Sturm Lore:
Sturm
These ancient ceremonial pistols can be dated back to the early Golden Age. A faded inscription reads “To Sigrun, from Victor.”
“Please! You don’t understand. I’m supposed to be on that ship.”
The guard smiled at Sigrun with gentle condescension. “That’s not possible, ma’am.”
She understood why he would believe that; all of the colonists had entered cryo two weeks ago, but she could see the crew waving for pictures. They were awake! She could be awake, too. “I’m supposed to be on that ship,” she insisted, leaning around the guard. There was still time. She could find whatever horrible cryo-coffin they’d loaded Victor into; she could kneel before it and beg him to forgive her. He wouldn’t hear her but he wasn’t gone yet—
“I need you to take a step back, ma’am.”
“Captain Jacobson!” Sigrun darted past the guard. “I’m a colonist! You can’t leave without me!”
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