This is an automated archive made by the Lemmit Bot.

The original was posted on /r/hfy by /u/SciFiStories1977 on 2024-12-25 13:41:32+00:00.

Read the first part here: First | Part 2

Other info: My Wiki | My Patreon

D’rinn dove behind the console as sparks flew past his helmet, landing with a grunt. The welder-arm of the maintenance bot sputtered like it had a grudge against everything alive, or in D’rinn’s case, unauthorized. “Hey!” D’rinn shouted, peeking out from cover. “You rust bucket! I’m not here to steal your bolts!” The drone froze mid-lurch, its optics flickering erratically. The welder-arm retracted with a jittery motion, but the whirring noise it emitted sounded almost panicked. A garbled, shaky voice followed, a mix of static and distorted syllables: “St, bolts… neg, mine. No steal…ing.”

D’rinn blinked, his antennae twitching. “What the hell was that? Did it just talk?” “It did,” Seriph replied with the vocal equivalent of an eye-roll. “Though its Galactic Standard is, frankly, atrocious. Allow me to translate: ‘Stealing bolts? Negative. My bolts are mine. No stealing.’” D’rinn straightened slightly, his plasma cutter still gripped tightly in one hand. “It thinks I’m here to steal its bolts?!” He laughed incredulously. “What kind of maintenance bot is this?” “The malfunctioning kind,” Seriph replied dryly. “Please avoid further antagonizing it.” The bot’s optics flickered again as it shifted its attention toward D’rinn. Its welder-arm jittered but didn’t extend. A new stream of garbled speech followed. “Unnn-authorizzzed… persss-ss-nel. Danger-sss. Like… othhhh-ersss.” “Translation?” D’rinn prompted, raising a brow.

Seriph sighed. “It says, ‘Unauthorized personnel. Dangerous. Like the others.’” D’rinn lowered his plasma cutter slightly, curiosity overriding his caution. “The others? Wait, there were others? What happened to them?” The drone hesitated, its bent wheel grinding loudly as it shifted its weight. Then it replied, its voice even shakier: “Repelled… otherssss. Success-sssful… mostly. Some… fell… into reactor pit. Not my fault.” D’rinn’s jaw dropped slightly. “Not your fault? Did you just admit to tossing intruders into a pit? !” “It seems logical,” Seriph interjected. “Crude, but efficient. The pit appears to have been the preferred method of conflict resolution.” The bot emitted a high-pitched whirr that might have been agreement. “Protect… ship. Protect protocol-sss. Intruderssss… danger. Must… repel.” D’rinn stared for a long moment, then let out a sharp laugh. “You’re telling me this thing’s been chucking people into a pit for centuries? What kind of ship was this, a deathtrap disguised as a junkyard?”

“Clearly,” Seriph replied, “but it seems you’ve managed to avoid joining the pit’s illustrious list of victims. So far.” “Comforting,” D’rinn muttered. “Real comforting.” D’rinn slowly lowered his plasma cutter completely, taking a step toward the drone. It was in worse shape than he’d initially thought, one wheel wobbled so badly it was barely functional, and several appendages dangled like broken twigs. “Okay,” he said cautiously. “Do you have a name, or do I just call you ‘Rusty’?” The drone whirred loudly, its optics flickering in what seemed like indignation. A burst of garbled noise followed: “Main-ten… ance… Unit 13… tasked… maintain… ship integrity.” Seriph, ever helpful, added, “It says its designation is Maintenance Unit 13. Tasked with maintaining ship integrity.”

D’rinn groaned. “That’s a mouthful. How about Bolt? You know, because you’re clinging to this place like a loose bolt about to fall off.” The drone paused, its optics dimming briefly before replying with a begrudging whirr. “Bolt… designation… accepted… begrudgingly.” “See? Progress.” D’rinn grinned and looked up at the ceiling. “Even you have to admit, that’s better.” “Debatable,” Seriph replied. “Though I’m sure its agreement stems more from desperation than preference.”

D’rinn leaned casually against the console, still catching his breath from their earlier “introduction.” He grinned at the newly-named Bolt. “So, Bolt, what exactly have you been up to on this ancient deathtrap? Because let me tell you, your welcome committee needs work.” Bolt’s optics flickered nervously, and it emitted a jittery whirr before replying in its garbled voice. “Ship… power levels… critical. Protocol active… imminent self-destruction.” The grin melted off D’rinn’s face in an instant. “Wait, what?” He spun toward the ceiling, glaring at nothing. “Seriph, translation. Now.” Seriph’s voice filtered through the comms with its usual dry tone, but there was an unmistakable edge to it this time.

“Ship power critical. New protocol active: Without human restoration, the ship will self-destruct when reserves reach 0.01%.” D’rinn froze, his antennae twitching wildly. “It’s gonna blow itself up?! You couldn’t have mentioned that before I walked in?!” Bolt whirred again, this time with a sound suspiciously like exasperation. “Protocol… standard. Unauthorized… scavenging… must prevent loss… of Terran assets.” “Oh, that’s great. Perfect. The ship’s paranoid. Of course it is.” D’rinn gestured wildly at Bolt. “You’ve built yourself a real palace of sanity, Bolt.” Turning back to Seriph, he asked, “And what’s it at now? 90%? 80%? We’ve got time, right?” Seriph didn’t miss a beat. “0.7%. Time remaining: negligible.” D’rinn threw up his hands. “Oh, fantastic. Why not just blow up now and save us the suspense?” “Logic… flawed,” Bolt interjected, its tone almost affronted. “Cannot… abandon protocol… must protect Terran tech.”

D’rinn groaned, rubbing his temples with his claws. “You’re loyal to a bunch of dead humans who aren’t even here to appreciate it. Fantastic.” He sighed, forcing himself to calm down. “Okay, Bolt, listen to me. How about this: I get you out of here. You ditch this floating death trap, come with me, and—here’s the kicker—I help you find the humans.” Bolt froze, its optics dimming momentarily before flickering back to life. “Humans… real? Locate… possible?” “Possible,” D’rinn replied, shrugging. “Not a guarantee, mind you. I don’t know where they are, but I’m looking for them, too. Call it a mutual project. You help me grab something valuable—a treasure, a relic, something—that might lead us to them, and you can join my crew. Deal?” Bolt whirred, clearly processing. “Join… crew. Temporary authorization? New Captain?” “Yeah, yeah, we can call it temporary,” D’rinn said quickly, waving a hand. “We’ll make it official if we ever find them. What do you say?”

Bolt tilted slightly, a faint grinding noise accompanying the movement. “Terran data… vital. Data core… encrypted. Contains… knowledge. Potential… coordinates.” D’rinn blinked. “The data core? You’re saying it might have coordinates where we can find the humans?” “Possibility… high. Maybe even Earth,” Bolt replied. “But… protocol limits access. Ship… self-destructs without retrieval.” “Well, that’s convenient,” D’rinn muttered, but his expression brightened as he rubbed his hands together. “All right, Bolt. You help me grab that data core, and we’ll make a run for it. Then you’re officially part of my crew.” “Temporary… crew,” Bolt corrected. “Until… humans located.” Seriph sighed audibly. “Wonderful. Now we have two stubborn, outdated relics to deal with.” D’rinn grinned. “Don’t act like you’re not thrilled about it.” He turned back to Bolt. “Now let’s grab that core and get the hell out of here before you and your precious protocols turn us all into space debris.”

The ship shuddered violently as the trio bolted from the control room, the data core clutched tightly in D’rinn’s hands. Bulkheads groaned, and a loud metallic screech echoed through the corridors. “Seriph!” D’rinn shouted. “Give me the fastest way out of here!” “I already have,” Seriph replied. “If you’d stop grandstanding, you might actually make it.” “Helpful as ever,” D’rinn muttered, skidding around a corner. Behind him, Bolt clattered loudly, pausing occasionally to scan a malfunctioning system or realign a wobbling limb. “Bolt, hurry it up! The ship’s gonna blow!” “Integrity… critical. Must… repair.” “Must escape!” D’rinn shouted, yanking the drone forward. “You can fix the next deathtrap, I promise.” The lights flickered again, and a massive section of the corridor collapsed behind them with a deafening crash. “Captain, I suggest less sarcasm and more speed,” Seriph quipped. D’rinn gritted his teeth as the exit hatch came into view. “Almost there, Bolt! You’re not ditching me for a reactor pit today.” The drone whirred loudly; its optics fixed on the hatch. “New Captain… priority. Escape imminent.” They dove through the airlock just as the ship trembled violently, its structure on the verge of total collapse.

D’rinn barely stumbled into the cockpit, clutching the glowing data core as the derelict ship behind them began its final collapse. Alarms blared throughout the Wanderer, the entire vessel trembling from the shockwaves of the detonation. “Get us out of here, Seriph!” D’rinn barked, slamming into the captain’s chair. Seriph’s voice crackled through the comms, as dry as ever. “I was waiting for your dramatic order. Engaging engines now.” The Wanderer lurched forward, engines roaring to life as it rocketed away from the imploding dere…

Content cut off. Read original on https://old.reddit.com/r/HFY/comments/1hm0xjv/the_human_relic_hunter_not_all_derelicts_are/