[ There's a boy on your video feed. Or more accurately: an intense close-up of his face, like he's inspecting it without realising it's turned on. But then before you know it, he leans back with an excited victory whoop. ]

Whoa! I got it working!

[ Now you can see more of him: he doesn't look to be any older than sixteen, but he's dressed in what are unmistakably fine clothes-- a collared shirt, a cravat, a jacket, etc. Even the patterned material is obviously opulent. ]

Man, these things are really ancient... --oh. Sorry. Talking to myself. Where are my manners? I'm Albert...

[ He trails off quite suddenly, as if he were about to say something else after his first name, but then thought the better of it. It's also noticeable that he pronounces it in the French way, "Al-bear", without the t. ]

Anyway! I'm making this video because I was hoping one of the kind citizens of this place could direct me in the way of food! French cuisine is preferred, but I'm not particularly picky. Hunger is the greatest sauce, or something like that.

Although-- now that I think about it, I don't... actually have any money? Oh, goodness. That was silly of me. I'm sorry, maybe just forget the whole thing.

[ He has the decency to look slightly sheepish. ]

In any case, since I'm under the impression that we're all sort of in this place together until we can manufacture an escape plan, I'm looking forward to the opportunity to meet everyone soon. I hope we'll be good friends!

( image )

Y'know, since we survived not murdering one another for being clingy (I mean you, Wrench Guy) and escaping the clutches of the Empire, I figure that I should hand out some handy advice:

1.) The ship is going to try and kill you.

2.) Don't try to rewire the roombas to make them go faster, they just freak out and go in circles.

3.) The shuttles in the shuttle bay are terrible and you can't honestly work in those conditions. Whoever did the wiring on the fuel cells to them wasn't even trying. The engine, if you can even call it that, is an absolute joke. It's like they don't want us to escape or something.

4.) Keep your eyes on your own property in the showers.

5.) Then, there's this guy. He goes by Ben or Obi-Wan or whatever ridiculous names that Jedi choose for themselves. This is what is going to happen: he is going to come to you when you make port on the worst possible planet you can imagine (Tatooine: don't go, don't stay), in a hive of the worst people you can possibly imagine and he's going to offer you a job. You will take that job, you will think it is amazing money for very little work. Here's the thing about Obi-Wan, he's going to get you in trouble. He's going to get you caught in a tractor beam and you're going to be stuck in enemy territory that's probably the size of a small moon. And the best part about it? You're not going to get paid. So, in summary: if Obi-Wan Kenobi comes to you and offers you a job, no matter if it's rescuing a Princess, doing his laundry or overall a favor: listen to the bad feeling in your gut, and say no.

Trust me, you'll thank me later.

 [The video flicks on to reveal a particularly banged up Commander Shepard still sitting in Medical, her scars cracking and glowing orange-red just a little more than they had been previously.  She's got the communicator propped up so she doesn't have to move around too much. Getting it that way had required her to be entirely too patient and she was running thin on that.  Being in a bed was by far the one thing she didn't want to do.  While she's feeling better, it's clear that getting up is probably not something that's going to be happening for awhile yet.  When she speaks, her voice is weary but there's steely determination in there.]

My name is Commander Sarka Shepard of the SSV Normandy SR-2 requesting a sitrep -- any information on our current whereabouts or mission parameters would be particularly helpful.  Obviously, this-- [Shepard waves, indicating the ship itself.]  --is not at all something I remotely recognize as being any sort of ship or facility design I am familiar with in the least.  So, useful details would be appreciated.    

[The muscles in her jaw tighten and twitch as she turns away, gingerly reaching for a glass of water.  There's a brief flare of her biotics and she pauses to refocus.  Nothing was working properly and it didn't help that she was irritated.  Getting a hold of the glass, she drains it, and leans painfully to put it back down.]

I'll be Medical, probably for a few more hours, and then I think I'll drag my sorry ass to my quarters.

[She makes a face.]

I could think of better ways to wake up.

[ robb and bran both are onscreen for this, grey wind at robb’s side, summer curled at bran’s. this is meant to be something official, and so robb’s drawn up straight, even though his fingers are carding idly into grey wind’s fur. he clears his throat before he speaks, darting a glance at bran then back to the lens. ]

Though my brothers and I have dwelled aboard this ship for quite some time, it was brought to my attention that there are many aboard who have questions about our direwolves, and we’ve been remiss in not answering them more fully. That is why Bran and I have come before you, to speak of our direwolves and assuage any fears passengers new and old may have of them.

[ grey wind gives a short huff, shifting as if to move away and robb pauses, fingers twisting in fur until grey wind stills beneath his hand. bran has been sitting more still through robb’s speech, watching his brother, but as robb falls quiet, he takes up the task of speaking.]

Our direwolves are not pets, but they are of House Stark and they are ours. They mind us, and they will not harm anyone--so long as we are not under threat. They have never attacked anyone aboard this ship, and they never will, unless there is some danger. They are not tame, but they are not wild and savage, either. And they will not hunt any animal aboard this ship, so those who keep pets need not worry. [and here summer flicks an ear, as if he might take argument with that statement, should tempting prey make itself known--but he settles his great head on his paws once more, as bran scratches behind his ear.]

There’s no need to fear them, nor a need to hunt them. The only times they have bared their teeth against anyone was in service of our House, and protection of our family. If you mean them no harm, then you need never worry about their presence, no matter how large and savage they may appear. [ none so large and savage as ghost, but perhaps that’s best not to bring up. ] If you see them in the halls unaccompanied by one of us, continue about your business. They’ll not bother you. [ grey wind’s lip curls back from his teeth and robb makes a hushing noise, expression stern, before he looks at bran. ] Have you anything else we should say?

[bran has tried to look more a lord than a child this whole time, but as he bites at his lip and thinks, he looks slightly more his age. summer rolls his eyes up to consider him, and robb, and grey wind, but does not raise his head.] Only-- that they are safe. And if anyone is uncertain of them, I would gladly let them meet Summer, so they could see for themselves.

Aye, and Grey Wind too. [ robb says to bran, before addressing the lens next. ] If anyone has doubts, you’re welcome to come to any of our House and see for yourself. We would happily accommodate you.

[The video clicks on and there is a--thing. She looks sort of kind of mostly human, except she's got donkey ears, corkscrew Homestuck-troll horns, slit-pupil cat eyes and a mouthful of sharp, neon teeth. Yeah. Once the video is on and she's sure it's broadcasting, she waves at the camera.]

Hullooooo! Camille here, resident newbie! I'M BACK BITCHES! Is what I'd say if the grand old multiverse could have been arsed to send me to an alternate world that’s actually, yanno, familiar and all! I’m certainly back in space, on what, a spaceship this time? Actually traveling somewhere, it is? And no horrendously bitchy AI this time around, well, not that I’ve seen as yet! Kudos to the multiverse! Oh, and kudos to you good folk, having a good and proper welcome post for us newbies! Right nice of you chaps! Never did get around to that in the last place I was at.

But anyway, let me tell you right now, space chumps! There had best be a place for me to open my café--again--or I’m eating the entire ship! Oh suuuure, they say it’s too big for that, but that’s just because they have never met a hungry shapeshifter before, hu hu!

Oh, yes, let’s just get that out of the way right now: I’m a shapeshifter! A shapeshifter who is also a baker! It’s alright to swoon, I really am that amazing! Best deal with it, sweeties~

[ The feed clicks on to show a man with blond hair and sharp blue eyes, expression calm - maybe even a bit unimpressed. When he speaks there's a similar nonchalance, emphasized by the slight southern drawl. He's wearing something that looks a lot like a bullet proof vest, and there's a gold badge prominently displayed on the chest. ]

Greetings, good people of the Tranquility. [ An edge of sarcasm, mocking the formality. ] My name is William Johns, and I've got a bit of a problem - I was transporting a dangerous criminal when things went a little haywire. Needless to say, this was not my intended destination.

[ There's a pause to consider the unresponsive screen and the futility of acting like there's anything familiar to be found here, but he goes ahead anyway. It's clear by his tone that he's going through the motions, isn't expecting anything useful to come out of it. ]

If the name Richard B. Riddick rings a bell, it's in your best interests to let me know.

[ And, with that out of the way: ]

Failing that, let me know if you've heard of the Tangiers or Helion systems. I'd also suggest having an engineer look at your cryo-chambers, see if they can't swap them out for models that don't make such a damn mess. [ That's a joke. Mostly. ]

[ The video comes on and Nolan is putting on a tie over the pink polo he was given in his locker. He's not a fan of the uniform he was given. He has an annoyed half-smile on his face. ]

So let me get this straight. I get abducted, put in what is essentially goo, and then I'm expected to wear a uniform and march around the ship like a happy, obedient person.

[ He shifts a little as he gets the tie neatly in place. ]

I don't do dress codes. I may or may not even be wearing pants.

[ The camera is focused on his upper body for just that reason. ]

At least the rooms are easy to navigate, although the rest of the ship leaves much to be desired. I wonder how many individuals get lost to it. You can skip the 'you can't leave' thing. I've seen movies, and this is all very science-fiction.

( Locked to Emily Thorne | 100% Encryption )

Em. I know you're here. Time to talk.

[hey everyone it's your favourite cocksure captain seated in his green Starfleet shirt to address you all]

To everyone still confused, welcome aboard the Tranquility, a colonization vessel located in an alternate universe to your own. My name is Jim Kirk and I'm sure I'm not the only person up here to wish we were meeting under better circumstances. As it stands, you'll be up here with us for a while, and because of that I highly recommend you stay informed. We've got plenty of reading material, but if you want a cliffnotes version, I'm happy to answer your questions.

[moving on, though, for the time being.]

Before the jump we discovered the genetics department. Passengers are not to go down there without clearance. The place is crawling with, for lack of a better word, monsters. These things are lethal. If you want some details as to what they'll do to you, I'm sure medical would be glad to give you the run down. For the time being, that area is considered off limits. Plans for clearing and extracting information from the department are already under way.

[even if Kirk isn't the captain, he says it as though there is no room for argument on this topic. Security plans on clearing out the monsters, if possible, and Cambridge has already made a call for those interested in information retrieval.]

Passengers should exercise caution when moving around the ship. Just last month we had an elevator malfunction that had people lost in the ship for at least a week. I can't stress enough that you need to keep in touch with one another, even if all you're doing is going to your department.

On that note, if you've just arrived and are looking to get involved, every department is looking for help. I head the Gunnery myself, and we're looking for individuals with previous weapons handling experience. If you're interested, give me a shout.


{ FILTERED TO ENGINEERING }
From what I gather, Isaac Clarke has gone missing as of the jump. [which he brings up because, up till now, Clarke was unofficially heading the department] Just checking to see how things are going down there.

{ PRIVATE TO TOPHER BRINK: KIRK ENCRYPTION 100% }
Brink, I need to speak with you regarding a patient that needs some tests run. Contact me when you've got a chance.


[the following links will blink to life on everyone's communicators and are accessible as text or audio.

• FAQ
  
• EXTENDED FAQ
  
• JOB LIST
  
• SHIFT ROSTER]

[ooc: and last but not least the new GUNNERY FAQ!!]

[ The video feed starts, and a young red-haired woman appears. She's outwardly calm and collected, but to some who might know her personally—or are just a little more observant—there is an edge of worry etched in her green eyes. ]


...So, from what I've gathered, this is obviously a spaceship, and we're all passengers on it. My name is Jesse Reeves, but I don't suppose that actually means anything to any of you listening.

But what I want to know is, why me? Why was I chosen for this? I'm... [ she laughs a bit, self-effacingly ] ...the farthest thing there is from a space traveler or astronaut. I'm really more of an indoor girl, you know, cooping myself up in a library and reading everything I can get my hands on, voraciously. I'm not a pioneer, I'm not a mechanic, I'm not even really very much of a survivalist, and I don't think I can really benefit from this kind of...extra-terrestrial experience.

So, if I could, I'd like to go home now. [ a soft clearing of her throat. ] Please.