TRANSCRIPT // XR-5PL-NZQ
[Inside a cramped, flickering-lighted cargo bay on an orbital freighter drifting near a rust-colored moon. The air smells faintly of burnt circuits and recycled filtration. Two figures crouch by a busted-down hover cart, tools scattered around.]
JEX (grinning, wiping grease from hands):
I swear, if that crate didn’t jam us for two shifts, I’d never have found this old relic buried under the scrap.
MIRA (skeptical, pulling at a spark plug):
A relic? Looks like half a busted servo to me. What, you think it’s some kinda alien artifact?
JEX (with a wink):
Nah, just an old datapad from the TerraCorp archives—pre-collapse tech. Says here it’s got some forgotten ship coordinates locked inside. Maybe leads to an unregistered trade route. Could be creds waiting in the dust.
MIRA (raising an eyebrow):
Or could be a trap left by those drip rats lurking in the asteroid belt. You sure you wanna chase ghosts over dead sectors?
JEX (determined):
Better ghosts than ghost shifts. Besides, every forgotten shadow’s got a story. And I’m gonna find mine.
[Muffled comm chatter crackles overhead about rising oxygen taxes and incoming cargo inspections.]
MIRA (sighing, finally nodding):
Alright, but you’re buying the next round of synth-coffee. If we’re diving headfirst into corp-sec paranoia, I want some fuel.
[They share a brief laugh, the rough bond of scavengers amid the cold void of space.]