The dark-haired Lars and his cohorts had beaten the guys in the dungeon. The binding ropes and chains made it hard for them to defend themselves. In the midst of this, he saw Behrad's air totem, forcefully thieved it from his wrist, and sported it on his own. The lean and blond Owen deliberately took off Gwyn's glasses and crushed them with his heel. He slid them into Gwyn's pocket. Fed up with their disrespect, the blinded doctor criticized, "You, sir, and your petulant chums owe me a new pair." The beefy Thomas tried to do the same to Gary's spectacles. When he took hold of them, the latter immediately switched into his extraterrestrial form. The captors were so repulsed by his appearance. "What in the world kind of creature are you," the short and mustached Oliver questioned.
"He's an alien. A literal alien," Owen retorted. "How bloody sick. Imagine if there are more like him." Two of Gary's tentacles struck him and Owen in the face. Broken free of his chains, Gary reclaimed his glasses furiously. He struggled with Lars for the air totem, which he successfully repossessed for Behrad. When he reverted to his human form, the kidnappers pinned him down to the ground and confined him with rope. They applied tighter and more complicated knots to ensure he doesn't escape.
The courtyard is lighted with burning torches in the hands of the audience, who don a range of black and white cloaks. As the men were ushered from their jail to the stage, the crowd started booing at them. A sneering Owen and Thomas bind them to a wooden pole, while Oliver tosses bouts of hay at their feet. Lars proclaimed, "These five men are guilty of aiding the pervasiveness on our land. The sentence for their crime is... death."
"You can't do that, Vandrake. It's illegal!" Angus protested, "What about my family?"
Thomas hissed, "You should've thought of them before you helped these cretins, Murdock." He, Oliver, and Owen step down from the stage.
Gwyn inquired, "You're a family man?"
The shop owner forlornly nodded. "I have a wife and three children with one on the way. My daughter, Felicity, is 13, and my twin boys, Dylan & Braeden, are 7 years old. How about you?"
"Gwyn and I both have—had families in Wales. We haven't seen them since the war." Gwyn lost touch with his family after he left home and before he was enlisted into the British Army. He believed that they departed the country because the last round of letters he wrote was marked "Return to Sender". The lack of letters from them fully convinced him of intentional disconnection.
"Thank you for your service. Which war were you involved in?"
"World War I."
The veteran's forthright answer mystifies Angus. "WWI? That's less than a century ago, and these men look like they're in their 20s or 30s. The bearded one must be at least in his early 40s," he thought to himself. He asked the same question to Behrad and Gary.
"My parents currently live in Washington DC, in America. I have a khwahar (sister) named Zari. On the flip side, she and I are more constant with our large and offbeat found family, which includes my buddies here. I also have someone special who's in our household."
"Fascinating. What's her name?"
"Astra," the Muslim totem wielder answered sorrowfully. "She's the first girl I've liked for a long time." He silently frets about being unable to say he's sorry to his enchanting girlfriend. A tear streams down his cheek at the thought of not seeing her again.
The bespectacled Necrian is likewise distraught. "I came from a huge family with 49 brothers and sisters. The only blood family member I still talk with is my aunt Stacey." He lamented, "My girlfriend, Gideon—she doesn't know I'm going to die again."
The red-haired shop owner inquired, "Again?"
"The first time was when her computer twin ejected me from the airlock."
Angus is even more baffled. "Computer twin? Airlock? You four are really from out of town, are you?"
"This is why we create a backstory," Gwyn moaned, already feeling embarrassed by the lack of discretion.
Gary, however, was not listening to his ally's complaint. Hearing his own words opens a box of emotions. He reflects on the accompanying memories: the fateful day in question, his bittersweet reunion with Gideon, the couple's intimate reconciliation, and their exchanges prior to the guys' arrival to Wales. The common factor slowly sticks out to him like a sore thumb as he finally realizes the cause of her trembling behavior. "She's still haunted by Evil Gideon," he said to himself. "That's her sensitive subject." He musters up some courage and called out, "Excuse me." Lars turns around and grimaces at him. "My friends and I really want to go home. We don't want any more trouble. So, do you mind letting us go?"
"Oh, you want to go home?" Gary nods in affirmation. He gets the others to agree, though they are more pessimistic than he is. Lars suddenly bursts into laughter, which they can tell is at their expanse. Eventually, Owen, Thomas, & Oliver as well as the audience participate in the mockery. They all go silent when Lars narrows his eyes at Gary and voices spitefully, "Not a chance, four-eyed freak."
Unbeknown to them all, Astra and Spooner are hiding out in the dim eastern tower. They see the commotion playing out from a distance. The latter reads the minds of several audience members. She concludes the outcome as very unpleasant. "Yikes, I'm getting a lot of hostility directed at Behrad and Gary & blame aimed at Gwyn, Alun, and... who's the guy with them?"
The Waverider idly hovers several feet high above the castle. Gideon watches the scene from the central console. She runs a close facial scan on Angus and a missing person report surfaces on one of the monitors. She speaks clearly and directly into the comms. "His name is Angus Murdock, age 33. He owns a bait-and-tackle shop in Pembroke Dock. He was reported missing by his wife, Eleanor, three hours earlier after he failed to return home."
Upon seeing the report, Zari obtains an idea and sets off straight to the server room. She hacks into the dispatch system at the Dyfed-Powys Police Station through the ship's computer. She inscribes an anonymous message, alerting about the whereabouts of a certain Angus Murdock and a tip about criminal activity going on at Pembroke Castle. Once she forwards it, a dialog box pops up, indicating the memo is being transmitted. She warned Astra and Spooner, "Guys, I sent a dispatch to the authorities. They should be receiving it pretty soon."
"How long until they get here," Spooner interrogated.
"I give it 15-20 minutes, more or less. Maybe an hour. In the meantime, stall."
"Got it," Astra affirmed. She casts a spell on herself. Her best friend is confused, assuming that the enchantment didn't work. Once Astra steps out of the dark tower, she is wearing a mahogany cloak. She pulls the hood over her head. "I'm going to get the guys. Create a distraction on my signal. Don't shoot at anyone."
"Name one time I shot someone." The disguised sorceress raises an eyebrow at her. "That was one time and it was an accident. I did apologize." She rushes to the back of the stage without being spotted. As Spooner vigilantly and patiently watches for the signal, she clutches her rifle by the barrel. Astra flashes a two-finger signal in the markswoman's direction. She begins smirking as she locks and loads her weapon. "It's showtime."