Attention, citizens.

I have located a perpetrator of criminal larceny.

Her appearance: seemingly human, not quite two meters in height, lean, ill-shaven; a fringe dweller, outside the settlement density perimeter, likely an arrival from a more recent jump. [ More recent than herself, she means. ]

When confronted she pretended compliance before affecting a transformation into a mammalian monster. Teeth, claws, pelt, accelerated healing. Increased sized and strength. She fled after I fired my sidearm, wounding her leg.

I have pursued her to a ridge some distance from the river. [ coordinates are provided ] I am having trouble keeping pace. If anyone with combat experience is nearby, backup would be beneficial.

We should take her alive, if possible. Justice must be served.

(( OOC Note: This post refers to an encounter with Flint Deckard, not the ongoing modplot about thefts in the camp. So much crime, so little time! ))

[The feed opens on Tyke in the SEC offices, expression the usual set lines that indicate another security broadcast, another load of fucked up going down on the TQ.]

This is Tyke, head of Security. You all saw that. We need to go in, find them, and get them to safety.

[Certain and hard on the last. This won't be a repeat of the Scylla. She's determined not to play into Ward and Resnik's hands again, but she's fully aware it won't be possible to hold anyone back from getting involved.]

Don't underestimate the hallways. You're heading out, come down to SEC, floor 001, pick up supply packs and weapons. Get in a team if you don't have one.

[There are rows of ship-standard black duffel bags sat on the long board table behind her, packed up, ready to go. She hasn't waited around. She's been preparing since Gunnery's announcement. But there have been some changes on any single plans of recon and recovery, because now their people are under threat, and she knows her priorities.]

Anyone not heading out, get to medbay. We're gonna secure and fortify it, get it stocked. You need an escort getting over there, call us.

[A beat, frowning at the camera.]

Watch out for each other.

[ jax’s hair is still wet and dripping, but he’s made it down to gunnery, has his comm in his lap, hoodie over the back of his seat. he’s lighting up a cigarette, lets it dangling from his lip as he stows his lighter away. ]

Looks like another batch of new arrivals, right? Everyone make it okay?

[ as flippant as it sounds, it’s a genuine question. jax pauses a minute, then drags a hand back through his wet hair as he continues speaking. ]

I’m betting someone’s gonna post up the How-To guide any minute now, but for now you’ll have to make do with the informal shit.

[ and you can’t really get any more informal than jax, who tips his head back to blow a smoke ring, buy himself some time before he starts speaking. ]

I’m Jax Teller, I’m the CGO and if you got interest in lending a hand down in Gunnery, come down and see me. You got interest in any of the other shit, Sciences or Engineering or Flight or running Security for this barge, speak up, someone’ll point you in the right direction. We’re all about lending a hand these days. [ jax grins around his cigarette, lifts a hand to lift it away as he exhales a stream of smoke. ] Other than that, you’re in space, yeah. Don’t do anything stupid, read the Survival Guide, and you’ll be fine.

[ for a given definition of fine, anyway. which jax is clearly aware of, flashing a grim smile at the camera, flicking ash from the tip of his cigarette as he tacks on-- ]

And if you want smokes, talk to Ned.

[ at which point jax snickers to himself, then hangs up. teller out. ]

[ Erik’s voice is low and rough, raw tension metered in the effort he makes to keep himself in check. ]

There is no force in this universe that has our best interests at heart.

We’re stowaways on a stolen warship. Van Rijn is hunting for us.

From what little we know of him, we may deduce that he is not a man celebrated for his mercy. If we are taken on Van Rijn’s terms, we will be subject to his rule -- not as people, but as scientific curiosities. Collateral damage. Pirates. Witnesses. He has no obligation to follow through on any promise his men make.

We are not citizens of this world. We don’t have rights.

Be discreet. Keep communications apprised of any contact you have with his crew. If we are to engage with him, it must be on our terms. If his forces breach this vessel, be prepared to fight for your lives.

[ There’s a pause, as if he’s checking notes. ]

For those of you unfamiliar with the basic operation of Tranquility-issue space suits and armaments, now is the time to learn.

[ ...And a moment of silence for his self-control buckling under the strain of formal address. ]

As of this moment, if I discover that any one of you has taken it upon yourselves to pander away further intelligence on this ship or your fellow passengers in exchange for safe passage -- hope that Van Rijn finds you before I do.

[ He ends that sentence, and so the transmission, with a bristling quiver at the tail of his diction and an abrupt punch of his forefinger. Magneto out. ]

Boy, that was a close one! That gas formation was a clever trick.

Hello there.

I know I've already spoken to some of you—I had hoped to do this individually—but it appears we need to move things along more quickly than we'd realized. That ship of yours seems eager to shake us, and we simply can't let that happen.

My name is Lina Barnez. The rest of the team and I have been working on contacting the Tranquility for some time. Unfortunately, our tech isn't perfectly compatible with what you're running on. It hasn't been easy, but we're managing. I don't know how long we'll have.

We're here to help you, but in order to do that, we'll need you to help us. You've been through a lot on this ship: it's a miracle so many of you are still with us. We'd like to make sure you stay that way, but we can only do that if you're completely honest with us.

We know about the events on Strela, the Cyllene and Arima, as well as the Scylla. What happened to those poor people was not your fault, and you have my word that we have no plans to hold you responsible for those events.

But we need to work together to make sure it doesn't happen again. The more you tell us about what's been going on aboard the Tranquility, the more we can do.

[ NOTE: All conversations will be cut off before too long by the engines suddenly powering back up, and the jump alarm sounding to alert characters to proceed to medbay immediately. ]

Okay, so I have a weird question.

[ In that it's probably really obvious but Sam feels the need to ask anyway. ]

If, say, that smiley face guy contacted you, would it be totally amazingly stupid to do what he wants? --Hypothetically speaking. [ Or not. ]

I mean, what if he has answers about why we're here? Wouldn't you want to know?

[ As he fumbles with the buttons to end the feed, you may overhear something to the effect of "Rich would know..." ]

[Bucky's a more than occasional visitor to the Shuttle Bay, having offered to lend a hand in return for training with the previous CFO. This is the first time in a while he's been back, though, and the view out's as distracting as ever. Maybe more.

He's standing in front of the windows, looking out at the rolling cloud.]

Kind of foggy out, isn't it. Pretty enough, though. Makes you wonder what could be out there, just out of sight.

[He turns, then, engine grease on his jumpsuit and streaking his face. He could almost have walked right out of a Brooklyn autoshop.]

I've been thinking about what I've missed back home. Christmas, Easter, maybe a birthday or two, or two thousand with the way time goes up here. I always did like holidays - they let you know where you are, where you've been. Even with the war on... well, I guess people needed the excuse to smile at each other. Now it feels like I've lost track of something important.

[He shrugs one shoulder, though. That's a little too much looking inward.]

So I'm wondering, what do you all celebrate, where you're from? And what do you picture might be out there, past the clouds?

I can't say I know very much about space, or how this spaceship works, but I have a few questions.

What does it run on, and who's piloting?

And is there a reason that we can stop by at the nearest planet and get off this thing? Anything has to be better than this, right?

[There's a pause.]

If these are stupid questions, I'd rather you just explain why, and spare me the sarcasm.

Looks like someone forgot to pay their electric bill.

[Nick looks only mildly amused. He's actually had that happen, and it's not so fun, but someone's already said that they're working on it, so....]

There's way too much crappy art on board this thing, and not enough crappy artists showing themselves. I'm getting a little bored of chasing ghosts.

['Unnerved' would probably be a better word, not that he'll admit it.]

So if anyone's got a deck of cards or some dice, let's get something going. We don't even have to gamble, not unless you're willing to take a silver filling for payment.

[There's a moment where Steve is turning on his device; it still takes him a bit, because he's not quite used to it yet. But now it's video. He's not quite smiling, but there is something lighter about his face.]

I found a dog in the Oxygen Gardens. He seems really friendly, like he's used to people, and he followed me right back out. I gave him some food and some water, but I'm not his owner.

[The camera moves and shows a stately chocolate lab, looking adorable, up at Steve. He is sitting in a "good sit" position, practically vibrating with I'm a good dog, love me rays.]

Does he belong to anyone? I'd like to find him his owner.

[Marissa turns on the video the day after the jump. She clears her throat, turning the device so it frames her face just so. The first thing that's obvious is that she has a gnarly black-eye, courtesy of Hanna. The background is just a wall with no distinctive marks. It also may be strange that she's wearing dark gloves. Another strange thing is, she might look a lot like your resident psychic elf and queen of England...

She smiles, and to some it might be a reassuring smile, but to some others, it might be a little off. Her accent is Southern, and her voice is authoritative.] Hello. My name's Marissa Wiegler. I wanted to explain the debacle that was yesterday.

There is a girl on this ship. Her name is Hanna. She is a very disturbed girl. Her father has brainwashed her into thinking I would do her harm, turning her into a deadly weapon for his own selfish benefit. She is highly dangerous and manipulative. I don't recommend talking to her or interacting with her at all.

She has already assaulted me once. It won't happen again. I will be in hiding until I can be sure that I will be safe. Do not be fooled. She was genetically altered to be the perfect soldier.

Trust me. And stay safe.

[And she turns off the feed. For the curious, this is the ongoing thread of the 'debacle'.]

[There a click on, and the clear sound that someone is there, but there's a pause, like maybe someone is making sure.]

Is this broadcast going through?

I think I got it-

Hello, Tranquility, my name is Steve Rogers.

I'd like to be directed to whoever is in charge of Security, if that's not too much trouble. And I'd like to know if it's possible to see out into space. Are there any windows on board?

[Annnnd a pause, and a fumble.]

Is it off?

[And then another pause.]

Sorry, excuse me-

[And NOW it's off.]

[ There's no telling how much effort it takes for Bruce to actually look tired in a video feed. It's something he's taught himself not to do: awake is awake, and stolen moments of sleep are sleep--cautious, batarang under the pillow sleep. The moments have to be separate, with very little in between, and so Bruce hardly knows tired any more.

What does the trick in the end - what really gives him the worn, haunted look of a man desperately looking for something that he can't find - is the memory of his parents, ghostly and just out of reach, talking to him with words that he just can't hear; a residual image left behind by the mask. He adopts it, weaves it into his story: gaunt, eyes dark from supposed lack of sleep, Bruce fumbles his device and turns it on as though he's just woken - in fact he's been awake for hours, scheming - staring bleakly down into the lens. ]

This place gets to you even in your sleep. [ A deliberate shudder, eyes jumping from one corner of his room to the other, as though something might leap from the shadows. ] Is anyone else awake?

( Private to Crane )

[ Once again, Howard hasn't been answering his calls, so once again Tosh is determined to hunt him down. He isn't in his room or in Engineering, however, nor in the Science labs. But his signature shows up as a labeled blinking light on her datapadd, one of the only three she's entered so far. It's in an area of the ship she's not expecting, but she's determined. Armed with her gun and a flashlight (just in case), she heads out to find him.

When the blip stops moving, and she starts getting close, she turns on her comm to make a transmission. The video is shaky because she's moving, but shows her face as she holds the comm out in front of her as she walks. ]

It's probably nothing to be concerned over, but does anyone know why Howard Stark might be out in this area of the ship? Has anyone spoken to him today? He hasn't been answering messages and it's got me a li-

[ The video shows her stopping dead in her tracks, a look of horror on her face as she shrieks and drops the comm device. As it hits the floor, a red, wet splatter covers the screen, and then the transmission cuts off. ]


[OOC: Tosh has discovered what's left of Howard Stark. Action for capt_greatcoat only. Network tags will be replied to as voice only for the time being. Posted with permission from compressibility.

ETA: Post is now open for Security to tag as action if you like. The only thing to be found is a lot of blood, Tosh is taking the arc reactor and Howard's comm (for now). ]

Tranquility.

[ Chase's voice is hollow, face void of emotion. She's addressing her communicator by holding it up and pointing it at her face, somewhere in one of the hallways. Slowly, her lips turn to a frown. ]

The walls are painted red, but not with blood. There are three--past. Present. Future. More line the walls but these are the focus, these are what's meant to be. It's Tranquility.

[ Her lips quirk, though through the entire thing she doesn't blink but if you look quickly, there's a flash of purple in her eyes. ]

There's a cross, there's man on a cross and then there's whispers. Keep your secrets and guard them well. There's no violence, only in the paintings, but just in case--just in case. Don't speak to the walls, the walls can hear.



[ Heaven's Fence Encryption 100% - Tyke, Captain Kirk, Spock, Tony Stark, Neal. ]
Some of you told me to contact you before this. I felt a warning was appropriate to the general crew.

Neal told his secrets and now they know. They never forget. [ She clears her throat, and, finally, her gaze falls downwards, finally blinking. ]

Mr. Smiley is not part of the Tranquility. But he's laughing as he paints them and there's--there's...

It's not just machinery in holes. Not just parts. Mind the gap, the gap might bite back. [ Even if she doesn't understand it, she figures it bears explaining. ]

[ the lockdown and patrols with nothing but jackshit at the end of it all would key faith up anyway; but she doesn't see what the goddamn problem is with putting on a freaking mask-- because she's really bad at her job sometimes-- and so the face she turns to the network may currently be mask free, but that's half the story. ]

Well, that was bullshit. SEC hauled ass around in the balls out really freaking cold for days, and I didn't get a single fight out of it.

[ but she's rly super glad everyone's okay, honest. ]

Anybody wanna fix that?

...just if you're any good at a little rough stuff and won't bitch, no offense to the civilians or anything but I don't feel like holding hands and kissing boo-boos.

[ this is the destiny chosen savior of the world, people. why. how. why. what was destiny smoking? ]

Let me know, I guess.


( ooc | tyke gets herself a brawl today but other than that, no set plans. )

[Hey Tranquility. This is a face that's been kind of missing for a while, and boy does he look tired. Tired and worn and just kind of like a kid who's seen way too much shit in way too short a time.]

Hey, um. [Well, that's eloquent. And kind of scratchy, like he hasn't actually spoken in a few days. He clears his throat, shifts around a bit, and tries again.] I'm back, sorry... for disappearing, I guess. We got stuck in a weird part of the ship when lockdown hit.

[There's a long bit of silence where James just kind of looks off to the side of his communicator, spacing out. And it's more than obvious that he's pale, with dark circles under his eyes. A bit gaunt from not really being able to find much food from his little getting lost thing.]

Libby's... gone. And I found... if I can just- if a Miles and a Jesse who knew her can get in touch, that'd be... she told me to tell you.

[For now, he's saying nothing about the latest addition to his room.]