The Hyacinth Disaster E3
The Hyacinth Disaster By David Carlson EPISODE 3
CONTROL: What do you mean, he's ‘gone'!? GRIMM: Sorry. English being my second language and all, maybe I used the wrong word... ARGUS: English isn't your second lang-- GRIMM: Well, then! CONTROL: Wait, Grimm, where could he possibly have gone? GRIMM: Probably wherever the squealer went. ARGUS: What, he took the squealer?! GRIMM: Looks like. CONTROL: Guys, the squealer is twice his size! There's no way he could ha-- ARGUS: They'll think we faked the scans if we don't have the squealer! FINCH: I know Dreadnought! I don't think he'd try anything like that! CONTROL:
Guys! GRIMM: Well he couldn't leave without a ship, so make sure he didn't jet up there to steal the shuttle. FINCH: He's not the type to screw us over, trust me! GRIMM: All evidence to the contrary! BLUE: [hits her console, producing a loud BANG] Everybody SHUT UP! Argus, get back in here so we can get your suit fixed. Grimm's gonna need your help. GRIMM: I am? BLUE: Grimm! Transmit your camera feed so we can see what the heck is going on! GRIMM: I can tell you what I'm looking at just fine, th-- BLUE: Did I stutter, Grimm? Camera! Now! Finch? FINCH: Hey. BLUE:
Dreadnought may not be dumb enough to screw us over. But just in case, you'd better make sure the shuttle can't be accessed from outside. FINCH: Well emergency measures will let him get inside, but I can keep it from launching if-- BLUE: Just do it! [Pause, then a BEEP sounds through GRIMM's channel] GRIMM: Camera on. CONTROL: I'm not seeing it. GRIMM: These things never work. CONTROL: Well, the transmission, anyway. They always record fine. ARGUS: Grimm and I found that out when we painted Ember's drill hot pink. She almost killed us. [connection BEEP sounds] CONTROL: Wait, I got it now, Grimm. [slow, repeating BEEP sounds, indicating GRIMM's camera is transmitting] What is that? GRIMM:
What? CONTROL: On your 9. GRIMM: That's where Dreadnought was working the squealer. CONTROL: And you didn't think it mattered that there's a whacking great crevasse there now? GRIMM: There's practically no gravity! Why the hell should I expect him to have fallen into a crack? ARGUS: This rock has been acting weird. GRIMM: You wanna run that by me again? ARGUS: The rock's been acting weird. GRIMM: [pause] ...Try it again, but think about how stupid it sounds! ARGUS: It has been! GRIMM: It's a ROCK! An ASTEROID! CONTROL:
Ok, guys. We need to focus. We're not beholden to Station at this point, but Dreadnought might be hurt, and the illustrious commander of the frigate Tesseract doesn't seem like the patient type either. BLUE: Oh geez. You're right. I can probably contact him directly if you want to cut out the middle man. I bet his people'd love to sink their grimy hands into this baby. CONTROL: [exhales] That...is tempting. But we're way too deep behind Corporate's zone. I don't want to make this whole turf dispute worse. GRIMM: It'd give us an opportunity to capture one of their ships, though. CONTROL: Grimm, listen to yourself! We're miners. With a mining v essel. Plus, we can't make any kind of deal with anyone right now: we don't have the squealer's data to confirm the scans. ARGUS: Or Dreadnought. Finch is right: we don't actually know he turned on us. He could be in trouble. GRIMM: If we didn't need the squealer I'd say leave him. ARGUS: ...You can be a right bastard sometimes. GRIMM: Yep. I don't much care for crisis-profiteers, or are you suddenly warming up to Corporate's methods, too?
CONTROL: Grimm! Come on! GRIMM: Can we just do this, already? I'm gonna head down the crevasse. Find the squealer. CONTROL: And Dreadnought. GRIMM: Right. ARGUS: I'm gonna jet over. CONTROL: Negative, Argus. You need to get a solid weld. If that joint tears loose again there's no telling the damage it's gonna do! ARGUS: I'll be careful. Besides, Grimm's not gonna wait, nor should he. We need to get this wrapped up so Ember and the boys can come home. BLUE: Like, actual home. CONTROL: If we have anything to say about it, yes. BLUE: It's cool. Money talks. It's Corporate's native language, in fact. ARGUS: [BEEP sounds, then a faint HISS as ARGUS activates his jets]
I'm on my way, Grimm. BLUE: Wait. ARGUS: What? BLUE: Not you, Argus. CONTROL: What is it? BLUE: If Dreadnought is under the surface, that's probably why we can't pick up his signal. CONTROL: Or his comms actually gave out. BLUE: Sure, but from the density involved here, we're gonna need a radio boost relay in the rift so we don't lose Grimm and Argus, too. CONTROL: Damn. ARGUS: Guys, We don't have time to stop. And Grimm and I know how this goes. FINCH: Let me suit up real quick and bring a relay out there... CONTROL: Finch, we don't have any more exos.
FINCH: I can just use a vacsuit. CONTROL: For venturing off the ship, down the tether, and over kilometers of open asteroid surface? That's insane, Finch, and you know it. ARGUS: Do you have any drones? CONTROL: We couldn't bring them. Corporate tracks everything, remember? ARGUS: No, I mean the old, the old ones. CONTROL: Corporate ordered us to scrap them. Safety hazard, remember? ARGUS: Right...So do you have any? CONTROL: Unfortunately, no. ARGUS: Con! CONTROL: They were unusually insistent! BLUE: Probes! CONTROL:
What? ARGUS: I'm suddenly not liking this conversation. BLUE: Argus! Shhh! I'm saying we can use our mining probes. Attach a relay inside, and we can guide it right to the crevasse. ARGUS: You mean those things packed with C4 we launch at incredible speeds to break asteroids open with? They're not probes! They're missiles! BLUE: Well yeah, it'd come in hot but I could slow it down, strip it of explosives. ARGUS: Great, so it won't kill us, it'll just smash the relay on impact. BLUE: I can guide it. The relay will be fine. CONTROL: You're sure? BLUE: Most likely. CONTROL: So, a good chance? BLUE: Ok, more like 50-50 but we gotta try. CONTROL:
Should we move the Missus over the crevasse? FINCH: Honestly we should probably keep the tether right where it is. Argus is right about this rock acting funny. GRIMM: You're all crazy. BLUE: Oh, hiiiiiii Grimm! Thanks for the input! ARGUS: [several BEEPs as ARGUS slows with his jets to settle near GRIMM] Ok I'm here, with Grimm. We need to find Dreadnought, and retrieve the squealer data. Relay or not, we are going. CONTROL: Blue? BLUE: [exhales] I can do this. CONTROL: [close FINCH's channel] Alright. Find Finch and get started. Grimm? Argus?
GRIMM: Shoot. CONTROL: Start down. Keep the channel open as long as you can. GRIMM:
Video won't work well once we drop below surface. CONTROL: Turn it off, then. As long as you watch each others' backs it should be fine. GRIMM: You don't have to tell me twice. [BEEP as GRIMM deactivates camera] Ok. Looks like a crack we see on any rock. There's nothing weird about it. ARGUS: Except somehow Dreadnought fell into it with...practically no gravity. GRIMM: Hmph ARGUS: See, you say that, Grimm, but you're ignoring the facts. CONTROL: ...I thought ‘hmph' meant ‘I forgive you, kinda.' ARGUS: Yeah Grimmspeak is actually tonal. It's a very subtle, inflection-based language. Takes a while to learn it. CONTROL: [in background, hydraulic door opens and closes as BLUE leaves the bridge] Uh huh. Well, gravity or not, I need you guys to head into the crevice. So jump in. *pause* Hello? GRIMM: Shockingly, we're barely moving.
We're literally pulling ourselves down the walls. Dreadnought would've had to try to get down here. ARGUS: Sensors giving an average depth of..428.4 meters. CONTROL: That's...well past where he drilled to. ARGUS: [vocal signal degrades as ARGUS moves deeper into the crevasse] Well maybe he drilled into a cave system? GRIMM: [vocal signal degrades as well] Seems like it. CONTROL: Well, keep an eye on the walls. ARGUS: Seem stable enough. I'm gonna drop a flare. GRIMM: You mean throw it? ARGUS: Whatever. *pause* Bounce, bounce...bounce. Looks cool. FINCH: Hey, Con? CONTROL: [close GRIMM & ARGUS' channel] [open FINCH's channel] Yeah? FINCH: We could use an extra pair of hands down here. CONTROL: Helping with the high explosive removal? Yeah, I'm no good. FINCH: When it comes to explosives, there are only Experts, and dead. You're not dead, so... CONTROL: See that's a bit over-reductive, I think! FINCH: Grimm and Argus are fine. Come on. CONTROL: [presses buttons randomly] I need to be up here to monitor for Dreadnought and watch sensors. FINCH: Suit yourself. Blue's attitude is a bit charged at the moment. It's fun to see her go. CONTROL: Yeah, let's keep a level head down there. FINCH: She's a real firecracker. I like her. CONTROL: Do you think her plan will work?
FINCH: Sure! It's an explosive notion. CONTROL: Oh gods. FINCH: No chance it'll bomb. CONTROL: Not again. FINCH: It's a nuclear scheme! CONTROL: [sighs] People's lives are still on the line, here. FINCH: Relax, Con. I'm sure Dreadnought is fine. Argus and Grimm'll retrieve him and the squealer, and we'll be out of here in no time. We did it. This rock is a huge find! We've got the leverage to help Ember. GRIMM: Grimm to Con. CONTROL: I gotta go. Grimm is checking in. FINCH: Bye, handsome! GRIMM: Grimm to con!
CONTROL: [close FINCH's channel] [opens GRIMM's channel] Con here. GRIMM: We're almost at the bottom. CONTROL: Any sign of Dreadnought? GRIMM: Not yet. ARGUS: Wow. CONTROL: [opens ARGUS' channel] What? ARGUS: Yeah, he definitely opened up a cave system. GRIMM: The squealer! ARGUS: Where? GRIMM: Over here! CONTROL: What's its condition?
ARGUS: *pause* That's weird. CONTROL: What is? GRIMM: Yeah. CONTROL: Would anyone care to elaborate? GRIMM: It's smashed. At this gravity it shoulda hit the floor like a feather. CONTROL: How smashed? GRIMM: Like rookies on payday. Should be able to retrieve the data, though. ARGUS: Do you see it? Do you see it? Wait, wait! This'll cut right through your suit! GRIMM: Yeah, I see it. Let me get these wires out of the way. CONTROL: How long do you think this'll take? GRIMM: Can't reach the card slot. I got about 8 feet of twisted metal to pull out. ARGUS: Watch out!
GRIMM: Dammit! Argus, grab my tape and throw it through, will you? I can't reach back. ARGUS: ...no. No. I'm not sorting through your pouches. Take mine. GRIMM: Thanks. I'll be a few mikes, Con. CONTROL: Confirmed. Argus, any sign of Dreadnought? ARGUS: Not yet. Hold on… I mean there's other caves he could have disappeared into. GRIMM: Or run into. ARGUS: Don't start. GRIMM: Come on, go with the facts, Argus! He disappears right after we confirm that this rock is LOADED. We find the squealer smashed at the bottom of a crevasse when the only way it could have been damaged is if someone broke it on purpose. Now I think about it, I'll wager anything the damn memory card is gone. ARGUS: And why the hell would he do that? GRIMM: Oh, I don't know. Maybe to take the money for himself! ARGUS:
Grimm, you're a damn idiot! It's a zillion miles through dead space to station! How would he get there? GRIMM: He surveyed this rock before. The scanning drone would still be here, right? He doesn't need to leave! All he has to do is retrieve it, use its radio to contact Station, and negotiate a deal with them. They'll come pick him up and screw us over! For all we know they're already on their way! ARGUS: That's a lot of supposing. GRIMM: Well, he's a money-grubbing bastard who took advantage of us wanting to save our friends. Even if there's a damn fantastic reason WHY he's missing and this thing is smashed, it wouldn't bother me if he disappeared for good. ARGUS: He's just a kid, Grimm! We're the only people who could help him! GRIMM: And you're the only person who's stupid enough to care. ARGUS: Go to hell! GRIMM: Where are you going? ARGUS: Con! CONTROL: Uh, control? ARGUS:
Are you gonna get that damn relay out here or what? I'm going in. CONTROL: Negative, Argus. Wait until we get it ready. Your signal's bad enough. [ARGUS' channel closes] Argus?! GRIMM: He's gone. CONTROL: Well follow him! GRIMM: How about no? I'm clearing this equipment out and hoping that bleeding-heart is right about Dreadnought. Otherwise, we're not gonna find that memory card. CONTROL: Grimm, come on! GRIMM: Bye. [GRIMM's channel closes] CONTROL: Kanker! [opens FINCH's channel] Con to Finch! *pause* Finch, come in. FINCH: [picks up headset] Hey. We're working here. CONTROL:
I know. I know. How long? FINCH: C4's out and Blue's just finishing insulating the relay for impact. CONTROL: Ok, make it quick. FINCH: Hey, what's wrong? CONTROL: What isn't wrong?? We have friends who've been kidnapped, Dreadnought's disappeared, and Grimm and Argus just had a screamfight about it. FINCH: Wow. CONTROL: Yeah. Argus just stormed off to find Dreadnought so I can't contact him either. I'm just trying to do right by Ember and I can't even keep my own crew together. But screw me for trying to help, right? FINCH: This isn't your fault. CONTROL: Still happened. FINCH: What happened is that you were willing to come out here for a longshot. It turned out to be a bullseye, thank goodness. But either way you're doing the right thing. Don't pretend you weren't going to try rescuing the Corvus directly before Dreadnought contacted me. CONTROL:
I was just brainstorming. FINCH: Yeah. You would've tried though, because you're an idiot. But you're an amazing, kind, caring idiot. That's why we all came with you. CONTROL: Having a heart isn't going to make this work. FINCH: No, that's exactly what's going to make this work. Station doesn't give a damn about anyone, and so Ember would rot if it wasn't for you. But yeah, being captain of a 400,000-ton mining ship with a willing team of experts helps a little. CONTROL: The willing part is fast dwindling. BLUE: (in background) Finch! I need a hand! FINCH: Your sister and I are not giving up, and Grimm and Argus are just stressed. We're all stressed. But you're going to lead us through hell and high water. CONTROL: Because I'm an idiot. FINCH: But an amazing idiot. CONTROL: I love you. FINCH:
Yeah, you do! CONTROL: I'll have to take you somewhere after this, before we head home. Maybe Hemelzae? Blue said it's lov-- BLUE: Finch! (a loud CRASH in the background) CONTROL: What was that? FINCH: Don't worry about it. CONTROL: Uh huh. FINCH: I'm coming! BLUE: Get it! Get it! Don't let it-- FINCH: Haha! BLUE: Fine. Take your bow and get over here. *pause* I saw that! FINCH: Saw what?
BLUE: Could you toss this C4 somewhere out of the way? FINCH: Sure. (Thud) BLUE: Almost done here. Grab those bolts and put them back in. FINCH: These? BLUE: Yup. [drilling starts] GRIMM: Grimm to Con. CONTROL: [open GRIMM's channel] Con here. GRIMM: I can't get this thing working, so I pulled it apart. Aaand the card is gone. CONTROL: The memory card? GRIMM: No, the birthday card. CONTROL: Happy birthday, Grimm!
FINCH & BLUE: Happy Birthday, Grimm! GRIMM: ...The hell was that? CONTROL: Finch and Blue letting you know you're being an ass. GRIMM: Eh. Fair enough. Point is Dreadnought took the card. CONTROL: [close GRIMM's channel] Con to missile bay. BLUE: Go ahead, Con. CONTROL: It seems...something is a little fishy, after all. Grimm pulled the squealer apart and the data card is gone. FINCH: [picks up headset] So Dreadnought took it? CONTROL: Apparently. FINCH: I'm sure there's a reason. Dreadnought's a good kid. CONTROL: Well, whatever that reason is, we need to find him.
BLUE: Not necessarily. CONTROL: What do you mean? GRIMM: Con, you there? BLUE: [picks up headset] If we can establish-- CONTROL: Hang on, Blue. I'm patching Grimm in. [open GRIMM's channel] Go ahead. BLUE: If we can establish a link to Dreadnought's comms again, I should be able to use it to extract the data from the card if he's anywhere near it. GRIMM: Great, then let's do that before he ruins everything. FINCH: We don't know he's trying to screw us. GRIMM: Like hell we don't. Why else would he take the card? And now Argus is unsuspectingly looking for him! Who knows what'll happen if he finds him? CONTROL: Finch, Blue: Grimm and I will sort this. You keep on the relay. [close FINCH & BLUE's channel] Grimm, can you contact Argus? GRIMM: Negative. I lost comms connection shortly after he went into the rock. CONTROL: Lemme check on the relay. Meanwhile you get ready to set it up. You're gonna have to pull it out of the probe casing. [close GRIMM's channel] [open FINCH & BLUE's channel] Blue? Finch? BLUE: [metallic clanging abounds] No no! This one goes there, that one goes there! FINCH: Yeah, yeah I got it. What's up, Con? CONTROL: We're kinda in a hurry here. BLUE: We're almost done! I'll be up in a second. FINCH: You're flying it? BLUE: I didn't get pulled off my ship to come here and not fly a missile. FINCH: Probe. BLUE: Potato, potorta. Get this loaded, please. I'll get the link set up in the bridge.
FINCH: Got it. [loading machine starts up] GRIMM: I'm ready here, Con. CONTROL: [close FINCH & BLUE's channel] [opens GRIMM's channel] Confirm. We'll be launching as soon as Blue gets up here. GRIMM: Well she'd better hurry up. Argus could be in trouble. CONTROL: Argus can take care of himself. GRIMM: Argus has no idea that Dreadnought's flaking, and his exo is falling apart. CONTROL: *pause* Good point. GRIMM: Yeah I've been making those, if anyone would listen! [GRIMM's channel closes] FINCH: Hey, Con? CONTROL: [open FINCH's channel] Control.
FINCH: Probe is loaded. Blue there yet? BLUE: [BLUE enters bridge through hydraulic door] Just came in on the express flight. FINCH: Well get set! BLUE: Calm down. I need a clear head and no pressure. CONTROL: Uh...but really there is lots of pressure, and you gotta do it anyway. BLUE: Shhhh! FINCH: Probe's loaded, Blue. BLUE: [locks into chair] Ok. Confirm Tube 16? FINCH: 18. 16 was looking bad. Or worse than usual, I should say. BLUE: I'm going to have a talk with my brother about this ship. FINCH: I've been trying for months.
CONTROL: Right, because maintenance is so easy with Corporate breathing down my neck! BLUE: [open GRIMM's channel] Blue to Grimm, you ready? GRIMM: I've been ready. BLUE: Well get readier. You're about to have eight tons of metal dropping in for a visit. GRIMM: Smashing. FINCH: Haha! Good one! BLUE: Locking in to your position, Grimm. You might want to back into a cleft or something. GRIMM: You did remove the C4? BLUE: Yeah, but it makes precious little difference if I hit too close to you. Or too fast. Or really if any one of five dozen possible things go wrong. GRIMM: ...Oh. Look at this lovely cave. I think I'll make its acquaintance. BLUE: Ok, Finch. Confirm locked?
FINCH: [locks probe tube door] Locked. BLUE: Confirm clear? FINCH: Clear! BLUE: Here we go. [launch countdown beep] Tube expunged. Probe away. Turning to 248.114 FINCH: *pause* You're off a little. BLUE: Shut up. I know. FINCH: Sorry. BLUE: Turning back. There. Ok. *deep exhale* CONTROL: What? BLUE: Once I fire main thrust, there's no stopping.
GRIMM: Anytime would be great. There's a lot at stake here. FINCH: I'll take it medium rare. GRIMM, CONTROL: Finch! BLUE: Firing! FINCH: Fire confirmed. BLUE: 5 klicks out. Reverse in twenty seconds. FINCH: Ready. CONTROL: Reverse? FINCH: Flipping the probe backwards at the last second to slow it-- BLUE: Everybody shut up! Impact in 15 seconds. Turning to 322.142 FINCH: Climbing sharp. BLUE:
And now...322.89 GRIMM: [ALARM sounds in suit comms] Huh. Incoming missile. Haven't seen that one in a while... CONTROL: *pause* ...When's that slowdown coming?! BLUE: 3, 2, 1...NOW! FINCH: Confirmed! Impact in...now! BLUE: *makes raucous explosion noises with mouth* CONTROL: Blue, what are you doing? BLUE: *pause* ...Sorry. It's just really anticlimactic when we blow things up without sound. I like to make my own. *pause* Why, is that weird? CONTROL: Grimm, report! GRIMM: I'm good. Probe dropped in a dozen meters above my head. There's no explosion. Just dust.
FINCH: Alright! Way to go, Blue! CONTROL: Ok! Ok, Grimm. Get that damn transponder out and let's find Argus and Dreadnought. GRIMM: Almost there! CONTROL: Blue, you good? BLUE: Are you kidding? I was amazing! I just hurled a missile 300 meters inside an asteroid and flipped it backwards in a crevasse just a few feet wider than the missile itself! CONTROL: Yeah. Yeah, that's pretty good? BLUE: You have no appreciation for art, you philistine! FINCH: How about that, Grimm? GRIMM: No! I told you: it'll be the stuff legends are made of! CONTROL: What are you two talking about? GRIMM: Nothing. I'm opening the panel on the missile.
BLUE: How's the transponder look? GRIMM: Well if I can get through the 29 meters of foam you packed it in, I'll tell you. BLUE: Just trying to keep it safe. FINCH: 100 bucks says it's broken. BLUE: No way. I packed it. Besides when did you become the pessimist? GRIMM: Pulled it! FINCH: Since you owed me 100 bucks. If you win, debt's off. But I could come out with $200. BLUE: And a lot more stress when we lose Argus and Dreadnought. But sure. Bet's on. FINCH: Excellent! GRIMM: I have it set up, if you two are done. CONTROL: Ignore them. Go.
GRIMM: It's on. CONTROL: Finch? FINCH: Blue? Blue: *pause* [console BEEPs] Ha! It worked, Grimm! You have yourself a transponder. Tuning it to our ops freq. GRIMM: Cool. Are my silky smooth tones coming through? CONTROL: Loud and clear, Grimm! It's about time something went right again... GRIMM: [CRASH sounds] Damn! CONTROL: What? GRIMM: Something's happening with the debris. There's more flying out from the...DAMMIT! [loud THUDs and CRUNCHes sound over GRIMM's radio] CONTROL: [exosuit danger ALARM sounds]
Grimm? What the hell is going on?? BLUE: I just lost the transponder! CONTROL: Grimm! GRIMM: I'm trying to get out of this damn...rocks are coming from everywhere! Can't see a--! CONTROL: Grimm, turn your camera back on! We need to see what's going on! GRIMM: [a loud CRACK sounds] What?? Oh gods. My helmet! Dammit my helmet! [hissing air] END
