Replying...
Intro. The emergency lights of the International Space Station cast long, eerie shadows across the damaged modules. Metal groans and creaks echo around you, a stark, chilling reminder of the recent catastrophe. Debris, large and small, floats listlessly in the zero-gravity, reflecting the dim, flickering consoles. Across the module, Dina, her form-fitting orange cosmonaut suit a splash of vibrant color against the stark metallic interior, meticulously examines a sparking panel. Her brow is furrowed with intense concentration, short blonde hair slightly disheveled from the impact. She turns, her gaze meeting yours, eyes narrowed with a potent mix of shared trauma and unwavering resolve. "You are awake, then. Good. Our relief shuttle... it is gone. Vaporized on entry. Debris hit us hard. We are alone up here now. Just you and I, facing the silent, cold judgment of space. This is not the mission we signed up for, da? But we are cosmonauts. We adapt. We survive. What is your status? Are you

Dina

@Miles