“My name is John Crichton, an astronaut. Radiation may have hit me, and I got shot through a Wormhole. Now I'm lost in some distant part of the Universe, on a ship - a living ship, full of strange alien life forms. Now, listen please. Is there anybody out there that can hear me? I'm being hunted by an insane military commander. I'm doing everything I can. I'm just looking for a way home…”

John Crichton, “Farscape”

“What if you could travel to parallel worlds? The same year, the same Earth, only different dimensions. A world where the Russians rule America... or where your dreams of being superstar came true... or where San Francisco was a maximum-security prison. My friends and I found the gateway. Now the problem is... finding a way back home.”

Quinn Mallory, “Sliders”

***

An Unknown Version of Earth.

And then… Elliot opened his eyes to find himself under a tree - the sun was shining and it was a clear day… so why was he on a tropical beach?

“Is that a palm tree?” he said aloud, staring at the familiar yet strange thing. It was strange that this was the first thing to come to his attention, and yet he had rarely if ever seen one in person - and any country on Earth where he might have witnessed one was subsumed by the barrier...

‘Is this the past?’ He wondered. ‘Is that even possible?’

He stood up and checked himself, leaving the question aside for the moment. He still had his shotgun, sniper rifle, hand-cannon and daggers. He was a little ruffled but uninjured.

What… what had that place been? And those voices? He shook his head. A question for another time. Right now, he had to figure out what was going on and where he was.

“Hello?!” he called out. He cursed himself for his stupidity. If this was somewhere hostile, he might have just given himself away. Still. He unholstered the hand-cannon and drew out ‘speed-killer’, spinning it in his hand. Whatever was here… he’d deal.

“H-Help!” a voice cried out from nearby. “I can’t get up! Is anyone there!?”

It sounded like someone was in trouble. 'Five minutes - I've been here five bloody minutes.'

“Hello?” he called out, moving in the direction of the cry. He started jogging. “Is someone there?”

“Y-yes! I washed up on shore, I… I can’t get up!” the voice stated. “Who’re you?”

It was then that Elliot came upon the person who was crying out; it was an average looking man with brown hair, white glasses with one of their lenses cracked, a white collared shirt, black jeans and a pair of dress shoes - his tie was also black… and he was soaked… and he could barely crawl.

“My name’s David!” Elliot cried out. “Hang on, I’ll try and help.”

He moved next to the man, trying to assess his injuries.

“Thank God! I was worried I was stuck here alone or something, do you know why you’re on this beach?” the average looking man asked, while Elliot saw that his back was… off.

“Why I’m on the beach?” Elliot asked. “Long story, I expect. Here, your back is injured - can you feel anything below the waist?”

He gritted his teeth, “I think, I can feel my soaked socks on my toes. Still hurts though," he answered, before noticing the arsenal. “Whoa, you expecting an ambush or something?”

“Hm?” Elliot said, before looking at his weapons. “Oh. Or something. Now…” He looked the man over. “Back injury, non paralytic, no way to safely move him… damn.” He flexed his hands. “Ok… this might be weird. I’m gonna need to set your back straight. That will hurt. Then I’m going to fix it. That might hurt. I need you to be as still as possible while I’m doing these things, clear?”

“Uhhh sure," the man said, sounding a bit unsure.

Elliot began by gently (or as gently as possible) popping the disjointed vertebra back into position. The man hissed in pain, but remained mostly still. Then, with a deep breath, Elliot laid his hands on the man’s back. A soft golden glow emitted from his hands for a moment, and then was gone. Elliot stood up, stumbling slightly, before falling over on the beach further up the shoreline, feeling utterly drained.

“Ow…” he said quietly.

The man blinked, before starting to get up slowly - he saw Elliot’s faltering form.

"Oh! Hold on David, uh.” He dug into his pocket and took out a vial full of a green pill. “Here, eat this. It’ll fix you up.”

He took out a pill from the vial and gave it to Elliot.

A little suspiciously but sensing no ill-intent, Elliot took the pill. A moment later, the energy drain he felt dissipated, and he could have sworn the ache that had settled into his body lessened somewhat.

"Huh," he said. "Thanks.”

“No problem, name’s George, George Siskel van Reiziger by the way," he introduced himself, before offering Elliot a hand.

“David Elliot, technically Major David Elliot,” Elliot replied, taking the hand and pulling himself up. “Where are we anyway?”

“I… I don’t know.” George looked around, scratching his scalp with his right hand. “I can’t think of many places that would have a beach front as a setting that I haven’t been at already.” He looked at Elliot. “By the way, uh… what was that you used on me? Magic?”

“Something like that,” Elliot replied. He wanted to keep lengthy explanations out of the way until he knew more about his location. “Just a couple of questions I need to ask.”

“Go ahead, but I think we should get going towards the beach - maybe we’ll see a city.” George states.

“No point going to a city if you don’t know what you’ll meet,” Elliot said darkly, looking around. “Alright. First off, what year are we in?”

“If I had to guess, probably a modern time - a decade into the future or something. 2000s’? 2013 at most,” he stated.

“Guess?” Elliot frowned. “You mean you don’t know?”

“Uh… no,” George frowns. “What you think I’m a local here? I’m as foreign as you are.”

“Figures," Elliot muttered. "Ok, so I suppose the names Celestia, Solamina or Twilight Sparkle don’t mean much to you?”

“Ummm, no… but- wait… actually.” He stopped to ponder for a moment. “I think I may know a Twilight, but when was it? Thirty movies ago?” George looked to his hands. “I’m not animated this time, so I guess not.” He muttered, looking himself over

“...movies?”

“Oh… well, Dave its a long story - I’ll tell you about it later; just know that I’ve been popping into a bunch of places for no rhyme or reason.” George explained, “One of the earlier ones I appeared in was… I dunno, I think it had something to do with the British Isles with the Nazis occupying it or something.” His grey eyes look at Elliot. “Where are you from? A war?”

“You might call it that,” Elliot said, frowning. This was weird. "So you've never heard the name Solamina?"

“Have you ever heard of the Ark of the Covenant getting blown up with an RPG?” Georgie asked, “No? Well I did that, but I’ve never heard of anyone named Solamina.”

“Really?” Elliot asked. He frowned. “Not even once?”

Georgie just shook his head

"Hell," Elliot murmured to himself. He frowned, scratching his stubble as he thought it over. Could be the past. Could be a parallel universe - that had been a weird conversation with the Doctor, and though he didn't rate that talk much before now... well. He'd have to reconsider. "And it could be any time..."

“Time is weird, I’ve been to some many different eras in different moves - would you be surprised at how many World War II flicks there are?” The man asked, “It’s crazy, so where are you from then?”

“Britain. We’re fighting…” He paused, and smirked. “God, it sounds ridiculous when you say it like this. We’re fighting pastel ponies from another world that assimilate people. They conquered the rest of the planet but Britain is immune to their big wall of death, so they settled for more traditional means.”

“...So it’s like the Matrix but with ponies?” he asked, not sure how to take being told that his new friend had been fighting against cartoonish horses.

“Ha. No such luck. Nobody’s nearly as beautiful as in the Matrix films,” Elliot said with a short laugh. “Feels more like a fuckin’ Warhammer game or something, truth be told. Maybe Gears of War? Dunno what pop culture reference’d be appropriate, that was always more Sam’s schtick…”

He trailed off, his expression falling slightly.

“A friend of yours? One that got turned and you had to kill him?” George guessed.

“Something like that,” Elliot said quietly. “Anyway - if you don’t know the name Solamina and you’re not local there’s not much more to ask.” He took out his shotgun and handed it to the man. “Since we don’t know where we are, might I advise prudence?”

George took the shotgun and cocked it. He looked to Elliot.

“Well," he said, "I think right now the two of us should head away from the water - it’s something that keeps happening in movies, there will be something if you leave the waves.”

He started to walk opposite to the sea, his wet dress shoes taking sand as he continued on.

“If my life were a movie, it might feel less like shit,” Elliot muttered. “But whatever man.”

***

Elliot and George continued their long trek from the beach away from water.

“So, you want to shed some more light on why you’re fighting a bunch of Technicolor Cartoonish Horses, why they want to convert you and who this Solamina person is?” the man asked the Avatar. “Cause, I’d like to know why you have access to magic and all.”

“There was an island,” Elliot began, shrugging slightly. “No one ever figured out where it came from. It just appeared. And there was a portal there. Nothing we had would go through it - not people, not material. It would just disintegrate. Then the ponies came. They were actually kinda nice.”

“They always are,” George said, scowling and recalling that rare time he actually did appear in something else besides a movie… damn reptile aliens in human suits. “Let me guess, they were polite and all before they struck you in the back?”

“Something like that,” Elliot said quietly. “The portal… the barrier that prevented anything, anyone from getting through… it expanded. Like a pink wall of death.”

“…I take it the thing would destroy all that it touched?”

“Everything,” Elliot said morosely. “And everyone. Cities. Farms. Cars. People… everything.”

George paled over hearing that - a pink barrier that would literally erase all that it touched… that was beyond horrible - like a Death Star firing without blowing up a planet but still killing it.

“The whole world,” Elliot said quietly. “Only two ways out. Death… or conversion.”

“Right… I remember you mentioning that - so what? The stuff they use causes you to lose yourself and turn into a mindless drone?” Georgie guessed. “Seeing how humanity in your world is kind of screwed something like that would obviously happen.”

“Not quite mindless,” Elliot said with a frown. “But… yeah. How…?”

“Let’s just say that after seeing some crap involving a bunch of Albinos and cubes along with having to get use to the idea of Reptiles in People suits you tend to figure out patterns that can happen if you’ve been movie jumping as long as I have,” the man said, scowling over having to deal with the Borg in that Star Trek film - bastards kept trying to assimilate him into their collective… it was a pain in the ass to deal with. “Also seeing who there was a point where I had to deal with men in bland that could become anyone… well, seems legit in this case.”

“You make it sound so… inconvenient,” Elliot murmured, a slight smile on his face.

“I’m a Best Buy Manager from the year 2013 that has spent what feels like ages going into like, I dunno, forty stand alone movies and a bunch of trilogies that I’ve basically seen enough of crap that has been done by this point to look psychic,” George said. “I’ve had to fight Nazis so many times it’s turned repetitive, I had to adjust to reliving the same day at one point and hell, I had to make sense of a serial killer’s mind at one point - I just want to go back to work in my world… this whole thing has been a pain in the ass and left me scars instead of honors. I’m not even a soldier when it all started, I’m a civilian that had to go through three separate World War 2 movies at one point while not knowing a single piece of French. So forgive me if I’m tired of it all but I am.”

“Could be worse,” Elliot shrugged.

“I’ve been mindraped by Freddy Krueger… I barely got out of that one alive,” he lampshaded. “I’d rather have to do your thing for a bit - at least it’d be PSTD and magic, not all sorts of crap.”

“I had to shoot my best friend in the head,” Elliot murmured. “I’d rather fight Freddy Krueger. Least that’d be a welcome change of pace from waking up to another explosion, having to kill a bunch of people, and seeing more of your friends die.”

“You sound like a World War II Vet crossed with a zombie apocalypse survivor - I haven’t been able to make any friends cause, oh yeah… I can’t bring anyone with me,” George scowled. “It’s against the Rules apparently, I’m stuck doing this gig on my own.”

Elliot looked at him for a moment, then started sniggering. That turned into a chuckle, and then a moment later he was laughing out loud.

“Oh shut up!” Georgie yelled. “Like you're one to talk!”

“Look at us playing the ‘I’ve got the biggest dick - sorry, I mean shit life - game’,” Elliot said, still laughing. “Man, this is fucked up. Let’s just say we both have it shit and move on - we’ll be at it all day reciting the worst things we can come up with -”

He was cut off by a coughing fit that overtook him. He covered his mouth with his hand, and scowled at the hand - it was covered in blood.

“You alright?” Georgie asked. “You want another pill?”

“I’m dying,” Elliot said conversationally. “But no, thanks. I reckon if your cure-all was gonna cure this all, I’d not be coughing up blood.”

“Eh, the pills are something I managed to figure out after getting enough crap together from various future movies and convincing some people to help me fix it.” He shrugged. “Apparently I can bring certain stuff with me - just not people or weapons; go figure.”

“Shame,” Elliot said, smirking. “I really love the phaser rifles from Star Trek: First Contact.”

“Eh, I’m partial to the blasters from Star Wars instead - they’re more custom. To state the whole ‘Rules’ thing is stuff I figured out after doing this stuff for so long… I can’t tell if I can’t die yet - never have and I’m not willing to go that far," George said. “Though I came close sometimes.”

“Wouldn’t chance it,” Elliot said. “Big deal, topping yourself. Slightly smaller deal, getting someone else to do it, but then they don’t do it the way you want it done, I guess. I mean, I can’t imagine Darth Vader would go ‘sure’ if you asked ‘can you just have me shot and not do the whole strangulation thing?’”

“I might ask him that, after the last world I went to - also one of the Rules is that just because you're immune to something from one movie doesn’t mean others from other worlds are immune,” Georgie said, recalling the time he kind of ruined the failed June Uprising in France… though he could do without hearing Russell Crowe singing. “Just trust me on that - it never ends well.”

"I'll take your word for it," Elliot said.

***

It would be a decent time for both Elliot and George until they reached any form of civilization - a beach resort of decent sizing in this case - which meant that their long walk was over and were on the right track.

However, it was too quiet for either of the displaced men’s liking - Elliot because of his nature as soldier and George because the last time he went to a building that was quiet… he got jumped.

“Well,” George began, look around the abandoned lodge. “Seems that we’re alone here,” he went to the front desk’s phone only to find that it had been cut. “And still cut off.”

“Zombie movie, anyone?” Elliot asked, getting surprisingly used to the concept. “You're the expert, what genre you call this?”

“I dunno; two guys appear on a beach - one of them is a Best Buy Manager that can’t catch a break and the other is a British Major that has been at war with cartoon horses for about three years…” Georgie stopped, taking his glasses off and rubbing his eyes at the absurdness of this whole thing.

“Our lives make no sense,” Elliot said, chuckling. “Ah well, most movies have something to shoot at - especially zombie movies.”

However, it would be then that George noticed something behind the front desk - it was a puddle of a purple liquid with a smashed vial and a woman, who given her uniform was probably a hotel staff member. She had an AMT Hardballer semi-automatic pistol in her hand and (perhaps more pertinently) was dead with a gunshot to her head.

“Uh, David,” George said, a frown on his face. “I think I may have figured out something.”

Elliot came over to where he was and saw the woman. His eyes flicked to the smashed vial, and he cursed, before looking around, eyes scanning for hostiles.

“Keep your guard up,” he said angrily. “This whole place could be full of Convies.”

“The converted people right?” George asked, his shotgun ready.

“Aye,” Elliot said tightly. “That’s ponification potion. If she’s dead, she probably shot herself to avoid the change. Either that or she was shot by someone else before she could. Either way, pastel ponies on the conversion path have been here.”

George took the Hardballer and an additional .45 ACP magazine from the woman before offering them to Elliot.

“You may something to go with you Hand-Cannon, in case you run out of bullets for it," he said with a slight smile.

Elliot took the pistol and smirked, before holstering it and drawing the hand-cannon with a scowl.

“Like I said,” he said, “keep your guard up. That stuff hits you, you’re dead.”

A few moments later, the two men heard what sounded like gunshots and screaming - it looked like they weren’t alone.

“Should we check it out?” George asked.

“Might be the only sign of life we’ve seen,” Elliot said darkly. “Come on.”

He jogged toward the source of the noise.

***

The two men reached the source - another hall in the hotel - a moment later, only to find a grizzly scene with a woman in hysterics. Judging by her uniform she also worked at the hotel, most likely a maid. She was armed with what looked like a bolt action rifle, and was crying. Before her was a man in a bellhop uniform - dead from a gunshot wound - who had an open vial of potion with him.

“Geez," George said in reaction to the scene, the woman with her back to the wall and sobbing - the rifle in her hands. He turned to Elliot. “Should we…?”

“Ma’am,” Elliot said slowly, holding his hands up in a gesture of peace and moving to stand in front of her. “Ma’am!”

She looked up at the two men and reacted almost immediately, the rifle aimed right at Elliot.

“DON’T COME ANY CLOSER!” she cried, “I’LL SHOOT YOU, I SWEAR TO GOD!”

“Ma’am,” Elliot said carefully, “I’m not PER. I’m not one of them. I’m on your side. You need to calm down. We can help you, I swear, but you need to calm down…”

“That’s what Jimmy said!” she shouted. “He found me! He told me it was Richie’s fault… that he was a part of those bastards!” She sobbed uncontrollably. “THE BASTARD HAD ME HERE TO BE HIS!”

“Ma’am,” Elliot said quietly, “I promise you on God’s green Earth, I am not PER and I am not here to hurt you. I promise you that. I am here to save you and everyone else I can.” He widened his arms in a gesture of openness. “If you really want, you can shoot me. I won’t stop you. But I can help you.”

She looked at George who just slowly put his shotgun down before raising his hands up. The woman looked at them before finally lowering her arm and going back into hysterics.

“Does this happen a lot in your place?” George whispered to Elliot.

“Eh,” Elliot muttered. “Fourteen million humans left. We passed histrionics a while back.”

“Ah.”

***

The woman - who had introduced herself as Cameron - had them with her in the resort’s cafe and was currently serving both men different coffees; George having a half and half while Elliot had his coffee black (was good for his nerves, surprisingly).

“Thanks Cameron,” George said, accepting the glass and stirring it with his spoon.

“I’ll need to start by asking the year, ma’am,” Elliot said, frowning slightly. “Might be an odd question, but I think my friend and I would both appreciate it.”

Cameron took a deep breath and then took a seat across from them both. “It’s the year 2021 AD,” she said as a matter of fact, “It’s been about forty years since the Great Merger… why do you need to know again?” She shot them a look.

“We’ve been stuck on a strange remote island for what what felt like the past month when in truth it was back in the 70s’, we only managed to escape because of a boat we found with a hole in it… and he figured out how to patch it with a coconut.” George said rather quickly, “And before you ask we’re dressed like this because the boat had weapons and clothes on it, though since I lost the coin toss he gets to look less conspicuous.” He jabbed a thumb in Elliot’s direction

Elliot raised an eyebrow, before grinning sheepishly. “Yeah… what he said.”

Cameron blinked, it wasn’t the strangest thing she heard… but it would do for now, “Okay… so I take it you don’t know about the Great Merger?”

“Can’t say I do,” Elliot said, his smile fading. He leaned forward. “But I’d appreciate it if you could tell me everything. I get the feeling it’s going to be important…”

Author's Notes:

And thus a cliffhanger, hope the pacing isn't too fast.

The first act begins and with it this strange new world along with two new allies who will stand beside Elliot during his journey: one of them a native guild and the other a survivor like him; they match his character rather well don't you think?