Far From Home: The Complete Second Series (Far From Home 13-15)

by Tony Healey

  He got up, walked around the desk and sat in his chair.

  "Lights."

  At the simple spoken command the lights dimmed. Admiral Grimshaw activated a holo-projector on his desk. It showed a star system.

  "What's that?" King asked.

  "It was, at one time, the Namar system. You've heard of them?"

  She shook her head.

  "It doesn't matter. They've been gone for a thousand years or more. Lost."

  "Lost?" Jessica asked. "I don't follow."

  As Grimshaw spoke, the display changed to show the different planets of the Namar system. It zoomed in on one in particular, showing brutal landscapes of ruined cities and poisoned seas.

  "The Namar were once a powerful civilisation. They'd begun to invade and conquer surrounding star systems when something happened. A great tragedy struck their race and, within a century or two, they destroyed themselves. All trace of them, apart from what you see here . . . completely lost," Grimshaw said. "We have little to nothing regarding their culture."

  "Wow. So, what does this have to do with me?"

  The Admiral smiled. "Always to the point, Captain. That's why I like you."

  Jessica blushed.

  At Grimshaw's command, the holodisplay zoomed back out and shifted to show a planet a little farther out, surrounded by several planetoids. It reminded her of a planet in the Sol system: Jupiter. And the smaller planets in orbit around it were very much like Jupiter's own Europa and Ganymede.

  "Here," Grimshaw said.

  The view crept closer and closer to one of the small planets to show something circling it.

  Jessica sat forward. "What is it?"

  "Exactly sixty kilometres long, twenty kilometres wide, and in a pitch-perfect orbit," the Admiral explained. "A featureless black cylinder, the likes of which we have never seen before."

  "Is that my mission?"

  He nodded.

  "How did you find it?"

  "A survey probe passed by that way. Command had it redirected to do a sweep of the Namar system. The probe apparently carried some new kind of visual sensor. That's what allowed for these immersive holo-maps. It was only when they went through its footage that they saw it, otherwise it might have gone unnoticed forever."

  "So there's nothing of real interest or value there otherwise," Jessica said. "Just a bunch of wasted planets."

  Grimshaw nodded in the direction of the giant cylinder circling the planetoid.

  "And that," he said. "Your new assignment will be to investigate it, find out what it is, how it got there, and why."

  "You don't have any ideas?" she asked him.

  The Admiral shook his head. "None. We literally know nothing about it. And seeing as you have a window before your next exploratory mission, I thought it prudent to redirect the Defiant and have you investigate. Call it a little diversion."

  Jessica laughed. "Yes sir."

  Grimshaw smiled. But when he looked at the display again, his smile faded. "This thing is an Enigma. That's what we've dubbed it. Be careful, Captain. Proceed with caution. There's an old saying, 'Know The Ledge.'"

  "Strange saying. What does it mean?" King asked with a frown.

  The Admiral fixed her with a serious expression. "An old one from Earth. It means know what's going on around you, and most important . . . watch your back . . ."

  5.

  The Admiral poured them each a glass of water. He handed Jessica hers.

  "Thanks."

  "How's your . . . uh . . . condition by the way?" he asked her.

  "Fine for the moment," Jessica said. "Doctor Clayton is about to try something new that he thinks will be successful. I'm not worried."

  Grimshaw's expression remained unchanged. "You must be concerned. There are no masks in this office, Captain. Remember that. And I've been around longer than anyone knows. I see a lot."

  She looked down, unable to keep his gaze. "Yes sir."

  "Listen, you know I think a lot of you. Just as much as I thought of Andrew, rest his soul. If there's anything I can do, just tell me. Anything. I'll do my very best," Grimshaw said. "I already knew about the medication Clayton's dabbling in. It was I who approved the payment."

  Jessica looked up. "Thanks, I appreciate it. Don't worry about my health. Between Doctor Clayton and me, we've got it covered. It doesn't affect my work."

  The Admiral nodded once and sipped his water. "Good."

  "What's the situation with the Draxx? I heard they gave a total surrender a few days ago? Is that true, or is just the newscasts chattering?" she asked him, eager to move off the subject of her MS.

  "It's all true. For once, the media are right. The Draxx have fully surrendered to us. It's taken nearly a year to get a complete withdrawal of their forces from Union space. We're in the process right now of securing their leadership and negotiating the dismantlement of their military. It's going to be a long process, but the key here is that it's over," he said. "Sounds so strange to hear myself say that. 'The war is over.' Doesn't seem quite possible, but there it is."

  "It would've made Dad happy."

  Grimshaw smiled. "Yes it would. There are a great many Captains and Admirals who would've happily seen the conflict go on forever. But not me. And not Andrew. We always wanted it to end."

  She raised her glass. "Shall we toast, then? How about to peace?"

  "Peace." The Admiral chinked his glass against hers and downed the water. "God I wish that were whiskey . . . Oh, I nearly forgot. I have taken the liberty of assigning you our resident expert on this kind of phenomena. Doctor Gentry has had a hand in several of these kinds of situations before. He's an historian at heart, and a bit of a nut if you ask me, but I think he'll be a great asset to have on the mission. If there's anyone who can offer an informed opinion on something like the Enigma, it's Doctor Gentry."

  "Okay," Jessica said. "I'll have him put up in one of the ambassadorial suites."

  Grimshaw laughed.

  "What's so funny?" she asked him.

  "Nothing. You'll see when you meet him. Trust me, that's when you'll understand why I'm laughing."

  The Admiral showed her to the door. "I'll check in with you in a day or so, let you get stuck in to fixing up the Defiant," he said.

  She saluted and he returned the gesture.

  "And about Doctor Gentry . . ." Jessica started to ask, unable to contain her curiosity.

  Grimshaw just chuckled. "Goodbye, Jessica."

  6.

  She wanted to make the most of the journey back to the Defiant, so she went on foot. Although it would take a long time to get back to her ship, it felt good to have a little breathing room. Some space in which to think about things.

  The Admiral had told her he would authorise any and all repairs and upgrades she wanted done, as long as the Defiant was ready to go in a week's time. Whatever that was out there, Grimshaw wanted the Defiant there to claim it first. Not that there was any chance of another species stumbling upon it in the time it would take them to get the Defiant shipshape. But you never really knew.

  They'd discovered it by chance and there was nothing to say someone else wouldn't do the same.

  The re-supply of ship's stores would take only a matter of days. The replacement of certain systems, and the renovation of others, a little longer than that. But she was confident the Defiant would be ready to go on schedule.

  However, that wasn't what bothered her.

  I lied to Del when I said I'd let it go, she thought. It bothers me. It scares me that I've lived another life. That I've died.

  She remembered starting the video . . .

  "Jess, I know you must be surprised to see me. Believe me, if this were as strange as it was ever going to get, you'd be lucky. I have a lot to tell you, and I'll be brief as possible. You have an entire galaxy to explore and I don't want to stop you – us – from living that dream. A dream of a simpler time, an age of peace. When we can revert to being explorers again. See what's out there . . ."

&n
bsp; The woman on the screen took a deep breath.

  "Jessica, there's only one way to tell you all of this. Some of it will be hard to hear; some of it will confuse you. But you must hear it. So let me start at the beginning . . ."

  And how many times had she watched it? How many times had she listened intently to the words of her doppelganger, digesting every factoid of information?

  Too many to count. So many, in fact, that she'd had the main file stored in the ship's memory banks and then deleted it from her personal computer. Eventually, she came to the conclusion that nobody should know too much about their own future. And in a way, it was like listening to her destiny getting spelled out for her. While that particular future would never happen, knowing about it all would still inform the choices she made. Case in point, pre-empting Swogger's breakdown.

  "How did you know?" the doctors had asked her.

  She'd simply smiled and told them she was attuned to the feelings of her crew.

  "I wish all Captains were that way," one of them had mumbled as they carted Swogger off.

  There had been some genuine good from her other self's message . . . and that was the nature of her heritage. Initially, the revelation that Andrew Singh had actually been her biological Father. And then the MS she'd inherited from him. Unlike her other self, however, Jessica had a chance at treating it.

  The walk back to the Defiant was a long and difficult one for her, more so because of her condition. Her back hurt, her feet grew numb as ice blocks and yet she pushed on, determined to do it herself. It felt good to simply walk, unhindered by distractions from the crew, from the many problems that arose minute to minute, the plethora of issues that required her personal attention.

  Commander Greene had reminded her of the fact it was a full year since Singh had died. Though she'd forgotten it was so soon, Singh had never once left her thoughts. And now, as she walked the extensive walkways of Station 6, she was reminded of the day his body was shot out into space.

  Then the Draxx had arrived – and immediately after that, she'd commanded the Defiant in an effort to stop it from destroying them all. Her grief at Singh's memorial service had been forgotten then, and indeed in the aftermath of those events.

  But not now.

  Right now, she felt it all, raw as it had been back then.

  I'll shake it off, she thought. Jessica shook her head and a thin smile appeared on her lips. No I won't, and that's the point.

  Captain King walked through the decontamination jets of the Defiant's airlock and felt relief at finally being on familiar decking. She wasn't much in the looks department, and she happened to be pretty old, but the Defiant was home.

  And after all, home is where family is.

  7.

  "So, waddaya think of the joint?" Dollar asked her.

  Selena glanced around. "It's nice. But not as nice as the company."

  They sat in a little place called The Chili Leaf, nestled between a tattoo parlour and a multi-purpose store on the station's promenade.

  She reached across the table, took hold of his hand, and squeezed. Dollar couldn't help but smile. It had taken a while, but thankfully, the bond he'd had with Selena Kyle in the previous timeline was the same here. He'd managed to rekindle his relationship with her, though it pained him not to be able to tell her the real story. The most he'd been able to say was "I used to work for Covert Ops, which is why I can't tell you about my previous duty."

  That had been enough for her. He suspected she'd tried to look him up, and knew that all she'd get was a warning:

  CLASSIFIED DATA

  ACCESS TO PERSONNEL FILE DENIED

  She admitted as much after trying to peek into his past.

  "Thought ya would," he'd said.

  "Well, I had to try, didn't I?"

  Now, here they were, a full six months into their relationship. And it was as strong as before, if not stronger.

  "Six months . . ." Selena said.

  "I know," Dollar said. "Amazin' ain't it? Who'da thought a rogue like me would end up with a little beauty like yerself?"

  She let go of his hand. "Oh, shush."

  "Nah, I'm serious," he said.

  The waiter set their drinks down on the table. A moment later he returned with their starters, then left them in peace.

  "I'm very lucky to have you," Dollar told her. "And you know what?"

  She shook her head. "No, go on, tell me."

  Dollar grinned in an all-too-familiar, lopsided way that managed to melt her heart, without fail, every single time. "Yer lucky to have me."

  Before she could fire back with a suitable retort the Texan had stuffed a forkful of salad into his mouth and proceeded to chew, his mouth slapping back and forth in a comedic manner.

  And then, all she could do was laugh at him.

  8.

  "I don't know how we all got off the ship at once," Lisa Chang said as Kyle Banks got another round in. Crew from the Defiant had flooded into Mickey's, and the atmosphere was familiar and friendly. There was a good vibe in there, though the takeover probably hadn't gone down so well with the station regulars looking for a quiet drink that evening.

  "Don't be such a misog," Banks said and shoved another shot at the Lieutenant. "Here, drink up."

  Chang rolled her eyes, but downed the shot without hesitation. The liquor burned her throat and made her gasp. She slammed the shot glass down on the counter, much to Banks's surprise.

  "Feisty," he said with a smirk and ordered another round.

  "Hey," a familiar voice said from behind. Chang turned around to find Olivia Rayne there at the bar.

  "Oh, hey you," Chang said and pulled her in for a quick kiss. "Did you just get here?"

  Olivia nodded. "Just got let out, you mean," she said. "Released for good behaviour."

  The music playing over the speakers in Mickey's changed to a slow, thumping synthpop. The bass resonated so deep it made the back of Chang's throat vibrate.

  "Drink?" Banks asked her, his voice raised over the din.

  "Ooh, yes please," Olivia said.

  Chang shook her head. "Don't let him corrupt you."

  Rayne ducked in for another kiss, and as the two parted Rayne licked her top lip. "By the taste of it, you've already been corrupted."

  Lisa chuckled.

  Banks handed them both shots, and the three of them downed the drinks together, gasping at the end.

  Olivia held her throat. "What the hell was that?"

  "Ouch!" Lieutenant Banks exclaimed. He signalled the bartender. "Three more and keep 'em coming!"

  *

  Dr. Clayton waited as the passengers filed onto the station from the recently docked transport. He checked his watch – an old fashioned timepiece his Father had given him when he was a boy – and noted that the merchant was late.

  Then he saw him. Trundling along on a set of slippery tentacles, the Bejugit glanced around before it noticed him standing there. Clayton had had dealings with the same man (if he could be called a man) several times over the years and he knew him to be trustworthy. Before it had only been the simple matter of getting hold of restricted brandy – not exactly hardcore illegal by any means. The good Doctor happened to be partial to a nip of Veluzevaran brandy from time to time, and the only way to get hold of some was to have it shipped – by hand – from one end of the galaxy to the other. However, it was worth it.

  Another time the Bejugit, who operated by the name of Landell, had transported a crate of very rare medical books from the early colonial period. There was much to be learned from those first settlers of the outer rim systems.

  Landell didn't come cheap. But this time the Union were footing the bill, much to Clayton's surprise. Grimshaw himself had signed off on it.

  "Landell my friend," Clayton said in greeting.

  The Bejugit shook his hand. "Doctor. A pleasure seeing you again."

  "Is this mine?" Clayton asked, looking down at the metal case in the alien's other hand.

  La
ndell smiled, showing his small, sharp teeth. "Indeed."

  "Do you have time for a drink?" Clayton asked him.

  "I'm afraid not," Landell said. "I have an item to collect from a client aboard this station, and then I must catch the next departure."

  He handed Clayton the case. "Thanks," the Doctor said. He popped it open quickly to check that it did contain what it was meant to.

  People filed past them, on their way to and fro all areas of the station.

  "All there. As you asked. Very peculiar. You couldn't have a Union ship bring that here?"

  Clayton shook his head. "No. What with the upheaval following the war, they've put a cap on that sort of thing. I had to get a private courier to do the job. I'm afraid you're the only man I'd even consider."

  Landell laughed. "And you're more than welcome. I appreciate your loyalty!"

  "Oh, that reminds me," Clayton said. He handed the Bejugit a data tablet. "Just authorise that, and it'll go straight to your account. I made sure they added ten per cent on top for the inconvenience. It's not like they can't afford it."

  Landell reviewed the payment information on the table, smiled his appreciation and pressed one of his fingers to the screen. A second later, the credits transferred to his own account, safe and secure. "Thank you, Doctor."

  "You're welcome. Well, I won't keep you," Clayton said. He looked over at the timetable. "I see from the board over there your next flight out is in one hour."

  "Yes. Time waits for no Bejugit," Landell said. He shook the Doctor's hand once again. "You have my card, my friend. Whatever you want, don't hesitate to ask."

  "As always," Clayton said.

  He watched the Bejugit slither off, then glanced about. The promenade was a five minute walk away. He could hear the noise. Smell the food. There was no time for that . . . but perhaps just one drink?

  Why not? he thought. It's been a long goddamn trip for me, too.

  He headed in the direction of the promenade, carrying with him the case that may very well contain the cure to his Captain's regrettable affliction.