Perihelion Run

Script

INT. ESCORT CRAFT “ALECTO” - BRIDGE - APPROACHING PERIHELION

A wall of filtered SUNLIGHT crawls across the forward viewport like a living thing. Radiation alarms blink in disciplined silence. A PROBE ICON—“DIVE-7”—flickers on a holographic plot, its trajectory knifing toward the Sun.

IRENA SOLVIK, visor down, hands steady on a trembling console. JAX RENN hovers beside her, all nerves disguised as charm. MARSHAL TAMSIN KORR stands behind them like a drawn weapon.

KORR
Final window. If the shield sings, we abort. No heroics.

IRENA
If we abort, we stay blind. The pulses aren’t “from” the Sun— they’re riding it. I need parallax at perihelion.

JAX
And everyone back home needs a headline that doesn’t start a war.

The comm panel CRACKLES. A deckhand voice—tight, angry.

CREW (V.O.)
Bridge. Engineering refuses to push coolant to redline for a scientist’s redemption arc.

Korr doesn’t look away from the Sun.

KORR
Put them on my channel.

A beat. The voice returns, louder, emboldened by others behind it.

CREW (V.O.)
We escort. We don’t die. The Accord’s already fractured. Why burn for it?

Korr steps to the mic, calm as vacuum.

KORR
Because if someone else learns to aim that pulse first, you won’t get to vote on dying. You’ll just do it.

Silence—then the low, simmering sound of dissent.

JAX
(under his breath)
That’s not a speech. That’s a threat.

KORR
It’s a forecast.

Irena’s screen pings: SHIELD INTEGRITY 72%… 71…

IRENA
DIVE-7 is in range. Uploading harmonic discriminators.

Jax watches the probe icon plunge.

JAX
Tell me this ends with “natural phenomenon” and not “ancient weapon.”

IRENA
I’m not built for comforting lies.

Behind them, in the bridge shadows, FATHER-ENGINEER OTHO MIRE moves quietly, fingers ghosting over a secondary console. A MONASTIC SEAL flashes and vanishes—AUTHORIZED OVERRIDE.

OTHO
(soft, almost prayer)
May the Sun forgive our questions.

KORR
Father, why are you on my bridge?

OTHO
To witness. To serve.

He doesn’t meet her eyes. On his