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Assuming she doesn't run into any problems on the climbs, probably.

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She lets herself out a back window and along the streets, listening carefully at intersections, running silently. She climbs the lip of the caldera to get a look at how policed the road is; no point doing unnecessary mountaineering.

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There's movement in the watchtowers.

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Is the road lit?

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Well phooey. She climbs down the dark volcano slope.

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The ships are quiet in their moorings. A few have night guards shuffling around on deck.

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Anything new in the sketchy and not super nationalistic department?

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There are different ships than when last she was here, but nothing that stands out as particularly promising.

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Can she figure out the destinations by looking at them, are they written down somewhere?

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Maybe in the harbormaster's office, or on board the individual ships.

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She attempts to sneak a peek at the office.

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The door is locked, and nothing of interest is readily visible through the windows.

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She can pick it, if nobody's watching.

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The door is sufficiently out of view to allow this.

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Right, in she goes. Where are all these boats going?

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Most of the military ships are on a stopover from their patrol schedule, for rest and resupply. The civilians seem to be mostly inter-island traders, with a few whose routes takes them through the colonies.

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Anybody heading directly colonyward from here?

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Nope. Seems the ship that brought her here was an aberration.

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Well heck.

She heads back and climbs back up the mountain to sneak back to her graciously provided house and eat a whole lot to replace the calories used in so doing.

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There's a knock on the door shortly after the city has properly stirred to life.

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Tarinda is still wearing her nightclothes when she gets to the door.

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It's the man who volunteered to test the phonograph yesterday. He's carrying something rigid and rectangular in a briefcase-sized bag.

"Ah, did I wake you? I am terribly sorry."

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"I'm up, I'm just not very up." She could cook up stimulants in her various biologically impossible compartments but she doesn't feel a need to be bright eyed and bushy tailed this morning. "I wasn't expecting you."

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"The Fire Nation rises with the sun, as they say, but you are a foreigner. Would you prefer I returned at a later hour?"

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