From Becky.Smith@k12.uen.gen.ut.us Thu Dec 28 18:28:32 1995 Date: Thu, 28 Dec 1995 10:28:19 -0700 (MST) From: Becky Smith To: calle@lysator.liu.se Subject: Remembrance Part One (fwd) MIME-Version: 1.0 Content-Type: TEXT/PLAIN; charset=US-ASCII ---------- Forwarded message ---------- From: MB Overton Message-Id: <1782.9502182133@potter.cc.keele.ac.uk> To: blake7@lysator.liu.se Subject: "Remembrance" (RR2 Part 1) Okay, a day early but who cares. Voila part 1 of "Remembrance", our new Round Robin. Enjoy, quibble, whatever. I don't mind, I'm generous like that. BLAKE'S 7 "Remembrance" Part 1 by Mark Overton :Gauda Prime >>>ENERGISE PRIMARY COIL Command not accepted. This command is coded Red-level access only. Please use only commands suitable to your access clearance. >>>CODE CLEARANCE CHANGE : PRIORITY RED : AUTHORISATION 4247ndy432-ORAC. Code clearance change accepted, Orac. >>>ENERGISE PRIMARY COIL Flyer primary coil energised. Flight mode now available. >>>ENGAGE Please state destination. >>>SPECFIC DESTINATION NOT REQUIRED. LEAVE CURRENT LOCATION AND FLY TWENTY MILES WEST. Acknowledged. Beginning flight. :Space City :9 months later Gartoll checked the energy clip in the gun for what must have been the ten thousandth time. His palms were sweaty with nervousness, and the cool black metal of the gun's grip had long since warmed up and become greasy with his uncertainties and worries. Gartoll eased the weapon back into its half-concealment in his overcoat's pocket and looked out of the shuttlecraft window at the empty blackness of space beyond. But it wasn't empty. Space City was just beginning to fill up Gartoll's viewport in the shuttlecraft's side. The huge space station, a collection of domes that would have been impossible to construct in any atmosphere, began to edge in from the left-hand side as the shuttle drew further away from the cruise liner *Magellan* and neared its destination. Gartoll rubbed his palms together and thought about death and murder as the shuttle approached the docking bay. All around him, people were getting into the holiday mood. Or the gambling mood, or the prostitutes mood, or the drinking or drugs moods..or any mood that took their fancy, providing they had the money. Space City was a provider - you paid the money, it provided whatever you want. The money, of course, disappeared into the pockets of the Terra Nostra. One of whom Gartoll was going to kill. He started to look out of the viewport again when suddenly the shuttle jerked and space vanished, replaced by dull grey metal walls as the little craft was taken inside the docking bay. The shuttle was guided gently to rest in a docking berth and suddenly, with a whoosh of air that was audible even to the thirty or so people inside the shuttle, the bay pressurised itself. Sounds suddenly came to life, travelling in an atmosphere the way they could not in vacuum; the dying whine of engines, the brarp of klaxons as spacecraft of all kinds and origins were prepared for departure or worked over after arrival. Gartoll unstrapped himself from his seat and hurried quickly off the shuttlecraft, through one of the side doors into the back corridors of the space station. These were the areas none of the rich holidaymakers ever got to see; these were the corridors of power, as the ancient saying went; these were the true areas of Space City, somehow more honest than the brightly-lit spacious rooms outside. This area was the real Terra Nostra. Gartoll hurried rapidly along the corridors, Criallis' offer hovering in the front of his mind. The Terra Nostra's command structure, such as it was, consisted of a vast number of Magnates all obeying a chairman, and Gartoll had worked for one such Magnate called Veston for ten years. With no bonuses whatsoever, the rebellious part of his mind reminded him. And then Magnate Criallis had approached him with a simple suggestion... "Assistant Gartoll to see Magnate Veston," he said nervously to the two guards, one on either side of the door. The gun weighed heavily in his pocket. "Certainly," the first guard replied, touching the door control and watching it slide open. Gartoll sighed, relieved; he had hoped that his authority as Veston's second-in-command would get him past the guards, but he hadn't been sure. The room beyond was twilight, typical for Veston. An example of one of the few intelligent alien races that the Federation hadn't exterminated on first contact, Veston was a Tryconnan. Gartoll, as always, prepared himself not to be sick. "Ah, Gartoll," the gurgling voice noted. "How nice to see you again." The hulking green bulk of the slug-like Veston was nestling in a massive bowl-like chair. Veston was about six feet high, but nowhere near humanoid; more like a kind of gigantic slug, with eyes on stalks that waved about disconcertingly as you spoke to him. His skin slurped and slithered even more distractingly, wet and slimy from the constant sprays of water that were coming from overhead. Sitting nearby, reminding Gartoll of the rumours about Veston's sick preoccupation with human females, was a blonde girl wearing a skimpy bikini. "What information do you have for me?" Veston rumbled. "Magnate Criallis says no deal," Gartoll said nervously. "He wishes to keep the Iclaxis constellation for himself and thus maintains that he has right of ownership over the planet of Gauda Prime when it rejoins lawful society." "He does, does he?" Veston said thoughtfully. "We shall see. Is there anything else?" "Yes," Gartoll said simply, reaching beneath his jacket and pulling out his gun. Three blasts sounded in the dark room. Gartoll felt his life-blood burbling away into the darkness. His legs turned weak and he fell to his knees, feeling blood bubble up in his throat until he could no longer control it. He coughed and sprayed blood over the floor. "Failed..." he choked. "It happens to all of your kind, sooner or later," he heard Veston say with a deep scorn the Tryconnan's voice had never contained before. Gartoll felt bitter, then ashamed. Then he felt nothing at all. "Well done, my dear," Veston rumbled. "It seems the intelligence received from that spy of yours was absolutely accurate. Criallis did make a deal with Gartoll." "Apparently," the girl observed. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to change out of these ridiculous clothes. It's all very well pretending to be a concubine for a short time, but I think I'd die of pneumonia if I wanted a career out of it." "By all means," Veston said graciously. Soolin nodded coolly and headed for the exit. : Disentastra : Same time...different place The water was rising again, Fasique observed as she swam rhythmically along towards her destination with powerful strokes. Probably more of the polar caps had melted, but it didn't really matter to her. The vegetation around her would adapt, though the buildings wouldn't. Still, she didn't care much for the buildings. Once, the Disentastrans had been enthusiastic members of the Federation, sending their young men to fight in alien wars, sending their tithes to help the less advanced colonies. Then a Federation science team had reported Disentastra suitable for an ecological experiment. Which went wrong. Fasique pulled herself out of the water and looked across the bayou. She didn't bother with anything like drying herself; up above, Disentastra's sun was burning down brightly. It would dry her soon enough. For the same reason, Disentastran natives did not bother with much beyond basic swimming costumes these days. It was difficult to see a reason to wear clothing on a planet where the water level was now forty feet higher than before. The bayou had once been a square in Central City on Disentastra, but now it was overgrown and filled with vegetation. The chirruping of some unidentified bird could be heard across the swampy water, having built a nest in what had once been an upstairs window of an administrator's office. A lyqua - a reptile not unlike an Earth iguana - was sunning itself on a flat rock which looked like it had once belonged to the wall of somewhere. It probably had. Fasique, barefoot, stalked rapidly across the ground, her toes sinking into the mud as she walked and then coming free with wet sucking sounds, dirtying her feet. She didn't care; they would come clean when she next dived back into the water, which she was growing to love. Like many Disentastrans, Fasique was spending a lot of time swimming these days. The water was so much cooler than the tropical heat of the air. She reached the top of the building. It had been a three-storey science laboratory in the days before the experiments with the planet's ozone layer had begun. Now it was barely one storey, the other two sunk deep into the mud and water which covered Disentastra's surface. She could smell the lichen clinging to the walls. Fasique knocked loudly on the door, insistently. She waited impatiently, bouncing on the balls of her feet and looking around. There were footsteps on the other side of the door, slow and measured; most ordinary humans or Disentastrans would not have heard them, but Fasique had better-than-average hearing for her peers. She stopped bouncing and turned back towards the door as it opened. "There are people here to see you," she said as the door opened. Tarrant frowned. "Who are they?" From Becky.Smith@k12.uen.gen.ut.us Thu Dec 28 18:29:53 1995 Date: Thu, 28 Dec 1995 10:29:43 -0700 (MST) From: Becky Smith To: calle@lysator.liu.se Subject: Remembrance Part Two (fwd) MIME-Version: 1.0 Content-Type: TEXT/PLAIN; charset=US-ASCII ---------- Forwarded message ---------- From: jpc269@lulu.acns.nwu.edu Subject: Remembrance Part 2 To: blake7@lysator.liu.se Date: Mon, 27 Feb 1995 14:27:54 -0600 (CST) Remembrance Part 2 By: Jason Compton : A cabin on the cruise liner *Magellan* Well, not so much a cabin as a cubicle, really. Space is always at a premium on cruise liners, and when you've got no steady income and your nerves are shot, it's tough to pay for the luxury accomodations. But work is always available, if you know where to look, and having friends-or at least, acquaintances that tolerate you-is helpful. Vila didn't so much sit on the edge of the bed-it was more like huddling. That Gartoll character left a good three hours ago, and still no signal. Not that he doubted Soolin-he wasn't sure he was even right to begin with. Beep beep beep. Ah, there she was. Vila flipped on the viewscreen of the terminal built into the wall at what should have been the headrest of the bed. No audio, no video, just his previous and updated bank balances. So, he was right. It's amazing the sort of things people let slip when faced with a superior drinking companion, Vila mused. Now, of course, his next project was to convert that bank balance into hard currency, and, if he was particularly lucky, maybe even see Soolin in the flesh. "Come to think of it, I still haven't actually SEEN her. But it sounded like her. Especially when she insulted me. It must have been her." Vila didn't really address anyone in particular, but now that the beeps had broken the long silence, he saw no reason to return to it. Vila flipped off the viewscreen. With the tension gone, he decided it was time for a little stroll. - - - - : Disentastra, Public Works Office He didn't really want the girl to answer. The way she phrased it made the prospect of visitors ominous enough. Clearly, the "people here to see him" weren't of the local variety-he was familiar enough with everyone in Central City that she may as well have identified them. So, who was it? Federation? Maybe they'd found him out after all, and choosing an abandoned world to hide on wasn't exactly the best policy available. A foreign government offering aid? Hardly likely. Someone else? All of this shot through Tarrant's mind in an instant. Despite his leg braces, he felt on the verge of collapsing. Fasique, after what seemed to be a lifetime, answered. "They wouldn't identify themselves. But they asked for you by your first name-your real first name-so I thought it was important." Tarrant let out an audible sigh. Whoever it was, they knew him pretty well, or were at least able to do a good job of deciphering the limited clues as to his identity. "Well, what did they look like?" As he waited for her answer, he bent over and began idly fiddling with the settings on his leg braces. Damn things. "It was a man and a woman. They looked...local, but overdressed. They weren't sweating, though. The woman was carrying a large clear plastic box with junk inside." Tarrant nearly fell over-but the leg braces wouldn't let him. Orac! - - - - - - : Central City harbor NOW it was starting to feel hot. Calin wanted to jump into the water-it looked very inviting. But she didn't come prepared for swimming, and wasn't very comfortable with the idea of stripping in front of the locals...and the computer would probably just make fun of her anyway. Why had she let herself get dragged into this? And why did she take Alon with? Actually, the answer to the second question was easy-she wanted someone to back her up in case this turned out to be a wild goose chase, or even worse, a trap. Calin slapped the tiny button on the top of the scratched-up plexiglass box. "Your friend isn't here yet. You think there's a problem?" As he whirred to reply, Orac got that familiar "feeling" of being annoyed. "Of course there isn't a problem. Del Tarrant is here, acting as a high-level administrator for this city. He will undoubtedly discover from his informant that I am here, and he will come." Alon, who had been dangling his feet in the water for the length of the conversation, his pilfered sandals tossed to the side, whirled on the machine. "Damned sure of yourself, aren't you?" "Yes." "What makes you think we won't just dump you in the water here? Or sell you for parts?" "If you were going to do such a thing, you would have done so long ago. I have ascertained that it is in neither of your natures to do such a thing." Well, he was right. After all, they both came to Gauda Prime to, in some small way, to be "upstanding citizens", law having been restored to the planet over half a year earlier. And someone in need was someone in need, even if the someone in question was an arrogant box of bolts. Fortunately for the group, the sun was beginning to decline. But Calin still wanted a swim. From Becky.Smith@k12.uen.gen.ut.us Thu Dec 28 18:31:06 1995 Date: Thu, 28 Dec 1995 10:30:55 -0700 (MST) From: Becky Smith To: calle@lysator.liu.se Subject: Remembrance Part Three (fwd) MIME-Version: 1.0 Content-Type: TEXT/PLAIN; charset=US-ASCII ---------- Forwarded message ---------- Date: Fri, 03 Mar 1995 02:10:21 EST From: "Playing solitaire 'til dawn with a deck of 51" To: blake7@lysator.liu.se Subject: "Remembrance" (RR part 3) Remembrance (Part 3) by Robin Henry : Gauda Prime : 9 months earlier Landing procedure complete. Primary coil off-line. Awaiting further instructions. >>>INITIATE SELF-DESTRUCT SEQUENCE. PRIORITY RED : AUTHORISATION 4247ndy432-ORAC;5335/71gka-ORAC1. Authorisation received and confirmed. Self-destruct sequence beginning now. Self-destruct will occur in five minutes. Four minutes fifty seconds. Four minutes thirty... A man carrying a clear box filled with flashing lights ran away from the flyer, staggering a little. A few minutes later, he dropped to the ground and covered his head with one arm. His other arm curled possessively around the box as the air was ripped apart by an explosion from the direction of the flyer. As soon as it was apparent that he was safe from falling debris, the man picked himself and the box up--rather painfully--and resumed running. Perhaps that would put them off his track. : Disentastra : Present Tarrant stared at Fasique as his mind raced. "What do they look like?" he asked again, moving stiffly toward her to grasp her shoulders. "Details, specifics. Is the woman blond or dark-skinned?" Fasique took his wrists and firmly removed his hands. "Neither. She has short red hair and brown eyes. She's a little shorter than I am." Fasique herself was nearly on eye-level with Tarrant. "And him?" "He's blond. About your height. Why?" Tarrant didn't know whether to be relieved or disappointed. "I don't know them. But the box and I go way back." Fasique frowned. "The question is," Tarrant continued, thinking out loud, "what is it doing here?" "Your visitors didn't say. Do you want to meet them?" "I think I have to." Tarrant turned away from Fasique and walked slowly to a window. The glass had been lost to an erratic hurricane months ago, and the sound of water lapping at the building was constant and peaceful. "Are you going to tell me what this is about?" Fasique's voice was distant, slightly accusatory. Since she had pulled Tarrant out of the wreckage of a battered planet-hopper five months ago, more out of curiosity than anything else, he had never volunteered more than his name and the fact that he was hiding from the Federation. For a Disentastran who was watching her planet sink slowly into a Federation-created swamp, that had been enough to convince her to find him a place to hide and recover. Both his legs had been snapped in the crash, which she gathered had not been his first. They were healing--in a couple of weeks, she would remove the braces and Tarrant would start rebuilding their strength. But Fasique had always been curious about his past, naturally. She had gathered he had once had companions, but he had lost them--she suspected they were dead. Tarrant had been reluctant to commit himself one way or the other. Now it seemed that he had thought--hoped?--two of them had arrived with this mysterious box, which he spoke of as if it were a person. After five months of patient ignorance, Fasique felt she was entitled to know what was going on. Tarrant looked back at her, leaning against the wall next to him for support. "It's a very long story. Maybe we should hear what these people have to say before I start trying to explain it." : Iclaxis Headquarters : Magnate Criallis' office Magnate Criallis smiled, an unsettling sight for the faint-hearted. "Veston, a pleasure to speak with you as always. My mind's made up, though. I'm not letting go of Gauda Prime, and that's all there is to be said." Magnate Veston shifted in his chair, and the resulting bubbles and slurps were audible even over the viewscreen. Criallis, he noted, hid his disappointment at seeing him alive well. Except for the smile. Criallis only smiled when he was seething with rage. "So I understood from my aide Gartoll. However, I wanted to confirm it with you personally. I'm giving you a chance to get rid of it before the Federation resettlement colonies wipe out all illegal activity. I would think that an enticing offer if I were you." "Veston," Criallis said, leaning back in his chair and grinning hugely, "so would I if you weren't so blatantly eager to get your eyestalks on it. In light of your interest, I'm rethinking my strategies for that planet." *You do that,* thought Veston. He said, "Well, if you think better of it and do decide to take up my offer, have Mirtala contact my aide Larris." "Larris? I don't think I've encountered him before." Criallis sounded only mildly interested. "Alas, Gartoll is no longfer with me. He's...passed on to other things." Veston nodded in a conspiratorial way. Criallis' smile threatened to engulf the lower half of his face. "I look forward to hearing from you, Criallis," Veston said just before breaking off communication. Criallis' smile mutated into a snarl. *That incompetent fool Gartoll,* he thought. Well, he'd have to risk one of his own people. As it so happened, he had the perfect person for the job--someone who owed him a favor or two for recognizing her potential and rescuing her from the very planet now under contention. Veston's tastes for human women were well known. She would be able to get even closer to him than Gartoll had. Criallis sent for her. "Ah, Dayna," he purred as she entered, "I have a little job for you." :Disentastra Calin and Alon shipped the oars of the makeshift dinghy as Fasique pulled herself from the water. Calin, more hot and sweaty than ever, watched Fasique with envious eyes as the other woman slicked her wet hair back and helped them from the boat. It was amazing how Alon didn't seem to notice the heat. "This way." Fasique led them to the door and knocked only once before it opened. Tarrant stood in the doorway, gaze flickering over the newcomers expectantly. Whatever he expected to find in them was apparently missing. When he caught sight of the familiar box Calin carried, he swayed forward slightly, on the verge of reaching for it. "Come in," he said, retreating to let them through. "You're Del Tarrant?" Alon asked once they were all inside. "Why don't you ask him?" Tarrant replied, pointing to the box. Calin pushed the switch into place and Orac's humming filled the air. "The voiceprints are identical," the computer announced. "I was correct." "You're as modest as ever, Orac," Tarrant said, almost smiling. "My programming has not changed," Orac answered. "And who are you?" Tarrant turned his attention abruptly to Orac's companions. "My name is Calin Waln. This is Rek Alon. We're part of the Federation resettlement program on Gauda Prime." "We were," Alon put in. "What resettlement program?" Tarrant asked in surprise. "Last time I was there, it was full of thieves and killers." "The Federation is trying to change that. They're transporting people to Gauda Prime and setting them up there for free. The only catch is that you have to work at capturing the thieves and killers for the first six months. If you survive, you're allowed to stay." "Of course, they only tell you about the catch once you arrive," Alon said. "If you want out, you have to find someone to take you home." Tarrant shook his head. This was all unimportant. "Where did you get Orac?" he asked. "Found it," Alon answered. "We were following a set of tracks, but whoever had left them had already been picked up by a flyer. We were lucky we kept looking around after we saw the landing marks. Looked like it had been hidden in a hurry." "And why did you bring it to me?" Alon pulled the activator switch off before Orac had a chance to respond. "How much is it worth to you?" Tarrant rolled his eyes, spread his hands. "How much does it look like I have?" "That thing convinced us to come looking for you." Alon was on the verge of whining. "It told us you'd make it worth our while. We're not too popular with the Federation right now, after sneaking off Gauda Prime." "That sounds like your problem." Tarrant shifted his weight back and forth. Standing for any length of time made the leg braces particularly uncomfortable. "Maybe if you let Orac tell me what he thinks I have to give you..." "Maybe we should take it to he Federation and buy our way back into their good graces," Alon said. "Calin, I told you this was going to be a waste of time." She sighed, feeling the heat all the more acutely in her frustration. "All right, Alon. Let's go." "I'm sorry, but I don't think so." Calin and Alon looked at Tarrant in surprise and wondered where he had been hiding the small gun. "You may have noticed that I'm none too keen on being found by the Federation myself. And I've spent too much time trying to keep that box out of their hands to let you walk out of here and sell it to them." He nodded at Calin. "Put it down." Alon was fast, but not fast enough. Tarrant's gun made a short, high whine and Alon crumpled, his own gun dropping from his limp fingers. Tarrant's eyes bored into Calin's. "Let's be reasonable about this now," he said. "Put Orac down." Fasique, who had been watching silently all this time, advanced and put her hands out to take the computer. Calin dropped it. It was a tribute to Fasique's reflexes that she managed to break Orac's fall at all; the box glanced off her arms and slid to the floor rather than plunging the entire way. Nevertheless, the jarring crack of the impact sounded loud in Tarrant's ears as he tracked Calin's flight to the glassless window. She had one foot on the sill when his gun whined again. She fell forward through the window, into the water. So Calin got her swim after all. Tarrant's face showed a momentary regret, but it was quickly replacd by concern as he turned back to Fasique and Orac. "Is it all right?" he asked. "Oh, it's fine. My arms are killing me, though." Fasique rubbed them where Orac had struck them with a hard edge. "Turn it on. Where's the switch?" Fasique watched in mounting amazement and anger as Tarrant carefully bent over Alon's body and fumbled at the other man's pockets, ignoring her entirely. He found the switch and tried to pivot on his stiff legs to face Orac. He almost ended up flat on the floor. Then he regained his balance and slapped the switch into place. "Orac? Are you all right?" The computer continued to hum, but there was no reply. : Space City : Docking Bay 14 "All right, it's all there." Criallis' agent finished his inventory and put his thumbprint to the computer screen in confirmation. He turned to the pilot. "Your account will be updated within half an hour. Your next assignment will be given to you then." "How long will it take to unload?" "Three, four hours. But you'll want to rest before heading out again, no doubt." "Not here." The pilot looked around the docking bay, manging somehow to include all of Space City in the gesture. "I prefer to be on my ship." "It's not *your* ship. And our people are going to look it over for general maintenance. That will take at least twelve hours in itself. You might as well make yourself comfortable here for at least that long." The pilot glared at the agent for a moment before turning a softer look on the ship. Scarred and dingy as she was from her innumerable runs across the galaxy, the ship was nevertheless reliable and safe, and the pilot had already grown quite attached to her. "Twelve hours." The pilot stalked out of the docking bay in search of a bed and a meal, not necessarily in that order. Vila had been very comfortably curled up in one of Space City's City's many bars enjoying his new bank account when Soolin had buzzed him. "What?" he said when her face appeared on the private viewscreen for which he'd had to pay extra to use. Well, he thought, it was worth it to catch a glimpse of Soolin again, even if she was out of focus. He tried adjusting the viewscreen, but it didn't seem to help. "Something you'll enjoy doing." "Finishing my drink?" "More money. Put your drink down." Vila put it down carefully. "I'm listening." "A smuggler ship just arrived in Docking Bay Fourteen. We need to know what's in the boxes in her hold. Do you understand what I'm getting at?" "Of course. You want me to walk into a docking bay that's probably guarded, break into an illegal spaceship, and open its illicit cargo. I'm not suicidal, Soolin." "Then you'll do it." Vila took a couple seconds to think that one over. "Ah. Fourteen, did you say?" Vila slipped through the mostly empty back corridors toward the docking bays. He didn't like it back here; he felt exposed, even more vulnerable than usual. He took a deep breath and concentrated on the money involved. In fact, he was concentrating so hard that when he rounded a corner and bumped into someone, it took a few seconds to recognize the person, who stared back at him, reflecting his look of utter disbelief. "Jenna?" From Becky.Smith@k12.uen.gen.ut.us Thu Dec 28 18:32:38 1995 Date: Thu, 28 Dec 1995 10:32:24 -0700 (MST) From: Becky Smith To: calle@lysator.liu.se Subject: Remembrance Part Four (fwd) MIME-Version: 1.0 Content-Type: TEXT/PLAIN; charset=US-ASCII ---------- Forwarded message ---------- Date: Tue Mar 7 20:29:50 1995 From: michael brown Subject: "Remembrance": Part 4 To: Blake7 List "Remembrance" Part 4 by Michael Brown :Space City The simulated dawn was coming into being as the woman stepped from the transport ship onto the deck of the city's spaceport. The other passengers who had been on the transport had thronged to the door and passed into the city proper bent on whatever business had brought them here. The woman glanced around, and noticed trash was piled here and there along the edge of the spaceport walls. She smelled... she shuddered to think of what it was she had smelled. Better to get the job over and done with and go back to a living planet instead of this plastic man made hole. She wandered through the outer sectors looking for the lead-in's to the inner parts of the city where the roistering crowds never passed. As she walked she noticed the people watching her. They were good, set back in small crevices they moved only a little but missed nothing. No spy cameras here, better to trust your own eyes and ears here. She wished her new employer hadn't sent her on this particular job, she had no desire to come to this awful place and face Vestron's new hired lackey. Though there were rumors to the effect that the new gun hand had deserted...She shook that off because she knew that few people deserted from the Organization and fewer still lived to tell the tale. As she continued along the corridor she noticed that everything was still, but she could feel the eyes on her. She knew that she had drawn attention from the right quarters because the local welcome wagon arrived sooner than she had expected. A voice snapped, "You there, woman! Don't move." As nonchalantly as she could, Dayna turned to face the speaker. :Prison Stockade, Gauda Prime Garrison. "Damm this mist," grumbled Sergeant Zaxtry. "If it weren't for the bloody heat and motion detectors we wouldn't know if an entire army had snuck up and surrounded this entire camp." "Will you please stop that nonsense Sergeant," said Captain McMurry as the two men paced the outer perimeter of the fencewire compound. "You know as well as I do that no one on this vermin ridden planet has the resources to create an army. Even if they did, do you really think an army of cut-throats and thieves could maintain an alliance long enough to threaten us?" "They would if they thought they had something to gain, Sir." "And just what will they gain if they attack us, Sergeant? An encampment full of more thieves and cut-throats." "The Federation doesn't want to occupy this world in the first place and the destruction of our garrison could provide the council with just the excuse they are looking for to pull out. Then the scum could go back to running this place like they did in the days before we came here." "Really Sergeant, everyone on this world knows that this garrison was placed her by Commissioner Sleer herself, and that if it were destroyed she would sent even more troops to find out why." "Wouldn't matter much to us then, Captain. We'd already be dead and buried." "Well Sergeant, I wouldn't worry, as long as the Colonel has that new man monitoring the computer and automatic perimeter defenses I don't think anyone will sneak up on us here. He might be a criminal, but he's the best man with a computer I have seen in all my years of service." "Yeah, well I think I would trust that one about as much as the other scum around here; no farther than I could throw them on a heavy gravity world. And all the electronic devices in the universe won't save us if one of our own sells us out. There's a lot of money floating around out there. And most of these 'troops' are kids right from the draft camps." "Just full of good cheer this morning aren't you, Sergeant." "Not much here to be cheery about, Sir." :CO's Office, Gauda Prime Garrison "Listen to me, can you, or can you not install the systems to specification in the time required?" barked Colonel Kinney. "Of course I can," said the prisoner calmly, "but if you could give me a few more hours I could get them 25% above the standard specifications." The Colonel eyed the prisoner with something akin to loathing. He thought that any man who would sell out his fellows deserved to be in a place like this. Unfortunately, this one was too useful for the Colonel to deal with him in the standard way. This quisling had helped to immensely improve the garrison's defenses, sold out his fellow prisoners' escape attempts and been a model prisoner as far as the guards were concerned. The man had earned special privileges that the ordinary prisoners would give their lives for. And all because he was willing to sell out anyone, but this of course made him doubly dangerous, because he was also working for the garrison and there was the very real possibility that he would sell out to whoever wanted information or plans to the facility. But over the years the Colonel had learned the lesson and learned it well. To keep your friends close and your enemies closer. He knew it was much too dangerous to let this man roam free with all the information he no doubt carried. The Colonel considered all this as he framed his reply. "All right, you can have the extra time," growled Kinney, "see that you don't waste it. Guards! escort the prisoner to Specialist Stroll." The prisoner smiled in that most aggravating of ways... it was a smile that mocked you and all you stood for. It took all the Colonel's control not to have him dragged back in and executed on the spot. And as Avon left the room, his smile got wider still. From Becky.Smith@k12.uen.gen.ut.us Thu Dec 28 18:33:53 1995 Date: Thu, 28 Dec 1995 10:33:38 -0700 (MST) From: Becky Smith To: calle@lysator.liu.se Subject: Remembrance Part Five (fwd) MIME-Version: 1.0 Content-Type: TEXT/PLAIN; charset=US-ASCII ---------- Forwarded message ---------- Date: Tue Mar 14 17:13:00 1995 From: rdm@cix.compulink.co.uk (Richard Mattocks) Subject: "Remembrance" - (Part 5) To: blake7@lysator.liu.se Ok, here it is, for better or worse.. Remembrance - (Part 5) By Richard Mattocks : Disentastra Tarrant didn't know whether to laugh or cry. On the one hand he'd managed to get his hands on the single most powerful computer ever devised, but on the other he'd allowed it to get damaged by two second-rate blackmailing extortionists. He leaned over and removed the plexiglass lid of ORAC and started to examine the circuitry, trying to see if there was a fault he could locate and repair. *Repair, *, he thought, *who am I trying to kid ? I don't know the first thing about computers*. As he sat studying the complex web of electrical interconnections he stopped, "Surely", he mumbled to himself, "these circuits were damaged a moment ago." As he watched, wires moved of their own accord around the interior of ORAC's casing, lights pulsed and the air filled with the smell of an ion laser, before suddenly.... a voice. "This is typical" said the computer. Tarrant felt that it was the nicest thing he had ever heard ORAC say. The sheer relief of knowing that it wasn't smashed overrode all his feelings of irritation. "Orac, are you all right ?" "My function is restored to 97.53 per cent, which is satisfactory considering the intolerable way in which I have been treated." Tarrant started to have second thoughts about his feelings. He considered kicking the living quartz out of the arrogant pile of junk. "All right Orac, I'm sorry for letting you get damaged, now will you please explain what the hell is going on." "Very well." Tarrant sat back and listened. : Gauda Prime, : Main Garrison Surveillance Centre. Avon sat working earnestly at the console, it had been years since he had had to use his skills in this way, but it was good to know that the years had not dulled his ability. Still, if the years had not dulled them, the ambush nearly ended them for good. After ORAC had activated the self-destruct on the flyer he had - so he thought - dropped out of sight. He had been mistaken. It had all happened so quickly. One minute he had been moving through the undergrowth, trying to get back to the shack where he had found Vila and the others that first day - the next there was a noise to his left, he had turned and taken the full force of the bounty hunters' staser. For an instant pain wracked his whole body before he collapsed onto the ground and then an all engulfing blackness. When he had awakened he was in a prison cell. But that was months ago. Now he was finally in a position to start his planning in earnest, ORAC, he knew was no longer on the planet. It had been found by two settlers and carried off. That had been part of the plan - such as it was. So far, so good. The most dangerous part, he thought, was not to arouse any suspicion and he had already done that, just by being as good with computers as he was. Should he make his move now ? No, far better to keep up the illusion of working for the garrison commander and bide his time, ORAC would get to Tarrant, after that his life was in their hands. Avon stopped his work and considered all the times he had saved the lives of the Liberator and then the Scorpio crews. Would they now repay the debt, or would they leave him to rot ? For all his supposed intelligence, he didn't know for certain: He just hoped. : Space City. : Docking Bay 14 Access Corridor Vila stood, speechless for fully 10 seconds - something that only total inebriation or an Avon level quip usually managed, and stared into the eyes of Jenna. "What are you doing here", he hissed. "ME, what about YOU" she retorted. Before he could reply she pulled him into a recess and spoke quickly. "Look, it's not safe for either of us to talk here, do you know anywhere...?" Vila stood for a moment, too stunned to speak, then he gathered himself together, "There's my living quarters, Suite 163. It's not monitored. That's as safe as it gets round here" "All right. Be there in one hour." And she was gone, leaving Vila with the feeling that events were rapidly overtaking him. Vila moved towards the main bay door. As he walked people pushed past him eager to get to wherever they were going. In Space City you did everything for a reason, there never seemed to be any truly 'spare' time for any of the day-to-day inhabitants. For the visitors it was a different matter, everything was laid on for their pleasure and convenience. But if you worked on SC., you had better pull your weight, or you could find yourself in a lot of trouble. And here that meant only one thing ..... DEATH. : Space City. : Docking Bay 14 Activity. People and boxes were all over the bay, *So much the better* thought Vila as he waited his chance, the shadows of the main hatchway hiding him from view. *At least I won't have to break into the ship first*. Suddenly a fight broke out amongst the shifters that were working on the main cargo loader. Apparently Chez had been seeing Bandar's girl on the side and Bandar was non too pleased about it now he had found out. The two men sized each other up and the fight began. As it progressed, the other shifters stopped what they were doing and moved over to watch. Bets were placed for both sides and now the fight was on. Vila took full use of this opportunity. He only needed a few moments to do what he came for. It only needed for the attention of ALL the shifters to be on the two fighters and then he could move. Bandar grabbed a convenient spanner that was lying on a nearby crate and connected it with Chez's left shoulder, Vila winced as Chez went down, the arm limp and useless. The assembled crowd cheered. Now was his chance. He sprinted across the bay until he reached the other side. There was a box right next to the wall. He examined the lock, *Huh, not much of a challenge* he thought as he tapped the lock gently on first one edge and then another, before finally pressing the release stud. It opened. Vila peered inside and then wished he hadn't. Now he knew the reason for Soolin's employers concern. If the rest of the cargo was what he thought it was, then they were all in a lot of trouble. He just hoped Soolin could keep him alive for long enough to see it sorted out. The fight was ending now, Chez had his good arm round Bandar's neck, there was the sound of splintering bone. Bandar went limp. Vila moved quietly off, back to his quarters to report. Behind him, the sounds of cheering could still be heard. He would never understand these people, death seemed to be just another sport to them. : Gauda Prime : Main Garrison Surveillance Centre The room was dark - some would describe it as mournful - which suited Avon's mood of the moment. There was a noise from the corridor and he wheeled round. "Ah, there you are. Still working on those detectors I hope", Colonel Kinney's voice had a slightly threatening edge to it. "Naturally. The modifications are complete, I've just the final circuit checks to do, and then the system will be ready. It should go live in a couple of hours". "Excellent", Kinney could hardly contain his pleasure. "The Federation will be most pleased if we can maintain the full rule of law here". "I'm sure", replied Avon, "Now if you will excuse me, I must continue with the checks". "Of course." And with that Avon left the room and made his way to the main computer room. : Gauda Prime. : Main Computer Room. *Yes, everything was ready*, Avon eyed the controls with a touch of concern. If the commander found out what he was doing then his only hope could be that death would be quick. *The thing about A-line converters* mused Avon, *is that they have an additional backup frequency generator* - not a lot of people knew that, only himself, the chief of the design team and Tynus. Tynus was dead, and the chief of the design team was now such a high powered politico' that the last thing on his mind would be the misuse of his invention - especially since the war. As Avon watched the A-Line diagnostic display a slight power blip could be seen every 20 cycles - a side effect of the additional power drain as the secondary kicked in - that was all that could be seen. The only clue. Now he must wait. : Space City : Vila's Living Quarters. A Box. Not a big box, but a medium sized, Cuboid, Black Box. Where had it come from ? Who had delivered it ? What did it contain ? Vila knew he could answer the last question with ease, but he didn't want to know. Right now he could do without strange boxes, delivered by people the door computer couldn't (or wouldn't) identify. It was worrying. He was pulled away from this train of thought by the sound of the door computer's entry request chime. "Entry Accepted" he called to the door, which opened obediently. Jenna stepped quickly through, and stood admiring the room. "Well, you seem to have done aright for yourself" she commented. Vila made an almost imperceptible motion for her be silent and moved over to the viewscreen. He pulled a small device - about the size of a pocket calculator - from his jacket and inserted it into the slot usually reserved for the pay-card. The lights dimmed momentarily and then regained full power. "Signal Scrambler. Handy little gadget for these occasions." Jenna sat down at the table. Vila perched on the edge of the bed, his back to the door. "So tell me" she said. "There's nothing to tell.. Well not much anyway. We lost the Liberator, found a new ship, took on an entire planet's security force and lost. Pretty average really". Jenna didn't know how to receive this information. She tried being suprised, then confused, and finally settled on being impatient. "No, I mean how did you end up here". "Ahh, that's a long story. It would take too long to tell you all that I know - and that's not much - but basically I do odd jobs for a lady working undercover as Veston's Porcupine". "Porcupine ?" asked Jenna more confused than before. "Well, something like that, she's dangerous if you try to get too close to her, and prickly to the touch". "I see", she mused, "and Veston ?" "Oh, he's the local big-wig with the T.N. I just do a little snooping here and there. I was just off to check up on a cargo when I met you tonight" "Really ?" "Oh yes", Vila was getting reckless, "apparently a smugglers ship just touched down, and you wouldn't believe what the cargo is..." From behind him came a cough, they spun round and found themselves staring into the barrel of Soolin's Rifle. "Ah". Vila's mouth went dry. This was tricky. "Soolin. Let me introduce you to a friend of mine from way back. This is Jenna.", he motioned toward her, "And Jenna, this is Soolin, I mentioned her earlier." The two women glared first at each other and then at Vila. From Becky.Smith@k12.uen.gen.ut.us Thu Dec 28 18:35:09 1995 Date: Thu, 28 Dec 1995 10:34:54 -0700 (MST) From: Becky Smith To: calle@lysator.liu.se Subject: Remembrance Part Six (fwd) MIME-Version: 1.0 Content-Type: TEXT/PLAIN; charset=US-ASCII ---------- Forwarded message ---------- From: Nick Barlow To: blake7@lysator.liu.se Date: Mon, 20 Mar 1995 14:45:20 GMT0BST Subject: "Rememberance" - Part 6 ************ Rememberance Part 6 by Nick Barlow :Space City Vila had looked down the barrels of enough guns to know that he didn't find it an enjoyable experience at all. Despite the fact that Soolin was at the end of this barrel, this time was no more pleasant than any of the other times. "Soolin, would you mid pointing that in some other direction? It makes me feel even more insecure than normal." She lowered the rifle slightly, pointing it at the floor but still holding it ready. "Vila, if you're going to tell your life story to every 'old friend' you come across then you're going to have to expect to end up in this sort of position." Jenna coughed and both Vila and Soolin looked at her. "Do I get to say anything here?" "No." said Soolin. "Look, we obviously haven't started off in the right way here." Vila interjected. "Soolin, why don't you leave the room for a minute, I'll makes some drinks, then you can come in and we'll be much more relaxed." Soolin glared at him and Vila wilted. "This isn't a game, Vila." She started to say something else when the tension was broken by the communicator on her belt bleeping. She picked it up and held it to her ear for a moment before replacing it. "Veston wants me." she said. "Wait here and don't go anywhere and we'll continue this when I get back." With that she left the room. "Nice friends you've got." said Jenna. :Gauda Prime :9 Months Earlier "I never thought it would work, Rendall. There's no way you could capture them alive." "Well, you should have said that to the Commissioner, then, shouldn't you?" "What would be the point? She never listens to anyone else - especially when it's anything to do with that lot." "Look, we both know that this messed up. Now, before she gets here and has us sent back to Earth on the outside of a Pursuit Ship, lets get out there and find them - they can't have got too far." He kicked the body at his feet, wiping some of the blood off his boot in the process, "especially this one." :Disentastra :Present "I can understand you wanting to leave," Fasique said, "and I can understand you not wanting to tell me what that box told you. But, please tell me why you cant just wait until your legs have healed more fully and I can remove the braces. Surely, another few days won't harm you." "I've already wasted nine months and it's time to start catching up with what I've missed," Tarrant replied, "I can't afford to waste any more time - too much is happening for me to wait and there are people who need me." "And that box is the key to it all?" "Not exactly, but it's the only way for me to get any information about what's actually happening." Fasique was silent for a moment. She turned away from Tarrant and looked out over the waters. "Right," she said, turning back round to face him, "Where are we going to?" Tarrant was too shocked to argue her decision. "Space City, for a start." he said, and started smiling. :Space Command Headquarters He knew that volunteering to work for Commissioner Sleer was not the most risk-free posting in Space Command but there was no other posting that offered such a chance of quick promotion. After all, he was already one of the youngest Captains in Space Command history. Now, though, standing at the receiving end of one of her famous stares, he wondered whether the risk had been worth it. At the moment, it seemed that his life expectancy could be measured in seconds. "Captain Rendall, I am not normally in the business of giving second chances but until your," she paused, and in the silence it sounded like his heartbeat was filling the room, "mistake on Gauda Prime you were by far the best officer in my staff. So, I give you one chance to make amends. You'll like it - it's the same mission you had then." "Where are they now?" "I do not know - finding it out is your job. The one called Vila was spotted on Space City a few months ago, but not even he would be stupid enough to stay there for this long a time. Remember - I want the important ones alive." "And the others?" "They are expendable, just like they were before." :Space City Criallis' plan was definitely not working. Dayna had been locked up in the same room for almost two days now, the door only opening every few hours for someone to thrust food in. She knew that she'd been identified by Veston's men as the voice that came with her food called her "Mellanby" and she'd carried no ID with her, at least none with that name. Siloently, she cursed Criallis for getting her into this mess. SHe owed him a lot, but never her life. *Veston must not need another hired gun, then* she thought, pacing up and down the room. It was a cell in effect but not in style, and she was thankful that the Terra Nostra had at least some idea of style. The screen in the corner of the room sparked into life. She dashed over and looked at a face of a man she didn't recognise. "Veston will see you now." he said. The door opened and she walked out of the room for the first time in two days wondering why Veston had taken so long to make a decision. Outside the door were two men with guns. They gestured to her to follow them. She did, her mind more concerned with wondering why Veston had taken so long to make up his mind about her. *He can't have discovered Criallis' plan* she thought *or they'd have just shot me on the spot back there.* She'd never seen a Tryconnan before and so Veston was a shock to her. Up until now, she had thought that the Terra Nostra had followed most of the Federation's path and excluded all non-humans from its ranks. She tried to hide her revulsion as Veston spoke to her. She noticed that the two guards who had escorted her were no longer there and that she was alone with Veston. For a moment she thought she might have her chance here but then her keen eyes noticed the miniature gun ports almost hidden in the walls and she thought better of it. "I apologise for keeping you so long, Miss Mellanby, but I had to find out the full details of who you were before I called you into my presence. And I must say that I'm very impressed by what I've heard." "Thank you." she said, struggling to understand Veston's rumbling voice and wondering where the conversation was leading. "Normally, I would offer someone like you employment instantly but I feel that I already have enough people with weapons experience working for me." She decided to push him. "I'm sure I'm better than them." "The reports were right about your pride. Well, that is why I have called you here. If you want to work for me, then you must pass a simple test. I know that many of you humans believe in a concept called 'the survival of the fittest' so I though I'd put it to the test. To be simple, you shall go into armed combat with my best weapons handler. The one of you that survives will be employed by me." It sounded too simple for her. She couldn't believe that Veston would have anyone in his employ that could challenge her with a gun. "Of course, if you don't want to take that risk..." "I will." she said, firmly. "Good, the test will begin immediately. There is a gun for you behind that door. My operative is there as well." Dayna walked over to the door, which opened automatically as she approached it. A small hand held gun waited for her and she picked it up. She looked around and saw that she was in a large dark chamber, illuminated only slightly by small strips of lights in the ceiling. She could just about see her prey on the far side of the room and she began circling it, gradually and silently to reach whoever it was. She moved into a patch of darkness as the prey strayed near a small pool of light. This was the chance. She raised the gun and aimed carefully, staring directly at her target. "Soolin?" From Becky.Smith@k12.uen.gen.ut.us Thu Dec 28 18:36:42 1995 Date: Thu, 28 Dec 1995 10:36:30 -0700 (MST) From: Becky Smith To: calle@lysator.liu.se Subject: Remembrance Part Seven (fwd) MIME-Version: 1.0 Content-Type: TEXT/PLAIN; charset=US-ASCII ---------- Forwarded message ---------- Date: Thu Mar 23 15:57:40 1995 From: Maria Enriquez Harris To: blake7@lysator.liu.se Subject: Remembrance Part 7 ************* "Remembrance": Part 7 by Pita Enriquez Harris :Space City Dayna lowered her gun momentarily when her rival stepped into the light but saw immediately that although Veston's operative had been audibly shaken by her outburst, the gun that was trained in her direction had not strayed for one instant from its position. Dayna's reflexes and marksmanship took over and her gun was again directed at its quarry. Both women appeared mesmerised, circling each other in the shadows, yet neither fired a shot. After a terrifying minute of silence, Dayna spoke. As much as she tried, she found it quite impossible to keep the fear from her voice. She knew well that Soolin was quite able to kill her. Why had she not done so? And yet the threat seemed by no means to be over. Instinct told her that every extra second alive increased her chances of remaining that way. "That _is_ you isn't it Soolin? Drop your gun!" she pleaded. The answer came back rapidly, a staccato volley of words that seemed completely unlike Soolin. "Drop yours! Drop it! Drop it now!" The tension between them soared to a new level. The fear in Soolin's voice had been palpable and infectious and Dayna began to feel horribly like a trapped animal which must choose to dismember itself in order to survive. To kill Soolin was unthinkable. To allow herself to die at Soolin's hand was equally so. Soolin tried desperately to order her thoughts coherently. There could be no doubt that the woman locked in the chamber with her was Dayna and that therefore Dayna was the assassin sent by Criallis - the very assassin whom she had been ordered to execute. As Soolin's designated target, her failure to kill the agent of Criallis would certainly carry a heavy price. She had not anticipated, however, that death itself would be her punishment in this case. Death at the hands of her own replacement - that was what Veston had planned for her. "You complete bastard, Veston", muttered Soolin quietly, "You said this was an execution, not some sick contest." "Put the gun down, Soolin". Dayna called out to her again but this time her tone was almost reasonable, almost calm. "Well, the thing is, Dayna, that I can't. You've been top of my list for quite some time now. I didn't know it was you, of course." "Of course" repeated Dayna as politely as she could. "Veston wants you dead rather badly. And he's a resourceful creature. A bit of a voyeur, too. That's one of his charms." Dayna said nothing, moving back into the shadows. There was something in Soolin's tone that was different now, something worrying. Dayna felt as though she was missing something very important. There was a brief silence as Soolin moved noiselessly along the wall of the chamber towards Dayna. "You know, I had a friend once. A colleague" said Soolin suddenly. Dayna froze. The voice came from behind her. She turned around slowly, to see Soolin standing not three metres away, her gun aimed directly at Dayna's head. "Tell me about your friend." "Really quite remarkable marksmanship, you know. She could shoot the earring right off your ear without so much as grazing the flesh." Here it was, Dayna felt certain. The cue for which she had been waiting. She played her hunch. "An ordinary earring? Or one of Servalan's?" she asked in as even a voice as she could manage. The barely audible chuckle confirmed Dayna's hopes. "An ordinary one. But let's pretend it was one of Servalan's." Veston smiled as he heard the shots ring out, the echoes thundering around the great chamber. After a few seconds, he looked at his monitor to see the crumpled bodies of both women. His eyes bugged slightly on their stalks. "Simultaneous destruction! Well matched talents, very impressive", he murmured with satisfaction. He leaned forward and pressed on his communicator. "Take them to separate quarters. Wait for them to revive. Then tell each that she has destroyed the other." The wait seemed endless but finally Dayna and Soolin heard the men approach and the doors to the room were opened. It was only when she saw that just two men had been sent that Soolin realised that she had been holding her breath and she tried desperately to release it silently. Not daring to budge until the men were upon them, Dayna and Soolin remained in the positions in which they had fallen. Soolin prayed that she would be picked up first. It was impossible to know how many of her oblique hints Dayna had understood and the fear that Dayna had still not realised that the room was watched was enough to knot Soolin's stomach. In the event, Dayna was picked up first but it appeared as though communications between the two friends had not lost any of their precision in the intervening months. Dayna played dead beautifully although Soolin observed that strangely, Veston's men made no attempt to verify the death or injury of either woman. Soolin allowed herself to be picked up and then unceremoniously slung over the shoulders of the other guard. Once in the corridor, Dayna and Soolin attacked their captors with swift, silent efficiency, strangling them until they fell to the floor on their knees, at which point Soolin dealt a swift kick to the head of her opponent, knocking him out cold. She then turned to help Dayna, whom she found was already disarming the limp body of the other man. " Something tells me that they didn't expect us to be dead" said Dayna thoughtfully. "We'd probably have found that our weapons didn't work, too", remarked Soolin. Dayna nodded. "Yes, I know. That's why I thought we'd take this one's gun. I doubt if Criallis wants me merely to stun Veston!" Soolin breathed out slowly. "I can't stop you. But there's almost no chance that we'll get out of here alive." "Don't stop me. Help me. This one has to go, Soolin. He's very bad news." "They're all bad news. This one pays my salary. I've grown rather attached him for that reason, silly as it is. Still, I doubt if he'll want to be friends after this, so I may as well help you as anyone." Then, as an aside, "Good shot by the way. If I had been wearing one of Servalan's earrings, it would still be out cold." Dayna managed a brief smile. Then, abruptly, she said "I've been working for Criallis because he controls GP. And he claims to have information about someone we both know, right there on Gauda Prime." A silence fell between them as Soolin considered this news. "A good paymaster is hard to find and loyalty is well rewarded here. But then again, we should remember that once in a while, for the good of the system, the status quo must suffer a challenge. So maybe poor old Veston has been in the game for too long. And he has the most disgusting way of oozing at me. Let's get the fat slug - I'll lead the way." :Space City :Vila's living quarters Vila drank a deep draught from the wine bottle and then tried to look earnestly at Jenna. After a few seconds, he gave up as he realised from Jenna's faintly amused expression that earnestness was somehow not what he was conveying here. Jenna drank from her own glass then and looked at him over the table, in a manner that Vila would have described as 'fond' if that word, he and Jenna could ever be associated. "You haven't changed a bit, have you Vila?" she said with a gentle smile. "Coming from you, that's probably an insult of some kind. Jus' give me a few minutes...and I'm sure I'll see it...hang on...." said Vila, feigning the slur of a man far drunker than he presently was. Then he smiled at his own joke and filled Jenna's glass. "And you, my dear Jenna, you don't seem to have changed either. Gone back to your criminal tendencies already. Sad. You had so much promise as hero of the revolution. Criminals...that's all we really were, isn't it? Without Blake. I dread to think what Cally would have thought." Vila sipped from the bottle again, appearing to drift away into his own thoughts. "'Would have'? Vila, what does that mean? 'Would have'...what happened?" Jenna shifted uncomfortably in her seat, fearing the worst. She knew well that Vila's courage to face the truth was a notable feature of his drunkenness. Vila moved to face Jenna and gazed calmly at her. "Cally? Dead. Ages ago. A stupid trap. Blake? Dead too. Another stupid trap and a horrible misunderstanding. Life expectancy among your old mates isn't what it might be, you know. There should be a health inquiry." He sniggered nastily. Jenna felt faintly sick. "Not funny, Vila." she said coldly. "No, you know what? You're right. It wasn't funny at all. You probably made the right choice, leaving when you did. Things changed a lot after you and Blake went. Avon wasn't half as funny in charge as he had been as Blake's chief critic." Jenna sighed in frustration. She decided to get Vila off this tack. "Tell me more about Dayna and Soolin. Soolin especially." Vila smiled dreamily. "Ah, the girls! Very special ladies. The loves of my life, really...except for you, that is..." he said with a grin. "How very sad for you Vila. Surely you must know _some_ women who don't think you're a fool." His expression clouded. "I did. I was stupid, left her. Biggest mistake of my entire life, that. " "We all make them." "Well, at least neither of us is in quite the same league as Avon there..." Jenna leaned forward curiously. "This I have to hear." :Gauda Prime :Computer Centre >>>FEDERATION INTERPLANETARY DATA SEARCH SYSTEMS REQUEST CONNECTION TO PRISONER AND PERSONNEL DATA FILES. Request security clearance code and password >>CODE MX1DS45 PASSWORD FATBOY >>Access permitted. Welcome, FIDSS >>DOWNLOADING ALL FILES. FILES DOWNLOADED. DELETE REMAINING COPIES. Security clearance level does not permit database sysop access >>CODE CLEARANCE CHANGE: PRIORITY RED: AUTHORIZATION 4247NDY432-ORAC. Access permitted . Welcome, "Orac" >>DELETE ALL DATA FILES. TRANSFER CORE HARD SYSTEM VIRUS FILE. TRANSFER CORE HARD SYSTEM VACCINE FILE. VACCINE PROGRAM ACCESS CODE 68ARISTO29. VACCINE DESIGNATED USER MUST MATCH VOICE AND HANDPRINT WITH PRISONER 144. Acknowledged >>ACCESS REMOTE COMMUNICATION LOG FILES FOR LAST 24 HOURS DELETE Deleted :Disentastra :Alkander Space Port Tarrant sat down gingerly to examine the arrival and departure data appearing on the small terminal on the desk. It crossed his mind then, as it had many times in the past few days, that his decision to remove his leg braces early had perhaps been unwise. What really troubled him, however, was the situation with Fasique. He had agreed to her accompanying him more by omission than by confirmation. The truth of the matter, as he was beginning to admit ruefully to himself, was that he needed her. Until the strength returned to his legs, a trip such as the one he planned which would almost certainly involve danger and violence, was not something that he felt comfortable about undertaking alone. He had vowed to himself that he would not allow Fasique herself to be harmed, that she would serve merely to cover him and to help him to pass more unobtrusively as a tourist. As he watched her moving amongst the throngs of businessmen and tourists as she went around the concourse trying to arrange their passage, he realised that with Fasique, he was in grave danger of breaking part of his own private code of conduct. Apart from the fact that he did enjoy her company, he was profoundly grateful to her for the immense favour she had done him by nursing him back to health. It was clear to him that her interest in him went beyond mere friendship. Indeed, he found her attentions most agreeable and had planned to engage in what he had hoped would be a highly enjoyable affair with her once he was healed. But to have her along with him, to share his dangers, to learn to live in fear for her life? To learn to kill or be killed and to trust only those who completely share your own interests? This had not been part of his objective and it troubled him that he was allowing her to follow him for what amounted to his own purely selfish reasons. Before Zeeona's death, he would have told himself that he was not responsible for her actions, that she was a free agent and that if she wished to follow him then it was not his place to dissuade her. But all that logic had not helped him when he had found Zeeona's body in the freight bay on Scorpio base and all that reason had not prevented him from feeling deeply guilty for her death. As Fasique began to return, he decided that this subject must finally be broached. She handed him the travel disc with a smile. "There...all done! Now, are we ready to get off this swimming pool?" Tarrant carefully pulled her onto the seat next to his. He put an arm around her waist and gently touched her cheek. "How old are you, really, Fasique?" She smiled slightly, puzzled. "Nineteen. Does that matter? There's nothing for me here." "Well, you're alive. And no-one is trying to kill you and you've got food and health and you could have a job...", his voice softened, "...and a family." She gazed levelly at him. "And what would their future be here? Tarrant, if this is you trying to persuade me not to leave, it won't work." "Wouldn't it? Then what would?" His voice became firm, almost cold. Fasique looked at him anxiously. "What's got into you?" "An old of friend of mine used to say that sentiment bred weakness, that if you let it get hold of you were finished. I thought he was wrong then but I'm not so sure now, not sure at all." "Well, take me along on non-sentimental grounds then! You must see that I can be of some use to you!" Tarrant spoke softly. "Actually, that was some advice to you." Fasique's expression grew cool as she realised his meaning. "I see." Tarrant said nothing, looking at her with a mixture of affection and regret. As he watched her he was perplexed to see her expression change from one of irritation to one of anger and fear. He realised that she was looking behind him and as he turned around he felt a gun being pressed into his side. "Alright, you've had your fun and we've all been very tolerant, Earthboy. But now, its this simple - you get off this planet and you keep walking. Understand?" Sitting on Tarrant's other side now was a young and dangerous-looking man. He had an easy confident smile which did not quite extend to his eyes and appeared to be quite unmoved by the situation. His gaze wandered over to Fasique, whom he greeted with a nonchalant grin. "Faz! It's clear that I can't leave you on your own for even a minute! I'll bet you thought I wasn't coming back for another month, didn't you? Well, your luck's right out and it's too bad for you because here I am. Don't worry about this loser. I'll have him off your hands in no time." Fasique appeared too shocked to speak, but Tarrant noticed something else about the way she looked at him. It was dread and pure, naked fear. Tarrant spoke calmly, holding his anger in check. "Perhaps you'd introduce yourself?" The young man laughed quietly, shaking his head in apparent amazement. "You get worse, Faz, you know that?" Then, turning small grey eyes on Tarrant he said simply, "I'm Ivo Karin." Fasique cleared her throat. "He's my husband, Tarrant." From Becky.Smith@k12.uen.gen.ut.us Thu Dec 28 18:38:13 1995 Date: Thu, 28 Dec 1995 10:38:03 -0700 (MST) From: Becky Smith To: calle@lysator.liu.se Subject: Remembrance Part Eight (fwd) MIME-Version: 1.0 Content-Type: TEXT/PLAIN; charset=US-ASCII ---------- Forwarded message ---------- From: VIDICON@aol.com Date: Fri, 31 Mar 1995 22:23:25 -0500 To: blake7@lysator.liu.se Subject: Remembrance Part 8 Remembrance Part 8 Kathy Moran :Space City; Vestron's Headquarters Soolin and Dayna sped down the hallway. Since Soolin was always prepared for any eventuality, she knew a way (in fact several ways) to get into Vestron's office. Luckily he hadn't bothered to deactivate her access code yet, so they didn't have to worry about crawling through the ducts. She whispered to Dayna. "Vestron has two vulnerable points--between his eyestalks, and a sort of ridgelike projection where the throat would be in a human. Just about anyway else you have to go through a lot of ooze before you hit anything vital. Pretty messy.". Dayna looked at her, amused at her concise report of the alien's weakness, "What about employee loyalty?" She shrugged, "Force of habit. When we get into the office. I'll go in low for him. You try to take out anyone with him. We have to about thirty seconds before the room's defence systems are activate so we have to be fast. With that, she punched in her access code to the inner sanctum. They quickly moved through the door. Soolin immediately went down on one knee, aimed, and hit Vestron precisely between eyestalks. The only sound he made was a slight gurgling noise. Since Soolin was kneeling, Dayna was able to see over her to scan the room for other targets. Since Vestron was alone, she quickly moved back to guard the corridor. Soolin came past her to run down the hallway. As they turned down one corridor, they could hear sirens blaring in the background. Soolin led the other woman down a back way which opened opened into to one of Space City's Red Light district. Many human women entered Vestron's domain through this way, but this was the first time any women had ever left this way. Realizing that running would only draw attention to them, they slowed down slightly as they moved through the crowd. Dayna was surprised that Soolin did not immediately make way for the spaceport, but since Soolin was more familiar with the station, she thought it best to follow her. After all, she had been on her own for far too long. :Space City; Vila's Quarters Jenna stared at Vila in shock. "I can't believe it! Avon shot Blake?" "Believe it. Avon thought that Blake was going to sell us out. Turned out to be some sort of elaborate game of Blake's to get recruits. I think he was as crazy as Avon. He certainly wasn't the same man we met on the *London.*" "Are any of us?" Jenna asked bitterly. "Well you're still a smuggler and I'm still a thief" replied Vila looking broodingly into his glass. He didn't want to discuss--even think about the toll these past few years had taken. "When did you last see Blake?" "Just after Star One. After he recovered from his injuries, we went our separate ways. I told him I was tired of risking my life with very little reward--material or otherwise. Funny, I would have thought by now he would be running the entire Federation." They sat quietly for a few minutes, both lost in thought. Finally Jenna stirred and asked "Is Avon still alive?" "Don't know. I had to leave Gauda Prime in a hurry and didn't want to miss my ride. He would've done the same for me." Suddenly Soolin and Dayna burst in his room. "Vila, We have to move.on, I killed Vestron and it's only a matter of time before some of his thugs come here." Soolin gasped. But Vila was looking her companion who was leaning against the door trying to catch her breath. "Dayna!" Soolin interrupted, "Save the touching reunion for later and move." She pointed her gun at Jenna who froze. "You can come with us or I can kill you now. Your choice." Meanwhile, Vila had grabbed his tool bag and quickly stashed his bottle and his Signal Scrambler. All the basic necessities of life. He then noticed the tableau of the two woman. "Aw, Soolin, don't be like that. Jenna wouldn't betray us." "I trust your judgement of character about as much as I would trust you to guard a bottle of wine." Unexpectedly Jenna laughed at the comment, "She certainly has you pegged, Vila. Soolin, I don't want to to be caught by any of Vestron's men either. Can we call a temporary truce until we get to someplace safer?" Dayna, who by this time had caught her breath and was guarding the door, "Let's not waste time, if she proves difficult, we can always get rid of her later." Jenna bristled slightly at that, but decided that it was best not to comment on it, especially since Soolin lowered her weapon. "Alright, where's the nearest bolthole?" Vila offered, "Boltholes are my one of my specialties. Corridor 3 in the Omega Sector has some lovely unused storage rooms." From Becky.Smith@k12.uen.gen.ut.us Thu Dec 28 18:39:21 1995 Date: Thu, 28 Dec 1995 10:39:10 -0700 (MST) From: Becky Smith To: calle@lysator.liu.se Subject: Remembrance Part Nine (fwd) MIME-Version: 1.0 Content-Type: TEXT/PLAIN; charset=US-ASCII ---------- Forwarded message ---------- To: blake7@lysator.liu.se Subject: Round Robin 9 Repost -- Easier to Read (I hope) Date: Sun, 16 Apr 1995 18:29:50 EDT From: Jen Hawthorne BLAKE'S 7 "Remembrance" Part 9 by Jen Hawthorne : Alkander Space Port, Disentastra: "Husband?" Tarrant echoed. Fasique wouldn't meet his eyes. "Kind of makes you wonder what else she hasn't told you, doesn't it?" Ivo Karin said. He motioned at their personals bag and the box holding Orac. "Faz, pick up those and get home. I'll be along as soon as I've dealt with Eathboy here." Grey eyes narrowed as he looked at his wife, who stared back with undisguised contempt. "And you'd better be there when I get back." Fasique nodded slowly and moved to comply, still without so much as a glance at Tarrant. Karin watched her as she moved off for the exit, his face set in an strange mix of anger, smug self-congratulation, and puzzlement. Tarrant considered making a play for the gun in Karin's moment of distraction, but a stab of pain from his half-healed legs dissuaded him. His own gun was back in Central City -- he'd been unable to come up with a way to get it past the Space Port security scans. Dammit. As Fasique exited the main doors of the lobby, Karin's full attention returned to Tarrant. "She was just using you, you know," he said. "To try to get off-world. This was her fourth attempt in the past year. I'd feel sorry for you -- except that I'm too pissed off at you for sleeping with my wife. Get up and get moving." He waved the gun in the direction of the private docks. Tarrant rose, making more of a show of how difficult it was for him than was required. If he could get Karin to believe him more of a cripple than he actually was, it might give him an advantage in the eventual inevitable struggle for the gun. He'd need whatever edge he could get, however slight. "Is there some reason she shouldn't leave if she wants to?" Tarrant asked as he finally gained his feet. He gave a theatrical minor groan of pain, just in case Karin missed the point of how physically incapable he was. Karin prodded him in the back with the gun. "Because she's my wife and I haven't given her permission. Can't figure out why she won't just stay put and behave herself like she's supposed to -- I provide for her better than most get." He paused, shaking his head in what seemed like genuine confusion before returning to the matter at hand. "Not that it's any of your damn business. Walk." Tarrant noticed that their little scene wasn't attracting much attention from bystanders. The civilians had moved off to a safe distance, and some were watching curiously, but no one seemed likely to intervene. Two spaceport security guards were watching more closely, but made no move to take action. Tarrant nodded toward the pair as they moved past. "Friends of yours?" "Them? Nah. But I told 'em what you and Fasique were up to. They wished me good luck. Even offered to help." He smiled, not pleasantly. "But I take care of my own business. Keep walking." Tarrant walked. : Space City : "Hold up a moment, Vila," Dayna said, catching the thief's shoulder as he headed for the door. "There's something Soolin and I should take care of before we go underground." "Can't you do it from Corridor 3?" Vila badly wanted to get out of the room before Vestron's revenge-crazed thugs arrived. "No. The storerooms don't have comm terminals, and we need one." She waved a hand toward Vila and Jenna. "The two of you stand back, out of the terminal's visual range." Soolin moved up to stand beside her as Dayna punched in a comm code. Within seconds, Criallis' unhandsome face appeared on the screen. His eyes widened perhaps a millimeter or so, no more, as he saw Dayna and Soolin standing side by side. "Dayna. So nice to hear from you. Won't you introduce your charming companion?" Dayna took no time for pleasantries. "Vestron is dead, Criallis." "So I'd heard. Good work. You'll receive your usual bonus." "Not this time, Criallis. I want something else." Criallis looked mildly interested. "Something else, dear Dayna? And what would that be?" "Three things." She ticked them off on her fingers. "One: a formal declaration of discharge of debt. From this point on, I'm a free agent." Criallis' expression assumed a slight air of injured sorrow. "You wish to leave my employ? And I thought we had such a good working relationship." Dayna ignored that. "Two: You give me the information you said you had on the whereabouts of Kerr Avon." Behind her, Vila's mouth dropped open and Jenna frowned, suddenly paying very close attention to the ongoing conversation. Criallis' expression didn't change. "I rather expected that. And the third thing?" "You will name Soolin Demarest as Optimate of Gauda Prime." Faced with such effrontery, most men would have yelled, or snarled, or turned red, or possibly screamed threats. Criallis merely blinked. "Really? And why should I do that? If I'm not mistaken, this -- Soolin, did you say? -- is the blonde gunhand of Vestron's I've heard so much about recently. While I would not be averse to adding a markswoman of her reputed skill to my forces, I would certainly not do so without some proof of loyalty. And she would start at the bottom, like all in my employ. *Not* at the top." "I'll tell you why you'll do it, Criallis. You'll do it because Soolin killed Vestron, not me, and I'd be willing to swear that to the Chairman himself." Criallis blinked again. "Ah. I see. I'm disappointed in you, Dayna. Still, if you did not carry out your assignment, I don't see why I owe you anything at all -- except perhaps a reprimand for your attitude." "At the moment, the only people who know that Vestron was killed by one of his own people and not by one of yours are Soolin and myself. If we both swear that *I* fired that shot that killed Vestron, there's no one who can prove otherwise. We'll do that if you give us what we ask. And you'll have what you wanted -- all of Vestron's holdings will be yours, all perfectly within the Code." She stared levelly at the Terra Nostra Magnate. "Otherwise, since Vestron was killed by one of his own, his holdings will go either to his second-in-command, if he's strong enough to take them, or they'll be redistributed by the Chairman. Either way, you'll get nothing." Criallis considered that for a long moment. "An intriguing proposition, dear Dayna. I really must stop encouraging so much initiative on the part of my underlings. What if I accept your bargain and you decide to blackmail me?" "Oh, come now, Criallis. Who'd believe the word of a mere enforcer over a Magnate? And if you can't hold on to what you've taken, you're not the man I know you are." "You flatter me, dear Dayna." "I didn't mean it as a compliment." Criallis' lips twitched in what might have been a smile. Or perhaps not. "Why exactly are you interested in Gauda Prima? As Vestron himself pointed out, it's not likely to be a terribly profitable world once the Federation resettlement scheme is complete." "So you should be quite eager to get rid of it." "True. Yet, the same thing I told Vestron applies to you. A sudden interest in an apparently valueless commodity... a man would be a fool to sell it without first finding out why it's so badly wanted." Soolin spoke up. "Vestron wanted it because I told him a pack of lies about its worth, about the mineral deposits and natural resources there. I didn't tell him that the Federation has long since taken everything of value." Criallis eyed her. "Lying to your employer for your own ends? You show true Terra Nostra spirit, my dear." "No need to be insulting." "I meant it as a compliment. At any rate, the question still remains -- why are you so interested in Gauda Prime?" "It's my homeworld," Soolin said simply. "Ah. Sentiment is a weakness, my dear." "So I've been told. Nevertheless." The Terra Nostra eyed the two them standing there, one dark, one fair, both deadly. He shook his head in mock sadness. "A true pity. You are both decorative as well as useful. You would have made an excellent strike team. I'll made you a counter-offer, dear Dayna. Soolin may have the Optimate position -- provided she can remove the man who currently holds it. She may recruit whatever help she likes...but I will warn Ven Jestry that she is coming. If she succeeds in taking the position from him, she will have proven herself worthy to hold it." He smiled for real for the first time in the conversation. It was a warm, friendly smile, and it chilled Dayna to the bone. "Of course, I will continue to receive my usual percentage." Dayna looked to Soolin. The blonde nodded. Vila whimpered and Jenna clamped a hand over his mouth. Dayna looked back to Criallis. "That's acceptable. Now -- Kerr Avon?" "Ah, that. Apparently one of Jestry's people recognized him in the main prison garrison on Gauda Prime about a month ago. I've no idea if he's still there. Oddly enough, the Federation doesn't seem aware of his identity." He smiled again. "I suppose I really should let them know who they have, seeing as I am, of course, a loyal Federation citizen." Dayna tensed, but letting it show would be a mistake. "I don't think that would be a wise move, Criallis. It might irritate Soolin." "Ah, yes. Perhaps it would not be in my long-term best interest. And I don't think I'd want to irritate Soolin." He made a dismissive motion with one hand. "Also, I have little interest in helping the Federation; they can take care of their own housecleaning. I should mention, however, that if you intend to help your Kerr Avon, you'd best not delay -- he's become an informant and stooge for the Federation guards at the camp, and I understand his fellow inmates are rather upset with him. He could easily have a fatal accident. It's surprising he's lived this long. If he has." Through Jenna's fingers, Vila muttered, "It'd serve him right." Jenna glared him into silence. "I understand," Dayna said. "And the last point?" "The discharge of debt?" He made the dismissing motion again. "Consider it done. You've provided me with exceptional service over the past nine months. I'm only sorry you won't be continuing to do so." "We have a Deal then?" Criallis nodded. "We have a Deal." Dayna let out a long breath. Under all the calm, she was trembling. She hoped Criallis couldn't see it. "This conversation is over then. Goodbye, Criallis." "Oh, surely not goodbye -- rather, 'Until we meet again'?" Dayna shook her head and reached for the disconnect. "One final word, Dayna." Dayna pulled her hand back reluctantly. "Since you are no longer in my employ, I cannot offer you any further assistance or protection, nor can any of my people. And Vestron's men are looking for you. You'd best leave Space City quickly. Unless, of course, you'd like to reconsider your resignation...?" "*Goodbye*, Criallis." She cut the connection and sagged against the comm panel with suddenly liquid knees. "Can we get out of here now?!" Vila started edging toward the door again. "I'd say so, yes," Dayna replied. Soolin was staring off into the corner of the room. "Vila...what's that?" "What's what?" "*That*." She pointed at the black box. "That? Uhm, that's...I don't know what that is. And right now I don't care. Omega Sector, here I come." "It looks like that box that Mueller's android's head came in." Jenna blinked and looked confused, then decided to ask later. Vila shuddered. "Don't remind me! Anyway, it was delivered to my quarters, oh, an hour or so ago. I don't know who by. Are you satisfied? Can we go?" Soolin studied the box a moment longer, then strode over, picked it up, and tucked it under one arm. It was an awkward load, but she managed it. "Now we can go." "Are you sure that's a good idea?" Dayna asked. "No," Soolin replied, but didn't put the box down. "By the way, Vila, did you check on that cargo like I asked?" "That? Oh, yes, that. Yes, I did. They were photonic stardrives. At least three of them that I saw. Can we go now?" : Alkander Space Port, Disentastra: Tarrant walked, as slowly as he could manage, with far more shuffling than was called for. This had the desired effect on Ivo Karin, who poked him in the back again with the gun muzzle and said, irritated, "Keep moving or I'll stun you and drag you instead." "I can't move any faster. My legs were badly broken when I crashed on this planet. I can barely walk." Karin made a disgusted noise. "Great. It's not enough she fools around on me with an offworlder, she picks a *crippled* offworlder." But he slowed down a little, and the gun moved a little farther away from Tarrant's back. <> the pilot thought. <> They had reached the door leading to the private docking facilities. Karin motioned him to one side while he slid an ID card into the lock. The doors slid back. "Where are we going?" Tarrant had assumed that Karin would take him to the nearest Federation outpost and turn him in for the reward. But he didn't need a ship for that. "To my ship. Going to lock you up there where my first mate can keep an eye on you while I go handle Faz." "And then what?" Karin chuckled nastily. "Ever heard of a planet called Domo, Earthboy?" Tarrant went cold. "No," he lied. "Well, I've done business there occasionally. Let's just say I've got a better revenge in mind than just gunning you down, as amusing as that would be." Ivo Karin "did business" on Domo. No wonder Fasique couldn't stand him. <> Karin chivvied him down the hallway to Docking Bay 7 and punched a code into the keypad. The door slid open, revealing a short umbilical connection leading to the outside of an airlock. Karin repeated the code process with the second door and it obediently let them through. The two of them stepped inside, and the outer airlock door slid shut. Karin keyed the inner pad. Nothing happened. He cursed and rekeyed. Nothing happened again. Tarrant gathered himself. Karin slammed an agitated fist down on the intercom key. "Meroe! What the deuce is wrong with the airlock? Open her up!" As he shouted, the gun barrel drifted away from Tarrant's chest. Tarrant dove, both hands reaching for Karin's gun hand, shoulder down and driving for Karin's solar plexus. His weakened legs failed to provide as much leverage as he would have liked, but he connected solidly enough to slam the shorter man into the airlock wall, and his long fingers wrapped around Karin's wrist, forcing the gun upward. It discharged, the stun bolt richocheting harmlessly off the ceiling. Karin grunted explosively as the breath was forced from his lungs, but he didn't fall, and Tarrant cursed -- he had dearly wanted to stun the man with the first attack. Now things became much more difficult. Karin slammed his free fist into Tarrant's side, going for a kidney punch. Tarrant was ready for the blow, but it still hurt. For a moment he just hung onto Karin, keeping him pinned to the wall and keeping the all-important gun pointed away. Karin was yelling, howling for Meroe to get his butt out of the ship and come help him, but so far there was no response from the unseen first mate. Tarrant concentrated on trying to rip the gun from Karin's hand. Unfortunately this left him open to Karin's counterattack, and Ivo did what Tarrant would have done in his place -- went for his opponent's weakest spot. He twisted against Tarrant's shoulder to get a better angle and then kicked viciously at the back of Tarrant's legs. The pilot collapsed with a cry of pain, his vision going brownish- black. When it cleared a moment later, he was staring up into the barrel of Ivo Karin's gun. "Bad move," Karin sneered, breathing heavily. "Now you get to take an extended nap." The outer airlock door whooshed open. Karin's head jerked around in surprise. "Drop it, Ivo." Fasique stood there in the passageway, Tarrant's gun pointed straight at Karin's head. Orac hummed at her feet. "What the *hell*--!" Karin began. "Shut up, Ivo!" Fasique snarled. "And drop the gun, or so help me I'll drill you right between the eyes!" Karin ignored her. "Where'd you get that?! How'd you get into this dock? I told you to go home!" Fasique shot him. Stun beam only, Tarrant noticed, more than a little disappointed. "That felt really good," the girl commented, staring down at her husband's prone body. "Glad you enjoyed it," Tarrant said, still feeling rather stunned himself. "Now, if you'd help me get him off my legs so I can get up...?" Fasique pushed Karin off of Tarrant with a none-too-gentle kick to the ribs, and then helped the pilot up. "I told you that you needed me," she chided. Tarrant sighed. "I never disputed that. But anyway...thank you." "You're welcome. Now what do we do?" Tarrant eyed Karin's unconscious form. "How did you get in here, anyway?" Fasique pointed at Orac. "Your computer. It also got me past the Space Port security scans with your gun." ** I also prevented him from operating the airlock controls on the inner door of his ship, ** Orac added, sounding miffed that Fasique had not listed his accomplishments in full. ** Now, if we could proceed? Your carelessness has already caused considerable delay.** "Orac, have you got access to all of the systems on Karin's ship?" ** Do not waste my time with stupid questions! ** "I'll take that as a yes." Tarrant smiled down at Fasique. "In which case, I think we've acquired private transport for our trip to Space City." He patted the inner door of the airlock. "Once we've dealt with Karin's first mate, that is." ** Will you kindly get on with it and cease this insupportable delay?** "Is it always this bad tempered?" Fasique asked. "No. It's usually worse." He reclaimed his gun from Fasique, handing Karin's to her, and grinned, feeling better than he had in -- well, in nine months, at least. "Ready?" She nodded. "Ready." Together, they stepped into the ship. From Becky.Smith@k12.uen.gen.ut.us Thu Dec 28 18:40:30 1995 Date: Thu, 28 Dec 1995 10:40:19 -0700 (MST) From: Becky Smith To: calle@lysator.liu.se Subject: Remembrance Part Ten (fwd) MIME-Version: 1.0 Content-Type: TEXT/PLAIN; charset=US-ASCII ---------- Forwarded message ---------- From: "Mang S. Chin" Date: Sun, 30 Apr 1995 23:25:41 -0400 To: blake7@lysator.liu.se Subject: Remembrance Part 10 *REMEMBRANCE PART 10* by Mang S. Chin :Space City, Suite 536 Captain Rendall shifted position in his lounge chair for the tenth time as many minutes. He was well aware that he was extremely fortunate to be given a second chance by Commissioner Sleer. Tracking down these fugitives was not going to be an easy task given the lack of information he had about their whereabouts. They could be anywhere, but he had to find them, one way or another. He knew all the rumors about the fate of officers who failed Commissioner Sleer, but knew nothing about officers that failed her twice. Rendall was not too eager to find out. He got up onto his feet, paced around momentarily, and sat down again. He should have received reports from his officers by now. Vila was spotted in Space City several months ago. Vila was not the brightest person in the universe, after all, he was classified as a delta grade. Surely he must have dropped some hints as to where he was going. Hopefully. :Space City, Omega Sector, Corridor 3 Dayna grabbed the back of Vila's collar and pulled him back. "Vila, did you just say that those boxes contained photonic stardrives?", she asked him. "Who said stardrives?", stuttered a seemingly shocked and offended Vila "Those boxes were full of sidearms. Standard stuff, nothing special. That's why they had such crude locks. You could say that they weren't even locked up at all. Just lying out there in the open. I could have walked out with an armload of them and they would have thanked me for taking them off their hands. We really should be on our way." "Now I know why Veston was so worried.", said Soolin completely ignoring Vila's chatter, "Anyone who could get a hold of those stardrives could become a threat to the Federation within a month." "Unless they were the Federation", frowned Dayna, "in which case we have to do something about it." "We don't know the buyer. We don't know what it's for. There's a lot of risk.", said Soolin. "Come now, ladies, the galaxy can wait a few days. Besides, we're on the run, unarmed, and unless you happen to be carrying a bomb around with you, there's not much we can do about those stardrives.", added Vila with a hopeful smile. Dayna grinned evilly and Vila groaned. He looked pleadingly towards Jenna, who finally spoke up. "He has a point.", she said, "We can't go on a suicide run. If we want to stay alive, we have to get out of here now. I don't feel like risking my life for nothing." "An excellent point.", Vila chimed. "They're looking for us. Let's go now.", said Jenna, with the hard tone that she used when she wanted someone to know that she meant business. "Who asked you?", grumbled Soolin. "She knows what she's talking about, after all, she knows the kind of character these people are. Let's get out of here while we still have the chance.", pleaded Vila. Soolin quickly put down the black box from Vila's suite and drew her gun at Jenna. "I'm starting to get really tired of this.", said Jenna. "Tell me now and tell me quickly. What do you know about the people who are getting those stardrives?", demanded Soolin. :Karin's ship, leaving Alkander Spaceport and Disentastra It did not take long for Tarrant and Fasique to overpower Meroe and assume control of Karin's spacecraft. Moments later, they had prepared the ship for a quick takeoff. It was a large ship as far as private ships usually go and capable of excellent flight speed. Only the best. But what do you expect a slaver like Ivo Karin to own? Or have owned, anyway. After Fasique had managed to convince the flight authorities that Karin had some urgent business to attend to, they were on their way without a hitch. Tarrant had no trouble getting the ship space-born. After several minutes of the takeoff, the ship left the planet's atmosphere. Tarrant put the flight controls on auto-pilot and turned to face Fasique, who was sitting next to him in the co-pilot's chair. "Why didn't you tell me that you had a husband?", asked Tarrant. They had worked smoothly in taking care of Meroe and getting the ship into space, but that little question had nagged at Tarrant's mind the entire time. He had to deal with it as soon as possible. "You didn't ask.", answered Fasique flatly. "Very droll", said Tarrant, as he sank back further into the pilot's chair. He stared blankly at some of the flight dials and then turned around to look for Orac. "Where did you put it?", he asked. "I strapped it into one of the seats back there. It should be pretty safe. I don't want to hear it complain about falling again." "I'll go get it." "What for?" "I like having it around. It cheers me up.", he said, and with that, he unbuckled his pilot restraints and got up. Tarrant felt awkward around Fasique now. She had spent many months nursing him back to health out of the goodness of her own heart, or so he had thought. After his time with Avon and friends, Tarrant had learned the lessons of trust. He did not give trust easily but he had given it to Fasique. Even worse, he needed her, even now. In his weakened state, his chances of survival without her were slim to none. Ivo Karin had told him that Fasique was using him. Tarrant hoped that Fasique did not have have some private agenda. Sure, Tarrant had kept many secrets of his own from Fasique, but he had good reason to do so. Didn't he? "Del, wait.", Fasique said, still staring at the main viewport of the spacecraft. He stopped and turned around. He sensed the worst was about to come. "Del, I have to make a confession to you.", she said. :Gauda Prime, Main Garrison, Cell Block D He kept seeing it over and over again. He heard the voices and the screams and the sounds of sidearm fire. He saw himself being shot in the arm and falling as a second shot connected with his leg. He fell right next to Blake's lifeless body. And as it did every time, the sounds stopped and an officer stood over his body, just as he had stood over Blake's body just moments earlier. And then he woke up, just as he always did. Avon sighed and wiped away the sweat from his brow. He heard a heavy door close. Someone was coming, most likely a Federation officer coming to retrieve him for some computer duty. Avon quickly composed himself. He did not want to give away any impression of weakness. He sat up and stared through the bars of the cell, as he normally did. As the Federation officer became visible, Avon crooked one eyebrow and grinned. "Hello Avon. Funtime's over. Time to get down to business." Avon looked right at Arlen and almost laughed. He had wondered what happened to the woman who shot Dayna back at the fateful shootout. :Space City, Suite 536 *blip blip* "Well it's about bloody time.", complained Rendall. He walked over to the viewscreen and flicked it on. "Give me your report.", he demanded. From Becky.Smith@k12.uen.gen.ut.us Thu Dec 28 18:41:46 1995 Date: Thu, 28 Dec 1995 10:41:35 -0700 (MST) From: Becky Smith To: calle@lysator.liu.se Subject: Remembrance Part Eleven (fwd) MIME-Version: 1.0 Content-Type: TEXT/PLAIN; charset=US-ASCII ---------- Forwarded message ---------- From: Barny Shergold To: blake7@lysator.liu.se Date: Thu, 18 May 1995 17:15:02 +0000 Subject: REMEMBERANCE - PART 11 Okay here it is - Part 11 Sorry it is so late but I have been offline a bit. Anyway I hope you enjoy this. If you have any criticisms please mail me direct. SPOILER : This episode contains a very controvertial B7 idea. I hope I haven't upset anyone! REMEMBERANCE Part 11 By Barny Shergold :Karin's Ship Tarrant looked up at Fasique and saw that she had a very serious look on her face. "What's the matter now?" he asked. "I need to explain to you why I originally befriended you so you can understand that I do love you." Tarrant braced himself, this was a common thing in his life, to have a friend who was only a friend because they wanted something from him. "When we originally found out who you really were we knew you could help our planet's cause." "What cause is that?" "Our scientists have predicted that the environmental disaster that has struck our planet is worsening. Within the next century the whole of the ice-cap will have melted and only a few small land masses will remain. Far too little to support even five percent of the current population." "So what have your people planned and how do I fit in?" "We have decided to leave the planet. We have found a planet unknown as yet to the Federation. The problem is that it is on the opposite side of the galaxy. With normal transport ships it would take about forty standard years to make the trip." "I assume you have an alternative in mind?" asked Tarrant, who was beginning to wonder how he fitted into the scheme of things. "Yes, we managed to rescue a rather interesting person from Gauda Prime. He had heard that you were on Disentastra and sent us a message saying that if we rescued him from Gauda Prime he could help provide us with some of the Federation's new stardrives. The drives would allow us to make our journey in under three years. Anyway we managed to rescue him and he is now currently in Space City overseeing the transport of the stardrives. The other condition he gave us was that when you were well someone was to take you to him. I was chosen to befriend you, not even Ivo knew about it." Tarrant's face had slowly started to sag as Fasique told him this. When she stopped talking he was almost in tears. She was the first person he thought had truely liked him and now this. Fasique saw the tears and wiped them from Tarrant's face with the back of her hand. "Don't cry, Del, although I was only doing a job to start with I found myself becoming more and more attracted to you. I love you Del, that's why I thought you deserved the truth." Tarrant looked up in to her eyes and saw that she was telling the truth. He reached out and hugged her for a moment. He then pulled away and said, "I believe you Faz, I'll go to Space City with you on one condition." "What's that?" "Tell me the name of the man we are going to see." "Okay, I think you will have heard of him. His name is Blake, Roj Blake." :Space City, Omega Sector, Corridor 3 Jenna looked into Soolin's face and saw that Soolin fully intended to kill her if she didn't answer her questions. "Okay Soolin, you win. But stop pointing that damn gun at me." Soolin glared at Jenna and replied, "As soon as I start hearing something interesting then I'll think about it." Jenna looked over at Vila, who was sitting on the black box and looking slightly horrified at the situation, and asked, "Vila, can you persuade her?" Vila shook his head silently. Jenna realised that she was going to have to talk quickly. Normally she would have attempted to spin a story but a little voice at the back of her mind convinced her that telling Soolin the truth was the best course of action. "The stardrives have been stolen from the Federation and are headed for a planet called Disentastra." Soolin gestured with her gun that Jenna should continue. "The planet is slowly sinking into the sea as the polar icecaps melt. The inhabitants have found somewhere to go and they need the stardrives to get there." "Where did the drives come from?" asked Dayna. "Don't know. I just landed and they were loaded and I came here." "Where were they loaded?" asked Soolin. "Gauda Prime." Soolin let the gun drop, just enough so that Jenna wouldn't feel threatened by it. Vila in his surprise fell of the box and Dayna just exclaimed, "What!" "They were loaded on Gauda Prime. Why the surprise?" "Never mind, " replied Soolin, "just tell us where the drives are going." "I don't know. My instructions were to come here and wait for my contact." "What's the name of the contact?" asked Vila. Jenna looked over at Vila and replied, "Fasique Karin." :Space City, Suite 536 Rendall looked at the blank screen. He slowly smiled. His agents had been thorough, he now knew where most of the Liberator/Scorpio crew were. Avon was on Gauda Prime, he could wait. Vila, Dayna and Soolin were on Space City. The only person who had evaded his spies was Tarrant, but Jordash, his best agent, had assured him that he had found Tarrant's trail. He reached out and tapped a code on the comm panel and the screen lit up again. After a few minutes Commissioner Sleer's face appeared. "Ma'am, we have located all but one of the fugitives." "Who is missing, Captain?" "Del Tarrant, but my best man assures me that he has found Tarrant's trail and it won't be long before we find him. Avon is still on Gauda Prime, it seems he's got himself into prison. The others are on Space City. I have ordered my men to hold back as I have a feeling that Tarrant will be looking for them. If my man fails to trace Tarrant I think that there will be a good chance that Tarrant will turn up anyway." The Commissioner slowly began to smile. It wasn't a smile that Rendall recognised, usually her smiles were cold and you began to hear your life expectancy falling if you saw one. He suddenly realised that she was smiling because she was pleased. Now he was really worried. "Congratulations, Captain. That is an extremely good piece of thinking. I need more men like you. Keep me informed of any progress, Colonel." said Sleer, reaching forward and terminating the connection. Colonel! Rendall hoped that he wouldn't fail Sleer. For some reason he was actually beginning to enjoy himself. :Karin's Ship Tarrant shot out of his seat. "Blake!!??" "Yes." "But Blake is dead, I saw Avon shoot him." "Actually what you saw was a clone. A few years back President Servalan hatched a plot to discredit Blake. She enrolled the help of the Clone Masters who created three clones. One was killed by Space Captain Travis, one was left on some unknown planet and the other disappeared. It turns out that the Clone Masters weren't happy with what Servalan was doing and they sent the third clone to Gauda Prime." "Why Gauda Prime?" "It was the roughest planet they could think of and it was outside of Federation law. They thought that the clone would have the best chance of hiding from her if he was sent there. They imprinted some of Blake's character traits on it so it would have a good chance of survival. It would seem that Blake, after he recovered from his wounds incurred in the War, heard about the clone and tracked it down. He thought that since the clone was the same as him then the two of them would make a good team. When you were on Gauda, Blake was offplanet and left the clone in his place. He had taught it all he knew so that it could pretend to be him when he was away." "How do you know all of this?" asked Tarrant. "It was me that rescued him from Gauda and since the journey took a week we had plenty of time to talk." "But, you're too young for all this. You said you were only nineteen." "Actually I am twenty-seven, but I look younger. Even Ivo thought I was only nineteen. It was all part of my cover. The leaders of the Expedition recruited me a long time ago as a sleeper agent. We have had to keep our plans secret even from our people as we cannot risk the Federation finding out." "So how many others know the real Blake is still alive?" "Apart from me and my superiors, just you." "So where are we going now?" asked Tarrant. "Space City. To find Blake and a smuggler." :Gauda Prime, Main Garrison, Cell Block D Arlen looked at Avon. How can the man be so calm? she wondered. "So Avon, after all the trouble you took to find Blake you kill him. Why?" "When I saw all the Federation guards I thought he had betrayed me." "Well he didn't, I did," sneered Arlen. "I know," replied Avon, "and if I ever get out of here I'm going to find and kill you." Arlen was used to prisoners threatening her like this but something told her that Avon was fully capable of carrying out his threat. "I suppose you're wondering why I am here," she said, backing off slightly. "Not really," said Avon, "you hold about as much interest for me as a week old newscast." "We want to know what you did with ORAC." Avon smiled and for the first time since she came looked directly at Arlen. "By now I think ORAC is either offplanet or destroyed. Either way it's out of the Federation's hands." "You know, I believe you." Arlen reached into her inside pocket and pulled out a small flat object. "Do you know what this is?" she asked. "Yes," replied Avon, "it's a one shot staser. Some are built to stun and some to kill." "Quite correct. And do you know what type this is?" "No." "Well, I'll satisfy your curiousity and let you know." Suddenly Arlen stepped back, pointed the staser at Avon and shot him. From Becky.Smith@k12.uen.gen.ut.us Thu Dec 28 18:43:59 1995 Date: Thu, 28 Dec 1995 10:43:49 -0700 (MST) From: Becky Smith To: calle@lysator.liu.se Subject: Remembrance Part Twelve (fwd) MIME-Version: 1.0 Content-Type: TEXT/PLAIN; charset=US-ASCII ---------- Forwarded message ---------- From: pcrail@WWorkbench.niacc.cc.ia.us Subject: Round Robin Part 12 To: blake7@lysator.liu.se Date: Thu, 31 Aug 1995 14:42:07 -0500 (CDT) To All: Sorry my part is so long coming. I was offline for quite a while and before that I wasn't really sure I had a slot in the Round Robin, or when it came up! Apologies, but here (at long last) it is: REMEMBRANCE Part 12 by Elizabeth Crail :Gauda Prime, Spaceport, Federation Cargo Ship Avon awakened slowly. He felt the desert sun beating on his closed eyelids and the tingle of sweat on his entire body. He tried to move his head, anything to get relief from that beating white light. His head felt like a lump of uranium as he slowly twisted it to the side. The tingling set up more strongly in his neck. That wasn't right. Turning his head should not cause his neck to tingle with sweat. Maybe it wasn't sweat. He tried to lift his hand to check, but it felt nailed to the floor. Floor? Deserts don't have floors. Without trying to move again, Avon began to rethink his initial impression of a desert sun. What was the last thing he could remember? Scorpio...Gauda Prime...Blake- -treachery--he almost sat up as the fury at being betrayed shot through his veins--but after that?? There was something more, he knew. An image of stasers passed through his brain, all pointed at him, or was it just one pointed at him? He tried to distinguish between the two conflicting images and became aware of the beating light again. He wondered if he were dead. No. He tried to move again and this time his limbs were not quite so heavy. After a few tries he managed to sit up and open his eyes. Even though he was no longer expecting a desert, it took him a moment to try to make sense of the blank whiteness in front of his eyes. Slowly he grew accustomed to the light and he found himself in a featureless white room, perfectly cubical and perfectly empty, except for himself. He knew this was not the same place where the staser (stasers?) had hit him. Ergo, he had been moved. Why? Unimportant. Unless they were planning to kill him by leaving him here, someone, or something, had to come into the room, at least to feed him. Avon would be ready. :Karin's Ship, Space City Docks "So what now? How are we going to find this smuggler of yours?" "No worries, Del. Leave it to me. We have a prearranged meeting point, of course." Tarrant shook his head. "That sounds like a great chance for a setup. I don't like this." "Don't worry, I said. Our people have used this smuggler before. She's safe. And she's good. Everything will be all right. Let's get going. She's probably already waiting for us." "Where's the contact point?" "The fewer who know, the less chance of accidental betrayal." "Well, I want to know. What if something happens to you? Your whole planet could be screwed. And I don't like working blind." Fasique hesitated. "All right. It's in the Omega Sector. There's a series of pubs off Corridor 3. Somewhere in there." "That's pretty general, isn't it?" "Might help your problem with a possible setup." Tarrant shrugged. He had bad vibes about this whole deal, but if there was a chance that Blake was alive... :Federation Cargo Ship, Flight Deck Flight Coordinator Kellsig leaned back in his chair and took a sip from his cup. He sighed in contentment. The machine had even gotten the temperature right for a change. This had been a remarkably smooth voyage, normal in all respects except that prisoner he had to deliver to Commissioner Sleer at Space City. He had tried to explain to the authorities that this was a cargo ship, not a prison ship, and not equipped to handle prisoner transport. They had told him the prisoner would be stunned, and should remain that way till time to deliver him in Space City. No problems. Urgently required. Orders from way up. He really had no choice. Nonetheless, the trip had gone remarkably well, and perhaps there would be no hitch after all. He took another sip and then became aware of young Mekwitt standing in front of him. Mekwitt was training with the sublight radio operator, and always seemed to bring messages just at the worst times. "Speak," he growled, without looking up from his cup. "Sir, uh, Space City Patrol wants to know where we're bound and where we come from -- and there's a Red Alert on the last part." "Red Alert on a routine question? That's odd," Kellsig murmured to himself. "Never heard of that before. Probably a computer error. So what are you still standing there for?" he growled at the hapless youth. "Tell them!" "Sir." Mekwitt hurried off. A few minutes later he was back. "Sir. I hate to disturb you again, Sir..." "You've already done it. What now?" "Space City Patrol says we've come from a quadrant where space plague has been reported, Sir. We're under quarantine till further notice." "What!" Kellsig sat up very straight. "That's nonsense. Nothing about space plague in that quadrant. We would have heard something. Tell them they've mixed it up." "Sir, we did try to tell them we had no information about space plague, having just come from there, but they weren't interested. They're sending a medical team to check us out in a few hours." Kellsig looked slightly relieved. "And if we're clear? Did they say the quarantine would be lifted?" he asked almost eagerly. "No, Sir. They didn't say." "I'll have to inform the Captain. What are you waiting for? Get back to your post!" Avon was having trouble concentrating. The pure white walls were hard to focus on, and every now and then colours swam in front of his eyes, making him dizzy. His body was telling him that it had been a long time since he had any nourishment, and he was beginning to wonder if they had actually shut him in here to die. He looked down at his own black, silver-studded clothing just to relieve his eyes, and he flexed his fingers into fists a few times. If someone came, he had to be ready. Just then he heard a faint whishing sound and he looked up to see a long dark rectangle opening wider across the blank whiteness of the wall. Quick as a cat, he slipped across to stand next to the opening. As a white-suited figure leaned forward in the opening to look around the room, Avon chopped both hands down viciously just below the back of the helmet. The figure collapsed on the floor without a twitch. Avon cautiously put his head outside the door, but the corridor was empty. He glanced again at his distinctive, but definitely conspicuous outfit and quickly began to strip the anti-infection suit and helmet from the Space City Medical Technician. Kellsig collapsed into his chair on the flight deck with a sigh. The Med-Techs had just spent the last several hours combing through the ship and checking everyone on board for any sign of the plague. On leaving, their leader had told him that it would be several days before the test results were back and they could be cleared of the quarantine. If then. He should have known the voyage had gone too well to last. He put his head in his hands and tried to think if any of the cargo would suffer from orbiting Space City for several extra days. That really was not his job, but Kellsig had been trying to impress the Captain with his leadership abilities the whole voyage. How many years yet before he could make Captain? But a good word from this Captain might shorten the wait. The cargo should all last fine, he decided after a few minutes, and sat up, trying to relax. Still, there was something. Something was niggling in the back of his mind. He worried the thought for a few moments, then shook his head. He needed more coffee. An hour or so later, Mekwitt appeared in front of him again, just before Kellsig's shift was up. "What, you again?" Kellsig grumbled. "Haven't you brought enough bad news for one day?" Mekwitt ignored the implication. "Sir, it's a message from Commissioner Sleer, asking after that prisoner we're supposed to deliver to her on arrival." "Well, tell her we're in quarantine, and she can have him after we get out." Mekwitt snapped to attention and hurried out. Kellsig sat there motionless. The prisoner! He should be coming out of that stun pretty soon! What were they going to do with a desperate prisoner for the next several days? He would have to be fed... He pressed the intercom button. Someone had better check on him right away. :Space City, Omega Sector, Corridor 3 Fasique Karin? Soolin and Dayna looked at each other. Soolin turned toward Jenna again and started to say something, but she never got a chance. The emergency klaxons sounded in all the corridors, and they all froze. After a moment, the volume dropped on the klaxons and a voice came on. "Attention. Attention. Stay where you are. All sections are being closed down. A possible space plague carrier is loose in the city. Repeat, stay where you are." Soolin looked at Dayna again, and then said, "We've got to get out of here." She looked at Jenna. "Think. Is there anyplace we can hide?" They all looked desperately around. When troops checked for the plague carrier, they would check identification, and they would check every room. Dayna's eyes passed over the small garbage chute opening in the wall, and then snapped back to it. There was a bigger panel around it. "Vila! Can you get that panel off? Quick!" "What? What good..." he started to say, then comprehension dawned. "Oh, no. That's disgusting. There has to be a better spot than that!" "She's right," Jenna said, unexpectedly. "There is nowhere else. Get it open, Vila." Vila looked at the three women, and then shrugged hopelessly. "I'll give it a shot," he said, "but no guarantees." He knelt down by the panel and ran his fingers slowly around the edges. He finished the circuit and reached for a small tool in his pocket. "Hurry up, Vila," Dayna ground out between her teeth. "I think I hear troops coming!"