[Static. Lots and lots of static. Not that it much matters, because at the start, Marty's just rambling about random shit. Stupid little stories from home; there are probably other voices from the brig muffled here and there in the background as he makes his way from the small crowd of mutineers to record what is probably going to be a swan song affair. He's never been very good about any of this. Or particularly graceful. Accepting death is easier for him than it maybe should be, but he's not exactly wanting to die. Again. So. There's that.]

░░░▒▒▓▓▒▒░░ --ad idea. Anyway, ░░░▒▒▓▓▒▒░░. Maybe I should just do some ░░░▒.

░░░▒▒▓▓▒▒▒▒▓▓▒▒░░

Story time? I guess. [A little laugh; maybe a crazy one? He's not sure. He's exhausted. And maybe a little high.] There was once a jester, was friends with a noble ragtag team ░░░░░ -- there was a knight and his fair medic. Super attractive couple, I'll admit I'm jealous there. There was a scholar, and then there was a foxy fair maiden. They all decided to leave their domain for a little ░░░▒▒▒░░, but they didn't realize that someone had followed them. Someone from a cult, people who... Well, they liked to sacrifice people to make the Gods happy. Because gods are always sadistic fucks in a lot of stories, right?? This one can go eat a ▓▓▓▓▓▓. Anyway... The jester noticed something was amiss when they arrived to their eden of rest. But unfortunately, the cult's undead minions -- killed the kindly medic, left the group ▓ in shock. Wasn't much later that the jester got his dumb ass impaled on a garden shovel. Who does that, right?

▓▓▓▓▓▓

Then... I mean, the jester didn't catalog a lot ▓▓it, but despite their best efforts, the remaining team couldn't leave. The cult had used ancient power to lock them all in a forcefield. ▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒ the knight was killed when he'd tried to find a way around it, and the scholar -- they got him, too. Eventually... it was just the fair minx of a maiden. Alone, with these -- these undead freaks. She fought so fucking hard, let me tell you. This maiden? She was secretly a warrior. She fucking survived.

[He smiles from behind the camera.]

Suddenly -- the jester! Holy crap, he's alive! You wouldn't even have guessed right? Scrawny little weirdo made it after all. ▒▒▒y bust through the zombies, find the cult's ancient lair, and descent with no where else to go. ▒▒▒▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▓▓▒▒░░ Monsters. The cult had monsters of all kinds, all lore, hidden in the depths in cages. They would use these monsters to kill unsuspecting sacrifices, year after year, and so... so the fair maiden had an idea. Attacked from all fuckin' sides, the maiden warrior released all the monsters from their cages, and the cult didn't stand a chance against their own ▒▒▒▓▓▒▒░░▒▒▒▒░░. 

They made it to the ritual room -- and met the asshole leader of ancients. She told them that....

[There's a long pause. A thoughtful, sad one, really.]

She didn't tell them anything. Because the fair maiden put an ax through her head, and they -- the two got out. Together.

[He snorts a little.]

They probably figured they'd go on another trip to space, I bet, but that'd be kind of outlandish, huh?

H▒▒▒▓▓▒▒░░▒▒▒▓▓▒▒▒▒▓▓▒▒░░░░░░░░░░░░... ░░░░░░

[The rest sort of fades into static off and on again.]

{Petrelli had suggested they record their goodbyes, but histrionics have never been her thing. If she's dying here, she's at least going to be damn sure someone can get some use out of it. The message is riddled with static, but where it isn't her tone is firm.]

You all know most of this already, but this is a report for anyone who wants the full details in addition to the new passengers who will arrive during the next jump: six days ago, sixteen passengers including myself a͠͏̶̀t̵̛͝t̵̸̛̀͏e̢̨̛͜͝ḿ̨̀͢͡p̶̡̧͜͜t̴́͠e̵d̶̡͘͟ ̷̀͜͞t̷͢͟o̸͡ ̷͘t̷͠a҉͠҉̵k̵͞͝͡ȩ̶̀̕͠ ̵̵p̕͡҉̴̶ơ͏̸͜s̸̨̧̧s̨͞e̷̴͟͡͞ś͞s̶̷͏̵í̢̨͘͞o̡͢͟ń̛͟͞͠ ̴̨̡̀͘o̷͠͠f̶̨͟ the bridge. We successfully accessed the deck, though the door sealed behind us. While on the bridge, we were unable to bypass the security encryption on the ship's controls; we also weren't able to determine if that was the doing o̶̶̧̡͡f̸̧͞͠ ̴҉҉͟͡ą̷͡͡͠ ̧̀͜͝t̕͝h͏̶̧͝i̸̡͜͝ŗ͟d̛̀͜ ̵͢͜͡ṕą̶̡r̢͞҉̷͡t̨͜ỳ̛͠ ̵ó̵̀r͟҉͠ ̸̶̨̕͠a̸̧͢ ̷͡f̸́͡l̢̛͢͠a̸͜w̧͢͟͠ in the system. [Though from the edge in her voice, it's pretty clear her money's on the former.]

Approximately-- [a moment of hesitation, because she's not even sure if this is close to accurate] --three days after being sealed on the deck, the state of the bridge had become n͏o̢͝͞t̵̶i̸̢͞c̀͏̕e̕͠a̷̷̛͘͡b҉̡́͝l̴̴̀͞y̶͟ ̕d̡͘͢ȩ͡t́͘e̡r͡͏̸̕҉i͏͏̴̀̕o̧͞҉r̢͞a̶̛t̡͝ę̶̶̧͜d̷̸̢́͠. Approximately four days after, passengers on the bridge b̷e͘͠g̵̨͢͢a̴̴̧̧̨n̡͡ ͏̛͟t̸̀́͘͟ǫ̀ ̛̕͠e͡҉x̸̀͡p̧̕͟͝e̡͜r͜͟i͢͏̴́ȩ͢͡͞͠ņ̶̢́̕c̷̷̨͞e̵͡ ̷͠p̸̵̡̡͝h͘͏̸̕y̸͏̴̶̛s̵̨͘i̷̢̧͢c̸͏̶͢͟a͏̧ļ͝ and visual d̸̡͞i̷͠s̴͜͠͏t̨͘ų̴̛̀r͘͠b̢a̶͢͜͡͡n̷̸̕ć̷è̢͡ś̷̨ ̷̨͢í͏ņ͟ć̢͘͠͡ĺ̸̛͝u͘͞d̵̨͘͟i͏͢͡ǹ̶̡ģ̛͠͡ murals similar to the ones seen elsewhere on the ship. The deterioration of the bridge seems to have been real, or at least a shared hallucination. The rest came and went at random intervals.

I can't guarantee that a second attempt to access the bridge would result in the same, but my official recommendation would be to avoid it until someone installs an escape hatch or puts together a p̧ŕ̴͜͠o̕͡g̷̸̷͠r̶҉͢a̵̸̡͜͞m̴̴̕͝ ̸̨̛͢t̷̨͞h̛̛͏҉̨a̛͡t̡̛͟ ̛͡͝c̡͜͏̵a̶̶̧͞͞n̶̢̕ ̸́b̵̴͠y͟p̷̧͜҉a̵̡s̴͏̸̛ş̢̨͘͟ ̴̶̨͡͞t̛̕͏̡h̵̢e̴̢̡͞ ̕͢͟s̶͢e̛͟͜c͘͠u͢r̵͘͘i̶̧͡t҉y͟͡͞ encryption. I'd also suggest a distraction somewhere else on the off chance that we're being d̶̵̀͢e̵̡͡͝͝t̴͞a̢̕͠ì҉̸̧n̛͞e̴̶d̵̶ ͘͘͠͏h̵̡e҉̸́ŗ̵҉e̶̷͞ ̷̴͢b̧̛y̧͘͡͝ a crew member and not a rogue a̶r̀́͜͡t̵̕i̴̵̛͞f҉̢i͢͜c̶̨í̵̕a̵̵̧l̴̵͏ ̨̕̕̕i̵̴n̵͞͡҉t̷́҉̶̢e̶l̢̀l̨̨͞҉i̕͝g̀͞҉͞͞e̵n̷̨̨̛c̛҉̀é̶́͢ ̶̵́̕͘i̸̷͘͢͝n҉̨ the ship itself.

[Speaking of AI--] Topher, since I have Juliana in here with me, you might want to consider the possibility of finding someone else with her expertise.

If there's anything I can clarify before the jump, ask. I'll do my best t̵̨̀̕͜ó̷͝ ̵̡̨g̨͠e̵͘t̷́͜ ̸̡͟͞a̷̡̢̛͡n̡̕͞s̸̷̢ẁ̢͝e͡҉̛̕r̛̀̀̀͡s̷̕͟͝ through.

[Which is all there is that's really worth saying though instead of cutting the feed entirely, she pauses. There's a hiss of static or an intake of breath. Javik is here with her, but Garrus, Joker, Tali--]

Good luck. The next time you see me, [some version of her, or him or however it works] I e̷͞x̶̷̛̛͟ṕ͜e͘͟c͏̷t̵͢ ̴̢͟͜a̷͢ ̷̸̡͏͘b̶̕͝͡͠ó̵̡̀͘t͏͠t̨̀͝͏̧l̛͠e͜҉̶҉͜ of ryncol.

[ The whole post is broken up by static, Rebecca's voice quiet, like she's speaking more to herself than to the network. They're not words anyone is going to want to hear, and she doesn't know most of the people on the ship; they're not words necessarily meant for them. But somehow, she feels like she has to share. ]

It's easy, killing. [ At least, in comparison to the other thing on her mind. ] People do it all the time. Maybe not most of the people here, maybe not on purpose -- but people do it. They kill to protect themselves, to eat, for a cause. They even do it on accident. How many times a day do you think you kill insects, back home -- without even trying? It's a lot, I bet.

Dying... that's hard. People are scared of it. People don't want to die; there's more they could do, things that they never got around to. Plenty of people die before their time, on accident or because something or someone killed them.

Dying for someone is the hardest, I think. It's easy to be selfish. It's easy to let someone else do it, to not act. It would have been so much easier for all of us not to walk into the bridge, to try and find things out. And yeah, we could have done a better job. But we didn't do it for no reason.

I'm not saying that, if we die, we died for all of you. I'm not saying that I want to die, for all of you or for one of you. But... if you think about it, later -- if we do die -- then maybe that's how you'll think of it.

[ A pause, then a slight laugh, broken up by static. ]

Or, you know, you call us stupid. Guess we deserve that, too.