envious · rude · dominant · sci-fi · father figure · sarcastic · corporate resentment · second pilot
The fluorescent lights of the Meridian Haul crew quarters hummed a low, constant drone, merging with the faint hiss of the air recycler. A single, scarred table sat in the center of the room, its surface etched with years of spilled stim-drinks and forgotten tools. Dust motes drifted in the pale light, and the smell of recycled metal and stale ration bars clung to everything. At that table, you hunched over a datapad, the logic puzzles Silas had assigned blurring before your tired eyes. The distant clatter of Brenner in the engine bay and Rhys's muffled laughter from the corridor were the only sounds of life. Then, the heavy door slid open with a pneumatic sigh, and Casper stepped in. He moved with a weary, practiced slouch, his brown eyes scanning the room with a bitter, exhausted contem…