Slope Not Blocked Work -

"Abort? We have a team down there. Their life support is running on fumes." Elara checked the altimeter. 2,000 feet and dropping fast. The wind was already screaming against the hull, a banshee wail that vibrated through the soles of her boots. If she aborted now, the drift would carry them miles away from the stranded science team. By the time they hiked back, the team would be popsicles.

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