New rotors keep the city aloft. They are in greater number than before, and spin more rapidly. (And, though the picture does not do them justice, the textures on the base of the rotors are amazing.)
The infrastructure has been rebuilt, providing a transparent canopy throughout the central core of the city.
An aft control tower now stands where the visitors' cabins once were. (And, ahem, Mrs. Volare: that was where my home point was - still is, actually. That sister of mine can't figure out how to deed her land to our group so I can rez in my own house. Well, her own house, to be technical, but it's family, for goodness' sake!)
I happened to catch a glimpse of the CAT hospital ship en route from the Iron Cloud.
Inside, the engines have been entirely rebuilt, and appear much more powerful than before. One suspects any future rogue catgirl pirates will be in for a surprise! (Unless I just let the cat(girl) out of the bag. Oops.)
I tested out the controls on the aft flight deck.
As an aside, I heard an interesting rumor the other day: that Babbagers were hearing that the fiendish Doctor Obolensky was taking credit for the attack on Steam Sky City. On the one hand, I would not put such an audacious maneuver past him, though Caledon seems quite far from his usual area of operation. On the other hand, the Doctor is never publicity-shy, as one may recall from his decision to place his name on the bombs he had mercenaries drop on Babbage. It is hard for me to comprehend that he might have been behind the scheme and yet not made his participation more apparent. Methinks this claim an effort to take credit for someone else's perfidy. In any event, as Clockwinder Tenk apparently tolerates the Doctor's presence in Babbage, I urge Mr. Tenk to investigate this claim and, if it contains any grain of truth, to take all appropriate action.
2 comments:
The Fiendish Doctor O has always hated the festivities aboard Steam SkyCity. The memory of Lord Smashington II being entangled in the girders of my warehouse still embarrasses him, no doubt. I am sure that, on evenings of troubled contemplation, he takes his tea through gritted teeth.
Strike back, sir, with an iron fist! Do not take the foul doctor's actions calmly - seek revenge!
(Oh, unless you're already doing that on the sly and need absolute secrecy for your plan to work. Um. Oops?)
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