Description
Daily shifts available. Join the dock crew for round-the-clock cargo work opportunities!
Introduction
You have a job: Dock Worker, accepted at Daedalus in the Sol system.
Unload 5 pieces of cargo at the Shipping Bay on Daedalus.
Next area: Shipping Bay, Daedalus
- Unload cargo.
(Strength check)
You work alongside others, carrying a heavy package from a docked ship to the pick-up area of the Shipping Bay. A grateful customer picks it up. Keep going, only four more to go!
Unload 4 pieces of cargo at the Shipping Bay.
- Continue unloading cargo.
(Strength check)
The next box is stamped with the words "SYSTEM OF ORIGIN: ALPHA CENTAURI" and feels like it weighs more than you do. But, with a determined grunt you wrestle it off the ship and stack it with others in the Shipping Bay.
Unload 3 pieces of cargo at the Shipping Bay.
- Unload the next piece of cargo.
(Strength check)
Next to you, a burly Mall is carrying two crates at a time and barely breaking a sweat. But you're more than holding your own, stooping to lift the next package and then plonking it down onto the scanning conveyor belt for imports. The crate moves forward jerkily, stops while a couple of scanner arms pass over its surfaces, then resumes its journey when the light above the belt flashes green. Your muscles are sore but it's a morale boost to see the pile of packages dwindling.
Unload 2 pieces of cargo at the Shipping Bay.
- Keep going. Unload more cargo.
(Strength check)
The next crate is somewhat unusual, possessing some sort of pressure and temperature control system for its contents. On the side, it's labelled "FRAGILE: STIMS". Moving it is hard work but, with a primal roar - which attracts a few stares from the other cargo handlers, you lift it. Carrying it down a quiet corridor, you're distracted by a noise coming from a shadowy doorway.
A voice calls: Psssst!
You turn to see a short and stocky Colonist who appears to wear the regalia of one of the station's less reputable syndicates. Though half-shrouded in darkness, you nonetheless make out a toothy grin as he grunts a few clipped syllables your way, placing a stubby hand on the crate you're holding.
He says: Stuff can get misplaced round here… If you take your eye off it. Even for a unit. Ya get me?
- "I'm not sure I follow."
- "I get it. Count me in."
- "I understand. But I'm not interested."
Not sure I follow:
Me: I'm not sure I follow.
From the shadowed silhouette in the doorway comes a derisive snort.
He grunts: I get it. You ain't the brightest. I'll spell it out then. Your arms ache. You need a rest. So you put the box down, just for a unit. And then suddenly, maybe it ain't here no more. It happens. And maybe a few creds land in your account after… Whaddya say?
- "I get it. Count me in."
- "I understand. But I'm not interested."
Not interested:
I understand, but I'm not interested. Now, get going before I call security.
A beady black eye glints in the darkness. Briefly you tense up, fearing attack, before the figure mumbles something under his breath.
He says: Fine. Suit yourself…
And then, just like that, he's gone. Alone again, you deliver the stim crate to its destination and prepare to continue your shift.
Count me in:
Me: I get it. Count me in. A misplaced crate never hurt nobody…
You place the crate down at your feet, then look away as it slides across into the adjacent shadow of the doorway. It feels like just a unit or two, but suddenly there's no sign any more of either the crate or the mysterious stranger who propositioned you. Instead, at your feet, there's a small credit chit.
You have received 8.00 credits.
You scoop it up, then turn around to collect a replacement for the package you just 'misplaced'.
- Unload more cargo
(Strength check)
You saunter back into the freight hold, grabbing a large - but thankfully light - box of CO2 filters and unloading it onto the freight import belt. Your muscles ache but you're nearly there. Only one more piece of cargo left!
Unload 1 piece of cargo at the Shipping Bay.
- Unload the final piece of cargo.
(Strength check)
Now alone in the almost-empty hold of the small freighter, you wrap your arms around the final package and hobble over to the Shipping Bay "incoming items" area, dumping it in the requisite place. As you place it down, you hear the heavy clunk of a dozen rifles clacking against the inside of the package.
The cargo supervisor approaches: Sore back, <name>? I don't doubt it. Sign of an honest day's graft… Carry it with pride! Here's your pay, come back anytime!
Your CORETECHS verifies the incoming payment, before the supervisor trots away, humming happily to herself. You reflect on a hard shift with a mix of satisfaction and relief, making your own way out.
Congratulations!
You have completed the 'Dock Worker' job.
You have received 17.00 credits.
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