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Stark, surprising himself and his companions, didn’t start truly panicking immediately. Maybe it was taking some time for the announcement of their upcoming trial and execution to sink in. Maybe he was just too tired. Whatever the case, he’d gone completely silent when the blaring announcements ended. Not even a whimper.
Rygel was also being uncharacteristically quiet. Or he was until the door suddenly opened revealing 2 Hynerian guards carrying weapons confiscated from the cell’s occupants and 3 women carrying food.
“Chow time!” the first guard called out, brandishing Jothee’s qualta blade.
“Don’t try nothin’ funny,” the second said. “The Dominar wants you to die in public but I don’t think he’ll cry no tears if we gotta kill you here.”
“Mark my words, Hynerian, I will pry that blade from your dead hands,” Jothee growled.
“Shut up, halfbreed. This is a Luxan weapon. If you’re lucky, before you die tomorrow, I’ll give you half of it back since that’s all you deserve.”
Jothee growled again in response but was cut off by the Hynerian women pushing their way past the guards to stand in front of Rygel. “Oh your highness! How awful it is to see you like this!” “We have brought marjools for your royal stomachs! Let me feed you!” “You must be tired from your ordeal. Let me stroke your ears.”
Chiana gaped at the three of them. “You called him ‘your highness’?”
“He is still a Rygel,” the women responded, scandalized. “He is of royal blood and deserves respect.” “I wouldn’t expect such as you to understand these things.” “If you wish, your highness, you may rest your head in my lap while I-”
“Enough!” Rygel shouted, flinging a food bowl back at their captors. “I will not be treated as if I were some sort of fahrbot invalid!”
“But your highness,” the women responded, “ we don’t understand! This is how you were always treated!”
“You have no idea,” Rygel said, “what I’ve endured all these cycles I’ve been gone while that yotz Bishan sits on my throne! And to come back here and have you coddle me!” The guards burst out laughing. Rygel advanced on them, shouting now. “Get away from me you feckless idiots!”
Stark glanced up at the shouting then dropped his head back down almost immediately when Chiana and Jothee attempted to calm Rygel down. He wasn’t going to be any use calming anyone else down. It was all he could do to keep himself from screaming.
“Shouldn’t have gotten all huffy, your stupidness,” the guards sneered on their way out. “That was your last meal you knocked on the floor. Guess you’ll die hungry, huh?”
“Don’t count on it,” Jothee growled back. “This time tomorrow you’ll be the one dead and we’ll be long gone. That’s a promise.”
Chiana shot Jothee a look then turned her attention back to Rygel. “You ok, Ryg?”
“Frelling yotzes, treating me as if I were some insubstantial wisp of a thing!”
“I thought that was what you missed the most,” Chiana said.
“Shut up!” Rygel snapped.
“All right, sorry,” Chiana said, hands up as she backed off. “Okay, Jothee, what’s your plan? You’ve got a plan, right?”
“Getting out is the whole plan so far,” Jothee admitted.
Chiana sighed. Rygel snorted. Stark didn’t react at all.
“Right,” Chiana said. “We can only hope that Moya picked up that broadcast Rygel’s cousin made, which means right now Crichton and Aeryn have to come up with a rescue plan.”
“We’re in bigger trouble than I thought,” Jothee said, forcing a smile.
“Don’t worry, Jothee. Crichton’s plans aren’t always the best but he usually gets results.”
“Usually, huh? Great. I feel better already.”
Stark remained silent. He was listening. He just had nothing to say. Maybe Crichton and Aeryn would come. Maybe they could escape. And maybe they would all die here, unmourned.
[NFB because there are no squirrels in space, NFI because the saddest alien remains in a prison cell thinking he’s going to die soon. Because his life is extremely terrible. Adapted from "The Beginning of the End of the Beginning: Dungeons and Dominars."]
Rygel was also being uncharacteristically quiet. Or he was until the door suddenly opened revealing 2 Hynerian guards carrying weapons confiscated from the cell’s occupants and 3 women carrying food.
“Chow time!” the first guard called out, brandishing Jothee’s qualta blade.
“Don’t try nothin’ funny,” the second said. “The Dominar wants you to die in public but I don’t think he’ll cry no tears if we gotta kill you here.”
“Mark my words, Hynerian, I will pry that blade from your dead hands,” Jothee growled.
“Shut up, halfbreed. This is a Luxan weapon. If you’re lucky, before you die tomorrow, I’ll give you half of it back since that’s all you deserve.”
Jothee growled again in response but was cut off by the Hynerian women pushing their way past the guards to stand in front of Rygel. “Oh your highness! How awful it is to see you like this!” “We have brought marjools for your royal stomachs! Let me feed you!” “You must be tired from your ordeal. Let me stroke your ears.”
Chiana gaped at the three of them. “You called him ‘your highness’?”
“He is still a Rygel,” the women responded, scandalized. “He is of royal blood and deserves respect.” “I wouldn’t expect such as you to understand these things.” “If you wish, your highness, you may rest your head in my lap while I-”
“Enough!” Rygel shouted, flinging a food bowl back at their captors. “I will not be treated as if I were some sort of fahrbot invalid!”
“But your highness,” the women responded, “ we don’t understand! This is how you were always treated!”
“You have no idea,” Rygel said, “what I’ve endured all these cycles I’ve been gone while that yotz Bishan sits on my throne! And to come back here and have you coddle me!” The guards burst out laughing. Rygel advanced on them, shouting now. “Get away from me you feckless idiots!”
Stark glanced up at the shouting then dropped his head back down almost immediately when Chiana and Jothee attempted to calm Rygel down. He wasn’t going to be any use calming anyone else down. It was all he could do to keep himself from screaming.
“Shouldn’t have gotten all huffy, your stupidness,” the guards sneered on their way out. “That was your last meal you knocked on the floor. Guess you’ll die hungry, huh?”
“Don’t count on it,” Jothee growled back. “This time tomorrow you’ll be the one dead and we’ll be long gone. That’s a promise.”
Chiana shot Jothee a look then turned her attention back to Rygel. “You ok, Ryg?”
“Frelling yotzes, treating me as if I were some insubstantial wisp of a thing!”
“I thought that was what you missed the most,” Chiana said.
“Shut up!” Rygel snapped.
“All right, sorry,” Chiana said, hands up as she backed off. “Okay, Jothee, what’s your plan? You’ve got a plan, right?”
“Getting out is the whole plan so far,” Jothee admitted.
Chiana sighed. Rygel snorted. Stark didn’t react at all.
“Right,” Chiana said. “We can only hope that Moya picked up that broadcast Rygel’s cousin made, which means right now Crichton and Aeryn have to come up with a rescue plan.”
“We’re in bigger trouble than I thought,” Jothee said, forcing a smile.
“Don’t worry, Jothee. Crichton’s plans aren’t always the best but he usually gets results.”
“Usually, huh? Great. I feel better already.”
Stark remained silent. He was listening. He just had nothing to say. Maybe Crichton and Aeryn would come. Maybe they could escape. And maybe they would all die here, unmourned.
[NFB because there are no squirrels in space, NFI because the saddest alien remains in a prison cell thinking he’s going to die soon. Because his life is extremely terrible. Adapted from "The Beginning of the End of the Beginning: Dungeons and Dominars."]