When the soldiers seized Rose, they killed everyone at the wedding. There were only two survivors. The first was Snow, who managed to crawl to safety, badly injured, though she lost much of herself in the process.
No longer safe on New Constantinople, she gathered what allies she could find – warriors, nobles, diplomats – and they fled towards the Periphery on the SS Anderson. But they were betrayed. A bomb hidden in their food shipment, in a crate of apples, detonated, leaving the ship floating in space. Snow called the crew together.
Dr Lorenzo, what’s our status?
There’s me, you and six others, but Colonel Tuco’s badly injured.
Mr Greyditch, how’s the ship?
Simply put, we are dead. The engines are so badly damaged it will take us three days to reach the Periphery and the oxygen pumping system is gone. We have barely an hour of breathable air left. Make peace with whatever gods you have, because we are going to die.
What about some sort of override system? Couldn’t we pump the air manually?
Pump the air manually? Are you insane? We don’t have the people, we don’t have the time, we don’t have the material…
It might work, but… Look, we just don’t have the manpower. Especially with Colonel Tuco confined to the sick bay.
Oh, don’t you go listening to that grumpy old bastard, Doc. The medical bay wasn’t hit, and I am so doped up right now I could work forever. The lady says pump, then we pump.