The return journey proved far more enjoyable than the initial trek.

On my first trip through this rusted desert, sand harshly lashed my face, and my eyes strained to glimpse the landscape. Now, equipped with a new cape, goggles, and a tarp, both the skimmer and I were shielded from the relentless sand.

The fabric flutters gently, like a whisper trailing my steps. Originally, the tarps were meant to conceal my home from prying eyes, but after walking for a few minutes I realized their movement and sound would have the opposite effect. At least it serves its purpose for the skimmer, as long as I keep it taut.

Sand gusted my way, but the snug bandanna over my nose and mouth, along with advanced goggles, protected me from the worst of it.

The goggles, with their adjustable tint, are worth every credit I spent.

Strapped securely at my side was my greatest comfort: a blaster, its cold metal reassuring against my skin. I had bought a compact railgun model, with affordable and plentiful ammo.

I'll need to practice; I’m unsure how much of my 21st-century firearm knowledge will translate. But it was nothing hours of practice couldn't fix.

Initially, I had worried it would be obnoxiously loud, but the description said it doesn’t propel the steel ball ammo past the sound barrier. So, there was no sonic boom. It wasn't completely silent, but it wouldn't blow my ears out immediately.

With my immediate worries set aside, I could appreciate the quiet beauty of this alien world.

The ground sprawled with the chaotic tapestry of abandoned shuttles, their frames crumbling to earth alongside spherical, half-buried remnants of sensors and probes removed from ships ages ago.

A colossal starship loomed, its scale dwarfing nearby structures. My small abode clung to its skeleton, a worn-out white standing in stark contrast to the behemoth. It was stripped of its outer panels revealing pilfered innards, likely scavenged by AstraCore Corporation's recyclers before being discarded here.

Most of the valuable pieces were seized by the official recycler owned by AstraCore Corporation. They take anything worth selling and leave the carcass behind.

They used to just dump it on the surface but eventually, they opted to use a massive crater as their primary dumping ground. So all I’m seeing here is ancient stuff, long stripped by official and unofficial scrappers like myself.

Navigating past debris, I finally reached home.

Once inside, my skimmer tilted like a dump truck to slide my water tank off and back into place.

With only a few hours of daylight remaining, I grabbed food and water and settled in to gather information on my datapad.

******

Light streamed through the doorway; the night was enlightening, though I avoided getting too deep since much of it was beyond my understanding or irrelevant.

One thing was certain: Jack absolutely ripped me off, but he was the only shop around that accepted large quantities of scrap with a decent inventory. I'll have to deal with him for now.

I discovered that material and components were sorted into tiers, with tiers one and two designated as civilian tiers. These remnants decorate the scrapyard. AstraCore had collected everything else, with tiers three to five were seized and traded away.

Well right now, I need more credits. I need to head farther away from Aqua47, perhaps even relocate my base.

I also need to pick up the little treasure Rhett found.

Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there.

But first, breakfast.

I ate a chalky nutrient cube and rinsed my mouth with water. Topping off my water bottle. Securing my gear in the skimmer, I set off.

An hour's walk to Rhett’s spot awaited, followed by another hour of scouting potential forward base locations.

The sun was just beginning to crest the mountains, giving me time to review the information I had read.

I first looked into nanomachines. While many solid theories exist, there is no clear consensus explaining why nanomachines replicate so effectively in the human body.

When nanomachines create copies, defects also arise, one in millions, but when dealing with trillions, that’s a significant number of defects, and it worsens over time. You typically need special vats to monitor and filter out the defective ones for proper use.

One unanimous conclusion is that we are a new species, no longer just Homo sapiens, though the name is still debated.

I also found a short-term goal, one Rhett was aiming for, now mine too. I need to save about 700 credits to get a ride out of this ghost town. Just a glimpse through the Web revealed so much cool stuff I want to see.

I didn’t lose my previous life to come here to die on a glorified garbage dump. You would often hear that we were born too late to explore the Earth and too early to explore the universe.

Yet here I am, born at the perfect time to explore alien worlds and witness stars dance as they spiral ever closer. To physically explore new Stellar-Web, space anomalies like a mirror nebula or the eternal city, a city built near a black hole, where its nutjobs inhabitants wait out the end of the universe.

Letting out a breath of air I calmed myself down.

Man, I’ve got to stop looking so far ahead and fix what I can now. Starting with scaling this massive metal heap.

Looking around with familiarity gives me more confidence. I grab my flashlight and head into an abandoned ship.

Like most things here, it’s dilapidated. I jump, duck, and weave past sections. At a dead end, a room’s entrance is blocked by a hoard of metal.

I bypass the entrance and move to the doorway's side, kicking aside a metal sheet to reveal a small cut in the wall. I duck in, crawling over fragments to reach the room’s backside.

Finally, I reached Rhett's tunnel. He had initially dug into large scrap mounds for circuits, wire, etc., but his returns didn't justify the time spent. He had to venture further.

This tunnel was the latest of his creation and my destination.

Leaving my skimmer, I brought along my torch, light, and water bottle. I shimmied through narrow passages, resting briefly in voids from abandoned habitats while avoiding cuts. I should have bought a medkit.

Finally, at the end, lay a battered and bent shuttle, cut in half with its cockpit missing, exposing the captain’s quarters.

Rhett already retrieved what he could, but he noticed the bed was under stress, and deformed by all the weight pressing on it. The bunk’s headrest twisted and cracked, revealing a void beneath.

Shining light into it reveals a black void that absorbs all light—surreal. Only one object lies within: a black box.

I assumed it was similar to aircraft black boxes, but Rhett thought otherwise.

I can see scorch marks on the bed where Rhett tried cutting through. He only managed to breach the outer shell, but the black material coating the inside halted him.

This is why I paid good credits for my FluxTorch.

Getting it out, I turn it on, applying the hot plasma flame to the black metal.

Initially, I thought it wasn’t strong enough, as the metal didn’t glow, but after a few minutes, it began melting without changing color or glowing. Odd, seeing metal melt like plastic, perhaps it is sci-fi plastic for all I know.

Over an hour passes to create a gap large enough to pull out the black box. It, too, is covered in that black plastic, as big as a suitcase, absorbing all light shining on it.

No indentations, no marks, no clues to its purpose. Just a smooth block of plastic.

There’s no way I can drag this thing out of the tunnel.

I shook it but heard nothing

This is not going to be my smartest move, but I decided to cut into it with the torch.

I did grab a solid metal piece to hide behind and protect myself first.

I wedge it between two heavy metal pieces to hold it upright and steady. Setting my torch to the surface, I duck behind my makeshift barrier.

It was after a few minutes I heard something.

Click, click, click

“Fuck.”

Letting go of the torch, I duck fully behind my barrier. After waiting a few minutes, I peek over. A slight wet spot marked where my torch was; it didn’t even penetrate.

I got up, paced around, and drank some water, letting the adrenaline subside.

It takes thirty minutes to create a small cavity, about two fists wide.

After cooling, I peer through.

Light reveals a small booklet and several containers, seems Rhett was right.

I turn the box, emptying its contents onto the floor. Grabbing the book, I handle it with care, it’s my first time seeing actual paper; everything's usually on a datapad.

Opening it cautiously, I find I can read it. It’s the captain’s diary, I guess space offers ample free time. He must’ve been wealthy to afford a paper diary.

Reading on, I learned he was a high-ranking in some corp; much information is outdated. I keep reading.

“Holy shit, these things are Neuro Enhancers.”