A space cowboy has a bit of trouble with his ship's computer. |
Written for the Daily Flash Fiction Challenge with a word limit of 300. The prompts: This story must contain the line: "I can't find it anywhere." Plan B Lanier dove behind a storage container as laser blast singed the hair from his neck on its way to poking a whole through the inner cargo door. By his count, there were still six of “them” left. On his team, there was him…and nine others; all laser-fried. Ozone and burned meat; an all too familiar concoction of odors to any space-jockey crazy enough to risk trade routes through the pirate belt around the gas giant Centres Eight. “I’m going to need you to put a rush on that broad-spectrum flash-field,” he said urgently into his wrist unit. “I’m having a bit of trouble locating the activation file. As you know, protocol dictates that proper…” “Screw protocol!” Lanier shouted. “I’m about to go full barbeque here.” Not for the first time, he regretted buying the low-end AI. The cheap ones always had attitude. “I understand, Sir. However, I can’t do anything without that activation file. I have completed a full search of my hard drive and I can’t find it anywhere. Perhaps you have a plan B.” “Plan B! Plan B! There is no Plan B!” he shouted. A quick shot cut through a support strap causing a loaded ore bin to fall onto one of the Palladian pirates. A satisfying “pop” indicated that there was now one less of them. Paladins always popped when heavy stuff dropped on them. Lanier could hear them starting to close on his position. “Computer, do you remember your mainframe auto-destruct button; the one we keep out of the way in the cargo bay so I can’t push it by accident?” “Yes,” said the computer with some hesitation. “Well my gun in pointed right at that button. How is that for Plan B?” “Initiating broad spectrum flash field at once” came the immediate response. Word count 299 |