The Stars Came Back (12 page)

●  Helton is examining one of the “mystery cylinders” on the cargo deck (70cm across and 1m long with a 1cm hole in the top). The only markings are a simple lit candle logo/image on one end. There are several of them on the cargo deck. Helton tries to move one briefly by tipping it up but fails. It’s obviously very dense/heavy.

● 
Allonia showing Helton around a tight 12-man sleeping berth room, that still looks cramped even in good light, but no longer dangerous and haunted, just old and dirty.

● 
The galley, where it’s obvious a portion has been cleaned and is used by Allonia, the rest of the stuff just getting pushed semi-neatly aside. Allonia is pointing out where things are.

● 
One of the midlevel windows into the cargo bay with the window propped up and open. Allonia is pointing to the windows across the cargo bay, where we can see Quinn’s head run by other open windows, one after another, holding something up over his head like a flag.

● 
The “garden,” a largish room full of racks and trays, many of which have soil or water, and some plants growing here and there, along with a few small potted bushes. Workbenches and cupboards line the walls, and there are several light panels hooked up to some sort of battery/fuel-cell unit.

● 
Engineering Command Center, nearly eighteen meters long, a low room with lots of machinery. Many hatches/panel covers, some open. Wires and components exposed or hanging down. An empty, open tube entrance about half a meter across. Another hatch low against one corner with a barely discernible, and unnoticed lit candle logo. A largish tube with lots of stuff hanging off of it on one side. Several pieces of machinery hanging down from the ceiling. A partially disassembled torpedo-sized
something
on a wheeled cradle in the middle.

● 
The Officers’ Mess, a room with a long table in the middle, a dozen mounted pedestal chairs around it, cupboards and access hatches line the walls, along with a couple of screens. There are several one-meter screens/lights that look like they can fold down from the ceiling depending on what’s needed. Two are down and obviously broken.

● 
The head, obviously designed for large numbers to use fast: six shower heads in a communal stall, pocket doors on either end (one only half in), toilets in small stalls, eight small sinks with emergency “lost gravity” covers, and lots of small numbered lockers and cupboards.

● 
They open a heavy door off the cargo bay to reveal what looks like a small storage closet with a jumble of assorted mechanical detritus stacked in it.

● 
Allonia opens a door on B Deck, showing a clean and orderly, if small, cabin where she’s been living. Desk with a sewing machine on it. Chair. Bed. Decorative draperies. Bookshelves with a few books and various knickknacks, as well as a couple of plants under a light. It looks clean, bright, cozy. There is a door to one side, and an open closet door with a variety of clothes hanging in it.

● 
A small hatch like a miniature submarine watertight door on middeck passageway that is clearly welded shut along one edge. Allonia is pointing out damage on the door from previous opening attempts, and Helton is inspecting the welds.

[Appendix I has diagrams]

Seymore

DISSOLVE TO

One end of the cargo bay

Helton approaches one side of the big aft doors and pushes a button on the wall.

Helton: Open.

Nothing.

Helton: (
Pushing button again) Open
Sesame
.

Nothing.

Helton: Open the cargo bay doors, please,
Tajemnica
.

Ship AI: (OC, softly) I am afraid I can’t do that.

Helton: What?

Ship AI: (OC) I can’t open the cargo bay doors, Sir.

Helton: Why not?

Ship AI: (OC) They are manually locked, Sir.

Helton looks over at where the doors come together, and there is a very solid looking manual latching bolt shut fast. He gets a somewhat frustrated “well, DUH!” expression on his face, and momentarily puts his arms akimbo, staring at the latch. He walks over, and with great effort loosens and unlatches it. Nothing happens.

Helton: Open the door.

Off to his side, an airlock-type hatch door to the stairway opens with a creaking sound like a crypt that hasn’t been opened for centuries. Helton looks at it, a quizzical expression on his face.

Helton:
(Articulating carefully) Open the main aft cargo doors that I just unlatched.

With a rending, screeching sound
, as if the crypt occupant is annoyed at being disturbed, the massive doors grind sideways, revealing the closed loading ramp sloping up.

Helton:
Lower the ramp.

Ship AI: (OC) I would not advise that at the current time.

Helton: (Annoyed) Who’s in charge here?! I said lower the ramp.

Ship AI: (OC, softly skeptical) Are you positive, sir?

Helton: Yes, I’m positive!

Ship AI: (OC) Right now, sir?

Helton: YES! Drop the ramp RIGHT NOW!

There is a slight pause, the sound of metal
sliding on metal, then with a tremendous crashing, WHUMPing CLANG!, the massive ramp drops in freefall, hitting the ground hard, as if it’s not under control at all, sounding like an iron mountain falling to earth. Sunlight blasts in. Standing right next to now-nearly-horizontal ramp in a cloud of dust is a very surprised Floyd, eyes huge and startled. He turns slightly to look at them, and the ramp lying across his very recently made foot prints. He was missed by inches.

Floyd: Um, uh, yuuu…

Helton: Oh, God, was there someone behind you?

Floyd: N-n-n-no, bu-buuut… some
…

Floyd points
off beside the ship, trembling, in shock at his close call.

On the road near the side entry of the ship is a utility truck with several workers
and a lot of equipment in the back. On the ground and walking briskly toward them is a sharply-dressed pair of men. Seymore (mid-30s, very slick looking) and Seeless (50s, balding, paunchy, weaselly).

Seymore: (
Sounding like a used car salesman with a quart of high-octane coffee in him) Jed Seymore, Seymore’s Custom Aerospace Maintenance. Biggest and
best
ship shop in Adelaide. I heard that you were planning on refitting this fine old ship, and I am at your service. We can start with a full survey of her to find out what she needs, then work through a bill of particulars. Survey’s free if you contract the work out to us, and we are the
only
company that could possibly put this grand old classic back in service. When would you like to start?

Helton: (
Suspiciously)… How much for just the survey, no promises?

Seymore: Ah, a man that likes to keep his options open! Good idea. For a ship of this type and age, it would need a
very
thorough going over, and just the preliminary might take five or six-

Helton: Quote, or walk.

Seymore: Ah, well, it’s not like I can-

Helton: Five… Four…

Seymore: One fifty.

Helton: … A hundred and fifty
what
?

Seymore: Well, we’d have to-

Helton: (Firmly) NO.

Seymore: (
Indignant) What do you mean, NO?

Helton: If you can’t give a specific price for a specific service, then “
no
.”

Seymore: You can’t just turn me down like that
! There’s no one else around that can do this sort of work.

Helton: I’ll find someone.

Helton turns and walks back up the ramp. Seymore starts to follow.

Helton: (
Flatly) Off my ship.

Seymore: (
Getting angry) Now, look here-

Helton glances over
toward the truck. The group of workers have jumped out, and are walking over to their boss, carrying tools. Not just workers,
enforcers
.

Helton:… Let me think about it, and make some calls to see how things work around here, OK?

Seymore: (All smarmy smiles again) Fine, fine. That’d be just the thing to do. I look forward to hearing from you soon.

Helton walks back up the ramp, Seymore joins his men and walks back toward their truck.
Helton stands at the top of the ramp with Allonia watching them drive away.

Allonia: Well, the good news is that you just told Scam
min’ Seymore to take a hike, and saved yourself a pile of money.

Helton:
(Cautiously) And?

Allonia: He’s connected to the local mob
and
the city council, and is a big player in the Port Authority, so it will cost you an even bigger pile. He likely heard you paid the power bill and figured you were rich enough to want to bleed you personally.

Helton gets
an “ah, shhiiitttt” look.

Helton: Just lovin’ this
ship more and more.

DISSOLVE TO

INT - DAY - Officer’s mess aboard
Tajemnica

Helton sits at the table in
the now clean and sparsely appointed mess room, interviewing potential ship repair contractors that sit across from him.

Series of scenes

●  Skinny Guy in greasy overalls: Not gonna be cheap. Engines shot, grav’s shot, life support’s on life support-

● 
Well-dressed, plain-looking older woman: Initial survey would cost at least a quarter mil to get a comprehensive audit on what needs to be done-

● 
Fat guy: Not even worth using as a parts ship. Nothing on board is used anymore-

● 
Young guy: Looks worse that it is, nothing here you can’t patch or buy replacement parts for-

● 
Nervous-looking guy: Has Seymore turned it down yet? I don’t want to move in on him or anything-

Allonia is sitting across from him, an e-reader in her hand. Her hair is up, and she has a neutral expression on her face.

Allonia:
That’s everyone I could find who would even talk to you.

Helton looks back at her, slumping into his seat, depressed
looking and grim faced.

FADE TO BLACK

Orders

FADE IN

INT - DAY - Modest sized office

Four desks, eight chairs, two doors, good lighting, generic nearly empty shelves. A minimal, spare, recently-moved-into industrial look.

Lag sits at a desk reading an e-reader. He’s wearing a simple but
smart-looking dark blue military uniform. There is a knock at the door.

Lag: ENTER!

The door opens, and in walks a middle aged woman in a similar uniform, LT Kat. She’s slender and fit, with long hair in a braid; time and experience are doing a poor job of hiding the beauty of her youth. She walks precisely to the front of Lag’s desk, comes to attention, salutes.

Kat: Reporting for duty.

Lag casually returns the salute, waves to a seat in front of his desk and hands her another e-reader.

Lag: Welcome back. Good to see you again. Have fun on McCullum Prime?

Kat: (Smiling) Not nearly as exciting as working with you, of course, but no bullet holes, either. Good to be back; been too long.

Lag: Different sort of mission now. Wade th
rough that and tell me what you think.

Kat takes the offered e-reader, leans back, and starts examining it intently. The clock on the wall reads 0628.

DISSOLVE TO

Series of shots fading one into the next showing the passage of time

●  Kat in a different sitting position, clock reads 0833

● 
Kat and Lag both pacing back and forth, reading, clock says 0951

● 
Kat looking at the e-reader with a confused look on her face, opening her mouth about to say something, then touches the e-reader screen to look at something else, and bites back her comment. Clock reads 1013

● 
Kat tapping furiously on the e-reader, starting to say something, tapping again, biting off her comment, changing pages again, starting to say something, and looking even more confused. Clock changes from 1141 to 1142

DISSOLVE TO

Kat setting the e-reader on the desk, rubbing her face, looking tired.

Kat: Sir… as a long-time legal officer I’ve see all sorts of orders. But I have
never
seen anything so poorly written, contradictory, confusing, and patched together. It looks like a copy and paste from a hundred different standard-form directives, put together by a demented third lieutenant, with some random alterations of commas, periods, odd external references, numerous changing of “and” to “or” and vice versa. Bizarre mix of administrative budget cutting, logistics support, working with local contractors, recruiting, transporting of down-cycle troops, reconnaissance, border clarification, training, combat, pirate hunting, negotiation, and God only knows what all else. I officially have absolutely no idea what the
hell
we are supposed to do or what the priorities are, what assets we have, what the budget is, where we go, or what sort of timeline we have. I’m not even sure who you report to! 136 sections, 81 appendices, and at
least
a half dozen circular references-