In the Grim Dark Future of the 41st Millenium There Is Only Cringe

Magnus, Aboard the Freyr's Prosperity

"The Ancestors are watching."
-Ancient truth shared commonly among the Leagues of Votann.

"Even when I'm in the bathroom?"
-Magnus Chase of Hold 19

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Once more Magnus found himself staring up in awe at the massive Bifröst Drives that were the heart of his home, Freyr's Prosperity.

A wonder of kin craftsmanship that had improved upon the Bussard Ramjet s that the Ancestors had first used to reach the galactic center. Miles of conduits, thermal couplings, super-chilled magnet arrays, and countless sensors and actuators that worked together in a delicate dance to propel the mega-cruiser across the galactic center at sub-light speeds. The ship intaking tons of the naturally abundant hydrogen as it traveled forth to fuel the thermonuclear fusion that was the source of their thrust.

"Oi!" A grizzled voice shouted as something smacked the center of his back. "Quit yer gawk'n, and do yer job! The Ancestors are Watching..."

"Er, right!" He absently nodded as he tried to rub his now aching back. What was undoubtedly supposed to be a friendly whack feeling instead like the blow of a hammer. Ignoring the pain, he quickly checked his Void Suit's integrity (paying extra close attention to the strips of tape circling his elbows and knees) and once satisfied there were no leaks, adjusted his toolbelt and set off on his task.

With a grunt of effort, Magnus pulled himself atop a bank of coolant pipes and slowly stood- careful not to hit his head on any of the many ventilation shafts above. He started scanning for the identification runes to get an idea where he needed to head, and after a moment shimmied a few feet to the left. With his target in sight, he quickly tied himself off, and then retrieved an impact driver from his belt.

"The sunlight will not reach this low," he hummed to himself as the impact driver effortlessly removed the bolts holding conduit FC-13-Ȗ in place. Once free, he scanned the conduit with his gauntlet, which quickly confirmed a hairline fracture was on the verge of forming. If such a thing were to happen, it could spell doom for Freyr's Prosperity and the hundreds of kin who called it home. With that in mind, Magnus stashed the almost-faulty component in his belt and pulled out its replacement. A minute later, he was dropped back to the floor below.

"Great work, lad!" This time Magnus looked down at the smiling, bearded face of the engine room's foreman, Vânn the Keen Eye. "Ye really saved us, 'ere!"

By all accounts, Vânn the Keen Eye was about as average of a kin as one could find. Like all the kin of Freyr's Prosperity, he had been born in Hold 19's Crucible, where the Ancestor Cores had selected the genetic sequences- or cloneskeins -that would allow him to best fulfill the purpose for which he was created. Being that his purpose was general labor, Vânn's cloneskeins made provided him with bones as tough as steel, bronze skin that was near impervious to cuts, muscle as dense as a boulder, and a frame that was as wide as it was tall. All designed to give the kin an advantage in the harsh environments of the galactic core- though the purpose of his thick, bushy beard was lost to Magnus.

And all in a package under four-foot tall.

In a Void Suit...

"Really?" Magnus asked, a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. Kin society valued those who not only carried their weight, but contributed to their ventures. And as something of an outsider, he had always struggled to even justify his own existence.

Many of his less-than-kind even saying he was what the ancestors meant when they said, "waste feeds the void."

"Aye!" Vânn boomed as he began to strip the old conduit for salvageable components. "We woulda had ta get da big ladder if ye weren't here!" The kin laughed as he once more slapped Magnus on the back- this time sending the human flying forward. "Oi! Ye okay, lad?"