Galactic Cargo

The landscape of Planetoid:1382H slowly rolled by for the lone salvager astride the astral TVM, the metal treads stirring up a pink dust that merely hung in the air before resettling. The scene was composed of an array of variable shades of red that formed the convoluted cliffs of verillium, giving the appearance of heat, an astral purgatory, though it was far from it. The temperature gradient would dip to -145ºC in the shade and barely make it into the -100ºC in the weak light of the solar sun of the Orion star system. The graying space suit kept it's wearer warmed to a marginal 15ºC, still not enough to prevent the gooseflesh that would rise when entering one of the shaded areas.

For Callie Johnson, known as CJ by her coworkers (the few that there were), this was a typical reclamation mission and not one filled with much promise. Some entrepreneur on Colony A had picked up the rumor that a satellite from earth had last transmitted its coordinates from the vicinity of this planetoid before all communication with it had ceased. Now Mr. X, as she liked to call him, was willing to pay Astral Reclamation Services (ARS) 500K in credits for the recovery of this satellite, in the firm belief that it had crashed on P:1382H in the early part of the 21st century. CJ could almost guarantee that it wouldn't be found, knowing that Mika Corporation would have been on it, rumor or not, long before this. None the less, she had taken the assignment just in case it wasn't a fallacy. If it panned out, she could sell out her shares of ARS and finally be free of her family.

Her slow progress across the barren terrain suddenly came to a jarring halt. CJ pressed the starter button on the console with a heavily gloved finger. She let out a string of curses with such heated anger; the face shield of her helmet fogged and formed frozen crystals in a thin coating along the outer edge. In a slow, almost lethargic motion, she engaged the Comm. switch on her left wrist.

"Allius! Goddamn it! I thought you said the battery was fully charged on the Rover II?"

Crackling silence was broken by the heavily accented voice, sounding like a deep south French man, of the pilot to ARS-950SS, "It was CJ. Must be the temps down there draining' it. Wan' me to send Grady down fer ya?" the Cajun replied. He was the last of his kind and, for that, CJ was sorry. He was a damn good pilot, even a better friend and kind to a fault.

The young woman gritted her teeth; Grady was the last person she wanted to be with. The ship's mechanic had been dogging her to go out with him whenever they were on R&R. There was something about that man that grated on her nerves. She didn't know if it was that left eye that had a tendency to turn outwards when he was tired or his "better-than-thou" attitude. Either way, she just plain didn't like him.

"No, I'm not that far from the shuttlecraft," she spoke with a touch of anger she couldn't hide, "I'll walk back. Maybe I'll see something I missed from the Rover."

Before Allius could speak another word, she broke off communications. Dismounting the Rover II, she pulled her pack from the netting that covered the back of the Rover. It contained the few basics she needed when she made planet-side visits. Amongst them was a small handheld mattock, a Geophysics Analyzer VI (a combination densimeter and seismograph), various containers for rock specimens, and a voice controlled micro-comp. Lastly, she checked the laser handgun strapped to her hip, assuring herself that the cold hadn't affected the micro-energy pac as well. Satisfied that she has all she needs, she begins her walk.

The going was slow with the high gravity, the bulky suit not helping to make the trek any easier, but the exertion at least warmed her up some. Onward she trudged for the better part of two hours before catching sight of the silver shuttlecraft sitting like a scarab amidst the dull red backdrop.

As she closed the distance between her and the shuttle, something about the terrain alongside the craft didn't look quiet right. It was too round, lacking the angles that dominated the rest of the planetoid. Her young face furrowed with a questioning expression, moving closer, slipping the GAVI from her pack, turning it on to scan the hulking mound. First a tiny gasp slipped through her delicate lips, watching the rapidly scrolling figures across the tiny screen, were followed by high-pitched screams of delighted discovery.

Flipping on her Comm, she continued to scream, "Allius! Allius! Get the hell down here fast! I found it! We're so freaking rich!"

Running her gloved hand over a red dust coated section that tapered outwards, slowly revealed a badly faded, but still discernable red, white and blue American flag. In a low whisper, she spoke out-loud to herself; "Finally, I'm going to be free from the salvage business.... and my so-called family."