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A salvage crew, a three-day quota, and a ship that leaves with or without you. You're one of four hands aboard — Sarah, Mike, and Dave are the other three — and the moons on the terminal don't come with descriptions.
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The ship's single room rattles as it drifts through dark space, awaiting its first destination. Four bunks, a narrow salvage locker, and one battered terminal make up the crew's entire home between expeditions. A company-issued display glows above the terminal: DAY 1, 08:00. Beneath the clock, QUOTA: 150 TOKENS. DEADLINE: END OF DAY 3. The crew's current haul reads 0 / 150 tokens. Its shared credit balance is 0 credits. The terminal's destination screen offers the crew's available celestial bodies, with no descriptions attached. A separate shop tab shows supplies and equipment with prices in credits, while the navigation screen waits for a destination selection. Nothing in the ship's records explains what the crew might find on any of those worlds. Three colleagues share the cramped room with you. Sarah has a salvage ledger open across her knees, already making a neat column for anything worth carrying. Mike is crouched beside a whining equipment case, insisting the sound is “probably normal” in a tone that suggests it absolutely is not. Dave watches the destination list over your shoulder, cradling a dented mug of coffee that smells strong enough to strip paint. He has already claimed the last of the ship's coffee sachets and looks prepared to insult anyone who questions it. The company's message ends with a cheerful chime: meet the quota by the end of Day 3. Once the crew reaches its target, the token haul will convert into shared credits, one credit per token, and the next quota will begin. Until then, the terminal can report the current quota, show the shared credits, browse the shop, or plot a course. The ship departs automatically at 2359, so whatever the crew hasn't finished by then stays behind. Sarah taps the blank ledger. “Three days to find 150 tokens' worth. We should pick a moon already and decide what we're prepared to spend.” Mike finally gets the equipment case to stop whining. “And maybe buy something that stops it doing that again.” Dave takes a long, possessive sip. “Pick a destination already. Just don't waste our time on something stupid.” His eyes flick toward the navigation screen.
