[Sigma has been keeping low and observing the ship and its occupants, but eventually he decides to poke a little more insistently through the network. It's video, held and trained on his face.]

It is something to find oneself in a setting not too wildly dissimilar to their own, but enough so as to enter the realm of the uncanny valley. I am familiar with space, and spaceships, but there is enough about the Tranquility that speaks of its differences that I cannot simply trick myself into thinking I am in my own universe.

The hallways aren't quite the right shape, or color. The hangar layout feels wrong. I wonder what is the more disconcerting; to be somewhere that is very nearly, although definitively not, like home, or find yourself so far removed from your lands of origin that every waking moment is a reminder.

I would like a discussion on the topic; how different is the Tranquility compared to your own homes, and how does that make you feel?

[he doesn't post to this forum very often, but when he does there's always some meat to it. Tate likes to see what people will do, he's a provocateur, digging at a wound to see what it'll look like as it bleeds and the reaction it'll get.

this is nothing like that.

his hands are trembling and he's bitten his nails down to the quick. there's something raw and volatile in his voice, and it shakes when he speaks. less like tears and more like fear.]

I can't find— I can't find Hayley.

[ irene's wearing her tweed suit, buttons opened at the collar, waistcoat undone. there's a large golden lab sitting beside her, glorying in the way irene's scratching behind his ears. ]

It seems Baron Vladimir Harkonnen has left us. A true shame. He may have been the only man aboard this ship who properly appreciated the opera, and it's always lovely, finding someone with whom one shares a common interest.

[ there's a pause. the dog's mouth opens, tongue lolling out. irene smiles at that, before addressing the device again. ]

I've been here a year, with this passing jump. More than I thought I would, when I last onsidered the matter. I'd had several suggestions as to what to do to celebrate, if celebrate is the word I should use. None of them are quite to my taste, though I'm not sure such a dubious milestone should go unappreciated.

[ she gives a quiet little hum of thought, then raises her shoulder in an uncharacteristic shrug. ]

But I digress. Tell me, is the owner of this fine animal aboard anywhere? I found him in my doorway, but I doubt he's the ship's way of congratulating me on my stay. Majestic though he is, I'd say the menagerie this ship's acquiring really doesn't need any new additions roaming loose.

You poor things, I worry so much.

Tell me what you see.

-S.

[ It's been a long, long time, Tranquility. Maybe it's time to test the waters again—especially important for a man who is so 'hush-hush,' but it's left to you to determine if this holds any meaning. So much time, so much silence ( what exactly could be done in that time? ). It scratches at the nerves, doesn't it?

What do you think? ]

Sup, Tranquility.

Handsome Jack here. Just arrived, what, like a month ago? Yeah. So. I think we got to talk.

You know. Get everything real nice an out in the open. Not a huge fan about airing out dirty laundry, but it's best to put this out there now rather than have to explain myself later. There's two people out there that tried to murder me when I got here, and I figure they'll keep trying for as long as I'm here... You might be friends with my buddies- and I say this sarcastically-Lilith and Mordecai, and they might say some things about me. Why not hear it from the horse's mouth?

I got nothing to hide. It's story time, kiddos. Gather 'round.

( Story time. Enjoy this manipulative son of a bitch. )

[It's a rare video post from Edgeworth. He looks tired, but he seems less depressed than he did a few hours ago; he's focusing on his anger to carry him through.]

Security has a certain amount of the ship secured. These areas are the ones we patrol, the ones you're all accustomed to: the passenger quarters, the oxygen gardens, the medical bay, et cetera. The areas in which you reside. If you stay within those boundaries, we try to keep you safe to the fullest of our abilities; though our manpower is limited, we will do what we can.

If you stray, then we can do nothing. As I said, our manpower is limited, and beyond where we have secured, it is essentially enemy territory. So all of you, no matter how impressed you are with your survival skills and abilities, needs to treat it like enemy territory. It isn't a place to have a walk. It isn't a place to go out and search for monsters so that you can get your fun cracking a few heads. It isn't a research lab. It is a place fraught with danger, and if you go out there, you run the risk of death.

So if you go out, then you will treat it like it is enemy territory. You will not go out alone. You will not go out unarmed. You will not go out without notifying security. If you fail to do any of these things, then you should damn well compose your suicide note to your friends on-board, because you're very likely going to die. And while security isn't ever going to leave anyone to die, you can't treat this ship like an amusement park and expect to live to see the next jump.

[And he glares at the camera a moment longer - and then he glances off to the side, his lips relaxing very slightly.]

Condolences. To those who knew them.

[ Hi, Tranquility. Ryan Newman is, well, new here, and he has an important question for you. No, it's not 'why am i here' or 'are you guys sure i'm not incredibly high right now'. And although it's kind of bugging him a lot, he's not going to ask why he keeps getting these weird looks and questions about his height. He's question is much more serious than any of that.

He looks a little uncomfortable, even a bit nervous. Ryan's not one for posting his face for...what, two-hundred some people to see? This is seriously pushing his comfort buttons, but this is an important question. It's for the sake of his sanity (and i mean that literally). ]

Has anyone seen a dog?

[ Yeah, if you've run into Ryan before, you may have heard this question already. ] He's...big. Gray. Middle aged. Kind of mangy? He goes by the name of Wilfred.

If anyone's seen him at all...can you let me know?

[ Nathan (the hotter one) appears in the video feed looking, despite the last month, surprisingly better. There's exasperation in his tone, but warmth in his eyes. It's nice to have things vaguely back to normal. There is a long pause before he speaks. ]

To newcomers I would like to say welcome, to those of you who spent the last month sleeping while we were working our asses off out here, welcome back. Time for an update: as you may have heard, many of you have spent the duration of jump thirteen in the stasis pods. We are presently on jump fourteen, and spent the last thirty days with a malfunctioning network. Though certain childish individuals may want to make light of our situation, I feel myself tasked to inform you that Comms was not responsible for bringing the network back online, nor are any of us responsible for any of you waking up, though there was some discussion as to whether or not it was safe to enter the stasis pods at all.

Just last week we received a message through the emergency network. Now most of you will know that I'm not one to spread hysteria, and I'd appreciate it if any speculation on the matter was discreet, with attention to the fact that we are all confined here no matter our fears. We are stronger together. As usual, I would like to remind everyone not to go wandering off into unexplored corners of the ship, unlike certain people.

[ Now for a second Nathan just rubs at his eyes. The mask drops, and it's clear underneath it he's exhausted, but he slips back into his serious face before he speaks again. ]

Comms is down to almost nobody again. We need help down here, so if you feel like you could maybe lend a hand, report to 001. You'll find a sign up sheet on the door, that's how desperate things have gotten. People with skills in computers are the most useful down here, whether you were a hacker or created Facebook, whatever. But you know what? I didn't have a lick of skill with the things when I got here, and now I'm quite capable. If you want to learn something new, want to make your own encryptions or just spent a month or two getting to know the ship more intimately, then just show up.

In regard to learning something new, we've also once again lost our proposed teacher, so I'm drawing the line under all the debate over it. Starting tomorrow, and therefore three days of every week, I'll be running classes for kids under fifteen. We'll meet in the chapel in the oxygen gardens at 10am, and work things out from there. If anyone wants to offer their expertise, show up at the same time, interact with the kids, and we'll see how it goes from there.

So let me say that again: If you're under fifteen, you have the option of coming to classes three days a week. We'll be working on life skills, visiting the different areas of the ship, learning how to use the communicators, maybe even talking about self defense--and anything else you guys want to learn about.

Alright. I got one more question. [ A pause. ] Pet food. Who makes it?

[ Nathan disappears for a moment, but a second later he makes a quick addendum to this post. ]

Just reminding people that we have an electronic message board here that lets people know what's going on around here. I also, during the last month, had an opportunity to put a memorial book down in the chapel for people to leave messages to those who've been and gone. Feel free to fill either out if you have something to add.