The entertainment complex’s shopping center is in a state of disarray similar to the general condition surrounding Exo Laant Starport. Some stores are empty, the wrapping from packages littering the floor, and some sellers are in a fire sale mode, trying to clear their shelves before whatever awaits, hell maybe. Others, arms dealers, are gouging for prices on legitimate sales to those frightened enough to believe that arming themselves to the teeth can forestall the inevitable; everyone has gotta make that last cred somehow. For some, it is still the chance to stop at a rejuve spa, to wipe away the years, literally; old age is no longer the enemy it once was, not that so many face that today where if one lives long enough it is only to feel their life rudely torn from their body by the dogs of war, and lay such as carrion people, groaning for burial. The waves that lap at the feet of Stane are not so clean, a wave of war crossing sectors, where even if courage may fail; there is still a lucrative deal to made with the devil on the unhallowed ground of destroyed worlds.
The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere
The ceremony of innocence is drowned;
The best lack all conviction, while the worst
Are full of passionate intensity.