I've kept you waiting for ages and I'm afraid I have very little to show for it. I worry this chapter will be such a disappointment to you all. I'm sorry : / More detailed notes at the end.
There is some uncomfortable stuff at the beginning of this chapter. Message me if you need details.
13.
Unrooting
23 April 2277
Dear Lady Selik,
I am Instructor L'rh Terys. We spoke briefly at the New Student Orientation for incoming Year 9 students. I do not usually attend this event, as I have little reason to be in contact with Year 9 students, but I saw you placed into my Astrophysics Colloquium this coming term and felt moved to seek you out—a decision I do not regret. You are the only fourteen-year old student to have placed out of the lower-level module and into my intermediate course. Commendable.
I appreciated your contributions to the discussion Instructor T'Meni and I had at the open house regarding gamma-ray bursts. I found myself at several moments doubting that you were fourteen. You carry yourself with such grace and maturity. You are intelligent beyond your years.
I will be at the opening of the New Vulcan Prehistoric Museum this end-of-week. You mentioned at the orientation that you would be attending, as well. Perhaps we could arrange to have midday meal in one of the nearby cafes together.
Peace and Long Life,
Terys
Post scriptum: I have heard others call you Rivanu, but I was under the impression your given name was Selik. Clarify.
Terys—you are certain it is acceptable that I refer to you thus? I am not accustomed to addressing instructors so casually. I find I am still unused to life at the Suark School for Ethical Citizenship. At my previous institution, L'Rul, mentors emphasized formality and decorum as sacred.
Regarding my name, you may refer to me as either Selik or Rivanu. Though Selik is my birth name, Rivanu is the name I have taken as a part of my monastery's order, given to me by Honoured Temple Mother T'Lin.
Finally, concerning your thoughtful praise, it is unwarranted, I assure you. I happen to know an inordinate amount about gamma-ray bursts because they are a frequent occurrence in comic books, the reading thereof one of my (many) illogical interests. Further, my samekh captains a fleet of space research vessels, and I have had frequent opportunity to learn about various space phenomena first hand.
As far as the opening of the Prehistoric Museum, I had intended to attend the event with my sister Amayel. We were unable to spend the fourteenth anniversary of our day of birth together and have arranged this outing as a replacement. My regrets that I cannot attend with you.
Peace and Long Life
Selik
Lady Selik,
Yes, Terys is acceptable.
The day following the museum opening, the cactus flowers in T'Yeta Canyon will be blooming. Would you be interested in attending with this-one? I know that it is not the type of event that many young people would find that engaging.
Terys
Terys,
I would be interested in attending, yes. My fascination with botany is long-held, rooted in a fictional character I used to enjoy. The pollens can sometimes upset my breathing, so my samekh has not typically allowed me to attend this event; however, I have always wanted to go. I have become much better at regulating my body since attending L'Rul, and I do not foresee any issues.
Selik
Lady Selik,
If you were to experience respiratory distress, I would take care of you. You should not be limited in what you do when this-one is willing to insure your well-being. I am surprised your samekh would put such restrictive constraints on you, especially given your interest in botany.
What is your comm or PADD number so I may reach you to arrange our meeting?
Terys
I am reluctant to admit that I do not have access to a comm or PADD at this moment as my parents have taken it away as a consequence for some of my actions.
I am sure you find that terribly childish.
No, Selik, not at all.
I will continue to message you electronically since you continue to have access to a computer.
I will contact you soon with details of our meeting.
Peace and Long Life.
Terys
#
Seven Years Previous
Sarek awaits his granddaughter in one of the smaller of the Central Estate libraries, his right leg crossed over the left as he reads communications from his honoured mother. Varum has left to retrieve Spock and Nyota from the family grounds and is expected to arrive back to the compound in 26 minutes and 19 seconds. Sarek is relieved to know that his son's Time passed without issue, as early and unexpected as it was.
"Samekh-al?" calls Selik. She waits in the arched entryway, dressed in a sky-blue gown, high-necked, long-sleeved, ankle length, tapered at her waist with a white cloth. Her hair is damp and pulled tightly into a knot that rests on the top of her forehead. With her hair thus, she looks very much like Nyota were Nyota to have more V'tosh features.
"Enter, kofu-al," says Sarek.
Her hands are folded behind her back as she walks to meet him at his chair. Sarek sets his PADD down.
"You requested my presence," she says, "but before you carry out your business, I wish to apologise for my behaviour two days ago regarding the matter of my dismissing myself before you were able to give me your present. I acted rashly and without thought to you or Amayel, and I will endeavour to be less selfish in the future."
Sarek gestures for Selik to take the seat next to him. "You have meditated upon this matter?"
"Yes. Extensively. 8.2 hours, Samekh-al."
Sarek does not doubt that that is the longest she has ever meditated on a single issue. She is of the age where deeper and more frequent meditations will be required in order for her to maintain adequate control.
"And what other conclusions did you draw after re-establishing your logic?"
"I made a decision," she says. Her hands sit neatly in her lap. She is a young girl clear of purpose. No sign of fidget or uncertainty in her movements. Perfectly poised.
"What decision is that, pi'veh?"
"I am leaving."
Sarek tamps down the tremor of shock at her statement and lets it pass, taking a slow breath.
"Elaborate."
She removes her PADD from the loose pocket of her gown. "I am going here." She shows him the screen. "L'Rul," says Selik. "I plan to spend the remainder of the day finishing my application for attendance."
L'Rul is a monastery nearly as old Surak, on a Vulcan colony at the edge of the quadrant. A small, red desert planet.
"How did you come to know of this place, child?" asks Sarek.
"Through research. I sought a method for relieving my emotional turmoil because it has been the direct cause of hurt to others. Is it not logical to find ways to mediate one's role in causing harm? I require more focused and frequent meditation. I require solitude and intensive training. Students who enter L'Rul at a young age frequently leave with the skills necessary to control their physiological functions completely," she says.
"You will learn those skills on your own naturally as you age. You are young. These matters need patience and time." Better control over one's physiology comes with practice, practice most V'tosh seven-year olds lack.
"I cannot be patient when the matter is my own health. Samekh-al, it is not a pleasant feeling to gulp for air and feel none come. Nor is it a pleasant feeling to know that one wrong move might mean my death," she says. His granddaughter is not being hyperbolic. Still, to hear it put in such terms is bracing.
"Then I will teach you. Your father will teach you. You great-grandmother will teach you," says Sarek. And if they could not teach her, there were other options. Experimental medicines and treatments.
"You and Samekh have obligations. At L'Rul, I would be with mentors and guardians whose only goal is my betterment. I will still keep up with my academic studies. Many students of that monastery have gone on to successful institutions of higher learning. I will also be able to maintain and further develop my skills in the martial arts, and to hone my telepathic skills so I might become a more accomplished fighter. I am committed to this path." She nods resolutely, her PADD clutched to her chest, her eyes sharp and focused on Sarek.
"I do believe you have given this much thought, but it is illogical to make such life-altering decisions without consulting adults who know more than you of these things," says Sarek.
"What else is there to know, Samekh-al?"
That it is no easy thing to leave one's family and live in exile on a forgotten, barely-civilized planet.
"I am not certain you are ready for the sacrifices it will require," he says, though he knows that once his granddaughter is set on something, there is rarely any changing her mind.
"I am ready. I am ready to prove to you all once and for all that I am strong. That I am good. You think I am thwarted because I will eat only broth and or sleep on the floor in a room with many others? I am not. I will give up every material comfort if it means I might live without this constant threat of death. I am brave. I am perseverant," she says. Yes, she is.
"No one doubts those truths." Sarek certainly doesn't.
"Perhaps not. Still, I aim to prove them to you in a manner that leaves no room for question."
Three incoming seven-year olds are admitted to T'Rul every year. Only three. And there is no doubt of what students who leave its walls are capable of. They are frequently recruited into Vulcan High Command's more clandestine branches. Secret police. Assassins. Powerful telepaths and enviable masters of the limits of their own body. Aggressively self-healing. Fearless.
It is not a place for a child as young, sensitive, and vulnerable as Selik. She requires her family. Not a team of strangers who will remove that spark that makes her special and replace it with…Sarek is not sure.
"When is your application due, Selik?"
"Tomorrow."
"What does it require?"
"Five Letters of Recommendation, a Statement of Intent, a submission of academic and medical records, a Statement of Commitment, an essay analysing a political or philosophical movement of my choice, and a 500-question test which is issued online, three interviews, and an eventual hearing to ascertain my character and mental fitness for the program."
"Have you spoken to your samekh and komekh of this?"
"No. I have only now decided to attend."
She speaks as if already accepted.
"Have you considered the possibility that they will not allow you to come?"
"I have. Should that pass, I will attend one of their less competitive programs. They are a large monastery and provide open doors for anyone who would wish to learn better self-control and live there in their company." Indeed, she has given this much thought—more thought than Sarek would've given her credit for. She is prone to a certain rashness, but this, she has clearly meditated on the decision for many hours.
"Will you be allowed to bring your comics there?" Sarek asks, recognizing his attempts to convince her to stay are growing more desperate.
"No. One brings nothing of their old life."
"And what of Storm?" he asks.
"I let her go. I acknowledge her for what she has been to me, an inspiration, and understand that further growth requires a new method. I am regretful for what I did to my collection, Samekh-al. Do you forgive me?"
"I do."
"Do you really?"
"There is nothing you could do that I would not forgive in short time," he says. It is true. His granddaughters wreak havoc on his logic.
"You do not deserve kin such as me. I am a foolish, illogical, emotional girl. Am I even V'tosh?"
"Do not speak of yourself in that way, my child," says Sarek.
"I do not want to struggle with my emotions so violently anymore," she says.
Sarek wishes to tell her that she will always struggle with her emotions violently. That most V'tosh do. He thinks of the way he still clings to illogical emotions, like his stubborn refusal to remarry despite his mother's gentle chiding to do so.
Selik stands and hands him her PADD again. "If you have time, will you read my statements and essays?"
"I will."
"Samekh-al?"
"Yes?"
"Are you experiencing emotional upset because of my plans?"
Sarek turns his head away then back toward his granddaughter. "I admire your logic as you have presented it but am worried you have not considered this matter thoroughly."
Selik takes a very slow, conscious breath. "I will take your thoughts under advisement," she says. "Are you ready to move on to your business?"
Sarek nods and stands, leading Selik to one of the study tables. "I wished to give you my gift. I find that in light of the news you have just told me it is even more apt now."
Selik pauses at the long, thin rectangle box. Wooden and carved with script.
"Open it," he says.
Selik finds the latches and undoes them, opens the top of the box so it rests back on its hinges. She is silent as she examines what is inside.
"It is the—"
"I know what it is, Samekh-al."
"May I?" she asks, reaching forward to touch the stone staff inside, forged in pre-Surak times when psionic weapons were still common place. If one knows how, she can control the staff to channel electrical energy in the body and from the body in order to shoot out ball lightning. Those who made it centuries and centuries ago belonged to an order called the Reshameslar, which survives today in only small numbers.
"Samekh-al, some graduates of L'Rul go on to join the Reshameslar," she says, and now Sarek regrets the timing of the gift even more, because he did not need to give her more reason to leave her home.
"I know. Though I hand over possession of this artefact to you, I trust that you understand you may not use it." Not without training.
"Of course," says Selik. "I am—I do not know what to say. This gift surpasses…I do not deserve this. I simply do not."
"My brave, fierce, tempestuous granddaughter, I can think of no one who deserves it more."
She blinks as she examines the staff. "I offer my sincere gratitude."
"It pleases me to show you your value in any way that I can."
He is thankful that his gift is not a disappointment. He believes Selik's belief that she inferior in some way to Amayel in the minds of her family has no logical basis, but he would not wish to give her further ammunition.
She is still examining the gift when Nyota and Spock return home. Sarek can feel their presence, and so can Selik.
"Samekh and Komekh have finally returned," says Selik, her eyes widening at the realization. "May I show the staff to them?"
"You may," says Sarek.
Selik clicks the latches of the carrying case in place, grabs the handle, and then runs off to meet her parents. Sarek is not far behind her. In the corridor, he sees Amayel, walking at a more dignified pace to greet her samekh and komekh. Her hands are clasped behind her back. Sarek taps her on the shoulder, and she turns to greet him.
"Samekh-al, it seems my parents have returned from their holiday, and I am going to go give them my welcome and well wishes," she signs.
"May I join thee?" signs Sarek.
"You need not ask that," she returns.
"Are you well, pi'kan?" asks Sarek.
Her mood is frequently more quiet than Selik's but she is even more restrained than usual. "I am well."
"You are certain?"
"I am certain," she signs.
Sarek pulls her to the side of the corridor, kneels. "Daughter of my son—what is it?" Sarek signs.
"It is nothing that meditation will not resolve," she says.
"Sometimes advice from an elder can be helpful, as well," signs Sarek. Amayel sighs, ever so quietly. So serious.
"Selik is leaving," Amayel signs. "She has not told me yet, but I know. And I know that you know. My komekh is leaving, too. Did you know that? No, I can feel through your mind that you didn't. Well, Honoured Mother T'Pau has decided it. I can see it like a very clear picture. She is sending Mama away. I do not know why, but she is. I am tired of keeping secrets. I am tired of being alone in—in everything, but mostly in my knowledge."
"My child, you are never alone," says Sarek.
Amayel blinks away a frustrated expression and bites her bottom lip. Her hand-signs grow more restrained and quiet as resignation appears to wash over her. "Everything is changing, Samekh-al."
"To fear change is not logical, as change is life, and to fear change would be to fear life," he says," Sarek signs. He generally tries to avoid empty adages, but sometimes, there is nothing else to say.
"Not all change is good, Grandfather."
"But your mother and father are home now. Is that not good?"
Finally, a trace of a smile. "Yes. It is good. I just do not know how long it will last. Let us go greet them."
Sarek is not satisfied that there is conversation is over but he will not consider the matter further until Amayel is ready to discuss what ails her more in depth. He has long worried about the strength of her telepathy—that, and other things. She has always seemed haunted by a perpetual loneliness. Overshadowed by a sister with often much more pressing needs. Doted on, surely, but was that enough? Is anything ever enough? Illogical, indulgent questions to be sure.
Amayel is already walking to meet her parents, several feet ahead of him, and he joins her. When he arrives, Selik is in her mother's arms when they arrive to the place of meeting in the West Hall. Spock is decidedly not paying attention to the way Selik's head rests easily on her mother's shoulder. Sarek wonders if he did not receive such an embrace. That relationship requires repair, but Sarek is not sure he is the one to offer advice on the front.
Sarek stands back as Amayel walks to greet her father with a nod. "I trust your holiday went well, Samekh?" she asks. "Mother said you were sick before she left. Have you quite recovered?"
Spock kneels to sign along with her, explaining to her that yes, he was unwell, but that he is better now and they will all be returning home soon.
Selik will not leave her mother's arms, head still rested upon her shoulder. Only three minutes ago she seemed calm and confident, but now the weight of what she is considering has clearly settled upon her and her emotions reveal themselves. Her countenance may be stoic but clinging hard to one's mother is a clear enough gesture.
"Sarek," Nyota says with a head nod, not letting go of Selik. She looks slightly embarrassed, and he supposes it is because the circumstances of Spock's Time made the whole affair more public than anyone would prefer such a thing.
"Do you know why this little one is being such a cuddle-butt?" asks Nyota, nuzzling her head into Selik's.
"I am unfamiliar with that terminology," Sarek says, "but I can infer its meaning by context."
The greetings do not last long. Soon, T'Pau calls them to midday meal.
She looks tired, and Sarek wonders how long it has been since his mother last slept. It is not unlike her to stay awake for several days in a row. These last few days have proved a test of everyone's limits. Amayel's abrupt departure from her summer program, Selik's running away, and Spock and Nyota's 'holiday.'
They dine in silence on vegetables stuffed with grains and a salad tossed in citrus juice.
Selik only picks at her food so Amayel steals her serving.
When the main course is concluded, conversation becomes appropriate again, and T'Pau begins to speak.
"Maresh has resigned from High Command and Nyota is to replace him as head of the Defence Network project. You will receive official word of this tomorrow," says T'Pau.
"Mm? Excuse me?"
"I said that Maresh has resigned from High Command and you are to replace him as head of the Defence Network project. You will receive official word of this tomorrow," T'Pau repeats. "Of course, you may deny the appointment, but to do so would not be logical."
Sarek takes a sip of water.
He watches his son, but Spock demonstrates no visible reaction to the news. His control is admirable.
"I am uncertain that I am the most qualified for the position," says Nyota.
"You are," says T'Pau. "In six days you will leave for Quasar-3 to examine their progress on improving security to their cross-quadrant subspace networking."
"That's a six week mission," says Nyota.
"Indeed," says T'Pau. "Maresh was slated to go, but you will attend in his place."
That is what Amayel must have been referring to earlier when she said T'Pau would be sending Nyota away. Not ideal given the turmoil in the family, but not as disastrous as what he'd imagined. T'Pau had long ago accepted Nyota, or tolerated her. With his mother, it is difficult to tell. Regardless, Sarek would not put T'Pau sending Nyota away for good beyond the realm of possibility; he is glad to know that in this instance that is not the case.
Amayel begins to sign, and everyone turns toward her. She is not generally one to speak up during discussions such as this. "Quasar-3. Is that not in a part of the quadrant prone to significant violence and warfare? It is not far from the Neutral Zone," she says.
Nyota pressed a napkin over her mouth. "Perhaps we should discuss this later," she signs, clearly disturbed that T'Pau chose now to broach this topic.
Spock crosses his hands on the table, lays his fork onto a cloth napkin. "I will not be away from she who is my wife at this moment," he says, tone sharp as if the final word on the matter. "I agree with Nyota. Let us speak on other matters."
Selik decides that now of all moments is the best for her to announce her application to L'Rul. Sarek feels it before she speaks it. He can see her gathering up her nerve as she fiddles with her eating utensils.
"Samekh?" Selik asks.
Spock seems shocked that she is addressing him directly.
"Yes, ko-fu?" he asks.
"I never properly apologised for running away, or for how I spoke to you before I left. I spoke harshly and without consideration for your perspective. I let my logic leave me. Was it I who caused you to be unwell these last few days? Amayel informed me that the efforts you took to restore my breathing challenged the limits of your body. I am sorry, Samekh. I did not mean for you to be unwell."
Nyota reaches a hand over and rubs it against Selik's back.
"You were not the cause of my illness," says Spock simply.
Nyota clears her throat, beckoning her a'dun to continue.
Spock looks at Nyota, apparently unsure what to add. After a few moments pause, he speaks again. "You are, without caveat, one of three people in this universe I cherish more than myself. There is nothing you could do that would change that. I am merely relieved you are unharmed."
Nyota nods ever so minutely in what Sarek recognizes as a human gesture for approval.
"I believe that I am in need of more rigorous training in order to manage both my emotions and my disease," says Selik.
Spock seems to consider her words. "I have upcoming leave that I could use so that we might spend some time in that capacity."
"Though I appreciate the offer, I have another proposition," she says.
Sarek is quite close to sighing. As Amayel had said only an hour ago, change is most definitely afoot. And like her, he is suddenly wary of it.
NOTES:
These last few months I have been ridiculously ill. I am pregnant (yay - 20 weeks!), and have had the most ridiculous morning sickness. It is all day every day, and it means I can hold down very little food. Even a sip of water is hit or miss with me. Not to gross you out but I am no longer able to sit without a trash can near by to catch my throw up, whether I've eaten anything or not. It has not subsided after the first trimester, like it typically does. I've lost loads of weight and it's just generally turned me into a pile of dirty dish cloths. The worst part is still having to go to work. Good news is I'm a teacher, yeah, so this is my 2-week winter break. Hopefully I can get some more chapters out to you.