[ The video clicks on to show Carolyn in the shuttle bay (of course), standing in front of one of the windows showing the vast expanse of space. After letting the camera roll for a moment so that you, dear viewer, can come to terms with what you're looking at, she focuses it on her face and starts to speak. ]

This is overdue, but we're going to be having another information session on space, space travel, and the features we're aware of on board the Tranquility in a few hours. Make the time to attend. For those of you who want to get caught up on the previous lessons, I'll include a link to the recordings.

We're going to be going over everything, including evacuation protocols, but I'm going to be paying special attention to what I know about stasis. [ Which admittedly isn't much, as they use cryosleep, but it's more than most of the ship. ] It's been a popular topic lately, after all.

[ There's some fiddling with the buttons and after a pause, viewers will have a link to a sub-network with the videos embedded. ]

If any of you newcomers are interested in joining the flight crew, whether you have experience or not, we'd be glad to have you. Come on down and talk to myself, Hikaru Sulu, or John Casey.

[ Carolyn pauses, shifting a little uncomfortably. ]

For those of you that knew her, Kara Thrace has gone home.

[ Aaand: ]

The kittens are ready, if those who talked to me are still interested.

[ And it all came down to this: ]

can't say i've met that many of you, not even close to half
but i'm September.
we have met, in a way, i'm sure.

[ There's a long, long, long pause before he reconnects with video. Perhaps some hesitation and reconsideration. That long pause for a breath and teeth gritting.

After all, it wouldn't mean anything if he couldn't admit to his mistake through his own words. With his own voice. ]

Well, and I... [ Blue eyes shift to the left. Perhaps he prepared for this? Squinting at his 'script'? ] I haven't been perfectly honest with all of you.

[ ...



And another. He clenches a hand. Uncertain what to do with himself. How to sit or look or keep his face looking this way. His tone. ]

I'm what you could call... a... Dream Eater? [ Yes, this tone is funny. He sounds uncertain about the title. ] I've been deceiving many of you. It's... a bit difficult to explain, but I've [ JEEZno, he rubs at his face before he blurts out the final piece. A little hiccup: ] I'VE BEEN invading—invading many of your dreams without permission.

[ Silence. ]

And eating them. 

[ Christ. ]

Enjoying them too, I suppose. Acting out people. Twisting things around. Finding out things that I have no right to. It's not surprising to have the tiniest bit of memory about my face. At least that.

I apologize for... my... behavior... and I'm sorry. [ September looks directly at the screen. How was that, Thranduil? ]

( ooc: Feel free to handwave September-dream interactions all you want with conversations! o/ )

[Nomi's had a couple of days to adjust and play around with her new communicator, but hasn't taken the time to do any sort of broadcast. Better to know the ins and outs of a new device before addressing it, since there was no sense in making a fool of herself. The entire affair is somewhat disorienting, but then she's been in worse straights. At least there's decent food, and showers. Much better than with the Krath. Why, she didn't even have her hands tied.

But now? Time to talk, figure out just who the other Jedi on the ship are. The ones she hasn't met yet, anyway. Those presences in the Force stand out like bright spots, after all, and if they're anywhere near as interesting as Master Jinn and Nymta then she's in for a real treat. Of course, there's also the matter of greeting the other people. No reason to exclude potential friends and allies, right?]

Greetings to you all.

I'm somewhat unfamiliar with protocol here, so forgive me if I misstep. My name is Nomi Sunrider, and I understand that that there are a number of fellow Jedi aboard this ship. If it's possible, I would very much like to speak with you. I've quite a number of questions and I feel it would be in our best interests to open lines of communication. As I've learned already...time seems rather fluid here, so if you require proof of my identity I will not take it amiss.

Now. With that bit of business out of the way...[Nomi smiles warmly at the camera, figuring a light topic would be best for the moment.] There are a number of other realities represented here, it seems, and that makes me wonder...just what is the music like where you are from? The audio files I've managed to access here feel...odd. Not bad, but certainly not my tastes. If anyone might be willing to share I have a few files stored in my personal datacron I could offer in exchange.

Also, is there anywhere I could find Jawa Juice on this ship?

[ joe's not so much ill at ease on camera as he is just happier off, and the lack of desire to throw his metaphorical hat in to this particular ring bleeds through into his slumped posture. he's got his actual hat off and set to the side, because this calls for company manners which means your nicest flannel and no hat, as you do. ]

Name's Joe Davis, based outta Pernambuco. [ a beat. ] That's just about on the far edge of the farms on Pasiphae, right. [ since as it's been made abundantly clear, he's the only one who knows that sort of thing off-hand. ]

Nobody's wanted to tell me too much, but I get the sense something about this whole thing makes me look dangerous. And I understand that, and whatever questions you gotta ask I'm ready to answer them. [ in part because there's only one of him and a lot of everybody else and it's the smart call, but that can go unsaid. ] I guess I just wanted to say this is all new and confusing to me, too, and seeing as I'd rather not end up pistol whipped, if it's all the same to everybody-- [ yeah, dean, he saw that-- ] I figured maybe I'd make the first move, since it's seeming like maybe I've landed in a tight spot without meaning to here.

[ he looks down, rubbing at the back of his neck with a thumb, a little uncomfortable. ]

I'm not much for speeches, but it seemed like the thing to do-- think that's about it, anyway.

[ and with that, he's out. ]

[ Close up on Quinlan's face as he frowns in to the video feed and adjusts his comms device. Seemingly satisfied with the feed he sits back from the video feed and levels it with a stony look. His default expression, nowadays. ]

This ship has a habit of turning your mind against you. For those of you who find it useful - [ hey fellow jedi heyy ] - the oxygen gardens are good for meditation, especially the upper levels. Ground yourself, respect the life there, be mindful of the Living Force around you - and perhaps you'll find some peace.

[ And for the majority of the ship that's the end of the message! Those damn hippy Jedi! But for a select few from a galaxy far, far away there's an additional message attached: ]

FILTERED to Obi-Wan Kenobi, Anakin Skywalker, Bail Organa, Han Solo, Luke Skywalker & Lucien Draay:

So. We've got five Jedi, a senator, and - [ deadeyes ] - whatever Solo is. So that's seven -- seven of us, all from the same galaxy and all from different points in time. Small paths in one long journey.

For my own part, I know enough about the future - [ his expression turns grim, distant, ] - the Clone Wars end, peace returns to the galaxy. I know the role I play in the events. The Force guides me -- and I will do what I must. You needn't tell me any more. [ A pause, a gruff nod. ] Each one of you can decide for yourself how much of your future you want to know. I won't make that decision for you. But we all need to be clear.

[ when the feed begins, luke is seated somewhere looking a little on the worse-for-wear side. dressed in the same all black he'd worn on the death star, his expression is pleasant enough, if exhausted. but he can't quite rest yet-- not until he has a few things sorted out.

he offers a smile that he hopes seems less sheepish than dignified, bobbing his head in a polite nod. ]

Hello. I'm Commander Luke Skywalker of the, ah, Alliance of Free Worlds-- but as our ranks mean very little in the grand scheme of things here, please feel free to call me Luke. I apologize, since I know we're all still settling in after the jump, but I had a request and an offer.

[ he lifts his right hand with a wince, pulling the glove back slightly to reveal the blaster damage to his prosthetic. he pulls it back down over the hole, then, fingers clicking as he curls them and lowers that hand. ]

As you can see, I have a prosthetic, and it's seen quite a bit of damage in the last few-- well, weeks, really, but it's at the point now where I can't ignore it. I was hoping someone on the ship had access to tools for delicate work that I could borrow. The sooner the better, in all honesty.

[ a brief pause, straightening slightly. ]

The offer is in regards to my place on this ship. I'm told that there are gaps in the manning in several departments, and I'm happy to offer my services. Skillset-wise, I'm most suited to security or engineering, I think, but I'm a quick study if I'm needed elsewhere.

[ he seems to consider that for a moment and, satisfied, offers a quick salute. ]

Skywalker out.

[ the feed ends. ]

[ close on stiles stilinski, wearing a party hat with the elastic under his chin and looking more keyed up and happy than he has in at least a month. ]

Check it out. For those of you who haven’t met him, I’m pleased to introduce my bestest of best bros... Scott McCall!

[ come on down! he turns the communicator around to film scott, who’s seated on the bed and reading (in theory). he’s got a matching party hat on, and he flashes a broad smile in greeting. ]

Go team Jacob.

[ which is as much of a hello as he’s giving, apparently, but it might clarify exactly what book he’s got. stiles is still doing voice-over: ]

He’s totally brand spanking new, fresh off the production line, so if you think you’ve met him before? Bzzt, nope, you’re wrong, keep it to yourself.

[ with shakycam to rival cloverfield, the camera swings back around to stiles, whose general hyperactivity slips, for a moment, into a no-i’m-serious-do-not-fuck-with-me face. judgmental eyebrows and everything. it’s intense. ]

It’s this whole alternate universe schtick. Crazy, huh? I know, way too sci-fi. We’re on a spaceship, deal with it. Uh, so...

[ he’s interrupted by scott jumping off the bed to hijack the communicator. once he’s got it, he holds it slightly too close to his face while declaring in a very solemn, very official (except for the part where he’s almost laughing) voice: ]

May the Force be wi—

[ stiles’ hand slaps abruptly over his mouth because that isn't a funny joke when there are actual jedi on board, scott, and the communicator, after a brief staticky scramble, goes dead. that’s all folks! ]

[there's the familiar face of Jim Kirk, and judging from his expression, you can expect this isn't going to be a fun broadcast. next to him is Tyke, who is leaning back in her seat, Jim seated in the middle and Spock standing on his right, hands at parade rest and as unflappable as ever.]

Passengers, this is Jim Kirk, if I could have your attention for a moment.

As everyone knows, we've got people lost in the ship. Petrelli has already asked everyone not to use the lifts and I'm going to repeat that caution. We believe something is malfunctioning and the lifts are sending people to the wrong floor. Judging by the faulty messages we've been getting, we can guess that it's somewhere deep in the ship. Communications is currently working on clearing that up.

Right now I need able-bodied personnel to report to the Gunnery via the stairs. We're going to be working with Security to put teams together. While we don't want anyone else getting lost, we've got people out there who weren't prepared for it. That means they need food and water and probably weapons.

[ spock doesn't step any further into the feed, but he does pull a series of data padds from seemingly nowhere. his gaze doesn't lift from the bundle as he speaks. ] The gunnery department is able to supply a number of projectile based weapons as well as several dozen phasers for those willing and capable of utilizing them. Medical is standing by to receive members of each party and equip them with first aid kits.

[ it isn't an afterthought, but there's something about the way he finally looks at the screen that still says illogical humans. ]

Despite individual concerns for the well-being of friends, family, and your fellow passengers, I do not believe it unreasonable to remind you that this is an emergency alert. Personal feelings aside, we are meant to aid others, and cannot be expected to do so if we do not also ensure our own safety.

[It's at that point that Tyke finally leans forward, but it's clear in her expression and tone that she doesn't want to be talking any more than she has to, barely covered-over frustration and agitation.]

Respond to this if you can see it and you're currently in a known location, even if you're not gonna be involved in running supplies. We need to figure some working idea of how many are lost and how many are safe.


[ooc: kirk, spock & tyke. here is a OOC post for coordination if you guys need it! if you're renting a weapon, check that post out please! also feel free to action it up in this post/talk amoungst yourselves etc]

[ The feed is mostly static and distortion, but between the noise there are brief glimpses of an empty hallway. He holds it steady for a while to make sure there's time for some picture to (hopefully) make it through, then swings it around to face a wall covered in what's probably an unfortunately familiar creepy mural.

There's a quick shot of Reaper when he turns it to face the wall, too, but otherwise he keeps it focused on the mural to make sure the image actually transmits. ]

This is Josh Le--ith Space Mari--

Lost in the ha--liar part of the ship. Do--ators.

Agai--the ship, don't--

[ Then it cuts out completely. ]

( ooc: Josh and Reaper are lost in the hallways and found a creepy picture, feel free to attempt to talk to either! Replies will be very sketchy. )

This is supposed to be a colony ship, right?

[ Judging by the video, John is sitting on his bed, the camera focused on the empty bed across the room. ]

So not only were there crew members living on board, but there were civilians, too. Couples, families looking for a new life. And all of them are gone now.

[ There's a slight shift, a creak from his bed. ]

When someone disappears from here, their stuff is usually left behind. So... what happened to the stuff from those people? Did they take it with, or did something happen to it?

[ The comm is flipped suddenly, facing up at John from his lap. He's frowning, not really looking at the device. ]

I guess that's another question we may not ever get an answer to.

[ Quin's video broadcast comes from the deepest, darkest depths of the jungle levels of the Oxygen Garden, somewhere in the damp, lush lee of a tree so thickly overgrown with intertwining ropes of vines that it's a wonder it's still standing at all. The comms device itself is settled firmly in to a particularly dense clump of verdant greenery and angled just wide enough to capture Quin, cross-legged and grim-faced, and a sharp speck of a crystal sitting on the loam just in front of him.

He's been here for hours - maybe thirty or so, all of them long and hard-spent. Thinking, meditating, fasting, slipping in to the occasional dream - strange and foreign and full of memories that are definitely not his own. Now, awake and with a clear mind, Quin knows that it is finally time to send out this particular message. He picks the crystal up in one battered, bandaged hand and holds it aloft between his finger and thumb so it can catch a single fragile beam of artificial light that has somehow managed to work its way through the canopy above. ]

This belonged to the golem, Shale. A creature of stone but no less full of light. Her body still lies in the depths of this ship but I know that her comrades still remain with us on board. I've seen your faces in her memories, but I don't know your names.

[ His fingers curl around the nature crystal thoughtfully and he draws it closer to his chest as he explains, ]

I need this crystal. It was no accident that I came across it when I did. But I want your blessings, all of you who came from her world. Those who fought with her, those who knew her. [ A pause. ] Talk to me here, or find me in the oxygen gardens. I will help her memory live on if you will all allow it.

[ here, have a MySpace style shot of Wichita walking own the hall ( actually it's probably more Blair Witch than MySpace, but it's way less creepy than BW. so. ), her voice quiet over a low hum of.. what sounds like wheels, maybe, or just little gears turning. it's weird, basically. ]

Okay, two things. One- R2D2 is on the ship. Yes, that announcement is worth it's own network post because, well, it is. Because two-

[ the camera is flipped around with a touch on the screen, and then just down the hall, maybe fifteen feet away, is R2D2, leading about a dozen Tranquility Roombas, in two lines, down the hallway. Wichita may or may not have been found them on her way out of the bar, and continued following them for about fifteen minutes before she turned on her camera ]

He started with a following of eight, but every time he passes a room that's being cleaned by a bot, it just stops what it's doing and joins the line.

Innocent playtime? Very possible.

Though I must admit that my imagination has concocted something most! sinister. For what they could be planning.

[ someone sounds a tiny bit like Holmes there, for those last few words, because maybe she misses him a lot and this is how she spends her time now okay. detective-ing. ]

-- And before anybody gets all huffy, don't worry, I'm really only recording this because it's kinda cute. They're like.. ducklings, almost. But what are they up to?

[ amuuuused. ]

[its been a day already, and anakin spent most of that time trying to regain his bearings. waking up in that pod, senses muted. it isn't something he cares to repeat. but after scouring the network he knows that's a choice he doesn't get to make. not if these "jumps" are real. and with his senses back in full swing again, he's fairly certain that it's all true. that, or the force itself is trying to trick him in to believing a lie.

when the feed cuts in it's to a low-angled shot of anakin, already mid-conversation. no, he isn't aware that it's recording, because no, he isn't the one responsible for it.]

--eels strange though. It's him, but it's almost like-

[there's a few beeps to interrupt him, and anakin finally turns his attention back to its source. and subsequently, the camera.]

What are you...? Oh. [right. camera. time to think quickly. see, he's even putting on his jedi face. you know, alert and serious looking. this is just how he planned to make first contact with the wider world. obviously.]

I am Padawan learner Anakin Skywalker. I would like to speak with somebody from the Flight Crew. Specifically, whoever is in charge of the shuttles, if you have time. [he has a list of the people on flight crew of course. artoo already took care of that. but now he's looking for the kind of details that don't come in digital form.

a little more from the droid and he nods. his concern would be obvious to those who know him. but seeing as there's only one person who fits the bill here (or so he'd like to think)-]

Master, I know you're here.

[he just isn't sure what's wrong. there were two force users, but neither he could identify. it wasn't until artoo had found his name in the ships records that he'd realised obi-wan was one of those two.

he can feel him there now; a bright spot in the force. but it isn't right. it feels like their bond is muted in some way, and he knows it can't be on his end. he isn't holding back any more than he usually does. he wants to ask, of course. but that would mean admitting a weakness in their bond, and he's not about to do that while the rest of the ship could be watching. no, better to meet up and find out what's going on, right?]

Artoo wants to see you.

[yes, when all else fails, blame the droid.]

[ If he could have posted a video message then he would but, between standing over Bass's unconscious body, the still-drawn lightsaber and the mask he has yet to remove, Quin settles for voice. His tone is terse and grim, punctuated by a slight breathlessness and the familiar bassline hum of an ignited lightsaber in the background. ]

I need the security militia. Corridor one-one-three-eight. [ SHUT UP POP CULTURE NERDS it's a totally normal number. ] Weapons aren't needed...

[ A pause for reflection, then: ]

But a medic is.

[ yet another pause before he gruffly adds: ]

Obi-Wan. You too.

[ OPEN TO ACTION: Quinlan will be found pretty much sitting on top of a very unconscious Bass (also minus one arm). Only one thread for hauling Bass's body away to the brig, please - all other arrivals after that will find Quinlan alone after Bass has been taken away! ]

[ Stannis turns on the feed, seated in his quarters with a goshawk, and looking rather… unimpressed. Of course, this is hardly a change. And of course, when he speaks, his voice is firm and commanding. ]

Though I mislike these devices, I see little other manner in which mine inquiry may be answered.

[ He sets his jaw, moving his teeth from side to side. ]

They say that this is a vessel that moves through… space [ as preposterous as it sounded… there was hardly any denying such ]. This begs the question as to how one would conduct a battle aboard such a vessel. It would not function as a typical vessel, moving instead in four distinct directions, as opposed to two, would it not?

[ A frown. As much as he loathes to do this… ]

I would have more information on such strategies, and if this vessel has ever encountered another, and been forced to do battle. I would also know how one can apply their knowledge of ship combat to the Tranquility.

[ And with that, he hastily shuts off the feed, having little else to discuss.

He loathed ignorance. And he would fully cure himself of the affliction ]

Hey T-Q, how's it going? [ the video feed begins, but the girl speaking isn't immediately visible. instead, you're treated at first to what looks like the corner of her desk, and the straps of what you can guess might be her mask. one that remains safely offscreen. ] Anyway I don't wanna get too chatty, so lemme just run us right up to our next calendar- [ which is exactly what pops up a beat later. ]



Bah-dah!
Alright, lemme break it down here.

Someother-tember the 8th is Wolf's Day! Apparently celebrated by, and I quote, [ is she joking? it's hard to tell. ] throwing sticks, rolling around, and biting for fun. Also eating. There's supposed to be eating.

Someother-tember the 12th back by popular demand, is Slap a Lawyer on the Ass day. I'm not gonna question anybody's taste, okay? It's space, you gotta do what you gotta do.

Someother-tember the 23rd &24th for you lushes is Nog Day- which out of the mercy of my heart has stretched to encompass the next day, to nurse your hangovers and mope generally about how much this place sucks and you aren't at home. And probably drink more because hey, why not, you know?

Someother-tember the 25th is Sinterklaas, where you can throw your amalgamation of miscellaneous holidays together into one massive whole.

Then last but not least, Someother-tember the 29th is Awkwardly hug a Josh Day which is pretty self explanatory, in my opinion.

I'm toying with the idea of next month having a pin the nametag on the squinty-eyes [ she may be referring to the plethora of Joseph Gordon Levitt faces, but you know, she isn't elaborating, so take that as you will ] and probably a sad, sad belated new year's party for all the oldbies kicking around- but you know, if I put like all those holidays on here it pretty much just would've been one giant month of getting drunk for faintly justifiable reasons. Blah blah insert too much of a good thing proverb here. Anyway.

That's it for me! Have at it!

[ faith is smoking slowly when she turns on the feed, clearly lingering over the last of her stash in a way she really should have implemented sooner.

she has a veritable arsenal out and unloaded, covering a lot of the bits of her room that can be seen-- weapons cleaning is a totally sane hobby, why is everyone nervous when they try and sit down in here-- and she has a gun clearly unloaded and half taken apart in her hands, gleaming already but apparently not good enough.

her mask is chilling out in the back of her closet, but that's nobody's business but her own. ]

So, here's my thing. And I'm not talking for SEC here, so don't give me shit duty again, all right boss? Just thinking out loud is all.

[ she loves you, tyke. ]

So, what. We got-- hell and darkness out there? Yeah, and? I've done hell and darkness, it's pretty freaking routine for me.

Why are we letting jackasses like Caffrey and Stark head out alone and come back all fucked up and useless?

[ wait for it. ]

No offense, or anything.

Look-- back home, this is where we start talking about mounting up and heading out to take a little tour ourselves, is all I'm saying.

[ pleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeease oh please won't someone give her permission to troll the creepy space doom, oh oh oh pick her! ]