Log Entry: 031124

[T'Aniz Jozef 0]

Computer, end program," and with those words the desert rocks, sand, and blazing red sun disintegrated into the square grid plane of the holodeck. T'Aniz threw the towel along her neck, and exited from her workout. As she walked towards the turbolift, she kept folding and unfolding her hands. They ached from the weight of the lirpa. The TL arrivied and she stepped in, ordering, "Deck 7, Crew Quarters."

 

It's not that she wanted to learn all the alien weapons in the galaxy. But there were plenty of programs to study if she started that quest. She wanted to know the weapons of her ancestors. And the lirpa was distinguished as the fighting weapon if a Vulcan bride to be chose "The Challenge." Clumsey old thing, she thought, still, highly lethal. For a contest, a most logical weapon that tests both skill and stamina. She'd practice with it for the rest of the month. It did give her a sense of being Vulcan to swing that lethal cutting edge. The same one her forebears used to battle for brides in the thin Vulcan atmosphere, under the red hot Vulcan son.

 

Now, the nerve pinch...if only I could learn that !! Then again, I'm HalfVulcan, and not all HalfVulcans have inherited the ability, she thought.

 

Suddenly she remembered, and said aloud, "Turbolift, change direction. Go to Cargo Bay Two."

 

"Changing direction for cargo bay two." the lifeless voice intoned.

 

The turtle! It should be there! It was really great of Lt. Seiben, the assistant helmsman, to get the transaction arranged. It didn't cost half as much as she'd expected either. She'd already paid him by computer, and had a small sum left of her savings. Of course, she'd chosen a simple turtle, no fancy breed, just a common one. But that was all she needed. The Surak Society of Vulcan Philosophical Studies recommended that all new members obtain either a turtle, a sea anenome, or a Venus Fly Trap plant. Each choice provided metaphorical lessons to meditate upon. She preferred something with legs...so turtle it was.

 

The Turbolift doors opened, and she hurried to the Cargo Bay. Once there, she asked a young woman, "Crewman, were's the area for personal shipments?" The crewman pointed to a smaller room. T'Aniz hurried in that direction, aware that this was going to change the nature of her life on ship. An exciting moment! Ah...no...not exciting...that's not logical...a moment of significance...there we go...that's logical. Significance.

 

The crate was marked with her name, and had been beamed in just an hour ago. She took out her ultra-Swiss-utility set, ordered "knife," and with the utility blade undid the small crate's ropes. And she opened it. And gasped.

 

Inside, a small, green turtle stuck its head up in a wondering look, then quickly pulled its head, tail, and all four limbs into its shell. And it just sat there, looking for all the world like a green rock. She laughed. It was so darling. A laughing Vulcan? her thoughts chided her, but she ignored that voice. This is a smart little being! she thought. It knows I'm too big to resist...so it's going to try to fool me...Okay turtle...you and I are going to get along. I think you have sometings you can teach me.

 

Gently, she picked up the turtle to examine it. Somehow, she had the feeling it was terrified at being handled. So she replaced it in the crate and put the lid back on. Carrying the small crate, she walked straight to the turbolift. Her "Beta Shift" counterpart from the security division also stood at the lift, waiting. "Ensign Molotov," she nodded her head in recognition. The ensign is probably doing her rounds now, she thought.

 

"Ensign Jozef," the young security officer replied in return, eyeing the crate.

 

I'd better explain to her, T'Aniz realized. "It's my special shipment, that pet the Commander okayed. A small common turtle," she said with formal Vulcan detachment.

 

The ensign studied her. Then finally replied, "A turtle? As a pet?" T'Aniz heard the incredulity in the ensign's voice. She probably thinks it's some kind of weird Vulcan practice. ...And she's probably right. T'Aniz decided to try another tactic. After all, her culture was Terran. She was raised on Earth by Human foster parents.

 

"Yes. It's small, but intelligent. And won't make demands to interfer with our busy schedule. They're keeping us ensigns busy aren't they?" she said with a smile.

 

The ensign relaxed too. Human friendliness is definately more socially acceptable than Vulcan formality T'Aniz reflected. Then the ensign turned and asked, "Intelligent. How can a turtle be...intelligent?"

 

"It's shown me reactions beyond fight or flight," T'Aniz replied, paraphraseing her Philosophy of Surak text PADD. "It uses passiveness as strength and withdrawal as a tactic. Its nonviolence is part of its survival skills. It has already made me question my own impulses to fight, no matter what the odds. " The turbolift arrived and Ensign Jozef and Ensign Molotov entered.

 

"Deck seven, quarters," Ensign Molotov ordered the TL. Then she smiled back at T'Aniz. "Well, if it's making you question your self," she said, "why don't you name it Socrates? That is...if you haven't already named it." A twinkle lit the ensign's eyes.

 

T'Aniz nearly laughed out loud. "That's exactly what I'll do, Ensign. Socrates he is! Socrates the turtle," she responded. And the turbolift continued its way to Deck Seven.