Far From Home: The Complete Series (21 page)

“I’m afraid not. I’ve come to talk about Lieutenant Swogger.”

Dunham hung his head. Looked down at his shoes. “I know what you’re going to say …”

Commander Greene rested a hand on the younger man’s shoulder.

“It’s all right, kid,” he said softly.

Dunham looked up. His eyes were wet, but he wasn’t crying. Not yet. Not in front of everyone. That would come later, Greene knew. As it may well come for him too.

“How did he die?” Dunham asked.

“A hero,” Greene said. “He gave his life so that we’d survive. I’ve never met a braver man.”

Dunham gave a silent nod.

“I need someone to fill the hole he’s left in his wake,” Greene said. “I thought you’d fit the bill perfectly. If you’re up for it.”

“I … uh … I don’t know what to …”

Greene laughed. “You don’t have to say anything, son, it’s taken care of. Just remember the big shoes you have to fill.”

“I will sir. Don’t sweat it. I won’t let you down.”

* * *

Captain Nowlan scratched the back of his head as he approached the door to the ambassador’s quarters. He nearly missed Selena Walker standing there.

“Oh. How yuh doin’?” he asked her.

“Fine. How’re you? I hear you saved all our lives,” she said.

Hawk shook his head. “No, Lieutenant Swogger was the hero today. I was just along for the ride.”

“Ah,” Walker said. She produced a bottle of something from behind her back.

“What’s that?” Hawk asked. He walked into his quarters. She followed behind.

“Whiskey. It’s from about twenty years ago. You might recognise the brand. Death’s Head,” she said.

Hawk couldn’t believe it. His favourite poison. “Where did you find it?” he asked her. He unloaded his things on the table in the middle of the room. He started to unzip his uniform. The door to his quarters whooshed shut.

Walker set the bottle down and stepped toward him. She unzipped him slowly, looking into his eyes.

“I got hold of it,” she said with a tap of her nose. “I have my methods.”

With a firm grasp she showed him that wasn’t all she had hold of.

Nowlan rolled his eyes. But he was smiling.

“I need a shower,” he said, almost doubtfully.

Selena fixed him with a devilish grin. Her hands went to his hips. “So do I …”

I could get used to this,
Hawk thought seconds before her mouth met his in a deep, passionate kiss. He ran his fingers through her hair. Closed his eyes.

Yessir.

He pulled back from her. A brief expression of confusion passed over her face.

“Come on, darlin’,” he said. She smiled.

He led her by the hand into the bathroom.

18.

The ship was quiet. From where she stood in the observation lounge, Jessica watched the last blue tendrils of the nebula recede out of view as the
Defiant
cruised into open space. Now they sailed a black velvet sea studded with diamonds.

The lounge was empty save for herself, and she’d decided to keep the lights off.

There was a sound behind her, and she turned her head in time to see Commander Greene walk in. The open doorway allowed a bright oblong of light to invade the quiet space before it closed again, restoring the tranquillity of the darkness.

“Commander,” she said in a low voice.

“They said I’d find you here,” Greene said. He stood on the other side of the huge window to the stars and leaned against the frame. He looked wistfully out at the cosmic vista drifting past their window. “Beautiful, isn’t it?”

She nodded slowly. “Yes. Yes it is.”

He drew a breath. “I sometimes think we don’t give enough time to just watching everything go by, you know? We’re so busy racing from star to star we don’t look at them anymore. Like we did centuries ago.”

“The astronomers of the old days had it made, didn’t they?” King said.

“Yeah, well, they weren’t being shot at left, right, and centre,” Greene quipped.

She couldn’t help but laugh, despite her solemnity. “I guess you have a point.”

The faint purr of the
Defiant’s
engines was the only other noise to accompany them in the dark. The stars, as always, were cold and silent.

Jessica closed her eyes. “I’ve been waiting for this. This … bit of peace.”

“Do you want me to go?” Greene asked her.

She opened her eyes again, smiled. “No. Stay.”

They walked to one of the long sofas that faced each window and sat.

“I was thinking of Swogger earlier. The resolve it must’ve taken to stay there and set that thing off. We owe him everything,” Greene said. He looked down at the floor.

“Yes we do,” Jessica said. “And more. It was a shame he cracked like that, before … but I guess we’re all under a lot of pressure.”

Greene said nothing.

“I, uh, asked Chang to go back through the sensor records of the explosion. Just to make sure,” Jessica said. “Moments before she blew, a ship escaped from the
Inflictor
. It was a fair size. I’d say something like a yacht.”

“Sepix?” Greene asked.

She shrugged. “I really don’t know. But my money would be on Carn. Possibly Carn and Sepix together, but either way definitely Carn.”

Greene sighed. “It never ends, does it?”

“No. I’m afraid not.” She looked out at the stars.
He’s out there … somewhere.

“So what are our plans now?” Greene asked her. “We can’t go home, that much is certain. Not unless we find a black hole that will take us back the way we came, and what’re the chances of that?”

Jessica had actually considered it. Although it probably wasn’t going to happen, they had to look for one anyway. There was a strong possibility there was something like that out there. And any chance - even one percent - was something. They’d have to keep their eyes peeled.

“We need to find our place out here. Who are the dominant powers in the galaxy? Where could we settle? If we encounter an advanced race, do they have star charts by which to locate another one of those black holes? These are the things we need to consider, Commander,” she said.

“And for now?”

Jessica looked up at the ceiling. It was hidden in the darkness.

“We keep going forward. It’s all we can do. Go forward until we come to something,” she said.

After a long pause, Greene said “Aye.”

* * *

Later, in her quarters, as she lay down to sleep Jessica’s thoughts turned to her conversation with Dr. Clayton.

“Doc, what is it?” she asked.

“Jessica, some months ago I had a visit from Captain Singh. He was concerned by a sudden numbness in his legs. He asked me to check it out,” Clayton said.

King urged him on.

“We ran some tests …” Clayton said. His eyes met with hers. “The tests revealed the early stages of Multiple Sclerosis. MS.”

She pulled the sheets up about herself and closed her eyes. In the solitude of her quarters, she thought about the last few weeks and all that had happened. The weight of it all seemed immeasurable. And now she had the knowledge of her Father’s true identity, and the illness he’d kept a secret from everyone.

But what if I have it too?
she asked herself.
What if I had what Singh -
Dad
- had?

She resolved to have Dr. Clayton run the tests as soon as possible. For all that she didn’t
want
to know if she had it, she knew she
must.
After all, she had a crew of hundreds to think about. But for now, she knew she must stop crying and get some sleep.

Tomorrow she would inform the crew of their new mission: find a way to get back home … 
or locate a new one.

PART FOUR

DIRECTIVE

The transmission repeated, over and over. Millennia passed. The nuclear heart of the ship continued to beat, however slowly, below the sands. The Captain’s words were broadcast through the metres of silicate that weighed the old wreck down, in the vaguest of hopes that somebody -
anybody
- might detect them.

And across the gulfs of time,
they
listened  …

1.

As he’d done in his own time, Hawk liked to walk the ship first thing in the morning. Although night and day were mere matters of timekeeping on board the
Defiant
, when he wandered the ship at such an early hour he felt a definite sense of one shift ending and another about to begin.

Hawk grabbed a cup of coffee in the mess. Every table was full to capacity. He decided to walk with it, and was already out in the hall when he felt a tap on his shoulder.

He turned around. “Yeah?”

An older man with grey stubble and a balding head stood in front of him.

“Sorry Captain Nowlan, I don’t want to interrupt -“

“Shoot, fella,” Hawk said.

The other man smiled. “You do not remember me.”

Hawk cocked his head to one side, looked him up and down. At first his mind was a complete blank. It took a second for something to rise from the depths of his memory. Vague, but it was there.

“Yuh face is familiar,” Hawk said.

The man nodded, a smile spreading on his lips. “My name is Stephen. We served together aboard the
Tiger
.”

Hawk shook the others hand, lost for words. He looked Stephen over again.

It can’t be,
he thought.
This old guy? It can’t be.

And yet he was reminded that although only days had passed for him, it had been fifty years for everyone else. Stephen was a replicant, and they were known to have a much longer life expectancy. It was, of course, entirely conceivable that Stephen was still around. He chided himself for being so naive.

“The
Tiger
! Yuh!”

Stephen beamed. “I’m so pleased. I wasn’t sure that you would.”

Hawk sipped his coffee. “I remember now,” he said. “You were there following the
Mestos
incident.”

Stephen nodded. “Yes. Back then I was part of the rescue operation … it seems like a lifetime ago, now.”

Hawk exhaled heavily. “Well, all that was only a couple of months ago for me. Right before my imprisonment on
Minich VI
.”

“Of course, sorry. I forgot about the time difference. And I recall the incident on Minich VI. The whole planet, wasn’t it?”

Hawk nodded.

Stephen looked away grimly. “A terrible business. And you were tortured weren’t you?”

Hawk waved him off. “Ah, it’s nothin’.”

The replicant brightened. “Well, I’d best be getting on. I’d been meaning to come and find you. Of course the whole ship’s still buzzing about you being aboard.”

Hawk shook his hand. “Thanks.”

“We’re having a gathering tomorrow in the main hall. It’s Marquis day.”

“Of course! Uh, maybe I’ll pop by,” Hawk said. “Are there many of yuh kind on the
Defiant
?”

“Over fifty I think. Yes, certainly, I’m sure everyone will be thrilled to have you turn up. And it won’t just be replicants attending, in case you were wondering.”

“Oh no, of course not,” Hawk said, and he meant it. The days of segregation between replicants and humans were long gone. His own Father had had a part to play in that  …

“Well, again, I’ll be seeing you,” Stephen said, anxious to get on.

“You too,” Hawk said and watched Stephen walk away before continuing his stroll.

Marquis day celebrated the success of the movement to see all replicants freed and accepted as equal to humans. He wondered how many of the ship’s own people would be in attendance.

He had an appointment with Dr. Clayton in two hour’s time. Before then he planned on speaking to as many head personnel as he could, to find out whether they were going. And if they weren’t planning to, he’d convince them. A living legend could be quite persuasive.

* * *

Commander Del Greene arrived early on the bridge. He found the night crew huddled around the science station.

“Hey,” he said, announcing himself. They all jumped and snapped to attention. He saluted back. “What’s up?”

Lieutenant LaPlante of the night shift stepped aside so that Greene could get a good look at the display. It showed readings of cosmic chatter: the sound of background radiation, distant quasars, the drumming of colliding nebulas. Such chatter was a galactic constant. However, there was something else.

“A signal?”

LaPlante nodded, slowly. “Yes sir, and it’s repeating at regular intervals. Definitely not a natural phenomenon.”

“Okay. Can you detect audio or visual? Or a data stream?”

“Not yet,” LaPlante said, “But we’re going to lock onto it, isolate it from everything else, and see if we can’t make out what it is.”

“Good work,” the Commander said. “Tell Chang and Boi when you hand over to the day shift.”

“Aye sir,” LaPlante said.

Greene sat down in the captain’s chair. “Okay everyone, let’s get back to work. Your relief won’t turn up for another half hour yet. And the computer will take a while to process that signal. Let’s get this bridge shipshape and ready for the day shift.”

* * *

“As far as I can tell, you’re in great shape,” Dr. Clayton said as Hawk stepped down from the treadmill. The doc had made him go from a steady walk to a light jog, to a full-on sprint. Hawk dabbed his face with a towel.

“Well, yuh sure as hell made me work up a sweat, that’s for sure.”

Clayton shrugged. “It’s what I’m here for,” he said dryly.

Hawk laughed, put his uniform top back on. Clayton turned to a console and added some notes to Hawk’s records. “You know, you’re the first patient of mine with a break in his medical history lasting fifty years. It seems strange to compare your blood pressure from fifty years ago and find it hasn’t changed.”

“Fine stock,” Hawk said with a cheesy grin.

“Hmm, maybe,” Clayton said doubtfully. He turned at the sound of the door whooshing open.