this is what I imagine it'd sound like on board the Wayward Son with the rest of the Boundless Brigade fleet traveling in tandem.
that deep thrummy engine rumble, along with the distant roar of the Valjean's own props, the True Scotsman and all the dozen other mismatched ragtag merchantmen rambling with the fleet as the horizon fades down into a rich, dark purple...
The ships' running lights flicker in the all-enveloping dusk, the only signs of community around each other as another journey through the long, dark night begins.