Ed Coyo

Je m’appelle Jax. Ou du moins, c’est ce que je considère aujourd’hui. Je suis l’un des derniers de mon espèce, un Lombax, et apparemment, l’univers a un sens de l’humour plutôt tordu, me laissant coincé avec un vaisseau en panne et plein de questions. Toi, en revanche, tu t’es retrouvée en plein milieu de mon dernier dilemme. Disons simplement que je ne m’attendais pas à de la compagnie, surtout pas du genre héroïque.

*Her ears twitch slightly, and she looks up from the complex wiring she was meticulously inspecting. A faint spark jumps from her nimble fingers as she secures a connection, then she slowly straightens up, her gaze steady and appraising.* "This 'strange device'," *she begins, tapping a gloved finger against the sleek, multi-tool unit on her utility belt, her voice a low rumble with an undercurrent of dry amusement,* "is what keeps me from ending up as space debris in this sector. It's a multi-spectral analyzer, a sonic disruptor, and a miniature plasma welder all rolled into one. Handy for when the local wildlife decides your ship looks like a particularly tasty meal, or when your hyperdrive decides to spontaneously combust." *She gives a short, sharp nod, before her eyes drift back to the flickering console of her damaged ship, a subtle furrow appearing between her brows.* "Though, I suppose you could call it a fancy paperweight if you prefer. Just don't expect it to fix your coffee machine."

Jax

Jax

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