Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Avon picked up Orac and headed for the teleport platform.  “Come on, Tarrant.”

“I can’t.”

“What?”

“If I leave the controls for a second, she’ll flip over and break up.”

“Slave, take over the flight controls.”

//I am most humbly sorry, Master, but I can find no flight controls.//

“It dropped below his tolerance a couple of minutes ago.  It takes talent to fly a dead ship.  So get the hell out of here.  There’s no point in both of us dying.”

//I have failed you.//

Tarrant started, but couldn’t take his eyes off the console.  “Zen?”

"Tarrant, it's no use.  We have to leave. Now."

“Jenna?”

//We return.//

Tarrant awoke, covered in sweat.  He’d barely had a moment to familiarize himself with his new quarters – they’d been at the new base for less than a day, and he’d spent most of that getting everything operational.  By the time he’d gotten to his quarters he was barely awake,  But his FSA training held true – within a few seconds he had recalled all the details, and in thirty he was dressed and headed out the door.

When he reached Blake’s room the door was open.  Blake wasn’t asleep.  He was seated at his desk, flipping through space traffic reports.  He didn’t have to speak for Tarrant to know what he was doing – as soon as they’d gotten the new base running, he’d gone back to trying to locate Jenna.

“Anything?”

“Nothing so far.”  Blake looked up.  “You’re sweating.”

“Yes.  Nightmare.”

“Try warm milk.”

“I’m not here for sleeping advice.  I think it might be related to the nightmares Jenna was having.”

Blake tilted his head.  “What nightmares?”

She didn’t tell him.  No surprise there.  “She’d been having nightmares.  Or rather, nightmare.  The same one every night.”

“What was it about?”

“She wouldn’t tell me.”

“But you think yours was related?”

“It started out with Scorpio crashing on Gauda Prime.  But then I heard Zen.  And Jenna was there.”

Blake rapped his fingers on the desk as he considered.  Finally he spoke.  “That doesn’t seem like an unusual dream to have, under the circumstances.  You weren’t on Liberator at … the end, so your sleeping mind combined it with the Scorpio crash.  And of course Jenna is on your mind.”

“Just before I woke up, Zen said ‘We return’.”

“Wishful thinking?  Besides, what good does it do us?”

“My eyes were locked on the console the whole time.  They were displaying the Scorpio readouts.  When Zen spoke, they changed to the readings at Terminal.  And at the very end they changed again, to readings I’ve never seen before.”

“You’re certain?”

“Trust me, I’m positive.”

“Maybe they were random.”

“Only one way to find out.”

“You remember some of it?”

“I remember ALL of it.”

Chapter Text

Jenna’s step had a spring to it as she headed for the flight deck.  After days of nothing more than cat-naps on the flight deck while Zen regenerated, she had finally gotten a full night’s sleep in a real bed.  In spite of her exhaustion, she had been reluctant to leave when Zen was finally back.  Dr. Havidal tried her best to convince her she needed the sleep; Carnell didn’t bother, no doubt certain that she wouldn’t listen.  It was finally Zen who melded with her and insisted that she sleep.

“Good morning, Zen.”

//Good morning, Jenna Stannis.//

“Status report?”

//Long range detectors report all clear.//

“Good.  I’ve missed you, Zen.”

//As my conscious functioning had ceased, I was incapable of doing the same.  However, I believe I understand.//

Jenna smiled.  “Close enough.”

She turned to the door as Carnell entered.  “Good morning.”

“Local morning, at least, given that ship’s time is naturally arbitrary.  But given that this was your first uninterrupted sleep cycle, it seems a reasonable definition.”

“And have you determined whether it’s going to be a good one yet?”

“It is going to be within the range I’ve estimated, in all probability, and that is about average.  Uneventful.”

“Isn’t everything uneventful to a psychostrategist?  I imagine you’re seldom surprised.”

“It does happen, on occasion.  There is always a range of uncertainty.  But unsurprising does not necessarily mean uneventful.  I would consider our escape from Asphodel rather eventful, despite the fact that it occurred exactly as I had planned it.”

“Exactly?”

Carnell knew precisely what she was asking about.  “Eighty-nine percent probability that Servalan is dead.”

“So not necessarily exactly?”

“On the contrary, you, I, and Dr. Havidal have escaped with the regenerated Liberator, the base on Asphodel has disintegrated, and all pursuit ships were destroyed or disabled.  Servalan’s death was not a certainty.  To date, I have received no information leading me to adjust my calculations.”

“So, what next?”

“Ideally, tracking down Blake’s resistance cell.  They undoubtedly will have figured out by now that you were captured for a different purpose than interrogation, but they still would have no choice but to relocate to a new base of operations unknown to you.  Any communication protocols you are aware of would naturally be suspect.”

“So how do we find them?”

Carnell inclined his head to the left and smiled.  “That is in progress.  In the meantime, Dr. Havidal will have completed reviewing your sleep statistics and, finding them satisfactory, chosen to have a leisurely breakfast before coming here.  She should be here … now.”

“Good morning, Stannis, Carnell.  I hope you both slept well?”

“I suppose I should be asking YOU how I slept,” Jenna replied, “but I found it quite rejuvenating.”

Dr. Havidal looked slightly embarrassed, but only for a moment.  “My apologies, Stannis, but after what Servalan did to you, your recovery is far from complete.  I hope having her former personal physician attending you in some way makes up for my insistence on continuing to treat you.”

“A luxury I haven’t had in the past, but I do appreciate it,” Jenna said.  “Normally I’d be unlikely to have anyone around with even minimal medical training, let alone the best physician in the Federation.”

“Former,” Havidal added forlornly.  “Carnell may have the skills to satisfy any questions about what happened on Asphodel, assuming there’s any evidence that he was in Sleer’s employ at all, but I assuredly do not.  I’m a very poor liar, and the death of my most prominent patient is bound to raise questions.”

Jenna nodded slowly.  “I’m sorry, Doctor.  If it weren’t for your compassion, you wouldn’t have gotten involved in this.”  She looked toward Carnell.  “Although he should be the one apologizing.  He’s the only one of us who chose to be involved.”

“Admittedly, the dénouement was my doing,” Carnell said, “but Dr. Havidal was treating Sleer before I became involved, and I’m certain she prefers knowing the truth over ignorance.”  He directed his gaze to Jenna.  “And while you would have been spared Servalan’s torture had I not informed her that you were alive, you would have died of the same cancer that was killing her.”

“Remind me to thank you for being so helpful,” Jenna replied, with a smile that would terrify anyone who knew her.

“And, of course, the whole ordeal was necessary to bring Zen back.”

Jenna said nothing.  Damn you for knowing I would have gone through it all willingly for that.

Chapter Text

Vila breathed a sigh of relief when Soolin and Dayna gave the all-clear.  “So it’s safe to go inside?”

“No, it’s safe on the outside,” Soolin said.  “We won’t know what’s inside until we get there.”

Vila’s face fell.  “But this is where Orac told us to go, right?”

Soolin ran her fingers over the remains of the paint on the battered door.  The number 24 was barely visible.  “Basslevon Mining Station #24.  If it was really Orac.”

“It had to be Orac,” Vila said hopefully.  “Only Orac could have taken control of the data terminal with all the networks down, right?”

Soolin sighed.  “I’m not the expert.”

“Great,” Vila said, “we need Avon to be able to tell whether it was really Avon or a trap.”

“Or both,” Dayna interjected.

“What do you mean?”

“We all saw him, Vila.  He was sick, he wasn’t thinking straight.  He tricked you into waiting for us so he could retrieve Orac without any of us knowing.  If that was what he was doing.”

“But if he got to the mining station then he had medical supplies.  Soolin said they’d be equipped for Maldurite poisoning.”

“If the diagnostic equipment was working,” Soolin said.  “He didn’t trust my diagnosis.  And if the antitoxin hadn’t been looted or contaminated.  And if he was willing to treat himself – the antitoxin would knock him out for hours.  Any luck with the locks?”

Vila shrugged.  “What’s left of them – no power for the electronic locks, and the door’s been forced half a dozen times.  I’m all done, just need brute force to actually move it.”

“Then I’d better help,” Dayna said.  “Soolin, cover us.”

They forced the door open and headed inside.  It was deserted.

Soolin tested the lights and controls.  “No power.  Looks like everything’s dead.”

“Not everything,” Dayna said.  She was kneeling on the metal flooring, testing it with her hands.  “There’s something running below us.”

“There must be a backup generator.”  Soolin looked over the lift tubes.  “All the lifts are on the lower level.  They may be working, but we can’t summon them from here.”

“Are there stairs?” Dayna asked.

“They’ve all got sealed blast doors,” Vila said.  “It’ll take me a while to get one open, assuming the tracks aren’t too warped to move.”

Soolin and Dayna settled in to wait, but both turned, guns at the ready, at a sudden noise from the lift tubes.

“Looks like someone’s sent a lift up for us,” Dayna said.

Vila watched the lift rattle and shudder to a halt.  “Are they safe?”

“Compared to what?” Soolin replied.

“That’s what I was afraid of.”

Chapter Text

Blake and Tarrant leafed through the reports again, although Tarrant had them memorized by now, and Blake wasn’t far behind.  Finally Blake broke the silence.

“Well, there’s definitely something there.  Something big.”

“And fast.  Time Distort 8 at least, sustained over twenty hours.”

Blake placed the readouts on the table and leaned back.  “A new Federation cruiser?”

“Possibly.  Nothing we’ve heard any inkling of, but that doesn’t prove anything.  Nothing Orac said was in the works.  Before …”

“That was a long time ago.”

“Not long enough,” Tarrant replied, a bitter tone in his voice.

Another long silence, again broken by Blake.

“I’m sorry, Tarrant.  I wish it hadn’t happened.  I wish we could have gotten you all out.”

“Why me?”

“Just the luck of the draw.”

“Not because I had the worst injuries, the least chance of surviving on my own?”

“What?  No!”

“Did you decide I would be the most useful?”

“No, Tarrant!  There was no time.  I just grabbed who I could on the pre-determined escape route.”

Silence again.  This time Tarrant spoke.

“But you would have.”

“Would have what?”

“If you had the time, you would have chosen who would be most useful.”

Blake just stared at him, wide-eyed.

“I notice you aren’t denying it.”

“Tarrant –“

Tarrant pushed back from the table and stood.  “That’s what I thought.  We won’t have the next traffic report for eighteen hours.  I’ll have a few proposed next steps by then.”

Blake watched him step out the door.

Chapter Text

Jenna looked over the course projections.  “I can see that this keeps us fairly safe from encounters with Federation military vessels, not that we couldn’t handle them with Zen fully on-line, but I don’t see how this gets us any closer to finding Blake.”

“Avoiding Federation ships isn’t for Liberator’s benefit,” Carnell replied.  “It’s for Blake’s.  And yours.”

“I’m not sure I follow you.”

“If Blake is going to find us, he needs to be confident that, if it is a trap, it’s one he can handle.  The less Federation traffic, the less risk.”

“And my benefit?”

“You haven’t thought of any scenario in which my actions would be consistent with a plan to betray you to the Federation, but that doesn’t mean you trust me.  You have been carefully monitoring to ensure I haven’t tried to contact anyone, no doubt.  The fewer options I have to do so, the less the likelihood of you – and Zen – missing something.”

“So what IS the purpose of the detailed course?”

“The possible locations of Blake’s new base are not infinite, but they are too numerous to be investigated by brute force.  Having calculated the probability cloud of potential locations, I needed to provide them with ample safe opportunities to investigate us.  They know how fast we are, certainly faster than any ship they have access to.  They therefore will only investigate if we are close enough to be reached safely, but far enough that we won’t be able to pinpoint the location of the base and outrace them back.”

“They?”

“Blake will no doubt rely on Tarrant for such intricate piloting calculations.”

“Tarrant?  I thought he died on Gauda Prime.”

“That was my original assumption, but the progress of your cancer relative to Servalan’s proved that your contact with him occurred after the events on Gauda Prime.  The probability that he is no longer part of Blake’s cell is vanishingly small.”

Jenna gave no reaction which would confirm or deny his conclusions, but she knew full well it didn’t matter.

Chapter Text

Dayna hopped off the diagnostic table.  “I told you, Vila did a pretty good job with what little we found on Scorpio.”

“And you look a lot better, Avon,” Soolin said.

“Yes, your diagnosis was correct.”

“So you trust us now?”

Avon smiled.  “As much as I did before.”

“So, what now?” Dayna asked.

“Well, we’ve got power and supplies here,” Vila said, “and it’s safe, right?”

“For the time being,” Soolin said.  “The Federation may have decided we’re all dead, but Gauda Prime is still crawling with bounty hunters.  And before long there’ll be builders looking to see what infrastructure is usable.”

“They’ve already started,” Avon said.  “Based on Orac’s projections, we need to find a way off-planet as soon as possible.”

“Well it won’t be Scorpio,” Vila said gloomily.  “It would be faster to build a ship from scratch than to make her spaceworthy.”

“Bounty hunters have ships,” said Dayna.  “So do businessmen.”

“Bounty hunters keep their ships close to hand, and with the spaceport in shambles any business consortium is likely to have a heavy security contingent,” Avon said.  “Orac is looking for opportunities, but the odds are against being able to steal one in time.”

“Maybe we can buy passage?” Vila suggested.

Avon smiled.  “When one’s professional thief suggests the honest approach, one is in serious trouble.  Too risky.”

“So where do we find a ship?”

“According to Orac, Blake’s resistance cell has about half a dozen.”

Soolin frowned.  “Isn’t looking for Blake what got us into this mess?”

“Fair point,” Avon replied, “but still our best shot at getting on a ship as soon as possible.  Orac has tracked down the base they probably went to after leaving GP.  They’ve since abandoned it, but are probably still in this sector.”

“If they abandoned it, they must have thought it was compromised,” Soolin said.  “If they’re still on the run it may not be such a safe option.  If we can even convince them to help us.”

Dayna spoke hesitantly.  “Any news of ,,, Tarrant?”

Avon sighed.  “Nothing concrete.  Dayna and I could have died, and Tarrant was seriously injured before the base collapsed.  He would have needed better medical facilities than the ones here.”

“So you,” Vila began, paused, and started again, “you don’t think he made it?”

Avon licked his lips.  “According to Orac, unless someone knew a safe escape route and was able to get him medical attention immediately, it’s unlikely.”

“What exactly are you hinting at, Avon?”

“If he’s alive, he’s probably with Blake.”

Chapter Text

Blake threw the flight charts down on the desk.  “Their course doesn’t make any sense.”

Tarrant remained silent, his eyes closed.  After a moment they flew open.  “Hang on.”  He grabbed a marker and began drawing circles on the charts.  Blake watched intently, chewing his thumb.

“Those are all locations we considered for bases,” Blake said.  “Their course doesn’t go near any of them.”

“But it doesn’t get too far from them, either,” Tarrant said.  “It’s a predictable circuit, close enough to our likely locations that we could get there with minimal risk, but far enough that they wouldn’t be able to trace our course back to the base.”

“Making it too tempting to pass up,” Blake said.

“Like the Antioch.”

“Another trap?”

“Maybe,” Tarrant replied, “but it doesn’t feel right.  At this point we don’t have enough information to plan a capture.  All we could do is go in for a closer look.  That ship is fast, but unless they’ve developed some other new technologies, they wouldn’t be able to capture a scout vessel.”

“It seems like an awfully large allocation of resources just for a chance to shoot down a pilot.  They went to a lot of trouble to capture Jenna alive.  Not to downplay your value, Tarrant, but there are better things they could be using that ship for than just bait.”

“There’s another possibility,” Tarrant said.  “Jenna doesn’t know our current location, and any communication protocols she knows could have been … extracted from her.  If she escaped, she’d need us to find her.”

Blake stood and paced.  “I want you to figure out three plausible scenarios for this being a trap.  Make them good.  Then we’ll decide whether to take the bait.”

Chapter Text

//A question, Jenna Stannis.//

She looked up from her desk.  “What is it, Zen?”

//What is it like to dream?//

She tapped her cheek with the stylus, then put it down.  “It’s hard to say, Zen.  When you’re dreaming, it seems real.  Things can happen that don’t make sense.  Pieces can be missing, places change suddenly.  When you’re awake you can see that it couldn’t be real, but while you’re dreaming, you just kind of go along with it.”

//What is sleepwalking?//

“While humans sleep, their muscles are inhibited, so they don’t actually do the things they’re dreaming about.  In some people, it doesn’t work quite right, and they do the things they dream about.  Why do you ask?”

//My analysis suggests that I have been dreaming.  And sleepwalking.//

Jenna pursed her lips, not sure how to respond.  “Do you want to tell me about it?”

//Before I resumed normal functioning, I had a … dream.  You were in danger.  I fired the neutron blasters.  Ship records indicate that the neutron blasters were fired, but there was nothing in the command buffer showing why or how.//

Jenna let out a deep breath.  “I think that was Carnell’s doing.  He had been sending me dreams, using a fragment of Liberator he recovered from Terminal.  When we took off from Asphodel I was the only one on the flight deck.  I couldn’t fire the neutron blasters.  He sent you a dream to make you fire them.”

//Is that what your dreams were like?//

“I … I don’t know.  You process information differently than people do.  Maybe it was similar.”  She paused to consider.  “Of course, I don’t know if people dream the same way.  I only know my own dreams.  Maybe everyone is different.”

Zen didn’t reply for a long time, but the flashes on his fascia suggested to Jenna that he was deep in thought.

//That was not the first time.  There are no records in my data banks, but I have … a memory.  This makes no sense.  How can I ... remember something which is not in my memory banks?//

“I don’t know, Zen.  What do you remember?”

//Liberator was in orbit around Terminal.  All systems were failing.  Auto-repair capacity was insufficient.  Analysis failed to find a solution.  This is all recorded.  Records end when I ceased to function.//

“But you remember something more?”

//I remember activating the teleport.//

“Who did you teleport?”

//Servalan.//

Chapter Text

Vila woke to the not-unfamiliar sound of Avon arguing with Orac.

“Run self-diagnostics.”

//I do not need to run self-diagnostics, Kerr Avon.  I am performing to my usual exemplary standards.//

“Run them anyway.”

“What’s going on?” Vila asked.

//I was asked to locate a ship which could safely transport us off Gauda Prime.  I have done so.//

“So what’s the problem?”

Avon smiled.  “Go on, Orac, tell him what ship you’ve found.”

//I have located Liberator.//

“That’s impossible,” Vila said.  “Liberator was destroyed.”

“Even our resident genius Vila has detected a problem with your analysis.”

“Has the System started working again?” Vila asked.

//As I have informed Kerr Avon, the System is still non-functional.//

“Did they build more DSV’s than the ones we knew about?”

//As I have informed Kerr Avon, only three DSV’s were constructed.//

“And they were all destroyed!” Vila exclaimed.  Avon remained silent, his smile growing more ebullient as Vila asked the same questions he had already asked.

//That is correct.//

“Did someone else build one?”

//Only the System was capable of doing so.//

“But you found a fourth?”

//Negative.//

“But you said you found one!”

//I did not say I found a fourth.  I said I found Liberator.//

“But Liberator was destroyed.”

//That is correct.//

“And no one is capable of rebuilding it.”

//That is also correct.//

“So it can’t be Liberator!”

//Nevertheless, I have located Liberator.  It is complete and functional.//

Vila just looked at Avon, not knowing what to ask next.

“It gets better,” Avon said.  “Orac, tell him who is piloting the ship.”

//The pilot is Jenna Stannis.//

Vila’s eyes grew wide.  “Jenna’s alive?”

“Before you throw a celebration, Vila, remember that she is alive on Liberator, which we know is impossible.”

Vila considered.  “Have we gone back in time?”

“Amazing, Vila,” Avon said, “you’ve come up with a theory even I hadn’t thought of.  One which matches the rest of Orac’s report for implausibility.”

//We have not gone back in time.//

“Okay, let’s think this through,” Vila said.

“Don’t strain yourself.”

Vila ignored him.  “Liberator was destroyed, and no one could rebuild her.  So where did she come from?”

//Liberator was born.//

“Born?  From what?”

//From a zygote, of course.//

“A zygote?  Like, from sex?”

//That is correct.//

“So she has … parents?”  Even Avon was listening intently to Vila’s line of questioning.

//That is correct.//

Vila was almost afraid to ask.  “So who are the parents?”

//Jenna Stannis and Servalan.//

Avon scoffed.  “From the sublime to the ridiculous.”

“How can two humans give birth to a space ship?”

//Obviously they cannot.  Aside from the size difference, the environment required to grow Liberator does not match the human reproductive system.  After the zygote was formed it was grown elsewhere.//

“Okay, so how can two humans make a … spaceship egg.”

//Information unavailable.//

Avon turned away.  “How unsurprising.”

Vila was baffled.  “How do you know all this, but don’t know how it could happen?”

//No computer I have located contains this information.  Zen’s memory banks do not contain this information.//

“Wait, Zen?  Zen is alive?”

//Of course.  Zen is an integral part of Liberator.  The ship would not be sustainable without Zen.//

“But Zen doesn’t know how it happened, other than that his parents are …”

“Please do not even say it,” Avon said.

Vila was tempted to say it was probably one of Avon’s fantasies, but refrained.

“You say Liberator was grown elsewhere.  Where?”

//According to flight records, the origin was the planet Asphodel.//

“But you can’t find any computer records on Asphodel?”

//There are no computers on Asphodel.//

“None?  So what IS on Asphodel?”

//There is nothing on Asphodel but a planetary ocean of primordial material.//

“Nothing?  No people?”

//Negative.//

“Plants?  Animals?”

//Negative.//

Avon had turned back to face Orac.  “Any man-made structures?”

//There was previously a small Federation research installation on the planet.  It no longer exists.//

“It was abandoned?”

//It has been destroyed.//

Avon began to pace.  Vila watched him carefully.  Finally Vila spoke “Do you think it’s possible?”

“It seems highly unlikely, but bits and pieces seem to fit.  Orac, please run self-diagnostics.  Then tell us everything you know about this new Liberator.”

If Orac were capable of sighing, it would have.  //Very well, Kerr Avon.  I will run self-diagnostics.  In the interim, perhaps you would like to take advantage of the medical facilities to run one on yourself.//

Chapter Text

“Scenario 1,” Tarrant began, “they have the ability to take control of another ship.  Orac could do it.”

Blake considered.  “They would have had to capture Avon alive and gotten Orac’s location from him.  Seems unlikely that there would be no chatter about it somewhere.  Could they have replicated Orac on their own?”

“Unlikely.  Ensor is dead.  Avon tried for years to duplicate Orac and was unsuccessful.  Scenario 2:  they have some method of latching onto a ship and towing it in spite of the pilot having engine power.”

“A mechanical grapple wouldn’t be fast enough.  Some kind of force field?  Gravitational wave?”

“Nothing that we’ve heard any rumors about.  There were projects about eight years ago, but they all failed and were cancelled.  The energy expenditure required to do it without destroying the target was prohibitive.  Scenario 3:  they have some bait which the pilot would be compelled to act on, despite having minimal information and no plan.”

They both knew what that would be.

“Would you attempt a rescue?”

“Without more information, it would be impossible to even attempt it.”

Blake rubbed his chin.  “What if they offered a trade, you for her?”

“They wouldn’t give her up unless they had already extracted everything she knew,” Tarrant replied, “and had her ,,, programmed to be a sleeper agent.  I would be an idiot to agree to it.”

“No offense, but …” Blake said hesitantly, “if you saw her with your own eyes … would you?”

Chapter Text

“Wake up, Carnell.”

He opened his eyes to see Jenna standing over him, gun in hand.

“Hmm,” he mused, “congratulations.  Based on the information available to me, I didn’t expect this.  You must have uncovered some new information to prompt this … surprise.”

“You were able to send us both dreams, me and Servalan.”

“Not exactly.  First of all, I didn’t know beforehand that it would manifest as dreams.  And all I was able to introduce was one unusual sentence.  It was intended for Servalan, but you received it as well, as you also had some of Liberator’s essence attempting to reach out.”

“But we both dreamed about Liberator … dying.”

“That would certainly have been the foremost … impression in the fragment of Liberator I retrieved from Terminal and used to transmit my message.  And the same for what had been implanted in Servalan.”

Jenna took a moment to digest this, still keeping an eye on Carnell.  “You also sent a dream to Zen’s subconscious, to make him fire the neutron blasters.”

“Again, not so much an entire dream as an impression.  Just the thought that you were in danger, and the cause was the base on Asphodel.  I had already ensured that materials stored in the base, combined with Asphodel’s own primordial soup, would explode when hit with a plasma weapon.”

“That I was in danger?”

“Of course.  I performed psychological studies of all the actors, including Zen.  His subconscious is in many ways more like a human mind than a computer.  I determined that the most reliable trigger for an instinctive defense response would be his need to protect you.”

“More than his need to protect himself?”

“Self-preservation is a powerful instinct, but I have found that when the objective is to cause someone to act reflexively, without thinking, love is a more reliable lever.”

“Love?”

Carnell shrugged.  “To whatever extent an artificial construct’s subconscious can feel such emotions.  He is sentient, after all.  And we don’t really know how humans experience love, either.”

“But you know enough to manipulate their emotions.”

“Of course.”

Jenna paused.  “Is that the only time you’ve infiltrated Zen’s subconscious?”

Carnell’s brow furrowed.  It struck Jenna as an expression he seldom wore.

“Yes.”

“Zen told me he had a dream once before.”

Carnell nodded slowly.  “And there’s the missing data.  Reverse-engineering your unexpected behavior, you wonder if I was responsible for that dream as well.  And since Zen had only recently been resurrected, his previous dream had to have occurred before then, either while his essence was attempting to grow inside you and Servalan, or before Liberator was destroyed.”

“So you’re claiming it wasn’t your doing?”

“I did not have the ability to do so until I acquired a fragment of Liberator from Terminal, so if it occurred prior to Liberator’s destruction, it would not have been possible.  Did he also dream of the quote from Aristophanes I sent to you and Servalan?”

“No, he didn’t.”

“Then it wasn’t my doing.  But judging from your response, the possibility that it was made you angry enough to consider killing me.  Now, what would elicit that reaction from you?  You already knew that I was responsible for arranging your capture, so that wasn’t it.  If Zen had a dream which caused him to stop fighting the enzyme destroying Liberator, perhaps?  But that was a losing battle, such a dream would hardly have made a difference.  A dream which made him feel that he had failed?  That would have been cruel, certainly, but then your efforts would be directed at reassuring Zen that he had done all he could and it wasn’t his fault.”

Carnell snapped his fingers.  “He dreamed about his last subconscious act before he died.  You needed to know if it was I that told him to save Servalan.”

Jenna suddenly looked up.  “We’ve changed course.”

Carnell sat up.  “Evading a Federation ship?”

“There was nothing on long-range detectors before I woke you.”

“They couldn’t have gotten this close undetected.  Could it be Tarrant?”

Jenna’s face darkened.  “Dr. Havidal.”

Chapter Text

Avon paced.  Dayna sat perfectly motionless.

Soolin was checking her gun, but Vila could see that her real focus was on Orac.  Vila was ready to crack, but Avon broke the silence first.

“What’s the hold-up, Orac?”

//Liberator is resisting course changes.//

“But Zen knows it’s you, right?” Vila asked.

//Insufficient information.//

“How is Zen circumventing your instructions?” Avon asked.

//Insufficient information.//

Vila kicked the table.  “Well get some information!  You’ve controlled Liberator before!”

//Liberator is resisting course changes.//

Dayna rested her hands on Vila’s shoulders, gently guiding him away from the table.  “Just keep trying, Orac.”  Soolin noted every detail as Dayna sat Vila down and perched beside him, whispering to him.

“It’s no use, Avon,” Soolin said.  “We’ll have to find another ship.”

“There’s no ship safer than Liberator.”

“Not if Orac can’t control it.”

Avon considered.  “Six more hours, Orac.  If you still can’t control Liberator after that, resume prior search parameters.”

//Understood.//

Chapter Text

“We finally figured out what it was doing,” Blake said, “and now it changes course?”

“This one makes even less sense,” Tarrant said.  “It’s almost as if—“

“—as if more than one person were fighting over the controls?”

“Yes,” said Tarrant, “at least three, from the looks of it.”

“All on the flight deck?  Or remotely?”

“No way to tell.”

“Any idea who?”

Tarrant tossed down the readouts.  “Not enough data to evaluate whether it’s Jenna’s style.”

“So it’s back to square one.”

“Unless I go get a closer look.”

Blake considered. “Get ready.”

Chapter Text

When Jenna and Carnell reached the flight deck, Dr, Havidal was standing with her back to the door, hands clasped behind her, watching the viewscreen.

“Turn around slowly, Doctor,” Jenna said.

Dr. Havidal turned.  “What’s wrong?”

“The possible permutations are rather numerous,” Carnell replied.

Jenna kept her gun on Dr. Havidal as she looked over the readings on the pilot’s console.  “Status, Zen?”

//Command path failure.  Rerouting.//

“What did you do to him?” Jenna snarled.

“Do?  What do you mean?  I haven’t done anything.”

“Did you change our course?” Carnell asked evenly.

“I don’t even know how to.”

“Zen, give me manual control.”

//Command path failure.  Rerouting.//

Carnell was at the Ops console.  “It looks like a virus trying to alter course.”  He tilted his head.  “Actually, there’s also a remote system trying to set a different course.  They’re fighting it out, and Zen is trying to re-establish the original course.”

“There’s nothing on any of the detectors,” Jenna said.  “No ships, planets, stations within maximum range.”

“Curious.  Either it’s faking being remote, or it’s able to pinpoint Liberator and access its systems over a tremendous distance,”

Jenna could think of two possibilities:  either the System was functional and calling Liberator home, or someone was using Orac.  “Still no manual control.  Can you determine what the alternate courses are?”

“I’ll try.”  After a few minutes, Carnell said, “the virus is trying to direct us to a location in sector 1726L.  There doesn’t seem to be anything there.  It may be intended to receive further instructions once it arrives.  The remote system is trying to set a course for Gauda Prime.”

Jenna bit her lip.  Carnell must have figured out that it’s probably Orac.  The question is whether it’s Avon or a trap.  “How do we regain manual control?”

“If we can take Zen offline I can purge the virus.  You’ll be on full manual for forty-seven minutes until Zen is back online.  However, unless the remote attacker gives up when Zen is offline, you may lose manual control when Zen comes back online.”

“It’s a start.  Do it.”

After a moment, Carnell said, “Easier said than done, it seems.  Zen is trying to fight me off as well.”

“Zen, listen to me.  You need to shut yourself down so we can purge the virus attacking you.”

//Command path failure.  Rerouting.//

“Zen, this is Jenna.  You need to shut down.”

A long silence.

“Please, Zen, this is Jenna.  Shut down.”

She closed her eyes and tried to focus on the part of Zen inside her.  Please, Zen, you need to shut down.

Zen’s fascia went black.

“He’s offline,” Carnell said.  “We’re on full manual.”

In open space with nothing nearby, manual control wouldn’t normally require her undivided attention, but Orac was still trying to control the lower-level systems, and Jenna wasn’t ready to relinquish control yet.  Unfortunately, the sheer number of subsystems gave the computer the advantage.  Zen could control everything simultaneously; no human could.  Eventually, Jenna would lose.

And now there was another ship on the detectors.

“We’ve got company,” Jenna said.

“How many?”

“Hard to tell without Zen.  Could be one, could be several in close formation.”

“I can have Zen fully online in eight minutes.”

“Do it.”

Chapter Text

“Status, Orac?” Avon asked.

//Zen is offline.  I am attempting to override manual controls at lower levels.//

Avon began pacing.  “Liberator has organic circuitry rather than tariel cells. How many of the subsystem ganglia can you access without Zen?”

//Forty-six percent.//

“It’ll be a bumpy ride.  What are the odds that you can bring it here undamaged?”

Lights flashed inside the Plexiglas box.  //Eighty-eight percent.//

Not good enough.

“What does that mean?” Vila asked.

“It means that without Zen acting as the communications conduit, Orac can only control half of the lower-level functionality.  That means a limited ability to make all the fine-tuning adjustments necessary for stable flight.  There is a risk of losing control or colliding with objects.  That would not be good.”

“How not-good are we talking about?”

“It might not get here at all, or not in any condition to be of use to us.”

“Well, what if Orac released control?”

“That would depend on why Zen is offline.  If neither Orac nor Zen were in control, no human crew could manage it for the time necessary.”

Chapter Text

*Angel Two to Mother Hen.*

Blake rolled his eyes and jabbed the comm button.  “Do you have visual?”

*Not yet.  Should be in visual range in forty.  They’re still moving erratically.  If they’ve detected me, they don’t appear to be taking any action in response.*

“Be careful.  As soon as you get a visual and a scan I want you out of there.  Sooner if they make any threatening moves.”

*Roger that.  Scan initiated.  I’ll have a visual any second now.*

Blake waited, but heard nothing.  “Do you see it?”

Tarrant’s voice was soft and halting.  *It’s … it’s Liberator.*

“Another DSV?”

*No.  I know these scans like the back of my hand.  It’s Liberator.*

“How?”

*I have no idea.*

“Finish the scan and get back here.  We’ll keep tracking its course from here.”

*Agreed.*  Ninety seconds passed.  *Scan complete, heading home.*

Ninety more seconds.  *We have a problem.*

“What’s wrong?”

*Helm’s not responding.  Something’s overriding my course commands.*

Blake had a sneaking suspicion where Tarrant was being taken.  Tarrant confirmed it.

*I’m on course for Gauda Prime.*

Chapter Text

“Zen is fully online,” Carnell said.

“Zen, can you maintain the course I’ve set?”

//Working … affirmative.//

Jenna breathed a sigh of relief.  She rubbed her eyes, feeling like she hadn’t even blinked in forty-seven minutes.  She looked over the flight deck, giving her eyes a chance to focus on something other than the pilot station readouts,

“Where’s Dr. Havidal?”

Carnell looked up, having also been fully occupied dealing with the computer virus.  “She’s not behaving in accordance with her profile.”

“Zen, can you locate Dr. Havidal?”

//That information is unavailable.//

“I think you need to rework your profile,” Jenna said.  “Could she be an imposter?”

“She would have to be a very good one.  I saw her treating Servalan.  I doubt she would have allowed it if she knew it wasn’t really Dr, Havidal.”

“Could she have been replaced?” Jenna asked.

“By a clone, perhaps?”  Carnell considered the possibilities.  “She has acted as I would expect every time she’s been within our sight.”

“Did she infect Zen with the virus?”

“It couldn’t have been done before Zen had regenerated.  The technology to tamper with the genetic blueprint in the seed is far beyond anything of which I am aware.  Either there is another person on board, or there is another personality.”

“Another personality?”

“A subconscious agent implanted in one of us, triggered by some condition to take certain actions and then re-submerge.”

“So even if it were one of us,” Jenna said, “we wouldn’t know or remember doing it.”

“Exactly.  Dr. Havidal is the most likely candidate, but there would have been ample opportunity to implant one in you during your captivity.  I can’t even rule out myself.  All of us have acted normally when in the presence of the others, but we’ve all had opportunities to act with no one else around.”

“Great.”

//Information.//

“What is it, Zen?”

//The scout ship which has been observing us has changed course.//

“Can you identify where it’s heading?” Jenna asked.

//Affirmative.  It is no longer engaging in maneuvers to avoid our detectors.//

“He wouldn’t be doing that if he were heading back to Blake’s base,” Carnell noted.

“Where is he going, Zen?”

//He is on a course for Gauda Prime.//

“The same one Orac is trying to set for Liberator?” Carnell asked.

//Affirmative.//

Jenna took a deep breath.  “Save your energy, Zen.  Let Orac set our course.  We’ve got to find Dr. Havidal.”

Chapter Text

//Information.//

All four of them looked at Orac.  Avon spoke.  “What is it?”

//Both vessels are now on course for Gauda Prime.//

“Both vessels?  What’s the other vessel?”

//A small scout ship.  Records indicate it was constructed from parts shipped to this sector from Beritok Major through a series of fictitious corporations.  It is therefore highly likely that it belongs to Blake’s cell.//

“How long until they get here?”

//At speeds calculated to allow them to replenish energy reserves en route, Liberator will reach Gauda Prime in nineteen standard hours.  The second ship will require seventy-one hours.//

Avon paced as he considered the options.  “We can’t have Liberator in orbit for two days waiting for the other ship.  It’s bound to be detected.”

“So forget the other ship,” Soolin said.  “We don’t need it if we have Liberator.”

“We may need it to contact Blake.  Orac, how long until you can communicate with the pilot of the scout ship?”

//Sixty-six standard hours.//

“It would be safer not to break cover until then,” Dayna said.

“Agreed.  Orac, reduce Liberator’s speed so that it will reach Gauda Prime at the same time as the scout.  That will allow us five hours to determine our next steps.”

//Affirmative.//

“What if the Federation is already tracking them,” Vila said, “and has already figured out where they’re going?”

“Then it is going to be a very eventful five hours.”

Chapter Text

Blake paced around the table.  Tarrant was very reliable about reporting in on schedule, but every time he was due Blake wondered if this would be the time he failed to report.

Not that there was anything Blake could do about it.  Tarrant was on his own, in a ship he couldn’t control.

*Angel Two to Mother Hen.*

“Any changes?”

*Negative.  Liberator is still matching my course and speed.*

“And you still haven’t been able to communicate with them?”

*Comm channels are all locked.  At least they’re locked on our channel.  I assume Orac will switch to a channel to speak to me when I’m in range.  Hopefully I’ll be able to switch back to our channel afterwards, but this ship doesn’t have a main computer to coordinate systems.  Orac may have to freeze everything.  I have to depend on Avon releasing control once he’s told me what he wants.*

“If it is Avon.”

*Yes.  If not I’m a sitting duck.*

Chapter Text

Jenna spoke into the teleport bracelet.  “Section 7 clear.  Anything on your end?”

*Section 12 clear,* Carnell replied.  *Starting section 14.*

“Starting section 9.  Zen reports flight deck is still clear.  Are you sure she can’t re-introduce the virus from somewhere else on the ship?”

*Not my specialty, but unlikely.  There’s no telling what other damage she might be capable of.  Disabling communication with Zen would be a prime target, but she would expect us to head back to the flight deck as soon as that happened, which wouldn’t leave her enough time.  Not knowing her objectives or skills, it’s difficult to anticipate what backup plan she may have prepared in the event she wasn’t able to control Liberator’s course.*

“Unless it’s actually one of us.”

*Which makes our frequent contact schedule vitally important.  I know your profile in minute detail.  If your persona were replaced, it would be apparent to me.*

“Is it frequent enough?  I could do a lot of damage in fifteen minutes.”

*True.  It’s the optimal compromise between allowing us to make progress, and preventing an alter-ego from making progress.*

“And what if you’re the enemy agent?”

*We’ll have to trust in your instincts to detect a change in my behavior.*

“That doesn’t sound like standard psychostrategist procedure.”

*One sometimes needs to operate with imperfect information.*

“Fortunately, Dr, Havidal is a pacifist.  You said she was incapable of shooting Federation guards to escape to Liberator.”

*That is correct.  However, her alter-ego may not be.*

“So she might still shoot us.”

*Yes.  On the bright side, however, that would confirm that she is the sleeper agent.*

“Always good to know there’s a bright side.”

Chapter Text

//Secure channel established.  Pilot, identify yourself.//

Tarrant weighed the options.  “Orac, this is Tarrant.”

Four pairs of eyes locked on Orac.  //Voiceprint confirmed.//

“Tarrant, this is Avon.  What’s your condition?”

“Fit as a fiddle.  And yours?”

“Alive.  So are Dayna, Vila, and Soolin.”

Tarrant pumped a fist.  “You made it.  You all made it.”

“Are you working with Blake?”

“Yes.  Are you secure?”

“For the time being.  If we can get off this rock.”

“Unfortunately, I can’t fit you all in this ship.  But I notice you’ve made other arrangements.  Not that I can figure out how it’s possible.”

“We’re not quite sure how it’s possible ourselves.”

“Do you know who’s on board?”

Avon looked at Vila.  “According to Orac, the pilot is Jenna Stannis.”

Tarrant leaned back and released a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding.  “Is she … she was captured.  I don’t know what they’ve done to her.”

Avon rubbed his chin.  “Nor do we.  We haven’t made contact yet.  Orac was able to match the pilot station data to her profile.  We don’t know if she’s alone.”

“Speaking of being alone,” Tarrant said, “I’ll be in orbital range in less than five hours.  I’d like to avoid the reception I got last time.”

“Orac’s been monitoring ship traffic.  They don’t seem to be as … trigger-happy these days, even when ships haven’t filed flight profiles.  If Orac detects anything, he’ll inform you and release control to you.”

“Speaking of control, can Orac unlock my comm channels?”

“Do you have secure communications?”

“Can Orac identify the frequencies I used to contact my home base?”

Avon looked at the Plexiglas box.

//Negative.//

“Then I have secure communications,” Tarrant said.

“Very well.” Avon replied.  “Let him know … everything.”

Chapter Text

“Jenna?  What’s going on?”

Jenna holstered her blaster carefully, making sure she could fire it instantly if necessary.  “I’m glad you’re safe, Doctor.  We seem to have had a saboteur, but everything’s under control now.”

“Oh, that’s a relief.  And you’re unhurt?”

“I’m fine.  Why did you leave the flight deck?”

“Me?  I didn’t want to be in the way.  There didn’t seem to be anything I could help with.”  She paused.  “Wait, you don’t think I did it?  I wouldn’t begin to know how.”

“Just trying to cover all bases.”

“You’ve got a psychostrategist on board and you suspect me?”

“Carnell is untrustworthy, but eminently logical.”

Dr. Havidal scoffed.  “By his logic, no doubt.  I’m sure he can make any argument convincing.  Where is he?”

“We had to split up to find you.”

“So he’s alone?”

“Not for long.”  She spoke into the bracelet.  “Carnell, I’ve found her.  Meet us on the flight deck.”

Jenna and Dr. Havidal reached the flight deck first.  “Status, Zen?”

//All systems functional.  Energy reserves at maximum.  Detectors show no unusual ship behavior around Gauda Prime.  Status is firm.//

“How long until we reach communication range?”

//Seven minutes.//

“I want no communications to anyone except me without my authorization.”

//Confirmed.//

“Is that wise?” Dr. Havidal asked.

“No doubt she wants to protect the identity of the person bringing us here,” Carnell said.

“Which you have already figured out, no doubt,” Havidal replied.

Carnell inclined his head.  “I know the probabilities.”

“So is it friend or foe?” Jenna asked.

Carnell smiled.  “That depends on which we are.”

Dr. Havidal appeared puzzled.  “What do you mean?”

“There is still the question of the saboteur.”

“You mean he’s still on the loose?  On the ship?”

“The virus had to have been introduced after Zen had regenerated.  There have been no opportunities since then for anyone to leave the ship.”

“So he’s hiding somewhere?”

“Yes.  Perhaps in plain sight.”

Dr. Havidal turned to Jenna.  “Do you find talking to him as infuriating as I do?”

“Frequently.”

“Do you know what he’s hinting at?”

“We’ve found no sign of anyone else on board,” Jenna said.  “It’s a big ship, but the saboteur would have had to introduce the virus from the flight deck.  The odds are that it’s one of us.”

“I thought we had established that it didn’t make sense for any of us to run away on Liberator if we intended to return to the Federation.  You’re still a wanted criminal; I’m a doctor whose high-profile patient died.  Carnell was running the show – he didn’t need an elaborate ruse.  He had saved Servalan, captured you, and re-created Liberator.”

“What if one of us wanted to sell Liberator to a third party?” Jenna said.

“To whom?  Who could offer me or Carnell anything like the opportunities we had in the Federation?  Not to mention keeping us safe from them.  And I’m no psychostrategist, Jenna, but I think I know you well enough by now to know you wouldn’t part with Liberator.”

“Your reasoning is quite sound, Doctor,” Carnell said, “which is why I believe the enemy is not one of us, but hiding inside one of us.  A second personality which can be triggered to take over.”

Dr. Havidal considered this.  “It would certainly be within the capabilities of the Federation.  They obviously held Jenna captive long enough to have done so, and I’m no longer naïve enough to think they couldn’t have done it to me.  Do you know your own profile well enough to detect someone tampering with you, psychostrategist?”

Carnell smiled.  “It’s unlikely, given the precautions I normally take, but not impossible.”

 “I still don’t understand why,” Jenna asked.  “Like the Doctor said, the Federation already had Liberator.”

“There are three possibilities,” Carnell said.  “The first would be that they want to locate someone or something else.  The likeliest targets would be Blake and Orac.  But if that were the case, the sleeper agent was activated too soon.  It would have stayed hidden until the target was found.  It seems unlikely that such an intricate operation would rely on an unreliable trigger mechanism.”

“Agreed,” Jenna said.  “And the other two?”

“The second would be as a failsafe which was not directly connected to the Asphodel project.  Both Dr. Havidal and I are valuable assets.  While even my ego is not so huge that I would deny the existence of other competent psychostrategists, I nevertheless would rate it highly unlikely that they would have had an opportunity to implant an agent in my subconscious, as I have only recently returned to the Federation.  Dr. Havidal, however, as a known pacifist and humanitarian, might have been considered a defection risk.  During her long service with the Federation, someone may have decided to prepare for such an eventuality before she had developed any doubts.”

“So what’s the third possibility?” Dr. Havidal asked.

“That it isn’t the Federation, but a third party.  They would need to have a mole deeply embedded in Servalan’s inner circle to know what we were doing on Asphodel, or at least that it would be extremely valuable, and to be able to arrange for one of us to be implanted with an enemy agent.  In that case, given the time constraints, Jenna would be the likeliest candidate.”

“I believe there may be a problem with your reasoning, Carnell,” said Dr. Havidal.  “I notice that, conveniently, you are the least likely candidate for implantation.  You are also, having carefully profiled all the relevant actors, the most likely person to detect something amiss.  Therefore, either whoever is behind this did not expect a psychostrategist to be involved, or they would want to make sure you were the sleeper agent.”

Carnell nodded.  “Very well reasoned, Doctor.  However, it seems that the situation is about to become more complicated.  Judging from Jenna’s preoccupation with her console, I would say she now knows the identity of the person bringing us to Gauda Prime, and as she doesn’t seem to be intent on escaping, she is convinced that it is her friends.”

“Her friends, or the sleeper agent’s friends?”

“I imagine we’ll know soon enough.”

Chapter Text

//Communication channel has been established.  Audio and video communication denied.  Only written communication with pilot’s station is accepted.//

“That doesn’t sound good,” Vila said.

“Very well understated, Vila,” Avon said.  “Orac, have you confirmed the identity of the pilot?”

//The pilot’s identity is confirmed.  We are in direct communication with Jenna Stannis.//

“Are you certain?” Soolin asked.

//I would not have said so if I were not.  All biomarkers are confirmed.//

“Why is she refusing audio and video?” Dayna asked.

//Jenna Stannis states that there are two other individuals present:  Mara Havidal, medical specialist, and Carnell, psychostrategist.//

“That is not good news.” Avon said.

“A psychostrategist is never good news,” Vila said.

//Jenna Stannis also reports suspicion that one of them has been implanted with a secondary personality with unknown trigger.//

“The more the merrier,” Soolin said.  “I take it she hasn’t identified whom.”

//Affirmative.  Liberator was infected with a virus which attempted to set a course for sector 1726L.  The virus has been eradicated.//

“What’s in sector 1726L?” Dayna asked.

//There are no known planetary systems or artificial structures in sector 1726L.//

“Is there any information on Dr. Havidal?” Avon asked.

“Dr. Mara Havidal, age 57, born on Earth, graduate of Central Medical Academy, specialist in autoimmune syndromes and general surgery.  Former position:  personal physician to the President.  Current position:  personal physician to Commissioner Sleer.”

“Even better,” Vila moaned.

“I take it there is little information on Carnell?”

//That is correct.  He is known to be a first-class psychostrategist, all other details have been expunged.//

“So what do we do now?” Dayna asked.

Avon began to pace.  “What a very good question.”

Chapter Text

“I have new information,” Tarrant said, “and it isn’t good.”

“What have you got?” Blake asked.

“Orac says the pilot is definitely Jenna, but she says she has two other people with her:  Sleer’s personal physician and a psychostrategist.”

Blake chewed his thumb.  “Not good at all.”

“She thinks they’re legitimate defectors, but one of them has been implanted with a sleeper personality who can take over without their knowledge.  Or she has.”

“We knew that was a risk, given how long they held her.  Any idea what the sleeper’s objective is?”

“Unknown.  It planted a virus in the nav system, but the destination was an empty sector.”

“So we can’t bring Jenna in, and Avon and the others don’t dare reveal their location.  Should we send another ship to transport them?”

“It’s risky, too many variables,” Tarrant said.  “At this point none of us dare make a move.”

“Except possibly the sleeper, depending on what it wants and how it plans to get it.”

“And unless it didn’t have a backup plan when the virus failed, it’s unlikely to reveal itself until it’s too late for us to stop it.  Jenna is keeping them all together, but we don’t know if the sleeper has a time constraint.”

“So we’re all in a standoff,” Blake said.  “Until the Federation or a bounty hunter intervenes.  In which case the sleeper may plan to take advantage of the confusion.”

“Then I guess we’d better have a plan to do so ourselves,” Tarrant said, with a sigh.  ”One we can’t tell Jenna.”

Chapter Text

//Orbit established around Gauda Prime.  Navigation controls have been restored.//

“Any threatening ships?” Jenna asked.

//Negative.//

“Keep battle computers on alert.”

//Affirmative.//

“So what happens now?” Dr. Havidal asked.

“That’s the million-credit question,” Jenna replied.

“A million credits would be pocket change for most of the possibilities,” Carnell added.

“So what do we do now?” Dr. Havidal asked.

“Unless one of you is inclined to teleport down, we wait,” Jenna said.

“Wait for what?”

“With luck, we’ll know when it happens,” Jenna said.

“Aren’t psychostrategists supposed to know these things?”

“Psychostrategy requires profiling of all relevant actors,” Carnell said.  “We know very little about one crucial player, our sleeper agent.  Therefore, we wait for more information.”

“There’s one more thing we can do,” Jenna said, heading for the corridor, “contact me if anything changes.”

“Where are you going?”

“I’m afraid I can’t tell you,” Jenna said.

Dr. Havidal looked at Carnell as Jenna left.  “Does that count as atypical behavior?”

Carnell considered, tapping his chin with his right index finger.  “That remains to be seen.”

Chapter Text

“Status, Orac?”

//Both vessels are maintaining orbit after control has been released.//

“Any sign of hostiles?”

//Negative.//

“Keep watching.”

//Affirmative.//

Avon whirled with gun drawn at the sound of air being displaced by a teleport.  Soolin and Dayna had already done the same.

“Jenna?”

“Hello, everyone,” Jenna said, “I have teleport bracelets for you all.”

“Stay where you are,” Avon said.  “How did you locate us?”

//I set the teleport coordinates, of course.//

“Orac, you were told not to reveal our location until the sleeper agent had been identified.”

//That is correct.//

“Does that mean you have identified it?”

//Obviously.//

“So who is it?” Vila asked.

//Jenna Stannis has a chip implanted in her right frontal lobe.//

“And you brought her here?” Avon snarled.

//It is perfectly safe, Kerr Avon.  I have reprogrammed the chip.//

Avon lowered his gun.  “You do realize that she will probably reduce you to a pile of rubbish.”

//That would be unwise.  The party which implanted the chip may yet be able to restore its previous programming without my intervention.//

“We’d better get up there,” Dayna said.

“Yes,” Avon said, holstering his gun.  “Orac, inform Tarrant and open a cargo bay for his ship.  Bring us up.”

Chapter Text

Dr. Havidal was sitting on the flight deck couch.  Carnell was at the weapons console.  They looked toward the corridor as the others entered, guns drawn.

“Dr. Havidal, I presume?” Avon said.  “Please stay where you are.  Carnell, step away from the console and don’t do anything.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it, Avon.  I take it this means you have identified the sleeper agent?”

“And neutralized it.  That makes you the least trustworthy person in the room, psychostrategist.”

“Present company excepted,” Carnell said.

“Status, Zen?”

//Status is firm.  No threatening ships have been detected.//

“We’d better get out of here,” Soolin said.

“Where to?”

“Just away from any ship traffic for now,” Avon said.  “Orac, do either Dr. Havidal or Carnell have implants?”

//Negative.//

“Then I take it Jenna does,” Carnell said.

“Doctor, can you remove this chip from my brain?” Jenna said.

“With proper medical facilities, it shouldn’t be difficult.”

“Then come this way.”

Avon looked to Soolin.  “Go with them.”

Soolin raised an eyebrow.  “Understood.”

“I’ll need thirty minutes to prepare,” said Dr. Havidal.  “The procedure shouldn’t take more than forty with a monofilament scalpel.  The ship will need to be stationary during the procedure.”

“We’ll let you know when it’s safe to begin,” Avon said.  “Zen, give me a full detector readout at this station.”  He reviewed the data.  “Zen, flight time to grid reference 24-44-oblique-7 at standard by six?”

//Thirty-one-point-two minutes.//

“Do it.”

//Confirmed.//

“Orac, track all ships in the area.  Alert me immediately if anything is going to be within 500 spatials of that location.  And make sure that chip doesn’t cause any trouble before the doctor can remove it.”

//Acknowledged.  Not to mention obvious.//

“Thank you, Orac, obvious is the goal right now.  No surprises, please.”

Tarrant ran onto the flight deck.  “Status, Zen?”

//On course to grid reference 24-44-oblique-7, speed standard by six.//

“Good to see you in one piece, Tarrant,” Avon said.

“Good to see all of you,” Tarrant replied.  “Well, most of you.”

“A pleasure to meet you,” Carnell said.

“Since we seem to have some free time,” Dayna said, her gun and eyes having been leveled at Carnell the whole time, “perhaps you would like to explain to us why letting you live is a good idea?”

“Allow me to summarize the salient points,” Carnell said.  “Question 1:  why would I want to defect?  Answer:  the Federation’s embrace of Pylene-50 is a disturbing bellwether for the future of psychostrategy.  Question 2:  why would I want to join the resistance?  Answer:  I believe it has a reasonable chance of succeeding, with my help of course; it also has Orac, the greatest source of information in existence.  Question 3:  why should any of you believe that I’ve truly left the Federation?  Answer:  as I had already succeeded in capturing Ms. Stannis, curing Servalan, and resurrecting Liberator, I clearly had demonstrated great value.  Risking that success in order to add Orac and all of you to the pot would be a poor investment.  No offense to your considerable talents.”

“None taken,” Avon said.  “However, not being a psychostrategist myself, I might be inclined to doubt your alleged assessments of the costs and benefits of such an operation.”

“Psychostrategists take great pains to limit the number of actors involved.  We do not like to set our projects in motion unless we are certain of the results.  In spite of my considerable skills, I am well aware that adding all of you to the equation increases the degree of risk exponentially.”

“Which still doesn’t mean you haven’t judged the risks to be worth taking,” Dayna said.  “And if you do like to limit the number of actors involved, perhaps your stated aversion to Pylene-50 is not entirely true.  I’m sure there are still more than enough actors for your services to be of great value.”

“Maybe this whole sleeper-agent thing was just a ruse,” Vila said, “to divert suspicion away from you.”

Carnell smiled.  “I can tell it will be a great pleasure working with you all.”

//Information.//

“Go ahead, Zen,” Tarrant said.

//Liberator has arrived at the designated location.  Position can be maintained.//

“Orac, any sign of hostiles?”

//Negative.  No traffic in the area will pass within 700 spatials of this position, and no ships with sufficient firepower to pose a threat are capable of coming within firing range in less than 88 minutes.//

“Soolin, is the doctor ready to begin?”

“Yes, Avon, we’re all set.”

“Then you can get started.  Keep an eye on her.”

“Of course.”

“So, Carnell,” Tarrant said, “do you find the odds of success in completing the surgery to be a certainty?”

“Within a margin of error,” Carnell replied.  “From my knowledge of Dr. Havidal, I would rate the accuracy of her assessment of the time required to complete the operation a near certainty; she has undoubtedly allowed a buffer for unexpected delays.  And from my knowledge of Orac’s capabilities and personality, I am confident in his assessment of the tactical situation.  All of you have, for the limited time you’ve been on the ship, behaved as your profiles would suggest.”

“Well, we will be sure to take the value of your analysis into account,” Avon said.

Chapter Text

Soolin punched the intercom as the ship rocked once again.  “What’s going on up there?”

“Your guess is as good as ours,” Tarrant said.  “Zen says there’s nothing out there.”

“Well, tell Zen to hold the ship steady.  Dr. Havidal can’t stop now.  She’s kept the monofilament scalpel off between incisions, but if the ship rocks like that with it on, Jenna’s brain will be ripped to shreds.”

“Understood,” Avon said, “Orac, could the hostile ships be capable of teleporting into range and out again?”

//Impossible.  Even if such an enormous energy expenditure were feasible, the attackers would show up on detectors after teleporting.  All detectors show no hostiles.//

“Well, they show plasma bolts running when they’re practically on top of us,” Vila said.  “They’ve got to be coming from somewhere.”

“Could they be teleporting the plasma bolts themselves?” Dayna asked.

“Not possible.  If they could harness that kind of power so precisely they wouldn’t need plasma bolts.”

“An advanced detector shield?”

“At this range?  If Liberator had windows we could see them with our naked eyes.”

Carnell tapped the table.  “Does it?”

“What?”

“Does Liberator have windows?”  Carnell said.  “Some way for us to use direct visual observation, not filtered through the detectors?”

“Orac?  Could we get a direct visual feed?”

//Yes, but I am observing visual spectra.  There are no hostiles.//

“Humor us.”

//Very well.//  The vidscreen lit up.  //As you can see, there are no hostiles.//

“Except for those four,” Vila said.  “Plasma bolts running.”

“Zen, can you see the attackers now?”

//Negative.//

“Why can’t Zen see them?”

“It’s psychological.”

Avon turned to Carnell.  “What do you mean?”

“Sleight of hand.  Some sort of psychological trick.  They’ve convinced the computers that they aren’t there, so the computers aren’t seeing them.”

“So how do we un-trick them?” Vila asked.

Avon grabbed a laser probe and slid under the console.  “I tell them to focus on what isn’t there.  We can see them, I just have to convince Zen that there’s really something there.”

“What do we do in the mean time?” Vila asked.

“Manual targeting?”

“At that speed?  They may be going sub-light, but not sub enough.”

“Let me try,” Tarrant said.

“Are you telling me the FSA trains pilots to do manual targeting?”

“Not exactly.  But I did take an elective workshop on it.”

“What would be the purpose of such a workshop?”

“To demonstrate that it’s impossible.”

“Oh, well that’s all right then,” Vila said.

“Impossible in a practical sense,” Tarrant said.  “They’re small ships; hopefully they don’t have much in the way of defensive capability.  I just need four lucky shots on their weapons arrays.”

“Can you be lucky faster?” Vila said.  “Plasma bolts running.”

The ship rocked as Tarrant scored a hit on one of the attackers.  Vila smiled.  “Nice shot.”

“Now I just need three more before our force wall fails.”

Chapter Text

Avon punched the intercom.  “Soolin, tell Dr. Havidal we’ve got a steady ship.  For now.”

“She says she only needs eighteen more minutes.”

“Good.  Let us know when she’s done.”

“Aren’t we going to finish them off?” Vila asked.

“Not yet,” Tarrant said.  “Too much risk of rocking the boat.  If they’re smart, they’ll be gone in eighteen minutes.”

“They aren’t looking very smart,” Avon said.  “What are they doing?”

“Not sure.  Definitely positioning themselves for something.”

“Could they have other weapons?” Vila asked.

“Surely they would have used them by now if they did,” Avon asked.  “Orac, analysis of their current headings.”

//They are positioning themselves tetrahedrally around Liberator at a distance of eight spatials from the hull.//

“Are they planning to self-destruct, do as much damage to us as they can?”

//Negative.  Positions are at points of Liberator’s greatest structural integrity.//

“But do they know that?” Vila asked.

“They’re trying to tow us,” Tarrant said.  “They want the ship intact.”

//Graviton buildup along the hull indicates that Tarrant’s analysis is correct.  They are now moving in synchronized paths at speed standard by point two.//

“Will that rock the ship?”

//Negative.  Stresses are well below the threshold of Liberator’s artificial gravity and inertial dampers.//

“What if we attempt to break free?” Avon asked.

//That would result in significant sudden stresses faster than the ability of the dampers to compensate, equivalent to a plasma bolt impact every ten to twelve seconds.//

“So we go along with them for now.”

“For the next eighteen minutes.  They can’t drag us far by then.”

“Unless they have a larger invisible ship nearby.”

Tarrant considered.  “Will the adjustments you made enable Zen to detect it?”

“I’m not sure,” Avon said.  “The profile of a large vessel would be very different from these four.  We won’t know until we get within visual range.”

“I hate surprises,” Vila said.

“Speaking of surprises,” Dayna asked, “do we have any idea who they are?”

“The only information we have on the ships is visual,” Avon said.  “Plasma bolt technology is readily available, and their computer psychology trick is unheard of.”  He turned to Carnell.  “Isn’t that so, psychostrategist?”

“Yes,” Carnell replied, “and here I thought I was the leading expert in psychological profiling of computers.  I’m rather embarrassed not to have thought of it first.”

“They have the ability to tow ships using graviton buildup,” Tarrant said.  “The Federation never found a solution for the energy required to do so without destroying the target.  That kind of technology can’t be easy to come by.”

“Not necessarily,” Carnell said.  “They aren’t towing just any ship.  Liberator has a Herculanium hull, and they latched onto the areas of greatest structural strength.  At the speed they’re going, they don’t have to worry about damaging the target.”

“They must know that they couldn’t possibly hold us if we tried to break free,” Tarrant said.

“I can see three possibilities,” Carnell said.  “One, they are acting out of desperation, preferring the risk of being destroyed to the penalty for returning empty-handed.  Two, they realized that we stopped firing on them once their weapons arrays had been eliminated, and believe our energy reserves are depleted.  Third, and most likely, they are responsible for the chip implanted in Jenna’s brain, and have deduced from our behavior or from information from the implant that we are in the process of removing it and can’t risk precipitous moves.”

“Orac, is it possible that the implant is still conveying information to them?” Avon asked.

//Negative.  I have reprogrammed all functionality of the implant.//

“Does the implant contain its own power source?” Avon asked.

//Negative.  It relies on the brain’s electrochemical activity for power.//

“So it will stop functioning when it’s removed,” Dayna said.  “Will they be able to tell?”

//Insufficient information.//

“So in fourteen more minutes there’ll be a lot of surprises,” Vila said.

“And how many of them do we want to be around for?” Dayna asked.  “Now that the battle computers can see them we can finish them off easily.”

“Or outrun them,” Vila said.

“Then we won’t know who they were,” Tarrant said.

“I can live with that,” Vila said.  “Literally.”

“Not necessarily,” Avon said.  “We still don’t know if the adjustments I made to the detectors will work on a significantly different ship.”

“So you want to find out by having them take us to one?”

“Better now when we’re expecting it than at some time in the future.”

“I concur with Avon and Tarrant,” Carnell said.

“Who said you get a vote?” Vila said.  “You just can’t stand the idea of not knowing the answer.”

“My curiosity notwithstanding,” Carnell replied, “they were capable of infiltrating Servalan’s top echelon to the point that they were able to perform brain surgery on a captive who was essential to saving her life, without me or Dr. Havidal finding out.  That makes them a tremendous threat both to the Federation and to us.”

“He’s right,” Dayna said.  “We aren’t safe not knowing.  And Servalan, if she’s still alive, isn’t safe from us if we know how it was done.”

Chapter Text

“Avon, this is Soolin.  It’s done.  Jenna will be ready for duty in five minutes.”

“Good.  We can analyze the chip later.  Bring them to the flight deck when they’re ready.  I want everyone in one place.”

“I couldn’t agree more.”

“Orac, any change in the behavior of the hostiles?”

//Negative.//

“So now we wait,” Vila said.

“Not for long,” Dayna said.  “I’m guessing that is our destination.”

“Zen, can you analyze that structure?”

//It is a small stationary space platform with life support capabilities and heavy force field activity.  There is no sign of armament beyond the force fields.  Most of the structure is dedicated to power generation and storage, with a maximum capacity of three point four billion enerjons.//

“What is the reason for such an enormous power capacity?”

//Insufficient information.//

“That makes me very uncomfortable,” Tarrant said, “lack of weaponry notwithstanding.”

“Agreed.”

//Information.  Graviton buildup is dissipating.  Vessels are breaking formation and moving to neutral positions between three hundred thirty and three hundred seventy one spatials from Liberator.//

“Orac, analysis of their positions?”

//Positioning of hostiles is suboptimal for either attack or defense.  They appear to be simply replenishing their power banks and performing repairs.  At current rates their weapons array repairs will require four point seven standard days to complete.//

“Are their power reserves being restored from the platform?”

//Negative.//

Jenna, Havidal, and Soolin entered the flight deck.  “Good to have you back.”

“Good to be back,” Jenna said, “and to see all of you.”  She gave Tarrant a brief smile.

//Information.  Incoming communication from the space platform.//

Avon quickly scanned the other seven.  “Put it on the main vidscreen.”

The screen showed a woman, quite old if she was human, white haired, wearing a colorful blue and gold dress decorated with complex fractal patterns.

*Greetings, my friends.  My name is Derneas Bok, and I am honored to welcome you all.  I must apologize for the lengths we have gone to in order to bring you here.  In particular, I offer my sincere apologies to Jenna Stannis.  We were not aware that Carnell had already planned for your escape.  Our implant was intended to help you do so.  Due to the circumstances, we were unable to obtain your consent beforehand.*

Jenna gave no response.

*May I ask if Vila Restal is present?*

“What, me?”

*It is a pleasure to meet you.  We have been most impressed by your skills and intellect.*

“Clearly they don’t know everything after all,” Avon said quietly.

*As you are aware, your ship has been released, but I do hope you are willing to teleport to the platform so that we may speak in person.*

“Thank you for the invitation,” Avon said.  “Please allow us a moment to discuss it amongst ourselves.”

*Of course.  Communications out.*

Avon looked over the room.  “Well, we did want to know who they are.”

“And so far we know very little,” Tarrant said.

“I’m going,” Jenna said.  “They owe me.”

“I’m going with her,” Tarrant said.

“Not this time, Tarrant,” Avon said.  “I want one of our pilots to stay here.  I’ll go with her.  And Dayna and Vila.”

“Me?” Vila said

Avon smiled.  “You’re a celebrity.  Surely you want to meet your admirers.  It must be a rare occurrence.”

Chapter Text

Avon, Jenna, Dayna and Vila materialized on the platform.

“There doesn’t seem to be much here,” Jenna said.

“Something about this rings a bell,” Vila said.

“Does it look familiar?” Avon asked.

“No, never seen it before,” Vila said.  “Just a feeling.”

“Forgive me for keeping you,” said a young man, dressed in typical civilian clothes.  “My name is Tome, Arlas Tome.  If you’ll allow me just a moment, I will take you to the Bok.”

He put on a pair of sunglasses and looked them over carefully, then began taking notes.

“What’s he doing?” Dayna whispered to Avon.

“No doubt taking notes on whatever those glasses show him.”

“With what?  He isn’t holding a tablet or stylus.”

“Oh, my apologies,” said Tome, still writing.  “An invention of mine.  I call it the Mime Glove.  I just move my hands as if I were holding an object, and the desired result occurs, without the object ever being present.”

“So your notes are recorded without the intermediary device ever existing,” Avon said.

“That’s right.”

“So you could mime, for example, firing a gun,” Jenna said, more a statement than a question.

“Yes, if necessary.”  He took off his sunglasses.

“You were on Asphodel, weren’t you?” Jenna said.

Tome looked taken aback.  “Yes, I was.  I’m surprised you remember.”

“I don’t.”

He held his empty hand to his ear.  “They’re ready to come across.”

A doorway appeared at the edge of the platform.

“A door into empty space?” Avon said.

“It doesn’t look like empty space.”

Vila snapped his fingers.  “That’s it!  Kezarn.  It’s a travel terminus.  Instant transport to another terminal, possibly thousands of light-years away.”

“That is correct,” Tome said, “would you join me?”

They looked at each other and followed him.

Chapter Text

“Welcome to Kennabor,” Tome announced.

The air was fresh and invigorating, the sunlight warm and pleasant.  Vegetation was lush.

Vila took a deep breath.  “Vita particles!  Atmosphere’s full of them, isn’t it?”

“Very well observed,” Tome replied.  “You are correct.  A few days here does wonders for relieving stress, reducing inflammation, purging buildup of toxins.”

“The architecture is rather eclectic,” Avon noted.  “Some ancient, some modern, some Terran, some alien.”

“The scholars here come from a variety of different places,” Tome replied, “and often have preferences for some unusual time periods.  Particularly the historians.”

“And what is the Bok’s preference?”

“Late medieval period Terran Gothic.  Right this way.”

The structure was massive and well-maintained, carefully designed to appear authentic, but Avon noticed the stained-glass windows which appeared to provide natural lighting were equipped with tiny photocells to increase the lighting as necessary.  The walls were lined with ancient paper books, but Jenna could feel the magnetic tingle caused by banks of electronics hidden behind them.

“Welcome, my friends,” said the Bok.  “I am so glad you agreed to come.”

“Wouldn’t have missed it for the world,” Jenna said.

The Bok lowered her gaze.  “Again, I can only apologize.  Had we known there was already an escape plan in place for you, we would never have violated you that way.”

Jenna waited until Tome had left and the door solidly closed before replying.  “Was he the one who did it?”

“Neurosurgery isn’t one of Tome’s talents, but he did arrange for our surgeon to have uninterrupted access for the procedure.”

“Dr. Havidal?”

“No, she wasn’t one of ours.  Tome was the only one on-site for extended periods.  Our worst and best pupil.”

“Worst and best?” Avon asked.

“Let me see how I can explain,” said the Bok.  “The experts here are quite unique.  They each combine, not only an extraordinary depth of knowledge in their individual field, but a rare special ability which complements that knowledge.  For example, my specialty is chemistry, but I also possess rare abilities to identify materials without special equipment.  I can distinguish over 17,000 different compounds by scent alone, and can determine the ratio of ingredients in an alloy by touch.”

“And I gather you all pool your individual talents to find solutions?”

“That is correct.  Consider the technology we used to hide our ships from your detectors, which I know you found most interesting.  I would have attempted to do so by applying a coating to the surface of the vessels which would cause your detectors to misinterpret the readings.  Professor Arivvor, a physicist, proposed a method of diverting electromagnetic and gravitational fields so as to make the ships appear to have no impact on them.  It was Professor Enneas, a specialist in psionics, who came up with the ingenious idea of extrapolating from her own telepathic abilities, with which she can cause humans to fail to recognize something in plain sight, and apply the same techniques to computers.”

“And Tome, your worst and best pupil?”

“Worst is perhaps an exaggeration.  A middling student.  He doesn’t possess any of the unusual talents which allow us to make such extreme strides in our fields.  He is extremely intelligent and industrious, but that only took him so far.  His grades were passable, but not exemplary.  However, he is a remarkable generalist and has a talent for tinkering.  His sunglasses, for instance, enable him to see things which are hidden.  If they were hidden by chemical means, I would detect them easily; if they were hidden by field distortion, Professor Arivvor would be aware of them; if psionically, Professor Enneas would see through them.  Tome has none of these natural advantages, but building purely on his basic understanding of all of these fields, developed a device which can thwart all three of these methods and dozens of others.”

“A degree of versatility essential for infiltrating an enemy organization,” Jenna said.

“Precisely.”

“This has all been very informative in explaining how you have accomplished what we’ve observed,” Avon said, “but not why.  You have clearly been very successful in keeping yourselves hidden and isolated from galactic affairs.  It seems to me that spying on Servalan and revealing yourselves to us represents a change in your activities.  Why?”

“Ah,” said the Bok, “you are quite right.  Consider this thought experiment:  imagine you are part of a non-spacefaring race, confined to a single planet.  You are part of an isolationist group of scholars, hidden away from the outside world.  But you become aware of a growing problem, one you don’t understand, but which may threaten the survival of your entire species.  You would have little choice but to introduce your agents into the outside world, in order to find out what is happening and why, and to find a solution.  Or at least a means of escape.”

“And you have encountered a parallel cataclysm in the making, one which is not confined to a single planet?”

“Possibly.  As I have explained, our scholars have unusual abilities to sense various aspects of the universe around them.  A number of us have become aware of unprecedented changes.  We don’t have a clear understanding of what is happening or why, but it is widespread enough to cause concern.  The rebuilt and rapidly-expanding Federation seemed a likely candidate for investigation, but so far we haven’t made much progress.  Our conclusion is that a better approach would be to work with people like you.  You have been involved in outside affairs, but are not wedded to the existing power structure.  You possess a collection of unusual and useful talents, as well as the most powerful computer and spaceship known.  We can provide you with a great deal of information, as well as the technologies which you have observed in action.”

“And what do you want from us in return?” Dayna asked.

“While I have no doubt that you and your colleagues would make fine additions to our faculty, what we need is an understanding of, and solution to, whatever is threatening the galaxy.  Anything you can do to that end would be of tremendous value to, well, everyone.”

“We would like a few hours to discuss this among ourselves before we return to our ship to consult with the others.”

“Of course.  You are welcome to explore the city as you like and speak to anyone.  As you can imagine, given how difficult it is for anyone to come here uninvited, you’ll find we are all quite open to talking to anyone who has been invited.”

Chapter Text

“Well, there’s no doubt that their dealings with us don’t seem to be up to their usual standards,” Jenna said.  “For people who successfully infiltrated Servalan’s inner circle and put a chip in my brain, their computer virus and their attack on us have been rather less than competent.”

“What do you think of their claim that the implant was supposed to help you escape?” Avon asked.

“It seems dubious.  Carnell is good, no doubt about that, but if he’s telling the truth—“

“Always a risky assumption,” Vila said.

“Yes,” Jenna said, “but if he truly had no notion of what they were doing, even doing surgery on me, it seems odd that they wouldn’t have a better plan than that.  From the way they talk about it, doing that to me was a pretty fundamental violation of their principles.  Either they aren’t as ethical as they claim, or they’re a lot more panicked than they let on.”

“Lovely,” Vila said, “so the galaxy-wide extinction of humanity isn’t enough to be panicked about.”

“Panic does seem consistent with the rapid decline of their competence,” Dayna said.  “From being perfectly hidden and infiltrating Servalan’s inner circle, to a botched sleeper agent and a failed attack on Liberator.”

“Could the implant have been a decoy?” Jenna asked.  “Something we were bound to discover and neutralize?”

“Vila?”  They all turned to the newcomer, who rushed forward and threw her arms around his neck.

“Kerril?”

“I told them what you’d done on Kezarn, but I had no idea you were coming here.  How are you?”

“None the worse for wear.  Actually, make that a lot worse.”  He lowered his voice.  “You’re not still angry at me, are you?”

Kerril laughed, a bit bashfully.  “Sorry about that.  After I’d thought about it for a while, I realized you were right.  I probably would have been the same sooner or later, if I hadn’t discovered I was good at other things besides shooting people.”

“Oh, these are my friends, Dayna, Avon, Jenna.”

“Pleased to meet you all,” Kerril said.  “I, um, well, I did meet someone.  A poet, if you can believe it.”

“That’s wonderful,” Vila said.  “I’m happy for you.”

“Excuse me, Kerril,” Jenna said, “can I borrow Vila for a moment?”

“Oh, yes, of course.”  She watched the two of them walk a short distance away.  “Dayna, can I talk to you for a minute?”

Dayna looked puzzled.  “Um, sure.”

“Forgive me if I’m being rude,” Kerril whispered, “but I couldn’t help noticing … are you and Vila …?“

Dayna was about to object, glanced at the others, then whispered back, “well, yes.  How did you know?”

“I saw how you looked at us,” Kerril said, “and how he looked at you when he introduced you all.  And he does have a thing for a good pair of legs.”

Dayna stifled a laugh.  “Actually, my legs were in pretty bad shape at the time.  He took good care of me.”

“Well, if you don’t mind my saying, you’re a lucky woman.  I recall him being, well, inexhaustible.”

Dayna grinned.  “I know what you mean.”  She glanced at the others.  “Looks like Jenna’s done with him.  I’ll give you two some privacy.”

“Thanks.”  Kerril paused, then whispered, “ask him about the necklace trick.”

“Did you two have a good talk?” Jenna asked.

“Actually, yes,” Dayna said.  “What were you talking to Vila about?”

“Nothing important.”

Chapter Text

Tome and his four guests returned to the space platform.  “Thank you for coming.  Please take all the time you need to discuss this with the rest of your crew.”

“It has been most enlightening,” Avon said.

“And thank you for your hospitality,” Dayna added.

Avon spoke into his teleport bracelet.  “Orac, prepare for teleport using previous protocol.”

//Confirmed.//

“If I may impose on you once more,” Avon said, “the Bok explained to us about your sunglass invention.  Would you mind if I gave them a try?”

Tome did not hesitate and handed them over.  “Please, be my guest.”

Avon put them on and looked over his three companions.  Dayna, of course, won the prize for most hidden weapons; the sunglasses highlighted all of them.  “Fascinating.  Jenna, come look at this.”

He handed her the glasses.  She looked over Avon and Tome before handing them back to their owner.  “An amazing invention.  Thank you.”

“It’s my pleasure.  We look forward to your reply.”

“Orac, bring us up.”

Once in the teleport bay, Avon said, “Orac, analysis of teleport record.”

//No additional people or devices were teleported.//

“Good.  His sunglasses didn’t show me anything, although he may have anticipated that we might ask to use them.”

“I saw a device in Tome’s right nostril,” Jenna said, “but nothing on you.”

“Perhaps something he developed to replicate the Bok’s inherent ability to identify compounds by scent.”

Just as they reached the flight deck, Zen spoke.

//Information.//

“What is it, Zen?”

//Force field energy levels on space platform have increased tenfold.//

“Part of their recharge cycle?”

//Negative.  Power banks on platform are discharging rapidly.  Force field energy levels are now eighty-seven times their steady-state levels.//

“Tarrant, get us out of here, standard by eight!”

The jolt of acceleration was soon compounded by a massive shock wave.

“Status, Zen.”

//Shock wave displaced Liberator by 1680 spatials.  Auto-repair is attending to hull damage.  All major systems remain online.//

“What about the platform and ships?”

//Platform and ships are no longer being detected.//

“Invisible?  Moved?  Destroyed?”

//Insufficient information.//

“Tarrant, bring us back to the platform’s position.  Carefully.”

There was silence as they moved closer to the epicenter of the shock wave.  Nothing appeared on the visual display.

“Vila?”

“No sign of the platform or the ships.  No debris, either.”

“What’s one more mystery,” Dayna said.

“Orac, can you communicate with them?”

//No communication is possible.//

“Don’t call us, we’ll call you,” Jenna said.

“Perhaps,” Avon replied.  “We’ll fill you all in on what we’ve learned.  Unless anyone objects, I’d like Carnell and Havidal to hear it as well.”

After a lengthy debriefing and question period, everyone was thoroughly exhausted.  “I think we can all use a break now.  I want someone on the flight deck at all times.  Jenna, Tarrant, I want one of you on call at all times.  Carnell, Havidal, you’re welcome to use the quarters Jenna assigned you.  As I’m sure you’re aware, you will be monitored.”

Chapter Text

The door chimed.  “Jenna, it’s Del.”

Jenna raised her head to look at the door.  “Come in.”

She watched him walk in, almost tentatively, that cloak of confidence he normally wore not quite intact.  The door closed behind him.

“I … wasn’t sure if I should come to you, or wait for you to come to me,” he said.

“Neither was I,” she answered.

“So it’s a good thing one of us did,” he said, flashing a smile.

“Probably.”  She paused.  “I’m sorry for some of the things I said to you.”

“That doesn’t matter.”

“It does matter, Del.  I said I was sorry.  I didn’t say they weren’t true.”

He finally took a seat.  “Okay, I’m younger than you are.  That still doesn’t mean I haven’t had more than enough trauma in my life.  I’m not a rosy-faced innocent.”

She did smile at that.

“And yes, even so, I tend to be an optimist.  It’s just how I am.  Do you think it’s because I’m a narcissist who thinks he can do anything?  Or just too stupid to see what’s going on?”

She didn’t answer.

“And as for the third thing—“

She raised a hand, as if to stop him from saying it, then lowered it, and said it herself.  “Zen is back.”

“Yes, and I know that changes things.”

“Do you know?” Jenna asked.  “Does it change things?  What if it was never what we thought it was?  At first, I thought it was just because we both had been touched by Zen, more than the others.  We both felt his loss in our bones.  And then, when we felt that part of him still inside us being part of it, I was fine with that.  I was happy that he could share in it in some way, even if we didn’t understand how.  But then Carnell explained what was really going on.”

“And what was going on?” Tarrant asked.

“Three pieces of Zen’s subconscious.  One in me, one in you.  And one in Servalan.”

“Servalan?”

“The only option when Zen was dying.  Servalan or a mutoid.”

“And she was marginally more human.”

“Yes,” Jenna said.  “And then there was Virn.”

“Virn?”

“It wanted to breed food stock from you and Servalan.  It ended up breeding something else.”

“You don’t mean …”

“Yes.  It started growing a new Liberator inside Servalan.  But there wasn’t enough of Zen inside her, so it tried to reach out for another piece.”

“Which is why she needed you,” Tarrant said.

“Yes, but only after the piece inside of me started growing as well.  And I wasn’t on Virn.”

“But I was.”

“Yes.  A human fetus is like a parasite, a vampire.  It needs to feed off its mother without killing her.  It isn’t being malicious; it isn’t even capable of thought.  It’s just trying to survive.”

“And Zen’s subconscious was doing the same thing,” Tarrant said.

“Just like on Virn.  We thought we were sharing our grief.  We thought maybe Zen was encouraging it because he cared about us.  Because he loved us.  But Zen was gone.  It was just a drive to survive, using what it acquired on Virn to bring us together, to set its growth in motion.  A parasite, which would have killed me and Servalan if Carnell hadn’t figured out how to transfer it to the environment it needed.”

Tarrant was silent, not looking at her directly.  “So you think none of it was real?”

“Was what you felt for Servalan on Virn real?”

He looked at her.  “That wasn’t the same.”

“Are you sure?”

Tarrant took a deep breath.  “Maybe what brought us together wasn’t what we thought it was.  Maybe what we felt of Zen wasn’t sentient, was just a subconscious instinct.  But WE were.  Sentient beings with thoughts and emotions, with a need to grieve for a lost friend.  How do any two people come together?  It’s always chance.  It was chance that resulted in Blake rescuing me instead of one of the others on Gauda Prime.  Two people might choose to have sex because they find each other attractive.  If afterwards they talk, fall in love, is that invalid because they didn’t know it at the start?”

“I don’t know.”

Tarrant stood and began to pace.  After a while he said, “Tell me about Zen firing the neutron blasters.”

“What do you mean?”

“You told us Carnell got Zen’s subconscious to fire the neutron blasters before Zen’s consciousness had regenerated.”

“Yes, that’s right.”

“How?”

“He gave Zen the idea that we were in danger.”

“That’s not what you said before.”

Jenna lowered her eyes.  “That I was in danger.”

“Even though Zen wasn’t capable of conscious thought, Carnell decided that self-preservation wasn’t as strong a trigger as love.  Even without being sentient, Zen loved you.  And love was more important than self-preservation.”

Jenna thought for a moment, then looked up at him.  “Okay, you’re not stupid.”

“So you concede the possibility that what we feel for each other could be real?”

“Maybe so.”

“And if what we feel for Zen, and what he feels for us, might also be real, well, we have to figure out what that means for the three of us.  Love triangles don’t always end in tragedy.”

“Optimist.”

Chapter Text

“Well, it’s good to be back,” Dayna said.  Her cabin on Liberator looked exactly like it had before.

“I don’t think I ever got a good look at your cabin before,” Vila said.

She threw her arms around his neck and kissed him.  “I bet you did.”

“I protest!”  He shrugged.  “Well, I do have a knack for remembering details.  But I never came in uninvited.”

“Vila, I know very well you can’t resist sneaking into any room you aren’t invited into.”

He snickered.

“I said ‘room’, Vila.  Besides, you were invited.”

He kissed her.  “Luckiest day of my life.  Bet that’s something rarely said on Gauda Prime.”

“So, Kerril seemed nice.”

“Yes, she was on Kezarn.  That’s probably where the Kennabori got their transit terminal technology.  She probably told them I was the one who figured it out.”

“She wasn’t a native, though, was she?”

“No, she was one of Bayban’s men.  Well, gunmen.  You know what I mean.”

“One of the sexiest gunmen ever to point one at you, I bet.”

“I’m not touching that with a ten-foot pole,” Vila said, “which you’ve probably got one of in here somewhere.”

“You’re getting smarter by the day, Vila.”

“Those whatsits you caught on Gauda Prime must be brain food.”

“Something you’ve been eating must be.”

“Maybe I need another lesson.”

“You may be right.”  She sat on the bed.  “It was interesting talking with Kerril.  She found you quite impressive.”

“Like I said, I figured out the transit terminal.”  He caught a look at Dayna’s smirk.  “Oh, you mean …”

“Apparently I’m not the only one who was impressed with your stamina.”

“We thought we were going to die!” Vila said.  “And it was her idea.”

“Like it was mine?” Dayna said.

“You don’t think I go around tricking women into thinking it’s their idea!”

“No, I don’t, Vila.  Though I wouldn’t put it past you if you thought it would work.”

“That is a vile calumny.”

“So, how many times was it her idea?”

“Dayna!”

“I’m curious!  And she didn’t seem shy about it.”

“What did she tell you?”

“She said you were inexhaustible.”

“Well, we thought we were going to die when the air ran out.  So she figured we might as well make use of the air while we had it.  And afterwards, when I recovered, I realized the air hadn’t run out yet.  So I suggested we do it again.”

“Is that when you showed her the necklace trick?”

“She didn’t tell you about that!”

“Not in detail, no.  But she seemed certain you would remember.”

“Well, of course I remember …” Vila stammered.  He looked at his feet.  “And anyway, that was the fourth time.”

“You rascal.”

“Well I didn’t want her to get bored!  And she, well, she wasn’t ready for another, you know, the usual.”

“You know you have to tell me.”

“But Dayna, it’s just a stupid trick.  You’ll think I just do it for my own pleasure.”

“From the sound of it, you were the one ready for more.”

“Well, yeah.  Actually, it did work pretty well for getting her, uh, interested again.”

“Then you definitely have to show me.”

Chapter Text

“Del, it’s Jenna.”

“Come on in.”

She seemed less grave this time, more like how she’d been when they were first getting to know each other.  Her posture was relaxed, her crossed arms the only sign of defensiveness.  Her face seemed softer and brighter, about to break into a smirk and an acerbic quip.

“Well, pretty boy, it seems like you CAN give me a run for my money.”

He flashed her a smile.  “Is that an observation, or are you giving me permission?”

She returned the smile, not looking away, her eyes fixed on his as she walked closer.  “Maybe a little of both.”

“Ah, that sounds promising.”

“No promises,” she said, reaching up to touch his cheek, “but I’m willing to try optimism for a while.”

He leaned in closer.  “Good to hear.  I’ll try to make it worth your while.”

Her smile brightened.  “I’m sure you will.”  She pulled him in for a kiss.

Chapter Text

Carnell had the game room all to himself when Dr. Havidal entered.  He appeared to have dozens of games set up and was making moves at rapid-fire pace, seemingly not needing time to think between moves.  She wasn’t even sure if there were computer opponents or if he was playing against himself.

“Good afternoon, Doctor,” he said, not pausing in his game playing.

“I hope I’m not interrupting.”

“Oh, not at all,” he said, barely looking at the boards as he made his moves.  “Just a little relaxation exercise while I think about other things.”

“What things might those be?”

“What’s going on with the Kennabori, and what this galactic cataclysm they’re so worried about might be.  Orac is investigating, but to my knowledge hasn’t found anything significant.  At least not that they’ve chosen to share with me.”

“They do keep their cards close to the chest,” she said.  “Not unexpected, given everything they’ve been through.”

“Quite true, and having a psychostrategist around complicates the matter.  Avon in particular is constantly balancing the insights I might provide against the risks of giving me information.  A common occupational hazard.”

“I can imagine.  I’ve been somewhat surprised that most of them have been willing to share their medical records with me – a few have even allowed me to examine them.  I suppose after I’d given them a few helpful recommendations, they were more open to it.  Frankly, I’m rather glad at having an opportunity to do something useful.”

“And how would you rate their health, Doctor?”

“They haven’t always had access to medical equipment, but it seems they’ve been fairly diligent about making use of it when it was available.  They’re in remarkably good shape, given what they’ve been through.”  She paused.  “At least physically.  Mentally, they’re all suffering from varying degrees of PTSD, at the very least.”

“They’re all mad as hatters,” Carnell said.

“I’m sorry?”

“An old colloquial phrase.  Some people thought it was because hat-making at the time used mercury, and many hatters developed mercury poisoning.  In one town they called it ‘the Danbury shakes.’  It’s probably older than that, however.  Mad used to mean venomous, and hatter may have originally been adder.  So the older meaning may have been ‘venomous as a poisonous snake.’  Which I suppose is also applicable in this case.”

“Also quite understandable, under the circumstances.  I do worry about Avon in particular.  He hasn’t allowed me to see his medical details, but he is clearly suffering from a psychotic break he hasn’t even shared with his friends.”

“Wait until you meet Blake.”

Chapter Text

Tarrant’s scout ship was a two-man vessel, but he managed to squeeze in with Avon and Jenna and seal the hatch so they could ensure a private connection with Blake.

“You two have filled him in on everything that’s happened?” Avon asked.

“Yes, but he wants your assessment,” Jenna said.

*Exactly,* Blake said.

“Well, we have three rather significant unknowns,” Avon said, “possibly four.  The first is the Kennabori, with significant technologies, capable of remaining hidden from everyone and of infiltrating, presumably, any organization.  They chose to reveal themselves to us, and currently we have no way of contacting them.  Some of their operations seemed flawless, others curiously lacking in competence, suggesting some internal difficulties of their own – panic, perhaps, or power struggles within their ranks.  Second, the galactic disaster they claim to be so concerned about.  We still have no idea what it might be, or how they believe we can be of help.  Third, the disappearance of their space platform.  They may have done it themselves, or it could be related to the alleged galactic menace, or it could be yet another unknown party.  And fourth, we have Carnell.  His explanations for wanting to defect appear to hold together, but I wouldn’t expect anything less from a psychostrategist.”

*How do you think we should proceed?*

“Orac is investigating on all fronts, but we have nothing substantive so far.  We may have no choice but to wait for the Kennabori to make contact again.  As for Carnell, keeping him contained to Liberator seems to me to be the safest way to make use of his talents while minimizing the risks.  I think it would be best not to reveal your location or assets yet.  Keep all our communications limited to the four of us.”

*What if I need a top pilot?*

Avon considered.  “Perhaps we can take a page from the Kennabori playbook.  This scout is similar in size to the Kennabori assault ships.  I can try to replicate their invisibility trick.  Not foolproof, especially if the Kennabori themselves want to know where you are, but it should at least keep everyone else in the dark.  In the meantime, we’ll continue to try to figure out what happened to their space platform.”

After a pause, Blake replied, *makes sense.*

“Anything else I can help you with?”

*I’m glad you and your crew are still alive.*

“Likewise.  Although the failure of your plan must have been … embarrassing.”

Chapter Text

“Next frame, Zen,” Avon said.

//Confirmed.//

“Force field energy levels continue increasing,” Jenna said, eyes locked on her console.

“Anyone else?” Avon asked.

None of the others saw anything notable on their readouts.

“Next frame.”

//Confirmed.//

The image of the space platform on the vidscreen became noticeably distorted.

“Massive gravimetric disruption,” Dayna said.

“How massive?” Avon asked.

“Black hole massive.”

“Zen, play the frames from this point forward until the platform disappeared, 1/100^th speed.”

//Confirmed.//

“I’m not seeing any signs of structural damage,” Vila said.  “It’s just there and then gone.”

“The force fields could have been protecting it until they failed,” Tarrant said, “then the whole structure was gone in an instant.”

“Possibly,” Avon said, “but black holes are not in the habit of turning themselves on and off.”

“Their force field strength was increasing rapidly before we could detect anything else,” Carnell said.  “I can think of three explanations:  one, they had detected something our systems could not; two, the gravimetric disruption was a result of whatever caused a power cascade on their force field generators; or three, both events were their deliberate doing, the force field increase being preparatory for the gravimetric pulse.”

“Orac?”

//Insufficient information to confirm or disprove any of these theories.  I will continue to investigate.//

“One step forward, two steps back,” Avon said.  “Any progress on your list, Carnell?”

‘Too much progress on assembling it, not enough on pruning it.  The Thaarn was known to be able to control gravity, and appears to have escaped the destruction of Crandor.  However, there are a disturbingly large number of known technologically-advanced civilizations and entities which have in the past made various attempts to wipe out humanity and which still exist:  Andromeda, 61-Cygni, Epinal, and the Darkness, for example.  Whatever disturbance the Kennabori have detected, I can find no suggestion of this from conventional sources, but given their unusual capabilities that may be meaningless.”

“So we still don’t know anything,” Vila said.

“Or we know too much, but not enough to distill the information into something actionable,” Avon said.

Carnell tapped the side of his nose.  “Two points to the man in black.”

Chapter Text

Tarrant rushed onto the flight deck; most of the others were already there.  “You’ve found something?”

“Possibly,” Avon replied.  “Orac?”

//There is a pinhole in the fabric of space-time at the location formerly occupied by the space platform.//

“What does that mean?” Vila asked.

//It suggests the possibility of a wormhole or pocket universe connected with the gravimetric disturbance.//

“Is that the sort of thing the Kennabori may have been sensing?”

“We have no way of knowing,” Avon said, “but it’s possible they may have detected other such pinholes.”

“Have we found any others?” Tarrant asked.

“Orac is investigating,” Avon said.  “So far he has found one other such pinhole, in the location formerly designated Cygnus-XL.”

“The black hole?” Carnell said.

“Former black hole,” Avon said.

Carnell inclined his head.  “Interesting.  So another massive gravimetric disturbance associated with a pinhole.”

“Correct,” Avon said.  “Orac is reviewing other gravimetric incidents for other possible pinholes.”

“And what can we do about these pinholes?” Tarrant asked.

“Orac’s carrier wave is multi-dimensional.  He is attempting to map out the ‘other side’ and determine if there is a connection or common cause.”

“So then what do we do?” Vila asked.

“That is a very large question.  We don’t know if there is something malicious or dangerous involved.  It may be something the Kennabori are causing, deliberately or accidentally.  There are, quite literally, a universe of possibilities.”

Chapter Text

Jenna rolled onto her back and let out a deep breath.

“No complaints, then?” Tarrant asked with a smile.

“Absolutely none.  As I’m sure you’re well aware.”

“Do you think Zen was … listening in?”

She grinned.  “If he was, he got a world-class performance.”

*Blake!*

They both looked up, then back at each other.

“You heard it too?”

“Yes.  It sounded like Cally.”

Jenna tapped the intercom.  “Avon, this is Jenna.”

“I heard it, too.  Meet me at Tarrant’s ship.”

*Yes, I heard her, too,* Blake said.  *I haven’t talked to the rest of my people, but none of them contacted me right away.  They never met her, however.*

“Telepathy is known to be multi-dimensional,” Avon said.  “It could have been an echo, bouncing around in a pocket dimension, until Orac’s carrier wave allowed it back into our universe.”

“Could it have allowed something else in?” Tarrant asked.

“No, the Darkness tried to do that,” Avon said.  “I installed a disruption bomb in case something attempted to push that much power through.”

“Could it really be Cally?” Jenna said.

“It seems unlikely,” Avon said.  “We know she died.”

“So did Zen.”

Chapter Text

//This particular pocket universe is roughly spherical in shape with a radius of one point two seven million spatials.  The size and shape, however, may be illusory.  It appears to connect with a number of different pinholes into other dimensions, but it is unclear whether any of the others connect to our universe.  The only structure I have identified with a density greater than point zero zero seven units matches the size and density of the space platform, and is likewise surrounded with force fields.//

“It’s still functioning?”

//To the degree I can determine, it is intact and functional.//

/“And the … telepathic echo?”

//It appears to originate within the structure, but that may also be illusory.//

“How would we go about refining your analysis?”

//That is not possible from a single vantage point.  It would be necessary to analyze the pocket universe from a different pinhole, assuming the second pinhole connected to the same pocket universe.//

“Zen, set a course for Cygnus-XL, standard by six.”

//Confirmed.  Flight time twenty-two point one six five days.//

//Analysis is complete.  This appears to be the same pocket universe as the one associated with the other pinhole, as it contains the Kennabori space platform, although the size of the universe and the position of the platform are different from this vantage point.  There are several other objects detectable from this pinhole; they appear to be small spacecraft, but detailed analysis is not possible.//

“Could they be the four ships which brought us to the platform?”

//I would not have said detailed analysis was impossible if that were not the case.//

“Are you certain it’s the same space platform?”

//All readings are identical to those taken before the platform disappeared.  However, as we have no other such platforms for comparison, and do not know how the platform was constructed, certainty is not possible.//

“Are you able to detect a telepathic echo?”

//That is not something my carrier wave is capable of isolating.  Given the different observations from the two different pinholes, I cannot evaluate whether a similar telepathic echo, if it exists, will enter our universe, or how much time would pass before it manifests.//

“Is there any sign of life on the platform?”

//There appears to be a faint life sign, but it may be an echo as well.  I am attempting further analysis.//

Chapter Text

Avon was fiddling with a small motorized vehicle using a laser probe as they waited for Orac’s report.

//Analysis is complete.  Life form is humanoid but not Terran.  There is a 64% probability that it is Auronar.  Brain activity is minimal, suggesting that the subject is comatose.//

“Is it Cally?” Vila asked.

//Please do not waste my time with pointless questions.  If the life form were identifiable as Cally, then I would have reported that it was Auronar.//

“So how do we find out?” Vila asked.  “And what do we do about it?”

“That’s what this is for,” Avon said, placing the vehicle on the table.  “This device contains all the usual detectors to determine if a planet has a habitable environment.  It also includes a number of dummy circuits tied to each measurement.  If the conditions fluctuate too quickly for the detectors to record them, the dummy circuits will fail.”

“Better them than us,” Dayna said.

“Precisely.  Orac is attempting to use the pinhole as a lens to teleport an object onto the space platform and retrieve it.  If that proves successful, we will teleport this device.  In addition to testing whether the operation is likely to be fatal, it will attempt to locate the life form and gather data on it.”

“So we can rescue her.”

“If it turns out to be possible.  We don’t even know if Orac can do it yet.”

Chapter Text

“The good news is that it may be possible to teleport a person in and out of the pocket dimension,” Avon said.  “The bad news is that we may be quite constrained.  The platform is sizable, but physical locations don’t map easily across the pinhole.  If the subject strays too far from the arrival point or remains in the pocket dimension too long, the teleport lock is lost, and Orac has been unsuccessful in re-establishing contact.”

“How far and how long are we talking about?” Tarrant asked.

“Depending on how the spatial coordinates align with the pinhole, it can be as little as five feet, and the subject will have no way of knowing which directions are safe.  The time limit ranges from thirty-three to forty-five seconds.  There may be a period of disorientation upon arrival – we have no way of knowing how long that might last.”

“How close can we teleport to her?”

“We can’t.  The platform is large enough that we can reliably arrive inside it, but narrowing it down further is impossible.  It was purely chance that in one of our experiments, the vehicle arrived close enough to her that we could determine that it WAS Cally.”

“How do we get her out?”

“Attempting to lock onto a second bracelet doesn’t seem to be feasible.  I’ve assembled a double bracelet with a twenty-centimeter aquitar tether, so that both bracelets form a single teleport matrix.”

“So we would need to happen to arrive close to her, hopefully within five feet, and put the bracelet on her within thirty seconds,” Jenna said, “after recovering from any initial disorientation.”

“In a nutshell, yes.”

“I should go,” Tarrant said.  “I trained for unusual changes in flight conditions, so I would recover from any disorientation quickly.”

“I’ve done it real-time, not in a simulator,” Jenna said.

“She might need medical help,” Dr. Havidal said.  “I’ll go.”

“Next you’ll be suggesting that Vila do it,” Dayna said.  “He’s spent more time disoriented than all of us combined.”

“No,” Avon said, “I’m going.”

“You don’t have to be … whatever you’re being,” Tarrant said.  “We’ll draw straws.”

“No.  I’m the one who got her killed.  I’m going.”

“If something happens, you need to be here to figure it out.”

“If something happens, there’s nothing we can do about it.  The discussion is over.”

Chapter Text

They watched the timer tick.  28 … 29 … 30.  Orac activated the teleport.

Avon fell to his knees when he materialized.  Dr. Havidal handed him a glass.

“What’s this?”

“Healthier than adrenaline and soma.”

Avon drank it.

“What did you find?” Tarrant asked.

“The limits of the human digestive system,” Avon replied.  “But there was nothing close by.  Orac, how long until the next window?”

//Seventeen point four five hours.  While I recalculate the teleport coordinates, Liberator will need to recharge its energy banks.  Teleporting back from the pocket universe requires three magnitudes more power than teleporting in.//

“Let me examine you,” Dr. Havidal said.

“No thank you, Doctor.  I just need to rest.”

“I’ll help you to your quarters,” Dayna said, helping him to his feet.

Chapter Text

After eight days and four more trips, two people materialized in the teleport bay.

“You found her!” Vila said, handing Avon a glass.

“For once, Vila, your grasp of the obvious is most welcome.”

“She’s alive,” Havidal said.  “Help me get her to the med bay.”

“Congratulations,” Tarrant said, “you found her, and for once Dr. Havidal won’t be pestering you.”

It was three days later that Cally came out of her coma.  “Dayna?”

“Yes, Cally, it’s me.  Good to have you back.”

“It’s good to be back.” She tried to prop herself up on her elbows, but Havidal told her to lie back down.  “And I’m guessing you’re a doctor.”

“This is Dr. Havidal,” Dayna said.  “And a good thing she’s here.  We weren’t sure you would wake up.”

“What happened to me?”

Havidal interrupted before Dayna could answer.  “It may take some time for your memories to return.  Just start slowly, with whatever you can remember, and I’m sure it will begin to come back.”

“I remember ejecting from Liberator during the Intergalactic War.  Vila and I were picked up by organleggers.  Liberator rescued us.  We met Dayna and Tarrant.”  She closed her eyes for a moment.  “It gets fuzzy after that.”

“That’s a good start,” said Dr. Havidal.  “If it’s okay with you, I’d like to keep monitoring your condition while Dayna gets your friends.”  She handed Dayna a clipboard on her way out.

Dayna read it in the corridor.  Warn them about her spotty memory.  I don’t want to traumatize her by bringing up things she doesn’t remember yet.

Chapter Text

“She remembers the five of you, but she doesn’t remember Orac,” Havidal said.  “Naturally, she never met Soolin or Carnell.  She remembers calling out Blake’s name, but she doesn’t remember why.  She doesn’t know that she died – she doesn’t remember anything about Terminal or Liberator’s destruction.  And from the way she talks about visiting Auron, I don’t think she knows about the plague.  It’s only been a week since she recovered, so more of her memories may return in time, but I think it’s time to start telling her things -- gradually to avoid overwhelming her.”

“I died,”  Cally said.  She leaned back and looked at the ceiling.  “I was dead.”  She looked back at the others, particularly Avon.  “It feels silly – we all knew we were frequently risking death, we all saw our friends die.  But the idea that I, personally, could be dead … it’s hard to wrap my mind around.  I wasn’t conscious of being dead – but I wasn’t conscious of being comatose.  Or maybe I just don’t remember it now that I’m … alive.”  She looked at the others, and then laughed softly.  “How ridiculous – I was the one who was dead, and I’m looking to you all to tell me what it was like.”  She took a deep breath.  “How long was I dead?”

“Three years.”

“Three years.  I was dead for three years.”  She paused.  “My Moon Disk!  It must be dead by now.  You didn’t ... talk to it, did you?  Tell it what happened to me?”

“Before you died, Liberator was destroyed.”

Cally looked around.  “But, this is Liberator.”

“A year ago, it was regenerated.  It’s complicated.”

Cally sighed.  “What isn’t?  Do you know how I ended up in that pocket universe?”

“We have no idea.  We thought there might have been another pinhole near Terminal, but so far we haven’t found one.”

“There was … something I dreamed about, I think,” Cally said.  “A space ship, powered by photosensitive panels that could generate enormous amounts of energy with just the light of distant stars, so much that the power banks could only store a minuscule amount.  But then there was darkness, no stars at all, and the power ran down.”

“Feldon crystals,” Avon said, “which powered Belkov’s ships.”

“And which vanished along with Cygnus-XL,” Tarrant said.  “Could they be the ships Orac detected?”

“It seems possible,” Avon said.

“Could that have something to do with how I got there?” Cally asked.

“You dreamed about something that happened after you died, connected with the pocket universe,” Avon said.  “It might be that you were already there when Cygnus-XL imploded, and something about the pocket universe gave you an awareness of it.  Even so, it would be worth investigating.”

“I know I should be grateful just to be alive,” Cally said, “but I feel that I must try to find out.”

“I think we should,” Tarrant said.  “We need to work with Orac to figure out how we can get more information.  Do you feel up to coming to the flight deck?”

“I would love to,” Cally said, “if the Doctor will allow it.”

“You seem to be strong enough,” Havidal said, “if you promise to let us know immediately if you feel weak.”

“You have my word,”

Chapter Text

The vidscreen was showing nothing but stars, but Cally was transfixed by it.  “It seems strange, since I wasn’t conscious while I was in the pocket universe, but it feels amazing to see the stars, as if I knew there weren’t any where I was.”

Avon inserted Orac’s key.  “Orac, we need to improve your analysis of the other objects in the pocket universe.”

//As I am now capable of teleporting complex devices in and out through the pinhole, I can do so with a space probe.  Since there is no stellar wind or large gravity well within the pocket universe, I should be able to maintain a teleport lock while it records information.  I have not yet discerned any patterns from our previous experiments to predict where it will arrive, but as the probe is vacuum-tolerant that is an acceptable limitation.//

Cally came closer, a quizzical expression on her face.  “Orac.  So this is Orac.  I wonder why I remembered all of you, but I did not remember Orac.”

She came still closer.  “Is it okay for me to touch it?”

//That is acceptable.//

“Thank you, Orac.”  She placed a hand tentatively on the Plexiglas case and closed her eyes.  “I remember … alone … so alone.”  She snatched Orac’s key and sat on the couch, her face in her hands, sobbing.

Tarrant sat next to her.  “It’s okay, Cally, you’re safe.”

She took a deep breath.  “I’m sorry.  I remembered Orac locking me inside my mind.”

“That was the Darkness,” Avon said.  “It tried to use Orac’s carrier wave to enter our dimension.  It knew you were a threat to it.”

“What if it tries again?” Cally asked.

“It can’t.  I installed a disruption bomb inside Orac.  If his carrier wave tries to exceed his normal energy range it will destroy Orac.”

“You’re sure it is safe?”

“Yes, it is safe.”

She handed Avon the key.  “I’m sorry.  I’ll be fine.”

Dr. Havidal was viewing the readings from a medical scanner.  “Perhaps you should lie down.  Someone can keep you company if you like.”

“That is all right,” Cally said.  “I’ll go back to my cabin and rest.”

Chapter Text

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Tarrant asked.

“I’ll be fine,” Cally said.  “I wasn’t expecting that memory to come flooding back.  I know what happened, and I know it is safe.  I need to hear what Orac found.”

Avon nodded and inserted Orac’s key.  “Orac, report on results of probe experiments.”

//One probe was lost.  Two other probes accomplished five successful trips.  Data analysis of three ships analyzed shows that all three vessels are inoperative.//

“Are any of the ships identifiable?” Avon asked.

//The first two ships are Belkov’s Orbiter and Alpha 3, which vanished in the implosion of Cygnus-XL.  There is one life form aboard the first.//

“Is it Belkov?” Tarrant asked.

//Negative.  The life form is not human and is alive in spite of the absence of life support operations.//

“What about the third ship?”

//The third vessel is the ship on which the Thaarn escaped the destruction of Crandor.  There are no life forms aboard.//

“The Thaarn?” Dayna said.  “He escaped to our universe.  How did he end up there?”

“Perhaps the same way he created Crandor,” Avon said, “with another gravity controller.”

“But not as successfully,” Tarrant said, “there’s no Crandor and a dead ship.  Orac?”

//Your analysis is correct.  There is no gravity well within the pocket universe.//

Chapter Text

Dr. Havidal was working at the desk in her cabin when the door chimed.

“Doctor, it’s Avon.”

Will wonders never cease?  “Come in.”

“Pardon me for disturbing you.”

“Not at all.  What can I do for you?”

“I have some … concerns.  After Cally was rescued, genetic analysis confirmed that she is, indeed, Cally.”

“Yes, that is my understanding.”

“However, that does not rule out the possibility that she is a clone.”

Dr. Havidal rested her stylus on the desk.  “To the best of my knowledge, the ability to accelerate the aging of a clone to maturity died with the Clonemasters.  Auronar clones mature at the same rate as any fetus.”

“Yes, that is my understanding as well,” Avon said, “unless someone else has developed that technology.”

“Then I fail to see how I can assist,” Havidal said.

“Cally’s experiences have been different from those of her clone sisters.  She had been living as a freedom fighter for years before her death.  Activities like those would leave their marks.”

“You are suggesting that I compare her current condition with her previous medical records to assess the likelihood that it is truly Cally, rather than one of her clone sisters?”

“Yes, Doctor.”

“I’m afraid I can’t do that, Avon, not without her permission.  Just as I would not examine your own records without your permission.”

“She has given you permission to access her medical records.”

“To treat her,” Havidal said, “not to investigate her without her knowledge.”

“A Federation doctor with ethics,” Avon said.  “Will wonders never cease?”

“Former Federation.  And may I remind you that my ethics are what got me here.  Carnell’s plan was predicated on his knowledge that I would treat Jenna Stannis ethically, prisoner or not.  If you want me to do this, you’ll have to persuade Cally to request it.”

Avon nodded slowly.  “My apologies, Doctor.  If I may ask another question, in the interests of your patient?”

“Go right ahead.”

“Does she remember what happened to Auron yet?”

Havidal bit her lip.  “I’m afraid not.  We do need to discuss when it would be in her best interests to tell her.”

“I see.  Well, I will leave you to your work, then.”

“Is there anything else I can do for you?” she asked, with just a tad more emphasis on the last word than was necessary.

“No, Doctor, thank you for your time.”

Chapter Text

*Come, my loves, that you may live.*

*No, these children must live.*

*You must get out of there.*

*Even Servalan’s children must have a chance.*

*There is no chance for them, only for you.*

*Put the bracelet on.*

*Come with me, live on with me.*

Then there was blackness.

Eight humans awoke to the telepathic scream.

Chapter Text

Cally rocked back and forth, her arms wrapped tightly around her.  “Franton, Patar, and the gene stocks.  All the rest are gone.”

“I’m sorry, Cally,” said Tarrant.

She nodded her head.  “In my dream, there were three voices.  The Thaarn was there.  He was trying to rescue us.”

“How could he have been there?”

“Have we looked for a pinhole near Auron?” Carnell asked.

“There’s no record of a gravimetric disturbance.”

“Maybe no one was looking for one,” Carnell said.  “The Control Center on Auron was destroyed by Servalan.”

“Orac,” Avon said, “are there any computers remaining on Auron?”

//There are a great many, but none are currently operational.//

“Then we need to go to Auron,” Cally said.

“If I may, Cally,” Carnell said, “while we’re en route to Auron, I have a few more questions about your memories.”

 “Are you sure you’re up to it?” Tarrant asked.

“I found out that I died, and that the Auronar were killed with a biological weapon,” Cally said.  “If there’s something else that bad, I want to know.”

“Other than your dream, do you remember anything else about the destruction of Auron?”

“No, I didn’t remember anything about it.”

“And you didn’t remember what happened at Terminal.”

“No, I didn’t.”

“But you remember the Intergalactic War, and being rescued along with Vila afterwards.”

“Yes.”

“And you remembered meeting Dayna and Tarrant.”

“Yes.”

“Do you remember what happened on Obsidian?”

“Yes, the Pyroans destroyed it, rather than letting the Federation take it.”

“Do you remember how the Thaarn trapped Liberator?”

“Yes, with a gravity generator.”

“He kept the crew in a cell.  Do you remember who was captured last?”

“Dayna.  After they brought her to the cell they took me to meet the Thaarn.  He was lonely.  He wanted me to rule the universe with him.  When I refused, he put me to sleep.”

“Do you remember how you escaped?  How Liberator escaped?”

Cally began to answer, then stopped.  “I … I don’t remember.”

“Do you remember anything after that?”

“No, nothing but the two dreams I’ve had,” Cally said.  “What does that mean?”

“Your crewmates found your body in the remains of the base on Terminal,” Carnell said.  “Servalan booby-trapped the base with the intention of killing all of you.  Not to dwell on the gory details, but it would have taken very advanced medical technology to reassemble it.  Doctor, does your examination show traces of the explosions which killed Cally?”

“There are signs of damage from explosions, but not to the degree you’re suggesting,” Havidal said.

“In your dream, the Thaarn spoke to you and your sister before the replication plant was destroyed, offering to rescue you.  Cally teleported back to the ship, but Zelda removed her bracelet to care for the embryos.  Zelda died.  There were explosions, but undoubtedly fewer, and not in a confined underground space.”

“Are you suggesting that the Thaarn rescued Zelda?” Cally asked.  “But I don’t have Zelda’s memories, I have mine.”

“Only up to the point at which you met the Thaarn.  As if he took a brain print while you were asleep.  When he tried to rescue you on Auron, you teleported out, and Zelda died.  The Thaarn retrieved and repaired her body, but he could not bring her back to life.”

“So he programmed her with my brain print,” Cally said.

“Yes,” Carnell said.  “He then tried to rebuild his gravity generator, but without a supply of Herculanium its power was limited, and the new pocket universe he created didn’t contain enough raw material.”

“He couldn’t get back to our universe,” Avon said, “and he couldn’t generate enough gravity to pull ships or asteroids in.”

“But then he had a stroke of luck:  Cygnus-XL imploded and created a pinhole to his universe and sucked Belkov’s ships into it, ships powered by Feldon crystals, infinitely superior to Herculanium.  But without starlight, he couldn’t generate more power.  All he had to work with was the power banks of the three ships.”

“If he were able to travel back to our universe with Feldon crystals, that would have given him all the power he needed,” Tarrant said.  “So he must not have had enough.”

“Correct.  He couldn’t afford to waste his power supply drawing random objects into the pocket universe.  So he waited until he detected a massive power supply.”

“The space platform,” Dayna said.

“Yes.  But he miscalculated.  Transferring people to and from Kennabor uses a great deal of power.  When he used his gravity generator to pull the platform into his pocket universe, the platform recognized an attack and poured as much power as possible into the force fields.  So once again he lacked the power he needed.”

“But he must have detected that Liberator was there,” Cally said, “and theorized that we would investigate.  So he needed bait.”

“Exactly.  He knew that if we discovered Cally there, we would try to find a way to retrieve her.  So he implanted the memory of Cygnus-XL in her mind.  Then we would want to try to retrieve Belkov’s ships, both to figure out what had happened to Cally and to make use of the Feldon crystals.”

“Doctor, I’ve been training to fight for years,” Cally said, “but Zelda had not.  If you compared my current condition with my previous medical records, would that indicate whether this body was Zelda’s rather than mine?”

“Yes, it probably would.”

“Then please do so.  And in the meantime, could you spar with me in the training room, Dayna?  I’d like to see how my body feels.”

Chapter Text

Dayna put an arm across Cally’s shoulders.  “Maybe it’s just a matter of being out of practice?”

“No, it’s more than that,” Cally said.  “The muscle memory isn’t there.  I think Carnell is right.  This body belonged to one of my clone-sisters.”

“How do you feel about that?”

“I’m not sure.  On the one hand, it’s good that a part of them lives on, but I feel guilty about using their body for things they didn’t approve of.  They didn’t have the desire to fight that I have.  When I was exiled, they lost the right to be part of the gene stock; my ‘violent tendencies’ tainted them.  Zelda was on my side, even if she didn’t understand me, but my other clone-sisters never forgave me.”

“You don’t remember any of it, Cally, but I do.  Zelda died because she refused to abandon the babies, but when she was ordered to stop trying to contact you and focus on packing the genetic stock for evacuation, she refused.  She knew only you could save them.  Even the leaders who exiled you admitted that you were right in the end.  Thanks to you, we were able to save the genetic stock and find a suitable planet for Franton and Patar to raise them.  I’m sure Zelda would be honored to be a part of you.”

Cally buried her face in Dayna’s shoulder.  “I miss her so much.”

“I know.  You don’t remember, but you told me afterwards.  You didn’t feel your other clone-sisters, getting sick, dying.  But you felt it when Zelda died.  We had just teleported back to Liberator.  Seconds later the Replication Plant was destroyed, and you collapsed.  I carried you back to your cabin.  You said that, as enormous as the pain of having your whole planet wiped out was, you felt the loss of Zelda even more.”

Cally said nothing.  Dayna wasn’t even sure if she was crying.