Star Trek: New Frontier - 017 - Treason

by Peter David

  The ground was littered with the motionless bodies of her guards. They were all down; not one of them was in any position to protect her. Kalinda was looking around, wide-eyed. She did not appear afraid; instead she seemed fascinated by the developments around her.

  The ambassador transport was settling to the ground. The hatch opened and a squad of Boragi emerged. They were dressed identically, giving the impression of uniforms, and they were heavily armed. Clearly they were soldiers, which surprised the hell out of Robin Lefler because she hadn’t thought that the Boragi even had armed forces. There was obviously a good deal about themselves that they had kept under wraps.

  The soldiers leveled their weapons at the fallen guards, making certain that none of them was merely pretending to be unconscious. They were remaining in tight formation, but now they separated to make way for Tusari Gyn. He strolled through them as if he was on an outing in a park, his hands draped behind his back, his look imperious. He was unarmed and unarmored. This brought some solace to Robin, because he had nothing to serve as protection against a phaser blast. She reminded herself where the Boragi heart was and pictured the exact place on him so that she would be able to take aim and drill a hole right through it.

  “For what it’s worth, Lady Cwan, I am truly sorry about this,” said Tusari Gyn. His voice was low and gentle, as if he were singing a child to sleep.

  “I think you know what it’s worth,” she said tightly. Tusari Gyn wasn’t close enough yet to guarantee that she was going to get a clear shot at him. She knew instinctively she was only going to have one chance at him, and she didn’t want to blow it.

  If I shoot, then they return fire. Except I’m holding the infant, which is what they came after. If they fire at me, they risk injuring or killing the baby. Which means that I’m basically using my own child as a shield, but it’s not for my benefit. It’s for his. It’s the only way the both of us are going to survive this. Except…what if, for all his talk of wanting to raise the child as the last heir of the House of Cwan, they’ve decided that the simplest thing to do is just kill the three of us? Me, Kalinda, Cwansi, all in one shot.

  “I know what you’re thinking,” said Tusari Gyn calmly. He had halted about thirty feet away, still farther than Robin would have liked to guarantee a killing shot. “You’re thinking, why don’t we just kill the three of you right here, right now and be done with it?” Robin kept her face impassive, not wanting to betray her being startled over Tusari Gyn’s seeming ability to climb into her head and discern what was running through it. “It is not our first choice,” continued Tusari Gyn. “The end of the House of Cwan will create a power vacuum. Such things are unpredictable, because power, like nature, detests a vacuum. The fact that you, Si Cwan’s widow, were able to continue as Prime Minister avoided problems in the short term. The existence of his son will provide the long-term solution.”

  “As raised under the wise guidance of Tusari Gyn,” she said. The Boragi’s name sounded like a profanity the way she said it.

  “I will expend my best efforts.”

  “Go to hell.”

  “It saddens me that you would make this so difficult, Lady Cwan. What would you prefer? Would you prefer to provoke the alternative? The tragic, untimely death of you, your sister-in-law, and your son? Because that is the only other way this is going to end.”

  “Maybe,” said Robin tightly, “that would be preferable. Preferable to whatever you and your cronies would twist Cwansi into.”

  “That is your decision to make. I trust that you are not making it lightly. But making it you most certainly are. Gentlemen, take the child. If she resists, kill her. If she resists too much, kill all of them.”

  The soldiers advanced, filling in the space in front of Tusari Gyn. Robin cursed to herself; she should have risked the shot at Tusari Gyn when she had the opportunity. Now he was blocked from view, and she was going to have to fire through the armored soldiers to get at him.

  Of course, she could also just shoot Cwansi…and Kalinda…and, for a finale, herself.

  Or…

  She thumbed a switch on the phaser, disarming the built-in safety. A sharp whine began to emerge from it, and the soldiers froze where they were. They looked at one another in confusion, uncertain what was happening. “What’s that noise?” came the voice of Tusari Gyn from behind them.

  “That,” Robin said with grim determination, “is the sound of a phaser set on overload. In short order, this entire area is going to be a crater. At least you won’t have to be concerned about your power vacuum, because you won’t be alive to worry about it.”

  “You’re bluffing,” said Tusari Gyn, but Robin welcomed the uncertainty in his voice.

  “Try me. Please. I’m begging you to.”

  For a long moment, nothing was said. No one moved. The only thing filling the air was the increasing whine of the phaser moving toward an explosive discharge.

  “Kill her,” said Tusari Gyn. “Shoot her in the head, get the phaser, shut it down, and take the child.”

  They leveled their weapons. Robin glared directly into the barrels and spat in Tusari Gyn’s direction. The spittle fell well short, but at least she had made her feelings clear.

  There was a thunderous explosion, and Robin jumped reflexively at it, thinking that the phaser had detonated prematurely, thinking that the soldiers had opened fire on her, thinking all manner of things that she belatedly realized made no sense because she was alive to think them. Then she realized the soldiers were looking around for the source of the explosions and there was another ship right there, right above them. It had shown up out of absolutely nowhere, with no warning, gotten impossibly close to them and was now firing on them with abandon.

  The Boragi tried to fire upon the newcomer but it gave them no opportunity. Instead it continued to hammer down upon them, sending them flying in different directions. The Boragi had no trouble making a sneak attack with superior forces. Finding themselves assailed, however, they weren’t exactly Klingons shouting defiance while battling to the last man. Instead they scrambled over one another to get out of the way of the onslaught.

  The ambassador transport in which the Boragi had arrived was pummeled even as it fired up its engines and tried to lift off. It shuddered as the reverse thruster section blew off, sent spiraling and flaming through the air. The transport thudded back to the ground, helpless and crippled.

  Unsure of what was happening, but willing to wait to see the outcome, Robin powered down the phaser. She scrambled to her feet and walked through the blasts around her as if she were a ghost and they could not possibly harm her. Sprawled on the ground was Tusari Gyn, grasping his right leg, screaming. A piece of metal, still quivering, was embedded in it. He looked up at her, his typically sallow skin now the color of curdled milk.

  “You son of a bitch,” she said, barely recognizing her strangled voice as her own. It sounded like someone had a hand on her throat. “I should kill you right now.”

  “Don’t…please don’t…” He was sniveling at her. The sound of it made her ill and she was tempted to squeeze the trigger if for no other reason than that she wouldn’t have to listen to it anymore. “I…it was…I was just trying to…”

  “I know what you were trying to—”

  “Robin!”

  It was a male voice, a wholly unexpected male voice. She turned, the phaser still locked onto its target, and she saw Xyon standing not ten feet away. He was cradling Kalinda in his arms with no apparent strain. Since he had his father’s strength and Kalinda weighed about ninety pounds soaking wet, holding her thusly presented no problem. “Kill him or don’t kill him, I really don’t care one way or the other,” he said, “but make a decision and let’s go.”

  She looked back at Tusari Gyn. Then—and she had no idea why—she looked to the child that she clutched in her left arm. Cwansi gazed up at her with that same confident air that seemed wildly out of proportion to the size of the person he was.

  She turned aw
ay from Tusari Gyn then and headed for Xyon’s vessel. It was not a particularly large ship, but it would be enough to get her and Kalinda out of this hellhole.

  “Thank you, Lady Cwan!” Tusari Gyn called after her. “Thank you for your mercy! Thank you for—”

  Without bothering to look, she swung the phaser behind herself and fired off a shot. She heard Tusari Gyn let out a pained scream. She had no idea where she had struck him, nor did she care. As long as it was somewhere on his person, she was satisfied.

  The Lyla

  i.

  “The Lyla?” Robin glanced around the small vessel, stepping carefully over scattered objects such as stray shirts or half-eaten food. Xyon obviously hadn’t cleaned up after himself anytime recently. Xyon, for his part, kicked various obstacles in his path out of the way as he settled Kalinda into a chair near the helm. Kalinda looked up at him with a distantly puzzled gaze, as if she couldn’t quite determine whether he was genuinely there or if she was just imagining it. “Why the Lyla?”

  “Tell her why, Lyla,” said Xyon.

  A hologram appeared out of nowhere in the shape of an attractive blonde. “Hello. I’m Lyla,” she said. There was a lyrical note to her voice.

  “Um, hello,” said Robin uncertainly.

  “I am the artificial intelligence that runs this vessel. I serve Xyon in all of his needs.”

  Robin looked her up and down and there was a faint sound of derision in her tone as she said, “Oh, I bet you do.”

  “Hey!” Xyon said with annoyance. He had just finished strapping Kalinda into the chair. “If you’re going to be snide, you can feel free to just hop out and take your chances here.”

  She was about to fire back a rebuttal but quickly appreciated her delicate position. “I’m sorry,” she said contritely. “That was rude of me. To imply that you had…relations…with this hologram…”

  “Oh, we have,” said Lyla with a broad smile. “Oftentimes he asks me to make myself over so that I look like Kalinda.”

  Robin said nothing because she didn’t trust herself to. Xyon was an unpredictable individual. His interest in Kalinda was well-established, but he was perfectly capable of tossing Robin and Cwansi off the ship and departing without them. So instead of replying, she bit her lower lip and looked away, keeping her thoughts to herself.

  “Smart move,” said Xyon as if he had read her mind. “Find someplace to grab hold of something. We’re leaving.”

  He dropped into the pilot’s chair and didn’t bother to snap in the restraints as he had with Kalinda. Robin glanced around, looking for someplace to sit. Not seeing any, and having no desire to go into the rear quarters and flop down into Xyon’s bed, she sat on the floor, curling up her legs and clutching Cwansi tightly to her breast.

  The ship fired its thrusters and, seconds later, was hurtling toward space. The manor was illuminated on the ship’s main screen, but in no time at all it had dwindled to an insignificant size. Shortly, the place where she had spent the last several years of her life was just part of a landmass on the surface of the planet.

  “You have a cloaking device?”

  He glanced toward her in surprise. Of all the things he had expected her to say, that obviously wasn’t one of them. “Yes. I have to be careful in its use. It’s an energy drain.”

  “Where did you get it?”

  “Connections.”

  “And…why did you come to New Thallon? Just to visit?”

  “I came because my father asked me to. He was worried about Kalinda. He said she was becoming disconnected or something like that and asked if I’d come and look in on her. It was blind luck that I happened to show up just when those bastards were attacking you. If I’d arrived only a few minutes later…” His voice trailed off and then he turned his attentions to Kalinda, reaching over and tentatively stroking her arm. “Kally? Do you know where you are? Do you know who I am?”

  She had been staring off into air, but now she turned and looked straight at him with a faint air of incredulity. “Do you think I’m mentally impaired in some way, Xyon?”

  He laughed in spite of the seriousness of the situation. “No. No, I don’t. I was just…I wanted to make sure you were all right.”

  “Obviously I am,” she said with great patience.

  “All right. Now I know.”

  “And now that you know, are you planning to turn around and take me back home?”

  She made it sound as if it was the most reasonable notion in the world. Xyon and Robin exchanged looks. For the first time that day, Cwansi whimpered slightly, as if he understood what Kalinda suggested and was appalled by the notion. It was Robin who said, “Kally…I don’t think it would be the wisest option for us to go back right now. Do I need to explain why?”

  “No” said Kalinda after a moment, and she sounded saddened but also resigned. “No…I saw what they did. They wanted to take Cwansi. We can’t allow that. Si Cwan doesn’t want that.”

  “No, he doesn’t,” said Xyon, obviously not the least bit thrown by Kalinda’s referring to her dead brother in the present tense. He had evidently become accustomed to that particular quirk in her personality. “So that more or less leaves you women homeless at the moment.”

  “What should we do?” said Kalinda, sounding blessedly cognizant of the difficulties that lay before them. That was a relief to Robin, since Kalinda tended to be inconsistent in that regard.

  “We contact my father,” Xyon said. “He’s the one who pulled me into the middle of this mess in the first place. I thought I was just coming to lend some aid and comfort to Kalinda. I didn’t know I was going to wind up giving sanctuary to a couple of political refugees.”

  “A trio,” Robin corrected him.

  “What?”

  “You forgot him,” and she nodded toward her son. “Of the three of us, he’s the one that matters the most.”

  “Sorry, kid,” said Xyon, and then amended it to, “Sorry, your highness.”

  Cwansi made a pbbthhh noise and drool dripped from his mouth.

  “I’m not sure if that means he accepts your apology or not,” said Robin.

  ii.

  On the viewscreen of the Lyla, Mackenzie Calhoun listened to everything that Xyon and Robin told him about what had happened on New Thallon. Kalinda contributed nothing to the conversation, although she did smile gently every now and then whenever her name was mentioned.

  “Well,” Calhoun said finally once they had finished the tale. “It appears we have a bit of a situation on our hands.”

  “I’m sorry to have put you into it, Captain.”

  “Why in the gods’ names are you apologizing to me, Robin? You haven’t put me into anything. It’s the people who were willing to step over your dead body to get to your son who have created this situation.”

  “I’m not entirely sure Starfleet is going to see it that way.”

  “You let me worry about Starfleet.”

  “You never worry about Starfleet. You just do whatever the hell you want and leave Starfleet to like it or lump it.”

  “I see your time away from us hasn’t diminished your memory of my command style,” he said with what sounded like a touch of pride.

  “You’re unforgettable, Captain. So…what do we do?”

  “Let me do some research and get back to you in about fifteen minutes.”

  Fourteen minutes and fifty-three seconds later, Calhoun was back on the screen, scratching his chin thoughtfully. “To be honest, Robin, we have the makings of an interstellar incident here. The Council is the ruling authority of the New Thallonian Protectorate. The child is a citizen of the Protectorate. And you have no legal standing whatsoever.”

  “That’s ridiculous. I’m the Prime Minister.”

  “That’s what they’ve been calling you, yes, but purely as a matter of form. Nor does it mean anything insofar as Thallonian law goes. According to that law, if an off-worlder marries a Thallonian, she has limited legal status as a citizen for as long as the marriage
continues. If the marriage ends, the status of citizen doesn’t stay with the off-world partner.”

  “My marriage didn’t ‘end.’ My husband was murdered!”

  “Till death do you part. There’s no distinction made based on the nature of a marriage’s end; just the fact of it.”

  “Wait…” It was almost more than she could grasp. “Are you telling me that, according to Thallonian law, the Protectorate has more right to raise my child than I do?”

  “Basically, yes.”

  “Who the hell wrote that stupid law?”

  “Your late husband.”

  Robin felt as if she’d been hit in the face with a brick. “Oh,” was all she managed to say.

  “In his defense, he probably didn’t write it; just signed off on it. Furthermore, I doubt he was thinking about any offspring of his own. It was clearly a politically motivated law designed to—”

  “I don’t give a damn what the motivation was!” she said angrily, and then reined herself in. “Sorry, Captain. I…had no business shouting…”

  “It’s all right,” he assured her. “It’s an understatement to say that you have a lot on your mind. Xyon, are you clear of New Thallonian space?”

  “Crossed over the border about twenty minutes ago. Doesn’t mean they won’t try to follow us,” and he shrugged, “but if they do, I’ll give them the slip. I’m good at that.”

  “Yes, I remember. All right: If we get involved, the Protectorate is going to sell it to Starfleet that you’re kidnapping a Thallonian citizen of royal blood. If we provide aid and comfort, it’s tantamount to an act of war.”

  “They’re going to accuse me of kidnapping my own child?” Her head was whirling with the thought.

  “That’s exactly right. So if I take you in here on the Excalibur…”

  “Captain, I fully understand where you’re going with this. If you don’t want to stick your head into the noose—”