TITLE: "Timeworn Traditions... and Death" 
AUTHOR: Gayle Rochefort-Potts 
E-MAIL: tpotts@sprint.ca 
WEBSITE: http://www.geocities.com/taitlu/
SERIES: Mirror/Pre-TNG 
PAIRING: M-Koloth/f 
RATING: NC-17 (WARNING: mildly graphic violence) 
PARTS: One 
POSTING: MUFF (Mirror Universe Fuq-Fest)

SUMMARY: Captain Koloth attempts to keep his House safe...
with a secret weapon. DISCLAIMER: TPTB have all the
headaches... we have all the fun! Definitely no profits
will be made with this story.

NOTE: A very large note of thanks to my beta, Salatrel...
she knows how to beta until it squeals...<g>


"Timeworn Traditions... and Death" 
By Gayle Rochefort-Potts 
(Written for the Mirror Universe Fuq-Fest) 
(c)October 2001


With a force that nearly tore the large carved wooden door
off its hinges, Captain Koloth slammed into the home. He
stomped his way through the entryway, servants scattering
as he made his way into the large common room.

"Bloodwine!" he shouted and then began to pace.

An aging Vulcan servant seemed to be the only one with the
courage to enter the room. She carried a large pitcher and
goblet.

"My Lord," her sombre tone echoed through the sparse
chamber. She placed the goblet down on the small table and
poured the dark red wine. Why it was referred to as
bloodwine was beyond her, especially since a Klingon's
blood was a lighter pink colour. No doubt if she asked she
would be told that it was the colour of their enemy's blood
whomever that was for the day.

"It's about time," Koloth grumbled as he crossed the room
in hasty strides.

"I came as soon as the others scattered into hiding," the
female severely countered. Everyday he found a new way of
making her job more difficult. He grumbled his gratitude
then grabbed the goblet and, as was his daily custom, he
saluted her before the first sip. She watched the wine
drizzle down the aging Klingon warrior's white beard. Then
as was her right after a lifetime of servitude, the Vulcan
admonished her Master. "In order for servants to serve, it
is preferable that they are in the same room as the master."

He wiped his chin with the back of his hand, slammed his
goblet down upon the table, then leaned in close to her
face. "Then they must learn not to scatter..." He held her
chin for a moment, considering his next action then
released his hold. His gruff gesture told her to pour him
another. This he drank down even faster than the first. The
servant was poised to refill it but he shook his head no.
"They are all cowards," he spat out.

She lifted an eyebrow. "Your meeting with the Regent went
well?"

Koloth growled under his breath, "I have secured a place
despite the interference of those damnable Duras bastards.
Other than that, only the Fates will know." Koloth held out
the goblet to be refilled yet again. His servant poured
another serving without hesitation. The name of that House
was not an unfamiliar one; Duras had been a thorn in her
master's family for generations.

Anticipating her Klingon Master's needs, the female
servant placed the pitcher down and moved in behind Koloth.
She reached up and slipped off the sleeveless robes he wore-
his badge of office and position. She waited as he
transferred the goblet to the freed hand. She folded the
robes over her arm, bowed her head, then dutifully
inquired. "Do you wish some food?"

Koloth shook his head. The gagh and the targ heart he had
eaten with the Regent still sat heavily in his stomach. He
drained the goblet and refilled it on his own. This would
at least help him sleep tonight, as it did most nights. He
looked into the drink and then to his servant, "Perhaps
some company?"

"As you command, joH Koloth."

He was secretly pleased when she used that dutiful tone.
He watched her leave the room then slurped down the final
mouthful of wine. "Aw-w," Koloth complained then inwardly
resolved to test the rest of the batch. It seemed far too
bitter to be worth the price he had paid of it.

His Vulcan servant returned carrying a carved wooden box.
Koloth grinned for he recognized this box. It had been her
sole procession upon arriving on Qu'noS a lifetime ago and
he always enjoyed watching set up the game with such
meticulous care. She unlocked the lid and lifted it to
reveal a flat platform, placing it on the table; she
removed two smaller containers and placed one in front of
herself and the other across from her. It was a Vulcan
strategy game, kal-toh, and had become one of Koloth's
preferred pastimes.

Koloth wanted to divert his attentions from his harried
day and hurried over to the chair at his servant's side. He
did not want to sit across from her. He reached to the
small case and brought it closer. He opened it revealing
the t'an sticks for this 'game'.

'Vashau' was the word for 'destroy' in the Vulcan language
and when he had purchased this servant for his mate, he had
truly believed that she had a Klingon soul, for this was
her name. Koloth had not been certain why she had been
named this until some unfortunate guard decided to press
his attentions on this seemingly delicate servant... and
within a single scream, he had died. Vashau was capable of
doing this with merely a thought, quite literally, and
quite efficiently. Her 'gift' left no mark on the body, no
evidence of what had happened. She could cause one's heart
to burst or the recipient would merely fall asleep... into
his or her own death.

Vashau used her gift for Koloth's House exclusively. On
more than one occation he and his mate had utilized her
services when there was no other was to 'do the deed'. One
such occation had filled Koloth with conflict.

The memory of his mate's fatal illness would always be raw
in his heart... in excruciating pain but tenaciously
clinging to life, his beloved Kempa wasting away before his
eyes. The proof was not there but Koloth was certain that
it had been someone from the Duras house who had caused his
mate's illness. But he could not watch her suffer any
longer and Koloth had asked this of Vashau... if she could
end the suffering. She had reluctantly agreed because she
did not like using this 'gift'... not in this manner. His
mate's torture had been ended... and she was at peace...
she could finally enter the gates of Sto-vo-kor.

After Kempa's death, an inconsolable Koloth had locked
himself into his home. For weeks he had done nothing but
drink and sleep and brood upon his suspicions that it had
been a Duras who had done this. The house staff had been
treated to many a drunken stupor as he boasted of plots to
end the entire Duras family once and for all. But without
any real proof, no one would ever head the drunken
ramblings of a widower.

After a particularly violent episode, the master had
managed to break his own foot while kicking an ottoman
across the floor.  He had barely missed an infant targ and
the creature had scurried away in terror. It was this
injury and the near miss that made Vashau say enough. She
quite soberly pointed out that there would be a time that
the proof would present itself and he needed to be prepared
for that day. Koloth had agreed and from that day on had
not allowed his servant, Vashau far from his reach.

After only a few games of kal-toh, Koloth yawned. He
pushed aside the goblet containing the last of the second
pitcher of bloodwine. Curious how the second pitcher always
tasted better than the first. He was not seeing the
intricacies of this game any longer.

Vashau looked to her master. "You wish sleep?"

"Yes I believe so."

"I will deal with this." She indicated the game and the
dishes.

"Find someone else. I wish you with me." Koloth stated and
then headed off to his private rooms.

"As you command, joH Koloth." Vashau spoke to thin air at
the end. Koloth had disappeared quickly. She called in
another younger servant. "See that this is cleaned up. joH
Koloth will not be disturbed."

The servant bowed, "It is understood, toy'wI'Daj."

'toy'wI'daj', the Vulcan considered the title: 'His
Servant'. It was a significant title and this young maid's
voiced reverence and her averted glance denoted both
respect and fear. For so long Vashau had been accustomed to
'toy'wI' when she had been a simple servant amidst a great
many. Later, when the mistress had favoured her, she became
toy'wI' Vashau. To have one's name used by the family was
the greatest honour a servant could ever hope for in a
life. It was these honours that the Vulcan had aspired to
ever since childhood.

And now she was 'His Servant'- a most significant position
in this house. However, it was not one that afforded her
any additional rewards in the outside world on Qu'noS. On
this alien world, she remained an outsider, a slave from a
conquered world. Her pointed ears and upswept brows had
drawn not only sneers from Klingon women but jeers and
spittle from their children. To this type of treatment,
Vashau preferred the confined life of her master's house
where she reigned as 'His Servant'... appreciated and
honoured.


~~~~~ The room that Vashau entered was large and dominated
by a very large bed in the centre of the room. Koloth and
his mate, Kempa, had enjoyed a private time that was very
active.

After their very elaborate mating ceremony, Koloth had
given Kempa a gift... a Vulcan servant with a very special
skill of her own, Vashau. Kempa had also learned in time
that she could not always satisfy Koloth's needs and Vashau
had been used to satisfy Koloth's sexual appetite a few
times with Kempa's blessings. Kempa's theory had been that
if he was to be with another, she wished to choose one that
had loyalties to her. If he strayed any further, Kempa
would have used Vashau to end his life.

After Kempa's death, Koloth did not wish to seek out
another mate but contented himself with Vashau's company.
There were no alliances he was interesed in enough to force
him to secure another female. This servant demanded nothing
of him and she was a haven from the brutality of everyday
life. He also slept a little sounder knowing that she
served him now and would kill to protect him.

Vashau slipped under the covers, in spite of the time she
had spent here and the heavier sleep gown, she still felt
the dampness of this world. She waited for Koloth under the
weight of the covers. Serving this House had not been the
worst situation she could have found herself in. When her
father had sold her, she had expected to be placed in the
harem of the house or to been given the lowliest of tasks
to perform. The first time she had set eyes on Koloth he
was very young. His hair was dark and his body firm and
strong. He was just beginning his conquests. She remembered
the one-sided conversation she was present for concerning
her station she was to be assigned to- protection for his
new mate or as a personal servant, in any way his mate
required. Above all Koloth demanded Vashau's loyalty... or
he would have her killed... and he had promised that the
killing would be slow and painful. Nearly eighty years had
passed since then and she knew she would serve him until
her own death.

Koloth entered the room; he had showered and had tied back
his hair. He wore the heavy robe that Kempa had purchased.
It was a costly garment in more ways than one and to Kempa
the price was a just one. She had secured this robe for her
mate's honour when he had obtained command of a squadron.
That had been long ago but the robe still retained its
richness.

"You look lost in there." He murmured in approval then
poured out more bloodwine from the carafe that was
customarily left on the stand by his side of the bed. He
poured out a small amount into a second goblet. He passed
the goblet to Vashau. He drained most of his wine before he
slipped off his robe and climbed into the bed.

Koloth waited as Vashau drank the small amount of wine, he
was aware that she did not really enjoy the drink but it
did help her sleep. Or so she claimed. He noted the heavy
gown she wore. "Why do you wear such a concealing garment?"

"I find the room cold." She placed the goblet on her
bedside.

"Come closer and you will not find it so cold."

"You indulged in this activity last night, I had not
expected this again."

Koloth rolled to cover part of her body, his face very
close to hers, "I am the master, you serve me as I desire."

Her body relaxed as she met his eyes. "As you command, joH
Koloth."

Koloth's hand moved down the front of the gown, opening it
with practiced ease. At times he wondered if this servant-
master routine was a sex ploy or did she really view them
as such. It amused him this game of 'I come to serve thee,
Master'. He found himself pleased and at times, excited at
the fact that she was indeed his to do with as he wished.
He lowered his mouth to her shoulder as he bared it. His
lips brushed the warm skin then his teeth sunk slowly into
her skin. He growled softly in the back of his throat. "You
take no pleasure in this?" He searched her face for a
moment. "You were more active in your younger days."

Vashau smiled slightly, "So were you joH..."

Koloth growled and turned away. He sat on the edge of the
bed and drank down the remaining wine. He wiped his mouth
then looked back at the Vulcan in his bed. His eyes caught
the unmistakable glint of a blade that seemed to appear out
of thin air.

Vashau moved onto her knees, her arm circled his chest and
she held the very thin sharp blade against his chest. "I
could entertain you with my skill at be'joy?"

Koloth swallowed then growled, "I do not believe so,
Little Mate." He moved his hand slowly along her arm,
feeling the warmth of her arm and of her body pressed
against his back. He had been impressed and pleasured with
Kempa's skill at be'joy. The phrase translated from Klingon
to mean 'a woman's torture' and it was something that, when
done to perfection, could either please or kill.

Oh Kempa, how thee are deeply missed, Koloth thought while
entwined within Vashau's arms. His wife had teased him one
night saying, "So, Husband, shall I call your 'Little-Mate'
to bed or will your wife suffice for the night?" Koloth had
made the mistake of mentioning his pleasure in Vashau's
delights and how he longed for both women to join him for a
night of painful bliss. This blade pressed to his chest had
been a gift to his beloved wife and had been bequeathed to
the Vulcan with the understanding that Vashau continue
honing her skill with it.

The specialized blade was used to carefully peel off a
single layer of skin... a strip about three inches wide if
the female was skilled enough... and his mate was skilled.
He had heard reports of those that could strip their
victims of a single layer of the epidermis without a break
in the skin. Kempa had taught her craft to Vashau. Combined
with Kempa's determination and the Vulcan's dexterity, the
pair had become well known... and feared. Koloth felt the
phantom-pain of the scars that covered his chest from the
pleasures he had shared with Kempa.

Koloth's hand closed slowly, almost sensuously around her
hand that held the blade. He took the blade from her hand
as he pulled her around into his lap. The gown she wore
fell open. Koloth held the blade against her skin and drew
a fine line, from the base of her throat down her body to
the edge of the mound of dark hair. He watched as the fine
line glistened with her green blood, drawing his attention
down her body.

His tongue gingerly drew up the blade, savouring her odd-
tasting life fluid. He tossed the blade onto the chair,
then stood with Vashau in his arms. He growled low and deep
in his throat then tossed her onto the bed. He crawled onto
the bed, and began to taste the line of Vulcan blood. He
started at her throat, slowly tasting the uniqueness of
this. Her skin was warm but her blood seemed warmer. He
paused on his path to tease and suckle on her breasts,
leaving faint green bloodstains on her nipples. He felt her
fingers move into his hair, the tie was removed and his
long white hair fell loose. She arched her body and moaned
softly. She was not as vocal as his mate had been but he
had learned to adapt, to take pleasure with her soft moans.
He had learned over the years to read her almost as well as
she had learned of his moods.

Did he feel anything for this female Vulcan? Perhaps over
time he had.

Did she feel anything for him other than a servant's
loyalty? Perhaps she did.

Neither would speak of it, neither of them would expect
more than what was being shared for the moment.

He mounted her, driving himself into her warmth, over and
over with a hunger for satisfaction. Her scent was enticing
and he inhaled it deeply while he nuzzled her neck. Harshly
he grasped her hand and licked her wrist, all the while
threatening to break the delicate skin covering her veins.

It was a matter of great trust to let a Klingon run his
teeth over one's thin skin and Vashau stoically bore the
brush with death. These Vulcans were of a hardy stock,
Koloth thought as he drove deeper into her Vulcan inferno.
By Kahless, he moaned, she was hotter and tighter than
Kempa had ever been even as a virgin when he had taken her
maidenhood.

Vashau raised her hips slightly and Koloth groaned. He
knew what was to come and her muscles flexed and she
squeezed his member within her folds. He sunk his teeth
into her palm and continued his ramming. Too bad about the
outcome of Planet Vulcan, Koloth mused. If this one, his
Vashau, was any indication of the stock these people had
been, the Klingons would have done themselves a greater
service by making them allies rather than enslaving them.
Tiring of her tempting flesh he demanded satisfaction.

He ran his hands up her arms then lifted her hands up over
her head. He held them. He devoured her mouth with his. He
intertwined his fingers with hers, her slick blood flowed
from the wounds, and the mild joining took place. The
emotions and passions that had shared many times. It was
less than a meld, that was explained years ago but it was
something that Vashau needed.

The rhythm of his thrusts increased with each breath. She
wrapped her legs around his, pulling him closer and tighter
to her. Vashau's body shivered from her climax. Koloth
threw back his head and growled as his body released the
fluid into her.

Koloth rolled onto his back and drew in a deep breath. He
was ready for sleep now. His youth was far behind him and
like his servant he was no longer able to engage in this
activity all night long. He reached for Vashau, his hand
slipping into her hair. He spoke softly, only loud enough
for her to hear. "You bring pleasure to my life, my Little
Mate."

Vashau moved closer to him, "It is my duty to serve, joH
Koloth." She brushed her lips against the side of his face.
She would never speak it aloud but he gave her a great deal
of pleasure in return.

With her robes still draped upon her shoulders, Vashau
slipped from the bed. Koloth pulled the covers up and sunk
into the comfort of his bed. He stared at the ceiling as
she went about closing the doors and locking all the entry
points into the room. It was her usual duty each night. He
sensed a change in her... presence. "What is it?"

"An intruder," she stated with Vulcan calm.

Koloth slipped from the bed and pulled on his robe,
fastening it as he reached for Vashau's discarded blade.
"Where?"

Vashau listened for a moment, searching with her thoughts
for the location of the intruder. "It is a warrior. He is
entering the common room." She moved with agility and
stealth to Koloth's side. She took the blade from his hand.
"I will deal with him, joH."

Koloth accepted her service with some trepidation. He
wondered where the guards were that were normally posted at
the entrance to his home. He was not pleased that they
could be so easily overcome. He felt rather than saw Vashau
slide open the door. He followed her out into the hall that
connected the rooms. He promised himself that he would
return to his old habit of having a weapon in the sleep
area. He was also aware that when he reached the fallen
guards that there would be a weapon for his use. He trusted
that it would not be too late to deal with this intruder.


~~~~ The darkness enveloped her. She hesitated only once
as she made her way towards the intruder. She could feel
his movements in the room and she knew that he could not
sense her.

It took only a moment and she centred her thoughts on the
intruders... and then the scream came.

Koloth heard the clattering of a bat'leth as it hit the
floor then the unmistakable thump of a body as it fell. He
waited a moment for Vashau to indicate that all was clear.

"It is safe, joH Koloth."

Koloth tapped on the light controls and brought them to
half power. There on the floor was the intruder, from the
very faint rise and fall in his chest the intruder was not
yet finished. Koloth reached down, grabbed hold of his
chest-plate and pulled the intruder to his feet. "Why are
you here?"

"Death to Koloth," the mumbled threat was barely heard.

"I still live. You have failed." Koloth's eyes scanned the
uniform identifying the House of Duras that he served. One
of the smaller but most ambitious houses on Qo'noS and his
family's despicable enemy. He released the hold and the
warrior collapsed in a heap at his feet.

Koloth looked to Vashau, "Find the others that failed in
their duty and make examples of them."

"Yes, joH Koloth." Vashau bowed her head. This would take
her perhaps fifteen minutes and she would be exhausted
after the effort.

"Scan their thoughts. If any were responsible, kill them."
He started towards his room, then stopped and turned back.
"I will return for you." He knew how tired she would be. He
had seen the results of her mind killings and he had seen
her collapse as a result of it.

Koloth left the room quickly, not to escape the sight of
the killings but to make her job easier. He would remain in
his room, shielded from her thoughts in here. He had the
rooms built in this fashion after Vashau had come to him,
if he could own one that killed with her mind, so could
another. He did this to keep his family safe.


He closed the door, poured the bloodwine then listened to
the screams of those that had betrayed his House. He sipped
on the wine, watched the moons of Qu'noS and the twinkling
of the stars. He recalled his younger days when he and
Kempa would make love when the killings happened.

Tonight he would not lie with his heart's match, but
rather with a weapon that he owned. He wondered if she
would ever be used against him. In the back of his mind he
was sure that Vashau would cause her own death than to be
used as an instrument in his death. Suicide...it could be a
timeworn tradition... at the appointed time, he would offer
her the choice to live... or fall with him. He was certain
she would choose to walk with him through the gates of Sto-
vo-kor.

Let it be written...so let it be done. 

~~~~~

Feedback cheerfully accepted: tpotts@print.ca