by Peter David
He rang the chime of Xyon's quarters, smoothing the front of his tunic as he waited to see if there was any response from within.
What he heard instead was the sound of whispered voices. And then a voice that was unmistakably Xyon's called out, "Go away! Come back later, okay?"
And there was a giggle. A female giggle. One that Si Cwan recognized instantly. How could he not? All those times out riding, when she was a little girl, and he would hear that same quick, light girlish laughter as they pounded across the surface of Thallon, secure in their nobility and future without a care in the world.
Before he was even aware of it, Si Cwan was shoving his fingers into the connection point where the doors fit together. Within moments he had a fingerhold, and that was all he needed. He grunted only once as he applied his considerable strength, and within moments had overridden the doorlock mechanism through the simple expedient of sheer muscle power. He shoved the doors open, stepped in …
… and saw exactly what he thought he was going to see.
Xyon, barechested, wearing only his slacks, the rest of his clothes scattered about the room. Next to him on the couch, wrapped around him in an embrace, was Kalinda. She was wearing considerably fewer clothes than Xyon. Only undergarments, and Si Cwan could tell from where Xyon's hands were that even those were not going to be adorning her for much longer.
"Si Cwan!" said an alarmed Kalinda. "Now … don't overreact. This isn't—that is to say, Xyon and I—"
"We don't owe him any explanation, Kally," Xyon said, starting to get to his feet. "We're two independent people, and don't have to answer to anyone or anything except our own conscience. And if Si Cwan doesn't understand all that—"
What Xyon didn't comprehend was that Si Cwan's lack of understanding didn't even factor into it. The fact was that he wasn't even hearing any of it. From the moment the door had opened, a haze of fury had descended upon his brain and shut out all words being tossed about with the exception of proper names. He heard his own name spoken by Kalinda. He heard her mention the hated name of Xyon. And he heard Xyon speak the affectionate nickname by which Si Cwan, and only Si Cwan, had addressed her since infancy. That was it. Everything else was swept away by rapidly escalating rage.
Xyon had always been confident in his fighting abilities. Granted, he had experienced a small setback when his father had handled him with relative ease. But since that brief and unfortunate encounter, he had told himself two things. First, that his father had caught him off guard. And second, for crying out loud, his father was M'k'n'zy of Calhoun, the savior of Xenex and the single most formidable warrior in the history of the planet. At least, that was what the legends claimed. Xyon knew he had great skills as a fighter himself, but he wasn't kidding himself. His father was legendary. Competing with a legend is a rather daunting proposition; he knew that, since to some degree he had been doing exactly that his entire life. So he didn't let himself become too disheartened over his quick and definitive loss to Calhoun.
But he was still confident that he could dispatch pretty much any other foe with precision and efficiency.
He had a feeling that Si Cwan might make a move on him. Certainly the Thallonian was angry enough. His eyes looked like they had glazed over, and his entire body was absolutely dead still and tense, pounding with contained energy. He was standing there in the doorway, having just forced it open with an impressive show of strength.
That was not enough, though, to deter Xyon. He was still confident that he could handle whatever situation presented itself, particularly one that involved some sort of physical conflict.
"I will further remind you, Si Cwan," said Xyon, "that these are my private quarters. You have no business here. So I will ask you to depart at once while Kally and I conduct ourselves as we see fit in the privacy of—"
That was as far as he got.
Later, he would review the incident over and over in his mind, and each time would come to the same conclusion. He had not, for a moment, taken his eyes off Si Cwan. His concentration had never flagged, he had never looked over to Kally in a moment of pride to see how he was doing as far as she was concerned. His focus had remained, unwaveringly, upon Si Cwan.
As a result, he would forever remain unable to explain just how it was that, one moment, Si Cwan was on the far side of the room, standing in the doorway, still unmoving, and the next, Si Cwan was across the room with one hand on the waist of Xyon's pants and the other hand around Xyon's throat. He never saw Si Cwan move. He was just … there.
The abrupt proximity of the enraged Thallonian was daunting enough. What further confused Xyon was just how Si Cwan had managed to get such a firm grip on him. Instinctively, he grabbed at Si Cwan's arm to try and pry it off, and was inwardly horrified to find that Si Cwan's arm was a collection of corded muscles that wasn't going to be moved short of the application of explosive devices.
"Si Cwan! Stop!" shouted Kalinda.
Si Cwan, however, was apparently just getting started. For with a quick turn, he threw Xyon straight at the temporarily broken door. Xyon hurtled through, unable to stop, and crashed into the opposite wall in the corridor.
Hands balled into fists, Si Cwan stalked toward him, about as easily deterred as a meteor shower. Xyon's head was spinning, and he knew he had only seconds to pull himself together, if that long.
Fortunately those seconds were provided for him as a passing crewman saw the situation developing and, apparently remembering that Xyon was the son of the captain, decided that the best thing to do would be to stop Si Cwan in his tracks. The crewman threw both his arms around Si Cwan's upper torso, momentarily pinning his arms, in an endeavor to stop him. It seemed to Xyon that the only reason the crewman got that close was because Si Cwan's entire attention was focused on Xyon. When he noticed that the crewman was holding him, he reacted with immediate dispatch. Barely seeming to flex his arms, he nonetheless broke the crewman's grasp, and without even turning to look at him, lashed out with a quick right hand. The blow caught the crewman on the side of the head and he went down.
It had been a delay of only moments, but it was sufficient time for Xyon to get back to his feet. Now Kalinda was behind Si Cwan, shouting to him, but he was seized with such a blind fury that he was paying no attention to her at all. Instead he lunged at Xyon, who got out of the way, but Si Cwan pivoted, cat quick, his hands weaving a fast and exotic pattern. Xyon's attention was drawn to the hand movements, which was apparently precisely what Si Cwan wanted, because he suddenly lashed out with his foot and caught Xyon squarely in the pit of the stomach. Xyon doubled over, gasping, and Si Cwan straightened him up with a blow to the chin that Xyon actually partly managed to dodge; if it had landed squarely, it would have broken Xyon's jaw.
Xyon was operating entirely on instinct, as he dodged this way and that, trying to stay out of Si Cwan's way while he recovered his wits. Si Cwan gave him no time to think at all, coming at him with a series of quick leg kicks. Xyon stayed out of their way, mostly by luck, while calculating a plan of attack, and then he launched it. When Si Cwan lashed out with a side kick, Xyon actually vaulted over it and came in fast with a series of lightning strikes to Cwan's head and upper torso.
He certainly launched the blows in a quick and efficient manner. The problem was, not a single one of them landed. With quick parries, Si Cwan brushed every one of them aside with his forearms. He did so in a manner so unhurried, so unruffled, that it was clear to Xyon that Si Cwan felt himself in no danger at all. He was about to take umbrage at that when a sudden leg sweep from Si Cwan knocked Xyon's feet out from under him. The young man fell again, hit the floor, and this time before he could try and stand up, Si Cwan's booted foot was squarely atop his rib cage.
"Si Cwan! Stop!" howled Kalinda, and she was pulling at his arm. But no matter how much she yanked at him, all she managed to budge was his arm. The rest of his body was so unaffected that one would have thought he was simply ignoring the fact that he had an arm at all, much less someone atta
ched to it.
Si Cwan started to apply pressure, and Xyon couldn't catch a breath. It was at that point that it truly began to dawn on him that he was in serious, mortal danger. Si Cwan was implacably fixed on doing him, presumably, sufficient damage to make sure that he never went near Kalinda again. At that point, however, Si Cwan's restraint was non-existent.
Suddenly, just like that, the pressure was gone from Xyon's chest. He gasped in lungsful of air and felt a sharp stabbing pain. He wondered if he had a broken rib.
Si Cwan was bellowing in fury, and small wonder. Zak Kebron was standing directly behind him, and he had lifted Cwan clear of not only Xyon, but the floor. Si Cwan pounded on the massive arms, snarling, "Release me! Right now!" but neither the blows nor the commands were having the least effect on Kebron, who held him in place and seemed about as vulnerable as a small mountain.
"Idiot," said Kebron.
And then, to Kebron's clear surprise, Si Cwan was no longer in his grip. Si Cwan had wiggled free, leaving Kebron grasping only his tunic. Dropping low, Si Cwan threw both his arms around Kebron's left leg, right at the joint of the knee, and pulled. The movement overbalanced Kebron, and Zak fell backward with a crash so pronounced that it caused reverberations throughout the entire deck.
Si Cwan spun once more …
… and Mackenzie Calhoun was there.
No one quite knew where he had come from, but he was simply there, standing between Xyon, who was just starting to get up, and the enraged Si Cwan. His arms at his sides, he looked utterly relaxed and totally undaunted by the Thallonian.
"Out of my way, Captain," Si Cwan grated.
"Move me," replied Calhoun.
Si Cwan took a step forward … and then his gaze locked with Calhoun's for a long moment … and then he took a step backward.
"Very wise," was all Calhoun said. Then, apparently having faith that Si Cwan would not attack someone whose back was to him, Calhoun very deliberately turned away from Si Cwan and extended a hand to Xyon. Xyon hesitated only a moment, then took the hand and allowed Calhoun to pull him up. He was surprised that Calhoun brought him to his feet with so little effort that Xyon might as well have weighed nothing. "Are you all right?" he asked.
"I'm fine," said Xyon stoically.
"Really." Calhoun looked him up and down as if he had x-ray eyes, and suddenly prodded the area of Xyon's chest where he had felt the sharpness. Xyon gasped, even though the pressure had been relatively gentle. "Go get that looked at," he said. "Sickbay. Now. Take her with you," he said, inclining his head toward Kalinda.
"I'm not hurt, Captain," she said.
"Yes, I know. I just think some distance will better serve all concerned. As would some additional clothes on your part."
She looked down and remembered that she was relatively scantily clad at that point. She nodded, darted into Xyon's quarters and re-emerged with her clothes hastily tossed onto her. By this point any number of curious crewmen had shown up and were standing there, gawking at the odd scene before them.
"Return to your quarters," Calhoun ordered them in the time-honored tradition of law enforcement officers throughout the centuries. "Nothing more to see here. Show's over. Lord Cwan … I invite you to return to your quarters and stay there."
"Are you confining me?" Si Cwan said stiffly.
"At this point, no. I am asking you to stay put. And if you ignore my request, then I will shoot you out the nearest photon torpedo tube. But I'm not confining you."
"I appreciate your consideration," said Si Cwan.
Kebron was on his feet by that time, and he was helping up the crewman whom Si Cwan had knocked down.
"You're damned right it's consideration. You just assaulted a crewman, my head of security, and my son. I could stick you in a cell until you're old and pink. And if anyone here wants to press charges, I won't stand in their way."
He looked around at the others. The crewman, Hudson by name, simply rubbed his jaw and said, "The sooner I forget about how easily he took me out, the better."
"What charges?" rumbled Kebron. "He got lucky, that's all."
"Funny how I always get lucky when we go head to head, isn't it, Kebron?" said Si Cwan.
"I wouldn't push my good fortune right now if I were you, Cwan," warned Calhoun. He turned to Xyon and said, "Well?"
Xyon rubbed his chest and then pulled on the shirt that Kalinda had handed him. "It's a private matter, sir," he said after a moment. "I regret that it spilled out into the corridor and involved others. It should not have. In any event, I see no reason to clutter your time, or anyone else's, with the fallout."
"Very well," said Calhoun. "Sickbay, then. Si Cwan, your quarters. The rest of you," and he gestured that they should go on about their business.
Si Cwan did not move, however. He remained exactly where he was, his gaze never leaving Kalinda and Xyon as they walked away together, she with her arm around his waist, helping him along.
First he paced his quarters for a time, and then when he came to the realization that pacing didn't make the quarters any bigger, Si Cwan sat in one place and stewed. He remained that way until he heard a chime at his door. "Come," he said.
To his utter astonishment, Robin Lefler was standing there. Her face still looked a bit puffy, but she seemed in slightly better shape than she was earlier. Perhaps the medicine was having some effect.
"What are you doing here?" he asked.
"What am I doing? What are you doing, is the better question." She sniffed and walked forward. The door shut behind her and she leaned against the wall.
"Would you care to sit?" he asked.
"That probably wouldn't be wise, seeing as I would most likely fall asleep," she informed him. "I want to know if you've gone crazy."
"I want to know if the world has gone crazy," replied Si Cwan. "We are helping the Redeemers, have you heard that?"
"Yes, I've heard."
"Madness!"
"From the way I've heard it, the captain has no choice."
"And now this. Kalinda's involvement with…with …"
"With Xyon. You can say it. He has a name. 'Xyon.' "
"I know his name. I know, to some degree, I should be grateful to him. But still …" He shook his head, feeling utterly discouraged. "I feel as if I am alone in this matter. As if no one can comprehend how I feel. Nor do I really know why I would expect them to understand. Of everyone on this vessel, I alone am of the nobility. No matter, as others have pointed out, that my line may have ended. That that which I ruled over is gone. Nobility comes from within."
"So does compassion … and … and … and …"
"And what?'
Her response was an explosive sneeze that Si Cwan would have sworn had enough force to blast a hole through the bulkhead. By the laws of action and reaction, he would have expected her head to fly off her shoulders as a result.
"Are you all right?" he inquired.
"Fine. I'm fine. Look … Si Cwan … I think you're gonna have to start exploring just how much of this is your precious nobility … and how much is just plain jealousy."
"Jealousy!" He scoffed at the notion. "I am simply concerned with what's best for her, that is all."
"It'd be understandable. I mean, all this time you've been looking for her, and worrying about her. And now she's here … and she's ignoring you for Xyon. That must be hard to take."
"Robin … you are an intelligent woman, and I've come to respect your advice and counsel. But please believe me when I say that you have misread the situation completely. It is not at all as you have described it. I am only worried about propriety."
"You're saying basically, then, that you feel he's not good enough for your sister."
"It is nothing personal," shrugged Si Cwan. "No one on this ship is."
"And you? Would no one be good enough for you? On this ship?"
"I don't know what you mean."
"Well …" Charmingly, she cleared her throat. "Let's get you a 'for instance.' " She lea
ned forward, her fingers interlaced, and her voice dropped to an almost intimate level. "Let us suppose, for sake of argument, that I said to you, 'Si Cwan, I think I'm falling in love with you. I love your dignity, your nobility. I love the way you conduct yourself, when you're not busy making a fool of yourself. I love your heroism. In short, I find you incredibly attractive, on both an emotional and physical level. I want to take our relationship to a new and more intimate level. Now … what would you say to all that?"
He considered it, stroking the narrow beard that lined his chin. "I would be flattered, of course. But other than that, I. …"
And then he looked into her eyes. Really looked there. And he saw a depth of emotion, a bottomless pool that seemed to be inviting him to swim within them. He was astounded by the intensity of what he was seeing there, and it was entirely focused on him.
For a moment, just a moment, he forgot about his title and station. Instead all he could see was this woman with her emotions so on the surface, that he wondered just how in the world he could have missed it all this time.
"I…"
"You don't know, do you?" she said quickly. Abruptly she sat back, as if she was trying to cover something up as fast as she could. "You see? It's always easy to judge such matters from a distance. But once it's close up, once your own emotions are in play, it's not quite as simple to say, 'Sorry. You two can't be together because of rank.' "
