District Six is dry and hot, with the horizon warped and wavering from the temperature. The canyons, which would have been national treasures in other versions of Earth, are deep and filled with niches and crevices for both sides to post snipers, although they would likely need rockclimbing gear to be most effectively utilize the terrain. The dirt is red, and there is no shelter outside the canyons to take cover. The sun beats down and burns to a blister any uncovered skin after a few hours, although there is no reason for anyone out there to be there so long. Sun blindness is the greater enemy here.

The factories, by contrast, are busy and crowded, a complete opposite to the desolate and majestic works of earth nearby. The air is busy with the sound of industry. Workers scurry around, covered in motor oil and grease, inside machines that seem almost tomblike. They give a wide berth to the soldiers, hiding under assembly lines and behind models of hovercraft vehicles, under desks and behind machines. They're nothing but potential collateral damage.