Tooth and Claw - Doranna Durgin [23]
“No,” Akarr said, futilely attempting to stand not once but twice.
Riker came to the sudden realization that the ReynTa had not quite figured out that his stiff vest was caught on the edge of the seat, and fought the impulse to simply reach over and release it. That would be too easy… and it would only cause trouble later. He’d read Nadann Jesson’s report often enough to know that. So instead he turned away, looking back out the viewport and into the jungle. “It would seem that the Fandreans were mistaken when they said the shuttle’s shields would allow us to navigate safely within the technology dampers.”
Akarr grunted; Riker heard the scrape of leather against fabric. “They overestimated your shuttle, obviously. Or your piloting skills.”
Breathe slowly. For an entirely different reason this time. As mildly as possible, Riker said, “Or underestimated the effectiveness of their dampers.” He glanced down at Akarr. “It’s not important, not now. What’s important is getting us back to the museum in one piece.”
Rakal approached from the back of the shuttle. “It’s already too late for that.” He moved to the down-tilt side of Akarr, and twisted his neck in a quick gesture that showed a flash of throat. “ReynTa, Pavar is dead.”
“Dead?” Atann’s nostrils, set down close to Ms mouth, flared; he looked accusingly at Riker.
“He got out of his seat,” Riker said, keeping all judgment out of his tone.
“Several of us are injured—broken limbs, among those of us who were sitting next to the wall. Regen’s arm is broken; Ketan is badly hurt in the upper arm and shoulder. Gavare hit his head and is still bleeding. He is not yet sensible.” The Tsoran was hard to understand, and while Riker first blamed the being’s harsh and obtrusive under-purr, he quickly realized that the Universal Translator in his com badge wasn’t quite as seamless as usual with its response.
“And Takan?” Akarr asked.
“Takan and I are bruised, only.”
“As am I.” Akarr gave Riker a dismissive glance, as if to indicate that Riker’s condition, though obvious, was hardly important.
“First things first, then,” Riker said, as though he hadn’t noticed. “We’ll treat your men as best we can. Then we need to decide the best course of action. We made it about two-thirds of the way to our destination, as near as I can tell—that’s three days of walking in easy terrain. Meanwhile, the shuttle may not fly again, but it’s still shelter—and Worf will be looking for it.”
“Not until we are long past due,” Akarr scoffed.
“I sent out a Mayday of sorts. I’m betting La Forge picked it up. If he did, they’ll figure it out; they’ll send someone out to look.” There was a good chance. La Forge was there, after all, to work on the communications equipment. If he hadn’t noticed it directly, he was in the perfect position to hear about it. And if he heard about it, he’d figure out it was no accident. Once he’d done that… nothing would stop Worf from mounting a rescue effort.
Akarr merely made a snuffling noise of sorts. Not anything Riker made an attempt to interpret. First things first, he told himself. Retrieve the med kits, see what was functional and useful.
The med kit contents turned out to be his first good news of the… well, for several days, now. Someone had replaced the highly technological components of the kits with basic supplies. Bandages. Cut-glue. Antibiotic salves and anti venom patches … even insect repellent, a water-purifying plug for the canteen, and incendiary tablets. And once he was through poking around Riker was sure the changes were Worf’s doing-for the small weapons locker held not useless phasers, but sharp-edged knives with thick, sturdy blades from a Klingon forge. And even better… a bat’leth.
Not that he intended to go hand-to-hand with anything —neither with his passengers, as much as he might be tempted, nor with the creatures prowling the jungle around them. But… it still felt good when his hands closed around