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But something was off. Most of the stations on the sides meant for repairs were empty, gleaming tools abandoned mid-task, just two were being currently operated by Tech-Priests. A smattering of well-dressed individuals, clearly high-class or their elaborately garbed servants, milled about, their faces etched with growing impatience.
One particularly pompous man, his aquiline nose pinched in disdain, rapped his cane loudly on the polished floor. "This is outrageous! I require an immediate, IMMEDIATE attention on my ocular implant. Do these... attendants... have any idea who I am?"
A flustered servitor, puppeteered by one of the Tech-Priest's anxious finger-gestures, scurried over. "M-most esteemed patron," it stammered, its voice a harsh metallic rasp, "some of the Tech-Priests are currently... indisposed. They shall attend to your needs momentarily, with the Omnissiah's blessing."
The man scoffed. "Blessing be damned! I require a solution, now! This delay is unacceptable!"
His frustration echoed amongst the others, a low rumble of discontent simmering in the opulent chamber. You exchanged a nervous glance with Jamarco, who stood by the entrance, a sardonic grin plastered on his face.
You were about to just sneak out back to Jamarco when a figure glided towards you, momentarily distracting you from the growing tension.
"Excuse me," the voice said, and you found yourself face-to-face with one of Vassioport's many Venuses. A young woman, breathtakingly attractive, stood before you. Her outfit was a mix of a flowing Imperial-style noble dress and more avant-garde Glitterglobe-style designer cloths with printed branding that held stretched over her gigantic bust.
"You must be a Tech-Priest," she continued, her lips curving into a dazzling smile. "My poor Pip seems to be malfunctioning. Wondering if you could take a quick look?"
She gestured towards a nearby station. Perched on it was a tiny, humanoid servitor, its polished brass frame dull and its movements jerky. It chittered apologetically, its voice box sputtering.
"Uh, actually, I'm not a Tech-Priest. Just an apprentice." You gestured vaguely towards yourself.
A flicker of disappointment crossed her flawless features, quickly replaced by a playful smile. "Oh? But perhaps you could still just give him a little look, still?" she batted her eyelashes, her voice dripping with a feigned helplessness, as her hand discreetly slipped some coin into your apprentice uniform's pocket.
* Obtained 100 credits *
"I... I don't know," you mumbled.
> Inspect (and attempt to diagnose) the servitor under the pretense of "admiring the ingenuity of the Machine God".
> Report that this woman had attempted to bribe you to the Tech-Priests, give her the money back.
> Tell her that you can try to help her, but that it was going to have to be elsewhere.
> Write in