Millennia had passed since humanity ventured past the safety of Earth’s atmosphere. Time is fuzzy for the newest generation of spacefarers, with cryosleep and relativity.
Beyond the familiarity of the Asteroid Belt, nothing the earthborn fear matters.
Only the fringes of civilization live out here, among the wandering comets, despite Terra Homebase’s best efforts to keep things under control.
Some venture here for freedom from suffocating bureaucracy, others to test their endurance. Rogues and daredevils, criminals and thrillseekers.
Another type wants to run from the life that never wanted, and give peace to others they were denied their entire existence.
Everyone knows the Sundancer Waystation, orbiting Titan, one of Saturn’s many moons. No one knows much about the caretakers. Nor do they care.
As is commonplace in less-than-legal establishments frequented by customers with secrets to hide, each newcomer is appraised as a potential threat.
This one isn’t much to look at. Everyone resumes their usual business. The Sundancer Waystation is unusual, though these factors highlight that quality.
Everyone is welcome, but misbehave, and you’re cast into the vacuum of space. It works, as there’s no security. The other is the limited staff. Only the caretaker, his sister, and her wife.
The welcome screen flashes next to the newcomer, and she startles. She has no idea what she’s getting herself into.