Another day another derelict.
Ok, well it technically wasn't a derelict, but a seasonal mood was sitting in Rojer's mind with a childish grin cranking out terrible (for want of a better word) witticisms and bad puns. The truth was "Another day another abandoned, wrecked crashsite in the outzones" just didn't have the same ring to it. And if there was a more fitting alliterative phrase, it escaped him for the moment.
This one wasn't like any of the others he'd salvaged though. Usually they were the battered yet recognisable remains of corporate transports that hadn't quite made it through the blockade, or otherwise an old, cheap, blocky privately owned job.
This one was sleek. Even under the red dust that covered most of it, an even redder, shiny finish was visible. Shiny... phat lewt inside no doubt. The engines... that was weird. Sheilding his eyes from the mixed threat of blinding sunlight and sand particles, it seemed that the engines (surely they were engines) were attached by stantions to what appeared to be the front of the ship - pulling rather than pushing. It seemed odd that they hadn't broken off during the crash.
He approached the wreck and climbed up the raised sand that surrounded her, looking for an airlock, noticing a bit of rail-like landing gear protruding from the sand some way off...
Outside, the suns move on a little across the sky, extending and emphasising the shadows unnoticed in the afternoon light. A five fingered shadow creeps towards the wreck.
Inside, Rojer felt smug. A fully loaded cargo-hold. Enough for a few trips at least. The cargo was unusual too, though. It seemed to be mostly sacks. Not exactly the usual crates, just piles of sacks not ordered or stacked in any way in particular around the dark and dusty hold. The smug smile fell from his face as he stepped on a wrapped something that had fallen out of one of the bags. Instantly a hologram errupted from the package, spraying an image of a desert - in the centre a decorated tree and leets with red hats underneath attempting to wave as only a creature with no forearms can wave. A squeaky voice burst out:
"Merry Christmas, Rubi-Ka. And a leety New Year!"
Damn... a christmas card.
Rojer stamped on it until the leets shut up.
Surely there was some stuff in here worth taking though. He picked a sack at random and searched through it: A snowball fighting manual, more holograms, something sticky in a box, a novelty miniture hoverboard and a packet of disappointingly small gingerbread hecklers which he threw at the wall. They made a satisfying echoey clang.
They clanged again... wait that couldn't be right.
He looked up to the corridor that lead into the cargo hold. The dusty red light from outside was being obscured by a shadow that slowly walked it's heavy, clangy walk into the bulkhead door and stopped. The silhouette outlined what appeared to be a huge person. A trox maybe? An incredibly fat trox for that matter, almost spherical. Rojer opened his mouth to say something but the doorway silhouette got there first.
"You've been a very naughty boy!"
Whatever Rojer was about to say, he'd forgotten. Instead he just stood there with his mouth half open and a stupid expression to go with it. He watched as a second silhouette appeared from behind the first. Unmistakeable - an Ofab rocket launcher.
He dived for a pile of sacks to his right as the world exploded around him. Flying bits of a leet doll, gingerbread in his mouth and whatever that sticky stuff in a box was, it was now in his hair.
Great... Another Christmas on Rubi-Ka.
((Anyone got any other seasonal stories? :) ))
