The Stars Came Back

by Rolf Nelson

  Schumer: YES, FIRST SERGEANT!

  Harbin: Made second class yet?

  Schumer: Three times, First Sergeant!

  Kaushik: (Droll) Wonder why?

  Kaminski: Classified beans ‘n bullets, eh?

  Helton: (Politely) This “bucket” is very sensitive. It’s the best ship on the planet. Please talk nicely about her. You are talking to the owner, pilot, war goddesses and heroes recovering from combat injuries. Unlike yourselves. And the first sergeant’s niece… Care to start again?

  Schumer: Uh, we, uh-

  Harbin: Guru save us. PROPERLY, Private Schumer. I KNOW you were taught.

  Schumer: Private Schumer, Foxtrot 23rd combined arms support base Raptus Regaliter, reporting in with a convoy of three trucks for transport by the ship Tajmagica. Or something like that. This one. I think. Sir. I mean, First Sergeant. Or, uh…

  Helton: Yup, you found us. I’m the captain. Only three?

  Levin: The other six are supposed to be along in a little while. Sir.

  Helton: Well then, I suggest you and the other drivers hit the showers and get yourself cleaned up before the Colonel shows up and the First Sergeant gets back into uniform to take any official notice of your condition. If you pass inspection, I expect you might get lunch aboard before we lift. (Into com unit) John, got a few passengers that need to clean up. Can you show them the facilities, please? (To the two privates, still at attention) He’ll meet you at the top of the ramp. Go get your partners in crime, get ‘em squared away. You’ve got some time. Make the most of it.

  The two privates about-face and walk away, fast.

  CUT TO

  View of the two privates rounding the corner of the ship, talking quietly out of the corner of their mouths as they head over to get the other drivers.

  Schumer: Holy shit! Sergeant Reel! And a COLONEL. We are so screwed!

  Levin: But if he’s here and injured, and the Captain said recovering from combat injuries… Then they must have been the ones that took out the ADB!

  Schumer: Floggers! Even his niece is a bad-ass!

  Levin: Well, nice ass, anyway!

  Schumer: Not going there! Better ways to commit suicide.

  Levin: But if they took it out, maybe Flint was right, and it was only a light platoon, one with women in it!

  Schumer: I’d always figured those stories about how tough Plataeans are were just stories, and Reel was just a hard-ass, but-

  Levin: If they’re heading out, then something big must be up.

  Schumer: Ah, shit. This war sucks!

  CUT TO

  Side of Tajemnica, view of the R&R crew and soldiers

  Bipasha takes a sip from her glass. Kaminski flexes, gently, a bandaged leg. The sun inches up higher. Well-earned R&R, being lethargically enjoyed to its fullest, while it lasts.

  FADE TO BLACK

  Raptus Regaliter

  FADE IN

  INT - DAY - Tajemnica’s cargo bay on pad D9

  Ramp down, main door open, daylight streaming in. Seven trucks are on board, including three tankers. One cargo truck is being unloaded, and a large pile of crates sits where another was unloaded. The rest are parked, still loaded.

  Bipasha watches, then walks to soldiers stacking crates being carelessly unloaded from the back of a truck.

  Bipasha: You can’t just throw things in like that! You have to stack things carefully and secure them properly so they don’t go flying around if we lose grav or crash. And you have to tie down the trucks staying on board so they don’t roll!

  Private3: Look, Super, we’re just making a short hop to the outpost, have your Colonel say howdy to ours, drop off the rats ‘n ammo, ‘n fly back. The only way we’re losing grav is if the whole blipp’n planet loses it. And that’s only slightly less likely than finding a Planet Mover’s overdue library book.

  Bipasha: Maybe, but crashing is a real possibility.

  Private3: Crashing? More likely, but nobody survives a serious crash, so… (shrug)

  Bipasha looks at him considering a response, but instead chuckles and shakes her head.

  Bipasha: I’d be happy to have the First Sergeant check how well you followed loading instructions…

  Private3: Oh, no, no, that’s OK. I’ll make sure I tie them down, tight and proper like. Just point me to the tie-downs, ma’am!

  DISSOLVE TO

  EXT - DAY - High over base Raptus Regaliter

  A tan expanse of boring with patches of slightly more boring scattered about, in the middle of a wide basin chock full of boring, surrounded in the distance by mesas and craggy mountains. The base is a rough circle more than a kilometer across, with a collection of dug-in artillery, wheeled and tracked combat vehicles such as tanks and APCs, tents, trucks, supply bunkers, gun pits, and many individual fighting positions. Near the center landing area is a line of sandbagged prefab storage bunkers. Tajemnica arrows down toward it.

  CUT TO

  INT - DAY - Aft cargo ramp

  Tajemnica flies in toward the base. Quinn, Allonia, and a couple of the base soldiers stand back from the edge of partially lowered ramp, watching the expanse of plain pass below, the wind swirling around and ruffling hair. All are wearing safety harnesses and lines. A soldier points out features as they pass.

  Soldier: Those are the 120mm artillery pieces. They can shoot for more than 30 kilometers, into those hills. That’s an Armored Personnel Carrier.

  Quinn: COOL! Can we look closer?

  Allonia: I’m sure they’ll be busy!

  Soldier: No problem! Be happy to give you the two-cent tour!

  CUT TO

  INT - DAY - Tajemnica Bridge

  Helton, Quiritis, Cooper, Lag, Bipasha present

  Helton: How many people at the base right now?

  Ship AI: (OC, with heavy pirate accent) Thar be three hundred ‘n twenty-one o’ th’ wretched lay-abouts in port at the moment.

  Bipasha: Say again?

  Ship AI: (OC, still with accent) Thirrrrty two gentlemen, n’ th’ rest are th’ normal chum-dippers and plank-walkers.

  Quiritis: Why the accent, Taj?

  Ship AI: (OC) It be th’ nineteenth o’ September, o’course.

  Helton: And that means…?

  Ship AI: (OC) Ne’r ye’ mind, Cap’n, ‘til enemy sail is in cannon-shot, so we can hoist the black flag ‘n make buckets ‘o shark-bait of em.

  Helton: (Skeptical) Ooooo-kay then, three-hundred twenty-one scurvy dogs it is.

  CUT TO

  EXT - DAY - Ground-level view of Tajemnica being unloaded

  She is very low on her landing struts, almost flat on the ground. A tanker truck drives slowly off the ramp. There are still piles stacked and tied down in the cargo bay, but the trucks are all gone. A couple troops in the cargo bay are loosening tie-downs and unloading things.

  CUT TO

  EXT - DAY - Near a few sand-bagged buildings

  Cooper, looking dashing in his red uniform jacket, chats up one of the few ladies in uniform on the base. She’s average looking, wearing an ordinary baggy camo uniform. They walk off together.

  CUT TO

  EXT - DAY - Near a 120mm gun emplacement

  Quinn is being shown the gun by a soldier, while Allonia watches nearby. The soldier pushes one of the control buttons, making the barrel of the gun slowly elevate. He indicates that Quinn can push another button; as he does so the barrel slowly lowers. His eyes are wide, and he’s vibrating with excitement.

  CUT TO

  INT - DAY - Command bunker

  Lag and some senior officers are meeting over a large table with a map spread on it. The bunker is walled in sandbags and the low roof has heavy beams. In the background are several soldiers, junior officers and NCOs.

  Lag: Move, counter-move, counter-counter-move, you ended here. I understand how you got here, Colonel Zendek. But this place has been static for way too long. Something isn’t right, but if your intel is correct, I can’t for the life of me figure out the last half-dozen moves
and non-moves each side has made. Which means either there are complete imbeciles in charge on both sides-

  Zendek: (Dryly) More than possible.

  Lag: -or your intel is very wrong…

  Zendek: But where is it wrong?

  Lag: That’s what I’m here to try to figure out. Hopefully, eyes on the ground can clarify the situation. When your best estimate is a platoon, a company at most, and it turns out to be an entire air-defense battalion, someone isn’t doing their job.

  Zendek: I’ve heard the rumors, but that wasn’t our ops area; what can you tell us about that?

  Lag: The ship out there was contracted to fly civ refugees out, got wind of air-defense movement. Your guys said backbench platoon, we airdropped a squad in to deal with it. Turned out to be an officer-heavy battalion that we left as a large leg infantry company led by a lieutenant. Still not sure why that size unit was there.

  Major Farber: Good God! With a squad? At this tech level?

  Lag: There’s a reason your bosses hired us. Might have done more, but only three of the eight weren’t green recruits, and we only had a few hours to prepare.

  The camp officers digest this information, several emotions playing across their faces for a few long seconds.

  Zendek: If you were in charge, based on what you do know, what would your orders be?

  Lag: (Thoughtfully) You have some good equipment, and a decent collection of troops, but the mix of things and position is all wrong. Either some other unit stays here with totally different hardware, or you just pick up and haul ass right now for any of a half dozen better spots.

  Zendek: Are we at that much risk?

  Lag: Not sure what your risk is. I know your OpFor intel is wrong, just not how wrong, but your offensive abilities are totally wasted here. The Kiv can mostly ignore you.

  Zendek: But we have artillery! Air defense! Direct fire! Good soldiers!

  Lag: Yes, you do. But you have no obvious targets, and wheels and tracks give you insufficient ability to get to them. You do not appear to be blocking any movement, so you pose no threat that ties up Kiv units.

  Colonel Zendek looks a little surprised, then thoughtful, then concerned, as he looks at it from a new perspective.

  In the background, a soldier wearing a headset sits up and makes a quick adjustment on his set.

  Radio Tech: SIR, jamming again. Broad Freq, high intensity… Gone again.

  Zendek nods acknowledgment. Lag raises an eyebrow in question.

  Zendek: Jamming bursts happen regularly. More frequently recently, but shorter duration. Not a problem, but a nuisance. Doesn’t seem to cause any problems.

  He shrugs it off.

  Farber: Speaking of tech, I’m assuming you’d not take a prohibited ship to a military base, but should that thing be here?

  Lag: It’s unarmed, civilian registered. Feel free to have the compliance monitor check it out. It can haul some equipment and basic supplies and casualties, but not large numbers of soldiers or active weapons systems, limited even then to low speed airdrop only, unless the Kiv are in major violation. Speaking of, are you using tech-level only, or dual-level with the higher electronics disabled?

  Zendek nods understanding.

  Zendek: Dual level. Powered movement only. Aiming electronics installed but certified inactive. Generals didn’t want them fully crippled, but agreed because… well, I’m not quite sure, but here we are.

  Lag: Two edged sword. If the Kiv manage to get them reactivated, you are in violation, and they can rake you over with whatever they have up their sleeves unless you can prove they did it and that you didn't use it.

  Zendek: I just work with what they give me. You understand.

  Lag: Indeed I do. Be careful; being on the wrong side of a level violation gets real ugly very fast.

  They both lean in examining the map intently.

  DISSOLVE TO

  INT - DAY - Cargo bay

  The Compliance Monitor, a fleshy Caucasian man in his 50s, dressed sharply and looking very official, is walking through the cargo bay with Kwon. Kwon is dressed in a “ship’s uniform” that looks similar to the one Allonia made for herself.

  Kwon: It’s a good ship. A few circuits short, but tough and functional.

  Compliance Monitor: All I care about is that it is not in contract violation of the allowed weapons or technology.

  They pause at a wall com unit. The Compliance Monitor pushes a button.

  Compliance Monitor: (Into mic) What weapons are onboard?

  Ship AI: (OC, heavy pirate accent) The lubbers scuppered me cannons decades ago, th’ rat-molesting goat-horkers! Emptied th’ magazine a’ powder, left me in dry-dock fer scrap metal! Left me wi’ nut’n bu a jammed harpoon tosser done froze ov’r ‘n a busted Roman candle. Jus’ load me upagain, ‘n turn me loose!

  Kwon: (Apologetically) Like I said, a few circuits short.

  Compliance Monitor: (Surprised) What did the AI just say?

  Kwon: That we don’t have any weapons. I think. Wish we did when folks were shooting at us a couple of weeks ago, would have made life a lot easier. It’s a decommissioned warship, armored but unarmed.

  Compliance Monitor: Yes, I heard about that. Dangerously close to a violation.

  Kwon: But not across the line.

  Compliance Monitor: (Into mic) Confirm there are no weapons on board.

  Ship AI: (OC) O’COURSE there be weapons aboard, yu’ grog-guzzling guppy! A peck o’ pistols, racks o’ rifles, enough blades to fillet a whale, many a’ sharp wit and even sharper tongues, n’ I hear Mr. Kwon’s Tortuga sauce wi’ scorch yer arse-hairs the next day.

  Compliance Monitor: Most irregular. (Into mic) I mean, any weapons that are not personal arms?

  Ship AI: (OC, sounding comically sad and pathetic) A’side from the Cajun chili his missus makes, sadly, ah-no, nut’n bu’ personal arms. Ah’ been askin’ fer sum sumin’ fierce, but they leave me adrift t’ run aground, raggedy ol’ canvas flappin’ in d’ win’. Left me w’ nut’n’ but sharp elbows, a hard head, n’ a muddled mind.

  Kwon lifts his shoulders, spreads his hands and frowns is fatalistic acceptance of AI strangeness.

  Kwon: The AI personality software is a tad flaky, needs some serious work-

  Ship AI: (OC) I heard that, y’ puddle-padlin’ polliwog!

  Kwon: But it mostly works very well when shove gets to blunder. No, no weapons other than small arms. Be happy to show you around so you can see for yourself.

  Ship AI: (OC, quietly) There’s ‘n ill wind a’blowin’ out there right now, Mr. Kwon, sir; best be keepin’ close to th’ cable tier a few bells, ‘till we see how sh’blows.

  FADE TO BLACK

  Incoming

  FADE IN

  Tajemnica Bridge

  Quiritis stands alone at the controls, checking readouts, tweaking settings, studying images. On the main display before her is a map of the surrounding area. It zooms out rapidly, showing significantly more terrain. There are many clusters of red icons near the edge. Red and green static dances everywhere for a moment, then disappears.

  Quiritis: (To herself) What’s that all about?

  Ship AI: (OC, with heavy pirate accent, quietly) That be the sounding lead, testin’ the waters.

  Quiritis: Meaning?

  Ship AI: (OC) Someone looks t’be slippin’ into the harbor, quiet-like, to take us at anchor. Crow’s nest can’t see a thing, fog’s thick, but thar be a splash t’ be heard.

  Quiritis ponders the words a moment.

  Quiritis: You think we are under attack?

  Ship AI: (OC cautiously) Aye, perhaps, lass. But no shots fired yet, an’ we cann’a fire blindly in’t’ fog without knowin’ wha’ sail be thar.

  Quiritis: What sort of attack?

  Ship AI: (OC) Noises. Pokein’ ‘n prod’n wi’ lightnin’. Gettin’ their magic in’r compasses.

  Quiritis: Lightning? EM attack, hacking?

  Ship AI: (OC) Aye. Shit-magnet ‘peers t’be on full power, t’
is.

  Quiritis: But they can’t do that at this tech level! Jamming only.

  Ship AI: (OC) Aye. That’s why the crow’s nest is keepin’ a sharp eye, so’s we knows th’ targets well. Then we be clearin’ the decks in a hurry.

  Quiritis: Can’t you do something!?

  Ship AI: (OC, conspiratorially) Not movin’ duzin’ mean not doin’.

  CUT TO

  INT - DAY - Command bunker

  Lag and camp officers are still examining maps.

  Quiritis: (OC, through Lag’s com unit) Colonel, Taj says we are under EM attack. Not real clear on the details yet.

  Lag looks sharply at his com, then the base commander.

  Zendek: Who’s Taj?

  Lag: The ship. I’d take it seriously. An unusual bunch, but effective.

  They both look at the Com Tech.

  The Com Tech looks at them, shakes his head and shrugs his shoulders.

  Quiritis: (OC, though PA) All Tajemnica crew, return to ship immediately! Not a drill!

  CUT TO

  Tajemnica bridge

  The tactical displays are covered in static fuzz and red icons.

  Quiritis: What now?

  Ship AI: (OC) Thar they be, flyin’ colors at last. Now we see what sort’a skullduggery they be up’ta…

  CUT TO

  Near a tank emplacement

  Allonia, Quinn, and the soldier giving them a tour are looking it over.

  Quiritis: (OC, though PA) All Tajemnica crew, return to ship immediately! Not a drill!

  Allonia: (Into com) What’s the problem?

  Ship AI: (OC, through com) Sail in sight, ya’ best be gettin’ behind th’ armor, lass.

  Allonia grabs Quinn, picks him up, and runs as fast as she can for Tajemnica in the near distance. The soldier looks at them in confusion.

  Allonia: (Over her shoulder) HEAD FOR YOUR BUNKERS! SPREAD THE WORD!

  Behind her, soldiers begin to run this way and that. As she gets close to the ramp of Tajemnica, all hell breaks loose around the perimeter.

  CUT TO

  Command bunker