Ours is a Seyfert galaxy. Painstaking engineering operations continue to galacto-form the war-torn main disk once again to comfortable conditions, and restart the nebula-nova cycle of stellar evolution.
The Doppler-distorted reddish smears from the boiling core of the galaxy, the tens of thousands of supernovae flaring into deadly magnificence, the ashy clouds that streak the Orion Arm as if the breath of dragons pa**ed there, scattering constellations, and leaving nothing but sullen red dwarves and exhausted red giants behind, all portray an interstellar environment wasted by war.
We occupy the satellite galaxies of Lesser and Greater Magellan, the star clusters above and below the damaged main disk. We have leisure to beguile the pa**ing millennia. This tale is among the ones we recite, reconstruct, and, from time to time, revive.