Nico (vilakins) wrote,
Nico
vilakins

Ficlet: Vila vs The Federation

Written for last week's b7friday novelty songs challenge, 400 words set in S1 or S2. Now with added illustration!

Vila vs The Federation

"Coming up on Federation patrolled area now," said Zen.

"Tally ho," said Vila, sliding into his seat. "Beware of the Fed in the sun and all that."

Avon turned to look at him. "What on earth is that?"

"White silk scarf." Vila tossed an end insouciantly over one shoulder." All the space aces wear them, you know."

"I meant in the glass."

"Oh this? Root beer. All the dogfighters drink--"

"That had better not be my Chateau Nouveau Margaux."

"Nah, A&S with a dollop of red food dye because I don't think roots ferment. Tried it once on CF1." Vila leaned back in his seat and sang softly, "Ten, twenty, thirty, forty, fifty or more: the hot-shot young Delta was rollin' out the score..." He looked sideways at Avon. "I've got 38 so far. 38 pursuit ships and 38 little red pursuit-ship-shaped stickers on the side of the Liberator that Zen put there for me."

"Zen--" Avon noticed that the rest were smiling, and lengthened his face, "--ought to know better."

"Zen's with me on this. We're going for Baron von Richthofen's record: 80 confirmed victories."

"Confirmed," said Zen.

"And he's doing the confirming."

"Confirmed."

"Zen, Vila, you--"

"Scramble," said Zen. "Pursuit ships at five o'clock."

Vila ignored this ancient method of location and, tracking the ships on his screen, fired. "One down!" The Liberator was rocked by a hit on its shields. "Immelman roll, Jenna!"

Grinning, Jenna executed a fast manoeuvre, and Vila fired again. "Gotcha! Got 'em both! Slap another two on the side, Zen!"

"Confirmed."

Avon opened his mouth to fire a volley of his own, but Blake shook his head and beckoned him over. "Leave him alone," he said quietly. "He was having nightmares about the people he's killed, and turning it into a game seems to help."

Avon was silent for a moment. He turned to look at Vila, who was now slumped morosely in his chair, his face colourless. "Well now." He went over to the weapons station. "Forty is a respectable score. Half way there."

Vila shrugged.

"I believe victorious airmen repaired to their mess for fried eggs and cups of tea."

Via looked up.

Avon picked up the empty glass. "Perhaps something stronger. Eggs Benedict and something just as red but a trifle more palatable?"

Vila stood up, looking considerably more cheerful. "Oh, I say. Jolly good show."



Inspired by Snoopy vs The Red Baron

And since people asked for a picture of Vila and Avon as Snoopy and Woodstock, here you go:

Subscribe
  • Post a new comment

    Error

    Anonymous comments are disabled in this journal

    default userpic

    Your reply will be screened

    Your IP address will be recorded 

  • 30 comments