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INT. U.S.S. URANIA — KEPLER'S QUARTERS — 1900 HOURS
A room of Spartan decor. Everything has its place, and everything is in that place.
COLONEL WARREN KEPLER sits before a comms panel. He's waiting.
BEAT. Then a DING, signifying an incoming call. CLICK.
MR. CUTTER
Hello, Warren! Can you hear me?
KEPLER
Yes, sir, loud and clear.
MR. CUTTER
Excellent. I won't keep you long, I know how busy you are! This is just a routine check in—you know the drill.
COLONEL KEPLER takes a DEEP BREATH. He has prepared his next words carefully.
KEPLER
(confidently)
Sir, all systems are in working order. My team is, as always, performing excellently, and—
Before he can continue, MR. CUTTER starts to laugh. Quiet, at first, then louder, so that KEPLER can no longer ignore it. KEPLER pauses.
KEPLER
Is… something wrong, sir?
MR. CUTTER
Oh no, nothing's wrong, it's just that I already know all of that, Warren!
KEPLER
You… do, sir?
MR. CUTTER
Of course. We had the systems analysis last week, didn't we? And, anyway, I know you'd never tolerate anything so crass as insubordination from your crew!
BEAT. KEPLER is glad there's no video feed; his expression is just a tad too long-suffering for someone talking to their superior.
When MR. CUTTER does not continue, KEPLER clears his throat.
KEPLER
Then, with all due respect, sir… What,exactly, is this call about?
MR. CUTTER
Oh, I'm here to talk about you, Warren!
KEPLER
(what?)
…Me, sir?
MR. CUTTER
(cheerful, as always)
You, sir!
It takes KEPLER a second to regain composure. But only a second. He is a professional, after all.
BEAT.
KEPLER
Anything in particular about me, sir?
MR. CUTTER
How are you, Warren?
KEPLER
Fine, sir.
MR. CUTTER
Just fine?
BEAT.
KEPLER
Permission to speak plainly, sir?
MR. CUTTER
Oh, for you? Always, Warren. I wouldn't have it any other way.
KEPLER
Sir, I am on a spaceship, lightyears away from my home planet. Everyone on here with me either is trying to kill me, has tried to kill me, or doesn't see anything wrong the others for trying to kill me. Every night before I go to bed, I have to arm an explosive attached to my door so I can shut my eyes without being worried I'll never open them again. So, sir, I think "fine" is about as good as it gets.
MR. CUTTER
And which of those categories does Daniel fit in?
Even through the comms system, KEPLER can hear MR. CUTTER smiling. His response had been instantaneous. It was like he'd barely heard. This, KEPLER knows now, is the real reason MR. CUTTER called.
KEPLER's hand, on the console, shakes, almost imperceptibly. He forces it steady before he speaks.
KEPLER
(confused, on purpose)
Jacobi?
MR. CUTTER
(cheerful, on purpose)
Mmhm.
Despite his best efforts, KEPLER is caught off-guard.
KEPLER
He's—that is to say, Mr. Jacobi is—uh…
MR. CUTTER chuckles. Before KEPLER had met him, he'd been unaware that real people chuckled.
MR. CUTTER
You are so sweet, Warren.
COLONEL KEPLER has been called many things in his life. "Sweet" has never been one of them. Not once.
KEPLER
Sir?
MR. CUTTER
It's amazing to me that someone as ruthless and cruel as you—no offense, of course, you know I love those things about you—can still develop these kinds of feelings for someone!
All noise stops. KEPLER is not breathing. His heart is pounding so fast, he wonders if CUTTER can hear it over the comms. He is all but paralyzed. He says, very calmly,
KEPLER
I'm not sure I understand what you mean, sir.
MR. CUTTER
(no longer cheerful, but still smiling)
Oh, then allow me to speak more plainly, Colonel. Feelings. Of the romantic variety. Infatuation, if you will. Puppy-love. A crush.
The way he says CRUSH could mean the noun involving a heart, could mean the verb involving a fist.
KEPLER
(almost choking)
Sir, I can explain—
MR. CUTTER
Warren, I need you to understand something for me, and I need you to understand it completely. Your emotions are your own, but. If those emotions get in the way of your job in any way, they will have to be terminated. Have I made myself quite clear?
KEPLER
(quiet, shocked)
Yes, sir.
MR. CUTTER
Hm. You know, Warren? I don't think I have. You see, when I say "in any way," I do mean "in any way." There will be no need to act on your emotions. As you well know, there's never any need to act on emotion! Especially now.
KEPLER is sitting with a perfectly straight back, staring right ahead at the console. He knows MR. CUTTER is right. He knows that, in his line of work, what he feels doesn't matter. He'd surrendered his right to feelings the second he'd signed on. And... until JACOBI, he hadn't missed that right.
MR. CUTTER (CONT'D)
I need you with a clear head, Warren. I need you to remember that you are not up there for fun. You are upthere to do a job. And, as you know—
KEPLER
(reciting)
You don't go home until the job gets done.
MR. CUTTER
(back to his usual, cheery self)
Good! Now, what are you not going to do, Warren?
KEPLER
(with gritted teeth)
I am not going to act on emotion.
MR. CUTTER
What emotion in particular?
KEPLER's insides are crawling. He's never admitted this, even to himself, and now MR. CUTTER is forcing it out of his mouth with a pair of pliers.
KEPLER
Attraction.
MR. CUTTER
Hmm. Not exactly the word I had in mind.
BEAT.
KEPLER
(at a loss, doubtful)
…Affection?
MR. CUTTER
Oh, no. Never that, Warren. Not from you.
KEPLER
(snaps)
With all due respect, sir, I'm not a fan of this game.
MR. CUTTER
Sure. Let me spell it out for you. Repeat after me: "I will not act on my romantic feelings towards my second in command, Special Operative Daniel Jacobi."
BEAT. It wasn't like it was a difficult request. It wasn't like KEPLER had planned on doing that, anyway, and even if he had, there was no reason to disobey MR. CUTTER. Not unless one wanted to taste the iron of Hell's gates. Which KEPLER didn't.
MR. CUTTER
(drawn out)
Well?
KEPLER
I…
Another BEAT, while CUTTER waits. KEPLER's knuckles are white on the console.
KEPLER (CONT'D)
I will not…
But he can't finish. He can't. Why the hell can't he say it?
MR. CUTTER
(wincing)
Not great, Warren. Not great. I can only hope that this won't affect your ability to command. I would hate to see what would happen to you if it did.
It doesn't sound like MR. CUTTER would hate it so much.
KEPLER
I. Of course it won't. Sir.
MR. CUTTER
(darkly)
Of course it won't.
BEAT.
MR. CUTTER
(back to his old cheerful, creepy self)
Well! It was a good talk, Warren. Let me know if you need anything, okay? Bye, now!
CLICK. The call ends. KEPLER stares at the console for a minute, then drops his head onto it with a CLANG. That call couldn't have gone worse if there'd been a mutiny on board in the middle of it. He BANGS his fist on the console.
The thing about KEPLER is that he doesn't grow fond of people easily. In fact, he makes a habit not to. It tends to get in the way of killing them, in the end. That being said, when KEPLER does grow fond, it's with frightening ardor. It burns wild and pandemonious and horrific.
When KEPLER takes a liking to someone—a genuine liking—it scares even himself.
He knows one thing. If this continues, it will hurt everyone involved. Himself. The mission. JACOBI.
And he can't let that happen. Not on his command.
Head still down, he says,
KEPLER
I will not act on my romantic feelings towards my second in command, Special Operative Daniel Jacobi.
And he means it.
FADE OUT.
END.