Ship of the Line - Diane Carey [106]
“This way!”
It was Captain Bateson, waving to him from inside a doorway. Riker angled in that direction, not slacking his pace. Bateson disappeared inside the darkened room, and Riker plunged in after him, then instantly flattened himself up against the wall.
Pitch dark in here—except for the faint red floor lights from the corridor.
An instant later, three—four—six Klingons came piling into the room, stinking of sweat and panting with blood-hunger.
Riker slipped back out the door behind them, and Bateson was immediately after. Giving Bateson one second to clear the door, Riker slammed his hand into the door control panel.
The door whooshed shut.
“Will, lock the door!”
The whole door panel boomed and rattled—Klingons had just slammed against it from inside. They were kicking it and pounding it with their weapons. Then there was the sound of a disruptor shot, but the door held somehow. Riker touched it—yes, it was warm.
Six of them, trapped!
“Hurry, Scotty!” he called down the corridor. “The door won’t take many more shots! Turn on the program!”
“Understood.” Down the corridor about ten feet, Scott worked at another panel, then said, “Computer on, Holodeck Two. Run Scott program 1A, continuous presentation, all vocal controls suspended, authorization Scott-E-five-two-seven-three.”
Almost instantly, from behind the door, a terrible cackling and screeching noise rose, counterpointed with the howls and furious shouts of Klingons.
“Shut it down!” a Klingon demanded from inside.
Then others started yelling—
“Program off! Program off!”
“Where are the controls?”
“Computer! Program off! Off, you metal tank!”
“Find the door! Look for the door!”
There was no more pounding on the panel where Riker stood. However, the howling, shouting and screeching from inside got much worse.
Much worse.
“What did you do to them?” Riker asked as he and Bateson joined a beaming Mr. Scott down the hall. “What’s going on in there?”
“I sent them to my great-uncle’s poultry farm,” Scott told them. “Lots of feathers and birdie guano to slip around on. Lots.”
Riker glanced at Bateson, then Bateson asked, “And how many chickens were on your great-uncle’s poultry farm, Scotty?”
“Oh … ‘round … forty-five thousand, give or take the odd Christmas goose, sir. And for every one they kill, the computer makes two more.”
Riker threw his head back and laughed. “Six Klingons and forty-five thousand chickens!”
“What battle methods!” Bateson complained. “George Washington’ll be spinning in his crypt!”
Scott brushed his hands together triumphantly. “And they’ll never find the door.”
The dark squares of their sails were urgent with menace, and Hornblower’s eye could read more than the mere drama of the silhouettes against the clear horizon.
Ship of the Line
Chapter 22
CARDASSIA PRIME
Madred Village
“What is it?”
“Mark! Stand back. Everybody take cover! Take cover! Atherton! Atherton, take cover! Everybody down. Mark, get your backside down.”
“It’s landing! Steve, are you seeing this? It’s preparing to land!”
“Nothing ever lands here! It’s got to be something else. Take cover right now!”
“Or what? You’ll tell Mom? That thing’s landing! Maybe we can get out—”
Steve McClellan grabbed his brother’s arm and pulled. “Then they’re coming to kill us. Move.”
Fighting his injured hip, Steve dragged Mark into the shadows where Brent Atherton, Dan Leith, and several other members of both crews were huddled.
This building had eight-inch walls of poured concrete … might provide some cover. Escape routes—to the right and directly behind. The left was cut off, but the right and behind were clear. One led to the sewers, one to the bank.
Once he decided they were leaving themselves a possible way out, Steve huddled and watched the Cardassian ship maneuver for a landing in the middle of the mall the Cardassians themselves had shattered.
It was a sight—a ship coming in for a landing. Here!