Dex could feel his heart beating inside his skull, like a hatchet against stone, chipping away bit by bit. The acidic smell of burned metal wafted into his nose, and something sharp jabbed his side.

“You with me, Dex?” a voice said from what seemed like a mile away. Then a hand connected with his cheek with a sharp sting, jarring him out of his haze.

The world of white came into focus, and at its center was a pair of stormy gray eyes.

“I’m with you,” he croaked, rubbing his sore cheek. “You didn’t have to smack me, though.”

“It got your attention,” Andi said, looking unabashed as she stood.

“That it did.”

He was still buckled into his chair. The reason everything looked white when he’d awoken was now obvious. Through the viewport of the Marauder, as far as he could see, was an endless expanse of snow, filling the entire front window as it stretched into the distance.

Everything came flooding back to him at once.

The ship shutting down, leaving the nebula behind. The frantic jump to hyperspace. The jarring screech of metal hitting the planet’s frozen surface.

They had survived the crash, but he wasn’t sure how long they’d last now. Solera was an unforgiving planet, and with Nor’s soldiers having swept across the galaxy... He wasn’t sure if anywhere was safe.

“Any idea where we are?” Dex asked, blinking stars from his eyes. His head throbbed angrily.

Andi stared out the viewport. “Not a clue.”

Dex grimaced. Nothing but frozen terrain out there, as far as he could tell. The ship rocked in the howling winds, and giant shards of ice jutted up from the white plain, towering hundreds of feet in the air. One of them, half a click away, was broken in two, a great gouge in the ice revealing where the Marauder had crashed into it before sliding to a stop here.

He unbuckled himself and slowly rose to his feet. “Memory, how bad is the damage?”

“Catastrophic,” Andi answered from the dash, which was flashing erratically with glitching blueprints and radar screens.

Memory’s absence echoed Andi’s point.

Across from them, Lon groaned in his seat, straps still secure across his chest. “I’m fine, guys. Thank you for your concern.”

“We’re a little busy, Sentinel,” Dex said, just as the ship groaned a final time and silence rushed through the bridge.

The lights on the console blinked out entirely. The only noise came from their hitched breaths and the freezing winds outside.

And Havoc, screeching wildly as it ran circles around the bridge, horns protruding from its fur. Apparently the creature had enjoyed the ride. Lon scooped him up, and the beast instantly fell as silent as the ship.

Well, hell, Dex thought as he looked around. This wasn’t good.

“Did the ship just...?” Andi started.