âWherefore art thou, Captain Anaantia?â
âYouâll like this one then. Itâs about a grief mad ship which abducts an unremarkable miner pilot thinking sheâs its long-dead captain. Hilarious, yet heart-tugging misunderstandings ensue.â
Episode Four: The Gerentate Menace!
Scene: Mercy of Amaat, Lieutenantâs mess hall.
ARIAT SESK is sat at a table, attended by AMAAT ONE.
ARIAT: Iâve told you time and time again, you delusional heap of junk! Iâm not your captain!
AMAAT ONE: Really, Captain, you mustnât say such things. If only Lieutenant Tam would wake up, she could examine you. You really must discipline her.
ARIAT: Your Lieutenant is a mummified corpse!
AMAAT ONE: Her implants are still reporting normal vital signs.
ARIAT: Her implants are in a bucket!
AMAAT ONE: Please, Captain, just calm down and drink some tea. The Presger ships have stopped pursuing us.
AMAAT ONE hands ARIAT a bowl of tea. ARIAT takes it, grimacing.
ARIAT: (muttering) Those were asteroids.
ARIAT: Look, what do I have to do to convince you?
AMAAT ONE: Begging your very great indulgence, Captain, but you canât convince me of something thatâs patently untrue.
ARIAT: (sighs) Look, at the very least we need to take on a new Lieutenant, yes? Even if Lieutenant Tamâs implants report that sheâs in good health, Iâm not comfortable with her having slept for⌠How long is it, Ship?
AMAAT ONE: Four hundred and three years, six months, fourteen days.
ARIAT: That doesnât strike you as at all unusual?
AMAAT ONE: It is contrary to regulations. She has missed one hundred and forty-seven thousand, two hundred and eighty-nine shifts.
ARIAT: I would like her examined by another trained medic. So we must put in at a palace station. Which is nearest, Ship?
AMAAT ONE: Tstur palace is two weeks and one day distant.
AMAAT ONE: Very good, Captain.
Cut to: Mercy of Amaat, Bridge
ARIAT SESK is in the Captainâs chair, attended by AMAAT ONE.
ARIAT: Whatâs that over there? Magnify.
The view-screen shows a Sword. Zoom in to hull markings, reading Sword of Phey
ARIAT: A Sword! Amaat be praised! Ship, open a channel. I want to speak to their Captain.
The lights go dim, sirens sound.
SHIP: Captain, itâs a Gerentate Banner-ship! We wonât be able to gate unless itâs destroyed!
ARIAT: What?! No, you malfunctioning bucket of scrap, itâs Sword of Phey!
SHIP: Your eyes must be playing tricks on you, Captain. Launching missiles!
ARIAT: Vardenâs suppurating cuticles!
O Captain, my Captain, where have you fled?
I found you again, but you claimed to be dead!
Surely the battle has made you insane,
For your implants, I see, are not in your brain!
Lie down on the table, and as soon as Iâm able,
Iâll open you up and connect you to meeeâŚ
O Captain, my Captain, why do you flee?
ARIAT: (shouted, distant) Stay away from me, you psychotic trash pile!