Star Track

By Austin P. Torney

A gap is filled in the 'Star Track' world, as to why the Clingons made peace with the Federated. All thanks to James T. Quirk, coming out of retirement, once again, to deal with the new weapon, the 'Death Wave', that threatens Star Feet and the entire Cosmos.

Attended by his Yowoman, Ms. Rynd, his doctor-therapist, MacBoy, and his First Overseer, Mr. Spook, Jim must remain the center between emotion and logic, playing a game of 4-dimensional chess, as his last frontier.

Any similarities to 'Star Trick', 'Star Trax', 'Star Truck', or 'Star Worts' are purely coincidental.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Austin P. Torney
• Release date: Mar 12, 2012
• ISBN: 9781476288031

Austin P. Torney

Austin began writing for real around the age of forty, a respite from working as an Information Engineer in the field of Computer Science, doing programming, an art, as it turned out. He calls himself a humanist, and is one who enjoys the liberal arts, utilizing science, for it pervades every discipline. He is currently retired and lives in the mountains of Poughquag, NY, near the Appalachian Trail. He enjoys tennis, writing, fun, humor, thinking, sleeping, poetry, music, dining, travel, romance, reading, swimming, and life.

Book preview

Chapter 1: Starbabe 24

Jim Quirk walked the corridors of Starbabe 24. Jim Quirk, retired starboat captain.

Starbabe 24 was a frontier outpost bordering Clingon territory, and was the newest and most powerful base. It was now Jim’s retirement home. The base had every convenience, recreational and tech-wise—its halofloors were so large that you could almost believe you had your own planet, and that chrome and steel corridors never existed. Still, it wasn’t enough, somehow, for James T. Quirk.

Jim headed towards Ms. Rynd’s apartment. As he walked, he was still turning over schemes in his mind which could circumvent Star Feet’s stuffy regulations, especially the one which had required him to retire from the Captainship of the Enterpride at the relatively young age of 65. Rules were just simple guidelines, thought Jim; what really mattered was real life common sense, not some archaic regulation. Yes, Jim knew the book well and often had to rule from it, but he had often ruled from his heart as well. Never mind that he was as healthy and as potent as ever. Never mind the fact that he was the first human captain to suffer such an indignity; indeed, starboat captains seldom survived to a ripe old age, and so it was that the retirement rule had never really been tested. What really stung was the fact that the rule only applied to humans, and then only to starboat captains. Add to this the fact that it was the second time Jim had been retired! They might even make it stick this time.

Jim rang Ms. Rynd’s cabin bell, turning off his comiphone, as usual, to suppress any sudden and startling interruptions that might come up during a time reserved for lovemaking—a thirty-year love that had been waiting for its recent re-consummation. It was now a love which could be given and received freely.

Retired for two months now, Jim felt relaxed and was doing some teaching on the base, though not really knowing what to do next. Without public comment, he had refused the Commodore64boat of this very Starbabe; but, privately, he knew that he could never take a desk job which entailed little more than noting arrivals and departures. Oh, surely there would be occasional bouts of excitement, but these would be few and far between, and, anyway, would often occur way out in deep space.

Ms. Rynd never looked better than she did during this last month. Sure, they each had a few wrinkles, but they had grown old together, and so they still saw each other in a rather ideal youthful light. Her once blond hair was now a beautiful lithium silver—metallic yet soft. Her blue eyes were as deep as Jim’s. They kept their eyes open as they kissed, so they could each look deeply into the other’s reflection. The miracles of modern science and rejuvenation had given them a luster which enhanced the sparkle of youth that they both still felt. Jim still had a twinkle in his eye, and Ms. Rynd, she was just pure energy. Jim remembered some advice from Dr. MacBoy about age: Jim, the day that you stop being playful is the day that you will begin to get old.

These two months now seemed like years. Jim supposed that he could—in fact—was getting used to this arrangement; except that he couldn’t help but notice the Enterpride out there in dry-dock, undergoing a six-month refit. Well, she certainly needed it after her last mission during which she had become scarred from heavy Clingon phazer fire when Quirk had defeated the magnificent Kommander Klank and his Feet. It never ends, thought Jim; advance then retreat; old wars end, but new ones begin; new weapons are invented then countered by even newer defenses; technology grows by leaps and bounds. Of course, much of the new technology would make its way into the refurbished Enterpride. Only one thing seemed to remain as a universal constant: Aliens’ inhumanity to aliens: the trampling of inalienable rights across the galaxy. Jim’s mind wandered; he thought of the activity around the base—the Yorktorn starboat ready to go, and the Excaliba now empty—her crew having been hastily transferred to the Star Empire, a Deadnought. Well, whatever it foreboded, Jim Quirk was apparently not one of those who was in the know.

As Jim was taken into the arms of Ms. Rynd, his worries vanished, replaced by love’s wordless feelings which soothed him inside and out; he pulled Miss Rynd ever closer. She was as a warm blanket in a cold age. Their eyes met, and their souls spoke in a language that was not yet understood by the multiversal xlator.

Chapter 2: A Fish Out of Water

Dinner consisted of synthetic lobster, made from the genetic blueprint of an actual lobster that had lived long ago in the seas of Earth. It wasn’t bad, but knowing that it was synthetic was somehow a detraction to its taste, although the synthetic formula was accurate. At least the wine was real and so was Ms. Rynd. This was a rare moment of peaceful romantic life, something Jim had not often known.

As Jim proposed a toast, his comiphone started beeping.

James, I though you shut that thing off. She preferred to call him James, not Jim, because James seemed a warmer and more romantic name.

It’s the override signal—I can’t turn it off.

Belatedly, Jim rose from the table and stuffed his comiphone under some pillows in the bedroom, then returned and filled both of their glasses with a vintage wine from Antares 6, Scutty’s present to him on his 65th birthday. You’ll improve with age, Scutty had said.

After a while Ms. Rynd remarked, James, you’ve retained a lifetime rank of starboat captain, even into retirement, haven’t you?

I couldn’t bear to give it up, said Jim, almost meekly.

I know, she reassured, I know. Old captains never fade away—they hope and dream of circumstances which will return them to their primary love—their ships. However, that is also what I love about you; I wouldn’t have you any other way, for then you wouldn’t be you!

And retired starboat captains need not answer a code-3 signal. After all, suspected invasions have become routine in this quadrangle. They are just keeping me informed for once; but that life is over now.

Jim dipped his lobster in butter, then savored it, not saying much, for all was so much brave talk by Jim. Ms. Rynd knew that James was now the lobster who longed only to be thrown back into that starry sea that was his real home. Only this time she wouldn’t be left behind, for she had grown over the years, and had learned to go after what she wanted.

Chapter 3: Diamonds and Rust

Well, James, some women expect diamonds, but only receive rust. Although I’m content with this moment, I wouldn’t mind if we had more.

That we shall have, Ms. Rynd; we have the rest of our lives now.

The ‘rust’ was a reference to the music that was playing, a two hundred year old song from the 1960’s by Joan Baez, a song which somehow seemed to strangely echo Jim’s present state of existence.

As they ate in silence, words from the song wafted ever so softly about and all around them, weaving in and out of their hearts and