Buyers, Funds and Irony (part 4 of 4) (general readers)

[my_b7_fic]

Servalan walked into the chamber and nodded. Avon was strapped to a wire-frame sphere head downward so that they were at eye level, albeit his position was reversed.


Avon showed her his teeth. "You may as well kill me now, and save yourself considerable time. I won't give you anything."

Servalan laughed. "You're such an innocent, Avon. It's not a matter of choice, you see." She caressed his hair. "My people can take everything that makes you a unique creature. Everything. We can store it. We can..." She stroked his mouth. "duplicate it... along with the body...You've given me yourself, Avon, that's all I need."

"If that's true, then why didn't you do it on Terminal? You had me." Avon laughed. "There's some reason you can't, isn't there... Sleer."

Servalan slapped him across the mouth, then paused to wipe up the trickle of blood with her fingertip and bring it to her lips. "There is always some... small... loss. It's not difficult to disguise when dealing with other humans but... I need specific information from you, Avon."

"What do you want? If it's the directions to Hell, I'll gladly give you that."

"Star One."

Avon laughed again. "It's gone, hadn't you noticed?"

"Yes." Servalan nodded. "But it could be built again, to your design."

"Your design, you mean." Avon's fists clenched uselessly. "No. Humanity can enslave themselves without my help."

"You don't have any choice in the matter, Avon. No more than you chose to take a Space-Chopper and come here."

Avon stared at her.

"On Terminal... I added a little something..." Servalan stroked Avon's forehead. "In here. It forced you to me."

"Nothing forced me here. I came because ..." Avon closed his mouth, realizing that whatever he said, she would use it against him.

"You're lying, Avon. I always know. Don't worry. Soon I'll take it away. All of it."

She began attaching leads to a device that lay beside the globe. "It's been digging into your brain, harvesting what I need to know."

Avon gritted his teeth for a moment, then replied, "You're lying. If you were doing that, then there was no reason for the elaborate illusion of Blake."

"Oh, yes, there was. Thinking about Blake made you vulnerable... it gave me a direct route to all the little secrets you hide, even from yourself."

--

Vila frowned at Orac, sitting on the table on the flight deck, blinking to itself. "At least Avon could have left a message, the way Blake did when he went off to sulk."

Orac replied, "He did. I was instructed to play it when someone mentioned it." The main monitor showed an image of Avon. Avon opened his mouth, and Vila said hastily, "Freeze it there, Orac, I've got to get the others."

--

The message from Avon played once everyone was gathered around the flight deck. "Servalan is never going to give up hunting me. I realize that now. I'm tired of running. Perhaps I can do a deal with her. Perhaps I can kill her. I don't know. But I do know that I can get Blake out of her grasp. At least that's something salvaged." There was a pause as if Avon was trying to think of something to add. "Tell Blake... no... Good luck. I've a feeling you'll be needing it." The screen went blank.

Cally told Tarrant, "You see how you misread him?"

"Yes," Tarrant replied, keeping his thoughts to himself. After the business with Anna, it had occurred to him that Avon's keen survival sense was at odds with an intermittent death-wish.

Cally then turned to face the others, "This doesn't change anything."

"What's not changed?" Atlan asked.

"The plan. Why we brought you here."

Bekhesh said, "Nobody brought me. I volunteered. I am the Holy Warrior of Turu. "

Cally looked as if her patience was wearing thin. "What I am saying is that you were willing to help save Blake. We'll simply use the same plan to rescue Avon."

Bekhesh said, "Excuse me. You're forgetting one thing."

Tarrant asked, "What?"

"My people came on this 'adventure' for one reason. You said you could pay us."

Atlan nodded, "That's right."

Cally said, "Well that's true, but..."

Bekhesh pressed for an answer, "Have you any currency now?"

Vila said, "Well, um... we did have currency... ah, but what we thought was currency actually turned into, um, creatures... and they ah, they--they were alive and we--we had to radiate the ship..."

Bekhesh said, "Yes, yes, yes. I understand that. But you see my problem, don't you? I don't do anything unless I get paid. And since you no longer have currency..."

Atlan drew his gun and held it on Tarrant and Cally. Vila flinched. Dayna growled, but stood still as Bekhesh pulled out a small weapon from someplace inside the voluminous folds of his robe. "We talked it over. Liberator is now ours." He aimed at Vila.

Tarrant said, "Go on, shoot him."

Vila said, "Tarrant!"

Bekhesh hesitated. Tarrant snapped, "You're an embarrassment, Bekhesh."

Vila groaned softly, "Tarrant..."

Tarrant laughed at Bekhesh. "You're worse than an embarrassment. You're an idiot."

Vila stage-whispered, "What are you *doing*?"

Tarrant went on, ignoring Vila. "There are thirty thousand containers in the Shadow Depository filled with riches that you could have, but you'd rather point a gun at a harmless thief."

Bekhesh said, "You can't shame me into going with you. Not again."

Tarrant smiled. "I wouldn't go into battle with either of you now-- Do you know why? Because you aren't simply cowards. You're idiots to boot. What do you think you are going to get if you steal Liberator? The whole universe will be after you, including the rebellion! The Federation won't pay a credit in bounty, not when they can blast you to dust because you haven't the faintest idea how to handle this ship. You have to be the two stupidest mercenaries I've ever met, and I thought I'd seen them all. You make Bayban look like a genius!"

Atlan shouted, "I'm not stupid!" and turned his gun on Tarrant.

At that moment Blake stumbled onto the flight deck, mumbling something about Avon and Travis and Bran Foster, guns and blood and death, and voices in his mind, all jumbled together. Stark clung to Blake's sleeve, being dragged along in his wake.

Before Atlan and Bekhesh could recover from their surprise, four guns were trained on them, even Vila having got his weapon unholstered in record time. It was a stalemate; no one dared to shoot, or to put away their weapons.

Tarrant shouted, "Stay where you are and remain calm! Everybody, keep calm."

Cally said quietly, to both Bekhesh and Atlan, "You don't have the numbers. Give it up."

Blake seemed to suddenly realize what was happening. He lunged at Atlan's weapon. "No, not Cally! Not Cally, too!"

Atlan grabbed Blake, twisting Blake's arm behind his back and using him as a shield against the others. Bekhesh sprang at the same moment to get Vila, dragging him into position in front of himself.

Atlan shouted, "Your whole plan reeks, gooks! I want--"

Stark started flapping his arms wildly and circling Atlan, while shouting, "I want! I want! My side, your side! All of you-- I want!"

Atlan stared at him, "What's the matter with you, half-face?!

"Matter, matter, I'll tell you 'matter'. Anti-matter-matter-matter-matter-matter!"

Blake had gone limp, quietly sobbing in terror when Atlan seized him. Atlan pushed Blake away from himself as he circled, fascinated by Stark.

"Servalan killed ten thousand of my people!" Stark shouted. "Ten thousand cast into space. Ten thousand souls screaming in my brain! The chair, the chair, remember the chair!"

Atlan asked, "What chair?! This gook is crazy!"

Stark grinned at Atlan. "Are you coming? Do you agree-- agree?"

"Will you fight like this down there?"

"Of course, of course, no hands, no hands!" Giggling like a maniac, Stark held up his baggy sleeves, so that his hands were hidden.

"Then I change my mind, Bekhesh!" Atlan threw one arm around Stark's shoulders. "This one has the spirit of a Space Rat! But I want money! And plenty of it. Speed costs!"

Cally "You'll get it. You'll all get it. So, are we agreed? We are going to rescue Avon?"

Bekhesh hesitated, then looked at Stark. "Madmen are supposed to be lucky." He hesitated a moment longer, looking at all the guns now aimed at him, including Atlan's. "Yes, yes! So long as we're well paid!"

--

Back on the Shadow Depository, Servalan adjusted a device similar to an oversize laser-probe held in a frame above Avon's head and then began setting a series of dials and switches on a complicated control panel attached to the device by wires.

Travis looked at Avon. "Sleer, tell me something. Why are you so interested in this man?"

Servalan smiled. "I have a use for him."

Travis's eye narrowed. "What are you doing to him? Why don't you just take him and leave?"

"I must soften his neural receptors to see if my probe in his brain has reached the information I need. If it has then I will call my command ship back and leave here."

Avon laughed. "She wants to destroy the human race."

Servlan glanced up from the device. "You overestimate me, Avon. That was never my intent, despite what Travis was told. Domination is so much more profitable." She stroked Avon's hair, careful not to disturb the connections. "And there are... advantages to this shape. My people do not enjoy sex, for example."

"Servalan's body must have been a revelation for you." Avon's eyes shifted as he gave Travis a contemptuous glance. "Even without a suitable partner."

Travis growled, but said nothing.

Servalan laughed brightly. "Oh, Avon, you do amuse me. If you survive this, I might even consider keeping you as a pet." She turned a knob on her control panel, and Avon's eyes went wide as he gasped with pain.

--

In Liberator's cargo bay, Stark explained his plan. "...and all the doors are cross-synchronized so, when you're... here, I'm... here. And-and everything's perfectly timed because we're on a silent count. Right?"

He turned to Atlan. "Right? Right? You pay attention! If one piece of this plan fails, then the entire plan fails! You got it?! You got it?! "

"Look, gook, all I understand is that I'm going down first!"

"With Bekhesh," Stark said.

"Great! We're going down to the flagging depository... while you all stay up here, out of danger."

Vila had been watching from the background, wearing his tooth necklace. "They don't know you. You can find Avon without arousing suspicion."

Bekhesh grimaced. "What are you doing with those teeth?"

Vila grinned, "They're from old enemies. I like that they can't talk back."

Stark said, "As soon as you locate Avon, then the rest of us will follow straight down."

"And then Bekhesh will destroy the depository's generator."

Atlan grunted. "Why don't I get that job? I like blowing things up!"

"Because you don't have any explosive collars you can pretend are jewelry!"

Bekhesh asked, "How will I know when to blow the generator?"

Stark snapped, "I told you! We'll all be on a silent count for the entire battle!"

Bekhesh blinked. "A-a silent count? *While* we're fighting?!"

"Yes! It's easy!"

Atlan said, "It's flaggin' complicated. And all my men will be attacking the satellite at the same time?"

"Yes!" Stark nodded vigorously. "They're fast, fast, you see! So the defenses won't see them, yes?"

Atlan pointed at Bekhesh, "And what do his robed gooks do?"

"The Amagons will deploy The Web, using force-fields to each place a portion of it in a mathematically precise pattern around the Shadow ships."

"The Web, what the flaggin' 'ell is The Web?!

"The Web will be a net that will trap any ship coming after you!"

Atlan snorted. "A net? They stay up here opening a net... while I'm down there risking my life!"

Bekhesh said, "What's the point of a plan, if you don't get away at the end?"

--

Blake was in his old quarters, looking bemused. Tarrant stood in front of him. "Look, Blake, I know you're not in... well, you're not feeling too well. But we need you to tell us what you remember of the Depository... the places in it that aren't open to the public. Where did they hold you? Where are they likely to keep Avon? What might they..."

"NO!" Blake put his hands to his face again. "No! I won't, I can't!"

"But Avon, Blake... I thought you'd want to ..."

Blake looked up with a sudden flash of anger. "I've been running, trying to survive. I've been places, done things... you've no idea, boy."

Tarrant kept his temper. "I realize that."

"No, you don't. You only think you do." Blake made a claw out of his fingers and traced his nails lightly over his scar. "There was a phrase in the outlawed religions, Tarrant... funny how these fragments survive because of the poetry in them... 'If thine eye offend thee, pluck it out...' " Blake stared at Tarrant, lopsidedly. "I tried, Tarrant."

--

Tarrant leaped out of the shuttle first and led the way into the central reception area. customers milled about frantically, trying to escape the station and getting in the way of guards who were trying to reach their assigned emergency stations. Cally followed him, cutting through the crowd by blasting a few random holes in the deck to get their attention.

Dayna and Stark followed, both of them grinning and waving weapons and assorted small bombs about like maniacs. Anyone who saw them fled in the direction of Cally and Tarrant, preferring to face hardened mercenaries than lunatics with unknown weapons.

--

Servalan had been listening in to the command frequencies. She broke in through the panic and ordered every available guard mobilized and stationed on standby outside the main chamber.

--

Travis stared at his monitor, which was now divided into external and internal views of the station. The debris from destroyed Shadow ships floated outside, jagged metals and burst bodies intermingled. People ran randomly inside the station, mouths open in silent screams as the command frequency sound had been substituted for the normal pickups. Servalan gave terse orders to his people as well as her own and Travis could do nothing but watch.

Avon said, "You've lost, Travis, even you can see that. If you don't die here and now, you'll regret it as the Terra Nostra take revenge for what you've allowed to happen to their largest investment. I'm prepared to offer you a deal. You get me out of here, I'll help you stay alive."

Travis rubbed his false hand. "I owe Servalan."

"She'll repay you for your loyalty with your death."

From the floor, Atlan growled, "Let us go, you bastard!"

--

Stark and Dayna had a wonderful time shooting everything in sight, and tossing small bombs wherever Stark's memory of the hologram layout seemed to make it unlikely they'd get themselves killed at the same time.

"The generator's this way!" Stark shouted, pointing.

"Hurry! I'm running low on ammunition!" Dayna dropped another empty gun and ran lightly after Stark, up a ramp that encircled a large open chamber.

They looked down on a huge, solid-looking device, a thing of dull metal and sharp angles. "That's the generator," Stark said with confidence. "Blow it up!"

--

Tarrant and Cally had mowed quite a swath through the common guards, but one of them was equipped with a hand cannon. Tarrant covered for Cally as she darted behind a pillar, then he leapt out to take a shot, but his gun made a grating sound of protest and he threw it from him cursing, the handle suddenly too hot to hold.

The guard grinned and activated the pre-ignition cycle on his weapon. Tarrant dropped to a crouch. The guard aimed the cannon at him. Tarrant shouted, and flung the knife he'd just taken from his boot.

The guard dropped the cannon and looked down with surprise at the knife hilt in the middle of his chest, and then crumpled.

"Good shot," Cally remarked.

"I was aiming for between his eyes."

--

Dayna and Stark had reached the floor of the generator room. Stark stared up at the huge device, running along to the far side of it to look up at the entire thing.

"Dayna, what's taking so long? You have to destroy the generator, now!"

Dayna felt frantically along her chest, touching all the spaces in the bandoliers she had crisscrossed about her body. "I can't! I've used up all my bombs!"

"Frell! We have to think of something! Hurry, they'll be here soon!"

"I'm here already." Servalan said, as a group of troopers appeared behind one facet of the generator, grabbing Stark before he could do anything.

Dayna waved her gun uncertainly.

"Put the weapon down," Servalan ordered.

"No!" Dayna kept Servalan in her sights.

"Put the weapon down now!" Servalan dug her own gun into Stark's ribcage. "Or you'll see what colour his blood is!"

--

Tarrant picked up his now cooled off gun and the dead guard's hand-cannon. "Why hasn't the power gone off?"

Cally shook her head. "I don't know. I only hope Dayna and Stark didn't run into more trouble than they could handle." She ran ahead and looked through tinted triangular windows that bordered the door between the main chamber and the interior of the depository. "I wonder if there's anyone on the other side of this door?"

--

Dayna stood sullenly next to Stark, both of them disarmed and held between guards. Servalan used the command comm. and tried to inform Travis that the danger to the generator was over. "Travis. Travis, why aren't you answering me?"

Bekhesh stepped out from behind the other side of the generator. "Servalan. Don't worry about him. Worry about me!"

One of the guards shouted, "Shoot him!" and raised his gun.

Servalan knocked his gun arm down. "No, don't! Look at his neck!"

Bekhesh grinned, and lifted his chin proudly, showing off the explosive collar. "That's right. I'll explode if you shoot me." He glanced at Dayna. "If you have the chance, tell Tarrant I forgive him. And tell my people of my courage." He lifted the remote control for his collar. He murmured, "I am a true Holy Warrior of Turu."

Dayna shouted, "Bekhesh!"

The guards began backing away, letting go of Dayna and Stark.

Servalan shouted, "No!" an instant before Bekhesh hit the control and exploded, blasting open the side of the generator and starting a series of small explosions that rapidly built into a massive fireball.

Stark grabbed Dayna and they both ran.

--

Tarrant and Cally staggered as a huge explosion rocked the entire station. Lights flickered and vanished, leaving only a few widely separated sparks of battery-powered light.

Tarrant grinned. "They did it. They killed the power."

"Go to heat vision," Cally ordered, pulling a single-optic lens over her right eye. She paused and tapped it. "Mine's not working."

The door behind them slid open with a loud rasp. Tarrant whirled about, bringing up the hand cannon. "Just shoot!" He saw the guards as blurs of reddish white and shot at the main mass. The darkness erupted with gunfire, splashes of light briefly picking out bits of corridor, bodies, faces, guns.

Tarrant and Cally moved together, shoulder to shoulder, firing at everything in front of them. Cally intermittently tapped her lens, trying to get it to work. All she could see was darkness, static and the flashes of weapons. The noise finally stuttered to silence.

"My night vision is working!" Cally cried out, pleased.

A backup generator whined into action and the lighting came back. Cally and Tarrant turned around quickly, back to back, alert for attack. There was no one left to fight. Tarrant blinked at the mounds of bodies. "For someone who couldn't see you did quite well."

--

Servalan and her remaining guards scrambled along a corridor littered with rubble and bodies. Space Rats who had become bored with shooting up ships had invaded the station, wreaking gleeful havoc and adding a touch of colour to the confusion.

Behind Servalan a soldier screamed, his uniform afire. She moved further away from him, to send a comm. message. "Travis. Travis, I know you can hear me. If you're betraying me, if anything happens to Avon..."

--

Avon hung on the wire sphere, the brain interface device in place on his head. "Come on, Travis! If you don't make up your mind quickly, Servalan will decide it for you!"

Servalan's voice came over the comm. unit. "Answer me!"

"She's going to kill you, no matter what happens here. You don't believe me? You can look in my mind, and ask her double for yourself."

Travis hesitated, glancing at the comm. unit, then turned to Avon.

--

Avon's 'body' lay on the floor of the planetarium, the crystalline 'knife' still in the back of his neck. Avon said, fighting to get the words out past the paralysis, "Servalan. Ask her."

Travis asked, "Where is she?"

The not-Servalan entered the planetarium. "I'm here, Travis."

Travis walked up to Servalan. "Tell me. Does Servalan plan to kill me?"

"Hmm." Not-Servalan looked Travis over lazily. "Now I know why Servalan found you so enticing. To possess something like you, to feel that body against hers for a little while." She smiled.

Travis said, "Avon's right. Servalan is going to kill me."

Not-Servalan said, "Oh, my lovely. How fortunate you are. Your death will be painless." She turned and began walking towards Avon.

Avon mumbled, "Travis! Get this thing out of my neck, forget about her!"

Travis knelt behind Avon. "If I take it out, do you swear you'll allow me on Liberator and get me away from Servalan?"

--

Cally and Tarrant ran into Travis's chambers. No one was there. There were bits of cord lying at the base of the sphere, and the communications monitor was still on, showing scenes of mad disorder.

Tarrant shouted in frustration, "Where is Avon? Atlan said he was here!"

Cally said, " After they caught Atlan, they must have suspected something and moved Avon!"

"Great, just great! Where do we go from here?"

Cally looked down and saw the trail of scattered blood-drops that Atlan had left. She suggested, "We follow that?" She adjusted her heat-vision goggle to make the blood greenly luminescent.

"Until it gets covered with someone else's blood... well, better than nothing." Tarrant followed Cally out of the room.

--

Travis dug the muzzle of a pulse rifle into Avon's back, urging him on. Atlan walked next to Avon; he was in better shape than Avon who was moving slowly and breathing rapidly.

Travis said, "There's a way to get to the shuttle bay in the lower level, we must move faster!"

Avon suddenly cried out in pain, gasping and clutching at his head. Atlan grabbed him, holding him steady. "What's wrong?" he asked.

"Serv... Servalan... in my head... doesn't want me to go."

"Move!" Travis snapped, jabbing the pulse rifle into Avon's back. Avon staggered, still holding his head.

Atlan snarled, "Don't push him, you bastard!"

Avon shouted, "Stop it, stop it!"

Atlan shook Avon by the shoulder, "Don't tell me to stop it! That gook took my eye!"

Half a wall exploded behind them, and a squad of Servalan's people emerged from the hole.

"Troopers!" Travis shouted at Avon and Atlan. The three of them ran.

--

Dayna and Stark ran along a corridor. "Liberator! Vila! Blake! We're heading back to the shuttle, be ready for us to join you!"

Vila answered, "We're on our way."

Blake took the controls over Vila's objections. Bekhesh's second in command watched them, but said nothing. Tarrant had made it quite clear he was only there to verify any orders from Liberator to the Amagons. The Space Rats had refused to have a liaison during the battle, because they all wanted to be in on the fighting. Vila had been pleased about that. The Space Rats made him nervous.

--

Servalan had been picking up information from all the units under her command, and knew the invaders were retreating, missions apparently accomplished. There was only one last chance of getting Avon.

She activated her comm. again, reaching Travis's central control. "Signal the Amagon."

--

Bekhesh's second clipped a small device to his ear, and listened impassively.

Vila looked at him. "Hey! What are you doing!" He moved closer, trying to see what the device was.

The Amagon grabbed Vila, twisting his arm behind his back, and shoving a gun in his spine. Blake growled, and stepped away from the controls, but the Amagon shook his head. "Unless you want two useless half-thieves, you'll stay back." He raised his voice and spoke to someone who wasn't on the flight deck, "Kurz, release The Web."

"No!" Blake shouted, and took half a step forward before Liberator slammed to a halt.

On the satellite Tarrant and Cally paused to stare at a monitor showing the Liberator ensnared. "How the hell did that happen?" Tarrant asked.

Cally shook her head. "We'll deal with it after we get Avon."

--

Avon was walking slowly, only moving because Travis kept prodding him with the rifle. He was trapped, trapped in his mind, with not-Servalan, who was ripping and tearing at his brain.

A group of troopers and guards appeared around the corner in front of them. Avon stood there, wavering, looking blankly at them. "Go away, you're not real. Electron... tronically induced... nightmare..."

Servalan waved her troopers to stillness, and walked slowly towards Avon.

Travis shook Avon's arm. "Move!"

Not-Servalan was still harassing Avon in his mind, blinding him to reality. /You'll never get away from me, Avon. Never./ "No! Go away, Servalan!" Avon shouted.

"Move it!" Travis tried to drag Avon with him to the cover of a small room on the left side of the corridor, but Avon refused to budge.

Atlan shouted, "Servalan!", pushed Avon towards the alcove to the left, and darted to the right himself. Avon staggered, but barely moved, still out in the center of the corridor.

Servalan said urgently, "Don't shoot Avon! I need him alive."

Atlan shouted again, "Avon! Get back!"

/There's no escape, Avon... no escape./

Next to Servalan, Travis's lead guard raised a large pulse pistol.

"No!" Atlan shouted. He ran back into the middle of the corridor, slamming a shoulder into Avon, forcing him to stagger over to Travis in the alcove. Atlan took the shot meant for Avon, and was blown off his feet.

Servalan turned to the guard, furious.

Avon grabbed Travis's rifle and stepped back into the center of the corridor. "No!" he screamed, and shot the guard.

Travis yelled, "Let's go! We have a deal, Avon!"

From the floor Atlan mumbled, "flaggin' 'ell...'

Avon's eyes shifted to look at him. /Leave him, Avon. Go to Servalan./ Avon hung onto the rifle, but the aim wavered.

Travis urged, "Come on!"

/Leave him. Come to me. Come. Come./

Avon gasped and put his other hand up to brace his gun arm, aiming it at Servalan. His face went white with the effort, but his finger refused to tighten on the trigger.

Travis shouted, "Avon!"

Avon lowered the gun, letting it dangle from his hand. He was barely on his feet, blood trickling from his nose, staring blankly ahead as Servalan moved slowly toward him.

/There's no escape, Avon. There's no escape. No escape./

"Take me to Liberator!" Travis yelled.

/No escape, Avon, there's no escape./

"Damn you, Avon. I won’t die with you!" Travis snarled, and fled, running back the way they had come. The troopers fired at him, but because of Servalan's orders, they didn't dare come near Avon. Travis made excellent use of Avon as a shield, escaping around a corner.

Servalan continued stalking Avon, slowly, her eyes fixed on his blank gaze. Avon watched her, expressionlessly.

Tarrant and Cally appeared at the far end of the corridor. Instantly sizing up the situation, Tarrant ran forward, blasting away with the hand-cannon, Cally at his side, efficiently slaughtering troopers with her weapons. Servalan's troopers fell back while returning fire, with her retreating angrily along with them. Avon still stood blank-faced in the middle of the corridor, handicapping both sides. Cally and Tarrant kept up the momentum, driving the troopers and guards back. They had seen on the monitors what had happened to the last group to take on Cally and Tarrant, and were reluctant to share their fate.

Tarrant got to Avon, and knelt beside Atlan to check on him, while Cally used her hip to give Avon a half-throw that sent him staggering into the alcove to the left. Tarrant followed, dragging Atlan.

Atlan groaned, "Speed... you promised... my Space Rats..."

"I'll see that they get it, Atlan," Tarrant vowed.

Atlan smiled and slumped, dead.

Reinforcements arrived for Servalan. Cally glanced out. "I hope you get to keep your promise, Tarrant. They're on both sides. We're trapped."

--

Dayna and Stark reached the shuttle, only to find no one else there. Dayna used the ship's comm., thinking perhaps there was something wrong with the ones Stark had made. "Vila. Vila! Why don't you answer?! Vila?"

--

Cally frowned. She had spoken briefly with Atlan's second in command, a woman with mad eyes who thought Cally was sexually appealing. Cally had been hard-pressed to politely turn her down, and even now, she could almost *feel* the lascivious gropings of the woman's mind. Almost. The woman must be close. Perhaps she had joined the invasion of the depository. Cally reached out with her mind.

--

"You're breaking my arm!" Vila whimpered.

The Amagon didn't slacken his grip. "I'm sorry about this, but Servalan will kill me if I don't hold Liberator for her." Streaks of light flashed on the main monitor, and the Amagon ships using force fields to hold The Web around Liberator exploded in a string, like firecrackers, incinerating The Web along with themselves.. A Space Chopper slowed to visibility in front of Liberator, did a victory roll, and then accelerated to invisibility again.

"No!" The Amagon shouted, lifting both hands to protest. Blake had been concentrating on him, and lunged forward with terrifying speed, bracing one arm around the man's shoulders, and put his other forearm under the Amagon's chin. Blake grunted with a brief effort, and there was a sickening snap. Blake let the body drop to the deck.

--

Pinned down, Cally kept trying to contact Liberator. "Vila? Blake? We could use some assistance."

Tarrant was too busy using the hand cannon to keep their opponents at a distance to use his own comm, but he shouted, "Now would be good!"

Avon had slid down against the far wall of the alcove. He blinked and looked at the blood dripped on his hand from his nosebleed, staring at it in complete confusion.

Blake's voice came over Cally's comm. "Cally! The Web is gone. How can we help?"

Cally thought hard for a moment. "You still have the hologram running?"

"Yes."

"What runs parallel to the internal corridors?"

Vila scrambled to rotate the hologram. "Looks like reverse pressurization chambers."

"Where do they lead?"

"To the depository."

Cally smiled. "Perfect. Blake?"

"Yes."

"Have you been in contact with Dayna and Stark?"

"Yes, I spoke to them just before you. They're in the shuttle." Despite the tension of the moment, Blake sounded amused. "Dayna's complaining; she's out of ammunition."

Cally smiled. "She does get enthusiastic. Tell them to take off in the shuttle and return to Liberator. I want you to target on my comm. Destroy the depository when we reach it and I give you the signal."

"What?" Vila yelped, "You'll all be killed!"

"We'll be safe," Cally assured him. "Just give us two minutes and obviously, try not to hit my signal with a direct strike."

--

Servalan irritably stepped over a corpse and frowned in concentration.

/Avon./ Avon twitched as the non-Servalan called his name. /You want the implant removed./

Cally said, "Follow me."

"Follow you where?" Tarrant asked, looking at the enemy at either end of the corridor.

"Here." Cally grabbed the hand cannon from him and blasted at a grating covering one of the service conduits across from their position, completely demolishing it. "We'll go into the depository and hide in a container. That should protect us from Liberator's attack."

"Should?!" Tarrant protested.

"I'm open to any other suggestions."

"Well..." Tarrant looked at the troopers inching closer on both sides. "Brilliant plan, Cally. I love it."

Avon got to his knees. "Cally, I'm...ah...I'm going to Servalan."

"No, you aren't." Cally chopped Avon on the neck, and he keeled over, unconscious. "Carry him, Tarrant."

Tarrant heaved Avon over his shoulder with a grunt and followed Cally into the corridor. She blasted away with the hand-cannon, while Tarrant used a smaller gun to pick them off. Not many blasts were aimed his way, as the troopers were still afraid to displease Servalan by risking Avon's life. They made it into the service conduit and raced along it, Tarrant barely slowed by Avon's weight.

--

Cally shouted, "This way!" She stopped at a control console, and tried to key open the door in front of them. "Locked!"

"What?!"

Cally lifted the hand cannon and fired at the door. "It *was* locked." They ran in through the smoking ruins of the door, and headed for the nearest open container. It was already nearly filled with large white crates, but was so large that even the small proportion of empty space available was more than enough for all three of them.

--

On Liberator, the countdown was running. Vila had his finger over the firing button. "Zen, raise the Radiation Flare Shields."

"Fifty seconds," Blake said, watching the monitors.

"Locking on now." Vila stuck out his tongue and concentrated on refining the coordinates to pin-point precision. "There."

--

Inside the deposit box, Cally helped ease Avon down from Tarrant's shoulder.

--

Alone in a corridor, Servalan stepped over a body, looking more infuriated than frightened.

--

"Thirty."

--

Tarrant sealed up the box, then sat down, putting his arms around both Cally and Avon.

--

"Twenty"

--

Servalan walked down the corridor.

--

"Nine"

--

Cally rubbed her shoulder where the weight of the hand cannon had bruised her.

--

"Six, five."

--

Tarrant looked up, still holding the hand cannon, half-expecting the enemy to open the box and attack.

--

"Four... three... two... one."

Liberator's guns opened fire, demolishing huge chunks of the satellite, chipping away at the areas surrounding the vault like someone biting an apple. With surgical precision, Vila cut the vault out, and deposit boxes floated free in space.

"Got them," Blake announced, locking onto Cally's signal. "Now, if I can only repeat Avon's trick." Vila opened Liberator's cargo bay, and Blake maneuvered to catch the floating box.

--

Liberator's cargo bay was filled with the white crates from the deposit box. All had been opened, revealing an assorted wealth of shiny, glittering, obviously valuable items. Vila sat on one of the piles of gems, crown stuck slantwise on his head, and fingers loaded down with rings.

He laughed. "Diamond floors and Vila's Royal Mounties... I can have anything I want now. Can't I! Can't we all," he added generously.

Tarrant and Cally shrugged. Dayna picked up a golden statuette of a bird, then set it back down on the pile. "Yes, of course, Vila. Anything your heart desires." She sounded totally uninterested.

Vila said, "Oh, don't be like them, Dayna. Don't take all the fun out of it. We did it! This isn't like before. This won't eat the ship, so cheer up. We got Avon back, and Blake! And we're rich!"

Dully, Dayna said, "Yes, it's all perfect."

Tarrant said, "Atlan and Bekhesh are dead."

"So? They knew the risks. And aren't we giving a generous share to their friends?" Vila frowned. "Even after the Amagons betrayed us."

Tarrant said softly, "And what of Avon?"

--

Avon stood in his quarters, talking to himself. "If pi R squared is equal to the inverse of a discrete polygonal, what is the colour of logic?"

Blake walked into the room. "Avon."

"But on the other hand, and what shall I do with the other hand...nature abhors a vacuum, which is why warg-stranglers are hairy."

"I've come to thank you, Avon. For saving me."

Avon picked up the white king from his chess set with both hands, frowning in concentration as he tried to put it on the board. "The time has come, the walrus said... to talk of many things... of shoes and ships, and sealing wax... of cabbages and kings." The chess-piece fell from his shaking hands, joining the rest of the fallen pieces scattered across the board surrounding a Liberator hand-gun. The only chess piece that remained standing was the black queen.

"Avon?" Blake moved closer.

Avon tried once more to put the white king in place. "I weep for you," the walrus said; I deeply sympathize." /Avon Avon Avon Avon. / "Shut up!" /Avon Avon Avon./

Blake put his hands on Avon's shoulders and Avon finally noticed him. "She's..." /Avon Avon Avon Avon./ "She's ... still here..." He tapped his forehead. "And... she blames me. She blames me for Servalan's death... and...so..." Avon looked away from Blake, down at the table. "I've been... I've been trying to, to... but I can't. I can't...she won't let me..."

Blake gripped the sides of Avon's face, forcing him to look at Blake. "To what, Avon? What are you trying to do?"

/To what? To what, Avon?/

Avon looked at Blake, and his voice was calm as his mental fog lifted for a moment. "Blake, kill me. Please. Kill me."

Blake stared into Avon's desperate eyes, and stroked his cheek.

--

The END... Bwahaahahahahah .... erm... it was a long job of writing.