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.

Well. That was a really short vacation. But still a much needed one.

He was well rested and certainly in a much better mood. But he still had about a thousand things to do, and not much time to do it. His priority right now was hunting down the Main Armory... or what he thought was the Main Armory, rather, in Weapons & Possession. That was going to take him a few days.

Before he got to that, though, he had some business regarding some of the prisoners. Lyta Alexander was released to go, and two more, Tim Drake and Katara, were getting ready to be released. However, before he could let those two go, he needed to have a word with them, along with Dick Grayson and Sokka, since there were going to be conditions to their release.

He was patiently waiting in his office for the moment, and was hopeful that this bit of business could be done with quickly.

She hadn't kept track of the days much anymore. She did know that when she tried to sleep though, it wasnt a nice fitful sleep. She hadnt expected as much to begin with, considering she hadn't had that kind of sleep since being here, but somehow, her dreams had gotten progressively worse. Now there would be glimpses of things, bits and pieces of a memeory she was only starting to unravel, a secret fear she had that would make her feel apprehensive and uneasy when she woke up. She alwaus seemed to wake up the same way too: with a start, tears running down her cheeks. She couldn't figure out why she would wake up like that in the first place, but she would somehow get the feeling that she was forgetting something, and for a moment, there was an air of somebody she cared about sharing her pain.

It was a memory she grasped at, almost had then lost again.

This time, she just sat up, wiping her face and taking an exasperated breath. Not much had changed: they'd gotten a new person is the brig, who was just as likely to be here a long time like anyone else. Besides, Katara was curious as to who were the new arrivals on the ship: would they be anyone she knew?

(Open tag for Katara for visitors/cell mates, but also a general cell post if any visitors might want to drop in on the detainees.)

Daimon Hellstrom, the Son of Satan, was not present during the orchestrated attempt to take the captive Yeerk's life. That did not stop him from going to the precinct, to the prisoners, and delivering a sermon that was a great deal more fire and brimstone than most sermons, if not all.

The topic, if you could distinguish a coherent basis for Daimon's mad words, was centered around the ever popular Good Samaritan story. Daimon told the prisoners of the background of the Good Samaritan, how Samaritans were viewed as the enemy back then, and how the Samaritan had helped a man despite the hatred both peoples bore for the other.

But it was hard to focus on that given how loud he was. That and how his hair was periodically engulfed by flame.

There's not a whole lot to do, when you're marking time in a jail cell.  Tim has paced every inch of it, calculated the estimated area of his new living space (small), and counted the ceiling tiles (42 and 1/4).

He hasn't tried to escape, though he thinks he might be able to, if he really tried.  But he won't. 

Right now, he's lying on his cot, staring at the ceiling, and hoping that no one comes to visit him.  He's not sure he can face their disappointment.

"Hey, Robin. You awake?"

[Instructions: Here.]

Despite a few tricks up their sleeves, the Conspirators hardly stood a chance. It's all or nothing as they make a few last ditch attempts to kill the Yeerk, and as the fight grinds to a screeching halt.

Will they kill the Yeerk?

Will someone other than the Yeerk get killed in the crossfire?

[Instructions: Here.]

The fighting begins in earnest, as bystanders get dragged in, have to duck out of the way, or join in to help out, but with more people entering the fray, there's even more chaos.

Buildings have been cracked, a nearby fountain has been smashed, causing water to pour over the ground and make things even more of a mess.

Can anyone, Security or the Conspirators, keep the situation under control?

She'd been careful at covering her tracks, but sometimes you can be too careful--sometimes someone notices you taking great pains to not be noticed. Leela slips around a building in the city, and slips out of her Cloak of Disregard. Which was her normal cloak, mind you, but even here she could still do the occasional blood-weave. It's just magic is a time-consuming process, and she isn't fond of relying on it in general so she doesn't make a habit of trying to use it on the ship, but now--right now, it's an ace up her sleeve.

Or was, at any rate.

She's nowhere near where they hid Sam at the moment, but the fact that she's skulking about is enough for the observant onlooker to realize she's sneaking around for some reason.

Another day, another podpop. The crew and command crew has gathered on Obs Deck to greet the newbs, but right now the atmosphere is tense. People are taking turns on rotations to alternately hunt for Sam--who'd been kept in prison during the trial to present his assassinating the Yeerk-- and guard said parasite so it can have a fair trial. The Jury is in recess, for the moment, but will be deciding the Yeerk's fate very soon. A bunch of new people thrown into the mix is tremendous complication.

Meanwhile, the newbies are waking up to a strange, new world, one unlike anything they may have ever seen before. In the Obs Deck, the light of stars--and parallel universes--streaks past in a sleek, transcendent sheet of multi-colored lights in the large, eye-like windows. (They're inside the eyes, looking out, it seems). The statue in the center of the room, going up the domed ceiling is intimidating--and seems to be looking at them.

The tension is palpable, though a few individuals are trying to cut through it with friendliness for the benefit of the scared and bewildered new people now waking up from their gooey slumber.

Terry had been in the Sensoriums for a pretty long while now. He wouldn't really admit it, but he was sort of avoiding the rest of the crew. In an almost exact replica of the 2050 Bat-cave.

He was actually pretty impressed with the Sensorium - he'd experienced virtual reality before, but it usually seemed a bit off around the edges. Things didn't feel right, there were sometimes glitches and something that was supposed to be solid would wind up incorporeal. But this felt completely real. Almost every detail in the cave was there, too. From the dust-covered trophies to the case of the former bat-family's suits.

Terry knew it was weird, but the Cave felt comfortable to him, like a second home. And right now, he was using the massive computer, reading through some of Wayne's old files. Mainly those on the Robins.

Word of the trial had spread through the crew like wildfire. Some of the crew had already made their decision about the guilt or innocence of the defendant. Others were less certain. But all awaited the first day of trial anxiously. That day had come....

( Hear ye, hear ye... )

Let the proceedings begin....

[OOC: Closed to Sam Winchester, Connor MacManus, Murphy MacManus, Paco Guzman, Kate Bishop, Xander Harris, Tim Drake, and Tony Stark.]

Following his chat with Master Chief and his talk with Dean, Sam sent a personal, secure message through his omnicomm out to the other seven people who had been infested by the Yeerks the longest. It'd taken some doing--and some yelling--but he'd managed to get the Chief to back him (and them) up for the time being. Now, all he had to do was get as many of them on board as possible which, he hoped, wouldn't be all that difficult.

As the appointed time--or as close as they could get to it considering time seemed to be rather difficult to grasp on the ship--Sam made his way to the city to the place that he'd selected for them to meet. It was a place that was bound to stir up bad feelings, things that many of them may not want to face. It was the place where it all began: the Clock House. Or, outside of it, rather, since the actual house itself had been sealed up per Cybil's orders.

Sucking in a deep breath, Sam walked over to the wall and, folding his arms over his chest, leaned up against it. It was as if he were defying anything that might be left alive inside to come out and try something. It was a small gesture, a tiny act of defiance that, despite its implied bravery, still caused the hair on the back of his neck to stand on end. But even though it seemed overwhelming at times, he stifled the urge to flee, burying it deep down in his stomach and remained where he was while he waited for the others to arrive.

Tim is in the sensorium, in a very realistic simulation of Gotham on a very, very bad night. It's not really that he likes it when Gotham is like this, but right now... he kind of needs to hit something. A lot of somethings.

He's... a little unsettled by his reaction to the Yeerk that was still in Tony. He hadn't exactly thought of himself as bloodthirsty or vengeful, but a large part of him really wants to see the Yeerk die. For no other reason than that he'd been hurt by one. A different one, and knowing this about himself is just making him angrier. He's supposed to be better than this.

He throws himself harder into the simulation, trying to work out his aggression on the made-up criminals.

Na na na na na na na na na na Bat Team!

Nightwing, Terry, Robin, Wonder Girl, Stature, Hawkeye, and Wednesday set off in the direction of the third pod. They were headed deeper into the forest, where the trees got taller and closer together. There were places where they'd have to push their way through the underbrush.

The Meeting is interrupted.

There is a resounding mental alarum that sounds through the ship. Nearly "deafening." Lights flash from places for extra emphasis, making it impossible to ignore.

||Attention, Attention. All personnel please report to the Observation Deck. Attention, Attention. All personnel please report to the Observation Deck. Attention, Attention, all personnel...||

They can hear it through the meeting bubble and Jaime drops it.

It's entirely likely that she won't stop repeating the announcement until, well, everyone reports to Obs Deck. The mouth in the huge statue opens, revealing a screen. On it, the dossier for the mission flickers into display, understandable to every person there. Smaller copies of the dossier appear in holographic form in front of everyone.

The planet's stats, right next to a rotating picture of it, marled blue and green, are as follows:

( Mission Dossier )