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"I think I have a pretty good idea of what people need," Vaned says to the remaining crowd, "But please speak up if I seem to be forgetting something. Cam, we're high on ballast right now, about, mm, forty tons of margin unless you want to start making whole new ships. We've got the hands for them at any rate."
"I don't think I know you that well, and some of what I do know is that you shot at me. But I can do fridges and lights and a generator to power batteries for them, just tell me where you want everything."
Vaned limits his reaction to thinned lips and a "Certainly, right this way."
Tesla asks about textbooks again.
Electronics. Obviously. And other lost technology if there's anything that stands out. She doesn't care about history or culture or anything like that, though.
Cam makes a hydrogen generator and installs lights and fridges with batteries that can be swapped out at-generator as needed.
Vaned opines that it's not quite fair if Tesla is the only one to get a computer. Could they possibly get one for everyone, or at least a dozen or so to share around?
When they have their generator and fridges and lights and computers, both Vaned and the guy who shot at him apologize as sincerely as they can and wish Cam good fortune. Tesla isn't there, she's already reading through an engineering textbook.
It could take a little while, this is apparently an empty section of sky. There's a large island with two houses, but it's not really a town.
...Those appear to be slaves. Depressed-looking people in poor-quality clothing working on farms with carefully designed rope restraints, overseen by someone significantly better-dressed holding a sword.
Oh dear. That's very unfortunate for the fellow with the sword, who is asleep now. Cam lands.
Most of them shy away. One of the healthiest-looking ones hisses at him, "You did that?"
"Yeah. Who else do I need to help out of here and what kind of resistance can I expect?"
"Come on, I only had one month in the hole! You can't get em all and they'll blame us."
"...If you say so, fine. Most of us are on the farms, but a few get assigned as personal servants or 'personal servants'. Those'd mostly be in the houses with lots of blue on the front, the governors. If you fail at this, I didn't help you."
"Are all the slaves dressed more or less like you? How many of you are there ballpark?"
"More or less dressed like us, yes. About a thousand two hundred total? That's a guess, though."
"Okay. If I carry you all off and give you your own island and a nice store of food and so on will you have the collective skillset to do all right for yourselves?"
"I'm not leaving without my sister!"