Whittaker whirled and fired as Pateman flung a loose

cargo can directly at him. The can was vaporised in mid-

air but Pateman had already dived back into cover.

Larssen was already moving forward when Whittaker

swung back towards her and she made a duck-and-swerve

turn left to get the loader between her and Whittaker.

Something popped in her left knee and she went down

hard enough to knock the wind out of her. ~ Never been

right since Ser Etta,~ she thought, ~really should have put

more effort into those rehab exercises.~ Whittaker was

right behind her with the phaser -

~ Roll, roll, roll! shouted Sulu, chasing them across the

gym floor, Come on, don't think, don't stop, move move

move! and a baker's dozen of crew members flung

themselves towards whatever cover they could find. Roll!

Roll! ~

Larssen rolled despite the pain in her leg, thanking Ifni for

Lieutenant Commander Sulu and his pop tests of What-

Cover-Is-That. Her mental map told her that ten feet to

her right was a stack of cargo cans over turned by the wind

in the decompression and she flung herself behind them.

A phaser blast just missed her and she drove herself

forward with her right leg and when the left buckled under

her she somersaulted into the deeper cover of the shadows

behind a docking platform.

Whittaker didn't come after her. She heard him muttering

to himself as he cast around for a few moments, and then

turned and strode away. Larssen heard the exit open, and

peeked around the platform to catch a glimpse of him as

he headed up the corridor and towards the heart of the

starbase.

"Art right, lass?" Pateman had come up unheard behind

her and Larssen jumped.

"Done my knee." she said, trying to stand. Pateman

heaved her to her feet. "Sir, the Captain and Commander

Spock are somewhere towards the station core. All other

Starfleet personnel accounted for alive or dead, all

survivors escaped on the shuttles. Commander Spock has

established a, um, mental link I guess, with the creature

that caused all this and he got it off our backs to leave but

he had to stay behind. They've come up with a way to

destroy it but it involved destroying the Starbase." She

leaned on the docking platform and flexed her injured leg.

Pateman studied her. "Thou al'us did give a good report."

he said approvingly. "Nice'n clear, all the whatchcallums,

'salient points' covered."

"Thank you, sir." Larssen said mildly. "I think I can walk,

sir."

"I think thou canst get on the shuttle and head on back to

thy ship." Pateman said.

"I don't think the Enterprise shuttle will ever fly again, sir,

and I can't repair it. If I take the other that leaves you and

my captain and Commander Spock on here with no way

off and besides, my pilot's license is only third class."

"Well, there's a problem." Pateman said. He looked

pensively towards the exit, rubbing his unshaven chin with

one hand and scratching a massive buttock with the

other. "I have a strong feeling that yon fuckwit has gone

to interfere with thy captain and his first officer, and I

have a strong feeling tha' none of us will like what

happens if he's successful. Dost have a sidearm?"

"No. There was an unfortunate incident involving

spontaneous overloads." Larssen said.

"So the madman's t' only one armed. I feel like I'm in a

tactical training session at t' Academy." Pateman said. "T'

one tha's supposed to end like the Kobayashi Maru." He

squinted at her. "I'm off after Whittaker. I can't order thee,

lass."

"Actually, sir, you can, under General Order-"

"I rue the damn day we started drilling cadets in General

Orders." Pateman said. "It's no gods-be fun commanding

a bevy of teenagers who know more abou' the legalities of

the situation than me. I'm not *goan'* t'order thee, then. I'd

suggest waiting by the shuttles, if thou hast a mind to take

advice from one older an' wiser an' more rat-cunning than

thee."

"And if I didn't?"

"I have a whelk's chance in a supernova of stoppin' tha'

bastard, lass. It'd help thy captain if he knew wha' was

after him. Anyone travelling by the Jeffries tubes could cut

straight across this whole section and get ahead of

Whittaker."

"Are you sure?"

"I built the fucker." Pateman said. "If I weren't so fond of a

cooked breakfast, lass, I'd go tha' way meself."

"Let's go." Larssen said. "Show me the access hatch and

tell me which turns to take."

Pateman clapped her on the shoulder. "Tha's the spirit that

made Starfleet great, lass!"

"Despairing resignation to the inevitable?" Larssen asked,

limping towards the exit beside him.

He laughed, showing her most of his impressive teeth.

"Naow, thou hast been payin' too much attention to thy

Uncle Harry, lass. I meant bravery, courage, derrin' do,

like."

"Given how much I *hate* crawl-ways," Larssen said, "I

suspect despairing resignation to the inevitable is more

accurate."

The reached the hatch and Pateman made a stirrup of his

hands to boost Larssen up to the ceiling. She pushed the

hatch aside and hauled herself into the crawl-way.

"Good luck, lass." he called.

"And to you." Larssen said. She wanted to say something

to him about how grateful she was to him, about how

much he'd taught her, about what she owed him, but such

sentimentality was hardly the sort of thing Pateman

encouraged. ~He'll laugh,~ she thought, ~he'll think I'm a

soppy fool.~ She cringed with anticipatory embarrassment,

resolved to say nothing, and then gave herself a mental

slap across the face.

~For Ifni's sake, Cory, the both of you are likely going to die

and you worry about embarrassing yourself? If by some

miracle you get out of here alive I doubt a bit of

embarrassment is much going to ruin the moment! ~

She stuck her head down again as Pateman was turning

away.

"Sir," she said, "I just wanted to say, you know, I'm not sure

how to phrase it, but-"

"I knoaw what thou wanst to say, lass." Pateman said. He

looked serious for a moment, and then his face cracked in

a huge grin. "Thoust harboured a secret passion for me

since thy Academy days, aye? I canst blame thee, lass, if I

say so meself. But it'd never work, there's too many years

between us, so just put it out of thy mind. Not tha' I'm not

flattered, lass." His eyes twinkled shrewdly.

"Yes, sir." Larssen said, smiling back through sudden

tears. ~You don't fool me, Fat Harry,~ her smile said.

"Thank you, sir."

"Thank *you*, lass." He turned and lumbered away.

Larssen shoved herself back up into the access tunnel, and

started crawling. Her arms and legs ached with every

movement, sweat ran into her eyes and her hair regularly

obscured her view.

And yet, absurdly, her heart sang.