[Welcome back to Conspiracy Theory Hour with Topher Brink, who is currently in medical wearing a parka. He is the worst Stark Bannerman ever.]

When Bennett Halverson was here [he has to swallow a bit, because having Bennett here, however awkward it might have been, was nice and he misses her], we got into our brains to do some research on the nanites. It... didn't get too far, because the problem with these little beasties is they're everywhere and they kinda control how we get in and out of places and, personally? I don't wanna sleep in the hallway. But the fact is, we don't know a whole lot about them and we can't crack 'em without being worried that they're gonna... do something weird or explode our brains. And that's bad on numerous levels.

And I didn't realize until just now how bad. 

Let's think for a second. We've got the whole memory share business with each other, which is now, apparently, extending into memory share with the old crew. We know for a fact the nanites are deeply ingrained into the brain's thought processes. Think about it, guys- when you sign on to become a member of one of our lovely teams, do you go out and get a new tattoo with that shiny three letter badge of honor or do you fall asleep and wake up with it permanently stamped to your arm. [He holds up his own, showcasing his MED « 002 « 195 tattoo.] 'Cause I think I woulda remembered the tattooing process- I'm just saying.

[He sucks in a breath.] So the nanites know the difference between idly thinking "Hey, I'm in medical" versus "I am really and truly in medical." That means they're receiving data from the brain. We already know they can transmit it, because that's how we get around here. It's like any good computer, but here's the thing. We don't- and kinda can't for the aforementioned brain asplode reasons- know how much data these things are actually getting off of us. 

[He rolls his chair over to his computer.] And-and the thing is, all the nanites operate on the same network. Receiving, transmitting, whatever- we're all connected through them- so what if the memory links were a nanite malfunction. What if we saw a little glimpse behind the curtain of what's really going on here. Remember that line from the subnetwork? "It wants to keep you?" I know you remember that if you were for it, 'cause I still have nightmares about it. 

[A bitter, manic laugh.]

You can't delete a program- not really. If these nanites were in the original crew- doing their whole receiving and transmitting thing, then whatever they got off of them is still here. Floating around in the ether. Guys, what if we've been approaching this whole Smiley thing from the wrong perspective. Smiley's not one guy or an AI or Gallagher's freakin' ghost- Smiley is everyone. The whole crew. A literal ghost in the machine- the collective memories, feelings, whatever, of the entire former crew that somehow merged to create this one... composite. We die? We'll still be here. Floating around with the old crew. Boom. Prophecy fulfilled or whatever you wanna say.

[Basically, Smiley is a composite event without a host body or complete personalities. Just fragments. It makes a lot of sense to someone who has seen some shit. It's the only thing that can make sense. The ship's crew is just... gone, but they're still here.]

I mean... People have seen Smiley act outside the ship, right? And the only thing we bring with us when we leave the ship are our nanites. There's gotta be something to that, right?

[ The voice that speaks is low and warm, but clipped in the manner of one attempting to be succinct and informative. ]

This is a shipwide, public broadcasting of the terms of a meeting I- Melkor, who some know as Morgoth- held with the so-called High King Thranduil, delivered as an attachment. May his acquaintances, allies, friends, and enemies take note.

For those short on time or interest: like most creatures of any sense or instinct for self-preservation, especially in environs such as these, I strike back when struck.

Those who wish to speak with me regarding this or other concerns may leave a message with the date, time, and location of a suggested meeting place, where conversation will be had in person. All other messages will go unresponded to.

:) Have a pleasant day.

[ Audio recording attached is the fleeting convo here between Thranduil and Morgoth. As a link, because I'm lazy. ]

[ ned addresses the feed nervously as always, but with a purpose today. the rest of you may be worried about a monster in your midst, but this posting has a much more mundane goal in mind. ]

As some of you might already know... I was--am? The pie, the proprietor of a pie eatery and bakeshop, my Pie Hole. I mean, the. The Pie Hole. In space. Not that it was ever in space before, but it will be. Now. In the present and space-oocupied moment. Presently. [ what. he clears his throat. ]

Chuck, for those of you who--who already know her. [ and now starting to get pink... ] My girlfriend. And, and myself will be taking pie orders whether it's a simple apple pie or a delicacy only found on your home world. I will do my best to replicate it here with our limited resources. And eventually, I do plan to have an established establishment with a full pie menu, as well as some possible... extras, as much as I regale myself as a self-proclaimed pie purist. Which I think, self-proclamation is the only way to actually be proclaimed in pie purity... Uhm. So. Requests.

[ he holds up a little board that says "22-09" with a bright smile. ] This is my number should you care to stop by or, call. What better time for pie than when we all are, surely, in great need of comfort. And what more comforting food could there be.

Oh! Before I forget. For those of you who might come from terrible places without pie? There will be a pie-tasting assuming we don't all die of heat-exhaustion or giant invisible monsters.

[ another bright smile before he disconnects! ]

Annie -

[That’s George. That’s George, stinking drunk, gargling his friend’s name.]

Mitchell and I were, were talking, and we agreed that you really...spend too much time with -- with werewolf cultists. Cultists in general, really. It’s -- it’s quite bad. And you really ought to...stop. Now, please don’t...Just hear us, hear us out --

Tell her why.

[That’s Mitchell, equally slurred--a little quieter, because he’s not as near to the device as George is, as he’s mostly slumped against George’s shoulder.]

Tell her why, so she understands--she can’t join any cults, and she can’t just be making tea for cultists, it’s-- Christ, it’s hot, why is it so hot--

Heater’s broken, I expect.

[George gives a little burp. Class act, this one.]

But -- yeah, right. It’s...There are lots of reasons you can’t join cults, Annie. First. First, you’re only joining up because you’re in a...transitional point in your, in your life. And there’s nothing -- we still -- it’s really not...good, doing that just because you want...Erm--

[Yeah, he’s trying to remember what he gleaned about cults from having read Helter Skelter like three times in college. He’s not doing a great job.]

No, it’s...They’re just bad for you, is it. Werewolf cults. They’re never good.

Like any cults are good. They’re cults. If they were good, they’d-- not be cults, they’d be-- clubs. Girl Guides. [And like they didn’t just interrupt themselves, Mitchell returns to his previous concluding thought--] It’s no good tellin’ me the heater’s broken, this is-- this is space. Meant t’ be more technologically advanced, no landlords or breaking heaters. Just smiley faces and werewolf cults.

[George isn’t so drunk he can’t engage in a bit of sarcasm.] Well, that’s the explanation, Mitchell. It’s that or we’ve flown into a sun.

That’s not-- aah, shut up, would you. Cults. Talk about cults. They’re bad for you, brainwashing, all of it-- all of what you said, before--

Right. [Right.] Annie, we’re just...We’re worried about you, because the cultists, well, they’re, they’re bad on the face of it. And the others - there are others - the...You know the ones, Sherlock Holmes and the other one, they’ve - [His voice drops.] Annie, they’re not who they say they are. I’m about certain of it. [And a bit louder.] So this is an...an intervention, proper, like they do it on Intervention.

Not tellin’ you what t’ do. Just-- like on Intervention, yeah, but with less shouting and crying. Please let’s not do any crying, or-- pol… [Poltergeisting, but he loses momentum on the word about 25% of the way through.]

Pol-- [Oh, good, George has caught on and he’s here to help, and he is quite cognizant of the possibility of people hacking into this very private message, so he’s got a quick resolution to the word.] Pol...o matches. In the...the garden. Which is, which is how we-- we-- usually...work out...issues. [There. You’re welcome, Mitchell.]

Polo matches. [Even pissed, Mitchell can sound less-than-impressed with that. Wow, so cool. Polo matches.] Give me another beer, would you, I’m not going t’ discuss polo matches without more to drink.

All right-- [And the crack and hiss of a bottle of beer being opened, and he passes it to Mitchell. But yeah. Yeah. If anyone hacks this private message to Annie, their butts are covered.] Anyway. Annie. It’s...we’re...we’re doing this out of, of care. And worry. And...all that. Just...we are begging you, stop -- with the cults. No more cults. New house rule. No cults, no cultists. For anyone. I will not, not -- not be involved, and Mitchell won’t, and we can get Nina to sign off, too, I’m sure -- no more cults. Or we’ll, we’ll…

[Right, there are always consequences on Intervention if they don’t agree to cut out their bad behavior-- ]

No more cults, or we confiscate space Titanic. [This is serious. Serious consequences and serious threats.]

Right. [Good one.] And no more of the, the...hands-on-head thing. No more of that. So...Yeah. That’s - those are - that’s -- this is the, the trade.

[And that’s it. That’s the intervention.]





[Blue is George, red is Mitchell.]

[Tom is red-eyed and sniffling. It's hard for him to catch his breath, but he believes it's important for him to make this announcement, important to let people know that the vampire will be missed because despite everything Hal was a good person and Tom's best friend. His first friend really]

H-Hal Yorke is gone. I waited in the room with them pods 'til everyone was gone and he weren't there. I checked his room just in case, but...

Now I know some folk didn't like him, but he was my best mate even if he was an arse. 'e helped save the world and everything, so that makes him a good guy.

[Tears start to spill and Tom wipes his face with the back of his arm. The more the tears fall the thicker his accent becomes]

It maybe ain't fair that some folk just leave like that. He was doin' all sort of good ta make everythin' right and now it don't mean not since he ain't here. It ain't right that he just left like that not tell none, like we don't care. Like ah dick'ead.

[pause]

Probably best 'e's gone anyway since he was nothin' but trouble and too much work and complained and was jus' a stupid vampire that didn't matter no how.

[More tears and as Tom goes to wipe them away he drops the communicator so that the last image is of the floor in Hal's room]

[Godric is sitting, slumped casually in a chair in one of the common areas when he turns on the video feed. When he speaks, his tone is soft but clear, and he remains thoughtful as he speaks unhurriedly. This isn't a speech he's had planned out, but he knows what he wants to say.]

With every jump, we receive a variety of new passengers from a variety of different worlds. To some, this ship is not so dissimilar to what they are accustomed to. To others, it is the most foreign thing they have ever known. The worlds we come from vary like grains of sand, and although the welcome guide offers a rudimentary introduction into the unknown, and an invaluable insight into what has already come to pass here, it can only do so much to ease the culture shock.

As our worlds are different, so too are there differences in the types of people we are accustomed to, and how we react to those people. Some of you have vampires in your world, or werewolves, or shapeshifters. For others of you, these are merely fictional stories. But this ship acts as a nexus, and the first thing that any of us must understand is that all things are possible here, and not all things are as you might expect them.

I am a vampire, and not the only one aboard this ship. There are a few of us, but we are as varied as our worlds. Where some of us may have no reflection or cannot be recorded, for example, [he smiles here, the humor obvious] my kind certainly can. We have different cultures and different sleeping habits, and indeed, different eating habits, which is the thing that naturally concerns most newcomers.

While all vampires feed on human blood -- the sole thing we all have in common -- it can affect us differently according to our natures. Some of us, it seems, choose to refrain entirely from its consumption and come to no harm for it. Some of us can eat food and survive on that alone, the same as any human. And for those of us for whom this is not an option, there are synthetic options provided by medical, as well as many kind and generous people aboard who have willingly donated their blood so that we will not starve.

I tell you all this to reassure anyone who has recently come aboard, and found themselves alarmed by our presence. While I cannot vouch for all of us any more than a single human can vouch for all his species, I can say that most of us mean no harm, and wish only to live as peacefully as we can here. I tell you this also so that any vampire new to this ship can understand we are not in hiding, and that aggression is not welcome. And while I cannot speak for any other supernatural species aboard, I hope you will all understand that you have friends here.

[He leaves off there, but leaves the feed open for questions.]

I've been thinking about skills and teaching and that everyone has something they can do really well.

[Harry looks a bit sheepish making a network post, but when he's got an idea rattling around in his head, he needs to get it out. He's getting a bit better about thinking before speaking, but it's going to be a while before it becomes a habit.]

So, I was wondering, what can you do? What's your talent? And what can you teach? And, if you can teach something, would you be willing to share it with the rest of us here?

I can do magic and I'm not great at it, but I'd be happy to work with anyone else who wants to learn together.

[The woman who comes on the screen is beautiful, certainly, but also a little.... unearthly may be the word. Even if the pointed ears weren't visible, it would not be difficult to realize that she’s not human. But her smile is charming and genuine and she addresses the network with confidence and poise, which she hopes is some reassurance. ]

Two months it has been now and still I know so few of you. The fault is largely my own- I will admit to being somewhat overwhelmed by the strangeness of this place. But it is a misfortune that is easily resolved, is it not?

Others have asked for your tales; I think I will ask for your songs. Tell me of the music of your worlds, friends, and I will tell you of mine. It seems a topic worthy of conversation and it may bring some comfort to those who have only recently arrived.

[ jenna's hair is still wet from the customary post-jump four showers, all way too much of it piled in a knot on top of her head. it's almost a little odd to try and collect her thoughts enough for a post that used to be customary, and her smile flickers for a split second before she shakes her head and it returns, more determined. ]

Welcome, new freshman. [ she can't help huffing out a laugh at her own lame joke. ] Sorry, couldn't resist. More seriously, if we didn't skip another number sorry about the space kidnapping wave twenty one, but welcome to the Tranquility anyway. I'm sure there will be a lot of technical questions I can't answer at all, but the daily life thing is-- god help me, my normal by now so if any of you want to know about where the pool is, feel free to ask.

For anyone who wants to join in, there are dinners down on floor one. They're kind of a everybody pitches in deal, so it's work for food but trust me, after a little while here the work part isn't as bad because it has company attached. No screaming, no weapons, don't even think about starting a fight and no I don't care about the age-old household rivalry and honor right now about covers the basic rules.

[ she looks down, a little hesitant for the first moment. ]

Which brings me to part two: what to do if you don't can't survive on just traditional food. I know last month one of the other members of medical brought this up, but I wanted to add something-- I'm most experienced in dealing with the vampire side of things, but I understand coming forward isn't exactly ingrained for a lot of people. If you're not comfortable just yet and you need-- an advocate in medical, I guess, feel free to contact me.

[ a beat, and then she shakes her head and continues a little more briskly: ]

That's it, sorry again about the space kidnapping for the new kids.

[ for optimal viewing pleasure, please see the following and allow to run in the background as you enjoy this recording. though the only thing currently in the feed is an angled shot of the treetops in the gardens, this is not an accidental video. there's rustling in the background, like something's moving fast through the leaves coming closer, and it is moving.

a couple seconds later, myfanwy comes flying overhead, a small black shape on her back. it might not be terribly difficult to discern what it is, but don't worry if you miss it, because the pteranodon makes a screech and a sharp turn, sending the shape tumbling off her back towards the device.

river rolls over the feed when she hits the ground, dressed in her tq crew uniform with the legs cut into shorts, hair tied up in a messy bun and hands covered with fingerless black gloves that hardly fit her at all. sky-diving experts or anyone with military training might notice her roll is perfectly controlled to minimise damage, and when she comes back into view, her eyes are wide with adrenaline but she doesn't seem particularly bothered by her fall. ]

Test five. Flight successful. Notes: need to meet higher altitude, consider construction of a harness; ask permission first. No hard turns.

[ she looks away for a second and blinks. ]

I skinned my knees.

[ oops? that's all she says before cutting off the feed. a second later, she attaches a text message. ]

needed:

• driving goggles ( 1 )
• cowboy hat ( 2 )
• chocolate ( dark pref. )
• colors ( blue unnecessary )
• tour guide

accepting applications for the last. list name, ident, and qualifications below. willing to trade goods and services.

[ namely: simon's services and stolen goods. double oops? river's permission post is, as always, right yonder with all the necessary warnings and what have you! ]

[ dear tranquility. welcome to the network semi-debut of the hansel & gretel show. it starts with a semi-out of focus image of gretel as she adjusts the device to get both her and her brother (who should look familiar to some) in the picture. their weapons are visible in the background (it’s hard to miss a triple-action crossbow and a giant, phallic gun), but hansel blocks them from view as gretel has him stand next to her. she takes a moment to lean in and inspect it, frowning as she stands back and looks toward him. ]


I think it’s on. I’m still not sure how this thing works half the time.


[ taking a moment to eye the device with some obvious disdain, hansel turns his attention to gretel as she speaks, shrugging in response. can you guess which of the two of them decided to make this post? ]


How the fuck should I know? I still say this is a waste of time.


You might know if you bothered learning how to use it. [ jackass.


it’s a response that has him grinning now, though he does his best to hide it when he turns back to the device again. ]


So, you want to start?


[ gretel rolls her eyes, but resists the urge to smack him upside the head as she turns her attention back to the device. ]


All right. Hi, everyone. My name is Gretel and this [ she nods towards her brother ] is Hansel. We’re new arrivals to the ship, and we’ve heard that there’s need for the kind of services we provide.


We’re witch hunters. [ in case the weapons weren’t a giveaway ] So while you may not have the exact same kind of shit here we deal with back home, we know what we’re doing. [ see, he can be helpful here too, gretel. sometimes. ]


So if you run into anything you want taken care of, or if you think there may be leftover creatures in the darker sections of the ship, [ yes, she’s done her research (or as much as she could through the device) ] let us know. [ there’s a beat, and she glances toward hansel before speaking up again. ]


Also, if there’s anyone we can talk to from medical - [ well, he knows exactly where she’s going with this. so sorry sis, but that makes it time for him to take his leave temporarily. this is one topic he really doesn’t want to discuss on this network thing


gretel just glares at hansel’s retreating form before turning back to the device. ] - we need to do that as soon as possible. Thanks for your time.



ooc; purple = gretel; green = hansel. as a heads up to anyone replying, you’ll undoubtedly be doubleteamed by the pair. if you specifically only want to speak to one character (or have two individual threads), just give us a warning!

ETA: and yes, fourth-walling the fairy tale is welcome and encouraged.

[...there's a second of white noise, because-- well, this is weird. It's like online chatrooms, which Mitchell has never been keen on, to say the least. One on one communication hasn't been so bad--better, actually, considering he's been mostly holed up in his room, avoiding human/werewolf contact. But, right--necessity--]

If people are going t' go through those tubes and get onto that other ship, do their phones keep on working? These devices, I mean. Do they go that far? If they do, and if this can be heard over there, I'm making a request. Space pirates had to have cigarettes on them, yeah, and I'm in need of cigarettes. Sanctioned looting can include a bit of personal stuff, yeah-- and it's sort of a, a desperate need. Please and thanks in advance.

[Like very desperate. Like the more he talks about it, the more strained his voice goes. Vampires with nicotine addictions, it's a hard life. A pause, then, he might finish there--but instead he sucks in a breath. Right. Normal.]

Actually, there's a lot of questions on how things work around here, and not all of it is out of our control. Like--so there's a cast of, what, a hundred plus of us, and we have t' trade for things that we need, if someone else has got them. But if you don't have anything t' trade, is it just-- begging for it? Hoping for a bit of Christian charity? Every man for himself? Not that I'd be much surprised by that one, given the... [Maybe it's better not to finish that one, in light of recent events, but given his low faith in humanity, and given his own recent exploints, none this is really all that surprising. So, wry once more:] ...given the situation.

[An awkward pause.]

Anyways. Thanks again.

[He looks unusally grave as he addresses the network.]

Remus Lupin here. I think most of you know me. Er-- if not, well, there's your introduction. I've been on the ship for a number of months, and I've been noticing a few things.

Well, it's just-- we have fantastic organization when it comes to security and the medical bay, but we don't actually have any laws. And while we've been fortunate enough to have a peaceful crew and not need any yet-- any against stealing or, thank god, killing-- well, who knows what the next Jump will bring?

[Right. He takes a deep breath and scratches his nose, thinking for a few seconds before continuing.]

It's not just that I like rules and order-- although, frankly, that's part of the reason. But listen: without any sort of law in place, we have no real authority if and when a crime is committed. If someone kills someone else, what are we going to do? We can't rely on mob rule and what people think should be done-- god, that's how things disintegrate.

[He grimaces.]

What happened to the remaining pirates-- that cannot be allowed. What sort of society are we? We can't simply murder people because they attacked us! Keep them in the brig, yes, and we can discuss what should happen next, if they ought to be brought into the crew eventually under supervision, or kept there for life-- but we can't just slaughter them because we felt vaguely threatened. And if someone does-- as just happened-- then we need to punish them.

So with that in mind-- well, here, look at what I've written up. It's attached, I think I did it right-- and tell me what you think.

[A text document is attached. There's basic laws written out: against killing, stealing, embezzling, and so on and so forth. The punishments consist of being locked in the brig for a number of weeks, with some options for a sort of community service rehabilitation for lesser crimes.]

[ When these sort of announcements go up, John is usually one of the people replying to them, waiting for orders or confirming them. He hasn't stepped into a leadership role on the ship, hasn't even been too social, and he's been just fine with that. But Tyke's injured, in Medical, and she had sent him a message: "Take SEC".

And so he does.

It's not his first time giving orders, though it's been some time, and he doesn't like to think about those last times. Still, John's the picture of a good Marine when the camera flicks on, the chain of his dog tags visible around his collar. ]

Tranquility, this is Staff Sergeant John Grimm. [ "Reaper" lies unsaid, his handle lurking on his tongue and in the tattoo hidden under his sleeve. ] We've done a thorough sweep and the pirates are all either dead or captured. You're clear to return to work and to your rooms. Anyone injured should report to Medical, if they haven't done so already.

Anything the pirates taken hasn't been put back yet. If you want to do inventory on what's missing [ or where, he thinks; they were just practically ripping the walls apart in some places, after all ] then we can work on getting things back to where they belong.

[ Beat. ]

You may all be wondering why I'm telling you this instead of Tyke. She's [ his gaze flickers for a moment, taking a breath; he's worried ] currently out of commission and had me take Security until she recovers. I don't know any more than that at this time.

[ And he's fairly certain Tyke wouldn't want him to go around dropping details about how he's doing anyway. Now's the part where John looks a bit awkward, like he's not sure how to finish up. ]

If you have questions, ask them.

[ locked to KAZAMA SOUJI, FAITH LEHANE, BRAD COLBERT, and MASON LOCKWOOD ]

If you're not injured, I want to add the brig and surrounding area to your patrols. When Tyke comes back, she can make her own judgment call.

(welcome to the shuttle bay with han and obi-wan. excuse the fact that there's a shuttle that han's stripped and that obi-wan generally looks like he has a bad feeling about all of this.)

I think if you follow the guidelines set by the Security Team, you should be safe. Stay in groups. Don't engage.

(there's a beep and a long protest as Arfour says something, but she's not in view. that's when han just takes off his goggles off to actually prove obi-wan wrong.)

No, this is what you do. If you see a pirate? Shoot them. (wait, this is a jedi he's talking to.) Or use the Force, you know what you do.

(obi-wan looks irritated for a moment, but he'll take this moment to roll his eyes and cross his arms)

If you don't have training, don't engage.

If you don't have training, get someone else to shoot them. If they talk to you, shoot them. If they even look at you, shoot them. If they ask you how you're doing, shoot them. If they're dying outside your room, watch them die and then shoot them to make sure they don't get up.

(han's getting a little serious about this.)

I'm going back to work.

(aaaaaand Obi-Wan walks a little away, Arfour beeping after him, but she's still not visible on screen)

Don't touch anything, I'm redoing the - (han was running after him before running back to turn off the communicator.)