Round two, huh.

[ The words are muttered, not realizing it's on yet, and they’re followed by a brief burst of static -- he’s fiddling with the device, trying to figure out how to send out a message. A couple of taps, and it clicks on. At least this is better than those seals. ]

--there we go. Right. If there are any UNSC personnel within range, respond on this frequency immediately. On a secure channel, if you’ve got it.

[ It’s probably a long shot, not that he wants to admit it. There’s no guarantees anyone he knows will be here, much less those he wants to find -- he’s already searched the system for any trace of York or One and come up short.

Still. A pause, and his voice lowers a little, though it’s no less firm than before. ]

--And if you’ve seen anyone with a bad eye, just... let me know.

[It didn't take too long for Hilda to figure out how to work the communicator; it was bulkier, more like those vintage cell phones than the communicators she was used to, but if it was anything like a computer, she could figure it out. Putting her priorities in order, the first thing on the list: make sure the crew of the IXGP weren't also in this mess.]

Gene, Melfina, Jim, Gilliam: if you're here and can see this, respond.

[It's short and sweet. Revealing any more might compromise the ships and its secrets to the rest of the network. Now, article number two. Hilda's face falls into a stern expression; her yellow eyes focus at the camera like daggers.]

I need straight answers. Why the hell am I still alive? No ship exists that can resist the gravity sink of a sun long enough to rescue someone already pulled into it.

[ GOOD DAY TRANQUILITY. The screen flickers on to show a rather attractive albeit very naked Frenchman holding up one of the standard issue jumpsuits. ]

All right. Fine, I am obviously far away from home. I cannot feel the strong connection to my people, and the air tastes like metal. That is not my biggest concern. My biggest concern, to whomever put me here, is what am I to do with these? [ He shakes the jumpsuit in his hand, the material flopping over his wrist. ]

I will not wear it. I can not wear it. The colour is agreeable but the general design? It is worse than someone Chine would come up with. [ The jumpsuit is dropped and the video is moved to offer a little decency. At least now, the current inhabitants of the ship can only see him from the extremely hairy chest up. ]

So then, my question is this: is there any material in this place I may use to craft a new outfit? I will not wear clothes until then. [ And then a smile, a brilliant smile, one he's practiced many times and seems to walk the border of charming and creepy. ]

Aaa, and I should introduce myself, to any and all who may be listening: I am France, the country of romance, of love, of desire. I like to go on strike and make food for people! Perhaps if one of you would help me, I could help you in return? [ He doesn't really know how to use technology, so after a bit of fumbling and him jabbing at random things, the video finally ceases. ]