by Rolf Nelson
Helton: What sort of parts?
Stenson: (Hands him an e-reader) Here’s the list. At least one pair of mil-spec turbo encabulators so we can get two drives up; preferably three matched pairs, or an impossible matched six-pack, and some other things. I’m pretty sure they could be found at the big boneyard at Eridani II. Not very expensive ‘cause they are an old style, just hard to find.
Helton: Hmmm… That’s not too far from here. Maybe a ten day round trip. I’ll see if I can find someone to head over that way and pick them up.
Stenson: Outstanding. Still a lot to do even without them, so no hurry. I’m hoping to get the landing struts functioning soon, so we can raise her up and get at some under-side systems.
Helton: Any other major items on the front burner?
Stenson: Major? Not really. Until we can fly nothing is major. Some parts of the ship are still inaccessible, but they don’t appear to have any critical systems or things needed to train people on. Got a lot of oddball parts that we’re just pushing around until we know where they go, like those (points to a dark, squat mystery cylinder with a lit-candle logo, like those seen in the cargo bay earlier).
Helton: So, everything’s copacetic?
Stenson: From a mil-spec view, this stuff is about as kosher as a Christmas ham for Pongal during Ramadan, but they sort’a seem like they want to work. Hell, someone even tried to mount a Sokolov drive and a Harmon drive on each drive core. One on each end, with a bizarre helical twist on things between; I’ve seen theoretical studies on such an idea, but didn’t know of any that ever got field tested. Be sweet if that whole set could get spun up and synced.
Helton: Both on a single drive core? I thought they’d set up a constructive interference pattern in the resonance core and-
Stenson: -convert everything in the drive field into energy? Yes, that’s the theory. Well, one theory among several. But it’s there, and the ship is still solid, so it’s worth checking out. Best challenge I’ve had since I first met my wife.
Helton: Sounds good.
Stenson: Mostly it is, except for a few replacement parts that I’m sure need to be manufactured. They will be bloody expensive, the specs and tolerances given are so damned high.
Helton: Well, don’t forget to train the new guys for standard systems, too.
Stenson: I won’t, don’t worry! Lag wouldn’t keep me around if I didn’t. Allonia is doing amazing things with plants in her garden; the air system was rebuilt to circulate through that room, so even if we lose the normal scrubbers, as long as we have power for light, all those little photosynthesizers she’s growing for us to eat will keep the air good. That’s why it smells so nice. Some of the guys are learning a lot from her about the air systems. For some reason they listen to her more intently than me.
Helton: I’m shocked. But plants only make a difference if we get out of atmo, though. Keep me informed.
FADE TO WHITE
Frosty
FADE IN
INT - DAY - Stern port middeck passageway
Kaminski, Stenson, and Helton look over a welded shut access hatch.
Kaminski: Nothing a half-kilo of Universal Key can’t open.
Helton: We don’t know what’s inside. We don’t want to damage anything sensitive.
Stenson: I’ve already located all the critical drive, life support, and power systems, and none of them appear to be in there.
Helton: So your best guess on what’s there is still not a clue?
Stenson: Yup.
Kaminski: I say we blow it.
Helton: You just want to blow something up.
Kaminski: Well, yeah. Doesn’t everybody?
Helton: Good point. And, in this case, it might be the right approach.
Kaminski: Oh-boy-oh-boy-oh-BOY! Thank you. Back in a minute or three.
Kaminski trots off to get the needed supplies.
Stenson: The man does like his work.
DISSOLVE TO
Same passageway. Kaminski is finishing placing a line of plastic explosives along the weld line on the hatch. He inserts a pair of blasting caps, one at each end, and hooks up the wires. He starts walking back down the passageway, around the corner and into a berth room where Stenson and Helton stand.
CUT TO
Close-up view of the hatch
The line of explosives looks ready to go. Gradually the metal around the hatch changes, becoming more pale. It goes white and is rapidly covered with a slight layer of frost, which also forms on the explosives.
Cut back to Kaminski, Helton, and Stenson
Kaminski hooks up the wires to the detonator switch. Helton thumbs the wall com unit.
Helton: We will be setting off a small explosive charge in a moment or two, port stern B Deck. You might want to NOT BE there, or cover your ears. Don’t worry, I’m letting the professionals do it.
Helton releases the com button.
Helton: Tajemnica, anyone but us three in the area?
Ship AI: No.
Kaminski grins at Helton. Kaminski flicks the protective toggle up from the switch. He touches his ear plugs.
Kaminski: Plug your ears. FIRE IN THE HOLE! FIRE IN THE HOLE! FIRE IN THE HOLE!
He thumbs the fire button on the detonator. There is a very underwhelming bang. Kaminski’s face immediately reflects concern and slight confusion. He thumbs the detonate button again. Nothing. He pushes another button on the detonator, and it lights up green.
Kaminski: Got power. Something went off. Stay here.
He cautiously goes around the corner and pulls back the wires a ways. He can see there are no more blasting caps on the ends, so he reels it up while walking slowly toward the hatch. When he gets there, the explosives looks made of clay, and it just got splattered a bit by the blasting caps, but not initiated. He reaches out and touches it, feels it between his fingers. Feels the metal next to it, examines his fingers closely.
Kaminski: (Quietly to himself) Cold and wet?
Stenson and Helton join him.
Kaminski: What would make it cold and wet? Any plumbing around here?
Stenson: Head next door, but nothing in the passageway. Why?
Kaminski: This explosive won’t detonate if it’s too cold. The metal is cold and feels wet. So does the charge. Caps went OK, but they didn’t set it off. Either it got flash frozen while I hooked up the detonator, which seems unlikely, or we have a bad batch or something. If we had any cataclysmite I’d try a charge of that. Huh. Got some testing to do, I guess. I’ll let you know when I’m ready to try opening it up again.
FADE TO BLACK
Three Rules
FADE IN
INT - NIGHT - Cramped ship-board cabin
LT Kat sits at her desk, leaning back in her chair, reading, door open.
Allonia steps up to the door.
Allonia: Knock knock.
Kat: Evening.
She waves Allonia in. Allonia steps in and sits down, dressed in a red sort-of ship’s uniform; it’s sharp looking, professional, functional, and shows her figure nicely.
Kat: (Nodding and smiling in approval) Looks good on you.
Allonia: Thanks. I thought everyone else was in uniform, well, except Helton, so I should make something for myself.
Kat: You made that?
Allonia: (A dismissive shrug in affirmative) I couldn’t find anything locally I liked.
Kat: Very nice. But I’d avoid red uniforms. Color suits you, but it’s considered bad luck on starships.
Allonia: Oh.
Kat: …Something on your mind?
Allonia: How do you do it?
Kat looks at her, expression asking for further clarification.
Allonia: Put up with them all the time? I mean, they’re all nice enough, well, except Darch who kind of creeps me out, but it seems like they are always watching me, every move I make.
Kat: Men are like that.
Allonia: So, how do you do it? I mean, I know you’re an officer, so I’m sure that helps, but�
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Kat: Didn’t used to, all that much… The trick is to remember that men are simple creatures. You need to keep the rules simple so they know where they stand.
Allonia: Even wearing my normal clothes doesn’t help, and wearing this today attracted a lot of attention.
Kat: I can imagine. But it really is pretty simple. Three rules. One, don’t play games. Two, don’t put up with any bullshit. Three, you are already doing.
Allonia: But I don’t play games!
Kat: No, not overtly. I like that. So do they. But I’d bet that just about every guy on board thinks he’s got a chance to make it with you; you are not obviously off limits or taken with any particular person. Sooo…
Allonia: But that’s ridiculous!
Kat: That’s young men. You are young, healthy, smart, honest, hardworking, reliable, a great cook, available, and genuinely nice. Anyone that doesn’t notice you needs a psych eval. They pay attention, you don’t make it clear you are not interested, so they think that maybe you are, then.
Allonia: …Oh… What’s three?
Kat: Be worth it. We all have our hang ups and personal quirks. Bring enough to any relationship, private and professional, that you are worth whatever they have to put up with. I don’t think you’ll have a problem with that; you are short on issues and long on talent. Which ensures even more attention.
Allonia: Thanks. I guess.
Kat: If they get too forward, make it clear their advances are not welcome. Don’t be mean, just be absolutely clear that unwanted attention or bad behavior will not be tolerated. And, right or wrong, until you are clearly attached, expect them to be polite, demand that they be respectful and keep their hands to themselves, but don’t expect them to change. A billion years of biology doesn’t do an about face just because a damsel finds it annoying. Likely a good thing for the species, but… I know what you mean.
Allonia: So… you…?
Kat: Married 22 years. Once that happens, seniors like Colonel Lag and First Sergeant Reel make sure harassment is a nonissue, at least with uniformed personnel.
Allonia: But I don’t want to get married! At least, not right now!
Kat: Understandable. Until then, three rules. Makes things better, not perfect.
Allonia: OK. Thanks.
Allonia gets up and steps toward the door.
Kat: Allonia? Same cut, different color, and you have a winner. Make one for Quinn when you’re done, if you have time. Little guy would love it. G’night.
Allonia: G’night.
FADE TO BLACK
FADE IN
Kat's cabin, later that night.
Kat leans back at her desk, and sits thoughtfully for a moment or two. She taps a screen in front of her, it lights up. She pushes the MESSAGE icon, sits back.
Kat: Message encrypted level four. Send to Senator Sharmer on Adoni. Message: Lag is recruiting and training for shipboard duty. Working on making local contacts. Nothing further at this time. Out. Send.
A confirmation message confirming message being sent appears on the screen, then it blanks. She leans back, and closes her eyes.
The camera view pulls outside her door, where Quinn stands silently, surprise and curiosity on his face.
FADE TO BLACK
Earplugs
FADE IN
INT - NIGHT - Adelaide bar
Normal spaceport area midrange nightlife bar. Dim. Locals sitting or standing around drinking, talking, playing cards, shooting pool, socializing. No strippers, though there are a few couples dancing in a small corner clearing. At a small table near a corner sit SGT Kaushik and CPL Kaminski, out of uniform, facing away from the wall, talking quietly over drinks. An ancient blotto drunk wanders around a little, then staggers over to their table, looking at them a little too closely.
Old Drunk: You… you’re from the ship…
Kaushik: Everyone here is from one ship or another.
Old Drunk: No-no-no, you are from that ship.
Kaminski: (In good humor) Take it outside, you’ve had enough.
Old Drunk: THAT ship… That ship is going to go crazy…
Kaminski: You’re crazy.
Old Drunk: That ship is, is haunted, it’ll drive you crazy, an, an, an kill you like it did its old crew-
Kaushik: Dunno about that. Kaminski here is pretty hard to kill.
Old Drunk: It’s haunted! Always has been. It’ll go crazy like the rest of them. And you’ll ALL die. ALL of you-
Kaminski: (Humoring him) Of course we’ll die. Occupational hazard of the living.
Kaushik: (Playing along) Even people not on haunted ships die, eventually.
Old Drunk: You, you don’t unnershtand. It’s haunted. It landed without a crew. It killed them all. Twice! It went insane, they ALL went insane, and so will YOU. You need an EXORCISM like it did!
The bartender shows up, and hustles the old drunk out.
Bartender: Come on, Teddy. They are paying!
Old Drunk: (Yelling back over his shoulder) They all died. TWICE I TELL YOU! TWICE!
They watch him leave, along with the rest of the patrons, who are joking and shaking their heads.
Kaushik: …Must’a been Buddhists.
Kaminski: …Or cats. I like cats. Seven more lives to go! Cheers!
They clink their glasses and have a drink.
As the drunk is being escorted out another somewhat under-the-influence local comes up to them now they have become a temporary center of attention, a much younger, tougher looking gent almost as big as Kaminski.
Drunk: (Slightly slurred) You two’re new here.
Kaushik looks up at the drunk questioningly as if to say “Your point?”
Drunk: (Slightly belligerent) Newbies’er supposed to buy a round of drinks. I’ll take’a double shot ‘a double malt.
Kaushik: (Skeptically) I don’t think so.
Drunk: (Loudly to the crowd) Sure it is, isn’t it!
There are muted cheers of “yah, right on!” CPL Kaminski sighs, and starts digging in his pocket.
Drunk: (Bullying) Yeah, that’s what I thought. Pissies. Drinks on them!
More half-hearted cheers. CPL Kaminski takes earplugs from his pocket, makes a show of putting one in one ear, starts to put in the second one, gets interrupted by the drunk.
Drunk: What’n’hell are you doin’?
Kaminski: (Matter-of-factly) Earplugs.
Drunk: (Confused) Huh?
Kaminski: Well, knowin’ him (nodding to Kaushik) as I do, at the rate you’re going, any time now there’s going to be lots of shoutin’, n’shootin’, screamin’ ‘n sirens’n explosions ‘n shit, and I really don’t need a headache like that again.
Kaushik: (While pulling out and putting on a pair of armored gloves) Armored up?
Kaminski taps his chest with a THOCK and nods, still putting in his second earplug. The drunk looks at them with a dull, uncomprehending expression.
Drunk: Uh… Explosions?
Kaminski finishes putting his ear plugs in. He pulls out a large pistol from a hip holster, bringing it just up far enough to be seen above the table, does a quick chamber check (keeping it pointed safely down), and reholsters it with the casualness of much practice.
Kaushik: Hanshot?
Kaminski shrugs noncommittally, then talks slightly loudly and with exaggerated casualness to Kaushik, almost as if forgetting the drunk.
Kaminski: Think the CO will be as forgiving this time? Last time they were mostly in uniform.
Kaushik: Right. Best keep the collateral damage to a minimum.
Kaminski nods, unsnaps the security strap on a barely seen kukri fighting knife, draws it partway to make sure it’s moving easily, then puts it back.
Both soldiers look up at the drunk, who is looking somewhat confusedly back at them.
Soldiers look at drunk as if to say “Still here?”
Whole bar is tense and quiet except for background music, looking on expectantly.
Bar patron (OC): Hey, what abo
ut that game you promised us?
Drunk: Uh… Yeah, oh yeah, be right there. (Then, to soldiers) Uhhh… sorry… I thought you were new here.
The drunk disengages awkwardly and heads for the back of the bar.
The soldiers glance at each other, shrug. Kaminski starts to take out his ear plugs. Kaushik takes a sip.
Kaminski: Can’t imagine why they don’t let us come into town more often. Always so quiet and peaceful.
Unnoticed by them, in the background Seeless eyes them intently.
Kaminski see Helton and Stenson at the bar and waves them over to join them as they pick up a frosty mug each. They come over and take a seat.
Helton: That almost looked exciting.
Stenson: Anything colorful said?
Kaminski: Not by him.
Kaushik: Guy before him was much more entertaining. Said the previous crew on the Tajemnica died twice.
Stenson: How do you die twice?
Kaushik: Buddhists.
Kaminski: Cats.
Helton: Third marriage?
Stenson: Nah. Budget resurrection.
They all kind of nod their heads and smile or frown to indicate their general agreement with the possibilities.
Kaushik: How did the ship get here?
Helton: Landed on autopilot, crewless.
Kaminski: So they were dead?
Helton: Dunno. Just not on board.
Kaminski: How come the ship just sat for so long? Couldn’t somebody use it?
Helton: I looked into that. Lots of owners, not enough money or skill to fix it.
Kaushik: Does that mean you’re rich, or we’re grounded?
Helton: Ahem… Way back when starships were new and colonies scarce, it didn’t take more than a small ship like that to fly out trans-light, take care of things, and come back. As things grew and fights actually happened that destroyed a few of them around the Chi-Stan wars, the bean counters figured it was too expensive to put FTL drives and long range support equipment onto a high-risk assault lander, so they went to carriers. All the FTL drives and services go on the carrier that stays out of harm’s way, along with fighters and destroyers and cruisers to protect it and provide orbital support and cover, and some armored assault landers with only minimal onboard support facilities and in-system drives and so forth to land troops in high-risk places. So, navies didn’t want it.