by Rolf Nelson
Kaushik: (Quietly) Watch and learn.
Suddenly one of the two men runs to the port side, slings his shield and, midstride, tosses his spear up through a mid-deck window, and scampers unassisted up the wall like a giant squirrel up a tree using hand- and footholds the recruits didn’t see or trust to use, and rolls up and through the window with a grace and speed none of the recruits came even close to, even when not in armor. The other man starts a lap at the same moment, going starboard and up the stairs. They are racing down the middeck corridor at full speed, clearly with spear and shield. When they get to the far end one takes the stairs down, and the other tosses spear and shield out the window while rolling over the sill and down, making it look simple, fast, and easy. The recruits are in shocked amazement; these two were moving far faster than they ever did. The soldiers are now both running counterclockwise, a race to try to catch up to each other. A combination of speed, endurance, precision, decisions on relative speed and safety of stairs vs. windows. In a window, down a passageway, down a stair, across the deck, around and around. Simple. Fast. Graceful. Brutal. The recruits start cheering them on still unsure of the soldiers’ identities. The onlookers notice each man does not always take the same exact route. Stairs or mid-deck window, one path a little easier, one path a bit faster unless they hurt themselves landing or get hung up going through a window. The sound of their breathing is loud, but not gasping. Gradually they pull closer together, the one with the brass-detailed helm gaining ground. Five laps gained five meters. Ten laps, ten meters. Closing in. Getting close. Brass-mask goes out the window to the cargo deck with spear and shield in hand and drops down next to the stern stairway hatch and lunges toward it, bracing as the other comes out. Shield-to-shield they crash together, one with more momentum, the other well braced. It’s not clear who came out ahead.
Kaushik grabs a shield from a recruit and runs to the bow cargo bay door while the two men face off with spear and shield. Kaushik leans the shield up against the door, a good thirty meters from where they are, and stands aside. He whistles loudly.
Kaushik: (Shouting) Center Accuracy! Here!
The two men in armor stop facing off. They both turn and identify the target. The recruits realize they are between the target and the men throwing. The cheering stops as they hit the deck. Brass-work helm stutter-steps a hard throw and hits the shield near the top edge, the spear biting deep. The other throws with a step and good body twist, hitting about a hand span from dead center, low, also deep. The recruits whistle and cheer. The two men lean forward, hands on knees, breathing hard, race over, a draw, then stand and stretch to expand lung capacity, clearly winded. They clasp hands and congratulate each other silently for a race hard run. Then they walk slowly towards the recruits, and the group falls silent.
Kaushik: Form ranks!
All the recruits fall into two neat lines, their own exhaustion temporarily forgotten in the excitement. The two armored men come up in front of the ranks. They take their helms off. Under the plain helm is Colonel Lag. Wearing the brass-work on the helm is the First Sergeant.
Lag: (Still breathing hard) Civilizations stand on the shoulders of those who do what others will not, or cannot, do. There are few shortcuts in training, only good training and bad. Now, you must continue to do what others do not. We expect no more from you than we expect from ourselves. Stick with us and you’ll suffer in training like nowhere else. You will also win fights and live to tell your grandchildren like no one else. Want an easy life? This isn’t it. Want a worthwhile life in any field? You have to earn it, and the price isn’t easy to pay. Would you rather have someone like first Sergeant Reel here standing by your side… or facing you? You have a full day tomorrow, I hear. Get cleaned up and hit the rack. Keep at it, and eventually some of you will be racing us.
He nods to Kaushik, and Lag and Harbin turn and walk away.
Kaushik: Atten-shun! Hang your armor to dry, hit the shower, and bed. Lights out in twenty, gentlemen! Dismissed!
FADE TO BLACK
Roman candle
FADE IN
INT - DAY - Engineering
Stenson and a couple of his maintenance crew are working in open access panels near the back wall. He turns a wrench tightening a bolt, finishing with his immediate task. Out of the corner of his eye he sees the lit-candle logo dimly glowing just above a closed deck-level access panel. He looks at it, cocking his head thoughtfully.
Stenson: (To the Ship AI) What does the candle signify? What’s behind the hatch here? (Taps it with the wrench in his hand)
Ship AI: (OC) It is the symbol for a roman candle. Storage.
Stenson: Storage for what?
Ship AI: (OC) A type of roman candle.
Stenson: What type?
Ship AI: (OC) The type we have on board that needs storing.
Stenson: We have roman candles on board?
Ship AI: (OC) Negative.
Stenson: But you just said we did.
Ship AI: (OC) Negative.
Stenson: Yes, you said we have roman candles on board that need storing.
Ship AI: (OC) Negative. I said roman candle.
Stenson: That’s what I said you said.
Ship AI: (OC) Negative. There is no letter “S” in roman candle.
Stenson: So we have a roman candle on board?
Ship AI: (OC) Partially affirmative.
Stenson: What the hell does that mean?
Ship AI: (OC) We have parts of a roman candle aboard.
Crewman one: How do you have only part of a candle?
Ship AI: (OC) By not having all the parts in proper storage.
Stenson: But you just said we only had one.
Ship AI: (OC) Negative.
Stenson: YES, you DID!
Ship AI: (OC) Would you like me to replay a record of the conversation?
Stenson: No! Tell me exactly what you do have.
Ship AI: (OC) Parts. Storage. Missing parts.
Stenson closes his eyes. Breathes in slowly through his nose. Hold. Out slowly though his mouth. Hold. He opens his eyes.
Stenson: So. You have some of the parts of a single item you are calling a roman candle, and their proper place is inside that storage area?
Ship AI: (OC) Affirmative.
Stenson: Is there any other name that this “roman candle” might be known as?
Ship AI: (OC) Affirmative.
Stenson: What?
Ship AI: (OC) I forget.
Stenson: You for… Can you describe it?
Ship AI: (OC) A specialized high capacity energy storage and conversion system.
Stenson: What capacity?
Ship AI: (OC) Forty-two gigajoules.
Stenson: That could be useful. What’s it for?
Ship AI: (OC) Storing and converting energy.
Stenson: What kind of energy?
Ship AI: (OC) Potential into useful.
Stenson: (Frustrated) Oh, for the LOVE of…
Ship AI: (OC) When stored properly, it should become readily apparent.
Stenson: OK, so where are the parts?
Ship AI: (OC) Not in storage.
Stenson: (Tiredly, to maintenance crewman) Some days, I just want to hit the big reset button.
Crewman: Why don’t you?
Stenson: Don’t know where it is yet.
All the lights go out except those directly over three of the cylinders that have been getting kicked around. Two are being used like a sawhorse to support some machinery they are working on. One is standing alone in a corner with the remains of lunch on it, and a flower vase covering the center hole. On each of them, the lit-candle logo can be seen gleaming faintly in the light. One of the lights is full power, the other two are dim.
Stenson: I assume the well-lit one goes in first?
Ship AI gives no response. A long moment of silence passes with no one moving.
Stenson opens the hatch and looks inside. It appears to be a top-loading access point to a tube below deck level. He
leans in and peers down it. It stretches off in both directions, empty, fading into the distance towards bow and stern. Stenson stands back up, scratching his head in thought. He and the two crewmen go over to the well-lit cylinder and manhandle it over to near the open hatch; it is obviously heavy, and will be a tight squeeze through the hatch. A wall-mounted screen the side of the hatch displays a simple diagram and animation showing how to position and roll it into position, with the candle logo at one end. As they roll it into the hatch a wall-mounted mechanism locks onto it, rotating it in place, then lowering it down just below floor level. It gets whisked down the tube like a train leaving the station.
Stenson: Huh. Well, we can clear a bit of space up by getting them all in there. You two (indicates the two men he’s working with) get Alvarez, Kumar, Dixit, and Franks up here and get them all loaded. Don’t know if order makes any difference, so you’ll have to be very exact with your questions. AI seems to be a bit more literal today than normal.
The crewman nods assent and get to work.
FADE TO BLACK
Permission
FADE IN
INT - NIGHT - Middeck passageway
Kaminski and Kaushik stand together in fatigues, talking.
Kaushik: OK by me, but if you plan on using Company guns and ammo, better run it by Kat or Lag. Shouldn’t be a problem, but…
CUT TO
INT - DAY - Lag’s cabin
Lag is at his desk, Kaminski at position of at ease in front of him. Lag continues to clean the disassembled pistol on the desk in front of him while they talk.
Lag: (Skeptical) So you want to use Company material to teach a civilian to shoot?
Kaminski: Yes, sir. She’s nearly one of the Company, and-
Lag: “Nearly?” But you know we don’t normally send women into front-line combat, Corporal.
Kaminski: But, uh, Sir, you said-
Lag: Make your case.
Kaminski: She’s always around here-
Lag: (Quietly, firmly) Properly, now. Atten-shun.
Kaminski snaps to attention, face going expressionless. Lag watches him organize his thoughts. Lag runs a patch through the barrel. After a short pause, he waves for Kaminski to continue. Speaking crisply from attention, as if standing before a promotion board answering questions, Kaminski makes his case.
Kaminski: Sir. We should train field support personnel, including women, to fight so they can defend themselves and will not require a security detachment when we are not present. As she is part of the ship’s crew that has drawn attention, she may be targeted, and it would be a weakness that should be remedied. Proper training will also allow her to knowledgeably watch for any unsafe weapons handling among the recruits should they try to impress her with it, to report to myself or the Sergeants. It will set an example for the recruits that we demand high standards from everyone, that we are not just beating them up for fun. I will cover the ammo cost, and I will of course pursue training in my off-duty hours, so it will be cost-effective for the Company. I am not contemplating full front-line combat training at the current time, just basic weapons training and self-defense, so the time needed will be modest. She is already getting flight and flight-combat training in simulator mode from the ship. Sir.
Lag: …And…?
Kaminski: And she thought it would set a good example for Quinn, who is fascinated by all things weapon-like, of course.
Lag: …And… she being an attractive young lady has nothing to do with it?
Kaminski: She is, and it does, Sir. But it has nothing to do with convincing you.
Lag: (Chuckling) Indeed. Good distinction. Case made. Just see that it doesn’t interfere with normal operations, right?
Kaminski: Yes, Sir. Thank you. Question, Sir?
Lag: At ease.
Kaminski: About not sending women in combat…
Lag: Yes?
Kaminski: I thought we did train them for combat.
Lag: Self-defense and an array of support operations, yes. But not as infantry to send into the front line. Exceptions have been made for exceptional individuals or conditions. You are right, sometimes the hell of war comes knocking on the door without us going anywhere, and it would be pretty short sighted to not have them be as ready as practical. Occasionally they are the best person for a front-line job. But the few that are physically capable are too sensitive, and most that could handle the psychological hell are not bodily capable, or are mentally unfit in other ways. They can make excellent soldiers in some places, but for most it would be a waste to send them to the front if we didn’t have to. One day we might need every hand that can so much as lift a sword. Your answer was spot on. It’s good to train good people in useful skills, regardless of plumbing. Dismissed.
Kaminski salutes, about-faces, and heads out the door.
FADE TO BLACK
Bipasha
FADE IN
INT - DAY - Spaceport lounge on Adelaide
Close-up of Bipasha as she sits at a table, talking to someone off camera.
Bipasha: So, I told him ‘Uncle, I need to go more places, make more decisions for myself, not just get ordered around by you!’… I thought I’d visit every aunt, uncle, cousin, and in-law I could track down. You were always my favorite, and thanks to Aunt Mohini I knew you were here.
Someone: (Indistinct, OC) Hmmmmm…
Bipasha: Surely you must know someone who’s looking for a business manager, not just a drone?
Camera pulls back to reveal Harbin in camo fatigues sitting across from her.
Harbin: Only one, right now.
Bipasha: Great! What sort of business?
Harbin: Good question. It’s sort of vague. He needs someone to help get the details together. He’s smart and has big ideas, but not very organized.
Bipasha: Oh, sounds wonderful! (Suddenly very suspicious) Accounting issues?
Harbin: Some. Mostly because he’s too honest.
Bipasha: Too Honest? Ha! I’d like to meet the man that fits that description!
Harbin: Ah. Here he comes now.
Camera pulls wider angle as Helton steps up behind Bipasha, and she turns and sees him.
Harbin: Bipasha, this is Helton, Helton, Bipasha. He’s the owner of the starship I was…
Harbin stops talking as the two look at one another, Bipasha’s mouth open in surprise, Helton with a pleasant smile of recognition.
Harbin: I take it you know one another?
Helton takes a seat and waves the waiter over, as Bipasha gapes at him.
Helton: Yes, a little bit. We met shortly before I met you, and again a couple weeks ago. (To the waiter) Iced tea, please.
Bipasha stars at him in disbelief, mouth moving wordlessly.
Helton: (Exaggerated puzzlement) For some strange reason she never quite believes me. (To Bipasha) For example, Harbin and I saved each other’s lives less than two months ago, after our ship got hit by pirates.
Bipasha: PREPOSTEROUS! Of all the egotistical, vapor-minded, ludicrous things to claim, a man like you saving First Sergeant Harbin Reel from pirates is a sure sign of being utterly, stark, raving-
Helton: I planned the escape and rescue and piloted, he played Rock-Rifle-Scissors with the bad guys.
Harbin: (Dryly) I wasn’t playing, and I’m not sure how you can call that piloting.
Helton: (Mock defensiveness) Hey, I’d just survived being shot with a grenade after a trek through the desert, what do you expect?
Bipasha: … Wait, you mean, you did? (To Harbin, incredulous) HE DID?
Harbin: Ahem. We did have a bit of an altercation with some locals, yes. But the topic at hand. He owns a starship, which may soon be flying, and his business plans are… in need of work.
Bipasha just stares at them, at a loss for words.
Helton: Ummm… Are you telling me I might be offering her a job?
Harbin stares back, an ironic smile implying “you heard me.”
Helton: Weeeeelllll, I guess I am. Can’t say what the
pay would be, or the working conditions… or duties, or location, or budget, or much else, as I just found out that the open was positioning, I mean, the position was opening…
Bipasha: …I think I’ll need to know a bit more.
Helton: Me too.
DISSOLVE TO
EXT - DAY - Pad D9
View of ship, now cleaned up, its eight landing struts extended to the mostly flat ground underneath. Bow and side ramps are open. SGT Kaushik is jogging past with the current two dozen recruits who are wearing camo and carrying 3mx20cm tubes over their heads like logs, three recruits per tube. Bipasha and Helton look at the ship.
Bipasha: So, this is your infamous starship.
Helton: Yup. Beautiful, isn’t she?
Bipasha: If you say so. Is she built for cargo, or passengers?
Helton: Yes! That’s the beauty of it; I can carry both! She’s got berths for more than a hundred passengers, and almost two thousand cubic meters of cargo space!
Bipasha: But that means that you have to be running both cargo and passengers, or you are running half empty. Very inefficient.
Helton: But some passengers have cargo to take with them.
Bipasha: Yes, a few. But you’ll be competing against liners specializing in just people, or semi-automated freighters that cheaply carry JUST cargo.
Helton: OK, maybe so, but we can offer better protection! This thing is armored!
Bipasha: Armored? You must be joking. Tonnage?
Helton: Twenty thousand.
Bipasha: Twe… So, not only do you not have a lot of cargo space, you are carting around thousands of tons of useless metal?
Helton: Do you always look at the down side of things?
Bipasha: You bring it out in me… I think we’d better take a look inside, see what the accommodations are like.
DISSOLVE TO
INT - NIGHT - Officers’ Mess aboard the ship
Bipasha sits alone at the end of the table, not looking very happy. Helton walks in with a glum expression. He carries a laden tray, from which he hands her a steaming bowl and mug before setting his own down two places away. He sits, the half-full tray on the table between them.
