Vaylar Rising — IC

[BartNL]

John turns to turn as Tone reveals his supernatural nature dumbfounded. He then squints and stares at Tone as if attempting to look through him."Is that right, huh? Heard a lot of stories about that stuff back in the orphanage. Silly rumours and ghost stories of course, always ending with the child never being seen again. But I can't say I'm all that surprised. I'm a nobody, and I can hardly remember how often I was ordered to bury or forget things. Wonder how many other skeletons they have hidden away in the closet. John responds.

OOC

How much time is there left before leaving?

[Namelessjake]

OOC

You have around 30 minutes, which would include any time spent gearing up from your weapons cache.

[ratwizard]

"Davonia weren't saints about it when I was a kid," Antoine admits. "They didn't disappear folk like me, but there certainly wasn't much choice involved. Now, though?" He shakes his head, thinking about Gabriel. "It's bad. Those stories you heard probably don't do it justice."

[FinalTemplar]

Tristan puts his hands in his pockets, chewing on what Tone had just said for a moment. "Wait a minute... You're a psych?" He says, sounding shocked. "I mean, I've heard they exist, sure... but I could have sworn that shit was all holodrama stuff. Fake, pretend shit." He pauses for a minute to mull it over; "I mean, I wasn't ever much for propaganda anyways, so, I won't treat you any differently, but... I've never seen one of you before." He shrugs softly, playfully poking Tone's shoulder. "You all could have left me to die back there and you didn't, whether you meant to or not. I'm not just gonna to turn heel, on any of you, no matter where you come from."

[Namelessjake]

"A friend of mine growing up said they had visions of the future," Jin adds. "They disappeared one night and the next day a couple of Diktat suits showed up at our camp asking about them. Never saw they again - hopefully they were able to say ahead."

"Interesting," Thoras says, his face not revealing any further emotion beyond simply acknowledging Antoine's revelation.

"I must go now, good luck. I hope to see you all again in a few days," he says after checking something on his compad. Thoras departs, leaving you to gear up. Tamiko leads you into the junk piles and over to an old armoured delivery van. Cracking open the secret cache, hidden in the scan-shielded safe in the back of the van, you grab you weapons, ammunition and armour.

Packed and ready to go, you clamber up into the back of the container, finding some rudimentary seating has been installed inside, repurposed from an assortment of old vehicles, along with a cobbled together life support system. As the last of your cell climb inside, Tamiko shuts the doors behind you, sealing you inside. A few moments later, you hear the muffled sound of the truck coming to life soon followed by a lurch forward as you start on your journey to the spaceport.

OOC

You should update your inventory with anything you wish to bring from your cache of stolen arms and armour. As previously mentioned, they are still illegal on Terai so making sure you are able to conceal them is a good idea (i.e. making sure you can stow all of your large weapons/unworn armour).

If there is anything else you wish to have done in the half an hour you have before leaving you should also mention that now.

[ratwizard]

"Hopefully," Antoine offers Jin meekly, though he suspects otherwise.

He eyes Thoras, wondering what the man's true thoughts are. Might be he'll have more work for me. Or might be he sees me as too large a liability. Course, it's too early to say either way. Not like I got any other options but forward at this point, all things considered.

Antoine loads up his gear, opting to leave behind anything too suspicious. He takes a look at the inside of the container as he climbs up and takes a seat, sighing inwardly. Feels like a coffin.

OOC

Inventory has been updated. Not taking any arms or armor as I can create them.

[FinalTemplar]

ooc

Tristan will only add the stolen revolver and ammo to his inventory, assuming he can hide it on his person.

[greysigil]

The VI watches the others finalize their gear, taking a handgun and a couple magazines for it, stowing them securely in a compartment in their chassis.

They step up into the shipping container and scan the inside, looking for a space that will accommodate their bulk, both weight and size. Space = cramped. Reminiscent. Have I been transported life this before? Query to be resolved later.

They settle in, their blue eyelights watching over their comrades in the relative darkness.

[Scratcherclaw]

Sven takes a deep breath, stowing his submachine gun in a hidden pocket on the inside of his jacket. Let's hope there aren't random searches or something. Then again, might still get away with it. He follows into the shipping container, acutely aware of how close the walls are around him. Cramped. Hope we don't have to stay in here longer than we need. Gonna figure out who didn't shower today real quick.

[Namelessjake]

You settle down in the container, getting as comfortable as its confines allow. After around half an hour or so, the truck carrying the container comes to a stop and you feel the container lift from the truck bed and be deposited elsewhere. Another hour or so passes before you feel movement once again - most likely being loaded onto a cargo lighter for the trip up to orbit those of you familiar with the process think.

This is proved correct as it isn't long before the rumbling of engines shake the container as you are lifted skyward. The G-forces pushing you into the makeshift seats Tamiko installed. A few minutes later the vibrations stop and you feel your limbs become weightless.

"Woah," Jin says, his eyes fixed on his compad which floats gently away from his hands.

You feel a few short burst of manoeuvring thrusters, followed by the metallic thuck of mag locks securing the container in place aboard the bulk freighter that will carry it to Terai, before you are left waiting once more. A couple more hours pass before you feel the bulk freighter get underway, its spike drive dampened movement much more gentle than the raw power of the cargo lighter's torch engines.

This part of the journey takes many hours and you pass the time as best you can with conversation and the various media you have downloaded on your compads, accessible off-network.

Eventually, without warning, you feel the freighter come to a stop as it enters orbit above Terai. If the container had windows you would be able to see the azure blue of its endless ocean stretching as far as you can see, speckled with white flecks of clouds.

After a wait, you hear the mag locks release and your container is transferred to another cargo lighter for the descent down to the surface. Strapping back into your seats, you are thrown around as you re-enter the atmosphere. Another clunk suddenly sends you into free fall before you feel the container hit the water with a splash. The container floats for a minute before you feel a crane connect and lift the container up out of the water.

A few moments later the door of the container is cracked open and bright sunlight streams in. Cold salty sea air rushes in to replace the stale recycled air you have been rebreathing over and over for the duration of the journey. As your eyes adjust to the light and you step out of the container, you find yourselves on the deck of a large fishing vessel. Most of the crew pay you no attention as they work on putting out the ship's nets, however a small older group stand waiting to greet you.

"Welcome to Terai," a greying man in overalls with a scruffy beard says, beaming with a smile.  "I hope the journey wasn't too bad given the circumstances," he adds. "We haven't been told much about why you're here, but we have a small boat ready for-"

"I'll be damned," another of the older men interrupts. "Sirula?" He asks, looking at Em. "I thought you were dead," he says, his eyes starting to well up slightly.

Em

You recognise the man as a fellow member of the Emerald's crew, and one of your many parental figures grouping up on the ship. Known as Frakes, a kind and patient man who found joy in teaching the children of the commune seamanship, he went missing and was presumed dead after the Diktat's massacre of the Aminferth Commune.

Inventories

These are the inventories, based on updates to the OOC and things people have mentioned OOC, you can still make small changes if this is objectively wrong based on what you intended, but you are effectively locked in for this mission now.

[ratwizard]

Antoine sits quietly for the better part of the transit, no stranger to long hauls in null-g. He cracks a soft smile at Jin's perplexion. "You won't want that in the air once we're under thrust. Turns into a missile. Knew a guy who lost half a jaw learning that lesson."

He settles into his improvised seating, listening to timeless recordings of music far older than he is. He meditates, practices his telekinesis in micromovements.

The man's stomach lurches as they break the surface of Terai's seas. First time being the freight instead of hauling it. Ain't a fan.

When the welcoming crew unlocks their container, Antoine takes a deep breath — grateful for the sea air. He eyes the second man curiously as he seems to identify Em. Watching for her response, he grabs his pack and quickly disembarks, getting a better sense of where they are.

[Scratcherclaw]

Sven settles in uncomfortably, shifting his weight and pulling out his compad to enjoy a newly-smuggled reality show, Dusk and Dawn in Alldis. Damn, this Nerise is a bitch. Hope she gets voted off. He barely noticed the loss of gravity, too focused on the drama that only highly-intoxicated, excessively-wealthy twentysomes can brew amongst another.

He's brought back toward reality with a splash, barely keeping a grip on his compad before it could tumble to the container floor. "Ride's over, I guess. Gonna feel this tomorrow," he says, finally standing and stretching his stiff limbs.

He raises an eyebrow as one of their contacts recognizes Em before looking out onto the blue expanse, a truly endless ocean. Goddamn... Hate to imagine what lives beneath all this. 

[Fialova]

Em relaxes into her seat as best she can on the container, turning on an ambient ocean sounds track on her compad to listen to and calm her nerves while they travel to her old home. She chats with the other when prompted, but otherwise rests her head against the back of the seat and keeps her eyes closed for much of the trip, mentally preparing herself for her return.

She is jolted out of her semi-trance by the violent drop and splash into Terai's ocean, and a mixture of calm and anticipation wash over her. Ah, nice to be back on the open seas, she thinks, standing from the seat when it is safe to do so and finding her sea legs have not left her after so many years away. When the crate is opened, she takes a nice deep breath of the salty sea air, taking in the sounds and smells she'd missed since moving to the city. It is a bittersweet reunion, reminding her as always of the pain she felt before leaving, but also of the many good years she had before the Diktat ruined everything.

As her eyes adjust and they are approached by a group of older men, she is immediately drawn by the one who later speaks to her. Frakes?! It can't be... "I could say the same for you, old man," she responds at his obvious recognition, rushing to him and wrapping him in a hug. Like his, a few tears begin to well in her eyes as she realizes that one of the many people she thought she'd lost was still alive. Are there others who survived too? I will have to pick his brain when we have a moment alone, she thinks, as her grip tightens on the man.

[FinalTemplar]

Tristan finds a tight spot to sit in and lets himself sleep for the start of the trip—the cold of the container and the slight rocking assist in this matter. He eventually awakes shortly after the ship activates its spike drive. With the safety on, Tristan spends a good chunk of the trip examining the Revolver he stole, learning the ins and outs of the weapon as best as he can without tearing it apart, seemingly fascinated by it.

Eventually, as the container lands in the water, he quickly holsters the gun, and slowly stands, though he has not been out on a boat before. As he exits the container and walks out onto the boat he looks around at the open sea. He smiles, and seems almost- It's not long before he finds a side of the boat he can puke off of. It takes him a few moments to recover, and he wanders back over to the others slowly. "I'm... sorry. I'll try not to let that happen again." He says, clearly not adjusting well to the ocean.

[Namelessjake]

Frakes returns Em's hug as the two embrace.

"Don't worry you'll find your sea legs eventually. You don't get much of a choice here," the other man says to Tristan, watching the ex-gangster commit his last meal to the deep. He waits for Em and Frakes to break apart before continuing where he left off.

"As I was saying we have a small boat ready for you. Isille is currently about an hour away, we'll get you close then you can make your way in. These waters are pretty busy so you shouldn't arouse any suspicion. We'll wait out at sea to pick you up once you're done doing whatever it is you're doing."

"What ever it is, give 'em hell," Frakes adds. "Everyone on this boat has lost people one way or another to the invaders, we'll be glad to see their nose bloodied."

[Fialova]

"We will," Em responds, as she steps a little back from Frakes, though keeping one arm on one of his. "For the Emerald, and for Aminferth," she adds, giving her old mentor a stern nod before wiping the tears onto her other sleeve. Turning now to Jin, she says, "you're the driver, I know, but let me take the helm here. I know the waters here better than a lot of the people sailing here, let alone any of you. Been on 'em most my life." Ain't no way this city boy is getting us there safer than me.

[Namelessjake]

"No complaints here," Jin says holding up his hands to Em. "This is my first time on a boat bigger than a canoe," he adds.

[ratwizard]

Antoine watches with grim patience at the ex-gangster's incident. He listens closely to the greying man, nodding softly.

"Any problem if I leave our comms server with you?" he asks the man in overalls, judging him to be the authority figure aboard. "Gives us a closed network to go off of. Don't know what kinda bugs they got on comm traffic using public channels. Don't worry, I'll bring it back the way it came afterwards."

[Scratcherclaw]

"Aye aye, Captain," Sven says with a cheeky smirk as Em volunteers herself to pilot their boat. "Hope the seas aren't as rough as that landing. Last thing we need is someone else losing their lunch." He gives Tristan a side eye, wincing at the pitter-patter splash of bile meeting the water. Guess some fish just got lunch too. Gross.

 

[Namelessjake]

"Sure. Although if we get boarded its going overboard," the other man replies to Antoine.

"We are sticking our necks out here for you. I don't want to risk my crew more than necessary."

[ratwizard]

"Fair enough," Antoine answers with a shrug. Ain't much binding all of us together, except for one single bone to pick with the Escriosians. I can understand a man who puts his crew first. Supposed to be what leadership's about, way I see it.

He hoists the bulky comms server out of his pack, setting it on the deck. "Wherever you want it."

[Namelessjake]

"I'll keep a hold of it for now," the man replies, taking the comms server from Antoine and tucking it under his arm. He then brings his free hand to his mouth, using his fingers to let out a short piercing whistle, gaining the attention of the other members of the crew.

"Alren!" He yells to a fresh faced young man, gesturing for him to come over from the net he was working on.

"Cap'n?" The boy asks, crossing the deck with a short jog.

"Take our guests and show them their boat," the captain says to his crewman, before turning back to you. "We're needed on the bridge but between Alren here and this one - you should be fine," he says, gesturing to Em. "Good luck out there."

"Be safe," Frakes adds, touching Em gently on the arm before the duo turn to leave, disappearing up a rickety looking metal staircase, into the network of cranes and catwalks that tower over the open deck of the ship.

"This way," Alren says, leading you along the deck towards the stern of the ship before taking you down staircase to a lower deck where a small boat hangs from two cranes, ready to lower it down into the water. The boat is open topped with rigid inflatable sides.

"This is our RHIB," Alren says. "It's a pretty standard jetboat, so I shouldn't need to show you much," he adds, looking to Em as he starts to run through a few of the boat's unique features.

"Powercells are charged up and good to go, should have more than enough range, he says as he gets towards the end of his technical spiel. "If you run into any mechanical trouble there's a toolkit and some spares onboard, and if you run into any other trouble, the back benches have secret compartments underneath them. What's in those should get you out of most situations," he adds with a knowing smirk.

RHIB

[Fialova]

Em gives Frakes a nod and a smile as he pats her before heading on his way, turning to Alren to say, "alright, take us there," before he leads them down to the RHIB. Once at the vessel, she half-heartedly listens to Alren's explanation while glancing over the boat in contemplation. Small, fast, good for a strike mission for sure. Not so good if they got any drones or VIs, though. Let's hope things are smooth sailing and we don't have to use any of the 'hidden' goodies stowed down there.

"'ppreciate it," she says, offering their guide a solid pat on the shoulder after he has finished giving the rundown of boat. "Best of luck to you and your crew, hopefully you need it less than us," she says, before turning to the others. "Hopefully none of you got motion sickness, we're probably gonna be goin' pretty fast."

[ratwizard]

Secret compartments, Antoine considers. "Thanks, kid," he offers to Alren, giving the boy a considerate nod.

"Fast is good."

He climbs aboard the RHIB, heading toward the secret compartments to take inventory. It is like instinct for him. Something a driver always did — inspected their haul before moving out onto the open road, sea, or skies. We already secured enough guns to get us through whatever. Here's hoping it's something else.

[Namelessjake]

With foreknowledge of their existence, Antoine is able to quickly locate the hidden compartments and unlatch them, the seats lifting up to reveal the weaponry Alren had been eluding to. Stowed in each compartment is a man portable rocket launcher, of Davonian make judging by their apparent age, along with a number of rockets carefully packed in an ammo box.

[ratwizard]

"Well," Antoine manages with a sudden gasp. He stares blankly at the rocket launchers for a long moment.

Gathering his confidence, he turns to the others. "That's a heavy-duty solution for a heavy-duty problem. Any luck, it won't come to that — picking up this Matias fellow. But in case it does..."

Even telekinesis can't match a goddamn bazooka.

[Scratcherclaw]

Sven looks at the rocket launcher, mouth agape at seeing some a weapon stowed away like a simple lifejacket or flare gun. "I mean..." He pauses, blinking dumbfounded a few more times at the discovery. "I haven't seen a problem an explosion can't solve. But yeah, let's keep that for emergencies."

[greysigil]

"Main System: Exiting Standby Mode." Jug outputs upon waking, logging the sway of the ship and nearly lurching to one side. "Recalibrating Balance Protocols." They adjust their stance and balance module, before taking a step, then another, satisfied that they will be able to keep themself upright.

---

"Aphorism: Better to have and not need, than need and not have, as they say." The VI monotones. "Rumination: What kind of situation could they be anticipating, that would necessitate such ordinance?"

[Fialova]

"The Diktat is real nasty in these parts," Em says, frowning at the sight of the rocket launchers as she remembers the various purges in her old home. We coulda used some of these back then, might not have had so many die on us. "VIs, fast gunboats. Reckon these will be good if we get pursued too close. Can just send the pursuers down to the bottom."

[FinalTemplar]

Tristan simply follows the others into the smaller boat, still not feeling great about being on the water.

[ratwizard]

"Damn," Antoine manages at Em's explanation. "Best case scenario, we get in and out before things come to that."

He sets his jaw, the tension getting to him for the moment. We're not soldiers or spies. We're just people, the psychic realizes, looking across the others. Skilled people, most definitely. Some of us even with a knack. Just... just hope it's enough.

[Namelessjake]

"We've not needed them before now and hopefully neither will you - but I know I'd rather go down swinging if it comes to it," Alren replies.

You spend the next few minutes stowing your packs and climbing aboard, with Alren and Em finishing up the preparations to have the boat ready for launch. You continue to make small talk and perform any final checks of your gear, before eventually a radio on Alren's belt squawks into life, signaling you are close enough now to launch.

"Good luck," the deckhand says as it activates the crane, lowering the boat down towards the waves. "Round our bow and you should see the city," he directs. As you hit the water and release the tethers, Em takes control and hits the gas. You race away from the large fishing trawler, crossing its bow as instructed, jumping from wave to wave. In the distance on the horizon, the towers of a city glitter in the sunlight. The city grows bigger as you motor towards it, several clusters of towers on a humongous floating platform, heading for the public moorings.

Isille

[Scratcherclaw]

"Goddamn," Sven manages as the floating city comes into view, never having seen anything quite like it. "They built a city of this size out here?" He looks to Em, curious if the local can play tour guide to sate his interest. Damn, Tristan's in for a rough time. Even on land, you're not on land. Poor sucker should've packed some meds.

[ratwizard]

"She's beautiful, ain't she?" Antoine remarks, a rare smile crawling across his stubbled chin. It's gone before he's even turned toward Em. "You know this place we're making for?"

[Fialova]

"They made several," Em responds to Sven, frowning as the city comes into view. And now they are all under Diktat control. "Mine was much smaller, more like a small town in comparison, but there are many spots just like it all 'round these waters." Turning to face Antoine at his own question, she says, "I've seen it, but never really been. My commune was not as interested in the bigger cities, but can't say for sure if I ever was there as a child." Now I kinda wish I had, given the state of things. Probably won't ever know what it used to be like before the Diktat took over.

[FinalTemplar]

Tristan spends much time on the boat holding back his stomach. He tries to keep it together as the city comes into proper view. He looks up at it, his amazement shows on his face. He feels better for a moment as he looks up at it. "Woah, that place looks amazing. I can only imagine-" Tristan cuts himself off mid-sentence, leaning over quickly to hurl over the side of the boat, unable to stop himself as he pukes for several moments. He silently berates himself for going on this mission.

Mechanics

Physical save: [1d20]=1

[Namelessjake]

Em pilots the boat towards the city, passing other small launches and more moderately sized cargo and fishing vessels as she takes the boat into one of the artificial harbours created by the floating platform's spoked snowflake like design. Slowing down and entering the calm waters of the harbour you weave in and out of the other harbour traffic. The walls of the platform edge tower over you on all sides, a network of elevators, cranes and catwalks connecting the piers and warehouses of the harbour to the city above. Making your way to a free berth you have barely started disembarking before a uniformed officer of the harbourmaster's office appears.

"Vessel registration, vessel or port of origin, cargo manifest, passenger and crew names and identification, please. And the mooring fees will be 400 credits per day paid upfront," they say, rattling through the requirements with the rapid cadence of a phrase repeated multiple times a day as they open up what appears to be a registration system on a dataslab.

[ratwizard]

Antoine grows uncomfortable the moment the harbor officer approaches. Docs, of course. Damn. Needed to have a plan here.

He melts into the back of the group, taking a few quiet steps toward the pilot's seat. Let's see what kind of registration they've got on this thing, if any. Sure I could whip up something, given enough time. Moved too much damn freight to not have an answer for this.

Mechanics

Is there the equivalent of a glove compartment on this thing?

[Namelessjake]

Antoine begins searching the small compartments in the boat's control console console. Seeing this, Jin quickly moves to join him, the two men rifling through old fishing tackle, spare parts and old sea and star charts, however their search fails to turn up anything resembling official documentation.

[Scratcherclaw]

Well shit. Sven's eyes look to Em, wondering if the local might have any better idea on how to handle the officer. Wonder if extra credits would be enough to sway this goob. Hard to say how things work in a place like this... And how seriously this dude takes his job. Nothing worse than a low level bureaucrat with a hardon for the process.

[ratwizard]

Antoine sighs inwardly, finding the boat without any obvious papers. He peers around the marina, looking to see what other distractions he might be able to cause for the time being.

OOC

What's around us? Any other boats near us that can be untied? What's the dock made out of? Anything hanging above us like cranes or light fixtures?

[Namelessjake]

OOC

The pier you are standing on/are moored to, and the others around you, are pontoons floating in the safety of the city platform. The other boats in the area mostly consist of small skiffs, launches and pleasure craft, with a couple of larger barges and fishing boats. Overhead, a crane on a gantry is in the process of unloading cargo from one of the barges.

[ratwizard]

Antoine eyes the crane, considering how he might buy them some time. Wonder how much that thing'll budge, he considers.

Spoiler

Is the crane carrying anything at the moment? Could I potentially use telekinesis to loosen its grip and drop some cargo?

[Namelessjake]

Antoine

The crane is in the process of unloading cargo, however it appears that the weights and forces involved would be too great for your current powers.

[Namelessjake]

As the harbour master's agent looks on expectantly, awaiting an answer, John steps from the boat up onto the pier next to him.

"We've no cargo, it's just us, but unfortunately we don't have any registration on hand," he says. "The boat's parent vessel was sold two weeks ago. Our employer bought the ship and this boat with it, but the paperwork is still processing. The seller is already past the deadline to file their 47A-9. If needs be you can check with the Terai Marine Authority, I'm sure they'll be able to give you any further details you need," he explains, offering the man a sympathetic shrug.

The man lets out an exasperated sigh. "You'll probably have everything sorted by the time they get back to me anyway. If it comes through while you're still in port, bring it by the harbour master's office," he says.

"Of course," John replies.

"In that case, I'll just need the mooring fee and IDs from everyone," the officer says. As required by law, all of you carry identification loaded onto your compads. Providing it now is unlikely to raise any flags or arouse any suspicions, however should things go sideways during your mission you might run the risk of alerting the wider Diktat authorities to your identities and being unable to return to your old lives.

Mechanics

John Cha/Admin: 9

[Fialova]

Em aids the others in their search for the boat's registration, but is similarly unable to find anything. Sighing, she thinks of what obscure rules she'd encountered from the past she could bring up, when John steps forward and does her job for her. Damn, man's sure got a talent for bullshit. Saves me the hassle, at least. Or not, she thinks, as the dockmaster proceeds to requesting identification. Shit. Don't need them knowing my name, for all Terai knows, I'm dead.

OOC

Is there any sort of roll that could be made to fake an ID on the spot, such as by editing info in the compad while 'pulling up' one's ID?

[Namelessjake]

Em

You are aware that, since the beginning of the Diktat occupation, shakedowns by the various port authorities of the major cities are a fairly common occurrence. While this does not seem to be such a shakedown, this agent is likely familiar with the intended effect of a well placed bribe or two.

OOC

Int/Program could be used to quickly spoof your ID and its associated verification. Presenting a fake ID, if discovered, would be a serious crime however.

[ratwizard]

Antoine's jaw loosens as John talks paperwork and forms. When it's apparent the harbor agent seems appeased, his shoulders relax too. He could have had a bright future ahead of him as a Diktat suit. Sure glad he didn't like the fit.

"You heard the fees, pay your share to Miranda," he says to the others, his tone casual as he transfers 150 credits over to Em's compad. Pocketing his, he steps forward and approaches the agent. "Here you go." He allows the man to scan his identification, knowing it shouldn't flag as too suspicious. He'd been to dozens of stations and terminals in the last several years during his long-hauls and oddjobs. This part feels just about the most routine thing we've done today.

OOC

Paying 150 to Em to pool funds.

[Namelessjake]

OOC

Remaining credits from the sale of Jug have been split between the cell, new credit totals are as follows;

Jin: 847
Sven: 413
Antoine: 468
Em: 403
Jug: 898
Tristan: 643
Stamps: 1953

[greysigil]

Jug stays silent throughout the exchange, swaying with the vessel, monitoring their internal log. The rhythmic rocking, accompanied by the reports of their servos compensating, left, right, left, right, would feel soothing to a human, one accustomed to the sea.

Bureaucracy = Tedious. This Officer = Unnecessary. Automation = More Efficient, Faster. The automaton computes, their coolant pumping slightly faster as the impassive string pulses across their processor.