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A Vulcan Scorned


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Love & Betrayal

A Vulcan Scorned

Pon Farr … It is a time of chaos and madness in a Vulcan’s life when Logic and clear thought are as foreign as cowardice is to a Klingon. Every seventh year of a Vulcan’s adult life, a pilgrimage is made home to participate in the Vulcan mating cycle, or die trying. Today is that day for Seltuur. This is the day that he would finally be married to his betrothed, Sivah.

The burning fever of his Vulcan blood was rising. He had been meditating constantly to stave off the effects of the Pon Farr. Regardless of his efforts, the chaos would always win over, and logic would fail him. Making matters worse was the lateness of his betrothed. Illogically, she had chosen to join Starfleet. He would change that once he was her husband and could dictate her role in their lives. His views were traditional, and her place was at home. It was logical.

He screamed out in brash anger as he grabbed a dresser and flung it easily across the room as if he had tossed a pillow. Grabbing a chair, he tore it apart and began to pound furiously onto the bed with one leg from the chair. His grip on reality was rapidly fading. He needed his betrothed. He needed her now!!

“WHERE IS SHE?!?!” he yelled.

The priestess who had been tending to him during his time of Pon Farr rushed inside with the crashing sound. She rushed forward to touch his forehead in order to relay calming thoughts. He resisted at first, but she managed to wrestle through enough to get him to listen.

“Peace, Seltuur,” she replied, “Peace and Calm … She has arrived. The ceremony will begin within the hour.”

It was more her gentle touch, sweet fragrance, and soft voice that calmed him down than her calming thoughts. He steepled his fingers together and nodded quickly as he tried to focus and bottle his rage inside. She helped him into his ceremonial robes and escorted him to the arena where the starting ritual would take place. In the center of the arena, a silvery gong hung. He walked over, picked up the hammer, and struck the gong rhythmically a couple times to begin. The Priestess walked over to the edge and waited for the Betrothed and the rest who would be involved. Within a couple minutes, the entourage had arrived and the ceremony was to begin.

Dressed in similar, but more feminine, robes was his betrothed: Sivah. She was strikingly beautiful with brilliant brown eyes, dark shiny black hair, and the figure of a Greek goddess from Earth Mythology. She seemed perfectly calm, however. Not at all like Seltuur, who was deep into his Pon Farr. How she could be so perfectly calm was a mystery to him. Another mystery was the other woman with her. This strange guest was clearly an off-worlder, and a member of Starfleet by the uniform. She was pretty as humans go, blond, with pretty green eyes, and a good figure. Her identity was revealed when the High Priestess addressed Sivah.

“Sivah? Thee brings off worlders to thy sacred rite?”

Sivah gave a nod to the blond with her, “She is my friend, Angelica Bishop. It is my right to have her here.”

The High Priestess nodded and looked to Angelica, “Since thee is an off worlder, we do not expect thee to understand. If thee has any questions, they will be answered after.”

Angelica gave a respectful bow, “Thank you, my lady.”

The High Priestess bowed her head in return, seeming to appreciate the gesture of respect. She motioned with her hand to begin the Koon-ut-kal-if-fee. Seltuur lifted the hammer to strike the gong and begin the marriage when Sivah marched over, and placed her hand in the way and shouted her choice.


Seltuur dropped the hammer and looked to the High Priestess, who raised an eyebrow to Sivah, “who will be thy champion?”

Sivah closed her eyes, and silently went over her plan again. Deep down, she didn’t like Seltuur. She barely knew him, but knew his family. As the days of their marriage approached, she kept getting letters from him, dictating his dissatisfaction with her being in Starfleet. She knew this would be the one and only time to finally be away from him. She had to choose her champion carefully. There was only one thing she wanted, but she had to be careful in order to not reveal her plan too soon. When she made her choice, the silent gasps of those present filled the arena.

She stood before the Priestess who had been tending to Seltuur, and pointed, “I choose her!”

“This is highly unusual,” remarked the High Priestess as she nodded to the chosen Champion.

The Priestess stepped forward as she was given the Lirpa by one of the guards. Seltuur was given the other. With a shout from the High Priestess, the challenge began with the collision of both of the lirpa. The Priestess was outmatched and hesitant, but her grace and dexterity gave her an advantage. She was able to dodge and weave Seltuur’s furious blows. Normally, women don’t fight in the challenges. Why was she chosen? What would Sivah see in her as a potential mate? Why would Sivah want a woman as her mate? It was illogical.

Sivah watched coldly as the challenge went forward. Seltuur was fast and hit hard. The Priestess she chose as her champion was rapidly losing ground. She gave a subtle glance around to see the looks of confusion on their faces as to why she selected a woman instead of a man. She knew it was illogical, but her reasons would be revealed soon. It was an illogical decision made at the most illogical moment of her life. However, as the saying goes, there was logic behind her madness.

The challenge ended as expected. Seltuur bested the champion. It was a brilliant flurry of attacks that started with a blocked downward slash, which was followed through with an upward strike from the blunt end that became a hard smack to the Priestess’s stomach. She dropped her lirpa and grabbed her stomach from the hard blow. This opened up for the perfect finisher, which was a slash across the throat that nearly beheaded the Priestess.

The blood fever was over with the winning of the challenge. Seltuur was regaining his logic and his senses, and the consequences of what he had done was hitting him. He hid his feelings well. Now it was time for some answers. Carefully, he approached his betrothed, and took a moment to study her. Sivah stared back with coldness in her eyes.

“Explain,” he demanded. “Why choose the challenge? Why choose the Priestess? Why did you not want me?”

She raised an eyebrow, “You are not the same man I had been betrothed to, Seltuur. You have become arrogant, traditional, and a dictator. Furthermore, you have betrayed our betrothal.”

“Explain,” he demanded.

She held out copies of his letters on a datapad. The most recent was a letter she received a few days ago at the start of the Pon Farr. The look in his eyes shows that he recognized it. She handed it to the High Priestess. Sivah went on to explain, “You did not want me, Seltuur. You wanted the Priestess, but she could not be yours because of her oath. In the illogic of your Pon Farr, you sent me the love letter you meant for her. Angelica helped me to come to my senses and see reason. When the time came, I chose the Kal-if-fee, and chose the woman you truly wanted as your bride.”

The High Priestess spoke up as she glared at Seltuur, “Thee has disgraced thyself.” She waved a hand to have the guard escort Seltuur from the arena, and then turned to Sivah, “Thee is free from betrothal. Return to thy career.”

Sivah bowed respectfully, “Thank you, High Priestess.”

Sivah and Angelica quietly walked to the shuttle they used to get there to Vulcan. Sivah stepped in first, followed by Angelica. Once the door was closed and they were alone, Sivah grabbed Angelica and pulled her close. Their lips met in a deep kiss with their fingers caressing together in the Vulcan sign of intimacy and marriage.


Edited by Sapphira
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I think I'm missing this part to signal that I'm done.


Ensign Sivah

Science Officer

USS Constitution

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