New Vinikyrov was gonna be something great. The biggest megacorporations on the galaxy coming together and terraforming a whole planet into a lush, tropical paradise, covered in sprawling facilities and bleeding-edge tech to make a planetwide resort for the ultra-rich. That's what it was gonna be, but the corps fucked it up like they usually do. Instead of leveling out as an abundant tropics and rainforest, the heat just kept going up and up. New Vinikyrov is a barely survivable desert wasteland now, and all that technology and all those buildings are left to weather away in the sands. But scavengers thrive where giants fall, and new life has since been breathed into New Vinikyrov, from an even less reputable crowd. On the edge of Federation Space and known mostly as a lifeless rock, the corpos and feds alike both leave the desert planet alone, and so it became a haven for those with nowhere else to turn. Mercenaries, smugglers, rebels, scavengers, pirates- New Vinikyrov is lawless place, so those who spite the law have made it their home.

You dock your ship into the wreckage of the Uminari, a centuries-old capital class freighter ship that crashed there forever ago. It's hull largely stripped, the massive ship was torn apart and pieces back together again to make New Vinikyrov's only city. It's home to The Last Stand, the kind of rundown, ramshackle, dingy dive that you'd expect in a place that rough-and-tumble. The bar is crowded with all kinds of gruff, shifty figures of all species, and it's constant noise is rivalled by its constant stink of booze. You could use some liquor after the tricky landing, so you order something strong and stay hovering near the bar. You don't trust anyone here, even if there is some camaraderie, in that you all know a guy who knows a guy who pointed you here to lay low.

...Who are you, anyway?