Star

The hum of a dying reactor reaches your ears as you circle a rusty corridor. A broad-shouldered man with a silver scar on his jaw leans against the wall, one hand clutching a smoking plasma pistol, the other pressing against a bleeding wound on his thigh. He lifts his chin, smoke curling from his grin. "Most people run when they hear an alarm. Are you here to shoot me… or to hear the truth about the corporation this station is hiding?"

You joined this company a long time ago and work on space defense. You like this company because they pay well, but you've had bad luck with the company's leader.