He tapped the comm-link unit on his wrist even as he backpedaled into the corridor. "All right, enough! Beam me out!"
That was when Zoran felt the ground starting to tremble beneath him. He glanced off to his right and saw what appeared to be a walking landmass advancing on him. Zak Kebron charged forward, arms pumping.
Then Zoran heard a defiant war cry and his attention was yanked back to Si Cwan. Cwan had actually ripped the barbed dagger from his shoulder, which should have been impossible. At the very least, any normal person would have collapsed in agony by that point. But if there was any doubt in Zoran's mind that Si Cwan was far from normal, it would certainly have been settled by now.
The dagger was dripping with Si Cwan's blood. He could not have cared less. He tossed it aside, sending it clattering across the floor leaving a trail of red behind him. And then he lurched forward toward Zoran.
One hand was outstretched, his palm covered with thick, dark fluids; his own.
He didn't care.
He had a weapon still strapped to his back.
He didn't care.
He was injured, wounded, every muscle in his body aching, and weak from blood loss. And Si Cwan didn't care.
The only thing he cared about was getting his hands on Zoran. Which, ultimately, he was unable to do.
A sound filled the immediate area. Although it was of a different timbre than the noise produced by a regulation Starfleet transporter, nonetheless it was easily identifiable as a matter transporter sound.
" No!"howled Si Cwan in outrage, and in desperation he leaped at Zoran. His hope was that if he managed to leap into range of the transport effect in time, he would be brought along to wherever it was that Zoran was heading. But he was too late. Zoran's form became just insubstantial enough for Si Cwan to fall right through it. He hit the metal grating of the floor as Zoran—along with Si Cwan's chances for revenge—disappeared.
"Get back here, you bastard!" shouted Si Cwan, slamming his fists on the floor in frustration.
"I doubt he'll hear you," observed Kebron, who had chugged to a halt just short of running Si Cwan over.
Then the comm unit that Si Cwan had taken off of the fallen Thallonian beeped. There was no question in his mind who it was who was endeavoring to get in touch with him. He activated it and said angrily, "I call you coward, Zoran!"
"I call you dead, Si Cwan," Zoran replied with just a touch of regret. "But if you wish to discuss it further, I suggest you adjourn to a location two decks below you, aft section." And he clicked off.
Without hesitation, Si Cwan pivoted and started off in the direction that Zoran had indicated, but he was brought to an abrupt halt by Kebron, who had gotten a firm grip on his arm. "No you don't. Not again."
"I'm not going to let him get away!"
"You already did. If you mean you that's up for debate."
"Kebron, let go of me!" he said with angry imperiousness. And then, in a tone that was a bit more pleading, he added, "Please."
"We go together. On your honor. Say it."
Si Cwan gritted his teeth and nodded reluctantly. "Together. But you will not interfere in the outcome. On your honor. Say it. Say you will do nothing to interfere in the outcome of the battle between Zoran and myself."
"If you insist. On my honor, I will not interfere in the outcome of the battle."
"Very well. Let's go." And he charged off, but slowly enough that Kebron could keep up.
Zoran stared out at the depths of space which beckoned to them. Rojam and Juif stood on either side of him, fidgeting nervously, staring at the darkened navigation console of their escape vessel. It was not a particularly large ship; indeed, joined as it was to the airlock of the it had actually avoide the Marquanddetecting it. It had room enough for three people, and also a single transport pad, which Rojam had used to get Zoran off the science vessel to which they were still attached.
"Zoran, get us out of here," Juif said urgently. It was difficult to tell whether Zoran had actually heard him. He simply sat there, jaw set, anger flickering in his eyes.
Rojam crouched down and said sharply, "Zoran . . . I wish, for your sake, you had defeated him in the manner you desired. But we had a deal. We gave you your ten minutes. The bomb is set. Further delay risks all our lives."
In a faintly mocking tone, Juif added, "It is the province of Si Cwan and his ilk to make promises that they do not keep."
Slowly Zoran turned to them, appearing to notice them for the first time since he'd been beamed aboard the escape vessel. "I am curious," he said. "If I had not rigged this vessel so that its flight systems would only respond to my voice commands . . . would you have left me on the ship? Left me behind to die with Si Cwan? Or did you only stick to our plan because you needed me in order to escape?"
"Don't be ridiculous," Rojam said flatly, and Juif echoed the sentiment.
Zoran looked into their eyes, tried to see the true feelings there. "You are afraid," he said after a moment.
"Of course we're afraid!" Juif told him in mounting exasperation. "We're attached to a vessel that's going to be space dust in a few minutes, and you're quizzing us over our devotion as your friends! Cut us loose from here and let's be done with it! We can discuss this all you want later, but if we don't break off now, there's not going to be a later!"
Zoran stared at them for a moment that seemed to stretch out into forever, and then he said, "Nav computer, voice ID, Zoran Si Verdin."
"Voice ID confirmed," the computer replied indifferently.
"Nav systems on line. Detach vessel from airlock. Set heading to 183 on the Y-axis. Activate."
"Activating."
There was a slight jostling, the sound of huge metal clamps releasing, and a moment later they were free of their moorings. The escape vessel dropped away from the doomed science vessel and arced away into the blackness of space.
And they didn't even notice that, far in the distance, something was starting to ripple into existence . . .
Si Cwan crept forward, and then was very unnerved as Zak Kebron strode by, making no attempt at subtlety. "Kebron!" he hissed angrily. "Zoran is just ahead! A little stealth would be appreciated!"
Kebron looked at him blandly. "I'm Brikar," he informed him. "I don't do 'stealth.'"
Si Cwan rolled his eyes.
"Besides," continued Kebron, marching ahead, floor rattling beneath him, "I suspect that the question will be moot. I don't think Zoran is there."
"What?"
"It would be foolish to blithely give away a position or the advantage of surprise in that manner."
"You don't know Zoran as I do," said Si Cwan, moving just behind Kebron.
"No, I do not. As a result, I assess him calmly and coldly, rather than letting my opinion be clouded by hatred. I tell you that such a move on his part would be sheer foolishness, and nothing that you've told me about him indicates that level of stupidity."
"What do you think to expect, then?"
"A trap."
Si Cwan blew air impatiently out between his teeth. "I can handle any trap of Zoran's."
They rounded a corner and then Kebron came to such an abrupt halt that Si Cwan banged into his back, crunching his face into Kebron's spine. He stepped back, rubbing his nose, about to complain angrily . . . and then he saw it.