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Horizon Advent Calendar 2014
Every year I send a Christmas card to my friends and enclose a short Christmas story written by yours truly. The following was my story for 2011. It has nothing to do with B7 - except for one little detail. The protagonist is a character who is mentioned in the Bible, but the Good Book does not tell us his name. At first, I tried to come up with a genuine and meaningful Hebrew name of that period. Then I had a brainwave: what we know about this guy is his profession - he was a thief. Guess what I did ...

The Christmas Story That Begins At Easter

When Vila ben Restal ... well, let's say when he opened his eyes, although these were no longer eyes like you and I have - at that moment he did not have the slightest clue to the nature of the strange environment in which he had awakened, nor did he recognise the man who stood opposite to him.

"Where am I?" Granted, this was not a very ingenious question, but let's be lenient: It is not an everyday experience to get crucified and to wake up again in Heaven.

"I promised you that you will be with me in Paradise," the other man smiled.

Now the memories flooded back, and with them came recognition. Yes, this was the man who had suffered at the neighbouring cross, the man he had recognised as the Messiah, the man he had begged to remember him.

In amazement, Vila ben Restal looked around. Clouds towered at all sides, and upon them angels and blessed souls resided, rejoicing and jubilating. "I led an evil life," the sinner confessed, "and only because I recognised you in my last minutes you welcome me to Paradise?"

"Well, you have indeed much to answer for," Jesus said seriously, "don't think that you will get away without any penance!" He beckoned ben Restal to follow him, turned around and walked away. The poor sinner had no choice than to follow him through cottony meadows, harp sound and choir song. There was only one thing that did not really fit this peaceful cloudscape: a giant cumulonimbus that towered gloomily in front of them. To Vila ben Restal's dismay it was this cloud to which his heavenly guide headed straightforwardly.

At last they reached the threatening thunderstorm mountain. In front of them a cloud gate wafted in the cloud walls. "This is one of the storehouses where we usually stack the treasures that good people lay up in heaven," Jesus explained, inserting a golden key into the lock and turning it around solemnly, "however, your storehouse contains something else."

He opened the door and pointed invitingly into the interior of the cloud. His astral heart bumping, Vila ben Restal tiptoed into the storage. It was dark inside, and not before Jesus followed him and lightened up the interior by means of his nimbus, the sinner could see the things that were piled up in here. His knees weakened.

"You recognise these things?"

Vila ben Restal nodded, admitting his guilt.

"These are all the goods and chattels that you stole during your lifetime," Jesus continued (relentlessly, you could say, if this word fitted him). He threw his head back so that his nimbus beamed upwards to the highest heights, miles and miles up the interior of the cloud storage, but nowhere they could spot the top of this heap of stolen goods. "It is incredible that in the short life-span admeasured to Man, one single man can steal such a mass of things," Jesus marvelled, "you arbitrarily stole from each and everyone. You did not even spare the children! What loads of toys alone you took for yourself!"

Vila ben Restal bowed his head in shame. "What is my penance?"

"You will put all the stolen goods to a good cause," Jesus demanded, "every year, in the night when the people celebrate my birthday, you will set out to make presents to the righteous, in particular the children. You will do this until you have removed this whole lot. Not before then you can relish the joys of Paradise."

Again Vila ben Restal bowed his head, feeling discouraged. "This is a fair penance," he sighed, "I accept."

"Good." With an encouraging smile Jesus picked up an old grey coat that lay on the cottony floor in front of the heap. "You may keep this," he said, handing the coat to the thief, "you will need it. The people will celebrate my birthday in winter. When you acquit yourself well, maybe someone will treat you to a new coat, maybe even in a more cheerful colour."

Vila ben Restal sighed, put on the coat and glanced up to the dizzying heights of the cloud store. He had much to do.

And as he comes even now after 2000 years in every Christmas night to give presents to the people, you can imagine how successful a thief he had been.
Happy Christmas to everyone at Horizon.

For Day 20 of the advent calendar here is a Festive photo:

Please click on the photos for larger versions.


and here is a (Festive-ish) Quiz.


Lastly a chance to win a painted, by me, and mounted 28mm Metal Federation Guard figure from the fabulous Crooked Dice range, posted anywhere in the world.


Play the quiz just for fun, or if you want to be in for a chance to win the above figure either send me a forum PM, or email your answers to me at:


Please put 'Horizon Quiz' in the subject heading and include your answers, board name and a contact email address.

Winners will be drawn by my own personal ORAC at the end of the computing session (Midnight) on Tuesday 23rd December.

Good luck and Happy and Peaceful Holidays to All.



Vila - "I plan to live forever - or die trying"
trevor travis

What would have happened in “Blake” had Og survived “Animals” and become part of the Scorpio crew?

Blake and Arlen entered the main tracking gallery. Avon, having shot Klyn moments earlier, kept his gun raised. Arlen was armed, but Blake was not. All the time the sound of the alarm continued in the background.

Tarrant asked the inevitable question: “Is it him?”

“It’s him”, Vila confirmed. Even five years older and with the scar, Blake was unmistakable. Vila wasn’t sure if he was pleased to see him or not. Blake used to have a habit of almost getting them all killed. That may not have changed. Vila had no plans to die quite yet.

Tarrant proclaimed: “He sold us, Avon. All of us. Even you.”

Avon approached Blake, lowering his gun.

There was a hint of incredulity in the voice of Avon. “Is it true?”

“Avon, it’s me, Blake.” Blake started to move forward towards his old friend.

“Stand still”, ordered Avon. Blake did so. “Have you betrayed us? Have you betrayed me?”

“Tarrant doesn’t understand.”

“Neither do I, Blake!”

“I set all this up!”, barked Blake. Had he realised what Avon has been through in the last few years, he might have worded that a little more carefully.

“Yes!” Avon was no longer thinking rationally. His mind was set. Blake had betrayed him. Just like Anna.

“Avon, I was waiting for you.”

Blake started walking forward again. A fatal mistake. Avon pointed the gun at Blake and shot him in the gut.

Blake didn’t fall. Avon shot him again.

Still Blake continued to walk. Avon shot him a third time.

Blake reached Avon. He was a bloody mess. Avon grabbed him to keep him upright.

Blake looked Avon in the eye, and Avon realised his mistake.

“Avon…” Blake’s knees buckled and Avon allowed his dead body to collapse to the floor. Og howled in despair, and Dayna patted Og affectionately on the head.

At the moment, Deva rushed in. “Blake! They’ve found us! The base is under…” He trailed off, stopping cold at the sight of Blake’s body. “Arlen, what happened?”

Arlen indicated towards Avon. “He happened.” She then turned and shot Deva, and he crashed against a wall, dead.

Arlen then turned towards Vila, Tarrant, Dayna and Soolin. “Be so kind to drop your guns all of you.” They complied. “You and this nest of rebels are now prisoners of the Federation. Your friend Blake said he couldn't tell anymore who was Federation and who wasn't. He was right. He couldn't.”

Tarrant flashed his most charming smile, trying to get Arlen to drop her guard. It didn’t work. “You’re a Federation agent?”

“I'm a Federation officer.”

“Oh, now, look, I've never been against the Federation”. Vila crossed over to Arlen. “I mean, I've only ever been along for the ride. I'm not even armed. You can't kill me. I'm completely harmless and armless.”

At the moment, Dayna went for a gun. She didn’t make it in time. Arlen shot her and Dayna fell into the arms of Tarrant. Tarrant laid her down on the floor. Og howled uncontrollably at the apparent death of his mistress. Soolin put a reassuring hand on Og’s shoulder.

Two things then happened almost simultaneously. Vila struck out with a karate-type move to hit Arlen in the face. Meanwhile, an enraged Og charged straight at Arlen. Vila was just apologising to Arlen for knocking her unconscious when Og reached him and Vila was sent tumbling out of the way, as a gunshot rang out.

The Federation guard cursed. But for that stupid beast getting into the way, he’d had a clear shot.

More Federation guards spilled into the room, but Og’s momentum took him straight into them. Several guards were sent crashing to the floor. Og continued to see the red mist and continued to charge at the startled Federation guards. Og was oblivious to their shots; it required a harpoon to take him down, not a mere Federation gun.

Og’s distraction allowed Soolin and Tarrant time to recover their wits. They collected a gun each and ducked for cover.

As the Federation guards recovered their footing, Soolin and Tarrant picked them off one-by-one. They were helped by Og still causing bedlam by attacking several guards and sending a couple to the floor, as his sharp horns impacted into their bodies.

Avon had not moved. He stood right in the middle of the room, beside Blake’s body. He straddled the body. “Avon”, called Tarrant, “for goodness sake, get yourself under cover.”

Avon took no notice. Tarrant noted none of the guards shot Avon; they obviously wanted him alive. It seemed the same didn’t apply to him or Soolin, given the shots fired in their direction. Meanwhile, Vila seemed to have disappeared. “Probably hiding under a table somewhere”, thought Tarrant. Tarrant couldn’t blame him. He’d already done his job in disarming Arlen. Vila was no good in a gun fight, that’s why they had Soolin, a skilled and very fast gunslinger. She was in her element. Tarrant had shot two or three guards; Soolin had killed the rest.

With a growing number of dead Federation bodies on the floor, the battle was almost won. Just one Federation guard was left. He decided he would shot Avon, an easy target in the middle of the room. But Soolin gunned down the guard. She’d saved Avon’s skin once more.

The alarm ceased and Avon finally came to his senses. He looked at the dead body of Blake beneath him, and then at the dead bodies strewn around the floor. He smiled. Vila, coming out of hiding, shuddered. He didn’t like it when Avon smiled.

Meanwhile, Og had halted his mad charge and was weeping over the inert body of Dayna. Dudley Simpson and his mini-orchestra struck up a particularly mournful piece of music.

Tarrant placed a consoling hand on the animal’s shoulder. “It’s no good, Og. Dayna is dead.”

At that moment, Dudley Simpson’s mournful music came to a screeching halt, and Dayna sat up.

“Actually, I'm not sure I am. Fortunately that cigarillo box my father gave me was placed exactly at the point where I was shot. I always said smoking was good for you.”

Tarrant was perplexed. “But Dayna, I didn’t see a concealed cigarillo box”.

“You never see the concealed explosives either.”

“Fair point.” They both laughed, while Og beat his chest in delight.

Soolin moved over to Avon. “We need to get out of here pretty damn quickly,” she said. “There could be more Federation guards about. I doubt we’ll be flavour of the month with any of his friends either,” she nodded down to Blake’s dead body.

Avon smiled again. “Probably. I know exactly where we need to head.”


Within half an hour, Avon had retrieved Orac from the bush where he had concealed him, they had found the docking port, and Vila had broken into a ship.

Avon looked over to Tarrant. “Just fly us out of here as soon as possible.”

Within another five minutes, they had left Gauda Prime.


Soolin asked: “So what is this ship, Avon?”

“According to Orac, it used to belong to a man called Roj Blake. I don’t think he’ll be needing it again, do you? I wouldn’t bother trying to talk to Orac at the moment. He’s currently making sure we don’t run into that blockade again.”

Vila said: “And then what Avon? Xenon Base is destroyed, Scorpio is no more, and you shot Blake.” Vila put particular emphasis on the word ‘you’. He didn’t trust Avon any more. Not since that incident on the shuttle.

However, Avon seemed more relaxed than he had for a while. The death of Blake had been some sort of release for him. Plus he relished being in a crisis.

“I’ll tell you, Vila. We make a quick landing and take-off, and take the Star Drive off the wreckage of Scorpio. We land at the nearest planet and fit that into this ship. Not only that, but Orac and I can now fit a teleport to any ship in the matter of weeks. Orac has the full specification what is required and we still have the crystals in the bracelets on our wrists.”

Avon looked around the other faces. All were listening to him. He continued.

“And then we run and keep running. Trying to fight the Federation would have just got us killed sooner. The Rebel Alliance is no more. And one more thing…” Avon smiled.

“What’s that?” asked Dayna.

“I noticed the date on the calendar on Gauda Prime. And I think we need to celebrate. Vila, can you break into this?” He nodded over to Blake’s drinks cabinet.

Vila set to work, and thirty seconds later, the door sprang open. He poured everyone a glass of a green liquid.

Avon looked around the group. “Here's a toast. A Happy Christmas to all of us.”

Tarrant smiled: “The same to you, Avon.”

In a terrible breach of the fourth wall, Avon then looked directly forwards. “And a Merry Christmas to all you reading on the Horizon website!”

The image of our heroes started to shrink, until there was just a small circle showing Og, who winked at... well, he winked at us. He spoke his first-ever words. “That’s all folks!”

Edited by trevor travis on 21 December 2014 18:49:14
President Solvite
Please forgive me for posting this early (but if I was to leave this for the 22nd, I wouldn't be able to post till very late!) Besides it must be the 22nd down under now..

'Yule Og'


Vila teleports down to planet Bucol 2 to have a Christmas drink with his old buddy Og


Meanwhile Cally and Dayna drag the boys off to do some Xmas shopping..


Happy days, Cheers everyone!


Several drinks later...


Og: *belches*


One of the benefits of being a crocheted character are that hangovers clear up very quickly!

Merry Christmas Everyone! Grin
It's 23rd December, the Eve of Christmas Eve as well as the last night of Chanukah!

This is from Vilakins -


(Click on the picture for a larger version)

You can read her seasonal story here: Let There Be Light
Twitter: @TravisinaB7
Tumblr: tumblr
There's no point being grown up if you can't be childish sometimes
Joe Dredd
Me and my Delorean seem to have already reached the 24th, so let's open the last door. It's a big one...

Holy mackerel! It's a flood of stuff! Let's see what you've got, everyone!

"I never knew there was so much in it!"
Joe Dredd
Joe Dredd
There's always lots of repeats on at this time of year. Gan will end up having three Christmas dinners, Tarrant will fly all the right spaceships but not necessarily in the right order, and Avon will try to get that turkey off his head using the micro-grenade cartridge, "with hilarious results!"


Joe Dredd
Got an iPad and an iPod? Well, round out the collection this Christmas with an iPud!

Joe Dredd
Come to think of it, Gan having three dinners probably isn't that unusual! : D
Joe Dredd
Vila loves Christmas crackers, though he often finds the jokes and trinkets inside a little lacking. This Christmas he decided to amp up the crackers by sliding some extra trinkets into each one. For Jenna there's some earrings, for Cally he added a necklace made of lolly teeth, and in Avon's cracker he put a lump of coal.

He also wrote out some extra riddles, rolled them around a graphite writing stick and slid them into the crackers.

The jokes he wrote were:

Where did the notorious warlord Zukan keep his armies?
Up his sleevies.

A truck carrying copies of the new Thesaurus by Belhangria University Press crashed today. Witnesses were stunned, amazed, shocked, startled, staggered, aghast, taken aback....

What's the best way to get a youthful figure?
Ask Servalan her age.

How did the Andromedan know he was attractive?
Bits of metal kept sticking to him.

Did you hear about the time Gan put on a clean pair of socks every day?
By the end of the week he couldn't get his boots on.

Which side of a warg strangler has the most scales?
The outside.

Letting criminals associate together is always a bad idea. Look at Nova - a few months on the London and he ended up a hardened criminal.

Why was the cannibal expelled from Leedenbrank?
He kept buttering up the teacher.

Last week Gan sewed up all the holes in his socks. Now he can't get his feet into them.

The chef at Freedom City makes great ice cream. He learned at Sundae School.

Judge: Prisoner at the bar, you have been brought here for drinking.
Vila: Terrific! Mine's a pint, please!

Orac: Ensor gave me the ability to predict the future.
Cally: Since when?
Orac: Next Tuesday.

Avon: Hey Blake, I can't make any friends on your spaceship, you stupid idiot!

Why did Gan put on his jacket and parka when repainting his bunk?
The instructions on the paint tin said, "For best results put on two coats."

Avon and Del Grant had to disarm a bomb hidden in one of the polar caps of Albion. How did they stop their mouths from freezing up in the inhospitable condition?
They grit their teeth.

What does Bayban the Butcher have in common with Winnie the Pooh?
They both have the same middle name.

How do frogs turn invisible?
They use croaking devices.

Why did Avon slip over in Justin's library?
He was in the non-friction section.

It's 99% of Federation officers that give the rest a bad name.

How many surrealists does it take to change a light bulb?
Two. One to hold the giraffe and the other to melt the toffee.

Why does sopron never say thank you?
It takes everything for granite.

Why was Justin never lonely?
He was good at making friends.

Travis: When you're dead Blake, I'll dance on your grave!
Blake: Good. I'm being buried at sea.

Joe Dredd
To Absent Friends

Terry Nation
David Jackson
Vere Lorrimer
Peter Tuddenham
Janet Lees Price

To our friends, their families, and our missing loved ones.

You are in our hearts at this time too.
I'm posting my 'free for all' entry a tad early as I'm too busy tomorrow. You wonderfully creative people have inspired me so this ficlet marks my return to writing B7 fanfic.

Ice and Fire

It was a universe of ice and fire.

Blazing suns and glacial moons, vibrant supernovas and indifferent black holes. It was planets teeming with vitality and the desolate vacuum of space. It was life and death.

It was in his words.

“What do you want to be - rich or dead?”

It was in the sparkle and glitter strewn over the table; in the frosty flash of crystal and gem, in the hard gleam of his eyes. And it was in the cold metal links and the steely logic of his rationale.

She eyed the angular planes of his face, his precise manner, and thought. Thought of the hard scrabble, scratching a living as a smuggler, no matter how good she had been. She thought of easy money.

And then she thought of another man.

A man whose eyes smouldered with fervour, a man who lit a spark in her. A man who had begun to thaw a part of her she hadn’t even realised was frozen. She thought of a path more difficult to take.

“But what about Blake?”

And the answer came with the brutal honesty she knew would always come with this man.

“What about him?”

And what about hope? The small seed planted in the barren wasteland of her reality, nurtured with warm laughter and the generosity of gestures. What of dreams? Their nascent spark fanned by the passion for a cause. Suddenly, it was no longer simple, no longer clear cut.

There was a choice.

There was stark reality or the promise of more; the here- and-now or the maybe-future.

And there were two men.

One who would cut her with his wit, who would expect nothing from her but her skills, who would give nothing but would take nothing. And one who would caress her with his laughter, would welcome her with his openness, but would demand more than she ever thought she had.

Profit or prophet?

A life of frigid fatalism had leeched the ardour from her soul, but she was drawn to the small flame flickering in the cold, dark void. Moth-like, she fluttered.

“An hour. We'll wait an hour.”

When Blake calls, she feels the pull; dream- wings take flight and she is consumed.

Much later - when she ran the final blockade, when she hit the self-destruct, when the ship was lost in fire and when the icy eternity of death claimed her - many thoughts went through her mind.

But no regrets.
Too rainy to take a photo of the street where I live ... instead, I have a video message for you: http://youtu.be/C...

I hope I haven't forgotten anyone ... Wink

(And I also hope I haven't totally embarrassed myself ...)
A little Holiday madness from the Black Family and Friends.......



Here is a short video Brad took while he and I plus Trevor Travis and Spaceship Dispatcher attended 2012's Dimension's Convention in Newcastle Upon Tyne. To explain, we attended the charity auction and Trevor Travis bid and won time in a full-sized Dalek. The trick of it all was trying to get 6'2" TT into and out of the Dalek. While he was 'ensconced' so to speak, we followed him around as we had no idea what he had in mind. It soon became apparent that he was making a bee-line, or whatever a Dalek does- to Ms. Jacqueline Pearce, at the end of the hall in the Big Finish room signing copies of her autobiography. What ensued was a surprise and shock to us unknowing accomplices but a highlight of the convention and a very happy memory of four friends trying their best to subvert a Doctor Who convention into a Blake's 7 one. Watch for glimpses of SD and me (Paula) while we followed our friend TT and enjoy a short but fantastic moment in Blake's 7 and Horizon club's history.
Edited by BradPaula on 24 December 2014 04:01:14
Zil: Oneness must resist the Host.
Space Chopper
Well, this time of year is also the 33rd anniversary of THAT moment, and I often wondered what would happen if it had been turned into song. A Christmas song, no less. Not only that, but a song that would show us what was going through the minds of the two main characters at the climax of the episode, had they had the chance to talk before, or while, they were shooting each other. So, to the tune of one of the most popular Christmas singles ever, I give you...

The Fairy Tale Of Gauda Prime
(With apologies to the Pogues and Kirsty MacColl)

(Avon: )
It was December Blake,
On planet Xenon,
A warlord messed with me and several other ones,
And then he bit the dust,
he blew our base up too,
I turned my face away
And thought about you.

We went on the run
I packed my biggest gun I've got a feeling
This time it’s me and you
So happy Christmas
I’m with you Blake,
I can see a better time
When all our dreams come true

(Blake: )
They've got cruisers and ships
They've got blasters and guns
But this life is worth living
Though we’re on the run
When you first joined my crew
On a cold January day
You said to me
Freedom was so far away

You were hardened and reckless
You were bitter and feckless
When Star One had fallen
It started the war
Travis had died,
Servalan had her pride
We fought off the aliens
Then I said goodbye

The Federation troopers swarm
Into the docking bay
And their guns are blasting out
For Christmas day

(Avon: )
You're mad You're a fool
Forgot my golden rule
You tested my trust when you know I have none

(Blake: )
But Avon it’s me
This is great, can’t you see?
I did all this for you
So that we could come through

The Federation troopers swarm
Into the docking bay
And their guns are blasting out
For Christmas day

Angry *zap* Angry *zap* Angry*Zaaap*

(Blake: )
You shot me with your gun
The troops have over-run
You took my life from me
Just when I’d found you

(Avon: )
You broke my trust Blake
I’ll make it on my own
‘Cause now I’m back alone
This season’s not about you

The Federation troopers swarm
Into the docking bay
And their guns are blasting out
For Christmas day
Vila: "I plan to live forever- or die trying..."
There are lots of surprises piled up for today! Here's the first: a poem written specially for Horizon by the late, lovely Vere Lorrimer. It was originally published in Horizon Newsletter no.32

Christmas Poem
Vere Lorrimer

The post has just come through the door -
It's two feet deep upon the floor!
This means Good Will to All on Earth
With scenes that show our Saviour's birth;
So happily, with joy and hope,
I gaily lift each envelope -
With chores like this we all can cope!
What's this? Oh, no!  My joy's erased -
'Why aren't your windows double-glazed?
Just ring this number right away -
(We're open all through Christmas Day)'
'Dear Reader, say in twenty words
Why you're so fond of custard (Bird's)
And you could win a prize unique:
A hol. for two in Mozambique!'
'Buy now and join the hygiene boom:
A bidet in your smallest room!
You'll be the envy of your friends -
But hurry ere this offer ends.'

That's it - no more! I'm feeling faint -
What's this?  'This Season be a Saint -
Please help to feed the newts of Rome -
Ten pounds can give a newt a home.'

Well, sorry, newts, I know you're dear,
But I have had it up to here!
Yet, stop!  What's this? (I'm breathing hard)
Can this small something be a card?
It is! Handwritten, too. How jolly! -
Snow and robins, stars and holly -
The Holy Child, a pure white dove -
"This comes to you with all our love"
Then two small words - but wondrous still -
"Happy Christmas - Joan and Bill..."

How good to know, when life is rotten,
By some sweet friends one's not forgotten.
Twitter: @TravisinaB7
Tumblr: tumblr
There's no point being grown up if you can't be childish sometimes
To Horizon

To Horizon

Twitter: @TravisinaB7
Tumblr: tumblr
There's no point being grown up if you can't be childish sometimes
Joe Dredd
And now for an edition of "Up Your Street".

Here's how things look on Christmas Eve in Sydney.

How does it look in your part of the world?

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