B7 Fridays (slightly longer ones) 1 , 3 , 4 , 5, 6 ,  

B7 Friday is a LiveJournal 'community' which posts a weekly theme. Here are some of the longer stories I've done for it.

Child's Play  (This theme was actually a group of sentences children might say while playing 'Blakes 7'. We were to incorporate at least one in our stories. I got greedy and used a lot of them. I've put those sentences in blue. This story wound up getting its own page on my site because it was too large for B7 Friday's posting rules, but I'm putting it here, too, because it goes with this group.)

 
When the others rushed in with the pallet of gold and Dayna squealed, "Avon, Avon, the monsters are everywhere, the volcanoes are erupting, you'd better come and save the world." Vila knew something was wrong. Dayna had been drugged to imitate drug withdrawal, perhaps she was still under the influence.

But then Avon replied, "I'll be there in a minute. I've just got to do a wee first," and Vila remembered that the passengers aboard the 'cruise' had been given something to make them childishly pliable and easy to deceive. He didn't know how Dayna and Avon had been dosed with the stuff, but he suspected Keiller. Well, if that's what it was, it wore off harmlessly, but they were in no condition to continue the mission now. They could always sell the gold later. "Tarrant, we'd best get back to base."

"Not yet," Tarrant replied. "I want to buzz the Space Princess. When we get 'round to the viewports, everybody climb up against the view screen, drop their trousers and moon them!"

Dayna immediately started pulling at her trousers. Vila hesitated, torn between common sense and a small voice that said to let her do it.

Soolin said, "I'm not going. Last time I climbed up there, Tarrant pushed me off."

Dayna said, "I don't want to get pushed off, either." She pulled up her trousers.

Avon punched Tarrant in the shoulder, "Well I say we're not doing it, Tarrant, an' I'm older than you, so there."

Now, Tarrant was sulking. "You're a poo-poo head."

Soolin pulled out her gun and waved it in Tarrant's direction. "Tarrant! You're not supposed to say that word."

Vila ducked as Tarrant started wrestling Soolin for the gun. Soolin shouted, "Geroff, Tarrant, or I'm telling your mum."

Then he hit her in the chest and got the gun, and smirked at her.

Soolin rubbed her bruised bosom, tears starting up from the corners of her eyes. "Tarrant, if you do that again, I'm going to knock your stupid head right off your stupid shoulders. I mean it."

Dayna offered Soolin a clip-gun. "You can borrow mine. I don't like it anyway. Every time I shoot this gun, I drop it."

Vila gulped at all the weapons being waved about. Tarrant had a gun in each hand, and Avon also had his out. They were crouching behind consoles, pointing the guns and shouting, "Pow! Pow! I got you, yes, I did!"

Soolin took Dayna's gun and joined in the mock battle. Dayna looked at Vila. "You're not using your gun, Vila, lend it to me, so I can help Soolin!"

Vila thought fast. "I'm not playing. Every time I speak, you all shout 'shut up, Vila', an' I never get a turn with the big gun."

"Ooh! A big gun! Where is it, Vila!" Dayna bounced up and down, which distracted Vila momentarily.

"Right here!" Vila rummaged in a repair cabinet and pulled out a length of conduit casing, colourfully striped in spirals. "It's much better than those little guns."

"Oh, pleeeease, Vila, can I have it, can I?"

"Oh, all right." Vila gave her the conduit and within moments had the other three clamoring to 'upgrade' their weapons. Vila traded conduit for clip-guns, locking them all away, and then breathed a sigh of relief.

Vila went over to Slave. "Slave, set us a course for Xenon base. Don't take any orders from the others!"

"Yes, sir." Scorpio began moving, but none of the other's noticed as their gun-battle had deteriorated into bickering.

Vila sat down with a bottle of Dorian's wine, letting the others' voices wash over him.

Dayna was shouting,"That's not fair. I killed you first, " as she kicked Tarrant in the shins and Soolin pulled his hair. Avon pinched Tarrant in the arm.

Tarrant began to cry. "No! It's not fair, I don't want to play any more, I'm going home, and I'm going to tell my mum."

Vila took a large gulp of wine, put his feet up on the console and then turned on the mission vid-recorder. The recording might be worth more than the gold. He grinned.

Harmless Things (theme was 'Original Character')

The little Delta stroked the aigrettes of the airy, white as innocence, cape lightly with her gloved hands. She felt pride at her skill at the same time she felt pity for the birds. So many males killed just for the two long feathers they grew during breeding season. She felt even sorrier for the females, with no eggs to lay.

But the Supreme Empress ordered it, and so it was done. She carried it carefully, glad that she would have the honour of presenting Sleer’s coronation cape in person.

Sleer noted her gloves and how careful she was not to touch the feathers with her bare skin.  “Take off your tunic and put it on!”

The seamstress did, and turned to admire herself in the mirror. For a moment she was transformed from a drab, little brown bird into a magnificent creature. She smiled at the faint scratch of feathers over her thin shoulders, as if the birds were forgiving her, understanding she had no choice.

Sleer snatched the cape away from her, and swirled it over her own indecent (to the Delta’s eyes) silken white gown. “It itches!” she snapped.

“Perhaps you’re allergic.”  The seamstress fell to the richly carpeted floor. “To Restals, I mean.” She said softly, “I said I’d join you, Vila. I didn’t want to come empty-handed.” She heard Sleer cursing and calling uselessly for help, and died smiling.

Sentenced (theme was to use one of the B7 Friday's owners first sentences starting her Blakes 7 fics as your first line- I used all of them instead. They're in blue. Even when they run together quite naturally, each blue sentence was the beginning of a separate story.)

After the battle, Avon pulled his spaceship-spotter's handbook out of his anorak pocket and quickly noted down the details and plate numbers of the pursuit ships they had just encountered.

"Do you know," Blake said, "that it's exactly a year today since we left Cygnus Alpha?"

Avon sighed. "No it's not, Blake. We left Gauda Prime a year ago.

"All right," Blake said, "we have to check the maps again." He pored over his guide to WaltDisney World and put a finger down on TomorrowLand. "Guess where I am!"

In Never-Never Land, Avon thought, but he replied, "In TomorrowLand?" as he had the last ten times Blake asked the question. "Are you still there?"

Blake dropped the map, and sang, "The bravest rebels the galaxy through, are Captain Blakey and his crew."

Avon shook his head. "I’m so worried about you."


Vila Restal lay listening to the snores and mutters (and occasionally worse) of the sleeping convicts around him. When he awoke, the first thing he noticed was the pain.


Vila Restal strode determinedly down the corridor, stopped outside the last door, and gave it a sharp knock. Vila Restal was worried.

Cally awoke, disturbed. "Vila, I'm recovering from being reincarnated. Can't you go show your toys to someone else?" Then, just to show she meant business, Cally kicked him.

Vila stumbled onto the flight deck.

Blake looked up and smiled at him. "Ee, our Vila, you've been supping in t' pub again."

Vila slapped down the crystals he had been clutching in his hand. "Someone put those in my bed!"

Blake looked. “Ooh, look!”

Avon squinted at the crystals. "That's odd." He looked at Blake. "They look like Federation communications crystals. We must have a spy on board!"

“Might I humbly suggest, master, that is, if I’m not disturbing your undoubtedly extremely important activities, all of which would make any of my concerns look laughably petty by comparison—”

"Shut up, Slave!" Avon was sorry he'd saved everyone, but sorriest of all that he'd rescued that computer.

Gan watched as Avon removed two data cubes from the read-write unit, pocketed one, and put the other back in its place on the shelf. Somewhere on this cube was the answer to all his questions… unfortunately, the answer was '42'.

At least Gan was quiet. The knock on his head had removed his anti-violence limit, but prevented him from talking. Avon wondered if he could duplicate the effect on a few of the other useless convicts Blake had insisted they drag along in their escape.

Slave burst in again. "Information. Federation pursuit ships have been detected."

"Oh, no! I'm not going through that again!" Vila slapped on a teleport bracelet. "Put me down, Avon!"

Avon shrugged. "Your mother dresses you funny." Then he operated the teleport.

Vila Restal materialised beside a busy street. He got his bearings and made for the nearest pub. Once inside he bought a drink for the big man who sat in one corner.

Morri the Nose parted a beer with that appendage. “Just what did you put in this, Vila?”

"What do you care, it's booze." He waited until the hypnotic took effect, then whispered his message into Morri's hairy ear. "Ship secured, Avalon."

Avon smiled as he faced certain death. Servalan smiled back at him as she gave the order to fire and then, once the ship was incapacitated, to board her. "If there are any left alive, space commander, kill them."

An eerie blue light engulfed all the Federation ships, and they disappeared. Avon, Blake, and Gan stared.

It was quiet on the flight-deck.

When the Christmas fairy shimmered into being on Scorpio's flight deck, Avon's first thought was that the Federation had developed a teleport.

"I’m sorry you lost the Liberator, dear, and that Zen died."
 
 Avon fell, still laughing.