"Home" wasn't the right word for it.
As he sped into the derelict city, he drove by scrappy houses and stores that seemed one good gust of wind away from falling to pieces. Parking beside a towering superscraper and unloading his cargo, he pulled along the five busted-up Vox, struggling thanks to the chunk of thigh missing from his right leg.
Jarvis pulled past crowds of people and friendly Vox, thanks to the rebellion among Vox kind that happened over a decade ago; now millions of Vox lived among humanity, though not everyone welcomed them. Storefronts and food stands made from rusting steel and chipped wood filled the cobbled courtyards between the decrepit superscrapers that loomed far above, providing shade and respite from the scorching suns.
Just ahead stood the largest building among the shops, with a massive scrapyard behind it and a sign reading "The Graveyard". A large four-armed Vox stood behind a counter in front of the structure, bartering aggressively with a young man in raggedy clothing and scrappy armor.
The large Vox slammed his fist into the metal counter, his eye narrowed in annoyance. "I've told you countless times, fleshbag! I ain't buying Vox parts in this condition!" With all four arms he gestured to a robotic limb that was barely recognizable, bent and shredded in all kinds of ways. "Ya should've thought about that before brutalizing the poor bastard, yeah? Get outta here!" Kicking the counter in frustration, the scrapper shoved the arm back into his satchel before leaving.
Jarvis scoffed as the man departed, shaking his head in amusement. "Another frustrating day, Bento?" The Vox let out a rough, grating laugh, visibly lighting up at Jarvis' presence. "You ain't know the half of it, kid. How's my favorite walkin' slab of meat, anyway?" He peered over the counter, scratching his metal chin with one hand. "You've got quite the haul."
Jarvis shrugged, grunting as he hoisted the bag of enemy Vox limbs and parts onto the counter. "Found a patrol out in the middle of the wastes. Not sure what they were doing, but I'm not complaining." Bento quickly searched the bag, admiring the intact limbs and torsos. "Ah, a sight for a sore eye, pal... and they've got all their juice in 'em still. I swear, you're the only one who bothers keeping the oil inside! But no heads as usual, eh? Bloody efficient, you are. Should I be scared of you?"
Jarvis laughed this time, leaning against the counter. "Probably not, you old bucket of bolts. I don't think I'd get more than a few bucks for you anyway." Bento effortlessly slung the bag over his shoulder, bringing it into his scrapyard as Jarvis followed close. "Give me some credit, would you?" Bento retorted. "Not often you see a four-armed Vox. That honor's usually reserved for the Minds."
"Speaking of the Minds... you hear what happened?" Jarvis asked as he sat beside a pile of rusting steel, watching Bento sort the Vox bodies. Bento's eye narrowed once more, and slowly nodded. "Who hasn't? A Mind seen on the surface, and killing a dozen Steel Banner guards no less. It's enough to shake up even the sturdiest of folk. Makes you wonder." Jarvis perked up, curious as to what he meant. "Makes you wonder... what?"
"About HyprenaVox returnin'," Bento said flatly. "The Minds have rarely ever been this bold, and with that bastard Mind patrolling so freely? Something must be up. With all those rumors circulating... who knows."
He sat in silence, thinking over this. He didn't know much about the old Vox leadership... but that name worried him nonetheless. HyprenaVox, the creator of all Vox and leader of the invasion of Earth twenty five years ago; his banishment was what caused that war to end in the first place, and create the accident that brought millions of people to Vexra. "Return? How? The stories said he was straight up sent to another universe or something... some kind of pocket universe, right?"
Bento nodded, and sat beside Jarvis with a clang as his back hit the scrap pile. "Yup. But who knows? If it's all true, we're all done for. I saw him firsthand... he ain't a pushover, and he makes the twelve minds look like harmless puppies." Jarvis smirked, tapping the four-armed Vox's shoulder. "Well, if he does, you could buddy up with him right? Not like you've got anything serious to lose."
He made a scoff sound through his voicebox, his eye glancing down at Jarvis. "...I've got you to lose, kid. Unless you think HyprenaVox is gonna spare you?" Jarvis' smile turned into a genuine one, nudging Bento. "Look at you, you big softy. Who knew you were all marshmallow underneath all that scrap metal?"
Bento grumbled and stood up, brushing himself off. "You're lucky I practically raised you, or I wouldn't let you get away with that. We've wasted enough time; let's get back to business." Jarvis followed Bento back to the front counter, waiting in front of it with a bored expression. "Hurry up then, old machine... pay up!" Bento slammed down a cloth sack filled with bills. "Well, eight hundred is best I can do, you impatient bastard." Jarvis grinned, quickly snatching the money and tucking it in one of his many pockets. "Pleasure doing business with you, good sir." Bento groaned, waving him off. "Just get going before I punt you off planet... I've got customers to take care of."
Jarvis acted offended as he walked off, but deep down he was touched. In all the years he'd known him, Bento rarely ever spoke positively of anyone he knew, so the compliments and sweet comments he rarely gave had plenty of weight to them. If there was anything or anyone that really meant something to Jarvis, it was Bento.
So, with a final wave, Jarvis made his way back to his sand speeder, jumping in and lounging in the front seats as he securely locked away the cash in a small safe. A flash of pain reminded him that he was missing a decent chunk of flesh from his leg, and he swiftly took one of the few medkits he had left, wrapping up the wound after applying a generous blob of healing ointment to the dark burn scar. The burst of relief eased his exhausted mind as he lay back, slowly drifting away into sleep.