Last Frontier Saloon: Finale
by Jinn Tiole / jinnis
I drain the last of my rum and let the too warm liquid burn its fiery way down into my stomach. Nothing like sunshine caught in cane spirit to make me talk.
"Well, I invested archive-digging time too. Couldn't let you guys claim all the honours. Wyatt Earth, may she live happily forever, sold her copy of Fray #7 for an exorbitant sum. Today, it sits in a high security display case in the government palace of Karukera Seven, seat of Yeehah galactic council, a rare Terran artefact and symbol of human history. I'm glad the Black Eye officials don't know about Wyatt Earp's badge. They'd hunt it down for sure."
Lin refills my glass with her scavenged strong stuff and winks. "Did you ever wonder how long it will take for another copy of this infamous Fray magazine to pop up somewhere? Honestly, I believe a whole stack of the things fell into a temporally modified transporter-unit at some point and ended up scattered across the universe."
"Yeah, one even popped up in the middle of Big Bang. It's the reason the universe ended up as a weird place."
Salty sighs exasperatedly. "Didn't you want to tell the star's story, Jinn?"
With a wince, I swallow a sip of distilled garbage and pick up the thread.
"It comes down to pure luck the pod with Doc's remains was picked up at all. As Lin explained, Wyatt sent it on its way while she left Far-far-away on her way to Yeehah. She must have directed it towards Black Eye incidentally, for it was picked up by Dave jumping his long distance hauler from Far-far-away to Black Eye. Guess it's up to you to fit the last piece of this puzzle, Dave."
All heads turn towards my friend. I take the chance to move behind the bar and exchange Lin's horrible booze with a shot of the real thing. Dave shrugs and summarises last year's events. "Well, the pod blocked our jump coordinates. You know the security protocol of those drives prevents building the hole if sensors detect relevant mass in their vicinity. Luckily, one of the kids scanned the thing before I blasted it supernova. We picked it up and proceeded to jump.
During hole-time, my nosy girls got bored and opened the pod. The contents were well preserved, except for the brain. Case and padding were still intact, but the grey matter itself was missing. What became of it will probably remain another mystery of the universe. The rest is history. Jinn got the star in exchange for ... well, that's our private business. And the Ooorahs—Black Eye was ready for their reintroduction, after the eternal ban in Far-far-away. Who wasn't bored by ordinary tobacco-based cigarettes? The box was nearly full, enough samples to start a replication business. Awesome-Fags Inc. bought the rights. The proceeds pay nicely for the girls' education."
"Ha, and what about health risks? The things glow green, for Spock's sake! Are they radioactive or what? Radiation's supposed to limit the damage your lungs suffer from smoking?" William shudders exaggeratedly.
Dave raises an eyebrow, but we never get to hear his answer. Outside, shouting and running footsteps announce trouble. Lin jumps up, her guns pointed towards the entrance.
A man in the uniform of station security passes the double doors with slow steps, both hands held aloft. He bites his lower lip, and beads of sweat cover his pale forehead. Understandable, as behind him and pressing a gun against his jaw walks a tall cyborg, a black hat and long dark coat only partially concealing shiny metal body parts and scarred human skin.
"No one moves, or our friend bites the dust. Drop your toys, lady, before someone gets hurt."
Lin hesitantly follows the order. Her guns clatter to the floor with a metallic sound. The cyborg nods and takes a step to the left, dragging his hostage with him. He whistles between perfectly shaped gold teeth set in steel jaws.
"Come in, boys, follow plan B."
Great, the ominous plan B of some criminal gang involves Last Frontier Saloon. I don't dare to move, like everyone else. The hostage wears the uniform of lower deck security. I can't remember the guy's name, but Lin seems to know him. Seven almost identical Jameses file into the Saloon, followed by two silver-haired cyborgettes. They're definitely not from here around, I'd remember so much shiny black plastic in voluptuous curves. The dark cyborg, obviously the man in charge, presents another artificial grin.
"Very well. If you all keep quiet, we won't have to hurt anyone. Or not very much. Me and my friends just need temporary shelter while Eleven opens a way to the docks. Go, Eleven."
With a curt nod and bouncing silver hair, one of the cyborgettes checks the outside and is gone.
The leader turns back to us. "Well, this is a saloon, serve us some drinks. And I believe there's supposed to be music in such establishments? We want to have fun while waiting for our ride. Oh, before you get your hopes up, we've sealed off this section of the deck, so no one is going to disturb us anytime soon."
I bite down on a curse, place new glasses onto the counter and turn to the shelf for another bottle. The big mirror reflects the unfolding drama.
Cyborg points at Lyddie. "Let the girl do the serving. She's too young for tri—"
Salty jumps up, his lasso unfurling with a sharp sizzle. Before he can use it, the second plastic girl releases a blue flash bolt from her left index finger. Her aim is true. Like a sparkling fireball, the bolt twirls around the lasso string. It lights up in an orange flame and Salty drops his end with a yelp. The stench of burnt skin fills the room.
Dave reacts fast. While everybody still stares at the coils of lasso smouldering on the floor, he shoves young Lyddie in my direction. The girl is in shock, eyes wide and mouth agape. I pull her behind the counter and make her hunch down beside my legs, in the shelter of the bar. I welded the thing myself from solid steel plates, the discarded hull of a freighter—it already withstood a lot of shooting.
Cyborg-girl still points her elegant finger at Salty, and her master addresses him with a crooked grin.
"Dyin' ain't much of a livin', boy, stay put. Now, do we get these drinks?"
With an almost steady hand, I pour booze. Jen takes over with her trademark swing of the hips and a perfect fake smile. She picks up the tray to serve our unwanted guests.
"Tequila anyone?"
While Jen professionally flashes her long lashes at the gang-leader, Lyddie shivers beneath the counter.
"Shh," I try to calm her under my breath. "Your dad's fine, only burnt his hand. Stay quiet. Can you do that?"
She nods, lips pressed into a pale line. I fumble in a hidden cupboard for my weaponry and push the smaller gun at Lyddie. The fuss the Jameses make over Jen covers my whisper.
"It's set to stun, safety off. Try not to shoot your dad or my friends."
Lyddie blinks several times, and her lips quiver while she presses her back into the nook between the beer cooler and an unopened box of Aldebaran tequila. The gun aimed directly at me is unnerving, but her hands seem steady enough.
All male intruders served, Jen starts to flirt with Cyborgette, of all people. Dark beauty shakes her head.
"Don't trouble yourself, girl. Whenever I get to likin' someone, they ain't around long."
Jen turns away, wearing an overdone pout. That's the opening Lin waited for. With Miss Plastic's sight obscured and Cyborg still holding his gun to the security man's jaw, she dives for her guns. Two Jameses are down before anyone reacts.
I only understand the full extent of our mistake when a stun beam hits Lin straight in the chest. One of the deckhands at the table near the door holds a smoking pocket stunner. The leader smiles his golden smile.
"Always a good move to place backup in your hiding hole."
This looks bad. But, to my surprise, seeing Lin, our best shot, go down triggered something in the crowd. Will lashes out at the man with the stunner, kicks the gun out of his hand in one fluent motion and takes him down. His crewmates follow their captain's lead and attack the deckhands while the welders turn over the heavy card table. Out of its cover they engage Plastic Girl and her friends in a firefight. Hell breaks loose.
In an impulsive motion I grab my treasured cactus by the pot and shove it behind the counter next to Lyddie, out of harm's way. The girl holds the gun in white-knuckled hands. I try to give her a reassuring smile before I scurry to the end of the bar and duck low to avoid a James clone crashing into the wall behind me. Before he sorts himself out, he gets knocked senseless by a bottle tumbling from the shelf above him, saving me the trouble to stun him. A high-pitched yelp and the sizzling of my pocket stunner make me turn around. In front of Lyddie lies another James, snoring peacefully.
"Nice shot, Ly. Now reload with the small black lever."
The girl follows my instruction, the eager grin on her face a bit disturbing. A scratching noise makes me spin around. But it's just William, pulling Lin into cover, trying to favour his bad leg. I give him a hand, and as soon as my unconscious sis lies safely beneath the counter, he snatches her heavy blaster and takes aim from behind the beer taps.
I duck around the end of the bar and pick out James clones as they move into my sight. This turns out a challenge: My bolt misses Dave by a fraction while he tackles a clone in hand to hand combat. Before I can reload and take the James out, Salty moves in and hits him over the head with a broken stool leg. The boys grin wildly at each other in victory, oblivious to the stunner bolts sizzling around them.
Moments later, the ruckus dies down. I peek over the counter to see Jen stand behind the chief villain, pressing the point of a vicious knife against his almost human-looking jugular.
"Are you gonna pull those pistols or whistle 'Dixie'?"
Jeez, this girl spends too much time watching historical movies with Lin. Just stab him, Jen, as long as you have the chance!
Cyborg pushes his former hostage aside, snorts and sends Jen flying with a single shove of his elbow. She crashes into the back wall and slumps to the floor.
Unabashed, the victor of this short exchange stands in the middle of the fire my remaining allies concentrate on him. Slowly, he pulls two guns of a design futuristic enough to be invented for a science fiction movie. Cyborgette, obviously unharmed as well, moves over to his side. Eerie smiles play on two half-artificial faces and the aperture of Cyborg's right eye narrows into a laser sight. An ominous red dot moves along the floor in my general direction.
Right in time, clattering footsteps announce the return of plastic girl number one, Eleven.
She peeks over the swing doors and takes in the destruction with one stoic look.
"Time to move, boss, way is open, and Darth just sent the all clear from shipside. Engines are good as new."
Cyborg and his two sidekicks don't waste time. Heavy footsteps resound on the deck as they hurry towards the docks, leaving their unconscious or dying minions and Jameses behind. Honestly, I'm glad to see the last of them.
"Goodbye and good riddance," I mumble.
Last James standing, I think it's an epsilon 7d, falls to his knees besides his unmoving brothers and smears blood on the floor. My brain only now registers how many dead or stunned clones and humans lie in the scattered remains of my saloon's interior. James coughs, and crimson liquid colours pale lips. While he wheezes a final breath, Lin gags beside me and groggily stumbles to her feet, supporting herself on the counter. She takes in the chaos with dilated pupils.
When the door opens, William and I almost shoot the first lawbot who finally arrives on the scene. Five more file into the saloon, guns raised businesslike. Dave volunteers to help them distinguish friend from foe. With a thud, William drops Lins's heavy blaster on the counter.
"About time you arrive. What's the commotion about?"
The former hostage winces. "They robbed the miners' bank. Got away with last month's wages of the crews working Kalgoorlie."
While the few still conscious miners break out in curses and the lawbots sort out whom to arrest and whom to bury, I look out for my friends. Salty sits against an upturned table and clutches his hand. Where the lasso exploded, it shows bad burns, but there's not much I can do, other than filling a big glass with ice and my very best whiskey. Carefully, I set it down in front of him.
"At least the wound is already cauterised. Not much danger of an infection."
My friend's laugh lacks its usual happy quality. Lyddie offers him an Ooorah, already lit. That girl is gold. Salty accepts the cig and hugs her with his good arm. I turn away, giving them space.
Will kneels beside his wounded first mate, ignoring his own scratches from a table he fell through. Dave patches up Jen, and William supports a wobbly Lin. She shakes her head as if to clear it by force.
"I won't let the bastard get away with this. Not with a month worth of wages and destroying the Last Frontier!"
She shakes off William's hand. He grabs her by the wrist and presses an iridescent disc into her open palm.
"Here, with my damn leg I'm not up to this myself anymore, but this is the key to my one-man Appaloosa hunter. It's fitted with the new peacemaker colt-o-matic power blaster mark 37.7—has the firepower to take out a Death Star. Actually, I never tried, but she might be the ship to make the Kessel Run in less than 12 parsecs. Try to bring her back in one piece, lady."
Will looks up from his wounded friend.
"If you get him, Lin, you'll own the gratitude of the whole miners community. You'll never have to buy a drink anymore."
Not that she needs to, not in my Saloon. She's family. But Lin grins broadly, retrieves her mysteriously unharmed white hat from the counter, slaps it onto her wild curls and pulls me into a quick hug.
"Take care of cactus, baby-sis!"
And with a flourish of her long brown coat she picks up Wyatt Earp's star from the littered floor and is gone, the creaking double doors of the saloon swinging several times in her wake.
Last Frontier Saloon: Coda
by Jinn Tiole/ jinnis
Jen helps me clean up the mess. The boys offered to stay, but I sent them home. All of them were in bad shape, two have family, the others wounded friends and business to take care of in the morning.
The welding down in dock three restarts before we're done, the smell of hot metal a welcome constant after too much blood. As soon as we have everything covered, we sit down with a cup of hot chocolate each. It's already too warm for hot drinks, but who cares? Nothing like hot chocolate to end a hard night shift. The skin around Jen's artificial left eye is turning blueish-green, and she has trouble focusing.
"You should see a doctor, girl."
"Nah, I'll be fine. Some sleep and an ice pack will help. What about you, does it bother you the star is gone? It's pretty precious, isn't it?"
I think about her question. Yes, the star is precious. And I was happy to hold it in my hands, ancient things like this are every collector's dream. But its loss is not what disturbs me.
"You know, Jen, what really makes me think is the star's story. It's full of bravery, of fighting for justice, of success, and—ultimately—of death. Lin picked it up, nonetheless. I sincerely hope she'll be all right."
Jen nods, without adding a reply. I'm grateful—discussing this further would certainly make me shed a tear. With burning eyes, I stare at my spiky survivor cactus instead, the scarred hole in its stem a reminder of my sis' impulsive ways. Then I hit the play button on the music box. Miraculously, it still works, in spite of black burn marks on the display. One more time Gangstagrass' classic 'Contagious' fills the empty saloon, Lin's favourite. I imagine her pulling off the station in a sleek hunter ship and disappear behind an unnamed orange star, the marshal's badge at her lapel.
Ah well, I guess this was supposed to happen. The star was meant to be a lawman's badge, not an exhibit in a museum, even if it's a rough saloon in outer space run by a crazy owner.
I hope it brings you luck, sis. Take care of each other!
Last Frontier Saloon: Credits
This epic work is the result of a joint effort of six Wattpad writers, a star, and one unfortunate cactus caught in a mysterious loop of the time-space continuum.
Space Trash — Will Webb / innerfish
Gulch Rock — Rainer Salt / RainerSalt
The Edge — Dave Cardwell / FoolsErrand
Sureshot Sam — William Gregory Klett / WilliamKlett
One Last Trek — Lina Hanson / lhansenauthor
Last Frontier Saloon — Jinn Tiole / jinnis
Last Frontier Saloon: Disclaimers
No cacti were harmed while writing this story, but Lina definitely plans to catch up on that when turning it into a movie.
On the other hand, a few virtual Jameses suffered collateral damage in the full knowledge and with consent of their creative inventor, William G. Klett.
All characters in this work are fictitious, with the exception of those who are not. The stunts, in particular the smoking scenes, were performed by trained professionals equipped with protective lung coating. Don't try this at home, kids.
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