Diary of Endelle Stroth - 36.08.2270
We’re on approach to Aglostarros now, and nerves threaten to overcome me. But beneath the anticipation, I can’t help noticing how different my former homeworld looks from the portholes of the Fortitude.
Make no mistake, the planet doesn’t appear to have physically experienced any seismic shift or alteration. It’s still the same orb of slate-grey cities and green-grey oceans. And it’s not like I hadn’t been offworld before going on the run, it’s just that…
After everything I’ve seen out there in the galaxy, the wondrous things and worlds and people I only read about in the Museum, it’s hard to stomach that this monochromatic orb was all I knew for so much of my life. That the faceless tower blocks, the endless bureaucracy, the watered-down coffee from the AUM refectory, was ever enough.
Is that uncharitable? Didn’t I say that wonder can be found everywhere? Perhaps there are exceptions.
THIS WEEK:
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