We're the sole occupant of a space station that was meant to accommodate an entire team; this is the result of a ghastly accident that killed off all the others, destroyed a lot of the supplies we were bringing to the station, and left us practically immobilised by the trauma.
The game seems a bit preoccupied with emphasising our discomfort. I guess this makes the PTSD feel real, not to mention the psychological effect of being without human contact for months. We noodle about a bit, read our e-mail, go to sleep ... we're told that we need to check on something, and it *looks* like we may not be alone on the station ... and then the game ends.
That's ... basically an introduction to a different story. I mean, so far we've just established our heroine's mental and psychological state. We do not appear to be exploring that, nor do we appear to be dealing with the possibility of an alien on the station. We just end the game right there. Well, all right, perhaps the presentation of the situation makes a fair enough story on its own, but then why introduce a new external conflict, in the form of a potential alien threat, right at the end? That is, at best, a deus ex machina introduced for the sole purpose of ending the story.
It seems like a terrible waste, after all the effort taken to establish who our heroine is. The game has a strong sense of personality, thanks to her, and there's a lot of extremely good potential for interesting developments in both the backstory of the crash and in the remote relationships she has via e-mail. The trauma-induced horror of going back to crew bunks is conveyed very well. But we don't go anywhere from there.
It's ... toast and coffee. Very good toast and very good coffee, but that's just an appetiser before the omelette that we actually ordered, and when are we going to get it?