Holly fumbled in the tangle of clothes, all entirely foreign to her, and resurfaced with something requiring what seemed millions of miniscule hooks and a button thrown in at unexpected intervals. That's not so bad, she reflected - until discovering the many things that came before the dress.

It was really a miracle that she managed to make it into the petticoat at all, and after grappling with the infuriating dress for what seemed quite some time Holly emerged helplessly with something resembling a tangled bundle of brown cloth, and gave Alanna a pleading look. "This shouldn't even qualify as a dress!" she protested, picking at it as if by doing so she might persuade it to take on a recognizable form.

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Alanna, feeling that they shouldn't be taking this much time, took the bundle from Holly. Sorting through the folds of fabric, she found a hemline and straightened the dress out. "This part goes over your head." The noise in the main room outside had died out. That couldn't be good. "Now turn around and I'll do the buttons." As her short fingernails slipped on the smooth, round nubs, she added, "Velcro and zippers are wonderful, wonderful things." Undoing the scientist's blonde ponytail, she twisted the hair up and rolled it into something resembling a bun, hoping nobody would notice the elastic band holding it in place. They didn't have those in the Wild West either. "Let's get out of here - I suggest the kitchen door." A thick, but authoritative voice was speaking in the saloon room, and she didn't feel like having run-ins with authority.

The two women emerged onto the street, blinking in the hot sunlight - and realized that they didn't have a clue as to where the others were. Alanna pulled out her scanner again, this time looking for trace radiation that anyone on the moon base had carried.

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<center>Nothing but the Rain</center>

Winter shot Sergeant Cortez a look that was something akin to confusion, mixed with confusion, and topped off with more confusion.

"Why would I know where the girls are, Sarge?" he asked. He had been busy relieving stress with one of the handy chairs that had been lying around. And glaring--that was too important to be forgotten in the bliss of relieving stress.

There hadn't been anyone in the saloon with clothes that really fit him, unfortunately. The best fit was still a size small on him, which, when combined with his baffled expression, would not have made the best impression on anyone who could see him. The bright yellow shirt and glaring blue vest were enough to make a person go cross-eyed, though at least the trousers were an acceptable grey. Of course, Winter didn't realize any of that. What was the point of thinking about clothing when there might be a fight at hand? He wasn't sure how much he would enjoy using a non-automatic weapon, but he supposed it would work out okay--he could always club someone with it. Thanfield would do nicely.

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Thanfield had only to glance at Winter to note the unwitting corporal's tactical genius. Winter's fashion expertise would give any hostile enough pause for him to whack said hostile over the head. Heck, even Thanfield was getting distracted. The yellow clashing with the blue was watering his eyes, and he wasn't even putting Winter's pretty face in the equation.

Cortez's less than complimentary glare jolted him back to the task at hand. With a woeful pang he realized the innovated GPS device on his Palm Pilot wouldn't work for lack of satellites. Neither was his radio working; he must have smashed it in his unceremonious landing through the portal. Instead he pulled out a tiny device that resembled a metal detector, with a flaring output tube and an infinitesimal X-ray transmitter. All units on the TG41B detachment were equipped with a latent receiver. If the receiver was within a certain mile radius, it would utilize the energy from the transmitter to emit a homing signal back, notifying the transmitter of its approximate location.

The transmitter's red light blinked once, then with increasing frequency as Thanfield scanned about and pinpointed the position. Fifteen degrees northwest. A strong signal, so they couldn't be far. He peered out the dusty window and located northwest to be just behind the bar they'd just left.

Thanfield glanced first at Cortez before easing open the door. The sheriff had dispatched one of his men to stand guard outside, but the sentry in question seemed preoccupied with scowling at his empty beer bottle. Even so, three men suddenly emerging from an abandoned saloon would appear just a bit conspicuous. He padded through the kitchen to encounter the poorly hinged back door, on the shack's opposite side and out of the sentry's view.

"We're drunk," he suggested with an experimental lurch towards the beverage rack. He extracted a few bottles that may or may not be drinkable and tossed them to the others. After all, drunk men staggered into decrepit saloons all the time, right?

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Carson followed the Marines, pressing himself against the saloon wall like they were. He pulled his gun out. Apparently Cortez wasn't too interested in subtlelty. Oh well, maybe the alien would hear about them along the grapevine and come looking for them. Hm. That was a disturbing thought.

Carson glanced at Winter. That was a mistake. Blinking hard, Carson tried to look past the Marines into the saloon. Where were those women?

Alanna quickly picked out the blips on the scanner screen. Four of them, just around the corner of the building. "I think they're waiting for us - or something." She led the way around the corner and raised an eyebrow. It was indeed like something out of an old Western movie: the three marines and scientist were all alertly poised against the wall, pistols raised - and looking in the entirely opposite direction at the double-hinged saloon doors.

The engineer crossed her arms. "Waiting for somebody, boys?" she drawled. It was getting very hard not to laugh. "It was my impression that you've already done enough damage in there."

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<center>Nothing but the Rain</center>

Thanfield stared incredulously at Cortez. What subtlety. What prudence. Thankfully for all of them, the street was empty save for a few drunks blissfully lounging on a porch a few blocks down. He managed a glare at his sergeant before an interestingly familiar drawl intervened. He snapped up to meet the gaze of your typical Western housewife, petticoats and all.

Except this wasn't your typical Western housewife. This was Alannah Yeh. Thanfield stifled a snigger.

Reminded of their mission, he located the sun and found northwest. A line of sharply jutting mountains obscured the horizon. Fifteen miles. And there was no telling how long they'd have to track the Bhorki. His pack was filled with plasma grenades, but he hadn't thought to pack rations or mundane supplies. His roaming eyes settled on a general store down the street. "Sergeant," he caught Cortez's attention, pointing at the shack. Without another word he ascended the porch and vanished through the doorway.

The storekeeper was amiable enough, with a glare of doom and wily eyes that kept pinning potential customers down as if they were potential robbers. Thanfield picked up a rope and grapple, as well as a few extra water canteens and more boxes of ammunition. The drunk from whom he'd procured his breeches from had magnanimously left some coins in his pockets. Returning the storekeeper's glare with a pleasant smile, he turned and exited the shop.

He found the others lounging in the shadows one house down, attempting to appear inconspicuous. Thanfield passed the water canteens around and began to ask Cortez, "Shall we - "

"Culprits found," came an immensely pleased and perfectly egregious voice from behind them.

Thanfield spun around to come nose to nose with the sheriff. And five lackeys. And tattling coward from the bar.

"You're arrested for murder and inse... inser..." One of the lackeys hastily whispered something in the sheriff's ear, to which the sheriff's aplomb returned in full, accompanied by the smug grin. "You're arrested for murder and insurrection against the common peace. If you'll come quietly..."

Alarmed and a tad worried - more for the sheriff's well-being than their own - Thanfield flicked a glance at his officer. He couldn't hide a wince. 'Coming quietly' wasn't a phrase in Sergeant Cortez's vocabulary.

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Carson stood near Cortez, catching his breath. "Well," he said, "what do you suggest we do? We're definitely not the most popular group in the town now."

Alanna eyed Cortez also, hands planted on her hips. "Was that really necessary? I admit that the West saw its share of gratuitious violence, but your method, although efficient, lacked elegance." She consulted her scanner again. "I suggest we leave, soon, before the locals notice the new crater in the middle of the street. The crystal is still in range - and I find myself becoming interested in this mayor, who is so coincidentally also missing something."

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<center>Nothing but the Rain</center>

"And subtlety wins the day," Thanfield couldn't help but comment. He glanced back at Dodge City, eliciting a modicum of amusement from the few citizens' oblique stares. None, however, dared to come forth. The sheriff and his men - or the morbid bits that remained - served as ample warning.

He glanced at Alanna and found himself agreeing. But thanks to Cortez, they could hardly march up to the mayor's edifice and interrogate him about it. Neither could they have done that even as citizens in good standing, but that wasn't the point. Blaming Cortez for their misery was just easier. It occurred to him that he should have brought along a stress ball.

"If the mayor's setting us up, we shouldn't enter the mountains yet," he opined, glancing at Cortez. The winding tunnels of the mines seemed ideal places for ambush.

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Holly had plenty of ammunition - it was her aim that was rather lacking. And the fact that she couldn't seem to make her belt fit over the dress, and it was what held both holster and ammo. She'd given up trying a while back, and had shoved the extra into a random pocket while holding the gun. Couldn't hurt to be too careful, really. "Yup," she said with a shrug. "Plenty."

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Carson had taken a pistol from the man he had started a fight with. He considered it just payment for his split lip and bruised face. It was loaded, but he didn't have any extra ammo for it.
The scientist did have his "futuristic" gun tucked in his waistband, hidden under his shirt. He had plenty of ammo for that.
Checking both his guns, Carson jogged down the hill after Cortez.

((Some places/times I've thought about-
The French Revolution. There was plenty of chaos anyway, the Bhorki could use that to his advantage
Scotland, during the Saxon invasions. I don't have a reason for the Bhorki in mind-I just like that time period. lol
The Cold War- the Bhorki could try to start a "hot war"))

The Roman Empire .....or Medieval Europe. Either one is pretty good. Elenya, you really want it to be in Scotland during the Medieval ages? I don't know about the rest of you, but from what I know of that time, Scotland was still divided up into it's various Celtic tribes and such, and was far more disorganized than Britain's Britons were. But, if you know more about it than I do, and are willing to share that info, Saxon-invaded Scotland sounds fine to me.

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Yeah, I might be a little mixed up with Scotland. I was thinking about it, and I think I got it wrong. I'll read up on it, and get back to y'all! lol
Roman and/or Midieval times sound cool! In Rome, the Bhorki could maybe try to start a massive slave revolt, since Rome was dependent on slaves.