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Star Trek - NF - 005 - Martyr

Page 45

by Peter David


 

  There was a deep crevice just ahead of them, and Burgoynedisdaining to scamper the rest of the waycoiled and then leaped, clearing the distance of fifteen feet in one vault. Cautious of a possible booby trap, Burgoyne tentatively stuck hir head over the edge and peered down.

 

  Wedged in, far below, was a familiar dark-skinned form.

 

  "Kebron!" called Burgoyne. "Kebron, it's me! Burgoyne one-seventy-two! Kebron!" A moment later, Janos appeared at Burgoyne's side. "Kebron, can you hear me?"

 

 

 

  ") if( !cssCompatible ) document.write("

 

  There seemed to be a slight appearance of movement on Kebron's part. He tried to angle his head upward, but since his neck was virtually nonexistent, this was somewhat problematic for him. He had to try and tilt his entire torso back as best he could, and was only partly successful. His voice strained with the effort. "I . . . hear you," he said slowly.

 

  The crevice had to be at least twenty feet down. "Kebron, we'll get you out of there!" called Burgoyne.

 

  "Can't," he told them, and he'd never sounded so tired. "Grav generator . . . out. . . can barely . . . move. . . ."

 

  Immediately Burgoyne knew what had happened. Zak Kebron was so massive, that the only way he was able to move in a non-Brikar gravity field was with a small portable gravity generator that he wore in his belt. It was virtually impossible to break the generator through conventional means. Something had managed to short it out, however, and Kebron was clearly finding it impossible to do anything.

 

  Burgoyne tapped hir commbadge in an endeavor to raise the Excalibur. Hir reasoning was simple Beam Kebron up out of the crevice. This intention, however, was quickly thwarted when all s/he could get over hir commbadge was static. And the idea of Burgoyne and Janos going down and trying to pull Kebron out was simply an impossibility. Even between the two of them, and the considerable strength that Janos possessed, there was just no way that they could possibly haul Kebron out from the crevice.

 

  "Kebron!" Burgoyne called down to him. "You'll have to wait there until we find some way to get you out!"

 

  "Wait . . . fine . . . not planning on . . . going anywhere . . ."

 

  "What happened, Lieutenant?" Janos called down. "What did this to you? How many of them are there?"

 

 

 

 

 

  Kebron didn't seem to hear at first. He appeared stunned, and Burgoyne realized that it was a condition beyond anything that the simple deprivation of the field generator could have caused. Kebron was in shock.

 

  "Hundreds of them . . ." Kebron said. "Thousands . . . couldn't stop them . . ."

 

  Burgoyne and Janos looked at each other. "That sounds pleasant," Janos observed.

 

  "Kebron, be strong," Burgoyne urged him, although s/he wasn't sure just exactly how much good that was going to do. "We'll be back for you as soon as we can."

 

  No reply came back.

 

  Quickly the two officers vaulted the crevice, sniffing the air, the dirt, anything they could. And this time it was Burgoyne who picked up the scent. S/he had been crouched on the ground, running the crumbling dirt under hir fingers, and s/he detected something that became stronger as s/he moved off to hir right. "Got it!" Burgoyne called. "Got the captain!"

 

  "Brilliant!" crowed Janos.

 

  "It seems as if" S/he prowled the area, trying to confirm what s/he already suspected. "Yes. Whoever took the captain was likely carrying him, and then became tired and started dragging him. This way."

 

  "I'm with you, Chief."

 

  Quickly they set off across the terrain, moving with amazing speed. The scent grew stronger the farther along that Burgoyne went, and within moments s/he was no longer running in anything that vaguely approximated humanoid manner. S/he was sprinting on all fours, a satisfied growl low in hir throat, and there was no concern whatsoever about what s/he might run into. S/he was completely focused on the hunt.

 

  And it wasn't just about finding the captain, either. S/he was eager to track down the person or persons

 

 

 

  ") else document.write("

 

  There seemed to be a slight appearance of movement on Kebron's part. He tried to angle his head upward, but since his neck was virtually nonexistent, this was somewhat problematic for him. He had to try and tilt his entire torso back as best he could, and was only partly successful. His voice strained with the effort. "I . . . hear you," he said slowly.

 

  The crevice had to be at least twenty feet down. "Kebron, we'll get you out of there!" called Burgoyne.

 

  "Can't," he told them, and he'd never sounded so tired. "Grav generator . . . out. . . can barely . . . move. . . ."

 

  Immediately Burgoyne knew what had happened. Zak Kebron was so massive, that the only way he was able to move in a non-Brikar gravity field was with a small portable gravity generator that he wore in his belt. It was virtually impossible to break the generator through conventional means. Something had managed to short it out, however, and Kebron was clearly finding it impossible to do anything.

 

  Burgoyne tapped hir commbadge in an endeavor to raise the Excalibur. Hir reasoning was simple Beam Kebron up out of the crevice. This intention, however, was quickly thwarted when all s/he could get over hir commbadge was static. And the idea of Burgoyne and Janos going down and trying to pull Kebron out was simply an impossibility. Even between the two of them, and the considerable strength that Janos possessed, there was just no way that they could possibly haul Kebron out from the crevice.

 

  "Kebron!" Burgoyne called down to him. "You'll have to wait there until we find some way to get you out!"

 

  "Wait . . . fine . . . not planning on . . . going anywhere . . ."

 

  "What happened, Lieutenant?" Janos called down. "What did this to you? How many of them are there?"

 

 

 

 

 

  Kebron didn't seem to hear at first. He appeared stunned, and Burgoyne realized that it was a condition beyond anything that the simple deprivation of the field generator could have caused. Kebron was in shock.

 

  "Hundreds of them . . ." Kebron said. "Thousands . . . couldn't stop them . . ."

 

  Burgoyne and Janos looked at each other. "That sounds pleasant," Janos observed.

 

  "Kebron, be strong," Burgoyne urged him, although s/he wasn't sure just exactly how much good that was going to do. "We'll be back for you as soon as we can."

 

  No reply came back.

 

  Quickly the two officers vaulted the crevice, sniffing the air, the dirt, anything they could. And this time it was Burgoyne who picked up the scent. S/he had been crouched on the ground, running the crumbling dirt under hir fingers, and s/he detected something that became stronger as s/he moved off to hir right. "Got it!" Burgoyne called. "Got the captain!"

 

  "Brilliant!" crowed Janos.

 

  "It seems as if" S/he prowled the area, trying to confirm what s/he already suspected. "Yes. Whoever took the captain was likely carrying him, and then became tired and started dragging him. This way."

 

  "I'm with you, Chief."

 

&nb
sp; Quickly they set off across the terrain, moving with amazing speed. The scent grew stronger the farther along that Burgoyne went, and within moments s/he was no longer running in anything that vaguely approximated humanoid manner. S/he was sprinting on all fours, a satisfied growl low in hir throat, and there was no concern whatsoever about what s/he might run into. S/he was completely focused on the hunt.

 

  And it wasn't just about finding the captain, either. S/he was eager to track down the person or persons

 

 

 

  ") if( !cssCompatible ) document.write("

 

  who had abused Selar. S/he wanted to wrap hir fingers around their throats, s/he wanted to sink hir teeth deep into their flesh, to rend and tear . . .

 

  There was a faint buzzing in hir head that began to grow louder and louder, but s/he wasn't fully aware of it. Instead s/he was completely wrapped up in the thoughts of what s/he was going to do to Selar's assailants when s/he got hir hands on them. S/he could almost taste the sweetness of their blood pumping into hir, could savor the screams for mercy that they would utter. But there would be no mercy. There would only be slaughter, and blood, and Burgoyne's laughter combined with a triumphant roar . . .

 

  S/he took another step, then another, and the buzzing was becoming louder still, and finally s/he became aware of it in a distant manner, wondering what it was . . .

 

  And suddenly s/he was on the Excalibur.

 

  S/he looked around in confusion, not entirely sure how the devil s/he'd gotten back there. The corridors were empty. S/he began to run, calling out names of various crewmembers, trying to find someone. S/he didn't even think to hit the commbadge on hir chest. S/he just yelled, becoming angrier as hir cries were ignored.

 

  S/he ran into engineering, and everyone was theres Everyone. Everyone s/he'd ever known, everyone s/he'd ever encountered. Hir parents were there, and others from Hermatnot friends, certainly, for s/he'd had no real friends on Hermatand the engineering crew, and the command crew. There was Calhoun standing there, arms folded, shaking his head in clear disdain, and Shelby's face twisted in contempt, and the others were all pointing, shouting at hir.

 

  "Freak!" they called out. Over and over came the

 

 

 

 

 

  word, "Freak, freak!" spoken with derision, cried out in a hundred different voices that combined as one.

 

  A freak to hir own people, for the outgoing and sexually joyful Burgoyne had never truly fit in with other Hermats, who tended to prefer their own kind. Freak to the people of the Excalibur, who had never known a Hermat before and didn't at all know what to make of hir. All the suspicious glances, the scornful looks, all aimed at hir. S/he tried to back out of engineering, but the door had closed behind hir and refused to open.

 

  "Get away from me!" shouted Burgoyne. "Get away!"

 

  Instead, they advanced, and there was McHenry in the forefront, shaking his head and saying, "You were just an experiment! An exercise in weirdness! I never found you attractive, never!" and there was Selar, as burned and battered as when s/he'd last seen her, and Selar was sneering, "Even on my deathbed I'd never want you! You vile, bizarre thing! You sickening, perverted monster!"

 

  Burgoyne roared in fury. The hackles on the back of hir neck rose, hir eyes went completely dark, and hir claws were fully extended. All of the playfulness, all of the confidence, everything that made hir what s/he was, had vanished. All s/he knew were those who feared hir, hated hir, despised hir either behind her back or to hir face.

 

  " I'll kill you!" s/he howled, and with uncontrolled frenzy s/he leaped forward . . .

 

  And crashed squarely into Ensign Janos.

 

  Janos, who was surrounded by mugatos, his own kind with whom he had as much in common as he had with an amoeba. Mugatos jumping around, snarling at him, picking at him and poking at him in the midst of the jungle on Tyree's World to which

 

  ") else document.write("

 

  who had abused Selar. S/he wanted to wrap hir fingers around their throats, s/he wanted to sink hir teeth deep into their flesh, to rend and tear . . .

 

  There was a faint buzzing in hir head that began to grow louder and louder, but s/he wasn't fully aware of it. Instead s/he was completely wrapped up in the thoughts of what s/he was going to do to Selar's assailants when s/he got hir hands on them. S/he could almost taste the sweetness of their blood pumping into hir, could savor the screams for mercy that they would utter. But there would be no mercy. There would only be slaughter, and blood, and Burgoyne's laughter combined with a triumphant roar . . .

 

  S/he took another step, then another, and the buzzing was becoming louder still, and finally s/he became aware of it in a distant manner, wondering what it was . . .

 

  And suddenly s/he was on the Excalibur.

 

  S/he looked around in confusion, not entirely sure how the devil s/he'd gotten back there. The corridors were empty. S/he began to run, calling out names of various crewmembers, trying to find someone. S/he didn't even think to hit the commbadge on hir chest. S/he just yelled, becoming angrier as hir cries were ignored.

 

  S/he ran into engineering, and everyone was theres Everyone. Everyone s/he'd ever known, everyone s/he'd ever encountered. Hir parents were there, and others from Hermatnot friends, certainly, for s/he'd had no real friends on Hermatand the engineering crew, and the command crew. There was Calhoun standing there, arms folded, shaking his head in clear disdain, and Shelby's face twisted in contempt, and the others were all pointing, shouting at hir.

 

  "Freak!" they called out. Over and over came the

 

 

 

 

 

  word, "Freak, freak!" spoken with derision, cried out in a hundred different voices that combined as one.

 

  A freak to hir own people, for the outgoing and sexually joyful Burgoyne had never truly fit in with other Hermats, who tended to prefer their own kind. Freak to the people of the Excalibur, who had never known a Hermat before and didn't at all know what to make of hir. All the suspicious glances, the scornful looks, all aimed at hir. S/he tried to back out of engineering, but the door had closed behind hir and refused to open.

 

  "Get away from me!" shouted Burgoyne. "Get away!"

 

  Instead, they advanced, and there was McHenry in the forefront, shaking his head and saying, "You were just an experiment! An exercise in weirdness! I never found you attractive, never!" and there was Selar, as burned and battered as when s/he'd last seen her, and Selar was sneering, "Even on my deathbed I'd never want you! You vile, bizarre thing! You sickening, perverted monster!"

 

  Burgoyne roared in fury. The hackles on the back of hir neck rose, hir eyes went completely dark, and hir claws were fully extended. All of the playfulness, all of the confidence, everything that made hir what s/he was, had vanished. All s/he knew were those who feared hir, hated hir, despised hir either behind her back or to hir face.

 

  " I'll kill you!" s/he howled, and with uncontrolled frenzy s/he leaped forward . . .

 

  And crashed squarely into Ensign Janos.

 

  Janos, who was surrounded by mugatos, his own kind with whom he had as much in common as he had with an amoeba. Mugatos jumping around, snarling at him, picking at him and poking at him in the midst of the jungle on Tyree's World to whi
ch

 

  ") if( !cssCompatible ) document.write("

 

  mugatos were native. Janos had never set foot, paw, or anything else upon Tyree's World, but he had known it just the same. They prodded at him with their horns, they tore at him with their poisonous fangs, which were not toxic to him, but could rip him up and injure him just the same. He cried out as they came at him from all directions, and then the carefully cultivated personality that he'd worked so long to develop evaporated, and Janos bellowed, a truly frightening sound of a mugato in full rage. A mugato seeking an enemy to rend limb from limb.

 

  It was in this state of mind that Burgoyne and Janos slammed into each other.

 

  And nearby, something formed of coalescing energy took shape and started to advance upon them.

 

  XVII .

 

  THE LONG RANGE SENSORS gave the Excalibur her first warning that there was danger imminent.

 

  Boyajian, the tactical officer filling in for Kebron due to the security chief's absence, called out to Soleta, who was in the command chair. "We have an incoming vessel, Lieutenant. And it's big."

 

  "Put it on screen," Soleta said calmly.

 

  "Not yet possible, sir. Hasn't emerged from warp space yet." He paused and then said, "Orders, sir?"

 

  Soleta considered the situation a moment. Unknown territory, an unknown vessel coming toward them, intentions unknown. She didn't like to take an immediate defensive posture with a new encounter, since it could make them look as if they were combative or spoiling for a fight. Nonetheless, not doing anything would be tempting fate, particularly if the other vessel dropped out of warp space with all weapons blazing.

 

  Lefler and McHenry were both looking at her expectantly, as were the other members of the bridge

 

  ") else document.write("

 

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