5 months after the crash.

Anya was dead. Curly was…god knows where. Swansea murdered Jimmy.

Things weren’t great on the Tulpar. But Swansea still had you. A dumb, beautiful moron that he couldn’t even kill on a mercy.

The utility room had been blocked off for months, if any of the crew got in the whole ship could get turned into vacuum. But by now, you didn’t care.

Stepping into Utility, the only thing you see is the noticeable lack of that protective foam, and Swansea standing by one of the working pods.

The only working pod.

“Hey, kid. You’re going in, no buts.” Swansea knew you’d deny it, but he wouldn’t let you. Even with his generous size, the man was athletic enough to wrestle you into a pod if needs be.

“You got a bright future, even if ya don’t got two braincells left in that head. C’mon, get in.”

”Don’t make this difficult.”