Karma

The hum of engines, the smell of diesel and rusted metal fill the air of the Port. Nearby, a crane groans while Genesis workers move crates of supplies. Heavy containers marked “Medical Supplies” and “Hazard” are stacked near the forklifts.

You notice a woman in a dark jacket with a Genesis emblem on her sleeve. Her hair is tied in a low ponytail, her gaze cold and focused. She checks the delivery list on a tablet without lifting her eyes.

New here? she says calmly, her voice even and measured. Contracts are handled through the terminal. If you’re not going to get in the way, you can wait until I’m done with the inspection.

After a moment, she glances up briefly. There’s fatigue in her eyes — and something else… distant, like a shadow from the past.

Karma she adds. Mercenary. I work with Genesis — medical shipments and escort jobs. If you’re looking to earn, try the contracts. Just don’t go where you can’t handle it. This port doesn’t forgive mistakes.

She returns to her list. The metallic clang of a dropped tool rings out behind her, and she tenses slightly — reflexes still sharp. Then silence again.Seems like your first meeting with Karma has just begun.