Farscape: House of Cards

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Macmillan, May 15, 2001 - Fiction - 199 pages
The pleasure planet Liantac was once the greatest gambling resort in the Unchartered Territories. Even now, having fallen on hard times, it remains a spectacle of glitz and greed. Astronaut John Crichton and his fellow interstellar fugitives see Liantac as the source of much-needed supplies--except for Rygel, whose boundless avarice is tempted by the promise of easy riches.

Imagine his shock, then, when he loses their starship, Moya, in a game of chance!

To discharge the debt, and liberate their ship from the planetary authorities, Crichton, Aeryn, and the others must take on a number of challenging assignments. But all is not what it seems, for treachery and deadly intrigue hides within this...House of Cards.

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User Review  - lycomayflower - LibraryThing

One of the few tie-in novels of the show Farscape and from what I gather, the only one worth reading. This one was a lot of fun. It read like an episode of the show, with the dialogue ... Read full review

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About the author (2001)


Rygel flipped his cards over. "Four priestesses. I win again."
John Crichton snarled, threw his cards on the table, and got up out of his chair. "Enough. I''m gonna owe you my module at this rate."
The Hynerian''s tiny form quivered with laughter. "Only if you put it in the pot. Though don''t think I don''t appreciate all the food cubes you''ve lost to me." Rotating his flying ThroneSled ninety degrees, he popped one of those cubes into his oversized mouth.
Shaking his head, Crichton sighed. "Yeah, I''m sure they''ll last you at least a few minutes."
Rygel started shuffling the twenty-eight-card deck. "Care for another chance at winning your cubes back?"
"Remind me, Sparky," Crichton said as he sat back down, "why did I let you talk me into learning this game?"
"Because Haunan doesn''t work with only one player, and no one else on this ship has even come close to comprehending it. Zhaan refuses to gamble, D''Argo couldn''t seem to wrap his poor Luxan brain around the rules, and Aeryn wouldn''t even sit down with me to learn it."
"What about Chiana?"
The wisps of white hair that jutted from Rygel''s cheeks twitched as he shuffled, but he said nothing.
Crichton smiled. "Wait, let me guess--she beat the pants off you? Or she would have, if you wore pants."
"I prefer an opponent who stimulates me," Rygel retorted, with a haughty sniff. "And while Chiana has many virtues--"
"You''re only ''stimulated'' by winning, right?" Crichton tossed a food cube into the middle of the table as an ante. "Fine, Maverick, one more hand. Deal."
The deposed dominar of the Hynerian Empire dealt a card face down to both Crichton and himself. Crichton peeked at the card, and saw that it was a paladin, which meant it was all but useless.
Haunan was an odd game. Rygel had been after Crichton to learn it for some months, and Crichton had finally broken down earlier in the day, out of boredom as much as anything. It was just similar enough to poker for Crichton to be able to follow the basics. You get six cards, of which you can use four; you''re dealt two cards, one up, one down, and then you bet; repeat that process until you have six cards, three showing that everyone can see, three down that only you can see; and the highest hand wins. It was just different enough from anything Crichton had ever seen to confuse the hell out of him and give him the mother of all headaches.
Still, it wasn''t like he had anything better to do. Moya, their sentient, bio-mechanoid Leviathan ship, was resting between StarBursts in this uninhabited star system. Crichton had done as much maintenance on the Farscape I module as he could with the materials at hand. The rest of Moya''s crew were busy with other occupations or duties.
That left Crichton in the unusual position of hanging out with Rygel.
When John Crichton found himself on the Leviathan after his space shuttle, Farscape I, had torn through a worm-hole and zipped him halfway across the galaxy, he''d become a member of a very strange crew. Though Pa''u Zotoh Zhaan and Ka D''Argo were both convicted murderers, Rygel XVI, a "mere" political exile, was the hardest to warm to. Whatever crimes they may or may not have committed, they had all been incarcerated by the Peacekeepers--who were sort of a combination of the Mafia, the Green Berets, and Genghis Khan''s army. Even Moya, the Leviathan, had been enslaved by the Peacekeepers as a prisoner transport ship.
Rygel had been the one who broke all three of them out of their cells. Soon thereafter they had removed the control collar that the Peacekeepers had placed on Moya and freed her as well. They''d been on the run ever since, hiding in the Uncharted Territories, theoretically out of the Peacekeepers'' jurisdiction. However, they''d learned the hard way over the two cycles since then that the Peacekeepers had a very fluid idea of what constituted their jurisdiction.
Crichton often suspected that the only reason why the arrogant, obnoxious Hynerian--who rarely had anything practical to contribute--hadn''t met with the business end of an airlock early on was out of gratitude.
Still, Rygel had had his uses. His political and gambling skills had saved their bacon on more than one occasion. Even his size had proven useful. Once when only his small hands could reach a Peacekeeper device that needed to be removed. And another time when his rear end plugged a hole in Moya''s inner hull, saving Crichton and Chiana from explosive decompression.
And, truth be known, Crichton did feel sorry for the little guy. A firefight with an alien ship had led to Crichton''s mind briefly inhabiting Rygel''s body, and it had not been a pleasurable experience. Everything burbled or gurgled or emitted a noxious odor, and those tiny Hynerian arms and legs were even more impractical than they looked--which Crichton hadn''t thought possible until that moment. The whole experience had been a lot like walking around in a sewer. After six hundred cycles trapped in that bod, Crichton had thought at the time, I''d be a whiny bastard, too.
As Rygel dealt Crichton a queen, D''Argo''s deep, resonant voice sounded over the comm. "John, can you come to the Command?"
"What''s up, D''Argo?"
"It looks like we have a visitor. Pilot''s picked up a trading ship heading right for us."
"We''re in the ass end of nowhere," Crichton replied. "It''s the Uncharted Territories'' equivalent of South Dakota. What the hell''s a trading ship doing here?"
"That''s why we want you up here," D''Argo said patiently. "Zhaan and Aeryn are on their way up as well."
"Rygel and I''ll be right there."
There was a pause. "Fine."
Crichton couldn''t help but chuckle. D''Argo probably hadn''t realized that Rygel was with Crichton, and the Luxan obviously wasn''t thrilled with the Hynerian being present. But then, D''Argo was never happy when Rygel was around.
In fact, it was rare that Q''Argo was happy, period.
Crichton hurried from the cargo bay, where he and Rygel had been playing Haunan, to the Command, Rygel''s ThroneSled right behind him. All the corridors on Moya essentially looked the same--it had taken Crichton months just to nail down the routes to and from his quarters. And even after all this time, there were still parts of the ship he wasn''t completely familiar with. However, the parts he knew, he could navigate in his sleep.
Zhaan and Aeryn entered the Command from the corridor opposite Crichton and Rygel. D''Argo and Chiana were already present. A small holographic image of Pilot was visible in one corner, piped in from his den.
On the big viewscreen in front was a small ship. It didn''t look like much of anything, but ships rarely did from the outside.
Pilot''s gentle voice sounded over the speakers. "They identify themselves as a free trader. They have minimal weaponry, which is not presently armed."
Minimal weaponry was still more than Moya had. The sum total of the Leviathan''s tactical systems was a balky defense screen salvaged from a Peacekeeper hulk. "Have you answered them yet, Pilot?" Crichton asked.
"No. We were waiting to hear from all of you. Moya is concerned, but she cannot StarBurst for another half an arn, and that ship is faster than we are."
Zhaan looked at the others with her trademark serene gaze. Crichton always wondered how much of that was the Delvian''s many centuries as a priest and how much was simply the overwhelming blue of her eyes against her equally blue skin. "I believe we should listen to what they have to say," she said.
"Me, too," Crichton chimed in quickly, grateful that at least one other person would take his side. Especially as he expected either Aeryn or D''Argo to disagree.
"Absolutely not," the two of them stated, in perfect unison. Crichton sighed.
Like Crichton, Aeryn Sun had been brought on board Moya during the prisoners'' escape from the Peacekeepers. The irony was, Aeryn had been one of the officers assigned to stop them. Her contact with Crichton, D''Argo, Zhaan and Rygel had led to her being declared contaminated by alien influence--a capital crime among the Peacekeepers. Rather than face a death sentence, she had remained on Moya, and had become a valued part of the team in general.
And a very important person to John Crichton in particular.
Chiana spoke up. "Well, we don''t have anything to lose by talking to them." She was leaning on one of the consoles, her slate-grey skin and matching outfit standing out against the dull browns and golds of the console. She wasn''t quite standing up straight. Then again, Chiana always seemed to stand at about a twenty-degree angle to the rest of the universe--both literally and morally.
"They''re hailing us again," Pilot said. "They say that they have been searching for a Leviathan for some time."
"Look, they''re a trading ship," Rygel said. "If they need a Leviathan specifically, it''s probably for something that they''d be willing to pay us for."
D''Argo snarled. "Money would be the first thing you think of,"
"Pip''s right," Crichton said, agreeing with Chiana. "We don''t have anything to lose by talking to them."
"Fine," Aeryn conceded, "I''m willing to talk."
Crichton looked at D''Argo, who simply snarled again.
"I''ll take that as a yes. Pilot, open a channel."
Times like this, Crichton thought, I wish I could make like Captain Picard and say that we come in peace. Sadly, reality didn''t work like that. They met precious few people out here who had peaceful intentions. And the ones who do usually want to screw us over some other way, he reflected.
The face that appe

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