Bay Seven

Bay Seven is a reinforced landing bay carved into the penal colony's outer structure, its curved ceiling ribbed with dim blue emergency lighting that flickers intermittently. The air hums with the low-grade ozone of a failing repulsor grid, mingling with the acrid scent of overheated durasteel from the damaged containment field. Two retractable boarding ramps extend from the far wall at a steep angle, their edges still scarred from previous dockings. In the distance, motion sensors pulse weakly against the shadowed bulkheads, their light reflecting off the stained durasteel deck plates. The space feels provisional—a temporary solution for a facility that never planned to host visitors. Oddly, there's a single chair bolted to the wall near a terminal, its purpose unclear, surrounded by the functional nothingness of a place designed for transit rather than habitation. The walls vibrate with distant machinery, the entire structure groaning slightly as if not entirely secure.