Ambiance: Libella Swing
The group settles in for the week, finding the people polite, the many diversions pleasing, and the meals consistently enjoyable. The residents of the station begin to accostom to your regular presence, no longer watching you like a zoo curiosity everywhere you go, which provides some relief to your nerves.
Balygyr loiters, listening to the vaguely electro-French swing that pervades, his eyes healing until the week ends and he can finally remove the bandages - his vision healed. With relief, he blinks his gigantic fish eyes at the mirror in his room and morphs them down into the appropriate orbs for his human disguise.
Each of you thinks at some point that an endless high tech existence without the harsh deprivation typified by life in Kumekhna might not be so bad.
That is, except
Emile. Emile remains in his plain white padded cell. Day after day passing without any human contact of any kind. A tray slid into the compartment-box from the other side of the wall twice a day, his trash removed when he sleeps. He can see the empty hallway and other cells but no one comes through there - at least it appears he is the only prisoner here. Do his companions still live? What fate has befallen them? Is he alone now? The space cowboy keeps himself sane through the meditation of his order but as the days pass it looks more and more like he will have to take action himself...
Emile has no contact for a week. Please post if he devises and acts on a plan of his own.
Taavi reads the plentiful material freely available on the laws, norms, and customs of the Exchange of Light and people of the station. He sees the obvious Buddhist influences and makes sense of there all-encompassing drive for consensus and harmony at any cost. With Mandate Portal technology, the Exchange could be harmonious across all of space, which allowed them to provide the basis of the Mandate Credit currency and entire monetary policy and system. With the loss of the portals in the Scream, the local writings show a clear discomfort at the... localness of their harmony. Their desparation for wider connection is almost frantic beneath their calm exteriors, present in every bit of their writing. He remembers the Director mentioning new methods of interstellar communication about to come online, and it makes sense. What technology they may be enabling, though, he cannot fathom.
He then engages himself in the video arcade, enjoying the terminals of
Space Diplomacy and
Portal Logistics, apparently the most popular games of the Old Mandate, as there are several terminals. He is never there alone, however -
Oliver is almost always there when he arrives and still playing when he leaves. So much entertainment is intoxicated and addicting to the youth.
Nora comes by every few hours, uncertain in her concern for the boy.
"I mean... at least i know where he is and that he's not in trouble," she confides to Taavi,
"but is he... ok?" Taavi, able to see the boys thoughts as easily as understanding his own, reassures her. He is under no compulsions or brainwashing, but just a boy with his first video games. Looking at Oliver's mind, he is reminded of the boy's introduction (could it really have been just a few days ago?) Where he told them in the farm kitchen that grandfather only ever allowed him electronic textbooks. Each day she checks back on him less.
On the fifth day, Taavi senses Oliver is disturbed and uncomfortable and goes to check on the boy. On the screen, a first-person character stands in oozing pool of blood in a circular fleshy tunnel. A wooden surface beneath and behind him, a glistening vibrant forest world through the tunnel ahead.
"I have been playing this Fantasy Game," Oliver explains uncomfortably,
"and this level is the Giant's Drink. I am a mouse and this giant has two cups on his giant table. No matter what i picked, I died. One cup, the other cup, spilling them, drinking them... so..." he looks at the floor, quiet.
"So, i wanted to win. I jumped at the Giant's face and chewed my mouse teeth into his eye, burrowed... into his brain, and... well, I won and I don't like it." he points through the now-obvious viscera of an eye socket to the cheerful world beyond.
Hansel and
Shadrach work their way into the confidences of other locals. As you become more and more part of the ship, you find the locals own demeanor shifting to harmonize with your own. There is soon a cluster of gruff, hard-drinking locals with troubled backstories centered around the two world-wise men each night. Hansel finds no other spacers beyond Dantes. Talking about the surveillance, the locals wave it off.
"Algorithm monitoring, don't even worry about it. Only bothers those who are anomalous anyway. It triggers the VI security they will put deviants in the cells." They order another round of shots, describing the robotic security bots that will respond.

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When Shadrach asks about deck C, they are happy to answer, but don't have much in details.
"Never been there. Deck is only for the Directors. We all are on Deck B... never had cause to leave. Deck C is only for emergencies. Never had an emergency." They all chuckle at even the idea of it being unfathomable. One adds,
"I've been to D, though. Technician. Got to keep station systems smooth, after all." Pressed for more details about what Deck C offers for emergencies even this wise station traveller shrugs and says,
"It's all automated. We'll get directions when it happens."