275 degrees Kelvin, so warm enough to keep water liquid and not rupture things. Atmospheric pressure at the low end, roughly two thousand meters equivalent elevation. Gravplates set to one quarter standard. Not as light as Homeworld’s famous moon, Luna, but she would have to hop across the gap in freefall and dial everything down so she didn’t mash into the ceiling.Piece of cake.She watched Sykora, the big woman Dragoon, the dragon lady, nod to Javier. He pushed a button on his little console that normally handled the flight controls. Now, it just displayed a happy face in her cockpit and started up mood music for flying. Today, she was flying an early heavier–than–air aircraft known once upon a time as a helicopter. Hers wasn’t as loud as those primitive machines, although she had considered adding sound effects for verisimilitude. Like the two pathfinder women, Suvi went in first.It was a boring place. Industrial design heavy on gray, with square corners that actually looked welded instead of cast.
