Waste of time.
Shut up, Lye.
Ceremonial duty...
If you don't shut up, we won't be guarding a court martial,
we'll be having one.
I joined up to see some action.
More fool you.
- You've been on campaigns, Par. - I have.
- Done a lot of killing. - Enough. More.
- It should embarrass her at the very least. - Watch it!
Oh, I hope so, but, uh, she doesn't embarrass easily,
especially not in her own headquarters.
- Oh, I meant politically, of course. - Of course.
Any attempt to embarrass her personally is an exercise in total futility.
Oh, quite. She has all the sensitive delicacy of a plasma bolt.
Well?
Sir, security area, sir. Access is voiceprint linked, sir.
I am Secretary Rontane, personal representative of the President.
Senator Bercol. Head of the Information Bureau.
Ex-officio member of the High Council.
Thought he was going to run for it.
Pity he didn't. You could have shot him.
A top politico?
Don't worry about them. Space Command runs the Federation.
Reckon so?
Know so. And we look after ourselves.
Tell that to the prisoner.
- Broke the rules, didn't he? - Whose rules?
Only ones that matter: ours. Blazin' 'ell, look at this!
Samor, Fleet Warden General, appointed pro tem military arbiter.
Old Star Killer.
I never thought I'd see him in the flesh. Hasn't left his flagship in years.
Arbiter in a cruddy court martial.
Be by the book. I told you, we look after ourselves.
Yes, Samor is a difficult man.
Most of the time I'm more than happy to see him stay with his beloved Galactic Eighth Fleet.
On his highly polished flagship.
He's well respected throughout the service.
"Old Star Killer" has earned that respect
through a lifetime's devotion to his duty and to his men.
A rulebook officer of the old school.
Exactly. With him as arbiter a guiltyverdict will not be questioned and the matter will be settled.
Assuming that is the verdict.
{COMMUNICATOR CHIME]
Yes?
The tribunal is assembling, Supreme Commander. The arbiter is present.
Very well. The evidence is straightforward.
I can see no reason why we shouldn't get the verdict we want, in the way that we want it.
No, neither can I, Supreme Commander.
- And I expect no trouble from the defence. - None.
Prisoner and escort, reporting as ordered. Quick march!
- I report for judgment, sir. - Identify yourself.
Travis, Space Commander. Alpha-15105.
So recognised. You may stand at ease.
Do you accept the authority of the Arbiter,
the balance of the judgment program, and the competence of the defending officer?
I do.
Specify the indictment.
Space Commander Travis, you are charged under Section Three of the War Crimes Statute Code, Jenkin One,
with the murder of one thousand four hundred and seventeen unarmed civilians on the planet Serkasta,
Date Code Beta-2001.
How do you answer the charge?
I am not guilty.
Be seated.
Major Thania, does the defence have an opening declaration?
We reserve our opening declaration, sir.
Very well. Enter prosecution data.
Prosecution data begins. Identities and death certifications of all victims are entered.
- Objection. - Hold.
Holding.
Defence requests the names of the alleged victims and the cause of death in each case be specified.
- All of them? - If it pleases the arbiter.
Do you realise how long that will take, Major?
- A man's life is at stake, sir. - I KNOW what is at stake.
My apologies, sir. I meant no disrespect.
Since you have at your disposal instant recall of all prosecution data
I fail to see what purpose will be served
by having the computer intone a catalogue of one thousand corpses.
I may wish to challenge elements of that catalogue before they are entered in the judgment program, sir.
Playing for time?
And playing for Servalan.
The computer will find Travis guilty, there's no doubt of that,
but those three are responsible for the sentence.
So?
So, after hearing all the blood-spattered details,
they'llvote for the maximum penalty.
Motion sustained.
Victims names and causes of death will be specified.
Do you think that Travis knows what she's doing to him?
A psychotic like Travis? Who can tell what he's thinking?
Zen, give me stationary orbit, teleport range, somewhere in the temperate zone.
Confirmed. Do you reQuire detailed sensor readings?
No. I asked for tolerable conditions. I assume that's what you've given me.
Confirmed. The gravitational anomalies may affect movement.
And uninhabited.
The navigation computers list it as such.
That's good enough.
Really? It sounds a little casual to me.
I'm going down on my own, Avon. It has nothing to do with you.
Nothing at all, but it occurs to me that if you should run into trouble,
one of your followers, one of your three remaining followers,
might have to risk his neck to rescue you.
Then you must advise them against that, Avon.
Oh, I will.
They might even listen to you this time.
Why not? After all, I don't get them killed.
True.
Stationary orbit established. Status is firm.
All systems are functioning normally.
- All right, Zen, you know what to do. - Confirmed.
Blake?
It's getting worse for him, isn't it?
- Guilt does that. - What would you know about guilt?
Only what I've read. Your move, I think.
Everything set, Cally?
Yes. You've forgotten your gun.
What? I won't need it. There's no one down there.
There may be some kind of life form.
No, it doesn't matter.
- I will get you a gun. - All right, thank you.
Orac.
Orac, give it five seconds, then operate the teleport.
{LOCATOR BEACON]
What was all that about?
I think Orac altered the teleport coordinates.
You THINK?
Well, there's no way of telling. He zeroed the controls.
Our orbit's shifting.
Shifting? What do you mean shifting? Are we in trouble again?
Zen?
New orbit will be established in six minutes, as instructed.
Instructed? By whom?
Blake. He's making sure that we can't find him. He could be running out on us.
Hearing will reconvene at 09:00. Return the prisoner to detention.
Prisoner, about turn. Quick march.
- One almost has to admire that woman. - What, Thania?
- Servalan. - Oh.
We know that she's sending Travis to his death in order to keep his mouth shut,
but she is doing it with such an impeccably honest and painstaking tribunal
that her real motives can't even be hinted at.
Has a date been set for the Blake inquiry?
Does it matter? Without Travis' evidence,
the mishandling of the Blake affair becomes a matter of conjecture.
The inquiry becomes a formality.
A Presidential stay of execution so that Travis can give evidence?
After this, he should be more than willing.
After this he'll be a convicted mass murderer.
It could still damage Servalan. 'Slime sticks', as the old saying has it.
Yes, but the President can't be seen to throw it.
- Servalan picked Travis. - The President picked Servalan.
So she's outmanoeuvred us once again.
Let's say she's outmanoeuvring us, but it's not over yet.
She could still make a mistake.
Which is presumably why we came. I was beginning to wonder.
We came, Bercol, because Servalan's ambitions threaten us all.
And the President particularly dislikes being threatened. Shall we dine?
I wish I'd known that this was going to drag on so. I'd have brought my own chef.
As I recall, Space Command's cuisine is appalling.
Pathetic!
{POWER DOWN]
Send her in.
Thania.
How was the first day?
- More or less as expected. - So?
Travis is behaving oddly.
Three years ago, he committed a capital crime.
Justice has finally caught up with him. How would you expect him to behave?
I wouldn't expect him to sit staring straight-ahead, not moving, not reacting.
Not even listening.
That's it. That's exactly how he was, Supreme Commander.
Has someone else remarked on it?
The Guard Commander's report mentioned something.
It's almost as though he were drugged.
No, of course not. Risk a mistrial?
Then what?
You're representing him. You'd better find out.
I don't want any doubts about the conduct of this tribunal.
Any doubts at all.
And Thania, try not to let Travis guess your motives.
He's probably mad, but he certainly isn't a fool.
If he was going to desert us, surely he'd have chosen somewhere special.
Right! Paradise that is not.
Perhaps Blake knows something that we don't.
There aren't even any people down there.
So it has at least one aspect of paradise.
Would you maroon yourself on that planet?
We don't know that he is marooned. He could have a ship waiting.
Oh, come on, Avon. You don't really believe that.
- I wish Gan was here. - Oh, yes, of course.
He would be able to work out exactly what was going on.
- Maybe he would. - Why do you say that, Vila?
He was straightforward, wasn't always expecting to be cheated and double-crossed, not like us.
- He trusted people, he trusted Blake completely. - Much good it did him.
Welcome back to reality, Jenna.
- You think he is double-crossing us, Jenna? - I don't know.
But you're right about one thing; I'm not like Gan.
I don't trust unless I'm trusted in return.
- What do you think we should do then? - Suggest something.
Well now. I find the idea of being wealthy rather appealing.
Leave?
I don't see much prospect of getting rich around here.
It certainly looks as though Blake's left us, doesn't it?
That is the only reasonable assumption that we can make.
- So we've got to look out for ourselves now. - Exactly.
- Blake can't complain really. - Hardly, since he's not here.
No, I mean it's not as though we haven't done our share for freedom and all that.
More than our share.
You two make me sick. Are we going to get out of here or aren't we?
Orac, do you know what Blake is doing?
- Of course I do. - Then tell us.
Without the correct data recall code, that information is not available.
Data recall code, Avon?
He's even put a secret classification code on what he's doing.
Yes, but why did he code it and how?
Vila, if Gan was here, what would he have asked Orac?
Something obvious: did Blake leave us any message?
Thank you.
I must confess, I wasn't sure whether you'd trust me.
or even care enough to ask if there was a message.
In your place I'd probably have just said I don't give a damn and cleared off.
I think, well, that's just it, I need time to think.
We all do. That's what all this is about.
I must apologise for the somewhat dramatic exit.
I had to stop myself coming back.
At least until we've made some decisions, you and I.
I took one hell of a risk with your lives when I went ahead with the attack on Central Control.
I thought it was justified, I thought we had a chance to win.
And I was wrong. Completely, utterly, stupidly wrong.
I noticed that.
I almost killed you all. I did kill Gan.
For nothing: an empty room, a trick, an illusion.
Now I find myself wondering if that's what it's been all along: just a dream.
I don't know any more.
I don't know whether we should go on,
whether you would even supposing I could ask you to.
So, that is what we've got to decide, you and I: where do we go from here?
So that is what we have got to decide, is it?
I'm taking a homing beacon down with me.
It will start to transmit in thirteen hours.
The detectors should be able to locate it and guide the ship to the rendezvous.
It's an automatic beacon.
I shall leave it on the ground when I land and make my way back to it with a hand detector.
It seems more fitting somehow.
Besides, if either of us chooses not to keep the rendezvous,
then we needn't think too badly of each other.
Maybe the detectors failed.
He really cares about us, doesn't he?
- You swallowed that? - You think he was faking it?
Everything but the self-pity. That was real enough.
You're wrong.
Jenna?
Which only leaves one question to be answered.
Is it that Blake has a genius for leadership,
or merely that you have a genius for being led?
HEY!
Who is it?
Do you remember me, sir?
Par. What are you doing here, Trooper?
I'm off duty, sir.
Well, I'm not. I gather you're tired of your freedom.
I'm a twenty-year man, sir.
I wouldn't recognise freedom if I fell over it.
There's a temporary fault on surveillance. Guard's a friend of mine.
- Stand to attention when you talk to me. - Sir.
- I'm putting you and your friend on report. - Only trying to help, sir.
Help? And how do you think you can help me, Trooper?
Brought you something, sir.
Open it.
That's good stuff, sir. You won't go blind drinking that.
All right, Par. What have I done to deserve this?
Sir?
Faithful trooper, beloved officer, not quite how I see either of us.
You always looked after your men, sir. Now you're gonna die.
We thought a drink was the least we could do, sir.
Stand at ease.
Have one with me.
Thank you, sir.
That is good stuff.
You can go now, Par.
- Oh, sir? - Par?
The report, sir?
No one would believe it.
Any more than I do.
- Did you give it to him? - Yes, Major.
- I appreciate it. - With respect, Major, I didn't do it for you.
You served a full tour with Space Commander Travis, didn't you?
- Five years. He was hard. - But fair.
No, not often, anyway.
But you could always rely on him not to get you killed unnecessarily.
He never wasted troopers.
Oh, that's something, I suppose.
Major, when you're up to your neck in slime and lasers, that's everything.
- All right, Par. - Major.
Trooper Par? Do you think he's guilty?
No doubt about it, Major.
He gave the order. We just did the shooting.
{SPLASH]
Come in, Thania. I've been expecting you.
I thought you were asleep.
What is it you want to ask me?
- Is there anything you need? - You lack subtlety, Major.
- What are you suggesting, Travis? - Get out.
- Look. - GET OUT!
WHAT are you?
{ALIEN CHATTERING]
Well, if that's your only way of communicating I can't see us having much of a conversation.
Why did you stop? Why did you stop?
Why did you run?
Movement is life. To stop is to lose yourself and be absorbed.
Is it that you are ready to be absorbed? Is Oneness already a burden?
No, I don't understand what you mean.
You are newly hatched. Zil saw you come to Oneness.
But your movement was slow. Zil risked Oneness to waken you.
What are you?
My Oneness is Zil. What is yours?
I'm called Blake.
Come, Blake. Keep distant. Zil and Blake must be alone to live.
No, wait. Zil!
The Host stirs.
I have already programmed an automatic search pattern for the homing beacon.
- You don't mind if I check it? - I'd be disappointed if you didn't.
What are you doing?
It's a detector shield. I've been working on it for some time.
Everyone should have a hobby. What's it do?
It should keep us off everything but the Federation's close range visual scanners.
You mean their long-range detectors won't pick us up at all?
But that's brilliant, Avon, absolutely brilliant. It'll never work.
There's only one way to find out.
I'm sure Blake will find us something suitable to attack.
I see. You've decided to be led like the rest of us.
I shall continue to follow. It's not quite the same thing.
- I don't see the difference. - I didn't really think that you would.
Do you want to tell me why you've left most of the southern hemisphere off the search pattern?
I don't believe that Blake can think and swim at the same time. It's nothing but ocean down there.
Zil, where are you?
You have stopped again.
Is Blake afraid to be alone? All must stay alone or wake the Host.
You took something from me, something that I need.
Now, Zil, what have you done with it?
Blake will be lost to you unless Zil can explain.
But, but how? How to explain what Blake is?
Well, tell me what Zil is.
Zil is my Oneness. Alone.
Zil is my waking, as Blake is your waking.
You mean we live?
Everything lives. The Host lives.
To live is not enough for Blake and Zil. Blake and Zil woke.
The waking must not be feared or you will lose it and Blake will be absorbed.
To live is not enough?
To be alone must not be feared.
The Host is slow to recognise one who is alone.
Though there are many, all stay alone.
Do you hunger?
- What is it? - Life.
{RUMBLING]
The Host stirs again. Now Blake, understand the need for swiftness.
Information.
Detectors indicate rapid changes now occurring on the planetary surface.
- Changes? - Specify.
Indications are that the land mass is sinking.
Projections of the rate at which the process is accelerating
suggest that it will be entirely submerged beneath the oceans in two hours.
- That's impossible. - Recheck the data.
Confirmed.
The climatic and gravitational changes would be catastrophic.
Well, perhaps they are.
The planet would be tearing itself to pieces.
Are we sure it isn't? Shouldn't we move away?
- How long before the homing beacon activates? - One hour, fifteen minutes.
Data is confirmed. Analysis continues.
Orac, have you got anything on this?
The phenomenon is unknown to me.
I shall reQuire an analysis of the chemical composition of the oceans.
Zen?
Full range chemical analyses are being carried out.
- What about Blake? - Let's hope he's on high ground.
There. The Host has not absorbed them.
What is the Host? And yet you fear it?
Resist it. Oneness must resist the Host.
But you don't know that it exists.
Perhaps you're imagining it. How do you resist an illusion?
Eat lightly; move quickly, so the Host is not aware of your Oneness.
Yes, I don't suppose you know how to speed up the timer on a homing beacon? Yeah.
Zil, what's wrong?
Zil is lost.
The Host will take...
Saliva? You mean that's an ocean of spit?
No, of course not. That was merely an analogy I was drawing.
All right, so it's digestive fluid. What does it mean?
Surely that's obvious. This planet is alive.
Define alive. All planets are, by some definition.
I am not referring to a complex ecosystem. I refer to a single organism.
A planetary life form. Fascinating, don't you think?
I doubt if Blake does.
If it is a single organism, how does it function?
That would reQuire study. At present I can only conjecture.
So conjecture.
To maintain life on that scale the organism must have achieved stasis,
a perfect balance within itself. Clearly something has upset that balance.
- Blake? - No. The stimulus would be insufficient.
- So, what, then? - My conjecture would be parasites
A life form living on the organism whose population has reached too high a level.
- Well, what's that organism doing, Orac? - Cleansing itself.
- Killing them? - Correct.
And replacing the energy thus expended by eating them.
There's still forty-five minutes before that homing beacon activates.
Blake hasn't got that long.
- Blake must leave Zil. - No.
What's happened to the light?
The waking time is over. The Host absorbs all.
Not yet, it doesn't.
Avon, the flight program's laid in.
- Close to the atmosphere? - As close as we dare.
All right, stand by.
If this works the teleport should operate on a series of brief automatic pulses,
each pulse covering a section of the area we are flying across.
If Blake is there, it will bring him up?
Start to bring him up.
It will be up to you to hit the main switch and complete the process.
You'll have to concentrate. He'll appear and disappear in one short flash.
And if I miss it?
He's gone for good.
- This place is fitting.
Zil, what?
Oneness will return when the Host is quiet again.
{ALIEN CHATTERING]
They're eggs. The children of your people.
Their skin is strong. They cannot be absorbed.
The teleport materialisation. The field glows white.
You thought I was hatching from an egg. You've been protecting a child.
This place is fitting. Here Blake and Zil will surrender Oneness.
Zil. Zil!
Not me. I am not ready to surrender ANYTHING!
All right, Jenna. Let's get on with it.
Flight program running.
{RUMBLING]
Flight program will be complete in two minutes.
The flight's almost over. Is it working?
Quiet, Vila.
Now!
Thank you.
Next time I want to think, I'll do it in my cabin.
I should stick to action, Blake. That's what you're good at.
Jenna, we've got him back.
Avon adapted the teleport with his usual skill, probably ruined it.
You went to a lot of trouble.
One of these days they are going to leave you.
They were almost ready to do so this time.
Yes, I thought they might be.
- You handle them very skilfully. - Do I?
- But one more death will do it. - Then you'd better be very careful.
It would be ironic if it were yours.
Prosecution data is now entered as complete.
Judgment program Jenkin 1 ObliQue 3 holding.
Major Thania, is your defence data prepared and ready to be entered?
If it pleases the arbiter, we would like to offer our opening declaration.
- Very well. - Thank you, sir
Gentlemen, it is with a very real sense of waste, perhaps even of tragedy.
NO!
Has the prisoner some objection?
- I request a consultation, with the Arbiter's permission... - Warden Samor, I have no wish to consult with my defence.
That's enough!
I will not have this tribunal reduced to the level of a common trooper's brawl.
You have already made formal acceptance of the competence of the defending officer?
Yes, sir!
- Defence may consult. - Thank you, sir.
What the hell do you think you're doing, Travis?
You handled that badly, Thania. The Supreme Commander will not be pleased.
- Signs of life? - Death throes, nothing more.
- All right, what is it you want? - The opening declaration.
You want to know what I am going to say?
I'm going to say that you were a brilliant and dedicated soldier who had a lapse of judgment,
- a momentary aberration. - Only a momentary aberration?
I'm further going to say that you deeply regret what happened.
In other words, I am going to lay the basis of your defence.
- I will make the opening declaration. - Look, don't be a fool
Do you really think you're going to impress them sympathetically?
I think the Supreme Commander wants me to go to my death quietly.
- That is as close to quietly as I am going to get. - Look; I'm trying to save your life, Travis.
You'd be better occupied trying to save your own, Thania.
Majors can die quite anonymously.
And your involvement in this fiasco,
makes your life expectancy only slightly longer than my own.
We were getting a reputation for being invulnerable.
- We were even beginning to believe it ourselves. - Some of us, anyway.
All right, yes, I admit it.
Gan's death woke me, made me realise that I'd come to accept our own legend.
But far more important than that, every Federation trooper,
every kill-happy bounty hunter now knows that we are fallible.
You're saying that it's time to stop. That is what you're saying, I hope.
No, he's saying it's too late to stop, aren't you? We've come too far.
No, what I'm saying is there will be a better time.
- When we have restored our legend. - Ah.
All right, what death defying feat must we undertake in order to do that?
- Will this detector shield work? - Yes.
A high-speed attack. A single strike run.
We'll be on them before they know and away before they can respond.
- Where? - Servalan's headquarters.
You may begin.
A field officer, like myself, is frequently required to make fast, unconsidered decisions.
You were all field officers; you know that's true.
Time to think is a luxury battle seldom affords you. You react instinctively.
Your actions, your decisions, all instinct, nothing more.
But, an officer's instincts are the product of his training.
The more thorough the training, the more predictable the instinct, the better the officer.
And I am a good officer. I have been in the service all my adult life.
I'm totally dedicated to my duty and highly trained in how to perform it.
On Serkasta, I reacted as I was trained to react.
I was an instrument of the service.
So if I'm guilty of murder, of mass murder, then so are all of you!
The prisoner will be seated.
Is the defence data prepared?
- It is, sir. - Enter it.
Judgment program Jenkin 1 ObliQue 3 running. Defence data commences.
- Speed? - Standard by Eight.
Flight time to target?
Six hours and four minutes at present speed.
- Increase speed to Standard by Ten. - Standard by Ten.
- Can we rely on it? - I thought we were.
Detector contact, extreme range Grid Five.
Six ships. Standard Federation patrol pattern.
- Bearing One Nine Four. - Have they picked us up yet?
- Maintaining patrol pattern. - Holding One Nine Four.
Put them on the screen, Zen.
They missed us! Avon's gadget works!
I never doubted it for a moment. Is something wrong?
It just occurred to me,
that as the description of a highly sophisticated technological achievement,
"Avon's gadget works", seems to lack a certain style.
The prisoner will stand. Run judgment.
Judgment program 1 obliQue 3.
Conclusion: Space Commander Travis, you are guilty as charged.
The tribunal will retire to consider sentence.
No surprise from the defence.
- How did you know? - How did you NOT know?
- I thought he'd given up. - I warned you not to underestimate Travis.
I don't think he's persuaded them.
I was watching Samor. What Travis said bothered him!
You were watching?
Secret session or not, did you seriously imagine I wouldn't have a spy camera in there?
Travis knew, right from the beginning.
It really is a pity he's got to die.
He's so much better than anything I've got left.
Time to target?
Fourteen minutes. Attack run will commence in 9 minutes and 30 seconds.
- How long before they see us? - Nine minutes and twenty-five seconds.
Space Commander, we have considered your sentence at some length.
Your contention that what happened on Serkasta was a direct result of your training concerned us greatly.
We accept that you are trained to kill.
As are we all.
What we cannot accept is that this training leads inevitably to the murder of innocents.
Your behaviour was not that of a Federation officer, but rather that of a savage, unthinking animal.
Target now registering on all detectors.
Three minutes to commencement of attack run.
We cannot find it in our hearts to absolve you in any way of the responsibility for these murders.
The sentence of this tribunal is, therefore, that you should be stripped of all rank and privileges,
that you be dishonourably dismissed the service,
and that you then be executed for the common criminal you have shown yourself to be.
Have you anything to say?
- Five seconds to attack run threshold. - Commit.
We are now in their visual range. Attack run commenced.
- Stand by the main blasters. - Main blasters ready.
Do I take it you have nothing to say?
The Federation is run by hypocrites and supported by fools.
I'm glad to be rid of you all.
Public Address: All personnel to battle stations.
Unidentified ship on attack run in Quadrant six.
Fire the main blasters!
{NEUTRON BLASTERS]
Public Address: Automatic airlock will trigger in three seconds.
{GUNFIRE]
- Don't make me kill you, Par. - What happened in there?
Outer wall cracked, automatic airlock sealed the chamber.
They'll all be dead by now. Drop the gun.
I can't do that, sir.
Don't be a fool. I've got nothing to lose anymore.
I can't let you go, sir.
Some of us weren't hypocrites, were we, Par?
Get us out of here, Jenna. Speed Standard by Twelve.
Battle computers, put force wall on standby.
Single attack run on Quadrant Six.
Damage is extensive but confined to that section as far as we can tell.
- Damage control teams? - Moving in now.
- What about casualties? - High and rising all the time.
No estimates yet, Supreme Commander.
Very well. Keep me informed.
Well! Savage, THINKING animals have a way of surviving, don't they?
- Who was it? - We think it was Blake.
I must remember to say thank you before I kill him.
- What are you planning to do? - I'm planning to leave.
You're going to give me a pursuit ship, oh, and the trigger circuit for this.
You think so?
And you'll hunt Blake.
While you hunt both of us. Now give the orders. Carefully.
Is Pursuit Four ready for immediate launch?
Yes, ma'am. And your crew is standing by.
Have the crew stand down. I want them replaced by three mutoids.
- Mutoids? - Yes, mutoids
And have them blanked.
I want their minds imprinted to receive orders
only from the person who first uses the trigger word "outlaw" to them.
Yes, ma'am.
You'll need a crew you can rely on.
Still one step ahead? You're not going to use me any more.
Move!
The last patrol is off the detectors. We have lost them all.
"Resist the Host or your Oneness will be absorbed".
I would quite like to have met this Zil of yours.
It's not often that one comes across a philosophical flea.
That's the stuff that legends are made of.
Then again, perhaps they are not that uncommon.