Frak (F-rak)(Taboo)
1. transitive and
intransitive verb a highly
offensive term meaning to
have sexual intercourse
with somebody
2. transitive verb a highly
offensive term meaning to
treat somebody unjustly orharshly
3. transitive verb a highly
offensive term meaning to
ruin, botch, or destroy
something
4. transitive verb a highly
offensive term used like a
command, often followed
by another word, to
express anger, contempt,or rejection
HMS T'zaht - Muwani Space Station - Gorean Territory
~~*~~ <WEEK LATER>
The Muwani had been more than hospitable to the unexpected guests. At least while they struggled with the question of what to do with them. The longer 'outsiders' were in their ranks, the greater the risk of their discovery by the Gorean, and the diminutive Muwani wanted desperately to avoid that.
Not that Katz could blame them, the sudden arrival of a crippled Imperial starship wasn't exactly in keeping with their avoidance policies, and the station's ruling council was desperate to resolve the issue while still honouring their end of the bargain.
Katz had changed, borrowing some clothes from the former Captain of the T'zaht. Oddly mismatched grey suit trousers that at least fit him. The saffron-yellow dress uniform shirt had been carefully pinned with Katz's medal bars and his pilot's wings. With all the pomp and ceremony surrounding the Muwani's affection for uniforms and titles, Galadriel had suggested that they do their best to look official.
The best way to look official, Katz had decided, was to sling a pair of heavy pulse pistols into shoulder holsters. The kind of weapons that drew attention, and reminded their hosts that the Imperials were prepared for betrayal. It had drawn a sigh from Rikard, who had assured all of them that the Muwani were an honourable people and would shelter and protect them, but Katz wasn't about to place his faith in anyone Rikard said was trustworthy.
He worked, with his sleeves rolled up, on the dorsal hull of the T'zaht, preparing the vessel for a rapid departure, even though it meant bypassing some of the repairs he needed, and jerry rigging half of his ship using duct-tape and prayer.
"I'll have the quad's online in a few," Chuck called from a service panel back along the ship, a screwdriver tucked behind his ear as he fished through a large bundle of wires clutched in his hands, trying to find the right one to bypass.
"Good," Katz replied resting a hand on the large LADAR unit, a massive drum like assembly that sat alongside the bridge windows, surrounded by a forest of spars and RADAR masts that linked to the ships bowsprit that contained the advanced Imperial DARRT sensor array. A complex device that provided them with real-time information of the system around them.
"You think Rikard can really build a Propylon drive?" Chuck asked looking back at his skipper.
Katz scratched an itchy cheek, bobbing his shoulders, "I dunno, if anyone can he has the smarts to. And he does have that Gorean Port-key thing. If we have any chance of getting out of Gorean space, we're going to need something that can give us a leg up."
"You know skip, that's what I like about you," Chuck said digging back through the cables and wires. "Even though we're so incredibly screwed, you're cool as a cucumber."
"Being screwed is something I've gotten used to," Katz replied absently as he looked in towards the bridge, where Galadriel was sitting in the command chair, her legs tucked up under her and a tablet computer in her hands, whiling away with a stylus.
She looked up, as if she knew he was watching her, her eyes clouding for a second before she offered a cheery wave out at him, returning to her work. Almost as if their fight had been forgotten, but somehow both of them had gone out of their way to avoid each other since it had happened.
The Muwani, conservative as they were, had insisted on giving her 'appropriate clothing' that reminded Katz of a picture book Victorian school ma'am. Long grey skirts, with a high collared white blouse. She had, obligingly, worn her hair up. Rikard had followed her around for hours after that, making sarcastic comments about pornography and naughty school boys until she had, forcibly, insisted he get back to work.
"What if the Muwani decide to give us up to the Gorean?" Chuck asked, setting his cables aside and giving Katz his full attention.
"I'm hoping it won't come to that," Katz replied. "And if Rikard can't get this magic drive of his working, then we're in for a shoot out. Do you think we'll be ready for that?"
"Hartley's down in the engineering spaces," Chuck answered. "He's got the shields working properly… and how he did that I've no idea. So once I get us the quad-cannons, we should be able to punch a nice hole in those shiny bay doors over there." Chuck nodded to the space doors that sealed and pressurized the bay.
Katz nodded, "and once we're clear… I have Galadriel working on a safe route that should navigate us around the Gorean listening posts. So if the Muwani do decide to break this deal thingy, then we've got a back up plan."
Engineering - HMS T'zaht - Muwani Space Station - Gorean Territory
~~*~~
Rikard pushed through a set of glass doors he flipped open a breaker panel, looking at the rows of breakers already tripped. Their numbers far too small to handle the current that was required. Stupid. It was that very short-sighted engineering planning that had doomed the HMS Falconer's Talon three hundred and forty years ago.
Of course, he'd actually been the reason the ship had been doomed, using it as a way to get what he needed. He didn't think about it, merely opened a tool box, digging through his pockets for some loose change. A few pennies should do the trick. Picking up a wrench he swung it decisively breaking each of the breakers plastic casings, pushing the pennies to bridge the fuses. Standing back as he found the reset switch and depressed it.
Engineering alarm's blared.
The lights went dim, before every panel in the reactor control room shot up to full power.
Blue-lightening danced along the panel, fusing the breakers and the pennies as the ship found its strength at long last.
Hartley came running down the corridor, panting as he looked at the former Imperial Chancellor standing lit by the crackling arcs of electricity that streamed from one side of the corridor to the other awash in the raw power.
Rikard turned from the generators, as an arc of electricity snapped and crackled its way up his arm, like a spider climbing up the black sharkskin weave of the tunic he was wearing. Rikard's eyes flared a moment as the electricity faded. The generator's sending a shower of sparks across the deck.
"You have full power," Rikard stated simply as he walked down the deck. Smoke rising from the singed jacket he wore, coiling into the pungent aroma of ozone from an electrical fire.
The former chancellor enjoyed the disturbed look on the gormless crewmember, returning to the main cargo bay, and the carefully arrayed rig that connected the Port keys into a starship drive.
It was a tantalizing offer of freedom, after his imprisonment by the Lex Talionis, and the marooning on the planet of temporal doom… all he had to do was flick a few switches, input commands into a computer and depart.
Yet, Z'ræl's prophecy that Galadriel had related to him haunted his thoughts.
"This is not over."
The danger the last Peligian had presented had been felled too easily, for a being that could threaten time itself, to be cut down by a Human wielding spare parts cobbled together into an improvised EMP coil…
The intercom chimed through his thoughts as Galadriel spoke, "the Muwani council have summoned us for their verdict."
Rikard rolled his eyes, reaching for his overcoat, walking down the cargo ramp to the hangar deck below, joining Katz's crew as they assembled on the deck. Katz issuing his usual pointless orders to station marine guards to cover the hangar bay, and to protect their escape back to the T'zaht.
Rikard promptly ignored the pep talk, sinking his hands into his coat pocket, looking troubled and distracted.
"This is not over."
Following behind Katz they worked their way under Muwani guard towards the central hub, and the council chambers. The station wasn't large; the Muwani weren't exactly large to begin with themselves. And to Rikard it was like being accosted by the local chapter of little people, a comment he definitely kept back, saving it until they no longer had a need of their hosts.
Kyr was sitting in the reception hall, looking weary as he sat on the low couches. He offered a small smile to the group as they arrived, looking mildly surprised.
"Where's Galadriel?" He asked, causing Rikard to glance up.
As lost as he had been in his own thoughts, he hadn't bothered to notice that she hadn't accompanied them. He looked expectantly at Katz, who also seemed surprised at the realization that the Kardiac Lieutenant wasn't with them.
Katz reached for his TAC-link as the main council chamber doors swung open and the liaison emerged.
"I am sorry to have kept you waiting," the short and wizened looking creature fumbled with his hands as he bowed first to Captain Katz and then to Doctor Kyr.
Kyr stifled a yawn, "it's okay, and it's only been three days on a couch…"
The Muwani were stunted humanoids, relying upon worker Mechs to do the bulk of their heavier work. It was the machines that supplemented and sustained the diminutive race, allowing them the freedom to develop into thinkers, artisans and of course scientists.
They had already provided advanced replacement parts for the T'zaht, and a pair had offered assistance in reconfiguring the T'zaht's shield system strengthening the emitter outputs to better deal with the heat generated by Gorean plasma weaponry.
Though Katz couldn't quite get past the cat fish appearance of their faces, the drooping slimy appendages, like whiskers that twitched to and fro as they talked, and the redundant fins that assisted the amphibious humanoids when they were in water.
Their hierarchy seemed dependant on the colour of their semi translucent skin, the senior Muwani were a golden orange, while lower flunkies, like the one the council had sent to address them, were a dull bronzed-blue.
There was a clanking, back behind the main doors to the ante-chamber, as a pair of workerbots scuttled in on their spindly legs, taking up positions by the doors, heavy plasma cannons lowered.
Rikard's eyes narrowed as he turned his head slightly to observe them, and then back at the Muwani before him. "You are about to make a terrible mistake…" he warned.
"We have been accommodating, Captain Katz," The liaison said looking at the Imperial Captain. "And we will continue to be so if you co-operate. You and your compatriots are free to leave, however the Gorean we have contacted has specifically requested the arrest of some of your passengers."
Chuck's hand strayed towards his pistol, as Killborne and her marines tensed, cocking their pulse rifles. Katz moved his hands up, to the twinned heavy pistols in the dual shoulder rig.
Lab - HMS T'zaht - Muwani Space Station - Gorean Territory
~~*~~
Galadriel stood staring down the dual barrels of a large workerbot that was standing in the doorway to her lab, keeping her covered as its radio antenna trilled and beeped, relaying that the prisoner was secure.
She glanced towards the work table, where her pulse pistol was sitting in its holster. If she moved quickly she might be able to reach it. However, plasma weapons were designed to inflict splash damage, and in a room as small as the lab, the bot's plasma guns could easily saturate everything in liquid hot plasma, incinerating her, her work and setting the T'zaht on fire.
The bot stepped aside, as Muwani leader with his distinctive orange-gold complexion, walked into the room his disruptor drawn and trained upon her. "I am sorry Madam, but I place you under arrest by the command of the Gorean Lord…"
"I'd suggest you don't do that," Galadriel warned. "You have no idea what you are dealing with…"
"His Watchful Eye sees all," the Muwani stated coldly. "We have known who you were the moment you entered the system, and we are aware of what you are carrying." He looked towards the glinting green crystal shard secure in its container.
"How?" Galadriel demanded, as her shoulders sagged. "His Watchful Eye has a spy aboard the T'zaht…"
"His eyes are everywhere," The Muwani leader sighed reluctantly. "We have no choice in this, if we don't hand you over to the Gorean Lord, we will suffer a horrible fate."
"There is always a choice," Galadriel said, raising her hands and surrendering.
Council Ante-chamber - Muwani Space Station - Gorean Territory
~~*~~
"Rikard?" Katz asked easing the weapons in their holsters as he eyed the twin bots that were more than capable of cooking the entire group.
Rikard stared coldly at the Muwani liaison, "do you have any idea of what I can do to you?"
"His Watchful Eye sees all Mister Denver," the Liaison stated flatly, as a hatch in the ceiling irised open and a small, round device resembling a flying gyro-scope dropped down to hover and trill over the Muwani's head. "It took time for our top scientists to develop a counter measure to your formidable capabilities, but we were supplied with detailed plans by the Gorean Lord who has placed such a significant bounty on your head."
"Well if you are just after Mister Denver here," Katz stated relaxing slightly. "I am sure we can accommodate something…"
"China…" Rikard stated in a warning tone.
"I wish it were that simple," the Muwani said calmly. "However his Lordship has made it clear that a similar bounty is on Doctor Cornelius Kyr. We must take both…"
Katz drew both of his pistols in a single fluid motion, training one on the bots, while the other sat squarely trained on the Muwani liaison. Around him the Marines took aim as well, Chuck stepping protectively in front of Kyr, positioning himself between the doctor and the bots.
"Uh uh," Katz shook his head. "No deal."
Rikard folded his arms, "sure you protect him…"
"Can you do anything?" Katz asked cautiously as yet more worker bots scuttled their way into the room from other doors, surrounding the group.
Rikard looked distant, and then calmly shrugged, "I am quite helpless it appears. They are using Ophanim rings, though if one of you would be so kind as to shoot that little device, I am sure that will change…"
Hartley swung his rifle up to train on the bobbing device, "on your order, Skip."
"If you open fire," the liaison warned, "my bots will have no choice but to fire as well. And we will all die in the resulting conflagration of plasma fire."
"Are you willing to risk it China?" Rikard asked, with a tense smile.
Katz lowered his pistols, glancing at the men and women around him, knowing that if he gave the order, no matter how much he wanted to. They would all die. He swallowed and shook his head.
"An excellent choice Captain Katz." The Liaison snapped his fingers, "take the Captain and his crew back to his ship and let them go. We have no use for them and the Council wishes to avoid antagonizing the Empire by murdering one of their crews. You will depart this sector of space as quickly as you can, but be warned that the Gorean Imperium will hunt you ruthlessly once you are clear of our protection."
"Thanks," Katz stated sarcastically.
Cargo bay - HMS T'zaht - Muwani Space Station - Gorean Territory
~~*~~
They had been relieved of their weapons and returned to the T'zaht, where Wheeler had been waiting for them on the boarding ramp. The young pilot looking tense as the worker bots descended past the crew, escorting Galadriel with the crystal shard in a Plexiglas container.
"That wasn't part of the deal," Katz said forcefully, as he took a step out of line.
One of the workerbots pivoted its torso, the plasma cannons locking into place.
"I would refrain from any action that would jeopardize your deal," the Muwani leader stated as he swaggered arrogantly down the ramp, his disruptor drawn and levelled.
"This deal stinks," Katz snarled.
"As soon as I am clear of this room," the Muwani leader stated gesturing to the bay. "I will depressurize the bay. I suggest you be on your way at that point."
Katz stepped back into line, watching as the bots descended the ramp, Killborne and her Marines rushing to the weapons lockers and breaking out a new round of pulse rifles, quickly rearming themselves.
"Orders Captain?" she asked as she tucked a helmet on her head.
"Button her up," Katz gestured to Hartley, who complied tapping controls to seal the ramp. He turned and marched across the cargo bay of his ship, his face grimly determined. "They have to transfer the prisoners at some point, and we need time to get clear, check the T'zaht to see if they left us any surprises… and plan a rescue operation." He was surprised at how clearly he was thinking, despite the seething anger deep inside of him at their betrayal.
"Chuck fire up the drives and get use clear of the Muwani scanner rangers, but keep us close enough that ours operate. We're going to have to be ready to track any traffic into and out of the system." Katz walked towards the cargo bay doors. "We aren't done yet."