Chapter One
"Move."
Vila gave Avon a grudging look and reluctantly shifted his legs from the chair. Too slow, Avon helped him along by pushing his feet onto the floor.
"All right," Vila grumbled, as his drink slopped from his glass onto his lap. "What's the rush?"
Avon made a point of ignoring him, instead concentrating on some minor fault with the detector shield.
Not had Vila had been expecting a reply. The consensus aboard the Liberator was that there was definitely something wrong with Avon. It did not make for the easiest of atmospheres.
Like living with a black cloud, as Vila had mentioned to anyone who had time to listen, forever waiting for a thunderstorm to erupt. The only surprise was that it never came. Instead, Avon had effectively removed himself from contact with the rest of the crew and had buried himself in the heart of the Liberator's deepest workings. When he did appear, conversation was kept to a minimum. Any attempt to question him was met with a curt remark or biting comment, which made leaving him alone the preferred option.
Which suited Vila – or so he had thought at first. Several days spared Avon's usual hostility had seemed like a cause for celebration. Then he had found himself starting to miss it. Avon's sarcasm he could handle. Avon's silence he could not.
Now, with Avon putting in one of his rare appearances on the flight deck, Vila let his natural curiosity get the better of him. That, and the several glasses he had already downed, made him smile indulgently and idly wave his half-empty glass in Avon's general direction. Vila noted the contempt that registered in his reluctant companion's dark eyes. It was strangely reassuring that their relationship, or what there was of it, had not changed.
"Now, if I had to guess," Vila went on, "you look like a man with a problem."
On reflection, it could have been a happier choice of words. Avon looked up sharply from the console's array of blinking lights and fixed him with a stare that would have made a more sober man concerned for his well being.
"A drink problem, I mean," Vila went on quickly. "You haven't got one."
Avon turned back to what he was doing. "Nor do I need one," he said.
"Course you do," Vila slurred into his glass. "Everyone does. Here, Avon, have a drink. Put your feet up, let your hair down, like a normal person."
"And what would you know about the behaviour of 'normal' people?"
"Only what I've read." Vila grinned up at him. "Anyway, what's wrong with me? I'm as good as the next man."
As it happened, the next man happened to be Blake. Avon caught the sound of footsteps before Vila, and what should have been a rapid exit was stymied when Jenna and Blake appeared, effectively blocking his escape route. If either had been surprised to find him on the flight deck, liberated from his self-imposed exile, they did a good job at concealing it.
Blake gave Avon nothing more than a cursory glance and stepped round him without comment. Only when Avon started up the steps did he address him.
"Now you are here, I'd prefer you stay," Blake said. "I need to discuss the arrangements for Mallory. His men will be here in thirty minutes."
Avon continued on his way without a backward glance. "You don't need me for that."
"All the same," Blake said, louder, more insistent this time. "This concerns everyone on the ship."
"Run your rebellion your own way, Blake. I'm busy."
A sidestep to avoid Cally coming in the other direction and Avon was gone. Vila caught himself breathing a sigh of relief that another storm had passed without incident.
"Can't you do something about him, Blake?" he muttered. "He's making me nervous. I keep waiting for the Liberator to explode with all his tinkering."
"Does anyone know what he's doing?" asked Jenna. "He's been down there for days."
"I reckon he's got one of his lady-friends keeping him company." Vila glanced up and saw Jenna's unimpressed expression. "Or a computer," he added hurriedly. "He's probably building a replica of himself so he's got someone to keep telling him how wonderful he is."
"Now that I can believe," said Jenna.
"It's more than that," said Cally. "He's worried about something. A decision to make, I think."
"Avon told you?"
Cally shook her head. "No," she said hesitantly. "It's the impression I get from him. He's trying to distract himself. You hadn't noticed?"
"I hadn't really given it any thought," said Jenna dismissively. "Now, what about Mallory?"
"We're on course to meet the shuttle as planned," said Blake. "They have requested to bring it into the hold. That way, after they make the exchange, we can take them back to their base on Hagona. They don't have the range to make the return journey on their own. Can you handle it, Jenna?"
She raised an eyebrow. "I know what I'm doing. Do they?"
"That was my concern. I wanted Avon to stand by, in case they run into difficulties. I'd better go and find him."
"Rather you than me," said Jenna, settling herself at the main pilot's station. "Worried or not, Avon isn't exactly the best company at the moment."
"I can get him back up here," Vila offered.
"I doubt he will respond to you, Vila."
"I don't mean the communicator." Vila put down his glass and pulled down the hatch on the side of the detector shield unit. He reached in and pulled a wire free. A light began to blink on the main array. "Works every time."
"Vila!" Blake said with alarm. "We're meant to be avoiding detection, not inviting it."
"But it's only a secondary system," Vila said. "You'll see. Whenever his precious gadget develops a fault, Avon comes running."
"Better not let him catch you doing that," said Jenna.
He grinned back at her. "I won't tell if you don't."
Vila reached for his glass, only for Blake to move it to the other side of the table, out of his reach.
"I need you to stay alert, Vila. Mallory's people have a reputation."
"So do we. Who is he anyway?"
"They call him the 'Hammer of Hagona'," Blake explained, sitting down opposite him. "The planet is rich in carbon-based minerals, diamonds especially. Profit for a few at the expense of the miners. Poor working conditions, little reward, deaths that went unreported – that was until Mallory led the miners in open revolt. Since then, he's led uprisings on a dozen worlds in Sector Five."
"At considerable cost," Jenna remarked. "Mallory is ruthless, Blake. He's the reason the old smuggling routes broke down in that sector. He thought nothing of robbing any ship that came close and killing the crews."
Blake acknowledged her point with a nod. "I'm not saying I'm comfortable with his methods. There's been talk of torture and summary executions of anyone even suspected of treachery. He doesn't usually take prisoners."
"Except for now," said Cally.
"The situation is different," Blake said. "Mallory was captured by the Federation some time ago. His people want him back."
"Nice of them," said Vila.
"It's more than that. He has something of a cult-like status amongst his followers. Their devotion borders on the fanatical."
"Not much chance of that around here," said Jenna in good humour.
Blake caught her eye and returned the smile. "I'll take what I can get. Speaking of which, where is Avon? Your plan doesn't seem to be working, Vila."
"I'm expecting him any moment now," Vila replied. "In fact, in 3... 2... 1." He nodded to the stairs. "See, told you so."
Right on cue, Avon appeared from the direction of the corridor. Without a word, he strode straight to the detector shield unit and stared down at the single blinking light, betraying the fault within. Then, pulling down the hatch, he delved inside. A moment later, the light was stilled.
He was up on his feet and turning to leave, but Blake had beaten him to it.
"Now you're here, you can stay," said he, standing in Avon's way.
"I can," Avon returned coldly, "but I won't."
Blake put his hand out, close enough to bring Avon up short without touching him. "Are you still a member of this crew? We don't have room for passengers."
"Strange," Avon shot back. "I thought that's exactly what we were doing with Mallory's thugs."
"I'm not asking you to take part in this if you have objections, but you need to hear the arrangements. Now stay. I won't ask again."
Not a request, more of a statement. Stalemate, with neither side prepared to back down. The longer it went on, Vila caught himself wincing as the tension grew on the flight deck. Glancing across at Cally, he saw the same uncertainty in her eyes. He was used to Blake and Avon pawing the ground on regular occasions, but this felt different, as though something was about to happen they would all regret.
"All right," said Avon finally. "But I'm telling you, I don't like it."
"Noted."
Vila hurriedly shifted out of the way as Avon grudgingly took a seat on the couch beside him. Close enough for surreptitious observation, Vila glanced at him, wondering why he had not put up more resistance, given his recent behaviour. Either he really was preoccupied about something or he was losing his edge. Space fatigue, he eventually decided. It got to everybody in the end.
"When they arrive," Blake continued, "they will have a prisoner with them, a Councillor Juhel Aphon from the ruling body of Ysoria."
"Ysoria?" said Vila. "Isn't that a Federation stronghold for retired officials? It's a paradise, so I've heard. Golden beaches, warm temperatures, blue skies all day – the sort of place we never get to visit. What have they got to revolt about?"
"Not the residents, Vila, the workforce keeping this paradise pristine," Blake explained. "They had cause for complaint. They were treated little better than slaves. Mallory's second-in-command led the uprising. Unlike his fellow councillors, Aphon didn't leave the planet in time before the rebels took control."
"And now they want to swap him for Mallory," said Cally. "He must be important."
"Or Mallory no longer poses a threat, whatever is left of him," said Avon. "He has been a prisoner of the Federation for some time. They would not wasted any opportunity to interrogate him. Thoroughly. What else they may have done to him, I shall leave to your imagination."
"You've got an opinion now, have you?" said Vila. "I thought you weren't interested."
"You mistake interest for an observation," Avon replied. "The Federation could be gambling that an incapacitated or compromised Mallory would end the rebellions in the Fifth Sector. Without an effective leader, resistance will crumble."
Blake nodded. "But sometimes a figurehead is enough."
Avon stared at him, a faint light of amusement in his eyes. "That's probably what they said about us."
"I'm not forming an alliance with them," Blake shot back. "Helping them works in our favour. Whilst Mallory keeps the Federation occupied in Sector Five, the rest of the Federated worlds stand a chance at breaking free."
"A marriage of convenience then," said Avon. "Make it a short one."
"Blake, shuttle approaching," said Jenna.
Vila turned to look at the image of a small spacecraft of antiquated design that Zen had brought up on the main viewscreen. A flickering red glow from a nearby nebula lit its scarred and pitted sides. Several of the running lights were out and the rear engines were leeching an iridescent trail of vapour.
"They don't look all that threatening to me," said Vila.
"Famous last words of the gullible and deluded," Avon remarked.
"There's only so far I'm prepared to go," Blake said. "They can stay in the hold until we reach the rendezvous point for the exchange. There's no reason for them to have access to the rest of the ship."
"Sounds like a good idea to me," said Jenna. "The less they know about the Liberator, the better."
Blake started for the steps. "Jenna, signal them and commence docking procedure. Avon, assist her if necessary. Cally, Vila, you're with me."
"Am I?" said Vila miserably.
"Yes, I want a show of force for our guests. Come on, Vila."
"Depressing to think that he's the best we've got," said Avon as Vila headed after the departing pair. "Let's hope they are easily impressed."
"Knowing Mallory, I doubt it," Jenna replied. "All right, Zen, lock the inner hatches, positive pressure. If they're coming, let's get them on board."
What could possibly go wrong? Well... onwards to Chapter Two!
