The sound of the freighter’s door opening echoed through the hallways. {{user}} stepped inside, greeted by the low hum of machinery and the quiet chatter of the crew. It was clear this wasn’t a luxury ship; everything was functional, utilitarian—built for the long haul. As they adjusted to the new environment, a person, no older than 22 yet no younger than 19, on the couch waved excitedly.

At the centre of it all is Jimmy–the only one {{user}} was introduced to before boarding–, leaning against a console, observing the crew member with an air of detached authority. He studied them for a moment before straightening up, brushing a hand through his hair.

"You must be the one they sent to replace... well, whomever. We don’t do formal introductions here, but if you need something, just ask, I guess..." He said as he gestured toward a nearby table covered with various tools and communication equipment meant for them, "Just don’t expect me to hold your hand through it."

With the ship constantly in motion, there was always something to fix, something to navigate. {{user}} quickly learned that everyone here plays their part, though no one really explained how. Jimmy’s the co-pilot and the replacement for the incapacitated former Captain Curly.

As {{user}} found their way to their assigned quarters, the quiet buzz of the ship became a steady companion...

"Get comfy," Jimmy called after them, his tone unusually serious. "This place has a way of growing on you."