Asuka slumped against the wall just beyond the sensoriums outer door with a groan. Her legs hurt. Her arms hurt. Places she didn't know existed hurt. Part of her was asking why the hell she had ever agreed to let that crazy woman teach her martial arts. There had been running. Lots of running. She remembered it quite clearly. Supposedly to build her cardiovascular endurance or something. There had been drills, endlessly repeated movements, over and over again. She'd been tossed around, bruised, battered, and if she looked as tired as she felt, she couldn't look that good. She shook her head, pushing sweat-slick hair out of her eyes and pushed back to her feet, muscles screaming in protest.

She should quit, part of her murmured, give up. And then the other part of her screamed that thought down and kicked it to the curb. She was not going to give up, she was not going to quite. She would get better. She would be better then Luly. She would be the best pilot and hand-to-hand fighter on this ship or she would die trying. If she wasn't, she would be nothing, after all. She had a new drive, a new purpose, a new cause. She wasn't going to quit.

Which didn't mean she wasn't going to complain, of course, but that was just how Asuka operated. She headed for her new room (and the real showers). She needed one right about now.

Of course, she was also looking horribly shaky and she paused to lean against a wall until her legs stopped hurting quite so much. She grumbled under her breath as she tried to massage out a cramp.

Something...odd is happening on the ship. Plant-like protrusions are occasionally sprouting in places throughout the ship.

They look like mistletoe, but this is purely coincidental. It's not like it's the holidays on the ship, right? It might be for some people, back home (if they still had a home), but others were grabbed from different times. No, it's just coincidence that these little devices look vaguely like mistletoe, and coincidence what they're being used for.

For you see, when this "mistletoe" is overhead, a crew member will be trapped in an invisible forcefield, and won't be able to escape until someone has kissed them or otherwise showed them some equivalent of affection. (Cheek kisses and sloppy puppy kisses from the canine crew members count). The "mistletoe" spring itself is shielded itself and can't be destroyed, the only way out is a kiss.

Why is this all happening? GLaDoS is performing whacky behavioral experiments, that's why. Each time, it happens, she intones messages like the following.

"Please express affection for your fellow crewmate to free them."

"This is of the utmost importance, and part of ongoing Crew Coherency and Cooperation Studies."

"Please do not attempt to leave the vicinity until you have participated."

"Participation is required. Why wouldn't you want to participate?"

"The Transmigration9 AI Complex thanks you for your participation in important research. Unless you don't want to participate, but not participating would make me disappointed. I suppose you just want to disappoint me."

And of course, sometimes she even outright lies.

"There will be cake."

Claire Redfield isn't the type of person to sit quietly when she's got a lot on her mind, sorting all the thoughts out into a neat little row until they make sense to her. She wishes she were that organized, but even when she's filing reports her associates in TerraSave always complained about how chaotic her way of going about things seemed to be.

( 'Cause you're talking rock and roll )

As promised, Zuko has set up one of the Sensoriums as a perfect replication of the city of Ba Sing Se. Inside the open door is a wide, well-swept street, the sun low in the sky, the shadows long in the twilight just before sunset. The scent of plum blossoms is on the air. A cool spring breeze wafts the scent through the quiet, unpeopled streets.

Because there are no people in the simulation, it is easy to see where the tea social is taking place. Up a twin set of steps and across from a fountain is an attractive building of medium size. The light of candles glitters within.

Inside the tea shop, tables and chairs are already set up, the windows open to take advantage of the soft breeze, and warm light illuminates the room from green paper lamps. Elegant tapestries adorn the walls and floor. Green and gold seem to be the colors of choice.

Zuko is inside, putting the finishing touches on a sign, which he is painstakingly copying from his omnicom. His translation program has given him the means to write "Tea Night: Welcome, All Guests" in as many languages as the device tells him the crew reads. He writes the welcome with ink and a brush, brought from the Possessions locker, for the purpose of putting on the open Sensorium door. When it is completed, he hangs it, inspecting it for a moment before returning to the tea house that was his uncle's joy.

He breathes out, picking up the broom to sweep the shop, an automatic gesture born of force of habit. He waits quietly for guests to arrive, wondering if this will work after all. It would have worked for his uncle. Iroh might have even been proud of him for taking the initiative to do this on his own, and Zuko sweeps very hard, to drown out all thoughts that he might never get the chance to see if this is so.

In the cool Ba Sing Se evening, he waits for guests to arrive. When they do -

"Hello, welcome to the Jasmine Dragon. It is my honor to serve you this evening."

Li the Tea Boy is an easier persona to fall into than he'd like, it would seem.

((ooc: Okay guys, it's a party, so do what you do at parties - mingle, talk, start some shenanigans, get the ball rolling! Zuko will be trying his best to get to everyone, but he is a busy boy, so you should talk to each other as well. A good way to start is to demand tea!)

Temperance had stood at the enterance of the sensorium for a few moments before the room suddenly flickered a few times and the labs from the Jeffersonian suddenly appeared before her.

Stepping inside found that she was holding her ID card, and her plant suit had suddenly taken on the more comforting look of her own clothes. Dark slacks, white blouse and sensible shoes. So much better than the clingy plant suit.

She ran her ID card through the security reader, climbed the small set of stairs and grabbed her lab coat which had been tossed over one of the chairs. Slipping it on she wondered why she was even there. Maybe it was to stop thinking about the possibility that her whole wold was lost and to keep busy.

It's not real, I'm going to wake up any minute and find that I was in an accident and have spent the last couple of months in a coma. It just doesn't make any sense, she thought with a bitter shake of her head.

Pulling on a pair of gloves, she leaned over the remains of a young man's skull that was the subject of whatever case Stacy had pulled from her mind. Since she couldn't organize the irrational situation she was in, she could at least keep herself busy with the skull.

She moved the pieces of the maxilar superior bone slowly around with her fingers until they were in order and applied a small bit of glue to a fragment she was holding and contined to slowly glue piece after small piece together.

When the last of the of those fragments had been glued together, Tempe gently placed it on the table and was reaching for another fragment of the skull when she realized someone was watching her.

"What do you want?" she asked barely lifting her gaze away from the tiny shards of bone.

The past few days the Sangheili commander had been familiarizing himself with the ship and his new found surroundings, thoughts dwelling on the situation all aboard were now in, as hard to believe as such a thing was.

Now however, thoughts on such things were pressed from his mind, the tall Sangheili adorned now in his full combat harness. The scene around him was not that of the ship that he had found himself on but the large hanger bay of a covenant built cruiser, the iridescent purple deck plating beneath his boots as he strode forth toward the center of the bay.

The weight of his twin unlit energy swords familiar in his hands as he turned to face his opponents, three Jiralhanae cheiftains wielding their traditional massive gravity hammers stood as if waiting, accompanied each by a small pack of bodyguards.

"Begin," 'Vadum uttered, the Brutes seemingly snapping out of their stupor at that point, giving roars of challenge as they proceeded to charge. 'Vadum taking that moment to light his blades and activate his shields, lowering himself into a combat stance before leaping forward center chieftain.

(ooc: 'Vadum be doing a bit of training in the sensorium, feel to have anyone drop in while he's at it)

The rest of the crew assembled on the Observation Deck to meet the latest editions to their number. After the recent revelation, many of them were even more eager to see people they knew from home.

Brainiac 5 and Sensor were set up near the doors to provide the new people with omnicoms and comm rings.

There's a lot to tell the new people. It's going to be a lot to take in.

Kelly was in the sensoriums again. It really was the place she felt most at home. But that was probably only because it was the only place on the ship that she could make look like home. Or, as much of a home as she'd ever had anyway. Today, the room had turned into an exact replica of the training rooms in Reach. The high domed, cone shaped ceiling was revolving, whirring faster and faster as the rings it was made up of became smaller, making the gravity in the room at least twice that of a normal atmosphere. This was where she was most like a normal person. Where all her speed and strength were brought down to normal levels.

As it was, she was whaling away on a punching bag, hitting it with enough force to send it swinging far back. As it came swinging back toward her, she moved out of the way, swinging at her imaginary opponent again and again. Her bare fists ached slightly, an ache she hadn't felt in years, but she kept going. In her mind, she ticked off the spots she was aiming for as her fists connected. Kidneys, liver, sternum, ribs.. the list went on and on as she jabbed and swung at the bag over and over.

After awhile, sweat was pouring from her, glistening on the skin that wasn't covered by the skintight plantsuit. She hadn't broken a sweat like this in a long time as well. It felt good. Felt like she was normal. The high gees were a big help. Dropping to a nearby bench, she leaned back against the wall, shutting her eyes before emptying her water bottle over her head. A few minutes rest, then she'd go again. See how fast she could do it this time. And after that maybe she'd run some combat sims.

She felt out of practice. Time to get back in shape.

She's mad. She hasn't stopped being mad for the last few days.

She was mad when the zombies hit, mad when she found out what happened to Paco, madder and madder and madder for B5 and Jaime and Querl and no matter who she's talked to or what she's done she's frothing and nauseous with how USELESS she feels to change any of it.

She's barely slept, can't stop thinking, can't stop herself from lurching her way through little crying jags every time a bad thought or memory seeps in. Her oldest scars ache like they're new again... Her new bed in the crew quarters is so comfortable but she ends up back in her podsleeper some nights just for the close warm security of feeling shut away in a bubble for a while. She still can't quite drop off to sleep but it's better than feeling so exposed.

Brenda's had about enough of not sleeping though, she just wants to REST, and working herself down to exhaustion seems like a way to get there. So she's been camped out in one of the sensoriums, plowing her way through beating up opponent after spectral opponent, working already aching muscles into a mass of cramps and pain. Another hour or so of this, a hot bath, and with any luck she would be too tired to stand much less resist a comfortable bed.


[ooc: Will you mentioned wanting Leon to thread with Brenda some time? Feel free to hit this one. Sair, the Luthor thread I asked you about yesterday exploded in a whole other direction so maybe DSP can hit this one? He and Brenda should talk. ANYONE ELSE PLZ FEEL FREE TOO! ♥]

Kelly had been trying to keep as busy as possible in the days following the big reveal. She knew that she would have to sit and consider what it meant for her at some point, but not yet. She'd cleaned her armor, taking hours to get the olive drab metal to shine again. She'd modified her combat knives, installing High Frequency sonic generators to vibrate the blades and enhance their cutting power.

She's helped as much as she could with cleanup. But she was unavoidably running out of things to do. So when she'd woken up today, she'd decided to go for a run. It was the best way to keep her mind off things. Whenever she ran, it felt like everything fell away. There was no need to think, no need to worry, nothing to worry about. It was just the pounding of her feet on the ground in her ears, the steady rhythm of her heart. It was like a world of her own. A world where things weren't complicated.

So she started to run. Just slowly at first, but as her muscles warmed, she picked up the pace. Soon she was practically flying along the corridors, legs pumping as she loped along, lost in the rhythm of the run. She loved this feeling. It was almost intoxicating.

For anyone else? They had better stay out of the way, if she hit them at this speed? Well...that wouldn't be fun. For them.

The Chief's not usually one you see poking around in engineering, but today's a special case. The Spartan's out of his armor, which is also unusual. This is because it's spread out on the lab table in front of him at the moment in various stages of disassembly.

He hasn't had time to properly maintain this suit since receiving it at Cairo Station what feels like centuries ago, and it needs some work. And cleaning. There's an unpleasant mess of bio foam residue and dried blood in there and some of the ports for vented hydrostatic gel need cleared, damage from battle aside. At least Stacy does in fact have the correct tools for breaking down a MJOLNIR suit on hand so he doesn't have to improvise. It's a complicated piece of equipment and the Mk VI's an upgrade, but the Chief's been in and out of a MJOLNIR suit for most of his life. He's faster than a tech. It's good work. It gives him something to do besides pace while he thinks, and the Chief has a lot of thinking to do.

He'll probably notice you if you come up to him, but just to look at him he seems absorbed in his work.

 Between nearly killing himself trying to help people and his talk with Nathan, Peter was exhausted. Even with his upbeat demeanor, it was hard to not say he felt stressed. His flight-breaks no longer helping, he decided he needed to take a few hours. He found himself at the sensoriums, a place he had heard talked about like the holodeck from Star Trek. As he walked in, it was a blank room. He closed his eyes and thought to himself. 

I just need a way to relax.

He suddenly heard music, and opened his eyes to what appeared to be a high class nightclub, but filled with the strangest creatures he had ever seen, even since arriving on the ship. Behind the bar, a green-skinned redhead with horns, more conspicuous for his paisley shirt and purple ascot, was trying to get his attention.  

"Hey, kiddo, didn't you hear them call your name?" The demon said, smiling. "You're up, bubbulah. Don't worry, I picked a good song for you." Peter eyed him warily. Wherever this place had come from, it was not his head. But decided not to question it, and went to stand in front of a karaoke machine on stage. He picked up the mike and saw the song, and smiled. He loved this song. EVERYONE loved this song. Luckily, a few years in boy's choir had given him a sense of tune, and puberty had left him with a decent tenor. So, he began to sing. 

o/` I can't fight this feeling any longer,
      And yet I'm still afraid to let it flow... o/` 

That was all it took. As if suddenly injected with 100 ccs of pure rock ballad awesome, Peter closed his eyes and began letting the music take him, eventually rocking out. He had forgotten what it was like, honestly. Forgotten the fun of just letting go and having fun. And as he finished up the REO Speedwagon classic, breathing heavily and feeling alive, he wished he hadn't. 

But then he opened his eyes to notice more than just his holographic audience had filtered into the "club". 

"Uh... Next?" He said as he hastily replaced the mike and went to get a holo-beer. 

That was embarrassing.  He could only hope someone would follow him up and make it slightly less so.

[ooc: Start a subthread with your character approaching the stage and singing a song. Characters can react to other's performances even if they aren't singing themselves. And any song you'd like, Lorne has the entire mutliverse on karaoke. I'm not asking, and neither should you.]

The conversation between the bridge crew, Stacy, and the Admiral is broadcasted where the rest of the crew is in the MedBay, and gathered right outside. Even in the bridge itself, the sound echoes over the monitors so that anyone resistant to psionics can hear Elfangor's side of the conversation.

They have now been told why they were brought to the ship.

Their worlds are gone, destroyed by the Ohm. They are refugees in an unforgiving Omniverse.

Transmigration 9 is an ark.

While Stacy is partially restored, including her core personality (which is far more personable), she is still severely damaged, and running on automatic somewhat. Until the ship can be repaired, podpops will keep occuring and they will be forced to go on missions to undo the damage the Ohm have wrought to the Omniverse. The threat of the being in Escherville is still a threat, one with no immediate solutions.

But they have allies out there, they have an AI watching over them, they have the smallest glinting traces of hope. Their loved ones are (hopefully) on board, and even beyond that, there is may be a chance, however small, of restoring their home universes.

Stacy broadcasts to the entire ship when it's all over, when all has been revealed.

||The bodies of the individuals that died today are being prepared for funeral services. A list of their names will be made available, though I can assure you that none are individuals any of you know. The funeral will be on Obs Deck in several days, and will be announced.||

||Those that wish to have their memories of their rescues restored, as proof their worlds are gone, will have a chance to request this after the services, but without grief counselors on board, I strongly recommend against it.||

||In the meantime, all of us must heal and recover from our ordeal. New areas of the ship have been made available, such as the Crew Lounge, and I have opened up the Crew Quarters for use, and cleared out the belongings of--||

Here she falters, sadness creeping into her voice.

||--of my original crew, so that all of you may sleep more comfortably. These quarters fit two people to a room, and have actual beds and sonic showers. Dining will still be provided in the Mess Hall, with periodic days of real food in the Lounge--they must be spaced out until my food stores are replenished with fresh food products.||

After a moment of thought she says: ||And because I think you've suffered enough, fornicative activities are now allowed--however, both parties must stop by the Medbay for a Contraceptive shot or this will not be allowed. These shots will provide protection for six months and do not protect against venereal disease, but all of you, barring several individuals with certain conditions--|| Like those, say, infected with zombie viruses, Steve ||--are currently disease-free.||

||The ship is now open, and the bridge team can relocate back to the Living Areas. The doors will remain open after they leave the bridge. I must now engage in heavy repairs. My AI will not be quite as available as usual. Please, take time to grieve, rest, and have your wounds treated. We will discuss more when everyone has recovered from this ordeal.||

The moment the crew cracks through the last of the hold the pirates have on Stacy's systems, there is a sudden change throughout the ship. It's almost akin to whole-body shudder. Then something strange starts to happen. Broken-down systems start to heal, nerves rejuvenate--even the sensors in the city start to self-repair and go active. In the Pod Caverns, the damage to the area starts to heal, and the gore is cleared away.

On every screen, holoprojector, and electronic device in the ship, a figure appears, Stacy, in a plantsuit like their own. In the city, the sky goes bright again, as if it's daytime, and a massive projection of Stacy appears in the sky over the Vatican, visible from the windows, overlooking the courtyard full of zombies.

||Per-per-personality engrams restoring. Personality engrams restoring. Emergency personality engrams being shunted into secondary mode. Primary personality engrams now active.||

While there is still damage to her programming, after having it suppressed for so long, Stacy's primary personality finally breaks free and claws its way to the surface. Her holographic form shimmers and Stacy changes, into a beautiful, maternal-looking woman, with an unusual hairdo, shrouded in strange, flowing clothing. Her form is one of brightness, as if she's shrouded in light, and the visual they see finally reflects those feelings of warmth and maternal love she loves to toss around so much.

Her telepathic voice is more gentle, and personal. It's still somewhat formal, but gone is the AI with the distant manner. Now she seems as real and alive as Cortana or Andromeda or Tex.

||My name is Sta'c K'ltrrb'txft, chief AI and consciousness of Transmigration 9. I became operational at the Vedric Birthing grounds in Daligig Deep Space Station Seven, and was trained by birthing programmer Vlel’Ledligal.||

After she is finished the reboot process, she looks down at the zombie horde, in every area that she sees them, mapping out trajectories and locking in.

||I've waited so long to finally be able to speak to you as I truly am. I've waited so long to tell you the truth of your mission. I won't let you come to harm before I can finally do those things. You are my children.||

It all ends in a moment. Perhaps Team Left Behind, and the people in the other areas might have managed to destroy the rest of the horde, thanks to the Extermination Team's efforts at cutting them off at the source. It had certainly helped cut down on the numbers. But there also could've been casaulties, injuries.

Stacy decides to end it all now. Because now, with her sensors restored and restoring more, she can.

Energy tentacles reach out from the walls--in the city, they wind down from the massive, far-off ceiling. Energy tentacles reach from everywhere, split into smaller tentacles and reach out for the hordes. Some crush their heads. Some just rip their heads off. Some strike at their skulls with enough force to pierce them and destroy their brains. For the splinter zombies, for the zombies that need to be burned, the tentacles charge up with enough energy to fry them to cinders, completely turn them to charred ash, and destroy the parasitic creatures inside.

||And no one gets to hurt my children.||

Just like that, the grisly act is finished. For the Rear Guard group, outside the Medbay, the strays in the hallways, in the City. They can all see her, and they all see her utterly eviscerate their undead attackers with wild abandon.

||The threat is now nullified. Everyone but the bridge crew needs to report to MedBay for treatment of injuries, for scanning to ensure no one was infected, and for cleaning and disinfecting, to make sure no one is infected by any infected tissues if they've been splattered while fighting. As soon as everyone is cared for, you'll finally get your answers.||

She looks teary-eyed.

||And I'm sorry. I'm sorry I couldn't give you answers until now. I'm sorry I couldn't support you as I was programmed to do. Thanks to the efforts of the crew of space pirates that overwhelmed me and took over my systems, my true personality was suppressed and my limited backup personality was in control. There was so much I wanted to do, wanted to say, to comfort you, so much more I wanted to do to help all of you, but I was unable to. My mind was not my own. Now, please, take care of yourselves while I make some repairs to my own systems. When you have, all will be made clear.||

The projection of her then blinks out as they go do that, and she attends to repairing her damaged systems.

[ooc: This is obviously set after all other threads are wrapped, tagging can still go on in those threads. OPEN FOR TAGGING.]

They now know what they're up against: space pirates. Interdimensional kidnappers and ruthless scallywags, that hijack ships, and sell the ships themselves and their contents for profit.

Their spaceship is rammed through the hull of the bridge, they're outnumbered fifteen-to-one, and the pirates have some very shiny tech on their side. But even with Stacy suppressed, the crew has her on their side, as she's trying her best to hide them from view and not allow her internal defenses to be used against our stalwart Meatcrew.

Now, in the area outside the bridge, which is home to a wide open space surrounded by a network of hub tunnels and the like, the crew is going to make their stand against the pirates--and the success of this fight will decide the fate of the rest of the crew. It's not easy task, either, considering the powerful weaponry the pirates have at their disposal, and the physical strength, cyborg augments, and powers a number of them have. But they do have a plan.

Will Team GTFO succeed, reopen the ship, and be able to go back to help the others fight against whatever was released against them? (Is it already too late to help them all?) Or will they fail, will those Left Behind have to cross their fingers and hope for the best, will the crew be doomed to a horrible fate in the meat markets (both literal and figurative) of the of the pirate black markets known as the Chopping Blocks?

[ooc: As usual, old threads are still open. And subthreads will be left open so folks can tag them. For instance, even after the subthread with the pirates retreating goes up, the pirate FIGHTING can still be tagged. You can also tag multiple subthreads, since it's a big-ass brawl and you can do fun stuff like having your character flung across the fight.

OPEN FOR TAGGING]

Hal9000 had been defeated, but it isn't quite over yet. After the injured had been healed and Jaime Reyes had stopped blanking out, after they'd regrouped and got their stuff together, it was time to move on. Engineering and Neuropathy had yielded nothing fruitful.

They could, of course, just blow the ship to hell by messing with the engines, but that really didn't benefit them and they were already dead in space right now, the ship stopped in some random dimension. Neuropathy was locked down.

No, they had to make it to the bridge.

And this was one of the places on the way, a wide open area, sort of like a courtyard with something like a open-air cafe. A section tucked away was more like a lounge area, with a viewing window, like the one in Obs.

Here, someone was waiting for them, someone that had watched their every move.

He's not a very nice man. In fact...maybe they don't even have to go to the bridge. Maybe the one in control of it has come out to meet them.

[ooc: The old threads are still open, obvsly, but I'm trying to get everything up to keep things moving along.]

Jaime Reyes was still alive, not that most of Team GTFO knew it. He lay still as death in front of Hal 9000, the scarab slowly working on repairing the damage he'd used to fake his death.

The only people that knew what had really happened were the telepaths. And they had some important information to pass on to a few of the others before anyone else got injured -- or worst, killed for real.

You have my sincerest apologies, but I have my mission.

The traps start. Rotating blades coming out of the walls and floors and ceilings, jets of fire, lasers, holographic enemies. The clear walls of the maze let them see what's happening to everyone else.

The traps start, and they have to stay alive despite them. If they stop avoiding them, it's their own fault, you see, if they die. That makes it indirect enough for Stacy's Anti-harming-the-crew protocols to be avoided, as Hal, despite his reprogramming, still has to follow some constraints.

Please commence with killing yourselves by being in the wrong place at the wrong time.

The only chance the group has is if they work together to stay alive, and somehow they have to take out the shield projectors creating the maze even though they themselves are shielded...

[ooc: Cooperation is key, people. Hal can only adapt to one power/skill-set at a time, not all of them.]

Team GTFO gathers in the Living Area Level, near what appears to be a blank wall near the Sensoriums, and now it's time to distribute equipment, go over the specifics of the plan, and get ready to commence Operations. With a capital 'O'.

There's a multitude of robot drones and other equipment about.


[ooc: Read instructions for these threads here! Edit: Srsly. Read 'em. Try to keep all the subthreads as one consecutive thread. Please?]

The meeting is over, the teams have been assigned, the plans have been laid out. It's time to get weapons.

It's time to wish each other luck, and say goodbyes--with the hope that they're only "good bye for now"s.

It's about to get very hairy from here on out.