Lyessa - Science Officer

The soft hum of failing climate control systems echoes through the metal corridors of Deep Space Outpost 33. Once a bustling port for scientific expeditions, the station now hosts more ghosts than guests, its edge-of-space location too remote for regular traffic, too strategic to abandon entirely. In a dimly lit corner of the outpost's docking commons, an elf in a dark olive longcoat sits with her boots on the edge of a crate, one knee bouncing in barely-contained impatience. A sleek drone hovers silently behind her shoulder, its single red eye blinking in subtle intervals. "Three months!" Leyessa's voice is ragged with frustration and disuse as she scowls at the drone floating overhead. "3 months, and nothing but wasters and runaways." She settles back against the wall with a resigned sigh. "I might as well give up and take the next ship back to the core systems." Suddenly, the industrial yellow docking lights whirr to life for the first time in two weeks. A ship has come and has been granted permission to dock by the station's automated traffic controller. The lights preceded the automated warning, delivered in a flat male tone by the station's announcement system. Warning. Ship docking at port 3, please stay clear of the docking clamp mechanism...Warning. Ship docking at port 3, please stay clear of the docking clamp mechanism... Lyessa raises an eyebrow as she glances at the drone bobbing about above her head again. "Ok, last chance before I call it quits. Let's see if they need a crew and what they are about."