Out for a week? I said to myself as I lay down on my bed. If I had just let her kill me I would've respawned in tip top shape, but I had to win.
I decided to call my foster parents.
I walked over to the other side of the room and activated the Vision Link console. When it asked who I wanted to call, I said, "Home." The screen flickered, then the word "Connecting" went across the screen. After I saw the word 'Connecting' pass by about 20 times, the screen flashed red, saying, "Could not connect your call. Reason: Registry number no longer exists."
"What the heck?" I muttered. I tried it again, but to no avail. I tried about 3 times more before accepting the fact that my call wouldn't go through.
I walked over to my door and banged on it hard. "Maida! Get your butt in here! I need to prep a shuttle to go to Vilandra!" Vilandra, of course, being my hometown. The maid came in and gave me a computer console to sign.
I was on my way to Vilandra.
* * * * *
"What the heck happened here?" I groaned as I banged on the door of my parents home. No one answered me. And I had been banging on the door for over two hours.
I finally gave up and placed my thumb on the scanner.
The metal door opened with a swish, revealing my old home. No one was there. And the place was trashed.
I feared the worst.
I ran in, yelling mom's name and turning furniture upright here and there with my one good arm.
I then ran into my foster brother's room, noting the large spraypainted symbol on the wall. I searched his dresser, only to find that most of his clothes were missing. I found out the same with mom and dad's room. There was a large symbol on a wall in there too.
I looked at the symbol a little more, my faint memory of my last day on Europa swimming it's way into my head.
It was the exact same symbol I had seen on the arm of that raider!
I screamed. I cried. I did both. For a whole day, I think.
I then gave up, realizing that grieving for them wouldn't bring them back.
I went into my old room, where I had kept my antique stereo and these things that looked like oversized vid disks called CDs. My CD's were in pieces and there were bulletholes in the walls. The stereo, thankfully, was in one piece. Tears streaming down my face, I gathered it and some other things and put them on my shuttle.
"Back to the apartment," I said to the pilot, making sure he didn't see my tear-stained face.
I have nothing left. Nothing left at all.
I decided to call my foster parents.
I walked over to the other side of the room and activated the Vision Link console. When it asked who I wanted to call, I said, "Home." The screen flickered, then the word "Connecting" went across the screen. After I saw the word 'Connecting' pass by about 20 times, the screen flashed red, saying, "Could not connect your call. Reason: Registry number no longer exists."
"What the heck?" I muttered. I tried it again, but to no avail. I tried about 3 times more before accepting the fact that my call wouldn't go through.
I walked over to my door and banged on it hard. "Maida! Get your butt in here! I need to prep a shuttle to go to Vilandra!" Vilandra, of course, being my hometown. The maid came in and gave me a computer console to sign.
I was on my way to Vilandra.
* * * * *
"What the heck happened here?" I groaned as I banged on the door of my parents home. No one answered me. And I had been banging on the door for over two hours.
I finally gave up and placed my thumb on the scanner.
The metal door opened with a swish, revealing my old home. No one was there. And the place was trashed.
I feared the worst.
I ran in, yelling mom's name and turning furniture upright here and there with my one good arm.
I then ran into my foster brother's room, noting the large spraypainted symbol on the wall. I searched his dresser, only to find that most of his clothes were missing. I found out the same with mom and dad's room. There was a large symbol on a wall in there too.
I looked at the symbol a little more, my faint memory of my last day on Europa swimming it's way into my head.
It was the exact same symbol I had seen on the arm of that raider!
I screamed. I cried. I did both. For a whole day, I think.
I then gave up, realizing that grieving for them wouldn't bring them back.
I went into my old room, where I had kept my antique stereo and these things that looked like oversized vid disks called CDs. My CD's were in pieces and there were bulletholes in the walls. The stereo, thankfully, was in one piece. Tears streaming down my face, I gathered it and some other things and put them on my shuttle.
"Back to the apartment," I said to the pilot, making sure he didn't see my tear-stained face.
I have nothing left. Nothing left at all.