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Trek You
Trek You
Trek You
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Trek You

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Once upon a galaxy, a spaced-out writer launched an online fiction serial celebrating the fortieth birthday of a starry saga much like a certain trek we know and love. Here, for the first time, you can experience the lost chapters of this deep space voyage, "Forty Days and Forty Nights." The names are new, but you might recognize the drama and excitement of an epic encounter aboard the star cruiser Infinitude as it pioneers humanity's great mission among the stars. Plus, enjoy two lost trek stories that started life as entries in a legendary nationwide contest. In "When Harvey Met Zeppy," an interstellar con man extraordinaire matches wits with a freebooting ship captain from the greediest species in the cosmos. In "Ilyra's Gift," the doomed heroes of a sequel TV series that never was fight a secret war to save time and space. Will it take the ultimate sacrifice to stop these temporal marauders from destroying every past and future trek? Don't miss these exciting lost voyages by award-winning Star Trek author Robert Jeschonek, a master of unique and unexpected science fiction that really packs a punch.

LanguageEnglish
Release dateJan 1, 2012
ISBN9781466049482
Trek You
Author

Robert Jeschonek

Robert Jeschonek is an award-winning writer whose fiction, essays, articles, comic books, and podcasts have been published around the world. According to fantasy and science fiction luminary Mike Resnick, Robert "sees the world like no one else sees it, and makes incredibly witty, incisive stories out of that skewed worldview."Robert's young adult urban fantasy novel, MY FAVORITE BAND DOES NOT EXIST, is due in 2011 from Clarion Books, a division of Houghton Mifflin Harcourt. A collection of his fantasy and science fiction stories, MAD SCIENTIST MEETS CANNIBAL, is available from PS Publishing in England. Robert has written for POSTSCRIPTS, ESCAPE POD, DRABBLECAST, SPACE AND TIME, PODCASTLE, DAW Books anthologies, and many other publications.His credits include STAR TREK fiction published by Pocket Books. His work appeared in three volumes of STAR TREK: STRANGE NEW WORLDS, winning the grand prize in Volume VI. He was also nominated for the British Fantasy Award for his story, "Fear of Rain." His story "One Awake In All the World" was called out in a Publishers Weekly starred review of the anthology DESTINATION FUTURE in 2010.His comic book work has appeared in JUSTICE SOCIETY OF AMERICA 80-PAGE GIANT 2010 #1 from DC Comics. He has also scripted stories for various indie comics, including WAR from Saddle Tramp Press and DEAD BY DAWN QUARTERLY and COMMERCIAL SUICIDE in the UK.Jeschonek is based in Johnstown, Pennsylvania. His website, www.robertjeschonek.com, features fresh daily updates on the world of writing and other alternate realities.

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    Trek You - Robert Jeschonek

    Trek You

    TREK YOU

    ROBERT JESCHONEK

    Blastoff Books

    CONTENTS

    Also by Robert Jeschonek

    Forty Days and Forty Nights

    1. Earth Year: 2270

    2. Earth Year: 2270

    3. Earth Year 2270

    4. Earth Year 2270

    5. Earth Year: 2294

    6. Earth Year 2270

    When Harvey Met Zeppy

    Ilyra’s Gift

    About the Author

    Special Preview: Universal Language

    TREK YOU

    Copyright © 2023 by Robert Jeschonek

    http://bobscribe.com/

    Cover Art Copyright © 2023 by Ben Baldwin

    www.benbaldwin.co.uk

    This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

    All rights reserved by the author.

    IE Books logo

    Published by Blastoff Books

    An Imprint of Pie Press

    411 Chancellor Street

    Johnstown, Pennsylvania 15904

    www.piepresspublishing.com

    Subscribe to the Blastoff Books Newsletter: http://newsletter.blastoffbooks.net/.

    Vellum flower icon Created with Vellum

    ALSO BY ROBERT JESCHONEK

    A Grain from a Balance: A Trek Screenplay

    Sticks and Stones: A Trek Novel

    Trek Fail

    Trek This

    Trek Off!

    Vendetta: A Trek Screenplay

    FORTY DAYS AND FORTY NIGHTS

    Forty Days and Forty Nights

    Chapters 1-6

    An Adventure of the Star Cruiser Infinitude

    NOTE: Presenting the first six chapters of a lost weekly serial created for an online Trek on the 40th birthday of the original scifi saga. This epic tale crash-landed due to website and staffing cuts and appears here for the first time anywhere.

    CHAPTER 1

    EARTH YEAR: 2270

    Personal Journal, Captain Matthew Horn recording. En route to our next assignment, the Infinitude crew has found enough free time to celebrate a very special occasion: the wedding of Lieutenants Nabokov and Zahara. Before the wedding, we've arranged to salute Mr. Nabokov with a noble and time-honored tradition.

    Vhere are the Sensulon dancing girls? Anton Nabokov, navigator of the star cruiser Infinitude, looked all around the crowded mess hall. I thought you said there vould be Sensulon dancing girls at my bachelor party.

    In your dreams, maybe, said helmsman Hachiro Sanu.

    Some best man you are, said Nabokov.

    Laddie! Perhaps I can help! Grinning, chief engineer Duncan MacDuff swung an arm around Nabokov's shoulders. A little a' this magic elixir... MacDuff dangled a bottle of scotch whiskey in front of Nabokov's face. ...and ye'll be seein' Sensulon women poppin' out of every Jeffries tube on the ship.

    Standing in front of a counter that had been converted into a makeshift bar, half-Hephaestan science officer Mr. Sark raised an eyebrow. I fail to see the benefit in allowing alcoholic beverages to be consumed at this event.

    Now there's a shocker, said ship's doctor Leonard McKee, who stood at the other end of the bar with a mint julep in his hand.

    Matthew Horn, captain of the Infinitude, leaned forward from behind the bar and raised a glass of bright blue liquid. On a special occasion like this, I think even a captain's allowed one Byzanthion ale.

    McKee clinked his glass against Horn's. I'll drink to that.

    Across the room, Nabokov threw himself down in a chair and sighed. "No Sensulon vomen. No Nebulon dancing girls. Not even a Quillian geisha. Maybe I should've had the bachelor party on Fantasy World and the vedding in the mess hall."

    That reminds me. Horn stepped back and switched on a comm panel. Horn to bridge. What's our status?

    Lieutenant Uzuri's melodic voice flowed from the speaker. Steady on course for the Theta Trianguli region, Captain.

    Horn nodded. Theta Trianguli was home to what had become known unofficially as Fantasy World--a world where advanced alien technology brought wishes and deepest desires to life. Luckily, the Infinitude's next assignment was in the same general direction, and her schedule would make Nabokov's dream wedding possible.

    Thank you, Lieutenant. Horn out. As he switched off the comm panel, Horn smiled. Uzuri had made great strides professionally in the past year. Horn felt completely at ease with her in the command chair.

    Too bad she was transferring off the ship in a week.

    Our family is breaking up. Horn turned back to the bar. Uzuri's leaving. Nabokov's getting married.

    Seems like only yesterday we were changing their diapers, said McKee.

    Horn smirked. "Eleven months till the end of the seven-year mission, Doc. Then we'll all be leaving the nest."

    And I'll finally be out from under your thumb. McKee grinned. I'm countin' down the days, Matt.

    Just then, Nabokov leaped to his feet, in the process knocking over the chair he'd been occupying. "But I vill be heppy! I love Zahara!"

    And what about yer freedom, Laddie? said MacDuff. It was the latest round of a debate that had been going on between them for weeks.

    I still say marriage isn't the end of the vorld! said Nabokov.

    The end of the world.

    That was exactly what Horn saw looming in the distance. The end of the five-year mission. The crew going their separate ways. Then what?

    I'm Matthew Horn. I've faced monsters, alien weapons, anomalies, and alternate selves of every stripe.

    Why is this bothering me so much?

    I've always had trouble with endings, said Horn.

    Yet another quality that makes you completely different from everyone else in the galaxy, said McKee.

    "It's just...this ship. This crew. This mission. Horn smiled. How can life possibly get any better?"

    Sark cleared his throat. There is a Hephaestan fable that might apply here.

    McKee rolled his eyes. Here we go.

    "A noskah master climbed to the summit of Mount Charvach, said Sark, only to come nose to nose with a hungry zavakh. In his haste to escape, the noskah master ran off the edge of a cliff...but was able to catch hold of a vine."

    McKee narrowed his eyes. This sounds familiar.

    "If the noskah master climbed back up to the summit, the zavakh would devour him, said Sark. If he let go of the branch, he would plunge to his death. 'What will you do, master?' said the zavakh.

    "The noskah master saw a ripe, purple paka fruit growing within arm's reach from the side of the cliff. He picked the fruit and bit into it, tasting its rich sweetness."

    "Now I know I've heard this one before! McKee said angrily. A tiger chases a Buddhist monk off a cliff, and he eats a strawberry!"

    How does your story end, Sark? said Horn.

    The monk finds true joy, said McKee.

    Incorrect, said Sark. "The noskah master was satisfied that he had attained true noskah, the banishment of all emotion, because he was unable to experience any enjoyment of the fruit."

    McKee stared at Sark for a long moment. Leave it to you to suck the joy out of anything, McKee said finally.

    Thank you, Doctor, said Sark.

    It was then that the mess hall door slid open, admitting someone new to the party.

    The look on Nabokov's face was one of surprise...and panic. Z-Zahara? he said. Vhat brings you here?

    Even in a standard-issue blue uniform tunic and black trousers, Lieutenant Zahara looked stunning. Light glinted from her silvery skin, and her eyes and flowing hair shimmered with a golden glow. She was at least a head taller than anyone in the room, her lean body perfectly curved and carved and cut. She moved with a fluid, gliding grace, as if she were always in slow motion.

    Just thought I'd see how the party's going. Zahara's voice had a smoky, throaty quality that exuded sensuality.

    Nabokov nodded nervously. Vell. It's going vell.

    There's just one thing, lass. MacDuff ambled forward, clutching a bottle of scotch. With all due respect, would ye mind movin' along?

    Zahara frowned. I don't understand, Mr. MacDuff.

    It's like this, said MacDuff. Accordin' to tradition, bachelor parties are for men only. Y'see?

    Zahara smiled. I do see, Mr. MacDuff.

    With that, she closed her eyes. Brow furrowed in concentration, she tipped

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