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 B7 Advent Calendar 2022
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| Joe Dredd |
Posted on 16-12-2022 00:14
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 Moderator  Posts: 2391 Joined: 15.01.22 |
The Very Hungry Kairopanner Click the images to see larger versions. Clicking the photos once they open should also enlarge them again. |
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| Joe Dredd |
Posted on 16-12-2022 00:14
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Moderator Posts: 2391 Joined: 15.01.22 |
We're Going on a Blake Hunt |
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| Joe Dredd |
Posted on 16-12-2022 00:16
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Moderator Posts: 2391 Joined: 15.01.22 |
Charlie & the Mutoid Factory |
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| Joe Dredd |
Posted on 16-12-2022 00:16
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Moderator Posts: 2391 Joined: 15.01.22 |
Plaxton Hears A 'Who?' |
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| Joe Dredd |
Posted on 16-12-2022 00:16
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Moderator Posts: 2391 Joined: 15.01.22 |
Saymon's Web |
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| Joe Dredd |
Posted on 16-12-2022 00:17
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Moderator Posts: 2391 Joined: 15.01.22 |
The Travis Who Came to Tea |
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| Joe Dredd |
Posted on 16-12-2022 00:17
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Moderator Posts: 2391 Joined: 15.01.22 |
Watership Down Safe |
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| AnneArthur |
Posted on 17-12-2022 00:30
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 Alpha Grade  Posts: 7918 Joined: 16.01.22 |
Following on from Sue's story from a few days ago, here's a story set early in series 3. The others left the flight deck, Dayna smiling and calling 'Good night' as she went, leaving Tarrant alone with his thoughts. As he moved round the various stations, checking the readings - all well within normal parameters - his mind returned again to his disappointment with the Liberator's crew. This lot wouldn't last five minutes in Space Command! He had only been here for six days, and already he had realised that there was no discipline whatsoever. Take Vila, for example. He was a joke - Cally and Avon made that clear enough - tolerated only for his skills as a thief. But the man seemed to have no pride, accepting insults almost without comment. And worse, he was lazy and insubordinate. You gave him an order, he whinged and whined and came up with half-a-dozen unconvincing excuses, and when you insisted, everyone looked at you as though his behaviour was somehow your fault. Yesterday it had been his turn to make dinner, but Tarrant had found Cally cooking instead. Vila had a headache, she said with a smile, and when Tarrant remonstrated with her, she merely laughed and said that it wasn't worth arguing over. Angry, he had said something he had meant to hide: that he was quite sure that someone had been in his cabin that afternoon. Nothing was missing - not even his Federation gun - but several things seemed to have been moved. He had stopped himself before mentioning the collection of small valuables he had found in Vila's cabin when he had searched the empty ship after his arrival, but Cally knew all about it. 'Very probably,' she said. 'He steals from us all the time - but he always gives things back if you ask. It's the challenge he likes - that and pretty things, I think. He wouldn't take the gun - he doesn't like them. Don't lock your door, then he won't bother you. That's what I find, anyway.' And Cally? What did he make of her? She was friendly, certainly, and did more than her fair share of work - picking up the slack for both men - but there was something odd about her, remote and alien. Her cabin had been full of drawings, landscapes and portraits, often self-portraits. Tarrant frowned. What sort of person would draw herself playing chess with herself? Avon was even colder, without the excuse of being alien, cold and selfish and arbitrary. He defended Vila against Tarrant, but then treated him like a half-wit himself. He questioned ORAC incessantly about Blake, but three days ago he had abandoned a promising lead to attack a cargo ship - because they 'needed supplies'. Tarrant was beginning to wonder if Avon really wanted to find Blake at all. And he was quite sure that he was only on night shift now - for the third time since his arrival - because Dayna had asked for a second helping of his curry at dinner. Tarrant smiled. Now Dayna was a nice kid - decent and straightforward, not like the rest of them. Not that he minded the night shift, he thought, settling back into the pilot's position. It was good to be alone with the Liberator. What a ship! So responsive, almost reading your mind - like an extension of your body, rather than a machine you controlled. He could put up with a lot for a ship like this. And Blake - when they found him - would see Tarrant's worth, would know that here was someone he could trust. As for Avon - he remembered what he had found in Avon's quarters, laid lovingly among the neatly folded clothes, and laughed. How much of a threat could a grown man who still owned a teddy bear be? |
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| Hugbot |
Posted on 18-12-2022 06:13
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 Alpha Grade Posts: 3488 Joined: 16.01.22 |
In last year’s Advent calendar, I posted a story that had nothing to with B7 or Christmas but was at least an SF story set in winter. This year’s story is not only set in late summer but has also nothing to do with science fiction. On the contrary, it is based on a real-life adventure of my maternal grandfather. So, why do I put this in the B7 Christmas calendar? I only have one excuse: it is my Christmas gift for you. Enjoy! By the way, while I had to fill in all the details, the reaction of my grandmother has been quoted to me verbatim! And as the story is quite long, I divided it into three parts. There Is no Word for Horizon – part 1 of 3 The bright singing of the scythes cut through the summer’s day. The air pressed heavily down on the field enclosed by the dark wall of the forest. Working tirelessly, the farmhands pounded the stalks as if they were fighting a battle against an army of wheat warriors. The women tied the fallen grain into sheaves. Insects danced like a shimmering cloud in the sun, attracted by the smell of sweat. The landowner paused and searched the sky with tired eyes. The sun looked favourably upon them – all too favourably! If only there was a cloud somewhere! But no, not even a tiny cloudlet stood out against the blue sea above the field. Birds were flying in this ocean like little boats, but the cloud ships with their bulging white sails were nowhere to be seen. But over there in the direction of the town another dark dot hovered above the forest and wandered quietly and steadily across the sky without even the slightest hint of wings moving. The landowner squinted his eyes to get a better look at the dot. The sound of the scythes beside him died away. The farmhands had also become aware of the apparition and were staring up at the sky and the strange bird approaching them. The dot swelled and grew into a huge ball under which a basket rocked. Finally, the silhouettes of two men could be made out. Their hasty movements showed that something was wrong aboard. Was that the reason why the balloon was steadily sinking? Now it skipped over the edge of the forest, only a few yards above the treetops, and approached the workers in the field. A rope fluttered behind the basket like a mouse tail, growing longer and longer. Full of awe at the vehicle that had come so close and towered so high in front of them, the landowner and the farmhands stepped aside. The balloon whizzed past them no more than a dozen feet above their heads. It sailed over the stubble, passed the women, touched the ground and ploughed across the field for many more yards. Dust swirled up, blowing like a flag behind the contraption. The tow rope slithered through the stubble like a giant snake. The landowner and the farmhands threw the scythes carelessly down and ran after the balloon. The basket had come to a rest, but it was bouncing and heaving on the spot as if it wanted to break away again at any moment. High above it, the dull green envelope bulged and pressed against the net in which it was tied. Even the short sprint showed the farmer that he was no longer a young man. The farmhands overtook him with no effort at all. None of them had ever had any dealings with balloons, but they were all convinced that they knew what to do. Without consulting each other, they grabbed the mouse-tail snake and tried to hold on to the aircraft. One of the two occupants waved at them. “The tether,” he shouted. “The tether! Not the tow rope!” Gesticulating vehemently, he pointed to another, much shorter rope dangling from the basket. The men let go of one rope and grabbed the other. They couldn’t tell the difference, but what did they know about balloons? The gas-filled ball still pulled and tugged at the basket, but it now lay much more still on the field, held by the sturdy workers. The more silent of the two occupants dared to climb onto the edge of the basket and inspect the lines above him. Finally, the landowner reached the vehicle. The man who had instructed the farmhands looked up. He wore a black lounge suit, which seemed far too formal and warm for an outing on such a relentless summer’s day, but as the farmer told himself, it was probably much cooler in the heights the two strangers were travelling. The second occupant of the balloon, now puttering about on the basket rim trying to unwind some tangled lines, was dressed in far simpler and more practical clothes, but just as little summery. He wore knickerbockers and a flannel shirt. It was obvious at a glance which of the two was in charge. The balloonist in the lounge suit also knew immediately that now he was not facing another farmhand but the farmer himself. “My apologies,” he called out. “We had a slight technical problem and your field lent itself to a stopover to repair the damage. I hope we are not causing you too much inconvenience?” The beaming faces of the farmhands proved quite the opposite. Their muscles tensed and sweat showed on their faces as they tried to secure the aircraft, but their eyes were glowing with excitement. This was a story they could even tell their grandchildren! A balloon landing in the middle of their field! And they themselves lent a hand to help the aeronauts! In a way, that made them aviation pioneers themselves. Nevertheless, the gentleman in the lounge suit remained cautious. The landowner might have a different view on stopovers in his field that kept him and his people from working. But the farmer’s lips also showed a smile. “No problem,” he answered. “And thank you for taking the trouble to fly as far as to the stubble field instead of going down in the middle of the corn.” He didn’t know whether that had actually been trouble or merely the easiest solution, but he wanted to get on the right side of the stranger. Airmen and people who wore suits like this lived in a world completely different from his own, and he didn’t want to antagonise them. Besides, he couldn’t take his eyes off the dull green envelope that towered high above him, bulging in its net. It conjured up the impression of a predator trapped in a sack, trying to escape. The man in the flannel shirt had cleared the last line and cast a few searching glances at the construction above him. “Everything is fine,” he reported. “The net is also intact. Didn’t receive any damage from that bird.” He climbed down from the edge of the gondola and looked expectantly at his companion. “We can go on as far as I’m concerned,” he added. But instead of answering and giving his consent, the gentleman looked once more over the field that spread out before him and at the people into whose unexciting lives they had burst so suddenly. Meanwhile, the women had also approached and eyed the strange vehicle not with the childlike enthusiasm of their husbands but full of suspicion. The landowner stood there, his eyes betraying amazement and fascination, with one hand unconsciously, almost playfully, placed on the wickerwork of the basket. “Do you want to fly with us?” the gentleman in the lounge suit suddenly invited him. |
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| Hugbot |
Posted on 18-12-2022 06:14
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Alpha Grade Posts: 3488 Joined: 16.01.22 |
There Is no Word for Horizon – part 2 of 3 For a moment, the farmer had a feeling as if the world stood still. He saw the curve of the balloon above him, the tangle of lines holding the basket, the gentle sway of the gondola, the jealous yet cheering looks of the farmhands and the sceptical glances of the women. He saw the wall of the forest that enclosed the half-harvested field, this small world that was his and beyond which he had rarely ever ventured in his life. “How far?” he heard himself say. The gentleman in the suit and his companion exchanged a silent glance. “A little hop?” the balloonist suggested. “To a spot somewhere beyond the village? Do you have a way to get back from there?” He had two healthy legs, and even if he had to walk all night, he would not let that stop him. Such an opportunity only came along once in a lifetime. “Gladly,” he replied. He eyed the edge of the basket and was obviously stumped. The balloonist reached out and helped him climb aboard. “Thank you, chaps,” the gentleman in the suit called to the farmhands. “You can let go!” Then he turned to the woman, in whom he recognised the spouse of his passenger, and announced with a disarming smile, “Don’t worry, Madame, we’ll bring him back to earth safe and sound!” He made a sign to his companion, whereupon the man in the knickerbockers began to untie sandbags and let their contents trickle to the ground. The balloon, no longer held by the farmhands, slowly drifted upwards, and the more ballast rained down from it, the faster it rose towards the sky. The farmer’s wife stood there, her left hand on her hip, the rake still in the other, and looked after her husband as he floated away. It was not joy at his adventure that showed on her face, but anger, which she immediately vented, “We are in the middle of the harvest, and the man just flies up and away!” Her voice barely reached the landowner’s ear. Mesmerised, he watched the stubble field receding and shrinking below him, the high wall of the forest shrinking as well, the forest turning into a dark blotch, and the patchwork of the surrounding acres and pastures appearing behind it, dotted with the manors, hamlets and villages, in whose windows the sun glistened like on dewdrops. A soft clink at his side distracted him. When he turned around, he saw that the gentleman in the suit had taken two lead crystal wine glasses and an already opened bottle from a wicker basket. He pulled out the cork, filled both glasses with velvety red wine and handed one of them to his passenger. Carefully he stowed the bottle away and then he raised his glass towards the landowner. A bright chink sounded, finer and more pleasant than the chink of scythes. This really was another world. “To aviation!” the gentleman in the suit shouted exuberantly. “To aviation,” the farmer replied politely and took a sip. The third occupant of the basket remained silent. Did the passenger’s presence not suit him, or was he simply too preoccupied with the technical aspects of the flight? In any case, he was constantly checking some lines, although the farmer could not tell if there was really anything to check, and kept a lookout. But of course it was a waste to spend time in a balloon watching a fellow human at work. That experience he could have on his fields every day. The glass of unfamiliar wine in hand, the landowner leaned over the edge of the basket and looked outside. The small town that lay beyond the forest had now become visible; and that white, glittering speck over there – was that the county town? He had only been there once or twice, and it had seemed huge to him, but now it lay before his eyes as yet another tiny heap of civilisation among all the other heaps of civilisation trying to hold their own among the gold and brown of the acres and the green of the pastures and forests. As they sailed over the countryside, a farmstead staggered by below them. Was that old Krautmeier’s estate? It looked so different from up here. Then a golden fleece of wheat spread out below them, and he saw farmhands cutting into it with scythes and the women tying the grain into sheaves, just like in his own field. And he stood up here watching them, a glass of wine in his hand, not feeling the least bit guilty. When he loosened his gaze and looked up, he saw a new wonder. All around him was the sea of the sky, a blue ocean, and he was floating in the middle of it. In the distance, birds sailed over the land, and now he no longer had to look up at them, but was equal to them. One of them approached the balloon curiously. It hovered at eye level with the landowner, squinted suspiciously at the strange machine and turned away with a fierce flapping of wings. The gentleman in the suit still gazed directly downwards to the surface. “The people down there,” he mused. “Like ants, aren’t they?” “Yes, quite like ants,” the landowner murmured dutifully, although his mind was elsewhere. His eye sought the horizon, which had always been a fixed boundary for him. Most of the time, he had not even the opportunity to actually see the line where sky and earth met. In the field, surrounded by woods, the rows of trees took its place. It was a frighteningly close horizon that limited his little world. How rarely had he had the opportunity to leave this narrow circle? And how far had he come? As far as the county town with its own very close horizon. Up here, however, this invisible border was far away, and the higher they climbed, the more it receded into the distance. Again, a few birds dared to approach the eerie vehicle that had so silently and quietly invaded their realm. They circled it, eyed it cautiously and dared to make swift advances towards the basket, which at least contained something familiar – the bipeds, those pathetic creatures, chained to the clod, which they usually watched from above. What does the horizon mean to them?, the landowner pondered. Does it exist for them at all? Certainly, they saw that line; however, for them it was not a fixed boundary but fluid. The farmer took a deep breath and enjoyed the view. Now he saw with bird’s eyes, and now for him the horizon was also just an illusion. He knew that after landing he would return to the narrow circle of his existence, but here and now he felt the boundless freedom, and he resolved to savour this feeling and preserve the memory of it. It would help him to view the boundaries of his existence as fluid even when they closed firmly around him again. |
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| Hugbot |
Posted on 18-12-2022 06:15
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Alpha Grade Posts: 3488 Joined: 16.01.22 |
There Is no Word for Horizon – part 3 of 3 They dropped him off on the other side of the village. The landowner bid a fond farewell to the two airmen. He watched the balloon rise again, waved to the two occupants and remained standing for a long time to watch the vehicle rise towards the sky, becoming smaller and smaller and finally melting into the blue. Even then, he remained on the field where they had landed, gazing into the vastness that stretched above him, oblivious to the horizon that tightened not that far from him like a noose around the land. He had a long walk ahead of him, but his step was lively. After half an hour, he met old Krautmeier, who gave him a lift to the village in his horse-drawn cart, and from there he continued on foot. His wife was anything but pleased when he returned late at night. Abandoning the harvest! How could he! The farmhands, on the other hand, were happy for him. There was a spirit of adventure in their eyes. The harvest went on and the usual routine of field work in the course of the year continued. But something had changed. The landowner had always liked to forge little verses, funny quatrains to amuse the guests at wedding parties and harvest festivals. Everyone said he had a knack for a good rhyme and a well-placed punch line. But now his tone changed. Of course he continued to write his amusing little joke poems; he was and remained a welcome guest, and the farmers and villagers bent over with laughter when he gave his recitals. But that was not all. Now, when he sat in his chamber in the evening, he poured his memories of the flight into poems that described his world. Of nature he spoke, of the mountains and forests and fields around him, of the land and the people, of the narrowness of life and the longing for the vastness, and his words were not aimed at making the listeners laugh but at making them see with bird’s eyes. Some shook their heads at him. A poet, here in our midst? They said that he had become whimsical. Yes, that’s what happens when you leave your work and fly up and away in a balloon! It did not bother him. He did not write for them, but for himself and for those who would listen to him. The heaviness of the earth had him in its clutches again, and he knew that he would never again step out of the limited circle of his peasant life, but his verses helped him escape the confines. In the language of birds, which had now become his own, there was no word for horizon. |
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| ellen york |
Posted on 19-12-2022 01:49
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 Gamma Grade  Posts: 246 Joined: 16.01.22 |
There has been some debate about which is larger, the Enterprise or the Liberator. Long range sensors have provided proof that the Liberator is larger.  |
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| Obsidian |
Posted on 20-12-2022 09:46
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 Moderator Posts: 7889 Joined: 15.01.22 |
Apologies for going out late. Just recently I lost a week in my finely-honed timetable owing to dealing with an ill and dying cat, including driving up and down the highway twice between Canberra and Sydney (3.5 hrs each way), first to get her treatment, secondly to bring her home. We would have done anything for her she was that precious to us. MsVirn did say at the start that we could post photos of our cat, so that's what I'm going to do, plus a bit extra. You'll be pleased to know that our precious girl's name was Zelda, so not entirely off-topic. We bought her Christmas socks to protect where she'd had surgery. Shame she didn't get to share in the tinsel and baubles.  Lying down to eat c'est le dernier cri!  And, a former Christmas present tells it as it is:  My interest in the little transforming guy and his friends (and enemies) runs only to the original 1980s' cartoons. Don't philosophise at me you electronic moron.
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| Og |
Posted on 21-12-2022 06:43
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 Delta Grade  Posts: 10 Joined: 14.12.22 |
Me like Trevor Travis. Him the greatest. Og help Trevor Travis with calendar.
#ogofficial
#theactualog |
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| Og |
Posted on 21-12-2022 06:45
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Delta Grade Posts: 10 Joined: 14.12.22 |
OG'S VERY HARD WORD PUZZLE Word puzle work like this. Me give clue and some letters. You fill in rest. Egg sample: Clue: Longest word in English language with only one vowel. Hint: _ _ _ E _ _ _ _ _ You fill in answer: S T R E N G T H S Got it? If you got it, then go to doctor. #ogofficial
#theactualog |
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| Og |
Posted on 21-12-2022 06:46
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Delta Grade Posts: 10 Joined: 14.12.22 |
Pollution S M _ _ Fallen trees L _ _ S Amphibian F R _ _ TT tell me look okay but don't _ _ L E Brain does this B _ _ G L E S [Hint: Not friend of Algy and Ginger] Running not so fast J _ _ G I N G Bah! Humbug! S C R O _ _ E Study of Animals Z O O L _ _ Y Fusion of gametes from unrelated parents E X _ _ A M Y Proenzyme Z Y M _ _ E N (Me friends with Una McCormack. She smart.) Me get wet S _ _ G Y _ _ G Y Big piggy H _ _ Me greet her S N _ _ Italian for bed sheets T _ _ A It can't define dead L _ _ I C There were three of them S T O _ _ E S Me keep diary B L _ _ Switch on or off T _ _ G L E Me dance like Madonna V _ _ U E Ninja calls front seat S H _ _ U N The proto Avon B _ _ A R T How me find answers G O _ _ L E Me breathe this at night time. Me think. N I T R _ _ E N What me owe to TT A P O L _ _ I E S Edited by Og on 21-12-2022 07:01 #ogofficial
#theactualog |
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| Og |
Posted on 21-12-2022 06:54
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Delta Grade Posts: 10 Joined: 14.12.22 |
This is hard. Me stuck on number three.
#ogofficial
#theactualog |
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| trevor travis |
Posted on 21-12-2022 17:26
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 Alpha Grade Posts: 8367 Joined: 16.01.22 |
Planning conference in Og’s shed at the bottom of TT’s garden: TT: I’ve got such big plans for this year’s Horizon advent calendar story. It’s going to be the grandest, most epic tale full of obligatory references to Red Dwarf and Blackadder, and… Og: TT, me think we’ve got a problem. TT: What is it, Og? Og: We’re on a bit low on cash for this year’s production. TT: I guess that’s no surprise in a year when we’ve had two Presidents, three Supreme Commanders, rampant inflation and the year has ended with both the Mutoids and the Psychostrategists on strike and the Freedom Party 20 points ahead in the polls. So how much money do we have? Og: Five credits. TT: Five credits? That wouldn’t even buy us one of the buttons on Avon’s shirt or a cigarillo case. Og: What are your plans for this year, TT? TT: It’s an alternative ending to Weapon that sees IMIPAK only able to tickle you, while Blake, Avon, Gan, Travis and Servalan all die from its effects, and then we go off to the lakeside of Gardinos alongside Jenna, Cally, Dayna and Soolin, with Vila as our butler, and we all live happily ever after. Og: Hmmm, me think we can’t afford to build an IMIPAK. TT: Right, I’ll scrub that from the story. Og: Me think we can’t afford to hire, Blake, Avon, Gan, Travis, Servalan and Vila. TT: Right, I’m crossing them out too. Og: Is Carnell is your story? As you mentioned, he’s on strike. TT: Removing Mr. Smooth right now. Og: Me think we can’t afford the Space Taxi fare to Gardinos and we can’t fly there ourselves, since rocket fuel has doubled in price within the last six months. TT: That’s a big blow. There’s a terrific scene when Soolin - who is looking lovely - is bathing in the lake, with the golden rays of sunshine reflecting off her… Littlesue: Steady! Og: Me think we can’t afford Soolin either. Or Cally, Dayna and Jenna for that matter. What else was in the story? TT: Well, there’s so many breaks in the fourth wall that it collapses. Og: Me think we can’t afford to buy a fourth wall from Space Ikea this year. What’s left? TT: Nothing! Smeg! Og: Don’t worry TT, we’ll just have to use this shed as the location and also just use what we’ve got in here to make the story. TT: But all that’s in here is your six remaining blow-up Dayna dolls, the ones you haven’t punctured with your horns or thrown off a hillside; an A4 pad of which only the last six pages haven’t been used: and some sticky-back plastic. How can we make a story from that? Og: Me stumped too. TT: Hold on Og! What’s this all over the floor? Og: Me bring back half the beach when we went on holiday to Paignton earlier this year. Me had it all stuck in me fur. TT: That’s it, Og! I’ve got it. Go up the shops and use the five credits to buy some coloured crayons. I’m about to put your creative drawing skills to use. Og: What are you planning? TT: I’ll explain later. *** [Two hours later] TT: Og, those are superb likenesses. I’ve going to stick them onto the faces. Here’s the story – what do you think? Og: Brilliant TT! Me think this could work! TT: I think so too! We only light your shed by candlelight these days, since the electricity got too expensive, and if I place these in the corners, no-one can see them properly. Og: Me don’t think we should give any more spoilers to the story to those reading this on Horizon. TT: Let’s crack on then! TT and Og productions proudly present (on a budget of five credits): SAND: The alternative ending had Og been part of the crew Vila was dead. Tarrant was dead. Avon was dead. Blake was dead. Ace Rimmer was dead. Lord Flashheart was dead. Og was alive. He was the dominant male. “Merry Christmas everybody”, said Og. THE END Vote Og.
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| Tyce |
Posted on 21-12-2022 23:27
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 Alpha Grade Posts: 2857 Joined: 16.01.22 |
Hi Everyone, On the 22nd day of December - it's Tyce's birthday! This is good all round because you get to indulge in my birthday present. :-) One of my wonderful friends created this artwork. He created it for my birthday AND for my Horizon friends. I told him I'd signed up on the B7 Avent calendar but I didnt know what I was going to do for it this year, so he jumped in. :-) As you can tell from the artwork, my friend is into Anime and he assures me that the Japanese letters in the artwork 'may or may not' spell out Blake's 7. LOL (He googled the translation - so fingers crossed.) I confess I'm impressed - I hope you like it also. Merry Christmas. Tyce  |
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| Barbados |
Posted on 23-12-2022 10:39
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 Ungraded  Posts: 4 Joined: 02.10.22 |
Cally watched as Jenna and Blake glided by, swept along by the music and the other dancers. Jenna was staring stony faced into the distance, a look of bleak despair on her face. Blake was cheerful and smiling, enjoying the few brief, carefree moments here in the plaza, the people of Roval celebrating the winter festival, before the cold season arrived, which could last for six months sometimes. Jenna felt sick and giddy as if she'd drank that glass of the local brew Vila had been offering her earlier. She stared up at the stars sparkling above as tears stung her eyes. Tonight was the night she finally knew he could never love her. It had hit her like a punch to the stomach, leaving her breathless, as they danced in this glorious square, music and laughter filling the air. She knew that she'd never looked more beautiful and in every glance, every gesture she'd revealed to him what her lips couldn't speak. As he held her close he spoke of freedom and allies, of weapons and treachery, touching his lips to her ear in excitement he whispered "Liberty Jenna, for all!!" Cally, her eyes following them as they moved across the square, could sense the misery and could guess the reason. Just then Avon returned. "Where's Vila?" she said" "He says he'll be at least an hour but I doubt it, there's not a guard in sight, I think the whole town is here" "Where's Blake?" She nodded and he followed her gaze as the music slowed and Jenna and Blake appeared and disappeared as the lights and the other dancers hid them from view then picked them out once more. He stood watching them for a moment. Cally said with an impish smile "Would you like to dance?" Well now, why not?" he said catching her by surprise, and taking her hand he led her into the crowd. Cally slid her arms around his neck and looked into his eyes but he gazed back impassively, there was no way of telling what he was thinking, even for an Auronar!! This is so magical, she thought, I'll never experience this again. Of this she was sure, her instincts were telling her so and she knew enough to trust them. She laid her head on his shoulder and he tightened his arms about her waist. Like Jenna she stared up at the stars swirling above them, feeling giddy with the joy of this moment, of being alive, here and now!, the soft music and gentle breezes mingling with the lights and the movement of their bodies so close together causing her heart to sing. Just then Avon's bracelet chimed. It was Vila. "Where IS everybody?" he whined. "Am I the only one working tonight?" "Have you finished?" Avon asked. "Yes I have" came the reply "and I suggest we leave as soon as possible. I've just seen that ship landing and I've made a right old mess of their latest security set up. "Go to the warehouse gate, we're on our way" said Avon Thanks to Orac before long they were back on the ship. As they stepped onto the flight deck Vila handed the crystals to Blake and went to pour himself a drink. "Jenna?" he said as she passed him, offering her a glass. She nodded and taking the glass, sat down. The others surrounded Orac, trying to extract more information about why these particular crystals were so important to the Federation, so important that they were prepared to divert Travis to come here and collect them. After listening to this for a while Jenna stood "I'm going to my cabin" she said "my head aches." I'm going too" said Avon, "Orac, monitor Travis's movements overnight, I need to know if he has to visit anywhere else on the planet before he leaves." Cally laid aside the bracelet she'd been checking and said to Blake, "Can this wait until the morning?" He nodded briefly and turned his attention back to Orac. Avon waited for her at the entrance to the corridor and they walked companionably together towards their cabins. Avon's was closest and as they neared the door she felt his fingers touch hers and she allowed him once again tonight to take her hand. He opened the door and as he gently drew her inside she looked up to see Jenna approaching from the other end of the corridor. Their eyes met for one brief second and then Cally stepped inside and the door softly slid shut. |
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| littlesue |
Posted on 24-12-2022 07:30
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 Alpha Grade Posts: 3889 Joined: 17.01.22 |
Just to wish everyone on this forum who have kept me sane these last few years, a Merry Xmas and a Happy New Year. I don't think I could have coped. Anyway, here is one of my fave piccies. The original was taken at the Cult Event in the Old Cinema Museum back in 2013, by my lovely Daughter Sarah. This is the 2nd one after she had growled "Smile!" at Mr D. And then she did this for me for Xmas that year... 
Cold! You don't know the meaning of the word cold! Cold is when you have ice on the INSIDE of your window!! Sue's Book Shelf https://www.mediafire.com/folder/z1xg...Zine_Shelf Rebel Run Video https://youtu.be/8prqS-XZtLo |
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| Joe Dredd |
Posted on 24-12-2022 09:50
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Moderator Posts: 2391 Joined: 15.01.22 |
There was a Cruel Lady There was a cruel lady who chased after Blake; What a mistake to chase after Blake - the perfidious snake! There was a cruel lady who assigned her gorilla; He was a killer with a pursuit ship flotilla! She sent out the gorilla to chase after Blake; What a mistake to chase after Blake - the perfidious snake! There was a cruel lady who sent her mutoid How she enjoyed sending out her mutoid. She sent the mutoid to help the gorilla, She sent out the gorilla to chase after Blake; What a mistake to chase after Blake - the perfidious snake! There was a cruel lady who used a rude man He was a man with an open-shirt plan. She sent out the man to scorn the mutoid, She sent the mutoid to help the gorilla, She sent out the gorilla to chase after Blake; What a mistake to chase after Blake - the perfidious snake! There was a cruel lady that hired a crab; Oh what a scab, to hire a crab! She hired the crab to replace the mere man, She sent out the man to scorn the mutoid, She sent the mutoid to help the gorilla, She sent out the gorilla to chase after Blake; What a mistake to chase after Blake - the perfidious snake! There was a cruel lady who transmuted the gold; It never gets old transmuting the gold. She transmuted the gold to pay the crab, She hired the crab to replace the mere man, She sent out the man to scorn the mutoid, She sent the mutoid to help the gorilla, She sent out the gorilla to chase after Blake; What a mistake to chase after Blake - the perfidious snake! There was a cruel lady who changed her name; She changed her name to win the endgame! She changed her name to get all the gold, She transmuted the gold to pay the crab, She hired the crab to replace the mere man, She sent out the man to scorn the mutoid, She sent the mutoid to help the gorilla, She sent out the gorilla to chase after Blake; What a mistake to chase after Blake - the perfidious snake! There was a cruel lady who had no remorse; ...she won, of course! |
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| M1795537OCVirn |
Posted on 24-12-2022 10:40
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 Admin  Posts: 14115 Joined: 14.01.22 |
This is what Virn looked like when it snowed.  Hope you all have a very Merry Chrismas and a Happy New Year. Thanks for being there, all of you! "You're not sulking, I hope?"
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| Joe Dredd |
Posted on 24-12-2022 13:24
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Moderator Posts: 2391 Joined: 15.01.22 |
Trooper Charlie, the conversion victim and a mutoid. After Quentin Blake.  |
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| Ulera |
Posted on 24-12-2022 16:21
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 Delta Grade Posts: 11 Joined: 23.01.22 |
Kwik Qwiz! Can you spot the difference between these 3 images? (Irritatingly some B7 fans seem to find this difficult...)    |
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| NerdyTeenGirl |
Posted on 24-12-2022 16:49
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 Beta Grade  Posts: 448 Joined: 19.10.22 |
[img]https://imgur.com/a/dxex5sJ[/img] We’ll see if this works… I drew Avon as a snowman for a festive family activity last weekend. Edited by Paula on 24-12-2022 22:00 Don’t be sorry. Be quiet.
The Blake’s 7 section of my blog, where I post fics, art, essays, etcetera. https://thephantomofcygnus.wordpress..../blakes-7/ |
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| Lurena |
Posted on 24-12-2022 23:14
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 Alpha Grade Posts: 2970 Joined: 16.01.22 |
Thank you for starting this year's Calendar Joe Dredd! And thank you all for your contributions! I love them! I apologise for being away for so long, but sometimes things like work get in the way. I haven't even got time to create something new for this Advent Calendar, but I think you may enjoy playing this game which I created a few years ago and which was posted on the previous (or the pre-previous???) Horizon Forum. B7 main characters have dressed up for Christmas! Can you find out which cosplay belongs to which character by matching the pairs? Just give it a try and enjoy! *********************************************************************************** Update: An hour ago, I spent a bit time to create a Christmas card, but I can't choose which one to send. Maybe you can help me out? Which card do you choose? There was a photo shoot session, but it turned out that everyone objected more or less to a Christmas bow in their hair. It probably took a few photographers. Now I don't know which card I would choose; maybe you can help me out, which one would you take? 1 Blake - quickly teleported himself away from that bow. (Did he secretly like it?)  2 Jenna - got confused about her attitude; she tried to form a heart with her hands (was it a handsome photographer?), but the bow distracted her too much.  3 Vila - had his doubts and didn't like it. Afterwards, an expensive camera had disappeared.  4 Cally was clear, "may you die alone..."  5 Avon – who never shows his true feelings, was quick-on-the-draw, but that weird bow obscured his view and he missed the photographer. Bet Avon is still sulking about that.  6 Gan - was simply not happy about it and thought ,“if only my woman was able to see this…”  7 Tarrant - started to point his weapon menacingly at the photographer, it is not known if the photographer survived.  8 Dayna - suggested hand-to-hand combat. The photographer was taken to hospital.  9 Soolin - thought it was so silly that she refused to cooperate. No one was harmed.  10 Servalan - felt good about it, but can she be trusted? It has not been announced whether the photographer survived.  11 Travis 1 - activated his laseron. Hopefully that was just a sign for the photographer to stop photo-shooting.  12 Travis 2 - saved the energy of his laseron and used a Fed sidearm. It is not known whether he really fired.  13 Unknown Trooper – as every trooper, in that helmet he had a poor eyesight, but he felt honoured by the invitation to joint he photo shoot.  14 Roj Bear - was blown away by it, hence landed upside down. It was not intended to pose that way and now this picture is probably not usable as a Christmas card.  Anyway, with or without a Christmas card, I wish you all a Merry Christmas!!!  Edited by Lurena on 25-12-2022 04:05 *No, I am not. I am not expendable, I'm not stupid, and I'm not going.*
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