Fortnite: Project Mecha

Chapter 5: Pilot, But Not

"Alright! Who ordered the small taco meals?" Guaco, the luminous green and sunlight yellow clad taco man came over holding three taco meals.
"Me and her." Drift accepted his meal politely and the Imagined nodded thanks.
"That means that the large meal is for you!" Guaco slid over a taco twice the size of Drift's to Mothy, who removed his helmet and licked his lips.
His messy dark drown hair flopped around as he grinned shamelessly and said, "Yes please!"
"Ok! Here you go, thanks for your patronage." Guaco slid the last meal down alongside three colas and gave a last sidelong glance at the group before he disappeared back into his kitchen.
Drift took a bite out of his meaty taco before asking, "So, why did we start here of all places?"
Guaco Tacos was packed, filled to the brim with people waiting for a snack or eating their seventeenth taco of the day. The floor was paved with even white tiles with stains on them in some places. The tables were rounded and the windows let in lots of oxygen, so when you took a breath it was always as fresh as the meals that were served. Drift couldn't remember the last time he'd been to a Guaco Tacos but he loved it indefinitely and would eat there every day.
"We're here to plan." the Imagined bit into her taco sparingly, trying to make it last.
"Huh?" Mothy asked, before beginning to gnaw away at the taco. Drift would've gotten a large too if he wasn't concerned about his ability to run away from other loopers afterwards.
"The Origin may act like he knows what he's doing, but he'll be doing something similar to us. Don't even worry about that." the Imagined grinned, nibbling at her taco once again, "And they do call me the Imagined for a reason. Drift, you know when the Devourer and the mech fought and you got to see the mech in action for the first time?"
"Yeah?" Drift assured her, nodding and chewing at a bit of meat.
"I may or may not have taken a little inspiration from a few of the loopers' designs." the Imagined pointed at him enthusiastically, "The Drift arm was my idea."
"I did think that it was weird that Singularity or the Paradigm or whatever I should be calling her knew about me. But now I know that you guys know a lot." Drift chuckled, interested but not truly suprised.
"Yeah!" the Imagined set down the remaining half of her taco, "So, any ideas? To get our mech put through."
Drift had actually had a whole number of ideas on the way to Greasy Grove, and they bounced around his head like a TV screensaver but he didn't feel that any of them were good. Maybe apart from a few, anyway. They could always do both mechs. It would take more time though, so less of the Origin's mechs would be made as he has planned, and then there was still the issue of the fourth pilot. So, he also had the idea of hosting a car race and whoever reached the finish line without going off the road too many times would be their pilot. Accuracy and speed was key.
And then there was the third idea that may be bad or good. Drift could put forward a balanced argument about both mechs to the Scientist, who would evaluate them fairly and honestly and then choose just one. That way, the Origin couldn't blame the Scientist for his problems. Worst case scenario, it'd be Drift instead.
"We could create an essay or get the Scientist to make an essay on why each mech is good and bad." Drift explained briefly.
"That's not a terrible idea, but it'd take too long. I don't have time to spend on that. We don't have time to spend on that." the Imagined gestured towards the table as a whole, "And I know that you'd be doing that to save the Scientist's skin. I understand; you're his soldiers."
"So we might just have to do the bet, no biggie." Mothy chomped down at the last of his taco and then concealed his face beneath the moth mask once more. Drift looked down at his half a smaller taco and then back at Mothy.
"Actually, it might be a biggie. He's a lot more persuasive than I am, as you could see in that performance between me and the Scientist." the Imagined shrugged, resting her chin on her hand, "The Paradigm was convincing. We could use her right now."
"How did you two meet? If you don't mind me asking." Drift inquired, then began to eat his taco more quickly.
"It's fine. Yeah, I'll tell you." the Imagined agreed, "I might've been sixteen at the time. I'd just dropped out of school because let me tell ya, I was god awful. But I still needed money, of course. My older sister the Order didn't let me into her office job, and I was in poverty. Then one day, I saw an advertisement for work building a rocket which I thought was weird but I needed the money, so I went there. It was only supposed to be a part time job. But I quickly became friendly with the Scientist, the Foundation, the Paradigm and the Visitor, who you haven't met yet but he's great. Me and the Paradigm were particularly close, and she was the one who persuaded the Foundation to give me pay rises, and eventually let me into what was then the Five. I enjoyed the work. And it's funny, because that's the oldest memory I have."
"That's like Uncle Duncan from that one show Locke and Key. His memories had all been taken away from him when he was younger to protect him." Drift remarked.
"But what would they protect me from?" the Imagined shook her head. She seemed like she was a fair acquaintance to the question by now.
"The Imagined and the Order." Mothy murmured vaguely.
"Yes, that's the name of me and my sister." the Imagined nodded, looking at Drift and then back at Mothy.
"The Imagined Order. That's what your names are together." Mothy added.
The Imagined looked almost afraid and Drift's eyes widened, his pulse quickening as she said, "I know. I would like to get into it, but not now. We don't have time now."
"I think I'm starting to get to the point you're trying to make." Drift thought, changing the subject, "You want to find the Paradigm and get her to pilot the mech."
The Imagined looked shakily at the floor and she closed her eyes, breathing slowly. Too many memories for one day. Drift had an aching feeling that gnawed away at him like he did to the last of his taco. He felt like she felt that she was a real idiot.
"That's not a bad idea." Drift let her know as she turned to stare at a dropped taco on the floor, "But this is a race. The Origin will get his way if we don't get a fourth pilot first."
"But will you bare it in mind?" the Imagined asked, her voice breaking.
Drift put her arm around the woman, appearing younger in her sadness, "Of course."
"Do you have a rough idea of where she is?" Mothy asked, reaching out to take the remainder of the Imagined's taco but stopping himself before he actually did.
"Nope! Not a clue. But she does have the Seven's frequency to contact us. In my opinion, she's just afraid of the Origin but then so am I." the Imagined scowled at the thought of the snarky man.
"I'm under the impression that we should be searching for other ideas." Drift admitted.
"So am I." the Imagined nodded, her voice breaking again and her eyes appearing watery. She did not seem on board.
"Are you sure?" Drift asked worriedly, "Becuase if you-"
"No. There's no other way. And who knows? Maybe the giant mech will make her come back." the Imagined smiled hopelessly.
"Maybe." Drift said. In truth, the chances of this happening were very slim.
"Well, if you're decided then I have an idea of my own I'd like to try!" Mothy leaned in.
The Imagined nodded, "Go on, then. Hopefully it's as good as I hope it'll be."
And then Mothy began to explain his idea. It wasn't exactly good. In fact, it was a bit stupid and quite luck based. But it was so stupid that it might just work, and if the luck worked out they'd get their mech for sure. Drift and the Imagined nodded to each other, ready to take on the world.

To be continued...