Perchance To Dream
by Maddog with Joyce Riffle

Part II b



	"I'm not sure that's the best way to go Avon,"  Blake interjected into the 
conversation.  He started chewing on his finger as he circled the star filled 
cube.
	"And why not?" spat out Avon. It had been a long strategy session and his, 
as well as Blake's, temper was wearing thin.
	Both rebels were standing in the center of one of the many halls in 
Dream's castle.  Vila, long since bored with the strategy meeting, had sat 
himself comfortably in a chair.  Dream had just entered the room and was 
watching the men's squabble with growing irritation.   "Because if you 
sabotage the planets in this sector first,"  the curly haired rebel pointed to a 
region in the star cube.  "You block off any possibility of the Federation being 
able to run troops and supplies through it easily. If you do it your way there 
is still a chance that troops could be supplied to quell the uprising." 	
	"You're not thinking this through Blake,"  Avon said through clenched 
teeth.  "Not that I find that surprising.  Listen carefully this time.  If we 
strike first here,"  Avon pointed towards a sector different than the one that 
Blake had. "then..."  
	Avon's words trailed off.  He had taken his eyes off Blake momentarily so 
that he could indicated the sector.  Now Blake was gone.  He glanced around the 
room.  "Blake?"
	"He's gone,"  Dream said. 
	"Gone where?"  asked Avon.
	"He has, as one of your writers phrased it, shrugged off this mortal 
coil,"  replied Dream, moving closer to the star map.  With Blake gone he would 
have to keep Avon focused.  So far everything had been going according to plan, 
worlds were starting to dream again.  Morpheus had no intention of anything 
interfering at this point.
	"Bring him back,"  snapped Avon.
	"That I cannot do.  Blake was right though, Avon, you should work on the 
Derus sector next,"  came Dream's calm reply.
	"I said bring him back,"  Avon said again, his voice brittle with tension.
	"Avon, I think what Murphy means is that Blake is dead,"  Vila stood up 
from his chair and walked towards his friend.
	"I want him here Murphy.  Bring him back, now,"  the computer genius said 
loudly.  Dream of the Endless made no response but continued to study the star 
cube.  "If you don't bring him back I won't do any more work." 	
	A wave of power seemed to flow through the room.  Dream looked up and 
stared at Avon.  His eyes were totally black and fathomless.  "Do not threaten 
me Kerr Avon.  Never even think about threatening me in my realm." 	
	//Oh, shit,// thought Vila.  //Avon's gone and done it now.  The whole 
place feels charged.  Good thing I'm dead, though that probably wouldn't make a 
difference to Murphy.// 	Avon glared back at his host.  He was angry and 
felt betrayed by Blake's leaving.  Part of him felt some fear but it was 
overwhelmed by desperate need.
	"Uh, he's not threatening you,"  Vila stepped forward and pulled Avon away 
from Murphy.  "He's just, uh, just saying that the work would be done a lot 
better if Blake was here." 	
	"What I'm saying is that if Blake is not here I don't do any work,"  Avon 
spat out, eyes narrowing.
	"No, you're not Avon,"  Vila said, wondering why he was going to all this 
effort for this idiot.  "What you're saying is that you would greatly appreciate 
it if Murphy could get Blake back for you."
	Dream considered his options.  Condemning Avon to ten thousand years of 
endless torture was the option that he favored at the moment, but he still 
needed the man.  If there had been another way, the annoying "computer geek" 
would be having his liver torn out.  He sighed, his sister had recommended this 
human to him.  She owed him a favor.  "I think I understand what you are saying 
Avon.  We will go to Blake and see if he can return.  I make no guarantees.  It 
will be my sister's decision." 	Dream turned on his heels and started 
walking out of the conference room.  Avon and Vila followed. 

**** 	

	Blake was back in the corridor.  The transition had been totally 
unexpected.  He looked around at the stream of people walking in front of him 
and sighed.  He leaned against the wall, his feet sticking out slightly further 
than intended.  Somebody tripped over them. 	
	"Hey watch it,"  the woman complained as she righted herself from 
stumbling. 	"You can see me?" Blake replied, shocked. 	
	"Yeah, you and those big feet," she retorted before turning from Blake and 
heading down the corridor. 	
	"Wait," Blake called out to her. 	
	"Hi!"  	
	A voice next to the rebel's elbow startled him.  Turning around he looked 
at the sound of the voice.  It was a young woman, a teen-ager by the look of 
her, with black hair and eyes.  She was dressed in tight black pants and a black 
shirt that did not come to her navel and had a necklace on.  "Hello,"  Blake 
finally responded. 	
	"You're Roj Blake?" 	
	"That's right," 	
	"I've been looking for you.  Where have you been?"  asked the girl. 	
	"That's rather a long story,"  replied the curly haired man, wondering who 
this woman was and how she knew his name.  She did seem vaguely familiar but he 
couldn't place the face. 	
	"He's been with me, sister,"  Dream called out.  He had appeared in the 
corridor along with Avon and Vila. 	
	"Oh, hi Dream,"  Death greeted her brother.  "He's been helping you with 
that problem you've been having?" 	
	"Yes, he has." 
	"How's that going anyway?" 	
	"The problem is being resolved.  There is still much work to be done, 
however."
 	"Which isn't going to get done unless I have Blake's help."  Avon 
interjected into the conversation.  His voice was angry and petulant. 	Death 
and Dream of the Endless turned and faced the former rebel and computer genius 
for a moment.  Then Dream turned to his sister and spoke.  
	"This is your fault for recommending this man to me.  You probably did it 
on purpose!" 	
	"My fault?"  Death responded, shaking her head in irritation. "Get real, 
Dream, I simply gave you the name of the man most qualified to help solve your 
little problem."
	"He's been nothing but aggravating since he's arrived."
	"But the worlds are dreaming again, right?"  Death replied, shrugging her 
shoulders.
	"Yes, they are.  Unfortunately, Kerr Avon will help me no more unless Roj 
Blake can stay with him.  You see the problem?"
	"Blake's dead.  I'm here to take him."  
	"I'm dead?"  Blake asked, as much to himself as to those around him.
	"Well, just as good as.  Your body was very badly off.  As soon as they 
pull the plug, you'll be pushing up daisies,"  responded Death.  
	"If you're, mostly, uh, dead and you're here,"  said Vila who had quietly 
been watching the flow of people around them in the corridor,  "then are all 
these people dead too?"
	"Yes,"  Death answered before turning her full attention back to Avon and 
Dream.  "Look, Dream, I appreciate your problem but Blake is, like mostly dead.  
He's been in between life and death for a while now and it is time to cross 
over.  Time for him to go."
	"He's not going anywhere,"  Avon stated.
	Dream ignored the man's interruption.  "Might not something be worked out, 
sister.  An exchange, perhaps....."
	"Are you suggesting a trade of some kind, little brother?  That's not 
casually done."
	"You mean that we could get somebody to die in Blake's place?"  asked 
Avon.
	"Something like that, yes.  But there are certain conditions that must be 
met."
	"A swap?"  Vila asked, trying to make sure he understood where the 
conversation was going.  
	Dream turned to the thief and fixed his eyes on him for a brief time.  The 
man was likely to be dead soon anyway.  Maybe he could be traded for Blake.  
Possibly Avon was not as attached to him.  "What about you Vila Restal?  Would 
you die for Roj Blake?"
	"Uh..."  Restal responded, trying to think of an appropriate response.
	"That won't work Dream.  He's already dead,"  Death informed her sibling. 
	"He's dead?"  questioned Morpheus. 	
	"Yeah, has been for a while now.  He's staying in your realm."  Death 
replied, a slight smile crossing her mouth as she saw the expression on her 
brother's face.  Obviously, she thought, Dream has not been paying close enough 
attention to the comings and goings of his domain. 	
	Dream stared down at Vila again.  "You're dead.  How did this happen?" 	
	"Uhm, terrible boot accident, I'm afraid,"  Vila mumbled and then tried to 
think of a way to change the subject.  Dream's gaze was making him terrified.  
"I'm dead," he said then pointed to Blake.  "He's dead.  Hey, we can be Avon and 
his all dead crew,"  Vila exclaimed. 	
	"I like you,"  giggled Death.  "You're funny." 	
	"I am not amused." huffed Dream, angry that things were happening in his 
realm that he hadn't known about.  These humans were annoying him and he wished 
that he didn't need them. 	
	"You never are Dream.  Anyway, that still leaves us with the original 
problem.  Blake is dead." 	
	"I do wish you'd stop saying that over and over,"  Blake interjected into 
the conversation. 	
	"You'll get used to it,"  Vila comforted him. 	
	"Enough!" yelled Dream, his patience at an end.  Even the dead walking 
down the corridor turned to look at him.  "Sister, I need to finish freeing the 
worlds that no longer can dream. To do that I need Kerr Avon.  For Avon to 
continue working, he needs Roj Blake.  I suggest an exchange.  Somebody to die 
willing in Roj Blake's place." 	
	Death considered the ramifications of what her brother was asking her.  It 
was not as easy as it sounded.  Still, he was her sibling and family should help 
family.  "All right, Dream.  I'll agree to an exchange.  It will take me time to 
prepare everything.   Your problem is going to be finding somebody who, freely 
and with full cognition, agrees to die for him.  Remember, he'll need medical 
treatment."
	"That might be difficult,"  Blake offered.  "Just about everyone I know is 
dead.  Why would a stranger give their life for mine?"
	"You've inspired enough rabble over the years Blake.  Surely there must be 
somebody willing to give their all for the cause,"  Avon responded somewhat 
sarcastically.
	Blake glared at Avon, eyes narrowing.  "Avon, I realize that you've been 
under a lot of stress lately and that the work you're doing is difficult,"  the 
former master of the Liberator said, voice deceptively soft, as he moved closer 
to the computer genius.  "But I'm damn sick and tired of your bloody sarcasm.  
Now stop it.  If you don't have anything helpful to say, shut up."  Blake 
finished with a large bellow that managed to back Avon up a few steps. 	
	"Uh," Vila said quietly, raising his hand slightly.  The others in the 
group looked at him.  "I've got an idea." 	
	"Yes, Vila, what is it?"  questioned Blake. 	
	"How about Soolin?  I mean she's, well, she'd be better off dead,"  the 
thief replied, nervously shifting fidgeting.
	"I never met Soolin," Blake replied. 	
	"But it just may be a solution that benefits everybody,"  Avon said 
evenly.  "Perhaps we should get out of this corridor." 	
	Even as Avon's words were spoken the corridor and it's endless stream of 
people faded from view.  The group found themselves once more in a conference 
room in the realm of Dream.
	"You think that Soolin will do what we ask?"  Dream questioned Vila. 	
	"I think so.  I mean, she doesn't have very many choices left, now does 
she,"  sighed Vila.  "I could talk to her." 	
	"No,"  interjected Blake.  "No, I should go.  After all, it's my life for 
her's." 		
	"Murphy,"  Avon asked as he picked up one of the programs he had been 
working on.  "What will happen if Soolin does agree to exchange places with 
Blake?  Will his body come back to life?" 	
	"I believe that is what generally occurs," 	
	"Doesn't that leave Blake in Servalan's hands?"  Vila asked, pointing out 
the obvious. 	
	"Good point, Vila," said Blake.  	
	"Well, don't expect me to do anything about it. I'm the only one doing 
anything about the Pylene-50 situation," snapped Avon. 	
	"You're the reason she has me,"  Blake said darkly.   Not pointing out 
that it was Avon himself that was trying to get him back in the land of the 
living.  "You'd damn well better do something.  Especially considering you're 
the only one alive at this moment."
 	"It's your own damn fault you're shot and dead Blake, if you'd just 
answered my question all of this could have been avoided." 	
	"Since when have you gone around shooting people for not answering your 
questions?" 	
	"Since half the universe was out to kill me,"  Avon said, tired of taking 
all the blame for the Gauda Prime incident. 	
	"Be silent, both of you.  I will arrange it." Dream interrupted the 
growing argument.   He had never had so much difficulty with humans before.  He 
was still positive that it was his sister's fault.  	
	"All right then, can I go talk to Soolin now?"  asked Blake. 	
	"I will arrange it,"  Morpheus replied, exiting from the room. 

****

	"Supreme Commander,"  Admiral Hetchen stood at attention in front of 
Sleer's desk.
	"Yes, Admiral?  You have the reports on the unrest with you?"  Servalan 
asked.
	"Yes, it is even more widespread then we feared.  Not only is there a 
massive uprising on Marly but there are riots on Timus.  Preliminary reports 
also suggest unrest on two other worlds."
	"I see, Admiral,"  Sleer held out her hand for the data disks the man was 
carrying.  "And what is your analysis of the situation?"
	"My analysis is that the Pylene-50 no longer works Supreme Commander,"  
Hetchen replied, more forcefully then he intended.  "I have never agreed that 
the wholesale drugging of worlds was an effective technique for control.  A 
large, well-armed military presence..."
	"I see,"  Sleer interrupted, not wishing to hear any more of the man's 
opinions.  "Please call a meeting of the Security and Internal Affairs  board  
for 15 hundred hours.  That will be all, thank you,"  She said, ignoring the man 
as he walked out.  Slipping the data disk into the reader, she stared at the 
screen as the information of the Marly's rebellion appeared. 

**** 	

	Barnsley yawned noisily then stretched.  He was exhausted.  He'd been 
working non-stop for the last thirty hours trying to make sure the prisoner 
would be in perfect condition for her trial.  //Damn it, she's never going to be 
any more ready then this.  I understand why Cransis is so nervous and all, but 
don't see why I can't let one of the junior technicians monitor her.//  He 
yawned again, eyes closing, his body forcing him at last to sleep.  
Psychotechnician Barnsley never noticed when his patient, the prisoner Soolin, 
drifted off into dream sleep. 

**** 	

	Blake glanced around the room.  He appeared to be on some sort of space 
ship.  He didn't recognize it at first until his eyes came to rest on an 
unusual, roundish shape in the corner.  It appeared to be the ship's main 
computer.  He'd only seen a computer like it once before, in the rubble of a 
ship called the Scorpio. 	
	"It was a good ship,"  a woman's voice said from behind him. 	
	Turning to face the sound, Blake saw a very beautiful blonde seated in the 
pilot's chair.  "Modified planet hopper isn't it?" 	
	"Yes, but with the additions of the Plaxton drive and a teleport, it was a 
formidable pain in the Federation's side."  	
	"Hmm," Blake nodded, he walked over towards the woman and sat down on top 
of the console in front of her.  "But you never meant to fight the Federation, 
did you?" 	
	Soolin tilted her head slightly and nodded agreement.  "What I meant to do 
was make a lot of money selling my special talent.  Revolution was not in my 
plans, no." 	
	"Why didn't you leave?  Surely Avon couldn't have stopped you?"  	
	"At first, I was trying to get away but there was only one ship on Xenon.  
Then, one thing led to another and my name got associated with Avon's rabble.  
Wasn't much point in leaving then, a hired gun the Federation could care less 
about finding, an accidental revolutionary they'd hunt to the ends of the 
universe."
	"Sounds like Vila's reasoning,"  replied Blake, he shifted uncomfortably 
on the console.  "Do you know what's happening?"
	"One of two things, either the psychomanipulators are mucking around in my 
head again or I'm dreaming." 	
	"Which do you think it is?" 	
	"Dreaming.  This feels much like the party I recently went to with Vila," 
said Soolin. 	
	"I went to a party with Vila recently too.  Some really big thing gave me 
a drink."
 	Soolin grinned at the memory.  "Me too, trust that little thief to 
go to only the best society parties." 	
	"Yes,"  Blake smiled back at Soolin for a moment.  His eyes met hers and 
the smile fled his face.  Taking a deep breath, he continued speaking.  "Soolin, 
you know who I am, what I stood for." 	
	"You're Roj Blake and you had some strange notion about deposing the 
Federation so people could govern themselves,"  Soolin summed up what she knew 
about Blake and his politics in a single sentence. 	
	"It wasn't that strange.  There must have been something to it.  Enough 
people wanted to join the fight against the Federation.  It is a repressive, 
destructive government that kills its own people and anything else that gets in 
it's way." defended Blake. 	
	"You don't have to tell me that, Blake.  The Federation murdered my 
family," Soolin replied angrily.
	"I'm sorry,"  the rebel apologized, "I didn't know."
	"Well, now you do.  I suppose this conversation has some sort of purpose?"
	Blake took another deep breath.  What he had to ask was not going to be 
easy.  "Soolin, you know that my body was badly damaged on Gauda Prime?"
	"Yes, Vila told me that it was in cryogenic freeze."
	"Well,"  Blake responded, giving a half smile.  "the Federation rather 
botched it, I'm afraid.  I shouldn't have deteriorated any further once they 
froze me but I have.  I'm technically dead right now."
	"Technically?"  Soolin arched an eyebrow at the term.
	"You see, Avon won't destroy any more Pylene-50 plants unless I'm with 
him."
	"But you're technically dead,"  the blonde woman gently reminded the 
rebel.
	"Yes, and that's the problem.  If I'm dead, your friend the computer 
magician won't continue doing what he's doing."
	"I wouldn't call Avon anybody's friend, Blake," the gunfighter 
interrupted. 	
	"Yes," Blake gnawed his finger for a moment.  The conversation wasn't 
going quite the way he'd planned so far.  "Well, the thing is, I can possibly 
get out of being dead."
	"That's a novel idea.  This has something to do with Vila's and Avon's 
benefactor, Murphy?"
	"Yes, you see Murphy's sister is, well, Death."  
	"That should make an interesting family gathering,"  retorted Soolin. 	
	"Damn it, you're not making this any easier,"  Blake replied sharply. 	
	"Then say what you have to say Blake.  I've had enough with half-truths 
and hidden motives lately,"  Soolin stood up from her chair and walked toward 
the dream image of Slave. 	
	"I need someone to die for me, Soolin,"  Blake finally managed to say.  
There was no reply.  Blake followed the female gunfighter forward.  Wishing he 
had known her in life, he gently grabbed her arm and turned her to face him.  
"Soolin, I know I have no right to ask this." 	
	Soolin's blue eyes stared into Blake's dark brown ones for a moment.  Then 
looked ahead, staring through the man as if he didn't exist.  "No, Blake, you 
have no right." 	
	"I.."  Blake's words were interrupted by Soolin's strained voice. 	
	"They've killed me already, Blake.  They killed me when they took my 
childhood memories and fears and used them as a knife to dissect my mind.  They 
killed me when they fed me lies to tell like a well-trained cipher."  She shook 
her head angrily.  "They killed me when they forced me to betray people whom I 
gave my allegiance to."  	
	The woman looked at Blake again.  "Answer me this, if I give you my life, 
will the Federation be stopped?" 	
	"Maybe,"  the former master of the Liberator replied, unwilling to give 
promises that he couldn't keep.  "They'll definitely be slowed.  Not even 
Servalan can handle rebellion in so many worlds." 	
	"I see,"  Soolin glanced away again, her decision had been made moments 
earlier.  She had wanted Blake's response to her question to judge the man by.  
"Then, my life for yours, Roj Blake.  You'd better make good use of it." 	
	Soolin broke away from Blake's grasp and walked forward toward the view 
screen of the Scorpio.  She looked out at the sparkling stars for a moment 
before the stars and the ship became only a faded dream. 

****  	

	"Today's the big day,"  Barnsley informed Soolin as he was retrieving her 
from the cell she was being kept in.  	
	Soolin looked at him, her eyes unfocused, dull.  At his gesture she stood 
up and began walking next to him.  Two black garbed Federation guards were in 
front of them, two behind. 	"Now, don't get nervous or anything,"  
Psychotechnician First Class Barnsley said, as much to his prize patient as to 
himself.  "It will be just like what you and Dr. Cransis have been practicing 
for the past few days.  You'll be asked a bunch of questions and then you'll 
give that speech we've been practicing.  Just keep calm and you'll do 
wonderfully."
	They entered the courtroom, a massive circular room, with a central stand 
for the prisoner.  The judges had a high bench several feet in front of the 
prisoner.  Circular rows spiraled out from behind the center, the ones nearest 
in reserved for high functionaries.  Supreme Commander Sleer and Admiral Hacken 
were in the first seats.  Several chairs farther down, Dr. Cransis sat. 
	Doctor Cransis shifted in her chair uncomfortably.  She'd been in this 
courtroom before, of course.  She'd had several other high ranking patients 
brought to trial, but this one was making her uncomfortable.  //Nonsense, 
Emli,// she chided herself.  //Nothing could possibly go wrong.  Soolin is fully 
prepared.  We have been over her confession a thousand times.  There are plenty 
of guards present so the odds of her disappearing like Avon did are nonexistent.  
What could possibly go wrong?//  She watched as Barnsley and the guards escorted 
Soolin into the room and deposited her at the center.  The guards stood nearby, 
adding an ominous presence to the proceedings.  Barnsley faded off to the side, 
a pack of medication, should his patient experience any difficulty, by his side.
	The judges entered the room, the audience stood.  There were three judges, 
all dressed in black robes.  They filed in, paused for a moment by their chairs 
and surveyed the room.  Then, as if on cue, they all sat.  The audience then 
sat.
	A man wearing a uniform bearing the patch of the Federation judicial 
branch stood and announced.  "Be it known to all, the High Court of the 
Federation is now in session."
	A woman, sitting at a bench to the left of Soolin stood.  She was also 
wearing the Federation judicial branch uniform.  She stood up and addressed the 
judges.  "Be it known to all, I represent the State in these affairs.  The 
Federation accuses the female known as Soolin of acts of sedition, treason, 
murder and rebellion against the lawful government.  I shall prove these charges 
against her." 	
	A man Soolin had never seen before then stood up.  "Be it known to all, I 
represent the defendant Soolin in these affairs."  He then sat down. 	
	The lead judge surveyed the courtroom for a moment.  It was filled with 
high ranking government officials.  It would be, he thought.  This will be quite 
a coup for Sleer, finally bringing one of those annoying rebels to trial.  
Fixing his gaze on Soolin, he asked, "How does the defendant plead to the 
charges brought against her?"
	Soolin stood, as she had been coached by Barnsley.  Her voice rang out 
through the courtroom, clear and sure of itself.  "I plead guilty to all charges 
brought against me."
	The judges nodded.  They had expected no less.  The rest of the trial was 
going to be a show, staged by the psychostrategists and put on for the benefit 
of the people.  The lead judge spoke again, "Very well, the state will present 
it's evidence against you so that your crimes will become public record.  You 
will then have a chance to speak.  Has this been explained to you?"
	The gunfighter stood once again and replied, "Yes, it has your honor."  
She then sat again, looking dully ahead.  Somewhere she seemed to remember 
someone saying something was going to happen but she couldn't remember what it 
was.  It seemed to her that it had been a good thing.

****

	"So when do you think it's going to happen?"  Vila asked.
	"I have no idea," Blake replied, trying to get more comfortable in the 
chair he was sitting in.  The conversation with Soolin had been very difficult.  
//How do you ask somebody to die for you?  What gives me the right?  She agreed, 
but what choice did she have?  What makes my life any more valuable than hers?//
	"Stop wallowing in guilt, Blake,"  Avon interrupted his thoughts.  
	"Is it that obvious?"
	"Yes," Avon and Vila both replied at once.  
	Blake smiled slightly at their chorus.  Then shook his head ruefully,  "I 
can't help it if I feel guilty."
	"Yes, you can,"  Avon retorted.  "You can stop thinking about it and start 
thinking about a working plan for the next quadrant we wish to free."  The dark 
haired man regarded his friend for a moment.  He was not entirely insensitive to 
what Blake was going through.  The same questions had occurred to him often 
enough in the past year.  He wondered if he should say something further.
	"You're right, as usual Avon.  Guilt is not going to help anyone, least of 
all Soolin."
	Vila nodded his agreement, putting his own sadness and guilt aside, and 
like Blake, turned his attention to a star cube Avon was busily highlighting.  
"Blake, when you're alive again, do you think you'll remember any of this?" the 
thief asked.  "Or do you think it'll fade like a dream?"  Looking up to see 
Blake's response, Vila was not entirely surprised to see the man gone.  He met 
Avon's eyes for a moment.  "Well, guess it's happened, then." 	
	"Yes, I suppose it has," the only living member of the crew of the Scorpio 
replied, turning his attention back to the plan he was devising. 

**** 	

	Barnsley tried to stretch discreetly in his chair.  The trial had been 
going on for hours now.  It was made even more boring by the fact that he, along 
with Dr. Cransis knew exactly what Soolin would say.  They were the only ones 
though, the rest of the people gathered in the courtroom did not know what would 
be said.  The prosecutor had presented witnesses, vid recordings and physical 
evidence for all of Soolin's crimes.  It had been interesting at first, though 
Barnsley knew about all of it, but it was becoming repetitious and dull.  
Besides that he was hungry and desperately had to go to the bathroom.  The 
psychotechnician checked the small readout of Soolin's vital signs again.  All 
indicators were where they should be.  Her body had responded perfectly to all 
the drugs.  Despite the long hours of the trial, his patient was still sitting 
straight up, her dull gaze focused on the prosecutor.  Barnsley shifted in the 
seat, fixing his body in a comfortable position.  His attention drifted off, 
ideas of what he'd do with his promotion filling his head.  The psychotechnician 
never noticed as Soolin's brain waves changed ever so slightly from those of a 
person in a stupor to those in a dream.
	"The prisoner may now speak,"  the head judge intoned, the sound of his 
voice startling Barnsley out of his reverie.  He hastily nudged Soolin to stand 
up.  It was show time.
	The blonde woman stood up and cast her gaze around the room, eyes resting 
briefly on Sleer.  Thinking of a young friend she'd once known, a friend named 
Dayna who had wanted nothing more than to have Sleer dead because the cruel 
bitch had shot her father, she gathered her thoughts.  She then straightened up 
and looked straight at the three judges.  "Your honors, I have heard the 
testimony and evidence presented against me by the prosecutor.  I have 
understood it fully and have nothing to refute.  As I have already declared, I 
am guilty of all crimes that I am charged with."  Soolin paused for a moment.  
She'd been reciting what Cransis and Barnsley had been pounding into her head 
for a week now.  "I am guilty," she repeated, "of nothing more than fighting for 
my survival.  I am guilty of nothing more than fighting for my basic rights to 
live my life without drugs or torture.  Guilty again because I tried to help 
those who were fighting for the same thing."
	The crowd in the courtroom focused their attention on the prisoner.  
They'd expected nothing but the usual speech of remorse and denouncement.  This 
was something new.  Some wondered what the psychostrategists had in mind.  
Others wondered if broadcasting the trial live was such a good idea after all.  
Soolin took a deep breath, she hadn't felt like herself in so long.  It was a 
good feeling, even if it was the last time. 
	"When I was a child I lived on a peaceful farming planet.  A planet given 
no notice until the Federation found something valuable on it.  Instead of 
negotiating with the residents of the planet for its resources they declared it 
an open world.   That declaration brought criminals, pirates, every sort of scum 
to a once tranquil planet.  The inhabitants had no way to fight this invasion, 
so they died.  Most of them anyway, my parents included.  But I survived and 
lived my life only to get revenge on the people that had murdered my family.  I 
became a gun for hire.  But I was wrong, the people truly responsible for my 
family's deaths and so much other destruction were not those criminals.  It was 
the government that allowed those criminals to rape my home world.  When I first 
met Kerr Avon and his band of rebels I wanted nothing to do with them.  I was a 
mercenary, they were revolutionaries.  I came to realize though that they were 
right.  A corrupt government can not be allowed to remain in power.   Their goal 
to bring down the Federation became my purpose in life."
	Pausing for a moment, to gather her thoughts again, she continued, "Again, 
I am guilty of everything you have said and I renounce nothing.  I reject none 
of it.  There is only one thing I must renounce and tell the truth about.  One 
thing above all others, that has effected the Federation.  There is a cancer at 
the core of the Federation.  Many have tried to remove it but it keeps coming 
back." 	
	Barnsley leaned forward and glanced at Dr. Cransis.  The psychostrategist 
was staring at Soolin in complete confusion.  //Guess Cransis didn't change the 
script when I wasn't looking, then,// he thought.  //Wonder what she's going to 
say?// 	
	"The disease that has been eating at the very core of the Federation is 
Servalan,"  Soolin's voice rang out through the courtroom.  The crowd was 
puzzled at her bringing up the name of a former Supreme Commander, now dead.  
People murmured to their neighbors, wondering where the speech was going.  	
	"Yes, Servalan, for Servalan is not dead as you've been led to believe.  
She is here among you and now calls herself Sleer." 	
	Sleer sat in her seat, not even breaking into a sweat.  Who would believe 
the ravings of an obviously drugged, mind-wiped rebel.  She whispered to her 
aide that they would be leaving.  She didn't have to sit and listen to this 
nonsense. 	
	"The prisoner will cease making wild accusations and stick to testimony 
relating to her crimes," the head judge intoned, trying to regain control of the 
trial. 	
	"She is right,"  Admiral Hetchen stood up from his seat in the row behind 
Servalan.   The rebellion in the outer worlds must be dealt with, he thought, 
not ignored.  Best to get rid of the bitch now and let the military get on with 
its business.  Public opinion would be against Sleer now.  "The prisoner is 
correct,"  he said more loudly.  "Sleer is Supreme Commander Servalan." 	
	The assembly gasped, people tried to get a better look at Sleer.  The 
woman stood, up, her black dressing flowing around her.  Her guards stood up 
with her, starting to clear a path out of the courtroom. 	
	Soolin wasn't entirely aware of the activity in the courtroom.  She only 
knew that there was something important she had to finish and that it wasn't 
done yet.  "Sleer is Servalan,"  she yelled out again.    "Her hired man, 
Travis, was responsible for allowing the Andromedans to invade.  She is 
responsible for the death of President Rostov and six high councilors.  She has 
gotten wealthy with illegal alliances.  She is responsible for the destruction 
of the planet Tabor as well as the death of the entire population of Auron.  She 
is in league with known criminals and president of the Terra Nostra.   Sleer is 
Servalan, she ..." 	
	Servalan watched as the crowd stared at her.  Hetchen's voice added to 
that of the rebel had damaged her severely.  The mention of the Terra Nostra was 
very damaging.  People were staring, suspicions aroused.  She took a gun from 
the holster of her guards.  Lifting the weapon, she aimed it at the still 
yelling rebel and fired.  

**** 

	"Hmm, what did you say?"  Roj Blake said groggily.  He tried to push 
himself up into a sitting position.
	"Lie back down,"  a woman's voice told him.  A hand appeared on his chest, 
forcing him back into the bed.
	Blake looked around.  He was in a bed in some sort of hospital.  There 
were machines all around him, some he noticed uncomfortably, connected to him.  
It was hard for him to concentrate, he couldn't remember ever arriving at this 
place.  "Where am I?"
	"Lindor.  I'm Doctor Willa and you're going to be just fine,"  the woman 
reassured him with a smile.  She touched a button next to his bed,  "Please 
inform the President that Blake has regained consciousness."
	"How did I get here?  I was talking to Avon just a moment ago.."  the 
rebel's words trailed off.
	"That conversation took place over sixty days ago.  You've been in 
cryogenic freeze."
	"I know, but where are Avon and Vila?"  Blake asked, trying to sift 
through rapidly fading memories of dreams.
	Doctor Willa looked at him for a moment then came to a decision.  "All 
right, I won't keep you waiting for an answer.  Do you remember being on Gauda 
Prime?"
	"Yes, of course I do."
	"Do you remember Avon and the rest of his band arriving?"  the woman 
asked. Blake nodded in response.  "Then you remember Avon shooting you?"
	"Yes, only.."  Blake couldn't remember what he was going to say next.
	"After you were shot the Federation raided your base.  Some of your people 
escaped."
	"What about Avon's people?  Vila?"
	"Del Tarrant and Dayna Mellanby were killed during the fight on Gauda 
Prime with the Federation.  Our contacts have told us that Vila Restal died 
under torture on Earth."  The doctor watched Blake's features shift from 
puzzlement to sadness.  "Soolin was put on trial and, we're still not sure 
exactly what happened, shot by Commander Sleer.  Communications have been 
difficult. It is hard to get any accurate information from Earth."
	"What about Avon?"
	"We're not sure.  The Federation did capture him on Gauda Prime but he was 
listed as missing some time after he was taken back to Federation Headquarters."
	"You said that communications have been difficult.  Are the planets that 
are free of Pylene-50 rebelling?  Were the people on Timus able to oust the 
Federation from their planet?"
	"Yes, they were.  Remarkable really, when you consider they had no trained 
militia,"  Doctor Willa responded, then she stopped and looked at Blake.  He had 
been in cryogenic freeze since Gauda Prime. 
	"How did I get here?"
	"A man named Pharamond brought you here.  You were in a cryo capsule.  He 
said that he was doing a favor for someone, wouldn't stay or give much 
information.  He said he got you out when things were in confusion at Federation 
Headquarters, after Soolin's trial." 	
	Blake nodded slightly.  The story of his escape made sense somehow.  
Someone had promised to take care of the transport.  	
	"How did you know about the rebellions?  They started after you were 
frozen,"  the Doctor asked, still puzzled. 	
	Roj Blake lay in his bed and smiled to himself before responding.  "Let's 
just say I had the most amazing dream."

**************

The End