[ 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.
[ 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.
[ Rough around the edges in an oil-stained jumpsuit with rolled up sleeves, Devon Resnik broadcasts from a darkened corridor—she sounds grim and looks even more frustrated, like this was the "I told you so" she didn't want coming. One hand reaches up to scratch the spot between her eyebrows. ]

We expanded your access because we thought you had the common sense to keep yourselves alive, not so you could cast off one another's warnings and dig yourselves an early grave. Everyone on this ship is aware of our smiling friend: what makes you want to chat up an anomalous transmission on the network?

[ Her hand drops, and she fixes the screen with a serious look. The frustration drains into her usual: flat, no bullshit. Just the facts. ]

Don't fool yourselves into believing that Van Rijn's people want to help you.

[ From behind her, a much more clean-cut figure with dark hair and broad shoulders approaches. As Resnik takes a half-step to the side of the frame to make room for him, Ward explains further, though his voice is no less flat. ] They want the Tranquility. They're going to try anything to get it, including making promises they can't keep. If you receive any messages from them, don't engage or antagonize. You have no idea what these people are capable of.

[ Resnik turns to glance at Ward over her shoulder, something wary in her eyes: it's met with an equally dour look in his. The look holds for a moment before she turns back to the terminal. ] Seems like we've lost them for now, but they're persistent. Report all communications with individuals identifying themselves as agents of Van Rijn immediately.

[ With those orders stated, she cuts the feed. ]

[ OOC NOTE ▒ Direct your comments to either Resnik or Ward by specifying their name in the subject line. Comments without a name in the subject line will be treated as a question for both. ]
[ Feed: on. The familiar sight of Ward and Resnik on the bridge begins broadcasting on the network, lights from the nearby consoles tinging their faces blue in the dull light. In contrast from their last post, they both look steady, alert, and well-rested.

Resnik is closest to the camera, her arms folded. Ward, by contrast, is behind and to the left of her, half-hidden in the shadows. She begins:

We'll keep this short. Within the next 24 hours, we'll be arriving at Strela outpost. The five shuttles that have been repaired have been pre-programmed to dock safely at the station, so those of you who'd like to come on shore leave, now's your chance.

[ Ward walks up behind her, seemingly to check a console to the feed's right. ] We'll be there a few days. Resnik and I will restock the ship's stores, and you can stretch your legs. [ His eyes flick to the camera. ]

Meet us at the shuttle bay tomorrow at 1200 hours. We'll proceed from there.

OOC NOTE ▒ Direct your comments to either Ward or Resnik by placing their name in the subject line, along with the type of return transmission (video, audio, or text). Comments without a specific name in the subject line will be treated as a question directed to the both of them.
[ Hotspur's never been brilliant at encryptions and, to be fair to the man, he's having to encyrpt and transmit the message whilst moving. Moving with a purpose, too; behind the stammered words of the transmission there's the sound of booted feet against metal as he strides his way along the corridors in the direction of the Tranquility's bridge. ]


Sir, ma'am - I've found something. [ And he doesn't sound particularly pleased about it, either. Behind his breathless words there's a world of worry and confusion; minor crises of faith aside, Hotspur isn't usually all that easily ruffled. ] I think - I think it's really important. Can we talk?

[ A pause as Hotspur's grip briefly tightens on what he carries in his hands: a blackbox device, salvaged from one of the shuttles. Despite his words he knows it isn't a matter of 'think'; he's convinced it's important. ]

we might have a problem.

[ normally tony wouldn't bring this up at all, but creepy red smile thing is really fucking creepy and this is some shit out of a horror film. ]

not a demon problem, because unless i'm wrong winchester and the angel thing have that dealt with. was going to mention this before that came up, but not all of us can split our attention between two things. actually most of you can't.

right, though, problem of the ship variety.

[ and then an attachment entitled i am a smile and i am creepy is sent to everyone's device. ]

i know what you're going to say, tony you made the creepy smiling thing mad. you're going to get us all killed. no, i'm not. what i did was discover something kind of important. the good ship tranquility is watching us. and as much as i'm cool with being watched, kind of want to know who the fuck is watching me on this huge ship. weirdly enough.

stark encryption 100% | to aberdeen and natasha romanoff )

stark encryption 100% | to ward and resnik )
[ Two familiar faces flicker to life in video. This’ll be short and what passes for sweet; they don’t have time enough to do anything else. ]

We’ll be stopping at Tansei Station in about an hour.

[ A sigh. Now, the other part. ] Unfortunately, the ship’s too big to dock at that station safely—we’ll need to dock with a shuttle. There’s only one working at the moment, and we’re taking it.

We apologize. That’s just the way things are. [ They can't fit all of you on it, and they're not playing favorites. ]

In addition to fuel, we’ll be stocking our food stores with meat and dairy products, plus a few other things. We’re also taking requests for personal items. We’ll get what we can, but we can’t promise anything; just tell us what you want and we'll see if we can get it. [ Within reason. ]

Try not to break anything while we’re gone.

OOC NOTE ▒ Direct your comments to either Ward or Resnik by placing their name in the subject line, along with the type of return transmission (video, audio, or text). Comments without a specific name in the subject line will be treated as a question directed to the both of them.
15 December 2011 @ 11:05 pm
[Jim's in engineering, you can see the room behind where he sits. he looks a little tired, but his eyes are as bright as ever as he looks into the camera.]

Hey all, Kirk here.

We've been up here for about a week, ship's time, which probably seems like forever and no time at all for most of you. Trust me when I say that probably won't change much. I know a lot of you are still panicking, but we need to keep in mind that the only way we're going to get out of this situation safely is by staying calm.

Anyone still adjusting to their human body should remember to stop by medical. A week is more than long enough to mess yourself up, even if you know what you're doing. [his tone says, trust me, i've been there.]

If the internal clock is anything to go by, we'll arrive at Tansei Station in about 12 days. I know we don't have much with us, but if you're thinking you need something, you might want to consider what you can barter when we get there. There's no telling when our next chance at shore leave will happen again.

[here, Jim glances away, keying something in, and anyone who expressed interest to Resnik and Ward in their broadcast concerning data collection will get a ping before he goes on.]

> open broadcast > attn $data collection team/$resnik/$ward

I've managed to get the chronometer back online, but she won't give me anything outside of a 24 hour count. [so no stardates or the equivalent thereof.] I've been trying to pull up a map of this place for the passed 78 hours but it's like the damn thing never existed in the first place. I'm starting to wonder if a blueprint was even put in the databanks.

to: $spock | text | encryption 100% )

to: $scienceAteam (spock, capa, connor, holmes, watson, chase) | text | encryption 100% )
13 December 2011 @ 08:22 pm
[ What up, Tranquility. There's a man on your video feed looking pretty damn tired, despite appearing (and acting) otherwise cheerful. Ohhhhh boy, it's been awhile since he's done his Temple TV stuff, but this is. Basically the same. Right? Okay. Just do it. ]

Hi. Connor Temple here. So, starting off, aside from the whole spaceship thing, I wanted to see how everyone's doing. Being lonely's pretty horrible, and if anyone's a bit under the weather, I know how you feel. Might do a film night, actually. There's gotta be some quality material in the media libraries—I haven't checked or anything, but some popcorn and a top 10 list shouldn't be too hard to find. So. Might be nice.

Moving on—I'm pretty good with technology, so if any of you need anything of yours fixed, I'd be happy to help. Otherwise, I'll be in the engineering department, on... well, some level for now, not sure which. So just give me a call if you need me, number zero-zero-one, zero-two-six, and I'll come running.

Okay, now everyone can ignore this next part. It won't apply to you. Unless your name is Abby Maitland. Then it will definitely apply.

[ Connor pauses for a moment, then speaks. His voice slides up a tiny bit in pitch when he does, hopeful and searching; he's looked for Abby, of course, scoured the medbay and passenger rooms within an inch of their lives—but he knows Abby's a smart woman, and she'd have made herself known if she was actually here. One more thing left for him to do, then. And that's ask the entire network. ]

So—if your name is Abby—you there?

[ There's wait of maybe thirty seconds. His eyes dart to the side, as if listening. No answer.

Not like he expected one. 8(

Worth a shot. Back to your regularly scheduled network program.

[ W e l p. Weak salute. That wasn't too bad, but he looks pretty crestfallen. Ughhhh, feelings. TIME TO BURY THEM IN WORK. Which brings him to... ]

> to: $ward / $resnik | TEMPLE encryption | 100%  )
[ There's small click as the feed begins transmitting. Nothing shows up except staticky black, but there are muffled noises in the background that faintly resolve themselves into hurried words—two voices, one male, one female, pitched low. ]

—id this—

ell is goin—

[ . . . ]

—et’s just … over with.

[ There’s a noise that might either be a sigh or a quick burst of static. ] Fine.