Musings

The Aviatrix: Part I

“Another?” “Another.” Sat at a bar somewhere in the skies above Intimation- a planet known throughout this quadrant for its ideas and innovation- she ponders the decline of this establishment, still one of her favorites. Now thought simply a gimmick, a bar floating in the sky used to be a pinnacle of style.  She slugged down the glass of light-blue bubbling liquid she had been served, tossed a few coins on the bart top, and left. 

Haunted by a memory she can’t seem to piece together, the nomad, known for her impressive and daring aerial feats as The Aviatrix, searches the galaxy for answers. She searches for purpose. She searches because doing nothing was never an option. As she walks out of Sky Bar she casts an eye toward her ship, once an argent vision, her Velo-Star 624 had been through a scrape or two but it was hers. They knew each other. And it still had miles and miles left in it. Sky Bar had once employed what was called an “Attendant.” A robotic eye which controlled scanners and motion detectors around each vessel. And guns. “Attendant” was slang for “try to steal a ship and see what happens.” But the declining bar could no longer afford the upkeep so one docked at their own risk. Everything seemed in place as she thought “try to steal it and see what happens.” Her boots clanked as she walked across the light bridge connecting her current location with a parts depot. Her ship needed a couple things and she could do worse than to pick up a new phaser cell for her revolver. 

She walked into Chip’s Bits- a stupid name for a place, but she new Chip to be stupid. “Chip.” She tipped her hat to the man with a glowing yellow eye behind the counter. “Trix,” he replied. Her left eye twitched almost imperceptibly. “What are you in for today?” He continued. “I’m looking for a new navigation circuit for my Velo-Star and I need a new phaser cell or two.” “The circuit is gonna be a special order but I’ve got plenty of cells here behind the counter- here, give me your weapon I’ll change it out for you.” She glared at him from under the low brim of her hat, slowly pulled out her weapon, removed its current cell, and laid it on the counter. The man with the glowing yellow eye quickly grabbed the old-time revolver looking phaser gun and emitted an “I got it.” Which signaled the emergence of 7 fuchsia-skinned, 3 foot tall, naked-mole-rat-looking creatures. “Hell rats.” She quipped. 

In a raspy voice, emitting more than a noticeable amount of saliva, the tallest one said “We’re taking your ship.” The Aviatrix glared in his direction. “And your gun.” Squeaked another. She threw a piercing look at Chip before slowly turning around. “Well, my gun is coded to my hand and I’m keeping that. So its of no use to you. As for my ship,” she continued as she slowly walked through the pack of rats, “you’re going to need the activation gem aren’t you?” She stopped next to the weakest looking of the bunch while staring directly into the tiny pink eyes of the first that had spoken. “And that gem is in the grip of my gun- good way not to lose it.” As Chip turned the weapon over in his hands and the rats turned to look in anticipation of their bounty, they all heard the unmistakable whir of a particle blade. The Aviatrix stood there brandishing it across the throat of the rat next to her. Immediately every gun in the room was trained on her. 

Its not widely known, but the most important hell rat is always the weakest looking one, they believe it to be a misdirect. A misdirect that did not work in this case. “Take the cells out of your guns or this is his final day.” Begrudgingly, one by one, each rat removed the phaser cells from their weapons and set them on the counter in front of Chip. “Chip, pack those cells up and load my weapon.” The Aviatrix demanded. He did as he was told. Weapon now in hand she instructed them all into the blast chamber, firing a couple of shots at their feet while they reluctantly abided. As she locked the impenetrable door, before turning to face him, her focused intensity found the shopkeeper. “Warning signal or not, if you ever call me Trix again you’ll be three feet tall like our pink friends in here.” “A, I’m sorry, I didn’t know what to do! They’ve been sticking up people in here for months and I never know when they’re coming or how many there will be- I knew you’d be able to handle it.” She waited for acknowledgement of her warning. “I will never use that name again.” The shopkeeper swore. Index finger to her hat brim she gave a slight nod, grabbed the box of phaser cells, and exited Chips Bits. 

As The Aviatrix’ ship sped away from the dock, the shop owner went over to the blast door and opened it: “That was The Aviatrix.” The small, weak-looking, rat snarled, “Yes, yes it was. She did not disappoint.” He emerged from the chamber, dropped a bag of coins in the shopkeeper’s hand: “thank you for the field test. Let’s go.” He hissed at his crew. “What was the point of all of that?” Inquired Chip. To which he got no reply as the small pink rodents took their leave. “You’re not going to hurt her are you?… Hey! Are you?!” He felt a sharp and quick pain on his left side. He turned to find the tallest rat, the one that had initially taken the lead, staring up at him from the place his left arm had been attached moments ago. It smiled and walked off. 

Kyle Krauskopf