Picture the scene: A group of Vulcan ensigns sit in a circle, cross legged on the cafeteria floor of a Starfleet ship newly departed on its five year mission. Holding a lyre is the elder of the group, a long-haired youth with a knowing twinkle in his eye. Beside him, a Vulcan girl of a slightly younger age, her hair twisted into an ornate plat which curls around her head like an elegant serpent. Together, they sing this ballad, passing the melody between them, sharing pointed glances at their enraptured audience. Human engineers, medics, and other assorted helmsmen stride past, surveying this gaggle of Vulcans with curiosity.
“This beautiful ballad…” they ponder, “must be full of important Vulcan history, the likes of which humanity may never understand.”
The Vulcans smirk at the looks of reverence on their crewmates’ faces.
For they are, in fact, telling the story of how their ancestor boned the first ever human that the Vulcan race had ever had contact with.
He’d boned the human almost instantly, after a single shake of his hand.
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