by Peter David
“I did?” His voice was raised in alarm.
“The captain is kidding you, Moke,” Burgoyne assured him.
“The captain has a rather unfortunate sense of humor which tends to exhibit itself at unfortunate times,” Selar said reprovingly. Calhoun did not deign to glance in her direction.
There was some more sounds of movement, a short cough, more movement that was farther away . . .
. . . and then nothing.
They waited.
More nothing followed the nothing that they had amassed up until that time.
When more time had passed, and there was still no sound, and no movement, Burgoyne turned to Calhoun. Calhoun was standing there with remarkable sangfroid, looking not the least bit concerned with the condition or situation of either boy. “Captain,” Burgoyne started to say, “request permission to . . .”
Calhoun put a finger to his lips. He was listening very attentively. “Do you—?”
“I hear it,” Selar said instantly. There was a hint of excitement in her voice, which was about as outofcontrol as she let herself become. “Yes . . . definitely, I hear it.”
“Hear what—?” asked the confused Lieutenant Beth.
At that moment there was the sound of feet coming down the service ladder that ran the length of the Jefferies tube. They were moving quickly, briskly. It didn’t sound to Burgoyne exactly like Moke, however. Instead it sounded slower . . . heavier . . .
Then he realized, of course, just before Moke dropped down out of the Jefferies tube, with a grinning Xyon hanging on to his back like a small monkey.
A ragged cheer went up from the onlookers. “Well done, Moke,” Calhoun said approvingly, and Moke bowed his head in acknowledgment of the compliment.
Selar went straight for Xyon and said, with as much impatience as she allowed to show, “Come here, Xyon. You’ve caused enough trouble for one—”
Xyon let out a yelp, never taking his large eyes off Selar, as he gripped more tightly around Moke’s throat, making it painfully obvious (painfully to Moke, in any event) that he had no desire to let go. “Xyon, stop that!” Burgoyne said.
“Just back away a moment, Doctor . . . Burgy . . .” Calhoun cautioned them, and they did indeed step back. Moke, whose air had been cut off, looked gratefully at Calhoun, since his ordering the others to step back had prompted Xyon to ease up. “Moke . . .” he prompted the boy, and then waited.
“Xyon . . . get down,” Moke managed to gasp out. Instantly, albeit with a reluctant little murmur, Xyon released his choke hold and dropped off Moke’s back. The moment he alighted on the ground, however, he took Moke’s hand and held it firmly.
“Looks like you’ve got a little friend, Moke,” observed Ensign Beth.
“Yes, well, enough is enough. You have taken up far too much of everyone’s time already, Xyon. Come here,” and she held out her hand commandingly. When Xyon didn’t budge from Moke’s side, she said even more firmly, “Come here!”
“Burgoyne, Selar . . . a moment of your time,” said Calhoun, gesturing for them to step away from the scene.”
“Captain,” Selar said, “perhaps this is not the best opportunity for—”
“I’m sorry, were you under the impression that was a request?”
With a small grunt that indicated she did not suffer fools gladly, Selar walked over to Calhoun, Burgoyne at her side. Xyon, left to hold Moke’s hand, cooed happily.
“It seems to me,” said Calhoun in a low voice, once they had withdrawn sufficiently from the others in the hallway to acquire a modicum of privacy, “that Xyon seems rather attached to Moke. And I know that Moke is feeling somewhat at loose ends aboard the ship.”
“Are you suggesting that Moke be ‘assigned’ to tend to Xyon?” asked Selar.
“Captain!” said Burgoyne, filled with relief and gratitude. “That’s—”
“A terrible idea,” Selar said firmly.
“Yes, Captain, with all respect, what were you thinking?” Burgoyne said, doing a quick one-eighty.
But s/he had a feeling by the fleeting smile on Calhoun’s face that the captain knew perfectly well where s/he stood on the matter. That was verified by the fact that Calhoun addressed his comments almost solely to Selar. “It doesn’t seem like such a terrible idea to me,” he said easily.
“Moke is far too young to deal with such responsibility,” Selar told him.
“Why? What’s the worst that can happen? Xyon finds himself up a Jefferies tube? Under someone’s bed? Last week they found him trying to climb into an empty casing for a photo torpedo. You’ve got a very active son there, Doctor, and frankly, I think he needs full-time attention. More to the point, he needs someone who can keep up with him. As far as I’m concerned, Moke would be the leading candidate on that score.”
“I . . . I do not know . . .” Selar said uncertainly. She looked to Burgoyne, which was something of a first, since she rarely sought out anyone else’s opinion when it came to Xyon. “What do you think, Burgoyne?”
Burgoyne wanted to jump up and down, pound the air with hir fist, and cry out, “Yes! Gods, thank you, yes!” But s/he wisely refrained from such an overly demonstrative display. Instead, choosing hir words carefully, s/he said, “Well . . . let’s consider our alternatives. When we can’t attend to him, we lock him in our cabin . . . which will not be pleasant for him. Besides, knowing our son, he’d probably find a way to pass right through the walls. Or he could stay with you in sickbay all the time . . .”
“No,” she said immediately.
Well, he’d been expecting that. “And the bridge is certainly no place for a child, much less an active one. He seems to sneak out of the children’s facility with ease. We could permanently assign a holodeck to him and let him spend time with simulacrums of ourselves . . .”
“I find that disturbing on so many levels I do not even know where to begin,” she said.
“In that case,” said Burgoyne, “this seems to be the most reasonable solution.”
Selar considered it for a short time that seemed an eternity to Burgoyne. Calhoun remained calm and detached. She glanced once more in Moke’s direction, saw the cheerful smile on Xyon’s face as he looked adoringly up at Moke, and finally said, “Very well. If Moke is willing, I will agree to the arrangement on a trial basis.”
“You won’t be sorry,” said Calhoun.
She gave him a look that said, I’m sorry already.
Calhoun strode over to Moke and went to one knee. Xyon, eyes wide with suspicion, stepped behind Moke, using the boy as a barrier between himself and the captain, never taking his eyes off the Starfleet officer. “Moke . . . would you be interested in a permanent assignment . . . ?”
“Watch Xyon?”
“You’re way ahead of me. We—that is to say, Xyon’s parents and I,” and he glanced in their direction, “felt that you were capable of handling the responsibility of—”
“What’s my rank?”
Calhoun tried not to laugh. “Your rank?”
“Everyone on the ship who has a ’sponsibility has a rank. What’s my rank?”
With a small smile, Calhoun said, “Ensign, junior grade. Take it or leave it.”
“Okay.”
Selar quickly approached, but she did not kneel. Instead she stood tall and straight, and Moke and Xyon had to crane their necks to be able to see her face. “If there are any problems, Moke, any difficulties or questions . . . do not hesitate to come to me.”
“Okay, Doctor,” said Moke carelessly. Obviously he did not think there was going to be much in the way of difficulties, problems, or questions. “C’mon, Xyon. Let’s go find something to do that’s not dangerous.”
“Okay!” Xyon said cheerfully.
DANTER
TRANSCRIPT OF WELCOMING ADDRESS made at the Danteri Senate, to the representatives of the Starship Trident upon their arrival at the Danteri Senate Building. Representing the Trident were: vessel’s captain, Elizabeth Shelby of Earth; Ambassador Si Cwan a
nd Princess Kalinda, both late of the Thallonian Empire; Security Chief Arex Na Eth of Triex; and science officer Gleau of Selelvia. In attendance for the Senate was the entirety of the eighty-seven representatives from the thirty-nine provinces of Danter. The text of the Welcoming Address was voted upon and carried by a vote of eighty-four to none in favor, with three abstaining. It was delivered by Speaker of the Senate Lodec, formerly of the house of Falkar, in the Danter year 5724, on the fourth day of the Week of the Triumphs. My fellow senators . . . distinguished guests . . . greetings to you all. I apologize for the rather dreary weather outside. But don’t worry; we’ll find a way to blame it on one of the colony worlds. We always do. (Laughter.)
We are particularly grateful that Lord Si Cwan has taken the time, and the leap of faith, to come to us this day. (Applause). And a leap of faith it is . . . for let us be honest. Yes, my friends, at long last in the history of Danter, let us be honest with each other. The relationship that Danter had with the Thallonians has always been something of a fractious one. We shed no tears when the Thallonian Empire fell. We saw that shift in power as an opportunity for our own people, our own interests, to expand. To benefit. To step over the corpse of the Thallonian Empire and take as much advantage as possible of the opportunities its demise presented us.
And what did we gain in return? What, ultimately, did we gain? You all know the answer . . . but I will spell it out for our visitors. The answer is: nothing.
We endeavored to spread our influence among those planets that had once been under Thallonian rule. It was our belief that, with the passing of the Thallonians, we would simply be able to step in and take over from where they fell. We thought we would appear on those worlds no longer subjugated to the Thallonians and pick up the pieces. We thought . . . it would be easy.
We were wrong.
It could not, in fact, have been more aggravating. Granted, a handful of worlds welcomed us. But these were the most backward, the most underdeveloped worlds. The worlds that presented the most minimal opportunity for Danteri benefit and profit. The worlds that, in short, had the most to gain and the least to lose.
The other worlds, however . . . the worlds that could have benefited the Danteri Empire . . . the worlds upon which we could have expanded our base of strength, ah, those worlds were far more problematic. Some were caught up in internal struggles. Civil wars that had been smothered during Thallonian rule but—once that rule was removed—flared anew. Some sought to manipulate us against other worlds. Some fought us outright. What we had thought would be a simple plucking of the fruits left behind by the Thallonians, instead became a very dangerous orchard with hazards perched in the branches of every tree. We found ourselves fighting a multi-front war that we were wholly unprepared for. And when we pulled back to reconsider our efforts, to redistribute our forces, then in some cases those worlds which we had sought to approach and dominate took that to be weakness on our part. They became even more aggressive, attacking our colony worlds and outposts. Naturally we were able to beat back those incursions . . . but it was not without cost.
Matters have calmed somewhat . . . mostly due to the presence of two starships on permanent assignment to the sector now designated 221-G. We of Danter are not “officially” within that sector; we are on the border. But we are close enough to make our presence felt . . . and to feel the presence of others.
It has been a difficult, even humbling experience for all of us. Indeed, it has taken us many, many months to make that admission, to come to that consensus. But once we did, my fellow senators . . . we were able to come to an inevitable, albeit difficult, conclusion.
And that conclusion, my esteemed visitors, is why you are here. That is why we asked that Ambassador Si Cwan be brought to us. We wish to make . . . a proposition. A proposition uniquely suited for our noble Thallonian lord, and all that he brings with him.
We propose . . . the establishing of a new Thallonian Empire. (Long pause for thunderous applause to die down.)
I will deviate from my prepared text for a moment to note, for the record, the stunned expression on Lord Cwan’s face. (Laughter.) You were not expecting this, were you, Lord Cwan. (Lord Si Cwan shakes his head.) To be truthful, had you suggested to us some months ago that we would be making this proposal, you very likely would have been met with derisive laughter and scorn. But time and misuse of resources can be wearing, Lord Cwan, as I am sure you will acknowledge.
The simple truth, Lord Cwan, is that our neighboring sector of space . . . your former homeland . . . was better off when the Thallonians were in charge. That is not an easy admission for us to make, but it is true. The proof of that simply cannot be ignored. Even those who, once upon a time, wished for the demise of the Thallonian Empire have come to see the error of their ways. Many are nostalgic for your rule. What was once perceived as the heavy hand of tyranny is now seen, instead, as a firm but fair hand of discipline and tolerance that kept peace among dozens and dozens of worlds for uncounted years. Although, as always, there are a few dissenters, it is our belief that there are many who ardently desire a return to a simpler time. A happier time.
Furthermore, it is not as if the entirety of the Thallonian race simply evaporated and disappeared overnight. There are many, many Thallonian expatriates who do not hold that status by choice. They recall fondly their late, lamented homeworld. They remember all too well what it was like to be part of a star-spanning nation under the rule of your family, Lord Si Cwan. They remember better days, and hunger for those days to come again. And they believe that you, Lord Cwan, hold the key to those days. Some of them, granted, were hostile to you. They blamed you and your family for the loss of Thallonian power. But time, and experience, changes the mind of even the most intransigent of individuals.
We of Danter wish to help rebuild the Thallonian Empire.
We know that seems a preposterous notion. The obvious question is: How do we profit from such an endeavor? What is there for us to gain? Believe it or not, Lord Cwan—and we fully admit, you may not believe it at first—the main benefit we have to gain is peace of mind. The neighboring region has been destabilized thanks to the fall of the Thallonian Empire, and that is no good to us at all. If the Thallonian Empire is rebuilt, the restabilization of the region alone will do us good. It will enable us to reset our priorities and focus our energies back on where they belong: the well-being of the Danteri people. (Applause.)
Naturally, however, it would be ludicrous to think that we Danteri would be able to announce to all and sundry that we are endeavoring to re-create the Thallonian Empire. None would believe us. Resistance to the notion would be overwhelming. It would cause far more problems than it would solve. We need individuals who have credibility. Who will serve as not simply figureheads, but instead true leaders around whom the downtrodden of Thallonian space can rally. And, again, to be honest, Lord Cwan . . . there is not a lengthy list of names from which we can choose. You and your sister are the last of your royal family. You are the last, best reminder of what the Thallonian Empire once aspired to. To you and you alone can your people turn in their hour of need. Only you will they trust. Only you can guide them.
The Danteri Senate stands ready to put its full weight, influence, and means behind you, Lord Cwan, in an attempt to set up a new Thallonian Empire. We look to you to throw your considerable charisma, organizational skills, and reputation behind the endeavor. Thallonian space was stronger with you than without you, and with you can become great once more. It is our proposal that we reinstitute a royal family, comprised naturally of yourself and your sister, plus any paramours or consorts you wish to include. We would form a core alliance of worlds, overseen by yourself, which would be able to enforce the will of Thallonian teachings and guidance upon the rest of Thallonian space. Expatriate Thallonians will learn of this, there is no doubt. They will come to this world. They will join you if you lead them. Things can be . . . the way they were.
And once that happens—once the Thallonian Empire
has been rebuilt—then, Lord Cwan, your people and ours will be able to move forward as allies, nurturing strength from strength rather than trying to benefit from perceived weakness. We can create a new golden age for the Thallonian Empire, and achieve greatness for ourselves as a result. (Applause)
There are no tricks to this offer, Lord Si Cwan. No bargains, no demands. Simply an offer of an opportunity that will benefit all and harm none.
We await your decision.
EXCALIBUR
i.
“YOU’RE KIDDING. I mean, you can’t be serious.” Calhoun sat in his ready room, staring in astonishment at the image of Shelby on the communications screen. He’d been polishing the short sword he customarily kept hanging on the wall, but he had now forgotten about it completely upon hearing what his wife had just told him.
“Do I sound like I’m kidding, Mac?”
He sat back, feeling as if he’d been physically struck in the face. “A new Thallonian Empire?”
“That’s what they said.” She was shaking her head in slow amazement. “That place was massive, Mac, that senate building. I’ve been to the UFP chambers, and this place dwarfed that. Actually, the whole capital city is like that. Big. Everything big. Big buildings, big people . . . even their pets are big . . .”
“Yes, yes, I know. It’s a cultural tendency among them. Goes to their tendency to be big and boastful about everything, but that’s not the point right now, Eppy.” Remembering that he was still holding the sword, he laid it down flat on the desk. To some degree, he couldn’t understand why Shelby looked so completely calm. On the other hand, he had to admit that he admired that about her. Here she was, faced with an insane and potentially explosive offer, and she seemed to be taking it utterly in stride. Either she was not thrown at all by what fate had tossed her way, or else she simply had no real clue of what she was being faced with. “The point is: What’s going to happen? What did Si Cwan say?”