Some dozens of faces look up at Trav as she pokes her head out of the TARDIS door.  Maybe two-thirds of them are soldiers of various ethnicities, wearing black fatigues.  Some of the others are wearing white lab coats.  The expressions turn to casual disinterest fairly quickly and people turn back to their food and their conversations, although a few of the soldier types do continue to pay attention and a few people snap pictures with their phones.

As Trav (and any of her companions) file out, a bright-eyed young corporal comes up to them.  He has a collection of what look like ID badges on lanyards.  He looks at Trav and holds up a badge, then shakes his head and turns to Smoke Alarm, holding out the badge to touch it to her forehead.  There's a tiny flash and pop, and then the corporal hands Smoke Alarm the badge, miming that she should put the lanyard around her neck.  Smoke can see that the badge now has her picture on it with the words


He offers badges to Stanley and (after performing the most atrocious rendition of a formal Draconian salute that the Legate has ever seen) to Sereth.

Sereth just regarded him for a long moment, before taking the badge, after a couple of words.

"Just... don't. If you are not absolutely certain about what you do, and with that salute you clearly are not, don't attempt it. Give the respect from what you -do- know, your people's form. Because not all would be as patient as I; and you may inadvertently offend someone with an attempt that is not even close."

He felt much better with his real person showing, with his blade at his side, though not in hand.

OOC: Keeping the picture for now; till I hunt it down again and make a note of where it was.

The soldier goes pale, but shifts instantly to a crisp regulation British Army salute.  "Yes, sir.  Apologies, sir; didn't mean to give offense, sir."

Curious as a rat, yet 'waring where they might be outgoing this time, Smoke Alarm poked her head through the door, dark eyes widening in delight as she eyespied where they were. A city! Towers all around, towers to the sky, towers of all shapes. A city to get lost-and-found in. After the vast parks and gardens of wild Silurian Earth, and the flat one-storey towers of Montana, this was more like it!

Overcoming her 'wariness, Smoke Alarm footed out, mazed to see people outlooking at her and using their talkiphone picture-takers at her. She waved back, feeling with a very important fancypants. But she was bewildered when the soldier touched a badge to her forehead and gave it to her. Putting it on around her neck, she eyespied the picture of herself, looking a bit rabbit-in-the-lights stunned. 'But I know who I am.' she protested.

Eyespying the soldier waving his hands at Sereth, she knewhow this game was played. 'Soldier-boy wants to how-you-do. Do we?' she told Sereth, bold and teasing. She advanced intently on the soldier, brave and bold, face set in a fierce glare, her movements slow but strong and precise. Stepping forward, making a fist, her right arm came up and across, somewhere between a punch and a block. But her left hand brought it down, the fist released with an open palm. Then she stepped forward again and did the same with her left. Next, she brought both hands up and clapped. Then she held both hands up, palms forward to the soldier, gesturing him to place his hands on them. Finally, she bobbed in a curtsey, bowing her head, before stepping back. 'Eyespy, that's how-you-do. Now you try.' she challenged.
This message was last edited by the player at 03:42, Thu 14 May 2015.

Trav holds up her UNIT Dallas badge. "Already got one, thanks. What's for lunch? She takes out her sonic, as she transfers her image from the newer badge to her older Dallas UNIT ID. But then she takes the London badge anyway, and sonics it back. "Hee, like con badges. I can cosplay as myself. How horribly meta." So, Trav is wearing two IDs - one as the 2nd Traveller, and one as the 5th.



Trav whispers conspiratorially, "He really likes you! If he didn't, he'd just regard you with silent disdain. That's the ambassador of the Draconian Emperor, doncha know. He's actually a really great guy whose acted to save the Earth more than once.

"So, what's your name, soldier? I figure we'd grab a quick bite, say hello to Kate quick, brief with Peizo and.... yeah, Oswald, that's his name, and then get going on the operation to rescue Colonel Rayburn.

Trav multitasks as she texts.


This message was last edited by the player at 11:21, Thu 14 May 2015.

"At ease, soldier. She's from a tribe called The Blue Kangs, and that's how they greet newcomers. It took me a few tries to get their greeting down. You reply like this. This is how-you-do." She walks the soldier through the how-you-do, including the curtsey. "How do-you-do! Build high for happiness. Truly civilized." Trav is smiling.

Being offered the badge, Stanley remembers that he already has an UNIT ID card. It is the
"UNIT Consultant" card that Amanda gave him. She advised him not to use it with the UNIT in this time period and it hadn't worked in Egypt, so he is not going to try and just accepts the new badge.



"Don't worry, you won't offend Smoke Alarm, even if you a make a mistake." Stanley adds. Not a moment ago Sereth had told the poor man not to try a salute he doesn't know and now Trav is trying to get him to do a Kang "how-you-do".

"See Stan? You're now an expert on time traveller relations. We can get you a consulting gig." She looks back at her phone. She understands that Boyd and Patel might actually be doing important work and may not have time to pal around with her. So, instead, she goes into her bag and gets her Ipad.

"Hey Chibi, wake up. Can you find these people for me?" She contemplates dumping a load of great yaoi comics on Kate Stewart's laptop, but decides against it - Kate has been pretty cool with her. She has Chibi track down Boyd, Patel, Speizo, Osgood (and also pulling a file on whoever this person in). While here, she has Chibi track down the current statuses of Harry Sullivan, Jo Grant, and Sarah Jane Smith. She trusts Chibi not to trip too many UNIT internal security defenses - not like she couldn't get past all of them. It's only serious enough to give the newbies on their IT staff a decent workout.

Then, she says to the team, "I need to do something. I'll be right back." She pops into the TARDIS, and comes back out a few minutes later with a bouquet.  She trots out of the commissary to the nearby courtyard, where the memorial to the fallen is.

The flowers are not only a mix of earthly blooms of various types, but also several <a href=http://tardis.wikia.com/wiki/G...rance>Gallifreyan Flowers of Rememberance</a> - the one circumstance where these flowers can be respectfully used.  He may still be dead. Amidst the cards and memorials, Trav sticks a largish post-it note - "For the fallen defenders of Earth and Gallifrey - you are loved and remembered. You are always with us. We do what is necessary in your name. The mission continues. We will bring the survivors home." On it are scribbled the UNIT wings, the RDF chevron, and Seal of Rassillon, in the colors used by Exigency.




The tears come so easy these days. She thinks of the bridge crew of the SDF-1. Her husband. Old UNIT comrades. Her Exigents. Malakai, Julian, Sir Patrick, Erin Tarn, The Corsair, The Doctor, her children. At the end of the roll of honor on the monument, she sees the name, Alistair Gordon Leftbridge-Stewart. She thought he was just retired. "Oh. Oh, Brig."

She can't believe that she was still here, and such great ones were gone - a girl stargazer, a second assistant, who swore she was just going to use an old time capsule once. She touches the name, as she holds her hat, in stone.

Oh, what long shadows the great ones cast.
This message was last edited by the player at 20:48, Fri 15 May 2015.

OOC: Everyone should reset their Story Points at this time.

However, Stanley earns another one just for rescuing this poor guy and recognizing that Trav is being COMPLETELY RIDICULOUS. :D

"Ma'am," the corporal says to Trav.  "Mitchison is the name," he adds.

Then he turns to Smoke Alarm and makes a game attempt at replicating the Kang how-you-do.  He flushes beet red by the time he curtseys, in front of a great many of his fellow squaddies.

"Now...."  He takes out a smartphone and taps away at it.  "Ma'am, I show no 'Peizo' or 'Oswald' with UNIT.  We can fetch you something to eat, but I expect you'll want to speak to the Director, ah, directly."

OOC: Also, I'll leave it to Gareth whether Commander Boyd puts in an appearance.

Trav squints a little, and then checks her e-mail again. "Whoops. I got my spelling wrong, nearly 800 and I'm turning senile. I worked with a Corporal Victor Speizo in Egypt recently, and in some information I was forwarded in regards to Colonel Rayburns situation referred to an Osgood & Osgood. If you can be a dear and look those folks up for me? I'll need to brief with them. Also, Corporal, are you familiar with an analyst by the name of Henry Boyd or a Sergeant Patel? Dear besties of mine."

"Now, I'll be back in a bit. I need to do one little thing. The fallen must be honored."

OOC: Trav does her memorial thing

OOC: If we could convince him to join us for an adventure that'd be marvelous. I wonder how he'd react to a blond, more potty mouthed Traveller? If not, a brief cameo would be great. As for Trav being ridiculous - I actually do have a distinctive trait, I think, so I am kind of contractually obligated to be wacky.

OOC: WOuldn't that fit eccentric better?

OOC: Smoke has both! :) Smoke originally suggested Mitchison do the how-you-do, so it's not entirely Trav being nutty. :p

How long has it been since we left Livingston? How much of Smoke's injuries would have healed now?


Smoke Alarm outlooked impassively on as the soldier-boy tried the how-you-do, returning the last stage with a pat-a-cake and another curtsey. It was passable, but he was no Kang, of course, and was unbold. But, unlike Sereth, she wouldn't make a to-do about it; the Kang how-you-do was meant for two people.

As Traveller cameout of the talkiphone box with flowers, she drifted after her, outlooking on as she placed them by some kind of sign. 'It's a scrap-heap?' she realised sadly. She walked circles around it and performed the cross-body palm-out gesture, but didn't know any of the people well enough to chant for them.

Trav steps back, sniffing, tears streaming down. "UNIT, they're good caretakers, they protect this planet from bad things. These are all people who got made unalive keeping other people safe. They can be yawny and uptight, but they give everything to make sure that everyone else can play games safely. They patrol the carrydoors. All of these folks, they're in the great pool in the sky. This is... my chant, for the unalive. Like that Pex guy you told me about, just like him. This flower, it's from my home planet. It's for all of the brave unalive ones." Trav tries to explain it in Kang terms, not that successfully, probably.

'Oh.' Smoke Alarm said, having nothing else. It wasn't a time to be talky. Good caretakers? she wondered. She bowed her head in sad respect, and walked another circle around the scrap-heap. Because, in the Towers, everyone goes on the scrap-heap in the end, and the Kangs erected heaps of scrap as totems to remember the unalive.

OOC: She's good.  She's probably had a couple of days of resting and reading books and snuggling with sympathetic Us, as well as treatment by Dr. Newton, so she may be a bit achy but is completely functional.

"An expert in time traveller relations?" It is true that Stanley has interacted with a couple of time travellers and alien species, but not that many. A lot more than the average person, but way less than Trav and Sereth. He certainly wouldn't call himself an expert."I'll keep it in mind, but I think I'd rather help people with my medical skills and knowledge. Maybe if I get bored with that."

OOC: RE: Boyd:
I have nothing against him appearing.

Some time later....

Mitchison has escorted Stanley and Sereth, Trav and Smoke Alarm to a conference room nestled within the White Tower.  (Stanley, being a native of this time, this country and this very city, is astonished at how UNIT manages to conceal its operations in "plain sight" on an historic site open to tourists and vistors: his tax money, it seems, is being exceedingly well spent.)  The room is appointed with a large flat-screen and conference phone, but otherwise its furnishings are fairly basic corporate, well-made but not ostentatious, unless the chairs, table, etc. have features that aren't readily apparent.

After a short while, the door opens and four people enter.   They're led by a relatively unassuming-looking man in an immaculate UNIT uniform, who Trav recognizes as Commander Henry Boyle.  Following him, also in uniform, is Specialist Spiezo, who Stanley and Trav both remember from their escapade in Egypt.  And they are followed by a pair of young women.  They're alike enough in appearance to be twins, and they're both wearing glasses and lab coats, but Trav has to do a double-take -- under their white coats, the one on the left is wearing a white silk blouse and a floor-length tweed skirt very like what the First Traveller wore back when she was barnstorming around Africa back in the day, while the woman on the right is wearing a blue school uniform-like ensemble, complete with tie, that Trav would swear is an exact copy of her look from her second incarnation.

The officer scans everyone's faces and gives a smile as he settles on Trav's.  "Traveller!  It has been a long time, though I'd guess not as long for me as it has for you.  Director Stewart asked me to help conduct the briefing... her exact words were 'tear yourself away from that Viyran cipher for a few hours,'" he adds ruefully.  Addressing the others, he says, "I'm Commander Henry Boyle, attached to UNIT.  I accompanied the Traveller on her journeys, for a while... though not this Traveller."

Indicating the others, he goes on, "Specialist Victor Spiezo, who may be able to give you some more insight into the technical complications that our team have been wrestling with in devising a rescue for the Rayburn expedition.  And... the Osgoods," he says, a bit hesitantly, "who have been looking at some of the theoretical issues involved with the dimensional interface."

Spiezo, a relatively slight and small fellow by the standards of the UNIT soldiers that everyone has seen around the Tower, gets very wide-eyed at the sight of Sereth.  For a moment, he fumbles with a device hanging on his belt -- not an obvious weapon, so far as Sereth can tell -- but then he catches Trav's eye and gulps, with a guilty expression, and leaves the gadget alone.

"HENRY!" Trav hops up out of her seat and immediately runs into Henry's arms, giving Henry a big glomp. "Look at you, you look great!" She sadly smiles at him. ""Some things have changed, and not just glasses." She's sure that Boyd has high enough clearance to know about The Marshall, and the Time War. "But look at who I saw. Look at him! He's just a bit greyer is all. But he still kicks ass." On her phone is a picture of Zhu Rheng, standing next to a frowning Warlock. "I know you're super busy, but if you can, I want to get dinner with you. Lots to talk about. Lots of important stuff to talk about. I haven't heard from Gwendolyn, but I mean to track her down."

And she turns in utter shock at the two women. "Oh, ladies. Um, hi. I'm really flattered..." but Trav isn't sure if she is being praised, or trolled, as she looks at the two women in disbelief. She extends her hand, somewhat at a loss for words. "I'm the Traveller. This is face number 5. Hank, if there's a red headed UNIT person around here in a leather military uniform, Kate is getting yelled at."



Spiezo gets a glomp and a smooch on the forehead. "The team is together again. Good to see ya, buddy. You been keeping tight-ass Weber out of trouble? I hope the entire Egypt team has been allright. We saved the world, baby. I hope our sonic drill is being moved into mass production."

She lets go of poor Speizo and introduces her Companions. "Allow me to introduce the people who current run with me and help me see straight - Doctor Stanley Newton, saver of lives and the TARDIS straight man. He's my rock. He and his mom help me make the right decisions of the heart, and he's the best MD who has been on the TARDIS since Doc Holliday. Next, we have Smoke Alarm of Paradise Towers. She's a Blue Kang, from Paradise Towers, who met the Doctor and Mel long ago and is now outgoing to play ball games and wall scrawl across the universe. She teaches me more than I teach her. She can run and go anywhere and can do Kang Fu. Also, Blue Kangs Are Best. And finally, Sereth, the Ambdassador of Draconia and blade and hand of the empire's Emperor. He brings dignity and justice where ever he goes, and is the cutting edge of peace. His blade keeps me safe and he has felled many an enemy of of the Universe, consider him a friend of Earth. They're my family, I trust them all with my life and beyond."

She takes a seat. "While I've worked with UNIT London for years, my home UNIT office is UNIT Dallas." She holds up her old UNIT Dallas badge. "I worked with Colonel Rayburn back when he was Sergeant Rayburn, back during the Invasion of the Mummies, when the Daleks assaulted the Alamo, and during the Dinosaur Rodeo of 1938. So, I owe him, and I'm bringing him home. I'm sure you have a presentation ready. If you three can forward whatever technical details concerning this case to my UNIT FTP? It'll get forwarded to my IPad. Lets get this show on the road, I'd love to see what Josh and his team were originally were investigating, that they were in what appears to be in some kind of submersible."
This message was last edited by the player at 02:19, Sun 17 May 2015.

"Good boy, Speizo. You're overcoming your scanning impulse. But you know what might help? Making that device look something less like a -gun-. May I see it?"

Trav smiles benignly. "Also, if you ask the Ambassador politely, and assure him that it's in the interests of the scientific advancement of your world, and that you obviously admire him as an ideal example of his species, he may let you scan him."
This message was last edited by the player at 01:31, Sun 17 May 2015.

Outgoing inside the tower, Smoke Alarm outlooked curiously around, wondering what this whole place was for. Their comeout was a meeting-square-room with a big picture-spout and talkiphones. It was all very fancy-pants, at least by Kang standards. Smoke Alarm jumped on a wheely-chair and spun around and around and around.



'No ball-games!' Smoke Alarm protested with an alarmed yelp, jumping to her feet again. Didn't Traveller have the knowhow by now? 'No fly-posts, no ball-games.' she continued, repeating the last because she didn't have a third for the sing-song.



'Blue Kangs, Blue Kangs, Blue Kangs are best!' Smoke Alarm sang out loudly, making safe-and-sure that everyone knew and knew it well, and pumping her small fist with every word.

"See what I mean? I need to visit the Paradise Towers. I can teach them soccer or stick ball. Smoke, I should bring you to see the '84 Mets vs Phillies. Baseball is America's game! Don't let NFL heads tell you otherwise."

'No! No ball-games!' she exclaimed, dismayed.

A grunt.

"It's clearly not a weapon. Or if it is, this species is even more primitive at this time than I believed." A wistful sigh. "Oh we best get it out of the way with." His eyes glanced at Spiezo. "I am an ambassador of the Draconian Empire. If you wish to scan me, or whatever, have at it. But be aware it better be the scanner it is claimed to be, and not an effort to weaken me, or ambush me."

He was being friendly enough for now, his hand nowhere near his blade.

Spiezo looks up at Sereth, and glances at Trav.  "Sir, I've been told -- more than once -- that letting my curiosity get the better of my manners is a habit I need to correct.  I am surely still working on that, but, I do realize that treating any visitor like a specimen to study is an offense -- much less one vouched for by a trusted advisor to UNIT.  If you're willing to provide biomedical data for our researchers, we'd be happy to have it, but at the moment you're our guest, here to help us with a particularly difficult problem.  I'd prefer to concentrate on that."

Sereth notices that the commander gives Spiezo a slight, approving nod, without making a big issue out of the exchange.

Boyle mutters darkly under his breath, but the only word that anyone catches is "cricket".

He clears his throat.  "Yes.  Well.  Mr. Spiezo, if you would be so kind?"  He nods at the screen, and Spiezo takes out a small tablet and keys some commands.

The screen activates, displaying a detailed three-dimensional topographic model of the Caribbean sea floor.  It rapidly zooms to show an oddly shaped green wireframe outline in 3D, some distance off the bottom.  The display also shows a timestamp.  "Here's a map of the dimensional distortion, dialed twelve months back," Spiezo explains.  "Now watch what happens as we run the model forward."  The animation starts, showing how that structure's shape twists, expands and contracts over a period roughly a week in length.  Additional visualizations show additional physical quantities oscillating over the same time frame, including patterns of electromagnetic and gravitic flux, flows in the motion of sea life and ocean temperatures, and the like.  Trav's eye soon realizes that she's seeing a three-dimensional "shadow" of a more complex motion in higher dimensions.

Spiezo taps another sequence and the animation slows to a crawl.  He walks up toward the screen.  "Now you see here, at the widest point of dilation,"  -- he indicates an aperture opening in the middle of the green structure -- "there's a short window of stability.  In this interval, it's wide enough that we could send a craft through, a Reconnaissance Oceanographic Vessel (Emergency / Rescue).  Good for a four-person team; a ROVER isn't as large or robust as the SPOT that Colonel Rayburn's team took in, but it would do to transfer people out over several trips."

"The problem," puts in one of the Osgoods, "is that passage through the anomaly, of course, creates dimensional stresses: the more mass, the more stress.  We don't have data to analyze from before the scans we made after the Jenny Dee disappearance--"

"--but the EM signatures we took then," says the other Osgood, "from before Rayburn took the SPOT through, were different from those we're seeing now.  And the aperture at its widest, now, isn't large enough to pass the SPOT, even though it clearly was earlier.  So--"

"--we're concerned about pushing another mass shadow through, and whether that might cause further contraction, maybe a complete collapse.  Our mathematical model says it won't, but--"

"--but that's only a model.  Testing it empirically, even with something as small as a UUV, could trap Colonel Rayburn's team for good, if we've got it wrong."

(The Osgoods hardly seem to have even noticed how they've been seamlessly picking up the same technical discussion.)
This message was last edited by the GM at 03:13, Mon 18 May 2015.

"Then taking sweet boy through the aperture would be the baddest of ideas. Sweet Boy has his own mass, and could entirely shatter that aperture. Hm. Hm Hm Hm. Girls, let me see your numbers. I want to see if I can get sweet boy close enough to take readings and act as a platform to conduct operations."

Trav aims her sonic at the presentation, superimposing a familiar looking blue box. A hemipshere is over it in green, that says ATMOSPHERE. Blinking, she's set the distance of the atmosphere field at the highest distance she can. "No one in my team has SCUBA training, and if the Colonel or his team are injured, tranpsorting them underwater would be hard, anyway. What I'm trying to suss is whether or not a party of us can walk across the sea bed and go through that Rift - something which I have a small measure of experience. Unlike a certain other character with a blue time travelling police box, I've had some pretty extensive experience in travelling to other dimensions. It's usually very dangerous, which is why I like to say here. Also, I may be able to rig something up with the girls and Speizo that can act as a block-transfer conduit, so we can stabilize that aperture to get our people out. Not to mention what is on the other side of that thing. Do you have any idea of what might be on the other side of that thing based on any further data, or any of Josh's transmissions, Henry?"

OOC: Trav goes over the Team UNIT's number's - Ingenuity+Science?
This message was last edited by the player at 12:38, Sun 17 May 2015.

OOC: Sure, you can make a roll.

In reply to The Guardian (msg # 30):

OOC:12:40, Today: The Traveller rolled 22 using 2d6+14 with rolls of 4,4. Trav works out Team Unit's numbers - Ingenuity 8+Science 6.

As Trav studies the situation a little more closely, she realizes that the atmosphere scheme is likely to be extremely problematic.  At a depth of 1250 meters, the anomaly is more than 700 meters off the local sea floor.  Moreover, the information about local ocean conditions from the details in the original dossier suggest that there is some degree of free flow between the environments on either side when the aperture is open, with a low pressure differential.  Reducing one side of the passage to sea level atmospheric pressure would cause any transit through the flow to be into the face of a flow at the water pressure on the other side.  Pressure at that depth in Earth's ocean is around 500 PSI, so trying to move against it would be harder than swimming upstream through a fire hose!

The block-transfer conduit seems more promising, albeit challenging.  Without redesigning and constructing a great deal of equipment from scratch, though, it would require the TARDIS nearby, and Sweet Boy would be basically unusable for transportation while maintaining the conduit.  More, monitoring and operating Sweet Boy's block transfer rectifier would take continual attention, and that means leaving someone on station -- preferably, someone that Sweet Boy already likes and trusts.

As Trav ponders this, Commander Boyle pulls up some contact logs and plots.  "From what we gather, the refuge where Lieutenant Flynn was able to maneuver the SPOT is about a dozen klicks from the far side of the aperture.  A bit of a hike, to say the least."

Stanley frowns when the Osgoods explain this. He takes another look at where the anomaly is, before speaking up. "I may be missing something, but the anomaly is underwater right? Not on the sea floor, but still underwater. And seawater has mass, so why doesn't the water flowing through the anomaly have that mass shadow problem? If a small UUV could destabilize the anomaly, why not the litres and litres of seawater?"
This message was last edited by the GM at 03:13, Mon 18 May 2015.

"Hm, Stan has a point. Because it could be an artificially generated singularity that was designed to ignore the quantum characteristics of water. Which means that if we can reproduce the quantum characteristics of water somehow, we could bypass that. Maybe. Perhaps. Might also be a density thing."

OOC:Shame on you for using simple logic for disrupting Whovian technobabble, Stan!
This message was last edited by the player at 20:38, Sun 17 May 2015.

Still fuming about ball games, Smoke Alarm outlooked at the picture-spouts and the show-and-tell, trying to work out what all the blobs meant and what the comeout was at the bottom of the pool. 'It's like those rats and the brain-thing!' she said of the anomaly as it got biggerer and smallerer, and pointed and twisted her hand in the air. 'It's, it's outgoing up the corner.' That seemed the best way for her to describe the extra-dimensional anomaly, through a Kang's own weird sense of jommetry.

She wasn't perturbed by the two Osgoods. Left Turn and Right Turn had outlooked the same too, but they had joined different Kang teams and had different colours, so they could be eyespied apart.

Hearing Stan and Traveller, she had an idea. 'Mayhaps the water holds it open. Like filling a plastic bag with water, it gets biggerer with more water in it.' she tried to explain water pressure. 'Then spose you toss a brick in, some splashes out, and the brick hits the bottom, the bag stretches, and sploosh! It all comeouts.' Smoke Alarm made a little sploosh motion in the air with her hands, feeling rather pleased with her knowhow. Science! 'If you can't put a big thing in, then mayhaps a small thing? Like a pool-cleaner with a picture-taker and a talkiphone? Then it could eyespy the other side.'
This message was last edited by the player at 02:34, Mon 18 May 2015.

The Osgoods look at each other, then at Stanley.

"No, you're quite right, Dr. Newton.  It doesn't add up.  But we are caught in a dilemma: the data that we have has led us to believe that putting a vehicle into the breach could destabilize it -- but getting better data means putting a vehicle into the breach."  Glancing at Trav, the speaking Osgood adds, "But putting a means of actively stabilizing it in place would make that problem go away, at least, and perhaps then we could find out what is actually happening."

As they follow along with Smoke's contribution to the conversation, they nod.  "Yes, that's right, that's what we were of.  U U V, that stands for Unmanned Underwater Vehicle, it's just like what you're talking about -- a little robot with a camera that can swim in the ocean and send back pictures."

"So, it still makes sense that we try to go in on foot? Also, I think that Sweet Boy, from maybe 50 meters away, might have slightly better sensors than a UNIT submersible robot, with all due respect." She winks at Speizo. "I think at the very least I can get is close enough for some passive scans to get us more definitive data without disrupting the anomaly. Also, I lived on a planet full of them that had dragons and space wizards for nearly 100 years, so it's kind of in my wheelhouse. Unless anyone else has a better plan? Also, ladies, you and Speizo get to take your very first TARDIS trip, although it won't be across time. But still!"
This message was last edited by the player at 06:04, Mon 18 May 2015.

Smoke Alarm nodded to the Osgoods, happy to have her knowhow confirmed. 'If not a you-you-vee, then mayhaps... a fishy? With a talkiphone. Do fishies go through?'

"It makes sense, but is it safe?" Stanley asks. "I guess that depends on the answer to Smoke's question. If the fish can safely pass through, then humans not in a submarine should also be fine."

Trav has her elbows on the table. "Stan, baby, this is marching into Mordor level danger. I'm going to get rid of all the water using TARDIS atmosphere field shenanigans. We're not going to take a sub through that hole, we're walking through on foot. Ladies, run that through your numbers. Is that safer? The TARDIS force fields can withstand pressures from a black hole, so I think it can withstand the  P.S.I. from the ocean floor - although we should know the depth just in case and have a rescue vehicle on standby."

"It's not safe. At all. Whatever breathing apparatus you have in mind, could break at a critical moment. Also, there's water pressure. And to equate 'because fish can do it, so can humans without a submarine' as something to base your theory on is foolish. Fish or not humans. They're certainly not Draconians. If you wish to do this, you need to go in understanding that there is every chance you will not return." A deep breath. "However, if you are willing to do this, and understand this, then we go forth. Nothing is ever achieved by a refusal to do anything that is not safe."

The Osgoods, and Spiezo, look at Trav for an uncomfortable while.  Second-Traveller-Osgood finally gives Commander Boyle a helpless look, where he has been sitting with a polite, but fixed expression for the same length of time.

Boyle gets to his feet.  "Let's take a break," he says.  "Trav, do you want to take a walk with me?  We can go and feed the ravens."

TRav actually does some numbers. "Oops. Uh, yeah. Hm. Safe for me isn't safe for you guys, and I want things to be as safe for you guys as possible. So, despite how cool it could be to walk on a dry ocean floor, I think Sereth has it right here. Let's go with what the Osgoods had in mind. Sorry, I think I let my passion for bizarre solutions get the better of me. Sorry, ladies. Thanks, Sereth."
This message was last edited by the player at 04:58, Tue 19 May 2015.

Trav hops up. "Henry, if I'm going to suggest something stupid and get people hurt, call me on it. Sometimes my brain gets too big for my britches, you know, baby? Coffee and donuts. I can take embarrassment, I can't take losing any more of you. I'm not a girl version of -him-." She slips an arm around Henry's waist. "Ladies, Speizo - it's your show, I'm support. Let me know how I can help."
This message was last edited by the player at 05:01, Tue 19 May 2015.

Henry gives Trav a wry smile.  There's no sting in his words, but Trav can tell that he's serious, all the same.

"I think I know why the Director told me to work with you," he says.  "Because I've been there.  And I get how sometimes you lose track of getting the job done, when there's the chance of showing people something amazing while you're at it.  And, Trav, trust me -- it really is enough just to work miracles, sometimes.  You don't have to do them while turning cartwheels and whistling 'God Save The Queen'.  I assure you, Rayburn and his people will be just as impressed."

"Hank, I'll be doing "Yankee Doodle." Ok, let's get started, we have some people to rescue.

Smoke Alarm outlooked a bit bemused as the others got all talky and there was small to-do and Traveller footed off with Henry Boil. 'Kangs are not fishes either.' she pointed out, just in case it needed to be pointed out. She'd browsed books and viddies of animals once, and thought she had the rough knowhow.

'Or mayhaps we send... a dolfin?' she proposed, persisting with real, practical ideas. Then again, a sea animal with a tracking collar didn't seem infeasible. 'With a talkiphone... I mean, they can't use talkiphones with flippers,' Smoke Alarm flapped her hands at chest level to demonstrate, 'But Traveller can probly track back and eyespy what's on the other side, like a eyehole in the door.'


OOC: Where's Destrii when you need her...

"Smoke has a point, Henry. The Doctor had a talking talking Penguin he rolled with for a while, never liked me much. But that was when I was bad. I don't suppose you guys have a Dolphin in a labcoat on staff or something around here?"

In response to Smoke's question - "I can rig up something for a Dolphin or Porpoise, but I'm not having anyone or anything swim through that whole without informed consent. Hm." Then Trav's eyes light up.

She spins and turns to the Osgoods and Speizo. "Hey Ladies, Speizo we need low mass undersea vehicles, right? Smoke, you remember Dev's Skybike? I once outfitted Scott Bernard and his Robotech Rebel's with aquatic cyclones."

"IT'S TIME FOR AQUACYCLES.""

Trav turns around her Ipad, and shows them something like this -



"We can follow behind your small robot vehicle! I can outfit these with low impact solenoid batteries that shouldn't disrupt that anomaly. Low tech, and COOL. You all want to be COOl, don't you?"

Ever since Trav arrived back at UNIT, she seems to be regressing back into her somewhat more wacky 2nd persona a bit.
This message was last edited by the player at 14:49, Tue 19 May 2015.

Sereth grimaced. It wasn't about being -cool- or whatever. It was what would be effective. If her plan worked - fine. But the effectiveness of it had to come first, not some stupid idea of what looked good. The Draconian just scowled, and said nothing. Not at this point.

"Oh, Sereth. You take -such pleasure- in being disgruntled! It'll be fun, trust me! And I wouldn't be throwing this up if it wasn't effective. No one here has SCUBA training and we need underwater vehicles."

"That's not really the point. I take pleasure in seeing a job well done; in seeing the most effective means used, without care for how much 'fun' it will be." He glanced at Smoke for a moment. "Why concentrate on the 'coolness' factor? How much 'fun' it's going to be? Why not concentrate on the fact it will be effective, and the best way to do it? Yes, I know what Smoke will say to that, and you'll probably say the same. But if it comes down to it, I would rather be the boring 'yawny' Draconian, than the dead one because adequate measures are not taken."

A Draconian soldier had more in common with UNIT than he might want to think of.

Trav takes his hands. "That makes you beautiful. Loyal, steadfast, true. I hope one of these days I can make you laugh, oh sword of Draconia. Anyway, ladies, how does that sound? Lean scuba suits and icehot aqua cycles? Give me 5 minutes in Sweet boy and I can get 5 or 6 together."

'Pool-bikes? Icehot!' Smoke Alarm cheered at the idea, then caught herself after eyespying Sereth's outlook. She stop-signed. She'd met Sereth first, on that desperate flight from Arsuran on the Lucky Drifter, and was always torn on whether to outlook to the icehot fun Traveller or the sure-and-safe Legate for guidance. She had an again-think. It might be all icehot fun, but was it really shape-ship and sound? 'Um. But what about air-conditioning and water pressures and pee-ess-eyes? And do we need scoobers or not?'
This message was last edited by the player at 15:47, Tue 19 May 2015.

"Sweety, Leggit Sereth does have a point! That is why we need RIGOROUS TESTING." She turns and makes to Sereth a hilarious frowny face. "But in all seriousness, I'll be working off of one of the standard UNIT templates and just juicing it up a little. I would not take any of you onto a platform where you'd be hurt, and I've rebuilt Veritech Fighters, Space Fortresses, Hot Rods, Trains, even bicycles. You've ridden on my work already Smoke - Dev's hot rodded up Skycycle. But the ladies and Speizo get the last call, this is their show. Ladies Osgood, Corporal, what do you think?"
This message was last edited by the player at 16:50, Tue 19 May 2015.

The UNIT personnel all trade are-you-going-to-answer looks.

At last Spiezo speaks up.  "Well, I know I don't know how to redesign the kind of vehicles you're talking about.  That's why we were using what we have -- the ROVER might not be ideal for this, but it is off-the-shelf.  Smaller vehicles might cause less of an impact on the rift's stability, I guess.  Remember that we need to evacuate people, too, so you'll have to make allowance for pressure suits and passengers as well."

He shrugs.  "There's about a week until the next window opens, so that's the kind of time scale you have to work with."  He glances at Boyle.  "I think we can get some of the mechanics people to get you help.  Remember, too, unless you find some better way to stabilize the rift, I'd think you'll want to get in and out as quickly as you can."

OOC: Beyond that you can fight it out among yourselves.  If you're going to do this custom vehicles business just make one Ingenuity + Technology roll to give me an idea of how up you have souped them.  Also, in that case, everyone should probably consider what you're going to do in the meantime -- assist Trav, get some underwater training in, or what.

(You are, of course, a short distance away and contemporaneous with Mom Newton, if that suggests anything to do.)

Smoke Alarm frowned and admitted 'Dev didn't want to say-so, but he was a bit unhappy to not eyespy his old sky-cycle.'

Another think-again, and Smoke asked 'What if mayhaps we put the talkiphone on the ROVER? Then, even if the nomaly closes up with no exits, we can still make a fire-escape in the talkiphone box. Would it fit?'

She remembered something Trav had said before. These scoobers were being talked a lot, and they seemed important. ''Do we need this scoober training? I can splish-splash in a pool just fine, with floaties.'
This message was lightly edited by the player at 02:21, Wed 20 May 2015.

Trav crosses her arms and sighs. "Ok, I suppose I will have to restrain myself. You people are giving me the same looks that Emil Lang and the team did when I installed those gravity pods on a certain battle fortress. How did I know they were going to break away? I made sure we had reaction thruster backup! And yes, I can make sure we have communications on the ROVER, that's easy.  Smoke, we don't need a fire escape - Sweet Boy can just hold back the water at the door."

"Corporal, just show me what you need, and we'll work from there. If the aquacycles will make things more complicated, we'll ditch them. We'll work from your plans."
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CaJLfhdEzWA
OOC:(advance to 10:15)
This message was last edited by the player at 04:35, Wed 20 May 2015.

At some point during that week, Sereth approaches the Traveller.

"Do you have a moment? I think we need to talk."

It was hard to read him; but he did seem more the diplomat that talked down Warlock; than the soldier that sent thugs cowering.

(Presume this is as Trav is helping make preparations for the rescue effort. And despite her wacky suggestions, she fully follows the lead of the UNIT team, tamping down crazy enthusiasm and going with their plan.)

"I always have time for you, Sereth. What do you need?"

He sighed.

"It's not about me. You're... smart. Very smart. You can tinker with things without even thinking about it, and it works out okay." His eyes focused on her. "But just because you can, doesn't mean you should. It's not necessarily even about whether it's the best way to go about things. Smoke was mentioning her friend, who you tinkered with their bike. And I get the distinct impression he wasn't overly happy about it. You have friends, allies, who will do a lot for you. My advice? Let them. Let them bring -their- skills to bear, not your technological advancements. If they ask? Fine, help them. If they don't, don't just assume that just because it's -technically- better, means it's better for them." He drew out his blade. "Take this for example. It's a good weapon. Very good. I'm sure you could do things to it to make it better. But then - it wouldn't be mine anymore. My honor would be gone. Without honor, I have nothing to fight for." He put his sword away. "That is an extreme example, it's true. But most people have one thing they feel deeply invested in, and tinker with that, and they feel you're taking something away from them. I would wager Smoke might feel the same about her arrowgun, or Doctor Newton his medical kit." A shrug. "You are smart, probably the smartest person I've met. And you have a gift. Make sure you combine those two, to do things that are right. Don't just do something because it would look fantastic, or feel cool. Do it because the person you're doing it for? They want that. No-one can do all you do alone, not even you." He then stood up to his full height. "I apologise if I have caused offense."

MONTAGE!

( The theme to The Great Escape plays in the background. )

THE GANG steps out of the TARDIS on board a small military ship flying the Stars and Stripes.  The Osgoods, Boyle and Spiezo follow them out, and Boyle trades salutes with an American officer wearing the shoulder boards of a lieutenant commander.

Alongside the ship is a smallish, sturdy-looking submersible.  It happens to be painted yellow.  On the deck there is a big winch and several smaller craft, colored orange, red, magenta and green.

*** WIPE ***

TRAV pushes herself out from underneath one of the small craft on a rolling cart.  She's wearing a tank top and welding goggles, is smudged with grease, and has a wrench and an arc welder in her hands.

*** WIPE ***

STANLEY is talking to a couple of the USN officers, going over the contents of a large, orange floatable container with a variety of equipment and drugs, going over a refresher on decompression illness.

*** WIPE ***

SMOKE ALARM waves excitedly as the winch lowers her into the ocean, bundled into her pressure suit.  They've found one in her size: it is, unfortunately, not blue, but she has already "customized" it with her paints.

*** WIPE ***

SERETH can be seen looking dubiously into the face shield of his suit and gingerly seeing how it fits onto his non-standard-human shaped head.

*** WIPE ***

TRAV, SMOKE, STANLEY and SERETH (the last in his Samuel Jackson guise, although in white shirtsleeves and slacks) walk along the boardwalk of a Caribbean resort island.  SMOKE is running back and forth to look at things.  TRAV is wearing a crop-top and sarong.  SERETH studies the scene, appearing somewhat bemused at the waste of time.

*** WIPE ***

THE GANG is back in more functional gear, with suits and mini-subs lined up next to them, with the UNIT London group and the crew of UNS Loyal gathered around them.

OOC: Feel free to further explore or expand any of that, then we can prepare to start the expedition.  You can use the ROVER or not; you can materialize the TARDIS "on station" down in the depths to deploy vehicles if you want.

Aaaand that probably becomes a new thread, actually, but we can start that when you're ready to press GO.
This message was last edited by the GM at 02:42, Fri 22 May 2015.

Trav listens keenly.  "You always speak the truth. You see how hard I'm working to ratchet myself back? You are 100% right. I have this urge to -make- and -create-, Sereth, but it can steamroller everyone. No, I'm causing offense. It gives me such joy to make wonderful things but I often make other people feel small with it. I saw it back there, so I'm yanking myself back hard. It's like a cyclone, sometimes, and I can crush people with it. I'm so sorry I do that. I'm like a child, like when Smoke Alarm paints walls. So, thank you for holding me back."

"I told Stanley when he first started travelling with me, I needed his good heart to see for mine? I walk in eternity, Sereth. I don't say that because I want to lord it over you or Smoke Alarm or him. It's because I can feel the galaxies turn and this planet spin and time shift and flow past us. It's hard for me to see small. I'm a Time Lord. Even when I'm playful, I lumber and break things, sometimes. I try my best not too, and sometimes, I'm like an elephant with people's feelings, I'll just charge in. That's still no excuse.So, thank you for being diplomatic, and helping me to see."

Trav looks down at her hands. Even when they wanted to do good, they caused nothing but clumsy grief - the underground railroad, the SDF-1, the Time War, the Hells of Deeval on Rifts Earth and Nuclear Weapons, even here, when all she wanted to do was simply give a nice kid a hot new ride.

The Time Lords, in this case, were right.
This message was last edited by the player at 05:34, Fri 22 May 2015.

Montage!

Smoke Alarm was very impressed by the ship – it was like a tower that floated on the water. But since the ships she was used to flew through space, she called it a "pool-ship". Or "pool-tower", she wasn't quite sure. She jumped and ran all over it, getting lost-and-found and causing a bit of a to-do with the sailors. She decided it was "shape-ship and sound".

The first part of her training was to see how good a swimmer she was. They came to a great pool which Smoke thought was icehot, though it wasn't in the sky. Then she immediately started taking off her clothes, because they didn't need a wash this week. All of her clothes. Right in front of everyone. This caused another to-do for some reason and she was interrupted before she could go all the way. A bikini in her size was found – blue, naturally, and black, two mismatched pieces – though she'd argued she didn't need the top part because she had hardly anything to put in the pouches. She was probably right. Smoke Alarm in swimwear wasn't conventionally alluring: pale, scrawny, and wiry, with blue-dyed body hair and scars. The nasty set of scars on her leg showed where a wild dog had bitten her. Her sister Kangs had stitched it; she'd had no anaesthetic.

Finally in the pool, a cloud of blue floating around her, Smoke's swimming style proved to be a furious dog-paddle. The instructors show-and-telled her other ways of swimming, and the athletically gifted Kang soon picked it up, taking to it like a duck to water. She was soon swimming and diving and propelling herself underwater with as much as grace as she ran and leaped.

After a day's swim practice, Smoke Alarm was horrified to look in a mirror and discover she was a brunette – all her blue and black had washed out! This necessitated an emergency trip for hair dyes to restore the vital Kang fabshion.

The following days saw SCUBA training and underwater survival show-and-tells, which Smoke Alarm eagerly lapped up. She'd really have some pool tricks to show-and-tell the other Kangs when she got back.

Outside of training, she worked with Traveller on the mechinery of the... swim-cars? The ROVER and things. It was sort of like, but entirely not, helping.

Shooed away, she got lost-and-found on the ship, got into a to-do for making a wall-scrawl with fishies in the walls and illustrating their coming underwater voyage, got into another to-do for somehow getting in and out of a no-entry area, and wound up sparring and training with the UNIT soldiers and USN sailors. Her Kang Fu and nimble athletic ability saw her more than hold her own. The Kang was hard to dislike, and she soon earned respect.

During his time working as a doctor Stanley has never had to deal with any decompression cases. Not all hospitals have hyperbaric chambers and he usually works in the epidemiology section, an unrelated department. On top of that, it has been a while since he last read about the matter. This all means that talking to the USN officers and going over the equipment and procedures with them is really informative. Between the necessary swimming and diving practice, he practices and reads as much as he can about the medical issues that can arise when diving. He specifically focuses on the practical things he could do when they are on the other side of the anomaly, nowhere near a hyperbaric chamber.

The TARDIS is indeed down on station, a few miles underwater away from the last reported position of the anomaly. Trav is being very careful to make sure that the 11th dimensional nature of the TARDIS is not disturbing the anomaly. The scene opens with the control room set up as an evacuation triage and command center - any medical equipment that Stanley needs has been brought up, the aquacycles are ready to go, Speizo and the Osgoods have been introduced to Chibi who has been instructed to assist them with the various sensory equipment, and the scutters move to and fro with equipment. A full crafts services table with hot food, coffee and the works that Trav has cooked herself is ready. Trav has also brought up repair and scientific equipment on moveable racks as needed.

Trav, in prep, has modified her turbopistols for underwater use. SHe muses that the last time she ever did this was when she escorted Henry Gloval and his UN party down into the bowels of the wreckage of the SDF-1, right before her 1st regeneration. She also sets up 3 pre-programmed emergency transits for the TARDIS - the Tower of London, 10 miles outside of Dallas, and behind the Moon, for the use of her team or the Osgoods and Speizo, in case they need to get Sweet Boy away from the anomaly, fast. Trav has of course modified the standard UNIT wetsuits so that it will fit Sereth's body comfortably.

Trav herself has enabled a linkup to UNIT command at London, repeating to Dallas. "Greyhound, this is Trillby, also repeating to Longhorn. We're ready to commence the operation on your go. Taking initially telemetry on the anomaly and forwarding." This is as she's taking passive readings on the anomaly.

Trav is rather oblivious to how rather casually hot she looks in her skintight UNIT wetsuit, her hair in ponytails, pistols at her hips, looking determined as she taps keys and reads from the console.

OOC: Ingenuity+Science+Research Capsule?

As Smoke Alarm wanders into the control room, studying the blue Loyal ball cap that one of the ship's petty officers had given her as a prezzie, Trav is getting a fix on the anomaly, with the assistance of the scientific crew from UNIT.

(At some point over the last week, it has come out that only one of the Osgoods is a human, the other being a Zygon who imprinted on her body pattern during a -- poorly explained -- conflict between UNIT and a Zygon invasion contingent.  The duplicate Osgood seems to have picked up a particularly strong psychic imprint from her primary, and following the cessation of hostilities, volunteered to stay on Earth under UNIT supervision as a cultural liaison.  By this point, hardly anyone from UNIT can tell the difference between the two without scanning equipment, but it seems not to be an issue.)

Readings on the anomaly show that it is projected to reach a locally stable diameter of 21 meters.  The transition conduit has a length of 312 meters: within this conduit, attempting to physically penetrate the interface area -- the "walls" of the "tunnel" -- is likely to lead to rapid stability complications.  The TARDIS sensors are reading a negative flow through the channel, carrying water, flotsam and small life forms from the far side into the Earthside ocean: the implication is that the far side of the rift is at a greater pressure and therefore depth.

Boyle's voice comes over the comm link.  "We have a monitor rota in place here and in Dallas, and we've given our regular stable of scientific consultants a standby notice, in case you need some specialized knowledge they can provide.  We are go for start, Trillby."

"Longhorn is go for start," comes the answer from Captain Luisa Ramirez, the operation office in Dallas.

OOC: Not sure what you wanted from the roll, so if there's something obvious I haven't reported above let me know.

What's the actual scheme now?   Is the TARDIS being used to affect the rift at all?  In all likelihood that would become an Ingenuity + Technology + Research Capsule.

With the cap on her head over her blue hair, Smoke Alarm crouched in front of a roundel which she'd prised open. She outlooked over her shoulder at Traveller and all the visitors loitering about, then back into the hole. 'Lots of visitors today.' she whispered to the three twitchy Us inside, who were trying to outlook around Smoke Alarm. 'Us will have to 'ware them and loiter in hide-ins. And if water leaks in the talkiphone box, outgo to upper floors. Be sound and safe. Build high for happiness.' The Us squeaked out the farewell and repeated the building gesture with their paws. 'I'll bring you back some she-sells.' With another furtive outlook back, Smoke Alarm refitted the roundel and scampered away.

She was encased in a squeaky black wetsuit, which somehow gave Smoke Alarm curves she didn't otherwise have. She'd scrawled it and the air-tanks with blue spraypaint to personalise it, but thoughtfully added some splashes of white to be more easily eyespyable under the pool. She had her arrowgun and grappler on a belt; one advantage was that they worked underwater with no adjustments needed. They were not as fast or as strong underwater, but Smoke Alarm had been doing some target practice in the pools as well.

She footed up to one of the Osgoods, whom she not had much of a chance to be talky with yet. 'How you do?' she greeted brightly. She didn't perform the how-you-do, of course, which was more of a formal greeting. 'Is all ready-steady to go under the great pool in the ground?'
This message was last edited by the player at 06:08, Sun 24 May 2015.

OOC: Nope, that's about what Trav was expecting. She doesn't want the TARDIS to disrupt the anomaly and is presuming the UNIT operation is to manually send a team in and disrupt the channel as little as possible. A roll is to try to figure out what might be on the other side, stability of the channel, and how much time they have. Presumably, Sweet Boy's sensor palette is better than anything UNIT has, and I presume that the Osgoods and Peizo are staying back here. Trav is also trying to do some back of the napkin math to predict the effect of 4 people on aquacycles on the rift, and then double that weight on the way back.

Trav creates a 3D image of this data. "Thank you, Chibi." If Kate Stewart was cool with a Zygon on her staff, then Trav was, although she found it kind of funny that a Zygon was cosplaying one of her older selves, since she has been imitated by Zygons in both incarnations, to varying degrees of hilarity (Al Capone drilled a room full of 1st Traveller Zygons with his Tommy Gun, Abe Lincoln got one roaring drunk and made it lose its stolen form.) "Just running some final numbers before we begin. Yeah, Smoke, the place is practically as full as a shopping mall during a Tiffany show. Sereth, Stan, look alive, this isn't an episode of SeaQuest DSV and I'm not Roy Schneider."

"Beginning full scanning rotation. Osgoods, Peizo, repeating to your tablets.  Everything from my sonic and Ipad will go back to Sweet Boy's main console which will then be repeated back to Greyhound and Longhorn. However, if this is indeed beyond the void and into another dimension, as opposed to inside of some spatial pocket, then we may be cut off. Until then, well transmit across my special network for as long as we can. Captain Ramirez, pleased to be working with you. Tell the boys and girls Travelina gives her love and will bring Josh home and to have pitchers of sangria ready." She uses the old nick name which embarrassed her so badly back in the 70s back when she had her big adventure with the dinosaur rodeo and when the Daleks assaulted the Alamo.

OOC:00:35, Today: The Traveller rolled 24 using 2d6+16 with rolls of 4,4. Trav scans the anomaly - Ingenuity 8+Science 6+Research Capsule 2.

Trav looks back at the team. "I think using Sweet Boy to mess with this rift at all would be a bad idea, except maybe to stabilize it and get us more time. Osgoods, Peizo, your opinion? I want to take as light a touch as possible."
This message was last edited by the player at 05:04, Sun 24 May 2015.

Osgood smiles.  "Everything looks to be good... though only the Traveller knows for sure.  I just hope, since you are all going through the rift with her, that we're able to take care of any problems that come up."

She looks at Smoke Alarm curiously.  "I never did get a good chance to ask you about Kangs.  You're just a sort of human subculture, right?  How does one get to be a Kang?  And why are you named after a fire safety device?"



"I had a thought," Spiezo says.  "I definitely agree that tampering with the rift as little as possible should be the safest way to go.  What about a contingency plan?"  He indicates Chibi-Trav.  "Your AI is very helpful, but if it looks like the connection is going to go, and you and the others are on the wrong side of it, it could be better to attempt something desperate than just let it happen."

"Only," one of the Osgoods adds, "I'm pretty sure that we don't have a fraction of the background with the TARDIS systems and capabilities to know what would be safe to improvise.  I've read the UNIT events of situations like the Kronos Manifestation, which note such cheerful notions as 'the denaturing of interstitial time' and that is above our pay grade.  If you could lay out a couple of emergency scenarios and procedures, we'd feel a lot better about back-stopping you here...."

Trav realizes that the Osgoods are right about that -- applying too much relative dimensional pressure to the rift could cause a cascading breakdown in the fabric of local 4-space.  With the new information she has been able to collect, this close to the rift, it does seem likely that the conduit is a passage into an adjacent universe, and that means that a breakdown could have repercussions for two worlds.

But too conservative a play could be almost as bad, if it ended up isolating her and her friends on the far side of the rift with little in the way of tools to do anything about it.

Trav, having been exiled in an alternate dimension for over a century, knows this all too well. "OK, this is the play, then. I'm setting up Sweet Boy here to act as a dimensional anchor to keep that Rift open and act as a baffle - as the rift cycles, Sweet Boy will expand and contract the local 4-space so that the corridor and the gateway remain stable, sort of how a respirator works. If there's a catastrophic collapse, Sweet Boy will follow us in, with a 3 minute warning - you guys can either get out in scuba gear and head up to the US Navy Vessel waiting on station up above, of stay board and follow us in. I'm sorry, but Sweet Boy is the best chance for their being a plug to any disastrous leak to this universe, and our best shot of getting home - this ship has traveled other universes before. You may want to monitor from the Loyal instead. Your thoughts?" Trav's expertise from Rifts Earth and M-Space is now coming into play, where she dealt with scenarios like this constantly working with the Atlanteans and against the Coalition and the Splugorth.

Trav is all seriousness now, as she's already working at the block transfer calculations at the TARDIS console. This was possible an unstable charged vacuum emboitment, and she had to carefully balance power to equalize pressure between universes, long enough to keep open a stable gateway to get Rayburn and his team home. Even worse, the rift was naturally sealing on it's own, like what happened with rifts naturally on Rifts Earth. This was normally a good thing. If it was kept open too long, bad things could happen. She had to balance the safety of N-Space against rescuing the UNIT team.
This message was last edited by the player at 04:18, Mon 25 May 2015.

Smoke Alarm outlooked all confused at the Osgood. Human subculture? 'Because it's my name. Why are you named after an Osgood?' she answered a question with a question, rather cleverly, she thought. 'You don't get to be a Kang. You just... be a Kang. But to be a Blue Kang or a Red Kang or a Yellow Kang, there's the Games and the Knowhow and the Picking.' she counted off on her fingers, remembering she'd been through to join the Blues. The Picking had been hardest. 'Then you get a colour, blue or red or yellow. Then there's a fancy How-You-Do. Then you're a Blue Kang or a Red Kang or a Yellow Kang... But there's no yellows, they're all unalive now.' she noted sadly.

"Oh, well, that's simple enough.  My parents were Osgoods.  But then there are other ways for people who aren't Osgoods to become Osgoods."  Osgood points at the other Osgood.  "She decided she wanted to be an Osgood.  Even though she wasn't actually a human person to start with.  She didn't have the best reasons for doing it to start with, but we've worked that out.  And it turned out she liked being an Osgood.  It's terribly flattering, I have to tell you."


"So because there aren't any Yellows, there can't be any more Yellows now?  Is that how that works?  Or could there be a Picking where someone turned up to be a Yellow anyway?"

"Well, the Loyal is kitted out pretty well, but its equipment can't tell us half of what your ship can.  The telemetry link is up and running, but links do go down."  The UNIT team trade looks among themselves.  "As long as you don't mind us being here, I think we'd rather monitor your progress from the TARDIS."

'Oh.' Smoke Alarm said, outlooking at the other Osgood, wondering how exactly one became an Osgood. 'Fardreen became a Kang. Traveller wants to be a Kang.'

She thought about the Yellow issue. 'Well, mayhaps, but there's no Yellows to Pick new Yellows. So there can't be new Yellows. And also we need another colour to be Picked with the Yellows. Mayhaps Pink. This Way Up, Pink Kang the Last from Tower 3, could Pick new Pink Kangs... It was a big to-do between the Kangs before I was taken away...' The question of whether to re-found the Yellows or not was a controversy that had rocked Kang society before she'd left Paradise Towers.

The elegant circles of Gallifreyan script float in 3D. The Us chatter excitedly - they remember the Demon Times with the Shedraya, the horrid time demons that infested the TARDIS at one point and were held at bay by their own sacred places deep inside the TARDIS. They may be world travelling again. The Transversal Power System console comes to life, engaging in checkouts not activated since the war against the Time Demons when Trav was in R-Space.  "So noted. Just so long as you guys understand how horribly dangerous this is. If things go south, Sweet Boy here may be your home for a very, very long time. Sereth, Smoke, Stanley, that goes for you guys too. This is entirely volunteer, even moreso than our usual shenanigans. You may never see your mom, your Emperor, or any another Blue Kang, ever again." She dramatically throws down a  lever for emphasis, KA-CHUNK, as error-correction starts to commence. The Transversal console starts to interact with the main flight panel, as the TARDIS compiles the several programs that Trav has just written.

"Allright. I'm compiling the stabilization sequence now. My TARDIS is going to very carefully integrate elements of it's block-transfer field into the anomaly, and act as, for lack of a better term, a respirator. Once it's set, we're going to be at the long end of the stable tunnel. The TARDIS will make the tunnel more stable and lengthen the time it should remain manifest, as well as lengthen the time window by feeding the anomaly power. But it won't be indefinite, and we will be working against the clock. Once I throw down this lever, the clock will start to tick. When the bar on the screen reaches the red zone, the equations will safely collapse the tunnel and the TARDIS *will* safely follow us through. You'll be given hour, half hour, 15, 10, 5 and 3 minute evac warnings. Once I start it, only I will be able to stop it, of, if I'm knocked, out, a member of the rescue team being present on board the TARDIS will stop the countdown, hitting this lever. Understood?"

Trav looks around. "Everyone ask your questions, make your decisions, get suited up. I start this show in 10 minutes."

OOC - I'm gonna drop a story point and make a 2d6+Ingenuity+Technology+Research Capsule+SP roll, and I'm lobbying for an additional +2 for Transversal Power System, because Trav has dealt with crap like this a few times back in actual Rifts game play in other campaigns. I'd like to make my roll now and get an estimate of how much time we have to make our rescue attempt, from Trav's initial calculations.
This message was last edited by the player at 21:05, Thu 28 May 2015.

Smoke Alarm eyespied the lever carefully, but was alarmed by Traveller's warning, eyes going wide in dismay. Trav's speech was hardly inspirational. 'Wait. "Ever?" Forever ever? Never ever?' Suddenly tootling under the pool on pool-bikes didn't seem so icehot. Smoke Alarm had been happy to fly in the talkiphone box when she had the promise of going home-sweet-home back with her sisters, but never ever was a long time, the longest. Never ever going back seemed a lot like being unalive, without even the Great Pool in the Sky to outlook forward to. Just this great pool in the ground.

As Trav works her calculations, she says gravely, "This isn't all games and fun, Smoke Alarm. It's also big risk, to protect people. That's what I do. If it's too much, it's not unbrave to say no. But those are good friends of mine down there, and I need to get them home. They have friends and families who need them. They'd do the same for me. That's the promise I made when I took the name of The Traveller. That's what the Doctor reminded me when he sent me away to safety, at the end of the War. So, I need to keep the promise I made to him. No one else here did, so it's OK if you if you don't want to. You've more than proven your braveness and boldness." She smiles at the blue Kang as she looks up from her panel, the green light shining up into her features.

09:35, Today: The Traveller rolled 27 using 4d6+18 with rolls of 4,1,2,2. 2d6+Ingenuity+Science+Research Capsule+Transversal Power System+2d6 - Stabilize conduit/rescue time.
This message was last edited by the player at 13:36, Tue 26 May 2015.

Smoke Alarm thought of the horrible brain-thing that had nearly gobbled her up, because she'd loitered to outlook too long. It seemed the price, mayhaps, for being curious as a mouse, for being brave and bold. She shuffled, unwilling to admit that the risk made her feel so very unbrave and unbold. 'I'm brave and bold as a Kang could be!' she retorted hotly, show-and-telling more to the brain-thing and the dark not-knowing. The strain was clear on her small face, so desperately unable to choose whether to loiter in the brainquarters or outgo, to choose old friends or new. Never ever. 'Home-sweet-home to sisters and brothers and friends and families? I'm outgoing with you, Traveller. Coz if I let a friend outgo alone through some hazardous carrydoor, I wouldn't be a Kang no more.' she declared, serious and certain.

'More, I will make safe-and-sure we all comeout and track back too.'


OOC: I decided to roll. Beats a 12, so away I go.
23:11, Today: Smoke Alarm rolled 13 using 2d6+8 with rolls of 3,2. ingenuity(3) + resolve(3) + brave(2).
This message was last edited by the player at 15:56, Tue 26 May 2015.

Trav beams brightly. "Someone said that a person could be measured by the quality of their enemies, but I say that they're measured more by the quality of their friends. BLUE KANGS ARE BEST! BLUE KANGS ARE BEST!"
This message was last edited by the player at 17:57, Tue 26 May 2015.

In reply to The Traveller (msg # 75):

Stanley has already made his decision and he doesn't have any questions, so he suits up and prepares himself for the upcoming mission. To be honest, Stanley has a lot of questions about the anomaly and what Trav is using the Tardis for, but he leaves all that for the professionals. He checks his diving gear again, as he was taught during training.

"Everything is working...I am ready." He says to Trav.

Trav looks at Stanley, and notices herself looking at him in a way that she never, ever look at him before, in the few years they traveled together.

She kisses him on the cheek, tippy toeing up.

"I'm sorry," she says, blushing a little, "For not taking you as seriously as perhaps I should have, Doctor Stanley Newton. You are an immensely brave man, running as you have with me. I have to reconsider a few things, now. Also, you don't look have bad, in a wetsuit."

"Now, let's get going, hero." She wheels an aquacycle towards the TARDIS door, smiling at him in a way she never quite has before.

She aims her sonic at the TARDIS central column. It starts to move, and breathe, like a gigantic set of lungs, ancient and mighty.

Spiezo and Osgood and Osgood all watch their consoles as the TARDIS peels away layers of its plasmic shell, transmuting a fraction of the outward form of the blue police box into essential Number and Structure.  That Structure extrudes smoothly toward the dimensional conduit, weaving itself into the pattern of energy currently bridging Earth's dimension to another.  It makes no attempt to alter or expand that pattern: it builds along and through it.  The engines of the TARDIS speak and tells the natural equilibria of the universe that would tend to crush the aperture down to a singularity No, there are forces in the universe that can stand against entropy, at least for a while.  And you ain't going nowhere.

Then, the transversal power system engages, for the first time since the TARDIS first launched Trav back out of R-Space into the post-Time War continuum.  And the sound is like the roar of a power chord straight out of Valhalla.

"Look," Spiezo says.  "Perfect phase inversion."  When Trav checks the display that he's indicating, she sees the result that she'd been hoping for: the projections show that the stability curve has normalized to be uniform along the full period of the anomaly's cycle.  Barring any new crisis, the conduit will hold until the full cycle is up.  The clock is running at 173 hours, seven minutes, forty-seven seconds.

Forty-six.

Forty-five.

Forty-four.

....

'Blue Kangs, Blue Kangs, Blue Kangs are best!' Smoke Alarm cheered the sing-song, the proper way. She checked her wetsuit: straps, air conditioners, breath pipes. All sound and safe. She was uncomfortably reminded of the gestures for farewelling the unalive, themselves the echo of a spacesuit check routine. She hoped it wouldn't comeout the same.

Smoke had put Puddy and her other not-for-getting-wet things in a sound-and-safe place in the talkiphone box. She checked her arrowgun and grappler were hitched righty-tighty to her belt. Shape-ship and sound.

She climbed on a pool bike, ready-steady but she would still be the last out.

Sereth waited.

And waited.

He was patient as a rock.

He spoke quietly.

"Forward, Smoke. I have your back."

He hadn't even thought to not go forth. He didn't switch from fun and games to serious - he was always serious.

Trav allows herself a small smirk. Her one small unique contribution to her people's corpus of scientific knowledge was practical dimensional travel. If she knew anything better than the Doctor, the Master or the Rani, it was Rifts. Other dimensions and universes were foreign to them, they were familiar to her.

"Ok, we're on the clock. Let's move."

Trav gives snugs to the Osgoods and to Speizo, to her team, pulls down her mask, and then head to the TARDIS door. Water shimmers vertically at the door. The pushes the aquacycle in, and with a smooth insertion, the aquacycle skims into the blue depths, heading towards the strange light of the anomaly as she leads her companions in.
This message was last edited by the player at 04:10, Wed 27 May 2015.

Smoke Alarm outlooked back at Sereth, realising she wouldn't be last one outgoing after all. She nodded, then motored her pool-bike forward, with a bit of a stop-start, stop-start approach as she tried to get the hang of it. She approached the wall of water, fairly sure water shouldn't stand up like that, and nudged her way in like someone carefully stepping into a pool. Then she disappeared, into the blue.

"I wouldn't call myself a hero..." Stanley mutters, unsure how to react to Trav's praise. He moves his aquacycle close to the door, takes a deep breath and moves into the wall of water.

When the travellers have left the TARDIS and the doors shut behind them, Spiezo trades a look with the Osgoods, as their watch begins.

The UNIT soldier shrugs.  "Heroes never do," he observes.