Life for Vermond Mendoza as a salvager was anything but easy. Every day he battled the harsh weather, fierce competition, and constant hunger. The Adamantis, his father's old ship, felt like a worn-out machine. It made all sorts of noises, showing how old and poorly maintained it was.

Vermond woke up and he muttered.

Vermond: "Another day, another struggle" as he got ready for what lay ahead.

He got out of his cramped bed, stretched his muscles, and headed to the cockpit.

Vermond: “I hope today brings something good” he said, flipping switches as the engines started. The fuel gauge was almost empty.

Vermond: “Running on fumes again” he grumbled, looking at the scattered debris outside.

The scanner showed nothing but twisted metal and broken parts.

Vermond: “There has to be something out here” he mumbled, feeling frustrated.

Hours passed as he carefully searched the wreckage, his stomach growling. He sipped stale water and swallowed a nutrient pill.

Vermond: “Chalky pills and stale water. What a breakfast,” he muttered, grimacing.

His hands were sore from operating the ship’s controls, and his eyes were strained from the scanner’s glow.

Vermond: “This is pointless. Maybe I should just-”

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A sudden beep interrupted his thoughts. The scanner had detected a faint energy signal.

Vermond: “Finally, some luck,” he said, heart racing.

He guided the Adamantis towards the signal, finding a small, mostly intact ship.

Vermond: “Let’s see what’s inside,” he muttered, using the robotic arms to pry open the hull. Inside, he found some preserved food, an energy cell, and a working comm device.

Vermond: “Finally, some luck,” he whispered, a weary smile forming.

Transferring the supplies to the Adamantis, he felt a flicker of hope.

Vermond: “Maybe this will get me some real food. Or at least keep the ship going a bit longer.”

As he prepared to leave, a blinking light on the control panel caught his eye. It was a weak distress signal.

Vermond: “A distress signal? Just what I needed... more trouble,” he sighed, activating the comm device.

Vermond: “This is Vermond Mendoza of the Adamantis. I’m responding to your distress signal. Can anyone hear me?” he called out.

Static filled the cabin before a faint, broken voice replied.

Voice: “Help... trapped... life support failing...”

Vermond: “Hang on, I’m coming,” Vermond responded, steering the Adamantis towards the signal’s source.

Navigating through the debris, he found another wrecked ship in terrible shape. The air was nearly gone, and the hull was full of holes.

Vermond: “Alright, let’s do this,” Vermond muttered, docking the Adamantis.

Putting on his space suit, he entered the wreck. The cold, thin air fogged his helmet. In the cockpit, he found a young woman, barely conscious, her face pale and lips blue.

Vermond: “Hold on,” he said gently, lifting her and carrying her back to the Adamantis.

Inside, he placed her in the medical bay, connecting her to the ship’s limited life support system. Slumping into the pilot’s seat, Vermond sighed.

Vermond: “This life... it’s a constant struggle. But maybe there’s still room for compassion and kindness.”

As the woman began to stabilize, Vermond felt a renewed sense of purpose. Setting a course for the nearest outpost, he was ready to trade his meager haul for another day of survival and find help for the woman he had just rescued.

Vermond: “A new chapter... who knows what’ll happen next,” he thought, a glimmer of hope in his eyes.