One Last Joyride

[Hawkwings]

Some original fiction in an original universe. This scene is at the end of the story. I might write the beginning, if I have the necessary motivation and incentive.

In the meantime, please enjoy the short story, "One Last Joyride".

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The old comm transceiver hadn’t been active in over twenty years, and it wasn’t likely that it would ever see use again, but Jake kept it around anyways. It was nice to look at, made a decent paperweight, and, who knew? Maybe one day it start up again, with a new message for him. The possibility was always there, wasn’t it?

Even though he told himself this, Jake never expected it to actually come true. He had moved on, that part of his life was over, and besides, there was no reason to ever contact him again. He was useless to them now. He was burned out, fried, brain-buzzed, and his crew was gone. He would never be called to action again, and besides, Jake had had enough of that. He had done his work, finished out his term, then gotten on with his life.

So Jake had a mix of reactions when he walked into his study one fine Saturday morning and found the transceiver pulsing alert red on his desk. Alert red was the color they used when they were giving him an op, and there was no way they would give him an op. He was useless now. Oh, back in the day he might have been a hotshot, but now, even if he was the greatest pilot they had ever known, he would still be useless. Besides, they were breaking their own rules, the rules that had been very clearly stated when he signed on the dotted line.

Confused, worried, and slightly excited, Jake pressed the button that would open the transmission. The room dimmed, and the holographic display expanded from the top of the transceiver until it presented a floating head, the floating head of the Human-Interface AI.

“Jake, we have urgent news for you.”

That was odd. They had never addressed him by his name before. Of course, he was no longer “in”, so they technically couldn’t address him by anything else now.

“A Blue scout ship recently detected the spoof field surrounding your planet, and sent a report back to their Command. An exploratory fleet was dispatched, and it will arrive in seventeen hours four minutes.”

A countdown times appeared as Jake’s jaw dropped. Without waiting for any interaction, the AI continued.

“As you know, this will constitute a breach in the border, and we have sent a battle fleet to deal with them. However, our fleet will not arrive in time to intercept the Blue fleet.”

Like a bad movie, Jake suddenly realized what he was being asked to do. He nearly shut down the transceiver in disgust, but old habits and duties froze him.

“You may have wondered why we abandoned your old command on Luna. This is the reason. We leave none of our friends unprotected. You are asked, not ordered to, since we can’t, but asked, to defend your planet. You must intercept the Blue fleet, and delay them long enough for our relief fleet to arrive.”

A second timer appeared just under the first one. The relief fleet would arrive several hours after the Blue exploratory fleet was predicted to arrive. Hours was a long time to delay a exploratory fleet, especially one that was wary of ambush, and undoubtedly had strong escorts.

“We have provided the lockdown codes for your old ship, and you will be joined by your old crewmates, in AI form. We have preserved their brain matrices and they will be transmitted to your ship when you.”

Jake was already amazed. Now he was floored. His old crewmates, effectively dead, being resurrected, even in AI form, was a miracle. They had said that human minds were too different to be made into AIs, but apparently something had changed. While one part of Jake’s brain was processing this information, another was rejoicing at the fact that Kelsey, Eva, and Cassie were still “alive”, and that he would be able to see them again. Contract be damned, he would take this op, seeing them was bigger incentive than saving the world.

“Good luck Jake, we’ll see you in 20 hours.”

Jake didn’t need to do anything to get ready. The systems on-board would prep him. All he needed to do was transmit the lockdown code, request teleport, and he’d be under the far side of the moon in about two seconds. Still, he ran through his old checklist, his “chill out” checklist that he always ran through before an op. Except this time, at the end, he did something different. His eyes settled on an old picture of him and his crew, barely adults, in uniform and having a good time together. He grabbed it, then activated the teleport homer and waited.

The shudders passed quickly, and Jake opened his eyes to find himself in the commander center, exactly the way he had remembered it. It was still cramped, barely-lit and claustrophobic. It still felt like home though, and Jake quickly dropped the picture into the storage area as he checked the interface systems. Not only was it exactly as he remembered, but Jake’s mind opened up old memories and instincts that had his hands glide over the connectors and control panels like he had been doing this yesterday. Even though normal startup took several minutes, Jake still knew the quirks of this ship well enough to shave over thirty seconds off the time.

Satisfied, Jake strapped himself into the surprisingly comfortable interface rack, and slipped on the helmet. A familiar breeze rippled through his body as his brain was disconnected from his flesh-shell, and connected to the larger, metal one surrounding him. Systems check was already complete by the engineering AI, and the brain matrix download of his old crewmates was nearly complete.

The download finished, and the data-net was filled with their presence. Jake felt an overwhelming wave of joy and love as their minds connected, old friends returned from beyond the grave. Cassie was still the toughest little girl Jake had ever met, Kelsey was still laughingly obsessed over her nonexistent appearance, and Eva, oh, he had never stopped loving Eva. The others respectfully “backed off” as Jake and Eva shared a brief moment of privacy. Jake decided that it had definitely been worth it. Even as his brain was irreparably bonded to the data-net of the ship, permanently severed from his organic body, and even as he realized that he could never go back now, it was all worth it. Jake savored all the emotion, felt them doing the same, and waited for a full minute, just enjoying each other’s presence, before telling them what was happening.

Jake told them their mission. It wasn’t likely that a single destroyer, no matter how well-crewed, could hope to significantly hold off a heavily armed exploratory fleet, but it didn’t matter. It was a wonderful feeling, knowing that you could die, fail your entire species, allow them all to be killed, and still not care, because you would die happy. There was absolutely no incentive at all, to actually go through with the op. Except for the sole reason that it was fun. There was no denying it, that matching wits with the Blues, trading blows and furious calculations, dancing between lines, and perfectly executing a plan, was fun. Everyone in the collective consciousness was positively thrilled by the idea of engaging the Blues, with the old crew all back together again, and having a blast.

The old destroyer broke free from the surface of Luna, angled towards the intercept point, and disappeared in a flash of radiation. It was off for one last joyride.