T'Khut set slowly in the pre-dawn sky, reluctant to surrender to the sun's reign over the day. A le- matya prowled, searching for an unwary creature to kill and devour. A stone residence sat alone, dwarfed by the eerie luminescence that the sister-planet cast across the desert sands of Gol. Inside, a human woman stifled a cry of pain.
Her husband Silvek stood behind her, supporting her. A female healer crouched at her feet, lightly touching her swollen stomach, easing a little of the pain. At her side was her husband's mother, conveying concern, yet still as stoic as any Vulcan matriarch should be.
"You are doing well," the healer assured them, knowing that the woman needed the encouragement. Humans needed much reassurance and coaching during labor and delivery, which was why many Vulcan healers preferred not attending interspecies births. She did not mind, though, and believed in assisting all those who requested her help. This woman impressed her, not crying out nearly as much as most human women did.
"How soon?" asked the mother-in-law quietly. Out in the desert, the le-matya screamed in defiance of the approaching dawn.
The healer glanced out the open window, then announced intuitively, "You will hold your child by daybreak."
"Brianne," the woman's husband spoke softly. "Listen to the healer. It is almost over."
The woman just nodded, not wanting to divert enough energy away from bearing down to speak.
"Good," the healer nodded. "The head is emerging."
Outside, a warm breeze began to gently tease the sand, but no one noticed, save the le-matya as it retreated to its lair.
The silvery shadows that T'Khut spun during the night dissolved into gold. The fiery sun broke over the horizon as the infant's first screams filled the thin desert air. A moment later, the healer handed the child to its father.
My daughter, he thought numbly, fighting to keep his emotions from showing. The healer turned her head away, for which he was grateful. He carefully placed the tiny girl in her mother's arms, then looked at his own mother. "A girl," he informed her needlessly.
The healer finished cleaning up, and stood. "What will you call her?" she asked.
Silvek glanced at his wife. They had been discussing names for the past three months and had been unable to agree whether the child should bear a human or Vulcan name. Finally, they had given up and agreed to let someone else do the choosing. Brianne looked over at her mother-in-law. "Saavik, it would honor us if you would name our daughter."
Saavik was silent for a moment, then took the infant in her arms and walked up to the window. The great heights of Mount Seleya formed a silhouette in the distance, an impressive view surrounded by the burning sands of Gol. "You shall have two names, my granddaughter," Saavik declared. "Orianna, because you were born as the sun rose...T'Kev to remind you of the darkness that must come before the dawn."
She turned away from the window, and placed the restless newborn back in the arms of her mother.
end