The Sky's the Limit - Marco Palmieri [111]
“Aye, sir,” Deanna said.
She put her hand on Data’s shoulder. “Data, what’s the best way to retrieve a thruster? Can we transport one aboard without interfering with the mapping?”
“Yes, Commander,” said Data. “Doctor Aaron, if you will pull up your schematic showing the thruster locations and ensure that they are turned off, I will beam the nearest unit into the isolation chamber.”
Aaron nodded and tapped the aft starboard console.
“The thruster is aboard,” announced Data moments later.
“Data, why don’t you—” Deanna started to say, when an explosion rocked the rear of the runabout. All of them except Data cried out as they were thrown off balance. Data and Taurik were pitched forward over their consoles while Deanna and Doctor Aaron both lost their footing.
“Report!” cried Deanna, as she pulled herself up and along the bulkhead toward the forward viewport. Through it, she glimpsed stars moving in a disorienting, circular motion, then an alarming view of Beta, which was far too close.
“Commander, it appears that an explosion near aft starboard has caused us to start spinning. Attempting to stabilize,” said Data, his fingers dancing over his console.
By this time Taurik was scanning his own instruments. “One of the aft thrusters is malfunctioning.”
An alarm klaxon began to blare. “Warning,” said the dispassionate voice of the computer. “Collision alert. Warn—” The alarm cut out as abruptly as it had begun.
“Computer, shields,” said Deanna.
“Shield generator is off-line,” said the computer. “Backup generator is operational. Shields at 80 percent.”
“Reroute power to the backup generator—” The runabout lurched sideways and Deanna staggered.
“The aft port impulse engine is firing intermittently,” Data said. “It fired near the top of our spin and almost sent us into the moonlet. An impact may still occur if we cannot get the thruster under control.”
“Can you cut off its fuel supply?” Deanna asked.
Another lurch.
“Negative, Commander,” said Data. “The computer is unable to reestablish communications with that engine. Some of the relays must have been damaged in the explosion. I am attempting to compensate by reversing forward engines—”
He was interrupted when the collision alarm sounded again. Through the viewport, Deanna saw Beta rushing up to meet them as the runabout dove at a steep angle.
“Brace for impact,” Data called over the sound of the klaxon.
Time seemed to slow as the nose of the runabout burrowed into the moonlet’s surface, sending debris flying. As Deanna pitched forward into the back of Data’s seat, momentum lifted the back of the runabout, throwing it into a clumsy end-over-end somersault that took it back off the surface. The runabout rotated completely, throwing her against the ceiling, before coming back down hard and skidding sideways across Beta’s surface until it was stopped by a ridge that was more solid than it looked. The sudden stop slammed Deanna into the bulkhead across from the station where Doctor Aaron had been monitoring the sensor readings.
Confusion. Concern.
Deanna groaned as the emergency lighting kicked on, illuminating the runabout’s interior with a red glow, and felt the back of her head. No blood, and her vision didn’t seem to be blurred, so she probably didn’t have a concussion.
Gingerly, she pulled herself up, using the bulkhead for support. A dazed Taurik was checking his limbs for injury, but Data, still wedged in his seat, was motionless, and Doctor Aaron lay unmoving on the floor at the back of the cabin.
“Are you hurt, Ensign?” Deanna asked Taurik.
“I do not think so, Commander,” he answered, in spite of a small cut on his forehead.
“Check Data. I’ll check Doctor Aaron,” she said, staggering. Without the minimal protection that the pilot seats had afforded Data and Taurik, the scientist had been thrown about as much as she had. He lay on his back, one arm thrown over his face as if to protect himself. As she made her way toward him, Deanna stopped to pull an emergency medkit from the port wall.
“Doctor Aaron?” said Deanna