By this point, the Ohm had spread all across the planet.

Destruction spread throughout the cities of Zokez II. There were evacuees that still needed to escape. People that needed saving.

It was time for the crew to do what they did best.

[ooc: Sub-plots! Check here before tagging.]

Amidst all the hubub of all the recent additions to the crew, Stacy suddenly stops whatever she was doing at the time across the ship to make an important announcement.

||Warning, general notice to all crew: One of the recently released crew mates, John Connor, has stolen a number of pieces of weaponry from the armory. It also appears he is mentally and emotionally unstable at this point in time. As he is armed and likely dangerous to the crew, it is highly recommended that the crew at large avoid him if at all possible, and that security teams be sent to secure him and the weaponry.||

||It seems he is currently down in the city, but as my sensors down there are still damaged, I cannot track his exact location.||

||Good luck, and be careful.||

It's rather ironic that Marcus managed to stay occupied in prison, but couldn't find anything to do while he was a free cyborg man. The zombie invasion was interesting, at least-- even if it was the kind of interesting he never wanted to see ever again-- but that was over quickly. The new portions of the ship were all well and good, but there was only so much of a few new rooms that one person could take.

And so, Marcus ventured into the Sensoriums, just for some variation. (Does it count as variation if it's the same place you've been for the past thirty years of your life?) He's currently in a small, cluttered garage, the hood of an almost-certainly-stolen '76 Chevy Nova propped open. He's 'changed', for lack of a better word, into jeans and a plain white t-shirt, although his longcoat is tossed over the back of a chair.

The Defacto Rearguard of Team GTFO hadn't gone too far away from the doors that had separated them from the rest of the team. They were fortunate -- Mei Ling was still unharmed, and the rest of them were of no interest to the zombies, possessing none of the meat that their stumbling attackers found so attractive.

They were going to have to move soon. They could only hold the zombies off for so long without some sort of fortifications, and they were very much without those here. They had a blank expanse of fleshy wall where there had used to be a doorway separating them from the rest of GTFO and multiple hallways teeming with zombies.

The lights were still up and looking just fine. Which meant that they could see the hoards coming for Mei Ling. Fortunately, they seemed to have no objections to sticking together.

Daimon Hellstrom, the Son of Satan, was not present during the orchestrated attempt to take the captive Yeerk's life. That did not stop him from going to the precinct, to the prisoners, and delivering a sermon that was a great deal more fire and brimstone than most sermons, if not all.

The topic, if you could distinguish a coherent basis for Daimon's mad words, was centered around the ever popular Good Samaritan story. Daimon told the prisoners of the background of the Good Samaritan, how Samaritans were viewed as the enemy back then, and how the Samaritan had helped a man despite the hatred both peoples bore for the other.

But it was hard to focus on that given how loud he was. That and how his hair was periodically engulfed by flame.

"Hey, Robin. You awake?"

[Instructions: Here.]

The fighting begins in earnest, as bystanders get dragged in, have to duck out of the way, or join in to help out, but with more people entering the fray, there's even more chaos.

Buildings have been cracked, a nearby fountain has been smashed, causing water to pour over the ground and make things even more of a mess.

Can anyone, Security or the Conspirators, keep the situation under control?

[Instructions: Here.]

Mahatma Gandhi once said: "In matters of conscience, the law of the majority has no place."

It was entirely likely that the crew would be very split on interpretation of that quote. Some thought the right thing was punishing what they saw as a mind-slaver for a crime with the ultimate penalty. Others thought that if a trial had dictated that imprisonment was punishment enough that it truly was.

It was time to move the Yeerk, in its containment unit, from the Precinct in the City, to its secure prison in the MedBay, where its prison sentence was to take place.

It was also time for the conspirators to move and make sure that it never made it.

( There's a storm brewing )

When he was ready, he finally called all of security into one of the briefing rooms. In front of where he stood, there was a holographic layout of part of the city, which highlighted the few direct routes between the Precinct and the Hub. Somewhere along those routes Sam would have to attack, since outside of the city, Stacy wouldn't let him.

Out of all of the routes, he chose the widest walkway there. Right now they had Sam outnumbered and outgunned, but none of that mattered if they didn't have room to utilize it.

A group of six, consisting of Leon, The Master Chief, Samus Aran, Worf, Marcus, and Ronon, were going to take the Yeerk. Carol Danvers would be flying overhead. The rest of the Security team would be along the route, keeping watch out for Sam, but their primary function would be crowd control. If Sam attacked, it would be up to them to protect the bystanders first and foremost, and keep others from getting involved. If people started jumping in, the situation could spiral downwards in a hurry. He did not want a riot on his hands The six with the Yeerk would be the primary ones to engage Sam and whoever he had with him.

When Leon addressed the group, he spoke as if he was laying all his cards out on the table, but he did not mention his suspicions about a traitor among them. They needed to trust each other, and they needed to believe that he trusted them. And he did trust them... he trusted them enough to mention the sub-armory, where some of the more high powered weapons, non-lethal riot ordinance (including rubber bullets, flashbangs, tear gas, and beanbag shotgun rounds) and basic body armor (re: Kevlar) was available to them.

But there were still a few cards he was going to play close to the vest.

"All right, people, that's the plan. Any questions?"

Down in the room that the conspirators had chosen to hide Sam after busting him out of detention, the group had gathered for one last time. On a table lay John Winchester's journal, which--with the help of the conspirators--now had a map of the area surrounding the precinct and all the possible routes to the hub, which then led to the rest of the ship. There weren't many of them. And most of those that were there were normal humans. The other side--the side that had chosen to protect the Yeerk--had them both out-numbered and out-gunned. That meant that the plan had to adjust for that.

Hitting them in transit, while they were transporting the Yeerk back to the medbay, had been decided was the best option. It meant they wouldn't be taking on the entire security team but, instead, a much smaller detail. People would be positioned in various locations, meaning the detail would have to face a fight on several flanks if it came down to force. And, finally, while waiting for the security detail to arrive at a narrow street or a bottle-neck was the most effective battle strategy, it was likely the most deadly. Therefore, they'd opted for a wide-open area for two reasons.

First, because of the huge spectacle that had been made with the trial, there was bound to be a crowd. Since crowds can more easily form in wide-open areas with lots of space, that meant most of the security personnel would be tied down trying to keep them under control. Which meant less chance of reinforcements. And having a large crowd nearby had one other benefit: it would put a damper on the super-powered ones, they were less likely to use their full powers with a bunch of innocent bystanders around that might possibly get hurt because of it. Not after the battle with the cockroaches.

Second, it gave more room for bystanders to flee once--and if--the fighting started. People would be less likely to get trampled trying to run to safety if there was room for everyone to run.

The plan was set and agreed upon. And there was even a surprise or two in store for the security detail escorting Schmuz to safety.

"Ok," Sam said, looking up from the map to the group around him. "So, we're all 'go' with this, right? If anyone wants to back out, now's the time to do it. All I ask is that you let the rest of us do what needs to be done and wait here until we're gone."

After a little while, without time, without the sun and the moon, days wandering through the halls, eating only when necessary, hydrating only when one could not get out of it, and most definitely not sleeping in cubbies, the corridors looked all the same. It was easy to completely lose track of time.

Stepping out into sudden sunlight and air is shocking, but welcome, despite his misgivings about daylight. Something natural was better than endless corridors of a living machine. This was, of course, some sort of trick, but it was one of the AI's more pleasant ones. A level of his stress already began to drain from him as he wandered through it. He was fairly certain Connor had mentioned--might have even shown him it--but he couldn't say for sure how many days it had been.

So he wandered, and explored. Because Sergeant Kyle Reese had never been very good at sitting down and relaxing, even when he was arguably somewhat exhausted. He moved until he couldn't. Then he found somewhere hidden and less than deadly to sleep in. He still had quite a while in him before then.

Plenty of time to explore the city.

Today should have been weeks ago. Truthfully, he hadn't been ready for it--even on a temporary basis, it was a strange sort of betrayal to take the responsibilities of another team, when there wasn't even any members of SG-1 on it. Leading a team was always a tricky business, and it was often something Cam preferred to tackle only after long deliberation and planning. This was compounded by the fact that Stacy had essentially tossed a group of random strangers together without preamble, and chosen a leader just as arbitrarily.

Of course, the ship wouldn't have just messily thrown anyone together as was convenient, or he wouldn't have gotten an addition to the team later on. Clearly the AI had some way of gauging their skills and finding a complementary combination. However, he did not possess those personnel files. Aside from Dr. Lam, who should not have been on the field, he had no idea what array of strengths, talents, personalities, vices, and weaknesses his impromptu team possessed. That by itself was a recipe for inevitable disaster. The fact that he had no way of knowing whether they were military, or whether they would accept an arbitrarily chosen leader (presumed skills or no) meant that the disaster would very likely happen far sooner rather than later, as soon as they were expected to act as a team.

In lieu of personnel files, buying rounds of drink, and early, rhythm setting missions, Cam would have to come up with alternatives to allow the team to become familiar with one another before they needed to be. He needed to find a way to see how the team members interacted with one another, ferret out peeves, judge where they could be pushed, and determine what unique skill Stacy chose them for before they had a giant alien breathing down their necks.

Most importantly, the team would have to know to trust each other without hesitation, and how to operate together harmoniously, before someone's difficult past and stubborn nature got themselves or someone else killed. On Stacy, there weren't very many ways to prepare a team for that, especially if the team was composed of civilians unused to what would likely be expected of them, or worse, the kind of military men who'd never learned flexibility.

In his own experience, the easiest, least trauma-inducing possibility, was a game of basketball. Many, in fact, but they could start slow, especially if some of them were like the woman he'd met earlier who didn't know the game. The learning of the game could do what he needed just as well.

For now, Cameron stood outside the Sensorium, leaning against a wall and waiting. The sad fact was, he couldn't say for sure when the others would arrive. Even if they all tried to be on time, timekeeping wasn't the most accurate thing on Stacy. Or anything close to that. However, they were in a fairly visible place. He had hope for the best. Even if their watches were off, there was still a good chance they'd all migrate to the right place mostly on time.

Provided they read and listened to the announcement. Apparently it was his turn first, to trust his new team.

[OOC: Despite the fact that Cam has set this up for Team Papa members exclusively, there's no reason someone couldn't just crash the game. He wouldn't prevent them from joining, it. Still on the same side, after all. Sensorium-generated players will augment any uneven teams.]

After being released from stasis, having the slime removed from their bodies and clothed in the creepy, pulsing leaf-suit that everyone wore, and being taken to the Weapons & Possessions lockers to collect their belongings, the new arrivals would find themselves standing in the Observation Deck. Round windows lined the fleshy walls, revealing the bright display of lights that was inter-dimensional travel. They would also discover that there were people--members of the command staff and crew that had woken earlier--waiting for them.

Jack's kind of annoyed right now. Well, more than kind of. Leon took his omnicom! What gives him the right, huh? Jack knows he probably shouldn't have hacked Sam's, but didn't it turn out alright in the end? Heck, everyone should be hailing him as a hero for finding the guy's plans! Not that Jack much likes the idea of being thought of as a hero, but still. Is a little respect that much to ask?

So right now he's falling back on the oldest standby in the book for being frustrated with nothing to do about it: busting stuff up.

Jack has the sensorium set to replicate a particular room in his evil lair. It's mostly bare concrete with some lines painted on the floor, it's the room he usually uses for assembling any really big bots. Instead, he has five smaller ones sitting ready. He's set his helipack off to one side so he doesn't accidentally get it damaged. He holds the Monkey Staff in both hands.

"Monkey Staff!" he shouts, activating it. "Alright fightbots, bring it!"

The robots spring to life and come at Jack. Clearly, they know kung fu. Jack? Jack only sort of knows kung fu. But that's not stopping him, and he has the staff making him much tougher and more agile than normal.

"YAAAAHHH!"

If you look in on the loud crashing and random monkey sounds, he's bouncing all over the room beating the crap out of robots. If you watch one, you'll notice they pick up any broken off limbs, repair themselves, and return to the fray regularly. Jack seems to be just getting started.

Who knew he could actually fight?

For the newbies, there are people waiting for them in the Obs Deck. A whole gaggle of people. Behind them is the nasty statue, and the beautiful sight through the windows of the stars streaming past and the swirling vortex of collars that was interdimensional travel.

There are more questions than answers, but the crew is willing to help, especially the Command Staff and greeters.

[ooc: Newbie Helpers List | Instructions: Post your character with one post establishing them as being podpopped. If you would like to play out them talking to the AI, please send an email to the mods making the request--we do this only by request. Then move onto the big Newbie Meeting. Once your character has gotten the rundown from the old crew, you may start posting entrance posts and freely tagging.]


||Pod Release Protocols Initating|| Stacy's familiar voice sounds out to all the podmates through the ship.

In the Pod Caverns, there are the sounds of: Pop. Pop pop pop. Poppuhpoppoppop. KASCHUNKhiiiiiiiissssss.

There is condensation and mist spraying out from cracks in the pods, as the people inside slide out onto the floors, covered in slime.

--

( There was nothing... )