The trek to the crash site felt longer than it actually was. The unsettling emptiness of the city seemed to amplify every noise, and I found myself checking over my shoulder more times than I'd like to admit.

As I got closer to the site, the wreckage came into view. The dropship was a mangled wreck, half-buried in the rubble of a collapsed building. Twisted metal and debris were strewn across the ground, while smoke still rose from the smoldering wreckage. It looked like someone had taken a can opener to the ship's hull, peeling it back like the lid of a sardine can.

The remains of the SCAVs that had been aboard were scattered across the site, their mechanical limbs and shattered bodies intermingled with the wreckage.

I walked up to the wreckage, my boots crunching on the debris that littered the ground, and my Interface pointed me towards two SCAVs that bore a striking resemblance to the one I was trying to fix. They were a little banged up, but my Interface highlighted the major components that I needed: a replacement leg, a capsule of coolant liquid, high-density capacitors, and a micro-fusion reactor.

I made my way over to the first SCAV, stepping gingerly through the debris as I went. The machine had been toppled over, its metal chassis bent and twisted. I crouched down beside it, running my fingers over the damaged surface, before locating the leg I needed. With a grunt, I began to pry it loose, the metal groaning in protest as I worked.

I'd never done much mechanical work back on Earth, but thanks to the Basic Mechanics skill I got from the motorcycle quest, I found that I was strangely enjoying the process. There was something satisfying about dismantling something while trying to figure out how it works. It took some elbow grease to pry the replacement leg off of one of the SCAVs, but after a bit of wrestling, I managed to free it from its attachments.

With the leg finally free, I moved on to the second SCAV. This one had fared a little better, its body relatively intact. Detailed schematics of its inner workings popped into view, highlighting the specific parts I needed to salvage. I climbed onto its back, searching for the capsule of coolant liquid. I found it nestled between the machine's armored plates, the container a little cracked. I unholstered my multitool and got to work, carefully prying open the outer shell to reveal the mass of circuits and machinery within. Carefully, I pried it loose, making a mental note to patch up the damage later.

As I worked, I couldn't help but glance around the industrial district. With each creak of metal and whir of my multitool, I half-expected a Riftspawn to leap out from the shadows. The last thing I needed was being ambushed while I was elbow-deep in SCAV guts.

Next on my list were the high-density capacitors which were a little trickier to locate. These were tucked away inside the SCAV's torso, hidden behind a protective panel, and embedded in the heart of the SCAV's circuitry. It took me a while to dig them out without causing any further damage. My hands were soon covered in a mixture of coolant liquid and dirt, but it felt good to be doing something practical.

I safely stowed away the capacitors in my backpack and then turned my attention to the micro-fusion reactor. This was the last major component I needed, and I knew it would be the most challenging to extract. The reactor was buried deep within the SCAV's chest cavity, nestled among a tangle of wires and machinery. I took a deep breath and began the delicate process of dismantling the necessary parts. With the micro-fusion reactor finally free, I turned my attention to the destroyed dropship. There were still several minor components I needed there.

The dropship's interior was dark and cramped, the walls warped and jagged from the explosion that had brought it down. I crawled through the narrow passageways, my Interface guiding me towards the parts I sought. As I moved deeper into the ship, the air grew colder, and I shivered, wrapping my arms around myself for warmth.

Finally, I reached the ship's supply room, the door hanging off its hinges, its contents scattered across the floor. I knelt down and began to sift through the debris, my fingers numb and clumsy as I searched for the remaining components. I found a compact power relay, its casing cracked but its internals still intact. A small box of optic fibers was half-buried beneath a twisted beam, and I carefully unearthed it, stowing it away in my pack. My Interface chimed in a message indicating that all the components salvageable from the site were found.

With my backpack loaded up I made my way back out of the dropship.

The heaviest thing to haul was the replacement leg—it was practically as big as me and probably weight half a ton or more. No way was I gonna carry or drag that thing all the way to the SCAV. A push-cart would have been good right about now.

After spending a little bit of time thinking, I decided to head to where I left my motorcycle and walk it over to the site so I could cart the leg to the downed SCAV in need of repair.

Now came the hard part: putting it all back together.

----------------------------------------

I set my backpack down next to the SCAV and began unpacking the parts I had collected. The replacement leg, the capsule of coolant liquid, the high-density capacitors, and the micro fusion reactor lay before me, each piece a vital part of the puzzle I was about to assemble.

Taking a deep breath, I rolled up my sleeves and got to work, starting with the replacement leg. Using my multi-tool, I carefully removed the jagged remains of the old leg, my fingers growing slick with the oily residue that coated its inner workings.

I worked methodically, unscrewing and unbolting each connection, taking care not to damage any of the internal components. Once the damaged leg was detached, I carefully aligned the replacement leg with the SCAV's chassis and began fastening it in place, my fingers working deftly with the various tools the Interface recommended.

With the leg securely attached, I moved on to replacing the damaged coolant system. I unhooked the ruptured hoses and removed the shattered reservoir, the acrid smell of burnt coolant filling the air as I did so. I carefully threaded the new hoses into place and attached them to the fresh coolant capsule, making sure each connection was tight and secure.

With the coolant in place, I moved on to the high-density capacitors. I carefully pried open a panel on the SCAV's back, revealing a tangle of circuitry and wires. My Interface highlighted the damaged capacitors, and I removed them with a pair of pliers, carefully replacing them with the new components.

Next up was the power supply. It was time to install the micro-fusion reactor. I eased the component into place, my hands shaking slightly as I connected it to the SCAV's power system. One wrong move and it could all blow up in my face.

The process was slow and painstaking, and I couldn't help but feel a growing sense of anxiety as the hours ticked by. I knew that I was vulnerable out here in the open, and the thought of another Riftspawn attack was never far from my mind. I had to keep reminding myself to stay vigilant, constantly pausing in my work to scan the surrounding area for signs of danger.

With the reactor in place, I closed up the SCAV's chest cavity, the metal plates clicking into place with a satisfying snap.

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Next was the repair process that seemed even more daunting—rewiring the SCAV's central control system. My Interface provided me with a detailed schematic, guiding me through the intricate process of reconnecting the various circuits and components. I followed the instructions with painstaking precision, my hands steady despite the fatigue and tension that weighed on me.

As I connected the final wire, I couldn't help but feel a surge of pride. Although I was really only following detailed instructions, to not fuck up and cause the quest to fail was a monumental accomplishment in my book.

Finally, it was time to patch up the SCAV's chassis. I carefully removed the twisted, jagged pieces of metal, wincing as the sharp edges cut into my hands. I replaced them with new plates, securing them in place with an assortment of bolts and clamps. It was another painstakingly slow process, and I couldn't help but feel a pang of frustration as I struggled to align the plates just right.

With the repairs complete, I stepped back to admire my handiwork. The SCAV looked much better than before and its repaired chassis reflected the muted glow of the overhead lamps. It still bore the scars of its battle, but it was whole again, and I couldn't help but feel a sense of accomplishment at having brought it back from the brink.

I glanced over at the quest details to see what to do next:

Install a new AI core

What? I don’t remember finding something like that at the wreckage. Was the quest bugged somehow?

My Interface guided me as I opened a compartment inside the cephalothorax section of the spider bot that housed its A.I. core and removed it.

I examined the damaged core, its spherical form marred by cracks and scorch marks. It was beyond repair. I racked my brain, trying to remember if I'd seen anything that could serve as a suitable substitute.

Then it hit me. I'd found something way back that looked strikingly similar to the core. It had been tucked away in the bottom of my backpack, a small spherical piece of circuitry that, at the time, I hadn't been able to identify.

I fished it out and inspected it more closely, then compared the two cores side by side. They appeared almost identical in size and design. My Interface chimed with updated information about the object:

Intact ExoCore: FII-256B A Scyvah ExoCore Type 4 constructed from Memory Alloy. It is currently unattuned.

That's a lot of jargon. Wish there was a wiki somewhere for it. Details aside, all I needed to know was that it was the final piece I needed to bring the SCAV back to life.

I carefully inserted the new AI core into the SCAV's housing unit, connecting the wires and making sure everything was properly aligned. With each step, I felt a growing sense of anticipation, my heart racing as I imagined the hulking machine springing to life.

Once the new core was securely in place, I stepped back and waited, my fingers crossed as I watched for any sign of movement. At first, there was nothing, just the faint hum of the SCAV's internal systems as they adjusted to the new component.

Then, with a soft whir, the SCAV's internal machinery began to hum. Its dome-like central camera flickered to life, the lens focusing and refocusing as it took in its surroundings. The SCAV twitched and jerked, its movements at first erratic and uncoordinated.

Slowly, however, it began to find its footing. Its six legs flexed and stretched, testing their strength and flexibility. The SCAV's movements grew more fluid, more confident, as it acclimated to its new core and repaired systems.

The SCAV's central camera swiveled toward me, its lens focusing on my face. There was a moment of silence, and then the machine spoke, its voice a synthesized blend of tones and frequencies.

"Primary systems online. Core integration complete. Designation: FII-256B. Awaiting orders."

My Interface chimed the quest update:

Dynamic Quest "Repair and Recover" Complete You acquired the Advanced Mechanics skill at Intermediate Rank. You gained 1000 Experience Points. You acquired FII-256B as a companion. Two attunement slots must be allocated to the bond. Your attunement to Static Baton has been removed. Your attunement to Wasteland Hunter has been removed. Two attunement slots have been dedicated to bonding with FII-256B.

I felt a rush of information flood my mind as I acquired the new skill. But the thing I wasn't expecting was the cost of acquiring the SCAV. I thought attunement slots were only meant for gear, but if it was also used for non-Player companions, then what other things could I attune with? I didn't dwell on that too long, though—there would be plenty of time to ponder later.

"Uh, hi there," I said, feeling oddly self-conscious. "I'm Connor. Guess we're gonna be partners from now on."

The SCAV paused for a moment before answering. "Affirmative. Designating Connor as the administrator of this unit. Awaiting orders."

"Well," I paused for a second before continuing. "First off, could you tell me what happened to you?"

"System log indicates direct damage to primary cooling system from Riftspawn attack. In addition, secondary power distribution and micro-fusion reactor suffered critical failure due to excessive heat. Lower left leg destroyed. Moderate damage to chassis. Log update indicates remaining damage has been repaired and systems reintegrated using available spare parts. No further damage to critical systems detected."

"So… basically, you're all fixed up and good to go?" I asked tentatively.

"Affirmative," responded the SCAV. "Only minor damage to the chassis remains."

"That's good," I said with relief. "Do you still have full mobility?"

The SCAV answered, its words flowing in a measured cadence. "All primary systems nominal. All secondary systems nominal. All tertiary systems nominal. System function analysis indicates normal performance levels across all functions."

"Great," I simply said. "That's awesome."

Doing everything on my own and having no one but myself to talk to was starting to take its toll. Sure, it hasn't been that long since Aubrey left but goddamn...not having someone or even something to confide with really sucked. Pair that with having to live in a world that seemed specifically designed to make people miserable and I started getting a little stir-crazy. Not exactly a recipe for a healthy lifestyle.

I pushed off the depressing thoughts and approached the SCAV to pat its chassis. "Alright buddy, you're probably primed to start scavenging but it's been a long day for me so just follow me back to my safe house and we'll rest up. Tomorrow is probably gonna be a busy day for us."

"Acknowledged," replied the SCAV. "Proceeding back to base."

My Interface chimed and a small status window appeared on my peripheral showing FII-256B's status. It then pinged the location of my hideout and highlighted what I assumed was the shortest path to get there. I wondered if the System also relayed that information to it.

The SCAV turned around and began trundling slowly back down the street toward my hideout. Well, got my answer. I followed along behind the massive machine, watching as its legs moved gracefully beneath its frame.

As we walked, I wondered what I should call my new companion. Just calling it a SCAV or FII-256B or even 'Hey you' didn't feel right. After some deliberation, I settled on something simple and straightforward: Fii. It rolled off the tongue nicely without being pretentious or overly formal.

"Hey, um, do you mind if I started calling you Fii?" I asked as we walked.

It swiveled its dome-like camera to look at me and tilted slightly downward, as if giving a nod. "Affirmative. Designation change approved."

"Cool," I said with a smile. "Looking forward to working with you, Fii."