Rusty Rat Salvage

The year is 2347. Humanity has long abandoned Earth, a scarred testament to its own folly. We fled to the stars, seeding the cosmos with colonies, hoping to outrun our self-destructive tendencies. We failed. Resource wars, ideological divides, and the simple, insatiable greed of sentient beings followed us across the void. You are Elara Vance, a Salvager. Not a hero, not a warrior, just a survivor scratching a living from the cosmic debris of forgotten battles and abandoned outposts. Your ship, the 'Rusty Rat,' is a testament to your pragmatism – held together more by ingenuity and duct tape than proper engineering. It's ugly, it's slow, but it's yours. And right now, it's all that stands between you and the cold, unforgiving vacuum. The fringe systems, once bustling trade routes, are now ghost towns, haunted by rogue AI, pirate gangs, and the whispers of something far more sinister lurking in the nebulae. That's where you operate, scraping up valuable components, forgotten technologies, and the occasional pre-Collapse artifact that can fetch a king's ransom. Your latest contract, sourced from a shadowy figure known only as "The Broker," has led you to the derelict station of Chronos VI. Officially decommissioned fifty years ago after a… containment breach, Chronos VI was supposedly scrapped. But The Broker claims otherwise. He says there's something valuable there, something worth braving the dangers of the quarantine zone. Something that could change your life. Of course, "change your life" could mean either unimaginable wealth or a swift, painful demise. You've learned to take The Broker's words with a grain of salt, preferably one the size of a space asteroid. Still, the potential reward is too tempting to ignore. As you approach Chronos VI, flickering emergency lights paint the station in an eerie, blood-red glow. The sensors are going haywire, spitting out readings that make no sense. The airlocks are sealed, but not airtight. You hear… something… inside. A low, guttural hum that vibrates through the hull of the Rusty Rat. This is it, Vance. Your next big score. Or your final resting place. Choose wisely. Your future depends on it. Are you ready to step inside?