[ when the video feed comes into view it's not the usual dynamic gunnery duo presenting. chris argent is standing just within view, arms crossed in front of him. making announcements to groups isn't anything new to him, though it's never been on a spaceship or based off of information from long range sensors. it’s certainly never been about a stolen shuttle. (he’s slowly, but sure, accepting that his life is an episode of star trek.) ]

Gunnery's long range sensors picked up what looks to be a colony nearby. It's fairly large and inside of an asteroid field. But that's not the interesting part. [ he pauses, turning to look at anderson. ] Anderson.

[ she is standing next to him, hands clasped behind her back and shoulders straight as usual. ] Our sensors also indicate that the shuttle that left the Tranquility and was up until now unaccounted for [ not counting that one network post of singing ] is there. Its exact flight path is unknown, but it reached the colony without any damage, as far as we can tell.

[ the implication being, obviously, that it may well be possible for other shuttles to replicate the result and make it to the colony as well. ]


( ooc: this lovely shade of pink is anderson. dark blue for chris. general discussion/threadjacking/etc encouraged! )

In India, there are villages where the people wear masks on the the backs of their heads, because tigers won't attack someone who is facing them. It's functional, and it's real, but you can take it as a metaphor. You face something that will eat you, and you do it by not turning away. By showing them your eyes.

Wolves are different. Wolves will attack something facing them, but not the way you think. It's a hunting tactic, you know. Wolves attack faces - that's just how to get an elk down, to bring it down by the nose. How do you even deal with something like that? You face it down and it aims for your nose. There's not even logic in that!

Frankly-

[There's a sigh]

Frankly, this place is getting to me. Tigers and wolves be damned. I didn't think anything was worse than a fifteen hour international flight into Chhatrapati Shivaji International Airport but apparently what's worst is a pleasure cruise to God knows where through the far reaches of space.

Man.

Fuck anything that attacks you by biting you on the nose.

By the way, who's taking care of all the farm animals in the O2 Gardens, and are you willing to trade for them?

[ the device is resting on a table, a distance from anderson and jax — far enough that both of them are in the picture. anderson’s posture is, as usual, straight; a soldier at ease. jax is slouching, flicking his lighter open and closed. he has a cigarette behind his ear but he doesn’t reach for it. he clears his throat, expectant, nudges her with his elbow. ]

Gonna talk to the good people, Pollyanna?

[ if the video wasn’t already on, anderson would comment on the use of the nickname in what is, essentially, a public service announcement. as it is, she just raises an eyebrow at him before turning back towards the device. ] We realise that the last jump was unpleasant for many of us. Sickness aside, however, our position is no less vulnerable now than it was before.

We asked before, but for those of you who are new, or those who missed it last time: Gunnery is responsible for the defense of the ship — which, regardless of how you may feel about it, is your current place of residence — against attacks, as well as for the maintenance of the armory. We offer weapons training, and I offer self-defense lessons as well.

You get your sea legs under you, you come down, talk to either of us. Can usually find one or the other kicking around Gunnery at any hour, and we don’t mind visitiors if you aren’t acting like an idiot.

[ after a moment to let that sink in, anderson reaches out and turns the device off. ]


[ red is jax, black is anderson.

ps please have a look at ataraxiongunnery if you're so inclined. pps theself-defense log is here, feel free to wander by ]

[ the connection turns on, abruptly and out of focus. the video is turned down at the floor but then it's up, whirling around in blurs of colors from her room before settling on teresa's face. her gaze is wide and worn, she looks tired. her neck is strained as if swallowing is difficult. ]

Okay. Tell me it's not just me. I'm seeing numbers — I mean, I was — like scratched into the wall. At first I thought they were just letters, but I think they could've been Roman numerals. Fifty-six. Or something. I couldn't look at it very long, I couldn't even record it. I — ugh!

Is anyone else seeing this? It's driving me crazy, I swear they were there. Someone better not be messing with me.

[ she's trying to work this out logically (find a code), like everything else since she arrived, but she's reaching a tipping point. ]

I don't know what it means. But if you're seeing the same thing, tell me. Maybe we can work it out. It's just —

[ she holds the communicator tightly in one hand, raking her black hair back with the other as she looks off into the corner of her room. the damage is still there, reminding her. ]

Well, the good news is my room isn't a freezer anymore.

[ lydia is sitting on her bed fiddling with what looks like a leash that isn't attached to the dog it's normally attached to. it almost looks like she's not paying attention to the feed being on before she looks up and smiles a tight sort of smile. ]

Assuming that more than just one or two people made it back from that really ill-advised trip to the bridge, I don't feel bad asking you all this question instead of crying about people dying. [ the smile becomes a little tighter then, like she already had cried before the jump. after a shake of her head it's gone like it was never there in the first place. ] Say you have powers at home and on this ship and they were working perfectly fine when you were at home and when you found your way on this ship.

[ she pauses, like she has to figure out how to word the rest of what she's saying before she continues. ]

Has anyone had their powers go from working perfectly fine on this ship to not working perfectly fine? Maybe even working in ways that are not even remotely how they're supposed to work in the slightest. I mean, it's a little weird and I'm looking for some perspective. Or a base to compare something to. [ she hastily adds: ] I'm not asking because of me. Mine— I'm just not asking because of me.

[ When the feed comes on, everything is in its place. The Comms device is set squarely on to a view of a desk, a large American flag hangs on its pole in the space behind Nathan, decked out in his best suit. A painting hangs on the wall behind him. This may be the last time he addresses the ship, in which case he’s going to do it right. ]

Good afternoon, Tranquility.

For those of you that don’t know me, my name is Nathan Petrelli. I arrived here on the sixth jump, and I’ve been working in Communications ever since. I was here when we all still reported to Resnik to keep the ship running, and I was here when Ward executed the prisoners we took from the Scylla. I’ve been here through most of the worst things that the Tranquility has thrown at us, and never once - not once, in almost two years - have I thought to stop cooperating with the whims of this damn ship.

That ends today.

At 0900 tomorrow morning I intend to take the Tranquility’s bridge. I make this post here, now, because this isn’t just about me, this concerns all of us. So, perhaps against my better judgement, it seems only right that those of the rest of you that are as restless as I am should have the opportunity to join me in this endeavor.

Some of you will call me crazy. You’ll think that makes you sane. You’ll call this mutinous. But let me ask you--how willing are you to carry on the way we have been so far? The distortions we see in the mirrors; the people that are watching; no longer just out of sight; our secrets, no longer secret; the weight of paranoia that is weighing all of us down, month after month. How long do you want this to go on without making a stand, without feeling like you’ve actually done something about it?

I don’t know that this is going to be safe. I don’t know if any of us are going to come back, and maybe some of the less morally indulgent types around here are gonna see it as good reason to lock us all away. I’d like to remind those people that in the absence of an actual captain, this isn’t really a mutiny. We can argue about it lawyer style if you like. Might as well, it might be the last argument we ever have. But please don’t feel as though you’ll alter my resolve.

We have to change what we’re doing. We have to make a stand. And you can shut your mouth right now, Neal Caffrey. I haven’t forgotten what you said; this is about weighing the risk.

[ At last Nathan takes a deliberate pause, steepled his hands in front of him. ]

If you’re going to volunteer, then please consider the risks. You may die. You may go mad. The rest of this crazy crew might decide to throw you into space. This isn’t a decision that you should be making quickly, but I’m sorry, this is all the time we’ve got. If you have even the slightest of doubts, you should stay behind.

Some of you--I know you’re gonna volunteer, and I reserve the right to veto your offers. You know who you are, and you have responsibilities. I’m not tearing apart the infrastructure of this ship if I can help it. Others...well, I need you where you are. Plan B.

Hopefully the next time I speak to you, it’ll be from Tranquility’s bridge. Be safe, and good luck to all of us. Petrelli out.


[ OOC: This is the corresponding network post to the volunteer sign up here on the OOC comm. If you don’t know what’s going on yet, then take a read through. ]

[the feed opens on a shot of (a slightly sweaty looking) isaac stood in one of the corridors of the ship. he isn't quite in the unexplored areas yet, but he's close. after spending the past month seeking out a certain familiar face from home (and failing so far), he's debating whether it's time to head further afield yet or not. it's the temperature changes that're the issue here, rather than the potential threats those corridors hold. what if it hits either extreme and he's stuck without supplies to combat it. what if the pack stuffed with sweaters isn't enough to keep him from freezing to death in the next cold patch]

So, engineering is too hot for anybody to head in, and some of the rooms here have ended up pretty cold. [UNDERSTATEMENT. though thanks again, hayley]

Are there any other places that've gotten too- [his sentence cuts off there suddenly, his attention shifting further down the hallway. fixing on something off-camera. taking a shaky breath, he glances back at his device briefly, debating whether or not he should be calling for derek now. but by the time his gaze if back down the corridor again, his reasons for the pause are over. whatever it was is gone.

there's another few moments of silence as he makes a move of his own, doubling back a little further in to the explored areas. a strategic retreat, for now]

...uh. Right. So, like I was asking, what's the likelihood of someone getting stuck somewhere that...I don't know. Burns them up or something?

[he may not have found anywhere like that yet, but that doesn't mean the possibility isn't there. but with that question out the way, isaac takes a moment to change the settings of the feed. to lock the rest of this from those from his world (and hayley/ric/jenna). it's a call he should have made weeks ago. months, even. but that hadn't been an option before. not with derek there helping him. now though-

when he speaks again, his voice is far quieter. he knows the others aren't going to take this well. that even though the people here from beacon hills may have never met the man, they undoubtedly know of him. the problem with going to a high school is that rumors spread far quicker than you'd expect.]

...dad, please. I know you're here.

[a pause, and a final-]

I'm sorry.

[because obviously he's staying hidden for a reason. considering just how their last conversation went, just how it ended up. it's with good reason. he just needs the man to understand that this time won't be a repeat. it can't. for all that went wrong, they're still family.

and with that, the connection is finally cut.]

[ jax is fiddling with his comm, tosses it down on the table after a moment while reaching for the cigarette tucked behind his ear. he looks subdued, shaky, but he visibly steadies himself. anderson is watching him, shoulders straight and expression calm. ]

Listen up, we got business to talk about. Anderson and me, we noticed gunnery needs bodies. Any of you who can shoot, think about stopping by. We could use you.

[ jax breaks off, ducking his head to light his cigarette. and with that introduction out of the way, anderson chimes in: ] If you can’t, but you would be willing to learn, we can teach you.

Never too late to learn your way around a gun, right? And Anderson here, she’ll teach you some self-defense hand-to-hand shit too, if you want.

[ she nods, confirming that. ] There seems to be a shortage in all departments, but if you are at all inclined to fight in order to protect not just yourself but others as well, stop by to talk to us. [ anderson is ever the idealist. jax snorts, blows out a stream of smoke. ]

Or if you just wanna learn to shoot, but you aren’t looking to join. We got nothing against giving some lessons. [ jax spins his lighter in his fingers, stops when he nearly drops it. he glances at anderson. ] You good?

[ smoking will kill you, anderson doesn’t say, raising her eyebrows. instead, she gives a sharp nod. ] Yes. [ and reaches over to the table to turn off the comm.

gunnery out, tranquility. ]

ooc | blue font is jax teller