Transmigration 9: Brave New Worlds
Pan-fandom, SciFi, and Screwed-Up
April 18th, 2012 
No sooner did the Obs Deck descend to Arena Planet LXIII, and the crew allowed to disembark, than they were met by a veritable cloud swarm of cameras. Sleek, elegant things that might have been living, might have been machines, maybe were even magical... but were definitely nuisances as the swooped around to capture video of the crew at all conceivable angles, close up and far away. Their every move from this point on would be on camera.

In front of a small crowd of retainers stood what appeared to be a great circular orb whose only distinguishing features were a nose, and what appeared to be the most overblown mustache ever, which actually appeared to be supporting that two-foot-diameter orb at shoulder height to a tall man. Then the orb took a couple of steps forward,revealing that no, those were actually just really, really hairy legs. A seam cracked open on the creature, and in a voice loud enough to echo across the broad open plains without any need for amplification, it bellowed, "AND NOW! STRAIGHT FROM THE TRANSMIGRATION NINE VESSEL! OUR NEWEST COMPETITORS! FRESH TO THE STAGE OF BATTLE, BUT NO STRANGERS TO WAR--"

It went on like this for some time.

Under cover of this introduction, a small man that to all appearances seemed to be the love child of Richard Nixon and a particularly aggressive Furby stepped forward, and in a bored businesslike tone recited, "Welcome to the tournament. There will be one battle per day. The arena in which you battle will be determined by random draw. Our medical crew will perform all healing necessary and ensure no deaths so feel free to not hold back. Please refrain from accepting any bribes or favors from on-planet spectators--"

"--ARE YOU READY?!" the orb bellowed even louder than before, completely swamping the smaller man's recitation. "THEN STEP THIS WAY!"

And so saying, the orb and its procession began a clearly well-choreographed procession towards a large, medieval-looking fortress that hung dramatically just on the edge of clear vision. (Conveniently, this procession passed several large advertisements.)
|| Medical personnel, please report to the Observation Deck. ||

The shuttle from 'Eden' returns to Stacy, carrying the rescue crew and the original crew members that went down to answer the first distress signal. The returning people are bloodied, battered, some grievously injured. Maxine, Diana and Clef are dehydrated and haven't eaten in days. Karis is missing her entire lower half.

But at least she's better off than the corpse and the wand hastily wrapped in sheets and clothing and lying in the back of the return shuttle. Howard Bassem and Cedric Diggory, one laid cold and still by death and the other not even in enough pieces to be scraped up and taken back, never made it home alive. The official causes of death will be respiratory failure and spontaneous combustion, respectively, as if to to provide a clinical, accurate excuse in lieu of questioning a ship that sends children on dangerous missions.

Stacy quickly determines that she is the most qualified to deal with Karis' case and whisks her away to a secluded section of the Medical Bay. The rest of the survivors and the tragedy are left for the crew to deal with.

[OOC: Bendytimed to right before the tournament plot.]
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|| Attention, crew, Attention. All personnel who wish to attend the funeral of Howard Bassem and Cedric Diggory, please report to the Observation Deck. ||

Once again, the Observation Deck is prepared for a sending-off of the dead. A hard pod containing Howard's body sits in the center of the room, with a much smaller pod containing Cedric's wand sitting beside it. The observation window is open, showing the attending crew a stunning view of a nearby fiery red star: the final resting place of the two fallen crew members.

Before the launch, though, there are goodbyes to be said.
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