Tooth and Claw - Doranna Durgin [73]
“Then, yes, it will take us out of here.” Worf hesitated, tracking something through the upper trees before returning his attention to the conversation. “Lieutenant Commander La Forge speculated that the surge problem the Fandreans have been experiencing with the interlocking shields and technology damper is to blame for problems with the Rahjah. He modified the Collins shields with this in mind. It does not appear to have been completely successful.”
“Define success,” Riker said. “I define it as getting us out of here.”
“We’ll be ready to move Ketan in a moment,” Shefen said, looking up from his ministrations.
“Let us know if there’s anything we can do to help,” Riker told him.
“Sir, I respectfully suggest that you go inside,” Worf said. “There is a roed kit inside. Your wounds should be tended.”
Riker said, “I was kind of getting used to the smell of the sap. What do you think? Not too bad, is it?”
Worf merely looked at him. Wordless, expressionless saying it all.
Riker put on the appearance of great deliberation. “I suppose it might get a little overpowering in a closed shuttlecraft. Especially if we’re light on environmentals.”
“We are,” Worf said distinctly, “going to be light on environmentals.”
“Let me help,” Zefan offered. “I’m not familiar with specific human needs, but I know these injuries.”
Riker nodded. “Thank you. Mr. Worf, keep an eye on things out here.”
“Sir,” Worf said, meaning as if you had to ask.
Zefan worked quickly but with a light and careful touch. Cleaned up reasonably well, filled with broad spectrum antibiotics, antimycotics and antivirals, his arm and back sprayed with a light topical anesthetic and his system responding to a mild hypospray restorative, Riker had to admit the time taken was well spent. The Tsorans were aboard and strapped in, the Fandreans had
conferred about some issue they hadn’t cared to share, and Worf had closed the shuttle door, only then securing his own and Riker’s bat’leths in the weapons locker. Everything snug and cozy. Riker contemplated the large, hard-shelled and slow-paced insect inspecting the juncture of the shuttle floor and wall, and decided to leave it alone. It could get off at the next stop.
He slid into the copilot’s seat as Worf fiddled with the communications control. “I have sent a message telling them we’re on our way,” he said, not looking up at Riker. “I do not expect them to get it.”
“Neither do I,” Riker said. “We’ll have to stick to the portal schedule. How are we doing for time?”
“We should make the next scheduled opening,” Worf said, and this time he did glance over at Riker. “If the shuttle stays in the air.”
“If,” Riker agreed. “And if we miss it for some reason ?”
“We will have another opportunity, six hours later.”
“And then two days after that,” Riker said absently, eyeing the shuttle engine status monitors as Worf brought the engines up to full standby power and spotting the same sort of fluctuations—albeit more subtle ones—that had taken the Rahjah down.
“No offense, Commander,” Worf said, “but I have no intention of staying in this shuttle’s current atmospheric conditions for two days. We will make the first opening.”
Riker grinned. “No offense taken, Mr. Worf.”
Akarr, his voice full of some of the regal imperative it had lost over the last hours, inquired, “Do some of us need to get out and push this vehicle to start, Riker?”
“It is Commander Riker to you,” Worf said. “And that will not be necessary.” He made a few quick adjustments and Riker’s eyes widened slightly; he had just
enough time to sit firmly in his seat before the shuttle leapt into the air, climbing a nearly vertical path to clear the trees. Oblivious of the cries of protest, Worf immediately leveled their flight path. Then he turned to say casually to Riker, “Unfortunate power surge.”
“Most unfortunate,” Riker agreed sternly. “Do you have things under control