That Spaceport Again
A Pink Dormouse Production
The three-strong delegation from the New Commonwealth strode decisively onto the flight deck of what looked suspiciously like the Liberator. Tyr reached into the mass of wiring beneath Zen and grabbed a handful of leather.
"Do you mind? Oh it’s you, didn’t I solve all your problems last week?" Maybe he’s just come to ravish me. But not if those two are watching: it would totally ruin my reputation.
"Where is she?"
"Who?" Look innocent. Then once they believe it, suggest splitting up in pairs and searching all the likely places...
"The Andromeda avatar of course. I know you wanted her."
"Nothing to do with me- she and Trance just turned up and asked Cally to take them to the Med supplies."
"You’re lying: Cally is dead."
"And the Liberator was destroyed. But as it is now in one piece again I see no reason why Cally should not be here."
Beka winked at Dylan,
"They do smoulder at each other very nicely, don’t they? It’s quite arousing"
"Tell you what when we’ve got this sorted out why don’t we go out for dinner somewhere? Maybe take in a movie after?"
"Forget that: let’s just cut to the action for once."
"On Primetime?"
"Why ever not: they can just cover it using a scene with the Rev coming over all philosophical or something."
"So you deny trying to steal our ship’s computer?"
"Absolutely. I have no need for her- it and therefore no reason to steal."
Meanwhile...
"Of course he’s a complete tart. Took us three series to point out that he couldn’t run in heels to save his life."
"It’s the cows I feel sorry for."
"What?"
"All that leather but no one actually eats red meat anymore. All that wasted existence just to end up with your skin wrapped round someone’s body while the rest of you gets thrown in the recycler."
"Doesn’t sound too bad to me. I could quite happily spend eternity wrapped around certain people’s bodies."
"Now who’s the tart?"
"When did I ever deny it? I can think of a few others who’d have benefited from more extra curricular activities. Our late lamented Fearless Leader for one. Half the crew throwing themselves at him, not to mention passing strangers and he was too busy blowing things up in the name of freedom to even notice."
"Weren’t the others supposed to be meeting us here about now?"
"Oh they’re probably still taking their bad moods out on each other. It’s a common problem with Avon around. Of course if there was a nice non-damaging explosion to throw him onto someone it might give him something else to think about for a while."
On the Liberator...
The explosion in the teleport room rocked the flight deck just enough to throw everyone to the floor.
"Oops." Romy strolled in carrying Orac. "We had a slight disagreement over Quantum Mechanics."
"Which I quite clearly won."
"Oh shut up." She removed Orac’s activator and threw it into a corner. "Ahem. Dylan."
Hunt looked up from where he had fallen and tried to roll out from under Beka just as she tried to roll off him in the same direction.
"This is really no time or place to be-"
"I quite agree." Tyr tried to extract himself from under Avon’s arm, which proved harder than it looked as he was unaccountably on top of the attached hand. "Andromeda, we need you back at the ship immediately."
"Oh but she was going to come to the bar with us." Trance’s tail seemed to be trying to entwine itself around Cally’s leg. Quite impressive when you considered the rate at which they jogged onto the flight deck.
"Yes, we promised to meet the boys there half an hour ago."
"So that’s where Vila went: I did wonder."
"You can co- accompany us as well." Cally was not going to leave herself open to any of Avon’s innuendoes when he was still sprawled over a most disgruntled looking
Nietzschean.
"Well I’m not getting anywhere here." He paused for suitable dramatic effect. "I thought I had found the problem with the relays but then this over-bred lunatic came storming in and distracted me."
"We could all get more work done if you would just get up." Tyr was getting more irritated by the second.
"But I’m already- no matter." He stood up and brushed non-existent dust off his trousers. Tyr stomped off to where Beka and Dylan had finally disentangled themselves from each other.
"We need to find Harper and get away from this disreputable hole."
"That’s no way to- oh, you mean the spaceport! Just when we were starting to have fun as well."
"Speak for yourself, Trance. Some of us have more important matters to attend to than our own perversity." Tyr stomped off more disgruntled than the last time Dylan had offered to leave him behind somewhere. Avon considered following him and being sympathetic, or at least attempting to relieve him of the stupidly oversized gun and groovy little communicator the Nietzschean was carrying. Then again stupidly big guns had a nasty tendency to go off just when you didn’t want them to and he was perfectly happy with his anatomy as it was.
"I suggest we all go to the bar and reclaim the remainder of our respective crews. Dylan?"
"He’s gone. Beka wanted to show him something in the teleport room."
"Bloody blonde bloody pilots. One track minds the lot of them. Cally?"
"Gone back to the store room with Trance. Orac was showing me how to obtain new data from a PP computer earlier and given the choice between you and Seamus..."
"Nearly an hour late. How any of them think they can run a campaign for truth, justice and democratic politics when they can’t even tell the time I’ll never know." Vila double-checked his chrono just to prove that he at least could do what he was talking about.
"How about we put out an all-channels broadcast that Camden Market’s holding a closing down sale?"
"What and get killed in the stampede for cut-price leather and velvet? It’s a thought. Hiya, Tyr. I hope you haven’t done anything I’ll regret later; killing Avon for instance?"
"Not yet." Tyr growled.
"He’s not that bad when you get to know him."
"He gets worse I suppose."
"Come on, Tyr, what have you got against Avon anyway?"
"How long a list were you wanting?"
"Ok, guys." Harper didn’t really want his new friend pounded into mincemeat just yet. "I can see all this Clash of the Egos bit could be very irritating for some people. But surely all we need to do is find a different character to keep Avon occupied while Tyr goes off in search of wine, women and whatever else Nietzscheans want on their days off. Where’s that plot device, Vila?"
"You think Avon would let me look after it?"
"No but you’ve probably got it anyway. Just think of all the casinos and dancing girls you could conjure up with it." A small black cube appeared on the table; on the uppermost face were two switches and six flashing LEDs. "See. I knew you had it somewhere. Now what happens if I try this?" Servalan glided into the bar in a particularly icy mood. "Or maybe not." She disappeared again. "How about this?" Jenna charged in wearing a very short skirt and improbably high heels, a blaster in each hand.
"Ok where’s that little tart got to this time? And what’s he done with Blake?"
"Maybe no-"
"-Hold on!" Vila stopped Harper before he could touch the device again; Tyr was staring at Jenna.
"You! Blonde pilot woman! Do you have room in your hold for the remains of a great leader?"
"If the money’s right." Jenna was blatantly wondering what else might be on offer.
"Good. Then we shall return to the Andromeda before that ‘little tart’ has finished playing with the Romy avatar. Follow me."
"He’s wearing chainmail. Why not?"
"Peace and quiet again. Another drink, Seamus?"
"Why ever not?"
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