the smuggler’s bible


The atmosphere is thick and green, swirling with charming algae clusters that drift among beams of sunlight. Jubilation activates her suit thrusters, slows and touches down on the surface.

“Planetfall,” she says into her mic. “It’s pretty, but sort of gross too.”

“Seek minerals,” the uplink crackles.

“Sure. Looking now.” Jubilation turns slowly, gazing out across a rolling plain. The ground around her feet fizzes gently with microbes racing through high-speed chlorophyl reactions.

“Seems a little spare, home base.”

“Disregard flora and fauna. Seek—”

“Yeah, I know,” Jubilation says, choosing a direction and tromping off through the muck. “Seek minerals.”