Ugar

Nestled on one of the rare lakes in the narrow habitable strip of Sonhandra, Ugar spreads like a resilient, sprawling oasis across the middle of the twilight belt. Its outline, while still etched by windblown grit, forms a crude mandala drawn in shipwrecks and ferrocrete from orbit, a concentric sprawl of districts radiating from the battered old wreck of an orbital dropship—the Steelhouse Bazaar—that crash-landed during some forgotten war and was simply never removed. Instead, it became the city’s enduring heart.

This isn't a city of sunlight and clear skies. The light here never changes. Everything is caught in that unwavering golden hour limbo where shadows stretch long and the sun is always hovering just behind the horizon, too bright to ignore, too distant to warm. Buildings, while aged, lean inward, seemingly in a comfortable embrace, shielding themselves against the wind. Their facades, scoured down to dull metal and soot-caked concrete, are alive with graffiti glowing in UV-reactive paint beneath flickering streetlamps. Masked figures shuffle past with scarves pulled high, their steps a steady rhythm against the constant background hum of the dust, a sound that here often feels like a distant lullaby rather than an immediate threat.

The city has grown both up and down. Above, skeletal towers rise like antennae, some topped with private observatories or cartel gun-nests; below, service tunnels, forgotten transit lines, and old mining shafts twist through the undercity like a labyrinth of rust and desperation. No one knows exactly how far down it goes—some say the lowest levels connect to geothermal fissures, others that cults and syndicates have carved out whole enclaves in the dark.

Welcome to Ugar. Leave your morals at the door.

Arrival & Impressions

Travelers arrive by the mile-long parking fields—rows of battered freighters and modified light transports—drawn by lax regulations and the promise that anything can be had…for the right price. There are no real landing pads here—just the red dust and the buzz of landing beacons hacked together from Guild castoffs.

But in Ugar, nothing is free, and every favour carries strings; ethics here are fluid, far removed from the strictures of the core worlds. Use this guide as your city compass: weave through the neon-lit back alleys, the rising scaffolds of Skybridge Heights, and the wind-lashed watchtowers before the Extinguishment. Each district has its own rhythm, its own temptations—and its own dangers. Compared to the unforgiving extremes of Sonhandra's Day and Night sides, Ugar is the only truly hospitable place on the planet, a welcome (if rough around the edges) respite from the planet's harshness.

Districts & Landmarks

• The Steelhouse Bazaar: The pulsing heart of Ugar, this colossal shipwreck-turned-market buzzes with noise and motion, lit by hanging plasma bulbs and the dim wash of neon rigs wired into ancient generators. Auctioneers here call out prices on everything from cloned organs and black-market drone parts to contraband relics. Holo-ads flicker across stained walls, advertising stolen tech or offworld pleasure dens.
• Skybridge Heights (The Vertigo): The upper reaches of Ugar, where skeletal towers rise like antennae. Some are legitimate residences or Guild offices, while others are topped with private observatories or fortified cartel gun-nests. Travel here is often via precarious, wind-lashed skybridges.
• The Undercity (The Labyrinth): Below the surface, a sprawling network of service tunnels, forgotten transit lines, and old mining shafts. It's a labyrinth of rust and desperation, where Way cults and various syndicates have carved out hidden enclaves, connecting to rumoured geothermal fissures deep below.
• The Extinguishment Border: The edge of the Twilight Zone, where the constant howl of the wind picks up, carrying the cold breath of the Night Side. Beyond the wind-lashed watchtowers, all light simply dies a kilometre in. This is the last outpost before total darkness.
• The Outskirts (Ship Graveyards): Row after row of half-functional freighters, retrofitted cargo haulers, and scavenged escape pods repurposed into homes, clinics, or hideouts. This is where most off-worlders first land, and where the lines between home and derelict blur.

Factions & Influence

• Novatom (Corporate Dominance): While their main mining operations are on the Day Side, Novatom maintains a strong corporate presence and logistical hubs in Ugar. They're heavily invested in maintaining the "lax policies" that benefit their off-world shipping, often tolerating the grey market for their own gain. Their security forces are occasionally seen, often clashing with unruly elements.
• The Guilds (Subtle Influence): The Counters and Starsmiths Guilds have a subtle but pervasive presence. They don't overtly enforce laws, but their control of essential tech and banking networks (like the systems used for Jerec's Junkyard or Auto #4) means they can freeze accounts, deny parts, or blacklist ships, making them powerful behind-the-scenes forces. Their agents might be found negotiating deals or auditing flows in the Bazaar or Skybridge Heights.
• Local Crime Syndicates: Beyond the sector-wide players, Ugar hosts numerous smaller, independent gangs vying for control of rackets and territories. They often pay tribute to bigger fish or rely on intermediaries like Abra Drake.
• The Borniko Syndicate: A particularly insidious presence in Ugar. The Borniko Syndicate is deeply involved in illicit data and the manipulation of information. They are rumoured to have once been so adept at their trade that they managed to erase a "Counters Guild shadow repository from Guild ledgers." In Ugar, they operate quietly, running discreet data exchanges, blackmail rings, and potentially controlling segments of the undercity's forgotten transit lines for their covert operations. They thrive on anonymity and the city's murky morality, often using seemingly legitimate fronts to mask their true activities. They're the kind of syndicate that won't send muscle after you, but they'll make your life, and your digital footprint, disappear.
• Hegemony (Minimal Presence): A small, underfunded customs office is all the direct Hegemonic presence you'll find. Easily bribed or circumvented, they largely ignore Ugar's illicit activities as long as bigger conflicts don't flare up.

Notable Faces

• Abra Drake (Fixer and Auctioneer): (connected, confident, bold) The undisputed master of Ugar's illicit auctions. If it's for sale, she's selling it. If you need it sourced, she can find it. She operates from a well-fortified, yet discreet, office in the central district.
• Osha (Nyct-smoking, grizzled ex-Legionnaire): (deadly, retired, steely) Runs the "Three Suns," Ugar's largest gambling den and dive bar. She's seen too much to be surprised, and too tough to be crossed. A good source of rumours, if you know how to talk to her.
• Zee D “Tank” Marak (Mercenary turned Nyct Farmer): (gambler, commanding, experienced) While he operates more on the Night Side, Tank often comes to Ugar to move product or find pilots skilled enough to brave the dark. He knows a thing or two about hiding things, and people.

The Ever-Present Wind

Above it all, the wind never stops. It howls between buildings, presses against sealed domes, carries the cold breath of the night and the dry burn of the day in alternating waves. And through that wind, Ugar endures—aged and cynical, but undeniably vibrant. Always alive. Because here, in the dusk, anything can be bought. Even safety. Even hope. If you know who to pay.