Star Trek: The Next Generation: Starfleet Academy #6: Mystery of the Missing Crew by Michael Jan Friedman

Author:Michael Jan Friedman
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
ISBN: 0671501089
Publisher: Minstrel Paperback
Published: 1995-01-02T23:00:00+00:00

Data had only a fraction of a second to make all these observations before one of the thing’s arms swiveled and sent a seething barrage of crimson energy in his direction. Making use of his android reflexes, he pulled his head back around the corner—narrowly avoiding the blast, which charred and bubbled the tough duranium bulkhead behind him.

Sinna gripped him by his shoulder and looked up into his eyes. “Are you all right?” she asked, her voice shrill with concern for him.

Data nodded. “I am unharmed,” he told her. “However, that may change if we do not retreat—and quickly.”

Taking the Yanna by the hand, the android raced back down the corridor the way they had come. He could hear the artificial intruder giving pursuit, its feet making loud clicking sounds as it came after them.

Judging from the frequency of the sounds and his estimate of the thing’s stride, Data decided that it was nearly as fast as he was. His conclusion was borne out by a glance back over his shoulder—which told him that if he didn’t duck in less than a second, both he and Sinna would be blackened husks.

Darting sideways and pulling his companion after him, the android saw another of the invader’s energy beams flash down the corridor and strike the bulkhead at the end of it. As before, it left a blistered, black spot on the duranium surface.

Careening the other way, Data avoided yet another deadly beam, which seared a second spot on the distant bulkhead. Then, spying a turn in the corridor just ahead, he headed for it. Sinna kept up as best she could.

“We can’t just keep running,” she told him, her voice taut with fear. “Eventually, it’ll catch up with us.”

“I agree,” said the android. “We need to go on the offensive.”

But how? They had neither phasers nor anything else that might be used as a weapon. They would have to find something that was not designed to be a weapon, then—and use it to suit their purpose.

Abruptly a plan formed in Data’s positronic brain. If they had access to a transporter room, they might be able to beam the alien constructs out into space.

“Bridge,” he called out as he ran, “I need to reach the nearest transporter room. Can you tell me where it is? And where the other invaders are, so we may avoid them?”

This time Lagon’s answer was almost instantaneous. “Heading for a transporter room isn’t a good idea. All three of them are occupied by the—did you call them invaders? Does that mean they’re alive after all?”

“Yes,” said Data. “They are alive." At least, by his standards.

And there was no time for a more elaborate response, with the construct still chasing them. Apparently, the aliens had anticipated his transporter idea and deployed their forces to preclude it.

As if to remind the android of his peril, the thing in pursuit of them turned a corner and prepared to take another shot. Noting this with a backward glance, Data resorted again to a zigzag course.

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