Before you lies a rickety old station in disarray; its pretty clear that it needs some repair. It has some random parts nailed on that look like modules likely stolen from salvaged wrecks. Near the entrance is a crangly old Minmatar in a rocking chair, wearing a wife-beater and jeans cutoff shorts. He nods towards a broken-down rifter on blocks, tethered to the station with an old rope.

"Get offa my land", he says, spitting into a can and pointing a gun at you. "She ain't fer sale."

Behind him, you notice his toothless cousins gathered around what appears to be some kind of possum meat slathered in lard. Two of the cousins are working on making more cousins.