Rojam and Juif looked at each other. "What?" asked Rojam.

"Ten minutes. I want ten minutes to hunt the bastard down. If I don't have his head in ten minutes, we do as you suggest. How say you?"

The truth was that neither of them was especially enthused with the plan. But they saw the cold look in his eyes and realized that this was the best they were going to get. Slowly, and reluctantly, they nodded in agreement.

"Rojam," said Zoran, sounding almost supernaturally calm, "set a bomb for fifteen minutes. That will allow me the ten minutes to which we've agreed, and another five to get to our vessel and clear the area. More than enough."

More than enough for someone with a death wish...Rojam thought, but he didn't dare say it aloud. He had the feeling that he'd already gotten away with saying more than he would have thought possible.

"She's dead, you idiot!"

The words lanced through Si Cwan's heart, chilled his soul. He didn't even realize that he was wavering slightly until he felt Kebron's hand on his arm, steadying him. His red face became dark crimson, as it was wont to do when he was truly upset. He was gripping the comm unit they'd lifted off the fallen Thallonian, gripping it so tightly that he was on the verge of breaking it.

"Si Cwan... calm down," Kebron said forcefully. "I need you calm. They're trying to make you angry. Anger will put you at risk. At the very least, it will make you less useful to me."

It was impossible to tell whether Si Cwan heard him or not. He snarled into the comm unit, "You're lying! You're lying!"

There was no response and he shook the comm unit furiously until Kebron forcibly pried it out of his hands, even as he said, "You're wasting your time. He's not responding."

Si Cwan spun to face the Brikar, and there was murder in his eyes. Kebron had felt mostly disdain for Si Cwan since they'd met. Disdain, annoyance, anger. Never, however, had he felt the least bit intimidated. The Brikar, with their massive build and the confidence that came from having as sturdy hide as they did, tended to make them rather hard to scare. When Kebron looked into Si Cwan's eyes at that moment, however, he was not exactly scared. But he knew beyond any question that he would most definitely not want to be this Zoran individual.

"We're going to find him," Si Cwan said tightly. "We're going to find him and when I kill him, Kebron, understand: I cannot use this," and he indicated the plasma blaster. "He must die with my hands on his throat. No other means will be acceptable."

"There are alternatives to killing him," Kebron told him.

The temperature in the corridor dropped about twenty degrees from the chill of Cwan's voice alone. "No. There are not."

And suddenly the comm unit beeped. Kebron tapped it and they heard Zoran's voice say, "Hello, Si Cwan. I assume you can hear me."

Si Cwan was about to snap out a harsh response, but Kebron put a finger to his lips. At first Cwan was confused, but then he realized the wisdom in this course. Conversation with Zoran would only cause Si Cwan to become angrier, more inclined to lose his temper, and that would simply give Zoran even more confidence. Cwan had to forcibly bite down on his lower lip, and several drops of blackish blood dripped out.

"Si Cwan," Zoran was saying slowly, "you were so easy to fool. All I had to do was reprogram the computer to synthesize her voice. Only took thirty seconds. Thirty seconds to get your hopes up." His voice dropped. It sounded like an obscene purr. "She died crying your name, Si Cwan. Over and over, she called for you. I won't tell you how she died. I won't tell you what was done to her, or how long it took, or any details at all. Do you know why? Because you'll envision every worst-case possibility. I wouldn't want to take the chance of the truth being less severe than whatever you might conjure up in your imagination."

Si Cwan was visibly trembling. It was all he could do to contain himself.

"I'm looking for you, Si Cwan," came Zoran's taunting voice. "Come and find me . . . if you can." And he shut off the comm link.

"Si Cwan . . . Get a grip." Kebron saw that Si Cwan was inarticulate with fury, and he gripped him firmly by the shoulders.

His voice was a strangled whisper. "I'll kill him..."

"If I were you, I would, too. No question. But right now, in your state of mind, he'll kill you first.

Again, no question. You're giving him exactly what he wants: a target who's out of control." But Si Cwan wasn't hearing him. He was completely internalized, muttering to himself, not at all relating to their environment. His head was filled with the imagined dying screams of his sister. Kebron shook him and said, "Cwan, I know how you feel."

With effort, Si Cwan focused on him. "No, you don't... you can't. . ."

"Oh yes I can," Kebron shot back. "My parents, on a mining colony . . . killed by Orion pirates who stripped the colony, looking for anything they could steal. They worked to send me to the Academy, and while I was there, their dedication was repaid with murder. And when I heard, I took leave from the Academy and tracked the pirates down. And you know what? I almost got killed. When Starfleet reps caught up with me, I was near death. I was in the hospital for two months while they put me back together. I never caught up again with the ones who destroyed my family, and I was lucky to survive the encounter, all because I was blinded by rage, just like you are now. Now snap out of it."

It was the longest speech Si Cwan could ever recall Kebron making. For that matter, it was the longest speech Kebron himself could recall making. And he had to keep on speaking quickly, while he had Si Cwan's attention. "This Zoran... tell me all about him. Tell me what to expect."

"Zoran..." Si Cwan took a deep breath. "Zoran ... he'll probably have company, besides the ones we already disposed of. One named Rojam,the other named Juif. They're a trio."

"How do you know?"

"Because," Si Cwan said coldly, "we used to be a quartet." He paused a heartbeat. "Have you ever had to kill your best friend? Is that in our mutually shared experience as well?"

"No," admitted Kebron.

"Well... good," and Si Cwan gripped Zak Kebron by the elbow. "Come along, then. I'll show you how it's done."

V.

"ISN'T IT AMAZING?"murmured Calhoun, as the planet Nelkar rotated below them. He gazed at it upon the screen. "One planet looks so much like another when you're up here. Sometimes you want to take planetbound races who are at war with each other, bring them up here, show them their world. Make them realize that it's one world that they should all be sharing, rather than fighting over it."

From her position next to him on the bridge, Shelby asked, "And if someone had done that for young..." She hesitated over the pronunciation, as she always did, gargling it slightly, "M'k'n'zy of Calhoun... would he have stopped fighting?"

"No," he said with amused admission. He thought of the short sword mounted on the wall of his ready room. "Mr. Boyajian," he said in a slightly louder voice, deliberately changing subjects, "have you raised the planet's surface yet?"

"Not yet, sir. As of this point, I'm . . . Wait. Receiving transmission now."