It’s cold. My fingers are numb, my toes are numb, my face is numb. Little icicles hang on my eyelashes, and the air is so freezing it feels like a thousand tiny knives are stabbing me over and over. It’s been an hour since we crash landed. Our ship is destroyed, communication systems broken, and there’s no way home. We’re on a foreign planet, far from home. I know that much. Home is warm, and here is subzero.