Iknow5/Text_Adventures huggingface dataset:
Matti is asleep. Hinsman is seated at a table near the bed, freshly showered and changed into a grey jumpsuit identical to yours and looking exhausted. Karoff is nowhere to be seen.

"He's back on the ship seeing how much power we can spare," Hinsman tells you, before you can ask. "This medical station's about the only thing working as intended in this place right now. We need to at least get the computers up before we can figure out what all needs to be repaired and how. It'd be really great if we had a maintenance worker familiar with the place to talk to, but..." He inclines his head toward the young woman's supine form and shrugs. The end of what's left of her arm is neatly wrapped in bandages, but her face looks pale and strained even in her sleep and her eyes twitch restlessly behind her lids.

Briefly you relate what you'd discovered.

"The plot thickens," he mutters, then gestures toward the computer. "Why don't you see what you can find there as far as internal records on these three?"

You nod and take a seat, flashing your wrist at the sensor. The computer blips once and you're in. You have a pretty high clearance. Higher even than Hinsman's you suspect, although that's not really a thing you're supposed to ask anyone about. Retrieving sensitive data from wrecked Order ships or evacuated command stations is one of the things you need to be able to do with no fuss when required, and your superiors know this.

You look up Markov

Name: Markov Carst
Eyes: blue
Hair: brown
Height: 6'3"
Weight: 201
Age: 41
Other: left handed
Origin: Galton Station
Skills: fringe space station maintenance
Years service: 5
Matti is asleep. Hinsman is seated at a table near the bed, freshly showered and changed into a grey jumpsuit identical to yours and looking exhausted. Karoff is nowhere to be seen.

"He's back on the ship seeing how much power we can spare," Hinsman tells you, before you can ask. "This medical station's about the only thing working as intended in this place right now. We need to at least get the computers up before we can figure out what all needs to be repaired and how. It'd be really great if we had a maintenance worker familiar with the place to talk to, but..." He inclines his head toward the young woman's supine form and shrugs. The end of what's left of her arm is neatly wrapped in bandages, but her face looks pale and strained even in her sleep and her eyes twitch restlessly behind her lids.

Briefly you relate what you'd discovered.

"The plot thickens," he mutters, then gestures toward the computer. "Why don't you see what you can find there as far as internal records on these three?"

You nod and take a seat, flashing your wrist at the sensor. The computer blips once and you're in. You have a pretty high clearance. Higher even than Hinsman's you suspect, although that's not really a thing you're supposed to ask anyone about. Retrieving sensitive data from wrecked Order ships or evacuated command stations is one of the things you need to be able to do with no fuss when required, and your superiors know this.

You look up Matti

Name: Matilda Oswen
Eyes: green
Hair: blonde
Height: 5'3"
Weight: 122
Age: 26
Other: stationed at The Last Outpost for completion of training
Origin: Camarov IV
Skills: fringe space station maintenance
Years service: 1
You ease the shuttle closer, and closer still. The viewscreen isn't needed to get a visual on the probe now; you can just look out the window. It's small, but the slender segmented form puts you in mind of a wasp, with a pair of satellites making up the 'wings'. The design is sleek and something about it worries you. The longer you look at it the more you get the sense it's dangerous somehow. But that's just all the more reason to take it out of commission.

You disable it with laser fire to be safe.

A precisely aimed laser from close range is a far cry from a fusion torpedo, and won't harm the probe in any way that would prevent it from being studied. You target the spherical 'head' of the wasp and fire.

A quick spit of green light burns a tiny hole through what you hope is the central processor. A moment later you realize your error however as the shot has not only failed to disable the probe, but triggered a response in return. The shield indicator on your screen blinks to zero for a split second, accompanied by a sound of metal clinking against the outside of the ship.

"What the--"

Crackling energy is suddenly crawling from every wall. The wave rips through you and your vision goes white, then black. You're dimly conscious of hitting the floor, and then never wake up again.
The door here opens to one of the storage arms of the station. It seems as likely a place as any to find cleaning supplies and so you slip through the door, carefully stepping over the severed limb and making your way down the dimly lit hall. It becomes obvious this is more of an area for discarded equipment waiting for repair or recycling and you pass numerous discarded fuel and energy tanks as well as other assorted clutter before you come to a cleaning machine parked in an alcove. The energy cell is low but even if it only does the job halfway it'll save you a lot of time.

As you're pulling it free, there's a clatter of metal and you see an energy canister was wedged behind it and is now rolling across the floor.

You go finish cleaning

This section of the station is literally a junk heap. You roll the machine past the clutter without giving the canister a second thought and then climb on and activate it, cleaning bristles and bubbles going to work on the drying blood.

Matti's arm you toss into a non-functioning incinerator and hope the power situation is sorted out before it gets a chance to rot.

The cleaning machine holds out after all. You finish just as it dies and shove it into an out of the way corner before going to seek out the others.
The captain of the airship waits patiently at her desk, awaiting your next question.

You ask her about the Gahl'vuhr Sehn

"I should have anticipated such a question from you, Unworthy," the captain says, scowling. "The Gahl'vuhr Sehn is a governing body which oversees all operations and protocol undertaken by us Auvahrs, as well as Tenurs and some subspecies of Comors. They strictly enforce the rules and policies put in place to maintain some sense of order among the sky islands, although Unworthy ones such as yourself are unfortunately exempt from such regulations.

"However, it has probably not escaped your notice that Gahl'vuhr Sehn has their work cut out for them at the moment. Just a bit of chaos going around, that's all, thanks to what's going on at the surface. I should also mention that just because myself and my crew are members of the Gahl'vuhr Sehn, we are not especially high-ranking in the organisation." She cocks her head to one side. "Perks of the job, you might say. It's probably the only reason why I let Mother Ghared save your skin."

You have never heard of this Gahl'vuhr Sehn, not in all your years living at your island. Rules and regulations? You and your family have never needed such things. That's the whole point of life in the sky islands. You are free. The thought of other people trying to limit such unrestrained freedom makes you feel rather worried about what might be really going on.
The captain of the airship waits patiently at her desk, awaiting your next question.

You ask her about what happened to you

"Several hours ago, you fell out of the sky," she says. "You weren't the only one, either. There were entire islands collapsing to the left and right, and I had to get the ship out of the way to avoid being crushed by the next giant land mass. Mother Ghared…"

Mother Ghared steps forward at this point. "I was on duty at the front deck when you emerged," she says calmly. "Unlike the others who fell, you had a slim chance of survival. I chose to use my abilities to slow your fall and take you on board. The captain did not approve of my decision, but I was able to persuade her to let you live until we reached the next island."

The captain shakes her head in disgust. "Fat lot of good that will do us, Mother Ghared. If we're unlucky enough to run into a Gahl'vuhr Sehn patrol when we reach Majeruk, they'll want to know why we have an Unworthy on board." She glares at you. "I'll just tell them that you were a stowaway and that Mother Ghared refused to let me throw you over the side. Doesn't matter if the world's splitting down the middle or if islands are falling out of the damn sky – as far as the Gahl'vuhr Sehn is concerned, rules are rules. They must be followed. I'm so glad that the highest-ranking representative on board has decided to break them on my behalf."

"You may defer any responsibility to me, captain," Mother Ghared says. "They will understand. Even the life of an Unworthy can give rise to many new members of the Gahl'vuhr Sehn. The future is always uncertain."

"That's easy for you to say, Mother Ghared, but I like my future to stay as stable as possible." The captain turns her attention back to you. "What else was there? Oh, yes. We brought you inside and had no choice but to put you in the cabin in which one of our prisoners was housed. Not the safest choice, but we are already stretched to full capacity here."

You recall the mutant you saw in your room. "Prisoner?" you repeat.

"Cargo is not the only thing we transport on this airship," she states. "Occasionally we are given the task of transporting valuable and dangerous criminals to far-off locations – some islands are used for prisoners alone. "Prison islands", we call them. Leave them there to rot away, stranded, where they can't hurt anyone. Better than any of those primitive human jails, in my opinion." She sits back in her chair. "I'm sure the prisoner didn't bother you at all. It would be a pretty big problem if that one managed to escape. A single mutant has the means to contact many others of its kind, and those creatures carry grudges against their captors for years. Downright murderous, they are. That's why it's essential that we keep every single one of them locked up."
You must be mad to think of doing this. Quickly, you leap over the gap and onto the separated part of the doomed ship, which is quickly plummeting towards earth at a deadly speed. Above you, the remaining half remains airborne. It quickly disappears from sight as you fall.

It's impossible to keep your footing on the deck when the ship is falling so fast; parts of it are beginning to break up again from the constant acceleration. Gritting your teeth, you force yourself to crawl over to where Mother Ghared is lying. Her eyes are open, and she seems faintly aware of what is going on around here, but she is otherwise unhurt. If anything, she just looks exhausted.

When she sees you, her eyes widen and she grabs your wrist. "Fljght, Fljght," she whispers to you urgently, pressing a crumpled scroll into the palm of your hand. The words she speak are not in your language. "Fljght, fljght…"

Her eyes close as she falls back into unconsciousness. You stare at her in confusion as the ship continues to fall. The scroll she gave you is covered with strange symbols and runes that are incomprehensible to you. Somehow, you think she was trying to give you to a clue.

You say "Fljght, Fljght"

You utter the incantation, and the scroll glows faintly before disintegrating into nothing. The glow itself has not faded, however, but has spread to the soles of your feet. With a start, you realise that you are no longer falling, and that your body feels as light as a feather. You are no longer in any danger of plummeting to your death.

Moving forward, you are surprised to find that you can now move in any direction – up and down, too – at will. You have as much freedom as a bird, and can fly through to the air as you see fit. The activated scroll has bestowed this power on you, and you may now fly from here to your heart's content.

Thankfully, the same ability has also been granted to Mother Ghared. Though unconscious, she remains floating in the air before you. You take hold of her body, which you find to weigh scarcely anything at all, and bring her with you as you fly through the open skies. Perhaps she just needs some rest after what she's been through.

With Mother Ghared in tow, you turn to fly from here as far away as you can. You discover that you can only fly at a fixed speed, so there is no way to accelerate. Fear washes over you at the thought that this ability may actually be temporary. What if you could lose this power at any given moment?

With this in mind, you travel away from the ruins of the airship far above you, out into the vast vast open skies. You don't know where you're going, exactly, but anywhere is better than this.
You step into the vehicle and strap yourself in, before realising that you have no idea how to physically turn it on. With a frown, you examine the numerous buttons and dials on the dashboard in front of you. One of these must start up the machine – if it works at all, that is. After about a minute, you manage to narrow down the correct button to just two of them. They are all labelled, but naturally the words are written in Common Tongue.

You push the button which says "Sflf-dfstrvct"

As soon as you push the button, the entire dashboard lights up. Alarmed, you freeze in your seat as the controls start to glow faintly. A few seconds later, the vehicle explodes in a great ball of fire, taking you with it! You have initiated the self-destruct sequence set into the craft, installed by the Auvahrs for use in dire emergencies, and your death is instantaneous. You perish here upon the airship, trying to escape.
Judging your chances of survival on board this ship to be diminishing by the second, you start to search the surrounding cabins for a way out of here. There has to be something that you can use. Airships are fitted with emergency safety measures for use in the worst-case scenario, such as equipment failure or a particularly vicious storm. You're not on the surface, after all. You're not in one of those strange human ships which take people over water, able to throw yourself overboard and swim away from all the pandemonium…

Inside one of the cabins near the back, you find a disused aerial vehicle which is fitted with an engine of some kind. At least, you assume that it's an engine. It looks quite similar to some of the devices you saw in the captain's room. Buttons and dials cover the inside of the vehicle, and there is only space for one person to drive it.

The craft is covered with dust and cobwebs and looks as if it hasn't been used in some time. You have no idea if it still works. If you're really unlucky, it might even blow up in your face.

From far above, you can hear the sound of the storm growing louder and louder. You can no longer hear the voices of the crew members from before. A chill goes up your spine as you realise that the airship is being dragged deeper and deeper into the storm.

You decide not to risk it and continue searching for another way out

You continue searching through the other cabins for any alternative methods of escape. The ship is shaking rather violently by now. Within minutes, cracks begin to appear in the walls and ceiling, until you realise that the damage to the vessel is more serious than you thought. Frantically, you dash into one of the last cabins to find an escape route as quickly as possible.

However, you are far too late. The opportunity has already passed. The ceiling of the cabin caves in from above, and your body is crushed under tons of falling rubble. You do not live to see what happens next, but the rest of the airship is destroyed minutes afterwards. You perish here on the airship, in the midst of a violent lightning storm.
You crouch against the inside of the wall, covering your head as the deafening noise continues all around you. Earlier on, you could hear the cries of the other people as they sought shelter within their fragile little huts, but now there is nothing to be heard but the endless howling of the wind. A chill seeps into your bones, but that is the least of your worries right now. This wall will not hold for long. You may as well be stranded in the middle of the ocean, clinging to a broken piece of driftwood as the storm rages on.

As if eager to give you confirmation of this, small cracks begin to spread out across the wall where you are hiding. The entire island is shaking, causing the cracks to widen.

You try to move to a different location

It would be foolishness to remain here. As quickly as you can, you crawl out of cover into the open. Almost immediately, you are buffeted by the force of the wind on your back. You dig your fingernails into the ground at your feet, refusing to let go. You will not die here, not so easily, like a candle sputtering out in the midst of total darkness. You are determined to survive.

Behind you, the wall of your house collapses and crumbles apart. There's no going back now. The wind is now fiercer than ever.

You call out to your neighbours for aid

You raise your voice and let out a desperate cry for help, but your voice is drowned out by the sound of the wind. Your plea goes unheard. In any case, your neighbours and friends have their own problems to deal with. During a crisis of this nature, the act of helping another soul would compromise the safety of another. Nobody is going to help you. This is the reality that you're faced with.

The wind suddenly picks up speed, and you are thrown off your feet, clumps of grass falling uselessly from your bleeding fingers. You scream as you are flung from the surface of the island, spiralling towards certain death far below…
It would be foolishness to remain here. As quickly as you can, you crawl out of cover into the open. Almost immediately, you are buffeted by the force of the wind on your back. You dig your fingernails into the ground at your feet, refusing to let go. You will not die here, not so easily, like a candle sputtering out in the midst of total darkness. You are determined to survive.

Behind you, the wall of your house collapses and crumbles apart. There's no going back now. The wind is now fiercer than ever.

You inch your way towards one of the few houses still standing

Gritting your teeth, you pull yourself along the ground at a painfully slow pace towards one of the more sturdy-looking houses. You can already see several faces huddled inside the walls, frightened and helpless at what is going on outside. As you draw nearer to them, you see panic rise in their eyes, as if your mere presence is compromising their chances of survival. Perhaps they are simply too scared to move.

The door, miraculously, appears to be secure. You duck your head down as the wind buffets against your back, and succeed in making it to the threshold. It is then that you discover that the door has been locked and bolted from the inside. The people inside remain huddled together, staring out at you with empty expressions.

"Let me in," you cry out to them in desperation, banging on the door with your fists. Your fingers are bleeding from clutching the ground, and you dare not raise your head too far up. "Please. Let me inside!"

Nobody unlocks the door. Nobody dares to move.

You are still frantically banging on the door when the wind picks up and throws you off your feet. The people's stares burn into you as you are flung from the surface of the island, screaming as you spiral towards certain death far below…
It would be foolishness to remain here. As quickly as you can, you crawl out of cover into the open. Almost immediately, you are buffeted by the force of the wind on your back. You dig your fingernails into the ground at your feet, refusing to let go. You will not die here, not so easily, like a candle sputtering out in the midst of total darkness. You are determined to survive.

Behind you, the wall of your house collapses and crumbles apart. There's no going back now. The wind is now fiercer than ever.

You maintain your current position and hold on for dear life

You feel that there is no use in moving from here. The slightest motion might give the wind enough leeway to knock you off balance. You grit your teeth and hold on tight, aware that you are exposed and vulnerable, but hopeful that you will be able to get through this. You may be alone, but your strength of will has seen you through many trials in life. You can do this...

The wind suddenly picks up speed, and you are thrown off your feet, clumps of grass falling uselessly from your bleeding fingers. You scream as you are flung from the surface of the island, spiralling towards certain death far below…
You claw your way towards what used to be your personal residence. The roof has been torn off, the front door is hanging on by mere threads, and the interior has been devastated beyond recovery. Only pieces of shattered wood remain here now. The wind picks up, and for a second you almost lose your grip, but you somehow manage to make it inside. What remains of the wall here serves as a temporary shelter.

Even so, the feeling in your gut tells you that the entire island is picking up more speed than before. The chains will not be repaired: it is not going to stop. Your chances of survival are slim at best.

You pick up some of the fragments of wood

You scramble across the floor to where your bed used to be. It is now nothing but rubble, broken into multiple pieces by the pressure of the fall. Most of the fragments are too small to be of any use, but you do find a few sturdy pieces which could be used as a weapon. A weapon? Why on earth are you thinking of weapons now? The realisation comes in an instant: the world really has gone wrong. The crumbling of your island may not be the only danger which awaits you. You need to get your hands on everything you can get.

The wind is now powerful enough to shred this little piece of wood into pieces, so you hastily tuck it inside your thin tunic for safekeeping. Perhaps it will come in useful later, assuming you have a future to look forward to...

At your back, small cracks start to spread out across the walls of your house. The entire island is shaking, causing the cracks to widen.