Ep 1 - Nevada, Lake Mead - Downed
Aug 27, 2012 21:42:09 GMT -5
Post by Deleted on Aug 27, 2012 21:42:09 GMT -5
For a long time, his world shrunk down to nothing but the black depths of space.
Stars. Billions of them. And then the blue atmosphere of a planet, glowing like a halo.
A long plunge.
Once the dropship had shuddered down through the lower troposphere the autopilot had kicked out, and he had taken over the computers in order to revert back to manual control. Global positioning data had blinked up onto the viewscreen's HUD, glowing lines directing his path towards a dark lake on a dark landscape. Tiny lights twinkled far below. Huh. An inhabited planet after all. Just like the briefing had explained.
The landing had been smooth. By the book. The dropship had touched down upon the lake's surface and sunk deep, leaving only ripples and steam behind.
Now he lay back in the pilot's seat and stared impassively out the narrow viewscreen, a thin strip of clear silica glass that was one of the only things separating him from the crushing depths of the lake. Murky blue light suffused the cockpit of the dropship, playing weird shadows across his face. Somewhere on the surface a bright moon was shining down upon the water.
He watched shoals of fish winnow past the glass. Metal ticked softly as the dropship settled on the rocky lakebed. In the abyssal depths, his mind spoke quietly to him. He could stay here, it said. No one would ever know. The Nevada Autobots were unaware of his arrival. Autobot Command would chalk up another casualty of war, and not an unexpected one at that. He was no fool. He knew what they thought of him, of his survival chances. Stay here, until the water cracked the glass and flooded in.
But as it always did, the old voice of common sense spoke louder. All right, it said. Enough of that. Time to go.
He extended the shields and unlatched from the seat. The hatch hissed open. Only the shields prevented thousands of gallons of muddy water from surging into the cockpit. He sealed the hatch behind him and was hit with the pressure as the lake came smashing down around him. It was bad enough to make him stagger back. He laid his hand on the ship and kept his feet. He'd been through worse.
A long, hard slog across the bottom of the lake, through muck and watery darkness. Once, he saw a ghost in the distance, a great four-engined aircraft lying broken among the rocks. Just a vague shape, nothing more, coated in mud. It wavered in his vision and then vanished again, slipping away into the night. He turned his back on it. Sorry, friend. Can't help you now.
It took a long time to reach land. His feet hit a slope of rock and he followed it until his head crested the surface. Water sheeted off him as he lurched up the shore. Stars glittered overhead. The desert air was cool. He looked around and saw he stood at the bottom of a stone basin, surrounded by jagged mountain ranges. As water streamed from his metal plating he touched the side of his head and patiently waited for his internal positioning system to acquire enough satellites to give him his position. Lake Mead. Good.
Only then did Fortress Maximus activate his comm.
"Optimus Prime, this is- Fortress Maximus," he said, his voice curt and quiet. "Please acknowledge."
Stars. Billions of them. And then the blue atmosphere of a planet, glowing like a halo.
A long plunge.
Once the dropship had shuddered down through the lower troposphere the autopilot had kicked out, and he had taken over the computers in order to revert back to manual control. Global positioning data had blinked up onto the viewscreen's HUD, glowing lines directing his path towards a dark lake on a dark landscape. Tiny lights twinkled far below. Huh. An inhabited planet after all. Just like the briefing had explained.
The landing had been smooth. By the book. The dropship had touched down upon the lake's surface and sunk deep, leaving only ripples and steam behind.
Now he lay back in the pilot's seat and stared impassively out the narrow viewscreen, a thin strip of clear silica glass that was one of the only things separating him from the crushing depths of the lake. Murky blue light suffused the cockpit of the dropship, playing weird shadows across his face. Somewhere on the surface a bright moon was shining down upon the water.
He watched shoals of fish winnow past the glass. Metal ticked softly as the dropship settled on the rocky lakebed. In the abyssal depths, his mind spoke quietly to him. He could stay here, it said. No one would ever know. The Nevada Autobots were unaware of his arrival. Autobot Command would chalk up another casualty of war, and not an unexpected one at that. He was no fool. He knew what they thought of him, of his survival chances. Stay here, until the water cracked the glass and flooded in.
But as it always did, the old voice of common sense spoke louder. All right, it said. Enough of that. Time to go.
He extended the shields and unlatched from the seat. The hatch hissed open. Only the shields prevented thousands of gallons of muddy water from surging into the cockpit. He sealed the hatch behind him and was hit with the pressure as the lake came smashing down around him. It was bad enough to make him stagger back. He laid his hand on the ship and kept his feet. He'd been through worse.
A long, hard slog across the bottom of the lake, through muck and watery darkness. Once, he saw a ghost in the distance, a great four-engined aircraft lying broken among the rocks. Just a vague shape, nothing more, coated in mud. It wavered in his vision and then vanished again, slipping away into the night. He turned his back on it. Sorry, friend. Can't help you now.
It took a long time to reach land. His feet hit a slope of rock and he followed it until his head crested the surface. Water sheeted off him as he lurched up the shore. Stars glittered overhead. The desert air was cool. He looked around and saw he stood at the bottom of a stone basin, surrounded by jagged mountain ranges. As water streamed from his metal plating he touched the side of his head and patiently waited for his internal positioning system to acquire enough satellites to give him his position. Lake Mead. Good.
Only then did Fortress Maximus activate his comm.
"Optimus Prime, this is- Fortress Maximus," he said, his voice curt and quiet. "Please acknowledge."