[Shepard looks terse, just a little short tempered. She has bigger fish to fry right now, but taking the occasional potshot? Sure, there's time in the day for that.]

I know it feels a little warmer in here, [south of the equator natives holla!] but are we really thinking it's Christmas? As far as I knew, we're pretty scattered across the board when it comes to our personal timelines and it's not like anyone's counting how long we're in stasis during the jump.

I'm calling it now: it's really new Armistice Day. I know most of you don't know anything about the First Contact War, but I hope you'll take this opportunity to remember those who fought for you in whatever universe you come from.

[Talilock, encrypted like whoa]
Garrus, I have a job for you.

Good day. My name is Miles Edgeworth; I am with the Security team. As ever, I would like to request that any new arrivals with expertise in law enforcement, the military, or combat contact me to discuss potential employment.

[He would also like to request that all you dicks stop talking about The Worst Holiday Ever, thanks. And he would like to distract you from it with this:]

I should like, also, to discuss our backgrounds. I have done this in the past, I will grant, and as such I beg a bit of patience from those who have previously seen such questions. Nevertheless, I believe that discovering the commonalities amongst us will assist in the uncovering of the reason why we were brought here; more, a general census will, I think, assist in preventing people from falling through the cracks, as it were.

[And it will GET YOU BASTARDS TO SHUT UP ABOUT CHRISTMAS FOR FIFTEEN GODDAMN SECONDS]

I have attached a text document. Kindly open this document, fill it out, and submit it to me. Note that number five is quite optional, but an answer would be appreciated and potentially quite helpful.

( survey.doc )

[Thranduil is sitting stiffly against a tree almost like it's his own throne. Most people who've seen him have seen him grumpy. He is not grumpy now. He is pissed.]

In all things I have tried to show patience. [His voice is dripping with ice.] I have lent my aid and resources to this ship, I have offered my hospitality and friendship and asked nothing in return, and what has happened? I have been robbed.

[His lip curls in a slight snarl.]

One of you took from me a precious necklace, a gift to me from a friend I am unlikely to see again. It is silver with pearls and diamonds and was wrapped in a cloth and hidden from sight. If you return it to me, I will be merciful and no charges will be pressed. If you do not, I have many eyes aboard this ship. It will be found.

[The feed cuts off.]

[ Erik does not introduce himself, but appears hard-faced and grim on the readout. He does not smile; his eyes (an affable blue) are set dead on the camera at an apathetic remove. The lines around them are matter-of-fact. They look like they’ve been there for years. ]

For those of you with a ‘gift,’ who rely upon -- or even value -- the courtesy and discretion of their peers in keeping such matters beneath the radar,

[ there is a distinct clink and slosh when he reaches out of frame to tip an invisible bottle over an invisible glass ]

I advise you to think twice before placing your faith in my erstwhile colleague.

He is passionate, but not always in possession of the best judgment.

[ A wind upward at the corner of his mouth fails to reach his eyes. ]

This message has been brought to you by ‘Magneto,’ and half a bottle of chardonnay.

[ The video cuts out before his voice does. ]

Enjoy your stay.