HAVOC, INC. #1
"Thieves' Den"
c 1996, Mark Barnard, Terrie Smith

FIRST DRAFT VERSION SCRIPT
(Written: 7/27/96-28/96)

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SYNOPSIS: Being a bit financially strapped, Havoc, Inc. makes a stopover on a desert world, hoping to barter for scavenged parts from a crashed spaceship. Not that not understanding the local language or culture would bother Chester in the least...

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PAGE ONE (Full-page panel): Brightly lit (stark) day shot of a desert locale, with stark shadows beginning to pool as evening approaches. The Half Moon is stretched across the panel, about 3/4 of the way down, landed. A crude control tower (a cubical box bearing a row of square windows around its middle, atop a rickety scaffold, is off to one side. In the foreground, a canopy extends into the panel from the left, held by a crude support pole. Possibly a canted box of goods beneath it. Viewpoint is from the edge of an unseen marketplace, looking 'out,' at what passes for a spaceport.

LOGO AND CREDITS: HAVOC logo at upper right of panel. Story title (THIEVES' DEN) is possibly across bottom of page, with production credits (Story: Mark Barnard Art: Terrie Smith) possibly below, spaced.

EXPOSITORY PANEL #1: (high on the page) 1700 Hours. The Planet Ash'tuul.

EXPOSITORY PANEL #2: (staggered and lower) Receiving  word of an auction of salvaged parts from a crashed space cruiser, the free carrier Half Moon makes an unplanned stop. It SEEMED like a good idea at the time...

DIALOG BALLOON (stemless, as the speaker isn't yet visible -- note native language dialog is in parentheses.): (Hassid, come ON! You've got to see this!

PAGE TWO:

TOP LEFT PANEL (medium shot): Vendor's stall, with the goods arrayed across the front and hanging from the fringes of the shadowing canopy. Woman browsing at left. Vendor is in mid-panel, leaning  forward and to right, reacting to passerby who's darting across panel, l to r)

VENDOR: (What is it, that I should scatter my trade to the wind and follow you like a feckless child, sand flea?)

ALI: (There's trouble at Achmed's stall!)

TOP RIGHT PANEL (two-shot): Side view inside the stall, the goods on the left, the back of the stall on the right. The vendor and his customer both reacting. Achmed is evidently not popular in the business community.

HASSID: (ACHMED? This I must see?)

WOMAN (tentatively but optimistic): (Perhaps it's a public beating?)

MIDDLE TIER PANEL (across page): Wide shot of a large, festive, gathering crowd. Scattered stalls to either side and other signs of crude commerce. Behind the crowd is a wide sign, held by two supporting poles at the ends Sign reads: Achmed the Generous, Dealer In Fine Mounts and Pack Animals. The woman and other two are arriving stage left).

WOMAN: (He overcharged my Ramesh 600 duurk'ish of for a camel, last week!

ALI: (It is nothing! Try doing honest business near his stall, on a warm day! The SMELL...! TELL her, Hassid!)

UNASSIGNED BALLOON EMERGING ABOVE CROWD: (Twenty bronze pieces each!)

BOTTOM LEFT PANEL (overhead shot, angling down from slightly above the trio): Vendor elbowing his way through the close-packed crowd. He has his hand on the shoulder of one of the assembled.

VENDOR: (What is happening, oh Brother of the Sands?)

BOTTOM RIGHT PANEL (facial close-up with bits of the nearest spectators in background): Bystander replies.

BYSTANDER (tears of laughter in his eyes): (The funniest thing I have seen since the Caliph put the mimes to the sword. Look!

PAGE THREE:

TOP PANEL WITH INSERT BOX AT UPPER LEFT: Insert box is close-up of astonished Vendor leaning forward, reacting to the sight before him. The main panel is a shot of Chester, Deck and a visibly frazzled dealer in "fine" steeds, who's become increasingly disoriented in his attempts to deal with the alien duo. D & C are consulting a translation guide Deck's holding  upraised. Deck and Chester are dressed in appropriate "local" (i.e., Arabian) garb. Laughter across the top of the panel, in large letters?

MIDDLE TIER LEFT PANEL (close-up of Chester, looking self-assured and slightly cajoling): Deck is to the right and slightly in the background, looking uneasily at the surrounding crowd -- his keen senses suggesting to him that negotiations AREN'T going all that smoothly.

CHESTER: (I have a frog and much money. I only pray you will take me for all I am worth.)

MIDDLE TIER RIGHT PANEL (extends about 1/2 across the page): Deck elbowing Chester, who's seized control of the book and is savoring his moment as a Master of All Languages.

DECK (worried tone, his eyes still on the snickering gathering): Chester, are you SURE you know what you're doing?

CHESTER (out of the side of his mouth): Of course. There's nothing to dealing with the yokels, once you make that first impression of strength. LOOK at him. I have him on the ropes!

BOTTOM LEFT PANEL (facial close-up): Achmed, mouth twitching -- this is a wretched soul in damning torment.

ACHMED (thinking): (Allah preserve me, Zealots! I must not offend them or I am lost.)

ACHMED (aloud): (S-six duurk'ish? Please, oh worthy sirs?)

BOTTOM RIGHT PANEL (two shot of D & C): Deck takes possession of the guide and flips through a few pages, looking for their next little ill-chosen bombshell.

DECK (whispering): Let me try.

DECK (aloud): (Show us your rubbish. I must browse!)

PAGE FOUR:

TOP PANEL (thin -- about 2' high and extending across the page): facial of Achmed, possibly shot slightly from below, on left -- thoughts and dialog on the right)

ACHMED (thinking):  (No doubt of it. Dangerous, unbalanced Zealots. Mama was right. Better I should have joined my six brothers in raising sheep.  Even now, I feel their cunning noose tightening about my throat!)

SECOND TIER LEFT PANEL (close-up): Achmed, proposing a counteroffer, some of the laughing crowd visible beyond him.

ACHMED (feverishly): (A single duurk'ish for both, and I will throw in full canteens? Please?)

SECOND MIDDLE PANEL: Deck, finger raised in assurance, as Chester, to one side and completely out to sea over the translation guide, nods fiercely.

DECK: (My monkey will wash your vegetables.)

SECOND TIER RIGHT PANEL (group shot, side view): Achmed, springing into action, shoving the pair l to r at arms length.

ACHMED: (Not necessary, kind sir! I can see you are an individual of VAST importance! My mighty steeds are yours for the asking! Free! Gratis! No, do not thank me!)

DECK (he's dazed): B-but...but...??

THIRD LEVEL PANEL (wide shot): Achmed is shoving an off-balance Deck up onto the saddle of a particularly vicious-looking horse, Deck sputtering and looking bewildered all the way. To the left, an assistant is helping a slightly more cool and collected Chester up into his saddle. Note: the local horses stand roughly 7' high at the saddle, and are built for power, which sets up the later reactions Deck has to the breed. The spectators are in close background, behind a simple fence, reacting in high hilarity -- it's been a good show for them.)

BOTTOM LEFT PANEL (medium shot): The horses moving into the extreme foreground, r to l. Chester in the lead, in control of his mount, Deck also fairly in control, looking back over his shoulder. Achmed is in far background, arms overhead, shouting his farewell.

ACHMED: (May your journey bring you profit and wisdom, oh Lords!)

BOTTOM RIGHT PANEL (close-up): Achmed, face in his hands, concerned assistants putting hands on his heaving shoulders and looking concerned.

ACHMED (thinking): (Perhaps the sun will finish them off, and the miserable nags will find their way home. Ohhhhhhh. The Guild will NEVER understand this!)

PAGE FIVE:

TOP LEFT PANEL (vertical, extending about 1/2 way down the page): Chester in the saddle, full figure, seen from the right side, riding l to r. Deck is  just beyond him, leaning back in his saddle, smiling across at him and looking a little more comfortable with the situation.

CHESTER (impressed): I didn't know you could handle the language so well, Chris. It seemed a little complicated at first!

DECK (breezily): ALL in the intonation, m' boy! You just fix 'em with a steely eye and say...

TOP RIGHT PANEL (frontal view of Deck and Chester, riding side by side, angle shows them from the saddle up.): The canine consults his book confidently.

DECK (continuing thought): ...(Shoot me now! I have known your mother several times!)

CHESTER (grinning happily): Negotiating for the engine parts will be a snap if that's all there is to it.

DECK: Yup!

MIDDLE TIER RIGHT PANEL (PARALLEL TO LOWER HALF OF VERTICAL PANEL): (long shot of the desert, with the sky overhead darkening as the sun begins to set. The horses and their riders are some distance off.)

BOTTOM LEFT  PANEL (close-up of Chester, angled slightly from below): It's now dark, and Chester's pulled a blanket out of the saddlebag I forgot to previously mention, and has it pulled up around him to shield him from the evening chill.

CHESTER: How much further do we have to go? I'm getting hungry.

BOTTOM RIGHT PANEL: (shot of the approaching horses from ground level, a lizard on a rock in the foreground)

DECK: The radioed instructions said there'd be an inn about three hours from the spaceport. We can't stop now. That message must have reached a dozen ships in the sector. With our cash situation as it IS, we'll have to try to get there and cut a deal before the open bidding starts.

PAGE SIX:

TOP LEFT PANEL: Deck, looking uneasily around in the darkness.

DECK: You'll have to wait. Unless you'd care to hunt something up?

TOP MIDDLE PANEL "A" (SMALL PANEL ROUGHLY HALF THE HEIGHT OF THE FRAMING PANELS AT THE SIDES): (close-up of Chester, eyeing the lizard and making a disgusted face)

CHESTER: No thanks.

TOP MIDDLE PANEL "B" (DIRECTLY BELOW MIDDLE "A", AND SAME SIZE): (facial close-up of a grinning Deck)

MIDDLE TIER RIGHT PANEL: (Chester, slightly from behind, turning in his seat and sniffing the chill night air. Deck's in the background, panel left, reacting to his partner's strange behavior.)

CHESTER: Sniff! Sniff!

CHESTER: Mmmm. I think I've found your rest stop.

BOTTOM PANEL (filling the rest of the page ): Overhead shot of the pair paused on the crest of a sweeping valley in the dunes. The night wind scatters the sand around them. Moonlight throws erratic strips of light across the revealed vista below. A small (distant) building squats in the middle of nowhere -- the light from its windows inviting.

PAGE SEVEN:

TOP LEFT PANEL (extends 2/3 was across top of page): Wide view of the tavern, with Deck and Chester entering from upper right. Down steps, the room is shadowy and vaguely dingy. Tables fill the place, with a few sullen groups of travelers seated at them. A couple of scantily clad waitresses bustle among the tables, carrying laden trays.

TOP RIGHT PANEL (frontal medium shot): Deck and Chester descending the stairs into the dining room.

DECK: Watch yourself.

MIDDLE TIER LEFT PANEL: Deck leading the way through the tables. Chester following, looking down and slightly back at the table in foreground. Seated customer (some sort of patterned feline?) is staring back in open hostility, spilling a stream of coins from one upraised hand into an open sack he's holding in his free hand. A wicked looking dagger is laid out in plain sight on the table. Cards strewn carelessly across the tabletop.

MIDDLE TIER RIGHT PANEL: Deck easing down into a seat at an available table, glancing warily at the surrounding diners, who all seem to be staring pointedly at the newcomers. Chester's slightly behind him, beaming as he flirts with one of the passing waitresses, who seems interested and appreciative.

DECK: All the comforts of home...

CHESTER (consulting the book): (Two of your finest, and some mutton!)

BOTTOM LEFT PANEL: The waitress delivering a couple of crude but large mugs of the local brew. Chester's leaning back in his seat, scene right, grinning broadly. Deck's got his ears in "suspicion mode," and is inspecting the offered mugs skeptically. Visible fumes are rising from them...

CHESTER (who entertains no such concern): Ahh! THIS is more like it!

BOTTOM RIGHT PANEL (two-shot): Deck, taking a tentative sip. Chester, who hasn't yet tested his drink, is leaning on one fist, waiting to see the what the local brew does to Deck. ALWAYS better safe than sorry.

PAGE EIGHT:

TOP LEFT PANEL ( one of three vertical  shots in the sequence -- slightly longer than the usual): Deck with the mug poised at mid-chest height. He has a quizzical expression on his face, his ears akimbo and several small bubbles drifting upwards from one side of his muzzle.

TOP CENTER PANEL (same panel format): Deck, a lopsided smile spreading across his face, sagging slightly into a more comfortable position as the effects of the drink begin to hit him.

CHESTER (off-scene): Well?

DECK: Not bad.

TOP RIGHT PANEL: The smile's at full effect, and he's taking a VERY healthy swig.

DECK (around his mouthful): In fact, pretty good. (Hic)  

MIDDLE TIER LEFT PANEL (narrow, about 2"-3" high and half the page wide): long shot of Chester indicating two more drinks to a passing waitress. Deck is leaning back, clearly a satisfied customer.

DECK: You know, we may make a GO of this space transport service idea of yours!

MIDDLE TIER RIGHT PANEL (format ditto): Close shot of Chester's eyes, looking intently stage right.

BOTTOM LEFT PANEL : Chester leaning in his seat, staring with rapt fascination at a gem dangling from a nearby figure's waist sash, ringtail lust pooled in his wide eyes. At last, the trip has true, deep meaning.

BOTTOM RIGHT PANEL (two-shot): Deck's in the background, worrying over a joint of mutton, blissfully unaware of Chester's intent. Chester's in the right foreground, eyes glowing, his tongue running over sharp, predatory teeth.

DECK: According to the chart, we've got another five or six hours ahead of us.  We'd better get moving, if we're going to beat the competition.

PAGE NINE:

TOP LEFT PANEL: (two-shot)

DECK (surprised): You haven't touched your food.

CHESTER (neatly scooping it up in a cloth): I'll eat on the way. No use in wasting precious time, right?

DECK (can't find fault with this, though he feels he somehow should): Uh, right.

MIDDLE LEFT PANEL (below TL panel, it carries on the action): Deck scowling as he leads the way, accepting a filled wineskin from the waitress.

DECK: You haven't been up to anything, have you?

RIGHT TOP/MIDDLE TIER PANEL (completes the sequence on the right of the page). Chester in full frontal figure, walking to the stairs. He's visibly tucking the filched stone into his tunic for safekeeping.

CHESTER (smiling gently): Chris! You wound me deeply!

BOTTOM LEFT PANEL (long shot) Desert, with the horses plodding along against the horizon, moon HIGH in the sky (it will later mark time by dropping lower in the sky).

BOTTOM RIGHT PANEL: Chester, lying back in his saddle, inspecting his new trinket with undisguised delight. Deck, beyond, is reacting unhappily.

DECK: Where'd you get that? Or shouldn't I ask?

PAGE TEN:

TOP LEFT PANEL (close-up): Chester, savoring his treasure as only he can..

CHESTER (hooking a thumb back in the direction from which they've come): Back at our last stop. I can appreciate it far better than some desert lout, and (Sigh) a stone like this DESERVES proper adoration."

TOP MIDDLE PANEL: Chester, still brandishing his prey, leans slightly over and bats his eyes at the irate canine.

CHESTER: In so many way's we're alike. Dazzling, rare, and due some special appreciation.

TOP RIGHT PANEL (close-up): Deck, rolling his eyes in surrender.

DECK: Well, it's too LATE to take it beck. (second balloon) Besides, I seem to recall something in the guide book about their hacking things OFF for stealing. I'll let this one ride.

MIDDLE TIER LEFT PANEL: (forward view of the two, riding side by side -- Chester fastening his prize to his waist sash)

CHESTER (happily): You're so good to me!

MIDDLE TIER RIGHT PANEL: Deck, reining up.

DECK: I think we'd better stop of the night. We'll set up a tent here and get an early start in the morning. It can't be much further.

BOTTOM LEFT PANEL (medium shot): The pair dismounting .  Deck starts to pull the  tent components out of Deck's saddlebags. Chester offers him the wine skin. The moon is lower in the night sky.

CHESTER: You always take me to the nicest places!

DECK: Cute, cute.

BOTTOM RIGHT PANEL (overhead shot): Deck and Chester asleep under the stretched-out tent fabric (it's more of a canopy which allows the night breze to blow through. Deck's stretched out on his back on a blanket. Chester's lying at his side with his blanket pulled up partly over him. His head's on Deck's chest, and the wine skin, now empty, is lying on the sand near Deck's cheek. Deck has a protective arm around the ringtail's shoulders. 

PAGE ELEVEN:

TOP LEFT PANEL (facial close-up): Deck's face, one cheek resting on the sand. Suggestion of spilled wine, if possible? The tip of a scimitar is insistently tapping him on the upper cheek. One eye slightly open in response.

SOUND EFFECT: Tap Tap.

TOP RIGHT PANEL (profile): Deck's head slightly raised. He's staring at the tip of the sword, now brandished a few inches from his muzzle. The weapon's owner is NOT yet visible.

MIDDLE TIER LEFT PANEL (overhead, looking down on the canine's chest):

DECK (shaking Chester slightly): Company. I think it's for you.

MIDDLE RIGHT TIER PANEL (ground level shot from behind the pair, shooting along Deck's legs to reveal their unexpected company, a particularly disreputable looking hare. Some way behind him are the black forms of several armed, mounted companions) Deck and Chester, now crouching or beginning to rise. The sword brandishing hare regarding them sternly, the blade still conspicuously present.

BOTTOM LEFT PANEL (three-shot) Hare in left foreground, bowing with his hand to his chest. D & C in background at right, looking astonished at not becoming kibble kabob. NOTE: Hassan speaks Universpeak, so all future dialog is NOT bracketed.

HASSAN (hare): A thousand and ten pardons, O' Lord. We had not realized you were returning from the...ahh...'negotiations' so soon.

CHESTER (weak voice): Uh...

BOTTOM RIGHT PANEL (one-shot) Hassan, stowing his sword, gaze down and intent on his task.

HASSAN: I might have done you harm if it had not been for your firestone. Our agents warned us to look for a stranger bearing such a gem. Barush was lying on his blaze.

PAGE TWELVE:

TOP LEFT PANEL "A" (UPPER OF TWO SMALL PANELS -- ACTION LEADS VERTICALLY HERE) (close-up): Deck raises testing fingers to his left cheek, which has a still damp wine stain against the grey fur). A trace of the wine comes off on the fingertips.

TOP LEFT PANEL "B": Close-up of empty wine skin and a small pool of spilled wine which Deck had been dozing in. This explains the facial discoloration.

TOP RIGHT PANEL: Chester on his feet, standing just out of sword reach from the hare, who's puffed up with self-importance. This is clearly 'his moment.'

HASSAN: You may speak freely with Hassan the Wise, O' Raider King! I speak the demon language of the large city, while these wicked camel droppings do not.

CHESTER (aloud): We are impressed, O' Hassan.

CHESTER (hissed) Chris! DO something!

MIDDLE TIER LEFT PANEL (three-shot) Hassan is elbowing Chester suggestively in the side. The ringtail is still getting his mental footing and looks slightly concerned. Deck, to one side, is glancing at the shadowy forms of the other raiders.

HASSAN: Then all went well? We shall soon have the ransom of the flower?

CHESTER: Oh, yes. Barush and I...err...were overcome by the joyous nature of our tidings. We merely stopped for a rest.

MIDDLE TIER RIGHT PANEL: Deck, with bad news, gripping Chester's shoulder. Chester's eyes drift over to the speaker, though he still faces the Bedouin.

DECK: And our steeds pulled loose from their tether line.

BOTTOM  LEFT PANEL: Chester, being unduly gracious as he backs away, making excuses. Deck grinning fiercely, also backing away. Hassan is askance. He wouldn't hear of this.

CHESTER: Then we should go and FIND them. You'll excuse us. We'll be along later.

BOTTOM RIGHT PANEL: (long shot) Hassan has gripped Chester's sleeve and is pulling l to r, where a riderless steed (remember, there are massive and fierce) awaits. Chester's got a death grip on Deck's collar, and is dragging him along, off-balance.

HASSAN: Not necessary, Lord! I, Hassan the Inspired, have thought of your comfort. See, the fiercest of our war steeds awaits! We shall all ride to the camp in glory!

DECK (unenthusiastically): My, aren't we the lucky ones.

PAGE THIRTEEN:

TOP PANEL (WIDE SHOT): Hassan, boosting Chester atop the steed, which is glowering back with venom in its piggy little eyes. Deck is taking a step back, as the beast's basilisk stare is directed at him. The other riders are gathered around, on the far side of the hulking brute. A little thought balloon above the horse, with a skull and crossbones in it?

HASSAN: You will, of course, wish faithful Barush to guide the beast?

CHESTER: Of course. Naturally, O' Hassan. Barush, who would give his life for mine in an instant! Barush, who would gladly bristle with the arrows meant for me! Barush...

MIDDLE TIER LEFT PANEL: (overhead view) Deck pulling himself into the saddle in front of Chester, who seems slightly more at ease as whoever he's supposed to be).

DECK (undertone): EXCUSE me??!!

HASSAN (standing to one side): Be careful, O' Barush. The brute killed only hours ago, and the scent of blood is still strong within him. He is likely to turn on you.

MIDDLE TIER RIGHT PANEL (two-shot): Deck, regarding the reins in his limp hand unenthusiastically. Chester's leaning around his shoulder, grinning at the pilot's discomfort.

DECK (thinking, as he gives the reins a MINUTE twitch): Mother!

CHESTER (with infernal gusto): HEE-yah!

BOTTOM LEFT PANEL (wide panel): The horse bursting forward in full gallop against the night sky, the other raiders in close pursuit. Deck's arced back in the saddle, with Chester leaning into him, trying to brace him with his hands, eyes closed. Sand flies everywhere from the explosive start.

BOTTOM RIGHT PANEL (narrow) : The string of mounted raisers galloping down a rise, at the viewer, in the distance.

PAGE FOURTEEN:

TOP LEFT PANEL (3/4 across page): Side view of the desert, moonlit along the rear horizon, and dark in the foreground with occasional terrain highlights. The raiders are in full gallop, l to r diagonally back towards the horizon. The moon is a bit lower in the sky.

CAPTION: One Bone-jarring Hour Later...

TOP RIGHT PANEL (shot from left): Chester, one arm around Deck's neck in a desperate headlock, trying to be heard over the thunder of the hooves. Deck is looking fairly grim, and has one hand up, trying to get a little air around his partner's grip.

CHESTER: Can't we lag back and lose them?

DECK: I don't think he WANTS to lag, Chester! Besides, these folks think we're bringing home some sort of treasure. They might not appreciate our disappearing right now.

MIDDLE TIER LEFT PANEL (side view) Chester, hugging Deck, his face turned to the side, eyes squinted tightly shut. Deck's visibly working out their situation around the jarring gallop and his general disorientation.

CHESTER: You're probably right. So what do we do?

DECK: Go to their camp. We'll think of something once we're there.

CHESTER: I'm going to hold you to that!

MIDDLE TIER RIGHT PANEL (Deck and Chester, seated, angled side view): Chester's reached forward to open the waist of Deck's tunic and is scratching his stomach with skilled fingertips.

BOTTOM LEFT PANEL (frontal view of the pair): Deck is reacting in disbelief.

DECK: WHAT are you doing?!

CHESTER (cooing playfully): Just relaxing you, O' Barush of the Sands. You're so tense they're bound to notice. 

DECK: Sigh. There's a time and a place...

BOTTOM RIGHT PANEL (angled down, from ahead and left side): A laughing Chester, his arms around Deck's waist.

PAGE FIFTEEN:

TOP RIGHT PANEL (profile): Silhouetted sentry seated atop a weathered dune, a long rifle held in one hand, the disc of the moon behind him.

MIDDLE TIER PANEL (extends down most of the page) panoramic view of the encampment, which is composed of several long tents. A mountainous dune is the backdrop, fully lit by the setting moon. The approaching dots of the riders are visible, skating down the smooth surface. Several Bedouins are scattered across the encampment.

ONE RAIDER (brandishing a rifle overhear and shouting): Wallah! Hassan returns!

BOTTOM PANEL: (narrow strip across the bottom of the page): Riders dismounting amid the tents, with several raiders approaching. Central are Hassan and D & C, who are fighting for their land legs after the harrowing ride.

HASSAN: I will show you to your quarters. Refresh yourselves, and I will spread the good news!

PAGE SIXTEEN:

TOP LEFT PANEL (interior shot of darkened or poorly lit tent): Deck and Chester entering, highlighted from outside by moonlight. Hassan is outside, framed in the narrow opening.

HASSAN: I shall prepare a feast, that you may share your good tidings!

NOTE: Deck has an irate little squiggle over his head, framed in a thought balloon. He's feeling (not unjustly) depressed/doomed.

TOP RIGHT PANEL: Chester, inspecting his lavish surroundings, particularly a pile of tassel trimmed pillows.

CHESTER (first balloon): Now, THIS is more like it! If I'm going to die, I'm gonna' go in style!

MIDDLE TIER PANEL (across page): Chester at far right, in the background, dropping into the heap of pillows -- arms akimbo, a wide smile on his face. Deck, pensive, in the foreground, facing away from the lounger. Tent pole in center of the panel. Various riches piled at strategic intervals. You know -- the usual Arab lounge scenario. 

CHESTER (second balloon): Wonder where you get a beer around here?

BOTTOM LEFT PANEL: Chester in close shot, marveling at the strings of coins he's fished up from his surroundings, and has draped over upraised hands.

CHESTER: Why so glum, Chris? We just wait until they're all busy and then slip away. It's YOUR plan!

BOTTOM RIGHT PANEL (two shot): Deck's arms are crossed and he's trying to be serious in the face of Chester's insane delight at having scraped up a little adventure.

DECK: Hmmph. 

CHESTER: Besides, if we get caught, YOU can probably take them. I've seen you in a bar fight.

PAGE SEVENTEEN:

TOP LEFT PANEL: Deck drops into the pile of cushions at Chester's side.

DECK: Okay, I'll grant you things could be worse. What bothers me is all this talk of treasures and negotiations. Chester, there are NOT nice people.

CHESTER (blithe and smiling): Sighhhhh.

TOP RIGHT PANEL: (two-shot shooting from Deck's left, across him, and highlighting Chester, who's largely visible in front of the seated canine)

CHESTER: They have exquisite taste in guests! So far, they've treated me like royalty.

MIDDLE TIER LEFT PANEL (extends about 2/3 across the page): Chester, leaning back in his nest of silk and satin, hands clasped behind his neck, looking coyly at the canine.

CHESTER: You should try it sometime. You know, Chris, sometimes I don't think you appreciate me enough! 

MIDDLE TIER RIGHT PANEL: (facial shot of a grimacing Deck, his eyes rolling)

DECK: Riiiight.

BOTTOM LEFT PANEL: Deck, dismally ticking off this thoughts, to Chester, who's fully on his back, largely visible as one knee raised to support the other leg, which is crossed over the kneecap.

DECK: My point, which you seem intent on MISSING, is that the bandit you 'borrowed' that stone from is still out there someplace. Probably on his way here to make 'our' report.

BOTTOM RIGHT PANEL (close-up): Chester's ears and eyes, appearing over one of the plumped cushions, as he reacts to Deck's concerns.

DECK (off-scene): This whole situation is one jumble of loose ends waiting to come unraveled.

PAGE EIGHTEEN:

TOP LEFT PANEL: Chester, rising and heading off, stage right. Deck still seated.

CHESTER: Well, if that's all that's bothering you, let's look for the back door!

DECK: NOW you're talking!

TOP RIGHT PANEL (extends further down the page than the left panel): Deck, testing the tent wall fabric at a seam. Stitches are oversized and he decides, may be cut easily.

DECK: I think we can cut our way out here. Let's go!

MIDDLE LEFT PANEL (medium shot): Chester, parting a tent flap and leaning through, as seen from the perspective of the compartment he's entering. His eyes are very wide with unconcealed awe.

CHESTER (hushed): Chris?

BOTTOM LEFT PANEL (Chester at left, shooting over his shoulder and right hip): The room is somewhat lit by moonlight coming through a slit in the fabric roof. It catches and plays with a huge, sprawling heap of coins.

CHESTER: Christophe? I-I think you should see this!

BOTTOM RIGHT PANEL (two shot): Deck and Chester's side, supremely unimpressed. Chester is still looking at his (off-scene) trove, but now looks pained and astonished.

DECK: Very nice, but we don't have time for sightseeing. No matter how nice the view is.

PAGE NINETEEN:

TOP LEFT PANEL: Chester, facing right, arms stretched wide in appeal.

CHESTER (outraged): Deck! We can't leave this behind! Think of the drinks it'd buy! The good times! The BRIBES!

TOP CENTER PANEL: Deck, approaching a dark opening in the tent, half turned in response and scowling.

DECK: Sooo, just how fast can you run with your arms full of gold?

TOP RIGHT PANEL: Chester, facing forward, arms folded, looking dismal. The canine has a valid point and he hates it. In the background, Deck is vanishing through the dark aperture, his body visible from the waist down.

MIDDLE TIER LEFT PANEL: Chester, bending over the treasure, his head up and back as he reacts to a loud "KLANG" from somewhere behind him.

CHESTER: Chris?

MIDDLE TIER RIGHT PANEL: Chester, crossing l to r, at a fast trot.

BOTTOM LEFT PANEL: Darkened chamber, Chester, highlighted from the open doorway behind him, in extreme lean. He's tripped over something and is colliding with something else.

BALLOON (alarm): EEEE!

BOTTOM RIGHT PANEL (one-shot, Deck, shooting down at an angle): Deck, rubbing his head and propping himself up from the dirt floor of the pavilion. A badly dented metal pitcher lies nearby. Deck's eyes are wide: he's seeing something unexpected.

DECK: Oww! Ches, what'd I...!

PAGE TWENTY:

TOP LEFT PANEL (vertical and about 2/3 down the page): Full figure of a struggling female in the obligatory harem outfit, Chester standing behind her, holding her hands above her head and struggling to keep her off the prone canine. Deck's head and one shoulder are visible to one side at the bottom of the panel.

PRINCESS (angry balloon): Release me!

TOP RIGHT PANEL (side view of the three): Deck standing lopsided, his hand still to his head, which is bleeding slightly, wincing. Chester and his captive at the left.

DECK: What did she HIT me with?

CHESTER: That pitcher.

MIDDLE TIER RIGHT PANEL: Shot of the girl's booted foot as she kicks Deck painfully in the shin.

DECK: I hope I ruined it.

CHESTER: Don't worry. You did.

DECK (loudly): YEEEE!!

BOTTOM PANEL: Deck, his snarling face (tears gathering in his eyes) close to the defiant female's. Chester's still gripping her from behind, savoring the confrontation.

DECK: LOOK, lady! Lay off a minute. We are the 'good guys', not your little friends! People just DON'T treat us like this!

CHESTER: Ooooo! Tongue lash her AGAIN, Chris! You've got her reeling.

HASSAN (balloon coming in from off-scene): Ah, Master?

PAGE TWENTY-ONE:

TOP LEFT PANEL (facial reaction of all three, heads wheeling to regard the panel front, and the unseen Hassan. Deck's hands are claws of frustration, a few inches from the Princess's throat. Shared exclamation point in balloon?

TOP RIGHT PANEL: Hassan, standing in the doorway, framed between Chester and the princess's back and upraised arms. Chester is both are facing the raider, who has a questioning look on his face.

CHESTER: Er, Barush was just beating some sense into this wicked girl, Hassan.

MIDDLE TIER LEFT PANEL (small): Facial shot of a distressed Deck reacting to the next words.

CHESTER (off-scene): Hit her again, Barush!

MIDDLE TIER CENTER PANEL: Facial of Deck, the little gears visibly turning. This is NOT a golden moment. Chester's put him on the spot yet another time.

DECK (wavery -- uncertain balloon?): Mmm, perhaps later. I...wish to savor the pleasure of her screams.

MIDDLE TIER RIGHT PANEL: Hassan, thinking about this.

HASSAN: I recall no screams, O' Brother of the Sands.

BOTTOM LEFT PANEL: Deck in foreground, a slightly skeptical Princess and Chester behind him. Deck has his arm around Hassan's narrow shoulders and is bluffing for all he's worth.

DECK: They were small screams, Hassan, but they spoke WORLDS of her torment.

HASSAN: Oh, I see. Will there be anything else, O' Lord?

BOTTOM RIGHT PANEL: Chester in group shot, as Hassan leaves.

CHESTER: No, Hassan. Assemble the men. We will be there shortly.

PAGE TWENTY-TWO:

TOP LEFT PANEL: Deck, whirling on the ringtail.

DECK: 'Hit her again, Barush'?! Hit her AGAIN??!

TOP RIGHT PANEL: Chester, somewhat relaxing her hold on the captive, who's rolled her eyes around to look back in his general direction.

CHESTER (balloon one): You'll have to trust us. We're not exactly from around here. Tourists, really.

PRINCESS (thought balloon): ?

CHESTER (balloon two): If I release you, you'll have to make nice to Doggie.

MIDDLE LEFT PANEL: The princess, released and rubbing some feeling back into one arm. She's still looking nettled and not completely convinced. Deck, whose shin still smarts, is putting Chester between himself and the female.

PRINCESS: Perhaps. I have seen Barush and Hassan. Ineffectual  louts who snatched me from my father's gardens and sent me here. They wish to bargain for water rights. How did they come to mistake you for...

DECK: Long story, No time. We have to be going, miss.

MIDDLE RIGHT PANEL: Deck, still facing to the princess. All three are wincing at an off-scene cry:

DECK: If you'll excuse us...

BALLOON: Wallahhh! Impostors!

BOTTOM LEFT PANEL (three-shot): Deck, eyes closed in resignation, The Princess, looking off-scene in perturbation. Chester's stage left, peering out through the doorway to the main portion of the tent.

DECK: Oops.

CHESTER: I believe your ineffectual louts are home, and would like a word with us.

DECK: Crud!

BOTTOM RIGHT PANEL (narrow): Deck, attacking the canvas wall with his sword to make a handy escape hatch.

DECK: Well? Don't just stand there!

PAGE TWENTY-THREE:

TOP LEFT PANEL: Outside of the tent, with Deck leading the party gingerly out into the darkness. Their surroundings are indistinct, largely large, shapeless objects. The moonlight only picks up the upper curve of the animals, for the moment leaving the specifics unseen.

CHESTER: (sniffing unhappily) Phew!

DECK: A horse pen. What luck.

PRINCESS: NOT necessarily. They use the beasts to guard the camp. They are fighting steeds.

TOP RIGHT PANEL: Deck bumping into the broad chest of one of the animals, which inspects him with open disfavor.

DECK: M-maybe we could bluff our way out?

MIDDLE TIER LEFT PANEL (two-shot): Deck and the horse. The canine has leaned over and has siezed/is contentedly munching on the shoulder of the stricken canine's robe. 

MIDDLE TIER RIGHT PANEL: The Princess, leaning forward to inspect the animal, holding a reluctant Deck by the lapel of his robe. so that he won't retreat. Deck's staring at the hole in his robe, and is gingerly feeling the shoulder for imagined damage.

PRINCESS: Their stamina is legendary. I think this one will do.

DECK (warily): Do what?

BOTTOM LEFT PANEL: Guards, swarming in front of a fabric barrier (the outer wall of the horse pen).

GUARD # 1: They must be near!

GUARD # 2: Barush promises sixty coins for the grey one's ears!

BOTTOM RIGHT PANEL: The horse crashes out through the barrier, bearing three huddled escapees. The guards are scattering and diving into the sand.

CHESTER (loudly): Gangway!

PAGE TWENTY-FOUR:

TOP LEFT PANEL: (long shot) The horse, running out-of-control over the sands.

DECK: Whoa! Whoa! Come on! WHOA!

PRINCESS (in an ironic tone): Famed horsemen, are you?

TOP RIGHT: Deck, rounding on the Princess, seen over his shoulder.

DECK: Look, this was YOUR idea...

MIDDLE TIER LEFT PANEL: Skewed view of the horse as the desert abruptly drops out from under foot. Riders half spilling from its back, it skids down a paved incline.

MIDDLE TIER CENTER PANEL: Deck, sprawling forward on the steed's back, barking his chin against the thick neck. The Princess jars forward against his back. Chester, vaguely erect, looks around.

DECK: Whoof!

CHESTER: Where are we?

MIDDLE TIER RIGHT PANEL (long shot, with the riders fairly distant): The surroundings are a concrete trough with steeply angled walls. The walls divits into large squares. The channel is white, the sky above black.

PRINCESS: No! We have fallen into one of my father's irrigation channels.

BOTTOM LEFT PANEL: Deck, righting himself and looking off into the distance, down the trough.

DECK: Getting out doesn't look easy, but maybe we can follow it to civilization.

BOTTOM RIGHT PANEL: Princess, shaking her head, looking extremely worried. Chester, behind her, is less serious about their situation.

PRINCESS: You do not understand!

CHESTER: He seldom does.

PAGE TWENTY-FIVE:

TOP PANEL: Close-up of the group, atop the horse,which is beginning to look truculent and bored.

PRINCESS: Our pumping stations release millions of gallons of water into the sluiceway every hour. That maintains a steady flow across the desert.

DECK (irate): So?

OVERHANGING SOUND EFFECT: RUMMMMMMBLE

DECK (the dawn is breaking for him): Uh, just curious, but can these fighting steeds float?

PRINCESS: No, they are much too heavy!

MIDDLE TIER LEFT PANEL: The trio, looking up and back as a shadow overtakes them.

MIDDLE TIER RIGHT PANEL: The wave arrives, carrying the horse and its struggling riders along, largely submerged.

BOTTOM LEFT PANEL: Deck, underwater, gripping the Princess' wrist. Chester's clinging to Deck for all he's worth. Strong current lines on undewater scenes.

BOTTOM RIGHT PANEL: Deck's head breaks water.  The surface of the flow is ragged. He lifts his hand, dragging the Princess and ringtail's heads above water. Heavy splashing effects around the hand and heads, which interrupt the flow.

PAGE TWENTY-SIX:

TOP LEFT PANEL: Deck, struggling to keep the others afloat, being whipped along by the rushing current. Their combined weight is beginning to force him under.

TOP RIGHT PANEL (underwater shot): Deck's rolled around, and is underwater, still trying to keep the others up.

MIDDLE TIER LEFT PANEL: Deck and the others' heads in the rushing water. Deck, slightly in the lead (away from viewer) , is reacting to an approaching wall, where the viaduct angles away.

MIDDLE TIER RIGHT PANEL (3/4 across the tier): Water level shot of Deck. He's managed to bring his feet up and  one booted foot and leg show above the rushing water. He's going to try to repel off the rock solid wall, which is rushing up on them.

BOTTOM LEFT PANEL: The current turns Deck. One shoulder is high above the water, and he's staring at the wall, now only about two feet away.

DECK (thought balloon): !

BOTTOM RIGHT PANEL: Deck slams violently against the wall. Face contorts in pain. Chester raising above the water, arcing slightly away from the canine, who's lost his grip in the force of the collision. The Princess's head is close-by. Deck's still managed to maintain his grip on her.

PAGE TWENTY-SEVEN:

TOP LEFT PANEL (vertical, about 1/2 down the page): Deck and the others sinking, shot from below. Deck's highest, a thin cloud of blood wafting down as he descends toward Chester and the Princess. Little streams of bubbles from their noses?

TOP RIGHT PANEL (Facial shot, underwater): Chester looking back and up at Deck, who's limp and obviously out cold from the impact.

CHESTER (thinking): Chris!

MIDDLE TIER RIGHT PANEL: Chester has hold of the canine's tunic, and is trying to drag him toward the surface, without success.

CHESTER (thinking): No good! Too heavy!

BOTTOM LEFT PANEL (facial close-up): Chester, alarmed as he twists his head around to see something.

BOTTOM RIGHT PANEL: Drain in the bottom of the channel. Current lines whipping down to this. It's now pulling them down rapidly.

PAGE TWENTY-EIGHT:

TOP LEFT PANEL: Princess and Chester in the foreground, reacting to the off-scene drain, pushing and prodding the unconscious Deck. Current lines around them.

CHESTER (thinking): Chris, you've got to snap out of it NOW!!

TOP LEFT PANEL (vertical, down page): Deck's head, shot upward from around waist point. A hand with splayed fingers is being thrust down toward him, from somewhere above the flood.

MIDDLE TIER LEFT PANEL (medium shot):  A limp Deck, being pulled out of the water by a muscled guard in a uniform. A definite peg above Hassan and company's clothing. Chester's tight against his chest, clinging, his eyes only partly opened. Princess is still in the unconscious canine's grip.

MIDDLE TIER RIGHT PANEL: Deck, unconscious on the ground, Chester looking weakly up at their rescuer, who's only visible from this perspective as a pair of booted feet.

BOTTOM LEFT PANEL: Chester, prone, with two well-armed guards standing over him, one half-supporting the sagging princess.

 BOTTOM RIGHT PANEL: Chester, losing consciousness.

CHESTER: Ohhhh...

PAGE TWENTY-NINE:

TOP LEFT PANEL (narrow) Deck's head, side view, with a moist cloth on his forehead. He's beginning to come around.

DECK (balloon #1): Unhhh, my head...

DECK (balloon #2 -- ragged edges to express alarm): CHESTER? Where are you?!

TOP RIGHT PANEL (long, horizontal rectangle): Overhead shot of Deck, lying in the "Nest," angled diagonally l to r. He's wearing a striped pair of  jockey shorts. He's slightly raised on one supporting elbow. Chester's in upper mid-panel, coming into the retreat by way of the small doorway. Whatever little he's wearing, the new gemstone's conspicuously dangling from a chain around his neck.

CHESTER: Easy, Chris. I'm here! Nyeesha's family guards rescued us. In gratitude, they'll get us our parts. I brought you back to the ship to mend.

MIDDLE TIER LEFT PANEL: Deck crossing his legs and sitting up. Chester cross-legged, facing him from back of panel.

CHESTER: Heh-heh! Anyway, it's not a total waste!

DECK: What do you mean?

MIDDLE RIGHT TIER: Chester, brandishing a bag of coins, and spilling some out onto the mattress.

CHESTER (proudly): I brought these from the raider camp! THIS ought to pay for our trouble.

BOTTOM LEFT PANEL (narrow shot -- facial close-up): Deck, inspecting one of the coins. Something's clearly up.

DECK (ragged thought balloon): !

BOTTOM CENTER PANEL (two-shot, chest and facial focus): Deck, still holding the coin, and a reacting ringtail.

DECK: Er, Ches? You know of any OTHER planets on the 'brass' standard?

CHESTER: Brass?

DECK: We're going to have to spend your little trove HERE. I hope you like figs!

BOTTOM RIGHT PANEL (round): External shot of the Half Moon, shot from 3/4 angle, slightly below centerline, squatting on the landing pad, with the rising sun in the background.

SCREAM BALLOON: AAAAAHHHHH!

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