Echo In the Machine
The beginning of a tale written from prompts while playing ECO MOFOS!!
I thought I’d give my character a job as his first quest, so I rolled on the Job Tables and came up with Gather, Creature (Droid), Loot (Armor).
CHAPTER 1: THE MESSAGE
The e-note came in yesterday, stamped 08:07, July 16, 2236.
They lagged, of course. Everything did. But the Corpos still kept the system breathing somehow… they probably have a load of bunkers somewhere filled with battered brain boxes coughing and humming. As long as the e-notes arrived, it felt like the world wasn’t completely dead yet.
I hadn’t heard from Bob since the last solstice.
Funny Punk, Bob. Loud laugh. Always had a story about something he’d scavenged and tinkered with that probably wasn’t true, and a grin that said he knew it. He was good company in the low times, when the dust storms pinned you down and the nights felt too long.
According to the timestamp, it had been four days since he sent that message. Four days meant anything. He could be waiting. He could be bleeding. He could be gone. But I decided to believe the first one.
I pulled the message back up and let the cracked screen scroll it again:
Hey Brax- ’member dat droid we stashed? I need him. Can u deliver? I know u can. Dat sweet suit is yours if so. Thumbs up if u comin. ROCKON!
The droid. Of course I remembered. The half-buried unit we’d dragged out of a ruined transit tunnel months back. We had wrapped it in a tarp and stashed it in that hidden bunker we stumbled upon. Military frame, old-world joints, busted optics but a good power core. We’d argued whether to scrap it or sell it, but there was something about it. Bob always said it deserved a second chance and I’m an old softy.
And now he wanted it. Assuming it hadn’t already been looted.
It was two days travel, give or take, to New Ashington. Stronghold territory. Corpos crawling all over the place like ants on sugar. Not exactly a scenic stroll to get to Bob. But I did like a good hike every now and again.
I stared at the message for a long moment, said, “what the hell,” and tapped out a reply.
—b
Thumbs up. Short and clean. Afterall, Bob knew I was the type of punk who couldn’t turn down a challenge… especially if I liked you. Of course I’d go.
With the way e-notes lagged, odds were good I’d be knocking on Bob’s door before that little thumbs-up ever reached him. I shut down the screen and pulled out my pack.
Click here for CHAPTER 2 - WESTBOUND
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Nice!
Ooohh, a fun start to an adventure. Nicely done.