by Peter David
Is that normal? I thought everyone in Starfleet is always looking for ways of climbing up the ladder of command. Here I’m doing exactly that and all I can think of is, “Why am I on the ladder at all?”
S/he stepped onto the turbolift and was surprised to see that Robin Lefler was in it. “Bridge.” Lefler was rubbing her eyes and smiled graciously at Burgoyne. “Rough night?” asked Burgoyne as the doors slid closed and the turbolift began to rise.
“Cwansi kept waking up. I hope he’s not coming down with something.”
“Was he sneezing? Coughing? Feverish?” When she shook her head, Burgoyne continued, “Then I’m sure he’s fine. He’s in daycare?”
“Yes.”
“They’ll summon you if any symptoms pop up.”
“I’m sure they will, Captain.”
Burgy’s face darkened. “Damn it, Robin . . .”
“Sorry. Commander. Sorry,” Robin said quickly.
Burgy rolled hir eyes. “I wish people would stop calling me that.” Then s/he looked at Lefler. “What?”
“Permission to speak freely.”
“Oh, for God’s sake, of course you can speak freely. I’m still me. I’m still Burgoyne.”
“That’s the problem, you’re not,” Lefler told hir. “You’re the captain of this vessel, whether you are willing to accept that or not. So you shouldn’t—and I say this with all possible respect—you shouldn’t take people’s heads off if they slip up and call you that.”
“Our captain is on Bravo Station and is ready to resume his duties.”
Lefler’s eyes widened. “Really?”
“Definitely. We’re going to head off and get him right now.”
“Well, that’s . . . that’s wonderful news. You must be relieved.”
“You cannot imagine.”
The turbolift slid to a halt, and the doors opened. Burgoyne strode out, and Zak Kebron called from his station, “Captain on the bridge.”
There was a startled gasp from everyone else on the bridge as Burgy’s head snapped around and s/he stared furiously at Kebron. But the oversized Brikar simply said, “I figured this was my last opportunity to say it.”
For an instant Burgoyne considered the option of laying into Kebron for addressing hir by the one title that s/he despised. But then, in a response that was surprising even to Burgy hirself, s/he laughed. As s/he did so, the rest of the crew immediately relaxed. “I suppose it is,” s/he said. Then she turned to the science officer. “Xy?”
“Commander,” Xy said immediately, standing up behind the science station.
“I hope you’ve finished your survey of Aurelius IV.” S/he nodded toward the planet that was on the viewscreen, rotating beneath them.
“I have. There are some additional geologic follow-ups that I could do, but they are of no immediate importance. They can certainly wait.”
“I’m glad to hear that. Lieutenant Tobias . . .”
Tania Tobias, at the flight control station, turned to hir. “Yes, Commander?”
“Plot us a course for Bravo Station. Let’s go retrieve the captain.”
“Yes, sir,” said Tobias, happy to implement the order. “Course plotted and laid in.”
Burgoyne started to settle into the command chair, but then caught hirself. Instead s/he stepped aside and took hir place in the first officer’s chair. Everyone on the bridge noticed and, as one, they smiled. All of them were well aware of how difficult the past months had been for Burgy, and were aware that s/he had sat in the command chair only because it was expected. With the prospect of Calhoun returning, however, s/he was clearly happy to reassume hir role of first officer. In fact, clearly s/he couldn’t wait for it.
“Prepare to take us out. Warp factor five.”
“Aye, Commander. Warp factor fi—”
“Commander,” Lefler interrupted, and there was concern in her voice. “We’re being approached by a vessel. Coming in very quickly.”
Naturally this was enough to concern Burgoyne. “Weapons hot?” s/he asked. “Is it in attack mode?”
“No, Commander. But it definitely wants our attention.”
“Well, it’s got it.”
And then Kebron spoke up. “I know this ship. It’s Xyon.”
“Xyon? Captain Calhoun’s son?”
“Unless someone has stolen his ship, yes.” He glanced at his instruments. “And now I’m getting an incoming hail.”
“Put it on-screen,” said Burgoyne.
The viewscreen flickered for a moment, and then Xyon’s face appeared. Burgoyne hadn’t had any idea of what to expect. It was impossible to predict Xyon. He had acted heroically on many an occasion, but he had also nearly started a war when he kidnapped Kalinda—the sister of the late Si Cwan—on her wedding day. And from what Burgy understood, his last departure from his father had been under less than auspicious conditions. He had blamed Calhoun for the death of the Xenexians and had sworn revenge.
Then again . . . hadn’t Calhoun blamed himself as well? Like father, like son.
Yet Xyon did not seem especially threatening at the moment. His hair was still blond and even longer than it had been before. Did he never get it cut? “Hello, Burgy,” he said conversationally, as if they had randomly run into each other at a restaurant. “It’s been a while.”
“Indeed it has,” Burgy said cautiously. “How did you know we were here?”
“Your orders from Starfleet sent you here. If one knows where to look in the Starfleet computer system, it isn’t that difficult to find.”
“I’m sure Starfleet will be thrilled to know you have access to their database. If you’re looking for your father, he’s not here.”
“Actually, I’m not. I’m looking for Kalinda. I wanted to come aboard and speak to her.”
“You can speak to her from there,” said Tobias, and then immediately clamped her hand over her mouth. “Sorry,” she muttered between her fingers.
“Why do you need to come aboard?” asked Burgoyne.
“Because it’s better to talk to someone in person than over a communications device. I swear, Burgy, I have no ulterior motive. Five minutes of her time, that’s all I want.”
“We’ll discuss it,” said Burgoyne.
“Good,” said Xyon, and his image vanished from the viewscreen.
Tania Tobias turned and stared with incredulity at Burgy. “We’ll discuss it? Why are we going to do that?”
“Because it’s not my decision to make. It’s Kalinda’s.”
“No, it’s yours.”
Burgy ignored her and instead tapped hir combadge. “Kalinda, this is Burgoyne. We have a bit of a situation.”
“Yes, Commander?” Her voice, ethereal as always, floated over the badge.
“Xyon is here, and he wants to speak with you in person for five minutes. What are your feelings on that?”
There was the briefest of pauses, and then she said, “I would like that very much.”
Tobias made an irritated noise that Burgy chose to ignore. “Are you in your quarters?”
“Yes.”
“Wait there. We’ll bring him down. And a guard will remain outside your door.” S/he clicked off the communications device and said, “Beam Xyon into the main transporter room, and have a security squad escort him down. The moment he’s aboard, I want all shields up so that he can’t beam out without our say-so. Is that clear?”
“Yes, Commander,” said Kebron.
“Kebron, five minutes. I want the timer started the second that he’s alone with Kalinda. Also make sure to scan him to be certain that he doesn’t have any explosive devices with him.”
“Do you seriously believe he might try to kill Kalinda?”
“Seriously? I believe anything,” said Burgoyne. “I like to think that’s why I’m still alive.”
&
nbsp; ii.
KALINDA SAT ON the edge of the bed in her quarters . . . well, their quarters, technically. Tania’s and hers. Tania had invited her to move in and Kalinda had happily accepted her generosity.
She had not seen, or even sensed, her brother, Si Cwan, in quite some time. In fact, she had not sensed any dead spirits in a while. Kalinda wasn’t entirely sure if she should feel relieved or not. She wanted to take it as a sign that her soul had somehow evolved so that she was more readily prepared to live her life in the real world. On the other hand, knowing that Cwan was there, watching out for her, watching over her . . . she had drawn genuine peace from that. It was comforting to have proof positive that there was more to this existence than that which readily presented itself. Certainly, she had faced the prospect of death a number of times in her relatively short life. Kalinda found it reassuring to know that, if she did indeed die, there was something else waiting for her, and her beloved brother would certainly be the first one to greet her.
This was not a mindset that wore especially well with Tania. She disliked the prospect of death to the point where, if someone even brought it up casually, Tania would do everything she could to change the subject and shut down the discussion, including simply getting up and walking away. Kalinda had quickly learned to keep her opinions about death to herself.
There was a knock at the door. “Come in.”
The door slid open. She had a clear view of two security officers standing on either side of Xyon. He didn’t seem bothered by their presence at all. He nodded to them as if bidding good-bye to old friends and then stepped in. The doors hissed shut behind him.
He strolled around the perimeter of the room, taking care to come no closer to Kalinda than he already was. “Hello, Kally.”
“Hello, Xyon.”
“It’s good to see you. You’re looking well. Actually, you’re looking fantastic. I love the dress.”
She was wearing a simple white shift that she had brought with her from New Thallon. Still, the material was quite different, iridescent in the cabin’s light. “Thank you. You also look well, although I think your hair is a bit too long.”
“Yes, well . . .” He laughed offhandedly. “I probably could use a trim.”
“So”—she clapped her hands on her thighs—“what can I do for you?”
He stopped by her dresser and leaned against it. “You heard what happened to Xenex, I assume?”
“Yes.” Lowering her voice, Kalinda said, “I was so very sorry to hear about it. It must have been terrible for you.”
“It was. Look, I’ll be honest with you, Kally: I never gave Xenex much thought once I left it. I saw myself more as a citizen of the galaxy than a Xenexian. But now I’m effectively the last Xenexian of breeding age. If any aspect of my race is to survive, even as half-breeds, then it’s up to me to at least keep Xenexian chromosomes in the great, I don’t know . . . galactic mix.”
“Well,” said Kalinda uncertainly, “I wish you the best of luck with that.”
“I wasn’t looking for your best wishes, Kally. I was looking for you. Listen,” he continued quickly, “I know our relationship has been up and down, to say the least. But the simple fact is that I’ve never felt about any girl the way I do about you. And”—to Kalinda’s amazement, he dropped to one knee—“I was hoping that circumstances have changed matters so that you would be willing to marry me.”
Kalinda stared at him, her eyes wide. “You are serious.”
“Very much so.”
“So that I can help to repopulate your race.”
“So that I don’t have to spend the rest of my life alone.”
She closed her eyes then and turned from him. “Xyon . . . I am truly flattered by your proposal. But things have changed. I have changed.”
“It’s that Tobias woman, isn’t it,” said Xyon. There was no anger in his voice; his words were flat and even.
“She is certainly part of it, yes. I’m just . . . I’m not the same girl I was when you . . .”
She started to rise from her bed, but Xyon put a hand out. “No,” he said sharply. “Just . . . stay there, all right?” Gripping the underside of her table to give him support, he rose to his feet. He composed himself once standing. “Thank you for seeing me. I wish you all the best in your life.”
“Xyon, I wish you didn’t have to—”
She fell silent as he put up a hand. “It’s okay, Kally. Believe it or not, I knew this was a long shot. You’ve moved on, that’s fine. I suppose it’s time that I finally moved on, too. I’ll always think fondly of you.”
“Thank you, Xyon. That’s very kind of you.”
“You made me a better person, Kally. That’s something that will stick with me.”
The doors slid open, and one of the security guards stepped in. “That’s five minutes,” he said. There was something in his voice that seemed to suggest he’d welcome the opportunity for a fight if Xyon refused to leave.
“Good timing,” said Xyon. “We just finished.” He walked toward the security officer, then turned to face Kalinda and actually bowed deeply. “Farewell, princess.”
“Good-bye, Xyon.”
He turned and left without another word.
iii.
TOBIAS LET OUT a sigh of relief as Xyon’s ship angled away. Kalinda was standing next to her, a hand resting lightly on Tania’s shoulder.
“So he wanted you to marry him and fly off with him?” said Burgoyne, still trying to process it.
“That is what he said,” said Kalinda. “He seemed quite sincere about it. I turned him down and he departed. That was the entire encounter.”
“Good thing,” rumbled Kebron. “As commanding officer, Burgoyne, it would have fallen to you to perform the ceremony.”
“Great. Something else for me to worry about,” said Burgoyne with a definite lack of enthusiasm.
“It’s nothing you have to worry about, because I said no,” Kalinda reminded hir.
“And he didn’t seem bothered by that?” said Kebron.
Burgoyne turned to the Brikar. “Something wrong, Zak?”
“Xyon never struck me as someone who simply took something not going his way in stride, that’s all,” said Kebron. “It just makes me wonder.”
“Wonder what?”
“Whether he in fact expected her to turn him down. Whether this was all some ploy simply so that he could see her.”
“And then what? Kidnap her? She’s standing right here. We ran a scan on his vessel before he departed and his was only life-form on it.”
“I know.” Kebron shook his head, which, since he had no neck, effectively meant that he had to turn the entire upper half of his body from side to side. “I’m probably being paranoid.”
“Well, as it turns out, paranoia is in your job description.” Burgoyne watched as Xyon’s vessel dwindled into the depths of space. “At this point, I think we have no choice other than to accept Xyon’s visit for what he says it was: a last-ditch attempt to perpetuate his race. Let’s wish him luck.”
“Yes, Commander.”
She brought back up the coordinates and entered them. “Warp five engaged, Commander.”
“Take us out.”
The Excalibur hurtled into warp space . . .
. . . and the tracking device that Xyon had slipped on the underside of Kalinda’s dressing table tapped out its locator sequence, undetected.
Bravo Station
i.
“IF YOU’RE PLANNING to slap me, please give me a warning so I can brace myself,” said Calhoun.
Burgoyne stepped down off the transporter pad, took several quick steps forward, and threw hir arms around Calhoun, nearly knocking the wind out of him. Shelby was smiling nearby as she commented, “Not exactly regulation procedure, Commander.”
“Yes, right, sorry,” said
Burgoyne, taking the words at their literal meaning. S/he quickly stepped back and nodded, assuming the at-rest position with hir hands tucked behind hir back. “Returning command of the Excalibur to you, Captain.”
“I’m sure you kept her intact for me,” said Calhoun. “Come with me to the conference room, and we’ll get you current with the situation.”
Minutes later they were grouped around a large, round table. Burgoyne looked at it with vague envy. “We could command the forces of Camelot from this,” s/he observed.
“Indeed we could.”
The doors slid open and Burgy’s eyes widened when s/he saw Soleta enter. She was back in her Romulan clothing and moving with such normalcy there was no way for Burgy to know that her legs were still healing. “Soleta!” s/he said and moved quickly toward her.
Soleta halted hir in hir path by raising a hand. “I am not much for hugging,” she said coolly.
“Yes. Of course. Sorry. Normally I’m not either. Not quite sure what’s wrong with me.”
“You can hug me if you like.”
Slowly Burgoyne turned and stared in shock at Mark McHenry standing just behind Soleta. “After all, we did date for a while,” he reminded hir.
“My God,” said Burgoyne, and this time s/he hugged hir target, who hugged hir back. “I don’t believe it! Where did you come from? How is this possible?”
“It’s not really that big a deal, Burgy,” said McHenry. “I simply came back, stopped the captain from making a huge mistake that would possibly have ended life as you know it in the galaxy, and then brought Soleta back to consciousness when nobody else could do it. I’m kind of like a half–deus ex machina. But I didn’t think anyone would complain.”
“No, of course no one would . . .” Hir voice trailed off, and s/he turned to Calhoun in confusion. “Ended life as we know it?”