Sandstorm {Discontinued}{Rewritten}

Interlude #10

While Sara, Len, Mick, and Deserey left to track down Anita, Daren, and the Oculus, the others worked to figure out how to take down the Pilgrim. Unfortunately, that was where their plan hit a snag. They had no way to track her, no way of knowing what her next move was.

"I didn't think it was possible to hide one's movements through time," Martin said as the rest of the team gathered at the console.

"It is if you have the Time Masters on your side," Rip explained.

"Which basically means we're screwed," Jax said.

"And if we don't put ourselves back soon enough then we'll disappear anyway," Ray pointed out. "So, either way they win." It's the cold hard reality that settles among each of them in turn. There is no way out of this, not without completely screwing history and/or erasing themselves from the time line all together; they were backed into a corner, and the Time Masters knew it.

The somber nature of the room was severed when Gideon's voice rang throughout the bridge. "Pardon the interruption, Captain, but we are being hailed by another Waverider."

Rip frowned. That didn't make any sense. "You mean another Time Ship?" Perhaps, it was the Pilgrim and Chronos offering some sort of negotiation? Bring us the young Legends and we'll make their deaths as swift as possible? 

"No, Captain," Gideon said. "I mean another Waverider."

"How can there be another Waverider?" Jax asked, scrunching up his face.

Rip didn't respond. He didn't have an answer that would be satisfying; in fact, there were a multitude of possibilities. They could have traveled back from the future at some point (a very stupid idea in of itself), it could be a past version of himself during one of his solo Time Master missions (though he would have thought he'd been more careful than that), someone could have stolen the Waverider and taken it for a joy ride... There were a dozen and one more possibilities, each more horrendous than the last.  The smart thing to do would have been to turn tail and pretend nothing had happened, but the curiosity was eating away at him. "Put them through," he told Gideon against his better judgment.

The first thing Rip spotted when the monitor on the wall flickered to life: two blonde teenagers pushing and shoving each other out of the way. "Get out of the way! I'm the Commander of this ship! Talking is my job!" the girl shouted.

"You're just going to scare them away with your Heathers references! We don't have time to track them down again!" the boy argued.

"I wasn't even going to --"

"Both of you move." Another girl, this one with strawberry blonde hair and a tall frame stepped into view. Rip exchanged looks with the other Legends, each of them having varying expressions of 'What the heck is happening?' "This ship is my inheritance! I'll do the talking, if you don't mind." There was something about her voice. It held a British accent, but there was something else too. A lisp? 

Another blonde boy pushed the other three out of his way. Also British. "Actually, I'm the oldest here. So, this ship is my inheritance, thank you." There was something...oddly familiar about this boy, but Rip couldn't quite place it. He couldn't help fuming the slightest bit. It was like looking at someone you knew, someone who's name should come easily to you, but his mind was blanking. It was something about those eyes and his nose. Rip was sure he'd seen them somewhere before, but he could not for the life of him remember where. It was beyond nerve wracking.

"Blah, blah, blah, I can't hear you!" the red head yelled. "Literally. I'm deaf, I have no idea what you just said, I wasn't looking at your lips."

The older boy rolled his eyes at her. "Then, how do you know I said anything?"