Title: After the Rescue

Part: NEW 41/73

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

Legend: * * * separates events in time; ~ separates events that are more or less simultaneous.

See part one for disclaimers, etc.

"Your life would be infinitely simpler if you'd just fall in love with Kroldt and be done with it."

Maja looked over his cake and tea at Kzost: "I can't fall in love with him as long as you still live, Klingon. Amongst your kind, I only love you."

"Bah!"

"S'true. I'd swear it on Voren's life, I would."

"You leave Voren out of this. He knows you're jealous and he's giving you a wide berth."

"Jealous? Bah! I have your heart and that insect only has your body," Maja declaimed in his most arrogant Klingonese. "Which is getting older by the second. Doesn't your Vulcan take any care of you, KzostGhet?"

"He takes plenty of care of me, half Mage, so shut up or I'll go into detail until you blush."

"Ah, spare me, spare me." Maja drank some tea. "Listen, what if I didn't go back to the Commune? What if I went somewhere else, where no one knew me?"

"I would miss you."

Maja fought back his tears. "I'd tell you where I was and you could come see me sometimes. I could..."

"Maja," Kzost broke in gently, "what is this about?"

"I love him," Maja whispered as his tears spilled. "I just want to go somewhere and forget him. I don't want to see anyone I know, except you, or anything I know. I want ... I want to be with strangers in strange places. Thanks." He wiped his eyes on the handkerchief Kzost handed him and looked up. "Since when do Klingons carry hankies?"

"You've been crying since you got here, I'm trying to be flexible in this emergency." Kzost looked across the table at Maja and reminded himself that Maja was thirty-nine, not eight. "You know I will do whatever I can do for you, child, including dropping you in the far corner of the universe. However, please remember there are many people in the commune who love you very much and will be very glad to have you back with them. Have they ceased to matter to you?"

"Well, you know..."

"I know that Tien was born on this ship and I would be very sorry to tell him his parent has run away to forget yet another Vulcan lover."

"Klingon!"

"Or Hraja, or Farro or Prince Khat or that little apprentice with the big eyes you just took on, what's his name...?"

"Bhotebe."

"It's a terrible name but I saw that you like him. Are you leaving all that to mourn for another Vulcan lover you can't have?"

"Well, Klingon, some of us aren't as lucky as you with our Vulcans." Maja rose majestically and swept in front of Kzost on his way to the door.

He never got there. Kzost shot out an arm and pulled the half Mage onto his lap and held him there.

"Hey! Let me go, ridgehead!"

"Don't squirm like that, mongrel, or I might have impure thoughts."

Maja snuggled into the big body of the one being he loved more than anyone. He relaxed against him and allowed himself to feel safe and loved for a moment. This was easy, he was very safe and very loved here.

"Do you know why I love Voren so much, Maja?"

"Yes, but tell me again, I like to hear it."

"Because finding you and your brothers a safe home was the most important thing to him on Magidrian. He would have done anything for that, for you. What kind of Vulcan is that?"

"A crazy one; like all his family."

"Yes, very crazy to follow me all these years, pretending to be a Rom, or Xochian or whatnot so he could stay by my side. What kind of a Vulcan does that?"

Maja was silent.

"And yet your Vulcans leave you, Maja, for this or that or the other thing over there or Star Fleet. I agree it's bad luck or bad karma or bad timing but mostly just that Sarek and his son are so stupid they can't see they've thrown away the finest being in all the universe."

"He wanted to stay with me, Klingon, we were going to stay together, but the bounty hunters came and I had to make a deal to save him and ..."

"And now? Where is he now?"

"I dunno. Half way to Vulcan, I guess."

"Listen, MajaYaja, I don't disrespect Sarek the Vulcan. I've lived a little longer than you and have seen him stop wars, settle disputes and build alliances that will last a thousand years. I understand why you love him. He, of anyone in the galaxy, deserves your love. But he also knows that he's needed by many other people, too. Just as you are, Maja, just as you are."

Maja nodded sadly.

"So buck up, half Mage, bad times might be coming. The Emperor is sick and has no heir the Yhets and Haats can agree on. If he dies, the best hope is for Kroldt to step in as Regent for that sickly brat the Emperor's concubine squeezed out two years ago. Be Regent and rule until the Yhets and Haats find somebody they like better. Kroldt's the only one who can keep the Empire at peace and broker an agreement for the heir that won't tear the galaxy apart. And he's going to need all the help he can get, especially yours. The Haats lost some power when they lost Rovirin and you know what will happen if the Yhets are ascendant. The first groups they'll try to destroy are the Haats allies, which are you, me, the Hierophant, the commune and everything we care about."

They sat in silence contemplating this.

"And it's your own damn fault, Maja," Kzost growled after a moment. "I just wanted to put you and your babies in a safe place until the anti-Rom feeling died down in the Empire and that obscure commune seemed the perfect hide-out for you, Tien, Hraja and Prince Khat. How the hell did I know you were going to take over the Empire from the Hierophant's bed? I tell you, child, it's not my fault."

* * *

"So, Avara, what you're telling me is you tried to blackmail Sait, now known as Sarek of Vulcan, with the tape of him dancing with his gyharine, now known as Master Ghet of the Klingon Empire, and he told you to go to hell. Correct?" Obsta Fira leaned back in his arm chair, in his luxurious office on Broseria, surveying the late Nvra-miq's madam.

"Almost correct, Obsta. He said its dissemination did not concern him."

"Its what?" Taig put in, seated just behind Avara.

"Dissemination," she enunciated. " I had to ask, too. Means to spread something widely...."

"Like your legs?" Mogra asked, slouching by the window.

"Nope." Avara smiled at him. "Like the vid of Sait and Maja dancing at Nvra-miq's party."

"And he doesn't care," Obsta observed.

"Nope." Avara paused to put her plea in order. "Look Obsta, times are hard since Nvra-miq died. I've got a chance to start over, good house, good stable. All I need is the stake. I thought I could get it from Sait when I found out who he was but no go. What if I sell you the vid for half of what I asked him for?" She named a price that was triple what she'd asked Sarek.

Due to several very successful robberies, Obsta Fira was living large at the moment and took pity on Avara. Nevertheless, he haggled a little just for form and they finally agreed on half of what Avara was asking. He sent Taig off to get the amount in dilithium crystals.

"Here." Avara rose and handed him a disk. "Good luck, Obsta." She turned to go.

"How'd you get on Vulcan, Avara?" Obsta asked.

"Crystal cutter on Croza has a cousin who's an importer in the port on Vulcan," she tossed over her shoulder. "Name of MizqaDeVul, black sheep from some fancy Vulcan family. He's expensive but the docs are so good nobody asks you any questions. He got me in as a courier for a data company out on Nomsta in the old Tasilinian Empire..."

"Oh, yeah, what do they call it now it's Federationafied?"

"The Tasilinian Association."

They both made a face. Avara accepted the bag of crystals and turned to the door.

Obsta heard Taig ask her if she wanted to 'disseminate her legs' for him before she left. He did not hear the answer, he was too busy looking up MizqaDeVul's locator number.

* * *

Sarek had returned to Vulcan and moved into an apartment on the Strand. That the Strand was the most fashionable address in Shirkar was of little consideration. It was close to his office in the Vulcan Interplanetary Ministry. He could walk to and from work and he was doing just that when he heard footsteps mimicking his. Dusk was rapidly falling and he slowed down so Obsta Fira could come abreast of him.

"Hullo, Sait," Obsta murmured in a Rom dialect native to the Nzrealian homeworld. To Vulcan speakers, it sounded like ungrammatical Vulcan with a hellish accent but, fortunately for Obsta and his gang, it did not arouse anyone's suspicion.

"Hello," Sarek paused over what to call the thief. "Sir."

"Obsta Fira, Sait, I'm actually here on legit business." Obsta smiled, remembering how Mizqa had discovered that investment bankers in pursuit of development funding for one of the newest members of the Federation could get Nomsta visas into the Federation provided they had a real or imaginary corporation behind them somewhere. It was an hour's work for Obsta to cook up the First Bank of Kri and the paperwork flew on golden wings from there.

"Obsta." Sarek murmured, trying to suppress the rush of memory and longing for Maja the sight of this rascal provoked.

"Look, Sait, can't we go somewhere quiet and talk?"

"Yes. Come home with me. It is not far." Sarek turned and noticed a shadow nearby. "Are you alone?"

"Taig and Mogra."

"Bring them." The Vulcan moved off as Obsta beckoned his henchmen out of the shadows. They followed him down the street and into an elegant apartment building.

They settled into Sarek's featureless living room of rented furniture with the tea he offered them. They had refused wine as they wanted to keep their heads about them. All three had been deeply impressed by the almost effortless order of Shirkar and realized that one false move would give them away.

"Here," Obsta said, handing the disk to Sarek. "It's you and Maja dancing at Nvra-miq's party on Imk. I heard what happened. Thought you might like to have it as a memento of all that."

"Thank you." Sarek accepted the disk and put it into the viewer next to him. "What did you hear, Obsta?"

"That the Klingons dragged Master Ghet out of your arms and back to the Gozshedrefreingin Commune. That his heart is broken and nobody cares as long as he makes statues for the Zhaharnisha Cathedral." Obsta paused to watch Sarek lower his eyes. "On the way here I heard you divorced your Terran wife and tried to resign your job but got talked out of it or threatened out of it by someone high up in the Federation. It's all very vague about you, seems the Vulcans don't like to gossip as much as the Klingons."

"Vague but true, Obsta. A member of my family convinced me my duty was to Vulcan more than myself and so I remained with the Interplanetary Ministry."

"But not with your wife?"

"No."

"You want him back, don't you?" Obsta asked after a short silence.

"More than anything."

Obsta gave this some thought. He'd never liked Maja much but he had always respected the love between him and Sait. And now, what was different? Although they were no longer Sait and gyharine, but two of the most powerful men in the galaxy, they were still as much in love as ever. At least Sait was and the rumors in the Klingon Empire were that Master Ghet was the same.

"Well, Sait, you're the smartest being I've ever met or heard of," Obsta drawled. "What are you going to do about it?"

* * *

"Getting to Zhaharnisha is a bit tricky, ma'am," the freighter captain said, as he surveyed the dusty woman before him. He knew she'd come to Hozlostra on a commercial craft but could not imagine why she wanted to go on to Zhaharnisha. There was nothing there but a bunch of Klingon monks. He was taking a load of Hozlostra marble from the quarry to them for the barracks they were building there. "I've got a stop on Lzoast and Vremaia first. I don't really have room for passengers, either. I do need a maid aboard, if you can do that."

"When do we leave?" Amanda asked.

* * *

Sarek sat watching the vid of him and Maja dancing a Shakaar on Imk over and over.

There had been an ugly scene on Rovirin with Amanda. Apparently the Federation bar had an arrangement with Star Fleet that Yeoman Notaries could serve papers on behalf of Federation attorneys anywhere in Federation space. SerCixz, Sarek's attorney, had had Amanda served before the Enterprise had returned.

"Why do you want a divorce, Sarek?" She had been very calm.

"I am no longer committed to you, Amanda."

"Why not?"

"My commitment has shifted to Maja Talljet."

"He is not here."

"That does not affect the situation."

"Sarek, what happened between you and Maja does not concern me. It does not affect our marriage."

"It does affect our marriage, Amanda. What happened between Maja and myself concerns me very much and I am entirely changed by it."

And another with T'Pau over the comm.

"I expect you to return to Vulcan and take up your duties. If you wish to divorce Amanda, so be it, but you must return here."

"I intend to seek out Maja Talljet in the Klingon Empire."

"Alone? That is unwise as you will see if you give it a moment's consideration. Far better to return here and make whatever arrangements you can through the Ministry and the family. I do not object to your liaison with Maja Talljet, although the Klingons are not likely to be so forgiving. Has it not occurred to you, Sarek, how beneficial Master Ghet's removal from the Klingon sphere of influence would be to the Federation?"

"No. It has not."

T'Pau's argument was compelling and he had returned alone. Amanda had remained on Rovirin to arrange transport to Terra from there.

As he watched the swirl of color and form that had been the most beautiful night of his life, Sarek let his conversation with the Hierophant play across his mind.

"You're willing to retire from diplomacy if I give you Master Ghet, Vulcan?"

"Yes."

* * *

"A much better dancer than his son, dontcha think, Nolos?" Hobie asked Jir and Ling on the viewscreen of the Zoltir.

They nodded but remained silent, watching Sarek and Maja dancing their Shakaar on Imk.

"What did you pay for this, Ling?" Hobie asked at length.

"Nothing, Hobie, it's all over non-aligned space," Ling answered. "It's the most beautiful story of doomed love to come out of the Sargasso Space in living memory. Even the Klingons are in tears about it."

"Not enough to send him back to Sarek?" Hobie asked, alarmed. He'd only recently felt like things were going back to normal. Jir with the Sultan of Orissa again, Ling in his joyhouse, himself back on his ships and Maja back in the Commune.

Ling and Jir shook their heads.

"Well, that's good," Hobie asserted.

"Not really, Hobie," Jir cut in sharply. "The Klingons might be in tears over this doomed love but it's also put Maja in danger. They might not know why Maja risked everything for the Vulcan but if they ask enough questions in the Federation they're bound to find out that Maja is our brother. Officially, the Klingons detest all of us. Unofficially, we have a lot of friends there. However, if someone powerful enough, say the Yhet clan, who truly despise us, decided it would be politically expedient to burn Maja at the stake because he is related to us evil Talljets, I FEEL CERTAIN YOU WON'T THINK THIS IS SUCH A GREAT THING ANYMORE."

"Jir, please,..." Hobie began.

"WERE WE STUPID, HOBIE? DID WE REALLY THINK WE COULD JUST SEND HIM BACK THERE AS IF NOTHING HAD HAPPENED?"

Hobie sat back to think about this. He had been so angry to see the love between Sarek and Maja, he had not really thought about how it had changed them and everything around them. His only thought had been to separate them and get Maja back where he could continue to do the most good for the brothers. Now that decision seemed as hasty to him as it obviously did to Jir.

"Okay, Jir, what do we do now?"

"Get them out of there, now."

"And take them where?"

"Somewhere, Hobie, it's a big galaxy, room for everyone."

* * *

Part IV

WHAT OCCURRED AFTER MASTER GHET'S RETURN TO THE GOZSHEDREFREINGIN COMMUNE

Master Gozine Gozshedrefreingin Ghet of the Klingon Empire returned to the Gozshedrefreingin Commune in its new home on Zhaharnisha. His return was greeted with much rejoicing by his fellow communists but he cut it short, claiming to be tired and went to his studio.

An hour or so later Master Khat knocked on the big door and was told to go away. He went inside anyway and found Master Ghet staring out the window at the shell of the cathedral in the moonlight.

"Am I the only one in this room that's happy you're back?" Master Khat asked.

"Yes. Get out."

"Gozine." Master Khat sat down. "What happened?"

"I fell in love again, Maja." Master Ghet looked hard at his co-parent. "You know what a disaster that always is."

Master Khat lowered his eyes, remembering how hurt Gozine had been when Gozine had returned to being male and Master Khat had rejected him as a lover for that reason. They had made peace, become friends, raised the children and run the Commune together but the shadow of Gozine's hurt remained. He listened to Master Ghet's story without interrupting. And then he listened to the silence for a while.

"I'm sorry," he said at last.

"For what?" Master Ghet snapped.

"That you had to leave each other," he said quietly. "I'm sorry that you're suffering, again. I'm sorry I'm useless..."

"You're not useless, MajaKhat, I'm useless and foolish and reckless..." Master Ghet rose to pace the room. "I was willing to throw everything aside for love and I could not. I guess I'm gutless, too."

"I wouldn't say that, Gozine," Master Khat murmured. "Would you really have tossed it all?"

"Weren't for Hobie and Jir, I would have," Master Ghet said, looking his friend in the face. "Why not? The children are grown enough, you don't need me, the Commune could stagger along with the sculptors it has, so why not?"

"Lose you, Master, and we lose the protection of the Hierophant. Lose him and we lose the protection of the Haats. Lose that and we become fair game for any Klingon that wants us," Master Khat said slowly. "Or did that not occur to you in your love?"

Master Ghet lowered his eyes.

"Get out," he said slowly and turned to stare out the window until Master Khat had gone.

Master Ghet walked up to his workbench and inspected his tools neatly laid out for him. Someone, probably Hraja, had cleaned and sharpened the chisels. The studio was a big, clean and well lighted space made of temporary building material slapped up to house the Commune until they could move into the cathedral. Architectural drawings were pinned up around the workbench and desk so that Master Ghet could make sculptural decisions on the facade, altar and statuary. The overall design was like all Klingon cathedrals. It was to celebrate the virtues of strength, honor and fidelity.

Fidelity. Master Ghet could not decide if his problem was that he had too much or not enough fidelity.

'Well, as long as I am here, I might as well do some work,' he thought, tossing off the new cloak the Commune had presented him. He'd forgotten how heavy a Klingon Master's cloak is with all the runes on it.

Master Ghet took down the drawings of the facade of the cathedral and laid it on his table. He pulled over a sketch book and began to copy it in so as to have the feel of the structure under his own hands. Next he began to sketch in various designs for the frieze, columns and doors. Looking out at the moonlit Zhaharnisha landscape and the elegant lines of Master Whilla's structure set on the site chosen and prepared by Master Pzchaz, Gozine could feel his pain surrender to his art. He went to bed at moonset and thought of how much he missed going to sleep in Sarek's arms and that he would miss it for the rest of his life.

* * *

The tension between Masters Ghet and Khat was palpable. Everyone walked on eggs around them until it eventually abated.

Master Ghet was withdrawn and the Commune kept their respectful distance. He could not take any interest in the broken winged bird Hraja was nursing back to health, nor Farro's new feud with Kalzat, nor Master Khat's studio's magnificent mural for the sides of the Cathedral. Nothing was of interest to him except when he could lose himself in his own work and forget Sarek for a while. It occurred to Master Ghet that someday time would wear away the ache he felt and that made him even sadder for a while.

The Commune hired models when they needed them. They were expecting a female for the figure of St. Kzahran the Merciful, who was the central figure in Master Khat's mural on Klingon virtues. Mercy was not a popular Klingon virtue but Master Khat had decided to change the fashion by making Mercy, Grace, Love and Faith the theme of this mural for the cathedral on far away, obscure Zhaharnisha. Those who did not like it could go to hell and probably would. So the Commune was waiting for a female of a certain age to arrive from Drozerin.

Amanda had given her name to a young communist and off he went to get Master Ghet for her. The young communist had gone to Master Ghet's studio and been sent off by Hraja to get some twine before he could relay the message he was carrying.

Standing in the hall of the Commune, waiting for the child to return and lead her to Master Ghet, Amanda reviewed her intention. 'Keep your friends close and your enemies closer,' she had thought when she'd decided to bring Maja back to Sarek. She hoped Sarek would see the virtue in keeping her as wife and Maja as concubine and life could go on more or less as before. In such circumstances he would eventually see how ridiculous his infatuation with Maja was, at least she hoped he would. She had not really considered what a strange errand it was, nor what strangeness she might find on the way to and in the Commune. Amanda was therefore not sure if the men now circling her were some sort of welcoming dance or what.

"No, no, Fara, you're here to see me," Master Khat assured her in Rom, which she seemed to understand a little, and led her into his studio and closed the door, which meant 'enter at your peril.'

"Oh, perfect," Tien asserted upon seeing Amanda. "Right here, yes, step up there, thanks." The painters began to circle again.

"I think there might be some mistake," Amanda said slowly.

"She's right," Master Khat said firmly. "She should be nude and draped." He grabbed Amanda by the hand and dragged her over to a curtain. "In there, you can hang up your clothes and wrap that silk around you." He pushed her inside. "Look at the drawings and try to get the draperies as close as possible."

Amanda started to protest but then her eye fell on the drawings for the mural and she began to undress - quickly.

~

"I'm here to see Master Khat," the model said to Hraja, who'd come out to look for the little communist he'd sent for twine.

Hraja frowned at the closed painting studio door: "Come sit in here for a moment and have some tea until they break." He led her into the kitchen, made her a cup of tea and checked on his patient.

"Hey, what kind of bird is that?" the model asked.

"One that can almost fly again," Hraja smiled at her as he went back to Master Ghet's studio.

* * *

end of part 41

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

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