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November 2017 Ficlet Challenge
purplecleric
Towards the end of November is Stir-up Sunday, the traditional day for mixing the Christmas pudding with all its associated rituals.

The word prompt this month is … STIR

To agitate, cause a commotion, evoke emotion, to cause trouble with rumours or gossip or a slang word for prison. What will stir your muse?

A dreadful saying, with various attributions, goes “The gloomy months of November, when the people of England hang and drown themselves.” A melancholy has descended on our heroes, what do they do to dispel the blues?
 
purplecleric
Late on parade this month - sorry, folks!
 
JustBrad
Avon stood alone on Scorpio's darkened flight deck, arms crossed, head down in reflection. It had all seemed so logical, gather a group of like minded independent planetary lords and offer them the cure to Pylene 50 in return for them banding together against the Federation.

What could possibly go wrong?

Everything.

Xenon base was a ruin. Even if they had a hope of making it habitable again, Servalan knew where it was. They couldn't stay here, but Scorpion wasn't Liberator, it couldn't fly the galaxy forever. Scorpio needed a base.

They couldn't stay and they couldn't leave. It was all rather depressing, really.

Avon fell back on an old axiom: Remove emotion, deal logically with the facts.

Logic suggested they were as good as dead.

Logic suggests we're dead.

Logic has never explained what dead means.


Logically, he was out of options. There was only one thing left to do, confront his demons and get this over with.

"Slave, prepare the ship for departure. Set course for Gauda Prime."
Edited by JustBrad on 01 November 2017 19:16:58
 
Joe Dredd
Another pocket masterpiece, Brad.
 
Joe Dredd
I seem to remember a fanfic with Vila stirring the Christmas pudding for luck. Does anyone remember this?

Half of me says it was a Nicola Mody story, half of me says it was in the "Young Vila" series that ran through several editions of the "Chronicles" fanzine, half of me thinks it might be both, and the remaining half of me thinks I can't add up.
 
Blakesheaven
The S.T.I.R. Initiative

Servalan’s less than serene features faded into existence on the communications screen, the message was brief and familiar. “Send someone in to remove this mutoid IMMEDIATELY!” and the screen went black, “that’s the third one in two days, if someone doesn’t find out what this S.T.I.R. Initiative is soon she’ll be starting on us.” A voice emanated from the comms terminal,”rest assured technician when that moment occurs YOU will be the first to know, now send space commander Torn to my office NOW!”
“Supreme Commander you sent for me” “don’t sit down Torn, I only have two questions. Firstly it’s been sixteen days since we first picked up coded messages about S.T.I.R. it’s been picked up in conversation on eleven Federation worlds, it’s been associated with Blake on no less than ninety two occasions in comms traffic, your only task was to find out what it is and either obtain it or destroy it, you have managed neither! Why is that?”
“The general thinking Supreme commander is that after deciphering various communications S.T.I.R. Looks like a small group within the command structure of the Federation intent on a redistribution of power, they seem to be prepared to collaborate with the rebel Blake to achieve this.”
“GIVE ME NAMES! Torn you have very little time left, NOW GET OUT!
“Supreme Commander the second question?”
“Oh I just wondered how your family were Torn, families are always a worry in these troubled times, goodbye”
Blake walked onto the Liberators flight deck “Avon what exactly is it you and Orac have been up to all this time?”
“Oh just some stirring up”
“Stirring?” Enquired Blake,
“To Stir” explained Orac “ Earth old English vocabulary informal, to deliberately cause trouble by spreading rumours or gossip”.
“MISINFORMATION!” exclaimed Zen.
 
Joe Dredd
Very good! An excellent last line, too.
 
BradPaula
Stir Crazy

Jenna strode to the window in four steps and turned sharply. She paced back to the door and turned sharply again. Then, back to the window. She was striding determinedly with each lap, which infuriated Avon more with every step taken. With another circuit, he finally spoke.

“Must you do that?”

Jenna stared him down with her #2 death stare. It had no affect on him.

“I hate being cooped up like this- and a prisoner,” she spat at her cell mate. “I don't seem to have the nerves of steel you always show,” she ended and started her pacing once again. “I'm also trying to figure out what options we have left.”

“Can you do it with a bit less bravado?” Avon asked, trying to figure out the exact same thing.

Jenna gave up and sat next to her cell mate. He sat with spine erect, arms folded in what looked to be a defensive posture to her. She lay her head on his shoulder to see if she could get a rise out of him, but as always, nothing. It was bad enough she was being held prisoner but to be thrown in the same cell as Avon? Utter torture.

Just then a sound issued from the fortified door. Someone was scrabbling outside. With the sound of movement, both crew mates now appeared poised for possible action. Avon jumped up and stood on the side of the door, his hand at the ready to chop down any intruder. Jenna now stood beside him, also ready to strike out at anyone who entered. One last scrabbling scratch and the door swung open and Avon attacked – Vila.

“Ouch! What in the world did you do that for?” the thief shrieked. “I'm here to rescue you!”

“Not before time,” Jenna announced angrily.

“Hey, these magno locks don't unlock themselves!” Vila replied, hurt by their lack of thanks.

“We've got to find our way to the ship,” Avon spat. He did a short recce down the corridor.

Vila came close to Jenna and asked, “Going stir crazy with Avon as cell mate?”

“What do you think?” she replied tartly.

“Well, we're out of our cells but not yet home free. It's a matter of out of the frying pan and into the fire, isn't it?” Jenna nodded and they cautiously followed Avon along the corridor and eventually back to Liberator. All ideas of crew disunity forgotten as they came together to fight the common enemy- the Altas.
Zil: Oneness must resist the Host.
 
Travisina
Very nice use of the prompt, Paula! Did you spend your birthday writing a B7 fic about your hubby's fave character? That's true love!
Twitter: @TravisinaB7
Tumblr: tumblr
There's no point being grown up if you can't be childish sometimes
 
BradPaula
Travisina wrote:

Very nice use of the prompt, Paula! Did you spend your birthday writing a B7 fic about your hubby's fave character? That's true love!


Er, sure... yeah... No, I just got the idea lying in bed the other day and now I have an idea for the second prompt! But writing Jenna? We both love her, and a certain other character in our family.
Zil: Oneness must resist the Host.
 
BradPaula
The Blake's 7 Black and Blues
(Chicago Blues-style song for guitar and harmonica)

I woke up this morning (sing 'da DA da-dum' - after each line)
With angst and much dread
How can I keep going
When red now means dead?

My hero's been murdered
Last night on TV
And so close to Christmas
Now how can that be?

And Servie's still standing
But not there to see
That I can be sure of
'Cause it's BBC

And what of the others
Are they all dead too?
Not Tarrant and Soolin-
And poor Vila too (Day-na da-dum)

That Arlen's a sly one
She tangled with Blake
But will she be living
And be at his wake?

Oh, I woke up this morning
With pain in my heart
They axed my fav programme
And that ain't too smart

So what will I do now?
The series is done
Just keep me away from
Avon's big ugly gun

(12 minute harmonica solo)
Zil: Oneness must resist the Host.
 
Travisina
Brilliant, Paula! I love it Smile
Twitter: @TravisinaB7
Tumblr: tumblr
There's no point being grown up if you can't be childish sometimes
 
BradPaula
Travisina wrote:

Brilliant, Paula! I love it Smile


Why, thank you. I guess I should be sick with a cold more often. Seems to stimulate the writing juices. (Ugh!)
Zil: Oneness must resist the Host.
 
Anniew
Lovely responses to the prompts Paula and Blakesheaven.

The smell of discharging weapons was blown away on the cold wave of air that entered the silo as its steel door opened and then crashed shut. When the clanging echoes had faded, the pulsing red lights stopped too. The sirens ceased their rhyming warnings. Silence filled the space.

A thin beam of sunlight forced its way through a crack in one of the high, blacked out windows and meandered its way across the floor. As it travelled, an arm, boot, head were each in turn briefly highlighted by its light. Behind it the shadows gathered, sliding over the humped bodies, turning the pooling blood a darker black.

So still, the scene, it might have been a painting. Not a stir of wind, not a flicker of movement.

And then the shadows shifted and a dark mass slowly rose from its incumbent position and coughed loudly. Other shadows began to move and resolved themselves into human shapes, pushing themselves up from the floor into sitting positions.

“That should do it, I think,” a hearty voice cut through the quiet. “She’ll have made her report by now and suffered an unfortunate accident on the way back.”

As if in answer, the silo door crashed open again and twenty troopers dressed in black Federation uniforms burst into the room, their leader taking off her helmet and shaking out a mass of blonde hair as she entered.

“Come on,” she urged. “They’ve lifted the blockade but I estimate we’ve only got about an hour’s grace. Stir yourselves people or this charade has all been for nothing.”
Edited by Anniew on 15 November 2017 22:26:02
Just because I can't sing doesn't mean I won't.
 
rojroj
Joe Dredd wrote:

I seem to remember a fanfic with Vila stirring the Christmas pudding for luck. Does anyone remember this?

Half of me says it was a Nicola Mody story, half of me says it was in the "Young Vila" series that ran through several editions of the "Chronicles" fanzine, half of me thinks it might be both, and the remaining half of me thinks I can't add up.


The story you remember is "Solstice" by Sally Manton:

http://archiveofo...orks/16157
 
https://www.facebook.com/blakes7rojblake/
Travisina
rojroj wrote:

Joe Dredd wrote:

I seem to remember a fanfic with Vila stirring the Christmas pudding for luck. Does anyone remember this?

Half of me says it was a Nicola Mody story, half of me says it was in the "Young Vila" series that ran through several editions of the "Chronicles" fanzine, half of me thinks it might be both, and the remaining half of me thinks I can't add up.


The story you remember is "Solstice" by Sally Manton:

http://archiveofo...orks/16157

Thanks for the link, rojroj - what a wonderful story!
Twitter: @TravisinaB7
Tumblr: tumblr
There's no point being grown up if you can't be childish sometimes
 
Rainesz
Anniew: You read my mind about Jenna being in deep cover as one of the troopers! Excellent story and wonderful description. Grin
 
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