#L
Chapter 1 (3); 3
>Any creature that had escaped instant incineration had suffocated on superheated smoke, or seared away its feet fleeing over molten ground, or emerged from hiding to eventually starve while wandering barren expanses of ash-impregnated lechatelierite.
>
>The glasslands still showed orange because lechatelierite cooled from the top down, its surface solidifying into a vitreous blanket that kept heat from radiating into the air.
>
>The indigo beach vanished from the situation monitor, yielding to the mottled orange sweep of the warmer lechatelierite.
Chapter 2 (15); 18
>The crooked furrow of the Owl’s crash path resolved as a hot crimson trough filled with jagged shards of broken lechatelierite, stretching for a kilometer and a half behind them.
>
>He clambered over the wing and found the nose of the Special Delivery buried beneath a shelf of lechatelierite, with jagged plates of the glassy stuff leaning against the fuselage along both sides.
>
>John tossed a few random pieces of lechatelierite aside, then dropped to his knees and peered into the darkness next to the Special Delivery.
>
>Both pilots had tried to raise their canopies so they could evacuate, but the shelf of lechatelierite had prevented the pilot’s from rising more than a few centimeters.
>
>She placed their gear on top of the Owl’s wing, then ducked under the lechatelierite beside him.
>
>There was maybe a head’s width of cavity between the Owl’s nose and a wall of sandstone bedrock, and the canopy was pressed tight against a meter-thick ceiling of lechatelierite.
>
>Fred was up on top of the lechatelierite, standing off to one side and waving her forward.
>
>He wasn’t sure whether the LHD could break up a meter-thick blanket of lechatelierite, but Mukai probably was.
>
>Kelly loaded her M45E tactical shotgun with plastic-saboted strike rounds, then led the way off the fuselage onto the smooth expanse of lechatelierite terrace.
>
>Capable of blowing a hole through a Warthog’s engine block, the steel rounds were punching a third of a meter down into the lechatelierite, creating an uneven, fracture-lined trench.
>
>After that, the lechatelierite broke up almost instantly under Mukai’s assault, shattering into hundreds of chunks that the excavation machine scooped up and lifted out of the
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Chapter 1 (3); 3
>Any creature that had escaped instant incineration had suffocated on superheated smoke, or seared away its feet fleeing over molten ground, or emerged from hiding to eventually starve while wandering barren expanses of ash-impregnated lechatelierite.
>
>The glasslands still showed orange because lechatelierite cooled from the top down, its surface solidifying into a vitreous blanket that kept heat from radiating into the air.
>
>The indigo beach vanished from the situation monitor, yielding to the mottled orange sweep of the warmer lechatelierite.
Chapter 2 (15); 18
>The crooked furrow of the Owl’s crash path resolved as a hot crimson trough filled with jagged shards of broken lechatelierite, stretching for a kilometer and a half behind them.
>
>He clambered over the wing and found the nose of the Special Delivery buried beneath a shelf of lechatelierite, with jagged plates of the glassy stuff leaning against the fuselage along both sides.
>
>John tossed a few random pieces of lechatelierite aside, then dropped to his knees and peered into the darkness next to the Special Delivery.
>
>Both pilots had tried to raise their canopies so they could evacuate, but the shelf of lechatelierite had prevented the pilot’s from rising more than a few centimeters.
>
>She placed their gear on top of the Owl’s wing, then ducked under the lechatelierite beside him.
>
>There was maybe a head’s width of cavity between the Owl’s nose and a wall of sandstone bedrock, and the canopy was pressed tight against a meter-thick ceiling of lechatelierite.
>
>Fred was up on top of the lechatelierite, standing off to one side and waving her forward.
>
>He wasn’t sure whether the LHD could break up a meter-thick blanket of lechatelierite, but Mukai probably was.
>
>Kelly loaded her M45E tactical shotgun with plastic-saboted strike rounds, then led the way off the fuselage onto the smooth expanse of lechatelierite terrace.
>
>Capable of blowing a hole through a Warthog’s engine block, the steel rounds were punching a third of a meter down into the lechatelierite, creating an uneven, fracture-lined trench.
>
>After that, the lechatelierite broke up almost instantly under Mukai’s assault, shattering into hundreds of chunks that the excavation machine scooped up and lifted out of the
Chapter 1 (3); 3
>Any creature that had escaped instant incineration had suffocated on superheated smoke, or seared away its feet fleeing over molten ground, or emerged from hiding to eventually starve while wandering barren expanses of ash-impregnated lechatelierite.
>
>The glasslands still showed orange because lechatelierite cooled from the top down, its surface solidifying into a vitreous blanket that kept heat from radiating into the air.
>
>The indigo beach vanished from the situation monitor, yielding to the mottled orange sweep of the warmer lechatelierite.
Chapter 2 (15); 18
>The crooked furrow of the Owl’s crash path resolved as a hot crimson trough filled with jagged shards of broken lechatelierite, stretching for a kilometer and a half behind them.
>
>He clambered over the wing and found the nose of the Special Delivery buried beneath a shelf of lechatelierite, with jagged plates of the glassy stuff leaning against the fuselage along both sides.
>
>John tossed a few random pieces of lechatelierite aside, then dropped to his knees and peered into the darkness next to the Special Delivery.
>
>Both pilots had tried to raise their canopies so they could evacuate, but the shelf of lechatelierite had prevented the pilot’s from rising more than a few centimeters.
>
>She placed their gear on top of the Owl’s wing, then ducked under the lechatelierite beside him.
>
>There was maybe a head’s width of cavity between the Owl’s nose and a wall of sandstone bedrock, and the canopy was pressed tight against a meter-thick ceiling of lechatelierite.
>
>Fred was up on top of the lechatelierite, standing off to one side and waving her forward.
>
>He wasn’t sure whether the LHD could break up a meter-thick blanket of lechatelierite, but Mukai probably was.
>
>Kelly loaded her M45E tactical shotgun with plastic-saboted strike rounds, then led the way off the fuselage onto the smooth expanse of lechatelierite terrace.
>
>Capable of blowing a hole through a Warthog’s engine block, the steel rounds were punching a third of a meter down into the lechatelierite, creating an uneven, fracture-lined trench.
>
>After that, the lechatelierite broke up almost instantly under Mukai’s assault, shattering into hundreds of chunks that the excavation machine scooped up and lifted out of the
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#L
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Chapter 1 (3); 3
Any creature that had escaped instant incineration had suffocated on superheated smoke, or seared away its feet fleeing over molten ground, or emerged from hiding to eventually starve while wandering barren expanses of ash-impregnated lechatelierite.
The glasslands still showed orange because lechatelierite cooled from the top down, its surface solidifying into a vitreous blanket that kept heat from radiating into the air.
The indigo beach vanished from the situation monitor, yielding to the mottled orange sweep of the warmer lechatelierite.
Chapter 2 (15); 18
The crooked furrow of the Owl’s crash path resolved as a hot crimson trough filled with jagged shards of broken lechatelierite, stretching for a kilometer and a half behind them.
He clambered over the wing and found the nose of the Special Delivery buried beneath a shelf of lechatelierite, with jagged plates of the glassy stuff leaning against the fuselage along both sides.
John tossed a few random pieces of lechatelierite aside, then dropped to his knees and peered into the darkness next to the Special Delivery.
Both pilots had tried to raise their canopies so they could evacuate, but the shelf of lechatelierite had prevented the pilot’s from rising more than a few centimeters.
She placed their gear on top of the Owl’s wing, then ducked under the lechatelierite beside him.
There was maybe a head’s width of cavity between the Owl’s nose and a wall of sandstone bedrock, and the canopy was pressed tight against a meter-thick ceiling of lechatelierite.
Fred was up on top of the lechatelierite, standing off to one side and waving her forward.
He wasn’t sure whether the LHD could break up a meter-thick blanket of lechatelierite, but Mukai probably was.
Kelly loaded her M45E tactical shotgun with plastic-saboted strike rounds, then led the way off the fuselage onto the smooth expanse of lechatelierite terrace.
Capable of blowing a hole through a Warthog’s engine block, the steel rounds were punching a third of a meter down into the lechatelierite, creating an uneven, fracture-lined trench.
After that, the lechatelierite broke up almost instantly under Mukai’s assault, shattering into hundreds of chunks that the excavation machine scooped up and lifted out of the way.
When they finished, there were only a few centimeters of ash-clouded lechatelierite between them and the Owl, and Kelly began to fire strike rounds into it.
John and Kelly dropped to their bellie
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