The recruiter's silver tongue tarnishes at the view of your fellow freedom-seekers. Through a haze of steam and sparks, you see a cluster of fellow vagrants, a grim-faced veteran wrenching at the ship's systems, and a cluster of so-called officers consulting a glitching map and a girl who looks somewhere between child and adult. Second thoughts are suffocated in the sealing airlock, however, and you feel the ship's floor pitch and rise beneath you.
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