[MiSTing] Llanas Trilogy, Part II: "Proposition" (2 of 2)
Kaitou Juliet
the theater.]
Tom: Joel, I have a question.
Joel: This isn't about plot contrivances again, is it, Tom? Because
you're just going to blow a fuse if you keep worrying about those.
Tom: No. Actually, I keep thinking "Proposition" must have some kind of
double meaning here, but I can't quite figure it out.
Joel: If we had a dictionary, we could look it up.
Crow: We don't have a--wait a minute! Maybe Orac knows!
Joel: Good idea, Crow. [He turns Orac on.] Orac, do you have a
dictionary in your memory?
Orac: I have dictionaries in 483 ancient and modern languages stored in
my databanks.
Joel: Well, we were wondering: what does the word "proposition" mean?
Orac: Proposition, verb, transitive, from Latin "propositio": To propose
a private bargain to, especially to propose sexual relations with.
Crow: Oh, like Servalan and Avon!
Orac: Proposition, noun. 1. The act of setting or placing before; the
act of offering. 2. That which is proposed; that which is offered,
as for consideration, acceptance, or adoption; a proposal; as, the
enemy made propositions of peace; his proposition was not accepted.
Tom: Like Servalan and Avon again. I get it.
Joel: Thanks, Orac.
Orac: 3. A statement of religious doctrine; an article of faith; creed.
Joel: Okay, I think we....
Orac: 4. In grammar and logic, a complete sentence, or part of a
sentence consisting of a subject and predicate united by a
copula...
Joel: That's nice, Orac...
Orac: ...a thought expressed or propounded in language; a form of speech
in which a predicate is affirmed or denied of a subject; as, snow
is white.
Joel: [gives up] Let's see how the Brady Bunch is doing.
[Orac continues to talk as Joel taps the Mads' Light.]
[Deep 13. In the foreground, Frank sits in a chair while Vila is working
on his mask with sandpaper. In the background, Dr. Forrester is showing
Avon around the lab, while Tarrant is still diligently searching for
Orac.]
Vila: This is going to take forever, you know. I still think you should
let me try cutting it off.
Frank: No, keep going. That feels nice.
[Vila shrugs and goes back to sanding.]
Tarrant: [lifting a rug and looking underneath] Orac?
[Dr. Forrester and Avon move forward.]
Dr. F: [gesturing] And this is the screen where I can monitor my
experiments on the satellite...
[Avon peers into the camera, then suddenly turns back to Dr. Forrester
suspiciously.]
Avon: [pointing to the screen] Dr. Forrester, I do believe *that* is
my computer, which you just claimed to know nothing about!
Dr. F: Why, I...I *don't* know anything about Orac!
Avon: Aha, but you know it's called Orac!
Dr. F: Well, of course I do! You've been yelling about it ever since you
got here!
Avon: And *you* are responsible for...those people, aren't you?
Dr.F: Well, if that is the computer you've been whining about, why don't
you take a shuttle up there and get it?
[Avon grins at Dr. F, but his eyes are murderous.]
Avon: [softly] Oh, you'd like me to do that, wouldn't you?
Dr. F: Yes, if it'll make you shut up about Orac.
Avon: Very well. Show me where the shuttles are.
Dr. F: The shuttles are right there, just behind the oafy fellow with
the curls...
[The camera follows him as he walks over to an airlock-style door stage
right.]
Tarrant: [looking behind a pile of equipment] Orac?
Avon: Tarrant! This man's found Orac!
[He opens the door, showing the interior of a little shuttle about the
size of a broom closet. Tarrant joins him.]
Tarrant: Really? [Calls in shuttle] Orac?
[Avon quickly shoves Tarrant into the shuttle and closes the door behind
him. Tarrant starts banging on the window.]
Avon: Now then, let's see just what you had in mind!
[Avon presses a large red button marked "Shuttle Launch" on the wall
next to the shuttle door. Tarrant's face disappears from the window.]
[Cut to a scene of a rocket flying up toward the SoL.]
[Deep 13. Dr. F stares at Avon with mouth open, then grins and shakes a
finger at him.]
Dr. F: Ahh, you're a man after my own lack of a heart! [Slaps Avon on the
back. Avon winces.] Come on and have another drink.
Vila: [running onscreen] A drink? Don't mind if I do!
Dr. F: [to Vila] Not you!
[He leaves, arm around Avon's shoulder. Vila shrugs, pulls a flask out of
his pocket, and takes a swig from it.]
[SoL. Lights and sirens start going off as Orac continues to talk.]
Orac: 7. In mathematics, a statement in terms of a truth to be
demonstrated, or of an operation to be performed. Note: It is
called a theorem when it is something to be proved, and a problem
when it is something to be done....
Joel: [Over Orac] Ohhhh, we got PROPOSITION SIIIIGN!
[Joel and the Bots run for the theater. Door sequence]
>
> Tarrant turned his wrist slightly and depressed the button on his
> new communicator bracelet.
Joel: [Button] Oh, I'm so down.
Crow: [Tarrant] Shut up.
> "Vila? Tarrant."
> "Any luck?" Vila's voice inquired from the bracelet.
Joel: Vila's voice has apparently gained an intelligence of its own.
> "None. That's the second time we've searched the unrestricted
> areas."
Tom: Hello! "Unrestricted"?
> "What now? Do you think he's left us?" Vila sounded worried.
Crow: [Vila] I couldn't bear it if he has!
> "No, I don't," Tarrant answered. "If he had even tried, he would
> have been killed. Soolin searched the Landing Bay area and found it
> crawling with Federation guards. I think it's time to turn some
> stones."
Tom: [Tarrant] Likely Avon will be crawling under them.
> "You mean restricted areas?"
Joel: Dingdingdingdingding!
Crow: Ladies and gentlemen, the clue boat has arrived!
> "That's right. You contact Dayna, I'll get Soolin. We've got to
> find him. Out."
Crow: [Vila] Why? This way, there's one girl for each of us!
>
> Avon sat on the couch in his chamber, staring at his hands.
Tom: He decided that he needed a manicure, and maybe some daring red
nail polish!
> He had
> been deep in thought for nearly two hours, trying to decide how to make
> the best of his situation. He knew for a fact that any offers Servalan
> made never quite came to pass.
Joel: And any passes she made never quite came to offer.
> Yet he really had nothing to gain by
> refusing her either. The morality of the situation was unimportant to
> the computer expert--there was no real emotion involved, as far as he
> was concerned.
Crow: It was just cheap sex.
> Either way, he would probably come out dead.
Joel: Wow, she must be good!
> He put aside the unsettling
> thought and began to think out the mechanics of the whole thing.
Tom: What's to think about? He was just doing it with Nehja a day ago!
> He
> quickly put this aside as well.
Crow: The images of himself thusly engaged must be as disturbing for him
as they are for us.
> Avon stood up and walked to the vis-screen. He ran his hand down
> his face and sighed before gently pressing the vis-screen's "on" button.
> Servalan's image was projected on the screen as her voice came
> across the intercom. "Have you reached a decision?" she purred.
> "Yes, I--"
Crow: [Avon] I prefer Pepsi!
> "Shh." She smiled. "I'll be there momentarily." The screen went
> blank.
> Minutes later, Commissioner Sleer stood in Avon's chamber. She was
> still smiling.
Joel: She doesn't really seem to *need* this time with Avon, does she? I
mean, she seems pretty happy as it is...
> "I've decided," Avon began. "I'll do it."
All: Just do it!
> "Oh, good." She approached him, setting a hand on his shoulder.
> "Somehow, I knew you would see it my way."
> "Somehow, so did I."
> "Unfortunately, it won't be as enjoyable for you this time around.
Crow: [Servalan] Neyjha was a lot better in the sack than I am, I'm
afraid.
> That girl was the only Llanian I had. The only other storage units are
> mechanized..."
Crow: [Avon] And why wouldn't I enjoy that?
Tom: [Avon] Oh, so I'll be having sex with you directly, then?
> Avon shivered.
> "But not uncomfortable," Servalan added. "You will be brought to
> the lab in approximately twelve hours."
Tom: [Servalan] Along with an assortment of, er, motivational magazines.
> "In twelve hours..." Avon sat at the couch and stared at his
> hands.
Crow: Noooo! The fic has lapped itself!
Tom: [British] Tonight on "It's the Mind..."
>
> A twelve hours' wait had at first seemed to be eons long to the
> computer expert,
Joel: And the audience.
> but now he found that it had sped by at an alarming
> rate.
Tom: Unlike the story.
> Only minutes remained before he would be brought to the lab. This
> thought gave him an odd feeling in the pit of his stomach.
Crow: [Avon] Strange, I suddenly have this craving for brownies....
> Avon had tried to sleep, but found that he could do nothing but
> think and rethink his decision. To trust Servalan was a foolish
> move--to aid her was suicidal. He had known this before he agreed to
> the terms of her proposition, yet had gone ahead anyway. But still,
> there was a chance...
Tom: ...for some hot sex before they killed him!
> The door opened and two armed Federation guards entered. Avon
> stood.
Crow: [Avon] Well, you're not what I was expecting, but I suppose you'll
do.
> "Come on," one guard said, as he grabbed Avon's arm. The two took
> him out of the room, and began to escort him down the hallway.
> "She's certainly a charmer," the computer expert muttered.
> "Quiet!" the guard ordered.
Joel: Oo, dominance!
> The party turned a corner abruptly and
> went on.
Tom: It used to be a very leftist party, but then it went mainstream.
> Suddenly, a shot rang out,
Joel: A door slammed! A maid screamed! Suddenly, a pirate ship appeared
on the horizon!
> and the guard at Avon's right fell to the
> ground.
Crow: Tad eager, ain't he?
> The computer expert turned to see Tarrant steady his aim for
> another shot.
Tom: Tarrant, this is no time to be drinking whiskey!
> "Avon, down!" Tarrant shouted.
Crow: [Avon] Here? Now? Tarrant, you *animal*!
> Avon ducked and Tarrant killed the
> other guard before he could draw a gun.
Joel: This tragedy could have been prevented with speed-sketching
lessons.
> The computer expert stood up again, staring past Tarrant with
> suddenly empty eyes.
Tom: Apparently, something sucked out Avon's soul while he was on the
ground.
Crow: Wish it would come back for me...
> Tarrant pulled at Avon's sleeve.
Joel: [Tarrant] Please, Avon? Can I? Can I?
> "Come on, Avon!" Avon snapped out
> of his momentary trance
Tom: [Avon] The spirits say you should eat more fiber, Tarrant.
> and ran with Tarrant toward Landing Bay Twelve,
> where their stolen Federation cruiser was docked.
> Upon reaching the Main Terminal, the two discovered that it was
> totally empty,
Crow: Tarrant looked at Avon, Avon at Tarrant. A sly grin played upon
both their faces as--
Joel: Crow, enough!
> as if it had been evacuated.
Tom: Well, duh! If it's empty, then obviously it's been evacuated!
That's what "evacuated" means!
> Soolin, Vila, and Dayna
> rushed in from a door on the opposite end.
> "You found him!" Vila exclaimed. He was carrying Orac, and looked
> more than ready to leave.
> "What's the situation at the Landing Bay?" Tarrant shouted as he
> and Avon ran across the Terminal.
Joel: [Vila] Well, Skye told Cliff that she was leaving him for Roberta,
Lance found out he had a fatal disease, and Sandra continued to
search for her biological mother.
> "It's full of guards," Soolin answered.
Tom: [Soolin] That's where they all evacuated to!
> "We're going to have to
> make a run for it."
> "Wait!" Avon yelled. "We have to go back!"
Joel: [Avon] I haven't kissed Servalan yet! It's in my contract!
> "Are you mad?!" Vila shouted.
Crow: Vila should know better than to ask that by now. The answer is
obviously "yes."
> "What do you mean, 'we have to go
> back'?!"
Tom: [Avon] She might create a superior race with someone else now! I
won't play second fiddle to anyone!
> "The Accelerator. Servalan's got the Llanian Birth and Growth
> Accelerator. We've got to get it, or destroy it."
> "What on earth--" Vila began.
Crow: On Arda One, actually.
> "Why? You don't need it," Tarrant said.
> "Better that I should have the Accelerator than Servalan, wouldn't
> you agree?"
Joel: Hmmm...evil, megalomaniacal Servalan or evil, megalomaniacal Avon?
I'd say it's about even.
> The five ran back toward the center of Terminal Seven.
>
> "Lab! She said 'lab'!"
Crow: Huh huh. She said "lab."
> Avon shouted to his companions as they
> searched the complex, ducking Federation guards along the way.
> "Did she tell you where it was?" Tarrant asked.
> "No, but she was bringing me there when you..."
Tom: Wakachicka? Waka...? [weeps] I'm so confused!
> "Rescued you?" Soolin finished his sentence for him. "What were
> you *doing*, anyway?" Her eyes narrowed.
> Avon glared at her, but remained silent.
Crow: [Avon] That's nobody's business but mine, Missy!
> "Never mind, Soolin," Tarrant said, pointing to a door. "Strange,
> there are no guards here."
Joel: Wasn't it established that they're all in the Landing Bay?
Tom: What kind of supervillain sends all her guards to one place?!
Joel: Plot devices, Tom.
> "They're probably looking for me," Avon said.
Crow: Oh, it's always about *you*, isn't it?
Joel: You're so vain! I'll bet think this fic is about you, don't
you? Don't you?
> He opened the door
> cautiously, immediately shooting the single guard in the room, and
> surprising Servalan, who stood near a table and a small, upright
> machine.
Joel: An ATM?
Crow: A vending machine?
Tom: A reel-to-reel tape recorder?
Crow: Wait! A small *upright* machine--
Joel: Crow, I'm warning you!
> "I see you've changed your mind," Sleer said as the other crew
> members came into the room. "What a shame."
> "I want that machine," Avon said levelly.
Crow: [Avon] And the batteries, too.
> He aimed his gun at the
> Commissioner. "You've lost, Servalan."
Joel: [Avon] All your machine are belong to me.
> He pulled the trigger, promptly
> shooting a hole through the wall.
Tom: [Avon] Drat! Shouldn't've had that whiskey...
> A wicked laugh bounced off the walls and echoed throughout the
> room. "No, Avon. *You* have lost." Sleer's image flickered and faded.
> "I have the machine!" he shouted in desperation.
Joel: [Avon] Which eliminates the need for you entirely, doesn't it?
> "You have a defunct piece of garbage.
Crow: [Sleer] And the machine is useless, too.
> *I* have the main component."
> "No! You're lying!"
Tom: [Avon] I told you to leave *me* the batteries!!
> The voice laughed again. "All right. You have the machine--*all*
> of it, but it is not functional. It never has been.
Tom: Much like the plot of this story.
> It was damaged
> during the Federation invasion of Llanas. I needed your knowledge as
> much, if not more, than anything else. You are the computer expert that
> I needed to repair the sensitive mechanisms in the machine. I had the
> original plans, but not the skill that was necessary.
Joel: [Servalan] The sperm collection bit was just a ruse to get you
here. You don't really think I'd consider *you* half of a master
race, do you?
> I still have the
> plans. So *you* have lost.
Joel: [Sleer] You *are* the weakest link.
> Goodbye, Avon." The image of Sleer faded
> completely, leaving the wicked laughter behind.
Tom: Feeling lonely, it promptly joined Vila's disembodied, but
personable, voice.
> "Come on!" Tarrant said. "I don't think she'll let us get off
Crow: Hasn't she been encouraging that all through this fic? And the
last?
> *that* easily!" He and the others started to leave, and Avon began to
> wheel the machine with him. Tarrant turned to him. "What do you think
> you're doing?! We don't need that thing!"
> "I need it.
Crow: [Avon] I love it! I can't leave it behind!
> I'm going to bring it back!" Avon answered.
Tom: [Avon] It's overdue at the library and I'll be fined.
> "I'll
> explain later!
Tom: God--I hope not!
> Come on!" Avon wheeled the Accelerator out the door,
> the others close behind him.
>
> The five crew members had reached the mouth of Landing Bay Twelve
> without incident.
Joel: Until they were chewed by the big, nasty, pointy teeth...
> Before entering the Landing Bay Area, however, they
> had to pass the multitudes of Federation guards in the way.
Joel: This sounds just like a video game.
> "How are we going to get by?" Vila asked, worried.
Tom: [Tarrant] Well, I'll get a second job flipping burgers, and you can
go back to full-time thieving....
> "We'll have to make a run for it," Soolin said.
> "We don't know where we're running to," the thief protested. "We
> don't even know if our ship's still here!"
> "Servalan had to leave *some* ship for those guards," Tarrant
> began.
Crow: No, she didn't. This is Servalan we're talking about.
> "And I'm sure I can fly anything Federation."
Joel: Even a Sleer Jet?
> "But--" Vila started.
> "We'll have to chance it," Avon said. "Come on!" He and the
> others broke into a run, dodging the guards' fire while searching for
> their ship.
Tom: It's a SPACESHIP! It's the size of a building! How hard can it be
to spot that?!
> "Over here!" Tarrant shouted. "That's it! She didn't take it!"
> He ran toward the cruiser, then suddenly fell forward, holding his
> arm.
Crow: [Tarrant] Dammit! That thing always comes loose at the most
inconvenient moments!
Tom: Ah, I see Tarrant's falling to pieces again.
> Dayna rushed to the fallen pilot to cover him until he could
> right himself again.
Crow: [Tarrant] Well, Dayna, this is hardly the time...
> "I'm all right!" he shouted. "Come on!"
> All of them made it to the cruiser's hatch,
Joel: ...earning 500 bonus points for the round!
> which Vila promptly
> opened. Everyone jumped inside as the guards began to close in on the
> grounded spaceship. Vila promptly shut the hatch. On the inner side of
> the door, he discovered a tiny black box.
Tom: But did he discover it promptly?
> "Hey now, what's this?" he
> asked.
Crow:...right before the world exploded!
Joel: "Mom! Dad! Don't touch it! it's Evil!"
> Avon rolled the Accelerator aside and looked at the box. "A signal
> device!" He pulled it off and stepped on it, smashing it to bits.
> "That's how she knew where we were going!
Tom: And how the heck did they not notice it before, considering that
*it's taped up in plain sight*?!
Joel: I keep telling you, Tom, plot devices. Stay calm or you'll short-
circuit.
> I've seen that kind before.
> It allows a direct link-up with the ship's computer *and* with the
> flight deck. It relays everything from programmed signals to
> conversations of the crew."
Joel: He can figure all that out from looking at a smashed black box?
I've been mistaken--he really *is* an expert!
> He paused. "Let's get out of here!" He and the others went
> to the flight deck and prepared for takeoff, lifting off soon afterwards.
Joel: Usually lifting off follows preparing for takeoff...
Crow: Another visit to the Department of Redundancy Department.
> Just moments after they had pulled themselves safely out of the
> atmosphere of Arda One,
All: The Pleasure Planet!
> they viewed the destruction of the Pleasure
> Planet
All: Arda One!
> from the viewer on the ship.
Joel: Wow. My Viewmaster slides always had boring stuff, like Mickey
Mouse and Goofy.
> "I knew she wouldn't have let us off that easily," Tarrant said, as
> Dayna tended to his wounded arm. He winced as she washed the burned
> area. "She'd planned to blow us all to bits along with her guards and
> this ship."
> "That seems pretty wasteful," Dayna said.
Crow: [heavy metal/Wayne's World] Dude! Wasted!
> "Commissioner Sleer doesn't have to worry about that," said Soolin.
Joel: Arda One has an excellent recycling program!
> "But she's not foolhardy, either. She probably thought we'd all been
> killed when Avon crushed that box.
Tom: Why? How is that a logical conclusion?
Joel: Don't think about it, Tom.
Tom: But Soolin's exposition has never let me down before!
> Her guards were probably instructed
> to take the ship and leave immediately."
> "And their signal to let her know the mission had been completed
> was more than likely the ending of the device's transmission," Tarrant
> said. "That would make sense."
Joel: No, what would make *sense* is for the guards to go to the flight
deck, open a communications channel, and say, "Servalan, we got
them."
> "But what doesn't make sense--at least, not to me--
Crow: And not to us!
> is what you,
> Avon, were doing after you left us?" Soolin's eyes narrowed and her
> tone was anything but understanding.
> Avon looked at his companions. All eyes were on him.
Tom: [Avon] Ewww, slimy!!! Get 'em off me!!!
> "I've got to
> take this machine to where it belongs," he said,
Joel: The garbage can is in the corner, Avon.
> purposely avoiding
> Soolin's question.
> "What's that got to do with anything?" Vila asked, confused.
Tom: That's a good question...
> "Set a course for Llanas," Avon demanded of Tarrant.
> "But--" the pilot protested.
> "Do it! I'll be in my chamber, and I don't want to be disturbed!"
> Avon stormed off the flight deck.
Crow: Taking Tarrant's personal stash of *Intergalactic Playboy* with
him.
> "Touchy, isn't he?" Vila said, amused.
All: Eeww!!!
> "I almost don't want to know what he was doing all that time,"
> Dayna said.
Joel: Neither did we, but if we had to read it, so should you!
> "He was being escorted by Federation guards when I found him, but
> from what he said afterward, I don't think he was a prisoner," Tarrant
> reasoned.
Tom: [Tarrant] At least, not an unwilling one, ifyaknowwhatImean!
> "You mean he's a traitor?" Vila's eyes grew wide.
> "No, not really. At least, not in the sense that you're thinking
> of, Vila. Avon does for Avon, and for Avon alone.
Crow: [Tarrant] That's why he took my magazines just now.
Joel: Crow. Eeww.
Tom: "Eeww" seems to be the theme of the fic here...
> Something was
> definitely up, though," Tarrant answered.
Tom: And we all know what that was!
> "Now what?" Soolin asked.
> "We're on our way to Llanas."
>
[Joel and the bots stand up to leave.]
Joel: Tune in tomorrow for another episode of "As the Universe Turns!"
Tom: "General Space-Op!"
Crow: "All My Non-Existant Children!"
[Door sequence.]
[Bridge of the SoL]
Joel: That trip to Llanas must be a short one.
Tom: What do you mean by that, Joel?
Joel: Uh...wakachickawakachicka...
Tom: Doesn't that imply the need for another person? I mean, he locked
himself in there all alone.
Crow: Yeah, maybe he's just brushing up on his literature.
Joel: Never mind. [Joel hits the Mads' light.] What do you think,
sirs?
[Deep 13. Dr. Forrester and Avon are sitting at the table again.]
Avon: [embarrassed] Actually, that trip would be a rather long one, I
believe.
Dr. F: Oh, yes. I'm sure.
Avon: [holding out his beaker] Could I have some more of your excellent
home brew, Clayton?
Dr. F: Changing the subject, *Kerr*?
Avon: Please don't call me that.
[In the back, Dayna and Soolin enter, overloaded with packages. They dump
them in a corner.]
Dayna: Whew! Never seen a sale like that!
Soolin: I'm exhausted! Well, on to the DaySpa.
[They exit opposite from where they'd entered.]
[Meanwhile in another corner, Frank sits nervously in a chair while Vila
holds up a giant carving knife.]
Vila: Okay, Frank, this shouldn't hurt a bit.
Frank: Vila, you're a little drunk for this, aren't you?
Vila: Nope. I'm not drunk *enough*!
[Vila produces his flask of soma from inside his shirt. He takes a large
swig and steadies the knife.]
Vila: [a little slurred] All right, here goes...
Frank: Get away! [gets up and starts to run]
Vila: [running after Frank] C'mon back...hand's as steady as a rock
now...
[In the chase, Vila inadvertantly trips over the packages piled in the
corner. As he pitches forward, he grabs onto Frank and accidentally
spills his soma all over Frank's head. The mask hisses, fizzes, and...
dissolves.]
Frank: [blubbering] Ummth...therr. Hey. Vila, you did it!
Vila: Told'ja. [He hiccups and lifts his flask in a toast.] Here's to
me.
[He tries to take a swig, then realizes it's empty. He tips it upside-
down and a few drops fall out.]
Vila: Oh bugger.
[Meanwhile, on the SoL, a warning buzzer goes off.]
Joel: Movie sign?!
Gypsy: [entering from left] Joel, a shuttle has just docked with the
satellite!
Orac: Please, friends! You have to hide me! They've finally come!!
===================
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Stinger:
> "The body has been disposed of without complications," Soolin said
> coldly. "And no one saw me do it."