Far From Home: The Complete Second Series (Far From Home 13-15) (29 page)

"I have my meeting with Grimshaw tomorrow," Jessica told her, trying to break the silence that had settled between them. "I should find out what's happening to us."

"Not a lot, I don't think," Gunn said.

"Really? What makes you say that?"

"When we headed out to look at the
Enigma
, Grimshaw didn't care what it took to get the
Defiant
refitted and replenished," Gunn said. "Spared no expense. But this time around, I've had to scrape together what I could to fix her up as I have. And she's not great, Jess. Far from it."

"Maybe I can have a word with him when I see him tomorrow."

"Hmm. Maybe. I just think there's a reason we've been left in limbo. Like they don't want us taking the
Defiant
back out."

Jessica shook her head. "They wouldn't ground her, Chief. She's operational. Despite appearances, of course."

Gunn shrugged. "I'm just saying. I think she's got too many miles on the clock for their liking."

Jessica looked down at her breakfast. Suddenly she didn't feel so hungry.

*

As she walked to her quarters, after bidding the Chief farewell, Jessica wondered if Meryl might have a point.

When they'd returned, Grimshaw had offered her lodgings aboard the station.

"I'll be fine, sir. My quarters were undamaged," she'd told him.

"I insist," Grimshaw had said.

Why? Was it strictly because the
Defiant
was in such bad shape elsewhere, that he didn't think it fitting to allow her to stay aboard like that?

Or was it that he knew of something else in the pipeline? A development concerning her and her crew that he'd held back for some reason?

Jessica entered her quarters to gather some more of her belongings. She pulled several uniform tunics off the rail, dropped them on the edge of the bed. She didn't need all of them, just a few spare.

Her eyes fell to the tunic she'd worn that day. The one she'd stuffed in the closet and forgotten about.

It still had Commander Greene's bloody handprint down the front.

"Your Father would have been proud."

It was almost too much for her to take. He looked once more at the Chief, his face growing pale and waxy. Jessica let go of his hand, let it fall down her uniform where it left a streaked, red handprint . . .

Jessica picked it up, looked at it more closely. The blood had dried to a brownish stain now. She made to stuff it into the trash chute, but instead found herself hanging it back up. Her mind flashed to him on the floor, his hand in hers. The way it fell down the front of her tunic.

Their conversation earlier. The hymn from his childhood.

Commander Greene looked sideways at the twinkling lights beyond the viewport. He looked almost wistful, longing.

"Da dee da da, da dee dee . . ." he sang softly, barely audible.

Jessica's brows rose in surprise. "Del, I never took you for a singer."

He laughed. "I'm not. It's just something my Mother used to sing to me."

"Really?"

"You don't recognise it?"

She shook her head.

"Da dee da da, da dee dee," he hummed again. "Star of wonder, star of night . . ."

"Oh. What is it? Where's it from?"

"An old hymn or something. I dunno. I've never forgotten it though. All these years and I still find myself humming it in the shower," the Commander said. He looked down at the coffee cup in his hands, bashful. "Mother used to sing it all the time, like a comfort. Silly, really."

"No it's not," she said.

She sorted through some more of her clothes, stuffed them into a holdall. Still, she left plenty there, her intention being to return to those quarters in the near future. Jessica sang to herself, softly, barely loud enough to hear as she headed for the door. "Star of wonder, star of night . . ."

3.

I could get used to this,
Commander Lisa Chang thought as she gazed at the view beyond the large sheet of glass separating her quarters from outside space.

Since they'd returned, she'd grown accustomed to the rotating panorama of cosmos afforded her as the station turned on its axle. The fact that she had the lights off and stood naked in front of it as she did so made the experience even more spectacular.

"Here," Olivia Rayne whispered. She covered Chang's shoulders with a thin blanket. "You've been there half hour. Maybe it's time to cover up with something."

Chang grinned. "It bugs you that I like being like this, doesn't it?"

Rayne shook her head. "No. But I do wonder how you don't get cold. I mean, you do have it like an ice block in here. The air conditioning is way too high."

She shrugged. "You get used to it."

Olivia had often walked around naked in the quarters they shared together aboard Station 6, mostly at the same time as her. And yes, they had enjoyed some fine evenings watching the view outside, a glass of wine each. Soft music over the speakers. Their two bodies touching . . .

But she didn't care to be that way all the time.

"Well, I don't know about you, but I like clothes. They're warm. Comfortable. You should try them. Besides, it only takes someone with a pair of good binoculars to go looking out their window as they pass the station . . ."

Chang laughed. Even in the semi-dark she could see Rayne wore pyjama bottoms and a vest. "Funny," Lisa said. She sat down on the sofa.

Olivia settled in next to her
.
"You know it's the middle of the night," she said.

"Yeah."

"And I'm not making something bigger out of this, but you have been doing this every couple of days. Getting up, coming out here and watching the stars. Should I be contacting Doctor Clayton any time soon? Tell him to prepare for some kind of psychosis?"

"No," Chang said. "I just like the quiet. The peace. It's been nice."

"It has," Rayne admitted.

"You mean living together here, on the station," Chang said.

"Why? What did you mean?"

Chang laughed again. "Don't over exert yourself, Olivia."

"Cheeky."

Lisa hugged her tight. Kissed the top of her head. They both watched as a small ship crossed from right to left, lights twinkling.

"All of it's been great," Chang said. "That's what I meant. Really. Being together the way we have. I've loved it."

"But it doesn't change what happened, does it?"

She shook her head. "No. No, it doesn't. That's why I can't sleep, Olivia. It's why I come out here, nothing on, and stare into space. Because it makes the thoughts go away. Makes the memories fade."

Olivia didn't say anything. She had no need to.

What needed to be voiced existed in the realm of the unsaid, in the heavy silence. Olivia cleared her throat. "Just promise me you'll start wearing
some
clothes, okay?"

"Sure," Chang said and pulled the blanket tighter around her shoulders. Olivia could have been sure her lover shivered next to her. As if she'd been feeling the cold all along.

*

Chief Gunn worked till she dropped, till she physically couldn't continue. Then she showered; she ate, then drank something strong enough to get her to sleep.

And after, she dreamed.

. . . The pulsing light of the reactor surged around them as Commander Greene pulled the Chief in close and kissed her hard, firm on the lips. For a split second she resisted, surprised by his spontaneity – then she sagged in his arms, lost in his embrace.

The Chief reached up as they kissed, let her fingers slip through his hair. It was a long moment, heightened by what they'd just achieved, by their deep love and desire for one another. By the beating heart of the Defiant they'd both managed to restore. It throbbed, the air around them vibrating.

And yet they stayed that way for a long time. Eventually she pulled away from him, and he looked at her with big, fierce eyes.

I want you, they said. I love you. I need you . . .

Always that. Little could she have known that Captain King also revisited the same moments, the same memories. They washed up.

Like the ancient green water that churned up from the sea bed in a storm
.
Sailors in Earth's past had known that it was a bad omen, that it meant the storm was turning into a wild one once it kicked that old green water up from the bottom.

Del's death was more than a bad one,
Gunn thought.
It was catastrophic for me.

Now she found herself bedding down for the night, knocking back one glass of tequila after another. Not stopping until the warm hands of sleep found a way of closing her eyes. Making her feel heavy and relaxed. Until that washed over her, she would keep on going
.
Drink drink drink.

. . . she cradled him as his lips moved, formed soundless words.

I love you.

"I will always love you," Gunn said. "Always."

And with that, he was gone. Meryl closed his eyes and sat rocking him back and forth, sobbing. "Don't leave me . . . don't leave me . . ."

The Chief swallowed another shot of tequila, sat back and closed her eyes. In the morning, she would hear good or bad news. Either way, none of it would ever be the same. None of it would ever bring Del back to her. There was no reset button. Life for them all had changed forever.

Del had been the only man who'd ever actively shown an interest in her. Not just as a friend, either, but romantically. And the only one who'd truly
got
her as a person. Who understood why she had to be the way she was. It was how she worked – not only in her role, but as a person. Without her persona, what was she?

A lonely woman.

The Chief tried to dream of something else. Anything at all that wouldn't return her to that place. To his death.

But it always went the same way. Turned in the same direction, regardless.

That corridor . . . the Commander in her arms.

"Don't leave me . . . don't leave me . . ."

And on and on. When would it stop? When would it
ever
stop?

*

"Are you going to carry on working on that thing?" Selena asked him.

Dollar wheeled himself out from beneath the
Dragonfly
, a grin on his face.

"Sorry, darlin'. Got myself carried away."

Dragonfly
had seen some action in their battle with Cessqa, but there was always room for improvement. So many aspects of her configuration he could tweak.

"How much longer are you going to be? I want to go to bed at some point," Selena asked, a note of impatience creeping into her voice. "I know you like being down here in the hangar, playing with yourself. But sometimes it'd be nice to see my boyfriend."

Dollar got up, wiped his hands down the front of his overalls. "Hey sweetheart, you know I love ya."

"I'm starting to question it, to be honest," she said in as serious a tone as she could muster.

It didn't last long before she was smirking
.
Dollar pulled her in close for a kiss. They parted and he stroked her cheek. "I was just coming."

"I bet you were," she chided.

"I was. Scout's honour."

Now it was her turn to kiss him. "So you're a boy scout now, huh?"

"Betchya," Dollar said.

Selena reached around, grabbed his back end and gave it a healthy squeeze. "Let's see if we can't get you a new merit badge for effort. What d'you think?"

She led him off the hangar deck by the hand. He didn't take much convincing.

4.

Jessica made her way to Admiral Grimshaw's office, the station alive around her. Crowds of people – human, alien, replicant and robotic in nature – moved this way and that. Going from one end of the station to the other. Tides of bodies leaving ships or going to them.

Jessica navigated the masses and found a seat on a shuttle. She sat down with a sigh of relief and let it carry her through the superstructure toward her meeting with the Admiral. She felt nervous. Perhaps it was what the Chief had told her.

The uncertainty of knowing what was going to happen to her crew, her ship . . . her stomach had tied itself in knots.

She stepped off the shuttle and headed down a long corridor, the Admiral's office at the end. She could see the door. Now she saw someone exit into the hallway.

Jessica stopped walking. She felt her breath catch in her chest
.
The man smiled as he recognised her. He headed straight toward her, and still she could not move.

"Will?" she asked; even saying the name felt strange.

He stepped in close, opened his arms and embraced her. "Jess!"

He gave her a firm, warm squeeze. She could smell his aftershave. The same as it had been, all that time ago. They parted.

Jessica straightened her uniform. She noticed that Will Ardai did not wear his. Instead he wore nondescript black clothing. Functional trousers, a T-Shirt and a black cap. Beneath all that, his tanned skin, finished off with bright blonde hair and a flashy smile.

That smile.

She'd never forgotten it.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, more than a little thrown to bump into him after so many years.

"I'm on assignment," he said cryptically before changing tact. "Hey, anyway, look at you. Haven't aged a day since I last saw you."

"I could say the same about you. But what's with the getup?"

He looked down at himself. "Yeah, not exactly standard issue is it?"

"No. You could say that," she said with a giggle that came out far more girlish than she'd intended.

"I'm with Captain Shaw. He's in the office with Grimshaw, waiting for you."

"Oh? Shaw. Never heard of him."

"He's a great guy, Jess. You'll like him, we've worked together for years. A really strong Captain."

"Well, look, I better get in there. But we'll have to . . . uh . . ." she said awkwardly.

"Meet up?"

"Yes," she said, laughed nervously. "That's what I was going to say. Sorry."

Will grinned at her. His hand fell to her shoulder. She wished it had been her face. She would have turned into it. For the first time in so long, she felt like a girl again. Butterflies in the stomach.

Her worries were dispelled. Forgotten. Pushed away as if they no longer mattered.

"I should be here on the station another day or so. Docking bay seven, though you won't find us on any inventory or manifest," he told her.

She frowned. "What d'you mean?"

He just laughed. "You'll see. Pop by later today and I'll show you around our ship. It's a bit unique. I think you'll like it."

"I will," she said, then: "Come by, I mean. You've sort of thrown me off. I wasn't expecting to see you . . . uh . . . here . . ."

"See you later." He smiled, patted her shoulder, then walked off. Jessica watched him go.

If he turns back to look, to see if I'm watching him, then it's still there. That spark is still there,
she thought.

He carried on walking.

Go on. Turn around.

Will reached the end of the corridor and turned back to look at her before passing out of sight. Their eyes locked on each other. She felt herself blush. Melted right there. Broke into a soppy grin that, she was sure, made her look like a feeble teenager gazing at her childhood crush.

He flashed his trademark smile once more, then was gone. She was left once again with the prospect of what lay in store for her beyond the threshold of Grimshaw's office door. She drew a deep breath and pressed on. Back to business. Crushes, old flames . . . all of that could wait.

*

"Jessica, I'd like you to meet Captain Shaw. He's on special assignment for me," Admiral Grimshaw explained.

"Pleasure," she said as she shook the man's hand.

Shaw was nearing fifty, a shock of grey at both temples. Well built, lithe but stocky with scars up his forearms. He had a patch over his left eye, and his right was a dazzling blue.

I bet when he had both of them, he never struggled with the ladies,
Jessica thought.
Where has my sudden interest in the opposite sex come from?

She knew all too well.

"Good to meet you, Captain King," Shaw said. "I've heard a lot about the
Defiant
and her intrepid commanding officer."

"My reputation precedes me," Jessica said with a grin.

"Well deserved, far as I hear. Word is you have all seen a lot of action," Shaw said.

Jessica shrugged. "We've been in a few scrapes, I guess . . ."

"I'd like to hear about some of them. Maybe we can share a few war stories someday," Shaw said. "If you weren't a woman I'd ask you if you wanted to compare scars!" He let rip a loud, deep bellow of a laugh and gave her a friendly slap on the back, as if she were one of the boys.

She liked him instantly. Grimshaw indicated the two seats on the other side of his desk. "Shall we? I'm sure you can both make arrangements for comparing your war wounds later."

The two captains sat down. Grimshaw settled his bulk behind his desk, hands on the top as he readied himself for what he had to say.

"We know that the Namar crew were taken from the
Enigma
prior to our own rendezvous. I had no knowledge of this previous operation before sending you out, Jessica. I thought I'd reiterate that for clarity," Grimshaw said. "We also know that those crew were used as part of an experiment called Project Prometheus. Captain Shaw has been tasked with investigating that project, and what has come of its subjects."

"Sir?" Jessica asked, frowning.

Grimshaw's eyes looked heavy, tired. She realised that what had happened to them had taken its toll on him, too.
He must feel responsible for the deaths, for what's been woken. For the evil let loose from Pandora's box . . .

"It would seem that the Project resulted in some experimentation with splicing technology."

"Splicing? As in
gene
splicing?"

Grimshaw nodded. "The same. Ever since the Marquis unrest, we have ceased production of replicants. Made it illegal. As you well know, as a result of the Marquis operations, replicants procreate among themselves. In some cases, interbreeding with humans. The division between human and replicant has been made all the more narrow over the years, and well may it continue. But, whoever ordered Project Prometheus into existence did so with the intention of blending replicants and Namarians, resulting in some kind of . . . hybrid being. Not only does this break several laws, it also poses some very worrying possibilities."

"My God," Jessica said, stunned. "Why do that?"

"Superior fighting force," Captain Shaw suggested. "Think back to the heyday of the war. We relied on the replicants as the backbone of our armies. After all, they're just like us. Only better. Stronger, faster. Longer life spans."

Jessica remembered the literature of the time. "Yes I recall a slogan that said just that. I can't remember right now what it was, exactly. But I've seen it in several texts."

"'Better In War,'" Grimshaw added.

Shaw snapped his fingers. "Yeah that's it. 'Better in war.' Well, they certainly got above that this time."

"So, what leads do we have?" Jessica asked. She was aware the Admiral had pursued the mysteries surrounding the
Enigma
relentlessly since their time locking horns with Cessqa and her people.

The Admiral sat back in his chair, folded his arms in front of his chest. "Very little. It's restricted way above even my level. And of course, I don't want to ask anyone for favours. I don't know who to trust."

"Aside from us," Captain Shaw said.

Grimshaw smiled. "I can always trust you two, Rick. Hence this meeting."

"So we have the name of the experiment, and we know something came of it . . ." Jessica said, trying to get back on topic.

"Yes. On a backwater planet, a dustbowl called Outland, there was a facility. Top secret, out in the middle of nowhere. Well, to cut a long story short, any mention I found of Project Prometheus in the files went hand in hand with the planet Outland. Going a bit deeper, I found details of the kind of facility they had out there."

"Go on," she said.

"It was a training base, Jessica. The same configuration as many of our own military training bases located on numerous planets throughout the galaxy. A place to make men out of boys. Or . . . fighters out of test tube hybrids."

She shook her head. It was hard to believe, but there it was
.
"Do we know who took the Namar from the
Enigma
in the first place?"

"I'm looking into that. It's been heavily classified. If there's a file at all," Shaw said. "As I was explaining to the Admiral before you joined us, there's not an awful lot to go on."

"So how will you proceed?" she asked him.

"Head to Outland as soon as possible, see the site for myself. Talk to the people in the area. See if it turns up a lead," Shaw said.

"A good plan."

"I think you'll understand my reasons for calling on Captain Shaw to help us, Jess. He's not standard military like you or I. Mister Shaw here is, shall we say, off the books. Do you get me?"

"You mean Shadow Force, don't you?"

Shaw shifted in his seat. The Admiral's face held a grim expression. "You've heard of it. Black ops. Completely off the grid. I can't trust any of my colleagues, Jess. You know that. I must first gather together the evidence, make a proper case of corruption before making grand claims. It's pretty simple, this whole thing. Someone ordered those Namar to be taken from the
Enigma
. And someone – possibly the same person – ordered they be used to create a new fighting force. An army of hybrids. For what purpose I couldn't begin to postulate."

"Another war," Captain Shaw said.

"But against whom?" Jessica asked them both.

Grimshaw sighed. "Against whoever they choose, I guess. The next candidate. For some, that is how it is. How it's always been."

"That's sickening," she said.

"No," Shaw said next to her. His one blue eye seemed incredibly bright. "That's
war
."

*

Once Captain Shaw had left, Grimshaw got to the subject of her own orders.

"I can't authorise a mission to investigate, Jess," he told her. Evidently he'd not wanted to say what he needed to in front of Shaw. "They want me to mothball the
Defiant
. Stick her in a museum. Famous ship and all that."

It was like an invisible fist had slugged the air out of her. Jessica leaned forward, took a deep breath, filled her empty lungs with air. She swallowed.

I feel sick.

"Sir . . . I'm not done yet. I need to find Cessqa. But above all else, I need to know who is responsible for all of this. Not having my ship, Admiral, it's the same as cutting my legs away."

Her mind flashed to the MS that had once threatened to do just that, before Dr. Clayton found a remedy.

"I appreciate your position, Captain. But I regret I am unable to step in. If I do, whoever is behind all of this will know I am one step closer to discovering the truth. I must be seen as a team player."

"So what should I do? Sit around here, twiddling my thumbs?" she snapped.

"Calm down," he told her evenly. She watched as he got up and fetched them each a glass of water. Jessica drank some. The cold glass perspired in her hand. She drank some more then put the tumbler in front of her on the desk.

"Sorry," she said.

The Admiral looked at the viewport on the other side of his office. A small hole in the wall, and beyond it, the stars. The sea of lights they all called home.

"Your Father's ship," he said. "I get it. I understand what it must feel like to give it up. I really do. But you must let it go, Jess. Or let your attachment to it destroy you."

"I know, only . . ."

The Admiral smiled warmly. "For all the light out there, it is incredible just how cold and dark space really is. When it's like that, all we really have is each other, and the bonds we make. Wouldn't you agree?"

She didn't say anything.

"I can't authorise another mission," Grimshaw said. "Are you getting what I'm saying? In an official capacity, it's over."

She looked up at him. "Sir?"

"I cannot authorise a mission . . . but since when has that stopped you, eh?" he said with a wink. "Anyway, that is not the issue here. We must unearth as much as possible about the project itself. Only then will we discover who gave the word. After all, they knew we went there. They knew what we would find. Who we might have woken."