It has been more than two hundred years since the destruction of galactic civilization by the invasion of the Macros. Althea Ram, exile from a culture which survived the apocalypse, has been searching for answers amongst the lost worlds of the Consortia.
Her past failures, pyrrhic victories and dwindling resources have lead her to plan a desperate transit to Elysium, a world which could provide her everything she needs. But the probability of getting there on the first try is very low. And she has no way of telling how dangerous her destination might be. Because on any lost world, Althea must face dangers; hostile environments, the technologies once beneficial, now warped by Macro control, the descendants of human survivors - turned violent and suspicious by the Macro threat, and even herself, driven by needs she barely controls, or understands.
"Follow the plan," she repeated, felt her teeth begin to chatter.
Dorian signaled his assent. Althea gingerly got to her feet. She shivered, rubbed her arms, thought figures and scales in her mind. In a beat, a new wave of radiating warmth came from within as her NANs responded.
She glanced around for the station"s primary controls, ……