In a quiet bar beneath Uesureyan Fields starport, a handful of Star Army of Yamatai soldiers on the move between stations sat around waiting for their shuttles or starships to land. The bar was an ideal hangout: It was next door to the entrance to an underground military-operated temporary housing complex; a restaurant section served Mexican food; booze was endless and varied; and a relaxed atmosphere and staff made it a laid-back watering hole.
Outside the bar, the street level was topped by a lane of transparent Zesuaium panels forming part of the massive starport above. Sunlight shone down through them on the dusty cobblestone road and sidewalks. A pair of scantily clad self-employed comfort women waited on a bench struggling not to fall asleep, and a flickering florescent sign read “Desperados Nepleslianos.”
Inside, a bulky Nepleslian man wearing a red dress shirt and a bandolier full of shotgun shells slammed a bag of ice a few times with a slegehammer before pouring it out into a cooler. Spotting some low-ranking soldiers coming the door, he asked, “What'll it be?”
Inside the restaurant there are some people looking for profitable work on starships.