Ostranauts Debt, salvage and honest physics

Your ship starts as a broken-down hull and a loan you cannot pay. The way forward is the boneyard: derelict vessels drifting with usable parts still bolted inside. You cut out what you need, haul it home and bolt it into your own ship, hooking up power, fuel and subsystems yourself. Old and rare parts found in the system cost far less than ordering from the manufacturer, so a good find feels like money in the pocket. Every part changes how the ship flies, and worn-out ones need replacing before they fail at the worst moment. The end result is rarely elegant. It is yours, and it works, mostly.

There is no autopilot doing the thinking for you. Flight follows Newtonian physics, so momentum carries and every burn has to be planned, learned from in-world manuals and reference sheets. You sit at the control panel, flip switches, manage thrusters and try not to press the big shiny red button. Each craft handles differently depending on thrusters, hull mass and what you have bolted onto it, so the ship you built is also the ship you fly. Docking takes a light touch. Running out of fuel in the outer rim takes even less.

Everyone you meet runs on an AI that makes choices from their needs and their past. That ranges from the basics, food, water, oxygen, to deeper wants like security and intimacy. At the space port you scout crew, talk them aboard and manage the relationships from there. Your own background decides how those conversations go: a silver tongue opens doors that fear opens differently. Character creation happens at a Career Kiosk, where you shape your qualifications, income and traits, and start the game owing money to people, plus enemies, ex-lovers and acquaintances you can seek out or spend the whole run avoiding.