* ALIEN gassy PLANET. Several small MOONS. DAWN. 3 lonely MOUNTAINS rise from thick PERPETUAL MIST/clouds.
* PEBBLE BEACH between the mountains, caressed by white mist WAVES. Some scraggly VEGETATION. Makeshift STRUCTURES.
A lone ALIEN in monk-ish ROBE squats, carefully FLOATS a small mockup WOODEN RAFT (with sail) onto the mist's SURFACE. As it slowly SINKS, the mist CORRODES it.
A bigger alien, not unlike a MINOTAUR, in a tattered TUNIC, approaches.
CAPTION:
Feeling tempted today?
The other rises, TURNS, lowers his COWL. He's an URSINI, taller & greener-skinned than the known ones.
CAPTION:
To walk downslope, and become just another empty box
at the Under Way shrine? No more than any other day.
Both eye the spartan alien TEMPLE (1 DOOR, no windows) halfway up the smaller mountain.
Both walk upslope, towards a bigger alien TEMPLE (several DOORS + WINDOWS) up the middle mountain. Some modest/primitive DWELLINGS scattered around the path.
Both eye the slim alien TOWER (slit WINDOWS, no door) barely visible atop the taller mountain.
A lone ALIEN in monk-ish ROBE squats, carefully FLOATS a small mockup WOODEN RAFT (with sail) onto the mist's SURFACE. As it slowly SINKS, the mist CORRODES it.
A bigger alien, not unlike a MINOTAUR, in a tattered TUNIC, approaches.
CAPTION:
Feeling tempted today?
The other rises, TURNS, lowers his COWL. He's an URSINI, taller & greener-skinned than the known ones.
CAPTION:
To walk downslope, and become just another empty box
at the Under Way shrine? No more than any other day.
Both eye the spartan alien TEMPLE (1 DOOR, no windows) halfway up the smaller mountain.
Both walk upslope, towards a bigger alien TEMPLE (several DOORS + WINDOWS) up the middle mountain. Some modest/primitive DWELLINGS scattered around the path.
There was mutual respect. I saw his commitment to peace was sincere, but I couldn't forget he was responsible for razing down 6 inhabited planets, 1 of them Urs, before his change of heart.
Sorry. That's what I meant. Yet some hoped he might be the one to finally gain the High Way shrine.
Both eye the slim alien TOWER (slit WINDOWS, no door) barely visible atop the taller mountain.
Isn't that what everybody here hopes? Yet none has Ascended since the First Enlightened, and we can only guess how she did it.
Only here the chance exists, in this gasbag no one wants, for a bunch of useless fools to retreat into meditation and inner balance.
If that's the way to it. Sanctuary itself we have thanks to Zie. That closed tower, a few ghost tales, but very little else.
STARGATE (@) UNIVERSE .
ORIGINS
-+- QUEST -+-
* Middle Way shrine. MORNING. Several groups of discreetly-dressed ALIENS step out to the prairie before.
A small group MEETS the 2 stragglers.
Producing a small CILINDER:
A short ROTUND alien (not unlike a giant HEDGEHOG) reaches for the offered CILINDER. While he READS its contents:
Producing another CILINDER:
Gesturing:
As they STROLL downslope:
FLASHBACK:
FLASHBACK:
As he studies the report (incl. reconstructed/uncrumbling Drone SCHEMATICS):
They eye each other.
FADE TO:
A small group MEETS the 2 stragglers.
Producing a small CILINDER:
My friends! At last!
A short ROTUND alien (not unlike a giant HEDGEHOG) reaches for the offered CILINDER. While he READS its contents:
Most awesome results!
Producing another CILINDER:
Raptors destroyed another Pram colony. Bahr fleets advance on all fronts. The Coryn Alliance is about to split. Soon we might be getting more refugees.
It's a miracle the whole galaxy hasn't gone to hell, while your days are wasted looking for whatever extinct race built some abandoned monuments.
We've established beyond a doubt that they are machines. Very old, but can still be activated, if we only knew how.
Gesturing:
Some think the Rings are like combination locks, as some planets use instead of energy shields.
So, the lock turns, tumblers or whatever align, then the door opens? A door to where? Another Dimension?
As they STROLL downslope:
A door to Enlightenment, that would be grand.
Faith... is a luxury when so many races are threatened with extinction, embroiled in endless wars. Too many are gone already. Some day neither fear nor love of Zie will keep a warfleet from destroying Sanctuary itself.
The galaxy will surely miss us retirees, our peaceful ways, and our practically non-existent results.
The half-crater found years ago is now completely dug out.
FLASHBACK:
* WOODLANDS. NIGHT (MOONLIGHT). ACTIVE RING, facing a tree-covered hillside / sediments right NEXT to it.
VORTEX WOOSHES, gouging/vaporizing the terrain + trees.
END FLASHBACK
VORTEX WOOSHES, gouging/vaporizing the terrain + trees.
(OFF SCREEN)
Must have been created by the Ring. It's the best proof we have of any of them ever activating.
END FLASHBACK
Took quite a while to study the entire crater boundary without attracting any undue attention, but it was worth the effort!
FLASHBACK:
* WOODLANDS. NIGHT (MOONLIGHT). The Puddle's UNSTABLE & DISTORTED/FLICKERING. Out of it fly 2 DRONES (1 on fire / smoking, with Novan markings?), firing at each other, promptly CRASHING against the remaining hillside/trees.
END FLASHBACK
We've found a new class of machines. War machines. 1000s of years old.
END FLASHBACK
As he studies the report (incl. reconstructed/uncrumbling Drone SCHEMATICS):
If this is correct, their technology isn't that different from ours, but the way they're built... These pocket gunboats could change wars forever.
They eye each other.
FADE TO:
* SANCTUARY. PEBBLE BEACH. MORNING. U.E stands, somewhat AGED, gazing into the mist, arms crossed.
A smaller ALIEN, with colorful hair/FUR all over, + a BEAK, approaches.
CAPTION:
Another ship just departed, Wise Guide.
Everybody's leaving. Your followers await you.
Flexing fingers:
Far away in the mist, a small bright DOT blossoms into a big FIREBALL.
The MIST ripples a bit. Bigger RIPPLES can be guessed in the distance.
More bright DOTS. More FIREBALLS. CLOSING!
Dangerous mist WAVES lap against the smaller mountain's SHORE.
Both run upslope. A tall mist wave ENGULFS the beach. When it RETREATS, everything is CORRODED and DECAYING fast.
The smaller mountain is carpet-BOMBED. The spartan Temple EXPLODES!
Others join them.
Big alien WARSHIPS of varied makes FLY over, STRAFING. Explosions BLOOM among the abandoned dwellings around. The Temple ahead is BOMBED too. Smoke fills the air.
CLOSE SHOTS force the runners to stop and cower. A big warship LOOMS, artillery POINTING downwards.
Suddenly, 10s of fast DRONES (early-models) overtake the big warships, SHOOTING, evading, furiously PIERCING them from EVERY angle. Lethally effective.
The big warships TRY to shoot back, DOWN a few Drones, die a FIERY death.
Shrapnel RAINS around the cowering retirees, NOT on them. As they notice:
A modest-sized Drone Mothership HOVERS above.
A smaller ALIEN, with colorful hair/FUR all over, + a BEAK, approaches.
CAPTION:
Another ship just departed, Wise Guide.
Everybody's leaving. Your followers await you.
Flexing fingers:
Bo'lln, Swarm, or whoever's coming, don't matter. Enlightenment's within reach, at long last. I can feel it!
Far away in the mist, a small bright DOT blossoms into a big FIREBALL.
The MIST ripples a bit. Bigger RIPPLES can be guessed in the distance.
More bright DOTS. More FIREBALLS. CLOSING!
Dangerous mist WAVES lap against the smaller mountain's SHORE.
Both run upslope. A tall mist wave ENGULFS the beach. When it RETREATS, everything is CORRODED and DECAYING fast.
The smaller mountain is carpet-BOMBED. The spartan Temple EXPLODES!
Others join them.
Big alien WARSHIPS of varied makes FLY over, STRAFING. Explosions BLOOM among the abandoned dwellings around. The Temple ahead is BOMBED too. Smoke fills the air.
CLOSE SHOTS force the runners to stop and cower. A big warship LOOMS, artillery POINTING downwards.
Suddenly, 10s of fast DRONES (early-models) overtake the big warships, SHOOTING, evading, furiously PIERCING them from EVERY angle. Lethally effective.
The big warships TRY to shoot back, DOWN a few Drones, die a FIERY death.
Shrapnel RAINS around the cowering retirees, NOT on them. As they notice:
A modest-sized Drone Mothership HOVERS above.
* Middle Way shrine's SMOKING RUINS. DAY. The DEAD being carried away. Alien people gathered outside, SURROUNDED by a handful Motherships. Drones PATROL around.
At their center:
Nervous reactions at that. Murmurs.
More murmurs.
At their center:
Had to play it safe after he was one day found killed, his brains picked clean. Took longer than foreseen to get the Swarm going without help.
Nervous reactions at that. Murmurs.
The same Swarm pirates that grew big enough fast enough to beat the Bahr back, and recently overwhelmed the Raptor motherworld?
The Swarm that destroyed an Ursin colony before the Essl could rescue it?
Their "rescue" fleet was sacking the planet when we arrived and destroyed 'em. The Urs population is safe.
Everybody knows about the ever-growing "dead zone" the Swarm rules, 100s of worlds lost in it, nothing enters or exits, not trade, nor news.
More murmurs.
You're doing it, aren't you? The "War for Peace" we pondered right here, so long ago? A few idealists against entire races and empires?
# SWARM FTL TRANSPORT IN SPACE. ARTIFICIAL LIGHT. SPARTAN.
Around a table:
A HOLO STARMAP unfolds, zooms.
FAST TIME:
U.E sits lost in thought, frozen while around him the meeting FAST-FORWARDS. People come and go. A PITCHER with something to drink appears beside him, UNTOUCHED. Then, a tray with a BOWL + other edibles, also untouched.
Later:
Unfreezing:
Agreeing:
Taking a PAD from the table:
Manipulating the STARMAP:
LATER, reviewing his notes:
FADE TO:
Around a table:
Why not simply annex the planet? It would add to the Swarm's... prestige.
A HOLO STARMAP unfolds, zooms.
FAST TIME:
U.E sits lost in thought, frozen while around him the meeting FAST-FORWARDS. People come and go. A PITCHER with something to drink appears beside him, UNTOUCHED. Then, a tray with a BOWL + other edibles, also untouched.
Later:
He's often in meditation, lately. Gives him ...
Unfreezing:
You're pitted against dangerous neighbors but the races whose warfleets you destroyed aren't helping.
If we fall, they'll fall too. The FTL-less worlds we shelter will again become prey to everyone.
Yet the logic of war prevails over Diplomacy. As an independent group, you have no friends. Your economic and technological edges aren't enough.
Agreeing:
As the Swarm has grown, enemies have accrued faster. Races who killed each other for generations, now find common ground in rejecting the peace offered to them.
Taking a PAD from the table:
The factories you've taken can barely replace the ships you lose. The captured Capital ships you use cannot be replaced. Each battle is harder to win.
Manipulating the STARMAP:
The numbers are against you. Fleet size and mix, mobility, goals, resources, all need realigning.
He has the Clarity of mind now. You should just let him talk. Maybe... take notes.
LATER, reviewing his notes:
Right: Deep-space factories and mining drones, mostly automated, easily redeployed, would keep up with expansion and counterattacks.
Optimize the Motherships for deployment and decision-making, not firepower... makes sense. But, leave the planets and go for the fleets? There must be another way!
FADE TO:
* RICKETY TENTS around Zie's TOWER. AFTERNOON. A few ALIEN people (incl. an AGED F.B) about their business.
As some POINT upwards:
100+ Drones DESCEND from the sky, PATROL the area.
A large Drone Command Ship appears, PARKS short of LANDING. An AGED R.T debarks, hurries towards F.B.
As some POINT upwards:
100+ Drones DESCEND from the sky, PATROL the area.
A large Drone Command Ship appears, PARKS short of LANDING. An AGED R.T debarks, hurries towards F.B.
Hope it's not too late. Had to battle some pirates on the way!
# OLD TENT. Almost EMPTY. A visibly AGED U.E sits on the ground, a light BLANKET around his shoulders. To one side: a chair + COT.
As both ENTER:
Slowly, creakingly getting up:
Offering a small PAD:
As both ENTER:
Slowly, creakingly getting up:
Old friend! Aren't you busy conquering the galaxy?
We had a harder time traveling back here: Swarm patrols target anything bigger than scouts or courier ships.
Can't be helped: there's been too many incidents with weaponized cargo ships and other civilian craft. Even Swarm-controlled tradeships have been attacked or hijacked.
Peace needs time to set in, perhaps another generation or 2.
Why? You're stronger than anybody else out there, even in the half Galaxy still resisting. Everybody knows it!
Force is not the answer. Thought is required.
Offering a small PAD:
* OLD TENT. DUSK.
Around a CAMPFIRE (carefully enclosed in a transparent DOME/forcefield):
Producing a small BOX:
Manipulating the BOX:
Around a CAMPFIRE (carefully enclosed in a transparent DOME/forcefield):
If the trend of ever harsher repression continues, the Swarm will become as bad as the warring empires it's replaced.
Absent a good solution, the imposed peace can be deemed a failure. Perhaps there's no saving those who'd walk off a cliff of their own free will rather than have alien masters, even ones as well-intentioned as you.
What then? Quit, throw the off switch, watch the endless wars rekindle, take over and destroy the billions of lives the Swarm protects?
It would be great if there was an "off switch".
Producing a small BOX:
This is a subspace screamer, for sending coded orders and messages thru the same operations channels that network Swarm taskforces. That's how we keep things in check, avoiding the worst mistakes and excesses.
It isn't easy, to admit our limitations and let go, before irreparable damage is done. Others will need to find a better way.
It won't be a total waste. Word has spread about members of many races cooperating as equals for the greater good. That'll be a new start to build upon.
Manipulating the BOX:
* ASTEROID FIELD around a small star. ALIEN SHIPYARD / FACTORY. Sprawling. Alight. Active. Several battle-scarred COMMAND SHIPS + DRONES parked nearby. Support SHIPS zoom around.
LIGHTS GO OFF.
All ships STOP/park.
Everything's INACTIVE.
LIGHTS GO OFF.
All ships STOP/park.
Everything's INACTIVE.
* OLD TENT. TWILIGHT. Stars SPARKLE.
Rising to leave:
Rising to leave:
Too many other important things. If only we'd managed to find the Drones' creators! Who knows what we might have learnt...
* OLD TENT. NIGHT. F.B sleeps on a MAT near the entrance. CAMPFIRE's nearly out. R.T ruminates to himself.
Suddenly, the tent BURSTS with LIGHT, which VANISHES quickly.
Suddenly, the tent BURSTS with LIGHT, which VANISHES quickly.
# OLD TENT.
Rushing inside:
Nobody home. His blanket + other simple belongings still there. Other PEOPLE come look.
Amid the general murmurs:
A small BOOK falls from the cot:
Mist
Flows
by
Zie.
F.B picks it up, offers it to:
Offering the book back:
Gesturing:
Rushing inside:
Nobody home. His blanket + other simple belongings still there. Other PEOPLE come look.
Amid the general murmurs:
A small BOOK falls from the cot:
Mist
Flows
by
Zie.
F.B picks it up, offers it to:
Published after she vanished, then lost with everything else when her race was conquered and exterminated.
Offering the book back:
Gesturing:
# ALIEN SHIPYARD / FACTORY. Huge. Fully AUTOMATED, dark, quiet, except for the control OFFICES (overlooking the facilities) & quarters, where a few ALIEN people work and live.
Among several others:
1 half-destroyed COMMAND SHIP, in pretty bad shape, surrounded by SCAFFOLDING, cranes, robots, parts, debris. All still.
Among several others:
1 half-destroyed COMMAND SHIP, in pretty bad shape, surrounded by SCAFFOLDING, cranes, robots, parts, debris. All still.
* # Command Ship's labyrinthine machinery. Heavily DAMAGED. Smoke. Liquids. Erratic sparks / pilot lights. BROKEN.
A DATASCREEN with alien SCRIPTURE/SYMBOLS glows in the dark.
CAPTION:
Mission:
FAIL.
Damage: critical.
Cessation: imminent.
A RED LIGHT turns ON.
More alien SCRIPTURE flows.
CAPTION:
Battle orders:
PRIORITY.
Command received:
Conflict.
Invalid.
Override.
A DATASCREEN with alien SCRIPTURE/SYMBOLS glows in the dark.
CAPTION:
Mission:
FAIL.
Damage: critical.
Cessation: imminent.
A RED LIGHT turns ON.
More alien SCRIPTURE flows.
CAPTION:
Battle orders:
PRIORITY.
Command received:
Conflict.
Invalid.
Override.
# ALIEN OFFICE. Utilitarian. Panoramic windows show big inactive MACHINERY outside. 10+ alien JANITORS, GUARDS, TECHS & EXECS (of different RACES / SIZES) wrap up things, SHUTTING DOWN computers & everything.
Suddenly, 5-6 DRONES fly/float up to the windows, OPEN FIRE.
Shots PIERCE glass, FURNITURE, walls, BODIES.
Everybody's KILLED.
A half-size TECHNICAL/REPAIR drone enters/floats thru a broken window, then a BURST wall, turns, reaches a DAMAGED CONSOLE, deploys several delicate/surgical TOOLS/MANIPULATORS.
A blunt-screwdriver-shaped (telescopic) tool CLICKS a key. No effect. A 2nd KEY's clicked. Then a 3rd.
The tech drone deploys more TOOLS, its diagnostic LIGHTS ripple. It RIPS off the Console's FRONT, starts PROBING its innards.
Suddenly, 5-6 DRONES fly/float up to the windows, OPEN FIRE.
Shots PIERCE glass, FURNITURE, walls, BODIES.
Everybody's KILLED.
A half-size TECHNICAL/REPAIR drone enters/floats thru a broken window, then a BURST wall, turns, reaches a DAMAGED CONSOLE, deploys several delicate/surgical TOOLS/MANIPULATORS.
A blunt-screwdriver-shaped (telescopic) tool CLICKS a key. No effect. A 2nd KEY's clicked. Then a 3rd.
The tech drone deploys more TOOLS, its diagnostic LIGHTS ripple. It RIPS off the Console's FRONT, starts PROBING its innards.
# Command Ship's DATASCREEN. More alien SCRIPTURE/SYMBOLS.
CAPTION:
Broadcast,
all battle channels:
Peace
must be
achieved.
CAPTION:
Broadcast,
all battle channels:
Peace
must be
achieved.
* ASTEROID FIELD. ALIEN SHIPYARD / FACTORY. Lights turn ON, by groups. Aux SHIPS resume activities. 10+ DRONES exit the main building, RACE towards CAMERA.
# NOVAN HOSPITAL ROOM. GINN LURCHES AWAKE.
