We've Just Begun to Dream

Click.

With loose, habitual movements she snatched her well-used cassette tape, snapped it into the rectangular space and closed the lid. A few button presses later the odd, curious little device she had come to know as a "walkman" sprang to life, blasting catchy tunes into her audio receptors. She watched the little gears and springs inside the tiny yet marvelous machine with deep intent, amazed at how something so small could have so much potential.

"Hey Dot!"

The fembot looked up, smiling at her best friend that had just walked into the room. She pulled a wire attaching to one of her auditors to give him her full attention. "Morning, Rusty."

"Mornin'. Ya ready to head out?"

Dorothy nodded eagerly. She stood up, stuck the wire back into her auditor and grabbed Rusty by the hand. He couldn't stop a smile from sneaking onto his face, enjoying every minute of hearing her laugh, her joy. Nothing made him happier than the comfort and well-being of his best friend in the whole wide world—scratch that, his bestest friend in the entire universe. And he knew well that Dorothy thought of him the very same—they wouldn't trade the times they shared with each other for gold.

As Dorothy led Rusty up to the window overlooking their personal asteroid in space, the first song on the cassette faded out. She would take the sweet moment of silence that followed to breath deeply, expanding her bellows to their greatest extent, and let it out, refreshing herself for the day; all while taking in the beautiful scene before her.

The Core was especially bright today, rich orange shafts shining rays around silhouettes of large earth chunks and other space rocks. In the distance the moon glowed an ominous blue, hovering over the core like a predator about to catch its prey. Entrancing twinkles of reds, yellows and whites speckled the deep space, accompanied by ribbon-like nebulae and pied stardust weaving and coursing through the abyss like a spatial river system, leaving no square inch left in the dark.

Dorothy set a hand on her hip, the other on Rusty's hardy shoulder as she leaned on him. "What's the plan for today?" she asked.

She felt him shift slightly in her hold. "Th' gang's looped together a rope long 'nough ta lasso that big asteroid floatin' 'round that Lola's had her eye on. We want'a pull the two together and make one big ol' rock, one big enough to rebuild Lola's saloon on."

It had been a full month since the Earth had exploded into many pieces after the nasty encounter with the one who had become known as the "Mastermind Shiner", Rosie; in which she battled Dorothy to the death in attempts to keep the Shiner colony under her control. Thanks to Dorothy's unbreakable courage she was defeated, but the great fight left its scar on the universe after an enormous distillery the genius Shiner built went haywire and blew up the entire planet. All Steambot-kind were forced to evacuate in rockets, leaving behind both their homes and everything that they had made – everything that they had worked so hard for – in the process.

Dot shivered at the memory. Rosie had used Rusty as a tool in that battle—specifically as a battery to power her enormous mech. He had looked so weak, so lifeless, teetering on the edge of death—he very well could have died from the strain had she been a second late in shutting down the Shiner's machine of war.

"You cold?"

Dorothy looked up, at his blue, knowing eyes. The next song on her cassette began to play, but she paused it, sensing a conversation coming on. "N-no, I'm fine, just thinking of something..."

Ignoring her words Rusty pulled a thick fluffy coat from who-knows-where and helped her slip it on, zipping it up tight for her. Dot's faceplates shifted to form a small smile, touched by his thoughtful gesture. It made her feel all warm and fuzzy inside; that small-town ladybot from El Machino – who went by "Penny" as Dorothy recalled – made it for her, and it did its job well. "Thanks, but—what about you?"

Rusty tapped his abdomen. "Got a heatin' coil inside. I'll be fine."

Vectron technology had changed Rusty immensely, and whether that was for better or worse was still uncertain. On the bright side, he had a bunch of new upgrades and tools on him that made use of the tech. But Dot was worried that the technology might have messed up his Steambot build, if not totally changed it. As far as Dorothy knew nobody had any knowledge of Vectron tech so if something happened to malfunction, Rusty would be in trouble.

"What's wrong?" she heard Rusty ask, his normally gruff voice glossed over with worry. Dot shook her head in denial as if to cast the negative thoughts from her mind.

"I'm fine..." she tried to brush it off.

"No, you're not. You're still shiverin'." Taking her hand from his shoulder Rusty squeezed it tight, his gaze at her unflinching, in hopes to pry the words out of the stubborn 'bot. He wasn't exactly touchy-feely with anyone, and even with Dot, he felt shy when it came to physical affection—though when he felt that she needed it most he didn't hesitate. He sensed that now was one of those times.

Dot sighed, a puff of steam pouring out of her mouth. "I'm worried… How can I not be after I nearly lost you to that dang Shiner?" She looked down to her boots, pigtails drooping to match her trodden expression. "I wouldn't know what to do if something happened to you… Especially if I could have prevented it, you know?"

Rusty immediately though of Fen—that minute blue Vectron sprite Dorothy had befriended before she found him—they had sacrificed themself to get the two Steambots out of the mine before it could cave in on them all. Even on the brink of the Earth's doomsday, Dot still wanted to go back down and rescue Fen—the one who had kept her company on the emotionally draining journey to find her friend. The one who had her back. Dot was stubborn; given the chance, she would have gone down there and gotten herself blown up. Rusty was thankful that the other bots convinced her from doing otherwise because he couldn't bear to lose her again...

"Don't feel bad Dot. I'm the one who should feel guilty."

Dot perked up and looked at him with curious photoreceptors, silently urging him to expand on his point.

"Back in my uncle's mine, I've done some things… made some decisions that I wish I could take back, ya know? I've changed myself—for better or worse, today I don't know, but sometimes I wish it had never happened..." he trailed off, lifting a hand to tug on his red bandanna. "It could've prevented this whole mess from happening—you havin' to come out to look fer me, then the whole coggarn planet explodin'. Would've saved a lot of tears from bein' shed, fer sure," he said, looking knowingly over at Dot as he said that last bit.

Dorothy giggled; she was indeed an emotional wreck both before and after finding Rusty. The prospect that her friend might have been in great trouble, or worse—dead, was a lot more than she could bear. So when she finally found Rusty it was like a huge weight had been lifted off of her shoulders. After the Earth imploded and everyone was safe inside the rocket, the toll of the journey finally took effect and she let it all out—by burying her face into Rusty's chassis, the skittish automaton doing his best to comfort her despite his lack of energy at the time.

Steam rolled out of her neck vents as she cringed. The memory – that fear – was still so fresh in her mind. Dorothy wouldn't know what to do if she had failed to rescue Rusty in time; she would feel so guilty—she already felt so guilty about leaving Fen behind in the explosion. To lose both of her friends—

"Dot?"

She didn't even realize that steam was starting to slip out by her eyes, moisture catching at the edges of her eyelids. She took a sharp breath and dabbed at them. "I'm sorry..."

"Nothing to be sorry about Dot, c'mere… It's not your fault." He brought her into a hug, which she gladly accepted, a few more jets of steam coming from her eyes. There were plenty of times where she felt like utter scrap, but a hug from Rusty could perk her up any day.

Plus, to feel his touch… to know he's here, alive, was assuring, fulfilling. It gave her the hope that Fen might still be out there, alive too.

Dorothy – a bit unwillingly – separated herself from Rusty, smiled her thanks, then gave his shoulder a firm pat. "Enough of that. We shouldn't keep them waiting any longer."

After a nod from Rusty the two robots went to the door, fetching their bags of supplies in the process. Due to the lack of oxygen in space, they had to improvise by building their home with a foyer barred by two airtight doors; to ensure that precious oxygen wouldn't get vacuumed out of the building. They went through the first door, locked it tight, then paused at the second. Rusty gave his friend an apprehensive side glance. "You gonna be okay out there?" he asked, in reference to the fact that she would be working with limited oxygen. Rusty didn't have a furnace anymore, so he didn't need it but Dot certainly did.

"I'll be fine. I got air chambers, an' I got this," she said, pulling out an aluminum tank that wasn't quite enormous, but large enough to hold a couple hours of oxygen and to also be easily carried by a Steambot of her size. "After my reserves run out, I can use this. Worst case scenario I'll have to stop by the greenhouse, but if we hurry up and get this done, we can get back here faster than you can say 'Plutonium'."

Rusty made a noise so quiet that Dot couldn't tell if it was a grunt or a giggle. Either way, she laughed. "Coggarn it, I hated handlin' those rocks. Felt like they were alive or somethin'," he said, shaking his head at the unforgettable memory of him encountering the glowing green ore for the first time. Rusty flinched so hard when he saw it in the dirt that he fell backward on his back, earning a new nick on his chassis for his efforts.

Their giggles melted the tension away, and afterward, Dot looked out the glass window of the door; admiring the way The Core undulated, seas of lava swirling like a whirlpool, sucking in any small rocks that happened to float too close. Retrieving her walkman from her belt, she pressed a button to resume the song she had cut off so early. It was an upbeat song; a female singing about her struggle and her desire to fight it; to get up and win the mental battle of wills. Dorothy always loved music for this reason; songs and lyrics could portray situations, stories, and ideas that she felt as if she could connect to; packed into a beautiful five-minute melody that made her want to shake her hips.

Dot sighed, snapped her worn fingers to the deep, resounding beat, and pushed open the door—all with an expression that radiated with pure determination.

Darkness… They couldn't see anything. It felt foreboding, suffocating, like everything was closing in around them with the aims of choking them to death.

No… not today.

Some unfamiliar instinct deep within them told them to just try. So they did. They didn't know what they were trying or if it would even do something, but anything was better than this infernal darkness—and that's when they felt it. An amazing power, surging through their unseen body, that made them feel… electrifying. That they could break out of this darkness, and free themself.

Then it happened.

Like someone had flipped a switch they became aware of their surroundings; the area around them was filled with bright flashes of red and blue. An unbearable screeching sine along with the realization that they were in someone's claustrophobic grasp sent them into a panic. They squirmed in icy metallic claws, their failure to escape sending utter terror coursing through their body—which, in turn, summoned that strange power they felt not too long ago, the electrifying pulses in sync with their nerve-ridden shuddering. The charges built up and before they could question what was happening they felt the urge to let it all out—yellow light flashing erratically before their eyes, the power siphoned out of their body and through the claws of their captor. When all the charges were spent they drooped, feeling drained, and the claws torturously slipped away. A crash was heard, the sines evolved into sirens, and at that moment they knew they needed to get out of there.

Despite feeling like a drained battery and all the noise causing them sensory overload they fought through their discomfort and darted away, aware that they had no idea where they were going or if this was even a good idea. Then something made them stop.

It was a thick bundle of… thin colored tubes. They appeared flexible, as they curved and wound around tight spaces and ridiculously shaped objects that they couldn't identify. One of the tubes was severed; two little nubs of a mysterious dark material sticking out its exposed innards. Out of the nubs little white bolts would occasionally spurt in random directions—and yet another vague instinct told them that those bolts signified something, that they could use those nubs to their advantage.

Clang. Clang. Clang.

They were coming. They didn't know exactly who they were, but it meant they were about to get trapped in another set of frigid claws they didn't want to take any chances. They bolted towards the tube as fast as their limited energy would allow, feeling diminutive sparks come off of their body in waves.

When they made contact with the nubs, a flamboyance of sensory stimuli and emotions hit them all at once; the inside of the tubes was an entirely different place than the one preceding; there were bright lights of every single hue and shade imaginable shining and pulsing, coming and going this way and that. They were scared out of their wits by the sudden change of environmental mood, but at the same time, it made them feel good, happy, adventurous, alive. It was all so terrifying and new but also so great and energizing and promising—this very well may be their evacuation route, their highway to heaven.

With a new hope blossoming within them, they followed the expressway of lights, moving faster than the speed of sound.

With an ample bundle of thick rope in her supple yet sturdy arms and a finicky copper-colored automaton's limbs wrapped around her neck and forehead, Dorothy revved her jet engines up, the afterburners roaring in their auditors. The jetpack vibrated much like the tremors she experienced on Earth not too long ago, and finally, flames and exhaust burst out of the pipes, propelling the two steambots forward violently. Rusty grunted a bit, not expecting the jets to make them lurch forward like that, winding his limbs tighter around his friend and laying his chin on the red of her "hair," fingers clutching his worn cowboy hat with care.

"SORRY FOR THE NOISE!"

"WHAT?"

"I SAID SORRY FOR THE NOISE!"

"I CAN'T HEAR YOU—"

"SORRY FOR THE—nevermind..."

Dot barely heard Rusty try to yell something else over the din of the jetpack's thundering rumbles, but didn't bother to answer knowing he wouldn't be able to hear.

As she neared the asteroid Dorothy cut the power to her jetpack so that she would not be crashing into the giant rock at deathly speeds. She felt Rusty fidget a little, then felt his feet connect with her shoulders.

"Don't go down yet; it needs time to cool down."

"I'll be fine." Rusty ignored her advice and shimmied down further—a decision he would regret a second later when the edge of his foot lightly tapped the iron-hot tubes of her jetpack.

Dorothy burst into laughter hearing him scream out in pain; the quiet fellow he was, she never heard him scream before but she had to admit it was really funny. "I told you to wait!" she made out between giggles.

Rusty was not amused, clambering all willy-nilly in a mess of steel limbs back atop his perch on her head, crossing his arms and legs across her head and neck and mumbling something under his breath. Out of the corner of her optics, Dorothy saw that a tiny notch had formed at the corner of his foot, burnt coal-black. She frowned; Rusty hated going to the mechanic's but he would have to get that looked at sooner or later.

She was feet away from the giant space rock now; so she stretched out her limbs beyond her, readying them in a position so that she could catch herself properly. Finally, Dot connected with the side of the boulder, clamps curling into cracks and crevices in the rock's surface. As her boots sunk into softer, gritty parts of the asteroid Rusty climbed on top of her, using her head like a step stool – Dot complying without so much a protest – to reach the top part of the rock. Thanks to the zero-gravity condition of space he clambered to the top with ease, like a spider climbing across its web.

"It's perfectly flat, and there's grass growing here," Rusty commented, running his fingers through the fuzzy lawn.

"Lola's gonna love it!" Dot exclaimed. It felt nice to do something nice for Lola after all the nice things she had done for everyone. The big barbot practically glowed with zest and cheerfulness, all while maintaining a maternal care for everyone that kept the little handful of 'bots from going insane. It was about time someone paid all that kindness back.

Appearing over the edge of the rock, Rusty hoisted himself down and climbed to about Dot's level. He held out his hand expectantly and without any exchange of words needing to take place, Dorothy knew to hand him the rope. She dug her feet deeper into the soft soil, then let go of the rock with her clamps to free them so she could feed the rope to Rusty should he need more.

Rusty tied the rope around his waist with a double knot, then looked to Dot nervously, seeking some form of confirmation. She gave a thumbs up, he nodded, and then he was climbing again, supporting himself with uneven holes in the rock as he scaled the diameter of it. Meanwhile, Dorothy kept a light grip on the rope that would allow it to run between her clamps without difficulty but also would keep it from floating off too far.

Bounding, leaping across the cratered surface, Rusty went; limited not by gravity nor anything else; as space allowed him to move freely, smoothly. He hadn't felt this carefree since he was a child…

After a minute or so Rusty materialized from around the corner, the rope a bit slack as it followed. Once he fully traversed the circumference of the rock and made it back to Dorothy he pushed off gingerly, catching Dot's welcoming hand and giving her a high-five in the process. Praise was felt in the action alone between them, so no time was wasted with words as they untied the rope from his waist. Working quickly the two Steambots pulled the rope taut around the rock, leaving a sufficient amount of rope to tie more knots once it was all said and done. Tugging the knots, Dot tested their strength, and satisfied when they showed no signs of wear, instructed Rusty to wait atop the rock. Needless to say, the 'bot wasn't happy.

"Why can't I help you with this part?" Rusty whined.

Dot's optics formed little slits, faceplates shifting to form a silly grin. "Who's the one with the jetpack?"

Rusty opened his mouth to say something, but stopped, unsure how to answer to that. Laughter was heard from Dorothy—most likely her laughing at his stupefaction, but little did he know that her giggling was actually caused by the sight of his mouth half-opened and his arm hanging in the air, ready to help make a point, but unable to due to his loss for words, instead leaving his fingers dangling uselessly.

"What are you gonna do? Just float around, tugging the rope helplessly? Sorry to admit it but you'll get nowhere," she continued with an ever growing round of sniggers.

A smirk crept its way onto his face, and before he knew it he was joining in on her laughter. Arms raised he admitted defeat and scrambled back on top of the asteroid, gripping the rim of his hat. Dorothy busied herself in the meantime by tying the rope around her wrist. Normally she would have set it around her body instead, but she didn't want to risk the afterburners of her jetpack setting the rope on fire. She waggled her arm back and forth to test the knot, and then started the jet engines.

"Hey Dot?"

The fembot turned her head to see Rusty's eyes peering over the ledge, his blue eyes glowing like a pair of Vectron sprites. "I thought of a way I could help," he said.

"Really? What's that?" Dot asked, not sure if he was joking or not.

Rusty's clamps rapped against the dirt. "I'm serious. I just remembered, I could use my Static Dash!"

Dorothy frowned. A feature of Vectron technology, Rusty's Static Dash was an extertion of electricity from his body, propelling him forward and allowing him to reach places he couldn't get to otherwise. He could use it to push himself around in zero-gravity conditions, for sure, but…

"Erm… Rusty, remember last time you used it? You rammed into me by accident, and..."

Rusty drooped. "Ooh, yeah… You couldn't move for a week..."

"Can't have that happening again, I'm afraid." Dot looked at him, noticing the frown that had dominated his features. The poor 'bot so desperately wanted to help, yet couldn't—everything seemed to be an obstacle in his path. All he could do at this point was sit there, feeling useless. Offering a sympathetic smile, Dot said, "Hey, I'll find you something to do… back at the colony, I promise."

That seemed to satisfy Rusty, as he just nodded and vanished behind the ledge, presumably waiting for her to shove off.

Dorothy pulled out her trusty walkman again, plugged it into her auditors, and skipped to a particular song that she was in the mood for. A song about the future; prospects, ideas, dreams. And as she looked over the vast space, asteroids and stars peppering her vision, she dreamed of what the future might hold, realizing… this was just the beginning. Years from now, beyond her time—civilization will advance in science and technology so much that even connecting space rocks would become a breeze. Transportation, architecture, and robotology would, too, evolve, introducing inventions and marvels that she herself couldn't begin to imagine.

Funny, how her song fit. We've just begun to dream, it sang.

As it reached the second verse, she started up her rockets, and the behemoth behind her slowly began to inch forward.

A/N: Hi! This fanfic is based off of Swedish developer Image & Form's SteamWorld Series, which you should totally check out! (Or, if you're reading this fic, there's a chance you probably have. :P) SteamWorld Dig and its sequel are inspired by metroidvanias, while SteamWorld Heist is like a 2D XCOM: a turn-based shooter.

This fic will explore what potentially happened between Dig 2 and Heist. Not sure how long the fic will be, but what I do know is that it'll be a fun-filled adventure, featuring lotsa fluff and feels. Buckle up, it's gonna be a wild ride!