Farscape s01e04 Episode Script

Throne for a Loss

Crichton: Fine, yes, you're right.
We know almost nothing about the Tavloids.
Tavleks.
Whatever.
Tavloid, Tavlek.
We do know that they will pay us to haul cargo which they're not going to do if you go in there doing your John Wayne impression.
John Wayne? Who's that? A relative? John Wayne? The big guy.
True Grit, The Searchers, The Cowboys, Genghis Khan.
Look, forget about Genghis Khan everybody makes a bad movie but the point is No.
The point is, I'm not going to meet that shuttle unarmed.
It's as simple as that.
Kung Fu Kung Fu never carried a gun.
We, Rygel the 16th, Dominar of the Hynerian Empire and beloved sovereign of over welcome to our yacht.
I still say it's a bad idea.
I should be taller.
It's tall enough already.
I need them to look up to me.
Why? we don't.
Well, you should.
If it wasn't for me, we'd starve.
On Porzin Two, it was I All you got was stale food cubes.
Which you ate more than your fair share of, as I recall.
Who are you to order me around? Order? I was offering a suggestion.
Well, who are you to offer suggestions? Am I the only species in creation that doesn't thrive on conflict? All of you, shut up.
Yes, that's right.
Shut up.
Now, the Tavleks believe "Shut up" includes you.
Now, we don't even know what this Tavlek cargo is.
It could be contraband, vermin-infested, even toxic.
Well, let's hope so.
We could charge more.
D'argo, we've had this discussion.
You were outvoted.
Oh, argue later.
They've docked.
Positions, please.
Come on now.
If you must address me, do so as your Supreme Eminence.
Which you should be doing anyway.
No movement.
Remain where you are.
Move and you die.
Try me.
You you've misunderstood What do you think you're doing? I demand someone help me! D'argo, look out.
Someone put a stop to this! You'll pay for And now you die.
Crichton: Yo, buttkiss! Cover me.
I'll get the Dominar.
Pilot, shut the door! Rygel: Unhand me! Please! Please! How does it work? Junk! Where's Rygel? D'Argo: Junk! Our Supreme Eminence has been bagged.
My name is John Crichton, an astronaut a radiation wave hit and I got shot through a wormhole Now I'm lost in some distant part of the universe on a ship-- a living ship Full of strange alien life-forms Help me, help me Listen, please.
Is there anybody out there who can hear me? I'm being hunted by an insane military commander doing everything I can I'm just looking for a way home.
Pilot, get a tractor beam on that shuttle! Trakterbeem? What's that? Graviton field, attracto-ray, super glue Whatever it is you yanked me aboard with.
You mean the docking web.
Fine, use it on the shuttle.
It's out of range.
Well, then go after it.
Correction, Pilot.
Break orbit and take us away from this wretched planet.
Take us away? They've got Rygel.
Rygel brought this on himself.
I say we leave him there.
Let Crichton finish.
Look, enough talk.
We are leaving now.
Th-that can't be normal.
H-how did you do that? It just happened.
Wait.
That is a very versatile and powerful weapon.
If we can work out how to use it What is this? Is it injecting something into you? It stuck some needles in my arm.
Oh, no, that can't be good.
Take it off.
Let go of me! D'argo This ship needs a leader, and none of you have what it takes.
From now on, I am in charge.
Never lay your hands on me again.
You go after him.
I'll revive the boy.
Crichton: D'argo, would you wait? No.
I'm giving the orders now.
D'argo, just listen.
He's not good at listening, is he? Well, he'll listen to this.
Aeryn, no.
Would you listen? (sniffing) Take it easy, child.
Child?! Don't be afraid.
We won't hurt you.
Speak for yourself.
That weapon of yours.
How do we get it off? You mean one of you was stupid enough to put it on? You're too weak to handle it.
Why? what is that stuff it pumps in you? A stimulant.
Adds to our strength.
A stimulant? It's a little more than cappuccino, pal.
Our friend just tried to kill us.
Good.
How do we remove it? You can't.
Well, it came off when I knocked you out.
That'd make sense.
If you're left unconscious in battle you don't want the enemy cutting your arm off to get your weapon.
Hmm.
You can be disarmed without having to be dis-armed.
Great.
So what do we got that can knock D'argo out? Stun gun? Gas grenade? Sleep mist.
I can formulate one.
Was that necessary? It felt good.
Give me navigation, now.
But we can't leave orbit Do as I say or I'll rip off all your arms.
Enough of this stupid voting.
From now on, I'll make the decisions.
Don't even think about it.
Unless we leave orbit D'argo's actually threatening to injure me.
Stall him.
Tell him there's a systems malfunction or something.
I told him that but he doesn't believe me.
In fact, he Hold on.
Transmission from the planet.
Bekhesh: We've got your king.
You can buy him back.
Aeryn: We've got your boy, and if you want him back undamaged Whoa! Ho! How about an even swap? No.
He's part of the price, but he's not worth a king.
We want corvinium, purity nine.
Enough to fill your transport hangar.
This hangar? Divided among 600 billion affluent subjects it's not so much.
You won't get it.
Pilot: D'argo's getting angrier.
Do something.
Look, this isn't a good time.
How about we call you back? Bekhesh: No.
We'll contact you in one solar day.
If your homeworld hasn't agreed to our terms by then your king dies.
John, it's finished.
Check it out.
It's a water balloon.
Here.
What? Oh, you think you can throw it with any accuracy? Yeah.
I grew up with these things.
Excellent.
Lock him away.
Well, I suppose we must.
Come.
Pilot, get Moya moving.
I told you, I can't.
You're lying.
You're all undermining my command Crichton: Good night, sweet prince.
Uh-oh.
(growling) This way.
Oh, is that another suggestion of yours? Pilot, on my signal give me all the acceleration Moya's got.
No.
I can't activate propulsion.
Moya has a systems malfunction.
For real? Propulsion control is completely out.
I've had to shut down and vent manually.
The ship's excess supercoolant has to be released.
Look, we're wasting time here.
Wait.
Wait, just wait.
Close all the vents.
I can't do that.
The pressure could build to dangerous levels.
No, it won't.
I got a plan.
I'm not afraid of you.
You're soft and weak.
Pilot: Zhaan? Yes? Soft, yes.
Weak, no.
What was that, Pilot? Secure for acceleration.
Crichton has an idea.
(sighs): Did you say Crichton? Pa'u delvia, kolmot gorr tibnol.
D'Argo: Come out from where you're hiding, you cowards.
Cool it.
Now.
D'argo.
D'Argo: Peacekeeper coward! (breathing heavily) Now.
You challenge my command Now.
Do it to my face.
-Do it now! -We'll see who's left standing.
(groaning) That was your plan? Yeah.
Worked pretty good.
Oh, barely.
That is the last time I go along with one of your plans.
Fine! Next time you get to make the plan.
Rygel: I demand to speak to whoever's in charge.
I will not be treated like this.
How dare you bury me in mud.
Are you listening? You're nothing but barbarians.
Don't you know this is an act of war?! When my council hears of this the Hynerian Navy will scorch this hellhole! Hmm, that should get them thinking.
Jotheb: My sleep cycle has been disturbed.
As if I give a garanta's brax! Who are you? Jotheb Next in succession to preside over the Consortium of Trao.
And you? Dominar Rygel the 16th, ruler of the Hynerian Empire.
The Hynerian empire is not familiar to me.
Yeah? Well, I never heard of the Consortium of Trao.
The imperfection is yours.
How big is it? Ten thousand.
Ha! Ha! I have six hundred billion subjects! Ten thousand planets, each averaging per planet four billion Trao.
I don't believe you.
The imperfection is yours.
This malfunction is Rygel's fault? Pilot: That's right.
He asked if he could borrow a vital component of Moya's control circuitry just for a while.
And you let him? Certainly not.
I flatly forbade it.
What did he want it for? He said it was important to impress our visitors.
Impress? How is a control circuit going to impress somebody? Oh, Moya's synaptic processors are quite attractive objects.
trillions of silico-neurons suspended in a semi-organic crystalline matrix.
Crystal no Reddish crystal? About that big? Yes.
His scepter.
The little hair ball took it to decorate his scepter.
I'm going to kill him.
How long can Moya maintain orbit without the crystal? Her orbit's deteriorating even now.
I'll torture him, then I'll kill him.
Zhaan? Can't you rouse D'argo? No.
He's not injured, but he's sleeping off the drug.
There's no telling when he'll awaken.
I can't wait for him.
Pilot, prepare the Prowler.
Very well.
Come on.
You're not going down there? If we don't get that crystal back we're going to crash into the planet.
I've got a plan.
Oh, no, please, let me guess.
Your plan.
Jam down to the planet, conduct a commando-style raid against what? A couple of dozen heavily-armed Tavloids and then haul ass back up to the ship.
Tavleks.
That's your plan? Wile E.
Coyote would come up with a better plan than that! You're just going to go down there by yourself? No, of course not.
You're coming with me.
Oh, in your dreams I'm coming with you.
This is my turn.
My plan.
Now, let's go.
No.
Absolutely not.
There are other things that we can do.
We can try negotiating with the Tavloids Tavleks.
Aeryn: Has Moya located the Tavlek shuttle? No.
Her sensors can't penetrate the jungle canopy.
Too many chloroferric compounds in the vegetation.
Pilot says we can reconfigure the sensors.
Even if you can't, I'm following the same trajectory their shuttle did and I should land reasonably close to them.
We can negotiate with the You hit me.
Hit? I No, a Panthak jab.
You were more susceptible than most.
Next time you hit me make sure that I don't wake up.
(clicking tongue): Oh Oh, don't (clicking tongue) me.
This is not over with.
And when it is, you and I are going to sit down and have a serious talk.
Sure.
When this is over, you and I will probably be dead.
Care for some food? I'm not hungry.
Are you in discomfort? What kind of fastener is this? Where's my clothes? I want them back now.
We had to borrow them.
Had to? Or did you just want to strip me? What's the matter? Too prim to sneak a peak? You afraid you might like what you saw? You ever looked at a male before, huh? Well, here you go.
Quite respectable for your age.
Did you think you'd shock me? Is nudity a taboo in your culture? Are you ashamed of your bodies? Well, we would be if we looked like you.
I doubt it.
Are you sure you're not hungry? (quietly): No.
Before we landed, I saw signs of an encampment past that ridge.
(grunts) You shanghai my ass down here.
Now you want me to lead? Give me one good reason.
Lots of reasons.
Land mines, fire snakes, razor grass, night-vision snipers, morlian death spiders (grunting) (stomach growling) Jotheb: That dreadful noise is what? That's my stomach.
What of it? You have failed to dine? My meal was just delivered.
(grunts) They fed you first? I don't want any food anyway.
I want out.
There must be a way.
There's always a way.
Our captors may be annoyed by escape attempts.
We just can't lie around waiting to be ransomed.
We have to push! (grunting) Rygel: Here! Let me show you.
You don't have to worry, Jotheb.
When my fleet arrives, it'll lay waste to this planet.
Anyone who defends Bekhesh will be killed but anyone who helps us will, uh Your rations.
(nervous chuckle) You see? First you give them something to think about and then you Ah! Is there a problem? This bowl.
It's a skull.
That can be no one you knew.
Ah, excuse me, will you? Stop looking at me.
Hey, hey! Tentacles off! Tentacles off! What do you think you're doing? It was unwanted by you.
Doesn't mean you can have it.
(groaning softly) Feeling better? He insists on helping us adjust the sensors despite his fatigue.
Only because you'll do it wrong.
(angry grunt) If you need more rest No, no.
I, uh (wearily): I need to do something.
Make myself useful.
Your assistance would be welcomed.
Enjoying yourself? Oh, yeah.
Marching through a smelly, bug-infested jungle.
If this is your idea of a good time, I bet you don't get a lot of second dates.
(guns fire) Hand me the oculars.
What? Aeryn: Hunting party.
They've made a kill.
I say we follow them.
They might lead us back to their camp, back to Rygel.
We don't have time to let them lead us back to their camp.
I'm going to have to force them to tell me where Rygel is.
Force them? How are you going to force them? There's one of you and three of them.
(metallic whirring) Whew.
Are you nuts? After what that thing did to D'argo, we agreed only as a last resort.
Besides, if we go in there blazing I'm going in.
You're staying here.
(grunts) This won't take long.
When I get back, you can put me under and remove the gauntlet.
The minute you get back.
(sighs) Your pardon.
I'm on my way back to Bekhesh but I seem to have gotten my bearings confused.
You mean you're lost.
Yeah, okay, I'm lost.
Find your own way back.
We're busy.
(yells and grunts) (gagging) All right, I'll ask again.
Where's Bekhesh? Crichton: Come on, Aeryn.
Crichton: They're getting up.
Follow the outcropping around (soft, high-pitched whining) What the hell? (loud droning) Oh, shit! (Crichton yelling) (explosion) We're under attack! Get to cover! Move! This way! Pilot, are you sure those reconfigured sensors are working? That looked like an explosion.
It was.
Also picking up weapons fire.
Didn't take them long to get into trouble.
Ready a transport.
Oh, what happened? Wait.
Where's the rifle? All over the place.
Am I bleeding? You blew up the rifle? It's not like I meant to.
Damn thing malfunctioned or something.
Or you overloaded the pulse chamber.
Just-just drop it.
Let's move before they find us.
It's all right.
I'll take them all on.
Aeryn, move.
Stop.
I'm going! Bekhesh: Jotheb, message from your people.
Two days till your ransom arrives.
You're free to go once it shows up.
Hey! Hey! What about me? Keep silent, Rygel.
What about you? I demand better treatment.
You dare serve me with this grotesquery of a bowl? My apologies your Eminence.
I should think so.
So, Jotheb, your subjects came up with your ransom? It was not in doubt.
Why? Yours will not? Absolutely.
Who says they won't? Ah, there you are.
Now, what have you got for me? An extra helping.
Any more trouble and it'll be your skull that serves as someone's bowl.
(anguished yelling) (groaning) Get out! (grunts) I can help you.
I-I don't want your help! You're in no condition to choose.
This should relieve the symptoms of withdrawal.
And this will remove the pain.
I can't eat this.
I couldn't eat this.
I mustn't eat this.
Hmm Maybe it has another use.
Hmm In what way, friend Rygel? Loosening up the soil.
Right.
The camp should be just up ahead.
I'm going to enjoy this.
No.
No, you're not going anywhere near there.
Not till we get that gauntlet off.
-No! -Yes! You agreed.
Only as long as it was necessary.
And it is necessary.
Bekhesh is still breathing.
Aeryn, that gauntlet is messing with your head.
No, it's not.
I am going to take out every last Tavlek.
No survivors, no mercy.
Now give me the oculars! Fine.
I believe you and I have some business first.
Oh, yes.
You called me a coward, and you'll die for that.
Your gauntlet against my Qualta Blade? D'Argo: You truly are cowardly.
Can't you defeat me without your weapons? What a barbarian.
Okay, so you'll die more slowly.
(yelling) (hissing) Nice blanket you got there, D'argo.
A lumpy blanket.
Get her off.
(grunting) Jotheb? A little help? Help? Of what sort? Pull.
(grunting) (grunting) Pull.
Maybe around the throat isn't a good idea.
Rygel: Yes, that's it.
Yes! (grunting): That did it! I'm free! (grunting) Jotheb: Rygel, look out! Rygel! No, no, no, don't! (gasping) Bekhesh, you're killing him.
Yes, you're right.
(gasping and grunting) Why was he killed? Why not? Who'd pay to get him back? The Consortium of Trao will.
There's truth to my words, Bekhesh.
I will prove his value.
(coughing) The fame of Dominar Rygel has spread even to my worlds.
If the ransom is not paid by his people it will be paid by mine.
(coughing) I could always kill him again.
(wheezing) (grunting) Lie still.
You're wiped out.
The gauntlet has drained you.
Oh? You called me a coward.
-You called me a barbarian.
-Well, you are.
Well, perhaps "coward" is too good a word for a Peacekeeper.
Both of you, knock it off.
You didn't mean what you said.
It was the gauntlet talking.
I meant everything I said.
Yeah, so did I.
You also mean everything you did? You attacked us, tried to take over the ship and you, you're ready to slaughter every Tavloid on the planet anyway.
-Tavlek.
-Tavlek.
Whatever.
The gauntlet brings out the real you, both of you think long and hard about therapy.
I'm going to go check things out.
Play nice while I'm gone.
Has the pain ceased? Hmm That stimulant in your gauntlet, it must have been extremely addictive.
But once your body purifies the hunger for the drug should pass.
Look, I don't need a damn sermon.
I didn't ask for your help so keep your speeches to yourself.
But about the gauntlet, it's not as if I ever had any choice.
There are always choices Look, I told you, I don't need a sermon.
All right, no sermons.
What do you need? Actually, I am a bit hungry.
I hate this.
Does your head hurt? Yes.
Yours? Pounding like a Maxzillian Pilater Day Parade.
I'm so tired.
It took a few hours for me to fully recover, so I imagine for a Sebacean we should probably double that.
Oh, don't be so childish.
Perhaps it took quite a few hours for me to recover.
Crichton should be back by now.
Well, he's probably at the wrong end of some Tavlek weapon somewhere.
Imagine, somewhere out there there's a whole world full of Crichtons.
How useless that must be.
It's amazing he could provide us with some common ground.
Who would have thought there'd be a race more clumsy and pathetic than the Luxans.
Ow! I'm sorry.
You know how clumsy we Luxans can be.
Jotheb: Rygel, you're welcomed into the Consortium of Trao.
Oh, yes.
Well, thank you for the invitation, but I It is not an invitation.
You were killed by Bekhesh and revived by me.
You are, therefore, owned by me, as are your subjects.
Is that so? You're going to pay my ransom, too? The expense is small and billions of Hynerians will be brought into the consortium.
(laughing) You multi-throated moron.
I don't have any subjects.
(growling) How dare you! I was deposed over a hundred cycles ago.
Ransom me if you want but all you'll get is me! Just you? No subjects? No.
Not a one.
My treacherous bastard of a cousin stole my throne and imprisoned me.
I escaped with a few other fugitives and they're the only ones who know I'm here! Won't they ransom you? They couldn't if they wanted to, and they don't want to, because they hate me! Then you will die here.
So why are you laughing?! (sobbing) The camp's pretty deserted.
It looks like most of them are napping.
Go for it now, or wait till nightfall? We don't even know if this planet rotates.
It may never get dark.
This may be our only chance.
Let's go.
No.
You're wiped out.
You stay here.
Two's enough.
Well take the gauntlet, then.
No, no, no, no, no.
No, the damn thing's a menace.
Besides, it'd still be one gauntlet against a whole camp full of them.
If we can't pull this thing off without being spotted, we're screwed.
And what if you are spotted? Cover our retreat.
Well, with what? Well, someone blew up our only weapon.
Take this.
Oh, yes, a sword.
Thank you.
That'll be really helpful.
It is more than just a sword.
(grunting) is it charged? It was, when the Peacekeepers took it from me.
How long ago was that? Eight cycles.
Ah, this food is horrible.
Almost inedible.
You're welcome.
Thank you for being such a gracious guest.
What are you? Older, wiser.
Certainly not as hungry as you.
When I was sick before, sweating and shaking, you did that thing where you When I kissed you? No.
Ah, yes.
When you took the pain away.
How did you do that? I am a Delvian Pa'u.
A priest of the Ninth Level.
We learn to share others' pain.
Tavleks learn how to inflict it.
Yes, I've seen you in action.
Very impressive.
Yes, it was.
We boarded your ship, stole your king.
I was a part of that.
That is who you are when you wear the gauntlet.
But perhaps the real you is Sick of hearing your plok.
That I know for sure.
Have you ever been through anything like this before? Your body being freed of poisons.
Poison? This is the only poison I have in my body.
Why would I want to be free'? Our gauntlet is our food, our blood, our life.
It makes us capable of anything.
I know that is what you believe.
But what I wonder is what you alone are capable of.
(yelling) Sorry.
Offense is not taken.
Hey, check out the critter.
"Critter"? "Critter"? D'Argo: What's your problem? Find Rygel.
Hey! It's the scepter, but where is the crystal? It's gone, and so is Rygel.
Dominar Rygel? He was taken away.
To where? Through my efforts Rygel is believed to be valuable by Bekhesh.
Therefore, Rygel is being moved via shuttle to a more secure location.
Any more secure, and we'll never get that crystal back.
Come on, let's get this guy out of here.
Staying here is my preference.
I am awaiting my release.
Rygel should be informed that his ransom will not be paid by the Consortium of Trao.
His presence has been decided to be too disruptive.
I can dig that.
Fine, I'll tell him.
As you will.
Crichton: Hi.
Uh Where's Bekhesh? We came to discuss the ransom terms.
I think we can reach a deal.
Stand fast.
Right, D'argo? Mmm Go, go, go! (groaning) Good work.
That's how you create a diversion.
It's a fine weapon.
(panting): I request that you bury me with it.
Oh, damn.
Just take it easy.
D'Argo: The blood, what color is it? It's, uh it's dark red, almost black.
(panting) What are you doing? Bleeding freely is the only thing that will help heal the Luxan.
The wound isn't cleansed until the blood flows clear.
D'Argo: Just do it! (Aeryn grunts) (pounding continues) Tired? (mumbles) You need more sleep.
I'll take you back to your quarters.
Pilot: Zhaan, you're needed in the Command.
Quickly, please.
I know my way back.
Pilot: Crichton wants us to scan the area for any signs of the Tavlek shuttle.
I've picked up a shuttle in your area.
It's priming for takeoff.
No more than three minutes.
Location? Delta six, pemno nine, lerg eight.
Is that anywhere near here? Directional vector.
(DRD squeaking) (frantically squeaking) That young savage! He's attacked one of the DRDs.
Where? Maintenance Bay, Lab Section.
Lerg eight there.
We're here.
We'll never cover that ground in three minutes.
You two won't, that's for sure.
Neither can you.
I might, with a little help.
D'Argo: Oh, no.
It's too dangerous.
D'argo's right.
Yeah, yeah, I know.
I'm just nothing but a frail human but we need that gem, so unless one of you two's got a better idea.
Right.
So once I get it on, how do I get it to work? It just, uh does.
Right.
Willpower, like the Green Lantern's ring.
(sighing): Okay, here goes nothing.
(mechanical swishing) (swishing continues) I'm sorry, I I don't feel anything.
In fact, I feel pretty good.
Feel real good.
Oh, right.
It's working.
(door opening) Couldn't sleep? Give that to me.
I need it! Give it to me! Is this the way you repay my help? How would you like your arm torn off? (groaning) (derisive chuckle) You don't scare me.
You don't even have the guts to fight me! (crackling) (groaning) Hear me.
I could rip you apart right now, Khalaan help me, I'd enjoy it, but you know why I don't? Because we're not enemies.
(groans) This is your enemy.
Contemplate that in solitude.
Is it running clear? No, it's still reddish black.
(sighing) Give it up.
Oh, so you'd die without putting up a fight.
Then you're the coward.
(pounding) (groaning) and you're the barbarian.
You're going to have to hit it a lot harder than that to increase the bleeding.
Hmm.
(pounding) (groaning) Again.
(grunting) Okay, let's see what you got.
(Rygel grumbling) Freeze! (groaning) (groaning) (snickering) Rygel: What's going on? Who's out there? Someone answer me! (Rygel grumbling) You didn't kill them.
Guess I'm not that kind of a guy.
Crichton, is that you? Get me out of here.
Shut up, Rygel.
Hand me the bag.
(Rygel groaning) Take him.
(groaning) If you can.
Oh, have it your way.
(groaning) (snickering) Fool.
You'll have to do better than that.
(swishing) Just watch me.
(whirring) (sighs) (clears throat) Hey, Bekhesh, how about we call this thing a draw? You don't really want Rygel anyway.
Why don't I? Because, uh, he's not really a king.
I'm not? He's not? He's an escaped mental patient; delusions of royalty.
You're the mental patient if you expect anybody'd to believe that I Oh! He's not insane.
I could be.
Okay, right, yeah.
No, he's not insane, but, uh, he is sick.
(coughing) He's very sick.
Very contagious.
You ever hear of chicken pox? He's not sick.
Right, he's not sick, but he but he is worthless.
No one is going to pay his ransom.
The Consortium of Trao will.
No they won't.
I just talked to your other prisoner the four-throated cat? They're not going to do it.
What, do you blame them? Rygel is an obnoxious gas-bag and who's going to shell out for that? He's right.
I'm unloved, unwanted, unpopular (weakly): unconscious.
Look, Bekhesh, we couldn't pay your ransom if we wanted to.
Rygel lied to impress you.
We got nothing.
No corvinium? No corvinium, no gold, no jewels, no munitions.
You don't believe me call my ship.
Talk to your boy.
Your leader wishes to speak with you.
(beeping) Bekhesh.
You've spent time with them.
Tell me, are they wealthy? Have you seen any riches onboard? I won't lie for you.
No one's asked you to.
I've seen much of their ship.
It's pathetic.
They have no riches and all they have to eat is food cubes.
Are they forcing you to say that? If they mistreated you in any way? You just say the word, and I'll re-take their ship and slaughter the lot of them.
No, they haven't mistreated me.
In fact, they've been trying to help me.
Help you? Why? I don't really know.
(beeps) Perhaps I like to offer choices.
Suppose I still don't believe you? Then you might as well shoot us all because I've told you the truth.
It's been so long since anyone's told me the truth, I don't recognize it anymore.
(Rygel whimpering) Take this royal pain out of my sight.
(Rygel screaming) (Rygel groaning) (coughing) Where's the you-know-what? I knew you wouldn't come back just for me.
What'd you do with it? It's safe and sound.
Did you swallow it?! Swallow it? Yes, yes.
Which means you're going to have to take me back as I am or disembowel me here.
Don't you tempt me, fluffy.
Whoa (exhausted): Well am I to live or die? Die but not today.
Rygel: Hurry up, Crichton.
Crichton: Shut up, Rygel.
(Rygel grumbling) Piece of cake.
(groaning) (Rygel yelling) (Rygel coughing, groaning) (Rygel grunting) Rygel, hurry up.
Rygel: You can come in if you want to.
No! No, you, uh you just, uh, get a move on.
(Rygel grunting, spits loudly) Rygel: Well, I don't see why you're so upset.
I would have put it right back if those savages hadn't kidnapped me.
I did wash it.
Well, I think I did.
(humming mischievously) (screen whirring) Curious how you're doing.
Kyr: Much better now that I have the gauntlet back on.
My choice.
(whirring) No sermons.

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