Sector 347: Smog Wars

It started without warning.

Just before lights-on, Sector 347 vanished beneath a rolling wall of grey. The air turned sour, the vents began to scream, and within minutes the eastward hab-blocks were swallowed in a choking smog that cut visibility to nothing. Vox links crackle, auspexes spit static, and the Guilds are pretending nothing’s wrong.

Some say a filtration stack collapsed under pressure. Others swear it was sabotage — a rival guild or rogue gang venting the stacks to settle old debts. But a few whisper darker things: that something deep in the sump woke up, stirring the gases that should’ve stayed buried.

Whatever the cause, Sector 347 is cut off. The smog’s thick enough to burn through filters, and no Guild support is coming. Rumours spread fast - a fully loaded convoy crashed spilling crates all over the sector. The crates are still out there, buried somewhere in the haze.

Now the gangs are on the move. Visibility’s dropping by the hour, every breath tastes of metal and acid, and whoever claims the equipment first will own what’s left of Sector 347 when the air finally clears - if it ever ever does.