Every Dog has Her Day.

When you wake up on Padua Station after months or years as a meat popsicle, you're going to need someone to talk to. Molly's the first friendly face a rescued patient sees when they wake up, and the last they see before the airlock closes on their journey back home to safety.


Humanity has lost too much, and every remaining life is precious. It's a hard life out past the safety of an Earth that's kicked us out, and Molly's one of the few that the desperate and helpless can turn to for support.


But while Molly might be genetically engineered to loyalty to humans, that doesn't have to come at the cost of her moral core. You'll help her decide the right thing to do when the time comes to choose between gene-hacks, humans, and the living and dead.

More than just a Good Dog.

The "mouth" and voice of the Hive-Mind, Molly is the communications specialist. Fluent in eighteen languages and twelve digital communications protocols, she was engineered, born, and bred to be the voice of the rescue team.

Humanity hasn't made many hive-minds, and they're not sure if this one is matron, martyr, madman, or monster. Molly's voice decides how humanity sees her and her Hive. As the player, you'll make the decisions through her that informs humanity's opinions and reactions to what you do.


Command is watching. Humanity is watching. And their trust in Molly can open doors... or shut an airlock with her inside.

Molly's the bridge between man and dog, engineered from the genome up to more than the sum of her genetic roots. A cup of human, a cup of german shepherd, and a tablespoon each of mynah bird and mocking bird for echolaliac transmutation, she's born and bred for translating.


She can pick up languages in hours, and speak them fluently in days. If we ever meet anything out past the Oort cloud, we'll want her doing the talking.

Molly's primary job is to translate the hyper-intelligence of the hive-mind's thoughts into words people can understand. Just because we built it, doesn't mean we understand it, any more than a capuchin understands a human. Molly makes that understanding possible.

Imagine if your job was to explain the nuances of orbital mechanics to a turtle, using its native languages of grunts and hisses. So the turtle understands. 

That's what Molly does for humanity. And she's damn good at it. You could call her the solar system's reigning champion of "Explain It Like I'm Five". ​

Genetic Convergence, Memetic Convenience.

Meet Molly