Of Mnemosyne
Posted on Wed Oct 1st, 2025 @ 9:04pm by Lieutenant Sivek
Edited on on Thu Oct 2nd, 2025 @ 10:22pm
1,229 words; about a 6 minute read
Mission:
In The Nick Of Time
Location: Shi'Kahr City, Vulcan
Timeline: Thirty Three Years Prior to MD001
The scent of warm broth drifted in the midday air, warm with spices and salt, several threads of steam rising from the black stone bowl.
Perak sat alone in the corner of the restaurant, the creases of his face resembled more like a topographical map of rivers and valleys than lines indicating his age. He raised the shallow spoon to his lips carefully. Around him, Shi'Kahr City moved with its usual order: snippets of quiet conversation, the squared geometry of shadows around the city block cast along the smooth red walkways. It was a place of rest, not of discourse.
Sivek approached with a stride exuding certainty, and one who had rehearsed the moment a hundred times. His hands were clasped behind his back, posture precise, but his eyes betrayed a level of profound gravity. His hair was black and neat, trimmed perfectly along the forehead and temples, falling neatly in symmetrical lines around his ears. He wore a grey tunic with a thin black sash denoting his role as a recent VSA graduate.
He stopped just before Perak's table.
"Subaltern Perak," he said evenly, inclining his head with respect. "I apologize for the intrusion. I require clarification regarding my proposal. Three months have elapsed. Ordinarily your office delivers a decision within one."
Perak seemed to bristle slightly, the spoon pausing just before his lips. He set it down carefully, leaving it submerged in the bowl and folded his fingers together. "This is not an appropriate venue..." He searched the face of the youthful Vulcan standing next to his table.
"Sivek," he said with a barely perceptible nod.
"...Sivek." Perak too a small breath before continuing. "The Directorate considers such matters at the appointed time."
"And yet," Sivek pressed, his tone smooth, "this is the fourth proposal I have submitted in two years. Each was dismissed within the expected window. This delay suggests deliberation of an unusual nature. I ask only for transparency."
The Subaltern's gaze lingered on the soup for a moment longer, as though the pattern of oil across its surface deserved further study. Then, with a faint exhalation that could have been confused for resignation, he looked up.
"The decision was reached last week," he said. "I'm afraid your proposal has been denied."
Sivek's lips parted slightly. "Denied?"
"Your arguments were persuasive," Perak allowed, "but the committee has expressed concern. Your persistence regarding Anomaly Kappa-Iota-66 is... disquieting. Such fixation is not conducive to balanced scientific inquiry."
Perak returned his attention to his meal, bringing another spoonful upward toward his lips until the young Vulcan spoke again. The moment Sivek opened his mouth to speak, the Subaltern lowered it once more with a slight disappointed expression.
"The data is sound," Sivek countered, his voice carrying slightly more weight, though there was no rise in tone. "The resources minimal. Three weeks only. You are aware that the opportunity--"
"The decision," Perak interrupted gently, "has been made. The anomaly lies in disputed territory. Its priority is low. Perhaps in time the Directorate will return to it. Should that occur, your participation will be evaluated. Until then, you would do well to broaden your pursuits."
The silence that followed felt like the whole of Shi'Kahr City had disappeared. At last, Sivek inclined his head. "Then I thank you for your candor. I will not intrude further."
He turned, his steps completely measured, his boots rapping along the red walkway.
Outside, the streets of Shi'Kahr unravelled in all cardinal directions beneath the light of Vulcan's midday sun. The air shimmered in the heat. Traders arranged wares with meticulous hands, children crossed plazas in careful lines, bells tolled from a distant tower.
Sivek walked among them, his face a mask of calm. But beneath his measured stride, something uncoiled--like a knotted rope loosening on its own.
He told himself the refusal was logical. That Perak was correct. That patience was indeed required.
And yet the thought burned fully, unextinguished: They would not let him look for her.
The corridors of the facility smelled of stale air and antiseptic. Silence gathered in the corners, disrupted only by the sound of attendants passing through the corridor between rooms. Some of the doors stood open, revealing the still figures of Vulcans confined to beds, their features scored deeply by age or decline.
Sivek moved through the corridor like a ghost, hands folded behind him, until he reached a narrow doorway. Inside, an elderly Vulcan man sat at a desk, an overhead light falling weakly across a logic puzzle of interlocking three-dimensional shapes. The old man's hands shook as he tried to twist one of the pieces into place. Twice he failed, the tremor too much. His sigh was almost inaudible, but there was resignation behind it.
Stepping forward, Sivek placed a hand over the elderly Vulcan's without a word, steadying the tremor. Together, they rotated the piece until it clicked home with accuracy. The elderly Vulcan looked up, one eye clouded, the other narrowing in scrutiny. Slowly, the recognition formed. He raised his trembling hand, the fingers parted in the typical Vulcan gesture of greeting.
Sivek mirrored it, unblinking.
"Sivek, my son," the elderly male began. "Three cycles ago, I was capable of replacing a power relay unaided. Now, I cannot rotate a piece to a child's logic puzzle."
The young Vulcan remained still for a long moment. Then, softly replied, "Sovek, my father, the Directorate has denied my proposal to revisit the anomaly."
Sovek pushed himself up, moving carefully across the room toward a prepared tray of tea. "Their interest no longer lies in temporal research. Seismology. Meteorology. Matters beneath their feet, not beyond their horizon." His shuffle was very uneven, but his voice held a measured delivery.
"I will begin work on another proposal," Sivek replied. "When time permits."
Sovek lifted the teapot, and poured the tan-coloured liquid into two mugs. "It is highly illogical," he said, "to submit the same proposal and expect a different outcome." His hand shook mid-pour, splattering hot drops across the elder's hand and onto the floor.
Sivek moved quickly, relieving his father of the mugs, setting them down. He guided Sovek to the water basin and tilted the old man's scalded hand beneath a stream of cold water.
"The tremors are not the worst," Sovek murmured, watching his son prepare a bandage with a white cloth. "It is the visions. The dissolution of thought. Here, surrounded by the infirm, I am reminded daily that death advances, though I am scarcely past the midpoint of my years."
The younger Vulcan secured the makeshift compress and carefully helped his father back into the chair. His voice carried conviction: "The data should have been sufficient."
Sovek sipped from the mug Sivek placed before him, steam curling upward. "I have a different idea." He gestured gaintly toward the desk. "The drawer."
Sivek leaned over and opened it. Inside lay a single data PADD, the emblem of Starfleet etched in silver across its face.
Starfleet Science.
He looked down at it, then back at his father, who watched him with the certainty of someone who had long ago set the first piece of a puzzle in motion.
A Post By
Lieutenant Sivek
Chief Engineering Officer
USS Herodotus DTI-30656
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