Xyon kept his silence. As difficult as it was, he said nothing. His hands flexed and strained at his sides but he did not lash out in anger or righteous rage.

Perhaps what kept him in place was shock. Shock and, though he was loathe to admit it, awe. But who wouldn't be awed? The man before him had freed an entire planet. People everywhere back home lauded his name; Xyon had grown up in the shadow of the man. He hated him.

Xyon's clever eyes took in the sight of him. The most striking aspect was the aged scar that marred his face. Xyon knew the story of that scar, every child growing up on Xenex heard the story of that scar as they were sent off to sleep by mothers or older siblings. The story comforted them as they drifted off to dream of the glorious battles of days past.

He watched as the man cavalierly greeted back his crew and his resentment grew; the fact that the man could have such bonds with his subordinates but had not bothered to even know his own and only son. Then the man turned to him and held out a hand, Xyon supposed in was in some sort of greeting. Clenching his hands to his sides, Xyon merely nodded cautiously. Feeling something more needed to be said, he added, "I thank you for taking in my ship." He could hear the strain in his voice but hoped his internal struggle was not too obvious to others. The man, the captain of the federation ship, studied him closely. Xyon stiffened under his scrutiny and his fingernails dug into the calluses on his palms.

Finally, the man said, calmly and soothingly- almost as if he were trapping a wild and terrified creature, "No, I should be thanking you for taking are of my crew." Said crew was giving their captain peculiar looks. Xyon managed another nod in reply.

After a short interchange, the crew went on their way and Riella no, Kalinda, went off with her brother. All that remained were the captain and Xyon. "My ship ---" Xyon started.

"It will be repaired" The captain assured. But Xyon nearly lashed out in his anger, how dare that man talk over him. Perhaps the captain saw, somehow, the flare of anger within him, but misinterpreted it because he calmly suggested, "We will supply quarters for you to stay in." Xyon said nothing not trusting his voice. He wanted to start screaming, shouting the hypocrisies of the man who stood before. His fingers clenched tighter and drew blood. Xyon, well versed with the scent, recognized it….and so did the captain. The captain, Xyon refused to call him by any other name, seemed to recognize it too and gave him an enigmatic stare.

Terror clinched Xyon's heart. Thoughts raced and tumbled through his mind, Did he know? How had he guessed? Surely he knew, the man knows everything. Odd, how everything he had faced before never seemed as terror inspiring as the man that stood before him now. The room seemed chilled as he broke out into a cold sweat. Muscle tremors raced across his tensed form. Later, he would berate himself for his loss of composure and his fallacious thinking, but truly, at the time they seemed valid.

Captain Mackenzie, known by Mac to friends, found their newest guests peculiar. The princess Kalinda was expected to be somewhat odd, she was a relation of Siwan after all…but her rescuer seemed…off and uneasy. There were a number of valid reasons for him to be so. He was on a strange ship with his own damaged and therefore at the mercy of those who repair it. Another explanation was that he could be wary of the Federation in general. But Mac's gut feeling told him without a doubt that it was none of those.

Rather, the young man seemed perfectly calm and even slightly amused when he first was beamed aboard the ship. Mac had watched him view the others with detached, grey eyes, even while he kept close to the princess. But then the young man had caught sight of himself and his grey eyes flared into tempestuous storms. Emotions flickered across his face almost too quickly for Mackenzie to read. Mac did catch an unhealthy amount of anger and resentment before the unlikely rescuer's face and eyes were firmly controlled into a mask of stone. While the face was unreadable, the body language of the young man was still clearly readable. His arms and shoulders shuddered as if under a great strain and his fingernails dug into the rough palms of his hands, all signs of distress. Thankfully, the young man was civil. Mac noted his incomprehension of the proffered hand and deduced that the man had little to no encounters with Humans before, even thought the young man looked human, albeit a rugged and well built one. The princess's rescuer kept his words to a minimum and the few words were masked not allowing Mac to tell if he had any peculiar accent.

He sent the young man, barely a man even, off to temporary quarters. While the boy was interesting, he had other problems on his hands. Like, one Si Cwan was enough, but now he has to deal with two?