Cole had only been on the ship for a few days now, and was still figuring out all the twists and turns, so he got to where the distress call had been broadcasted from later than the others.

He had no idea where the flash had taken the people that got here earlier, but he got the feeling that something big was about to go down.

He'd sent out a message over the comms for anyone to get down here, though maybe he should've been more specific.

Still so far one person had said they would get here, but nothing else so far.

(OOC: Cole's omnicomm message went out two months ago, so you can respond there. Or just decide to help out of nowhere.)

The two groups were free, Punchy had been safely left in a shield bubble, and now that Brainiac 5 was free from his mother's control and closer to himself again, it was only a matter of stopping Brainiac 4 from enacting her plans to harm the crew.

That task was probably easier said than done, of course.

Things were looking rather dire for the captives of the Brainiacs. They were very securely trapped, no one knew where they were, the old Brainiac 5 appeared to be completely gone, incapable of his old morality, and apparently, Brainiac 4 had some sort of plans that involved getting past Stacy's defenses.

There was no sound in the hangar, where the signal could be traced to something transmitting it that was hidden among the ships. The omnicom itself that was in Brenda's possession was transmitting, but there was something else in the hangar that had been amplifying the signal and carrying it along through the shielded depths of the ship back when the omnicom had been in the lab and wirelessly hacked by the strange mental array attached to Brainy's brain, and that was what they were tracing the signal to rather than the omnicom itself, months of hard work finally letting them crack the code.

There were no sounds of running or of someone being chased. That was possibly alarming. Silence, when someone had been running for their lives, was a bad thing.

[ooc: Closed to: the Brainies, Danny Phantom, Brenda, Red Robin, Zuko, Shoutaro, Jeka, and Punchy. Cole-player, I'll give you your cue to hop in and witness the trap going off by email and give you a setup when it's time.]

Danny was, quite frankly, irritated beyond all belief. A little bit after his clone/cousin/sister Dani had been repodded, he too had been dumped back into podsleep for who knew how long. And really, it had been horrifying enough the first time. He hadn't really wanted to repeat the experience. But of course Stacy, GlaDOS, or maybe just his avia had other plans.

He stalked his way back up to Weapons and Possesions, and, diving straight into the piles of junk, started looking for his stuff.

"Nope, nope, nope, come on, where is that dang Fenton Thermos?" Danny muttered, elbow deep in a box

This takes place shortly after this comm post. Info for what this post is for is here.

--

Those who saw Shoutarou when he was on the hunt before for Wakka's ball might note a somewhat similar look in his eyes this time - but a great deal more focused. He's out for information, and is once again combing the ship, but there's a greater urgency in his actions and his words.

In fact, he's skipping introductions for the most part. If he sees you're not too busy, he'll all but grab you - "If you're free, I'd like to ask you some questions."

[OOC: Bendytimed to shortly after this thread.]

Punchy's certain that given five days, he can figure out the little device he and Tim picked up in the Tavern. Given five days, an encyclopedic knowledge of alien technology, an instruction manual and a research team, that is. And a new bag of gummi worms.

In a way, it's both a disappointment and an encouragement that he and Tim only found a booster for the signal they picked up, rather than the source itself. A disappointment because some mofo's still getting tortured out there (bummer, dawg), and encouragement because that means there's still a crime to solve. Unfortunately, he and Tim have decided that they might need help on this.

Punchy hates asking for help on this stuff. He should be cool enough to do this on his own. His requests should be limited to 'can you tell me again how totally boss I am?' and 'can you pass the Red Bull?'. Unfortunately, sans Red Bull and any knowledge of whatever this thingy (now nicknamed The Shiznit) they picked up, he's going to have to bust out of his wheelhouse a little.

He and Tim walk into Engineering, looking for a certain Mr. Cranston.

Zam Tolen hadn't been seen a whole lot around the ship. She had disappeared during Lirath and generally wasn't the most available though she was still hitting her Security patrols.

It was late at what passed for night on the ship, as she went to several places. Special Weapons was one place, where she was...building something. With no plans or references, just from her head.

The hangar was another place, where she was gutting a spaceship of certain pieces, shoulder deep in starship.

[ooc: She can be found at either place, just specify where she is.]

Time passed in it's steady, unstoppable, marching beat. One step after the other, like the dripping of a leaking water pump or the slow melting wax of a candle.

Shadows flickered and danced along the walls of her cell as she gazed intently at the flickering of the flame in her palm. She had been lapsing in and out of silence these days in between stretches of talking to herself or arguing with unseen specters. The flame was keeping her thoughts focused. It came so naturally to her it was like breathing.

But the flame was orange. A hideous, imperfect orange.

It made her nauseous just to think about how far she'd fallen. Perfect blue flames of the purest hottest fury had been so easy for her even as a child and yet now she couldn't manage it no matter how hard she tried.

Eyes narrowed the dancing flame reflected perfectly in her glassy eyes. How long had these four walls been her entire world. Too long entirely too long.

But soon...yes soon her time would come. She could feel it coming. The winds of change.

Nothing will ever change for you Azula. Not while your heart is so full of darkness. Her mother's voice warned her.

But Azula wouldn't listen, after all wouldn't that make her mad?

It was a small case, silver, with a DNA lock, only slightly noticeable, but the way Zam was carrying it was what was suspicious. It was almost too casual, a languid grace that seemed like she was either fearless or just pretending she was.

She had something to hide, and she'd gotten good at hiding things, but sometimes someone got too good at it, if that made sense. There was too much of a practiced ease to her gestures as she walked through the halls of Stacy, making her way to her destination.

In the back of her cell Azula slumped against the wall. Between the pale exhausted look on her face and the empty eyes gazing at the transparent wall of her cell she looked dead to the world.

She knew something was wrong with her. That much was painfully clear no matter how much she wanted to believe otherwise. But she wasn't crazy! No. Never. Not the Princess of the Fire Nation, not the rightful heir to the throne.

She was just...sick. Yes. She had caught something. Like when a fever got too strong or when one drank too much wine.

No, she had been infected! That had to be it. That's when things began to go downhill. Mai must have had some kind of poison on her knives, or maybe the servants back at the palace...

The palace was gone. That's what everyone kept telling her. The fire nation, the world was gone.

Her father was gone...

She hadn't seen her father since he left to complete his destiny and take over the world. Only through what Zuko and the Doctors had told her did she know his fate. A war criminal.

His powers stripped...just a man now.

She still could create fire for now. But what if the Avatar tried to take it from her like he had her father?

What else could they take?

Images flashing through her mind. Medications, procedures. Those unsettling tentacles that belonged to the voice in her head, the world around her. "Stacy" How dare she speak in such a kind an loving voice? Azula knew better. Azula knew what sort of damage love could bring.

What was the voice plotting to do to her while it spoke so sweetly? Her mind? Not if she had any say! And why shouldn't she!? She is Princess Azula! From Birth her destiny was perfection and greatness. The heavens above had sent to the planet the perfect girl, born to the man destined to rule the world.

...or so they'd thought.

But he was gone, they were gone the world was gone! Azula too...must be gone.

Yes, that made more sense didn't it? Azula had died...no was killed. MURDERED! Murdered by those so called "Doctors" that had promised they wouldn't hurt her. That they only wanted to help her! Zuko probably gave them the order! Kill her so he wouldn't have to worry anymore about the only loyal family their Father had left.

Father...

These thoughts and more swirled about in her fractured mind but her body never moved, barely blinked. You couldn't even really tell she was breathing.

This was all that was left, of the Proud Princess Azula.