Stranded On Santa Astarta [exclusive] Access

An hour later, the Hauler screamed through Santa Astarta’s thin, cold atmosphere. Valerius gripped a jump-seat as the craft shook apart. Below, the ruin rushed up—not a city, but a canyon of black stone towers, each one carved with saints and angels whose faces had been scoured away by ten millennia of acidic wind.

“Life support is critical,” came the vox-click of Mender Korr, the ship’s enginseer. “Atmosphere will be breathable for another four point three standard hours. After that, nitrogen narcosis, then hypoxia.” stranded on santa astarta

The Astarte had been a rust-bucket even before it fell out of the warp. Now, it was a tomb. Captain Valerius pulled himself through the twisted access corridor, his mag-boots clanking on the hull plates that had become the floor. The emergency lights were the color of a bruise. An hour later, the Hauler screamed through Santa

“You could stay,” Anima Sola said. “You could rule this world. Rebuild it.” “Life support is critical,” came the vox-click of

Liatris stepped forward. “Take you? You’re a brain in a jar. You weigh two hundred kilos.”