I don’t usually know I’m dreaming when I’m dreaming, but a few common themes give it away: I can’t move right or can’t see out of one eye because of how my body is laying, because I must still feel that pressure on some level. I have to keep going to the head, over and over (speaking of pressure)...
Matthew breaks the silence as he picks at the meal I brought him in his rack. “Asking him what he was trading for food?” “We fucked up,” I tell him numbly. “We thought about the tactical. We didn’t consider the economic.” He’s not feeling well today. Again. Halley gave him orders to rest, keeping...
I’ve been watching the feed from the drones I’ve strung across the mouth of the canyon, having set their frequencies so my internal Mods can pick up the signals directly so I don’t have to stay inside the ship staring at monitors. I’ve even gotten used to getting video and graphics piped direct...
The target marker northeast of Liberty Crater is painting a colonial group that stole our rover. They are not aligned with Asmodeus. They’re just people. Do not fire on them. Do not fire.” The message is scratchy through the link we’re barely maintaining with our recon flight, chained through rem...
I wonder for an instant if that saved my life: that not jumping up in a start and going for my gun—just laying here like the sight of her in my room is not at all unexpected—keeps her from showing me why she has the reputation she does. Zauba’a Ghaddar. “Good morning…” I tell her. No demands, no ...
I feel ashamed that we might be putting an undue burden on the Cast’s harvest, but I won’t scavenge the dead, and Bel seems to respect my limits, even though he has more severe damage. His face healed in a dozen hours once he got fed, but his arm still looks like an anatomy display. He absorbed c...