The Microcolonial Protocol
Captain James Whitfield opened the airlock and stepped onto the surface of a dead world. The sky was the color of television tuned to a dead channel—no, that was a cliché. The sky was the color of deep water, that particular blue that exists only at twilight and dawn, when the Sun is neither fully up nor fully down. Stars were visible even in daylight, faint but persistent, like pinpricks in a...
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