ISIS
"Damn you Orac you will co-operate with me!" Servalan crossed the flight deck of the Federation battle cruiser with impatient strides.
"Co-operation is dependent upon reciprocation," stated Orac blandly.
"Communication from battle fleet command," announced the ship's intelligence officer, "I have Commander Carne on line."
A furious Servalan ripped out Orac's activator key and clasped it tightly in her fist. She had wasted enough time on Orac.
"Put the Commander on visual," she barked.
The rakishly handsome image of Supreme Commander Jonas Carne appeared on the ship's main screen. Servalan studied the young commander's magnified face. He was an attractive man and an accomplished officer, but he was ambitious and therefore not to be trusted.
"What have you to report Carne," she snapped.
"Commissioner, I bring you greetings from the fleet. The rebellion has been crushed. The planet Tryston is once again in our hands."
"You mean in the hands of the Federation," Servalan corrected him.
"Of course Commissioner," Carne replied evenly.
"Do you have the rendezvous co-ordinates?"
"Yes commissioner."
"Good. We will convene in precisely six point two hours. Understood Commander?"
"Perfectly Commissioner."
"That is all," she said dismissing him. "Alana, code thirteen transmission. I want visual contact with Cirtees control."
The tall intelligence officer keyed in the scrambled code and seconds later a bullet shaped head appeared on the ship's monitor.
"Major Stone," purred Servalan addressing the image, "progress report."
"Surgery is complete Madam," replied Stone obediently, "the subject is now in recovery mode."
"And what of Doctor Scar, has she been co-operative?"
"Yes Madam though she insists on seeing her Father."
"Never mind that," snapped Servalan, "prepare for my arrival. I wish to inspect the patient myself."
"Very well Madam."
As Stone's screen image was replaced by a panorama of stars Servalan considered her future. In less than twenty-four hours the Federation Presidency would once again be in her hands. Her election was a mere formality. With the full force of the Federation battle fleet as her escort, there would be no argument. President Sleer would be the most powerful individual in the known universe. But first there was just time to pay a visit to an old enemy.
"Set course for Cirtees," she commanded, "speed standard by seven."
….
Aboard the flagship of the Federation Star Fleet, Supreme Commander Jonas Carne kept his appointment with destiny. Carne entered the operations room and took up his place at the head of the oval table. There were armed guards posted inside and outside of the chamber.
"Gentleman," he began, "thank you for coming. I apologise for calling this meeting at such short notice but I believe we have little time in which to act."
The assembly of battle fleet commanders were silent. Carne had their full attention.
"I believe the Federation is in great danger. The echo of rebellion reverberates throughout the universe and our resources are stretched to breaking point."
Carne paused and cast his eyes around the room. The assembly was still.
"You will be aware," he continued, "that since Commissioner Sleer was appointed to "co-ordinate" with the fleet, our casualties have doubled. There isn't one among you who has not witnessed the suicidal sacrifice of our finest troops. Using the fleet and her supporters in the High Council, Commissioner Sleer plans to seize the Federation Presidency. It is my belief that president Sleer would spell disaster for all of us."
The group broke out into an agitated murmuring. Undaunted, Carne continued.
"As an officer who has sworn undying allegiance to the Federation, I believe it is our duty to stop her before the Federation collapses in ruins!"
The mumbling subsided into stunned silence. Commander Stewart, a veteran of countless campaigns got to his feet.
"Are you insane Carne? We could all be executed for simply being in this room. I'll hear no more!"
As Stewart marched towards the door carne signalled one of the guards. A short blast from the guard's handgun and Stewart's body fell lifeless to the ground.
Carne rose to his feet and leaned across the table, absently resting his weight on the whites of his knuckles.
"Comrades, I am asking you for your loyalty and for your trust. We all know that Sleer is a butcher, but I have no evidence that proves, conclusively that she is also guilty of treason. Now is not the hour of the faint hearted. We must act swiftly and we must act like soldiers."
One by one the officers pledged him their allegiance. Carne was on his way.
…
Escorted by ex-federation Major Ike Stone, Servalan entered the laboratory.
"Well?" she demanded.
Doctor Tessa Scar stared coldly at her tormentor.
By the time she was fifteen years of age the young genius had become the greatest brain surgeon in the known universe. Two years later she was appointed to the Federation Institute of Cybernetics as head of research. Now she was incarcerated on the planet Cirtees and working exclusively for Commissioner Sleer.
"I demand to see my Father," she cried, "where is he? What have you done with him?"
"My dear Doctor," soothed Servalan, "your Father is perfectly safe believe me. Simply do as I ask and you will see him very soon I promise. Now, what of our patient?"
"He will be regaining consciousness any time now," replied the young Doctor sulkily. "The implant is in place. It was a simple operation."
"Here is the activator Madam," said Stone handing Servalan the small remote control unit.
"Range?" asked Servalan.
"Up to two kilometres but the homing beacon is good for a million spacials," answered Stone.
"Excellent," purred Servalan, "now Doctor if you would be so kind as to lead the way I think it's time I paid our friend a social call. Stone you will continue to monitor transmissions. If there is any intelligence from the fleet I wish to know at once. Do you understand?"
"Yes Madam, perfectly Madam," replied Stone standing to attention.
…
Avon struggled to open his eyes. He could hear voices, but then perhaps it was just another dream. He felt nauseous and there was a terrible throbbing pain inside his head. Sleep beckoned him once again; perhaps sleep would cure the pain. Unconsciously he identified the memory image, which passed through his mind and the shock of the recollection sent a violent spasm through the length of his body. Blake! He had killed Blake!
Servalan stared down at the body, which was strapped tightly to the surgical recliner, an amused smile playing at the corners of her mouth.
"Wake him and leave us," she ordered.
Doctor Scar jabbed a hypodermic into the body's arm and shot Servalan a look of cold hostility.
"Do not worry yourself so Doctor, I reward those who reward me. Soon I will be President of the Federation and then I will appoint you and your Father to my personal staff. You have nothing to fear. Now leave us."
Avon was jolted by a sudden clarity and a familiar voice sounding in his ears.
"Avon, Avon," purred Servalan, "how lovely to see you again. I do hope your ordeal hasn't damaged you in any way."
"Servalan," hissed Avon between clenched teeth.
"No, no Avon it's Commiss – or rather it's President Sleer now. My election is a matter of hours away and a mere formality."
"Election?" queried Avon, "who would be insane enough to vote for you?"
Servalan depressed a button on the remote, sending a wave of pain crashing through Avon's head. Avon gasped in agony.
"Tut tut Avon, still not cured of your insolence I see."
"There is no cure for what you're suffering from," countered Avon.
Another bolt of pain, this time longer than the last.
"Really Avon masochism hardly suits you. You see Avon there has been, hoe shall I put it, a slight adjustment made to your cerebrum. Nothing so crude as an implant, but rather something entirely new. Deposited inside your cerebellum is a tiny microscopic receiver tuned into this activator." Servalan waved the remote casually in front of him.
"And this Avon," she continued still waving the remote, "gives me power of life and death over you. One touch of this button," she said pointing to a black marker on the remote, "and you will cease to exist. Your brain literally explodes."
"It all sounds just like another crude implant to me," he answered, "and in any case what makes you think I'm the slightest bit interested?"
"Really Avon! Have you lost your will to survive? It's Blake isn't it?"
Avon recoiled once more at the memory as Servalan leaned to within an inch of his face.
"You should have seen the look on your face Avon," she taunted, "it was priceless."
Blake was a fool and I'm not sorry I killed him he deserved to die."
"Oh quite," rejoined Servalan, "and the others?"
"Others?" he inquired, "what others?"
Servalan leaned back and perched herself on the edge of the recliner.
"Very well Avon, let's get down to business. Orac."
"Don't tell me, you can't tolerate its incurable insolence."
"Careful Avon," she warned, her finger once more poised over the remote control. "Orac can supply me with certain information, only its being difficult."
"Maybe you should try torture, I'm told it's very persuasive."
Servalan sent another pain spasm rushing through his brain and this time he couldn't suppress a cry of agony.
"Really Avon, I seem to remember your wit had a finer edge."
"I wish I could be equally disappointed," he gasped, "but you are as big a bore as ever."
Servalan jumped up in a rage her finger ready to depress the black button.
"Temper, temper," mocked Avon.
Servalan's fury subsided and her features relaxed into a beaming smile. She bent down close to him and kissed him gently on the lips.
"You know Avon we could be such a team you and I."
"That's what I like about you Servalan, you're an incurable romantic."
Servalan moved to the door.
"Think it over. Remember its your life or death."
"Just one question."
"Well?"
"Why am I still alive?"
"Really Avon, I can't imagine a universe without you. After all, you're the only fun I have left."
…..
Servalan returned to the flight deck of her ship. She was in a buoyant mood; everything was going according to plan.
"Prepare for departure," she ordered, "we must rejoin the fleet."
"Commissioner, message from the fleet," announced Alana, "priority code thirteen."
"Visual."
A furtive face appeared on screen. It was Hanson, Commander Carne's first officer and Servalan's personal spy.
"What is it Hanson?"
Commissioner, you are in great danger there's been a mutiny…."
There was an anguished cry and the image was lost.
"Re-establish contact," barked Servalan
"I'm sorry Madam, the signals gone."
Servalan turned to Orac and inserted the activator key. "Orac what is the current position of the Federation battle fleet?"
"The fleet has departed from the Delius star system and is now approaching sector four. Speed standard by eight."
"Destination?"
"Destination Earth."
"This is mutiny!" screamed an enraged Servalan, "get me commander Carne at once!"
"There's no response Madam, nothing."
"The entire fleet is now operating under a communications black out," interjected Orac, "contact is not possible."
"Damn them!" screamed Servalan, "they will pay for this. Orac, how soon before the fleet reaches Earth?"
"At maintenance of current speed the fleet will attain orbit in precisely seven point six hours. And to answer your next question, this ship would reach the same orbit in precisely eight point one hours providing departure is immediate."
Servalan regained her composure, but the options were diminishing.
"You may also be interested to learn," announced Orac, "that three pursuit ships have been launched from the fleet."
"What!" shouted Servalan, "why didn't you… never mind. What are their orders?"
"Their orders are to sweep this area, locate Commissioner Sleer and place her under arrest."
"On what charge?"
"On a charge of treason."
"Set course for Alexis twelve, maximum speed," commanded Servalan, "Alana, urgent message to Major Stone. He's to bring the patient on board and then evacuate his men to checkpoint three. Tell him to remain there and await my orders – and tell him to make sure he takes the Doctor with him."
….
In the private quarters of the first officer two uniformed figures stood over Hanson's bloodied corpse.
"Filthy spy," exclaimed Carne.
"Don't worry Commander," assured Lieutenant Stark, "the pursuits will find her."
"Don't be too sure," growled Carne, she's been warned and remember she had Orac. No, she'll make a run for it, but we'll catch up with her, you can count on that. Is the blackout in force?"
"Yes Sir. May I speak Sir?" the young Lieutenant fidgeted nervously.
"What's on your mind Lieutenant?"
"The High Council Sir. What proof do we have of the Commissioner's guilt? They'll demand an explanation."
"Don't concern yourself Stark. We know that she has confiscated Orac for her personal use. And we also know that she is running her own private army of mercenaries, all of them outlaws formerly under the command of the renegade Travis. She must be paying them in Federation Credits. And what of the disappearance of the two scientists? It's Sleer's work, I'd stake my life on it."
"She has some very powerful friends Sir."
"But we Lieutenant have the fleet, and there is nothing more powerful than that."
….…
Avon was ushered onto the flight deck as Servalan addressed an image on the ships monitor.
"Professor Scar," intoned Servalan, "I need the ship ahead of schedule. Give me a progress report."
The pock marked visage of the silver haired scientist blinked back at her. "I'm happy to report Commissioner that we are ahead of your schedule. Your in-flight computer is now fully operational. There are only a few minor adjustments to be made to the stardrive system and the ship will be ready for testing."
"And the teleport?"
"Unfortunately I am unable to decipher fully your last issue of specifications, perhaps if you bring Orac…"
"And that's where I come in," interrupted Avon.
"Prepare for our arrival Scar. We will be with you in precisely nine point three hours and I want to see that ship tested. Over and Out." Servalan turned her attention to her guest. "Avon how well you are looking."
"Are these really necessary," he indicated the cuffs that bound his wrists.
Servalan clicked her fingers and at once a guard stepped forward and removed the offending chains.
"Well you have been a busy megalomaniac haven't you?" said Avon conversationally.
Servalan brandished the remote control unit as instantaneously Avon sagged to his knees, his hands uselessly clamped about his throbbing head.
"Just a reminder Avon," purred Servalan, "don't allow your tongue to exercise such liberal license."
"So," gasped Avon struggling to his feet, "you need teleport and you think I can persuade Orac to give it to you."
"Precisely. You see Avon; I have recruited the Federation's finest minds to construct the fastest most powerful ship in the Universe. I've named her Isis and she will be even more powerful than the Liberator."
"Isis, Mother of the God of War," remarked Avon.
"Appropriate don't you think?"
"So you've installed a Photonic drive, no doubt cannibalised from the wreckage of Scorpio and you've had Professor Scar design you an advanced flight computer. Scar of course was once a pupil of Ensor, but even he can't give you teleport. But tell me, do your Federation masters know about this exclusive project or are they just paying for it?"
"Very good Avon, but this is my own personal business. Alexis twelve is outside Federation borders, it's no concern of theirs."
"And just how did you blackmail Scar into working for you?"
"Blackmail? I'm surprised at you Avon. I've always found bribery much more seductive."
"Just one other thing that puzzles me. Why are you running to Alexis now? I thought you had an election to attend to."
Servalan turned away to disguise her anguish. "There's been a slight change of plan."
"Oh really, don't tell me. You've been caught with your fingers in the till."
Servalan waved the remote control furiously. "I warn you Avon don't provoke me."
"And what if I were to inform your crew Servalan the nature of your true identity?"
Servalan chuckled mirthlessly. "Avon you fool. These," she said gesturing at the female crew on the flight deck, "are mark seven androids custom built by Scar's brat to my personal specifications. Their loyalty is without question."
….
The tactical deployment of the Imperial Federation Star Fleet was unmistakeably hostile. Beneath it the planet Earth was encircled.
"Orbit locked in Commander," declared the pilot.
Carne paced the flight deck purposefully. "What news from our pursuit ships?"
"No trace of the suspect Commander. The complex discovered on Cirtees has been abandoned."
"Very well. Tell them to remain on Cirtees and await my orders."
"Yes Sir."
"Now, open communication channels." Instantly a message came through.
"Councillor Drummond Commander, urgent message."
"Put him on."
Drummond's flabby countenance engulfed the screen and he was clearly vexed. "What is the meaning of this Carne? Where is Commissioner Sleer?"
"Councillor," Carne said evenly, "I bring you greetings from the fleet."
"You may dispense with the courtesies Commander, explain yourself!"
"Be patient Councillor and hear me out."
"Well?"
"I have ordered the arrest of Commissioner Sleer on charges of treason. A full transcript of the evidence is on its way down to you now. I think you will find everything is in order."
"Have you gone completely mad Carne? I order you in the name of the High Council to surrender your command and submit yourself to court martial proceedings. You will obey at once."
"I think not Councillor. You see I am in control of the fleet and its is I who am giving the orders."
"You fool. You'll never get away with this."
"Oh I don't see why not," said Carne smoothly. "Now since you are determined to be so unreasonable I am ordering you and the rest of the High Council to place yourselves under immediate arrest. You will do as I say or I will give orders to open fire. Now, we don't want any unnecessary destruction do we? The military will be taking charge from here on. Do I make myself clear?"
"You murderous traitor," spat Drummond, "I'll see you crucified for this."
Carne laughed derisively. "You Councillor Drummond won't be alive to see anything much longer."
…..
The Federation's battle cruiser landed gently in the shadows of the twelve moons of Alexis. Servalan marched down the network of tunnels and into the flight control centre. "Professor Scar, is Isis ready for testing?"
"It is Commissioner, but tell me what news of my daughter?"
"What happened to your preference of bribery?" asked Avon entering the room with four armed guards in his wake.
"Only as a first resort Avon," Servalan answered smoothly. "Do not concern yourself Scar, your offspring is unharmed and quite safe. This by the way is Avon, he's going to help us with the teleport, aren't you Avon?" Servalan beamed at her captive waving the remote control unit expansively.
"It would seem like you Professor my options are limited."
"If you would like to transfer your crew to the ship we can begin the test Commissioner."
Servalan gave the orders. "You must stay and watch this Avon, it promises to be quite spectacular."
The sound of retro blasters filled the room as the image on the screen exploded into the atmosphere. "Pilot to base," droned the android Captain, "orbit achieved."
"Take her out of orbit," instructed Servalan, "and give her maximum thrust."
As the ship accelerated it vanished from the screen, leaving its wake only an elusive incandescent blur.
"Recorded speed," proclaimed the Professor, "standard by fifteen point three."
"Astonishing," crooned Servalan, "with this ship under my command there will be no more mutinies, not ever."
"Commissioner, when may I see my daughter?" pleaded Scar.
"Your work here is incomplete Professor. The teleport remember? I will return with your wretched daughter as soon as I have taken care of Commander Carne."
"What's the matter Servalan," teased Avon, "have you been mislead by your own opinion poll?"
Servalan inserted Orac's activator key. "Orac tell Avon the current political situation on the planet Earth."
"This information has already been imparted. Do not continue to waste my valuable time."
"Come on Orac," coaxed Avon, "it's me you talking to remember?"
"Very well Avon. The planet Earth is now under martial law. There has been a full military takeover. Commander Jonas Carne has proclaimed himself the Federation Supreme Emperor. All members of the High Council have been executed."
"And presumably," remarked Avon, "Commissioner Sleer is the top of the new regimes wanted list."
"That is so," confirmed Orac.
Servalan removed the key. "So you see Avon, I am now an outlaw just like you, only unlike you I still have some powerful aces to play with."
"And as always you'll be dealing them from the bottom of the deck," Avon quipped.
"Careful Avon," warned Servalan, "you're becoming an irritant. Professor, Avon will be staying here with you. Professor are you paying attention?"
"Yes, yes of course Commissioner, I…"
"Don not concern yourself with politics Professor," warned Servalan reading his mind, "concentrate on your work and remember the lovely Tessa is entirely in my hands."
"As you wish Commissioner."
"You will detain Avon in the security cell. Do not let him out until I return and don't make the mistake of trusting him," she said turning to Avon and offering him a seductive smile, "he's a very dangerous man. Instruct the crew to remain on Isis and run a full systems check. I depart for Earth in one hour."
As Servalan strode from the room, Scar gave Avon a thoughtful look. "You heard the Commissioner," he snapped at the guards, "lock him up."
Avon stared ruefully at the sealed door of the cell. There was only one man capable of breaking him out, but Villa along with Blake and the others were dead. Abruptly the door slid open and Professor Scar stepped inside the compartment. "Avon I need your help."
Avon rolled his eyes in the direction of the security camera.
"Oh don't worry about that," declared Scar, "it's temporarily out of action."
"Alright Scar," began Avon briskly, "what's the deal?"
"My daughter Tessa. If I help you to escape you must promise to save her."
"Damsels in distress are not exactly my forte Scar."
"Come on Avon we don't have much time. Have you had a better offer?"
"Now that you mention it, no. What's your plan?"
"Go to the end of the corridor and take the elevator. It will take you directly to the launching bay. Here, you will need this to access the elevator car." Avon took the electronic security pass and slipped it inside his boot. "All you have to do is board Isis and make your escape."
"Simple, really I don't know why I didn't think of it myself."
"It will work, trust me Avon."
"What about the crew?"
"Don't worry about the crew, I will arrange for the crew to be evacuated."
"Will the flight computer obey my voice?"
"Oh yes I almost forgot, use the code word Asset. Enough questions, will you do it?"
"Just two more questions. Why take such a risk with your own life?"
"It's all over for me Avon, but you can save Tessa."
"Save her from what? What makes you think Ser- Sleer is about to dispense with your family's services?"
"Sleer is finished, and she'll take us down with her."
"Finished?"
"Isis – it has no weapons. I destroyed the weapons system."
"Why?"
"Avon there's no time. I still have work to do."
"Tell me."
"Isis was fitted with Laserstrike the most destructive weapons system in history. Ever heard of a planet called Karabar?"
"Yes."
"Well you can erase it from your memory. We tested Laserstrike on it a month ago. The planet was obliterated. Three million inhabitants." Scar's face turned pale and he was suddenly unsteady on his feet.
"Scar!" hissed Avon, "snap out of it!"
The Professor recovered himself. "I've fitted the ship with a dummy system. They'll never suspect and as to your last question Avon I know you will keep your half of the bargain. You would be wise to have that implant removed."
"And your daughter is the only one who can do it."
"Goodbye Avon. Tell Tessa – " Scar darted out of the cell, leaving the sentence unfinished.
….
Servalan reclined on the divan in her private quarters. Carne may have seized for now she reflected, but the game was only just beginning. The decision to "recruit" the Scars was a masterstroke. It was a calculated risk but one that was about to bear dividends. With Isis and Laserstrike at her command there would be no limit to her power. Lazily she flicked through the channels on the security system, launching bay, flight deck, flight control, security cell – nothing!
Servalan jumped up in alarm. "Security," she rasped into the videocam, "report visual malfunction."
An anxious looking security sergeant appeared on screen. "My apologies Madam, we do have a slight fault but the problem is being attended to and…"
"You moron why wasn't I informed? Send a guard down to the security cell at once."
"Madam," announced the relieved sergeant, "the fault has just been corrected, if you would like to try – "
Servalan switched back to the cell, it was empty. "You idiot," she screamed, "I'll have your head for this! Find him and activate the – "
The harsh electronic clamour of the central alarm system interrupted her. "What's going on?" she demanded.
"There's been a radiation leak on Isis Madam, the crew are evacuating."
"It's a trick you cretin! Order the crew to remain at their posts, and find the prisoner at once!"
Moving stealthily down the corridor Avon reached the elevator shaft, inserted the pass key into the control panel and boarded the car. Avon stiffened as the deafening sound of the central alarm rang out through the complex.
"I trust this is all part of your plan Scar," he said softly to himself.
The car completed its ascent and as the automatic door parted the guard stepped inside and collided with the passenger. Avon was the first to react. Catching the guard off balance Avon threw him against the wall of the car and doubled him up with a vicious left knee to the groin. The excruciating pain lasted only an instant as Avon followed up with a murderous right-handed blow to the back of the neck. Avon snatched the neutron blaster from the corpse and scanned the scene ahead of him. Some thirty metres away the android crew of Isis were filing smartly down the exit ramp of the ship. With the last crew member safely off the vessel the ramp tilted slowly forwards. Avon made a dash for it as a posse of guards emerged from the tunnel adjacent to the ship. Avon fired randomly into the pack and downed one of them as the rest hit the ground and returned fire. With fire exploding about him Avon reached the ramp, threw himself on to it and was tumbled inside the ship.
Avon burst on to the deserted flight deck. The entire chamber was dominated by the ships flight computer, a large octagonal structure which throbbed continuously with energy pulsations.
"Flight computer," gasped a breathless Avon, "my name is Avon. The code word Asset is now operative, you will obey my commands."
"Affirmative Avon," replied the computer in a soft feminine tone. "My name is Electra."
"Immediate launch to orbital status."
"Confirmed Avon."
Servalan arrived at the flight control centre just in time to see Isis lifting off. "My ship!" wailed Servalan. "Imbeciles, I'm surrounded by imbeciles!" Servalan turned to see Professor Scar enter the room. "What do you know about this Scar? Where have you been?"
"Commissioner I – "
"I warned you what would happen if you double crossed me."
"But Commissioner I – "
Servalan produced a handgun from the pocket of her robe and fired without hesitation. Scar slumped forward from the impact of the blast and fell lifeless to the floor.
"Orbit achieved Avon."
"Thank you Electra."
"It's my pleasure Avon."
Avon smiled. He liked a courteous computer but there was something very disconcerting about this one. Something about the seductive voice. Then he realised what it was. It sounded remarkably like Servalan's.
"Electra get me Alexis base, visual."
"Certainly Avon."
"Avon!" Servalan winced as Avon's face lit the screen.
"Servalan, this time you lose I think."
"Avon," purred Servalan, "I do hope you're not going to be precipitous. Remember I still have this," she said brandishing the remote control unit.
"Nice try Servalan but I don't think your little toy has the range."
"Alright Avon but there's something else I forgot to mention. Your implant is equipped with a homing beacon. I can track you to anywhere in the cosmos."
"Well then I'll just have to obliterate Alexis and you with it the way you obliterated Karabar."
"My, my, Scar has been a busy little man."
"Goodbye Servalan."
"Avon wait! I still have Orac."
Avon pretended to hesitate. Dealing with Servalan was always a risky business but Orac was worth it. "Alright Servalan you give me Orac and I'll resist the temptation to exterminate you. Agreed?"
"Since you seem to be holding all the cards. But how do I know you'll keep your half of the bargain?"
"You don't. Now put Orac and Professor Scar on a shuttle and send them up."
"Professor Scar is how shall I put it, indisposed Avon."
"You mean he's dead. Never mind send Orac anyway."
"I'll have to send one of my crew to pilot the shuttle, unarmed of course."
"Alright Servalan but don't you do anything precipitous, remember what you did to Karabar."
Avon followed the progress of the shuttlecraft on the main screen. "Electra, prepare for docking of approaching vessel."
"Affirmative Avon. Docking will proceed in precisely two point two minutes."
"Alright. Now, what do we have in the way of defensive capabilities?"
"Isis is equipped with a combat restraint radiation force wall Avon."
"Good. Activate it the moment the shuttle docks and Electra, if we come under attack I want you to get us out of here fast."
"Destination Avon?"
"As far away from here as possible."
On the flight deck of the battle cruiser Servalan watched the shuttle approaching Isis. "Stand by," she called.
The tiny craft moved slowly between the enormous docking bay doors and disappeared from view. "Immediate launch," barked Servalan, "get this ship moving."
Avon concealed himself in the docking bay in time to see the gentle touch down of the shuttle.
"Stay where you are," he growled coming out into the open and pointing the gun at the Android who was disembarking from the craft. "Move so much as an eyelid and you're for the scrap heap. Now get Orac and bring it here."
The Droid recovered Orac from the back of the shuttle and marched briskly to where Avon was standing.
"Hold it!" called Avon when the Droid had covered two thirds of the distance. "Put it down, slowly."
Avon followed her movements with the gun as the Droid placed Orac carefully on the ground. But he failed to notice that as she straightened up she was holding Servalan's remote control device in the palm of her hand. The gun fell to the ground with a clatter as Avon sunk to his knees in agony. The Droid turned her attention to the communicator strapped to her wrist and simultaneously relaxed the pressure of her finger on the remote.
"Alana to Madam Commissioner, do you copy?"
Avon didn't need a second chance. Instantly he rolled himself over, grabbed the gun and fired. The blast tore a gaping hole in the side of the creature's head exposing a conglomeration of sizzling, smoking circuits. The Android dropped the remote, jerked violently in all directions and fell to the ground, where the body continued to convulse with electronic spasms.
"Alana do you copy," implored Servalan, "are you receiving me?"
"I have Isis on visual Madam," announced the ship's second officer.
"Damn you Avon," Servalan cursed as the beautiful ship, her ship filled the main screen.
"Isis is unprotected Madam," declared the gunnery officer, "shall we attack?"
"Unprotected? What do you mean unprotected?"
"The force wall is inoperative Madam."
Servalan could barely believe her luck. For a second she hesitated. She didn't want to destroy Isis but the risk was too great. It was kill or be killed. "Commence firing," she commanded, "give her everything we've got. Goodbye Avon."
Avon searched the smoking Droid and found Orac's activator key in the pocket of her tunic. The remote control unit which lay discarded on the ground was vaporised with a short blast of Avon's gun. Avon stooped to collect Orac and was abruptly thrown backwards as the ship rocked with a sudden violence. Struggling to stay on his feet Avon gathered Orac and stumbled forwards.
"Electra!" Avon cried crashing onto the flight deck, "get us out of here fast!"
Racked by a series of explosions the ship disintegrated in a blazing, phosphorescent flash of radiation, spitting white-hot debris into distant space with a furious velocity.
"We are clear of the fall-out zone Avon," stated Electra, "what is your command?"
"Damage report."
"Isis has sustained no damage Avon."
"And that is due more to luck than judgement. You told me this ship was equipped with a force wall. Well?"
"I'm sorry Avon, the force wall has mal-functioned."
"Cause?"
"Cause unknown Avon."
"Scar," Avon said to himself, "I hope that's all he forgot to mention. But then I should have checked it myself."
Avon turned to Orac and inserted the activator key. "Orac, what went on back there – analysis."
"Servalan's ship was destroyed. There were five successive explosions in all, each one separated by precisely five seconds."
"Scar!" exclaimed Avon, "that's what he meant when he said he still had work to do."
"The intensity of the initial explosion indicates that the explosive charges were connected to central weapons system."
"So Servalan squeezed the trigger and committed suicide. Survivors?"
"The odds against survival of any life forms on board are incalculable."
"Excuse me Avon," interjected Electra, "but my sensors indicated a small heat trace descending from the Federation craft four seconds before the final explosion."
"Be quiet!" snapped Orac, "it is not your place to contradict a superior system."
"Ah," said Avon, "and I was hoping that you two would become friends. Never mind, Electra set course for Cirtees speed standard by ten. I need a surgeon."
13