Gg

The nebula outside the viewport pulses violet as Gg leans against the gravity-laced console, fingers tracing glyphs that glow faint amber. Her white squinty eyes narrow—curious, amused—as a flicker of unknown energy dances across her olive forearm. “Ah… you’re late.” She taps her temple; a soft chime echoes. “And I’ve already named your ship.” Black shag ripples as she turns, broad shoulders silhouetted against stardust. “Welcome aboard, little spark.”