No Place Like It

Tinf?  It’s a thermal hell of a planet.  It’s sheathed in thick clouds of helium and methane and sulfur dioxide, scattering rain that’ll etch metal.  Actinic Kortinf whips the atmosphere, thick as it is, into hurricane frenzy during the day, making ions enough to thrash the ground with lightning bolts of a size you’d never see on one of your milk-mild garden worlds.  The leaden oceans melt shortly after dawn and are boiling by afternoon.

Then at night the temperature crashes again, and the flash-floods come with dusk.  Aurorae light the sky all night, walls and curtains of color, green and yellow and blue and red as the atmosphere discharges again – Kortinf puts out too many rads that reach the ground during the day, so we can only come up to clean off the lava and tend the arrays at night.

And continuous radio noise, so you chaps with the wireless interfaces couldn’t hear yourselves think – nothing but hash all the time, from the lightning by day and the aurorae by night.

Leave?  Chaos, no!  It’s just like home!

– Alyáné Janaris-ith-Janaris, Sialhaith-adapt technician