The planet seemed restless as it woke up from its slumber. Muses sprouted as they normally do in the morning hours. Their thick stalks holding the glorious and valuable water they supplied. It was that time again; the Colony Harvest. Chimera’s residence began to stir as well. Many made it their priority to start collecting as much as they possibly could before the afternoon hit. Even the morning trade run was happening. Some would barter items in a few small local markets. Some of the factions already had a system going where a huge shipment made by hovercraft came to them and they simply loaded and unload what they were willing to give and take. Many made it clear to stay in the perimeter; if they strayed too far from the safe zone they would be at mercy to the gruesome plant life that appear to sometimes lurk about. There was some but not much remorse for the new arrivals.

New pods crash land every month adding to the populous. Not many make it to a faction in hope for survival. Ever since this idea of a “trash” planet was established. Crimes seem to dwindle for the rest of the worlds. Maybe it was the thought of being on this planet that scared most criminals straight.