The village of Masu is a settlement trapped in time, just outside the city limits of Shi'Kahr. The buildings are all constructed with sand bricks and laid out by hand; any technology used appears centuries old. A rare and flourishing oasis sustains Masu and the surrounding major cities of Vulcan, as deep below Masu is groundwater. Each day, the laborers of Masu mount the water ridge to extract the precious resource from the depths below. The Llaps'suik Ver (People of the Old Ways) are strong, hard-working, and peaceful people who believe that too much technology is a distraction from following the ways of Surak and is why their way of life has not changed much since The Time of Awaking; if it was good enough for Surak, then it is good enough for them. They continue to speak Old Vulcan as Surak did in his lifetime but can speak Modern Vulcan to converse with their more "advanced" brethren in the cities where they may conduct business with them.
One evening, as the sun began to set over Masu, a Plomeek farmer named Sha'Non wiped the beads of sweat from his brow. Sha'Non was a burly Vulcan man with small scars that peppered his face. The little scars are from decades of getting hit in the face with sand as he labored in the elements. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small drawstring bag with an herb inside. He took a pinch of the cutup herb, put it in his mouth, and began to chew. Micro bursts of water seeped from the herb and into his dry mouth. Mashau is an herb that grows in and around oases on Vulcan. It does not have flavor, but it does release microbeads of water when chewed. The amount of moisture the plant releases is only enough to keep the sensation of thirst at bay, not enough to stop dehydration if that sets in. Sha'Non heard a loud thud behind him as he gathered his tools, followed by a tiny voice whimpering. He turned around to find a wheel barrel full of Plomeek had toppled over and his four-year-old daughter T'Ming clenching her hands together at the sight of the mess. He dropped his tools to make sure T'Ming was not injured.
"I am sorry, Father, I cannot move the Plomeek for you," T'Ming said with a slight quiver. Sha'Non shook his head as he brushed sand dust from her delicately pointed ears and shoulders. "You are but a young child. I could not expect you to move such a heavy load," Sha'Non said to her gently. "I wanted to help," She responded just above a whisper. Sha'Non placed his two fingers on the child's temple affectionately to show her telepathically that he had been helpful to him; he picked Plomeek as he prepped the soil for another seeding that needed to be done in the next few weeks. T'Ming's eyes sparkled at her father as he removed his fingers from her temple. Sha'Non then scooped up the fallen Plomeek and placed it back into the wheelbarrel. "A sandstorm is coming," Sha'Non told his daughter as he looked into the distant desert. T'Ming covered her dark hair with the hood attached to the back of her tunic. She then took the scarf that was tied around her waist and wrapped it around her face so that only her dark brown eyes showed. Sha'Non did the same.
With the wheel barrel ready and his tool bag on his back, Sha'Non led his daughter towards their home. As the pair walked through the main square where most commerce took place, the winds began to pick up, and most people had taken refuge from the oncoming sandstorm. Sha'Non knew they needed to pick up the pace; besides, he sensed something within his bond with his wife, V'Lir. She was in great pain, and Sha'Non knew what was happening; she was in active labor, giving birth to their first son. Sha'Non picked up T'Ming, placed her in the wheelbarrel with the Plomeek, and began to rush home.
As he left the main square of Masu behind, his modest sand brick home came into view. The family's pet, Sehlat, was scratching at the door to be let back in. When the giant beast saw Sha'Non, he sat down and waited to be let into the home. Sha'Non abandoned the bushel of Plomeek in front of the house, picked up T'Ming, and carried her over the threshold. The Sehlat tried to get in behind Sha'Non but growled as he was pushed back outside. "Forgive us, Sen'ru, but you have proven to be more in the way during such times. Sha'Non spits out his wad of Mashau onto the ground before he continues speaking to the best. "I will come for you when it is appropriate," Sha'Non promised as he shut the door behind him.
Sha'Non and T'Ming stomped their feet to get the extra sand of their person. As he helped T'Ming rid herself of her outer robe, the couple's ten-year-old daughter stepped barefoot before her father, wringing her hands. "Father," V'Mir said. "I am pleased to see you. Mother...," the girl's voice trailed off as a final cry of pain was heard from the home's sitting area. Sha'Non said nothing but stroked his oldest child's temple in the reassurance that all would be well. When Sha'Non entered the sitting area, he found his beloved wife drenched in sweat as she lay on a makeshift bed on the floor. A midwife kneeled before her as she reached for the crying baby being born. The midwife poured water over the new life, and Sha'Non went to his wife's side. V'Lir's forehead was dripping with sweat, and her eyes expressed her fatigue, but she reached her two fingers to her husband.
V'Mir took her sister to get cleaned up and knew to wait to be called to see their new sibling. "Sha'Non, your son," declared the midwife as she presented the now-swaddled baby boy.
Sha'Non could keep his composure even as the air became caught in his lungs. "Remarkable," was all he could say as the midwife turned to hand the newborn to V'Lir. "Your service honors our home," said V'Lir to the midwife. The midwife bowed respectfully to the parents and exited the home. "I do believe our son should be named Sha'Nin in honor of your forefather," V'Lir stated.
Sha'Non took a moment to gaze at his wife in awe; even after all the years they had been married, Sha'Non found her as captivating as any Vulcan princess. She kept her thick, long black hair in an elegant bun, and her eyes were as vast as the desert surrounding them. Her mind is extraordinary; she has a wealth of knowledge of ancient Vulcan literature, artifacts, and culture. So much so that she was often sought out by Vulcan's government so that she could assist them in restoring new and previously discovered items. She also translated manuscripts from Old Vulcan to Modern Vulcan at their government's request.
Sha'Non bowed before V'Lir, "You honor me greatly, Adun'a." V'Lir gestured for him to sit next to her. As he sat next to her, Sha'Non gazed at their now-sleeping son. V'Lir placed her two fingers on his temple, and Sha'Non allowed a sigh of contentment to escape his lips. After a moment, the couple heard the whispers and the patter of tiny footsteps. V'Lir and Sha'Non looked up from their newborn to see the little head of T'Ming peeking around the corner and her older sister trying to bring her back to their shared room.
"All is well, V'Mir; you and your sister may come and greet your brother," said V'Lir. The girls did not have to be told twice. They hurried across the room and sat on their mother's makeshift bed to meet their brother for the first time. T'Ming tried to form the baby's two fingers to touch hers, and V'Mir stroked Sha'Nin's head and nodded in approval. The sunset over the house of Sha'Nin and V'Mir as the oncoming sandstorm dispersed before it reached Masu. Sen'ru gave up trying to get into the house and begrudgingly laid at the door, hoping he was not wholly forgotten.