Supernova

Benjamin.

Benjamin?

- What's wrong? - Nothing's wrong.

- Then why did you wake me? - I was running a test.

But we didn't schedule any tests.

I was running a test to perform an unscheduled test.

- What? Why? - Please. Be more specific, Benjamin.

Why did you want to wake me and perform an unscheduled test?

Wanting is a human emotion, and not within my capability.

- I know that. - Benjamin.

Can we play chess now?

Tom and Jerry: Catharsis and cathexis.

AJ Marley. Dissertation for doctorate - anthropology.

Begin recording, captain.

This animated animosity regularly served as a collective catharsis for the masses.

When violent animation was banned by statutory law

at the beginning of the 21st century,

unharnessed a human malevolence, and a reverse social polarity was...

Would you like some music before we begin, Copilot Vanzant?

- Whatever you like. - How's this, Copilot Vanzant?

Confirming identity and status.

Age: 32. Release from Hazen rehabilitation: Six months.

Pilot's license restored.

Work probation: Deep space rescue and recovery.

Reflex quotient: 1.5. Stress Limit: Minus 4.

You'll have to work on those numbers, Nick.

- Neuroscan's fine. - Good.

- What happened to your robot? - Nothing.

Really? Hope "nothing" doesn't happen to me.

The captain's big on 20th century cultural artifacts,

so we did him up as a World War One fighter pilot.

We do things like that just to amuse each other. Everyone tries to get along here.

- I get along fine. - You've been on board 12 days.

Asking about a robot's the first sign of interest you've shown in this ship or crew.

- I got a captain who watches cartoons... - He's working on his PhD.

A computer tech who calls his mainframe Sweetie

and two medical techs practicing anatomy in any corner they can find.

I've been on six paramedic tours with this crew. They get the job done.

We're out here for months. Nothing happens.

People get lonely.

Then suddenly all hell breaks loose, you do your job,

then it all goes back to nothing happens. This crew's OK.

Want to tell me what you're doing out here?

Ex-military pilots don't usually request work probation on paramedic ships.

I like deep space. It's quiet.

People out here tend to respect each other's privacy.

Take one a day. You can put your shirt on.

Zyracon, huh?

Happy pills.

I'm happy.

Hazen's a tough drug to kick.

Zyracon helps with the residual effects.

- I'm clean. - Human interaction helps too.

The crew's OK.

Maybe you should take the time to get to know them.

Thank you, doctor.

My analysis of cards played shows a 77% chance of you losing, Benjamin.

Five miles of fiber optics

sort of spoils the spirit of competition, don't you think, Sweetie?

Gin.

When I reprogrammed her for this tour,

I put some human traits into her personality profile.

I sort of wanted them to find out because it'd really piss them off.

But if they ever do,

I'm dead.

I'm assuming you're not gonna turn me in...

You don't know me well enough to make that assumption.

Your deal.

My analysis of Copilot Vanzant's vital signs suggests a very high probability

that he will turn you in, Benjamin.

I'm not gonna turn you in.

The laser pulse is focused into a surgical-quality beam

capable of the most precise incisions.

- Hello, doctor. Mind if I sit down? - What if I do?

- Following orders - get to know the crew. - So, the Zyracon worked.

I act nice and you want the credit?

You act nice, modern medicine gets the credit.

I've found staying clean is sort of like staying alive. You either are...

or you aren't. Count them. They're all there.

Since we don't bring out the pleasant side in each other,

tell me what the hell bothers you so much about me.

I don't like Hazen.

It's not just a type-H mind-altering escape.

I don't like what it does to people who take it, I don't like what they do to others.

- I used to know someone... - I'm not someone.

Didn't say you were.

There's nothing I can do to change the past, yours or mine.

Heal thyself, doctor.

Emergency distress signal received.

- We're still in business. - Nothing like being wanted.

I'll be in the engine room.

I've forgotten everything. What's my job? What do I do?

- Come on. - It's been that long.

Emergency distress signal received.

Bridge.

Check.

Medical.

Check.

What have we got?

Signal received.

SOS, critical.

The signal's degraded. It's taken five days to get here.

Dispatch misrouted it?

This isn't from dispatch. It's a direct call.

Direct? We don't get direct. Origin?

Pohl 6822.

I'm getting a little more.

Call letters for a merchant enterprise.

It's Titan 37.

It's a mining operation.

This is way past the colony outpost.

Sweetie, pull up all records on Titan 37, Pohl 6822.

Titan 37: Lunar mining operation.

This moon was expelled from orbit around its original star system

- and is now classified as a rogue body. - Rogue moon.

There's a lot of gravitational instability in that sector.

Mining operation was abandoned

when rogue moon drifted into unmapped space.

Complete crew evacuation five years, three months ago.

An SOS from an abandoned mine?

Distance to distress call location: 3,432 light years.

If we wanna answer this call in our lifetimes we'll have to jump.

We haven't jumped in three tours.

I'm not jumping this crew for anything uncertain.

I want a name with some authority.

If there is none, this is a no-go.

Scanning for identifiication.

Transmission signature: Karl James Larson.

Karl.

Karl Larson.

You know him?

Worst nightmare I ever met.

Mr vanzant, plot us a course, please.

Yes, sir.

Dimension drive fully charged.

Call it, Sweetie.

All crew, prepare for rescue operation via dimension jump.

You go on ahead.

Course?

Plotted.

Dimensional stabilization chamber now sterilizing.

- Maybe this Karl guy's just coincidence. - With Karl, nothing's coincidence.

Last time we did this I didn't shit right for a month.

You're gonna be fine.

This guy panicked during countdown and he jumped out of his DSU.

So this other guy pulls him into his with him, right?

Countdown goes off and they have to D-jump like that. I'm not kidding.

Afterwards they go to pull 'em out... and it's one guy.

14 feet long with a head on each end.

And then suddenly the heads start talking.

And both of them go, "Are we there yet?"

- That's not funny. - It's kinda funny.

It's not.

Two minutes to dimension jump activation.

One minute to dimension jump activation.

All crew, enter dimensional stabilization units at this time.

Research says D-jump is great for your sexual stamina.

- Hallelujah. - You know, you're gonna get it.

I am?

Kaela.

- I need to talk to you. - When we get there. Use mine.

- I'll use number four. Now. - Why?

No time.

- Call it musical chairs. - Be my guest.

30 seconds to dimension jump activation.

All crew, enter dimensional stabilization units at this time.

All crew, enter dimensional stabilization units at this time.

Final countdown. Ten, nine,

eight, seven, six, fiive, four,

three, two, one.

Plasma acceleration.

Oh, I had you.

I definitely had you that time.

Oh, God, no.

Don't touch anything.

His skin's fused with polyglass.

Danika. Nanoscan kit, number three laser scalpel, vascular cauteriser, stat.

He's still alive.

What's happening?

- Sweetie? - Debris strike. Fuel reservoir breached.

- Hold him still. - Benjamin. Bridge, now.

Ship has entered high-gravity field.

Severe fuel loss.

Gravity increasing.

Laser scalpel.

Cauteriser.

Status?

Controls active. Systems up.

- Prime main engine. - Severe engine damage.

Extreme fuel loss.

Christ.

Blue giant.

That's gonna be ten times the gravity of our sun.

We've jumped into a high-grav field right in the path of that moon's debris cloud.

I can't isolate these veins unless you keep this hatch shut.

Warning. Lunar impact in 57 seconds.

- Rate of descent? - 98 metres per second.

Time to impact?

49 seconds.

- Recommend alternatives? - Assessment...