1 Debris

Have you ever paused to consider how small our lives truly are? How little we seem to matter in the vast expanse of the universe, and how fleeting the impact of our actions might be in the grand scheme of things?

Standing still, gazing at the sheer enormity of Mother Earth, you can't help but feel captivated by her divinity. Her boundless majesty renders our existence both insignificant and extraordinary.

Two years ago, I boarded a space shuttle to join DebrisX, a private company specialising in space debris management. My assignment was at their grand space station, a marvel of engineering that revolved in the low Earth orbit ring.

It was the first time I laid eyes on her, not from the ground, but from space.

Our massive blue world unfolded before me in all her glory.

A peculiar sense of euphoria erupted within my chest, shifting my very perception. She was breathtaking, her vast greenery intertwined with shimmering blue oceans, glowing under the gentle caress of sunlight.

Someone once told me that astronauts often feel an overwhelming wave of elation upon ascending into space for the first time.

They weren't lying.

Yet, as I marvelled at her beauty, a wave of bitterness washed over me. It struck me how utterly insignificant we, the so-called master races — humans, elves, Wildrens, and Animori — truly were when compared to her immense, unyielding scale.

***

"Come in! Come in! This is Redrooster, Section 11 Command Centre!"

A sudden, static-laden voice crackled from the comm speaker in Jack's cockpit. The blue glow of the holographic HUD screen flickered to life, illuminating the face of a man in his early forties.

Gaunt cheeks were carved with deep indentations, and the wrinkles etched across his forehead seemed even more pronounced under the dim light. His dull eyes, tinged with a faint red hue, hinted at a brilliance that had once burned brightly, perhaps twenty years ago.

Strands of silver hair drifted in the zero-gravity environment, giving him an almost ghostly appearance.

Clad in an orange full-body jumpsuit of heat-resistant composite fabric, the material clung tightly to his malnourished, tall frame, accentuating his frailty. Pale as a ghostly sheet, his skin added to his overall unassuming look. He wouldn't be called 'handsome' by modern standards.

On a good day, maybe a six, if the person rating him had a drink or two first.

Jack's hand instinctively reached for the comm button overhead. "This is Jack speaking! Jack Squire, employee number 0423…" he replied after a green light flashed once.

His voice was deep and somewhat mysterious, according to his wife, who loved to listen to him ramble on and on.

Awaiting the reply from command, his gaze drifted lazily to a digital locket with a picture of his son. It illustrated a handsome boy, aged ten, who shared all of his genetics. The same eye and hair colour, he was smiling like he was the happiest boy in the galaxy.

Jack found himself grinning as he watched the locket drift weightlessly. He knew what he had to do. Once he completed this orbital mission, he could return home to his lovely wife and son.

This was his last mission, last dance with puny bots, a cylindrical-shaped and compact robot with two six-dimensional axis arms for debris handling.

People called them Petite Node Interface, or P.N.I. in short.

As he gazed absentmindedly at the country of Germund from the sight port, he wondered what his family was doing.

Was his wife doing fine, raising his son on her own? Had they been eating well?

No matter. They would be set for life next week when he returned with his pockets loaded. Just imagining it, he could almost taste her home-cooked meals.

It wouldn't be long now.

The comm crackled again, breaking the silence.

"Yo, Jack! This is David McDonald, speaking! Do you read me?!" A hologram of an overweight man in his fifties beamed into the left corner of the HUD. Despite his weathered complexion, his smile never once faltered.

"Hey, David. I read you loud and clear," Jack answered with a smirk, glad to see a friendly face on his final mission. He clicked a button, switching the bots to stand-by mode.

One after another, the thrusters of his puny bots came to life, dissipating rippling blue heat.

"Terrific! It's good to assist you today, my friend!" David exclaimed, letting out a roaring laugh.

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

"The sentiment is mutual!"

"System checking… one… two… three… and… we're all green!" David announced as he commenced the start-up protocol. He monitored the readiness of each puny bot in Jack's fleet.

Abruptly, his thick brows furrowed. "Fifteen?!" he yelled in disbelief, raising an eyebrow.

"Well, I don't have much choice—" Jack started, but David cut him off.

"Don't you get it!? This is a life-threatening condition! What if you ended up with brain damage?!" his friend scolded, his voice tight with concern. "Most people can barely handle six of these, six! Even an Armatus Knight would be pushing it to manage ten, at most!" The weight of his concern bore down, a frustrated edge to every word.

Jack took a long minute to study the coordinator. "Don't be such a worrywart, my friend. I've done this countless times in the simulation…"

David exhaled deeply in defeat. "Simulation isn't exactly accurate for gauging your mental load. I don't want you to fry your brain over this, we still need—"

"I'm resigning after this mission," Jack cut in, his tone respectful.

"What?!"

"I'm going back to Earth after this, David. So… pretty please?" Jack added, using his most persuasive, charming voice.

"Okay… You've got to be shitting me like those magicians of Osten!"

"Pfft! You just called the arcanists magicians?!" Jack almost couldn't contain his laughter. "Like juggling bottles and pulling a rabbit out of a hat? That type of magician?"

"Aye! Those loonies are still stuck in the medieval age, just like we were five hundred years ago," David sneered, his tone dripping with disdain for the mages of the Osten Empire.

Rare as they were, most people in Dunkelheit dismissed their existence as nothing more than myth.

"If they were real, do you see any of them floating around with you?" David smirked condescendingly, leaning back in his chair.

Jack pretended to sweep his eyes around. "Well, no…" he replied with a shrug.

"See? The point is… technology is the only thing that's real. With it, we've conquered the moon! Look at Luna Base, our headquarters, where I breathe fresh, clean air every day," he argued passionately.

Three centuries ago, the Dunkelheit Empire had completely terraformed the moon, transforming it into a habitable world named 'Luna Base'.

"Alright, alright. I get your point!" Jack interrupted, cutting David off before he could launch into another hour-long speech.

Jack knew his friend too well. David had grown up in one of Dunkelheit's sprawling capital cities, surrounded by endless steel and technology.

It was all too monotonous for Jack's taste.

Jack, on the other hand, hailed from Germund, a land under the reign of the Osten Empire, where true arcane magic was said to exist.

Though he had never witnessed it himself, he believed in its power with unwavering conviction.

Despite their different backgrounds, they were as close as two peas in a pod. DebrisX embraced them both without prejudice, fostering camaraderie among its diverse crew.

Normally, Jack would have found their debates amusing, but today his mind was elsewhere. He was eager to get this mission over with.

There was a big fish to fry, and he couldn't afford any distractions.

"I just got the mission details... Patching through now," David said smoothly, his fingers gliding over the control panel. The sheer number of buttons would have been intimidating to most, but he handled them effortlessly. "All systems green. Handing control protocol over to you now, Jackie!" he added with a grin.

Jack's blue screen lit up, displaying multiple monitors with live feeds from each bot. He scanned the status indicators: fifteen green dots.

Everything was in working order.

Sliding his hands into the control gloves, he flexed his fingers, manipulating the multi-directional buttons. Each bot moved flawlessly in response.

"Perfect," Jack muttered, satisfied.

"Neato!" he replied, nice and short.

"Well, what a way to resign! This one is easy but labour-intensive. Collecting a compartment from the Alexandra wreckage. Its location should appear on your map, right about… now," David informed.

The map on Jack's screen pinged, a red dot appearing about one hundred kilometres away.

"Thanks. I'll be taking it from here. Moving in now!" Jack spoke into the comm.

"Best of luck, my good man!" David replied with a salute.

As thrusters spat flame, Jack's fleet of puny bots accelerated toward the wreckage, his primary bot leading the other fourteen in a triangular formation dictated with flawless precision by his fingers.

Amid the sprawling wreckage of the Alexandra, an ancient, colossal ship measuring five kilometres in length, Jack navigated the scattered debris of twisted metal and floating sheets. His eyes scanned the remains, calculating each movement.

There, amidst the chaotic storm, he spotted it: an opening leading into a large metal accessway. With steady hands, he guided his craft into the narrow corridor.

The automatic lights on the puny bots flickered to life, casting a cold glow over the passage. The path was cluttered with floating fragments of metal, suspended in eerie stillness.

These relics had remained frozen in time, untouched for over a century. A profound silence pressed in from all sides, amplifying the chill that crept up his spine.

"It feels like death in here," Jack murmured to himself.

Beep! Beep! Beep!

A frantic sound blared from the comms, warning that something was zeroing in on one of his bots. Jack's eyes snapped to the HUD. A broken puny bot, its limbs shattered and sparking, was drifting straight toward him.

He motioned to the controls, effortlessly swerving out of the way.

"...Another puny bot… Odd…" he muttered. It was impossible to discern if that bot had been here for a century or just recently.

There was no decomposition in an enclosed space like this.

Thud!

A deafening impact vibrated through the cockpit.

"AHH!" Jack shrieked as a humanoid figure slammed against the sight glass, its dead eyes wide and vacant. The lifeless body of a male figure, clad in a personal protection jumpsuit, was stuck to the vessel.

His mouth hung open in a ghastly expression, teeth bared as though he had been screaming in agony at the moment of his demise.

His skin had turned an unnatural paleness, veins visible beneath the surface like dark, twisted threads. As Jack's gaze lingered, he realised the body wasn't human.

The man had the unmistakable features of a Wildren, his sharp, cat-shaped ears marking him as one of their kind. The body's presence was a haunting reminder of the brutality of space.

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