Ep. 1 - Control - Closed
Sept 30, 2012 14:54:29 GMT -5
Post by Deleted on Sept 30, 2012 14:54:29 GMT -5
As far as nights went, it had been one of his better ones.
He imagined he had Optimus to thank for that.
Fortress Maximus walked the halls, taking care to keep his footsteps soft on the metal floors. For all of it's raw newness, the big freshly-forged body performed flawlessly when he needed it to. It was a little unsettling to not hear the quiet tones his old body had made over millions of years of wear, through endless battle and repair. Instead he heard the sonorous rumble of generators deep in the base, the whisper of air circulating through the ventilation system.
What he didn't hear was other footfalls, the chatter of active Autobots as they went about their work. Still too early for all but the midnight shift, he supposed. Good. Didn't want to deal with company yet. Didn't really know how to.
He had spent the night doing very little at all. Resting was not an option. It never was. Instead he had roamed the base, silently inspecting the areas that he could access and noting with frustration the corridors he could not, by dint of being thwarted by his sheer size in a installation designed and constructed with the human species in mind. He had been impressed with the age of the facility, which had also left him wary - how could security be properly enforced in such a structure, when much of it was a rusting warren of forgotten hardwired tunnels and concrete bunkers inaccessible to all but the smallest of Cybertronians?
In the end he had forced himself not to think about it, no matter how much it chafed at him. Left him too paranoid. Keyed up. So he had made a mental note to find someone he could speak with about base security. Not to harass them in their work. Just- just to know where it stood, for his own peace of mind.
Maximus trailed to a halt. Ahead of him he sensed open space and moving air. The Control Room, the main silo, where the ground bridge was located. He tensed, uneasily aware of the big rifle still clipped to his back. If there were any other mechs awake at this time, that was where they would likely be found.
But there were monitors there as well, computers that could put him in touch with the years he had lost. And he couldn't avoid the other Autobots forever.
Maximus scowled and set his jaw. Straightened. Squared back the treads on his back. With his shoulders rigidly set he strode into the control room, his footsteps heavy on the floor.
He imagined he had Optimus to thank for that.
Fortress Maximus walked the halls, taking care to keep his footsteps soft on the metal floors. For all of it's raw newness, the big freshly-forged body performed flawlessly when he needed it to. It was a little unsettling to not hear the quiet tones his old body had made over millions of years of wear, through endless battle and repair. Instead he heard the sonorous rumble of generators deep in the base, the whisper of air circulating through the ventilation system.
What he didn't hear was other footfalls, the chatter of active Autobots as they went about their work. Still too early for all but the midnight shift, he supposed. Good. Didn't want to deal with company yet. Didn't really know how to.
He had spent the night doing very little at all. Resting was not an option. It never was. Instead he had roamed the base, silently inspecting the areas that he could access and noting with frustration the corridors he could not, by dint of being thwarted by his sheer size in a installation designed and constructed with the human species in mind. He had been impressed with the age of the facility, which had also left him wary - how could security be properly enforced in such a structure, when much of it was a rusting warren of forgotten hardwired tunnels and concrete bunkers inaccessible to all but the smallest of Cybertronians?
In the end he had forced himself not to think about it, no matter how much it chafed at him. Left him too paranoid. Keyed up. So he had made a mental note to find someone he could speak with about base security. Not to harass them in their work. Just- just to know where it stood, for his own peace of mind.
Maximus trailed to a halt. Ahead of him he sensed open space and moving air. The Control Room, the main silo, where the ground bridge was located. He tensed, uneasily aware of the big rifle still clipped to his back. If there were any other mechs awake at this time, that was where they would likely be found.
But there were monitors there as well, computers that could put him in touch with the years he had lost. And he couldn't avoid the other Autobots forever.
Maximus scowled and set his jaw. Straightened. Squared back the treads on his back. With his shoulders rigidly set he strode into the control room, his footsteps heavy on the floor.
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