It was a strange imitation, one that might pass at a distance, like astroturf, but which became more obviously false the more you looked at it. It was a brilliant feat of engineering and cooperation, a fragile but working ecosystem.
Of course, it could only be a temporary fix. With such a delicate balance it could all be wiped out by a cold or an accident- miss one key person, even for a short time and the whole thing might come toppling down.
But it had lasted so far, and Pietro was admittedly impressed by what had been accomplished while he was locked away. He took it all in, stared at the stars and wondered how far they were from home. Wondered if Wicked had made it onto ship, and what had happened to them all.