—Chapter 2—
The Enterprise waited only briefly before being given permission to orbit Krios Prime. The entire planet knew that this was the ship which had rescued the Princess Kaitaama from slavery, and so the ship and the crew were honored guests. The captain decided to give the entire crew leave, on a rotating basis, in order that they might enjoy Krios Prime, while the captain and his officers were invited to the Royal Palace in order to attend the coronation ceremony. Once there, they were ushered to the presence of the High Council, where they were officially thanked for the rescue of Kaitaama, offered accommodations at the palace for the duration of their stay on Krios Prime, and prime seating for that evening's ceremony.
When the evening came around and the ceremony commenced, it was everything such things were meant to be: impressive, ostentatious, elaborate and long lasting. The selected members of the Enterprises' crew had front row seats to the coronation, and when it was finally over, and the crown of the First Monarch of Krios Prime gently settled on Kaitaama's lovely head, the entire chamber, filled to capacity by thousands of Krios Prime's elite, broke out in applause. Eventually, after an hour or so during which the First Monarch circulated through the room in her regalia, thanking the attendees for their presence on this occasion, Kaitaama left the room, in order to change into something a bit more comfortable. The party would go on all night, all over Krios Prime, and the First Monarch would have to pace herself.
"Hell of a show," said Trip, looking at his fellow shipmates.
"I'd kill for that crown!," said Hoshi. "Those diamonds would keep me set for life."
"Perhaps I'll steal it, Ensign," said Malcolm with a smile, "and dole diamonds out to you, in return for, ah, favors and companionship."
"Deal," said Hoshi. "No take backs!"
"No, no. No deal," said Archer. "We're not stealing the crown jewels, and we're not making any deals that skirt perilously close to prostitution."
"Oh," said Hoshi, "there's no skirting involved here, sir. We're talking outright prostitution."
"Yes, sir," said a chastened Malcolm, hanging his head, then whispered to Hoshi, "we'll talk later about the crown."
Hoshi nodded solemnly, and Archer scoffed, then turned his attention to one of the hundreds of servants mingling with the crowd, offering the Kriosian version of champagne. In due time one of the servers made their way to Archer, a dozen glasses still on his tray.
"Travis," said Archer, speaking to the Ensign next to him. "Help me out with this."
"Yes, sir," said Travis, and the two efficiently passed fluted glasses to the rest of the crew.
"So, T'Pol," said Trip, looking at the Vulcan, "did you enjoy the show?"
"I find pomp and circumstance tedious," said T'Pol, "but it is well that we attended. It will aid StarFleet's negotiations in the future."
Just then, a Kriosian approached the humans, and said, "The First Monarch invites you to share a meal with her."
Archer nodded his agreement and indicated that the man should lead the way, and shortly afterwards the crew found themselves in what looked like a private dining room, seated round an oval table in wide, plush, tanned leather chairs, each meant for two occupants each. The chairs were really more like mini-sofas, so that sitting thus was almost like sitting in a booth, though easier to get in and out of.
"Oh, these chairs are nice," said Trip.
"Yeah," said Archer, for he appreciated the comfort of his chair.
"I'll have to build a couple of these chairs for the Captain's Mess. One of these chairs would make a fine throne for you, Captain, and T'Pol and I would be as snug as peas in a pod sharing the other. We're always playing footsies under the table anyway, but in this type of chair we can hold hands, as well," said Trip, with a grin on his face, for he was looking for payback for the other night's argument. "What do you say to that, SubCommander?"
Hoshi snickered and looked at T'Pol expectantly.
"I am certain that I do not care on what type of chair I sit, Commander Tucker," said T'Pol, refusing to play along with the commander's premise, though truthfully she found the idea of playing footsies and holding hands with the commander intriguing, simply for the sake of sampling Human dating habits, of course, nothing more.
"I'll take that as a yes than, T'Pol," said Trip. "To everything I said."
Just then, Kaitaama entered the room, the simple but elegant silver gown she'd changed into doing nothing but favors for her figure, and everyone stood, both in order to pay respect to the First Monarch, and in order to allow her to choose her place at the table.
"Trip,"said Kaitaama, her eyes bright with pleasure, as she approached the human with a smile. This was the first time she'd seen him since his arrival on Krios Prime. "It's so good to see you again."
"Likewise, First Monarch," said Trip.
Kaitaama noted that the man had said that politely enough, but his smile, and his glance, allowed a bit of the devil inside this man to make an appearance, and that pleased Kaitaama. He was still the scoundrel she remembered. She offered him her left hand, and Trip gently grasped Kaitaama's fingers and brought her hand up to his lips. The proper thing to do, according to Kriosian custom would have been to touch his lips to the back of her fingers. Instead, Trip slipped the tips of Kaitaama's fingers into his mouth and nibbled on them, while growling. Archer sighed, Malcolm looked askance, Hoshi snickered, Travis froze, and T'Pol frowned, while Kaitaama laughed.
"Still as charming as I remember you, Commander Tucker," said Kaitaama, then looked at the rest of the crew. "Come. Let's eat something. Trip, sit with me, please."
Moments later, Trip found himself sharing a seat with the First Monarch, wedged between two beautiful women, for T'Pol was on his left, sharing her seat with Travis, while Hoshi shared with Malcolm, and Archer sat alone, facing Kaitaama. The staff shortly laid out foods before them and they began eating, and talking, first of the magnificence of the coronation ceremony, then on to other topics, until eventually they got to dessert, and a handsome slice of chocolate cake, decorated with thin sheets of gold leaf, along with something that smelled and looked like espresso coffee.
"I know you'll recognize the chocolate from your own world," said Kaitaama. "It's one of your most popular exports here on Krios Prime."
"How did you come by it, First Monarch?" said Archer. "I didn't think it possible that any of our merchants had made it out this way."
"The Vulcans enjoy it as well," said Kaitaama, looking at the captain, "and we purchase it from them."
"I love this coffee, First Monarch," said Trip. "It's so strong, but it's smooth as well."
"Then you and that coffee have something in common, Commander Tucker," said Kaitaama, with a pleasant smile.
Travis and Hoshi laughed at that. T'Pol merely looked at the First Monarch, her face composed, though it was unseemly for a head of state to flirt so openly with Commander Tucker, as the Vulcan saw things. Trip smiled and dipped his head to acknowledge the compliment, while T'Pol frowned slightly now, and stiffened her back. She'd had enough of Krios Prime, and wished that the Enterprise would leave orbit tonight.
"It's Klingon coffee," said Travis, whose previous family life growing up in the merchant fleet had offered him more chances to sample the universe, than even the crew of the Enterprise. "I've only tasted it once before, but I remember the taste."
"The Ensign is right," said Kaitaama, with a smile for Travis. "It comes from a small settlement deep inside the Klingon Empire, around Qu'Vat, I believe. All that settlement produces is this coffee, but it is very good. The Klingons officially keep the entire crop for themselves, but smugglers bring some of it out of the Empire, for an obscene profit, of course."
"I don't suppose you could put me in touch with your smugglers, First Monarch?" said Archer.
"I'm afraid not, Captain," said Kaitaama. "These petty criminals rely on my discretion, given the penalty they face if captured by the Klingons, but I will have some transported to the Enterprise."
"That's very kind of you, First Monarch. Thank you," said Archer. "By the way, what is the penalty for smuggling coffee out of the Klingon Empire?"
"Death or a lengthy imprisonment," said Kaitaama, "is the usual punishment for serious crimes in the Klingon Empire, and smuggling is considered a serious crime."
"That seems a heavy price for coffee beans," said Archer. "In any case, gratitude for any of this coffee you can spare. It's excellent."
"Not at all. I owe my life, my freedom and my position to the brave actions of your crew," said Kaitaama.
The First Monarch had rested her hand on Commander Tucker's forearm as she'd spoken that last sentence, making it clear which members of the crew she felt most indebted to for her rescue. T'Pol noted that act, and it did not please her, for some reason. Perhaps it was that the act was a bit more personal, than proper. This woman might be the First Monarch of Krios Prime, but she had no right to touch the commander so possessively. She did not own him after all, and the man might find a more suitable mate than Kaitaama!
Was it also possible that she, T'Pol, was jealous of Kaitaama? Was it? Truly? She could not be sure, though she was honest enough with herself to admit that not long ago, when she'd distracted the Chief Engineer during their argument by biting her lower lip, she'd felt unexpectedly pleased at the thought that Commander Tucker found her attractive to distraction.
"Well," said the First Monarch, snapping T'Pol from her reverie, "I will be expected to circulate once more amongst the guests. Commander Tucker, will you accompany me? I will need your strength through the long night, and it's well known that you're my noble rescuer. Everyone wants to meet you."
"I'd be honored," said Trip, standing.
He held his arm out for Kaitaama, and the First Monarch slipped her arm in his.
"How do we look?" said Trip.
"Fantastic," said Archer, and the rest of the crew nodded sincerely.
T'Pol, for her part, felt an illogical impulse to yank on the First Monarch's elaborate hairstyle until that woman learned to keep her hands off that which was not her's to begin with!
I'm not being petty, thought T'Pol, it's just unseemly of the First Monarch to act so, so possessive, where Commander Tucker is concerned. He has not chosen a mate yet!
"Please rejoin the party," said Kaitaama to the rest of the crew, "unless you're weary. If so, let someone know. You have a suite, adjoining my own, in the palace."
"Thank you, First Monarch," said Archer, and the First Monarch, and her Human escort left the room.
