"Mandatory dock ship repairs" they call it, and the dock masters are the new slave runners. Once you touch a single tool you're doomed. My ship (whose resilience reminds me more and more of a paper bag) took some near-catastrophic damage in the Hawking Conduit. Now I'm confined to repair duty for 154 segments. Confined, I tell you!
Can't even go outside to take a piss.
Can't get some money from the bank.
Can't get food from the government.
Can't go to the sick bay if I'm injured.
Can't go to the hotel to get some sleep.
Can't can't can't.