I first arrived on Terracore some three weeks ago. I travelled via a hulking, mineral transporter jammed into the cargo hold. A stowaway like the others who couldn't afford a ticket for travel.
I dreamed of making enough money to survive, maybe start my own corporation and Scrap seemed to be the ticket for it. It was hard to come by both given the austerity of Terracore and the process of extraction. It would deter all but the most adventurous and desperate of miners.
I had a rough plan. Stay close to the drop site station. Venture out on foot and extract small amounts of Scrap at a time to not draw the attention of raiders in the area. I would repeat this until I had saved enough to upgrade my defences and the raiders would go after some softer targets. Then I would focus on a ship and some equipment. This would allow me to venture further out and stay in the field for longer periods of time without being compromised.
The smell of resin leather and dried sweat was overpowering aboard the ship and I was eager to arrive and step foot on solid ground again. I had no idea what to expect when we arrived on Terracore. But reality was much worse.
As the hold doors heaved and then swung open my eyes were blinded by a piercing sunlight which was soon blackened by the whipping sand in the wind. I fitted my visor and pulled over my hood before hurrying down the platform into the station.
I was quickly immersed into a sea of people. Semi-permanent tents, cargo containers and small buildings were scattered in every direction. All covered, in differing degrees by layers of sand. As if the world itself was trying to consume everything that came here and bury every structure under the shifting sands. The sound of voices was drowned out by the wind and if not for the neon fluorescent signs pointing out stores and bars, I would be completely lost.
The mineral transporter took off almost as quickly as it landed. Washing the station in yet another layer of sand before disappearing into the sky.
I wandered for about fifteen minutes until I found a garrison quarters with space to take me. I paid, with what little I had to ensure a month's stay and was shown to open rack with a few lockable trunks that would be my living quarters. I got to work assembling and testing my Scrap extruding tool and other electronic systems I had.
For the next three weeks, I toiled each day collecting a small amount of Scrap. Sometimes I would return to the station having had no trouble. Other times I would run into the raiders. The funny thing about raiders on Terracore is that they don't want to kill you. They just want your Scrap. If they kill you, that's one less person to collect Scrap for them to steal later on.
After three weeks I was able to purchase a small ship, a lost sentinel, affectionately called 'Thorn's Fury'. I think it held that name because the ship was basically falling apart but it's offensive systems still worked. I was just happy to have something that would help me keep the raiders at bay and let me focus on collecting Scrap. My next target was some new equipment.
Sitting at one of the bars at night I would hear some of the old boys, the weary travellers and miners, speak of another planet. One that sounded like legend but everyone was trying to get there. They called it Oceana.
