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CHAPTER 1 — SCRAPS, SAND, AND STARVATION
The sun over Virel-9 wasn't really a sun—more like a tired ember hanging in a sky the color of rusted metal. Every morning it crawled up, and every evening it sank again, never quite bright enough to cut through the dust clouds. But it was all the planet had.
And for the teens surviving in the deeper Scrap Dunes, it was the signal to get to work.
 Work Day
Kario wiped grime from his forehead and pushed aside a chunk of broken hull plate. His gloves were torn again—tiny sparks leaked from the edges of the metal, stinging his fingers.
"Piece of junk," he muttered, wincing as a spark bit him.
"Quit complaining, kid."
Vexa hopped down a mound of scrap, her boots landing on a sagging starship door. She carried three coils of stripped wiring slung over her shoulder like trophies. "You found a power cell yet?"
Kario shook his head. "Everything out here is dead. Or booby-trapped."
Juno's voice drifted from inside the half-buried hull.
"That's why I'm looking. I've got steady hands. And brains."
A muffled thump echoed, followed by a frustrated groan.
"—and now a headache."
Sen climbed up the side of the mound with ease, his massive frame casting a shadow over everyone. He carried an entire panel of reinforced meteorite plating under one arm like it weighed nothing.
"We should head back soon," he said in his soft, rumbling voice. "Storm's coming."
Vexa glanced toward the horizon. A wall of dark sand churned in the distance, rolling like an angry ocean.
"Yeah. We push our luck too much, we get buried alive."
"That happened once," Juno protested.
"Twice," Kario corrected.
"Three times," Sen added.
Juno sighed. "Whatever. Let's take today's haul and go before the Scrap Wolves come out."
The Dangers Outside
The Scrap Dunes weren't empty. They never were.
As they gathered their finds into a battered hover-sled, a low, mechanical growl echoed across the metal fields.
Kario froze. "Did you hear—"
"Scrap Wolves," Vexa hissed.
From behind a pile of broken engine thrusters, shadowy shapes slinked into view. Their bodies were half metal, half flesh—patched together with scavenged parts, glowing eyes flickering like dying lanterns. Their jaws clicked with stripped gears.
Sen stepped in front of the group.
"Stay behind me."
The largest wolf sniffed the air, hydraulic legs hissing. It could smell exhaustion. It could smell weakness. It could smell them.
Juno's hands twitched toward his tools. "I can distract them—"
"No." Vexa grabbed his wrist. "We can outrun them if we're fast."
"We better," Kario whispered.
The wolves tensed.
Then—
Vexa shouted, "Run!"
The group bolted.
Metal clattered under their boots as they sprinted across the dunes. The wolves lunged, claws screeching on steel scrap. Kario stumbled, nearly falling before Sen swept him up with one arm and kept running.
Sand and rust kicked into the air behind them. The wolves closed in.
"Left!" Vexa yelled, skidding down a steep dune of crushed plating.
They slid, jumped, leaped over twisted pipes—all while the mechanical beasts snapped at their heels.
Finally, the wolves stopped at the top of the dune, snarling but refusing to descend. Something buried deeper spooked them—something even they feared.
The teens didn't look back. They never did.
 Rustbreak Deals
By the time they reached Rustbreak Outpost, the storm clouds were thicker.
Rustbreak sprawled through the skeleton of a crashed battle cruiser—corridors turned into alleys, engine rooms into markets, and the old bridge into a black-market trading center.
The air smelled like ozone, burnt metal, and desperation.
"Let's make this quick," Kario said.
The group split up to trade their salvage. For a couple hours, they bartered for food rations, water tabs, and replacement tools. Kario managed to fix a sputtering drone for a merchant and earned them an extra ration pack.
Juno stole two more.
(Sen pretended not to notice.)
Vexa tried to haggle for a new set of boots but ended up arguing with three scavengers and a half-drunk trader.
When they regrouped at the town's edge, the storm had begun swallowing the horizon.
"All right," Vexa said, tightening her pack. "Home before nightfall. And before the storm eats us."
"Or before the wolves come back," Juno added.
"Or the rust leeches," Sen added helpfully.
"Or the acid rain wakes up early," Kario muttered.
They all sighed.
It was funny how danger became exhausting rather than terrifying.
4. The Walk Home
The trek home was long but familiar.
Wind bit at their faces.
Sand scraped their skin.
Kario's stomach growled like a broken engine.
"Food can wait," Vexa said. "We make it to the container shelter first, then we eat."
"I'm so hungry I'd eat scrap," Juno groaned.
"You did that once," Sen reminded him.
"That was an accident."
As they crested the final dune—
their home came into view.
A patched-together cargo container wedged between two rust hills.
Their home.
Small, ugly, but theirs.
Kario smiled in relief.
"We actually made it back early for once," he said.
Then the sky screamed.
A sound like tearing reality ripped overhead. The clouds split apart as a blazing streak of white fire tore through the atmosphere.
A starship—sleek, silver, burning—fell from the heavens, trailing shards of glowing debris.
Vexa's eyes widened. "No way…"
Juno dropped his pack.
Sen stepped in front of them as instinct.
Kario's breath caught in his throat.
The ship plummeted, spiraling, sparks bursting from its engines.
It slammed into the Shatterfields—
only eight kilometers from their home—
and exploded in a shockwave of fire and cosmic energy.
The ground shook beneath their feet.
Silence followed.
Then Kario whispered the words that would change their lives:
"…Guys. That was a real starship."
But what chilled him wasn't the crash.
It was the faint symbol he'd glimpsed on the ship's hull before it hit the dunes—
a spiral of flowing water wrapped around a star.
The insignia of the Primordial Water Space Police.
And beneath it… another symbol.
One he wasn't supposed to know.
One most believed was only a myth.
ROPS.
The rebels.
Someone important had just fallen from the sky.
And they were close enough to reach him first.