[There's no visual, but if one listens closely they might be able to hear the sound of running water in the background. Sounds a lot like the streams in the jungle area of the oxygen garden, where someone has been camped out these past few weeks.

[Rey is remiss to this already. The sound of her silence and the audio click makes that more than obvious. Eventually, though, she comes back:]

"Am not very good with these things. With talking. Been here for awhile. Would think it'd be easier by now, since so much time has past. Bottom line is, have changed quite a bit since fourteen jumps ago. Woke up not even knowing my own name. Didn't understand much of anything. But some things are still difficult.

"Can understand that we have an abundance of deeper concerns, can't get some things out of my head lately."

[She pauses, because damn. Where was she going with this again?]

"...Kissing. Been remembering this. Don't know why. Am missing someone, perhaps."

[This whole thing is stupid, isn't it?]

"Apologies, this is a rather pointless topic, in retrospect."

[ Someone is definitely in a cheerful mood. Chad is a new face on the network--he's never talked on it, since he arrived here when there wasn't one, and he's been a little too busy learning to live again to sit in his room feeling sorry for himself and chatting on the network. That and he finally has something to show the network. Five pumpkins the size of soccer balls sit on the desk in front of him. ]

I know, they're not much to look at, but it's not just size that matters.

[ This is where anyone who knows Spock well ought to be tripping over their own jaw. He has Spock's face, without a doubt, but Chad is about far away from Spock's manner as it's possible to be. Starting with the smile, but also the liveliness of his delivery, one hand hanging lazily over the top of the nearest pumpkin, and the other elegantly gesturing to them as he speaks. ]

I've never grown anything in my life, but I couldn't bear to let the seeds go to waste. Turns out it's easier than I thought. Now-- [ He raises a knife off the table. ] I finished one of them. The question is what to do with the others.

[ The lights flicker and then turn off, with nothing more than a particularly heated glance, but Chad is still lit up by the orange glow emitted by one of the pumpkins. He turns it around to face the screen. ]

Any ideas?

Oh, and while I'm at it, I need more ideas for things to do around here. Things that aren't carving pumpkins or improving my sex life. I have those sorted.

[ There's some white noise before Hal speaks, but it isn't hesitation this time. He's bored and indifferent, addressing this to the comms unit only as an afterthought. His voice is quiet, but it's not timid - it's carried by an easy confidence and a subtle aggression, though only if you're used to listening for that sort of thing. ]

What do you people do here? To raise morale. Therapy does not seem to be cutting it; this is a war zone. Crying about your feelings to someone without qualifications is hardly going to ease your burdens.

You rally and you hide in the tunnels as though you're waiting for Hitler to drop a bomb on your head, but this is not your home front, and you no longer have the luxury of calling yourselves civilians. Quiet reflections will do nothing to ease fear and tension when the enemy is at your door; you need something much bolder.

There is a reason soldiers so often resort to the excesses of alcohol and whores.

[ There's a distracted pause, and when he speaks again he sounds amused. ]

The mind is its own place, and in itself can make a heaven of Hell, a hell of Heaven. Cheer up, all of you.