#*nsn

Spock had lived his entire life as an outsider, existing on the fringe of Vulcan society in many ways despite his father’s illustrious diplomatic career and family name. His very existence made him a curiosity, which in itself was neither good nor bad—but even Vulcan children could be cruel, and the human DNA in Spock’s genetic code made him more emotionally vulnerable to that cruelty than any of his peers. He rejected his inherent humanity at every turn, embracing only his paternal heritage, and devoted a great deal of time and effort to becoming a perfect Vulcan man. He would prove the childhood bullies wrong. He would prove himself worthy to his father...though in quiet moments of reflection or meditation, he sometimes questioned how Sarek could have chosen to marry and father a child by a human woman, only to then be critical of every human trait that child displayed.

Beyond where he stood, the surf roared and crashed until it crept, whispering, onto the sand. Cold, frothy seafoam licked at Spock’s bare toes before slipping away again to resume its primordial dance, the steps dictated by cosmic forces millions of miles away. He was unsure exactly how long he had stood here, mesmerized as he gazed out on the blue-grey water gilded by the late-afternoon sun, but his face and feet were growing chilled. This was the third afternoon he’d come here. The experience of watching and listening to the Terran sea had a calming, almost meditative effect on his mind. He wondered if it also spoke to some latent humanity within him without really believing such a thing was possible.

His Vulcan features and behavior made Spock just as much of a curiosity here on Earth as he’d been on the planet of his birth. No one could tell that he was, in fact, half human. But now he was also something other than just an outsider. He was an outcast. Sarek had, upon learning of his son’s enrollment in Starfleet Academy, made it clear that he was no longer welcome in his house. While Spock’s imminent departure for Earth had robbed the words of their immediate impact, it couldn’t alter the rejection inherent within them. The many years he’d spent trying to fit in to his society and to please his father appeared to have been in vain.

Now, many light-years away from the burning Vulcan sun and with an alien sea filling his keen senses, Spock wondered idly whether he and his father would ever speak again. Perhaps if he did as well in his Academy courses as he always had in childhood…  

Frowning, Spock let that incomplete thought fade from his mind. He wasn’t here to make Sarek proud. He was here because he wanted to be. Rather than settle logically on a career path that he could follow, as was expected of him, to the Vulcan Science Academy, Spock’s sharp young mind had always hungered for ever-more knowledge on all subjects...and his eyes and imagination were forever drawn back to the stars that glittered overhead. The various interplanetary diplomatic trips on which he sometimes accompanied his parents had only furthered his conviction. Someday, he would live and work out there among those distant points of light.

From some distance down the beach Spock heard the cheerful clamor of people gathering. The sun hadn’t yet set, but they had already built a bonfire on the sand. Some part of him—the human part, he supposed, still reeling from the events of the last two weeks—yearned to walk down and join them. But whether they were fellow Starfleet cadets or not, he doubted his presence would be welcome, nor would he have any idea how to conduct himself. Classes began in a few days. He would bury any loneliness and homesickness he felt in his studies and focus on his goals.

He turned away from the sun-drenched waves and began walking towards the rocks where he’d deposited his shoes and cloak. Perhaps tonight he would try to find a restaurant that offered more appealing dishes than the Academy’s food synthesizers.