"Ah, Dax, I've always known. You told me, that first night, when you were drunk, about your home, your father, and your friend Dare who would one day have been king." He shrugged. "But I thought that if you wished to keep it to yourself after that, it was your business."

He turned again to go, but Dax stopped him. "Rox?" His old friend turned back again. "I..." His throat was suddenly tight, and all he could manage was, "Thanks."

Roxton stood there for a long, silent moment. At last he said, almost distantly, "I had a son once, you know."

Dax stared; he hadn't known. In all these years, he hadn't known.

"He died," the first mate went on, "when the Coalition swept over Clarion. I would like to think, had he lived, he would have made me as proud as you have." He left then, closing the door on a stunned and embarra.s.sed Dax.

"You look worried."

"I am," Dax conceded, his expression halfheartedly rueful, wholeheartedly apprehensive.

He looked at Califa, then glanced around the bridge. The others were intent on their tasks as they neared Trios; approaching a world which was, in essence, at war with the Coalition was not something to be done haphazardly. This was the first time he had been on the bridge since their return from Darvis II, and while he felt steady enough, he knew he didn't exactly look like the embodiment of good health, and his stamina was still a bit questionable.

Still, it felt good to be up. It seemed all he'd done was sleep, when he should have been antic.i.p.ating their arrival at Trios. But then maybe that was for the best; the antic.i.p.ation he'd felt in the last hour since he'd walked onto the bridge was about to do him in.

"I didn't really...think this far ahead," he admitted, in a voice too low for the others to hear.

"Because," Califa pointed out with wry astuteness, "you didn't expect toget this far. You thought you'd be dead long before now."

Dax sighed. "Are you going to start chewing on me again?"

"Maybe."

He wasn't going to admit that she was right. She already knew that. He truly hadn't expected that they'd get this far. Or at least, he hadn't expectedhe would.

He wondered if this apparent death wish that he'd finally realized he hadthat Califa seemed to have always known abouthad something to do with his certainty that were he ever to reach this point, of coming home, that it would be futile. As he'd told her, he'd broken nearly every Triotian law that existed; they weren't about to welcome him with open arms no matter what he did. They might thank him for the return of five Triotians, six counting Rina, but that would hardly absolve him of five years of crimes that were among the most odious to any Triotian of blood.

No, in the end he would be left with even less than he'd begun with; even theEvening Star would no longer be his. Although if the crew decided to continue as sky-pirates, they might let him rejoin themif he was still alive. In time of war, it was within Dare's power to order his execution, and he just might do it for a man he must consider a deserter, if not a traitor.

What would Califa do? he wondered. He'd toyed briefly, as he lay recovering from the strain of the flashbow, with an image of her staying aboard theEvening Star, with him. But that was no life for a woman, even one as strong as Califa, always among men, and rough ones at that. He'd seen that when Rina had taken to her so quickly; he hadn't realized the girl's need for another female to talk to.

Rina. She wasn't going to like it when she found out she would be staying on Trios. They would welcome her, he was sure. She was a child, and had had no choice about the life she'd led. He let out a compressed breath. Maybe she wouldn't mind it, after all. He had little enough to give her- When he was through here, he would have little enough to give anyone.

He glanced at Califa, facing at last the true source of his disquiet. He couldn't begin to describe the feeling that had come over him when Den had said that she had cried when she thought him dead. She'd admitted she would mourn for him, but that this woman, this strong, brave woman who no doubt never let herself cry, would cry for him moved him beyond words. He had faced the fact that, however undeserving he was, she cared for him. And, he had acknowledged at last, after a long time spent cradling the marble snowfox in his hands, that he cared for her. More than he was comfortable admitting. But he had nothing to offer anyone, let alone a woman like Califa. She deserved peace, after what she had suffered, not the crazed, risky existence of a sky-pirate. He would fulfill his promise, he would find a way to free her from the collar, even if he had to bargain for it with his life. And then she would go, to build a life of her own. And she would be much better off. He watched her as she glanced at the rank of viewports, where the glowing orb that was Trios was drawing closer.

"I wonder," she said slowly, "if Shaylah is still...with him."

Dax had no answer for that, but he wondered silently if whatever had happened between Dare and his Coalition captain had been a fraction as complicated as things were now between him and Califa.

"They won't just let you through, you know," she said. "Whatever they have that's holding off the Coalition will work on us, too. What will you tell them?"

Dax's mouth quirked. "That's the part I haven't thought about yet."

She gave him a sideways look. "I suggest you start, then. We'll be at the edge of their s.p.a.ce in a few minutes."

Dax felt his stomach knot. Why in Hades had he ever begun this? What demon in his obviously demented mind had made him think it might work?

"Why don't you turn on the identifier?" Califa suggested quietly. "And keep a frequency open? At least then they may give us a chance to prove we're not a Coalition ship before they blast us."

She was right. They rarely used the automatically transmitted, repeating code that identified them as the cargo shipEvening Star skypirates didn't make a habit of announcing their presence or the name of their ship but it might give them at least a chance to explain.

He turned to the console beside the command chair and flicked two b.u.t.tons. Larcos turned to look back at him, startled, then appeared to think about it. He nodded, and turned back to the scanners before him.

Dax stopped himself from pacing, but only barely as they flew on. The crew apparently found no oddity in Califa's presence on the bridge; she had clearly established herself with them. It had been Larcos who had told him most of the men had guessed she had been in some position of command, and no doubt with the Coalition. But they had also learned this far too late for any of them to hold it against her now; she had proved herself to them time and again.

As she had to him, although he'd been nearly too d.a.m.ned blind to see it. He knew what he'd done in the cell on Darvis II had done much to make it up to her, but "Cargo shipEvening Star This is the Triotian High Council! State your purpose or reverse your course!"

Dax felt himself pale, and he suddenly sank down in the command chair, all strength gone from his legs.

"My G.o.d," he whispered, shaken. "It's Dare."

Chapter 24.

It was Roxton who finally answered.

"Triotian High Council, this is first mate Roxton of theEvening Star. We have...er, cargo to be delivered."

The voice came back, strong, deep, and with an undertone of amus.e.m.e.nt. Dax felt a shiver ripple up his spine at the sound of the voice he'd thought never to hear again. Roxton shook his head, as if he couldn't quite believe he was standing here talking to a king.

"And I suppose you'd like us to lower our shields and allow you to land?"

Dax shook his head sharply. Roxton merely nodded and waved at him calmingly; the first mate, at least, had obviously thought about this in advance. And it was a good thing, Dax thought wryly, since his brain seemed to have stopped working; he'd never expected Dare to be their challenger. But he should have, he realized. Dare had never been one to use his royalty to shirk the more ordinary tasks, and he supposed when your numbers were so limited, even the king had to take his turn at sentry duty.

"No, sir," Roxton said respectfully. "We wouldn't think of it. Request permission to orbit and send down a shuttle."

All humor vanished from the voice, leaving nothing but the cool, tough tone of a leader.

"We neither expect, nor have we ordered any...cargo."

"He's learned that caution the hard way," Roxton muttered. Then, louder, "With all due respect, I think you'll want this cargo."

"We are at war, first mate Roxton. What could be worth the risk of letting down our shields to a stranger?"

Roxton glanced at Dax. Dax nodded. Roxton took a breath, then answered.

"Triotians, sir."

There was a long, tense moment of silence. "Explain." The order was short, sharp, and rang with command.

"Several of them, sir." At another nod from Dax, he added, "Two of them will need medical attention."

Another pause. Dax knew Dare would do almost anything for his people, and that the mention that two were injured was, if not quite fair, an effective lever he wasn't above using. Besides, it was true. Fleuren needed attention for her legs, and the ailing Triotian they'd picked up from Zenox still hadn't recovered enough to even give them his name.

"Who is your captain?"

Dax shook his head again. If Dare learned now who he was, they might never get down to the surface.

"He's...readying the shuttle now. He wishes to be certain everyone arrives safely."

"Commendable," the voice said dryly, "but not the answer to my question."

"He will accompany our pa.s.sengers in the shuttle, sir. You will meet him then."

"We have an ancient saying on Trios, about buying a blowpig in a bag. Are you familiar with it?"

Roxton laughed appreciatively at the words and the drollery in the voice. "I admire a cautious man, sir. I'm one myself. But I a.s.sure you, we are not a Coalition trick. All of us aboard theEvening Star are far too familiar with such underhanded dealings."

"While you, of course, are the finest of law-abiding citizens."

The mockery was still intense. Dax wondered if he was going to have to use the temptation of himself to punish as bait to get Dare to let them land.

"Now, there are those who might not call us such," Roxton said, "but the chances are good they would be in Coalition uniform."

"Why do I get the feeling that if you'd sailed our seas in an ancient era, there would have been crossbones on your banner?"

Roxton laughed again, and glanced at Dax. "He's quite a man, your king." Then, turning back to the communications console, "Perhaps there is need of such men in this era, sir. And who is to say who are the true pirates?"

When the voice came again, there was the slightest hint of genuine amus.e.m.e.nt. "Who, indeed? Send, your shuttle. But be aware, the rumors you may have heard are true. The weapons guarding our docking port and the city are fusion cannons."

Roxton's eyes widened. He hit a switch on the panel and looked back at Dax, who glanced at Califa. Looking very solemn, she nodded. "I heard the rumors. It makes sense, for nothing less would hold off the Coalition so effectively. But how...?"

Dax shrugged. "Dare is good with weapons, as well. Go ahead, Rox."

The first mate swallowed, then released the switch he'd pressed. "Er...yes, sir."

"No weapons aboard the shuttle. Flight crew limited to two." Dare was giving orders now, quickly, easily, with the air of a man who was accustomed to having them obeyed. "You have one hour. We will await your message that you are at the docking port shield. It will open for two minutes, the time it takes to traverse it. Two minutesonly."

"Clever," Roxton muttered. "No time to prepare any tricks, were we of a mind to."

"And a final warning, Roxton, to your anonymous captain. If there is the slightest sign of trickery, or even of weapons aboard your vessel being armed, we will blast you out of the sky, and he can watch the explosion. Before he pays the price."

The communication ended with an audible click. Roxton turned to Dax.

"He's a tough man."

"He's had to be," Dax whispered.

And Dare had become everything King Galen had ever hoped he would be; this was a king who could truly lead. Who could pull a tiny bunch of survivors together enough to hold off what some said was the mightiest force in the universe. Who could do it, and win. Trios was not lost, would never be lost, not as long as Dare was alive.

His gaze flicked to Califa. She was staring at the communications console as if the contact were still open. At last she seemed to feel his gaze and turned; her expression was an odd combination of awe and fierce remorse.

"He is...extraordinary," she said. Dax nodded. Then, so lowly only he could hear, she added, "And I was the most arrogant of fools to think that I owned him."

Dax went still. Incredible as it seemed, he'd almost forgotten. He supposed it was a mark of how far they'd come. The skypirate and the Coalition officer, he thought, a little awed himself. With a muddled past and a nonexistent future. At least together; Califa could have a chance to "Uh, Cap'n, we'd better get that shuttle ready"

"Yes," Dax said, snapping out of his reverie. "Tell Nelcar to ready the small shuttle, and start moving the people."

Roxton's brow furrowed. "Wouldn't the larger shuttle be easier? With all those pa.s.sengers"

"No, Rox. You may need the larger one, sometime."

"Yes, but"

"The moment we touch down," Dax said, cutting him off, "you get theEvening Star out of here."

Roxton blinked. "What?"

"The moment the shuttle touches down she's yours, and the crew's. As promised. Take her, Rox, and good running."

Roxton stared at him. "Now? And just leave you here? But you don't even know what's going to happen down there, what they're going to do."

"What I do know," Dax said flatly, "is that the moment Dare sees me, he's liable to blast you out of the sky anyway. I don't want you to be around by that time."

The entire bridge crew was staring at him now.

"You said you might fly with us again," Larcos began, his eyes troubled.

He didn't point out that if he was still alive, he'd find them, and if not, it hardly mattered.

"There's no time for this," he said. "Let's get moving."

He walked away, wondering why he'd ever thought this would be easier if he avoided a long goodbye. He was walking to the shuttle bay when he realized Califa was at his heels. He stopped. He didn't turn, he didn't look at her, he just stared down the pa.s.sageway. It was as empty as he feared the rest of his life would be. However long that was.

"Roxton will take you to Scoran," he said at last; he would keep this promise, at least. "There is a laser-surgeon there who owes me a favor. He will remove the collar."

"Dax"

"Then Rox will take you wherever you wish to go. Or you might wish to stay on Scoran. It's a nice enough place, and distant enough to be relatively safe. With only one outpost, no one's likely to know of you there."

"No," Califa said.

"All right. You're welcome to go back to the storehouse until you decide what to do. It's not"

"I'm going to Trios."

He stared at her. "What?"