One Last Trek

by Lina Hansen / lhansenauthor

"Identify yourself!"

Wyatt Earth's finger hovered over the sensors. Galaxy Rim Patrol had shown up even earlier than expected, the three wedge-shaped fighters just drifting into view on the starboard monitor. Fortunately, Doc was still asleep. His repertoire of swear words was as colourful as it was inappropriate; all too often they had ended up in the lock-ups of the pieces of trash that passed for stations out here.

An electronic impulse shot from Wyatt's thumb, and the comms channel was open.

"Settler trek from Commodus Five. Destination Yeehah Galaxy. Identification WE666DOC. I'll zap the authorisation files across if you give me access."

"Access granted."

That guy seemed to take a no-nonsense approach. So far, so good. The files gone, Wyatt carried out a perimeter scan. No signatures of metal, plastic or alloy other than the three GRP ships still hovering on her left and the fan formation of settler spacecraft she was guarding: Silvery, tubular structures with the black hole drive bulging from the back. They looked huge, but most of it was packaging to protect the fragile cargo in their cryo tanks, sleeping their way across the void between the worlds until they reached their new home. A routine job for Wyatt, poorly paid, but then they all were. Away from the federated planets, jobs for AI were hard to come by.

Even for somebody special like her. Well, especially for somebody like her, but unless GRP forced her to, she would not share any more intel. This was the last checkpoint before the trek set off into deep space where she would activate the hole. No more refuelling the herder ship at those stations. She didn't like them. Never had. The blessed peace of the void was where she wanted to be.

Alone with her trek—

"You're an AI? I need to see personal identification." The voice of the GRP officer cut across Wyatt's train of thoughts. She sensed a faint stirring in her mind. If Doc woke up now . . .

"Copied." Another impulse, another file crossed the distance towards the fighters. Now, it all depended on how serious that guy was about his job.

"Visual identification required." His voice sounded utterly impersonal. If she was very lucky, she was dealing with a robot patrol.

"They don't pay me enough for that. This is a class three trek. I don't need visuals."

"But I need them, sister. If you want to cross the rim, that is." Satisfaction seeped through the voice.

Not a robot, then. Better to get it over and done with.

"I'm a group unit. Or was. The other two are defunct. I only have group visuals."

"Send me those."

She did. And waited for the inevitable questions, wondering which one would come first. A lot depended on that.

"Which one are you?"

That was the better option. "The one in the middle." At least she didn't have to roam the stars barefoot like one of her unit partners. And her super scooper had come in handy on more than one occasion. The hair was another matter entirely.

Another faint stirring in her mind, which she flushed away with the highest dose of serotonin she dared use.

"So, you're a Sexycore? I thought those were—extinct."

That was even better. To go extinct, one had to have existed before. It appeared the GRP officer was willing to accept her as a person. She still had to be careful.

"All but. I'm the last."

"What is a pretty girl like you doin' out here?" Just as she had feared, the voice was becoming more intimate. Trouble was brewing.

"My emotion buddy is still active," she said casually.

Silence. Then, "Wow, wouldn't have thought that. Gotta be ancient, right?"

Not ancient enough to stop him from causing trouble. But once in a while, his sheer existence was useful. As it was now.

"Okay then, if you insist. But you could make a fortune in the East. You know that, right?"

Sure. Wyatt had already assassinated enough people to last several AI lifetimes. And slept with so many men, they had become an army in her mind.

She craved peace and quiet. And for once she got it.

"Permission to leave the galaxy. Keep on trekking and if you're interested—here are my personal details. Oh, and you might need your skills out there, sister. The last two treks that passed through just disappeared without a trace. See ya."

Coordinates flashed across the central monitor. She would wait until she was out of reach before deleting them.

"Thanks."

Wyatt activated the standard drive of the settler ships and watched the tubes drift away before she fired the engines of the herder spacecraft. It accelerated past the triangle of the rim patrol fighters, and shot ahead of the trek, leading them all into deep space.

The vibrations usually roused Doc, and this time was no exception though it took him some time.

"I believe that woman's plannin' to shoot me again," his gravelly voice exploded inside her head.

Wyatt sighed. "I'm doing nothing of the sort. And can you lower your voice levels a bit?"

"I'm as quiet as a kitten."

Some kitten.

"You've gone back to bein' all factual," Doc complained. "Can't a man take a nap here without your darn emotion levels goin' back to zero? Where are we, anyway?"

"You're no man anymore. You're a brain. Supposed to help me read emotions, to understand my victims better. No need for that anymore. As to your question, we're two kiloparsecs into the void. Still, way to go before we can activate the hole. And why don't you look out of my eyes like you are supposed to do?"

"Aw, come on, be a good gal. We're pardners, right?"

That was what they were supposed to be, but somehow Doc had become more of a liability. Still, he was right. He was a part of her—

"What's that?" Doc asked. Wyatt felt her eyes drawn towards a speck on the scanner. It showed up in blue, which meant no active engines. But the sensors showed metal and alloys, indicating the anomaly was no meteorite or asteroid either. It might be tiny on the scanner, but to register from such a distance, it had to be huge.

"Gonna check that out?" asked Doc.

She remembered the warning of the GRP officer, got up from her console, grabbed the super scooper from its corner and slotted it onto her right hip. It made sitting difficult, so she stood and watched the computer count down the distance.

"Watchu wanna with that old thing?"

"Fond memories. Apparently, there's been treks before and they—disappeared."

"Hah, I betcha nobody mentioned THAT when you signed up?"

"No."

"You should ask, woman. How often have I told ya? Where was I when that happened, huh?"

"Asleep," Wyatt said and activated the mega focus lenses in her eyes. For once, there was no comeback.

The speck in the distance grew and became a twisted mass of melted, blackened metal and tubes the size of a small moon. An asteroid belt of debris was drifting around it. The thing was huge enough for a space station. Only, what was a station doing out here? Plus, they came in the strangest shapes and sizes. But round? And the thing had once been spherical; she could see that despite the chaos the place had become. As if something had exploded from its core—

"My sweet ass," said Doc's voice in her head. She sensed his agitation through the bursts of adrenaline that flooded her internal systems. Adrenaline would help her be more watchful. Too much of it, and she would make mistakes. That was exactly what had shut down her unit partners. Terminally.

"That's a Death Star. Perhaps even the original Death Star. Can't be, though. Not out here. Or could it have drifted that much? And where did the second one end up?" Doc sounded baffled. And, for once, he was wide awake.

"Death Star?"

"Yes, from the Empire. Told ya all about that. Still amazed, they didn't programme you with the story."

"It's ancient history."

"So is that thing. So am I. You gonna get us a bit closer?"

Wyatt ran another perimeter scan around the drifting heap of metal. No active engines anywhere. Still . . .

"My job is to get the settlers to their destination. Let's get on with it."

"Aww, come on, you're no fun, girl. Look at that." Doc jerked her head around and forced her to face the starburst of debris.

"There could be treasures hidden in there.You're only missin' a few credits, pardner; then you can buy us off. No more trekkin'. We'll be free."

Wyatt sensed a stirring, a flush of anticipation. Damn adrenaline, but then Doc was right. If they discovered a collectable, they could be rich. And they were alone; she was sure of that. Nothing could hide from her superior sensors.

She calculated the odds and made her decision. "Right, but let me corral the settlers first."

Impulses shot from the herder ship, and the metal tubes majestically swung around and drifted into a circle, at a safe distance from the misshapen lump that once had been a lethal weapon.

"Will ya do me a favour?"

The Marshall star. Of course. It had been with them on every single mission. No wonder it was now cracked and riddled with holes. Despite herself, Wyatt felt excitement rising into her cheeks. Another sensation she had gone without for so long. Perhaps, I was all worth it. One last mission and be done with it.

Wordlessly, she snapped her fingers, the compartment in the side storage opened, and the star floated across. She pinned it to the bust protector covering her chest.

"Happy now?"

"Yeah! Let's go."

Wyatt grabbed the helmet, slipped it over her head and snapped the hinges shut.

"Take an extra oxygen pack, will ya?"

"I was about to. It's been a long time, but it's not like I have forgotten how to protect my buddy."

"Aw come on. Whenever I get around likin' someone they ain't around long. You're the only exception. We've come a long way."

They had. So far, Wyatt had always got them out with all systems functioning.

Wyatt stepped into the air hatch and watched it shut behind her. With a high-pitched shriek, the air was sucked into the ship. Then the outer hatch opened to the frozen nothingness of space. Not that Doc would notice, he was all toasty inside her head. Wyatt activated the boosters in the heels of her boots, and they were off.

"Yahoo, now that's somethin'. Nothin' like a ride on a crispy mornin'."

No point in elaborating on his faulty assumptions, she had enough to do to counterbalance the wild flood of pheromones and hormones he was injecting into her system while she was homing in on their target.

But it was kinda . . . kind of agreeable, to become a part of the vastness that was space, rather than hide behind metal walls like an intergalactic rodent—

"There, there," Doc yelled.

"Where? Either use my eyes or give me the coordinates. How am I supposed to know what you're after?"

"Two o' clock portside. See those twisted ribbons of metal? There's storage boxes floating among them."

He was right, though it was surprising he had spotted anything at all. From up close the whole—what had Doc called it, Death Star?—had become a monstrous reminder of ancient disaster looming above them. Methodically, Wyatt checked the environment. No sign of either life or engines. Nothing close to the distant trek either. All was quiet.

Only Doc was not. "See that plexiglass container? It's got magazines inside."

"Magazines? Ammunition?"

"No, woman, jeez, you're one explosive chick. Reading matter. Lemme see this."

Her head jerked around, and a smallish box drifted into the crosshairs of her special lenses.

"That?"

"Yes, get it, get it, what are you waitin' for, woman?"

She activated the suction device on her glove, and the translucent container drifted towards them. Inside, she saw faded pictures on yellowish paper. A gaping maw. Teeth. A forked tongue in pale violet. Somebody floated away from it. The person appeared to be under the influence of severe stress.

"Doc?"

Doc said nothing.

"Doc, what's a Fray? And who is Joss Whedon?"

"This is—unbelievable," he whispered. "We've done it. We've done it."

Doc had shouted the last sentence and Wyatt winced. "Done what?"

"Gold, gold! We've struck gold. Do you know what this is? Where it comes from? No? I know you ain't got no clue. So lemme tell ya. This comes from Terra. From Terra, you hear, gal?"

She did. She would hear better if Doc were not shouting like that. But if this artefact was Terran, his enthusiasm might be justified. She accessed her internal memory chip and did some computations. "You mean, if we sell this we can retire in comfort?"

"Comfort? You must be joking. We're gonna be rich."

"Right, if this makes us rich, then there's no need to look any further, correct?"

"Uh, there might be more. Much more. I think this place is a gold mine. Look at that for example."

"That" appeared to be a crushed little packet. No reason to get so excited but he was flushing Wyatt's system all over again.

"Get that for me, will ya? There's a good gal." Doc said approvingly, as she used the suction device once more.

"This is valuable?" She stared at the crumpled pack still covered in the protective translucent foil it had once been wrapped in.

"Oh yes, it is," Doc said reverently. "Haven't seen those for ages. Not since they made the whole darn galaxy non-smoking. They're Ooorah's Specials. Still in their original package."

"Cigarettes? Another priceless artefact?"

"Uh, no, not that. But valuable to me."

Wyatt computed the time it would take them to get back. Sufficient oxygen left but if they had found what they were looking for there was no point in running unnecessary risks. Only one more thing. A small tube of chrome with dark plastic around the grip part had caught her attention. Knobs protruded on one side, and she sensed a subtle buzz of energy.

"I'll have that," she said and sucked the tube towards her.

"Careful," Doc growled in her head. "That's a weapon. Or once was. Lightsaber, they called them." 

He thought about the weapon and images popped into her central computing unit.

"Interesting," Wyatt said. " A bit archaic for sure. It's low on energy, but there seems to be some charging port at the bottom end." A quick scan of the little rod revealed Diatium power cells. They would last forever.

"Uh, Wyatt?" Doc's voice said, unusually quiet.

"Yes?"

"Would you mind switching to the spare tanks? I'm running outta juice here." 

Already? He required more and more these days. "Done. And that means we'll return to the ship."

With the fresh air supply, Doc's protests got more vociferous, but she would have none of that. Security and her emotion buddy came first. Always. And if they had what they needed, it was not logical to linger. So she did not.

The broken globe dwindled behind her, at the same rate as the slowly circling settler spacecraft grew in the distance and with it the flattish disk that was her herder ship.

Once inside the air hatch, she switched on the full decontamination programme.

"Jeez, woman what are ya doin' now? If that gunk gets on my Ooorahs . . . "

"I don't care where it gets to. I'm not taking any risks here."

Back at her console, she dropped the super scooper into its corner and placed their finds on the empty seat to her right. Her fingers flitted over the controls. All systems nominal. Same for the settlers—

A single red symbol sprang up on the perimeter scan. Somewhere behind the broken Death Star, a spaceship had appeared where there was none before. Not one. Three. Five actually.

So far.

"Shit," said Doc. "Where do they suddenly come from?"

Columns of code raced across the screens as she hit emergency start, broke the corral formation of the settlers and steered them all towards the void. Only when the Hyperdrive had cut in, pressing her into her seat and vibrating the monitors into the usual blur of acceleration did she answer him.

"A combination of black hole drives and cloaking devices. Fortunately, I was expecting something like that and have altered the programme a bit. Otherwise, we wouldn't have seen them before they reached us. "

"Cloakin' ain't allowed anymore. Just like those."

Wyatt sensed her hand creeping towards the Ooorahs. "Not now!" She balled her fingers into a fist.

The symbols on the sensors had multiplied. She counted ten blinking red dots racing after them. No, not after them. Gaining on them. The herder ship would make it, could escape the bandit ships or whatever they were. But not with the settlers in tow.

"We gotta lose them," Doc yelled. "Just haul ass and get us outta here."

"I'm responsible for this trek. I can't just leave the settlers."

"Girl, you're nuts! You and your funny morals."

"They're programmed in, nothing I can do about them. Can you work out what is coming after us while I try to get us somewhere I can activate the black hole?"

"Perhaps they only want to share a glass of rim whisky?"

That comment did not qualify for a response.

Doc's grumbling was thunder in her head, but some thinking was going on. "I see no signature, can you get me visuals of those bastards?"

"Nope, too far away still. That'll change." Wyatt opened the comms channel. "This is settler trek WE666DOC calling unidentified fleet. Give your identification and state your intentions. I repeat, settler trek calling unknown fleet."

At first, there was only static, then ululating shrilled from the speakers and ricocheted through the cabin. Wyatt winced and turned down the volume.

"Oh shit," Doc said, much subdued.

"What?"

"Mutant Ewoks."

"That is bad."

Expelled from their home planet Endor when they tried to overthrow their peaceful society, the furry vermin had been raiding the intra-galactic pathways. Barred from doing that as well, it appeared they had found a new home beyond the rim. She, in turn, had discovered why the other two treks had vanished.

The only question was, would they live to tell the tale?

Wyatt checked the shield energy. Full on the herder ship, but only ninety percent for the settler spacecraft. Somebody had been skimping again. And even if the shields had been at maximum, they would never withstand a full-blown attack. The pursuers behind them were now visible and, if anything, seemed to be accelerating.

"For feck's sake do something, woman. Let those rotters be. Or get help. Just do something."

"Settlers. They're still alive, not rotting yet."

A groan rang through her mind. But Doc was right. Perhaps their pairing was a strange one, but it had always worked. They sparked ideas off each other. Like they did now.

She scanned for the coordinates the GRP officer had given her and sent out a call together with her position. "Mayday, Mayday! Settler trek WE666DOC attacked by a horde of mutant Ewoks. Do you copy?"

Static from the response channel drowned in more of the shrill howling coming from the other speaker. It was louder now, and the fleet of pursuers had got even closer. The wailing almost covered the subtle whisper that suddenly filled the cabin.

The Force is with you! Use it!

"Did ya hear that?" Doc asked.

"Yeah. What was it?"

He directed her gaze towards the tube she had found floating close to the death star.

"It's not charged. And why does it talk in the first place?"

"Woman, use our imagination—uh, forget it. It's not the weapon itself talking. It's—oh heck, can you come up with some way how we can use the lightsaber?"

"It's meant for direct combat. And, as I said, that thing's not charged. But that cell is so powerful, it's like a mini space grenade . . . "

"Should have bought thermo missiles when we had the chance, I told ya!"

"Ship weapons are too expensive. We've had that discussion before. Many times actually. Let me work this out, please."

She blended out Doc, plugged her index finger into the main port and connected to the central computer. Petabytes of data flashed through her artificial brain. And came up with a result.

"42!"

"Come again?" Doc grumbled.

"If that power cell connects with an activated hyper-drive it will expand by exactly that factor. This, in turn, will destroy the protective mantling and hence the ship. If the first of our pursuers blows up, the debris or the shockwave will take care of the rest. Or at least most of them. A few of them I can take out with the super scooper if need be."

"Then why don't you turn around and chuck those noisy buggers our little carrot?"

"There's a hitch."

"Aye?"

"We have to be quite close and I'll have to put all the energy on the shields. We'll be bucking around badly. The vibrations will be beyond your tolerance levels, despite all the padding."

Doc's laugh turned into a cough. " Wouldn't be the first time we got ourselves a rough ride, pardner."

He was right. But he no longer was who he used to be. Wyatt did not need to speak the words. They were there for him to read.

"Aw heck. So far I always made it. Do I get the time for a last Ooorah?"

Wyatt computed. "No."

"Then let's do it," he growled.

So she did. Turned around the herder, shot towards their pursuers at full power, overtook the first, executed a rolling turn only a disk ship was capable of and then whizzed past their prey to drop off the little tube. Doc was quiet all the while until the remains of the lightsaber slid into the open covers of the enemy hyper drive.

"You rock, girl. Now, Go! Go! Go!"

And go she did just as the Ewok ship went supernova.

The shockwave caught the herder ship, flipped it over like a coin on a gaming board. It tumbled, rolled, shrieked, creaked through the universe. Until it all went quiet again.

Wyatt conducted another perimeter scan. Only three of her pursuers left, two of them severely damaged. Already, they were slowing, turning around, giving up the chase. The settlers were scattered but seemed okay apart from some surface damage.

The herder itself showed minor outages but those she could fix.

"Doc?"

No response.

Instead, she heard a klaxon. That was unusual, given the overall satisfactory conditions aboard her spacecraft. Then she realised. The alarm was not ringing through the ship.

It was ringing through her head.

"Doc?"

His voice was but a shadow of his former self. "Thanks for givin' me one heck of a last ride, pardner. Won't be lookin' after you no more. Knew it would happen. Only a matter of time. Be a good gal. Find yourself a good man . . . Settle down . . . "

Her chest protector had to be damaged; she found it hard to draw breath.

Just then, the perimeter scan flashed. Three blue triangles drifted into view. The cavalry had arrived. Too late, as usual.

"Doc, no—hold on. Border Patrol is here. We'll get you to a medico. Doc? DOC?"

***

It took Wyatt two weeks and mountains of paperwork to get herself declared free of all charges and her trek ready again. Without Kirk, her helpful GRP officer, she might never have made it out. At least not legally. Something about willful destruction of valuable Empire artefacts. Half the galaxy had been looking for that death star apparently. Her bad luck to run into it. Though, perhaps it was not entirely bad luck. All the time, the magazine in its plexiglass container waited, hidden in her secret hold compartment. Together with the cigarettes.

One of which she was smoking now as the trek drifted into deep space. Noxious blue fumes clogged her monitors as she pressed the button that launched the little pod carrying Doc, the Marshal star and the rest of the cigarettes. For a moment, Wyatt wondered if he would ever be found. She hoped not.

"May Peace be with you, Doc." The pod shot off, towards a sparkling cluster of distant stars.

Wyatt extinguished the butt of her cigarette, wiped her eyes, which were watering because of the disgusting fumes, and activated the black hole.

One moment, the trek was there. The next, it was gone.

Last Frontier Saloon: Intermezzo

by Jinn Tiole / jinnis

"Auntie Lin, what are sexycores?"

Lin's eyebrows climb her forehead. "How did I earn the honour to be called auntie?"

Salty snorts. "You offered her shooting lessons, blame yourself."

My sis shrugs nonchalantly and dives into a detailed explanation that compels Salty to take over in a wink. "Androids fitted with advanced artificial intelligence always made people nervous. But the sexycores really had them shivering in their boots. They were designed as assassins, probably the most dangerous ever. They typically came in triplets, to provide mutual backup and enforce the laws of robotics. To increase their efficiency, sexycores were built with the bodies of attractive women, hence the nickname. And if you think it couldn't get worse, think twice. They came with 'emotion buddies' male human brains ... human behaviour and reactions. That made them even harder—and more lethal. Also more vulnerable to a point, especially when the buddy wasn't prepared to kill female targets."

"And that's what Doc was? The brain of a real human?" Lyddie's eyes widen either in excitement or disgust, maybe a mixture of both. Lin grins and takes over.

"Yes, as a far-removed descendant of Becca Perkins he inherited the star from his mother. He too became a famous lawman, one of the legendary tough guys of expansion era. During the Copernicus-shy'hi'zin incident, he received a fatal wound in a skirmish with Shy'jan deserters. On his deathbed, he donated his brain, together with the star, to the sexycore-platoon that relieved the colony on Sigma Delta, where he served as Marshal at the time."

Will leans back, a crease forming on his forehead. "Copernicus-shy'hi'zin? The brain was ancient! No wonder it suffered from the occasional blackout. But how did the star reach Black Eye? Wyatt travelled to Yeehah, according to your story."

My sis waves the question off, snatching an open bottle of booze from the neighbouring table to refill her glass.

"You've had my share of the story. I'll leave it to Jinn to wrap it up."