Transmigration 9: Brave New Worlds
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21st-Jun-2012 05:17 pm - Distress Call
There was no warning before all of Stacy's holograms throughout the ship turned on, showing a very grim-looking Kanil.

"This is Admiral Kasna, of the GIA High Command."

The face, and the name, was familiar to some of the older crew.

"We are in dire need of assistance in the Pari'qa'dul System of Universe SL1609P. Recently, several of the planets and moons in the system have come under a coordinated attack, and we do not have the manpower to handle it. If anyone is close enough to hear this message, please, we need your help as soon as possible. Coordinates, as well as information on every hotspot, are attached."

The message repeated one more time before the hologram of the Admiral was replaced by Stacy.

||Attention crew. This was the distress call I received moments ago from GIA command. Universe SL1609P is a remote universe with limited resources on some of its planets and colonies, accessible by only a few routes in the Bleed and as a result, the GIA, who are currently in the midst of heated battle with the Ohm, are unable to send aid. Moments before we received their distress call, the Tapestry went active, providing visions of crew members taking on this mission.||

A list with the names of the crew members appeared.

||Whether or not these crew members take on this mission is their own choice, but the mission's success and the lives of civilians may depend on it. As for information on the threat, GIA intelligence is receiving reports from military and local law enforcement on the affected colonies and planets that this is not an attack by Catastrophists or any other known terrorist or piracy group. This new group is entirely unknown and is attacking these GIA worlds with a variety of MOs used for their criminal acts and acts of terror. The only connections that have been found between these individuals and groups is the timing and scattered communication between them--they all seem to be geared towards destabilizing the planets' governments and causing chaos.||

||This group needs to be investigated because it may be a new player in the overall war, innocent lives hang in the balance, and this is a chance for the crew to strengthen their alliance with the GIA. The Daligig are already spreading propaganda against the Trans 9.||

Newslinks and video of the Daligig denouncing the crew as going rogue flashed across her holographic screens.

||We need some way of offsetting it or we may be cut off entirely from GIA resources.||

[ooc: People in any place in the ship can ask Stacy questions or discuss this development with other crew members. The people on the lists provided by the Tapestry are whichever people sign up for the miniplots oocly.]
cityship: (Stacy--True Stacy)
12th-Jun-2012 09:53 pm - Meet N' Greet
||Initiating Meet and Greet. Crew members, for the sake of morale, there will be periodic meetings on the Obs Deck so that newer members of the crew can be welcomed and so the crew can communicate with one another.||

Apparently, Stacy liked to throw a party now and again.

[ooc: Anyone may start new threads here]
cityship: (Stacy--True Stacy)
At the Saganami Naval Academy on Gryphon, a younger Honor had utilized numerous in-depth, realistic tactical simulators in her training to be a starship commander, all of which frequently used intricate holographic projections to put one 'in the thick' of combat.

When compared to the Sensoriums of Transmigration 9, however, Saganami Academy was about as cutting edge as a puppet theater.

For a time Honor experimented with it, materializing random objects, calling to mind old locals and places, memories and scenarios: the windswept plains of Gryphon, the cliffs and jungles of Sphinx, the domes of Grayson.

In a fit of nostalgia, she briefly called up the bridge of HMS Troubador that she had so recently from her perspective been snatched, standing in that cramped space of holo-displays and controls as midshipmen and tac officers rushed about.


Then she dismissed it, shaking her head.

"Time to get down to brass tacks." She says to Nimitz, summoning up a perch for him.

The treecat sits there contentedly, blissfully munching on some celery pinched from the gardens.

And Honor buckles down and throws herself into some hardcore combat training. Anyone can wander in and interrupt/train with her/learn from her/teach her.

Insert Power Rock Ballads at your leisure.
herhonorness: (Default)
The first thing that Natasha Romanoff - as she had allowed herself to be called in recent years - had done after she had popped out of a gooey pod (and subsequently gotten clothed, briefed on the situation at hand, and retrieved her weapons) was familiarize herself with the spaceship that she had found herself on. It had taken a long while - the size of the ship made the SHIELD Helicarrier seem akin to a SmartCar - but she’d scoured as much of the place as she could, because it was always useful to know one’s bearings.

Especially in a situation like this... )
dance_with_death: (Listening)
The surprising thing about Stacy was the Doctor hadn’t thought she couldn’t be more beautiful, in all her (sometimes) slimy, brilliant glory.

Then he saw her true face, right before she fought back with the rest of the crew.

Ah. So maybe he can be wrong from time to time, the Doctor finding that life on Stacy with the rebellion was easier in that you weren’t stumbling over Daligig or Kessek giving their impressive glowers, as if it was difficult not to just step on you and be done with (well, that and trying to avoid them when they decided enough was enough and it was far too long since they’d shot anything)…and then there was the clean-up. Considering how hard the Daligig had fought back, the Doctor had to say he expected far more casualties than Stacy’s crew had and this was probably the part where that voice in the back of his head bothering him with all sorts of things like niggling feelings.

It was probably telling him all sorts of annoyingly logical things, like in the end they probably should have been spacedust. He told it to shush.

The Doctor threw himself into trying to fix the TARDIS now that he had a second wind of sorts. With Stacy being twice as beautiful as before, the work was coming along much faster than before, now that she wasn’t resisting him. In fact, he’d go so far that she’d even given him advice – not that he’d be ready to admit to his companions that yes, the Doctor could at times need jiggery-pokery tips from a ship. At this rate, he thought he could actually tell Jamie, Barbara, Ian, Victoria and all his other friends a proper when instead of hedging around it and sending them on errands to get parts he didn’t even need. The Doctor roamed the halls of Stacy, sometimes in the hanger, sometimes rummaging about the City, picking his way through the damage and looking for anything that could stand in for an influx injector (or a toaster. A toaster would actually be better than a standard-issue injector!).

So yes. Right! The Doctor was in need of a toaster/influx injector. He just may temporarily kidnap anyone – or anything – he thought might be useful on that front.

[The Doctor will have met your character and kidnapped them for this. This is basically for characters okay with having somewhat short-term CR with Eleven (probably a few months OOCly?) and continuing CR )]
makeherblue: (009)
Podded and popped again? Billy was less than enthusiastic, especially considering the circumstances. He'd been podded to hinder the engineers---of that, he was certain. He hadn't tried nearly hard enough to affirm his loyalty to the Daligig. Billy would really have to work on his ability to lie.
And his ability to not immediately jump to the worst possible conclusion. )
morphitudinous: (Seriously oozing)
||Pod Release Protocols Initiating...||

Stacy's familiar voice sounds out to all the podmates through the ship. In the Pod Caverns, there are the sounds of: Pop. Poppop. KASCHUNKhiiiiiiiissssss.

There was nothing. You were going about your normal life, then there was a bright light, and then? Nothing.

Then the world lurches. The chamber here is humid. Actually, "chamber" isn't quite accurate. You're in a cavern, half-lit by an eerie greenish light, going on and on as far as the eye can see. The light is coming from what can only be described as pods, glistening, round greenish-yellow things, glowing with a pale inner light, outlining human — and not quite human — forms. Each is rooted to the floor, to the walls, with something black, twisted, and unidentifiable. They line the walls of the cavern, go up in maddeningly high columns, curling and corkscrewing up into the darkness, until the light from them is like that of the stars, glowing pale and mournful in clusters in the darkness above. Twisted walkways and stairs crisscross, traverse the platforms in front of the pods, wending their way back and forth, up and down through the chamber.

You just came from one of those pods, broke free like a butterfly from a (slimy, nasty) chrysalis. Now you stand alone but not quite alone, naked, not knowing how you got there, who took you, or why you were taken. As your body heats up again, you realize the air is warm — just a few degrees too warm to be comfortable — and muggy; it smells acrid and organic, like freshly spilt blood and sweat. Your mouth tastes of salt.

The floors are pulsing under your feet, throbbing. Wherever you are, this entire alive.

Oh, and also you're naked and covered in alien snot.

When you call out, ask where you are, a voice speaks to you, in your head. She tells you: ||You are here.||

When you ask who she is, she tells you that her name is STA'C K'LTRRB'TXFT, but that you may call her Stacy. When she tells you who she is, there is a gush of emotion, love, maternal warmth. You are on a ship. She is that ship. Her name is Stacy and she loves you. Her voice is warm and motherly, even if these messages sound almost automated.

Glowing phosphorescent lights appear in pustules along the floor. They lead you up a massive spiraling walkway that gives you a view of what are possibly millions in stasis. At the top is a room with moving vines that clean you and clothe you in a plant-like body-suit--soft, but durable. After that, the lights lead you to a great cavernous room with a clear floor that lets you see all the holes and tunnels in the walls of it. When you reach the center, the last thing she tells you before whisking you away to gather your belongings and meet the rest of the crew is this reassuring thought:

||You have been Chosen to accomplish a Great Purpose. You have been Chosen to help save the Multiverse from Destroyers of Worlds. You have been Chosen as champions of life, as protectors of the worlds and peoples that are left. The others are waiting for you.||

A vast chamber with countless shelves and lockers has your belongings in them. Before you're whisked off even further up the transport tubes to the Living Areas of the ship, a comm-ring and a device called an omnicom is pressed into your hands by a tentacle. A guide autoplays telling you the cold, impossible truth:

Your world is gone and your only chance to restore it may lie in discovering the well-guarded secrets of the horrible beings that destroyed it in the first place. The fate of every reality and timeline that has ever been and ever will be rests on your shoulders.

Welcome to the Meatship.

[ooc: This would likely be set after rebellion as that might be easiest but if you'd like to set it during, let the mods know and we'll try to make arrangements for you. After they get their belongings, you may post a joint IC intro or separate ones, in a more open place in the ship, like Obs Deck. Let the mods know if you need any help!]
cityship: (Stacy--True Stacy)
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