Monday, October 28, 2013

Day Five-Sixty-One: Crash, bang, boom

Well, shit. We're stuck.

When Plato went on his driving spree last week, he managed to bring the whole of the checkpoint's guns on us. Not just the checkpoint's normal contingent, nor the bundle of extra cannons carried about by the roaming patrols, but both. Hell, Grylock tells me that they'd brought in another squad with guns after the fact, on the chance that the Dauphine might roll back to the border. Guess it was a good call on their part, eh?

The result is a vehicle that's limping badly. THREE of the Dauphine's wheels are on the outs, and will need to be completely replaced. Engineering has been trashed; it's amazing the Dauphine got this far. The control systems need to be overhauled, several of the cabins are completely destroyed, the mast is busted, one of the bathrooms is now open to the world… can't even take a pee in private anymore, it seems. 

This is to say nothing of Command, which, apparently, the Imperium soldiers were aiming at. The amount of pruning we need to do to poor Queen Daena's tree? My lords. Plato may have usurped Jeffrey as public enemy number one.

Everyone's hard at work. The canyon we've parked in is nice and spacious, and long enough that we think we can hide here for at least the week, maybe two. Celine and her ninjas are going to keep an eye out for any danger on the horizon. Hopefully they spot none. Grylock will be, too, though Libby has him on the lookout for deposits of metal in the rock - we could really use some spare ore to shape into support beams.

And me? I'm, ah, wondering what the hell we're doing out here. Seriously.

It was a dumb idea, conjured in the heat of the moment. Roll out of a well-fortified town and head to foreign territory to talk to… who? A hermit in a desert? The hell was I thinking? Plato's actions don't make this any better, either, as his desperation to get to Iko has me reeeeeal suspicious. I believed him before, but… now… 

Trust. Trust has to be earned. He had mine for a little while. It's disappearing quickly at this point. Especially considering I wet myself while we were going through the checkpoint. How long has it been since I last did that? My new clothes smelled so good for a while there, dammit!

I've thought of just about every tool we have on hand as a weapon by now, so I'm pretty much useless as a mechanic. I've been helping Grylock to comb the canyon for sources of metal. Not that great at it, I bet, but… better than nothing…

Fuck. Stuck in one spot on foreign soil. Things couldn't get any better than this, could they?

Oh the sarcasm,

Dragomir the Wanderer

No comments:

Post a Comment