||Attention, Attention. The following personnel please report to the Observation Deck. Attention, Attention. The following personnel please report to the Observation Deck.

Howard Bassen
Allenby Beardsley
Jake Berenson
John Crichton
Kanoe Zouichi
Lash
Jamie McCrimmon
M'gann M'orzz
Erhart Ritter||

On the Obs Deck, the following mission information was displayed, for any who cared to see:

Planet Designation: Nereus IV
Status: Terrestrial, H-class
Non-sentient life: Extensive flora and fauna
Semi-sentient life: Yes
Sentient life: Yes
Water: 79.3% of planet's surface
Climate: Earth-like
Landscape: Variable. Much of the planet's landmasses are partially submerged.
Air: Normoxic concentration: 31% oxygen, 60% nitrogen, 2% xenon, 4% trace gases, such as hydrogen, krypton, and argon.
Air Pressure: 93.8 kPa (kilopascals) = 13.6 psi (pounds per square inch)
Sky: Blue.
Sun: Class G yellow star
Warnings: Occasional hostile or poisonous sea life.
Mission: Assist the crew of the Saratoga in investigating the communications loss with the deep oceanic station, Deepstar 7.

Additional setting information for the station, including a list of available areas, is here.

[open for tagging now]

They might have been trying to get to the City, or another level, or anywhere else in the explored parts of Stacy. But when some crewmembers stepped into the transport tubes, they were going to find that where they ended up was not where they were trying to go.

The first sign that something was wrong was the strange electric jolt they get just after stepping into the tubes. The second sign was the unusually long time it took for them to get to their destination. And the third and final sign was the fact that when they arrived, it was in a place they would have never seen before.

To all appearances, it looked like a smaller replica of the crew quarters. If they ventured out a little further, they would find smaller versions of the mess hall, sleeping halls, and bathrooms as well. But there was one important difference.

They were completely and utterly empty.

And with any attempt to go back into the transport tubes failing, they appeared to be stuck here. What were they going to do?

[ooc: ICly this post happens over the course of a day, so not everyone arrives at the same time. If you tag into the post later, you can just assume that your character arrived later in the day. Also, your characters will not find that their omnicomms and communication rings don't work!

If you have a question about anything, you can ask on this ooc post.

Oh, and for this post threadjacking is welcome :P]

Howard forgot what it's like to walk slowly. Usually he runs, or keeps a quick pace to keep up with taller people always on the move, or jogs to work. He doesn't tend to amble, and he certainly doesn't plod.

But Orc's back now, and that, like many things, is going to have to change.

He should be happy. He really should. This is what he's wanted since showing up on this stupid flying space-wart, right?

And yet instead he feels full of static electricity. Like his body's full of twitches and impulses that go nowhere, glitches and short-circuits and bubbles in the tubes and a complete and utter impatience with the way Orc drags his feet as if walking through Elmer's glue.

And it bothers Howard that he makes sure he's out of arms reach before he gives an impatient huff and says "could you pick it up a little? My bones are fossilizing here, man."

[OOC: Backdated to before System Shock.]

The TV lights up in La Casa Smize.

Two contestants remain. Now you must fight to the death to become the Multiverse's Next Top Model.

Fiercely in Love,
Tyrant Banks
Disclaimer: Please remember that Multiverse's Next Top Model, Tyrant Banks, Modelesque Entertainmet, and all associates and producers do not encourage violence between contestants unless it boosts ratings and long-term viability for the models in question.

Rachel and Ruffnut are then ushered to their final runway challenge and photoshoot.

The excitement of the poddrop had died down after a few days and Lash found herself back to her usual routine on the ship. It was rather amazing how much she could manage to do each 'day', from working in the labs, to shop management to training in the sensoriums. Truthfully, everything served to keep her occupied, which was an excellent thing--if Lash ever got bored anywhere it was a sure setup for a disaster of terrible repercussions. Probably explosive ones. Speaking of which...

"Fire! Fire!"

One of the ship's sensoriums was now being taken by her as she played it wisely and used it to tested out various prototypes before building them. They'd come out with a lot of robot parts to build thanks to SHODAN's rampage, and she was going to make the most use of what she'd gotten. With a typical Lash twist and flare, of course.

The soldier obeyed and fired the first cannon with a button press, the cannonball flying out and landing far away. Lash kept tabs using a CO pad, analyzing how the prototype fared. Upon landing, the cannonball opened itself up amongst the surprised enemy soldiers and turned into a small robot with turrets built on each side.

"Tee hee! It works, it works! Now, if I adjust the energy here, I should be able to build a small army, and that would be useful to aid during away missions..."

As she was about to approve it, the robot exploded. Soldiers, trees, dirt and burnt robot pieces flew into the air, landing close by.

"Oh oops! Hmmm...better not put that much energy into that one. The crew could lose a few arms and legs like that!" She said it with such a calm voice too, even if she was speaking to no one but herself and the nearby soldiers. With a small flick, she brushed off a piece of cracked robot, and began another prototype test.

Just another typical day for a wunderkind.

If you ignore something it goes away, right? At least, that's what should happen, and would be happening if the world were any semblance of fair, which it isn't.

Not that that stops Howard from trying; he has, in fact, been going to a lot of effort to avoid certain people in the Med Bay. He's rescheduled his shifts. He's taken the back way around in to the department. He's mostly been sticking to areas in the city where he's least likely to run into a certain Rory Williams - and that's to say nothing of the 'I hope you die' telepathic vibes he's trying to give off.

Honestly, it's probably a good thing for everyone that Howard doesn't have superpowers.

And yet, the problem with working with only so many coworkers as can be counted on his fingers is that eventually, Howard can't keep scheduling shifts away from one of them. Someone will call him on it, and then he'll have to explain the whole ugly affair, which mostly consists of Howard being a baby and taking things personally and just not wanting to do anything but splash blame all over the place like a loosed firehose full of hatred.

Deep down, he knows that. But that kernel of deep-down knowledge is buried beneath stacks and stacks of rationalizations and defense mechanisms that make it very, very easy to hate Rory and everything associated with him, a list which includes: Romans, the British, that weird dirty blond hair color, people with pointy noses, babies, nurses, and using the word 'biscuit' when you obviously mean 'cookie'.

And that's why he's glaring down at his paperwork in the Med Bay when Rory approaches, thinking that now would be an awfully nice time to develop the psychic ability to smite.