A THOUSAND LEGENDS
1818 words
Foreword: (or maybe that should be fore-warning)
I have become so-oo tired of the plethora of after-Blake stories in which Avon is overcome with guilt etc for having killed Blake,
even though I must confess to having written one or two myself!
THIS post-Blake story certainly does not have Avon suffering from any pangs of guilt.
In fact THIS Avon is actually a very nasty person when you think about all the implications behind it.
It is not a nice story at all - but then it wasn't meant to be.
"That will be quite sufficient. Lower your weapons, all of you." The authoritive female voice cut through the alarm sirens and the tightening circle of black clad troopers ringing Avon moved slowly, almost reluctantly to obey. In their midst, he still smiled that dreadful smile, but then his eyes relaxed and he lowered his weapon as the woman came through the gallery to stand before him.
She was smiling, and she put out her hand to touch his cheek.
"You were magnificent," she said and he grinned, the expression lightening up his whole face and changing it from maniac murderer-of-friends to charming-little-boy.
"Yes, I was, wasn't I?" He put the gun down and poked at Blake's wide eyed corpse with one foot. "Are they all dead?"
The captain of the troopers did a quick check around and reported back.
"All except that one. I think he just fainted."
"Vila." She smiled that wide predatory smile. "I find him amusing."
Avon nodded. "Fair enough. So do I." He jerked his head at one of the troopers. "You. Get all this cleaned up and disposed of. Put Restal in a cell and keep him totally isolated. Oh, and - " as the man prepared to follow his commands, "strip him naked and put a standard issue medi gown on him. He keeps an amazing variety of tools concealed on his person and in his clothes. Put all of his gear into a carton and leave it in my quarters."
"Our quarters," she corrected him gently and they shared a meaningful smile.
"Yessir." The man saluted, then as Avon and Servalan left, the troopers sprang into action to clear up the pathetic remains of Blake's motley crew of would be Rebels and insurrectionists.
"You have absolutely no idea," Avon said shortly later in their quarters, as she watched him strip off his dirty and bloodied clothes, "just how glad I am going to be not to have to wear these ghastly leather and stud outfits ever again." He shuddered and she smiled.
The smile was appreciative and not a little lecherous as he stepped clear of the pile of despised black leather studs etc etc...
Stretching luxuriously, he headed for the bathroom, half closing the door behind him, then poking his head out again. His grin was roguish. "Find me something decent to wear - and then come and give me a hand in here. To wash my back or something." Her look became even more lecherous and anticipatory but there was affection in it as well. "It's been a long time, Vala," he continued. "I'm tired of playing the rebel. But - now that it's all over at last - you know what's really going to irritate me most of all about all this?" She shook her head. "I've been fighting with them for so long - pretending to be Kerr Avon fighting the Federation first of all for myself and then for Roj Blake's memory - " His face twisted in bitter amusement. Servalan had been seated but she rose elegantly to her feet and poured two glasses of wine, one of which she carried across to the man still standing in the bathroom doorway.
"It hasn't been easy for either of us, even though we both knew, way back at the beginning, that it would be a long term plan. There were a couple of times there when I thought you were dead. That I had killed you."
"You are so right." He held her gently to him, their heads close together. "The past year's been the hardest, I think. Ever since Terminal. That trick of yours with Blake was very good."
She preened herself. "You think so?" Her smile was wide and feline. "So do I. One of my better plans to rid the Federation of the scourge of Blake and his little lot"
"And I thought you were dead that time. I nearly killed Dayna and Vila when I found out what they'd done - let you take the Liberator in that condition. That wasn't supposed to happen."
Her expression was grave.
"It wasn't fun, I can assure you of that. But you did such a good job after that, Avon, of convincing them all that you were going off the deep end - "
"Thank you very much!" He grinned at her, and then gave a demonstration of his 'Avon cackling like a loon' when he had discovered the value of the gold they had stolen, and then delivered to Sleer/Servalan. "I am glad however that it didn't have to go on for much longer. The stress of pretending to be crazy, on top of having been undercover for so long, may well have really driven me crazy eventually."
"What do you plan to do with Vila?" she inquired and he frowned.
"A mind-wipe and then implanted selected memories would seem to be the best course of action, However, there may be difficulties, Vila having so little in the way of a mind in the first place." She giggled at his deadpan serious Avon-putting-Vila-down expression but he continued seriously. "After all, the best psychiatrists in the Federation have all had a go at him at one time or another, and with no success. He's a thief and he loves being a thief. Maybe the kindest thing to do would be just to send him back to the delta grade area, give him a job and a wife and let him live the rest of his life in happy larceny." He gave her a sideways malicious glance. "I would have thought you'd have wanted Tarrant - ah - preserved. After Virn."
"Tchah!" She dismissed the late Del Tarrant with a gesture. "A decorative man - but useless out of bed. Virn was a mere peccadillo. And it did bring up painful memories I would much rather have left behind." She put her face up against his bare chest and he stroked the back of her neck soothingly.
"I understand. That - confrontation I had with Anna Grant was a touch painful, too"
Servalan laughed. "For her, anyway. Clever of the psycho-strategist, to suggest implanting that woman with totally fictitious memories of her past - ah - liaison with you. And getting to her brother at the same time. She would have become a real problem to me sooner or later. It gained you a lot of sympathy from the others. Killing two birds with one stone, you would say." They both chuckled. "What about Cally?" Her tone went sly but she did not get the response she had expected. His face set in characteristic lines and his eyes hardened.
"Cally." His mouth twisted. "Cally was a problem - and becoming a bigger one. All that Auron sympathy and 'I understand what you're going through, Avon dear'."
"Fortunate then that she did not survive Terminal," she said dryly and he gave her a cold and very direct stare.
"Fortunate indeed."
Servalan swallowed and wondered.
But she would never ask. This man was totally ruthless; it was indeed that streak of utter disregard for everyone but himself that had attracted her to him in the first place. Two kindred souls, so to speak. Nonetheless, she decided there and then she did not really need to know exactly how Cally of Auron had met her demise. The woman was dead; that was enough.
She pouted, changing tack well away from Cally. "That was rather a mean trick you played on me, regarding the android Vinni. I was rather looking forwards to annexing Teal and Vandor and their associated systems for the Terran Federation."
Avon had the good grace to look mildly embarrassed.
"I - ah - was carried away by the whole affair." He looked at her sideways. "Especially after visiting my - sick friend. Tarrant did rather well there, I think."
"Yes." She sighed. "A pity about Tarrant. Still, now there's you and me, my love - and the Federation is ours. We've both worked hard enough and for long enough to deserve our success. And you do deserve the very best after all that time you put in, infiltrating the rebels and even pretending to be their leader."
He took her in his arms again and chuckled, then drained the glass of wine at one gulp.
"We were very good, both of us." He set his face in a typically Avon-like stare. "Very convincing, if I say so myself. I fooled them all, even Slave and Orac. And that reminds me; I'd better send someone to retrieve Orac later on. It's going to have to adapt itself to working for the Federation from now on."
Servalan nodded encouragingly. "You were going to tell me what irritates you the most about all of this?" She smiled at him. "Before we started congratulating each other"
"Oh yes." He looked at her, suddenly grave. "I've become somewhat of a legend. Even more so than Blake himself."
"Egotist!"
He ignored her mocking interruption. "But when the story of what happened here on Gauda Prime gets out - our version, the official one, that is, every Rebel in the system is going to think of poor Kerr Avon and how he was so consumed with guilt at what he did to Blake. Or else they'll be so angry about it. Nobody is ever going to suspect the truth - that you and I were together all along, even before Blake appeared on the scene." He sighed a little. "There are going to be so many tales told about what happened here today. Even the fact that the official story will say we are all dead is not going to be enough for Blake's loyal followers. Not for Avon's followers either, if it comes to that." He put his arms around her. "Our last confrontation on Gauda Prime won't be the end of it for them, you know. They won't let it be the end. I killed Blake but they won't let it end there. Instead it's going to be the beginning of a legend." He laughed sourly, realising just what he had done; that now he never ever would be free of Roj Blake.
"The beginning of a thousand legends - and every single one of them wrong."
Well, don't say I didn't warn you!