Lionel’s boots rattled against the gangplank and he ran forward pulling his arm through his worn brown leather jacket.

  Just moments ago he had been scouring the market topside for a few parts that he hadn’t managed to scavenge himself. That was when the response alarm blared to life, that wasn’t exactly a new experience when living on Cargo ship 4897, affectionately referred to as The Dump. Except this time his interface pinged.

  Inter-ship announcement

  All personnel required on duty. Confirmed dragon death detected nearby.

  That was new.

  The shopkeeper had looked at him with greed and all but kicked him out of the store with a shouted request to bring back scales. As if the empire’s ship would allow those kinds of resources to stick around CS 4897.

  But, a dragon's death! It was enough to light a fire under even the laziest of scavengers and Lionel arrived on the docks to pandemonium. Confused residents raced around, rushing to prep every available ship for departure, the only thing moving faster was the gossip flying at the speed of light.

  “Dragon death? What could kill one of those abominations!”

  “I hope whatever it is got more than one of those beasts!”

  “It must be true, the empire wouldn’t include The Dump in the announcement if not!”

  Lionel didn’t waste any time running for the main dock, any apprentice scavenger worth their salt would be begging to get on a ship and that guaranteed that Rylan would be there taking requests. He was easy to spot amongst the crowd, his muscular build poking out a head and shoulders above everyone else.

  “Rylan come with me?” He shouted, calling ahead to his friend. “Honestly this one is working!” He could hear the excitement in his voice.

  Rylan laughed, a deep rumbling chuckle as he strode down the dock directing a few younger apprentices onto the easy-going crews. They’d gain experience but not be in the thick of the action. “Three dragons are battling on the celestial ocean and you expect me to ride in your hunk of junk?”

  “Three!” Lionel shook his head wondering for not the first time where Rylan received his information. He followed in Rylan’s shadow, elbowing his way ahead through the busy port. He dodged around a canister of fuel and raised his voice while ships mobilised with loud pops, some disappearing altogether as they activated various illegal tech.

  “Rover will get us there and my machine will work. Does work!” Lionel shouted.

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  “Just like your machine that would locate emerging black holes,” Lionel winced. “or the one to locate rare metals? I could go on.”

  Rylan had stopped, causing irritated huffs from the surrounding crews until they realised who it was and instead ducked around him with a mumbled apology.

  “Please don’t.” Lionel looked at his boots.

  “Look.” Rylan rested his hand on Lionel’s shoulder. “Captain Wyatt has a good crew, it’s mayhem out there but he’s going to get in and get out safely, his ship will avoid the bandits and we’ll get a fair share of the spoils.” His eyes lit up. “Scales, teeth, claws, blood, we could be rich by the end of the day!”

  Lionel sighed. If he were rich he could tinker to his heart's content; prove his concepts over time with the luxury of resources.

  The dock continued emptying with unprecedented speed and Rylan still waited for his response.

  But the searcher had found something! His own device was designed to alert him to the highest-value item, and it wasn’t pointing towards the celestial sea. How valuable did it need to be to compete, even to outrank a confirmed dragon death! He took a step back, his decision made.

  Rylan nodded seeing the resolve on his face. “See ya, and good luck.”

  Lionel sprinted in the opposite direction.

  Rover was parked at the lower landing - the most affordable lot. He slid down several metal ladders earning a couple of disgruntled shouts from the manager but even they wouldn’t chase him down during an inter-ship announcement.

  He continued down leaving the largest scavenger ships behind, and passing the personal space yachts usually reserved for visiting authorities; anyone who had enough credits to travel interplanetary got off The Dump as quickly as possible. And he skidded to a halt by Rover, patting the metal exterior softly and listening to its familiar clink.

  Rover was a small ship, barely large enough for a crew of four but luckily he piloted solo. He had built Rover from scraps and every piece was carefully assembled. He knew some designers worked with surgical precision agonising over every piece of metal, whereas Lionel would be considered more of a butcher but he considered Rover perfect; a patchwork quilt of scrap metal with the exposed rustic wiring simply adding to its charm.

  “Harriet. Come online.”

  A smooth feminine voice pinged into existence.

  Lionel, how can I help you today?

  He smiled. That was the attitude he needed.

  “Bring Searcher online.” He swung his captain chair around, a repurposed office chair made of soft, albeit damaged leather held together with minimal duct tape, and started pulling on various levers to program his takeoff.

  Rover creaked as it bobbed away from the gangplank.

  Searcher is, she paused, delayed.

  He grimaced - delayed. That was the polite programmed word for broken.

  Without pause, he grabbed a screwdriver.

  Just a few growing pains he thought as he opened a hatch and swung below the main deck into the heart of the ship. Wires laced overhead and he half-crawled, half-wiggled to find his creation. He unscrewed the panel, his creation flashing a muted orange and emitting a dull beep.

  “Harriet, guide us away from the dock. We’ll be active shortly.”

  The engine rumbled to life with a clunky roar as he twitched a few wires, dug in his pocket for a spare fuse and with a quick bang on the side of the box he heard a whirring sound.

  Searcher online.

  Lionel gave a grin like an evil genius and hurried back to the captain’s chair. He had wasted enough time already.

  Inputting coordinates. Programming jump.

  Lionel was almost shaking with anticipation. He looked at his screen to see where he was going.

  “Dead-naught Milky Way?” He grimaced. Dead-naught like in the name like in nature; nothing there.

  Are you sure you want to do this?

  Was even Harriet doubting him now? He thought he had fixed that glitch.

  With barely a chance for regret, he buckled his harness, hit the launch button and prepared for the jump of a lifetime.