Blake's 7 - Liberators
The sequel to Blake's 7 - Survivors
Chapter 13
The girl ate, one eye on the door the whole time, watchful, ready to move if danger should threaten.
A man stood there, one of the burly, tough-looking men in black uniforms who had brought her here from the marketplace... His posture was relaxed, but she knew his hand never strayed far from the gun at his side. He was there to protect her, so she was told, but it was clear enough he was also there to stop her leaving.
Not that she could go anywhere...
Just as that crossed her mind, she felt the faint vibration in the room again, the only just detectable change in tempo of the ambient sound - The spaceship's engines had engaged, altering their course.
"You enjoying that...?" the man asked, unexpectedly, indicating the tray of processed nutrition chunks in front of her.
The girl shrugged.
"I heard you declined the finest cuisine her kitchen had to offer, then got stuck in when they gave you standard rations..." The man smiled, not unkindly. "Maybe we'll make a soldier of you."
"I don't want to be a soldier." The girl scratched her red-gold hair, irritated by the perfumed oil recently applied to it - The true colour had only been revealed after it had been washed and dressed for the first time since... No, actually, the first time in her memory.
"Why not...?" he inquired good-humouredly. "It's not the worst life-"
"-Soldiers die. I've seen it."
He looked a little perturbed by that, and seemed about to say something else, but then the doors swished open to admit the command suite's occupant, putting an end to their conversation. The guard stiffened to attention, and the girl stared at her meal as Commissioner entered and stood looking at her.
"Well...?" she asked the guard, though her eyes stayed on the girl.
"Nothing to report, Commissioner. Our guest is very well-behaved... now."
"Good."
Seeing her stand next to the guard, the girl realised that her initial impression of Commissioner as tall had been mistaken... Taller than her, yes, but for an adult Commissioner was small and slight, although her high heels raised her somewhat... It was her presence that was actually imposing.
"That will be all for now."
The guard nodded. "I'll be right outside."
The doors swished apart once more as he left, and Commissioner came to sit at the table. Aware she was being watched, the girl glanced up at her host briefly, and seemed to see something in the older woman's expression that said Why am I doing this...?
"How old are you...?" asked Commissioner with a tone that suggested only slight curiosity.
The girl shrugged, ate another morsel, and sipped from the accompanying beaker of liquid.
"You don't know...? Yes, I suppose that makes sense... You've been looking after yourself for some time, haven't you...? Do you know where you came from...?"
"I remember a place... It's gone now, that's what they told me."
"A lot of places are gone now... That's what I'm trying to stop."
"Why have you brought me here?" The girl made and maintained eye contact after asking the question.
"I think you must be eight or nine..." Commissioner speculated. "Certainly, your clothes sizes seem to suggest that... I'm having clothes made for you."
"Why?"
"Because if those ones ever have to be cleaned again, they'll fall apart... The dirt was all that was holding them together, I imagine." Commissioner smiled dazzlingly and rested her head on one hand, elbow on the table. She was capable of projecting warmth, but still there was something faintly cold and unsettlingly reptilian in her eyes.
"Thank you," the girl said, the words sounding strange. It was not a phrase she remembered ever having to use before, but she thought it was probably the expected response. She was wrong.
"Never thank me," said Commissioner, in a tone that held no anger but was nonetheless firm. "Never thank anyone, unless you have to. And with me, you never have to."
"All right."
"Why you're here...?" Commissioner paused, as if the answer eluded her. "Do you know where you are, or who I am...?"
"We're on a spaceship, in space. You're someone important, and you stopped me being sold."
"The auctions... Yes, I intend to put a stop to that one day... But matters were pressing, and I had a fleet to resupply... Yes, I have a fleet, not just a ship. A small fleet, far too small for what it has to achieve. What do you think of that?"
The girl shrugged again. "You're very important."
"I was once... Fortune has been fickle since then. And now..." Commissioner seemed to be peering far into the distance beyond the bulkhead, and a single worry line creased her low forehead. "Now, things could go either way, very suddenly indeed."
The girl wondered why all this was being discussed with her, and quickly realised - She was the only one on the ship any of it could be said to. The truth of why she had been brought here started to dawn, although it would be a long time before it became entirely clear.
A very long time.
Proxima II - 18 years later
"You," said Juni, staring up at the larger-than-life holographic form of Servalan. The same cropped hair, now almost entirely white... The face more lined, it seemed to her, and thinner, almost gaunt... But it had only been less than four months... Why-?
"Hello, darling girl..."
Juni's lips moved without producing words for several seconds, as she overcame the various emotions battling for supremacy within her. "Where are you...?" she said at last.
"That would take a while to explain, I'm afraid, and you don't have much time."
"You're safe...?" With him was the unspoken addendum.
Servalan smiled. "I wouldn't necessarily go that far... Avon sends his regards. We've... had some things to resolve, he and I... and I believe we have arrived at an understanding, now... Near the end. Nothing reconciles old enemies quite so much as a common one. Suffice to say, at this moment, I'm considerably safer than you are..."
"What do you mean?"
"My battles are almost over... And that's all right. I enjoyed them, for the most part... I faced the greatest crisis of my time, and I did what had to be done... Now, you must face the greatest crisis of yours... Do you understand...?"
"No," said Juni, only half taking it in. The phrase almost over was what had registered properly with her, and everything else was a distraction. Despite Darvin's certainty, Servalan's survival after the destruction of the Dome on Earth had seemed unlikely to her, and she had even come to accept her death... They were at war, people died... Important people sometimes. Time enough to deal with it all when peace came, if it ever did.
Now, for her to come back only to suggest the end really was close at hand... It was too much for Juni. Her throat tightened, and tears welled in her eyes.
"I say you, because you learned from me..." Servalan continued. "I know that when the time comes, and it will, you have what it takes." She spoke slowly and deliberately, to make sure the message was clear. "To do what must be done, as I did."
"I'm not like you," said Juni, the tears now on her cheeks, salt stinging the skin that still felt a little raw from the mud primitives' fire. "But I do-"
"-I hope you will learn to enjoy your battles," Servalan interrupted. "Then you truly will understand." She glanced away for a moment, then back. "There isn't much time... Coser's girl will need you soon... Blake will need you. As you need her... for now."
"Faal told me...!" Juni practically shouted that, sensing the exchange was coming to an end. "He told me what I am."
"I thought he might..." Servalan smiled faintly. "The deception always troubled him."
"He said he lied to you..." Juni continued. "He told you I was just a copy, a-"
"-You are what you have always been," Servalan interrupted again. "Darling girl..."
Her image vanished immediately, and Juni would never be certain if the brief look of regret that flashed across Servalan's face as she terminated the communication had been real or in her imagination. She continued to stare up at the empty space for a few moments before turning away.
The girl looked up as they passed under the high arched entrance into the bustling command deck of Commissioner's ship. Federation deck officers bustled to and fro, almost colliding with each other, as yelled reports filled the air. A respectful space was left for Commissioner - Sleer was the name she answered to, the girl had just discovered, but something told her that wasn't right - to reach her command dais and its luxuriously-cushioned chair.
Sleer was about to sit, apparently automatically, but stopped before doing so... She looked down at the girl, still staring around her in awe. "Sit down," she offered.
With a brief questioning look, the girl obeyed, shrewd enough to recognise a command even when it was phrased as an invitation. Sleer leaned on the chair's back.
"You know we are at war...?" When the girl nodded, Sleer asked another question. "You know who we are at war with...?"
"The aliens... They want to kill us. All of us."
"Yes," Sleer confirmed. "There's a glorious simplicity to it all which I almost find refreshing... They want to kill us, we have to kill them. But they have destroyed several key worlds, they have decimated our fleet, and they infiltrated the government with their spies, to the point where we have been forced to wipe out the government... Like cutting off an infected limb..." Not knowing, or possibly caring, how much of this was being taken in by the girl, she continued. "It seems everyone who was senior to me has been removed, and the existence of our entire race now depends on me..."
"Are you scared...?"
Surprised by the question, Sleer looked down at the girl's eyes, sincere and guileless, and it was a few seconds before she ventured an answer. "I am not afraid of command," she said quietly. "It has fallen to me before, and now it has done so again... And I will always be ready."
"Commissioner..." barked one of the officers. "The enemy is engaged..." The girl looked up as a holographic display formed in the air above them showing a pattern of stars, and soon saw the tiny specks that represented the multitude of ships ahead of them, and the flashes of light moving back and forth hazily - Ordnance, death on a grand scale, pounding away at both fleets.
"Status report," said Sleer.
"Unclear, Commissioner..." came the reply. "Reports are being disrupted. It may be we're too far away for clear reception."
"Move us closer."
"That would place us on the extreme end of some of the enemy's-" Seeing Sleer's expression, the man stopped. "Yes, Commissioner."
"We're about to go into battle," Sleer said to the girl. "A battle I'm not certain we can win... Are you scared?"
The girl shook her head.
"Why not...?" Sleer's voice was little more than a whisper now.
"Because you're not."
Sleer smiled as she reached down and activated a switch, and the girl decided that had been the right answer. "Attention, all personnel...!" Sleer projected into the intercom, and all on the command deck stiffened slightly as they listened. The girl imagined the same thing throughout the ship, hundreds of men and women all giving Sleer their rapt attention. "This is Com-"
Sleer stopped there for a moment, and the girl angled her head back, looking up at her, eyes wide - Sleer seemed to reach a swift decision before continuing.
"This is President Servalan of the Terran Federation, assuming personal command of the fleet...!" She looked down at the girl, and smiled again. The personnel on the flight deck might have glanced at each other, there might have been a few eyebrows raised, but no one protested... An open secret was merely a secret no longer.
"Awaiting orders, Madam President," said the officer, his face a carefully schooled professional mask.
"It begins again, darling girl..." said Servalan. "It begins."
Proxima II - War Room
Blake, Avral and Grant followed Lady Shilena and her guards into the spacious, high-ceilinged room and joined her at the large oval tactical console. None of the personnel there openly objected to their presence, however many curious glances were thrown their way.
Most eyes were on Lady Shilena as she swept around the console and stood at one end - The place of command. "Report, please," she said, and added, "Open a secure link to Proxima III."
"The Admiral is no longer there, Madam," said one of the War Room personnel in a clipped voice. "He is on his command ship, assembling to intercept the invaders."
"Good... A secure link to the flagship, please."
"At once." The relaying of orders, Blake observed, was done by a swift exchange in some form of sign language... Interesting. She stood back to allow one of the War Room staff access to the console, as the tactical display was activated and updated, and a three-dimensional representation of the Proxima system jolted into life in front of them.
"Impressive," breathed Avral, leaning close to her. "No wonder we could never beat them."
"Just wait till you see the Liberator," Blake replied quietly into her ear, and it was only when she drew back again and saw Avral's expression that she realised the significance of the assumption she had made.
"I'm coming with you, then..." Avral's lips were parted a little, her eyes wide. Blake could not look away.
"I hope so," she replied, and tore her attention back to the tactical display and the two formations of ships. One hurriedly assembling into battle array, the other moving like an arrow toward the inner planets... Toward them.
"If the Liberator comes for you," said Grant, letting Blake know he had heard them. "And if her ladyship over there gives you your bracelets back."
Blake smiled faintly at the older man's clipped tone. "You're invited too, you know," she teased.
"I might consider it."
"Lady Shilena..." said a slightly harrassed-sounding voice over the comms. "This is Admiral Brenban... We are about to engage the enemy, my Lady... We will keep you informed of the progress of the battle..."
"Of course you will, Admiral... And you will keep this channel open throughout."
"What...?" came his distracted response. "Yes... Of course, as you wish."
"Can you get us a closer look at what we're facing...?" she asked, moving on. "Let's have a look at our enemy."
"We should have that for you in a moment, Madam."
Juni came in and was surprised to find her progress to join the others near the display was unimpeded, the guards keeping a wary eye on them all, but nothing more, although she did have to step around hurrying staff a couple of times. Blake took her arm, and held on.
"You all right...?"
"Yes," said Juni after only a moment's hesitation. "What's going on...?"
"An unidentified fleet of vessels on the edge of the system," Grant told her, peering closely at what he could make out from the complex display. "Closing fast."
Juni looked more and more troubled as the situation became clearer to her. "Is this what she meant...?" she mused.
"What who meant?" asked Blake, and Juni shook her head as if to say Don't mind me, just thinking aloud.
"Blake..." she said hesitantly. "There's something you should know..."
Blake did her best to tear herself away from the events taking place around them. "Is this what you were about to tell me back on Karstus?"
"Something I read back at Galaxy City... You know, I don't think this is the time. It'll keep."
"Information coming in..." the report began. "The enemy is a... I don't know what to make of this..."
"Something coherent, please," Lady Shilena reproved.
"Yes," said the young man trying to make sense of the data he was receiving from Admiral Brenban's fleet. "They appear to have no uniformity of design, no obvious signifiers... Some of them have transponders, but not all... Yes, positive ID on some of them... They're..." He looked up disbelievingly. "Federation ships... Old Federation ships... There's..." He sounded more alarmed. "Andromedan vessels among them... Some of our own, some civilian... Several are impossible to identify..." He looked at Lady Shilena. "Apologies, Madam, I don't know what to make of it."
"Let me see," said Blake, and she and Juni moved forward to have a closer look at the display and the visuals starting to come in. It confirmed their worst fears.
Juni was the one who addressed Lady Shilena. "We've encountered them before, Madam... They're called the Children of Light... They might look shambolic, but don't underestimate them... They're fanatics, they know what they're doing, and they are without fear."
"Scarn has classified files on them," said Lady Shilena grimly. "To which I have yet to gain access... What do I need to know...? Quickly."
"They're hostile," said Blake. "If they've come for you, you need to stop them, by any means necessary and possible. They won't stop unless we destroy them."
"We...?"
That wasn't the part of what she had just said that Blake expected to be emphasised. "We," she confirmed. "If I can help you, I will... I hope we survive long enough to be enemies again some time."
"This is turning out to be quite a day," Lady Shilena observed wryly, and moved around the display. "Admiral... Did you get all that?"
"Acknowledged, my Lady..." Brenban replied, sounding a little impatient. "I am fully apprised of our enemy from our own confidential files... We should make short work of them... Will report again when they are destroyed... Brenban out."
"Admiral...!" Lady Shilena called sharply. "Admiral... Respond... Respond...!"
"The comm is terminated, Madam."
The look exchanged between Blake and Lady Shilena conveyed many things, including a surprising amount of sympathy for the old woman's frustration. "You see what I am faced with...?" she mused. "It appears I have no choice but to allow him his chance... To make short work of them."
"Let's hope he does," said Del Grant grimly.
The first three squadrons of the Unified Systems fleet deviated from their formerly straight course and moved around the enemy van, capital ships exchanging fire as they passed through each others' formations - Space was alive with the heavy bombardment in all directions, the hulls of the warring ships picked out in the bright flashes even as hulls crumbled and whole sections of several vessels were exposed to space. Soon, amid the debris of battle were the flash-frozen corpses of casualties on both sides.
The ships moved past and away from each other, but the lull was temporary - Both moved around as fast as they could and reengaged, and the destructive exchange of ordnance continued. The whole time, the ships further back, still unengaged, moved in for the kill.
Amid it all, looking very vulnerable, the lightly-armed freighter London, most of the combatants oblivious to its true significance.
Admiral Brenban of the Unified Systems Space Service presided over the main bridge of his flagship, standing, as was his want - and everyone else stood too. His tall, thin form and calm hooded eyes within dark circles radiated authority and, some might say unjustified, confidence. With battle joined, his attention was everywhere, and reports were constantly called out - and each one got a response in measured tones.
"Admiral, casualties coming in now."
"Save it for later."
"The enemy have taken damage to all engaged ships," another voice called. "But none are eliminated... All manouvering to engage again."
"Acknowledged... Maximum power!"
On the fringes of the battle zone, a small object tumbled through space. A metal sphere, its surface layers scarred and pitted from the punishment it had withstood on its path out of Proxima Centauri. Inside those surface layers, a perfectly secured life-support capsule, and inside that, a very nervous occupant.
Scarn huddled in his chair, bewildered and frightened, and so alone now he could actually dare to show it. He frantically went through every system on his lifeboat, the central core of what had been Storm Mountain, searching desperately for a facility he had never for one moment, till now, thought he would need... There... That was it...!
He leaned forward, unnecessarily, and spoke. "Attention... Attention all Unified Systems military and Proximan civilian vessels... Mayday... Mayday... This is President Scarn commanding you to retrieve my life capsule. This takes priority over all other considerations... This is President Scarn. Mayday!"
"Oh, shit."
Admiral Brenban turned sharply, and his voice raised one octave. "Your pardon?"
"Apologies, sir... I didn't mean to do that... Well, you heard the-"
"-I heard it. Stand by."
"Sir, the President-"
"-Stand by." Brenban might look calm on the outside, but inside was turmoil - He had a choice to make, and make quickly. Finally, he responded, his tone a bark, surprising all those used to his measured calm. "Retrieve it."
"Sir, that will mean deploying our reserve away from the combat zone..."
"I know what it means!"
"Just informing you, sir."
"Let me know when it's on board." Brenban wiped the sweat from his brow, and took a deep breath. Storm Mountain was gone, somehow... The enemy - this new, unexpected enemy - was speeding like an arrowhead toward Proxima II, and he was all that stood in his way. And to make it far worse, two leaders vied for his loyalty... Two very different leaders.
He walked a few paces, as if to put distance between himself and the decision he had just made, but a new report cut in on his thoughts almost immediately. "Admiral..."
"What? Report, man."
"A detachment has moved off from behind the enemy... Some kind of reserve force... Only just appeared on our scopes."
"Size? Disposition?"
"Small, sir, three or four. But-"
"Don't worry about it. They won't attack till they can split off more, and by then we'll have reunited the fleet."
"There's something unusual about those ships, sir... They're small, too small to be capital ships, but the scanners are giving us strange readings."
"Keep monitoring them, if it will keep you happy."
"Admiral."
To say that the atmosphere on London's flight-deck was tense would be putting it mildly... Darvin leaned forward in his chair, and barked a question - The same question as ever - at Caul.
"Range?"
"Can't you feel their breath on the back of your neck?" All who knew him were surprised at Caul's allusive reply, and glanced at him curiously, but there was no time to think about that... Or anything else.
"Any more ideas...?" pondered Tam Nivri, fatalistic.
"Just one," said Rissa. "Start shooting with whatever we have, and keep shooting until we can't any longer. It's not good, but it's preferable to the alternatives."
"Alternatives," said Darvin. "Right... What are those?"
"Surrender..." said Caul, detached. When he realised they were all looking at him, he turned. "Not advocating, just answering the question." What's gotten into him? occurred to more than one of them.
"They want this crate so badly," said Darvin. "Am I really the only one who's wondering why?"
"Let's put that one to bed for the moment, eh...?" suggested Nivri, skim reading reports scrolling across his monitors... He looked up at the bank raised above the main console to double check. "Something coming in from portside... Something bloody big!"
"They've gotten in front of us..." said Rissa, running prep on the meager weapons at her disposal. "We should have fought while we could."
"I don't think this is one of theirs," said Caul, studying his scope, and as more data became available he grinned widely. Excited, he turned his chair around. "Guess what?"
"Um... You've finally flipped?" Darvin ventured, wearing an impatient look.
Rissa shared Caul's smile. "I think I know..."
"We're going home," said Caul, and at that moment the three of them all became aware of a peculiar sensation throughout their entire bodies, a tingling as familiar as it was unsettling.
"No," said Darvin, and started trying to unfasten the bracelet around his wrist, having difficulty with the clasp. "Not right now... We wait around, and... Why now...?!"
Darvin, Caul and Rissa were encased in a shell of white light and disappeared, and Nivri and the other couple of survivors of his people on the flight-deck started to their feet.
For some reason, Nivri touched the vacated position where Caul had sat till a moment earlier. "Still warm," he said to the others, totally nonplussed.
Darvin moved straight to the teleport controls on arrival, with single-minded purpose, and sat. "Zen... Report, if you please... Zen...?"
After a brief delay, the echoing tones of the ship's computer filled the air. "LIBERATOR ON COURSE TO COMPLETE CREW RETRIEVAL. ESTIMATE NEXT CONTACT IN POINT-ONE-FIVE HOURS."
"The threat to the ship...?" asked Darvin, talking over the last part of that. "Successfully removed?"
"CONFIRMED."
It fell to Caul and Rissa to notice the pile of clothes on the floor near the bay, and Rissa crouched to investigate, and uncover the tall boots underneath the discarded tunic and trousers... Her artificial eyes refocused on minute particles swirling in the air, particles all but her would miss, and she gasped.
"Faal..." She turned to Caul, now crouching next to her. "He was here... Actually here."
"Where is he now?"
"How to put it... Some of him is still here... We're breathing him."
Caul stood abruptly and backed away. "We're what?" He coughed as if to regurtitate the foreign contaminants.
"Relax, he's pretty well dispersed by now..." She looked up at Darvin, and then stood and moved over to him. "Looks like he wasn't as dead as we thought, boss... But he is now."
"Very interesting, and definitely something that will have my attention later... If we're still here." Darvin's gaze was intense, and stern in a way he seldom was. "But let's focus."
"Focused," said Rissa.
"Focused," said Caul, just in case he was expected to.
Darvin smiled, although his eyes were still cold. "Good."
Lady Shilena looked up at the holographic display of the newcomer, and smiled grimly in recognition as the Liberator appeared in vision. She looked over at Blake.
"I suppose you want your bracelets back, don't you?"
Blake shared a brief look with Juni before replying. "If we did, would you give them to us?"
"Perhaps... I'm not sure."
Juni stepped forward. "With a crew on board, a crew who know its systems, the Liberator could be a real asset in this fight... You know that."
"Yes, of course... But what guarantee do I have that you won't take it away as soon as you go on board, never to be seen again?"
Juni glanced at Blake again. "Our word," she replied, almost a question, knowing how feeble it sounded. What else could they offer...?
Grant was just a little too slow to anticipate what happened next, and when he reached out to try to stop Avral moving, his hand was left hanging in the air before dropping to his side. His expression was pained, bereft - He knew what was coming. The old woman looked a little askance at Avalon's daughter as she stopped in front of her, as close as the guards would allow.
"No..." Blake said, but quietly as if she wanted no one to hear her objection.
"You have a hostage," said Avral, and met Lady Shilena's assessing look for a long moment. Then she turned and moved to Blake.
"I don't want-" Blake began, but Avral came in very close and initiated a kiss, one that lasted several seconds, before turning back to the First Lady. Juni and Grant, even Lenta, as well as several of the staff in the Operations Centre, just stared as if trying to work out what was to happen now.
Del Grant broke the silence. "You have two hostages," he said firmly.
Lady Shilena's gaze only shifted to him for a moment before returning to fix on Avral, who stood waiting for her judgment, a hand entwined with one of Blake's.
"We won't run," said Blake. "And I will come back."
"I don't doubt it," Lady Shilena replied.
The Liberator swung around the fringes of the battle zone in a huge arc, firing off brief salvos of neutron energy at any ship of either side bold enough to break off from the main engagement and approach. At last, the cautious navigation computer brought it in just close enough to fulfil the next part of its instructions.
Zen was prepared, and thorough. Darvin and the others found the flight deck prepared for them when they got there and took up their positions, the pilot, weapons and ship's operations stations lit up and ready. Plugging in, Darvin was momentarily distracted as the other stations began to power up... He frowned slightly - Who were they for...?
"Ready to take over weapons, Darvin," Caul confirmed.
"Rissa?"
"I'm here, aren't I?"
"Zen, switch to manual, please... Zen?"
"CREW RETRIEVAL STILL IN PROGRESS. MANUAL OPERATION MAY IMPAIR EFFICIENCY."
They all thought about that properly for the first time. "You mean they're here..." Caul realised. "Blake and Juni are here somewhere, in the Proxima system."
"CONFIRMED."
Darvin's eyes cast around the flight-deck as whatever plans he had were quickly rethought. "All right, big man. Keep us abreast, all right?"
"CONFIRMED."
Can you get me a comm-link with the London at least... Anyone?
Caul dashed to the station above and behind his, and hurriedly finished prep. "Give me a minute..."
"Take all the time you need, so long as it's very little."
"Got it... They're responding."
"I imagine they would," said Rissa, then peered at her readouts. "Got something now... Yeah... The teleport is operating... Nothing... still nothing. That doesn't look good." She turned to Darvin. "Shall I go, boss?"
"Sure, we got a surplus of personnel here... Joking, I'm joking!"
"We just leave them...? They might be in trouble!"
"Give them time... They might just be having trouble with the catches."
"Glad you've got your sense of humour back, boss, but really?"
"It's Blake, all right...? Give her a chance! And get me that comm-link!"
"Uh, hello there...? Who am I speaking to?"
Darvin grinned in his relief. "Tam Nivri, as I live and breathe...! Sorry for running out on you there, my friend... You guys all right over there?"
"Well as can be expected... Uh... You coming back?"
"Not exactly, but trust me, all right... We haven't forgotten you... Check out your scopes. Big weird-looking ship, alien design, fearsome weapons... That's us, and we're gonna look after you, just as soon as we can."
"Actually, Stev, our scanners are jammed, along with everything else. Two of them have locked onto us and are fixing up their transfer tubes now."
"Which side?"
"Guess."
"OK," said Darvin, thinking furiously. "That's not good. Um... Stand firm, all right?" I know, he mouthed irritably to Rissa as she silently demanded, Stand firm?
"Got something," Caul warned, somehow watching Rissa's station as well as the two he was already manning. "Teleport is activated."
Rissa became suddenly cold and professional. "Shall I go, boss?"
"I think they know the way," said Darvin distractedly.
In the teleport section, Juni crouched down next to Faal's clothes, and then knelt down. After a moment she turned to look up at Blake. "Blake... What's happening? I thought I knew, and then..."
Blake stepped forward and put a hand on her shoulder. "I... I need to get to the flight-deck... I-" She thought for a moment. "Follow when you're ready, all right?"
"And if I'm never ready?" Juni asked, stopping Blake on the steps.
Blake turned. "I... don't think I can do without you, if that helps."
As Blake left, Juni turned back to the discarded clothes, lifting the tunic... After pondering it for a moment, she put her nose to it. "Nothing," she said at last. "Nothing at all."
"Get the shield down!" called Tam Nivri, as he and his people made their last minute hurried preparations to be boarded. "Oh, right, yeah... No shields. Get... Get some kind of barricade together... I don't know, improvise!"
Moving into a sub-corridor to gain a moment of relative quiet, he produced the hand-comm and activated it. "If you've got anything planned, Stev, now's the time," he said, not knowing for sure if Darvin could still hear him. "Honestly, I don't even know what we're protecting here... Apart from ourselves, that is, come to think of it."
Blake appeared at the top of the steps and skipped down to the flight-deck and over to the bank of control stations, her glance passing over Caul and Rissa to settle on Darvin. There was a long moment of silence.
"Well, someone say something," Rissa suggested.
Blake just continued to look at Darvin. He finally stepped over to stand in front of her, and they both listened to the faint sounds of battle.
"You're welcome," he said.