by Rolf Nelson
Kaushik: Port arms, gents, look sharp. McKibben, wipe your chin! Disgusting habit, that. Better. Mag and chamber check. All good? Safeties? OK. Not so close, spread out! Horkle, aren’t you supposed to be by the side door?! MOVE IT! Shish…
As he talks, the recruits respond, McKibben removing a wad of chewing tobacco and Horkle running for the side door. A spaceport security vehicle pulls up carrying Seeless and a uniformed officer. Kaushik steps up to side with Seeless, holding up his hand to tell him to stay in the vehicle. Seeless hands him an e-reader.
Seeless: You have twenty-four hours to pay the bill, or we shut power off again.
Kaushik: I’ll make sure Helton gets it. Now get lost.
Seeless smiles sinisterly, and nods to the officer to drive away. They roar off.
Kaushik: One thing you’ll learn, guys, is there are shitheads like that everywhere. Usually, you can’t just shoot ‘em. The next best thing is to launch about five megatons of lawyering or a platoon of accountants at them. Here, Sanchez, double time this up to Helton, and inform LT Kat… Different port, same stupid games.
DISSOLVE TO
INT - DAY - Officers’ Mess
Helton and Kat sit discussing the information on the e-reader Seeless gave them.
Helton: 117,000?!
Kat: And change. That’s what it says.
Helton: That’s ridiculous!
Kat: According to this, the previous bill you paid was just to get the power reconnected, not to pay off the full balance.
Helton: No wonder it keeps changing hands in card games. I don’t have that much.
Kat: It’s a hunk, alright. And if I’m reading this right, that’s just the first installment.
Helton: WHAT!
Kat: I think… I think that this will take some digging in to by a specialist. I might know just the guy.
Helton: But this says power gets cut tomorrow if we don’t pay up.
Kat: Yes, I see that. I’ll see what I can do at the legal side.
Helton: Guess it’s time to see how Stenson is coming along on getting primary power up and online.
Kat: Primary? I wouldn’t think it possible with stuff this old.
Helton: When it comes to machines, Stenson is the man. It might be feasible without having to cut everything out and replace it. Good a time as any to find out.
DISSOLVE TO
INT - DAY - Engineering
Stenson is leaning halfway into a tube near the back of engineering. Helton stands nearby trying to see what he’s doing. Stenson’s voice echoes hollowly out.
Stenson: Pretty good, actually. A couple of days, if all goes well. ‘Course, I’m still trying to figure out where half the power we are drawing is actually going, which should have been done a couple of days ago, but…
Helton: You can’t account for half of the power we are sucking in through the shore wire?
Stenson: Nope. At first I thought it was the bogus port meter trying to screw us, but that wasn’t it. Yet another mystery to solve. Doesn’t seem to be causing any problems that I can detect… But, as I keep telling the new guys, “fix one problem at a time that you can fix, then worry about the ones you can’t.” At least we don’t have to wear helmets anymore. Ah, there. That’s got it.
He pops back out of the tube, sweaty and dirty.
Stenson: Power moves to the top of the heap.
FADE TO BLACK
FADE IN
INT - DAY - Bridge
Helton stands at the command station, Stenson in the main pilot station, Lag at the copilot station. SGT Kaushik stands at one side station, Allonia at the other, and Quinn stands wide-eyed next to the door to watch it all. The forward window shows the spaceport, side screens various readouts.
Stenson: Power looks OK. Stable, anyway. All landing struts read green.
Lag: Ramps and sides clear. No one walking around.
Helton picks up a mike attached to a spiral cord, pushes the button, and speaks into it.
Helton: All hands hold on. Prepare to rise on landing pads in five.
Stenson: Let’s see if this Frankenstein monster can walk again.
He reaches for a small set of levers to one side.
CUT TO
EXT – DAY - Outside the ship, near the leased shop building
View of a large green box on the ground, a few feet from the building, labeled D9 HIGH VOLTAGE. Seeless stands next to the power box with a small remote control unit in his hand. In the background is the ship, looking much less like an abandoned derelict than when Helton first saw it. Seeless watches the small crowd of recruits and various port personnel gathered to watch the first trial rising on pads. A sly smile and mischievous squint occupy his face. He holds the remote near the box and waits. The crowd takes no notice of him, all focused on the ship. The ship makes a soft but growing humming sound, then a slight shuddering groan, and like a sleeping giant awaking from a long slumber, it ever so gradually grinds and shudders up a few centimeters at a time, lifting itself out of its shallow depression in the dirt. The crowd alternately holds it breath and gives short, ragged cheers as it slowly rises a bit unevenly, then more evenly and steadily. A growing gap beside it can be seen. Dust swirls into the vacuum created by the lifting hull. Seeless points his remote and pushes a button. There is a solid THUNK of a circuit breaker dropping open. The ship drops half the short distance to the ground, catches itself. The humming sound briefly becomes a whining screech, then stabilizes into a much healthier tone.
CUT TO
Tajemnica’s bridge
Numerous readouts are fluctuating wildly, with a lot of red margins. Stenson rapidly checks and adjusts the controls. Allonia and Quinn hang on as the ship lurches.
Helton: What’s happening?!
Stenson: Shore power was cut!
Lag: Why are we moving, then?
Stenson: Dimitriov got the auxiliary backup power cells juiced up and online this morning!
Helton: So we do have power?
Stenson: Some. Several hours of basic systems. Kicked in automatically.
Lag: Fuel cells?
Stenson: Yup. Redundant tertiary backups. Let’s stabilize things, then see where we really are.
Stenson’s hands dance across the controls. The ship stops vibrating, and sits at a slight angle. The hum drops off.
Harbin sticks his head in the hatch to the bridge. He looks at Helton and Stenson.
Helton: (Hands up, joking) Hey, don’t look at me!
Harbin nods and pops back out to check on other things.
Helton: So, how long until main power is up?
Stenson: Working on it.
Helton: Where do we hire a pilot around here?
Allonia: Depends. What kind of pilot do you want?
Helton: I don’t care if it’s a left-handed color-blind vegan lesbian midget druid of undetermined polyethnic ancestry who learned to fly on a roflcopter, if you can trust them to do the job well, hire ‘em.
FADE TO BLACK
Training
FADE IN
INT - DAY - Cargo bay
Harbin watches as a group of two dozen recruits run a simple obstacle course through the ship. They are jogging forward in the mid-level passageway on one side, down the stairs, across the cargo bay, up the stairs on the other, then jogging aft through the other mid-level passageway. They are evenly spaced, and movingly easily.
Harbin: Lookin’ GOOD! (To himself) Let’s see what we can do about that. (Louder) CORPORAL Kaminski, next time you get to that cargo bay window in the end, go THROUGH it, drop to the deck, cross, and go up the other side the same way. Everyone else follow.
Kaminski hops through the open window more or less smoothly, carefully drops to the cargo deck, trots across it, then stares up at the opposite window, not sure how to climb up. There are no obvious ladders, though there are some wall-mounted pipes and equipment.
CPL Kaminski: Uh, Sarge? This window?
Harbin nods.
The next couple of guys show
up next to him. They quickly but clumsily organize a simple human pyramid with Kaminski on top. He is barely able to get his hands on the window and scramble up and through. He leans back out.
CPL Kaminski: OK, Horkle, you’re next. Snipe, take his place, keep rotating through.
Kaminski watches a growing number of recruits pile up behind the pyramid, because the climbing is slow going.
Stenson walks into view, watching the progress, and stands next to Harbin.
Stenson: Like herdin’ a flock a’ tuna up a rainbow some days, isn’t it?
Harbin: Some are as useless as hired relatives. The first phase is always the frustrating part. Depressing to see how low “average” is. But we see which ones are teachable, which ones are able and willing to think things through on their own. They’ll get better fast after we cut most of them for attitude. The good ones learn to learn and figure things out. Or they get dead. COME ON, TOSS THE SHORT ONES UP THERE IF YOU HAVE TO!
Kaminski moves on, and the pile of confused men, each with their own ideas, grows and becomes more chaotic. One recruit is leaning out the middeck window trying to direct. The pyramid of men on the cargo deck is uneven. As one recruit boosts the top man up, another is adjusting position, causing the guy on top to lose his balance and he fall down the heap, landing awkwardly on one foot. He collapses, grabbing at his ankle.
Stenson: … Maybe tell them to catch, too?
Harbin: WAIT UNTIL THEY ARE READY! (Quietly to Stenson) They’ll figure that out… eventually. (Disgustedly to fallen recruit) Oh, stop your sniveling! It can’t be more than a sprain! You two hustle him up to sick bay and get back here!
Stenson walks away shaking his head; Harbin goes to help sort out the pile of troops.
FADE TO
EXT - DAY - Firing Range
The range is simple three-meter berm of pushed up dirt in a large, level-bottomed, three-sided box, about thirty meters on a side at the foot of the berm. There is a line of silhouette targets two meters apart at the foot of the berm.
SGT Kaushik stands behind a line of a dozen recruits standing at attention, each with a slung rifle at his shoulder. He walks to one end and looks down the line.
Kaushik: Secure your magazines!
There is a general shuffling in the line as soldiers unsling their rifles and remove the magazines, placing them in a side magazine pouch.
Kaushik: Present, ARMS!
The troops snap to present arms, though not very smoothly or well. Kaushik steps just behind and to the side of the first soldier, so he can clearly look at the rifle in front of him, without being in front of the soldier.
Kaushik: Port arms and show clear.
The first soldier moves his rifle to port arms, works the action, looks in the chamber.
Range Recruit1: All Clear SERGEANT!
Kaushik steps to the next soldier, Horkle.
Kaushik: Port arms and show clear.
Horkle goes to port arms, works the action, and a round flies out of the chamber.
Kaushik: WHAT’N’HELL IS THAT!
Horkle stands at mortified attention, and starts to tremble.
Horkle: I-I-I don’t know sir!
Kaushik: I’m NOT AN OFFICER, AND THAT WAS AMMUNITION IN YOUR CHAMBER!
A stifled giggle comes from the next soldier, Darch.
Kaushik: Any idea HOW it got in there?
Horkle: N-n-no sir, I mean Sergeant. It wasn’t there earlier, I’m sure!
Kaushik: It sure as HELL was in there just NOW!
More stifled giggles from Darch.
Kaushik: (With a sidelong glance, then a knowing tone)… Who is your battle buddy?
Horkle: Darch, Sir. I mean, Sergeant, Sir. I mean, Sergeant.
Kaushik: Did you, at ANY TIME, leave your rifle unattended?
Horkle: No. NO.
Kaushik: At any time?
Horkle: …Only when I was in the head, Sergeant.
Kaushik: And did you leave your rifle with your battle buddy at that time?
Horkle: (A look of angry realization spreads across his face) YES, SERGEANT!
Kaushik: (Cold and quiet) Ground your weapons. Now, the two of you are going to double time back to First Sergeant Reel and explain to him precisely what happened. If you are still alive when we get back, you’ll be pulling extra duty for a week, as well as doing fifty extra deck laps before every meal. If you are not back before we are, you’ll be holding targets for us here on the range. Clear?
Horkle and Darch, simultaneously: Clear, sergeant.
Kaushik: CLEAR?!
Horkle and Darch, simultaneously, at rigid attention: CLEAR SERGEANT!
Kaushik: MOVE MOVE MOVE!
The two of them turn and run and full speed back for the ship. Kaushik glares back down the line.
Kaushik: (Disgustedly) That screw-off could fail at playing with himself.
FADE TO
INT - NIGHT - Cargo bay
In the dim reddish lights of the night shift, Harbin leads the recruits in bayonet drills, similar to what the monks were doing but nearly full speed. Parry, feint, riposte, thrust, buttstroke, slash, thrust. The recruits are looking exhausted and ragged. Harbin is sweating, but he is crisp and precise. His voice calls moves in a strong and clear cadence. In the background, Lag is doing the exercises too, with the smooth grace of much practice and hard muscles.
FADE TO
EXT - DAY - Shooting range
Camera angle looks along a line of prone recruits firing with rifles. They shoot one after another, with three to four seconds between each shot. BANG… BANG… BANG… The view pans to the side, and 50m down-range Darch is holding a pair of target holders out at arm’s length on each side. With each shot dust kicks up on the berm behind him. He’s got an agonized expression on his face, his arms are drooping, and there are a lot of holes in the targets.
DISSOLVE TO
INT - DAY - Galley serving line
View from inside the back of the galley over the serving line and out the door. Horkle serves the recruits as they file past. A tired-looking Darch slogs by the hatchway going down the passage wearing armor and carrying a brightly-colored fake training rifle.
DISSOLVE TO
INT - NIGHT - Cargo bay
Harbin and Lag watch the recruits in fatigues do cargo bay laps. Exiting the mid-level window at one end, crossing the bay, rotating through and up a human pyramid on the other side. They clearly have the pattern down now, with two guys holding for a guy running and scrambling up, and one man at the top ready to grab hold if the next guy coming up misses the window sill. Steady but not perfectly smooth, and they seem well spaced out.
Lag: (To Harbin) Good. Lookin’ GOOD!
Harbin: Not bad. But it doesn’t get any easier than this. (Loudly) OK, take a break!
Everyone stops and drops, exhausted.
Harbin: Now let’s see how well you manage properly dressed. Back where you are in ten, wearing class three armor!
A pained groan echoes across the cargo bay.
CUT TO
Close-up view of Horkle and Kaminski, who are near each other
Horkle: ARMOR? Oh, god! Is he trying to KILL US?
Kaminski: (Shaking head) Save us. It just feels like dying now. Endurance is life. Run to attack. Run to retreat. Run to reposition. The side that stops being able to run and swing a sword or shoot first usually loses. Supposed to be good for the brain, too.
Horkle stares at him in horror at the thought of a harder workout.
DISSOLVE TO
INT - NIGHT - Cargo bay
Two dozen exhausted recruits in light armor lay sprawled out, breathing heavily, around the center of the cargo deck in the reddish light of the night shift. To one side SGT Kaushik stands watching them, not in armor, along with Helton. They are listening to sounds of the recruits recovering from another hard workout.
Horkle: My sister was right, I must be nuts to join up!
Darch: So why did you?
Horkle: Magistrate’s ch
oice. Nine months in lockup or volunteer and make it past the first cut, into unit placement with a contract.
Darch: What’d a pansy ass like you do to get nine months?
Horkle: Judge frowned on my taking private spaceships for joyrides, even if I did return them when I was done. Especially his.
Darch: You’re smart enough to steal a space yacht, and dumb enough to return it?!
Horkle: Stealing would be wrong! I just sort’a borrowed ‘em.
Darch: Yeah, you’re just stupid, volunteer or not.
Horkle: Hey, you’re here, too!
Kaushik: Save it for tomorrow. You get to do hand-to-hand sparring and field-expedient weapons. And it’s not considered proper to ask why someone joined; we care about what you do here, not so much what you did to get here.
Darch: Yeah, weapons training!
Kaushik: Yes. Fancy things like rocks. A real hoot.
Darch: ROCKS?! That’s little boy stuff! I’ll just shoot the bastards!
Kaushik: You may not always have a gun.
Darch: I will!
Helton: Darch, if you had to play ”Rock-Rifle-Scissors“ against someone like First Sergeant Reel, you’d lose. Whatever you pick. So learn now, before you do have to fight someone for real. You may not get a chance to learn from your mistakes.
Darch: Yeah, right.
Helton: I saw him use a rock in a fight once. That’s all we had… Six punks died inside six seconds.
Darch eyes Helton to see if he’s kidding and realizes Helton is deadly serious. Darch looks down.
Kaushik: He pushes you hard because he wants you to live through a real fight. Pay attention and learn. Or not… and don’t.
Darch glances back up at Helton. Then they both turn to face the sound of moving armor to the stern. They see someone in armor, about level four, mail hauberk, greaves, various extra plates, helm, shield, sword in a scabbard, and a two-meter spear. The reddish light and the helm obscures the soldier’s identity. He stretches and flexes, moving smoothly. Definitely not one of the recruits. Similar sounds of movement are heard from the bow, shifting everyone’s glance that way. Another man, similarly clad, but with subtle bright brass-work gleaming around the eyes on the helmet. He, too, stretches and flexes a bit. Both soldiers stop moving and face one another across the length of the cargo deck.
