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 Four- The Marriage

Martok was tired, bone wearyingly tired. For the past six months it had been one fight after another. This time it seemed the Romulans were serious. By the time he reached Khitomer most of the action was over, or so it had seemed at first. The planet's defences, such as they were, had been overwhelmed and scans revealed only minimal lifesigns. Before he could send a team down to investigate, his tactical officer located the departing Romulan vessels and Martok gave chase. He could do nothing for the dead but by Kahless he'd make sure no Romulans returned home to crow over defeating the Empire. He caught up with the Romulan flotilla barely two parsecs from the border and filled with rage, threw all caution to the winds. The ship took heavy damage and he lost twenty crew but what a battle. His anger seemed to inspire him and all three Romulan vessels were destroyed - the last one had been the most challenging, forcing Martok's helmsman into twists and turns he hadn't known the ship was capable of, but what a moment when the last vessel exploded. He'd expected to be ordered back home to report to the Council but instead had been told to pick up replacement crew at Tauvin and get his ship repaired at the same time. He'd sent a message to Krollor but hadn't received a reply and Martok was beginning to feel uneasy. But his life had been one engagement after another, no time to think of anything much but duty shifts and sleeping, when he got the chance. He'd wanted to make a name for himself and his masters certainly seemed pleased but he had no one who cared, at least no one he could claim publicly.

After a while, the border began to quieten and Martok was given orders to return home to address the High Council. Although he had been expecting the message, Martok was surprised that it came from the head of the Imperial Navy. Such high level attention meant one of two things, one of which you didn't walk away from alive. When he beamed into the Council's antechamber, Meric, head of the Imperial Navy had come to greet him together with representatives of the Imperial Marines and Intelligence. If he was in trouble at least it was high powered trouble. As they walked towards the council chamber, Martok noticed that the antechamber was unusually full and silent - a very respectful silence at that. Once inside the chamber, it seemed to Martok as though the entire High Council was in attendance. Meric led him to the centre circle where all those ordered to appear before the council were instructed to stand and left him. K'mpec rose from the dais. He seemed to have aged since Empire Day but Martok's gaze became fixed on the large medal K'mpec was holding in his hand. Martok realised it was the insignia of the order of the bat'leh and from then on hardly heard a word K'mpec said. He had made it, a hero of the Empire, respectable at last, there was nothing and no one to whom he could not now aspire.

When he came back to his senses, Martok realised that Krollor was not on hand to witness the proceedings. He'd known that Ja'Rod had been killed as orders sent to his ship had contained the full casualty list from Khitomer and he had heard rumours that Duras's wedding had been cancelled, but Martok could hardly contain himself. He had to talk to Krollor now before his courage failed him. He looked round for the archivist although he knew he'd have to wait until the official banquet was over. Meric had explained that as he was the only officer to be honoured that day, K'mpec had decided to dispense with the 'test' usually given to recipients of the order of the bat'leh - an all night drinking fest. 'Besides, with his household engaged in the ritual mourning ceremony for Krollor, it just wouldn't look right.' Meric also told him that the Council had been shaken by the loss of both Krollor and Ja'Rod. 'However, he can now retire to his home and we can celebrate your triumph at my home. My wife and daughters have been preparing the feast for days. We have great plans for you my boy, great plans, come, lets discuss your future'.

He'd played his part to perfection, been polite to Meric's somewhat insipid daughters, drunk, eaten and sung all the battle songs he could think off but Martok was impatient to get to Krollor's house and comfort Sirella. By the time the banquet ended, dawn was rising over the Imperial City and Martok made his way to Krollor's house. It had a dark and deserted air. Where was she? What had happened to Sirella?

*************

Sirella checked into the only hotel in the small town. The only facility it had that she was interested in was an abundant supply of hot water. She washed herself thoroughly, scrubbing at her skin till it was almost raw. Then she gave her clothes the same thorough clean. While they were drying she went back in the shower and repeatedly shampooed her hair and lathered soap over her body. She felt she'd never be clean again. Eventually the clothes dried and as they were the only ones she had, she put them on and went to look for something to eat. She saw a warrior at the reception desk. He turned and saw her. The next minute they were in each other's arms. 'Sirella' he said, 'You don't know how long I've been looking for you. I'd nearly given up hope of finding you. Where have you been? I am now able to marry you. I'm suddenly socially acceptable. Even your family wouldn't deny me.'

She looked at the desk clerk who was taking a great interest in this meeting. 'Let us walk outside and I'll tell you everything.' she said.

They walked through the undistinguished streets of the town just delighting in being together till they reached a sort of open plaza. They found seats in a quiet corner and began to compare notes.

'I'd heard from your father that you were to marry Duras, yet you did not. Why?' he began.

'He dropped that idea as soon as his father died.' said Sirella.

'Were you pleased?'

'You can't imagine I wanted to marry him.' Sirella flared. 'I had no choice in the matter. You were the one I wanted. I thought you knew that.'

He soothed her and persuaded her to continue her story. 'The trouble was that I was staying with my aunt at the time and she'd guessed that I was pregnant. She said she'd get K'mpec to order Duras to marry me. I begged her not to, and she then realised that Duras was not the father.'

Martok desperately wanted to attack her with endless questions but realised he'd probably learn more by just listening for the moment.

'I wouldn't tell her who the father was, so she got K'mpec to question me. I couldn't tell him. You had only just been made a Captain and with your background there would have been many who would be glad to see you executed for having an affair with a lady. He had his men use an Agoniser on me to get me to tell, but I wouldn't. He was so angry. No-one defies the Chancellor, especially not someone like me. I was locked in a room while he decided my fate. I was so frightened. I wondered if it would be the slit throat of an honour killing or the ritual disembowelment of an execution. I was sure I would die. All I can think is that my aunt must have put in a word for me. Anyway, my punishment was to be sent to a small farm here till the baby was born. It would then be taken from me and given to a farmer to rear and I once I had sufficiently recovered, I could return.'

'You defied the Chancellor to protect me?' Martok was stunned.

She nodded, and looking at the ground continued 'It has been horrible. The family I was sent to knew I was in disgrace so had no reason to treat me well. I was out all day looking after the animals and at night I had to sleep in the shed with them. It go so cold some nights that I had to snuggle up to them for warmth enough to survive. I stank of targ. I'm sure I still stink of targ.'

Martok was still trying to take everything in. 'The baby?' he asked. 'My baby?' Sirella was clearly not pregnant now so it must have been born.

'I had him last week. They took him from me almost as soon as he was born. I'm told they are calling him Drex. I've been recovering up in the mountains and now I am on my way home.'

'Him. A son. They can't take my son.' Martok raged. 'Who has him? I'll get him back.'

'K'mpec decreed it should be this way. If he is defied further in this matter there will be no mercy for either of us.'

'But I can't lose my son.'

'Don't you think I've wracked my brains to try and find some way we can keep him?' she said. 'The only thing I can think of is that when he reaches his Age of Ascension, you have the right to claim him as his true father.'

'But that is seven years away!'

'So he could have a few brothers and sisters to welcome him when he joins our household.' said Sirella.

Martok's scowl turned into a grin. 'I'd like that' he said. He had another thought about Sirella's tale. 'How did you know about my background? I'm sure I told you nothing.'

'I had it from B'Etor' she replied. The name meant nothing to Martok so she explained that B'Etor was Duras's youngest sister. She told him that it had been Duras who had tried to have him killed, just because his sister Lursa had taken a fancy to him. 'But what I don't know is how much of what I have been told is the truth. Suppose you tell me about yourself, now that we have found each other again.'

'As we are to be married, you do indeed need to know the truth. What were you told?'

'You are the son of a herdsman who became a scum worker and somehow got a field commission.'

'Not entirely true. My father was a marine. Our family have been marines for generations. Foot soldiers, never officers. My father was a good soldier. He lost an arm defending a general and had to retire. He got a job as a herdsman. It is honest work.' Martok could hear himself getting angrily defensive, though there was nothing dishonourable in his tale.

Sirella put an arm round him. 'One thing I have learned in the past few months is that one can have pride in doing the humblest task. It is what kept me going.'

He nodded. 'My father had an impossible dream, though. All his sons were following him into the Marine Corps but he wanted to have an officer in the family. I was the youngest and the brightest and he decided it should be me. He raised money from other family members , then spoke with the general whose life he had saved. That, plus the money persuaded the general to sponsor me at Star Academy. I worked so hard there to try and fit in. I lost my accent, learned the ways of the upper classes, always worked that bit harder than my fellow students. I had top grades in the final exams. I knew I'd need them. As you probably know, while you are a student you are just a number. Identity doesn't matter. All that changes when you pass your finals and are allocated a ship for your first cadet voyage. The sons of admirals and generals will get their pick of the ships. I knew I could not expect a plum assignment, whatever my grades. I did hope I'd get a post in some kind of fighting ship. I scanned the lists but couldn't find my name on an assignment on any fighting ship. I looked up the assignments to transport and support ships. My name wasn't there either. There had to be some mistake. I went to the office where they told me that the great warrior Kor had been in charge of cadet assignments. He had decided that someone of my background had no right to be an officer so he had graded me unfit for military service. I didn't know how to tell my father. It was the end of all his dreams. The thing was, they had become my dreams too. With the grading I'd been given I couldn't even join the marines like my brothers. I so wanted to go into space and serve the Empire. So I did the only other thing left to me and signed up as a civilian worker doing the tasks on board ship that are too dirty and dangerous for trained warriors.'

'Scum crew.' Sirella muttered.

'Scum many of them are too.' he agreed. 'It was not the kind of cadet training I had imagined, but it has stood me in good stead since. There is no place on a ship, no short-cuts or sloppiness that I don't know about. However, fortune was on my side. The ship I served was involved in a battle with Orian pirates. Perhaps they were lucky, but they managed to board us and there was intense hand-to-hand fighting which involved all of us, civilians and military. We finally won but the casualties were very high. There were barely enough left to get the ship home. There was no navigator, so I volunteered. Well, to cut a long story short, I sufficiently impressed the Captain that he gave me a field commission and when we made it back, the rank was ratified. I was so happy. I sent a message home telling my father to celebrate, but it was too late. He had died while I was away. I've dedicated every victory since to his memory.'

He fell silent. Sirella's arm tightened round him. 'I am proud to be marrying a man who can overcome such odds.' she said. 'I wish my father had been here to hear your story. He might have seen how wrong he was in thinking one's ancestry is all that matters. And tonight you can tell me more about the battle on the ship and about the battles you have fought since.'

'And tomorrow we'll tell the Head of your House that we wish to marry.' he said.

******************

A day later they were on their way to Ketha province. It was the annual celebration of the harvest, something Sirella had never witnessed. Martok told her it she would have a wonderful time and it would give them chance to meet up with his family and make the final wedding arrangements. Although he had created his own House so it was strictly not necessary, he wanted the blessing of his mother and brothers. Indeed, he hoped for a full traditional wedding. There was just time before he had to report back for his next mission.

It was Sirella's first experience of a farming province. She had lived most of her life in great houses in the city or in the grand hunting estates of the aristocracy. They were to stay at the house of Martok's oldest brother. From the look of the homes they passed, she was not looking forward to it, but she told herself anything had to be an improvement on a targ shed.

The house was quite small but warm and welcoming. Martok's brother greeted them at the door, enveloping Sirella in a bear hug. She was not used to behaviour like this and had no idea how to respond. At her home, had any man dared to manhandle her in this way, she'd have expected the other males to attack him, but Martok just stood by and beamed. Taking her cue from him, she refrained from drawing her knife. The brothers then clasped each other's shoulders and butted heads with a violence that had them both staggering. 'It is good to see you again, little brother' said their host. 'Welcome to my house. Come in and meet my wife.' It was soon obvious why she had not come to the door with her husband. She put a contentedly fed baby into a crib then crossed the room to greet them, adjusting the front of her dress as she came. The room seemed to be filled with children of varying ages, all staring curiously at the strangers in their midst. Sirella counted at least nine.

More of Martok's brothers arrived, with their families. Fortunately they were eating outside or there would never have been room. Everyone was curious about Sirella and asked endless questions. She was poked and prodded and comments were made on her appearance. Martok didn't seem to find any of this offensive so Sirella just sat and fumed. She had never been treated like this in her life, and once they were alone in their bedroom, she intended telling him exactly how she felt. That was a further surprise. As night fell, the visitors left and Sirella was shown where she was to sleep. She had expected that she and Martok would be together, but she was put in a room with the daughters of the house. Martok knew the day had been a trial for her and had been secretly very amused as he saw her becoming angrier and more imperious. She hadn't realised that the haughtier she became, the ruder the comments she received. He knew if they had been given a room together, she would have given him hell. So he just shrugged helplessly at her as she was marched off to her sleeping quarters. Then he settled down to some serious all-night drinking with his brother.

The next day was the harvest celebration. There was feasting, singing and fighting, though done in much cruder fashion than Sirella was used to. Martok joined his brothers in a bat'leth contest. He didn't win, but the cut he received was fairly minor and he was included in the family victory celebration when one of his brothers was declared champion. Eventually he broke away and found Sirella and they walked off to be alone together. Their departure was noticed and they left to loud ribald comments and graphic descriptions of sexual behaviour.

Finally they really were on their own and away from the revels. Sirella prepared to explode but Martok silenced her with a passionate kiss. 'I know this is very different for you, but now you know some of the changes I've had to make.' he said. It was a new way of looking at things for her. She was still determined to pay him back in some way, but revenge was a dish best served cold, and she had other things on her mind. 'We wouldn't want to disappoint all your people, would we?' she asked, making it clear that she wanted more than kisses.

'That would never do.' he agreed.

**************

As they returned to the house, Sirella's mood was considerably better; perhaps she'd been unfair to Martok's family. They were clearly very proud of him and they were a hardworking group. Perhaps she should give them another chance. When they got back to the house Martok's usually raucous family were strangely well-behaved. At last, Sirella thought. They realise they've gone too far and are finally ready to show me the proper degree of respect, but before she could say anything, a tall and imposing woman rose from a bench by the fire. The look in her eyes spoke volumes. Whomever she was, she clearly regarded Sirella as a piece of garbage. Entering the room from behind her, Martok let out a loud roar and pushing past her, embraced the woman with a lingering bear hug. Sirella picked herself up from the floor and glared at the embracing couple. Before she could say anything, Martok turned around and introduced her to his mother, Sontara. As an introduction to one's prospective mother in law, the evening did not go well. The rest of the family quickly realised that the two women had loathed each other at first sight. Martok's eldest brother Maxin went out of his way to be nice to Sirella for the rest of the evening.

Sirella sat sipping her blood wine. Maxin came over to refill her cup. 'Mother, is well, fond of Martok. He's her baby you see, and she's always had her own views on the sort of girl he should marry. Someone, well, someone........' expressing himself clearly was obviously not Maxin's forte.

'Someone completely unlike me you mean' said Sirella getting angrier by the minute. Sontara had virtually ignored her all evening as she outlined the pre-marriage rituals that she and Sirella would begin the following day. They sounded truly barbaric; candle making, something about buckets - what did Sontara think she was, a beast of burden? Maxin was flustered; he didn't know what to say. Whatever he said, he'd offend one of the two women and his mother threw a good punch. Sirella too was no lightweight. 'Well, there's this girl, the daughter of a neighbour, she's well, umm, umm, robust, very good at targ herding and cooking. Mother's always thought, well, you know, that she and Martok, would well, make a good couple but well, you're much, well, finer and he'll need that in Society won't he?' The look in Sirella's eyes told him he'd told her far too much and he beat a hasty retreat. He knew Martok loved Sirella and he had to hope that this disdainful aristocrat loved his brother - even if she did look far too scrawny to keep his brother warm at night. He didn't envy Sirella the next few days - still, he'd better go and eat. He had to build up his reserves. Travelling the River of Blood with Martok and the others would be enormous fun but there wouldn't be any food and his mother did make excellent targ stew.

The next morning, the house was almost deserted when Sirella came downstairs. Sontara was standing by the fire with her hands on both hips. Bubbling away on the hearth was an enormous cooking pot which was giving off an uncomfortably familiar odour. 'You're late. I started the boiling for you at my home so the targ shoulders should soon be ready for you. I'm away to visit my neighbour but will be back in three hours. Make sure you've started molding the fat into tallow by the time I get back or I will cancel the wedding.' For the first time in years Sirella was speechless. Martok must have been serious when he said he'd wanted a traditional wedding. The family clearly expected her to make Var'hama candles - candles!

The next three days brought back unpleasant memories of the farm she'd been imprisoned at. She hated targs, the smell and feel of targ tallow, and she was rapidly developing a similar dislike of her mother in law to be. She had to admit that pounding the targ tallow had been rather therapeutic. It was either pound the tallow or pound Martok and right now Martok was losing.

Martok was having the time of his life; he was almost lightheaded with pleasure - of course that could be the lack of food. They'd reach the vision quest stage and he was hanging suspended over a fire pit dug by his brothers. He couldn't recall when he'd been so hot but happy. He just knew Sirella and his mother would love one another - how could they not? As he drifted in and out of consciousness, he could just make out what looked like Maxin striding back and forward across the cavern floor. 'You look worried, Maxin. Don't worry, you're next' Maxin had debated long and hard before interrupting the session, however.

Things had been going from bad to worse in the house. Sirella had finally finished the candles and even Maxin had to admit they were good, but his wife had run to get him when Sirella had thrown one of the braziers at his mother. She'd stormed off and was packing her belongs having announced she was returning to the Capital. He loved his mother but even Maxin had to admit that she'd pushed Sirella too far. The recitation of the history of the women in their family had not gone well. Sirella had made it clear that she was not exactly impressed with the history of generations of countrywomen and his mother had grown steadily more critical. Finally, they'd moved onto to the braziers but after four hours, Sirella had had enough and after telling Sontara exactly what she thought of her and the rest of the family, Sirella had flung one of the braziers at her mother in law. Fortunately, they'd been able to put the fire out but the two women were now at daggers drawn. Flinging water over his brother, Maxin blurted out the events of the past few days and although a little groggy, Martok knew he'd have to act fast to salvage the situation. 'Lock Sirella in, I have to talk to mother'

His mother was cooking blood pie, his favourite and by the looks of the pie dish it was to be a large pie. Martok's mouth was watering, He couldn't recall ever having been so hungry. Turning from the stove, Sontara beamed at her favourite son. He'd been so little when born she'd thought they'd lose him, but he'd clung ferociously to life and she'd always indulged him. However, Sirella was simply the worst choice he could have made. She didn't fit into the family and never would. She'd hardly said a word to her on the first night and made it clear she regarded Sontara as a peasant not fit to lick her boots. Inexa, her neighbour's daughter would have been a much more suitable choice; why couldn't Martok see that? All that time in the city with those high born aristocrats had blinded him to what he needed. 'My son, come, sit, I'm making your favourite and now that the wedding if off, you can eat your fill'

Martok knew he'd never be a diplomat but for once in his life, he knew that he had tread carefully. If he got this wrong, he'd lose the woman he loved or lose his mother's love. Closing the door to the kitchen, he told Maxin to take the others upstairs and make sure Sirella didn't leave until he could talk to her. Taking his mother by the hand, he sat her down next to the fire and began to tell her about Sirella. His mother was a strong woman but as he talked, she became increasingly upset and when he told her about what K'mpec had done to Sirella and how she'd been forced to hand Drex over, his mother began to cry. Flinging the pie dish against a wall, Sontara declared that she'd kill K'mpec, Linkara and all the rest of the scum who'd taken her grandson from her. Pushing her son aside, Sontara rushed up the stairs and forced Maxin to unlock the door to Sirella's room.

He never did find out what the two women had said to one another; neither of them would tell him anything. He was to try several times over the next twenty years but each time Sirella threw him out of the marital bed and wouldn't let him back in until his mother told her to - which was usually at least three weeks later. As for his mother, well, she'd retaliate by telling baby stories about him at family gatherings. He really hated that.

The two women emerged from the room, arm in arm. 'Come my son, Sirella tells me you must leave to rejoin the fleet. So I will bless you both now and you may return to your new home. I'll visit soon - Sirella wants to learn how to make my blood pie.'

After the blessing, the whole family gathered outside to bid them farewell. Sirella waved and embraced her new mother in law but she was still angry with Martok. She'd have to think of a way to punish him for putting her through the ordeal even if Sontara did now regard her as a true heroine, Sirella didn't let grudges go easily.

Once they were back in the capital the wedding visits from friends and family started in earnest. Her eldest brother, Kranor was first. He'd opposed K'mpec's treatment of his sister but had been powerless to prevent it. He wanted to give the happy couple a suitable gift, one which would show the entire family that he approved of Martok, and he'd come up with the perfect choice. Sirella had made a good start to furnishing the house and Kranor had to admit that it was an impressive town house with extensive grounds. However, it lacked a sense of history, of tradition, but his gift would rectify that.

'Martok, you are one of us now and my father had talked of your love for history and learning, so I'm giving you his collection of historical texts and battle records - he told me you liked to re-enact crucial moments, so I've instructed my staff to bring the model warriors too. They'll bring everything over tomorrow, together with Sirella's clothes and belongings. She has an impressive collection of antiques for her dowry you know'. The look on Sirella's face rang warning bells in Martok's head. She hated those model warriors; she called them toys, and he certainly didn't want his house filled with dusty historical texts. However, he knew the gift signified acceptance and Sirella deserved to be welcomed back into Society. He would be gone for long periods of time and he didn't want her to be condemned to isolation. Thanking his brother in law, he suggested they join the other guests in the main hall - his mother had sent them back with enough food to feed an army and they were using it all to feed the visitors. As Kranor moved to join his sister, Martok saw K'mpec crossing the room to talk to him. Sirella seeing this began to walk towards her husband. She could read him well and knew what was in his mind. It was sheer folly but she realised that he could barely restrain himself. Martok could feel the blood lust rising in him. He should kill K'mpec for what he'd done to Sirella and his son. Before he could say anything, K'mpec called all those assembled to attention.

'My friends, we are all here to celebrate the marriage of two fine young people. A true hero of the Empire and the only daughter of one of our most ancient and respectable houses. I call upon all of you to toast the bridal couple. - To the future. Let the past be where it belongs, in the past' As his friends and family roared their approval, Martok's gaze met K'mpec's. In that instant, Martok came to his senses. He knew what K'mpec was truly saying; it's our secret and it will stay that way.

After they'd left, Martok brooded. He knew he'd have to accept what K'mpec and the others had done - for now. One day, he vowed, he'd be in a position to repay all his false friends for their actions. Their hypocrisy made him sick It was so unKlingon. What was the Empire coming to? Just then, he heard Sirella call him from the upstairs balcony. Grinning to himself, he reached for the volume of poetry his mother had given him, apparently it had been her favourite.........

***********

What a day. He really hated to leave Sirella but he had to report to the Admiralty to formally receive his new orders and Sirella had made it clear that she didn't want him around when her belongings arrived. As they crossed the main hall to receive Kranor's servants, his favourite targ came to greet him. Bending to scratch the targ's ears, Martok thought life was as close to perfect as it could get, for now. He failed to see the gleam in Sirella's eyes as she opened the door for him and began to supervise the unloading of her belongings. 'Here, boy' she called the targ 'See what I've got for you........'

***********
THE END
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