Ghost of a Chance - Mark Garland [68]
A second series of shock waves arrived, more brutal than any Tuvok had ever experienced, but this time he did not take flight.
He felt the entire shuttle move once more, bouncing its way perhaps a meter or two to the west. Then it held, shaking with the rest of the world but tipping up sharply at the bow, as if pointing toward the heavens from which it had descended. A moment later the shaking suddenly stopped, leaving an all-encompassing silence inside the small compartment.
Tuvok slowly extracted himself from his twisted position on the floor and tried to stand up. One knee cracked and made him wince. His head swam for a moment, and he felt a sizable shoulder bruise announce itself as he tried to lift his arms.
All in all, however, as he attempted to work the worst of the kinks out, he considered himself fortunate. He turned toward the main console and tried to bring up the power. Everything was out again.
Back to basics, he thought. It took several minutes to find the ruptured feed, and several more to patch it back together. Next he made use of the probe the Televek had supplied, a crude but effective instrument. Within minutes he had restored power to half of the systems on the shuttle. But as he moved on to his first priority, the communications system, he realized there was no hope of repairing it.
That entire section of the console was split in two, from the instrument panel to the deck, and many of its components had been ruined.
Tuvok let a long, grim, illogical sigh seep out before he took a fresh breath and turned to his second challenge: the transporter system. The damage to this portion of the main control panel was minimal, but he couldn't get the controls to respond, leading him to suspect trouble with the transporter itself. He started toward the stern of the shuttle, clinging to anything he could find in order to keep from tumbling straight into the rear hatch.
Beginning just moments from now there would be a series of aftershocks, if not another full quake. He expected things would only get worse.
And the Televek might return at any moment.
Time was short.
Tuvok saw no logic in pessimistic speculation, but he could not help acknowledging the grim status of the mission, and his aspect of it in particular.
Then he set aside his doubts, quickly and efficiently. "I will work faster," he said out loud, as if Drenar Four itself could hear. He censored himself, then executed a controlled tumble into the aft compartment. He went to work precisely where he landed.
***
Phaser fire lit up the darkened woods and sent clouds of burning bark and hissing splinters into the air as errant shots struck the trunks of trees. Janeway and Kim stopped running momentarily to return fire, and to watch the pursuing Televek dive for cover.
They stayed pinned down for only a moment.
Slowly, first one, then another of the aliens began to turn out in a flanking maneuver, crawling for the most part, heads down.
The undergrowth was just thick enough so that Janeway couldn't get a clear shot. Finally she signaled Kim to fall back again, the only thing they could do to avoid getting caught in Televek crossfire.
Once they had scurried far enough away to risk it, they stood nearly upright, then ran as fast as the tangle of green and brown would allow.
The footing grew especially treacherous in places.
Janeway was stepping over a small boulder and glancing over her shoulder when she heard Kim shout into her ear.
In almost the same instant she felt him hit her hard in the side, tackle style, knocking her off her feet. She lay there, face in the dirt for an instant, then got her arms under her and lifted her head up. She heaved air into her empty lungs, filling them back up. As she shook off the daze from the fall, she understood.
The earth here was split, partly a result of the natural roll of the landscape, though