Diadem S1E1: "Cold Shoulder"

The comet was nothing but a dirty snowball from a distance, but it held the promise of hydrogen—liquid currency in space. The Diadem loomed behind it, angular and vast, a cathedral of crystalline secrets. Captain Bridget Falon stood at the middle of the bridge, the lenses of her binoculars reflecting the comet's swirling icy edges. Her ship was a behemoth, but next to this celestial object, even that felt small. 

“Um. . . we’re 2.5km away now. . . did we want to start?”  stammered the shy young man at the sensor station.  Chris was a good kid, but he struggled with self confidence, often looking for confirmation on what to do.  Still, he had a college degree and passion in sensors.   

Bridget leaned over for a better look at his screen.  “Very good, Chris,”  she then accessed the intercom and made contact with the hangar bay.  “Pyo, are the drones ready?” 

“Yes Captain, on your command.” replied the muscular Mars-born man as he activated the heavy duty remote control systems.  Three large remote controlled mining ships began their power up sequence. 

Captain Bridget waited as the comet grew closer.  The intercom beeped on with a message from engineering.  Bridget opened the channel and the gravelly voice of an old man could be heard through her chair speakers.  

“Captn’, we need to back up, those ice chunks are around 50 meters across at their largest.  Plus the smaller pieces are already collecting on the Bussard intakes.  If we don't back off, they'll clog ‘em.” 

“That’s not all.”  said an electronic voice through the speakers of a high-tech wheelchair.  Bridget turned to the navigation area of the bridge where a paraplegic woman turned the wheelchair around.  "The comet's trajectory has shifted. It's arcing closer to Alpha Centauri than we expected. I calculate three weeks max before it's too unstable to mine." 

“Any suggestions?” asked Bridget as she began considering possibilities. 

“Mom, we gotta use the drive.” chimed in her daughter Annaheim from one of the other seats.  “We can jump through it with the star drive and the force will create a local-” 

“No! We will not be using any alien tech."  Snapped Bridget, cutting her daughter off before turning to Chris.  “Distance please, Chris.  Baphin, get ready for the maneuver we talked about." 

Chris hesitated as Annaheim continued. 

"But it would greatly improve our yield.  We could actually make a good profit rather than scrape the bottom of the barrel." 

Bridget didn't look at her daughter as she brought her binoculars back up to observe the comet.  "It's not up for debate. Chris, how far?" 

"Uh... 2 kilometers, and closing. The comet's accelerating slightly. Pull from the star I think. We'll match speed in twenty-four hours." 

Bridget exhaled. "Pyo, are the harpoons loaded?" 

"Aye, Captain. Just entering range." 

"Prepare to fire." She switched back to engineering. "Van, send radiator output through the Bussard intakes." 

"You planning to cook the hull?" 

"Indirect heating might defrost the intakes. Baphin, guide him." “You’re looking for sub panel B3.” responded Baphin over the intercom. “All the way back there?  Fine.” grumbled the old man. 

Within minutes, metal conduits connected to the housing of the hydrogen engine.  They began to glow as heat transferred directly through them like fiber optic cables, through the interior of the ship to the inside of the outer hull. The hull darkened as the ship absorbed the energy. Then, at 500 degrees Celsius, the hull turned 100% reflective, casting heat outward and vaporizing the ice off of the intakes. 

“Well then, looks like we’re back to full power." Van muttered. "What are you gonna do with our second wind, Captain?” 

"Pyo, fire when ready." The bridge vibrated with the release of 27 harpoons. Nine missed or snapped, but eighteen struck home, embedding in the comet’s crust. "Van, reduce our relative velocity," Bridget ordered. 

"Trying to slow that ice boulder, huh?" 

"Exactly. Pyo, launch the mining drones." 

"Harpoons will only hold for five hours," Baphin warned. "But it will give us a ten percent increase in yield." 

"Good enough." 

In the hangar, Pyo watched the massive doors open, leaving nothing but the magnetic field and blown air between him and the cold, harsh expanse of space.  The three drones beside him powered up and disembarked out the back of the ship.  “Mining drones en route.” 

The drones sailed like mechanical birds into the void, skimming comet dust as they maneuvered around the harpoon cables. Six hours passed before the drones were finally in position.. 

"Captain," came Pyo’s voice over the intercom. "Mining process initiated." 

"We need 500,000 kilograms minimum to break even," Bridget reminded everyone. 

Eight days later. Pyo's voice came through. "Automated extraction successful. Thank Baphin for her numbers." 

Bridget rubbed her eyes. "Annaheim, can you set up the turbo? We need to accelerate yield." No answer. "Baphin, where is she?" 

"She left several hours ago." 

"I'm here," Annaheim said, stepping out of the lift. 

"Where have you been? Activate the turbo, please." 

Annaheim muttered something under her breath before tapping her console. The ship jolted. A ripple of blue-white energy licked across the comet’s surface.

Baphin paled. "No. Annaheim, what did you do?" 

“What?!  You said so yourself it would allow us to take home hundreds of times more yield than normal, and you were frustrated that we couldn’t use it.” 

Bridget's jaw tightened. "Did you activate the tractorbeam compression array? The one we found last month?" 

“We could be doing so much more, but we’re here mining like a tiny amount of what this ship can hold.  I'm saving the mission.” 

Chris whimpered. "The comet is... shrinking." 

"That can't be right," Bridget looked to Baphin for clarification. 

"He's right. It's shrinking." 

Chris's screen beeped. "Alpha Centauri... we're deeper in its gravity well than we thought. We'll be in the melt zone in five minutes." 

Bridget clenched her fists. "Annaheim. You-" 

"This isn't a bad thing! We can store the whole comet now!" 

"I want you to get off my bridge." 

"What? Are you serious?" 

"Now! We'll talk later." 

Annaheim stormed out. 

Bridget took a long breath. "Baphin?" 

"The device compressed the comet using the tractorbeam's quantum field. It's stable... for now. We can move it to the cargo bay, but we can't mine it while compressed or it will explode." 

"Then let’s store it and get out of here. Pyo?" 

"I assumed it would have to go in one of the special containers.  Mining drones will be back soon as well.  We lost all our harpoons in that jerk of the ship when the uh. . . shrink ray activated.” 

Baphin scowled.  "It's not a shrink ray.  It's a quantum compression. . . yeah sure, it's a shrink ray." 

"Secure the comet and bring the drones in fast, Pyo." 

A minute later, Chris panicked. "We’re in the melting zone!" 

“Everything’s getting hot in here, Captain.” came Van’s voice. “The hydrogen engine isn't designed to handle the advanced tech." 

"Comet secured!" Pyo confirmed. 

"Baphin, shut it down. Now." 

As the field dropped, the heat clawed at them. "Engines full!" Bridget shouted. 

“Quit yer shoutin at me!  I just told ya we are overheatin.  We need a cooldown, but by then the conduction rods’ll be fried.”  snapped Van frustratedly. 

“Sorry, sorry, let me think.” 

“Well think quick, I ain’t plannin on goin to Grace today.” 

Chris’s breath hitched, “We’re all going to die.” 

“Shut up!  We’re not dying.”  snapped Bridget before an idea came to her.  

“Can we radiate heat out just the back?” 

“Yes?”  Baphin turned to look at the Captain. 

“And maybe open the side radiators as well?  Just expel as much heat backwards as possible?” 

“It would get very cold in here.” 

“I know!  I know, can it be done?” 

Baphin nodded. "But it won’t give us enough thrust to escape." 

"Not unless we slingshot. Angle the ship for orbital momentum." 

"Van, panel B3, left switches only," Baphin instructed. 

Grumbling, Van obeyed. "It's elder abuse to make me find this panel again." 

The ship turned side-on to the star. The rear turned reflective as the front went matte black.  

"Still not enough push." groaned Van. 

Bridget's eyes lit up. "Pyo, launch the comet." 

"Now?" 

"Now. Everyone, brace!" 

The comet launched and immediately expanded, the resulting shockwave slamming into the Diadem, jolting it forward. The engines surged explosively as the Diadem slung around the star. Bridget’s hands clenched the arms of her chair. She dared not pray, but something in her chest curled into a knot as the comet expanded and the ship screamed beneath her. It was a brutal, elegant maneuver. 

One rotation took a good 6 hours of sleepless anxiety, the next took 12 as the temperature inside the ship began to drop.  Another 24 hours later and it had become so cold that all the ship’s crew were wearing heavy fur coats.   

“E-e-exiting the s-s-s-star’s gravit-t-tational p-pu-pull now.”  shivered Chris as he held his heavy fur coat close.  

Baphin’s chair kept her warm with its own built-in heating system. 

"Van, t-turn off the rad-radiators. Warm us up," Bridget said, her breath misting. 

"What, cold already?" Van grumbled. 

The heat came back slowly, thawing the consoles, the condensation running down like sweat on glass as the life support kicked in.

Bridget blew the frozen snot from her nose before getting up and shaking the frost off of her coat.  She then checked on Baphin and Chris to make sure they were ok before getting on the intercom again.  “Pyo, how are you holding up?”

“I’m fine, Captain.”  came Pyo’s voice over the speaker, as calm and collected as ever.

“Um. . . “  Chris had turned pale.  “Captain. . . ?”

Noticing, Bridget hurried over to the sensor station. “What’s wrong Chris?”

Chris shakily pointed to a new contact on the long range sensors; a military cruiser from the Terran Federal Union.  “They j-just jumped into orbit around. . . . the star.” Bridget’s eyes widened.  Baphin immediately hit the emergency shut down.  In the engine room, Van scowled as the ship powered down.  “Not again.” he groaned.  Pyo silently furrowed his brow as the sound of the engine faded.  The lights flickered as the military ship began scanning them.  Bridget quickly turned to Baphin.  “Please tell me they didn’t see-”

Before she could finish, the console screens went static before the Captain of the cruiser could be seen wearing a crisp and clean uniform.  “Merchant vessel, Diadem, this is Captain Theron of the T.F.U.S. Faraday.  Alpha Centauri has been designated as a no fly zone due to a classified military operation.  State your business, and prepare for boarding and inspection.”

Bridget and Baphin exchanged glances before Baphin began doing research on recent no fly zones.  When none showed up, Bridget and Baphin shared another glance.  There was nothing they could do against the authority of a T.F.U. captain.  His voice came over the speakers again, more impatient this time.  “Captain Falon, is it?  We’ve run your registration and see no reason to escalate this interaction unless you give us one.  Respond.”

A shiver went down Bridget’s spine.  She hated how personal the military ship Captains were.  She opened the channel and responded.  “My apologies Captain.  We are peaceful free lance traders.  We don’t want any trouble.  We will await your boarding party.”

“We appreciate your cooperation.  We’re sending a shuttle craft now.  Our sensors show that your ship is a decommissioned Lumio cruiser, please verify with the boarding party that all advanced technology is deactivated and disassembled please.”

“Of course.”  Bridget ended communications and the image of Captain Theron disappeared from the screens.  She gave a look at Baphin before heading to the airlock to greet their guests.  “Van, I’m gonna need you to do the thing.”

“Ah, yes, the thing.  On it.”

30 minutes later, the shuttle sporting the white flower of the Terran Federal Union, docked at the airlock of the Diadem.  Bridget swallowed her nerves as the doors opened and 24 armed marines exited the craft.  They were followed by a first lieutenant with a scar on the left side of his mouth and an eye patch over his left eye.  He had a wary disposition as he glanced quickly around the room.  Then his hazel eyes landed on Bridget, scoping out her worn Captain’s uniform.  His expression changed to one of charm and charisma.  “Greetings I am Lieutenant Nork.  You say you are free lance are you not?”  

Bridget nodded.  “Uh, won’t you come in?  Where would you like to start your inspection?”

“Oh Captain, don’t be worried.  When these ships were donated by the Lumio Elegancy to the human civilizations, they heavily deactivated everything.  I doubt we’ll find anything that you could get in trouble for.  But rest assured that if we do, we will compensate you for the confiscation of your ship and take you to the nearest shipyard so that you may replace your means of transportation.”  His reassuring tone was in contrast to his unnerving appearance, but he seemed genuine.  “Let’s start with where the old tractor beam would have been, shall we?”

Bridget resisted the urge to swallow again, heading in that direction.  “Of course.”

She took the party of soldiers and the lieutenant through the ship, introducing them to each of her crew.  Her daughter crossed her arms and didn’t say hello as usual, Baphin just blinked at the soldiers, not being able to do much else, Chris nearly had a panic attack but managed to keep it under control, Pyo stood silently, giving a curt nod of acknowledgement to the soldiers, and Van gave them his characteristic, disinterested old man grunt.  

Throughout the inspection, Lieutenant Nork was very polite and congenial.  Bridget almost began to feel like she could trust him, but she knew that would be a trap.  These inspection officers were experts at getting people to put their guard down.  Still there was something curious about him. “And here we have the area where we put most of our storage.  This is where they said the tractorbeam used to be.”  She motioned to the wall of boxes behind her. 

“Forgive me, Captain Falon, this is the least nice part of the inspection that I am required to perform.  I’m afraid my men will have to go through some of those boxes to make sure they aren’t hiding anything.”

“Forgive me, but I don’t think a tractorbeam is going to fit in those boxes.”

“Excuse me?  Oh I see the confusion.  No ma’am I mean behind the boxes.”

“Oh.  Of course.”

With a snap of his fingers, Lieutenant Nork gave his men the order and they began forcibly tearing boxes down as fast as they could.  The Lieutenant watched with a look of distaste at the mess being made.  Bridget wasn’t too happy about it either, but she knew there was nothing she could say.  The soldiers pulled down piles of boxes only to reveal more piles of boxes.  Finally, the Lieutenant signalled them to stop.  He shook his head at the mess and spoke apologetically.  “I really do dislike making a mess of people’s homes like this.  I assure you, it is necessary.  We’re not even allowed to help clean up our mess afterwards.  It’s frustrating.”

“Well, it’s not like I can do anything about it.”

“Oh on the contrary ma’am, you can protest.  The military likes to look scary but we’re not all as tough or mean as we appear.”  He indicated the scar on his mouth.  “Most people assume the worst of me when they see this.  But the real reason I got it is actually quite funny.  You see it all began. . . “  He realized he was rambling and cleared his throat.  “Shall we go to the weapons areas next please?”

The inspection continued for another nerve wracking 3 hours as the lieutenant and his inspection team searched everywhere that advanced Lumio technology would be expected to be found on the ship.  “And finally, Captain Falon, would you be so gracious as to show us to your engine room?”

Bridget couldn’t hold back a glimmer of fear, but she continued on, hiding it as best she could.  “Sure, right this way.”

Upon entering the engine room, they were all greeted with the sight of a massive hydrogen engine.  Despite its size, there was still a lot of empty space.  The Lieutenant and his men glanced around for a moment, as Bridget tried not to show her mounting anxiety.  A ripple of blue shimmer briefly rolled over the hydrogen engine casing. Bridget’s heart skipped. One of the soldiers paused, staring straight at it.  Lieutenant Nork noticed.  “Sergeant Wallers?” Bridget wracked her brain for an explanation.  “Is something wrong?” The Sergeant whispered to the Lieutenant who turned to Bridget.  “My sergeant here thinks you might be hiding something.  You don’t have a cloaking device hiding something in this engine room do you?”  His smile seemed like it was no longer reaching his good eye. “I um. . .” Van spoke up, having walked in and begun checking the status of the hydrogen engine from one of the control areas.  “It’s shielding.  We operate at higher pressures so we can run this massive ship.  Can’t be too careful.” Nork’s one good eye went from Van, back to Bridget who nodded.  Seeming satisfied, his smile returned to his eye. “Well, Captain, I am pleased to inform you that everything looks well and in order.  Please forgive us for the mess and do not let this event cast a shadow on your day.  If you could show us back to the airlock please.”

Bridget felt relieved.  “Right this way.”  She mouthed her thank you to Van as they exited the engine room.

Soon the shuttle undocked and headed back towards the igneous class cruiser, which had already turned around to open its rear hangar bay.  Bridget watched through a porthole window as the cruiser waited for their ship to begin leaving the area.  As soon as Baphin got the Diadem underway, the Faraday jumped off into the dark expanse of space.  

Only then did Bridget let herself breathe normally as she turned on the intercom.  “Ok, the coast is clear.”  

The lights flickered as the hydrogen engine disappeared, decloaking to reveal a massive star drive of Lumio manufacturing, the caged and miniaturized white dwarf dim and dormant.  The advanced tractorbeam decloaked, having been moved from its normal location, and the singularity reactor decloaked, revealing itself to be intact although deactivated.  The engines glowed celestial blue as the ship began heading out of the area.

Bridget made her way to her daughter’s room. She knocked on the door, hoping for an answer. “Annaheim?” Nothing. “Are you really giving me the silent treatment?” She waited for a response. When none came, she sighed in frustration. “Fine. If you wanna play the cold shoulder, then you do that.” Having said the last word, she waited, her hand still on the doorframe, unsure whether she was angry. . . or scared she was losing her daughter.  Bridget headed for the mess hall, shaking her head. Perhaps Annaheim would be more talkative at dinner?

From the mess hall came the sounds of utensils clinking on dishes as they waded through Chris’s homemade baby carrot stew. The smell of it wasn’t the best, but it tasted good enough that the others didn’t mind; Baphin and Pyo wore tape over their noses. Chris didn’t mind either. He was just happy to please them, feeling validation in their praise of how good his stew tasted as he picked up the leftovers and put them away. Bridget looked at her daughter’s empty chair at the table, motherly concern warring with frustration in her daughter’s seemingly disrespectful shunning of her. “What’s gotten into that girl? She’s been shut up in her room for hours.” Baphin looked up from her food, the mechanical arm of her wheelchair holding a spoonful of stew steady in front of her. “Well, I don’t presume to be a parent, let alone a better one than you, but I think she might be upset with you about something.” “If this is about what happened earlier today, you can’t possibly fault me for how I acted. Her actions nearly got us arrested.” “Obviously. I’m not condoning her actions. I’m just saying—” “That I’m a bad parent for how I handled it? A bad captain? Might I remind you, such a comment could be considered mutiny.” Baphin’s brows furrowed. “First of all, that was rude to cut me off. We’ve been friends a long time, and I’ve never done that to you. Second, I never said you were a bad captain or parent. You assumed that. And third, you should know better than to think I would commit mutiny. This isn’t one of those big corporate trade vessels. This is our home.  We're your family. Pardon me if I think you should stop treating it like a corporate profession and more like a family business—with mutual respect.” Chris had been staring from the kitchen with wide eyes. Now he watched Bridget, almost flinching at the anger he expected to erupt. But Bridget just shook her head and sighed. “Good grief, could this month get any worse? We lost an entire comet’s worth of profit, narrowly escaped getting arrested, and now one of the closest people to me is telling me how to raise my daughter.” Baphin blinked. “I never said—” “And a family business? What kind of idea is that? We’re not family. Not all of us. You, me, and Annaheim are the only ones who could even consider each other family.” There was a clank and clatter as Vanderson purposefully dropped his utensils into his bowl. The room went quiet as he slowly turned and stared hard at Bridget.  The clink of Chris's ladle scraping the pot was the only sound, until even that stopped.

Chris didn't gasp or anything as he just stared. Pyo stopped eating and slowly closed his eyes, letting his head drop. Baphin blinked in shock before placing her spoonful of stew back in her bowl and leaving the dinner table. Chris and Pyo followed silently. Bridget watched them go, confused.

“Where is everyone going?”

No one answered. The mess hall door closed behind them, leaving Bridget alone with Vanderson Ditch. The old man took one last bite of his stew and wiped his mouth. Bridget stood up to leave, but Van’s gravelly voice stopped her.

“Sit down, Captain. Let’s talk.”

“What? You don’t like how I captain my ship?”

“Okay, first of all, lose that tough-girl attitude with me. Ya ain't got nothin to prove here.  Second, ya better sit down and listen, cause I ain't never speakin to you again if ya don't.”

Taken aback, Bridget reluctantly sat.

Van pulled six carrots from his stew and placed them on the table. “This is us. Notice something about these carrots?”

“They’re on the table and not in the stew where they’re supposed to be.”

Van rolled his eyes. “They’re all different. In the stew, you don’t see the differences—so you treat all the carrots the same. But when you take them out, you notice: a crease here, a bend there, different thicknesses. Differences that matter.”

“Ditch, I’m a little old for children’s lessons.”

“Yeah? You’re a big girl now? You think fifteen years of spacefaring makes you a master of running a crew?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“Now you know how Baphin felt.”

Bridget narrowed her eyes, then her expression softened. “Oh...”  She hung her head in shame.

Van nodded slowly. “There. Now you get it. You’ve been treating the carrots like they’re still in the stew, suppressing what makes each of ‘em special. Stop lookin’ at your friends like crew and start lookin’ at ‘em like people. Like family. And even if you don’t see me that way, I’ll always look out for ya like you’re my own daughter. Because... well, you’re the only thing close to family I got left.”

Bridget looked up to see tears welling in the old man’s eyes. “Oh Ditch, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean—”

“I know. Just... if you ever say something like that again, make sure you mean it first.” He sipped the last of his stew and ate the six carrots off the table. “Now I think you have some apologizing to go do.”

Bridget stood and began helping Van with the dishes. “Five of them, to be exact.”

“Then what are ya still doin’ here for? Get! I can take care of the dishes.”

She placed a hand on his shoulder. “Van... I’m sorry. I should have treated you better. And I never knew you saw me like that. Can you forgive me?”

A coy, grandfatherly smile played on his face. “Maybe.”