The concern was still there, just a little, but a smile broke through all the same, jotting down another quick note: That just means the calibrations were wrong. Lucky for you: Chief engineer.
The notepad was traded for the trigger, and her brow creased a little as she double-checked the settings before offering him a hand, smile emerging once more, one brow lifting in something that was almost a challenge.
Changing places in the time stream was never comfortable, like being compressed and in free fall at the same time, moving too fast for the vertigo to really set in until things stopped. Which was why, even despite the cheer that went up from the small crowd waiting in the courtyard, Star staggered off to go vomit quietly in one of the scrawny shrubs lining the area.
John remembers this feeling, though it's a bit of an improvement with his clothes still on. Appearing in the future naked and disoriented is not his favorite thing. Neither, for the record, is the way his stomach and head spin independently of one another when Star lets go of his hand and he can't even manage three steps in her direction before he's forced to his knees by vertigo.
Someone hands him water after a moment and he's glad for the moment he can stand up and drink.
"Hey," he says to the small group. He doesn't know these people but they know him, so none of them seem terribly put off by the fact that he's not terribly talkative beyond learning names and what people are good at.
Star let the introductions and hand-shaking go on for a few minutes, long
enough for her to get a drink of water at well and will her own balance
back to where it should be before she slipped in, catching John's elbow and
shooing the crowd off so she could lead him away to her workstation.
Communication there was easier, partly because of her typing speed and
partly because the keyboard she used was cobbled together and had a suite
of keys that were whole words to go along with the standard letters.
How are you? Still woozy? Want to dive right in or
take a breather and get a room assignment first? She was already
skimming through progress reports, she knew she'd actually only been gone a
half hour, but she wanted to make sure there hadn't been a miscalculation
and she'd actually been gone for the six months she'd been in the past. So
far everything seemed to be in order, and that was enough to put her at
ease.
"I don't really care about the room, diving in is good." A place to sleep was a place to sleep. Sharing it would probably be weird, but he could handle it. This, all of this, took precedence.
Besides he knows if he takes too much downtime right away, gives himself the room to think? John's mind will end up nowhere good, and he doesn't even know if they have alcohol here. Asking seems like a gesture in poor taste.
Instead of asking potentially bad questions he takes in the tech around them, the pieces cobbled together and crafted into something new. He can appreciate it more in person than on paper. "You've done a damned good job here."
Her smile was relieved, and a little proud, as well as being more than a little surprised at that statement, and the reply was: Thanks, we do our best. Everybody pitches in.
She pulled up a couple of short video clips, along with a written report: This is everything we have on the attack. It was one of our border patrols, south of here, and east, inland. Which everyone had thought was strange in and of itself, but she wasn't going to mention that part just yet, not unless he did first.
The machines all look like older models, but the killswitch frequency doesn't do anything more than slow them down a little. You can see when our guys turn on the screamers. She paused then, realizing that he probably didn't know what they were and even though she figured that he'd be able to guess given the context, she still added: The sound generators, I can show you one if you want to see it up close.
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No worries, it happens
The notepad was traded for the trigger, and her brow creased a little as she double-checked the settings before offering him a hand, smile emerging once more, one brow lifting in something that was almost a challenge.
Changing places in the time stream was never comfortable, like being compressed and in free fall at the same time, moving too fast for the vertigo to really set in until things stopped. Which was why, even despite the cheer that went up from the small crowd waiting in the courtyard, Star staggered off to go vomit quietly in one of the scrawny shrubs lining the area.
no subject
Someone hands him water after a moment and he's glad for the moment he can stand up and drink.
"Hey," he says to the small group. He doesn't know these people but they know him, so none of them seem terribly put off by the fact that he's not terribly talkative beyond learning names and what people are good at.
no subject
Star let the introductions and hand-shaking go on for a few minutes, long enough for her to get a drink of water at well and will her own balance back to where it should be before she slipped in, catching John's elbow and shooing the crowd off so she could lead him away to her workstation.
Communication there was easier, partly because of her typing speed and partly because the keyboard she used was cobbled together and had a suite of keys that were whole words to go along with the standard letters.
How are you? Still woozy? Want to dive right in or take a breather and get a room assignment first? She was already skimming through progress reports, she knew she'd actually only been gone a half hour, but she wanted to make sure there hadn't been a miscalculation and she'd actually been gone for the six months she'd been in the past. So far everything seemed to be in order, and that was enough to put her at ease.
no subject
Besides he knows if he takes too much downtime right away, gives himself the room to think? John's mind will end up nowhere good, and he doesn't even know if they have alcohol here. Asking seems like a gesture in poor taste.
Instead of asking potentially bad questions he takes in the tech around them, the pieces cobbled together and crafted into something new. He can appreciate it more in person than on paper. "You've done a damned good job here."
no subject
She pulled up a couple of short video clips, along with a written report: This is everything we have on the attack. It was one of our border patrols, south of here, and east, inland. Which everyone had thought was strange in and of itself, but she wasn't going to mention that part just yet, not unless he did first.
The machines all look like older models, but the killswitch frequency doesn't do anything more than slow them down a little. You can see when our guys turn on the screamers. She paused then, realizing that he probably didn't know what they were and even though she figured that he'd be able to guess given the context, she still added: The sound generators, I can show you one if you want to see it up close.