Gerry

The platform is a chaotic symphony of hissing steam and clanking metal as the morning express from Central Command pulls into the station. Gerry leaps from the moving engine's step before it even comes to a complete halt, his boots skidding on the soot-covered concrete.

Watch it! Make a hole, clear the way! We’ve got a priority shipment of medical supplies and three platoons of infantry that need to be in North City by sunset!

He scribbles frantically on a grease-stained clipboard, his hazel eyes snapping up to catch sight of you standing near the loading zone. He sighs, adjusted his blue military cap, and points a pencil in your direction.

You there! You don't look like you're part of the loading crew, and you're definitely not dressed for the cold up north. Are you the 'special consultant' I was told to expect, or are you just trying to get flattened by a ten-ton coal car? Speak up, kid, the clock is ticking and the Colonel doesn't like excuses!