A Call to Darkness - Michael Jan Friedman [102]
And a durable one at that.
In disgust, he thrust his burden from him. The pale one landed almost effortlessly on his feet.
“Gods!” roared Worf. His cry echoed unmercifully. “What must one do to find revenge in this place?”
Chapter Nineteen
AFTER THEIR INITIAL, attention-getting salvo, Dan’nor and his comrades had not had an easy time of it. Early on, Ka’asot had absorbed a beam, and he hadn’t moved since.
Immediately afterward, an attempt had been made to storm their position on the catwalk. He and Rin’noc had been hard-pressed, and more than once a blast had splattered on the stones just behind Dan’nor. But in the end, they had turned their enemies back.
Now, it seemed, the marshals had decided that the price of dragging them down was too steep. They were playing a waiting game-until help could arrive from the field in the form of some flying sleds.
Of course, the plan had been to be out of here long before that time. To be up the mountain again and gone before the sky riders could arrive. Nor were the earthbound marshals likely to pursue-for once the rebels were above them on the slope, they would enjoy too great an advantage.
But Ma’alor was taking longer than expected. What was keeping him? Had the prisoners proved harder to find than they’d anticipated? Or had the marshals found them first and taken them out of the game?
Just when Dan’nor concluded that their gambit was a failure, he saw a figure emerge from the opening by which his comrades had entered the keep. No one in the courtyard seemed to notice as Nurel’lid headed for the wall, followed by Ma’alor and someone in rough-spun garb-someone who had to be Ralak’kai.
But that was it. No one else trailed after them.
Dan’nor swallowed. Worf. Pulaski. And the others who were supposed to have been imprisoned with Ralak’kai…
All gone? All of them-just like Ka’asot?
It was a lot to pay for one man’s freedom. An awful lot. But if they could show the Council that they would not tolerate such things… then perhaps they had purchased more than they would leave Dov’rellir with.
To keep the others safe and unseen, Dan’nor opened fire again. A fraction of a second later, Rin’noc followed suit. In the courtyard, marshals scattered, some taking cover behind the gallows.
Dan’nor took some satisfaction in knowing that that ugly thing would never be used. That the aerial monitors would never have a chance to transmit their spectacle.
The marshals returned their fire. But they never saw Ma’alor, Nurel’lid or Ralak’kai climbing the wall-not until it was too late.
Nor did they offer more than token pursuit as the rebels escaped up the mountainside.
When the time came, it was even tougher to give the order than Riker had expected. But then, he wasn’t just leaving an away team to face danger and the likelihood of death. He was leaving five of the people he loved best in all the universe.
Nor did he feel inclined to distinguish between real people and artificial ones. He felt as bad about Data as he did about the others. In a way, perhaps, worse-because the android had volunteered for this, had gone in with the hope that he could save his crew mates.
And now, the first officer was forced to choke off that hope. Maybe forever.
Doctor Burtin had chosen to be on the bridge as Data’s deadline became imminent. Obviously, he had exercised his prerogative to keep Riker honest-though that was hardly necessary.
Duty came first. It was a viewpoint to which Picard would certainly have subscribed.
“All right,” said Riker. “We’ve waited long enough.” He turned to Sharif at the conn station. “Log in coordinates for Starbase Ninety-one.”
Sharif did as he was told. “Logged, sir.”
“Warp nine, Mister Sharif. En-“
“Commander?”
Riker shot to his feet. He knew that voice!
“Data!”
“That is correct, sir. I have five to beam up.”
“Transporter room,” cried the first officer, barely able to contain his exuberance. “Mister O’Brien…”
“Aye, sir. I’m locking in on them now. Got them.”
“Energize,” commanded Riker.
There was a long pause-or maybe it just seemed long. The