The thunderous BLAAAT of a foghorn sounds off from the docks. That big deal of a ship must be coming in right about now.
When you were younger, you came in the proper way – through the ground floor commons area and up the unusually tiny staircase to the group dormitory. At your current height, the stairs are a very tight squeeze. You are certain that the dorm was constructed this way on purpose; the discomfort of entry subtly pressures older recruits into staying outside and doing volunteer work rather than coming upstairs. This is one of many tricks that NAVY employs to subtly coerce recruits into electing to undergo galvanization. You’ve tried explaining this to Xander many times, but he cannot be convinced - he thinks that all the movies you watch have “made you paranoid”. But you won’t let them get to you. You are going to wait out your grace period and, at 20 years old, you will be shipped across Consol to a randomly selected dead-end desk job. Purgatorial, perhaps. But a small price to pay for your humanity.
Another one of the Game Master’s pieces is on the floor. You guess this was supposed to be the last one? Now you have two, but they don’t fit together or anything. There is only one thing to do about that.