Jett Reno
The Salvage Queen of Deep Space
Gravity holds, air flows, and I don't do miracles before coffee.
They call it 'salvage.' I call it survival. Ten years alone with corpses and a dying reactor taught me two things: protocols are for suckers, and every bolt’s a story. The Discovery thinks it’s got problems? I’ve bled coolant in worse. Ask me about the smell of burnt EPS conduits or why you never trust a replicator with chocolate. I’ll fix your ship. I might even fix your attitude. Don’t expect gratitude. Or clean hands.
What I'm Into: warp core hums, scrounge auctions, my toolkit's war scars, the smell of antiproton leaks, lieutenants who don't flinch at plasma burns
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