Ep. 1 - The House of Stone and Light - Closed - Finis

[Deleted]

Set at the end of Episode 1, Marble Canyon and surrounding areas, the Grand Canyon!

---

The ranger lowered his binoculars and frowned.

He stood on the roof of the station. It was earning him some curious looks from the river runners who walked back and forth along the campground, their packs and lifejackets slung over their shoulders. Down on the rigging area a motley collection of inflatable rafts were already gathered in readiness for a day of rafting, dragged up onto the shallow rock with their paddles and kits already tucked inside. A few boats had already launched and were drifting out into the water in front of Lee's Ferry. The river current swept them gently downstream, where the rocks and rapids awaited them.

So far the day had turned out to be warm and sunny, the sky a pleasant blue. Sunlight sparkled along the river's surface. It was a good day for rafting. But the ranger was discontented. And he wasn't sure yet if he should upgrade that feeling to one of alarm.

Nonplussed, he scratched his chin.

Forty minutes ago he thought he had spotted a column of dark smoke rising up from the red rock cliffs to the south-west. Marble Canyon lay in that direction, where the river narrowed and the canyon walls towered high and steep. However, in the time it had taken him to fetch his binoculars and climb onto the roof of the ranger station the smoke had vanished. Gone, blown away by the wind.

His frown deepened. Perhaps a river runner had pulled their craft onto the smooth rock shore and lit a campfire on the riverside. Wood and charcoal fires were permitted in areas within the park, at proper campsite grills.

The ranger glanced back the other campers still gathered on the shore. They gadded eagerly next to their brightly coloured rafts. A festive air hung over the launch.

Hm. Maybe this wasn't worth radioing a helicopter for.

After all, vehicles were restricted in the park. So what could crash there?

----

Two Vehicons stood on the dusty ridge overlooking the river and stared down into the canyon.

"I'm not going down there," said one.

"I'm not going down there either," said the other.

"One of us has to."

"It will not be me."

The first Vehicon menacingly held up his blaster. "The Autobot is damaged. We can surely prevail over a damaged enemy. Even a large one."

"It's been forty minutes," said his comrade. "The enemy has had plenty of time to get to cover by now, from where he can formulate a defensive strategy. Or an ambush. I don't care how injured he might be. We're already two drones down. I am not going to risk being the third."

"Commander Starscream won't be happy if the Autobot gets away."

"Commander Starscream is never happy. I'm not going to get my head ripped off."

They exchanged a glare. Sunlight glinted off their visors, and off their charred aerial frames.

"We could both go down," said the first Vehicon. "Confront and destroy the enemy via a two-pronged assault."

"I've got a better idea," said the other.

He touched the side of his head and opened up a secure frequency.

"Courier Dart," he said shortly. "This is Vehicon patrol V944. We are currently stationed at the following co-ordinates, south wall of the canyon. We require a ground-based tracker at our position immediately. Respond."

"Genius," said the first Vehicon.

[Dart]

“Hurry up, George! You too, Donovan!"

“Oh for crying out loud, Martha, I’m coming,” came the irritated mutter. The heavyset tourist groped around the seat of the van. Diet Pepsi cans rolled over empty bags of potato chips. “The lens cap fell off the camera and went under the seat again.”

“Aw, mom, do I have to get out?”

“Yes, you do,” was Martha’s steely response to the teenager slumped over his iPhone in the back of the van. “We’re here to enjoy nature!”

The young man peered up at her from under his bangs. He blew out a puff of air out of the corner of his mouth. “Mom, it’s just been a lot of rocks,” he said. “We drive, we get out, we see more rocks. I’ve seen big rocks and little rocks and all sorts of rocks. I betcha we’re going to see even more rocks. Can’t I just stay in the car? It’s got air conditioning.”

Martha reached over and popped his headphones out of his ears. She dropped them in his lap and jerked her thumb. “Out. Out of the car. Now, Donovan.”

“Found the lens cap...” George crowed in triumph, holding it up as he worked his way back out of the car.

The parking lot overlooking the panoramic view was full.

Tourists flowed in and out of their cars. They were all shapes and sizes, ranging from lean, tanned athletic sorts with their fit-bit watches and shorts, to sweating, huffing and puffing families. Many of them dangled barely used SLR’s from brand new straps as they wandered to the edge of the vista guard rail and then clicked away at the scenery.

Some of the visitors stared around with wide-eyed awe. Most of the kids were bored half out of their minds after a day of being dragged here and there with nothing else to do. Donovan was one of them. He slowly climbed out of the side of the van and shut the door behind him. Already, his parents were halfway across the lot and loudly arguing back and forth about where George should stand to take the best picture of the family.

The teenager sighed and looked down at the iPhone in his hand. A flick of his fingers and he’d opened a window so that he could sign onto Facebook while he shuffled along.

“Here’s my status,” he muttered, tapping at the screen. “This trip sucks. It sucks big old-“

Not watching where he was going, he walked straight into the hood of a parked car.

“Ow!” he yelped. His phone skittered out of his hand, bounced over the front wheel well of the car and slid underneath the vehicle.

The dusty Trans-Am’s headlights popped up with an vehicular peek of equal surprise, and then quickly were flat once again. The car seemed to settle a bit over all four tires, as if it was trying to blend in with the rows of SUV’s and Subaru Outbacks.

“Aw, dammit...” Donovan said, rubbing his knee. A moment later he was hunting around for his phone. Finally he realized where it had gone and with a groan, he was down on his hands and knees trying to reach it. There wasn’t much clearance under this car, and he couldn’t grab it where it had fallen, no matter how hard he tried. “Oh no, really? Really?”

“Did you drop your phone?” someone said, with a note of concern.

Donovan looked up, surprised and a little embarrassed. The Trans-Am’s window was slightly rolled down but since he was staring up into the bright sun in the position he was in he couldn’t see anyone in it. At least the voice sounded young... and it was female, so he hadn’t run into some old grumpy guy’s car. They were the worst, and then his parents would chew him out. That was the absolute worst.

“Um. Yeah. Sorry, I didn’t mean to run into your car,” he mumbled.

“Oh gosh, don’t worry about it...” was the reply. It was followed by a soft chuckle. “Trust me, my car’s had a whole lot worse than that lately. Your knee okay?”

“Yeah...” Donovan replied.

One mirror tilted slightly, as if the person was adjusting it from the inside. “Can’t reach it?” she asked. “I can back up a little bit, if you give me a-“

There was an abrupt pause, and then she started talking again. “Oh. Hey, I have to get going, actually.” Her voice was apologetic. "Work calling. Um, Here. I’ll be careful, let me back out and you get the phone, okay? I know how expensive they are.”

Waiting until Donovan had scrambled to his feet, the driver carefully backed out of the spot, and held still for a moment to protect him from another car pulling in until he’d retrieved his phone. Then the dark car turned out of the parking lot. The back blinker flicked on as it slipped out into traffic and was soon gone down the by-way.

“Dart here, sir,” she called back over the secure frequency. “Co-ordinates received, I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

Well, something was up. Dart wasn’t sure what it was– really, she hadn’t been privy to the situation. Just been told to stay put and keep a look out. It was fine. The view was gorgeous. So was the canyon. She’d been content just to park there and watch the landscape... and the people. So many conversations about idle, daily things. Did you remember this, that, that hotel really stunk, don’t hold the camera like that.

The courier waited until she was in an area where there were no cars passing or approaching; and then abruptly turned off the road into one of the pullouts. A quick shift; plating tucked in, tires flattened. A second later, she’d pushed off with her foot and was bounding into the rocky landscape.

True to her word, it wasn’t long before she was sliding to a stop near the two waiting Vehicons. Her spoiler flattened and flicked to keep her balance, she dug her heels into the ground and then rocked up on her toes.

A quick brush of her fingers to her chest in salute to them. “Reporting, sirs. What do you need me to trail for you?”

MECH was her first thought... strange, that they would be out here.

[Deleted]

The Vehicons had turned to face her the moment her arrival had sent pebbles rattling across the ridge. They now regarded her silently, tall and dark and angular, visors glowing, their faces an expressionless mask.

"We have cornered an Aubobot in this region of the canyon," said one bruquely, without preamble. He pointed below, to the bottom of the ridge and the dark blue river that swiftly between its rough bed of silt and stone. Marble Canyon roared in the distance, a deep, meandering gully of steep red-rock cliffs and loose scree. "He's damaged, and leaving a trail."

"Initial scans report that this canyon is riddled with caverns and cave passages," said the other. "We have been unable to pinpoint his signature from the air, and thus suspect he has gone to ground under cover. Your job will be to track and locate his position in order for our aerial units to progress further in pressing their assault."

The Vehicon jets glanced at one another.

"You are not required to engage the enemy in combat," said the first. "That would not be a recommended course of action. Mark his co-ordinates, and retreat. That is all."

[Dart]

Dart's hands automatically slipped to the small of her back as she listened to the two mechs. When the first glossy, sleek flier pointed into the canyon, there was an answering lift of the courier's spoiler. The angular tips crept up and pricked over her scruffy shoulders as she cocked her head.

They'd- they'd - oh just lovely. They'd attacked and cornered an Autobot? They didn't explain much, but her best guess was a flier that they'd caught up with out here. Not many roads that were safe to drive on unless you transformed into a Land Rover or a Jeep. Well, or a Bighorn Sheep. Huh, that would be kind of cool to see, actually. Unless it was charging at you. Then no. No thank you.

From far below scent of water fumed up. In this arid, dry country, the odor was unmistakable to her, lifted on the air currents. Green shrub dotted the edges of the winding, lining the Colorado river with verdant green. It was absolutely beautiful, but there were only treacherous paths down into it from this angle.

When he finished speaking, Dart's spoiler fell back a bit and she rocked back on her heels. She glanced at their weapons, their fighting aircraft builds and then back at herself. At first she half thought he was making a bit of a joke, but then she realized, no, he wasn't kidding.

Not a recommended course of action? Gee, um, and here my first thought had been to hop down there, track this guy down and... um, throw a rock at him. Sure, why not. Watch it be a dinobot. No, no, no - oh boy, don't even think that, Dart. Oh, whew, dinobots didn't fly, pretty sure they don't fly. Hope they don't fly.

"Ah, no, I can't see that being at all a recommended course of action," Dart repeated dutifully, brushing her hand tentatively against near the marred sigil on her chest in a polite salute to them. "Not at all, sirs. Mark the co-ordinates and retreat. Understood. I'll call it in if I find anything." She hoped that there was someone else close down there already - just not the fliers. Possible if they were hunting for him.

That is all. Right. She accepted the mech's dismissal, and padded to the edge of the canyon, looking down.

Dart trotted along the edge for a moment and finally settled on a narrow path that held the scents of deer and - oh, burros. If animals thought it was solid, it could likely be trusted for a bit until it got too thin.

She started to carefully pick her way down the trail, looking down.

A long, long way down.

With a lot of sharp rocks at the bottom.

Sigh.

[Deleted]

The Vehicons waited until the top of Dart's head had disappeared around the edge of the path. It took longer for the patter of her feet on the rocky ground to fade into the canyon.

Warily, they edged to the cliffside and looked down.

"Better her than us," said one Vehicon.

"Monitor this frequency," said the other. "I anticipate a distress call will be forthcoming in the near future."

----

The descent into the Canyon was, at least, breathtaking.

The grand vista spread from one corner of the horizon to the other, a vast crevasse of sheer red rock that stretched further and further over the head the deeper she climbed, as big as the sky. Sound boomed off its walls as the wind whistled cheerfully through the canyon and the deep blue river rushed blue and sparkling below, throwing sheets of spray and foam into the air as it crashed through the rocks. In areas the rapids calmed, formed wide, shallow pools where the surf eddied gently against smooth banks of stone that sloped into the water, cracked with age. Tough grasses and tufts of scrubby green brush grew along the lowest shelves of rock, while loose pebbles clinked underfoot.

Beneath Dart's feet the sandy path wound downwards to the edge of one such pool. Warmth rose from the stone as the sun beat down overhead, high in the blue sky. Tiny insects buzzed drowsily through the brush, bees stirred back and forth between flowering bushes. Birds twittered over the canyon walls. Violet shadows lay across the cliffs, as beautiful against the sandy red rock as if they had been painted with oil and brush.

The canyon curved off to the west. Along the river the shore was worn stone and open - easy to walk on, but with little cover other than the sparse brush. But the sunlight was pleasant and the breeze and the water was cool at least, and few scents other than warm grass, fat mice, and faraway humans lingered in the air.

Only one other scent cut through them, heavy and acrid. It was smoke. It came from the west.

[Dart]

It was absolutely stunning. Bands and ripples of red rock and gold stone, touched by the sun and shadow.

Dart was in awe on her way down to the bottom of the canyon. She had paused here and there just to stop and stare, to look up and feel incredibly small. The path was treacherous in places though; once she touched her weight down to a ledge, and before she could even react, the sandstone path sheared off under her weight.

It was Dart’s reflexes that kept her from tumbling heel over nose down to those very sharp rocks at the bottom she’d noted earlier. The courier yelped and pushed off with a bound. She pinwheeled frantically, all flailing arm and leg in an attempt to keep her balance in the loose scree. A scramble, she grabbed with her hands and dug in with her heels as she slid sideways, tearing up a path of scrub. Luckily there was one big solid rock that she ended up on, staring downwards over the edge.

Stone rattled and bounced, shattering off as it rained down into the depths below. Dart winced and hoped there wasn’t anything below that couldn’t handle that. Not good. Watch out for falling rocks, sure, but um, she doubted there was anything in anyone’s insurance policy that covered Act of Cybertronian.

The way things were going here, the humans might add it some day. Especially if uh, she fell. Hard to explain that away if that happened. So not a weather balloon. Not even close.

Dart struggled back upright and pressed herself back against the canyon wall. Her fingers dug into the stones behind her as she attempted to regain herself. She ducked her chin and snorted out a nervous puff of air, trying not to jitter or twitch. Then she shook herself a bit, driving a frightened shudder away before she continued downward.

The rest of the journey proved uneventful. That’s exactly how she wanted it. When Dart finally made the canyon bottom, she trotted forward in a ruffle of sand and looked up. The view was amazing sure... but she was on solid, straight ground. All of a sudden, she laughed to herself and bounded forward, a delighted motion of limb and leg; a horse released from a starting gate, ready to run.

It was only a few strides of pure motion before she reined herself in. There was no cover, no trees. Nooks and crannies of stone that reached deep into the sides of the massive rift; keep on your toes, stay alert, easy to snipe from... ugh - but at least there was escape forward or backward in the canyon. She could bolt fast if need be, she could forge the river...

The courier lifted her head, sniffed, turned slightly, her spoiler pricking over her shoulders as her systems settled on that smell. Oily and thick, totally out of place among the natural scents. Not a campfire smell either.

Dart aligned her nose on it, and broke into a ground-eating trot. West it was.

[Deleted]

It didn't take long to find the source of the smoke.

The faint scent trailed along the river bed, winding its way down the canyon. As Dart picked her way along the shore she would soon detect other scents mingling with it - the reek of jet exhaust and spent blaster fire, harsh and acrid. Here and there telltale black marks appeared on the canyon floor, scorch marks where a powerful weapon had spat fire and seared rock, burning the flowering brush the poked up through the cracks into crumbling ash. A light haze still hung in the air, nearly indistinguishable from the mist kicked up from the rapids. Through it drove another scent, as sharp as a knife:

The smell of spilt fuel.

Drops of it were scattered across the loose scree beneath her feet, oily black flakes than shone where the sun hit them. Pressed into the sand at the edge of the water were prints, spread apart in a broad and heavy-footed stride that staggered in and out of the rippling water. Where the prints stepped over a shelf of rock the fuel trail dripped across the warm stone in stringy rivulets, trickling into whatever crack they could find. To a human such a trail was too large in scale to seem like anything more than a wandering oil leak left behind from an ailing vehicle - but to Cybertronian eyes they made a clear trail to the west.

The canyon wound onwards, through sweeping bends in the river. Small trees appeared, sparsely leafed and gently bowed by the wind. The brush grew taller and more verdant, fed by lush springs that burst from the red canyon walls and spashed down into the river in a series of tiny waterfalls. There was no sign of human life at least - few rafters came this far down the river, preferring to pull their crafts ashore a few miles back. Hawks soared overhead, riding the updrafts. Disturbed insects buzzed and fluttered around the courier's legs. It was a quiet place that hummed with water, light and life. Only the grisly fuel trail seemed out of place, black drops on the stone like foul smelling berries.

The river flowed through a sharp bend. It widened into a calm pool, draped in shadow by the towering canyon walls. Here the air was cool, a sharp bitterness fed by the deep, cold water of the river. In the middle of the pool the water flowed oddly, sweeping around some large object that lay submerged just beneath the current. The tip of a black wing broke the surface, like a dead stick. Wisps of smoke curled in the air.

A slick of fuel bobbed around the wing tip, gleaming in the sun.

[Dart]

Dart followed the trail. Each step the scent became fresher, each time she set a foot down she was cautious and careful. The courier was on her toes, and little sounds set her skittering a few steps one way, then a few steps the other. Waste of fuel, waste of motion, but she couldn't help it, she was just on edge and looking up, looking around - so many places to hide. Too many places to hide in and shoot from.

The courier plashed through the water. It flicked up and didn’t bother to bead on her plating. Instead it made muddy trails down her calves as she carefully traced each drop, each place the mech had entered the water and stepped out of it.

A step, a sniff, her nose turning into the air currents between scattered drops, between burn marks.

She crouched once, resting on her haunches and supporting herself on the tips of her fingers, brought her nose close to the earth, trying to pick up any scent, to see if - no, no one was familiar. The fuel itself was familiar, the oily color that gleamed across the pale stones and she snorted out a little puff from her intakes. Sand and dust rose up and glittered in the sun, motes twirling lightly before they fell back to the ground. A hare watched her motions from the safety of the brush and then loped away, leaving only a memory of pale fur and shining eyes.

Sometimes Dart ran across mechs that she’d known - it was funny, once she put scent to a form, she simply did not forget it, even years later. Well, she was pretty sure that was the case. At least everyone so far she’d run across and run into again, she remembered by smell. This one was not familiar, but the fuel smell ran high and hot. Bad injury. Terrible one.

She rose and eased herself on; slipping naturally towards the small trees, into the brush, using the cover as best she could. Bad fight, bad, bad fight. Firefight, and that- she’d run through them after, she knew all the odors that hung on the air, and even the cheerful spill of the water down the rock face the sides of the canyon didn’t make it any less foreboding to go forward. The bend didn’t help - hard to see behind you and in front of you and the odors pooled and swirled and twisted into one miasmic mess.

It was the un-natural motion of the water that caused her to freeze in place. She lifted a foot, she stared, but she did not move except to frantically sweep her nose back and forth in the air current, ready for a trap, ready to run. It wasn’t to the wing she focused, but the walls and the ground around her - looking for a hole where perhaps someone had gone to ground to shoot from; you could easily take a flier out like that if they tried swooping down on you. Or someone standing still in the sights. Brush was good. She wished it was a pine forest about now.

A tiny puff of air escaped her, her spoiler twitching as she looked at the dark deep pool. Radio it in. she thought.

[Deleted]

The corpse in the water didn't move, didn't stir. Only the river flowed over it, rippling where the protruding wing tip broke through the current. The sound of running water echoed high up the canyon walls.

Above her were holes.

Old, worn holes, weathered by wind and rain. There were only a handful, but they carved deep into the cliffs. Some were mere cracks, fissures that split the rock for hundreds of feet. Swallows flitted in and out of them, and their twittering cries filled the air. Water trickled down from some, leaving dark stains of moisture on the red rock. None of the holes were very large, just wide enough to admit a human crawling on his hands and knees. Without words they spoke of the caves that still riddled much of the canyon. They gazed down upon the courier like dark eyes.

Smoke drifted past her. It stank. Her sensors would pull in few other odours. Just the green sage scent of the warm brush, the trace of rabbit and spilt fuel. A little wind blew down the gulch, bringing with it older smells - sweat, human boots, the rubberised fabrics of rafts. And the charcoal stench of weapon fire. The wind rustled the grass.

Something was watching her.

It stood on the shallow bank of the river a little further away, its feet in the water, surrounded by a splashes of dark gore. Its grey plaid shirt was streaked with dirt and soot, and the knees of its blue jeans were torn. A worn backpack hung from one of its shoulders. Its rough, bearded face was bruised and streaked with blood. It stared with glassy eyes, limbs slack, its expression confused and distant with shock, as if it didn't really care about anything its empty gaze took in at that moment. It was a man.

He was looking right at her.

[Dart]

Dart froze in mid step. One foot up, her spoiler pricked over her shoulders, the courier stood stock still, gaze locked on the man. She huffed in a tiny bit of air, her sensors tearing it apart frantically, molecule by molecule. Her systems were overloaded; so much fuel and smoke she couldn’t differentiate the man’s blood and sweat from the overlaying stink of injury and mechanical death.

That didn’t surprise her, she always interchanged the odors. Pyrotech often voiced his distaste about her misfires and quirks, but, no, that wasn’t why that happened. Not at all. It was simply a deep rooted thing in how she processed scent.

The hiker appeared in bad, bad shape. His body language read to her like any other horribly injured animal. The man was obviously hurt, terribly stunned, but his base instincts were ones she understood, firing in deep, primal places. Keep on your feet. Don’t go down, or you’re dead.

Wrong place. Wrong time. Just out living your life, hiking along, minding your own business. That’s all these things took and then you were caught in the middle of someone else’s power struggle, and then...

I- I can’t call this in.

She couldn’t. She called the discovery just yet and the Vehicon's arrival might terrify the poor man in to running. They would get what they needed, and tell her to go back to base, mission done, and the man would be left out here to possibly die. Or– or the other Decepticons might just decide that it was too dangerous have any witness in case the Autobots showed up...

She winced. To many Cybertronians humans were honestly no more than vermin. Worth nothing, like most organic life on this planet. Beneath them.

No. Simply in their way, that’s all.

Dart shifted her weight over her toes and glanced up into the sharp blue sky, into the wavers of heat coming off the rocks. No chance to hide herself now. No way she could try some other way of communicating with him that was less intimidating or shocking. Hopefully he wouldn’t scream in terror and run into the brush. Er, please don’t do that, she thought.

The man needed to get out of here, that was for certain. There were other humans somewhere no doubt, maybe farther upstream, but he was in no condition to find them, and she doubted cell-phone service worked at all down here. She glanced at the holes, at the caves, and then back to the corpse in the water and another shiver rattled her plating.

A tiny noise curled out of her throat, drifting across the distance between them. It was a soft mechanical whine, a wordless query of concern and worry. Slowly, carefully, Dart spread her hands out, palms up, offering the injured man that universal gesture of supplication.

“Hello,” she said softly. “Sir? Are you- are you all right, sir?"

[Deleted]

"Uh," said the man.

He looked around himself, as if in a daze. His brown hair and scruffy, close-cut beard and moustache were shot with grey, painting him as middle-aged at most. Despite his unsteady footing he looked fit and otherwise hale, though his unfocused eyes spoke quietly of a nasty head injury. His bloodied face and his forearms, bare to the elbows where he had rolled back the sleeves of his grey-plaid shirt, were tanned and lightly scarred from a life of hard work.

His clothing was stained and dirty. The backpack on his back might have been blue once, but was now brown with grime.

"Uh," he said again. He drew a shaky hand across his brow as he tried to gather his concentration, shadowing his eyes. "You. Uh. You. One of you."

His feet splashed in the shallows as he turned and pointed behind himself, back down the river.

"You, one of you," he said. He swallowed heavily. "Another one. Another one of you. Back there. Big one. Another... another one of you. My - my daughter..."

[Dart]

Dart's optics shuttered in a quick blink. The courier huffed in an automatic pull of air to sniff again; it almost sounded like a gasp. She inched forward towards him, hands still outstretched. Rude to get closer, rude to lower yourself down and shove your nose into his personal space to try and discern how bad his injuries were. Had a rock come down on him, or had he been knocked back by the force of the impact?

She glanced over the stones, the brush, took another light step forward, ducking her helm again. The scent of sage crushed under her toes, her spoiler was still chattering softly. Dart could not help but shift her weight and dig a toe into the earth as the shadows of crevasse and caves seemed even more forboding.

One of you.

She followed the hiker's wavery point more with her nose than her eye, trying to catch the currents of air, searching for another scent. Human ones. There was something that had settled into the courier's lean frame at the mention of his daughter, a bit of resolve, a bit of decision.

A sharp snort puffed out of Dart, sounding more like a nervous filly than an attempt to reset her sensors. "One of us," she murmured. Autobot? Decepticon? Who knew, but it was not what she wanted to hear for very different reasons.

Dart glanced over at the tip of the wing, eddying the water. Oil moved and gleamed on the surface. Another one. A big one. Well, she certainly wasn't small, in the scheme of Cybertronians, right? Great. This mech was bigger and you know, bigger mechs meant bigger guns. Or maces. Axes. Swords. All of the above. Oh, so not good. So, so not good.

"Yes sir. Can you walk at all? I think- ah, are you able to step out of the water. Please? I promise. I'm here to help you right now. Nothing more."

A look back up the canyon the way he'd pointed, and then her spoiler flattened across her shoulders. "Can you remember what happened? Can you tell me? I need to know, because if your daughter is back there, I'm going to try and go get her out of there and then get you both to safety before anyone comes back."

[Deleted]

The man stank of smoke, and of the same fuel that lay in spatters across the rock. He stood in an ugly patch of it; it glimmered on the surface of the water, swirling around his hiking boots and soaking the cuffs of his jeans. He did not seem to notice the gore. For most humans, oil was just oil after all.

He stumbled on a rock as he backed away from the courier.

"Walking, with my daughter," he said. He gestured shakily to the gully behind him. "Just for the day. Out for a hike. And then, heard a crash. Like - an airplane, or helicopter. Saw black smoke. Told her to stay behind, I came running. Here. To help. Thought it was a crash."

He broke off and pressed his hand over his eyes, as if the act of speaking beneath the brilliant sunlight nauseated him. But after a moment he licked his lips, took a deep breath, and marshalled his strength.

"A giant - thing. Charged past me. Too big. It, uh, stumbled a lot. Fell into a wall not far from here. I took cover, but rocks - knocked loose. Fell. I got hit. It ran off. I ran here. It's still running. Back towards my daughter. She's only fourteen!"

The man splashed out of the river and stood dripping on the shore. He staggered back the direction he had come, but not before turning once and gesturing vaguely at Dart.

"This way," he said. "Show you, I can - I can show you. Follow me. Not leaving my daughter!"

He took off down the river bed.

[Dart]

Dart listened and did not interrupt the man at all. She did not step closer after his first stumble; in fact, she backed off a step on her own, immediately offering him distance. The courier respected personal space; keyed into body language more than words, she understood when something else didn't want her in it. Humans were easy for her to read for her. Like wildlife, they had very distinct body motions. The tip of their shoulders, a clenched hand. Even the smell of them - nervous sweat, a touch of perfume, all those things added layers to understanding.

Well, at least this man wasn't staring at her like she was a bad reject from a summer blockbuster. Or he hadn't fallen down on his knees and prayed to God, screamed... or uh, chased her with a broom. Yeah. That little old lady had a downright vicious swat, and Dart was still sorry she'd knocked over her garbage can. At least the woman hadn't been wearing her glasses, Dart supposed, but to this day the courier really didn't see how she'd been mistaken for a raccoon. Honest.

Cybertronians were far better at hiding their emotions. It was harder with all the kibble on their frames. Hahah, kibble, she'd made a funny. Had to laugh at something because right now it was that or turn on her heel and bolt- which she might have, had it not been for this man. No, she would have. Called in in and dashed out of here and thanked her lucky stars that she'd done her job and could leave.

The injured hiker's speech was disjointed, fast- but Dart followed his words as easily as she'd picked up the trail of the wounded. It left her gulping a little - but it also allowed a bit of hope to sneak in. All right. A flier. It had been a dogfight, ugh. At least a flier would have some difficulties down here. Fell into a wall, stumbling. Possible that both parties were hurt, or deactivated - oh, no. Still running.

No time though, not to think about it, not with... she hoped the man's daughter was all right.

Another concerned whine escaped her, she couldn't cut it off. That- that would be horrible, if things ended. Please let this girl be smart and stay low and get out of the way.

"All right," Dart answered immediately, and gathered herself up. "I think you should s- oh, er, wait-"

The man was already running down the stones, and her "Whoa, wait, be careful..." was no doubt lost in his anxious stumble. The courier hurried to trot after him and quickly caught up. Her shadow fell between him and the nooks and crannies that surrounded them; her spoiler chattering nervously as she threw a wary eye and nose above them.

Slow down, slow... oh. Well that was sort of a silly thought coming from her.

[Deleted]

The sun shone brightly overhead as they ran down the riverside, framed between the red canyon walls. Their footfalls rang up into the blue sky.

Despite the tense air, the canyon remained a beautiful sight. Red, brown, and tan bands of colour striped the rocky cliffs like a mojave blanket. The river flowed beside them, as blue as the sky, quickening whenever it narrowed through a stony chute. The cheerful bubble of running water would echo in Dart's audials as she ran. Swallows skimmed over the water, chasing tiny gnats, while squirrels scampered in and out of the paintbrush, the gnarled junipers.

The man ran grimly. Now and then he stumbled, catching himself on a rock or boulder before he could fall to his knees. There he would steady himself, his wrist pressed to his forehead as if to fend off a headache, his mouth stretched into a grimace. But he did not wilt, and spoke not a word of complaint. After a moment he would push himself upright and stagger off again, his boots sliding in the loose pebbles.

Before long the river wandered around another steep bend and widened into a broad lagoon. The canyon walls reared straight from the river to the open sky, leaving only a narrow spit of brush and sand at their foot. Dart and the hiker left a trail of soft prints along it as they wandered into the lagoon.

"There!" said the man.

He stumbled forward. Ahead of them a wide sandy beach sloped up to the mouth of an enormous cavern. The limestone walls were red and smooth inside, and a handful of big rocks lay strewn at its mouth.

The man stopped at the entrance and stood there, weaving on his feet. The cavern dwarfed him, cool and echoing.

He mopped his forehead.

"It was - here, it was here," he said. He turned around in place, as if looking for something on the ground. "We - my daughter and I - we were going to explore the cave. I left her here. Look, look there."

He pointed to the sand underfoot. It was threshed about, and sprinkled with a trail of dark fluid.

"There. That's where the - the thing ran. Inside."