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So much had happened, so many scandals we had uncovered. The killer satellite scandal, ENOS, the scandal surrounding the first settlers in Stanton. And what had changed? Nothing. Everything went on as before. The UEE didn’t care, the megacorporations continued to rake in money at the expense of ordinary people, the Nine Tails became more and more of a nuisance and the free peoples tried to survive somehow. And last but not least, Crusader Industries had made me a special investigator.

Was I still on the right track? Maria had once told me that it was important to know your own origins, the source from which you sprang. Only then would you find yourself and the strength that allows you to grow beyond yourself. I came from the desert and grew up in the wreckage of a crashed spaceship. So back to the roots.

It was these thoughts that brought me here, to the desert on the moon of Daymar. I sat alone on a high sand hill and gazed into the distance. Up to the horizon and beyond, there was only the eternal sea of sand. In between were a few dunes, rocks and large sandstone monoliths. The desert brought me clarity. Its simple rules for survival left no room for unnecessary things, they focused my thoughts on the essentials. Recycle what others throw away. Waste nothing. Accept the gifts that the desert gave. Honor the dead by gratefully accepting what they left for the living to survive.

That’s how it was going to be until I figured out what my path would look like. Sliding more than walking, I made my way down the sandy hill and climbed into my Vulture. For the next few days, weeks, however long it would take, I was going to live aboard and roam the desert. The engines of the small salvage ship made the grains of sand tremble. Then the vulture lifted them into the air and the sea of sand glided past beneath me.

There were plenty of opportunities on Daymar. Wrecks of spaceships, abandoned settlements used by the Nine Tails as shelters and camps. And if need be, there were emergency shelters where you could always find something to eat and drink.

So I wandered through the desert. Like a ghost, I would appear in one place, take what I could use and fly away again until I became one with the sand in the distance and disappeared into the eternity of the desert.

One evening I stood on the metal platform next to the cockpit of the Vulture and watched the sunset. As Stanton’s star disappeared behind the horizon, something magical happened. The grains of sand stopped glittering. A strong wind stirred up the sand and then the stars began to glitter. It was as if the wind carried the glitter from the ground into the sky.

It was the moment when I realized what my successful path looked like. How I had survived so far. I mostly stayed under the radar and only emerged when it was worthwhile and when I had the strength to avoid being crushed in the concert of the powerful by working with friends. I always maintained my independence and freedom.

As I stared out into the night, I remembered the stories from my childhood about the sandworms. The Valakkar was a powerful creature of the desert. It lived under the sand, was usually hidden from view and only emerged when it was worthwhile, when there was something to get. I too was a creature of the desert, I too stayed under the radar and only emerged when it was worthwhile. Was that my way? The way of Valakkar? A life as a scavanger? Recycling what others threw away?

With this thought, I continued to roam the desert on the moon of Daymar until one day I spotted a faint signature near the junkyard. As I got closer, I saw two green cargo containers lying in the sand. The scanner indicated that they contained Gasping Weevil Eggs. These eggs of a small beetle were forbidden in the UEE, extremely hard to get and expensive. This find was the jackpot.

I immediately extended the landing gear and landed next to the two containers, which were some distance apart. When I opened the rear ramp, I looked directly at the green 4 SCU container. Using the hand tractor beam, I maneuvered the container into my cargo hold. The Vulture really didn’t have a large cargo hold and the container filled the little space available quite well.

I wondered whether I should get the other container as well or leave before someone else came and claimed the cargo for themselves. The scrapyard on Daymar was a dangerous place. And there had to be a reason why the containers were here. A reason that had to do with the use of force.

Unfortunately, greed had won out. I went back to the sand and looked for the second container. Stanton’s star was already low, exactly in the direction of the container. I could hardly see anything against the bright light. Squinting my eyes, I tried to distinguish between the rocks and the container. It took quite a while before I could make out anything that was at a right angle. I aligned the tractor beam and activated it. The container slowly floated towards me.

The second container was bigger than the first. It was obvious that it wouldn’t fit in the Vulture’s cargo hold. It would have made sense to leave immediately, but I wanted to give it a try. The first attempt was bound to fail. I had no chance of getting the container into the cargo hold in addition to the first one.

Blinded by greed, I made a second attempt. Maybe the second one would fit without the first. It was bigger and therefore more profitable. The first container landed in the sand again with a thud. A small cloud of dust swirled up. Then I carefully steered the second container into the cargo hold. Suddenly I heard a loud metallic thud. The container had crashed into the wall at the front of the cargo hold.

I switched off the tractor beam and looked at the result. The container was sticking out of the back of the cargo hold. So I couldn’t close the rear ramp. So everything went back to square one. The large container ended up in the sand again and the smaller one in the cargo hold.

Finally, drenched in sweat, I closed the rear ramp and wanted to make off with the smaller haul. Just as I was climbing up the ladder in the Vulture, I heard drumming. It sounded like hundreds of stones hitting the hull. I rushed into the cockpit to the deafening noise. I looked at the displays in horror. The shields were already on the verge of collapsing and the hull was taking its first damage.

I quickly activated the engines, took off and shot at full boost just above the ground. An enemy ship was displayed on the radar. The rear camera showed a fighter giving chase and sending angry bullets after me.

Panic rose within me. My lightning start had given me some distance, but how was I supposed to get out of this in one piece? I was powerless against a hunter. I couldn’t win a fight and I couldn’t win a race either. My only chance was to escape into the quantum tunnel. But the chances of success were very slim.

The high G-load pushed me deep into the seat as I jerked the control stick backwards. The brown sand disappeared from my field of vision and all I could see was the sky. By now, my shields had completely collapsed. The hull status indicator flashed red again and again. The fighter landed several hits. Then I activated NAV mode. My speed continued to increase and I was quickly out of the atmosphere. However, the calibration to the nearest NAV point took what felt like an eternity. The hull indicator kept lighting up red. Then the Quantum drive displayed “READY” in green letters. The Quantum tunnel swallowed me up.

After a few zigzag jumps, I finally reached the pirate station Grim Hex in the asteroid belt of the moon Yela. I hoped to be able to sell the Gasping Weevil Eggs here. However, my hopes were quickly dashed. There were only three scrap yards where it was possible to sell them. One of them was on Daymar, but there was no way I could go back there now.

I had only just got out of the situation with my skin intact. Greed had almost been my undoing, and not for the first time. I had to focus on what would ensure my survival. At that moment, I remembered my parallels with Valakkar. He too was vulnerable if he stayed on the surface for too long and faced a superior force.

“Do like the Valakkar,” I said to myself. “Stay under the radar, only surface when it’s worth it and dive back down as quickly as possible.”

To always remember this rule and to always be aware that I was a creature of the desert, just like the Valakkar, I had a Valakkar tattooed on the side of my head and neck. The laws of the desert were my origin and my path.

Afterwards, I went to the old38 bar to see if there was anyone there I knew. Someone who might be able to help me sell the Gasping Weevil Eggs. And I also had some ship components for sale that I had found in the desert.

Translated with DeepL.com (free version)