Scrappers in the Void
A science fiction short story written by CaffinatedCorvid42/RTwo



 A derelict carrier ship ripped in half floats amidst the wreckage of a battle from ages past above a rust red moon. A retrofitted dropship slowly navigates through chunks of wreckage, towards the carrier ship.

   Aboard the ship three people in spacesuits sat in the cargo bay of the dropship playing a card game, two carrying plasma cutters on their backs and the third carrying an ancient terran hunting shotgun on their back.

   A voice from the cockpit shouted to the cargo bay “We’re about five minutes out from our salvage zone. Yall better be ready!” 

   The three scrappers in the cargo bay shifted and stood up, packing their cards into their pockets. The one with the shotgun stood by the cargo bay door, watching out the window staring at the massive ship they were about to start looting.

   The rickety retrofitted craft shook as the cargo bay opened, the three kicked off the floor of the bay and drifted toward the tattered and torn exterior of the ancient ship of war.

   Lights flickered on from the helms of the scrappers as they all pushed themselves with the help of propulsion systems in their suits toward an exposed room of the ship.

   The scrapper with a shotgun grabbed the edge of the hole in the ship's hull and scanned the room with their light. Inside the room were tables, a fridge, and a now free floating microwave.

   The scrapper at the entry point waved its two comrades to come in as they flung themself into the room by pushing off the hole’s edge.

   “Magnetize.” said one of the plasma cutter carrying scrappers over a choppy radio. The boots of the three scrappers clanked to the floor of the room. The third scrapper brought up their left arm and a hologram emitted from their forearm.

   The hologram glowed a dim green and fuzzily displayed the adjacent halls of the ship. They pointed to a large room “We’re heading here to scrap some of the navigation computers today right?” The radio static made the words barely understandable.

   The two with plasma cutters began to cut through the door of the room so they could reach the room they seeked. The one with the shotgun stood idly looking at the door. One of the scrappers who was cutting kicked the door and it flung into the inky darkness of the halls.

   The one with the shotgun went in first, their light only providing a small window through the darkness into the hall. The light drifted over a skeleton in a grayed out uniform full of holes. “Holy, that guy spooked me for a sec.” Said one of the scrappers from behind over the radio. The other two chuckled lightly and drifted down the hallway toward their objective.

   The old ship creaked and moaned idly as the three scrappers passed through the long abandoned corridors. Old bits and bobs floated about in the halls. Ahead of the team of scrappers a door slammed open and closed violently. 

   “Guess there’s still power. . .” said the one in front with the shotgun approaching the door. One of them looked at their holographic map, “There’s a door behind us we can take to go around, it’ll cost more time though.”

   The three turned around and found what appeared to be a hatch to a maintenance corridor. The one with the shotgun pulled the hatch’s lever and pulled it up. As the hatch opened a gust of wind pulled some papers from the hall in.

   This corridor was much smaller compared to the three person wide halls of the ship as only one person could really go through. They all went down the corridor slowly, all that was there to see was dust until the corridor reached its end.

   The maintenance corridor opened to a large room filled with desks and computers, papers and folders floated about the room. An almost skeleton-like robot sat with its back to the door at the otherside of the room.

   “That ol’ security bot seems pretty intact, think we should chop it up and take the parts with us?” said one of the plasma cutter wielding scrappers through the radio almost uninterrupted by static. The other two scrappers shrugged, the one who suggested the idea walked over to the robot.

   Their plasma cutter ignited, filling the room with a blue glow as they cut into the legs of the robot. The other two sat idly, the one with the shotgun leafed through some papers they caught floating around.

   There was a small but shared feeling of comfort between the scrappers as they took their rest. But this rest came to an end when a sudden shock wave came from the robot and the scrapper taking it apart. 

   Glass unmistakably from the scrapper’s visor drifted out into the room, the robot pushed off the wall with a singular red glowing eye. It kicked away the now deceased scrapper with its uncut leg and raised its arm cannon at the closest scrapper, who happened to be the last one with a plasma cutter.

   The scrapper the bot was aiming at pulled themself around and behind a desk and yelled over the radio “Hey, shoot that mother fucking bot already man!”

   On cue the one with the shotgun fired three shells at the general direction of the robot. The shotgun pellets ripped through loose debris. About twelve pellets hit their target, yet the robot turned itself toward its attacker unfazed.

   The one who hid grabbed their plasma cutter and turned it on, and pulled themself along the room’s floor toward the robot as it fired a slug at the shotgunner.

   The slug barely missed the scrapper, they ducked down under a desk and reloaded their shotgun. 

   The robot’s leg jet drifted them closer to the shotgun wielding scrapper. The robot calculated for the lack of its other leg effortlessly. The scrapper with the plasma cutter flung themself at the robot, aiming the line of plasma at the robot’s gun arm.

   The robot turned, its rear sensors alerted it that there was an assailant behind, but the robot’s long dormant motors didn’t turn fast enough. The desperate scrapper made a cut through the brutal robot’s shoulder joint.

   The robot’s arm was disabled, but it wasn't combat ineffective yet. The robot’s other arm gripped the scrapper’s gripped it with extreme strength.

   The robot’s hand cut through the suit, and then began to cut through the scrapper’s arm, then bone.

   Oxygen flooded out of the suit where the scrappers arm once was.

   The shotgun wielding scrapper was the only one to remain. They made a sharp, painful, yet important realization “If I die here, all of our lives will be in vain.”

   Then the shotgunner jumped out to a corner and fired three shots at the robot’s head. Most of the pellets connected.

   The robot was more tattered than before, but it trudged on and flew at the last scrapper. But the scrapper had a plan. They pushed off of the corner toward the ceiling and mid flight shot at the robot once, boosting themself to the otherside of the room.

   The robot slammed into the wall and pushed off toward the scrapper as they reloaded. In the last few seconds before the robot reached the scrapper they shot the robot square in the torso two times and the head once.

   The robot’s eye blinked off. It’s metallic body thumped into the scrapper’s chest. They sat there for a minute, gasping for air. About a minute later they pushed the robot corpse off their chest and affixed it to their back along with a plasma cutter and the robot’s missing limbs.

   After that was done they went to their fallen comrades. They went into the breast pockets of their suits and unplugged and took a small, neigh identical tablet from each of them. 

   Then, the scrapper pushed off and made their way out of the carrier ship, their blank black visor reflecting off into nothingness.