[ In a string of familiar faces, two more appear on the video to join in. Devon Resnik, sleeves rolled up to her elbows, crew jumpsuit stained with some mixture of grease and blood, looks tired as she speaks. ] He makes an impression, doesn’t he? By now, what he’s offering might have started to sound pretty good, but you can’t let yourselves be blinded by desperation.

[ With her warning out of the way, Ward steps in, expression flat and hard. ] You can't let him have the ship. You know what you're capable of now. You'll be putting that power in his hands.

[ Side-by-side, in an indistinct hallway of the ship, broadcasting from what seems to be a sturdy, built-in terminal, Ward and Resnik continue to snowball one another’s comments, picking up from the end of one another’s sentences as fluidly as if they were their own. ]

And all that control you think you’ve gained over the ship will be for nothing. Do you think it was an accident that it wound up back in Miraxian space?

It wants to be here. You've been fighting. This isn't where you stop.

[ The emphatic insistence in his voice edges on hard desperation. This isn't a day they'd ever wanted to see. ]

We have no intentions of letting van Rijn get his hands on this ship or any of its tech. You don’t want that either, so let’s figure out a plan and stop him.
 
 
[ The feed begins with a single tone, low, as if testing the audio capabilities of the devices. On the screen is an older man, white haired with bright blue eyes, standing in front of a deep blue banner emblazoned in gold with a circular symbol containing three five-pointed stars. Though his face now is solemn, there are laughter lines soft at corners of his eyes, the set of his mouth one clearly used to the curve of a smile. He only waits a moment before beginning to speak, voice level, carrying an assured authority, a confidence borne from experience. ]

Residents of the Tranquility, I greet you today after many, many years of waiting. My name is Hendrik van Rijn, Prime Minister of the Miraxian Triad, the people who built and launched the ship you've been trapped on. You may not have heard of me, but I have heard of you, and all the terrible events you've been forced to endure as a result of the unprecedented malfunction which took the Tranquility so far from her intended path. I offer you the deepest sympathies of my people, and myself. Mistakes have been made, and I give you every assurance that now, with your return to us, we will find the cause of this tragedy and set things right.

I know you may have heard promises before, and met with the unfortunate souls in our society who prefer to cheat and steal than offer a helping hand. I know you have no reason to trust me; if I'd been through as much as you have, I wouldn't trust me either. But we have someone else here to speak to you, and I hope hearing from her will help to show the truth of our intentions, and allow us to begin the forging of a strong partnership as we move into the future.


[ With a last look to the camera, he steps back, turning his attention to the side and holding out a hand to greet and guide the woman joining him to take center. The woman's face is one known to many aboard the ship. She's gracious as she steps into view, appearing to squeeze the man's hand before she lets go and takes her place.

Odessa Knutson.
]

Thank you, Prime Minister.

[ Her attention turns to the camera then, head tilting to one side as a wide smile spreads across her familiar features. She has a look of health to her. A better diet, some proper sunlight, and time will do that. ]

Hello, Tranquility. [ Spoken in the same way one might ask, did you miss me? ] It's been a long time. Too long. For all of us. [ That smile turns a little sad. They've been through some horrors, haven't they? Time and distance has allowed much of it to become a distant memory. ]

The time has come to stop running. When I left the ship, I didn't know what to expect. We received so many conflicting stories, didn't we? I expected all the worst ones to be true, but it was a risk I was willing to take. I'm sure many of you can understand why. Still, I was afraid that I would find monsters. That I would be thrown in a dark cell and never see the light of day again. Now, I don't say this often, but... [ Her hands spread out to her sides, palms up in a gesture that says just look at me. ] I was wrong. After my escape two years ago, Prime Minister van Rijn's people found me. They gave me food, clothing, shelter, a new life and a new purpose...

To find all of you, and help you to be rescued as I had been rescued. I know most of you aren't like me; I'm starting over here, and I'm happier than I've ever been, but many of you have lives you want to return to.
[ The delight she has in sharing this good news seems genuine enough, especially (or even) to those who know her well. She clasps her hands in front of her, a light in her eyes. ] I've seen what the Miraxians have been working on myself. There's hope, so much hope.

Pack your bags, my friends. We're coming to take you home.


[[ OOC: van Rijn exited stage left once off camera, and responses will come from Odessa Knutson only. ]]
 
 
11 July 2015 @ 10:12 am
I haven't really been around. Sorry about that. [ Samantha needed the downtime after her stunt with the void, now she's socially refreshed with a better handle on her new lifestyle. She stuck with the buddies she made in her first month to help her learn about life-in-space and the telepathy-crap. ] I'll try to be more social from now on.

Nothing exciting happened. I got the hang of this mind reading stuff thanks to Rey. It's pretty awesome after you get over the nosebleeds. And I've been working on my dream walking when it decides to fucking work. It's hard to concentrate with the headaches. And I don't know what the Below I'm doing.

Long shot to ask, but does anyone know anyone that might have some freaking experience with this dream stuff?


[ ooc: dream walking permissions! ]
 
 
09 July 2015 @ 11:08 pm
[You may know the drill: the low, calm, somewhat English-accented voice of a young man.]

This is Ryuuzaki, speaking for Communications.

From the viewpoint of network traffic, there are still no signs of any new arrivals this jump. The department will let you know if anyone turns up.

Those of you who have been monitoring the length of jumps: do you know how long this one lasted? Is it possible to tell whether or not we've moved at all?

Did anyone find new items in their lockers?

We can't check on the drive itself, but we can determine whether or not there's anything further to discuss.

[Talk of past jump drive malfunctions leads to concern about potential current ones... other than the usual. Or does the lack of new arrivals mean it's now functioning as it's supposed to?]
 
 
08 July 2015 @ 01:53 pm
Got a question for you, Tranquility. Tell me everything you all know about Catwoman. And Batman, while you're at it. [It's about time someone told her her own origin story.]
 
 
01 July 2015 @ 05:14 pm
[ NO FILTER: MEDBAY RECRUITMENT ]
[For those who have seen William Tsang's typing at all in the past month or two, it comes as no surprise that he's opted for video. He's in his white coat, meticulously groomed and just as meticulously-- not hungover, the quiet sterility of Medical Bay all chrome and blue light behind him.] Oi oi.

If you've got experience or want experience in medicine or the healing arts, please apply today. You don't have to be a fucking brain surgeon, although we could use a couple more of those. [A beat. He blinks hard.] We've got need for: field medics and EMTs, psychiatrists, nurses, medical scientists, pathologists, pharmacists, robotics experts, magical healers, potion-makers, and people who just straight-up like to clean. We're making use of the volunteer program as well. Please give us a bell if you're interested and capable of learning. The nanites and other technology does a lot of the heavy-lifting, but we still really need personnel.

The past few clusterfucks, Medical Bay has become something of a stronghold. That stronghold is weaker when we're understaffed.

We have a few medical practitioners in these past few Jumps, although we've lost a few too. Our current staff is as follows. Contact them when you need help, and they'll do their best to provide an assist. Some are combat-ready, others prepped for room visits, and some operate strictly out of the Medical Bay.

[William attaches a spreadsheet, that is also carefully groomed of typographical errors.]

NAMETITLEMAGIC/SCIENCE AND SPECIALTY
William TsangChief Medical OfficerResidency-level Physician, Magical Healing
GaladrielHealer, Emergency Deputy CMOMagical HealingExpand roster )
[ FILTERED TO MEDICAL BAY: ...WELL, SOMETHING! ]
So, [William's masque of sobriety and lucidity is probably less convincing to those of you who actually see him at work day-to-day. But he does look decidedly less run-down today, for the purposes of his video, than usual. And very gamely, he continues:] A slew of you lot are new. Some of you are really small, and might have even gone completely unnoticed since joining due to a general failure to be observed over the counter-tops. If I fucked up any of your task and ability descriptions, please let me know, and I'll-- [he gestures vaguely.] In any case, I should've made introductions earlier.

So here goes. Any of you guys ever played doctor?

[He hoists a morbid-looking dummy into view of the camera, its plastic chest-plate missing. Dozens of sockets for missing organs, all of its alarm lights off for the moment. Someone's competing for creepiest manifestation.]

Let me know if you want to do a meet-and-greet, and I'll set up the shift rotation. Whoever ain't on-call can maybe join in a toast to Dr. Simon Tam, Lúthien, Lily Potter, and Dr. Jennifer Keller, may they be remembered as those who held any number of passengers' herniated intestines in during disasters past. Updates and advisories on the ship's latest methods of confusing and killing us, also welcome.

Even if not, say hi to each other here, too. Some of you probably need friends or some shit. [William's understanding of psychiatric health ends here!] Cheers.
 
 
23 June 2015 @ 01:56 pm
[He's been keeping to himself this entire time, working his way around the ship and learning where the lifts go and what times of day make it easiest to travel without running into anyone. Ailanne's intention had been to avoid everyone, find a way out of this place, and continue on his merry way.

Obviously, that hasn't happened yet.

Then comes the multitude of problems: he's stuck there. With no way home. No idea what's going on. And not a damned clue how to work any of the technology he's continuously faced with. (He'd stared down a microwave the other night and come no closer to discovering its purpose. He'd assumed it was an extra storage place and left the remains of his cold dinner there.)

So he tries to work his communicator again -- he'd gotten it to work once! Surely he can do it again. He's not a complete fool. He's actually very intelligent, thank you. Just... in other areas.
]

Hello?

[It's not on yet. He's staring at a blank screen. More button mashing is required. There is no method to that madness -- he just hits everything that pops up on the screen. First, he manages some text:]

8y3typ7PQ7TR FY

[Okay. Cool. Cool. He's got this. That was text. He's not sure what he just did, but he's managed to post one of his button mashing attempts.

Now how does he project his image? The button mashing saga continues. Anyone watching this train wreck will see flashes of his face, eyes narrowed in intense concentration. But the video continues to cut in and out.
]

Why won't-- --Fate's damned-- --work!

[And that's all you see and hear before the feed finally cuts on long enough to show the communicator's trip sailing through the air. The feed dies again as it smashes into a hallway wall.

Moral of the story: Ailanne still has no idea how to work the comm. But he's almost got it. So he might be able to reply.
]
 
 
13 June 2015 @ 08:53 pm
Tranquility, huh? Is anyone going to rename it anytime soon...? Because no offense, but it's like calling a big guy Tiny. 

[How's it hanging, guys!  Sure has been a weird week so far, right? Hughes wants to get some stuff figured out. Mostly, he wants to know more about the people he's being forced to be with now — it is essential that you get good footing with those who are handy and capable and decent here. And of course, it gives perspectives that a welcome entry, informative as it is, just can't provide in full.]


Lt. Colonel Maes Hughes, reporting in. I guess that doesn't particularly matter here, though I have to admit, this is way beyond my usual freak storms when it comes to crazy things happening outside of everyone's control. And some of you have been putting up with this for a while, huh? You have my condolences, and a metaphorical certificate from yours truly for keeping your sanity. 

... Assuming you have, anyway.

So!! The best thing to do while I'm deciding where I belong here — who's up for drinks? I guess I should precursor that with me really wanting to know particular information left outside of the welcome entries; the who's who, your own personal accounts of your stay. I'd like to act as a personal recorder of your own individual troubles within the Tranquility, how you're doing with your own individual departments. I'm still personally figuring out where I'd prefer; security sounds well and good, but I'm not a fan of putting myself into the danger zones — yeah, yeah, even in a place where it's pretty much a given. So communications is looking pretty nice, even if I'm still trying to figure out how the technology here works.

... My world's a little lacking in some respects, I'm noticing. 

[He grins.]



And hey! If you'd rather just grab a beer instead and just appreciating someone as annoyed as you about the place, I'm good for that, too. Besides, I've got plenty I can tell you about myself. And about fifty-million pictures I'm guaranteed you're dying to see! It's one of the few things I'd say this ship got right!

[.......................... fifty-million is a mild exaggeration]

... No guarantees I'll carry you home if you get dead drunk, though.

Last time I helped someone home, I ended up getting my shoes puked on; I only have one good pair here!
 
 
08 June 2015 @ 03:58 am
BE ADVISED. NEW ARRIVAL ARMED AND POTENTIALLY DANGEROUS. LEFT MED BAY, POSSIBLY HEADING TO THE HIGHER LEVELS LOOKING FOR A WAY TO ESCAPE.
 
 
07 June 2015 @ 12:02 am
[Today, Elsa wears a long blue gown with a pale, diaphanous overlayer. She wants to be as much herself as possible, after days with other people. She's addressing the network very seriously, but her words are initially uncertain. As she continues to speak, she sounds more confident.]

Hello, everyone.

About six months ago, I didn't wake up after the jump. I missed a whole month, and I know I wasn't the only one. I had dreams during this time, but no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't remember anything about them.

I've been starting to remember things since the last jump. Everything that has happened since then... the way that girl Seraphim died and the things she said... it makes me think that what I remember might be important, if it wasn't just a dream.

I talked to Emily about it recently, but there's more now.

The trouble is, I'm pretty good with math, but I don't understand the technology here very well. It's not like anything we had at home. That might be important, too.

My dream was about a woman with thick black hair and a ruddy complexion. She wore her hair pulled back. She left the pods after a jump, and the lights were red, and everyone was lined up in formation. I don't think I've ever seen anyone who looked like her here.

A lot of things that happened after that are still coming back in bits and pieces. The thing that I remember now is... after some time passed, she went to the jump drive. It's the thing that helps the ship move, isn't it? It wasn't easy for her to get in, but I still don't understand why yet: the important thing is that she made it. And it wasn't what she expected to see, it was... there were things that should have been moving that were... frozen. Not as if they were in ice, but they were just hanging there in the air, kind of like lightning that never moved or ended.

[Her expression has grown increasingly troubled through the course of this narrative.]

It scared her.

Did anyone else see this? Even if you didn't... do you know what it means?
 
 
[ There’s less darkness in the video this time, revealing some grease and blood stains on Resnik and Ward’s faces, and more of the hallway behind them. ]

So you finally get it? We’re all connected.

[ She seems somewhat relieved, but there’s a tired flatness to her voice as she carries on. ]

That membrane Charles was referring to is a link between all of us: it’s been there since you boarded this ship. [ A glance at Ward accompanies the mention of ‘us.’ ] I know you blame us for not explaining. [ She sounds fairly resigned to that, as if she doesn’t expect to change their minds, but she does want to explain now that she can. ] We couldn’t. But it’s trying to cut you off because you’re gaining control over it. It’s because of you that we can explain now—hold onto that. You have the power to change things, just like it’s had the power to look into you.

[ Ward's expression is grim lines edged with weariness, a lingering caution that doesn't leave his eyes. There's a thin trail of dried blood drawing a line down the side of his neck. ]

This isn't what it wanted, and this won't be the last time it tries to stop you. [ A warning. More warning than Resnik had wanted, but he doesn't look to her as he continues. Resnik, on the other hand, sends a tight, sidelong glance his way. ] You know what it can do.

So you know why we can’t let a man like van Rijn get his hands on it.
 
 
04 June 2015 @ 09:27 am
curious updates from this side of the ship, in continuation of this last post.

since then, several things have occurred in direct relation to the effects I last described. the observable ones include:
  • inc░░░░sed pain and bleedin▓▓░▓░ly treatable by physical contact with others (see medical's update re neurological damage)
  • the psychic observation being that the "ripping" sensation continues in earnest where that membrane area is attached to our minds, and physical contact triggers a "strengthening" of that area that resists that ripping
  • it also appears to make that membrane area "thinner"
  • the psychic whiteno▓░ going on behind the membrane seems to have increased in activity (imagine an angry beehive)
  • as of latest observance, I can sense the ripping/pulling become weaker
  • last but not ▓▓░st, ▓▓░cinations/projections of various stripes tailored to past experiences or ▓▓░chological states
  • here's the thing.

    when I talked about this presence before, I talked about its influence exerted over us -- as if the membrane were a window, and the ░░░ng on the other side of it is shading through its influence like light.

    what I've begun to sense is the opposite:
    I believe we are imposing control over or towards "it". I think it is trying to detach from us, for whatever reason, and we are collectively not letting it break free, and this resistance is only increased via physical proximity, and the more the merri░░░░░

    in extension and in support of that idea, I think we have more power than we realised.
    in the past week, I have ob▓▓▓ed our ability to 'find' people and dimin░▓ the effects of our projections. not only are we overcoming these projections ourselves, but it's very possible that we are in fact generating them by accident, and focus is allowing us to tame them. I think we are even changing our environments around us to 'find' people more efficiently, however subconsciously, and that this "thinni▓▓░ of the membrane is granting us access to these abilities.

    I implore▓▓▓▓o remain in contact with others to avoid harm. those on the passenger quarters end should gather together and equally try to help people get to safety. the clock is ░icking towards next jump and we have friends on the wrong side of the ship.

    we need to st░░░ ░onsidering how to get them back and whether we have the power to do so.
     
     
    31 May 2015 @ 10:00 pm
    [ A(n ongoing) series of garbled texts are sent in the days following the bisection of the ship. Many of the texts are to random recipients, sometimes in mass-text form (where available). Some of the messages will even repeat themselves from one day to the next, if anyone cares to compare notes. Anyone who receives the message and responds is apt to get a reply from Blake, who has remained restless since all of this began. ]

    June 01 - 02
    Neighbor | Harbinger | Threshold | Sanctuary

    June 03
    Random

    [Some time on June 03, these messages will become more erratic and unpredictable as the isolation sickness gets worse. John will be wandering until he succumbs to the coma and stops answering completely.

    Due to the strain on the communications network, it's not impossible to receive the messages in the stern of the ship, but they'll be a considerable amount of interference.




    OOC Notes )
     
     
    25 May 2015 @ 01:13 am
    [A somber face on the video feed. When last he addressed the people on board, it was about loss, and how to cope with it here.

    Irony was indeed a cruel mistress, was she not...?]


    As... no doubt you will have seen. Seraphim, who was here-- a long time. She has departed us, by more natural means that disappearance, and less natural means than a gentle and faraway death.

    She was surely too young for such a fate, and far too goodly. For those who grieve her, like I, I offer condolences.

    [A deep breath here, to square himself to the reality, and to keep calm in this.]

    But let her passing be not in vain.

    Before passing, she left for me, a message. Part of which she hoped to share with all of you. I will read that part now, that perhaps someone here knows how better to make of it than I, and can look at it and know what she meant to impart to us all.

    She said you all have to know. It was her final wish.

    [And so, reading from a part of that transcript, that it is much too raw and painful, too personal, to simply post the entire message she wrote to him.]

    There is an entire other side and it's white...

    Deutsch was right.

    Tell them it's SU(3) structure...

    --rallel univer--it's a compact universe--side the Jump...


    [There was the mathematical notation, too, but it was much too long for him to make sense of. The begging, and the emotions still to read on page; this, he would keep to himself. That was meant only for his eyes.]

    That's all.
     
     
    18 May 2015 @ 08:25 pm
    [The video feed turns to reveal Emily looking a bit worse for wear from the illness or whatever it is that is going around lately causing the headaches and the bleeding. She has never really addressed the network before, mostly because it felt superfluous and that was typically Nolan's thing anyway but this was different and probably an important thing to discuss if anything]

    Hey. So I am not really sure where to start with this— I know there's been the headaches and the bleeding that has been already mentioned and still going on but lately I've been slowly been getting bits and pieces of dreams or maybe something more like someone else's memories that happened before in this place.

    Anyway with everything that's happening right now, I figure it can't be a coincidence— so I was wondering if anyone else has experienced something similar?

    [ooc; Referring to the stasis coma dreams! Feel free to use this as a general discussion/info post and threadjack if you want too]
     
     
    16 May 2015 @ 01:52 pm
    [ Charles Xavier has managed to time this video for a moment when he isn't bleeding from the face, but his face is quite white, like maybe he has been not so long ago. When he speaks, his tone is level and informative-- but in most other ways, a certain amount of anxiety radiates off of him.

    One of his eyes has blood blotting over white at the corner from burst blood vessel. ]


    I wanted to share something I found when I was asked to examine Felix Laurens. Some of you know I have psychic abilities and-- well, now all of you do. [ Ha. Ahh. Anyway. ] I sought to find out what-- prevented him from speaking directly, or caused him to behave in strange ways, and a little about how he came to be here at all. Last we knew, he was dead.

    What I found was a second presence, buried deep in his mind. His consciousness was separated from it by a sort of psychic, membranous barrier, which I don’t know the nature of. In my haste, I broke through the barrier so I could understand what it was, and-- initially, it was just. Sounds. Memories. Thousands of them, and I wasn't able to make any sense of it. But there was something else, too, something intelligent and aware that seemed to see me, like a single searching eye, and tried to-- do something. Pull me in, is what it felt like, to all that noise. Felix helped break off the connection before that could happen, and I experienced symptoms not unlike the ones we're experiencing now.

    [ Charles hesitates. Taps his fingers against the desk. Continues, to the point. ]

    It's in everyone. Everyone's mind.

    This barrier is, anyway. It reads to me as being "thinner" [ you can hear the quotation marks in his tone ] for those who have been here longer, and "thinner" for those that attended Shepard's recon mission a while back. I haven't looked beneath it since I observed it in Laurens, but only because I fear that I'd find the same thing.

    It's also-- I believe-- causing the rolling side effects we're all experiencing now, or has something to do with them. I've observed that there is a resistance happening, a ripping, like the barrier is trying to detach from our minds, and then when we seek physical contact and the symptoms abate, the barrier strengthens. Perhaps it isn't a barrier at all, but a--

    [ He stops. He hadn't want to ramble and speculate. ]

    Study is ongoing, anyway, about what it means for us, what it does to us. I'll put up my own findings in the archival timeline, and keep it up to date. If-- if anyone like me is looking to confirm this phenomenon, I can't stress enough that it's important you go carefully. It will overpower you, given the chance.

    [ Grim public service announcement executed, he tries to consider how to sign off. ]

    For those that are newer, my name is Professor Xavier, with Xenogen. Sorry about all that.

    [ Aaand cut. ]
     
     
    14 May 2015 @ 11:28 am
    [The feed shows a boy of maybe six or seven, sitting in the gardens with a sheet of paper lying before him - the list of things that he wants to address. He's wearing the ship's uniform and his long hair is braided in a complicated pattern and adorned with little red, white and blue pearls.]

    If there is someone who always comes when we call them, and they don't come here, is there a way to make them come? Where I was before, you could do a task and get a reward, there should be something like that here as well, yes? Even though there are no regents, but we are still pulled to this ship, so it has to be similar.

    [He tried to call the General because one of the other residents of the ship, Glacius, would have liked to meet him and he didn't come, and as much as he doesn't like the cold, not having General Winter at his disposal means a pretty major loss of safety and that would be a lot of loss of potential "fire"power to make up for. It makes things a lot scarier.]

    And I have a few other things, too. [He holds up a hand, four fingers stretched out.]

    Are there any people from East of Poland and Lithuania and west of Mongolia here? Or who feel like they belong there in one way or the other. [One finger is bent down, and he giggles when it is a bit complicated to keep the other three up - but it works out in the end.]

    I need to talk to William Tsang, but I don't know what he looks like so I couldn't find him. [Asking might have gone a long way but the scary looking old woman that he saw around in the med bay when he stalked it made him continue stalking instead of taking heart and asking someone, and when you don't know whom you're looking for...] So you should tell me what he looks like, yes? [Another finger goes, and this one needs to be held down by the thumb so the remaining two can go up again.]

    Does anyone have a set of balanced daggers for fighting that they don't need? I can offer customized knitted products for a trade, or maybe something else if that doesn't work.

    [And then he stops abruptly, his eyes going wide before narrowing and tears appearing in the corners, and he raises both hands to hold his head. When he lowers them again a bit later, a trickle of blood has started to run out of his nose, but he isn't noticing it yet, looking left and right with a nervous glance (is there someone who did this?) before snuffling and fixing the smile back on his face and continuing, though his eyes are still a bit onfocused.]

    We looked in the kitchens and there are good knives, but they aren't balanced right. [He suddenly remembers that he was showing the bullet points on his hand and raises his hand, only his little finger pointing up now.]

    And I want to learn things. I can play the harp a bit, but I want to learn more about it so it gets nicer. So if you know how to play the harp, you should teach me. And I want to learn how to shoot a firearm because they work everywhere here, yes? And I want to get better with the bow and my daggers, too, so if you are very good at fighting with them you should teach it to me, too. Because children should learn things, yes? [So adults obviously have the duty to teach them. He peers down at his cheat sheet and then nods and lowers his hand, clasping it together with the other in his lap.

    And just smiles at the camera for a little bit before reaching out to turn the feed off - at which point he stops abruptly because blood has dripped from his nose onto the back of his hand and he reaches up in shock to touch his lip and wipe at the blood with hands and sleeves.]
     
     
    13 May 2015 @ 05:39 pm
    [ Appearing on the video, Lydia only gives the transmission some of her attention, busy in the science department. ]

    Well, Jasper's gone. Making me the senior and only physical sciences officer aboard Tranquility. If you'd like to consider joining, my name's Lydia Martin. We handle everything nonliving: chemistry, astronomy, physics. My most recent pet project has been an effort in mapping the location of the ship at each jump to understand our flight path, perhaps even predict trajectory.

    But with the DUPRR team on board, I'm hoping that project will be rendered redundant. Has anyone had a chance to speak to one of them about their resources? Given that you're all holding them hostage.

    [ Strong word, perhaps, but most of them are under guard of some kind. The non-combative eighteen-year-old isn't going to tussle with that, thank you. She'll keep her distance and let other people report in on what they've got to say. ]

    Oh, and for anyone who knew him? As of jump 043, Stiles is gone, too.
     
     
    10 May 2015 @ 08:39 pm
    [Wash was already not in a good mood after the craziness before the jump. Then he woke up from the jump to find Zoe and Kaylee gone. So the usual goofy big brother figure is not available. Instead, you get grumpy!Wash.]

    Okay guys. Seriously. Shuttles? Not your personal getaway craft. They're communal getaway craft. As in, if we ever find ourselves in a situation where we need to get the hell out of here, we need them.

    And in case you're not clear on that point, those things take a hell of a lot of maintenance. On top of everything else, they get damaged every jump. Differently every time. We've tried a lot of things to secure them ahead of time, but so far no luck. If you have a brilliant idea for preventing it we haven't tried yet, I'm all ears.

    Which brings us around to the other point I wanted to make here. Just like every department, we keep losing people.

    [And there's more than a little pain in that particular statement. Actually no he's not taking the fact that his wife is gone and the best case scenario is she's gone back for him to die particularly well.]

    And there could come a time when we need shuttle operational to get out of here. Which also means we're going to need more people who can train them. We need more people joining the department, but if you're already committed somewhere else, we can cross train you to fly in an emergency.

    And if you don't have any experience, don't let that stop you. Mostly we just want people who are willing to learn. Gavvers had never even seen electricity before. If he can learn to help out, so can you.

    [Please need lessons he could do with the distraction]
     
     
    [ By the time Blake gets to writing everything up, it's early in the morning on the 7th, some time around 0700. He doesn't particularly enjoy addressing the network, especially not like this, but the information is definitely something that needs to be shared. ]

    At approximately 0415 this morning, and according to witness reports, the individual identified as Antti Basher escaped medical quarantine and proceeded toward the main shuttle bay. At this time, it is believe that Basher made contact with Marcus Rothschild and Odessa Knutson. Basher later stated that their involvement was voluntary, but not premeditated.

    The above mentioned individuals arrived at the main shuttle bay at 0421 and proceeded to power up a flight-capable shuttle at 432 by bypassing its main security protocols. Due to the small number of Flight Crew Members in attendance, the unsanctioned presence elicited immediate intervention.

    Antti Basher was successfully apprehended in the Control Office by Flight Trainee John Blake, but not before accessing the airlock controls. At 0437 the shutter bay doors were opened without the appropriate warning protocols and authorization. This facilitated the escape of Odessa Knutson who currently remains at large. During this time, several members of the Flight Crew, Marcus Rothschild, and at least one unidentified individual were subjected to unsafe conditions caused by decompression.

    At 0445 atmosphere reached and maintained satisfactory levels. The Flight Crew Members then discovered the body of the deceased Marcus Rothschild, the apparent cause of death cited as asphyxiation.

    The circumstances surrounding Rothschild's death are currently under investigation.

    For a information on obtaining a full report of this incident, please contact John Blake or Hoban Washburne.


    [ If it sounds like a police report, well, there's a reason for that. ]