A visit into the past...

Who: Trisees
Where: BD and His Memory
Trisees stared at the door in front of him and felt a weird sense of
personal loss. The door was one he knew very well, his walking
aimlessly having delivered him to at least one possible destination.
However, judging from the deep slashe, grooves and blackened burns in
the door he imagined that the help he wanted would not be found there.
The imprinted blue words had once read: Medibay.
Now all they read was: Me.
If he'd been in the mood, he'd have laughed at the weird humour. Out
of all the people who hated the Blue Dwarf, he was the only one to
still be around. It was irony personified in himself.
Trisees frowned and tried to prise open the doors, which was a feat in
itself should he be blessed with a pair of arms. It seemed that
trying it with a single arm, and not even his dextrous one, that it
was bordering on the possible in the same way that one might call the
second coming of Christ possible.
He sighed and gave up trying to open the door, instead opting to look
for a nearby grating. For some odd reason, there didn't seem to be
any around. He then realised that seeing as the medibay was a place
he'd called home for nearly a year, maybe he didn't want to see what
had happened to it. It'd be like walking into a burnt down family home.
He felt a strange pounding in his head, followed by a bright flash.
The corridor went white for a second, and Trisees clutched at the
place where his left ear would have been.
There was another flash and suddenly the Blue Dwarf disappeared from
view, instead being replaced with a greeny neon gangway over a
thunderous oily engine. It hissed and screeched out loud, steam
rising from various thick metallic pipes coming from the back turbine.
He stared at the rifle in his hands, then he stared at his hands.
"I have hands plural again?" he asked confused.
"Larry, what was that?" asked a female voice behind him, causing
Trisees to realise that he could hear things again,
He turned around and his jaw dropped. Standing behind him was a young
girl of about 19 years old. She had deep blue eyes, the colour of the
pacific ocean, and golden tressles of hair, currently wound tightly
and held up above an S.A.E.C. away team uniform.
"This isn't now, this the past," he stammered, catching a look at his
reflection in a nearby well polished length of metal. The girl stared
at him confused and punched his shoulder playfully, laughing.
"I'm back on the Sylphabia!"
"Of course you are, where did you think you were?" asked the girl.
"Sarah," said Trisees. "This is going to sound REALLY strange," he began.

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