Into the Depths

1.

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𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

LOCATION:
The Ark—Hanger #3
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Coordinates:
40º 19' 10.5168" N
73º 8' 31.0416" W

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-Eighteen Years Later-

It was pointless, utterly pointless as Delilah had continued to twist her wrench to tighten the bolt—This, as she discovered, was the best way to disperse her anger.

The Council would never allow this to continue. But here she was, doing it anyway.

The building expedition had been out on the mess hall's bulletin board for weeks, and there hadn't been many individuals who wanted to join. And Delilah couldn't blame them.

Not for the pay, not for the risk—And most certainly not for the fact that the Council and the highest tiers of the facility were showing any support or involvement in it.

The reason they were hesitant and didn't outright take the project away from her, is because it stopped the riots the moment it was introduced—Or paused them, temporarily.
Delilah knew, deep down, it was all a ploy to get the lowest civilians to keep living life in ignorance, but nobody would be more ignorant than the ones making the rules.

A sharp thrill of metal had caused Delilah to turn, it had been Mitch Roberts who had been born into one of the lowest levels. Though his intelligence was far too valuable to be left cramped and contained in such conditions.

"You alright, 'Lilah?" Mitch asked, and she puffed the breath she was holding out and returned back at the task at hand. She could go on and on about the level of disrespect lingering throughout the facility, that matters were getting worse—And with the sign-ups failing, things were going to turn into an absolute shitstorm if she didn't get things moving.

But of course, even with her father as the Captain, there was little funding from the Council.

Yet Delilah couldn't wait to get things moving from the ground up. Damn those men, and damn them twice for not trusting her or her calculations.

"We're behind schedule, and you're asking me if I'm alright?" She responded, but Mitch snorted. "What did you expect, good old pops to give you better funding? He barely remembered your birthday last month." She hummed and pushed herself out from underneath the piece of machinery as she handed him the tool.

Mitch wasn't being mean, he was being honest, which Delilah appreciated more than anything else.

"That's the best it's going to be, call the team soon, yeah? We need to get things moving if we don't want another uproar." It was a cruel reminder, but Mitch had responded with a firm nod and followed the order of calling the team.
It hadn't been the amount that she hoped for, but she managed to gain the essentials by seeking them out and recruiting them herself.

Even if every member had more than one individual task at a time.

Today's departure was going to be a normal expedition, which didn't require confirmation but did need notice. It might prove to be difficult, but Delilah felt discouraged when she caught wind of who was on duty as of right now.

"Fuck."

"What's up?" Mitch called out from the opposite end of their mechanical cabin, and she groaned as she held up her tablet. "I have to report to Hardin."

It was a shared look of panic and temptation to just go anyway that pushed through the forefront. "Better to ask for forgiveness than permission?