User:Yayieali/Code Test

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Degasi Voice Log #1 - Habitation Location

“	<poem>MARGUERIT: It won't work, Chief. There's nothing left of the Degasi. No building materials on this island. And my nose tells me the weather's turning. We're gonna have to get our feet wet. PAUL: This island is safe. There are no predators. We can grow food. Why would we abandon it? MARGUERIT: Your kid says we can't grow enough. Not without more growbeds. Speak up, kid. BART: It's... it's true. The natural growth rates are too slow to support three of us indefinitely. Especially if the weather gets worse. MARGUERIT: All I'm sayin' is, ocean's got us surrounded. No use hiding. PAUL: I've made my decision. You two want to forfeit your commissions just to take a swim? MARGUERIT: Believe me, I'm thinkin' on it.</poem>	”

Degasi Voice Log #2 - Storm!

“	<poem>PAUL: Bart, I said no! Your life is worth more than your vegetable patch! I forbid you go out there in this storm. BART: I stopped needing your permission when the ship you were captaining sunk. PAUL: You will stop needing my permission the day I'm not your father! MARGUERIT: Say, Chief. Chief! PAUL: What? MARGUERIT: Do you know how to drain those grow beds out there of 40 tons of storm water? Or how to conjure food from the air? PAUL: Son, go deal with the plants. CPU: Bart Torgal is no longer aboard the habitat. PAUL: Interfere with my family again and when rescue arrives I will leave you here. You understand me? MARGUERIT: No rescue coming, Chief. Not in time. And no stayin' here, neither. This rain keeps falling, and sooner or later this place'll be buried. Only choice we've got is whether we get buried with it. PAUL: Stay away from my boy.</poem>	”

Degasi Voice Log #3 - Aftermath

“	<poem>MARGUERIT: You see, Chief? You brought us to this sodden planet. You told us we'd see a lush payday. Now what do we got, some 6 weeks later? Most of the crew dead. A pile of dirt in our front room. Rain coming in the through the windows. Food destroyed. PAAL: PAUL: I suppose you, with your extensive experience of hitting people in the face, you'd make a much better Captain. MARGUERIT: I know I'd start by not taking unscheduled detours by alien water worlds. That's something you never want to learn the hard way. PAUL: Let's hear it then. What's your plan? MARGUERIT: I have a site scouted out. It's a cave, couple hundred meters down. Lots of lithium deposits. Good for building. PAUL: How do you imagine we'd live? MARGUERIT: I figured two water filters would keep the three of us going, we could build a bioreactor to cover the power. Chief, we'll eat seaweed salad if that's what it takes. Or you got something better? PAUL: Send the coordinates to my PDA. I'll review your proposal.</poem>	”

Paul Torgal's Log #1 - Marooned

“	<poem>Captain's log, five weeks since our ship, the Degasi, was shot down. I give thanks that fate saw fit to spare my son, Bart, and I from death, but my personal entourage were not so destined. The only other survivor was Marguerit Maida, a cut-price mercenary with local expertise who I reluctantly commissioned for the journey. We spent days in the lifepods, rain beating on the roof, nothing but ocean on the horizon. Just as we were losing hope the weather cleared and we saw this island, this floating oasis. We were saved. We salvaged the Degasi wreck down to its barebones and built this habitat from the scrap. I set Bart to studying the alien plantlife and arranging us a stable source of food, put that expensive digi-training to good use. People can question digi-training and foreign technology all they like. Bart's bio-chem imprint already paid for itself. As I dictate this I'm eating hydroponically-grown potato salad garnished, with seeds that taste like spicy orange peel. Our only problem is Maida. I've caught her muttering that the island's too small to support us indefinitely. That the weather's going to turn on us. I say she's grown superstitious. Every judgement she makes assumes things go from bad to worse, that the only forward is a fight. She ought to take in some context. As a species we've spent millenia learning how to shackle nature to our will. This planet won't cause us any new problems. Our one task now is to stay alive, as comfortably as possible, until rescue arrives. In this part of space that could be months, or even years.</poem>	”

Bart Torgal's Log #3 - What's left?

“	<poem>I messed up. Badly this time. It's been two days since what happened. We never should have left this island. I shouldn't have listened to them. We shouldn't have gone so deep. We're not wanted down there. They don't trust us. I knew it and I didn't say. I could see it, and they couldn't, and now they're stuck down there, and I'm up here, alone. I deserve this.</poem>	”