Now, even if Security trace us to this planet,
they'll assume the ship crashed and we died in the explosion.
Did you hear what I said?
- Yes. - Well?
It's a very clever plan, sir.
I wish it were. Should've planned more carefully.
And don't call me "sir". You're not a slave anymore.
You're with me now. I set you free.
Yes.
Got to find somewhere to hide. Follow me.
No! Please!
{LASERONBLAST]
Why did you kill him?
That's no concern of yours. You've been paid.
- Not for this. - For whatever I choose.
You're a sad man, Travis. Life must have reverence.
Now, I want the other one.
No.
Get the other one.
- You know better than this. - Do I?
The Federation does not protect us out of altruism. They know our value and our threat.
- You flatter yourselves. - Do we?
- Where's Blake? - I have no idea. Why ask me?
- Because I thought you might know. - Well, I don't.
- He's gone to have a rest. - I see.
Orac has just come up with the computation and attack strategy that he asked for.
- What attack strategy? - Exactly.
Another of Blake's little schemes he hasn't thought fit to tell us about.
You are not going to believe the target he has in mind.
- The Federation Weapons Development Base? - That's right.
- He obviously thought fit to tell someone about it. - Well, not exactly. I suggested it to him.
You suggested it to him? That's very keen of you.
- Why didn't you suggest it to us? - Because I knew how you'd react.
Auron may be different, Cally,
but on Earth it is considered ill mannered to kill your friends while committing suicide.
Why that base, Cally?
Sooner or later, Blake is going to attack Federation Central Control on Earth itself.
Later. Much later.
- And alone, probably. - I doubt that.
- He wouldn't be alone if you just left him, Avon. - You would stay with him?
- Yes. - Virtually alone, then.
And for that attack we shall need all the weapons we can get.
And where better to get them than the Weapons Development Base?
According to Orac, almost anywhere.
- What do you suppose happened? - People must have left.
I can see that, but why did they leave?
This isn't a Federation colony planet, so who were they anyway?
- Perhaps they were free. - They probably were. So?
That's why they left.
Is there anyone there? Hello?
- They must have been free. - Well, at least we can hide here.
- Don't you see? - I should have known better.
A labour-grade slave. You're pathetic.
- Travis, you are pathetic. - If you say so.
- Of all the cripple-brained idiots. - Me or you?
- What did you say? - You're angry, Supreme Commander.
Surprised by what I did.
You devious...you always have been devious. You knew what would happen.
Take your hand off me.
You knew if it was Blake I'd kill him. I'd have to kill him.
You'll rot in a slave pit on Ursa Prime, Travis.
We didn't need two, but you insisted.
That's why: so you could test one of them on me. You used me like some automatic fault tracer.
And you functioned beautifully.
There are no faults. The remaining clone is perfect.
Even Blake himself couldn't tell the difference.
Our problem now is to persuade the Clonemasters to let us use him.
- And the slave pits? - When you're of no further use to me, Travis.
Honesty, at last. A mark of contempt?
Or respect. A man might see it as respect. You would have once.
- What do you think, Jenna? - I think the basic idea was stupid.
- No, the idea was logical enough. Jenna? - A lot more logical than this makes it seem.
- It is a triple-A security installation. - We have got into those before.
Usually with your screams of protest ringing in our ears.
Are you telling me that you're in favour of this idea?
No, not exactly, I just don't think it's stupid. Perhaps maybe I'm on your side, Cally.
It's not a question of sides, Vila.
No, it's a question of intelligence, so your opinion has very little relevance.
Blake, almost by definition, the Weapons Development Base
must be one of the best-defended installations in the Federation.
- Agreed. Even so. - Still doesn't explain this.
Here we are. He wasn't very happy at being interrupted.
I'll apologise later. Orac, your information on the Weapons Development Base is unsatisfactory.
- Define unsatisfactory. - I was about to.
Your strategic computations start from the premise that the base is on maximum security alert.
Computer communications traffic indicates that it is.
- Not permanently? - It is not a practice drill.
- So what is it? - Some occurrence which is a real or apparent threat.
Thank you, Orac. I'm sure we'd have never worked that out for ourselves.
It is therefore the case that security in the immediate future will be sensitive and alert.
A fact to be included in strategic computations. Moral:
- Never argue with a computer. - Right.
- What was the cause of the alert? - Obviously somebody broke in.
- Or out. - Which is it, Orac?
- That information is not immediately available. - Can you get it?
- It has no bearing on the problem. - Can you get it?
- Eventually. - How long is eventually?
It will reQuire time and resources far in excess of the value of the information.
Well, get it anyway. I want the reason for that alert.
Very well. I will report in due course.
That doesn't sound very promising. Someone must have made an attack on the base.
- Who'd be stupid enough to do that? - Justify "stupid".
I mean, they wouldn't have called a maximum alert if someone had just deserted.
- Zen, put the navigation computers online. - Confirmed. Computers online.
Assume a fugitive from the Weapons Base, and a stolen ship capable of one-man operation.
Assume no outside help. Where would he go?
Orac, I want a series of options rated according to probability.
Oh, and one more assumption: when he left, he took with him something secret and valuable.
So secret and so valuable, that the base went to maximum alert.
Rashel! Rashel, where are you?
- I'm here. - Don't wander off like that.
No, sir.
I think this was a mess room.
- We could be comfortable in here. - Filthy.
I'll clean it up. It'll be fine, you'll see.
Fine for you, maybe. Probably not much worse than what you're used to.
Please, rest. You're tired.
I'll make us some food. You'll feel better then.
I feel fine now! You dare treat me like a stupid child!
I'm sorry. I was just trying to please you, sir.
And don't call me "sir". That's what THEY always wanted.
"Yes, sir". "Of course, sir". "At once, sir".
They treat you like dirt, patronise you.
Doesn't really matter. You get used to it.
I mean, I didn't really care about that. Are you listening to me?
Yes, sir.
They were trying to take the credit for my work. They were going to steal it right in front of me.
As though I were so unimportant or stupid they didn't even have to pretend it wasn't happening.
That's what really made me angry, the contempt they had for me.
Well, they can think again now.
Just wait till senior echelon hears about this.
They'll remember my name then.
- When? - You don't hurry a Clonemaster.
- Out of respect, Supreme Commander? - They are a little awesome.
Reverence? I wouldn't have thought you capable of it.
I'm capable of taking the one thing you have left if you persist with your impertinence, Travis.
Myvisits to the retraining therapist have left me, I don't know.
Is there anything of value that remains to me?
- Blake's death. - I meant no impudence, Supreme Commander.
The Clonemasters are awesome, Travis, because they have ultimate power.
They can create life, and in whatever form they wish.
As can a number of Federation biologists even today.
Cloning's been known for centuries,
but was abandoned because it was inefficient and tended towards genetic stagnation.
- I fear you are both mistaken. - Clonemaster Fen.
Servalan. It was never abandoned, Travis.
The leaders feared its potential as a weapon. But a weapon once created cannot be abandoned.
It can only be contained. And so they entrusted it to us.
And we cannot create life in any form we wish. That would violate the Rule of Life.
Power usually makes its own rules.
My predecessor believed in the Rule of Life.
When the time came, a single cell was taken from her and stimulated into growth.
The child was identical in every way to the child that she had once been.
She brought it up, taught it, trained it so that when that child became a woman,
she not only looked like my predecessor, she thought like her.
And like her, I believe in the Rule of Life.
You were cloned. I did not realise that.
All the Clonemasters are themselves cloned.
All are identical to the original group that came to this planet.
And are trusted for the same reasons they were trusted.
Belief in the Rule of Life. What about an enemy who doesn't believe in it?
What's to stop him cloning a whole army of fanatics to move in against us?
Nothing. But if it happened the Rule of Life is clear. We would help you.
The weapon is ours, and safe because it guards itself.
Precisely so.
It responds to mood.
Whose in particular?
Like most of our city, this room lives;
a vegetable biologically adapted but living and growing,
and all life, Travis, is linked.
That is the basis of the Rule of Life.
Clonemaster Fen, I must ask you about Blake.
Master. Lady. Sir.
- He's very polite. - He is not a clone in the true sense.
- But he is a man? - Oh, yes, he is.
You sent us Blake's DNA identity profile.
We deduced a full genetic pattern and created this man, whole and adult as you see him.
Doesn't that violate your Rule of Life?
We may copy life. We may not create new forms.
This man is a copy of Blake, a physical copy only,
because he was not grown from a cell taken from Blake.
And since he has not Blake's experiences, he cannot be Blake.
We have given him some background knowledge,
the beginnings of identity, and the basis of understanding.
I see. What's your name?
Roj Blake. What's yours?
- How old are you? - Thirty-four.
- When were you born? - Five hours ago, Master.
Diverting idea. The Federation needs this man.
I know. That is why we agreed to create them.
Space Commander Travis bitterly regrets what happened.
It was the action of a dedicated officer taken by surprise.
Does he always kill when taken by surprise?
- Supreme Commander. - Forgive me.
What is it?
This just came in on the command ship security band.
Take one of the escort ships and get back to Headquarters immediately.
I want to know how this happened and why, Travis. And I want the man Coser found.
Right.
When I've dealt with this tiresome female, I'll follow.
I shall expect you to have the answers by the time I return. Now go.
Supreme Commander.
You are right, Clonemaster Fen. Travis' behaviour was unpardonable.
I have ordered him back to my headquarters
with instructions to place himself under arrest pending immediate court martial proceedings.
I trust this is in accordance with the Rule of Life.
You understand the Rule of Life, Servalan.
Almost as thoroughly as you understand trust.
So. Something called IMIPAK is missing, together with a Beta class weapons technician named Coser.
That IS what I said.
You also said the information would be virtually impossible to obtain.
It would have been, but I picked up a command ship security band for which you already have the code.
- Fortunate coincidence. - Not really.
When you obtained the code, you did instruct me to monitor command ship freQuencies,
and pass relevant data to the battle computers.
Do you know who the message was for?
No. It was a priority one, for automatic relay to the senior officer present.
Orac, I want more information.
I want to know everything there is to know about this man Coser;
I want to know how he got out of the base; and I want to know what IMIPAK is.
- I am unlikely to be able- - To be able to get that information, yes, I know.
Maybe you'll get lucky again.
There is no rational basis for the concept you call luck.
Oh, just get on with it.
Maybe IMIPAK is another Orac. If we captured it perhaps we could breed from them.
What a disgusting idea.
Well, despite Orac's lucky eavesdropping, we're not much wiser, are we?
Coser's only a Beta class weapons technician, so he's not important enough to have caused all this fuss.
So it must be IMIPAK.
And logically, IMIPAK must be a weapon and logically, Coser must have it.
But we're no closer to finding either of them.
All right, let's get closer.
Zen, what's the flight time to the maximum-security space zone?
Fifteen hours.
- If we're careful. - By all means, let's be careful.
- This place gives me the creeps. - It is very quiet.
Something wrong with it. Something here. Don't you feel it?
- No. - Listen.
- What is it? - Shhh. Listen.
- Did you hear it? Sort of slithering noise. - I can't hear anything.
- You think I'm imagining it, don't you? - Perhaps it was a rat.
- A rat? - Rats are very clever.
They go everywhere that people go. They're on all the colonised planets, did you know that?
I heard a freighter pilot telling someone about it. Oh dear.
What's the matter?
Bond slaves aren't supposed to listen to the conversations of the free grades.
- Not likely to report you, am I? - I'm sorry.
Still, I know what you mean.
Beta-grade technicians aren't supposed to be clever enough to develop a weapon like IMIPAK, onlyl did.
Were they going to punish you? A disobedient slave can be modified.
Did you hear it that time? It's coming from over there.
What are you doing? Don't do that! Rashel!
Rashel, come back here! Come back here, do you.. Rashel!
It must have been a rat.
- I'll kill you, do you hear? - Yes.
I'll kill you!
- Dead? - All dead.
Everyone connected with the project. And judging by what's left of them, he used IMIPAK to do it.
Well, that's some consolation, I suppose. At least we know it works.
- At the moment, that's all we do know. - What?
He destroyed all recorded data and took the prototype with him.
- And security? - Taken by surprise.
"Taken by surprise"?
It seems this man Coser is brighter than his grade classification would suggest.
- I assume the security commander is under arrest? - He was.
- "Was"? - He died, under interrogation.
- You said you wanted quick results! - Was he implicated?
- No. - Unfortunate.
- Why? - He might have told us where Coser is.
The computers have narrowed it down. There are only four planets he could have reached.
- That's not quite narrow enough, Travis. - I've assigned aerial survey teams.
We'll find his ship soon. And when we do, I shall need more men.
- Regular troops? - Yes, as many as possible.
To search for a dangerous psychopath with a highly effective secret weapon?
- Some losses are inevitable! - Losses?!?
- Travis, have you no sense of proportion at all? - What?
If he's cornered, he might destroy the weapon.
- I should have realised. - I don't find stupidity amusing, Travis.
- No. - Are we certain he wasn't met by any other ships?
As certain as we can be.
I've had the four planets seeded to make certain it doesn't happen now.
Not TOO obviously, I hope.
If there are others involved, I don't want them frightened off.
Small proximity mines in random orbit. Virtually undetectable until they explode.
Very well.
Keep me informed.
You do have Blake's clone, Supreme Commander?
Of course, Travis.
Well, if he's to be of any use to us, his training should begin as soon as possible.
- It already has, Travis. - Of course, Supreme Commander.
Send in Carnell.
Supreme Commander.
It's going wrong, Carnell.
Wrong?
Ma'am, I'm mortified by your lack of confidence.
If I lose Coser, and his invention, mortified is exactly what you'll be.
- I realise that. - So long as you do.
A brilliant psycho-strategist like me? Come now, Supreme Commander. How would I not?
- Carnell? - Yes, Supreme Commander?
You miscalculated Coser's breakdown.
He went a little sooner, that's all. The rest will be on schedule.
You'll get IMIPAK. And when you do, no one will realise you've got it,
because everyone else involved will either be dead or running away.
- Except you. - Should I be nervous?
Oh, you're the strategist, you tell me.
Zen's best guess is that he's here. Offers?
Let's go and get him.
- Gung ho. - You go and get him.
We're already too close to the security zone for my taste.
Jenna?
If we know he's there, chances are Federation Security know it, too.
Zen may have been wrong.
- In which case going there would be safe but pointless. - Now that I wouldn't object to.
- Be quiet, Vila. - Why ask my opinion in the first place?
- Actually, nobody did. - That's the last time I stand up for you.
- Avon? - I think we should go and get him.
Always assuming that he is there, and Federation Security are not.
- Gung ho? - We do not know what IMIPAK is.
Exactly. The least we've got to do is find out what it does.
- Why have we? I can live without it. - It's just conceivable that you can't.
Unless of course you want your last words to be, "So THAT'S IMIPAK...".
I think my brain must be furring up.
IMIPAK might be something they can use against us, Vila.
- Only if it can run faster than we can. - Jenna, set a course for that planet.
- I already have. - Zen, put the battle computers online.
- Confirmed. - Full range on the detectors, constant scan.
- Absolutely. - Let's see what we're going to do when we get there.
{COMMUNICATORCHIME]
- Yes, Travis? - We found his ship, it looks to have crashed and blown up.
Wait. Carnell?
It's a ruse. He landed first, then blew up the ship.
Leaving himself no means of escape?
- Guilt. Symbolic suicide. - What?
It fits his personality. Checkmate.
Six times in a row I've beaten it. Supposed to be the best chess computer available.
Cost me a fortune.
I don't suppose you'd care to discuss my fee at this particular point, would you?
- No. - Oh.
Why are you so certain he isn't dead?
He's too good a pilot to have lost control that close to the ground.
- You don't know how close to the ground he was. - They identified the remains of the ship
If he'd lost it in the descent from primary orbit,
there'd be nothing left to find, let alone identify.
Therefore, he was close and slow when it happened. Therefore, it didn't happen.
- You're very plausible. - I'm very good, Supreme Commander, believe me.
I've taken everyone and everything into consideration.
It's all as predictable as that very expensive chess machine.
Travis, I want three pursuit ships ready for immediate launch.
And I want all in the vicinity of that planet recalled.
- Recalled? - That's what I said.
- May I ask why? - No, you may not.
You'd better be right.
By now Coser is completely psychotic.
It won't strike him as remotely odd that a folk hero he admires so much arrives out of nowhere.
And when a second Blake turns up, he probably won't even notice.
He's a sick man. He shouldn't be totally alone as he is. It's awfully bad for his health.
- What? What's the matter? - Shhh. Listen.
{ANIMALNOISES]
One of your clever rats wasn't clever enough.
What do you think's out there?
How should I know? I don't care as long as it stays there.
{DEEPANIMALGROWLING]
Listen.
Look!
Quiet!
- Is it gone? - Listen.
Quickly!
Supreme Commander?
Almost the only thing I never find boring: contemplating the infinite.
- Is there something I can do for you? - I was to report to the Supreme Commander, sir.
Too late, I fear. She's already on her way.
"To what?" do I hear you ask?
- No, sir. - Excellent. It was a trick question.
Always remember, the Officer Corps will forgive anything it can understand.
Which makes intelligence about the only sin.
Have I your leave to go, sir?
Why did you want to see the Supreme Commander? Or am I being indiscreet?
I have a report for her.
It's confidential.
From an official psycho-strategist?
You're a Puppeteer?
Do they still call us that? I never really felt that did me justice.
My apologies, sir; I meant no offence.
- I was offensive. Why shouldn't you be? - Sir?
Give me the report.
- Do you play chess? - A little, sir.
- Take it, it's yours. - Thank you, sir.
A small return for saving my life. But then it's alll own.
You have my leave to go now.
And the other mistake I made was not getting an advance on my fee.
- Here, wake up. - What is it? Has it gone?
Nocturnal predator. Seems to have gone.
Help me with this.
Not too far, just in case. Get ready to shove it closed again.
Ready.
- It's gone. - I wonder what it was?
I think I'd rather not know.
Coser! Coser, help me!
Still! Keep still! Keep flat and still!
{TARGETINGSIGNAL]
It's still alive!
I haven't told it it's dead yet.
{HIGH-PITCHEDWHINE]
What do you think of that? Not bad, Coser, not bad. For a Beta grade, not bad.
I invented that death. It's called IMIPAK.
This time, I'll pick the place. Somewhere with a strong door.
Perhaps that creature drove the people away.
I doubt it. Raw materials ran out more like.
- Perhaps that was the only one. - Perhaps! Just get on with it, will you?!
Stop treating me like a bond slave! You set me free.
Coser.
I am not armed.
I know you. You're Blake. Blake!
Thank you, but I know I am. Who are you?
I'm Coser, my name's Coser. I'm glad you're here.
I'm so glad you're here! I've brought something for you, something to help you.
- How did you find us? - A gun?
Not just a gun, IMIPAK: Induced Molecular Instability Projector and Key.
- What does it do? - It kills.
- Shut up! Will you shut up?! - How does it kill?
This is the projector. It'll work on anything living.
All life is linked.
You use it like a gun and it projects a potential,
an unstable molecular potential in the part of the victim that you hit.
The beauty of it is that unless they see you do it,
or you tell them you've done it, they don't even know it's happened.
- And that kills them? - This, this kills them
This is the key.
When they're in range of this and you press that, it triggers the unstable molecules.
- Death at the press of a button. - I see.
What do you mean, "you see"? Aren't you impressed?
Look, once you hit them with this, there's nothing they can do to remove the spot.
It's there for as long as they live. And YOU decide how long that is.
This has a range of up to a million miles. Just think of it! You set the range here.
If he's within a million miles, you can kill a marked man anytime you want without even seeing him again.
Or you can leave a whole series of these in various places
ready-triggered and he'll kill himself whenever he comes within range of one.
Or you can tell him they're there
and you can be certain he'll never go where you don't want him to go.
Selected victims, groups, whole populations. You can be like God.
A lofty ambition. Thank you.
You betrayed me.
Blake is a reformed character. There are only two traitors here.
Down and safe. Keep in contact, right?
- Be careful, remember he's armed. - If he's here.
His ship came down within walking distance of the only buildings on the planet. He's here all right.
- I think he's crashed. - Don't think; let's search.
- Are the guards in clear view? - Three of them, as you ordered, Supreme Commander.
- And the fourth is concealed? - With instructions to report back what he sees.
- What exactly do you expect him to see? - All in good time, Travis.
Coser.
{TARGETINGSIGNAL]
No.
- Let's see, the range would be about eight feet. - No.
- No, let's make it four. - No.
Not quite within range.
No! Please! Please! I didn't mean it!
{HIGH-PITCHEDWHINE]
Very effective weapon.
{TARGETINGSIGNAL]
Good thing his ambitions were small. What about the girl?
No! All life must have reverence.
- I knew that Clonemaster wasn't to be trusted. - It's all right.
Take her to another room. Keep her there untill send for you.
Why? What are you waiting for?
Down, Gan!
Thanks.
{TARGETINGSIGNAL]
Blake! How did he get here?
Orac picked up the original message to our command ship.
- This is what you were waiting for. - Mark them, Travis
We'll kill them at our leisure.
Travis, when you know an enemy's strengths,
and can use them against them, they become weaknesses.
Show me.
I may not kill you after all, Carnell.
{TARGETINGSIGNAL]
Guard?
Over there.
Quite still!
Put that on the floor. Carefully.
I was beginning to think you'd never get here.
My apologies, Supreme Commander. The invitation was just a little vague.
They're too confident, Blake. This looks like some kind of a trap.
Let's kill the bait and get out of here.
Oh, it's not a trap.
At least, not in the way you mean. We are the only people on the planet.
- The ship? - No one is attacking your ship.
- You believe her? - What sort of trap is it, then?
Guard.
{HIGH-PITCHEDWHINE]
That sort. He was marked for death, as you three have been, with that gun.
Leave it. You're in range now. I press this, and you're all like him.
- Is she bluffing? - She's not bluffing, is she, Travis?
- Do something reckless and find out. - Well now, I might just blow your head off.
How would you like to die, too, Supreme Commander?
IMIPAK gives me the edge, Blake.
You know it does. But if you want to throw away your only chance.
- What chance? - The chance to run.
I'm not sure exactly how far the range on this is.
It's long, but you might outrun the signal. Now, I'm prepared to give you a small start.
- Why? - Research?
Get us out of here, Vila.
- Why let them go? - Everyone will assume they have taken IMIPAK.
- Taken IMIPAK but... - But I've got it. Exactly
And I haven't let them go. I'm allowing Blake time to give his final order:
a partial orbit, which will ensure that our ships witness the Liberator's escape.
When he's done that, you can kill him.
It was a standoff. We should have stayed! Move it Jenna, get out us of here.
- No. - What?
Partial orbit, Jenna, fast. Put the planet between us and that installation.
She would never have let us go if we could directly outrun that signal.
Our only chance is to use the planet as a shield.
Orbit underway. Standard by Two and building.
It will have to be a very primitive signal, Blake, for this to work.
I said it was our only chance. I did not say it was a good one! Time to partial orbit?
Three minutes.
That should be long enough, I think. All right, Travis, your time has come.
Enjoy it. It's what you've waited for.
- Partial orbit in one minute. - We're going to make it; we're going to make it!
{EXPLOSION]
No. Don't press it. You're both marked.
Please don't do that.
The planet has been seeded with small proximity mines in random orbit.
Detection was too late for warning to be given.
- Damage? - Damage was minor. Power build-up continues.
- We're below horizon now. - Then she's lost!
- Only us. She got what she really wanted. - I thought that was us.
IMIPAK. And she beat us to that all right. She seemed to know every move we were making.
It's almost as if we were on strings and she was the puppeteer.
What is IMIPAK? Is there a defence against it?
Detectors report two Federation pursuit ships leaving stationary orbit on intercept course.
Take us out of here, Jenna. Speed Standard by Eight.
I want a lot of space between us and that planet.
Is there a defence against IMIPAK?
Of course there is. It's called slavery.
You can go now. There's nothing for you here.
I'll see you never leave this planet.
I know. But make sure you do it from at least a million miles away.
And don't send anyone to look for us.
She won't. There'd be too many questions.
And besides, she can't afford for this to fall into anyone else's hands.
- The weapon guards itself. - Thank you, Travis.
I was merely quoting you, Supreme Commander.
Contact the ship. I have an appointment with a man named Carnell.
My compliments.
- Is there anything for us here? - Yes. We're free.
- Can we survive-alone? - There's a subspace communicator somewhere here.
We must get a message to Blake, and tell him he's free, too.
Let me do that.
Then we could start to explore our planet.
- Gone? - Yes. He left a message for you, Supreme Commander.
It's on channel twelve.
Welcome back, Supreme Commander.
I apologise for not being here in person to greet you, but I think you'll appreciate my reasons.
I overlooked the girl. Well, to be fair to myself, your people overlooked her.
I know she was only a bond slave,
but they should have realised she was gone rather sooner than they did.
I might have adapted the strategy. Ah well, even a genius can make mistakes.
Look at it this way, Supreme Commander, you haven't lost anything.
Whereas I, well, I've lost my career, my position, the respect of my peers.
Come to think of it, I haven't lost much, either.
On the subject of losers, be careful of Travis.
The catharsis he got by killing that first clone will have worn off by now.
He's as mad as ever he was.
But then, aren't we all?
One last thing, Supreme Commander. I must tell you this.
You are undoubtedly the sexiest officer I have ever known.
Goodbye, Servalan.