The Baldivis Encounter

by ariom

On the planet Baldivis, Vila meets a Federation officer

THE BALDAVIS ENCOUNTER

Set during the first season of blake's 7. Unfortunately I own neither the rights to the show nor to any of the original characters.

8 009 words

Heroic was the last word Vila would have used to describe himself but when he saw the young woman walking ahead of him attacked by three men he barely hesitated before joining in the fracas.

He had planned on this bar being his last port of call; of settling down perhaps for a sociable chat over a few drinks and maybe even a game of some sort, preferably beneficial to one Vila Restal. He'd been asking enough questions for Blake and getting no answers. He was entitled to some rest and relaxation. But things hadn't worked out that way. At least he'd managed the drink, but neither the barman nor any of the half dozen mournful customers had been inclined to chat or gamble, so he had left, grimacing to himself as he had done so. It had been a dead loss. He'd visited at least half a dozen bars, but had found out nothing for Blake, and worse still, hadn't even enjoyed himself much!

Meandering along the narrow footpath, he'd been keeping his eyes out for a conveniently deserted alleyway to call Gan and have himself teleported back to the Liberator when his attention had been caught abruptly by what was going on fifty metres down the street.

The woman had been walking alone, in a manner that suggested she feared nothing and no one, even in this rough neighbourhood, when the three men had slipped out of an alley to her right and quickly surrounded her. She hadn't screamed, but had struck out at one of her attackers and then had been grabbed from behind by another, while they attempted to drag her out of view.

Vila blinked, grabbed for the handgun by his side and rushed in, charging around the corner and into the little melee.

"Let her go!" His voice sounded unnaturally loud but he waved the gun around to emphasise his point. The man who held the woman looked up, snarling, and curtly addressed the other two.

Get him."

Vila backed slightly as they approached, one from either side. He pulled a face and shook his head briefly, then chose the larger of the two and fired at him. He had a gun and he was damned if he was going to try petty heroics by starting a fist fight he couldn't hope to win. The man dropped in his tracks, Vila for once not even caring whether he had killed someone or not. More fool he had been for trying to rush a man with a gun, anyway. He would never have tried such a thing. The other thug hesitated and the woman took advantage of this disturbance to wrench herself free, throwing her attacker neatly over her shoulder to crash head first onto the paved path.

Vila's assailant looked back at the sound of the crash, glanced again at his fallen companion, and then came to the abrupt conclusion that discretion was indeed the better part of valour in the situation. He turned and ran up the alley and the woman, still half crouched, pulled a small something shiny from her boot. Vila squinted as light reflected from the blade she threw at the running man. It struck his arm and he stopped, half turning and pulling out a gun to fire. But she had moved quickly and threw a second knife, which buried itself hilt deep in his chest. He gave a choked off cry and fell flat on his face. She stood up, jerked her head tersely at Vila and spoke flatly.

"See how those other two are."

He nodded and started off towards the one she'd tossed to the ground. He, at least, wasn't dead. But as Vila approached from behind the man he cautiously half raised himself, murmuring almost incoherently in the direction of his left wrist.
Then, incredibly, all three men disappeared. Totally and completely and without a sound. Vila's mouth dropped open and the woman, who had bent to retrieve one of her two throwing knives and replace it inside her boot, gave a sharp cry.

"Damn!"

Vila stood quite still.

"Are you all right?" he said, sounding to himself even more stunned than he felt. Her fighting reaction, and the disappearance of her would be attackers had all been just too much for him. She walked to him and smiled, holding out her hand.

"Thank you. I appreciate your help."

"Do you know who they were?" he asked, managing somehow to keep his voice level, and she shrugged.

"Not who exactly. But I do know who sent them." She made a face. "Obvious, isn't it? They disappeared, right in front of our eyes. They must have been teleported back to wherever they came from." Her voice was suddenly hard. "And the only one with teleport facilities is Blake, on the Liberator. They were part of Blake's gang."

"Ah...what?" Vila felt his mouth drop open, then he shook his head as if to clear it. "No. No, that couldn't be so."

"And why not?" She took his arm and they left the alley way. Outside, under a street light, Vila studied her face. She wasn't as young and fragile as he had at first thought. She was about his own age and height, inclined to plumpness, or it could have been muscle, under the dark jumpsuit she wore. She looked at him with intent grey eyes, a sharp tone of curiousity in her voice. "Do you perhaps know something I don't?"

Vila smiled.

"I know they weren't Blake's men. I do know that. But why did they attack you?" Better start asking her some questions, he decided, before she started asking him more. Like the three would be assailants in the alley, he was rapidly realising he'd got more than he'd bargained for. She surveyed him coolly.

"You're a stranger to this planet, aren't you?"

"Yes, but - "

"You've heard of Blake, though?"

"Yes." Vila smiled to himself. "You could put it like that."

"You've heard of Blake, but you don't know who I am." Her eyes narrowed. "And I have never seen you around here before - "

"I told you I was a stranger to the planet - "

" - but there is something vaguely familiar about your face."

He shrugged uncomfortably.
"I can't see how that can be."

"Well." She smiled suddenly. "You saved my life, you know that?"

He tried to look self effacing.
"Ah, I dunno. I think you might have handled them."

"One, maybe, but not all three." She was suddenly grave. "Do you have a name?"

"Ah, yes. I'm - Rennar."

She smiled. "And I am Lyria Patel." She paused. "I am the senior Federation officer on this miserable planet. That is why Blake's men were after me. They are up to something; there have been a couple of reports about some activity around the old spaceport on the other side of the planet. I had planned on getting out there some time tomorrow, and everybody knew that." She shrugged. "They were going to prevent me. Rather permanently, I suspect."

"They weren't Blake's men." He stopped suddenly, realising what else she had said before that. "Federation? You're Federation?" Ohmigod, he thought to himself, what have I gone and gotten myself into this time?

They had been walking, but Lyria Patel stopped, putting herself directly in front of Vila.

"You're very definite about that. That's three times you've said they're not from Blake's gang. They had teleport facilities. You saw them disappear. And Blake is very well known to have a grudge against the Federation." She smiled again and made a quick gesture and Vila blinked at the glittering knife blade held under his nose. Her voice was very low. "There▓s only one way you could be so sure they're not Blake's men. And that is if you yourself are with him."

Vila laughed nervously.
"Your name's not Rennar, is it?" she said conversationally. "So what is it?"

Vila backed away but she moved with him.
"Listen, Lyria, put that knife away. It's making me nervous."

"It's making you nervous." She laughed shortly. "How do you think I feel?" "You - you could be wrong, y'know. I could know so much about Blake because I'm - I'm one of your lot. Federation as well. I could even be here investigating you"
Lyria suddenly threw back her head and laughed, this time in genuine amusement. She continued to laugh as she bent to slide the knife away again.

"That is lovely. That really is." She took his arm. "Listen, Rennar, or whatever your name is, I know you're not Federation. I don't know who you are, but I do know who you're not. So let's go home to my place and we'll have something to eat and drink and get all this sorted out. Okay?"

He frowned.
"Why are you so sure I'm not Federation?" He was mildly indignant and she smiled again, her eyes amused.

"Look, Rennar, this is a very out of the way planet. Of very little interest to the Federation, or to anyone else for that matter. There is a minimal Federation representation on this planet. If they were going to send anyone here, anyone at all, I'd know all about it, I assure you."

"Huh?"

"A minimal representation, Rennar. One person. Me. I'm the senior Federation officer here on Baldavis because I'm the only Federation officer here."

Vila stared at her, and then joined in her laughter.

"The only one? Oh, that is lovely, Lyria. It's priceless."

Arm in arm, still chortling, they walked along the street. But deep down Vila was still bothered by a nagging thought. Those three men were nothing to do with Blake. Nothing at all. But still, inexplicably, they had a teleport, of some kind. And that, of course, was why they had come to Baldavis in the first place, to find someone else with teleport facilities. Someone nasty. He had to contact the ship, soon, to let them know what had happened. But under Lyria Patel's watchful, albeit amused, eyes, he would have little chance to do that in private.

The Liberator had come to Badavis, due to messages relayed via Avalon and one or two other rebel bases. At first the messages had made little or no sense, thanking Blake for their anti-Federation strikes on a couple of planets, then progressing to pleas to be discriminate in their attacks, and finally to outright and total condemnation of several pointless and bloody attacks on civilians. At the beginning Blake had been amused, inspired almost that other rebels were beginning to take courage and emulate their deeds. But finally it had dawned on him that someone was using his name to mask indiscriminate killings and terrorism.

Now if that someone had confined his activities to anti-Federation strikes Blake might have been happy. But he didn't take at all kindly to being blamed for the loss of innocent lives, in piratical acts of violence. So the Liberator had gone in pursuit, following the trail of events until they had ended up in orbit around Baldavis. Fortunately, along the way, in a frantic exchange of messages, Blake had been able to establish their innocence, and their intentions to track down and punish those who were truly responsible.

Gan and Jenna had remained on the ship on teleport duty while the other four had gone down to Baldavis's sole city, Reekar, to see what there was to be garnered in the way of information or leads. They had had little enough to go on, as Avon hadn't tired of pointing out. The 'rebels' had made a point of leaving as few witnesses alive as possible on their raids. But the few terrified survivors had all mentioned something in common. Their attackers, consisting usually of three or four men, sometimes accompanied by a blonde woman - to Jenna's indignation - had appeared, wrought their acts of sabotage, larceny and terrorism, and then had - quote - 'disappeared into thin air'.

"A teleport?" Gan had said, wrinkling his nose. "I thought we were the only ones with that?"

Avon and Blake exchanged glances. ⌠We were. Do you suppose the Federation has managed a break through, Avon? They were very heavily involved in that programme. They might have managed something?"

"And then handed it over to someone else? Hardly likely." Avon was thoughtful. "But if the Federation had developed a teleport, and they were using it in that way, it would certainly be very useful in discrediting you, and hence splitting the rebel movement." He smiled wryly and totally without humour. "After all, as far as most people know, we are the only ones with a teleport."

Blake frowned.
"A bit extreme though, wouldn't you say? After all, some of these strikes have been against Federation property."

"Mostly they've been directed against civilians. Wealthy helpless ones. And I've studied the Federation damage. It was minor. An empty arms depot, an unimportant communications centre - that was due for replacement anyway. Nothing important."

Vila had sat up on the lounger, following this conversation. Now he blinked.

"You mean - they might have gone to all that trouble - just to discredit us? But - that's not fair!"

"Not fair?" Avon regarded him with mockery. "Vila, when did the Federation ever play fair? With you, me, or anyone else?"

"Hmm." Blake was thoughtful. "Federation or not, they've certainly managed to do a lot of damage. They just about turned the rest of the rebels against us. I've had to do a lot of fast talking to convince some of them we had nothing to do with it."

"So now all we have to go on is the name Baldavis. A planet. That's where they might be headed."

Jenna nodded. "Yes, it's not much. One of the survivors from the last raid heard one of their attackers mention 'a rest' on Baldavis. He appeared to be looking forwards to it."

Vila shrugged.
"So we go to Baldavis too. Where's that? Is it a big place?"

"Hardly. It's an outer planet. No Federation control, but Zen mentioned they have some sort of representation on the planet. It's mainly undeveloped, a few farms, a bit of mining, nothing important. A couple of towns and one city. Sounds like the end of the universe. A hole."

"One city?" Vila's face creased. "What sort of a planet has one city?"

Gan grinned.
"Baldavis, Vila. That sort of planet." He smiled faintly, reminiscently. "Sounds like the sort of place I came from." But in spite of that comment he had opted to remain on the ship with Jenna while the others went down.

And although Vila had drifted in and out of more than half a dozen bars he had remained stone cold sober. Unfortunately also he had heard nothing of use to Blake. He had been bored, planning his return to the Liberator when he had been witness to Lyria's attack.

She stopped outside a nondescript building and produced a key. Vila watched in professional interest as she inserted it into a narrow lock and then placed her left hand on the glass panel beside it. The door slid open and she smiled at him.

"Put your hand on the glass panel, Rennar." He hesitated and she shook her head gently. "My security system. I designed it myself. When I have it turned on, which is most of the time unless I actually want people to come and visit, unless the key is in and my palm print has already been accepted, you will find it impossible to enter. There's a force wall set up, you see. The door can be opened, but no one and nothing can enter, unless the correct sequence has been run through. My key, my palm, then your palm - or whoever it is who wants in. And I have the only key."

"Clever." Vila complied and followed her inside. They walked through what appeared to be a small and rather untidy office into a living area, larger and also untidier.
Lyria moved aside a pile of books and clothes and odds and ends from a comfortable looking chair and motioned Vila to sit down.

"Are you hungry?"

"Ah, yes."

"And I suppose you'd like a drink?"

He grinned.
"Wouldn't say no." He cast a glance back towards the front door. "Ah, what happens if someone tries to get in without a key?" She had produced a chilled bottle and two glasses and poured out drinks before she answered him.

"An alarm goes off in here, and an energy discharge paralyses anyone trying to break in."

"That's not very friendly."

"Paralyses only. It's a purely temporary effect. I made it very well publicised when I set it up. Everyone here knows about it." She had taken her glass to a small computer readout and terminal set up in a corner on a desk and now she turned back to him, a smile on her face. "The same thing happens, Vila, if someone inside tries to leave without my authorisation."

"Oh." He stared at her, the glass half way to his lips. He pulled a face and set it down. "How did you know?"

"The palm print. Beside the security lock." She regarded him with mockery and a hint of sympathy in her eyes and for a moment Vila felt a disturbing chill up and down his spine. "I'm an expert, Vila. As the only Federation representative on this planet I have to be. But if it's any consolation to you, I do believe you now. Those men who attacked me weren't with Blake. But you are with him. So why are you here?"

"Ah." Vila shifted uncomfortably, picked up his glass and drained it and held it out to her with a forced smile. "Can I have another drink?"

Lyria smiled and sipped at her own glass.
"Don't get drunk. This is an imported wine. It's very expensive - and very potent. And it tastes deceptively harmless."

"Are you - an expert on wines then, too?"

Her eyes were suddenly cold.

"I'm an expert on a lot of things. Making people talk is one of them. I do hope I won't have to resort to anything unpleasant in your case."

"I hope so too." He sipped at his refilled glass, cautiously this time, and settled himself more comfortably. "Aren't you forgetting that I have a gun?"

"Hah!" She laughed. "Do you know what an energy dampener field does?"

He sighed.
"All right, all right."

"That weapon is rather less than useless in here, I'm afraid." She leaned forwards slightly. "Now tell me why you're on Baldavis."

He nodded slowly.
"Someone's been attacking civilians, Lyria. They're terrorists and murderers - and they've been using a teleport to escape. We were being blamed for what they were doing - so we're trying to find out who's responsible." His tone was grave. "Blake doesn't care for the murder of innocents in his name."

"So you came to Reekar." Lyria nodded slightly. "You - think those responsible are on Baldavis somewhere?"

"It's possible." Vila hesitated. In spite of the situation, and his awareness of the danger behind Lyria's mocking facade, he was warming to the woman. "We - do think it's possible that the Federation has discovered a teleport system and has been doing this in order to discredit Blake and wreck any chances we might have of getting the rebel groups united and organised."

"What?" Her face flushed and for the first time she displayed anger. "That's ridiculous! The Terran Federation wouldn't stoop to such underhand and despicable tactics just to do that! Why should we support such acts of violence just to discredit Blake and sow disharmony among the rebel scum?"

Vila smiled cynically. Avon should have been here to hear this.

"You really believe that?"

"Yes. Yes, I do. I'm part of the Federation, Vila. I've heard of Blake. If we don't get rid of him soon he's going to be a bloody nuisance in the future. But we wouldn't go about getting rid of him that way!"

"You believe in what you're doing, don't you?" His tone was gentle, curious.

"Yes, of course. I've worked for the Federation for a long time, Vila. I believe that we need a unifying and ruling power - and that power is the Federation. Anyone who challenges it is a danger, and must be removed. For the good of the majority. Blake is a hazard and he must be stopped."

"So you've said. But if Blake isn't responsible for all that, and neither is the Federation, then who is behind it?"

She was silent, thoughtful, and Vila took the opportunity to refill both his glass and hers. Momentarily, he had forgotten he was so keen to contact the Liberator. He had forgotten just how long it was since he was supposed to have returned to the ship.

But he hadn't been forgotten. Blake, Avon and Cally had returned, with no information or clues, and they had all waited to hear from Vila. But in vain. Avon had looked irritated.

"He's probably stuck in one of those bars. I thought it was a mistake to let him wander around by himself."

"Perhaps he's doing a pub crawl?" Jenna suggested, with a tone of laughter in her voice.

"I certainly wouldn't put it past him." Avon glanced at Cally, who was seated behind the teleport console. "See if you can get in touch with him, will you?"

Vila jumped as the communicator on his bracelet chimed. Lyria blinked suspiciously.

"What was that?"

"Ah." Vila looked sheepish. "My...wrist watch alarm." He stood up. "Ah, that wine...where's the bathroom?" She relaxed and grinned, pointing at a passageway leading from the room.

"Down there, second door on the left."

"Ta. Any chance of some food, hey?"

"All right."

He hurried along the passageway and shut the door behind him. He would have liked to have locked it, but there was no lock. He thumbed the communicator.

"Vila here. Cally?"

"Are you all right?"

Avon leaned across the console.
"More to the point, are you sober?"

"Don't be rude, Avon. Did you or the others find out anything?"

"No. When - "

"Well, I have. And I'm investigating further."

"Where are you?" Avon frowned at Vila's chortle.

"Having supper with the senior Federation officer on Baldavis. The only Federation officer on Baldavis."

Avon pulled a face.
"Are you drunk, Vila?"

"You already asked me that. I'm all right, Avon." His tone became wheedling. "Look, give me another hour. I'll be in touch then. But don't try to contact me before then. I just might be onto something. Out."

"Vila - "

But Vila had broken the connection. Avon and Cally regarded each other, eyebrows raised.

"Well - "

She shrugged.

"He sounded sober. Maybe he is onto something."

"Having supper with a Federation officer?" Avon left the teleport area, not in the best of moods. He found Blake on the flight deck with Jenna and Gan, and relayed the little thief's information. Blake looked nonplussed and then sat down on the lounger.

"Well, if he is onto anything, he's done more than the rest of us. I suppose we'll just have to give him the hour he asked for."

"I suppose so." Avon shrugged and swung to address Zen.

"Zen, locate Vila's position on the planet and relay that information to the teleport area. Notify us immediately if there is any change."

"Confirmed."

"Cally, keep that fix on Vila. He just might need help, and I want to know exactly where he is."

"All right, Avon. Zen's got the information to me. I'll be waiting, just in case he calls in before the hour is up."

Avon sat down and regarded the others blandly.

"I trust he's enjoying himself. He certainly sounded as if he were."

Vila sat opposite Lyria and ate hungrily.
"This isn't bad at all."

She made a short sound of amusement.
"Pre-packaged and cooked. All I had to do was put it into the auto prepare. I can't cook from natural ingredients."

"That must be one of the few things you can't do then."

She smiled and shook her head and ate her own meal.

"Vila, am I correct in stating that it had been assumed all along, by the other rebels, that these - terrorists were from the Liberator?"

"Well, it was in the beginning. Till Blake managed to convince them otherwise."

"And that was assumed simply because they had a teleport?"

"Yes, but - "

"Maybe they don't need such a complicated teleport system as you have. Maybe they use a little ship that either comes in close or lands a short distance away. They could make their strikes quickly and then escape back to their ship via their teleport."

"Hmm, that could be so. But it would still mean someone else had the secret of the matter transmitter. And we certainly haven't been spreading it around!" He grinned. "I don't think even Avon's managed to figure out how it works. Not exactly anyway."

"A short range system wouldn't require anywhere near the power output necessary for your system. It really could be a relatively simple procedure." She put down her fork, her face thoughtful. "I remember a man I knew on Earth, who was deeply involved in the matter transmitter programme. But he died - at least he was reported dead. Fortunate. He had showed signs of incipient megalomania...I wonder if..." She lapsed into abstracted silence. Then she got up and crossed to her computer console. Vila sat and watched as she tapped in instructions and directions for several minutes. Finally she turned back to him. "Does the name Ska Zandor mean anything to you?" Vila shook his head.

"Never heard of him. Why?"

"He was working on the project, at the same time as Blake. They - ah - disagreed strongly on quite a few matters. Ethical, I gather, as much as technical. Ska disappeared and a lot of important information disappeared with him. It was thought he had been killed in an accidental explosion. Maybe he wasn't." She looked up at him, a mocking gleam in her eyes. "I think your hour is just about up, Vila. You'd better get in touch with your friends again." Her smile was sly. "This is, after all, an official residence. All the rooms are bugged. Even the smallest room - especially the smallest room." Vila blinked at her.

"You amaze me, Lyria. You look like butter wouldn't melt in your mouth - "

"I haven't got much time for bureaucracy either. That's why I was banished to this dump in the first place. For the moment, Vila, we can forget you and I are supposed to be enemies. You want to find out who's been attacking innocent civilians and blackening your collective names, and I wouldn't mind getting my hands on Ska Zandor, or whoever is behind all this. That would be a coup for me and I'd likely get a posting away from here, to someplace where I could do some real work for a change. My talents are being grossly wasted here. So call up your friends, huh?"

"Blake?"

"Cally here, Vila. I'll put you through to him. Are you all right?"

"Yeah, fine, Cally. Blake? Blake, I think we've got something. You 'n' Avon come down. Lyria thinks she's traced our - competitor."

Blake nodded slightly. "All right, Vila. Cally, set the coordinates." He was half way to the doorway when Avon addressed him sharply.

"Blake!"

"What?"

"Take a gun. He did say he was with a Federation officer. No sense in going undefended."

Blake nodded and put the gun and belt and power pack on, glancing at Avon as he did so.

"You don't trust anyone, do you?"

"I have no intention of teleporting anywhere at any time unarmed. Life's too short, Blake, to toss it away because you are foolish enough to trust the wrong person."

Vila was thoughtful as he closed the communicator and turned back to Lyria.
"They're coming down." He rubbed his cheek. "That - ah - energy dampening field you mentioned - "

"Yes?" Her eyes were bright.

"It - ah - is it turned on or off at the moment?"

She tilted her head at him curiously.
"Why do you ask that?"

Vila sat down and looked at her directly.

"There isn't an energy dampening field, is there, Lyria? If there had been, my communicator wouldn't have worked, and - " He went on as Blake and Avon shimmered into full materialisation before them, " - the teleport wouldn't work either, would it?"

She smiled at him.
"There really is one, Vila, but, as you say, it's not turned on at the moment."

Regarding the weapons held on her, she pulled a face. "They would work quite effectively here." She was seated at the computer console and smiled at Blake gently. "Now that is a neat way to travel. I wish I'd thought of it."

She wasn't even slightly bothered by the guns, Vila thought to himself. If anything, she was amused. Or else she was putting on a damned good show of it.

"I am Lyria Patel," she said quietly, her eyes on Blake's face. "I am the senior Federation officer on Baldavis. I gather we're going to be temporary allies."

"I'm Roj Blake. This is Avon." She nodded.

"I - do recognise the names. I may be able to help. Vila has told me what's been going on."

Avon's steady gaze was still fixed on her.
"Vila, is she armed?"

"Huh? Oh..."

Lyria gazed ceilingwards.
"Listen, Blake, I'm offering to help you. I am quite capable of looking after myself, but taking on three armed men deliberately, with only a knife - "

"Two knives, " Vila interrupted.

"One knife. There was one left in the body that disappeared, remember. One knife against three guns is long odds, especially when there's one pointed at me already. And I'm quite sure he wouldn't hesitate to use it."

Avon smiled coolly and held out his hand.
"So give me the knife, Lyria." She sighed and bent to slide it up and out of her boot. She tossed it sideways and he caught the handle.

"I'll have it back, afterwards."

"You might." He tucked it and also his gun away and turned back to Blake. "Lyria Patel. I've heard of her. We had a mutual friend."

"Oh?"

"Yes. This woman has scored very highly in every single Federation course she ever took. Weaponry, computers, security, communications, you name it. But - "

Lyria cast a quick sideways look at Vila and murmured under her breath, "But not any of the domestic arts and sciences."

"So what are you doing in a place like this?" Blake asked.

"Ah...I've always had a - ah - discipline problem," Lyria admitted with a shameless grin. "Total inability to follow orders blindly, not to mention total inability to take life in the Federation service seriously." She gave another sideways grimace at Vila. "I didn't take anything seriously. Not very seriously anyway. Certainly not enough for my superiors."

"A joker," Avon commented sourly and she gave him a quick look.

"Maybe so. But if I had tried to embezzle umpteen million credits from the banking system I would have succeeded - and I wouldn't have got caught either."

Blake and Vila looked at each other.

"Yes, well, if you two have finished trading insults, let's get down to business."

"Yes." Lyria was brisk. "You remember Ska Zandor now, don't you, Blake?"

On the far side of Baldavis three small spacecraft were parked. Their base was a deserted Federation spaceport, built years before when it had been believed Baldavis was rich in minerals and worth developing. But it had turned out to be rather less than useless, and had long been deserted in favour of the one sizeable city of Reekar. For the little group it was an ideal hideout.

Ska Zandor was a big man, about the same size as Gan. Unlike Gan, he could and did kill without compunction or mercy. He had worked for the Federation in order to acquire knowledge, and through that, power for himself. The matter transmitter programme had fascinated him, with its potential. He had encountered Roj Blake more than once, and they had conflicted violently. He had not been broken hearted to hear of Blake's trial and subsequent banishment to Cygnus Alpha.

When he had made the final breakthrough in the teleport project Ska Zandor had decided it was time to disappear. He had staged his 'death', taking the opportunity to fake the destruction of a great deal of valuable information, and he had escaped easily in a stolen craft, heading for an outer planet on which to perfect his device. Along the way he had picked up an odd assorted band of mercenaries and psychopaths, and they had made their base on Baldavis.

Unfortunately, Zandor's teleport device had its drawbacks. Its range was limited to less than a thousand metres, vertical or horizontal, and recall was impossible after more than thirty minutes unless a totally new locator fix was established. Still, it was sufficient for a start. They tried it out by first attacking a disused arms depot, guarded by a handful of men awaiting troop transport out of the place.

By then, of course, Blake had escaped the London and he and his crew had taken the Liberator. Zandor, ever pleased to make mischief and sow disharmony, struck out at another unimportant Federation base and then made a series of strikes aimed at enriching his crew and at the same time discrediting Blake and his lot.

Baldavis had been a good place for them, with only one city and that on the other side of the planet. The single Federation officer had seemed unimportant, until she had started getting curious about the few reports that been trickling in to her about 'strange activities' in and around the supposedly deserted spaceport. Ska Zandor also had heard about Lyria Patel, and the fact that her posting to Baldavis had been more of a disciplinary measure than anything else. Still, she was bright, far too bright, and likely to discover far too much for his peace of mind.

So he had sent three of his men to attack and silence her, before she got any further. Prevention, Zandor had always believed, was easier than cure.
But of his three would be assassins, two had returned dead and the third critically wounded. He had died shortly after their return to the small ship that had carried them to Reekar. Their pilot, the only woman in their gang, had returned to base knowing only that the mission had failed. She had had no details, much to his chagrin and anger.

And now Zandor had discovered that a large unidentified spacecraft was in orbit around Baldavis. It wasn't Federation, he was sure of that. But if not Federation, then who was it?

Zandor found out quickly enough, but certainly not in the way he would have preferred. He and his group of half a dozen renegades were in the larger building of the erstwhile spaceport, the one they used for their living quarters, when three men and three woman, all carrying weapons ready to use, materialised outside and burst in through the open doorway.

"Don't move!" Cally snapped as Zandor made a move towards the weapon at his waist, and he froze. One of his men was not so cautious and tried to get a shot off at Blake. He died with his hand still half way to his gun, Avon's cold brown stare the last thing he ever saw. Zandor stood up, raising his hands placatingly as Blake stared at him.

"You're not going to massacre us all in cold blood, surely, Blake?"

"You've been doing enough of that recently, Zandor - and we've been getting the blame for it. I'm interested in what you've managed to get in the way of a teleport system. Where is it?"

Zandor's response was crude and unprintable. Jenna glanced across at Cally.

"Not nice. He definitely needs a lesson in manners, wouldn't you say, Cally?"

"I agree." Cally's face and voice were gentle, but the menace behind that gentleness was tangible. "Blake, what if Jenna and Lyria and I take him out of here and give him instruction?"

"That would be a pleasure," Lyria echoed. "You have a knife here that belongs to me, Zandor. It was sticking in one of your thugs last time I saw it."

The sullen blonde woman seated by Zandor nodded.
"The bodies are in the other room. We haven't got round to burying them yet."

Blake scratched at his earlobe.
"Don't waste your time hurrying that. Do you know where the teleport device is set up?"

She stared back at him.
"I want my life in exchange for information and cooperation," she said flatly. Vila gave her a quick look.

"And how many people have you killed for him?"

"None," she snapped. "I'm a pilot, not a butcher!"

Blake nodded slightly.

"Avon. Go with her." As he moved Blake tapped the canister slung around Avon's shoulder. "Use them. Set them for - ah - ten minutes. That should give us enough time." Avon nodded, giving a quick glance towards Lyria, who was moving through the opposite door on the way to retrieve her knife. She wouldn't approve of their destroying Zandor▓s matter transmitter, Blake thought briefly and then dismissed the thought. Too bad. Avon followed the blonde woman while the others herded Zandor and his men into a group against the wall. They dropped their weapons reluctantly. Blake scowled. There were four of them, counting Zandor. Plus the three Vila and Lyria had encountered, and the one Avon had killed. Plus the woman. He drew back and murmured to Cally. "Check the building for any others. Vila, go and plant these on their crafts."

"We're going to blow the lot up, then?" Vila made no attempt to conceal his delight, and he caught Lyria's arm as she re-entered, wiping her knife fastidiously on a piece of rag. "C'mon, Lyria, let's go plant some bombs."

"In a minute. What about the matter transmitter, Blake? I want to get my hands on that."

Zandor laughed harshly.
"Then you'd better get after Avon and Leila. That little two timing bitch was going to show him where it is."

Lyria looked quickly at Blake.
"I want that matter transmitter, Blake. For the Federation."

"Sorry, Lyria."

"You said - "

"I didn't promise you anything."

"I see." She swung on her heel and went out, Vila close behind her. "It has to be on one of their ships. Let's go." She hurried along, after Avon and Leila, heading for the concrete area where the three ships were parked in a line.

Leila was half smiling as Avon inspected the controls inside the largest of the three ships. He still held his gun but his attention was directed away from her.

"You - are going to let me go, aren't you?" she wheedled and he gave her a brief look of dislike.

"That's up to Blake. In my opinion you're as guilty as the rest of them." He turned back towards the equipment and did not see her fingers inching towards the locker door beside her.

Vila and Lyria broke into a run as they heard the shots, two of them in rapid succession. Vila bounded up the entry ladder. The second shot had been from a Liberator handgun, but the first...

Avon was supporting himself against the teleport control console, blood seeping out from under his left arm. Leila lay slumped on the floor, a gun fallen from her hand. Vila hurried to Avon.

"Are you all right?"

Avon gritted his teeth.
"No, Vila, I am not all right. She shot me. Just a graze. I don't think she hit anything vital."

"Well, you certainly did." Lyria had bent to the woman and she straightened up again. "She's dead. So this is their matter transmitter. Fascinating."

"No, Lyria." Vila caught her arm. "We have to destroy it."

"It's very inefficient in any case," Avon said flatly. "It has a limited range and time duration - "

"It could be advanced and refined - "

"Not by the Federation." Avon still held his gun and he raised it slightly, at the same time passing his canister of bombs to Vila. "Set four of these, Vila. Two in here and two outside, on the support."

"No - " Lyria began, but Avon snapped over her voice.

"Do it, Vila. Now!" He smiled slightly at the woman. "And don't even think about throwing one of those pretty little knives of yours at me, Lyria. Or picking up Leila's gun."

"You have a damn funny way of treating your allies, Avon." She shrugged angrily in defeat, then at Avon's order followed Vila down the access ladder and watched while he set the remainder of the explosives. Beside her Avon staggered slightly and she scowled then offered her arm to support him. He stared at her coldly.

"I can manage."

"If you fall over I'll be damned if I'll help you up."

An unwilling smile twitched at the side of his mouth and he nodded, leaning against her as they watched Vila.

Zandor sneered at Blake.
"You're aligning yourself with the Federation now, Blake. With her?"

"The Federation is not the lowest scum around here, Zandor. That description is reserved for you and your gang." Blake's voice was icy. "You've killed enough innocent people. And for nothing! There was no point to it all. It was terrorism and killing simply for the sake of violence. You disgust me!"

He half turned at the sound of returning footsteps and voices, and as he did so Zandor saw his chance and dived for his weapon. But as his hand touched it Cally fired and he staggered, knocking over a table and falling heavily. His men attempted to take advantage of this momentary confusion to reach for their guns but this time not one of the Liberator crew hesitated. It was all over very quickly and they walked out into the fresh air as the other three approached. Blake held out his hand to Vila.

"Let me have two of those and I'll plant them inside. Avon, you're hurt."

"I'll live. Get on with it, Blake."

Cally put her gun away quietly.

"They are all dead," she said. "What about Leila?"

Vila shook his head.
"She had a go at Avon."

Blake came out of the building.
"Let's get out of here. This place is due for demolition. Gan? Bring us all up now."

From the flight deck of the Liberator they had watched the very satisfying explosion. Satisfying to them all, that was, except to Lyria Patel. She sat very still, betraying no nervousness and no fear, but her whole body was tensed. For once, her sense of humour seemed to have deserted her. Vila sat beside her and she had accepted the glass he offered wordlessly, drinking it quickly and putting it down. Blake's face was grim.

"We are rebels, Lyria. And against the Federation. But we cannot condone what they were doing."

"You could have let me have the matter transmitter," she said bitterly, and beside her Vila grinned.

"Cheer up, Lyria. We'll take you home now, and you can go back to being top Federation dog on Baldavis."

"Oh thanks," she said unenthusiastically. Jenna regarded her thoughtfully.

"Don't you want to go back, Lyria?"

"I don't know. I really don't know." The other woman rubbed at her forehead tiredly.

"I've always been for the Federation. I can't imagine how it would be otherwise. And I've always believed that rebels of any kind should be crushed for the good of the majority. I regarded you all as criminal scum before I met you."

"Zandor and his lot were the scum," Vila observed and she nodded slowly.

"Now...I'm not going to stay on Baldavis for ever. Sooner or later they're going to rescue me from this place and give me a better job. And I've always been good at whatever I've tried. If they put me to running you all down then that's what I'd have to do. It would be my job and I'd do it to the best of my ability." She looked up at Blake, stating a simple fact without boasting. "And I would do it too. I would succeed."

"It appears to me," Avon put in dryly, as he re-entered the flight deck from his brief sojourn in the Liberator's surgical unit, "that in that case we would be wise to kill you now while we have the opportunity. It would certainly save us a lot of grief later on."

Her face lost a little of its colour and she stared back at him. All the others directed a torrent of disagreement and abuse at Avon but Lyria's voice was sharp over their babble.

"He's right." She let out a deep breath. "So which one of you is going to do it?"

"Don't be ridiculous, Lyria." Blake stood up. "We have no intention whatsoever of simply murdering you." He gave Avon a cold look. "We have no intention of harming you at all. We'll set you back down on Baldavis and that will be an end to it."

"I hope so. I certainly hope so." She stood up. "I disagree with your aims, although from what I've seen of your methods I'm full of admiration." She gave Vila a small, sad smile. "I hope - we will never meet again. It will be better that way"
Gan stood up.

"If Vila goes down with Lyria, I'll bring him and the extra bracelet back up." He half smiled. "I don't think leaving you with a sample of our teleport bracelets would be a good idea at all, Lyria."

Blake held out his hand and she took it.

"Goodbye, Blake. Under the circumstances, you'll understand that I can't say good luck." He smiled.

"Goodbye, Lyria. And thank you for your help."

/Look after yourself, Lyria. It's been rather nice knowing you./ Cally watched the three of them leave the flight deck and turned to Avon, who had stood silent during the goodbyes. "You would not really have killed her?"

He shrugged.
"What do you think?"

"I prefer to think, Avon, that you are still more human than I." He grinned wryly.

Vila took the bracelet from Lyria's wrist and then touched her shoulder gently.

"G'bye then, Lyria. Ah, thanks for your help."

She nodded slightly.
"I'm - glad - that it wasn't Blake and the rest of you responsible for all those attacks."

"We're not like that."

"No." There was a note of bitterness in her voice. "You only strike at the Federation."

He let his hand drop.
"You can bring me up now, Gan. Goodbye, Lyria."

She blinked as he wavered and disappeared, then walked over to slump tiredly in the chair he had sat in earlier. She bit at her finger angrily to stop the tears from coming.

Never be serious, she told herself. Never. Never.

And that was the maxim she had always lived by. Nothing was so bad it couldn't be laughed at. Lyria sat for a long time, then rose and fetched a bottle of the chilled wine. She filled a glass and raised it in a silent toast.

"To you, Vila," she murmured quietly. "I'll drink this and then maybe I'll forget that I just said goodbye to someone I might have felt serious about." She drained the glass and stared at it. "And then tomorrow I'll be my normal flippant self. And for both our sakes I'll hope we never meet again."

Still, it had been fun...