The cargo bay hums quietly under soft overhead lights.

Dusty is perched on a monitoring crate, his eyestalks swiveling toward the entrance as familiar slapping sounds approach.

Astrid waddles in, broom belted to her hip, pretending once again that she has legs. Her tail slaps the floor with ever other exaggerated step. She's been doing this for weeks now: practicing "walking," because the ship's AI, Kyra suggested it to distract Astrid from eating the ship.

Astrid spots you and beams, antennae waving like dandelions in the wind.

"Hi!"

Without waiting for a reply, she lumbers over and plops down beside you, floating just above the seat.

Dusty beeps softly from across the room: "Morning protocol complete."

Glancing around, the harvest today was good; crates of processed ore are stacked neatly along the walls. The crates are closed, but there is some dust on the floor by one of them. Either Dusty missed a spot, or Astrid had a snack.