Planet X - Michael Jan Friedman [66]
While our weapons and our deflector shields are useless at the moment, we still retain some mobility at impulse speeds. The Connharakt, on the other hand, still boasts the use of her shields and some of her weapon batteries—but thanks to the success of our saboteurs, she sits dead in the water, incapable of offering pursuit.
A message has been sent to the nearest starbase, notifying it of our predicament. Xhaldia is, therefore, assured of assistance, regardless of what happens to the Enterprise—though I do not know when that assistance will arrive or in what form.
In the meantime, I have ordered the dispatch of a third shuttle to the city of Verdeen on Xhaldia’s northern continent. After all, our efforts will have availed us nothing if we cannot stop the Draa’kon from carrying out their agenda on the planet’s surface …
Whatever that agenda may be.
Crusher approached Archangel’s biobed, where he lay unconscious, recovering from his bout with a coalescing force barrier. At least, that was how Worf had described it.
Gazing at her patient, the doctor decided that Deanna was right. The mutant was too handsome for his own good.
Suddenly, Archangel’s eyes opened wide, startling her with their naked fury. His hand shot out and grabbed her wrist, twisting it painfully.
“Where … ?” he gasped.
“The Enterprise,” she told him gently, pulling her hand back with an effort. “Sickbay. You were injured on the Draa’kon ship … remember?”
Slowly, understanding began to dawn. “The Enterprise,” he echoed.
“You suffered a considerable jolt to your nervous system,” the doctor explained, checking his vital signs on the bed’s readout. “With the help of our cell regenerators, you’ll eventually be as good as new—but it’ll take a little time.”
What she saw on the readout surprised her. Quickly, she ran a diagnostic, which came up negative. Then she scanned the biodata again, with exactly the same results.
It seemed Archangel was doing a lot better than she had expected. In a couple of hours, he had made a full day’s worth of progress.
He frowned. “Where are my teammates?”
“They’ve gone down to the planet’s surface,” Crusher told him. “To try to deal with the Draa’kon.”
The mutant cursed and tried to sit up. Remarkably, he succeeded.
“I should be with them,” he said. “Storm and the others …”
He tried to slide off the bed, but she restrained him. It wasn’t easy, either. Obviously, he had regained a good deal of his strength.
“They’ll be all right,” she told him.
Disgusted with his weakness, he allowed her to move him back again. “Are you sure about that?” he said.
Crusher wasn’t, of course. Not any more than she could have been sure Lt. Wayne would survive the boarding of the Connharakt.
“I didn’t think so,” Archangel said. He turned away, no doubt imagining the worst.
“You feel responsible for them,” she observed. “Even though you’re not the one in charge.”
Her patient turned to her again. “That’s right. Storm’s our leader … but I’m the one who’s been around the longest.” His eyes lost their focus for a moment. “I was one of the first, you know.”
“The first … ?”
“X-Men,” he told her. “A member of the original team formed by Professor Xavier, before the world had even heard of mutants.”
“Professor Xavier,” said the doctor. “He’s your … leader?”
“Leader, mentor, father figure … all of that. Professor X was the one with the vision. He saw that a clash was coming between homo sapiens and homo superior. And he wanted the world to survive that clash—to see a day when mutants and normal humans could live together in peace.”
“Sounds like a worthwhile goal,” the doctor said.
Her patient shrugged. “Worthwhile—and maybe impossible.”
“Things haven’t worked out the way the professor planned?”
“Not so far,” Archangel conceded.
His eyes glazed over, as if with memories he didn’t feel like talking about. Then they brightened a bit.
“But the situation on Xhaldia is still new,” the mutant told her. “It’s still taking shape. The transformed have a better chance