Section 31_ Rogue - Andy Mangels [61]
Then the Chiarosan stepped quickly backward; with an impossibly limber motion, he delivered a spinning kick to Hawk’s shoulder, knocking him to the stone floor. The wind rushed from the lieutenant’s lungs. His fall was considerably more painful than he expected, no doubt because of the planet’s intense gravitational field. Compared to the point-three-eight Earth-normal gravity he’d grown up with in Bradbury City, the pull of Chiaros was downright brutal. Hawk rolled, hugging his rifle, barely avoiding being eviscerated by one of the guard’s swords. A second blade sang past his ear and clanged deafeningly against the stone floor.
Compared to this guy, Ranul’s holodeck pirates are pushovers.
But although the Chiarosan was strong and fast, Hawk wasn’t out of moves just yet. Tripping the release on the rifle’s strap, Hawk swept the weapon beneath the warrior’s feet, bringing him to the ground with a heavy thump. Hawk rose, then slammed the rifle’s stock up under the Chiarosan’s jaw as the guard scrambled to recover his footing. Hawk hastened to deliver another smashing blow, stunning his adversary and knocking him down once more. But the guard didn’t appear injured-he looked annoyed, and again rose to confront Hawk.
A phaser beam suddenly hit the Chiarosan squarely in the chest, instantly incinerating most of his body cavity. He was dead before his massive body struck the stone floor. The stench of scorched flesh permeated the corridor, making Hawk’s gorge rise.
Incredulous, Hawk turned toward the admiral, whose phaser was still raised. At that moment, he couldn’t help wondering how Section 31 could really be any worse than the Federation’s so-called “legitimate” intelligence agency.
Hawk spoke haltingly as he recovered his breath. “Was… that… really… necessary?”
The admiral’s eyes were steel. “Stunning these people only makes them mad,” she said. “And I’m through wasting time.” Calmly, she holstered her weapon and resumed making tricorder scans. “There are no lifesigns in this part of the detention area. They must have moved the prisoners.”
Hawk’s throat clenched involuntarily. “Or killed them.”
Batanides adjusted the tricorder and her expression brightened. “No. I’m picking up human lifesigns, about a hundred meters that way.” She gestured toward a “T” intersection about twenty meters down the corridor, and they began quietly walking in that direction. Hawk stayed in front, controlling his breathing, keeping his rifle at the ready.
“The tricorder says there’s a Tellarite among the humans,” she said.
“That would be the Slayton’s CMO,” Hawk said, nodding. “Dr. Gomp.”
“You know him?”
Hawk shook his head. “I took a look at the Slayton’s crew manifest last night.”
“Sounds more like you memorized it.”
He shrugged, unaccountably embarrassed. Though he rarely showed off his eidetic memory gratuitously, he couldn’t deny that it often came in handy.
The admiral returned her attention to the tricorder, then suddenly stopped walking. Hawk followed suit when he turned and saw the look of alarm on her face.
“What’s wrong?” Hawk said. He thought he could hear distant shouting.
“A whole bunch of Chiarosan life-form signatures are approaching, fast,” she said. “And they’re getting between us and the prisoners.”
He gripped the phaser rifle tightly. “I guess we’re not going to make that first rendezvous at the beam-up coordinates after all.”
She tucked the tricorder away and took up her phaser. “Then we’ll have to switch to Plan B,” she said, gesturing toward his rifle. Its stock was slick with sweat. “Lieutenant, this time you’d better remember that that thing is not a club.”
Then she bolted ahead of Hawk in the direction of the oncoming din. He was surprised at her speed, and sprinted to keep up.
Picard took the Kepler into a steep dive until