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Current Poll

Who is your Favourite Guest Rebel?

Avalon - (Project Avalon)
Avalon - (Project Avalon)
24% [34 Votes]

Selma - (Horizon)
Selma - (Horizon)
3% [5 Votes]

Tyce - (Bounty)
Tyce - (Bounty)
15% [21 Votes]

Norm One - (Redemption)
Norm One - (Redemption)
1% [2 Votes]

Bek - (Shadow)
Bek - (Shadow)
7% [10 Votes]

Kasabi - (Pressure Point)
Kasabi - (Pressure Point)
15% [22 Votes]

Hal Mellanby - (Aftermath)
Hal Mellanby - (Aftermath)
16% [23 Votes]

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

Deva - (Blake)
Deva - (Blake)
8% [11 Votes]

6% [8 Votes]

Votes: 143
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Started: 09 July 2016

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Sept 2016 Fanfic Challenge
Wow TT...Biggins as Servalan. That's a story to conjure with. And Paul Darrow as Baron Hardup, ( post GP) But I think then Colin Baker has got to be Travis 4..5.. Think of the hamming and Daming.
Just because I can't sing doesn't mean I won't.
trevor travis
Anniew wrote:

Wow TT...Biggins as Servalan. That's a story to conjure with. And Paul Darrow as Baron Hardup, ( post GP) But I think then Colin Baker has got to be Travis 4..5.. Think of the hamming and Daming.

I've amended... Biggins is now Servalan!!

Colin Baker would actually be quite good as Travis, so it's not appropriate for this particular ficlet for that very reason Wink

I've amended... Biggins is now Servalan!!

Colin Baker would actually be quite good as Travis, so it's not appropriate for this particular ficlet for that very reason

Whey hey!
Just because I can't sing doesn't mean I won't.
What's a couple of 'Greats' between friends?

“We live in a time of great Evil!” the large, elderly man in the pulpit bellowed. “And why do the people suffer this to be so? Because the Federation gives them no purpose, but the one true god has given them a purpose! To smite the sinners and non-believers. To replace godless wantonness with god-fearing men and women. Only the true believers can make it so!”

A young blonde man stood. The man in the pulpit leveled a finger. “Do you stand to leave as a weakling, or to come forward as a true believer?”

The blonde man bore a thin smile. “I believe. I believe we've heard enough, don't you, colonel?”

Black clad Federation guards swarmed in. A tall officer came last. He approached the pulpit. “Samuel Vargas, you are under arrest. You and your followers will be the first inhabitants of a new penal colony on Cygnus Alpha.”

The colonel nodded to the young blonde man. “Well done, Lieutenant Tarrant. Your undercover mission may well get you that transfer you have longed for."

A high pitched voice screamed, “Traitor!” A young boy charged Lieutenant Tarrant. Opening a small pocket knife, he thrust for the young officer's knee.

The colonel grabbed the small boy by the scruff of the neck and disarmed him with a firm wrap on the wrist.

“Easy, grandson.” As Reverend Samuel Vargas spoke, the lad ceased his struggles.

Reverend Vargas turned to the colonel. “He's just a lad defending his church and his family. Something you godless Federation scum couldn't possibly understand."

The colonel eyed the boy. “Young lad, you'll be pleased to know your act of defiance has earned you a trip to Cygnus Alpha along with your grandfather. Guards, take them all away, and summon a medic for lieutenant Tarrant."

The colonel stood outside the ancient church watching the ambulance roll away as a communications officer ran up to him. “Colonel, it's the Supreme Commander.”

The colonel took the communicator. “Sir, what can I do for you?”

The man's voice crackled over the com link. “I want to congratulate you, Colonel Travis. Samuel Vargas has been a minor irritation, but he has proven most elusive. You have risen as high as a Beta grade can in the ranks, but I shall find a way to reward you.”

Colonel Travis spoke. “If you mean that, sir, I have a grandson, eager to follow in the family tradition of military service, only, he's mad for space sir. And the only way for a young Beta to get into Space Academy Prep school... sir...

The communicator crackled. “Is by special appointment from the Supreme Commander. Very well, Colonel Travis, I shall see to it. Tell your young grandson he's bound for space. I understand you had a casualty. Report.”

The colonel replied, “Lieutenant Dev Tarrant, sir. The med tech says he may limp for the rest of his life. May I suggest a transfer to Central Security?”
Edited by JustBrad on 29 September 2016 04:22:30
That's blooming good Brad. Fascinating glimpse into prehistory of the Federation and Vargas and Dev Tarrant. Great motivation and a really believable tone and detail.
Just because I can't sing doesn't mean I won't.
Angry Angel
Very nice backstory Brad! Was this Vargas the one we meet, or his father?
Excellent, Brad!! Rise of the grandsons. Grin
Angry Angel wrote:

Very nice backstory Brad! Was this Vargas the one we meet, or his father?

For the purposes of this story, the child who attacks Dev Tarrant is the Vargas we meet.
That doesn't really fit the chronology of the series, thus the title.
Angry Angel
Aha, got it!
Brad - just occurred to me that your Vargas out trumps a certain orange politician!!
Just because I can't sing doesn't mean I won't.
As usual, I've left things to the last minute.

@trevor travis - loved the idea of Robot Wars 777. Again I'm in awe that you are so quick off the mark with a cracking piece. I'd never thought I'd read a B7 fic featuring Cheggers and of course, there has to be an Og story...

@JoeDredd - a true original. I've never read a Baby Chesku fanfic before.

@JustBrad - wonderful spider metaphor and nicely done with Avon's 'get out of jail free' card (also great explanation of that mystery piece of paper) and the Vargas/Dev Tarrant backstory was fascinating.

@Hugbot - a brilliant B7/Snow White crossover and [b]Dark Prayer [/b]was chilling and credible

@Anniew - I can easily see Travis & Avon trading info in secret, an old church would make the perfect RV point. Your Travis & Avon in the afterlife sent my neurons firing (see below) so kudos! The story of Jenna's scars was an evocative way to frame her back story and Avon's morning musings were achingly poignant

@Rainesz - Welcome to the party! Demon was a fabulous debut - can't wait to read more of your work.

Thanks for a great read this evening, everyone!Grin
The Seven Per Cent Solution

It had been a young man’s hedonistic delight, soon abandoned when life became serious. Avon seldom thought of it. Survival became his overwhelming need. Pitting his wits against Blake, and the Federation, provided his thrills. That changed on Xenon. His desperation grew and with it, the craving. He would wake in the night, sweat-soaked and hungry. Unable to settle, he started pacing the corridors of the base, his mind as restless as his body. Now he had remembered, he could not forget. He had to have it, and that would not be easy. The substance he craved was so addictive and dangerous that it had been one of the first to be banned when the Federation had assumed power.

A supply run finally provided the opportunity. Grimdorg was an awful planet, a black market trading post that would sell anything to anyone, no questions asked. The crew split up, each armed with a list of necessities to source. Avon had an additional item on his list. He turned away from the main thoroughfare and into the alleys. Open doorways revealed nightmare glimpses into heaven for some, hell for most. Scrawny hawkers promised more. They cringed and shrank away from his request, only one brave enough to reply. Avon followed the directions and pushed his way through a tattered filthy curtain shrouding the entrance to a hovel. He paused on the threshold, letting his eyes adjust to the gloom. The room smelled of neglect and stale unwashed bodies but the stench did not hide the unmistakable odour that told him he was at the right place.

At the back of the room a tall, gaunt figure towered over a makeshift counter. The man was sunken-eyed and hollow-cheeked, his hands busy with the familiar paraphernalia lined up before him. Avon’s mouth flooded with saliva and his belly cramped. He picked his way through the swollen bloated bodies strewn about the floor, their flaccid flesh and rotten teeth a testament to a lifetime of this addiction. Avon paid them no attention, he was focussed on the small bowl of white crystalline powder on the table.

‘What’s your poison, guvnor?’ The gaunt man’s breath was rank but Avon didn’t flinch. He was considering the options laid before him. His mouth was now so dry he had to swallow twice before he could speak.
The man nodded and picked up a stained metal spoon. He held it above the mound of white powder and paused, the question unasked.
‘Seven per cent.’ Avon replied. It was not wise to be too greedy, not after all this time.
The man carefully measured out the correct dose and stirred it into a beaker of hot liquid. Avon grabbed for it and was blocked by a surprisingly solid body. The man stated his price and Avon fumbled out some jewels, overpaying in his haste.

He snatched the beaker, clutching it to his chest as he scurried to crouch in the corner. He inhaled, enjoying the scent until the need overtook him. He swallowed a huge gulp, ignoring the pain from the scalding liquid, savouring the nectar as it seeped through his body. The tension eased from his shoulders, he relaxed back against the wall, his limbs loose and his mind calm. There was nothing in the Universe like a cup of hot sweet tea.

The sensation was not as pronounced as the teleport. There was a gradual fade then a short period of thick blank fog. The fog cleared and Avon realised that he was … somewhere else. The sky was the sickly yellow-green of the gloaming and lingering mist flattened his hair to his head with damp fingers. Around him were the blackened remains of a derelict building. One wall was still standing, decorated with a symbol that Avon recognised as a relic of an ancient religion. The golden cross glowed in the rays of a dying sun. Beyond the wall was a forest of bare withered trees that twisted their way to the foothills of a mountain so high that the peak pierced the clouds, the wound bleeding scarlet streaks across the heavens. Now his eyes were adjusted to the gloom, Avon could make out a flight of stairs; millions of carved steps that wound round the vast monolith spiralling up towards its summit.

The sight made him a little dizzy and he reached out to steady himself against the wall. He expected to feel cold stone, not the warm slick oily texture that fizzed in his joints and left a strange metallic taste in his mouth. Avon snatched his hand away and stepped back, his boots sinking into the spongy ground as tendrils of fog licked at his heels. He spun round at the sound of footsteps, losing his balance and falling to the ground with a thump. Hands grasped at him and a man spoke, his rough voice sounding distant but oddly familiar.

‘Steady there, you’re close to the edge.’
Avon gripped at the leather-clad arms and hauled himself upright to face an old enemy. Travis’ lips twisted into a cruel smile.
‘You! I should have let you fall.’
Avon bent to see he was teetering on the edge of a pit as deep as the mountain was high. A crimson glow emanated from its depths, illuminating another tortuous stairway. He reeled, clutching at Travis as his mind clutched at the last straw of logical thought.
‘I killed you. You’re dead. Then I must be…’ His voice trailed off.
Travis stepped back and laughed.
‘I guessed I’d be seeing you sooner rather than later.’
Avon’s hand went instinctively for his gun, then he realised he was unarmed. Travis spotted the motion and laughed again.
‘Bit pointless, eh?’
The sun had now sunk below the horizon and the world was awash with the colour of blood. Memories stirred in Avon’s brain.
‘Here?’said Travis.‘Is he dead, too?’
‘He should be. After all, I killed him.’
Surprise flickered across Travis’ face.
‘That’s a story I’d like to hear.’
‘After we’ve found him.’
Travis considered this and looked down into the pit. Avon shook his head and pointed towards the mountain. The men slipped into the night; two dark enemies seeking the light.
Edited by purplecleric on 30 September 2016 08:55:43
I've come to the party a bit late, but I thought I ought to post at least one this morning before I go off to work.
The stories so far have been outstanding, thoughtful, some cheerful, some not so....
So here is my first one. The second effort I will post this evening just before I pack my luggage for my hols.


Soolin’s blue eyes gazed up to the star studded sky.
The bare branches were silhouetted against the dark velvet expanse and moved gently in the wind.
It was cold and becoming colder, but Soolin did not mind.
She had achieved her objective…
She had killed those men responsible for the murder of her parents, but not before those same men had taught her all they knew about guns and how to fire them. How were they to know that their young protégé would turn on them and exact her longed for revenge?
But Soolin did not mourn for them.
Neither did she seek their forgiveness.
That part of her life was now a closed book; a new challenge awaited her.
To get off this planet with so many painful memories and find a new direction.
She pulled the thermal blanket closer and again sought solace in the stars, which were quietly traversing the sky in their endless journey; quietly blinking; quietly forming patterns.
She smiled as a new constellation suddenly appeared overhead framed by the dark, skeletal branches; a bright form with seven stars.
…that would be her lucky number.
Whatever the future held, it could be no worse than her past…

He looked down into Soolin’s sightless blue eyes.
The eyes that had blazed at him, even dared to challenge him, but no more.
He wanted to speak, but the words caught in his dry throat.
He looked up to the star studded sky through the bare branches that were silhouetted against the dark velvet expanse.
A sudden gust of wind made them shake violently.
Perhaps that was Soolin making one last protest…
There was a constellation high in the sky, blinking at him, but a dark cloud suddenly appeared and swallowed each of the stars until out of the seven, only one remained; steadfast and unyielding.
The sound of earth being shovelled into the hastily dug grave made him look, once more, into those cold, lifeless blue eyes.
The two Federation guards who held his arms so tightly were determined that he would see this young woman buried in the cold, dark earth.
As the last spadeful of Gauda Prime earth was thrown unceremoniously into the pit, Kerr Avon found the strength to speak.
It was a hoarse, rasping sound, which rode upon the cold, swirling breeze.
“Forgive me.”
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/
trevor travis
Now counting down the hours to Og-tober... Pfft Pfft Pfft
Great stories PC and Little Sue...I love these late entries!

And TT. Roll on Ogtober!
Just because I can't sing doesn't mean I won't.
PC I love the Dickensian descriptions of the tea den- its wonderfully graphic and detailed. I love the wit of the seven percent solution. But now I am forced to question Blake's crusade and his negative view of the Federation- it banned sugar!!! What an admirable thing to have done: no wonder Servalan is so thin!! And perhaps we have an explanation for the mild drugging of the population - to do away with the cravings. I'm off to have a cuppa now!

And boy did your synapses go into overdrive with your second fic!!! Very powerful!

Sue - evocative and moving Avon and Soolin ! Love the image of the seven stars eclipsed one by one.
Just because I can't sing doesn't mean I won't.
And now, just before I start packing my suitcase...
...something a little less dark!
(And thank you Anniew for your kind comments.)

A Fair Exchange is no Robbery….

The agreed meeting place was very strange; the ruins of a long abandoned church.
Avon found himself beguiled by the remains of a stained glass window set in an arch above what could only be described as an altar.
He was leaning against a cold, heavily sculptured stone upright; one of four that formed the last resting place of the poor soul who lay therein. He didn’t know the name…that had long gone; erased by time and the elements. But it made a good vantage point.
It allowed him to see exactly who was coming up the overgrown path; his visitor...
“You found it then?” he asked.
Travis stared back at him, obviously not amused by the convoluted journey to this once grand edifice.
“Visiting an old friend,” Avon replied, “President Sarkoff to be precise. No doubt plotting to bring about a rebellion or two.”
“Not very original.”
“Possibly, but what you are planning could well be.”
“It’s because of Blake that I have an opportunity to, shall we say, enhance my position.”
“Don’t you mean enhance your bank balance?”
“And yours,” retorted Travis.
“Naturally. If what you say is true, then Blake’s latest actions are to both our benefit. The Federation elite are in a state of unrest because of the shortage of what they consider to be one of their little luxuries. And I have the means to temporally assuage that problem…”
“But you need me carry out that plan. Do the others know about this…arrangement?”
Avon’s cold smile was answer enough.
Travis flicked a finger in the direction of the undergrowth and three Mutoids appeared, each carrying a chest. They put them on the ground.
“That’s my side of the bargain,” Travis smiled, “Now yours.”
“Quite.” Avon pointed to the high altar, “Three boxes as promised, although Orac suggests that you move quickly. There are others eager to fill the gap.”
“I know,” Travis replied, “And those boxes contain samples of the new products. I thought it wise to intercept the shipment…Tell me, does Blake know about your little side-line?”
“I prefer to call it insurance. Does Supreme Commander Servalan know about your extracurricular activity?”
Travis was silent.
“Maybe it is for the best. Somehow I don’t think she would be too happy about the fact that her very own Space Commander is taking advantage of the shortage…”
“Supreme Commander Servalan does not ‘own’ me,” Travis said levelly, “I am my own man. And your colleagues; have you told them about our little scheme?”
This time it was Avon who remained silent.
If any of the others suspected the truth about his plan, then he would find himself in serious trouble.
Travis smiled, “50/50 as agreed?”
“Agreed. You have the account number. Orac has set everything up so it won’t lead to me.”
“You are very clever, aren’t you?” Travis smirked coldly.
“And that’s why Blake needs me.”

“What do you think Travis has brought for exchange?” Jenna asked. Both she and Cally were hidden from view but still able to watch the proceedings.
“Once he has gone, we can find out,” Cally replied.

Back on the Liberator, Vila and Gan did not seem impressed with the haul.
“You exchanged our boxes of Revels for these…Treets?” Vila lamented.
Jenna opened one box and took out a yellow packet. She opened it and took out one of the confections, holding it in her fingers before popping it into her mouth.
“Chocolate,” she murmured, “And they melt in your mouth, not in your hand.”
“And we have Peanut and Toffee flavour,” Cally informed them.
Gan had remained silent. He had hoped that they would have kept the Revels for a little longer especially as his own supply of the rejects had gone.
“No coffee?”
They all looked at him, “NO!”
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/
Thanks for your nice comments on Dark Prayer.

Anniew wrote:

I've read lots of stories in which Avon is a Catholic

I only know one such story, and that was written by you – and worked surprisingly well, although I see neither Avon nor Travis as Catholic. My starting point for Dark Prayer was the fact that Travis’ accusations against the Federation in Trial actually made sense, while a few episodes later in Star One, he was completely off his rocker, eager to destroy humankind like some nut from a doomsday cult.
@AnnieW: A lovely vignette, very atmospheric and offering interesting insights into Avon. Ha, I even knew that this was a prequel to Rescue even before I read your comment! However, I failed to make the connection between your church story and the Seven movie; Avon talking to Travis’ head reminded me of Odin’s advisor, Mimir (although in that case, Odin was the one with the eye patch!).

@TT: A pity that I don’t get all the references to various actors ... I guess the story would be hilarious. As it is, it is ‘only’ funny. Your Og prologue cracked me up; I nearly choked. (I should know better than to eat a biscuit while reading one of your stories!)

@Brad: Yes, the chronology does not exactly conform canon, but who cares? By itself, the story works very well, and it was fascinating to see how you brought together the ancestors of several known characters from various episodes. I bet Avon’s granpa was one of the flock!

@PC: Loved both your stories. I knew the whole time that the illegal substance Avon was looking for would be revelead as something harmless (actually, I was expecting Revels), and it was highly amusing to read your misleading descriptions while waiting for the punchline. But sweet tea? With sugar? Are you serious? Sacrilege! (Well, apart from the Frisian variant, that is. When in Frisia, do as the Frisians, as they say.) Hinterland was very atmospheric with great imagery. Although I have to settle with Travis; I would not search for Blake in the higher place.

@LS: Seven: Very sad, very chilling and very effective. A wonderfully disturbing piece. – Yay, the Revels Rebels strike again - with an interesting twist to the coffee punchline! Good to have a funny story to cheer up after the previous one. Treets were also sold in Germany (I even recognised the slogan!), but I never heard of a toffee variant.
Edited by Hugbot on 30 September 2016 19:09:02
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