Stiletto Bits 1

   Puss observed Avon more closely than the computer expert realized. He knew, abstractly, that the feline's senses were more acute than his, but he didn't have any idea precisely how acute they were.
    He's tired, Puss thought, watching the slightly slower than usual pace as Avon entered the recreation room. Tired, but in a good mood, "Tired, she noted, assessing the relaxed curve of his lips and the lack of tension around his eyes. She liked his eyes. Everything about him was exotic and exciting to her, but most of all his large, night- dark, eyes. None of her people had eyes that color. She purred as Avon entered the room.
    Avon paused in the act of turning on the illumination. He had hoped to rest for a few moments, away from the others on Stiletto . He had just completed his latest project and wanted to bask in the feeling of accomplishment for a while, before Blake pointed out the myriad of chores Avon hadn't done yet. "Puss? Why are you sitting here in the dark?" As he expected, his only answer was another rumbling purr. He could simply leave and go to his own cabin, but he changed his mind about the extent of the privacy he wanted. Puss was good company, undemanding and quiet, well suited to his present frame of mind. "Never mind." He left the main lights off, and made his way to the couch by the dim glow of the low-level safety lights set in the base of the walls. "My eyes could use a break. I've just finished twelve hours of micro-miniature circuitry work." He rubbed both sides of his nose, then completed the gesture with a slow scrubbing over and around his closed eyes. "Would you mind sharing the couch?"
    The feline shifted, changing her elongated lounging pose into a more compact, yet equally relaxed, curl. Avon accepted the offer and settled down beside her. He leaned back with a sigh and stretched, arching his back and his legs to take out the kinks in his spine.
    Puss took advantage of his proximity. She nuzzled his neck gently and washed the smooth skin in one, long, wet swipe of her tongue.
    Avon reached out in the dark to lay a restraining hand on the tigris. His groping fingers encountered the velvet softness of her ear. He fondled the warm silk, running his fingers over the ear from base to tip, the great cat's responsive purr vibrating against his chest as she snuggled closer, eager for more caresses.
    It was dark, there were no witnesses to note his lapse of cynicism, and Avon was pleasantly enervated. Why not give in to the urge to stroke the silky fur, to bask in the happiness that such a simple action gave Puss? She returned the pleasure emphatically, through her empathic abilities. Puss reminded him of a pet he'd had long ago. Of course, that feline had needed him in an entirely different fashion. He rather liked being needed for something other than his technical abilities. It was good to know that not every living being expected him to be cold and callous. Besides, Puss was warm, and softly pelted over the firmly muscled strong body that curled about him protectively. He yawned and wrapped both arms around her, allowing his head to droop against her as his eyes slipped shut. "Just for a few minutes", he thought, as he drifted off to sleep.

    Pavra looked into the recreation room later, wondering where her friend Puss had hidden herself. She paused, with the door open, gazing at the two entwined figures. Avon's dark head was pillowed on Puss's snowy breast while his arms were loosely encircling the broad chest which rose and fell with soft murmured purrs, barely breathed whispers of contentment. Pavra smiled softly and shut the door.

    Pavra jumped at the unexpected touch of a hand on her shoulder. "Oh, you startled me," she said, turning to face the man behind her.
    "Sorry about that." Tarrant apologized, giving her a brief, but infectious, grin. He shook his head. "We're all a bit touchy, working over-time trying to get Stiletto up to Avon's standards."
    "Only Avon's standards? I seem to recall your having a ‘discussion' with Dayna over the weaponry system, which you said was ‘inadequate and inefficient'. She was rather upset about it." Pavra returned Tarrant's grin.
    "Well, since Jenna's joined us… you know how it is." He spread his hands. "Blake is getting bigger and better ideas and we need every advantage we can get. Which is why I have been refining the manual controls when I should have been sleeping. Only I can't finish without Avon's help and I can't find him. Neither Andromeda or Orac will tell me where he is. Those computers think he's the only one who counts on this ship," he grumbled.
    "It's Avon's rest period, too," she temporized, unwilling to let Tarrant intrude on Avon's and Puss's catnap. "Can't it wait?"
    "Why should it? Avon's not in his cabin, so he's probably insomniac again. He's been pushing me to get this done, so he's got no kick coming if I pull him away from one of his pet projects to do it." Tarrant noticed Pavra's defensive movement toward the door to the recreation room. "Oh, so he's in there, is he? Resting on his laurels, no doubt." Tarrant started for the door.
    "Don't, Tarrant," Pavra warned, snatching at, and missing, the pilot's sleeve.
    Deftly Tarrant evaded Pavra and opened the door, striding into the recreation room expecting to enjoy Avon's discomfiture at the interruption. The room was dark and he paused, his planned cheerful prologue stopped at "Avon…". Whatever Avon was up to in the dark, there was quite a bit of heavy breathing involved. Suddenly, Tarrant doubted the wisdom of bearding Avon in his den. It wasn't so dark that he couldn't distinguish two forms occupying the couch. One may have been Avon, but the bulk of the other could only belong to one of Stiletto's crew. 'Ooops', Tarrant thought to himself, 'do I really need both Avon and a tigris furious with me?' He saw the two still figures begin to shift, disturbed by his entrance. Hastily, Tarrant backed out of the room, letting the door silently close on the two sleeping cuddled together. He let out his breath in a relieved sigh at the closeness of his escape. "You might have warned me," he said to Pavra.
    "I did try." Pavra laughed out loud, ignoring Tarrant's shush and wary glance at the closed door.
    Tarrant said, "I believe the final adjustments will wait until later. Good night, Pavra."

    Sleepily, Avon turned over. He blinked and squinted into the darkness. Strange, he thought there'd been someone else in the room. Must have been a dream. He yawned and snuggled closer to his roughly snoring bedmate. "C' mer, Fluff," he murmured, patting the furry body.

    Pavra was chuckling over Tarrant's discomfiture. Seeing Avon and Puss curled up together on the recreation room couch had certainly taken the wind out of his sails. Tarrant was uncomfortable with the idea of Avon having a softer side; it went against his preconceived notions of tough, no-nonsense leaders. Pavra had met Avon under entirely different circumstances than Tarrant's introduction, and saw aspects of his character that Tarrant would deny existed. Pavra had known Avon as a child; an affectionate, trusting, mischievous child. She loved him for that hidden child, as well as for the arrogant, impatient, sly-witted man.
    She smiled. He was desirable, and she desired him, but she also felt protective of him. He was confused enough without having an affair with a woman who saw him alternately as little boy and a man who had survived more pain than she cared to think about. No, let him have the uncomplicated love of the Tigris; he needed the empath's soothing touch far more than the commonly found release of a sexual encounter. Damn. Shouldn't have thought about that. It had been too long since Pavra had that 'common' pleasure herself.
    Avon and Blake were so keen to refit Stiletto that they had casually handed out back-breaking workloads lately. Well, give them credit, they worked as hard, if not harder, than the others. Blake frankly seemed oblivious to what he was asking. He simply wanted everything perfect, and he wanted it yesterday. Avon was too stubborn and proud to point out how all the minor tasks added up to one major operation. Everyone else was so relieved to have the two leaders cooperating for once that they were willing to take double shifts and short themselves on sleep. Only sleep wasn't all they weren't getting.
    Avon was out, hopefully for a full night's sleep. Blake was involved with some engineering project that, thankfully, Pavra could not possibly help with. She was just beginning her rest shift and suddenly did not feel at all like resting. She considered the possibilities. Blake and Jenna were an item, besides Blake was busy. Tarrant and Dayna were also fairly committed to each other. That left…well, no surprise, there, Pavra knew who she was after all along. He does have lovely hands, and he is very friendly. Pavra stopped leaning against the corridor outside the recreation room and set out at a brisk pace.
    Arriving at her destination, she knocked softly on the door. Through habit, she preferred that to using the announcer, and she most certainly wasn't going to use the ship's intercom. Pavra waited impatiently. She knew her quarry was here. It was his off-watch, too, and he certainly wouldn't hang about where he might be conscripted for more labor. And she knew he wasn't in the recreation room. She knocked again, louder.
    It seemed to her that the door slid open reluctantly. Vila tried to catch the edge of the door with one hand and the loosely tied robe about his middle with the other. He failed at both tasks. Pavra had an excellent view both of Vila's charms and of the tousled blond gunfighter lounging on his bed.
    "Er, um," Vila stuttered. He reddened most becomingly, Pavra thought - all over.
    Pavra grinned wickedly, borrowing a trick from Avon's book. "Well. Great minds do think alike." She laughed.
    From the bed came an answering chuckle. "Join us," Soolin invited.
    Pavra was quick to accept, joining Soolin on the bunk, which was fortunately much larger than the Liberator's had been.
    Vila looked from one smiling woman to the other and sighed. "A Delta's work is never done."
    Pavra replied, "Very true," giving Soolin a nudge.
    Soolin laughed.

    Jenna had finally found time to check out her suspicions concerning Stiletto's storage holds. Knowing how Servalan dressed, she had hoped that the former mistress of the ship had left some of her designer gowns behind. The cache, once located, was a treasure trove; not only gowns, but jewelry and perfumes and almost every feminine frippery Jenna could imagine. The only lack was in the hair ornament department.
    Jenna held up an especially sheer and sexy black lace negligee in front of herself and posed before a full-length mirror in her quarters. "Nice. I must say, Servalan, you do know how to shop." She tossed the negligee atop the growing pile of ‘keepers' on her bed. "I think that's enough. No sense being piggy, the others might like some of the loot."
    She went to the intercom. "Andromeda, send this message to Soolin, Dayna and Pavra : 'The boutique is open.' Don't let the men know about it."
    Andromeda said innocently, "Are you planning a surprise?"
    Jenna went back to the bed and picked up the negligee again, smoothing the expensive fabric. "Yes. Blake won't know what hit him."

    "I rather like the tiger-skin leotard," Dayna remarked.
    "It would look good on you," Pavra agreed. "I can't imagine Servalan in it, though."
    "That's why I like it." Dayna had passed over most of the collection with disdain as too old-fashioned for her taste, but Servalan had bought a wide enough variety for Dayna to harvest a respectable selection.
    The others also found items to their liking. Pavra and Soolin went to some trouble to select compatible outfits. When they found a matched pair of velvet and lace bodysuits- one in white and the other in black, they were quite pleased. They stood next to each other in the mirror, and tried to decide what hairstyle would best set off the fluff of feathers at the neck of the negligees.
    "I don't why you two are set on being twins," Dayna remarked as she neatly folded up the last of her collection. "After all, who's going to see the two of you at the same time in those outfits?"
    Soolin smirked.
   Pavra shook her head reprovingly at Dayna. "Dayna…"She turned back to the mirror. "You should know better. Vila would be insulted at your lack of faith in his abilities."
    "Oh." Dayna laughed. "Well, I guessed something was going on the day the three of you were all late for watch, but I wasn't sure." She sat down on the bed next to her new clothes. "I'm glad. You are all my friends, you know. Vila is sweet, isn't he?"
    "I imagine Tarrant has his good points, as well," Soolin remarked, dryly. Expectantly, she looked toward Jenna, "How's Blake?".
    Jenna smiled. "When I can get him to stop thinking about the oppressed masses for a while he is… well… you know how enthusiastic Blake can be."
    "Poor Avon, he's missing out on all the fun," Dayna said. She grinned at the others. "Maybe …"
    "No!" came an resounding chorus and a flurry of gowns tossed on the giggling young woman.

    Blake yawned. Jenna had invited him to her quarters to share a bottle of Saurian Brandy that Vila had given her. She had poured the deep- bellied glasses generously and then disappeared into the adjoining room ‘to freshen up', telling him to drink up while he waited.
    He looked at his watch. Jenna had been freshening up for ten minutes. "Jenna?"
    "Just a minute, Blake." Jenna was putting on the finishing touches. She studied herself in the mirror and nodded. "Almost." A few more curls, a tad more scent, perhaps a bit more color in her cheeks?
    Blake drained his glass, then absent-mindedly filled it again and leaned back in the soft padded lounger to sip and relax. He had decided that Jenna was right when she said that he was too tense. The revolution wasn't going to succeed in a day, he needed to pace himself and occasionally forget all about it for a few hours.

    "Blake. Blake," Jenna crooned seductively from the doorway. She extended her right hand and crooked her fingers, making a come-hither sign. "Lover." She stepped further out into the dim light of the room, knowing the effect she made with the sheer nightgown back-lit, outlining her figure. "Blake?" Even if the man was surprised, he ought to have regained his senses and power of speech by now. She walked over to Blake, omitting most of the playful bounce in her stride.
    She came close to Blake and the big rebel gave his first sign of life. He emitted a wall-shaking snore. "Damn it, Blake!" Jenna shouted and threw a large pillow at him.
    "What?" Blake sat up, batted down the pillow and stared at the furious woman standing over him, both her hands on her hips and a glare in her lovely hazel eyes. Assessing the situation swiftly, with the reflexes which had saved his life on more than one occasion, he said, "You're beautiful when you're angry, Jenna."

    Avon rolled onto his side. At least, he tried to roll onto his side. Something heavy was draped over him, impeding his movement. In his sleep, Avon grumbled and squirmed, seeking a comfortable position. He was too hot and the heavy fur cover pressed on him, almost suffocating in its warmth. He pushed at the fur with both hands, but the fur grumbled back and fastened itself to him with sharp prickles.
    The sting in combination with the other discomforts roused Avon. He woke reluctantly. Before the prickles, his dreams had been pleasant. He blinked, momentarily disoriented. He didn't have a fur cover on his bed, and he didn't usually go to bed fully clothed.
    "Damn." Avon remembered now, he'd fallen asleep in the recreation room. It had not been a good idea- his clothes were sweat-sodden and wrinkled and were cutting off circulation in various sensitive areas. He was still tired, but he couldn't go back to sleep until he bathed and changed. First, though, he had to get out of Puss's clutches. He sighed and nudged her with his elbow. The cat grunted and tightened her grip, giving Avon a better reason for a feeling of suffocation. "Puss!" Avon freed one arm with a sudden jerk, garnering a few minor lacerations. Pushing hadn't worked, so he tried pulling the heavy paws forward. Puss made a small mewing protest, as he loosened the claws embedded in his jacket. Once unencumbered, Avon retreated hastily.
    He headed for the door. Behind him, Puss gave another soft wail. Avon stopped, considering the oddness of the sound. He turned back. Puss was lying as he had left her. That was also unusual. The cat could sleep anywhere, but he'd never seen her so deeply unconscious. Any time he'd caught her napping, she'd always awakened instantly alert and clear-eyed, ready for any mischief. "Puss?" When his call failed to rouse the feline, Avon reached for the lighting controls and turned the illumination up to the normal ‘day' level.
    "Puss?" Avon approached the feline warily. She was an alien creature, there was no way of judging her behavior by human standards. Perhaps in her species heavy sleep was followed by homicidal mania. It seemed unlikely, though.
    The cat was waking up at last. She blinked against the light. A semi-transparent inner eyelid was partly visible, extending from the inner eye corner to cover half of the blue with a milky glaze. Puss blinked again, then sneezed.
    "You're ill." Avon was reassured at first by this simple answer for Puss's behavior, then he thought about the implications. Puss had been on board Stiletto with an otherwise human crew for months - either she was suffering from an alien disease with an extremely long incubation period or she had caught a disease which could infect humans as well. The disease by itself need not kill them, simply reducing their efficiency in battle against the Federation would ensure their deaths. And Avon had certainly been exposed. Puss sneezed again. "Do you know what's wrong with you?" Avon asked, harshly.
    The cat's ears drooped. She was ashamed of her weakness, especially to have it displayed before Avon. She shook her head and looked away from him, acutely miserable, both in body and spirit.
    "Stay here. I don't want you to leave this room, do you understand me?" Avon waited for the slow nod, then left the recreation room at a near run. Orac was in Avon's room, the sensors needed to relay bio-information to Orac were in the med-unit nearby. With luck, Avon would be able to retrieve both without anyone else noticing.

    "Have you seen Avon today?" Blake asked Vila. The thief had joined Blake in the engineering section, for once cheerfully volunteering for work. Blake was pleased, although surprised by this unexpected offer, and took advantage of Vila's skillful hands. They had worked together for several hours before Blake wondered why he had not had the dubious pleasure of Avon's company. The computer expert's own work hadn't previously prevented him from showing up at frequent intervals to criticize Blake's contribution. It was peaceful without the interruptions, but Blake was always nervous when Avon changed his habits. He had seemed to accept life once more under Blake's leadership with no more than his usual amount of argument, but it was often difficult to tell with Avon when he was quarreling simply because it was his nature, and when he really meant it.
    "Er, no, I haven't seen Avon since yesterday." Vila carefully didn't meet Blake's eyes. Avon would want to kill someone if he knew how far the story of his little catnap with Puss has got. Pavra had told Vila and Soolin, Tarrant had undoubtedly told Dayna, leaving Blake and Jenna the only innocent ones. Knowing Avon, he'd probably elect Vila for the high jump.
    "Vila." Blake put down his tools. "What is it you aren't saying?"
    "I think I hear Jenna calling you, Blake." Vila backed away from the big rebel. "Or maybe it's Pavra calling me. I'll be right back."
    Blake caught Vila by the collar. "Vila."
    Blake was definitely upset. Vila decided that he'd rather have Avon mad at him later, than Blake mad at him now. Besides, with any luck, Avon would be mad at Blake instead. "I didn't see him, but Pavra says he's locked in the recreation room."
    "Locked?" Blake loosened his grip on Vila, but not enough to let the thief escape. "Why would he do that?"
    "Well, he wasn't alone." Vila grinned. "Puss was with him. Pavra thinks that Avon fell asleep in there. You know he was up all hours working on that circuitry. It just caught up with him, and Puss caught up with him, too. I bet she won't let him go."
    Blake frowned. "Puss wouldn't… then again, maybe she would. Come on, Vila."
    "Where are we going?" Vila trotted alongside Blake.
    "You are going to open the recreation room door."
    "What!" Vila stopped dead. "Avon won't like that… Puss won't either. I don't think I like it."
    "Too bad." Blake stared Vila down. "I won't ask you to open the door unless Avon needs help."
    "Well, if you're sure." Vila sighed and followed Blake.

    "Avon!" Blake tried the door first, but it was locked as Vila had said. He hit the intercom button harder than was strictly necessary. "Avon!"
    "What is it, Blake?" Avon's voice came back quickly, but to Blake's worry, Avon sounded strained.
    "Are you all right, Avon? Do you need anything?"
    "Only for you to go away." Avon's rejoinder definitely lacked spirit, and was followed by what sounded like a small explosion, and a weary, "Damn."
    "Avon, unless you can give me a very good reason why not, I'm coming in."
    "Blake… ah, ah," another explosion interfered with Avon's growled threat.
    "That's it. Open it, Vila," Blake ordered.
    "All right, all right, but I'm not going in there. You couldn't pay me enough…that is, if you paid me anything to start with, which you don't," Vila kept up a constant mutter for the few seconds that the recreation room door took him to open. The door started to move and Vila jumped back behind Blake. Curiosity got the better of him, though and he peered around the big rebel.
    Avon glared at Blake, then turned back to spooning a thin pinkish liquid down Puss's throat. The cat wrinkled her nose in distaste and spat afterwards, spattering Avon pinkly. Avon barely twitched and made no move to wipe off his tunic. It wouldn't have made much difference anyway, as the black material was already liberally spotted with dried-on pink and green patches before the addition of the fresh mess. "Satisfied, Blake?" Avon sat down on the couch next to the tigris. He shivered and pulled a wadded- up blanket around his shoulders.
    "You're sick." Blake came forward, drawn by his urge to help his friends. Vila, on the other hand, backed up further out into the corridor.
    "It's nothing serious, Blake." Avon coughed. "On the other hand, it is uncomfortable. Orac has identified it as a mild, influenza-type virus. Short-lived."
    Blake kept coming. He was only a few feet away when Avon sneezed, loudly and wetly.
    Avon wiped his nose and blinked his red-rimmed eyes. He looked at the tiny dark drops of moisture on Blake's tunic and grinned. "Orac also says it is very contagious." He uncapped a bottle of green liquid and measured out a spoonful. With a grimace, he swallowed the dose. "Do you like mint, Blake?"
    "Yes, why?" Blake eyed the bilious green liquid with misgivings.
    "This doesn't taste anything like mint." Avon grinned wider. "As you'll find out."

    "If Blake asks for me, tell him I've jumped ship," Vila told Pavra. He looked over his shoulder to be certain they were alone, then grasped Pavra's sleeve and pulled the woman toward him. "I can't take it anymore, Pavra," he moaned.
    "What's the matter, Vila?" Pavra asked, concerned. She touched his forehead lightly. "Are you coming down with the flu?"
    "Nah." Vila shook his head. "I should be so lucky. It's Blake, well Blake and Avon. Come to think of it, it's Tarrant and Jenna, too."
    "What are you going on about, Vila?"
    "What with Blake and Avon both sick at the same time, and quarantined in the same room, everybody's jumpy and they're all getting at me." Vila flinched and looked around. "What was that?"
    "Nothing, Vila, you're jumping at shadows." Pavra sighed and hugged Vila closer. "Tell the truth, you just want a good cuddle, that's all."
    "That couldn't hurt." Vila returned the embrace. "But it isn't what I meant. Avon told Blake that I was a big help on the Liberator after Blake left. I know he was only being nasty, but Blake thinks Avon meant it, and he's been giving me all sorts of important jobs."
    "And you don't want to work?" Pavra was amused. "Worried that the Thieves Union will catch you doing honest labor?"
    "Pavra. Tisn't funny. Blake was sitting there, perfectly serious with that ‘I'm depending on you' look, asking me to complete the work in the engineering section. So, I have to do it, or disappoint Blake."
    "Well, do it then. Or are you afraid you'd make a mistake?"

    Vila huffed, insulted. "Compared to some of the security systems I've defeated, that bit of plumbing's a joke. O' course, I can do it and Blake knows it. I didn't mind Avon knowing that I'm not really an idiot, because he thinks everyone is an idiot, if you know what I mean. But Blake, now he expects things from me. And that makes Avon jealous- he was always the one Blake depended on. Avon bitches about Blake all the time, but he'd go through fire for him, cursing and complaining the whole way, but he wouldn't have hesitated."
    "And Avon's jealousy bothers you? I thought you were used to Avon being annoyed with you."
    "Being used to something doesn't mean you like it. Besides, it isn't just Avon. Jenna was furious when Blake told her she'd have to shut the engines down while I recalibrated. And she talked to Tarrant and since he thinks pilots and Alphas ought to stick together he was on her side. They told Blake it wasn't a good idea to be floating unpowered while I 'fiddled' with the engines. They told him I shouldn't be allowed to touch anything, that I was a total incompetent. Blake got mad, he yelled, Avon got mad, he sulked, then Blake started coughing and Avon told everybody to shut up and turned off the intercom. And now everyone's mad at me! I tell you, there's no justice in the universe."
    Pavra shook her head. "Vila, you're a thief, and a rebel. What, exactly, is your idea of justice?"
    Vila grinned. "Actually, having Avon and Blake both stuck together in the same room with each other while I'm free to have me wicked way with a lovely lady or two, or mebbe three…"
    "Three?" Pavra considered a moment. "I could call Soolin, and maybe Dayna would be interested. Or Jenna?"
    Vila shuddered. "On second thought, two sounds exactly right." Vila yelped, let go of Pavra and raced off down the corridor. Over his shoulder, he said to Pavra, "Hold that thought."
    Pavra stared, bemused. Vila was getting stranger every day. She turned back, hearing the rapid clicks of bootheels against Stiletto's hard floor.
    "Pavra, do you know where Vila is?" Jenna asked. Beside her, Tarrant's stern features matched Jenna's.
    "No." Pavra didn't know where Vila was now, only where he'd been, and judging by the speed at which he'd left, if she delayed his pursuers for a few seconds longer, he'd be safely hidden.
    Tarrant frowned. "Jenna and I need to find him." The pilot's scowl deepened. "To apologize."
    "To Vila?" Pavra hadn't expected that. She was rather sorry Vila had fled. He would have been speechless, and a speechless Vila was a rare and amusing sight.
    "Yes," Jenna said. She was no more pleased than Tarrant. "He was right. We should work together."
    "Without arguing?" Pavra asked, doubtfully.
    Tarrant smiled. "No, that would be too much to expect. All right, Pavra, which way did he go?"
    Pavra smiled back. "He knows your footstep, you know. I'll go ahead to reassure him ."Pavra left, following Vila's trail.
    Jenna turned to Tarrant. "Maybe this wasn't such a bright idea."
    Tarrant shrugged. "You thought Blake needed something to distract him from worrying about the Federation while he recuperated. I thought being cooped up with Avon and Puss was enough distraction. I must admit, he did get rather excited when he thought we were picking on his favorite thief. "
    Jenna nodded. "Medical monitors jumped very nicely. I remember how depressed he would get after Star One, thinking he'd lost everyone but me. I just wanted to remind him that there were still people he cared about, people to live for."
    "Worked." Tarrant shook his head. "I thought he was going to come right through the intercom at me. Come on, let's go find Vila and get things back to normal."
    Jenna walked beside Tarrant. "You mean back to abnormal."

    Tarrant sighed. "You know, apologizing to Vila is simply going to make him even more of a nuisance than he already is."
    Jenna looked sharply at Tarrant. "We wouldn't have to, if you hadn't gone too far. You were only going to 'put him in his place' you said, make him look for sympathy from Blake, not start a war."
    "How was I to know that Vila had a pet rodent? Or that he slept with the thing in his pocket? And on the flight deck, too." Under his breath, Tarrant added, "and he named the disgusting beast Del!"
    "Still, you didn't have to threaten to wring its neck and his. Making Vila promise to keep it in a cage would have been enough. Instead you scared him, he dropped it and we had to take apart half the control panels to get it out. Can you imagine what that creature could have done to the circuitry?"
    "That's why I was so upset, Jenna. You know what this ship means to me."
    "Yes." Jenna smiled. "I know." When she had first come aboard Stiletto she'd immediately noticed that the ship's pilot was as brash and cocky as Blake's coded reports had said, which had not endeared him to her. While working as Blake's agent with the free traders, Jenna couldn't protect Blake herself, and had to rely on Avon's crew. Tarrant must have been good to have survived this long, if half the exploits credited to Scorpio were true, but she had to know how good. If he wasn't up to her standards, she was going to take over Stiletto. Professional courtesy be damned, her life and Blake's had depended on this. Jenna remembered that day quite clearly.

    Tarrant had recognized Jenna's attitude and reciprocated it. Just because Blake led and Jenna had flown Liberator for Blake didn't mean Tarrant was going to allow her to fly his ship.
    Avon's injury and the influx of free-trader refugees had distracted most of Stiletto's crew, leaving the two pilots alone together on the flight deck. They had smiled and talked politely for a few minutes, sizing each other up. As resident pilot, Tarrant made the first move. He said, "All right. How do we decide?'
    Jenna considered. "Arm wrestling is out of the question," she said firmly.
    Tarrant smiled back, "So is taking a vote. Blake's side always manages to win those, somehow."
    "Well, with brute force and democratic process both eliminated, what's left is very simple- the job goes to whoever can do it best."
    "Suits me." Tarrant looked around the flight deck. "We could take turns piloting, I suppose," he sounded doubtful, "Only…"
    "Only Blake would be up here at the first maneuver wanting to know where the Pursuit ships were," Jenna supplied the end to Tarrant's sentence.
    "And that," Tarrant said, "would rather tend to spoil everything." Tarrant shook his head. "Pity we haven't a pair of Space Academy head-to-head simulators."
    "Yes." Jenna grinned. "I always enjoyed taking the starch out of the rookies."
    "You! Were you J.S.?" Tarrant asked.
    Jenna smiled slyly. "Do you mean my scores are still on the top of the simulator?"
    "Displayed every time you start the program…yes, well, I was going to beat them, but they retired the machine," Tarrant said. He smirked. "Of course, it was an old machine."
    Jenna narrowed her eyes. "You're going to regret that remark, kid."
    "Oh, I doubt it." Tarrant checked the long-range sensors, then said, "Andromeda, you're being awfully quiet. Haven't you any suggestions?"
    The computer gave a very life-like sigh. "Tarrant, you want to know if I can provide the arena for your competition. I could, but why should I? Blake and Avon and Vila have all told us that Jenna is an excellent pilot, and I know you have confidence in your own skills. You should be resting, taking advantage of the quiet. You know Blake; it won't last long."
    "That's right and that's precisely why we need to have this settled now. Jenna and I need proof. You are a computer, Andromeda, you do understand the need for solid, hard facts, don't you?"
    "Oh, all right," Andromeda said. "I've reprogrammed the navigation and original piloting control panels. They will now feed information to me, and I will adjust instruments and display monitors according to your input." A thin white vertical line appeared in the center of the main screen. "Left half of the screen will show simulated view for the navigation position pilot, right for original pilot position." There were faint clicking noises as relays reset. "To be fair, none of the controls now are what the markings indicate. You will have all the functions of a F.S.A. combat and pursuit simulator. You'll simply have to learn where they are by trial and error."
    "This should be interesting." Tarrant rubbed his hands together, pleased at the challenge. "Andromeda, you'll be flying Stiletto by yourself while we are busy. And Andromeda, keep a watch out, will you?"
    "Don't I always?" the computer said, sounding insulted.
    Jenna stepped up to the navigation console and studied the array of buttons, switches, indicator lights and dials. "Tarrant, I like the ship, but where did you get that computer?"
    "Ask Avon." Tarrant cocked his head at the other pilot and said, "Ready?"
    "Right!" Jenna replied.

    Hours later, the two pilots had forgotten the original purpose of their conflict. The battle was everything. They were well matched and try as they might, neither blinking representation of a ship had managed to destroy or elude the other. At first, they had glanced at each other, and been a bit self-conscious to actually have the opponent standing within arm's reach. That passed, until all each saw was screen and instrument panel.
    "Almost," Jenna muttered, "just a little more, "she coaxed the imaginary ship into a steep curve.
    "Not going to fool me." Tarrant scowled and changed course to intercept.
    Both pilots yelled in protest when the main screen suddenly filled with dozens of lean black pursuit ships and their own small white vessels disappeared in identical orange-yellow explosions.
    "Andromeda!" Tarrant shouted. "What do you think you're doing?"
    "I had him, until you interfered," Jenna complained.
    "No you didn't," Tarrant growled back. "Andromeda!"
    "Oh, stop shouting," the computer said. "Blake is on his way, and I didn't think you'd like him to see the two of you trying to kill each other, even if only on a vid-display."
    "Hell," Tarrant complained, "if he'd just waited a bit longer…"
    "How much longer?" Andromeda interrupted, "You've been playing, excuse me, engaged in simulated combat, for over two hours."
    "That long?" Tarrant was surprised. "I wouldn't have thought…"He moved slightly away from the controls and winced at a twinge from muscles stiffened into the one position. "Maybe I would."
    "Who won, Andromeda?" Jenna asked, eager to have it settled before Blake arrived. He might decide in Tarrant's favor in order to avoid a charge of favoritism.
    "Do I look like a scorekeeper?" Andromeda said. "If the winner isn't obvious to you, then I'd say it's a tie."
    "Tie?" Both Tarrant and Jenna exclaimed. They glared at each other for a moment, then laughed.
    "I suppose Stiletto could use a relief pilot," Tarrant said. "Someone older and more experienced."
    Jenna smiled. "You're not half bad for a wet-behind-the-ears cub, yourself."

    Pavra held Vila's hand tightly. She wasn't about to lose this opportunity. Ever since her family was slaughtered on Gauda Prime, she'd been an outsider. Joining the rebel movement on Gauda hadn't changed that, but on Stiletto, she was beginning to feel as if she belonged. She had always been the quiet one in her family, the peacemaker, the one to bandage hurt feelings and soothe harsh words. She liked all of her crewmates, and loved Avon and Vila. Vila had never got on well with Tarrant, she'd learned, and if the pilot was trying to reconcile their differences, then Vila was going to have to meet him half-way. "Come, now, Vila," she said, "You know Tarrant would never really hurt you."
    "How do I know that?" Vila said, raising both eyebrows high. "He said he'd strangle me. Jenna looked like she'd help him. She's probably already done in poor little Del."
    "Del?" Pavra was confused. "Why would Jenna be angry with Tarrant? You said they were ‘sticking together'."
    "Not that Del. My Del. He's a little guy." Vila held his hands a few inches apart. "When Avon was looking in that laboratory on our last mission, I found Del in with a bunch of mean looking rats. He was such a nice, friendly fellow, I could see he didn't belong. I was only going to let him out, let him find his own way, but Avon came in on me and I had to hide Del and then we got teleported up and what with one thing and another, well… Del…"Vila shrugged. "Del just sort of stayed. He wasn't any problem. Hardly ate anything, and he was very good about doing his business in a litter box I fixed up for him. And he was company for me on all those late watches, what with Avon and Blake and Puss sick, I've been sitting last watch a lot lately."
    "Vila, you brought an animal aboard ship without telling anyone?" Pavra was shocked. "And a laboratory experimental animal, at that. What were you thinking of?"
    "I didn't mean to." Vila shuffled. "I did have Orac check Del out first thing, he wasn't carrying any germs. I thought no one would notice…"
    "No, you didn't, you didn't think at all," retorted a male voice from behind Vila.
    Vila jumped. While talking with Pavra, he hadn't noticed that Jenna and Tarrant had found him. "Tarrant, you big bully, what have you done to Del?" Vila cried.
    "Not a thing." Tarrant handed Vila a squirming, squealing cloth, which the thief unwrapped to reveal a trembling, grease-streaked, curly-furred hamster. "I ought to have spaced the pest, but he rather reminded me of you."
    "His big, brown eyes," Vila remarked, carefully examining the animal for injury.
    "No, actually it was when it screamed and wet itself in my hand." Tarrant grinned. "I thought perhaps it was a relative of yours."
    "He has your hair," Vila snapped. The thief waited. "Pavra said you had something you wanted to say to me." He didn't believe Tarrant would do it. Shooting down pursuit ships, crash-landing freighters, making love to Servalan, that was the sort of brave deed Tarrant was capable of, but apologizing to Vila in front of Jenna and Pavra? Not bloody likely. Vila waited for the sarcastic retort he expected.
    "Yes. Well." Tarrant braced himself. " I am sorry that I frightened you."
    Pavra was well rewarded. Vila did drop his jaw and stare at Tarrant. Only for an instant, but that was enough.
    "You should tell little Del that you're sorry. He's the one you were really hard on." Vila held up the animal before Tarrant's face.
    Tarrant turned to Jenna and smiled sweetly. "Jenna, take the rodent. The small one. I am going to teach its owner some manners and I wouldn't want the creature damaged."
    Vila backed up. "On second thought, why don't I just go down to the workshop and see about building Del an escape-proof cage. Won't be easy, mind, he's very good at getting out of tight places." Once out of Tarrant's long arm reach, Vila turned and fled.
    "You're right, Del," Jenna said, "It does take after Vila."