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March 2015 Fanfic Challenge
I'm very much intrigued by your story, TT. Can't wait for part two!
Zil: Oneness must resist the Host.
Ooh Trevor Travis. You are so mean. How long are you planning to keep us waiting for the continuation? Such an intriguing tale!
Just because I can't sing doesn't mean I won't.
trevor travis
Anniew wrote:

Ooh Trevor Travis. You are so mean. How long are you planning to keep us waiting for the continuation? Such an intriguing tale!

It depends on Purplecleric's prompts next month and whether and I can pick it up from there, or wait a month or two. Smile

I know who the protagonist is, and I know how it's going to end. Beyond that, it depends what PC provides each month as to exactly where it's going to go.
Noooo! Not months. I've all these theories buzzing in my brain. Dorian's back from the dead. Carnell has reappeared and master minded Terminal. Avon's brother is involved. It's about the President..or Dev Tarrant...or...

As bad as waiting to find out how Voledemort was killed!
Just because I can't sing doesn't mean I won't.
The following is an extract from The Eye - a full length story that will be appearing in the forthcoming Scorpio Attack zine. It's pure coincidence that the subject fit this month's prompt word!

Vila was the last to regain consciousness.

It had taken Cally some time to locate him; her other crew mates were already treating each others' injuries in the medical unit, when she found the thief. He was curled up tightly between the flight deck's central couch and an overturned games table, and she wondered how he had squeezed himself into such a small space. A coward, practiced in hiding, she thought uncharitably, the pain of her own injuries making her unsympathetic.

Cally righted the table, kicked aside the broken game pieces and crouched beside him. She knew better than to touch him or speak aloud. Instead she reached out with her mind, telepathically calling his name until he stirred.

Moaning softly, Vila uncurled and opened his eyes. Cally was expecting to see shock and lack of recognition, had braced herself for a violent reaction. But all she saw in his face was fear.

“Cally? Is that you?” He blinked, trying to focus. “Not… not a monster?”

“It's me, Vila. You are safe.”

“Where did it go?”

“There were no monsters. You've been hallucinating.”

He stared at her. “But it got you – you're hurt!”

She touched the tender part of her cheek, where she could feel a bruise forming. “Avon did this.”

“Avon did that to you? Why?” Vila sniffed. “And why can I smell burning?” He struggled into a sitting position, looking around the flight deck, where the auto-repair systems were working to contain electrical fires and restore smashed consoles. “Look at all the damage – we've been attacked!”

“There was nothing here,” Cally stated firmly. “No monsters, Federation troopers or Andromedans.”

“Apparently,” said Avon, entering the flight deck with the others, “we did this ourselves. For some reason, we all started seeing things and attacked each other.” He descended the stairs cautiously, favouring his right leg.

“Not all of us,” Dayna corrected him, her voice slightly muffled by her swollen lip. “Cally wasn't affected by whatever it was that possessed us.”

“And Vila hid,” said Tarrant disdainfully, crossing to the pilot's position. His right hand was bandaged and he poked clumsily at the damaged flight controls with his left forefinger.

“I'm glad I did,” retorted Vila. “You look awful. All I’ve got is a killer headache.” He leaned his head in his hands. “And some horrible memories...”

Avon turned to him sharply. “What do you remember? Think, Vila – it's important.”

“I…“ Vila frowned. The images in his mind that had been so vivid were now fading, leaving only vague impressions of fear, loss and pain. “I can't… it's going away. Like a bad dream.”

“Same here,” said Dayna. “None of us can quite remember.”

“So what did happen, Cally?” Vila scrambled up from the floor and took a seat on the couch...


The Eye will be printed in the next issue of the Blake's 7 fanzine Scorpio Attack. Full details of the fanzine and how to order will be made available on Horizon soon.
Huge thanks to Beta Reader purplecleric! Smile
Twitter: @TravisinaB7
Tumblr: tumblr
A statement of fact cannot be insolent
Travisina, that's a great extract. Can't wait to buy the magazine and read it all. I'm so lad it's going to contain fiction pieces. I wasn't sure.
Just because I can't sing doesn't mean I won't.
Anniew wrote:

Travisina, that's a great extract. Can't wait to buy the magazine and read it all. I'm so lad it's going to contain fiction pieces. I wasn't sure.

I don't know whether other fiction pieces have been submitted, but it will have at least one story Smile
Twitter: @TravisinaB7
Tumblr: tumblr
A statement of fact cannot be insolent
travisina. That's really clever. Love the interaction. Your Vila is so spot on!
Just because I can't sing doesn't mean I won't.
At last the fogs of March are clearing (it's all been a bit hectic this month), so I've been able to do the second ficlet as well:

They crouched uncomfortably under the bench. Dayna opened her mouth to speak but Tarrant silenced her with a long finger held to his lips. Her eyes widened as she heard the noise. Ears straining, holding their breath, they listened to the sound of footsteps drawing near.

The footsteps stopped beside the bench. Turning her head slightly, Dayna was relieved to see that the boots weren't the heavy black ones of Federation troopers, but softer and tan in colour. The wearer’s trousers were blue.

“It’s Vila,” she told Tarrant, relieved.

"You're doing it all wrong," said Vila conversationally.

"You have no idea what we're doing," snapped Tarrant.

"Neither have you, by the looks of things. That's not the way to hide." Vila leaned down and extended his hand to Dayna, who grudgingly allowed him to help her out from under the bench. Tarrant crawled after her, hitting his head as he stood up.

Vila sighed and rolled his eyes. "Didn't they teach you anything at the Federation Academy?"

"I was taught to fight, Vila, not to hide. Hiding's for cowards."

"Maybe so, but it's a useful skill, especially when Dayna’s grenade doesn’t go off, and you lose your gun. And if you do have to hide, it’s important to get it right. Look at your surroundings." Vila took in the warehouse with a sweeping gesture. "Anyone searching for you is first going to look at eye level, so don't hide behind anything that's the same height as yourself, right? The next thing they'll do is look down. Gravity, you know?"

"What do you mean, gravity?"

"They might drop something that rolls in your direction. Or the arm holding the flashlight gets tired and points downwards. Besides, looking down is less strain on the neck.” Vila tilted his head back. “Look - high shelves, cubby holes, tops of storage units. Those would be the last places they’ll try. Anyway, I've come to tell you that the coast is clear. Avon and Soolin have seen off the remaining guards, and we can start loading Scorpio now."

He took a final look around the warehouse as they made their way out. "High, not low," Vila repeated. "You never know; one day your life may depend on it."


(Travisina, still traumatised by Orbit...)
Twitter: @TravisinaB7
Tumblr: tumblr
A statement of fact cannot be insolent
@Peladon - that's lovely, really moving.
@TT - You're picking up bad habits from Spaceship Dispatcher - I can't cope with all these cliff hangers and to-be-continueds! It's fun, and I'm looking forward to the April sequel... there will be an April sequel, won't there?
Twitter: @TravisinaB7
Tumblr: tumblr
A statement of fact cannot be insolent
@Anniew - thank you for the nice comments Smile
Twitter: @TravisinaB7
Tumblr: tumblr
A statement of fact cannot be insolent
Spaceship Dispatcher
trevor travis wrote:

“Soolin’s soap supplies? I’ve never known anyone take such long showers as her.”

Lol Grin

“Well, I just hope she never finds out about you and Avon’s camera, otherwise we’ll find just how quick she is on the draw.”

LOL Grin
Spaceship Dispatcher
Travisina wrote:

@TT - You're picking up bad habits from Spaceship Dispatcher...

Bad habits? Moi?! Grin
Hooray, Lurena has been in internet range! (And also feeling a might better).
So here is our combined story for March, based on an idea from Lurena..................


Some are born mad, some achieve madness, and some have madness thrust upon them......

Servalan sat quietly before the ornate fireplace and its crackling fire, gazing into the dancing flames.
She somehow felt safe, now that order had been restored to her sanctuary of Residence One. The rebel attack had been repelled and now the bodies were being removed; their identities checked.
And then the purge would begin.
The families of those who had dared to join in this futile assault on her, Madame President, would suffer the fate that all such rebels and their families faced. Slavery and then certain death.
It wasn’t pleasant, but it was necessary to maintain order.
But how had this plan come so close to success?
Her thoughts returned, unexpectedly, to Space Commander Travis.
If he were still here, she mused, it would never have come to this.
Travis. A man driven by his duty; by his loyalty to the Federation; by his loyalty…to her?
Or was he also driven by something else? His need to find and destroy Blake? That had become an all-consuming passion in the end.
And it had finally led him to Star One.
He had never told her its location.
Maybe that was his final act of defiance.
After all, she had tried to engineer the outcome of his Trial.
She thought back to that.
What had she warned Thania, Travis’ defence council, to be careful about?
“…And Thania, try not to let Travis guess your motives. He's probably mad, but he certainly isn't a fool…’
Perhaps she, Servalan, had finally overstepped the mark.
And then there was him.
Kerr Avon.
She had tried her well-practiced ways on him whilst marooned on Sarran.
She had offered him so much and she thought he had been fooled by her charms, but no; he had refused her and showed his utter contempt. But that had only made her more determined to find a way through the barrier he had erected about him.
It would take time, but already a chink had appeared in the stoical persona he liked to present to everyone.
The flames danced again.
She pulled the cloak about her, and took another sip of soothing Brandy from the glass held in her elegant hand.
Perhaps there was a way.
The woman in the cellar, Anna Grant, may have provided a clue; a glimpse into the so called unemotional being that he seemed to want everyone to believe.
As she had died, cradled in his arms, Anna had said that she wasn’t Central Security’s best agent; that she was ‘…only ever Anna Grant, with you.’
Servalan fought to remember his words.
‘..Of all the things I have known myself to be, I never recognised the fool…’
She considered both men.
One who most probably had descended into madness because of his intense desire to exact revenge on the man who had repeatedly escaped him...
And the other who’s belief in himself had suddenly been shattered by the realisation that he had been living a lie all this time.
Maybe she could exploit that.
Yes, she thought, that self-doubt could be key. It would hurt him, no doubt, and she had seen the pain when the truth about Anna, maybe the only woman he had ever loved, had been revealed.
It was a start.
She didn’t really want to hurt him, he would have, after all, have made an excellent ally…or even more.
But he had missed his chance.
Now she would punish him.
There was a fine line, she recalled, between that of being a genius and that of being insane.
Yes, that would be the way, to push him nearer that abyss of insanity. So that he would never know who to trust or who would be willing to betray him.
She took another sip from the glass. The Brandy warmed her and she delighted in its sensation.
Travis may have been mad, but he was no fool.
Avon, however, had considered himself infallible. But that utter belief had been ripped from him.
Now was the time to lay plans; he may not be mad now, but before she had finished with him, he would be staring into that abyss.
And she relished that thought…..
Edited by littlesue on 31 March 2015 06:25:19
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/
Little Sue and Lurena. I have often speculated about what happened to Servalan after Rumours. This is a plausible and chilling answer. Brrr! Poor Avon.
Just because I can't sing doesn't mean I won't.
Very good, Travisina and LittleSue/Lurena. This thread is becoming one of my favorites!
Zil: Oneness must resist the Host.
@ Peladon: As I said before I am more inclined to psychological than to action stories, and yours is again brilliant and conclusive. In particular I like the fact that you do not give any names and yet manage to tell us whom you are talking about. Giving too much explicit information was always one of my biggest problems in writing.

@ TT: Ah, a new SR (shower room) story! In addition to crossover, PGP and AU fanfic, we now seem to have another category. Funny and hilarious, but I have to second Travisina about bad habits. Pfft

@ Travisina: The Eye is very promising, and the fact that this time all crewmembers except Cally are affected by a hypnotic (?) influence is ... well, unusual. Wink And being a Vila fan, I just love reading about a clever Vila who teaches his fellow rebels survival techniques!

@ Lurena & Little Sue: A little gem, closing a gap, tying up some loose ends. Plus a lovely addition to the Meegat story!
Just bumping this thread for the last couple of days this month's ficlet challenges.
Any more contributions...?
Twitter: @TravisinaB7
Tumblr: tumblr
A statement of fact cannot be insolent
@Lurena/littlesue - another fine story - it made me think about how much more there is to RoD, so many gaps to be explored. It could have easily have been a film instead of a 50min episode.

@Travisina. Oh, the bittersweet irony! The trauma of Orbit is only eclipsed by Blake. Perhaps Horizon is not an appreciation society but a PTSD support group?
And, deplorably late due to RL crap, here's my 'Complete the Scene'. I'm quite proud of myself for resisting a shower scene...

Playing with Fire

They crouched uncomfortably under the bench. Dayna opened her mouth to speak but Tarrant silenced her with a long finger held to his lips. Her eyes widened as she heard the noise. Ears straining, holding their breath, they listened to the sound of footsteps drawing near.

It had seemed like a good idea; just a bit of fun, a way to slice through the oppressive tension that hung over Xenon base. They had been giggling as they ran through the corridors looking for the perfect place. Tarrant had grabbed Dayna’s hand to pull her into the lab, the abrupt action bringing them close, close enough to feel panting breaths on flushed cheeks, to see eyes shine in the dim light. Usually Avon was the only one who used the lab now Dorian was gone but it was currently empty as Avon, yet again, was brooding in his room. Sounds of movement in the corridor had them seeking further concealment and, as they huddled close, the excitement had died.

Tarrant was suddenly reminded of his brother, of being in Deeta’s mind as he sheltered in the door way, listening to Vinni’s taunts. He thought of the duel, of hearing those final words, of feeling Deeta die. He shuddered.

The slow measured tread continued along the corridor and Dayna half-expected to hear an eerie android voice demand the location of Orac. As the steps continued, she wondered when running and hiding had taken the place of standing up and fighting, when the flames of her youth had been smothered by the relentless struggle for survival and whether it would ever end.

They were not the only ones listening to the footsteps.

The instigator of this latest folly hugged his knees and tried to hold back the tears. Beads of sweat formed on Vila’s brow as he tried to make himself smaller. His body shook although he knew he was safe in the storage closet, was not on the shuttle listening to Avon’s heavy boots on the metal rungs of the ladder, could not hear the silky voice of betrayal. He slumped in resignation, knowing part of him would never leave that shuttle.

Soolin stalked along the corridor; senses on high alert, eyes darting about, her instincts kicking in. She was not aware of when silliness had become serious, when play had become predation; she only knew the hunt was on, that a lifetime of habit and training had taken over. Stealthily she slid her gun from the holster. A door opened and, with reflexes as sharp as ever, Soolin aimed at the emerging figure.

Avon eyed the gun and one eyebrow quirked as he lifted his gaze to Soolin’s face. They regarded each other in silence until Soolin lowered her weapon, suddenly embarrassed under his cold, hard scrutiny. His voice matched his stare;

“Playtime’s over. We’ve got to set the explosives.”

He swivelled and Soolin watched Avon depart, wondering when he had started looking so old, when he had last played, if he ever had. The sound of his voice had brought the rest of the crew out from concealment and Dayna slapped Vila’s shoulder smartly.

“I told you this was a stupid idea.”

Vila bristled in response.

“Hey! I just provided the booze. The last of it, remember? My private stash. And I wasn’t the only one reminiscing about childhood days, about the games we used to play. And it wasn’t me who suggested...”

His voice trailed off and they turned, as one, to Tarrant, who blushed under the weight of their accusations. His grin lacked its usual confidence as he admitted;

“OK , maybe Hide and Seek wasn’t the best choice...”
Edited by purplecleric on 29 March 2015 07:03:55
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