Far From Home: The Complete Series

by Tony Healey

  “Yeah. Right, I better get down to medical. And you’ve got a ship to run,” Clayton said. He started walking away.

  “Huh?”

  The realisation hit her. With both the Captain and Commander Greene temporarily out of action, she was the next in line. Neither Jackson nor Rogers had the experience, and they weren’t primary bridge crew.

  And talking of bridge…

  A dozen or so crew had arrived to assist. There were repair crew and assorted crew members assisting in any way they could. Chang drew herself to full height, cleared her throat. “Okay everyone listen up! Rogers and Jackson, you come with me to the Emergency Command Centre. The rest of you continue to assist with repairs.”

  They looked at her for a moment. A blast somewhere shook the ship.

  “Now!” Chang yelled, motivating them to do as they were told.

  * * *

  Several fires had broken out through engineering, and the Chief ran from one to the other co-ordinating their frantic efforts to put them out. Klaxons wailed all around her, but she paid them no mind. Thick dark clouds of smoke clung to the tall ceiling of engineering, but it grew steadily thicker by the minute. The atmospheric extractors struggled to clear it.

  “Belcher!” Gunn called. “Gary, come here quick.”

  The Lieutenant busily worked a console in an attempt to ensure the coolant lines didn’t fail. If they did…

  “Chief?”

  Gunn waved him over. He got up and ran to her from the other side of the room. The Chief stood over a fallen crewman. “I need you to get her out of here, Lieutenant. Drag him out to the corridor. Give him some air.”

  Belcher nodded. “And what about you Chief?”

  Gunn had already started walking away. “Hop to it fella.”

  The Lieutenant didn’t argue. He scooped Ensign Benedict up under the armpits and pulled him backwards toward the exit. The doors parted as he drew near, and he found himself breathing relatively smoke-free, cool air again. Belcher propped the crewman against a bulkhead, checked his pulse.

  “Let’s hope nobody thinks you’re a passed-out drunk,” Belcher said as he stepped away. “Sorry to leave you there, Greg, but I gotta get back in there. She needs me.”

  It didn’t matter that Ensign Greg Benedict was completely out for the count. Lieutenant Belcher had already gone back into the carnage of engineering.

  7.

  “Stats and vitals,” Clayton demanded. He listened as Nurse Munoz reeled off the Captain’s vital signs from an overhead monitor. Once finished, Clayton gave a curt nod of his head. He looked around. The sickbay had filled with people for no apparent reason.

  The Doctor became furious. He slammed his data tablet down on the bed next to Jessica. “Don’t you people have better things to do? Get out! Go on!”

  He indicated for Nurse Shook to get them out, then turned back to Captain King’s limp form.

  He regarded her for a moment. She was in no immediate distress, but she was unconscious and very weak. And of course he had to take into consideration her…condition…

  “Frank, get me a neuro scanner. Let’s see what activity we have,” Dr. Clayton said. As Munoz went to fetch it, Clayton walked over to Commander Greene. The two Nurses had done a good job of covering his burns with analgesic gel. It would take an hour or so for it to work fully, but the Commander would heal completely from his dance with fiery death. However, Greene too was out cold; though smoke inhalation and a blow to the head were his reasons. Not a close encounter with the cold, hard, nothingness of space.

  “Well, now they’re all gone…” Nurse Shook said, dusting her hands symbolically down her front.

  The Defiant rocked. Several glass utensils clattered along a desk in the corner and smashed on the floor. Shook went to clear it up straight away but Clayton laid a hand on her arm to still her.

  “Leave it for a minute. There’ll be more of that,” he said.

  Nurse Shook gave Commander Greene the once over. “D’you think he’ll wake up, Doctor?”

  Clayton sighed. “Yep. He’ll have one helluva headache though. I don’t know what it is with that man hitting his goddamn head every other day. I’ve treated him more times for head injuries than -“

  Nurse Munoz arrived with the neuro scanner.

  “Here we are Doctor,” Munoz said.

  Clayton took the device, in reality little more than just a thick band of metal. The moment it was fixed in the correct position around Jessica’s head, its readings of her brain’s electrical activity appeared on the overhead.

  “Is it a coma?” Munoz asked him.

  Clayton watched the data for a moment. Then he shook his head. “No. I don’t think so. She’s just shocked I think. It might take her a while to come around. I saw something like this during my service. A guy had shock from exposure. Took him a couple of weeks to wake up.”

  There were treatments for those who braved the void for only a handful of seconds, but of course the Captain had had more than that …

  On the bed, Jessica breathed slowly. But other than the steady rise and fall of her chest, she lay perfectly still.

  “Okay. The oxygen levels in her blood are low. Nurse Shook, I think you can do something about that. Frank, put that thing on the Commander over there and monitor his readings for a couple of minutes. The amount of knocks he’s had to the noggin, I’d like to just double check there’s no permanent damage.”

  His two Nurses busied themselves with his instructions, and Clayton stood watching the Captain’s vitals on the screen.

  Come on Jessica, he thought. Fight.

  * * *

  The Emergency Command Centre was smaller than they were used to on the bridge, but they wasted no time in getting to their respective stations. Lieutenant Rogers took to the helm, with Jackson standing at a station to his right. Lisa Chang stood. There was only one seat in the Emergency Command Centre, and that was reserved for the pilot. For everyone else, there were handholds laid into the ceiling, amongst the jutting pipes and wires.

  “Redirect all functions,” Chang said. She walked to the communications station, to the left-hand side of the helm, and opened the intercom to the rest of the ship. “Ensign Beaumont, report to the Emergency Command Centre,” Chang said.

  She closed the channel, then helped Jackson and Rogers in switching the Defiant’s main functions over. Every console lit up. The viewscreen at the front came to life, revealing a Naxor ship before them with two smaller Krinuan vessels attacking it. They seemed to be keeping the Naxor monster at bay whilst the Defiant hung uselessly in space, crippled within and without.

  Ensign Roland Beaumont arrived, flushed and sweaty.

  “Get to the communications station, Ensign. Make contact with our Krinuan friends and tell them we’re attempting to get this tub back online,” Chang ordered. She was surprised at how naturally it came to her. Especially following the loss she’d had to experience and tuck away like a secret piece of paper. While the other three busied themselves, she managed to look away and close her eyes, for only a second. In that infinitely small gap of time, she saw Olivia Rayne tumble out into space again, her eyes wide with terror as it took her.

  Chang opened her eyes.

  Beaumont listened through his earpiece, then turned to her. “The Krinuans say we have enemy vessels on our hull.”

  “On it?”

  “That’s what they say. Clamped to it,” Beaumont explained.

  “Shipwide communications, Ensign,” Chang ordered. A moment later the channel was ready to use. “Captain Nowlan, this is acting Captain Chang. Please contact the Emergency Command Centre. Urgent.”

  The words acting Captain had a strange feel to them. They sounded foreign on her tongue. Dirty somehow.

  It’s because they’re not earned, she thought. That’s why.

  “We have full control over all of the Defiant’s systems,” Jackson said. “Including weapons.”

  “How is the hull holding up?” Chang asked.


  “Might as well be bare skin at the minute, Ma’am,” Jackson told her. “No energy shield or hull plating.”

  “But we can fire?” Chang asked.

  Jackson nodded.

  “Then do your worst,” Chang said. “Hit them with everything.”

  8.

  Master At Arms Eisenhower listened to the knocking on the other side of the outer hull and knew what was coming. He’d been on a ship in the throes of getting boarded once before. The sound of one ship butting up against another was unmistakable. He moved as fast as his old legs would take him to the weapons lockers and threw them open.

  He could’ve sworn he’d stowed it in there…

  With a smile his hand fell on the old Hunter X Scatter Shot. He flipped it up, and activated it. The old shotgun came to life in his hands. Eisenhower grabbed a sonic grenade and tucked it in his pocket.

  Now there was a fiery circle on the wall where they cut through. The Master At Arms double-checked the weapon.

  “Let’s hope she still shoots true,” he said with a nervous chuckle.

  He took a step back as a shower of sparks fell around him from the wall. Then the circle of metal hull fell to the deck with an almighty clank that rang out like a bell in a cave. Eisenhower peered through the smoke. A uniformed creature emerged from the newly cut hole. Eisenhower lifted the Scatter Shot, gritted his teeth, and fired. A splatter of energy bolts sent the creature flying back down into the hole. Within seconds another tried to set foot on the deck of the hangar.

  Eisenhower shot again. This time the alien wasn’t blown away. The force of the old Scatter Shot blew the thing’s head off, leaving a mushy stump at what he took to be the neck. The dead alien blocked the hole. A clawed hand reached up from behind the creature, and pulled it backwards. Its cold glare pierced at the Master At Arms.

  Oh lord, Eisenhower thought as he fired and blew the thing away.

  The Scatter Shot grew hot in his hands.

  Still they came, one after the other, and he shot them down. The old weapon became hotter and hotter.

  Should’ve picked something else, he thought. What was I thinking?

  Sure enough, Eisenhower shot one more alien attempting to board the Defiant, then the gun died on him. The corpse of the previous Naxor was yanked out of the way as its comrade pulled it aside and clambered onto the deck. The Master At Arms backed up.

  “Watch it sonny!” he stammered.

  The alien approached, regarding him with twitching eyes on long stems. It’s mouth quivered, revealing short but sharp teeth. Saliva - or the Naxor equivalent - hung from its chin. The thing raised its weapon. Eisenhower raised a hand and turned away.

  He heard something travel through the air over him and looked up just in time to see Captain Hawk Nowlan whistle down in front of him. The legendary hero landed sure-footed on the deck. In his hand he carried his famous kataan. The Naxor cocked its head to one side with surprise.

  “Not on my watch pal,” Hawk said and swung his blade. It sliced the two appendages holding the weapon. The Naxor gasped. Hawk sliced up, under its chin and it fell backward in a spray of yellow body fluids.

  He turned to Eisenhower. “Yuh okay? They asked me to get down here, see what was goin down.”

  The Master At Arms’ eyes widened. He pointed back at the hole in the wall. “Behind you!”

  Hawk spun about in time to see another Naxor clamber through the temporary artery they’d tunnelled from their ship to the Defiant. He ran toward it, and as it looked up, he slammed his kataan through its head. The Naxor convulsed then fell still. A river of yellow blood ran to the decking.

  “Call the alarm!” Hawk yelled back. He pulled his sword free. “And get yuhself somethin’ to shoot that ain’t as ancient as I am!”

  Eisenhower threw the spent Scatter Shot to one side and moved as fast as his legs could take him.

  * * *

  They fought alongside each other, Human and Krinuan. Lieutenant Chang flinched as one of their Krinuan allies took a full hit to its dorsal section and broke out into small explosions.

  “Report on that ship!” she yelled. Unlike the bridge, all tactical functions and data were routed through to the weapons station.

  “Dead in the water,” Jackson reported. “They’re launching escape pods.”

  “Contact them if you can. They can dock with us.”

  “Aye,” Jackson said.

  They’d now gotten clear of the more lethal debris, but that didn’t stop the Defiant taking a pounding from smaller pieces of rock and shattered hull. She’d never known the ship take such a beating, and secretly she wondered if they’d ever manage to get out of this alive.

  Straight ahead was a larger Naxor vessel, identical to the one that had attacked before when they were crossing the nebula. It had two smaller ships with it. There were also two of the same, smaller ships clamped to their side.

  “Engine manifolds straining against the weight of those ships,” Rogers said from the helm. “I’m having a hard time getting any more of out her with them piggybacking on us.”

  They’re like leeches you get from crossing a swamp, Chang thought.

  “The Master At Arms is on the line,” Beaumont reported. “He’s calling for help down there.”

  “Go ship wide,” Chang ordered. “Put a call out for every available hand to get to the hangar deck and assist.”

  “Aye.”

  Chang turned to the viewscreen. “Then I want you to contact Praror…tell him he needs to focus on the smaller ships. We’ll tackle the bigger of the three.”

  “Aye,” Beaumont said.

  “I’d advise trying to get out of here,” Rogers said.

  The Defiant shuddered from a direct hit. The lighting flickered, nearly died, then came back to full strength.

  “There’s no way they’re gonna let us just up and leave the party,” Chang told him. “We have to face it down. We don’t have a choice. As much as I’d like to just retreat, we don’t have the luxury of making that call.”

  “Fair enough,” Rogers said. He took the Defiant to avoid a nasty barrage of fire from the big enemy vessel.

  “Praror agrees with your plan. He wishes us luck,” Beaumont said.

  Chang nodded. “Share the sentiment.”

  “So what’s the plan?” Rogers asked her.

  The Lieutenant had given it some thought. The first notion of it had occurred before the bridge had been compromised. Now, from what she’d seen of the big Naxor warship, her gut told her she should go with it.

  For a split second she saw Ensign Rayne go flying backwards into space. Her eyes…she knew those eyes would haunt her forever.

  Chang swallowed, snapped back to reality. She drew a deep breath and relayed her plan.

  * * *

  Gary Belcher grabbed a mask from a unit on the wall. Chief Gunn took it from him and wrapped it over her face. The air in the engineering section had now grown toxic. The mask would protect their eyes and filter the air as they worked to ensure they didn’t pass out.

  “Thanks,” Gunn said. She dripped perspiration, and her eyes were bright red.

  “Those coolant lines are failing,” Belcher told her. “There’s only one thing I can think of.”

  Gunn shook her head. She knew what he was driving at. “We can’t. The Defiant will lose power and we’ll be like a sitting duck.”

  “Not if we can reroute emergency power from every system and feed it to engines and weapons only,” Belcher offered, his voice excited.

  The Chief walked to the coolant controls and studied the readouts. Belcher was right. They were going to fail. If they did, and the reactor started to overheat…

  Game over.

  “The trick will be to get everything back up and running in time,” Gunn said. “We need to be sure.”

  Belcher looked around. “To be honest Chief, I don’t think we got much choice.”

  “Okay. Well here’s what we’ll do. You get a team together and get everything rerouted t
o engines and weapons. I’ll notify the con what we’re doing, then set about shutting everything down,” she said. “We’ll have to evacuate it in here, and vent the atmosphere out into space, then re-establish. It’s the only way to get breathable air in here in time. We can’t work in these goddamn masks.”

  “I’m on it,” Belcher said. He turned to go and get some people together.

  “Gary!” the Chief called after him. He spun about. “Good work.”

  Belcher grinned, then ran off.

  Gunn contacted the Emergency Command Centre and spoke directly with Lieutenant Chang.

  “Any word on the Captain yet?”

  “No nothing.”

  Gunn didn’t ask about Commander Greene. She knew better than to fret over it. What would be would be. There was a bigger problem to worry over, such as a wounded starship blowing up.

  She told Chang the plan she and Belcher had devised.

  “And we’ll still be able to run and shoot?” Chang asked.

  Gunn laughed behind her plastic mask. “Yeah. Run and shoot.”

  “Do what you have to do, Chief. Best of luck.”

  Gunn walked to the other side of the engineering section to begin the shutdown procedure. It wouldn’t take long for Belcher and the others to ensure the engines and defensive systems still had power. And shutting everything down wasn’t the problem.

  The issue would be when it came to dealing with the coolant and switching everything back on.

  Good thing that turning things on is a specialty of mine, the Chief thought with a snigger.

  * * *

  “The other hole!” Hawk yelled over to Eisenhower. The Master At Arms turned on his heels.

  The hangar swarmed with Naxor. Hawk grappled with one. The way its jaws kept snapping it looked to Eisenhower as if it were trying to bite him.

  The Krinuan survivors who’d landed in the hangar also joined in the fight. Those who weren’t locked into close quarters with the Naxor were on the other side, firing back at a group of Naxor soldiers armed with big heavy guns. The Krinuan refugees used cargo crates as cover, the Naxors’ fire making holes in the crates the size of dinner plates.