[[OOC: Read this before tagging.]]

Shiva was about to scream some more at the council’s representatives when he heart the sound of his devices powering down. The force field flickered and shut down, which meant the power dampener was also inactive. The “god” had suddenly become very much a mortal, very much vulnerable…

And oh so very screwed.

“DO NOT COME ANY CLOSER!” This time when he yelled he was not smug or disdainful. He was terrified. “I WILL KILL THEM! I WILL—”

It wasn’t clear if it was planned. With the way Kawalsky’s body was twitching, with the way the sweat poured down his face, it could have been a mistake. Or it could have been intentional, if misguided. However it happened, it was a profound mistake, one the goa’uld would pay for with his life.

He pressed the trigger for the bombs. He had no way of knowing they had all been deactivated. All but one.

And though he was voiceless, though no one could hear him save for two telepaths, Kawalsky screamed. He had tried to help the crew. Communicating to the engineers any advice that could help them disable the devices. They wouldn’t have been able to deactivate them without him, not for a while. So many months after he had broken, he thought he could stop the goa’uld from killing.

He was wrong.

[[OOC: READ ME FIRST]]

Shiva was still in the city, surrounded by nothing but rubble. If here were not holding a hostage, he would be pacing. He was tired of waiting. He was tired of his hostage. Above all, he was tired of hiding.

"Where are you! Show yourselves to your god!" He yelled.

Shiva spoke through the comms (not the omnicomms) directly into the minds of the crew.

«I am Shiva. I am the destroyer of all that you know and the creator of a grand new empire. For months you thought of me as my host, Charles Kawalsky, but now you shall see me in all my glory. I have positioned bombs throughout this vessel, including the pod caverns. I need but press the trigger and they will explode. I also have one hostage of my own, Sheryl. You will not be able to stop me. I am fully equipped with a power dampener, and a forcefield. I am untouchable. You have one hour to surrender yourselves to me and begin your new lives as my slaves.»

His eyes flashed gold and he held his hostage firmly. He did not wish to wait, but if he tired of this he would amend his demands. For now he stayed in one of the areas in the City hidden from Stacy’s view, in the middle of a pile of rubble, with not a landmark in sight.

Still, he knew they would come.

Contrary to popular belief, Charles Kawalsky didn't drink all the time. He hadn't gotten to the rank of Major without reason. It took time and effort to keep his body in shape and his skills honed, and so he'd been running through a combat simulation. By the end of it he was coated in sweat and his body was aching but with the adrenaline surging through him, he barely felt it.

He stripped off his shirt and had Stacy pull up a bench for him to sit on before going back at it.

That is, unless someone wanted to drop by... Ladies.

Despite how long they'd been on the ship, there had been five individuals who, for whatever reason, had not been kidnapped by GLaDoS. That had all changed several days ago when they were taken at different times and forced to run mazes.

Now, for whatever reasons, they were each spat out back onto the meatship.

[[OOC: Go tag the subthread of whoever you want your characters to run into. That way there's no flood of posts.]]

Hisk is throwing a party in the Drunken Dragon.

She just hasn't told Kang about it.

It's a general purpose party for the election, for winners and losers (and voters!) alike. EVERYONE is invited!There's beer and real food for all, what more could you ask for?

(OOC: If your character wants to help waiting on people/cooking/what have you, go for it. :D And this is a mingle post so feel free to thread about!)

Wedge was tired. He hadn't slept much since they'd gotten back to the ship. He'd been busy going over recordings, sensor-readings and other data from their fight with the Ohm. And in between that he'd been checking up on Shinn in the med bay and moving furniture and other things into the headquarters. But this was important. Discussing what had happened, getting impressions from his people and speaking to them about it would be important. So he waited, leaning against the wall in the briefing room, which had been refurnished, along with the other rooms of the headquarters. At least no one was dead, right?

As soon as the Ohm appeared, Wedge had begun moving. He practically sprinted off the Obs deck, yelling at Stacy as he headed for the hangar bay.

“Stacy, I need our fighters prepped now..” He doesn’t wait for an answer, instead lifting his comm ring to his lips and speaking into it, the message transmitted across open channels to everybody in range with their own rings.

“Attention, Rogue Squadron. Scramble, scramble, scramble! All pilots report back aboard Stacy and to your fighters. This is no drill! Again, Rogue Squadron, scramble! All pilots to your fighters!” He glanced back at the others who had been close enough to the Obs deck to accompany him back aboard Stacy.

“This is it. We’ve trained. We’re as ready as we can be now. This is for real this time.” With that he headed deeper into the ship.

As he arrived in the hangar, he was already discarding the civilian clothing he’d picked up and was half-running, half-hopping across the bay to his fighter as he struggled into his flight suit. His helmet was waiting in the cockpit. He clambered up into the cockpit, kicked the ladder free to be caught by a tentacle and tugged his helmet on. No time for a walk around. He simply had to trust that the ship was in shape to fly. He keyed the comm system on the fighter, as well as speaking into the comm ring.

“This is Rogue Leader to all fighters. Launch as soon as you’re ready. Form up in wing pairs and engage the enemy. Our primary objective is to keep additional Ohm fighters from reaching the planet and from attacking Stacy. Fly your best out there, everyone. May the Force be with us.” With that he, began a quick-start check of his systems, and punched the throttle as soon as he was sure that his fighter wouldn’t explode when he launched.

“Rogue Leader is away, four lit and green.” His fighter slashed out into space, free of Stacy. And the Ohm were everywhere.

( OOC Stuff beneath the cut )

Wedge had set up the headquarters for yet another meet and greet operation. The headquarters, of course, was simply an abandoned building with appropriate facilities he had commandeered in the city. A low building of bright red brick, it had at some point been an office complex. Now it was the headquarters of the best fighter squadron anywhere (or so the reputation went). A crude sign and been painted over the front of the building reading 'Rogue Squadron Headquarters,' replacing the precious owners which had advertised for insurance of some type. The front offices had been set up for use by Wedge and his small staff (now including Tycho, Ben and Nura) to run the squadron. Another side room had been set up as a 'pilot lounge,' though at the moment it only had some spare office furniture. Couches and other things were hard to come by on Stacy. Finally, the largest room had been converted into a briefing room of sorts, with a projector and several rows of seating, as well as tables that could be stowed or set up as needed.

At the moment there were simply chairs scattered around the edge of the room. Wedge waited, occasionally checking his chronometer. Hopefully everyone would arrive and mingle, and then he could get down to the business of letting them know exactly what they were in for.

<sub>[[OOC: Feel free to tag each other, please!

The briefing has started!]]</sub>

With his bugout location secure, and now stocked with some food John decided it was time to get some weapons. Carefully he made his way to the armory making damn sure this time that no one else was around. He wasn't going to slip up again like he had at the Vatican.

Scrolling through the weapons in the armory computer he was impressed with the selection. Hell, some of these hadn't even finished being developed before Judgment Day occurred. If he wasn't god only knows where being ordered around by an AI, and it's slave crew he'd almost be happy about it. In a few minutes he had quite the list assembled. Double checking it one more time he submitted it to the computer.

[Access to that quantity of weapons is restricted. Please see the command staff for authorization. Any furthers attempt to retrieve weapons will result in you being locked out of this system until your access is reauthorized by the captain.]

He glared at the machine, and pulled out his computer. Interfacing it with the omnicomm he started searching for an access panel. Finding one he spent several minutes methodically prying it open enough to get to the console's guts. Patching in he began to run through sub systems one by one looking for a way in. Whoever had designed the security hadn't counted on someone for who information warfare was a way of life. Finally he found a crack in the armor. It wouldn't be pretty, and they'd know he'd been here but he didn't have a choice. It was act now, or let this opportunity slip by.

Running the program the computer began to send out the weapons to the caches John had designated. Now all he had to do was move them again so the crew couldn't track them down by just following the digital trail. Hopefully that would keep them guessing long enough for him to slip back to Grand Central unnoticed.

After another couple of hours he'd managed just that. Already he was prepping the weapons, and loading magazines just in case someone was smart enough to pick up his trail.

[ooc: Once again in case anyone wants it the list of weapons John has stolen is here. Once you see the sub-thread you want your pup in go ahead and tag it. I'll leave it to each thread to sort out their posting order. Have fun everyone!]

Stacy's voice speaks over the whole of the ship. What she has to say has become very familiar over the the podlings have spent here.

||Pod Release Protocols Initiating,|| she says. ||Please proceed to the Observation Deck to meet your new crew mates.||

Those crew members that don't head to the Obs Deck on their own are hurried there via gentle but insistent tentacles. A few people stop by Engineering to help bring and pass out omnicoms and comm rings to the new crew members as well.

[ooc: Only new characters and Command Staff can start new threads for introductions, to limit the number of threads. Everyone else, just tag in and have your guys greet the newbies.]

Hydroponics is an interesting place. Surprisingly, the name that brings forth the image of a sterile plant-growing lab actually belongs to a massive green space unrivaled by any of the grassy stretches of the city. There are trees here. Flowers. Weeds, even. Some from Earth, some clearly not due to shape, color, or some other strangeness.

It's not entirely overgrown, though. That might be because of the abundant animal life keeping the plants in check. They don't seem hostile, however, and it's oddly serene in here. Like an open, alien zoo. And the landscape is lovely.

The Master Chief is around somewhere, though he may not be readily apparent. You might find him drifting around the lab facilities near the door. He's hesitant to touch anything, but he's curious.

You are now free to move about the park.

[OOC: Just to be clear, you don't need to address the Chief. You don't even have to acknowledge he's there. This is an open post for free mingle-y goodness. Characters may eat/mess with the plants but animals may not be killed and eaten, Stacy will tell you and stop you by force if necessary. Otherwise, you may interact freely with them.]

||Artificial gravity deactivated.||

Stacy's automated voice rings out pleasantly through the halls of the ship. And suddenly, you are weightless.

Someone, somewhere, has done something.

Well, he'd finally managed to break down the basics of x-wing mechanics into what he hoped would be an easily digestible series of lessons and had figured out a program in the Sensoriums to help him do it. It was a bit too risky to let them paw around in a real x-wing, especially considering the limited amount of spare parts. So, he waited, patiently, for his squadron to arrive. Behind him, in a hangar bay of some half-remembered base, was an x-wing, it's access panels open to display the internals of the fighter, and a box of the tools required for it's maintenance. The tools were real enough; he'd gotten them from the among the possessions. Hopefully whoever they belonged to wouldn't wake up and miss them too much. He crouched for a moment, holding a hydrospanner in one hand.

This new squadron was strange, but it was coming together. Slowly. But these kinds of things took time. Hopefully, not too much time of course. They'd need to be ready for what ever got thrown at them in the future.

Wedge waited quietly at the front of the squadrons ersatz assembly room, watching and waiting as pilots took their seats. An eclectic and strange group, to be sure, but he was determined to mold them into a fighting force to be reckoned with. They had the potential. They just needed a push in the right direction. He took a breath, waited as the last few pilots took their seats, then began.

"Welcome. I'm glad to see that all of you managed to make it through our latest ordeal in good health, and I hope you've all had a chance to rest up and recover from the experience. First of all, I'd like to introduce you to two new members of our squadron." He gestured to the two people standing behind him and off to one side.

"This is Colonel Tycho Celchu and Lieutenant-Colonel Jaina Solo. They're both experienced pilots and they'll be helping with training and getting the squadron into shape. And to that purpose, I'd like all of you to go around the room and introduce yourselves so that they know who they're working with. Your name and a little something about yourself." He nodded at the first person who came to mind and waited for their introduction.

Several buildings in the City had been completely destroyed during Aang's rampage, but a few had survived relatively unscathed. It had only taken Kang two days to repair the Drunken Dragon; he'd done so by himself, not even waiting for his leg to heal up a bit first.

Usually, he didn't bother lighting any candles or using the fireplace in the tavern unless it was a period when the artificial sun had set. He could see perfectly fine in the dim light. For the celebration, though, he'd thrown the windows open wide, scrounged up every candle he could find, and started up a fire, knowing that human vision wasn't as good as his own. The tables surrounding the stage had been cleaned, as well as the tankards, and the door was propped open. The bozak had even wrestled two of the 60-gallon barrels from the back room into a corner of the main room for easier access, one of cactus juice and one of ale. If more was needed, he was sure he could get someone to help bring out another.

Tess had commandeered the kitchen to make her food, bringing in her own equipment. Kang had been slightly afraid at first that she was going to burn the place down, but nothing had happened yet. She seemed to know what she was doing, even if she'd given him a few scares.

The sunlight glistened on the old sword blade teeth and dinnerplate eyes of the comical-looking wooden dragon grinning above the entrance. Come in, relax, have a drink and a bite to eat!

[OOC note: Both drinks are alcoholic, and the cactus juice has twice the kick of the ale. :D;]

When he first saw it weeks ago, shortly after the crew had finally caught up him, he thought for certain that he was hallucinating. But there it was, nestled among several other castles. The Luthor Mansion, in all it's glory.

Lex was never a superstitious man, but even he believed that there was more to heaven and earth than what could be proven on paper. The appearance of his home, a reward no other crew member had received (to his knowledge), certainly made him think. He wondered if this was some sort of sign that his decisions so far had indeed been right, or that he was on the right path. Perhaps it was put there as a distraction of sorts, as well, as there were many unpleasant memories that haunted those walls. For the time being, he decided to take it as a reward, however relocating there initially proved to be problematic.

The Mansion wasn't in disarray, but it was clear that no one had walked its halls in quite some time. Not only that, but the last people who had clearly had little regard for the property. There was a layer of dirt and dust everywhere, expensive and priceless paintings had been torn off the walls and trashed, priceless artifacts were just broken pieces of clay or stone, pieces of antique furniture had been smashed, and every vault was empty. Not a single green meteor rock to be found. He counted himself lucky that his pool table, piano, and a handful of family photos managed to survive.

Rather than be dejected, Lex looked at it as project to occupy his time. Since he only worked in Neuropathy whenever he felt like it, and manned the bar in the lounge at his discretion, he did have plenty of time to devote to this project. Which was good, because cleaning up and fixing up a 40 room mansion-- replete with its own library (with real books), well supplied medieval armory and modern armory, pool, wine cellar, gym, and grand ballroom-- took a lot of work.

Work which still hadn't been completed, but he had progressed far enough to not only make it livable, but also presentable. The master bedroom, Lex's office, and most of the common areas had been cleaned up. All the rest was blocked off for the moment, but were in locations that were fairly out of the way.

So, he put out a message on the omnicomms, and invited a few people to check the place out. The ones who weren't already spying on him, at any rate. He laid out a few drinks, and a sampling of some of the fresh fruit and food he picked up while during their last mission to earth. He didn't expect many guests, after all, he had never been the most well liked person, even back when he was a relatively kindhearted kid. Most parties he hosted as an adult, he was usually surrounded by obsequious employees desperate to move up the food chain, business partners who wanted a more favorable deal, business rivals who were trying to find out something about the competition, charity representatives who wanted money, and sycophants who wanted the notoriety of being in the same room as Lex Luthor and access to the connections that alone can bring. Friends were simply a foreign concept, if he ever truly had any to begin with, and he certainly hadn't gone out of his way to make any on the ship. He was curious as to what category his guests, if he had any, would fit in.

((ooc: This is something of a party style post, so feel free to talk to Lex, Lois, or talk to each other while your character looks around.))

Wedge had found himself a rather solid office building and busily converted it into an impromptu headquarters for the erstwhile Rogue Squadron he was building. A few private offices for himself, Luke, Admiral Spaurh and Wyn. A large meeting room for briefings, meetings and other important events, and even what seemed to be a break room where pilots and others could meet and simply relax. He'd have to see if he could get more furniture than the office stuff, considering it wasn't very comfortable. As it was, he'd posted his request and was waiting for his new squadron to arrive. Hopefully this would go smoothly.

But knowing his luck, things never went quite as well as he hoped, so he was planning for the worst. Besides, most of the potential pilots seemed solid. He'd already begun working out a training schedule. Now all he needed was the personnel...

Kawalsky stood inspecting the setting the Sensorium had pulled up. At first, he had Stacy display the base where he'd gone through basic training but then he thought that, given his team, that wouldn't be the best course. In the end, he settled on an indoor track with weight lifting machines and bars for pull ups in the middle.

The moment he'd looked at his team roster he knew he was in for a hell of a time. Two people stood out in particular in his memory from when they'd podpopped together, and not in a good way. Charles though maybe if he ran them ragged and drilled into their heads that he was in charge, he might have a chance of them following orders... unless they resented more than respected him.

But he also had a girl on the team. One who hadn't looked very alert and healthy when they'd gone to the medbay to hunker down during the zombie attack. He'd have to make exceptions for her and he knew the others wouldn't like it.

Well, this was it. Do or die. He just hoped not literally.

Leon had called for a full staff meeting for the Security team, though it was also open to whoever else wanted to attend. He had gone easy on his group since the Bridge mission, mostly giving them time to rest, recover, and deal with the things they've all been told. But now it was time to start moving forward again.

The meeting was being held in the Precinct, in one of the larger conference rooms. He gave time for people to file in and sit down where they would. Once everyone was settled, he addressed the group.

"First of all, thank you all for coming. For those of you who don't know me, I'm Special Agent Leon S. Kennedy, from the United States Strategic Command, and current Chief of Security here about Transmigration 9.

"A couple of weeks ago, we all learned some startling information. That our worlds were gone, destroyed by the Ohm, and we're all that remains. That we've been chosen to travel across the multiverse to fight the Ohm, save what remains, and possibly restore what was lost.

"All of that may or may not be true, and we have people working to verify that one way or another. The only thing we know for sure is that, unfortunately, we're all stuck here for a while.

"Because of that, there'll be a few changes around here, most of which you'll hear straight from the Captain and the Commanding Officers in the coming days. As for this department in specific...

"Security was formed with the intent to be the first line of defense for this crew; to protect them from any threats on this ship, and sometimes to protect them from each other. That hasn't changed, and never will. How we operate is going to change, however.

"For the most part, we've taken a defensive posture, waiting for something to go wrong before we deal with it. But a Fix on Fail strategy isn't going to work anymore. Now, before you get started, no, we are not going to start hunting down and locking up crew members who may be a problem someday maybe." He wanted to be clear on that point, particularly with a crew as prone to kneejerk reactions as this one. "But, acid spitting roaches, one of which was crossbred with an Ohm; a variety of class 4 viral and biological weapons, all gathered in a failed experiment to create a biological weapon to annihilate the Ohm; the Nightmare King trapped in Escherville; HAL 9000; the Yeerks... these are all threats that originated on board. Things that were left behind when the previous crew abandoned ship.

"We need to find out what else they left behind; what other experiments they had going that have been left unattended for God knows how long. To that end, we need to root through every section of this ship, search it from stem to stern to locate and deal with these problems. We'll also be working with Engineering and Neuropathy to locate threats and malicious programs in the computer systems.

"In addition, we're also going to be expanding our duties to become a full blown Emergency Services Unit. We have to be able to deal with everything from heated arguments and hazmat spills to heart attacks and hull breaches. Some people here would be better suited for certain tasks than others, but everyone will crosstrained in a number of disciplines. I don't want to be caught short handed because we only had a few people trained to handle, say, hazmat spills, happened to be on an away mission, or were busy running through a maze, looking for cake.

"As for dealing with the crew themselves, Stacy has generally handled that, but we do have a bit more leeway now. We can interfere physically in conflicts between crew members without worrying about violations, provided you're not using excessive force. If you feel the behavior of a crew member has warranted something more than just a violation, you can haul them down to the brig where they can sit and cool off for a day or two, and any other additional penalties will be handed down by senior command, if necessary." Because that whole trial thing worked out ever so well last time.

"We have a lot of work to do, people. None of us want to be stuck here, but so long as we are, we need to make sure everyone stays as safe as possible."

((OOC: Beneath the two subthreads, people are free to talk to each other and free thread however they wish.))