Brim worked the controls delicately, attempting to get everything he could out of the ship's little gravity generator before it failed—which it would clearly do some time in the near future. Judging by the sounds coming from behind the rear cabin bulkhead, one, or more likely both, spin rotors on the primary thrust unit (which were also used in braking during landfall operations) had lost magnetic bearing units, and were now thumping and hammering dreadfully each time he changed the power setting. Inside, the cramped flight bridge looked as if it were victim of some disastrous fire, courtesy of their reentry heat, which Brim had—only just—managed to keep within the parameters of Imperial battlesuit cooling units.
Raging flames that blasted through the empty Hyperscreen frames had been enough to melt and char nearly every item of organic origin. "A xaxt of a way to treat an Emperor, by Voot!" Onrad had chuckled at the height of the inferno. He'd been joshing, of course, but Brim agreed with him anyway. It was a xaxt of a way to treat a Carescrian, too.
"Hey, look at that!" Aram exclaimed, his voice scratchy on the voice circuit because much of the insulation had been burned from its exposed connectors, "Down there, about a c'lenyt off to starboard."
Brim forced his attention from the ship for a moment to a majestic hill rising green from the darker colors of the forest. Crowning its summit was a tiny village surrounded by an ancient stone wall and lighted by the fading twilight. It dominated the surrounding countryside like some great tanwahr's eyrie.
As they glided closer, they could see the outline of a Gradygroat abbey that looked as if it had been built at least five centuries before the galaxy formed. Beyond, not more than another ten or fifteen c'lenyts, a small lake reflected the night sky from what appeared to be a heavily forested valley. Lowering the nose judiciously, he pulled back on the gravs to hush their passage, then took a deep breath. "I'm going to put us down on that lake ahead," he said while the grav renewed its frantic thumping.
"Sounds like the decision wasn't all yours," Aram chuckled grimly.
"The ship did have a big vote in it," Brim admitted.
At that moment, the grav gave a last, convulsive shudder and went quiet.
"I think it's changed its vote," Aram observed in the abrupt silence.
"WON-der-ful," Brim grumbled. "Just thraggling WON-der-ful," He ground his teeth. Without its grav, the HSTS could still outglide a brick, but not by much. He could pretty well estimate their point of impact by momentum alone—but it was dark down there—except for lightning flashes from the storm they'd passed.
"Oh, great!" Beyazh swore. "Look off to starboard. If that isn't a Leaguer base, I'll eat my helmet. The lights are just now coming on."
"Don't ruin your teeth, friend," Onrad said quietly. "Nobody'll take your bet. Those are Zachtwagers parked along the taxiways."
Brim had only a moment's glance to confirm their verdict— that was all he needed to get the essential message. "So much for sneaking onto this bloody planet," he groused. "Everybody within a hundred c'lenyts must have heard the gravs go."
"They didn't have to," Beyazh said. "We've clearly set off every proximity alarm on the base by now."
" If they hadn't got enough warning already from those two Gorn-Hoffs we gonged," Aram added.
"Pull your straps tight as you can make 'em, everybody," Brim cautioned, snugging down his own recliner belts until they hurt. "And set your battlesuits for minimum freedom," he added with a twinge of envy. He couldn't protect himself the same way. He had to keep his own suit flexible so he could fly the ship.
"Got you," Onrad said stolidly.
The others only grunted.
All that remained now was the steering engine. Brim would use that at the moment of impact in a final, desperate effort to soften their crash. And the forest itself—for they were heading rapidly into a lofty stand of gigantic trees. Just before impact, he switched on the landing lights and desperately picked two stout oaklike dicotyledons that looked as if they were just slightly farther apart than the width of their hull. If he could steer between them, the stout-looking disruptor winglets on either side would be ripped from their mountings, taking a lot of energy with them before the main hull hit anything more solid than brush. "Here it comes!" he warned and snapped off the lights.
After that, things happened much too quickly for anything but raw reflexes. The trees flashed past in a blur against the last vestiges of twilight, then in one terrible moment of concussion and noise, the whole Universe seemed to go wild in blinding sparks as the disrupter mountings tore free against the trees. Brim stood on the starboard rudder and for the slightest fraction of a moment he heard the steering engine whine. The ship skidded sideways in a cloud of broken branches and debris from the forest floor, sheering off trees as if it were some sort of forestry harvester. In the final moment, all he could see directly in their path was the biggest, thickest tree his benumbed mind could recall. He fumbled for the freedom control on his battlesuit, swiped it toward minimum at the same moment that unbelievable concussion brought a personal galaxy of bright flashes to his closed eyes... followed by soothing darkness that swept all other sensation in its merciful path....
Onrad's voice seemed to be coming from somewhere a long distance away.... "I think the poor bastard's still alive...."
"Your Majesty?" Brim groaned.
"Wilf...?"
"Yeah."
Stretched out uncomfortably on his back, the Carescrian could just pick out three figures bending over him in the darkness. His helmet was open and the cool, damp smell of the forest was strong in his nostrils. Distant lightning flashed fitfully, its distance-muffled thunder arriving only after a long delay. Yeah, he thought. The forest.... He'd survived the crash after all.
"Thraggling miracle you're still with us," Beyazh said. "You must have stiffened your battlesuit at the last possible click, otherwise you'd be smashed to jelly."
"Anything feel broken, Wilf?" Aram asked.
Brim spent a few moments moving various parts of his body. Everything felt sore, but... "I think I'm all right," he said tentatively.
"Can you get up?" Onrad asked.
"That's what I'm going to try next," Brim said, rolling over onto his stomach. Carefully, he drew his knees beneath him. So far, so good. Next he pushed his trunk and head erect to a kneeling position and turned his head this way and that. What remained of the HSTS lay in a dark, crumpled heap some twenty irals distant against the darker bulk of the giant tree.
"How's everything feel?" Beyazh asked.
"Like somebody once said," Brim quipped as he pushed himself arduously to his feet. " 'A little pain never hurt anybody.' But I have just redefined the term 'sore.' "
"And?" Onrad demanded as lightning flashed through the trees again.
Brim limped a few highly experimental steps while the muted thunder came again, "I tkink I'm all right," he said in real amazement.
"Thank Voot for that," Onrad swore. "We've got to get moving. These woods will be alive with Leaguers at dawn."
"All right," Brim agreed tentatively, "but to where?"
"Well," Onrad said grimly, "I've been thinking about finding our way to that hilltop village we saw back there."
"There's also a Leaguer base in the same general direction," Aram reminded him over more thunder.
"I know," Onrad said. "But you're going to take care of both problems for us."
"Me?" Aram asked, then groaned with the same breath. "Of course!" he snorted. "I've been spending so much time in space that I hardly think of flying by myself anymore."