The
Odd Couple
By Kara
and Riz
This is a Sirella and Martok story written for entertainment, not
profit. We acknowledge that the names etc. are the property of
Paramount/Viacom. We are merely borrowing them. If you have any
comments, please write to either zealstyler@aol.com or kdruidh@aol.com
Part Three - The Proposal
Although he spent most of his life immersed in books and reports,
Krollor appreciated the finer things in life, and they were
certainly in plentiful supply in his host's home. The Ja'Rod
family estate was positively ostentatious. The walls of the main
house were lined with banners and tapestries glorifying the
family's history - all 100 years of it. It might not be all that
much by his family's standards but a century wasn't totally
insignificant. The rooms were filled with antiques, ancient
weapons and books; so many books that Krollor felt as if he'd
died and gone to heaven.
Ja'Rod had invited a large gathering of influential nobles, many
of whom Krollor knew held some very questionable if not extreme
political views. However, after two successive days of hunting
Krollor had had enough of butchering targs; his aim had never
been all that good and he soon wearied of the sport. The last day
had been particularly tiring but Ja'Rod had made sure that dinner
that night was truly spectacular. Krollor couldn't remember when
he'd eaten and drunk so well. When the other guests left the
dining hall to attend the after dinner entertainment, a
performance by Ja'Rod's own troupe of Orion dancers, his host
invited him into his study.
'My friend, we are men of experience and have seen much. You must
agree surely that in uncertain times we must take care of our
childrens' future. I only have one son, and a fine boy he most
certainly is, but some of his friends, well, you understand. What
he needs is the right woman, one who will bring honour and a fine
lineage to our house. We are a rich house and our history is an
honourable one but one must think of the future. I have a
proposal to make; your daughter Sirella embodies all that is best
in Klingon women and would provide my son Duras with much needed
stability. His finer qualities will, I trust, one day make a
leader of our people but a leader needs the right woman at his
side. Well, what do you think?'
Krollor was astounded, Ja'Rod was making it clear that all he
sought from the proposed alliance was his daughter and no dowry.
He knew Duras was probably a little young for Sirella but Ja'Rod
was right, a future leader of a great house needed the right
woman. The House of Ja'Rod was one of the Empire's greatest and
he knew that Sirella was unlikely to receive a better offer. That
and the blood wine made his decision for him. The two men sealed
the bargain with a toast to the happy couple.
Having given his approval to the union, he was introduced to his
prospective son in law. For once, Duras was on his best behaviour.
He was hardly overjoyed at being married off to a female most of
his acquaintances regarded as being on the shelf and far too
haughty to keep a man warm at night. However, his father had made
it abundantly clear that his plans for him included the right
marriage. He could find 'amusement' outside the marriage and
Sirella would provide that aura of respectability. An alliance
with her house would meet with the approval of the old houses
which he'd need that if he was going to lead the Empire as his
father planned.
Krollor knew when he'd had too much to drink, and told himself
there would be no hunting for him that day. After the others left
for the final day's hunting, he spent the day exploring the
extensive library and texts on the history of the family his
daughter was going to join. Sirella would be beside herself with
joy at her good fortune, Krollor just knew it, but as an
historian, he couldn't pass on the chance to add to his knowledge
of his host's family history.
As he left for the hunt, Ja'Rod couldn't resist an inner smile.
Respectability was such an important cloak and the greater one's
respectability, the more effective a cloak it became. He knew
Sirella and his son were hardly what one could call soul mates
but the old houses had always held their noses up at him. Money,
land and other similar assets were things they publicly despised.
However, they certainly didn't turn them down when offered them
in exchange for one scrawny female did they? There was time to
turn Sirella into what his son needed, a docile wife, hostess and
breeding machine. With that settled, Ja'Rod could turn his
attention to more important issues, such as his Romulan friends
who certainly knew how to appreciate a man of his talents. Their
appreciation enabled him to acquire more land, ships and
influence and entertain his friends in fine style.
***********
Sirella was day dreaming of the future she knew would be hers
even if it was far in the future. Her par'machi had left that
morning on a tour of border defenses. It was a tense time along
the border and the Council had given him great latitude in his
choice of tactics if he came across 'enemy' forces inside Klingon
territory. It was as close as the Council ever came to giving a
commander a completely free hand, but it was also dangerous.
Martok was expected to engage the enemy without running the risk
of being held responsible for starting a war. If he made any
mistakes, he would be held accountable to the Council and his
life would be forfeit. However, she knew he would be victorious.
He had been able to make a quick message to her telling her he
would be away for some weeks if not months. They agreed that to
attempt to communicate again would be too dangerous. As cover for
the message to Krollor's house, Martok sent him a message about
the return of files and documents he had borrowed for study.
Sirella hoped her father would be slow to delete it after reading
it. Just to see her lover's face and hear his voice would be
enough. She'd spend the time he was away doing all she could to
keep reminding her father of Martok and try and show him in a
good light. She would have to be very subtle but she had to get
her father to think so well of him that he would accept him as a
son-in-law. It would take time, but they had time.
As the sun faded from the skies, she heard her father return but
when he entered, he was not alone. Why oh why had he brought that
pip-squeak Duras with him and what were they both looking so
insufferably pleased about? Krollor was pleased to see his
daughter looking quite radiantly happy, as if she knew in advance
the good news he was bringing. He was rather surprised in that
she was wearing her most demure dress and rather wished she had
chosen something a bit more revealing. He was not to know that
the reason for the cover up was to hide the bruises.
'Captain Duras has something to say to you' Krollor announced. 'I
suggest you take him to the garden as it is such a nice evening.'
Sirella had no idea what Duras would want to speak to her about.
She had seen him before, of course, but had not been particularly
impressed by him. Her mind was still on Martok so she was
actually almost oblivious to the young Captain as she showed him
through the house. Duras looked around him with growing contempt.
These people acted as if they were so grand yet they were clearly
far from rich. He noted the lack of servants and the age of the
furnishings. No wonder it had been so easy for his father to
arrange a match. Krollor would be hoping for some of the
prosperity of the House of Ja'Rod to come their way. Well, it
meant no-one would come looking for vengeance if he had a
mistress or two on the side, which he fully intended to do. He
couldn't imagine anyone actually wanting a scrawny thing like
Sirella.
They sat down on a stone seat by the pool in the garden and Duras
wasted no time in coming to the point. 'Your father and mine have
agreed that we are to be married." he said. 'I will have
several weeks leave when my ship goes in for a refit. That is in
six weeks time so in five weeks you will come to my father's
house to prove yourself worthy and make the wedding preparations.
I will arrange for my mother to send you the history of her
female ancestors for you to learn.'
It took everything Sirella had to keep from showing the shock she
felt. She had never considered Duras as a possible mate. For one
thing he was much too young. His proposal, if it could be called
that, showed clearly that he had no feelings for her. And she
only had five weeks to try and find a way out of this arranged
match. So much for having months to soften her father up about
Martok! She knew it would be no use appealing to her father to
change his mind, and her brothers would not help her either. They
would all see the benefits in the match, and as a mere female
Sirella would have to obey their dictates. To defy the wishes of
her father who was Head of her House was to become a social
outcast. She could not face that. She could see no way out.
'Well?' Duras asked. 'Aren't you pleased?'
'I am as delighted as I am sure you are' she replied cryptically.
'So let us at least seal it with a kiss.' he said.
Kissing him was the last thing she wanted to do but again she
felt she had no choice. Was the rest of her life to be like this?
She would never see Martok again, locked away in some remote
country estate and only brought out when her family connections
were needed. Rage flared inside her and as he moved to kiss her
she viciously bit him. He responded by hitting her so hard she
fell onto the path at the feet of her father who had come out
with a bottle of rare wine to celebrate. He smiled benignly. 'I
am so pleased to see you two getting on so well' he said, 'But I
do insist you contain yourselves till your wedding.' Sirella
desperately wanted to spit to show how she really felt but she
could not. Duras, wiping the blood from his face, was reassessing
her. She might be interesting after all, he mused. So he shared
the celebrations with Krollor and neither of them noticed that
Sirella barely touched her wine.
That night she lay tossing and turning on her bed. Martok was her
par'machi. He was the man she wanted, but she could see no way
her father would ever countenance her marrying him, especially
when he considered Duras such a catch. Even if she could persuade
her father to think again about Duras, his expectations for her
would have been raised and Martok would have no chance. There
were only five short weeks before she would move out of her
father's house and her fate would be sealed. There was no
escaping her fate, nowhere to run. She could not even contact
Martok, and even had she been able to, he could not rescue her
from this situation.
******************
Aboard his ship, Martok was enjoying the freedom of his present
mission. Out here, near the edge of the Romulan border, there
weren't the same chances of taking prize ships as he had enjoyed
previously, but there was the potential for real battles. Most of
the time they ran cloaked and conducted intensive sensor sweeps.
It was during one of these sweeps that they intercepted a coded
message which seemed to come from their side of the border yet
was directed to somewhere in Romulan space. The co-ordinates were
noted and they scoured the area the message seemed to have
originated from but found nothing. In spite of intensive efforts,
no-one aboard the ship could break the code. So he had the
message and all details about it to Central Command and continued
his patrol of the border.
**************
Krollor felt life couldn't get any better. For the past three
weeks there had been a steady stream of visitors bearing
betrothal gifts for his daughter and Sirella had been the perfect
hostess. Quiet, demure and hospitable, she truly seemed delighted
at her good fortune. The visits were mainly by the female
dependants of the House of Ja'Rod and allied houses. However,
they went on for hours leaving Krollor free to pursue his studies
without the need to chaperone his daughter. Linkara had come to
stay to see that all the preparations for Sirella's trousseau
went without a hitch. K'mpec had made it clear that the alliance
would be welcomed by the High Council as a way of reigning in the
ambitious but relatively young House of Ja'Rod.
Now that his daughter was to be so advantageously settled, he
didn't need to feel guilty about pouring over situation reports
from field commanders and delving into his particular passion -
the history of Romulan incursions into the border regions. Until
about twenty years ago, honours had been fairly even as regards
engagements and the Klingons had taken many smuggler prizes. The
number of prizes taken in recent years had declined but the
military engagements were still fascinating. Getting his hands on
current military data was not that easy. Once reports had been
reviewed by Intelligence, they were sent to the archives and he
had free rein but he couldn't detect any pattern in those reports.
However, Martok was sending him non-classified material and there
was no such thing as too much data.
**********
Sirella was bored and worried. The arrival of her aunt Linkara
signalled approval of the marriage at the highest level. Duras'
sisters had visited regularly and she had never come across a
more sullen pair. She didn't know what was worse, the arrogant
and patronising Lursa or the fawning representatives of other
houses. Linkara, however, kept telling her that the visits
conferred great honour on her and her father. The gifts they were
receiving grew ever more elaborate and Sirella felt that each one
was a rope around her neck tying her ever more closely to that
miserable weed, Duras. In only two weeks she would leave her home
forever and be under her reputedly formidable mother in law to be.
*********
Martok had never been busier. In the last two days there had been
three skirmishes and finally he had taken a smuggling vessel. The
action had been slow in coming; for three weeks he felt as though
he was chasing shadows. The mysterious communiqués had continued
and reported sightings of Romulan vessels had come to nothing.
The ship's communications officer had tried every decryption
algorithm he knew but he had failed to break the codes. However,
Lorikan had brought his younger brother along for field
experience. Martok had never seem a scrawnier, more.... well,
more adolescent warrior, but Lorikan was very proud of the runt.
'He might be small but he is a genius. He has already been
assigned to Imperial Intelligence as a code breaker, so we might
as well take advantage of his skills'. So for the last three
weeks, Lornek had been locked away in the comms room, studying
the reports received to date. Finally, he had broken the main
code and enabled Martok to decipher some of the messages being
received, not all but some. Enough to set three ambushes which
although successful had inflicted heavy punishment on the ship.
He'd have to off load the booty taken from the Orion smuggling
vessel which had contained luxuries popular with the more
decadent houses. Still, he'd send the inventory and battle
reports to Krollor. There were many ways to win approval of a
prospective father in law and Krollor loved data.
***********
Ja'Rod was furious, the Saurian brandy and other luxuries he had
been expecting from his Romulan paymasters had failed to arrive.
He decided to send an envoy with a coded message to the Tauvin
supply base along the border with papers showing he had orders to
a Klingon colony world. Once there he could send a coded message
across the border. He would not be shown up at his son's wedding!
***********
Krollor was absorbed in his research. Martok's messages had
brought the frontier to life for him. The young man was a skilled
narrator and had a gift for describing both battlefield action
and the day to day life on board ship. Perhaps, once Sirella was
married, he could invite the young warrior to stay, maybe make
him his protégé; yes, why not?
************
They'd only been at the Tauvin base for eight hours but had
already completed unloading. As a reward for his efforts Lornek
was allowed onto the bridge to assist the bridge communications
officer. Martok was absorbed in a letter from Krollor that had
been waiting for him. It was a long message but Martok could only
take in the first few lines. Sirella was lost to him for ever.
For a Klingon Krollor was positively bubbling over with
excitement at the news of his daughter's betrothal and the
widespread approval the news had been given by the great houses.
Although he had been alone for many years, Martok had never felt
so lonely and abandoned. She understood him and would have both
loved and supported him, now he was alone again. Before he could
become too maudlin, he was called to the bridge. Lornek had
detected another message being sent across the border and it was
coming from the station. This time however, it contained a name,
a highly significant name, a name too important to entrust to a
subspace message. He knew it was a risk but Martok realised the
information now in his possession was too important to wait. He
set course for home to unmask the traitor.
************
Krollor was surprised to put it mildly to receive a visit from
Martok. In less than a week Sirella was to leave his house for
the Ja'Rod family estate. Her prospective father in law had been
sent to Khitomer on urgent council business and Krollor was
beginning to realise that his daughter was entering a house with
very different values and aspirations to his. However, change was
inevitable and the deal was done. Why he felt so unsettled about
it he really didn't know.
Martok's visit was brief but devastating. Krollor's first thought
was for his daughter; he'd sold his only daughter to the son of a
traitor. The codes used to signal the smugglers was the same as
that used by Romulan vessels. He had to tell K'mpec. Personal
dishonour was one thing but the Empire's greatest enemy now had a
friend at the heart of the high council. He'd sent Martok back to
his ship and had called in every favour he could think of to get
Martok ordered to Khitomer. Krollor knew that time was running
out. Ja'Rod had to be apprehended before he could do even more
damage. He hurried through the city, his mind on what he would
say to K'mpec. Any other Klingon would have looked around and
been alert for ambush, Krollor never felt the blow or saw his
assassin. He was left lying in the gutter, his last thought was
for Sirella ........
***********
Sirella had been undergoing a fitting for her wedding dress when
she discovered that Martok was in the house speaking to her
father. She flew into a frenzy, tearing off the dress and
virtually betraying herself by announcing that she had to speak
urgently to the Captain. She couldn't even think of a convincing
reason for this sudden urge, and was past caring what impression
she was making. She had to see him. But by the time she reached
the bottom of the stairs, he was long gone and her father was
just leaving on some urgent matter. Her aunt Linkara ran down the
stairs after her, roughly grabbing her by the arm and demanding
to know the reason for Sirella's behaviour. Lursa and B'Etor
strolled down more leisurely, delighting in seeing trouble
brewing.
'I had a message I was supposed to give Captain Martok.' Even to
Sirella it sounded unlikely. She was saved from an inquisition by
a snort of contemptuous laughter from Lursa.
'Him!' she said. 'It is a pity Duras didn't hire better assassins.
Then Martok wouldn't be bothering any of us any more.'
Sirella was vaguely aware that her aunt was still shouting at her
and even hitting her but inside she was reeling more from Lursa's
words than from the blows raining down on her. The man she was
being forced to marry had been behind the assassination attempt
on the man she loved. For an instant she wondered if she had been
the cause, but realised it was impossible. She now knew who but
not why.
Her aunt's fury abated somewhat and Sirella allowed herself to be
dragged back to her room where she once again donned the red
dress she had come to hate. She wanted to ask more questions but
knew better than to mention Martok's name again. Something in
Lursa's attitude told her that it would be foolish to even
mention him in her hearing. Her sister B'Etor on the other hand,
obviously knew something. Sirella determined to get B'Etor on her
own and pump her for information.
The fittings were eventually completed and Sirella was most of
the way through yet another recital of the female relatives of
her prospective mother-in-law when there was a hammering on the
door. Linkara went to answer it, grumbling about the lack of
servants. She came back her face grim with shock. ''I can't
understand it' she said. 'Sirella, someone has killed your father.
He was assassinated on his way to the High Council. Who were his
enemies?'
Sirella literally reeled with horror. She collapsed on a nearby
chair instead of howling or screaming as a true sign of grief.
Lursa and B'Etor looked with scorn at such a show of weakness.
Certainly nothing that had happened that day had made them think
any more highly of her. Her aunt Linkara, on the other hand,
merely looked at her niece with a speculative eye. Everyone
except Sirella joined in a death scream, then Linkara announced
that her niece could not stay alone in the house. Perhaps when
the young woman had gathered her wits she would be able to say
who might have wanted her father's death so that her brothers
could look for vengeance.
'You will come back to my house until you move to the Ja'Rod
household for your wedding.' she informed her niece. It was the
sensible thing to do. Of course, it meant packing up all the
wedding clothes and gifts. Linkara arranged for servants from her
house to come and do the bulk of the work. Lursa and B'Etor made
a show of helping while in reality doing almost nothing. Still,
it gave Sirella a chance to speak alone with B'Etor and what she
discovered almost had her reeling again. She couldn't understand
her own reactions. They were so unlike her. She never showed
weakness. And she was getting worried at the way her aunt was
looking at her, as if she suspected something. It was all very
strange.
*****************
Ja'Rod paced round his ready room like a prowling predator,
anxiously waiting for news from Qo'noS. It couldn't all go wrong
now, he thought. Not after the months and years of careful
planning. It had all started with a little cautious smuggling
across the Romulan border. That had been the basis for his family's
fortune. Ja'Rod had increased the activity and in so doing had,
inevitably, come into contact with members of the Romulan
military. At first the co-operation had been merely based around
the smuggling activities, but then they offered to pay highly for
information and Ja'Rod had developed a taste for the high life.
So he passed on bits and pieces of information, nothing damaging
or that couldn't be obtained by a dedicated agent. His fortunes
had increased and he began acquiring powerful friends and allies.
He was given a place on the High Council. Slowly the desire had
grown in him to become more than just rich. He could see the
House of Ja'Rod running the Empire but to succeed he still needed
the help and resources of the Romulans.
Ships who owed their first allegiance to his house were
permanently posted along the Romulan border and their Captains
quickly learned not to question the coded messages they sent and
received from Romulan space. The messages all went to Ja'Rod or
Duras, never to the High Council. It had all been working so well.
Then Ja'Rod heard from an ally that some of these messages had
been intercepted and sent for investigation. The code was almost
unbreakable but Ja'Rod had no doubt that Imperial Intelligence
would find someone who could ultimately decipher it. Then he
heard that Krollor was making inquiries about ship movements
along the border. Ja'Rod had never believed that Krollor was just
a bureaucrat. In his paranoia he was sure that Krollor must be a
member of Imperial Intelligence and that he would soon put the
facts together. So he had ordered him to be assassinated. This
was not to be a bungled job with hired hands but efficiently done
by loyal members of his household.
Finally a call came from the bridge to say he had a message. The
job was done. Krollor had died and it seemed Ja'Rod's secret was
safe. The only other query in his mind was if the old man had
said anything to his daughter. It seemed most unlikely, and in a
week she would be in his hands anyway. If she did know anything
she would have to remain silent as his dishonour would be hers.
If she was so foolish as to imagine that she could betray him he
could easily arrange for her to have a fatal accident. All the
same, he decided to bring forward his plans.
The Romulans had been getting very worried about the colony on
Khitomer. It was only a farming world, but, being so close to the
border could have great strategic importance. The Romulans were
very worried about the fact that its defences were being
strengthened. If he were to help them disarm these defences, they
would be in his debt. He began composing a message for his
contact on Romulus.
**************
It was early morning in the First City when news broke that there
had been an attack on Khitomer. Fortunately Sirella was still
alone in her room when she heard the news, for it brought on
another attack of weakness. That was the third in three days.
There was a definite pattern. There was only one cause she could
think of. She wondered how she was going to be able to slip away
from her aunt for long enough to get a testing kit to check. She
knew that it was what her aunt suspected. Suppose any members of
the House of Ja'Rod suspected it too? Duras would know it wasn't
his child. Her troubles seemed to be mounting inexorably.
***************
Duras was surprised when he heard of the Romulan attack. He had
expected his father would have told him if he had planned it. He
then learned that his father's ship had been in the area but had
been destroyed by the Romulan fleet. He realised that somehow his
father had demanded too much from the Romulans. He, Duras, would
learn from that mistake. He would follow through his father's
plans, but be more cautious and more careful. It then occurred to
him that he was now the Head of the House. It was no longer the
House of Ja'Rod. It was now the House of Duras. He had power and
freedom. He could make his own decisions about his own life. It
came to him that he didn't even have to marry that scrawny
daughter of the unlamented Krollor. Yes, that was the first thing
he'd do. He sent a message to Sirella that he no longer wanted a
mate and another to HIS household that the wedding was cancelled.
From now on things would be done his way.