Far From Home: The Complete Second Series (Far From Home 13-15) (4 page)

10.

Jessica chose her moment to visit the munitions section, knowing most of the crew were off ship getting some much needed R&R. She'd not had a chance to get down there, but the desire to do so had burned within her. She couldn't believe it had been as long as it had. It only seemed yesterday she'd been given her posting as Captain of the
Defiant
and sent on her way into uncharted territory. In a way, the ship had been her inheritance. Shortly after getting under way, she'd learned that Andrew Singh was her Father and it had made the words on the memorial plaque fixed to the bulkhead in munitions a lot more meaningful.

She turned a corner, and t
here it was:

IN MEMORIAM

CAPTAIN ANDREW SINGH

FATHER TO MANY

Now she looked around, located the place where he'd perished in her arms. The recollection of that day, now a year past, came racing home. It caught in her lungs, made her eyes sting. He'd been there. At that very spot. Right there, looking up at her . . .

*

She spotted Singh straight away. He lay on the floor, his helmet off. Two medics worked to keep him alive. They looked up as King approached.

Doctor Clayton stood. Jessica went to fall at Singh’s side, but the doctor stopped her. He placed his hands on her shoulders, held her at arm’s length.

"Commander, look at me.
Look at me
," he said.

Her eyes locked onto his.

Dr. Clayton’s eyes were full of regret, his voice firm, but tinged with sadness. "He’s dying. The explosion tore him apart. There’s too much . . . there’s nothing I can do for him now . . ."

Jessica looked over his shoulder. She saw the blood that covered the Captain and coated the floor around him. Her hand went to her mouth.

"I’m sorry," Dr. Clayton said. "He doesn’t have long."

He let go of her, dug his hands into his jacket pockets.

She walked past him and knelt by Singh’s side. He looked up at her and smiled. He was burnt all over. She fought to hide her horror. Jessica knew the Captain needed to see all the strength she could muster.

The mangled mess of his legs. The blood pooling from his midsection. His face grey, washed
out. Tears streamed down her face.

Her voice cracked as she spoke.
"Please don’t go, please."

Captain Singh shook his head slowly. Smiled.
"Jess . . . We each have our time. My own is at an end . . ."

"
No . . ." she managed to say.

Singh reached up, stroked the side of her face.
"Now it is
your
turn to do as much as you can with the time you have . . ."

He smiled again, then his eyes seemed focus on something far away. The light in them faded. Singh’s hand fell away from hers and the sound of his last breath issued slowly from between his lips.

"No . . ." she whispered as she cradled him in her arms.

*

"Excuse me, Captain? Are you all right?"

She turned around to find an Ensign standing there, a look of concern on his face.

"Huh?" she asked, taken aback. She'd been certain there wasn't anyone down here.

"I didn't mean to startle you. I
. . . it's just I saw you standing here . . ." he stammered.

Jessica smiled. She was well aware her eyes were moist, her face red.

"It's okay, Ensign. Just having a look about. I thought I was alone down here," she said.

"You would've been, but I didn't much fancy drinking tonight with the others. I'm very much looking forward to our next assignment, Ma'am," the Ensign said.

"Well, I am too. But don't be afraid to let your hair down a little," Jessica told him. "We all deserve a little break now and then."

The Ensign nodded. "Thanks. I'll remember that."

As Captain King left the munitions section, she thought,
As will I.

*

Master At Arms Eisenhower peered up. "Haven't you got anything better to be doing with your time, sonny?"

Dollar grinned. "Nope. Hand me a wrench, will yuh?"

Eisenhower sighed, dug out a wrench and watched as the gifted pilot worked on his ship. He'd been slowly piecing together the antique star fighter for months, and it was nearly done.

"What did you say you're going to name this thing, when you're done?"

Dollar patted the nose of the ship. "I was thinkin'
Dragonfly
."

"Good name."

"Thanks."

"So, uh, you not with your lady friend this evening? I hear most of the crew's upped sticks and gone out for drinks and what have you," the Master At Arms inquired.

The hangar was quiet save for Dollar's antics, and it was a wonder Eisenhower wasn't tucked up in his quarters already. But the truth was, he'd found it hard to sleep the past couple of months. Ever since the accident . . .

"I
was
with her," Dollar said sheepishly. "Then I was
with
her, if yuh get my meanin'."

"Oh," Eisenhower said. He knew all too well. He'd been something of a ladies' man himself, many moons before.

"Anyways, she's asleep, and I'm there next to her thinkin' I'd like to get a few hours in down here," Dollar said. "Tell the truth, I didn't expect to see yerself down here either, fella."

"Can't sleep," Eisenhower said. He took the wrench from Dollar and swapped it for a long handled screwdriver. With every tool and implement at their disposal, sometimes there was no better tool than a good old-fashioned cross head.

Especially when it happened to be an antique that was being put together, piece by piece.

"I hear yuh," Dollar said softly. "The accident."

The Master At Arms nodded slowly. "Comes to me, now and then. Yourself?"

Dollar stopped what he was doing, looked up at some distant point.

"Sometimes."

They'd been down in the hangar bay when the
Defiant
got struck by a series of tachyon bursts from a nearby supernova. It played havoc with ship's systems, caused many of them to operate erratically, without warning. At the time, Jack Boi had been helping Dollar work on
Dragonfly
. The cargo bay doors opened of their own accord. Eisenhower raced for the manual override, but was too late. The pull of the vacuum lifted both men off of the half-built ship. Dollar managed to keep hold by the edge of his fingertips. Boi was not so lucky. He went tearing out into space a mere second before Eisenhower could get the doors closed.

"I can't get it out of my head," Eisenhower said. "If only I'd been a little quicker."

"Yuh can't get to thinkin' about that, pal," Dollar said. "It'll drive yuh mad."

Eisenhower smiled. "Old and senile already, son, I can't get much worse."

Dollar laughed. It broke the ice somewhat. "Hey old timer, pass me one of those spanners, will yuh?"

*

Jessica left the lights off and poured herself a drink. A more than adequate measure of icy cold vodka, it burned deliciously on its way down. She unbuttoned her uniform tunic and reclined on the sofa. She poured another glass, let loose a sigh, and gazed out at the stars beyond the porthole.

Jessica lifted her glass, as in a toast. "Here's to you, Dad."

She downed it. And poured another.

11.

It was a push, but by the end of the week the
Defiant
had been fully re-supplied and refitted where needed. The ship didn't have that "new car smell," but she did feel refreshed somewhat. Along with many other tweaks to her internal systems, the
Defiant
had been fitted with new hull plating and an energy shield. The old Archon classes had never had anything like an energy shield, and certainly the
Defiant
was one of the first to be fitted with such a device. Her weapon systems remained as they were, but she'd gained more speed and manoeuvrability due to several improvements to her propulsion systems.

When it came to updating the bridge, Jessica King had been adamant that the captain's chair had to stay.

"But don't you think it'll look out of place amongst all this new stuff?" one of the engineers asked her.

She simply shook her head. "If it goes, so do I."

Admiral Grimshaw approached the airlock, wrapping up his brief tour of the reinvigorated ship. "She's looking good, Captain."

"Thanks," King said. "She needed it, I think."

Grimshaw patted the nearby bulkhead. "Old but still has it where it counts."

Jessica beamed. "Yes."

"One day you'll have yourself a new ship. But for now, I think you've still got some mileage to come out of this one," Grimshaw said. He extended his hand and the two of them shook. "Good luck on your mission, Captain King. There is an apt phrase for moments just like this. Perhaps you've heard it?"

She cocked an eyebrow. "Go on."

It can’t be any worse than the one about "knowing the ledge,"
she thought.

"Good hunting," the Admiral said. He threw her a wink then turned and disappeared through the airlock to the station side.

12.

"Captain on the bridge," Commander Greene declared. The bridge crew stood to attention and saluted her. It was an over-the-top tradition from the earliest days of the Union fleet. Jessica threw Greene a puzzled look but proceeded to take her place in the captain's chair regardless, as if nothing were out of place.

She knew it was the Commander's kind of humour. He'd been around so long, he knew there was no way she would reproach him for such a stunt. Official protocol called for such pomp every time she walked onto the bridge. Of course, it was unreasonable and absurd to expect that . . . and embarrassing to boot.

But I'll get him back
, she thought. The crew took to their stations again, and the Commander glanced sideways at her. Jessica smirked but kept her composure.

"Where are we, people?"

"Every system is a go," Commander Chang reported. "Reactor nominal. All boards green."

"Helm?" King asked.

"Ready to go on your command," Banks replied.

"Good. Ensign Rayne, have we cleared permission with starbase control?"

Olivia Rayne turned around, holding the comm. piece in her ear. "Aye, Captain. We have clearance to cast off."

Jessica shifted in her seat. "Then you may take us out, Mister Banks."

"Aye," the helmsman said. His fingers graced the control boards of the console and the
Defiant
responded to his touch.

"Commander Greene, if you'd like to take your seat and clip yourself in. We wouldn't want you falling out of your chair," King advised.

The Commander took the jibe with grace and sat nearby. The thrusters came online, detectable by a soundless vibration underfoot. There was a slight jolt as the docking collars disengaged from the station. Lieutenant Banks backed the ship up until they had twenty metres clearance and then nudged her forward, tilting the nose up. Waking the engines, he took the
Defiant
up and away from the station in a sudden surge of energy.

"It wasn't strictly regulation," Jessica said. "But it was perfectly executed. Nice work."

"Thank you Captain," Banks said, suddenly aware that he'd narrowly avoided a reprimand – and perhaps on any other ship, under any other skipper, he might have gotten one.

On the viewscreen, now showing an aft view, they left the station rapidly behind them.

"Take us to full speed, Lieutenant," King ordered.

"Aye."

She turned to Chang. "Everything still as it should be? No anomalous readings?"

Commander Chang shook her head. "No change, Ma'am."

"Fine, then you may spool the Jump Drive, Lieutenant."

"Yes Captain," Chang said.

"Commander?" King asked Commander Greene down by the weapons station.

Greene got up to stand by her. "Our course is plotted."

"Well then, Lieutenant Banks, initiate the Jump," Jessica ordered.

The ship's primary pilot nodded his head, moved his hand to the Drive controls and eased the ignition lever forward. Within seconds the
Defiant
underwent the familiar shift of the Jump and they were travelling in a manner so unnaturally advanced and fast that to primitive minds it would have been akin to magic.

"Jump speed attained," Banks reported from the helm as the stars flew past.

Magic . . .
Jessica thought.

13.

Commander Greene found Dr. Gentry in the officer's mess, draining the last of a mint tea.

"Doctor Gentry?" he asked as he stood over the bespectacled man with greying hair.

"Yes?"

"I'm Commander Del Greene," he said and offered his hand. Doctor Gentry either dismissed the gesture or did not notice. He stood up, instead, and fetched his bags from the floor.

"Pleasure to meet you, Commander Greene. I am Doctor Gentry."

Greene cocked his head to one side, trying to figure out if the Doctor was toying with him, or genuinely forgetful.

Maybe the guy's mad,
he thought.
Maybe there's something wrong with him.

"Yes, I know that," Greene told him.

"Oh, good," Gentry said. "Don't you dislike introductions?"

"If you'll come with me, Doctor, I'll show you to your room."

Gentry shuffled along behind him as the Commander led him out of the mess hall. With his wild charcoal and silver hair, etched face and awkward gait, he looked like some kind of hospital outpatient.

"This is a nice ship," Gentry remarked. "The nicest I've been on."

"Yes. Have you been on many?"

Gentry shook his head. "None."

This is some kind of joke,
Greene thought.
Someone's having a laugh at our expense. Who
is
this crackpot?

"Well, you'll find the
Defiant
more than comfortable," Greene explained. "We've had dignitaries aboard many times. Never had any complaints."

"Yes, yes," Gentry said almost dismissively. Behind his glasses, big blue eyes flitted about as he took in the corridor they walked down, the signs on the walls, the overhead lights. "So, uh, what ship is this, d'you say?"

*

Dr. Clayton pressed a wad of cotton wool to the spot on Jessica's forearm where he'd just injected her.

"Now, you know this is only the second course," he explained to her. Nurse Shook stepped in and covered the area with a bandage. With medical science advanced as it was, cotton wool and bandages were still indispensable for any medical practitioner.

"Thank you," Jessica said.

"You're welcome," Shook said and walked off.

Clayton wrote something on his data tablet, then regarded her with his arms crossed. "How do you feel?"

Jessica shrugged. "Like myself, I suppose. I couldn't say I feel any different."

"That's the point. You're meant to feel normal. The only thing that'll happen is that, with luck, you won't ever feel the effects of the MS again. If my man back at the Havadi Medical Research is correct, it should push it into permanent remission. You won't even know you've got it," the Doctor explained.

"We'll see," she said sceptically.

"You're not an optimist, are you Jess?" Clayton asked her.

She shook her head. "Nope. A
realist
."

Clayton broke into a big smile. "I believe that's true. And you know what? You'd have made a swell Doctor yourself."

"Are you saying you don't believe in hope and prayer?" she asked him.

"Exactly that," he said. "Though in this case, I believe a little hope doesn't hurt."

"Thanks," Captain King said. She stood up from the edge of the hospital bed and got back into her uniform tunic. Her arm was sore from the jab, but if it all worked then it was definitely worth it.

"You're welcome, now get outta here. I'm a busy man. I've got one crew member with a distended anus and another with a broken toe," Clayton said, deadpan.

Even as she left the medical bay and headed down the corridor outside, Jessica couldn't stop giggling. And she'd not for one second thought to inquire as to how a member of her crew would end up with a distended anus. Some things were confidential, after all.