Cry in the Darkness 12

A/N: To recap for those of you coming in late: this story is Chapter 12 in the novel, Thieves in Time, a collaboration between myself (pen name: MacBeth Smith) and my co-author, pen name: Ophelia Jones. Published in the early nineties, it enjoyed a respectable popularity in the Pacific Northwest, most notably at Virgule, a local slash convention, and Anglicon, a British media convention, both in the Seattle area, defunct, and sorely missed. It has been out of print for over 15 years.

Like the Torchwood fans who, appalled at the end of Season 3, wrote their own endings, work-arounds, and fixes, Blake's Seven fans had a similar response to having their favorite characters annihilated, originally on Christmas Eve, I'm told. This is how my friends and I altered the ending of the series and the slaughter on Gauda Prime.

From here on, this is technically an Alternate Universe of our own making, using canon characters and original characters, mostly set on the world of Darkover, created by Marion Zimmer Bradley.

Disclaimer: I don't own these characters; I just enjoy messing with their lives.

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"Damn it, Blake, you can't be serious!

"I am," was the quiet response. "The rebellion is perilously short of funds. The loss of those ships was more costly than you realize."

"But the man was your friend!"

Blake dropped his gaze to the floor. "He was more than that."

"And you're going to sacrifice him to your cause?"

"It's a question of the greater good, Deva. Avon himself would approve…if he knew."

I doubt that." Deva was taken aback. "From what I've heard of the man, willing martyr is not a description I would apply to Kerr Avon." He seemed to consider for a moment. "Survivor perhaps, but martyr?"

Blakd shook his head. "He won't have a choice."

Deva looked closely at his friend, seeing an expression that was new, a person he didn't recognize, someone he wasn't certain he wanted to know. The bounty hunter had taken control of the dedicated rebel. It was not a good sign.

"What makes you so certain he's coming here?"

"I've left a trail he can't help but follow," Blake replied. "He will be here. I'm positive…and very soon."

Deva shook his head, clearly doubting. "Well…" he hesitated. "You are in charge."

"Yes, Deva, I am." With that pronouncement, Roj Blake turned and left the office.

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A small cookfire burned. The spit over it contained the carcass of a small, local critter. Blake turned it once, then leaned back against the tree, eyes closed. He allowed his thoughts to turn to a former time, remembering the man he'd loved and rejected so cruelly, the man who would soon make the ultimate sacrifice for a cause he had originally refused to believe in.

I wish there were some other way. I don't know if I am capable of killing you, even for my precious rebellion, he thought.

"Avon…" he whispered to the wind. "Will you understand at the end, that you had to be the one …to die? Can you accept that it's the only way I can be free of the burden I've carried for two years, free of you?"

He leaned forward, rotating the spit again. If we had stayed together, I wonder what might have come of it.

Further musings were interrupted by the distinct sound of someone approaching from behind. Blake smiled and called out, "You're welcome to share the food."

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Alarms blared sharp and clear, warning lights flashed a counter tempo. Avon stood still, eyes riveted on the familiar figure who had just appeared in the entry.

"Is it him?" Tarrant asked.

"It's him," Vila answered, his expression unchanging.

Tarrant turned slightly. "He sold us, Avon…all of us…even you."

Avon took a step forward and raised his weapon. "Is it true?"

"Avon, It's me – Blake." Oh, gods…it's Avon…but not the Avon I left behind.

"Stand still!" ordered the tech, fighting against the emotions he had denied for two years. "Have you betrayed us?" he gasped. "Have you betrayed me?"

"Tarrant doesn't understand!" Blake countered. That's a lie, but I must cling to it.

"Neither do I, Blake!"

"I set all this up!" But I can't go through with it…I can't!

Blake began to walk towards his former lover, unheeding, unmindful of the weapon trained on him at point blank range. He barely felt the first concussion as the bullet struck him, moving forward yet. He reached out, entreating, begging, hands clutching as the second projectile hit. A third shot halted his movement just as he was able to touch…to hold…

"Avonnnn…" I…love… He slid to the floor, aware of nothing but the name that died on his lips…died as he died. One final breath and it was done.

Avon looked down, unmoving, even as Federation guards entered from all sides. He didn't seem to notice as one by one his friends, his crew, fell to the guards' assault. Finally, he looked up, turning, uncomprehending of the carnage around. He took one more step, straddling Blake…protecting…he smiled, beginning the long, slow descent into darkness…

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A/N: Thus ends the Blake's Seven canon. But not our story! Stay tuned for the surprising return of a long dead friend of Avon and Vila's.