Welcome to Planet Zi, Openish

April 14, 2008
Over the Caribbean

Jon was really excited about this trip. Normally, he would never be able to go on spring break. His family just couldn’t afford it. But then the school had decided to take a stand against the wild, crazy spring breaks that had become an integral part of young culture. They were offering to pay for the plane flights to and hotel rooms in Puerto Rico for any students that would consent to be chaperoned during spring break. Needless to say, pretty much the whole school agreed. Now, after a quick layover in Orlando, Jon was sitting on a plane with his friends and classmates, heading for sun and fun at a Caribbean resort. Jon stared out his window at a clear blue sky. Actually, the sky was clear; any illusion of blueness came from the scattering of the shorter wavelengths of visible light by gas molecules in the atmosphere. Jon didn’t know this. To him, science class was just something he had to pass to stay on the field. “Attention passangers,” the pilots voice crackled over the intercom, “We are now passing though the fabled Bermuda Triangle.” Like it had been waiting for its que, a storm took that moment to roll in. Jon began to grow worried; lightning could be seen crackling all about. Then, in a blinding flash, an errant bolt struck the plane. When the passengers eyes cleared, Jon’s seat was empty.

Five Years After the Dark Kaiser Incident
Triangle Daras

Jon regained consciousness slowly. Then, with a jolt, sat bolt upright when he realized that he was no longer on the plane. Instead it appeared the he was on a beach somewhere. Did the plane crash? There wasn’t any wreckage. Where was everyone? Levering himself to his feet, he began to stumble down the beach. “Hello?” he called “Can anyone hear me?” Finally he slumped to the sand in exhaustion. “Where am I?” he whimpered to himself.

"Wellll, you get up every morning from your alarm clock's warning; take the eight-fifteen into the city! There's a whistle up above and people pushing, people shoving; and the girls who try to look pretty!" Dirk was wandering down wearing nothing but an orange pair of swim trunks, singing to himself and tossing shells into the ocean. He was on an actual vacation for once and had decided to travel somewhere away from 'civilization'. Not that he had many problems with time off in the first place, he only really worked one day a week at most. It was just the fact that his last haul had been enough to see him over for half a year in fine style. Or he could go on a month long vacation and use the money to pay for the construction of a real house to live in... No choice, really.

"And if your train's on time..." He never really knew how boring a vacation could be, though... There was nothing for him to do and it was driving him completely insane. I mean sure, the tropics were fun for awhile but after the first week it became monotonous. So here he was, half a week left with no actual money to his name anymore bored out of his skull. He had a hotel room for the next four days, meals, and a ticket back home. He couldn't even trade his ticket because of the holiday season, and he couldn't do any work here because there would be no way to transport the merchandise and none of the fences knew him.

Catching movement down the beach, he perked up. Maybe there'd actually be something interesting today after all. As the young man stumbled down the beach away from him yelling, he chuckled to himself. It wasn't surprising that nobody else heard him. He was on a deserted beach halfway around the island from the only real city. Finally reaching the guy he smiled and said. "Lying in the sand is where you are. Any other questions?"

“Oh thank god!” Jon exclaimed, jumping up off the beach. “Were you on the plane too? You don’t look familiar? Do you go to Madeira? Of course you do, we all do. Where’s the plane? Did it crash? How did we get to this beach? Are there any others?” Jon looked around franticly, hoping for any sign of his fellow classmates. When they failed to appear he became quite depressed. Once more sinking into the sand he looked out over the water. “They’re all gone aren’t they, we’re the only survivors, there aren’t even any bits and pieces of the plane left. Oh no! My parents will be worried sick about me.” He began digging through his pockets, his search becoming more frantic as he was unable to find what he was looking for. “My cell! Where did my cell phone go, I know I had it in my pocket when we boarded the plane.” He turned the other kid, “Dude, can I borrow your cell phone, my ‘rents will be worried sick. Where are we anyways? Do you think you can get service out here? Oh man, oh man, oh man, this is not happening to me.” Not even waiting for a reply, he pushed off once again down the beach. “Come on, there have got to be people, aren’t all these islands like private resorts or something? If we can find some people they can take us home. Maybe our classmates will even be with them.” With that hope driving him on, he once again set off in hope of finding a link to civilization.

Dirk blinked at the young man's sudden jumps between motion and stillness. He considered trying to get a word in, but decided against it because it wasn't likely that the guy would hear him right now. Instead, he followed him down the beach whistling and waiting for his companion to pause for breath. Seeing a chance, he stepped into the one sided conversation.

"Now, I think I'm not too sure on a few things but lets go. First off, what is a plane and what in the world is a Madeira? An evolution of a Merda I haven't heard about?" He shook his head slowly. "I've been walking this beach for the last few hours and I haven't seen any sign of a crash or anyone else. Not even wreckage from one of the sea battles. As for survivors..." he scratched his head uncertainly. "I have no idea what you're talking about. Survivors from what?"

He sighed as he followed the young man down the sand. "And do I look like I'm capable of carrying a cell phone?" He made a motion towards his general lack of clothing. "Seriously, you need to calm down and think. You're getting a little wonky right now and that freaks me out." He smiled, trying to cheer the guy up. "Now, we're about an hour and a half's walk from my hotel. From there we should be able to get you sorted out..." And maybe I can get a reward for being a good samaritan.

Only one word made it through to Jon’s crazed brain. Hotel. A hotel meant people, and civilization, and phones. Jon began to breathe a little easier. And the rest of the young mans comments slowly filtered their way back into his conscious. He turned to his new companion with a puzzled look. “Plane, you know, big metal thing, has wings, flies, carries people around. That’s a plane. And not Merda, Madeira, it’s my town; I go to Madeira High School. I was on a class trip when the plane flew through a storm, and everything went white. Next thing I know I’m waking up on this beach and I have now idea where on Earth I am. There’s like a million of these islands in the Caribbean right. Wait, you said you’re staying at a hotel, which means you know where we are.” The staff at the hotel would know what to do. They probably had to deal with ship wrecks and plane crashes all the time. This was the Bermuda Triangle after all. “Please,” Jon asked the boy, “Can you take me to your hotel. I’m sure we can get this all straightened out.”

He smirked at the man's reaction. It might be shock from what had happened or something else, but this guy was a bit confused. "Why would it need wings in the first place? Unless you're flying something small which has to be maneuverable they just get in the way. I've never heard of Madeira either, but that's not surprising. There's alot of places I've never heard of."

He shrugged and nodded back the way he had come. "You're not on earth, you're on sand, now come on. This island is relatively small and you can walk around it in a day." He looked up at the sun for a second. "We're almost directly across the island from the hotel right now, but it would be alot safer to follow the coast. It'll just take a couple more hours." And getting back faster is not worth the chance of being chased by wild zoids.

Jon looked at the boy funny, “Wings make it fly, everyone knows that. Everything that flies has wings. Birds do, bugs do, and airplanes do too. Its just one of those things that has to be. I don’t remember why, but I’m sure we learned it in science class. Maybe when we find the rest of my class one of the nerds can tell you all the details.” He reached down and scoped up a handful of sand. “And not earth, Earth. Oh, never mind.”

He lucked down the beach and then into the lush undergrowth that lay inland. “Yes, I like the idea of safe, I have had far to much excitement for one day.” And who knows what kind of lions or bears or tigers where in those trees He extended a hand to his companion. “Um, I’m Jon. Please can we get back to your hotel so his can all get sorted out?”

He smiled and set off down the beach. "The way I understood it is that the wings helped things stay up, they weren't really required." He thought for a second before he contiued. "Balloons don't have wings and the pieces of metal are useless with vertical take off, right?"

Seeing a piece of driftwood he detoured enough that he could pick it up as he walked back, leaning down neatly to snatch the stick up as he passed. "You can call me Michael or just Mick, Jon." Not really, but he doesn't need to know that. "So what is school like, I never bothered to go myself. Seemed like a waste of time."

“Balloons are the exception I guess,” Jon turned around, walking backwards in order to see Michael, “School’s a hassle. I could really do without all the brain work. But I have to maintain a C average or they won’t let me play soccer, so I do it. I guess it’s cool to see my friends too. I wish I could skip it like you do. Don’t you get in trouble though? There aren’t any truancy laws where you come from?” Still walking backwards, Jon didn’t see the large piece of flotsam lying directly in his path until he caught it with his heel. Stumbling, he twisted around, managing to catch himself on his hands and knees in the sand. When he looked up he was briefly blinded as the bright island sun glinted off something farther down the beach. Jon squinted, looking to see what else could be on the beach. He was surprised to see poking around in the sand a little ways away. It looked to be quite large, maybe the size of a full grown German Shepard. “Hey look,” Jon called back to Michael, lifting a hand to point in the dog’s direction, “Somebody’s dog, do you think the owner’s around here somewhere?”

"Truancy laws? After the war?" He chuckled to himself and looked at the kid. "I don't even know where the schools are back home, well at least not the inexpensive ones." Hell, I don't even know who my parents were... He doesn't know how lucky he is.

Looking up the beach he caught side of the lupine shape and shrugged. "I dunno, for all I know it could be a 'wolf. You need a hand?"

Jon got to his feet and brushed the sand off his knees. “There aren’t any wolves down here, even I know that much. They all live where there’s space and such. You know, running around in those groups. There’s a name for them, what was it…Packs! That’s it, they have packs. And the war’s still going on, but everything’s overseas so why would that affect the laws?” Jon blinked, turned to Mick, and smacked his forehead. “You right, you’re not American are you. That explains it. Your English is good for a foreigner. Where are you from anyway?”

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Much farther down the beach than Jon realized, Command Wolf B1NG-0 was pawing around in the sand searching. It had been three years since his pilot, a Republican sergeant, had abandoned him on this secluded little island. At first, life as a wild zoid had been fun. No more orders, no more schedules, and no one else telling him how to move. But, with no social interaction, the Wolf had soon become bored. Luckily he had stumbled upon a Killer Dome, and the two had become friends. Where are you Domey he called, playfully batting the sand. you can’t hide from me you silly crab. The playful zoid looked up and spotted movement down the beach. Bringing up some magnification, he saw Mick and Jon talking. Soft Skins! He pranced happily, the Killer Dome completely lost from his thoughts. It had been three years since he got a chance to play with a soft skin.

Dirk shrugged. "I don't really know much about wolves myself. I'm more used to flyers myself." He looked out towards the ocean and smiled, remembering his old Evo Flyer. True, the thing had made it difficult for him to pilot the old Godos for awhile afterwards, but it had been fun to take to the air.

"I've not 'american'," Whatever that is "but I'm probably from the area around Light Town. I dunno, I've been a drifter since my parents left and kind of lost track of where I've been after awhile." He smiled. "What about you?"

“Man, you have had it tough,” Jon felt a little sorry for the guy. He had always had his family there for him, though admitting it to his schoolmates would be akin to social suicide. “About me? Well let’s see. I’m a senior at Madeira High School, in America. I play soccer and I hope that my skills will help get me into college, because doing school work sucks. Other than that I just work at the gas station down the street from my house and hang with my friends. Your life sounds far more exciting than mine ever will.” Glancing up, Jon noticed that quite a bit of time had passed since he woke. “I…um…hate to be rude, but can we please get to that hotel now? My ‘rents are probably freaking out about the whole plane crash. After that we could hang though, you seem to know a bit about this place, you could show me around? But, first let’s avoid that dog.” Jon once more looked in the direction of the dog. “Is he coming this way?”

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The Command Wolf trotted down the beach towards the two teens at a ground eating pace, its tail doing a fair approximation of a wag. This is going to be so much fun! it yipped happily. I hope they sit in my head and tell me what to do again. That was so much fun back when that other soft skin played with me every day. We can go to the big shiny caves and make lots of new friends, just like old times. Propelled by his memories of his days in the Republican Army, the Wolf began to charge down the beach at a full sprint.

"We are on our way... It's not that big an island and we're about halfway to the hotel as it is, though if you're in a hurry we can speed up our pace. I don't know about you, though, but I'm not really a runner unless I have to be. I don't really have the stamina to do distance." That's because I focused more on learning on how not to run. A running person is just a target, and a good thief shouldn't have to run. He shrugged. "I can do climbing well enough, but the only thing I'm useful for is a decent sprint." He put enough of a spring in one step to get clear of the beach while at the same time craning his neck to try and get higher. "I don't have any idea if it's coming this way, but it looks like it's speeding up. Do you think it might have that rabbits thing... Rabbits? Rabbis? RABIES, that's the word!"

Jon was no longer paying attention to Mick. The dog was approaching down the beach at an alarming rate. And as it neared, its size increased. Now it looked to be the size of a large horse. Jon wasn’t usually the type to scare easily. But the days events had already taken a considerable toll on his psyche and seeing a dog the size of a draft horse come barreling down the beach at you would frighten anyone. He took a couple of steps back, this brought Mick into his field of vision. “Um, I think now would be a very good time to go the other way,” he said, still stumbling backwards. Not waiting to see if the kid followed his advice, Jon turned and began running back down the beach, not even bothering to look back.

Humming to himself, Dirk watched as the canine form grew larger on the horizon. Hearing the other boy's comment he laughed. As the other boy took off up the beach, he just walked a little closer to the ocean and stood still. I'd recognize that silhouette anywhere. Command Wolves are just so common. The odds of the wolf stepping on him were relatively small, so he wasn't worried. I wonder if this guy has had bad experiences with them in the past.

((not much to write))