Cantrell: The Early Years, Part Four
IDIC, a Cantrell: The Early Years, Part Four Update
Brianna gazed out of the viewport, feeling the thrum of the engine beneath her booted feet. “It’s so dark,” she said as the space skiff landed ever so smoothly on the pad on the top of Mount Seleya, a knife gliding over butter. The only light, small circular lights set into the sand outlining the landing pad.
“Midnight,” Joseph Cantrell confirmed. “It’s essential nobody knows who you are, in order for the test to be valid. For now, you are strictly the Candidate.”
“Well, that’s not in the least bit impersonal. I do suppose it’s better than being known as the Anomaly, though.” As she watched out of the viewport, she noticed dark figures, barely seen, lining up in two rows, forming a corridor, of sorts.
“I’m sorry, honey. This entire road for you has been a hard one. I’m certain once this test is over things will become easier.”
“Easier? Daddy, you do know I’ve been accepted into the Starfleet Academy. It’s okay, I don’t expect easy. I’m unsure what God’s plans are for me, but there is a reason for all of this.”
Joseph smiled at his daughter, draping an arm over her shoulders. “Come, it’s time to debark.” Before taking the ramp Brianna pulled the headpiece, which looked very much like a Mediaeval hood, over her head. The headdress completely swathed her head, much like ones worn before a hanging, her bundled blonde hair also concealed. Joseph took her by the elbow to guide her down the ramp. The short line of dark figures moved toward them, a light wind rippling the hems of their floor-length black robes.
They were greeted by members of the High Council and Clergy. Joseph held his hand up in the Vulcan, split finger greeting, bowing his head in respect, glad and more at ease to see Ambassador Sarek and his consort, Amanda, was among the welcoming party.
“We shall take it from here,” T’Pran said, as she greeted father and daughter. She took Brianna’s arm, escorting her up to the chamber in the High Tower. The stairs wound ever upward. The coolness of the interior was refreshing. Finally, they reached the top. Brianna could hear the heavy door squeal on its hinges as her former Governess opened the door. Leading the teen inside the doorway, T’Pran guided her over to a chair. “You may wish to take a seat. Things won’t be underway for an hour or so.” Watching for only a moment as Brianna found the arms on the chair to guide herself into the seat, T’Pran lit the incense in the molten rock carving on the Dias.
The sweet, woody fragrance soon infused the room. Brianna had quite forgotten how calming it was. After a short time, T’Pran spoke, “You may remove the hood for now. It is time for you to change into appropriate clothing,” she said, opening a wardrobe and taking out a long, silken, white gown. “This should fit you well.” With a quick gesture, she bid Brianna come to her.
Dutifully, the teenager walked across the ancient stone flooring to the corner of the large room. Sweeping the hair out of her face as she removed the hood. Quickly, she changed out of her pants and top, folding them as she removed them. Carefully, pulling the garment on over her head. Turning to face the ancient floor mirror, she watched as T’Pran then assisted with the ornate head-covering. Once the girl was properly outfitted, T’Pran sat in a chair in the corner of the room. Brianna’s emotions were more than palpable, to her dismay. Outright fear the strongest of them all.
"If I fail," the girl began.
"Thee hast demonstrated thy ability many times," T'Pran assured her. "Thee shalt not fail."
Brianna chewed on her lower lip, her worries not so easily assuaged. Having been dubbed the Anomaly. Today would be the proof of that status.
"But" she protested and was sharply cut off by a look from her governess as the Vulcan woman slowly blinked her eyes in warning.
"Thee hast time in which to still thyself," T'Pran suggested evenly, holding her open hand out gesturing to the molten rock carving resting on a raised dais in the corner of the room. Incense billowed forth from it, inviting tranquility of mind. Dropping her gaze respectfully, Brianna nodded.
"I beg forgiveness for my emotional display," the girl solemnly replied. She did not move until T'Pran left the small chamber, nor attend to her meditation right away preferring to gaze out of the high, tower window, momentarily losing herself in the activity in the courtyard below, seen now as the sun lazily rose. Vulcans, dressed in formal garb of ornately decorated headdresses signifying their individual Houses and long, flowing dark robes denoting their station, am-bled about the cracked, parched grounds forming small groups. Soon they would be lining up to begin the procession. Brianna felt her stomach twist itself into knots. In her nearly seventeen Earth years, she had never experienced excitement, nor anxiety, quite like this.
Her telepathic powers alone were not requirement enough, she had come to realize; An even, controlled temperament, brought about through training, was essential. At the moment, however, Brianna certainly had her doubts about that, her mind swimming, drowning in a tide of emotion. Where was her control, just now? Strangely, she had been rather anxious all week, brushing it off as anticipation, yet it was more than mere nerves, she felt . . .
Brianna drew in a deep, calming breath, attempting once again to gain control over herself. In this frenzied state it would only be too easy to give into the tumult inside of her, choking off the flow of her psychic signal, in turn rendering her quite blind, metaphysically speaking. She feared she would fail if she couldn't get herself back under control, bringing dishonor not only to herself and her family, but to T'Pran as well; such a failure lending itself to the notion she was merely mocking the ways of the Vulcan people, as some had purported. It was a thought she could not bear.
Training in the Vulcan Way for Brianna had been particularly grueling, a regular war of wills; hers against T'Pran's. The governess sought to harness the power of the child's mind, indeed her very soul, forcing Brianna to be more Vulcan in nature, at times, than the human she was. It had been an arduous task taking them both on a fifteen-and-a-half-year odyssey against a backdrop of mockery and bias. Brianna had proved to be incredibly human; stubborn, willful, impulsive.
There were those, not a few of them Ruling House members, who contended a human could never achieve the Discipline. Some even suggested T'Pran must be senile to consider it, and some who felt Outworlders should be kept apart from things Vulcan. These were known as purists, afraid all the contact with other planets and cultures would eventually strip Vulcan of its own culture, or at the very least dilute it beyond recognition, as if they hadn't fully accepted the tenants of IDIC. Despite these protests, and after more tears, ranting and anguish on Brianna’s part, the journey was at last at an end. T'Pran had slowly won out, teaching the girl at first to refrain from doing that which came so very easily to her and then how to control it.
Today, fully schooled if not a bit anxious, Brianna Cantrell stood ready for the Test. The K'Matra, her Rite of Passage. It would be threefold in nature. First, she would be judged by how well she could shield her thoughts from others. Secondly, by her ability to mindmeld, being asked to form a mental-linking with another where they would literally become one mind able to feel each other's thoughts. The third test was shrouded in mystery, the conditions of which having been carefully shielded from her, set up covertly by the Vulcan Council of Elders. It was this test she feared the most, being judged in secret; not knowing what was expected of her.
Author's Note: This is an adaptation from my published work, Night Whispers. Forgive the lack of pictures, until EA gets the problem sorted out you get text, alone. When possible, I will add pictures. Thank you for your indulgence.
