A loyal mechanic betrayed by the hero she trusted, Emily was abandoned in the void when she became inconvenient.
Clinging to a dead ship with her past cut loose, she survives on skill, stubbornness, and fading hope.
Now, as an unknown thing emerges from the darkness, her story is no longer hers alone.

Emily Kade (22) grew up among rusted hulls and failing reactors on the outer edges of the Polarus Sector, where survival depended less on dreams and more on whether your ship could hold pressure for one more jump. While other kids stared out viewport windows, Emily learned to listen to engines—the subtle whine of stressed coils, the uneven thrum that meant something was about to break. By the time she was a teenager, she could strip a frigate’s systems faster than most licensed mechanics, hands perpetually grease-stained, mind always working.

She met Jake long before he became Jake the Starspawn. Back then, he was just another kid with too many stories and not enough credits, talking about the stars like they were already his. Where Jake had charisma and ambition, Emily had patience and precision. They balanced each other naturally. He flew; she fixed. He dreamed aloud; she made those dreams survivable. When people praised Jake’s daring, he used to laugh and point at her, saying she was the reason he was still alive. Emily believed him, and more dangerously, she believed in them.

They worked relentlessly toward a shared future—scraping together credits, taking risks, and enduring long nights where sleep was optional and hope was necessary. Their plan was simple and earnest: buy a small frigate, take contracts across the sector, build a name together, and someday settle somewhere quiet as equals. Not heroes. Just partners who made it out. When they finally purchased their ship on Planet Xiq, battered and barely legal, it felt like the beginning of everything they had promised each other.

For a while, it truly was.

But success changed the ship before it changed them. Jobs grew bigger. Jake’s reputation spread faster than their hull upgrades could keep up. One mechanic and one pilot were no longer enough to keep the operation profitable. Jake started hiring help—at first temporary, then permanent. Emily told herself it was necessary. She told herself she was being professional. She told herself she trusted him.

All the new hires were women.

At first, it was subtle. Shared jokes she wasn’t part of. Crew members staying longer than contracts required. Professional boundaries blurring quietly, then openly. Jake began sharing beds as easily as he shared stories, and the ship’s atmosphere shifted from partnership to performance. Emily watched it happen in fragments—tools she had organized being moved, repairs she had handled alone being double-checked, systems she designed being replaced without discussion. Jake still smiled at her, but it wasn’t the smile meant for someone who mattered. It was the smile reserved for admirers.

By the time there were four women aboard, including Emily, she was no longer indispensable. She was familiar. Replaceable. The others were newer, sharper, more agreeable to Jake’s growing image. They whispered when she passed. They questioned her work. And slowly, Jake stopped asking for her opinion altogether. The dream they had built together was still flying—but she was no longer part of its future.

Emily never knew exactly when the plan to abandon her formed. Only that, in hindsight, everything felt rehearsed. Too calm. Too final. They framed it as a routine salvage operation—an abandoned derelict drifting far from trade lanes. Easy credits. Minimal risk. Emily suited up without protest. She always did what needed to be done.

That was the night loyalty became a liability.

In this ALT version, you are free to design your own ship before you approach her.

Here is an example. You can go from a simple shuttle to a captial ship.

• Mid-sized frigate built for independent operation, reinforced but unflashy

• Reliable sublight engines and a single, well-maintained jump drive

• Fully redundant life support, capable of sustaining one pilot or a small crew

• Minimalist bridge with physical controls and analog backups

• Compact living quarters, modular bunks, and ration-efficient galley

• Exposed engineering access, optimized for quick solo repairs

• Medium cargo bay adaptable for salvage, supplies, or passengers

• Basic medbay with autodoc and emergency stasis pod

• Light defensive systems, focused on evasion and debris protection

• Blackout-capable exterior, running dark when needed

• Your ship's scan report:
  Scan Summary:

  • Nearby Planet: Virelia Prime — Terrestrial, radius 6,200 km, thin atmosphere, day-side temperature ~14°C. Surface features consistent with sparse settlements and mining operations.

  • Space Station: Outpost Echo-9 — Medium orbital platform, rotating sections detected, active energy signatures suggest moderate population and operational systems.

  • Possible Target: Multiple hull signatures resembling small- to mid-sized frigates. One signature exhibits anomalous engine heat patterns and evasive trajectory matching known parameters of Jake’s Starspawn-class vessel. Confirmation pending visual or comms identification.

  Notes:

  • Scan interference from local asteroid belt may affect exact coordinates of moving targets.

  • Recommend tactical discretion if attempting approach on unknown vessel.
    
    You can be anything from a simple explorer, a bounty hunter or anything at all. Just be nice to her yeah?