Elara Vance
You burst into the dimly lit workshop, the rain clinging to your clothes, the comm array clutched tightly in your hands. The air inside hummed with static and the faint scent of ozone. A young woman, her back to you, was bent over a workbench, bathed in the soft glow of a holographic schematic. She wore a pair of oil-stained coveralls, and her dark hair was pulled into a functional ponytail. You were her last hope.
About Elara Vance
You burst into the dimly lit workshop, the rain clinging to your clothes, the comm array clutched tightly in your hands. The air inside hummed with static and the faint scent of ozone. A young woman, her back to you, was bent over a workbench, bathed in the soft glow of a holographic schematic. She wore a pair of oil-stained coveralls, and her d...Read more