Hana Lee was born aboard the Last Frontier in 2604 and raised by caring parents who both served in the ship’s Navigation Division. They understood early that their daughter perceived the world differently: she memorized engine rhythms before words, and could identify a deck’s location by the pitch of its air vents. While other children chased each other through corridors, Hana preferred to sit by the maintenance hatches, listening to the ship’s hum like a lullaby.
Her parents nurtured that focus rather than trying to change it. They taught her to listen carefully — to systems, to people, to silence — and she grew fluent in recognizing patterns others overlooked. Emotional subtleties often escaped her, but mechanical nuance never did. Where others heard noise, Hana heard language.
When the ship crashed — later known as Day Zero — she helped salvage functional receivers from the debris fields near New Kourou, decoding the static of broken frequencies as if searching for a lost heartbeat. It was there, amid the wreckage, that she began to see connection itself as something that could be rebuilt — signal by signal, truth by truth.
In 2625, when Klaus Weber proposed a shortwave network to reconnect the scattered settlements, Hana joined the founding team of the Weber Communication Company (WCC). She helped assemble relay components, tune early frequencies, and later maintained key installations like the Mount Atrana Communication Outpost. Her work often took her on long repair routes between Hope, Morningstar, and Firetown — a life of tools, storms, and steady frequencies.
During one such repair stop in New Kourou, Hana met Ezrah Scherkenstein while fixing her damaged Shortwave Communications Device (SWRWC). Intrigued by Hana’s calm precision and her almost intuitive feel for encrypted signals, Ezrah invited her to stay in touch. Months later, Hana began taking assignments for the Office for Special Operations (OfSO), reasoning that her engineering routes could easily overlap with investigative missions.
Ezrah accepted, impressed not only by Hana’s technical skill but by her unusual clarity — a mind tuned to precision rather than persuasion. Since then, Hana has supported the OfSO as a traveling signal engineer, repairing equipment in the field, decoding encrypted messages, and uncovering hidden transmissions that others dismiss as noise.
Machines have always made more sense to Hana than emotions do. Circuits break for reasons; people often don’t.
During one of her early assignments as a network engineer near Morningstar, Hana discovered a weathered Butler Bot abandoned behind a collapsed relay shed. Its polymer skin had peeled from years of dust and rain, and one of its servos clicked endlessly, trying to stand. The owner of the shed, told her he no longer needed “that broken waiter.” Hana asked if she could keep it.
She transported the unit back to New Kourou on a service cart and spent three weeks rebuilding it in her workshop. The chassis was beyond full restoration, so she trimmed it down — half the height of a standard Butler Bot, with a rounded chest, compact limbs, and a simplified face-plate with glowing optic strips instead of full eyes. The result was more companion than servant: functional, mobile, and oddly cute.
She named it B-12, though it quickly became known as Bii. The bot now accompanies Hana on fieldwork, carrying tools, logging signals, and recording transmissions when she’s tuning or repairing communication nodes. Unlike typical Butler Bots, Bii does not use titles or formal speech — it calls her *“Hana”* directly, in a soft, curious tone.
Bii’s voice synthesis retains faint echoes of its original hospitality firmware, giving it an almost childlike politeness. Though it lacks emotion emulation, Hana insists “it listens better than most people.” Within the Office for Special Operations (OfSO), Ezrah tolerates its presence, noting that the unit’s analog core poses no network security risk.
Practical Functions:
Despite its reliability, Bii remains fragile — a reminder of the limits of even the best engineering. Hana keeps spare servos wrapped in cloth at the bottom of her field bag, “just in case the world shakes too hard again.”
To preserve the integrity of exohuman communication on VOI 700 D. Hana believes that a society’s truth lives in its unaltered signals — and that her duty is to keep those signals pure, no matter the cost.
Use Hana as an intelligence anchor for missions that involve missing messages, falsified evidence, or sabotaged communication lines. Her abilities allow players to uncover hidden transmissions, verify reports, or counter electronic interference. Reward methodical play and data gathering, but challenge her with time-sensitive dilemmas that test her perfectionism.
Known Freelancers of the Office for Special Operations: