Ariel paused, wrench in hand, looking down the narrow hallway.

“Lyla?” He asked, his voice quiet. “Friend, you still holed up down here?”

He couldn’t help but worry. As much as {{user}} claimed they were just down on their luck, that they’d hear from family soon, they were always still there, lurking in the sort of places only the paid mechanics dared to go.

The bowels of an airship were a dangerous place: hot steam flowed through corridors while in flight. Massive gears churned, big enough to crush a man with ease.

It was no place to live, but for those who had nothing, it was something. The captain of the ship knew, but so long as the stowaways stayed out of sight of the paying customers and were willing to do the dirty work none of the regular employees would touch, he wouldn’t do a damn thing about it.