[“The Confession of Boma Kuro, 143” went from script to final edit, but it was never broadcast for various political reasons. The series has been lauded as the “finest culmination of Hjalti’s nonsense in the Tamriels,” and won the IGSTAST in -E---. Despite harsh criticism from other quarters, “TCI” was otherwise a darling among its audience both at home and in the armchair critiques of the Summerside liberal blogosphere, “full of daring attempts to encapsulate the Septim Empires in an intelligent and titillating serial format”. It was also noteworthy that Emp Zed, the most famous of Imperial Successors of the Second Interregnum was part of the show’s eponymous rebellion. Perhaps even the show creators could not bring themselves to vilify his character or his place in Tamrielic folklore, and so cast him against the Talos Tapestry as a troubled hero.
[This missing episode can be found in the Boxed Set of “TransCyrod: Insurgency, the Complete Series” in both the Imperial and certain Aldmeri Markets. Here in Skyrim, its sole resurrection is accomplished only by hazarding such cornerclubs as The Echopage or /c/hrysalis. Avoid Wolf-Deer’s at the time of this publication; that place is run rampant with specsec spores from the Thalmor’s “Silicate Syndicate”.]
TRANSCYROD: INSURGENCY
“THE CONFESSION OF BOMA KURO, 143”
FADE IN:
EXT. CANOPY – ABOVE CYRODIIL THOUGHTFORM
Cyrodiil is a pale thoughtform from above, its surface craggy and uneven, with a few dark paved streets visible through the canopy of buildings. The Rumare surrounds it on all sides, orange with silt.
BOMA KURO (V.O.)
If you want to know what happened, you will listen to how I tell it. I will give my father that much honor, at least.
EXT. CYRODIIL THOUGHTFORM PARISH OF WGTONE MORNING
The Imperial Parish of WGTOne is situated near a wide bend of the Rumere, its water at low tide. Reeds and scrub brush are the only vegetation on this desolate part of the city. The neighborhood itself is highwalled and divided into quarters: Riverside, the Governor’s Quarter, the Marketplace, and the Weirgate. The city walls are marked with the Empire’s insignias and defended by turreted candle towers. Imperial Legion soldiers walk along the walls, keeping a watch for any sign of nomad war parties. The city is covered in a smoky haze.
The Governor’s Quarter is the most industrial section of WGTOne. Its wide courtyards are full of cargo haulers and factory warehouses. Multiple pathways lead to the giant, belching smokestacks of a Sugar Plant.
BOMA KURO (V.O. CONT’D)
WGTOne in the morning is a smoky affair, with the Sugar Plant and the nomads outside the city in an uneasy peace, their reed fires everywhere.
Outside the city are numerous nomad camps. The nomads, the Kothringi, are oldhumans, wiry and mostly naked, shoulder straps hanging with feathers and animal skins. Nearly all of them carry spears or long, curved knives. A few carry handcandles, but awkwardly. The Kothringi encampments are tents made from Coutal hides, the same camellike animals the nomads use for transportation, milk, and meat. The nomads wash themselves in the river, roughhouse on the banks, yell obscenities at the Legionnaires on the city walls, and cook their meals on large, reedfed bonfires.
EXT. WGTONE MARKETPLACE MORNING
The Marketplace is a wide bazaar, filled with cafes, merchant stands, and a line of specialty shops. Most of the tradesmen shops are the bottom levels of tiered apartment buildings. Many of the people that move through this section are colonists, though Imperial officials and foreign emissaries can be seen among them. Even a few Kothringi are bargaining with merchants, meat and hides for baubles and glow rods, but these nomads are dressed up for it, and it is obvious that they are wary around the Cyrodil.
One of the Kothringi looks up at the smoke of the faraway Sugar Plant and spits into his hand, holding it up towards the smoke and muttering a curse.
PAN to the Kuro Woodshop, a tall but humble shop near the city walls. Its top apartment has windows that look over the walls and towards the impenetrable jungle to the east.
BOMA KURO (V.O. CONT’D)
From my apartment I can see past the walls into the black cloud of their presence. Behind all that smoke are the indistinct yurts and hornedskull posts of the Kothringi nomads, meant to ward off the indecencies of the city.
INT. KURO WOODSHOP TOP APARTMENT MORNING
BOMA KURO, a melancholy youth, wellbred but with the body of a factory worker, looks outside his apartment window to the city walls and the nomad camps beyond. His breath shows in the morning chill.
Three Kothringi braves on Coutals come out from the plains and yell at the Imperial Legionnaires that patrol the guard towers.
BOMA KURO (V.O. CONT’D)
Three Kothringi braves materialize to mock the Imperial soldiers stationed on the wall. They sit their Coutals, naked despite the cold, and one holds up a swamp tortoise pelt. It is an obvious and captured magic to them, shaken for effect. When a Imperial Legionnaire stares too long, the braves laugh and stamp away, their good deed done and over.
The nomads kick their Coutals and vanish, the brave with the swamp tortoise pelt waving it above them. The Legionnaire shakes his head and moves on.
BOMA KURO (V.O. CONT’D)
I will never understand the children of Kothringi. I will never come to love this city, Cyrodiil. WGTOne is a filthy fate, though my father, son of a Bravilian woodcutter, does not share my discomfort.
Boma Kuro makes his way to a stairwell and descends into a windowed kitchen.
His father, LEB KURO, a large, quiet man, looks over a reed flute while he enjoys his meager breakfast: hot tea and a scone.
BOMA KURO (V.O. CONT’D)
At least, he says, we were not sent to a colonial farm near the true roam of the nomads, and we are making real money.
Boma takes a seat at the table.
BOMA KURO
(subtitled)
Good morning, Father. Chilly again.
LEB KURO
Quit moping, Boma. Go to work. And speak in Cyrodilic, even in this house.
Boma sighs and takes a bite of his own scone. He looks around at their apartment.
BOMA KURO (V.O.)
Our accommodations are not bad, this much is true, and from the topmost windows we can almost forget the squalor below. Fortune and weight of name afforded us this highangled view.
Boma gets up and takes his factory uniform off a beautiful wooden coat rack. He stares into the city again. He zips himself in the uniform, his name and number on the breast in Tamrielic script, and an Imperial diamond insignia on the back.
BOMA KURO (V.O. CONT’D)
It is good that our gifts, a set of lacquered end tables and a carven stand for books, reached the Regional Governor before we did. Only by his leave did we escape an exile near Riverside, where even the noblemen smell like fish.
Boma puts his work belt on and starts for another stairwell. Leb Kuro looks at his son and frowns.
LEB KURO
(subtitled)
Times have been better, but we are not women.
BOMA KURO
I don’t even know what that means.
(pointing out a window)
You sent me to the University, for this?
LEB KURO
You work your way up in this Empire, Boma. I work hard to get us to this parish. You work hard at the factory, maybe the Governor send you to San ‘Tesha, or Remanside, or the Gardens. Somewhere like that.
Boma manages a smile for his father and exits.
BOMA KURO (V.O.)
I tell you all of this because I want you to know how my father felt about the Empire. And, because of my father, despite my restlessness and moaning, I feel the same way.
EXT. WGTONE GOVERNOR’S QUARTER SUGAR PLANT DAY
Boma hefts blocks of unrefined wasabi into a cargo hauler. Behind him a throng of workers are moving into the main hold of the Sugar Plant. Another colonist is helping Boma, and soon the cargo hauler is loaded. They jump on the back of it as it takes off toward the Weirgate.
Boma watches the Imperial Officials eating on the outside deck of the Plant Commissary. He watches the Bummerclass Imperial Shuttles drop down from the sky to the Weirgate. He watches a Kothringi nomad child throw something at a Khajiiti trader and then run down a steaming alleyway, where other nomad kids wait laughing.
BOMA KURO (V.O. CONT’D)
The Governor tolerates the nomads, but not only because he fears them. I have heard that he fancies himself a hunter, and has been seen traveling with their war parties out in the jungles beyond the scrub plains. Protected, of course, but there with the Kothringi, hunting after glass chupacabras or imported Gilas. The Governor admires something about the nomads. Perhaps he admires them because that they hate him so much.
EXT. WGTONE WEIRGATE – DAY
Boma begins to unload the wasabi into the crates standing near the Imperial Shuttle loading ramps. He stops when he sees the Governor near a hangar bay. The Governor sees him, too, and waves.
BOMA KURO (V.O. CONT’D)
I can tell the Governor likes me and my father. He is one of the few Imperials that actually visits our woodshop in the market. He buys the most expensive things we have for sale. The rest of the Imperials prefer their modular, prefabricated furnishings, Hist interiors that defy anything associated with art or nature. Understand, that is not meant to be a disparaging remark.
Boma stands still when he sees what is in the hangar behind the Governor: a crowd of Kothringi, huddled behind a pyloncornered energy screen. Most of them look like they are starving to death.
Suddenly one of the nomads spots the Governor and rushes the energy screen, SCREAMING as he passes through it, falling to the ground, his skin on fire. Nevertheless, the Kothringi gets up and runs for the Governor again. A Legionnaire opens fire on the nomad, killing him with a single handcandle shot in the back.
BOMA KURO (V.O. CONT’D)
One time the Governor offered me a place in his Militias, but Father insisted that I aim higher. Seeing that life now, I am glad he had his way.
The WGTONE CARGO CAPTAIN comes up to Boma and shoves him.
WGTONE CARGO CAPTAIN
143, you got a Shuttle to load. Watch your schedule, not the natives.
BOMA KURO (V.O.)
Still, I ask myself, how can I reach the Governor if I do not join his Legions?
EXT. WGTONE MARKET PLACE LATE AFTERNOON
Boma buys a loaf of bread from a merchant stand and moves past a café. In the distance is his father’s woodshop.
BOMA KURO (V.O. CONT’D)
At first, I am just happy to see some new faces.
Sitting at a café table are Perrif, in civilian garb, and her sometimeshusband Emp Zed. They take no notice of Boma.
BOMA KURO (V.O. CONT’D)
I think that they are recently arrived colonists. Maybe aetherial freighter contractors or some other kind of specialists called for by the Governor.
Zurin Arctus passes in front of Boma, HISSING at him when he gets too close. The math athlete goes over to meet some Orphan Dogs waiting by a quaint, cobbled courtyard.
Pelinal, in an Imperial uniform, waits there, beside a fountain. He is whispering into a wristmoth, and motioning to some people on the other side of the marketplace.
Boma looks over and sees some more Imperial soldiers coming Pelinal’s way.
BOMA KURO (V.O. CONT’D)
Or perhaps even reinforcements for some attack on the nomads that I am unaware of.
Boma takes another look at Perrif, now far behind him. She sees him and smiles. He smiles back, almost blushing. Pelinal is whispershouting. Boma bumps into Hjalti, who’s wearing a large gray cloak with the hood up.
HJALTI
Sorry, kid.
He lets Boma pass.
HJALTI (CONT’D)
Zed, Mede will be in orbit in ten hours. We move at daybreak.
Boma nods his own apology and moves on.
INT. KURO WOODSHOP SHOP LEVEL LATE AFTERNOON
Leb Kuro is closing down for the day. Boma goes to sit on the counter. He notices a Kothringi blade beside him, curved and jaggededged, its pommel wrapped in Coutal hide and river jewels.
BOMA KURO
(subtitled)
What is this?
LEB KURO
It is knife from the Kothringi. All they had.
BOMA KURO
(subtitled)
We don’t need to trade with them, Father.
Boma sighs and gets off the counter. He starts for the stairwell.
BOMA KURO (CONT’D)
(subtitled)
I’m going to bed. Did you see the new people?
LEB KURO
Cyrodilic. And yes. I told you this parish, it is going to grow.
DISSOLVE TO:
INT. SUGAR PLANT DAY
Boma pushes a cart along the factory floor. He passes Perrif in a worker’s outfit. She smiles at him again.
PERRIF
(whispering) Hiya. Keep your head down.
Boma stops and watches her move away towards Emp Zed, who is also in a worker’s uniform. Emp Zed speaks into his wristmoth again and then something near the back of the factory
EXPLODES.
Boma ducks down behind the cart as throatbolts start flying. Perrif and Emp Zed are firing on Imperial soldiers on the second level platforms. The plant workers panic and start running.
Pelinal rushes in with Orphan Dogs behind him. Boma waves to get his attention and then points at Perrif and Emp Zed.
BOMA KURO
They did it!
Pelinal’s Orphan Dogs open fire on the Imperial Soldiers as well. Boma becomes really confused. He looks over the top of his cart and sees more Orphan Dogs arriving from the elevators. Those start firing on Pelinal’s Orphan Dogs.
Another EXPLOSION rocks the factory. Hjalti enters, waving his arms for everyone to run. Zurin is behind him, laying down cover magic.
HJALTI
No good! Fall back!
PELINAL
What happened?
HJALTI
What else? The Queen’s briefing lacked a few details.
Pelinal and his Orphan Dogs start to retreat. Emp Zed picks off another Imperial soldier and follows them. Perrif looks over to Boma and motions for him to run. He shakes his head vehemently. Then she points up and behind him. An Imperial Orphan Dog has a handcandle aimed at him, thinking he is another Insurgent in a plant worker uniform.
A blast ERUPTS near Boma’s head, hitting the cart. Perrif fires on the Imperial Orphan Dog that caused it, giving Boma a chance to scramble out of the factory.
EXT. WGTONE MARKETPLACE DAY
Mass hysteria has taken over the marketplace. Imperials are firing on each other through the crowd. Boma heads straight for his father’s woodshop.
He sees Hjalti and Perrif running down another side of the street, dodging throatcandle bolts. Pelinal and his Orphan Dogs try to cover them but are suddenly fired on by Imperial soldiers on the city walls. Boma passes by Zurin as he lifts a handheld stickyshout thoom launcher. One of the guard towers EXPLODES.
PELINAL
(into a wristmoth) Emp Zed! Sitrep right now!
EMP ZED (V.O.)
Pinned down in Riverside, but I think we can make it to the pickup. Lost Perrif and Hjal in the shuffle.
PELINAL
(to his squad)
We’re done for the day, people. Go.
Boma’s father opens the door just as he nears it. Boma rushes inside.
INT./EXT. KURO WOODSHOP SHOP LEVEL DAY
Leb and Boma Kuro are terrified. They watch the battle outside through the windows.
BOMA KURO (V.O.)
I come to the part that is hard to explain. I do not believe in the Kothringi magic. I think I have already said that.
Outside, Perrif and Hjalti are surrounded by Imperial Orphan Dogs. They fall back, hiding behind the overhang supports of the Kuros’ woodshop. Soldiers on both flanks have them trapped. Hjalti sees Leb Kuro looking outside of the window.
HJALTI
Let us in!
BOMA KURO
(subtitled)
No, Father!
LEB KURO
(to Hjalti) Not here! You go!
An Imperial OD Battlemage fires a throatbolt that rips a hole in the door. Boma ducks, pulling on his father’s sleeve.
BOMA KURO
(subtitled)
Move away from the window, Father!
HJALTI
(calmly) You will let us in.
BOMA KURO (V.O.)
I feel it, too, a sensation right here, that place just under your name. I cannot explain it. I think perhaps this is the ‘speakwell’ Empire special forces teach in their sublinguistics training courses, but I do not know. In any case, my father opens the door.
Leb Kuro lets Perrif and Hjalti inside. Glass shatters from more throatfire. Perrif takes a few shots outside through the broken windows. Leb Kuro regains his senses and pushes his son back behind a workbench. He raises his hands toward Hjalti.
LEB KURO
You go! This is my son! You go!
HJALTI
You will show us another way out.
LEB KURO
I show you another way out.
Leb Kuro is entranced again, leading Perrif and Hjalti upstairs. A few seconds later, there is a CRASH of glass. Boma is too afraid to move. The Imperial Orphan Dogs are still shouting into the shop.
Boma’s father returns and goes over to his son, holding him. They duck behind the workbench together. Suddenly the door is SMASHED inward and Imperial boots CRUNCH on the glass. Leb Kuro rises and waves his arms.
LEB KURO
They already leave! Go!
Reflexively, a nervous Imperial soldier spins over and roars Leb Kuro through the chest. Then the rest of the squad moves in. Some run up the stairs. Others hold swords down at Boma Kuro, who has grabbed his father’s leg. He tugs on it, crying, saying something over and over again in a language they can’t understand.
BOMA KURO (V.O. CONT’D)
The Insurgency was a rumor, something that happened on maps I had never heard about. This was Cyrodiil, and what did it have to do with us?
FADE OUT.
FADE IN:
EXT. ABOVE CYRODIIL THOUGHTFORM
Two Imperial BSpires, the Atonement and the Reckoning, are firing on each other above the city. Their cuttlefish candleboats are fighting between them.
BOMA KURO (V.O. CONT’D)
To me, it seemed that there was a civil war going on within the city. But I didn’t care about that at the time.
INT. KURO WOODSHOP DAY
The Imperial Orphan Dogs are gone. Boma, still in tears, grabs the Kothringi knife and heads out of the ruined doorway.
BOMA KURO (V.O. CONT’D)
I had simpler matters in mind.
EXT. WGTONE RIVERSIDE DAY
Colonists make what repairs they can as Imperials gather up the dead. A few Kothringi nomads try to steal weapons, helmets, or drakes from the bodies of the fallen before they are spotted.
BOMA KURO (V.O. CONT’D)
I heard one of them mention Riverside. I do not see any prisoners, so I figure they have escaped. The only thing left to do is to talk to the Kothringi encamped outside the city. I know they will hate my Sugar Plant uniform, so I bring the requisite compensation.
EXT. Kothringi CAMP (BONESHAVER TRIBE) DAY
A nomad guides a reedbound skiff across the river to the western bank. Boma tries to keep his balance and his courage. A Kothringi brave spots him immediately and shouts something unintelligible, shaking a spear. The brave runs to get more nomads from the camp.
BOMA KURO (V.O. CONT’D)
These are the Boneshavers, the river tribe of the Kothringi. Unlike their jungle cousins, the Red Teats (who are also their blood rivals), they rely more on fish and sandeels than the Coutals. For Kothringi, they are also the most agreeable to the colonists.
As soon as he steps ashore a Boneshaver brave shoves Boma to the ground and starts pounding his head. Boma does not attempt to fight back or resist at all.
More braves arrive and throw rocks at the youth or spit in their hands.
BOMA KURO (V.O. CONT’D)
This is all part of the ceremony. They knew the moment I stepped onto the riverbank that I had a bag of money for them. When they are finished cleansing me of the wickedness of civilization, they will take me to their TribeMother. I can last that long.
The braves continue to beat on Boma, one taking his knife and stabbing it into the ground beside his head just before another stomps down on his face.
INT. TRIBEMOTHER YURT DAY
Boma sits crosslegged in front of the TRIBEMOTHER, an elderly, hidecovered Kothringi, her hair braided with bones and sticks, her eyes milky white. She holds her side as if a pain were bothering her. Another Kothringi Elder sits close by, to serve as a translator. Boma is scuffed up, and dried blood is caked on his head. The TribeMother offers him a drink from a wooden bowl. He politely refuses. A nomad brave comes inside the yurt and throws Boma’s knife into his lap.
BOMA KURO (V.O. CONT’D)
Evidently, I do not bring enough to trade with. They need more from me before they will show me the pickup point of the traitors.
The Kothringi Elder points to the TribeMother’s side.
BOMA KURO (V.O. CONT’D)
He tells me that the TribeMother has picked up a spirit in her sleep. Something red and scaled, he says, something that bites. She wants to get rid of it, but doesn’t want it to go to waste. He tells me if I take it from her, they will show me the place I want to find. I agree.
The Kothringi Elder starts to CHANT. The TribeMother opens a place in her hides, exposing skin stretched taut over her ribs. She grabs the bowl of water and holds it there.
The Kothringi Elder reaches over and closes his fist around the air next to her ribs. He pulls his fist back slowly, as if he is pulling something invisible out of her body. The TribeMother moans with pain. Boma watches, somewhat fascinated, somewhat in a hurry to get this over with. He
jumps a little when the Kothringi Elder opens his hand and something splashes into the water. The TribeMother pushes it over to Boma. There seems to be nothing in the bowl but water, but the nomads look at him in all seriousness and motion for him to drink. He does.
EXT. HEARTLAND JUNGLE DAY
Boma is running through the jungle, trying to keep up with a nomad brave on a Coutal. They come close to a rise, and the Kothringi gets off his mount. Together, he and Boma crawl to hide behind a ridge of scrub brush.
Below them, in a shadowed valley, is an encampment of the Red Teat tribe. Mingling with the nomads are the “Imperial” forces of Captain Pelinal. Boma spots Perrif and Hjalti in front of one of the yurts conferring with Pelinal, Emp Zed, and a swarm of homunculi channeling the ghost of Reman.
The Boneshaver brave grunts something to Boma and then smacks the back of his neck. The nomad then spits into his hand, points his palm to the Red Teats, curses, and then runs back to his Coutal. Boma is alone. He pulls out his Kothringi knife, but then flinches from a pain in his side.
BOMA KURO (V.O. CONT’D)
The Boneshaver medicine man poisoned me. I had studied comparative religion at the University. I know this is something called sympathetic magic my death will be a metaphor for the death of the Empire, or perhaps the colonization of Cyrodiil in general. More than a metaphor, my professor would have said. It will be a guarantee. Seeing the traitors below, I am just glad the Kothringi gave me something that takes a while to work.
EXT. Kothringi CAMP (RED TEAT TRIBE) DAY
Boma walks through the camp, trying to avoid the crew of the Atonement, but striding through the nomads freely.
BOMA KURO (V.O. CONT’D)
The Red Teats take no notice of me. I am just another traitor in a Imperial worker’s uniform. I look for the one they call Hjalti.
Boma tries to avert his face when two Orphan Dogs walk by and look out towards the valley ridge.
ATONEMENT ORPHAN DOG ONE
What’s taking the transport so long?
ATONEMENT ORPHAN DOG TWO
Hjalti is trying to convince Chancellor Mede that we can still take the plant.
Boma closes in on the yurt where Hjalti and Perrif are discussing the operation. He swallows, nervously. He looks around at how many enemies are between him and Hjalti.
BOMA KURO (V.O.)
This is when I should strike. He is not covered everywhere in Colovian metal. Fast enough so he cannot slip beneath my mind and make me change it. I am right here and I cannot do it. It is becoming an event, something gathering momentum. My cowardice is making me a spectator.
HJALTI
(into a wristmoth) Mede, we have a shot at this.
MEDE (V.O.)
Your argument needs some work. Think on it while in transit. Our cuttlefish are clearing a flight corridor for the transports. Expect them in ten. Mede out.
PELINAL
(into his own wristmoth) We read you, Chancellor Mede.
(to Hjalti) Give it up, Hjal.
BOMA KURO (V.O.)
I see my father dead and know this is why I am here. At the same time, I know everything that transpired did so indirectly. The speakwell man should die anyway. This is everything I want. Even remembering the red biter in my side, I cannot move. So the Governor, he decides for me.
The homunculi cloud WHISTLES. Pelinal’s wristmoth TRILLS.
ATONEMENT ORPHAN DOG ONE (V.O.)
Enemy forces in range, Captain. They have artillery.
Pelinal looks to Zurin and the cloud, which is already readying a hundred miniature likenesses of Reman’s knifemissile.
ZURIN
(to the air) No worries, Wulf.
(to the cloud) Slaaka slaaka.
(to Perrif) Perrif?! Get that damn thoomboom infield already!
Zurin and the Remanculus move as throatfire ERUPTS on the outskirts of the encampment. Kothringi WAR CRIES ring throughout the valley as the nomads rush by on Coutals.
PERRIF
Hey, boka mokta choot already.
The Remanculus emerges from the yurt, stomping into the battle, throatcandles spinning into place and knifemissiles readied.
REMANCULUS
Boka mokta choot!
The EXPLOSIONS start. Hjalti, Perrif, Emp Zed, and Pelinal break apart, issuing commands to other Insurgents. Then Perrif sees Boma. He sprints forward, pulling out his knife.
PERRIF
Hjal!
Boma tackles her to the ground, holding the jagged edge of the knife to her throat, pinning her arm with his knee. Pelinal and Emp Zed ready their magic and hold it on Boma. Hjalti is calm.
Boma is crying, yelling at Hjalti in his native Bravilian while struggling to keep Perrif on the ground. Perrif’s neck grazes the Kothringi knife and blood is drawn.
EMP ZED
Perrif! Hold still!
PELINAL
Fix this, EB.
Hjalti approaches Boma, IGNITING his handcandle.
Just a sec. No!
HJALTI PERRIF
(to Boma) I remember you! We’re sorry!
Boma leans down, yelling into her face. The blade cuts deeper. Boma’s eyes are crazed enough that Perrif starts screaming.
Hjalti sets fire to the Kothringi knife in Boma’s hand with his candlestick. Boma looks up just in time to see Hjalti’s boot.
BLACK OUT.
EXPLOSIONS and WAR CRIES.
EMP ZED (V.O.)
You all right, sweetie?
Perrif (V.O.)
Yeah. Hjalti
HJALTI (V.O.)
Woodshop, I know. Let’s go.
PELINAL (V.O.)
(fading out)
Fish boats just hit the atmosphere, people. Cover and retreat.
PERRIF (V.O.)
We can’t leave him here. Something bad happened, see.
HJALTI (V.O.)
He made that pretty obvious. Let’s go.
IMPERIAL NAVAL BATTLESPIRES are heard approaching over the sounds of the battle.
PERRIF (V.O.)
No way.
Beat.
HJALTI (V.O.)
(huffing)
Fine. Give me a hand, Emp Zed. Compassion here weighs a ton.
INT. REBEL NAVY BUTTERTUB CARGO HOLD
Boma is strapped to the wall of the Cargo Hold. He looks around in a daze. Insurgents of the WGTOne Operation pass him by, moving to combat positions. Boma, straining his neck, manages to look outside the cockpit viewport. The Imperial BSpire Atonement, still locked into combat with the Reckoning, is closing.
Some of the Atonement’s cuttlefish candleboats move into the superstring, leaving the battle. An enemy starfish galleon gets in the way of the freighter, but an unseen candlewicker somewhere in the Buttertub picks it off. After the fiery debris of the explosion clears, the Atonement’s hangar bay is in view.
BOMA KURO (V.O.)
When I see the gargantuan Imperial Battlespires, I realize the extent of this civil war. My father’s Empire is crumbling apart.
Pelinal comes over the Buttertub’s loudspeakers.
PELINAL (V.O.)
All personnel: prepare for transition into the aether. Chancellor Mede, you can move out. We’ve got your destination coordinates.
When the Buttertub starts to SHUDDER, its beliefengines warming up, Boma blanks out again.
INT. IMPERIAL BSPIRE ATONEMENT DETENTION CELL
He awakes shivering on the cold, blackmatte ebony slab of a detention cell. His hand strays to his forehead, where Hjalti kicked him. A large welt has grown there, black and bloody, along with all the other beatings Boma’s skull has taken in the last day or so. The detention cell’s lacquered ebony doors SWISH open. Hjalti appears.
HJALTI
Wake up, kid. Chancellor Mede wants to talk to you.
BOMA KURO
(subtitled)
“The successes of the rash are none of them rewarded.”
HJALTI
Spooky. Now follow me.
BOMA KURO
(subtitled)
I’ll actually cut her deep next time.
HJALTI
(slowly)
Follow me.
BOMA KURO (V.O.)
I cannot resist. I blame it on all the wounds I have suffered.
Boma calmly follows Hjalti out of the cell.
INT. IMPERIAL BSPIRE ATONEMENT – CHANCELLOR MEDE’S QUARTERS
Two Insurgent Officers lead Boma into Mede’s quarters. The Chancellor is at his desk. Pelinal is behind him, standing. Boma, out of Hjalti’s speakwell influence, tries to look defiant. He looks around the room, to the shelves, the red drapes, the trophies and souvenirs of Chancellor Mede’s career.
MEDE
Hello. My name is Chancellor Titus Mede, formerly of the Imperial Navy. This is my sporeship, the BSpire Atonement. Please take a seat.
BOMA KURO (V.O.)
Every word confirms my suspicions. Soon, he will be trying to validate his insurrection. For the Governor’s sake, I want to hear what he has to say. To hear how many traitors there are. You work your way up in this Empire. Something, however, will not let me.
BOMA KURO (CONT’D)
(subtitled) May a thousand Gilas take you.
BOMA KURO (V.O.)
It is a nomad curse, shouted to the walls every morning at WGTOne. It is the best I can muster.
Mede sits back and frowns. He replies in Bravilian.
MEDE
(subtitled)
Is it somehow romantic for you to swear at me in your own tongue? Unbecoming behavior, I would say, especially for a University man.
Boma turns to look at everyone, perhaps to see if they understand. He glances at Hjalti.
MEDE (CONT’D)
Boma Kuro, cargo loader 143, employee of the WGTOne Colony Sugar Plant, Cyrodiil City, Cyrodiil Thoughtform.
(subtitled)
To alleviate your grief, I must know what caused it.
BOMA KURO
Bullshit. You are just another running dog for the Estates. You brought your wars you brought to my house.
MEDE
I am part of an uprising against the Imperial Regime, Mr. Kuro. Our rebellion is small, and getting smaller. We are low on supplies. Literally, we are running out of energy to fight this war. Your version of the thoughtform is one of the solutions.
BOMA KURO
You are traitors.
MEDE
Yes we are. Sometimes, we are worse. In your case, I suspect that we were.
BOMA KURO
Why did you bring me here?
MEDE
As I understand it, it was out of pity, initially. Officer Perrif is one of the better hearts aboard my ship, Mr. Kuro. I am not. As you say, I was born into the Estates, but those days are long past. My rebellion fights the Empire now and we will win. You are before me at the moment
because this thoughtform is still one of the solutions.
Mede presses a button on his desk, bringing up its twopaneled plasma field.
BOMA KURO (V.O.)
Thus he tries to justify his crimes.
MEDE (CONT’D)
I have prepared a series of visual aids to persuade you to understand my cause.
Images of Imperial atrocities appear on the desk’s plasmas. Boma, sick of being patronized, rushes the Chancellor. Pelinal lifts his chin and shocks him with throatfire. BLUEWHITE ANEMONES knock Boma to the floor.
Sighing, Mede gets up and motions for the Insurgent Officers to help Boma, still semiconscious, to his feet.
MEDE (CONT’D)
Let me apologize beforehand, Mr. Kuro. We thought our WhiteGold operation was foolproof, tactically speaking. It was not. You, however, will help us plan a second raid. You also have my promise that my people shall endeavor to make the procedure as painless as possible.
(to the Insurgent Officers) Take him to interrogation.
FADE OUT.
FADE IN:
EXT. AETHER UNKNOWN SECTOR
The Imperial BSpire Atonement travels through a field of bright gases somewhere off the known maps. Her hull is damaged from the fight with the Reckoning, but she is running fine.
BOMA KURO (V.O.)
To tell you the truth...
(beat)
...I expected worse treatment at their hands. But Chancellor Mede kept his word.
(beat)
I do not feel guilty telling this panel that now.
INT. IMPERIAL BSPIRE ATONEMENT MED LAB
Boma is strapped to a cushioned table, wearing an ancient Hegemony regulator mask, drugged, eyes halfclosed. A witchdoctor is next to him watching his vital signs. A black Torture Shark, its mechanical appendagefins bristling with dracodermic needles, bone saws, and pressure clamps, floats out of the room. An ALD TEMPLE PRIEST is seated on a stool next to Boma, asking him a series of questions. These are MUTED by Boma’s VoiceOver. Boma is answering the questions the same way.
BOMA KURO (V.O. CONT’D)
I think they had the torture shark there just to scare me. It’s not like they even used it. What I do feel guilty about is being too weak not to betray the Governor and the Empire.
On a nearby wall is a plasma field which Hjalti, Pelinal, Emp Zed, and Mede are staring at. One quarter of the screen monitors their prisoner’s health.
The rest of it is an expanding map of the Sugar Plant, sections that fade in and out or morph into different
configurations entirely as the Medical Officer questions Boma. Pelinal points to a section that finally stabilizes. Hjalti nods and says something to the Chancellor. Perrif leans her back to the wall and watches Boma instead.
INT./EXT. IMPERIAL BSPIRE ATONEMENT SUBSECTION EIGHTEEN
Boma, his wounds cleaned up and in cheap ‘kreath handcuffs, is led down a corridor by Insurgent Officers. They pass by the briefing room in subsection eighteen. Chancellor Mede, Pelinal, Perrif, Hjalti, Emp Zed, and various other Insurgents are outlining their new raid on WGTOne, the Sugar Plant displayed before them by the visiograph presentation.
Boma and Perrif exchange glances. He notices the small scabs along her neck. She smiles shyly at him anyway.
BOMA KURO (V.O. CONT’D)
If I could, I would spit into my palm and show it to her, using the nomad curse. Even I don’t know what it really represents. But she deserves something of the sort. For the look she gives me. All the while using memory footage of my failure to stage another attack on my people.
HJALTI
(in midexplanation)
... assuming reinforcements, of course. (pointing to other sections) Otherwise, we set the Dragon Breaks here, here, and here.
MEDE
This time you go in with the transports right behind you, Captain.
PELINAL
Yessir. Emp Zed, throat the new mission profile to the Queen. Everyone else get to your stations. We hit the ground in three hours.
INT. IMPERIAL BSPIRE ATONEMENT DETENTION CELL
Boma no longer has his handcuffs on. His hands are over his face. He is silently crying. He hears voices through the lacquered ebony door.
PERRIF (O.S.)
(muffled)
I’ll be fine.
REBEL OFFICER (O.S)
(muffled)
And I’ll be right outside, Officer Perrif.
The black door SWISHES open and Perrif enters. She has changed back into her Haafingar flight vest and helmet.
Beat. The ebony door closes. Perrif cautiously takes a seat next to Boma, her hand on her dagger. They both sit there for a few seconds, not looking at each other.
PERRIF
My father was killed, too. By the Empire, I mean. Well, kind of. By ‘father’ I mean ‘gods’.
Boma says nothing. Perrif sighs and looks over.
PERRIF (CONT’D)
I’m assuming here, I mean. It was your father, right?
Beat.
PERRIF (CONT’D)
Um. I don’t really have much time here
BOMA KURO
I don’t either.
PERRIF
What?
BOMA KURO
I’m dying.
PERRIF
Um, I don’t think so, Boma.
BOMA KURO
How would you know? There is a Kothringi poison in me.
PERRIF
A what?
BOMA KURO
See? You would use anyone.
PERRIF
What are you talking about?
BOMA KURO
The nomads? In the jungle? You were with them and you don’t even know their names!
PERRIF
Oh. Right. So, um, why do you think they poisoned you?
BOMA KURO
I can feel it.
Boma pats his side. Perrif doesn’t understand.
BOMA KURO (CONT’D)
Shut up!
Beat. Perrif starts to get a little nervous.
PERRIF
Well, Boma, I’m pretty sure the medical fish would’ve picked up something like that.
BOMA KURO
Perhaps they did and you just don’t want to tell me.
PERRIF
(looking away)
We’re not like that. I know that probably sounds dumb or whatever, but it’s true. Chancellor Mede plans to let you go after we
Boma punches Perrif across the jaw. She stands up in a daze, trying to remember to pull her dagger out. Boma smashes her face again. She THUDS against the ebony door. A second later, it SWISHES open and the Insurgent Officer appears in the doorway. Boma STABS him with Perrif’s dagger.
BOMA KURO (V.O.)
I am not afraid to say that I wish I hadn’t done it. That is another thing you might want to record.
Boma slumps down, dropping the dagger. He sits there and looks at the bodies. He starts trembling. It is a long while before he can reach over and pull the lifeless Insurgent Officer inside the detention cell. He pulls off the Officer’s helmet carefully, trying not to look at the open, staring eyes. Then Boma looks over at Perrif.
BOMA KURO (V.O. CONT’D)
I can’t kill her. Maybe if she wasn’t unconscious. Maybe if she had the look on her face that she did before.
(beat)
I doubt it, though. Later on, I won’t be able to kill her again.
INT. IMPERIAL BSPIRE ATONEMENT HANGAR BAY
Dressed in the Insurgent Officer’s uniform, and holding a large tablet over the scorched opening in its chest, Boma casually checks over some cargo crates in the Atonement’s hangar.
The WITTENWHITE CORRIDOR of the superstring rotates slowly below the open bay.
The WGTOne operatives are loading into their fighterfish. Pelinal’s command team is loading into an ebony Buttertub. Hjalti isn’t present. When Boma realizes this, he starts to panic. He makes for a candleboat that no one seems to be watching. Its cephalotendril is already in place. It spins its ganglia and BEEPS at him cheerfully and the cockpit viewport opens. Boma gets inside as Chancellor Mede’s voice comes over the BSpire’s loudspeakers.
MEDE (V.O.)
Captain Pelinal?
PELINAL
(into his wristmoth)
Ready to say hello to the thick of it, sir.
Boma’s candleboat engines begin to WHINE. Then he notices Perrif enter the hangar, staggering towards Pelinal.
EXT. AETHER ABOVE CYRODIIL THOUGHTFORM
The Atonement falls out of the Aether, its woodfeathered prow angled down at the Reckoning. Its forward candles open fire as a swarm of fighters and transports shoot out of its hangar bay. The Reckoning accelerates and tries to loop out of Mede’s firing arc.
INT. BOMA’S FIGHTERFISH
Boma banks away from the rest of the Insurgent forces.
BOMA KURO (V.O.)
I wasn’t fast enough. I had three hours. I could have stolen this fighterfish and made my way to Cyrodiil without the ganglia. I know every superstring trajectory to this world by heart. I memorized them for the day I would finally be able to leave it behind.
CUTTLEFISH PILOT ONE (V.O.)
ConquistadorTwo, that’s not your attack run.
(beat) ConquistadorTwo, please respond.
Boma nears the planet’s atmosphere when a wing of the Reckoning’s cuttlefish candleboats moves to intercept him. They open fire. Boma flips his communications switch.
BOMA KURO
Hold your fire! I am
CUTTLEFISH PILOT TWO (V.O.)
Okay, obviously not ConquistadorTwo.
BOMA KURO
Boma Kuro, WGTOne colonist designation 143. Repeat: hold your fire, I am not an enemy!
SPARKS fly from Boma’s cockpit as an enemy fishfighter scores a hit. The cephalotendril in his head SCREAMS. Another EXPLOSION causes a BLACK OUT.
EXT. RUMARE RIVERBED AFTERNOON
The nose of Boma’s fishfighter is lodged in the mud of the riverbank, decaying into stink. The landscape of WGTOne is nowhere in sight.
INT. BOMA’S FISHFIGHTER COCKPIT AFTERNOON
Boma tries to push the cockpit viewport open. It won’t budge. He turns around and pulls out the cephalotendril. It SNAPS.
A Boneshaver jumps onto Boma’s candleboat, HOWLING. Boma ducks when the nomad’s club CRACKS the viewport’s nowfleshy
cockpit. He can hear several other Kothringi nearby, shouting WAR CRIES.
EXT. RUMARE RIVERBED AFTERNOON
A nomad brave throws Boma to the ground. Another jumps up and down on his back, smacking the youth’s legs with a rockencrusted banjo. Boma SCREAMS.
Boma covers his head as spearheads stab into the mud all around it. The Boneshavers pound on him relentlessly. Some throw pieces of the fishfighter’s eyes on top of him. One takes his throatcandle and shoots the bulk of its wetstink carcass over and over again.
Then the Kothringi Elder speaks and the HOWLING stops.
Boma looks up to see the Kothringi Elder pointing at him and shaking his head, saying something in harsh tones.
A Boneshaver brave flips Boma over and takes out a knife. Another one, wearing the fishfighter’s spaghettithread brain as a helmet, thrusts a spearhead towards Boma’s face repeatedly, laughing. The nomad with the knife cuts the side of Boma’s uniform open. The Kothringi Elder slides down the riverbed slope and inspects Boma’s ribs. He pokes a finger into them, Boma wincing with each touch. Satisfied, the Kothringi Elder stands up and yells something triumphantly.
The braves give another WAR CRY, kick mud around, and run off.
The Boneshaver with the gangliathread helmet takes it off and spits into its quivering mass. Then he places it on Boma’s
face and taps out something on it with his banjo. SPLORCH! SPLORCH! SPLORCH!
Finally, he drops a Kothringi knife on Boma’s chest and leaves.
Beat.
Boma tries to move his legs but can’t. Moaning, he flips himself over and starts to crawl up the mud to the top of the riverbank ridge.
A painted Kothringi brave on a Coutal appears there. They stare at eachother for a second before the Painted Kothringi Brave throws him a braided rope of hair. Boma grabs it and is dragged to level ground.
The Painted Kothringi Brave gets off his Coutal and squats in front of Boma, slapping the dust with a palm. Boma lifts his hands and averts his eyes.
PAINTED KOTHRINGI BRAVE
Quit moping, Boma. Go to work.
Boma cannot believe it. The Painted Kothringi Brave laughs and helps him to sit up. Boma’s head swims.
BOMA KURO
(subtitled)
Did I... am I..?
PAINTED KOTHRINGI BRAVE
Cyrodilic. And yes.
BOMA KURO
No!
The Painted Kothringi Brave cocks his head and moves his face close to Boma’s. He looks from one eye to the other and then laughs again, nodding his head.
PAINTED KOTHRINGI BRAVE
Times have been better.
BOMA KURO
I’m not done yet! Get away from me!
The Painted Kothringi Brave laughs and jumps back onto his Coutal. He points off to the horizon. Boma doesn’t understand. The Painted Kothringi Brave motions for him to stand. Boma struggles to his feet. He looks across the river, holding a hand over his eyes.
In the distance, WGTOne is burning.
Boma looks to the Painted Kothringi Brave. He shoves the Coutal’s head away.
BOMA KURO (CONT’D)
I said get away from me!
The Painted Kothringi Brave points back down to the lower riverbank. He points out the knife. Boma nods.
The Painted Kothringi Brave kicks his Coutal and starts to trot off. He looks over his shoulder and smiles.
PAINTED KOTHRINGI BRAVE
Aim higher.
Boma goes back down to retrieve the knife. He puts it in his belt and starts to swim across the river.
DISSOLVE TO: EXT. CYRODIIL THOUGHTFORM OUTSIDE PARISH OF WGTONE NIGHT
It is a long walk across the plains to WGTOne. The flames are reaching high into the sky. Boma can see a horde of Kothringi ransacking the city. The turrets on top of the candle towers are firing on them, explosions too far away to hear.
In the sky, cuttlefish fighters are engaged in a war of their own. A candleboat’s dorsal fin breaks off, sending the fighter spinning out of control. After a few long seconds it flies over Boma’s head, the flaming ruptures along its quicklydrying corpse illuminating a fastfading trail to the city. It EXPLODES into VISCERA some distance behind him.
BOMA KURO (V.O.)
Let it be said that I do not think this was Chancellor Mede’s plan at all. There were nomad tribes here I had never seen before. The Boneshavers and their cousins were hunting side by side. It was uncomplicated, this blood frenzy, and all the children of Kothringi were there to revel in its fire. To the uninitiated, their war cries sounded like just that: the lunatic poetry of crowds and mobs. But the dead hear them right. This isn’t any language known in the Mundus. This isn’t even a language at all. These are the spontaneous proverbs of something outside of ourselves, behind even the stars, the artless signal of the bad half of the divine, and it was right here, right here at WGTOne, where all things begin and end.
Boma is almost to the city now. The knife is in his hand.
FADE OUT.
FADE IN:
EXT. CYRODIIL CITY OUTSIDE THE PARISH OF WGTONE NIGHT
Boma has reached the city gates. They are torn asunder, their metal surfaces burning somehow.
A Kothringi raider jumps over the FLAMING wreckage of a tricycle on a wildeyed Coutal. He has a female colonist across the saddle before him, SCREAMING. He sees Boma and shakes his spear. Boma walks on.
One of the Imperial soldiers in a guard tower targets Boma with a turret, thinking him a nomad, or perhaps the Imperial is just caught up in the madness that has taken over the whole city.
Blasts ERUPT before and behind Boma, missing him entirely. He does not flinch, even when the guard tower EXPLODES. Boma walks on.
He walks straight toward a ROARING FLAME atop a small pile of scorched debris. A massive War Whale soars down close to the gates, its enginegills leaving a trailing SONIC BOOM. Perhaps the wind around it makes the smoke and fire die down in front of Boma.
He walks over the extinguished remains of nameless, unidentifiable things and into the ruins of WGTOne.
EXT. WGTONE RIVERSIDE NIGHT
Riverside is all smoke. Throatbolts fly about and WAR CRIES ring throughout the quarter.
A pack of mounted Kothringi bursts out of the smoke, breaking apart as they near Boma, passing him by without notice.
Boma stops and looks around. He can’t seem to remember why he is here. Some smoke clears and he sees an Orphan Dog sprawled on the ground with a Red Teat spear in his back. Boma calmly goes over and picks up the Orphan Dog’s sword.
A Imperial soldier runs toward him.
WHINING KNIFEMISSILE FIRE comes out of the smoke, knocking
the soldier back beyond view. Something EXPLODES near Boma and he stumbles to the ground.
The Remanculus ambles forward, firing at unseen enemies, stepping over Boma to disappear back into the smoldering periphery.
Emp Zed and Perrif follow behind the organic combat form, firing behind them. They pass Boma without realizing it.
Boma gets up and follows them.
EXT. WGTONE MARKETPLACE NIGHT
They are gone when he reaches the marketplace. All the merchant stalls have been overturned. Some have caught fire and light small pockets of the violence. Others are being used as cover by Imperials, real or not. The Imperials blast away at each other, ignoring the nomads around them.
The nomads are swinging fire above their heads on the end of ropes, tossing them in every direction.
Boma passes his father’s shop without looking. Three Orphan Dogs, isolated from their squads, are charged by Kothringi braves. Boma stops to watch the outcome.
HOWLING braves overwhelm one of the Orphan Dogs, pounding his helmet with rocks or burning clubs. They rip his armor off and try to bite the pieces.
The other Orphan Dogs (DOOMED DOG ONE and DOOMED DOG TWO) open fire on the rest of the war party, taking a few down, but soon the braves are nearly on top of them.
Then a Trilobyte Freighter hits the cobbled square, bursting into a thousand fiery pieces, and the Kothringi forget the Orphan Dogs, looking back at the destruction. They laugh and raise their spears, clubs, knives, and throatcandles.
Then they rush into the flames around the fountain and dance in the whitehot fragments of the fallen seafighter.
Doomed Dog One gets to his feet and leans on the woodshop’s overhang supports, breathing hard. After a moment he helps Doomed Dog Two up.
Pelinal’s voice suddenly comes over Doomed Dog One’s wristmoth.
PELINAL (V.O.)
This is Captain Pelinal. Anyone that can hear this retreat to the Sugar Plant
DOOMED DOG TWO
(backing away) Captain Pelinal? You’re one of
The Orphan Dogs BLAST each other and fall. Boma walks on.
EXT. WGTONE WEIRGATE NIGHT
He finds Emp Zed and Perrif at the Weirgate, pinned down
behind an Assault CuttleShuttle with several other Insurgents by Imperials firing out of the hangar bay.
The Kothringi drive cargo haulers into metabromide cell crates at high speed, jumping off just before they impact and EXPLODE.
Zurin trots carefully towards the Assault CuttleShuttle, taking shots at nomads with a throatcandle pistol in one hand and at the Imperials in the hangar bay with the stickyshout thoom launcher in the other.
Something inside the hangar EXPLODES, and the pyloncornered energy screen evaporates. The Kothringi rush out of it and jump onto the backs of the Imperials, biting, bashing, and pushing them around.
Two of the nomads grab the arms of a struggling Imperial soldier and hold his head down between two pylons. A third nomad turns the energy screen back on. The SCREAM is heard above everything.
Emp Zed spots another Assault CuttleShuttle coming down from the night sky and moves out to guide it in.
EMP ZED
Zurin, come here and cover me!
The math athlete GROWLS in agreement and runs across the Weirgate, only to be skewered by the spear of a mounted Kothringi. He stands there and HISSES, blasting the head of the Coutal. The creature buckles and falls.
Zurin drops his thoom launcher and grabs the spear, lifting the nomad holding it up into the air. He raises his handcandle again and blasts the nomad off of it.
Another nomad quickly runs by and snatches up the stickyshout thoom launcher. He points it up at the Assault CuttleShuttle and fires. A patch of its hidehull EXPLODES.
Zurin pulls the spear out of his body and impales the nomad. The Kothringi dies laughing.
The Assault Shuttle flipflops backwards, no longer able to breathe anything but its native water, spiraling back to EXPLODE on the city walls, which breaks apart, letting another horde of HOWLING nomads into the city.
Emp Zed looks at the pilot of the first Assault CuttleShuttle while firing blindly at the Kothringi braves.
EMP ZED (CONT’D)
Go!
The Assault CuttleShuttle rises. Emp Zed, Perrif, and the Insurgents start to run. Some are picked off by the Imperials still alive in the hangar.
A nomad clubs Emp Zed across the skull as the horde overtakes them. Boma sees Perrif lifted onto a Coutal, screaming and shooting. Her throatcandle flintlock is soon knocked out of her hand.
The Kothringi trample back into the flames of the marketplace. Emp Zed is on the ground, his leg at an odd angle.
Zurin leaps at one of the last of the nomads, his University fangs CRUNCHING into the Kothringi’s neck veins as they both fall next to Emp Zed and the rest of the dead Insurgents. He lifts the nomad over her head and ROARS.
Boma walks over to him, eyes glazed over.
BOMA KURO
You were supposed to retreat to the Sugar Plant.
Zurin ignores him, throwing the nomad down and leaning down to Emp Zed. Hjalti’s voice comes over Emp Zed’s wrist controls.
HJALTI (V.O.)
Emp Zed? Perrif?
BOMA KURO
(vague and unsure) Officer Perrif....
HJALTI (V.O.)
Emp Zed, Chancellor Mede says another Imperial BSpire is on its way.
Boma walks towards the marketplace again.
EXT. WGTONE MARKETPLACE NIGHT
The marketplace is still a battleground. The Remanculus is holding off a war party of Kothringi with its impossipoint handcandles.
Boma waits for them to reload before he steps across their field of fire. They start shooting again.
An Imperial Orphan Dog on the city wall takes off his muzzle and yells down at the Mothmen of Old.
ATONEMENT SOLDIER
A time and a place, huh, guys? Come on! The Empire’s reinforcements are coming!
He has to stop to blast a nomad brave climbing up a crack in the wall.
The Remanculus looks up and GRUNTS. The Mothmen of Old slowly fall back.
Boma sees several Queyclass Imperial CuttleShuttles swooping down towards the city. A candleboat falls behind one and opens fire, scoring a hit on its scales, and then banking around again for the kill.
Boma spots Perrif inside the collapsed shell of a tenement building. Kothringi have her cornered with their spears.
Outside, nomads on Coutals motion for him to come and join the fun. He blasts one of them. The other nomad watches as his friend hits the ground and laughs.
BOMA KURO (V.O.)
I am the creatordestroyer. I am the false form. I am the joy and the dirge. My name is Boma Kuro, 143, the luminous redscaled pariah of all dead cities to come.
The remaining Kothringi brave lifts his club, shakes it, and shouts something victorious. Boma blasts him, too.
BOMA KURO (V.O. CONT’D)
And they expect this from me.
INT. TENEMENT BUILDING NIGHT
Perrif is knocked to the ground. A spear pierces her leg. A Kothringi squats down next to her and pats the dust near her face. She looks up, crying, to see him holding her wristmoth.
He talks gibberish into it and laughs.
Boma enters. He looks at Perrif. The nomad holding her wristmoth puts it down and smashes it.
BOMA KURO
(to Perrif)
Can you see me?
PERRIF
What?
BOMA KURO
Good enough.
Boma starts to blast the nomads one by one until they run from the tenement, howling with glee. Boma squats down and looks at Perrif, from one eye to another.
BOMA KURO (CONT’D)
Walk.
EXT. WGTONE MARKETPLACE – NIGHT
Boma leaves the tenement. Perrif follows, limping. She grabs his sleeve. The Kothringi are swarming all around them.
BOMA KURO (CONT’D)
Stay close to me.
PERRIF
But we can’t
Suddenly every nomad in the city gives a WAR CRY louder than any before. Boma looks up.
BOMA KURO
(full of bemused admiration) Will you look at that?
Breaking through Cyrodiils’s atmosphere is a dead sun god falling to earth: the bright erupting remains of a Imperial Battlespire. When it EXPLODES the clouds themselves catch fire.
Perrif shakes her head slowly.
PERRIF
No.
BOMA KURO
Don’t worry. It is not yours. It is the other one.
PERRIF
How do you know?
BOMA KURO
You aren’t the Empire.
Perrif can’t stop looking. Boma takes her hand. He smiles and leads her through the nomads without fear.
EXT. WGTONE GOVERNOR’S QUARTER SUGAR PLANT NIGHT
The last transport at the Sugar Plant is the ebony cuttlefish freighter. Pelinal and a squad of Insurgent Soldiers are keeping the Imperials in the Weirgate at bay.
Perrif sees Pelinal and starts running. Boma keeps walking. He looks at the landing Bummerclass Imperial CuttleShuttles and starts slowing down. Perrif ducks behind a cargo crate and waves for him to hurry.
PERRIF
Come on, Boma!
Pelinal hears Perrif’s voice and looks over.
PELINAL
Perrif, get into the freighter! Now!
Boma stops and looks at all the Orphan Dogs unloading out into the Weirgate. He starts moving towards them, as if in a dream. Perrif runs over and grabs him.
PERRIF
Look, you can come with us.
BOMA KURO
(beat)
I...don't think this is how it’s supposed to work.
A throatbolt flies too near. Perrif pulls Boma to the ground.
PERRIF
How what is supposed to work? What the hell are you talking about?
PELINAL
Perrif!
Boma doesn’t move. He starts looking around at the burning city as if he were waking up.
PERRIF (CONT’D)
Boma, I swear
The Orphan Dogs start closing in.
PELINAL
Perrif!
PERRIF
I swear Chancellor Mede will never do anything like that to you again. Believe me.
Pelinal
Hjalti!
PERRIF
Believe me, Boma. I hated him once, too.
Boma looks at her. He lets her get him up.
PERRIF (CONT’D)
Good. We’ll have to run, you know.
BOMA KURO (V.O.)
I do not feel sorry I let her escape.
Hjalti comes out of the freighter’s loading ramp. He looks from Pelinal to Perrif. Perrif is tugging on Boma’s sleeve.
BOMA KURO (V.O. CONT’D)
You can underline that.
Boma pulls out his knife and holds it to Perrif’s throat. He locks eyes with Hjalti. The Orphan Dogs are getting closer now.
PERRIF
Boma, what are you doing?
PELINAL
Damn it, Hjalti!
Boma runs the edge of the knife close enough to Perrif’s skin to draw blood.
BOMA KURO (V.O.)
I can’t make any mistakes here.
HJALTI
(slowly)
Let her go.
BOMA KURO (V.O.)
And I don’t.
Boma lets Perrif go. Hjalti uses his University speakwell to make Boma trip on his own shoes. Pelinal runs over and grabs Perrif, dragging her to the freighter.
PERRIF
No, Hjalti! He wants you to
Perrif is pulled into the freighter. Hjalti looks from her to Boma to the Orphan Dogs.
BOMA KURO (V.O.)
And I do not feel guilty that I saved him, either.
Boma gets up and charges Hjalti, holding the knife above his head.
Hjalti raises a handcandle and Boma flies backwards, hitting the ground, slightly on fire. Hjalti, closing his eyes, slides Boma all the way to the feet of the Orphan Dogs.
Hjalti runs back to the freighter. It rises into the sky, Orphan Dogs firing at it futilely, and blasts OUT OF VIEW.
The Orphan Dogs look all around the city, seeing the Kothringi nomads everywhere.
Finally, the Orphan Dogs grab Boma by the collar and drag him back to their CuttleShuttle as the nomads advance on them, yelling and screaming and shaking their spears.
DISSOLVE TO:
EXT. CYRODIIL THOUGHTFORM ABOVE WGTONE NIGHT
as one Imperial CuttleShuttle after another abandons the parish.
BOMA KURO (V.O. CONT’D)
As the city burns, the hordes of Kothringi dance and sing and throw huge bundles of reeds and scrub brush into the fire, keeping it alive for as long as they can.
EXT. NEAR THE WHITEGOLD TOWER
The WhiteGold Tower: the central system of the Empire, its surface a mixture of dusky marble and the starlit constellations of its neverending city.
EXT. WHITEGOLD TOWER – ELDER COUNCIL HALL – DAY
PAN ACROSS the aetherscape of the Cyrodiil thotbox to WhiteGold Tower, and inside, into the Elder Council Hall chambers.
BOMA KURO (V.O. CONT’D)
And that, sirs, is my full report of the events that led to the destruction of Imperial Parish WGTOne. I have tried to explain it as best as I can.
INT. CYRODIIL THOTBOX ELDER COUNCIL HALL – DAY
A tribunal of Councilors sits on a high podium overlooking a grim, highvaulted chamber. Imperial Advisors are seated on a ring of tables spaced out in front of the Talos Tribunal.
Boma is seated at a table across from all of them. His hands are in handcuffs, bright ones now from one of the Estates, and he is in a dark gray prisoner’s uniform. Two Imperial Orphan Dogs stand at attention behind him.
Dreaming mages are floating throughout the chamber, recording everything. Boma looks up at all the faces as if for the first time. He leans closer to the people in front of him.
BOMA KURO (CONT’D)
I do regret that the Governor died in the massacre. As I stated, I liked him very much.
TALOS ONE
Governor Wulfharth was dead before the Imperial reinforcements even arrived.
BOMA KURO
I know, your honor.
TALOS TWO
It is believed that Chancellor Mede’s people were responsible for his death, not the Kothringi.
BOMA KURO
Forgive my asking, but how can you be sure? I understand that the Empire abandoned WGTOne the night I escaped.
TALOS TWO
We did. One remote factory parish is not worth the trouble it would take to protect it.
TALOS ONE
From the Kothringi or the Insurgency.
BOMA KURO
It was my intention to show you that WGTOne was more than a remote factory parish.
TALOS THREE
It is my belief that you intended far more than that, Boma Kuro.
BOMA KURO
I am not sure what you mean by that, sir.
TALOS THREE
Your confession, if you can call it that, seemed to me no more than an exercise in
BOMA KURO
I don't regard my report as a confession, either, your honor.
TALOS TWO
But you do regard yourself as guilty, though.
BOMA KURO
Yes, your honor. I am guilty of many things.
TALOS THREE
Do you still believe yourself to be dying, Boma Kuro?
BOMA KURO
Yes.
TALOS THREE
But you stated that you did not believe in the Kothringi magic. Twice. As I recall.
BOMA KURO
I don’t. But they do, your honor.
(beat)
And I think we all know what will happen to me after these proceedings are over.
TALOS ONE
Yes, we do. We are ready to pass sentence, Boma Kuro.
BOMA KURO
Thank you, sir.
TALOS ONE
You have been found guilty of multiple counts of high treason against the Empire. Would you like to hear them all, Boma Kuro?
BOMA KURO
Thank you, your honor, but no. I have had my say. And I have done my best to warn you. This is how it is supposed to work.
TALOS ONE
Boma Kuro 143, the penalty for high treason is death by zerosum, to be carried out immediately. Guards, please remove the prisoner from the chamber.
Boma Kuro is led from the room.
IRIS OUT.
THE END
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