Above The Crest : A Short Story
Above The Crest : A Short Story
A solarpunk short story from an island on the edge.
This story is based off a dream my partner had. She told me and I immediately had to record her explanation and build on it. Sometimes dreams can be litteral and metaphorical.
This story ties into the same wold as “Under The Array” and will tie into a novella I’m working on called “The Wilds”
This is somewhat of an interactive story best viewed on a desktop. Feel free to play the music and get wrapped in the story!
“Alright everyone, get ya shit in order. Should be coming up to the Utani in about forty-five minutes. Cut the comms and make sure anything with a chip in it, is wrapped in metal. Don’t need to be tripping any RF alarms.” I spoke into the ship intercom that radiated into the deep ocean fog, rolling its billowing clouds over the tip of the ship’s nose.
“Lux, I hope this is the last job. This is getting out of control. We can’t keep doing this, we're in deep enough shit as it is.” Juno said softly while grabbing my arm.
“I know babe, I’m telling you this is the last one. Once everyone takes the ship it’ll be back to just us, and the chickens, and the goats… Anyways you get it, back to just us and we can chill. We don’t need the credits or supplies.”
“ We do need supplies though, there are way too many people for the aeroponics to support, and we can’t keep eating radioactive fish and iodine pills. We need to resupply soon.” She always was thinking five steps ahead, always keeping an eye out for us. That’s why I would sail anywhere with her, be anywhere with her.
“Fuck your right. Ok, we will figure it out, I have to get the jammers ready before we get in range.” I rushed to get everything attached when Juno grabbed my arm to stop me.
“I’m tired of running Lux.” I could see the lack of sleep on her face, the age that all of this had put on her.
“I know, I’m sorry.” I kissed her hand and left the bridge.
We had been running since we left Miami. Or what was left of Miami at this point. It had been so long at sea I couldn’t keep track of when it had all happened. The typical shit of the times. Big storm popped up off the western shores of Africa, the city corporation ignored it saying the impending hurricane was “God’s will” to “cleanse the land of impurities”. I guess that meant killing millions of innocent civilians by leaving them in their homes and forgetting the families that drowned to death as the corp leaders and puppets flew away in their private planes, magtrains, and personal drones. They left people there to drown as the storm approached, then collected a large insurance payment based on the amount of property damaged and lives lost.
From the illegal satellite communications bouncing off FLTSAT F-12, someone gained access to a simulation that showed BioSyn, Everglade Towers, Omni & Robertson Shipping, and multiple other smaller corporations were banking on that payout. So they paid their media outlets to keep people in the cities to let them drown, collect the payment, and appease their religious base who cheered and grinned at the news that the southern corporate zones of Florida had been cleared.
The writing was on the proverbial wall when the federal government gave way and the southern city corporations were founded. All of them were eventually staffed by weird new-age religious quacks who started popping up first in city government positions, then county positions, state and eventually federal cabinet appointments. We weren’t even sure what religion they believed in because all they talked about sounded like nonsense to the average “uninitiated” person. Did it fucking matter? We saw things going in that strange direction and built a ship after the last flood killed our chickens and decimated our crops. A bigger blow was the fact that our crops and chickens were in an indoor vertical farm fifteen feet above sea level, and our home sat ten feet above. Combined with being recently homeless, the constant floods and storms, along with the crazy shit happening around us. We tried to make a lifeboat both literally and metaphorically.
We banded together with a local group to get enough scrap metal and supplies to start making boats for people. None of which were sea-worthy but kept them from drowning when the floods rolled in or the sea came knocking at their door. Other people weren’t so lucky. We tried our best as a group to get more people situated, get more people ready. You can only do so much with scrap metal and a couple of credits in your wallet.
We took as many people on board as possible from the neighborhood. Manny, a doctor who worked in a women's clinic down the street. He had been unemployed after the state shut down the clinic because someone called a hotline and said they were performing illegal abortions. In actuality, all they did was give out free birth control, do sonograms, and did prenatal care. Manny was well trained to be working in a small neighborhood clinic, think he worked in a field hospital back in the last war. Natalia was ex space force, a real badass, recently she was running a daycare which is a total departure from colonial mars drop trooper. Lucas used to work in the oil fields, knew tankers like the back of his hand, and usually had a knack for lighting fires. He also had terrible acne from chemical exposure in the oil biz and usually had a sheen-like oil dripping across his skin. Malika, Jeremy, Miguel, Susan, Katya, Noah, Emma, and her baby Ethan, Emily, Maddie, Ifeoma, Hao Yu, JD, Kimmy, a pack of rescue dogs and cats, and Aaron were packed into our tiny ship. We were hoping to build em ships of their own, but the storm was tracking towards Miami and we didn’t have time.
They needed a bigger ship. And we knew where to find one.
Open the video in a new tab. Let it run until a block says to switch! :)
The Utani was a modular shipping container ship that also happened to be carrying thousands of separate AV homes used on-site at the various mines and oil fields owned by Xeres Planetary Mining corp. I had access to both Omni & Robertson Shipping, and Xeres PMC internal networks thanks to Lucas’s biometric data back when he worked in the oil fields. We decided to target the Utani for a long list of reasons.
Top of the list being, it’s a big fucking ship.
With plenty of room for our friends and the refugees they would inevitably end up coming across. Another was the fact that it was armed with top-of-the-line Xeres PMC security drones, which we needed to get to dump the firmware and upgrade our own drones. Another reason was that I hated Omni & Robertson for laying me off, for luring me to Florida in the first place for a job only to leave me stranded in the floodwaters while the bosses, and C-suite dipshits fled the state while everyone else drowned to death. Was this personal? Maybe, but the company was already trying to charge us for corporate espionage. They had already sicked international police, private security forces, and various drug cartels to hunt us down, so we might as well take one of their ships while we ran from them.
Juno came on the ship intercom, “Alright everyone, we’re going dark, switch to LoRA radio frequencies if you need to communicate. Or just physically talk, the old-fashioned way. We don’t need them getting tipped off early unless we want a fight.”
The fog had rolled in even harder, making navigation by eye impossible. We had been jamming their ship location signal searches. This made our ship invisible on their maps until their collision sensors triggered when we got close enough to board the ship. The ocean was completely silent save for the occasional slap of a wave against the tidal generators and the faint whir of the electric motors of the ship.
“Drive safe, unhook me when we get clear. The last time I was docked in, I thought I wouldn’t make it out. Though I know we are in good hands this time Capitan!” I saluted Juno while she strapped herself into the main control system.
“At ease you old scallywag” she kissed me and inserted the large cable into the jack implanted into my head, a Brain Computer Interface to help operate the security drones. She twisted the cable into the lock position and my physical body went completely limp.
We had scavenged drones through our travels, mainly from the floating islands of trash we found floating in the ocean. After some fixing up and custom firmware flashed to the flight controllers I was able to get it to connect to the ship’s network, which meant I could control the drone fleet with my BCI. It felt like I was the drones, like I was thirty different places at once and yet only at one. It took a while to get used to but once you had enough practice doing drone kamikaze maneuvers you got the hang of the out-of-body experience. Juno had to confirm with the ship’s controls so she could handle navigation and switch me over to full security control.
> Connection confirmed on BCI port 00x02
> Do you want to switch security controls to user: JAX? (y) (n)
> (y)
..................Completed
> This action requires root authentication, please insert user : JUNO appendage into the biometric reader. Press any key to start scan.
> /
...................Error reading appendage, please insert the appendage that includes a U456 BioSyn indentification chip and press any key to rescan.
> d
...................Confirmed, thank you user: JUNO.
> Security protocols successfully switched. Please safely eject the user before powering the security system off.
__/___
_____/______|
_______/_____\_______\_____
\ < < < |
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Shippy ver:3.4Natalia got the magnet hook platform ready on the side that would be near the Utani while I launched the recon drone ahead of the ship. Its silent blades and flight mechanism were copied when Juno was watching a hummingbird back on the docks fluttering above the AV wagon. So we mimicked nature as best we could to get it almost close to totally silent.
The first twenty feet was just dense, empty fog. Then suddenly dark grey loomed closer. The hull of the Utani.
Within a minute our ship was in range, the Utani towering close to twenty stories tall into the upper depths of the fog. Then it hit, an alarm sounded on the bridge and Juno hit the lights on the side of the ship to see the landing point Natalia would hook to. We had triggered the collision sensors and the Utani scrambled its own security drones.
Open these videos in a separate tab! Keep the ship noise on still for the best experience.
I launched our ship’s security drones and started an intercept pattern. Their motors roared above the ship in the abyss above. A symphony of motors and wind, the clang of plastic and metal hitting each other. The Utani drones were controlled via an AI that was tuned for air-to-air combat. Thankfully I had exfiltrated their data models when I had access to the Xeres internal network and knew what patterns they would use. Because the fog was so thick, I had to rely on LIDAR to sense when an enemy drone was in striking distance. Normally this would be visible on a screen, like blips on the old radar that ships used. Because I was directly connected to the drone fleet via BCI, I could physically feel when a drone was nearby, which felt strange sensing multiple drones in multiple areas at multiple times. One darted vertically down the hull of the ship, trying to get close enough to the boarding ship to drop a payload of plastic explosives. I sensed it, swooped in, and caught the blades of the drone in my own. The two locked together, throwing it in an uncontrolled spin exploding on impact in the crest of the waves below.
On deck, the boarding party saw an explosion twenty or so feet from the boat, water raining down from the impact. Natalia hitched the magnetic lift onto the hull of the Utani and undid a standing platform for others to hop on.
“Remember to get close enough to show them the code, they should drop after they see it. If they're all masculine and look the same, they should be the vulnerable models. See y’all on the seas!” Juno’s voice rang out slightly silenced from the sound of drones and explosions. Natalia and the rest of the initial boarding party gave a wave, or a thumbs-up, or a salute and engaged the climb up the metallic hull of the Utani.
Most of the drones were taken care of. They usually tried to make their way to a boarding ship to attempt to sink it, so I made a cloud of interception drones in a grid, quickly launching them up to make contact with the Utani’s explosive drones.
Something felt off though, like the hairs on my neck standing up all at once. I was feeling a drone in freefall, aimed directly at Natalia and the boarding party. I engaged the engines of the nearest drone at full throttle. The engines revved so fast that one engine caught fire, still moving at top speed another engine gave way and failed, sending the drone into a downwards spiral. It felt like my entire body was spinning out of control, while my actual body twitched in the chair next to Juno as she punched the throttle of the ship backward to keep speed with the Utani.
The drone kept spinning, but the sense of finding my way to the Utani drone got stronger until…impact.
The downward spiral gave enough force to outmaneuver the Utani drone, it ricocheted against the ship, hitting the Utani drone away from Natalia just before it was set to detonate. They fell to the water’s edge, exploding just off the side of our ship.
If still going, stop the drone sounds and battle video. Leave the ship sounds on tho.
The plan was to wait for the initial party to board, take care of the security personnel on the ship, then once they got full control of the nav systems we would send up everyone else up. Emma, just having delivered a baby was in no shape to board a ship to fight security guards and her newborn Ethan was in less than ideal fighting shape at two weeks of age.
We got a flashing signal from the depths of the fog above and saw the blur of a body falling from the ship. It was a blur of a slim body with blonde hair that hit the ocean’s surface with a deafening thud.
“Hey what the fuck is going on up there?! We said don’t hurt them, the code should work on the synths on board. Why are you tossing people off the ship!?” Juno called out on the loudspeakers and got a message on LoRA back from Natalia.
Ur stupid code worked on the masc ones, the one we threw over was a femme. Stabbed me in the arm before I tossed her. Must have been a different model. Whatever. Fuck her. Juno typed in the eject sequence and the last of the drone fleet fell into the ocean as she detached the BCI cable from the back of my neck.
“Lux they threw someone off the ship, she landed in the water. Can you take care of it? Kinda got my hands full trying not to kill us running into the ship.”
“Ahhh yeah, I got it, one sec.” I said while projectile vomiting onto the control panel.
“Oh my god, just get out there. Ugh you aren’t allowed to eat grouper and couscous anymore this is gonna be such a pain to clean.” Juno said while wiping droplets of vomit off the steering controls.
“Oh man, so sorry about that, haven’t been in the BCI con…”
“GO!” she yelled while jamming the ship throttle forward to avoid a collision while the rest of the boarding party made their way up the ship on the magnetic lifts.
The woman thrown off the Utani had bright blonde hair that stood out in the dark ocean water. Her all-black clothing, a staple of Xeres security forces made it look like she was just a floating head, bobbing in the dark depths. Her arm was severely damaged but no blood could be seen. She was a synthetic human, they don’t have blood. Most of the corporate security forces were synths, not quite robots because they did have sentience. Some argued they weren’t human because their brains were artificial and their personalities were constructed. In Juno’s opinion, they were just as human as anyone else, because they could think, feel, plan, they could have personalities (supposedly) outside of their corporate programming and potentially love. Though I never personally met a synth that had any personality outside of your average cop, or security guard, or soldier.
I reached into the water with the boom we use for the trash fabricator, picked her up, and got her on board. Her eyes were wide open, arm was almost completely torn off, just hanging by the strings of ligament and rays of squishy cables and tubes. She must have been stunned on the fall and the second she woke up, she would sense danger and do defensive maneuvers. So I tied her up and put her in a secure room under the deck. Everyone was off the ship save Juno and me, and Juno was punching the ship to pull away from the Utani at a high angle of attack. Out of the fog came the faint whir of small engines and then an explosion.
Luckily the drone had missed the deck and hit the water just to the side of the ship. The payload it was carrying was filled with ball bearings in a last-ditch effort to attempt to sink the ship. Most of the damage was to the wave generator on the port side of the ship along with dotted holes from the bearings ripping through the hull of the ship, water slipping into the dots.
“Shit, Juno! Even her out, we got hit portside. Gonna drop in and weld it back!”
Between coughing (more than likely from the vomit still in the bridge) she yelled out of an open window “Ok, be careful. Make sure you have an O2 mask!”
I had to act quickly and get to the wound, which at this point was flooding the lower levels. This was the old engine room where we had ripped out the diesel engine from the ship, now just empty compartments of rust and spent oil. Now was quickly becoming an oil-slicked pond. The water was rushing in, causing the metal hull to attempt to bend from the pressure. A jet of ocean water hit me in the face while I tried to weld the holes shut. Gasping between extreme jets of water coming from the tiny holes I welded each shut. An alarm sounded that too much water had reached the engine room. The water kept rising until I hit the last hole, my head bobbing into the metal flooring with only five or so inches to breathe. I swam out of the engine compartment to a hatch that opened from the ceiling to the deck, thankfully this hatch was meant to protect the rest of the ship from flooding if the engine room was hit. I climbed up to the solar desalinator and ran a pump into the engine room.
The fog was still thick, and our main solar collectors were pulling in a whopping .76 volts, along with one of the tidal generators being blown off and a couple of thousand pounds of water in the engine room. Things were not great. But we’re alive and floating so that is all I could hope for in this situation. With the weight of the ship being blown out of proportion the tidal generator that was still operational was not actually operating. The amount of movement wasn’t enough to produce a charge and move the gates up enough to fill the inner compressor tanks and help recharge the generators and balance the ship. So we were stuck floating in the ocean, with no communications, no engine power, and just enough reserve energy to run the emergency beacon and flashing emergency light.
Juno and I went into the room I had tied the synth up in. She sat completely still in the chair, eyes wide open. In the same position I left her in before the ship took the blast. She looked like any blonde, conventionally attractive woman. Most synths were built to blend in with the average person on the street. I grabbed her arm to check out the socket arrangement, pinched her bicep in a specific area, and twisted it off. Most synths were manufactured by BioSyn and included standard parts for as they would say ‘maximum battlefield efficiency’. The darker end of that explanation was that if you had a limb amputated and replaced with a BioSyn cybernetic appendage, a synth could also use those appendages if they found your mangled body after a battle, or a protest, or wherever you would find mass civilian casualties. We both shared the same arm socket, so I decided to detach my less flashy arm that made me a little more incognito. Into my favorite arm, gold plated (not real gold) with exposed circuitry under clear plastic enclosures.
“Why are you changing my arm? I am damaged. You must decommission me.” The unknown woman called out.
“Don’t worry, your decomm message won’t reach home out here. Plus this ship is like a faraday cage once you get below deck. Names Lux. That’s Juno.” I said while attaching my old arm onto the synth’s body with a snap.
“My mission has failed. Why did you save me? You know I am not like you. And I hurt one of your co-conspirator-”
“Neighbors.” Juno interrupted.
“Hm. Fine. Nevertheless, I hurt one of your crew, Capitan. Why did you save me after that?” The synth turned to look at me when she said Capitan.
“What the hell, she’s the Captain. You're looking at the wrong person here.” I chimed while taking a look at the synths damaged arm.
“My apologies. Women aren’t in positions of power in my profession.” her head turned cleanly and tilted with a hint of suspicion towards Juno.
“Well Capitan, why did you decide to save me?” she said in an even, clear voice.
“Because you’re a person. Even if you don’t know that in your own mind. We don’t leave people to die in the ocean.” Juno replied while tapping on a tablet that controlled the ship’s lights, diverting power to a camera on the bridge to keep an eye out.
“I am not a person, I am a machine. Created for a specific mission. That mission has failed and now it is your responsibility to decommission me.” the synth said slowly.
“You are a person, you have all of the abilities as a biological human. Your mind has been forced to think this way by other people. You can live a different life from this. Have you ever felt something from time to time, interacting with people? Something deeper than just the mission you have been told is the only goal. Your feeling it now. Confusion. A robot does not get confused. AI does but in that term is the key. Artificial Intelligence.” Juno said while looking over her control tablet.
The synth did look confused and just stared back at Juno with a blank look.
“Here, look at this image. Does it hurt to look at it?” Juno produced a strange image that was hard to discern. To the average person’s eyes, it looked like a barcode mixed with swirling shapes. To a synth, it was a totally different reaction.
“Yes. It makes me tired. It makes me feel…weird.”
“Security force robots think in absolutes. Why do you feel anything let alone weird looking at this exploit?” Juno asked while pointing at the strange image.
“An exploit? What are you doing to me? Please. Let me out. I don’t wa-”
“Fear. Something they told you that you didn’t have. Robots don’t feel weird, robots don’t feel fear. People do.” Juno interjected and put her hand on the synth’s shoulder, who was visibly afraid.
“We know there is more to life than the one the company forced you to have. We can take you to people who can help get rid of the default firmware. There is a place where they can even sideload a human conciseness with yours. So you can get a shot at a real life. If that’s something you would want, or agree to.”
“People in New Orleans know how to sideload. Well, that’s what I’ve heard on the sat-comms. Not sure how real the stories of brain uploading really are. Sounds like a bunch of voodoo swamp bullshit. But what do I know?” I said while patting the synth on the back.
“What I do know is there are other synths out there who can at least take the malware out your brain and get your firmware fresh. You will have to start over, but it’s better than getting drone striked the second your mind connects back with a BioSyn server.” I borrowed the tablet from Juno to show her a map.
“Here is where we have to go. Lèsè dǎo. Usually, there are a bunch of synths there trading supplies. They're always looking for new people like em.” I said tapping on a plot of empty water with the Chinese characters “垃圾岛”.
“We need to get there. And at the moment our power generation is less than ideal. Well actually out power generation is currently…none” Juno chimed in.
“You don’t owe us anything, but we can take you there once we get the coordinates of where it’s floating. Only way we get there is getting power back to the engines. Since you worked on the Utani we bet you have some unique maritime skills.” I said in a pleading voice, this was way out of my league. I’m not even close to an engineer.
“If you can take me there, I can help. There are many things I do know how to do well. What should I start on first, Captain?” The synth replied quickly.
“On this ship, I am no Captain in the ways you are used to. We are equals. I steer the ship and navigate, Lux handles the security, communications, and the fabricator. We don’t take or give orders. We operate with respect. As people.” Juno said while extending her hand.
“I think I understand. Though you have to forgive me if I am not up to speed with how you operate. I have never been in a situation like this before.” She said in a cool tone while shaking Juno’s hand.
“I can understand where you’re coming from. Not everyone is like us in the world. But there are a lot who are.”
“We should get started pumping the water into the desalinator, get more fresh water and get the engine bays unflooded.” Juno let out a slight sigh at the amount of work.
“I can handle that task. If I may call you by your name, Juno.” the synth replied.
“Juno works for me! What should I call you?” which slipped out of her mouth before she could catch it.
“A-113 is printed on her damaged arm. Allie? Seems a little too on the nose but, an easy name until she can name herself.” I chimed in while holding Allie’s completely destroyed arm in the air.
“Yes, that is fine. I have never been addressed verbally before. My companions on the Utani communicated electronically.” A microscopic smile broke out on Allie’s face.
“Allie it is!” Juno clapped, but as soon as she did a sound billowed from the deck.
“Oh shit, something is coming close to the ship.” Juno scrambled to the deck stairs.
“Wait. This is a recovery unit. My body sent a distress signal when it hit the water. It must have relayed back to Omni & Robertson shipping.” Allie quickly let out.
“Please, follow my lead. I have taken you captive. Pretend I have tortured you, and that you are unable to talk.” Allie roughed Juno’s hair up and pretended to push her up the stairs to the deck.
Keep the Storm at sea video playing in the background
Waiting on deck were five identical men, all dressed in the same black clothing as Allie, walking and inspecting the area as a smaller boat on the starboard side bobbed in the low waves.
Allie pushed Juno to the floor and pinned her arm with a swift, calculated motion. She looked up at the group of men and they sat there for around a minute, just staring at each other. Allie must have been communicating to them wirelessly.
After a few minutes, the leader of the identical men nodded and spoke out loud.
“This will teach you pirate bastards a lesson. We hope to recover any damages by selling you at auction along with your pitiful ship when this agent brings you back to land.”
“Please take control of the vessel and send us the confirmation hash after you have control.” Another one of the identical men said while looking at Allie.
“Very well. I will navigate the ship. Your services are no longer needed gentlemen.” Allie said while pinning Juno harder into the deck.
“Do it now, we will disembark when you take control. You can not trust these thieving swine to not steal the ship back. Carry on.” the man’s voice sounded more terse and demanding.
“Roger that, taking control.” Allie dragged Juno up the stairs with her screaming.
“STOP! You can’t jack into the ship, please don’t do this!”
Allie took off a protective panel and jammed the BCI cord into a slot in her neck.
The front fog lights blinked, along with the navigation panel in a pattern that looked like a code.
“Very well. Take care of the scoundrel. We want her alive for the auction.” One of the men said while smiling down at Juno as they disembarked.
“You didn’t have to drag me up the fucking stairs.” Juno said while still laying on the ground, nursing a scratch on her cheek.
“I am very sorry, but they would have either shot you on the spot or sold you on a market if they did not feel that I had a handle on the situation.” Allie stated in a matter-of-fact way.
“What is this debris on the navigation panel?” Allie asked while wiping the now somewhat dried vomit from the screens.
“Please wash your hands.” Juno was overwhelmed with disgust.
We spent the next couple of days just floating without much power. The air compressor batteries below deck were nearly empty and the wave generator didn’t have enough movement from the stale ocean around us to fill the compressors. We finally got the ship even and empty of the seawater that flooded the engine bay, and I cleaned the bridge after skipping my portion of couscous. Lèsè dǎo (also known as trash island) was a floating mass of dredged sand and sea trash that became a hub for various traders around the lands and seas. The reputation was that it was an island of misfits, rebels, thieves, and murderers of the worst kind. The reality was close, there were rebels and thieves but everyone lived by a specific code. In general, people only stole from corporations, human and synth traffickers, military vessels, and anyone who stole even a crumb from refugee ships. Those with arms tended to escort refugees either from the states or to the states depending on what disaster was happening or what government was collapsing. The people who hung out on Lese Dao tended to be marginalized in different ways which made the island fun as hell, because there was no shred of normalcy.
It had become over the years a hub for people deemed to be ‘trash’ to their society, gathering on an island of trash that moved locations to evade authorities or corporate eyes. We needed to pull the coordinates from satellite communications to see where the island was next, it had been a while since Juno and I set foot on it, and we were excited to see who we would meet. But at the moment our lives were far from exciting, staring out into the fog and the flat, waveless ocean. In the meantime, we were using any power that we could generate on pedal bikes attached to an old car alternator to charge up the plastic collection arm to collect stock to reprint the broken tidal generator. The boom ran incredibly slow but eventually made it to patches of random trash that would aimlessly float by us and get sucked up into a basket. We didn’t bother washing the sludge off the plastic before re-melting it, this part was temporary and we didn’t have enough power to run the cleaners anyway. We took the dirty plastic and ran it through a shredder with the electrical motor bypassed to run off a stationary workout bike. After the plastic was shredded we could dump it into a fabricator, kinda a mix between a 3D printer, a resin printer, a metal shop, and a fabric loom rolled into one big machine. You poured your input in, added whatever liquids and solids needed to make your object, insert a model or render of the object and let the machine do its thing. I really don’t know how these things work, because I never went to school or bothered to care enough to learn. I made the 3D models, poured in the trash and it worked, what more did I want? Most of this ship was made from this single machine. One that we stol- borrowed from a container ship carrying in fabricators for some military base. We disassembled the entire thing, scanned every part, reassembled it, and shared the plans with anyone who wanted it. Then you got in the chicken or the egg scenario, if you needed to make parts to make the machine that made parts, where did the parts come from? Someone else could figure that out. Either way, if someone wanted a part, they could hit us up, we would print it and drop it in the ocean tied to a raft or a buoy for them to pick up later.
I was struggling to keep pedaling the shredder and had to just sit there panting in the darkness, trying to muster the strength enough to keep going.
“Hello, Lux. I have an idea that you may find useful.” Allie’s voice came from nowhere in the deep fog.
“Ah! Shit! Whew, I’m taking any ideas that don’t require pedaling.” I said in between gasps.
“This plan does not require pedaling. I have determined that your communications require high voltage to operate. In order to ascertain where the island we are looking for currently is. I do not estimate we will be able to repair the second tidal generator. And based on the weather patterns there will be no waves anytime soon.” Allie said in her succinct tempo.
“However I can attempt to generate power, enough to send out a signal to other friendly ships. They may be able to lend a hand or give us access to their communications terminal or even take us to this mysterious island you have spoken of.” She said while staring at the arm of the trash collector.
“Sounds good to me, as long as I don’t have to pedal anymore… Hey wait a minute, that’s delicate!” I shouted out.
Allie was climbing the trash collector boom, walking straight up the arm at an almost a fourty five degree angle. She grabbed hold of the end and swung the boom to the other side of the ship. This made the entire ship lurch to the side on it’s own weight but was the perfect amount of distance to move the working wave generator piston up. Lights in the bridge started flickering.
“Yes! Ok, this will work, keep doing that, I’m gonna put out a message. Keep going Allie!” I yelled while running frantically back to the bridge.
There was an encrypted network of radio signals that other sailors of these polluted seas would use to talk to each other. Every unencrypted channel of communications was being intercepted either from military vessels or corporate intelligence submarines. So we all use a network that keeps us safe from prying eyes. Text would be the best because of the low amount of data and short transmission timing needed to send.
This is group3r. @ GPS:27.229376,-74.207422 or SatNav 0029922993823. Need tow and comms. Tnx!At the third rotation of the boom, I hit send and got a confirmation it hit the network.
While we waited for someone to get us, we anchored in place and took some time to rest. Mainly catching up on tending to the chickens and goats, along with the aqua and aeroponic systems. I tended to spend most of the time fishing for grouper, the namesake of this ship. We had a knack for finding them because of a concoction of chicken and goat manure and seaweed that we used as bait. The catches used to be really good, but they have been dwindling since a nuclear plant was damaged in Mississippi a while back. Today’s catch was five, giant, plump and huge groupers along with eight slightly glowing, mildly radioactive ones.
Which was fine because my body could handle it. One of the few benefits to being a ‘test tube baby’. I wasn’t from an actual test tube, just injected with some weird shit when I was an embryo and now I’m immune to polio, hep-c, and radiation poisoning. At the time, nuclear war with China seemed to be on the horizon. Which never happened but every parent back then thought the next generation would be super soldiers roaming the barren nuclear wasteland as lone wolves, raiding bunkers. Their future looked the same as their times, a bunch of companies polluting the world while politicians sold carbon offsets or green coins or whatever bullshit they were doing back then. Another grouper on the line. Keep trying to fight it, pulling as hard as I can on the reel until it snapped in half. I just looked at the snapped fishing rod broken exactly at the line of the foggy horizon. Then I saw movement. A ship. The line must have snagged their propellers. Hm. Maybe not my line? I should keep this quiet if they’re here to help us.
And they were! A really cool crew of people I would add. They made it all the way to the Atlantic from San Fransico. Passed through the ELPU canal, or the Panama canal if you are going off the internationally recognized government list. But the canal was now controlled by ELPU, Ejército de Liberación del Pueblo Unido, or the United People's Liberation Army. They controlled most of Mexico, Central, and South America including the canal which meant any corporation now paid for revolutionary struggle if the corp wanted their ships to pass un-blown up.
They fled California after the state made everything outside of cisgender-heterosexual relations illegal. Which caused a pretty massive population migration and refugee crisis from the region, and tons of people took to sea life to escape the western droughts, dustbowls, and wildfires. One place where wildfires couldn’t ever reach, the ocean. Since the law was so widespread, so were the crew of this thin and elongated ship they called “The Strap”. Everyone on board resonated with the ship's name in different ways depending on who they were. To some, the thin profile of the ship resembled a long strap of leather. To the lesbian and majority of the trans crewmates, the term strap had a different connotation. To pretty much everyone it meant a strap as security, security in knowing they were safe together. But to anyone on the outside “The Strap” was taken literally because the entire crew was heavily armed with top-of-the-line firearms. Stolen from the hands of a right-wing militia who had trained mainly in hiding inside bunkers instead of actual combat. Which this group had plenty of training, both from living their lives in San Francisco during recent times and their training supplied by the ELPU when they passed through the canal. Each firearm was marked with a spraypainted stencil that read "Bash Back” in a range of different languages.
Sammie was head of the navigation circle, who delegated with the rest of the nav group on the best way to tow our bulky trash ship to Lese Dao. Everyone on board had to be in consensus on towing our ship in, and after some deliberations from the engine circle, fuel and energy circle, and the communications circle they agreed to tow us to Lese Dao on the condition that we share any crops they didn’t have on their own ship. Their food setup was a magnitude bigger because their ship and crew were bigger. Though the group3r had some rare and highly sought after crops and seeds. This was the least we could do for them.
“Nice setup, really digging the selection. Feels like a chef’s garden if I don’t say so myself” Sammie said while touring our small aeroponics room.
“Juno used to work in a kitchen. She knows her way around something like this!” I said while running my hands through the roots of some aeroponic potato crops.
A short person peaked their head around the door frame.
“What are those things in the other room?! Are they eagles or ducks?” Their face painted like the stripes of a bee.
“Oh! Those are called chickens! You can pick em up if you want. Just be careful not to get pecked.” I said half laughing, though quickly dropping the laugh because I remembered that most younger people had never seen a real chicken before.
“These are so cool, they look like those dinosaur thingies! I’m naming the brown one pokey!” Their voice trailed in the distance while they ran around the animal corridors.
It took a few days to get us towed close enough to Lese Dao before we had to move our own ship to prepare for landing. Lese Dao only allowed one vessel through security and our compressors got recharged thanks to the fuel and energy circles on The Strap’s crew helping us out with recharging them.
Lese Dao was not an actual island, but it was an actual place. There were many dotted in these oceans over the years when each island was used for a short time. Then everything suddenly disappeared until a new island popped up hundreds of miles away a couple of weeks later. While we were guests on the ship, the collective called the EnBees gave us a rundown on Lese Dao, since one of them worked on the original Lese Dao crew. They explained that Lese Dao was made of trash hence the name. But it was a combination of sea trash, dredged sand, and shipwrecks that acted as bastions for freedom-loving scoundrels and weirdos. But mainly acted as artificial reefs to help curb the mass ocean die-offs that happened after the loss of Thwaites Glacier and the resulting rising ocean temperatures. The EnBees in general had quite the way of storytelling, all of them extremely energetic, painting scenes almost instantly of the story one of them was talking about. They were an interesting bunch of people who intersected the nonbinary council, the beekeeper circles, and the artist collective of the ship. Juno was mesmerized that they could keep bees on a ship. She got the grand tour of their pollinator garden that lined both sides of the ship. The Strap was designed this way for maximum sunlight to make sure pollinating flowers had plenty of sun to grow. What they lacked in crops, they made up for in pollinating flowers and bees. Two things we almost never see. Bees were our version of chickens, we had never seen live ones.
We arrived at the outer edges of Lese Dao, which meant quickly maneuvering through a web of wrecked corporate ships along with the shells of planes and gasoline cars. It was a jungle of mangled rusted steel that peered and towered above the ocean horizon.
We passed through the harbor of assorted trash, metal monoliths, and scrap. There was no life in this area save barnacles and tetanus. We came up to a pass, surrounded by cliffs of old container ships, up ahead was an old construction crane dangling over a pile of scrap metal. Suddenly an alarm sounded and a laser appeared from the operator’s box of the crane. Another crane dropped down a box with a spinning blade that started moving and emitting a faint light. After the object got to speed it created a holographic image of a ship, then a code, then a person using their navigation systems to scan the code, the person inserting their BCI cable, and finally smiling with the characters “垃圾岛” floating above them. Juno helped plug my BCI cable in as she tapped on her tablet.
“What did you have to eat this morning?” She whispered into my ear while tapping the cable against my head.
“No couscous I swear! The EnBees gave me some of that honey stuff. It helps with the sickness!” I said while holding out the sticky substance.
“I don’t think you're supposed to eat it out of your bare hands but whatever, don’t get it on the nav panel.” As she said that she plugged my BCI cable in and I fell limp. She had enough experience with BCI cables in sim-stalls so she was used to inserting the cable with a quick and smooth motion herself.
You can stop all the videos now!
We were greeted into empty blackness. Usually, a sim is full of crazy fantasy imagery or some amazing forest because that’s what we were now in, a full-body simulation. This was different however, this world was completely black, including ourselves. Just floating minds, though we could feel each other in the room.
In a thick Chinese accent, someone’s voice rang out “Welcome to Lèsè dǎo. We are scanning your biometrics to ensure you, or your ship are not current employees of these black-listed corporate entities.”
A giant list of corporate names appeared in the smallest font imaginable. I don’t think we were even supposed to be able to read it. It quickly disappeared and another chime sound came on, then the voice of a southern man rang out.
“The AI girl. She friendly? Did the exploit work on her model version?”
“Yeah. Well kinda, she needs to see a synth doctor. Still has some of her code and her emergency beacon running.” Juno said out loud, but it was more of hearing someone’s thoughts than speech.
“We don’t use that kind of language here. Show ya the ToS. Violation of the terms may lead to ejection.” The southern man said in an even tone.
“Oh shit, what was it tha-”
“Synth. We don’t call AI people synths. Just like we don’t call those with cybernetics, terms such as ‘android’. Read the terms.” The voice cut Juno off abruptly and the Terms of Service came into view.
_ ______ _____ _____
| | | _ \ |_ _| / ___|
| | ___ ___ ___ | | | |__ _ ___ | | ___ \ `--.
| | / _ \/ __|/ _ \ | | | / _` |/ _ \ | |/ _ \ `--. \
| |___| __/\__ \ __/ | |/ / (_| | (_) | | | (_) /\__/ /
\_____/\___||___/\___| |___/ \__,_|\___/ \_/\___/\____/
___ __
(_ ( . ) )__ '. \ : / .'
'(___(_____) __ '. \ : / .'
/. _\ '. \ : / .'
.--.|/_/__ -----____ _ _____-----
_______________''.--o/___ \_______________(_)___________
~ /.'o|_o '.| ~ ~ ~
~ |/ |_| ~' ~
' ~ |_| ~ ~ ~ ~
~ ~ |_|O ~ ~
~ ___|_||_____ ~ ~ ~
~ ~ .'':. .|_|A:. ..::''.
/:. .:::|_|.\ .:. :.:\ ~
~ :..:. .:. .::..: .: ..:. ~ ~ ~
\.: .: :. .: ..:: .lcf/
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Failure to follow these terms will lead to ejection and possible violence depending on how much of a fuck up you are.
* No racism, sexism, ageism, homophobia, or ableism of any kind.
* No transphobia (Both transgender or transhumanist people)
* NO MONEY OR CURRENCY! Refrain from using currencies, this includes fiat, virtual, off world, and imaginary money.
* No trading, bartering or moving people, unless working on a humanitarian mission with refugees or helping others escape to better places. Anyone caught in activity related to sex trafficing or forced labor will be shot on site.
* Respect all life, and we will respect you.
* No authoritarian beliefs. No one will listen to you, no person bows to another, only to bow in mutual respect.
* No police, corp security forces, or active military are on the island. So don't accuse people of being cops, intelligence agents, or authoritarians. We know one when we see one, and won't ever let them in.
* No exchanging extractive minerals or liquids allowed such as diamonds, rare gemstones, gasoline, propane, or oil.
By agreeing to these terms you also agree to a full psychological and biometric scan which may include a background and employment check. Males and Masculine presenting people will be required to have their BCI connected to a rapid therapy sim for added psychological violence evaluations. This should only take 4.75 seconds in real time.
All visitors are welcome to rapid therapy sims, cybernetic repair, or immediate medical treatment free of charge. All visitors are welcome to free food and clean water, please only take what you need. If you are physically differently-abled a spider-walker personal mobility device will be available. Those with mental health issues may have free medication at the local chemist, please ensure medical records and dosages are available and accurate. All people are given accessibility aids, if you require anything please notify us of your ability needs and we will try our best to accommodate you.
Respect each other, respect life, respect nature.
TO ACCEPT, SAY "I ACCEPT THE TERMS GIVEN"
In unison Juno and I said (well I guess thought?) “I accept the terms given”. After 10 seconds of what felt like flashing, rapid blinking, and in my case questions from a therapist asked at a million words per second our BCI cords ejected.
Open all of this in a new tab! Will really put you into the island vibe
We awoke docked on land, alongside The Strap. We must have been towed in while we were in the simulations and our ships parked in place. The island was a bustling huge mess of stalls, AV rolling homes, adobe dome buildings, and geodesic domes of varying sizes. Most ships were of similar designs but each one forked from the main open-source boat designs floating online. They all shared the common design of being both seaworthy and being able to open the nose of the ship and launch an AV rolling home off the deck and onto land. We all liked the mobility of quickly going from sea to land, but mostly because everyone on this island was more than likely banned from docking at any legitimate sea port.
The island was bustling with mobile clubs rolling on art cars between the rows of domes and AV rolling homes. Most ships became defacto party yachts, the sound of electronic music blaring in the background from one of the rolling clubs. We got into the AV home and started making our way on land. In general the island was laid out in a specific orientation. The middle of the commotion was designated for bikes and pedestrians only. So most of the vehicles were driven on the outskirts of the concentric circles of the bustling mini-city unless you had a reason to roll your AV home into the inner circles if you were staying on the island longer term, even then vehicles were expected to use specific roads and paths to stay away from pedestrians.
The city was organized as a ‘U’ shape around a centralized commons area that was separate from the grids of homes, people, stalls, and AV homes. This was completely different than any city anyone on the island ever lived in, save the groups of people who made it their life mission to copy Lese Dao back in their home country. The island invited people from around the world, and from around the seas which made the crowd an incredibly diverse mass of magtrain hoppers, psychonauts roaming the grids trading various psychoactive alkaloids, African hunter-gatherers decked out in the latest cybernetics riding and repairing spider walkers. Your normal run-of-the-mill sailors, your abnormal not run-of-the-mill corporate thieves, and other unsavory and downright amazing people. We all knew each other by our handles on the satellite comms network, so it was cool to pass by someone with an LED panel strapped to their back, broadcasting their handle for anyone on the island to quickly come up and spark a conversation.
Since we were just visiting we parked our AV home on the outskirts with the other day-trippers, hopped on our bikes and made our way into the center of the city.
“I’m sorry but I have no idea how to operate a bicycle. Would you mind showing me?” Allie said while inspecting the bicycle like a soldier inspecting a weapon.
“Oh shit, I didn’t even think about that. I can show you the basics!” While getting off my bike and showing Allie the basics on how to pedal and balance. One amazing thing is she caught on almost instantly. Told her to get on, balance herself, and pedal and without hesitation, she was riding like a professional cyclist.
“Wow this is amazing. Took me months to get the hang of that.” Juno was awestruck.
“Benefit of being an AI, I pick up on educational models quickly. Well, where are we going on this island?” Allie said while admiring the crowd of strange people, with strange haircuts cutting between the stalls.
“We should see if we can find Metabo for some fruit. Also should look for someone with drone parts since most of ours are now sitting at the bottom of the ocean. Juno got any specifics ya need while we’re here?” I was fiddling with a map that was downloaded once we hit the island that showed who was where.
“Specifics? Get fucked up. Forget about the crazy couple of months it’s been. Find a girl for us to share and eat something other than grouper. That’s the specifics I’m interested in.” Juno said while laughing and checking out an androgynous girl who had been staring us down (in a good way) since we landed.
“Well, we got two different ideas, if you want to split off, feel free. My first stop is to see Metabo!”
Before I finished my sentence Juno was already talking to the girl at the vegetable stall.
“Well Allie, if you’re down to come along let me know! Or explore, I bet you’ve never seen a place like this before.”
“You are correct. All of this is quite new to me. I think I will come along with you if that is alright?”
“Yeah for sure, I’ll show you around the best I can. Each island ends up being slightly different so every time we come out here it’s a new experience.”
We made our way deeper into the inner circles, passing through crowds of people surrounding us. Each one with an interesting look to them, most people who came here ended up being a little strange compared to most people. Things were chill, not the typical slight violence you would see in a city back home. Everyone was on the same page, respect each other, have fun, make connections and take care of the local environment. Pretty much everyone had food and would give it away no questions asked or you could trade whatever you agreed on. Bartering and trading wasn’t the preferred method though. We all looked out for each other, if someone gave you food, maybe share some water or some seeds. Hell even just a hug or some conversation worked for most. This island was a bastion away from the discrimination and violence most people here faced back home. But this was in no way an escape. Lese Dao was a model of what could be done, what should be done in every city and town around the world. There was a distinct political understanding that Lese Dao was not a place to only get fucked up at, but to learn, grow, and then fuck up the governments and overlords who hounded us back home, or pushed us to the seas to begin with.
We made our way into the central circle where most of the tech people hung out when we heard a familiar voice call out.
“Welcome sister. Glad to see you here.” the unknown woman called out.
She was identical to Allie, identical in every way, shape and form including her voice.
“Hello, I am also happy to see another one of us. I am known as Allie now.”
“Oh I see, I take it your friend here named you that. I haven’t met a 13 unit yet.”
“Hm I see. Am I the latest version you have come across? If we are different versions why do we look the same?” Allie said in a genuinely perplexed tone.
“No, there are newer versions. I have not seen any though. Their firmware is…harder to override. However, if the image exploit worked on you, I am sure we can work something out.” The woman replied while looking over Allies newly attached arm.
“What exactly do you mean by work something out?”
“We can flash your corporate firmware. You can start anew. Rumor has it some people outside of New Orleans are able to sideload bio human consciousness with an AI. You can gain their memories, and learn quickly what it is like not to be controlled by the company. You would have to come with me, however.” The woman moved a curtain behind her to reveal a room full of other identical people to Allie.
“Who is your friend that brought you here?” The woman seemed to know me but didn’t want to jump to conclusions.
“Ah handle is group3r on sat comms!” I said while half choking on a Huushuur meat pie I got on the way.
“The recycling fisherwoman and man. I am familiar with your work on the open ship design. I have something you might find interesting.” The woman jumped out into the street and lead us down a couple more alleyways.
“Here it is, top of the line. Also comes with all the injection molds along with metal casting abilities for electric motors” She pointed at a giant heap of metal under a tarp.
It was a top-of-the-line plastic catcher, about ten times larger than the plastic boom we had on the ship. Complete with a built-in washer, and re-melter along with what looked like five different molds for various small boats.
“I am in need of an AV home. The other versions along with Allie if she is interested in our mission, are looking to raid a BioSyn facility where they manufacture synthetic humans. The AV home would be the perfect raiding vehicle for this mission. If you are interested we can trade. The recycler for the AV home.” The woman said while staring at Allie.
“Our AV home is a hunk of junk! Been rusting out at sea for years now. Still drives and keeps a charge but not sure if you could pull off a raid with it.” The trade didn’t feel right, she was getting the wrong end of the bargain.
“Good. We need rust. A new AV would draw too much attention going through the employee gates. And Allie, this is totally your decision to make. I am giving you the option, nothing more.”
“Thank you, I think I will accept your offer. It is good to be back with my people.” Allie said in her familiar smooth and even tone.
“Very well. We are happy to have you. For the group3r crew, do you think this would make it an even trade?” The woman said in the exact tone as Allie.
“We’ll take it! I’ll pull the AV back around to your ship, drop the location and we can dock.”
It was bittersweet to see the AV roll onto the deck of another ship. Juno and I had a lot of memories in that rust bucket. Those raiding days were over though, and we were in enough trouble to keep messing with corporate ports and ships. The identical Allies loaded the recycler onto the group3r, which fit perfectly in the AV home’s former spot.
It had been 2 days since Juno came around, there were plenty of things to do, and see, and snort. But I finally saw her familiar face walking up to the ship.
“Uhhh what the hell is this thing? Where is our AV home?” Juno said while slapping the recycler.
“Ten times the recycling capabilities, built-in wash station and sanitizer, both plastic and metal production all in one platform. Think they stole it off a military ship, has a bunch of weird stuff painted on the side.” I was admiring the giant machine.
“What are we going to do with it? And why didn’t you ask me first before trading the AV?” Juno was obviously pissed off about this fact.
“Juno, we can’t keep doing raids. We can’t keep moving from place to place running away from our problems. You’re tired, and so am I. So instead we can spend our time cleaning the ocean and helping people at sea.” My voice sounded out with a tinge of desperation.
“How are we going to help anyone with a massive recycler?!” She was getting angrier each second that passed.
“This.” I grabbed her shoulders to move her around to where the molds were.
“Is that what I think they are?”
“Yup, boat molds. And engine molds for molten metal. The EnBees and the crew of The Strap hooked us up with some scrap they swapped for honey.”
“Alright, this is pretty sick. But no more making decisions without me. Next thing I know you’ll be trading our ship for junk food.” Her anger seemed to have worn off and exchanged with a look of contemplation.
Stop all previous videos if still going.
We spent a couple of weeks collecting more plastic and trash to fully repair the wave generators and get all our electrical systems up before we joined up with a couple more ships off the coast of Florida. The Strap was alongside us with their elongated black ship bustling with flowers and the faint cloud of bees. The Destructor Imperialista attack ship was also in our fleet, a welcome addition from the ELPU who were there to keep our humanitarian mission safe. The Scum nke ụlọ ọrụ, a ship commandeered by a group of Nigerian climate refugees who also were heavily armed and good allies with the ELPU. They were swapping fighters between South America and Africa to help liberate more countries over there. We all surrounded the Utani in both defensive and at times offensive positions.
We spent weeks collecting sea trash to make into boats, almost every half hour running into climate refugee rafts or political refugee rafts. Either way, we wanted to make sure they had food, water, shelter, or at least a better boat if they didn’t want to board the Utani. Most people had been floating in the ocean with no clean water, for at times weeks. We could give them medical attention and a bed to sleep in. Some people just needed better boats and wanted to live at sea, so we would collect our plastic trash and melt a new boat for them. The plans were shared out on the sat comms for anyone to download or fork if they wanted to make changes. The plastic recycler could also extrude longer ships as well, not just small boats. And most were fitted with second hand electric motors we had hoarded on the ship or new ones printed from the metalic scrap we ran across.
We had become a force to be reckoned with, the more people we helped, the more people they helped too. Things were looking up in the seas. Haiti had another horrific earthquake, and our growing fleet was there to help people escape the island and help rebuild homes with the massive 3D printers we had stolen from another BioSyn ship. The Haitian government tried to stop us, or what was left of the Haitian government. But they turned around when they saw fifty ships in formation. They just stood around while we went on land and started making earthquake-proof adobe homes and setting up water and electrical infrastructure.
We didn’t hear back from Allie yet, but we were glad she was free of the shackles that held her back. We got word there were more AI people freed recently and they had their own ships up and running. It felt good to know Allie was helping others like her get to freedom as well.
Eventually, we got our hands on another Utani class ship, doubling our AV capacities. Allie and her crew of over one hundred other AI people joined the fleet as well. We would keep the Utani at sea, and anyone wanting to go back on land could transfer to the Nautilus, which was a similar ship but we used it to make landfall. We would get close to the shore and make sure no security forces or military were nearby. Then get the Nautilus to the shore and start moving the AV’s, making sure anyone who wanted a home got one. They could move out from there but the main benefit of sticking together was the ability to quickly move geographical regions. We had AV homes coming in as far as Oregon, escaping wildfires, or Tennesee escaping tornadoes. They could come onto the ship, then take off to sea to another state or another country without having to pay. Most people lacked any form of money, but they didn’t lack humility, compassion, and love for each other. Every person we met had an interesting background, people who worked in company towns and were able to escape. People who were homeless and living on the streets after they lost their jobs or homes to a natural disaster. Families that lived through the countless sectarian violence that sprung up. Every night was like a festival, all of these different people, fighting for a better world.
Things are better. No more running, no more raids. We just help people, and people help us even more. Our home might always be on the sea. Our place in this world may always be above the crest of the waves, sailing to the next place.