SERVALAN'S REQUEST, CHAPTER 1

All rights to Blake's 7 belong to their proper owners and creators. I own nothing, I am making no money from this, I am just doing this for fun.

The space command station was stark, white walls on white, with geometric patterns that only made the structure seem colder still, frigid as the long cold, like Servalan herself. The air was well processed, smelling lightly of fresh disinfectant, not stuffy at all. Not like the practical but somewhat cramped conditions of the troop
carrier that had bought him here. The Jackal. No, he was more at home there at any rate. The ship was built for practicality not comfort, and anyway no one cared to try and make them comfortable so long as they did their job, but the company was more honest. Servalan had always been devious. He felt sweat gathering on his palms, but he'd never show her how nervous she made him. She sickened him, everything about her, her politics and greedy hypocrisy. But he wasn't afraid of anything, not even her. He had never been able to ask for help even when he needed it, and being under Servalan's direct command he probably did need it. She saw
him as little but expendable ammunition for her private purposes, perhaps worse than that as she seemed to find humiliating him an amusing distraction from whatever vile plot she was currently orchestrating. He didn't like to admit that she owned him but it would be the closest to the truth.

The ice queen of Space Command watched him like a snake from across her marble white desk. He wanted to be back with his men, but he had little choice but to be here. She had given him an order.

"You called... supreme Commander. Am I to...

"Be silent Travis, and listen to what I have to say. I'm presuming that you can manage that at least." The interruption was an obvious calculated insult, but he bit it back as best he could. He hated the control she had over him. Hated the fact that she treated him like a dog most of the time, but what exactly could he do. Besides he needed her to get Blake. He looked away then, from her graceful silhouette, unable to hold that gaze any longer. There was a marked pause as he resisted the need to answer her, but he knew he couldn't do so forever.

"As you say, ...Supreme Commander." The sullen bitterness in his rough voice was crystal clear, repressed resentment vying with defeat in the barely audible mutter that followed "I don't suppose you'd give me a choice either way."

"What did you say Travis? Remember I'm the only thing standing between you and a court martial. I could revoke that right at any time." Travis' jaw clenched grimly, bitter as the fall into hell, wanting to clench his hand tightly, fingers flexing but knowing servalan would see it as insolence.

"It does not matter... Supreme Commander." Travis' posture was guarded as he looked back at her sullenly, grudgingly as he countered her demand, on the edge of disobeying but not quite over it. His frustration and impatience felt like it would spill over at her treatment but he kept his discipline in order. He was a good officer,
not even Servelan could take that away from him.

"Oh, but it does." she countered confidently, "Besides if I wish I can get space major Chapley to replay it on the security system. However, I have much more, important matters for you and your specific expertise at the moment so I'll let that one slide, but hear me Travis, I will not tolerate your continued impertinence."

"What.?!" The alliteration resonated his growing frustration.

"What do you mean Travis?" She liked treating him as if he were a fool, demeaning him, but Travis tried not to let it get to him too much.
"

"What do you want me to do for you Servalan? Isn't that clear enough?" Travis ground out. He rested his cybernetic arm on a jutting whitewashed ornament, his head tilted as he watched her, his breaths harder than necessary. Servalan noticed of course. Oh yes, she certainly made him uncomfortable.

"Quite. I wish you to find this woman." Servalan passed him the file in calculated whitewashed fingers, dainty eyes piercing as stiletto daggers, calm and powerful and most important deadly.

"Why?" he alliterated slowly. Servalan's eyes snapped up to him instantly, annoyed by him that he had omitted her title, yet almost pleased that she had to enforce it. "...Supreme Commander." he bit out begrudgingly.

"That's better! See that you find her. And hurry! I need her for my plan to locate Avon." He suspected her opinions of Avon perhaps had a more personal edge, since the clone, but he said nothing about that, instead annoyed. This was no time for personal vendettas.

"Avon? Why do you need him?" Travis demanded, confused by her reasoning.

"Don't be a fool, Travis. Even someone like you should be able to understand his worth to me." Travis grunted at the turn of phrase she used but Servalan glared back at him, severely unamused. Cold as Perma frost.

"Well what if I don't. And what about Blake!" He bit out then. Travis sounded angry, sullen, and so close to snapping. Servalan's barbs were starting to grate on his impatient nature.

"All in good time Travis. All in good time." She pressed a button on her desk. A communicator. "Secretary Rontane, enter please" she issued tartly. Travis was clearly dismissed and he stamped out sullenly as the smaller man entered, an emphasis on his crisp reedy voice about the president requesting him as envoy personally. Travis ignored the politician as if he wasn't there. What did it matter to him anyway. He had his orders, he just wanted to get back to the Jackal and find out where they were going to be barracked down for the night. Maybe then he'd be able to stop thinking about the look in Servalan's demeaning calculated eyes, and the last damned time he had been here.

Thank you for reading.