The Retreat

EXT. THE ORPHIC ORACLE - DAY Everything proceeds in silence. The Oracle is not the largest ship in any fleet. In fact, she's downright tiny compared to the bulk of the refueller that she's nuzzled up against, her sphincters dilated for easy access to her holds. Hydrogen and helium get pumped into bulging tanks above and rear. Men and women, like ants on a watermelon, clamber over her hull checking for micrometeorite damage or worse. The hull has definitely seen worse. The rear is open, pressed against a large umbilicus, sealed tight against vacuum. Inside the translucent extension, shadows shift, casting pantomime shadows against the near wall. INT. ORACLE LOADING BAY - CONTINUOUS Abruptly, it's a hammer of noise as machines clank, motors strain, and people shout across the clamour. HENRI LLOYD stands in a commanding position over the bay on a stack of supply crates, hands on hips, face a mask of conflicting emotions. He wears a bandage on his left sh