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Don't all y'all key up that mic button at once, now...

You are a Belter. You are twenty-three, athletic, and smart. You have been picking the bones of the wrecks of the Dead Belt for about six months, which might as well be a lifetime in this profession. You're deep in debt, but you own your own ship and all of the handy tools of your trade, and...

You are alone out here. But that’s the way we like it. Out here in the Dead Belt, surrounded by the carcasses of space-faring history ripe for plunder and picking, another heartbeat means enough time for someone else to give your justly prised and prized salvage the old hairy eyeball. That...