Ship of the Line - Diane Carey [107]
Steve didn’t stop him. Everyone in the Madred Village had lived intimately with death for months upon months. They didn’t coddle each other here. There was no good in it.
“Then we’ll fight. We’ve been fighting the Cardies’ way all these months, we can fight to save our own lives. We know how to do it. It’s for real this time.”
The lack of response, in fact the very coldness that blanketed everyone else right now, was a bitter testimonial. Other than straight surrender, there was no other way.
And if the Cardassians had decided it was time for their guinea pigs to die, nothing in the sector could stop that. The Federation crews were completely boxed in.
“Unless …”
Had he said that? Yes he did.
“Unless we can take that ship.”
“Take it?” Mark McClellan shoved his brother around to face him. “Are you crazy?”
“It’s a way off, isn’t it? Look at it! Warp nacelles. We can take that vessel and get out of Cardassian space!”
“You’re nuts. All right, let’s try.”
“Brent?”
“I agree. How many charged phasers do we have?”
“Seven, between both crews,” Les reported from somewhere in the dark. “Ten molotovs, sixteen crowbars, nine shrapnel grenades, four radiation grenades, and two concussion salvos.”
“Got it,” Steve said, adding up the odds in his head.
“They’re down!” Mark called, and everyone fell silent.
Out in the middle of the mall under the moonless night, a full-sized Cardassian warship settled hoggishly onto the cracked and pocked pavement, lit only by the reflection of its own harsh scene lights.
What a massive and ugly thing it was, its hull of flinty scales, its windowless body, its hungry weapons arrays.
How could they take a thing like that? They’d have to. This was the critical moment. Take the ship, or die here and hope posterity got something out of it.
Around him, the crews had gone utterly silent. No one moved. Not a pebble grated. In all these months, they’d learned how to hide.
Only Atherton moved—he shifted close to Steve and put his lips near Steve’s ear. “Somebody’s getting off.”
Steve squinted into the darkness. He’s never learned to see at distances quite as well as Atherton could. Yes, there was a portside hatch coming open, and a ramp dropping down. Foggy light from inside the craft obscured the humanoid forms that appeared at the top of the ramp.
One … two … three … four people.
Atherton’s arm pressed against Steve’s as they huddled together, watching.
“A human!” Atherton gulped. Out of habit he kept his voice down to almost nothing. “What’s a human doing riding with Cardassians on a Cardassian fighter?”
“I don’t know,” Steve uttered.
“Do we fight them?” Mark asked.
“I don’t know.”
“Do you recognize him?”
“No …”
“What do we do?”
“I guess … I better go out and talk to them.”
“Steve!” Mark gasped the cry out loud, unable to contain himself. “The hell you will!”
“Stand down,” Steve snapped. “That’s an order!”
“Order, hell!”
Atherton shoved Mark back. “Shut up right now! Steve, let me go. You’ve got more crew here than I do.”
“And you’ve got more experience. If I’m neutralized, they’ll still have you in command. I’ve got to go now, before I pee myself.”
Brent Atherton let out a gallows chuckle. “Well, don’t do that.”
As he stood up on shuddering legs, he heard his brother’s pathetic whisper. “Neutralized …”
Steve McClellan moved laterally across the concrete building, then across the backs of two other buildings and down an alley, until he was well away from any of the crew. When he emerged onto the open mall, he was relatively sure he hadn’t given away anyone else’s position.
His hands were cold, clammy. He was sweating beneath what was left of his uniform. And shivering. Death walked with him as he crunched over the rubble toward the three Cardassians and the human.
Two Cardassians stopped coming forward when they saw him. Guards … both armed.
A shiver ran up Steve’s spine as he anticipated the shock of an energy bolt from those weapons.
Then the third Cardassian