Title: After the Rescue
Part: NEW 65/73
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.
"Remain standing," Lord Suqiet said as he, Lady T'Pnov and Sjrika settled themselves to deliver Hobie's verdict.
"As we are all aware," Lord Suqiet began, "this has been a complex and difficult trial. Coming to our verdict has been no less complex. We commend both Prosecution and Defense for their presentation of the evidence and the formation of their arguments. We will not dwell on certain unfortunate and unrestrained behavior in this courtroom as the perpetrators have been fined and reprimanded for it.
"In the matter of the rape of Jaroslav Tikel, we find Hobie Talljet not guilty due to inconclusive evidence.
"In the matter of the rape of Dmitri Grushinkev, we find Hobie Talljet not guilty due to inconclusive evidence.
"In the matter of the murder of Gatshira, we find Hobie Talljet not guilty due to insufficient and inconclusive evidence.
"In the matter of the murder of Hypz, we find Hobie Talljet not guilty due to insufficient and inconclusive evidence.
"In the charge of piracy that Hobie Talljet boarded and took the cargo from a transport ship in orbit around Meza 6 during the civil unrest there, we find Hobie Talljet not guilty due to insufficient evidence.
"In the charge of piracy that Hobie Talljet attacked, boarded and looted an Ithintian private freighter carrying dilithium crystals en route to Yksta 8, we find Hobie Talljet not guilty due to insufficient evidence.
"In the charge of piracy that Hobie Talljet laid siege to the port of Griza on Frinta and stole the contents of several warehouses there, we find Hobie Talljet not guilty due to insufficient evidence.
"In the charge of piracy that Hobie Talljet engaged in a prolonged skirmish with the USS Praga, thereby endangering the ship and crew of that vessel, we find Hobie Talljet not guilty due to insufficient and inconclusive evidence."
Jir, elated out of his mind, suppressed a smile when he heard Hobie heave a tiny sigh of relief.
"In the matter of the three hundred and six outstanding parking tickets. As you know we have consolidated these warrants into a failure to appear and resisting arrest charge and in that matter we find you guilty and will sentence you now. In lieu of ten years confinement in transportation, you are sentenced to three months probation on Vulcan and a fine of one hundred thousand credits, payment to be arranged within the next ninety days."
"THAT'S OUTRAGEOUS!" Jir could not contain himself.
"Bailiff," Lord Suqiet said calmly. "SaJir is again fined five hundred credits for contempt of court. Our written judgment will be on file with the Federation Ministry of Justice before it closes today. This court," Lord Suqiet, Lady T'Pnov and Sjrika rose, "is adjourned."
* * *
"A hundred thousand credits!" Jir fumed in the prison hallway where Hobie was now a free male. "It's insane!"
"Jir..."
"It's an outrage!"
"Jir..."
"I'll appeal!"
"JIR!"
"WHAT?!"
"Hochofedra, Noli," Hobie shrugged and embraced his brother. "You did it, Jira, I'm free."
"You're stuck here for three months and owe a hundred thousand credits, Hobie." Jir said far too reasonably. "Free? More or less. I still say it's an outrage."
"Try to be more positive, Noli." Hobie looked around at his former guards. "How do I get out of here?"
"It will take a few hours to process you out but you'll be on the street before dark," Spyrin, one of the prison bulls, said.
"Well, that's good," Hobie observed. "Where're you off to, Jir?"
"My office is having a little victory party..."
"What if you'd lost?"
"Then we'd be having an appeal strategy party," Jir said dryly. "So I'll go there and be worshipped along with Storen and Smig. The whole firm did an incredible job on this case for you, Hobie, I hope you know that."
"I do, Jir, I do and if I could thank them all I would."
"Well, thank the ones you see at the party tonight. Most of the firm's been invited."
"Oh, yes. The party. Must I go? I'd rather spend the evening with you Nolis, the children, the Sas, the Commune, my crews, the ..."
"You must go," Jir told him. "This party is in honor of your liberation. Ling told me the Sas have invited hundreds and hundreds of beings to this gathering."
Hobie stopped in the middle of the hallway. "You are joking, aren't you?"
"It's what Ling told me," Jir said, heading for the attorney exit. "Come along and find out." And he was gone.
* * *
"Was that odd or am I just very tired?" Lapham asked Charbon and Sarfati in the lift.
"It was odd," Charbon assured him.
"Very odd," Sarfati concurred.
"I think the judges were unable to convict on the evidence we presented..." Charbon began.
"Because it sucked," Sarfati clarified.
"But they didn't want Talljet to get off scot free," she continued, ignoring the lieutenant. "So they convicted on the only charges they could but slammed him as hard as they could. Their way of saying 'we can't convict you of any of it but we think you are guilty of most of it.' That outrageous sentence for parking violations almost makes it a draw. Why else do you think Jir hit the ceiling?"
"Hardly a draw, Lise," Lapham said. "If we'd gotten a conviction, Talljet would have been transported for life."
"All right then," Charbon conceded. "That outrageous sentence for parking violations almost makes me feel better about losing."
"I'm with you on that," Sarfati said.
"Yes, me too," Lapham said. "Are you going to this party tonight?"
"Of course," Charbon said. "It would be churlish not to."
"I hope it's not going to be one of those deadly boring Vulcan receptions," Lapham said.
"Likely not," Charbon said. "Lots of Star Fleeters, the Gozshedrefreingin Commune, the Klingon Embassy, Jira Krinat's company and many of Hobie's buccaneers are invited as well as the creme de la creme of Vulcan society. Dull, I think it will not be."
"How do you know all this, Lise?"
"Admrial Jessup told me. He got it directly from Master Ghet, over lunch, with Sarek."
"Now, there's a lunch I'm sorry I missed," Lapham murmured.
"Well, don't despair, we are invited to dine with the judges tomorrow night," Sarfati reminded them. "Jir, Storen and Smig are also invited. I imagine we all have things to say to each other, off the record."
"I know I do," Lapham said, stepping out of the lift. "Is this a Vulcan tradition, for the judges to invite the attorneys after a tough case?"
"I think not," Charbon said. "But I think these judges might want to talk about the trial, off the record, as well."
"Perhaps," Lapham said. "See you tonight then?"
"See you tonight."
* * *
Jir arrived at his office and found the party already in full swing.
"Sobora," he drew his assistant aside, eyeing the crowd. "Who are all these people? I don't remember the firm being this big."
"Most are our attorneys, some are from other offices in the building, some are from the Legal Institute, some of them - I've no idea," Sobora told him. "But all are here to applaud your victory." He nodded affably and headed back to the bar.
'I rather think they're all here to cadge free drinks and snacks, more like it,' Jir thought sourly. He was tired and just wanted to acknowledge his accolades and have a nap before he went to face the Sas, who had become testy over his nonappearance at the mansion.
"SaDrosta! How ever are you?" Jir called across the room. He was delighted to see his old dance partner in the throng. SaDrosta had become a very famous dancer since Jir's departure from the Vulcan dance milieu.
"Well, Jira, well. Congratulations on Hobie's liberation. It will be delightful to have another decent lyre player in town for even three months," SaDrosta said in his well measured but rhythmic phrases. "And you, Jira, now that you've got that tarsome trial out of the way, why don't we give a recital together? I understand you dance almost as well as you used to."
"I dance better than I used to," Jir shot back.
"Perhaps," SaDrosa drawled. "How can one know? No one's seen you dance on a Vulcan stage in twenty years." He drifted off toward the bar after assuring Jir that he would see him later.
Jir spent the next hour or so milling through the crowd, accepting toasts and compliments with the restrained, well bred grace the Sas had spent his adolescence dinning into him, until he could finally reach his office unobserved. He slipped inside, locked the door and ripped off all his clothes, flung himself on his bed and fell into a profound doze. He didn't wake until Sobora brought him some tea and a sandwich and told him it was time for him to go home and dress for Hobie's party.
"Oh," Jir said vaguely, sipping his Relan tea. "Thank you." 'Home?' he thought ruefully. 'Home, whatever is that?' But he got dressed and took a taxi to the Sa mansion anyway.
* * *
"We'll miss the music, Hobie," Spyrin commented as he escorted Hobie to the prison gate.
"You've got it on the surveillance tape," Hobie said, good naturedly. "You can play it when you get lonely for me."
The bull raised his hand in the Vulcan salute. "Live long and prosper, SaHobie."
Hobie raised his split fingers. "Peace and long life, Spyrin." He stepped out of the prison and did what Hobie often did at this time of year on Vulcan: He shied away from T'Khut looming over him. 'You'd think I could get used to that fucking flying rock,' he thought grimly, wondering that she could still startle him so. 'I'm back, baby, d'ya miss me?' and he stepped into the waiting taxi that would take him to the Sa mansion.
* * *
"Bravo, Jir," Amanda said upon hearing the verdict announced.
* * *
Polmira had simply joyously thrown himself into Strig's arms.
* * *
Maja let his shoulders slump and relaxed for the first time in what seemed like weeks.
* * *
"Jir and his team must be amazing lawyers," McCoy observed to Kirk.
"Yes," Kirk mused, drawing his tongue along the doctor's collarbone before heading south. "Lapham, Charbon and Sarfati are legends in the Fleet."
* * *
"WHERE THE HELL ARE WE TO DIG UP ONE HUNDRED THOUSAND CREDITS?" Ling howled at Stez and flung herself into that long suffering Vulcan's arms.
"I believe we might sell one of Hobie's ships to raise the money," Stez comforted.
"Oh, what good thinking, Stez." Ling perked up. "My life would be an acid bath without you."
Stez merely arched an eyebrow and made no rejoinder to Ling's outrageous statement, as usual.
* * *
Hobie Talljet was possessed of a certain bad boy charm and a lanky stride that caused the Klingons, among others, to award him their highest praise: He could make the dead cum.
These graces, however, were completely lost on Svurek as Hobie, finding the garden door locked and a note on it directing him to use the front door, stood before him, trying to gain admittance to his former residence.
"So," Svurek snarled at his favorite Talljet. "You're out."
"Yes." Hobie agreed blandly, wondering what the hell was going on. He was fond of Svurek but was clueless as to why the old Vulcan was blocking the door.
"And you're back."
"Yes."
"And you want to come in here."
"Yes."
Svurek took a long breath through his nose and centered his energy. "You have behaved disgracefully in and out of this house, SaHobie. You were given every opportunity to make a success of yourself and you tossed it aside to pursue your own pleasure. You wasted your youth and beauty on that wretch Sarek, you flung yourself away in the hinterspace, you consorted with scoundrels, scalawags and persons of no character and now you've come back and want admittance." Svurek paused dramatically. "All of the above can, in time, be forgiven, but, SaHobie, I don't know if this ancient house can overlook your most heinous crime, the worst that you've become."
"What?" Hobie asked with some anxiety, wondering if he'd become something new on the way here from the prison.
"A convicted," Svurek paused to let that sink in, "Parking Violator."
"Ummmm," Hobie murmured after a moment of contrite silence, eyes lowered. "Yes. Very bad. I'm sorry." He looked up with his most Vulcan-melting look. "Can I come in now? Please?"
"Enter," Svurek intoned and stood aside.
"Ah, listen, Svurek." Hobie leaned down to the Vulcan's ear. "Can you pay the taxi? I, ah, don't have any money."
"Chiseler," he droned but went out and paid the driver anyway.
* * *
Hobie found his brothers and sister upstairs in their old playroom (Maja's former and current studio), having a serious discussion about whether they were going to attend the party or not.
"How'd it go with Svurek?" Jir asked him.
"All my flaws were neatly laid out for my inspection," Hobie said. "I apologized for being all he said and he let me in. How'd you get in?"
"He called me a slut, a shyster and a disgrace to the Sa name ...."
There was a quick chorus of 'me too' for that last insult.
"I erred, however," Jir continued. "I told him it was not possible to disgrace the Sa name anymore."
"Jir!" Maja was scandalized.
"Listen, Noli, I just won the trial of the century and I'm still in high legal mode. D'you think I'm going to be abused by that door minding fossil." He watched them all nod yes. "Okay, so I caved in like rotten fruit and apologized for being everything he said I was and insulted, chastened and contrite I was allowed to enter these hallowed portals or whatever. Hochofedra." He shrugged and flung himself into a chair.
"What, like, is the deal with Svurek?" Hobie asked Maja and Ling.
"It's a very old Sa custom," Ling said. "One must really want to come in here to endure Svurek, and his father before him and his father before him and his father before him, and..."
"It's incredible anyone would want to come in here at all," Jir observed.
"Well, Nolos, it's just one of those very old and very weird Sa customs from a time when it was not safe to allow any but a sworn ally into their home, near their women and children," Maja told them.
"Considering what brilliant seducers Sarek and son turned out to be," Jir observed, "perhaps it's not a bad custom after all."
"That reminds me, Jir," Ling said suddenly. "Speaking of old weird customs. The Sas say they sequester their women and that now includes me. I think I need a lawyer."
"I think you just need to ignore them," Jir counseled her. "Have you been living here since you arrived?"
"No, Stez and I are in our townhouse on the Strand."
"Well, stay there, little sister," Jir laughed. "If the Sas lock you up, I promise, we'll come rescue you."
"I'll hold you to that, Nolo." Ling snuggled up next to him.
They listened to the commotion in the house for a while. The band was setting up, the caterers were working in the huge kitchens, the hired footmen were arranging the tables and chairs for the sit down dinner, the children were running amok, trying to get a look at the proceedings before they were hustled off to bed.
"Why not attend, Maja?" Hobie asked. "It's going to be the party of the century."
"Because it's supposed to be for you and it turns out not to be," Maja explained. "The Sas are using your 'liberation' to slap everybody's face. It's the first time the house has been in working order in over a hundred years and they want to flaunt their wealth..."
"What's left of it," Ling interjected.
"Hochofedra, Ling," Maja shrugged. "And flaunt us as well. I will not be put on display."
Jir, who lived to be put on display, could not let this pass. "How silly you are, Maja. Hobie's liberation is a great event and this party will mark it as such. I'm inclined not to attend for different reasons."
"Which are less silly than mine?" Maja snarled.
"Of course," Jir drawled. "I haven't anything to wear."
"What! You have plenty of clothes."
"I didn't have time to have anything 'new' made."
"Oh, really." Maja rolled his eyes.
"Well, I've got the same problem, Maja," Hobie said. "You'll notice I'm still wearing my prison romper."
"I'm sure we can find you something, Hobie," Ling said. "My problem with this party is that it's a waste of money and we need money, badly. I would have a hard time, eating, drinking and being merry down there knowing what hell will break loose when the bills come in."
"We financed it with the art sale," Maja reminded her.
"And now you don't want to go?" Jir asked. "Maja, your Commune paid for this romp, you might as well enjoy it."
"I'll think about it," Maja sulked. "I will, however, never believe SaCriz's stated motive for this party."
"Which is?" Hobie asked, he liked SaCriz a lot.
"That it is to mend any negativity your trial has engendered among Vulcans," Maja said.
"That is thin," Jir cooed. "The most absolute way to engender negativity among Vulcans is to put them in the same room together."
"With a dance band, yet," Ling observed. "This party could start the War of Logical Aggression, Part II."
"Lord, that might be reason enough to attend," Hobie laughed with his brothers and sister.
Maja looked at the falling light and knew time grew short. "Look, y'all, let's go round up the children and get them settled before too many Vulcans get past Svurek."
"That fossil will be mute from insulting so many Vulcans in one evening," Jir observed.
"He'll love it," Ling put in.
"As I was saying," Maja said pointedly to Jir and Hobie. "Your children have not seen you in many, many weeks, if not months. Let's go, Talljets." And it was a very happy reunion indeed for the JetCheqs and their fathers, uncles and aunt. At least it was once Jir's children got over the shock of their parent's shaved head.
* * *
"Where are they?" SiJidi, referring to the Talljets, asked SaCriz.
"Sulking in their playroom."
"That's not unusual," Sriri observed. "They sulked there quite a lot when they were younger."
"What is unusual in this case," Spaga said, "is that we've invited hundreds to a party in SaHobie's honor and they are sulking in their playroom." Spaga could not be more accurate on the guest count because they had long ago lost track of whom they'd asked.
They all looked over at SaBrzia, who was seated listening serenely to the throngs of Vulcans, Klingons and Star Fleeters milling about in the restored Sa ballroom.
SiJidi moved to the old man's side. "What should we do, SaBrzia? The Talljets won't come down for the party."
"Then we'll have the party in honor of their absence," SaBrzia said serenely. "STRAT!" he bellowed, knowing that a) Strat was somewhere in the room and b) that he was a musician and therefore could talk to other musicians.
Strat bounded to the old Vulcan's side, as he had when he was sixteen. "Yes, sir?"
"Go tell these musicians to start playing."
"Yes, sir." Strat hoped he could - they were Jir's musicians from his company. He found McCoy there, talking to the lanky humanoid lyre player Jir had picked up in the cafe on Bharselis.
"Oh, yeah," the musician drawled to the doctor. "That was one wii-iild night. Very very that Jira gave me and the band a job after the cafe burned to the ground."
"Excuse me," Strat said. "The hosts have asked me to ask you to start playing."
"We need Jira to start us," the humanoid said coolly.
Strat came as close as Vulcans ever get to despair.
"You know," McCoy said pleasantly. "If you did start and Jir didn't like it, you can say I asked you to start."
"Are you asking us to start, Terran?"
"Well, yes; I am. I very much enjoyed your playing on Bharselis. I'm quite looking forward to hearing it again."
"Well, all right, then!" The lyre player sat back with the band. "Let's go, lads." Sharply accented but lyrical music jerked across the ballroom floor.
McCoy nodded graciously in response to Strat's grateful look and went off to look over the crowd.
~
"SPOCK!"
That Vulcan moved swiftly from his mother's side to SaGolia's. You went, and quickly, when SaGolia called you or she would call you until everybody within earshot was deaf.
"This is an Imman, Spock, is it not?" SaGolia asked with emphasis.
"Yes, ma'am." Spock held out his curved hands, palms down.
SaGolia snapped her fan shut and placed her curved hands beneath his, palms up. They moved off, gracefully, onto the floor. Others followed their example.
~
"What's that music?" Maja, slumped in a chair, asked.
"Dunno," Hobie said. "Sounds like a very fucked up Imman."
"It's my band," Jir told them, annoyed that his band had started without him. "Playing a very hep scat Imman. Very hip, very moderne."
They listened for a moment longer.
"Not all things improve with changing, Jir," Ling observed mildly.
~
"Where are the Talljets?" T'Paga asked Prince Sbat, who'd stepped over to say hello to his old playmate after settling Princess T'Pira next to T'Pau.
"No idea," Sbat said distractedly. "There's T'Pring."
T'Paga glanced over at her former friend and wondered if this would not be a good night to make peace with her. After all, everything seemed to be working out for the best. Somehow.
~
"There's T'Pring," Kirk said quietly to McCoy.
Seeing her, McCoy had a rush of protective feeling for Spock, who was oblivious to everything but the life and death Imman he was dancing with SaGolia.
'I wonder if that explains the lack of Talljets in the room,' Kirk mused in McCoy's silence.
~
"This fucked up Imman is growing on me," Maja, slumped against Hobie on the purple couch, said softly. The fucked up Imman reminded him of the Shaakar music he and Sarek had danced to on Imk. 'Was that only a year or so ago or was it another life?' he wondered.
"Yes, me too," Jir said, wistfully looking at Maja's mural of all their friends and wondering which ones were downstairs right now.
"Too bad you don't have anything to wear," Ling reminded him.
~
end of part 65
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