The planet was a dangerous place.

That's what they told the tourists, anyway. Don't go out on the surface. Don't try to open the windows. And above all, don't go in the mines.

Of course, there were always a few casualities. You couldn't watch people all the time, and every so often someone would stray from their guided tour, never to be seen again. But still the tourists came in droves, flocking to this dry, dirty planet with its mines and its hotels.

The hotels were dotted across the barren earth, stretching up to the sky like shards of glass. Sleek and modern, they were the essence of comfort.

It was the mines that were deadly. The whole planet was riddled with them, long snaking tunnels that formed a maze-like warren just under the planet's skin. It was said that if you wandered through them long enough, you'd eventually find the other side of the world. That was, if you didn't die first.

But if the mines were bad, the miners were worse. Men, women, children, all worked in the mines. At the end of each day they'd clamber out, hacking and coughing and covered in fine black dust.

They were filthy.

That was probably why Amora hated them so much.

She was used to comfort and cleanliness. Amora was a child of the stars, born and raised on a Starline RV, all curves and sharp edges. She'd arrived at the Dry Planet several years ago and hadn't left the hotel.

Her suite was spotless, much unlike the ragged group of miners that were trooping across the landscape below. Her lip curled with distaste as she watched them. It was unfortunate that they were necessary, but the mines provided the planet with twelve billion sanddollares each year alone. Closing the minds would mean a massive international deficit.

And besides, it was the mines that drew the tourists. The sheer danger of them was enough to bring sightseers from lightyears around, just observe. Another three billion in tourist sanddollares right there.

Filthiness paid out well. And it paid out especially well to Amora.

Satisfied with her rationalization of the mines, Amora leant back in her chair and tapped her chin thoughtfully.

Soon.