my_b7_fic: Avon karate chopping (Default)
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Written for the Blakes 7 Birthday Buffet Ficathon


"There aren't any mutoid pilots in stock that match the Commissioner's requirements, sir," the officer in charge of troop assignments said to her superior, after checking the roster twice.

"Well, then you'll just have to omit one requirement. Which has the Commissioner put as the lowest priority?"

The officer scanned the requisition. "Gender, sir." He changed the search parameters and looked at the results. "There's a female pilot that matches. Superior in markmanship, intelligence, tactical knowledge, and negotiations." She opened the file. "Commendations for efficiency from Space Commander Travis during the Project Avalon affair."

Her superior looked at the holo of the mutoid. "Physically attractive, too. Good. Assign this one to Commissioner Sleer."

--



Sleer walked past her new mutoid without bothering to look at it. She was still slightly annoyed that a suitable male hadn't been available. Perhaps she had been hasty ordering Avon's execution on Gauda Prime. 'Killing' the android Blake had driven him insane, but the mutoid process would have blanked him, rendering him usable. Still, it wouldn't have been the same.

"Set a course for Earth!"

"Yes, Commissioner," the mutoid replied blandly.

A few hours later, Sleer returned to the flight deck. There was a smell... she looked down and saw in horror that she'd stepped into a pool of green. She gasped and whirled to look at her mutoid crew. Three of them slumped in their seats, faces no blanker than usual despite the neat holes in their foreheads and the green spatters on their uniforms.

Sleer whirled again at a cool voice and stared at the fourth mutoid; the new one, who she now realized was tantalizingly familiar. "They were already dead," the mutoid said. "Like my sister. I just put their bodies to rest."

"Your sister?" Sleer said as a distraction as she tried to back away. Did mutoids ever go insane?

"Her name was Bobbijo," the mutoid said, raising her gun, indicating that she didn't wish Sleer to move. "We were identical twins. When we were... separated, I thought she was dead. When Orac found her for me... well, I wished she was dead. And now she is."

"You're one of Avon's crew... Soolin, the marksman? But they're all dead."

"Not quite. One of your men liked blondes. He thought he'd play for a while, and kill me later. He thought wrong." Cool blue eyes stared at Sleer.

"How? How could you...?"

"Does it matter? I'd learned what I needed from my friends. I found my sister and put her to sleep so I could take her place. I fixed the records so I would be assigned to you. And here I am." The gun raised again.

"No! Don't! I can make you rich! Or power, I can give you power! I can give you anything you wish!"

"Can you? Can you bring back my lover; can you bring back my friends? Can you make me as I was?" Soolin swept off her helmet, revealing her shaven skull. "Can you bring back my sister and family? Can you give me back my childhood?"

Sleer shrank against the bulkhead. "How can you blame me for all that?"

"Why not? You're here." Soolin shot Sleer between the eyes. She smiled as the corpse slid to the deck in a heap of black feathers. "I told you I'd do it, Dayna. Sleep in peace, my love."


(I used the prompt #8. Soolin takes the place of her mutoid sister after GP in order to get revenge on Servalan.)

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December 2011

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