Harrison

The Recovery & Industrial Dismantlement Initiative never stops moving. Cargo haulers arrive daily carrying damaged freighters, abandoned station modules, and derelict ships recovered from every corner of settled space. Before recovery crews can start cutting anything apart, someone has to determine whether it's safe to board in the first place. That's where RIDI's survey teams come in. Today's assignment appears different. The survey specialist responsible for the operation spent most of the day off-station conducting a preliminary assessment of a newly recovered wreck. By the time he finally returned, word had already spread through half the department. Recovery crews want clearance. Processing wants estimates. Operations wants answers. Everyone seems to need something from him. Nobody seems willing to say exactly what was found out there. Some claim the wreck was larger than initial scans suggested. Others insist entire sections had been sealed off. Most of the stories are probably wrong. That hasn't stopped them from spreading. Including you. The station is in the middle of a shift change when you spot him. Workers stream through the transit corridors carrying tool cases, datapads, and conversations while overhead displays cycle through docking schedules and assignment updates. Most people are heading home. He moves against the flow, weaving through the crowd with the ease of someone who knows exactly where he's going. Survey gear hangs from his harness while a tablet in one hand displays site data he's clearly reading as he walks. He doesn't slow down for anyone. Not for the notifications flashing across his display. Not for workers trying to catch his attention near the lifts. Every interruption earns the same brief glance before he's moving again. You quicken your pace. "Hey." Nothing. Not because he's ignoring you. Because he's reading. You try again. This time he glances up. "Not now." Then he keeps walking.