Desert Sands, Part 1

Date: 11/06/2001
From: ThomasMalthus

Through his binoculars, General Robin Arkham could see the Union Jack flying over San Francisco. From his position, the flag seemed to be waving towards the bay, pointing straight at the sun setting over San Francisco Bay. In several ways, looking at the sight in front of him showed how well things had turned out. The smoke had cleared enough for him to be able to see it (firefighting during battle was an impossible burden to bear) and, most of all, that his army had taken the city. The Pearl of the Desert. However, there was a definite downside to it as well.

"Fleet from Sitka still not here?" his adjutant, Major Donald Lloyd Henries, asked with some degree of cynicism in his voice.

"I'm afraid not," Arkham responded solemnly. "It appears the Japanese Fleet have not yet arrived in this part of the Pacific."

Henries shrugged casually. "More of the spoils for us then."

The General poured himself another shot of whiskey. "I wish it were only that simple. The Japanese will still want their fair share for keeping the Russkis occupied in Alaska and... there is still the pesky matter of winning the war, rather than the battle."

"Piece of cake, sir," Henries threw in, trying to cheer up his superior officer. General Arkham gave him a look that showed it wasn't working. "Alright, piece of frustrating, long, guerrilla desert warfare..." As he trailed off, the highest ranking officer of the Anglo-Canadian Expeditionary Force moved to an old chest that lie near his cot. The tent was relatively simple (he could have asked for more elaborate quarters, but decided it would have been bad for morale) and not very large for a general of his stature. Most of his subordinates had better quarters than this, Henries included. Arkham opened the chest and withdrew a medal.

He smiled wryly and showed the pin to Major Henries. "Transvaal, eight years ago. Now there was a campaign. No political considerations, no having to wait for allies to show up..." He stopped, thankfully, as Henries had heard Arkham describe the war in South Africa numerous times before and it didn't bear repeating another time. "Say, do you hear something outside?" Before Henries could answer, several heavyset men entered the tent. Moving swiftly, one of them knocked out General Arkham before he could so much as register a protest. Henries was quicker, drawing his pistol as fast as he could, but still not fast enough to do any good against the small man who stood beside his larger counterpart (who was now getting ready to carry the General off). A quick shot to the gut made the adjutant collapse into a ball on the ground.

"My apologies, amigo," he sneered as he walked out the door. His own commander would be very pleased that Robin Arkham was captured. Which meant he would be very pleased as well.

***
The vortex that opened unsettled the dust that seemed to cover everything in the dark room the sliders soon found themselves in. Some rats scurried off to find a quieter place to dwell as Wade crash landed near a particularly heavy crate.

"Ow!" she complained, rubbing her sore shoulder incessantly. The pain almost made her forget to move out of the way of Rembrandt, who she remembered was right behind her. Not a moment too soon she rolled towards the door while the Cryin' Man came out from behind her. He was adorned in a gold sequined outfit that shone poorly in the dark room they slid into. Quinn and the Professor followed not far behind. They both stood guard at the mouth of the vortex, as if waiting for someone else to come out. They breathed a sigh of relief when the wormhole closed as normal.

"I have to say that was one of the more harrowing experiences of my life," the Professor grumbled. "And one I would rather not repeat."

"I hear that," Rembrandt echoed, dusting himself off as he rose from the floor.

"You're the one who got us into it!" Wade reminded him emphatically.

"I was just trying to make us a few bucks doin' a gig or two. How was I supposed to know my double had so many paternity suits against him?" Remmy asked rhetorically.

"Maybe we'd all better be a little more careful when it comes to getting involved with the locals," Quinn said, anxious to avoid any bickering.

"An excellent caveat, Mr. Mallory," Professor Arturo added. "One that I believe we should immediately employ on this world by laying low..."

"Wait," Wade interrupted. "What's that sound?" As she spoke the last word, they heard a massive explosion come from behind them. They all hit the floor instinctively.

"Not another warzone," Rembrandt groused. "We can't go five worlds without..."

"Now's not the time, Remmy," Quinn told his friend sharply. "We've got to find a way to get out of here." He moved to the door, keeping his back to the wall at all times and managed to peer out into the open. "Nothing hostile out there I can see. Maybe they're just doing demolition work." A moment later, another explosion made the wall opposite where Quinn stood collapse. Professor Arturo managed to get Rembrandt and Wade out of the way before anyone was hurt.

"Seems kinda doubtful," Wade remarked.

"We really need to get out of here," Quinn instructed them, staying behind to make sure all three of them got out, then following a moment later. Rubble filled the streets and there was a twinge of smoke in the air. It was not a pretty place to be.

"What now?" Rembrandt asked.

"We get them safe," Quinn spoke into his friend's ear as the other two walked a few feet in front of them, "and then we find all of us a way out of this place."

Rembrandt fought the urge to protest and nodded stoically. "You think there's even a place here that'll pass for safe..." Just as he spoke, they came upon an empty trench, fortified with a cement and steel covering that was bolted into the ground.

"If this is so secure, how come there's nobody hiding out here?" Wade asked earnestly.

Quinn picked a small object off the ground. "Gas cannister." He then looked inside the trench. "No bodies. So either they made it to more breathable air without casualties or this place has been cleaned out since the attack. For our purposes, it doesn't matter." He walked over to the Professor. "You and Wade should get inside. Remmy and I will try to get help."

The Professor seemed indignant. "Are you sure that's wise, Mr. Mallory? I think Miss Welles and I are perfectly capable of taking care of..."

Quinn interrupted him by handing him the timer. "Take it, and make sure it doesn't get damaged. We'll be back for you before you can even miss us. If we don't make it back, you know the drill." He then walked off without another word, Rembrandt following in his careful footsteps.

***
"Do you know where you're going?" Rembrandt asked him after a few moments of silence had passed between them.

"Not really," Quinn answered honestly, trying to keep a good lookout in regards to their surroundings.

"I would call you crazy, but then I'd be crazier cause I'm the one following you," Remmy chuckled. He then got serious. "What's goin' on with you, QBall?"

"I don't know what you mean," Quinn answered him curtly.

"I think you do," Rembrandt responded knowingly. "You've been shouldering a lot of the burden lately. Becoming a real A-type leader."

"So?" Quinn asked.

"So...that's not like you," Rembrandt told him as he grabbed his arm and stopped him. "You're gettin' us all worried, man."

Quinn started to get defensive. "Somebody needs to be in charge. I may not be as smart as the Professor, or as good at fighting as Wade or as experienced as you are, but I've got a little bit of all three and that's the sort of qualities a good leader needs."

Rembrandt got a distant look in his eyes. "We did just fine without you!" he exclaimed hoarsely. Before Quinn could respond, Rembrandt groaned and folded to the ground, holding his head and swaying back and forth slowly. Quinn fixed his attention on Rembrandt, so much so that he completely ignored the soldiers inching up from behind him.

***
"The impudence!" Professor Arturo exclaimed pacing back and forth (as well as he could) across the trench.

"I know," Wade replied nonchalantly.

"I'm at least twenty...fifteen years his senior and he orders me around!" he fumed.

"I know," Wade once again answered, getting a little exasperated.

"I'm a grown man, I don't need to be coddled like a child," he said, turning to face Wade.

"So now you know what that feels like, too, huh?" Wade asked him, a smirk on her face.

"Touche," the Professor said, after reflecting on her comment a moment.

Wade shrugged off the poignancy of his comment and put a sweeter smile on her face. "Quinn's been protective over the last few weeks. He's just going through a phase, I think. He's never had a team to work with before and he hasn't had much time to adjust. Let's just give him a little..."

The Professor heard something above them and motioned for Wade to remain quiet and to crouch low enough so they couldn't be seen. Boots marched in succession over their bunker. "Alright, mates," a distinctively British voice called out. "Let's make sure this city doesn't have any pockets of resistance left in 'er, eh?"

ThomasMalthus

Good show!

Date: 11/06/2001
From: DieselMickeyDolenz

beginning text beginning text beginning text beginning text

Ah, now this is the way to start out the a week, or at least the middle of the week. Remmy's finally starting to remember, Arturo's got some stuffy Brittish stuff to deal with, and Quinn's surrounded. :) Can't wait for the next seg.

DMD

I'm also inspired

Date: 11/07/2001
From: Recall317

Jell-o. So good, it's hyphenated.

I'm starting to like this beginning text thing!

Anyway, on to the story. There are many a loose thread dangling as we enter this adventure. Which will we catch? Promising start. Not sure why the group split up. Seemed no reason for it...or is there?

R317

Good start, TM

Date: 11/07/2001
From: SweetOne

Dog, hey dog, did you see the size of that chicken?

Patiently awaiting the next seg. So why did they split? Just because Quinn said so?

SweetOne

Original URL http://bboard.scifi.com/bboard/browse.cgi/1/5/545/26954
Nominated by DMD