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Current Poll

Who is your Favourite Guest Rebel?

Avalon - (Project Avalon)
Avalon - (Project Avalon)
21% [39 Votes]

Selma - (Horizon)
Selma - (Horizon)
4% [8 Votes]

Tyce - (Bounty)
Tyce - (Bounty)
15% [27 Votes]

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

Bek - (Shadow)
Bek - (Shadow)
7% [13 Votes]

Kasabi - (Pressure Point)
Kasabi - (Pressure Point)
15% [28 Votes]

Hal Mellanby - (Aftermath)
Hal Mellanby - (Aftermath)
16% [30 Votes]

Hunda - (Traitor)
Hunda - (Traitor)
4% [8 Votes]

Deva - (Blake)
Deva - (Blake)
12% [23 Votes]

Other
Other
4% [8 Votes]

Votes: 186
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Started: 09 July 2016

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June 2020 Ficlet Challenge
purplecleric
VILA What is it?
AVON [On communicator] How do you feel?
VILA You woke me up to ask me how I feel?
AVON [On communicator] Can you walk?
VILA Why should I want to? - Orac


The word prompt this month is … SLOTH

A disinclination to action or labour, or spiritual apathy and inactivity. Much how I’m feeling after many weeks of lockdown and the hot weather!


For the second challenge, imagine that (once again) a crew member has been forgotten...
 
JustBrad
Jenna: Where's Gan?

Blake: Gan is dead.

Jenna: What happened?

Blake: The roof fell in on him.

Vila: Gan is tough. Are you sure he's dead?

Blake: Hmm... actually, a beam fell on his hip. He had that wide eyed stare, but I suppose he could have just been comatose. I didn't check his pulse and nothing seemed to have hit his ribs or his head... just that beam on his hip. I suppose.... (Turns to Veron) "You're welcome to come with us. "

Veron: I have a debt to pay, it must be paid here on Earth.

Vila: What about Gan. Are you sure he's dead.

Blake: Bring us up, Cally.
i.imgur.com/AD5ikh4.png
MODthra
 
Joe Dredd
Forgotten

We reappear in the teleport bay. Everyone is subdued. Blake looks grim; Vila morose; Jenna ashen. Even Avon, his clenched jaw and eyes glittering with diamond light betraying his impassive stance.

I can feel the grit all over my shoulders, my face, my hands. I brush a hand through my hair, back and forth, shaking out the dust.

Cally looks up with a frown.

"Where's Gan?" she asks, a knowing catch in her voice.

I open my mouth to say "I'm here" but --

"Gan's dead," says Blake, his voice hot with anger and loathing, daring anyone to say anything more.

I gasp at his words. I turn to him wide eyed, throwing out my arm to grab his shoulder. But no hand swings into view, no arm, nothing. There is nothing there.

And I--
 
Joe Dredd
"Utiliser to Sloth, Utiliser to Sloth. Domo the First, Five subjects."

"Zzzzzz."

"Mutoid, get my ref-o-dex. I'm going to have to rethink this plan."
 
Anniew
Ah Gan. Very bleakly funny take on his death and very bleakly sad take on his death.

And utiliser to Sloth is just brilliant,
Just because I can't sing doesn't mean I won't.
 
Vanessa Doffenshmirtz
Joe Dredd wrote:

Forgotten

We reappear in the teleport bay. Everyone is subdued. Blake looks grim; Vila morose; Jenna ashen. Even Avon, his clenched jaw and eyes glittering with diamond light betraying his impassive stance.

I can feel the grit all over my shoulders, my face, my hands. I brush a hand through my hair, back and forth, shaking out the dust.

Cally looks up with a frown.

"Where's Gan?" she asks, a knowing catch in her voice.

I open my mouth to say "I'm here" but --

"Gan's dead," says Blake, his voice hot with anger and loathing, daring anyone to say anything more.

I gasp at his words. I turn to him wide eyed, throwing out my arm to grab his shoulder. But no hand swings into view, no arm, nothing. There is nothing there.

And I--


That's powerful, Joe.
I used to be such a sweet sweet thing
Till they got a hold of me.
 
Travisina
Fantastic start to this month's challenges!
I can only echo what Annie said above - "Ah Gan. Very bleakly funny take on his death and very bleakly sad take on his death."
Twitter: @TravisinaB7
Tumblr: tumblr
A statement of fact cannot be insolent
 
Anniew
Well thank goodness, my writing mojo has returned. This actually came to me in a sort of waking dream.

***

Vila looked up as Cally entered the flight deck. He was sitting on the couch, Orac on the table in front of him, shuffling a pack of cards.

“Hey Cally. Look at this.” He waved a card at her excitedly. “Look.”

Cally moved to sit down beside him. The card in Vila’s hand depicted a woman in a flowing gown, surrounded by sunlight and flowers.

“Who’s this then, Orac?” He placed the card face down on the Perspex box and the lights within flashed rhythmically.

+The Empress of fecundity. A bountiful woman. Nurturing. Strong. The card represents Cally.+

Cally opened her mouth to speak but Vila hushed her with a gesture.

“And what do you predict for her?”

+A challenge is coming. She will need all her tact to deal with it.+

“What in the name of the seven Gods of Auron is this all about?”

Vila leaned towards her, shuffling the cards. “Orac’s interested in sharpening his predictive powers so he got Zen to rustle up these.” He waved a card at her.

+I am not sharpening my skills. I am researching the phenomenon of precognition...+

Cally ruthlessly interrupted the computer’s indignant protest.

“I don’t understand, Vila. What are they? How can a card predict anything?”

+The phenomenon... + Orac began, subsiding with an abrupt whine as Vila removed its key.

“Tarot cards,” he explained enthusiastically. “They’re pre-Calendar. They used them to predict the future way back. Orac found out about them and wanted to experiment. He reckons he can tell us what’s in store for us. Only a day at a time at the moment, but, if he practises... Useful, huh! Orac...” he replaced the key deftly and laid another card on the box. “What about this one?”

Orac whirred a bit. +The Fool,+ it announced decisively. + You, Vila Restal. You will have cause for regret before the day is out.+

“Charming! Remember I’ve only got to hide your key...”

“Oh Vila. It’s all a bit vague isn’t it? I have to practice tact everyday on this ship and you always have something to regret.”

“No, I think we’re on to something. You want to be safe don’t you? Try this one, Orac.”

+The Magician. Kerr Avon.+

“Figures,” Vila remarked wryly. “ Okay. What’s in store for our resident Magician today?”

+Kerr Avon is not where you think he is.”

“You mean he’s gone missing? Is he safe?”

“Currently he has been stripped naked and is being beaten.”

“What?” Vila and Cally started in alarm.

“That can’t be right, Orac. Both you and Zen assured us that Sparon was a perfectly safe planet.”

“He’s only buying lithium crystals. Even Avon couldn’t offend anyone that badly could he? Not enough to torture him. Not in half an hour.”

+Torture? Some would call it that. This is not a prediction. It’s an immutable certainty.”

“Tortured... That’s terrible. We’d better do something, Cally...” Vila leapt to his feet, the panic visible on his face.

Cally put out a restraining hand, “Wait a moment... something’s not right here. Orac...”

She was too late.

“Zen, lock onto Avon’s signature. Bring him up now,” Vila yelled as he bolted for the teleport bay.

Cally followed resignedly.

***

It did indeed take all of her tact to calm Avon down and shield him from the ribald jibes of Tarrant and the frank appraisal of Dayna. It is not easy finding yourself transported from a massage table to the cold deck of Liberator with only a Teleport bracelet and a thin covering of soap suds to protect your modesty.

“Idiot. I’ll make you regret this,” Avon shouted through his shivers at a blatantly amused, but apprehensive Vila.

“I was trying to save your life!” he whined. “It’s not my fault I’ve never heard of an Amagon bath. We didn’t get luxuries like that in the Delta quarters.”

Orac purred with satisfaction. It had all evolved exactly as he’d predicted.
Edited by Anniew on 04 June 2020 13:46:49
Just because I can't sing doesn't mean I won't.
 
Travisina
Brilliant, Annie! Grin
Twitter: @TravisinaB7
Tumblr: tumblr
A statement of fact cannot be insolent
 
littlesue
Oh Annie, that made me laugh (and I may have to have to have a cold shower now after all those soap suds!!!!!)
And I have had a lump in my throat with the Gan stories...so so sad.......
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
He's one I prepared earlier, but with a few little tweaks, works perfectly for this challenge...

VICTORY!

“We’ve done it!”, exclaimed Blake excitedly, after Orac teleported him back onto the Liberator. “All the explosives are laid and primed!”

Orac was perched on top of the teleport console. “I’m afraid…”, he began.

Blake interrupted him. “Orac, we don’t need to be afraid of anything anymore. We’ve done it! I’ve done it!”

He picked up Orac and skipped back to the flight deck, a beaming smile on his face, swinging the supercomputer back-and-forth as he did so.

“I really think that…”

Blake took out Orac’s key. The last thing he needed was negativity so close to his moment of triumph.

“Zen, put Space Command HQ on the screen.”

++CONFIRMED++

There it was. The massive space station. And then a series of huge explosions ripped it apart.

“Can you confirm that it has been totally destroyed?” said the grinning Blake.

++CONFIRMED++

Blake did a little jig of celebration.

“Right, let’s get of here, standard by twelve.”

++CONFIRMED++

Blake started to hum his favourite Beach Boys song. And then he went back to his cabin and dream of being King Of The Galaxy.

***

Blake awoke some hours later. The ear-to-ear grin was still on his face.

He strode back onto the flight deck while singing ‘I Should Be So Lucky’ by Kylie Minogue.

“Jenna, how it’s going? Have they launched any inceptors after us?”

Jenna’s seat was empty. Blake turned Orac on.

“Orac, where’s Jenna? Is she sleeping in her cabin? She really should be on duty – I’ll have to give her a good talking to. Just because I’m about to become Emperor Of The Universe doesn’t mean she should start becoming sloppy.”

“That’s what I was trying to tell you. You see, you left Space Command before Jenna Stannis had the chance to teleport back to the Liber…”

“WHAT???”, roared Blake, his mood changing instantly to anger. “Avon, this is your fault. You’ll have to go back and get her. Er, Avon… where are you?”

“You also left behind Avon. And Space Command HQ was completely obliterated.” If Blake hadn’t been so distraught, he would have noticed a slight chuckle to Orac’s statement.

“This is terrible”, cried out Blake. “Cally and Vila, we’ve lost Jenna and Avon.”

There was no response. Orac didn’t need to say anything this time. Blake took out the key and launched it across the flight deck, before he could receive any further bad news.

He sank to his knees, hands covering his face, moaning. He was still doing that an hour later. Blake was totally unresponsive to the words of warning from Zen. The interceptors hit, blasting Liberator into a billion fragments.

***

Jenna piloted the escape shuttle. “That was a close one”, she sighed. Avon, Cally and Vila murmured in agreement. “Now let’s find Blake and Liberator.”

THE END
Edited by trevor travis on 04 June 2020 15:35:57
 
GanMiniMe
Vila quickly pushed his bracelet out of sight up his sleeve. He looked around, and his mouth fell open.

Space City was not as disappointing as Blake had warned; it was even more beautiful than he had imagined. Everywhere there were bright light-up signs advertising good food, good drinks, good times, obliging women... everything that had been sorely lacking on the Liberator. He could not believe that Blake had wanted him to stay behind!

Vila let his instincts guide him to the right part of city- too upmarket and he would stick out like a sore thumb; too down-at-heel and he would probably get mugged. Following a promising-looking signpost, he made his way to a massage house. After a brief frisking by a thickset man at the door, he was ushered inside.
He could tell straightaway, by their clothes and their smouldering beauty, that the women in this spa were Amagons. This meant two things: that they would be expensive, and that it would be worth it.

One of the women approached.
“What would be your pleasure?” She asked. Vila opened his mouth to speak, but for a moment words failed him.
“Here at Sabina, we can help you experience the most intense emotions: excitement, joy, passion, the likes of which you have never known. What is it that you seek?”
“Relaxation,” Vila managed to say. “I’ve been working too hard. I want to drink, relax, and forget all my worries.”
Another stunningly beautiful woman came forward with a small glass. Too small for Vila’s taste; he looked at it disappointedly.
“This will help you to forget your troubles; it is only given in small measures,” the first woman said, reading aright his expression. “A small glass is all you will need. It is immensely potent, only the strongest can withstand more.”
“I’m strong!” Said Vila quickly. “I have been in and out of prisons for most of my life; I have been on the run from the Federation, nearly lost my life a dozen times. I’m here to enjoy myself. A nice, lazy time with plenty to drink.” And with that, he took the glass and swallowed its contents in one gulp. It was indescribable, but delicious.
“As you wish,” said his hostess, pouring him another glass in spite of her misgivings.

Some minutes and another drink later, he was lying face-down on a couch with one beautiful, not-too-overdressed woman massaging his head, another attending to his feet. The whole room seemed to swirl with wonderful colours and the air tingled with beautiful music.

This, he thought, is more like it.

Behind him, the curtain twitched slightly as two more women peered in. The first one was the woman Vila had first met. She turned to her companion.

“If he asks for another drink, water it down. We don’t want three in the space of a month.”
Edited by GanMiniMe on 05 June 2020 12:35:48
 
GanMiniMe
Oh my giddy aunt, Anniew- I wrote and submitted mine before reading yours!! I promise!! Great minds think alike... well, sort of...

Come on, Lurena, get your pencils out- that is BEGGING for an illustration!!
 
Ellen York
Good to see the crew getting some R&R Smile But poor Avon having his bath interrupted, should have take off his teleport bracelet.
 
Anniew
It felt like goodbye. Goodbye to her beloved ship. Yet she was aware of other emotions alongside the stabbing pain of regrets. Relief. Excitement. A lifting of a burden she hadn’t known she was carrying. Partly her fault of course. She should have spoken up earlier.

It had seemed so reasonable at first: “I need someone on board I can trust.” I need Avon with me, so I can keep an eye on him.” Then, before she knew it: “Operate the teleport Jenna.” “Stay here, Jenna, we can manage.” Lately, just a terse: “ Avon and I will handle this.”

All the excuses she made to herself. “He’s stressed out, just do it.” “He needs to know one of us obeys orders.” “Why would I want to visit such a hell hole?” That’s all they were. Excuses. Excuses when what she really wanted to say was, “I’m far the best qualified to accompany you on this mission.” “Stop treating me like part of the furniture.” “When did I lose your respect?” Just laziness really, that failure to speak up. She become accepting of her role because facing the emotional consequences of challenging it had seemed too hard.

It’s stuffy inside the escape pod. The sweat runs into her eyes. The vibrations and g forces are beginning to rattle her to her bones. Exhilarating, she thinks as she is thrown back and forth in her seat; this adrenaline rush of danger. Her old friend. How she’s missed it. If she gets down safely, that’s it. She’s not going back.

***

He should have said it. Not, “I’ve always trusted you.” He should have said, “If I survive this, Avon, I’m leaving. I can’t run a revolution like this. I’m needed on the ground.” He should have told him that he’d been in touch with Avalon, long before they had become aware of the Andromendons. That he had agreed to join forces with her after he took out Star One.

Cowardice perhaps, that he hadn’t? More likely complacency. Somehow it was easier to pretend he was only leaving in order to secure Avon’s help. And it had worked hadn’t it? It wasn’t as if he owed Avon any truth. No, letting Avon think it was his decision to get him off the ship was by far the best way of keeping him on-side.

But deep down he knows these are the comfortable lies we tell ourselves to excuse our emotional sloth.

He should, at least, have said goodbye.

Now it’s too late.
Just because I can't sing doesn't mean I won't.
 
GanMiniMe
Aaah, AnnieW, that was sad. I love B7 for the complexity of the interplay between the characters, and there is so much that isn’t said. You’ve tapped into that so well!
 
littlesue
GanMiniMe wrote:

Aaah, AnnieW, that was sad. I love B7 for the complexity of the interplay between the characters, and there is so much that isn’t said. You’ve tapped into that so well!


My Grandson expressed that sentiment....there is so much that isn't said...while watching the series with me a few years ago.
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/
 
Spaceship Dispatcher
S.LOTH

Servalan looked at the man slumped back in his chair on the opposite side of the silver, disk shaped table and sighed. Why were traitors so hard to kill now? Blake was still out there, but this was not him, not a worthy opponent. Loth had played a second rate political manoeuvre that had led him directly to her, directly to this moment. Or, at least, it should have been a moment, the single and final moment of his withdrawal from politics, of his death by her hand. Well, by her hand and those of the chemists that had created the fateful and fatal preparation administered to his final drink. Loth’s one achievement in his pathetic life was to make this the most tedious assassination she had ever witnessed. First, he had stopped talking, the light fading from his eyes. From leaning across the table towards her, a mannerism worthy of death in itself for its impertinence, he had sat back in his chair as though exhausted and then, as now, slumped backwards. Breathing slower, his eyes dropping lower with each… tired… blink. There was no movement, except a cup clattering to the floor and spilling what was left of its deadly contents. Servalan did not care if the drug was identified, if her involvement were suspected. It would merely send a message to anyone that was tempted to follow him. They would follow him, here.

The door slid closed behind the departing figure of Servalan, and Loth waited, semi-conscious, to hear it reopen, for his assistant to enter. Through a haze, he was vaguely aware of someone rushing towards him, of others following, of seeing the cup raised in the air amidst agitated cries, of speeding along the space station’s corridors on a stretcher to the Med Centre. Was it minutes or hours, or days, later when he awoke? At first, Loth was not sure. Someone was calling his name. It came again, this time as an urgent whisper. Loth took a deep breath. His body ached, but he was alive. His training had saved him. Another deep breath followed, his pulse quickened, pumping blood around his body, now cleansed of the poison. His metabolism returning to its normal speed, Sanatra Loth opened his eyes. The gambit, the most risky of his life, had worked. Alive, he was a target. Officially dead, his only target now was the Federation.
 
Spaceship Dispatcher
The steady beat of heavy boots echoed along the otherwise silent, featureless underground corridors. Grey, cracked concrete and plaster, framed by unyielding grey metal, every door an impassable obstacle to escape. In short, there was no escape. No getting away from the fear, the torture, the anguish, the quickening of his pulse as he approached the cell, and the racing of the prisoner’s heartbeat as the beat of the boots grew closer and closer until the locks on the door clicked open, the ultimate moment of two beautifully contrasting and opposite emotions. The cell door was in front of him, his hand quivering with anticipation as it reached out to unlock the… synthetic hot drink whitener. Surely it was on the list? But it hadn’t been in the small polythene bag with the other items. Was it left behind by the Pay Scanner, or was it still sitting there in the Chilled Repository with all the other dull, featureless white bottles? You couldn’t have a hot drink without any synthetic drink whitener! What was he here for again? This was a prison cell. You can’t buy synthetic hot drink whitening supplements in prison cells. Whatever he was here for could wait. By the time he got back to the stores, then his Living Space, it would be time for a break anyway. He stared at the plain, grey door and it stared right back at him. No, no idea. Whatever. It was one of those days. Turning on his heel and retracing his steps back out of the Detention Zone, the steady beat of Shrinker’s boots receded back along the corridor.

(The challenge doesn't specify who they were forgotten by...)
 
JustBrad
Spaceship Dispatcher wrote:



(The challenge doesn't specify who they were forgotten by...)


Clever
i.imgur.com/AD5ikh4.png
MODthra
 
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