Far From Home: The Complete Third Series (Far From Home 16-19) (Far From Home Box Set Book 3)

by Tony Healey

  "That's it. A few degrees to port. Level her out. Watch that big rock on the right. Proximity alarm, you need to drift a bit, give it a wide berth . . ." he told the Ensign, guiding her as to how he would handle the Intrepid. For her part, Gordon did as she was told. She followed every instruction, eager to learn the ropes and master the helm controls as her mentor had. But Chang could see the young pilot was growing steadily impatient with being micromanaged – especially when she had an entire ship to control.

  "Kyle, perhaps you should let the Ensign fly the ship. I might need you at the tactical station," Chang said.

  He turned to look at her, was about to say something, and thought better of it. "Yeah, you're right," he said and made his way to tactical. It was all Chang could do to suppress a smile. She remembered how he'd been aboard the Defiant, and it only served to make her feel that much more displaced from what had seemed good times. Now, here they were, facing down the Namar, on their own. One ship against a mobile battle fleet. At least until some of the Union fleet arrived to support their efforts.

  "Approaching the Amarax," Gentry reported. "Ten seconds until we're in communication range."

  "Thank you Doctor. Banks, go to red alert."

  "Red alert, aye," he said, sliding the controls to one side. The lights dimmed to that familiar shade of red that was almost blood, almost wine – so dim it was hardly any kind of light at all. "Laser canons charged. Torpedoes primed and in the tubes."

  "Energy shield?" Chang asked as another object burned up upon impact with it, accompanied by a flash of light. "We've taken a steady pounding from these things. How's it holding up?"

  "Ninety-seven percent," Banks said.

  Oriz glanced over her shoulder. "Captain shall I attempt a comm. link? We're in range now."

  "Do," Chang said. "Establish the link but don't transmit anything yet."

  "Aye,"

  Gordon turned the Intrepid to bring her alongside the inner ring of debris, directly parallel to the Amarax's position. The sun glared around the edges of the giant black cylinder. The latticed cobweb structure to the side of it looked different thanit had when Chip called it in. It had changed, somehow. "I hope you're getting a good reading of whatever that is," Chang told Gentry.

  The Doctor looked up. "It is quite fascinating. An exact hexagon on the outside. The black lattice within is completely symmetrical in design. This is not a thing of nature, Captain. Even a spider's web is imperfect. This is an artificial construct."

  "On that I concur, Doctor," Chang said. She stepped up to this station and looked at his readings for herself. "See that?"

  He nodded. "Yes. The energy readings are increasing. I theorise it is drawing energy directly from the sun. Capturing it and building a charge."

  "Like any good battery . . ."

  "Yes!"

  Chang turned to look at the forward viewscreen, biting her bottom lip. There was no doubt they'd been monitored as they approached. No doubt that they were being observed.

  "Do you think that's what they were coming here for? That it was left behind for them?"

  "Quite possibly. I do not see how it could have been constructed in so short a time."

  Chang returned to the Captain's chair. "Dana, anything on the comm?"

  "We have a connection, but nothing from them so far."

  "Send a standard greeting. Tell them who we are and that we mean no hostile intent. Set it to repeat until they answer."

  Banks tensed. He looked over his shoulder at her, his eyes widened. "We may not have to wait too long for their response . . ."

  Chang looked at the forward viewscreen. The Amarax opened in front of them, as it had when the Defiant had confronted Cessqa and entered into battle with her. It opened until it was not one cylinder, but three, held to one another by a long spine, an axle upon which all three rotated. A dozen fighters emerged from the central cylinder, followed by two larger ships similar in design to those Chang had seen before.

  "Here they come," she said. She buckled herself in. "Everyone, prepare for battle."

  * * *

  Cessqa watched her ships depart to engage the human vessel, then turned her attention to the Array. For as long as she had slept, waiting to be woken, waiting to continue the work of her people, the Array had rested undisturbed in a long-forgotten star system. Hidden within the dark recesses of the Chimera Cluster, it was the key to the resurrection of the Namar – long since consigned to the shadows of the past.

  Her people had mastered the various facets of building starships. The Amarax itself stood testament to their ingenuity in that regard. Their mastery of the sciences had helped to prolong the lives of the Namar with biomechanical enhancements, building a stronger race. Generations of cold, clinical genetic manipulation and, as with any significantly advanced civilisation, they began to consider the workings of time. To prevent death entirely lay beyond even their abilities, but the mastering of time . . . that was a different matter.

  Cessqa monitored her people, stalking back and forth behind them as they worked to bring the Array online.

  Throughout the galaxy, there were various relics of a bygone era – a time before intelligence when a race of titans roamed the stars – monolithic relics left in their wake, untouched by the ravages of time. The Namar documented and gained access to countless numbers of such relics. The explorers had not succeeded in unlocking all of the secrets these relics held, but had been able to determine that the ancient tech could be used to manipulate time. However it could only be used to travel to the past. Forward movement through the timeline proved impossible, despite their attempts to achieve it.

  The Array was the result of years spent studying the relics of that ancient race. By trapping the energies of the sun, drawing it as a mosquito draws blood from a host, the Array would allow a pathway through the interstices of space-time itself – a conduit to the past. The ghosts of the Namar would live again.

  In the present.

  She watched her ships race toward the human intruder. "How long until the Array is ready?" she asked her people.

  "Six days to produce a stable conduit."

  She grimaced. Six days. It was too long. She had not counted on the humans' ability to track the Amarax. Still, it was of no matter. They would find the time. After all, time would solve all of their problems. And what could one ship possibly do to stop her?

  2.

  "Patch me through to them. Hopefully she'll hear me and we can put an end to this before it goes too far," Chang told Dana.

  The Lieutenant did as she was told. She shook her head as her attempts proved futile. "They're blocking us."

  Chang chewed the side of her mouth. "Put me on intership audio. I want everyone aboard to hear."

  "You're on."

  "This is the Captain. We are under imminent attack from the Namar. I want every available pilot to get to their fighters. Squadron Commanders to follow protocol in assigning duties. All other key personnel, man your stations. Captain out."

  "Incoming fighters in thirty seconds," Banks said. "Shall I increase power to shields? I can divert from–"

  "No. Not yet. We might need that option later. Get ready to give them a wide burst on my command."

  On the viewscreen, the fighters swarmed ahead of the two larger ships.

  All the while you're getting what you want, aren't you? Chang thought. You're keeping us occupied. Not allowing us to interfere with what you're doing.

  She looked at the web of black material, and the Amarax next to it. Her thoughts turned to the bomb she'd asked the Chief to put together for her.

  As soon as I have a chance . . .

  "Ten seconds."

  "Fire!"

  The laser canons ranged along the Intrepid's hull unleashed their fury against the Namar fighters – short bursts of volatile energy that peppered the immediate space between them. One fighter was torn instantly apart. Another collided with the resultant debris and spun away, damaged and without power. The majority mad
e it through, firing their weapons at the Intrepid. She trembled from the hits to her shields.

  "Damage report."

  "Negligible," Gentry announced. "Shields are holding."

  The two larger vessels came at them like black arrows. They broke left and right, firing beams of energy that lanced out and sizzled against the Intrepid's shielding. Chang narrowed her eyes against the glare. The Intrepid shook around her. "Return fire. Tubes one and two, target the vessel to starboard."

  "Aye!" Banks worked the controls, switching the canons to automatic computer control, and firing the torpedoes manually. They flared away, tumbling at speed and closing the gap between the Namar ship and the Intrepid. They struck it broadside aft, both torpedoes punching through its hull.

  The other vessel swooped in for another attack, energy beam cutting a solid line into the shields. They spat and popped at the effort of dissipating the energy overload. Meanwhile, the other ship came about in a wide arc, firing its own weapon.

  "Shields dropping to eighty-five percent," Gentry reported.

  The Intrepid's canons spat bursts of rapid fire at the fighters sweeping across its stern. They sped across the bridge, the laser fire following them. The Intrepid shuddered where their weapons hit.

  "Fire tube three directly ahead of those fighters," Chang gripped the sides of her chair.

  Banks frowned. "Captain, why–"

  "Do it. Get ready to blow it up."

  The torpedo whirled away from the Intrepid's front end, a ball of shimmering light that burst through the tightly formed squadron of fighters and continued on past them.

  "Slow the torpedo, get ready to detonate."

  "Aye. Slowing."

  "Ready?"

  "Yes Ma'am," Banks said.

  "Do it."

  The instantaneous giant ball of white hot energy burst apart at Chang's command. The shockwave knocked all of the fighters away. "Now pick them off," Chang said coolly.

  "Really?" Banks asked, uncertain.

  "I said pick them off."

  Don't question my orders in a fight. Not when our own lives are at stake.

  Banks nodded, though she could see he wasn't happy about it. "Aye," he said.

  "Captain, the Amarax is launching more fighters to support," Gentry said.

  She nodded grimly. "Okay let's finish with these."

  Banks looked over his shoulder. "Tubes five and six primed."

  "Target those two ships," Chang said.

  "Ready."

  "Fire!"

  The torpedoes arced away, one to each ship. One of the Namar vessels blew apart on impact, the other turned end over end, dead in the water, powerless even to correct its own crazy course through the void.

  "All targets either destroyed or inactive," Gentry reported. "Reinforcements inbound."

  With each wave we lose people, we lose shields . . .

  "Dana, contact command. Alert them to the situation here. No need to encrypt, just ensure it gets through. Request immediate support," Chang ordered.

  "Yes Captain."

  "Helm, bring us about. Begin evasive manoeuvres."

  Ensign Gordon nodded sharply. "Aye. Bringing us about."

  "Kyle, the situation on our fighters?"

  He changed the forward viewscreen to show the hangar bay doors opening. "Launching now."

  Squadrons of fighters left the imagined safety of the Intrepid, tearing out and forming into tight groups behind their carrier. Banks restored the image to show the incoming Namar ships.

  "Order the fighters to engage the enemy at will," Chang said. She felt uneasy at putting those pilots between them and the enemy, but saw little choice. It was what they were trained for. If they could buy the Intrepid some time, they might have a shot at lasting until help arrived.

  If.

  On the screen, it was a case of déjà vu. Only this time, there were three times the numbers of fighters. Their number filled the screen edge to edge. They were accompanied by not two but six of the larger vessels – black, angular in design. Completely identical, like six black daggers heading in for the kill.

  "If we can take out those ships at the rear, our fighters can hold their own against the Namar," Banks said.

  Chang's mind raced to make a decision, the Intrepid only seconds away from another round of fighting. "They can outmanoeuvre us. They will be difficult to hit and will easily have us tripping over our own feet. And Cessqa knows it."

  "Then what would you have me–"

  "We will engage the fighters. Dana, tell our ships to concentrate their efforts on those six vessels. Kyle, get ready to provide cannon fire."

  "Aye," Banks said, though she could tell he was sceptical.

  I know what he's thinking: if those bigger ships can outmanoeuvre us, of course the Namar fighters can. But I have an idea of how to deal with them, and it'll be easier than having a multitude of dogfights around the Intrepid . . .

  Dr. Gentry counted down. "Enemy will be in range in ten . . . nine . . . eight . . ."

  "Helm, full stop. Reverse all engines."

  "Full stop, aye!" Gordon shouted. "Reversing all engines. Everyone hang on!"

  The sudden shift in inertia had them all lurching forward. Chang looked to Banks. "Fire! All canons, blow them out of the sky!"

  His fingertips darted across the control panel. The Intrepid's canons answered his every command with bursts of laser fire. They sprayed their firepower into the oncoming swarm. The small ships detonated on impact which sent those around them into a hazardous spin to avoid being blown to smithereens.

  The fighters from the Intrepid cut through them, free to engage the six at the rear in combat. The Namar fighters that survived the initial onslaught from the Intrepid's canons sped past, unable to compensate both for being shot at, and having her suddenly decelerate, reversing before they could reach her.

  "Helm, starboard one-eighty-degrees. C plus five thousand metres," Chang ordered. "Engines to one half thrust."

  "Aye!"

  "Loading aft torpedo tubes," Banks said intuitively.

  Chang smiled. "You read my mind."

  He winked at her.

  Gentry looked up. "Fighters coming back around . . ."

  "Tubes ready."

  "Fire all tubes ahead of those fighters. Detonate as before."

  The viewscreen shifted to the aft cameras. The torpedoes drifted away from the Intrepid, the fighters were almost upon them. Banks detonated all six torpedoes manually. They blossomed into small supernovas of light and energy that the Namar fighters ploughed into, powerless to turn back at such short notice. A few made it through the carnage, firing their weapons across the Intrepid, smashing into the energy shielding. The ship shook, the overloaded shields causing the power to dip inside the Intrepid. The lights intermittently went off, then on again.

  "Training our canons to take them out," Banks said, voice tense with concentration.

  "Helm, alter course to assist our fighters," Chang ordered.

  "Yes Captain."

  Chang patched herself through to Engineering. "Chief, this is the Captain. How're we holding up down there?"

  "Shields are weakening," Kolvin said on the other end. In the background, voices shouted over one another, his people in a mad panic to hold the ship together. "I'm adjusting power output to compensate."

  "Will they hold?"

  "Not under a constant barrage like this, no. We had a secondary coupling blow out. I've sent the injured to sickbay."

  "Understood. Alert me if anything else comes up."

  "Yes Ma'am."

  She closed the channel. The Intrepid turned, the Ensign throwing full power to the starboard engines and shifting the port-side propulsion to reverse thrust. The ship almost turned on the spot, a tight manoeuvre that brought the battle between the Intrepid's fighters and the angular ships from the Amarax into immediate view.

  "How many have we lost?"

  "We launched a total of twenty-six fighters. We have lost eight so far," Ge
ntry replied. "There are still four of the Namar ships active."

  "Damn." She'd hoped for much better. And to lose eight souls like that. So fast . . .

  Ensign Gordon threw the Intrepid forward at full thrust. "Closing the gap, Captain."

  Chang drew a deep breath. "Okay. Banks, get ready with everything you have. Let's make a difference."

  3.

  Dr. Ira Vassili sorely wanted to smoke.

  The wounded from the Engineering room continued to fill up the sickbay, pushing him to draft in extra support to help deal with them. The men and women who'd been closest to the blown coupling were burned badly. Their faces and hands bright red, their voices crying in agony. To treat such burns was a relatively minor procedure, but it took time – time Vassili did not think he had. He instructed his supporting staff to apply the creams where they were needed, then escort the wounded to their quarters. They could heal just as well there as they could in the sickbay. At least they wouldn't be taking up precious beds for something that was not a life-threatening injury. Centuries before, those who were burned when the coupling blew would have risked blood poisoning, shock, and permanent scarring. Within twelve hours of applying the cream, modern burn patients would forget the trauma ever happened.

  "Come on, let's hurry and get these people out of here," the Doctor snapped. "We will have real wounded here soon enough. Mark my words."

  He hurried to one of the service entrances and walked to the back, where it was dark. He fumbled a cigarette from the packet in his trouser pocket, slipped it between his lips, and lit it. The Russian drew on it, breathed a sigh of relief that sent the vapours into the open waste disposal chute. It felt good. So, so good. The chaos in the medical bay was hushed by the walls around him, and there in the dark he found peace. He smoked; he relaxed; he readied himself for the real medical emergencies that would be coming his way. Vassili had been in battles before. He knew just what to expect.

  There would be no time to smoke later on.

  * * *

  "Turn, turn, turn!" Chang yelled, flinching, waiting for the hits to come. Three ships fired in unison, forming a tight delta wing that cut through the Intrepid's shields like knives through butter.