PART 1 --Forged by the fires that burned...

Posted on Sat May 18, 2019 @ 8:51am by

1,308 words; about a 7 minute read

The transport ship was comfortable. The Tereketh people that were piloting her to her ship were a warmth needing race. Much like Vulcans they preferred the hot temperatures to the coldness of the starbases and Starfleet ships. It was a rare pleasure that she was able to walk around in her sleeveless Starfleet tank top. She’d taken to her quarters since they’d left the starbase feeling very lost in her thoughts. She had much on her mind and in between meditations she’d been studying the people that would be her crewmates.

It was the night part of their journey, although, there wasn't really day and night in space but her body told her rest was soon to come. She decided to have a drink before she tried to sleep. She replicated herself a peppermint tea, a favourite of hers, and sat down at the provided desk with her bound leather journal and a pen in hand. She preferred to write her logs. When the journal was filled it was scanned into a data PADD with her words and sketches and then the journal itself was destroyed while the PADD was secured.

She knew that most of her CO’s had preferred her to use recorded logs and she did for work but personal logs were her own and she’d be damned if she followed their orders. Writing was a dying art and it had always helped her center herself.

Sighing she looked out the window at the stars as they streaked by the ship. The colours had always fascinated her. She sipped her tea and her mind wandered to two months ago when she’d been back to Vulcan…

Two Months Ago: Vulcan, Forge Region

T’Mira stood at the summit of Mount Seleya right at a spot known as Surak’s Peak. A holy place to Vulcans that few were allowed to see. She had a connection or two within Vulcan intelligence that had helped. She had spent the last few days of her two weeks on Vulcan at the T’Karath Sanctuary which was nothing more than a graveyard to the past.

It had been filled with relics of old but also with spirits of the dead much like the arid land under her now. Mount Seleya, you see, looked over the Plain of Blood an old battlefield before the era of enlightenment when Vulcans were still savage. Some Vulcans still swore they saw the red sand dotted with green when the sun was setting, the blood of Vulcans of the past. There was a legend that Surak had walked the stretch of land while it was soaked with rivers of blood from both the reformers and those that clung to the past savage ways. While on opposite sides during life they all bonded and blended together in death.

She shook herself out of her mood and traveled a ways down the mountain to the T’Klass Pillar. The Pillar was said to be a weapon that Shariel, a Vulcan god of death, had used to fight for and preserve Sha Ka Ree. Touching the pillar was said to give clarity and her mind needed that. She’d been granted two weeks leave and then she’d be back on her ship heading to Starbase 451 where she would await a transport to take her to her new ship, her new home.

T’Mira placed a hand on the pillar and closed her eyes. Silence was the only thing that greeted her. She’d meditated, and drank enough Vulcan Spice tea to grow weeds out of her head and nothing. The feeling of impending doom still clung to her.

Frustrated beyond belief she headed to the tourist gift shop and purchased a small T’Klass Pillar and an image of Mount Seleya and the Forge region. It was a place that felt like home to her. In fact she’d felt as if she was Forged by the fires that burned at the heart of the region. It was as if her soul had always been there. Something about the land here drew her. Even though she was born in the Lake Yuron region this place, the Forge, was her soul’s home.

She decided that she would give the real T’Klass Pillar one more try. Hiking back up with her sleeping bag in hand she would spend the night by the pillar. It was crazy to spend the night there in the open, especially with Vulcan’s rich and dangerous wildlife but she was desperate for peace.

By the time she got back to the pillar the tourists and Guardians had gone for the night. She slipped through the gate picking the lock with ease and thanking the Vulcan Guardians for using such outdated technology. She set up her sleeping bag at the foot of the pillar. “Alright! Clear my mind if you can,” she challenged the pillar. After eating a sandwich she’d bought on the way back up and drinking some water she settled in for the night. Deciding, just for kicks, to touch the pillar again she extended her hand to the smooth stone. The stone was warm to her touch where as it had been cold the last time she’d touched it. She sighed and was just about to pull away when a bright spot above her hand seemed to expand. She gasped as a hand reached out and pulled her hard towards the pillar. She let out a surprised cry as she seemed to be pulled through the rock itself.

A brightness surrounded her disorientated her then slowly the strength of the light transformed into a soft glow. Once her vision cleared and settled she looked around. The walls around her were made of a rare kind of sandstone that was found in the Kir Region of Vulcan. She looked around at the torches that dotted the walls. What had just happened?

It was not logical. She was in her sleeping bag, she touched the stone, the light, the arm…it pulled her through the stone. She shook her head. Was she still asleep? She pinched her arm hard the pain telling her she was fully awake. “What happened?” She hadn’t realized that she’d spoken out loud until a voice responded.

“The challenge was issued and accepted.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Challenge?” Then it came back to her. She’d said, Alright! Clear my mind if you can. “Ah I see. Where am I?” She asked as she walked towards where the voice had spoken. She had to admire the workmanship of this place. With all the facts she wondered if, as logic would have it, she was inside the pillar or still on the outside mad from having been bitten by some form of poisoned creature. The hallway seemed to go on forever until she finally came face to face with a heavy door that was intricately carved. She looked at it. Was the voice behind this door? She hesitated but only a moment. She pushed the door open and stepped through…”


Present time...

Brought back to the present by an incessant clanking sound she turned to the door. It appeared she would have a visitor. Sighing she closed her log book and replaced it in the locked box that would keep it safe. She picked up her tea and took another sip. She had asked not to be disturbed and wondered why her wishes were not respected. Sighing she walked towards the door. This was going to be a long trip if these people insisted on being social. She preferred solitude to the social scene.


Lieutenant T’Mira
Chief Intelligence Officer
USS Victory

 

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