"Warm up the thrusters," Vetra commanded, her eyes reflecting the neon green glow of the sludge pools below. "If the God is calling, we won't greet them with clean hands. We’ll bring the stench of a thousand factories."
Vetra walked to the observation deck. Below, the city-spire stretched into the smog. Giant pipes, thick as starship hulls, pumped toxic runoff into massive fermentation vats. This was the "Knights of the Toxic God" quest—a search for the progenitor who had blessed them with this glorious filth. STELLARIS TOXOIDS SPECIES(2022)
"The Blorg representatives are refusing to disembark," her assistant, a twitchy drone-operator named Skrit, chirped through the comms. "They say the 'aroma' of our starport is melting their environmental suits." "Warm up the thrusters," Vetra commanded, her eyes