|
Sulu shoved his captive
along ahead of him, happy to use him for a shield.
Scotty followed close
behind, Chekov's body slung over his shoulder in a fireman's carry; and
Kirk brought up the rear, tugging the Stella android, which had still
not recovered from the news of Mudd's death. She tottered along
precariously, not resisting but not helping at all, taking a step when
Kirk's forward motion overbalanced her and she was forced to move in
order to stay upright.
The noise and confusion
worked to their advantage at first--nobody paid much attention to the
aliens in their midst when they had deadly enemies to kill--but the
closer they drew to the line of fire, the less that mattered. Disruptor
fire ripped past on either side, some of it coming from behind as
overeager Prastorians tried to get in lucky shots from cover. Sulu kept
his head down and bullied on through, his skin crawling in anticipation
of that one fatal shot that would find him amid the others.
What he felt first, however,
was the fiery heat and jolt of impact as his prisoner took an energy
beam in the stomach. The Prastorian doubled over and fell to the
pavement, exposing Sulu to more fire, but Scotty's surprised yell made
him ignore his own danger and whirl around to help his crewmate.
Scotty seemed uninjured, but
his eyes were wild and white all the way around. It took Sulu a moment
to realize he wasn't carrying Chekov anymore. He looked down, expecting
to see his friend's body on the paving stones, but Chekov wasn't there,
either.
"He vanished," Scotty said,
shouting to be heard over the cries of battle all around them. "Just . .
. vanished."
"Are we out from under the
shield yet?" Kirk demanded. "Maybe the Enterprise beamed him
aboard."
Scotty glanced at his
tricorder, left activated on his belt. "Not yet. We've still got fifteen
feet to go." He looked up, his eyes widening, and he shouted, "Look
out!"
He grabbed for Sulu's arm
and tugged him to the side, but he wasn't quick enough. Sulu felt the
searing fire of a disruptor charge rip through his right side. His
breath left him in a convulsive scream, and when he tried to breathe in
again he found that he could not. Either his diaphragm was paralyzed of
his lungs had collapsed, he didn't know which.
He did know that he had
maybe twenty seconds of consciousness left before he became another dead
weight for Scotty to carry, so he did the only thing he could think of
to help save his own life; He drew his phaser--awkwardly with his left
hand when his right refused to cooperate--set it to maximum stun, and
fired ahead to clear a path for him to run across the street.
He could hardly walk, much
less run. He staggered ahead, his entire right side in agony, stumbling
over the bodies of the dead and the people he had merely stunned.
But he had drawn too much
attention to himself. Distrellians and Prastorians alike turned to see
who was this new enemy in their midst, and he couldn't shoot fast enough
to take them all down. He saw ten, twenty arms raise in unison, and from
the disruptor pistol in each of them, white hot death shot forth and
blasted him into oblivion. |
