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At the Coffee Break Café, by Linda
At the Coffee Break Café
Disclaimer: Paramount owns the great-grandparents of these characters. Their descendants own themselves but think they also own me. (Sigh), perhaps they do.
It is 2384. Katrina Soval, age 19, is a freshman at a small business college in San Francisco and has a crush on her Ferengi accounting teacher. She is an ordinary girl who has a very famous great-grandfather. At a student hangout near campus she is sitting at a table with fellow students. The table is crowded with PADDs and coffee cups. A lonely Vulcan Starfleet Academy cadet tries to join their group.
Would anyone like to write a second chapter for this story? I don’t know if it is going anywhere, it was just a small fun piece to write.
Sanuk had only been on Earth for two weeks. He finally got an afternoon to himself so he decided to explore the city. He had wandered off campus into what he had been told was a student hangout. By their relaxed behavior he was sure none of these young people were fellow Academy cadets. They looked vary undisciplined. And their clothing was odd. There was a Vulcan girl among a group who appeared to be studying at a corner table. He needed help socializing, so he approached her.
“Hello, my name is Sanuk.” Sanuk raised his hand in the formal greeting. The girl looked up with surprise, than amusement. A human look. The others ignored him and kept on working. How rude, he thought. How Human.
“Hello.” The Vulcan girl Katrina responded. “Are you lost or something? Any cab driver will know enough Vulcan to get you back to Sausalito.”
“But I do not want to go to Sausalito.” Sanuk stated in confusion. “I know my way back to the Academy. I just wanted to meet a fellow Vulcan student who, like me, is stuck here on this world for the next few years. I am….lonely.”
To Sanuk’s chagrin, the Vulcan girl elbowed the Human sitting next to her who was raising a cup of brown liquid to her mouth. The liquid splashed over the edge of the cup and the Human scowled at her friend. Katrina whispered: “Get a load of this, Cindy, I am being accosted by another ethnic Vulcan.”
“I am an ethnic Vulcan? What is that?” asked Sanuk.
Katrina sighed. “A Vulcan from Vulcan. I am a Terran-Vulcan, third generation. I live here. Have lived here all my life, as has my father and grandfather. I don’t speak Vulcan and have no desire to learn it. My father knows a few phrases, which his parents used with him, but my parents never spoke any Vulcan with us. Nor does my family practice any of the Vulcan traditions accept what is absolutely necessary due to Vulcan physiology. That means, I am not pre-bonded and I don’t meditate every day - more like once a week, and I touch my friends whenever I like. In public. My name is Katrina Soval. Hello. Now get lost if you don’t need directions or something. Bye.” And she turned her back to him.
He was more puzzled that offended. “Why do you wish me to get lost if you thought I was lost and you gave advise on taking a cab? Sanuk frowned slightly. ”I am not …. pre-bonded either. My family does not believe in that. They are very liberal, modern. And I am multi-generation too. Third generation Starfleet. My family is very proud of that. Sorry to have offended you. Bye too.” Sanuk said this to the girl’s back, then turned to walk away.
“Hey, don’t leave so fast,” chirped Cindy. “You are kind of cute, for a Vulcan.”
“Oh please! Said Katrina rolling her eyes. “Don’t encourage him!”
Cindy flicked an annoyed look toward Katrina and turned to Sanuk. “I have always been curious about Vulcans. Here.” And she leaned backward and scraped a chair over from an empty table. “Sit. Would you like some coffee?”
Sanuk sat. “Do they have Vulcan tea here?”
“Of course. Hey, coffee boy” she hailed a passing waiter. “One Vulcan tea.”
“So, you are an Academy cadet,” began Cindy, “I’ve heard that Vulcans live a long time. But being in Starfleet, that must cut your life expectancy about in half.”
“It cuts it down to 78.5 percent of my normal life span. But it is a noble calling and my parents are both still alive. And my grandfather lived to retire from Starfleet. How long do accountants live?”
This got a chuckle but no definitive answer. Sanuk was curious about Katrina. “You use a Vulcan male first name as your surname. A famous Vulcan’s name. Why is that? Have you ever visited relatives on Vulcan? I assume you have some.”
Katrina sighed, resigning herself to further explanation. “My great-grandmother was human. Her name was Amanda Cole and she married Ambassador Soval. Then my half Vulcan grandfather Robert-Sovil, married a Vulcan engineering student at Cal Tech named NiPau when he was over one hundred years old. My grandmother’s parents were from Vulcan and had taken Terran citizenship after living on Earth for forty years studying ocean currents. They had a son, my father, Soval-Edward , who decided for convenience to Terranize his name, making Soval his last name after a grandfather he idolized. He married Jane, my Mom, in his nineties. Mom’s parents were long time Terran residents who never returned to Vulcan even though they never took Terran citizenship. The people in my family marry late, I guess. Gives them time to ‘fool around’ some before settling down, if you get my meaning. Mom and Dad only visited relatives on Vulcan once. They had little in common culturally by then. They did not hit it off too well, so they have not been back. I have never been to Vulcan. After their experience, what’s the point?
“To see Mount Selaya and acquire one of those hideous plastic models of it?” inquired Sanuk. “I hear they are supplied by Ferengi commercial interests.”
“So you do have a sense of humor,” Katrina retorted, warming a little to this annoyingly persistent male.
“I am a modern Vulcan,” said Sanuk with un-Vulcan seeming pride.
“You don’t say!” Katrina moved closer, intent on practicing what Cindy had labeled ‘Vulcan baiting’. She pushed the loose sleeves of her sweater away from her hands and planted her elbows on the table, then cupped her chin on her hands.
Sanuk noted the loose sweater. Katrina noticed him noticing. “Don’t you approve of my clothes? It’s kind of our uniform at business school. Shabby chic. Probably more comfortable than what you have to wear at the Academy. So, are you slumming it preppy?”
Sanuk sensed she was issuing a challenge but he did not understand the terms she was using. He decided to ask questions instead. “Why do you wear a garment with a hole in it? It looks new. It is a shame it is already ruined.”
Katrina rolled her eyes again and raised an eyebrow. “We put holes in our clothes to be in style. You wouldn’t understand style now would you? You just wear what they tell you to. And think what they tell you to. You cadets are boring.” Katrina smirked and made as if she was picking a piece of lint off Sanuk’s sleeve.
Sanuk pulled his sleeve away. “You purchase an expensive new sweater and you put holes in it? That hole appears to be enlarging itself.”
A Human boy with long unkempt hair glanced up from his PADD. “Yes Katrina, let that hole continue to enlarge itself in the direction it is heading. I’ll bet even preppy may enjoy that as much as I am, anticipating what it will ultimately uncover.”
Katrina leaned forward and glared. “Well Tommy boy that will probably be the only thrill of your college days, hah?”
“I don’t understand this exchange,” Sanuk admitted.
“Sexual innuendo, my man. A common Human activity,” Tommy explained, thinking this conversation might now be more interesting than studying debits and credits.
“Oh. I am not well trained in that,” Sanuk remarked, looking a bit thoughtful.
Katrina mumbled while sorting through her study materials. “It doesn’t need training. Either you have it or you don’t.”
“And you think I don’t,” said Sanuk softly. “That well may be, but that doesn’t mean I don’t have sexual feelings.”
Tommy was intrigued. “Well that is quite an admission for a Vulcan!” He leaned toward Sanuk conspiratorially. “But we are all very concerned about Katrina. She has the hots for our managerial accounting professor.”
“Ok shut up Tommy you bastard!” Katrina was on her feet, but plunked back down in her chair, arms crossed defensively.
Cindy joined the ribbing. “And a Ferengi at that. We really ARE concerned dear.”
The bait-er had become the bait-ee. Katrina’s face was turning a deeper olive. “Cindy, Tommy, have you ever seen a Vulcan loose her temper? Keep pushing. Just keep it up!”
Sanuk was trying to stay in the conversation. “You are speculating on sex with a Ferengi? Katrina, once you take off your clothes for him, you would have to keep them off. Ferengi males require that of their females. I think that would be the logical conclusion to this speculation. And since you are fond of shabby chic, it would not be in your best interests to seduce your professor.”
Tommy roared with laughter that started to attract the attention of people at other tables. “Good one Sanuk! Not many people get the best of our Katrina.”
Sanuk was confused. “That was humorous? It was meant to be a serious statement. You said you were concerned about her.”
Katrina was showing signs of extreme discomfort. “I’m outa here. If you guys aren’t gonna be serious about studying, I will do it alone.” She threw a PADD in her shoulder bag and kicked back her chair. “NICE to have met you Sanuk. I hope we DON’T meet again.”
Sanuk watched her storm out of the café. He was sure this had all gone badly but didn’t know why. He would ask his Human roommate at the Academy and maybe the first year student advisor, a Kataran who had worked with Humans for years. He so wanted to ‘fit in’. This was going to take time.
A hand of people have made comments
Do continue. I think it's worth it. A little of a stretch to see Corprole Cole mating Soval though.
Yes a stretch, but it was not my original idea. See the stories ShouldKnowBetter has written. She makes it seem oh so logical! I just continued in her footsteps. Katrina and Sanuk might have a future though they have a long way to go to understand each other!
oh my god
such 80s slang
80's? Well that possibly dates me! But all these trends cycle back and kids will always have their own subculture. One thing I have discovered: to a teenager a parent is not cool, they want you to walk ahead of them or behind them so no one will know they are actually with you. But when you become the grandparent of a teenager, you can be cool again.