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?"

Having no ready answer, Si Cwan shrugged and they headed off in the direction that Kebron had indicated. But then they heard a small, high-pitched sound from behind them. They stopped, turned . . .

. . . and realized that Dackow was beeping.

In the control center, Zoran was staring at Rojam in of them?"

Rojam shook his head. "I've lost contact with all three of them. They're not responding on the comm links at all."

"Three armed Thallonian ravagers against a single Starfleet fool and an effete snob," snarled Zoran. "How is it possible?"

And Rojam lost patience with Zoran, which was a very dangerous thing for him to do, but he no longer cared. "Because Starfleet is not composed of fools, Zoran, and because Si Cwan—for all that you dislike him, for all that any of us dislikes him—is anything but an effete snob. He's as formidable a warrior as they come, and you'd do well to remember that."

"I would do well to remember that? I would do well? And you would do well," snarled Zoran, his hands flexing in fury, "would do well to remember—"

He didn't have the chance to finish the sentence, however, because the comm panel beeped. Rojam punched the link-up, noting the identifier assigned to it, and said, "Dackow? Progress?"

There was a pause, and then a familiar voice said, "Dackow isn't making much progress at the moment." They could hear a soft chuckle, and then: "Hello, Zoran."

Low and angry, Zoran snarled, "Si Cwan."

"It has been a long time, hasn't it."

"I'll kill you for this."

"For this and for every other imagined insult." He'd sounded amused, but then he became deadly serious. "Where is Kalinda, Zoran? She has done nothing to you. And you are nothing but a sadistic pig." His tone became mocking. "I would have thought you'd release her so that this could be between us, Zoran. Between men, without the threat of a girl's welfare overshadowing it. You always held yourself up to such a 'high' standard. Always thought yourself so much better than I. And this is how low you have fallen, consumed by your jealousy and anger. Posturing and presenting yourself as some superior individual, when you don't have the courage to—"

"She's dead, you idiot!"

Rojam turned and looked in shocked disbelief at Zoran, and for once Zoran couldn't blame him. The phantom of Kalinda had been an upper hand that they would have been able to wield against Si Cwan. Perhaps force him into some situation where he couldn't possibly get away. But he had now tossed that aside.

Zoran turned away and Rojam suspended the transmission, crossing quickly over to Zoran. "Why did you do that? Why?" he demanded.

Zoran whirled to face him and hissed, "Because I want to hurt him. I want him to die inside first. You heard him! Heard his insults, his smugness—"

"He was baiting you and you fell for it! We had an advantage! We could have made demands on him! Instead you've removed that!"

"We have an advantage! We're armed! There's more of us! There's—"

But now Juif stepped forward and pointed out, "They're likely armed, too. We have to assume they took weapons off the others. They're roaming the ship, and they're very much in a position to hurt us."

Zoran, with apparent effort, focused on Juif. "What are you saying?"

"I'm saying we cut our losses, abandon the vessel, and blow it up from a safe distance."

"And let him get away?"

"We were never supposed to capture him! He was never part of the plan!" Juif said. "You've lost sight of that! You've lost sight of everything because Si Cwan wandered into the middle of all this, and suddenly your priorities changed! Well, my priorities are to get out of this insanity in one piece! And if that isn't yours, then there's something wrong with you."

"Wrong with me?"

"Yes!"

A calm seemed to descend upon Zoran, and truthfully the calm was more frightening than the anger. "Ten minutes," he said.