Date: Arrival +1

Location: Unknown

The dew on the grass reflected the sun's rays as it made its climb in the sky. The rays continued their upward trend until they pierced through the cabin's window, hitting Callum's closed eyelids. The new stimuli causing his eyes once again to flutter as he slowly awoke. His consciousness groggily coming around. His body was still in a great deal of pain, but nowhere to the point, it was before. His joints were aching, and his muscles were throbbing. Deliberately he forced his heavy eyelids open, taking in his surroundings.

There was a small decrepit room staring right back at him. His position was in the far corner from what he guessed was the door of the building—just misshapen planks held together by nails and sheer luck. The sun was shining through the cracks from the outside and under the door. The walls were wooden logs gaps between the logs plastered with some form of chinking. He was lying back on a few tufts of hay, with some fur blanket draped over him. The whole thing reminded him of a wooden cabin on the American frontier circa the 1800s, lice and all he thought.

He seemed to be the only one currently in the room; there was a fireplace to his direct left and what appeared to be another room on the other side of that. A small table and two chairs were in the center of the room, a thick cast iron pot in the center of the table. Linens strung up along the ceiling, made of coarse, homespun looking material. The embers of a previous fire burned in the fireplace. His kit was sitting next to him, all in a jumbled mess. Looking down to inspect himself as he struggled to sit up. He had the same type of coarse linens wrapped around both of his arms, going about halfway up his forearm. His hands coated in a thick clear salve, and minor burns visible under the salve.

Still unsure as to what has happened and how the hell he ended up here, Callum painfully pushed himself up to his feet. He was still in a combat shirt and pants, and his boots were still on. Hobbling over to his gear, Callum grabbed his plate carrier first. He was wincing as he lifted it over his head. Putting it on in practiced motions, securing the cummerbund through the tube system at the front of the plate carrier.

Next was his gun belt, which he quickly donned—deciding to forgo his helmet for the moment. His rifle came next, an M4 with a SOPMOD treatment, an SU230 PVS Specter DR optic, and an M320 grenade launcher attached to his older style picatinny quad rail. Grabbing the rifle, he checked the chamber and magazine. Locked, cocked, and ready to rock. Doing a quick once over to make sure his magazines his plate carrier placard were full. He began hobbling toward the other room, keeping his rifle at high ready. Only stopping just before the door's threshold.

He could smell a distinct earthy smell, but could not hear anything around the corner.

Not that it mattered. I made plenty of noise, hobbling my ass over here. Plus, I doubt whoever brought me here really means me harm. Otherwise, why would they have bandaged me up and left my rifle next to me?

Shaking his head, he pushed it out of his mind for now. He was still in some unknown place, and his team was nowhere to be seen. Readying himself, he pushed off, driving the rifle around the corner, and taking in the next room. It was smaller in size than the first room and empty like the common room he had just left. There was a midsized hay-filled mattress tucked into the far corner of the room, and plants were draped over string running along the roofline. A small bookshelf was the main attraction in the room, containing several leather-bound books ranging in size.

Relaxing, he began lowering his rifle and hobbling back out into the common room. Keying up his radio, he decided to see if he could raise anyone from his team, "Dagger Actual, this is Dagger 1-3, do you copy over."

Giving it a few moments, and with no response, Callum tried again. The result the same as the last, nothing. He continued to try over and over again. Growing frustrated, he attempted once more, "Anyone on this freq, this is Dagger 1-3. Can anyone hear me over?"

The cold silence was his answer. He flipped through several different frequencies but nothing. Sighing, he turned off the radio, to save on the battery.

Its highly likely the explosion fucked my radio. Just another thing to add to his laundry list of growing problems, he had no idea where he was. Who had found him, and how he was even ok. I suppose that the last one is not much of a problem at least. Better than the alternative.

Callum feeling extremely thirsty moved over to his pack, grabbing his canteen. Taking a swig, he swished it around before swallowing and resolving to start exploring outside of the cabin.

As he was returning his canteen, he could start to hear the soft murmur of voices approaching the front door of the cabin. Moving as quickly as he could, Callum tottered over to the entryway into the back room. Switching his rifle to his left side and propping it up in the doorway, muzzle pointed at the doorway while hiding the majority oh his body behind the wall.

The voices distinctly feminine, and very foreign arrived just at the other side of the door. There was a rattling as a latch was lifted, and the door pulled open, revealing an aging woman looking in her mid to late 60s. Gray unkept hair adorned her head, and she was wearing a loose-fitting tunic as well as a skirt that started halfway up her stomach and ending around her ankles. Standing beside her was a girl no older than 11 or 12 years old. Her hair was unique, an ashen color not quite vibrant enough to be described as silver but not to dull either. Also wearing a loose-fitting tunic, but instead of a skirt, she had a rough pair of pants made of the same drab material as their tunics. Poking slightly out of her hair was a slightly large pair of ears, slightly pointed at the end.

Seeing him almost immediately their talking ceased, and the older woman grabbed the back of the child's shirt. Pulling her slightly behind her half shielding her from Callum. Seeing no weapons and feeling like a bit of an ass, Callum lowered his rifle slightly. Still making sure that he was able to raise it in a hurry if the situation did change. Hobbling forward into the room as to expose himself fully to the two, he asked in English, "Where am I?"

The woman seeming perplexed, replied to his query still in the foreign language. Sighing Callum asked again in the other languages he was fluent in, being Russian and French. Still only receiving questioning gazes from the due. He even tried a few phrases in Arabic and a few of the Bantu language he picked up so far from his time in Africa. All to no avail, he completely lowered his weapon, feeling there was no danger in the situation. Just questions, he had never heard a language like the one they spoke at all.

Seeing him relax, the old woman entered the cabin, the child following behind now hiding behind the woman and peeking out from around her. The woman moved to the table in the center of the room, pulled out one of the chairs, and sat down. She then looked up at him, motioning to the other chair on the other side of the table.

Not needing to be told twice, Callum made his way to the chair and sat down. Once seated, the woman pointed at herself and said, "Eloisa." She then pointed at Callum and waited expectantly. Catching on to her meaning, he responded, "Callum."

Nodding, she started to point at things around the room. Stating what they were and waiting for his response in English before proceeding onto the next item. Quickly time passed, the sun no longer shining through the window directly but at its zenith in the sky. Denoting the time to be around noon. Since Eloisa and he had started their language exchange, the young girl had made her way to the back room. Callum occasionally noticing her peek around the doorframe and looking at him. Occasionally she would point at one of his possessions and wait for his response to what it was called: namely his rifle and radio. She did not offer up a response in whatever language she was speaking but just nodded.

Finishing up with their exchange, mostly for the fact of running out of things to point at in the sparse room. Eloisa looked at Callum, with a pensive stare. Seeming to mull something over in her head before deciding on something. She then looked towards the other room and beckoned past him toward the girl. Who once more was as looking out from the doorway inspecting Callum. She sheepishly made her way to Eloisa, avoiding his gaze. Arriving next to her, Eloisa then pointed to the girl, "Nym."

The young girl gave a small wave but moved to hide once again behind the older woman. Callum gave a small nod to show his understanding. Eloisa then stood up and motioned towards the door. Following suit, Callum stood up. The tax of sitting for a prolonged period took its toll on his taxed muscles. They were extremely tight, and a bit of a small stretch helped to loosen them slightly. Though a dull ache still echoed his earlier pain. He had earlier leaned his rifle against the table and decided on leaving it there. After all, he still had his sidearm holstered on his belt.

Eloisa had opened the door with Nym following close behind. Callum trailing them out the door, his first time seeing outside since waking up. The urge had been there to look out the window since taking a seat at the table, but Eloisa had been quick to switch from object to object. The view outside floored him. Callum was definitely not in an African jungle anymore.

Down a rolling hill from the cabin, a small village was nestled in between conifer forest on all sides. A single dirt road ran into the town through a breach in the forest, and out the other side once again entering into the forest. The buildings in the village a mix of cabins, both wood and stone construction, and what could be considered not much more than hovels. The distinct smell of wood smoke and the white smoke denoting such rising from chimneys on some of the homes. Many roofs being made from the construction of thatch, with very few having a crude wooden slat style roof. A small stream ran by the edge of the village, small groupings of crops tended to by farmers ran along the edge of the village. While managing to stay as close to the winding stream as possible.

A small breeze blew by carrying a crispness like that of early spring or late fall. Definitely not the hot sticky air he had grown accustomed to in the past couple of weeks. A small chill ran down Callum's spine. Brought on by the gnawing of worry growing in his mind. First, he woke up in an unknown place. Meeting a people who did not understand any English or any other language, he knew. Now he was staring at what only be described as some medieval village, peasants, and all.

Even in third world countries, it was rare to find a place seemingly untouched by the modern world. Passing through some of the impoverished places Callum had been in his time in the Army so far. Seeing electrical and phone lines haphazardly running between buildings was a common sight. Yet nothing of the case was here, no phone or electrical lines, not sign of modern textiles. Every person he could see was wearing obviously homemade roughspun clothing. The farmer's tools all appeared to be homemade implements, not anything that was mass-produced.

Eloisa shaking him from his trance, pointed down to the village, "Drewmere." She then pointed to both herself and Nym. Saying both their names and several words he did not understand, followed by Drewmere. The only thing he could think of to the mean of the words was that they said they lived in the Drewmere. Or something to that extent at least. She stated it several times, making pantomimes of something to the effect of tilling soil and sleeping. She then pointed to Callum, the meaning conveyed without words.

Reaching over to his shoulder, he pulled the American flag patch from the velcro and held it out, showing Eloisa, "United States of America, Callum is from the United States of America." he said, a cold sweat starting down his back. Hoping for some form of recognition to show up on her face. He cared little if it was disgust or distrust, just something, anything. Eloisa scrunched up here face and simply shook her head and shrugged her shoulders. Any hope he had was dashed at that moment. Panic started to invade his mind as countless thoughts raced through his mind. His legs started to give out as Callum came down to his knees. Wondering if he had died in that explosion, and this was some form of afterlife. Or that is was simply some form of a fever dream, and he would soon awaken in some hospital missing limbs. Or that he was simply in some form of coma, and just dreaming.

No, this was all too real, the pain was too real. He could still feel the pain in his chest as though he had been impaled.

He tried to remember what happened at the moment of the blast. The only two things he could truly remember was the intense feeling of heat and the feeling of pushed by the shockwave, and then only the briefest moments of a feeling of falling. Then just blackness, only blackness.

Eloisa quickly came to Callum's side. Helping him back into the cabin Nym on his other side, taking some of the burden off Eloisa. Helping him to his chair back at the table, he slumped down into it. She called for Nym and relayed some types of directions. Nym hurried back into the back room, returning a few moments later with a few plants and handed them to Eloisa.

Callum slowly tried to compose himself, not letting whatever had happened to rattle him into such a state. Eloisa took the herbs and started to boil some water she ladled from a basin in the corner of the room in the cast iron pot from the table. Hanging it about the fire on a hangar attached to the back of the fireplace.

By the time he had somewhat composed himself, Eloisa had given him a mug filled with some sort of tea made from the plant. It helped calm him fully, having felt the worst panic he had felt since the first time he had been on the receiving end of enemy fire.

While he sipped away at the tea, Eloisa had retrieved several books. Two of which were small in size while the third was a hulking tome. Bound by a leather strap. She moved her chair closer to Callum and began showing him the book and reading from it.

As the afternoon went on, Eloisa tried to teach Callum some phrases and basics of the language using the two smaller books. Both of which were handwritten with hand-drawn illustrations. Callum could only think there were probably used by Eloisa to teach Nym.

The afternoon came and went that way, but Callum had learned very little. He had struggled to learn the two languages required of him before becoming a Special Forces soldier, and this language was beyond confusing. It seemed to follow a subject, object, verb word order, which is simple enough. But with alterations of the same words carrying different meanings altogether. It did not help; he was not able to concentrate. His mind continuing to wander, pondering about his situation. The larger tome was some form of perhaps history book. A crude drawing of several countries and their borders was on the first few pages, however, beyond that it was all just chicken scratch of the language and spattering of numerals similar to that of roman numerals.

Towards the evening, Eloisa had made up a small meal for the three of them. Some kind of porridge with a hardy type of bread. Both Nym and Eloisa looked malnourished. Their cheeks pulled tight against their cheekbones, and he could definitely see why from the food they ate.

Once they had finished, she had taken Nym and gone down to the village. A meeting of some sort was all he could guess, a large number of villagers making their way to the largest of the buildings down in the village. Leaving him to his own devices, having retrieved several other books for him to peruse.

Deciding to take a break from the insurmountable task of learning a language with no reference. Callum took his rifle out to stump just outside the cabin he had spotted on their earlier excursion to look at the village from afar. Breaking his rifle down with a field strip to give it a good cleaning. It became a ritual of sorts to end days with the cleaning of his rifle. It helped him help clear his mind and was relaxing. The daylight turning over to darkness rather quickly. The only light coming from two moons in the night sky.

They did go off a lot of light, at least.

Callum thought letting out a sigh. It had stunned him for several minutes when he first noticed that there were two moons in the sky. He had eventually shaken it off and had continued cleaning his rifle. Just accepting the fact now that he was no longer home, something that was increasingly becoming apparent the further the day went on. This especially so when Eloisa had sprouted flames from her fingertips after a small mumble of even stranger words to rekindle the dying fire before she had left for the village. All he could do was stand and gawk. Eloisa not even noticing his befuddled state as she and Nym left the cabin. He had stood there for a good few minutes in that state before he finally had the misfortune of swallowing a fly that had flown into his open mouth. Causing him to finally come back to reality.

There was nothing he could do about it but accept it at this point and move on. He had to roll with punches. Dwelling on it was going to do no good at this point.

His only objective was to figure out how had gotten here, and hopefully find some way home. That's the only thing that mattered to him at the moment. Images of his brother and his parents running through his mind as he continued to clean his rifle.

________________________________________________________________________________________________

Several miles away, a drone started deaccelerating from the near-supersonic speed it had been traveling. It had two ion propulsion VTOL engines positioned at the end of the wings. It was not exactly a small drone but not overly large either with a length of 30 feet and a wingspan of 38 feet, around the size of most single-engine piston aircraft. The fuselage was ovular in shape, and it was not made to carry personnel. Only cargo having an internal cargo space and several other goodies for the would have been colonists back at the spacecraft. There was no armament attached to the drone only empty hardpoints, albeit for a small dart gun that was currently stowed away under the drone's sensor suite.

It moved silently through the night air with the aid of the ion propulsion. The only sound in the still night was the wind's whistle as its wings parted the air. It passed silently over the village of Drewmere and moved in on its biometric target lock.

The target obviously being Callum as he sat on the stump furiously brushing the bolt carrier of his rifle lost in thought. Trying his damnedest to get all of the carbon buildups off.

The drone skirted the edge of the treeline, silently hunting its prey and coming up soundlessly from behind. Its engines flaring up and rotating first forwards and then towards the ground bringing the drone to a hover. Deploying the dart gun, the drone's computer guidance targeted the nape of Callum's neck. Accounting for the drop of the dart and the minor amount of wind, the drone fired the dart. It took only several seconds to cross the several hundred feet it had been away and impact Callum's neck. The nanite serum mixture injecting immediately into his system. The nanites immediately knocking him unconscious again as they started their work.

After finishing its task, the drone began to gain altitude and move into a high altitude loitering pattern above the village. Using it's sensor suite to take high-resolution photos of the topography and points of interest. Its orbit growing wider and wider to cover more and more area.