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

by Tony Healey

  "There. Take us over the rings," Chang said, pointing to the bands surrounding the gas giant. "Let's skim across them."

  "As you wish," the Ensign said, slowing them a little and adjusting their heading to accommodate. The Intrepid raced over the rings of the planet, the sun shimmering upon them as if they were bands of diamonds. "Captain, it's beautiful."

  "There's beauty to be found out here, Ensign," Chang said. "When you have occasion to look."

  She returned to the Captain's chair.

  "The Intrepid handled within parameters inside the gravity well of the planet," Dr. Gentry reported. "We felt very little of the drag expected at such an encounter."

  "That's what I hoped," Chang said. "Right, head for that sun, Ensign. Take us within an operable distance. It's no good riding a great horse if there's a chink in our armour."

  "Aye," Gordon said, increasing thrust once again.

  "You're wasting no time testing her out," Banks remarked.

  Chang shrugged. "We'd better know if there are any serious flaws before we head into the Cluster."

  On the viewscreen, the sun at the centre of the Bjud system drew closer, became bigger. It was a washed out green colour.

  "I would recommend going no closer than twenty percent greater than the recommended operable distance from that sun," Gentry advised. "It has started to contract, increasing its potency."

  "Understood. Take note of that, Ensign."

  "Yes Captain."

  "Approaching the sun now," Banks said.

  Gordon turned the Intrepid, angled her to the side so they would pass the sun and not fall directly into it.

  "And now," Gentry said. "We feel the sun's kiss."

  The viewscreen dimmed against the harsh glare of the green fireball.

  "Temperature of the hull about to exceed tolerance," Gentry said.

  Chang looked at Banks. "Raise the shield."

  "Captain, shall I alter our trajectory further?" Gordon asked.

  "No. Maintain present course."

  "Are you sure?" Ensign Gordon asked.

  "Yes," Chang said. "And don't question my orders."

  "Yes, Captain. Sorry."

  Dr. Gentry looked up from his readouts. "The energy shield is effective in holding the temperatures at bay. They are above tolerance, but the hull is managing well."

  "Just what I wanted to hear."

  "Passing the sun now," Banks reported.

  Gentry said, "Temperatures dropping."

  "She will do," Chang said with a smile. "Dana, lay in the co-ordinates for the Chimera Cluster."

  Dana worked. "Plotted."

  "Helm, spool the Jump Drive. The last thing to test."

  There was a noticeable whine from somewhere within the Intrepid as the greatest muscle she would ever use clenched, ready for use.

  "Captain?"

  Chang turned to look at Chief Kolvin. "Yes?"

  "You do realise her paint job was brand new?" he asked, a glint in his eyes.

  She couldn't help but let loose a little laugh. "Apologies, Chief. I'll be careful with her in future."

  "We're ready, Captain," Ensign Gordon reported.

  Here we go. No turning back now.

  "Make the Jump."

  The Intrepid leapt toward the stars.

  6.

  Normal space twanged back like an elastic band as the Spectre emerged from the Jump. The deep green swirls of the Thunder Reach Nebula provided a neutral backdrop to the slowly rotating superstructure that was Deep Space Supply Station Foxtrot. Several ships were moored around its circumference.

  "Standard procedure, Kay," Shaw ordered.

  "Yes sir," Kalar answered. The voice of the control officer aboard the station squawked from the speakers and the multilimbed alien made quick work of providing the station with a name and registry for the Spectre. It took a moment for the officer to run the name and number.

  "It all checks out. You are cleared for dock."

  Kalar navigated toward the nearest available bay, slowing the Spectre to match the rotational velocity of the station. Hooks connected with the underside of the Spectre to hold it in place. There was a slight jolt as the docking ring attached, then the airlock did the work of equalizing pressure between the two atmospheres so that they could safely pass from one to the other. Filtering units tested the air on Supply Station Foxtrot for any known viruses and pathogens.

  "Ready?" Ardai asked.

  "Let's do this," Shaw said, following his second-in-command off the bridge.

  They walked down the corridor toward the airlock. Ardai watched Shaw check his weapon. "I take it by your insistence we pack heat that you're not looking to take another ass whooping any time soon."

  "Damn straight," Shaw growled. "If I get set on again, there's only one thing they're getting. A hole above the neck where their head used to be."

  "Do you expect trouble on here, skipper?"

  They reached the airlock. "Don't know. I've just got that . . . gut feeling, I suppose."

  "All the more reason to take Barbie with us."

  He shook his head. "No. She'll draw attention. We need to play the part, get what we need, get out. Chances are they're still not here. But in any case, discretion is the key."

  "Right you are."

  Shaw slapped his hand against the control panel at the side of the airlock and it slid back, revealing the inside of the tube connecting them to the station. Ardai had noticed a darkness overshadow the Captain since they left Outland. Their mission, and their motivation in seeing it through, visibly weighed on him.

  "Will–"

  "Sir?"

  Shaw's face was dark. "Whoever ordered these hybrid soldiers, then had them destroyed is behind the plot against Captain King and . . . and the assassination of Admiral Grimshaw. Those two were onto something, I feel it. It's the only reason the Admiral was killed. And the only reason she had to go into hiding. Our answers are here, Will, one way or the other."

  Ardai nodded, once. There was nothing to say. Shaw headed through the airlock and Will followed.

  * * *

  "And you're from who?"

  Captain Shaw shifted on his feet. "Star Marshal's office," he lied. "I already showed you my badge."

  "I wasn't told you were coming," Commander Wilson said, eyeing them both suspiciously.

  "We don't make a habit of announcing ourselves," Shaw said. "Mainly because we don't have to. Now are you going to make me get a warrant for the entire station?"

  Wilson swallowed. "There's no need for threats."

  "Yes there is," Ardai said. "You're holding up our investigation, Commander. Marshal Peace and I are tracking two extremely violent and deadly criminals. If they're here, and you're stopping us from doing our goddamn job, then there's a problem. A big one. You're obstructing the course of justice."

  The Commander went white. "No, no, no. Please, gentlemen, I meant nothing by it."

  Shaw laid a hand on Ardai's shoulder. "Marshal, I think the Commander is coming around."

  "Good," Will spat, laying it on.

  "I just have to be careful is all. There's a lot of sensitive information in these files," Wilson said.

  Shaw laughed, breaking the tension in the Commander's tiny office. "We're no strangers to sensitive files, Commander. Do you have coffee here? The Marshal and I can get started. We want to be in and out. We don't want to get in your way."

  "Sure! Sure! I'll go get some."

  Ardai had already taken Commander Wilson's chair at his desk. He quickly accessed his computer terminal. He looked up. "I take mine black."

  The Commander nodded, then scurried from the office leaving them to their work. When he was sure the Commander had gone, Shaw couldn't help but laugh. "Damn, Will. I thought our cover was blown."

  "He knows Star Marshal's don't answer to anyone. Let alone a poor sap like him."

  "Wilson's not a bad man," Shaw said, taking a seat as Will worked. "Just part of the system is all."

  "Unlike us
, out on the fringes," Ardai said. "Ah, here we are. Just looking now through the logs of every ship that's docked here . . . there!"

  Shaw sprang up, looked over Will's shoulder at the screen. "XB136. When did it leave here?"

  If they could determine where it had been heading, the trail was still hot . . .

  "It hasn't."

  "Huh?"

  Will smiled. "It's still here, skipper. Moored at docking bay twelve."

  Shaw slapped him on the back. "Good work."

  * * *

  By the time Commander Wilson returned, carrying two cups of coffee, the two Star Marshal's were already gone. He checked the general data display to see if their ship was still docked.

  It was.

  Hopefully not for long, he thought. I didn't like those two guys.

  There'd been a new arrival in the time it had taken him to fetch the coffee. A small ship, small enough to land in the hangar beneath the station. Commander Wilson ran the registry, didn't get any hits or warnings from it. He shrugged and turned back to his work. He had two cups of good coffee to help him through it.

  7.

  XB136 was several minutes' walk away. Ardai contacted the Spectre, speaking into the comm. device on his wrist.

  "Barbie, you there?"

  "Here."

  "Meet us at bay twelve. Bring Punk, too, if he's up for it."

  "Understood. Spectre out."

  Shaw glanced left and right. His hand rested on the weapon strapped to his hip.

  "Tell me, Will, why did you say I was Marshal Peace?"

  Ardai shrugged. "Popped into my head."

  "I don't know . . ."

  "What? The Commander didn't ask my name. I was going to say it was War. Then we'd be War and Peace. Surely, the coolest name for a dynamic duo such as ourselves."

  Shaw shook his head in disbelief. "Seriously, Will, I don't know whether you're being serious sometimes."

  "Neither do I."

  They reached bay twelve. Still no sign of Barbie or Punk, but Shaw wasn't about to wait. He checked that the coast was clear, then accessed the security panel next to the airlock. He entered the skeleton key code that would allow him access to any ship on the station – unbelievably the code was the same for all stations, and a closely guarded secret. There were, possibly, only a dozen or so men and women who knew it. But there were no secrets beyond the reach of Shadow Force.

  The dial on the front of the panel spun around, turned green, then beeped. The airlock opened for them to access the ship.

  "Weapons out," Shaw said.

  "Check. Do we wait for Punk and Barbie?"

  Shaw had already crossed the threshold. "Negative," he said sternly, all business now. He took his gun off the safety, held it at the ready. "Cover me."

  * * *

  Will knew the configuration of the vessel; it was familiar to him the moment he and Shaw breached the inside. An older model – a Z5 class cargo ship. Red strip lighting illuminated the airlock, with a pressure door facing them, giving access to the rest of the ship.

  "Stay close," Shaw ordered. "Shoot to stun."

  "Right," Ardai adjusted the setting on his gun to comply with the order. When fired, it would emit a ghostly white beam of energy that would render its target unconscious.

  Shaw opened the pressure door; it creaked on its hinges, louder than either of them would've liked. He stepped inside, covering all angles, treading carefully. Will followed suit, checking the same spots Shaw had, just to be sure. Nothing that end of the ship. Z5's had their airlock at the rear of the vessel – the advantage of having engines mounted on struts beneath the ship.

  A steady hum came from the reactor, a broken light buzzed and clicked in the ceiling. Something dripped, steadily, somewhere. A broken pipe, perhaps. Ardai followed Captain Shaw along a passageway. They emerged into a large open space, filled with cargo containers of varying sizes. Pools of light cut through the dank darkness in there, but did little to fully illuminate the cargo bay.

  Something joined the general ambient noises within the ship. It was unmistakable.

  Human speech.

  Too low to discern what was being said, but it was undeniably human. Somewhere farther ahead, past the haphazard array of storage containers and crates. Shapes moving. Shadows.

  Will looked at Rick Shaw for the nod. He gave it. Will cut left, Shaw to the right. They came around the jumble of cargo, weapons aimed at the hulking forms standing together whispering. The light did not hit their faces, but it showed the rest of them in enough detail. They were over six feet tall, pale skinned, completely bald. Muscles bigger, more defined, than any Will had ever seen on a man. As Will and Shaw presented themselves, the two hybrids' heads snapped about.

  "Stay where you are!" Shaw yelled.

  The two soldiers looked at one another, something passing between them that did not need words. Will tensed, knowing they were about to try something. Shaw didn't wait.

  He fired his gun at the one closest him, the stun beam enveloped the hybrid in a faint cocoon of energy, then dissipated.

  No effect.

  "Oh, crap!" Will said, backing off, fumbling with the gun to set it higher.

  Shaw looked at his own weapon as if it had sprouted wings and horns. He looked up as the hybrid he'd shot barrelled into him, sending him flying across the hangar, into a plastic container that shattered inward as he hit it. The hybrid on Will's side lunged for him, he sidestepped out of the way, managed to level his gun before the giant knocked the weapon clear out of his hand.

  It grabbed the front of his clothes, lifted him clear off the ground, held him high. Was about to make him one with a nearby bulkhead when an energy weapon discharged behind them all, striking it clear in the chest. The flesh there melted away with a sizzling sound leaving a ruinous hole. The hybrid dropped him, then dropped to the floor itself, dead.

  Will spun around, head reeling, and saw Punk standing next to Barbie, a rifle at the ready. The remaining hybrid made for the exit, grabbed Punk's rifle as he was about to fire it, flicking it away into the shadows. Barbie grappled with the giant soldier, the two of them roughly the same shape and size, both grunting with the effort of holding back the other.

  Shaw got to his feet, staggered, then regained his balance. He looked at the dead hybrid on the floor, saw Will looking the worse for wear. He watched as Barbie wrestled the surviving hybrid – and even for a Mantipor it was a struggle.

  Shaw raised his gun. "Stop!"

  The two continued to struggle. Shaw fired into the ceiling over the hybrid's head. That brought everything to a halt.

  "I don't want to kill you, but I will if I have to."

  Now he saw it's face. It was a man, just a man. Heavily built, bred, and trained for battle. The hybrid's skin was white, entirely without hair. Not even eyebrows. In that respect, he looked alien. And yet . . . the eyes were the same as any man Shaw had ever come across.

  "Please. Stop. Don't make me do it."

  The hybrid appeared to understand at first, then it threw itself back against Barbie, causing the Mantipor to stumble for a moment. It was enough to grant the hybrid an escape route. Shaw shot at it as it fled, the energy beam sizzling against the wall and missing the hybrid. It dove out the door.

  "Come on!" Punk yelled, leading the pursuit.

  Shaw looked at Will. "Stay here. Preserve the evidence."

  "But–"

  "No time to argue! Barbie, you're with me!"

  "Yes boss," the Mantipor said.

  With that, Will was left on his own as the other three pursued the fleeing hybrid. He looked around. What had been a scene of complete chaos seconds before was now quiet. The air smelled of discharged weapons, burnt metal, and there was a dead hybrid on the deck with a hole in his chest.

  "Great."

  8.

  The pale giant burst out onto the walkway, knocking two station crew out of the way. Punk led the pursuit, his weapon held at the ready. Shaw followed close behind, Barbie at his side.


  Punk fired the stun beam, it struck the bulkhead above the hybrid. It ducked, glanced back, and cut to the left, down a long corridor.

  "Don't lose him!" Shaw yelled, already feeling the burn from running so fast. He would've been the first to admit he didn't get as much exercise as perhaps he should.

  "Don't worry about us," Barbie chuckled, slinging her weapon from her shoulder and taking a pot-shot at the hybrid. It went wild and missed by a mile. "You worry about catching a breath."

  "Funny," Shaw puffed. "For a girl, that is."

  "Ouch."

  Punk skidded to a halt. He unclipped a grenade from his belt, bit the pin off of it and threw the projectile in a wide arc. It bounced in front of the white goliath before he could get to another junction. He stopped, looked down at the grenade, then it exploded in a shower of white fizz. The thing threw its hands up to protect its face, but it was too late. The stun grenade worked instantly.

  If the hybrid proved impervious to a regular stun beam, the same was not true of a stun grenade.

  It dropped to the deck like a dead fish, eyes dilated and wide.

  Punk laughed, holstering his weapon and approaching the fallen hybrid with the casual demeanour of someone taking a stroll on the shore. "Leave it to little ole me."

  "I'll be damned," Shaw said. "Get him bound, Barbie. We don't want him getting loose on the way to the ship. I just hope that cell's gonna hold him."

  "It'll hold him," she snarled. "Or I'll break both his legs."

  Shaw ensured his weapon was back on the safety. "Just what I like. A lady who knows how to play rough."

  A blinding red flash of light burst all around him. His ears rang. Shaw clutched his head, staggered to the side. He hit the wall, felt his feet slip out from under him, dropped to the deck, then all was blackness.

  * * *

  Will didn't often go against a direct order, but on this particular occasion, he couldn't just stay on the ship with the dead body while the rest of the team hunted down the remaining hybrid. He cocked his gun and followed the sound of weapons fire, then the undeniable report of a stun grenade going off. Will ignored the shocked looks of station personnel as he sprinted past, headed toward the commotion rather than away from it.