Scrappers Part III

Heading Home

The idea of wiping off this gunk was the one thing that kept me going. We had to get back to the cruiser if I wanted to snag a cloth and get all the sweat and blood off me. As Ruggy and I shot the embryo sacks with the Harvester infants, the liquids had splattered against us. The mix of sweat from the intense heat of the spacecraft crash added to the disgusting factor. I couldn't wait to get out of this mess and back to the cruiser.

We were scrappers, though. It was our job to get whatever goods there were from the location the operator gave us. It was that simple. What we did today, I had a hard time grasping. We killed children. Harvester or not, they were living conscious beings. The idea that Harvesters should be spared was an unpopular opinion. I knew it. That's why I didn't share it often. At the moment, I guess I lost control of myself. Ruggy managed to slap me back into the routine, and we annihilated the infants.

After our rover arrived, and we started doing what we did best – scrap. The Harvester's spacecraft had plenty of raw materials to gather. The damn gene-freaks are smart with their tech. Most of it had self-destruct functions built-in. It was unlikely we'd be gathering anything of value other than the metal.

That was true. Another job done. We loaded up the rover and returned to the cruiser. The beast we shot left blood and footprints in the ash. It retreated deeper into The Lost. That wasn't our mission. We'd report the finding and get back to base. More than anything, I wanted to get out of this wasteland, get to that cloth. Plus, the old world was unsettling. Every time we entered The Lost, I found it hard to believe that there used to be another civilization before this mess.