Book 1, Chapter 1 - The Frontier
EXT. BISSON OUTSKIRTS - EDARI
Clouds of sand billow across a vast red desert. An alien city sprawls over the dunes, bleached by an acidic sun. Bisson, the capital city of Edari.
A colonial military shuttle descends into the city’s depths.
Undetected, a reptilian alien drops to a rooftop and produces a small detonator from his dusty coat. His scaly lips curl back in a wicked grin.
He hits the button. A series of violent explosions rock the city. Smoke blooms from the devastation.
INT. RUINED TEMPLE
Rubble falls in an ancient holkari temple.
COMMANDER TYGG: Negative, station command: we’ll have to find another way out. (to soldier) Help me get him up.
COLONIAL SOLDIER: Let’s go, senator.
Commander Strakker Tygg and a young colonial soldier help an elder holkari statesman to his feet in a dim temple chamber.
SENATOR OO’THAN: The Colony has brought a storm to Bisson.
COLONIAL SOLDIER: Still no response from Captain Landris, sir.
COMMANDER TYGG: We’ll try to link up with Tikari Squad. Take back the shipyard if we have to--
SENATOR OO’THAN: Commander Tygg, we should return for the others!
COMMANDER TYGG: I’m sorry senator, it’s imperative that we get you out of the city alive. We’re taking you back to our station.
SENATOR OO’THAN: The others could be in danger! Please, the council--
COMMANDER TYGG: (interrupting) Senator, without you there is no council. Without you, there will be no peace in the frontier. The Holkari Empire will never be reunified.
The elder holkari studies the officer, tusked face tight with worry.
SENATOR OO’THAN: Then... let us go.
COLONIAL SOLDIER: Commander!
A clatter behind them. The two soldiers whip around, pulse rifles at the ready.
COMMANDER TYGG: (to soldier) What was it?
COLONIAL SOLDIER: Off-worlder, sir. Maybe a zaridian.
Tygg glares down the barrel of his rifle into the murky shadows.
SENATOR OO’THAN: A demon... from the beyond-all…
Tygg grabs the senator and starts walking.
COMMANDER TYGG: We need to move--
Two ornate knives fly past, striking both colonial soldiers.
COMMANDER TYGG (CONT’D): Argh!
COLONIAL SOLDIER: Hh-ack!!
Tygg spins on his heel, shoving the holkari senator to the ground. The young soldier collapses, clutching the knife in his throat. A four armed reptilian alien stands over the young soldier’s body, tail whipping through the air behind him.
The zaridian, Dorgo Konidarian.
COMMANDER TYGG: You’re making a mistake, bounty hunter.
The zaridian grins.
Tygg fires his rifle but Dorgo spits a glob of acid at him, melting the rifle in his hands.
COMMANDER TYGG (CONT’D): Agh! (then) Run, senator!
Tygg swings his fists at Dorgo, but the assassin is too fast to hit. Tygg punches a stone wall, cracking it with his strength. Dorgo swings his tail, knocking Tygg into the wall.
COMMANDER TYGG (CONT’D): Ungh!!
The colonial’s helmet clatters away, revealing an insectoid head. With an alien fluidity, Dorgo draws his knife from the dead soldier and climbs up the wall.
SENATOR OO’THAN: Ahh!! Help me, commander!!
Dorgo drops onto the elder holkari, pinning him down. He bares a mouthful of razor sharp teeth. Tygg shakes it off and jumps to his feet, drawing his pulse pistol. He fires -- shooting the knife out of Dorgo’s hand.
DORGO KONIDARIAN: Agh!
The zaridian looks back over his shoulder at Tygg, snarling.
DORGO KONIDARIAN (CONT’D): We have a deal, Tygg!
COMMANDER TYGG: Get away from him, Dorgo.
Dorgo raises his hands reluctantly and steps back. Tygg stands.
SENATOR OO’THAN: Kill him, commander!\
COMMANDER TYGG: (vicious) Shut up.
DORGO KONIDARIAN: This delay grows tedious.
The senator looks up at Tygg, his face searching.
SENATOR OO’THAN: Commander, please I-- I do not… I do not understand…
Tygg turns his gun on the senator and fires. The holkari slumps to the ground, tusks scraping against the stone floor.
Dorgo stares blankly down at the senator’s body. For Tygg, the switch has flipped.
COMMANDER TYGG: Let’s dispense with the pretense, bounty hunter.
DORGO KONIDARIAN:Tygg. Tygg... we had a deal. You need me alive. Vedrahn just needed
to know if you could be trusted--
The colonial rests the barrel of his pulse pistol against the back of Dorgo’s head.
COMMANDER TYGG: I don’t work for Vedrahn.
DORGO KONIDARIAN: Doesn’t matter. Vedrahn owns the frontier.
COMMANDER TYGG: Tt. “The frontier.” Vedrahn’s operations in the uncivilized territories are coming to an end. You know who I answer to.
Dorgo swallows hard.
DORGO KONIDARIAN: Yes.
COMMANDER TYGG: And you are loyal to the Queen and the Colony, aren’t you?
He looks down at the holkari senator. Blood trickles from the pulse blast through its forehead.
DORGO KONIDARIAN: ...Yes.
Behind him, Tygg smiles.
COMMANDER TYGG: Good. A new order is coming, Dorgo. Do your job, do it well, and you’ll be
Rewarded.
STARCALLED BOOK ONE, CHAPTER ONE: THE FRONTIER
EXT. IN ORBIT AROUND EDARI
Against a dark canvas of twinkling stars, a swirling red planet turns, surrounded by a dense ring of asteroids. Edari, the second planet of the Gerlian System: former capital world of the Holkari Empire. Violent red storms tear across the planet’s surface.
A large metal structure drifts into view, nested within the asteroids. From high orbit, a colonial space station looms over the planet. The rings of the jump relay drift in close proximity, half eclipsed in the shadow of the station.
INT. COLONIAL SPACE STATION - CORRIDOR
Aboard the station, a circular doorway slides away and two colonial officers march through the portal: Lieutenant Saranus Kron and Deputy Chief Science Officer Elona Zoren. Kron carries his helmet in a tarsal claw, his mandibles are tight.
ELONA ZOREN: (reading from tablet) Seismic analysis shows 17 high explosive events. We’ve received disavowals from the perillians, the addaclon, gothrendi, the travorians, the elmeroans, the iraleth, and the vethril.
SARANUS KRON: Good, that only narrows it down to the rest of the charted universe.
ELONA ZOREN: And the uncharted... Still no contact from any of the shuttle crews planetside. (then) We have to request reinforcements from Rotonken Base. We barely have enough personnel left to manage station operations. In the meantime we can retrofit the shuttle squadron with the Rider module and plan a recovery operation for Captain Landris. (she pauses) And Commander Tygg.
Elona turns to the lieutenant.
ELONA ZOREN (CONT’D): I think it’s a pretty good plan.
SARANUS KRON: No.
ELONA ZOREN: N-- what? Kron.
SARANUS KRON: We don’t have time. We’ve got a lock on the captain’s distress signal, going planetside right now is our best bet of getting him back offworld alive.
ELONA ZOREN: We really can’t spare the personnel for a mission like that. The smart move is to let Rider run the operation, this is the exact kind of scenario we’ve been developing her for.
SARANUS KRON: We used to run training ops like this all the time back in academy.
She grabs him and they face each other. Her voice is low.
ELONA ZOREN: This is not a grekking training exercise. (then) What if it’s the holkari? We don’t even know everything they’re capable of.
SARANUS KRON: Then we need to get planetside before we lose Captain Landris. Without him, we’ll be losing all the progress we’ve made on Edari. With the holkari. With the rest of the grekking frontier.
ELONA ZOREN: Come on, Kron, will you just think about this for a micrek? I know you command officers are supposed to be... you know, how you are, but you could start a war with the Holkari Empire. The new and old systems could reunify against us. That doesn’t concern you?
He levels at her.
SARANUS KRON: Can you even guarantee the module will work?
They stare at each other.
ELONA ZOREN: This would be the first test conducted outside the station. A demonstrably successful test would be good for the Colony’s mission here and… (quieter) ...and for our careers.
FLIGHT OFFICER DREJEN (COMM): Shuttle bay to Lieutenant Kron.
SARANUS KRON: Go ahead, Drejen.
FLIGHT OFFICER DREJEN (COMM): Shuttle squadron is prepped for deployment, sir.
SARANUS KRON: I’m on my way, Kron out.
He narrows his eyes.
SARANUS KRON (CONT’D): You’re only in command of the station until I get back.
She studies him then relents.
ELONA ZOREN: Anything else, Lieutenant Kron?
He turns and leaves. She watches him, then exhales heavily.
ELONA ZOREN (CONT’D): Damn it…
She looks out the window into the asteroid field.
EXT. ASTEROID FIELD
Asteroids drift past with dull sweeps. A sleekly modified transport ship passes undetected through the field of asteroids.
It’s the Berenian.
INT. THE BERENIAN - COCKPIT
Seen from the ship’s dark cockpit, a massive asteroid passes in front of the Berenian with a bassy sweep, revealing Edari below. The red planet looms outside the frosty main window, its surface crawling with violent storms. An alarm sounds overhead.
From behind a distant cluster of asteroids emerges a small squadron of colonial military ships on a course for atmospheric entry. The computer targets each ship and tracks them.
A human hand reaches up from the pilot’s seat and disables the overhead alarm switch. The pilot leans forward and exhales a chilly breath. The nametag on his flight suit reads: Osborn. He sets a cup of steaming liquid on the console. He flips a switch and the comms squelch on.
BEN OSBORN: Berenian to Oddie. Tracking five colonial gunships heading planetside bearing 224 mark 6. Is the job done?
Osborn stares out the window. His cybernetic right eye lights up then zooms in on the ships. The comms squelch garbled static for a moment, then click off.
BEN OSBORN (CONT’D): Berenian to Oddie. Berenian to Dorgo. Come in, anyone.
No answer. Outside, the squadron of ships hits the atmosphere, flaring ribbons of red and orange. He glances at the atmospheric fuel gauge: 19%. A beat.
With a heavy sigh, Osborn straps into the seat and flips the power switches.
BEN OSBORN (CONT’D): Damn it…
Systems power on and the engines spool up, reverberating dully across the cockpit. He pushes forward on the throttle.
EXT. IN ORBIT AROUND EDARI
The Berenian’s engines light up as the ship emerges from the field of asteroids on a course for the planet.
EXT. HIGH PLATEAU OF EDARI
Clouds of red dust bloom over the High Plateau of Edari, an endless stretch of brown and crimson stone. The asteroid ring arcs overhead and across the horizon.
In the near distance, the rumble and pierce of Lieutenant Kron’s squadron of colonial military gunships. They shoot past, and particles of sand ping and ricochet off their hulls.
INT. COLONIAL MILITARY SHUTTLE
A sextet of dark oculi cover the upper half of an insectoid face. Inside the lead ship, Lieutenant Saranus Kron, second officer of the 443rd Colonial Fleet Infantry, configures and loads his pulse rifle. His mandibles are tense with focus. His carapace armor bears an officer’s markings.
Before him, a squad of soldiers is strapped into their seats, each fully armored and armed with a pulse rifle. A soldier touches a tarsal claw to his helmet comm relay.
COMM OFFICER DELEREV (O.S.): Delerev here: receiving you, station command. (then) Affirmative. Yes, ma’am.
The soldier approaches Kron across the buckling cabin.
COMM OFFICER DELEREV (CONT’D): Lieutenant Kron, station command made contact with Commander Tygg. Senator Oo’than is dead.
Kron nods grimly.
SARANUS KRON: Any word from Captain Landris?
COMM OFFICER DELEREV: Negative, sir. But we have tracking on the travorian’s distress signal.
SARANUS KRON: Transmit the navpoint to Commander Tygg, direct him to rendezvous with us there.
COMM OFFICER DELEREV: Yes sir.
He reaches for his helmet and puts it on. Kron pulls back the action on his pulse rifle.
EXT. HIGH PLATEAU OF EDARI
The shuttles fly across the desert, blowing up clouds of sand from the surface as they speed toward their destination: several columns of black smoke rising from a massive city of Bisson.
INT. BISSON - THE PRIME COURTYARD
Shouting echoes in the distance. Pulse rifle fire. In the heart of Bisson, the Prime Courtyard is in ruin. Flaming debris and tortured scraps of metal litter the once holy gathering place. The charred bodies of holkari civilians and colonial soldiers desecrate the plaza. A stone archway collapses to the ground, sending dust into the air. The courtyard goes still.
Under a shifting pile of twisted metal debris, the pierce of an air valve venting pressure. Small pieces of rubble roll off, then the whine of servos and shifting metal as a large metal sheet is lifted up and laboriously flipped over.
A hulking suit of mechanized armor stands, then vents pressure from a set of environmental cannisters mounted on its back. Fine particulate debris sloughs off its frame.
The travorian soldier, Corvan.
He scans the rooftops. All clear.
Corvan reaches down and delicately pulls the limp body of a colonial captain from the rubble. The faceplate of his helmet is cracked. Captain Mor Landris, commanding officer of the 443rd Colonial Fleet Infantry and chief officer of Edari Station.
The travorian sets the unconscious colonial down. He raises an arm, and a rotating barrel of attachments spins then locks into place, producing an injection mechanism filled with white fluid. He administers the syringe. The captain gasps and comes awake, reeling in pain and gagging.
CAPTAIN LANDRIS: Argh! Fetzing dralk!
He clutches his fractured left arm to his carapace, grimacing in pain.
CORVAN: Restrain yourself, captain. The damages your body has sustained are numerous and severe. Thick green blood oozes from micro-fractures in Captain Landris’s chitinous exoskeleton. He stays prone.
CAPTAIN LANDRIS: (in pain) I’ll survive.
Corvan vents.
CORVAN: Possibly. Only if you return to the station.
Landris looks around.
CAPTAIN LANDRIS: The shuttle-- argh! What happened?
Corvan vents and points to the burning wreckage of a colonial transport shuttle.
CORVAN: We were attacked. An explosive device attached to the fuel cylinder. The ship is destroyed. You were damaged when we… evacuated.
Landris relents. He composes himself, grimacing, and looks over Corvan’s newly dented metal frame.
CAPTAIN LANDRIS: Thank you, travorian.
Corvan vents, then steps away.
CORVAN: It was trivial.
Landris taps the comms on his helmet.
CAPTAIN LANDRIS: (out of breath) Station command this is Captain Landris, I need a medical shuttle and support detachment at my position, priority zero-tallot nine.
Corvan surveys their position. Up the block, acrid smoke blows across a smoldering crater, the epicenter of a massive explosion. The visual sensors of Corvan’s biomech suit glow in the haze. He checks the rooftops again.
Holkari civilians, wrapped in dusty desert garments, begin to gather, keeping a wide circle around the two soldiers.
CAPTAIN LANDRIS (CONT’D): Captain Landris to station command. Come in, Kron. Lieutenant Kron. Landris to Commander Tygg.
He removes his helmet and looks up at Corvan.
CAPTAIN LANDRIS (CONT’D): We could be getting jammed. Or it’s... atmospheric interference. Particulate dust. (then) Or it’s grekking broken.
CORVAN: I have already transmitted a distress signal to the station.
The crowd of holkari civilians begins to gather around them, watching from a distance and murmuring ominously.
HOLKARI 1: Ack habb maku ru?
HOLKARI 2: Do ka maku smo-ack ta.
CAPTAIN LANDRIS: Can you understand them?
Corvan vents. His arm rotates into a massive pulse cannon configuration.
CORVAN: No. Perhaps they plan to attack again.
With effort, Landris stands.
CAPTAIN LANDRIS: (struggling to stand) Again? No. It couldn’t have been the holkari. At this scale? We’re looking for off-worlders. With experience... and equipment. The holkari don’t have tech advanced enough for--
His eyes fall on the mangled corpses of a holkari family, red dust settling on their carbonized bodies.
CAPTAIN LANDRIS (CONT’D): ...for something like this. Too much collateral damage.
He looks away, then to Corvan.
CAPTAIN LANDRIS (CONT’D): Any word from Tygg?
CORVAN: No.
CAPTAIN LANDRIS: With any luck he got the senator off the planet. There’s a comm relay back at the temple-- argh!
He stumbles but Corvan catches him, steadying the wounded colonial with a single arm. Landris gasps for breath.
Corvan vents.
CORVAN: You are unfit for locomotion.
CAPTAIN LANDRIS: You might be right.
The airspace above them is filled with the banshee screams of the squadron of gunships on approach. The captain and the travorian look upward to the sickly sky. The crowd of holkari begin to cower in fear, many pointing up.
CAPTAIN LANDRIS (CONT’D): There’s a comforting sound.
Corvan vents.
EXT. BISSON UPPER STRATA
The colonial ships fly in formation over the sun-bleached rooftops of the city, a complex matrix of stone. As two ships descend into the city depths, the other three assume a patrol pattern through the city’s upper strata.
EXT. BURIAL TOWER ROOFTOP
Masked in the shadow of a stone pillar, a zaridian watches the ships pass from the rooftop of a holkari burial tower -- Oddie Konidarian. His yellow eyes narrow.
ODDIE KONIDARIAN: (snarling) Colonials...
He drops to the edge of the rooftop, unslinging a scoped particle rifle from his shoulder.
ODDIE KONIDARIAN (CONT’D): What a grekking catastrophe…
Another figure emerges behind him -- it’s Dorgo.
DORGO KONIDARIAN: Have patience, Oddie. Everything is still according to plan.
ODDIE KONIDARIAN: Barely.
DORGO KONIDARIAN: The senator is dead. Delivered to the great beyond-all.
Oddie gestures rudely to his brother.
ODDIE KONIDARIAN: Yes, good, the most impressively feeble target of the day has been eliminated.
DORGO KONIDARIAN: The colonials don’t have a clue. They’re chasing ghosts. Five gunships? Laughable. Our contract is nearly complete.
Oddie raises the rifle, crosshairs trained on Corvan then on Captain Landris below.
ODDIE KONIDARIAN: We’ll see.
Oddie dials in his scope.
DORGO KONIDARIAN: If the pilot is as competent as you and Vedrahn seem to think then it won’t be a problem…
Oddie shoots his brother a sidelong glance.
DORGO KONIDARIAN (CONT’D): Just focus on killing that captain and I’ll worry about the rest.
Oddie racks the rifle. Dorgo watches his brother, his eyes narrow.
EXT. BISSON - THE PRIME COURTYARD
The two shuttles descend before Landris and Corvan, their engines blowing clouds of dust and sand into the air. Landris raises his hand to shield his face from the onslaught of sand while Corvan stands stoic behind him.
The hatch decompresses then slides back, and Lieutenant Saranus Kron leaps to the planet’s surface with pulse rifle in hand. A half dozen colonial soldiers jump from the shuttle behind him and a half dozen more from the shuttle beyond that, taking up tight defensive formations.
SARANUS KRON: Secure a perimeter! Maintain those signal inhibitors!
COLONIAL SOLDIER: Yes sir! Clear!
The shuttles shift into idle and gradually cycle down.
The sun reflects a sick light off the black visor of his helmet as he surveys the plaza. He approaches the wounded captain.
SARANUS KRON: Captain Landris, sir: we’re here to extract you.
The captain’s face falls.
CAPTAIN LANDRIS: Lieutenant Kron.
Kron shoulders his rifle and braces Landris up.
SARANUS KRON: The medical team is waiting for you back on the station.
They struggle back to the shuttle.
SARANUS KRON (CONT’D): We deployed for a search and rescue operation when station command lost contact with you and the others.
CAPTAIN LANDRIS: On whose authority?
Kron glances at Corvan.
SARANUS KRON: On mine, sir. As the acting station commander--
CAPTAIN LANDRIS: As the acting station commander, your post was on the station,
lieutenant.
SARANUS KRON: I-- Yes, sir.
CAPTAIN LANDRIS: The peace treaty is in enough jeopardy as it is--
A distant shot echoes, then a particle bolt slings past and blasts through Landris. Kron’s helmet is splattered with green blood.
SARANUS KRON: Oh dralk.
CAPTAIN LANDRIS: Hurrkk!! Ahhh!
SARANUS KRON: C-Captain Landris... Drejen!
From within the shuttle cabin, Officer Drejen emerges to help pull the critically wounded captain aboard.
SARANUS KRON (CONT’D): Oh grek. I need wound sealant! Call it in, Delerev!
COMMS OFFICER DELEREV: Yes sir! CO Delerev to station command, the captain is secured but--
EXT. BISSON ROOFTOPS
On the rooftop, Oddie grins and racks the rifle.
EXT. BISSON COURTYARD
SARANUS KRON: Drejen, get Captain Landris back to the station!
FLIGHT OFFICER DREJEN: Yes, sir! Get him strapped in!
Kron grabs his rifle and jumps down from the ship. Another particle blast pierces Corvan’s leg. The shuttle hatch slides shut and the engines shift back into drive. The shuttle rises back up into the air and disappears through the city.
Kron’s helmet betrays nothing as he and Corvan take up defensive positions behind rubble. He wipes the blood from his visor, leaving a green smear.
SARANUS KRON: Lieutenant Kron to all points, Captain Landris is secured. We’re taking fire in the central plaza; I need aerial support. Converge on my position.
FLIGHT OFFICER (COMM): Orders confirmed, lieutenant.
Kron exhales and surveys the courtyard. Colonial soldiers take cover behind wreckage and rubble. Corvan studies the rooftops, hydraulic fluid leaking from his mechanized leg.
SARANUS KRON: Are you picking anything up?
A glint of light in the distance. Corvan vents, then steps out and fires his rifle.
CORVAN: Yes.
Pulse blasts rip through the air and impact wildly on the rooftop’s edge, spraying debris into the courtyard.
EXT. BISSON ROOFTOPS
Oddie calmly hunkers behind a pillar as pulse fire blasts apart his cover. He pulls a small trigger device from his coat and hits a button.
Several automated turrets engage along the rooftops overlooking the courtyard. They zero in on the colonial soldiers and begin to fire.
EXT. BISSON COURTYARD
On the ground, Kron runs from cover to cover. A particle bolt spears through a partially collapsed wall, shredding the soldier on the other side.
SARANUS KRON: Grek!! Take out those guns, Corvan! (then) Kron to station command!
INT. SPACE STATION COMMAND DECK
Aboard the command deck of the colonial space station, Elona and the crew monitor a complex array of holographic readouts.
ELONA ZOREN: (to comms) Do what you can, Rider. (then) I’m reading you, Kron.
SARANUS KRON (COMM): Elona, we’ve made hostile contact! Serious off world tech!
ELONA ZOREN: I know, I’m watching on the sensors but there isn’t much else I can do from here.
SARANUS KRON (COMM): How many hostiles are we looking at?
ELONA ZOREN: Two non-conforming bio-signatures, most likely zaridians, and 7 remote auto-cannons. I’ve already got Rider working on disabling and tracing their command signal but it could take a while. Aerial support is another 400 micreks out, I recommend disengaging until they arrive at your position.
EXT. BISSON COURTYARD
Weapons fire erupts all through the courtyard. A colonial soldier drops. Then another.
SARANUS KRON: We don’t have time for that. (then) Stand by, station command.
Corvan turns and blasts one turret off a rooftop.
CORVAN: Go!
Kron nods at him and breaks away at a sprint. Soldiers rally to Kron’s side as he navigates the warzone.
SARANUS KRON: You two, on me!
EXT. BISSON ALLEYWAY
Followed by two soldiers, Kron slips into a side alley. They run along the path, gunfire chattering across the block. A figure lurks along the walkways above them.
Suddenly, from above -- a blade tears through a soldier’s helmet. The figure drops down.
It’s Dorgo.
COLONIAL SOLDIER: Contact! Contact!!
Dorgo runs the other soldier through with his blade and throws Kron into the wall with his tail. Kron’s rifle is knocked away.
DORGO KONIDARIAN: How many colonials have died on Edari today? Are there any left on that station of yours?
Kron dives for his rifle but the zaridian leaps onto him, throttling the colonial officer with his tail.
DORGO KONIDARIAN (CONT’D): I don’t think we’ve met, lieutenant...?
Kron grabs him by the tail and swings him against the wall.
DORGO KONIDARIAN (CONT’D): Oof!!
Dorgo collapses in a daze. Kron gasps for breath. He tries to stand but collapses, wincing in pain -- green blood weeps from a severe knife wound in his side. Dorgo cackles and stands slowly brandishing his twin daggers.
DORGO KONIDARIAN (CONT’D): None of you drones seem to understand how outmatched you are here.
He levels his knife at Kron’s visor.
DORGO KONIDARIAN (CONT’D): The job was for your captain, but I don’t mind settling for you.
Kron covertly pulls a small device from his belt.
DORGO KONIDARIAN (CONT’D): Your name was on the list, too.
SARANUS KRON: You talk too much.
Kron throws down a gravity charge. The grenade like device explodes, dispersing a shockwave that knocks both him and Dorgo to the ground. A cloud of dust obscures the corridor.
Kron is lost in a daze, the world around him muffled.
Gunships pass overhead, and heavy weapons chatter echoes off the city walls.
FLIGHT OFFICER (COMM): Turrets eliminated, lieutenant. Sniper is on the move, we’re tracking.
After a moment, Kron staggers to his feet and raises his rifle.
SARANUS KRON: (to himself) Dralk…
DORGO KONIDARIAN (O.S.): That was very clever, lieutenant. But desperate.
Something darts past him -- he spins and fires -- nothing. Kron drops to a knee and clutches his side.
SARANUS KRON: (coughing) Let’s not drag this out.
Dorgo leaps out from the dust and grabs Kron from behind, pressing a knife against his throat. With minimal effort, it starts to carve into his exoskeleton.
DORGO KONIDARIAN: Agreed. I have a schedule to keep.
SARANUS KRON: Argh!
A shot rings out -- from a pulse pistol -- clipping Dorgo’s shoulder.
DORGO KONIDARIAN: Ah! Grek!
Kron grabs the knife and spins, driving it deep into Dorgo’s belly then slashes it across his throat.
DORGO KONIDARIAN (CONT’D): Ahhh!
They both collapse in agonizing pain. Kron clutches his claws to his bleeding side. Footsteps approach. A colonial boot appears by Kron’s head.
COMMANDER TYGG (O.S.): Good work, lieutenant.
SARANUS KRON: C-commander Tygg.
COMMANDER TYGG: Can you stand?
SARANUS KRON: I can try.
COMMANDER TYGG: Do.
Tygg stalks to Dorgo’s side. The zaridian clutches at his throat. Tygg presses his boot to Dorgo’s throat and smiles insincerely.
COMMANDER TYGG (CONT’D): You’ll need to keep more pressure on that, bounty hunter.
DORGO KONIDARIAN: Ack--!!
Kron looks at Tygg, then at Dorgo who writhes in agony.
SARANUS KRON: Sir, we should take him into custody. Find out who hired him. And why.
COMMANDER TYGG: You think we can trust anything he tells us?
SARANUS KRON: He wouldn’t be talking to us, sir.
Tygg nods.
COMMANDER TYGG: You learned a lot in Academy. You would be a good captain.
He shoots Dorgo in the head. The zaridian goes limp. Kron stares at Tygg.
COMMANDER TYGG (CONT’D): But Academy doesn’t understand the frontier anymore. Colonial authority doesn’t exist here unless we enforce it.
Tygg picks up one of Dorgo’s knives.
COMMANDER TYGG (CONT’D): If it’s not a protected species, you’re better off killing it. Do you understand, Kron?
He hands the knife to Kron. Kron accepts it reluctantly.
SARANUS KRON: Yes sir.
Tygg extends a claw to Kron.
COMMANDER TYGG: Come on. He wasn’t working alone.
EXT. BISSON AIRSPACE
A sleek ship punches through a column of black smoke, leaving swirling eddies in its wake. It’s the Berenian, flying over the smoldering ruins of Bisson.
INT. THE BERENIAN
Osborn watches the city pass by through the forward windows with furrowed brows. He flips switches and adjust dials. Static over the comms.
BEN OSBORN: (to himself) Come on, work you grekking piece of…
ODDIE KONIDARIAN (COMM): (flustered, broken signal) Osborn! Lock onto my signal and get
me the grek out of here!!
Osborn flips more switches.
BEN OSBORN: Dralk, Oddie? The-- the computer doesn’t work that quick, Oddie, where the hell are you?
EXT. BISSON ROOFTOPS
Oddie Konidarian bounds across the uneven rooftops of Bisson on all six limbs with preternatural agility. Pulse blasts erupt behind him and shoot past. The Berenian flies ahead of the reptilian alien, skimming low over the city’s rooftops.
ODDIE KONIDARIAN: (breathing hard) Upper rooftops. Leaving the temple district.
BEN OSBORN (COMM): Temple-- uh, hang on.
ODDIE KONIDARIAN: I’m on your tail.
BEN OSBORN (COMM): Yeah sure you are. Stay put, I’ll come around to you.
He ducks behind a support pillar and unslings the particle rifle from his back.
BEN OSBORN (COMM) (CONT’D): What about Dorgo?
He peeks around to see Corvan, accompanied by a squad of colonial soldiers.
ODDIE KONIDARIAN: Hurry, Osborn…
INT. THE BERENIAN
Osborn works frantically in the cockpit. He glances at the atmospheric fuel gauge: 10%
BEN OSBORN: (exhales) Stand by.
EXT. THE BERENIAN
The Berenian pulls a tight 180 degree maneuver over the city, its engines pulsing with energy as it takes off again.
EXT. BISSON STREET LEVEL
On a narrow street, Kron and Tygg load into a shuttle. They turn to watch as the ship passes overhead.
COMMANDER TYGG: Get us into the air! Follow that ship!
EXT. THE BERENIAN
The stone towers of Bisson whip past as the Berenian flies effortlessly low over the city. It winds its way around and through the dense city infrastructure. Behind, a colonial gunship follows in hot pursuit.
INT. THE BERENIAN
Osborn’s cybernetic eye works double time as the ship’s heads up display projects a frantic number of analytical readouts. The comm chirps.
COLONIAL GUNSHIP (COMM): Unidentified vessel, by authority of the Colonial Queen, you are ordered to land immediately. Failure to comply will be met with force.
He flips a switch and the targeting computer comes online, tracking the four colonial gunships.
EXT. COLONIAL MILITARY SHUTTLE
The colonial shuttle’s auto-cannons come online, decoupling from their fixed positions along the wings and tracking the Berenian ahead. They charge up with a deep hum of energy.
INT. THE BERENIAN
From the cockpit, Osborn maneuvers the Berenian to view a large plume of black smoke billowing from the depths of a blown out city district. An alarm sounds and a screen reads: warning, target lock.
Osborn glances at the atmospheric fuel: 7%. He exhales tensely and pushes forward on the throttle.
EXT. BISSON AIRSPACE
The Berenian’s atmospheric engines rev up and the ship flies past. The colonial gunship whips by in pursuit.
INT. COLONIAL MILITARY SHUTTLE
Seen through the windshield of the colonial gunship, the Berenian slips into the cloud of smoke.
COLONIAL PILOT: AS-3-1 to Commander Tygg, we are in weapons range of the target--
EXT. BISSON AIRSPACE
The gunship punches through the other side of the black cloud and slows to a hover.
INT. COLONIAL MILITARY SHUTTLE
COLONIAL PILOT: Where the grek did that ship go?
COMMANDER TYGG (COMM): AS-3-1 status report--
INT. THE BERENIAN
Aboard the Berenian, the targeting computer locks onto the colonial ship through the smoke. Osborn jams forward on the throttle.
EXT. BISSON AIRSPACE
The Berenian explodes out of the smoke, high above the gunship. A mounted cannon decouples from under the ship and fires on the colonials. It dives on the colonial vessel like a falcon.
Blaster cannon fire rips through the gunship, shredding it violently in the air. The Berenian swoops low, dipping into the city, then banks back over its pillared rooftops.
INT. THE BERENIAN
In the cockpit, Osborn checks the fuel gauge: 4%. He stomps his feet.
BEN OSBORN: Come on. Come on!!
He pushes forward on the throttle.
EXT. BISSON ROOFTOPS
Massive weapons fire erupts in the distance. From his vantage point, Oddie watches as the Berenian weaves its way toward him, drawing the attention of the other colonial gunships. He glances back at the advancing squad. A massive pulse blast tears through his cover.
ODDIE KONIDARIAN: Ah! Grek!!
Across the rooftop, Corvan charges another cannon shot. He vents.
CORVAN (O.S.): Surrender. Or be destroyed.
Oddie turns and runs. Corvan vents, his optical sensors tracking the zaridian’s escape.
EXT. BISSON AIRSPACE
Thwarting the pulse cannons of the gunships, the Berenian rolls into view. Pulse blasts blaze past and a few skim off the hull.
The Berenian squeezes nimbly through the tight spaces of the city with two colonial gunships in close pursuit. Weapons fire rips into surrounding buildings, sending out sprays of shrapnel.
INT. THE BERENIAN
Osborn squints as fragments of rock and dust splash across the forward window. Frantic alarms sound in the cockpit. He takes a few deep breathes, then pulls back hard on the throttle and engages the air brakes.
EXT. BISSON AIRSPACE
Its engines cut, the Berenian drops in the air and falls behind the two pursuing ships.
INT. THE BERENIAN
The targeting computer locks on. Osborn pulls the trigger.
EXT. BISSON AIRSPACE
Now, blaster fire rips from the Berenian’s cannon. One colonial ship is able to evade the blasts, but the Berenian shreds the hull of the other. The ship explodes, cascading fire and shrapnel.
INT. THE BERENIAN
Debris blows past and bounces off of the Berenian’s forward window. Osborn jams forward on the throttle.
BEN OSBORN: Okay Oddie, I’m coming in hot, you’d better be ready to grekking move!
EXT. BISSON ROOFTOPS
Oddie leaps across a gap between rooftops, then drops to a lower platform as the Berenian rises before him. Its engines blow massive blooms of dust into the air. The ramp drops. Oddie unslings his rifle and drops it.
Suddenly a pulse blast rips into the rooftop under his feet, sending him flying. A second pulse blast tears apart the Berenian’s atmospheric engine. Shrapnel flies everywhere and Oddie dives away. Noxious smoke billows from the ship’s exhaust, then flames.
Oddie lifts his head to watch the ship drift into a building.
INT. THE BERENIAN
The cockpit of the Berenian is a cacophony of alarms.
BEN OSBORN: No, no, come on!
EXT. BISSON ROOFTOPS
In a daze, Oddie rolls over to see Corvan standing over him. Corvan vents.
CORVAN: Surrender. Or be destroyed.
Defeated, Oddie collapses.
INT. THE BERENIAN
Osborn flips several switches. There’s a brief roar then the engines sputter weakly.
Outside the window, the rooftops of the city begin to engulf the Berenian as the ship loses altitude. The Berenian crashes, hard.
EXT. BISSON AIRSPACE
The Berenian drifts down through the city, trapped between the walls of a temple and a row of burial towers. The engines cut out and the ship comes to a hard landing. Gunships howl in the distance, on an approach.
INT. THE BERENIAN
Osborn tries to toggle the engines, but nothing is responding. He hits the console with his fists.
BEN OSBORN: Shit!
EXT. BISSON STREETS
Heat rises off the engines of the Berenian as it blocks the entire city street. A crowd of holkari begins to form.
HOLKARI 1: Al koma ta do muku.
HOLKARI 2: Kabba da muku ta do ki.
A colonial gunship flies in slowly overhead. The holkari point and cower away from it. It hovers, then lands. Its engines shift into idle, then cycle down. The hatch slides back. Lieutenant Kron, bearing a medical patch on his side, drops into the cloud of dust and smoke. He trains a pulse rifle at the Berenian’s cargo loading ramp.
Commander Tygg jumps down beside him, pistol in hand. They approach the ship cautiously. Other colonial soldiers leap out and take up siege positions around the Berenian’s cargo hold.
COMMANDER TYGG: Stay alert, lieutenant.
The Berenian’s engines ping and hiss as they cool. The last gunship flies in overhead and hovers, weapons at the ready. The ramp decompresses and opens. Kron and Tygg freeze. All guns are on the Berenian. The ramp drops slowly to the ground. Kron stares down his pulse rifle.
Osborn steps to the top of the ramp.
Tygg frowns.
COMMANDER TYGG (CONT’D): Impossible…
The block goes silent. Soldiers begin to shift around anxiously. With his hands held up, Osborn walks slowly down the ramp. His boots echo off the metal. He stops on the dusty ground. Kron lowers his rifle.
SARANUS KRON: It’s... you’re human.
BEN OSBORN: Yeah.
END