A Found Mess

Written by Draggin

A thick gray fog blankets the morning sky, back-lit by the rising sun. The cloudless sky marred by the heavy, oily smoke settling above the ground. Piles of blackened, burning, smoldering techno rubble covers the surface and stretches to the horizon and beyond.

Jimra and Mil make their way among the rubble searching for their treasure. Salvageable technology that they collect and their father, Varc, can sell, or perhaps create a new toy for the boys to amuse themselves. Varc watches over the boys from a few meters behind, directing the boys to items that appear to be the most interesting or valuable.

Varc is a master engineer and professional salvage operator. He has taken his operation into the Diaspora on this latest run to find another trove of reusable materials, having found great success for his business in the unruly and untamed wilds of the asteroids. He works hard and has created solid alliances with both the Free Captains and the Dwarven miners. Supplying and trading information to each party with which they may have interest and shipping trading supplies to and from the Disapora should there be a request.

He works with the dwarves by offering advanced scouting of asteroids, the surfaces of which he salvages. He reports to the dwarves any results of underground scans that might be best suited to their interests. He walks a tightrope with the Free Captains paying “royalties” on his salvage finds and occasionally importing requested goods, appeasing the Free Captains and saving Varc from the rampant piracy. He maintains a no smuggling policy and the Free Captains only use him as a low cost transporter of legitimate goods. While minimally profitable, this too keeps his profile low and away from the risks of being a target of the pirates.

Varc has taken Jimira and Mil with him on this latest salvage run to teach them about his business in hopes that the two 9-year olds will join him when they come of age next year. Beti, Varc’s wife and mother of the boys, remains behind at home upon Akiton, watching over their other children and worrying constantly about the three of them on this trip. Talking with Varc and the boys every night to report on the antics of the boys younger siblings (sisters Gaje, Anpel, and Juhel, four years younger than the boys), but mostly as an excuse to talk with the boys, so as to lose less time with them in their final year of minority.

Varc, now directing the loading of his selected salvage, which he is finding easy on this particular asteroid. Barely a step can be taken before he finds noteworthy and valuable items to load into the ship. Some battle apparently fought here recently, although now finished, the technology found being of recent make, and the tell tale signs of ongoing smoke and fires among the scrap.

“Mind the fires, boys,” he calls out and then mumbles “The last thing I need is to allow one of these boys to get hurt out here. I’ll never hear the end of it, for sure.”

“What was that?” came a voice through the comm system.

“Nevermind Treti, just talking to myself” Varc responds.

“Need I remind you sir, that all communications are being recorded…”

“You don’t need to remind me of that, you tape recorder. I made you, I can unmake you … Oh, just never mind” barked Varc.

Treti is Varc’s parter, but also his Android creation. A first “son” Varc often wishes he never had, yet a brother he had long wished for as a child, and a business partner by necessity and circumstance. 
Varc created Treti as a mechanical assistant, but the Android Abolitionist Front interfered on Treti’s behalf declaring him a sentient being. Varc arguing with himself for having gone too far advancing Treti’s systems beyond the necessary and having to legally share the ownership of the business. For this reason Varc avoids android salvage like the proverbial plague. Fearful that the AAF is always watching him (perhaps through Treti) and will ruin his business if he crosses that line.

Stumbling over some scrap, shaking Varc from his reverie, he realizes that he hasn’t heard a peep from the boys in a few minutes. “Treti” he calls, “locate the boys and get me to their location.”

Treti complies.

Varc crosses over another stack of scrap, not pausing to examine it to find the boys quietly tinkering with their discovery. A soot covered and blackened robotic soldier that even at this range Varc can see is still functional, if only limited.

“Blackout” he calls to Treti. That signal used to mark the recording as questionable, even Varc keeps some secrets, and for later review and potential expulsion from the record.

Mil hears his father approach and turns toward him. Varc’s eyes glowing through the face shield of his environmental protection suit with displeasure over seeing what the boys have uncovered and the smile on their faces. Varc takes a deep breath and sighs “Oh, crap!”