analyst."
"Let's get him to Sick Bay."
The conduit was just wide enough for one man, walking stooped over. Taking R'GaPs legs, N'Trol led, K'Raoda taking the arms, the Watcher slung between them as they moved slowly back through a narrow world of light and silence.
"This is the bridge level, Egg," said D'Trelna. "Where's the fierce opposition you promised us?" Glancing in the rear scan, he saw the corsair shuttle was maintaining speed and interval.
"This ship's had to awaken and gather its strength, Commodore," said the machine. "Soon. And should we survive, the way back won't be easy."
"D'Trelna," came K'Tran's voice, "we've passed enough hidden fusion batteries to stop a cruiser. Why haven't they fired?"
D'Trelna looked at Egg. The slaver machine didn't speak. "Perhaps we're wanted alive," said the commodore, watching the intersections warily. "This monster's strength isn't so much its size, K'Tran, as the power and maneuverability it draws from the human minds it's enslaved."
"You think they want to harvest us?" said A'Tir, a slight tremor to her voice.
"Count on it," said D'Trelna.
"I'd rather die," she said.
"You'll have the chance," said L'Wrona.
Suddenly the control panel and cabin lights winked off, as did the corridor lights. With a whine of dying n-gravs, the shuttle plunged toward the deck.
"Brakes!" shouted L'Wrona, throwing his arms across his face as they slammed into the deck.
"Negative!" cried D'Trelna, pulling back on the useless control stick.
Metal screaming, sparks flying, the shuttle spun down the corridor, angling toward the left wall. Egg's tendrils snapped back out, touching the controls.
Part of the instrument panel came alive again as the shuttle rose for an instant, then settled jerkily on its landing struts.
"My energy reserves are exhausted," whispered the slaver machine. Its light tendrils disappeared. With them went the brief burst of power that had saved the shuttle.
"Damper field," said D'Trelna weakly. Wiping his sweaty palms on his pants, he unbuckled and stood, peering into the utter darkness of the corridor. "What happened to K'Tran?"
"Alternate course plotted and set," said A'Tir, looking up from the shuttle's complink.
"Time to lose Fats and friends," said K'Tran, glancing at the course plot. "Next main intersection."
The damper field hit just as they turned. Their shuttle's systems failed for an instant, touched by the field's edge, then came back on as they moved down the side corridor.
"Now that's timing," grinned K'Tran.
"Think they've had it?" asked A'Tir.
K'Tran shrugged, eyes on the corridor. "Two very capable officers, D'Trelna and L'Wrona. And backed by ten of their best commandos. Don't count them out, Number One. But with luck, they and the R'Actolians will occupy each other till it's too late."
"Anyone hurt?" asked L'Wrona. He stood beside D'Trelna in the shuttle's passenger section.
"No," said S'Til. The commandos were out of their seats, taking the battlelamps S'Til was distributing from the aft storage area. The dim glow of six battery-powered lights provided a faint light. "Damper field?" she asked, handing each of the two senior officers a lamp.
"Probably," said D'Trelna, clipping the lamp to his belt.
Drawing her Mil A, S'Til set the beam low, pointed the muzzle at the roof and pulled the trigger. There was a faint click. "Damper field," she nodded. "Defense perimeter?" she asked L'Wrona.
The captain nodded. "Knives against whatever's out there. If we have to, we'll take that bridge on foot, bare-handed."
And club whatever to death with our boots, thought D'Trelna. "Surely not bare-handed," he said.
The arms locker was set into the bulkhead to the right of the airlock. Going to it, D'Trelna entered the combination on its keypad. Nothing happened. "Get that open," he ordered S'Til, jerking a thumb at the locker.
It only took her a moment, deftly jiggling her blade between locker panel and lock. The door gave with a snap. S'Til slid the door
"Let's get him to Sick Bay."
The conduit was just wide enough for one man, walking stooped over. Taking R'GaPs legs, N'Trol led, K'Raoda taking the arms, the Watcher slung between them as they moved slowly back through a narrow world of light and silence.
"This is the bridge level, Egg," said D'Trelna. "Where's the fierce opposition you promised us?" Glancing in the rear scan, he saw the corsair shuttle was maintaining speed and interval.
"This ship's had to awaken and gather its strength, Commodore," said the machine. "Soon. And should we survive, the way back won't be easy."
"D'Trelna," came K'Tran's voice, "we've passed enough hidden fusion batteries to stop a cruiser. Why haven't they fired?"
D'Trelna looked at Egg. The slaver machine didn't speak. "Perhaps we're wanted alive," said the commodore, watching the intersections warily. "This monster's strength isn't so much its size, K'Tran, as the power and maneuverability it draws from the human minds it's enslaved."
"You think they want to harvest us?" said A'Tir, a slight tremor to her voice.
"Count on it," said D'Trelna.
"I'd rather die," she said.
"You'll have the chance," said L'Wrona.
Suddenly the control panel and cabin lights winked off, as did the corridor lights. With a whine of dying n-gravs, the shuttle plunged toward the deck.
"Brakes!" shouted L'Wrona, throwing his arms across his face as they slammed into the deck.
"Negative!" cried D'Trelna, pulling back on the useless control stick.
Metal screaming, sparks flying, the shuttle spun down the corridor, angling toward the left wall. Egg's tendrils snapped back out, touching the controls.
Part of the instrument panel came alive again as the shuttle rose for an instant, then settled jerkily on its landing struts.
"My energy reserves are exhausted," whispered the slaver machine. Its light tendrils disappeared. With them went the brief burst of power that had saved the shuttle.
"Damper field," said D'Trelna weakly. Wiping his sweaty palms on his pants, he unbuckled and stood, peering into the utter darkness of the corridor. "What happened to K'Tran?"
"Alternate course plotted and set," said A'Tir, looking up from the shuttle's complink.
"Time to lose Fats and friends," said K'Tran, glancing at the course plot. "Next main intersection."
The damper field hit just as they turned. Their shuttle's systems failed for an instant, touched by the field's edge, then came back on as they moved down the side corridor.
"Now that's timing," grinned K'Tran.
"Think they've had it?" asked A'Tir.
K'Tran shrugged, eyes on the corridor. "Two very capable officers, D'Trelna and L'Wrona. And backed by ten of their best commandos. Don't count them out, Number One. But with luck, they and the R'Actolians will occupy each other till it's too late."
"Anyone hurt?" asked L'Wrona. He stood beside D'Trelna in the shuttle's passenger section.
"No," said S'Til. The commandos were out of their seats, taking the battlelamps S'Til was distributing from the aft storage area. The dim glow of six battery-powered lights provided a faint light. "Damper field?" she asked, handing each of the two senior officers a lamp.
"Probably," said D'Trelna, clipping the lamp to his belt.
Drawing her Mil A, S'Til set the beam low, pointed the muzzle at the roof and pulled the trigger. There was a faint click. "Damper field," she nodded. "Defense perimeter?" she asked L'Wrona.
The captain nodded. "Knives against whatever's out there. If we have to, we'll take that bridge on foot, bare-handed."
And club whatever to death with our boots, thought D'Trelna. "Surely not bare-handed," he said.
The arms locker was set into the bulkhead to the right of the airlock. Going to it, D'Trelna entered the combination on its keypad. Nothing happened. "Get that open," he ordered S'Til, jerking a thumb at the locker.
It only took her a moment, deftly jiggling her blade between locker panel and lock. The door gave with a snap. S'Til slid the door
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