[[BACKPOST]]: The Summoning

Posted on 17 Oct 2012 @ 8:58pm by
Edited on 08 Feb 2013 @ 12:25am

1,448 words; about a 7 minute read

MOUSE OVER Vulcan text for translations!

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[[2385: MIRI'KAHR COUNCIL, VULCAN]]

The chambers were large, immense in their elegance and trapped the dry arid heat of the desert within them. Dark, warm tones were juxtaposed by the gleaming silver of ceremonial weaponry. Tapestries of old hung against the stone walls, giving the establishment an even further archaic look.

In the center there were many benches arranged with one isle in the middle. It looked like an ancient Gothic church, a prominent castle. At the top, near a podium, a tall dark-haired Vulcan bowed from the waist before straightening and clasping his hands behind his back calmly. His gaze was steady and features carefully clear, but his eyes were glittering with some kind of fierceness. "Maat tela'at. I am honored to attend thee." The traditional words were well spoken, and his voice was strong and resonated through the high ceiling.

T'Maile's features were sharp and unforgiving. She stood from her chair and stared down the boy. T'Maile had long moved past idle pleasantries. Yet, she mused quietly to herself, she could see her son in the boy. Sharivok had always been unruly, eventually culminating the declaration of vre'krasht and subsequent embrace of V'tosh ka'tur. The Clan passions were too unstable within him. He was always a danger. Killing T'Rii had been the last straw.

It was fortunate this boy had enough sense to reign in his controls. She saw him now, far removed from the child at the base of the Miri'kahr mountains, quivering to hold on to life. Now, he had grabbed it by its horns, as the humans would say. T'Maile pursed her lips.

She'd heard about his application to Starfleet. A few Vulcans each year did so, but most of them had training in the Disciplines since they were young. She was not so sure about this one. To her right, Junior Ambassador Liyar sat stiffly, decked out in the luxurious and rich fabric bearing his Clan insignia. Since the boy's arrival to Miri'kahr, Sekhet had been raised in the Severen household. Even as the man disowned any ties with his brother, they could not deny the child a chance at Life. Liyar had watched him grow, and gave him his first instruction in suus mahn. He had to admit privately it was gratifying to see him here, his pudvel-tor sa-kai.

Even if it was a convening of necessity, one that many of the Niram Clan in audience did not wish to see passed. Sekhet was always a forceful presence. T'Maile's influence was far reaching. She had accepted this d'Vel'nahr into their midst, in spite of protests. She could only hope he had lived up to his title. "Hakausu Sekhet." It wouldn't do to deny him his title, after all. No collective gasp went through any Vulcan council chamber, but dozens of black eyes leveled themselves sharply at the Healer who stood before them. "Your attendance is noted."

Still he stood. Waiting it out, waiting for his turn. Let them stare, he seemed to say. Fearless, confident. Yes, she could see Sharivok. It was a little unnerving, but there were other things she could see as well. The Fury, the Chorus - things that lie within all at this chamber. Yet, he had forced them to yield where Sharivok had openly, flagrantly dismissed any attempts to.

She could not yet tell. "Hakausu Sekhet. You have applied to Star Fleet. You are shirking your responsibility to this Clan, who took you in. How do you call yourself d'Vel'nahr?"

Sekhet squared his shoulders, and kept his head up. "I do not seek to shirk my responsibility, Maat tela'at. I am d'Vel'nahr. Life without experience stagnates. I cannot offer to this Clan without i'ki-ha'kiv'veshtau. There would be nothing to offer. 'Shiyau thol'es k'thorai ri k'ahm.'." The Surak quote hung in the air.

"And what is it you shall do at Star Fleet?"

"I desire to be a counselor. I will help others learn to reach their own peace."

"Desire? Do you not know your role, Whl'q'n?" T'Maile's reproach was stinging.

"Affirmative, Maat tela'at." He would not be cowed. "It is my understanding that a'rie'mnu comes from Mastery, not from Denial. It is in the name." There was fire in his black eyes, his words dry enough to spark it, even his emotions were subdued.

T'Maile sat back, and arched an eyebrow. Interesting. This one was either very brave, or very foolish indeed to face off with her. "Do not be impertinent, cha'kam."

"I beg forgiveness, Maat tela'at." He knelt, but continued staring straight up.

"I see the child has the spirit of the father. But not the tri-fnu-ven." There was a note of final judgment in the statement. "Stand, Hakausu Sekhet cha'Severen ma'at'Niram."

He stood.

"Do you promise your service to this Clan? Your honor? Your katra?"

"I do, Maat tela'at."

"Should Star Fleet conflict with the interest of this Clan, do you pledge your loyalty thus?"

"To join Starfleet, you take an oath of allegiance, Maat tela'at. I would not join if I were not permitted to fulfill this oath. If this Clan cannot accept that, then I shall not join."

Sekhet tipped his head up again and met her eyes. She nodded.

"Very well, Hakausu. I see you have not been diminished in the face of Trial. Let me be plain, Sekhetkam." The others in the room now visibly looked at her, as she addressed him informally. "Star Fleet requires a great deal of discipline. Should you fail, many would be in danger."

"I will not fail, Maat tela'at."

"Star Fleet employs the use of force. As Vulcans, we are taught that force is unnecessary and aberrant. Why do you seek to join an organization as this?"

"Total pacifism is illogical, Maat tela'at." Sekhet's statement was said just as any other, but so blunt in its application that the eyes staring at him widened. "Vah mau vah tor-yehat ri stau. But only, as far as possible. Starfleet does not promote violence unless it is necessary, much as us. A race of entirely pacifistic beings fails to account for the variable of violence upon their person. They would be annihilated. There is a reason we still practice the Old."

She beckoned him forth. "Share your thoughts with me, Hakausu." It was an order, not a request.

She placed her hands on his psi-points, carding through his mind silently, before she broke off and nodded at him. "Very well, Hakausu. I see you have sufficient mastery. The honor is mine." She held her hand in the ta'al, saturnine and dignified. "Live long and prosper, Son of Severen."

He returned the gesture and bowed once more. "Peace and long life, Maat tela'at."

OFF:

T'Maile
Sekhet
Liyar

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