The desert sun rose quietly above the mudflats. Streaks of light radiated across the sky as a few hundred cracked and dishevelled buildings poked out at a small decrepit bay. It was a solemn sight, but human activity could be observed and a few ships were seen hovering overhead. The roads were paved and crackled, small amounts of shrubbery cascading across the desert landscape.

“There it is West New-Arakkis… old Arakkis was nicer but most of it was torched by Collective troops a couple of years ago. Maybe ten or twelve.

Here is where we sell some of our cargo. Offload merchandise in exchange for goods. The rest goes to Archius. As you can see I didn't show you one portion of the vessel when we first arrived. The bulk of the ship. The cargo hold.” Ellis breathed.

He led me down the ladder and into a corridor I had rarely visited. Inside he pulled open a hatch that was barely noticeable on the floor. Inside was the largest variety of scrap metal, spare parts, guns, and wood I had ever seen.

“I have been scavenging for many weeks now. This bonkana wood here sells high in Archius and settlements, the parts are needed in factories and the weapons I sell or meltdown to the Archius Guard. Almost one hundred tons of scrap metal and enough spare parts to build a ship.”

He tapped his hand on an enormous pile of orangey-brown logs.

Suddenly the ship halted causing me to be thrown forward.

“Sir…. We are cleared by the sheriff for landing.”

The hovercraft came fast. Two ruff-looking scavengers approached and waited for us to land. Waving commands at the general they directed us to a safe platform where several mud greased workers came out to unload the cargo.

The general came out and approached a scruffy-looking human who wore a silver flight helmet, it glinted violently in the sun.

“Morning Mr. Dart”

“Mornin Ellis… How much do we have?”

“1.34 tons of scrap, plus 10 yards of the coil and the capacitors you ordered.”

“I'll give you 12341.32 quands and a free fuel refill….

“Sounds good”

“How come you're late?”

“Picked up a dropper on the way. He repaired Sparky”

“Here… he did?”

The sheriff looked around to a hoard of maintenance workers who swiftly stepped backwards.

“Yeah, so this time my ship will have an armoured guard so don't place any more of your thugs to apply for a job”

“Yes.. No harm intended I’m sure… is that a Kestle Uniform he’s wearing?”

Ellis turned to me and handed me a brown cloak

“My fault”

“Sorry… Best cover that up there's still a bounty on your captain, old Ellis here.”

“So this is the drop?”

He walked all around me and carefully watched my every move.

“He ain’t look like he's injured. What happened to you?

I stood back startled by the blunt nature of the question.

“Nothing… nothing happened to me”

“He's a convict. Trespassed into Collective Space...they exiled him because he was a politician that couldn't be touched.”

“Political?” I replied

“Don't be so modest… you were pretty popular” Ellis breathed

The man stood there for a few seconds. His eyes flashed with memories.

“Hmmm… I've been their kid. Exiled 12 years ago. Hang in there. This planet isn't the dump it seems, we still have radio contact with outsiders and shipping allows most commodities to be smuggled from the north”

“Thanks” I muttered in confusion,

He waved at his workers and the ship's hatch came down with a whirl. Then he placed the contents of a pouch into the general’s hands.

“Thanks”

“Have a nice visit. Remember just mention my name and you'll be fine!”

Sparky stood guard on the ship's deck. An energy rifle in his hands and two guns in his holsters. Around him, a large consistency of space dockworkers covered in fright. Avoiding eye contact with the watcher.

“Convict? What do you mean?”

“People will ask questions if they find out you dropped. They would want to know what you lost.”’

“So best not to tell them?”

“Exactly”

“Where are we going?”

“There is a tavern down here … we need to see the Sheriff and I have something else to drop off.

He pulled out three duffle bags and handed two to me.

“Carry on.”

The streets of New Arrakis were paved with poverty and mud. The once magnificent steel buildings were stained in a mixture of blood, sweat, and sand. The people who lived in its sun-scorched hills walked by and didn't want to have to look twice.

In the past, it had been a Collective research outpost, a masterwork of engineering equipped with the foremost technology known to the galaxy. Housing a small research staff of a hundred, they abandoned their project and compound due to lack of funding along with an influx of insurgent attacks. The settlers cleared what robotic guards remained and moved in. Surprisingly after only one bombardment from passing government fighters, the population was left to their own devices.

The preset generator and multitude of buildings fashioned an ideal place to start civilization if you can even call it that. Once we arrived at the town's derelict entrance two armed guards stood in front. They were hardened by the world around them their faces scarred from many battles and their guns half drawn, you could see their once pristine armour scratched and warped, the perils of many battles etched into the metal scars.

Ellis waved his hand and they let him past a series of increasingly taller walls. The inner portion of the town was less muddy but no more civilized. Scum and bandits filled the streets galavanting with a boisterous nature. Hanging around the dishevelled buildings and ruins of a former laboratory were crowds of undesirables. Citizens hardened by the endless horrors invoked by the wasteland. I dodged the arrival of an orange hover skiff and continued walking mud splattering over my rubber boots. A strange substance was pooling out of the sewer and onto the street.

For some time we wandered the winding mud-soaked roads, Ellis made various stops along the way unloading cargo and signing yellow-stained documents. A mercenary force seemed to run the town, followed by a few dishevelled police officers. They looked at us menacingly, one clutched a steel bat and played with it in his hand twirling it vigorously in the palm of his glove. A glint of sweat streaked down my face. Ellis turned to me.

“Don’t sweat” he said

“Were in the middle of a desert!” I replied

“It is classified as a wasteland and doesn’t sweat in front of police, correction” he mumbled.

The street had once been highly manufactured and was built on stable concrete however sand whipped in from the desert storms had strewn blanket over enveloping much of the former remains.

Galloping along the sidewalk I kicked a stone into the gutter to watch in horrifying shock as a gang of sewer rats devoured the rock, somehow their teeth had drawn blood from the stone. The stone then did the unexpected and lashed back with a ferocious claw causing it to cower in fright and the others to flee in terror.

“Strange” I whispered

Suddenly a group of citizens walked in front of us on the boards. All four police officers had disappeared from sight. The people seemed normal in the beginning, their faces covered in an array of wraps and armour, eyes showing no emotion. However, when they analyzed the area and were sure the guards had moved onto the next zone they swarmed Ellis as a viscous hoard of thugs. Brandishing knives, broken glass and makeshift weapons pulled off of the streets of the gloomy metropolis. Their leader spoke his gnarled face hidden by a blue-stained bandana.

“Going anywhere?” he hissed

“As a matter of fact we are,” the general shouted.

Ellis pulled out two pistols from his ragged cloak and I drew one hidden in mine. The citizens hesitated for a moment, their expression questioning the events and forthcoming, a few pausing to inspect their foe with beady eyes and twitching fingers. Ellis remained calm and stern almost smiling as he watched them squirm.

In the end, they incessantly cowered away to falling back into the endless shadows of a murky alleyway. Ellis holstered his pistol once more and I kept mine at my side. However, not all of the inhabitants were unkept lowlives and criminals. A few hard-working miners could be seen crossing the street to a nearby tavern and humble settlers searching for newfound opportunity were strewn throughout the lane running various stalls and markets.

A teacher could be observed lecturing young children on how to write Collective numerals through the mirky window of the town’s school. An old man ran up to the general, destitute and clearly dishevelled from his ragged clothes and gaunt face. Ellis pressed a few coins into their palm, whispering kind words as we worked our way up the street. Good is always found in the heart of evil, just as evil can be sought in even the brightest of times.

We walked patiently by a vast array of shrubbery and greens coming across a burned-out pod that was pushed onto the side of the winding concrete road.

The pod seemed to be a kind of mechanical craft and apart from visual signs of looting and scorch marks from welding tools, the citizens seemed to give it a wide berth. An aurora of fear is instilled in its wake. There were red design lines plastered on the side and a medium-sized powered steel door. A drill could be seen on the bottom, perhaps to stabilize the craft by digging downward or to ensure it could breach underground strongholds.

Ellis paused and inspected the tube, familiar with its shape and build he motioned for me to come to his side.

“Do you know what this is?” he spoke

“No… It looks like a ship escape pod according to my memory, however industrially modified to carry three times the weight.” I replied

“The collective often do not install information about their own systems to its own subjects. It is a drop pod, suitable for a squad of four droid soldiers. They often are seen when transport or large-scale cruiser is performing an assault or a vessel is being destroyed. Instead of landing, collective soldiers will shoot these into the ground and release squads of troops onto their foe below. Ceasing assets and neutralizing any residual anti-air or insurgent forces. Since cannons have a hard time taking out all of the pods which fall at an incredible speed, it is a barbaric yet effective way to fight” he answered

“Who would have sent it?” I asked

“This seems fairly old, possibly from the time of Arakis’s first destruction or when the mercenaries cleared the Collective from these buildings. The Northern Hemisphere of the Planet is completely run by the Collective and a small part by Archius it could have come from there.” he scoured

We continued to walk along the concrete passing shops offering a variety of contraband and regular items. One thing that particularly caught my eye was a heavily armed shop that sold a series of needles and chemicals. Its grimey windows were reinforced and barred. The door had a security camera placed out front. On the sign in front, it called itself a Cognitionist. The script was blocky and mechanical. When I raised my arm to point at the location Ellis quickly answered my question.

“It’s an information store, you inject the chemicals into your brain along with a series of microchips to gain knowledge.

Those were a relying factor in the downfall of society and caused severe separation of the rich, middle and poor class almost ensuring divides forever. Quite similar to the process you underwent and quite more uncivilized, brutal and expensive. The information in that building comes nowhere close to what lies dormant in your head, mere shadows, whisps in comparison.” He replied

I wanted to venture inside and peer among its dusty shelves and mysterious array of chemicals however he grasped my arm lightly and we continued to slither along the road.

On top of a nearby roof, a sharp cry was heard. Ellis whipped out his pistol, knocking a carton of cabbage to the side and blasted a lone figure who was hunched on a collage of shingles. The dead-eye shot had nailed him between the eyes causing the bandit to fall forwards and land face-first into a puddle of manure. Blood slicked out of the corpse turning the fowl water red.

Clutched in the dead man’s grasp was a large tube which when further examined seemed to be some form of an improvised rocket launcher. I hastily aimed my pistol and scanned the area around us. The streets had stopped dead, all inhabitants screamed and rushed for cover. Suddenly three more of the bandits appeared, two came from the alleyway and slashed Ellis in the hand causing him to drop his pistol.

He quickly dealt with them with three strokes of his own yellowed blade however he recalled his hand nursing it in his jacket. The third Bandit stood on top of a residential roof and pulled out a large sniper rifle, he aimed at Ellis but I was too quick, shooting him three times in the head before he even could fire. The makeshift armour he wore collapsed inwards as his body hit the roof and fell sinking into the mud below.

“Quick, let's get off the streets” he scurried

“What was that about?” I asked

“In case you haven’t noticed I have a price on my head” he whispered

“Where are we going again?”