Part 20 (1/2)

Data could not ask Tasha to climb down the cliffside the way he had come up, so they had a long journey to the hidden flyer. It was almost two hours later that they finally soared across the chasm, toward a battle that showed no signs of slacking.

Tasha Yar let Data do the piloting, trusting his android senses to keep them from hitting trees, hills, or other flyers as they swung beneath one of the military craft so she could get off a shot at its vulnerable thrusters.

She took out the left one, and the flyer spun wildly.

”Got 'em!” she exclaimed as Data took them up and away from the crash.

They whipped over the top of a slow troop carrier, and pulled up beside a sleek fighter, Data somehow holding the clumsy civilian craft in tandem while Yar took out both the startled pilot and gunner.

As they sailed away, g-force pressing her into her seat, Yar laughed with glee. ”Data-you were born for this! The only man I ever want piloting me in a dogfight.”

”Inquiry: 'dogfight'?”

”One-on-one air battle-I never thought I'd see it outside simulator training! Look! There's Rikan-get around to starboard-take out the flyers homing in on him!”

”Tasha-are you all right?” Data asked.

”Of course I'm all right. We're doing great! Let's get that big one over there-I don't like those torpedo ports.”

”Aim at the thrusters or rudders, please,” said the android. ”There is no need to take lives if-”

”Dammit, Data, they were shooting at us!” Yar told him, annoyed at his lack of enthusiasm. It was too long since she had been in action, and the fact that Nalavia's forces had attacked first made theirs a defensive action. So Starfleet taught that it was a defeat to have to fight at all-well, they had tried to let the Trevans decide for themselves. It wasn't her fault that Nalavia had launched her attack before the drug worked its way out of her people's systems.

The large flyer was aiming a rocket bomb at Rikan's craft-if it hit, it would be the end of the warlord.

Two of Dare's sleek fighters were moving to intercept-Yar could not see if one of them held the Silver Paladin himself.

She and Data swung around to starboard, and a yell of triumph rose in Yar's throat as under Data's inhuman skill they maneuvered as neatly as any craft built for fighting.

The flyer had no inertial control; Yar was thrown against her harness as they rose and whirled, increasing her exhilaration. It was a long time since she had felt such an adrenalin high. She blasted at the craft attempting to reach Rikan's flags.h.i.+p.

Rikan was firing too, as were Dare's flyers, darting about and keeping the gunners too busy to dog Rikan's movements. The warlord's pilot was good, Yar noted peripherally, changing course often to avoid presenting a target.

The radio was open, but it was such a jumble that Yar paid it little attention until slowly a wave of excited exclamations began piercing the tight-voiced orders. ”They're retreating!”

Who was retreating?

The thought was lost in a blast of rocket fire that came close to taking out their windscreen.

Data banked sharply in a groan of protesting metal, and they ducked a rocket sizzling from a different craft.

The radio squawked, ”Ground troops pulling out!”

”We've got 'em running!”

But Yar's attention was on the second heavily-armed flyer trying to beat the small fighter craft off its sister s.h.i.+p so the two could go after Rikan.

”Rikan-pull back!” Dare's voice.

Data whipped around and straight back into the confrontation, but- ”We are losing rudder control,” he said.

At the same moment one of the heavy flyers got a rocket off toward Rikan-homing right on target!

Yar and Data were close enough to see the thrusters blast as the pilot tried to maneuver out of its path, but the flags.h.i.+p did not have the speed of one of the little craft.

The rocket caught the flags.h.i.+p portside, ripping a hole in the fuselage and setting it spinning in a downward spiral.

”Rikan's. .h.i.t!” came Poet's voice on the radio.

Instantly, aircraft converged and a free-for-all erupted, Nalavia's flyers seeking to deal the death blow, Rikan's trying to protect the falling craft.

”Tasha,” Data said, his voice loud enough to carry over the noise of battle but unaffected by tension, ”I have overstressed this craft-two minutes to systems failure.”

”Follow Rikan down!” she instructed, then punched the radio. ”This is Yar. Data and I will follow Rikan and protect him on the ground. Our craft is damaged.”

”Tasha?!” Dare's voice.

”Yes. We're not hurt.”

Data fought the controls as their flyer bucked and yawed, but somehow he kept in sight of the spinning flags.h.i.+p, which finally hit ground, wobbled up onto its side, and crunched through a stand of trees to come to a shuddering halt. He aimed for the path it had cleared, and with sheer android strength held them on course as he set down, hard but safe.

They untangled themselves from their harness, grabbed their weapons, and ran for the flags.h.i.+p.

A military flyer sailed down on a strafing run.

Yar and Data dropped and fired-one of their shots must have hit the power generator, for the flyer exploded, showering them with fiery debris.

Data threw himself over Yar.

A flaming piece struck the android's back, pus.h.i.+ng his full weight down onto Yar. The way he moved, she forgot how heavy he was until times like now, when she thought her ribs would break-and might have, except that he scrambled up at once, throwing the debris aside.

His uniform was on fire!

”Roll!” Yar told him before he had realized it himself.

He didn't question her-must have felt the continuing heat by then-and in seconds the fire was out.

Yar touched him. The material was scorched but, ”It did not harm my skin,” he said.

”You won't object if I check for myself later?”

”No. But now we must get to Rikan.”

Above them, the air battle continued. Yar let Data help her over the broken trees. Data, Worf, Vulcans she worked with-their physical strength was so much greater than hers that objections to such aid were absurd. Her human male colleagues had learned, though, not to offer unless she asked.

By the time they reached the downed flags.h.i.+p, two of its occupants had crawled out-neither one the warlord.

”Where's Rikan?” Yar asked.

”Inside,” said one of the men. ”He is injured, but not mortally. Trell can care for him.”