Chapter Text
(A continuation of the adventures of Doctor Chapel. Sequel to Rites of T’een Ani
The white paper before her sparked memories. Their next stop was the planet Troyius. Non-Federation aligned, but infamous for its devastating wars with the planet Elas. She remembered the fierce tempered Elaan, with eyes like blades. The tears of Elasian women could enslave a man’s heart forever. Hmm. Maybe she should ask for the secret and cry on Spock’s shoulder. Hmm.
Elaan, Dohlman of Elaas, had been sent as a bartered bride to marry the Troyian king. She didn’t seem to be underage but the disquieting sex trafficking of women by the Federation had disturbed her greatly. “Marriage” was it? Elaan had vigorously objected to being partnered with that distinctly unattractive mate. Kirk was dispatched to “tame” her after she had stabbed. Petri of Troyius. That’s right. She was to be tamed to her fate.
Chapel marveled at how nonchalantly Kirk and the Federation regarded bride trafficking women by force. OK, not force but Elaan was war booty, pure and simple. She reminded her of Tuptim and the King of Siam in the famous book. Tuptim wasn’t beheaded for running away, she and her lover were burned at the stake outside Anna’s residence by the King. Think about that.
Elaan had probably been in love with Kryton, her bodyguard, just like Tuptim. The King of Troyius had a harem system. Elaan would be one of three consorts with a prime consort above her. It was all in the White Paper. All the consorts and concubines and even female attendants the King favored were pitted in ruthless competition against one another to be the woman with the son who was the last man standing. In the old Ottoman Empire on earth, the sons vied for the crown and when the Sultan died the one victorious son had all his brothers and half-brothers strangled. This delicacy was to avoid shedding their blood.
Her computer chimed at her. Sarek sent a message asking her to dine with him in his quarters. Well, no not his quarters proper, but in the anteroom adjoing them. It would seem he wanted a discrete meeting with her about their upcoming mission. Their transport ship had sailed away, and Sarek and the Vulcans were now installed on the Barton, with Gallico as escort. She had several hours left, so she spent them going over her personal logs of those events on Enterprise all those years ago. Several details she had forgotten.
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McCoy had had to come up with a cure for Troyiusian tears.
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Elaan had seemed to accept her fate.
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The Klingons were very interested in Troyiusian dilithium.
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She wore a simple civilian outfit, nothing to speak about. Sarek had a Valet or Butler or something who greeted her solemnly and showed her into the anteroom proper. He left her to herself and she took the opportunity to examine the decor.
It was decorated in warm oranges and black. Ohhh! Halloween. Well,not that dramatic. Several things were burning in several corners that intrigued her. Her eye was caught by a white bowl. In the bowl, were floating flowers and one of the burning flames was in the middle. It was a mini shrine to the goddess T’een Ani. That was certainly interesting. Is this where Sybok had come from? Spock had said his mother was a priestess and he was born out of wedlock.. It almost certainly was his origin.
She had just begun the process of detaching herself from Spock and was in no mood to attach herself to another Vulcan. Well, who asked?, you might say. Uh,no one asked, but did Amanda just accept this as she accepted it seemed, all things Vulcan? Chapel’s acquaintance with her had been brief. The room had a wild emotional quality to it which seemed odd to her. Wouldn’t Vulcans choose something serene?
Sarek entered and broke her reverie on the decor. It was clear the meeting was to be a briefing. Why dinner then? Maybe he was hungry, and this was the only time he could squeeze in. She was getting paranoid.
He invited her to sit at the table, where it seemed only a series of small appetizers were present. She didn’t eat a lot. She never did.
He briefed her on the Troyius situation. Eight years previously Elaan had married the King of Troyius.. The King, noting her intelligence, and perhaps for political reasons with her home planet, invited her as his quasi-personal secretary. There she learned the rules and levers of power. She also mastered their language. Two years later the King died. Elaan was sent to a convent as was custom.
One year later, the King’s son Ehron, visited the temple, met Elaan. They wept together (ceremoniously) for the King and Ehron was astonished at her beauty. (Chapel wondered what use she made of those tears) . Sarek heavily implied that a source very close to the situation had sent them the tidings. Elaan provoked the new king by saying “Even though you are the Celestial one of Troyius, you can do nothing about my confinement here.” To which he replied, naturally, “I can do anything I want.”
The Queen, jealous of a rival concubine, had encouraged Elaan to stop shaving her head, and had encouraged her son’s visits. The Queen had no children, but the concubine had two. Elaan was soon invited back to the court and given the title of Second Rank concubine to Ehron, quite a step down from secondary consort.
Five more years passed. Elaan gave birth to two sons, and gained the favor of everyone with kindness and generosity but it was time to eliminate the queen and the other concubine. Elaan gave birth to a daughter, and after the queen visited the child, Elaan had strangled the baby and used it to frame the queen.
Ehron, tired of being under his mother’s thumb, played along, deposed his queen, and his mother the queen mother. Elaan was promoted to queen, immediately put to death the old queen and concubine, exiled their supporters and family and suppressed her children. Elaan was forced to take up state affairs in the name of her eldest son when the king suffered a stroke the next year.
Chapel was silent for a moment. “That is quite a story.”
Sarek’s reply was dry indeed. “That is an understatement.”
“Why are we traveling to Troyius?”
Sarek steepled his fingers. Chapel had come to recognize this as a self-protective bit of body language. He didn’t want to say too much.
“Elaan, Celestial Queen and First Empress of Troyius and Elas, you will note she has united the two governments under herself, has asked the Federation to assist them against the Klingons, who covet their dilithium”
“I thought they had a nice trade deal with the Klingons (Her favorite race, HA!) and the Federation.”
“They do. Evidently friction has begun. The Klingons want more for less, and they want the Federation “squeezed out”, I believe the phrase is.” He may have sighed. “For all her crimes, she is the only stable leader Troyius has at the moment. If she falls, it is Civil War. The Troyians do not like her methods or the rule of a woman and an alien.”
“Well, she sure reached high. She was bartered off as Princess Bride to an alien she despised, and an enemy, and it wasn’t pretty.”
“No.” Sarek did not elaborate.
“I assume that I have some job to do down there.”
Sarek seemed a bit relieved at the change of subject. He was hiding a lot. “The Empress and Queen has requested a Federation doctor, specifically a female, who can enter the harem freely. She claims she wishes to aid her ailing husband. She won’t accept a Vulcan female. She claims they read minds.”
“I see.” She got tense. “That doesn’t tell me much, and before we go on with this there is something I have to tell you.”
Sarek looked at her inquiringly.
“I’m having some medical issues looked into and I don’t have a diagnosis yet or treatment.” She sighed. “It could affect my ability to work in this capacity or my ability to be a doctor at all, at some point.” Her worst fears realized. She took a breath. “Years ago, while serving on Enterprise, I contracted a poly water virus. Much of the crew was infected as well. It released our emotional inhibitions, by attacking the limbic system rather like alcohol. Dr. McCoy found a treatment, and all seemed well, but as the years went by, I found it harder and harder to control my emotions sometimes.” She doubted Sarek would appreciate hearing about THIS. “I put it down to stress, took up Zen meditation, swore off alcohol and I got by, but lately it has gotten worse.
He said nothing, nor indicated any reaction. “I had some tests done and they were sent off to a neuro psychiatrist on Starbase 12. I don’t have the results yet. I thought you had a right to know.”
He was quiet for a moment and then said. “Would you object to having those medical results sent to our Vulcan healer? It may be that Vulcan mind techniques would do more for you than more conventional treatments.”
“I….” She hesitated. “Why, yes, if you think it is wise. I do not object.” Starfleet could easily yank her from this mission. Sarek was offering her a lifeboat.