Star Tracking. Part 7

[dimity_blue]

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

When Dashing had decided to leave the Irena, he'd done so on the spur of the moment. That fine instinct that had kept him single was warning him to stay on the move. He'd planned to leave the Garla Homeworld almost immediately, but once again, his uniform had provided him with a place to stay.

Harliac Mogek had spent a great deal of his life travelling around the galaxy before retiring to his home planet in peace and prosperity. During his travels he had met many Stellarfleet officers, and had travelled on many of their ships. All the officers he had met had lived up to his standards of honour and decency even in the worst of situations. He had been proud to stand by their side and stare death (or an irate shipowner) in the face. When he had run into Dashing at the spaceport, he'd noticed the uniform immediately and insisted that Dashing be his guest for as long as he wished. Dashing had accepted to avoid paying any hotel bills - he didn't know how long he'd have to make his money stretch and selling Amber's shuttlecraft hadn't brought him a huge sum.

Mogek did his very best to make Dashing, or rather 'Lipton' welcome. Dashing was beginning to suspect that he had a limited imagination as the only names he could come up with were of people he'd worked with and despised heartily. He was planning on spending the evening coming up with some different names to use, but Mogek had been invited to a royal ball at the palace and he insisted that Lipton accompany him. Dashing wasn't too keen as the last royal he'd met (Madame Bak'ton by name) had almost got him down the aisle, but he couldn't think of any way to refuse.

That had been five days previously, and Dashing was now staying at the palace and was engaged to be married to the ruler's daughter. To say that he was surprised by this turn of events would be an understatement.

He'd attended the ball, flirted with a few beautiful women, and finally gone onto the balcony with the ruler's eldest daughter. She'd been polite, the moons had been full, her coppery hair had gleamed in the moonlight and Dashing had flirted a little more. As a natural turn of events, he'd kissed her. She'd nearly fainted on the spot, which surprised him quite a bit but he knew that a lot of women found him to be devastatingly attractive, and why shouldn't a young girl faint just because this exceptionally handsome man liked her? She'd then left in a hurry and ten minutes later their engagement was announced.

Dashing was furious. He'd only flirted with her, for God's sake! One kiss and she took it to be a proposal of marriage. He'd tried to see her, to explain the misunderstanding, but she was staying in her rooms and refused to see anyone. He thought that was a little bit over the top, but he knew that women are emotional and tend to over react a lot of the time.

~o0o~

"Well, what did Daddy say?" Ilara demanded of her sobbing sister (the one who was engaged to Dashing, that lucky girl!).

"He can't do anything!" Tikaren cried into her pillows, her lovely face swollen due to the fact that she'd been crying for five days solidly.

"Of course he can. There's precedents for everything in the Rules of Honour. He just has to find the right Rule!" Ilara protested.

"No! He's looked, he's had everyone looking. He told me this morning...." Her voice dissolved into yet more sobs.

"But...."

"It's no good - don't you see that? Because he kissed me I have to marry hiimm...." Her voice trailed off again and more desolate cries burst from her.

Ilara wrapped her arms around her sister and hugged her tightly. "There's got to be a way out of this...and I'll find it. I promise you, Tikaren, you won't marry him. Even if I have to kill him, you won't marry him."

Tikaren's cries softened slightly. "It's no good," she repeated. "I'm going to be married to...to...."

"To no-one!" Ilara interrupted. "The marriage can't take place for another nine days, the Rules state that, and I'll find something that we can use." She sat up straighter, pulling her sister up with her. "Now, go and wash your face. I'm going to go and read through my Scrolls. You have something to eat and then take a nap. You look dreadful!"

Tikaren tried to smile. "All right. You big bully."

~o0o~

Ilara returned to her room, chewing thoughtfully on her lower lip. She knew that her father would have searched the Scrolls thoroughly - he didn't want Tikaren to marry Lipton any more than Tikaren did - but Ilara was prepared to bend the purpose and the meaning of the Rules if she had to, something which her father would never think of. But then, their father had never had the privilege of having his knee squeezed under the table by Lipton. Something which Ilara had. Unfortunately it was before the engagement was announced, or Tikaren could have used that to contest the validity of the engagement...

Ilara leapt at the casket on her dressing table and hastily searched through it until she found the Scroll she wanted. Unwrapping it quickly, without any of the reverence due to a Scroll of Honour, she looked down the long (very long) list of Rules until she found the one she wanted.

Ignoring the archaic script and language, it basically said what she hoped it would. Now all she had to do was persuade Lipton to kiss her. She shuddered at the thought. She hadn't liked when she first saw him, and recent events had not persuaded her to alter her attitude. But this was an emergency. She steeled herself. To save Tikaren, anything was possible! She just hoped that Lipton wouldn't want to marry her once his engagement to Tikaren was dissolved.

~o0o~

The King, meanwhile, was listening to his wife who was protesting, at great length and with all the arguments her mind could provide her, at the sacrifice of her eldest daughter to a set of out-dated, out-moded foolish set of Rules that were probably made up by a man who was either drunk, unconscious or unmarried at the time.

Inian listened...and listened...and listened to his wife, his annoyance gradually changing into admiration. He'd never heard her talk like this before.

Finally, Hunaria stopped to take a breath, and looked at her husband.

"My dear, if I wasn't against this marriage before, I would be now. But the Rules state quite clearly - "

Her snort of outrage almost interrupted him but he raised one hand to silence her, and continued.

"...that this marriage must take place. I cannot disobey the Rules simply because she is my daughter...no matter how much I might wish that I can."

"But there must be some way...there must be!" Hunaria insisted.

"There is."

Hunaria stared at him. "Well why didn't you say so in the first place?" she demanded.

"Because it is not something that I can do," he answered calmly.

"Well, who?"

"My dear, if you knew the Rules of Honour as well as you should know them, you would not need to ask me that question," Inian replied, smiling.

Hunaria knew her husband well enough to realise that he would not give her the answer, not yet anyway. "Have you told whoever it is what they have to do?"

"No."

"Well why not?"

"Because I cannot do that either."

Hunaria opened her mouth, ready (once again) to explain exactly what she thought of his position, but he forestalled her.

"Silence, my love. I have faith in our younger daughter's ability to read the Scrolls and interpret the Rules accordingly."

Hunaria's mind raced. She smiled. "The Rules of Betrayal."

"I thought that she would have realised before now. However, she has been trying to comfort Tikaren."

"What if she fails?" Hunaria asked, dreading the answer.

"Ilara will not fail; she is very resourceful. Like her mother."

~o0o~

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

As soon as the Endeavour reached the Garla Homeworld the news of Dashing's (or 'Lipton''s) betrothal reached them. Doctor Lipton's face was a study when he discovered that his name was the latest one to be used by Dashing. Steadfast was quite pleased that he wasn't the only one being victimised. Judith, meanwhile, was quite indignant.

Steadfast had gone to her quarters and broken the news to her privately. He knew that her growing friendship with Madame Bak'ton might lead her to be quite vocal about Dashing's shortcomings. He was right.

"How dare he? That ratbag!"

"I don't know whether he's chosen to become engaged or not," Steadfast told her placatingly. "The Garlans live their lives by the Rules of Honour - there's a lot of Rules. If Dashing made a pass at the Princess Tikaren, it could have been interpreted as a proposal of marriage - "

"Made a pass at her? Just wait until Bak'ton hears about this!! She'll have his head on a plate!" Judith roared.

Steadfast had never seen Judith like this before, but he was determined that she was not going to tell Madame Bak'ton anything until they had some concrete information to hand over.

"Now Judith...." he began.

"Out of my way!" she ordered imperiously, her time in Bak'ton's palace having taught her how to give orders. A lesser man would have stood back and let her get on with it, but Steadfast had no wish to see Madame Bak'ton hurt.

"You are not going to tell Madame Bak'ton anything just yet," he told her firmly.

"Just try and stop me!" she retorted.

Since Judith was quite a few inches shorter than Jason, and nowhere near as strong, he found that quite easy. Calming her temper was a different matter.

Fortunately, Judith's anger (while magnificent to behold) never lasted long. Ten minutes of physically fighting against Jason's strength while screaming blue murder about Dashing, left her feeling rather the worse for wear.

She sat on her bed, trying to catch her breath, eyeing Jason balefully.

"I want you to promise me that you won't tell Madame Bak'ton a thing, until we know exactly what's going on," Jason demanded.

Judith glared at him.

"Promise me - I mean it, Judith. Madame Bak'ton doesn't need to be told half-truths and possible rumours. Promise me," he insisted.

"I promise," Judith muttered.

"Thank you," Jason replied gratefully.

~o0o~

Having sent a message back to Stellarfleet Headquarters, warning them of Dashing's impending marriage, Steadfast was given the authorisation to find out what he could, in a most diplomatic way of course.

Steadfast's first move was to contact the Garlan authorities and ask for shore leave to be granted to his crewmen. The Garlans didn't see any problem with that, their worlds were very popular with Stellarfleet crewmembers.

Every crewman who set foot on the Garlan Homeworld was well aware that he was not there to enjoy himself, but to find out exactly what Dashing was up to. That wasn't how they were briefed of course. Their commanding officers used a variety of words in place of Dashing's name, but they all got the picture.

They knew that Dashing was supposed to be marrying the Princess Tikaren, but the rumours were flying about whether Tikaren was willing to marry 'Lipton'. There were even a few rumours about a plot in the royal court to stop the marriage. Whether they were true or not was anyone's guess.

~o0o~

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

Ilara straightened herself, and rubbed her hands together nervously. Her palms felt damp - that would never do, he'd suspect something. Hastily, she rubbed her hands on the front of her skirt. That was better. She raised one hand to knock on his door, and then jumped back in alarm as the door was yanked open forcefully.

The tailor backed away from his irate customer. Dashing had not been pleased when the poor man had turned up to measure him for his wedding costume, and when Milat had accidentally passed a comment about Dashing's uniform being a little tight for him, Dashing had blown a gasket. It wasn't his fault that this enforced leisure had made him put on weight - all he had to do around here was eat. Normally, he was out saving the universe so morons like him could stand around measuring people for suits! And if that was the best the tailor could say, well, he could get out!

Hence the tailor's rapid exit.

Milat bowed when he saw the Princess Ilara. "Your Highness."

"Milat." Ilara smiled at him. She'd known him all her life. "I understand that our guest is not pleased with your choice of cloth."

"I fear that it is not the cloth which displeases him, Your Highness. I believe the measurements I took were more than he is used to. His enforced leisure being the culprit."

"I see," Ilara replied, "I hope to remedy that."

Milat smiled down at her. Although he was only a tailor, but a royal tailor nonetheless, he had loved her for quite some time now.

"If there is anything I can do, Your Highness...."

"I think perhaps there is, Milat. Will you wait here for me, please?"

"Your wish is my command," he bowed.

Ilara raised her hand and knocked firmly on Dashing's door.

"What?!" Dashing demanded. "Oh. Your Highness."

"May I come in, Captain Lipton?"

"Of course, of course." Dashing scowled at Milat and shut the door loudly behind Ilara.

~o0o~

Back on the Endeavour, Steadfast had accessed the Scrolls of Honour and he and Judith were reading through them rapidly. They were hoping to find something to use to persuade King Inian to hand Dashing over. Judith was appalled at the long list of Rules that applied to marriage proposals.

She gasped as Steadfast's hand tightened painfully upon hers.

"Judith, I think I've got it!"

"What?" she demanded.

"If it shall be shown that one or other of the participants has been deceitful, then the betrothal shall be abandoned unless the injured party chooses to continue," Jason read.

"Deceitful? But Peter...."

"Has lied about his name!" Steadfast said triumphantly.

"Of course. They think he's Lipton. Jason, you did it!" Judith cried, throwing her arms around him.

He hugged her exuberantly.

"Now all we have to do is make sure that the Princess doesn't want to marry him, and give 'em the evidence!"

"And Peter will become Lord Bak'ton!" Judith laughed.

"Really? He has to take Madame Bak'ton's name? I didn't know the Urgonians did that."

"Only Bak'ton - because she's their ruler. I don't think Peter will be pleased."

"No, neither do I," Steadfast grinned.

~o0o~

Ilara, meanwhile, was trying to steel herself to charm Lipton. She felt rather nauseous, and only the thought of her sister's misery kept her going.

Dashing threw himself onto the sofa, then, realising that Ilara was still standing, he sulkily got to his feet. As soon as she sat down, he threw himself back down. Of course, it lost a lot of its dramatic impact in the repetition.

"Captain Lipton," Ilara began, then paused.

Dashing rolled one eye in her direction. He hated that name. He hated this palace.

"Captain..." Ilara paused again, gazing doubtfully at the man in front of her. Courage, she thought. Think of Tikaren! She smiled charmingly at Dashing. "Are you enjoying your stay with us?"

Silence. Dashing didn't want to make polite conversation and since there were no polite words to describe his extreme joy at being trapped into marriage, he stayed silent.

When it became clear that he wasn't going to answer, Ilara continued. "I know that we are enjoying your stay. I am sure that I could listen to your tales of being a Captain in Stellarfleet all day long. What adventures you must have had! What escapades...."

Dashing raised his head. "I hate being a Captain. I've had no adventures." His indignation was building within him. The only adventures he'd had - which he wouldn't repeat to Ilara, women never appreciated his kind of reminscences - were with women. And he liked them. If he married a Princess or a world leader, those adventures (except with his wife, which wouldn't be half so adventurous) would end. Briefly his mind flicked back to Judith. Beautiful, with a rich father, not prominent, any adventures he'd had after being married to her would be easy to arrange. Not so easy in a palace full of courtiers!

He continued. "I don't want to be a Captain," he declared. He felt refreshed by his own honesty. "I want a wife who'll get me a deskjob in Stellarfleet. Who won't notice when I have an affair with my secretary...."

Ilara's eyes popped open. "Af - af - " she stuttered. Adultery was unheard of on the Garlan Homeworld.

"...I'll have a new secretary every month if I want!" His voice was rising, getting louder with every word. "I'll have brunette secretaries...redhead secretaries...BALD secretaries...I don't care! I'll have secretaries with multi coloured hair as well...."

Outside, Milat could hear Dashing's voice, but not distinguish the words. To him, it sounded as though Dashing was...shouting...at the Princess Ilara. Milat knew that as a royal tailor, it was part of his duties to be polite to all guests of the royal family, but this was going too far! He thrust open the door and strode to the rescue.

~o0o~

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

Commander Steadfast, acting-Captain of the Stellarship Endeavour, was having a very interesting conversation with King Inian, who was extremely pleased to hear that his guest (and ex-future-son-in-law) was not called Lipton.

Inian leapt to his feet. "He lied to us?" he cried. "Commander, thank you for this information. I shall speak to you shortly."

And the contact was broken.

Steadfast sat back in his chair...well, Dashing's chair. He wouldn't like to be in Dashing's shoes when King Inian caught up with him.

~o0o~

When King Inian reached Dashing's rooms, followed by his wife, some courtiers and several guards, he was amazed to see Dashing on the floor, his hands clasped over his nose, while Inian's younger daughter was being tightly hugged by the royal tailor.

Inian stopped. His first thought was that Ilara was crying, but as she raised her head from Milat's shoulder Inian realised that she was laughing.

"Oh, Milat. You're wonderful!"

Inian's jaw dropped. It looked as though there would be a wedding after all.

~o0o~

Dashing was not pleased. He'd felt rather good while he was declaring his position to a shocked Princess Ilara, but he had not felt quite as good when Milat had burst in and socked him one on the nose. He felt even worse when he managed to open his eyes and discovered that King Inian, Queen Hunaria and half of the court were gawking at him as he lay on the ground.

With as much dignity as he could muster, he gathered his wits together, got to his feet and faced Milat.

And listened, white faced, as Milat issued a formal declaration of a duel.

~o0o~

King Inian was in a rather awkward position. While he was all in favour of seeing Dashing lose a duel to any of his courtiers, things were a little more complicated than that. First of all, although he wasn't called Lipton, Dashing was a Stellarfleet officer and the Garlans tended to avoid duelling with off-worlders. Secondly, Inian didn't want his family to have to endure any more of Dashing than they had already, and the duel couldn't take place for at least ten days after the declaration. Thirdly, Inian was worried that Dashing might end up kissing someone else while he was here and fourthly, the Rules of Honour forbade Inian from handing Dashing over to Steadfast. Which was a pity.

Milat faced his sovereign with his head held high. He knew that Inian might be rather displeased about his daughter marrying the royal tailor, but he was determined to stick to his guns. Inian, on the other hand, didn't mind that in the slightest. It was Dashing who was his prime concern at the moment.

Inian laid his cards on the table. He wanted Dashing off the planet in the shortest possible time. Any suggestions from his future son-in-law?

"It is possible that Dashing could leave before the duel takes place, sire. Of course, in his absence I would win by default and he would be declared to be a snivelling coward, but I don't know whether he'd mind that."

"Captain Dashing might not wish to leave as he is anxious to avoid meeting the Stellarfleet crew of the Endeavour," Inian said cautiously, Steadfast having asked him to be discreet.

Milat wasn't sure what was going on, but since Inian was prepared to accept his marriage to Ilara, he was quite willing to help in any way he could. "I am sure that I can help Captain Dashing in his dilemma, sire, if you wish...."

The King sat back, satisfied. "Yes, Milat. I think that Captain Dashing would be quite pleased to listen to your advice."

Milat bowed and left.

~o0o~

Dashing opened his door slowly. When he saw the tailor, he made to shut it again, but Milat jammed his foot in the gap.

"What do you want?" Dashing demanded, quite indignantly. "Come to have another go at me?"

"I've come to help you, if you want help that is," Milat replied calmly. "Of course, if you don't, we'll have the duel and you can convalesce on the Endeavour."

Dashing face paled even more. "Steadfast?" He yanked open the door, glanced up and down the corridor shiftily, then grabbed Milat's lapel and dragged him into his room.

"Do you mind?" Milat pushed Dashing's hand away. "I made this myself."

Dashing looked at the tall, dark haired man impatiently. What a fop! The thought crossed his mind that this 'fop' had knocked him to the ground with a great deal of ease. Dashing had thought he'd been hit by a shooting star. He'd certainly seen stars afterwards.

"Well?" he demanded. "How can you help me?"

"Do you want to fight this duel with me?" Milat asked, his blue eyes gleaming at the thought of putting a few holes in Dashing.

"Oh, afraid are you?" Dashing sneered.

"Not of you. But I thought that you might prefer to leave without being damaged."

Dashing looked at the man in front of him. He was quite muscular for a tailor. How much did cloth weigh? He swallowed. "What exactly did you have in mind?"

"If you were to borrow a ship, or book passage on one, you could leave quite easily."

"Oh, and get captur...er...run into the Endeavour? I don't think so."

"Fly to the southernmost continent. They'll think it's a freight run. Land there, wait an hour, book passage on another ship, then take off and head straight out. They won't know you're on board."

Dashing frowned. It sounded easy. "Why are you doing this?"

"I don't want you hanging around at my wedding. It's as simple as that."

"Your wedding?" Dashing felt rather bemused, then he remembered something important. "What about Tikaren, I'm supposed to marry her?"

"You lied to her. You said your name was Lipton. Therefore, the betrothal is dissolved unless she chooses to continue," Milat explained.

"She doesn't want to marry me?" Dashing asked, relieved. Then frowned. Why didn't she want to marry him?

"Not in the slightest - she hates the name Dashing," Milat said smoothly. "So, are you interested in leaving or do you want to stay and face Monsieur Le Sword?" and he sketched a brief pass in the air.

"No, no. I'm sure you're much too busy with your wedding plans to spare time for me," Dashing said, hastily. "I'll just make my apologies to Tikaren and be on my way."

"Sorry, you're not allowed to see her. You can give a message to Ilara if you wish."

"Yes, Ilara. Yes. Er...I'd like to offer her my congratulations too, of course. She's a lucky girl." Dashing grinned smarmily.

"Fine. Ill be back in two hours to take you to the spaceport. I"ll bring Ilara with me then."

"Two hours? Why not go now?"

"Because you're not supposed to be slipping out on the duel. By the way, in your absence, I win by default and announce that you're a snivelling coward. The Rules demand it. You don't mind do you?" And with that, he was gone.

"Snivelling coward?" Dashing paused for a few seconds, then shrugged. It didn't matter what these bumpkins called him, he'd never see them again after tonight.

~o0o~

Final part.