The Hyacinth Disaster E1P2
I bought this with my money. I took care of it. ARGUS: Did you...did you name it? 17
GRIMM: No. ARGUS: You did name it! Oh my god, what is it? What do you call it? Tinkerbell? Butterfly? Lola? Is it Lola? GRIMM: I'm about to name it Argusdeath. ARGUS: I wouldn't even be mad about that! That's a badass name! CONTROL: Guys... GRIMM: I'm checking the servo now. Let's see. Yup. Weld rupture. *pause* What the hell?? ARGUS: What?? CONTROL: Grimm. Elaborate. GRIMM: Um...it looks like something chewed on Argus' vacsuit. ARGUS: What?? GRIMM: 18
...like it was trying to get inside. ARGUS: Did it get in?? GRIMM: *screams to startle Argus* ARGUS: *screams* CONTROL: REPORT! Grimm? Argus?? GRIMM: *laughter* ARGUS: You bastard! GRIMM: That's for stringing my clothes out the airlock last week, sucker! ARGUS: Dammit! CONTROL: Kanker, Grimm! Knock it off and patch Argus up. We're on borrowed time! GRIMM: Can Blue get this recording off the blackbox? Priceless! CONTROL: Grimm! GRIMM: 19
Yeah, yeah, Con, I'm on it. CONTROL: Do I have to remind you why we're here? GRIMM: ...No! You don't. CONTROL: Ember's running out of time! GRIMM: You think I don't know that, asshole? CONTROL: Then stop screwing around! GRIMM: I'm not just-- ARGUS: You're way out of line, Con. CONTROL: How am I-- DREADNOUGHT: Dread to Con. CONTROL: Klere! [closes GRIMM & ARGUS' channels, opens DREADNOUGHT's channel] WHAT?! DREADNOUGHT: 20
Uh...Squealer's set. It probably won't tell me a lot more than how much further I'll have to drill, but I need some feedback. You know when they'll be done? CONTROL: Standby. [closes DREADNOUGHT's channel and opens GRIMM & ARGUS' channels] Control to Exos 7 and 4. ARGUS: *pause* Aye, Control. 7 here, plus one. CONTROL: Dreadnought's got the squealer ready. How's the patch? *pause* Look. I'm just trying to get this done. GRIMM: I've known Ember longer than you, dammit! The only thing keeping me from freaking out is pretending like nothing's wrong, just doing a job. I know my job. I happen to be pretty good at it! CONTROL: Ok, Grimm. You're right. I'm sorry. GRIMM: Hmph ARGUS: I think that's “Grimm” for “I forgive you, kinda.” GRIMM: Hmph ARGUS: Now kiss! 21
CONTROL: Look, this'll be over soon and we'll have a beer or ten with our mates on the Corvus. GRIMM: YOU'RE BUYING! CONTROL: Captain always buys. How's the patch? GRIMM: We're about done. ARGUS: Watch it! That's my lucky C4! GRIMM: For all the good it's doing...not making a good day, so far. Control, the patch here should hold until we get back. ...Long as nothing chews on it. ARGUS: Screw you. CONTROL: Confirmed. Hurry back and finish up. Argus? ARGUS: Aye. CONTROL: When is your scanner gonna be set up? ARGUS: 22
I've got, let's see...two more receptors to place. I'll be done in a minute. Station suspicious at all, by the way? CONTROL: Blue says no. Dealing with other crap. [close ARGUS' channel] Grimm, when can you be ready? GRIMM: I was almost ready before Argus broke himself, and I had to get all the way here, and now I have to-- CONTROL: Grimm. GRIMM: Gimme 6 mikes. CONTROL: Confirmed. [closes GRIMM's channel, opens DREADNOUGHT's channel] Control to Exo 2. DREADNOUGHT: What's gotcha? CONTROL: Argus and Grimm'll be ready in about 6 minutes. DREADNOUGHT: I...ok. CONTROL: What's wrong? DREADNOUGHT: 23
I'm pretty much already set here. You're sure Argus and Grimm know what they're doing? CONTROL: I've worked with them on half a dozen rocks. They get the job done. DREADNOUGHT: ...especially since we're trying to pull this off with stone-age equipment. CONTROL: [opens ARGUS' channel] Con to Exo 7. Is your scanner ready? ARGUS: Yup. Just waiting on Grimm, now. CONTROL: Good. Because Dreadnought here is concerned about our ability to do this job, since we're old. ARGUS: Oh, IS he? DREADNOUGHT: Man, come on. I'm not trying to start any... Listen, Argus, you guys clearly know what you're doing-- ARGUS: You're what, Dreadnought, 16? 17? 16. DREADNOUGHT: I'm 24, dude. ARGUS: Right. And a surveyor, I might add. Have you ever actually walked on a rock before this one? 24
DREADNOUGHT: ...Yeah, uh, a couple. ARGUS: Uh huh. Well, ‘dude', we've stripped dozens of asteroids of their precious treasure, found enough ore to build a hundred starships, fixed thousands of catastrophic breakdowns while stranded in deep space, and each of us has had reasonable success in at least one committed relationship! DREADNOUGHT: Yeah that's great but-- ARGUS: We've stared death in the face a million times, evaded pirates, exposed traitors, and fought aliens! DREADNOUGHT: Wait, what? ARGUS: Fair enough, I made up the last bit, but the point is: we can handle this. DREADNOUGHT: I was pretty confident in your incredible experience, man. I'm just hoping your ship and this equipment holds up. ARGUS: Oh...Well, we're screwed there. There's no way this stuff is gonna work perfectly. My leg already broke, kid. DREADNOUGHT: Yeah. ARGUS: 25
But, you're right. Our incredible experience will compensate for equipment hangups, and new guys. As for the Missus, she's fine, she'll hold together, she'll be fine. ...Don't worry about it. DREADNOUGHT: The ‘Missus'? ARGUS: You know, the Mineral Retrieval Ship. The M R S Hyac--You really need to meet more people, kid! DREADNOUGHT: But fewer miners, clearly. ARGUS: And learn to not mess with MRS captains, by the way. Con threw you at me on purpose, Dreadnought. Welcome to the Hyacinth! [closes channel] DREADNOUGHT: Well, thanks for that, Captain Hynes, sir. CONTROL: Alsjeblieft! DREADNOUGHT: I've half a mind to set off the squealer now, see how you like getting your ears blown off. CONTROL: Dreadnought, if you fry our comms, I fry your-- BLUE: Con! 26
CONTROL: [opens BLUE's channel] What's up, Blue? BLUE: Station is on the line! CONTROL: [closes ARGUS' channel] Kanker, Blue! You said they didn't know anything! BLUE: I said they weren't suspicious based on what I was hearing! They contacted me directly. CONTROL: You're not even supposed to be on the Hyacinth! BLUE: I mean they contacted the ship. I didn't tell them who I was. They want to talk to you! CONTROL: ...Why?! BLUE: I don't know why. CONTROL: *freaks out a little* You turned the locator off, yes? BLUE: Is that a serious question, or have you been popping shots in the last five minutes? 27
CONTROL: Right. Sorry. I'll take it. BLUE: Sterkte. CONTROL: Dankjewel. *deep breath* [opens STATION's channel] This is Conlin Hynes. STATION: Hynes? Why do I have to call you on ship? You're not on the clock are you? CONTROL: No. STATION: Where are you? CONTROL: Hyacinth was all hinky last week. A few of my crew and I are doing a once-over for next shift. STATION: I'm not pinging you. What's your location? CONTROL: We had to power down all transmission sources and test them individually. Haven't gotten to the locator yet. STATION: Where are-- CONTROL: 28
Station I'm trying to get ready for next shift! Is there something you needed? STATION: Yes. The Grissom's had a problem at 7-3305. CONTROL: How tangled did she get? STATION: You've heard about it? CONTROL: Uh, yeah. I've got one of my guys listening through channels to help us identify our radio problem. STATION: Oh. Well Grissom is completely fouled. Had a major engine malfunction and twisted into its asteroid tether. Gonna cost a hell of a lot to fix. CONTROL: Is everyone ok? STATION: The commander didn't mention any casualties. CONTROL: You didn't ask, did you? STATION: We take the safety of our contract crews seriously. CONTROL: Oh. So Corvus' crew is ransomed back, then? STATION: *sighs* 29
The crew of the Corvus were killed in an unfortunate encounter with rogue-- CONTROL: Like hell they were! We've all seen the message, klootzak! STATION: Any communication from their attackers implying the crew survived has been deemed false by a team of forensic data specialists. CONTROL: They went out there on Corporate orders! They're in danger because Corporate is pretending nobody knows what the entirety of the outsystem mining population absolutely knows! The crew of the Corvus are still alive! STATION: That is rampant, imaginative speculation based on hearsay. CONTROL: That is rampant, corporate ass-covering based on you being a bastard! STATION: I'll log that as a formal complaint, if you wish. Meanwhile the Grissom... CONTROL: We're not a rescue vessel! Did you decide it was too expensive to dispatch those to the scene? STATION: Of course not. The crew will be safe soon. We need you to pick up the slack until Grissom is repaired. Head out to 7-3305 immediately. CONTROL: We're still fixing our transmitters! STATION: You can fix them en route. 30
CONTROL: And if something goes wrong on the way? STATION: Use this channel. It obviously works. CONTROL: For now! STATION: We expect you to report to 7-3305 by 0500. CONTROL: We need more time! STATION: Don't we all. Station out. [closes channel] BLUE: “Sure, Station! We'd love to accommodate your sociopathy! Will we get overtime?” “What is ‘overtime'?” “Never mind! We're happy to comply! We sure love you, Station!” “What is ‘love'?” “Never mind, Station! Just keep being you!” Well...at least you get to work a class 7 asteroid. CONTROL: Yippee. BLUE: How long will it take to get there? CONTROL: 31
Well, we'd have to drop by station to pick up the rest of my crew, and get you out without anyone noticing, so we'd have to leave in...52 minutes. BLUE: “And in other pleasant news, meteors are pelting Martian cities, chocolate is suddenly poisonous, and the Sun has unexpectedly gone nova!” CONTROL: Yeah. [opens channel to all crew] Attention all hands. We now have almost no time. Station has “requested” that we report in early to cover for the Grissom. GRIMM: Station?? CONTROL: They still don't know we're out here, but we now have less than an hour to finish scanning this damn rock. Is that possible, Dreadnought? DREADNOUGHT: ...Yeah?? CONTROL: ...I thought so. Ok, what do we need to-- ARGUS: Wait, stop! We're Ember's only chance at survival? Temple's deadline ends in 3 hours. Why do we care what Station wants? CONTROL: This rock is Ember's only chance, Argus. This is it. If it isn't valuable, there's no sense in waiting around for Corporate to take us down. I won't let you all get thrown in some hellish prison for no good reason. So we need to find out what we've got here, fast! 32
GRIMM: *pause* All I want is one good day. Is that too much to ask? CONTROL: Them's the cards, Grimm. Double-time, everyone! And please keep your thoughts to yourselves; I did my best. [close channel to all] BLUE: Heavy hangs the head that wears the-- CONTROL: [opens BLUE's channel] Not now, Blue. BLUE: Want some coffee? CONTROL: Tastes like nuclear runoff. BLUE: Some people are into that. CONTROL: I wish Corporate was. Was that a new dispatcher? BLUE: I think so. Least, I didn't recognize him. CONTROL: Where do they get these guys? BLUE: 33
I like to imagine they have a factory. Like, biiiiiiiiig warehouse full of lumps of iron shaped like hearts, but instead of a beat, they have little servos. “Is it functioning, sir?” “Let me check its heart.” “Bzzzzzzzzz” “Yup. All good. Won't let feelings get in the--” CONTROL: [closes BLUE's channel and opens GRIMM's channel] Grimm! GRIMM: Shoot. CONTROL: Are you done? GRIMM: I was about to hail you. I'm all set. Let's make this rock squeal. CONTROL: [opens channel to all crew] Control to all exos, prep for scanning shock. Exo 7, go? ARGUS: Go, Con! CONTROL: Exo 4, go? GRIMM: Go. CONTROL: 34
Confirmed. Exo 2, we're good to go. DREADNOUGHT: *statid* CONTROL: Control to Exo 2. Dreadnought? DREADNOUGHT: I'm good, man. You read? CONTROL: Barely. Damn your radio! DREADNOUGHT: Consider it damned! ...Are we doing this? GRIMM: We're waiting for you. DREADNOUGHT: Whoo hoo! I'm good to go! CONTROL: Everyone lock comms and hold on. And, you know, cross your fingers or something. Ember needs it.