D'ndai was silent. Silent as the tomb.
Shelby slowly began to rise, sensing impending disaster, and she touched Kebron on the shoulder, indicating that he should be prepared for trouble. McHenry knew trouble was coming as well. However, he was also capable of prioritizing, and consequently emptied the contents of the Yukka chips bowl between his outer and inner shirt, since he had the sneaking suspicion he wasn't going to be getting any more in the near future.
"Captain . . ." Shelby said warningly.
But he put up a hand and said sharply, "This isn't your affair, Commander. Ryjaan . . . your father was not murdered. He died in combat, in war, like a soldier. He went down well and nobly. I know . . . because I'm the one who killed him."
There was a collective gasp of the onlookers. Ryjaan was trembling with barely repressed fury. "You?"
"Yes. You know of my background as a freedom fighter. You should likewise know that crimes against the Danteri were unilaterally forgiven by your government as part of the settlement of the worlds. You would stand there and accuse me of a crime that your own government no longer considers a crime."
"I have not rendered that decision!" Ryjaan said angrily. "I do not care what my government has or has not decided! That was my father who died on Xenex!"
"Yes, and it was your father who left me with this," replied Calhoun, touching his scar.
"This is a lie! It's all lies!" said Ryjaan. "You think to exonerate Si Cwan by assuming the blame for a crime you did not commit! You have no proof—!"
"No?" Calhoun asked quietly. He tapped his comm badge. "Calhoun to transporter room. Send it down."
Before anyone could react, the twinkling whine of the transporters sounded nearby, and something materialized on the floor next to Calhoun. It was a sword. A short sword. Shelby recognized it instantly as the sword that had been hanging on the wall in his ready room. Calhoun walked over to it and hefted it as comfortably as if it was a part of his own body.
"Recognize this?" he asked.
The curve of the sword, the carvings on the handle, were unmistakable.
And with a roar, Ryjaan leaped forward, his own sword out of its scabbard so quickly that the eye would have been unable to follow. "Final Challenge!"he howled.
"Accepted!" shot back Calhoun, and he caught the downward thrust of the sword skillfully on the length of his own blade.
The crowd was in an uproar, everyone shouting simultaneously.
"Come on!"shouted Shelby, and Kebron led the charge. He plowed through anyone between him and Calhoun, as easily stopped or reasoned with as a tidal wave, knocking anyone or anything in his path out of the way. Shelby and McHenry were right behind him. He grabbed Ryjaan from behind just as Ryjaan was about to lunge forward with another thrust and tossed him aside. Ryjaan went flying, landing squarely behind the place of honor, as Shelby hit her comm badge and shouted, "Shelby to transporter room! Five to beam up, now! Now!"
And the air crackled around them as the away team vanished. And the last thing they heard was Ryjaan screaming, "Final Challenge! Final Challenge! Honor it, if you're a man, and face me, coward!"
MACKENZIE
IX.
"CAPTAIN, NO! YOU CAN'T!?"
Shelby and Calhoun were still in the transporter room, the rest of the away team grouped around them. Polly Watson at the transporter console had no idea what was going on, and so simply stood to one side.
"A challenge has been issued and accepted," replied Calhoun evenly. "This is a matter of justice. You said it yourself, Commander. We have to abide by local customs. The Prime Directive—"
"—is not the issue here, sir! Captain, can we continue this discussion in your ready room?"
"No." He turned to Watson. "Prepare to beam me back down."
"Yes, sir." She stepped toward the console.
"Belay that," snapped Shelby.
"Yes, sir." She stepped back from the console.
"Either you were arguing for a concept and a belief, Commander, or you were arguing for an individual," said Calhoun firmly. "It can't be that something which applies to Si Cwan or to Kebron does not apply tome."
"You're this vessel's captain," Shelby said.
"What better reason, then. I should exemplify the rule; not be the exception to it."
"If I might interject—" began Si Cwan.
"No!"both Shelby and Calhoun said.
"—or not," Si Cwan finished.
"Captain, the legality of this is questionable at best," continued Shelby. "At the very least, let's consult with Starfleet Central over the legal issues raised. You said yourself that—"
"On the first leg of our mission, you want me to drop everything and notify Starfleet so they can tell me what to do. That, Commander, sounds like an excellent way to erode confidence in this vessel's ability to get the job done."
"Permission to speak freely," Kebron said.
"No!"both Shelby and Calhoun said.
"Fine. I didn't really want it."
"Permission to return to the bridge," McHenry quickly said. "I don't think I'm serving much of a function here."
"We'll be right behind you," said Shelby.
"No, 'we' will not," Calhoun informed her. " Watson, beam me back down."
Watson took a step toward the console but eyed Shelby warily. And Shelby turned to Calhoun and said, "Captain, please . . . five minutes of your time."
He eyed her a moment. "Two. All of you out. Kebron, you look like you've been through a grinder. Get down to sickbay."
The others needed no further urging to vacate the transporter room, leaving Shelby and Calhoun alone.
"Mac, I know what this is about. It's just the two of us now, you don't have to pretend. You, of all people, can't tell me that all of a sudden you've grown an inviolable conscience when it comes to the Prime Directive."
"And you, of all people, can't tell me that all of a sudden, you don't give a damn about it."
"What I give a damn about is you, and what you're trying to prove, for no reason. This isn't about justice or the Prime Directive. This is about you needing to test yourself, push yourself. Prove to yourself that you're the man you were. But you don't have to do that! It doesn't matter who you think you were. What matters is who you are now: Captain Mackenzie Calhoun of the Starship Excalibur.And a Starfleet captain simply does not needlessly throw himself into the heart of danger. Let Ryjaan rant and rave. Let him nurse his grudge. It doesn't matter. What matters is that you have a responsibility to this ship, to this crew, to . . ."
"To you?" he asked quietly.
There was none of the anger in her voice, none of the edge that he had come to expect. Just a simple, soft, "I'd . . . like to think so."
He turned away from her, oddly finding himself unable to look at her. "Before I knew you . . . I knew you," he said.
"I . . . don't understand."
"I . . . had a vision of you. It's not something I really need to go into now. I saw you, that's all, years before we actually encountered each other. I'd be lying if I said I fell in love with you at that moment. I didn't even know you. But I knew you were my future. Just as I know now that this is my future. I have to do this, Eppy. I have no choice."