The rest of the crew assembled on the Observation Deck to meet the latest editions to their numbers. After the revelation that their worlds are gone, many of them are even more eager to see people they knew from home.

Several people are set up near the doors to provide the new people with omnicoms and comm rings. New crew-mates might see a tall man in green armor and snake girl 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.

[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.]

So, the hostages had been rescued successfully and were recovering. The crew members affected by the clock were back to their proper age.

Sherry was back to her proper age. Something which was both a great relief and tremendously heartbreaking at the same time. He was glad she was back to being his little linefacer, but getting a chance to see her when she was so small, during all the years of her life that he hadn't been a part of.

At least he took plenty of pictures.

Though, while a couple of problems were solved, there were still plenty more to deal with. The map; whether or not the GIA set them up at NiSaris; the Ohm; replacing repodded personnel... Though he was taking a break from that now. Or was trying to, at least. Not an easy thing to do with a ton of stuff weighing on his mind.

To help clear his mind, he went down to the City (which reminded him, at some point, he needed suggest to the Council that they actually give the City a name), and at the moment was hanging upside down from a tall fence doing one sit up after another. He wasn't out of shape, still barely having an ounce of fat on him, and by no means rusty, but the rescue mission had made him realize he had been out of the field and behind a desk for too long. Being some distant, hands off executive wasn't his style. And whatever was about to come their way next, he'd need to be at his best to help.

Despite how he argued that he was fine, despite how he displayed a range of motion with his wounded shoulder (complete with pained facial expressions and one yell of agony), Medical insisted on tossing Luis in for treatment as soon as they were all back on the ship. His wound was infected and there was a process Stacy needed to go through to clean it all up and make sure it wouldn't turn gangrenous and fall off. That explanation made him a bit more cooperative.

So Luis sat on his bed in the Med Bay, laying on his side, glaring at the ceiling and extremely uncomfortable as a hose-like tentacle contraption was attached to the front and back of his shoulder, placed over the wound like a suction. Yeah. Creepy.

And he'd been caught up and around the place trying to do something productive one too many times, so there was a restraint around his ankle preventing him from standing up or even changing positions too much.

Could they at least have given him a book? This was worse than being trapped in a cave.

((PLOT POST! READ IT!))

Stacy's voice rang out through the corridors of the ship, announcing that a message had been received and would be played on the Obs Deck momentarily.

The message was patched through a few minutes later, shown on a holographic screen. It was shot in very poor video, from a very old communicator frequency.

( A plea for help. )

Luis was getting the feeling his tank of snails was becoming something of a joke around the Science Department, but he didn't care much. They were too fascinating to just give up his research on. They came in a rainbow of colors and glowed in the dark, and also had the ability to weave beautiful and intricate webs of brightly-colored spider-like silk. They were like... spidersnails. No way would he pass up on that opportunity.

He walked through the crew quarters on his way back from Hydroponics, a small holding tank of the creatures under his arm to start a second population. Walking by the doors, he quizzed himself on who lived in each one, partially just to test his memory and partially to see if he could remember which one was his.

As he passed Trudy's quarters, though, he remembered all the hubbub of the dogfights a week or so ago, and recalled hearing that she'd gotten a bit banged up. His mouth narrowed, and he was at her door a moment later.

"Knock knock," he said, adjusting his glasses. "There's a handsome doctor here to see you, General."

He'd put this off for far too long, for various reason which were, when he came down to it, simple cowardice. Fear of prejudice, fear of isolation... Nevertheless, the time had come to admit the truth.

So Lupin went to the med bay, seeking out a Healer -- best make it two or more, in case the worst should ever happen -- and hoping he could trust in a reasonable level of confidentiality.

Luis was getting bored.

Sure, he'd always griped about the constant parade of potential life and limb-threatening pathogens that came across his desk-- the number of grim and possibly ship-wrecking case studies he had to work on... and let's not even talk about the alphabet of Umbrella-related paraphernalia he'd had to deal with.

But now that most of it was out of the way, or at least at a stage where it wouldn't mutate and bite people's heads off, Luis was finding a lack of projects to interest him. He hadn't had anything aside from his personal tank of alien snails to interest him for quite a while. He supposed he could always try that "getting out more" thing that people kept suggesting, but when his previous "getting out" experience had been in Madrid, the city with the greatest nightlife in the world, there wasn't much on the comparatively bland spaceship to interest him.

Lately, he'd been coming to hydroponics to do a little field study. He'd spend hours poking around at the various plant life, taking water samples, observing the animals, whatever could keep him occupied.

Today, for the last three hours, he'd been occupied by a large and interesting plant he'd found about a hundred yards into the hydroponics dome. It was a beautiful specimen with long vines and huge, colorful leaves that looked almost iridescent, and a long, tubular flower with a sweet scent, likely to attract insects.

As Luis came to find out, the plant was actually carnivorous, as when he approached it had grabbed him with several of its long vines and was currently suspending him upside-down in midair. The plant didn't seem to know what to do with him, having already attempted to drop him into its flower "mouth" and finding that he didn't fit. He couldn't be eaten, but it must have seemed like a shame to let such huge prey escape.

And so he hung there, hopelessly entwined in the plant's vines, having dropped his omnicomm and unable to send a message for help. His distaste for tentacles luckily didn't extend over to vines... but it was certainly getting there.

"Is anybody out there?" he yelled. "I could use a little help here!"

Once those who decided to go along on the mission were gathered on the Obs Deck and had time to go over the mission briefing, the detachment procedures began.

As with the missions before, the doors to the Obs Deck closed before it detached itself from Stacy, tethered by a massive umbilical cord. Those who had been on missions before would find the experience familiar if still somewhat unpleasant, but for those of whom this was their first mission, the sudden lack of gravity and lurching feeling as they entered the atmosphere would come as a surprise.

Thankfully though, the ride was quickly over as they landed safely on the planet below, the gravitational dampeners of the Obs Deck gently dropping the crew members back on their feet. One of the walls opened up, forming a ramp to the ground below. There was a sudden, slight gust of air as the door opened as the thick air rushed in. Even so, the air felt quite warm and refreshing.

Looking outside, the crew would see the bright yellow sun looming overhead, quite close in comparison to the sun on most planets. A handful of small, silver clouds dotted the blueish purple sky.

Ahead of them stood a rather impressive looking plateau, surrounded by a tall, ornate stone wall which was covered in tribal markings. Directly ahead was a large gate through the wall, with several small stone buildings in front of it. Beyond the gates, a larger settlement could be seen. Surrounding the plateau and covering the surrounding region were numerous strange, blue and purplish trees and plants.

[ooc: hold up until subthreads are set up]

[ooc2: ready! feel free to tag!]

Pepper enjoyed working for Leon. A much easier boss than Tony, he was polite and professional. Rather like if she worked for Rhodey instead of Tony, come to think of it.

Today started like the others, but she always anticipated something out of the ordinary, being a long standing habit of hers from years dealing with the quirks of Anthony Stark.

Dressed in a black dress and her precious heels, Pepper immersed herself in paperwork, but ready to greet visitors as necessary.


[Feel free to bother Pepper either on her own or if you wish to see The Captain. Each thread is an individual action!]

||Mission complete,|| Stacy's voice rang out through the ship. ||Obs deck returning.||

The mission was a success, and so the away team returned, and the Obs Deck was back in it's proper place.

But, this time, they came back with a few more visitors.

Among the returning crew members stood three strange aliens. There was the ever-dour Revus Lod, the energetic Ippli, and the stoic Commander Rahk.

The Lensmen commander looked around at his surroundings, his expression rather inscrutable at the moment.

Anyone want to say hi to the new arrivals?

Namira had never imagined that her head would start to ache from simply reading. She enjoyed reading, as did most Magi of the Circle, but trying to learn concepts that otherwise took years to understand by mashing it all into a few weeks... Oh, what a mess it all was!

Some of the people from the more advanced places (for even on Thedas, Ferelden was a backwater), just didn't realize how lucky they were.

Exhausted, and her head heavy with new knowledge, she and Hakkar sat on the Observation Deck, on one of those meaty couches. Namira's head lolled back against the couch and she sighed heavily.

How could she make herself, and by extension the other Wardens, fit? And properly, too? "It's like learning to read all over again, hmm, Hakkar?" The dog whined, for as smart as it was, it wasn't as if he'd been sitting there researching with her. "Oh, don't make that face, you know what I meant."

[ooc: PLOT POST IS HERE! Read it!]

He stalked through the hallways like a shadow, moving too quickly for anyone to keep a bead on him for long. There almost seemed to be a purpose in his movement as he made his way through the dark corridors of the ship, though it was impossible to tell where he was headed. Perhaps the young man whose body had been hijacked was exerting some kind of control, or perhaps Veronica was doing the driving.

Whatever the case, the Tyrant made his way to the City.

He emerged from the tunnels and into the wide open space, at last free of the cramped hallway. He took a few steps into the streets and sniffed the air, smelling human blood. He roared, a horrible and twisted noise, then headed into the streets.

She demanded they all bow to her. They were little more than prey for the Queen in the grand scale of things. These thoughts rang hollow in a primal mind, though, but he knew what he had to do.

They would all die.

[OOC: FURIOUS MUNCEST ALERT. This log is the precursor to THE STEVENING, which starts tomorrow! More details will be up later this evening.]

Veronica was getting worse, slowly tightening its grip on Steve's body to the point where he was only coherent half the time. He still felt like he was fighting through a hazy fog, and clear thoughts were hard to come by. The fever was rolling off him in waves of heat and he looked like hell, pale and sweating and clearly sick.

There was one hope, a treatment the Science staff had come up with. It wasn't a cure, but if it worked, it would effectively neutralize the virus to the point where it wouldn't be a concern anymore. It had been tested. It had been simulated. It had been run on a virtual him a hundred times and each time, it turned out.

That was, understandably, not enough to make him feel comfortable with the idea.

From the moment he laid down and they strapped his wrists down (for safety) he was shaking like a leaf... though that also might have been the fever kicking itself up again. He closed his eyes and tried not to listen to Luis shuffling around and preparing in the background.

What's the worst that could happen? he kept reminding himself. I die?

Like I've never done that before.

When Luis was 9, he'd collected a small terrarium of insects in a jam jar and successfully kept his miniature ecosystem alive for several months. One day, he found the bugs lying dead at the bottom of the jar and it was nearly impossible to console him.

"Lucho, no puedes controlar la vida," his grandfather had told him. "Sólo Dios puede hacer eso." Humans could never hope to overpower God, and those who tried it usually got what they deserved in the end.

Those words were an uncomfortable cadence in his head as he headed out of contagion for the first time in what felt like a month. Luis had been exhausted before, but rarely did he get like this, feeling more like the walking dead than even he usually did. Having the lives of other people in your hands grew very tiring very quickly, and he longed for the days when all he had to worry about at work were the petri dishes full of paramecium. If they died, things went on as normal. They didn't cause guilt.

But how dare he think like that? He didn't deserve to be spared the guilt of his actions. The past was in the past, but no matter how many times he told himself that, memories were not so easy to lose. Since he'd woken up on this ship, it was all he could do to throw himself at project after project in the hopes he'd eventually find atonement, but now that this particular project was coming down to the wire, he feared the weight of more lives on his shoulders.

Everything was quiet, the kid was peacefully sleeping for the first time in weeks, the computer was chugging along in its simulation to calculate dosage and voltage, and Luis figured it'd be best for everyone (and his own sanity) if he got out of there and tried to get his mind off things.

So he sat on the obs deck, doing shots of Jack Daniels and staring into the Bleed. Luis was determined to continue this activity until he realized the existential absurdity of angsting over his insignificant life, or until he was too plastered to do so at all.

Bleary-eyed toil brought results, and there was a cure for ROM-199A. Now the problem came with administering it.

Down in the city, the makeshift strike team wielded modified tranquilizer rifles and each of them had 12 cure rounds to use. The infected needed to be struck solidly in order for the cure to be injected-- they were instructed to aim for the chest, though a shot in the arm or leg that hit and stuck would work as well.

It's like paintball, except with deadly pathogens!


Meanwhile, up in Quarantine, those who didn't feel comfortable with shooting their crewmates in the face chest and lower extremities were charged with curing those who had already been subdued and contained.

That was more like tag than paintball, except with deadly pathogens, of course.


(ooc: If you signed up here or here, fire away. If you want to participate but didn't sign up, fire away. If you're infected, tag in to your victim of choice and tear those jerks apart before they shoot you in the face chest and lower extremities! THROW-DOWN! Remember, give the newbs and less plot-fortunate first shot. HAVE FUN.)

It was official, come down from the ship herself; there was an outbreak aboard the Transmigration 9.

Naturally, the Contagion Containment Laboratory was unusually crowded-- patients in quarantine bubbles, panicked crew members asking questions, medics and scientists hard at work in desperation to find a cure.

[ooc: If you've got business in the CC lab, this is the thread for you. Pick an appropriate subthread and mingle, or start your own!]

The disease spread through the City, and through the City, to the crew. Those who came in contact with the invisible killer would slowly begin to exhibit many of the symptoms of a common flu: nausea, chills, and fever.

But they would not feel lethargic. No, quite the opposite. Their energy and their activity would only increase. And now, so would their aggression and pent-up rage...

...and it would increase very, very quickly. So quickly, that you might almost lose your mind.

It was night on the ship - or at least as close to night as the ship ever got.

But while most of the crew slept, something had been released from within the ship. Something invisible, something undetectable, and something very, very dangerous.

If you passed through parts of the City, you might start to feel a little sick...

Despite how long Trudy had been awake, she'd never really been tempted to use the sensoriums, not like the rest of the crew did. Of course flight training was there, but creating the worlds the Ohm had blown up? That was too depressing.

But when she stepped in this time, Pandora grew up around her. She stood on a wind-whipped cliff of the Hallelujah Mountains, overlooking the sunset over the jungle. As darkness touched the undergrowth, neon lights began to shine out. Pandora wasn't dark for long.

Trudy settled on the edge of the cliff, closer than most people would be comfortable with the long drop below. Behind her was a Samson helicopter with a tiger painted on the side - Trudy's copter, the way it used to look. It even had the Na'vi war paint on it. One very important thing was different - she wasn't wearing a respirator. Stacy had made the Pandoran air breathable.

She squinted into the sunset and down at the jungle, her thumb running over her cross in thought.

Maybe Kang was right. Maybe it was the end that counted, and you learned from the mistakes along the way.