With the crews flight from Lt. Streets, Bonnet and Rackham had made their escape as well. They had taken one of the Nori's monstrous mining drones and cut a path of destruction through the local fauna. Not that there was very much of it. Most of Haradhere had been quite dead for millennia, except for the occasional frog that lived in ponds of dissolved watery space junk and the occasional local, and rather new, variety of metal shrubbery. Life finds a way they say... . They paid it no mind as the drone plowed on and left a several feet deep gorge in the landscape that stretched in a straight line to the horizon.
Haradhere itself might have one day been a paradise. A planet so brimming with life and joyful frolicking no one would have found it strange to see small elf like creatures fulfill wishes to mentally challenged children wandering its woods.
What was left of it was a desert filled with metal, a sky, once blue and shiny with rainbows, was stuffed with clouds of variety entirely unique in the universe. They were so laden with metal dust that from below they always, even on a sunny day, were completely black, only to be lit up every couple of seconds by some falling space debris that went on to fall, shatter, and land like a carpet of bombs. The phenomenon had the peculiar property of creating channels of heated plasma that were viciously drawing red hot forked lightning strikes down to ground. Shooting stars were followed by lightning like an angry husband after his wife's lover and it all ended in thunder. Over and over again.
Bonnet and Rackham didn't care for any of it. They were on a mission to get the NoobMaster. It was personal. And they did what any good pirate did when he didn't know where to look. They went to find a pub. They indeed found one, one of the only ones that dared to offer surface level service. It was located at a shore of what went for an ocean on Haradhere. It even had sandy bits with loungers and parasols.