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Fine.

[Finally hearing Lark's code, he switches over from public.]

10-20? Ass.

Edited 2021-07-15 19:55 (UTC)

We're not sleeping in parkas -- ause Admiral sends us to -- tundra.

Where are you? What's your condition?

Easy for you t- -wearing on- -ime.

There's - oad. [This isn't sass so he takes the time to repeat it.] Th- a ro-. - a road.

Coordin- fter dark. C -s a- -rk. You?

Safe. Found shelter. --n a lab. [This, also, bears repeating:] Em- b. Empty lab.

Landmarks?

[He swears under his breath. It could be perfectly benevolent but everyone will just have to excuse him if he's had pretty shit luck with labs in his lifetime and views them all with prejudiced suspicion.]

Trees. J - me off marsh. Head - orth.

[Painstakingly, Lark relays the few notable landmarks he can see from his vantage point. He has no idea how far Alec is, but if anyone can find them he's banking on Alec, powers or no. Speaking of...]

I'm depowered. -nly improvised weapons.

Parkas. Knives.

[He's staying calm - this is far from an emergency right now - but there's a clearcut thread of annoyance in his voice. Fucking Barge. He memorizes the landmarks anyway, wishsing he had his telescoping vision so he could confirm sooner if he's headed in the right direction.]

Same. Two knives. Kit. Ulla.

A- -lone?

No. [But it will take too long to explain who's here, and it's not immediately relevant.]

Ulla - owered, does she have legs?

No.

[So it is sheer, stupid, dumb luck that Alec found her, and now they have to deal with that.]

Tell y- -ore after dar-

10-4.

[And after a beat:] 8879.

[Which is their own code, a simple sign off that means 'get here soon', only with his tone it's not about an emergent situation.]

10-4. Clear.

[He's not any more worried than he normally is, and he's definitely the one in more trouble here, but there's always a small grain of concern living in his mind when Lark is out of his sight and now is no exception.

But he gets on. And after dark, when he's had a chance to get a look at the night sky, he's much more confident:]

1327.

[Answer if it's safe.]

Edited 2021-07-15 21:46 (UTC)

All clear. Status?

It's Earth.

- s earth.

[Fuck yes.]

Good.

--ow far out?

10-20?

The lab.

[But he has better directions now: a sense of how many miles east from what landmark, what portion of the river.]

-ny of that familiar?

River.

Do y- -xtant?

Sextant.

...What?

Fuc - ell me where - asshole.

I just did --is --cking worse than Verizon-

[It takes what feels like a full half hour to lay out what he can only fucking hope are useful directions, then repeat them. Then repeat them. Then again, to be sure every damn word has a chance of being heard.]

Copy?

10-1.

[Because everyone is having communication problems, but Alec stops to pinch the bridge of his nose.]

Can't d - -ngitude but - rth star. Sextant.

[Do you know what Lark has never, ever had to use? Navigation tools. Not even GPS. He's got a nose for that. So he just holds the talk button and groans.

He knows the bare bones basics. But fuck this shit. Please hold.]

-ld you.

[Alec, who has this knowledge, and tries to pass as much on to Lark as he can, until they both lose patience. But admittedly, yes, he'd slacked on this one.

Stupid wolf husbands.

He taps the talk button a few times while he waits, but doesn't try to say anything else.]

[He's lucky that this wolf husband is smart and highly motivated.

Two hours go by and then he responds. He sounds calmer, the way he does when he's been hacking away at a new problem and is reasonably sure he has a solution.

He gives Alec what information he finally has from measuring the horizon, the stars, and repeats it. Over and over again.]

Now hur -- uck up.

[Alec has had to move camp since then, but they're moving slowly still and he has time to let Ulla get some distance on them. He checks his own measurements, then sighs.

Hurry the fuck up indeed.]

Lark, tha - wo days. More l - ee, rate we're g -

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