Title: After the Rescue

Part: NEW 30/73

Author: Karmen Ghia, karmen_ghia@yahoo.com

Series: TOS

Romance Code: S/Mc and then some.

Rating: NC-17

Appendices: http://members.tripod.com/karmen_ghia/atrappendices.html

See part one for disclaimers, etc.

"So we're stuck here until Star Fleet decides what to do with this planet," McCoy concluded, sipping from a glass of very good Rovirin wine.

"Alas," Kirk concurred.

The Enterprise and the Bharata were dry docked in the Talljet's former shipyard. The two ships had been in deep space a long time and upon finding state of the art dry-docks, Admiral Yakolev had ordered the ships down and turned out. Mr. Scott and his engineers were euphoric; they'd been wanting to 'spring clean' for a long long time.

The crews of both ships were housed in the now abandoned Klingon garrison the Commune had built. It was an impressive structure, well designed and beautiful. Set on a gentle slope, the building was a huge high walled rectangle containing a series of smaller squares, each built around courtyards. Each courtyard contained a fountain, which, like the entire garrison, was fed by an underground spring. The site and design had been chosen for maximum defensibility and the ability to withstand siege almost indefinitely. It had lived up to, if not exceeded, its promise during the recent period of Rovirin civil unrest. That the garrison was also heart-stoppingly beautiful was merely due to the fact that that was the only way Gozshedrefreingin Commune knew how to make things.

Kirk would have much preferred to be in space but he didn't mind his sojourn in the elegant apartments he'd been allotted. As long as it didn't go on too long and McCoy was with him, especially at night, he would suffer through it with as much grace as possible. He poured the doctor a little more wine and they watched the sky darken together. Kirk leaned forward and pressed his lips to the back of McCoy's neck.

They were both in dress uniform and waiting for Spock to join them as they were to dine with Admiral Yakolev and Ambassador Sdiz that evening. Kirk had bottomless respect for Yakolev and Sdiz but had not envied their assignment here. Seizing private property, facing down the Klingons and trying to forge an alliance with a hostile, fragmented population was not easy, even for men of Yakolev and Sdiz's caliber. The hostility was such that all the Federation personnel were housed in the garrison and it was hoped that it would not be besieged again.

Spock entered and refused a glass of wine. He picked up the bottle, however, to examine the illustration on the label. It was a pen and ink of the facade of the Klingon cathedral. There was something familiar about the character of the drawing. He did not recognize Master Ghet's rune in the lower left corner. Turning the bottle in his hands he found the Talljet Inc. logo, a ramshackle building set on a hill, on it. The drawing and the logo seemed connected to him but he could not quite fathom how. He dismissed this idle speculation and turned to Kirk.

"I have received a message from T'Pau," he said. "Only two hours ago Vulcan voted against making Rovirin a protectorate. She would like to know the chronology of events as she suspects Star Fleet has acted improperly. I will need your consent to give her that information."

Kirk and McCoy stood silently absorbing this information.

"Two hours?" McCoy said. "That can't be right, Spock, we've been here for days. And Admiral Yakolev ..."

"Speak of the devil, Doctor," Yakolev said entering behind Sdiz. "And he shall appear."

"Captain Kirk," Sdiz said, "if Dr. McCoy will excuse us for a moment, we would like to have a word with you and Commander Spock."

"Doctor," Kirk nodded to his CMO. He gave McCoy one of his subtle 'please let's not fight in front of the company' looks as he did.

"Good evening," McCoy said between clenched teeth and left the room.

"You have received a communication from T'Pau that I wish you to disregard, Spock," Sdiz said simply.

"May I know why, sir?" Spock asked.

Sdiz and Yakolev exchanged looks. Sdiz lowered his eyes; the Vulcan equivalent of a shrug.

"The Fleet needs this planet and badly," Yakolev told him.

"May I know why, sir?" Kirk asked.

"It gives us a strategic position on the edge of Klingon space, right in the middle of their shipping lanes, too. It also gives us a good place to watch the pirates, especially the Tossarians, their Autonomous Zone is between here and Romulan space," Yakolev told him. "We need it."

"Enough to act without a Council mandate, sir?" Spock asked.

Kirk gave his first officer a sharp look but noted that Yakolev was not offended by the question.

"The Fleet had the Interplanetary Ministry's blessing. Had the Council vote gone against making Rovirin a protectorate, a military action would have been declared to the same effect," Yakolev answered blandly.

"Your father's abduction was unfortunate and fortuitous all at once, Commander. The Fleet's wanted a toehold in this space for a long time. We aren't about to let it slip away now."

"Why does the Fleet want this planet so badly?" Kirk asked quietly, wondering if that was why Sarek and his staff were so poorly protected out here.

"As I've said, it stands in a strategic position between Romulan, Klingon and Federation space," Yakolev told him. "And it's rich in dilithium crystals and water. Something the Fleet can always use more of."

"And if the Klingons had been willing to fight?" Kirk asked.

"Even better. We take and keep more territory in a little war, Kirk," Yakolev answered smoothly. "You know that."

They fell silent for a moment.

"Spock, you must ignore T'Pau's request," Sdiz said. "This is not the time for Vulcan to interfere."

"I respect T'Pau's judgement, sir," Spock said. "I . . ."

"I rather wonder if T'Pau's judgement has become somewhat impaired over the past year or so," Sdiz cut in, looking Spock in the eyes. "I understand certain voices have been raised on Vulcan requesting she step down from her position of authority there for this reason."

"She is greatly respected in the Federation as well," Spock said, defending the head of his family and for the first time regretting not putting the privacy seal on his wedding.

"Yes, I have heard this, too, Commander," Sdiz said smoothly. "However, if T'Pau truly wished to mold Federation policy, she should have accepted the seat on the Council the second or third time it was offered to her."

Spock, finding nothing further to say on the subject, simply said, "Yes, sir," and clasped his hands behind his back.

"I have informed T'Pau that the information she requests is classified at Level Five and therefore unavailable to her," Sdiz told him.

Spock nodded and wondered how long a Level Five would stop T'Pau. Not long, he concluded.

"This conversation stays in this room, gentlemen," Yakolev said solemnly to Kirk and Spock. "It's only out of respect for you both that we've had it at all."

Kirk nodded, still puzzled that Star Fleet and the Interplanetary Ministry would risk even a small war with the Klingons, but knowing he'd get no more answers tonight.

"Then let us dine," Sdiz said and turned to the door.

The humans and Spock silently followed him.

* * *

In the weeks that followed, the temperature in Bikz dropped with winter's approach and Maja became a very expensive, very popular gyharine. He and Sarek moved to larger, warmer quarters not far from Vmormi's cafe where, at Ovri and the band's demand, MajaYaja sang now and then. Maja did not mind, he liked to sing, he liked Ovri and the band and the cafe was a good place to pick up clients, although by now, his clients were making appointments weeks in advance, so great had his reputation become.

The situation remained the same on Imk, the Tziviians were still looking for the invaders that came in the little ships and were watching the port like cats at a mousehole. Furthermore, the Tziviians were in a frenzy about a supposed invasion and so they and their new allies, the Hovra pirates, were carefully patrolling their Autonomous Zone, including searching whatever ships took their fancy. Maja had gleaned quite a lot of information from his clients and none of it did him or Sarek any good. Even if they could get on a ship they were likely to be discovered. Also, because of the rabid anti-Federation and anti-Klingon sentiment afoot, there were no ships heading in those directions. This being the case, he and Sarek had decided to stick with the devil they already knew. So, they were stuck on Imk, in Bikz for a while yet and that was that.

Maja seldom had the leisure to wonder what Sarek thought about all this. He was too busy looking for a way off Imk and back to his brothers or the Federation, even Klingon would do at this point. Any of those three could get Sarek home again and that had become the driving force in his life at the moment. Maja refused to examine why this was so, he knew it was illogical, possibly insane but there it was and there it stayed.

Sarek, on the other hand, spent some time wondering why Maja was so intent on his welfare. The half Mage had risked everything and was now debasing himself, however gainfully, on Sarek's behalf. Although Sarek no longer witnessed Maja's promiscuous melding with whomever had his price and/or something interesting in his head, he was still disturbed by the fact that it occurred. The Vulcan would have liked to have contributed some money to their household but he was at a loss as to what he could do. He was therefore rather pleased when he ran into one of Maja's clients, Obsta Fira, on Vcrisa street, who gave him a thousand bvojas.

"This is a thanks for that conversation we had a few days ago about certain streets in the Xvo district, Sait," Obsta said in Patois, over hot drinks in a cafe. "You did a lot to clarify my thinking on it. I'm much obliged to you, sir," he told him with a gracious nod.

Obsta Fira was a well educated, genteel, handsome vulcanoid NzrealiCheq. Born and bred in a wealthy and powerful family on Nzrealia, he'd tossed over respectability for a life of thrill seeking and then the ultimate thrill - crime. He was brilliant; brilliant enough to spot the genius in Sarek, now known as Sait. The conversation he alluded to was about the most logical way in, out and through a certain area, at a certain time. Sarek had been very helpful indeed in his observations, however, he did not know until then his input had made a minor (for Obsta) robbery successful.

Sarek had actually enjoyed his conversation with Obsta Fira as much as he enjoyed anything. The NzrealiCheq was interesting to talk to, he'd traveled quite a bit in this system, and was quite logical. They had several conversations over meals or drinks, but this was the first time Sarek had received any money from him. For something Sarek had done, that is - Obsta had insisted on paying Sarek directly for his one afternoon with Maja.

That had been an odd afternoon for Maja. Obsta had bullied Maja's client into giving his appointment to him and then he'd only taken Maja to sit in a very public park for an hour before escorting him home without laying a finger on him. As a permanent resident of the Sargasso space, the NzrealiCheq was naturally very well shielded, so Maja was unable to get any information from him without direct physical contact. Although neither species know it, the Nzeralians have much in common with the Vulcans, including strong defenses against thought energy and a serious respect, bordering obsession, for logic. Obsta had then insisted on paying Sarek directly and introducing himself. And finally, the oddest thing was that he invited them both to tea at the Hotel Jnneneria. Maja, disgusted, didn't stay with them very long, he picked up a rich trader and disappeared with him. He was not missed; Sarek and Obsta proceeded to have a very logical conversation.

"Will you be at Nvra-miq's party tonight, Sait?" Obsta asked him, paying the waiter and holding Sarek's coat for him.

"I do not know. I would prefer to attend it with Maja, but if he is working, perhaps I will stay home."

"It will be quite a scene tonight." Obsta looked pleased. Nvra-miq was in import-export (drugs and weapons) and pleasure products (whores). He and his merch. were stuck on Imk and so in the true capitalistic spirit he'd simply set up shop with what he had and proceeded to make a killing. He was, however, bored to death in Bikz and livened things up by throwing huge wild parties. The one Obsta referred to was to be held at the Bikz botanical garden's ballroom and all of the underworld elite were invited. Maja and Sarek were included because Maja had so impressed the decadent Nvra-miq, the scoundrel had even proposed marriage. He was politely but firmly refused. "However, you might not enjoy it," Obsta continued, "so if I don't see you there, perhaps I'll nip round and we can have a drink and a chat at your place this evening. If Maja is out," he added knowing that Maja, who wondered what the NzrealiCheq was really after, made no secret of his distrust and dislike of Obsta.

"That would be pleasant, Obsta," Sarek said. "If Maja is out," he added, acknowledging Maja's negative and incomprehensible attitude toward Obsta. They parted company at Bzod street and Sarek, a thousand bvojas richer, made his way home in the deepening twilight.

Maja was home taking a bath between clients. A bath for Maja was as much theater as hygiene. He had candles, incense, a glass of wine, snacks, a good book to read and inspiring music as well as really hot water, exotic bath salts and sponges and brushes of all shapes and sizes.

Sarek had grown used to this hedonism in Maja and accepted it in an offhand fashion. He walked into the bathroom and stood over the very relaxed half Mage. He noted again that Maja's right shoulder was larger than his left.

"Maja, I wish you to accompany me to Nvra-miq's party tonight." Sarek looked calmly down at him.

"I have a client tonight and we need the money." Maja lolled in his blue scented water.

Sarek merely dropped each of the ten one hundred bvoja coins onto Maja's chest without a word.

"Where did you get this?" Maja wanted to know, neatly stacking the loot on the edge of the tub.

"I gave Obsta Fira some advice and he paid me for it," Sarek said blandly. "Now, cancel your appointment and we will go."

"I don't trust that Obsta Fira creature any further than I can throw him."

"Yes. I know. What is for dinner?"

"Mvolva and xzer."

Sarek nodded and turned to leave.

"Hey, take your loot," Maja called.

"It is our loot, Maja." Sarek picked up half of the coins.

"Tell me again what you did for our money, please."

Sarek told him the entire conversation and watched Maja's eyes get very big.

"Sarek, have you gone mad? You've just helped plan a robbery."

"Indeed," Sarek said blandly as he left the room.

Maja blew out the candles and scrambled out of the tub. He pulled a robe around himself and found Sarek in the kitchen, stirring the grains and vegetables.

"Sarek, this worries me."

"What worries you, Maja?"

"Your association with Obsta Fira," Maja said, irritated that he had to be so precise. It reminded him of being a school boy on Vulcan.

"Indeed." Sarek put the lid on the pot and the subject.

Maja was undeterred. "I think he can get you in a lot of trouble, that's all."

Sarek was silent, not wishing to pursue the subject. On his walk home he had evaluated the risks and found them minimal. Police enforcement was nonexistent in Bikz, robbers and other miscreants were usually killed by their intended victims. Sarek concluded that as long as he stayed in the background of Obsta Fira's operations he was in no more danger than usual in this city. Statistically, he was in more danger of being killed in a vehicle accident than due to his association with Obsta Fira. Sarek considered Maja's line of work much more dangerous than his.

"Will you cancel your appointment?" Sarek asked, changing the subject.

Maja frowned. "Yes, he's not very interesting anyway," he said and crossed to the comm unit. 'It would be nice to spend the evening with Sarek, if that's what he wants,' Maja thought.

Sarek set the table and they sat down to a leisurely dinner for a change.

A few hours later Maja put on a dark blue gown trimmed with pale fur at the neck, wrists and hem. It was becoming and kept him warm in the Bikz winter. Although he had mostly remained a vegetarian since leaving Vulcan he had developed a fondness for rich furs and hides.

Sarek had no furs but he was warm enough in a heavy black suit cut on simple and elegant lines. He had become something of a trend setter and role model in pimp fashion due to Maja's success and was widely emulated. For many years to come, pimps in this system dressed very much like Federation diplomats from Vulcan.

They hailed a taxi and were dropped off at the good natured riot that was Nvra-miq's party in the botanical gardens.

The vulcanoids made their way through the throng and into the warmth of the brightly lit ballroom.

Maja returned several clients' waves and refused to dance in order to stick close to Sarek. Social events in their milieu could be as dangerous as criminal ones. They moved among the festive crowd watching the dancers and poseurs.

Avara, Nvra-miq's madam, thrust two glasses of wine at them and tilted her head in her master's direction.

"Nvra-miq says anything you two want, just ask." She gave Maja a long look. "Anything at all, pretty one."

Maja thanked her and watched her sashay back into the crowd. He looked up to see what Sarek was making of all this but found the Vulcan's face unreadable.

The room was packed and the band was loud so they moved closer to one of the doors leading onto a patio. Nvra-miq had gone to the trouble of putting heaters around the building so it was warm enough for them to move onto the patio itself. They strolled about it, looking in at the throng and enjoying the fresher air.

They settled on a peaceful stone bench in a secluded part of the patio. Maja marveled that the whores weren't entertaining here. If he were not here with Sarek that's what he'd have done.

"I'm glad we came here, Sait," Maja said quietly. "Being here with you is far superior to my appointment."

Sarek nodded graciously. He looked into Maja's brown eyes and asked the question that was still on his mind: "Why did you rescue me, Maja?"

Maja hesitated but could no longer keep the truth from flying out of his mouth: "Because I can't look at you and not see your son."

They were silent. Sarek contemplating what debt he might or might not indirectly owe his son. Maja, humiliated by his own hopeless, unwanted, unreturned love that should have died a long time ago and didn't. They gazed quietly at each other, trapped on this strange planet, masquerading as sait and gyharine, finding each moment precious because it might be their last. Finding each other precious because, well, because there were no social codes, matriarchs, history, class, logic or anything in the cosmos to keep them from seeing how very fine and good the other was.

Sarek raised his hand and brushed away the tear on Maja's silky cheek. He put his arm around the half Mage and patted him comfortingly.

Maja pulled himself together and looked at the Vulcan: "Kinda a stupid reason, hey?"

"Then I have developed a new appreciation for stupid reasons," Sarek informed him and added, "hey," awkwardly.

Maja smiled and laid his head back on Sarek's shoulder since the Vulcan seemed content to let him do so. Maja had only had a lot of exotic mindfucking since setting up shop in Bikz so he was starved for the simple, nonsexual, physical contact with someone he liked. Maja's thoughts grew more of Sarek and less of Spock as he rested his head on the Vulcan's shoulder.

Sharply accented but lyrical music jerked across the ballroom floor and reached them on the patio. There was something very familiar about it and they looked at each other, puzzling over it, giving it their full attention.

Sarek looked into the ballroom with interest: "Maja, what is this music?"

"I don't exactly know but the dance looks like a Klingon Shakaar."

"Is it? I was just noticing its resemblance to an Imman," Sarek whispered. "The hands are different but the pattern in the feet is very similar." He looked down at Maja watching the dancers. "Shall we try it?"

Maja was taken aback: "Oh, can you dance like that?" he asked, sounding stupid to his own ears.

"Not exactly like that, but certainly a decent imitation of it," Sarek told him with the tiniest twinkle of amusement. He rose and drew Maja to standing. "I am taller so I will lead, if you do not mind."

Maja shook his head and held out his hands, which Sarek twisted up behind his partner's back in Shakaar style. This glued them together from the waist down and even closer when Sarek, innovating already, crossed his own wrists over Maja's back and took Maja's right hand in his own right hand and left in his own left. Maja leaned back slightly and bowed his head submissively, looking up at his partner from under lowered jet lashes, in classic Shakaar style but with something else in it, too.

Although he didn't get much practice dancing Immans or anything else, Sarek was really an excellent dancer and swept Maja along as if they were one being.

Maja smiled with shy delight and surrendered to Sarek's lead with pleasure.

They glided around the patio and then into the ballroom where their chic appearance was greeted with sighs of appreciation. The dance floor thinned to watch and give them more room. The vid cameras spun them onto their permanent record. Criminal conversations were suspended for watching such dancing, including the one in progress between Obsta Fira and his host, Nvra-miq. Obsta sent one of his runners to get a copy of the vid from one of the vidders.

Maja and Sarek were completely oblivious to everything except each other. This, too, was in classic Shakaar style but they were oblivious to that as well.

As all things end, so ended their dance. They danced two more and then headed for home through the dark, wintry streets of Bikz.

Maja watched the city go by from the taxi window and leaned into Sarek's arm, which was still around him. It seemed so natural to be in the Vulcan's arm he hardly noticed it. Neither did Sarek, watching Maja more than the streets. They were suspended in their intimate isolation and slightly jolted when the taxi halted before their building.

end of part 30

This story also lives at http://members.tripod.com/karmen_ghia/

Appendices: http://members.tripod.com/karmen_ghia/atrappendices.html