The planet Dross

In the Outlands of the new galaxy that we are calling the Forge, the planets and systems are scattered. Some stars have nothing but dust and debris circling them, others may have a handful of planets, most of them toxic or inhospitable to humans. One such system in a sector that has become known as the Blighted Shoal contains the trash planet of Dross. Well before humans flew into the Forge the planet Dross was a gravitational dumping ground for the rest of the Shoal but since then we have been using it to store all manner of technological debris. See the ships that brought us from our home galaxy didn’t all get to the Forge in the best condition, and all the smaller craft, the gunships, battle cruisers, orbital space stations, all that sort of machinery that came out worse for wear after it was all said and done, well it had to end up somewhere. Not much that the Five Banners can agree on but dumping their garbage into the Blighted Shoal and letting Dross pull them in, that seemed to sit well with everyone. Dross has no sentient natives, nothing more than some rodent like creatures with half a brain cell between the lot and about a hundred species of bugs, most small enough you can squash them with your boot, a few large enough they could eat you and still have room for your friend. So on top of gravitational debris the planet has been pulling in for who knows how long, it has now become the home of the galaxies largest junkyard. No part of the surface of the planet is visible after a generation of ships and old tech were thrown into its orbit. From the surface the sky looks like it has about a million stars though. Lights twinkle in every part of its orange tinted atmosphere not from stars but because the ships and wrecks that get resigned to Dross dont just crash to the planet. They enter its upper gravity field and then drift as a sort of halo or aura around the planet. Their drift is on slowly decaying cycle though so eventually those nearest the planet lose the fight to stay in the air and they do fall in fiery dramatic fashion to add to the wreckage on the junkyard. The air is choked with poison gas and dust, bugs that can eat thru metal and will happily devour a person and every surface is sharp and metal, rust covered and potentially dangerous.

Despite all that, despite how much it would make sense for no human to ever step foot on this planet, there is a single settlement. It also goes by Dross, same as the planet. The original name was Dross Station but the folk that lived there got lazy and just started calling the station Dross and they dont really think much about the planet name. A normal settlement would only last until the first unlucky spaceship came crashing down into it and killed everyone. Dross(the station) is different though. It’s a giant mechanized platform, six metal legs extend from it and move the whole station and its maybe hundred inhabitants around the surface. Artificial Intelligence units on the station are running constant mathematical calculations to monitor the dying orbits of the ship graveyard above the planet and make sure the station is always on the move, avoiding the rain of metal from the sky that would otherwise end the very lucrative economy of salvage. Scrappers and collectors make their livings in Dross by daring the environment, venturing out and collecting what sort of old tech, material and usable goods they can find in the old heaps. Its dangerous work and the average native doesn’t live to see their thirties, but for those that can make their way, those that get lucky well there is a small fortune to be had. There are many more that scrape by in the worst conditions, that live in squalor and manage to eke out a life amidst the trash. Pinching every credit, desperate for food or gear to help them survive. The station has never held much more than a hundred or so humans and maybe three of them are actually thriving, the rest are scraping by, hoping for a score, hoping that something might change their lives. Most are so poor they couldn’t afford to leave so they make do. Sometimes making do means less than legal options. The black market keeps more folk alive and with food in their bellies than the legitimate economy of Dross.