"Damn it, Gwen!" yells Owen. "How many people do you have to kill to realize you shouldn't throw things? You have horrible aim!"
"Well I'm sorry you can't catch and it isn't totally my fault!" Gwen screamed back. "You shouldn't have had that alien tech in the autopsy bay!"
"No way are you pushing the blame on me! I didn't-," Owen began to reply.
"Shut up!" Jack yelled. "I'm trying to figure out where we are."
Jack looked around. They were in a rather dirty alley. He has never been more grateful they aren't in a public place. Five people randomly teleporting to a different planet, place, or time wish to blend in as much as possible. Appearing in the middle of a bar or even a hostel is not a good way to blend in. Jack should know. He had set his vortex manipulator to random too many times. Things always managed to work out pretty well expect for that one time with a Raxacoricofallapatorian.
Outside of the dimly lit alley were a bunch of lights and people. People not from the 21st century, however. Defining them as people is even a stretch, at least to the 21st century humans. There were cat people, blue people, people with eight legs, and even a dwarf with four heads. Jack recognized this place. It was the planet Lothian in the 51st century. A place where Jack had spent most of his adult life. It is also the headquarters of the Time Agency. The very Agency that had stolen two years of his memories and the very Agency that would like nothing more than to kill Jack.
