Okay. I'm standing in a room. In the interior of a mountain, let's not forget.
It's... I guess you would have to call it a "control room."
I don't know what, exactly, it's controlling... but there's really no answer to that question that'll ease my mind.
The room itself isn't very large -- large enough to stand up in, and move around a little, and that's about it.
But in banks on the walls... there are computer systems.
Functioning computer systems.
There are brand names I recognize, a sort of mix-and-match patchwork of monitors and CPUs. There are even a couple of chairs in front of the computers...
...clearly taken from some old starship flight deck and repurposed here, to build a freaking workstation.
On the moon. This all must be salvaged parts from ships. The computers, the chained generators, the wiring...
Oh. Yeah. That's the other thing. The wiring.
There's TONS of it. Bunched and bundled. And it all leads out of the computer banks and up, into a hole in the room's ceiling.
