Disclaimer: I don't own Blake's 7 the BBC does. Please don't sue.

All the Friends You Can Get

By Fairlady Z

For the umpteenth time, Vila Restal glared groggily at the complex locking mechanism of the cell door. There was no way out, not without the right tools anyway, which he didn't have and wasn't likely to get either. Slumped against the wall with one knee hugged up against his chest, he went back to counting the dots on the ceiling. But the only real dots were the multi-colored ones that flashed in front of him every time he opened his eyes. He felt sick. Closing his eyes again, he fingered a fresh bruise on his forehead. A black-suited guard had hit Vila there after he had accidentally thrown up on the guard's newly shined boots. The angry guard might have taken another swing at Vila if the guard's compatriot hadn't restrained him. Vila had then been shoved into the cell with the rest of the rabble for whom this prison was just another stop-off before the long flight that would eventually end at the penal colony of Cygnus Alpha. There they would spend the rest of their natural lives. The whole thought of it made Vila sick to his stomach, and considering he already was, it only made him fell twice as bad as before. It was just as well he had nothing left to hurl.

The other prisoners had been content to avoid him so far, allowing him to stick to a corner, smelling of cheap booze and his lost lunch. Most of them were too busy arguing over cots and staking out their new, temporary territory. Many prisoners had drifted off to sleep by now and those that hadn't sat contemplating their own personal sorrows. Vila's head still ached, but his queasiness finally started to wear off. As he glanced over his dozing cellmates, his gaze automatically fell onto their unprotected pockets. They were easy pickings for a thief like him, Vila thought, not that there was still anything of much worth left after a Federation search among this criminal lot. Still, who knew? Perhaps he would get lucky. Maybe someone had even managed to conceal some lockpicking equipment. Vila's natural curiosity about other people's possessions kicked in. He felt a wave of drunken giddiness as he stood that made him so dizzy he had to grasp the wall for support. A moment later, his skill and greed allowed him to focus through the pain of the hangover and he set about his beckoning task.

With the refined movements of a slight o' hand magician, Vila's nimble fingers selected their first victim. He was a fair-haired man with a bristly mustache, snoring soundly on the closest cot. From years of experience, the thief could easily pinpoint the single, round yet small, bulge in the prisoner's trouser pocket, perhaps a leftover credit coin or two. However, the only object Vila managed to liberate turned out to be a loose button with a bit of string still attached. Annoyed, he pocketed the button in his own vest (well, he never knew when he might need one) and settled for removing the man's watch.

The next three men had nothing at all on their person. A fourth had a golden ring that wasn't so snug that it couldn't be slid off his finger. The following two brought the watch count up to three. The final man on the first group of cots was perhaps the largest man in the entire cell, very muscular and well-built. Vila surprised a slight shiver. He never discriminated in his choice of victims on the basis of sex, age, or even size. He trusted in his skill to see him through any job and enjoyed a challenge. Yet, his fearful nature and vivid imagination couldn't help but wonder about the trouble he would be in if the big, curly-haired man in front of him should wake while Vila "still had his hand in the cookie jar."

With an excess of caution, Vila fingered his way into the giant's breast pocket and was amply rewarded, pulling out what appeared to be a locket on a golden chain. With a tiny click, it opened revealing a heart-shaped picture of the large man and an attractive, dark-haired woman by his side. Suddenly, Vila's ears perked up and he froze as the man in front of him stirred and rolled over on his side to face the thief. After a few seconds, Vila felt it safe to breath again and took another look at the picture. The large man and his woman appeared to have been very happy together. Where was the woman now, Vila wondered? Did she know that her man was a criminal? Maybe it would help things if Vila left the large man his picture. After all, that's what had the sentimental value, right, not some gold necklace that's no more valuable than a cheap, wooden frame would be to the Mona Lisa. That way, if the man did wake up and discover his locket missing, he'd still have the most important part while Vila had the gold. Everyone got what he wanted most and the giant just might be a little less likely to pound Vila if he found out that the little thief was the one who had lifted him of his possession. Who said a thief has no honor?

Vila slipped the small picture out of the locket and was carefully tucking it back into the big man's pocket when a massive, hairy hand clamped down on top of his. He would have screamed, but his voice was too afraid to make it out of his throat. The large man opened his eyes fixing Vila with an icy, unblinking stare. Apparently, this man was a very light sleeper or Vila was a bit out of practice. These little flashes of conscience really could be a dangerous thing. Next time, Vila thought, I'll keep the bloody picture. The giant held Vila's delicate hand in an unrelenting grip.

"Haven't you heard," he said, "it's not nice to take other people's property."

"I – I wasn't stealing," Vila stammered. "But you're right about there being a thief around here. In fact, he just nicked my watch while I was asleep, so I thought maybe I could get it back now while he was sleeping. Only trouble is I don't know which chap it was, but it's obviously not you, so if you'll just release me I'll get out of your way and let you get back to your nap I interrupted. Sorry –AAAHH!

Vila let out a shriek as the big man's grip tightened on his hand forcing it to open.

"I don't believe you." The man looked puzzled upon seeing the empty hand. "Where's the locket?"

"Locket?" Vila repeated innocently.

"The locket you just took from me. Where is it?"

"Oh, that locket." Slowly, Vila reached into his vest pocket with his free hand and held up the locket for the giant to see. "It's right here, perfectly safe." Thick, strong fingers quickly snatched it out of his grasp and opened it. "I can't help myself. I've got that psychological disease klepto-whatsits. I'm particularly susceptible to anything shiny. So y'see it's not really my fault."

"Where's the picture?" The big man's grip tightened again on Vila's wrist causing him to whimper in pain. "It was of myself and a woman and now it's gone. What happened to it? And don't tell me you lost it either."

"It's still in your pocket."

"What?" The large man obviously hadn't expected that answer. His eyes narrowed and his face became a shade darker and more menacing than before. "You're lying."

"It is. Honest!" Vila couldn't keep the panic out of his voice. Check for yourself. Just please don't hurt me. I bruise easily."

The giant glared at the little thief kneeling on the floor in front of him. His puppy dog brown eyes were wide with fear and he was trembling. There was a fresh purple bruise on his forehead. He looked at the giant as if he expected to be hurt any minute, perhaps even killed. The large man had never seen anyone so afraid of him before and the sight truly alarmed him. The big man was not a bully or murderer, no matter what the Federation said. The giant kept his grip on the thief's hand and carefully reached into his own pocket. After a few seconds of searching, he surprisingly pulled out the heart-shaped picture. He finally released his grip on the small man's wrist which the thief immediately cradled, rubbing it gently.

"Why?" he asked, slipping the picture back into the locket and carefully tucking the whole necklace back into his pocket.

"Why what?" The thief appeared puzzled.

"Why did you go through all the trouble of leaving me the picture? It seems an odd thing for a thief to concern himself with."

"I don't know really. Maybe I'm more sentimental than I realize. The picture was of no value to me, but it obviously means something to you. Your lady friend's very pretty. I know the value of a good keepsake involving a beautiful woman. Who is she, if you don't mind my asking?"

The large man suddenly appeared more somber and withdrawn. His eyes became a shade misty. I do mind, he thought, but something about the talkative thief made him speak otherwise.

"Who was she, you mean? This locket was hers. It's all I have left of her now."

"I'm sorry." The thief's words were genuine. There was a moment of silence. "By the way, I'm Vila, Vila Restal."

"Olag Gan." He extended a burly hand that Vila accepted wincing at Gan's iron grip again.

"So, Gan, what are you in for that warrants spending the rest of your life on the hot spot vacation world of Cygnus Alpha?"

Gan produced a faint smile at Vila's sarcasm. "Some vacation. I killed a federation guard. They called it murder."

Vila shrank back. "What else could they call it?"

"Self defense maybe? The trial computer didn't take into account that the guard was armed. I wasn't. He had just killed my 'lady friend' as you call her just because he was trigger happy. Chances are someone else, maybe even me, would have been next."

"They're monsters all right." Vila pointed to the bruise on his forehead. "I'd hate to think what would have happened if the guard that gave me this had been allowed to continue playing whack the piñata with my head."

"I saw what happened. Does it still hurt?"

"Not as much as the hangover," Vila groaned, remembering he still had one.

"You really shouldn't drink like that. Too much can play havoc with your insides."

"If I'd paid more heed to that advice I might have been able to escape being here now."

"What do you mean?"

Vila paused wondering exactly where to begin. "Do you know who Reb Parotti is?"

"No, I don't think so." Gan wracked his memory for the name. "Should I?"

"I only wish I had known. Otherwise, I never would have gotten myself involved in the whole mess."

"Well, who was he?"

"A high ranking space commander turned rebel sympathizer. Apparently, he'd taken a lot of Federation secrets with him when he defected. He was recently captured and was being held in a maximum security prison for interrogation, that is, until I helped break him out."

Gan raised an eyebrow. "So you're a rebel as well as a thief?'

"Who me?" Vila looked surprised at the idea. "Nah, I've never been one to risk my life for anything as uncertain as a principle, but for what they were willing to pay for my lockpicking services it seemed worth it. Besides, Parotti's woman gave me a false name, said it was going to be an easy breakout and that her lover was small potatoes as far as the fed were concerned. By the time I realized it was Parotti we were after in the VIP section of the prison, it was past the point of no return. Plus, his lover said she would kill me herself if I tried to back out and run. It really was a shame she had such homicidal tendencies. Mara was quite beautiful as I remember."

"So what went wrong with the breakout?'

"Nothing. It was a complete success."

"Then how did you end up here?" Gan asked confused.

"A couple of nights later, I was out celebrating with Parotti and his gang when the bar was raided by Federation troops. Somehow, someone had tipped them off about Parotti's location. I still have no idea who it was. Mara suspected it was me, which was wrong of course. Well, as it turned out, they all got out except me. I knew I never should have had that last bottle or three of tequila. I didn't get more than two feet before I passed out cold at the feet of two troopers."

Gan was now lying back down on his cot, propped up on his right elbow. "That's quite a story. And here I thought you were just some measly pickpocket who was caught trying to lift the president's wallet."

"One of my lifelong ambitions," Vila smiled wryly and shifted from a kneeling to a more comfortable cross-legged position on the floor. "Although I guess I won't ever get that chance now."

A thought struck Gan. "You said you were good with locks." He pointed to the cell door. "Is there any chance you could open that one?"

"Not a chance." Then catching Gan's hint of disappointment he added, "I've already examined it a hundred times. It's handprint activated. Oh, I might be able to bypass it if I had the proper equipment, but unless you know anyone here who has managed to conceal some, there's no chance of that happening."

"It was worth asking," Gan sighed.

There was another moment of silence between them. Vila echoed Gan's sign with an extremely forlorn expression.

"It wouldn't be so bad, Cygnus Alpha,…I mean, yeah, it's a barren, degenerate lump of rock out in the middle of nowhere, light years away from all the pleasures of civilization, but that's just typical Federation punishment for you. Yet, to deprive a man of one of the basic functions of life, well that's downright inhuman!"

"What are you talking?" Gan stifled a yawn, his eyes half shut. He debated whether he could return to his slumber or continue listening to the ramblings of his talkative yet friendly cellmate.

"Just look around you, Gan!" the diminutive thief said, acting as if the answer was glaringly obvious. "Do you see any women in this cell?'

Despite being tired, Gan glanced around the prison cell. Vila was right, there were no females around. He had known that before, but the impact of what than meant had only been subconscious until now. With Serra so recently gone, the thought of looking for another woman was one of the furthest things from his mind. Still, when he remembered that the sentence to Cygnus Alpha was for forever, the idea of no female companionship was a very disturbing one.

"This isn't the only cell holding prisoners, I think. Maybe all the women are being held separately in another cell. Besides, we're not the first people to be sent to Cygnus. Perhaps there are some beautiful ladies already there just waiting for our arrival." Despite his optimistic tone, Gan was really trying to convince himself as much as Vila.

"I just hope you're right. Otherwise, it'll be time to start looking for the least painful way of committing suicide. I couldn't bear to living with the three 'w's'."

"What are the three 'w's'?"

"Wine, women, and wealth! What else?"

"I should have guessed," Gan smiled. He was beginning to get used to Vila's sarcastic sense of humor.

"Only the way things are going, I won't have any of them much longer." Vila fingered the bed sheet of Gan's cot. "I wonder if hanging yourself with one of these hurts as much as they say it does?"

Unknown to both Vila and Gan, a nearby prisoner overheard their conversation, their voices keeping him from maintaining a decent sleep. Tossing and turning, the brown-haired man finally opened his eyes to tell the two yakers to shut up, but first, he took a quick glance at his watch, or would have if it had still been on his wrist. The man, who's name was Arco, swiftly searched the folds of his sheet and under his cot to make sure it hadn't fallen off somehow. Still, all the while, a more likely thought as to his watch's whereabouts formed clearly in his mind.

"All right!" he thundered. "Who stole my watch!?"

Many other prisoners, who had managed a deep sleep before, jerked awake at this sudden outburst. There were several grumbles and a cacophony of noise, but many checked to see if their own possessions were gone. Several found nothing missing, but a few found that they shared Arco's predicament.

"My watch is gone too!" shouted the blonde man with the bristly moustache.

"Mine too!" yelled a redheaded third.

"Someone's taken my gold ring!" came yet another voice adding to the growing sentiment of violation and discontent.

"It appears a thief has been at work among us!" said Arco. "The question is who!"

The blonde man's eyes scanned the room. His gaze fell on Vila who was trying his best to look inconspicuous, but failed miserably looking just a little too innocent.

"Him!" he shouted. "It has to be him!"

"Are you sure?" asked the man who had lost his ring.

"Just look at him! He wouldn't be scared if he didn't have a good reason!"

"I didn't do it, honest!" Vila cried. "I just hate seeing violence which you no doubt will be inflicting on someone quite soon, that's all."

"Shut up!" shouted Arco. "Look at his hands, long and pampered. Those are the hands of a pickpocket if ever I saw them."

"He's right," said the man who had lost his ring. "I remember one of the troopers saying that thievery was his crime."

"Let's get him!" the redhead chimed in.

"Now let's be reasonable about this fellas…"

A roar of agreement to trounce the little thief sounded as the four men headed towards Vila with murderous intent and drowned out his words of protest. Vila closed his eyes in anticipation of the pain to come…but it never did.

"Get out of the way!" It was Arco's voice. Vila dared to open his eyes and saw Gan standing between him and his would-be attackers.

"Four against one doesn't sound like a fair fight," the large man said.

"Maybe you didn't hear, Gan. That little snot took our stuff!"

"And we want it back!" added the blonde man.

Gan folded his arms and stared back at Arco and the others, refusing to budge. "I heard every word and I'm telling you, if you want to lay a finger on Vila you'll have to go through me first."

The four attackers paused and glanced back at each other in huddle fashion.

"Oi, c'mon," said the man who had lost his ring. "There are four of us. We can take him, can't we?"

"You can," said the redhead. "But I'm not goin' to try to tackle him. I heard he's in here for killing someone."

"But what about our stuff?' the ring man persisted. "We're not gonna let that thieving piece o' garbage get away with it, are we?"

"Yeah, Gan." Arco turned back to face the giant that still barred their way. "What about our stuff?"

Vila, who had been watching the spectacle wide-eyed and silent (for once), was just beginning to feel safe when Gan turned around, grabbed his arm, and hauled him to his feet with one strong, swift motion.

"Give them their thing back, Vila."

"What?" Vila hesitated, half dazed that there had still been no violence and half pretending not to hear out of reluctance to give back what he had stolen.

"Now." A piercing look from Gan's brown eyes quickly made Vila hand over the three watches and gold ring from his vest pocket.

Gan handed them all back to their appropriate owners. "Is that all?"

For a moment Vila did nothing, then under the gaze of five pairs of glaring eyes, he reached back into his vest and pulled out the lone button with the bit of string still attached and handed it to Gan. The blonde man snatched it up with a quizzical expression. The four would-be attackers appeared satisfied enough to back off and went back to their cots when a familiar beeping sounded near the cell door. It meant that a new prisoner was arriving. As heads turned to see who it was, Vila took the opportunity to thank Gan.

"I know I was thinking of ways to end my suffering, but being beaten to death is such an undignified way to go."

"Just make sure I don't catch you picking my pocket again, or theirs for that matter. I doubt that they'll back off so easily a second time."

"Deal. Honestly though, I really appreciate you sticking up for me like that. Most people would have just stood by and let it happen."

"Well, I'm not most people. Besides, on Cygnus Alpha we're going to need all the friends we can get."

The two exchanged a smile. Then they turned to face the direction everyone else was looking as the new prisoner was brought in. Their eyes couldn't help but light up. It was a woman! She was quite a beautiful one too, with golden hair that fell to her shoulders, hazel eyes, and a sensual mouth. She wore a purple tunic with tight black trousers and shiny boots that accentuated her long legs.

"Y'know, Gan," said Vila happily with a gleam in his eye, "spending the rest of our lives on Cygnus Alpha may not be that bad after all!"

The End

In memory of David Jackson

1934-2005