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Blake's 7 fic: Always Check the Horse's Teeth, PG13
Disclaimer: not mine
Length: 1000
Characters: Blake, Avon, Vila, Jenna, Cally
Set: series two, at some point.
Rating: PG13/R - for adult concepts.
Warnings: I don't normally need warnings, but this one has a bit of a twist that I'm going to give away, as, well, it would be unkind not to? Even knowing the twist, I was a bit O.o at my brain. Highlight, if you wish to know.
Notes: This week's![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
b7friday prompt is 'Domestic Bliss'. This is Blake's 7, so, um... no. Inspired by 'To Serve Man' from the Twilight Zone. I wrote most of this at work, and I'm not sure whether to be ashamed, appalled, pleased or amused.
Always Check the Horse's Teeth
by ALC Punk!
It was a perfectly sumptuous meal. A full spread, with everything imaginable, including meat that smelled wonderful. Blake allowed as how he, Vila and Avon could stay to eat. After all, their host was being magnanimous in his gifts to their little cause. A few more supporters would be installed in the area to help the cell, and there would be one more base to strike against the Federation.
Vila had whined about unpleasant rumors, but Avon and Blake were not ruled by rumors. And charming or not, the man had a way of making Federation patrol ships disappear from his airspace.
Afterwards, the meal washed down with a rather tasty wine, Blake was reminded to ask after the man's strangely taciturn assistant.
"Oh, he contributed so much to the meal, he felt he wanted nothing," their host replied with a smile.
Later, Blake would remember that smile. "We should be getting back," he finally said, feeling a reluctance to return to the Liberator. It wasn't the worst place to be, but the rations there couldn't compare with the meal recently consumed. "But before we go, I don't suppose you'd let us peak at your secret recipes?"
Their host laughed, and shook his head, "I'm afraid my secrets remain my own."
Vila liked to call himself the galaxy's--possibly the universe's--greatest thief, so a locked safe with one cookbook to purloin wasn't a difficult task. Of course, as far as he was concerned, the rewards would be highly beneficial.
But he didn't bother to read the title as he concealed it about his person, more interested in escaping with it in hand (or shirt, as it were).
Hopefully, the man wouldn't hold a little thievery against Blake, and besides, Vila would ensure it returned with the first of the recruits. Still, he didn't mention it to Blake until they'd returned to the Liberator.
"I think that went rather well," said Blake, congratulating himself, Avon and Vila. "He seemed like he'd be more than willing to help."
"Just as long as we provide the technicians, the equipment, and the Federation ships," inserted Avon, his tone dry.
Blake set his bracelet back in the holder, and nodded, "Yes. It's a bit of an outlay, but Liberator can handle the cost."
"We just need to find people we can trust."
"A rather trifling commodity," Avon muttered.
"Blake," Jenna said, interrupting their conversation with a troubled look on her face, "while you were down there, Cally and I did a little digging on our new friend. It appears he may not be all that he seems."
"Well, he seemed perfectly harmless, despite his abilities to bring down Federation ships." Blake objected, looking between them as though he were pondering scolding them for looking for trouble where there obviously was none.. "If we could convince him to trust us more, he might be willing to tell us how he does it."
"I'm not so sure that matters, anymore." The Liberator lurched into motion as Jenna replied, and she exchanged a glance with Cally
The Auron telepath took a long look at them, something distrustful in her gaze.
But it was Jenna who offered more of an explanation, "I pre-programmed an evasion course to start soon as you cleared the teleport."
"Jenna, he's an--all right, mostly--harmless old man. He's not going to just shoot us out of the sky, not after making a deal with us."
She raised an eyebrow, "Can you be sure of that?"
"He just fed us very well, Jenna, Cally," Vila smiled cheerfully at them and pulled out his little treasure, "So I borrowed this. Imagine, we can muster up more than sandwiches."
"Will we?" asked Jenna, her gaze on the book's hand-written title.
"You stole his cookbook? Vila!" Blake pulled the book free from Vila's hand, and then paused as he noticed the title.
Avon peered at it, and he looked a little more sardonic, "Well now, I guess he wasn't lying about his assistant contributing to the meal."
"I think," said Vila, turning rather green around the mouth. "That I'm going to be sick."
Blake dropped the book to the floor. "I may join you." He looked at Cally and Jenna, "Is that what you discovered?"
"Essentially, yes," replied Cally with a slight look of sympathy. "Orac is very good at digging."
"Orac also had a suggestion about how to deal with him--aside from canceling our alliance," added Jenna.
Cally leaned forward to check the time display on the teleport console, "The charges should be going off right about... now."
"We also trained the detectors down on his little asteroid, and there's a mass graveyard of wrecked ships. Not all of them Federation." Clearly, Jenna and Cally had had too much time on their hands.
"Did he have any prisoners?" Blake thought to ask, as he tried to take all of it in. That Cally and Jenna had efficiently dealt with a rather despicable situation wasn't lost on him, but he worried a little more how others would see this. The man had been a bane to Federation patrols, after all.
Perhaps he could quietly confirm those rumors Vila had mentioned, the ones about the man and small children.
"Not recently, I think his assistant was the last," Cally said sadly.
Vila finally broke his paralysis and headed out of the teleport area at top-speed, planning a very long and personal session with the head just down the hall from his room.
With more decorum, but obviously intent on similar tasks, Blake and Avon left as well.
Jenna bent and picked up the book carefully, handling it with distaste as she straightened, "Do you think we could teleport this into the nearest sun?"
"Well, at least we can atomize it," was Cally's thought. She shuddered, "This is what they get for leaving us behind, you know."
"Proper research," joked Jenna, "Would have saved them a lot of time."
"And a lot of discomfort?"
They exchanged a long-suffering, but amused look.
And so it was that the leather-bound cookbook entitled How to Prepare Humans: A Delicacy of Delights was atomized.
-f-
Length: 1000
Characters: Blake, Avon, Vila, Jenna, Cally
Set: series two, at some point.
Rating: PG13/R - for adult concepts.
Warnings: I don't normally need warnings, but this one has a bit of a twist that I'm going to give away, as, well, it would be unkind not to? Even knowing the twist, I was a bit O.o at my brain. Highlight, if you wish to know.
| there is canibalism in this fic, though it's mostly implied, and inadvertent on Our Heroes' parts |
Notes: This week's
b7friday prompt is 'Domestic Bliss'. This is Blake's 7, so, um... no. Inspired by 'To Serve Man' from the Twilight Zone. I wrote most of this at work, and I'm not sure whether to be ashamed, appalled, pleased or amused. Always Check the Horse's Teeth
by ALC Punk!
It was a perfectly sumptuous meal. A full spread, with everything imaginable, including meat that smelled wonderful. Blake allowed as how he, Vila and Avon could stay to eat. After all, their host was being magnanimous in his gifts to their little cause. A few more supporters would be installed in the area to help the cell, and there would be one more base to strike against the Federation.
Vila had whined about unpleasant rumors, but Avon and Blake were not ruled by rumors. And charming or not, the man had a way of making Federation patrol ships disappear from his airspace.
Afterwards, the meal washed down with a rather tasty wine, Blake was reminded to ask after the man's strangely taciturn assistant.
"Oh, he contributed so much to the meal, he felt he wanted nothing," their host replied with a smile.
Later, Blake would remember that smile. "We should be getting back," he finally said, feeling a reluctance to return to the Liberator. It wasn't the worst place to be, but the rations there couldn't compare with the meal recently consumed. "But before we go, I don't suppose you'd let us peak at your secret recipes?"
Their host laughed, and shook his head, "I'm afraid my secrets remain my own."
Vila liked to call himself the galaxy's--possibly the universe's--greatest thief, so a locked safe with one cookbook to purloin wasn't a difficult task. Of course, as far as he was concerned, the rewards would be highly beneficial.
But he didn't bother to read the title as he concealed it about his person, more interested in escaping with it in hand (or shirt, as it were).
Hopefully, the man wouldn't hold a little thievery against Blake, and besides, Vila would ensure it returned with the first of the recruits. Still, he didn't mention it to Blake until they'd returned to the Liberator.
"I think that went rather well," said Blake, congratulating himself, Avon and Vila. "He seemed like he'd be more than willing to help."
"Just as long as we provide the technicians, the equipment, and the Federation ships," inserted Avon, his tone dry.
Blake set his bracelet back in the holder, and nodded, "Yes. It's a bit of an outlay, but Liberator can handle the cost."
"We just need to find people we can trust."
"A rather trifling commodity," Avon muttered.
"Blake," Jenna said, interrupting their conversation with a troubled look on her face, "while you were down there, Cally and I did a little digging on our new friend. It appears he may not be all that he seems."
"Well, he seemed perfectly harmless, despite his abilities to bring down Federation ships." Blake objected, looking between them as though he were pondering scolding them for looking for trouble where there obviously was none.. "If we could convince him to trust us more, he might be willing to tell us how he does it."
"I'm not so sure that matters, anymore." The Liberator lurched into motion as Jenna replied, and she exchanged a glance with Cally
The Auron telepath took a long look at them, something distrustful in her gaze.
But it was Jenna who offered more of an explanation, "I pre-programmed an evasion course to start soon as you cleared the teleport."
"Jenna, he's an--all right, mostly--harmless old man. He's not going to just shoot us out of the sky, not after making a deal with us."
She raised an eyebrow, "Can you be sure of that?"
"He just fed us very well, Jenna, Cally," Vila smiled cheerfully at them and pulled out his little treasure, "So I borrowed this. Imagine, we can muster up more than sandwiches."
"Will we?" asked Jenna, her gaze on the book's hand-written title.
"You stole his cookbook? Vila!" Blake pulled the book free from Vila's hand, and then paused as he noticed the title.
Avon peered at it, and he looked a little more sardonic, "Well now, I guess he wasn't lying about his assistant contributing to the meal."
"I think," said Vila, turning rather green around the mouth. "That I'm going to be sick."
Blake dropped the book to the floor. "I may join you." He looked at Cally and Jenna, "Is that what you discovered?"
"Essentially, yes," replied Cally with a slight look of sympathy. "Orac is very good at digging."
"Orac also had a suggestion about how to deal with him--aside from canceling our alliance," added Jenna.
Cally leaned forward to check the time display on the teleport console, "The charges should be going off right about... now."
"We also trained the detectors down on his little asteroid, and there's a mass graveyard of wrecked ships. Not all of them Federation." Clearly, Jenna and Cally had had too much time on their hands.
"Did he have any prisoners?" Blake thought to ask, as he tried to take all of it in. That Cally and Jenna had efficiently dealt with a rather despicable situation wasn't lost on him, but he worried a little more how others would see this. The man had been a bane to Federation patrols, after all.
Perhaps he could quietly confirm those rumors Vila had mentioned, the ones about the man and small children.
"Not recently, I think his assistant was the last," Cally said sadly.
Vila finally broke his paralysis and headed out of the teleport area at top-speed, planning a very long and personal session with the head just down the hall from his room.
With more decorum, but obviously intent on similar tasks, Blake and Avon left as well.
Jenna bent and picked up the book carefully, handling it with distaste as she straightened, "Do you think we could teleport this into the nearest sun?"
"Well, at least we can atomize it," was Cally's thought. She shuddered, "This is what they get for leaving us behind, you know."
"Proper research," joked Jenna, "Would have saved them a lot of time."
"And a lot of discomfort?"
They exchanged a long-suffering, but amused look.
And so it was that the leather-bound cookbook entitled How to Prepare Humans: A Delicacy of Delights was atomized.
-f-
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Very true!
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