X marks the spot

Orientation Part I

Bags were ripped off. They felt that. Plastic. Words were being spoken, but they were fuzzy. A loud, ringing sound, that was the main thing the crew could hear. It built. And built. And built. Then –

Air. They gasped. Coulson looked to May, "is everyone alright?" but his question was to everyone.

He then looked at Simmons. She was here - wherever here was - too.

"Yeah," started Mack, "think so," he confirmed.

Looking back to Jemma, he saw that her gaze hadn't changed from what was infront of them. So, he followed it. Only to then wish that had hadn't.

A new monolith was there. This was white, with three lines of red horizontal line engraved into it.

He couldn't even say "damn," or "shit," or something like that, before the monolith turned into liquid, and splashed. That liquid was all they saw.

Then, there was silence...

That silence didn't last long, however. Coulson's view had changed. Not morally, but physically. Astroids. What looked to be a nova or something - Fitzsimmons had always corrected him on that - in the distance; a blue hue emitting from it.

A window was in front of him. It was cracked, so how the hell he was still alive, he didn't know.

Maybe this was a new tahiti. A new 'magical' place. Only this time, the others were with him; in space, the final frontier.

Turning around, he saw that, no, in fact time had stopped. That was how he was still alive. A man was being sucked out into space, a cansiter and spanner following him on his one way trip. He saw a face. Not one he recognised, but a face non the less. It was a man, rightfully so in his eyes, screaming.

He looked past the man, seeing three more people, one holding a rope - or wire - to try and stay alive.

Once again, that pulsing ringing sound grew both louder and faster.

"Shit," he could say this time, as he spotted a box moving. He dove, grabbing a handle as the first man was sucked out. The man holding the rope, along with the third person, were still with him. Their feet dangled. Alarms blarred. The grip space had on them was strong...

Coulson continued to try and climb, finding a new handgrip to try and pull himself up with.

The next moment, the sound of something heavy and metallic sounded. Whatever it was, shut, and the three fell to the ground. It was a door.

"Are you out of your skull? What the hell are you doing, blowing the damn window?" Orange coated man asked as they slowly got up.

"It's called 'improvisation'." Black coat answered with.

"Are you suicidal? Do you want to be a vacancy?"

"Couldn't see another way to kill that thing. We're safe now, ok? Quit hollering."

"The other guy I hired isn't safe. He's frozen in the vacuum of space!"

"Yeah, well, I'll take his cut, too," Black coat softened a bit as he continued, "relax. You can keep his rations."

"Hi," Coulson said, deciding to just rip the bandaid off.

"What in the hell?" Blackcoat asked, spinning around and holding up a weapon Coulson had never seen before. He rose his arms.

"Don't shoot, thanks."

"Oh my god," Orange coat said as he removed his hat in awe, "my god, you're here."