{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.

[A burst of static opens the contact, then followed by the image of a woman with dark hair pulled back into a ponytail. She half-smiles as she leans on a wall, a wall she swears was trying to disintegrate not a moment ago. The little issues with the bridge are beginning to gnaw at the edges of her senses here and there, but her main problem is the condition she has. Rampancy. The deterioration of function and logic in an elderly AI. And all this overstimulation is starting to make it worse, to push her into places she thought she could hold off.]

It's loud, and it's small. No, it's big. Very strange in here.

[The feed ends. Later, another message is sent, her voice higher, more strained. Fear, anger.]

I only had the best of intentions. I wanted to do to them what they've done to us because I can't take it anymore and you shouldn't help me because what if they do it to you, too? No, don't. Don't tell them who you are. It's them and they know. They have the weapons, we don't.

[There's a loud sigh, and another burst of static distorts the image, and the feed ends. A few minutes later, it begins again, her voice calm, face placid. Sometimes she thinks she can control it. Sometimes she can. But sometimes it sends her to dark and dangerous places.]

The human mind is fragile, fragile like mine, it sort of... there's a hum, a buzz, static in my head and I can't process everything. Did you know I can think myself into nothing? I can. I probably should. It's too hard to do this, too loud, too much to want to know and not be able to think about because thinking hurts.

Pain is strange.

[A lengthy silence, filled with lines and static. Her voice is flat, as though she's merely curious.]

Am I going to die again?

[ 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. ]

Hello, Tranquility! [Have a wave and a gentle smile, befitting the goddess she totally thinks she is.]

I hope you're not having too much trouble with the temperature and all of that. It's been a little strange for a while, hasn't it? I don't like it any more than anyone, but making the best of it is the only way to do things. We will persevere!

Now. Ignoring everything that is, overall, serious and pressing, I have a question. A survey, if you will. It was recommended to me that I... Let's try to put this delicately so I don't upset anyone... That I might be interested in certain activities of an intimate nature. [She waves her hands about; don't judge too quickly!] I have no opinion on this. I was wondering if anyone did, however.

Where I come from, my people usually reserved that for relationships, and procreation. However, you all may have different outlooks. Would you mind sharing your opinions? I promise I won't tell a soul. I'm primarily curious about the incidence of one-night stands versus those of you who are in committed relationships. While this is a very private matter, this is for the purposes of research. Think of it like an exchange program. I wasn't human, after all.

Oh, dear. I'm sure someone's asked this before; it's a terribly interesting topic. Still, indulge me, won't you? I have nothing else to do.

[Juliana... Missing the bigger picture in favor of being in her own set of rules, as always.]

[Joker has had enough alcohol and pain killers -yes mixed what do you wanna fight about it- to actually consider voluntarily speaking to people.]

Hey. Bored people.

What're your feelings on AIs?

( nothing about what's happened since nuala made her choice makes a great deal of sense to her. she lives, inexplicably, but there is a wound in her where once her brother was; a hollowness she can't account for, in point of fact the very opposite of what she might have imagined her afterlife to consist of. dressed in strange clothes and adrift in a place even stranger than the BPRD's headquarters, handling truly peculiar technology--

--it is all very small, in the wake of that most important detail. it is, however, a sort of smallness that permits her anything else to think on while she gathers herself enough to, perhaps, investigate its cause. her first contribution to the comms network is therefore simultaneously accidental and very much with purpose: a period of audio recording where nothing much seems to be happening, video of Nuala's hands as she turns the device over several times, of her face as she examines it. audio, again-- an exasperated sigh, a little jostle, and then a startled vocalization followed by a bit of scrambling, and then, finally--

Nuala, having at some point prior to this transmission found her way to the room she's been allocated, looks composed of nothing but determination to be composed. )

Hello.

( ...and patience. she has that, too, in great stores. this is a device for communication. someone is going to communicate with her. eventually, this will begin to make sense again. )

[hello everyone! she waves a little awkwardly, all blue and tattoos on her hands and down her arms, even as she shifts a little with a cheery smile.]

Wasn't there a story in Earth literature, in the 1800s about a man that fell asleep for 20 years? He slept through all of these landmarks in history and his own life. I suppose I exaggerate, but I am pretty sure the sentiment is the same. [a beat; sleeping is for organics and she's never "slept".]

I was hoping if you could help, it's sort of a long shot but ... I'm wondering if someone might have been brought here while I was asleep? He's 7'2, wears heavy armor bearing the insignia of an eagle and the letters UNSC and answers to Master Chief Petty Officer Spartan-117.

[he shouldn't be here, but she's been monitoring everything before she went into stasis, she doesn't want him to slip through the cracks- she can breathe easier once she realizes that he hasn't shown up.]

If he's out there, and he doesn't see this, tell him Cortana is looking for him.

[for a moment, it drops as she looks to the ground before looking back up again and putting it back on her face.]

If he's not here, you have one handy civilian consultant you can use. Put me to work anywhere, especially computer systems you can say that I live and breathe them.

[ caroline is in full wedding planning mode. okay, so maybe ric, the groom, is in stasis but so is caroline's boyfriend, so now's the time for distraction. and what's a better distraction then planning a big event? a wedding shaped event.]

At the risk of this sounding like a setup of a cheesy joke... I need a priest or a captain or someone who has the power to do a marriage ceremony. Step right up if you qualify. I need your services.


[private to jenna sommers]

We need to discuss colors so I can start on the invitations. Oh, and food. Also ceremony stuff, like the wedding party.

[Shepard looks terse, just a little short tempered. She has bigger fish to fry right now, but taking the occasional potshot? Sure, there's time in the day for that.]

I know it feels a little warmer in here, [south of the equator natives holla!] but are we really thinking it's Christmas? As far as I knew, we're pretty scattered across the board when it comes to our personal timelines and it's not like anyone's counting how long we're in stasis during the jump.

I'm calling it now: it's really new Armistice Day. I know most of you don't know anything about the First Contact War, but I hope you'll take this opportunity to remember those who fought for you in whatever universe you come from.

[Talilock, encrypted like whoa]
Garrus, I have a job for you.

[look, it's a face. look, it's legolas's face. you don't see that on the network very often. he looks-- relatively calm, in spite of the drawn eyebrows and overall weariness. or as much as an elf is able to look weary. that might be a smudge of dirt on his chin.]

..It is always painful to lose a friend when the cycles turn. Or two, and one of them for a second time. [not to mention another one in a coma.

he sighs though, lifts his shoulders in what might be a shrug, and pulls on a smile. ned did say something about charm.. a few months ago.]

Seeing as my employer is asleep again, and I think it has been some time since the last one-- the oxygen gardens is currently-- ah, short staffed. [as.. always.] I think we may be able to manage it, but some assistance would be much appreciated, even if you do not decide to join the department itself.

There is some gardening done, but for those less inclined to the soils, there is also the monitoring of the hydroponics [did he say that right, can ned be proud of him for saying it right.] and the water cleaning system. And as always, we would advise that the owners of the the plants in the community garden and the creatures that reside here come by to care for them accordingly. It may be difficult for us in the department to have a hand in everything at the moment.

[shuffling. the camera jostles for a moment, and then a garden.txt file is attached. no, he was not not the one to name it.

he takes on a more serious tone now. the kind that's trying to be serious but also trying not to scare people away, otherwise known as a bit worried.] I have heard also of a thing known as Christmastime that might be celebrated this cycle. If you require a tree or any other plant from the gardens, please ask for some assistance. If possible I would have them removed in a way that they may still be replanted afterward with little damage to them.

[not to poop on holiday spirits or anything. but if another tree is dragged up haphazardly, he has a bow and he is not afraid to use it.]

Please do not hesitate to ask if there are any questions in regards to this. I may be found here at all times, and there is often someone else from the department here as well.

((ooc: agriculture 101. no hoverdollies and spaceracing for non-dept members, sorry. open to action, set in the gardens of course!))

[see rikku. see rikku lying on her bed, tossing her garment grid in the air and catching it. see rikku do this for a few moments before chucking it across the room, where it hits her dresser with a loud clang. throwing metal disks is not advised. she sits up, clearly frustrated. she starts talking to herself, not caring that the camera is recording.]

How flippin' hard is this supposed to be?! Shinra did it, and he's like, ten! I'm a full grown Al Bhed! I've been taking apart toasters and building engines since I was three! How is it even possible that I can't figure out how to fix something a ten year old accidentally made?

[her hair is down, stupidly long, and she runs her hands through it, just tangling it more. she picks up the grid, sadly dented now, and angrily pushes one of her dresspheres into a slot.]

I'm literally out of ideas! Shiva's tits, maybe I'll just have to blow it up and be done with it! How come I can't just put it on [she clips the grid to her belt. it glows a bit. she doesn't seem to notice.] think real hard [she slams her eyes shut and screws up her face like an idiot.] and have it freakin' work?!

[it is at this point while she is still yelling that the glow turns into a pretty blinding light. a second later, the light fades and rikku is left standing in her warrior dressphere. she is brandishing her sword very menacingly and her yelling lasts for about five more seconds before she cuts herself off.

she blinks. she stares at the sword and gives it an experimental slash. she grins.]

Oh. Well, that was easy.

Hello again. I think some of you know who I am by now... [A little wave.] Juliana. I was--and in fact, I still am--available to answer any and all questions you may have about the situation you are in and what has come before. Ask and ye shall receive, as the saying goes.

[She sighs, a little puff of air that pushes a wisp of hair out of her face.]

However, I'll ask a favor in return. Things are dark and scary, aren't they? All sorts of strange things from time to time, a little creepy, etc. I was wondering, you know, what if I need to signal someone for help, someone nearby and available and willing to assist? [Oddly specific...]

Having not been human for most of my operational life, I don't know how to whistle. I thought perhaps I could learn a variety of whistles, for example I know there are assisted whistles and normal, melodic sorts, all of differing use and practicality. So someone should teach me.

I'll be in the gardens.

[Have the charming and charismatic voice of Jack Harkness in your ears.] Hey there, Tranquility. I'm sorry this is late and out of date. I realize I'm not who you're used to, but. Ianto isn't doing so well right now. You know he's sick when he's letting me touch his things like this. [There's definitely a touch of concern in Jack's voice, here. Just how sick is Ianto, you might wonder...] Anyway, he made me promise to get this posted for him, so here it is. For all the newbies and for everyone out there who needs to read up on everything that's been going down on this ship. Figure this might shed a little light.

HELLO You're probably confused. Take some time to read this over. We do our best to keep it up to date, and it should answer most of your questions. THE RUNDOWN » What happened, where you are, what to do REFERENCE » Basic facts about the ship and solar system A TIMELINE OF EVENTS » This will take time to read thoroughly, but we strongly recommend it. FAQ » Please read this before asking a question on the network HEADCOUNT » Our current numbers SPACE TRAINING » If this is your first time aboard a space ship, please watch these helpful videos COMMUNITY NOTICEBOARD » For all your wants and needs

[This will be one of the few times he ever uses video, but he does so intentionally, hoping that it might help whoever's ended up on his half of this deal - because if he's learned anything in the past few days from paying attention to everyone else, it seems that when someone has someone else's memory, the reverse is also true.

And this memory, man, seriously. What the hell.]

Hey. There someone on this ship named Juliana?

[Like the rest of you, this woman looks sleep deprived and possibly a little bit deranged. Her eyes are glassy, she seems a little fidgety, as though she's anxiously awaiting something. Anything. A few deep breaths, and she finally stops staring blankly forward and speaks.]

I have a very important question. Very. I'd appreciate any help you can provide.

[Another pause.]

What does "love" mean to you? And what does it feel like? Rapturous? Terrifying? It's a concept to me, nothing more. I've been curious, though. And now that we're all half-incapacitated and sharing things...

[Her attention span seems to weaken for a moment, and she looks away at the wall...]

Also, if anyone knows how to cook something manly, I'd like your help with that, as well.

[Text]

Will eating a burnt cake make you sick?

[Video]

[There is then a shot of the cake in question. You can see Chell in one of the kitchens as she arranges the screen to show off the burnt chocolate thing in a pan. Nope, doesn't look edible. She may try anyway. Because her cake.

No really this is important.]

[It's his first time talking to everyone, and he's actually sleepy for once but he's not really acting it. Except to you know, be a little more grumpy then normal not that you can tell because he has his helmet on.]

Whoever taught a certain person how to only make green gelatin can you please teach her something else? She's smart, she can handle something more complex then that.

Or you know maybe things you can do with it. At least if you can't sleep it's something to do and I'll even see if I can do something for you in return for teaching her.

[Wait a minute he's forgetting something here...]

And if you've dealt with a woman who says she's a goddess I'm sorry.

[No he's not going to expand on why he's sorry he just is.]

[ The flight crew is noisier than usual, a buzz of activity and excitement that is usually more toned down when Carolyn makes these posts. Part of the problem is that she's in the thick of it, where usually she'd move away; the other part is the shining white metal visible outside of the windows. ]

We docked somewhere.

[ Carolyn almost sounds like she can't believe it; in the background, it looks like someone practically has their nose pressed to the window to verify that they are, indeed, docked somewhere. ]

About ten minutes ago, judging by the noise we heard. It's gone now, which means-

[ There's a pause as someone says something, indistinct, but Carolyn's eyes widen a fraction. ]

One of the halls opened up. About 100 meters down from the shuttle bay -- we're definitely docked. Airlocks on both sides are open. [ She grimaces as she says this; luckily it actually seems to be oxygen and decent pressure over there. A few other crew members look fairly uneasy at the thought as well. ]

I shouldn't have to warn all of you to be careful if you head over there, but consider it done anyway. Let's not forget what happened last time. [ A beat then, helpfully: ] People were brainwashed and killed, last time.

[ Just before the video goes off, at least one person can be heard responding to that comment. ]

((ooc: YAY WE DOCKED AT ANOTHER PLACE THAT'S GOING TO TRY TO KILL US. Be prepared for the flight crew all over this post, guys.))

[It seems ridiculous that she'd want to have something be on video when she looks the way she does, but so it goes. As it stands, you're greeted at an unusually early hour by a woman with mussed hair all wrapped up in her blanket with red eyes and a frown. She speaks shakily, obviously a bit bothered by whatever is going on.

And oddly enough, it has nothing to do with the strange occurrences going on on the ship. No, it's a more mundane thing.]

I shouldn't have the capacity for that, but... I think I had a dream. Not a good one. I woke up like this and my pillow was wet and my chest hurt and I'm completely disturbed right now.

This isn't supposed to happen. A moment used to feel like an eternity to me, but now I sleep and everything goes by so quickly. This time it was terrible. I feel terrible.

[She's all alone, and she hates being alone. She's used to a million people needing her every day.

Pathetically:]

Help.