And at once, she was no longer a woman sitting on the deck of a starship hurtling at sub-warp speed in orbit about an unknown planet, but a girl, kneeling in the hot red sand of a Vulcan garden.
Before her, a desert succulent, a large kal’ta plant, lay uprooted and limp beneath the relentless sun, its deep violet leaves, edged with iridescent blue, partially eaten away. The plant had grown for years in the garden, well before T’Pol’s birth; vast and venerable, it had been her father’s favorite, grown from a cutting handed down in the family for unbroken generations.
Now it lay destroyed; and as young T’Pol studied the damage, aghast (yet even at the age of five [30] years being trained enough to control the outward expression of what she felt), she heard her mothers calm voice addressing her father just inside the house.
“A ch’kariya, no doubt. I will purchase a trap for it, and contact your father for another cutting from his kal’ta.”
A ch’kariya: a burrowing mammal that relied on the roots of plants for water and nourishment. T’Pol had never seen one, and when she heard her mother’s word, an idea struck the young scientist: she would construct a trap herself, immediately, from materials already in the family home, and capture the creature for observation. This would do two positive things: please her parents, and further her knowledge of Vulcan zoology.
T’Pol immediately constructed a simple trap, no more than a transparent box with one side that was rigged to slide closed when the animal entered. As bait, she left a small portion of the kal’ta plant with its roots attached.
By sunset, her plan bore fruit: inside the box she found a long, slender quadruped, pale-skinned with sparse hair, so small she could hold it in her hands. Its tiny eyes were squinted shut, blinded even by the waning light of dusk.
She said nothing to her parents, but carried it to her room in secrecy. That night, for many hours, she observed the creature, who, once it [31] decided it was in no imminent danger, wolfed down the bit of plant and root. After a time, it grew sluggish, and apparently went to sleep; pleased that she had gained quite a bit of independent information, T’Pol did the same.
When she woke the following morning, the animal was motionless and would not be roused, despite her prodding. Alarmed, she took it at once to her parents, who were seated on the stone meditation bench in the garden. At the sound of her faster-than-normal steps, they both opened their eyes and gazed serenely at her, and at the boxed creature in her hands.
Her mother, jet-haired and black-eyed, waited calmly for her daughter to speak. She had the darker coloration typical of most Vulcans, which T’Pol envied and secretly thought was more beautiful; the girl had inherited her father’s lighter eyes, skin, and hair.
“I trapped the ch’kariya,” T’Pol said, fighting to keep the childish anxiety from her voice. “I studied it last night and meant to free it in the desert today. But there’s something wrong with it.”
Her father took the box from her, opened it, and reached in to touch the creature. After a second of examination, he confirmed T’Pol’s suspicion. “It is dead.”
T’Pol bowed her head in utter shame and dismay. Had she been any younger, any less trained in emotional control, she would have wept. She [32] had committed the most heinous crime possible in Vulcan culture: she had killed needlessly.
“I suspect it starved to death,” her father continued, his pale eyes bearing a hint of reproach. “Ch’kariyas require a great deal of sustenance because of their high metabolic rate. Did you supply it with a large amount of vegetation?”
Miserable, T’Pol shook her head.
“We are Vulcans,” her mother said softly. “We are the most intelligent species on this planet, and thus far, more intelligent than any other species we have encountered in space. Physically, we are stronger than most other creatures we have encountered; given the combination, we have an extremely great potential to cause harm.
“Thus, we also have the greatest responsibility to utilize our intelligence and to control our impulses.
“You see how easy it is to accidentally harm, even to kill. This is why we study the teachings of Surak, that we might avoid our natural impulse to wreak violence. We struggle daily, we meditate, we utilize our intelligence to its maximum, all in order to master that impulse.
“Now you must learn how to take great care in your every action to avoid causing harm. Intelligence is worthless if it is not backed by compassion.”
“I will never forget what my carelessness has caused,” young T’Pol said, lifting her chin to at [33] last directly meet her mother’s steady gaze. “I promise you that I will never again cause the death of any creature.”
Her father spoke at last. “Over the course of your life, you may find, daughter, that yours is not such an easy promise to keep.”
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