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Personal Log, Stardate 40990.06

Posted on 04 Sep 2020 @ 1:16pm by Lieutenant T'Char Le'el

The Vulcan staggers into her room, slapping the lights on haphazardly. Her normally pristine uniform jacket is wrinkly and patched with small stains, which give off a somewhat fruity, caramel aroma. She blinks a few times to clear her vision, and begins to move into her quarters.

Her shin hits a crate on the ground she missed while blearily scanning the room upon entry. Despite having plenty of time to react, stop moving, and step away, the highly concentrated sucrose in her bloodstream prevents her brain from reacting in a logical manner. She manages to look down at the box, but that’s about all she can do as her body suddenly loses balance from overextending and she tumbles to the floor headfirst.

After a few short lines of cursing and expression of emotional discontentment, T’Char sits up and stares at the dura-plastic container sitting in front of her. There’s Vulcan script on the front with her name on it, and what appears to be a paper envelope in a sleeve astride the top.

The Vulcan pulls it out with some effort in order to tear the envelope open and read it:

Greetings T’Char! It is H’esti!

T’Char rolls her eyes and leans back onto the floor, exhaling violently. The letter from her sister is six pages long.


“Rai! Tra-wan, ne’!” T’Char beckons to something behind her as she sits at her desk. A low rumbling noise is heard, followed by a sharp yowl from some kind of animal. The Vulcan frowns, putting her hands on her hips as she swivels to face where the noise emanates from.

“Rasahkos, ska' pasu!”

Another, sadder yowl answers her scolding and a fuzzy creature, somewhere between a grizzly bear, a tiger, and a puppy, leaps over her table and lands on T’Char’s cot. It takes up about half of the bed in size, and shakes its body with the energy of a toddler after drinking a soda.

T’Char turns to face her console. The rings under her eyes are so dark they’re almost purple.

“Personal log, Stardate 40990.06. After contacting my sister to inform her of my test results almost two months ago, she has taken it upon herself to bestow Pi’ Tra-wan, meaning ‘Little Cloud,’ into my custody. This was apparently the package she mentioned sending from Vulcan.”

The Vulcan turns to look behind her. Little Cloud yawns extravagantly, baring a full row of razorlike teeth, with two very prominent fangs at the front of her mouth flashing in the light. Her fur is a tan-brown, with a pattern of darker swirls and a thick mane surrounding the neck of the beast like a scarf. If it were capable, it would smile at T’Char in that moment.

“She is a Sehlat cub, an animal native to Vulcan. Often we are given one as children to learn about responsibility, and death.” T’Char swivels to face the console again, raising an eyebrow.

“They also function as companion animals, offering physical support in times of emotional unbalance. H’esti had claimed that it would help to alleviate my…”

The Vulcan is caught in her speech by a lump forming in her throat. The large furry animal jumps from the bed to the floor and brushes up against her leg, mewling in a soft tone. Her hand reaches down to stroke Little Clouds head fur, resulting in a noise like a combustion engine to emanate from the Sehlat.

“Emotional unbalance. This posting has not exactly offered much time for me to relax. I have much to meditate on, and-.”
T’Char catches her voice again as Kyr lays against a filthy metal wall in her memory, his face screwed up with restrained agony. Her hands are stained blue whenever she touches his chest, and the heat behind her from the passing phaser beams keep making her flinch. The Andorian looks into her eyes and expects that to be the last thing he ever sees. There’s something familiar about that look and it makes her more scared than she ever thought she could be. In fact, It’s very similar to how Alice looked at her when she turned back away from the plasma fire on deck twelve to cover T’Char.

Little Cloud stands on her hind legs to paw at the Vulcan, bringing her out of the sudden spiral. T’Char lifts the animal into her lap, where Little Cloud makes herself comfortable, still purring.

“Pi’ wan is, as much as I disagree with my sister on many things, a logical decision. In her choice of words however, she is incorrect. I am not lonely.”

The last word is spat out with distaste, curling the sides of her lip in disgust. It is enough conviction, she hopes, to convince herself.

“But the attention this animal requires will be a sufficient distraction from my complicated emotional state. My only concern is that my Cloud will drift to another’s quarters and devour any...other animals.”
A brief but terrible vision of Little Cloud happily licking black fur off her paws is enough to make the Vulcan grimace.

“I am… uncertain how Kyr will react. He has not expressed any desire to care for domesticated animals, but on the other hand he has not expressed discontentment at the prospect either.”

She grimaces slightly, and leans over to hug the Sehlat worriedly. Little Cloud obliviously enjoys the affection, and vocalizes to signify to her new mother that the Vulcan must continue to pay attention to her at all times.

“For the time being.. I believe it may be prudent to continue our.. daily visitations, in his quarters instead of mine. I would rather not take the chance of being constantly..interrupted by Tra-wan.” T’Char flushes green as the situation plays out in her head. Better not to risk it.

Little Cloud gazes up at her mother with her baby fangs already a solid three inches long. She yelps in a harsh tone, expressing her love and desire to hunt and kill for her large, pleasant smelling guardian.

T’Char is forced to soften her gaze as she looks down at the mass of fur, looking back into her eyes. Without thinking, she cracks a small smile, as any previous concerns she might’ve carried before dissipate quickly.

“I will prescribe a training regiment on the holodeck for her. She will need to be accustomed to life aboard a starship. End of log.”


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