This started on a Blake's 7 mailing list. Someone suggested that all crewmembers had an identifying tattoo on the left buttock known only to fellow crew, in case of impersonation by clones, androids, or others. Someone else thought it might get in the way of the treasure map. Marian pointed out that treasure maps were frequently split into sections and parcelled out among the crew, so that they needed to compare all the bits. So I wrote and posted this:
Part 1: A nameless and cold planet
"All right," Blake said. "We have to check the maps again. Everyone down trou, line up in the right order, and bend over."
"It's a bit nippy out," said Vila, understating it for once. "And we've covered my butt...bit, I mean. We're up to Avon now."
"Come on. All of you," Blake said sternly.
"Including you?" Avon asked silkily. Neither he nor Vila complied, though Vila was entranced by Cally and Jenna's portions of the map rather than attempting to maintain the shreds of his dignity like Avon.
"Yes, including me," Blake growled. He carefully positioned a mirror on a nearby rock. "All of us, now."
The crew lined up in the correct order, bent over and peered between their legs at the mirror which reflected the combined map in its correct orientation.
"It's no good," Avon said at last. "We've gone in a circle and we're back at me again."
"We haven't even seen Jenna's hills," Vila complained.
Blake sighed. "Doesn't anyone remember Gan's map?"
They all straightened, put their maps away, and shook their heads.
"And what makes you think any of us saw it?" Avon asked acidly.
"He was a lifetime monogamist," Jenna said, a little regretfully.
"It seemed a good idea at the time," Blake said. "Hiding half the contents of the treasure room so that we'd need us all to get them back."
"Yes," said Avon, thinking of the number of times he'd saved Blake's life, and that time on Horizon he'd come back for them all. Damn damn damn.
Then Marian wrote:
Part 2: What happened to Gan's map
"No, you can not have the head! I need it to complete the display in the Grand Dining Room!" With a final flick of her egret feather boa, Servalan flounced out of the room.
"It's always the leavings for me," Travis grumbled as he directed the morgue attendant to formally identify the body for purposes of claiming the reward. "Go on, finish stripping him. Here, I'll lend a hand." Travis reached out and flipped Gan's corpse over. "Hmm...that's interesting...and I was needing a new billfold."
*******
"I'll just be a moment," Avon said. "Take care of Blake." He stared down into the energy whirlpool.
"Travis is dead," Cally said.
"Yes, well, this time I am going to make sure." He went to the nearest console, and hit 'reverse'. The whirlpool inverted with a loud blarp and spat Travis's singed body out.
Avon knelt over the corpse and went through the pockets. "Souvenir," he said, much to Cally's disgust. Cally turned her back and missed seeing Avon's look of startled delight mingled with revulsion. He pinched his prize fastidiously between his first and second fingers, and slipped it into his own pocket.
He had already seduced and secretly photographed Jenna and Cally, hoping to convince Orac to recreate the missing map by inference, but Orac insisted on more data which Avon was reluctant to obtain. He sighed. No more procrastinating. As soon as they were well away from the Andromedan space fleet he would deal with Blake and Vila.
Vila first, just in case he finally did get up the nerve to leave the ship.
He'd have plenty of time to take care of Blake. Nothing would get Blake off the Liberator.
So it was the treasure Avon was after at Terminal. No wonder he wanted to get Blake back to the Liberator and well enough to take off life-support and strip and flip. But what about what happened at Gauda Prime? So I wrote:
Part 3: Gauda Prime
Avon's brain raced. So Blake had sold them all? He could guess who the buyer was. Servalan must have had Blake in her hands to copy him so accurately back there on Terminal, and she probably had his map too. She had had the opportunity to copy Gan's and Cally's from their corpses, and possibly Jenna's as well. He and Vila would complete the set with the rest of the crew bundled in as extras.
He fired.
Come to think of it, Servalan probably had Vila's map too, from the smug look he had on his face when he got back from Sardos.
He fired again.
Perhaps she'd thought Tarrant had one, back there on Virn.
He fired once more.
"Avon..." Blake collapsed. He lay there, his eyes staring up blankly in surprise. It was only after everyone else had fallen and the Federation troopers had surrounded them both that it became quiet enough for him to speak. "You stupid bastard," he said out of the corner of his mouth, "you were supposed to use that on them."
Avon gaped down at him.
"Well, go on then," Blake said. "The vistape's still recording."
Avon shrugged and fired at the troopers who fired back. He staggered under the impact of multiple hits.
"Don't over-act," Blake said. "But then, who am I talking to?" he muttered to himself. He sighed. "Just play dead, Avon."
Avon, seeing a blotch of red on a wall where one of his shots had gone wide, finally realised what was going on, arched his back, twisted, and fell dramatically and gracefully across Blake.
There was silence.
"Isn't anyone going to say 'cut'?" one of the troopers asked plaintively.
"Deva's supposed to."
"Deva's out cold. I think Arlen shot him," someone else said. "Cut!"
"Ah." Blake sat up. "I forgot about Arlen. Tie her up, someone. It was lucky all the guns in the base were on stun or she might have done some damage. And well done for knocking her out, Vila."
Vila opened an eye cautiously and saw the blotch on the wall. "Hey! Paint-ball wars!" he said excitedly. His face fell. "And I missed all the fun!"
Avon stood up and shoved his shotgun in Blake's face. "Explain."
Blake winced. "Don't. Those things hurt at close range. All right, I did set it all up. But I didn't want you killing any of my rebels acting as troopers, so I left a paint gun out for you. I knew you had a thing for large weapons and wouldn't be able to resist." He glared. "You weren't supposed to shoot me with the damned thing."
"It worked well though," Klyn said, coming in. "I was watching. Blake looked so shocked, everyone will believe it's real."
"Good. Is it recording stills of us all on the floor?"
Klyn nodded.
"All right you lot. Bring the real troopers' bodies in and set the fire. We'll all soon be officially dead and free." Blake looked at Avon, his eye hurt again. "Just what were you playing at? I was waiting for you so you'd be included, for old times' sake. I thought you'd have been glad to see me too."
"A certain part of your anatomy perhaps," Avon said.
Blake raised an eyebrow, then realised. "Ah, the map."
"Oh, now look—" said Vila.
"Precisely." Avon smiled. Blake began to laugh.
"That does it," Vila said resentfully. "It's humiliating enough being beaten at strip poker just so Avon can take a peek, but you too?" He grabbed Klyn's arm. "Have you got a photocopier?"
Blake threw back his head and roared. Avon stared.
Vila returned very quickly with an amused-looking Klyn and two sheets of paper. "Here you are. One each. And that's it. I've had it with you lot."
Blake wiped his eyes. "Oh, Avon. You came here for my map?"
"What of it?"
"Avon, Avon. Zen's medical computer burned them on us, so Zen had a master copy, which means Orac must have too, as he could read Zen. Where is Orac?"
Vila brightened. "I'll go and get him. And you're welcome to both of them."
Avon blinked rapidly as if he had something in his eye. "If Orac knew, then what exactly was that pathetic little charade on that inhospitable planet?"
Blake smiled quizzically.
Ah. Of course. To ensure he had done just what he had. Stayed to the bitter end (so to speak) and protected the hides of the others.
"And by the way, I got the treasure long ago," Blake said. "How d'you think I paid for all this?" He waved his arms extravagantly.
Avon began to cry.
The end