A/n: Hello everybody! Long time no see, huh? Yes, I'm still alive. I recently got back from student exchange, and ready to get back into fan fiction writing again. Although it has been over a year, I never forgot this place.

Just an apology in advance for any spelling or grammatical errors. I've been back two months now, but occaisionally I still make blunders in English and accidentally substitute English words for ones of my host language. Hopefully I haven't done it this time.

Enjoy!

Chapter 13 – Out of the Wedding, and into the Vortex (Part I)

System Error log:

Error code: B1f5a2

Description:
Unexpected system shutdown. Loss of data may have occurred.

Reboot system?

OK -Cancel

You have chosen to "Reboot". Please wait patiently while we reboot your system and work on recovering lost data. Thank you, friend.

Somehow, this wasn't exactly what I expected. And what I mean by not expected is waking up on Taylor's couch in her basement with nobody in sight and over 24 hours worth of memory data missing from my hard drive. It was not a good start to the day.

"Hello?" I called lamely into the quietness of the basement. The words echoed back into quietness.

Great. Just great.

I sighed, got up from the surprisingly expensive IKEA-bought couch, and began to climb my way up the stairs when….

((Oh hey, you're awake.))

I frowned and spun around. "You just noticed now?"

((Well, I was too busy writing a blog reply to somebody who flamed my Everworld fanfic. Jerk,)) said McWhiskers, who had apparently been sitting on the keyboard the whole time. ((You didn't hear my typing?))

I shook my head and descended down the stairs. "What happened?" I asked.

((Hm, about what?)) he asked with genuine curiosity, while continuing to jump from key to key on the laptop with the grace of a swan. He had definitely been improving recently.

"Oh you know, just about winding up on this here couch with 24 hours worth of memory data missing. Nothing overly serious," I said, my voice dripping with sarcasm.

McWhiskers, who had now stopped typing, turned to me and shrugged. Which was a strange gesture for a rat to be doing.

((Don't go getting all suspicious over me,)) he protested, ((at least I didn't drag you hologram-less down the stairs and plunk you down on the couch like Gafrash did.))

"Dragged? Hologram-less?" Even after saying both those words out loud, I couldn't quiet decide on which one I was angrier over more. When I found that lousy so-called Hork-bajir, I was sure to give him a good pounding…with words. Violence doesn't solve anything.

"Any idea where he is now?"

"Didn't say. As he was dragging you down the stairs, though, I kept on hearing him mumbling something under his breath about someone called "Mischa.""

My holographic eyes narrowed. Mischa.

The suspected council of thirteen member. An acquaintance of Gafrash. The last person I saw before getting sucked into that vortex. The last thing I could remember.

She definitely had some explaining to do.

I checked my data recovery program. Part 1 of the data was 97 percent recovered.

98…99...

Recovery complete.

I clicked on the memory file, thus closing off all my sensors to the outside world. And as I did, I could hear the fading voice of McWhiskers.

"NOOOO, not the damned enter key! I don't want to retype my memoir for the fifth time, I don't want tooooooooo…"

I woke up to the radiant glow of dusk (or quiet possibly dawn) illuminating from a semi-dark sky. That, and a very alert looking blond towering over me, holding what appeared to be a dracon beam in my direction.

"Woah," I exclaimed, and then instantly went quiet.

"Woah?" she repeated, her face cringed and she looked disgusted by such a word. "You get sucked in to a vortex; ruin my plan, then wake up to me towering over to you, and all you have to say is woah?"

"Well, that's all I could think of to say. You sort of caught me off guard."

She didn't reply, but instead turned around and stared in to the radiance of the sunset and sighed.

While she did so, I decided than rather asking her what was wrong, it would be better to get up cautiously and run for my life from the physco and her gun. I was in the middle of my plan, when she quickly swirled around, dracon beam pointed at my head.

She grinned sardonically. I, on the other hand, let out a gulp.

"Think you could escape, eh?" she asked, that same grin failing to die from her smug face.

"Well, I thought I could at least give it a shot," I admitted.

She ignored me. "Have you got any idea what you have done, android?"

I shrugged, "fallen in to a vortex?"

"Correction," she corrected, "You have ruined my mission. You have ruined your own mission. And unless we find a way out of here, you may have doomed your entire universe."

"Who are you anyway?" I asked. I really knew I should have reacted with a, "What on earth are you talking about?" reply, but for some reason those were the only words I could bring myself to say.

Her eyes narrowed even more than before. She was like that for about two full minutes, just simply standing there and glaring at me with all that she could muster. It goes without saying, of course, that she didn't exactly make me feel comfortable.

Finally, the cycle was broken.

"SCREW IT!" she shouted loudly, "!" She stomped her foot down on the ground, and threw down her dracon beam with utter anger and rage.

((Ow!)) replied a not-too-happy Visser Three, who had been enjoying a midday snooze (otherwise known as unconscious) until now. I really have to stop with this "not being alert" thing.

And then, of course…

((WHO DARES DISTURB THE SLUMBER OF THE ALL MIGHTY VISSER?))

Mischa sighed, and surprisingly didn't seem as cheesed off as she did only a matter of seconds ago. How could somebody's personality change so rapidly?

Apparently, her sigh was a little too loud for the Visser's liking, because one millisecond later his tail blade was at her throat.

I froze, praying that Mischa wasn't the kind of scum that would blame her misdoings on another. Luckily, she wasn't.

"Who, me?" she asked in a sort of unphased and routine manner, as if this had all happened before. She stood there with her hand on her hip, not looking at all concerned by the very notorious-looking Visser that stood before her.

Something was definitely wrong here.

((YES, YOU! THE PATHETIC COWERING HUMAN!))

Her eyes narrowed. "Pathetic?"

"Hey, where's Visser One?" I asked, and a brief scan of the area. I was pretty sure before my visual drive blacked out that I saw Visser One go flying into the very same vortex.

"Oh," said Mischa, who was able to crane her neck just enough to scope the area out without become decapitated by the Visser's tail blade, "Uh oh."

((WHAT DO YOU MEAN BY THAT COLLOQUIAL EXPRESSION, HUMAN?))

Mischa replied in two very simple words. "SCREW IT!"

"Careful there," I warned, in all-out seriously, "be careful not to murder the English language. Overused of words like that are – "

She cut me off. "Why do you care?" she questioned, "You're a damn android!"

And there it was. After all the Chee's efforts to keep out identity secret from both Earth's society and visiting (read, "invading") aliens, it was all over. All that effort, all that cautiousness, just…wasted. And why? All because an unintelligent teenage acquaintance of Gafrash's who has a habit of overusing the words "screw it." While it was scary situation, it was really more embarrassing than anything.

((An…android?)) the Visser muttered dumbly, rather similar to Tom on that faithful day. He lowered his tail blade from Mischa's throat, absentmindedly forgetting that he had been holding her hostage. Guess even an all mighty Visser can't remember everything.

Quick Erek, think of an excuse. Process the data, process the data, process the data….!

"Uh, yes!" I exclaimed, "I am an android! But that only because…uh…you're dreaming! That's it!"

I thought I saw Mischa roll her eyes.

((If I am dreaming, then where is Visser One?)) demanded the Visser, ((Visser One is always in my dream!)

I her Mischa stifle a chuckle.

Visser One?

"Uh…she's around. Somewhere."

((Huh, okay.)) And so, without any suspicion, it was left at that.

Meanwhile, I tried not to think about what the Visser had just said. Instead, I decided to ask Mischa who she was again.

"Who are you really?"

((I AM A THE MIGHTY VISSER THREE, CONQUEROR OF THE –))

"Not you, her." I pointed at Mischa.

Visser Three looked at Mischa curiously.

Mischa, realizing that this time she could not escape the answering of my question, summed up her feelings in a very straightforward way.

"Screw it."

End data log part 1.

Mischa's agitated face faded out, and the dustiness of the club room faded in.

((NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! WHY COMPUTER, WHY I SAY? WHY HATE ME WITH SUCH HATEFUL HATE, WHY -))

I frowned, "How long have you been doing that for?"

McWhiskers stopped gnawing the enter key of the keyboard. ((A while,)) admitted McWhiskers, ((Have fun listening to it?))

"I was too busy viewing recovered data."

McWhiskers looked disappointed. As disappointed as an Andalite-nothlit rat was able to, anyway.

"Well, I'm off."

((What, why?))

"Going to see if I can find Gafrash. Or Mischa. Chances are if I just wander around for a while I'm going to run into one or the other sooner or later."

((Have fun. Make sure when you're exiting the house that you go around to the front door to through the living room instead of the kitchen.))

"What, why?"

((Probably better you don't ask.))

Just as I predicted, I ran into Mischa – outside of the local 7 Eleven.

I have been nonchalantly walking along the sidewalk, when all of a sudden Mischa, who had a large bottle of soda under her arm, flew out of the store.

"Ouch," commented Mischa, as she collided with my force field enforced hologram. She stood up, dusted off her jeans, and picked up her soda bottle. She then looked up.

"Oh," she said, looking sort of relieved for some reason, "It's you, android."

"Shhhhh," I shhhhed, looking at her with utter disapproval. "Secret, remember?"

She didn't reply. Instead, she unscrewed the cap to the soda bottle, and somehow managed to scull half of the bottle before the bottle overflowed with bubbles from being dropped across the pavement. Keep in mind, this wasn't exactly a small bottle either.

"Ahh," she said, sighing with content. It was strange seeing her do such a thing, especially considering that only a few hours ago I had watched footage of a very angry Mischa and her use of the term "screw it."

"Why did you do that?"

She wiped her mouth on her sleeve. "Good stress relief. Especially considering I don't drink." She looked around her sneakily, "at least, not most of the time."

"Lovely."

"So," she said casually and began strolling along the sidewalk. I quickly followed. "I suppose you want me to explain who I am. But in fact, I actually told you." Her lips curled into a grin, "Too bad I erased your memory, so it looks like you'll never know."

"Actually," I admitted, "My data recovery system is recovering the data as we speak."

99 percent…

"NO!"

Part 2 complete. View footage?

Yes – No

"Well, see you Mischa," I said, and waved goodbye to her with a devious smirk on my holographic face.

All the while, I could hear the faint screaming of two words. I dare you to guess which ones.

Everything was as it had been. One forest. One Andalite/Yeerk. One android. One human.

And right now, both the Android's and the Andalite's heads were turned at the human.

The human just stood there. At first she had looked rather stressed, determined even. But when everything seemed hopeless, this stubborn expression of hers transformed itself into something of defeat.

"So you really want to know?"

(("Yes!")) exclaimed Visser Three and I, both at the exact same time.

"You won't believe me."

I pointed to myself. "Android," I stated. I then pointed to the Visser. "Alien living in the head of another alien. Do the math."

"Point taken."

Mischa then exhaled deeply (so deeply that it lasted for at least twenty seconds), and began speaking very quickly.

"Gafrash and I are members of the TKA, otherwise known as the Timeline Keepers Associated. We travel from dimension to dimension, stabilizing glitches in the fabrics of reality that could lead to destruction of very existence itself. And guess what? I'm not even from your dimension! So how you like those apples, eh?"

Visser Three and I just stared. A long, awkward silence ensured, until Visser Three found the courage to speak up.

((What does that have to do with the round, juicy earth fruits known as apples?))

We both ignored him. Not that the Visser seemed to mind.

"Well, I didn't exactly see that coming…" I admitted, "But anyway, why are we here?"

"I was busy supervising the situation at the wedding. Top secret, so don't even ask. Anyway, my Dimensional Manipulator Device malfunctioned, thus opening a vortex that led us here – a perfect example of a code gray dimension."

I frowned. "Gray?"

"Gray dimensions are pretty much dimensions which have beyond repairable conditions. Abandoned dimensions, if you will."

"That sounds cheery."

"It gets better – Visser One, while falling through the same vortex as us, must have wound up at a different exit. The good news here is that my DMD's vortex-opening function is, despite the error, still intact and able to transport us home. The bad news is…."

"We need to be all together at the same time for it to function?"

"Bingo."

((No!)) exclaimed Visser Three, abruptly and unexpectedly, ((We must save-erh, I mean, GO AND WATCH HER SUFFER!)) He thrust his weak Andalite arm forward, fingers curved into a pointing gesture, and yelled ((THE ALMIGHTY VISSER'S ARMY OF TROOPS, AWAAAAAAAAAAAY!))

"Uh, excuse me?" I asked. I raised an eyebrow skeptically.

"Sorry, Visser no can do."

The Visser did not like Mischa's reply. ((And why might that be, pathetic human?))

"Well," she said casually, "you could get killed. Or worse."

"You could too," I pointed out.

Mischa nodded. "True, true. But if one of you got killed…well, let's just say the result won't be a good one."

"Let me guess, you'll get the blame?" I guessed.

She grinned. "Again, bingo. That, and we might risk the collapse of your whole dimension."

"But would we really be much better just sitting here?"

"Considering all the things that could randomly jump out of the bushes and attack you…probably not," she replied honestly. She then pulled a strange gun from her pocket, opened it up to check the ammunition, and took it into the grip of her right hand.

"So with you, we'll be a lot safer, right?"

Mischa looked up from her gun. "Correction – either way you'll be unsafe."

((I would prefer to watch Visser One suffer rather than sit here in clear perception of many hazardous earth creatures.))

"Uh…yeah," said Mischa, "creatures…sure. Fine." She threw up her left hand (the one not holding the gun) with exasperation. "Having it your way."

Her eyes then darkened. "Just one things though – in this place, not everything is as it seems. There will be deceptions, there will be sights to horrible and awful that it would make you wish you didn't have eyes, and last of all there will be things that would appear to be utterly impossible. Remember that, okay?"

So off Mischa went, with us not following close behind. Off we went, proceeding further and further into the unknown.

All the while, I couldn't help but to wonder just why I didn't choose to take the day off.

"Oh yeah, that's right," I thought, suddenly remembering, "Taylor."

A/N: CLIFFIE!

Okay, well not so much… after so long, I just had the urge to type those words. I hope you all enjoyed reading. I'll try to get the next chapter up pretty soon. Reviews and constructive criticism are very much appreciated! :)