by Peter David
Calhoun strolled down to the middle of the chamber, where the table was set up that had Si Cwan and Fhermus in physical opposition to each other. Fhermus’s jaw was looking a bit swollen, but it had been set back into place. If looks could kill, Calhoun would have been dead the moment he entered the chamber. Calhoun winked at Fhermus, which caused Fhermus to tremble silently with rage. Si Cwan’s gaze flickered from one to the other, taking in the reaction, but he said nothing.
Calhoun stepped down to table level, taking up a point at the far end from Si Cwan and Fhermus. Then he announced, “Kalinda has been found.”
There were sharp intakes of breath from all around him, and Si Cwan leaned forward. “Alive?”
“Alive. Well. Unharmed. She’s aboard the Trident and on her way back here even as we speak. My guess is that they’re traveling at maximum warp speed, so she should be here shortly.”
All those breaths were exhaled simultaneously in relief and Si Cwan actually extended a hand to Calhoun. “That is superb news, Captain. Well done. Well done indeed,” and he shook Calhoun’s hand firmly.
“Yes, well done,” grumbled Fhermus, who made no endeavor to extend the hand of friendship to Calhoun. “The father has mended the sins of the son.”
“I would not dispute that,” Calhoun said.
“Where was she?”
“She was on Priatia, Prime Minister.”
Immediately there was an uproar from within the council chamber, fists slamming on the round tables, representatives trying to bellow above one another to make themselves heard. Although the specific words were different from the representatives, the sentiment was consistent, and that was that the entire planet of Priatia should be reduced to free-floating chunks.
It was with great effort that Calhoun managed to shout the assemblage down, and then it was only with the aid of another one of Kebron’s earsplitting bellows that everyone shut up. As they rubbed their ears in pain, Calhoun said calmly, “My understanding is that the theft of Kalinda was a stunt undertaken by a radical fringe group who saw an opportunity and seized it. Upon the Trident showing up, a government official volunteered her whereabouts with no prompting and aided Captain Mueller in extracting Kalinda from the planet. The vast majority of the people of Priatia knew nothing of this, and those in charge seized the very first opportunity given them to make it right. Take my opinion for what it’s worth, but I see little point exacting revenge upon the population of a world that is almost entirely blameless. The Priatian government is seeing to the renegades who undertook this endeavor, and I suggest you allow them to handle it internally.”
“I see your point, Captain,” Si Cwan said thoughtfully. “Punishment and revenge is of far less interest to me than the safe return of my sister. I should think you feel the same in regards to your future daughter-in-law, do you not, Lord Fhermus?”
Slowly, Fhermus nodded. “The Priatians are of little interest to me. They are a relic of a time long past, and their incessant bleating over wrongs that are—at best—ancient history, is tedious to me. I would just as soon not give them new excuses to complain that they were ill used. However,” and he raised his voice slightly, “that does not address the matter of your son, Calhoun. The Priatians may have seized an opportunity, but it was Xyon who provided it to them. There must be punishment.”
“There must…be punishment?” There was a strong hint of danger in Calhoun’s tone. “He was extensively tortured for information after providing all he knew. I would think that qualifies as punishment, don’t you.”
“Not enough. Not nearly enough.”
“You stabbed my son, Lord Fhermus,” Calhoun reminded him. “If you were interested in having a personal hand in retribution, you’ve done so.”
“And he stabbed the honor of my House to its heart!”
From the back of the room, Kebron called, “Captain…permission to offer extended critique on the excessive melodrama inherent in that pronouncement.”
Desperately missing the old, taciturn Kebron, Calhoun said, “Denied,” before continuing, “I have found, Lord Fhermus, that clinging to vengeance is much like riding a horse that chases nothing but its own tail. It doesn’t take much of a wise rider to know when to dismount.”
“So you say,” snarled Fhermus, “and yet you cannot deny that you struck me in order to gain revenge upon me for my having stabbed your son!”
“I cannot deny that, no.”
“Well, then—?!”
Calhoun shrugged. “I’m an enigma.”
Fhermus began to sputter, particularly when—to his obvious annoyance—several members of the council snickered in response to Calhoun. Before he could say anything else, however, Si Cwan interceded.
“What would you suggest, Captain?” he asked in measured tone. “That Xyon be turned over to you and you leave Thallonian space with him?”
Fhermus’s eyes widened upon hearing that, and he turned toward Si Cwan. “You know where he is! You could not speak of turning him over if you didn’t have him! You know where he is!”
“It may have come to my attention,” Si Cwan said.
“Where is he? The offense against my House—!”
“Is secondary to the offense against mine,” interrupted Si Cwan, towering over Fhermus. “Granted, your son was ill used. But it was my sister who was kidnapped and exposed to all manner of danger. If anyone is in a position to take umbrage and hold the fate of Xyon in his hand, I am. And if, in my opinion, it will best serve all concerned to put an end to this affair with minimal acrimony, then that’s what will be done.”
“You do not have that right!”
Si Cwan drew himself up to his full height, gaining what seemed another six inches on Fhermus. “I am Lord Si Cwan of the House of Cwan, Prime Minister of the New Thallonian Protectorate, and I have every right to do what can and should be done.”
“Prime Minister,” Calhoun said, weighing every word carefully, “allow me to take my son and depart. I give you my personal assurance that he will not return to Thallonian space.”
“And if he does?” demanded Fhermus.
“He will not,” Calhoun said with assurance, “but if he should, you have my full permission to kill him.”
“I do not need your permission to kill that criminal!” Fhermus retorted.
There was a pause and then Calhoun leaned toward him and said, “Right now…at this moment…you very much do.” Fhermus bristled, but said nothing.
Quiet hung over the chamber like a shroud.
“I see no point in having this be a protracted affair,” Si Cwan said at last. “The criminal Xyon will be turned over to Captain Calhoun,” and when voices of the council members began to rise in protest, Si Cwan spoke over them with little effort, “if for no other reason than that—thanks to Calhoun’s actions, and those of his fellow captain—Kalinda is being restored to her people and her fiancé. That is all that matters to me. We may place a burden of blame upon Xyon, but Xyon’s father has balanced the scales. For that, I am indebted, and in that, I am content. This is not a decision for the council to make, but for me. And if any here have a problem with that,” and he swept the chamber with a fierce glare, “I challenge them to bring it to me and we shall settle it in the traditional and brutal manner of my family. Are there any takers?”
The members looked at one another, each silently prompting someone else to make the first move. No one did, which was very likely exactly what Si Cwan expected.
“Lord Fhermus,” said Si Cwan, after it became apparent that no one was going to take him up on his offer. “I believe we have a wedding to plan …?”
“So it would seem,” Fhermus said, still looking none too pleased, but clearly ready to let the matter drop.
“Then we are adjourned,” said Si Cwan.
Calhoun let out a low whistle of relief as the assemblage began to rise from their seats. “Well…that was fairly painless,” he said.
“Not everything is settled with a fistfight, Calhoun,” Si C
wan told him.
“Yes, I know,” sighed Calhoun. “Then again, no one ever said we live in a perfect world.”
ii.
“I don’t want to leave.”
Xyon’s pronouncement didn’t exactly startle Calhoun, but it was still the last thing he needed to hear. They were standing in the holosuite, just the two of them. It was still in the image of a sickbay, but Morgan had made herself scarce. Much of the healing had already been performed upon Xyon’s battered frame, but there were still some bruises that would take longer to disappear than others. He had stepped down from the diagnostic bed and was pulling on his shirt.
“You don’t have a choice in that, Xyon,” Calhoun told him. “The only choice you get is this: Either I instruct the Excalibur to beam you up right now, or else I walk you out to your ship, you take off, and park yourself in our shuttle bay. And don’t even think about trying to run for it, because I’ve taken the liberty of having your cloak disabled and I assure you that your engines, on their best day, won’t be able to shake off our tractor beams.”
“You sabotaged my ship!” Xyon exclaimed. “Where do you get off—?”
“Where do I get off?” Calhoun was incredulous. “Xyon, do you have the slightest clue of the magnitude of the break you’ve received? Of the luck you’ve had?”
“Luck! The girl I love is marrying someone else, and I was tortured!”
“You won’t be the first man to lose his woman, and I daresay not the last. And as for torture,” Calhoun continued, his voice dripping with sarcasm, “what you suffered physically is the slightest taste of what I and everyone who cared for you suffered mentally when you chose to hide your status from us. We thought you were dead, Xyon, and you left it that way.”
“I did what I thought best.”
“You did what you thought convenient, and don’t pretend it was anything else.”
“Spare me, Father. As if you really gave a damn whether I lived or died—”
And Calhoun took two quick steps forward, grabbed Xyon by the front of his shirt, and slammed him up against the wall so hard it shook. Xyon was frozen in shock and fear at the pure fury he saw in his father’s eyes. “Don’t you ever,” said Calhoun, his voice trembling with rage, “question my love for you.”
Xyon looked down at the grip his father had on him. “You have a funny way of showing it.”
Barely managing to rein in his anger, Calhoun said, “I’m a funny guy.” Then he stepped back, releasing Xyon, who stumbled slightly before regaining his footing.
They regarded each other with suspicion for a moment, and it was Xyon who dropped his gaze first. “Just…so you don’t get the wrong idea…I appreciate whatever it was you did to get me out of here, and to find Kalinda. I guess…that is the most important thing.”
“You ‘guess’?”
“All right, it is the most important thing, okay?”
“Good. As long as you realize that.”
There was another long pause, and then Xyon said, “You know…I kind of missed you, even if you are an ass.”
“I’ll try to keep my ego from swelling over such effusive praise. So…transporter or your ship?”
“My ship, provided you don’t think we’ll be ambushed along the way by—oh, I don’t know—Kally’s irate fiancé.”
“I doubt that will happen.”
They walked out of the holosuite and Robin Lefler was waiting for them. “You’re looking much improved,” she said.
“You saved my life,” Xyon said simply.
“I don’t think that’s the case,” she replied. “But if you want to tell me I made it a little less uncomfortable, I’ll accept that.”
“What did this cost you, Robin?” asked Calhoun.
“Pardon? Cost me, Captain?”
“Cost you. With Si Cwan. You can’t fool me, Robin. You did this behind his back. But he obviously figured it out; he’s not stupid.”
“Yes, so I discovered,” she admitted.
“So what was the cost? How angry was he? Did it hurt your marriage?”
“Captain,” Robin sighed, “with all respect…that’s none of your business.”
“I tend to think it is.”
“Well, the nice thing is, you’re no longer my CO, which means I get to tell you when I think you’re wrong,” she said.
He smiled slightly. “Odd. I’ve had any number of people who were, and are, under my command and never have any trouble telling me they think I’m wrong.”
“Funny how that works.”
“Hilarious.” He put a hand on her shoulder. “Do you want me to talk to Si Cwan about—”
“That,” she told him, patting his hand with hers, “is just about the worst thing you could possibly do. It’ll work out. These things always do. My best advice right now is that you take your son and go.”
“All right. I’m going to break protocol now.”
“What—?”
He reached around and gave her a quick, non-Starfleet hug. “Take care, Robin.”
“You too, sir.”
“Thank you again,” said Xyon. Calhoun noticed he was walking with a bit of a limp. He hoped it would smooth out in time.
“Stay out of trouble.”
“That’s part of my plan.”
“Come…I’ll walk you to the landing port where your ship is.”
“Why?” asked Xyon.
“To help you stay out of trouble,” Robin told him. “That’s part of my plan.”
New Thallon/U.S.S. Trident
i.
As Robin escorted them to the field, she couldn’t help but wonder what, indeed, this entire business had cost her. She hoped the price, whatever it was, wouldn’t be too high…and couldn’t help but worry that it would be.
She wasn’t at all surprised that Zak Kebron fell into step beside them shortly after departing the holosuite. Clearly Calhoun wasn’t about to take any chances, and if one was looking for someone to run interference against potential enemies, Kebron was the walking brick wall to do it.
“You’ve changed, Kebron,” Xyon observed as they walked through the halls, heading for the exit that would take them to the private landing field. “Your color looks different, and you seem more…I don’t know…relaxed, maybe?”
“I was never what you would call ‘tense,’ ” Kebron replied. “I am, however, far more at peace with my essence.”
“You also talk more. And stranger.”
“I have no idea how to react to that. Fortunately for both of us, I don’t care all that much, either.” He glanced around warily. It was always easy to tell when Kebron was looking around. Since he had no neck to speak of, his entire torso would swivel. “I wonder if Si Cwan is going to see us off.”
“I suppose anything is possible,” Calhoun said.
“He will.” Xyon sounded exceedingly ominous in making that prediction.
Robin regarded him warily. “I very much doubt my husband is going to try and cause trouble at this late date,” she said.
“You’re probably right. But somehow I think the House of Fhermus isn’t quite done with me, and I can’t help but surmise that Si Cwan will be part of it.”
Robin wasn’t sure what to make of that. She could only hope that Xyon would be completely wrong in his assessment.
As it turned out, he was entirely right.
This realization caught up with Robin when they were approaching the landing field and saw a small group walking toward them with the kind of determination that said this was to be no chance encounter. Naturally she recognized Si Cwan among the group almost immediately. And, sure enough, there was Fhermus. And Tiraud. And several guards.
And Kalinda.
Obviously the Trident had more than done its job, getting her back to New Thallon in impressive time. The ship’s ability in that regard was not at all surprising to Robin Lefler.
What was surprising was the way that Xyon stared at the oncoming entourage, tilted his head slightly, and said, “Who’s that
with Tiraud?”
“What?” Calhoun glanced at his son. “What do you mean?”
“The girl? Who’s that…?” Then he stopped and stared. “Is that…Kalinda?”
“Of course it is,” Robin spoke up, wondering what in the world Xyon was playing at. “Of course it is. Who else would she be?”
“I…don’t know,” Xyon said, sounding utterly confused. “I just…I thought she…” He shook his head. “I…didn’t recognize her at first….”
“Not surprising,” said Kebron. “It undoubtedly has to do with the torture you endured. Since Kalinda was the impetus for it, it’s natural that you would come to associate her with—even blame her for—what you were subjected to. So encountering her now, you reject her because of the negative connotations her very presence creates for you.”
“You really think so?”
“That’s one possibility.”
“What’s another?”
“That I don’t know what I’m talking about.”
The two groups came to the inevitable face-to-face encounter. They stopped several feet away from each other, and Robin noticed that Tiraud was keeping one arm draped prominently around Kalinda. Robin couldn’t say that she was entirely impressed by his behavior. It was as if he was showing Kalinda off as some sort of trophy, or prize that he had snatched away from Xyon that he was now dangling in front of him. Nor did Kalinda seem to mind, as she snuggled against Tiraud and regarded Xyon with open suspicion. Xyon’s attitude was pure stoicism, however. He was obviously studying Kalinda closely, not deigning to give Tiraud even the slightest glance.
“Satisfied, offworlder?” demanded Tiraud. “She is with me now, not you. Not you. As you can see.”
“Yes, I can see, and yet you feel the need to tell me anyway,” said Xyon. He continued to stare at Kalinda. “Are you all right?” he asked her.
“I’m…fine, Xyon.” She had been meeting his gaze, but something in it clearly disturbed her and she looked down instead. “It’s…it’s all over. I think it’s time we both moved on.”