This is Shepard. Further investigation into the empathetic connections, etc. seems to suggest consistent results throughout, with strength increasing in--

[ Crash. Shepard looks up, alarmed, then swears under her breath. ]

Hold on. [ She sets the comm device down, then calls out: ] Hey! That isn't for you to eat! ... Ah, shit. [ More grumbling, then a strange, definitively alien, bark-like cry. ] Going to have to get that replaced. [ Beat; cue thumping that increases in volume. ] Wait a second--

[ The device tumbles from its surface, seemingly held in the mouth of something that breathes loudly as it runs laps around the small room. With a few more curses, the redhead commander can be seen in flashes trying to get it back, then manages to tackle the offender with a series of struggling grunts.

Finally, Shepard again. She looks wearied and apologetic. ]

Sorry. I was going to say, with strength increasing in the manifestations, especially. Though, I'd guess it's equal across the board with these new abilities. Can't say for sure. If you've got more experience with the others, the... memories and telepathy, I'd like to hear about it.

[ She gives a few of the creature behind her, who is tearing her pillow to shreds. ]

It's a Varren. Should be harmless, but I'll keep him in here in case he gets hungry, and... uh, violent.

[ The Varren in question yips happily, clearly pleased with itself. ]

Shepard out.

Tests conducted on blood samples taken from the prisoner quarters have identified DNA previously isolated in samples taken from gurneys in the labs.

[ No hello, no good evening, Tranquility. Erik delivers the news with flat affect, leaned lazily off center in his seat. He’s wearing a white lab coat, one eye masked blind behind a patch and the other set dead on the comms device. Speaking of blood, the fingerprints smudged into his lapel are a familiar shade of reddish brown, for those who’ve been on board long enough to ruin a shirt or two.

He doesn’t look happy to be here. These days he rarely looks happy to be anywhere. ]

[ And Charles is here too, his own comms device sat in front of him and transmitting nothing, fingertips occasionally tapping the screen in favour of shuffling around paper notes.

He also isn't happy to be here, but he combed his hair and everything. His lab coat is clean. ]

The gurneys, along with reinforced cages, appeared on level two of the science department several months ago. Relics, perhaps, of the genetics lab that came before. As for the samples themselves, they contained evidence of human and animal hybridisation.

The blood stains also possessed inactive nanites, which meant I wasn't able to identify them definitively using the nanite technology that's been made available. However, I took some micrographs, and compared them with micrographs taken previously, and they were visually identical to active nanites with programming functions like [ and you can hear the disdainful air quotes as he reads it off his device ] "manticore advancement" and "manticore adaptation".

The manticores were prisoners. They were moulded by Van Rijn’s scientists.

[ Erik is more concise. He seems to be having some trouble separating his teeth. ]

Naturally Eszter has been mum on the subject of interplanetary conquest.

More vocal on the topic of saving the human race as she knows it. [ Somehow, Charles' input doesn't really undermine what Erik just said. He elaborates; ] I believe that what went on in the science department was kept a secret -- the majority of the original crew had no idea what was happening. They believed the Tranquility was their salvation and hope. I was able to get-- this impression from Charlotte Danaiu. What she knows is rather limited, but what she has access to knowing is. Greater.

[ This isn't Charles' favourite part, because it feels beyond his usual abstraction. He manages not to glance at Erik. ]

The presence I've talked about taking root in the ship, that has access to our minds, that has abilities we've begun to tap into-- upon talking to Charlotte, and reading her mind, I received the impression that it came here on account of the manticore experiments. I don't know how, or what it wanted, and I also know that no one on the ship intended it to happen, but-- it's what I think Resnik meant, when she talked about retribution for their sins. Something about what they were doing brought it about.

[ And he finishes there, not so eloquently, but unsure how to talk about it much further. ]

We’ve decided to call it Moira.

[ Also eloquent. Erik picks up again before Charles can interrupt with more than just a 'seriously?' side along glance: ]

We’ve consolidated what we know about it and the humans we’ve encountered from this universe into a table anyone can update. I’m attaching a link to the file to this transmission.

The aim is transparency and education. We should all be on the same page.

[ He leans forward to disengage the device, filling the frame. ]

Thank you.

[ OOC: Erik is maroon, dark green is Charles. FILE LINK - this is an IC document, feel free to contribute with IC knowledge and experiences. Characters need not feel obligated to identify themselves when making entries. ]

[ All right, here is an effort in futility. She takes in a deep breath before turning it to video and giving a very thin smile. ]

Hi there. I'm pretty sure that I'm not going to get any new answers, but I thought I would try. I'm Specialist Samantha Traynor of the Systems Alliance, currently under Commander Shepard of the Normandy. Does that... mean anything to anyone here?

[ Shepard and the Normandy are well-known, galaxy wide. But she could see some people not knowing... If they are blind, deaf, or dumb. Regardless, the Systems Alliance at least should get some raised hands--she hoped. Hoped in the bland way of not really expecting anything but open to being surprised. ]

Otherwise. Thanks... to the people who have put together some explanations. It doesn't answer all of my questions, but it's a start.

[Rey is looking significantly different now than most have seen her prior to the jump. For one, her hair is much shorter, almost pixie-ish, but not so much as cut as it has been growing back. While she has an array of new scars, the most notable one right now would be a nasty-looking horizontal gash across her throat that resembles a knife blade.

[Other than that, she looks no more worse for wear than her last public appearance. But she's not really here to talk about her harsher mien.]

"Other people saw it, right? Outside of the pods at the jump?

"Seems that it's been watching us for a long time."

[She looks away briefly, biting the inside of her cheek, and then back to the screen.]

"Whatever is happening to us, this connection we share... Perhaps it's supposed to help us fight it. Not sure how yet, but if it wants us alone and it can't control us to the point where we have it scared, it'd be nice to think that we've been given more of a fighting chance than the old crew ever had." [Hey, she's at least trying to be optimistic here.] "So maybe we should be learning how to control our link, rather than resist it."

['The clock has stopped.' 'It means the path planned for you is gone now.']

[Taking a deep breath, her eyes close. When they reopen, her expression changes. Even her voice is different when she speaks; suddenly hardened by fortitude.]

"Don't know about you, but I say fuck it. I plan on taking my own path."

[ 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.

"Recently, you've all been told that there is a traitor.

"So you should probably know what it was I did."

[She pauses, searching for the words while she lets that sink in for a heavy moment. One might note that her tones are different; she doesn't sound like her usual robotic self when she speaks. Quite the opposite, actually. Rey sounds almost like-human. In her own way, you could say that this her one big "fuck you" to Smiley. You think she wouldn't tell everyone? Well, now she is. Full disclosure. So there.]

"I entered the dark corridors shortly after the DUPRR crew had docked the ship. Before long it became apparent that the things infesting the hallways weren't approaching me with any hostility. Because they weren't attacking, I was able to reach the secondary shuttle bay more or less without much incident. During that trek I made an effort to avoid others, not knowing the extent of the compulsion and whether it would also drive me to harm anyone who stood in the way." [Well, it's mostly the truth she speaks. You're welcome, William.]

"All that remained was the DUPRR pilot, Neson. Needing his trust, I tricked him into coming with me by pretending to be a person who was trustworthy. It's something I've become rather good at, actually -- pretending to be someone else, much like how I am right now. Despite the fact that something wanted me to kill this man, I decided to will against it.

"It didn't work as intended.

"Instead, I took him to the White Room. I opened the door. And I led him through.

"He's likely still in there right now, where it's kept him."

[She stops, still dizzied from the jump. The more she speaks, the more hoarse her voice gets. She hasn't been using it that much lately, and it's clear from her shadowed eyes and worn features that she's been neglecting more than just sharing this information.]

"Apparently, doing this has-- 'stopped the clock', whatever that means.

"For what it's worth, I'm sorry."

[John turns on voice because he looks too much like a wreck to turn it on video. He's fine. His voice doesn't even sound too bad.]

I'm alive. Dealing with shit. Not the point of this.

I'm struggling with nightmares and insomnia. If someone would be willing to help me with that, I can pay you back somehow.

I also need some clothes patched up, if anyone's good at sewing.

[He's about to leave it like that, just quick and business-like, but he sighs, continuing.] You know, my mom was a good person. So was my dad. He was a cop, and he always fought for justice and the right thing, and he's the reason I'm a cop myself. Sometimes whoever or whatever's in charge gives us horrible things in our lockers. But sometimes... sometimes, it leaves nice things.

[He flips on video for a second, and all that's visible are his fingers holding up a photo. The photo has a woman and a man with a small boy, all smiling. Yes, that's John's family. And yes, John looked like a dork as a child. His hands move a little, but just to turn it back to voice.] Tell me about your families, if you'd like.

[ The monthly jumps leave a lot to be desired with their whole premise of death, tiny pods, throat-tubes, and goo explosions. That's undeniable. But the usually-adaptable Shepard seems a little more troubled than usual as she addresses the network, red brows knit in concern, the origin of which becomes clear when she speaks: ]

Has anyone seen Dr. Liara T'soni? I didn't catch her at the jump, and I think--

[ She hesitates, jaw clenched, eyes betraying regret. ]

Just to bring it to the attention of the Xeno department; I think she might be gone. I'm not sure, but if she didn't come through with the rest of us, then you're going to be one scientist short.

[ One blue, brilliant archaeologist. ]

That's what it means, right? ... Dammit. [ Shepard mutters, glancing away. ]

[the feed opens on a shot of a half empty bottle of tranquility brand ~space whiskey. along with another empty bottle lying on its side beside it. to anyone familiar with the bars on the ship, it may be possible to recognize the fact that the feed is coming from the wrong side of the bar. that inside of being sat beside it, he's instead stood on the inside of the counter. (easier access to the alcohol. and considering there's no bartender, it made more sense to him. it did take an entire liquor store last time).]

Solpeth.

[…okay, whoops. there's a pause; time spent squinting down at the device. he's making a call to the network, so maybe it'd be a good idea if he laid off the "dead" languages. when he speaks again, there's a weight to his words that comes largely from having to focus so hard on what he's saying. on making sure that he's actually using the words he wants to use.]

There are games I have seen humans play before. Ones that involve drinking copious amounts of alcohol for amusement.

[there's another pause then. one that's only interrupted with the sound of a drink being poured in to a glass. far more than a single shot. it's gone moments later; swallowed easily, and with very little impact on his current state.]

Show me.

[what are manners? look, he has other priorities right now.]

"People tend to believe in something, whether it's gods, a god, some sort of afterlife or nothing at all. Nothing can be something, can't it?

"In any case, the belief in the soul and that it goes somewhere after the body dies has surprisingly been a subject of interest these last few years. Is the soul a thing that is natural, and can it be created out of something that is unnatural?

"What happens to the vessel once it's no longer occupied by whatever makes you you?"

['You are a vessel. You are born to die.' Those were among the first words she's ever heard, and yet the connotation behind them are unsettling for her now.]

"Is there any place like a Heaven or a Hell for a thing that's not born but made by a person, or is it more likely that we just disappear entirely once the vessel dies?"

[Death had never been a scary prospect for her before. Not when she had something that she wanted to live and die for. She almost misses being empty, when she didn't have to worry about the things she would leave in the likely events of her eventual demise. Everything has an expiration date, after all.

[DEEP THOUGHTS coming from the lounge with booze.]

I heard-

[There is a nervous, jittery pause. Actually, if anyone is listening closely, those first two words? They were pretty nervous and jittery, too. Clearly something has rattled Annie, something that she is not saying.]

-I heard-

[Try again, try again.]

I heard something. In the darkened corridors, well, not precisely in them, because I don't go in there, but it sounded like something moving-

Someone, please say, I'm not going mad. I went to look and I saw some lights begin to come on, and then I left, because-

Well.

I think everyone here knows why.

I have been thinking.

[Eponine avoids looking into the camera, favoring, instead, to look beyond it.]

After the events of the previous jump... For those of us who are dead where we come from. Here, are we... undead? For we have come back to life here.

If so, why are we different from the zombie dudes? I wore rags, too, once, and was nothing more than flesh and bones. [She's gained weight here, becoming healthier, from her gaunt looks before.]

Yet I breathe.

[ jax’s hair is still wet and dripping, but he’s made it down to gunnery, has his comm in his lap, hoodie over the back of his seat. he’s lighting up a cigarette, lets it dangling from his lip as he stows his lighter away. ]

Looks like another batch of new arrivals, right? Everyone make it okay?

[ as flippant as it sounds, it’s a genuine question. jax pauses a minute, then drags a hand back through his wet hair as he continues speaking. ]

I’m betting someone’s gonna post up the How-To guide any minute now, but for now you’ll have to make do with the informal shit.

[ and you can’t really get any more informal than jax, who tips his head back to blow a smoke ring, buy himself some time before he starts speaking. ]

I’m Jax Teller, I’m the CGO and if you got interest in lending a hand down in Gunnery, come down and see me. You got interest in any of the other shit, Sciences or Engineering or Flight or running Security for this barge, speak up, someone’ll point you in the right direction. We’re all about lending a hand these days. [ jax grins around his cigarette, lifts a hand to lift it away as he exhales a stream of smoke. ] Other than that, you’re in space, yeah. Don’t do anything stupid, read the Survival Guide, and you’ll be fine.

[ for a given definition of fine, anyway. which jax is clearly aware of, flashing a grim smile at the camera, flicking ash from the tip of his cigarette as he tacks on-- ]

And if you want smokes, talk to Ned.

[ at which point jax snickers to himself, then hangs up. teller out. ]

[Liara had taken her time to get familiar with the most immediate areas of the ship before deciding to ask questions, choosing to get her bearings and do some firsthand investigation first and foremost. She hadn’t gone terribly far, not yet, but so far it had become clear to her that wherever this ship was bound, no one she’d spoken to seemed terribly familiar with any of the planets, galaxies or major trade routes she had mentioned, nor had anyone but Shepard shown any knowledge of mass effect relays. That alone raised countless questions, even more than had already come to mind since she’d awakened in the medical bay.

First things first. She needed to find a niche here, a way to be useful, play to her strengths.]

Pardon the intrusion-- my name is Dr. Liara T’soni, though I’m certain that this place sees so many new arrivals, committing names and faces to memory must be quite an undertaking.

[She smiles faintly. She can only imagine how exhausting it must be, seeing so many people come and go.]

I’m interested in speaking to someone about assisting in the science department, particularly xenobiotics and genetics, though I’m uncertain of who, precisely, I should contact.

[The communicator is quite different from the omni-tool interface she’s become so accustomed to over the course of decades, and juggling everything on a tiny screen as opposted to projections is more trying than she’d like to admit.]

Aside from that, if there is anything that anyone on board would be willing to share with me about planets they may have visited during their time with the Tranquility, I would greatly appreciate it. I’m curious to see if I might be able to draw parallels or find some kind of connection between these worlds and the systems I’m familiar with. Thank you for your time, should you choose to give it.

[That said, she gives another smile, warmer than the first, and the feed ends.]

[ 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. ]

Boy, that was a close one! That gas formation was a clever trick.

Hello there.

I know I've already spoken to some of you—I had hoped to do this individually—but it appears we need to move things along more quickly than we'd realized. That ship of yours seems eager to shake us, and we simply can't let that happen.

My name is Lina Barnez. The rest of the team and I have been working on contacting the Tranquility for some time. Unfortunately, our tech isn't perfectly compatible with what you're running on. It hasn't been easy, but we're managing. I don't know how long we'll have.

We're here to help you, but in order to do that, we'll need you to help us. You've been through a lot on this ship: it's a miracle so many of you are still with us. We'd like to make sure you stay that way, but we can only do that if you're completely honest with us.

We know about the events on Strela, the Cyllene and Arima, as well as the Scylla. What happened to those poor people was not your fault, and you have my word that we have no plans to hold you responsible for those events.

But we need to work together to make sure it doesn't happen again. The more you tell us about what's been going on aboard the Tranquility, the more we can do.

[ NOTE: All conversations will be cut off before too long by the engines suddenly powering back up, and the jump alarm sounding to alert characters to proceed to medbay immediately. ]