Star Trek - War Drums Part 20

Everyone, including Maltz, nodded in agreement. Data used his hands to snap the tough polymer cords that bound each youngster's hands and feet. When Maltz was freed he ran to one of the fallen colonists and gripped the woman by her throat.

"Stop that," ordered Data. "Do not sink to their level."

There was a tense moment as the youths looked from Data to their nominal leader, wondering whose philosophy would triumph. Finally Maltz dropped the stunned colonist back to the floor and picked up her phaser weapon. "We follow you," he muttered.

A hundred meters away Gregg Calvert rounded a corner and saw two guards crouching inside the entryway of a typical residence. He immediately ducked out of sight. The guards had evidently heard the shouting and weren't sure if it was good news or bad news, but their crouching position made them difficult targets.

Gregg leapt into their view, waving and yelling, "Hey! Oscaras needs help!"

No sooner had the men risen to their feet and taken a few steps into the open than Gregg leveled his rifle and fired. They crumpled where they stood. Gregg ran to the door, found it was locked, and rifled through the bodies to find the key. When he opened the door he found Worf and Troi lying back to back on the floor, trying valiantly to untie each other's hands.

"We demand to be released!" yelled Worf.

"No problem," said Gregg. "That's what I'm here for. Data is releasing the Klingons, and Ro is guarding the gate."

Deanna blinked. "You're here to rescue us?"

Gregg bent down and started to untie her ankles. "That is, unless you'd rather stay here."

"No!" growled Worf, struggling impatiently against his bindings. "Use the phaser to cut the ropes. Try setting four, narrow beam."

The ex-security officer did as he was told and soon had them released. Worf and Deanna rose stiffly to their feet. "Here," said Gregg, handing each of them a comm badge, "you'll need these."

Worf affixed the insignia to his chest and tapped it. "Worf to Data!" he called.

"Data here," came the response. "I a.s.sume you have been rescued. Follow Mister Calvert to the tunnel and obey his instructions. He planned this escape."

Worf looked with some amazement at the tall blond man. "Thank you," he murmured.

"Time for that later," said Gregg, moving to the doorway. "There are two stunned colonists outside in the street. Get their phaser rifles."

Worf grinned. "With pleasure."

Chapter Seventeen.

IN THE TOWER by the main gate Ensign Ro remained in a watchful crouch, but she didn't see the phaser beam until it ripped the roof off the tiny structure, showering her with sparks and drops of molten steel. She sprawled on her back as more blasts converged on the tower, and she realized the shots were coming from the forest. Oscaras and his force were back, and they weren't shooting to stun. Somebody inside the compound must have alerted them about what was happening.

Ro barely had time to crawl to the rope ladder and drop to the ground before another salvo of phasers sent the entire structure toppling over. It crashed only a meter away from her, spewing dirt and singed metal into the air. Ro screamed as a piece of flying metal cut deeply into her shoulder. She heard more crackling noises and whirled around to see the gate itself evaporating in smoke and sparks. A glowing hole was getting bigger and bigger.

She knew that in a matter of seconds fifty armed colonists would be pouring through that hole.

Gripping her bleeding shoulder, Ro dashed toward Louise Drayton's apartment. She was extremely relieved to see Data and the band of bedraggled Klingons waiting outside the door.

"You've got to get out of here!" she shouted. "They're blasting through the gate!"

"I will conduct the Klingons to safety," said Data. "Please remain here and tell the others we are safe."

"You're not safe yet," she replied. "You'd better get going!"

As Data ushered the Klingons into Drayton's cramped quarters Ro lifted the rifle to her blood-covered shoulder and waited. Two armed colonists rushed around the corner of a building, and Ro cut them down. Tensely she awaited the onslaught of Oscaras's entire force, and she nearly shot Gregg Calvert when he came charging between two buildings across the street. Fortunately, she saw a large Klingon and a slim Betazoid following him, and she held her fire.

"Get going!" she called to them. "Oscaras is breaking through the gate!"

"Aren't you coming?" asked Worf.

Ro shook her head. "No. I'm wounded, and somebody's got to stay and try to contact the Enterprise."

The Klingon muttered, "Then we will all stay."

"No, Worf," said Deanna Troi. "I'll stay with her, but it's far too dangerous for you. Go protect the children."

Gregg protested, "This is crazy. Both of you come with us right now!"

"Go, Gregg," Ro told him, managing a smile. "We'll put down our weapons-they won't hurt us. Go on, you'll be safe with Worf and Data."

An explosion sounded somewhere within the compound, followed by a number of shouts. Reluctantly Worf and Gregg left the women and disappeared into Drayton's quarters. When the door was shut behind them and the tunnel safely hidden once again, Ro tossed her phaser rifle to the ground. Deanna did likewise.

"Lie down," ordered Deanna, "I want to stop that bleeding."

The Bajoran did as she was told, thinking a wounded person lying on the ground wouldn't look very threatening. With both hands Deanna applied pressure to the wound. She heard more shouting and footsteps, but Ro blacked out before Oscaras and his people reached them.

"Where did they go?" bellowed Raul Oscaras.

Deanna Troi shrugged. "I told you-back to the forest."

"But how did they get in? How did they escape?"

Deanna shook her head wearily. "I don't know." That was practically the truth, because she hadn't seen the secret escape route.

Oscaras towered over her. "Could you lead us to their hideout?"

"Maybe I could lead you to one of their hutches," she said, "but there's no guarantee they would be there. I wouldn't do it anyway."

Oscaras snarled and raised a beefy hand over his head as if to slap her, but Deanna glared defiantly at him. "I wouldn't," she warned. "We came here for only one purpose-to save lives. And if you don't like that, call the Enterprise back, and we'll leave."

"You ruined it!" he wailed. "We finally had a solution for the Klingon problem!"

"So did we," muttered Deanna. "Face it: You failed to kill them, and they failed to kill you. So the only alternative is to learn to live with one another."

Raul Oscaras growled like the Klingons he hated, slammed his fist into his palm, and began to pace. He knew he was defeated, thought the Betazoid. As they had led her to his office she had heard several of the colonists beginning to question his recent decisions, especially the one that alienated the away team from the Enterprise. When he had marched off into the forest and allowed the Klingons to be rescued by three people, the deficiencies of his leadership had become even more apparent.

"Can I go see how Ensign Ro is?" she asked.

The president fumed, "Do you think I should just let you walk out of here?"

"Put me on trial if you like," Deanna scoffed. "Let me see, what is my crime?" Bringing the Klingons to turn themselves in? That was stupid, I admit, and I won't do it again."

President Oscaras motioned angrily toward the door. "Get out. Sickbay is to the right, at the end of the hall."

He followed her out the door and made sure she didn't linger too long outside the radio room. There were two guards armed with phaser rifles standing in the doorway of the radio room, and Deanna decided not to press that issue for the moment. The immediate danger was over, the Klingons were safe, and President Oscaras was losing his stranglehold on New Reykjavik. She proceeded to sickbay at the end of the hall.

Ensign Ro was lying on an examination table, and a young male doctor was ministering to her injury. Her shoulder was wrapped in bandages, and the doctor was fixing a sling under her arm. Despite her recent heroics, Ensign Ro didn't look particularly relieved to be out of action.

"I've got to check the seismograph," Ro insisted.

Deanna smiled rea.s.suringly, but it was the doctor to whom she spoke: "How is she?"

"We stopped the bleeding," said Doctor Freleng, "but I want her to take it easy. By the way, I want you to know how sick I am about all of this. I'm tired of patching people up-I want to deliver babies again."

"I can imagine," said the Betazoid sympathetically. "Can she move around?"

"She can walk, but that's all," warned the doctor. He looked pointedly at Ro. "Nothing strenuous."

"I'll take responsibility for her," said Deanna, helping the ensign to her feet.

Ro leaned against the table for a moment, summoning what strength she had left. "Thanks again," she told the doctor.

"Doctor, do you have any influence with those men guarding the radio room?" Deanna asked.

"I'm afraid not," said Freleng. "Oscaras handpicked them. But I'm on my way to see our president now, and I have a lot of questions for him. I don't think I'm the only one."

Ro gripped Deanna's arm. "Let's get to the seismograph," she insisted. "I've got to see if there have been any changes."

Captain Picard fidgeted in his seat and felt like loosening the stiff collar of his dress uniform, but he maintained his polite smile and kept his hands folded properly in his lap. For days, it seemed, he had been listening to speeches. Apparently scores of important personages had to speak at great length on this grand occasion of the peaceful division of the Aretian solar system.

Picard had requested a chance to speak but wasn't scheduled to do so until the next day. He merely wanted to tell the parties what was already taking place-namely that Commander Riker, Lieutenant Commander La Forge, and six shuttlecraft were already busy charting their mutual solar system. He intended to inform the Aretians and Pargites of the success of the ongoing mission, then excuse the Enterprise to return to Selva.

"And so," a rotund politician concluded for the tenth time, "it was our steadfast determination to seek equitable solutions to the disagreements that have plagued our solar system for fifty years that resulted in this historical agreement. Over twenty years ago we proposed the establishment of enterprise zones in the undeveloped areas, in order to better facilitate our plans for a solar system - wide monetary unit. Our unwavering belief in free trade has accounted for the tremendous leap in the standard of living of our people, and we wish to impart this benefit to all citizens of the solar system. Only through a determined application of the Fairness Doctrine can we hope to allay the distrust that ..."

The captain tuned out. He was beginning to realize why this agreement had taken months to conclude, and he had the deepest sympathy for the female Vulcan mediator who sat beside him. But worry kept intruding on his mind-worry about the lack of contact with the away team on Selva. He knew it was a delicate mission, and he didn't want to appear to be pressuring them by demanding reports. Picard imagined the team was still winning converts one by one, working toward a peaceful resolution. He certainly hoped they weren't making speeches like this deadly dull one from the minister of commerce.

"Excuse me," he whispered to the Vulcan mediator. "I have to contact my ship,"

The Vulcan requested, "Please do not be gone long. Your presence is very rea.s.suring."

Everyone in the vast auditorium looked as though they were about to fall asleep, thought Picard, and his presence hadn't accomplished anything so far. But he said nothing and simply rose from his chair and walked to the back of the room.

He tapped his communicator badge. "Picard to Enterprise."

"Enterprise," responded an efficient female voice. "Lieutenant Wallins reporting."

"Lieutenant, any word from the away team on Selva?"

"No, sir, I'm afraid not. Commander La Forge just reported in, and he says the survey should be done in approximately sixty hours. The computer is processing the information concurrently, and we should have our first recommendations shortly."

The captain pursed his lips. "Thank you," he said. "Picard out."

For the first time he was beginning to get angry and impatient. This was drudge work-a first-year cadet could command this mission. Normally he was quite proud of the renown of the Enterprise, but it was working against him in this instance. He heard the voice droning behind him, and he knew there was nothing he could do but wait.

Doctor Drayton stared wild-eyed at the ragtag collection of Klingons that confronted her, and she struggled to mouth something through her gag. Her frightened eyes turned beseechingly to the tall blond man and the tall dark android beside him. Data found her plight unfortunate but acceptable, considering the language she had been using when they had found her and Myra in the tunnel. Doctor Drayton knew how to swear expertly in at least three languages.

They were ensconced in a nearby hutch-one that was stocked with stolen goods-and their perimeter was well guarded by Worf and ten of the castaways, who communicated by drum. Data would have preferred to take some action, but the irrational behavior of the colonists offered them no course of action except to await the Enterprise's return. Counselor Troi and Ensign Ro were a persuasive pair, and they would gain access to the colonists' subs.p.a.ce radio if it was possible to do so. Meanwhile, it was advisable to keep the Klingons and colonists separated.

Data wasn't programmed for surprise, but he never ceased to be intrigued by the diverse behavior practiced by humans. He wished to debate the failings of capital punishment with the colonists, because he knew most of the history and pertinent statistics; but that debate would have to wait for another day.

For the moment, they had to be prepared to move quickly, and having a prisoner was a detriment. Carrying the entomologist to this hutch, with her kicking and attempting to scream, had been a ch.o.r.e in itself. Data didn't think that President Oscaras would be able to mount another maneuver outside the compound for some time, but they had to be prepared to move quickly. Mobility, concluded Data, had been the Klingons' strongest advantage during this entire conflict.

"I believe we must return Doctor Drayton to New Reykjavik," the android told Gregg Calvert.

"What?" barked the ex-security chief. "She's a spy-a Romulan."

"Knowing she is a spy," said Data, "effectively removes the threat she poses. We cannot keep her bound and gagged indefinitely, and she is an impediment to quick movement."

"Besides," said Myra Calvert, taking her daddy's hand and looking up at him, "it sets a bad example."

"All right," muttered Gregg. "But Data, tell Oscaras what he's getting. Tell them about the tunnel. too. We're done with it."

"I agree," said Data. He reached into his pocket and opened up the hand-held communicator. "Commander Data to New Reykjavik."

A nervous female voice answered, "Yes?"

"Please inform Raul Oscaras and the other colonists that we are returning Doctor Louise Drayton. She is a Romulan spy, and the proof is the tunnel she dug in the lavatory of her quarters."

Data felt a disturbance in the region of his ankle, and he looked down to see Doctor Drayton kicking him with her bound legs.

"Check her quarters!" shouted Gregg Calvert into the communicator. "And keep her locked up."

"That is all," said Data. He looked down at the floor and requested, "Doctor, will you please stop kicking me?"

She shook her head furiously, as if she wanted to talk.

Data remarked, "I will remove your gag if you promise not to shout and curse."

She nodded furiously, and Data untied the gag. Drayton sputtered as the cloth fell out, "I-I can get you off this planet!"

Gregg sneered. "By calling a Romulan vessel?"

Drayton nodded. "Yes. But you've got to call that girl back and tell her you're wrong! I need access to the subs.p.a.ce radio room."

"A common need," answered Data. "It is my belief that having a Romulan ship in orbit would be a needless complication under the circ.u.mstances." He pressed his comm badge. "Data to Worf."

"Worf here," barked a deep voice. "The forest is quiet, and it should be dark soon."