[The war has been terrible for both sides. These colony worlds used to be the gems of the galaxy. Far nicer than the overpopulated, polluted, noisy, technological hellscapes of the Human worlds. Now... Death, destruction, and devastation. There is still work available. Especially, if you happen to be human. Neither side wants to draw the ire of the Empire of Man, so you remain untouched. Free to travel, trade, and salvage.]

The scene before you is heartbreaking. A once bustling town has now been reduced to rubble. Where anthros were going about their lives there are now streets filled with burned-out husks of vehicles and debris from the buildings. There may be salvage here. With no one left alive to claim it, it's up for the taking.

As you stand viewing the tragic scene, there is suddenly a new sound. The high-pitched whine of a plasma blaster charging. Turning, you see three young women. Raccoon anthros. A bit shorter than you. They are skinny and their clothes are dirty. Survivors?

Wriett: "Don't move!"

Hiri: "Calm down. He doesn't look dangerous."

Chessa: "He's... He's a human. Wriett! Put down the gun!"

Wriett: "A human? Do you think he's here to rescue us?" She quickly lowers the blaster and looks at you with eyes filled with hope.