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Current Poll

Who is your Favourite Guest Rebel?

Avalon - (Project Avalon)
Avalon - (Project Avalon)
23% [29 Votes]

Selma - (Horizon)
Selma - (Horizon)
4% [5 Votes]

Tyce - (Bounty)
Tyce - (Bounty)
14% [18 Votes]

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

Bek - (Shadow)
Bek - (Shadow)
6% [8 Votes]

Kasabi - (Pressure Point)
Kasabi - (Pressure Point)
16% [20 Votes]

Hal Mellanby - (Aftermath)
Hal Mellanby - (Aftermath)
17% [22 Votes]

Hunda - (Traitor)
Hunda - (Traitor)
5% [7 Votes]

Deva - (Blake)
Deva - (Blake)
8% [10 Votes]

5% [7 Votes]

Votes: 128
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Started: 09 July 2016

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July 2016 - Artwork Fanfic Challenge - by Lurena
(Click on image for larger version)

This scene by Lurena is called Downtime, and she hopes it will evoke some good B7 humour!

Post your stories here...
Twitter: @TravisinaB7
Tumblr: tumblr
There's no point being grown up if you can't be childish sometimes
I wonder if I should disqualify myself from this one.
Edited by JustBrad on 02 July 2016 01:27:31
OH, dear!
Zil: Oneness must resist the Host.
The Present

Repairing the Albian defense system involved plenty of work. Nonetheless, Del Grant always managed to have a few private minutes with Jenna.

‘I have a present for you’, he announced.

Of course he could have given it to her without laying his arm around her shoulders, but for some reason she didn’t mind his boldness.

‘What is it?’ she asked, staring at the strange object in his hands.

‘When we took out the last Fed outpost on the other continent, I noticed that you are a heck of a markswoman, but when it comes to hand-to-hand combat, you need a little protection’, he explained, ’this is a special short-range weapon that might be useful for you.’

‘What is it?’ she repeated.

‘An old friend gave it to me. It is a foldable Welsh street sign. When you press this button, it will unfold. You can use it as a blunt instrument, but it also has very sharp edges.’

Jenna laughed. ‘You’re kidding’, she said and pressed the button. The mysterious object unfolded. Unsurprisingly, it was not a street sign but a bunch of artificial flowers in bright colours. They looked as if Grant had stumbled upon the heirloom of a stage magician.

‘I fear they don’t smell’, Grant apologized, ‘the Albian flower shops were already closed so I had to settle for the plastic variety.’

She smiled. ‘Why?’ she asked.

‘Because I want you to come with me.’

‘Why should I?’

‘Look around you! Look at the guys whom you chauffeur through the galaxy! Over there – Avon at the computer panel! Only interested in his circuits. Does he notice you? Or there – Blake giving orders to Vila, only interested in advancing his course, and Vila only longing for a break and a glass of soma. I don’t know if it is of any interest to you, but even Cally has gone back to freedom fighter mode, busying herself in her work for the Albians. And in the meantime, you slave away at this console without anyone even looking in your direction. That is your present. I give you the future, because I do notice you.’

She smiled again. ‘I will think about it’, she promised, ‘but for now, they still need me. Blake is on the trail to Star One. When we have dealt with that ... well, I might bail out.’

Grant touched her cheek, very briefly and very tenderly . ‘You know where to find me’, he said.
@Hugbot - you're on a roll this month! Neatly tying together in-jokes, canon and oh, what might have been...
Huggy: LOL, literally.

I think there are going to be a lot of scenarios like that.
Ellen York
Another winner, Hugbot; love the Welsh street sign reference. But four stories in two days, you are putting the rest of us to shame Wink
Following the Master here!

Circus Skills? Why in the name of the seven moons of Bucephalus 5 would she think that a group of desperadoes engaged in the tricky business of staying alive might need to learn circus skills? Weren't things on the flight deck crazy enough for her? Blake and Vila deciding whose turn it was to clean out the recycler through a game of rock, paper scissors, for example. And as for Grant - pretending to instruct Jenna in the use of some over- sized navigation gizmo he had recently acquired: Avon was pretty sure that Sigmund Freud would have diagnosed a classic case of overcompensation but Jenna seemed to be suitably impressed. He hoped she would not be disappointed later- her temper could be uncertain when she was.

Thankfully Zen's communication circuits needed a service and he had managed to escape this nauseating explosion of "good will to all men" (and women) by immersing himself in the task. He should have guessed that Cally would want to spoil things; though why she had embraced Orac's suggestion that learning to juggle and to fall without hurting themselves would be good way to release the tensions following their near-death experience on Albian, was a mystery. He suspected sometimes that Orac might have a sense of humour.

Only Vila had profited from the experience. Grant and Jenna had declined outright to participate claiming that Jenna needed more practice in manipulating the navigation gizmo. Even Orac wasn't fooled by that one. Blake had proved to be about as competent at juggling as he was at planning a rebellion and had while trying to fall bonelessly, overbalanced and crushed a communications' relay. While Cally attended to his rather embarrassing, if minor, injury, Avon had used the accident to escape on the pretext that if the relay wasn't immediately repaired there was a risk that the ship's communication system would cease to function. - fortunately Orac wasn't in the rec room to be asked its opinion so he got away with it.

Much, much later, (so many depressing events later), an uninjured Vila told him triumphantly that it was his ability to fall naturally had enabled him to escape unscathed on Gauda Prime.

"I just hit the deck when the shooting started. Cally was right, Avon. Every rebel should learn circus skills. If you'd bothered to learn to fall properly you wouldn't have knocked yourself out when you took that dive! Blake's put it on the training schedule and I'm in charge of it."

At least Avon reflected as he made his way back to his room in their new base on Albian, this compulsory addition to the training schedule Blake was insisting on had wiped the insufferably smug expression off the faces of Grant and Jenna.
Edited by Anniew on 13 July 2016 15:16:51
Just because I can't sing doesn't mean I won't.
Jenna entered the control room. Blake, Cally, and Vila had reams of paper spread across a table. “Can I help?”

Blake looked up. “Bring us some coffee, won't you?”

Avon had his nose buried in the central computer. Jenna approached. “Can I help?”

“Yes, you can get out of my light. Oh, and bring me some coffee.”

Striding towards the galley, she passed Grant. He had both arms deep into the fire control computer, and was quietly issuing a stream of epithets. Jenna asked, “Can I help?”

Grant looked up. “Can you tell the proper polarity of a laser printed circuit and matching wiring harness?”

At least he hadn't asked for coffee. “Of course.”

“Well if you can do it by feel get your feminine hands in here up to the elbows. The opening is so tight I can only reach the cursed thing with my fingertips. I'll hold it, you wire it.”

Jenna squeezed in between Grant and the console, feeling her way to a circuit board so deep in the console that she could not see it. “What are we doing?”

“I've recalibrated the defense turrets and linked them into the long range scanners. Wire this up right, and the guns will auto fire at any Federation vessel that comes into the system.”

“And if I wire it wrong?”

Grant smiled. “They'll be defenseless.”

“Better get it right then.” It was a delicate, time consuming process. “Grant, if you don't mind my asking an impertinent question, why do you call yourself a mercenary? The pro Federation faction on Arcos would have paid you far more than the rebels.”

“Why do you call yourself a Free Trader, Jenna? That same faction would have paid you double what I did for the arms shipment. Don't look surprised. You never gave your name, we never met, but I always know the source of my guns.”

Jenna made no answer. Grant spoke softly. “My turn to ask an impertinent question, feel free to tell me it's none of my damned business, but are you happy with Blake and Avon?”

Jenna spoke to the weapons console. “We have a job to finish, an important job. Happiness has nothing to do with it.”

“That answers more questions than I asked. Do you have somewhere to retreat to if it all goes wrong?”

“I've made some friends. What of you, you must have a base, a depot, a headquarters.”

Grant hissed a sigh. “Of course, but I could only divulge that information to someone I thought worthy and loyal.”

“You can let go. I can finish up.”

Grant stood. “Fine, I'll bring you some coffee.”

Repairing the damage done in the battle for Albion took many days, but eventually it was time for Liberator to depart. Once the goodbyes were said, Jenna retreated to her cabin. Waiting on the night stand was a cup of coffee. She chuckled, drank it down with a conflicted smile, and wiped her mouth with the napkin. A small smudge caught her eye. Written on the corner of the napkin was a single word.


Edited by JustBrad on 06 July 2016 15:55:46
Joe Dredd
In Xanadu did Kubla Khan

Out of the corner of his eye Avon could see Blake and Vila bent studiously over the forward detector control system. Vila had undone the inspection hatch and now the two men were diligently measuring, sketching and cataloguing all the parts of the system.

“It’s working,” thought Avon to himself, crouching by an panel he’d opened in a nearby bulkhead. He was a touch in awe of the fact, even though he had felt sure that it would indeed work.

Avon allowed himself a surreptitious glance over his shoulder. Jenna and Grant were likewise engaged, methodically documenting the internals of Liberator’s force wall focus-projectors.

Avon turned back to the jury-rigged control panel he’d connected to the Liberator system in front of him. Orac really was an excellent research tool, he mused. Having it to hand was like having a pair of seven-league boots, allowing him to take colossal strides in his work that would otherwise be unimaginable.

And this was only the first part of the plan! With the crew helping him like this, he would grasp an understanding of the alien ship’s systems much faster than he could working alone.

He absently ran a finger across the edge of the makeshift control panel. A pity he’d had to use a kind of engineered coercion to get their cooperation, but it was for their own good. They had to understand this ship in order to survive.

I’d better get on with it myself, he thought.

Drawing a probe from his tool roll, Avon turned to Liberator’s exposed innards. His probe hovered over each of a series of tiny relays as he silently ticked them off one by one, retracing where he was up to using the mental labels he’d given each little switch.

E... C... I--

Vila chuckled.

Avon frowned, but continued.

V... E--

Blake snorted with barely-suppressed laughter, then the two of them roared with mirth before lapsing into silence.

Avon gave them a scathing look. Oblivious, the two men had forgotten their short-lived hysterics and were now chatting about what a nice day it was.


Avon was about to stand up and address them, when suddenly Jenna burst into a fit of giggles. Startled, Avon swiveled violently around other way to look at them, almost toppling off his haunches in the process.

Now Grant was cackling away too! He was laughing so hard he’d had to grab hold of Jenna so he didn’t fall down. They shrieked on each others shoulders momentarily, then their laughter fell away just as quickly as it had begun.

Avon stared. The pair remained draped over each other and instead of getting back to work, had begun talking about the beauty of watching sunrises from orbit.

Something was going wrong.

With a strange feeling growing inside him, Avon turned back to the micro-relays and tried to concentrate on the work at hand, trying to push the feeling down into a locked box deep inside himself.


All at once the ‘D’ relay seemed like the funniest thing in the world.

Avon tried to contain himself but the urge was irresistible. Joyous laughter bubbled out of him. He snickered and sniggered, and chortled and hooted. He fell over on his side and laughed harder than he had ever laughed in his life.

The others didn’t seem to notice at all.

And then, like the floor had fallen out from under him and taken his stomach with it, the happy feeling evaporated. Avon suddenly felt very melancholy and stared at the open, meaningless electronics in front of him, thinking about his brother. He half-heartedly tried to attach his little self-made control panel into the bulkhead opening, seeming to no longer understand that it didn’t fit because it wasn't a part of it.

All of a sudden, Cally was in the room, swathed in the telepathic induction loops he’d given her as a failsafe.

//Avon!// she called. //Avon! Turn it off!//

Avon stared at the bulkhead, dazed and uncomprehending.

Cally had crossed the cabin and was beside him now, enveloping him in the invisible halo of the induction loops. She shook his shoulder.


Shielded by the counteractive force of the loops, Avon snapped to his senses. He rapidly flipped each of the micro-switches back to their original position, his mental roll-call lagging behind his fingers as they sped over the board.

...T, O, L and P. Done.

He looked around at the others. They were shaking their heads as though they had just woken up but couldn't dislodge the cobwebs.

“What happened?” cried Blake. “Avon?”

“It was an experiment,” replied Avon, matter-of-factly. “I needed some help documenting Liberator’s systems. Rather than argue about it I decided to enlist your assistance in a way guaranteed to ensure a positive result with no bickering and no shirking.”

“What?” groaned Vila, holding his head.

“How?” asked Blake.

“Avon made a moon disc analogue,” explained Cally. “He used it’s telepathic powers to suggest you helped him. I was his back up in case anything went wrong.”

“So you knew about it too?” queried Blake. “And what did go wrong, Avon?”

“I tried to boost the analogue's range by hooking it into Zen’s intruder defence mechanism. You might remember the mechansim was capable of telepathic projection.”

“I remember being impervious to it,” replied Blake. “But, worryingly, not this time around, Avon. It’s not a situation I want to find myself in again.”

“I’ll keep it in mind,” drawled Avon, disconnecting his control panel.

“I was hoping we could use it to help keep my moon disc Blake happy,” added Cally.

“I wish you hadn’t named your pet after me,” muttered Blake. “Anyway, someone should be on the flight deck,” he added. “We can continue the discussion there. Vila, come with me.”

The two men left.

“We’d better go too,” remarked Jenna, as Grant slowly released his hold on her. Avon noticed that he hadn’t been in any hurry to take his arms away once the strange spell had been broken, and Jenna hadn’t done anything to shoo him off. They set down their things and left.

Cally carefully removed the large coil of induction looping from over her shoulder, placing them on a bench as she waited for the others to get out of earshot.

“Something else must have happened to make everyone behave the way they did,” she said when they could no longer be overheard.

“Yes,” replied Avon.

“Which was?”

“I believe that instead of creating a moon disc analogue Orac and I created a shadow analogue,” replied Avon.

Cally clucked her tongue. “Same extra-sensory boost for non-telepaths, but also projecting the euphoric highs that come from shadow addiction.”

“Followed by the depths of despair,” finished Avon. “We would have hurtled over the brink if those induction loops hadn't worked. This experiment is at an end.”

“I’m glad to hear you say that,” smiled Cally, leading him from the room.

“Though that bio-adapter could conceivably be useful,” mused Avon as the door slid shut behind them. “I wonder what other kind of living things could provide benefits via an analogue.”
Joe Dredd
Post script.

Then Avon turned on the mind control device one more time and said "The post above only contains 500 words... the post above only contains 500 words..."

It worked so well that no one noticed there might have been one or two more words than allowed, or perhaps double.

They even kindly overlooked how poorly written it was.
Joe I really enjoyed reading your story. It's clever, beautifully in character and a surprising take on the prompt.

Brad - the coffee idea is genius.

Hugbot. I bow.
Just because I can't sing doesn't mean I won't.
Joe Dredd
Anniew wrote:

Joe I really enjoyed reading your story. It's clever, beautifully in character and a surprising take on the prompt.

Thanks Annie!

[Thinks: I really must turn off this mind control device... one day!]
Joe SmileSmileWink
Just because I can't sing doesn't mean I won't.
I very much enjoy reading all those different takes on my artwork.
Chapeau to you all !

-Hugbot, that’s a real present and fun! Clever work using in-jokes and even putting jokes into these.
I hope Jenna has found her Del Grant by now!

-Annie, where on Albian did you get that inspiration? I had to read it twice to get it. ; )
But it hurts to see Avon’s broken legs…(can’t help to link the vision to his actor)
You’re right, fall - training is useful, not only for rebels, also for us, aged people.
Juggling stirs the mood, well that’s very B7, isn’t it?

-Brad, thank you for serving the Morphaniel coffee! It tasted very good.
Yes, Jenna has found Del Grant by now…

-Joe, please don’t switch the mind control off, I love to read your “less than 500 words-not-so-well-written” contribution more than once again. I love it!
Lara&Sue's Blake's 7 stories
*No, I am not. I am not expendable, I'm not stupid, and I'm not going.*
Joe Dredd
Lurena wrote:
-Joe, please don’t switch the mind control off, I love to read your “less than 500 words-not-so-well-written” contribution more than once again. I love it!

Thank you Lurena, and thank you also for the extremely well-drawn inspirational picture.

Taking a leaf from Hugbot's story, there are two silly things thrown into my story too. They are nothing much and you've probably picked up on them already, but if not perhaps you'll work out what they are next time you read it.
Here is my little effort! (And under 500 words!!!)


Cally was wary of stepping over the threshold.
She had done so before and each time she had stepped into a nightmare.
But this time, it seemed different; there was laughter for one thing, and a distinct sound of voices engaged in friendly banter.
Only Avon wasn’t laughing nor was he talking. Maybe to himself he was muttering about the inane antics taking place around him as he tried to sort out the mess in the computer links.
But which computer?
This room that she hesitated to enter was not familiar. It certainly wasn’t the Liberator, although there were elements that seemed to indicate that.
No, this room was…
Laughter made her look over to the far corner.
There was Jenna, with Grant. How did he get here?
They had said their goodbyes on Albian; yet here he was playfully helping as Jenna worked at a console.
Avon wasn’t amused.
He hadn’t spoken about the events in that icebound complex, but something had passed between the two men. Something that had alleviated Grant’s need to kill the man who he held responsible for killing his sister Anna…
But that was before...before Avon had shot Anna. Cally had witnessed it and she knew that it had hurt Avon. But here was Grant oblivious to that act.
And still Avon ploughed on with the computer’s innards.
In front of her sat Vila and Blake…talking about…something. She couldn’t quite make it out.
But why was Blake here?
And Jenna?
They had both gone; lost in the vast expanse of the Galaxy. Avon had tried to look, but had given up. Yet they were here.
Both of them.
“Blake,” Cally could hear herself saying softly.
He turned to greet her.
The breath caught in her throat. Blake’s face was disfigured; a cruel scar slashed down the left side of his face.

“I’ll take her back to her cabin,” said Dayna.
Tarrant and Avon watched.
“Well, what do you make of it?” Tarrant asked softly, “That’s the umpteenth time we’ve found her.”
“A dream, that is Orac’s prognosis,” Avon replied.
“A dream?” Vila muttered as he walked past them, the Moon Disc and its tray in hand, “Nightmare more likely.”
“A dream is the mind’s way of making sense of the world; putting things in order,” Avon explained, as the two men made their way back to the Flight Deck, “Orac believes that what we are witnessing is the last vestiges of that Alien’s hold over Cally.”
“How long will it last?” Tarrant asked.
“Who knows? If Cally still had her own people to help…”
“But she doesn’t. She has us.”
“Which doesn’t exactly fill me with confidence.”
“But why call out Blake’s name? And not yours…?”
Avon stopped, “Meaning?”
“After everything you have shared together, I would have thought…”
“Well don’t think, Tarrant. I have enough to worry about as it is.”
Tarrant stood still, suitably chastised, “Yes,” he murmured, “We know.”
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 wrote:

Anniew wrote:

Joe I really enjoyed reading your story. It's clever, beautifully in character and a surprising take on the prompt.

Thanks Annie!

[Thinks: I really must turn off this mind control device... one day!]

Can I borrow this mind control device when you have finished with it? Grin
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/
Sue that's a really clever story. Brilliant.

Lurena I looked quickly at the art work and it looked to me as if Cally was carrying juggling equipment so I went with that. I've always thought Vila dived on Gauda Prime and this gave me an explanation.
Just because I can't sing doesn't mean I won't.
littlesue wrote:


“But why call out Blake’s name? And not yours…?”

I had several thoughts about that, but these recurrent dreams could explain the reason why.

Thank you Littlesue for this neat and B7 dark short story!
Lara&Sue's Blake's 7 stories
*No, I am not. I am not expendable, I'm not stupid, and I'm not going.*
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