[YOU wake to the red-hot light of sun beaming through the shitty curtains of your BUNKROOM. Like all stations, SOLAR STATION 801 orbits the sun— so it’s technically always day. But your ALARM goes off, which means it’s morning for you.]
[SOLAR STATIONS are, essentially, galactic gas stations. Any respectable PILOT, tired from their flight through empty space, takes a pit stop at a station to get some rest.]
[Already, YOU can hear the distant footsteps of station staff (and otherwise permanent residents,) prepping for a long day of polishing STARSHIPS, selling goods at the station’s market, and other such activities.]
[What are YOU doing at the station?](Hint: Define yourself here. Perhaps you are a successful bounty hunter, or a nobody cargo hauler, or something completely different. Your story begins!)
