[It's just Raiden's voice at first, low and rusty.]

....Some of you've probably seen those things by now. They aren't human.

Don't even seem to be alive.

[There's a blip then a shuffle and a sigh followed by a video. It shows an AR display of the Agricultural Wing, with Necromorphs visibly shuffling around behind walls and wires. They don't read as having any pulse or brain activity, but there seems to be something in them that is compelling them to move.]

Anyone got any ideas on what's going on here?

[OOC: For an idea on what is readable from Raiden's video, look here. He can't quite explain his readings, but people with a more scientific background might be able to.]

[The voice on the network may not technically be shouting, but there's a distinctly hard edge to the words that easily translates into 'Oh my god I can't even believe this right now.']

Oi! Anyone using fire to deal with this nonsense had better knock it right off! I don't care if your fire's made of magic, Harry Potter, it's still probably burning up oxygen when you use it to light these bastards up-- and I don't know if you've noticed, but we're in bloody space.

[There's a beat, a sharp intake of breath as Charlie wills himself to not flip the nearest table. Finally, in a low steely tone:] We need oxygen for other things. Like, oh, breathing. Figure out a different way of doing things.

[Time travel. Dystopian futures. Sentient weapons. Space right outside the windows. And these things roaming outside of the observatory. By now Mai's spent the better part of a day mopping up creatures, finding solace for her confusion in doing more than just pinning these things against walls.

And now that she's actually deigned to acknowledge the device thrust upon her when she first arrived, she's only got one real comment for... whatever this thing is supposed to connect her to.]

Do you all usually throw these kind of welcoming parties or were you exceptionally bored?

Hngh.

[ Yeah, that's pretty much all you get to hear at first – a grunt, followed by a long delay of him trying to figure out how this gadget works. It's tricky and he doesn't have the patience, but given what else he's seen and heard so far, this seems almost insignificant in comparison and not quite worth his ire. Because really – space zombies. ]

Okay. Sure, I'll run with this for now. This thing's working, right?

[ Part of him still wants to believe this is a crazy dream—but even so, he's gonna be a professional and deal with it gracefully. For now. Provided this isn't gonna be dragged out. ]

Not that I particularly appreciate being kidnapped to fight for somebody else's cause without so much as proper contract conditions being negotiated first, but whining will get us nowhere, will it?

Given the circumstances. Bad timing all around, it looks like.

Anyway, I got the gist, but there's still a lot of things I don't understand – most pressing matter of all being the question if and how we're gonna get rid of this infestation, or whatever you wanna call it. [ Of course he's still gonna skim the archives later, but first impressions and especially first hand accounts go a long way. And really a zombie-free station would be kinda nice right now. ] So tell me about what you know, what's important – what can be done right now. About yourself, if you feel so inclined, I'd rather get to know my comrades. Unless you'd like to postpone introductions, which is fine by me.

Me, I go by Big Boss, but Snake's fine.

Okay, so here's the thing. I am totally not advocating any of this zombie murder going on right now. But you most of you guys are normies and that's just what you people do to monsters. I guess there's not a whole lot we can do about that.

[WHO IS THE REAL MONSTER? IS IT YOU?!!! IS IT?!!!]

Anyway. I can uh...actually speak zombie. Like the actual language. So if any of you guys want to hold up your tablet to one of them so I can catch a few groans and moans and whatever, I can tell you what they want. Maybe we can resolve this peacefully, y'know?