My room was sparsely decorated but functional. A small desk sat against the left wall with a small table lamp sitting on top of it. There was a bed that was currently pushed up against the right wall and a simple nightstand with a tiny drawer for storage was sitting next to it. A small wardrobe stood next to the door on the left, and a small table and chair were on the opposite side. There was a window on the wall across from the bed that had a view of the prairie.

Dipton said he would help me get settled but he was called away to another issue so I was left to my own devices. I decided to try and familiarize myself with the Conestoga by taking a look around and seeing if there was anything useful I could do while I waited for Dipton to return.

I started by picking up the luggage I had set down near the door earlier and stowing it in the wardrobe. I set my rifle against the wall by my bed and got changed into a clean pair of pants, shirt, and put my vest on again before sitting down on the bed to think about what I should do next.

After a moment's hesitation, I got up again and headed for the door to the room and walked out into the hallway. I walked past the spiral staircase and down the hall to the left, hoping to find Dipton or Darcey around somewhere. As I walked down the corridor, I couldn't help but admire the craftsmanship of this mobile base.

Although it had a drab, utilitarian feel, it had a certain charm to it. It was like a mix between an airplane hangar and a submarine, with exposed pipes running along the ceiling, exposed rivets on the walls, and large panels lining the hallways. There were signs of wear and tear on the walls and the floor, and some of the lights were broken or flickering but overall, the place seemed sturdy enough.

I reached the end of the hall and found a door on the left that led to an observation deck of some sort. I walked through the door and found myself staring out at the landscape through a window that had a great view of the prairie.

It was quite a view. I could see the prairie stretching out as far as the eye could see with an orange hue in the sky that heralded the sunset, and the reddish glow of the light as it spilled in through the windows. The grass seemed to waver in the breeze, and there were large rock formations dotted along the horizon that were covered with vegetation.

I heard a sudden crackle, and I turned to find a comms unit that was mounted on the wall near the door. I walked over to it and was about to inspect it further when another crackle came over the speaker, and Dipton's voice echoed throughout the room.

"Connor?" Dipton's voice was slightly muffled but audible as it came through the comms unit.

I walked over to the unit again and pressed the reply button on it. "Yeah?" I asked, trying not to sound too confused or amused. "What's up?"

There was a short pause as if Dipton were weighing his words before he responded, "I was just thinking," he said slowly, as if he were uncertain about what he wanted to say next. "Did you have dinner yet?" he asked after a moment.

Huh? Dinner? What is he talking about?

I shrugged even though Dipton couldn't see me. "Uh..." I began. "No?" I said, surprised at how unsure I sounded. "Wasn't really hungry yet." I cleared my throat and added, "I'll grab something later."

Another short pause ensued before Dipton responded, his voice laced with amusement as he replied, "Alright then," he said before adding, "Oh, if you're touring the Conestoga, be sure to check out the infirmary. Your other crewmate that you haven't met yet will be there. His name's Sullivan."

Oh yeah, Sullivan. That guy he mentioned earlier. Dipton had told me that Sullivan was in some sort of deep meditation but it was in that weird way of his—where he was 'gone' for hours at a time.

"Will do," I replied, turning away from the window and walking back down the corridor before taking another right at the intersection. I stopped outside of a door with a sign on it that said 'Infirmary'. I raised a hand to knock but stopped short when the door opened, revealing a man that looked to be in his early 40s, dressed in an ornate set of robes that looked like the clothing of some sort of religious figure, though he didn't wear a ceremonial hat.

He was a slim man of average height with a clean-shaven head, a sharp nose, and a broad chin. A pair of spectacles framed his hazel-green eyes, and his square jaw was covered with a short beard of sandy blonde hair that was neatly trimmed. A tattoo of an eight-pointed star with a vertical line through the center decorated his brow.

"You must be Sullivan," I said with a friendly smile, holding out a hand to him. "Connor," I added as I stepped into the infirmary and reached out to shake his hand, surprised by how firm his grip was.

"Your presence is expected," Sullivan replied, giving me a polite smile as he stepped back and made room for me to enter. "Please."

Huh? That's a strange greeting but okay then... I shrugged off my surprise as I stepped inside and regarded the interior of the room with a mixture of fascination and curiosity.

The room was set up with an examination bed, a large wooden cupboard, a table with a set of metal cabinets underneath, and a medical terminal on a pedestal on the other side of the room. The walls were lined with several shelves full of bottles and boxes that were filled with all sorts of bandages, disinfectants, and other medicines. I turned to find Sullivan heading back to the table where a small device that looked like an astrolabe lay.

Sullivan looked up and glanced over at me before turning back to the table and continuing his work as he spoke, "I apologize," he said, pausing in his work for a moment before adding, "for not introducing myself sooner."

"It's fine," I said, turning to look at the shelves as I waited for Sullivan to finish what he was doing. "You were busy," I added as I ran my eyes over the many labels of the bottles on the shelves. "With your meditative ritual."

Sullivan let out an amused chuckle as he turned to look at me again. "Is that what Dipton called it?"

I nodded and shrugged my shoulders. "Yeah," I said, not entirely sure why Sullivan had chuckled but deciding not to pry. "Something like that."

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Sullivan nodded and continued his work, moving his fingers over the surface of the astrolabe as he manipulated whatever information was displayed on it. "Meditative ritual is an accurate description," he said, turning to look at me again before adding, "Though it is more than that."

Huh, so that's what it is? It doesn't seem like something that's gonna come up in conversation again so I guess we're gonna have to figure this out at some point...

Sullivan finished what he was doing with the astrolabe and motioned for me to take a seat at the table before returning to it himself. "Please, sit," he said, his tone carrying a slight formal air to it. "Would you like something to drink?" he asked as he rummaged through the cupboard to his left and pulled out two metal containers and a canteen of water. "I have some coffee and tea."

Coffee? Damn, I haven't had one since...the morning before the start of all this. "Sure," I said, unable to hide my eagerness as I moved to take a seat. "Sounds good."

He grabbed two metal cups and poured coffee into them before passing one over to me. I took a sip and immediately regretted it as my eyes widened in surprise at how strong it was. "Damn," I muttered under my breath while taking a second gulp, trying to suppress a grimace at the bitterness of the drink. "That's good."

Sullivan let out an amused chuckle before sipping his own cup. "Thank you," he said, setting his cup down again before turning to face me. "So, Connor," he began, pausing for a moment before continuing, "I believe Dipton has already given you an overview of our group. Perhaps you would like to hear more?"

I nodded and took another sip of my coffee before setting it down on the table again. "That sounds good," I replied as I shifted in my seat to get more comfortable. "Do you guys have any sort of initiation or whatever? Cause I'm definitely ready."

Sullivan chuckled again and shook his head. "We don't do that here," he said while giving me an earnest look. "No." He leaned back in his seat and regarded me with a thoughtful look before continuing, "If Dipton had already decided to bring you on board, then that is good enough for us. We just want people that can work together."

Huh, that's a bit unusual but it's nice not having to go through some sort of initiation. Wait, doesn't that make them too trusting? Is this some sort of ruse? It doesn't seem like it but...it might be something to keep in mind. "So what else should I know?" I asked, keeping my tone casual. "About this group?"

Sullivan nodded as he sipped his coffee. "Of course," he replied after setting his cup down again, shifting his attention to the wall opposite him as he drummed his fingers on the table in thought, thinking of what he wanted to say next.

After a moment, he turned to regard me again and continued, "The main principle that our group operates by is that everyone has a role in the group, whether it be support or combat. Everyone has a task that they're best suited to, and everyone needs to know what they need to do to help their group survive."

I nodded along with his words. "I can see that," I replied, letting him continue with his explanation.

Sullivan's gaze met mine again as he added, "Beyond that, we do not engage in hostilities with other Players." He let his words linger for a moment as he regarded me again with an intense stare. "There is no infighting within our group, nor will we stand for anyone who engages in acts of violence against another person."

That...sounded like an idealistic stance. I mean, the first part I absolutely got. But what would happen when they meet another group of Players who did have bad intentions?

"What if another Player or group of Players decided to attack us?" I asked, trying to remain neutral but concerned that it would be an issue at some point down the road.

Sullivan nodded, appearing to agree with me as he said, "We will defend ourselves, but as much as possible, we would like to avoid conflict if we can. Should it come down to it, we fight to force them to surrender. But we do not kill." He took another sip of his coffee and set his cup down, glancing over at the astrolabe on the table as he added, "Our priority is survival. Killing others for power or personal gain is unnecessary."

So they're pacifists? I nodded along with what Sullivan said but I couldn't help but feel a little skeptical about the whole thing. As if reading my mind, Sullivan turned back to me and spoke, "It is worth noting that we've had no major conflict with other Players in the past."

Wait, seriously? "How long has the group been around?" I asked, leaning forward slightly in my seat as I turned to face Sullivan fully.

Sullivan paused for a moment, cocking his head slightly as if in contemplation before answering, "Roughly...580 days?" he said as if he weren't quite sure himself. "We do not have any exact dates to go off of but Dipton has been here the longest, so if his recollection is correct, then it would be around that number."

580 days?! That seemed like quite a long time to be in Nexus for. I wondered how experienced they all were, especially for people who make it a point not to kill others. Honestly, I felt a little more comfortable knowing that they're a peaceful group and that they're not killers. I got that first impression from Darcey, but I just needed to be sure.

I turned to Sullivan again and asked, "How long have you been here?"

Sullivan remained silent as he thought about how to answer my question, letting his gaze drift over to the wall as his brows knitted together in thought before replying, "For me, it has been two hundred days since my initial arrival," he said after a moment, turning back to look at me again as he continued, "I've been with Dipton's crew for almost the same amount of time."

Huh... So it's been around almost seven months for Sullivan? That's pretty impressive. I wonder how they got to know one another then? There's gotta be a story there.

"That's quite a long time," I said as I let out an impressed chuckle and rubbed the back of my neck in an effort to hide my awkwardness at not having a better response than that. I took another sip of my coffee before asking another question, "What's your role in the group?"

Sullivan shrugged and leaned back in his chair, letting out an amused chuckle as he turned to look at the astrolabe again, drumming his fingers on the tabletop as he spoke, "To be frank, I am primarily the group's 'medic' as it were, though the resilience of outworlders makes my work somewhat redundant." He paused for a moment before continuing, "I also serve as the group's therapist and cook when necessary," he said with a shrug. "Outside those roles, I perform research on the world and try to figure out why things are the way they are."

That was a rather specific position to have in a group...but if I'm honest here, that sounds a little mundane. "So you're more of a utility than anything?" I asked, giving him an inquisitive look. "You just do whatever tasks need to be done?"

Sullivan nodded and replied, "That is accurate," he said with a smile on his face. "Though I am more than willing to help with combat missions or any other tasks that require me."

So basically, he's the jack of all trades of the group. Sounds like a lot of work, but he seems content with it. I nodded slowly and sipped my coffee as I pondered over what Sullivan had said. After a moment, I turned to Sullivan again and asked, "Can you tell me about your powers?" I doubt that he'd tell me right away, but it couldn't hurt to ask.

Sullivan blinked a few times before chuckling. "Of course," he said, brushing his fingers over the astrolabe as he turned to me again. "I am a Clairvoyant, but that is not the extent of my powers."

A Clairvoyant? That's something new...and a bit useful if he can get visions of the future or something. "What's the other part?" I asked, curious to know what his other powers were.

Sullivan didn't reply right away and instead looked at the astrolabe on the table, his eyes growing unfocused as if he were in deep thought. After a moment, he blinked and turned to me again with a warm smile.

"Divination," he said simply before turning to pick up his cup and take another sip. "I am what many would consider as a 'Seer'." He gestured at me with his cup and added, "And you, Connor Gallagher, are the one who I've divined will be important to our group."