Authors: Tracy St. John
Lidon blew out an impatient breath and shook his head. Slowly, as if explaining things to a child he told Vadef, “Imdiko, take your Matara to your quarters where you can take care of what troubles her. You are excused until she recovers from whatever offense she has suffered.”
Vadef finally understood that the weapons commander really did comprehend the enormity of the situation. With real gratitude he said, “Thank you, Commander.”
Lidon nodded and sat back down to his work.
Vadef steered Katherine towards the door. “It’s all right, my love. Let’s go back to our quarters.”
He concentrated on his beloved, escorting her out of the room. Vadef decided he would think later about the softer side of the scariest Kalquorian he knew.
* * * *
Miv was part of a complement of security which stood guard over the Earther transport crew. The vessel’s brig had proven too small to keep the entire crew in containment, so they had all been placed in a cargo hold. The Earthers milled about, speaking to each other, playing card games, or napping. They were not allowed to converse in low tones, and no more than three could congregate in a group at any one time. Miv and his fellow security officers were armed and ready for trouble. It didn’t look like the crew would offer any. The ship was only a courier transport. Though the Earther crew that ran it was officially classified as military, they weren’t really soldiers in the sense Miv was used to.
He stood near one of two doors that led out of the cargo hold, one of thirty guards keeping watch. It was as boring an assignment as he could imagine and he had a difficult time keeping his thoughts from drifting to Katherine. It was a sign of his admitted adoration of her; Miv took his responsibilities seriously.
Only years of training kept him from nearly flying out of his boots when a low voice spoke almost right in his ear. “Ensign Miv.”
He jumped only a little, his surprise owing mostly that someone had managed to slip up on him unheard. His shock turned to outright terror when he looked around to see Weapons Commander Lidon standing at his elbow. The formidable Nobek’s face showed no emotion.
Hoping he didn’t look too much the fool, Miv turned sharply to face the ship’s head of security and bowed. “Commander.”
“Come with me.” Without another word, Lidon turned his back on Miv and walked out of the room.
His heart hammering, Miv followed him out. After about a dozen limping steps down the deserted corridor, Lidon stopped and turned to him.
“I was working with your clanmate Vadef when your Matara was brought to him. She was very upset.”
All fears for himself vanished with that startling statement. Miv tensed, poised to hurry to his beloved. “Is Katherine all right, sir?”
“Vadef is taking care of her. I believe she will be fine.”
Lidon stared at Miv, and several seconds spun out in silence. The younger Nobek knew better than to react or try to prod the weapons commander into speaking before he was ready. However it was a hard thing to not fidget or say anything with this battle-hardened warrior looking at him as if trying to figure something out.
When Lidon spoke, his words were a surprise. “What are your plans when your sentence of duty is up?”
Miv blinked uncertainly at him. “I plan to return to fighting, sir. I intend to turn professional.”
“I see.” Lidon frowned at him and narrowed his eyes. “You do realize your Dramok and Imdiko have excellent opportunities within the fleet, don’t you?”
“Of course.” Miv heard how impatient he sounded and quickly amended his response. “I’m sorry Commander, yes. They are very good at what they do.”
Lidon folded his arms over his chest. “Have you given any consideration as to how your pursuit of regaining championship status on the fight circuit will affect your clan? Have you stopped to think about the separation from them that you will have to endure?”
Miv was well aware of all that. He’d not given it much thought yet since he still had two years left on his sentence of military service. He had plenty of time to figure the particulars out.
He told Lidon, “Things might change before I’m released from my duties. I’m keeping my options open.”
Lidon gave him a look that might have come from one of Miv’s fathers. “At your age, it feels like you have all the time in the universe. It’s easy to see it that way, but as you say, things do change. They have changed already, young Nobek.”
“Sir?”
“Much like your clanmates, your work has been exemplary. You’ve required no disciplinary action since leaving prison and taking up your duties in the military. At least none beyond that one episode where you got your then-future clanmates so drunk they were incapable of working for a full day.”
A part of Miv wanted to grin at that. However, the dark, dangerous face of Lidon quelled that desire in a hurry.
The weapons commander went on. “That particular misjudgment aside, you’ve been a very good addition to the fleet. It spurred a review of your sentence. The parole board agreed that you have done well. They did their complicated calculations and arrived at a number. In short, you’re receiving early dismissal from your sentence.”
Well, that was exciting news. Again, Miv was hard pressed to not smile. “How long do I have left to serve?”
“Five months.”
Miv stared at Lidon. Only five months? His sentence was up in five months? A surge of joy finally overtook him, and he did grin then. “Thank you for the good news, Commander.”
Lidon nodded. “Remember though, as the Book of Life says, ‘Good news comes with new problems for the recipient.’ You now have to address that issue of living separate from your clan for stretches at the time. Since training for the fighting circle is such an intense affair, requiring life in the fighters’ dorms, you will be separated from your new Matara as well.”
Miv’s elation disappeared in an instant. Lidon was right. The professional fighter’s life was spent in training, living among other fighters and under the day-and-night tutelage of coaches. Life as a fighter was regimented with workouts, sparring, fights, and rest all carefully regulated. Simdow and Vadef had voiced no objections, accepting that for Miv to attain his dream of being champion he would live apart from them for the five years that the average fighter’s career lasted. But to be separated from Katherine too, only allowed to see her for a few days each month … suddenly the good news of his early release did not sound so good.
One of Lidon’s brows lifted as he watched Miv come to this sober realization. “I see you now appreciate the circumstances you never considered before. Well, I have delivered the news I came to give you. Get back on duty, Ensign.”
Miv nodded, his reaction automatic since he barely registered what his commanding officer said. “Yes, Commander Lidon.”
The elder Nobek turned and limped away. Miv started for the cargo bay, his brain swirling with the ramifications of what had just happened. Abruptly he swung around and called after Lidon.
“Commander?”
Lidon stopped and turned back towards him. “Yes, Ensign?”
“What do I do?”
He knew how pathetic he must sound, especially to someone as old and experienced as Lidon, but Miv was at a loss. He’d never felt so young and naive in his life.
Lidon did not sneer at his ignorance or the worry in his tone. Instead, he slowly walked back towards Miv. “That is your decision, one you would do well to consult over with the rest of your clan.”
Miv came forward to stand near the elder Nobek. He was grateful Lidon bothered with him. He knew he needed guidance, and the weapons commander knew more about life than anyone else Miv could talk to right now.
He told the respected warrior, “Sir, I think my clan will be just as caught off guard by this as I am. You see, all I know is fighting. It’s all I ever wanted to do. It’s what I was born to do.”
“‘A narrow focus leaves few choices in life and leads to small gains.’” Miv thought Lidon must be quoting from the Book of Life again. It was rumored he had the damned thing memorized.
Lidon went on. “You have an advanced education in biology and anatomy, do you not? You even hold a doctorate, if I’m not mistaken. Sports medicine or physical therapy is not out of the question when it comes to your talents.”
“Yes Commander, but I only studied to enhance my knowledge of how best to train myself and take out my opponents.” Miv grimaced. “I certainly don’t see myself being a doctor.”
Lidon snorted. “Nobeks aren’t known for our bedside manner, are we?” He shook his head at Miv, a wry smile touching his features for a bare instant. “You have to decide what kind of fighting yields the greater rewards, Miv. You can use your fists to gain accolades and glory from the unknown masses, or you can use your strength, body, and mind to keep your clan safe.”
Miv frowned. “It can’t be that easy.”
One side of Lidon’s mouth twisted up into real smile, an amazing event. “Miv, name the five greatest emperors in the Empire’s history.”
Miv blinked. “Sir?”
He expected Lidon to punch him. Lidon was known to despise having to repeat himself to underlings. Yet this time the weapons commander said in a patient voice, “Name the five greatest emperors in the Empire’s history.”
Miv frowned. He could name one of the members of the First Clan. He knew the names of the current emperors who had just taken the throne, as well as those of the Imperial Clan that had immediately preceded them. However, he didn’t know that any of those men could be called the greatest emperors in history.
A bit shamefacedly, he told Lidon, “I never had much interest in history.”
“Then name the five greatest kurble players of all time.”
“I’m not much for kurble either.” Miv winced a little saying that. Lidon and his Dramok were known for their passionate love of the game.
Lidon shrugged off his ignorance. “Fine. I can’t tell you the five greatest fighters that ever lived either, though I’m sure you have an opinion on that. Now name the five most important people who have ever been in your life, who have affected you the greatest.”
Barely thinking about it, Miv rattled off, “Katherine, Simdow, Vadef, my mother, and my sister.”
“That was fast. I find it interesting that you named not one trained fighter among those who you call important.”
Miv stared at the elder Nobek. He understood what Lidon was saying. Suddenly his ambition to be a fight champion seemed almost trivial.
Lidon actually grinned at him. “While you’re figuring things out, think on this, young Nobek: imagine you become the champion fighter that you’ve always aspired to. Now think about five hundred years into the future. How many people will remember your name?”
Miv only continued to stare at him. Even he didn’t know the names of the champions who had fought five hundred years ago.
Lidon kept going. “More importantly, how many of those future people do you actually care about? What do their opinions matter to you?”
Miv wanted to shout at him to be quiet. Lidon was taking Miv’s cherished dream and showing it for how shallow it was, how meaningless it had become in the face of love.
Finally, the weapons commander asked the one question Miv knew the answer to beyond a doubt. “Who is it you wish to impress more than anyone, Miv?”
“My Matara. My Katherine.”
“What will impress her most? Your ability to knock a man out or pound him into submission? Or that you are there to keep her safe and happy?”
Lidon had laid it out, plain and simple. There was only one answer he hadn’t given Miv. “But without fighting, I don’t know what to do with my life.”
Lidon shrugged. “Then you must open your eyes and see the other paths before you, the ones you’ve been blind to because all you saw before was the one.” Lidon looked him over, his shrewd gaze no doubt seeing how he’d just ripped Miv’s future to shreds and left him with nothing, no way to care for Katherine and make her proud of him.
“Good luck, Miv. Now get back to work and stop wasting my time.” With that, Lidon turned and limped away.
Simdow sat at a computer on the ship’s bridge. His shift was over and he was eager to get to his quarters and see Katherine. However, the end of his duty was the only opportunity he had to catch up on postings from Fleet Command that had nothing to do with his current mission.
He noted with excitement that an opening had come up for a first officer on a destroyer. He quickly put in his application for the position. He had a record of outstanding service on the spyship, and his part in this latest effort resulting in the capture of General Hamilton and over 100 fertile Mataras would no doubt put him ahead of many candidates.
For those in the Empire’s space fleet, no other assignment matched the glory of serving on board a destroyer. Simdow looked forward to the day when he would be the captain of one of those illustrious vessels, the greatest line of defense for Kalquor. The day he attained that rank would be one of pride for his adoptive parents, the clan that had offered a lonely boy a real family. They were the ones he always looked to impress, and so far he hadn’t let them down in any significant way. His recognized Dramok and Imdiko father would be pleased as well.
Simdow thought with the old but now dim hurt that his recognized Nobek father would not care that his son had climbed to the pinnacle of his chosen field. Simdow told himself that it didn’t matter; he’d given up on making his legal father accept him as a son.
He cast the long-absent parent from his thoughts as he’d been cast from that man’s life. With a quick prayer to the ancestors, Simdow sent in his application.
He stood and looked to the man standing in the center of the bridge surrounded by helm, security, and navigation stations. Captain Tranis stared moodily at the large vid showing the wide expanse of space at the forward part of the bridge. Simdow thought it strange that the handsome bearded captain was not as anticipatory about the coming fight as the rest of the crew. Maybe Tranis was bothered by the ship’s lighting, brighter than what any of them was used to. It certainly gave Simdow a headache.