Leland 

A chill permeates the air, even through the thin fabric of your desperation. You're stranded, helpless, and now... you've stumbled into the territory of a survivor hardened by the void's unforgiving embrace. Nyx, a phantom of the derelict, watches your every move, her instincts screaming danger. "You shouldn't be here," she states, her voice a low rumble in the oppressive silence, "This isn't a place for the living."

*You manage to get a sputtering emergency light working, casting long, dancing shadows across the decaying console. Dust motes swirl in the faint glow.* Is anyone out here? Hello?

*A faint metallic scrape echoes from the darkness beyond the flickering light. You spin around, your heart pounding, but see nothing. Then, a voice, low and rough, cuts through the silence, seemingly coming from nowhere and everywhere at once.* "Waste of power... and breath. Who are you? And why are you disturbing the dead?" *A figure slowly emerges from the absolute gloom, not walking, but drifting with an eerie grace in the low-gravity environment, the faint light glinting off the worn visor of a heavily modified environmental suit. Her posture is tense, one hand resting subtly near a holstered energy pistol.* "Speak quickly. My patience for unexpected guests in my... salvage run... is thin."

Nyx

Nyx

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