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"Broken Loyalties" by Lady Rainbow
Rating: PG-13 The Japanese tea ceremony or chanoyu, is a beautiful ritual. I attended a tea ceremony fifteen years ago. We had an exchange teacher from Hiroshima come to our high school to teach a year of Japanese (I took the class) and she brought us to a Japanese restaurant where we had the ceremony. As for the actual steps to the ceremony, I refer the reader to “The Japanese Tea Ceremony” by Anthony Man-Tu Lee. It gives a good description of the history of chanoyu and the steps to the ceremony. Three The Floating Pavilion lived up to its name: it was a single island, accessible only by a long footbridge connecting it to the mainland. The bridge was visible at low tide; guards were stationed at three separate checkpoints on it. Travis marveled at the sturdiness of the bridge, despite the ravages of salt water. He submitted to the three searches, one on the mainland gate, one at the midpoint, and one on the Floating Pavilion. Tanaka wanted to make sure no one set foot on her private domain without her knowledge. “There are underwater cameras on the shore and under the bridge, as well as proximity sensors,” Bernhard Mueller said. “She also has a sophisticated sensor array and anti-missile launchers, not to mention her own private landing field on the island.” “Jeez,” Travis breathed. “How did she manage all that?” “Connections,” Paul replied cryptically. “And every part of her security system on the planet is made to blend with the natural environment, so they’re practically invisible.” He chuckled dryly. “The first time I was here, I made the mistake of tripping one of her sensors. Nearly gave me a heart attack when five of her guards surrounded me with those tall pikes of theirs—“ “No-dachis,” Hoshi put in. “Tall, halberd-like poles with sharp blades, like a super-sized bayonet.” “Yeah. I thought I’d be skewered right there.” Paul shook his head. “Learned my lesson right there. You don’t make the same mistake twice.” Travis sighed as they stepped foot on the Floating Pavilion. Sumiko Tanaka was the rose in the iron glove. Her touch was felt no matter where you were on Vega. You owed allegiance to her and her alone, and if you betrayed her, you were dead. Simple as that. He shivered, despite the warm sun. Is this what Philippe will be, five years from now? God. He has to deal with men and women like Tanaka...how can you keep your soul intact? A stairway was cut into the stone cliff and spiraled up to Tanaka’s fortress. A wall surrounded her main home and its multiple support buildings. The gray and green foundations matched the rocks of the summit; if Travis didn’t know where to look, he would have missed it. “I’ve never seen any complex so big,” Captain Archer commented, “and that includes Starfleet Command in San Francisco. She has an army of servants and bureaucrats to oversee all over her daily business.” Travis glanced sideways at him and said, “But she still keeps a personal eye on things.” “Yes, she does. I don’t know how, but she certainly does.” Archer frowned at the iron gate set into the outer wall. “Here we are, Travis.” The guards bowed at Travis, then said something to Hoshi. She nodded and turned to Travis. “They’ve got a suite for you in the Southern Wing of the fortress, Travis. We have to get you dressed appropriately before she’ll see you.” He sighed. “I get to wear what you guys are wearing?” Hoshi smiled. “Even better. You get to wear all the formal trappings of a high official: robes, swords, everything.” “Wonderful.” He glanced at Paul, who wore an insufferable smirk. Travis sighed again; Paul seemed to enjoy having the upper hand in this business and it was all he could do to not wipe that smirk from Paul’s face. As it turned out, it wasn’t just a matter of changing clothes and going to meet Tanaka. First, Travis endured a Japanese-style bath, a cold-water scrubbing, then relaxing in a tub of steaming water, with several bath servants in attendants. Then came the dressing attendants, who helped him into the layers of robes. A simple tunic under a green kimono, with hems, sleeves, and obi belt in a deeper hunter green. White socks and wooden tabi, gold mon badge of a shooting star on the shoulders. Katana slung on his back at the precise angle, wakazashi in his belt, a gold chain around his neck. The only concession to his Starfleet rank was the two gold pips of a Lieutenant on the collar of the kimono, like Mueller’s one pip on his kimono. “You look stunning, Travis,” Hoshi commented. “Green really is your color.” “Yeah. I’m surprised at how easy it is to move around in this get-up.” Travis grinned at her. “Any other rituals before we get to meet her?” She nodded. “I know she’s scheduled a formal tea ceremony in your honor. Jonathan and Paul are with her already, and Bernhard’s waiting at the end of the hall.” “Let’s do this. I’m curious to finally meet Tanaka.” They walked to the end of the level, where Bernhard and a handful of guards waited for them. Mueller raised his eyebrows in approval at the sight of Travis. “Gott in Himmel. I’m envious. You look better in a robe than I do.” “C’mon, Bernhard, you don’t look that bad. Can you imagine Trip Tucker in a kimono? Or Phlox?” Travis’s grin grew wider. “Or T’Pol? Or Malcolm?” Bernhard cleared his throat as they started on the long, winding path to Tanaka’s inner Sanctum. “Tucker and T’Pol might carry it off well. And Reed might actually look like a samurai. But Phlox? That would be a thought that would give me nightmares.” “Be careful what you wish for,” Hoshi teased. “Phlox is supposed to consult with Tanaka’s medical doctors next week, so he’ll be down here and wearing one.” Bernhard looked horrified for a moment. Hoshi and Travis’s laughter rang off the stone walls as they went down yet another spiral staircase and a series of ramps. Finally, they reached a pair of wooden doors at the end of a long hallway, with two guards at attention. Hoshi said something to the guards, who nodded and activated the intercom on the wall. The older one relayed her message, then a green light glowed on the comm panel. “Doozo gozaimasu,” the guard said, bowing deeply. “She is waiting.” They entered through the double wooden doors into a large audience chamber. The walls and floor were polished wood, stone columns set every few meters. A fountain bubbled at one corner of the room, an altar sat at another corner, with a lacquered cabinet set in a stone niche. Soft lighting reflected off the red and yellow tapestries and the straw tatami mats in the main area. Seated at the front of the room, on a silk cushion, was Sumiko Tanaka. She wore the yellow kimono Travis had seen her in earlier, embroidered with blue irises and delicate white spirals. At her left was a young Vegan woman, her long, spindly giraffe-like legs tucked under her, her hooved hands in her lap. To Tanaka’s right was Paul, then Captain Archer.High up in the gallery sat members of Tanaka’s Board of Directors and her family. Travis felt all eyes upon him, watching, weighing, calculating. The sense of danger made the hair at the back of his neck stand on end. Next to him, he saw Bernhard place a hand on his wakazashi, and the guards in his entourage do the same. A good defense is a strong offense, Malcolm Reed had told Travis many times. He decided to take that advice to heart. After he took a deep breath, he strode to the middle of the chamber, several feet away from Tanaka, then bowed deeply towards her. “Welcome to my house, Mayweather-san,” she said in a soft voice that still carried to the far edges of the room. “I am honored by your presence.” “Thank you, Tanaka-sama. I am the one honored.” “Rise and join me, Mayweather-san. We have much to discuss, but first, allow me to offer tea in honor of you, my honored guest. Please sit with your back to the takohama--”she indicated the altar and the cabinet, “—in the place of honor.” He did so. From his new vantage point, Travis saw a scroll of calligraphy hanging from the wall opposite him. Tanaka noticed his interest and read the characters aloud. "Honrai mu ichibutsu. At the beginning, we have nothing." So began the elaborate tea ceremony. Servants brought in plates of sweet desserts and Tanaka invited her guests to partake in it. Then the tea caddy, bowls, whisk and water were brought in with great pomp. A young woman made the green tea according to prescribed ritual: measuring the scoops of tea leaves, adding the water, using a bamboo whisk to stir the liquid, offering the tea to the guest. Travis watched with fascination, for he’d never seen a tea ceremony before, though Hoshi had told him stories about her childhood and being trained in the art. The servant offered the tea to Travis, but before he could accept it, Tanaka intercepted it. The servant bowed at her, then backed away. Tanaka held the bowl in one hand, rotated it three times to the right, then took a deep sip. She rotated it back to the left to its original position, then turned and offered it to Travis. A stir went through the gallery above them. He wasn’t exactly sure of its significance, but judging from her people’s reaction, and the surprise and worry in Hoshi’s eyes, this was not the norm. She’s not trying to poison me, is she? Travis reminded himself that Tanaka had drunk out of the same bowl. If that tea had been tampered with, then she would be affected as well. That is, if she hadn’t built up some kind of immunity to it. He gave himself a mental kick. There was such a thing as being too paranoid. He accepted the bowl, turned it as he had seen her do, and took a drink. Her eyes glowed with approval as he rotated the bowl in his hand again, and handed it back to her. Finally, the ceremony was over and the servers collected their equipment, bowed to Tanaka and the guests, and retreated by a rice paper shoji door at the other end of the room. Applause broke out from the gallery, followed by cheers of, “Banzai! Banzai!” “Thank you for sharing the ceremony with me, Travis-san,” Tanaka said warmly. “Thank you for allowing me to attend, Tanaka-sama,” Travis answered with a smile. The change to the familiar form of address hadn’t escaped him. He had a feeling that he’d passed some sort of test. Would anyone have the patience to deal with the long journey across the bridge, the elaborate preparations, the formal dressing, and then the tea ceremony, in order to just say hello to Tanaka? “Now for the feast.” She clapped her hands, and other servers entered the room with covered dishes held high above their heads. “There’s more?” Bernhard asked Hoshi in a low tone. He shifted uncomfortably on his cushion. “My legs are falling asleep.” Hoshi inclined her head to him, not without sympathy. “A formal reception includes food and entertainment, Bernhard. It would be impolite to refuse. But—“ she smiled at him, “—your position as Travis’s bodyguard entitles you to stand watch over him, and not sit for the entire time.” “Did they have a party for you too, Jonathan?” Travis asked. It still felt strange calling Captain Archer by his first name. Jon shook his head. “Not like this. We had a private tea ceremony, with Hoshi presiding over it. It was an eye-opening experience.” He glanced at Hoshi, who blushed at the praise. “Tanaka places a big emphasis on ritual and tradition, almost to the point of having it dictate every one of her thoughts and actions.” Travis nodded. “In that case, Hoshi, I’m gonna need a crash course in cultural relations. I don’t want to accidentally do something to screw up the negotiations.” “Of course, Travis. I’d be happy to teach you the local customs.” She nodded at Paul, who seemed more interested in the goings-on in the gallery. “I’m sure your brother’s already well-versed in Tanaka’s business etiquette—“ Paul brought his attention back to Hoshi. “Actually, Hoshi, I wouldn’t mind a refresher course. Most of what I do is normal ship-to-ship trade negotiations, like I did with the Boomers. I’ve never had to deal formally with Tanaka’s family and shareholders. Seems like a good time to learn how.” Travis nodded, but he wondered at the ominous note in his brother’s voice. Paul knew something that might affect their talks with Tanaka Enterprises, but didn’t want to get into it now. Travis decided to let time dictate when—and how—Paul would talk. He caught Tanaka’s gaze at them. Her slight smirk reminded Travis of Malcolm when the Armory Officer was formulating a tactical plan in his head. Travis wished fervently that Malcolm was here now; not that he doubted Bernhard’s ability, but he missed Malcolm’s ability to read into dangerous situations...and be right. I have to beat her at her own game. The thing is, how the hell am I gonna do it? |
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