Some kind of ship, briefly

The place on the other side of the portal was, at first glance, relatively empty. The walls were grey metal, a few bits and pieces stored behind netting on the walls. If she were to guess, by the fact it both seemed to expect turbulence and she could hear the hum of an engine, this was a ship. Maybe space-dwelling.

At least she had a moment to breathe. Sylvie shook the shirt out, pulled it over her head, and looked down at herself.

Bullet-holes. Not what she’d wanted. Frayed holes, some compounding each other like a figure 8, throughout a lot of her outfit. While technically decent, her shirt was tattered, the cups of her bra peering through a few finger-sized tears, and couple of smaller holes offering tantalising glimpses of her cleavage.

She ran a hand down her back, and was able to feel further tears there, though thankfully it didn’t feel like her bra strap had been damaged.

Her jeans weren’t perfect either. While less had been aimed at them, and the legs were mostly clear, a few other holes had opened up over her butt, though they were thankfully more grazes than clear tears.

“Not a good start,” Sylvie murmured to herself.

She looked around the ship again, some kind of store room, but couldn’t see anything to complement her outfit, nor a mirror to better analyze herself.

Making do with what she had, Sylvie looked herself up and down, and then started to move. At least she had pockets now; she slid the TemPad into one.

Grey metal, the sign of a species that had advanced its understanding but was childish enough to not want to lose the trappings of science. It was relatively small, limited with space, but at least the ceiling was high enough for her to not have to hunch.

The door out of the store-room slid open automatically as she neared it. Sylvie paused.

This could be an opportunity to take some time to use the TemPad and target a hopeful destination. At the same time, if this was a spaceship, she could see what coordinates were listed, if there were any other deserted, habitable worlds she could use.

Getting a base had to be a priority. Slowly, Sylvie exited. The corridor was narrow, a little cramped, and the same grey metal as the rest of the ship. She moved slowly, guarded.

A fair few races developed ships. What she could see was frustratingly vague; it would be better to avoid them anyway. She was especially wary after her last portal had seen her end up in some kind of monitored safehouse. It’d be better not to be seen as a stowaway.

It did figure though. The random coordinates she jumped to likely were past nexus events, meaning they were places where things could happen. Unless she had time to carefully find the coordinates of a world or place, she’d be ending up somewhere potentially dramatic.

There wasn’t much to the ship; the storage room opened out onto a short corridor, not much larger than the room itself. There were two doors down each side, and then a door at the far ends of the hallway; Sylvie picked a direction at random and headed down it, keeping an ear open.

She wouldn’t have long before the TVA appeared, but so long as she could see this ship’s archives.

She heard muffled voices suddenly, to her side; she quickly walked faster, and just as she heard doors slide open behind her, she ducked through the door ahead of her.

“Seal door!”

She jumped; the room she’d darted into unfortunately, wasn’t as unoccupied as the store-room. The automatic door quickly slid shut behind Sylvie, closing her in the new room; it pinched the trailing back of her loose shirt, eliciting an unwitting yelp.

“What the… Huh? Who are you?”

There were four people in the room; by the look of it, this was some kind of bridge or control room. One had spun around at the sound Sylvie had made, and now looked at her. They were humanoids, though noticeably not human, a distinct yellow hue to their skin. Well, it figured she’d run into a different species one of these days.

Sylvie tried to move; if nothing else, she could reach her TemPad, and consider this place a bust.

Then she felt something catch. She hesitated; she twitched her neck, and felt it. Her shirt was still caught in the door. The metal plates and slid securely together, clamping down on the material.

She tried to shift forwards a little, to ease it out; rather, she heard the sound of tearing. She faltered. The bullet-holes would be making it more fragile. She didn’t know if she’d have been able to ease it out if it were intact, but it was too easy to tear the top as it was.

“Can you open this door?” Sylvie said, well-aware it was probably pointless to ask.

By then, the three others had turned in their chairs to look at the interloper. The one who’d spoken first, who Sylvie had decided must have been some kind of captain, was still looking at her; yeah, she really didn’t want to tear her shirt any more just now.

“What are you?” the captain said.

“Happy to answer all your questions. Just, please, door,” Sylvie said.

She delicately tried to move forwards; she couldn’t even move her arms very far without her shirt straining.

The captain ignored her, apparently just trying to work out how on earth Sylvie had gotten on board. Sylvie grimaced. Maybe she could still ease her shirt out, if she was very careful…

Another portal hissed open. Three TVA agents strode through, summoned by Sylvie’s appearance; the crew whirled around to face them.

“Are you with her?!” the captain said; suddenly he was on-guard. Sylvie, meanwhile, winced.

The door wasn’t opening. And the TVA was here; she couldn’t stay. She just about reached her TemPad, but it opened a portal. It was just a portal a couple of steps away.

The TVA agents looked at her. Sylvie took a deep breath, and hurried forwards, the only way she could – she heard the almighty tearing sound of her shirt first, tears spreading from hole to hole, wrenching away everything but a tattered band around her neck. Then even that was damaged, a tear riding up the back and splitting the neck.

It had always been loose, but as soon as the door had a hold of it, there was no making it let go. As Sylvie ran forwards, she left it behind, the fabric torn from her body and left hanging uselessly from the sealed door.

Sylvie quickly crossed her arms; the bra showed too much of her breasts for her liking. Still, the portal blinked shut, and she took a breath.

Outside. On a planet. Not on the ship. It was twilight, the air was cool, and she was on a muddy, grassy plain. She turned up her nose, feeling the mud squish between her toes.

Ugh. Well, no TVA at least. And she still had on her jeans; the dark navy bra was better than nothing, even if it left her toned back, stomach and arms exposed. If nothing else, the slight warming in her cheeks counteracted the cool.

And then she heard gasps. Still red-faced, Sylvie quickly turned around.

Oh. More than the four people she’d seen on the spaceship. Now these were certainly human, unkept beards on the men, long tangled hair on the women, and clothes that reminded her of a shoddy version of home.

Sylvie opened her mouth, realized she didn’t know what to say, and instead adjusted her arms, cheeks reddening.

“That light!” one said, with more superstitious awe than fear or paranoia.

Well. It was a start. Sylvie hesitated. The plain was fairly empty, just grass, mud, and a hill upon which many of these people were gathering. Though she could hear the gentle sound of the sea from somewhere; she could even smell the salt.

No sign of buildings, or even much in the way of technology. At a guess, she was significantly in the past compared to her last few visits of Earth. They were wearing furs, bits of metal, things unlike the clothes she’d seen before.

“She must come from the gods,” another said.

“O, stranger!” yet another said. “Did you come in answer to our rituals?”

Sylvie took a step. The group parted for her, staring in awe. Well, at least they weren’t brandishing weapons. This place was better than most.

Keeping her arms firmly crossed, but curiosity making her move despite her unwillingness to be in front of so many people in her bra, she climbed the shallow hill. Sure enough, over the far side she could see the sea, a long ship moored not far off the beach.

“Your… rituals?” Sylvie said, slowly.

Something was vaguely familiar about that design. She’d familiarized herself with some of Asgard’s future, out of curiosity. Something in her mind was prickling.

“Our navigation failed us and we ended up in this land,” one of the seafarers said. “Such mischief could only have been caused by one of the gods, so we sought to appease him. Tell us, have you come from Loki?”

Sylvie hesitated.

“Ah,” she said. “This is awkward.”