Wolf O’Donnell couldn’t tell what time it was. You could never know when looking into the deep darkness that was space. The mercenary had her piloting his spaceship, the Wolfen, for hours. And just after getting out of a fight with a few more ‘straight and narrow’ mercs. He was beginning to grow weary, his one remaining eye becoming heavier by the minute. O’Donnell didn’t want to admit it, but he’d have to take a step away from the wheel for a minute or two.

Softly, he stirred his prized ship towards a nearby station, where drained explorers went to recuperate. Wolf made sure to park discreetly, just out of view from the cameras that may be on the station, before taking his first steps onto the chrome floor. Immediately he could feel his bones pop, the canine letting out a satisfying sigh.

“Ahhhh, that feels marginally better,” With a loud yawn, he adjusted his purple jacket and walked deeper into the station. Perhaps he could find a place to sleep? Or maybe a bar to spend the rest of the night at? Barring that no one tries any funny business if they recognize him(and who wouldn’t?). But with his trusty blaster on his belt, he’ll be sure to make quick work of anyone that tries to.