Bronsen and Cassy:

"Yes, we are!" said Cassie.

"But, how are we?" said Bronsen.

Both Misfits gave this a moment's thought.

"Good question. Frannie, what would happen if we casually walked in and made ourselves home?" said Cassy.

"Any Grey will call out to the nearest Red or higher and get a collar onto you... That's right; there are no higher-ranking slaves. So, I suppose they will wait until some higher-ranking slaves arrive? Since we don't have any orders to deal with this situation, and it appears that all our collars are currently inactive, what can we do?" said Frannie.

"So, what happens if we start issuing orders?" said Bronsen.

"I don't know?" said Frannie.

"So, how about you stand up, and we do that casual walk as suggested by Cassy?" said Bronsen.

They tried to get Frannie to take the lead, but she didn't appear to be able to take even that small amount of initiative. Therefore, Bronsen and Cassy, hand in hand, ambled towards the settlement, with a somewhat perplexed Frannie trailing them. Around some trees and bushes, down the slope, and into the area with the most people. As they came closer, they got a better view. The ship was drawn up just above the water line, with the gaping hole, two metres across, facing the shore. Around the ship on the shoreside was a haphazard collection of boxes, woodworking tools, and piles of lumber. There were also some rope ladders going up to the ship's deck.

The grey-collared slaves mainly sat down at random locations or walked about without any noticeable sense of urgency. However, a dozen or so appeared to be doing work on the ship. Mainly, they were processing some freshly fallen tree logs and cutting them up, presumably to make boards to repair the hole.

As they got closer, people started to notice them. They looked puzzled. Then, some started noticing the lack of collars. Some got worked up about this and started talking with their companions. Most just got more puzzled. Eventually, one of those men who had been trying to accost Frannie, the one Frannie accused of being a hopeless Red, realised what they were.

"Hey, they're vermin! They should be collared!" he shouted.

He rushed away, climbed the rope ladder and disappeared into the ship's bowels. He shortly reappeared, carrying two slave collars, scrambled down the rope ladder, and charged at the two Misfits.

"Everyone, help me collar them!" he said.

But everyone else seemed not all that enthusiastic about this. Mostly because Bronsen had taken out his sword and was busy splitting the air with his strikes. Or at least, that's what it sounded like. Each strike he made produced a shark crack, and the blade moved so fast it couldn't be seen except in between movements.

"Get moving! Charge them!" said the ex-Red.

Nobody did, not even the ex-Red.

"Then, those at the back, charge the woman! She won't have any combat abilities."

Cassy immediately materialised her blade, turned and faced the slaves coming up to her from the back. She flicked her blade a few times to demonstrate that she, too, could make cracking sounds.

"We have a bit of a stalemate here," said Bronsen, "All of your collars are currently inactive, so you don't have to do anything you don't want to. Like for example, get killed trying to put collars on us. Correct?"

Bronsen stared at the ex-Red and also applied his 5% intimidation skill. The ex-Red gulped and stepped back.

"Anybody else objects to just leaving us alone?" said Bronsen.

None of the other Greys seemed to have any objections.

"Good. Now, does anyone here know how much food you have?"

Nobody volunteered any answers.

Bronsen flicked his sword a few times, making impressively loud cracking noises.

One of the slaves, a woman, tentatively raised her hand and said, "Ah, maybe a couple of months or so?"

"So, in about three months, if we don't do anything, we will start starving to death?" said Bronsen.

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"I guess?" said the woman.

"What about fishing?" said Cassy.

"We don't have any slaves with fishing skills."

"Even if someone doesn't have fishing skills, there's no reason why they can try anyway. And maybe get some skills," said Cassy.

"I've never heard of that sort of thing happening."

Cassy rolled her eyes.

"OK then, can anyone else tell us how long it will take to repair the boat and make it seaworthy?" said Cassy.

Another person, a much older male, raised his hand.

"If you don't keep interrupting me as the Blues did and keep taking away my workforce, I think I can get it repaired in three weeks?"

Cassy and Bronsen shared a glance and nodded to each other.

"Well, I guess that's settled. You follow this man's lead and work hard to make the boat functional. Anyone have any problems with that?" said Cassy.

"But, you're not collared!" said one of the slaves.

"So? If we don't get the boat fixed, then in three months, you're not alive!" said Cassy.

"But I don't take orders from a woman!"

At this point, Cassy remembered taunts from the boys in her classroom while still on Earth. She stamped her feet, stuck her ears back and her tail straight up, and swept in towards the man. Making sure her sword was dismissed, she gripped his shirt front and hoisted him up into the air. He was left dangling; he was also left just a little short of air since Cassy's grip on his collar was constricting his neck.

"Really, is that what's bothering you? Women are as good as men. And if you don't take orders from us, you will be starving. Is that what you want?"

The man flattened his ears against the side of his head to cut down the volume of Cassy's voice.

She also emphasised her statements by shaking him from side to side.

"Ah, Cassy, maybe that's enough? I think his face is going purple," said Bronsen.

"Oops, so it is."

Cassy dropped the man. He landed on the sand and fell backwards. Fortunately, the sand was soft, and there was no damage done. The two slave collars that were in his hands dropped down in front of Cassy and Bronsen.

The man dragged himself away.

Nobody else seemed willing to disagree with Cassy's statements.

And Bronsen knelt, produced his thermal lance, and burned through one of the collars.

Ding! One hundred points were awarded for destroying a slave collar (but without killing a slave).

Cassy made a thumbs-up gesture at this message.

And the ex-Red was horrified. "You can't do that!"

But he did not attempt to get closer.

"Frannie, do you have a bonded weapon?"

"Y-yes, a small hand axe. I use it to cut firewood."

"Well, I’ve just had a brilliant idea! Why not take that slave collar, put it on that rock over there, and break it with your axe? You get a hundred points, and you can then allocate some points to [Strength]," Said Cassy.

"But I'm not supposed to destroy collars!"

"But your collar is inactive. Destroy that collar, and you can increase your physical stats. Wouldn't you want that?"

Apparently, that is something that Franie would want. She carefully picked up the slave collar, gently lowered it onto the rock, and took out her axe.

After a while, Bronsen said, "You have to chop it. As hard as possible. It'll take a few goes since those collars are tough."

With enough encouragement from Cassy and Bronsen, she eventually cut it in half. The collar's material collapsed into coarse grains of what looked like rock rubble.

"I got 100 points!" said Frannie.

She did a little hop and skip. She then stopped. "Now, what do I do?"

There was a short discussion with Cassy, and then Frannie allocated her points. For the first time since they saw her, she smiled.

As for the others, they all had various looks of concern and worry on their faces, but no one was willing to go against the will of the Misfits.

Cassy went over to where the ex-Red slave was standing.

"You! Are there any more collars?"

At the same time, she applied a 2% intimidation stare.

"Argh, err, yes. There have been plenty of deaths of Greys, and we've managed to recover collars from many of them."

"Oh, good," said Cassy.

“That’s the old Cassy we all knew!” said Bronsen.

Cassy didn’t say anything in return, merely looking at Bronsen and raising her eyebrows.”

"Right. OK then, getting back to the topic, let's say we discuss things with that old man who appears to know something about repairing boats, OK?" said Bronsen.

The results of the discussion were somewhat indeterminate. The old man, Harold, didn't seem very happy about the situation. Or maybe he didn't seem all that happy about anything. Nonetheless, he indicated that he would keep doing what he was doing, supervising the team to repair the boat. However, getting the other slaves to help was problematic.

"I've got no authority over the other slaves, so if they don't want to help, then they won't." he had said.

"OK, we get the idea. If you could point out the slaves that aren't helping out but whose help you need, and maybe we can persuade some of them?" said Bronsen.

First slave they asked:

"You have carpentry skills, right?" said Bronsen.

"Yeah"

"So, would you like to help repair the boat?" said Bronsen.

"Nyah"

"Why not?" said Cassy.

"I've never had the collar stop making me do things before. It's weird. But if I don't have to, why should I?"

"Because we need to get off this island, you stupid git!" said Cassy.

The slave backed off slightly. "Then get some Reds or Blues to order us."

Bronsen spoke up in a hurry. "You do realise there are no higher-ranking slaves on this island? And the food will only last a few months? Do you intend to starve here?"

"I'm sure someone will come along and start ordering us to do something."

Bronsen gave up on that slave.

They tried with some more slaves. They were not able to convince any of them to start working.

Cassy scrunched up her nice, tidy hair in frustration.

"Bloody hell, what does it take to get this lot moving? It'll be faster to do it ourselves..."

She stopped.

"Actually..." said Bronsen, "Why don't we do it ourselves?"

"Ahh, I guess... Let's get Harold and give us instructions on how to saw up lumber!" said Cassy.

It took only two hours for them to gain the skill 'Wooden Ship Repair' and to level it up to 10. And get a bonded saw, suitable for ripping tree trunks into planks. After another two hours of furious sawing, they had a stack of planks. Harold was impressed. He even smiled briefly -

"Why, at least half of these planks can be used! For beginners, that's not bad."

Cassy and Bronsen, covered in sawdust, decided to call it a day. This decision was helped because everyone else had also decided to call it a day and were beginning to mill around the ship.