On the sim T'Plana Hath we are using alien delegations as a means to explore the alien cultures of Star Trek.

This is my little exploration into Vulcan culture, through T'Mari, a High Priestess who has come to T'Pana Hath as the Vulcan representative and serve the need of the station's Vulcan residence.

*/ Vulcan Embassy /*

As soon as the door closed the lights dimmed. If they had been on Vulcan, there would have been lit-candles around the empty room but since they were on a space station they were substituted with soft-light glow globes. The effect was the same; a stately, refined tradition that only hinted at a more primitive past that would have been a rough-walled cave instead of a darkened room of smooth walls and right corners; a gentle candle light instead of the wildly flickering torches like the wildly impulsive hearts of their ancestors. The children of Surak had tamed their hostile world as their tamed their own nature.

Against one wall was cubby-holed shelves. Sholk pulled off his boots and placed them in the bottom cubby space. His clothes soon followed, folded neatly and put on the shelf above and from the top cubby he stood on tip-toe to pull down the meditation robe, pulling it over his head, the black folds fell all around him swallowing him in darkness. His gangling arms found the sleeves and he pulled the garment over his head then did his best to straighten his hair with his fingers.

In the center of the room was a small seat, a board laid over two stone footstools. Sholk knelt on it and arranged his robe so there were no unsightly wrinkles. He settled himself and then raised his hands before him placing fingertips against fingertips. He obediently recalled his lessons for meditation and tried to follow them, but his mind was racing as his heart was racing; they fought against his efforts to focus, concentrate.

<<>>

At long last, Sholk found that quiet, perfectly still place within himself and he was oblivious to all around him or even the passage of time but it had been fragile and slipped from him as air through his fingers as he realized he was being lifted. Though his eyes remained closed and he showed no outward sign, awareness had returned. The board that he knelt upon was being carried through doors that silently opened and closed behind him. His senses were assaulted with the strong smell of incense that spoke of Vulcan's volcanic past and blast of heat, the heat of Vulcan, as if he were entering a great forge where the Vulcan mind, heart and soul was tempered. His blood pounded in his ears and he could hardly hear the shaking of little bells.

He couldn't help himself, he peeked out from barely opened lids and glimpse of the Priestess robes, great folds draped around her. He followed them up to her lined, cragged and cracked face like the ancients stone of the mountains of Gol, containing all the history and wisdom of Vulcan. He shut his eyes.

He felt himself lowered to his new resting place. The Priestess spoke in the High Language of Old. He imaged her arms outstretched in benediction. He needed to find his calm again before she knew, but he could not marshal his anxious mind, too alive with what was about to happen. Sholk could not even concentrate on the ancient words being said.

Then dry, warm fingertips were touching his temple and side of his face. Sholk panicked and then was deeply ashamed at the emotion that he failed to control. It was like a sudden fear of drowning, he thrashed uselessly in the water, but the waters grew thicker and thicker around him, making it difficult to move his limbs through it and he slowed. He was aware of the presence enveloping him that was old and deep beyond measure and his fear retreated before it. Comforted and reassured he was floating still and calm in the water he had been panicking in just moments earlier. The sense of age was immense, layer upon layer of a vast canyon that yawned and stretched down through time to its primordial beginnings. Sholk was just a speck, one star in a vast galaxy yet part of it all, the next link that would carry and continue on into the future.

For a brief moment, Sholk was on the verge getting lost in the vastness, all alone, when he sensed the presence of another being just touching the edge of his awareness just like a bubble clinging to another, then the thin film between them disappeared and in an instant the two merged and expanded into one. A great warm flooded every part of him filling up every empty space.

You..... he was not sure if it was his voice or hers, or theirs...... Us....... we...... we are..........

He knew her face, deep-rich brown of her eyes, straight narrow nose, curve of her cheek, pointed little chin, slant of her brows, the tapering of her ears, the thin, long black hair. He knew her as he knew himself, they fit together like two puzzle pieces that separate left many unanswered questions but were now complete.

Remindi...... Sholk......... Sholk-Remindi........... Remindi-Sholk.........

They reveled in the newest of together when suddenly they were being pulled apart, gently but definitely. They resisted but the mind separating them was too strong. Sholk exploded back into his body, suddenly alone but not alone. His eyes snapped open and he saw for the first time the face he already knew. They knelt before each, separate from each other but he still felt her and she could feel him as if some invisible thread tied them together and always would.

Standing over them the old Priestess held her open hands over the two small heads. She spoke, "Parted from and never parted, never and always touching and touched. It is done."