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Who is your Favourite Guest Rebel?

Avalon - (Project Avalon)
Avalon - (Project Avalon)
18% [17 Votes]

Selma - (Horizon)
Selma - (Horizon)
5% [5 Votes]

Tyce - (Bounty)
Tyce - (Bounty)
14% [14 Votes]

Norm One - (Redemption)
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7% [7 Votes]

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19% [18 Votes]

Hal Mellanby - (Aftermath)
Hal Mellanby - (Aftermath)
14% [14 Votes]

Hunda - (Traitor)
Hunda - (Traitor)
5% [5 Votes]

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9% [9 Votes]

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Other
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Started: 09 July 2016

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June Fanfic Challenge
littlesue
Wow PC.
A smashing take on the theme that one man's Freedom Fighter is another man's Terrorist.
Very nice indeed
Cold.....you don't know the meaning of cold.
Cold is when you have ice on the INSIDE of the window!!!


sues stories http://sjlittle.w...
sues youtube channel http://www.youtub...e54/videos
sues book shelf https://www.media...ne%20Shelf
rebel run video http://www.youtub...prqS-XZtLo
Lara and Sue's Stories http://lectorisal....webs.com/
 
peladon
littlesue wrote:

Wow PC.
A smashing take on the theme that one man's Freedom Fighter is another man's Terrorist.
Very nice indeed


Yes, also the sad truth that lies at the bottom of some of the differences in that perception , that there are those who will happily tolerate the the oppression of others if it makes their own lot more comfortable or reinforces their vision of the world.
 
BradPaula
Excellent story, Purplecleric!
Zil: Oneness must resist the Host.
 
Anniew
There have been some really great stories posted - such a breadth of talent. Brad - loved your sour story - so apt and true, Trevor funny as hell, Travisina, brilliantly crafted back story for Gan, Sue great Travis and even better Vila / Avon interaction with lovely pics and PC a wonderful story...surprising POV and bleakly convincing. My addiction for all things Blake's 7 is satisfied even sated! Until next month of course.
Just because I can't sing doesn't mean I won't.
 
Mistletoe12
peladon wrote:

littlesue wrote:

Wow PC.
A smashing take on the theme that one man's Freedom Fighter is another man's Terrorist.
Very nice indeed


Yes, also the sad truth that lies at the bottom of some of the differences in that perception , that there are those who will happily tolerate the the oppression of others if it makes their own lot more comfortable or reinforces their vision of the world.


Yes, this, absolutely!
 
Ellen York
PC, that is both plausible and horrifying. I can well believe that the Federation propaganda machine would try to make use of the tragedy at GP. I feel sorry for Blake, but also for your characters. Their lives are unlikely to improve much Sad
 
Anniew
Travis raised his arm and rubbed his thumb against his forefinger. The green gem began to glow. This was it. The moment he’d been waiting for. To hell with Servalan’s orders – nothing could stop him now. He might not be able to kill them (that lucky shot from Avon had damaged the stone too badly) and the unexpected attack by the wargs now besieging Her Highness and her mutants had allowed the rebels to escape his clutches, but Blake and his crew were clearly outlined against the sky at the top of the ridge and Travis had just sufficient power left to execute his revenge.

Sighting carefully along the length of his outstretched arm he aimed the gem at the retreating backs. Rapidly he discharged six short power bursts, noting with glee how the rebels jumped as each shot glanced across the seat of their trousers, clapping their hands to their scorched rears. The discomfort faded quickly but as each took a step forward, one by one their trousers began to descend, slowly at first, then gathering momentum, hobbling their knees and pitching them to the ground. A slow delighted grin spread across Travis' grim face as he watched them all struggle to their feet, frantically pull up their offending garments, and desperately try to hold them up while they struggled forwards, their arms full of cloth, guns, and equipment bags.

All that is except one.

Avon, he noted with not a little admiration, had disdained to pull up his ruined trousers and had simply stepped out of them. He was now, with a regality Servalan herself might have envied, striding across the ridge of the hill, an arresting sight in his heeled boots and the purple silk underpants which tightly caressed the pleasing contours of his posterior.

A noise, somewhat between a sigh and a moan made him turn. Servalan, paused in the act of strangling the last remaining warg, was watching Avon's progress across the ridge, a speculative look in her eye, and a trace of something suspiciously like drool at the corner of her mouth.

One by one, the Liberator crew hobbled out of sight, a defiant flash of purple his last remaining sight of them.

"Travis." Servalan's cut glass tones took on a sharper resonance swinging his attention to her, as, disdainfully tossing the warg's body aside, fastidiously wiping her hands, she picked her way daintily through the mass of dying mutants and dead animals to reach his side and transfix him with her steely gaze.

"You failed me, Travis," she spat viciously at him. " My life was in danger and you failed me. You failed in your duty to protect your Supreme Commander in order to pursue a childish act of revenge. A degrading act of revenge, Travis, unworthy of a senior officer. Travis." She paused dramatically, and he pulled himself straighter, anticipating his punishment, but stubbornly convinced of the rightness of his actions.

To his surprise the steel shards in her voice seemed to melt into molten honey:

"If a similar opportunity should arise, I will expect you to do so again."
Just because I can't sing doesn't mean I won't.
 
meegat39
Hilarious Annie! All this talk of Avon's trousers... Avon's silk underpants now the title for a new thread?? PS Was banned from posting in Avon's trousers last night from work after the contents were deemed tasteless and offensive!!!
"If you didn't want the answer, you shouldn't have asked the question."
 
Ellen York
Good one Annie! Avon would wear purple silk underwear. But maybe you shouldn't give the Avon ladies any more ideas; they seem to have enough of their own Wink
 
Anniew
Glad you enjoyed it Meegat and Ellen. It was inspired by the "trouser " thread. It's easy to forget that this is a P G site and to post 18+ comments! I've had to be reminded too!
Just because I can't sing doesn't mean I won't.
 
purplecleric
Travis & trousers! And I don't think purple satin has previously come up as an option for Avon's underwear despite extensive discussion.

Good job, Anniew - made me laugh!
 
Travisina
Annie, I read your story on my phone while sitting on a bench outside Euston Station.
It should have come with a health warning, because it made me laugh out loud and I got some very strange looks from passers by!
Twitter: @TravisinaB7
Tumblr: tumblr
There's no point being grown up if you can't be childish sometimes
 
Anniew
PC/ Travisina - very happy to have made you laugh. And purple silk undies - well I can't imagine Avon wearing anything else given his flamboyant taste in footwear. I actually enjoyed the idea of Servalan casually strangling wargs while her mutant warriors fell defending her from the pack more than the Avon bit. Well perhaps not - almost as much!
Just because I can't sing doesn't mean I won't.
 
Anniew
And now, maybe, to make you cry ( even if it's only " for goodness sake cheer up woman and stop writing such depressing stuff)

Anger and the pain from his wounds, perversely, roused him to action. He'd dragged himself over to each of their bodies when the firing stopped at last. Looked at each of them. His people. To ensure they were really dead. Then he had sat himself down by Villa on an impulse he couldn't really explain and picked up the cooling hand. He did not know if he imagined the twitch, the tiny pulse of life but he'd found himself dragging his companion - he did not feel he had the right to designate him' friend' - out from the darkness of the silo into the blaze of sunlight. Carefully he straightened the limbs, positioned the face (frozen in an expression of such surprised disbelief that it was comic) so the healing rays fell directly on to it and waited.

He could hear the rustle of small insects about the business of staying alive, the warning call of a bird daring rivals to invade its territory but no matter how hard he listened, he could hear not even the faintest suspiration - no murmur of blood snaking through veins and arteries. Despite the fierce warmth he was cold, his wounds pulling and aching, breath hard to fetch.

The sun blazed serenely. He remembered that it was once worshipped as an all powerful God, dredged up a piece of arcane information that the longest day had been one of the main days of celebration, the summer solstice, that day. He dared to hope.

He must have lost consciousness then for a time because when he came to, the golden, red light was slowly bleeding from the sky, and darkness like a shutter closing over the world. A noise from his companion filled him with sudden hope, a creaking moan forced from the throat, but the face when he touched it was cold and hard as a stone.

He hoped it would end soon. This longest day.
Just because I can't sing doesn't mean I won't.
 
Hugbot
@ PC: Thank you, that was a really great story. The fight for freedom is a very complex topic. Zealots like Blake don't comprehend this complexity, nor do those oppressed citizens who don't care about being oppressed or don't even see it. One could easily write a 500 page thesis about this, but compressing it into a 500 word story is a much more admirable achievement.

@ Anniew: Naturally, I am not so obsessed with Avon's trousers or his underpants, but I could nevertheless enjoy your hilarious story. Interesting to see what is going on in the mind of our Avon ladies! Grin (And before you ask: No, I won't write a story about Dayna's lingerie!)
And your new solstice piece is just brilliant - devastating, but brilliant!
 
Spaceship Dispatcher
Apologies for the delay in posting the next chapter of the epic and for not as yet reading or commenting on anyone else entries, as a holiday and another writing project have thus far got in the way. However, here is the next episode. It leaves Avon and Vila lost in the universe of cult television for a while and instead follows on from the February installment. Now that's written, it's time to do some catching up with everyone else's work so far this month!


*****

Travis raised his arm and rubbed his thumb against his forefinger. The green gem began to glow. This was it. The moment he’d been waiting for. To hell with Servalan’s orders – nothing could stop him now. He looked across at the base of the steep gravel slope to where Blake was remonstrating with a group of rebels that he foolishly believed would be united with him by a shared dislike of the Federation. They weren’t, and instead they had hauled him to the ground and looked like they were about to shoot him. Except that they wouldn’t of course, for the simple fact that Travis would shoot both him and them together in one deadly wide angle beam of laser fire. Timing was everything. Blake needed to be visible when the lethal blast killed him, otherwise Travis would forever be robbed of the pleasure of seeing him die. The man standing with his back to the Space Commander but facing the rebel Blake took a slow step backwards and the whole scene was revealed.

The streak of energy blazed fiercely across the disused alien quarry and exploded into the loose rocks and stones around the man who was the key target of the shot, Travis yelling and falling back before crawling for cover. On a nearby rise, that overlooked both the rebel group and Travis’ position, stood Jenna as she holstered her Liberator gun. She cautiously made her way down the slope while trying to stay behind cover in case the unknown Federation officer returned her fire.

“Sorry” she called, “but I recommend you take cover! There’s a Federation officer up there and he was about to take a shot at you. I think he’s hit, but if I missed him…”
“Is this reprobate with you?” growled the rebel leader… the other rebel leader.
“Sorry about that too” apologised Jenna, smiling and hoping Blake would recognise it as charm not disrespect.
“Jenna!” he exclaimed; “what’s going on! Where are Avon and Vila!”
“Sorry Blake” said Jenna; “but that’s what I have come down to explain…”
“Explain?!” exploded Blake angrily; “Explain what?!”
“Cally” called Jenna into her bracelet; “teleport now!”
“Not so fast…” said the rebel leader, but his words were addressed to thin air and moments after that both he and his fellows were running for cover as Travis opened fire.

Back on the Liberator, Jenna was trying to explain to Blake about Avon’s scheme to steal the new pan-genre transition machine from the research satellite. All that was clear to Blake was that Avon had deceived him and that Jenna, one person he felt sure he could trust, had been party to that deception. He formulated a cunning plan in his mind to rescue Avon and Vila, steal the machine for himself, and put Jenna back in her box at the same time. It was essentially a frontal attack on the research offices after teleporting into the reception of the satellite, while Jenna stayed behind to operate the teleport controls and the microwave cooking machines so that dinner would be ready when he got back. With Cally running behind him, and intending to work out the final points of the plan on the way, Blake made his way to the teleport room.
Reversing the polarity of the neutron flow. I bet that means something. It sounds great.

Blake's 7: Trojan Horse (s4 fanfic) - Blake's 7: Through the Needle's Eye (s2 fanfic)

Spaceship Dispatcher's fanfic site
 
purplecleric
Mmm, SD - the plot thickens! I can't wait for the next instalment.

Will Blake's plan succeed or will Avon's intelligence combined with Vila's cunning outwit him? Will the pan whotsit transport them into another genre and to safety? And most importantly - will Blake's dinner be ready on time? Grin
 
Spaceship Dispatcher
littlesue wrote:

“But just more spin,” Vila urged, “Let’s go for broke…the Jackpot!”
“Now!” Blake roared.

Durkin studied the message.
He was in Servalan’s office on Space Command Headquarters, which made the message even more incredulous.
“Ma’am.”
“What is it, Durkin?”
“It appears that you have won the greatest Jackpot prize ever in the casino on the Summer Solstice…They want to know if you would like to let it ride…..or cash it out?”

That was my biggest LOL moment this month Grin Grin Grin

@ Annie - Avon and the Bird Priest is a promising story, but we need episode two!!!

@ Paula - Grant/Jenna 'shipping and explaining the implausable tale Blake tells Tarrant in the final episode! I like it.

@ Paula (again) - so, you see Travis as an HP man? I'm not so sure, I think he would be a chilli sauce lover all the way!

@ trevor travis - the Inquisitor robot! Was the a reference to something else like RD, or made up for the story? It worked either way.

@ purplecleric - your PGP story is really interesting, turning against the popular perception of the rebellion being a positive cause.
Reversing the polarity of the neutron flow. I bet that means something. It sounds great.

Blake's 7: Trojan Horse (s4 fanfic) - Blake's 7: Through the Needle's Eye (s2 fanfic)

Spaceship Dispatcher's fanfic site
 
purplecleric
And here's my Travis scene...

Nocturnal Emissions

Travis raised his arm and rubbed his thumb against his forefinger. The green gem began to glow. This was it. The moment he’d been waiting for. To hell with Servalan’s orders – nothing could stop him now.

He could feel the subtle thrum of power running along his left arm as the laseron destroyer charged. It was the only time he could feel that arm these days, the only time it was truly part of him. The sensation matched the excitement building in his body. Organic and cybernetic systems were in tune, and he was whole once more.

Travis strode easily over the uneven ground, feeling tight leather stretch and pull as taut strong muscles worked, feeling powerful. He didn’t need to get in so close, Blake was well within range, but he wanted –needed – to see.

To see the sweat on Blake’s forehead, to see the whites of his eyes as they widened in fear, to see him tremble. And he wanted to hear Blake’s final pleas, to imprint them on his brain so they could be savoured again and again. And he wanted to smell the fear, taste the victory.

It had been a tremendous duel but now Blake lay broken amid the boulders. His hand was outstretched trying to grab for the teleport bracelet that was inches from his fingertips. His eyes darted about, searching for back-up that would not come. Travis kicked the bracelet further away, delighting in the look on Blake’s face as he watched it land beyond his reach. And now the words came, Blake’s last resort.

“It won’t make any difference if you kill me, Travis. You’ll not get the Liberator and others will come. They’ll keep coming until you and your precious Federation are mere ashes and dust.”

Travis snorted.

“Still preaching, eh? Save your breath. This is not about politics – this is personal.”

Very personal.

Travis stepped closer; towering over the fallen man, swelling at the shadow of darkness and fear he cast. Nothing had ever felt as good as this. To stand tall and proud with power coursing through his veins and circuits, his entire body charged with thrill and current. It was perfect, he was perfect; lucid, loaded with anticipation and the exquisite tension of being primed and ready to fire. Focusing on Blake’s eyes, now deaf to his pleas, consumed by the potency of this moment - Travis released the blast.

He shuddered a little and woke; sweat-damp sheets tangled around his scarred body and the scent of burning in his nostrils. The far wall bore another seared streak and he could hear the sound of footsteps running in the corridor.

Travis covered the shreds of his dignity with a heavy coat of arrogance. He would need it as he faced concerned eyes that would look at a man once defined by his might, only to see a former warrior crippled by the loss of an eye and an arm, a loaded gun with the trigger removed. Half a man.

Travis went to answer the frantic knocking at the door and silently vowed:

If it takes all my life, I will destroy you, Blake. I will destroy you.
 
Spaceship Dispatcher
Really excellent, descriptive glimpse into the mind of Travis there PC! I did wonder exactly where you were going with it, especially when I guessed it wasn't real, but I too love dream sequences and really enjoyed reading it.
Reversing the polarity of the neutron flow. I bet that means something. It sounds great.

Blake's 7: Trojan Horse (s4 fanfic) - Blake's 7: Through the Needle's Eye (s2 fanfic)

Spaceship Dispatcher's fanfic site
 
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