Nobody knows what a Junker looked like before the void got hold of them. What docks at your station now is a loose constellation of floating parts -- eyes, claws, sensor pods, half-organic processors -- orbiting a central mass like a junkyard achieving sentience. Part machine, part whatever they used to be, held together by thera-magnetic data linkages and sheer theological stubbornness. They eat electricity, breathe recycled ship air, and will trade you an eye for an audio receptor if ears are in fashion this cycle. The Kanarie claim common ancestry. The Junkers claim nothing. They just keep moving.
Junkers are a space-faring race that lives onboard massive Junker fleets like the roaming gypsies of old Earth. They fled the destruction of their homeworld thousands of years before, and the extended millennia in the void has not been kind to the Junkers. Extensive space radiation devastated their bodies. Slowly dying and suffering mass infertility as the centuries rolled by, they resorted to gene splicing, organ harvesting, and stasis technologies to preserve their race. If the astro-historians are correct and the Junkers of today are the ancestral descendants of the Kanarie, they shed no light on the appearance of the common Origin of the two species.
The Modern Junker consists of a collection of sensory parts that float and orbit a center mass; these remote parts appear to be part machine, part original Junker organic material and are coupled to the center by thera-magnetic data linkages. These short-range links transmit visual, audio, and other sensory information to the central nervous cortex and decision processor, forming the Junker's brain. In return, they receive regenerative energies that keep the wetware components of the remote organs alive. These linkages are incredibly resilient to outside interference. However, strong magnetic radiation can disrupt the data transfer, sometimes leaving the Junker blind or deaf and unable to control its extremities until the radiation passes.
Junkers appear to have long since eliminated the need to consume outside organic matter for sustenance; human scientists theorize that this was one of the early adaptions required for Ark ship space travel, as maintaining nutrients to a growing population would have led to inevitable food shortages. Junkers have refined their biology so that instead of food, they require a small but continual supply of power. This is perhaps why Junker ECell Tech is some of the best in the universe.
As a race, Junkers keep very private lives; how they breed or how their society is structured is not known. No known instances of another race being invited or allowed aboard a Junker Ark ship have been recorded. However, it is known that Junkers do exchange external parts from time to time, swapping an eye for an audio receptor or a mechanical claw for an extra foot pad. It appears this can be for many reasons, but anthropologists have also noted that at times, "Feet" or "Eyes" just seem to be the "In thing."
The Junkers have yet to find a world suitable for resettlement. Many suspect they have been traveling for so long that they have lost the desire to settle and prefer the nomadic lifestyle. While they have been offered plenty of viable worlds by Unicore, upon examination, they have simply come up with one reason or another for them to be deemed unsuitable, and so it never passes the Junkers Majority vote requirement.
Scientists also suspect that the millennium-long exposure to space travel has altered the Junkers' biology to such an extent that prolonged exposure to a sustained gravitational and magnetic field, as experienced planet-side, could be detrimental to their health. Junker scientists refuse to confirm such speculation.
Keth-Vorai ("The Chosen Ruin") -- not a planet. Not a station. A drifting armada of decommissioned archships welded together over centuries into a junkyard metropolis the size of a small moon. The ships weren't spaceworthy when the Junkers claimed them. That's never stopped a Junker. The atmosphere inside is marginally breathable if your definition of "breathable" includes industrial pollutants, coolant vapour, and whatever particulate sloughs off a reactor housing that hasn't been serviced since before Humanity discovered fire.
Keth-Vorai periodically collapses under its own mass. Entire sections implode as structural supports buckle under accumulated weight -- the Junkers call these events Collapses, capitalised and spoken about the way other species discuss weather. "Bad Collapse last cycle. Lost Deck Fourteen through Nineteen. Found some good hull plate in the rubble, though." They rebuild around the wreckage. The wreckage of the wreckage. Their sensory adaptation didn't evolve in forests or oceans -- it evolved navigating a landscape of rusting metal, leaking chemicals, and floors that might not exist tomorrow.
The Junkers insist Keth-Vorai is temporary. They've been insisting for over two thousand years. The Great Renewal doctrine holds that their real homeworld is still out there, waiting to be found. Every planet Unicore offers gets rejected on some technicality. Too much gravity. Wrong magnetic field. Insufficient spiritual resonance. The vote never passes. The search continues.
Salvage-cant -- a pidgin language built from fragments of every species' technical vocabulary. Heavy with equipment terminology, material names, and structural descriptions. A Junker can describe the metallurgical composition of a hull plate in three syllables but needs a full sentence to say "hello." Standard translators handle it poorly because half the vocabulary is onomatopoeia for the sounds machines make when they break. The word for "danger" is the sound a bulkhead makes before it shears. The word for "opportunity" is the same sound, slightly quieter.
Junkers are named after the first useful thing they find. Naming ceremonies are brief and practical: Rivet, Spool, Axle, Bracket, Gasket, Conduit, Weld, Shim, Flux, Cutter
The Junkers, wanderers of the cosmos with origins shrouded in mystery, carry with them a profound spiritual heritage that has been both a guiding light and a burden through the eons. Central to Junker spirituality is the belief in the Great Renewal, a future event of such monumental significance that continues to shape their culture, actions, and very essence to this day.
The arc ships that house the Junker populations are not just vessels of steel and circuitry; they are floating microcosms of a society that has evolved under the harsh dictates of survival in the void. Within these behemoth constructs, a caste system took root, segregating the Junkers not by wealth or occupation, but by proximity to the ship's radiation shields. Those relegated to the bowels of the arc ships, where shielding was weakest, bore the brunt of cosmic radiation's cruel touch. Their bodies withered, their genetic material frayed, and over generations, they became a people in decline, piecing together existence with scavenged organs and mechanical augments.
Amidst this struggle against the decay of their flesh and lineage, a myth took root, growing in the hearts of the Junkers like a beacon in the endless night. It tells of the "Clean"; the original Junkers, unsullied by radiation, disease, or the corruption of time, preserved in stasis deep within the sanctum of the oldest arc ships. Encased in vaults shielded against the ravages of space, these progenitors are said to slumber, waiting for the day when their descendants find a new world worthy of the Great Renewal.
The Great Renewal is envisioned as a time of awakening and restoration, where the Clean will emerge from their timeless sleep to share their untainted genetics with all Junkerkind. This event, it is believed, will herald the dawn of a new era for the Junkers; a return to biological integrity, a cure for the ailments that have plagued them for millennia, and the start of a life tethered to solid ground under the light of a nurturing star. The Renewal is not just a restoration of health but a rebirth of Junker society and culture, a chance to reclaim a heritage lost in the dark corridors of space and time.
This belief in the Great Renewal drives the Junkers in their relentless search across the stars. Each world they encounter is scrutinized, not just for its suitability for settlement, but as a potential cradle for the Renewal. Yet, despite offers from Unicore and other entities, no world has yet satisfied the stringent criteria set forth by Junker lore. Some speculate that the Junkers have grown too accustomed to their nomadic existence; others whisper that no planet can truly offer the sanctuary needed for the Renewal to take place.
To the outside observer, the Junker doctrine of the Great Renewal might seem a fanciful hope, a myth perpetuated to bring comfort to a people marked by misfortune. Yet, to the Junkers, it is the essence of their identity and their hope for the future. It is a belief so ingrained that it transcends mere religion, becoming the very fabric of their existence.
As the Junkers continue their endless voyage through the stars, the legend of the Clean and the promise of the Great Renewal remain the guiding stars by which they navigate. It is a faith that sustains them, a dream that one day, beyond the next nebula or within the shadow of an undiscovered planet, they will find their new home and begin anew. The Great Renewal stands as a testament to the resilience of hope in the face of oblivion, a reminder that even in the darkest reaches of space, the light of renewal cannot be extinguished.
| Name | Junker |
|---|---|
| Sight | Varies |
| Hearing | Varies |
| Touch | Varies |
| Smell | Varies |
| Taste | Varies |
| Special | NA |
Junkers, the enigmatic space-faring race known for their resilience and ingenuity, face a unique challenge from the outset of their existence. Born into the lower echelons of their society aboard colossal arc ships, Junkers inherit a legacy of survival against cosmic adversities. A stark testament to this struggle is their sensory capabilities, which are significantly impacted by their living conditions and genetic heritage. As descendants of the lower caste, they emerge into the universe with their senses at a rudimentary baseline, a blank slate upon which their journey and interactions with the galaxy will etch their path.
At the commencement of their saga, Junker players are granted 7 sensory points to distribute amongst their five basic senses: Sight, Hearing, Touch, Smell, and Taste. This allocation system reflects the Junkers' modular and adaptive biology, allowing for customization based on the player's preferences and the character's intended role within the universe.
Starting with all senses at 'None', Junkers must carefully decide how to allocate these points to enhance their sensory capabilities. Each point can elevate a sense by one level, evolving it from non-existent to minimal, and further along the spectrum towards average or beyond, depending on the player's strategy and aspirations for their character.
Despite the broad spectrum of possibilities, a pattern emerges amongst Junkers venturing into Unicore society, seeking to forge alliances, accumulate wealth, and perhaps, find a cure for their race's genetic plight. The it's common knowledge that the average Junker one might meet typically has sensors to at least allow efficient social integration, and is generally found as follows:
| Name | Junker |
|---|---|
| Sight | Average |
| Hearing | Average |
| Touch | Minimal |
| Smell | None |
| Taste | None |
| Special | NA |
This configuration balances the necessity of navigating and interacting within a diverse universe while adhering to the constraints of their initial sensory point allocation. Sight and hearing are prioritized for their immediate value in communication and awareness, essential traits for any being venturing into the vastness of space. Touch, though minimal, provides a necessary tactile feedback loop, while smell and taste are deemed luxuries that can be compensated for through technology or simply foregone.
The initial allocation of sensory points is merely the beginning for a Junker character. The universe is rich with opportunities for augmentation, adaptation, and growth. Racial feats, technological enhancements, and the experiences garnered from their adventures allow Junkers to refine their senses further, surpassing their initial limitations.
This journey of sensory enhancement is not just a quest for personal betterment; it is a race against time and fate, as every Junker yearns for the Great Renewal. It is a belief that drives them to explore the unknown, to amass Creds and knowledge, all in the hope of reversing the genetic decline that has plagued their race for millennia.
The sensory path a Junker chooses is a reflection of their aspirations, their role in the cosmos, and their contribution to the legacy of their people. As they navigate the challenges and marvels of the galaxy, their senses will not only define their interactions but also shape their destiny in the quest for the Great Renewal.
Mindshard Compatible. Only the central cortex requires backup; orbiting sensory components are hardware, not consciousness. Restoration requires a new cortex unit; existing peripherals relink automatically. See Mindshard for details.
Junkers don't walk. They float.
The central cortex of every Junker houses a localised grav-disabler; a field generator that nullifies the artificial gravity plating beneath them. In the zero-G and low-G environments of ships and stations, a Junker's thera-magnetic pads provide enough push-off force to move at standard Speed. They drift, pivot, and redirect with a fluid grace that makes bipeds look like they're falling in a controlled direction. Which, technically, they are.
This is not coincidence. Junkers invented grav plating. Millennia ago, before the Great Decline stripped their technology back to survival essentials, Junker engineers developed the artificial gravity systems that every station and ship in the galaxy now uses. They sold the patents to the other races. They are, apparently, still collecting royalties. Nobody has seen an invoice, but nobody has been brave enough to check.
Planetside Problem: Grav-disablers only work against artificial gravity plating. Natural planetary gravity doesn't care about your field generator. Planetside, a Junker without an Anti-Grav Unit is grounded; literally. Their pads can push off solid surfaces but fighting a full gravity well requires power.
The Om solved this problem, and charged considerably for the privilege. Om-designed anti-gravity projectors, the same technology used across the galaxy for cargo containers and hover vehicles, were adapted by Junker engineers into the Anti-Grav Datalink Unit, an integrated component that allows a Junker to float planetside.
| Detail | Value |
|---|---|
| Power consumption | 10 E-Cells per hour |
| Onboard capacity | 100 E-Cells (high-density Junker cells) |
| Ground time | 10 hours on a full charge |
| Recharge | Rapid Recharge property; half standard recharge time (power supply dependent) |
| Size | Orbiting component; another box in the constellation of parts that makes up a Junker, tethered to the central cortex by thera-magnetic datalink like everything else |
A Junker on a 10-hour planetary mission watches their charge level the way other species watch their oxygen. Running out doesn't kill you; it drops you. A Junker who's relying on solar recharge planetside is a Junker who's learning to sit down for the first time. It's undignified. They hate it.
Requires: Any Junker.
Effect: During a Lockdown, you can redistribute your sensory points between your senses (as described in the Junker Sensory Adaptation section above). This takes 1 hour and represents your modular biology physically reconfiguring -- detaching an optical cluster, rerouting signal pathways, growing a new receptor from dormant tissue. The total number of sensory points remains the same; only the allocation changes.
Most Junkers reconfigure once or twice a career. A few do it compulsively. There's a word in Salvage-cant for someone who swaps their eyes out every other cycle -- it translates roughly as "indecisive."
Requires: Any Junker.
Effect: Generations aboard Keth-Vorai have saturated your biology with every industrial pollutant in the periodic table. You gain Resistance to Chemical damage. You gain Boon(1) to Physical saves against poisons and toxins.
This is not immunity. It's tolerance built on centuries of exposure. A Junker can breathe coolant vapour that would blister a Human's lungs and describe the experience as "mild."
Requires: Any Junker.
Effect: You can identify the composition, structural integrity, and approximate value of any manufactured item on sight. Gain Boon(1) to Engineering - Rigging and Intel - Marketeering checks involving salvage, scrap, or manufactured goods.
Other species see a pile of junk. You see a disassembled shield generator, two hull patches, and a reactor coupling that someone bent but didn't crack. The ability to look at wreckage and see inventory is not learned -- it's inherited.
Requires: Any Junker.
Effect: Your hands can generate a weak thera-magnetic field, allowing you to grip ferrous surfaces without tools. You can climb metal surfaces at half Speed without equipment. You gain Advantage against being disarmed of metal weapons.
A side effect of the same thera-magnetic linkages that hold your body together. Most species need mag-boots to walk a hull. You just need hands.
Requires: Any Junker.
Effect: You can improvise functional armour from scrap and debris. During a Stim Break, roll Engineering - Rigging vs the Mission TL to cobble together temporary armour granting DR 1 (Kinetic). The armour lasts until the next Lockdown or until it takes a Glitch Check. It is ugly. It works. Those two facts are the entire Junker design philosophy.
Requires: Magnetic Grip.
Effect: Your thera-magnetic control extends to integrating salvaged components directly into your body. You can slot 1 additional Small item into your body as an integrated component (no inventory slot cost). The item must be metal or contain metal components. Installing a new item takes 10 minutes. Removing it takes the same.
The line between "Junker" and "Junker's equipment" has always been blurry. This feat erases it entirely.
Requires: Any Junker.
Frequency: Once per Lockdown.
Effect: Your hands know where the working parts are. Spend 10 minutes searching wreckage, scrap, debris, or destroyed equipment. Roll Engineering - Rigging vs Mission TL. On success, recover 1 Small item of an appropriate type from the wreckage; a working PSU cell, a sealed med-pack, an undamaged comms unit, a half-charged E-Cell. The GM picks from a list of plausible items based on the wreckage. On a critical success, you found two. The artifact was always there. You just had to know how to look.
Requires: Magnetic Grip.
Effect: Your thera-magnetic field tunes precisely to ferrous metal surfaces. You move at full Speed along any vertical or inverted metal surface; hulls, bulkheads, cargo containers, walker chassis. You cannot fall off while gripping. In zero-G, mag-walking is your primary movement method with no need for handholds. The Junkers invented gravity plating. They were the first species to learn how to ignore it.
Requires: Any Junker.
Effect: Junkers have been hand-building tech from scrap for millennia. You gain a RankedBoon to Engineering - Repair and Engineering - Rigging checks. Additionally, you treat improvised tools as standard tools; no Disadvantage from "makeshift tools" penalties. Your hands compensate for what your kit lacks. "Real engineers ship with what they brought. Junkers ship with what they found."
Requires: Any Junker.
Effect: Your biology runs on electrical current; you absorb it instead of resisting it. You gain Resistance to Electrical damage. Additionally, by spending 1 Action and grasping a powered E-Cell or PSU, you can transfer charge into your own body, restoring 1 Energy point per E-Cell drained. The E-Cell is consumed. The Junkers were the first species to cook food by hand. Then they realised they didn't need to.
Requires: Any Junker.
Effect: Your biological neural net has been running maintenance subroutines for centuries. You don't forget equipment, you catalogue it. You gain a RankedBoon to Intel - Aliens, Artifacts & Objects checks. If you've ever seen a piece of equipment, ship class, security system, or alien artifact in your life, you remember the details, make, model, failure modes, and approximate market value on the nearest three stations. The catch: you also remember every single argument you've ever lost. Junkers don't hold grudges. They archive them.
Requires: Any Junker. Racial; Junkers gain this feat at character creation, free.
Effect: Junker biology is already a hand-built collage of mismatched donor parts. Adding one more graft is a Tuesday. When you install Wetware:
The geneticist looks confused. You hand them a bag of unsorted scrap as payment and float out of the chop-shop. The geneticist files the paperwork under "alarming." They mean it as a compliment.