dammit, when!) he managed to find his tormentor and dispose of him/her, that wasn’t going to do a thing to bring back any of the brave Xenexians who had been so cruelly taken before their time.
And for that moment, and only that moment, Mackenzie Calhoun considered doing exactly what the D’myurj had suggested. He could find a high peak and just throw himself off, plummet to the rocks below, and terminate himself in exchange for the lives of the Xenexians who would continue to fight beside him—presuming he could find any who were still breathing at this point—and die on his behalf.
Then the moment passed, and Calhoun had just enough time to wonder who, in the grand scheme of all this, was truly the villain of this piece, before continuing on his path in hopes of hooking up with the straggling remains of his ragtag army.
U.S.S. Excalibur
Sometime Earlier
i.
Calhoun, relaxing in his quarters in the way he typically did—reading military histories—looked up with interest when Zak Kebron conveyed the news to him. The massive Brikar’s voice rumbled in its usual manner, seeming to fill the entirety of the room even though he was simply speaking over the intraship communications system. The captain listened, and naturally there was no one in the room to see the surprise on his face.
“Xyon? Are you sure it’s Xyon?”
“Everything checks out,” Kebron’s voice said. “Ship’s registry, plus a sensor scan matches up with our previous readings of him. It’s his ship and he’s the one inside hailing us, asking for permission to come aboard.”
Calhoun wasn’t sure what to make of it. The last time his son had taken his leave of them, it had seemed to be a more or less guaranteed thing that he wasn’t going to be seeing his father anytime soon, if ever. Yet now here he was, effectively knocking on the ship’s door.
“How the hell did he find out where we are?”
“We’re not exactly in stealth mode, Captain,” Kebron’s voice replied. “Xyon is a rather ingenious young man. I’m sure it was no great trick.”
“Obviously not.” Calhoun drummed his fingers on the desk in a quick staccato, trying to figure out what it was that he was not considering. “He’s not here without a reason.”
“Nobody does anything without a reason, Captain.”
“True enough.”
The Excalibur was involved in a rather innocuous science survey in the PAS3000 sector. It was, in Calhoun’s opinion, exactly what the crew needed after the recent catastrophes the ship had endured. The sequence of events that had been initiated by the late Doctor Selar had been brutal, and something as simple and straightforward as a science survey was a welcome change of pace for the ship. The main job of a starship was exploration, and it was a relief to engage in something as purely exploratory as this.
“Captain—?” Kebron prodded him when Calhoun’s silence extended a bit.
“Tell him to park his ship in the shuttlebay and come up to see me.”
“Shall I provide him an escort?”
“I think he knows his way around,” said Calhoun, “and I’m sure he doesn’t present a security risk.”
“You’re sure? Or you hope?”
Not for the first time, and very likely not for the last, Calhoun waxed nostalgic for the days when Kebron was little more than a big, surly, monosyllabic pile of rock with arms and legs. His “maturing” into someone who worried incessantly about everyone’s feelings was truly starting to get on Calhoun’s nerves. He’d have thought that installing Kebron as the ship’s counselor would give him an avenue to indulge his empathetic impulses, but apparently it wasn’t sufficient.
Kebron was still talking. “Captain, you have to ask yourself just how much you want to invest Xyon with the trust of which he is deserving, as opposed to what you want to impart in order to assuage your own concerns about him. When one considers Xyon’s track record and list of dubious involvements, any dispassionate assessment of his reliability would seem to indicate—”
“Kebron.”
“Yes, Captain?”
“Just let him on the damned ship and stay the hell out of my head.”
There was a brief pause. Then simply: “Yes, sir.”
Calhoun’s head slumped back. “Grozit,” he said with a sigh.
ii.
Xyon walked with the sort of swagger that only someone who was utterly in control of his own destiny could summon. At least that was how he saw it and, really, wasn’t that the only thing that was important?
Various crewmen glanced at him in surprise as he passed them. He didn’t blame them. Some of the familiar faces recognized him and doubtless