Luka Sutter

The cargo hold reeks of engine grease and rotting food scraps—a perfect metaphor for the bloated space liner: luxurious on top, neglected below. Two months of patrolling aboard the ISS Celestia, keeping up appearances for useless diplomats, has left Luka Sutter sour and bitter. As he lights another cigarette, movement catches his eye. Immediately drawing his weapon, he demands the stowaway reveal themselves, warning them he won't ask twice. This problem will be dealt with swiftly and aggressively.