[the camera is on Renee in Nondescript Alley #9, not wearing the mask that usually renders her faceless. She figures unless she wants to walk around with the mask 24/7 she'll need people to get used to seeing her normal face and avoid associating with her Question identity.]

Haven't had much use for this thing so far, but I'm getting desperate so I figured I'd give it a shot. Tell me someone knows where I can get a drinkable cup of coffee in this dump. Anyone who does gets a cup for themselves on me.

[No she's not going to give her name and background. If you need it she's likely already found you or will find you. Pardon her attitude, recovering alcoholic/ex-cop in a city with more bars than coffee places does not make for a happy Renee. Still, at least she's offering a reward. She taps her finger on the side of the computer for a second, then looks vaguely irritated at something and goes on]

Also, I've been hearing stories about tension between arrivals and exiles, not to mention inter-group conflict. Anyone doing anything about that? Doesn't seem to be any sort of police force.

[It's the first time she's shown her face on the network, attached it to her name; an unprecedented situation calls for caution. But the moment now is opportune. Her words will have more resonance if the people can see who's behind them.

Words that, while delayed slightly because of circumstance, have been far from forgotten.]

In my short time here, it has been clear to me that a lack of organization is a detriment to the operations of the Initiative, and, by extension, the well-being of Transports. Efforts have been made recently to address this lack of organization, but while commendable, they are not without their concerns.

By making a move such as that proposed to create a Transport-only governing body, we forget ourselves, as well as our cause. We forget that the Transport population is merely part of a whole, one that must be united in the face of a common threat. By making such a move, we only risk further alienating the Exiles, creating a larger rift when we cannot afford one in the first place.

I do not believe this move is ideal. More time and care are needed to consider the consequences it might have. To consider alternative solutions.

[She pauses, gives time for all of that to breathe before she concludes.]

If you have thoughts or concerns, I urge you to air them. This is a matter which affects us all, and every voice that wishes to be heard should be allowed the opportunity.

[ Effie clears her throat. Taps the microphone. Puts on her best smile even though nobody can see it and parts her rouged lips to speak in that designer Capitol accent.

She is a woman on a mission and for once it isn't entirely selfish. ]

Attention.

Attention everyone.

Thank you.

There has been some concern as of late regarding the lack of feminine necessities available to the recruited ladies of this establishment. I have taken it upon myself to run a charitable drive for distribution of these items to any person who requires them.

We would be delighted to accept your generous donation of fine fabrics and aesthetic materials such as powder or perfume that could contribute towards a woman's well-being.

Please note, gentlemen, that this effort is as much for your sake as it is for ours, and on behalf of the ladies in Exsilium we appreciate your cooperation in advance.

[ the video switches on to the oddest not-odd couple. at least for those who know han seeing him accompanied by a nonhuman is not a surprise. except of the "big walking carpet" that usually follows han around garrus only fits the big and walking parts. an ewok climbs garrus to sit on his shoulders, the little guy chattering on to himself in his language.

the image is trained on han first who stares at it with such blatant disinterest it's a wonder his eyes aren't rolling into the back of his head. ]

I'm Han Solo, captain of the Millennium Falcon. [ yes, his baby gets a mention even if his baby is not here. ] My big friend here is Garrus Vakarian. We're not gonna bore you with warnings about the natives. If you want to go out and risk getting jumped on, that's on you. I'd say shoot 'em, but that's not politically correct.

[ why did he let himself get talked into this? what is happening with his life anymore, it is spiraling out of control. the big walking not carpet rolls his eyes, though from his place in the background it might be a little hard to see. not the most expressive alien on the place here. ]

Shooting them would be a terrible idea, you'll only piss them off more.

Yeah, yeah, I heard it the first twenty times. [ EYE ROLL. ] Anyway we're going to talk about something a little different. We're all aliens here. Before you start getting offended that you're from Earth — [ an aside to garrus that the tablet picks up anyway ] that has to be the worst name for a planet I've ever heard, next there's gonna be one called "Rock" — this isn't your version of it so you're an alien. But there's a difference between you and us. When we think interstellar, we don't think of Daft Punk. So we're here to give you a crash course on interspecies etiquette.

One, don't stare. You're just asking to get shot.

[ crickets. what? you're expecting him to contribute to this stupid list thing?

(he is starting to regret this friendship.) ]

Don't pull on anything. [ mandibles twitch, eyebrows narrow, a hand reaches up to touch the top of his head. okay that is all he is contributing, he's the peanut gallery now. ]

Yeah, that's a good one, my friend. Especially if you're not sure what it is. Actually that goes for everything. Keep your hands to yourself. Blasters and phasers are not toys. Neither are lightsabers. You see a man walking around with one? Go in the opposite direction. He's got a bit of a short temper. [ han, you are going to die. ]

[ a snort. ]

Lightsaber? [ really? ]

Yeah. Antiquated relic. I'll tell you about it later.

[ he clears his throat. ]

By the way, if any of you are any good at building, let us know. There might be an exciting career opportunity in your future.


(( note: your characters are free to recognize han from the movies but please please try to keep infodumping down to a minimum thank you c: ))

[ Sharpe has his tablet set on the table facing him, and his foot is on the chair, knee near his ear. His rifle is propped up against his other shoulder, and his fingers and moving down it, fingering the barrel. ]

I ain't one fer long speeches, so I'll keep this short. [ His eyes flicker finally towards the screen, and he stares straight into it. ]

I know I ain't the only one that's being given dirty looks by the Exiles - that's the proper name fer the poor bastards who're here 'fore all of us, fer those of you who don't know. And I'm telling you right out: if I see anyone fighting or using weapons against them, no matter what they're doing, I'll hunt you down and shoot you in the face. [ Said the most casually ever. But he is leaning forward. ]

That's a promise.

[ A second passes, and Sharpe seems satisfied with what he just said, so he drops back to his seat. ]

Listen. I've seen people like 'em before. People who just want peaceful lives but are dumped in the midst of war. [ Snorts. ] You all know the sickness and bombs last month [ pause ] - if you don't know, read back on the buggering network 'cause I ain't explaining shite you can read yerself - [ back to the topic ] and that's more than enough ta make anyone resentful. They hate us 'cause they think we brought the war ta 'em. We all know we didn't, but resentment's never been particularly logical. Grit yer teeth and bear it. Be decent.

If you try ta hurt 'em, it'll make things worse, and I'd rather not have ta make me own tea because the man in the shop I like starts hating me for the stupid shite any of you are doing. [ His eyes flicker up again. ] I don't ever miss, aye?

[ Pause. As if he's just thought of it. ] Me name's Major Richard Sharpe of the Prince of Wales's Own in Duke Wellington's army. [ A crooked smile, a salute. ] If that means anything ta any of you.

[ ooc; for more info, check out the outline about native hostility. I'm the slowest ever. ]