Vulcans and their damned logic. Saatynn thought as he looked at himself in the mirror in his quarters. His father had once again sent him a message that there were openings at the P’Jem monastery for new Kolinahr initiates. He didn’t hate logic like everyone seemed to think, he just sought to use it as a secondary method of thinking, not his primary.

He was just happy to be on a Starship for the first time since his cadet cruise. And all that was, was a trip to Vulcan and back. Uneventful outside of an encounter with a Ferengi. He had heard of the Ark Angel’s exploits as far away as Earth Spacedock, and had always envied them, and now he was here, and despite his nerves, he was excited. He had little ability to use his Xenoanthropology degree until this point, and now he was out here, with alien cultures all around him.

Clearing his throat, he tugged on the hem of his uniform, before stepping out into the corridor and heading for the lift. As he got in, he quickly referenced the map of the ship he’d studied on the trip here. “Deck 12.” He said, leaning against the back wall, as the lift moved smoothly through the ship. His mind was back on Vulcan with his mate Linna. On his next leave period they were going to do the Koon-ut ceremony and make it official, and he couldn’t help but wonder if it was logic or something else that kept her bonded to him.

As the lift opened, the chatter of the ship pulled him out of his thoughts and he exited the lift, heading down the corridor to Sickbay 1. He looked around, trying to grab the attention of someone from the medical department for his check in.

LtJg Saatynn