Atol managed, just barely, to nod, and then his body began to tremble. "Go to your ancestors," Si Cwan told him, and as if obeying a final order from his former liege, Atol's head shook—although whether in compliance or from final spasms, it was impossible to tell. And then his eyes rolled up into the top of his head.
Kebron stood over the two fallen Thallonians, looking at his handiwork. His phaser was still snugly in its holster, untouched. "I was under the impression," Si Cwan said, "that Starfleet security officers usually give people the option of surrendering."
The Brikar appeared to consider that a moment as he nudged Skarm's body with the toe of his boot. Then he replied, "Ugly rumors." He paused, and then asked, "Who is Zoran?"
"A very unusual man. He's someone who wants to kill me."
Kebron looked at him and, with the famed Brikar deadpan, said, "I hope you don't think that wanting to kill you makes him unusual."
Si Cwan grunted in a tone that almost indicated morbid amusement, and then he stepped past Kebron. Cwan was a natural leader, and his tendency was to take the point, to be in the forefront, during any situation.
This time it almost cost him his life.
Kebron only noticed at the last second that a shadow was separating from other shadows farther down the hallway. The two had been accompanied by a third, and he'd come down and around while the first two were engaging them by the stairway. Zak only had a moment to react. With a sweep of his massive arm he knocked Si Cwan to the floor, yanking his phaser clear and firing . . .
. . . not in time. The assailant at the far end of the hallway saw the phaser being brought to bear on him, and he dodged under the beam even as he fired off a shot with the plasma blaster. The blaster struck Kebron in the upper right shoulder, and the Brikar let out a pained grunt, which was the most he would do to acknowledge pain. With any other species, the plasma would have torn off the shoulder right down to the bone. The Brikar's hide was considerably tougher than that. Even so, the Brikar was clearly in pain, the plasma sizzling on his shoulder and the ghastly smell of burning flesh filling the air.
He dropped his phaser, and Si Cwan snatched it out of midair. He caught it, aimed, and fired in one smooth motion, and the phaser blasted the Thallonian assailant back. He smashed against the far wall, the plasma blaster spinning out of his hand, falling to his side. Clutching his chest, the Thallonian tried to lunge for the blaster, but then he saw that Si Cwan was targeting him again, and he leaped away in the other direction, disappearing down a cross corridor before Si Cwan could nail him with a phaser shot. Si Cwan charged after him, not even stopping to check on the condition of the fallen Brikar. His focus was entirely on catching up with this latest assailant and finding out whether or not Kalinda was anywhere on the ship. Even if he had to beat it out of him, he was going to find out.
He rounded the corner, not even stopping to pick up the plasma blaster, because he was in such a hurry to catch up with the Thallonian. There was no sign of him, and Si Cwan moved around another corner and started down another corridor.
He never even saw the iron bar that lashed out. But he felt it as it slammed into the arm that was holding the phaser. To his credit he held on to it and he tried to bring it up to bear on his attacker, but another swing of the bar crunched his fingers and knocked the phaser out of his hand.
"Afraid to face me man-to-man, O great lord?" taunted the Thallonian. The bar he was holding was about three feet long, and he was gripping it firmly at the base.
"I know you. Dackow, isn't it," Si Cwan said slowly. One of his hands was throbbing, but the other was functioning just fine, and his fingers curled around the floor grating beneath him. He felt a bit of give in the flooring, and realized that it wasn't one solid piece, but instead fitted in sections, the edges of the crisscrossed metal fitting neatly into slots in the base of the hallway flooring.
Dackow paused, surprised. "I'm impressed that such a great man as yourself would remember a humble nothing such as me."
"It's difficult to forget someone quite as sycophantic as you. As I recall, you preferred to hover around the fringes of the great court, laughing at the right times when the right people spoke, scowling when others fell out of favor. And when the tide turned against my family, you were one of the first to switch to the side of those who wanted us out. You bend with the wind, Dackow, and doubtlessly congratulate yourself over your foresight, when the fact is that you're just a coward. A coward through and through."
With a roar of fury, Dackow drew the bar back over his head and swung it down in a fierce arc. Had it landed, it would have caved in Si Cwan's skull.
With a quick twist, Si Cwan ripped the metal flooring out from under himself and held it up as a shield. The bar crashed into the grating, the reverberation of the metal almost deafening. Dackow switched angles and tried to strike Si Cwan across the ribs. Again, no good. Si Cwan intercepted it, down on one knee. Again and again, fury building with every stroke, Dackow tried to slam his bar into the Thallonian prince. Left, right, up and down, and every time Si Cwan blocked it.
Dackow, with a roar of rage, reversed his grip on the bar and tried to drive it downward as if staking a vampire. Si Cwan backrolled, putting a short distance between himself and Dackow, and then he threw the flooring as if it were a discus. Dackow saw it coming, but there was no room in the narrow corridor to get out of the way. The grating lanced into him with tremendous force, the edges driving into his solar plexus. Dackow howled in pain and Si Cwan was on his feet, his powerful legs thrusting him forward, his hands outstretched. He caught the edges of the grating and shoved as hard as he could. The force of the lunge drove the edging of the grating right into Dackow, penetrating half a foot, and the charge lifted Dackow off his feet. His back crashed into the wall and there was an audible snap . . . the sound of his spine breaking, as if being impaled wasn't enough.
Blood poured from his mouth as Si Cwan stepped back, releasing his grip on the grating and allowing Dackow to fall to the ground. "Where is Kalinda? Where is my sister?" demanded Si Cwan.
Dackow gathered some of the blood that was pouring from his mouth, and managed to transform it into a contemptuous spit which he hurled at Si Cwan. It was the last thing he would ever do.
There was a heavy step behind Si Cwan and he whirled, his arms in a defensive position, but it was only Kebron standing behind him. The Brikar was massaging hiskill. More productive."
"I'll try to keep that in mind," shot back Si Cwan. He stood, feeling momentarily shaky. The wear and tear of the running fight was beginning to take its toll. "How many more do you think there are?"
"I have no idea," replied Kebron. "That's what bothers me." He picked up the fallen phaser, returned it to its holster. He was cradling one of the plasma blasters and pointed out the other one, which had fallen. "Grab it and let's go."
Earlier, Si Cwan might have been annoyed at the commanding tone of Kebron's voice. But now he simply nodded and picked up the fallen plasma blaster. "I don't generally like weapons," he commented. "They can malfunction or be taken from you."
"Really. I'm the same way. Use them if I have to, though." He pointed with authority. "That way."
"Why that way?"
"Why not?"