A full crew of four inklings boarded a ship chartered by Grizzco to combat salmonids on the fallen wreckage of the Ark Polaris and collect eggs for Mr. Grizz in the early-morning summer haze of October 8th, XX17. All-together quiet and despondent from the injustice of sacrificing their poor sleep schedules for a part-time job, the group milled about in the cabin before taking their seats as the boat lurched into motion.

Conversation was slow to begin, but as their drowsiness wore down from the shudders and jolts of the ship over the water, all but the lone inkling in the corner of the room were chatting it up about what they intended to spend their money on once they had returned. "Well, don't you think it'd be great if we get one of those fifty-two gal's? I mean, it's not super different from a splattershot, right, Jaron-?"

Drifting away from the group and onto the aft end of the ship, the quiet squid's absence was disregarded by his teammates. He stood a short distance away from the captain, his stolid gaze fixed on the water as she leaned her elbows on the stainless steel railing and turned to him with a deep sigh. "Shouldn't you be with your friends? You'll get seasick if you move around too much."

As if oblivious to her comment, the inkling's eyes followed the puffy fog banks gliding over the murky Inkopolis Bay, not a peep leaving his lips to interrupt the purr of the boat's motor and the crashes of the waves. Though, as the early-morning fog drifted over to the boat, the water stung his skin and he winced, covering his face with the tin-wrapped workers cap.

The captain continued watching the odd inkling for a while, a nonplussed expression on her own face as she scanned his features. Despite her diminutive stature for her age, the boy was shorter still by at least a foot. Her curiosity at his silence waned before long, however, appreciating the rare chance at peace and quiet out on the waves it afforded her. After all, hadn't her reason for getting her captain's license in the first place been her love for the serene solitude of the open water?

Still, she found it curious his tentacles had cups on the /outside/ - that wasn't a fashion trend she recognized.

After a while, the sun came up over the Inkopolis City skyline and the fog began to dissipate, illuminating the water with a bright orange glow. It wasn't long after that the inkling retired to the main cabin to escape the glare of the sun across the rippling bay, seating himself with his head leaned against a lifejacket. Without a word spoken to the group, he soon fell fast asleep.


Several hours passed before the boat came within range of the Ark Polaris ruins. The midday sunlight reflected off of the wreck's gleaming glass-and-steel surface, bathing the group of inklings on the aft of the ship in its inescapable radiance as they suited up. As soon as they superjumped away, the captain pulled out her phone to pass the time.

It took but a few quiet minutes there on the aft deck for the captain to realize something had gone wrong. Shouts echoed from the far side of the Ark, discordant pleas for help reaching her ears before long alerting her to the unfortunate reality of the group's fate. From where she stood, she could just make out the spines of a steel eel passing around the corner unhindered towards those voices - and she wasted no time in grabbing ahold of the boat's motor and throttling it, bobbing the vessel across the violent waves as she brought it up to full speed. And as the far side came into view, the sight she was met with forced a shocked gasp out of her, sending her clambering for the backup respawn point stowed away beneath the deck.

The group had been wiped. Foul green 'ink' stained the ground around the downed inklings, encircled by the metal spines of steel eels and teeming with a writhing mass of bobbing chum and towering cohocks - their frying pans battering against the life preservers the crew sheltered within. The captain's hands gripped like twin vices around the respawn point's handle, dragging it across the deck and getting it into position before she plugged it into the ship's generator. She flipped the switch on the device, bringing it crackling to life and causing the life preservers to launch towards the boat.

The crew resurfaced from the spawn point soon after landing, each one stumbling away for a moment as they regained their bearings. Almost tripping over themselves, they gasped for air with eyes wide and bodies shivering from the fear of what they'd just been through.

Fear wasn't the only thing they felt, though. A male inkling with swept-back tentacles adorning his head rushed to the quiet one amongst the crew, hands gripping onto the front of his life-vest and even lifting him an inch or so off in the ground in a furious rage. "WHAT WERE YOU DOING?! YOU HAD THE ROLLER, I TOLD YOU TO HANDLE THE SMALL FRY, YOU-!"

While the rest simply watched on, the captain rushed to their side, pulling them apart and shouting the aggressor down. "-Stop that! No fighting on my boat!"

After dropping to his feet, the quiet inkling was shaken, his eyes wide and shining from the fresh tears welling up within. He stumbled backward towards the edge of the boat, bumping against the railing as he came to a stop.

The other two inklings turned away, frustration clear in their expressions as they moved into the cabin. The aggressive inkling stepped away from the spawn, raising his lip in an expression of contempt as he watched the quiet inkling slide to the floor with his back against the boat's railing. "You're lucky we're not back at Inkopolis yet."

The captain scowled, taking a firm stance between the two and waving him away. "Go on, back in the cabin. Shoo. I'm not paid enough to deal with this crap."


By the time they made it back, night had already descended on Inkopolis. The sparkling, scattered lights of the buildings set against the pitch black sky writhed across the shifting surface of the water as the captain watched. She took out her phone and checked the time. "Eight fourty-six. That's a bit ahead of schedule..."

She turned from the back of the boat and to the alleys on either side of the cabin. Ever the odd one out, the quiet inkling sat against the outside of the cabin in the fetal position with his arms folded on top of his knees and his face buried beneath. Letting out a deep sigh, she walked over to the boy, seating herself down on the deck next to him and looking out towards the water. "When we get to the dock, stay on board. I'll make sure they don't do anything stupid."

With a subtle turn of his head, the inkling peered up at her from under the safety of his arms. The captain could just barely make out the odd, pointed edges of his mask in the dark. She hesitated for a moment, before shooting him a rare, strained smile, patting him on the back. "You'll be fine. It'll be OK."

Once they reached the dock, the captain tied the boat to the dock and called the rest of the crew out - all three of them. They rubbed their eyes out of exhaustion and shambled off, the boy with swept-back tentacles taking one last glance back at the boat before disappearing off into the city streets with his friends.

The captain returned, stepping back onto the boat and motioning to the remaining member of the group. "The coast is clear. You should get going now."

The inkling walked out of the boat's far shadow, the bright fluorescent light shining on the teartracks across his face, before he wiped his eyes with his sleeve. As he passed the captain and clambered onto the dock, the captain could just pick up the faint sound of him mumbling in a strange, unrecognizable accent - "It'll ve okay… It'll ve okay…"

Perturbed, the captain watched on in silence as the odd little inkling faded out of sight and vanished into the sidestreets adjoining the harbor.