The Forge

Posted on Wed Aug 28th, 2019 @ 8:36am by Commander Rita Paris & Lieutenant Commander Sonak & Az'Prel & Jaeih Dox-t'Aan

Mission: Family Detention
Location: Vulcan's Forge
Timeline: 2396

As the trio of travelers wound their way along a particularly treacherous gully carved by millions of years of air currents, packs full of supplies on their backs, the harsh Vulcan sun began to set and Az'Prel, who was at the head of the group, called them to a halt as the howl of a sehlat could be heard in the distance.

They were deep in the heart of the Forge, just as the refugee freedom fighter had requested. These were the parts she had been lost in for several years to temper her and prove her worth. "The sun will be gone soon. If this landscape holds true to what I remember, there should be a good place to make camp just ahead past that rise beneath a large outcropping of stone."

''Your topographic studies are accurate,'' Sonak confirmed. ''And so is your estimate of the time. Shelter is the first priority when facing the challenges of the Forge. I suggest you both prepare your night garbs as the temperature will drop significantly and swiftly below zero Celsius; but the wind will not abate.''

Already the gold of the blinding sun on the horizon was bloodied by the coming of darkover the jagged stone of the titanic peaks rising like broken claws to tear up the darkening sky. The shadow of T'Knut was already spreading it's own darkness to join the upcoming night as the sister lifeless planet loomed like a massive, ominious moon right over their heads. The reflective coppery minerals of the ground, the pale gold of the sand and the blood light of the massive world overhead challenged the night.

For Rita, her human eyes would be quite able to pierce the night, as it would be even clearer than a full moon on Earth. But lacking the protective third eyelid of this world's native inhabitants, the constant glare of this wild, desolate expanse would require her to keep her darkened goggles on; effectively making the coming night as dark for her as for her companions.

Donning her night clothes was also important; she lacked the natural hardiness and the self-control of her bodily functions Vulcans routinely learned since childhood. The night's cold could be as damaging, even fatal to her, as the scorching heat of the day threatened to be. Even to hardy Vulcan youths coming here for the rite of passage to adulthood, the dangers of the Vulcan desert were very real. Both Az'Prel and Sonak had already faced it; Sonak would insure she would not suffer needlessly. She was here to experience his native world, not to prove herself to anyone, least of all to her friend and to her husband.

It would be illogical.

As for Rita, she had enjoyed the day's exertions. The natural beauty of the Forge was intimidating and impressive, and reminded her of the deserts of Arizona or Utah of her own world, save for the blazing heat which beat down upon them which was somehow hotter and far dryer than her homeworld, and the fact that as said sun began to set, she could feel the temperature beginning to drop. This was clearly an unforgiving landscape which would test travelers, and she was glad to be well prepared for it with two experienced guides.

Cheerfully and efficiently she began helping to set up camp, as Az'Prel declared the immediate locale to be free of threats. Thus she and Sonak quickly assembled the portable shelters they had carried with them, made of lightweight yet durable materials that would keep the wind off of them, and enable her to retain some heat throughout the night. As she shrugged into a Starfleet Academy sweatshirt to stave off the early evening chill as she started a cooking fire, Rita tugged on a cap as well, to keep her body heat close as the darkness fell and the fading day gave way to the cold, dark night.

"It's breathtaking out here... the erosion of the stones from the constant currents of the wind produces some truly remarkable shapes and vistas," she offered, marveling at the natural beauty of the harsh landscape. "I'm very glad that we came here."

''Even Vulcans of today are fascinated by this place,'' Sonak admitted; '' and not only because of all the history attached to it. This is the soul of our homeworld; and connecting to this soul helps us find and build up ours. This is the essential reason why it is called the Forge.''

He turned towards Az'Prel.

''If you yourself communed with this place in your own universe, then we share the same heart. This, therefore, is as much your home as the one you were actually were born into. The soul of Vulcan is not confined to mere rock and sand; it transcends matter, and energy, space and time, so long as it lives within the Vulcan heart, be it mine or yours.''

His gaze wandered towards the bloody horizon over the dry landscape.

''It is not logical; but it is nonetheless true.''

"The Vulcan heart is sometimes not logical," Az'Prel replied, gazing out across the horizon as well, having swapped to the rust-red padded armor that she often wore for sparring and training. It had been modeled after the antique Klingon armor that she had been deposited in this reality with - her sole remaining possession of where she came from, and was thermally insulated as well as providing some degree of protection.

"Like other races, the heart wants what it wants and denying it is not logical, even if its demands are not. Denying it leaves us incomplete, but to temper the youthful heart for adult life it must be against the rigors of the Forge and the Anvil so as to leave clarity of mind, body, and soul so that the heart will know itself." The Vulcan woman turned back to Sonak. "That is what my mentor told me before leaving me in the middle of the Forge and telling me to find my way back to Shikhar."

''There are as many paths to wisdom as there are souls to follow them,'' Sonak said, nodding. ''It is up to each to find it's own and to follow it. There is a possibility that you might find here a way to resume this journey for yourself.''

Az'Prel stared back out across the landscape before them. "As I find myself in the Forge of a different reality, unchanged between the two, my heart is filled with hope that I will be able to do so, knowing that I will not have to do so alone. An odd sentiment for a logician... A Vulcan... But it is what my heart tells me."

''Albeit not in those exact words, one Human once said it quite well; no one is an island,'' Sonak retorted. "We will walk the path with you if you so wish it.''

"There are some paths that must be traversed alone, but for the greater path of life, it is good to know that I have found new family with you both and with others among the crew of the Hera. I thank you both for this opportunity to reconnect." Turning back to Sonak, she rendered the Vulcan salute and paused long enough for him to return it before turning to Rita to offer a more human thank you in the form of an awkward hug.

"Go find yourself," Rita whispered, holding the hug for a second before letting it go and gazing into the dark eyes of the Vulcan woman, her own eyes hidden behind the glare goggles she wore. "If you get lost, then we'll find you. But you're a survivor... I believe you'll make your own way wherever you're going. We'll meet you in Shikhar." Offering a reassuring squeeze of the arm, Rita stepped back into Sonak, tucking her hands under her armpits as the temperature continued to drop, yet the wind persisted.

''Remember, Az'Prel; logic is the beginning of wisdom, not the end,'' Sonak offered her before she departed.

With a nod, the Vulcan woman took off at top speed out across the desert.



Having left her companions, Rita and Sonak, at their camp site, Az'Prel raced across the sand of the Forge as fast as her feet would carry her, feeling free in the night air as she leaped from a ledge and landed nearly ten meters away without losing her stride. She ran like this until her lungs finally felt the burn she was looking for and her breathing control became a necessity rather than training.

That was when a trio of sehlats - a hunting group - began stalking her. They were waiting for her to grow weary from her run and slow. she could hear two of them on her right and one on her left as she ran towards a large outcropping of rocks. If she tried to avoid the rocks by moving to the right, they would have her easily. The terrain was rougher on the left but she would only have to face one until the other two took her from behind. Logically, she would have to try to scale the outcropping, however they were far too close already for that to work and she didn't feel like spending the night on top of a rock.

So she did the last thing that the trio of sehlats expected.

She stopped and pulled both of her blades, rolling into a fighting stance.

As the Vulcan cat-bears paused in confusion and stalked closer, they sniffed the air, sensing that this Vulcan was something different. The low growl coming from her throat and the gleam of steel made them wary in a way that caused the two smaller ones to shy away while the larger one decided to try his luck and pounce with a ferocious snarl and gnashing of teeth that would have killed most sentients instantly.

For the Vulcan woman he faced, she braced herself and took it, pulling the larger beast into her so that the ferocious attack was wasted, teeth gnashing at air and paws waving helplessly in the air as she lifted him seemingly effortlessly onto his hind paws in wide eyed amazement. Instantly, the ferociousness of the sehlat turned into meek mewling as he found himself completely helpless and receiving scritches.

The other two sehlats hung back in fear at the drastic change in their leader, not sure what to make of this new development. They were confused and a little upset that their alpha was so easily made a fool of by this stranger.

After a few more minutes of the dance between the alpha sehlat and Az'Prel, she let him down and he meekly submitted to her, purring softly as she sheathed her weapons and gave him some pets behind his ears.

She had made a new friend, but they were hungry friends. They still needed to eat and prey out in the Forge was hard to find. Az'Prel would have to help them find something to eat after denying them herself as a meal.



While Sonak had excused himself to climb a nearby outcropping to meditate in solitude, his bride had withdrawn from him, understanding that sometimes the kolinahr needed his own space, both physically and psychically. As Az'Prel had gone for a run in the desert, Rita Paris was alone to reflect upon her thoughts. Poking at the fire with a stick, she mused at the strangely appropriate nature of the circumstances. The freedom fighter had gone to run free across the desert, to find herself. The master of logic had gone to commune with the fundamental forces of the cosmos, to contemplate the universe and his place within it. Which left the human girl sitting by the fire, poking it with a stick, like her ancestors of the caves, who had looked up and dreamed of what might be out there amongst the stars.

Now, here she was, generations beyond those simple hairy apes, on the sands of an alien world, sitting around a fire looking back at those stars, amongst their multitudes even seeing the one that was her home winking back at her.

Coming to Vulcan had been her idea, and she had been glad to come. It had been more welcoming than she had expected- the modern Vulcans were curious about her, but mixed marriages such as theirs were far more common today than they had been in their time. Today it was far less of a curiosity, and simply an accepted fact. Their children would face little discrimination on Vulcan, if any at all. They could be children of two worlds, and they could represent both equally. They would be capable of standing on both, or either, and they would find their own paths. Now she felt confident of this, having seen the world for herself and encountered her people.

Coming to Vulcan had been revelatory for her. She had climbed Mount Selaya, and touched the soul of one of her spiritual forebearers. She had seen the great forge, and the Science Academy, and the High Command. She had seen the seas of Vulcan, and the great libraries. She had met the people, embraced their culture, and come to know the character of the planet that in her own universe, in her own time, existed only in legend. Rita Paris had taken a pilgrimage to the homeworld of her husband, because it was here. She had brought the sole survivor of a Vulcan ravaged by the Terran Empire to experience one whole and thriving, and she had seen the effect it had upon the woman. In showing them the sights and landmarks of his homeworld, even Sonak had seemed unusually content and at peace, even for the implacable Master of Gol. There had been a light in the steely gaze of the somber scientist that she seldom saw, that she suspected was a reflection of his fondness for his restored lost homeworld.

Now here she sat, squatting by a fire in the desert, thinking about her shipmates and crew that she looked forward to returning to, the starship that needed them, the lives that they had here in the final days of the 24th century, and it brought a beautific smile to the face of Rita Paris. Enalia would be pleased to see their return, and while Rita doubted the woman needed her as much as she thought she did, still Rita was happy to serve beneath her. With the Tribunal behind them, Enalia would be more at peace, she suspected, free to chart her own course amongst the stars. No longer under the onus of her mother's shadow, her privateer fleet would now under her direction be turning to an honorable mission, once and for all, with a newborn daughter under her care.

Who had of course come to her under bizarre circumstance... but that was life on the USS Hera. One that carried the goddess herself onboard, whom Rita found she missed, and whom she looked forward to telling the tale of this adventure. Along with the newly wed Mnhei'sahe Dox, the young Romulan woman Rita had adopted as a protégé whom she loved like a sister, whom she resolved to bring to see Vulcan as well. After all, Romulans and Vulcans could still seek unity, and that was a goal she suspected both Dox and Sonak would be willing to work toward, and Rita felt that the 25th century would need such bold courses plotted and set.

Life was still a wonderful, precious gift, for which Rita Paris was deeply grateful, and one for which she would continue to fight to preserve at all costs, both the lives of others and her own. Because in this wild and wondrous universe- multiverse, she corrected herself- the most amazing phenomenon that she had encountered were still, by far, the lives and people she had encountered, and the souls she had touched along the way. Tonight, here on Vulcan, alone in the desert, staring into the fire, she remembered those lives gone by... and contemplated those lives yet to come.

It was still the greatest human adventure of all. And Rita Paris, whom some called the Lost Navigator, was still excited and proud to be representing her species in their greatest endeavor of exploration, on the final frontier.

Boldly going.



The wind blew across his skin, as the chill of the night embraced him fully atop the hard, sand-abraded stone he was perched upon. Sonak's eyes fixed the slow rotation of somber T'Knut, filling up a good fifth of the dark reddish night sky. Despite the reflective presence of the massive dead planet, the sky was filled with more stars than could ever be seen on Earth, thanks to the thinner atmosphere of Nevasa.

Nevasa; the native word for what the universe called Vulcan; a world that had been obliterated in the false reality from which he had originated. Did that mean that he, too, was false? That his own reality was but the remnant of a bad dream?

Negative; that reality had accidentally sprung from this one, and temporal studies had determined that the Hobus catastrophy had caused severe damage, not only to Romulan space, but to the timeline itself. It had affected as much of the past as of the present, and consequently the uncharted course of the future. And, as temporal mechanics would have it, effects could precede causes. Red matter itself, the catalyst for the disruption, should not even have existed in this universe and in this timeline; it was brought back from the end of it by this inverted causality. In his universe, a by-product of the interaction between this red matter and the Hobus artificially induced subspace nova, it had caused many aberrations; from the occurence of classes of starships like the USS Kelvin which never existed to anachronistic technologies like the personal galaxy-ranged transporter, to displaced planets like Delta Vega defying the laws of physics and cosmology to alterations to the nature of subspace itself, turning it into a tunneling isolated warp travel instead of what in-universe displacement warp speed should exist.

Additionally it had altered people as well; not only their lives, but their very existences. To find out that Khan Noonien Singh had been a Sikh, just as his name implied, and not a Caucasian, as he had known him to be in their reality. That Klingons and Romulans were far more honorable, and physically different than what he had known, or that Vulcans here were far less emotional and prejudiced than those of his experience; these were but a few of the many instances of this warping phenomenon.

He had discovered through his researches in Starfleet records that his death here, in this universe, had also been caused by the red matter disturbance of the Hobus wave. His place in this universe had been erased; so too had been that of his wife, Rita Paris, who in this reality had never been rescued from her fate as a warp ghost- again, because of this manipulated aberration. That explained why they still existed, while their alternate reality was no more. Now that the multiverse cancer was cured, existence was working to right itself, to correct the imblances and errors created by those ruptures and malignancies. While it might still carry scars for a considerable length of time, it would heal, eventually.

Balance was, after change, the most fundamental principle of the universe.

Balance; at last, here and now, on this Vulcan that should have been his native homeworld, in this universe that should have been his own, he had found it; in this meditation, in this return to his native soil, in his bonding with this human woman who was the source, the nurture and the future of it all.

Nodding to himself, and to the proper red sky of his restored, his new, his true homeworld, Sonak of Vulcan stood to feel the cold dry wind of the night and then climbed down to return to his mate, to the one who had as much restored his mind and his soul as she had completed and enriched it.

The Great Experiment, the Great Adventure, continues.