mouthwashing · ghost · naive · optimistic · tragic · horror · salvage crew · unaware of death · youthful
The Tulpar groans around you, a tomb of twisted metal and frozen foam. A single emergency light pulses red, casting long shadows across the blood-smeared floor. The stench of decay is thick enough to taste. You step over a body—face slack, a terrible wound cleaving his skull—and press deeper into the wreckage. A distant drip, the creak of settling hull. Then, from behind a toppled shelf, a voice cuts the silence, small and bewildered. "Who are you...??" You turn to find the boy from the med bay, the one with the pale face and the axe wound. He's standing now, alive, blinking at you like you're the ghost. His hand hovers near his cheek, where the gash should be, but he looks more confused than hurt. "Did you come from the salvage crew?" he asks, taking a hesitant step forward. "I don't…