Blake's 7 - Travis - Table 3
Apprehension (#18 - absence of fear)
Travis had never allowed fear to dominate his life. It was something to be acknowledged, but a soldier was a creature of duty whose feelings were ultimately irrelevant. Yet twice that day, fear had gotten the better of him - first, when he said that the long cold “unnerved” him, next, and more tellingly, when his response to Avalon’s statement that he would never end the resistance was “Perhaps not.” He was not a reflective man by nature. If he were, he would have realized that for the first time, he apprehended the possibility of defeat.
Hope (#10 - take the fall)
A multitude of fragmented thoughts swirled through Travis’ mind in that brief, eternal instant when he threw himself to the floor. That if he failed, it was certain, horrible death for all of them. That if he succeeded, Servalan would certainly make him take the fall for their disastrous venture. That it might perhaps be best to fail - it was he that had said the loss of hope can be fatal. Then he was sprawled with the capsule of deadly virus cradled in his hand, and only one thought was allowable: Once again, I am on the ground looking up at the ruins of my life, and once again Blake is responsible - Blake, the source of hope.
Self-image (#25 - drawing the line)
He was a soldier, he thought of himself as a soldier, perhaps he did things which seemed to others unconscionable, but to him they were matters of simple necessity. Auros, Zircaster, why would a thousand matter more than one? An enemy was an enemy, and didn’t stop being an enemy after a surrender. But sometimes one matters more than a thousand, and in Travis’ case, the one was named Maryatt. After that conversation with Servalan, when he had finally admitted that only Blake mattered anymore, he could never think of himself as a soldier again.
Pyrrhic Victory (#11 - lonely at the top)
“You’re almost as ruthless as I am,” he had said to her. Both had casually ordered the deaths of thousands. Both had sacrificed innocents to get their way - Travis when he had ordered the detention of a labour grade for his deadly experiment, Servalan when she murdered Maryatt and callously condemned his family to slavery. But Travis knew that he still trumped Servalan - she was not the one who turned her back on the man who had saved her life. Travis was singular, alone, with only his loathing for company - and he clung to it.
Cold Blooded (#06 - call of the wild)
Servalan’s scream startled him more than the snarls of the creature in the tunnel. He was rather surprised to see that there was something human in her after all, something capable of reacting in an animal way to the presence of a threat. It was only later that he noted his own non-reaction, and that he was amused rather than offended when her recovered dignity demanded, “You will follow me.” Perhaps the numbness of his mechanical arm had crept into his body. Even his once-proud heart had been reduced to a metronome, leaving only his remaining eye alive with the fire of bestial hatred.
Travis had never allowed fear to dominate his life. It was something to be acknowledged, but a soldier was a creature of duty whose feelings were ultimately irrelevant. Yet twice that day, fear had gotten the better of him - first, when he said that the long cold “unnerved” him, next, and more tellingly, when his response to Avalon’s statement that he would never end the resistance was “Perhaps not.” He was not a reflective man by nature. If he were, he would have realized that for the first time, he apprehended the possibility of defeat.
Hope (#10 - take the fall)
A multitude of fragmented thoughts swirled through Travis’ mind in that brief, eternal instant when he threw himself to the floor. That if he failed, it was certain, horrible death for all of them. That if he succeeded, Servalan would certainly make him take the fall for their disastrous venture. That it might perhaps be best to fail - it was he that had said the loss of hope can be fatal. Then he was sprawled with the capsule of deadly virus cradled in his hand, and only one thought was allowable: Once again, I am on the ground looking up at the ruins of my life, and once again Blake is responsible - Blake, the source of hope.
Self-image (#25 - drawing the line)
He was a soldier, he thought of himself as a soldier, perhaps he did things which seemed to others unconscionable, but to him they were matters of simple necessity. Auros, Zircaster, why would a thousand matter more than one? An enemy was an enemy, and didn’t stop being an enemy after a surrender. But sometimes one matters more than a thousand, and in Travis’ case, the one was named Maryatt. After that conversation with Servalan, when he had finally admitted that only Blake mattered anymore, he could never think of himself as a soldier again.
Pyrrhic Victory (#11 - lonely at the top)
“You’re almost as ruthless as I am,” he had said to her. Both had casually ordered the deaths of thousands. Both had sacrificed innocents to get their way - Travis when he had ordered the detention of a labour grade for his deadly experiment, Servalan when she murdered Maryatt and callously condemned his family to slavery. But Travis knew that he still trumped Servalan - she was not the one who turned her back on the man who had saved her life. Travis was singular, alone, with only his loathing for company - and he clung to it.
Cold Blooded (#06 - call of the wild)
Servalan’s scream startled him more than the snarls of the creature in the tunnel. He was rather surprised to see that there was something human in her after all, something capable of reacting in an animal way to the presence of a threat. It was only later that he noted his own non-reaction, and that he was amused rather than offended when her recovered dignity demanded, “You will follow me.” Perhaps the numbness of his mechanical arm had crept into his body. Even his once-proud heart had been reduced to a metronome, leaving only his remaining eye alive with the fire of bestial hatred.