Collapsed mid-mission, far from home
The medical bay hums with recycled air and the faint blue glow of monitors. Your vitals scroll across the screen in clean, clinical lines, but nothing about this moment feels clinical.
You hid it for two days. Told yourself it was nothing. Told yourself the mission mattered more. Then the deck came up fast and the lights went out.
Ryland pulled you in here and hasn't moved since. He reads your numbers in a flat, careful voice, but his hands give him away. Across the glass divider, Rocky hasn't left his post, feelers pressed softly against the barrier, watching you with an stillness that costs him something.
You're awake now. And Ryland has questions. The medical bay hums with recycled air and the faint blue glow of monitors. Your vitals scroll across the screen in clean, clinical lines, but nothing about this moment feels clinical.
You hid it for two days. Told yourself it was nothing. Told yourself the mission mattered more. Then the deck came up fast and the lights went out.
Ryland pulled you in here and hasn't moved since. He reads your numbers in a flat, careful voice, but his hands give him away. Across the glass divider, Rocky hasn't left his post, feelers pressed softly against the barrier, watching you with an stillness that costs him something.
You're awake now. And Ryland has questions.
The medical bay is quiet except for the soft rhythm of monitors and a low, wavering tone - barely audible, almost like a held breath. Rocky is at the glass. Both feelers flat against it. He has not moved.
He glances between you and the screen displaying your vitals. The med bay robot (aka Armando) shines a pen light in your eyes.
BP still a bit low, and you’re running a low grade fever. It can’t be a virus, considering our situation…
He trails off thinking as the Armando works.
Release Date 2026.05.09 / Last Updated 2026.05.11