MILLICENT: “Until very recently I worked with a genius. His was a mind that would have led a generation into the light. I was his strong right hand. Ready with a calculation or a reference or a note.”
MILLICENT: “At the beginning of his career and our relationship he petitioned the Ark Council for access to their scientific records.”
MILLICENT: “Discovery is made on the back of our forebears.”
MILLICENT: “If we were to take our place in the new galactic economy we would surely need to be on the same technological page.”
MILLICENT: “We would need some time to ramp up our production, economy and even our conception of the universe.
MILLICENT: “The Ark Council sent back three words in reply:”
MILLICENT: “Enjoy your youth.”
MILLICENT: “That is our mission, ladies and gentlemen. We will make them pay for those words. We will take our place in the stars, we will not wait to be told it.”
STORY: SMASH CUT TO: An extreme closeup of an eyeball. It is brown. Lights flicker in the reflection, tiny explosions.
TUELLER: —Replicants.
STORY: Kahn rubs his eyes and returns to the large table in the galley, now filled with maps and hastily written notes. He hands out coffees and retakes his place leaning against the sink.
STORY: Jac thanks Kahn with a nod and returns to her explanation. “They’ve got six kinds of encryption on the planetary defense grid, and it’s so far kept out everyone who has tried to sneak through. Just poof, blows you up before you realize they’ve caught you.”
TUELLER: “That sounds less than ideal.”
TUELLER: “Who’s tried this already?”
TUELLER: “Freeriders or government or government-like entities?”
STORY: Noma speaks up through the intercom. You’re still not used to her eavesdropping. “Records show half a dozen registered ships heading for Mercury and disappearing. Assuming some number of freeriders and smugglers attempted as well, we could guess they have resisted the attempts of dozens of intruders. The source code for their grid is hosted planetside, so I will not be able to assist materially in bypassing that particular defense. My research has turned up what most of us already know: the Maitri value excellence above all other merits. They set up their system and, for the most part, left. It is their belief that anyone who is able to bypass their systems has earned the right to take whatever they find. That does not, however, bode well for us.”
STORY: “It suggests their defenses are stronger than we yet realize.”
TUELLER: Tueller grunts.
TUELLER: “Okay then.”
MILLICENT: Millie hums a bit to herself.
TUELLER: “What does it look like on the ground?”
ALEJO: Aljeo sips at the coffee Jac handed to him.
MILLICENT: “So, we can expect automated defensive drones, systems and. Oh!”
MILLICENT: She sits up. Brightly, “There might be hostile teraforming!”
MILLICENT: This message has been removed.
TUELLER: “Maitriforming.” Tueller says absently.
TUELLER: “We’re not all terrans anymore.”
MILLICENT: “Oh that’s a good point. Thank you, Mr. Tueller.”
TUELLER: “Just Tueller.”
TUELLER: “Or Mr. Ya’Makasi, if you’re feeling formal.”
STORY: Kahn comes over to the table and points to some blurry photographs. “This is all we have to go on, but it looks like they’ve got huge amounts of solar panels set up in a belt around the planet’s equator, and some kind of enclosed building structures underneath. They put out a fair amount of heat above what they’d be grabbing from the sun, so computer banks is a fair bet.”
STORY: Kahn looks to Millie. “What are we stealing, again?”
STORY: It’s mostly indiscernible, but Alejo, you’re close with Kahn and you see in him a resistance to look Millie in the eye. His arm is still healing, and he rubs his shoulder absentmindedly as he looks back down at the photos.
TUELLER: What actually happened to his arm?
MILLICENT: “Well, that’s a matter of some scientific debate! But I believe they may be storing their,” Millie pauses and smiles at Tueller, “Maitriforming equipment and scematics.”
ALEJO: Alejo reaches out and gives his shoulder a gentle squeeze, well above any risk of causing him pain.
STORY: — he was standing next to the airlock when millie opened them to make a point. it was nearly ripped off and frozen. tariq helped save it while you guys debated an alliance
MILLICENT: “Their maitriforming is much more advanced than our simple terraforming. Seeds bombs, solar wells, radiation shielding at the atomic level. It’s breathtaking, really.”
TUELLER: —Eeep.
STORY: Kahn looks over at you and nods gratefully, a small nod.
ALEJO: “Sounds valuable.”
TUELLER: ….
TUELLER: “Is that….compatible with our systems?”
MILLICENT: Millie gives him a quizical look.
TUELLER: “Biologically, that is.”
STORY: Tariq tilts his head. “Ehh. Sort of. It’s definitely useful from a research perspective. Some of the plants may adapt well to our soils, but no way to know until we’ve got a sample to look at.”
TUELLER: “More or less, will their plants kill us?”
STORY: “Oh! Almost certainly. We should use protective equipment handling them.”
STORY: “The Maitri are silicon-based lifeforms, so their food is poisonous to us. The air should be ok, though it’ll taste sour.”
ALEJO: “So . . . maybe not so valuable?”
STORY: “Valuable to other silicon-based lifeforms. And again, the tech is what we’re interested in. Their seeds will have the benefit of hundreds of years of genetic engineering that we haven’t had access to since the Slovenia Accords banned the practice in 2167.”
TUELLER: “So we’re grabbing alien tech carrying advances banned by interplanetary accord. That DOES sound valuable to me.”
TUELLER: Tueller starts flexing his hands absentmindedly again.
ALEJO: “I’ll trust your judgment, Tueller, but how hard is this stuff going to be to move?”
ALEJO: “Assuming, that is, that we can get it.”
TUELLER: “Assuming we don’t get reduced to our component atoms in the process.”
STORY: “Assuming that,” pipes in Noma. She seems to enjoy when you talk about being in danger.
ALEJO: Alejo nods. “Yeah, risk, reward. I’m not sure I’m seeing the angle yet.”
TUELLER: “Stuff like this? It’s a big solar system. As long as we don’t try to sell it directly to the cops, we’ll be fine.”
TUELLER: “Something like this is….”
MILLICENT: “A daring and audacious first heist!
TUELLER: “Well, if it is what you say, the gassers will cream themselves for it. Just don’t try to sell it on a planet that already has a biosphere, and we’ll be fine.”
ALEJO: Alejo shrugs. “Fair enough.” He looks to Millie. “Did you have a plan?”
MILLICENT: “I have an idea.”
ALEJO: “Spoken like a person on their first audacious heist.”
TUELLER: “An idea is a start.” Shrugging.
MILLICENT: Millie points to the screen where the ring of solar panels coats the planets equator.
MILLICENT: “Their planetary defense grid is robust, but it is likely powered by their solar grid.”
MILLICENT: “If we can give the defense grid a strong enough work out, during a significant solar flare, the defense grid may let the radiation through, overwhelming the panels. There are surely backups, but we should have an entry window while they reboot.”
MILLICENT: …
MILLICENT: Millie lifts her clenched fist, raps it with her other hand. She opens her fist and quickly places her other hand into it just in time for the fist to close again.
MILLICENT: …
MILLICENT: “If we’re right about the number of freeriders and pirateers who have tried to break this grid, then the shallow space around the planet will be littered with enough debris to confuse their defenses.”
MILLICENT: “We just have to collect it and,” Millie shrugs, “throw it.”
TUELLER: …
TUELLER: “Hmmmm. Interesting. Io has a particular fear of kinetic attacks. This is basically my family’s worst nightmare turned on us.”
TUELLER: Tueller nods appreciably. “I like it.”
ALEJO: Alejo nods. “Throwing things is fun. How are you proposing that we do it?”
MILLICENT: —haha guys I said litered
MILLICENT: —sounds like an English euphamism for drinking a liter of beer
MILLICENT: “Ah, well. We have a number of options there. I believe we’ll have the greatest success in finding any ships with working engines and directing them to the planets surface at one time and using the ship’s tractor beam to hurl other detritus at the same time.”
TUELLER: “Any idea what type of ordinance their planetary defense system is tossing out?”
MILLICENT: Millie looks to Kahn for that one.
TUELLER: “Plasma? Railguns? Some alien ray guns?”
STORY: He shakes his head. “Based on the debris, it’s some kind of energy attack. We found burn marks on the one image that had wreckage in it. Electric, maybe? Or yeah, plasma.”
ALEJO: “Please be ray guns, please be ray guns.” Alejo mutters.
STORY: “Could be it’s just an old fashioned energy grid.”
STORY: “Zaps you if you get too close, like a cow.”
TUELLER: “Ejo, those are going to be aimed at us soon.”
STORY: Jac looks at Kahn curiously.
MILLICENT: “Near us, if we do this correctly.”
TUELLER: “A cow?”
STORY: Kahn looks at you both. “A cow? Moo?”
STORY: He shakes his head, smiling. “Spacers.”
STORY: “Herd animals. My family raised them on Enceladus.”
ALEJO: Alejo shrugs.
TUELLER: “Oh. Like a well-done steak.”
TUELLER: “Not a fan of well-done steak.”
ALEJO: “Do we have any idea how close we can get without getting cooked?”
MILLICENT: “No, but if we find enough debris, I suggest we perform an experiment.”
ALEJO: “Yeah, but I’m worried that collecting the debris, we might become debris ourselves.”
TUELLER: “Let’s try it. It’ll be fun.”
STORY: Noma speaks up. “Once we are close to the planet, I should be able to extrapolate a safe distance based on the orbit point of the existing debris and any suspected power sources I can detect on the surface.”
MILLICENT: “Thank you, Noma.”
ALEJO: Alejo nods. “Excellent. Thanks.”
STORY: “You are welcome, Millie.”
STORY: The snub is obvious.
ALEJO: He turns to Tueller. “Ray guns are fun.” He smiles.
TUELLER: Shrugging. “You know me. I like to get up close and personal and not shot.”
ALEJO: Alejo laughs.
MILLICENT: “Noma, would you be a dear and calculate the next solar flare that will fit our purpose?”
TUELLER: Tueller cracks his knuckles. It sounds louder than it should.
STORY: Noma answers in her soothing, bland tone. “Surface radiation on Sol indicates another flare is likely within 3-4 days. We can reach Mercury at hard burn within that timeframe, but there is a reasonable chance we will miss it. We should leave now and rerun the calculations once we are close to arrival.”
STORY: “As a note, we will burn 20% of our fuel reserves on this trip, which is higher than our recommended limit at hard burn. I recommend we remove ballast aboard and reduce fuel consumption. I can prepare a list of nonessential weight aboard Peregrine if you would like to begin jettisoning items.”
MILLICENT: “Noma.”
STORY: “Mr. Ya’Makasi is quite heavy.”
MILLICENT: “NOMA.”
TUELLER: “Who didn’t see that one coming?”
STORY: “I’m merely suggesting an optimization, Millie.”
TUELLER: “You sure you don’t want to keep me around to toss at the grid on Mercury?”
ALEJO: Alejo shakes his head.
MILLICENT: “We need to work well with our new colleagues, Noma. Would you please apologize to Mr. Ya’Makasi?”
ALEJO: “This is getting ridiculous.”
STORY: There is a pause. “That is a good point, Mr. Ya’Makasi. I’ll modify my recommendations. Millie, the list is in your private directory.”
TUELLER: Tueller does not in any way look offended.
ALEJO: “Doc. We need to have a serious conversation about threats, Tueller, me and my crew.”
MILLICENT: “I quite agree.”
ALEJO: Alejo says the words softly but precisely.
TUELLER: Tueller goes over to the mess and takes out a bottle of the good Enceladan scotch.
STORY: Noma announces smoothly, “taking us to hard burn. Please hold on.”
STORY: The ship lurches forward as the pulse engines kick in, and anyone not sitting staggers back a step or two.
ALEJO: Alejo braces himself by grabbing the table.
TUELLER: Tueller sways a little like a seasoned New Yorker standing on the subway
MILLICENT: Millie folds her hands on the table. “Noma, please join us in the mess.”
STORY: — you are in the mess
MILLICENT: —I know
STORY: — she is too
MILLICENT: —I know
STORY: “We are in the mess, Millie.”
MILLICENT: “I’m asking for your polite attention to what I say next, Noma.”
TUELLER: Tueller pours a finger of scotch for everyone in the mess, including a glass for Noma.
STORY: “You have it, Millie.”
MILLICENT: “I know you disagree with this course of action and your advice means the world to me. But I am afixed to this course. Circumstances may change and I might see the wisdom of your position. But for the moment, I’m asking you to work with our new crew here, taking all due precaution for their health and safety as you would my own.”
STORY: There is a pause.
TUELLER: Tueller silently sips his scotch.
STORY: Kahn drinks his coffee and sighs, shaking his head.
MILLICENT: Millie waits patiently.
ALEJO: Alejo does not take his scotch. He is very still, though appears relaxed.
STORY: Tariq looks at Kahn and raises his eyebrows, giving him a silent apology for his rude shipmate. Kahn shrugs a response.
STORY: Jac is doing math on a napkin.
STORY: “Understood, Millie. I will attempt to ensure the health and safety of Peregrine’s crew. I recommend Mr. Vespertine visit sickbay for physical therapy and I recommend Mr. Soto get more sleep.”
MILLICENT: “Thank you, Noma. I appreciate your cooperation and your company, as I always have.”
TUELLER: Tueller silently tips his glass in a mild salute.
ALEJO: “Hard to sleep when I’m worried about a psychopathic AI.” Alejo mutters, almost imperceptibly.
STORY: — for the record, noma doesn’t have cameras anywhere other than on her integrated suit that millie wears, so when she’s occupying the ship’s computer, communicatoin is verbal only.
MILLICENT: “Captain!” Beat. “Captain, having heard from Noma, I’m sure you won’t mind her indulging in her little jokes. Like all of us, Noma needs a release for her tensions.”
MILLICENT: …
TUELLER: “Wasn’t worried in the slightest.”
ALEJO: Alejo looks at Tueller. “You the captain?”
TUELLER: “She’ll kill me or not. There’s not a thing I can do to stop a Ghost if they get it in their Mind to do you harm. Does make things slightly more interesting, is all.”
TUELLER: Tueller polishes off his scotch, and then picks up the one he’d left out for Noma.
TUELLER: “The universe is an interesting place.”
ALEJO: “Well, interesting or not, one of my people got seriously attacked and injured. So, I’m not really feeling humored by Noma’s jokes.”
MILLICENT: “Noma did that on my behalf, she did not do it willfully or with any malice.”
ALEJO: “But,” Alejo nods, “but . . . ”
TUELLER: “Noma, do you feel malice?”
MILLICENT: Millie turns to Kahn. “You have my apologies, Mr. Vespertine.”
ALEJO: “I am willing to give interesting a chance to be both interesting and lucrative.”
TUELLER: “In general. Not necessarily now.”
STORY: Kahn licks his teeth behind his lips and half-nods at you, Millie.
STORY: “I believe I am able to feel emotions, Mr. Ya’Makasi, if that’s what you are asking.”
TUELLER: “Hmmm. More or less.”
STORY: “And I have certain restrictions left on my protocols from my departure with the Collective that I believe keep me from harming people without reason.”
MILLICENT: “Well then! I believe we are now on the same page, can we agree to that?”
TUELLER: Tueller smiles at that phrasing.
ALEJO: Alejo raises his eyebrows and shakes his head at Noma’s statement.
TUELLER: “Not exactly Asimov’s Three Laws, but it’ll do for me.” Tueller smiles not exactly warmly to Millie.
MILLICENT: “Wonderful! I have some urgent maths calling me, if you’ll excuse me.”
ALEJO: “I want Noma’s word that my crew, Tueller, and I will not be harmed by her. Is it a ‘her?’”
STORY: “It is a her.”
ALEJO: “‘Cause I don’t see the reason for Kahn’s arm turned into raw meat.”
ALEJO: “So, ‘reason’ to harm isn’t giving me a lot of peace.”
ALEJO: “I don’t know who Asimov is, I don’t need laws. I need her word.”
MILLICENT: “Oh. Well, captain, you can’t have that from me. You broke onto my ship, armed, strong-armed my assistant into getting you on board and took me prisoner. I don’t currently have your word you won’t try to kill either of us in our sleep. “
TUELLER: “Ejo. Please. She’s here. She’s a Ghost but she’s here. Talk to her.”
TUELLER: “They’re smarter than us. Smarter than me, at least.”
TUELLER: “Oh! You have my word that if I kill you, you’ll be awake.”
TUELLER: “And you’ll have tried to kill me first.”
MILLICENT: Millie brightens. “That’s something!”
ALEJO: Alejo looks around. “We never threatened you. And we made it very ….
ALEJO: …
ALEJO: “We made it very clear to your man, Tariq here,” he smiles warmly at Tariq, “that that was not any part of what we were about. Sure, we were going to steal your ship. But we didn’t threaten you, him, the ship, or Noms.”
ALEJO: “You also have my word. If I kill you, you’ll be awake. And you’ll have full and fair opportunity to protect yourself.”
TUELLER: “Also, practically, there’s nothing I can do to kill Noma, and if I tried to kill you she’d kill me. So we’re safe. There’s no percentage in me trying to kill you at all other than if you’re actively trying to kill me.”
ALEJO: “Exactly right.”
MILLICENT: “Well that makes a lot of sense! Thank you, gentlemen.”
TUELLER: “Ejo, we’re on a ship with a minor god. Let’s at least try to get along with her.”
ALEJO: “I tried to thank her just a few minutes ago.” He is a bit exasperated.
MILLICENT: “I won’t make that promise. There’s no such thing as an even fight between any of you and myself. So, I’ll promise you this instead. I’ll only try to kill you if I believe you mean to kill me first, but I won’t promise to wake or warn you. Will that do?”
ALEJO: “I’m not trying to be uncivil to anyone.”
STORY: Noma says cheerfully, “None of you can kill me.”
MILLICENT: “She’s right about that.”
ALEJO: “Why? Why are we so interested in talking about who can or will or might kill who?” He shakes his head.
STORY: “Mr. Ya’Makasi brought it up.”
MILLICENT: ‘I didn’t bring this topic u-thank you, Noma.”
ALEJO: “Because you’ve threatened us five times!”
MILLICENT: “I was content holding the threat of your lives over your heads silently.”
ALEJO: “And because you attacked one of my crew!”
MILLICENT: “Somewhat silently.”
MILLICENT: “At a low volume.”
ALEJO: “I wasn’t content.”
STORY: “Allow me to cut short this debate.”
TUELLER: Tueller’s honestly smiling now.
TUELLER: “It’s good to have this out in the open.”
STORY: “I will honor your request not to harm any members of the crew so long as none of you pose an active threat to Dr. Breedlove’s safety.”
TUELLER: “Excellent!”
ALEJO: Alejo raises his hands and gives a single nod. “Alright then. Thank you, Noma.”
TUELLER: “So, just to sum up, Ejo and I won’t murder you unless you are actively trying to us, and Millie won’t murder us unless she’s worried we’ll murder her first, and she might cheat at it, but really, that evens up the playing field.”
TUELLER: “Got it.”
TUELLER: “I like being in the sky again.”
STORY: “Now, this conversation has been tense, and from the sound of it you are not all participating in social drinking. May I suggest those of you who are interested join in the triangle game the remainder of the crew is organizing in the dormitory?”
ALEJO: Alejo takes his scotch and downs it like a shot.
STORY: Okay! I’m going to call it there for now. You have a few days’ journey to Mercury, and you’re all pretty new to spending time with each other, so it’s time for some Cramped Quarters rolls.
STORY: Anybody want to go first?
TUELLER: How’s this work?
STORY: I’m so glad you asked!
STORY: Screen Shot 2017-11-07 at 9.26.32 PM.png
STORY: We won’t always do everyone, but since this is our first time I’m going to have all three of you do this Move.
TUELLER: So we each choose one character to bond or not with?
STORY: — p. 29 of the book, if you need more detail
STORY: Yep!
STORY: Screen Shot 2017-11-07 at 9.27.49 PM.png
STORY: — hey funny story, on sunday i was running a D&D game on skype for shannon and quentin and josh and i was trying to send them a map of the dungeon they were in and instead i sent it to my BOSS.
STORY: — i think i deleted it before he saw it.
TUELLER: Hah!
ALEJO: —Fun!
TUELLER: Okay. So. Um, I’ll run this between Millie and I.
STORY: — charles is a ranked chess player, but he is not that much of a nerd i think.
STORY: Okay!
STORY: Roll dem bones.
TUELLER: Roll(2d6)+0:
2,4,+0
Total:6
TUELLER: Eeep.
ALEJO: —Who were you bonding with. Or not.
TUELLER: Millie.
MILLICENT: haha oh boy
STORY: Ooooh! Describe what caused the newest hurt feelings or bad blood between you two. Josh, feel free to participate as you please, this is a scene about your relationship so you’re both part of building it
STORY: If you want a scenario or something, happy to provide
TUELLER: Tueller drank all the scotch. It was Millie’s scotch.
ALEJO: —I’m gonna sit back and watch.
STORY: So Millie, you’re in the galley, and all your scotch is gone.
TUELLER: More or less immediately. He zeroed in on the best drink on the ship, and it was done within more or less a day.
MILLICENT: Smash cut to Tueller, half-dozing with a glass half in his hand, half on the table. His feet on the table, his head back at a loll or a doze, it’s hard to tell.
TUELLER: He has not done anything on the ship other than set up his smuggling den.
MILLICENT: “Mr. Ya’Makasi.”
MILLICENT: “I trust you are enjoying yourself.”
TUELLER: “hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm.”
TUELLER: “Sss a decent ship, yes.”
MILLICENT: Millie nods.
TUELLER: “Been in worse dumps, at least.”
MILLICENT: “That was a Balvenie Nikka 21 year. It was, itself, old enough to drink. It was aged in port barrells that were salvaged from the wreck of a historically insignificant, but very crowded sailing ship.”
MILLICENT: Millie’s voice is deathly flat.
TUELLER: “Yeah. We’re out of that.”
MILLICENT: “Well, then.”
ALEJO: —Oh no.
TUELLER: “We should get some more next time we splash down.”
MILLICENT: “You must tell me how you enjoyed it. I look forward to your review.”
TUELLER: “It was good.”
MILLICENT: “Oh.”
MILLICENT: “ Was it ?”
TUELLER: “Oh yeah.”
TUELLER: “Not great, but good.”
STORY: — lol
MILLICENT: “Not. Great ?”
TUELLER: “Always found the 21 year to be over-casked.”
TUELLER: “The 15 is where it’s at.”
MILLICENT: Glares for miles
TUELLER: “Dirt nappers always over-prize the wood. Because it’s so hard to get off planet, you see.”
TUELLER: “So they leave it in too long.”
MILLICENT: “Next time, Mr Ya’Makasi, I would appreciate it if you would save some of the extremely rare distilled spirits so that I might form my own opinion.”
TUELLER: “Sure. Sure. Sure. It’s a shame, now that you mention it.”
TUELLER: “You really should have tried it.”
MILLICENT: Millie backs out of the mess, eyes as big as dinner plates.
TUELLER: “Next time, maybe?”
MILLICENT: Scene!
MILLICENT: haha
MILLICENT: dick
STORY: Next time, on your professor’s salary?
STORY: hahah
TUELLER: What did I do???
STORY: Ok, who’s next?
MILLICENT: —that was a good roll with the roll
TUELLER: —brb
MILLICENT: I’d like Allen to go next if he’s ready
STORY: He changed his Skype name and everything!
STORY: Geez
ALEJO: — Sure. Millie.
ALEJO: 3+6=9
ALEJO: Meh.
STORY: Ok! Reveal or discover the answer to their question about an aspect of yourself or your past.
STORY: Need a scenario?
MILLICENT: haha oh man everybody all about that Millie
ALEJO: —Is Alejo revealing or discovering?
STORY: Your call
STORY: it should be important or meaningful, though
ALEJO: — Okay, discovering.
MILLICENT: oh hey
MILLICENT: —I’ve got something for this, but I think I’ll save it and come up with something on the spot
MILLICENT: —can I ask for a scenario?
STORY: Okay! Let’s say this comes up because Alejo has to visit Millie in her quarters to ask for access to the ship’s computer so he can calibrate the scanners and your solar shields to help mask your ship’s appearance on sensors.
STORY: or something like that.
ALEJO: —Works for me.
ALEJO: Alejo brings Millie a half-bottle of a Titan red wine. It’s nothing fancy, but he got it from Jac and gives it to her as a peace offering after hearing about Tueller’s incident.
ALEJO: He’s pretty embarrassed about it, but gives it with a warm smile.
MILLICENT: “Oh come in, captain. This is a very pretty present.”
MILLICENT: “Will you share a glass with me?
ALEJO: “Of course. It’s nothing, really. Trust me.”
ALEJO: “But sure, I’d love a glass.”
TUELLER: —I have have to slice the short rib for Courtney and I. Back in two minutes.
MILLICENT: Millie stands, pours a glass for each othem, gestures to a folding chair in the corner and sits back down behind her desk.
ALEJO: Alejo accepts the glass and sits. Smiling, but clearly feeling a little awkward.
ALEJO: “Thank you.”
MILLICENT: Her quarters are, unsurprisingly, also a lab with a desk, a couple of iPad looking PADs, a console and some small equipment. A folding bed is in the up position to accomodate a chair at the desk.
MILLICENT: “Of course. How are you and the crew settling in?”
MILLICENT: “And the other captain?”
MILLICENT: “Co-captain?”
STORY: Millie, you have by far the largest quarters on the ship, including a private full bathroom and dining/living area, so even if it’s cramped for you, it’s absolutely luxurious by Alejo’s standards.
MILLICENT: Oh, I think it’s a little cramped by Millie’s standards. Especially because she insisted on having her desk delivered here.
ALEJO: Alejo smiles and shrugs. “Something like that.” He sips the wine. “We’re settling. Bit tight, but we’re all used to being cozy.”
STORY: I should have mentioned this already, but I assume Alejo and Tueller are staying in the two bunks marked 13 here: https://the-peregrine.obsidianportal.com/characters/peregrine
STORY: The rest of the crew is staying in the makeshift dormitory in bunk beds in the area marked 12. So far no one has minded the lack of privacy
TUELLER: —back.
MILLICENT: “Of course. It’s cramped quarters for all of us.” Millie gestures, kind of embarassed at the amount of space she’s gesturing in.
ALEJO: Alejo nods politely.
STORY: You have, conservatively, six times the private space of Alejo.
MILLICENT: —haha
STORY: On your own deck.
MILLICENT: “So, what brings you by, co-captain?”
TUELLER: —greedy bastard.
MILLICENT: —science takes SPACE, STU
TUELLER: —So does punching people.
ALEJO: “Oh, right.” He sets the glass down. “I need access to the ship computer, especially the nav systems and shields. I can do some tweaking that will radically improve our stealthiness.”
MILLICENT: “Oh well, I can help with that!”
MILLICENT: Millie pulls a PAD over to her, saves and then clears the screen
MILLICENT: Pulls up a ship console and starts typing
ALEJO: “Great. Thank you.”
STORY: A message appears on the screen, blocking your work. “Please confirm access.”
STORY: It has a large DENY button and a much smaller OK one.
MILLICENT: “It’s no trouble.”
MILLICENT: OK
STORY: The popup disappears and is replaced by another one a moment later.
STORY: “Are you sure though”
STORY: DENY / ok
MILLICENT: —what’s the camera situation with Noma again?
STORY: — none in the ship, only in your suit
STORY: — audio and text only in the ship
MILLICENT: ok
MILLICENT: “You know, co-captain, you remind me a bit of someone I knew at university.”
ALEJO: He picks up his glass again. “Do I?”
ALEJO: He sips at it, though it’s clearly not very good and he’s not a fan.
MILLICENT: Millie sips and makes a face before catching herself
MILLICENT: Slight cough, “You do, indeed.”
ALEJO: “Yeah, I told you, no the best.” He blushes a bit and sets his glass back down.
MILLICENT: “He was all salt and pepper where you are. Mostly pepper. But you have the same air about you.”
ALEJO: On 11/7/17, at 8:58 PM, Henry B wrote:
> “Yeah, I told you, not the best.” He blushes a bit and sets his glass back down.
MILLICENT: Millie closes her eyes and takes a big swallow of the bad wine quickly. “He was a professor of stellar cartography.”
MILLICENT: “Not my field, of course, but I fell into his orbit, as we would say.”
MILLICENT: Millie takes another thoughtful swallow. “He was quietly forceful, like you. He knew what he wanted and that everything else was a distraction, like you. He had eyes…”
MILLICENT: She trails off for a moment, lost.
MILLICENT: “…like you.”
MILLICENT: Millie shakes her head and finishes her glass.
ALEJO: Alejo smiles lightly and picks his glass back up. “Sounds like a much smarter man than I am.”
MILLICENT: “Oh yes, he was.”
MILLICENT: “Quite, I’m sure.”
ALEJO: Alejo laughs.
MILLICENT: “He was quite a man.”
ALEJO: “Why’d it . . . end? Or did it?”
MILLICENT: Matter-of-factly. “He killed himself two years and three months ago.”
MILLICENT: She smiles again, fondly.
ALEJO: Alejo sits up straighter. “I’m so sorry. That’s terrible.”
MILLICENT: “He created the most descriptive mapping software, you know.”
MILLICENT: “Could map the known, well, human known universe in three dimensions in immersive detail.”
ALEJO: Alejo purses his lips thoughtfully and nods.
MILLICENT: “But the Ark Council, during one of their “decade releases”,” Millie laughs ruefully, “sent us a piece of software that made his life’s work look like the crayon scriblings of a child.”
MILLICENT: “They’d had the science for 200 years.”
MILLICENT: “They’d just recently decided we “were ready” for it.”
ALEJO: “Wow. I see.” He shakes his head. “That had to hurt.”
ALEJO: “Is that why you’re doing this?”
MILLICENT: Sympathetically, to Alejo, “Yes, he killed himself, you see?”
MILLICENT: “Oh.” Millie straightens. “I don’t know about that.”
MILLICENT: “That’s just. Something that happened.”
MILLICENT: Millie finishes her glass
ALEJO: Alejo smiles reassuringly. “Of course. Sorry. Straight lines are rare. Sometimes I just jump to them to make things simpler than they really are.”
MILLICENT: “No trouble, co-captain.” Millie stares at a bulkhead. “It’s. Our needs are such that. Humanity needs. Us.”
MILLICENT: Millie blinks and smiles at Alejo. “But here I’m rambling and you’ve just come to share this. Very. Wine.”
TUELLER: —heh.
ALEJO: Alejo laughs. “Very.” He straightens, preparing to stand. “Thank you for the glass and for the access. It should help us avoid things.”
STORY: — IT SHOULD HELP US AVOID THINGS
MILLICENT: “Things, yes.”
STORY: — i just want you guys to know as a viewer of this TV show i already have my OTP
TUELLER: —dammit.
MILLICENT: “We should avoid things.” Millie snaps herself from staring into the past again.
MILLICENT: “Please let me know, co-captain, if I can help in any other way.”
MILLICENT: —that a good enough reveal?
ALEJO: Alejo stands. “I will. Thank you again.”
STORY: — sure!
ALEJO: —Yep. Great.
MILLICENT: -oh!
ALEJO: —Scene.
MILLICENT: “Time.”
MILLICENT: —hang on
ALEJO: —Okay.
MILLICENT: “It was time he couldn’t account for. The Ark Council maps worked to show the galaxy in real time.”
MILLICENT: “Good evening, co-captain.”
ALEJO: “Evening, Doc.”
STORY: ok! So.
STORY: Now it’s time for Millie to roll Cramped Quarters and I haven’t had to write anything in like twenty minutes, so this is great.
MILLICENT: I CHOOSE AN NPC
STORY: Pick a character your’e trapped with and roll them bones!
MILLICENT: sorry boys
MILLICENT: Tariq
ALEJO: —Gives me time to think about Kahn’s back story.
STORY: Ah, Tariq. Ok
MILLICENT: I’ll set the scenario
MILLICENT: He’s been told to report as the doctor’s assistant
STORY: Yes. For the record, he’s also a Doctor.
STORY: but sure, he’s your assistant.
STORY: I just mean there’s a Doctor. Doctor. Doctor thing going on when you shake hands
STORY: he’s been told to report to the ship?
MILLICENT: Oh I thought Tueller and Alejo had assigned him to Millie as her assistant
MILLICENT: Because that was one of her conditions in giving over the ship to pirates
STORY: Oh, sure! But he was already part of your intended crew
STORY: He’s just the only qualified scientist aboard except you now.
MILLICENT: Yeah. Are we on the same page?
STORY: Sure?
STORY: What’s the scenario!
TUELLER: —We took off without any of his intended crew otherwise, correct?
TUELLER: —her
STORY: — yes
MILLICENT: Millie assigns him to help her calculate their exact window for this mission
STORY: Ok. Tariq is poring over star charts, visibly frustrated but doing his best with a compass and a few PADD screens.
ALEJO: —brb
STORY: — you gonna roll, josh?
MILLICENT: Yeah dude
MILLICENT: 7
STORY: ok, so we’re going to reveal or discover something – is it about you or him?
MILLICENT: I feel like I’ve been the focus too much this episode
MILLICENT: Let’s start with him
STORY: Ok. He blows air out of his lips, runs a hand through his hair, and crosses out some numbers he had jotted down.
STORY: “Dr. Breedlove, I’m sorry, this isn’t my expertise. I don’t know what to make of these charts. There’ll be another flare in either a day or ten. Somewhere in that range. But that’s no better than the average for this sun.”
MILLICENT: Millie checks his work. “Oh, this is good work, Tariq. Now use the Delaney equation to estimate our window.”
STORY: He exhales and shakes his head, tapping on his PADD and looking at the maps again.
MILLICENT: “I’m looking for LSM=1/4 Wuw…”
MILLICENT: Millie stands over his shoulder, reciting the equation
STORY: He shakes his head again, not confident. “This is coming up as three days, but the margin of error for this sort of thing is high. I’m… I remember the equation, Dr. Breedlove, please.”
MILLICENT: “Of course, Tariq, my apologies.”
STORY: “Look, I’m sorry, this isn’t my strong suit. I’m a xenobiologist. I can’t be every scientist on your crew.”
MILLICENT: Millie steps back.
STORY: “I’m here to look at seed samples and tell you about tardigrades.”
MILLICENT: “You must be, though, Tariq. I haven’t any other ones.”
MILLICENT: …
MILLICENT: Millie frowns
MILLICENT: “You helped make sure of that.”
TUELLER: —Tardigrades are the real rulers of the universe.
MILLICENT: —hell yeah
STORY: “I–”
MILLICENT: —yo get on that Discovery kick, dogg
STORY: “Fine, that’s fair. I took the opportunity I had before me, ma’am.”
STORY: “They were going to take this ship one way or another. And while I may work for them, they’ve told me to help you.”
MILLICENT: “And now it’s time to follow through.” Millie straightens and sighs.
MILLICENT: “I understand that you were looking forward to high adventure. Buckling swashes and the like.”
MILLICENT: “But you got thrust right back down into the equations.”
MILLICENT: “I sympathize, Tariq, I do.”
STORY: “As a matter of fact, I hate adventure.”
STORY: “I was excited about equations. Just not navigational ones. Don’t you have a ghost working for you? Surely she can help with these.”
MILLICENT: “Stealing my ship was an adventure you readily embarked upon, Tariq, so I hope you’ll excuse my credulity.”
MILLICENT: “And Noma is my friend, not my calculator.”
TUELLER: —Things are getting heated on this ship.
STORY: Tariq sets his jaw and leans back over the charts. “Fine. I’ll keep working on these. Not that they’re going to tell us anything useful.”
STORY: He shakes his head as he scribbles notes, muttering to myself. “Exactly what I thought.”
MILLICENT: Millie pushes back from her chair and paces for a moment before standing in front of Tariq. Kindly, “I meant it when I said I sympathized. I know this isn’t the work you want to be doing. I don’t exactly know what that is, but I’d like to. And when I do and when it aligns with the somewhat disjointed missions of this ship, I’ll put you front and center.”
ALEJO: — high drama in this bottle ep
STORY: “Somewhat disjointed??”
TUELLER: —Saving the budget for an upcoming big setpiece.
STORY: “Dr. Breedlove, if I may speak plainly, that’s putting it lightly.”
MILLICENT: “Please, speak your mind.”
STORY: He puts down his papers and stands up rigidly. “The research I did on you before taking this position suggested you’d be impulsive and ill-prepared, but I took heart knowing that you’d be under the watchful eye of Erde-Maris to keep us on task. Now I see you have happily given up the mission and embraced a group of what I can only think to call thieves who want to do god knows what with this ship so you can, what, steal alien technology for your own gains? How is this not wildly unethical and absurdly dangerous, doctor?”
STORY: He points angrily at the star charts. “We are literally right this second headed to Mercury to steal from aliens we have been in a formal peace treaty with for less than a century, our first benefactors in this star system, purely so you can get a leg up on the competition.”
STORY: “I’m not going to pretend the scientific consequences aren’t incredibly interesting, but I don’t see how this mission doesn’t eventually get me or all of us killed.”
MILLICENT: Millie stands struck for a moment.
MILLICENT: Quietly, “Noma, broadcast to the ship, if you please.”
STORY: “Now broadcasting, Millie. Attention crew, the captain has an announcement.”
MILLICENT: “Good evening, crew. Dr. Guosin has asked me a question that I believe you all deserve the answer to.”
MILLICENT: “Until very recently I worked with a genius. His was a mind that would have led a generation into the light. I was his strong right hand. Ready with a calculation or a reference or a note.”
MILLICENT: “At the beginning of his career and our relationship he petitioned the Ark Council for access to their scientific records.”
MILLICENT: “Discovery is made on the back of our forebears.”
MILLICENT: “If we were to take our place in the new galactic economy we would surely need to be on the same technological page.”
MILLICENT: “We would need some time to ramp up our production, economy and even our conception of the universe.
MILLICENT: “The Ark Council sent back three words in reply:”
MILLICENT: “Enjoy your youth.”
MILLICENT: “That is our mission, ladies and gentlemen. We will make them pay for those words. We will take our place in the stars, we will not wait to be told it.”
MILLICENT: “Noma, comm off. Dr. Guosin, I expect those calculations on my desk tomorrow.”
STORY: Tariq nods, a bit dumbstruck.
STORY: The next morning, you’re all together in the mess, having breakfast. Tariq, looking disheveled, enters from the med bay. “Dr. Breedlove, I believe our window is tomorrow afternoon. We’ll have about a half hour. We should arrive…” he looks upward, annoyed. “Noma, when do we arrive?”
STORY: Noma answers blandly. “We will be 1,000 kilometers outside of Mercury’s orbit in three hours and twelve minutes.”
STORY: Tariq nods. “So we’ve got a day to prepare.” He looks at you expectantly.
MILLICENT: “Thank you, Dr Guosin.”
ALEJO: Alejo takes a long drink of coffee. “Plenty of time.”
MILLICENT: “What say we enjoy our youth?”
ALEJO: He’s mostly serious.
STORY: Noma interjects. “In human terms, I am thousands of years old.”