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Current Poll

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)
15% [14 Votes]

Norm One - (Redemption)
Norm One - (Redemption)
2% [2 Votes]

Bek - (Shadow)
Bek - (Shadow)
6% [6 Votes]

Kasabi - (Pressure Point)
Kasabi - (Pressure Point)
18% [17 Votes]

Hal Mellanby - (Aftermath)
Hal Mellanby - (Aftermath)
14% [13 Votes]

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

Deva - (Blake)
Deva - (Blake)
10% [9 Votes]

Other
Other
6% [6 Votes]

Votes: 94
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Started: 09 July 2016

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July 2016 Fanfic Challenge
Hugbot
Wow, that certainly was ingenious! First, you give us Avon's cunning plan B, and then the surprising development of events with a fascinating idea ... plus a grim but perfectly convincing ending. Being stuck with Blake in your head is obviously a fate worse than death!
 
Anniew
Thank you Hugbot. I'm glad you enjoyed it. It was Star One ( I want to be free of HIM) that I had in mind.
Just because I can't sing doesn't mean I won't.
 
thewayback7
2.bp.blogspot.com/-tm_QcCKi2fQ/V5hsCxpGsMI/AAAAAAAAA7o/n9YrXt8AfccMnDB3XM6gnkWfTEP4h9Y0ACLcB/s1600/vlcsnap-00256%2Btwb7.jpg

SHADES OF LIGHT (Ode to Ensor)
http://thewayback...-pt-1.html

I wrote a poem. Not sure what the rules are. I will copy it here, if it complies.

I've never written any fan fiction before but when I saw the topic was darkness/pessimism, well that's not writing to me, that's catharsis! Frown
 
trevor travis
BLACK HOLE

“Abandon ship! Black Hole approaching. Abandon ship...” The siren suddenly stopped. “Oh, god, now the siren's broken. Awooga, awooga. Abandon ship...”

Avon clicked his tongue in disproval, and turned to Cally. “I told Blake that we should have never taken part in the ship’s computer exchange scheme. I don’t believe Holly’s IQ is 6000. More like 6.”

Blake came rushing onto the flight deck. “What’s the problem, Holly?”

****

Avon was disbelieving. “But a Black Hole's a huge, compacted star! It's millions of miles wide! Why didn't you see it on the radar screen?”

“Well, the thing about a Black Hole”, explained Holly. “It's main distinguishing feature… is it's black. And the thing about space, your basic space colour… is black. So how are you supposed to see them?”

Vila butted in. “But five of them! How can you be ambushed by five Black Holes?”

“Always the way, isn't it?”, shrugged Holly, in his usual dry manner. “You hang around in Deep Space for three months and you don't see one. Then, all of a sudden, five all turn up at once.”

****

The crew were all ready to set off towards the life capsules.

“OK, this is the plan”, said Holly, “I'll try and navigate Liberator through the minefield of Black Holes. If all goes well, I’ll pick you up from the planet of Del Seven below.”

Gan looked troubled. “What happens if all doesn't go well?”

“Well, Liberator and everything on it will be compacted to the size of a small garden pea.”

“Bye, bye, Birdseye”, muttered Vila under his breath.

****

It took Holly five weeks to locate all the crew and teleport them all back on board. The last were Avon and Vila. Cally couldn’t make much sense of what had happened to them. Vila kept on mentioning dog food and Pot Noodle, without going into specific detail. Meanwhile, Avon muttered something under his breath about making Vila an eunuch.

****

Avon enquired: “So what happened to the Black Holes?”

Blake was grinning, while Jenna let out a stifled giggle. They were looking forward to Holly giving his answer to Avon. They’ be picked up a whole month ago.

“As it transpired, there weren't any Black Holes”, the computer stated.

Vila was incredulous. “But you saw them… you saw them on the monitor”, he exclaimed while knocking back a whole glass of adrenalin and soma in one gulp.

“They weren't Black Holes”, reasserted Holly.

Avon had a look of thunder on his face. “What were they?”

“Grit. Five specks of grit on the scanner-scope. See, the thing about grit is, it's black, and the thing about scanner-scopes...”

Avon got out his proddy tool and started to stride purposely towards to where Zen was usually located, but was currently occupied by a large screen showing Holly’s bald head.

Blake stopped him with a firm hand on his shoulder, still trying to suppress a smile. “Let’s go and pick Zen back up”, suggested Blake. Avon did not disagree.

“I wonder what Zen’s been up to?”, pondered Cally.

****

Starbug was under attack. It normally was. Zen was fed up. The exchange programme was supposed to last two weeks – it had been six months.

++STEP UP TO RED ALERT++, he instructed. The ‘Boys from The Dwarf’ made Vila and Gan seem like rocket scientists in comparison.

“Are you absolutely sure, Zen?”, queried Kryten. “It does mean changing the bulb.”
Edited by trevor travis on 28 July 2016 23:10:54
 
Anniew
It's a brain, a genius, a probability ruminator,
With a personality befitting its acerbic maker.


Really enjoyed ode to Ensor - nice back story and the above couplet is brill.

T.T. How I've missed your contributions. Fantastic cross over story and tge last line is pure genius. You've given Sue food for thought as well. What did happen to Vila and Avon???Dog food/pot noodle/ eunuchs. Hmmmm?
Just because I can't sing doesn't mean I won't.
 
trevor travis
Anniew wrote:
T.T. How I've missed your contributions. Fantastic cross over story and tge last line is pure genius. You've given Sue food for thought as well. What did happen to Vila and Avon???Dog food/pot noodle/ eunuchs. Hmmmm?


Annie, I haven't been away too long, I have contributed something each month. Wink As for my story, I can't take too much credit, since almost every quote, including the last killer punchline, is stolen from the collective works of Rob Grant and Doug Naylor Grin
 
Mistletoe12
thewayback7 wrote:

SHADES OF LIGHT (Ode to Ensor)
http://thewayback...-pt-1.html

I wrote a poem. Not sure what the rules are. I will copy it here, if it complies.

I've never written any fan fiction before but when I saw the topic was darkness/pessimism, well that's not writing to me, that's catharsis! Frown


The link to pt 1 of your terrific poem is fine but yes, absolutely, feel free to post Ode to Ensor to this thread. I haven't dabbled in poetry in way too long! I really enjoyed your contribution. And I'll look forward to reading more as it's completed.

Welcome to the fanfic thread!Grin
 
Travisina
@TT - your story is pure joy, and gave me a much needed LOL today!
Hubby and I quote RD regularly - in fact, only yesterday a discussion about whether tinned cat food would be safe to eat after being nuked (remembering a scene in 'Threads' - and yes, it is the sort of conversation we have while doing the washing up at Travisina Towers) segued naturally into dog food -v- Pot Noodle quotes Smile

@Thewaybackseven - thank you for the link to your poem. It's really good, and I second Mistletoe's invitation to post it here.
Twitter: @TravisinaB7
Tumblr: tumblr
There's no point being grown up if you can't be childish sometimes
 
Hugbot
Shades of Black

Space
Dayna’s skin
Travis’s heart
Avon’s humour
A trooper’s uniform
Servalan’s conscience
Cancer’s ship
Tara’s witchcraft
The Thaarn’s palace
Soolin’s past
The force that crossed dimensions
Whatever lurks behind Zen’s screen
The true nature of the Federation
The shadows on the Orbit shuttle
The ashes of hope
The place where they all went
The future
 
Travisina
Hugbot, that's wonderful!
Twitter: @TravisinaB7
Tumblr: tumblr
There's no point being grown up if you can't be childish sometimes
 
JustBrad
TT I give that three grinning Ogs. PfftPfftPfft

Huggy: I give that a tip of the cap and a respectful nod.
 
Travisina
Silence at Noon

By the time the fighting was over, there was not much left of the town. The Commander had to admit that the rebels put up a brave fight with the limited weapons at their disposal – old tech firearms and farming implements. His squadron had suffered a dozen losses, despite their superior firepower.

He was a fair man, but the deaths of his men angered him, and in victory he had shown no mercy. The rebel leaders were executed on a hastily erected platform in front of the statue that dominated the Town Square. Then the sullen and weeping prisoners were marched on to transport ships, and were now bound for a penal colony; exiled from the planet they had fought so hard to keep.

Now he walked through deserted streets; glass and rubble crunching under his boots, ash swirling on the light breeze. In the Square, he found his Mutoids disposing of the dead and utilising the fatally injured for their own purposes. He could smell the familiar tang as they replenished their stocks.

He wanted to take another look at the statue and mounted the platform, carefully avoiding the pools of blood and their attendant clouds of flies. When he first set eyes on it, he had been impressed that so backward a civilisation could produce such a fine sculpture. It depicted a man standing tall and proud; one hand holding a broken chain, the other holding aloft what at first appeared to be a manacle, before he realised it was an arm band or bracelet. The man was chiselled out of local stone; he had rugged features and the impression of curly hair. The chain was made of steel, the bracelet was cast in bronze with a timepiece set in its centre; another impressive piece of craftsmanship. The clock chimed every hour, and at noon the recording of a man's voice would play for all to hear:

We are free! Now and forever, we will be free!

He hated that recording. Throughout the week of fighting, the voice had daily spurred the rebels on to more acts of foolish resistance. When his men captured the Square just before noon on the last day, he had personally taken aim at the clock. But now he felt a slight twinge of regret. He should have left it intact and had the statue shipped home; it would have made a fine addition to his collection.

He reached up and ran his hand over the seared, cracked clock face. To his surprise, he felt it vibrate at his touch. The mechanism whirred briefly and the digits stuttered to life, completing their countdown to noon. The Commander was amused. One final act of defiance from the town's statue, he thought, as the recording began to play.

But the chimes were strangled and the voice faltered, the words slurring as the mechanism ran down:

Forever ... ever ... never ... We... will... never... be... free...

***

Twitter: @TravisinaB7
Tumblr: tumblr
There's no point being grown up if you can't be childish sometimes
 
Hugbot
thewayback7 wrote:

I saw the topic was darkness/pessimism

... and you also managed to fulfill the sound prompt! Interesting idea to let Ensor jr. be the driving force behind the Orac deal, out of concern for his father! I can't remember any fanfic about Ensor jr. ... you are obviously exploring new venues.

@TT: Vila would be very proud of you! Pfft

@Travisina: The atmosphere of desolation, the grim realism, the horrific details and the original way to insert the sound prompt - brilliant, just brilliant!
 
JustBrad
Travisina: Very Dark: Really grabs you.
 
peladon
Seem to have no time at the moment. Apologies to those I havent commented on.

Nearly missed thre deadline

Black Wash

She was heading back to Earth when it started, recalled, like all senior officers, for some unspecified emergency conference. She would have preferred not to go, but ignoring an order at this level would have attracted unwelcome attention so she had turned for Earth. After all the Scorpio crew had been captured, Avon and Blake were dead; there was nothing left to run the risk for.

“Madame, the beacon, it’s turned off!” her pilot said as they crossed the sector boundary.
“Turned off Captain? What do you mean?”
“Its gone Madame, that part of the sector has gone black.”
“Malfunctions happen Captain, report it.” Did nothing work properly any more?
“Yes Madame.”
The pilot said no more but it had been clear that he had wanted to. She’d ignored him and left the flight deck. Perhaps if she had pressed him on his concern then things might have been different.

By the time she reached Space Command it was clear that something was very wrong but until she had stood in front of the operations hub just how wrong had not been apparent. Now, in this room, the severity of the problem could not be mistaken. The lights of Federation dominance and influence were winking out. Slowly but inexorably Federation space was going black.

First it had been the navigations beacons, no faults reported but dying one by one all the same, their signals fading away leaving the systems they signposted anonymous and too dangerous to navigate. Then, just before the last beacon failed, the communications stations started, first their broadcasts falling silent and then their markers fading out. Now the command posts and repair yards were becoming invisible and unreachable, their heartbeats disappearing from the map, their chatter, like that of the communications stations, falling silent.

“Look,” the words came from the commander of the third fleet the only one safely berthed at HQ, “out on the edge of sector 7, a supply yard, its just disappeared.”

Fifty pairs of very senior eyes turned to the captain at the console. She checked something unseen then nodded slowly.
“Yes, we have just lost contact with forward supply base delta X-C 11. Until now we have retained contact with the supply bases. But It may just be a normal, routine malfunction.”

Servalan looked at the board, at the wash of black that was sweeping across Federation space, bringing silence and darkness where once a thousand heartbeats and telltales had burned, and had the sudden insight that nothing normal, nothing routine, was ever going to show on these boards again. Sector after sector was falling to the black wash and silence, the things that had made space accessible, made the Federation possible, were being shut down.

In silence she felt her way to the chair behind her and sat down, taking no part in the cacophony of protest and disbelief as the life signs of another base was washed away. She didn’t know how but she had a very good idea of who was turning the Federation universe black.

She gave a small bitter smile, why has she ever expected him to go quietly?
 
littlesue
Phew, just made it.
I've been waiting for a picture from Lurena.....and now the saga continues....

A Very Black Day at the Office


It was very black, very cold and very empty.
“How?” he cried in disbelief.
The two other men shrugged.
“That’s how we found it,” they replied.
And then he remembered; the sudden unannounced arrival of that arrogant official.
He could recall asking how the man had got here, but the man had brushed aside his questions with the air of someone who didn’t take kindly to such prying.
What was his name?
Such was the sudden intrusion that he hadn’t even asked…no, demanded, to see some form of identification.
And now he, Verel, was facing the shocking truth.
Somehow the stranger had distracted him.
Oh yes, that was it. The request for some refreshment and then casual comments about the view from the window overlooking the production centre.
“Well, now,” the stranger has said. Had that been the cue for whoever his accomplices were, to strike?
But why here? This was not a weapons facility.

In the Liberator’s teleport section, there were quite a few boxes, all being eagerly opened by the crew.
“Well done, Avon,” Blake said.
“I still don’t understand how this will affect the Federation,” Avon confessed.
“Morale. If those at the very pinnacle of the Federation suddenly find that those little things that they take for granted are suddenly unobtainable…”
“They suddenly won’t feel so amicable towards those in charge, “Jenna explained.
Vila opened one box and then looked at Gan, “I’m sorry, but we had to leave one behind. There were two of them marked rejects…”
“But we knew that you wouldn’t mind at least one of them,” Cally smiled, “But judging by the reaction of some of those who used to mix with the upper echelon, I don’t think that will be a bad thing.”
She cast a sidelong look at Avon.
“Well now,” he said bluntly, “wouldn’t that depend on your choice of addiction?”
i903.photobucket.com/albums/ac236/neoantares/drawings%20and%20things/ficlet%20challenge/July%20wordp%20black.jpg
Gan took one of the packets offered to him by Vila. He laughed. “No,” he said in response to Cally’s statement, “I don’t think that will be a bad thing at all!”

“I just don’t understand,” Verel said, “Have they taken everything?”
One of the men moved to the wall and found the lights.
Suddenly the blackness was illuminated. The whole consignment had gone...except for one box, alone in the corner. Overlooked by the ruffians who had broken in.
Verel ran his shaking hand through his hair, “It’s going to take ages to manufacture another consignment. There are ingredients to source...payments to be made… One box you said?”
“Yeah,” the other member of the crew said as he sauntered over to inspect the lonely box, “It says rejects.”
“Oh no!” Verel howled, “That’s the coffee ones. I’M RUINED!”
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/
 
Joe Dredd
Travisina wrote:

Hugbot, that's wonderful!


Not only that, but he made it Scorpio shape!
 
Joe Dredd
Hugbot wrote:
Whatever lurks behind Zen’s screen


Empty bottles of brown ale, apparently.
 
Anniew
You've saved the best till last!

Travisina - I didn't tell you how much I enjoyed your Arlen story. And Silence at Noon is so chilling and brilliant.

Hugbot - lovely clever poem ( I thought it was Hugbot shaped!)

TT. Yes I know you've posted every month but you're usually one of the first to post. This month I had to wait. But it was worth it!

Pelladon - my goodness that's a terrible story ( in the sense of the narrative depicts terrible things). The idea of Avon becoming an uber-Blake and destroying world after world. So shocking and powerful. And Servalan's almost casual summing up of what has happened at the end.

little Sue/Lurena. Thank goodness for some humour and the welcome return of the revels!

I love the idea of the rebels undermining Federation morale by nicking their luxuries. Soft toilet paper next Blake.

A vintage month .
Just because I can't sing doesn't mean I won't.
 
peladon
Anniew wrote:


Pelladon - my goodness that's a terrible story ( in the sense of the narrative depicts terrible things). The idea of Avon becoming an uber-Blake and destroying world after world. So shocking and powerful. And Servalan's almost casual summing up of what has happened at the end.

A vintage month .


But therre is no reason to assume he has destroyed any world, all he has done is take out the Federation infrastructure, life will change without it but there is no reason to assume its not going to continue.

Even if you interpret SO in that way after the destruction of SOand the war there would be none of what was there before left so any damage was already done. Personally I find the whole destroying countless world interpretation of SO Illogical (but then I consider that aspect of the episode total nonsense) and Ive never seen any reason to assume Blake was aware on any consequences of that type.
 
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