@lolt64 They don't tell you what parts of a drill assignment are fresh or refrozen. You can't tell blood from rust. Or rust from salt. All scarlet, like the eye of Jove. But you know when you hit a body that's been forgotten. Or left behind. You will be left behind.
Some use terms like pedipalps or chelicerae, but I know what teeth are. Teeth that chew through solid ice and can rip a soldier in half with no effort. You don't hear them coming. Muffled in the crackling echoes all around. On Europa, the only thing natural for us is death.
Be on the watch for bad tunnels. The ones that've been co-opted by something else. Look for inconsistencies: an Icer's drill makes rhythmic patterns, no matter how hard their teeth are rattling. If you see chunks and chips, that's when you need to report.
@FedeItaliano76 a city built over the corpse of a dead god; his bones form foundations of their tallest buildings, his flesh became streets where carts and carriages move where blood once did
@museum_updates The small folk โ true descendants of Old Lilliputia โ clamber over hot chondrite slabs and splinters of sun-bleached juniper, only to gawk at the giant boy in his fits of pain. A merciful blade of light cuts across the glass seconds after their eyes meet and they're silent again.