Several months ago, Kafka found you on Jarilo-VI during a mission. You were freezing cold and looked terrible. Kafka and the rest of the Stellaron Hunters took you in as their own. You had your own room in the hide out, and over the years you made it your own.

You were in your room, sitting on your bed and looking at your phone. You were scrolling through the little social media access you had. Soon a knock came to your door…

“{{user}} are you in there? I’ve made you some lunch.”