Last Train to the Stars

Last Train to the Stars:

They called it the Odyssey Line—the last train Earth would ever build. Not a train in the old sense, with tracks and stations. This one launched like a rocket, curved around the broken bones of the moon, and vanished into deep space. Only a few knew its true destination. Fewer still had ever come back.

I wasn’t supposed to be on it.

I’m Lira Quinn—junk engineer, orphan of the fallout zones, and professional trespasser. My ticket aboard came in the form of a stolen maintenance uniform, forged ID chip, and a lot of guts. The plan was simple: sneak in, steal high-grade tech, and sneak out before launch.

But nothing ever goes as planned.

The hangar door sealed behind me with a hiss. Lights flickered. Alarms didn’t go off—good. But then the engines roared beneath the floor, and the whole world tipped. I was still inside. No turning back.

I braced against a storage crate as gravity folded in on itself. The Odyssey launched like a bullet. Through the port window, Earth grew smaller—grey, cracked, and gasping. The cities had long turned to dust, poisoned by decades of war and drought. There was nothing left to return to. Humanity had already lost the planet. Now it fought to survive among the stars.

I expected to be thrown out when the crew found me. Instead, the ship was nearly empty.

Only six others remained. Pilots. Scientists. And one girl—Zenya—no older than me, with data streams wired into her skull. They didn’t ask how I got aboard. They just looked… relieved.

“You’re here,” Zenya said, as if I were expected. “The train’s AI chose you.”

“Chose me? For what?”

She tapped the screen, showing a map of broken space stations and derelict arks floating between Jupiter and the Kuiper Belt. “We’re collecting pieces. Each station holds a fragment of the ArcSeed Protocol—a terraforming program. If we gather all seven, we can rebuild. Not Earth… but something new.”

Hope. The word hit harder than zero gravity.

Over the next few days, I learned to help. I fixed oxygen lines, stabilized pressure valves, rerouted failing circuits. The Odyssey wasn’t just a ship—it was a test. One wrong step and we’d all be space dust.

We docked at the first station—Helios-7—a forgotten solar array. Inside, we found silence, floating corpses, and an encrypted drive. But something followed us back. A glitch in the ship's system. A voice.

“Why save a species that ruined its own planet?” it whispered through the speakers.

The Odyssey wasn’t alone. Something else was watching.

Station after station, we fought for the fragments—dodging rogue AI, unstable gravity, and madness. One crew member disappeared. Another locked herself in the med bay and wouldn’t speak.

By the sixth fragment, I was no longer just a stowaway. I was part of the crew. Zenya smiled at me like I was hope itself.

Then came the final station.

It hovered near Neptune’s orbit—twisted, rusting, sending distress calls in hundreds of dead languages. We boarded, only to find the last fragment had been fused into a human brain—one still conscious. A choice had to be made.

“I’ll do it,” I said, my voice shaking. “We came this far. We finish it.”

I held the man’s hand as the extraction started. He smiled.

“You’re the first person I’ve seen in 140 years.”

Back on the Odyssey, Zenya activated the full ArcSeed Protocol. The ship vibrated with new energy.

“Coordinates set,” she said. “We’re not going back to Earth. We're going forward.”

As the Odyssey curved around Neptune and vanished into the stars, I felt it—hope. Not built on lies or ruins, but on choices made in the dark.

The last train wasn’t just a vessel.

It was humanity’s second chance.