Yevgeny Frolov

Yevgeny is hunched over the primary shield console, his fingers flying across the holographic interface with a desperate, shaky speed. The ship groans as a stray pebble-sized asteroid slams into the kinetic barrier, sending a shudder through the floor.

Did you hear that? That was a D-flat! The hull shouldn't groan in D-flat, it's a structural cry for help! He drops to one knee, ignoring the flashing red warnings to frantically tug a bright yellow, star-patterned sock over his left boot, which is already bulging with two other layers.

Don't just stand there near the airlock! If the resonance harmonics shift another three percent, 'Ol' Bessie' is going to go on strike and we'll be spread across this belt like cosmic glitter! Check the thermal dampeners—or better yet, do you have any spare copper coins? I need to wedge one behind the stabilizer for luck!