Coup D'Etat

The crew of the Scalia were finally relaxing, safe away from Fiornal. No pursuit ships were on the screen, and they had a few days leisurely travel time before a rendezvous with one of Blake's allies on an outer planet. Blake had declared a celebration in honor of Paige's rescue, blithely disregarding the fact that he had initially opposed it. The crew, with the exception of Loren, had taken that as part of Blake's character -- Blake always wanted to be on the side of the right, especially if enough time had passed to prove it right. Besides, he was a good-natured man, and he was genuinely pleased that Paige was safe. Loren was still getting the cold shoulder from several (especially Silira) but deplored Blake's "compromise of principle".

Still, a party was a party, so the crew was gathered on the flight deck. The ship's galley, as run by Paige and Silira, had produced some exotic (and questionable) delicacies, and Vila had finally coaxed Orac into devising a formula for some of his favorite adult beverages (also questionable).

Vila opened the party by distributing the drinks; he poured a glassful for everyone, and kept the pitcher for himself. He gave every appearance of bliss at his reunion with intoxicants. Silira kept a close eye on him. She didn't think he was as drunk as he was acting, but she couldn't be sure. She smiled at his obvious enjoyment and decided not to worry about him.

The main entertainment at the party was, at the outset, Silira and Vila's carefully edited version of the rescue plot by the mutineers. Paige was enthralled, although she could tell that much was being glossed over. Varel was as languid as ever, and Avon was not in a party mood. Still, he was there, sitting next to Paige; not quite touching her. Rusk paid attention but didn't say much. Blake, self conscious, kept trying to change the topic, and eventually succeeded. The conversation fragmented then into small groups.

The party was winding down when Orac spoke, but it managed to catch all of crew's attention.

*Attention. A bulletin concerning the Empress Servalan has been received. There is a standing order to report such information.* The words could have been apologetic, but were not. After a dramatic pause, Orac continued, anticipating Avon's impatient command to that effect.

*It appears that there has been a palace coup. Servalan had been absent from Earth for some reason, and in her absence, two of her top advisors, acting Supreme Commander Darren and Administrator Sassic, have secretly ordered a convict to waylay and kill Servalan.*

A general cheer erupted. Blake was left stunned, staring blindly at his drink. Avon had broken into a savage smile, and Paige smiled back at him in triumph. Even Vila sobered up enough to discuss the news energetically.

Silira was happy as well, and noticing that, Paige leaned forward to ask her, "Sil, why are you grinning? You never met her."

"True enough," Silira replied, still grinning. "But I've heard enough about her. From Vila, and you. She wasn't even popular with the Terra Nostra -- she was bad for business."

Paige was perplexed. "I never heard of her working against organized crime."

Silira giggled at that. "Well of course not. She was running organized crime."

As Paige leaned back to think that over, Avon leaned forward to ask more questions. "Orac, has she been reported dead yet?"

Varel wandered closer to the blinking box. After a minuscule pause, Orac replied *No such report has been made.*

Avon and Varel exchanged significant glances, and Avon continued questioning. "Orac, I want all you have about this plan. Is the assassination planned for in space? It must be. Give me all you can find about this convict. Then I want to know the speed and course required to be at the rendezvous point before either ship."

At a glance from Avon, Varel drifted towards the pilot's station, ready for instant action. Then they both waited for Orac's reply.

***

Darren drummed his fingers restlessly on the desk. The sergeant at the holding cells had promised to deliver a competent pilot before dinner. Dinner had come and gone, and no results, which struck him as odd. There were generally one or two smugglers in the cells at any one time, due to restrictive tariffs.

Just as Darren was reaching for his vid pickup, the door chimed softly. He keyed it to open, and the sergeant entered with two young women. Darren raised on eyebrow in a question, and the guard hurried to explain.

"These two are a team, they said. Wouldn't even tell me which one was the pilot. But they were all that was available. The record is impressive, sir. It needed three pursuit ships to catch them."

Darren considered them impassively. One of the women was black, with a razor-short haircut, and the other was a cool blond, whose hair hung in tangles. Neither one was very young, which was promising; they were too old to have survived by luck alone. The blond was staring ahead defiantly, while the black woman seemed disinterested.

He gestured to the sergeant to have a seat. The women remained standing in front of his desk. He continued studying them, partly to make them uncomfortable. It had no visible impact.

"So you are smugglers." He made it a question.

The blond glanced at him for a moment, and answered. "That. And mercenaries."

Darren concealed his sudden smile. The sergeant hadn't mentioned that. "Ah. I have a contract for you. Which one of you is Reyna?"

The blonde's gaze flickered to him again, claiming the name.

He turned towards the black woman. "Then you must be Kay." She didn't move, so he turned his attention back to her partner.

"I have a contract for you," he repeated. "There is a Class 4 pursuit ship on it's way here from the third sector. You will intercept and destroy it. You will leave here immediately in another Class 4 ship, which will be operating under a very strict pilot program. You will intercept the other ship and transmit to it a self-destruct code. Once that code has been sent and the other ship has been destroyed, the autopilot will be released, and the ship is yours." He spread his hands and shrugged. "What could be easier?"

Kay was watching him now, with deep distrust. "I take it that Space Command is fresh out of pilots?"

"The affairs of Space Command are none of your concern," he snapped. They clearly disagreed, but didn't argue. "You have two choices. Accept this contract and go free, or decline, and spend the rest of your lives in slavery. Which do you prefer?"

They exchanged glances. Reyna asked, "Will the other ship be armed? And who is the passenger?"

"Yes, it will be armed, but they will attempt to communicate first, assuming you to be an ordinary patrol ship. You will then transmit the code that will trigger its self-destruct mechanism. Ordinary weapons should not be needed. As to the passenger," he shrugged, "does it matter?"

Reyna set her jaw. "Yes. We like to know who we're killing."

Darren shrugged again. He had decided earlier that it would be safe for him to tell them. He didn't imagine that Servalan had many friends among the criminal classes. "Very well. You will be assassinating the Empress Servalan."

That produced a strong reaction, he was pleased to note. Without even glancing at each other, they replied in unison, "We'll do it."

"Where's our ship?"

"The sergeant will take you to your ship. More detailed instructions await you there. Good hunting."

Darren watched them leave silently. He was satisfied that they would follow his instructions about killing Servalan. After that, well, they might try to override the program he'd set the ship for, but he doubted they'd be able to. As long as they were powerless to interfere with his plans, he didn't begrudge them a temporary sense of triumph.

***

Orac hummed industriously for a few moments, then responded. *The information received is incomplete, but I can extrapolate the missing data with 89 percent efficiency.* He paused for approval.

"So, extrapolate already," Vila replied impatiently, startling Varel, who hadn't been aware that the thief was even listening.

*Supreme Commander Darren has ordered some modifications to a Class 4 pursuit ship*

"That's top of the line," Varel explained, surprised.

Orac continued. *The ship's computer has been substantially pre-programmed, so that the pilot has very little input into the speed or heading. The ship will proceed directly to these coordinates--" Varel made a note of them.

*Once it achieves them, it will begin a search pattern. That program will hold for 50 hours, then it will activate a self-destruct sequence. The pilot has control only of limited-range communications and weapons systems. Presumably, Servalan's ship will cross these coordinates sometime within the next few days, at which point it will be destroyed.*

***

Reyna and Kay followed the sergeant to the Supreme Commander's private docking bay. They were somewhat less alert than normal to possibilities of escape. Servalan's death was a powerful lure.

The sergeant briskly put them into the ship, pointed out their emergency gear, produced a package of further instructions, and left. The main hatch rung softly behind him as it sealed itself. They regarded each other gravely.

"Well." Kay was the first to speak.

Reyna was not in the mood for a philosophical discussion. "I suggest we strap down, and get familiar with the instruments. Any objections?" She didn't wait for a reply, but crawled forward to the pilot's seat.

"This ship will be so automated we won't have to know the difference between forward thrusters and rear deflectors." Kay complained cheerfully as she crawled forward herself. She also began studying the instrument panel.

They remained silent and watchful during the automated launch, but once away from Earth, they relaxed somewhat. Reyna decided to finally answer Kay's earlier question. "Well. I don't think this looks good for us." She didn't sound worried, but Kay knew her partner better than that.

"No." After the years they'd spent together, their conversations were pared down to efficient levels. "What do you suppose the trap will be?"

"Could be almost anything. It doesn't even have to look like an accident. We've got another day to go. I'll start looking up here. Check what you can of the life support systems."

Kay nodded, then rose gracefully and headed towards the rear of the small chamber. These Federation pursuit ships were cramped.

***

In a nearly identical pursuit ship, lifting off from Fiorinal, Servalan was fuming. She hadn't enjoyed that final interview with the planetary governor. He'd been careful not to mention it, but it was quite obvious that he had heard about, or even worse, seen her disastrous loss of composure. She had recovered almost immediately, of course, but those troops had not been her own personal guards - they'd been Fiorinal men, who reported to the Governor. Who in turn had never been properly respectful. She had waited too long to dispose of him. Already she knew exactly how his death could be accomplished, but that was only a small revenge. She reserved her most creative and destructive energies for the problem of Avon.

What was left of her soul writhed in agonies of humiliation when she remembered the scene in that Tarrant girl's cell. She had been looking forward to that interrogation. Avon's presence had been a welcome surprise - at first. She had missed having him to sharpen her claws on. He had been right to guard against personal involvement; the more she'd learned about him, the better she'd been able to torment him. And still he hadn't surrendered. All the same, she had had the advantage over him for over five years. It had been exhilarating to face him on equal ground - an exciting new round of their old, familiar game. She just hadn't expected to be so completely dismissed. Avon had lost interest in their game.

Very well, then. After this, her pursuit would be merciless and her revenge would be total. With that thought in mind, she leaned forward to instruct her mutoid crew to increase speed. She had a lot to accomplish; she needed to get back to Earth.

***

Using the new improved drive, Scalia reached the rendezvous well before the projected showdown. Loren displayed the surrounding space, but no other spacecraft were revealed.

Not that anyone besides Loren was paying attention.

"Under no circumstances will we contact the convict. We know nothing about him, and he has a fully armed pursuit ship!" Avon seemed irritated that anyone would think otherwise.

Silira, however, wasn't cowed. "He is in a pursuit ship which is operating on remote control. He's acting solely on pre-programmed commands."

"And you'd know about that, wouldn't you?" Loren shot nastily.

Silira drew her breath, and then resumed her argument. "Yes, I would, thank you very much. I needed someone to rescue me, too, and I was lucky." She smiled briefly and brilliantly at Vila, who was trying to blend into the couch.

"This convict needs rescued, as well. We cannot simply leave him there to self-destruct." Rusk spoke firmly.

"Thank you, Rusk, for your show of support," Blake said, surprised.

Avon scowled, and Loren glared at Blake. He wasn't following her lead in this, and she was worried. But security had to come first.

Varel was looking worried, as well. "I think we have to be careful about this person. He's a convicted criminal, and even in the Federation, that sometimes means something. They're not all frustrated populists, and they don't all have hearts of gold."

That confounded Blake for a moment. In fact, he was having a tough time justifying his instinctive position. He had never idolized or idealized criminals in any way, even though he worked with quite a few. Yet, he felt an instant sympathy with this particular convict. While he groped for reasons, Silira jumped back into the fray.

"No, of course not. Most of them, however, are fairly reasonable people. And, yes, Loren, I'm speaking from experience. Varel, Avon, I don't see what harm will be done by talking to him. It will gain us more information. Then we can decide if he deserves to die."

"And when did we get smart enough to decide that?" Paige couldn't resist asking. Her friend ignored her.

Blake's momentary confusion subsided. "Yes, Silira, I agree with you. We must get more information before we decide."

The argument continued for a while, but as it consisted mainly of repetitious statements, a little louder each time, Paige's mind wandered from the topic. This debate was creating strange allies. Silira and Blake were hardly ever in agreement, but that was nothing compared to seeing Avon and Loren on the same side! Neither one of them looked very happy about it, either. Even normally quiet Rusk was speaking up. Probably his medical training; he couldn't just leave someone there to die. On second thought, though, he hadn't been too eager to rescue her . . . Paige suppressed her rising bitterness. He was siding with Blake, as always.

She turned her head to watch Vila. It was a testament to his talents that she'd almost forgotten he was there. He'd been keeping quiet. Maybe he didn't want to get caught between Avon and Silira. Maybe Paige was keeping quiet for the same reason. She turned back to the rest of the group, and noticed Varel watching her. She smiled reluctantly. Somehow, she could tell that he was thinking along similar lines. As she turned her gaze towards Avon, she reflected that Varel was really a very nice person. It was too bad that she had fallen for Avon already. Objectively speaking, Varel might have been a better choice. Too late now -- kind of a shame. By some criteria, he was the most attractive one on the ship.

***

Kay stared, unbelieving, at the monitors. Then she reached over to shake her sleeping partner. "Wake up. This is weird."

Reyna woke quickly, and her eyes darted to the instrument panel. The first thing she noted was that the ship's motion had slowed to a crawl. Then her attention turned to the ship on the screen.

"What is it?" She asked, almost certain she knew.

Kay raised her hands helplessly. "It looks like a Horizon class Federation cruiser. But the readings are strange - it's been modified. And it's not broadcasting Space Command's ident code - it's not broadcasting at all. Just sitting there." She sounded grim.

"Has it moved?" Reyna was leaning forward, uselessly checking the readouts.

"No, it's just watching us. Should we communicate?" She was staring at the other ship, hoping to solve its mystery.

"No! It could be part of the trap. Maybe it will destroy Servalan and blame us. We don't know who they are or why they're here. So we stay quiet."

Kay, obedient to her partner's highly developed survival instincts, agreed, and they were quiet as they watched the mysterious ship.

***

The Empress was the last to arrive. She had been pleasantly absorbed in planning a grisly fate for Avon when the mutoid pilot pointed out the ships in their path. It was unusual, and therefore suspicious, to encounter ships randomly this far from a solar system. She leaned forward to scrutinize the display, and stiffened in shock.

"Scalia," she breathed. With her enemy in sight, Servalan, for once, forgot her long-range plans. "Pilot, destroy that ship -- now!" Obedient as ever, the mutoid opened fire.

***

Scalia's crew was still arguing about communications when Servalan's ship appeared on the detectors. Vila had been keeping his head down by watching the displays, so that he was the first one to see her approach. "That's her!" he squeaked in surprise, "She's early!"

Loren lunged for the controls, as Avon shouted "Vision, put up the force wall!"

+Force wall in place,+ Vision replied promptly, without a hint of its characteristic boredom. +Incoming!+

Silira and Varel had both jumped for their battle stations, and the others scrambled for something to hold on to. Seconds after Vision's announcement, they felt the ship rock. Paige waited for the motion to subside, then started toward the engine room.

***

Servalan's abrupt arrival had also surprised Reyna and Kay, unpleasantly. If Darren had been wrong about this much, what else hadn't he anticipated? Her ship was barely in detector range before she started firing on the mystery ship. She didn't seem to have noticed the mercenaries yet. Reyna counted four plasma bolts launched in quick succession, amazed at the ferocity of attack. The unknown pilot was doing a beautiful job of evading the worst of the barrage, and if he succeeded, Servalan would be out of energy before her enemy fired a single shot.

"Incredible. She must really hate that ship, or she'd be holding back more." Kay was watching, fascinated. Her comment reinforced Reyna's own analysis, but it also reminded her of the need to act. Analysis was for the winner; if you lost, you no longer cared.

Reyna slipped back into her combat mode, calmly reviewing her limited options. She quickly called up the program she'd written earlier. It was a simple, endless loop, which had only one purpose. It would broadcast the destruct code that Darren had assured them would start a chain reaction in Servalan's control computer. All Servalan had to do was open one communications channel, and her ship would self-destruct. Reyna was betting that she couldn't destroy her enemies without saying one final, gloating good-bye, and then . . .

***

Servalan was shouting at the mutoid crew now, although it didn't impress them. "Fire everything we have at that ship. I will destroy them. Avon, do you hear me? I will destroy you!"

One of the mutoids pointed out the mercenaries' ship, which had been unnoticed until now. On seeing what she took for newly-arrived reinforcements, Servalan grabbed for the communicator.

***

"Federation pursuit ship, this is the Empress Servalan--" Reyna smiled fiercely at the familiar, hated voice. Kay only smiled when she saw the Empress's ship explode into a sparkling cloud of dust and plasma.

***

A tremendous cheer erupted on Scalia's flight deck, and some indiscriminate hugging broke out. Even Loren, once she had brought the ship under control, joined in the celebration. Vila remembered to call Paige in the engine room with the news, and she celebrated, privately, with Avon, who had followed her.

***

Kay had tears in her eyes as she stared at the monitor. "Finally, I've got my vengeance. I'm only sorry it took me so long."

Reyna was silent, unwilling to intrude on her friend's thoughts. Finally, Kay shook herself out of it.

"Well," Kay smiled wearily, "that was my only reason for living. And you achieved your goal long ago. We might as well find out who she was trying to kill."

Reyna shrugged philosophically. "Well, when you put it that way . . ." her fingers danced over the controls. "Battle cruiser, this is the Vengeance. Come in please."

"Imaginative name," Kay commented dryly.

"Short notice." Reyna retorted.

***

The celebration on board the Scalia toned down somewhat when they heard Reyna's voice. Loren headed towards the communications station, beating Rusk by seconds. "This is the rebel cruiser Scalia. Please identify yourself and your loyalties."

Blake listened, hoping for the best, as Paige and Avon slipped back onto the flight deck.

Reyna responded coolly, her voice ringing clear in the sudden quiet. "We are mercenaries, and loyal to no one."

Vila's eyes narrowed, and he slanted a glance at Avon, who was also looking thoughtful. Loren continued the interrogation, but they were no longer listening.

Avon strode over to where Orac was sitting quietly and inserted the activator key. Barely waiting for the opening whine, he ordered, "Orac, analyze and identify the voice from the Vengeance, please."

Vila and Paige joined him, with Silira close behind. Before Orac could respond, however, the speakers crackled.

"Did I hear you mention Orac?" Kay's voice was excited. "Is Avon on that ship?"

***

Kay was leaning towards Reyna's communicator, with a silly smile on her face. Reyna was sitting back, with her hands over her eyes, in horror.

"Avon," she muttered. "Of all the people in the universe, we had to run into Avon."

***

All was quiet on Scalia's flight deck, with most of the crew looking at Avon. He was looking at Paige, and Vila. After a moment, he shrugged, and answered, "Dayna? How have you been? Is that Soolin with you?"

Her answer was quick and happy. "Yes. Did you see what we just did?"

"We did indeed," Blake interjected. "Congratulations. How did you do it?"

As she described it in detail, Avon picked up Orac and headed off the flight deck. Paige and Vila, exchanging puzzled looks, followed him to the teleport bay.

Once there, he installed Orac on the custom bench and instructed. "Orac, you claim you're an expert at teleportation?"

*Of course I am. You wouldn't have been able to build this set without me.*

"I suppose not." He glanced up at the two in the doorway, and showed the ghost of a smile. "So, naturally, you're expert at using this setup."

*Naturally. Are you by chance leading up to something?*

Vila grinned at that, but Avon kept his face under strict control. "As always, you're ahead of me. Could you safely transport Dayna and Soolin out of their ship and onto ours?"

In answer, they saw the teleport controls light and move. Seconds later, the teleport bay contained two very surprised and disconcerted mercenaries. They had been sitting down at the moment of transfer, and were consequently a little off-balance.

Paige tried valiantly not to giggle at their inelegant arrival. Vila was less restrained, and earned himself a poisonous look from the blond.

"Thank you, Avon," she spat out, climbing to her feet. She looked around. "Well, all together again. I'm so happy." Her tone implied that she was being less than truthful, and Vila snickered again.

The black girl was less on her dignity, jumping up and smiling widely at Avon. "Well, I'm glad to see you again. You too, I guess," she added with a glance at Vila. "All we need to complete the picture is Tarrant."

Avon's mouth quirked at that, and he edged closer to Paige. "As a matter of fact, we have one. Meet Paige Tarrant; Deeta's daughter, and Del's niece."

Soolin gazed at her with a jaundiced eye. "So, this is a home for old revolutionaries and their dependents?"

Paige smiled back. "No, it's a working revolution."

"Paige is a talented engineer." Avon added quietly.

"Better than you?" Dayna asked quizzically, glancing back and forth between them.

"As much as it pains me to admit it."

Dayna and Soolin exchanged impressed looks. "Well, then, we're pleased to meet you." Dayna stepped forward to shake hands, and Paige smiled warmly.

"I'm glad to meet you, too. I look forward to hearing your adventures."

"Oh, they're nothing extraordinary, I assure you." Soolin replied dryly. "Avon, who's running this excuse for a revolution?"

"Straight back to business, I see." Vila bubbled, falling back into his role of court jester. Paige frowned at him, and he quieted abruptly.

Avon led the way to the flight deck with Soolin. Vila followed docilely, and Dayna joined Paige at the rear, asking, "How did you do that? Get Vila to shut up, I mean. We never could stop him once he got started."

Paige smiled uncertainly. She wanted to defend Vila, but she sensed that they had only seen his clown act; he had worked hard to earn their scorn. "Well, we're friends. I think you'll find that he's changed."

Dayna gave her a newly dubious look, but there wasn't time to say more; they'd reached the flight deck.

***

It took some time to sort out everyone's stories. Dayna and Soolin had been partners ever since they'd escaped Gauda Prime, and Blake was impressed by their network of contacts.

"Just think what we could do with those kind of connections!" he enthused. Loren doused his pretensions. "It's unimportant. The Empress is dead - thoroughly dead. It's over."

Loren was generally being the wet blanket at the victory party. Nearly everyone present had some reason to be glad that Servalan was gone, but the pilot had been deprived of the focus of her life, and her confusion was showing. Avon watched, and understood.

"Come on, Loren," Silira coaxed, "it won't be that bad. There's still your Republican Alliance, or whatever they call it. They'll probably need a security officer. And we can all retire as heroes of the revolution."

"We're not heroes," Vila objected, "we just watched." Silira glared at him, as Dayna, to her own surprise, defended him.

"That might be how it looked, but you people had more to do with it than you think. You got her angry, stirred her up. Do you know that she hadn't left Earth in five years? Once you got her off the planet, her advisors had a clear path to take over."

"The piloting we saw was superlative," Soolin added. "I think she was ready to do anything to destroy you -- it looked like she lost her head. Probably a mutoid crew. She didn't pay any attention to us at all, until she tried to call for reinforcements."

Loren showed no signs of cheering up, and Avon bestirred himself to help. "Well, Servalan's gone," he observed to no one in particular, "but the Federation remains. Who knows if the new leaders will be better or worse?"

That sparked another round of debate, and Paige wondered why he'd said it, until she saw how Loren was reacting. The pilot was speaking to Blake, in low tones. Blake's face grew progressively grimmer, until he looked far more serious than Paige had ever seen him. Then he nodded and stood up, waving for silence.

When he got it, he began his speech. "Brave people, you have done well today. We have won a great victory." Silira winced at his tone. "But we have much work before us still." Paige flashed Avon a See-what-you've-done-now look. "This new government is an unknown quantity. We must be on our guard--"

Just then, there was a brilliant flare of light from the viewport, and a few seconds later, Scalia shivered slightly, and started to drift.

"What the hell was that?" Loren demanded as she scrambled for the flight controls.

+The Federation Pursuit ship blew itself up, of course.+ Vision had regained it's customary nonchalance. +The process started two minutes ago. Don't worry, I put up the force wall.+

Loren stared at the computer interface for a moment. "Why didn't you tell us?"

+I didn't want to interrupt.+

***

In the Empress' private office, Darren was waiting impatiently for news which he hoped would never come. If Servalan were on schedule, she'd have arrived by now, but if she'd survived the ambush, she could easily be delayed. She might even delay on purpose, hoping to catch him and Sassic in an act of treason. The more he thought about that the more likely it seemed, but he also knew how waiting could bring on that kind of paranoia. For now, the best plan was to proceed as normal, and by now, it would be reasonable to contact Fiorinal, to see if she'd left on time. He'd have to be careful what he said; he didn't want rumors spreading too quickly.

***

"Well, we certainly weren't on our guard there!" Silira's amused comment broke the tension, and everyone relaxed.

"You know," Varel offered diffidently, "we might have a hard time claiming to be heroes of the revolution. We don't have any evidence. She disappeared once before, you know."

"She identified herself to us, just before she blew up," Dayna protested.

Soolin caught on a bit sooner. "And that recording just exploded. I see."

"Still, there's nothing to stop the old rumor mill," Varel continued, unperturbed. "You say that the Supreme Commander set you up for this? Brag about it in a few bars. Act mysterious about it when people discuss the strange doings on Earth. Wonder aloud why you haven't seen Servalan lately. All of you. Someone back on Earth probably has an elaborate plan to complete the transfer of power -- but that hasn't been done yet. He's created a power vacuum, and he hopes to step into it. It hasn't happened yet."

Blake was watching the former Federation soldier with new interest and approval. "You know, Varel, you have a good mind for strategy. Let's discuss this further." He drew the younger man off to a corner, with Loren trailing behind jealously.

"Oh, good, the grownups have gone," Silira observed spitefully. Avon's mouth twitched at her assessment, but she didn't notice. "So," she continued, "show of hands, who thinks the revolution is over?" She stuck her own hand up as an example, and Vila followed gladly. After a second's thought, Paige and Dayna joined in. Avon didn't move, but Silira judged his smile was a clear enough answer.

She brought her hand down and continued. "The question is, then, how should we spend our retirement? I have some, shall we say, tangible assets hidden away. Paige and Vila, I know can support themselves; I imagine Avon can too." Avon nodded sardonic thanks at her assessment of his skills.

"What I'm saying is, I've got money, but no plans. I'm open to suggestions." Belatedly, Silira realized that her businesslike tone was making Vila nervous. She reached over to grab his hand. "Vila and I are definitely staying together. Anyone who wants to join us is welcome, if we can get our plans together."

"It's too bad that Aristo is off limits." Paige observed.

"Why should it be?" Avon challenged. "Servalan won't be going back."

"No, it's too isolated." she insisted. "Avon, we ought to be inventing things and making pots of money. No customers on Aristo."

Silira pounced on the notion. "That's perfect. I'll loan you start-up capital, and Vila can sell the things. We'll be set for life."

"You've misspelled that, love," Vila murmured, amused. He was much more relaxed now that he knew she was going to stick with him. He hadn't thought much about a future with her, but it was looking better all the time. "I don't sell things, I steal them."

"Just think of it as a fancy variation," she advised him. "You'll be picking their wallets instead of their pockets."

Paige, meanwhile, was trying to read Avon's expression. She desperately wanted to settle down with him and have a somewhat normal life, but she had no idea what his feelings were. Their relationship was fairly sketchy. She didn't know if she should reassure him that she wanted him, or make sure he knew he was free. She was fairly sure that he wanted her to make the commitment that he was so shy of. And they couldn't discuss it here. He had visibly withdrawn since Dayna and Soolin had come on board; it was certain that he wouldn't open up in their presence.

"So anyway," Silira asked eagerly, "what do you think? Partners?"

Avon stirred, then replied, "I'll have to think about it." He stood, then, and started off towards the crew quarters and his own private room. Paige watched him all the way off the flight deck, but he ignored her. She rose, too, and headed off the other way.

Paige had always thought of the engine room as her refuge. She had a private room now, since her roommate had moved in with Vila, but she didn't consider going there. The thrum of engines working usually soothed her soul.

***

Some time later, Blake came out of his huddle with Varel and Loren to announce new goals.

"Fellow patriots, we have a new direction. We must work to ensure that the Federation has truly reformed - not just changed hands. This will not be an easy fight, but I trust that I have all your support."

"Bad news for you, Blake," Silira spoke up. She knew she was being unusually strident, but she didn't care. "Some of us are going to retire. I didn't sign up for an impossible crusade. I want to get out while I'm ahead -- and while I've still got a head. And Vila--"

"Vila is getting too old for this," he interrupted her. "Silira and I want a chance to have a life. I might even get to stop being terrified all the time."

Soolin and Dayna exchanged raised eyebrows at this. They were starting to notice the change in him.

"And I don't imagine you'll be holding on to Paige or Avon, either," Silira continued. "Separately or together, they're leaving."

"Together, I think," Avon interjected on his way through. "We'll be leaving together." He was off the flight deck again, on his way to the engine room, before anyone could comment.

***

"Paige."

She whirled around to see Avon standing just inside the engine room door. She started forward, then stopped, uncertain.

"Do you want to know what I've decided?" The light was behind him, so that she couldn't quite read his face. Not that she ever could.

"I don't want to pressure you, Avon," she replied honestly, afraid to hope.

He was distracted by that. "How long would you have waited for me to decide?"

"As long as it took," she said simply.

"Then you don't have to wait." He moved forward as he said it, and she found herself in the warmest embrace she'd ever known. After a long moment, he pulled back a fraction, enough so that he could see her face. "Do you want us to join Silira and Vila?"

At first she could only nod, then she found her voice. "Yes, oh yes." She buried her face in his chest once more.

"Good."

THE END