Ran out of excuses to work on this!
“What about the Dig, itself?”
“Best guess is that it was a Last Stand.” I didn’t like walking on the gorvines, but standing still would have been worse. This particular species was attracted to human scents, and would shift to get closer to us if we didn’t keep moving. Nobody’s ever been attacked by one, but spill any blood around a gorvine, and it’ll go looking for it. “It was just like how it was on all the other Tomb Worlds. They reported lots of signs of fighting, tons of smashed-in doors and walls, and not a bone to be found anywhere.”
“A half-told tale is far too tall,” offered the Anticipant. Either she was trying really hard to speak normally, or I was trying really hard to understand her, because I got the gist.
“Yeah, all of the reports leave out how it feels to be down here.” I scowled at the encroaching wilderness. “I guess we can’t get away with calling the Dig a ‘infective apprehension area’ or ‘static neurosis zone,’ or whatever else the head-stirrers are saying instead ‘really damn creepy’ this week. It’s not an accident that the main bases are all on the other side of the planet.”
Should be “instead of” rather than just “instead”. Also, that entire sentence has gotten large and convoluted enough that it strains against its own skin. If you can chop it down into two or three smaller sentences, I suspect it would work better.