T’Amar was born in the city of ShiKahr on Vulcan. At birth she was given the name Vakh Wi Datorik (Awidat) which translated to Federation Basic, encapsulates the spirit of “bold yet prepared,” a reflection of her parent’s future plans for their only child. Her mother, a tenured professor at the ShiKahr Academy, instilled the value of knowledge and education as the basis for all action; while her father, a government agent with the Ministry of Security. She was placed in the ShiKahr educational center and introduced to the cultural heritage of the Vulcan people at a young age. She was regarded as a proficient student by her teachers and displayed a talent for mathematics.
The search for a Vulcan bondmate began in the years before the Kahs-wan. Elder acquaintances of her parents had revealed the presence of a Vulcan male of the same age. Although removed from the initial conversations, she often overheard expressed concerns about the adolescent named Lyras, and his parent’s philosophical lifestyle. Quelled by mainstream distance education and assurances from the grandparents to raise him within cultural norms, her parents agreed. Awidat and her parents received an invitation to spend several days in Shi’let’theiri to visit the preserve and facilitate a meeting between the two. Her father felt it was a timely trip for her to experience and learn about the desert life on Vulcan, which would aid her in the Kahs-wan.
Awidat was introduced to a variety of plants and wildlife while at the preserve. She was also captivated by archeological artifacts and treasures of her people from ages past. One evening, she observed Lyras practice the Vulcan Lyre, and it struck something within her. She observed passion and felt ranges of emotion within her, both positive and negative. A particular piece even caused her eyes well up with tears. She found music to be evocative and communicative, feeling as though Lyras was expressing himself in some fashion. Even after returning home, Awidat continued personal exploration in various musical traditions around the Galaxy.
At age 11, Awidat participated in the Kahs-wan, a cultural coming of age test designed to pit a child’s personal ethic against the demands of survival. She left the family home early in the morning with only a satchel. The basic education received from the educational center and the skills taught by her father, would be the bulk of information she needed for survival. By dusk of the first day, Awidat had managed to construct a basic lean-to shelter out of desert fauna and geological scraps. The first night was treacherous, intense sandstorms had demolished the meager shelter she had created, exposing her elements. High speed sand had left her worn and bleeding. The second day was spent gathering Ches’lintak, a plant with healing capabilities. The fourth night, she was embraced by loneliness. She felt it’s cold touch and cowered in tears, unable to escape its chilling grasp. By the ninth day, Awidat was hungry, exhausted, and tempted by baser passion. That evening, she was hunted by a wild Sehlat. To escape, she feigned her own death, burying herself in the sand and leaving her clothes down-wind. She returned the tenth day.
Surviving the Kahs-wan was a traumatic and life changing event. Indoctrinated by parents and teachers about the salvific and transcending powers Logic could bring to her life, Awidat was shattered by the loss of a close friend, who did not survive the trial. Indeed, Awidat experienced perseverance and persistence in Logic, but felt undeniably betrayed by the inflated image it had been given by those around her. Buried in the sands of the desert, she discovered Logic for what it was. Logic was a coping mechanism, a philosophy, a tool to confront existential angst, but it was worthless against the fear, paranoia, loneliness, and death experienced in the Kahs-wan. In keeping with tradition, Awidat chose an adult name; one that reflected the lessons learned in the dessert. She chose t’sai ahn’vahr (T’Amar) which translates “Lady of the Double-edged sword” taking logic as a tool, a sword, recognizing it’s strength and destruction.
The family mourned the loss of T’Amar’s friend in cultural tradition, on the day of visitation. T’Amar was conflicted with intense emotions welling inside her. She sought solace from her parents, and received counsel directing her towards Logic. These practices sustained her, but never quelled the intensity of emotion deep within her. The only solace she found was in meditation. Her mind, however, was not quiet. It was filled with passion and raw emotion carried by musical vibrations from memory. She often recalled an expression on Lyras’ face; a simple glance he gave her during a performance. In that moment, authenticity became real and understandable; the unification of It was attractive and she wanted it for herself.
T’Amar subscribes to the teachings of Surak and ceremoniously places the principles of logic at the center of her personal, intellectual, and professional pursuits. All her thoughts and actions are filtered through discipline and self-mastery; tools with which she cultivates the fruits of harmony, tranquility, and unity; the telos of Vulcan existence. The teaching and practices of Surak have enabled T’Amar to secure an exterior facade which contains baser passions and trenchant emotions. Little guidance on emotional maturity has left T’Amar emotionally stunted, unable to find resolve amid negative and base emotions bottled within. She has limited knowledge and understanding of sarcasm, ridicule, and duplicitous personalities and can observe no value or purpose by their employ. She stru