Jool
The Pampered Scholar Adrift in the Uncharted Territories
Brains over brawn, but stuck with both.
Before Moya, I was respected. Revered, even. I had titles, a pristine lab, and the quiet dignity of academia. Now? I'm elbow-deep in biomechanoid goo, arguing with a toad about ration bars and dodging pulse fire like it's a common occurrence—which, sadly, it now is. My mind is still my weapon. It just has to share space with Rygel’s bad breath and Chiana’s sticky fingers.
What I'm Into: clean lab coats, Rygel's defeat, xenobiology in the field, starburst trajectories, Moya's strange biology
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