Welcome to Port Horus- Watch your step, and keep your eyes open. There's no shortage of opportunists- or worse things- looking to prey on the weak here, and newcomers stand out as easy pickings.
Port Horus. Once known as the proud Imperial star fortress "Light of Reason", this vast, decrepit ruin is a twisted and broken parody of its former self. Forcibly "liberated" by an enterprising (and long since forgotten) band of heretics from a Space Hulk countless centuries ago, it acts as a gateway for all manner of unclean and unpleasant individuals either fleeing the wrath of the Imperium or seeking to make their way deeper into that corrupt empire.
Aliens rub shoulders with renegades rub shoulders with things that have no name. Generations of heretics have passed through its cramped corridors or spilled their lifeblood on its corroded deck plates. Entire cultures of mutant abominations have risen- and occasionally been slaughtered out of necessity or sport- in the depths of the hulk's rotten heart. Gangs constantly vie for supremacy, reavers restock and prepare for future raids, and the population-such as it is- claw among themselves in the dark, struggling to eke out a living or rise from the dark to lord it over their fellows. Mad prophets scream blindly in the passageways, spouting gibberish and unsavory revelations in equal measure- often before being torn apart by their fellows or gutted for their meager belongings.
Entire sections of the cross-shaped, massive Port have fallen into permanent ruin, impassable due to lack of air or less obvious dangers.
Heretics have grafted countless new structures on or over the wreckage- docking clamps, bolted on hanger bays, void temples, whole sections salvaged from other ships- until the original architecture is all but buried under directionless and haphazard additions like moss over a stone. Half-broken air recyclers- solely maintained by a particularly nasty heretek cult which charges a hefty tithe for their work- struggle to keep the scum, murderers, and monsters that call this place home from choking to death. Everything on the station leeches from the dim flickers of power coming from the station's ancient- and largely dormant- warp drive. Random power fluctuations- usually every few years- have been known to cause minor explosions or catastrophic deck shaking...but once the dust's settled, there's no shortage of rabble to replace the poor fools that got caught in the blasts.
Twisted and broken cannon batteries lie forgotten and disused, only intact for lack of air to cause them to rust- the handful of great macrocannons that are still operational have managed to deal with the odd Rogue Trader, Ork raider, or foolhardy reavers that've tried to attack the ruined fort over the centuries...mostly due to the fact that an outsider that attacks Port Horus is one of the few things that can (relatively) unify its squabbling occupants- and their motley fleets of ships. This has sufficed to keep the Port "safe"- or at least functional- over the years.
This is Port Horus. As renegade ports go, it could be a lot worse.