August 1st, 2341
301 years after Terran Exodus
"Blackness. Infinite. Empty, more or less. The blindfold falls away and you're left breathless."
Jax's voice cut over the klaxons and the dull roar of the massive explosion in Sol Sigma-4's upper atmosphere. "Are you talking about space? Or-"
"No, I'm sure she's just composing the galaxy's worst Slam Poetry about the station we just blew up." Interjected MD, her engines straining against the planet's gravity in the background. "Nice work, Amber, by the way. Not poetry. The shot."
"Yeah, that was like military-grade drain declog-"
Amber switched off the radio in her helmet as she guided her patrol craft through the mass of debris falling to the planet's surface. The fire danced brilliantly across her visor as she took every piece in, memorizing every detail. As she pushed her craft to its limits, the engines barely rose above a whisper.
mm
Amber - Hotshot pilot with contempt for her own mortality. Stubborn, endangers herself and potentially others trying to feel anything.
MD - Class VIII Artificial Intelligence. Kind of a dick. Mean but protective of their flesh bags.
Jax - Captain who doesn't always understand that he needs to distance himself from the crew for effectiveness. Similar to MD, but the two constantly fight like divorced parents.
Tristan - Aussie Engineer/Doctor who jokes about Star Trek, which nobody else aboard understands. Nearly marooned for intoxication on duty, but now does his drugs in secret.
Glendax: Alien Heavy. The muscle, but they also built MD and helps Tristan with repairs. Running from something.
Rodney H. Preston IV: Insufferable quartermaster and armory supervisor. Hates everyone. A pretentious dick.