Illusions and Realities

Part 2 - Actions

Prologue

Avon grasped the communicator between his hands. He could feel Servalan behind him, gun levelled, even though he was turned away from her. Adrenaline sharpening his senses he heard her slight indrawn breath as he brought the communicator closer, and sighed silently; he would have only one chance at this.

For a second he thought of the others as they had watched him leave, not the best of goodbyes perhaps, but then again maybe it was given the circumstances. That was why he had done it after all, just in case. For a moment Cally’s face hovered on the edge of his mind and he felt a pang of something he didn’t want to recognise, not now, but it left a shadow of regret behind. Even so, he admitted to himself, he would have preferred their parting to have been different.

He pushed the thought away; there was no point in wishing that now, and it had been his choice.

Because he had known that it could come to this; despite carefully calculating the odds, always suspecting a trap. Yet he had been forced to come anyway, just as she had known he would be. In the end his word was all there was anymore, and he had given Blake his word. After all the false starts and rumours he needed to be sure that he had honoured that promise, in spirit if not in fact. Not that she understood that; and perhaps Blake wouldn’t have cared.

Blake. He had always known that it was more likely to be a trap than Blake, and it was one that was now truly sprung. Servalan's promises had convinced him that Blake was not here. A clone perhaps, or maybe even a double, but not Blake. Somewhere deep inside himself there was the fleeting recognition that the conclusion hurt in some way, no doubt Servalan intended that it should. Still with a little luck he would prove to be more devious than she. Even though he had been quite open about his suspicions it did not seem to have crossed her mind yet that he would have planned for it. Her pleasure in bettering him, her belief in her knowledge of him and the anticipation of finally claiming Liberator had made her overconfident for the moment, and a moment was all it would take.

He smiled inwardly. In some ways she understood him so well, but maybe in other ways she didn’t know him at all. Or possibly he had changed; perhaps a cellar on Earth had changed him.

No, he wasn’t surprised by the turn of events, despite his earlier remarks to Servalan he had never believed in that mysterious discovery. Blake would not have offerred it to him in that way, and how could Blake have found such a thing in the confusion since Star One anyway? He had checked the possibility exhaustively with Orac, just to be sure, much to the computers open disgust. No, it had just been part of the bait.

The sight of the injured man had finally convinced him that it was another of Servalan's games. No one in Blake's condition could have discovered anything in the time available.

He had left Blake connected to his lifeline convinced that it was nothing other than more Federation conditioning, but now he doubted that the other man was Blake at all. Servalan might release himself to this dangerous world but not Blake, but she would not pass up the opportunity to return Blake to Earth, either dead or alive, not after the trouble and humiliation he had caused for her before the war. Not while her position was still so weak. The Federation may have other imperatives for the moment but she could not afford to have a healthy Blake on the loose at a time when her ruined empire was so vulnerable.

Yet, for a moment he wondered. What if he were wrong? He had always criticised Blake for taking decisions for others and now he was preparing to do the same. Would the other man appreciate the irony of that? If the man he had just left were Blake would he perhaps consider the Liberator a worthwhile price to be free? Worth it to have a chance to fight again, another chance to see his dream finally realised? If it were Blake in that room then maybe there was a discovery. One that would be worth the loss of the ship, given what he knew would be the result of her gaining possession?

No, if that had been the case she would not allow the discovery out of her grasp. Not Servalan. So, if the man he had seen was Blake then he would make the same choice as he himself was about to make. If it were Blake then they would die together, as he had always suspected they might.

If he was Blake.

The exchanges between them had felt so very right but could he be sure? Now he came to think of it he would have expected Blake to mention Jenna, to ask for her or to tell him where to find her. He hadn’t, but that aside the man had looked and sounded so like Blake, even down to the choice of words. Yet still he couldn’t be sure. Were he ever to come face to face with Blake again that was probably how the conversation would go, so perhaps…...

The sound of Servalan's long skirt whispering as she shifted on those absurd heels brought that train of thought to an abrupt halt. No time for it now. Either way the decision was made, had been made some time ago, after Kairos. He had set it up so very carefully, it would only take a few words and it would be done. No Liberator for Servalan, at least not yet. One last act, one last mess to clear up, then he would be free of it all. After that it was up to the others.

He found himself hoping that they would find Blake if he lived, if he was not here on Terminal. If they did find him, if they could get him back to Earth then it might yet be possible to finish it, to salvage something from this debacle. Oh, he had little concern for Blake's masses, he was sure that their freedom would be brief and they would soon conspire to oppress themselves again, but in the mean time Blake on Earth would mean that the others would be safe. Safe from the Federation, and from Tarrant’s recklessness.

That was important because somewhere along the way to here they had become his responsibility, and whatever else he had done in his life he had never willingly abandoned his responsibilities. Nothing altruistic or moral in that he told himself sternly it was simply a matter of pride, of what he owed to himself.

Yes it would be best if they could find Blake.

Servalan moved again, the rustle of her skirts somehow breathing a warning, she was getting impatient and he couldn’t allow that, it might make her wary. His hands tightened around the communicator, he took a deep breath and concentrated his mind on what he was about to say. It had to be right. Then he opened the channel and called Liberator.

Vila answered sounding both confused and curious. Nothing new there, Vila did that particular combination better than anyone else he had ever met; but somehow the familiarity added to the creeping sense of unreality. Perhaps it was fitting, Vila had started it for him when he had introduced him to Blake and now it would be Vila who ended it for him. Deep inside his mind something sheered and a sense of finality blossomed. Soon it would be over, finished.

A moment’s grief and fear surged through him sending tingling shocks through his nervous system. But it was quickly suppressed, deadened by a growing sense of urgency. It must be done now!

He spoke quietly keeping his voice devoid of expression, careful not to arouse her suspicion before the all important words were spoken.
"Vila, listen to me very carefully.”
He could imagine the satisfaction shining in the beautiful, cold, eyes fixed on his back, the anticipation warming her blood. Nearly there, only a few more words.
“No questions. Just do as I tell you and do it immediately. Take the Liberator out of here, maximum speed. Go and keep going!"

Only as he spoke that last key phrase did he allow any urgency to appear in his voice and she was not quite close enough to stop him. Vila’s voice came back at him confused and anxious, Avon hurried into speech,
“It’s important Vila do it!”

Not that he could do anything else, but Servalan must not know that. He closed the channel. It was finished, over. There was nothing left for him to do now, he was finally free. Finally released from Blake. Almost certainly dead, but free.

He heard Servalan shout something and the click of her heels as she came close to him; but she was too late, far too late. He barely felt the blow that landed on the back of his neck and, as he started to fall, one last grateful thought echoed through his darkening mind; it didn’t matter how tired he was any more because it was finished. Events had come full circle, he was a prisoner again and it was finally over.