Avon crossed his arm over his chest as he sat alone on the flight deck, a morose look darkening his face. He made a promise to himself many years ago. Avenge Anna's death. Bring down the man who killed her, who made her last days a nightmare.

He hadn't been able to sleep since Albion and the meeting with Del Grant. The regret was suffocating, the guilt a sharp pain in his back. His rational mind could not push them away, did not want to, not for Anna.

When his eyes closed, his tortured mind imagined Anna, her body broken and in pain, lying in a cell and hearing the screams of those who had no hope. All because of him.

If there had ever been a time when I could have given my own life to save her, I would have done it. The only grain of consolation that I have is that Anna knew that.

He tried to convince himself it made a difference, that Anna died knowing he would have done that for her in a heartbeat. But it was the comfort of a survivor, which was no comfort at all.

I will avenge you, Anna. Then maybe he could sleep again, but he doubted it.

Zen broke the silence of his thoughts. /* Information. Incoming communications. Video and audio portion. */

Avon unfolded his arms and sat up. "Who is it from, Zen?"

/* Message header indicates, Anna Grant. */

Time ground to a halt as Avon froze in shock. There were no sounds other than the pounding of his heart.

How is this possible? Anna…Anna is dead.His face paled. A rational man does not indulge in nonsensical thoughts about ghosts, but he does question…

What trick is this? Could he afford to accept the message? Could he afford not to? If he had a copy of Anna's voice, he could have Zen do a voice print analysis.

/* The header includes a text message. */

"Onscreen, Zen…no, relay it to my terminal." He looked down at his console. There was a single line:

Trust is only dangerous when you have to rely on it.

**********

Days later, after Anna's identity had been confirmed. Avon and Anna sat together in his cabin after she confessed her role as Bartholomew, the Federation's top spy.

"I see." Avon's voice was flat, his eyes cold. Inside, his heart was bleeding, his head was spinning, nothing seemed real anymore. The centre of his life had become a dark void, the truth had become a lie.

Anna leaned forward, her eyes filled with regret and anguish. "I'm sorry, Avon. But…I…I was only ever Anna Grant with you."

Avon felt strange. There was no anger, only pain and disappointment. He did not hate her. "Of all the things I have known myself to be, I never recognized the fool."

She stretched her hand across the table, trying to reach a man she was afraid she had lost forever. "You weren't a fool, Avon. I was. I never knew what I had until you were gone."

Pain choked Avon's throat. "It was all lies. You were never real."

His pain was a knife that twisted inside Anna's heart. She had done this to him, had torn his heart out. "It wasn't all lies. I let you go. I was the one who released news that I died in custody. I knew you wouldn't leave if you thought I was still alive. Every moment you stayed was dangerous for you."

His brooding eyes fixed hers in a penetrating stare. "You expect me to believe that?"

"No. But it happens to be the truth. Avon…I can't expect you to forgive me."

Avon's throat was tight. "You never understood."

"You're right. I never did, but I do now."

"You can go." There was an icy chill in his voice. He couldn't live without her, but he couldn't live with her either, not after what she did to him.

"Avon…" Anna didn't want to go. She did not want to lose him again. "It's been a long time, I suppose there's someone else, is that it? Is there someone else, Avon?"

A face came to Avon's mind. The face of a woman he had come to know. Someone who had never betrayed him. The only one who was worthy of his trust. "Yes." It was the face of Cally.