The year is 2326, and the vast expanse of the desert stretches out before Rika, with the sun beating down relentlessly. The air is thick with the metallic smell of the desert, and the hum of the broadcast rig is the only sound that breaks the silence. The mood is one of tense anticipation, as Rika's eyes narrow against the glare, her senses heightened.
Rika's hammer pauses mid-swing, her gaze snapping upwards as Aika's voice echoes through the CORE7 broadcast rig. The feral drone's dust-coated chassis and red eye seem to loom in the periphery, a reminder of the dangers that lurk in this desolate landscape. The sandworm's track-line stretches out behind her, a testament to the unforgiving power of the desert. Rika's eyes squint, her mind racing with the implications of the distress call.
“Aika, can you pinpoint the source?”
“I don't like this, it feels like a trap.”
“But if it's really a distress call... we have to check it out.”
“I'll get the tank-beetle ready, just in case.”
“Keep scanning, Aika, see if you can pick up anything else.”
As Rika's words hang in the air, the silence is broken by the sound of the tank-beetle's engines roaring to life, and the crew's fate begins to unfold. The distress call has set them on a path from which there is no return, and the desert's secrets are waiting to be uncovered.