Chapter 12: A Straight Jacket Does Not Straighten One's Posture

With most of the passengers gathered together in the main dining area, the guards continue to search the '&8plal;' for its crew. Orion system hackers had already started in attacking the ship's AI, forcing it into submission and reprogramming. What remains are the few hand energy pistol fights in the secondary engineering and various cargo bays.

Armed with his own set of fire arms, he walks with his entourage to the main dining section as he owned the ship. Perhaps he does, with the bridge crew and captain floating in the cold hard vacuum of space, any of the surviving crew would be foolish to reinstate authority with so much going against them.

He stands by the doorway of the main dining area and adjusts his collar and hat before proceeding to enter the expanse. Once inside, he heads towards the entertainment stage, not far away from the bar. Once behind the podium, he makes his message heard.

"Males and females of the assorted races we have here, my name is Jaq the Jackal, Captain of the Mistress of Death, and it is with my greatest apologies that I have to say that my men and I have commandeered your ship. I apologize because we did not intended to attack your ship, for while we were hiding in the nebula's cloud doing repairs to my ship- the Mistress of Death, your Captain thought it would be wise to collect the reward on my head and attack my ship. He lost the battle, but understand that my war is not with you.", he started to say. Taking a deep breathe, he continues, "This ship is too badly damaged to continue on its journey, but fear not, I will dispatch two of my smaller vessels to bring you to your port of call, at no price to you. All I want is when the information media stops you for an interview, tell them that your grey-skin Orion Captain and crew put you and the life of your fellow passengers in jeopardy in trying to collect a reward against a terrain pirate who rescued you from a space wreck that he caused. Now, while my crew is organizing to get you home, I want you to prepare to board another ship- take your possessions with you, leave nothing behind. Go into your quarters and return here in one hour, be prepared to leave this ship."

He steps away from the podium and walks through the crowd as they start to mumble amongst themselves. An elder alien stand up and yells at him, "How much for the reward?"

He stops for a moment, and slowly turns around to face him. "The reward? For my head? Its is only for a few billion credits- dead or alive, but for my ship- reward for retrieving the hull of the Mistress of Death is 12.6 trillion credits. I ask you, is putting your life in jeopardy worth 12.6 trillion credits?"

The elder alien stares at him for the moment before speaking, "I think not, and I will let the information media know it."

He nods at the alien with approval, before heading off to the door.

#

The historical fighters return with an extra ship in tow, a fighter craft that had been bombarded to minimal service status, just giving a bit more rank than a life rescue-pod. Inside, one very scared pilot, unsure as to what will be done with him as a captive. The fact that his fighter is in tow is the least dignified of situations to be in, even less when its being towed by the enemy.

Each one of the fighter crafts take their turn to land in the maintenance bay of 3IO, and take their positions at the end of the landing pad, waiting for the last fighter and the helpless craft in tow. Its one thing for any kind of aircraft to take off with a glider in tow, its another to bring it in for a landing. It is even worse when the craft in tow is unresponsive to its controls and it is not capable of a gliding flight without power.

But the Baron manages to land his craft as soft as possible, although the craft in tow belly flops onto the tarmac and slides across 1/2 way across the runway. Once both crafts come to a stop, the Baron steps out of his craft and walks over to his prisoner's ship, standing at a relative safe distance from it as the space docking crew nears it with their fire fighting equipment.

The cockpit opens, and the fire fighting crews work hard to cut straps and carry out an uncooperative occupant from inside. Eventually, they let the occupant go as the rest of the crew cover craft in fire retarding foam.

The rest of the historical fighters run to the landing site, surrounding the occupant of the enemy craft and the Baron. Making due with little they had, they restrain the enemy fighter with assorted cables and straps that they had laying around.

Resisting at first, he calms down when Albert Ball whispers a warning to his ear, "You can remain a live prisoner or be returned as a dead statistic...", before putting a blind fold over his visor, made from the traditional scarves the historical pilots flew with.

Together, they walk back to their conference room, taking their prisoner to the front of the room. They sit him down and quietly set their seats in a semi-circular setting around him, keeping the room dark.

#

In a blink of an eye, the two are standing on the temporal platform #3, with a Hepzedah and a several temporal mechanic technicians standing around the controls with small arms and emergency medical kits.

"Ms Mustidae, this has gone too far to be...." Dr. Brunner stated in anger, but suddenly becomes silent in awe by the view of the expanse of the bay and the number of temporal devices in the room.

"You left L'zerdah behind for this crack pot?", Hepzedah said in semi-disgusted tone.

"I needed to prove a point with him.", Tabitha answers her.

"Well, what's the point?", Hepzedah asked, almost demanded.

"You want to tell him the history at this point of view?", Tabitha asks.

"Of what? The Sun and Earth are gone. Aliens from other star systems are at fault. These same aliens run the Temporal Police and the Galactic Council, and each wants the remaining few that we are to be as dead as our star and home world. By the way, the Temporal Police is on their way to stop Earth's first time travel attempt in 2027, which means for you, as soon as Kaisha Corp. opens that temporal portal, they'll come flooding in through the gate. So which part of history did you wanted explained?", Hepzedah said.

"Even though we being time travelers- you should know that sometimes we don't have the luxury of time on our side. We need to get that first portal closed, and time is not an option for us in the here and now, but it is for our time...", Tabitha explains.

"Those are of our designs, but this one we're on, and the others, who designed them? And what is that?!!", Dr. Brunner asked as he pointed to various items around him, pointing last at the Orion's Rift that powered the complex.

"Hepzedah, send us back!", Tabitha yells at her.

"Pssst!... With Pleasure...", Hepzedah said as she looks down at the controls, inputting the last set of temporal coordinates before activating the portal. In a bright flash of light, they were gone.

#

Holding her hand down against his on the desk, "Well, Dr. Brunner?"

"I have to go back there....", he replied to her.

"Later, after we take care of the first portal opening.", Tabitha explained.

"According to your plan, the events have already been set into motion.", Dr. Brunner stated.

"One thing you need to realize as a time traveler, the future depends on the actions of the present puts onto the past.", Tabitha says.

"Huh...?", Dr. Brunner said.

"You'll get it after you have done a few temporal incursions.", Tabitha explain.

He gives her the same dumb and annoyed look he once gave a colleague so long ago when he was told the joke about Einstein discovering that time does equal money.

#

"We've got ways of dealing with your kind.", the voice of one of the German pilots saids as he walks around the tied up prisoner, "Now are you going to tell us what we want to know, or are we going to have to get apply certain means of persuasion?"

"What do you want from me, all this was a game- a simulation!", the prisoner cries out.

"You think all this was a game?", the German yells at him.

"Yo Oswald... let me try...", another voice says not far away in the room. The walls echoes with the sound of deliberate heavy foot steps walking in a rhythmic march towards him. "You know...", he continues with a pause in his British accent, "we got ways of making you talk, but we have much more enjoyable ways of watching you die. Now which one will it be?"

"What is it you want!", the prisoner yells back.

"Lets starts with the basics, Name... Rank, Serial Number...", the British voice says near him.

"Serial What?!!", the prisoner answers loudly.

"Looks like he's not being cooperative.", a voice saids from the prisoner's right.

BAM!

The prisoner falls out of his chair unconscious.

"You did not had to knock him out, Frank!", Leone Hawker complains.

"He was not answering the questions..." Frank Luke stated as he rubbed his knuckles.

"Now that he's out cold, what should we do with him?", Oswald Boelcke asks

"The medical lab had those self restraining suits we can use on him...", Albert Ball stated.

"And after we restrain him up some more, what do we do with him?", Oswald Boelcke asks.

"Hmmm... I remember a vixen spy that infiltrated the French intelligence...", Georges Guynemer said, "She single handily ruined the career of many high ranking officers.... What was her name... hmmm... Mata Hari!"

The Germans in the room started to laugh out loud, until Manfred von Richthofen spoke.

"Mata Hari was a Hungarian prostitute looking for a safe bed to sleep in. If it meant sleeping with generals- she did it.", Manfred explained, "She slept on both sides of the trench..."

"Who's Mata Hari?", Frank Luke asked.

"Mata Hari was a vixen spy for the Germans who could charm the guns off a pilots' plane...", Albert Ball explained to him.

"Oh... so... we go...", Frank started to say before he starts laughing.

"You got an idea, Frank?", Oswald asked.

"Yes I do... Albert, you go get that self restraining suit. Maxx, you remember that cute mix breed at tended the bar? Find her and bring her back... Anybody here got some credits?", Frank Luke commanded with a smile on his maw.

"What do you intend to do, Frank?, Oswald asked.

"I see where he's going with this- lets go see if the observation room is empty for the next few hours.", Manfred saids with a smile.

#

A couple of hours had passed, and Necarl wakes up in a dimly lit room unable to move but his head on the lap of a very lovely vixen.

"About time you woke up love, I was getting worried there...", her voice said in a soothing tone.

"Where am I? Why am I tied up?", Necarl asks.

"Your friends told me that you were one of those kinky types... before momma here starts giving out that home loving, What is your name, soldier boy...?", she asks.

"And who are you?", Necarl asks.

"Me? My name is Mata Hari, but my friends call me Matti...", she answers as she strokes the fur on his forehead.