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The last time I was here, the place was packed. Hundreds of people from all over the world were waiting anxiously for their flight to space. We were all making history, going to Elderon. The collective optimism was contagious.
That day feels like a lifetime ago. Many of those people are dead. The rest are trapped in space with a madman, cowering inside their suites. I feel their fear in the wide empty space as I walk across the carpeting. The terminal was designed to hold thousands of people bound for colonies in space. Now Strom is gone — his company in shambles. The Maverick dream is dead.