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Do you need masters or slaves more?

We’re definitely in need of a lot more masters (or staff members) than slaves at the moment.

“Fuck this shit…..”

Ellie grumbles as she walks around the airbase. It was bad enough doing it once, joining a group, it was difficult to try and adapt but eventually, she felt like she had achieved it–to a certain extent anyway. She’s pretty sure some others might have something to say about that though. She didn’t even mind having the odd stray filter in as well–yeah, fine, after all, that is what she was once.

—but this?–joining a group that is already here when ‘your’ group turn up.

No, she doesn’t like it.

It’s the feeling she gets too. Maybe Ellie is being paranoid and hasn’t met some of the more friendlier ones, but some of them definitely look like they would throw them out at the first chance they got. This only adds to her determination not to let them see any chinks in her armour. She’s also not about to just go brown-nosing and kissing ass to fit in either, no matter how difficult things might be if not.

So Ellie keeps her weapons close, making sure to not leave her holdalls unless she knows someone from her group will watch over them.

For now though, she is looking for something specific. Building a mobile generator from scratch and with parts from other machines and equipment, isn’t the easiest thing to do, but she knows with time she can do it. With it being a mobile one as well, at least if they up and move again, she can take it with her.

Rifling through some tools which aren’t hers, but don’t look like they are claimed either, Ellie places a couple of screwdrivers on the side and smiles when she has found what she is looking for-- a hacksaw.

“Perfect....”

Just then, she hears someone nearby and turns around, her brow already raised as she waits to see who it is.