Star Trek - Survivors Part 20

Data could not ask Tasha to climb down the cliffside the way he had come up, so they had a long journey to the hidden flyer. It was almost two hours later that they finally soared across the chasm, toward a battle that showed no signs of slacking.

Tasha Yar let Data do the piloting, trusting his android senses to keep them from hitting trees, hills, or other flyers as they swung beneath one of the military craft so she could get off a shot at its vulnerable thrusters.

She took out the left one, and the flyer spun wildly.

"Got 'em!" she exclaimed as Data took them up and away from the crash.

They whipped over the top of a slow troop carrier, and pulled up beside a sleek fighter, Data somehow holding the clumsy civilian craft in tandem while Yar took out both the startled pilot and gunner.

As they sailed away, g-force pressing her into her seat, Yar laughed with glee. "Data-you were born for this! The only man I ever want piloting me in a dogfight."

"Inquiry: 'dogfight'?"

"One-on-one air battle-I never thought I'd see it outside simulator training! Look! There's Rikan-get around to starboard-take out the flyers homing in on him!"

"Tasha-are you all right?" Data asked.

"Of course I'm all right. We're doing great! Let's get that big one over there-I don't like those torpedo ports."

"Aim at the thrusters or rudders, please," said the android. "There is no need to take lives if-"

"Dammit, Data, they were shooting at us!" Yar told him, annoyed at his lack of enthusiasm. It was too long since she had been in action, and the fact that Nalavia's forces had attacked first made theirs a defensive action. So Starfleet taught that it was a defeat to have to fight at all-well, they had tried to let the Trevans decide for themselves. It wasn't her fault that Nalavia had launched her attack before the drug worked its way out of her people's systems.

The large flyer was aiming a rocket bomb at Rikan's craft-if it hit, it would be the end of the warlord.

Two of Dare's sleek fighters were moving to intercept-Yar could not see if one of them held the Silver Paladin himself.

She and Data swung around to starboard, and a yell of triumph rose in Yar's throat as under Data's inhuman skill they maneuvered as neatly as any craft built for fighting.

The flyer had no inertial control; Yar was thrown against her harness as they rose and whirled, increasing her exhilaration. It was a long time since she had felt such an adrenalin high. She blasted at the craft attempting to reach Rikan's flagship.

Rikan was firing too, as were Dare's flyers, darting about and keeping the gunners too busy to dog Rikan's movements. The warlord's pilot was good, Yar noted peripherally, changing course often to avoid presenting a target.

The radio was open, but it was such a jumble that Yar paid it little attention until slowly a wave of excited exclamations began piercing the tight-voiced orders. "They're retreating!"

Who was retreating?

The thought was lost in a blast of rocket fire that came close to taking out their windscreen.

Data banked sharply in a groan of protesting metal, and they ducked a rocket sizzling from a different craft.

The radio squawked, "Ground troops pulling out!"

"We've got 'em running!"

But Yar's attention was on the second heavily-armed flyer trying to beat the small fighter craft off its sister ship so the two could go after Rikan.

"Rikan-pull back!" Dare's voice.

Data whipped around and straight back into the confrontation, but- "We are losing rudder control," he said.

At the same moment one of the heavy flyers got a rocket off toward Rikan-homing right on target!

Yar and Data were close enough to see the thrusters blast as the pilot tried to maneuver out of its path, but the flagship did not have the speed of one of the little craft.

The rocket caught the flagship portside, ripping a hole in the fuselage and setting it spinning in a downward spiral.

"Rikan's. .h.i.t!" came Poet's voice on the radio.

Instantly, aircraft converged and a free-for-all erupted, Nalavia's flyers seeking to deal the death blow, Rikan's trying to protect the falling craft.

"Tasha," Data said, his voice loud enough to carry over the noise of battle but unaffected by tension, "I have overstressed this craft-two minutes to systems failure."

"Follow Rikan down!" she instructed, then punched the radio. "This is Yar. Data and I will follow Rikan and protect him on the ground. Our craft is damaged."

"Tasha?!" Dare's voice.

"Yes. We're not hurt."

Data fought the controls as their flyer bucked and yawed, but somehow he kept in sight of the spinning flagship, which finally hit ground, wobbled up onto its side, and crunched through a stand of trees to come to a shuddering halt. He aimed for the path it had cleared, and with sheer android strength held them on course as he set down, hard but safe.

They untangled themselves from their harness, grabbed their weapons, and ran for the flagship.

A military flyer sailed down on a strafing run.

Yar and Data dropped and fired-one of their shots must have hit the power generator, for the flyer exploded, showering them with fiery debris.

Data threw himself over Yar.

A flaming piece struck the android's back, pushing his full weight down onto Yar. The way he moved, she forgot how heavy he was until times like now, when she thought her ribs would break-and might have, except that he scrambled up at once, throwing the debris aside.

His uniform was on fire!

"Roll!" Yar told him before he had realized it himself.

He didn't question her-must have felt the continuing heat by then-and in seconds the fire was out.

Yar touched him. The material was scorched but, "It did not harm my skin," he said.

"You won't object if I check for myself later?"

"No. But now we must get to Rikan."

Above them, the air battle continued. Yar let Data help her over the broken trees. Data, Worf, Vulcans she worked with-their physical strength was so much greater than hers that objections to such aid were absurd. Her human male colleagues had learned, though, not to offer unless she asked.

By the time they reached the downed flagship, two of its occupants had crawled out-neither one the warlord.

"Where's Rikan?" Yar asked.

"Inside," said one of the men. "He is injured, but not mortally. Trell can care for him."

"I'll go in," she said.

The craft had landed on its side, one door inaccessible, the other now on top. Yar climbed up slippery aerodynamic planes not meant to be walked on, and slid into the tip-tilted cabin.

The lighting worked, but the control console was buckled inward and dead.

Rikan lay on what had been the side of the ship but was now floor, Trell bending over him.

"Rikan?" Yar asked. "How badly are you hurt?"

His helmet had been removed, and his companion was easing the armor away from his left leg.

Although he was pale, the warlord essayed a smile. "Natasha. It is nothing, a broken leg. In a long life, how many broken bones does a warrior suffer? It will heal."

Trell cut away Rikan's trouser leg. Yar saw no blood. It would be difficult to get him out of here, though.

Shots erupted outside. The shadow of another attacker sailed over them.

Yar turned, hitting her combadge. "Data?"

"A small flyer. I do not think it will come back against four guns-but there will be others."

"We must get Rikan away from the ship," she said. "It's too easy a target."

"I will help you."

It took little effort for Data to get into the flyer, but he saw the problem immediately. "I can carry you out, sir," he said to Rikan, "but not without risk of compounding that fracture. The break appears clean. I am programmed with all standard first aid techniques, and I have the strength to set it, but the pain-"

"I can stand the pain. Do it, Data, and then you can splint it by strapping the armor tight."

Trell and Tasha held the old man's shoulders. There was no way to ease his pain, but at least Data could make it quick. Rikan groaned and broke into cold sweat, but then lay panting. The unnatural bulge was gone, the leg in normal alignment. "Good job, Data," Tasha said.

Trell and Data then put the armor back around the injured leg, strapping it with webbing from the seat restraints.

Rikan was so much taller than Data that the android could not carry the old man without his injured leg dangling painfully. Trell and Tasha helped to support it as they struggled to lift the warlord toward the door overhead.

Tasha's combadge chirped, and she tapped it. "What's going on down there?" came Adin's voice.

"Rikan is injured. We're trying to get him out," she replied.

"I'll have one of the larger flyers come down. We'll escort it in."

Leaving communication open, they heard angry exclamations as more of Nalavia's flyers converged on Rikan's downed flagship, coming in for the kill. But Rikan's people were also there to protect their fallen leader. Battle raged above them.

Data said, "I will have to climb out, and then lift Rikan. Can you hold him?"

Trell nodded, and he and Tasha supported the warlord while Data got above them, balanced carefully on the slippery deck, then reached down and took the warlord under the arms to lift him out and lay him gently on the hull. Then he turned to give Trell a hand while Tasha scrambled out on her own.

Another flyer swooped toward them-Data slid Rikan under the slight protection of the open door while Tasha jumped down, picked up the discarded guns, and tossed one to Data. She blasted at the flyer-but its return fire chopped the ground in a straight line toward her!

One of Adin's small craft was right behind, peppering the determined attacker. Trailing smoke, still it kept to its course, blasting away at the small group on the flagship.

Tasha leaped up onto the flagship, and Data grasped her hand to haul her into what shelter there was, while he put more shots into the oncoming kamikaze. There was no stopping it-even if all systems were out, inertia would carry it straight over the flagship.

"Tasha! Take cover!" came Adin's voice over both their combadges-but it was not in Tasha to abandon the injured man she was protecting. She and Data remained between Rikan and the oncoming craft, Trell pulling a sidearm and joining them.

The door sheltered them for a few seconds, shots thudding into it without penetrating. Then the flyer was beyond it. The tail gunner saw them, fired- Trell slumped, knocking Tasha into Data.

Tasha gave a yelp as her feet were knocked out from under her on the slippery hull. Data caught her before she fell over the edge.

The flyer continued on its helpless course and crashed into the trees with a terrific explosion.

"Tasha? Tasha-I'm coming to help!" came Adin's voice.

His flyer made a difficult landing on a section of the plowed-down trees, even as Tasha was saying, "I'm all right. It's Trell."

There were no flyers coming at them just then, so Data turned ... and saw that Trell had fallen across Rikan's chest. The old man felt for a pulse at Trell's throat, but the gouts of blood where projectiles had emerged from the servant's back told clearly that there could be none. Gently, Data lifted the body away.

Rikan looked up at him, not a man to cry, but his voice was hoa.r.s.e as he said, "Trell was my man for twenty years, and his father before him. Good men, loyal and true. And now I have outlived them both."

By this time Adin and Poet were climbing up onto the flagship. For once, Poet had no handy quotation; perhaps he recognized that all cliches about death were meaningless in the face of the thing itself.

"Dare!" Sdan's voice on their combadges.

"We're all right. Get a flyer down here that's capable of carrying an injured man."

"One of Rikan's is trying to set down-bad terrain there."

"Just do it!"

The larger flyer came in sight, escorted by the neat little fighter craft. It circled first, but finally managed to put down not far from where Data and Tasha had landed. Data, Adin, and Poet eased Rikan down from the flagship and began the tortuous journey over the broken trees, trying not to jolt the old man.

Tasha and Rikan's two remaining men escorted them, guns at the ready, but- "What's going on?" Tasha asked suspiciously. "Why aren't more flyers coming after us?"

Adin hit his combadge. "Gerva, Tuuk, report! What's happening?"

Even as he spoke, several military craft sailed high above them, moving at top speed toward the capital city.

"Nalavia's called them in!" came Gerva's voice. "First the ground troops, now the flyers."

"Dare!" said Tasha excitedly. "That means she's got troubles at home. Our plan worked-the hypnotic drug's worn off, and her own people are rebelling!"

Adin grinned. "That must be it. Rikan-we're going to win!"

The warlord grinned in return. "I think you're right, Adrian. Please get me home so-"

"Commander Data! Lieutenant Yar!"