Not for the first time, Lionel glanced back at Rover, wondering if he was making the right decision. He rarely second-guessed himself to this degree but then again he’d never been hiding a dragon on his ship. He quickened his pace; the faster he could pack his belongings and get the hell out of dodge the better.

  He scanned his identification and walked into the Scavenge Hub. It was a large circle of elevators and various pathways spread off like spokes of a wheel each designed for a different level of sorting the scrap. Bots zipped past following their scheduled programming collecting and dropping, metal, nuts, bolts, rocks, space debris and just about anything that could be scavenged, before cycling through the same endless cycle. After living here most of his life, he barely even registered the clatter and scrape of materials as they were dumped and organised through various conveyors. Anything immediately useful found its home on The Dump, mostly for repairs but anything valuable - that was shipped out faster than a solar flare. Unless any light-fingered opportunist managed to liberate it first.

  Usually, there was a long line for the elevators but today Lionel was the first and only person in line. He squirmed at the eerily abandoned station as the doors hissed shut and propelled him upwards with a speed that had him bracing himself.

  Scavenge Hub elevators only travelled to the middle deck with multiple secure sections of elevators that continued to the private quarters. Lionel watched The Dump flash by. It was shaped like a children’s spinning top, instead of staff rooms below, the lower decks were all assigned for sorting, floors of magnets and eddy currents, that flowed onto high speed rotors constantly whirring away and other bays for high speed extraction meant that his room was a few floors above the main-deck which housed the cafeteria, bars, taverns, gyms and general recreations. He brushed off his jacket as the elevator opened and he was assaulted by a wall of noise.

  Central Ring was never quiet but this was something else entirely. Bar and tavern goers spilled into a street party, music burst out of doors and windows; violins, guitars and drums had been uncovered from dusty corners and their music enticed dancers into a conga line around the deck. When he stepped out it was to a round of cheers as someone passed him a fruity red drink that he hadn’t paid for. He was pulled along like a float in a parade, a path meandering through the revellers.

  “Lionel! Lionel!”

  He spun around unnecessarily as Forest collided into his waist, almost bowling him over.

  “We're rich! Can you believe it? Rylan put me on a cruiser so I didn’t see much of the action but I’ve made more than three months my wage!” He was bouncing on his toes, one hand still swinging in Lionel’s.

  “I’m pleased for you.” Lionel ruffled his hair, still trying to process the impromptu festival.

  “Rylan promises that I can go out again in a few days,” his voice raised above the music, “but I’ve never seen a party like this before either.”

  Lionel’s brain was playing catch-up. With everything that had been happening on Rover, he had almost forgotten the dragons that were being scavenged nearby. It sounded like the first rotation returned and had made a bank of credits.

  Aura’s mom.

  The thought turned his stomach. He didn’t feel like celebrating.

  What if it had been Aura?

  He felt like he was doused with icy water. How quickly something could change. Their bond was barely beginning but he could already sense her worry at his turmoil of emotions. He tried to reassure her through their fledgling connection but it was a muddle.

  The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

  “- even did a loop close enough to see one of the dragons.”

  “Forest, slow down.” He said pulling him into a hug mostly to muffle the stream of speech.

  They’d known eachother since the orphanage. Which was the name for anyone who was dumped on the scavenger ship young enough not to remember anything else. Most kids' parents were incarcerated or had a debt large enough that they sold their kids into work. Lionel wasn’t sure who his parents were but his family was right here.

  He heard Forest’s voice muttering against his shirt.

  “He’s just excited.” Rylan's voice boomed from behind. He weaved through the crowd, leaning closer to Lionel’s ear, “I was about to send out a search party for you.”

  Lionel avoided the inquisitive look as Rylan backed up, searching his face for clues.

  “Go enjoy yourself Forest, or I might find you a ship that leaves tomorrow.”

  Forest's eyes grew wide as he ducked into the festivities. Lionel couldn’t help but laugh at how quickly he disappeared. Even he half-expected Rylan to haul him back by the scruff of his shirt.

  “You’ve been gone longer than our first scavenge. Where did that infernal machine send you?”

  Lionel shook his head, conscious of all the ears around. “Far enough away that I had some engine trouble before I could make it back.” He shrugged checking the time.

  “Somewhere to be urgently?” Rylan asked.

  They had slowed the flow of traffic enough to earn a few odd looks and Lionel was almost sweating under the scrutiny. He wondered, not for the first time, if Rylan could read minds and would suddenly know he was named Dragon Rider.

  “It’s just been a long trip.” He said, wiping his hand over his face hoping to erase the guilt there. He was about to abandon his closest friend without so much as a word of reason. By his logic it made sense but in practice guilt and homesickness already gnawed away at him like acid.

  “I just came to give you this anyway.” Rylan tossed over a block.

  “Credits?”

  “I figured your trip might be a bust. But mine wasn’t.”

  “Just how much have you been giving away?” He tried to push the credits back on Rylan who simply held up his hands refusing to accept it. “Us orphans need to stick together.”

  “And how many credits have you given away? Enough to leave The Dump?” It was his turn to scrutinise Rylan.

  “And then who would look after this place?”

  By this place, he only meant the orphans. Loyalty ran thick between them all.

  “Rylan…half the dump dreams of leaving.”

  “And go where? Really? Can you picture me starting at the bottom on a new ship?” He flashed a bright smile that lit up his face, “I don’t want to be an engineer or a navigator or an officer! I’m a lifer. I’ll still be here, grey-haired and making sure the new kids don’t get bullied onto the worst scavengers. Even if I’m doing it with a walking stick.”

  At least Lionel would always know where to find him.

  Someone called Rylan’s name and he turned. “Look - don’t go anywhere ok. I want to hear about your trip but I’ve got to settle this. Just five minutes alight?”

  Five minutes. Enough time to disappear in the crowds. Rylan hesitated as if sensing Lionel’s thoughts, enough that he might have stayed. But who would predict it would be the last time they would see each other?

  Once Rylan was out of sight, Lionel counted to ten and then threaded through the crowd to the other elevators. The Dump was the only home he’d known, but he couldn’t hide a dragon here. And from the moment he acknowledged his interface upgrade his whole priorities had shifted.

  The ride to his cabin was a quiet one. He scanned to enter his room, which was on the smaller side but welcoming.

  Trinkets collected from his early scavenges dotted the shelves, and his meagre collection of clothes hung neatly in the closet. He selected the largest backpack, so big he thought Aura could fold into it in a pinch. He knelt to pull a small chest from under his bed and drew his set of blades. He planned to hunt with Aura and wanted to be prepared. He sheathed the largest blade, almost a short sword at his waist. Blasters and guns were banned on home ships, they were only supposed to be used to clear large space debris and self-defence from creatures that hunted in unclaimed space territories, not that that stopped the occasional shooter in the empire but it drew a harsh punishment to carry a gun onto a ship. They just did too much damage. Blades however were allowed for self-defence. Still, he tucked the hilt beneath his thick cloak so as not to stand out and started grabbing other essentials.

  Anything of use was thrown into the bag, rope, navigation tools and maps he’d collected over the years, extra credits and clothing. He ran his hand over his trickets picking up a puzzle box from his first flight with Rylan running his fingers over the spiral crest imprinted on it, a Knick-knack from a noble family that found its way here. He slipped it in his pocket and with a final look he checked his room, there wasn’t much to take but it felt like he was leaving a world behind. He adjusted the backpack, locked his door and headed out.