When she blinked out, Shelby asked, "What about the Cambon?We can't haul it along at warp speed."
"We'll cut her loose and leave her here to drift until we come back for her," he said after a moment's thought. "Considering the condition she's in, I hardly think we have to worry about scavengers."
"Bridge to Captain Calhoun," came McHenry's voice.
"Calhoun here."
"Captain, we've gotten coordinates for Nelkar." He paused. "Were we expecting them?"
"Yes, we were. Warp five would get us there when, Mr. McHenry?"
"At warp five? Two hours, ten minutes, sir. They're not all that far."
Shelby commented, "Considering their own vessel isn't exactly the most advanced I've seen, I can't say I'm surprised. That still leaves us with one outstanding problem."
"Yes, I'm quite aware of that. McHenry, set course for Nelkar, warp five. Then have Mr. Boyajian patch me through to the Marquand.Let's make sure we're not leaving them in the lurch."
"You're making the right decision, sir," said Shelby.
"I'm so relieved that you approve, Commander." He grimaced. "My only problem is ... you know that unpleasant feeling I've got about the Nelkarites?"
"Yes?"
"Well . . . now I'm starting to get it about the Marquandand its rendezvous with the Kayven Ryin. Ihope that wasn't a mistake as well."
"Captain, if you keep second-guessing your judgments, you're going to make yourself insane."
"Why, Commander . . . I thought you decided I was insane the day I broke off our engagement."
And with a contemptuous chuckle, she said, "Captain . . . I hate to inform you . . . but I broke it off. Not you." She strode out of the conference lounge, leaving an amused Calhoun shaking his head. But then the amusement slowly evaporated as the reality set in.
He didn't like the situation. Not at all.
For years he had basically been his own boss. He had answered to no one except, in a very distant manner, Admiral Nechayev. He had been bound by no rules except those of common sense, and made decisions that were answerable only to himself. It had been an extremely free manner in which to operate.
But now . . , now he had rules hanging over him whichever way he turned. He had operated under rules before, yes . . . but he had been the one making the rules. Back when he'd been a freedom fighter on his native Xenex, his wiles and craftiness had earned him the respect of those around him and they obeyed him. They obeyed him unthinkingly, unhesitatingly. Had he told them to throw themselves on their swords, they would have done so with the firm conviction that there was a damned good reason for it.
But that wasn't the case here. Yes, he was captain. Yes, he was obeyed. But that obedience came as a result of a long tradition and history that dictated that obedience. They answered to the rank, not to him. When it came to he himself, he could sense that there were still double-takes or second thoughts. His crew—Shelby in particular—gave thought to his orders, questioned him, challenged him. It irked him, angered him.
And yet . . . and yet . . .
Shouldn't that really please him? Shouldn't that be something that made him happy rather than disconcerted him? After all, he had lived in an environment where blind obedience was expected as a matter of course, and punished if not given. The Xenexians had lived under the thumb of the Danterians, and during that time the Danterians had not been exactly reluctant to show who was boss at any given moment. They had unhesitatingly used the Xenexians as their objects, their toys, their playthings to dispose of at a whim or exploit as they saw fit. Young M'k'n'zy of Calhoun had seen those activities and a cold fury had built within him. Built and built until it had exploded into rebellion, and through sheer force of will he had brought an entire race with him.
Yes, he had indeed seen firsthand the dangers of requiring unquestioned obedience. At the same time, he was frustrated that the same rules under which he oftentimes felt constricted were what guaranteed that his own people would do what he told them to. He wanted more than that.
Time,a voice in his head consoled him. These things required time. He had always been impatient, always wanted everything at whatever moment he wanted it. It was an attitude that had, in the past, stood him in good stead. When tribal elders had told him that someday, someday in the far future, the Xenexians would be free, young M'k'n'zy had not settled for that. "Someday" was too ephemeral, too useless a concept for him. He wanted "someday" to be right then and there. He would make his own "somedays."
He smiled at the absurdity of it all. Despite everything he'd gone through, everything he'd seen, there was still an impatient young Xenexian within him who did not understand the need for patience. A young Xenexian who wanted everything immediately, and who had no use whatsoever for " someday."
He tapped his comm badge. "Calhoun to Shelby."
"Shelby here," came the prompt reply.
"Have we been in communication with Kebron and Si Cwan?"
"Yes, sir. They, in turn, have spoken with the crew of the Kayven Ryin.Although they are in distress, there is no immediate danger to them. They report life-support systems are still on line. Kebron and Cwan intended to board the Kayven Ryinand lend whatever aid they can until we rendezvous with them."
"Very well. Best speed to Nelkar, then . . . on my order," he added as an afterthought.
"On your order, sir," she said. Then there was a pause. "Captain . . ."
"Yes, Commander?"
"We're waiting on your order."
He smiled to the empty room. "Yes. I know." He paused a moment longer, then said simply, "Now."
"Now it is, sir."
It was a small pleasure, making them wait in anticipation of the order. Childish, perhaps. A juvenile reminder of who was in charge, but he found that it gave him amusement. And lately he'd had very little of that.
"Oh, and Commander," he said as an afterthought.
"Yes, sir."
"Just for your information: Ibroke it off. Calhoun out."
* * *
On the bridge of the Excalibur,Lefler turned in her seat and looked quizzically at Shelby. She noted that it seemed as if Shelby's chest were shaking in amusement. "He 'broke it off,' Commander?"
"So he claims, Lieutenant," replied Shelby.
From the science station, Soleta inquired, "Will he be needing someone to reattach it?"
And then she stared at Shelby in confusion as Shelby, unable to contain it anymore, laughed out loud.
SI CWAN
II.
ZORAN THOUGHT THAT HEWas going to go out of his mind.
He felt as if the damned shuttle craft had been hanging there forever, tantalizingly, frustratingly just out of reach. He had wanted to send multiple messages to it, telling them to get over to the ship immediately, that help was desperately needed, that they were going to die within seconds if immediate aid were not provided. But Rojam had cautioned against it. "They have their own instrumentation," he advised Zoran. "If we try to trick them, if we tell them there's immediate danger when there isn't, they'll be able to see through it."