Blake's 7 - Liberators

The sequel to Blake's 7 - Survivors

Chapter 14

"My name is Del Grant, and I am a soldier... A good one, if - it's fair to say - a little past my prime. Not many like me have made it this far, and some days I find myself wondering if the others were the lucky ones. On better days, I tell myself I'm still here for a reason - Sometimes, I even believe it. I never really expected to understand... Till the day I did.

"My name is Del Grant, and I am a soldier..."

The Liberator

Juni descended the short flight of steps onto the flight deck, arms folded, subdued. The first thing that struck her was that Blake and Darvin were standing facing each other down next to the horseshoe-shaped bench seating unit, wordlessly, in a way that struck her as worryingly confrontational... Turning her head, the next thing was that Caul and Rissa, on separate levels of the bank of control stations, were both staring at her...

As well they might. This moment had been long in coming, and for most of their separation it had seemed very unlikely ever to happen.

Caul just continued to look at her, eyes wide, something a little... guilty in his expression, or at least that's how it looked to Juni - Rissa looked like she wanted to rush forward to greet her, but something was stopping her... A brief glance over at Caul... Rissa must have found out... Had she found out...?

Juni looked up at her. "Hug?"

"Yes please," said Rissa, grinning.

"Meet you over there," said Juni, nodding to where Caul stood. As Rissa clambered down from her station and round, Juni walked up the handful of steps, eyes locked with Caul's - Neither of them said anything, but the slight raising of Caul's hand might have been a greeting, and then he broke their eye contact.

Rissa was upon them, and despite the cramped space, Juni engaged them in a tight three-way hug, and felt Caul relax somewhat. Juni pulled back a little - while keeping a hold of Rissa, whose eyes were closed in a blissful state - so that she could see his face again.

"Good to see you," she said quietly.

"Yeah," he replied.

"Hi, Juni," Darvin called up to her.

"Darvin," she acknowledged. "I think some explanations might be in order."

Darvin turned back to Blake. "Got time for a quick briefing?"

Face blank, something a little accusing in her eyes, Blake was still holding back. "We'll make time."

For those not in the thick of it, the battle manifested itself as bright flashes of light, like a distant thunderstorm in space, shifting slightly as the two fleets maneuvered around each other. Get a little closer, and it was like space itself was alive with a swirling pattern of black fabric, the light of Proxima Centauri occasionally briefly glinting on the hulls of the combatant vessels as they offered themselves for the cruel bombardment of their enemy's guns.

The moment of crisis was near.

Unified Systems Command Ship

Admiral Brenban stood ramrod-straight on his flight-deck, tall and stiff and severe, as reports came in... Reports that were vital, reports that were of slightly lesser priority, and reports that he could for the moment dismiss, and his highly-efficent mind swiftly sorted them into the relevent categories.

"Sir... More coming in on that detached flotilla... You remember"-

-"Of course I remember... What is it?" He wasn't yet sure what category this fitted into, he needed to know a little more before that could be decided. "Quickly," he prompted the deck officer in question.

"They've come within scanner range, sir... It- It's bad, sir."

"What kind of report-?"

-"They're towing vehicles, sir... Commercial towers. Four of them."

Brenban's close-cropped head snapped round, and cold eyes fixed on his subordinate. "Laden?"

"Yes, sir."

"Get me the reserve!" Brenban demanded. "Get them back."

"Sir... Got a clearer view now... The towers are moving four aussault ships... Two old Federation frigates, one of our own, decommissioned... One of unknown origin. All ships were silent running, invisible to our detectors till they got close, now powering up... Estimate they will be ready to attack in... two minutes, sir."

"Attack... Attack what? What's happening with that reserve...?"

"Commodore Brath responding, sir... He says... Uh... The President, that is, President Scarn, sir... The President has ordered them to evacuate him from the combat zone and remain to protect him... That's all, sir. Message ends."

Brenban could hear the blood pulsing in his reddening ears, and he fought to control the temper that he had never lost, not once in all his years of service, certainly not on the flight-deck... The decision had to be made now, made finally and irrevocably.

Who was President...? It really did come down to him now. He turned, and tried to do so as slowly as he possibly could, just for that extra second of thinking time. "Lieutenant..."

"Sir."

"Commodore Brath is to disregard any orders issued by former President Scarn, and he is to return immediately to join the fleet. On arrival, he will intercept the detached enemy force and destroy it... Is that clear, lieutenant?"

"Understood, sir! Relaying orders now!"

"Get me more on that detached force...! What is its objective?" Was it going to attempt a flanking maneuver...? Surely not, not with only four ships...

"Sir... Response from Commodore Brath!"

"Report." Brenban disliked the hesitation that followed - It suggested a lack of steel in the comms officer and, far worse, it intimated bad news. "What is it? Report!"

"Commodore Brath formally declines the order, sir - He informs you that President Scarn's orders take priority... He and his squadron are retreating from the combat zone."

Brenban went cold.

"The London...?" Looking up at Darvin manning the pilot's station, Blake was a little incredulous.

"Yeah, it was the ship that took Blake, the other Blake, and his chums from Earth to Cygnus Alpha, what, thirty-odd years ago...? Thirty-two...? Ah, those were the days... A masked and armed Federation trooper on every corner... We never locked our doors. Well, we did, but the guards had override privileges."

"I know what it is, but why would the Children of Light want it...? Is the Blake connection significant to them somehow, or is it some kind of coincidence...?"

"Coincidences..." mused Darvin. "Not sure I believe in those."

"You know, I'm the same..." said Blake. "What a coincidence."

"All the stuff I've done..." said Darvin, a little belligerently. "It was all one thing at a time, and every time it seemed like the best thing to do in that moment."

"Yeah," Blake acknowledged. "I know what you mean."

"Blake," Juni called from her station. "I seem to remember a promise we made."

"Promise..." Darvin seemed a little confused. "Yeah... But a promise made to Scarn's wife... Not, like, a real promise... Am I right?"

"It's not that simple," said Juni quietly.

"I've asked so much of you all already," said Blake. "I don't really know how to ask more... But I have to." She looked over at Caul. "You've followed me from the start..."

"I'll follow you to the end," he replied.

Blake struggled for a reply to that, but Rissa saved her. "You know, I think there's a battle being fought somewhere," she said cheerfully. "Shall we join in?"

The Liberator performed a single strike run through the battle, cutting a swathe of destruction through the rearmost ships of the Children of Light, and then passed through the explosive carnage it had created, on into clear space. It began to move in a long arc to bring itself to bear once again on the battle.

"NO DAMAGE TO LIBERATOR," said Zen. "FORCE WALL DIMINSHED BY APPROXIMATELY TWENTY-THREE-POINT-NINE PERCENT... FORCE WALL RESTORATION COMPLETE IN THREE-POINT-FOUR MINUTES."

Proxima II - Operations and War Room

"We have a few people to rescue," said Blake over comms from the Liberator. "Then we'll do what we can to help against that fleet."

"Fine," said Lady Shilena, thinking furiously, and studied the log of the battle so far saved in front of her. "It appears that ship is their target in any case, so frustrating them in taking it might be the best thing you can do."

"Or..." said Lenta Guld, stepping forward, "It might just provoke them into a sustained attack on us."

Lady Shilena's haughty face turned to her advisor. "Where otherwise they might take the vessel and leave us alone...? Doubtful, don't you think?"

"I'm just trying to point out all the alternatives... I wonder what Carnell would say if he were here..."

"Something self-serving, no doubt. That's why I'd rather have you... Despite everything."

"We're going in now," said Blake. "The radiation in there is so intense our force wall will probably block all but the most powerful signals... We may be out of touch for a while."

"Understood, Blake," said Lady Shilena. "Good luck to you."

Away from the frenetic activity around the central table, Grant and Avral watched and listened, observed unobtrusively by a couple of the guards - Hostages they might be, but no indication had been given that their privileged status had been revoked entirely. "I wish I could be out there with them," Grant fretted quietly.

Avral turned her head slightly to reply. "You could have been," she said. "Only one of us is needed here."

"I'm not leaving you here alone... again."

"There's a new regime now," Avral pointed out lightly, offering a suggestion for his consideration rather than a definite statement. A faint sound, almost a snort, was his reaction.

"You believe that'll make any difference?"

There was a long pause before she replied. "I have to."

There was a far longer pause, eventually broken by Grant. "So... Blake."

Avral had the beginnings of a smile. "Blake."

"Or whatever her name really is."

"She doesn't know... What does it matter?"

"There's a lot she doesn't seem to know about herself... Very convenient."

"Thank you for caring, Del," Avral gently mocked. She turned to face him properly, and looked him in the eye. "I only know what I feel... Nothing else." After a moment, he nodded. "You know what I'm saying," she added pointedly, and he nodded again.

"Yes."

"What would she have made of all this?" Avral wondered, and he did not need to ask who she meant.

"I'll ask her," Grant replied, a little distracted, and Avral looked at him questioningly, but he was moving forward, his attention taken by the central console. "I think something's happening."

The London

Blake and Rissa shimmered into being in a corridor, and, accustomed now to the once-disorienting effect of the teleport, Blake immediately started forward, but Rissa detained her briefly.

"Hey, boss..." Rissa spoke almost shyly, slightly awkward. "Blake... Just wanted to say... Glad you're not dead."

Blake smiled. "Thanks... I'm glad you're not dead too."

"There's not many people I'd say that to... You understand."

"I do." A glance at the bag she was carrying. "Sure we've brought enough bracelets?"

"A couple too many. Don't worry, boss, I'm thorough." Rissa automatically supported herself with an arm against the corridor wall as the ship buffeted violently, and somehow managed to steady Blake as well. The instincts and reflexes of a warrior.

Another smile from Blake. "It's been a while... Let's go, eh? I think they could use our help."

"Tactical scan complete," Caul announced, and passed it to the Liberator flight-deck's display screen with almost a theatrical flourish - Juni and Darvin looked up and took in the situation quickly.

"A lot of ships," said Darvin. "I had no idea there were going to be quite that many."

"The London really is important to them, isn't it?" Juni said solemnly, realising the weight of what they were facing. "They're throwing everything at us."

"We hope it's everything," said Darvin curtly, activating ship-to-bracelet comms. "Blake and whassername... You all right over there?"

"Did we forget to check in?" Blake's voice crackled.

"Nah... I just get worried. Don't take any unnecessary risks, got me?"

"Why Stev, I never knew"-

-"Then you must not have been paying attention - Darvin out." As Darvin glanced back at the tactical display, Juni and Caul looked at each other slightly askance. "Zen! Another strike run, if you please... Of the quick, clinical and devastating variety if at all possible!"

Again, the Liberator cut a violent swathe through some of the outlying ships of the Children of Light fleet, and again it was through and out again into clear space before any meaningful response could be staged. Automatically, the neutron blasters began the process of recharging and auto-repair systems proceeded with the restoration of the force wall...

While the enemy ships again reformed and continued their attacks on the increasingly thinly-stretched and vulnerable UniS defenders.

The small flotilla detached by the Children of Light, far from the centre of the battle and relatively unregarded till now, was a dark shape in the darkness of space - The four warships being towed by their much smaller counterpart vessels changed that by swiftly powering up and readying themselves for their mission - A cold start could not be achieved instantly, but with the dedicated and highly-trained Lightseekers working flat out, it could be achieved with sufficient speed to fulfil their purpose.

Detectors pinpointed their target, and the ships sped toward it.

"What is its objective?" Brenban made himself say once more, even though he knew he had correctly anticipated the answer. Even so, when it arrived, it sent a chill down his spine.

"They're... Sir, they're heading for... The sun. That is, our"-

-"Yes," he acknowledged curtly.

Proxima II's artificial star, generally known in common usage as the sun... The climate stabilsation device created by the old Earth colonists nearly a thousand years ago and maintained in the planet's orbit ever since... The device upon which the whole future of life in this slowly dying red dwarf star system depended.

He had known it would be a potential target, and had placed his unusually large tactical reserve so as to block any flanking attack - Using it to retreive their errant President's life capsule had been a short-term measure, and he had expected - needed - it back.

Now it was gone, and so, he realised, was all hope. Not just of victory, but of survival.

"Reopen communications with the war room on Proxima Two," he commanded, his thoughts elsewhere as he went through the motions. "And please prepare to commit all ships to frontal attack at my order."

"Welcome back..." said Tam Nivri uneasily, clinging to the bulkheads as he led the way along a narrow accessway, and turned his head to see Rissa's face in the dim emergency light. "We thought you'd left us for good... Wouldn't blame you."

"I don't leave people behind," said Rissa. "Not friends, anyway... Distribute these to your people. Get them to fasten them around their wrists... Properly! Their lives will depend on it." As the bracelets were passed around, and forward to the defenders at their hastily assembled barricade, Rissa added, "Nivri - Blake. Blake - Nivri."

"So you're Blake..." Nivri looked a little bemused.

"I am, yes... Hoping for someone a little more... male?"

He shook his head. "Just thought you'd be older... But then, fighting's a game for the young, isn't it? 'Less you can't avoid it, or you're too stupid to avoid it..."

Rissa grinned. "Which one are you, Nivri?"

"Old and stupid, that's me... and pleased to have made it this far." Nivri's eyes had a haunted look as he addressed Blake again. "Are we really gonna survive this?"

"No promises," she replied. "The Liberator's flight-path will bring it back into range in a few minutes."

"Great," said Nivri, and was slammed into the bulkhead along with the rest of them as something impacted solidly on the outer hull. "That's them coming through...! We may not have that long!"

"The fleet is advancing, my lady... All ships in frontal aussault on the enemy."

Lady Shilena was still struggling to take in the information, reeling from how it could all go so wrong so quickly... Then she made herself focus - That would not do. People were relying on her. "Advice please, advisors!"

"He hopes to destroy them all quickly," said Del Grant, face grim. "And then come back to deal with this other attack before it gets too far."

"Can he do it, do you think...?" Lady Shilena glanced at him, and he sensed how annoyed she was at having to ask advice from a former enemy - Worse, a former mercenary. His response was considerate of those sensibilities.

"Perhaps. If he is lucky."

"If we're all lucky," said Avral.

"The enemy ships are closing on target..." one of the staff announced ominously.

"But it's shielded, isn't it...?" queried Lenta, glancing up at the display of the threatening enemy ships. "The sun is shielded from potential attack."

"How effectively?" Lady Shilena cast around for an answer.

"Pretty effective," said Grant. "As well as the basic force wall generated by the device itself, you've got shield generators on the surface projecting more substantial electronic shielding... They work in shifts as the device's orbit progresses, with a short overlap period as each generator takes over from the last." As they all looked at him closely, he shrugged. "The generators are prime targets - Of course I looked into them. Outside of your own people, you won't find more of an expert on those things than me."

"How fortunate we are to have you here, then..." Lady Shilena's response could have been sincere, but somehow Grant doubted it - He looked over at Avral, and they both suppressed a smile.

"Bad news!" Lenta alerted them, studying reports coming in. "We've got attacks on the shield generators, apparently coordinated with the advance of the ships!"

"How is that possible?" Lady Shilena breathed, and actually had to support herself as she moved over to join her at the main console.

"They often build up sleeper agents anywhere they plan to attack, sometimes years before the attack actually begins..." said Lenta. "Makes sense they have some on Proxima II..." She skim-read further reports. "A lot on Proxima II."

"Well, this is good, isn't it?" said Grant, stepping forward to join them. "All your enemies out in the open now. Just use your reserves to take them all out." He saw their reactions to that. "Reserves?"

"Only the garrison of the Kapital now, and a few other isolated detachments, all currently being targeted..." said Lenta.

Grant came to a decision. "Give me a gun, as many of your persoanl guards as you can spare, and transport to the key shield generator," he said.

They both just looked at him... and then, sidelong, at each other.

"Wait..." Nivri looked up and listened carefully. "That noise, that impact... It wasn't where I thought it would be..."

"What are you saying?" Blake demanded.

"I'm saying... they made us think they were coming through here, using the existing airlock, and all the time, they're only bloody coming through the sodding hull somewhere else...!" One of his people handed him a portable display, and Nivri studied it hurriedly. "Oh, I should've bloody known...! There's a weak spot. Old damage, where the ship was holed years ago... They're going for that. Once they're through the outer hull, that sealant will be a big solid chunk coming free... Oh shit... Not gradual pressure loss... Explosive decompression. Any minute."

"I thought they wanted this ship!" said Rissa, consulting her chronometer to make a guess at how close the Liberator was now. "Don't they?

"They've been messing about on the hull for a while... Maybe they've already got what they wanted, somehow... Maybe what they wanted is in a sealed compartment somewhere... I don't know!"

"Darvin..." said Blake into her bracelet. "Teleport now, please... All of us. Quick as possible."

"Would if I could... Not in range. Couple of minutes yet."

"Then this might be goodbye, rather than out," Blake replied irritably, and terminated the exchange.

"Darvin..." said Juni, pondering the readings coming in to her station. "They're about to carve open a section of London's hull... What the hell are they doing that for?"

"Looking for reasons for what a bunch of fanatics do... That's a good way to go as mad as they are, Juni."

"There's a reason," said Caul thoughtfully, having called up a duplicate of the display Juni had been studying.

"Feel free to share any special insights," Darvin suggested.

"I don't have any special..." Caul looked a little confused. "Why do you-?"

"Zen..." Juni addressed the ship's computer. "Can I have a deep scan of that section of the hull they're cutting into?"

"CONFIRMED."

"What's up, Juni?"

"I don't know... Something... Just... something doesn't seem right."

"I'm a great respecter of hunches," he said. Darvin and Juni shared a smile, for the first time in the almost twenty years of their mostly uneasy acquaintance.

"My name is Del Grant, and I am a soldier... When I used to go into combat, or really a dangerous situation of any kind, I used to have a sort of rutual... A secret one. Oh, nothing profound, nothing of consequence to anyone but me, but I had a particular way of buckling my tunic in the right order, a particular way of checking my gun. But there came a time - It was nine years ago, almost to the day - when I... stopped. Just stopped doing it. I don't really know why, I couldn't tell you why.

Today, I did it again, for the first time in nine years. I couldn't tell you the reason for that either."

"I'm sure it's a real gun," said Avral with a faint smile, as Grant went through the same checks once again before holstering the weapon.

"Can't be too careful," he replied, and turned to Lady Shilena and Lenta Guld. "Just make sure you transmit the code to unlock it before I get there, or this is likely to be a short fight."

"It's already unlocked," said Lenta.

Grant raised an eyebrow. "You've given me a gun... Here?" His eyes moved to Lady Shilena. "Trusting."

"Not remotely," she said. "But we have to start somewhere." Turning away, Lady Shilena moved back to the main console, and if she was worried about the possibility of being shot in the back it definitely did not show - If Grant was even remotely tempted to shoot her, nor did that show too much.

He turned away too, and found Avral performing final checks on her sidearm - His mouth opened and closed for a moment in his surprise. "You're"-

-"Coming with you, yes," she said, not looking up. "We have to start somewhere," she added, echoing Lady Shilena's words. "Or maybe arming your hostages is a sign that things are getting really desperate."

"I think we may have passed that point some time ago," said Grant. "No point-?"

-"Trying to dissuade me?" She looked up at him. "What do you think?"

"Just don't"-

She interrupted him again. -"I'll try not to."

"RESULT OF DEEP SCAN AVAILABLE, CORRELATED WITH TACTICAL SUMMARY," Zen announced.

"Thanks, Zen," said Darvin. "Time to teleport range with London?"

"ONE-POINT-NINE-FIVE MINUTES," came the reply.

"Tight..." Darvin activated internal comms. "Orac... Stand by on teleport... Activate the second - No, the attosecond - we're within range, OK? Get our people out of there!"

The tetchy reply came through. "The instructions were already sufficiently clear. Attempting to motivate more diligent application to my duties is not required. My efficiency is not subject to the vagaries of adrenal secretion. I am altogether faster, and more consistent in that speed, than you can imagine."

"Blah blah, Orac. Just say yes," Darvin shot back. "In fact, say yes, sir."

"That report is interesting, Darvin," said Juni.

"Summarise, please... I'm a busy man."

"They seem to be..." Caul was nonplussed by the information, but ploughed on. "Extracting a large solid piece of sealant - That old stuff they used to use, the foam that goes hard in seconds - When that comes free"-

-"Yeah, I get it... Bye bye, London...! Zen - Time now-?"

"POINT-FIVE-EIGHT MINUTES."

"Oooohhh..." Darvin threw himself back in his chair, knowing everything possible had been done, and hating that fact... It was up to Orac now. "Blake," he said, activating comms, "Any second now, you hear me...? Any second. Hang in there!"

"Hanging..."

"Blake..." Juni began, activating her mic. "I- I still have something... I found out something, a long time ago... I need to tell you - I know y"-

-"Teleport activated," Orac's prissy voice announced.

The entire hull of the London buskled and caved in, with parts of it exploding outwards, and the entire ship started to break apart - The Children of Light vessel that had been alongside moved away with a large section of London still attached to it - Withdrawing with their prize.

"Orac, do we have them?" Darvin demanded. "Orac!"-

-"Teleport completed," Orac announced. "Process partially successful."

The three of them on the flight deck just stared straight ahead, not wanting to look at each other, and Darvin's heart tried to leave through his throat. Controlling his breathing with an effort, he managed to continue. "Explain"-

-"With such an unusually large number of subjects, the teleport resorts to relaying the data stream through multiple buffers to boost the signal gain... One buffer failed at the moment of transfer, and the teleport was forced to automatically prioritise within a limited band-width. Therefore, some subjects were not reinitialised in the teleport bay, and with no storage medium immediately available, certain patterns were lost."

"Orac!" Juni said, leaning forward. "Who made it, and who didn't?"

Shaken, more disoriented and disturbed by the teleport process than ever before, even by the relatively primitive teleport technology on Darvin's old ship Revenant, Blake stood in the bay and closed her eyes. The light was painful, and she needed a few moments to overcome her nausea.

At last, she felt able to speak. "Rissa..." she said faintly. "Rissa... Where are you?" She stretched out her hand blindly, still finding it unbearable to expose her retinas to the light of the teleport bay. "Rissa... Please..." Please, don't be dead... Not you as well...

A hand touched hers, small and smooth, but unexpectedly strong. "Here I am, boss... You're all right. You're all right. Just give yourself a little time."

"We don't have time," Blake gasped. "We never do... There's never any time." She recovered herself. "Are you all right...? Can you see?" Blake only remembered Rissa's artificial eyes after she asked the question, so accustomed was she to her friend's appearance.

"I can see," said Rissa. "That's right, try opening your eyes now, you're all right."

"Nivri... Where's Nivri?"

"He..." Rissa's voice broke a little. "He didn't make it, boss. Something went wrong, and he didn't make it."

"Oh."

"I liked him," Rissa said simply. "I really liked him."

"Yes," said Blake. "I still can't..." She held up the braclet to her mouth. "Darvin... That ship that was docked with London..."

"Consider it destroyed..."

"No!" she yelled. "Don't destroy it! Fire a beacon... Contact the Admiral, and give him the frequency... Tell him it's the most important ship in their fleet...! That won't be a lie... Did you get that...?"

"Got it... Good thing I trust you..."

Brenban frowned. "That ship looks like a civilian salvage vessel... Light armament... No threat to us. What's so important about it?"

"No time to explain, Admiral..." Darvin's voice crackled. "But it's vital you target that thing with everything you have."

"But you're closer," said Brenban. "Why can't you deal with it?"

"We barely survived that last engagment... Letting our auto-repair systems do their job... It'll be a while before we can rejoin, Admiral... It's up to you, now."

Brenban shook his head, his frazzled wits reeling from setback after setback, and now this... "All right," he said, just grateful for any possible hope to end this with something approximating a victory. "All right... You'd better not be deceiving us... If you are..."

"I'm ex-Federation Space Service, Admiral..." said Darvin. "I'll take the standard threats as read."

The others looked a little askance at Blake, still unsteady on her feet, as she took up her normal station standing between the bank of control stations and Zen's wall-mounted interface, but her manner didn't invite inquiries as to her wellbeing. "Status?" she asked.

"Brenban's fleet is taking the bait," said Darvin.

She looked up at him. "We're not trying to deceive them... The Children of Light will protect that ship now, with everything they have... You're the expert. What happens, in your experience, when an entire fleet is forced to change it's plans drastically at the height of a battle?"

The ghost of a smile played over Darvin's face for a moment as he studied the readouts on his station. "Let's hope you're right."

"They hope, by pressing home an aussault on Proxima II, they'll distract from their real objective... Whatever they took from the London. But if Brenban attacks that salvage ship, what happens? They're forced to close up and protect it... Concentrate their forces... Pull back. Present a better target for Brenban's heavier ships... I hope that's what happens, anyway."

"Hope I never get on the wrong side of you, boss..." said Rissa casually.

"While we... Let's see what we can do about those ships attacking Proxima II... Set course, please."

Darvin looked down at Blake. "What do they have...? What did they take from that ship...? What's worth attacking the Proximans years before they're ready?"

"I hope we never find out," said Blake.

Admiral Brenban's fleet attacked with every ship available, holding nothing back... Space was alive with the devastating bombardment as his ships pressed their attack, and spectacular damage was wreaked on both sides... The Children of Light concentrated their forces around the small salvage ship to cover its retreat.

The tiny vessel, with its vital cargo still a mystery, activated its time distort drive, the destination coordinates known only to its captain and to one other, and disappeared from the scanners of the UniS ships.

The Children of Light fleet began to withdraw, division by division, leaving both sides devastated, but the UniS fleet in possession of the field - A victory for Admiral Brenban, of sorts... The flight-deck of the UniS command ship, however was gone - destroyed in the final exchange of fire, and all command crew vaporised with it.

Admiral Brenban had achieved victory, but had given his life for it.

"This is Commodore Brath..." The communication was sent to all vessels. "I am taking command of the fleet..."

The bridge of Star Maiden was in hushed silence, the crew of Lightseekers in their white robes huddled over their satations... Alert to the commands, to the slightest shift in mood, of the forbidding figure presiding over them. Tylner turned his head to study the readouts on the bank of monitors above his head.

"Protect the salvage ship." A simple statement, but its implications took a few moments to become clear to all of them.

"Orders going out..." said comms, and there may have been the slightest movement of the young woman's head as she began to turn around to look at Tylner and at once thought better of it.

Miko stepped forward to stand next to Tylner, and looked at him steadily - That resolve was helped by their leader's face being partly obscured by his raised hood. "Sir... We are winning... If we were to continue with our current tactics, victory against the enemy fleet is"-

-"This battle is meaningless," said Tylner calmly. "Protect the salvage ship."

"Indeed, sir... The casualties are likely to be"-

-"Yes..." Tylner turned his head toward Miko, and he forced himself again not to flinch as he stared into the ravaged face. "They are the most blessed of all of us... They will lead the way."

Its location classified, the tower jutted from the forest clearing, gleaming metal contrasting with the leafy canopy - One of the generating stations for the planet's artificial star, and the most vital of all... The one that was currently protecting the planet's miniature sun... A prime target for the insurgents. The target.

If it was destroyed, Proxima II would become uninhabitable very quickly. The habitat of almost half the human race would be finished.

The attackers advanced in wave after wave, some garbed in their distintive bloodied white robes, some not - some with only makeshift weapons, some very well equipped indeed - and no matter how many were shot down by the beleaguered defenders more appeared to replace them. The Children of Light had been infiltrating Proxima II for a long time, it seemed, and now was the day they had been waiting for - Sooner than expected, but they had been ready.

Grant looked appalled as Avral approached his position, under fire, supported by one of Lady Shilena's soldiers... He left his cover briefly to help her. "I'm all right!" she said irritably, as he eyed the torn legs of her trews, and the blood... "Just a little too close, that one."

They both pressed themselves down behind the barricade. "The north-eastern attack?" he asked, forcing himself to be professional.

"Defeated," she said, checking her gun. "Position reinforced. They won't be coming back that way again."

"You think."

"I do think, Del... Is that not good enough?"

"Yes... Of course it is." He indicated upwards with his head, while his hands busied themselves changing his gun's power catridge. "As you can see, we're still heavily engaged on this side."

"How long before the next generator takes over?"

"No idea... My chronometer was hit."

She laughed. "You know, we've never done this. We've never fought together."

"I know."

"I'm glad we're here now, for what it's worth..."

"Are you...?" he asked, looking like he was about to add some scathing comment about her recklessness. As a loud boom was heard, and they felt an accompanying vibration in the ground, he remarked, "Where did they get artillery?"

"It's too late," she replied, and smiled. "They've lost, Del... We stopped them. You hear me? We won!"

She saw a change in his expression at that moment, as his eyes went a little glazed, and Avral's whole perception of what was happening around her seemed to alter... Avral started to stand up, aware of the danger but disregarding it, also ignoring the pain in her leg...

"Del... Del...!"

She stopped his body falling over, and shoved his considerable weight back under cover of the barricade. Shifting her grip on his torso, her hand slid, soaked in his blood...

Avral noticed the damage to the barricade where he had been positioned... The wound in his side, the white of his ribs visible through it. "Del...!" she screamed. His body slumped again, and she couldn't stop it rolling over this time, and she just rolled along with it, and clutched his lolling head to her tightly.

"Del..." she said quietly.

"The attackers were defeated..." The voice of Lady Shilena Mekatir, issuing from the speakers on the flight-deck of the Liberator, held no triumphant tone, just weary acceptance. "But a lot of them are unnacounted for still."

"Nonetheless, a good result..." said Blake. "Congratulations, Lady Shilena... I don't suppose you can put me through to Del Grant..."

There was a long moment of silence, and Blake began to get uneasy. "Or Avral... Lady Shilena...?" Blake and Darvin exchanged an uneasy glance, then Blake's gaze moved to Juni.

"I'm afraid that won't be possible," Lady Shilena's voice crackled.

The fleet of the Children of Light limped away from the engagement, depleted, leaving the wrecked hulls of many of their ships behind them - but still, a force to be reckoned with one day.

On board Star Maiden, Miko was receiving reports through his console - The casualty lists made him pause and read them again, and he remembered Tylner's words... Glancing up at the tall white-robed figure, gaunt and slightly-stooped, he heard the words again in his mind...

"They will lead the way..." The dead, the most blessed of all. They would lead, and all of them would soon follow... Very soon now.

Amid the wreckage of the barricade, Del Grant's body was loaded onto a stretcher - Avral reached out a hand to stop the medics finishing their task of wrapping the covering around his body. She ran the hand over his face, now growing cold, and hesitated before finally pulling the cloth up to cover it. "Goodbye, Del," she said.

"My name was Del Grant, and I was a soldier... A good one. And, perhaps, in the end, a little more than that."