"Enough, Avon!" Blake yelled at him. He was sick of Avon's constant criticisms and jibes at his incompetence, and his insinuations about his lies and his betrayal of the crew. The man didn't understand about leadership. Unpleasant things had to be done. "Back to your station." His voice was hard, unyielding, tinged with threat. They stood toe-to-toe, like two gunfighters. He could see the anger in Avon's eyes and then Avon looked away. The man was always too weak to stand up to him.

Avon walked away, back stiff and his posture sullen, like he was most of the time in Blake's presence. He went back to his station, refusing to act beaten even though he had lost another confrontation with Blake. He glared at the man's back, bile rising to his throat, making him ill. If he had lost to logic to any shred of intelligence, Avon wouldn't mind. But this… He was starting to get very fed up and soon he would no longer be cowed by Blake's bullying.

"It was not a disaster," declared Blake, because that usually settled the matter. The crew accepted anything he said. "We obtained the cipher machine."

Avon humphed to himself, his eyes cold, his arms crossed in rejection. "And what do you plan to do with it?" he asked, the contempt barely hidden. The whole disaster of a plan made him sick. Not to mention they had nearly lost Cally in the process. The only positive was Blake had managed to rescue her, purely by luck of course, like most things Blake barely managed to achieve. And even then it was little enough. "Unless you have short term memory, the Federation knows we have the cipher machine because of your 'plan.' They set a trap for us using it. Do you think they're stupid enough to continue feeding us real information? They're not like you."

"But at least we got it," Blake said aggressively. He was right. He was always right.

"Oh yes," said Avon, a contemptuous snarl on his lips, "if you like useless paperweights. Perhaps you could decorate it as a trophy to all the other disasters you've led us on."

Blake placed his hands on his hips, making himself visibly larger, trying to intimidate. "We have had nothing but successes!"

"Really." The scorn in Avon's voice was like acid.

"If it weren't for me, you would be on Cygnus Alpha rotting away!" Blake shouted, his eyes flashing with dark anger.

"Oh, you arranged for the Liberator to arrive, did you?" Avon asked in disdain. "You planned for us to be sent over to the ship? Our escape was luck. Nothing more. Typical of you to claim a success that had nothing to do with you."

Blake stormed over, looming over Avon sitting at his station. "Everything I do is a success."

"Your plan on the London was an unmitigated disaster. Ten prisoners died because of your incompetence. Your leadership of the Freedom Party was a joke. You led them all to their deaths and using you like a puppet, the Federation was able to strike a blow against the rebellion that took them years to recover from. Oh, yes, I can see how that makes you successful." Avon sneered. "With success like yours, who needs failure."

"That's hardly fair," said Vila. "Blake saved us when we were trapped in the web and he saved the Decimas."

"More lies Blake likes to perpetuate."

Cally could normally feel the antagonism whenever the two men were in the room but it was different now, there was barely disguised hatred. Avon was frustrated and angry most days now. The only time he wasn't was when Blake was off the ship, leaving him behind.

Avon had been spending a lot of time with the computers. She was afraid he was going to try to leave them soon.

She said, "Avon. We did get away from the web and the Decimas did survive Saymon."

He twisted around in his seat to face her. "It wasn't because of Blake's plans."

"Then how?"

"I did it!" Blake yelled, trying to look even larger and even more intimidating.

Avon rounded on him. "Your plans were disasters, like most things you do. The only success we achieved was pure coincidence. The Decimas saved themselves. If Geela and Novarro were not careless enough to leave the door open, the Decimas would not have been able to enter the building. They killed the clones. It was because of that we were able to release the web. Not because of your brilliant leadership. It was luck. Nothing else. But of course, you led the crew to believe that you were the one who saved us by not telling them the truth."

Jenna didn't like Avon, but she didn't like being lied to either. "Is this true?" She had a habit of thinking Blake invincible, that he could do anything. But what Avon pointed out was right. Blake had more failures than successes, and a lot of them did rely on luck. And his failures either got people killed or captured. It wasn't really a sterling record.

Blake didn't like where this was heading. Avon alone he could handle, and most times the crew listened to his every word as if he were a god. Jenna did have the odd tendency to question him. He did not like that at all. "If it weren't for me, the Decimas would not have gotten into the building."

"It was merely an oversight on the part of Geela and Novara. You had nothing to do with it, Blake," said Avon.

"I saved the Decimas. I saved us," shouted Blake even louder. Raising his voice usually worked with Avon.

Avon fell silent. He knew no amount of logic would work against Blake. The man was too arrogant to bow to reason and too stupid to recognize superior intelligence. Continuing to talk to the man was pointless, he would only continue yelling or making nonsensical declarations until he got his way. He sat back, glaring at Blake.

The others saw this and were smart enough to keep their mouths shut. None of them wanted to face Blake's wrath. And so what if Blake had lied to them or he was delusional about his own success, at least they had gotten away. The man was lucky. That was better than nothing.

Jenna was irritated by Blake's presumptuous and heavy handed behaviour. He had done this to them before. She wondered how long she would stay, how long she would put up with it. She missed having her own crew, her own ship. Being led around by someone who lied to them constantly was not her idea of leadership. Jenna didn't trust people who did not extend trust to her. And someone who felt he had to lie in order to get them to do what he wanted, definitely didn't trust any of them.

She looked speculatively at Avon. The man might be a cold bastard but at least he hadn't lied to any of them. Jenna shook her head, a blond lock falling across her face. The idea of Avon as a leader… No. The man tried to kill them on the London. Although…they only had Blake's assumption to go on and Blake didn't know who Avon was then. How could he declare that he knew what Avon was going to do? She hadn't thought of that before. Blake didn't seem to act on any facts.

Why couldn't she be the leader? She led her own crew and quite successfully too as a smuggler. Until she was caught. But then, none of them were much of a success having all ended up on the London. Yes, why couldn't she lead the crew? At least she wouldn't lie to them. She was fair and intelligent, and she didn't rely on intimidation or manipulation to run her crew. Maybe it was time for new leadership. Avon was quite clear about how he felt about Blake. His hatred was barely disguised by his impassive face. The eyes told the truth though, and the scathing words. Yes, perhaps with Avon, they could provide the kind of leadership this crew needed.