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Enter:
CHAIRMAN shows steaming CUP.
On Destiny? Shouldn't you be at your Headquarters or wherever,
(gestures)
orchestrating this whole... thing?
Pouring another coffee CUP:
I'm right where I need to be. Destiny's the center of it all. You could say this ship is the center of the Universe.
Taking the offered CUP:
CHAIRMAN runs his fingers around a Console, caressing its contours. Starts KEYING it.
ONSCREEN: the "Universal Signature" the Ancients found woven into the CMBR. Random-looking. Endless. Hypnotical.
(closes eyes briefly)
After all these years, I still dream of Destiny. Not just my time here, but all the 'what-ifs' too: If we hadn't boarded. If we'd turned the ship around...
(re: SCREEN)
This could be a fool's errand. A fault line, a crack...
(sniffs coffee)
A trail, a signature, a coded message, a beacon. The shadow of a supradimensional structure we are too limited to see.
(tastes the coffee)
Keying some, so the SCREEN shows changing VIEWS:
Pure random noise. A cosmic joke. Or the supradimensional equivalent of the "You're Here"
(smiles)
ink blot for a map that no longer exists.
(half-smile)
Well, call me an old fool, but perhaps I could get the answer by myself, once enough pieces of the puzzle were collected.
Ahhh. Of course: The Stasis Pods. You think maybe the Ancients wanted to see if the Universe had an edge, after all?
Well, good luck to you, then. I hope
(toasts with coffee cup)
you aren't disappointed in the end.
Indeed. I've had this conversation so many times, all these years. The plan owes you a lot...
Novan computing systems are pretty cool. Military and engineering simms aren't the only things they can host.
Dr. Perry sends her warmest regards. So does her lifelong partner, one Dr. Nicholas Rush, whom I found safely stashed in a backup buffer
when unpacking Destiny's Database. Both were of great help in our FTL development. A good source of inspiration, all things considered.
I've spent most of my life hiding things that nobody else should know. Old habits die hard. Don't worry, Dr. Rush: I trust your survival instincts and your commitment to the mission.
(sips coffee)
Yeah, living to old age while racing to save your world from extermination will do that.
Novus is still an ashtray. Nothing's changed that. I've lived as a Novan twice longer than on the planet of my birth. Even if I tell myself that we're an Earth colony, Riley and Ginn are Novans now. My family, my business partners, our political allies, the military commanders helping us... My world.
Essentially, chicken. With a dose of poker: We're betting that the enemy will bet their all and our hand's stronger.
I know how they'll play in the future, in the other timelines. I know their best cards aren't around yet. I know there's a limit to how fast their reserves can come at us.
ONSCREEN: The 'Gauntlet' holo-map showing Command Ships at every Gate & suitable star ahead / behind of Destiny.
(looks closer?)
So Destiny's still stuck. I was hoping maybe some of those were among the ones we destroyed.
Perhaps they are, and they've been replaced. We'll know for sure when our sensors have had more time to confirm the data. Do you have a clue just how many more Command Ships and swarms will come hit us before this is over?
(shrugs)
100s. With luck, a couple thousand. Marshall told me what they had and could rebuild when they destroyed his forces. Guessing backwards isn't an exact science.
(alarmed?)
I see. I'll try to scan further around us, then. Maybe you'll reconsider our options if the odds are too overwhelming.
Yes, please do. The odds are overwhelming, but we could use better intel. Don't bet on changing the best plan we have to free the galaxy, tho.
Chairman, someone's looking for you here.
The COOKS starting to use the ATOM CHEF. Soldiers/techs carrying (parts of) a big Novan Anti-Aircraft MACHINE GUN + crates of AMMO. More WELDERS at work. No spent AutoCannons left around.
CHAIRMAN enters, sees 'em.
FLASHBACK:
CHAIRMAN stands in full business attire, PAD in hand. All the others (many now in the visitor group) SHOUTING, raising hands...
END FLASHBACK
(smiles)
My friends! Just in time! Had a nice trip? Something you wanna see first? Someone you'd like to meet?
(double-check)
Where's Senator Taylor?
T.J. (serious, arms crossed) and YOUNG quietly talking in a corner. He GETS her to half-smile. Miracle or mirage?
(sips coffee)
So, what do you think of 'im? "Steve Jobs" me, not "Pirate Captain" me.
RUSH (at Console) FROWNS.
FLASHBACK:
(re: PAD)
... there can be nothing more important than this! Drone attacks are too serious!
Chairman Wallace, you're asking us to risk everything!?
You've been singing that song for years, Wallace. You never said just how expensive it was gonna be!
Expansively gesturing:
A bargain at a million times the price! If you consider the Novan Federation, and all the galaxy, to be worth the effort, of course.
But you want us to take your word, and just have faith in everything you say!?
OTHERS join the protest.
C'mon! You've known me for a long time: I built this company with your help. I made you wealthy beyond your dreams. Now the time has come to have a little more vision!
All right, Wallace: It's time we see and touch where our resources are going. What simple numbers cannot tell: The war you say we're paying, first hand.
Hands on table, serious:
Senator, members of this board, friends: If you think I'll be handing out V.I.P tickets to walk around Destiny while in the middle of the greatest fight of our History, you're in for a surprise!
He EYES everyone. They (worriedly) eye each other.
He shows a freshly-printed
Destiny Special INVITATION:
Senator Taylor + guest TICKET to Taylor's SCREEN.
Ahem... I think it will take more than that to...
(notices)
Wait: is that tomorrow's date?
Tantalizingly HOLDING more fresh-printed TICKETS:
YOUNG (from Ancient Screen. No image?)
Ready for another round!
As the guests gape around:
They just miscalculated. Did I ever
(keys Console/wristPAD)
...tell you about the 3rd Siege?
Oh ho! I remember that one! Many years ago. But how do we know this is the same?
RILEY arrives.
At his chair:
What are they waiting for?
They're outta range!
Checking:
Doesn't matter. Ready 'em for input parameters. Chloe!? I'd like you to check some numbers.
This is gonna spawn a lot of harmonics. Controlling the waveform will be a nightmare. Lemme tweak it a bit.
Pausing:
Ready! And... receiving new params.
Colonel Young?
MAIN GUNS FIRE.
You wanted to see the war: This is as safe as it gets.
(to mic)
Love, ready for some action?
Always!
DRONE POV:
Soon as range's good enough, Drones start SHOOTING.
Keying / reviewing:
Faraway EXPLOSIONS heard. SPARKS.
That rattled the wasps' nest!
Then a couple smallish crates marked
GENERAL BUILD /
REPAIR ROBOT.
SPIDER MK VII.
Hardened for
vacuum &
hazardous
environments. with fancy company LOGOS, then 4 or 5 more.
Keying Console:
(re: PAD)
Swinging these electric charges is gonna deplete 'em almost as fast as if they were firing!
DRONE POV:
ZOOM OUT:
As DRONES lose their comms & intel, they stop firing, CAREEN off course.
Mid-flight COLLISIONS.
Those falling towards Destiny get a dose of Ancient BEAMS.
Still, some HIT: One of them, rotating slowly, BOUNCES harmlessly (with a KLANG) off the hull (as AutoCannons drifted out of the way). Elsewhere, another drone, spouting flames/sparks & rotating fast, SMASHES into the hull in a fiery EXPLOSION.
Not yet. So far, so good: The Command Ships are too far to overcome our signals, but that could change in a second.
Jamming holds! But for how long?
(wondering?)
Stalemate?
Each and every one of them is PIERCED by clustered SURGICAL BEAMS, some from point blank range, others from farther away.
4 become DORMANT. 6 EXPLODE. 2 (damaged?) JUMP to FTL. All 12 swarms remain, slowly drifting away from Destiny, sometimes drones COLLIDING with others or getting BLASTED by Ancient beams.
Battle OVER.
BRODY (Xmas mode) unpacks 1 of the Repair Robots. Out of the box FLOATS a fat kino-like sphere with 10+ slender tool LIMBS/APPENDAGES, a close cousin of what the welders are using.
We got lucky. They won't repeat the same errors twice. And we might just have shown our best card.
BRODY fishes out the Repair Robot's REMOTE (with a smallish
Star Industries logo)
Harvest time!
Hands on railing:
Is it over?
(grinning)
This never gets old.
Sooner or later the enemy's gonna notice.
Checking Console:
Notice what?
We're not alone...
Here & there in the disintegrating swarm, drifting INTACT Drones VANISH without a trace/sound as if something invisible (or several) was VACUUMING them in. 900+ still to go.
REVIEWING Console info:
Holo SCREEN shows sensor data.
Has to be: Subspace distortions of the same kind a Stargate creates. Background radiation bouncing and vanishing where there's nothing to justify it. Plus all those 'magical' beams. If there aren't at least a half-dozen large cloaks operating around us, you can call me Santa.
Re: another SCREEN:
Enemy forces Jumping to some kind of staging area, ready to pounce on us. It's all we can get with long-distance sensors.
As another ENEMY ICON joins the 15+ already in the graph:
Reviewing PAD with BROOKS:
Sounds good. The engineers will add 'unconscious alert' routines to the 'field-ops' ear-mics.
DRONE POV:
CHOOSE targets. SHOOT. FLY thru Ring. LOCK TARGET. SHOOT.
BACK TO:
As the 1st few drones fly into the cave & start FIRING on buildings, cranes, & all, the GATE at the far end DEACTIVATES, its stream of crates & supplies stopped. It starts being LOWERED into the protective PIT, same as its companion RING, with scaffolding & all.
Semi-automated Anti-Aircraft BATTERIES (beam & bullet) with plenty protective HOUSING spring to life, start SHOOTING BACK.
Number 2 reports drone fire! Wait!
(his PAD flashes new info)
Number 3 reports enemy's just Jumped in-system!
Tell 'em to go ahead and defend themselves, Riley. Don't worry about 'em, Marshall: We knew this was likely to happen.
RING ACTIVATES, starts SPINNING.
Indeed it would, if we hadn't planned for it.
(to his mic)
Love, you better hurry!
Novan techs in EVA suits assemble HEFTY multi-barrel bullet-spewing AA BATTERIES at the 2 free shuttle PADS, 1 forward-facing, the other rear-facing. Temporary special-purpose DOORS + protective overhangs & scaffolding being fitted to DOCKS.
DRONE POV:
There's several protective layers of fiber-composite 'plastic' (translucent) SEALS inside.
SHOOT plastic to shreds. FLY THRU INTO:
As 'wind' stirs towards the man-made WELL and the 1st few drones FLY into the man-enhanced (yet natural) cave and start FIRING:
People get into refuges. Both GATES start being lowered (with scaffolding & all) into protective PITS. AA BATTERIES (bullets & beams) start SHOOTING BACK.
Danger: Energy SHOCK being PUSHED out of the way.
2 largish machines (computer mainframes, on STANDBY) have GATED IN, are being freed from travel PADDING. The 4 injured welders arrive on floating stretchers, followed by CHAIRMAN (with the GUESTS & kinos).
Last: 4 stretchers with body-bags, more SPENT/battle-scarred AutoCannons...
After briefly conferring with the Gate Techs & RILEY:
It's all sorted out. Don't worry, my friends: travel's safe. And thank you again for your support.
RING ACTIVATES, starts SPINNING. SPENT AutoCannons start FLOATING towards it.
Any news?
FOLLOW 'UPSTREAM': exit the cave entrance. Leave mountains behind. UP thru the upper atmosphere.
SUDDENLY, from relatively close quarters, surgical BEAMS appearing from nowhere SHOOT it. It RUPTURES, EXPLODES. The drones, inert(ial), FALL to the ground like so many meteors/stones.
FOLLOW falling drones INTO:
Finally, GATE DEACTIVATES.
As MARSHALL reacts:
VERY FAMILIAR MALE VOICE (from Console)
Amanda, where's your manners? We're guests here!
Hi, auntie Mandy! Hi, uncle Nick!
Consoles show 2 AVATARS surrounded by a spartan VIRTUAL background (sunlit 'roman classical' garden gazebo?).
Don't call 'em that!
(to Consoles)
Sorry 'bout the delay: We got attacked.
Keying:
2 for the price of 1!
Amanda PERRY (from Console, 'idealized', lightly AGED)
My sweet Nick! So wonderful to see you again!
('idealized', lightly AGED, joins Perry's Console)
Ahh, Dr. Rush. You ain't changed at all!
Might as well be here, tho: We'll merge memories when we're back.
Hello, Mr. Brody! Wow, you've made a lot of progress! Lemme handle that.
As BRODY REACTS:
1 of the Spider Robots waves 'hi' with a tool appendage. Another follows suit.
Wh...?
The holographic ghost/avatar of the ship's AI stands before his eyes.
This mission was never only about gathering a lot of cold, hard data, y'know. Unmanned probes could have done that, far more efficiently.
What do you mean?
But he's ALONE again. Was it a dream?
(startled?)
What!?
Sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt. I want to help. If you're so kind as to update me on the overall situation...
Dr. Rush? But...
Just his consciousness. I've helped Chairman Wallace for decades to plan for this day.
(unthrilled?)
Great.
SCOTT and CHLOE enter.
Did you hear about the new Drs. Perry and Rush?
(sits at Console)
Technically, they're the 'old' ones.
(tired?)
Day keeps improving...
At the SHUTTLE PADS: Hefty AA BATTERIES fully installed, with cabling + AMMO 'belts' running into the specially-built protected DOORS.
ZOOM OUT: No intact drones left amid the debris CLOUD still drifting away from Destiny.
Drone Command Ships start JUMPING IN, until 20 surround Destiny from a fair distance.
Keying wristPAD:
Next round!
Again? Can't be!
Here you are!
(as they REACT)
Very well. We got work to do!
Keying:
As each Command Ship & swarm ADVANCES towards Destiny, its drones start FIRING, against nothing.
Fast-flipping screens on his PAD:
Concentrated on SCREENS:
Keying his Console:
They're sweeping!
Oh, no...!
FOCUS:
SOME beams 'vanish' behind an invisible curtain. Then many more BEAMS CONCENTRATE on the same 'empty' space.
The same happens at several places, some closer to Destiny than others.
Suddenly, after the briefest "cloak flicker" reveals a FAMILIAR SHIP OUTLINE, a large EXPLOSION erupts from one of the attacked 'empty' spaces, OBLITERATING a bunch of drones.
Finally:
GINN (O.S. from mic, strained?)
Way ahead of you, honey!
Closer to Destiny's nose, drones concentrate FIRE a fair distance behind a FLOATING/DRIFTING dark-reddish FIGURE (so small and FRAGILE) aimed for Destiny.
As a large EXPLOSION grows behind her, GINN (fully suited) mini-kino-ACCELERATES her flight towards safety. Alas, Destiny isn't still.
Several drones CONVERGE on a new target...
DRONE POV:
EVADE Ancient FIRE. TARGET LOCK. SHOOT. BEAMS from several drones RACE for her. DRONE HIT & OUT.
All around, 100s of drones are close enough to engage. AutoCannons, Ancient GUNS & AA Batteries RAIN destruction on them. They FIRE BACK.
More shield hits! We're losing cover!
Guns are starting to overheat!
Piloting:
(worried)
Ready main guns.
(to mic)
Chairman, time for those LongBows to show their worth! Chairman!?
VIEW FROM railing: AutoCannons FIRING & rippling, blanketing the space ahead, BLOWING UP drones non-stop.
Keying his PAD:
The PAD shows a quick sequence of windows / lines:
Network EMERGENCY access Menu.
Find node: 'Ginn'
..........
(after some more 'waiting dots')
Contacted.
(scrolls to:)
Last activity: 5m34s ago.
GINN's in a heap on the floor, beneath the HULL BREACH (with 'seal' shielding). Poor light (from his LOGOS, outside BEAMS...) conceals the extent of her INJURIES.
CHAIRMAN rushes to GINN, kneels beside her, LIFTS her in his arms, rocks her gently against his chest, GETS UP, starts turning around.
Her left SHOULDER is a mess. GINN (pained) opens her eyes, half-smiles, MOUTHS something (inaudible).
As he RUNS carrying her (past camera) to the door, GINN's bloodied right side can be briefly glimpsed.
FOCUS:
An ALARMING PUDDLE of Ginn's BLOOD on the floor.
Abandoning post:
(rolls eyes?)
Eli, don't. Stop it!
She's still alive. But won't be if we don't keep Destiny in one piece!
Keying Console:
Back to Console:
(points)
I know. Let's jam some of 'em while keeping the FTL section at maximum shielding.
(to mic)
Marshall!? We need fresh ideas here!
ENEMY FIRE can be seen/guessed thru WINDOWS & hull breaches. SOUNDS of HITS. DOORS close (to keep air from escaping).
Command Ships circle slowly, perhaps closer than they were, protected by 100s of PATROLLING drones.
CLOSE UP: shields absorbing enemy FIRE, rippling, failing to stop it all.
Hull gets HIT. Ancient Guns get HIT. AutoCannons (some while protecting LongBows) getting hit, EXPLODING. Novan heavy AA Batteries protected by ADVANCING covers, multiple drone BEAMS hitting their thick hardened surfaces. Engines SHIELDED from the worst of it, barely.
100s of drones INERTIAL, hardly enough to matter.
Plenty of far & near EXPLOSIONS heard. Lights FLICKER. Everything SHAKING (once or twice). A Power Relay OVERLOADING/FRYING OUT. A small fire ERUPTS. Smoke.
Fire in the hole!
Main Guns FIRE, MISS their target. FIRE AGAIN. Consoles show LongBow BEAMS falling SHORT too.
We need to get closer!
I'm trying!
Keying Console:
Keys PAD, activating RING:
We'll need a full replacement set for each of 'em.
(to Console)
Colonel!? You sure that's the best sequence?
THEIR POV: Stasis corridor. CHAIRMAN on his knees beside an ACTIVE Stasis Pod, a BLOODIED hand still on CONTROLS, looking inside, frozen by fear.
FOLLOW THEM.
BROOKS barely glances at him, PEEKS inside the POD.
HER POV: GINN's BLOODIED face (a nasty GASH on her cheek) & armor suit. Her eyes closed. Nasty-looking bloody HOLES on her left SHOULDER & right SIDE (around liver). Her right hand GONE above wrist. Her cracked helmet on the floor beside her SITTING body. Small puddles of her BLOOD.
(gentle)
Good thinking, getting her here. I don't remember these things being able to fix injuries like that, tho.
Unfreezing:
Her idea. Too much blood loss. She... she just passed out as I put her in. If not for cauterization she'd have... she'd be...
Checking CONTROLS:
(hesitating)
No. Not yet. But everything else... Her body's failing, even in Stasis. Look at the size of those wounds!
(tearful)
I can't lose her again! I cannot... And our kids... So little time! Less than a minute left...
(realizing)
... which translates to... 2 hours out here!?
Rushing to exit:
As the assistants follow her, CHAIRMAN raises his bloodied hand.
Not looking back:
Chairman Wallace! Depots are under attack again!
The Supply Depots are the backbone of our operation. Riley, tell 'em to stick to the plan. If, as and when needed.
Is that all?
DRONE POV:
SWERVE. SHOOT. EVADE.
HIT & OUT.
LongBow FIRES a good-sized (bluish) BEAM, straight at a Command Ship. It reaches 30% further than Destiny's MAIN GUNS, but still DISSIPATES before reaching its target.
Now what?
Keying Console:
Riley's PAD shows a WARNING:
Peak yields above 65% not allowed
under safe operating procedures.
OVERRIDE SAFETIES (Yes/No)?
Enter:
(briskly)
Dial the field Hospital!
Keying PAD:
ALONG the beam's PATH: every drone is BLOWN up by Novan or Ancient SHOTS. Leaving the drone CLOUD behind, it nears then PIERCES a Command Ship, setting it ON FIRE.
All over the slowly REVOLVING Destiny, LongBows glow RED HOT, start FIRING. More drones SWEPT out of their way. About half of them REACH their targets (some thru escorting drones), the rest either MISS, hit with no significant effect, or hit drones.
Command Ships get HIT, RUPTURE or EXPLODE. The dronestorm falters, hesitates, a sizable portion of its elements losing direction, many others SPECTACULARLY COLLIDING.
Working Console:
We need another round of those!
Speed-keying PAD:
How long?
Far & not-so-far EXPLOSIONS heard / FELT: people reel or lose their balance, 1 Console throws SPARKS & shuts down. Some lights go OUT.
Reviewing:
Aiming with Console:
We do it the hard way.
Piloting:
We cannot take much more of this!
Then we'll have to make a run for it.
Lemme see what I can do.
ACTIVE Gate. ALARMS. Everybody running for cover. AA BATTERIES focus on water curtain.
BROOKS gates IN.
A drone FLIES inside THRU the falling water, wobbles a bit, straightens course, starts FIRING.
Gate DEACTIVATES. Both (inactive) RINGS start being lowered to 'safe' position.
Soldiers help BROOKS to safety.
The assistants start setting up stuff around the POD.
(hesitant)
She helped me all these years, all our planning, and now... there's a flaw I cannot fix!
As T.J. gently but firmly starts PULLING him away from the Stasis pod:
(fearful)
I cannot... think! I am... the weak link! She knew it... That's why she... insisted on coming here! What have I d... ooohhh!!
The assistants set the kino-STRETCHER on the vacated floorspace before the pod.
T.J. (drawing from own feelings?)
You gave her everything. A new life, literally. She couldn't bear the thought of losing you. She wanted to fight by your side, come what may. That's...
(beat)
Love, I guess. Don't blame yourself.
Not-so-far enemy FIRE makes everything SHAKE.
2-3 HULL BREACHES spew LongBow spheres while 'gobbling' others, interspersed with spent AutoCannons.
A 'spent' LongBow (inactive, lying on the hull, very lightly SMOKING) with only its lone central (smaller) sphere still attached. 4 replacement spheres fly IN, quickly ATTACH themselves under arched 'legs'.
DRONE POV:
ZOOM OUT:
LongBow BEAM exits dronestorm, reaches far enough, HITS a Command Ship, RUPTURING IT. Its drones instantly lose 'focus', causing multiple/chain COLLISIONS.
Re: Console:
Wow! He's fast!
Checking PAD:
Another Command Ship ICON BLOWS UP. The 6 remaining swarms CONCENTRATE on the LongBows.
Piloting:
Oh, no, you don't!
'Muskets' are dropping like flies!
Can't lock a target unless we stop!
Piloting:
We need to lose 'em!
Keying Console:
Checking PAD:
The GENERATORS PULSATE faster. The techs cautiously retreat.
Both already-lowered RINGS being covered by HEAVY Metal/Stone 'floor' DOORS.
As the dronestream THICKENS, little by little they begin to enter & SHOOT everything in range.
As their flow INCREASES, little by little they begin to enter & SHOOT everything in range.
AA Batteries pour DESTRUCTION towards water curtain. No drone's getting past, yet. HITS, EXPLOSIONS / CRASHES.
Little by little, their numbers allow them to advance & SHOOT all they can.
FOLLOW dronestream 'upriver' THRU waterfall, across JUNGLE, upwards to high atmosphere.
AUTOCANNON POV:
EXIT TO:
All around Destiny, most AutoCannons (old & newcoming) no longer sit on the hull, but FLOAT several body-lengths from it, gaps being quickly PLUGGED by the spewing 'fountains'. Destiny's SHIELDS stretched farther from the hull. Weaker, but...
LongBows FLOAT slightly retracted from 1st line of fire (for protection), the 'spent' FLOAT 'lower' awaiting 'recharges'. Here & there, 10s of DAMAGED yet unspent AutoCannons sit on the hull, helping manoeuvers.
As seen from BEHIND a curtain of BEAMS from both sides.
Drones concentrate SHOTS on the spots nearer the LongBows. The increased ranks (doubled or more at some places) of AutoCannons pour deadly FIRE on them.
Destiny slowly ROTATES with the 'musketry cocoon' keeping pace, the balance of (fire)power slowly tilting against the attackers.
Amid much debris & patrolling drone 'bodyguards', 6 Command Ships circling. Some getting closer, others farther away.
A LongBow BEAM escapes the dronestorm, BLOWS UP a Command Ship. Another narrowly MISSES its target. Closer to Destiny, drones lose direction, CAREEN & COLLIDE.
His Console overbusy with BEAMS & HITS:
Can't see a thing!
C'mon, lieutenant!
Keying Console:
Here! Use this virtual sensor view!
Scott's Console clears a bit.
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