Stacy was never truly silent. There was the slightly audible hum of the systems, and the others in the Sensorium, to create a rather pleasing sound within the audible range of most species. But Cortana wasn't adding to that; rather she was sitting on her own created boulder, deep in thought. She'd learned quite a bit from Chief's video logs, and more still from the Library once he'd uploaded her back into Stacy's systems. It was a lot of data to process, and so she'd adopted the thinking pose some humans used. Legs pulled up to her chest, and her head resting on her knees. She looked, and felt, almost normal.

...well, normal as an AI passing as a human could get. Oh, the plant suit she'd chosen to appear to wear went a long way to making her blend in compared to her normal holographic form, but the violet tinted blue hair and bright blue eyes didn't help her to blend in. And she honestly didn't know why she'd chosen those. Nostalgia, perhaps? No, she could return to her simple AI form at any time she wanted. And it wasn't as if Stacy didn't carry some different looking people, so it wasn't to stand out. Maybe it was becuase it just felt right to look this way. A mix between a human and the AI she was.

But it didn't really matter. Even with all her processing power, sorting all the information she had taken in over the past few days would still take some time, and that time would be much better spent on figuring out just what the hell had happened then moping about why she had chosen to take this form.

After finally being freed from some annoying lengthy diagnostic tests-she isn't convinced they were even necessary-Tex has taken up residence in one of the media library's pods. Her body language practically screams that she still isn't in what could really be called a good mood, but she's kept the door to the pod open, allowing the sound of the music she's listening to to drift out. She nods her head a little in time to the music, tapping one intangible foot along with the beat.

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.]

Samus has decreed that Grif exercise and hopefully, through some act of god, become less of a slob than he currently is. Part of this is getting him to do something besides laying around on the Obs Deck whining about everything under the sun and several things that aren't.

The sensoriums are set up like a gym, a not uncommon thing considering some members of the crew. One of the treadmills is running, but there's nobody on it. Grif is sitting on a bench off to one side, playing what might be some sort of species of gameboy with the sound muted. He listens in case of approaching footsteps as he waits on the distance to rack up.

What? He's not running a couple miles. Not in this or any universe!

Tex is in her usual haunt on the obs deck, and judging by her body language, she's rather grumpy about that fact. Her arms crossed, she glowers at nothing in particular-everything in her line of sight gets glowered at in the same way. She does seem interested in dealing with people, though-anyone who decides to wander across the obs deck will get an AI focusing on them instead of the furniture.

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 green-skinned alien 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.]

 Yoshimi never thought she would be as glad to leave a room as she is when she hobbles out of the MedBay.  Her shoulder is puffy with gauze, and her legs are still weak from overexertion and blood loss, but the pink-haired woman actually looks rather pleased with the world.  She had been privy to a lot of the goings on in the last few hours - a first for her - and was glad that things seem to have turned out so well.  Especially that kid conked out a few beds down from her - Aang or whatever his name was.  She'd heard vague things about him through whatever grapevine she had access to (admittedly not much of one, being such a recluse as she is), and there was a lot to be said for being able to watch that brunette with the hair loopies pay that much attention to the kid she'd been allegedly looking for for... Kami-sama knows how long.

Still, Aang is far from her mind - as is the rest of the crew - as she stumbles into the caf, her stomach growling.  Food is in order, in her mind, and though she probably ought to be worried about where the hell Dustin has got to, she can't quite bring herself to care right now.  Never has slop tasted so good...

Tex was, by this point, pretty sick and tired of being intangible. It wasn't like it was the first time she had done it-Blood Gulch had given her practice-but that didn't mean she had to like not being solid for a long time. It got in the way of actually being able to do things.

Fortunately, there was a solution besides trying to hijack Grif or Doc.

Tex opted to pop up in the Sensoriums, calling up what looked to be like a lot of snow, rocks, and not much else. She shifted a little as she settled into solid form, checked her gun-also blessedly solid-and started to lope off through the rocks, her posture alert. She was looking for something.

Thaddos was doing nothing more than milling around. He could hear the Machine Spirits wailing in his head, and he hated it. So, that was the reason he was doing nothing at all. He couldn't find the machines.

What a Tech Priest he turned out to be!

His mechadendrites twitched anxiously, the only outward signs of his distress. His vox unit spit out rapid sentences of Machine Cant, which might mean everything from 'where are you, honourable Machine Spirits?' or 'Skak this.'

It's one of the facts of life-grass is green, the sky is blue, and your average mainframe is inherently pretty boring. Which would be why Tex's hologram has popped up to keep an eye on the obs deck. It's a major hub, after all, and she's found it's the best spot to aggravate people people-watch from.

Until she actually finds somebody interesting enough to watch, though, she's just going to stand there, her posture screaming grumpiness.

In spite of the success of the newly pod-popped at staying alive in the zombie-infested Pod Caverns, there were plenty of zombies left to go around. The Extermination Team had their work cut out for them -- and they'd better be sure they got them all. There were billions of sleeping people in their life-support pods, as vulnerable as low-hanging fruit as far as the zombies were concerned. They'd have a little trouble, since Andromeda had triggered the safety protocols that hardened the pod walls into something more like shells.

The zombies might be able to shatter them if they had long enough, though. Best to deal with them quickly.

Especially since some of these zombies couldn't be taken out by just a shot to the head...

...Okay, so maybe that movie was about vampires and not zombies.

But as the battle in the Vatican dragged on, it might feel like it had been going just that long.

And it showed no signs of letting up just yet.

The Chief's got the sensoriums up with a shooting range. It's not the one he's called up in the past, this is an outdoor range. There are several different target distances, including the long, long rifle lines for things with considerable scope to them, at the end of the range are some somewhat chewed out hills deep enough to catch most impacts. There's plenty of open space off to one side with some practice dummies for melee training, and plenty of open space in general. It's relatively sunny and the air is fresh, but the weather's an after thought. They needed a range. Chief called one up.

They all have a lot of work cut out for them.

The Chief is in full armor, doing a little quick rifle maintenance before anybody shows up. It's holographic, but it serves his purpose for now.

[OOC: This is a FULLY OPEN post. Subthread all you want. Tag each other, teach each other, ask questions, branch off. It's like a big social thread with guns!]

([Also OOC:] If you need to talk to the Chief, just warning you that I'm a bit swamped right now. I'll get back to you but it'll be a slow process. @_@)

Grif settles back into the fleshy couch, having just posted a message on the omnicoms, re: his empty stomach. He doesn't want to get up and go get some crappy food from the mess hall himself, even though he is hungry. He doesn't feel like it. And he's comfortable here. Why not make somebody else do it? Grif's long since figured out that if he wants anything in life, all he usually has to do is complain about it until people get sick of hearing him whine and go fix the problem.

While he waits for an answer (and most likely an argument, he looks forward to that), legs over the back of the meatcouch with his head hanging just off the edge of the seat, he keeps an eye out for anyone passing by so he can possibly recruit them to the food-getting effort.

Really, it would just be easier to go get it himself. But where would the fun in that be?

If nothing else, being on the good ship Stacy has taught Tex something. Namely, intangibility sucks. It certainly makes poking into things-and beating the crap out of Grif people who deserve it-that much harder.

Which would be why her hologram's popped up on the obs deck, watching things with a decidedly cranky stance. Someone has to have gotten into something she can snark at them for.

The sensorium appears deserted. It's taken on the appearance of a box canyon, the ground mostly orange and dusty with some particularly stubborn grass eking out an existance. The hills are steep enough to cut off your view of anything distant, and the sky above is a blazingly clear blue. It's also very hot here. Very hot. The sun does not love this canyon.

Though there's no one around, a soft whirring becomes audible. Then it turns into the full engine-whine of a warthog jeep as one comes flying up one of the hills, catching air off the top. There's a man in orange armor at the wheel, yelling.

"WHOO! YEAH!"

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.

There are a few constants in life. One of those is 'diagnostics is boring'. This is a fact that Tex has picked up on very quickly-and so she's eager to get away from it for awhile. Her hologram appears on the obs deck, and she glances around briefly, looking to see who else might be around. There's got to be somebody to vent her snark and frustration on, right?

Right?

Samus was on a mission.

More specifically, she was on a mission to find one of her team members. She need to teach him a little lesson in respecting authority. She and Grif had a slight altercation on appropriate ways to refer to her. She was going to correct this in the quickest way possible.

Which Samus thought was with her fists.