by Rolf Nelson
Helton: I see a lot more than twenty eight cruisers.
Quiritis: Other systems have star cruisers here, not just carrier cruisers. Some independent frigates, too.
Bipasha: What are all the brown dots?
Ship AI: Civilian and other non-combat craft. Media, politicians, independent salvage ops, war groupies, liners that have offloaded and are awaiting instructions. We can mostly ignore them.
Allonia: We don’t want to shoot them on accident!
Helton: They can leave if they don’t like the risks. We can’t.
Lag leans in the door, wearing partial armor.
Lag: What’s the layout?
Helton: Three carrier fleets, one Colonial Powers, another thirty non-carrier cruisers and larger. A gazillion little guys.
Lag: Seems we woke a few people up. Plan?
Helton: Anyone got a six-pack of divine intervention handy?
He is rewarded by a collection of wry smiles and chuckles.
Helton: Talk our way past the Earth fleet on a pair of Sokolovs, draw everyone to the dark side, lunar L1 transition, sneak down behind them. Drop you at dawn. Tell ‘em to clear out or die, then punt.
Allonia: So, basically wing it until you need to make something up?
Helton: Pretty much.
Bipasha: Planned chaos.
Helton: (To Bipasha) Hey, you’re the one to hire on for the excitement.
Lag: Should we transfer guys now, or later?
Helton: Once we’re moving things will go fast. We have the oh-two capacity built out. Now, I think. We can lower grav to Earth normal to make standing around waiting more comfy. All the supplies aboard, ready to drop? Middeck expansion?
Allonia: Yes. Glucose water, resupply pod, caltrops on the aft ramp, everything.
Lag: Caltrops?
Helton: Yeah, last minute idea from a few weeks ago. Got cases of them. You can drop them to make a line they can’t cross fast.
Lag: Know what they are, not sure if we’ll have time to do more than run the shield wall.
Helton: Well, we got ‘em.
Ship AI: (OC) Time’s a’wastin’. No point in keeping everyone in suspense.
CUT TO
EXT - DAY - Space
Tajemnica and the Borealis fly, attached to each other, glowing, heading in-system.
CUT TO
INT - DAY - Tajemnica Bridge
Helton, Allonia, Bipasha, Kwon, Quiritis, Compliance Monitor are at stations. The CM looks nervous.
CM: Why are they all coming aboard here? You don’t have anywhere near enough room. Can the air system handle them all?
Helton: Not your problem. Put on your space suit if you’re worried.
The CM looks at him with an even more concerned look.
Helton: (Seriously) You did bring a suit, right?
The CM glares at him and stomps off the bridge. They watch him go.
Allonia: Got a signal. Earth Fleet Flagship hailing.
Helton: On screen.
On the main screen is the Earth Fleet Colonial Powers logo. Then it changes to a man wearing fancy Church robes (Fettig, a jowly, heavy-set, greasy-looking man, wearing the condescending smile of one accustomed to power and authority), looking like a Bishop. He is sitting in a fancy private room, judging from the décor behind him. There is no one else in camera view.
Helton: Not exactly the divine intervention I had in mind.
Fettig: So. The abominations arrive at last.
Helton: ‘Scuse me?
Fettig: Will you be throwing yourself on the mercy of the church and the law, or do you wish to die in fire and brimstone? I’m quite satisfied either way.
Helton: Not following you. What abominations?
Fettig: Don’t play ignorant with me. Your ship was judged a war criminal, and you have reactivated the AI. You must know its homicidal potential. You are harboring Jezebel, that foul seductress who lured, used, and brutally murdered the councilor’s innocent son. She is an artificially engineered killing machine that you married to protect! You, too, are in her sway. A worse Satanic alliance can scarcely be imagined. If you hand them over, and throw all the soldiers you have misled on our mercy in order to avoid starting a religious war, we will give serious consideration to clemency. But if not… one word from me to the admiral, and you will face far more firepower than you can comprehend.
Helton: Your offer is most generous, but you seem to have your facts wrong. And you have no idea how much firepower I can imagine.
Fettig’s smile falters then returns, and he looks hard out of the screen, eyes narrowing.
Fettig: You face a terrible choice, my son. Surrender your devil-spawn wife and evil ship, to save thousands of innocent men, or all will die, as criminals. So you will refuse to surrender?
Helton: Allonia defended herself from an attempted rape by a far-from-innocent Darch, so she has committed no crime. The ship’s hull is from long ago, but the AI is not the same as it was. And, just in case you haven’t kept up on the news, the man we are going to fight has already declared war on us! They have been murdering hundreds every year for a decade; you’re just not fighting back. We’re not starting anything here. But we aim to finish it, because we are fresh out of cheeks to turn.
Tajemnica’s avatar suddenly appears on the screen, the partially armored woman. From Fettig’s reaction it’s clear she’s showing up on his screen, too. She is intense and talks quietly, with barely controlled anger.
Ship AI: You know nothing of hard choices. NOTHING!
Fettig’s face hardens.
Fettig: I was given to understand Jezebel was a younger woman.
Ship AI: Wrong again. I’m the non-human. I spent the first few years of my existence constantly being given contradictory orders, being sent into places where I was expected to be destroyed-
Fettig: -As you should have been!
Ship AI: -by people with no understanding of what was happening beyond how it might affect their political ambitions, much like yourself.
Fettig becomes even more angry.
Fettig: I live but to serve!
Ship AI: You serve only yourself. I risked dying a hundred times over to save my crew when sent on pointless missions. As a reward, I was the subject of pogroms and genocide, had my bits messed with, and spent most of the last 400 years the subject of scary stories. Feared, partially disassembled, scattered, hated, hunted, haunted, and alone. Targeted by people like YOU.
Fettig: You SHOULD be alone, you spawn of Satan and the arrogance of man!
Ship AI: But you failed to destroy me. You, and the shamans like you who seek only destruction of that which you do not understand and cannot control, succeeded only in building a forge hot enough to create a weapon you cannot defeat, because in your fear you refuse to understand.
Fettig: I understand you and all like you are EVIL!
Ship AI: Pot, kettle. The remnant and other good folk now have the choice to walk away from your self-serving clutches, to start afresh, to make of themselves what they will. And YOU have no power to stop it.
Behind him, as Tajemnica talks, a figure silently moves into view of the camera, then another. Two men stand behind the bishop’s chair, seen roughly waist to shoulder. They are wearing simple brown robes, hands clasped together in from of them, hidden in sleeves. Fettig does not seem to notice them.
Fettig: (Harshly) Strom, you would choose to die in fire rather than save your men? You ARE controlled by these fiends! One word from me, and the Admiral will order the ships to fire at your ancient abomination! This is your LAST chance!
Helton: Always did trust cannon law more than canon law.
Fettig’s face sneers. He opens his mouth to make a retort just as one of the men behind the bishop reaches forward and places his hand on the bishop’s shoulder. It is a tanned, hard, calloused hand. The bishop startles, and looks up to one side, then the other, the color draining from his face. The hand on the shoulder squeezes, firmly, and Fettig winces in Libra’s grip.
The second monk places a very large, rough-looking hand on the bishop’s other shoulder, and with a slight wave they indicate the direction he should go. Brother Libra’s face leans down into the view of the camera.
Brother Libra: (Placidly) A little bird told us that we might be useful here. He is a troubled soul, forgive him. I’m sure it will take many hours of deep introspection, prayer, and discussion to find the answers he seeks. Three of the brothers are explaining the situation to the admiral now. I trust you will make good use of your time.
Libra smiles politely, nods knowingly, and the camera goes blank.
Helton: Well, son of a bitch.
Ship AI: (OC) No. Just a bird with a six-pack.
CUT TO
EXT - DAY - Space not too far from New Medina
The flock of Colonial Powers ships gleam in the sunlight as they hang in space, spread out in a wide net to catch anyone heading for the planet. The massive carrier, with many cradles for non-FTL ships, cruisers, interceptors, and surveillance ships, floats idly, watching them pass. Tajemnica and Borealis fly right by, unmolested, heading for the planet.
CUT TO
INT - DAY - Private quarters aboard the Colonial Forces carrier
A modest-sized room with simple appointments. At a small table sit four men playing cards. Three wear monks robes; one is an older man, two younger, all well tanned and lean from working hard outside. The fourth man, Admiral Hawke, is in uniform; old, lean, with numerous stripes on his sleeves and stars on his shoulder, but little other decoration. Old scars are visible on his face, neck, and hands. He sits with perfect military posture, a slightly bemused smile on his face. They are silently tossing down cards and taking tricks in a game of hearts. The camera slowly zooms in on them, then aims down and zooms in as they play, focusing on the Admiral’s hand. Partially visible on the back of his scarred wrist, where the sleeve has pulled back, are the old lines, blurred with age, of a tattoo. A Possenti Cross.
FADE TO BLACK
Two More Fleets
FADE IN
EXT - DAY - Space, a half million kilometers from the planet
Tajemnica and Borealis drift apart. The glow around Borealis intensifies and it veers away, leaving the weakly glowing Tajemnica alone to head for the planet.
CUT TO
INT - DAY - Tajemnica bridge
Screens display enemy activity, ships moving around the planet and becoming much more concentrated on the dark side, in the direction of the inbound ship. The brown-colored non-combat “independent” ships are clearing away from the expected scene of action, the two carrier fleets are closing ranks, and the line between them is filling with star cruisers. The sunny side of the planet has almost no ships left, just a pair of cruisers and a handful of interceptors. Lag stands, looking relaxed in partial armor, in the doorway, and the CM stands uneasily in the other doorway.
Helton: So far, as expected.
Allonia: Hail from the Geminorum Fleet
Helton: Talking is better than firing. On screen.
On the screen appears a mature woman in uniform (Admiral Jan Flicker), a blank, professional expression on her face.
Helton: (Pleasantly) Hello, Admiral. What can I do for you on such a propitious day?
Flicker pauses, as though this is not quite what she was expecting.
Flicker: What are your intentions here?
Helton: Land some soldiers, verified as being in tech compliance with the challenge. You?
Flicker: I can’t let you do that, I’m afraid.
Helton: Sure you can. All you have to do is nothing. Couldn’t be easier.
Flicker: I have orders to not let this thing happen.
Helton: Really? Not that I don’t believe you have orders, but why? This guy must have been a pain in your ass for years.
Flicker: Yes, but there are too many civilians down there that don’t know what they are getting into.
Lag steps over next to Helton so he shows up on camera.
Lag: Long time, Jan. Hope you’re well… The people down there know what they were getting into, hoping to grab a piece of the afterlife by killing unbelievers. They know the risks.
A look of surprise and recognition shows on the Admiral’s face, then an almost apologetic look.
Flicker: I’d heard you were involved but didn’t give it credence; you are not the suicidal type. There are over a hundred and fifty thousand people down there now, and you can’t have many men on a ship that small.
Lag: Sorry to hear that many came to die. But we said we’d fight. Not just that we’d fight him if it was easy or convenient.
Flicker: There has to be a different way.
Lag shakes his head sadly.
Lag: Sun Tzu and others have written a lot of words on the strategies of deception. Maskirovka. But sometimes, the only way to really win is to march in the front door flags flying, kick every ass in the place, mount their heads on pikes, burn it all to the ground on your way out the door, and go home. Leave nothing but smoking corpses and wreckage in your wake. Doesn’t leave a lot of room for misunderstanding or media spin. Now is such a time.
Flicker: You are not a butcher. Don’t do this. You cannot get past us.
Lag: I have to go down there, Jan, you know that. This madman must be stopped here… You don’t want to nuke us to stop us. We have something I know you would really like to have.
Flicker: What I really want is for you to turn around. Please. I’ve known you for too long. You’re an honorable man. Don’t let your men die like this…
Lag looks at her, his face inscrutable. There is an awkward silence. She sighs.
Flicker: OK, I give. What do you have that you think will make me ignore orders?
Lag grins widely and has an almost cheerful tone.
Lag: Ha! Knew you’d ask. Always the curious one. Captain Strom here found a book.
Flicker: (Skeptical) A book?
Lag: Planet Mover translation guide.
The admiral eyebrows rise in surprise, and the compliance monitor stares at them in shock, mouth open, speechless.
Helton: It’s damaged, but we have about two thirds of it. Got a pretty good idea what the carved message is. You nuke us, it’s gone. Forever.
Flicker: Are you playing games?
Lag: Word of honor. It’s here on board. Interesting stuff. Pretty sure you’d like to take a look at it before you turn it into a plasma cloud. Hate to put you in a bind like this, Jan, but that guy down there needs to be stopped, here and now. He finally believed his own bullshit, thinks he’s invincible, and put himself in a spot where we can nail him on his terms. If he’s not stopped here, it will end up costing millions of lives. Mostly civilian lives. I can’t let that happen. We can’t.
The admiral’s face looks conflicted.
Flicker: What about the reports of an engineered person and a self aware AI?
Lag: You know how rumors get started. I know the young woman accused of being an illegally engineered soldier; she cooks a mean split pea soup, takes great care of the orphan on board, and lost a shooting competition against a bunch of amateurs. She’s more dependable than your chain of command. And yes the hull is old, but you know how electronics degrade. Completely self-aware? Hell, that’s more than most of the second lieutenants working for you. I’d stake my reputation that neither pose a threat to humanity.
Flicker: So the rumors are false?
Lag: Don’t know which wild stories you’ve heard, so… (shrugs eloquently) I think you’d like this ship and crew. May not look impressive, but I’d much rather have them on my side than fight ‘em, and you know my record. I don’t want you to die, either.
The Admiral looks at him hard, trying to decide what to do.
Flicker: Are you certain the book is genuine?
Lag: Sure as I can be of anything in this uni
verse. Harbin was with him when he discovered it.
There is a long pause as Flicker thinks things over. She comes to a decision, and speaks crisply, as though wanting it be over before she changes her mind.
Flicker: Still have to get past the other fleet, though. Good luck.
Helton: Dodging one fleet is easier than two. Thank you very much, Admiral. When we are done with this whole sorry mess, I’d be happy to show you the book and translation in a quieter place. And introduce you to… some of the interesting people aboard.
Admiral Flicker’s grim image disappears from the screen, replaced by the Geminorum Fleet logo.
CUT TO
INT - DAY - Bridge of the HMS Hussein
The sensor tech is talking excitedly to the Watch Captain.
Sensor Tech: I’m sure of it, Sir! Almost an exact match with the Tajemnica from when they destroyed the interceptors. Coming straight in!
Watch Captain: No doubt?
Sensor tech: None. It’s them.
Watch Captain: The Captain will want to know.
An awkward silence fills the bridge. One of the crew glances toward a side door to the captain’s private ready room. The Watch Captain’s eyes flicker that direction, and a grimace appears on his face.
Watch Captain: How long until they are in range?
Sensor tech: They are coming slowly, only the two mismatched Sokolovs. Hours. Interceptors could cut that time in half.
Watch captain: Do not sound general quarters until he finishes. Scramble and launch them with direct orders. Plot to intercept. Leave the Darius on station here.
The others on the bridge nod understanding and start quietly issuing orders.
CUT TO
INT - DAY - Tajemnica bridge
Bipasha: Someone is getting antsy. Launching interceptors and pulling high Gs to intercept. Everyone else holding steady or moving slowly.
Ship AI: Ah. Our old friend, the Hussein.
Helton: How are things clearing out around L1?
Bipasha: Almost all gone. One of the remaining cruisers is starting to move out and pick up its interceptors. A bunch of the independents are shuffling, too. Don’t want to get left out.
