There was good money to be made in deep-space salvage. You just had to be one of those people who were good at pushing your thoughts to the back of your head. After all, space was a dangerous place – there was no sense in thinking too hard about why these things needed salvaging in the first place.
He was one of those people. It was easy to ignore the death and destruction and mishaps and misadventures behind whatever had happened, as long as he was getting the work.
As far as he was concerned, the cargo canisters and scrap he collected had always been there. They weren’t the remains of a heated skirmish, or items jettisoned in a last-ditch attempt to make a ship light enough to get to where it was going. No; to acknowledge that would be to acknowledge how much his job relied on bad stuff…
View original post 579 more words