[[OOC: Kerrigan is in the brig for around three weeks ICly. Characters can come up to her at any point in those three weeks here.]]

Kerrigan was used to cells. At least this time there wasn’t a mass of purple flesh on the floor, pulsing as it spread closer to her. That had been a different place- in another life and yet the memory remained. The fear remained.

She was defenseless. No, that was not true. Even without weapons Kerrigan was far from defenseless. The power dampeners may have taken away what was left of her psychic powers but she could still defend herself if needed, as unlikely as it was. Several weeks in the brig for stabbing someone a dozen times even after she’d told them exactly who they had in custody. It was laughable. It wasn’t what she deserved.

Maybe that was why they’d given her Moby Dick to read. Kerrigan only had her omnicomm for a few hours of the day and there was nothing else to do in here so she was allowed to read selections from the Media Library. She told them she didn’t care and to pick something randomly. They had to have given her this book on purpose. Not only was it torturous but the message was fitting- a man obsessed with revenge. The story had potential if only reading it didn’t leave her wanting to claw her eyes out (if only she still had claws). She would read and toss it aside. Then after hours and hours of nothing but silence and thinking and remembering she would start reading again. Anything to get away from the memories.

After taking Sherlock Holmes to Med Bay, Kerrigan willingly went with Shoutarou to the Precinct. True, she had helped save Sherlock's life but hat didn't change the fact that she was the one who had tried to kill him- a crime she freely admitted.

If the previous Captain were here Kerrigan could have solved them all a lot of trouble. She'd had an arrangement with him. If she ever became the Queen of Blades again he knew how to kill her quickly, preferably before too much blood was spilled. But Kennedy wasn't here. She had no way of knowing if he had informed anyone else of their arrangement.

Even if he had and even though it wasn't clear to Kerrigan, she wasn't the Queen of Blades. She hadn't murdered someone, despite the stab wounds. And she had not sprouted bladed wings and gone on a killing spree. She was quiet and cooperative, if reluctant to share more about what happened than she all ready had.

"He questioned what evidence we had against the Daligig. I... showed him telepathically. What they did to me. It was too much for him. He insulted me and I stabbed him repeatedly."

She showed no outward display of guilt. Her voice was flat. "Emotionless" was the word most would use to describe her. "Numb" was more accurate.

Who: Shoutarou and anyone.
Where: Various places
Summary: After the events of SHODAN have passed by, Shou tries to deal with the personal fallout, once the majority of the shipwide fallout has passed..
Warnings: Depressed detective, boozing, angst in general.
( Someone try and cheer the poor guy up, eh? )

The Precinct was in bad shape. No question, that AI bitch did a number on a lot of places. That wasn't the worse part however. The worse is the increased casualties in the pods that were slaughtered. If he wasn't so busy taking down robots and trying to keep safe the crew that they could...

Well. At least swinging a hammer made a better use for diffusing rage as opposed to other methods. He couldn't afford to curl up in a bottle this time either. Tempting as it was. Still he felt he couldn't even keep his damn promise to Leon a long time ago to protect the ship and the crew.

He grimaced before hammering another board to shore up one of the windows for the time being.

Nearby, Xander was also hammering. Dean had called him to bring some tools over to the Precinct, and he could see why. He was going to be busy for months at this rate with all the mess SHODAN left behind. He was still upset with what happened in the pods, but there was only so much that could be done. Still if they had such a hard time with this, it was a big blow of morale for taking out the Ohm. Still he didn't point it out to the Security co-head. Guy clearly had enough on his plate, and looked like he needed the distraction of re-building as much as the construction worker did.

(ooc: Two-fer post, talk to Dean or Xander. Just indicate preference at top of post or subject if available.)

Figures that no sooner he gets finished with one thing, all hell breaks loose. Again. And this bitch AI was pulling this crap on his freaking watch. Yeah, that's not happening. He could hear the rumbling as company was heading in their direction, and there was barely time to call everybody together on the omnicomm. He grabbed some weapons as he could feel vibrations from the approaching attack. Hopefully they can arrange some surprises here to stop the Terminator squad in their tracks. He briefly thought of John Connor, man would he and his mom have loved tearing apart these things. Least the crew they had awake was a good one, and the team was prepared.

There wasn't much time. They needed to get out to locate anybody stuck, or in trouble so they could get to safety. He hoped it would be enough.

(OOC: First thread will be grouping and organizing for Security members and setting up teams. Then you can set up your own threads underneath for any daring fights/rescues.)

The Precinct had a lot of meeting rooms. Dick had signs up pointing to the largest one, since there was never any telling how many people would end up at the meeting. There were chairs scattered around in a vaguely circular arrangement, though they could be moved around as people liked.

Dick himself stood at the front, omnicomm in hand and trying to keep track of what was going on. He was leaning back against a table with two seats behind it. Right now, it was just waiting for people to arrive.

The Precinct was still, thankfully, one of the most secure places on the ship. It was also a fairly innocuous place for Leon and Kang to have this discussion. With Leon using the place temporarily as an office, no one would really think twice about one of the Council members coming to talk business.

They might, however, if they had an idea of what the two were about to discuss. They had to plan for the visitors that were coming aboard.

Allenby had waited a while before asking to speak to Trudy, despite the crew being back from Galilee. She'd been too pissed and worried before then to really think about what she ought to say, and she needed time to figure it out.

Like... how to say it without getting Trudy mad again by mistake. Though frankly, she was pretty angry herself to learn that I won't touch your Gundam actually translated to your Gundam is getting stuffed full of mothballs until I say you can have it back.

That was if the condition--getting Trudy to sign off--wasn't actually a nasty code for kiss your Gundam goodbye, troublemaker. But Allenby was going to trust her crewmates and think that Leon and Trudy were too honest for that.

Reviewing any mission is a critical step. Its important to note what went right and what went wrong so that adjustments could be made in the future. But the initial mission reports from Galilee seemed to indicate that everything went ridiculously sideways.

Granted, everyone came back alive, and with the technology they had been seeking. But this mission had clearly gone pear-shaped.

So after giving everyone on the away team a day to recover, say hi to the new arrivals, and get a few tattoos removed, it was time to get some more detailed answers. Leon started, privately, with the Command members on the mission: Nightwing, Fate, and Lash. The three of them were ordered to meet him and Nathan in one of the conference rooms in the Precinct. Kon would have been ordered to attend as well, but he was still in the Medbay, recovering from losing his hand.

When everyone arrived and got settled, Leon only had one question for the group.

"What the hell happened down there?"

Allenby lay on her cot, tapping her feet on the wall. She was--well she wasn't exactly happy to be in here, but she wasn't mad about it either. She'd cooled off, and for the past however-long had been picking apart how badly thought through her idea was. Mainly because it hadn't been thought through at all.

She'd done something dumb and so she supposed this was only fair, though she was still pretty pissed that Command seemed to think she was completely in the wrong for getting upset after a whole lot of silence from them about the away team. Thirty damn people were down there; did they think nobody would want to do something?!

And she was even more pissed that they'd gone and mothballed her Gundam until she kissed up to Trudy, promising to be a good girl, sit up straight, and never question her again... or whatever would satisfy her, which was the main problem occupying her thoughts right now.

Well, at least Alan Turing was being taken care of.

[ooc: This is a general log for anyone in the brig who wants to interact with each other--prisoners, staff, or visitors. You don't necessarily have to talk to Allenby; feel free to set up your own stuff. o/ ]

The Precinct had been hopping of late with people needing to be sent to the Brig. Dean hated how short handed they were between people getting re-podded and the mission taking a good chunk of the crew. Left the rest of them with a skeleton group and a lot of newcomers thanks to the recent podpop. He was still struggling with going over notes and reports from previous attacks. Trying to put together as much information as he could and catalog it all. If he got it right, it'll be a great help for any future incidents and at least give other Security a starting off point of where to go.

Plus it gave him a chance to bury his troubled emotions into something, but he was clearly running himself ragged of late. He hadn't been at the house much, mostly sleeping fitfully at his desk the few times he slept. Plus meals been mostly of liquid content though he was avoiding the tavern for the most part for personal reasons.

He just hoped some of the new members could lend a hand or two.

(!NOTE: This is available for people in the brig to thread as well)

Hiccup wasn't exactly sure how to go about all this, but he wanted reports. He wanted things filed. Ideally, he wanted Azula arrested but he had a feeling that wasn't going to happen. His word against hers, after all.

But he wanted a paper trail.

Which was why he and Daja made their way to the Precinct to report what had happened.

"I, uh--I have a complaint. Sort of thing?" he said, when he came in. "To make?"

The Master Chief has taken over Samus' old office. It's not like he had a lot to move.

It feels a little odd sitting in this chair, he's used to being on the other side of the desk. He'll have to get used to it, he supposes.

In the meantime, he's not busy. If you need to talk to him now's a good opportunity.

Perhaps it was sort of unnecessary for Samus to call Chief into her office, but in all honesty she preferred to speak in person. She was never quite sure of the security of it, so even when she was passing along completely unclassified information, habit forced her to request a meeting in person.

She waited at her desk, Chief wouldn't take more than a few seconds to arrive, considering where he was coming from anyway. She has something to show him anyway. On her desk was a rather obvious set up of conventional firearms, ranging from simple pistols to rifles. Each one was marked with an orange stripe. At the end of the row was a remote. Its purpose remained unknown to a casual observer.

Though she didn't want to draw attention to it, the observant viewer would realize that there was a new photo frame on her desk. She frowned at it and picked it up, looking for another place to put it.

It was pretty late on the ship, and Dean had crashed out in a chair near the brig that was holding his brother. Any advice to go find a real bed was ignored because he's the big brother and he knows better. Also while Sam was stuck here with Schmuz still in his head, he just wanted to keep a close eye. Make sure there were no problems. The puppy Bobby was currently curled up near the bars of Sam's cell, also asleep.

Sometimes Dean twitched and whimpered a little in his sleep as some of his dreams were less than restful.

Fate really, really wanted to just head straight back to her room, take a long shower, then huddle up in a corner somewhere. She felt incredibly unclean, and she was starting to feel a bit tired, but that was pushed aside for now. There were more important things to do now. They had to bring justice to a girl who tried to use another person for a horrible purpose... a purpose that still made Fate's stomach turn.

So anyone inside the Precinct will notice three people entering: the first was Fate, clad in her Barrier Jacket with a cut and singed cheek, Kon, who also sported a few burned cuts on his arms, and Mei-Xing, whose hands were bound behind her with yellow energy.

Yep. We've got a bit of a Situation, guys.

This ship was still a dangerous place. There were a lot of things that were out of their control, and problems they could manage, but few that they could fix. One of the biggest ongoing problems was GLaDOS, who routinely caused crew members to disappear, some for good.

Worst of all, there was nothing that could be done about it.

Until now.

Which was why Leon was putting a team together, the members of which he had called to meet him at the Precinct. They'll be the ones to finally deal with the AI once and for all.

And this was the part of the job that Leon knew would eventually grate on him. Meetings. They were necessary, and usually productive, but they were not his thing. Still, it was part of the job now, so as per his post on the comms, he made himself available at the Precinct. His old office belonged to Samus now, so for the time being he made himself comfortable in the fifth floor conference room.

The Major asked to see him. In person.

Well, asked might be a bit of a stretch, but that's neither here nor there.

Regardless, he was willing to meet with her. She wasn't one to waste time, so he figured it had to be important. He told her to meet him at his office, where he was waiting for her now.

In the city, there is the police precinct. In the precinct, there is a meeting room. In the meeting room is one bristling former captain of the ship, turned commander, turned lieutenant, turned--oh who the hell knows her rank now. Whatever her rank is, she wants updates, explanations, and to find out how the crew has fared in her absence. Hence why she told a few people to come see her, post-haste.

"So. What the A#%& have I missed?"

A pause.

"And forewarning, if any one of you even mentions cake, I'm shooting you in the @#%&ing face. Just putting that out there."

[ooc: one thread, new subthreads for new topics and such]