Krishou Tower Starport, Randon
Cyprian had ordered none of his men to leave the ship while they awaited their guest aside from guards posted outside the ship, but nevertheless the Balarac on board were still treated to a mesmerizing view of the glittering cityscape from their elevated platform jutting from the skytower. For most of his people, hailing from Wild Space, this was the first time witnessing a city at such scale.
"So this is what the high life is like," Velt exclaimed with a whistle. "This makes the Red Palace look like a mud hut."
"This is only the 'Mid Rim'," Cyprian reminded his lieutenant. "In the grand scheme of things, Randon is only middling trade post. Deeper, into the real Core, there are urban worlds teeming with platters of miniature societies that would dwarf the populations of the entire frontier sectors, and verdant garden planets that could have been hand sculpted by the Ancients themselves. High culture. True civilization."
"We're halfway there at this point...think I'd like a gander of this 'true civilization' of which you speak."
It was hard to read Cyprian as he always wore his armor, but by the tilt of his head, Velt had learned to interpret the expression as amusement.
"In due time...small steps."
Like this world, the Balarac were nothing in the sea of the galaxy, but in time that would change.