And we're back. To those of you who are new, welcome to the Tranquility. For the rest of you, you know why I'm speaking to you now. It's been another month, and those of us who ventured into the hallways last month--whether we made the choice ourselves or had it made for us, here we are. This is our home now, we chose it.

On the topic of Shepard's last message, I know many of you are divided. Let me better frame it for all of you, in the hope it helps you to understand why my stance on it is so hard line. Shepard was punished for trying to pick apart the ship's secrets, held until there was no hope of her getting out. She and her team sent out messages deliberately intended to snare us into the trap - in places they didn't even know what they were saying - to get us to go in there. We resisted. We fought our way back when it threw everything it could at us to get us to stay. Now they apparently want us to go back in. Well it's not gonna happen, and I strongly advise you not to try, even if it's true that I can't personally stop you. Why am I so convinced? Because of something Shepard said.

[ A clip from the message plays, Shepard's voice: ] Formally suggest volunteer only operation. Something is different. Something’s in my head.

Ultimately it's your decision, but don't say I didn't warn you. And believe me, I know what you saw. I saw it too. I saw what I want most in the world, but here I am, and this is where I'm staying.

Javik and Shepard, as usual with those who go missing as well as those lost during the jumps, have been added to the mourning wall in the garden chapel. These were good people, their actions were the actions of heroes, not fools; but most of all, they were friends. I've got a mean streak in me, so here's the deal: you got a bad word to say about them, keep it the hell to yourself. That's my last word on the matter.

[ Nathan is pure Tranquility by now. Gone is the suit jacket and tie, last seen long months ago. He wears clothes bartered for at their last stop, a three quarter length brown leather coat and functional, hard wearing clothes underneath, space age fabrics in dark forest green and darker brown. He's still the same man, but he's adapted. And he's only half done with his talk, his expression still serious. ]

Alright; Tranquility business.

There's gonna have to be a few changes if we're gonna keep living here. Don't mistake me--the ship's gonna step up whatever it's got in store for us, and we can't keep losing unity the way we are. This is jump thirty three, that means thirty three floors; more floors than we have security. Those of you who are new will discover that fresh food from the gardens is only being distributed on floors marked 1 and 6; alternative food is still available in the kitchens on other floors. So agriculture is terrible, the security situation is equally troubling, and then medical most of all; the latter is presently, by way of seniority and...well, other things, in the hands of my brother Peter--you'll find him an apt leader, but he's no surgeon, so good luck if you get appendicitis.

What I'm getting at is a crucial need for people to join departments. Now we've been working on a volunteer basis this far and it's worked fine, but if we don't get people growing food and cleaning up medbay after the jump, fixing shuttles, protecting the halls and maintaining our communications network, survival here is gonna get more and more unpleasant. You like your conversations getting to the right people, don't you? Well so do I. How about them apples? And getting off the ship, despite being a damn deathtrap near every time we do it, that's real great when the oxygen isn't whistling out of the shuttle you're in right? Yeah, I think so too.

If more people don't sign up, we may have to start rationing luxuries...at worst people might start dying, and there'll be no escape route if the ship is gonna blow. I don't want any of that to happen and neither should you.

[ At last it seems like he's close to wrapping up. ]

Last month's losses shouldn't change how we continue to approach survival here, and believe me when I tell you that your first battle is to survive. To do that, we all need to pull ourselves together and keep doing what we usually do, irregardless of our personal feelings. Fight club, space training, weekly dinners, and above all work--routine is how you stay sane; take it from someone who's been here for a while And remember if you decide to get wasted on space alcohol nightly that when your liver fails nobody around here can do a damn thing about it.

But most of all we can get through this if you're all there for each other; we're stronger together. We'll survive together.

Petrelli out.

[Ianto looks fairly uncomfortable when he comes on screen. He hasn't addressed the network in a long time, and there are still people who aren't on great terms with him after the fiasco on Arima. Still, this needs to be said.]

Some of you know me, some of you don't. My name is Ianto Jones, and I've been here since the first jump. Back in the beginning, there was a whole group of us who were very seriously dedicated to unlocking the mystery of this place, and I think it's fair to say that we came a good distance. Most of the others are gone now, but we put together a guide that I kept updated for a long time after the organization was disbanded. After a while, though... Well, I suppose like I felt people weren't reading it any more. But we've lost quite a few of the old hats and gained a lot of new faces, and what used to be fairly common knowledge has been lost.

I've been convinced to revive the guide, but in the meantime, one of the things many of you may be unaware of is the subnetwork, buried directly beneath the one we're using here, and how it's been used before. Smiley, the entity you saw leave us that passage before the rescue mission, has given us nuggets of information on that subnetwork before. He left us another one, and we cracked it just a few minutes ago.

The contents of the message are as follows:
( SPOILERS if you're still trying to solve the tumblrs! )

[The feed opens on Tyke in the SEC offices. Her expression's set steady, only some thin sharpness at the edges betraying any strain. Mostly she just seems busy and pissed off.]

This is Tyke, head of Security. Most of you will be aware of the situation. We've got seventeen people reported missing in the ship, approximately seven that have followed in the last two days. I'm not gonna stop any of you trying to go after them, but you go prepared, and you don't go alone.

We're putting together supply packs. Come down to the SEC office, floor 001, pick one up. We can arm you if you don't have any weapons, and put you in teams if you're on your own. [A beat.] Got four hours before I take SEC out.

[A deadline for anyone joining them or coming to get packs. She almost looks like she's done there, but seems to reconsider.]

Don't listen to anything you hear out there. Watch each other's backs. Want as many of us coming back from this shit as possible.

[Including the missing.]

You're not alone. People you care about are calling for your help, and you want to go help them. I'm going to ask you to be a little more patient before you run off into the dark. We know they're lost, we know there's something pursuing them, we know they need help. But we also know that the most recent post on the network, the one talking about warnings from the captain - a captain we don't have - wasn't made by one of us. That means this problem is bigger than you think; it's bigger than all of us, and it's important we get a clear image of what we're facing before we leave. Shepard's team has gone missing, and other comms have started going off the radar too--we'll start where they disappeared, and if we do this together, we might even succeed. The last thing we need is more of you lost out there because you chose to do this on your own.

Right now I need your help in a different, but just as important way. If you've received a message from someone, we need to hear them. That way we can establish a thorough list of who's missing, and try and piece together what they were all trying to say.

Tyke, as Head of Security, is going to coordinate the rescue. I imagine she'll speak to you shortly herself. Rest assured we'll need bodies on the ground for this one, and I know there's going to be no telling some of you to stay put, so forgive me if I - at least - save myself the effort of trying. The corridors are dangerous: bring weapons, ammunition, your communicator, but don't worry too much about rations--you won't need them.

[ He seems about to sign off, but he has to address that post, the grinding static and the screams underneath it, all of it so familiar to him by now. ]

...

"They're getting closer." I don't know about you, but that doesn't sound like a coincidence. Whatever we find out there, whatever is after our people, try not to kill it unless you have to. Don't get killed, but bear in mind the risk that we may be deceived into murdering people who would be our allies. I can't shake the feeling that we're being set up. Alright. Hang in there, everyone.

Two questions:
What are the expectations here?
What positions are available for those who can work?

[ an exit is what tobias really wants but a perfunctory search could have told him escape is impossible — and he scoured every relevant link, every post about the ship's life he could find.

he'll settle for knowing where the needs of the ship lie. ]

[ Nathan wears his black bomber jacket and jeans, a rare occurrence for a video post. His hair is slicked back, he's made no effort to shave, and...is that a sword tied across his back. Yes, yes it is. He looks downright rakish, more ne'er-do-well than politician. ]

Let me bring all of you up to speed. If you haven't been watching the network in any detail recently, you won't be aware of the fact that our deceased friend and victim Felix Laurens took to the airwaves to speak to us, ostensibly because he had the information we needed.

Laurens, for those of you who weren't here at the time, commanded the Scylla and her crew, a ship of raiders - pirates - that attempted to strip the Tranquility more than a year ago, and caused most of the damage on our two hundred and fifty passenger floors, destroying at least one of them when the Scylla was ripped from our hull during the Jump.

Laurens was certainly helpful; he told us that the place we're approaching is called Arima, a no-good dive for pirates and villains of all kinds, who'd kill you so much as look at you. Whoever took that shuttle fled there, probably to try and find a way off the Tranquility for good, and if they can do it, there's absolutely no reason why we shouldn't be able to do it too.

Now I'm not saying it won't be risky. Hell, the universe out there might be more than we can deal with, but in two and a half years we haven't found a way to make this ship send us home. This might be the only way for us to break the cycle once and for all, and with it leave behind all its mysteries and its brainwashing, and the threat of death, disease or madness that hangs over us every day. At the very least, we need to find out who stole that shuttle, and why they thought it was time to abandon ship.

With Carolyn's permission, I'd like to volunteer to fly the first shuttle down there. Anyone who feels like they could offer assistance securing the landing platform, you'll get priority seating, and I'll attempt to use my experience to establish radio contact with the ship, let everyone know whether or not it's safe. For the rest of you, there's time to think about if you're ready to try and leave, and while we don't have many pilots left, there should be just enough to get us all down there. Even so, Laurens has made it clear that we shouldn't waste too much time thinking. We have days--four at most.

You all have an hour to make your decisions and pack. Do not wear your ship issue jumpsuits, and keep your tattoos concealed at all times. Come armed, and look tough. There's a chance this may be a one way trip, so anything that's precious to you should come along now; there's no knowing whether we'll have the opportunity to come back and get it.

------

Text (added two minutes after the video post goes live to the network)

Do not bring: horses, dinosaurs, heavy armor, large collections of animals, the entire content of your wardrobes, volatile chemicals/weapons/explosives.
Watch this space for further updates.

( Private to Netherlands )

( Private to Peter Petrelli )

For those of you who are new -- or, ah, newer -- here... hi. [Awkward pause.] I'm Murphy, and I'm the guy who stocks your food.

After talkin' it over we've made the executive decision to tweak our system a little. After all, I'm only a one-man show, and stockin' kitchens in over thirty decks is gonna run me ragged.

So, from here on out you can get your grub on every fifth deck of the ship startin' from the bottom up. If you can't find what your lookin' for on the current deck you're on, try the next one up. I'll be puttin' up signs for posterity's sake.


[More pause. At first he considers hanging up, and then:]


Also, er... since I guess it's just that kinda month, there's gonna be a second wedding. Mine. And... Anne's.

Completely unplanned, honestly. But if you're not reelin' from the festivities of the last one, it'll be in the garden chapel tomorrow. Because hey, things could go to shit by then, they might not. I'm not tryin' to make light of our situation here, but I've been alive long enough in this place to not take anything for granted. Feel free to come or not.

That's all.


[ooc: Wasn't sure whether to make a log or not... It'll probably be a post-ceremony open log for both Murphy and Anne and anyone else since it's more or less going to be a small event. I'll set one up tomorrow. Edit: Aaand here is that log in question!]

Fellow passengers of the Tranquility,
The loss of many of our friends in the previous Jump, while already a tragedy, leaves us in a situation of grave peril. Volunteer crew across the board is at an all time low. No one department is flourishing; even Security is working on a skeleton crew, spread further every jump, as new passengers are consigned to higher floors. Medical is overstretched; two doctors and two nurses trading shifts. The flight crew is crippled; there are less pilots on board now than are needed to crew the shuttles should we need to abandon ship. And agriculture, which provides our fresh food and therefore guarantees our survival, is struggling to secure the help of full time volunteers.

I must urge each and every one of you, old passengers and new, regardless of how you feel about your confinement here, or how little you think you might have to offer in way of skills, to give serious thought to joining a department. Skills can be taught, but nothing short of action now will prevent disaster. Our very survival depends on you.

Each of the ship's departments will introduce themselves and link to relevant materials below. Please wait until they speak, or contact them privately to address your questions to them. If you'd like to offer your assistance but don't know where to start, we will help you get settled in the right place. When you're ready, enter your signup information here to be granted relevant clearance. Your tattoo will change to reflect your new position.

OPR
>>> Communications
>>> Flight Crew
>>> Gunnery
>>> Engineering
>>> Support

SCI
>>> Medical
>>> Agriculture
>>> Xenobiology & Genetics
>>> Physical Science

SEC
>>> Security

Remember: We all survive together, or we all die together. The choice is yours.

Please direct your general questions here.

[ Heads of department can respond to their subjects with video or whatever. Otherwise feel free to comment with voice, video or text as though this were a regular post. ]

Now that I've had the opportunity to see what this ship has to offer, I thought I might introduce myself properly to those of you I did not see in the lockerroom.

[ adam lifts an eyebrow, he's done much more reading than exploring, but it's time to show his face. it's time to get ahead of the people from his world. he's considering doing a really terrifying thing: being honest. ]

My name is Adam Monroe and while it is a pleasure to meet you all, I'm sure we can all agree that there could certainly have been better circumstances. Still, I suppose it could always be worse.

[ he tilts his head, wondering how convincing that sounded. ] I do have a few inquiries that are sure to label me as a new arrival, but here, as they say, goes nothing:

Is there any certain rule or order of law in this place? I understand there are departments that carry out individual tasks, but is there no legislative branch of any kind? I only ask because with so many different people on board, there must have been conflict on this subject before. [ and he wants to avoid ruffling any feathers. ]

I also wonder if anyone has puzzled out the meaning behind these blasted numbers. [ he can't help glancing at his tattoo, frowning slightly in the process. ]

Lastly, is there some manner of - weapons cache? Or an itemized list, perhaps, of all the items that have become public property. [ no reason for this, none at all!! ]

Before I get too far off-base or I begin to bore you all with the intonation of my voice: I would very much like to offer any help I can to the ship at large. I am not overly technical, but I can get by, and I have seen more than a few posts asking after those with a veteran background.

[ he feigns insecurity, wavering between shutting the feed off and keeping it open-- ] Thank you, fellow passengers, for your time.

[ and that's it. ]

[ the feed switches on to show a spectacular view of the garden grounds. as in the actual floor of the gardens, mostly dirt and foliage, before it's flipped around to focus on hook's face. his expression is solemn, offering up a respectable display of sincere concern for those he's addressing. ]

This message is intended as a favour— an act of good faith, if you will. I regret to inform my fellow passengers that we've a wolf in our midst. [ the mask of civility slips slightly, giving way to a sharp grin; his voice matches, edged with hostility and amusement. ] Or should I say a crocodile.

There's a man on this ship who calls himself Rumplestiltskin. While I admit he's not much to look at, it's nothing more than the practised ruse of a monster. He's known to my world as The Dark One. Whatever kind words he's spun, any generosities he's offered— I assure you, they've been at your expense.

[ no killing allowed, but nobody said anything about gossip. anyway, after a pause to let that dramatic reveal that absolutely won't remind anyone of stupid picture books settle: ]

I've also heard word of a smithy on board. If anyone could direct me to it or to its owner, I'd be in your debt. [ there's a glint of light off the metal as he raises his hook, idly considering its condition. ] I've something in need of sharpening.

[ that last sentence would absolutely be a private taunt to gold if he knew how to encrypt anything, but he doesn't. blame emma. ]

( ooc: 4th walling on all related fairy tales/stories is welcome! )

[It's the familiar backdrop of Medbay, hurrah! Simon looks--you guessed it--tired, and he sounds--you guessed it again--exasperated. Cleanup after something like what just happened in Engineering is never very good for the sleep schedule.]

Before anyone asks--Charlotte is in the care of Medbay. She's stable, but isn't in any shape to receive visitors or answer questions. Please don't come to any medical staff requesting to see her.

We'll get what information we can when she's ready to give it. That might not be for some time. Right now, passenger health is the priority.

[And she is, in fact, a passenger.]

If you were...forcibly ejected from Engineering and require any further medical attention, please don't hesitate to see a doctor or nurse. We'll do what we can to alleviate any lingering symptoms.

[Should you go to Medbay with the express purpose of seeing what's up with this Charlotte lady, you'll find she is, as Simon warned, in no shape to receive visitors, drifting in and out of consciousness and in an obviously unhinged state. As she's clearly a danger to herself and others, there's an SEC guard near or around her bedside 24/7.]

[The video crackles into life, showing a dark section of what appears to be engineering. There's a young woman, haggard with exhaustion in her features, sweat and engine oil streaking on her face, leaning into the camera intently, naked hope in her expression.]

Tomas? Tommy?

[Silence, for a long moment. She's waiting for an answer, and the hope slowly fades out of her eyes the longer she doesn't receive one. Eventually, resigned, she shifts, the camera blurring before it settles again, showing her sitting, leant back against a railing on one of engineering's walkways.]

I made it to engineering, Tomas. I don't remember how, but... [She trails off, confused, and then simply seems to forget about that train of thought.] I know I should have visited you here more often, maybe I'd have more idea of what to do. Breaking everything I come across should do it, shouldn't it? It feels so wrong, smashing up everything you worked on.

But I think I'm close. It doesn't sound-- [She breaks off, a smile breaking through, fond, sad.] That sound you used to talk about, that happy sound? It doesn't sound happy anymore. I just need to find the drive.

[She looks upward, mouth pressing thin, as if she's attempting to hold back tears. After a moment, she seems to find her resolve again, nodding to herself.]

I just need to end this.

[The camera shifts and blurs again, and then clicks off.]

[[MOD NOTES: Feel free to tag! Charlotte believed this to be a single closed transmission, but she will respond. Any characters with the know-how to trace this feed will find it originating in engineering, from a comms device apparently not registered to any crew numbers. Engineering is still too hot for player characters to enter! This post directly feeds into February's modplot, and more explanation will come in the upcoming plot post. In the meantime, if you have any questions regarding this post, feel free to contact us directly.]]

[ The image on the screen is fragmented, static snapping across the screen. It distorts his words, distorts the image, but Nathan is recording his piece as though there’s nothing wrong with the recording. He looks tired, drained, recording this message from the Captain’s chair on the bridge. The bridge behind him is dark, there’s the odd sign of movement.

Others have recorded their messages, and there still may be some activity on the network, but Nathan won't be back online to see it. The last thing he wants is to spent his last hours watching for those few moments the static breaks, and a frightened message manages to come through. But a parting message is his prerogative, so several hours before the jump he records this--and then he sends it several times and just hopes that it gets through. ]

I ho-- this ----- message reaches --- in time. It --s important to me th-- --- --mmendable service of the men a-- ------ that joined me is --membered. It may not seem -- ------ we achieved much --ring with this mutiny, but wh-- we have achie--- -s more valuable still than many things ---- w- ha-- learned in the last --- -----. I hope our eff---- ---- not be waste-. Do not ---- fight---.

We m--- --- -hoice when we came here. Our choice. We took the b-i-ge. I- was - success. Tyke, Ryuzaki, --is is my final ----- upda--. I want to -------- --ank each and ----- --- of you who gave ---- ti-- --- ----- -- save us. Your efforts gave us -ope. But now it's ti-- to stop. --- to the Jump. Don’t add ---- lives to [ Disconnect. ]


[OOC: This concludes the Mutiny plot, though there may still be posts from others. Thank you so much for everyone’s involvement in making this thing fly! ]

09:07
Bridge is ours. No resistance encountered.

09:12
Doors locked. Not opening from the inside. Attempting manual release. Request assistance.