Blakes 7

[Blake is under treatment after witnessing a massacre]

Dr. Havant:
Reality is a dangerous concept. Each one of us interprets it in a slightly different way. Every sense impression is filtered by the brain and altered, sometimes just a little, sometimes completely, to fit our individual model of what the world is about. If that model should be challenged...

Roj Blake:
[chanting over and over to himself] I am *not* insane. I am *not* insane...

Dr. Havant:
No. You must put that thought completely out of your mind. You've had a shock.

Roj Blake:
[stops chanting] Yes.

Dr. Havant:
We must work together to uncover what that shock was. I'm going to prescribe a mild sedative -

Roj Blake:
No drugs!

Dr. Havant:
A mild sedative to help you to sleep. You must rest.

Roj Blake:
No! No drugs.

Dr. Havant:
All right, no drugs. Now try not to think an more. Don't worry, we'll get it sorted out.

[about Blake]

Dr. Havant:
Can't he be eliminated?

Alta Morag:
No, he's a symbol of opposition to the Administration.

Dr. Havant:
So?

Ven Glynd:
We've done cross-sectional psych readings, which show that a high percentage of people, particularly the younger ones, believe that Blake's trial was a showpiece, that his statements were rigged.

Alta Morag:
His death could be used by the dissidents. They need a hero. Alive or dead, Blake could be it.

Dr. Havant:
Difficult. I suppose my department could infect him, some rapidly terminal disease. Would his natural death help?

Ven Glynd:
I don't think so.

Alta Morag:
What we need is something to discredit him. If he could be deported to Cygnus Alpha. ... Doctor, am I right in thinking you can create experiences, implant them into a subject, who will then believe that they really happened?

Dr. Havant:
Of course. In fact, creating an illusion of reality is quite simple.

Alta Morag:
Good. Then I think we can totally destroy Blake's credibility and get him sentenced.

Roj Blake:
Where are we?

Vila Restal:
In a transit cell.

Roj Blake:
I don't understand.

Vila Restal:
You're on your way to the penal colony on Cygnus Alpha. Or you will be when the prison ship's refueled. Try to look on the bright side. It must have something. None of the guests have ever left early. In fact, none of them have ever left at all.

Roj Blake:
Why are you going there?

Vila Restal:
They didn't give me a choice. I steal things. Compulsive, I'm afraid. I've had my head adjusted by some of the best in the business. But it just won't stay adjusted.

Roj Blake:
A professional thief.

Vila Restal:
More a vocation than a profession. Other people's property comes naturally to me.

[Jenna sits down next to them]

Jenna Stannis:
[to Blake] What's the time?

Vila Restal:
[returning Blake's watch] Just taking care of it while you were unconscious. The place is full of criminals.

Vila Restal:
[about Jenna] She's a big name. It's an honor to be locked up with her.

Sub-Commander Raiker:
[to Blake] What have we here? Not a troublemaker, I hope?

Roj Blake:
I didn't hear an order.

Sub-Commander Raiker:
You didn't hear an order, sir. ... *Say it!*

Roj Blake:
I didn't hear an order... sir.

Sub-Commander Raiker:
That's better. What's your name?

Roj Blake:
Blake.

Sub-Commander Raiker:
So you're Blake. Well, made quite a name for yourself a few years back. Quite the celebrity. Something of a comedown for a leader of men, isn't it? Molesting kids?

Roj Blake:
The charges were false.

Sub-Commander Raiker:
Oh, yes, of course. Well, let me tell you something, Blake, as far as I am concerned, you are just another piece of cargo. Remember that and you might just survive the journey. Do you understand?

Roj Blake:
I understand... sir.

Servalan:
Ours will be the only voice. Imagination - our only limit.

Avon:
Imagination my only limit - and I'll be dead in a week.

Servalan:
[embracing Avon] Ours will be the only voice. Imagination - our only limit.

Kerr Avon:
[shoving her away] Imagination my only limit - and I'll be dead in a week!

[last line of episode]

[In The Liberator's teleport section]

Del Tarrant:
[to Avon and Dayna:] Summary execution is the usual punishment for boarding a Federation ship without authority. What are you doing on my ship?

Dayna Mellanby:
Are you feeling better?

Avon:
Not really. But at least I'm still alive. If I were dead I don't think I'd have this blinding headache.

[Dayna kisses Avon]

Avon:
What was that for?

Dayna Mellanby:
Curiosity.

Avon:
I'm all in favor of healthy curiosity. I hope yours isn't satisfied too easily. I think you've cured my headache.

Vila:
Why do I get all the dirty jobs?

Soolin:
Typecasting?

Borr:
Commissioner, I have the sole operative remaining alive from the Bureau at the time of the experiments on Bucol Two.

Servalan:
Who is he?

Borr:
His name is Ardus, and he's an ex-officer of the Bureau.

Servalan:
Put him on the fastest scout ship available and send him here. No flight plan is to be filed.

Borr:
That's against Bureau standing orders, Commissioner.

Servalan:
Who do you think wrote those orders, Borr? I did. So do as I say, and do it now.

Borr:
At once, Commissioner Sleer.

Borr:
Commissioner Sleer, is everything satisfactory?

Servalan:
When you dispatched Ardus here to me, did his pilot file a flight plan?

Borr:
No Commissioner. Everything was as you instructed.

Servalan:
They never arrived here, Borr.

Borr:
But they must have done!

Servalan:
I suggest you make sure that your connection with their disappearance is never discovered. Without any records to back you up, it might be hard to explain.

Borr:
There's... no cause for concern, Commissioner. I was... very discreet.

Servalan:
I hope so. Now get me the photo print record on a scientist named Justin, a genetic engineer.

Borr:
Certainly.

Vila:
You're going to shoot an unarmed prisoner?

Soolin:
When did you get religion?

Del Tarrant:
[accusingly] You enjoyed that, didn't you?

Soolin:
There are two classic ways of dealing with an hysterical woman; you didn't really expect me to kiss her, did you?

Tarrant:
You going to tell us what we've got planned, Avon?

Vila:
We know what we've got planned. Running away is what we've got planned.

Dayna:
A strategic withdrawal is what we've got planned.

Vila:
There's a difference?

Tarrant:
Oh, yes. A strategic withdrawal is running away - but with dignity.

Vila:
So lay in a course and let's get the dignified hell out of here.

Avon:
I think we can do better.

Vila:
Does that mean safer?

Avon:
In the end, winning is the only safety.

Vila:
It doesn't mean safer. I didn't think it would.

Avon:
[about the Rebellion's new figurehead] He is strongly identified with rebels, you see, and very popular with rabbles. They will follow him, and he will fight to the last drop of *their* blood. Idealism is a wonderful thing. All you really need is someone rational to put it to proper use.

Avon:
Someone like you.

Tarrant:
So where do we find this useable idealist?

Avon:
According to Orac, he is on a frontier planet called Gauda Prime.

Soolin:
Gauda Prime?

Avon:
You know it?

Soolin:
Yes, I know it. It's a bad place to be. No self-respecting idealist would be found dead there.

Avon:
I imagine that is what HE is trying to avoid: being found dead anywhere.

Tarrant:
Look, are you going to stop playing games and tell us who it is, Avon?

[Vila realizes who Avon is talking about]

Vila:
It's Blake, isn't it? You think you've found Blake.

[Avon smiles]

Blake:
Where did you get that gun?

Arlen:
I won it in a lottery. What do you care?

Dayna:
[about Blake] But Servalan told us he was dead.

Avon:
And you believed her?

Dayna:
Well, she had no reason to lie.

Avon:
She doesn't need one. It comes quite naturally to her, like breathing.

Avon:
Orac, what proof do we have that Blake is on Gauda Prime?

Orac:
That is where his trail ends.

Tarrant:
What trail? Explain.

Orac:
The chain of cause and effect amounts to a trail, if you can follow it.

Vila:
I can't even follow you.

Orac:
Everything has an effect on everything else around it. It is not easy to trace one line through the pattern of infinity, but in this case, I have. Blake is on Gauda Prime.

Orac:
Law must be established before the benefits of law can be restored.

Avon:
It is the day of the bounty hunter.

Avon:
[cut to close-up of Vila] Thieves,

Avon:
[cut to close-up of Dayna, pan to Soolin] killers,

Avon:
[cut to close-up of Tarrant] mercenaries,

Avon:
[cut to close-up of Avon; he smiles, continuing] psychopaths, are as unwelcome now as the farmers once were.

Slave:
Uh, I don't wish to interrupt, Master...

Orac:
Then kindly don't.

Slave:
I wasn't talking to you.

Orac:
You were attempting to override a superior system. Be silent.

[Scorpio is about to crash]

Orac:
The ground is very close, sir.

Tarrant:
I know that!

Vila:
[about the cabin they found] The state the roof's in, it's the same as spending a night in the open.

Dayna:
Well, if you'd prefer the trees, feel free to go. Don't let us stop you.

Vila:
I'd prefer a city, but I'd accept a town. In fact, I'd settle for some indication that we weren't the only people left alive in this miserable tree sanctuary.

Dayna:
Look, why don't you go and collect some firewood, hm?

Vila:
Because it's dark out there.

Soolin:
Surely you're not afraid of the dark.

Vila:
Only when it's unilluminated.

[after a group of aircraft passed over]

Vila:
So who do you think they were, Soolin?

Soolin:
I've no idea, Vila. But one thing I do know: if you want to survive on this planet you have to assume that everyone is out to get you.

Vila:
I always assume that wherever I go.

Soolin:
The difference is, on Gauda Prime you'll be right!

[Blake is flying Tarrant back to base]

Tarrant:
A random program.

Blake:
It's an old smuggler's trick.

Tarrant:
Did you learn it from an old smuggler?

Blake:
No, from a young one, actually. Her name was Jenna.

Tarrant:
What happened to her?

Blake:
She tried to run the blockade once too often. Happens to all of them eventually.

Tarrant:
You made the capture?

Blake:
Nobody made the capture. She hit the self-destruct. And when it blew, she took half a squadron of gunships with her.

Deva:
Well, now, bounty hunter, that was a short trip even by your standards.

Blake:
Short, but profitable.

[Blake grabs Tarrant's gun]

Blake:
Even by my standards.

Tarrant:
Was it something I said?

Blake:
His name is Tarrant.

Blake:
[to Tarrant] Your flight computer mentioned it whilst you were unconscious.

Deva:
Tarrant...

Blake:
No, I wouldn't run it through the computer just yet, Deva. You see, this one has a very high Federation price on his head.

Deva:
Are you sure?

Tarrant:
Oh, give the man credit for knowing his trade, dirty though it is.

Blake:
He also has several associates with Federation prices, and one of them is particularly valuable.

Tarrant:
And all of them are particularly dead.

Blake:
In which case, that other flier was merely a coincidence. A coincidence, however, that might just have analyzed a random flight program?

Deva:
And the significance of that is...?

Blake:
A very useful device called Orac. Why don't you sit down, Tarrant? If it is Avon, we shouldn't have much longer to wait.

Deva:
[repeating back to Tarrant] "Give the man credit for knowing his trade."

Tarrant:
What on earth happened to you?

Blake:
Oh, most of it wasn't on Earth, Tarrant. Not what happened to me.

Deva:
These stupid games you insist on playing, Blake, will get someone killed eventually.

Blake:
I have to test each one myself.

Deva:
No, you don't have to! I set up systems for that. I broke the security codes on their central computer. I got us access to official channels, information, everything we could possibly need! You don't need to be involved at all.

Blake:
All right, I find it difficult to trust. It's a failing, I admit...

Deva:
And any one of our people could select the people you've collected. You don't need to do the bounty hunter routine, either!

Blake:
Indulge me.

Deva:
Do I have a choice?

Blake:
Oh, there's always a choice, Deva.

Deva:
Not for me, there isn't. I said I'd follow you, and I will, until the Federation's finally destroyed.

[Blake enters the tracking room and comes face to face with Avon and the others]

Tarrant:
Is it him?

Vila:
It's him.

Tarrant:
He sold us, Avon. All of us. Even you.

[Avon lowers the gun and approaches Blake]

Avon:
[horrified] Is it true?

Blake:
Avon, it's me, Blake.

Avon:
Stand still!

[Blake stops]

Avon:
Have you betrayed us? Have YOU... betrayed... ME?

Blake:
Tarrant doesn't understand!

Avon:
Neither do I, Blake!

Blake:
I set all this up!

Avon:
[stunned] Yes!

Blake:
[walking towards Avon again] Avon, I was waiting for YOU!

[Avon shoots Blake, who staggers forward and grabs onto Avon's shoulders]

Blake:
Oh... Avon...

[Blake collapses, dead]

Arlen:
Be so kind as to drop your guns, all of you.

[the Scorpio crew obey]

Arlen:
You and this nest of rebels are now prisoners of the Federation. Your friend Blake said he couldn't tell anymore who was Federation and who wasn't. He was right. He couldn't.

Tarrant:
[smiling] You're a Federation agent?

Arlen:
I'm a Federation officer.

Vila:
Oh, now, look, I've never been against the Federation, I mean, I've only ever been along for the ride. I'm not even armed! You can't kill me, I'm completely harmless - and armless!

Soolin:
[about Zukan] You needed a figurehead. He was it. Or am I wrong?

Avon:
You are right. But then figureheads aren't too difficult to come by. Any idiot can be one.

Dayna:
[laughs] On your feet, Vila. This could be your big moment.

Avon:
Any idiot within reason, that is.

[Scorpio's alarm goes off]

Tarrant:
[everyone rushes to their flight positions] Slave, what's wrong?

Slave:
Well, nothing is actually wrong, sir, yet.

Avon:
Explain the alarm, Slave.

[alarm cuts out]

Slave:
I had to get your attention, Master, and I was forbidden to speak unless spoken to.

Avon:
All right, you're spoken to. What is it?

Slave:
I beg to advise you, Master, that we're approaching the planet Gauda Prime.

[the crew visibly relaxes]

Slave:
And Scorpio is under attack!

[an explosion rocks the flight deck]

Vila:
I'm entitled to my opinion.

Avon:
It is your assumption that *we* are entitled to it as well that is irritating.

President Sarkoff:
Assassination has always been a legitimate tool of statecraft. Its respectability and public acceptance has varied from civilization to civilization, but its practical application has remained remarkably consistent.

[ex-President Sarkoff thinks Blake is an assassin]

Blake:
I said, I'm not a murderer.

President Sarkoff:
I'm grateful for your semantic precision. Political assassination I can... live with. To be murdered would the final, sordid indignity.

[Sarkoff picks up an antique pistol]

President Sarkoff:
Now, my educated friend, do you know what this is?

Blake:
Uh, it's a projectile weapon.

President Sarkoff:
[pointing the gun at Blake] It's called a revolver. Explosive charge here, projectile emerges with great force and considerable accuracy, over short distances anyway. Primitive, but efficient enough for my purposes.

Blake:
[urgently] President Sarkoff, I must speak with you! Will you listen to what I have to...

[Sarkoff pulls the trigger, knowing the gun is empty]

President Sarkoff:
[lowering the gun] Ex-president.

Blake:
I haven't got time for the niceties of this game that you're playing.

President Sarkoff:
Just time for a hasty rationalization.

Blake:
I just want you to listen.

President Sarkoff:
I've wasted my life listening, listening to people who are arrogant, or vacuous, or just plain vicious. I smiled and acquiesced in the face of prejudice and stupidity. I've tolerated mediocrity and accepted the tyranny of second-class minds. But now all that is over. I am ready to die, here among the things I value. I am ready to let you kill me but I am not ready to listen to you justify the act.

Tarvin:
You talk too much.

President Sarkoff:
Yes, it's an occupational hazard, I'm afraid.

[Vila can't contact anyone else on the Liberator]

Vila:
Zen, has something happened to them?

Zen:
Data is not available.

Vila:
I don't want data, I want to know what's happening.

Zen:
It will be necessary for you to make a personal investigation.

Vila:
Oh, you're a big help. "Personal investigation."

[Vila worriedly begins putting on a gunbelt]

Vila:
"Personal investigation!" The next time Avon wants to make a personal investigation on how you work I shall make a personal point of handing him the instruments... personally!

Avon:
First sign of trouble, we get out, right?

Jenna:
Goes without saying.

Avon:
I only wish it did.

Avon:
It could be a trap.

Gan:
It's not a very good one, then. We're suspicious of it already.

Avon:
The test is not whether you are suspicious but whether you are caught.

Tarvin:
[removes Jenna's neckband and tosses it aside] Good to have you back with us, Jenna. [he touches her]

Jenna:
[walks away] This is purely a business arrangement, Tarvin.

Tarvin:
You weren't always so cold.

Jenna:
You weren't always a bounty hunter.

Tarvin:
Have you forgotten Zolaf Four?

Jenna:
Is it worth remembering?

Tarvin:
Just the two of us in the mountains.

Jenna:
And three hundred customs guards.

Tarvin:
You saved my life.

Jenna:
We all make mistakes.

Tarvin:
I thought you liked me.

Jenna:
Oh, I did. Then.

Tarvin:
Have I changed so much?

Jenna:
One of us has.

Avon:
I can talk or I can work, but I can't do both.

Kerr Avon:
[to Blake, after he has proposed a hair-brained scheme to save Gan's life] Staying with you requires a degree of stupidity of which I no longer feel capable.

Kerr Avon:
Blake! In the unlikely event that we survive this...

Roj Blake:
Yes?

Kerr Avon:
I'm finished. Staying with you requires a degree of stupidity of which I no longer feel capable.

Avon:
What about Gan?

Roj Blake:
He's still out. We've run the diagnostic checks, it might show up something.

Avon:
Yes. And that something will tell you what you already know. Why don't you face it?

Roj Blake:
[snapping] Because I don't know what to do about it!

Roj Blake:
[calmer but still upset] And if it *is* the limiter, I don't know how we can help him.

Roj Blake:
[sarcastic] Unless neurosurgery is one of your particular talents.

Avon:
Unfortunately, no.

Roj Blake:
[sits and muses] Suppose Zen gave us the necessary information *and* detailed instructions.

Avon:
Oh, come on, Blake! This is not something you do by numbers,

Avon:
[gesturing to Zen while walking past] not even highly sophisticated ones.

Avon:
[approaches Blake] This is an area that has remained the exclusive province of specialists.

Roj Blake:
Yes, I know, I know.

Avon:
There are quicker ways that you could kill him, but there are none more certain.

Vila:
Where did you come from?

Kerril:
Here and there. Mostly there.

Vila:
I think I just made the biggest mistake of my life.

Orac:
It is unlikely. I would predict there are far greater mistakes waiting to be made by someone with your obvious talent for it.

[Tarrant has bullied Vila into a dangerous mission]

Kerr Avon:
I don't know how you persuaded him to go, Tarrant.

Del Tarrant:
I appealed to his better nature.

Kerr Avon:
He hasn't got one. Leave him alone in future.

Del Tarrant:
Or?

Kerr Avon:
Do you want me to threaten you?

Del Tarrant:
Why not? I haven't had a good laugh in ages.

Kerr Avon:
Sensible. You could die laughing.

Kerr Avon:
The point is that Vila won't trust you, whereas he will trust Cally and me.

Del Tarrant:
Cally, yes, but why you?

Kerr Avon:
Because he knows what I think of him.

Del Tarrant:
You despise him!

Kerr Avon:
Right. But at least I'm consistent about it.

Kerril:
Are you playing games with me?

Vila:
Games?

Kerril:
Yes. Games. If you think what happened in here gives you the right to treat me like some sort of...

Vila:
Treat you like some sort o' what? I haven't treated you like any sort of anything. We're out there in the sunshine, when all of a sudden for no good reason at all you throw a tantrum and go off in all directions.

Kerril:
"For no good reason at all"?

Vila:
All right then, give me a good reason. I'm a reasonable man. I'll accept a good reason. I'll accept a bad reason. I'll accept any damn reason at all, just tell me what the *hell* it is I'm meant to have done.

Kerril:
You really don't know, do you?

Vila:
Isn't that what I just said?

Kerril:
Oh!

Del Grant:
We've just taken another step towards oblivion.

Roj Blake:
I'd rather not meet anyone until we get the geography of this place sorted out. Men fresh from a battle tend to be a little trigger happy.

Vila Restal:
Trigger happy?

Kerr Avon:
It would be stupid to be shot up by our own allies.

Vila Restal:
Not only stupid. Painful.

Roj Blake:
Typical Federation policy: things are more important than people.

Roj Blake:
If it is not important, then why did his name have such a strong effect upon you?

Kerr Avon:
Because the Del Grant that *I* knew said that if we ever met again, he would kill me.

Vila Restal:
I've done it! I think I've done it. I've isolated the identification sensors. It's straight combination now. Watch this: it should open like a dream.

[the safe opens with an explosion]

Roj Blake:
[Coughs] More like a nightmare.

Kerr Avon:
Hello, Del. It's been a long time.

Del Grant:
I heard you were dead.

Kerr Avon:
I heard the same about you. Wishful thinking perhaps.

Del Grant:
I'm glad the stories were wrong. I felt cheated. We have some things to settle.

Roj Blake:
You two can talk about the old days some other time. Right now we have a problem that's just a little more pressing.

Kerr Avon:
That last day, when it was all over, did they hurt her?

Del Grant:
They kept her under interrogation for nearly a week. They tried everything but she never broke. If she *had* spoken, told them what they wanted to know, she'd be alive now.

Kerr Avon:
She should have told them.

Del Grant:
She held on because she believed in you. She didn't know that you'd run out and leave her to face it alone.

Kerr Avon:
That was not the way it was.

Del Grant:
I know exactly how it was. She died under Federation torture, but it was *you* who killed her.

Vila Restal:
Which way did they go?

Ralli:
The rocket silo.

[Vila runs to the door, then runs back]

Vila Restal:
I've forgotten how to get there!

Ralli:
The junctions of corridor eleven A, fifty-one B.

Vila Restal:
Eleven A, fifty-one B!

[Vila runs out, then stops in a corridor, confused]

Vila Restal:
Five A, eleven-one B...

Del Grant:
Goodbye, Jenna.

Jenna Stannis:
Goodbye.

Del Grant:
Goodbye Cally, goodbye Vila. And thank you.

Vila Restal:
[cheerily] Any time.

Del Grant:
I'll remember that!

Vila Restal:
[apprehensively] Oh, will you?

[last lines]

Roj Blake:
Are you going to tell me about Anna?

Kerr Avon:
You wouldn't understand.

Roj Blake:
Wouldn't I?

Kerr Avon:
I doubt it.

Vila Restal:
Blake, look!

Roj Blake:
What is it?

Vila Restal:
There's a sliding section in the roof. They're launch doors.

[Vila turns a control. The lights dim and the doors slide open with a continuous whirring noise, revealing the night sky. Vila turns the control back and the doors slide shut again, just as slowly and noisily. The lights come up]

Roj Blake:
[sternly to Vila] Why don't you do that again? Maybe they didn't hear you!

[Blake and Avon exit]

Vila Restal:
Wait for me!

[after meeting Zen for the first time]

Avon:
It didn't answer any of your questions. More than that it deliberately ignored them. A computer can't have a will of it's own.

Jenna:
You'd better tell Zen that.

Avon:
Before I decided to put my talents to more profitable use -

Jenna:
And got arrested.

Avon:
I handled the computer analysis for a research project into matter transmission. It was based on a new alloy -

Blake:
Aquatar.

Avon:
[surprised] That's right.

Blake:
Yes, I worked on that project too.

Avon:
Small world.

Blake:
Large project.

Jenna:
I didn't work on it.

Vila:
[looking around Cygnus Alpha] This is nice, isn't it. What a miserable hole. If we all complained do you think they'd give us a refund.

Arco:
Shut up.

Selman:
What do you think it will be like, Arco?

Arco:
How should I know? It won't be good, will it? They don't put penal colonies on easy-living planets.

Selman:
What about guards, authorities?

Vila:
Why should they bother? It's a long walk back.

Vargas:
I am the supreme power here.

[he picks up Blake's gun and points it at him]

Vargas:
My word is law. My followers obey without question. They worship me.

Blake:
Or fear you.

Vargas:
The two are inseparable.

Vargas:
My ancestors came here on that first shipment. They had nothing! The Federation gave them no tools, no supplies! So they worked together! *They worked hard!* And made a community! There were children born here. They were settlers trying to build a new world on a new planet! Later, more Federation prisoners came. There were disagreements. The community began to break up. They fought and killed. All that they had achieved was being destroyed! And it was my great-great-grandfather who found a way to unite them. He gave them a religion. Brought them together in the love and fear of God! That is the line I stem from! *That is what gives me the right to rule!*

[regarding a temple on Cygnus Alpha]

Vila:
The architectural style is early maniac.

Arco:
We need food and shelter.

Vila:
But do we need them that badly?

Blake:
[Blake picks up an alien device on the Liberator] Hand gun?

Avon:
It's a bit elaborate for a toothpick.

Blake:
It depends on how elaborate their teeth were.

Del Tarrant:
One day Avon, I may have to kill you.

Kerr Avon:
[smiling] It has been tried.

[regaining conciousness, Vila sees several Avons kneeling over him]

Vila Restal:
I'm in Hell, and it's full of Avons.

[Vila is trying to open a jammed airlock hatch in a spacesuit]

Vila Restal:
I am now trying to open the hatch.

Del Tarrant:
[on communicator] Use you delicate skillful touch.

[Vila kicks the hatch open]

Vila Restal:
I used my delicate skillful boot.

Vila Restal:
Tell us about the Thaarn, Cally.

Cally:
It's the oldest story in the Book of Auron.

Vila Restal:
Well, let's hear it. I like a good story, meself.

Cally:
The story goes back to the mists of time, to the Dawn of the Gods. There were seven gods who discovered the planet Auron, and on it left the first man and woman. A million years went by. The gods returned. They were no older even though a million years had past.

Kerr Avon:
Not impossible, if they had a spaceship capable of traveling at near the speed of light.

Cally:
I did say it was just a legend. The gods returned and were pleased with what they saw, and they bestowed on the people of Auron great gifts: new types of crops, which ended hunger, constant peace ...

Del Tarrant:
And telepathy?

Cally:
- and telepathy was promised. But one of the gods was very jealous. He didn't believe that the people of Auron deserved all this. He was frightened they would one day become so powerful they would challenge the supremacy of the gods themselves. And in his rage, he killed another god. The five remaining gods were so angry, they built a chariot for him and sent him beyond the threshold of space and time. The mad god swore a terrible vengeance. He said that he would return again. He said that he alone would discover the eternal secrets and become the one great master of the universe.

Groff:
There is a member of your crew we cannot find. Orac. Where is he?

The Caliph:
[to Tarrant] The neuronic whip is on an automatic setting. It has only to sense one lie and it will boil your brains in your skull. Where is Orac?

Del Tarrant:
If he's not on the ship, I don't know where he is.

The Caliph:
How tall is he?

[Tarrant gestures]

The Caliph:
A dwarf?

Del Tarrant:
We never think of him as one.

The Caliph:
What is the color of his hair?

Del Tarrant:
He hasn't got any. A bald dwarf shouldn't be too hard to find.

Del Tarrant:
[holding a pencil] Graphite writing stick? I've never seen these things outside museums.

Del Tarrant:
[holding up a finger] Groff, what's that?

Groff:
A finger?

Del Tarrant:
A finger. And as you can see, it is better designed for pressing buttons than holding writing implements. So why can't we use computers?

Groff:
The Lord Thaarn will not permit their development on Krandor. He will allow no superior intellects to his.

Del Tarrant:
Why not?

Groff:
I don't know. It is better not to ask such questions!

Kerr Avon:
Perhaps he had an unfortunate experience with a computer.

Del Tarrant:
Haven't we all?

Del Tarrant:
And what do you suggest we do?

Kerr Avon:
Examine the outside.

Del Tarrant:
If you want to teleport into oblivion, you just go right ahead.

Kerr Avon:
The outer teleport transducers were damaged when the force wall collapsed. Someone is going to have go out through the inspection hatch in a spacesuit and replace them.

Vila Restal:
The time we've been in space without a refit that - that hatch will be space-welded shut. Anyway, who would risk it?

Kerr Avon:
Someone who has a talent for opening locked doors.

Del Tarrant:
And has demonstrated a grasp of the problems involved.

Vila Restal:
[pauses in realization] Oh no. Not me. Not a space suit. Well, it wasn't my idea! One of you can go outside! I never did trust those things. Nothing, absolutely nothing in the whole galaxy can or will persuade me to wear one. Not a chance.

Vila Restal:
[crossfade to Vila standing dejectedly in a spacesuit] I'm now in the inspection compartment.

Commentator:
[voiceover, dignified and measured] Space. "The Final Frontier" as it was once called. A weightless, freezing vacuum, here created artificially and maintained by the central computer as one of the hundreds of different environments offered by the combat grounds for the coming battle.

[the viewscreen shows shifting scenes of different environments:
oceans, rocky shores, tropical beaches, etc.]

Commentator:
In giant chambers, exact recreations like these you see are controlled by the combat computer. Environments from other planets, other cultures, other times. The computer will choose which of these environmental chambers will be used for the battle. This choice is what the combat grounds are all about. In the words of the Convention, "Let no man say, 'This man chose the ground on which we die.'"

[Darvid stands in front of a combat grounds chamber entrance]

Commentator:
The combatants will each enter the chamber through a door like this. Only the computer will know what awaits them on the other side. Their only clue will lie in this locker, which contains protective clothing and specialized weapons, should the environment behind that door require them.

[Darvid holds his hand against ear for a couple of seconds.]

Commentator:
And I've just been told that the combatants are in fact now arriving at the spaceport, and we are going across to join the thousands of cheering spectators who are waiting to catch a glimpse of the two men on whose skill the outcome of this war depends.

Commentator:
[in an ordinary conversational tone] That all right?

Viscast Director:
[bored] Fine.

Commentator:
Oh, that good, eh?

Viscast Director:
Well, what do you want me to say? It was your usual delicate mixture of enthusiasm and dignified clich?.

Commentator:
I love you too. What's next?

Viscast Director:
[incredulous] You mean you've forgotten? I don't know why we bothered to rehearse.

Commentator:
From the way you've been juggling those remotes I didn't think you had.

Viscast Director:
If the performer won't move then the camera must.

Commentator:
I thought it might confuse you if I moved.

Viscast Director:
Oh, you've been *thinking*? Another first.

[unintelligible sounds of another voice]

Viscast Director:
What? What d'you mean you've missed them? Oh, wonderful! Congratulations! Crowd scenes we can get anywhere, you idiot! Darvid?

Commentator:
Yes?

Viscast Director:
We missed them at the spaceport.

Commentator:
[calmly] It happens.

Viscast Director:
[frustrated] Only to me! They didn't even wave to the crowd. Their seconds bundled them straight into two V.I.P. shuttles and off.

Commentator:
We'll get some good shots of them when they present their credentials to the Arbiters.

Viscast Director:
Oh, remembered finally have we?

Viscast Director:
Listen: *Our Heroes* should arrive in about thirty minutes; you want to wander down and place the remotes for me?

Commentator:
[amusedly mimicking the director's sarcastic tone] "Our Heroes"? I suppose you'd change places with them, would you? Step through one of those doors without any idea of what's in there, without even knowing whether your opponent's been let in first and is all set up and waiting; you'd fancy that would you?

Viscast Director:
Not a lot, but then I'm not a professional killer.

Commentator:
[snidely] That's not what the critics say.

Viscast Director:
[offended pause] You want to position those remotes for me, Darvid?

Commentator:
All right, give me voice control.

Viscast Director:
[coolly] You've got it.

Commentator:
[to something off-screen] Follow me, men. We have one hero and one dead man to meet, and as yet no way to tell which... is which.

[Darvid beckons with one finger and walks away. Three floating cameras come into view and follow him.]

Cally:
Did she really think you were a god?

Kerr Avon:
For a while.

Roj Blake:
How did it feel?

Kerr Avon:
Don't you know?

Roj Blake:
Yes... I don't like the responsibility either.

[the tired crew are watching the screen. Avon, bored, activates a tool for moment to break the silence, then gets up to leave.]

Vila Restal:
Have you thought of another plan?

Kerr Avon:
Yes: I'm going to get some sleep.

Vila Restal:
How can you sleep with all this happening?

Kerr Avon:
With all what happening? Blake is sitting up in a tree; Travis is sitting up in another tree. Unless they're planning to throw nuts at one another, I don't see much of a fight developing before it gets light.

Olag Gan:
You're never involved, are you Avon? You ever cared for anyone?

Vila Restal:
Except yourself?

Kerr Avon:
I have never understood why it should be necessary to become irrational in order to prove that you care, or, indeed, why it should be necessary to prove it... at all.

[Avon exits]

Vila Restal:
Was that an insult or did I miss something?

Cally:
You missed something.

Gan:
You're never involved, are you Avon? Have you ever cared for anyone?

Vila:
...Except yourself?

Avon:
I have never understood why it should be necessary to become irrational in order to prove that you care. Or indeed why it should be necessary to prove it - *at all*.

[exits]

Vila:
Was that an insult, or did I just miss something?

Cally:
You missed something!

Sinofar:
Our powers grew out of a thousand years of war, out of hate, and fear, and the will to survive.

Giroc:
[on Liberator's screen] We built destruction, weapons that your peoples have not yet dreamed of. Every passing year brought new ways to kill, and throughout the centuries the war raged across our planet.

Sinofar:
[on planet] With each generation there were fewer of us. The dead vastly outnumbered the living. There was not victory for either side.

Roj Blake:
How did it end?

Giroc:
How? Another development of another weapon. We demanded their surrender, they refused. The weapon was used. Those that we call our enemy were annihilated.

Space Commander Travis:
You won. That's all that matters.

Sinofar:
It wasn't a victory, only the end of the war! We were left with a planet made barren by radiation. Our children were monsters, or died, or were never born. This, we won.

Roj Blake:
How many of you are there now?

Giroc:
None. We are a dead race.

[thunderclap]

Sinofar:
We tell you this so that you will understand our reasons for intervening in your dispute.

Roj Blake:
[laughs] I get the distinct feeling I offended Zen's professional pride then.

Avon:
It's just a machine, Blake.

Vila:
And he should know.

Gan:
Well Avon is the expert.

Vila:
That's not what I meant.

Avon:
No, he was calling me a machine, but since he undoubtedly defines himself as a human being, I shall choose to accept that as more of a compliment than anything else.

Jenna Stannis:
Do you believe what they told us? About themselves, I mean.

Roj Blake:
With that much power why bother to lie?

Jenna Stannis:
That's one way to become a hunted man: trust the powerful.

Roj Blake:
True.

Avon:
If any of our control systems are damaged by the impact, we will be helpless.

Roj Blake:
We're not exactly in a commanding position now.

Jenna Stannis:
Activating!

Roj Blake:
Have you got any better ideas? [violent impact. As Blake and Avon reel back, Avon clutches Blake protectively]

Avon:
As a matter of fact, no I haven't.

Roj Blake:
Does that mean you agree?

Avon:
Do I have a choice?

Roj Blake:
Yes.

Avon:
Then I agree. [lets go of Blake]

Space Commander Travis:
You do realize that any hostile act against me will be regarded as a hostile act against the Federation. [Giroc laughs] Have you any idea of the risk you're running? [Giroc laughs harder]

Roj Blake:
They don't seem very impressed, Travis. [laughs] Why don't you try stamping your foot?

Vila:
Have you thought of another plan?

Avon:
Yes. I'm going to get some sleep.

Vila:
How can you sleep with all this happening?

Avon:
With all what happening? Blake is sitting up in a tree, Travis is sitting up in another tree. Unless they're planning to throw nuts at one another, I don't see much of a fight developing before it gets light.

Belkov:
Look, d'you realize the problems I had setting up this entire mining operation? Theirs is a very ancient civilization, you know.

Commissioner Sleer:
I didn't come here for a history lesson.

Belkov:
It is relevant!

[Belkov shows Sleer a crystal necklace in a glass case]

Belkov:
The Mecronian high priests used these as a symbol of their power. Now there is a legend about the feldon necklaces. A chief once stole one, the gods became angry and struck him down. Of course, the gods' anger was merely an electrical storm in which a hunk of polished feldon crystals that size would absorb enough energy to blow holes in any number of recalcitrant chiefs.

Commissioner Sleer:
[impatient] How fascinating.

Belkov:
Yes, but you see, the priests have been cashing in on this piece of luck for generations, so I decided to join them. I said their gods had sent me to collect the crystals. Well, not unnaturally, they were not particularly impressed, well not at first anyway.

Commissioner Sleer:
I can imagine.

Belkov:
So I borrowed a necklace. All it needed then was a well-placed remote-controlled laser rifle to ensure that only the chosen one could wear it. After six of them had died in the attempt, they found my survival quite miraculous.

Commissioner Sleer:
Your survival is becoming more miraculous by the moment.

Guard:
This is a restricted area.

Gerren:
I am Academician Gerren doing geological survey work for the Planetary Resources Commission.

Guard:
Papers?

[Gerren hands them over]

Guard:
That seems to be order.

Guard:
[to Vila and Tarrant] You?

Gerren:
They are part of my survey team.

Guard:
I still need to see their papers.

Vila Restal:
I seem to have left mine behind.

Guard:
Then I'm sure you won't object to being searched. Search him!

[the other guard frisks Vila and finds the Mecronian knife]

Guard:
Four of our men have been killed with a knife like that.

Vila Restal:
You don't think - I mean, I'm not the violent type, really I'm not.

Guard:
Then why do you carry that?

Vila Restal:
I found it.

Guard:
Where?

Vila Restal:
It was stuck in one of your men.

Kerr Avon:
[into communicator] Dayna, we're down safe in Orbiter and proceeding.

Gambit, Orac:
[in unison] Countdown twelve minutes, twenty seconds, and running.

Vila Restal:
What does that mean?

Kerr Avon:
I imagine that if we're not out of here by the time it hits zero, we might regret it.

[Soolin presses the button to reveal the screen and start the game. She picks up the electronic pistol]

Gambit, Orac:
Control system feedback is through the weapon. The game adjusts to meet, and on the last shot, exceed the proficiency of the players.

Soolin:
You have to outshoot yourself.

Del Tarrant:
Stupid game.

Soolin:
Not really. Finally a game worth playing.

Orac:
A computer must, by definition, be logical. But it can also mirror the logic of its creator.

Soolin:
You mean it's an extension of his mind.

Orac:
[testily] No, that is *not* what I mean.

Soolin:
His personality, then.

Orac:
[more considerate] A better definition, but still not quite accurate.

Kerr Avon:
Would it know how the booby traps on the orbiter are programmed?

Orac:
As yet, I don't have enough data to answer that question.

Kerr Avon:
[growing impatient] *If* it knew, could you extract the information from it?

[Orac doesn't respond immediately. Avon gives Orac a whack out of pique]

Kerr Avon:
Come on! That's a simple enough question.

Orac:
There might be problems.

Kerr Avon:
Why? You have extracted information from Federation computers before now. This is just a hodgepodge of three or four of them. You have already said that it is inferior to you.

Orac:
The difficulty is not technical. It's more one of, uh, attitude.

Kerr Avon:
Ah. You mean the *logic* of its creator.

Orac:
Exactly. Let me remind you of ancient Earth mythology: the Delphic Oracle would answer questions truthfully without giving a true answer.

Kerr Avon:
So what we need is not the right answer, but the right question.

Soolin:
And in circumstances where any mistake would prove fatal?

Orac, Gambit:
[in unison] The orbiter is preprogrammed. Flight power depends on the distance and intensity of each star the feldon panels are locked into. The successful completion of a game continues the sequence. To regain control, you must complete the coded sequence of star sources.

Vila Restal:
What about the feldon crystals?

Kerr Avon:
Gambit?

Orac, Gambit:
This game will reveal the entrance.

Soolin:
All we have to do is lock on to the right star.

Orac:
It is possible that we've just received the right answer to the wrong question.

[Orac is possessed by an evil android]

Orac:
Join us, Soolin. We can fulfill your every desire.

Soolin:
[turning Orac off] You wouldn't know where to start.

Vila Restal:
If Avon rates this Muller as such a genius why didn't he come for the man himself?

Del Tarrant:
He probably just wanted to get you away from the base, to avoid more bother over Muller's lady.

Vila Restal:
I was a perfect gentleman towards her.

Del Tarrant:
That's what bothered us.

[Things are going awry with Muller's rescue]

Vila Restal:
A straightforward pickup job you said. As last words go, they're not likely to be famous.

Del Tarrant:
You should worry.

Vila Restal:
I do! Supposing they fire off a few interceptors in this direction?

Del Tarrant:
Duck.

Kerr Avon:
I'll be back.

[Vila is hiding from the android in a closet when Soolin finds him]

Soolin:
Is this a private game or can anyone play?

Vila Restal:
[coming out of the closet] We've been looking for you.

Soolin:
In there?

[Scorpio's life support has failed, leaving Tarrant and Vila stranded]

Kerr Avon:
[to Orac] Situation.

Orac:
Total systems failure.

Dayna Mellanby:
They'll be dying up there!

Kerr Avon:
Not yet!

Soolin:
They won't have long.

Kerr Avon:
They have oxygen units and suits.

Dayna Mellanby:
In the dark? Under those conditions?

Kerr Avon:
Orac?

Orac:
They must be left there!

Kerr Avon:
To die?

Orac:
There is no option. To reopen teleport contact could expose the base to undefined systems influence.

[pause]

Kerr Avon:
Oh, you'll have to do better than that, Orac, if you expect me to *kill* them.

[Avon has ordered Orac to restore teleport contact with Scorpio so they can rescue Vila and Tarrant]

Kerr Avon:
Is it restored?

Orac:
I am obliged to do as you tell me, even though I know it to be wrong.

Kerr Avon:
Only following orders? That's not very original, Orac.

Orac:
There is nothing very original about domination, as you will discover.

[Slave is refusing to follow the crew's orders]

Kerr Avon:
[on communicator] What's happening?

Del Tarrant:
Slave appears to have thrown off his chains.

Soolin:
Well, Orac?

Orac:
Prospects terminal.

Soolin:
Terminal?

Orac:
The survival of organic humanoid life is improbable.

Soolin:
Are you talking about Vila and Tarrant?

Orac:
All organic humanoid life throughout the galaxy is at hazard.

Soolin:
Let's stick to medicine, Orac. Leave the philosophy for later.

Avon:
I am not expendable, I'm not stupid and I'm not going.

Cally:
I'm going down.

Vila Restal:
You can't do that, Cally.

Cally:
They are in trouble. Someone must go down!

Olag Gan:
I'll go.

Vila Restal:
Gan'll go!

Olag Gan:
And Vila will go with me, won't you Vila?

Vila Restal:
Will I?

Olag Gan:
Well, it'd be stupid to go on my own. And you wouldn't want to send Cally in your place, would you?

Vila Restal:
Probably not. [to Avon:] What about you?

Kerr Avon:
What about me?

Vila Restal:
Why don't you go?

Kerr Avon:
*You* are expendable.

Vila Restal:
And you're not?

Kerr Avon:
No, I am not. I am not expendable, I'm not stupid, and I'm not going.

Olag Gan:
I'll get the guns.

Kommissar:
He's a common thief; he confessed at once. The spaceship is heavily protected by a force field but the man is ignorant - he knows nothing of its technical capacity.

Ro:
What are you going to do with him?

Kommissar:
Put him to work. It seems he's never done any in his life.

Vila Restal:
"Werk"?

[Orac is teaching Gan something when Cally enters]

Cally:
How is the lesson?

Gan:
Difficult.

Cally:
Well, Orac isn't exactly the ideal teacher.

Gan:
Well, I'm not exactly the ideal pupil.

Orac:
That is because you are too easily distracted.

Avon:
What's a freighter doing this far out? He's in Zone Eight already. Where the hell is he going?

Blake:
Zen, plot of the freighter's course?

Zen:
Freighter's course is one oh four grid.

Blake:
[surprised] That'll take him into Zone Nine.

Avon:
[ironically] So, we are free of the Federation.

Blake:
Persistent, aren't they?

Avon:
Let's just get out of his way.

Blake:
It was you that asked the question. Where are they going? We're hiding, already on the edge of the spiral rim. He's going further out.

Blake:
[after a moment's pause] Zen, give us a course and speed where we can observe out of range of the freighter's detectors.

Avon:
I'm sorry I mentioned it.

Vila:
Aren't we all?

Zen:
The freighter's present course will take it into Zone Nine in four hours at present speed.

Blake:
Where in Zone Nine?

Zen:
The freighter is on course for the only habitable planet in Zone Nine.

Blake:
Which is?

Zen:
Code-named Horizon.

Blake:
"Horizon"?

Avon:
Code-named by whom?

Zen:
Data was obtained via Federation cipher. Data also suggests that it is visited annually by a Federation supply freighter.

Blake:
Carrying what?

Zen:
There is no information.

[Blake considers for a moment]

Blake:
What are the surface conditions on Horizon?

Zen:
Negative information.

Blake:
Population?

Zen:
Negative information.

Blake:
Well, is there *any* information on Horizon?

Zen:
Negative.

Blake:
Well, is the information on Horizon *classified*?

Zen:
Negative information.

Vila:
Well, that was a whole lot of nothing.

Jenna Stannis:
Why exactly are we going down?

Blake:
The Resistance needs a base, Jenna. [Blake accepts teleport bracelet from Jenna] Thank you. Somewhere to operate from.

Jenna Stannis:
And this could be it?

Blake:
Well, it's as good as any other. We know the Federation only visit it once a year; it's on the edge of the spiral rim... Oh, hell, I'm tired of running, Jenna. We must get at least *one* planet behind us.

Jenna Stannis:
And why are you taking me with you?

Blake:
[unconvincingly:] I trust you to back me.

Jenna Stannis:
Thanks. But there's more to it than that: you were very deliberate.

Blake:
Covering the angles?

Jenna Stannis:
Well, how do you mean?

Blake:
Avon might run. [Avon enters the teleport bay quietly behind Blake and Jenna, overhearing] But he probably won't without a first-class pilot. He, um, plays the percentages.

Jenna Stannis:
Unlike you.

Avon:
I am ready if you are.

Avon:
If I go alone, can I pilot the Liberator indefinitely?

Orac:
With the help of the automatics, of course you can.

Avon:
I know that.

Orac:
[testily] Then why did you ask the question?

Avon:
[Avon smiles] I didn't. How long can I maintain myself?

Orac:
Is *that* a question?

Avon:
Yes.

Orac:
We have concentrated food for one person for a thousand years.

Avon:
And our power is self-regenerating.

Orac:
Affirmative.

Avon:
Can you plot courses to keep out of the range of any known spaceship manned by the Federation?

Orac:
The battle and navigation computers can handle that perfectly adequately.

Avon:
I asked if *you* could.

Orac:
Of course, should it be necessary.

Avon:
Failing that, we are powerful enough to resist all but an attack by three Federation pursuit ships at once.

Orac:
Is that a question?

Avon:
No. If we go now, we can sail the universe for as long as we like in reasonable safety, provided we keep out of everybody's way and we do not do anything rash.

Orac:
No data available to answer the question... if it was a question.

Avon:
I put it to you as a possibility. I request the odds.

Orac:
The odds would be three point five to one on survival.

Avon:
[Resolute:] Therefore I do not need Blake, I do not need any of the others...

Orac:
Is that a question?

Avon:
...I do not need anybody at all.

Orac:
Is that a question? I - I - I must ask you to be more specific!

Avon:
[snaps out of his moment:] Shut up, Orac.

[Avon walks around the flight deck. Coded beeps come in]

Avon:
Zen, what was that?

Zen:
A message from the Federation freighter on the planet Horizon.

Avon:
What did it say - Decode.

Zen:
It is in Federation code nine. Message reads, "Top priority signal to any Federation pursuit unit, from Kommissar, planet Horizon. Request assistance. Ruler of Horizon unreliable, am disposing of him. Rebel spaceship at grid reference ten by thirteen W Zed. Request you destroy this spaceship at once. Also inform Federation Central Control of this action. Await confirmation."

Avon:
Has anybody else picked it up?

Zen:
Negative.

[Avon turns just before more beeps come in. He turns back]

Avon:
[Firmly:] Decode.

Zen:
From Federation Pursuit Flotilla Thirteen, to Kommissar, planet Horizon. Message reads, "Coming to your immediate aid. Regret cannot relay your message to Federation Central Control. They are out of range. Planetfall, two hours from now."

Avon:
How many pursuit ships in Flotilla Thirteen?

Zen:
Three pursuit ships.

[Avon laughs at how fate has foiled his plan before it could start]

[Under heavy Federation attack]

Blake:
Hang on everyone, this is going to be rough!

Vila:
I don't mind rough. It's fatal I'm not keen on!

Vila:
What did I do to deserve this?

Avon:
How long a list would you like?

Vila Restal:
What did I do to deserve this?

Kerr Avon:
How long a list would you like?

Councilor Joban:
Some members of the council are concerned that many of our citizens now know of Blake's activities, and those of the renegade Travis.

Servalan:
[surprised] But there have been no public spacecasts on either Travis or Blake.

Councilor Joban:
People talk, Servalan. There's no way of stopping them.

Servalan:
This is a major breach of security. The punishment is total. Who are these people who have been talking? I want their names, Councilor.

Councilor Joban:
All sorts of citizens from Alphas to labor grades know of Blake's defiance of the Federation. They talk of him as a sort of... hero, many of them.

Servalan:
What rubbish.

Councilor Joban:
His men impede progress, and more importantly order. *Order*, Servalan. It is all that matters.

Servalan:
I do not need you to remind me of that.

Councilor Joban:
The council ask 'where is Blake's head?' And we have no answer.

Servalan:
You shall have it.

Councilor Joban:
The answer, or his head?

Servalan:
Both.

Vila:
Avon, when are you going to repair that detector shield?

Avon:
Whenever we stumble across the parts I need.

Cally:
Maybe we should give priority to getting them.

Vila:
Yes, maybe we should.

Blake:
Looks as though the Federation have developed a shield themselves.

Cally:
Yes, well they got very, very close before we saw them.

Avon:
And that is the most depressing aspect of the whole affair. I was rather hoping to sell them the idea.

Gambrill:
If there's anything in this message, sir, I suppose this could be a little piece of history.

Dr. Bellfriar:
A high point in your scientific career, Gambrill. Just think of it, in less than twenty minutes you could be shaking hands with an exomorph.

Gambrill:
Not if it's hostile sir, I've got my pension to think about.

Dr. Bellfriar:
So you really do teleport, do you?

Blake:
Over short distances, yes.

Dr. Bellfriar:
Well, of course, the theory's as old as physics, but I didn't know it had been cracked yet.

Blake:
Liberator's a very advanced ship. Of course, you have to know the surface conditions, otherwise teleporting's a bit like a jump in the dark. You're quite liable to surface in a fission reactor.

Dr. Bellfriar:
Not a mistake you could learn by, really.

Vila:
Nerves getting a little frayed?

Avon:
There are a quarter of a million volts running through that converter. I make one false move, I'll be so crisped up what's left of me won't fit into a sandwich.

Vila:
I'm a vegetarian. Thanks for the offer, though.

Blake:
I think they should be warned.

Jenna Stannis:
What about?

Blake:
There's life aboard.

Jenna Stannis:
Blake, that is a Federation base down there. The salvagers are manned by Federation personnel.

Blake:
They're human.

Jenna Stannis:
I need proof of that.

Dr. Bellfriar:
And just who are you?

Blake:
Well, according to the Federation, I'm a political criminal. You may have heard of me. My name is Blake.

Dr. Bellfriar:
Yes, but then we're absentminded scientists, you see. In fact, we've forgotten your name already. Haven't we, Gambrill?

Gambrill:
Whose name, sir?

Vila:
I hope you can trust him.

Avon:
I told you, he's a friend of mine.

Vila:
Yes, I always knew you had a friend. I used to say to people, "I bet Avon's got a friend, somewhere in the galaxy."

Avon:
And you were right. That must be a novel experience for you.

Tynus:
By the way, why don't our detectors pick up the Liberator?

Vila:
Anti-detection screen, one of Avon's gadgets. We're expecting it to break down any time.

Vila:
When Avon holds out the hand of friendship, watch his other hand. That's the one with the hammer.

Vila:
You don't have a lot of time for Blake, do you?

Avon:
I could never stand heroes.

Vila:
A quarter of a million volts and you're putting your hand in?

Avon:
Ah, but *that* is self-interest. We need that crystal. Blake takes risks to help *other* *people*. Sometimes people he doesn't even know. One day that great big bleeding heart of his will get us *all* killed.

Vila:
Unless somebody ditches him first.

[Avon and Vila share meaningful looks]

Tynus:
Relax, you've nothing to worry about.

[Tynus steps out to the outer office to take a call]

Vila:
[to Avon:] And if you believe that, you'll believe anything.

Avon:
Keep an eye on the corridor.

Tannoy voice:
Attention! All personnel are instructed to remain at their posts. The situation is under control.

Vila:
[incredulous] "Under control"? You know this could be another Casarus.

Avon:
What?

Vila:
You remember the Casarus swamp fever; killed millions.

Avon:
Well there aren't millions here, so don't worry about it.

Vila:
Well *I'm* here, and I *do* worry about it! I don't like bugs! You can't hear them, you can't see them and you can't feel them, then suddenly you're *dead*!

Dr. Bellfriar:
Everyone who's been into deep space has had the Terran ague, or the three-day sweats as it's commonly known as. It's a sort of a mild infection, it slightly alters the body's nucleic structure, it seems to be a metabolic reaction to space travel. Well this new virus, Paratype 926, attacks those altered cells and acts as a catalyst, they burst and, well the effects are literally a series of explosions that race through the body's neural cell structure. The virus is easily cultured in human tissue or in nucleic acid solution. Now, here is the formula for the antiserum...

Blake:
[On Liberator] Dr. Bellfriar, are you saying that this virus is only effective against human beings who've been in deep space?

Dr. Bellfriar:
Precisely. It fits your theory. But I don't think that the virus was designed to *destroy* man, merely to confine him to his own planet. Now here is the formula.

Blake:
Go ahead.

Dr. Bellfriar:
H-N, H-N-O... oh my God!

Blake:
Dr. Bellfriar! Dr. Bellfriar!

Dr. Bellfriar:
I've forgotten how to read.

[Dr. Bellfriar looks at his hands. They're covered in blisters. He groans and covers his face]

Blake:
Transmission ends.

Vila:
*Fosforon* ends.

Cally:
It's no joke, Vila.

[Last lines of episode]

Blake:
Cally, Jenna, get the ship moving. I'm going to put out a plague warning.

Avon:
[incensed] Are you crazy?

Blake:
I've got to warn all traffic to stay away from Fosforon until that virus burns itself out.

Avon:
Listen, Blake: Servalan is on her way here. She lands on Fosforon, she gets the plague, she's off our backs for good! You *cannot* put out a warning!

Blake:
Suppose some of them don't die. Suppose some of them get off in a ship. That plague goes out to all the galaxies, *millions* will die because of it! *That* is the one responsibility that I will *not* take!

[Blake turns to address the Liberator's computer. Avon stews a moment over the rebuff]

Blake:
Zen, I want to put a plague warning transmitter into orbit 'round Fosforon. Then set a course for the constellation Sauros; speed: standard by ten.

Zen:
Confirmed.

[FX shot of Liberator slowly turning with deep space freighter The London docked with it, standing in for the plague beacon]

Blake:
There has to be a warning, Jenna. There has to be.

[Jenna starts to say something, then simply nods in agreement. Liberator leaves orbit]

Gambrill:
Well, you said this base was full of psychotics, you wait 'til you hear this one.

Dr. Bellfriar:
What exactly is that supposed to mean?

Blake:
I told him I teleported here. He didn't believe me.

Dr. Bellfriar:
Well, Gambrill's like that, I'm afraid. Lacks faith.

Blake:
Defined as the capacity to believe what you know isn't true?

Cally:
My people have a saying, "A man who trusts can never be betrayed, only mistaken."

Avon:
The life expectancy must be fairly short among your people.

Kendall:
[Putting neutrotope in the box] Yes, it's enough to tempt anyone. There are men who would betray their companions for a lot less.

Kerr Avon:
[Appearing in doorway] What a very cynical thought, Doctor.

Cally:
Remember that Avon and I will be staying. We will regard ourselves as hostages against Blake's return.

Kerr Avon:
Well thank you Cally, what a clever idea.

Cally:
[telepathically] Blake will return.

Kerr Avon:
You can bet your life on it, in fact you've just bet both our lives on it.

Cally:
We must help these people. [She and Avon hand their teleport bracelets to Blake]

Kerr Avon:
Must we? Personally, I don't care if their whole planet turns into a mushroom.

Vila Restal:
[Entering with Blake] Where are Cally and Avon?

Roj Blake:
It's a long story.

Vila Restal:
Well, what's in the box?

Roj Blake:
It's an even longer story.

Vila Restal:
I like stories!

Avon:
It is frequently easier to be honest when you have nothing to lose.

Zen:
In one point zero three minutes, it will no longer be possible to operate force wall and main drive simultaneously. Please decide which to close down.

Jenna Stannis:
Without main drive we'll never get out of this.

Vila Restal:
Without the force wall we'll be smashed to pieces!

Roj Blake:
Have the locators detected the outer edge of the storm yet?

Vila Restal:
[looks at his panel] No. Yes! No... Maybe.

Roj Blake:
Which is it, Vila?

Vila Restal:
[looks again] It's "Maybe."

Zen:
Directive is now required.

Vila Restal:
[to Jenna] I don't think I feel very well.

Olag Gan:
[retrieving the neutrotope box from the floor] I hope nothing's been broken.

Roj Blake:
So do I.

[Blake keys the combination and opens the box. It's empty]

Roj Blake:
It's still on the Ortega! We've got to get back to them!

Vila Restal:
[to a stunned Jenna] Now I *know* I don't feel very well.

Dayna:
Do we fight?

Avon:
Certainly not. We run.

Vila:
Twenty-seven days.

Avon:
What?

Vila:
We've been following Servalan for twenty-seven days! Course six-four-five-three, nil curvature, standard by three never mind the occasional ion cloud or asteroid cluster, just blast a way through them! She's gone mad. Or dead. That's it, she's dead! We're following a rogue star cruiser!

Vila:
I'm bored.

Dayna:
You're boring, Vila.

Zen:
Navigation computers report high-energy interference with directional probes. Automatic control untenable.

Del Tarrant:
Battle stations!

[the crew rush to their positions]

Del Tarrant:
Zen, this interference... is there any hostile design to it?

Zen:
There is a uniform design to it.

Avon:
Is it hostile?

Zen:
The word hostile is not objective.

Avon:
Zen, this is no time to quibble over terminology!

[last lines]

Zen:
Information. Three alien spacecraft in hostile formation bearing zero-zero-nine, two million spacials.

Del Tarrant:
Flight deck.

[They run to take their places on the bridge]

Del Tarrant:
Zen, enemy position.

Zen:
One million spacials. We have visual contact with hostile commander.

Del Tarrant:
Put her on.

Servalan:
[on the viewscreen] Liberator, this is Servalan, President and Supreme Commander of the Terran Federation. You are outnumbered, and at a tactical disadvantage. If you surrender your ship...

[Avon cuts off the transmission]

Dayna:
Do we fight?

Avon:
Certainly not. We run. Zen, course zero-one-one, speed, standard by six. Get us out of here.

Avon:
For a man of his era - to coin a phrase - he has just made one hell of a stupid mistake.

Avon:
[his wrist being tortured] Aaah!

Dayna:
All right. Enough. We're from the Liberator.

Section Leader Grose:
[surprised] The Liberator? That's *Blake's* ship.

Avon:
He liked to think so.

Section Leader Grose:
And why did you come here?

Avon:
I wish I knew.

Del Tarrant:
[examining a map] So - this is where we're going.

Vila:
What? - Where are we going?

Del Tarrant:
To destroy a computer.

Vila:
Why?

Del Tarrant:
It knows too much about me.

Servalan:
Vila, you really must try and be a bit more trusting.

Vila:
[holding a gun on Servalan] Right. Now, then.

Servalan:
No, Vila; listen. Untie me, and then we can help each other.

Vila:
I never imagined you as the sort that would grovel for her life.

Servalan:
I am not groveling, you fool. I mean it.

Vila:
You *are* groveling.

Servalan:
I am *not*! - They've got Tarrant. Now, I can show you where they're holding him. At least, I can suggest where to start looking.

Vila:
Why should you want to?

Servalan:
Because they're holding two of my pilots there as well. Now, are you going to untie me, or not?

Vila:
Last time I saw Tarrant, I was looking down the end of his gun.

Servalan:
So, why are we on opposite sides?

Unit Commander Lector:
If you think of this mouse as a space captain - it's perfectly healthy, as you can see.

Servalan:
I'll take your word for it.

Unit Commander Lector:
We make duplicates...

[Lector copies the mouse in the input box and removes a cage containing a dead mouse from the output box. He opens the cage and holds up the dead mouse by the tail]

Section Leader Grose:
That's how they come out. Perfect copies, but not working. Colonel Astrid said they lacked a life-support system to carry them through the trauma of molecular integration. Well, I took it to mean they snuffed it before they got going properly.

Servalan:
Very well, Section Leader, you've convinced me. There are ways I could put this system to profitable use.

Section Leader Grose:
A great many ways, Madam President. More ways than you've begun to realize. But that isn't why I summoned you to Sardos.

[Grose nods at Lector and hands him a card. Lector moves to the machine, and inserts the card]

Servalan:
[levelly] Would you say that again?

Section Leader Grose:
I brought you here because you had something I hadn't. Something I needed. A pattern.

[Grose gestures at the screen, which now shows a Federation starship]

Servalan:
A Mark Two star-... That's my ship.

Section Leader Grose:
*My* ship. The flagship of a fleet that grows with every hour.

Doran:
[leering] Ahh, my problem was always women.

Vila:
[leering back] You like them?

Doran:
[coldly] No.

[Tarrant draws a gun, and levels it at Vila]

Del Tarrant:
[softly] One way or another, you're coming with me.

Vila:
If it comes down to that, Tarrant, there isn't really a lot of point, is there?

[singing repeatedly]

Convict, Convict, Convict:
It's great to be free / It's great to be free / It's great to be free from the law.

Convict, Convict, Convict:
It's great to be free / And we all agree / We're not going back any more.

Convict, Convict, Convict:
Any more / Any more / We're not going back any more.

Convict, Convict, Convict:
It's great to be free / And we all agree / We're not going back any more!

Orac:
If you cannot listen to the answers, why do you inconvenience me with questions?

[repeated line]

Moloch:
Give her to your men.

Del Tarrant:
I'm going down.

Avon:
How?

Del Tarrant:
Teleport.

Avon:
It will be interesting to see what that energy field does to a teleport beam.

Del Tarrant:
All right, we'll take the Liberator through again and I'll teleport from there.

Avon:
[laughing sardonically] Why don't you land it right on top of their monitoring station just in case they haven't got the message?

Del Tarrant:
Zen, was our entry monitored from the planet's surface?

Zen:
Affirmative.

Del Tarrant:
So they know we're here.

Avon:
Correction: they know we came, and they know that we went away again. One thing's for sure: next time they'll be ready for us.

Zen:
Information. The present course has no material end. Suggest transfer from linear progression to modular time shift.

Del Tarrant:
Suggestion rejected, Zen.

Cally:
Just a moment. How long would it take for us to get somewhere using maximum time shift?

Zen:
One hundred and fifty-nine Earth years.

Vila:
That's all I need.

Dayna:
And where will that bring us?

Zen:
Repeat: there is no material destination on present course. After one hundred and fifty-nine Earth years, time shift mechanism will cease to function.

Vila Restal:
So they'll be on their way to pick up Orac as fast as they can go, and that's fairly fast actually.

Roj Blake:
Yeah, not as fast as us.

Kerr Avon:
Ever the optimist.

Roj Blake:
Our only hope is if they have a supply on Aristo.

Vila Restal:
But if they don't?

Roj Blake:
They will have.

Vila Restal:
But if they don't?

Roj Blake:
They will have.

Kerr Avon:
There's no point in hiding it, our condition will deteriorate rapidly. If we don't get drug treatment very soon, we shall die.

Vila Restal:
Die? I can't do that.

Kerr Avon:
I'm afraid you can. It's the one talent we all share, even you.

Kerr Avon:
You and I are going down to the surface. [He thrusts a gun at him] Put that on.

Vila Restal:
Are you out of your mind - I'm finding it hard enough just to stay on my feet.

Kerr Avon:
Then crawl, but put that on!

Roj Blake:
[Avon shoots Travis' gun-arm] Good shot, Avon.

Kerr Avon:
I was aiming for his head.

Roj Blake:
It's exactly as though Ensor were speaking.

Orac:
Surely it is obvious even to the meanest intelligence that during my development I would naturally become endowed with aspects of my creator's personality.

Kerr Avon:
The more endearing aspects by the sound of it.

Orac:
Possibly. However similarities between myself and Ensor are entirely superficial. My mental capacity is infinitely greater.

Jenna Stannis:
Modest, isn't he?

Orac:
Modesty would be dishonesty.

Vila Restal:
What's wrong with being dishonest?

Orac:
Is that a question?

Vila Restal:
Yes.

Orac:
The question is futile. Were I to say that I am incapable of dishonesty how would you know if I was being dishonest or not?

Roj Blake:
A question for a question. Well, you're capable of evasion, anyway.

Vila Restal:
I think I've heard enough. I don't like him. Orac, be a good junk heap - shut up.

Vila Restal:
I don't believe it.

Jenna Stannis:
Zen, system status.

Zen:
All systems are functioning normally.

Vila Restal:
Yes, but Zen's only a machine.

Kerr Avon:
So is Orac. [He removes the activator and throws it across the flight deck]

Vila Restal:
That's all right, that's fixed Orac.

Roj Blake:
No, it hasn't.

Jenna Stannis:
What do you mean?

Roj Blake:
We've forgotten something. The prediction has still been made.

Jenna Stannis:
Blake! [the on-screen ship explodes]

[the shuttle will crash unless Avon can lighten it by seventy kilos]

Avon:
Not enough! Not nearly enough! Dammit, what weighs seventy kilos?

Orac:
Vila weighs seventy-three kilos, Avon.

Avon:
[discussing Egrorian] Said to have been a genius. Scientists are still trying to understand the Egrorian theory of parallel matter.

Soolin:
What happened to him?

Vila:
He disappeared, along with a few million credits from the Space Research Institute.

Soolin:
So he's a criminal.

Vila:
Aren't we all? Except he pulled off a big one. Which is why he's NOT sitting on Malodar.

Avon:
It is a good hideaway.

Vila:
Hideaway? Avon, if I got my hands on that kind of money, I'd have gone somewhere I could enjoy it. What is the point of having money if you have to exist on a hole like that!

Avon:
You are forgetting, there is a big difference between you and Egrorian: HE has a brain!

Vila:
Oh yeah? Well if you had one it might have occurred to you this could be a Federation trap!

Avon:
Well of course it's occurred to me. Why do you think I'm sending Tarrant?

Pinder:
[introducing himself to Avon] I'm pleased to make your acquaintance, ma'am.

Egrorian:
Surprisingly, you don't look like the ruthless desperados of legend. But you have, of course, killed a great many people.

Avon:
Only in the pursuit of liberty.

Egrorian:
"O Liberty! O Liberty! What crimes are committed in your name!"

Egrorian:
Natural leaders are rarely encumbered with intelligence. Greed, egotism, animal cunning, and viciousness are the important attributes. Qualities I detect in you in admirably full measure.

Avon:
I didn't come here to be... flattered.

Egrorian:
Now, then, Avon. What would you say if I offered you mastery of the galaxy?

Avon:
Oh, I would say thank you.

Vila:
For a whole galaxy? Oh, come on, Avon, show the man some gratitude.

Egrorian:
[laughing] Do you think my mind is addled?

Vila:
No, no, it's just we don't get offered galaxies every day of the week.

Vila:
You know I like to stick with you, Avon, where it's safe.

Avon:
All right. Vila, let's get to the airlock.

Vila:
Me?

Avon:
Well, who else? After all, you always say you feel safe with me.

[last lines]

Avon:
I couldn't find Vila.

Vila:
I'm glad about that.

Del Tarrant:
Pity about the tachyon funnel, though.

Avon:
We had no choice.

Vila:
It's a trip I won't forget, Avon.

Avon:
Well, as you always say, Vila: you know you are safe with *me*.

[Avon and Vila stare coldly at each other]

Egrorian:
Orac, what was the subject of my degree thesis at Belhangria University?

Orac:
Your paper E stroke nine stroke six-zero-four-four was on particle physics and dealt specifically with the properties of rissions. It was marked Beta plus, Egrorian.

Pinder:
[amused] Only Beta plus, Egrorian?

Egrorian:
Pinder, you're to be seen and not heard, remember?

Avon:
If Orac has a fault, it is a tendency to give more information than is requested.

Vila:
Or less information than requested.

Avon:
But seldom *just* the information that is requested.

Orac:
[continuing] That degree was subsequently rescinded for gross misconduct.

Egrorian:
[angry] That's enough, Orac!

Avon:
If you didn't want the answer, you shouldn't have asked the question.

[food supplies are running low]

Vila Restal:
Well, there's always rodents of one sort or another.

Del Tarrant:
I'm a growing lad, Vila. Rats are not the answer to my diet...

Gunn-Sar:
What's the tally of challenges?

Cato:
Twenty-five dead and one missing, sir.

Gunn-Sar:
Oh, come on, Cato. Don't quibble. Marquin fell backwards off the cliff.

Cato:
Yes, sir.

Gunn-Sar:
So he's dead. Like, you can't say someone's missing as such. Not when they've taken a dive into a bottomless gorge.

Cato:
No sir.

Gunn-Sar:
So, it's twenty-six dead.

Cato:
The council ruled it was twenty-five, sir, and one missing.

Gunn-Sar:
[unperturbed] Twenty-five men lie dead who tried to stand against me. And one, if he's not still falling, is no more than a greasy spot on the rocks, right?

Gunn-Sar:
Pick a weapon.

Avon:
I'll have a neutron blaster.

[Gunn Sar's advisor shakes his head]

Gunn-Sar:
No neutron blasters.

Avon:
In that case I'll have a glove.

Gunn-Sar:
A glove?

Avon:
A glove.

Gunn-Sar:
[to a Hommik] A glove.

Pella:
You must be very clever.

Vila Restal:
That's what I keep telling everyone. They even believed me in CF One.

Pella:
CF One?

Vila Restal:
A sort of academy, when I was a boy. They chose me as technical advisor for the escape.

Pella:
Escape? From an academy?

Vila Restal:
Perhaps academy was the wrong word.

Avon:
An ordinary domestic heliofusion rod. You haven't seen one, have you?

Del Tarrant:
Orac, in sixteen minutes this base will be destroyed and you with it. Is there anything logically more important than trying to stop that happening?

Orac:
Yes. The most logical course of action is to transport me to safety with all due urgency.

[Vila, Tarrant and Dayna have been captured and brought before an annoyed Gunn Sar]

Gunn-Sar:
What do you want?

Vila Restal:
A second chance?

[food supplies are running low]

Vila Restal:
Well, there's always rodents of one sort or another.

Del Tarrant:
I'm a growing lad, Vila. Rats are not the answer to my diet.

Gunn-Sar:
You killed two men.

Avon:
If I'd known we were keeping score, I would have brought more ammunition.

Avon:
[musing to himself at Pella] It's a problem, isn't it? You can have war between races, war between cultures, war between planets. But once you have war between the sexes, you eventually run out of people.

Slave:
It is beyond my humble capacity to offer an opinion, Master.

Avon:
[smiles broadly, turns] Oh, that's very good. You may turn out to be my kind of computer after all.

Vila Restal:
Did you see her?

Del Tarrant:
Who?

Vila Restal:
Pella, a young woman. She was here a moment ago.

Dayna Mellanby:
What are you talking about?

Del Tarrant:
Nobody just passed us.

Vila Restal:
We've got to get out of here, this whole place could - There's a nuclear compression charge! We've got to move...

Dayna Mellanby:
Vila!

Del Tarrant:
Calm down, Vila, take it easy.

Vila Restal:
It could go at any time!

Del Tarrant:
Let's just take one thing at a time. This young woman...

Vila Restal:
Have you ever seen a nuclear compression charge go off? Everything gets sucked in. It's like a mini black hole. Looks good! From a distance.

Del Tarrant:
Orac, in sixteen minutes this base will be destroyed and you with it. Is there anything logically more important than trying to stop that happening?

Orac:
Yes. The most logical course of action is to transport me to safety with all due urgency!

Vila Restal:
He's grovelling!

Del Tarrant:
We're not going anywhere, Orac, until you give me straight answers...

Vila Restal:
The lock is free. Nine and a half minutes. Just do your business with your tele-whatever. Have you ever seen a nuclear black hole go off? It's like a mini compression charge. Yes, I know I'm prattling. It's nerves. Nine and a quarter minutes.

[Avon and Dayna find a trooper with a knife in his back]

Kerr Avon:
That's a difficult way to commit suicide.

Dayna Mellanby:
Maybe he was cleaning it and it went off.

[first lines]

[In The Liberator's teleport section]

Del Tarrant:
[to Avon and Dayna:] Summary execution is the usual punishment for boarding a Federation ship without authority. What are you doing on my ship?

Kerr Avon:
Your ship?

[last lines]

Kerr Avon:
[to Dayna and Tarrant:] Welcome to the Liberator.

Vila Restal:
And you are, welcome to it.

Cally:
Oh? Given the choice would you rather be a load of spare parts down there?

Kerr Avon:
Or one spare part up here?

Kerr Avon:
[to Dayna and Tarrant:] That one's Cally. I'll introduce her more formally when she wakes up. This one is Vila. I should really introduce him now; he's at his best when he's unconscious.

Roj Blake:
[sits with Avon in the bridge pit] The others have decided to go with me.

Kerr Avon:
[smiles] I thought they would. Not very bright, but loyal.

Roj Blake:
That leaves you.

Kerr Avon:
I have thought about it.

Roj Blake:
And?

[silent pause]

Roj Blake:
Come on Avon, stop playing games. Are you going to go with me or not?

Kerr Avon:
[looks hurt] Well, of course. I am surprised you ever doubted it.

Roj Blake:
Thank you.

Kerr Avon:
Frankly, I don't see how you can do it without me. Your strongest enemies are going to be the defense computers. I am the only one qualified to tackle them.

Roj Blake:
Yes, that had occurred to me. You better start getting kitted up. Do you want to tell me why?

Kerr Avon:
I like the challenge.

Roj Blake:
You don't want to tell me why.

Kerr Avon:
If we succeed, if we destroy Control, the Federation will be at its weakest. It will be more vulnerable than it has been for centuries. The revolt in the Outer Worlds will grow. The resistance movements on Earth will launch an all-out attack to destroy the Federation. They will need unifying. They will need a leader. *You* will be the natural choice.

Roj Blake:
Possibly.

Kerr Avon:
Don't be modest, Blake. You are the only one that they would all follow. You would have no choice. You would have to stay on Earth and organize the revolt.

Roj Blake:
If there's no other way.

Kerr Avon:
There wouldn't be.

Roj Blake:
That still doesn't explain why you're backing me.

Kerr Avon:
With you running the campaign on Earth, somebody has to take charge... of all this.

Roj Blake:
[laughs] You want the Liberator.

Kerr Avon:
[almost laughs] Exactly. If we succeed, the destruction of Control gives us both what we want.

Roj Blake:
Could be you're planning just a little far ahead.

Kerr Avon:
[nods] Perhaps. But sooner or later, I will have my chance.

Roj Blake:
There's no hurry.

Olag Gan:
[of an abandoned building] What is this place?

Roj Blake:
A church.

Olag Gan:
A church?

Roj Blake:
Place of religious assembly.

Olag Gan:
Must be ancient.

Roj Blake:
The Federation had them all destroyed at the beginning of the New Calendar.

Vila:
When you get Zen working, ask him to prescribe something for a headache, will you? I've got this shocking pain right behind the eyes.

Avon:
Have you considered amputation?

Roj Blake:
Orac, why won't you give us the background to that prediction?

Orac:
Because that would invalidate the prediction.

Roj Blake:
And if we knew the future in detail we could change it, and so it wouldn't be the future.

Orac:
Correct. That is the paradox of prediction.

Roj Blake:
All right, Zen, standby to run it *again*, at *half* speed.

Zen:
Confirmed.

Avon:
Slow or fast, it will still look the same.

Roj Blake:
How long have you been there?

Avon:
I was here when you came in.

Roj Blake:
Why didn't you speak?

Avon:
I had nothing in particular to say. Besides, you looked as though you were planning something you didn't want the rest of us to know about.

Roj Blake:
Do you think you could forget your superiority complex for a moment and get on with it?

Avon:
All right. But first of all, let us examine the nature of prediction. The human mind is capable of seeing into the short-range future with reasonable accuracy. For example, imagine that you are standing on the edge of a cliff.

Roj Blake:
As long as you're not standing behind me.

Avon:
[pauses] There are a *number* of alternative futures: you could take a pace forward and plunge to your death; the cliff could crumble under your feet - with the same result; a gust of wind could carry you over...

Roj Blake:
All right, all right, yes. But the probability is that I would turn 'round and walk away again.

Avon:
Exactly. You have just made a prediction based on the known facts. A computer works on precisely the same principle.

Roj Blake:
But all you're saying is that prediction is not immutable fact.

Avon:
Right. If you hadn't gone near the cliff in the first place, you wouldn't have had to face any of the inherent dangers.

Roj Blake:
Uh, how long have you known?

Avon:
Oh, several hours.

Roj Blake:
And you just let the others go on worrying?

Avon:
Well, all they had to do was ask. Perhaps in future, they won't rely on you to provide all the answers.

Vila:
So why did they pick on *me*?

Avon:
I doubt if it was personal, Vila.

Vila:
It *felt* personal. It *always* feels personal when someone tries to *kill* me.

Avon:
[Quickly and impatiently:] Blake, what I'm doing is vitally concerned with our survival. Are you prepared to take responsibility for what happens if I delay?

Roj Blake:
Don't I always? Now just get down here!

Avon:
Anything you say.

Roj Blake:
And Avon, don't come crashing in; *gently* as you open the door.

Avon:
Blake's regard for our safety is inspiring, don't you think?

Vila:
If it ever comes to a showdown, my money's on Blake. Well, half of it. I'll put the other half on Avon.

Jenna Stannis:
[Laughs:] That's a safe bet. [Then seriously:] But if Avon is right, we'll probably all be dead anyway.

Vila:
Dead? Is that your idea of a safe bet?

[Avon has just saved Blake from being electrocuted, narrowly avoiding the same fate himself]

Roj Blake:
That is one I owe you.

Avon:
Don't worry. At the right time, I will remind you of it.

Roj Blake:
No one is to attempt to repair any equipment 'til the computers are back under our control.

Jenna Stannis:
What is it, Blake? What's going on?

Roj Blake:
Well, the computers seem to be making decisions for themselves. They're resisting all interference.

Jenna Stannis:
But that's not possible.

Roj Blake:
[Motions to Avon] Avon.

Avon:
It is if you think of the ship as a living entity with massive networks of electronics acting as a nervous system.

Jenna Stannis:
All linked into a central computer.

Roj Blake:
The brain.

Avon:
Carry the analogy a stage further: when a living creature is hurt - a cut or a wound - antibodies gather around the injury to repair it and to fight infection.

Vila:
You mean the computers are treating us like *germs*!

Avon:
[Smiles briefly at Blake:] Crude, but accurate.

Cally:
But antibodies kill infection. Why are we still alive?

Roj Blake:
We're not sure. There are dozens of ways the ship could destroy us: cut off the air supply, drop the temperature so we freeze to death -

Vila:
Stop putting ideas into its head!

Roj Blake:
[to Avon:] Actually, one touch of that cable would have done it. No, I don't think it wants to kill us.

Avon:
Well, not yet, anyway. It's saving us for something.

Vila:
Dinner?

Avon:
Now then, Orac. Are you going to function or are you not?

Orac:
All principal circuits are operating at full capacity and cannot receive new programs at this time.

Roj Blake:
Well, *clear* the circuits! This is priority!

Orac:
Circuit clearance and reprogramming will take precisely one hour and thirty-seven point nine seconds.

Roj Blake:
That could be just a little late.

Orac:
[Testily:] State your program requirements; they will be implemented when capacity is available.

Alta One/The System:
State the circumstance by which you came to be aboard Deep Space Vehicle Two.

Roj Blake:
We call it The Liberator. It was found abandoned and drifting in space. I was part of a crew that was put on board.

Alta One/The System:
State the astral location in which you found DSV II.

Roj Blake:
I don't know it. My nearest point of reference is a Federation prison planet called Cygnus Alpha.

Alta One/The System:
State any further information you have regarding DSV II.

Roj Blake:
We assume it had been in a space battle.

[Alta One's interface globe to The System starts to emit smoke]

Alta One/The System:
State any further information you have regarding - regarding - regarding -

Alta Two:
Circuitry disturbances are continuing. An outside influence has been analyzed.

Alta One:
We will resume the questioning when the disturbance has been rectified.

Roj Blake:
It's nice to know that computers can have their bad days, too.

Alta One:
The System is infallible!

[Avon and Jenna are sitting on the bench. They hear a noise at the door. Avon signals Jenna to stand by the window while he moves behind the door to attack whoever enters. Avon lets fly before he realizes it's Vila]

Vila:
[Doubling over] Oh!

Avon:
I'm... sorry, Vila.

Vila:
Been looking all over for you two.

Jenna Stannis:
How did you get here?

Vila:
I was just passing - thought I'd drop in and see you.

Avon:
Where are Gan and Cally?

Vila:
They're in a cell along the corridor.

Avon:
Well, what kept you?

Vila:
Magno-locks aren't *that* easy to open, even for *me*.

Avon:
Practice. Let's go.

Vila:
Just a minute. Where's Blake?

Jenna Stannis:
They took him away for questioning.

Vila:
Questioning?

Avon:
I don't think we should hang around. [exits cell]

Vila:
No, neither do I.

Jenna Stannis:
[Checking wound] What did you do to your head?

Vila:
One of the guards didn't like me.

Avon:
[From outside] Come on!

Zen:
Sensors register missile emission.

Vila:
Blake, there is no point in going on; we're finished. At this range we haven't a *chance*. She can't *miss* us.

[the ship explodes precisely as Orac predicted]

[the ship explodes precisely as Orac predicted - the *other* ship]

Roj Blake:
Vila, did you fire?

Vila:
No.

Roj Blake:
Then what happened?

[about Avon]

Dayna:
Beneath that cold exterior beats a heart of pure stone.

Avon:
No good deed goes unpunished.

Dayna:
Don't you ever get bored with being right?

Avon:
Just with the rest of you being wrong.

Dayna Mellanby:
Don't you get tired of always being right?

Kerr Avon:
Only with the rest of you always being wrong.

Kerr Avon:
'A man who trusts can never be betrayed, only mistaken.' Cally once said that was a saying among her people.

Dorian:
Who's Cally?

Kerr Avon:
Cally was murdered. So were most of her people.

Kerr Avon:
It's going to be no help to them if we walk into something hungry on the way back.

Dayna Mellanby:
I don't intend to walk into anything.

Kerr Avon:
Don't be stupid.

Dayna Mellanby:
Get out of my way, Avon. [calls over her shoulder as she moves off] I'll see you at the base!

Kerr Avon:
[watches her go] I doubt it.

Orac:
I naturally took the opportunity to study all the systems on the Liberator. A few, a very few were of minor interest. I would not, however, number the teleport system amongst these.

Dorian:
But you do know how it worked?

Orac:
[testily] Of course I know how it worked.

Dorian:
Then you will tell me. Now.

Orac:
There seems little point in wasting time on such an explanation since you would be incapable of understanding it.

Dorian:
[angry] Don't be insolent!

Orac:
A statement of fact cannot be insolent. Besides, insolence implies an emotional relationship which does not and could not exist between us.

Dorian:
Who designed it?

Avon:
His name was Ensor.

Dorian:
I should have known. He was never a gracious man. Orac reflects his personality.

Avon:
Orac was the culmination of his life's work.

[Avon pulls out Orac's key]

Avon:
He bequeathed it to an associate of mine... who bequeathed it to *me*.

Avon:
You must have been very young when you met Ensor.

Dorian:
Must I?

Avon:
He spent the last twenty years of his life in hiding.

Dorian:
Well, then I must have been very young.

Avon:
Did you do the modifications to the flight computer?

Dorian:
Yes, I created Slave.

Avon:
[draws gun] What about these?

Dorian:
Those as well.

Avon:
[gesturing to the environment] And all this?

Dorian:
I found the chambers and tunnels already here. I merely had them adapted to my particular needs.

Avon:
[laughs] What did you do in your spare time?

Vila Restal:
[to himself] No. Why should I? I don't have to justify my existence by going through the motions of trying to open a door which I know is impossible. I'm the expert. If I say it's impossible, then it's impossible. To hell with it. I wonder where they keep that wine!

Vila Restal:
[to himself] You know, Avon could be right about getting out of here. There's something very suspicious about a man who keeps his booze under lock and key.

Dayna:
Cheer up, Vila. You've got a lot of very bright associates too.

Vila:
Oh yeah? Name six.

Avon:
Trust is only dangerous when you have to rely on it.

[Avon is in a Federation prison cell with an interrogator]

Avon:
Your name wouldn't be Shrinker, by any chance, would it?

Shrinker:
You've heard of me?

Avon:
Ah. I knew if I held out, you would show up eventually.

Shrinker:
That says more for your nerve than your brain.

Avon:
[signalling the Liberator] You think so?

[the Federation's top torturer is now Avon's prisoner on the Liberator]

Shrinker:
Why? I don't even... I never saw him before. What have I ever done to him?

Dayna:
You killed someone he loved.

Vila:
And there aren't many of them about. Avon's not a very lovable man, in case you hadn't noticed.

Shrinker:
Why should I trust you?

Avon:
Because I've got the gun!

Avon:
Have you murdered your way to the wall of an underground room?

Servalan:
It's an old wall, Avon. It waits. I hope you don't die before you reach it.

Forres:
Some days are better than others, sir. They say that where I come from, sir.

Major Grenlee:
Loudly, I imagine, on the day you left.

Forres:
My mother cried when I left. Thought she'd never see me again.

Major Grenlee:
Cries easily your mother, does she?

Forres:
No, not really, sir. But I owed her money, you see.

[Grenlee looks askance]

Forres:
Oh, it's true, may I never leave this spot.

Major Grenlee:
That can be arranged, Section Leader.

Del Tarrant:
Is it done?

Avon:
Yes, but it isn't finished.

Vila:
Wonderful. Who's next on your list? Servalan?

Avon:
[inserts key] Orac.

Orac:
[annoyed] What is it *now*?

Avon:
Gracious as ever. Orac, I want you to interrogate the Federation Security computers and get me Servalan's present location.

Vila:
[astonished] I was *joking*, Avon!

Del Tarrant:
[into communicator bracelet] Stay awake.

Vila:
[V.O] Of course.

Del Tarrant:
And sober.

[Tarrant breaks communication link]

Vila:
[alone at teleport controls] That was uncalled for.

Vila:
[pours a drink] I only drink to be sociable.

Vila:
[raises glass] Cheers, Orac.

Dayna:
What do you suppose went wrong down there?

Vila:
[ref. to Shrinker's capture] Took longer to trap him than we expected, that's all.

Dayna:
No, I didn't mean the plan. I meant the whole thing. What happened to the rebellion? Why is the Earth still controlled by creatures like him?

Chesku:
[rehearsing]... a question of leadership. The rabble which sought to challenge the established order lacked our inspiration, our unity, our leadership. They are crushed. Earth and the Inner Planets are once again united. Gentlemen, I give you a toast. Our inspiration, our unity, our leader: President Servalan.

Chesku:
[to Sula] What do you think?

Sula:
I think it's crude and obvious.

Chesku:
[unperturbed] Thank you, Sula.

Sula:
You asked what I thought.

Chesku:
Stupid of me. I should know better by now.

Sula:
If it's any consolation to you, I'm sure Servalan will be delighted.

Sula:
[turns to look at Residence One] She is, after all, a tasteless megalomaniac.

Chesku:
I think it's rather fine.

Sula:
You would, Chesku.

Chesku:
Her presidential palace.

Sula:
A grotesque anachronism, like its owner. We could have built two cities for what it cost to reconstruct that absurdity.

Chesku:
You keep talking like that, you'll get us both killed.

Servalan:
Oh, Tarrant. I'm just the girl next door.

Del Tarrant:
If you were the girl next door, I'd move.

Servalan:
Where would you move, Tarrant?

Del Tarrant:
Next door?

Kerr Avon:
Orac, teleport.

Orac:
Teleport? I am not programmed. Three squared to the principal.

Dayna Mellanby:
Oh, no.

Orac:
I love you.

Vila Restal:
Orac!

Orac:
My emotions are deeper than the seas of space. One times one is only possible in the ultra-dimensional.

Kerr Avon:
Turn Orac off.

Orac:
[breathily] I love you.

Kerr Avon:
[offended] *Off*!

Orac:
We will be lovers for a little while, or maybe for a long while, who knows?

Soolin:
I do.

[Soolin pulls Orac's key]

Vila Restal:
What a thought.

[first lines] [several minutes into the episode]

Kerr Avon:
Cally.

Cally:
What is it?

Kerr Avon:
Well, it looks like a door. And it's closed.

Kerr Avon:
Regret is a part of being alive. But keep it a small part.

Cally:
As you do?

Kerr Avon:
[smiles] Demonstrably.

Kerr Avon:
Shut up, Tarrant.

Del Tarrant:
Did you say something to me?

Kerr Avon:
I said, "Shut up." I apologize for not realizing you are deaf.

Del Tarrant:
[approaches Avon] There's something else you don't realize. I don't take any orders from you.

Kerr Avon:
Well, now that's a great pity, considering that your own ideas are so limited.

Del Tarrant:
Don't try and bluff your way with me, Avon. I know what's been needling you right from the start. With Blake gone, you thought you'd got it made, didn't you? Thought you'd got control of this ship and a crew of three who'd say, "Yes, Avon. Whatever you want, Avon." But you reckoned without me.

Kerr Avon:
That wouldn't be too difficult.

Del Tarrant:
Oh, really? I don't think so. When you found me on the Liberator, it was quite a blow. And every time you look at me, it hits you harder, doesn't it? I'm faster than you and I'm sharper. As far as it goes, I've made a success of my life. But you? The only big thing you ever tried to do you failed at. The greatest computer swindle of all time... but you couldn't quite pull it off, could you? If it hadn't been for Blake, you'd be rotting on Cygnus Alpha right now. No, you failed, Avon. But I win. Not just at games, at life.

Kerr Avon:
[turning away] You also talk too much.

Del Tarrant:
Be thankful I'm restricting myself to talk.

Kerr Avon:
[turning back] Well now, that's fascinating. You mean you can do something else?

Dayna Mellanby:
[stepping between them] Oh, stop this. What are you doing? Warming up to cutting each other's throats?

Del Tarrant:
[turns away] Avon. Do you want to forget I said all that?

Kerr Avon:
It wasn't particularly memorable.

Dayna Mellanby:
We need sleep. All of us. Even you need sleep, Tarrant.

Del Tarrant:
And tomorrow, everything will look different?

Kerr Avon:
If it does, you can assume you're on the wrong ship.

[a montage of images of The Liberator in space at various angles]

Dayna Mellanby:
[singing] I left my world to wander in / This endless midnight sky / For space is just a starry night / Where no suns ever rise.

Vila Restal:
My head is killing me.

Del Tarrant:
You should learn self defense.

Cally:
[about Blake and Vila] They're taking too long.

Avon:
That's the trouble with heroics. They seldom run to schedule.

Space Commander Travis:
These are your orders?

Servalan:
Destroy Blake.

Space Commander Travis:
Depend on it.

Secretary Rontane:
Which is why the President has asked me to come here personally; to express his own very grave concern over this matter. The destruction of the communications center has far-reaching political consequences. Controllers from some of the Outer Planets, whose loyalty to the Federation is, uh, delicately balanced, have been openly critical of the Administration's defense system. There are even one or two radical voices that speak of withdrawal from the Federation.

Senator Bercol:
My department has done all in its power to suppress information about Blake and his actions - there is a total blackout on all reports concerning him - but still the stories get out. They spread by word of mouth, by whispers, by rumour; each time the story is told it is elaborated upon. Any damage to the Federation is attributed to Blake. The smallest incident is exaggerated out of all proportion until it becomes a major event. Blake is becoming a legend. His name is a rallying call for malcontents of all persuasions. He must be stopped.

Supreme Commander Servalan:
Gentlemen: I share the President's grave concern. And I am aware of the danger should Blake become a legend. But let us keep this matter in its correct perspective. It is true that Blake has command of a superb space vehicle, but he is just a man, backed by a handful of criminals, and that is all. He is not invulnerable, nor is he superhuman. He is just a man, who has been extremely lucky to evade capture - so far.

Jenna Stannis:
[into comm] Hold on, just checking. [to Vila] Are you ready?

Vila Restal:
Tell him I've just worked out a completely new strategy. It's called running away.

Vila Restal:
There isn't a lock I can't open - if I'm scared enough.

Kerr Avon:
[Jenna is at the teleport controls] It had better be right. A fraction out and you could put us down in the middle of the security barracks.

Jenna Stannis:
Don't tempt me.

Jenna Stannis:
[lays device on control panel] So you got it.

Roj Blake:
It was close though.

Kerr Avon:
Too close. Another few seconds we'd have all been blown up.

Vila Restal:
Well, it wasn't my fault.

Kerr Avon:
Well, whose fault was it? I thought you were supposed to guard the corridor.

Vila Restal:
You were supposed to disconnect that thing, not rely on Gan to tear it loose with his teeth.

Jenna Stannis:
All right, all right, now calm down.

[first lines]

Largo:
[examining a pouch of gems stolen by Bek] You did well.

Bek:
The owner didn't think so.

Largo:
Did you kill him?

Bek:
Were we supposed to?

Largo:
It's tidier.

Bek:
Well, it's easy to be tidy from where you sit, Largo.

Largo:
Don't get clever, dream head.

Olag Gan:
I don't know how they spotted me.

Bek:
[to Hanna] "I don't know how they spotted me."

Hanna:
[giggles]

Kerr Avon:
[crouches, to Hanna] Something amuses you?

Bek:
[to Avon] You were using him as a lookout? I mean, he'd really blend into the background, wouldn't he? What did you do, put up a sign?

Roj Blake:
Any luck?

Olag Gan:
Can't find Orac. Even tried calling his name.

Kerr Avon:
Oh, I'm sorry I missed that. It's the kind of natural stupidity no amount of training could ever hope to match.

Roj Blake:
You found Orac?

Kerr Avon:
No, but then I never really expected to. It is one of Vila's more elaborate practical jokes.

Roj Blake:
We chose the wrong approach, that's all.

Olag Gan:
Is that all? I thought maybe we'd chosen the wrong people to get involved with.

Kerr Avon:
"*We* chose the wrong approach"?

Roj Blake:
*I* chose the wrong approach. Does it matter?

Kerr Avon:
Yes, it does.

Roj Blake:
All right, Avon. You were right and I was wrong. You said persuasion wouldn't work and it didn't. So now we use force.

Kerr Avon:
Force? Yes, of course. Law makers, law breakers, let us fight them all. Why not?

Kerr Avon:
When the Federation introduced the death penalty for possession, the President described Shadow as "the greatest single threat to the welfare of mankind."

Roj Blake:
Don't tell me you agree with Gan.

Kerr Avon:
No, no, no. I'm just... interested. It seems to me that we have identified the source of that threat rather easily.

Roj Blake:
So why haven't they?

Kerr Avon:
Exactly.

Roj Blake:
Maybe we're about to find out.

Kerr Avon:
Maybe we already know.

[regarding the heat of the planet to which they've teleported]

Jenna Stannis:
It's enough to fry your eyeballs.

Kerr Avon:
Daintily put.

Jenna Stannis:
Must be the company I keep.

[after dispatching two slow, heat-suited guards, handily]

Kerr Avon:
Next, please.

Vila Restal:
Where are all the good guys?

Roj Blake:
You could be looking at them.

Kerr Avon:
What a very depressing thought.

Cally:
[using communications] Vila, this is Cally. Come in please. Vila!

Vila Restal:
[V.O., dreamily] What do you want, Cally?

Cally:
I want you back here. Get ready to teleport.

Vila Restal:
Wasting your time, Cally. I'm not wearing the bracelet. I'm not going to be snatched away in the middle of... in the middle of anything. Sightseeing. And you should see some of the sights I'm seeing. No. Perhaps you shouldn't.

Cally:
[firmly] Where is Orac?

Vila Restal:
Promised not to tell. I never break a promise.

Cally:
Oh yes, you do!

Vila Restal:
Almost never. Orac's all right. He can't run away.

Cally:
Oh, you fool, Vila!

Vila Restal:
Stop worrying, Cally. I'll be back soon. Tell you what, I'll bring you back a present. What would you like, Cally? Name it and it's yours.

Cally:
A necklace, Vila, made from your teeth!

Jenna Stannis:
I think we've outstayed our welcome.

Roj Blake:
[into bracelet] All right, Cally. We're ready to come across.

[Gan and Avon join Blake and Jenna in a cluster for teleportation. Avon still holds a gun on Bek and Hanna]

Bek:
We'll come with you.

Roj Blake:
[pause] I'm sorry.

Bek:
"Sorry"? Polite but inadequate.

Bek:
[raises his gun] We can't stay here, so you're not going to leave without us.

[Bek and Hanna are stunned as Blake, Avon, Jenna, and Gan are teleported away]

Hanna:
I think they went without us.

Bek:
There's gratitude for you.

Hanna:
"Gratitude"! You point a gun at them and expect gratitude?

Hanna:
[indicates Largo on the floor] Maybe we could use him as a hostage?

Bek:
Him? After his foul-up you won't get a drink of water in exchange for him.

[Bek aims gun at Largo]

Roj Blake:
[rematerializes with two extra bracelets] I changed my mind.

Bek:
Why?

Hanna:
Do we care?

Roj Blake:
[hands them the bracelets] Put these on.

Bek:
What's in it for you?

Roj Blake:
You can help me with one of my crew. His name's Vila and he's suffering from a bad attack of alcoholic remorse.

Roj Blake:
[into bracelet] All right, Cally.

Roj Blake:
[to Bek and Hanna] He wants to make a necklace of his teeth.

[they are teleported away]

Zen:
The one called Orac is not concerned for the safety of The Liberator.

[after reports of failing to find Orac, as hidden by Vila who is incapacitated by excessive alcohol consumption]

Roj Blake:
Talking of Vila, how long before he comes round?

Bek:
Oh, several hours. And he won't feel much like laughing when he does.

Roj Blake:
[coldly] Oh, I'll guarantee that.

Sub-Commander Raiker:
[to Blake] What have we here? Not a troublemaker, I hope?

Blake:
I didn't hear an order.

Sub-Commander Raiker:
You didn't hear an order, sir... [shouts] Say it!

Blake:
I didn't hear an order... sir.

Sub-Commander Raiker:
That's better. What's your name?

Blake:
Blake.

Sub-Commander Raiker:
So you're Blake. Well, made quite a name for yourself a few years back. Quite the celebrity. Something of a comedown for a leader of men, isn't it? Molesting kids?

Blake:
The charges were false.

Sub-Commander Raiker:
Oh, yes, of course. Well, let me tell you something, Blake, as far as I am concerned, you are just another piece of cargo. Remember that and you might just survive the journey. Do you understand?

Blake:
I understand... sir.

Sub-Commander Raiker:
[to Blake] What have we here? Not a troublemaker, I hope?

Roj Blake:
I didn't hear an order.

Sub-Commander Raiker:
You didn't hear an order, sir... [screaming] *SAY IT!*

Roj Blake:
I didn't hear an order... sir.

Sub-Commander Raiker:
That's better. What's your name?

Roj Blake:
Blake.

Sub-Commander Raiker:
So you're Blake. Well, made quite a name for yourself a few years back. Quite the celebrity. Something of a comedown for a leader of men, isn't it? Molesting kids?

Roj Blake:
The charges were false.

Sub-Commander Raiker:
Oh, yes, of course. Well, let me tell you something, Blake, as far as I am concerned, you are just another piece of cargo. Remember that and you might just survive the journey. Do you understand?

Roj Blake:
I understand... sir.

[Blake's first encounter with Avon]

Vila:
Blake - Kerr Avon. When it comes to computers, he's the number two man in all the Federated worlds.

Nova:
Who's number one?

Vila:
The guy who caught him.

[two guards turn the corner; Gan grabs them by their gun arms]

Olag Gan:
Grab the guns!

[Vila and a prisoner each grab a gun as two more guards turn the corner]

Olag Gan:
[to two new guards] Stay right there, or we'll kill them. Drop your guns!

[Vila promptly throws down his gun to everyone's surprise]

Dainer:
[opportunistically shoots the armed prisoner, then covers Gan] [to Gan] Move, and *you're* dead!

Olag Gan:
[releases the first two guards and, when prompted, stands in surrender] [hissing] Vila!

Vila:
I got confused.

Vila:
This is stupid, Avon!

Avon:
When did that ever stop us?

[closing lines]

Avon:
Stand by to fire.

Vila:
Avon, this is stupid!

Avon:
When did that ever stop us? Fire!

Supreme Commander Servalan:
Yes, Durkim, what is it?

Durkim:
[indicating the trooper searching him] I find *that* just a little distracting, Supreme Commander.

Blake:
I meant what I said on Goth, Avon. We are not going to use Star One to rule the Federation, we are going to destroy it.

Avon:
I never doubted that. I never doubted your fanaticism. As far as I am concerned you can destroy whatever you like. You can stir up a thousand revolutions, you can wade in blood up to your armpits. Oh, and you can lead the rabble to victory, whatever that might mean. Just so long as there is an end to it. When Star One is gone it is finished, Blake. And I want it finished. I want it over and done with. I want to be free.

Cally:
But you are free now, Avon.

Avon:
[glaring at Blake] I want to be free of *him*.

Blake:
I never realized. You really do hate me, don't you?

Supreme Commander Servalan:
Obviously, someone is trying to destroy the Federation, now perhaps it's you.

Durkim:
Why would I want to do that?

Supreme Commander Servalan:
'Why?' is always the most difficult question. At the moment I am more concerned with 'How?'.

Supreme Commander Servalan:
I will not be President of a ruined empire!

[the Liberator has entered orbit around Star One]

Blake:
Maximum scan, Cally. Look for anything unusual or out of place, sudden temperature variation, anything. They're bound to have left some clue as to where they put that installation.

[pause]

Blake:
A door would be nice if you could manage it.

Cally:
[glaring at Blake] I'll do my best.

Blake:
Preferably one marked 'Entrance'.

Cally:
[ignoring Blake] Ready on the scan, Jenna.

Avon:
I have been doing some calculations, if this is Star One...

Blake:
*If* it is?

Avon:
First catch your computer, but all right it probably is, and that being the case the choice of location is fascinating.

Blake:
I'm glad you're enjoying it.

Avon:
The nearest large galaxy to our own is Andromeda.

Blake:
So?

Avon:
So, this is the nearest point to Andromeda. If anyone could cross intergalactic space in less than a lifetime we are now precisely upon the route that they would take.

Blake:
What are you trying to say, Avon?

Avon:
I directed the detectors toward the Andromeda galaxy. There are thousands of satellite generators out there, *beyond* Star One.

Blake:
[shocked] What?

Avon:
Even with the Federation's resources it must have taken them years.

Blake:
[checking the readout] That must be the biggest antimatter minefield ever put together!

Vila:
Minefield, what minefield?

Avon:
Perhaps the intergalactic drive has been developed. The question is, by whom?

Blake:
A defense zone to keep mankind in, or something else out.

Vila:
[packing up explosive charges] I don't like explosives, very crude. Difficult to reason with a bomb.

Cally:
Blake?

[Vila, startled by Cally's voice, almost drops the explosive]

Avon:
[taking device from Vila] They won't explode until they are primed.

Vila:
And if it was faulty? Bit late to complain to the manufacturer!

[outside the entrance to the base]

Blake:
One door.

Cally:
As requested.

Blake:
Well done, Cally.

Avon:
It isn't marked 'Entrance'.

Cally:
Nobody's perfect.

Orac:
[about the minefield] A cursory examination of the relevant Star One systems indicates that this defense zone is one of a number of such zones located at strategic points on the rim of that section of the galaxy colonized by mankind.

Vila:
Then they are expecting an invasion? A hoard of hairy aliens.

Orac:
There is no logical reason why aliens should be hairy.

Vila:
There's no logical reason why people should be hairy!

[examining a dead alien]

Lurena:
What are they?

Avon:
Unfriendly. Which is fortunate, really. They'd be difficult to love.

[Stot thinks that Blake is Travis]

Stot:
May I ask you an impertinent question?

Blake:
If you don't mind an impertinent answer.

Stot:
I have taken on the shape of your species. I use your words, and yet I cannot understand you. The woman Lurena and the other technicians that were here, these I could understand. But you. Why have you betrayed your own kind? Why have you given us the means to eradicate your species?

Blake:
[confused] Eradicate humanity?

Stot:
Virtually.

Blake:
Well maybe I just don't like crowds.

Travis:
How much longer?

Parton:
Each of these keys will close down one sector of the defense zone. When I've connected this last one, you can begin.

Travis:
My one regret is that they'll never know who really killed them.

[as Liberator steers to engage the alien fleet, a wounded Blake appears on the flight deck]

Avon:
Why didn't you stay in the medical unit? Couldn't you bring yourself to trust me just this once?

Blake:
I thought I might be able to help.

Avon:
In that condition?

Blake:
All right I'll go back.

Avon:
Can you manage, alone?

Blake:
Yes. Avon, for what it is worth, I have always trusted you, from the very beginning.

[Avon has caught Travis on Star One]

Avon:
Well, now. Travis. Fancy meeting you here.

Travis:
Put the gun down, Avon, it's too late to stop it now.

Avon:
Convince me.

Travis:
Be polite and I may let you live.

Avon:
Be informative and I may let you die. You'll want that after I've shot off an arm and a leg or two.

Travis:
I thought you were supposed to be the one with brains.

Avon:
Brains but no heart. Now talk or scream, Travis, the choice is yours.

Stot:
[about Cally] Who is this woman?

Blake:
She is my mother.

Orac:
My preliminary examination of the defense zone indicates that it is made up of a network of satellite generators.

Vila:
We could have told you that.

Orac:
Each of which performs a dual function: namely, to indicate the approach of an intruder and then to destroy that intruder by a powerful anti-matter implosion.

Jenna:
So it's a combined alarm system and minefield.

Orac:
Correct. If I may continue.

Vila:
He always makes me feel as if I should be taking notes.

Orac:
[annoyed] *If* I may continue.

Avon:
Blake is an idealist, Jenna. He cannot afford to think.

[first lines]

Nova Queen Pilot:
Keldan Control, Keldan Control, this is Nova Queen on primary approach zero-four-zero. Request orbital entry clearance.

[com-beep]

Keldon Traffic Controller:
Nova Queen, Nova Queen, this is Keldan Control. Maintain zero-four-zero. Orbital entry is clear.

[com-beep]

Nova Queen Pilot:
Keldan Control, this is Nova Queen. I have an unidentified trace on zero-four-zero.

[com-beep]

Keldon Traffic Controller:
Nova Queen, this is Keldan Control. Maintain zero-four-zero and switch to Computer Flight Coordination.

[com-beep]

Nova Queen Pilot:
Switching to CFC, maintaining zero-four-zero.

[com-beep]

Nova Queen Pilot:
[after a pause] That ship is still coming at us.

[com-beep]

Keldon Traffic Controller:
Nova Queen, this is Keldan Control. The ship is an unmanned ore carrier on Computer Flight Coordination.

[com-beep]

Nova Queen Pilot:
I hope you're sure about that, Keldan. It's still on zero-four-zero.

[com-beep]

Keldon Traffic Controller:
Nova Queen, computer control is confirmed. No problem.

[com-beep]

Nova Queen Pilot:
You know that and I know that, but does the computer know that?

[com-beep]

Keldon Traffic Controller:
It'll switch vectors any time now. Relax.

[com-beep]

Nova Queen Pilot:
I'll relax when it gets that ship off zero-four-zero.

[com-beep]

Keldon Traffic Controller:
It will.

[com-beep]

Nova Queen Pilot:
Keldan Control, I have four thousand passengers on this ship and that ore carrier is still on zero-four-zero!

[com-beep]

Keldon Traffic Controller:
[calmly] Computer Flight Coordination doesn't make errors.

[com-beep]

Nova Queen Pilot:
To hell with that! *Do* something, Keldan; that thing is coming straight at us!

[com-beep]

Nova Queen Pilot:
*Keldan Control*!

[com-beep]

Keldon Traffic Controller:
[with sudden urgency] Nova Queen! Switch to manual control! Engage emergency boosters and *abort* zero-four-zero! Confirm, please!

[com-beep]

Nova Queen Pilot:
I can see it! My God, it's too late!

Keldon Traffic Controller:
Nova Queen, Nova Queen, this is Keldan Control, do you copy?

[com-beep]

Keldon Traffic Controller:
Nova Queen, Nova Queen, come in please!

[com-beep]

[Servalan has just reviewed the recording of the destruction of the Nova Queen]

Supreme Commander Servalan:
Unfortunate.

Durkim:
You do have a way with words, Supreme Commander.

[Servalan shoots Durkim a look]

Durkim:
I'm sorry, that was unnecessary.

Stot:
*You* are Travis?

Travis:
*I* am Travis.

Stot:
Then who is this?

Travis:
His name is Blake. Hm. His name... *was* Blake.

Supreme Commander Servalan:
There's no doubt in your mind that he was telling the truth?

Interrogator:
[V.O] None, Supreme Commander. We didn't rush him. He was telling the truth all right.

Supreme Commander Servalan:
Very well. Interrogate the rest of his team just to make sure. And try not to killl *them*!

[after watching a tape of three Federation ships exploding]

Avon:
Well, Orac, what do you think?

Orac:
I think you have brought back a most fascinating recording.

Avon:
We are looking for conclusions, not critical acclaim.

Avon:
There are times when even the most cynical must trust in luck!

Dayna Mellanby:
Sometimes, Vila, you can be quite disgusting.

Vila Restal:
[drunkenly] Not so, my lovely. I can be disgusting all the time. It's easy.

[Vila stumbles in carrying a wine carafe]

Vila Restal:
[drunkenly] Hello there! Anyone for a party? I'm afraid you'll have to bring your own booze 'cause I've already drunk my own. Anyone got any booze? Huh? And how about my... cold, calculating Soolin? I'd like to see you unbend...

[Soolin moves to a another station]

Vila Restal:
...just a little before we're all... all...

Dayna Mellanby:
Sometimes, Vila, you can be quite disgusting.

Vila Restal:
Not so, my lovely. I can be disgusting all the time. It's easy. Easy as colliding with an asteroid, eh, Avon? You know, they say all your life passes in front of you when you're about to, about to... y'know. It's what's happening to me now. All my past life.

Avon:
That's one misfortune we don't have to share.

Vila Restal:
Fourteen I was when I was first sent to a penal colony. Ship was hit in the main drive by a meteoroid. Bang! Y'know what they did to repair it? Activated the force wall and generated an atmosphere inside the force wall so the repair team could work in a vacuum without spacesuits, 'cause it wasn't a vacuum any more if you see what I mean. Very clever, those old prison hulk skippers.

Vila Restal:
[drunkenly] Hurray!

Soolin:
Out of the mouths of drunks.

Vila Restal:
[sober] Drunk? Who's drunk?

Dayna Mellanby:
You are.

Vila Restal:
[indicating wine carafe] Show me how to get drunk on plain water and I won't waste time.

Dayna Mellanby:
Well, then why pretend?

Vila Restal:
Because, my lovely Dayna, and Soolin, no one ever tells someone who's drunk to volunteer.

Soolin, Dayna Mellanby:
[laugh]

Vila Restal:
I don't like to work in main drive chambers! Especially main drive chambers that are separated from space by one of Slave's force walls.

Del Tarrant:
[into communicator] We're in the main drive chamber. It's gonna take about an hour.

Soolin:
[on communicator] Right. We'll stand watch.

Del Tarrant:
See if you can sober up Vila.

Soolin:
We'll try.

Atlan:
[indicating TD 15-capable drive prototype] So, how soon can this be fitted to our space choppers?

Dr. Plaxton:
It can't.

Atlan:
Why not?

Dr. Plaxton:
Because this is the only one.

Atlan:
So build more! We've provided you with enough raw material to build five hundred!

Dr. Plaxton:
[indignant] I am a scientist, not a production engineer! And the other reason why this can't be fitted to your space choppers is, quite simply, it *won't* fit.

Atlan:
Why not?

Dr. Plaxton:
[patiently] Because the only way to increase the power was to increase the size of the photon generator chambers. This drive was intended to be installed in a real spacecraft, not in toys driven by a bunch of murderous psychopaths.

Atlan:
Our agreement...

Dr. Plaxton:
*Our agreement* was that you provide me with the resources to continue with my work! Well, that's exactly what I have done.

[Atlan grabs the back of Dr. Plaxton's neck and holds a gun to her head]

Atlan:
You will start modification work on the spacedrive *now*, Doctor Plaxton. If you refuse, I will tell the Space Rats that you are depriving them of speed, and I will let them deal with you... in their own fashion.

[last lines]

[Scorpio had just made a screamingly fast last-second escape from a Federation patrol]

Avon:
Good enough!

Avon:
[to Vila] At least now we can outrun the opposition. That should make you happy.

Dayna Mellanby:
What about Doctor Plaxton?

Avon:
Who?

Del Tarrant:
How do we approve of something we don't know about?

Kerr Avon:
You could try trusting me.

[They glare at each other for a moment]

Del Tarrant:
All right, Avon, we'll try trusting you. Just don't expect us to make a habit of it.

Kerr Avon:
I don't.

Servalan:
Jarvik? Of course. Jarvik. Jarvik, the construction worker. What was it now? "Any fool could take the Liberator with three pursuit ships." Well, the Liberator will soon be diffusing itself throughout the galaxy as so many billion split particles. So, regrettably, we shall never know. Thanks to the folly of your president, who with her aides and her technical advisors, her battle computers and her captains, extravagantly disposed herself to use *four* pursuit ships. And yet any fool could have done it with three. Perhaps this particular fool will tell her how.

[pause]

Servalan:
Well? Have you nothing to say to Servalan?

Jarvik:
Woman, you are beautiful.

[Jarvik grabs Servalan and kisses her]

Jarvik:
I shall expect both courage and enterprise.

Shad:
You will have both, sir.

Servalan:
Such old-fashioned concepts, Jarvik. Are they really necessary?

Jarvik:
With machines, no. With men, yes.

Servalan:
So tell me, Zen, how does one operate this craft?

Zen:
One manipulates the controls, and the craft functions accordingly.

Servalan:
Yes, and I've heard of your impudence.

Del Tarrant:
I've been looking all over for you.

Kerr Avon:
Well, now you found me.

Del Tarrant:
Didn't you hear me calling?

Kerr Avon:
I imagine the whole planet heard you.

Kerr Avon:
[holding the rock-like Sopron] This happens to be the most sophisticated life form that it has ever been my good fortune to come across. Present company NOT excepted.

Servalan:
[to a guard, about Dayna] Take her away somewhere, and kill her.

Dayna:
He can try. Or he can kill me here. Nobody takes me anywhere.

Jarvik:
[talking to Servalan about computer predictions] Madam, in ancient times they read the future from the torn out guts of small animals. Two millennia later it was in the remnant leaves of a herb in a drinking cup. Ask me, and I'd say that civilization has learnt a lot to little positive advantage.

[On screen is a primitive landing module]

Servalan:
What is that?

Zen:
Detector scan reveal it to be a high technology space cruiser.

[Jarvik laughs]

Zen:
Hardened self-healing Herculanium hull and superstructure, advanced Time Distort facility, speed range to Standard by twelve point two zero three.

[Jarvik laughs harder]

Zen:
Computer assessment of weapons reveals the craft to have an assault capacity marginally greater than that of the Liberator.

[Jarvik laughs harder]

Servalan:
[shocked] *Greater*?

[Jarvik looks at Servalan, still laughing at the ludicrous incongruity]

Gola:
If you say that once more, your head is forfeit!

Vila:
Don't leave me here! At least leave me a torch. I don't like the dark. I like to see what I'm scared of.

[Blake has been invited to a rebel meeting several years after his brainwashing]

Bran Foster:
Now, I want you to listen to what I have to tell you. After that you can do whatever you like.

Roj Blake:
All right. Now what do you know about my family?

Bran Foster:
Well, I'll come to that. There are other things you should know first.

Roj Blake:
Forget the other things. Just what do you know?

Bran Foster:
They're dead. Your brother and sister are both dead. I'm sorry, I didn't intend you to hear it like that. They were executed four years ago just after your trial.

Roj Blake:
[disbelievingly] Executed? No, that's not true. I hear from them regularly. I had a vistape only a month ago.

Bran Foster:
Those tapes are fakes. Part of the treatment to keep your memory suppressed. Now, this isn't going to be easy for you, but I'm going to have to tell you things about yourself of which you have no memory. Will you hear me out?

Roj Blake:
Go on.

Bran Foster:
Four years ago, there was a good deal of discontent with the Administration. There were many activist groups. But the only one that really meant anything was led by Roj Blake. You and I worked together. We were outlawed and hunted. But we had supporters and we were making progress. Then someone betrayed us, I still don't know who. You were captured. So were most of our followers. They could have killed you. But that would have given the Cause a martyr. So instead they put you into intensive therapy. They erased areas of your mind, they implanted new ideas. They literally took your mind to pieces and rebuilt it. And when they'd finished, they put you up and you confessed. You said you'd been "misguided." You appealed to everyone to support the Administration, hound up the traitors. Oh, they, they did a good job on you. You were very convincing. And then they took you back and erased even that.

Roj Blake:
What happened to the others?

Bran Foster:
In their benevolence, the Federation allowed them to emigrate to the Outer Worlds. Like your family, they were executed on arrival.

[Blake is under treatment after witnessing a massacre]

Dr. Havant:
Reality is a dangerous concept. Each one of us interprets it in a slightly different way. Every sense impression is filtered by the brain and altered, sometimes just a little, sometimes completely, to fit our individual model of what the world is about. If that model should be challenged...

Blake:
[chanting over and over to himself] I am *not* insane. I am *not* insane...

Dr. Havant:
No. You must put that thought completely out of your mind. You've had a shock.

Blake:
[stops chanting] Yes.

Dr. Havant:
We must work together to uncover what that shock was. I'm going to prescribe a mild sedative ...

Blake:
No drugs!

Dr. Havant:
A mild sedative to help you to sleep. You must rest.

Blake:
No! No drugs.

Dr. Havant:
All right, no drugs. Now try not to think an more. Don't worry, we'll get it sorted out.

[about Blake]

Dr. Havant:
Can't he be eliminated?

Alta Morag:
No, he's a symbol of opposition to the Administration.

Dr. Havant:
So?

Ven Glynd:
We've done cross-sectional psych readings, which show that a high percentage of people, particularly the younger ones, believe that Blake's trial was a showpiece, that his statements were rigged.

Alta Morag:
His death could be used by the dissidents. They need a hero. Alive or dead, Blake could be it.

Dr. Havant:
Difficult. I suppose my department could infect him, some rapidly terminal disease. Would his natural death help?

Ven Glynd:
I don't think so.

Alta Morag:
What we need is something to discredit him. If he could be deported to Cygnus Alpha.... Doctor, am I right in thinking you can create experiences, implant them into a subject, who will then believe that they really happened?

Dr. Havant:
Of course. In fact, creating an illusion of reality is quite simple.

Alta Morag:
Good. Then I think we can totally destroy Blake's credibility and get him sentenced.

Vila:
[about Jenna] She's a big name. It's an honor to be locked up with her.

Vila:
Easy! I hate personal violence, especially when I'm the person.

[last lines]

[as the prison ship leaves Earth]

Guard:
Take a long look. That's the last you'll ever see of it.

Roj Blake:
No, I'm coming back.

Jenna Stannis:
What's your story?

Roj Blake:
I'm innocent. Of what I was charged with, anyway.

Vila Restal:
We have something in common then: we're all victims of a miscarriage of justice.

Roj Blake:
[protesting] But it's true!

Jenna Stannis:
Of course it is.

Roj Blake:
[gets the message] What about the others?

Vila Restal:
Oh, a very antisocial bunch: murderers, liars, cheats...

Vila Restal:
[pauses, looks at Jenna]... smugglers...

Jenna Stannis:
Thieves.

Vila Restal:
...and they're the *nice* people!

[last lines]

Avon:
I'll tell you a fact of life, Blake. Change is inevitable.

Blake:
Why else do we fight, Avon?

[Avon has just saved Blake's life]

Blake:
Thank you. Why?

Avon:
Automatic reaction. I'm as surprised about it as you are.

[repeated whispered chant]

Saymon:
They must come to us. They must come. They must. They must. They must come. They must. They must.

Blake:
Zen, how are the repairs going?

Zen:
They are proceeding on schedule.

Blake:
What caused the malfunction?

[pause]

Blake:
Well?

Zen:
Involvement is not permitted.

Blake:
If the ship's blown up, lofty disinterest won't save you.

Zen:
Repair monitors report explosive device attached to primary power channel.

Blake:
Where?

Zen:
Hold three, access duct seven.

Blake:
Well can the automatics neutralize it?

Zen:
No.

Blake:
Why not?

Zen:
There is no damage.

Avon:
Computer logic. Until the bomb explodes there is nothing for the repair system to repair. Zen, can you reprogram the automatics?

Zen:
Preemptive interference in crew activity is forbidden.

Blake:
[running for passageway] Oh, he'll clear up after us, but he won't stop us making a mess.

Avon:
[moves to follow him] *You* made *this* mess.

Jenna Stannis:
We're all in it, Avon.

Avon:
[over his shoulder from the passageway] Yes, aren't we!

Olag Gan:
What are you trying to do?

Avon:
Bypass the detector comp and use another of the systems to receive the signal.

Olag Gan:
Can it be done?

Avon:
Some of this technology is a little more advance to that which I'm used. I'm having to guess at some of it.

Olag Gan:
What about the automatic repair system?

Avon:
Oh, it'll do the job. Eventually. It's very methodical. It starts at the beginning and it works its way through. It's slow. You should appreciate that problem.

[Avon throws a switch. A whole panel shorts out and burns]

Avon:
No, that wasn't the one.

Olag Gan:
It'll take *days* to repair that.

Avon:
On any ordinary computer system. But this isn't any ordinary computer system. A malfunction of that size would have registered on the autorepair. It should cut in about five seconds. Watch. It will be cutting in about... now.

[Autorepair restores the circuitry]

Olag Gan:
[in awe] That is fantastic.

Avon:
Yes, isn't it.

[Avon disconnects his patch wire]

Avon:
As a matter of fact it is.

Avon:
We could make a fortune with it if it wasn't for Blake.

Olag Gan:
In what way?

Avon:
There's always a market for technology like this.

Olag Gan:
I don't think Blake would agree to that.

Avon:
There will come a time when he won't be making the decisions.

[Avon smiles]

Blake:
Vila.

Vila Restal:
Yes.

Blake:
It's time to use the neutron blasters.

Vila Restal:
At last. I've been looking forward to this.

Blake:
Take it easy. It might blow us all up. See if you can blast a hole through that web. Fire!

[Vila presses a button to fire. An alarm sounds]

Zen:
Neutron flare shield has not been activated.

Vila Restal:
Which one's that?

Blake:
[angrily to Zen:] *Activate* the neutron flare shield!

[Alarm stops. A parallel hatch pattern overlays the main screen]

Zen:
Confirmed. Blasters are cleared for firing.

[Blake whirls around and levels his gun at a lone Decima that has snuck up behind him]

Blake:
Keep back.

Decima:
Help us. Help us, please.

Zen:
Limited range forward vision is available should you require it.

Vila Restal:
Why couldn't you tell us that before?

Blake:
Put up forward vision.

Cally:
[about Vila] He fears death?

Vila:
I plan to live forever - or die trying.

Blake:
Zen, report status.

Zen:
Liberator is stationary and is stabilized in an anti-orbital posture.

Vila:
Whatever that means.

Blake:
It means we got it right.

Jenna:
Together we can fly this ship manually.

Gan:
I think we make a good team.

Avon:
[sardonic] Well hooray for us.

Jenna Stannis:
Together we can fly this ship manually.

Olag Gan:
I think we make a good team.

Kerr Avon:
Well, hurray for us.

Jenna Stannis:
We've lost them.

Vila Restal:
So much for federation pursuit ships.

Olag Gan:
At least we know we can outrun them.

Vila Restal:
Outrun them? In this we can out stroll them!

Roj Blake:
Up until now we've only been a minor irritation to the Federation. I think it's about time we hurt them.

Jenna Stannis:
I don't like the sound of that.

Kerr Avon:
Neither do I. I thought it was agreed we wouldn't do anything without discussing it thoroughly.

Roj Blake:
True. It was also agreed that anybody could opt out at any time. Just tell me when you want to leave.

Kerr Avon:
Oh, I will. But in the meantime I think we have a right to know what it is you're planning.

Roj Blake:
Zen, set a course for Saurian Major, speed standard by two.

Zen:
Speed and course confirmed.

Kerr Avon:
That falls a little short of my idea of a thorough discussion.

Roj Blake:
They've built a vast transceiver complex there. All Federation signals and navigation controls are beamed into Saurian Major, boosted and redirected. It's a vital nerve center in the Federation space control system. Destroy that, and you blind, deafen and silence them. That's what we're going to do.

Kerr Avon:
A blow for freedom.

Olag Gan:
Yes, our freedom. For a clever man you're not very bright. Deaf, dumb and blind how are they going to catch us?

Kerr Avon:
I'm sure Blake will manage it somehow.

Roj Blake:
Some species even have an intelligence rating.

Vila Restal:
That's a comfort. I should hate to be eaten by something stupid!

Vila:
So much for federation pursuit ships.

Gan:
At least we know we can outrun them.

Vila:
Outrun them? In this we can out stroll them.

Blake:
Don't get too relaxed about it. They'll keep on coming.

Vila:
We have the whole universe to hide in.

Blake:
Except that we're not going to hide. Very soon now the Federation ships will know exactly where we are. Or at least, where we've been.

Vila:
[somewhat confused] I don't follow you.

Avon:
Oh, but you do. And that's the problem!

Cally:
May you die alone, and silent!

Jenna:
Getting nervous?

Vila:
No, I've been nervous all along.

[looking around Saurian Major]

Blake:
You have to be careful of the planet life around here. Some of it's carnivorous. Some species even have an intelligence rating.

Vila:
That's a comfort. I should hate to be eaten by something stupid.

[as Blake is trying to convince Cally he's not Federation, she hears a noise nearby and spins around with her gun leveled]

Cally:
Out!

[Vila emerges and comes down towards them, hands raised]

Vila:
No need for belligerence, pretty lady. I'm harmless! Quick, isn't she?

Cally:
Is he one of your crew?

Blake:
One of them.

Avon:
[out of sight] And he's useless as he said.

[Avon appears from behind cover and walks towards the others]

Avon:
I've had a gun on you the whole time. You were dead as soon as you broke cover.

Vila:
"Harmless" was the word I used.

Avon:
You couldn't even get that right.

Jenna:
I keep wondering whether it wouldn't be better to opt out of all this. Find a safe planet. Hide.

Gan:
They'd still find you.

Jenna:
I suppose.

Gan:
But if you wanted to leave, you know Blake wouldn't try to stop you.

Jenna:
No, I know. What about you? Are going to stick with him?

Gan:
I have to. I want to stay alive. And to do that I need people I can rely on. I can't be on my own.

Jenna:
What do you mean?

[pause]

Jenna:
Gan?

Gan:
I killed a security guard. They said it was murder. But he had a gun. I was unarmed. You see, he killed my woman.

[after Cally explains how the rest of the resistance on Saurian Major were killed]

Blake:
You've been working alone ever since.

Cally:
My work was in communications, but there will be companions for my death. I plan to raid the complex. To destroy until I am destroyed.

Blake:
Well, our aim's the same, but I wasn't planning a suicide mission.

Vila:
I should hope not!

Soolin:
[about Vila] Doesn't have much time for Tarrant does he?

Avon:
Ah well. Tarrant is brave, young, handsome... [chuckling] There are three good reasons for anyone not to like him.

Avon:
One of the almost human things about Orac is that it does not like to work.

Orac:
The art of leadership is delegation.

Jenna:
What would you know about guilt?

Avon:
[smiling] Only what I've read.

[Trooper Par is discussing his service under Commander Travis]

Major Thania:
You served a full tour with Space Commander Travis, didn't you?

Trooper Par:
Five years. He was hard.

Major Thania:
But fair?

Trooper Par:
No. Not often, anyway. But you could always rely on him not to get you killed unnecessarily. He never wasted troopers.

Major Thania:
Oh, that's something, I suppose.

Trooper Par:
Major, when you're up to your neck in slime and lasers, that's everything.

Jenna:
What are you doing?

Avon:
It's a detector shield. I've been working on it for some time.

Vila Restal:
Everyone should have a hobby. What's it do?

Avon:
It should keep us off everything but the Federation's close range visual scanners.

Vila Restal:
You mean their long-range detectors won't pick us up at all? But that's brilliant, Avon, absolutely brilliant! It'll never work.

Avon:
There's only one way to find out.

Avon:
I'm sure Blake will find us something suitable to attack.

Vila Restal:
I see. You've decided to be led like the rest of us.

Avon:
I shall continue to follow. It's not quite the same thing.

Vila Restal:
I don't see the difference.

Avon:
I didn't really think that you would.

Avon:
One of these days they are going to leave you. They were almost ready to do so this time.

Roj Blake:
Yes, I thought they might be.

Avon:
You handle them very skillfully.

Roj Blake:
Do I?

Avon:
But one more death will do it.

Roj Blake:
Then you'd better be very careful. It would be ironic if it were yours.

Space Commander Travis:
A field officer, like myself, is frequently required to make fast, unconsidered decisions. You were all field officers, you know that's true. Time to think is a luxury battle seldom affords you. You react instinctively. Your actions, your decisions, all instinct, nothing more. But, an officer's instincts are the product of his training. The more thorough the training, the more predictable the instinct, the better the officer! And I am a good officer. I have been in the service *all* my adult life. I'm *totally* dedicated to my duty and highly trained in how to *perform* it. On Serkasta I, I reacted as I was trained to react! I was an instrument of the service! So if I'm guilty of murder, of *mass* murder, then so are all of *you*!

[a patrol of six Federation pursuit ships just flew past the Liberator]

Vila Restal:
They missed us! Avon's gadget works!

Roj Blake:
I never doubted it for a moment.

[Avon looks troubled]

Roj Blake:
[to Avon:] Is something wrong?

Avon:
It just occurred to me, that as the description of a highly sophisticated technological achievement, "Avon's gadget works," seems to lack a certain style.

Fleet Warden-General Samor:
Space Commander, we have considered your sentence at some length. Your contention that what happened on Serkasta was a direct result of your training concerned us greatly. We accept that you are trained to kill. As are we all. What we cannot accept is that this training leads inevitably to the murder of innocents. Your behavior was not that of a Federation officer, but rather that of a savage, unthinking, animal... We cannot find it in our hearts to absolve you in any way of the responsibility for these murders. The sentence of this tribunal is, therefore, that you should be stripped of all rank and privileges, that you be dishonorably dismissed the service, and that you then be executed for the common criminal you have shown yourself to be.

Fleet Warden-General Samor:
Do I take it you have nothing to say?

Space Commander Travis:
The Federation is run by hypocrites and supported by fools. I'm glad to be rid of you all.

[Vila is teaching Orac riddles]

Vila:
No, Orac, you don't understand. I say "Where to space pilots leave their ships?" and you say, "I don't know, where do space pilots leave their ships?"

Orac:
And supposing I don't wish to know that?

Vila:
But you've got to say it or the riddle won't work.

Orac:
It is plainly nonsensical.

Vila:
Of course. That's the whole idea.

Orac:
I fail to see why I take part in a meaningless, illogical conversation. It doesn't make sense and is therefore a waste of time. I'm shutting down.

Vila:
Do it for me this once, Orac, please. Ready? Where do space pilots leave their ships?

Orac:
I don't know. Where do space pilots leave their ships?

Vila:
At parking meteors.

[Vila laughs. Orac shuts off indignantly]

Vila:
Knock, knock.

Orac:
Who's there?

Vila:
Atch.

Orac:
Atch who?

Vila:
Sorry, I didn't know you had a cold.

Orac:
A cold what?

Vila:
No, not a cold what. Just a cold. You know, cold, chill.

Orac:
I am not subject to colds and chills. Some trace deposits on my anodizers perhaps, but I am quite capable of dealing with that myself.

Vila:
[giving up] Forget it. Go back to sleep.

Orac:
Is this another riddle?

Vila:
No.

Orac:
The idiosyncratic syntax of riddles interests me. They seem to depend for their effect on solecisms and grammatical discrepancies.

Vila:
[totally confused] Eh?

Orac:
Do you have another riddle for me to analyze?

Vila:
You'd only spoil it.

Orac:
I thought you liked riddles.

Vila:
I do when I'm allowed to tell them properly. All you're interested in is the idiotic tintax or something.

Orac:
That's very clever.

Vila:
What is?

Orac:
For idiosyncratic syntax you substituted idiotic tintax. Yes, very good.

Vila:
[brightening] Is it?

Orac:
Another one, please.

Vila:
Right. What's the best cure for water on the brain?

Orac:
I don't know. What is the best cure for water on the brain?

Vila:
A tap on the head.

Orac:
A tap on the head. Yes, I see. In this instance the word tap has a double meaning, as in to strike something and as a device for controlling the release of fluid from a tank or pipe. The fluid referred to is water, therefore, tap on the head has two ambivalent meanings, one pertaining to the striking of the cranium...

[Vila grabs his head in frustration]

Dayna Mellanby:
I'm too young to be absorbed.

Orac:
The idiosyncratic syntax of riddles interests me. They seem to depend for their effect on solecisms and grammatical discrepancies.

Vila Restal:
[totally confused] Eh?

Orac:
Do you have another riddle for me to analyze?

Vila Restal:
You'd only spoil it.

Orac:
I thought you liked riddles.

Vila Restal:
I do when I'm allowed to tell them properly. All you're interested in is the idiotic tin tax or something.

Orac:
That's very clever.

Vila Restal:
What is?

Orac:
For "idiosyncratic syntax" you substituted "idiotic tin tax". Yes, very good.

Vila Restal:
[brightening] Is it?

Orac:
Another one, please.

Vila Restal:
Right. What's the best cure for water on the brain?

Orac:
I don't know. What is the best cure for water on the brain?

Vila Restal:
A tap on the head.

Orac:
"A tap on the head." Yes, I see. In this instance the word "tap" has a double meaning, as in to strike something and as a device for controlling the release of fluid from a tank or pipe. The fluid referred to is water, therefore, "tap on the head" has two ambivalent meanings, one pertaining to the striking of the cranium...

[Vila grabs his head in frustration]

Servalan:
Where there's life, there's threat.

[Regarding mined-out asteroid PK 118 on the screen]

Kerr Avon:
Predictably barren.

Jenna Stannis:
Wretched mining companies. No sense of aesthetics.

Kerr Avon:
What do you want them to do, landscape?

Jenna Stannis:
Well, they could make an effort.

[Shivan holds Ven Glynd's case on his lap]

Shivan:
Protocol for your puppet, eh?

Ven Glynd:
Careful with that!

Shivan:
Your precious box of tricks.

[Shivan opens case]

Ven Glynd:
Precious to us all.

Shivan:
But most of all, Glynd.

[Shivan brandishes control box from the case]

Shivan:
With this.

Ven Glynd:
Leave that, Shivan!

Shivan:
For you alone, you're the real master.

Ven Glynd:
[Coldly:] Be careful.

Shivan:
L'?minence grise.

[Shivan returns device to the case]

Shivan:
You imagine I haven't smelt you out?

Ven Glynd:
Sharp of you.

[Shivan holds case to Ven Glynd. Ven Glynd attempts to take case from Shivan, but Shivan does not release it]

Shivan:
You think I am so damn enfeebled as to forget the rules of the game? Enthrone your puppet Blake to posture and proclaim whilst you enjoy the real fruits of power.

[Ven Glynd yanks case free from Shivan]

Ven Glynd:
Governor Le Grand must be greeted.

Shivan:
You still need me, brother.

Ven Glynd:
Did I deny it - "brother"?

Roj Blake:
[Exiting the bridge] For once just try trusting me.

Cally:
What is this priority of his?

Kerr Avon:
Exactly. He's used a number of ploys to get his own way, but, "Just try trusting me"? That's weak even by his standards.

Roj Blake:
Got us back on course for Del Ten, have they?

Vila Restal:
That's right.

[Vila moves to replace the tranquilizer pad on Blake's forehead]

Roj Blake:
Not just yet. You know what's happening, don't you?

Vila Restal:
Happening?

Roj Blake:
Avon and Cally.

Vila Restal:
What about them?

Roj Blake:
Paired up. Mutual affinities.

Vila Restal:
You mean - ?

Roj Blake:
Oh, it's been going on for some time now. I didn't realize it had gone as far as this.

Vila Restal:
As what?

Roj Blake:
Well, why do you think they're so keen to get us to Del Ten?

Vila Restal:
The beta particles.

Roj Blake:
Who said?

Vila Restal:
Well... *you* did!

Roj Blake:
No, *Avon* said. I didn't want to resist him, block him or it. Would arouse his suspicion. I needed time to form a counter plan.

Vila Restal:
What are you saying?

Roj Blake:
Our only hope is this asteroid. Correction, our nearest hope.

Vila Restal:
But you're suggesting...

Roj Blake:
Oh, betrayal, treachery, piracy, call it what you will: that is what Avon and Cally are up to.

Vila Restal:
And Jenna?

Roj Blake:
No, not Jenna. I think she was probably duped by the other two.

Vila Restal:
How?

Roj Blake:
Space fatigue, is that what they're saying?

Vila Restal:
Yeah.

Roj Blake:
Well, It's obvious, isn't it? They gave me some form of drug, and then put on a show for you and her.

Vila Restal:
[considering] Wow, Avon has been excluding me a bit lately.

Roj Blake:
It's nothing to what he'll do when they get to Del Ten.

Vila Restal:
What?

Roj Blake:
He *might* allow you to stay on afterwards. He'd be stupid to reduce his manpower more than absolutely necessary.

Vila Restal:
Well, what do we do?

Roj Blake:
The first thing to do is to resume course for that asteroid.

Vila Restal:
Right.

Roj Blake:
[indicating his restraints] One more thing, Vila.

Vila Restal:
Oh yes, sorry.

[Vila releases Blake]

Roj Blake:
Thank you. Asteroid PK, One, One, Eight.

Vila Restal:
Right.

Vila Restal:
[Moves in front of Zen] Zen, abort course for Del Ten. Resume course for asteroid PK One One Eight. Confirm with arrival time.

Zen:
Arrival asteroid PK One One Eight at nineteen zero eight.

Vila Restal:
Just over half an hour.

Vila Restal:
[turns around] Blake?

[Blake is gone]

Tarrant:
I don't have much faith in Zen, or anything else on the Liberator.

Dayna:
Then why didn't you stay up there and leave this mission to me?

Tarrant:
I don't trust anyone except my self. That's why I'm still alive. Which way?

Dayna:
Zen's groundplot said due north. And don't look so warlike.

Tarrant:
Coming from you that's almost funny.

Mutoid:
Long range sensors are registering a slight volcanic tremor from the planet Obsidian.

Servalan:
That's all right, it's normal.

Commander Mori:
You're quite sure about that, I suppose?

Servalan:
[annoyed] Of course I'm sure. I'm going there, aren't I?

Tarrant:
[to Dayna] So. These are your friends.

Tarrant:
[to Hower and Bershar] Where are our guns?

Hower:
We do not allow offensive weapons on Obsidian.

Dayna:
And our wrist communicators?

Hower:
All six of them. Why so many, I wonder?

Tarrant:
Replacements. They break down easily.

Space Commander Travis:
Power usually makes its own rules.

Kerr Avon:
[presenting a data card] Orac has just come up with the computation and attack strategy that he asked for.

Olag Gan:
What attack strategy?

Kerr Avon:
Exactly. Another of Blake's little schemes he hasn't thought fit to tell us about. You are not going to believe the target he has in mind.

[Avon tosses the card down]

Cally:
[without picking it up] The Federation Weapons Development Base?

Kerr Avon:
That's right.

Jenna Stannis:
[inspects the card] He obviously thought fit to tell *someone* about it.

Cally:
Well, not exactly. I suggested it to him.

Jenna Stannis:
*You* suggested it to him. That's very keen of you.

Vila Restal:
Why didn't you suggest it to us?

Cally:
Because I knew how you'd react.

Kerr Avon:
Auron may be different, Cally, but on Earth it is considered ill-mannered to kill your friends while committing suicide.

Kerr Avon:
It is a triple-A security installation.

Vila Restal:
We have got into those before.

Kerr Avon:
Usually with your screams of protest ringing in our ears. Are you telling me that you're in favor of this idea?

Vila Restal:
No, not exactly, I just don't think it's stupid. Perhaps - maybe I'm on your side, Cally.

Roj Blake:
It's not a question of sides, Vila.

Kerr Avon:
No, it's a question of intelligence, so your opinion has very little relevance.

Olag Gan:
Someone must have made an attack on the base.

Vila Restal:
Who'd be stupid enough to do that?

Kerr Avon:
[snaps his fingers] Justify: "stupid".

Olag Gan:
[entering carrying Orac] Here we are. He wasn't very happy at being interrupted.

Roj Blake:
I'll apologize later. Orac, your information on the Weapons Development Base is unsatisfactory.

Orac:
Define "unsatisfactory".

Roj Blake:
I was about to. Your strategic computations start from the premise that the base is on maximum security alert.

Orac:
Computer communications traffic indicates that it is.

Jenna Stannis:
Not permanently?

Orac:
It is not a practice drill.

Cally:
So what is it?

Orac:
Clearly, some occurrence which is a real or apparent threat.

Jenna Stannis:
Thank you, Orac. I'm sure we'd have never worked that out for ourselves.

Orac:
It is therefore the case that security in the immediate future will be sensitive and alert.

Roj Blake:
A fact to be included in strategic computations. Moral:

Kerr Avon:
Never argue with a computer.

Roj Blake:
Right.

[last lines]

Carnell:
[via video recording] One last thing, Supreme Commander. I must tell you this. You are undoubtedly the sexiest officer I have ever known. Goodbye, Servalan.

[Servalan picks up her flower and smiles]

Supreme Commander Servalan:
The weapon is ours, and safe because it guards itself.

Clonemaster Fen:
Precisely so.

Space Commander Travis:
"The weapon guards itself."

Supreme Commander Servalan:
[coldly] Thank you, Travis.

Space Commander Travis:
I was merely quoting you, Supreme Commander.

Supreme Commander Servalan:
[stern] Contact the ship. I have an appointment with a man named Carnell.

Jenna Stannis:
We're below horizon now.

Olag Gan:
Then she's lost!

Kerr Avon:
Only us. She got what she really wanted.

Vila Restal:
I thought that *was* us.

Roj Blake:
IMIPAK. And she beat us to that all right. She seemed to know every single move we were making. It's almost as if we were on strings and she was the puppeteer.

Cally:
What is IMIPAK? Is there a defense against it?

Zen:
Detectors report two Federation pursuit ships leaving stationary orbit on intercept course.

Roj Blake:
Take us out of here, Jenna. Speed: standard by eight. I want a lot of space between us and that planet.

Olag Gan:
[to Avon] Is there a defense against IMIPAK?

Kerr Avon:
Of course there is! It's called slavery!

Jenna Stannis:
Maybe IMIPAK is another Orac. If we captured it, perhaps we could breed from them.

Roj Blake:
What a disgusting idea.

Roj Blake:
[draws on the main screen by remote] Zen's best guess is that he's here. Offers?

Olag Gan:
Let's go and get him.

Kerr Avon:
[sardonically] Gung ho.

Vila Restal:
*You* go and get him. We're already too close to the security zone for my taste.

Roj Blake:
Jenna?

Jenna Stannis:
If we know he's there, chances are Federation Security know it, too.

Cally:
Zen may have been wrong.

Kerr Avon:
In which case going there would be safe, but pointless.

Vila Restal:
Now that I wouldn't object to.

Jenna Stannis:
Be quiet, Vila.

Vila Restal:
Why ask my opinion in the first place?

Cally:
Actually, nobody did.

Vila Restal:
[to Cally] That's the last time I stand up for you.

Kerr Avon:
I think we should go and get him. Always assuming that he is there, and Federation Security are not.

Jenna Stannis:
[smiles] "Gung ho"?

[Blake smiles]

Kerr Avon:
[pointedly ignoring having his words thrown back at him] We do not know what IMIPAK is.

Roj Blake:
Exactly. The least we've got to do is find out what it does.

Vila Restal:
Why have we? I can live without it.

Roj Blake:
It's just conceivable that you can't.

Kerr Avon:
Unless of course you want your last words to be, "So *that's* IMIPAK."

Vila Restal:
[confused] I think my brain must be furring up.

Olag Gan:
[from across the bridge] IMIPAK might be something they can use against *us*, Vila!

Vila Restal:
[and back again] Only if it can run faster than we can!

Carnell:
[of his chess game] Checkmate. Six times in a row I've beaten it. Supposed to be the best chess computer available. Cost me a fortune. I don't suppose you'd care to discuss my fee at this particular point, would you?

Supreme Commander Servalan:
[smiles] No.

Carnell:
Oh.

Supreme Commander Servalan:
[of Coser] Why are you so certain he isn't dead?

Carnell:
He's too good a pilot to have lost control that close to the ground.

Supreme Commander Servalan:
You don't know how close to the ground he was.

Carnell:
They identified the remains of the ship. If he'd lost it in the descent from primary orbit, there'd be nothing left to find, let alone identify. Therefore, he was close and slow when it happened. Therefore, it didn't happen.

Supreme Commander Servalan:
You're very plausible.

Carnell:
I'm very good, Supreme Commander, believe me. I've taken everyone and everything into consideration. It's all as predictable as that very expensive chess machine.

Carnell:
By now Coser is completely psychotic. It won't strike him as remotely odd that a folk hero he admires so much arrives out of nowhere. And when a second Blake turns up, he probably won't even notice. He's a very sick man. He shouldn't be totally alone as he is. It's awfully bad for his health.

Carnell:
Give me the report.

[Carnell flips the folder open and, after just a glance, closes it]

Carnell:
Do you play chess?

Officer:
A little, sir.

Carnell:
[hands him the chess computer] Take it. It's yours.

Officer:
[accepts] Thank you, sir.

Carnell:
[back to report] A small return for saving my life. But then it's all I own. You have my leave to go now.

[Officer leaves]

Carnell:
[sits down, then sits back] And the *other* mistake I made was not getting an advance on my *fee*.

Carnell:
What did you want to see the Supreme Commander about? Or am I being indiscreet?

Officer:
I have a report for her.

[Carnell puts out his hand for the report folder]

Officer:
It's confidential.

Carnell:
[firmly] From an official psychostrategist?

Officer:
[clearly in awe] You're a Puppeteer?

Carnell:
[feigned hurt] Do they still call us that? I never really felt that did me justice.

Officer:
My apologies, sir; I meant no offense.

Carnell:
I was offensive. Why shouldn't you be?

Supreme Commander Servalan:
It's going wrong, Carnell.

Carnell:
Wrong? Ma'm, I'm mortified by your lack of confidence.

Supreme Commander Servalan:
If I lose Coser - and his invention - "mortified" is exactly what you'll be.

Carnell:
I realize that.

Supreme Commander Servalan:
So long as you do.

Carnell:
A brilliant psychostrategist like me? Come now, Supreme Commander. How would I not?