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Star Trek - TOS - Battlestations

Page 23

by Diane Carey


  for me to wish that you live long and prosper." He

  spoke slowly now, without the edgy tone of underlying

  rebellion that had always been there before. Backing

  out into the corridor, maintaining his expression, he

  vanished.

  My hand reached out for Sarda, who was already

  moving.

  "Sarda, wait!" I gasped.

  He paused at the door, cast a glance back at me, and

  fitfully gripped the stone for an instant as though

  hoping to find something to say that would explain. He

  was torn in half. Even a Vulcan couldn't hide that

  much torment.

  He pushed himself off the door frame. We heard his

  boots on the hard floor of the passageway.

  "Sarda!" I started for the door.

  Scanner's voice caught me back for an instant.

  "Piper, I got it!"

  I drew an invisible circle around him and the doctors

  with my finger as I skidded to a stop at the doorway.

  "Beam up! I'll contact youl"

  Deep Argelian night had thoroughly penetrated the

  stone building now that most of the electricity had

  been strangled. I was tired of feeling cold. I'd only felt

  warm once since leaving Earth, and that was because

  of a Klingon growling at my throat. Even running

  through the building failed to heat my blood. The

  injured muscles in my back screamed with each stride,

  and my head pounded now whenever I took a breath.

  At every turn I caught a glimpse of Sarda. He was

  healthy and fast; keeping up with him was terrible

  work. At the turn of the last corridor, I gave in to a

  useless urge and called once again, "Sarda, wait--"

  To my utter amazement, he whirled around and

  stopped. Was he surprised that I followed? Had he

  forgotten so much?

  195

  He turned again, in time to see Perren's distant form

  retreat into a smaller building.

  I jogged to a halt a few feet from Sarda and steadied

  myself with a hand on the wall. He turned once again

  to me, hesitantly at best.

  "He's probably getting the last of his equipment," I

  said, drawing a deep breath, "before he signals Mor-

  nay to beam him up."

  Sarda gazed once again through the night at the

  other building, now still and darkened. When he

  turned back to me, the quandary in his eyes was

  frightening. His fists balled up. I doubt he was even

  aware of it.

  "I cannot leave Perren in this situation," he said.

  I closed the space between us by another step.

  "You're not leaving him. He's leaving you."

  With a step of his own, he widened the gap. "Piper,

  you do not comprehend Vulcan complexities. I have

  no time to explain them to you."

  With a nod I showed him that he was right. Slowly I

  asked, "Do you really think Perten doesn't under-

  stand what he's involved in?"

  Inner struggle tightened his mouth. "That is no

  excuse to abandon him."

  My shoulders sagged as I tried to think of logical

  arguments. But even a partially trained Vulcan knows

  his own thoughts. If he had made up his mind to forfeit

  the past for the future, even a hazy future, I knew no

  power in the universe could pull him back.

  When arguments were not enough, when logic could

  only fail, it was time to go beyond them. My shoulders

  squared as I backed away a pace, showing him that I

  was ready to accept his decision.

  "Then you'll have to choose."

  Sarda no longer glanced indecisively at the building

  that had swallowed Perten only moments ago. His

  eyes lost their focus as he gazed at me, and I felt

  196

  utterly unseen. Perhaps he was searching for a way to

  explain the inexplicable. With my silence I hoped to

  show him that no explanation was necessary. As for

  my own message, my presence on this planet would

  have to speak for itself.

  Sarda privately navigated his sea of uncharted emo-

  tions without help from me, for I could no longer help

  him, no matter how much I wanted to.

  He raised his chin a fraction. "There is only one

  choice," he said, his voice solemn and low.

  I willed myself not to nod, to flinch, or even to

  breathe. I wouldn't show the tiniest hint of feeling

  betrayed. I hadn't been betrayed, after all; he had

  simply made the best decision for himself. That was all

  I had any right to ask of him.

  Searching for the final words, the words that would

  get me smoothly out of this terrible last encounter,

  gave Sarda an extra few moments.

  His arms relaxed at his sides. "I go with you."

  197

  Chapter Ten

  "The trigger has been pulled. We've got to get there

  before the hammer falls."

  --Errand of Mercy

  WHEN WE GOT back to the ship, it was unfortunately

  in the same shape as when we left. I finally had to

  admit Rex wasn't just an industrial nightmare but the

  ship I was stuck with. It felt pathetic and small as we

  gazed out the viewing portals at the pure beauty of

  Enterprise, her design still striking me as elemental. I

  would probably always get this shock of awe at a

  glimpse of a starship, and I would probably never get

  used to it or take it for granted. Engineers and space

  technologists may have designed her, but they shared

  the heart of an artist.

  "Are we in one piece, Scanner?" I asked, leaning

  over his shoulder, still peering at the starship in orbit

  several degrees farther out.

  "Functional," he answered with a shrug. Even so,

  he tapped several linkages just to check.

  "How long will it take them to install transwarp?"

  From behind me came a mellow voice finally free of

  its stress. "Perren has become most efficient in his

  engineering," Sarda said. "He and Boma can install

  the complex into a starship's warp system in roughly

  eighteen hours. Likely they will not do it right away,

  but retreat to a safe haven where 'they have access to

  other people who are also followers of Rittenhouse."

  I nodded my thanks to him. His presence still sur-

  198

  prised me, but I was finally warm. In our crisis aboard

  the dreadnought those few weeks ago, he had been

  forced to stay at my side because of circumstances.

  Today the decision was his own. For the first time in a

  long time, I stopped worrying about what Captain

  Kirk thought of me. Sarda's testimonial was all I

  needed. Even now I felt the warm buzz of telepathic

  support from him, a subtle echo behind my thoughts

  that gave me that extra supporting nudge. I still

  couldn't interpret that buzz--whether it was inten-

  tional or not, whether it was normal for Vulcans or

  not--but it was welcome, deeply so.

  "We have to act immediately," I said, sliding into

  the command chair. The new leather breathed under

  me and cradled my legs and back as though it knew 1

  was still fier
cely aching from Geit's assault. As ff to

  remind me, the Klingon disruptor I'd taken from one

  of the unconscious swine dug into my rib. I pulled it

  from my belt and handed it to Merete; Sarda did the

  same with his. Scanner wisely vacated the seat beside

  me and moved to the navigation/sensor station farther

  to the right, allowing Sarda to take the place beside

  me.

  "What do you have in mind?" Dr. McCoy asked

  with a controlled touch of incredulity. He was leaning

  forward in one of the passenger chairs, watching his

  home ship and no doubt wishing he was there to do his

  part.

  I empathized with his frustration, and it kindled my

  sense of purpose. "We've got to keep them from

  warping out of orbit."

  Every eye in the ship struck me. Scanner straight-

  ened up like a long skinny balloon and yelped, "Oh,

  yeah? While we're at it, let's rearrange the solar

  system so the planets all line up in a row."

  McCoy leaned even farther forward. "This ship

  against a starship?"

  "Sure," Scanner mocked. "If you can get me within

  199

  fifty meters, I can cut 'em up with my little laser torch.

  If you can get me within ten, we got a claw. S'pose

  they'd notice?"

  The doctor ignored him. "Wouldn't it make more

  sense just to get away and notify Star Fleet?"

  "By the time Star Fleet could get out here," I said,

  "Mornay could have taken Enterprise anywhere in the

  known galaxy. They're not leaving this system if I can

  help it."

  "Piper, we don't even have phasers big enough to

  carve a moustache on that ship's face," Scanner said,

  pointing descriptively.

  An unexpected voice interrupted us. "Leave her

  alone."

  Gazes shifted again, this time aft. Merete stood

  alone in the obscurity of the hatchway, one hand

  braced upon the ship's gnarly bulkhead as though to

  say she trusted it. Her face was eclipsed by a band of

  shadow. The hem of her robe made a purple wedge in a

  walklight, and at the shadow's top a crescent of pearl-

  blond hair shone in the glow of a tiny bulb near an

  electrical access. Beyond that, there was nothing of

  her to focus on but her intense presence of purpose.

  "Piper is our commanding officer," she said. "We're

  going to do what she says and we're not going to argue

  anymore. ff we die," she added softly, "then we die

  well."

  Merete was so quiet and unobtrusive that I often

  forgot how much I told her, how much of my past and

  my present thoughts she kept diligently stored for me,

  things I'd said both intentionally and unintentionally.

  Only when one of those things surfaced at exactly the

  right moment, thanks to her sensitive timing, did I

  remember to appreciate her. I wouldn't forget again

  for a long, long time.

  True to the drama of the moment, she never moved.

  She let her words sink deep into the fabric of what was

  to come, and drew no more attention to herself. She

  200

  wanted me to have the attention, we all knew. Even

  Dr. McCoy settled back as though he too somehow felt

  better about all this.

  Sarda moved slightly, switching from helm tracking

  to the computer readout screen before him. It cast a

  fine blue glow on his pale alien features. "The Enter-

  prise is moving out of orbit on impulse power. Taking a

  heading of point three-seven."

  "Heading out of the solar system," I uttered.

  "When they get clear of the planets, they'!! go to

  warp. Follow them. Just don't get so close that they'll

  want to fire on us. They'll know we're coming."

  "I can already hear 'em laughing," Scanner said.

  "Let's hope they are, Scanner," I countered imme-

  diately. "It's an advantage not to be taken as a threat

  tOO soon."

  "They won't fire on you," Dr. McCoy pointed out.

  "It's a waste of energy. They know they can outrun us

  at warp."

  I looked at Sarda, and he silently confirmed the

  logic. Obviously Leonard McCoy hadn't spent all

  those years aboard a starship without learning a thing

  or two about military logistics.

  "Thank you, sir," I said to him, then hunched

  forward on my command console as we eased out of

  orbit and slipped into the path of the distant star-

  ship.

  Rex's old impulse engines grumbled, but soon

  pushed us up to the speed of Enterprise and even a

  little beyond. We gained on her slowly, while three of

  the system's planets rolled by. Four other planets were

  well out of our trajectory and only one remained for us

  to pass before we cleared the solar system.

  "Scanner, how do these terrific tractor beams of

  yours work?" I asked.

  His boyish face screwed up. "Huh?"

  "How do you haul something that's heavier than

  your engine thrust capacity?"

  201

  "For short range, you anchor on the nearest planet

  or moon and use it for traction."

  "Can we brace on a planet and hold Enterprise?"

  "Hold Enterprise? Well, I guess so, long as she's in

  orbit or somethin', but--" "No buts."

  "You gotta have some buts, Piper." He spun his

  chair around to face me. "We can't hold a ship the size

  of Enterprise against her own thrust, not even if we

  hang onto a whole sun. We could tow her, but only if

  she was adrift." The acrid tone was gone from his

  voice, likely driven out by Merete's blanketing prom-

  ise. I particularly noticed it.

  "How closely can you pinpoint the tractor beams?"

  "Hell, I could pull the yoke out of an egg at 20,000

  kilometers."

  "Good," I murmured. "That's good."

  "I give. Why's it good?"

  My right shoulder went up and down once. "You

  said this ship is a Fesarius. Let's see what it can really

  do."

  Scanner puffed up at that comment. He had no idea

  what I had in mind, but he was suddenly anxious to

  prove the truth of his own promise. Even if it killed us.

  ff it didn't work, none of us would be around to flay

  him with an 1-told-you-so.

  "Sarda," I began, "pinpoint the joist where the port

  warp nacelle is attached to its strut and feed the

  coordinates into Scanner's tractor beam. That's what I

  want, Scanner. Put a lariat of traction right around that

  joist."

  It was so wild he couldn't even think of anything to

  say. He blinked hard and took a deep breath, then

  glared accusingly at his equipment as though to get a

  mental running start on it.

  "Make the beam as tight as possible," I instructed. I

  punched the nearest computer access switch. "Com-

  puter."

  202

  "Working," the pleasant voice answered.

  "Release all safety monitors, overload capacitors,

  and limiters for the tractor system to manual control at

  the helm station."

  "Ac
knowledged."

  Good. No arguments from underneath either. I

  needed that.

  Scanner shook his head, unable to resist a 50 per-

  cent grin. "That's the first time I ever heard anybody

  ask a ship's permission to rip its guts out." He

  squinted and peered at me over his shoulder. "You

  sure you got enough authority to do this?"

  I gripped the arms of my chair. "Power up the warp

  engines. Zero thrust. Power only. Sarda, feed the

  energy through to that tractor beam. We've got a lot of

  starship to pull on."

  "Powering up. Maximum in twenty-point-seven

  seconds." Even as he spoke, Banana Republic began

  humming with bottled warp power.

  "Hold at maximum," I said. "Go to two-thirds

  sublight, heading sixty degrees subport."

  "At that rate," Sarda read out slowly, "we will be

  within tractor range of Enterprise in... one minute,

  eighteen seconds."

  "When will we be in tractor range of that last

  planet?"

  "We are nearly there now."

  "Scanner, get ready to grab onto the planet. I think

  you know what I want to do."

  Perhaps it was fortuitous that he only nodded. He

  bent close to his sensor console, coordinating the

  impossible.

  I put my glare unfiinchingly upon the ivory essence

  of Enterprise. In my mind the starship had sails. She

  surged now through an ocean of splash and stars, but

  there were no steady hazel eyes gazing over her bow.

  She knew he wasn't on her bridge and she felt help-

  less, like a warship with no rudder, rampaging franti-

  203

  caUy through a blockade. She was calling out to me.

  I had finally reached the point at which sacrifice is

  more than bravery's flag. Finally, my life meant less

  than my mission. Never before had I truly believed 1

  would die, much less take these four fine lives with

  me. Fail, yes. Die... no.

  But now, this time, I was ready.

  "Piper, they're outrunning us," Sarda said, urgency

  spiking his words.

  I clutched the command console. "Don't let them. If

  they warp out before we can engagemMerete!" I

  snapped. "Get to Scanner's station and keep your

  eyes on the matteffantimatter flux monitor for Enter-

 

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