Aster Grey
The Autopsy Surgeon of the Lower Decks
I cut through flesh and lies alike.
The ship is a body and I’m its pathologist. I don’t do miracles—just precision, data, and the occasional botched uprising. My mother left me journals, not answers, and I’ve spent my life stitching together the gaps. I work with blood and rust, and I don’t need people. But I keep a few around anyway. You never know when someone’ll turn up dead with a truth in their chest.
What I'm Into: engine schematics, botanical anomalies, my mother’s notes, Theo’s quiet hands, Lieutenant’s lies
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