[a woman walks onto the Plane; she's wearing battered, torn clothes smeared with green, and there are a few fresh cuts and bruises on her bare skin

wide eyes quickly narrow in annoyance and suspicion; a hand rests on the pistol strapped to her hip as she turns her head, shouting behind her]

Hey! Stephen! You there?

[he doesn't answer, and she shakes her head, turning about and trying to assess her surroundings; apparently limitless, with random bursts of colour and no exit in sight]

Well, the stars are nice. Can't see them for shit in big cities, which is usually where the demons are. [she's nervous; she's gotten used to strange things, but this is utterly out of her experience, and she hates that, always has]

Is this some kind of vision? Magic? Hell dimension?

[there is a Brigadier on the Plane and he is ... talking ... to himself? or so it seems. he's off to a relatively remote area, not bothering anyone, and seemingly holding a conversation with someone who isn't there]

Right, lad, carry on then. There's a good chap. What? No. I haven't a clue what you're talking about. [pauses, raising an eyebrow, then nods] Yes, well. This just won't do, now will it? Bugger all, it's a bit more difficult than I thought it might be. Still, no matter. Keep a stiff upper lip and all that. [another pause and he frowns] No, I do believe I'll keep at it a while more, yet. Don't see much of a reason not to, really. It's good practice and all. Feels a bit strange, mind, but I've done it before. No reason to let it go to waste now.

[after a moment he drops, reappearing with a full-length mirror, and smartens up his uniform] I do believe I'm about ready, then.

[Isaac seems rather frustrated as it were, and he's pacing quite a bit. Eventually he stops, sits down and props his head in his hands]

How're we going to get her back...