Jackpot (short story)

Jackpot cover

"Jackpot" is a science fiction short story by Pierre Mortel, set in a desolate desert planet where the protagonist, Nemyu, dreams of escaping her harsh environment. The narrative follows her and her companion, Jurga, a damaged robot, as they search for crashed spaceships to salvage technology.

Characters

• Nemyu: A Jackal who dreams of leaving her planet and is determined to salvage technology from crashed ships.
• Jurga: A Robot Legion soldier with critical damage to his memory storage, who assists Nemyu in her plans despite his pessimism.

Plot Summary

Nemyu, a Jackal, and her companion Jurga, a damaged Robot Legion soldier, navigate a desolate desert planet in search of crashed spaceships to salvage technology. They discover a wrecked cargo ship and hope to find valuable parts that could improve their situation.

Spoiler

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Full Short Story

Nemyu looked at the sky. The night shimmered with countless stars. Each one of them was a sun, and around these suns millions of worlds were turning. Millions of horizons, an infinity of riches and adventures were shining above her, out of reach.

“Your people have been looting ships for generations, it is likely other survivors have been killed before me. It is the logical decision: a witness could try to reclaim his possessions, or cause trouble for the tribe,” Jurga said.

She was born on this desert planet and it seemed unlikely she would ever leave it. She took a sip from her water-skin, shifted her weight on the rusty metal roof and raised her lupine head towards the stars again.

“How many times do I have to tell you, I don’t care about logic”, Nemyu replied. “A stranger from the stars, severely injured, and I’m supposed to squash you like some bug? No way. I may loot the dead, but I don’t make them. Besides, I wanted a chance to try and fix you up.”

That was where her chance might come from.

Jurga had a slight twitch and sparks flew out from under his left shoulder plate. “You did an… adequate job.”

She squinted as she looked up towards the sky. A tiny trail of light flew over them. Nemyu perked up, her pointed ears twitching with excitement. No doubt that it was a spaceship blazing through the atmosphere.

“Yeah well if they hadn’t kicked me out I’d have fixed you right up with the tribe’s workshop and you wouldn’t be having these random power surges. You’re lucky I was the one to find you; most of those idiots couldn’t fix a toaster to save their lives.”

“This one’s going down fast! Jurga! Did your sensors catch it?” From the ramshackle shed Nemyu was sitting on, a synthetic, deadpan voice answered.

“But now you are unable to leave the planet. Solar radiation impairs spaceships. You would need to use a wormhole, but the tribes control them.”

“Affirmative. I am running calculations on speed and trajectory. Our equipment is inadequate but I can safely say that… This unidentified ship will crash at least two thousand four hundred and twelve kilometres away from our current location.”

“Big deal! We just need to find enough tech to pay them off. If we found even a single flux capacitor, we could buy our ticket offworld and leave this dust ball behind. All we need is just one a lucky break.”

Nemyu slumped back down to the sheet metal roof. She growled in frustration.

“That is statistically unlikely,” Jurga shook off a small lizard climbing his leg. “My internal memory storage may have been critically damaged, but I have not forgotten that I owe my continued existence to you.”

“Ugh, why do they never crash closer to us?” “Because the territory we are located in, due to the gravitational forces and the anomalies specific to this planet…”

“You repaired me,” the Robot continued, “ and you gave me a new name. Hence I will assist you in your plans, however futile they might appear to be.”

“Yeah, yeah, we’re in a dead zone, I know…” Jurga emerged from the shack with his usual jittery walk. He wasn’t a Jackal like Nemyu, but a Robot Legion soldier. His limbs had soldering marks in several places and the desert sands had chipped his paint. Sometimes when he moved suddenly, sparks flew from the wires beneath the plates. He had seen better days.

“Wholesome and depressing… Never change, Canhead,” Nemyu yawned, then looked at the sky. The stars were fading as dawn spread its light across the horizon. “Time to hit the sack,” she said as she jumped off the shed’s roof. “In an hour, it’ll be hot enough out there to roast a beetle in its shell.”

He turned his optic sensors towards Nemyu. “Are you experiencing emotional distress? Would it improve your mood to learn that this is not technically a dead zone? Ships incapacitated by the solar radiations are just 99.3% less likely to crash within five hundred kilometres of us rather than anywhere else.”

She knelt next to a metallic hatch that stuck out from the ground and opened it with a grunt. “Get down there and recharge. We need to be well rested tomorrow, I want to go and do another sweep on that wreck in the eastern canyon. We could have missed something good.”

“That does cheer me up by 0.7%. Thanks, Canhead, you always know what to say,” Nemyu quipped grimly, picking at a bit of food stuck between her fangs, “If only we could get to better territories. In my old tribe, we saw at least one crash a month.”

They spent the day waiting for the sun to go away. The air outside was trembling with heat. Their underground shelter wasn’t much more than a metal container, with a rudimentary air conditioning system and scattered piles of supplies.

Jurga stared at her, his internal components faintly humming.

Nemyu slept in her hammock while Jurga sat immobile, several cables jutting out from his back as the solar panels outside sent energy to his batteries.

“You cannot go back there. You were cast out. Because of me.” The Jackal sat up indignantly. “Don’t say that! It’s because those scavengers wanted to kill you. I couldn’t allow it.”

When they left the shed, the sun was setting. The sky was red with long purple stripes of clouds across it. It was still so hot that Nemyu had to wrap her paws with rags to protect them from the burning sand. They removed the tarps that covered their vehicle, a salvaged Robot Legion bike that had been extensively modified to hold the two of them and as much tools and scrap as they dared.

“That’s a small cargo hauler, Canhead! And it’s almost intact. Almost looks like a controlled landing. The pilots must have been alive until they met that big rock.”

After a couple of attempts they were able to get the bike going and they set off into the desert.

“They might still be,” Jurga said. He equipped his gun. “And they might be hostile.”

They rode into the deepening night. Jurga drove while Nemyu sat behind him eating some dried meat. After a while the dark shape of a broken ship appeared in their headlights.

“I doubt it,” Nemyu said as they approached the ship, “but I know this baby is our ticket out of here!” “It does not hurt to be careful,” Jurga replied. “When your tribe found me, I was too damaged to move. Had I been operational, I would likely have defended my ship.”

This was an old wreck that they had gone over several times. Most of the good stuff had been picked off but there were still some things that they might be able to trade with a neighbouring tribe in exchange for some food and tools.

“Then I’m glad you were mangled beyond recognition,” Nemyu nudged Jurga with a smile.

Using detectors, they canvassed the area without finding anything new. Nemyu decided they should strip some metal from the main carcass. Enough of it could buy them a couple weeks of supplies.

The carcass was partly buried in rubble and sand, only one side door remained usable. Nemyu used her blowtorch to cut through the locks and it fell open with a loud clang. The cargo hold was filled with large crates tied to metal shelves, forming several narrow aisles.

As they were prying off a plate, Jurga’s components crackled and a sudden burst of energy went through the metal. Nemyu let go of it, swearing.

Nemyu yelped excitedly. “Oh, this is good. We’re taking everything we can! I don’t care if we load up the bike so much that we have to push it back to camp!”

“Those power surges are getting worse! One of these days you’re going to fry me like a lizard at lunchtime.” She sucked on her scalded fingers to alleviate the burn.

“It would be advisable to make several trips,” Jurga said while Nemyu pried open the closest crate.

“My apologies. It is impossible to control th…r…” Jurga interrupted himself as his optical sensors focused on a light in the sky. ‘A spaceship has entered the atmosphere in uncontrolled descent!’

“Not happening. Some of the tribes must’ve caught this on their scanners. You can bet your shiny metal behind that they’ll be sending raiding parties. It’s lucky that we were so close, but they'll be here by tomorrow. We need to grab the best stuff and get out of here. Oh, look at this!”

Nemyu turned around, looking above her. ‘That’s either huge or it’s the closest one I’ve ever seen!’

Nemyu pulled a device from the crate she’d just opened.

They rushed to the bike and activated the scanners. Jurga had a slight twitch as he processed the readings.

“This is used for power generators. There’s ten of these! I think we’ve hit the jackpot!”

“The projected impact zone is one hour and twelve minutes away from here.”

She sauntered over to the next crate. Jurga saint nothing. He was staring at the markings on the crate, his processors humming. He had seen these before…

“Yes! I told you! Statistically unlikely my ass! Our day had to come!” Nemyu was packing up their tools as fast as she could.

His corrupted memory only brought up incomplete facts, but the notion of danger was insistent.

“That is not how statistics work,” Jurga grumbled as he started up the bike.

“We should confirm the ship’s crew’s death,” he said, “Now.”

They sped northwards, weaving between jagged rocks and towering cacti. Up ahead in the distance, a bright light flowered then died down: the ship had crashed.

Nemyu let out an exasperated sigh. “You’ve seen the cockpit! There’s no way they survived that.” “I must insist. Even if they are dead, there might be valuables to loot in there.”

They drove on until they reached the wreck, stepping off the bike at a cautious distance. The large angular shape of the ship lay half buried at the end of the trench it dug, flames dancing on one of its engines and a plume of dark smoke rising into the night. The cockpit had smashed into a rocky outcrop, but overall the ship was in decent shape, considering.

“Now you’re speaking my language, Canhead” Nemyu smiled as she adjusted her headlamp, “Say no more!” The alleys were cramped and labyrinthine, and some of the shelves had toppled over during the crash. It took them a few minutes to make their way to the cockpit.

Nemyu eyed it hungrily.

“See? Dead as a doornail!” Nemyu smiled from ear to ear. The cockpit had been severely crushed by the rock formation it ran into, and was now a jumbled mess of metal, barely accessible.

Amid the wreckage, a large armour-clad Human sat on a seat. A bent steel beam had punched through his chest.

The Robot got up with difficulty; several cables had been ripped off his gun, and he was limping heavily.

Jurga looked around with suspicion. He reached towards a metal panel and pulled on it, revealing another seat.

“Come on Jurga, let’s go!” Nemyu propped him up as they advanced in the darkness, listening intently for any hint of the next attack. She had taken a mean blow to the face and her right eye was swollen shut.

This one was empty. “Well… that’s not ideal…” Nemyu said. She glanced at the dead pilot. “That guys was stacked… he must’ve been some kinda soldier, right?”

They reached the door and jumped out; the bike was there, a hundred metres away. The dying flames on the ship’s engine were painting orange highlights on the cold, blue desert night.

Jurga bent down and picked up something on the floor. It was a large gun, half shattered by the impact of the crash. A word emerged from the glitchy haze of his memories.

“I’ll drive the bike, just get in the back.” “Negative.” The Robot was facing the door, gun at the ready. ‘This is our chance. We fight.’

“A Battle Brother,” Jurga spoke slowly, “A genetically enhanced elite soldier.”

“This guy already messed you up! Your gun is shot and you’ve got sparks flying out from everywhere! You won’t make it!”

Nemyu looked at her friend who appeared frozen in though.

“If we leave now, you may never get off this planet.”

“...It is likely he is unarmed at present,” there was something like relief hidden in his deadpan tone, “But we must be quick.”

“It’s not worth dying for, Jurga! Be logical about this!”

Nemyu was staring into the silent, dark space of the cargo hold behind them. Her upper-lip twitched nervously.

Flames danced into Jurga’s optical sensor as he replied. “I thought you did not care about logic.”

“Either he ran away or he’s in there... waiting for us. Let’s go back towards the door. We’ll load up the bike and get the hell away from here. Good thing you brought your gun.”

Nemyu couldn’t help but chuckle. “Your processors must be more damaged than I thought… Alright Canhead, let’s do this.”

They walked silently into the pitch black maze of crates. Jurga went first, clearing each turn, gun at the ready. As Nemyu passed a broken crate, she glimpsed its contents : powerful processors worth a small fortune.

Standing at his side, she got into a fighting stance, claws at the ready. She peered into the darkness of the cargo hold. “We don’t want to fight you, Human! But if you attack us again, we’re gonna kill you!”

She was about to kneel down and grab some when something moved just beyond the crate. A massive hand grabbed her by the throat and shoved her into the shelf behind.

There was no answer. “It is highly unlikely,” Jurga spoke softly, his gaze fixed on the door, ”that he understands your language.”

A wave of panic washed over Nemyu’s body as she made out the snarling face of a Human warrior, badly burned and caked in blood.

In the dark, something big suddenly hurtled towards them. Jurga opened fire and the target burst into pieces, sending bits of metal flying everywhere. The Robot’s gun jammed after the first shot, the damaged mechanisms inside clicked helplessly.

Without thinking, she turned her headlamp on, blinding the monster. She sunk the claws of her other hand into the wrist joint of his armour and the Human dropped her with an enraged roar.

“Did you just blast him…” Nemyu stopped mid-sentence. ‘It’s a crate! He threw a crate at us!”

Jurga appeared at the end of the aisle, firing a shot into the Human’s chest. His armour took the hit but he was still knocked back into a shelf. Several crates fell down and Nemyu had to roll out of the way.

Suddenly the massive shape of the Human burst through the door, his charred face twisted in crazed anger. Caught off guard, Nemyu tried to dodge him but he caught her by the collar and threw her in the air.

When she got up the Human was gone.

She landed hard, feeling her ribs snap as she hit the floor while the Human leapt at Jurga.

Without a word they hurried off towards the exit. They barely made a few steps before the Human burst from behind a shelf right in front of Jurga, digging his armoured fingers into the Robot’s gun, sparks flying as he slammed him to the ground.

He tackled the Robot to the ground, grabbed the faulty gun and threw it away. Straddling Jurga, the Human punched him with his armoured fist, the sound of metal on metal ringing out.

With a scream, Nemyu leapt at him and clawed at his face, forcing him to let go of Jurga. The Human punched Nemyu in the head, knocking her down, then drew back into the shadows before Jurga could fire at him.

Nemyu got up, wincing with pain, feeling dizzy.

Jurga was barely moving, his chest plate cracked open, sparks flying everywhere. The Human grabbed the Robot’s head with both hands and started pulling with a grunt. There was the pop of metal screws snapping and a whirring noise.

The sun was almost up. She forced herself to drink from her water-skin and drove off into the desert. The heat was already rising but they had to get back to camp so that she could start fixing Jurga. She glanced back at the Robot behind her.

The Human kept pulling, trying to rip the head off, as the whirring turned into a crackling scream. Nemyu clenched her teeth, trying to force her legs to run towards her only friend.

When they would finally get off this planet, she was going to buy him platinum hydraulics, a golden head… I’ll get him whatever he wants, she thought. He’s earned it.

There was a flash as a sudden power surge went through Jurga’s body and into the Human’s armour. He let out an agonising scream, holding on to the Robot’s head for a second before collapsing over him.

A wisp of smoke rose from the joints in his armour, and as Nemyu approached them with an unsteady gait she could smell the sickening odour of burnt flesh.

Gathering what strength she had left, she pushed the Human’s body off Jurga and knelt next to him. “Jurga? Can you hear me? Come on, Canhead, say something!”

Jurga was lying on his back. Nearly half the cables in his neck had been snapped off, his head and chest were cracked and caved in by the Human’s blows. Sparks flew intermittently from his frayed wires.

He did not reply.

“Hey! Stay with me! Hold on! Say something!”

Nemyu’s voice cracked.

“Come on, come on, come on! I take it back! I don’t care about my lucky break! Let’s just go back to our shed and watch the stars together!”

Behind her were all the riches she’d ever wished for, and she’d never felt more alone. She started sobbing. There was a whirr as Jurga’s optical sensor blinked a couple of times. His head had a slight jolt, then he spoke.

“Are… you exp… experiencing… emotional d… distress?”

The pitch of his voice was going up and down from all the damage he’d sustained. Nemyu gasped, trying to choke back her tears.

“Would it im…improve your mood to know that I am still technically operational?”

“Shut up, you look like a pile of scrap metal!’ Joy shined through Nemyu’s voice. She bent down over the Robot and reconnected the few cables that were still salvageable.

“Yes… It appears you will have to load the bike yourself.”

“I’ll start with you, then!”

After installing Jurga on the bike and hooking him up to an emergency power bank, Nemyu quickly gathered as much as she could of the most valuable tech on the ship. By the end the adrenaline had totally worn off and she was exhausted, starting up the bike with shaky hands.

The sun was almost up. She forced herself to drink from her water-skin and drove off into the desert. The heat was already rising but they had to get back to camp so that she could start fixing Jurga. She glanced back at the Robot behind her.

When they would finally get off this planet, she was going to buy him platinum hydraulics, a golden head… I’ll get him whatever he wants, she thought. He’s earned it.

Fun Fact

As part of the mission for the short story, OPR has released a model "Jackals Ship Investigation" which has a Robot Legion (presumably Jurga) leaning against the ship wreck.

Resources

• Jackpot by Pierre Mortel (Short Stories)
• Sirius Chronicles Vol. 1 - Grimdark Future Shot Story Anthology