Buck Rogers in the 25th Century: Far Beyond the World

Part II - Back to Square One

On the extreme outskirts of the Sol Star System...

Their hulls painted an angry orange, the quartet of fearsome-looking Draconian Hatchet-Fighters soared across the blackened depths of space toward the rapidly approaching star cruiser, and as one squadron they unleashed their missiles upon her, then split from each other, breaking into two pairs which banked away in opposite loops, so as to avoid the coming detonation.

Onboard the Earth starship, her burly commander shot to his feet, eyes wide, "Raise Defence Shield!"

"Raised, Admiral!" shouted the dark-skinned Tactical Officer in reply.

"Evasive maneuvers!"

"Sir! It's too late!"

"I don't care, Lieutenant! DO IT!"

"But-"

"No time!" shouted Hawk from the back of the Bridge.

"Everybody!" growled William 'Buck' Rogers, the ship's acting First Officer, "Brace yourselves!"

And grabbing Col. Wilma Deering, Buck threw himself hard to the left, slapping up against the nearest bulkhead and pulling the two of them down into a crouch.

A moment later the first pair of Draconian missiles impacted with Searcher's forward energy barrier. They DETONATED in twin fiery blasts of devastating orange power that formed into one cascading energy wave that ripped into the shield and tore it down within less then two seconds, leaving the hull completely unprotected.

And then the second pair of missiles roared in and struck! BOOOM! BAAA-BOOOOM!

Searcher shook and rocked, hull plating flew and two decks were torn open and exposed to the vacuum of space, crewmen went hurtling out into the black as crackling energy flames pounded the exterior of the ship and backlashed into her internal systems, causing massive overloads throughout the vessel.

The aft-facing Plasma Engines were the first Primary System to be affected and within seconds they overloaded, knocking Searcher out of her forward flight and sending her banking madly to starboard.

Down in the Propulsion Deck, people were thrown in all directions! As the Plasma Reactor that took up half the massive chamber pulsed one final time then winked out, screaming Engineers went hurtling past it's hulking machinery, slamming into walls and the ceiling, bouncing off the grilled deck like ten-pins. The Chief himself hurtled down the tilting floor, hands madly scrambling for a purchase that wouldn't come, then he struck the Master Control console head-first, tearing flesh from his skull and knocking himself out cold...

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Three levels above in the his private lab, Dr. Goodfellow was strapped into the only chair anchored to the deck, and he stared about him in wonder as gear and equipment rattled across the floor, piling up in a mess on the starboard side, the more fragile pieces shattering and breaking apart. The older man winced at the awful noise, which he could barely hear now over rising howl of the hull plating as the ship hurtled out of control through space around him.

"By Tartarus! By Tyr! What the devil is happening?" he gripped the armrests with all his strength and wondered if the trip beyond his home system had actually been worth it, if he was only to die within seconds of returning, before he could pass on all the incredible knowledge he had gathered during their nearly two years of questing out amongst the lost colonies of Man.

The journey is it's own reward, he told himself as the lights went out and he was plunged into total darkness.

Goodfellow shut his eyes and prayed to the Gods to protect the crew he'd become so attached to...

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Above...

On the Bridge, those that were still standing were tossed like rag-dolls, while half the ones in chairs were thrown out of them to tumble to the deck, as the lights failed and the room seemed to flip-flop.

Crichton the robot pitched over in a flailing of mechanical limbs and crashed to the deck on top of Twiki, the much smaller Ambuquad, who emitted an angry cry of synthetic pain. On the other side of the Bridge, Wilma gripped Rogers tightly, as he braced them against the bulkhead with the emergency railing mounted there.

"Buck!" she managed to shout over the howling of Seacher's hull and the scream of the battered vessel's shorting-out Plasma Engines, "We have to do something!"

"We ARE doing something, Wilma! We're trying to stay alive!"

"But if we don't act, the ship will-" she was cut-off by a tremendous explosion overhead! Blue sparks rained down like a scalding shower and were followed by a large chunk of the ceiling, easily three meters across, which broke loose with a roar and plummeted downwards.

Directly for the Command platform!

"ADMIRAL!" shouted Hawk and the Bird-Man sprang with lightning-fast reflexes from his own protective crouch on the deck for the portly commander who had just gotten to his feet.

Hawk tackled Asimov hard and the two of them were catapulted away to safety, and the ceiling chunk SLAMMED down onto the Command platform a half second later, crushing it into squashed metal and sending plastic shrapnel whizzing away in all directions.

A Yeoman was nearly struck in the shoulder by a buzzing piece, while the Tactical Officer howled in agony as a pair of shards tore into his chest in a spray of blood! He pitched over dead and fell to the deck on his back, sliding away as Searcher continued to pitch over onto her starboard side.

Buck eyed the dead Officer's body as it tumbled past his and Wilma's position and a cold fury rose within him, his teeth grit and his lip curled.

"Take the railing!" he growled at the Colonel, and once she was secure he pushed up with everything he had, fighting the tremendous g-forces now assailing the howling starship.

Have to...have to save...the ship! he raged at himself internally, it's all up...to...ME...now!

Buck staggered to his feet, body bent at a terrific angle against the pitching deck, then he staggered forward, the only person standing on the Bridge now. He pushed forward, determination flaring from his face, and made his agonizing way toward the Helm, putting one heavy foot after the other, dragging himself to the console, and then a moment later he made it!

"Sorry..." Rogers rasped to the unconscious Helmsman as he yanked him bodily from his seat then dropped down into it himself.

Half the controls were fried and smoke was pumping out from under the Station, Buck coughed and gagged, fought to see through clenched and stinging eyes, searching desperately for the controls he needed. Searcher was almost upside-down now and the inertia that was now plastering Rogers into the Helm seat was also threatening to push him into unconsciousness.

N-No! Can't bl-blackout! Have to-Have to st-stay awake! If I fail w-we all...DIE!

At last he found the controls he sought, but they refused to respond to his darting fingers, so he had to reroute them to an auxiliary point on the heavily damaged console, wasting precious seconds. Sweat poured down Buck's back and his expression was one of excruciating agony as he forced himself to stay seated, as the g-forces pounded on him, doing their damndest to force him flat against the board and drive him into the sweet release of senselessness.

Near...near...nearly...there...

The auxiliary controls lit-up and he gasped in relief, reached for the rerouted Emergency Thruster Control, but the gravimetric forces plying at him seemed to suddenly double in intensity, his body spasmed, muscles failing him, and Buck slammed down onto the console, the upper part of his body splaying against it.

NO! No...

The hand closest to the controls jerked once, then was still, the re-lit buttons remained un-pressed, and Buck fell into dark oblivion.

Wilma...I am...so...so sorry, were his final thoughts as the Universe fell away.

...Wilma...

To be continued...