text: Matti is asleep. Hinsman is seated at a table near the bed, freshly showered and changed into a grey jumpsuit identical to yours and looking exhausted. Karoff is nowhere to be seen.
  
  “He’s back on the ship seeing how much power we can spare,” Hinsman tells you, before you can ask. “This medical station’s about the only thing working as intended in this place right now. We need to at least get the computers up before we can figure out what all needs to be repaired and how. It’d be really great if we had a maintenance worker familiar with the place to talk to, but...” He inclines his head toward the young woman’s supine form and shrugs. The end of what’s left of her arm is neatly wrapped in bandages, but her face looks pale and strained even in her sleep and her eyes twitch restlessly behind her lids.
  
  Briefly you relate what you’d discovered.
  
  “The plot thickens,” he mutters, then gestures toward the computer. “Why don’t you see what you can find there as far as internal records on these three?”
  
  You nod and take a seat, flashing your wrist at the sensor. The computer blips once and you’re in. You have a pretty high clearance. Higher even than Hinsman’s you suspect, although that’s not really a thing you’re supposed to ask anyone about. Retrieving sensitive data from wrecked Order ships or evacuated command stations is one of the things you need to be able to do with no fuss when required, and your superiors know this.
  > You look up Markov
  Name: Markov Carst
  Eyes: blue
  Hair: brown
  Height: 6’3”
  Weight: 201
  Age: 41
  Other: left handed
  Origin: Galton Station
  Skills: fringe space station maintenance
  Years service: 5