NIVEN: “Still in one piece.”

BAXTER: “Let’s not do that again.”

CLARKE: “Sure. Not for another…” (looks at the clock) “Thirty-two minutes.”

An irritated Baxter shifts uncomfortably. She wants answers.

BAXTER: “Guys, seriously. Why am I here?”

Clarke turns toward Baxter for a formal introduction.

CLARKE: “Engineer Baxter, I’m Commander Darcy Clarke of the Colony One Air Group. The Captain woke you because you’re the leading member of the shield team.”

BAXTER: “‘Leading member’? I designed it.”

NIVEN (Sensing Tension): “Unfortunately, it’s not working.”

BAXTER: “What the hell’s wrong with it?”

Instead of explaining, Clarke gets down to business.

CLARKE: “Omni, please reconfigure Baxter while I contact Colony One.”

OMNI: “Reconfiguring now.”

Baxter’s seat slides backward as Clarke presses buttons, reestablishing radio contact with the mothership.

CLARKE (O.S.): “Colony One, AeroFox Two. Ready for mission briefing.”

Over the speakers, Colony One’s female COMM OFFICER responds.

COMM OFFICER: (COMM VOICE) “We copy AeroFox Two. Connecting you to the Captain.”

Baxter realizes the gravity of speaking with her commanding officer in her current condition.

BAXTER (to Clarke): “Hey, where’s that AutoBrew you mentioned?”

BAXTER: “You want me talkin’ to the boss, gonna need some coffee.”

A frustrated Clarke presses a button; her seat moves away from its console.

A steadily-awakening Baxter aligns with a screen above the science station as it reveals Captain Bova.

BOVA: (ON SCREEN) “Ms. Baxter. It’s Captain Isaac Bova. It’s been fifty years. I hope I’m still as dashing as you remember…”

BAXTER: “Good to see you, sir. You don’t look a day over thirty-five.”

[EXTERIOR SHOT OF COLONY ONE]

On Colony One, Bova smiles and laughs.

BOVA: “But, hell… It’s not the years, it’s the kilometers.”

BAXTER (ON SCREEN): “Well, I wouldn’t complain much. You’ve only logged forty trillion.”

BOVA: “Yes. Something like that.”

On the AeroFox, a floating Clarke activates the ship’s FOOD STATION. She retrieves an AutoBrew and fills it with water.

BOVA (ON SCREEN): “Ms. Baxter, you should rest, so I’ll cut to the chase. There’s a problem on Proxima B and I need
your help.”

BAXTER (coughing): “Call me Tanya…”

Niven observes the briefing on his station as well.

BOVA: (ON SCREEN) “Alright, Tanya…”

On-screen, Bova taps a button. An animation replaces him.

BOVA: (VOICE ONLY) “The issue is with your shield.”

BOVA: (VOICE ONLY) “The towers we launched from Earth prior to our departure made it to the planet successfully.”

A series of automated craft travel from Earth to Proxima Centauri.

BOVA: (VOICE ONLY) “All were operational after landing.”

The crafts land at various spots on a gray-brown planet. The graphic shows a network of nodes spread out across the face of a brownish-auburn planet.

BOVA: (VOICE ONLY) “By now, they should be generating a low-frequency E-M field strong enough to protect the sunward face from the dwarf star’s radiation.”

[In the midst of listening, Baxter looks up to see the red dwarf star though the window.]

[Through Baxter’s window, the red glow of Proxima Centauri is seen.]

Bova reappears on the monitor.

BOVA: (ON SCREEN) “Unfortunately, they aren’t. The system is active, but a large number of nodes are nonfunctional.”

BAXTER: “I don’t understand. Any idea why?”

[In the background, Clarke moves toward Baxter.]

On Colony One, Bova becomes frustrated as he recounts the circumstances. Clearly, the stakes are high.

BOVA: “We haven’t a clue. We’ve tried for weeks, but are unable to fix it remotely. This is why I woke you.”

Back on the AeroFox, Clarke drifts up to Baxter’s side, holding a clear, pear-shaped container of dark liquid.

CLARKE: “Careful, that’s hot.”

Baxter takes it, leaning forward. She gulps it down as if she hadn’t had coffee in decades. Bova continues.

BOVA: (ON SCREEN) “It’s your design.”

[Back on Colony One, Bova speaks gravely.]

BOVA: “I need you to access the system and do whatever it takes to get that shield online.”

Back on Bova’s console screen, Baxter nods thoughtfully, attentive and serious. The transmission is staticky.

BOVA (O.S.): “I’ve got twenty thousand people up here counting on this mission.”

BOVA: (gravely) “No shield. No colony. No future.”

[Baxter is overwhelmed.]

BAXTER (ON SCREEN): “No shit.”

Bova nods and responds in kind. He’s in the trenches as well.

BOVA: “No shit, indeed. As a wise man once said…”

Aboard the AeroFox, Bova is fuzzy and harder to discern.

BOVA: (ON SCREEN) “‘Failure is not an option’.”

Baxter frowns. The situation hits her like a ton of bricks.

[In the background,] Clarke grabs handholds, making her way back to her seat.

BAXTER: (sitting back, determined) “I’ll pull myself together and see what I can do.”

Clarke straps back in and returns to her flight position.

BOVA: (ON SCREEN) (barely intelligible) “That’s the spirit. Look… We’re nearly out of range. This will be our last chat for a while. Good–”

The transmission cuts out.

Clarke checks the comm-system.

CLARKE: “That’s it… We lost him.”

Baxter leans back in her seat, finishing his sentence.

BAXTER: “Yeah. ‘Good luck’.”

Inside Colony One, the Captain’s spirit of warmth and encouragement is replaced with a cold sense of dread.

OMNI: “AeroFox Two has entered L-O-S.”

BOVA: “Understood. Thank you, Omni.”

Bova glances at a monitor showing the course of the AeroFox’s into orbit of Proxima B. Clarke weighs heavily on his soul.

BOVA: “Safe journey.”

INT – Baxter ponders the situation as Niven talks to himself.

NIVEN: “Persephone.”

Clarke overhears and rolls her eyes.

Baxter is inquisitive.

BAXTER: “What did you say?”

NIVEN: “The Captain said ‘Proxima B’. The planet’s called Persephone.”

BAXTER: “Persephone? Since when?”

CLARKE: (laughing) “Since he changed it.”

NIVEN: “It sounds better and you know it!”

CLARKE: “If you say so.”

BAXTER: “Uh, guys… I couldn’t care less. We need to get to work. Omni?”

Baxter’s seat moves back to her station..

OMNI: “I’ve pulled up the relevant data.”

BAXTER: “Good. When we’re in range, link-up with the shield computer. I want to see where Colony One left off.”

Niven scans the primary Omni interface above his station.

OMNI: “Understood. However, if remote access is unsuccessful, we may be required to land.”

Baxter frowns at the thought. Niven jumps on the idea.

NIVEN: “Good thing I packed enviro-suits.”

BAXTER: “Um… No thanks. No landing for me.” (nauseated) “Barely handling this as it is.”

CLARKE: “I get it.” (turning to Niven) “We discussed the possibility, but we only land if we have to.”

NIVEN: (bummed) “Fine. We come all this way and–“

CLARKE: (interrupting) “You’re going to spend your entire life on that planet. You’ll be down there soon enough!”

Baxter has a sudden coughing fit.

Empathetic, Niven slides his chair out of flight position and unbuckles his seatbelt.

He floats to the cockpit’s lower level and pulls a med-kit from the wall.

Opening it, he grabs a HYPODERMIC dispenser.

[Baxter is wracked by another series of coughs.]

[Niven floats back up to Baxter.]

NIVEN: “This should help with the nausea. We call it ‘Popsicle Sickness’ — a side effect of hibernation.”

He administers a shot to Baxter’s neck.

BAXTER: (incredulous) “‘Popsicle’?”

NIVEN: “What we call you colonists.”

BAXTER: “Wow. Thanks a lot…”

NIVEN: (laughing) “Sorry! We needed something to differentiate you guys from us.”

Baxter surveys Niven and Clarke with a pleasant realization.

BAXTER: “Ah… So, you’re the kids of the crew who stayed awake?”

NIVEN: “Yep. Us and thirty others.”

BAXTER: “Must have been something growing up out here.”

NIVEN: “You bet it was.”

Overhearing the chat, a wave of emotions flash across Clarke’s face as if plagued by a negative memory.

Omni suddenly pipes in with urgency.

OMNI: “Detecting an X-Class solar flare. It will arrive in ten minutes.”

A graphic on Clarke’s console indicates an approaching storm of deadly radiation.

Clarke briefly laughs and turns in Niven’s direction.

CLARKE: “Ha! Told ya’. You owe me. One month of your fruit allocation. And I’m talkin’ the real stuff… Not synthesized.” (gesturing) “Pay up.”

Niven pops the hypo onto his belt in feigned anger.

NIVEN: “Like I brought blueberries with me!”

BAXTER: “What are you guys talking about?”

CLARKE: “‘Mister Optimist’ here bet me that we could make it to the planet without a flare erupting. He lost.”

A defeated Niven drifts back to his seat.

BAXTER: “That’s nice, but what are we gonna do about it?”

CLARKE: “What do you mean?”

BAXTER: (irritated) “This ship is a lander. It doesn’t have the radiation shielding for a long-duration flight.”

NIVEN: “True. But, as always, Darcy has a plan.”

CLARKE: “Indeed, I do. Strap in.”

[Baxter steels herself.]