Piloting the Arch was more like a spaceship than a boat. It was designed primarily for the journey from surface to base, but was capable of handling sustained currents. The volunteer crew was down to Claymore, Woollibee & Woollibee, Onk the electrical engineer, and a gung-ho member of lab cleaning staff who knew the building and supplies. Everyone else had boarded some form of transport – Drift X with the top targets, company shuttles for the rest. At the helm, they creatively utilized the attractive and frictionless force fields for turbo action. The mass force form physics had a weird but elegant set of controls that Leryn Onk understood well, having been in charge of levers and switches. Draig had infected them with the idea, and had enough means to a plan to act like there was one. These people were ready for this leg of adventure. It was their fuck-you after having to cower through their moment of triumph; a sanctioned joyride.
Draig enacted the parameter protocol for the nearest out of range and defensible situation. He’d always been able to ace this type of maneuver. It was a natural protector ability. As soon as they could split after the deboarding, they took their head start across the Foshani ocean, leaving no window for Foundational search opportunities.
With the approval of his compatriots, Draig was pretty sure that he wanted to lure any hostile patrols with a pointed surfacing. They were both the most valuable and the least valuable piece on the board now, and he was certain that it was important to give the others a shot at a clean getaway.
The other four joined him regularly at the peak bridge. They stared avidly into the rushing abyss.