“Watch me!” the cocky young pilot replied.
With warning from the shuttlepod’s sensors, Ortega was able to evade the incoming fire while still maintaining course toward the mountains. The next few minutes were a harrowing ride through a sky made hazy by a mix of volcanic dust and artillery smoke, and even the highly disciplined members of Kimura’s security team—Crewmen Ian Legatt, Sascha Money, and Marie Chiang—were looking a bit airsick by the time they finally closed in on their target.
The tricky part was holding position long enough to gather useful sensor data from the target vessel’s landing site without getting blown out of the sky. Ortega brought the shuttlepod in low through the craggy peaks, navigating them like an obstacle course, taking advantage of their refractory minerals to obscure the shuttlepod from the Kalar’s sensors. The barrage continued, but fewer of the explosions came near enough to rattle the shuttlepod. The philosopher in Kimura appreciated seeing a disadvantage thus turned to their advantage.
Finally, they closed in on the cleft where the Rigelian skiff was ensconced. “Scan for biosigns,” Kimura ordered.
In the seat behind Ortega’s right shoulder, Crewman Legatt worked the sensor controls on the swing-out console before him. But Ortega had to veer to starboard to evade another artillery shell; with the pod holding station, the Kalar were starting to find their range again. “I need you to hold it steady, sir,” Legatt said.
“Tell them that!” Ortega told the grayshirt.
Kimura had years of experience and discipline, first as a MACO and now as Starfleet Security, and was well accustomed to facing danger calmly and accepting the reality that there were some risks he could do nothing to prevent. Still, deliberately sitting still in the middle of a shooting gallery was not particularly conducive to his peace of mind.
“Sir,” Legatt reported, “confirming the ship is not intact. Underside’s caved in, multiple hull breaches, debris. No way this was a controlled landing.” The red-haired Scot looked up at him. “Best guess, they were aiming for the cleft to give them cover, but their luck ran out a few moments too soon.”
Let’s hope history doesn’t repeat itself, Kimura thought. “Any biosigns?”
Legatt shook his head. “None, sir, either in the ship or nearby. But I’m reading organic decay markers from within, and penetrating radar gives a density profile consistent—”
Ortega veered to avoid another shell. “High points, please?”
“Two bodies. Vulcanoid biochemistry.”
“That means Zami,” Kimura said. Another explosion rattled the hull. “Our people aren’t here.”
“But they could’ve been before,” Legatt said. “We should try to recover their data banks.”
“If we try landing,” Money countered, “I doubt the Kalar would let us take off again.”
“She’s right,” Kimura said. “And this planet’s too far off the beaten track—they wouldn’t have had a chance to transfer them off. This was a decoy.” He turned to Ortega. “So get us out of here, best speed.”
Ortega was pulling back on the joystick before Kimura finished the sentence. “Just what I’ve been waiting to—”
Just then, an alarm sounded. “What is it?” Kimura asked.
“We’ve lost sensors!” said Ortega.
Legatt worked his controls. “Some kind of jamming field, sir! Must be from the Kalar.”
Kimura’s eyes lifted to the pod’s domed windshield, beyond which the artillery barrage continued unabated. “That means . . .”
“That means no more warnings,” Ortega said. “Everybody, eyes out the windows! Call out any incoming you spot!”
Money and Chiang promptly directed their gaze out the side ports. But Kimura said, “You just point this thing up and floor it. The sooner we get out of here—” He broke off before he jinxed it.
Too late; it seemed cosmic perversity was in abundant supply on Rigel VII as much as anywhere else in the universe. No sooner had the words left Kimura’s mouth than the shuttlepod rocked from an impact. The pod swerved downward, rocky crags filling the viewport. Ortega struggled with the controls. “They hit our wing!”
“Try to aim for someplace flat.”
“Do you have a suggestion?” Ortega replied. “Because I’m not seeing a lot of options, sir.”
“Legatt, hail Endeavour. Try to punch through the jamming, get that data to them.” At least then the mission would be a success, technically. If they didn’t survive the crash, at least it would mean something.