Chapter 23

Chapter 23

The salty tang of blood filled his mouth. Brett swished his tongue around to feel for the damage. He couldn’t find the source of the blood. Then he realized the salty taste came from the dried animal leg lying by his face.

He rolled onto his back, staring up at the hunks of dried meat hanging from the ceiling. The pieces came back to him slowly. The dinner party. Streng talking with someone. Following the stranger up here to the storeroom. Finally, the knock on the head, followed by the stranger retreating down the stairs towards the party.

That meant whoever had knocked him out was downstairs. Though by now he or she was probably long gone. And he didn’t have any kind of description to give the prime minister’s security. The trail was as cold as a Vulcan prostitute.

With a groan, Brett got to his feet and staggered back to the doorway to collect his dinner jacket. He slipped the jacket back on, trying to make himself look somewhat presentable before he went downstairs to all the dignitaries.

The party continued with a band having set up on one side of the room, warbling and screeching to create what must pass for Serparnian music. The noise did nothing to alleviate the pounding in his head. He stumbled through the small groups of guests until he literally ran into Robyn.

“Commander, there you are. I thought you might have gone back to your quarters for the night,” Robyn said.

“I need to talk with you right away, sir. There may be a problem,” Brett said, not wanting to elaborate in the company of anyone else. He couldn’t be sure who had knocked him out or if that individual might still be in the room.

Robyn met his gaze and must have picked up on the pleading in his eyes. “Of course, Commander. It’s been good talking with you, Inspector Symil,” Robyn said, bowing to a Serparnian with moss-colored scales. “What’s wrong?” she whispered into his ear once they separated themselves from the guests.

“I saw our friend the chief steward having a pretty intense discussion with someone, so I tried to find out who it was. All I got for my trouble was a nasty bump on the head.” He touched the back of his head, didn’t feel any blood.

“Did you see who did it?”

“No idea. Someone strong and pretty handy with blunt instruments.”

“That narrows it down. Maybe we should have a chat with the chief steward then.”

“There’s no point. He won’t admit to anything. It’ll just make things more awkward.”

“You’re probably right.” Robyn opened the door for Brett. Once it closed behind them, she held up a finger. “Are you sure you’re all right? We can get you back to the ship for a full examination.”

“I’ll be fine. I’ve been through a lot worse.” He forced a smile to his face to soothe Robyn’s concerns. “At least it gave me an excuse to get out of that party.”

She kept a hand on his shoulder the entire way back to his room no matter how many times he assured her he didn’t need the help. Her fingers dug into the fabric of his dinner jacket, letting him know she wouldn’t let him fall. When they reached his room, she even helped him down onto the sleeping pad to make sure he didn’t do any further damage to his head.

“Want to tuck me in?” he asked. “Read me a bedtime story?”

To his surprise, she didn’t leave. Instead, she sat down on the pad next to him and took off her dinner jacket. “I don’t like this,” she said. “You could have been killed.”

“If he wanted to kill me he had the chance.”

“Maybe something scared him off.”

“Maybe. It doesn’t matter right now.” Brett stretched out on the pad in search of a comfortable position. “Where’s Hurd? Still working on the archives?”

“He should be. I’ll see if I can find him. Will you be all right in here alone for a few minutes?”

“I’m fine. How many times do I have to tell you?”

Her face fell at this rebuke. She nodded and then left the room quickly. Another time he might have gotten up to go after her, but his head still ached and despite what he said, his legs felt a little wobbly. She was a Starfleet captain; she would get over the chastisement.

Using the dinner jacket for a pillow, he closed his eyes to sleep. What felt like a second later, he heard the door open. He scrambled to find a weapon, but the only thing at hand was his pillow. He pitched it towards the door anyway.

“Brett, it’s us,” Robyn said. She turned on the lights so he could see her standing in the doorway with Hurd at her side. “Lieutenant Hurd might have found your friend with the scar.”

“I was checking through the military records when I came across someone matching your description.” Hurd took out a datapadd, bringing up the picture of a Serparnian. His hood was undamaged and his face unscarred in the picture, but the eyes stood out in Brett’s mind.

“Who is this guy?” he asked.

“Slonix, formerly a captain in their planetary defense forces. Here’s the interesting part: he was on the Sunigwil.”

“That’s impossible. No one survived.”

“Exactly, Brett,” Robyn said. “But somehow this guy did. He survived and built that ship to come after you and the Federation.”

Brett considered this for a moment. “If that’s true, then how did he pay for it? I can’t imagine a planetary defense captain is a high-paying job.”

“We’re not sure about that yet, but at least we have an idea about who this guy is now. That’s a start,” Robyn said.

“I’ll see if I can access their archives tomorrow and find out anything else about him. If he’s been in hiding all these years he has to have an alias,” Hurd said.

“Great. In the meantime if you two don’t mind I’d like to go back to sleep. Would you mind giving me back my pillow?”

“Sure. You get some rest. I’ll be right down the hall,” Robyn said. She folded up the dinner jacket and tucked it beneath his head again. On the way out, she turned off the light, leaving Brett in darkness except for the light from the datapadd.

Brett held up the pad, looking into the face of the Serparnian who wanted him dead. Slonix had been on that ship with his family. They were dead but somehow he’d survived. And nursed a grudge all this time. Not just against Brett, the triggerman, but against the entire Federation.

Now he’d come back to collect.