Following Another Star (Gen)

[my_b7_fic]

(Merry Ficmas story for jaxomsride)



"This doesn't look like Star One," Vila said, turning around slowly.

"No, it doesn't." Avon gave Blake a look.

"It was along the coordinate line," Blake said as he began trudging down the corridor of the seedy space station.

"No, it wasn't," Avon replied. "This is nowhere, Blake. Why are we here?"

Blake stopped and looked at Avon. "I had a message from Travis."

"Travis! Is he here?" Vila asked, nervously.

"No. He couldn’t get here in time, so he sent me the message."

"Blake!" Avon put his hand on Blake's arm. "Either you tell me right now what's going on, or I'm out of here."

"All right." Blake looked around. "But not here. That tavern looks quiet. In there."

They went in and ordered ales, then sat around a booth in the dimly lit rear of the tavern. Blake pretended to sip at his ale. Quietly he said, "Do you remember the dead man you found in the life-pod with Ensor's son?"

Avon frowned. "Vaguely. Why?"

"He was the surgeon who saved Travis's life. Servalan had him killed and reported as a deserter. His family was to be sold as slaves, but Travis arranged to get them out. He couldn't do much for them, but they managed to stay free, until now."

"So, what are we doing here?" Vila asked. He drank his ale, but still looked nervous. "This could be a trap you know. Just because Travis is on the run, too, that doesn't mean he's your friend."

Avon looked annoyed as if he'd wanted to point that out. "Don't tell me you're feeling guilty about the family of the man who saved the life of the man you crippled after he massacred your friends."

Vila looked at Avon. "Say that again, five times fast."

Blake shook his head. "No. And I'm not doing it as a favor to Travis. It's just... we're here, and we can help them. It's simple enough. Why not?"

Avon opened his mouth and shut it again. "Why not? That's as good a reason as any we've ever had. All right. What do you want us to do?"

"Find Maryatt's family, give them some gold from the treasure room and take them to a safe planet. This station's been sent a Federation census order. Their IDs won't stand up to it." Blake stood up, leaving his untouched ale on the table. Vila grabbed it and drank it.

"Well, you didn't want us to be conspicuous, did you?" Vila reached for Avon's ale, but Avon forestalled him by drinking it himself.

"Fine. Let's get this mission of mercy over with." Avon stalked out of the tavern, looking not much mellowed by the ale.

It took time, even with the information Travis had given them, expanded by Orac's reluctant assistance, but finally Blake tapped on the door of a ramshackle construction on the lower level. An animal noise came from inside as an elderly man opened the door. "What do you want? There's no goat milk until tomorrow. Go away."

"We came for the Mary family. Travis sent us."

The man looked Blake up and down. "Yeah. She believed in him. Said he'd send someone. Well, you can't take them."

"Why not?" Avon had his gun out and aimed at the old man. The man blinked at him.

"Because she's busy." He looked at them again. "Any of you know anything about delivering a baby?"

Avon looked at Blake who looked at Vila who said, "Hey, don't go around assuming all Deltas come from big families." He looked slyly at Avon. "You've got the smallest hands."

Avon gave Vila a filthy look, then he shoved his gun at Blake. "You are going to owe me."

Even though it was a relatively easy birth Avon was several shades paler than usual when a healthy wail came from the newborn baby that he had hesitantly slapped on the bottom. "You'd better take her from me," he told Blake. "I need to sit down."

Then he slid down to the floor looking rather glassy-eyed. Vila had been keeping the other children occupied in the only other room, with yellow-eyed goats crowding around to steal his card tricks and nibble on his sleeves. He wandered out to expertly bathe the baby, bind up her umbilicus and inform Blake, who was about to dispose of it, no, no, you want to save the cord because she might need the cells later, and then he efficiently fashioned a garment for her out of a clean pillowslip.

From the floor Avon looked at Vila.

Vila grinned and laid the baby next to her mother. "Some Deltas come from big families."

Blake brought out the teleport bracelets then, after getting assurance from Orac that the process would harm neither mother nor child, and they all teleported back up to Liberator before the goatherd's astonished eyes. "Well, that'll make a story to tell at the tavern."

(the prompt was 'The Nativity')