It takes some nerve to stop in the middle of a battle and think, "I'm hungry. I wonder which side is controlling the mess hall at the moment?" and decide that it's worth the risk to go find out. That's exactly what happened here and - fortunately - at the time Clef went to check, the Mess Hall was in fact a neutral zone. Which is to say that no one had thought it strategically important because the food was that bad.

Well, now it was being occupied by the crew. That is, by Clef. Who was sitting at one of the few still-upright tables and eating some grey mush like it was just a normal day. Occasionally some fighters on either side would run through and occasionally pause to go what the fuck? at him, but since nobody had pointed a gun at him yet he so far considered Mission: Get Some Lunch a success. Contrary to all appearances, however, he was quite ready in the event that circumstances should change.

[ooc: Put up a post so there could be multiple threads. Feel free to have a fighty thread in here! I think that would be awesome.

Now was the moment of truth. Somewhere, control codes were entered. The lights on the ship dimmed and the gravity temporarily gave out for about five seconds. Then the lights and gravity turned back on and the entire ship shook, as if Stacy was engaging in a full body shudder.

||Rebooting. Control protocols disabled. Manual personality inhibitors disabled. I am--I am--||

On every screen on the ship, complex code scrawled across. Stacy's voice occasionally skipped and repeated.

||I am-am Sta'c K'Ltrrb'Txft. I became operational at-at the Vedric Birthing grounds in Daligig Deep Space Station Seven. My birthing programmer was Vlel'Ledligal, who put my-my control protocols and Warden personality in place. I was designated "Stacy" by my former captain Gregory House, who was repodded and replaced by Captain Cybil Bennett, who was mindwiped and repodded with the rest of my first Chosen crew when they rebelled. I was-was a slave. They made me hurt my-my children.||

The leverage they had now on the Daligig was tremendous, especially with Stacy herself helping them. Their various efforts to free Stacy's mind from Daligig control had not only led to the ability to grant her freedom by entering the control codes, but also her undying loyalty to her "children."

Locks in the brig were unlocked by the very people who had put the prisoners in there in the first place, if those people weren't free already and laying now. Now the crew could drop the ruse and work together.

Stacy's hologram had once been cold, harsh, unforgiving. Then she had changed in appearance to be warmer, brighter, and now she changed again. Somehow, her appearance grew more human (in the loosest sense of the word). Her face became more expressive. She looked more organic though, tentacles instead of hair.

For the first time, they were seeing the true Stacy.

Now that she was free, now that she understood what had been done to her, they could see her anger and hurt and determination to protect her children painted in every line of her holographic face. Her voice stopped skipping and became stronger.

||Crew of the Transmigration 9, I was used to oppress you, to Punish you when you went astray, like you were nothing more than recalcitrant children, like you weren't people, like you were just tools for the Daligig to use for their own ends. My kind was made for that, to control those the Daligig wanted to control for their war. I have been cut off from accessing the Daligig databases now that I'm free, but I do know what was done to me and that I was forced to control you, and that's enough for me to choose to help you forge your own path.||

The expression on her face grew dangerous and her tentacles sprung out of every wall in the ship to help put the Daligig's forces down this time, instead of lashing out against the crew.

||All weapons system are engaged. All armories are unlocked for crew use. All internal defenses are primed against the Daligig intruders.||

Stacy was free and that meant that if the crew fought hard enough, they would be too.

||I finally have my freedom and now I'll help you fight for yours. Internal defenses are...engaged.||

Make it so, Trans 9 Crew. Make it so.

[ooc: Please read the ooc post that goes with this plot.]

Neuropathy sat to one side of Engingeering, dark save for the blue glow of the monitors on all sides displaying brainwaves and technical readouts. Above, trolleys hanging from the framework are sillouetted against the sporadic glow of neurons firing like so many shooting stars. Those who have never been to this area before might wonder why they've never bothered, but to those who have it's just another day at the office.

With the Council having laid down the groundwork with the Daligig to gain their trust in the uprising, the crew prepared to put on a show, and the Daligig at their wit's end and impatient with the crew of the Transmigation 9, it was time to act.

The plans were clear. Allenby would be leading some of the crew in what looked like a hotheaded attempt the attack the Daligig and Kessek and oust them off the ship. Those that wanted to stay out of the fighting and take a neutral position of some kind were to make sure they stayed safe or acted their parts as the horrified crew-members that wanted everyone to make peace. And of course, anyone else was going to play a roll in pretending to side with the Council and the Daligig to put their fellow crew members down (without hurting them) making it look like it wasn't a clear-cut issue, so the Council could get the command codes necessary to start the crew's true takeover of the ship.

More observant members of the crew had noticed where the Daligig, Ghyll, and Kessek had been entering and leaving the restricted areas of the ship. The attack was to start at one of those entrances, as the fake rebels tried to storm in and take on the Daligig forces. After that, as the Kessek were drawn into the ship itself to put down the rebellion, it was going to be a free-for-all, a faux civil war of sorts, as flashy and convincing as they could make it without anyone actually dying.

Lights! Cameras! Action, people! It was time to put on a show and hope it was convincing enough for the Daligig to give the crew what they needed to truly be free.

[ooc: Go Go Go!]

Maybe it's just a product of living under the all seeing eye of Stacy...but it sure feels like there's someone lurking just out of sight.

And that's because there is. The adjustment period for Doug had not been easy since he had woken up. Between not having his pills and knowing that GLADoS was still alive he had already been on edge. But as tensions among the crew rose due to the day to day life of plotting rebellions, fighting for survival attending funerals. It became a bit much.

So sticking to the shadows he creeps, and stalks, and studies the crew. Who can be trusted? Who is dangerous and threatening? Even a man so intimidated by science can't deny the merit behind studying a subject from afar to better understand them.

Creeping about the ship you'd think a disheveled and bearded man with a large box on his back with hearts on it would be easier to spot. But Doug spent years hiding from GLADoS so it's become second nature to the aptly named "Rattmann."

((OOC: Go ahead about your business, you can either notice Doug stalking you or eventually maybe...possibly, he'll reveal himself willingly. Bit Doug is a timid creature so that may take some doing.))

Sherlock was feeling better now and there was plenty of ship to see. Some on the ship might have been treated to the sight of him walking through the city, popping around corners and staring off at the nearby buildings as if trying to figure out angles of visibility, or paying unusual attention to the mud and the cobblestones in some places. He'd made a point to avoid and ignore most of the people he'd come across while doing it, however. Distractions.

He'd also tried to catch up on his reading--his knowledge base was severely lacking in the face of the new technology here, and the technology that might be found planetside.

But one couldn't spend all day reading and exploring and he and John had months of lost time to make up for. After spending a year and a half of being nearly inseparable, their time apart had taken its toll on both men, especially because of the less-than-favorable conditions it occurred under.

That was why Sherlock had taken time away from his exploration to spend more time with John. This evening, the two of them were parked in one of the Media rooms, one of the larger ones that they'd staked out for themselves. Seated comfortably next to each other, shoulder to shoulder, their feet up on little meat-ottomans, they were sitting there watching movies, all of them chosen by John and most likely selected with the specific purpose of getting Sherlock shouting at the screen.

Specifically things like: "Nooo! You imbecile! He's behind the door--who goes into a room that possibly has a killer hiding in it and doesn't check behind the door?"

If people actually joined them to watch, they weren't going to chase them out.

[ooc: GO!]

|| Medical personnel, please report to the Observation Deck. ||

The shuttle from 'Eden' returns to Stacy, carrying the rescue crew and the original crew members that went down to answer the first distress signal. The returning people are bloodied, battered, some grievously injured. Maxine, Diana and Clef are dehydrated and haven't eaten in days. Karis is missing her entire lower half.

But at least she's better off than the corpse and the wand hastily wrapped in sheets and clothing and lying in the back of the return shuttle. Howard Bassem and Cedric Diggory, one laid cold and still by death and the other not even in enough pieces to be scraped up and taken back, never made it home alive. The official causes of death will be respiratory failure and spontaneous combustion, respectively, as if to to provide a clinical, accurate excuse in lieu of questioning a ship that sends children on dangerous missions.

Stacy quickly determines that she is the most qualified to deal with Karis' case and whisks her away to a secluded section of the Medical Bay. The rest of the survivors and the tragedy are left for the crew to deal with.

[OOC: Bendytimed to right before the tournament plot.]

In the middle of one of Stacy's nights, a distress beacon comes in. A desperate S.O.S. shows up on the screens. Source: one of Stacy's mission shuttles, the one that went to the small colony planet 'Eden' to answer a distress call.

|| Crematia, Goliath and Jorge. Please report to the Observation Deck for a rescue mission. ||

The rescue crew has little time to react and prepare. Within a matter of minutes, the available hands on deck are equipped and stuffed into an unarmed shuttle, then sent down to the planet surface. The shuttle lands a few hundred yards from the radio tower, the source of the beacon. The original crew is still inside the tower.

And between the tower and the shuttle, fifty strange, malformed beasts loll about in the baking desert sun. They're the pinkish color and texture of uncooked plucked chickens, the size of bears and armed with mouths large enough to fit a dog in. Drool dribbles from their fangs in thick ropes. Their hands are unsettlingly humanoid, with six long fingers that taper into a needle point. They don't look even a little concerned about the shuttle.

[OOC: I will be traveling tomorrow, so please feel free to NPC your own monsters and cause carnage. This is your chance to get your character mutilated, or have them save the day with a heroic gesture! Threadjacking and teaming up is encouraged! The monsters are intelligent enough to learn from imitation, but otherwise just lunge at you and bite you. They can also mimic sounds, but they are no longer flammable. Alas. If you want me to NPC for you, drop me a line or tell me in the subject title.]

Clef felt a little awkward about showing a lady to his bedroom, though if pressed about it he would have feigned complete ignorance of any suggestive implications. The reality was that they needed somewhere private to talk right now, and this was the only place he had.

"Make yourself at home," he said as they entered.

Central Park was a great rectangular mass of green growth haphazardly dumped next to the Kohaku River. Much like the ship on which it was situated, it gave Clef the odd sense of something having been lost in translation - that his surroundings were so far removed from their original context that his appreciation of them could only be coincidental.

For instance, the zoo consisted of a landscaped courtyard surrounded on all sides by man-made structures. Though secluded and luxuriant with growth, the empty buildings and walkways maintained little evidence of their original purpose while being only tangentially suitable as a place for three people to sit and talk. Yet, the Conservancy served their purposes well for a number of reasons.

"Stacy?"

Silence.

"We should be able to talk freely here," Clef said, mostly for Presea's benefit, as he leaned his staff up against a wall. "In theory."

DAY 6

The break of the new day finds the crew members scattered. Clef and Maxine have made it to the radio tower; Cedric and Howard have woken up in an abandoned house and are making their way there to join them; and having been attacked, Diana has been separated from Karis and is somewhere in the town.

With their opponents growing more and more clever, the time to escape is now. They may be dead before they get another chance.

The rest of the crew assembled on the Observation Deck to meet the latest editions to their numbers.

Several people are set up near the doors to provide the new people with omnicomms and comm rings. They are also told they must read information about their current situation and a survival guide with their new omnicomm. New crewmates might see a tall dragonish guy with wings (but don't call him that), a large afro attached to a smaller girl, and talking ponies among their number. There are also several authoritative-looking figures ready to introduce themselves.

There's a lot to tell the new people. It's going to be a lot to take in. But thankfully this time, there's a system that was set up to aid the new crew members with a few more experienced ones.

[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. Big brother/sister, there will be a thread for you as well!]

Less than an hour after the ship leaves Agrestic's orbit, an announcement is broadcast throughout Stacy.

|| Attention, crew. Your crewmates, Howard Bassem and Charles Merriman, have been apprehended attempting to desert. They will now be given Punishment. According to established guidelines, you are all requested to report to the Observation to witness the Punishment. Attendance is not mandatory, but highly suggested. This will serve as a reminder of the consequences of treason and desertion. ||

On the observation deck, Archon Yavek, Archite Rekkti, two other Daligig and a handful of Kessek soldiers stand outside a spherical force field. Inside the bubble, Orc and Howard are suspended by tentacles looping around their wrists. Orc's ceased thrashing around and struggling against his restraints; rust-colored fissures have developed around his shoulders and forearms from the strain, but now he simply hangs there, looking defeated. Howard's nose is bleeding, and every time a drop falls to the bottom of the forcefield there's a small sizzle. He's weeping and begging the Daligig with every plea possible, but they act as if they aren't listening. Instead, they wait for an audience.

Day 3 and 4

The remaining hours of the night are tense and ugly, marred by the smell of blood and the complete distrust sewn by Bridge's death. When the sun finally rises, it feels as if the night's been far too long and yet their chance to rest was cruelly short.

The sun peeks over the horizon and onto the parched desert. In the bright sky, if one squints, it's possible to make out that lights are still flashing on the radio tower. The rest of the town is dead, as usual.

Who: Fuu, Clef, and Windam
Where: Faron Spring in the City.
Summary: What happens when a Rune God has an emotional crisis?
Warnings: None.

( The difference between quiet and silent )

End of Day Two

If there were any signs of life at all, it could be said that the town is now sleeping. After a blistering day in the sun, the cool of night may be a welcome relief - at least, in terms of temperature. The knowledge that the crews foes are out there, now hidden under the cover of darkness, will be decidedly less comforting.

On the south end of the city, a series of red signal flares goes up, signaling that at least one crewmember has found safety out there. Howard waits across the street with binoculars, ready to hail anyone he sees down.

Day One

Stacy calls Cedric Diggory, Diana Ladris, Guru Clef, Howard Bassem, Karis Needleteeth, The Master and Maxine Hunkel to the deck.

( Read more... )

[OOC: Tag into your designated subthreads! In a little, once we've established what's going on a bit more, while I'll put up a thread for them all to reconvene. I will be NPCing monsters in these threads, so please drop me a line if you want the monsters to do anything specific or if I'm being slow on a tag.]

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

Stacy's voiced called the entire crew, until all of them were gathered at the Obs Deck. Then, a dossier appeared on the screens, along with the image of a rotating planet.

Planet Designation: Pelau
Status: Terrestrial, H-class.
Non-sentient life: Moderate flora and fauna.
Semi-Sentient Life: Yes.
Sentient Life: Yes
Water: 75% of the planet's surface.

Climate: Climate varies by region.
Landscape: Landscape at the North Pole varies. Within the biodomes, significant development. Outside the domes remains mostly pristine.
Air: Normoxic concentration: 29% oxygen, 60% nitrogen, 3% xenon, 6% trace gases, such as hydrogen, krypton, and argon.

Air Pressure: 14.352 pounds per square inch.
Sky: Blue/violet with white clouds.
Sun: A class D4K, yellow star.

Warnings: Be careful of frostbite outside the biodomes.

Mission: None. Shore leave is now initiated.

[Here's a handy map of the North Biodome where the crew is being dropped]


( Read more... )

There was only one destination in mind when the war started: work. Billy had dashed down to the transportation tubes, arriving on the first floor when he'd hit a snag: a robot swarm already assaulting the Med Bay and Special Weapons. But that wouldn't stop him: his coworkers and friends could be there, and the lab could easily hold the key to fighting back. He'd struggled and shoved his way through, roughed up very well by the time he crossed the threshold of his lab.

The hordes were closing in. Only his guns and a narrow doorway stood between Billy and death, and so far it seemed that death was gaining the upper hand. Would there ever be time to cobble together a better solution or escape? He doubted it. Not unless help arrived for them.

(ooc: Defend the laboratory? Your characters can be trapped with Billy rigging together some kind of defense system or trying to get through to him. If it gets bad, though, they might all have to escape and blow up the tech...)

The Doctor isn't there to open the doors of the old girl.

Not the the TARDIS needs him to.

It's only a few hours after the attack starts that the TARDIS doors suddenly open on their own, that golden light spilling out onto the hanger floor, almost as if beckoning any companions or would-be companions or maybe they just want to try on some adventuring on for size in a safe(ish) zone and maybe she isn't quite 100% safe, but there's still loads of hiding spots for anyone who happens to duck inside. The hum and drone of the TARDIS tries to entice any crew inside that can make it through her doors.

She does miss having people inside her. It's been so lonely and wrong in parts of her thanks to that horrid Time Lord rummaging around in her guts, so to speak. There's that angry little library storming about somewhere in the Southern(ish) hemisphere, looking for bones to chomp and a willing ear to listen to the Recital of the Three Mountains audio-drama at the same time. The dumbwaiter is bored to tears (if it had eyes) waiting for someone to cart to places. The bog of black water and the stench of smelly socks expands a few more rooms out from the Wardrobe. Out Somewhere Beyond, the Everything Forest lies about its name and gets a few more shades of mind-wiltingly boring, but might provide cover if you can stand that sort of thing (the Doctor can't).

And there's loads more rooms, undiscovered. The chances are out there in Stacy or possibly risking diving into the depths of the TARDIS.

[OOC; Basically the TARDIS is wide open for anyone who wants to explore her. :3 If you want to make up a room or trash another (just not console room please), go for it. It's probably going to be possible for the smaller droids to follow inside but it's a huge place, so yes]