Throughout everything, one might think that Katara would forget family: she hadn't. But between training by herself, training with the Outsiders, helping out friends, researching things in the library and gathering clues about the last encounter she'd had with the Seer, it had been really hard to see Sokka lately. Sure, they were both in the Outsiders, but they only got to meet then on occasion, and for brother and sister that was definitely not enough. Katara had been hoping to talk to Sokka about a lot of things that had been going on lately, and frankly, she missed him. He was her brother, and they had been much closer than this when they were in their world.

And even that was still a little hard to think about. She wondered how Sokka had taken the news. The first few days had been hard for her (Asuka hadn't helped) and even finding out Toph was on the ship, while softening thge blow, hadn't completely eliminated the empty feeling Katara would get when she thought of the Southern Water Tribe and how she might never get to see it again. So right now, more than ever, she wanted to see her big brother.

The Sensorium was now background with the Southern Water Tribe, and you could see Sokka's old snow fort in the distance, along with the bathroom igloo and the remains of the Fire nation ship that invaded those any years ago. A bad memory...but one that needed to stay fresh for both of them. She sat patiently, waiting for Sokka to arrive.

Leon had called for a full staff meeting for the Security team, though it was also open to whoever else wanted to attend. He had gone easy on his group since the Bridge mission, mostly giving them time to rest, recover, and deal with the things they've all been told. But now it was time to start moving forward again.

The meeting was being held in the Precinct, in one of the larger conference rooms. He gave time for people to file in and sit down where they would. Once everyone was settled, he addressed the group.

"First of all, thank you all for coming. For those of you who don't know me, I'm Special Agent Leon S. Kennedy, from the United States Strategic Command, and current Chief of Security here about Transmigration 9.

"A couple of weeks ago, we all learned some startling information. That our worlds were gone, destroyed by the Ohm, and we're all that remains. That we've been chosen to travel across the multiverse to fight the Ohm, save what remains, and possibly restore what was lost.

"All of that may or may not be true, and we have people working to verify that one way or another. The only thing we know for sure is that, unfortunately, we're all stuck here for a while.

"Because of that, there'll be a few changes around here, most of which you'll hear straight from the Captain and the Commanding Officers in the coming days. As for this department in specific...

"Security was formed with the intent to be the first line of defense for this crew; to protect them from any threats on this ship, and sometimes to protect them from each other. That hasn't changed, and never will. How we operate is going to change, however.

"For the most part, we've taken a defensive posture, waiting for something to go wrong before we deal with it. But a Fix on Fail strategy isn't going to work anymore. Now, before you get started, no, we are not going to start hunting down and locking up crew members who may be a problem someday maybe." He wanted to be clear on that point, particularly with a crew as prone to kneejerk reactions as this one. "But, acid spitting roaches, one of which was crossbred with an Ohm; a variety of class 4 viral and biological weapons, all gathered in a failed experiment to create a biological weapon to annihilate the Ohm; the Nightmare King trapped in Escherville; HAL 9000; the Yeerks... these are all threats that originated on board. Things that were left behind when the previous crew abandoned ship.

"We need to find out what else they left behind; what other experiments they had going that have been left unattended for God knows how long. To that end, we need to root through every section of this ship, search it from stem to stern to locate and deal with these problems. We'll also be working with Engineering and Neuropathy to locate threats and malicious programs in the computer systems.

"In addition, we're also going to be expanding our duties to become a full blown Emergency Services Unit. We have to be able to deal with everything from heated arguments and hazmat spills to heart attacks and hull breaches. Some people here would be better suited for certain tasks than others, but everyone will crosstrained in a number of disciplines. I don't want to be caught short handed because we only had a few people trained to handle, say, hazmat spills, happened to be on an away mission, or were busy running through a maze, looking for cake.

"As for dealing with the crew themselves, Stacy has generally handled that, but we do have a bit more leeway now. We can interfere physically in conflicts between crew members without worrying about violations, provided you're not using excessive force. If you feel the behavior of a crew member has warranted something more than just a violation, you can haul them down to the brig where they can sit and cool off for a day or two, and any other additional penalties will be handed down by senior command, if necessary." Because that whole trial thing worked out ever so well last time.

"We have a lot of work to do, people. None of us want to be stuck here, but so long as we are, we need to make sure everyone stays as safe as possible."

((OOC: Beneath the two subthreads, people are free to talk to each other and free thread however they wish.))

The ship was to loud, or to quite, Alia didn't know. Hrr sheets hurt her skin, her mind burned with a grandfather of a sandstorm, tearing her flesh from the inside out.
The voices...
Since last week, when she had shouted at the memories of her grandfather, Baron Valdimir Harokonnen, things had only become progressively worse. Every soul with in here was clawing tooth and nail for control, for a moment in her flesh like she had given to him. They all wanted their piece of her, and she had none of herself left to give anymore.
The sorrow of her dear brother's death burned like a fire in her heart, paired with the loss of her husband, and her arrival here where she was prodded and probed by her family from the future.
They all knew something, they all knew what the future held and they would not tell her. The Bene Gesserit witches holding their power over her, as they always had. Even here she could not escape their tyranny and oppression. They had created the monster she was, and then left her to suffer under the weight of her own abomination that was crushing her even now.

It had been hard to find him, with out the use of a computer. But somehow in Alia's tormented state she was able to find the door.
Alia stood there now, just before it, her body trembled like a leaf, her mind screaming. If she where not fremen, she would have cried.
Hesitating, Aia did not knock at first, her eyes closed tight against the pain within her.
"duncan..."
But Duncan was not here...
He was all she had to turn to...

Alia raised her hand and knocked unevenly, with out rhythm, shaking and crying she waited. Praying with the only silver of her mind she still controlled that he would answer the door and save her with those blue eyes that reminded her so much of his.

Leaf hadn't intended to end up in the city, but the faint scent of trees had attracted her. And if there was a chance of finding some sort of green on the ship, she was interested in it. She missed proper landscape-there was always the sensorium, but she still didn't entirely trust it. This, at least, smelled like it was permanent, and not something that would fade away.

She made her way through the scab cautiously, her ears splayed out and her hackles up as she tried to ignore the buildings looming overhead. As the scent of trees got stronger, she picked up her pace, finally breaking into a lope in hopes of finding natural shelter faster. But once she found it, she skidded to a halt, eyeballing it warily.

The entwined trees of the temple smelled as they should, that was true. But seeing them entwined to form something made her uneasy. Leaf stepped closer to the temple entrance, then stopped just outside it, peering in and flicking her ears back and forth uncertainly.

As usual, Static really hadn't thought this whole thing through. They were going to meet, here, after training. That was basic; it made sense. They'd given each other some time to head back, clean up after the horrific spectacle that was Super-powered Rugby... who won and who lost was obviously not an issue, since no one was really sure what happened (obviously, the rules of the sport should have been explained beforehand). It was going to be casual, that much they'd set up. He had his disc charged and ready to take them on a nice fly around the city, maybe through some other areas of the ship.

That was really as far as he planned.

It was now occurring to him, five minutes before they'd agreed to meet, that he should have though about her weapon situation; she had swords and a fear of heights. This could end very, very badly. Not that bad endings were unusual to Static, but still, that didn't make them something he enjoyed.

He adjusted the nice shirt he'd dug out of storage (whoever it'd belonged to before, it fit him well enough), and checked his breath one more time.

"Well, here goes nothing..." Virgil said to himself with a sigh. It was do or die time.

Those who have seen Peter Parker around lately will know that he didn't take the Daligig's revelation at all well. Hours spent in the sensoriums fawning over the New York panoramic, even more time spent in the media library trawling through records from Skip James to the Smiths, all of which acutely miserable.

But that was then and this is now. Now-- now he walks quietly through Stacy's corridors, a camera slung over his shoulder and a tatty shoebox in his hands. He scans the walls until he finds one that seems to satisfy whatever purpose he has in store for it and drops to one knee so that he can get at the contents of the box.

One by one he takes out the pictures of friends and family both past and... as present as can be. Being the photography nut that he is most were taken by Peter himself, but there are some from other sources. There is Peter as a kid at Coney Island with his aunt and uncle and photobooth snaps of him and Gwen posing ridiculously. Graduation photos with a begrudging Flash Thompson and one of Harry and Norman back when things were good. A photo of his parents that he credits to May. Shots of the Bugle staff. One of Felicia which he'd had to have been very sly to take and of course, the inimitable Mary Jane Watson.

He takes each of these, looks them over fondly, and tacks them up on the wall. It was a start, the beginnings of what he hoped the rest of the crew would add to. There they were, all the people he'd known and loved over the years. All the people that gave him the strength he needed to face each day were laid out in front of him and in that moment he knew that there was no way in hell that any one of them was gone.

Diana stared at the slop. She'd eaten this since she'd arrived but damn it was unappealing. She frowned, propping her chin on her hand as she leaned against the cafeteria table, alone, staring at the slop. Human food would be good. So would company.

[ uh, new thread is a new encounter? that's how i roll :D ]

Having found his way down to the hanger, taking care to avoid any further entrapment's by the construct's ill sense of humor. Pausing as he passed the threshold, sweeping his gaze out over the many various ships and craft that filled the hanger bay, only relatively small vessels compared to what he was used to though as he stalked forth amongst them. Pausing now and again to examine a particular ship before moving on.

Eventually the familiar curves and shape of Phantom transport came into sight, the hull an irredescent green in hue instead of the usual purple colouration, indicating that it was one of the craft special operations phantoms from the Shadow of Intent. His suit's HUD recognizing it as such as he closed with the relatively large craft. Drawing a hand across the smooth surface of the hull as he circled the craft once, before sending a signal through his combat harness. A second later the port-side hatch folding down smoothly allowing the tall alien to enter the transport's hollow center.

'Vadum kept busy as he checked the systems within the troop bay, giving an approving 'hmm' as he looked about, everything seemed in working order so far.