The troubles with timey wimey gooey stuff (EXILES)

[Spiral]

Mojo-World:

It's been a tedious day.
All of the day's programming has gone flawlessly, ratings are up, and nothing needs fixed.
Everything seems well aligned.
I stand in the control room, 2 sets of my arms folded, inactive, as things run smoothly on their own, my watchful eyes dancing from monitor to monitor, to control panel, waiting for the slightest problem to happen.
My last set of arms continues to flow over the main panel in front of me, changing camera angles on cue, and line feeds.
I've seen so many television images already, I don't focus on any one program for more than 30 seconds before moving to the next one, and when things go wrong, it takes me by surprise.
It starts with a blinding wave of feedback, all screens turning to 'snow' and a high pitched squeal that makes me cringe in pain, quickly covering my ears with one set of hands, as the other two start to fly across multiple keyboards, searching for the problem.
When every single feed is snow, it's guaranteed to draw Mojo to the control room to scream at me, and I barely give him a signal that I heard him, as I continue to rush to restore the feeds.
Instead of answering him directly, I give him progress reports:

"Isolating the disturbance now Boss."

With the touch of a few buttons, it's done, and the high pitched squealing stops, half the feeds coming back right away.

"Disturbance Isolated, Bringing up all other feeds now."

A few more moments of typing and that's done, only one monitor showing snow.

"Feeds are at 99%, The disturbance is with the 'Exiles' Boss."

I pull up the last part of the 'Exiles' programming, and watch as the target tears up the tallus-prop, causing everything to go to shit.

"Damn second rate props."

The next part I have to do without all the equipment.

I move all of my hands in fluid motions, each one precise, casting my spell.
The final move brings one set of arms up, fingers around my eyes, and I see the team.
My voice seems further away, as I continue my progress report to Mojo:

"The disturbance has caused the entire team to teleport to another location. Scanning area now............ Scotland.
The team is near Cassidy Keep."

Once the location is known, I drop my hands, the spell dissipating, and the control room coming back in focus for me, and I hit a few more controls, pulling the team's newest location on screen for Mojo to see, as I explain what I believe happened here:

"When the 'Tallus' broke, the cheap materials it was made from jammed our programming signal, killing all the feeds.
It also created a bit of a time warp, our own traveling signal activating in static, tossing the team into travel, landing at the first station signal it came across, Cassidy Keep, one of many locations we have watched, across multiple dimensions.
It seems they landed in the 616 timeline, in Scotland.
We can see them here on this screen, but we have no way to record, as long as they stick around the broken prop, we can't bring them back either.
The broken prop is blocking every signal I send.
What are your orders Boss?"

I already know our only option is to go collect the team in person.
But it's best to let Mojo call the shots.
It makes him feel like he's actually doing something around here.

[Mojo]

It is yet another glorious day in the lives of all that reside in Mojo-Verse. The day is glorious because their obscene, obese overseer tells them it is. Their lives are made and run purely in the service and obedience of the one who created them and rules over them with a bony, unapologetic fist. The grandest of grime, the proud puegride prince of polluted production, the great Spin-less one himself...

[glow=brown,2,300]"Mojo, damn it! Don't ever forget the name, you hear me? Of course you can hear me, cause you sure as Hell can't talk, let alone act! You should be crawling on your knees, kissing my ground that I spit on on a daily basis, that you even have this job! Now stop your belly aching and DO YOUR JOB!!!"[/glow]

It is another day and yet another time when Mojo has to do his daily 'pampering' of the various actors and crew members that work on his 24 hour networks. Today's actor is whiny stunt-man who works on his newest show, "Pit of Doom", where contestant climb out of a 75 foot spiked wall hole before a pool of acid eat them alive. The stunt-man complains that he's one of the people who dangle on ropes with cattle prods, trying to shock the contestant, before being swallowed up by the acid pool. His argument my be void, if Mojo hadn't executed every member of the actor's union. Besides, in his mind, Mojo was the one in pain, as "Pit of Doom" was a mid-season replacement for "Brood Ranchers", the western-based reality show where farmers try to live and work next door to a Brood nest. Couldn't even make it past the season premier.

Quickly putting the whiny stunt-man out of his mind, Mojo makes down the corridors to his main viewing arena, hearing the latest rating polls read back to him by a scarred intern. She's scarred because the last intern to have her job was the one who told Mojo that the rating for "Woman's Bikini Hockey" was dropping, due to constant injuries, hypothermia, and ugly athletes. Their still trying to piece the body together.

[glow=brown,2,300]"Yeah, yeah, I know. The rating are top notch all over the board, the people are gobbling down the garbage I send their way, and the sponsors are shoveling more money on way than I can wipe my greasy self with. Life is good. Especially when these so-called professionals actually do their jobs and not...uh, what just happened?"[/glow]

The intern freezes in her track as she and Mojo peer around at all the monitors that suddenly lose their programing and switch to static. His blood starts to boil as he turns and moves out of the arena and down the hallways as fast as his metal legs could take him. He doesn't even wait until he gets to control room 2 before his lets lose with the screaming.

[glow=brown,2,300]"SPIRALLLLLLLL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"*door slam*"What the Hell do you think your doing, trimming all thirty of you fingernails! Why are we showing snow when we should be broadcasting several thousands of hours worth of programing out to the brain-dead masses!"[/glow]

His chef of operations and right hand(s) gal Spiral was quickly working to solve the problem. All six of her upper appendages were moving with speed and percussion until she points out the location of the problem.

[glow=brown,2,300]"AAAaaahhhhh damn it! It had to be my on-location show. It's always my on-location shows that give me indigestion. First 'Do You Want to Save Your Planet from Galactis,' then 'Brood Ranchers,' now this. Well what the Hell did they do now?"[/glow]

He doesn't hear Spiral's muttering of the prop Tallus they use to help transmit their broadcast over his rantings, but he does hear where the dimension-hoppers have landed. To which Mojo gives a confused look.

[glow=brown,2,300]"What? Scotland? What in the name of Scatner's girdle are they doing in Scotland? Scotland's not in Russia!"[/glow]

He waits until Spiral gives a full report of where the team was and why they can't boardcast. The information sends Mojo reeling with rage. It served him right for funneling the funds from equipment and medical care for actors to rebuild my statue. He admits there wasn't anything wrong with it, he just wanted it rebuilt for his amusement. Still, he was fieriest none the less.

[glow=brown,2,300]"What? You mean to tell me that piece of crap is the reason their in another dimension? Argh, that's what I get for cutting costs. It's bad enough they weren't giving us any mega violent action sequences like I'd hoped, but now their stuck in that rotten 616 world...and NO CAMERAS! AAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"[/glow]

The intern that was following him around now wished that she had taken her time in catching up with Mojo. For now she is the focus of his rage, as his picks the poor girl off her feet, holds her over his head, and uses his ungodly strength to rip her in half. Her blood splatter everywhere as he screamed with rage over the recent events. Then, calming down, he drops the two halves of the intern to the ground and takes a deep breath.

[glow=brown,2,300]"Okay. All right. Here's what we'll do. I want you to gather a dozen hunters and floating camera orbs, cause were going down to that rock their standing on, drag their worthless butts back here, and teach them a very important lesson: nobody, NOBODY, cancels a show but ME!"[/glow]

[Morph]

She reacts about how I expect at first, pulling back in a defensive stance, I'm sure if I'd made any other move but putting my hands up first, she would have done something... Something that would probably hurt. Allot.
But a universal symbol of hold up works, and she seems to be listening, the look on her face staying pretty stony.
She mutters as if she doesn't believe me, and well, I should have seen that coming.
If I were her, I wouldn't believe me either.
But I'm not her. I'm me. And I've been doing this gig for way too long to remember how preposterous it seems to those who have never been to alternate realities.
My eyes widen as she draws the Earth to her hand, grabbing for the Tallus, hitting me with an elbow.

"OOF!"

I cringe when the grip and her powers over dirt and rock start to push and pull on the Tallus, which is a pretty fixed structure to my arm.
I left my team on backup. If we fight, where they can only guess at what's going on from down there, they may attack.
Which could produce a few results, that all end in the same way. She buries us alive and leaves, Or she's distracted/knocked out/killed, thereby losing control of her powers, burring us all alive.
I keep trying to reason with her.

"You really shouldn't do that. Thing's pretty stuck on me. Part of it's power really. It's not supposed to come off."

And that's saying something, coming from someone made of unstable molecules.
I don't like Tallus. There's a reason why shape-shifters don't wear cloths.
It's a pain in the ass to form around such stuff.
When the thing cracks, I only get a split second to drop my jaw in shock, before it lights up the room, and I feel time ripping itself apart, with my arm stuck inside.
Before the 'jump' is completed, the broken Tallus disrupts my form, causing me to turn into so much liquid, unable to form coherent thoughts, or actual form.
I hate when this happens.
No matter what form I'm in when I lose it, going from everything, to nothing, not only robs my of all faculties, but any identity. Sense of Self.
I'm nothing.
Just a formless puddle.
When I come back to, the underground death chamber is gone, and so is the Russian Winter. Everything is sunny and green.
I make a moaning sound as I try to form.
My reforming looks every bit like the T-2000 from the Terminator movies.. (Yes, I have had the odd occasion to see some forms of entertainment on the time jumps I've gone through as an Exile. Stuff only the top most of Mutants would have access to on my world.)
A white puddle, rippling at first, before slowly moving. As I start to form a head, shoulders, all white and blank, no features, not much sense of self yet, My mind only half in order.
Only sense that readily comes back to me is touch. The grass, the dirt.. Someone's body.
On instinct, I draw away, the liquid me flowing over the person I've splash-landed on.
It's a good thing most people are visual creatures. They see a puddle... not my 'body'... If I had any form, this would be a very indecent position.
For both parties...
I know it's a female... the feel of the breasts, the hour glass shape I pull myself off of. If I could think straight, I'd be happy I have no real form for her to feel in return...
I continue to struggle, finally getting a body formed. The features, and my senses slowly returning after that, my real form. Featureless, Noseless, pasty me.
I blink, clearing new eyes, to see I've landed on the Russian girl that set all this into motion.
I look to see my team here as well, scattered, most likely shaken, but alive.
Pull it together Morph... you're the leader...
I look around, rolling green fields, beautiful view... I have no idea where we are.
As things clear up, I try to form more than just a white manikin body, and that's when I feel it. The Broken Tallus... still pretty much inside of me.
It takes allot to keep from losing shape all over again. I. Want. It. OUT. Now.
But, I keep a grip. Barely.
I need to act... Leader. Crazy stuff can lead to more chaos if I don't keep people focused...
Focus.
I sigh, my voice sounding a bit off as I look back at the Russian.

"I told you you shouldn't have done that. I didn't want to take you from your time."

I address my team as well,

"But, that's Mission Complete. With her taken out her time, she can't disrupt the continuum.
Now we just need the Time Broker to come pick us up.
Maybe he can put her back.
Of course, with the Tallus broken... I don't know if he can find us."

Instead of fighting to retain form, I push my form around the broken time piece, trying to get it out.
I don't know how it works, what power sticks it to a person almost permanently.
And it's broken. After that last wave, it doesn't seem to have any energy or power at all.
Not that I could ever feel if it did.
But right now, it just feels like a twisted, jagged, lump of metal tearing up my form from the inside.
The bottom half of my body goes back into the puddle, and I try to flow off of it, which seems to work, the chunk of metal ending up on the ground as I finally get back to my real form, Exile's uniform, bright, and in living color.
Hm. Now to say something to show everyone the leader has everything all figured out.

"He'll come get us. We can get Rusky here back home, probably some of you guys too. Successful missions mean someone who actually has a home to return to, can be rewarded.
We just need to hang tight."

I look around, thankful we landed in a vastly unpopulated area.
We don't know what world we're in. Having people react to our sudden appearance, would have been worse.
How long should we wait? Could we really be stranded for awhile, on some unknown world?
No... gotta stay positive. A leader has Hope.
Right?

[Azzurro]

Hello, everyone. My name's Morph. I'm the leader of the Exiles. No, really. I know my good buddy the Timebroker totally plucked you from your own time, where you had urgent priorities to attend to, but what's the big deal? That's what makes this thing so fun! What's that look for? Don't worry, I'm the leader and everything is totally under control. Nothing can possibly go wrong as long as I have the indestructible Tallus wallus attached to my little army warmies. What's that? We're in another time for no reason known to man or God? Well golly gee mister, I don't know what to say to that!

"Uhhh... Freakin' jerk. As I slowly manage to pull myself up off of my stomach, that one thought lingers in my head. What else is there to say really? I mean, how else can you explain being yanked out of time for no apparent reason because he tells you to let him negotiate with a ridiculously powerful Russian chick who he says won't do anything screwy if we're cordial to her, but of course she does do something screwy since she's a soldier and soldiers always look out for numero uno and by uno I don't mean themselves, but their "country" and... "Whoa."

Even though my body has readjusted, it would seem my brain hasn't yet. The fact that I can't exactly recall what happened makes this whole farce suck that much more. My suit's magnified vision saw the Russian chick start struggling with el Morpho and then BOOM, my magnifiers blanked out and we ended up here. "Here" is what I call this place, since I don't know where "here" is. You hear? Seriously though, it's a good thing I landed on grass. This suit's rag doll function charted the perfect landing position, which of course minimized any pain I suffered from the sudden impact. Weird, though. The landing still hurt. I thought "rag doll" meant you could be batted around and not take damage. Not from something like this anyways. Wait, that's pinball. Never mind.

After finally rising to my feet, I manage to take a quick glance around. Yup, looks like everyone's here. And wouldn't ya know it, our fearless leader managed to land right on top of the Russian chick. Some things really can't be explained. I don't really know what to do at this point in time, since it looks like our mission's been accomplished. Not exactly sure what the Russian chick will do either, I decide to zip on over to Morph and stand beside him. If Russky tries anything stupid again, I'll be at close enough range to fight her in my own element. Of course, the best thing for now is probably to stand by Morph and just keep a close watch. Maybe she learned her lesson. Plus, standing next to Morph grants me the opportunity to tell him what I think of him.

"I just want you to know that I saw everything that happened when we landed. You really need to get that puddle problem checked out. Is the Timebroker a doctor by any chance. He's obviously not a very good... uh... timebroker. Does that dude even know where we are? Do you?"

Why did I even ask that? Waiting for my teammates to come to their senses, I start to mull over my situation. If the timebroker guy can get us out of here, what do I do? Go home or stay with the team? As much as I hate my current predicament, there are certain advantages to time traveling. Like power-ups and stuff. Hmm... "What do you think?" Whoops. Didn't mean to say that one out loud. Watcha gonna do though? The next remark is clearly meant to be heard. I turn my head toward Morph, feeling some aftershocks of the recent time rip. "Freakin' jerk."

[Death Metal]

Okay, I'm getting shocking tired of the slag that happens to this group. Worse luck than hangin with a group of Thor Adventists. Only thing missing is the random lighting strikes.

One minute we're in the stone box being monologued to by the black boot babe, and the next second the whole world goes sideways, so fast that I don't even have time to react. Scans indicate the same sort of dimensional flux caused by Tofu's widget, but this one is far less precise, and shock of a lot less smooth.

Me and my bike go flying through the air, even my sensors not quite able to make out what happens in the transit, well beyonds some Nth dimensional algorithms I'm not even going to bother decoding. Whatever they mean can't possibly be worth the brainpower to understand it. Sort of abstract data that only makes sense to burnout and webheads.

On the other side though I keep my wits about me, decloaking the Velociraptor and mounting it in one smooth motion, using the bikes inertics to get myself settled on the ground, and in a good bit less disarray than what I'd planned.

I charge up my laser array and activate targeting, ready for anyone...well almost anything.

[glow=87CEEB,2,300]"A Ratbiting silven glen? What, did we pass on to Valhalla or some scrap? What the shock is going on?"[/glow]
Scans however show this is hardly heaven...Just somewhere in the northern hemisphere. Air scan indicates we're on a planet that hasn't been nuked or polluted to death, and solar radiation levels say that this place's ozone layer is intact.

On the other hand, its deader than Thor on the transmission nets. Just a hair of radio, and the odd Satcom. Virtually nothing. Almost as dead as the last place we visited. This place doesn't even have public access Wi-Fi. Just a bunch of green weeds all over the place, and some unfiltered sunlight to frag up my EM scanners.

[glow=87CEEB,2,300]"What a dump."[/glow]

I give the scans a moment to run to their duration, and then turn my attentions to Tofu, the mystery meat, noting that he seems to be pulling himself free from our former captor, now on even footing.

[glow=87CEEB,2,300]"Good job boss, you just managed to strand us on some varient of 21st century earth. Not even the good part of the 21st century. Ratbiting stone age."[/glow]

[Blue Beetle]

The negotiations in the cavern were exceedingly tedious as they lasted more than a few minutes, so Mary went back to watching her scanners.

There is a surge of unfamilar energy, which seems to come from their captor, then a cracking sound. That brings forth a blaze of energy that could only come from the Talus being damaged.

"Uh... we have a problem..." she suggests, but her voice is likely lost in the ensuing chaos.
Her suit's intertial sensors and other place-locators go mad as the stone chamber is engulfed in a burst of energy. When everything comes to a semblance of normalcy, the team's surroundings have changed completely... no more a tomb of stone deep underground but rather a grassy glen.

Everyone's signs seem to be approaching normal limits, and the environment does not appear to have any detectable dangers.

"Things seem to have stabilized... I have some interesting readings, but I will probably need some time to check the sensor logs. In the meantime, I will see what I can find out about where we... " she begins, sending off a brace of tiny drones into the sky.

No need, though, as Ghost Rider has already determined where they are.

[Mimic]

The more this keeps going on, the more convinced I am that we were going to die in this underground tomb. All because some stumpy little jerk thinks that stopping a war on this planet would save the universe…or something to that effect. Either way it doesn’t really matter since this bimbo on a boulder has us in her grasp. And with the walking toaster and human spark plug just itching for a fight, it all just seems inevitable that I’ll either get roasted or crushed. Fine, as long as I don’t have to put up with this shit anymore.

I guess our leader isn’t so willing to give up or start fighting. He stretches himself up to the floating boulder and starts talking to the woman face to face. I’m willing to bet that she was going to punch him in his rubbery face just for trying to get onto her level. But low and behold she seemed to be listening for the most part. That is until she goes for that Tallus thing on the leaders arm. With the means that she’s going after it, she must think it’s a weapon or something. All I know is this will not end well. And sure enough, she makes a crack and

*FLASH*

I had no time to react before we start traveling again. Only this time it feels worse, like where a cork being flung around in the ocean with no where to go. This time I do loss my lunch, and I think it went off in to the direction of another dimension. Not like I could pay any mind to it, on account of the fact that we were lost in time and space….

When we finally come to a stop, I fall to my knees and try to keep from throwing-up again. I hate doing this. I really do. After a moment, I lift my head up and noticed what everyone else sees: open sky, grassy hills, and a stone castle. At least we were underground anymore, but still we were trapped. Only this time we had no idea where we were.

Well, maybe that’s not entirely true. I look closely at that castle in the near distance. Something about it looks so familiar. Like I’ve seen it in a photograph or something. And the smells, being carried around in the wind. I swear I recognize them from…wait a second. I look down at the ground around us and notice a particularly familiar white flower. It…it’s a May Spinks! A flower that blossoms at the start of spring in Scotland. Thank you for that little tid bit, Cassidy. I guess no one else knows that little fact, so for the time being I’ll just keep quiet and see how this plays out.

Everyone seemed determined to figure out when and where we were. The cyborg somehow manifested some kind of freakish-looking motorcycle out of thin air and started doing whatever its doing. The bug lady sent some weird looking drones into the air. Probably for aerial recon. The cyborg determined that we were in the 21th century. Fine, at least we won’t have to participate in any ancient wars. Or any type of war, for that matter.

Our leader was doing his best to keep a level head, AFTER it was a pile of mush. I suppose we did accomplish our mission in some way, though unconventional as it was. He does his best to keep our spirits up by promising that the Timebroker would be here to fix this and maybe even send some of us back.

Heh. Fat fucking chance. If he thinks that he’s sending me back, he’s got another thing coming. I’d rather take my chances here in another world’s Highlands than be shipped back to a federal prison. So again, I stay quiet and see how all this turns out. And if the time comes, I’ve got three little friends hidden in my hand that are more than willing to meet the Timebroker.

[Thunderstrike]

* I'm about ready to light up that Siberian whore like a Christmas tree, when 'fearless leader' has to swoop in and tells me to stand down. Some jive about having to stop her without killing, says he'll reason with her. Right... we'll just invite her for tea and cookies and this'll ALL work out. Then he turns around and rather than just leave me to sit on my hands, he asks me to cover him.*

* Better than just standing here with my thumb up my ass.*

* He just stretches on up to talk while I'm left waiting on the sidelines, watching this negotiation progress. Isn't the kind of mission I'm used to. You don't give up an opportunity to drop the target. He tries to give her the low down... 'our leaping here with the best of intentions' bit... something she doesn't seem to be buying. Something I wouldn't be buying either if Higgins hadn't drug me into this nonsense.*

* Without warning she starts her earth-bending... using it along with some CQC in a grab for the Bracelet. And either by design or dumb luck... she's in too close for me to blast her WITHOUT hitting pimple puss. Just... fucking... wonderful.*

* Then... everything starts going to hell*

* There's a cracking sound... like glass breaking, before a surge of energy envelops the landing... and then the whole cavern... in a blinding light...*

* And that's not even the FUN part!*

* I'm caught in some kind of maelstrom... pure energy wrapping around... running through me... my skin is practically on fire from the feedback of getting tore through this cosmic tilt-a-whirl... all I'm left to do is scream as this thing pulls me every which way... images being force-fed into my brain... flashes like old news reels flipping by...*

* And it ends with an undignified thud.*

* Evertythings still fuzzy for a bit... I lay there, coughing. It even takes a while for me to notice yet another change in temperature... I shake the gears back into place in my brain... holding my head before trying to a good look around. Looks like everyone came through in, relatively, one peice... but it's fairly obvious we aren't in Siberia any more. Open feilds... tall grass... fresh flowers and warm spring breezes. Farm country by the looks of things... but which country remains to be seen.*

* Do they fucking give you frequent flier miles for this crap?*

* I give myself a quick once-over while everyones busy with their own stupid little business. Stats on the comm and transistors are still in the green... one of the few good things to happen. Going through that warp gate... having my molecules shoved through the cosmic wringer... had no idea what kind of energies I was exposed to. Don't want to risk an overload... even if I don't know or especially like any of these jerks. Collateral damage is an ugly thing... ironic it's here in farm country that I have to worry about this.*

* One time is bad enough...*

* From the sound of things... people are getting their heads together. Scrapheap comes flying down off of some recon... figures we're in the early 21st century... but doesn't seem too happy about it. Heh... maybe I'm lucky. Maybe we got dumped back in my world. Considering the only luck I've had in the past 24 hours is not overloading, I wouldn't count on it. Our 'fearless leader' tries to get us all to look on the bright side... even when he's been reduced to tapioca. We did what Higgins wanted... kept Natasha off the front for a day... and now we just gotta sit back and wait for pickup from our benevolent benefactor.*

* I'm getting tired of this shit...*

[glow=dbdbdb, 2,300]" And if he doesn't Then what? I don't know about the rest of you but I got pulled out of a hot zone for this damn opp!"[/glow]

* I growled out... not afraid to let anyone know that I, like the Scrapheap, am not happy about any of this. NOT in the least! Those psycho-bitches could be cleaning their teeth with Laura's claws as I speak... and we're supposed to sit with our thumbs up our asses and wait for some omnipotent butler to show up to caddy us along to the next mission.*

* Yeah, I'm pissed... I know it, and I don't care who else knows it. My hands putting emphasis on what I'm saying by pointing at the focus of my anger.*

[glow=dbdbdb, 2,300]" I left team-mates behind... and for WHAT? If you hadn't tried to play nice and cuddle up to her ungrateful candy ass this wouldn't have happened!! "[/glow]

* From nightmare-fueling swampland, to arctic hellhole, to some merry little glen perfect for pigtailed girls to skip through. God damn it, I fucking hate reality hopping!!!*

[Sasha]

As the repercussions of my actions continue to dawn on me, my thoughts go back to my time in training. If you get separated from your unit, step one was to establish at what point in time you became separated from them. That part, at least, was easy. Step two was to reorient yourself and regain your bearings. More difficult, as my surroundings we’re not entirely overflowing with landmarks that I recognized. Couldn’t even tell by the sun which way was north. Not good. Step three, assuming steps one and two we’re completed, was to rejoin with the unit as soon as was possible. That…was looking like it was going to be a problem. The device was gone, as was the snow white leader of the team. Probably turned into a mist from the forces unleashed. It’s a miracle I survived.

I try to stand, to get a better view of my surroundings. Not a good idea, my head is still spinning. I manage to raise to a squat before I have to brace myself and wait for everything to stop spinning. Its almost enough to make me feel ill, but I center myself and try to push through it. Sitting back down again, I take a few deep breaths and wait to regain my composure.

The remaining group seemed scattered, without any real direction. Some, like me, appeared to be busying themselves with gaining an idea of where exactly we had ended up. Good for the moment, but I doubt they are likely to take this turn of events in stride. My control over this situation was slipping. Recapture was certainly an option, but that would most likely serve to alienate them further. I might be able to force some obedience but not for long enough to see me back home. I felt a line of sweat go down my brow, and only then did I notice how hot it had gotten all of the sudden.

I set about stripping down my heavy furs, dropping layers of clothing, beginning to feel the breeze again. Even in the underground shelters, it never this temperate. Tossing the later layers away, I am left with the absolute minimum, a plain white top, unbuttoned as much as modesty would allow, and the underlining of my winter slacks, and a holster around my shoulder with my pistol. Even that didn’t to much, I was still sweating. Better than before at least. Looking down at my clothing, I nearly jump from shock as I see a white fluid seeping out of it, forming a torso and head. The mass continues to game definition, before finally I recognize it as the leader of these strangers. Seems he managed to survive to. What exactly he’d been doing within my clothing was a question that I hoped he had a good explanation for, though one that would certainly need to wait.

Most people don’t understand the reason why officers are given pistols. They arnt as back up weapons in a fight, though they can be. They are given to maintain order. The expectation is that you are to carry the weapon at all times, night and day, so that if you are ever forced to regain control of your unit, you can enforce discipline. Again, the notion of recapture comes to me, but I am hesitant at the moment. For better or worse, this group, at least its leader, seem to know more about the situation that I do. I am better of waiting and watching.

And listening, as it turns out. The group is quick to discuss their situation, and I catch some basic information about our surroundings. Not much of use at least. Most are unhappy with the situation, it appears. I can’t say I’d blame them. Their leader attempts to restore moral, acknowledge that their mission was accomplished, and that now they should wait tight for someone to come and evac them. He even mentions that perhaps I may end up being returned to my own homeland. If he is telling the truth or lying, I certainly cant say.

Feeling my strength returning, especially now without the extra weight of my heavy winter clothing, I manage to raise to my feet without toppling over. I go over the situation. Step one, regain control. Step two, find a way home. Step three, bring the Tallus device back for analysis. No…step three is regroup with my men before whatever battle is supposed to take place. Step four is brining the blasted arm band back.

The first step is to regain some control. Almost automatically, I draw my firearm, feeling the grip in my hands. It provides a sense of stability, one which I dearly needed. The White one shed the damanged device from his body. I don’t know if it was still capable of working or not, but it was about my only option at the moment.

I Speak, loud enough to be heard, holding my weapon at the ready, feeling the earth below me. Even on an entirely new world, the stone and soil and rock all still we’re a part of me, something else I could count on for stability.

“Nyet. Tightly hangink is not enough good. You are to be explain vhere we are be now, and to be takink me back to Russia, to My homeland. I vill not abandon soldiers to battle. ”

Despite everything, I hold myself strong and steady, almost daring them to challenge my command. Even though a challenge was the last thing I wanted at the moment.