FicWad

- Traders' World -

--Narayan--

19

In Space:

The shuttlecraft Narayan drew itself into position under cover of a gas cloud and began running the first of many scans. From the exterior, there was nothing to give away the shuttle's existence, its surface unlit, the warp nacelles dark and lifeless. Inside, the cockpit too was in darkness with the only light being that from the glowing instrument panels.

The trip from the Rutherford had so far been a silent one. Neither Xander nor the captain, who insisted on being called Dave, had spoken a word. Xander wasn't sure if it was against the rules or whatever. The only sound there was came from the comical chirps of the computer in front of them.

Xander glanced around. A rack on the wall behind Freeman housed a set of rifles.

Those are the laser guns! Xander noted.

And there was the smell. It was like being in someone else's car for the first time. He thought to himself that they must have great cleaning methods. It smelled brand-new. Xander rested back in his seat. /These Starfleet guys certainly have the right idea/, he thought. /These chairs are really comfy. /Comfortable physically that was. But nothing could ease his mental discomfort.

Space.

That was about all there was to see from where he was sat. A tranquil and wondrous view of heaven.

Or...

Cold, airless vacuum of utter void.

/Damn it. /He tried to imagine he was Sinclair. Or Sheridan. /You never saw /them crapping themselves on Babylon 5.

But it never worked. Reality was just too damned real. He could have continued admiring the view, but chose instead to watch Freeman work. Or, rather, he preferred to distract himself from the view outside. The light from the console shone onto the captain's face and highlighted his beard. Man, the guy has a thick beard.

Xander scratched at the edges of his own newly styled facial hair. Though it was still more stubble than beard, the edges were much more prominent against his smooth skin. He had Dan Oom to thank for that, of course. Only now, it was at that troublesome itchy phase. But it was worth it for Anya. All for Anya. A fact he'd reminded her of when telling her that he was breaking his earlier promise not to leave her so that he could come on this little expedition. He'd noticed also that she'd been much less interested this time around when Chevva Swift had given them the ambassadorial tour of the ship.

Xander laughed inwardly. Chevva had seemed more eager to show them his mixing decks than anything else. DJ Chevva Swift - devoted to early 21st century dance, rap and R&B classics. Xander had remarked: "That stuff's a little after my time."

And there had been the Galley - Rutherford's equivalent to Ten-Forward. There had been a strange magnetic dartboard, a nine-ball pool table, and a number of more alien games underway there. Not at all like the Enterprise. He found it much more suited to his own taste. He'd already signed up for the pool tournament and offered to repair Hoop's 3-legged antique coffee table.

Captain Freeman finished inputting commands and at last broke the long silence: "How are you finding the Rutherford after your time on the Enterprise? I trust that everyone's made you feel welcome."

Xander came back into the moment. "Yeah. Everyone's been fine. I can see why your crew enjoys serving on the good ship Rutherford. It's a pretty relaxed place to work."

"I like to think so. The way I see it; the more relaxed people are, the more comfortable they are with just being themselves. And, hence, the more comfortable I am with my crew." He checked his screen then continued: "Speaking of which... I know I don't know you very well, Harris, but I can't help feeling that you're not entirely comfortable with things as they are. Would I be wrong in assuming that you're not feeling quite yourself these days?"

Xander imagined himself as a book opened to the middle pages. "Is it that obvious?"

"I am fairly observant when it comes to human behaviour," Freeman boasted. "Plus it helps to have a telepathic science officer."

"Those pesky Zoanoids."

Dave chuckled, then went on to say: "This is none of my business, but... may I ask? What were you really doing the night your friends closed the Hellmouth?"

Xander closed up quite physically. "That was a long time ago. And it's not one of my happiest memories."

"I understand, Xander. If there's one thing I don't discuss, it's my past. Not even with Vaun or Hoop. You can't be proud of everything you've done in your life, you know. And the respect of my peers and crew are far more important to me than my life before Starfleet."

"You weren't born in Starfleet?" Xander said with alarm.

Smiling, Dave quickly replied: "Starfleet's not some religious sect or separate species. It is the eyes and ears of the Federation, and its military wing. It isn't something you're born into. You have to join. If you can pass the difficult entrance exam."

Oh

"I wasn't even born on a Federation planet."

Xander was quite surprised by what he was hearing. He'd assumed that the Federation/Starfleet was a self-contained 'superior' society.

He dared to ask: "So... what made you join?"

Freeman eyed the young man and weighed him up thoughtfully. It might just be worth taking a chance and trusting him. After all, wasn't it true that you must first give in order to receive? "I... grew up in a colony on Venus-Three," Dave explained. "I think the original idea was to see how a human civilisation would develop on a less than perfect world. I think it's safe to say it was a failure. And things have been steadily getting worse there ever since. I'll say this for the place; there was never any need for a universal translator there. It was the kind of environment where money talked. I had to start earning as soon as I could, so I worked as a technician from the age of twelve. I found a tech job working for a shady character who built freighters from parts of scrapped ships. They went on to be sold by a Ferengi to unsuspecting customers."

"Ringing," Xander called it.

"It wasn't exactly an honourable job by any means. But it was a living. Trouble was, on Venus-Three, there were many rival businesses. And some of them didn't have a problem with getting violent. It got to be a dangerous place to live. Without money to pay for protection, you were in big trouble. Don't get me wrong, I was no saint myself. Got in a fair few fights. But, in the end, I had to get out. ...So, I saw Starfleet as the perfect fix. No money worries and no need to watch your back every second." He looked at Xander. "I know what you're thinking. Not the best reason to join, right? Looking back, I'd have to agree. But I went in for the test anyway ... and failed miserably. That was a rude-awakening, I can tell you. I hadn't realised how hard it would be. This was only twelve years ago. Four years and three more exams later, I passed. It took a whole year of pure study to get there. But, as soon as I hit the academy, I was bit by the bug. Once I was assigned in space, I rose up the ranks quickly." He stopped to give the sensor display a brief perusal before continuing: "I only became a captain so quickly by chance, really, when I was made acting-captain during our war with the Dominion. At the time, vessels and crew were stretched thin and, when both my captain and his first officer were killed in battle, I took command for the remainder of the mission. I was a lieutenant commander - the highest-ranking bridge officer left standing. But things were so tight that Starfleet kept me on as acting-captain for our final Dominion conflict. I like to think that my performance impressed them enough that Starfleet made me a full captain. But the war took its toll on our resources. They needed all the decent captains they could find after that. So, I jumped a rank there. And a year ago I was given the Rutherford." Dave went back to his work on the scans.

Xander looked at the man next to him with a whole new perspective. "Your family must be proud of you now," he said.

Dave didn't look up. "Venus-Three isn't that kind of society," he answered. "Families don't really have a function there. You're pretty much left to fend for yourself from birth."

At that moment, Xander came to a realisation. That was why Freeman treated his crew like family! "Aah. I see," he said.

Freeman looked back at him and something in the way he'd spoken convinced Dave that Xander really did see. Perhaps he'd given too much away. Well, it was too late to take it back now, so maybe he could get something in return. "What about you?" the Captain asked, treading gently. "Did something happen that night that you're not proud of? Weren't you there for your friends when they needed you?"

Xander took his time to consider his response, or whether to give one, before reluctantly admitting: "Well... I was there. But not with them. I...I just stopped a zombie kid from blowing the school up with a home-made bomb."

"Then... what you're saying is... you saved your friends?"

"If the bomb had gone off it would have killed us all, and the Hellmouth would have opened up."

Freeman sat back and eyed him thoughtfully. "So, what you really did was save the world? You must have got some big-time respect for that stunt."

"Actually... no-one knows. Well, except you. I...I never told anyone."

"Why the hell not?"

"It just didn't seem that big a deal at the time. I wasn't the only one who saved the world that night."

Freeman paused in awe and recalled: "They say... the true measure of a hero... is when he risks his own life to save others, knowing that they will never be aware of his bravery."

"Yeah, I heard something similar on an episode of the Twilight Zone. The one with Michael Dorn."

He was making light of it.

"Seriously, Harris. To be a hero without the desire for acknowledgement or reward... that's amazing. Not a lot of people could bear to let that kind of heroism go unrecognised. I know I couldn't. That makes you more of a man than I could ever be."

Xander felt a sudden gush of pride with that.

Dave turned his attention back to the readouts just in time to see something appear on short-range sensors. His breath caught and slowly he let his eyes raise up to the window in disbelief.

Xander saw the concern on the captain's face and looked out also.

Something massive and ominous shimmered into existence before them.

The two men's faces were caught in fear by the light from the controls beneath them.

Bird of Prey!

Its wings were already locked down to attack, and she let loose a volley of green cannon fire. The shuttle rocked violently and tilted.

Freeman jumped on the helm controls. "Buckle-up!" he warned as he began to turn them around.

Xander dug his fingers into the side of his seat for purchase and discovered the clasps of a belt were built into the chair. He pulled out the straps and fastened them tightly around his waist.

Dave spun them about and drove them out from under the shadow of their attacker.

Shots of plasma energy passed them on either side and struck the rear of the shuttle with force. The shields of the Narayan strained with every blow that shook them.

"Hold on!" Freeman called. "We're taking a pounding."

"No kidding," Xander muttered, and tightened his belt.

Freeman cut hard to the left to avoid a cloud pocket. He tried to level the field a little by firing both phaser banks at the enemy, before readjusting their course. The Bird's defences held.

Their aft shields were already failing when a direct spread of cannon fire pierced through to the hull. The small shuttle was shunted forward.

"Damn it! Our shields are down!" Freeman programmed a straight heading and concentrated on obtaining a decent firing position on the Bird. Both phaser banks were locked. He watched for an opportune moment to fire them.

The Bird of Prey dropped its shields.

Perfect.

He fired.

But, by the time the phaser beams reached their target, the Bird of Prey had taken evasive manoeuvres and the energy beams sailed across her belly into the void.

A fizzle sound arose in the cabin behind them, and Xander was the first to react. He swivelled around to find a figure materialising at the rear of the cockpit.

Xander saw the rifle rack and shot up from his chair. But the belt caught his waist and snapped him back. He groaned and unbuckled himself, letting the belt slide back into the sides of the seat. When he reached the rack, he found that the weapons were each locked in place. He unhooked the catch that held one, pulled it free and turned with it to find...

Klingon zombie! Right in front of his face!

Xander yelped and tumbled back into his seat. The monster came forward, groping for him. He regained his strength of purpose, lifted the rifle and braced the butt against his shoulder, expecting it to kick. The futuristic gun felt odd in his hands. /At least the trigger is in the right place/, he thought as he took aim and fired.

A ball of energy shot from the weapon and hit the zombie in the chest, absorbing into its body. The thing was knocked back by the impact, but recovered quickly.

Xander panicked as he fiddled with the strange weapon. "I need to vaporise it!"

Freeman abandoned the Conn momentarily to take the rifle from him. He reset it quickly, dropped it back in Xander's lap and spun back to work the helm controls.

The beast was already on top of Xander when he brought the rifle up and butted it into the face of the zombie. It tilted back and he kicked out - pushing it far enough away that he could bring the gun into firing position.

The creature recovered in time to see the barrel of the phaser rifle aimed for its head. It seemed to understand in that moment what was to become of its fate and Xander thought it seemed a much less frightening creature because of that.

"Boo," he said, then fired. He watched as the zombie burned away before him. With a great sigh, he sat back in his chair feeling a flood of relief.

Until the captain spoke: "It's not over yet, pal."

Dave piloted with one hand so that he could take Xander's wrist in the other and plant it on the console. "I'm gonna need you to take over the weapons so I can fly," he said hastily.

"I can't-"

"Don't worry. I've set it to automated targeting. Just watch for the computer finding a lock; then hit the red button. Easy. Blow them into another dimension." With that, Freeman went back to the helm.

Xander stared for a long time at the small screen beside his left hand. On it was a grid showing the form of the attacking vessel. There were numbers that continually changed, which he didn't understand, and there was a circle of blue that searched across the screen. It moved left to right and back, until it found the vessel and stopped. The target turned red and a warning beep sounded from the computer.

Damn! He looked down to where his hand lay and located the red button. Without hesitating, he hit it.

However, by the time he had sighted the red button and fired, the lock had been lost and the phasers missed their mark wide. Xander cursed himself and vowed to be quicker next time. He kept his finger at the ready. All he needed now was another lock.

Freeman pulled the shuttle as close as he dared to the nearest cloud and banked around it hoping that the disturbance would interfere with their attacker's sensor-lock. Hopefully the Narayan's enhanced sensors would be more resilient.

Unfortunately, it had little effect as the Klingon ship persisted in firing wildly in their general direction, and many of their shots were connecting.

Xander fired several more shots; the last two clipping the wing of the enemy ship. Though, without better understanding of these computers, he had no way of knowing how much damage he'd managed to do. He couldn't make head nor tail of the displays.

But Dave could. And what he saw was not encouraging. Even with his piloting skills, they were out-gunned and out-matched. He decided to do the only thing left that he could. He would have to send an SOS to the Rutherford and hope that he'd be able to avoid destruction until they arrived.

But the enemy had no intention of facing a starship.

The instant the Narayan's communications array came online, the Bird of Prey adjusted its tractor emitter, and blasted the shuttle with a reverse tractor beam.

The cabin lurched madly as though a huge wagon had suddenly ploughed right into the shuttle. They rolled and tumbled through space into a blanket of purple mist. The world spun for them as, all about Freeman and Xander, the walls of the cabin were bursting with sparks and explosions. Fire broke out and burned at their hands and faces.

Slowly, the spinning lessened. Freeman managed to straighten them out a little. The lack of sensor information apparently did not deter the Bird, as great bolts of green plasma soared by them on all sides. The helm suddenly sparked in fits, and Dave cried for Xander to get back. Both men rushed to abandon their posts as a burst of flame erupted from the console - knocking them suddenly to the carpet.

The shuttlecraft Narayan gradually drew to a halt within the depths of the ionised cloud.

*

In clear space, the Bird of Prey managed at last to get a rough lock on their target through the ionised gas, and prepared to finish them off.

*

Unknown to the enemy, there was another shuttle. A smaller craft from the Rutherford had tracked the emissions from the Bird's rickety engines. It slipped through the surrounding gas formations from behind the Klingon scoutship and hit it with multiple phaser-fire as it ran an aggressive fly-by.

As the shuttle came about for another pass, the Bird fired a spread of torpedoes followed immediately by a series of disruptor blasts. The small craft flew into the minefield of oncoming weapon-fire, taking a heavy beating that knocked her off-course. Her own attack was made sloppy by this loss of control, and her phasers did not meet their target.

The craft did not retaliate after that. She continued on like a car out of control.

The enemy chose not to chance another encounter, and the Bird caught hold of the shuttle with its tractor beam and swung the tiny vessel across space - releasing it into the gas cloud where it would be no threat.

The Klingon Bird of Prey prepared one last time to blow both of its victims out of space... But stopped suddenly. It instead turned quickly away from the Starfleet shuttles, as if mysteriously called away. As it went, moving fast, its wings levelled out into the flight position and its travel-worn green surface rippled into transparency.

It left behind a deathly quiet.

*

The smaller shuttlecraft drifted through the cloud and came to rest near to the Narayan.

*

Freeman pulled himself up off the deck with an extinguisher from beneath one of the consoles.

After putting out the fires, he went back to check that Harris wasn't badly hurt.

Xander came around to find Captain Freeman at the front of the cabin.

As he moved back to a terminal at the rear of the cockpit he saw that Xander had come-to. "Fast work back there, Soldier."

Xander picked himself up and planted himself back in his seat, which was now a little cooked. "Soldier?"

"It's the way you hold a phaser. Like you've done it before. You've never been in the military?"

"No. Well, kinda, this one time. For a night."

"Must've been a hell of a night."

"You could say that." Xander scanned the wrecked cabin and felt his heart slowly sink in his chest. "We're in trouble aren't we?"

"Yeah," the captain sighed. "We're pretty much hanging on by a micron here. We've lost almost everything." He tried to think. "Somehow we have to contact the Rutherford. We've lost propulsion and I can't get the life-support systems back online. If they come back, we're a sitting duck."

Suddenly they stopped.

Freeman's legs turned numb as panic struck him.

It dawned on them that there was a faint sound of hissing nearby, and it gradually grew louder. Both of them closed their eyes. Freeman tried hard to think, whereas Xander was having trouble just getting his brain to function in any capacity. He certainly didn't want to ask what the sound meant.

A quick working of buttons on the internal diagnostic monitor confirmed Freeman's fear. "We've got a sub-microscopic hull-breach in here," he reported gravely, glancing around as if to sight its location.

"B-breach? What-? ...I mean; what's-?"

"I'm trying to divert what power we do have to set up a forcefield around it."

Xander felt a lot better at that. At least there was something Dave could do about it.

However, when he tried, the result was exactly what Freeman had expected. There simply wasn't enough power left in the Narayan to sustain a forcefield.

Xander saw Dave shake his head as the hissing continued to intensify. He almost thought he could feel a draft at his feet.

The captain stood and began to pace, clicking his fingers as he tried to think. "We have to plug that hole before it gets big enough to turn this ship inside-out."

Xander sat in panicked paralysis.

A few long seconds later, Freeman snapped his hands together. "Got it! We need to jury-rig a hull plate! Quickly, come with me." With that, Freeman shot into the rear cabin; followed eagerly by Xander.

Dave led him into the back of the shuttle where he went to work ripping panels from the wall to get at the insulation jacketing that surrounded a power-transfer conduit. After asking Xander to get him a laser-cutter from the engineering locker, Freeman cut out a small segment of the jacket. He took it back into the cockpit where he welded it over the microscopic hole with a tiny type-1 personal phaser.

Once that was secure, he went back to the working terminal and ran another diagnostic. He closed his eyes and let out a breath.

That didn't bode well in Xander's eyes.

They'd lost valuable air through the breach, and Dave decided to keep that fact to himself for the moment. He went on to do the only thing he could do. He took what little power the shuttle had left and poured it into one single momentary burst from the sensor arrays. He hoped to God that it reached out of the cloud. He hoped too that it reached one of their vessels. He also hoped that such a vessel would detect the scan and come to their rescue.

Just these three things he hoped for.

/Just give me three wishes/, he thought. But he knew already that the 1st wish was unlikely, that the 2nd was highly improbable, and that the 3rd was most definitely impossible.

"Strap yourself in, Xander," he advised as he initiated the sensor pulse.

As the Narayan sent out a sweep of information-gathering energy, Freeman's console suddenly blinked out. A moment later, it flashed back on long enough for him to read the results before it went offline altogether. That was it. No power.

A sudden sensation came over the two men in the cockpit. As though a pressure they didn't even realise was pushing on them had just been lifted. Out of instinct, Xander gripped onto his seat as he felt himself drifting away from it. But his belt, which he tightened, held him secure.

"You okay?" Freeman asked him.

"I think I'm feeling the gravity of the situation," he replied. "Pun intended."

There was a moment of deathly silence.

"Are you afraid to die, Harris?"

Xander went cold. "Afraid?/ /...No. More like... petrified."

"Good," Freeman noted. "Today could be you're lucky day."

Xander almost choked. "But ... we're trapped. Aren't we?"

Freeman pointed out the windscreen. Through the purple-red mist, Xander saw another drifting ship inside the cloud.

"That's the /Hannigan/. She's sustained minimal damage...but her crew must be down if she's still drifting."

"Can't you get them to respond...on the radio?" asked the Scoob.

"Not in this cloud. Besides, They're probably hurt. Or dead."

"I don't get it," Xander admitted. "What can we do?"

Freeman pulled himself across to the pilot seat next to Xander, which worried him even more. "We have no power. The air in this cabin is all we have to live on...and in about ten minutes, it's going to run out. Then we die. So, we have to get to the Hannigan now/. We can power her up and take her out of the cloud. Then we can get a message to the Rutherford. Do you understand? We /must get to that shuttle."

Xander couldn't see where Freeman was going with this. "...How?"

"There is a way, Xander... but you're not going to like it."

Xander stopped breathing.

"How would you feel if I was to say to you ... /E.V.A/.?"

No... Xander turned in his chair and stared out into space. That was like ... extra vehicular something or other. That meant going OUTSIDE.

Dave leant in closer. "You're going to have to put on a spacesuit."

/Outside ... with nothing but a fishbowl and a fancy frock for protection. How can these people live so casually in space? /The only other place Xander could think of that was as diarrhoea -inducingly dangerous was deep in the ocean. Or Sunnydale.

"We don't have any other options," Freeman added.

Xander realised he must have nodded when Freeman patted his shoulder and said: "Okay. Let's go."