So, a while back, a friend commissioned me to write the script for a sci-fi min-series. The vague premise left me room to experiment with the story so I wrote a few sample scenes, about one page per concept. I’m going to spend today sharing those scenes. Feel free to comment, as always!
A politician is recruited by a shadow society (which he may or may not be aware of) to operate a mecha in what is supposed to be a training drill. The militants stationed at the base (on another planet) shoot to kill, fully aware of the mecha pilot’s identity. it begs the question… who set him up for this and why did they target him?
*Inside the mecha*
Senator Jacobs: The lever on the left engages the throttle?
General Titus (Intercom): Yes, Sir. The right controls three-dimensional movement.
Jacobs: Well then… what do you need all these keyboards and levers and screens for?
Titus: Those control columns only control basic movements. With practice, some of the soldiers figured out how to emulate a punch. The weaponry, cameras, and fine motor control are all accessed and utilized through the input console.
Jacobs: So… the triggers don’t fire anything?
Titus, clearly irritated: You don’t need to learn everything. This is just a virtual drill for the new recruits. The MECHA isn’t even armed.
Jacobs: Yeah, yeah. Just go out there, fly around, and get a shit-ton of publicity. You need to relax, General. Come by my manor sometime and we’ll–
*applause can be heard from the outside*
Titus: Well now, they aren’t cheering for me. Get going, Senator!
*Jacobs pilots the MECHA with relative ease out in front of the trainees. To his surprise, there are no media personnel. In fact, the whole scene strikes him as an execution.*
Jacobs demands: What is this?
Titus, whose hand is being forced: I’m sorry, Senator.
*A few mortar rounds are shot off*
Jacobs: Damn you, Titus! *take a short beat* Okay, throttle to the top… press the trigger on the thruster and pull back on the other to engage vertical thrust.
*He pilots the MECHA straight up, out into space from the base, eventually landing near a satellite*
Jacobs (On personal line): Whitman, where in this solar system could a senator hide from the military, if he were so inclined?
Whitman: If one were so inclined, Sir, there is a decommissioned military station in sector 7.
Jacobs: Assemble my staff there. Do it quietly.
Whitman: Yes, Sir. Is everything alright, Sir?
*Whitman says nothing, pondering his next move.*