"If it is... so much the better," the creature said with annoying cheerfulness.
"The fact is, I love a challenge, and danger is intriguing. So, I leave you to lick your wounds. Do give your masters my warmest regards."
The only amount of satisfaction that Atik was able to take at that particular moment was that the creature didn't turn his back on him. Instead he backed up, keeping bis disruptor leveled, even though Atik was clearly injured and not in much shape to be any sort of threat whatsoever.
Behind him, the oddly shaped ship that Atik had seen before rippled into view, the side hatch opening up so that the creature was able to step into it without taking a backward glance. He nodded slightly to Atik, as if giving him a tongue-in-cheek salute, and then the door irised shut.
Atik staggered to his feet, growling in impotent fury, as the ship lifted off.
Moments later, as another explosion seized the town, and then a third, the ship with the target of the Dogs of War hurtled away into the sky.
VU.
THE REPORTS WERE COMING in from everywhere. Fr'Col didn't know where to look or who to listen to first. His people were crowding into his office, pointing and shouting and crying out. They were covered with ash, or bleeding from vicious cuts and bruises, and all through the air was the unmistakable stench of panic.
Every one was shouting at the same time, each clamoring for his attention or demanding to know what he was going to do about the present situation. He couldn't make himself heard; he couldn't even think.
"QUIET!"
The voice bellowed so loudly above everyone else that it immediately seized their attention. It was a heart-stopper of a voice, a sound like an avalanche rolling straight through the room; indeed, two Montosians fainted dead away in shock from it. All eyes turned to- wards the source of the voice (the heads following immediately thereafter), which turned out to be the walking landmass from the Federation who had come in the company of the Thallonian, Si Cwan, and the Vulcan, Soleta. He glanced about for a moment, his fearsome gaze freezing any possible reply in the throats of those who were going to be presumptuous enough to try and make one.
"That's better," he rumbled, in a tone more closely approximating his normal one. With the momentary cessation of babbling, however, the explosions in the distance could now be heard. It seemed to Fr'Col that they were getting closer.
"Now... what is happening?" Naturally the cacophony recommenced, but this time it took only a look from Kebron to silence them, and Fr'Col took the momentary silence as opportunity to speak up. "Some sort of creatures, from what I've managed to gather," he said. It was not easy for him to focus; his mind tended to wander. He knew that was an ongoing problem; until now, it had never been a major handicap for him, for nothing of overwhelming importance, no major emergency, had ever presented itself to him. Those sorts of things simply didn't happen on Montos, an intrinsically polite society that considered such bellicose matters to be... rude, somehow. "Heavily furred," he continued, "piloting lethal ships, firing at random places in the city. No pattern. No... no nothing. Some of their ships have landed, and they're running about, attacking, grabbing whatever they want-" "The Dogs," Kebron said immediately. "The Dogs of
War."
Si Cwan looked at Kebron in surprise, impressed that the Brikar had come up with the only reasonable answer so quickly. "Yes. I think you're right."
Soleta looked at him in confusion. "The who?"
"Genetic breeding experiment that went awry. They spent time in the outer rim of
Federation space for a while, then relocated their operations into the border area of Thallonian space," Si Cwan told her. "They were far enough out that they didn't present an immediate problem. We would have attended to them eventually, but we had more pressing matters than dealing with a group of barbaric space pirates. Unfortunately, the Empire collapsed before we were able to get around to it"
"Are they vicious?"
"Ferocious, Lieutenant," said Kebron, the formal-sounding use of her rank indicating the gravity with which he was treating the situation. "They made the mistake of attacking a Brikar colony some years back. We repulsed them... don't say it," he added as an obvious afterthought to Si Cwan.
"Wouldn't have occurred to me to say it, considering this is not an appropriate time for sardonic banter. Don't you agree?" asked Si Cwan. Kebron nodded, which for him meant that the entirety of his torso bobbed slightly as if he were bowing.
Fr'Col took a deep gulp in his throat, fingering the triangular stone that he used for a gavel. "Can you help us?" he asked. It was not an easy thing for him to inquire. The people of Montos were rather dedicated to keeping to themselves and disdaining outside help. Asking for the aid now of these Federation people was very, very difficult.
The Thallonian seemed to realize, even appreciate that. His face darkened. "We would if we could. If our Starship were here, we could likely dispose of them without too much difficulty. The Dogs tend to tuck tail and run when the odds even seem to move against them. But we have limited resources."
"If we had even some fighter ships, one-man vessels," Kebron mused out loud.
And Fr'Col thumped his stone vigorously on the podium. "We do!" This caused another round of mutual talking until Kebron once again shouted them down. "How did you get such ships?" asked Si Cwan. "I told you. We traded valuable minerals and got useless junk in return. That was the junk."
"Fighter ships were junk?" Clearly Kebron couldn't believe it, even though his face wasn't designed to display a multitude of expressions.
"They were until now. We never had any use for them."
"Are they near?"
'Take them to warehouse B!" called out Fr'Col. Immediately this straightforward command was taken up as a war chant, and cries of 'Take them to warehouse B!
Warehouse B!" echoed throughout the room. Si Cwan, Soleta, even Kebron (although to a lesser extent) were caught up in a wave of excitement and bodies as they were ushered out of the room towards the storage facility where the only hope for Montos sat gathering dust.
Fr'Col suddenly slammed his stone triangle down on his podium. "I object!" he shouted, and then realized he'd forgotten why he'd objected. Fortunately, no one was in the room to hear him.
Si Cwan was less than enthused.
The fighter ships, such as they were, were not what he would have remotely termed "state of the art," although at least they weren't broken down in any re- spect. There were half a dozen of them, covered with thick dust.
The crowd of Montosians who had been huddling in Fr'Col's office were now grouped together in a quivering collection of trembling bodies. There were more explosions outside, and each time they would jump slightly and huddle even more closely together.
"They're getting nearer," Kebron said, listening to the explosions. He didn't sound particularly perturbed about it. If it were a purely natural thunder-and-light-ning storm closing in on them, he wouldn't have sounded any more put out.
Si Cwan took one more glance at the ships. "I know these vessels. They're of
Boragi design, aren't they." He looked around and saw that Fr'Col had entered die warehouse just in time to hear the tail end of his question. Fr'Col nodded in affirmation.
Cwan was more than familiar with the residents of Boragi III. They were a race that specialized hi staying neutral under all conditions and circumstances.
However, they had a remarkable knack for stirring up trouble among other races, and then coming in to pick up the pieces when the dust of the conflict had settled. It was obvious to Cwan that the Boragi had been hoping the Montosians might put their new-found toys to some sort of warlike use, preferably among themselves, leaving the Boragi free to engage in more trade and dealings with whichever side of the battle wound up surviving. They had reckoned, however, without the Montosians resolutely placid attitude. No such battle had been forthcoming, and there was no telling how long the ships had been sitting there unattended.
There was no way to find
out except to check it for himself. Si Cwan clambered up the side of one of the fighters and eased himself into the cockpit. "Kebron, this is going to be a tight fit for you," he warned.
"I'll take a deep breath," said Kebron, looking around for a fighter that was to his liking.
"Soleta, have you any experience with flying vessels of this sort?"
"No," she said coolly.
"Have you ever been in a solo firefight of any sort?"
"No."
That was not what Si Cwan was hoping to hear. They were going in outnumbered as it was. His main hope was that the Dogs would tuck and run, as they tended to do simply to protect their numbers whenever a battle seemed more trouble than it was worth. "Perhaps it would be better if you remained here, then."
"That would be the logical course of action," Soleta agreed. Whereupon she selected a fighter and vaulted into the cockpit. It was all Si Cwan could do to suppress a smile. She was quite something else, Soleta was.
Then he turned his attention back to the weapons and control array. Time was not their friend, and the sooner they got out there, the better their admittedly slim chances would become. But that consideration had to be balanced against the preparations needed to fly the ship into battle without getting himself killed just from inexperience. There were two elements, and only two, on their side.
The first was that the Boragi, as irritating and conniving as they could be, were quite skilled in the art of ship design and tended to produce solid-if not particularly inspired-weaponry. And the second was that they had tried to make it as simple as possible to operate so that the Montosians would be more tempted to use it.
He studied the weapons quickly, trying not to be dis-tracted by the approaching series of explosions. They seemed to be fewer in number; obviously, as the bombing raid softened up the populace, more and more of the Dogs were descending to ground and taking on the people hand-to-hand. That sort of battle was generally more to their liking.
He heard a grunt and saw Kebron shoving himself into the cockpit of another vessel nearby. To say it was a tight fit was to understate the matter. But
Kebron did not have a lot of choice. Several Montosians had climbed onto the vessel with him and were helping to push him down into place. "Thank you," he rumbled. He didn't bother to belt himself in; his own width was easily going to be able to keep him secure. Si Cwan had the feeling that the only way they were going to get Kebron out of the vehicle was to disassemble it.
"Fr'Col," Si Cwan said sternly, "I want you to understand something, and I want your oath in front of all these people: That when we return from this, after having saved your lives, you and your people will willingly join in the new alliance that we are endeavoring to form. That you will have seen the advantages of an agreement of mutual protection, for from that will grow mutual strength.
Your oath, sir."
Fr'Col nodded. "Anything you say. I have no objections."
"Good." He looked over at Soleta, who was studying the controls in front of her with quiet, resolute determination. "Lieutenant, are you sure about this?" he called. "Are you certain you can handle it?"
"No," she said with her customary bluntness. "But I am a fast learner."
"Good. All right... lower the cowling," he said. The weapons array was a somewhat quaint series of switches rather than the touch-sensitive panels he was accustomed to, but he was certain he could adapt.
He flipped the switch that he surmised would bring the cowling down and seal off the cockpit.
His vessel shuddered ever so slightly, and before he knew it, blaster fire discharged from the front of the ship and smashed into the far wall of the warehouse. Montosians went running as debris rained down, dust and smoke rising from the impact. When it cleared, there was a large hole in the wall.
"You might want to consider the blue switch to the left of that one," Kebron suggested without a trace of irony.
"I believe I have a solid grasp of the learning procedure, Ambassador," Soleta said, contrastingly making no effort whatsoever to keep irony out of her voice.
"I shall watch what you do, and then do the opposite."
Si Cwan let the remark pass without comment as he flipped the suggested switch and the cowling settled in around him. He had not even bothered to ask if any of the Montosians there were going to join them in their battle to save their own damned planet-considering that there were ships to spare. The odds were that they would be far more of a hindrance than a help anyway.
He found the controls that he hoped would actually cause the ship's engines to come on line, and result in the vessel lifting off. He breathed a silent prayer, partly hoping that he wouldn't further embarrass himself- and partly hoping that he didn't inadvertently incinerate everyone else in the warehouse. He activated them and, to his relief, the engines came on line. The thrusters snapped to life and the ship hovered several feet off the ground. He looked right and left and saw that Kebron's and Soleta's ships were following suit. He couldn't help but notice that Soleta did not look the slightest bit out of her element. If he hadn't known that she'd never operated such a vessel before, he would have thought she had been flying for years.
Fr'Col had scuttled over to one end of the warehouse and flipped open a panel on the wall and hit a switch. There was a grinding of gears and one end of the warehouse slid open, providing them a means of exiting. There were shouts of
"Good luck!" and similar best wishes, and the three vessels blasted towards the exit and out.
The moment they were out of the warehouse, Si Cwan opened up the vessel's engines to see what the ship was capable of doing. He had only seconds to fully master the ship's specs, he knew, before he was going to find himself in a combat situation. He rocked the ship back and forth slightly, getting a feel for how last and maneuverable it was.
"Kebron to Cwan," Kebron's voice came over the combadge that Si Cwan wore. His sporting of one had been a matter of some small debate, considering that he was not a member of Starfleet, and so it wasn't exactly in keeping with regs for him to wear one. But Captain Calhoun had insisted, stating, "I want to know where my people are at any given time, and I'll be damned if I let regulations stand in the way of common sense." That had been that, and Cwan was rather glad at this particular point that Calhoun had been so insistent
"Cwan here. Go ahead."
"Are you all right? I saw your ship moving in an erratic pattern."
"Just getting a feel for her."
The ground hurtled past beneath them. Then- ships skimmed the tops of the buildings as they flew towards the area of the Dogs' attack. It was not difficult to spot; several miles to the east, smoke was rising from half a dozen areas and buildings that were in a state of ruin.
Then there was a sudden, warning beep from the console. He immediately checked the systems to make sure that there wasn't something wrong with the functioning of the ship itself. Instead, his perimeter alarms were informing him of something that, seconds later, Kebron did as well.
"Incoming," was all Kebron said.
It was all he had to say. Dog fighters were approaching from the other direction, and Zak Kebron, Soleta, and Si Cwan had been noticed.
There were six of them, coming in fast. Si Cwan wasn't thrilled; he was operating an unfamiliar vessel, backed up by two individuals, one of whom had never flown before, and they were outnumbered two to one. It wasn't the sort of odds he would have preferred.
"They're going to split. Three and three formation," Kebron's voice came over the combadge. And sure enough, he was absolutely right. The approaching Dog ships moved off left and right, coming in fast and endeavoring to outflank their attackers.
"I'll take the three on the right. You and Soleta, the three on the left," said
Cwan.
'1 can handle the three on the left. You and Soleta deal with the three on the right."
"I can take them. Soleta, stick with Kebron."
The Dog fighters were almost within firing range.
"That will not be necessary," Kebron said firmly. "Soleta, perhaps you should hang back as our-"
Soleta's voice crackled over the comm links. "Mr. Ambassador. Lieutenant. The two of you are beginning to annoy me."
Si Cwan gasped as Soleta's ship suddenly slammed forward, outstripping the both of them. Her blasters roared to life, firing at the approaching ships and missing them clean.
Instead, the blasts ricocheted off one of the partly demolished structures, spun off in trajectories that paralleled each other, caromed off two more piles of debris, crisscrossed one another and took out attacking vessels on either side.
The two ships spiraled to the ground, chewing up huge troughs of dirt and debris as they skidded and then went up in huge balls of flame.
Si Cwan blinked in surprise, not quite certain that he had just seen what he thought he'd seen. Just like that, two of the six attacking ships had been taken out.
Star Trek - NF - 07 - The Quiet Place Page 11
