Ep. 1 - Ghost Town - (Closed)

[Deleted]

Where: Control Room, Autobase. The Mojave Desert.
When: Midnight. Set shortly after "Close Encounters"
Who: Mirage, MECH.

---

Northwest of Eureka, the dark hills of the Mojave lit up like a fallen star.

Mining loaders plied back and forth through the slab-sided crater, shovelling mounds of earth from the quarry bottom. Yellow haul trucks stood by, waiting to be filled. Conveyor belts piled ore from the crushers, while long apron feeders pulled more of it from dump hoppers to grizzlies. Smoke and dust churned thick in the air, which vibrated with the sound of rumbling engines.

Flood lamps shone down into the open pit. Further back sat the Ruby Hill processing plant, backed by steel catwalks and giant vats of cyanide and leached slurry. Lines of pipe and hose extended into the desert, flowing with waste. Even at midnight the gold mine was still noisy, active, a harsh white oasis of light.

Higher up in the mountain, the ghost town of Ruby Hill lay dark and quiet.

Dust blew across the empty street. Derelict frame houses sat forgotten beneath the light of the moon, their paint peeling and their grimy windows broken and boarded. A train station stood on the edge of town, its rails tangled in scrub brush. Telephone poles crossed the street, still hung with bare wire. A heavy coat of red rust plated the generators inside the mill, the great machinery silent after decades of abandonment.

The wind blew across the porch of the old mining company office, rustling the dry grass that grew up through the slats. Behind it loomed the water tower, still cradled atop a skeleton of pipes and iron girders. It looked down over the desert, and over the gold mine in the valley below.

At the top of the mountain sat the oldest ruins, crumbled stone walls with dark holes for windows. Beneath them, deep shafts bored into the dusty slopes of granite and gneiss, dug back in the days when men delved for ruby silver, now forsaken for gold.

Something else was being dug for in the mountain these days.

---

"I don't know, Optimus," said Arcee.

It was midnight. The control room was empty and dimly lit, its lights powered down to conserve energy. Only the monitors were fully illuminated, their screens crowded with images of topographic maps and patrol data.

The two Autobots spoke in quiet voices. Arcee had ushered the others from the room an hour ago, saying that she would take over monitor duty for the midnight watch. Optimus Prime had joined her shortly after, a sombre presence. They now gathered around the monitors.

Arcee sat in the control chair, one foot resting on the opposite knee. Her mouth was pursed, her brow drawn.

"I agree that he's the best Autobot for this sort of thing," she said. "It's just... the information we're acting on comes from a very unreliable source. And he only just arrived at the base. It's a lot to spring at one person all at once."

"I understand your concern," said Optimus. He stood offside, his arms folded over his chest. "But I'm afraid that we have uncovered no other indication of where the base might lie. This shall only be a recon mission. And he is well experienced in dealing with the unexpected."

Arcee slowly nodded, reluctant. She leaned on her arm and tapped the side of her head.

"I'll call him," she said, and opened a private comm line.

"Mirage? This is Arcee. Sorry to wake you if you were resting. Optimus Prime and I would like to speak with you in the Control Room if you have a moment."

[Deleted]

Mirage had the habit of keeping odd hours. Due to the nature of his work, he was often up and about in the dead of night running errands of the clandestine variety, by order of his commanding officers. Such was the life of a special operative. Shadowy work was not exactly well-suited for daylight hours, so midnight escapades were a staple part of the job. Mirage had long since grown accustomed to this facet of his life, and so he adjusted his recharge-habits accordingly. He learned to sleep lightly, to wake quickly, and to anticipate sudden late-night interruptions of the “this needs to be done immediately” variety.

Though, as it so happened, he had no need to employ any of those skills when Arcee comm’d him. He had not been asleep at the time (not for a lack of trying) and as he stared up at the ceiling waiting for weariness to settle in, he busied his restless hands with a game of catch. With a lazy flick of his wrist, he tossed one of his throwing-knives into the air above him, watching with muted interest as it spun then fell, then dove back down towards him. He caught the blade’s handle with a disappointing amount of ease, plucking it from the air and tossing it back up towards the ceiling with the vain hope that the next catch might prove to be more challenging. The game was meant to keep one’s reflexes and hand-eye coordination sharp as well as entertain, but Mirage found it grew tedious rather quickly. Throw, catch, repeat until your optics glaze over. That was the formula.

It had been entertaining once, when he felt there was an actual risk that he might not catch the knife before it bloodied his face, but that was long ago. Now the game’s only use was being a simple, repetitive task that busied his hands and helped him clear his head when he found it difficult to focus. It was hardly a stimulating activity by any means, but at least it was not as dull as staring at the ceiling.

Just as the blade came down for the hundredth or so time, and the game had reached the peak of monotony, a sudden ping echoed in his head, disrupting his concentration. He subsequently found himself catching the blade by its flat instead of its handle, the metal pressed awkwardly between his thumb and forefinger as he avoided its sharp edges. Sitting up, he returned his plaything to his subspace and pressed two fingers against the side of his helm to listen to the message.

"Mirage? This is Arcee. Sorry to wake you if you were resting. Optimus Prime and I would like to speak with you in the Control Room if you have a moment."

Oh. Well, that was a terribly vague summons. It gave no indication towards what he was being called in for, or what Arcee and the Prime wished to discuss with him, but Mirage went out on a limb and assumed they either wished to consult him about something important that could not wait until a less ungodly hour of the day, or they had a job for him. He was almost hoping for the latter, honestly. He did not suffer boredom or idleness well, and experiencing both at once made him welcome the idea of a mission.

“Yes, of course.” He replied, as he swung his legs off the berth onto the floor, before his way towards the door. “I shall be there shortly.”

True to his word, Mirage wasted little time making his way to the Control Room, taking quiet strides as to not disturb anyone who might be resting. Once reaching the door he knocked twice upon its frame to announce his presence, before ushering himself inside. He dipped his head in acknowledgement towards the two, nodding first to the Prime, then to Arcee. He paused before them, glancing between one then the other, before neatly folding his hands behind his back.

“How may I be of assistance?” He asked, with a slight tilt of his head. “To be called upon at such an hour, I can only assume there is some sort of important matter which needs tending to.”

[Deleted]

Both Autobots in the control room turned at the sound of his voice.

"Mirage," said Optimus. He inclined his head to return the spy's greeting. "It is good to see you."

Arcee swivelled her seat around to face him. The monitors glowed behind her, outlining her slim frame in green light. Her posture was relaxed, but an air of tension lingered in the back of her gaze and her voice, when she spoke, was crisp. Business-like.

"Thank you for coming," she said. "And you're right. Something has come up within the past forty-eight hours that we would prefer not to make common knowledge around the base, at least not until it can be properly verified. At the same time, it's important enough that we believe we need to act upon it immediately in some capacity."

She reached back around and tapped at one of the monitors with her fingertips. A wide area map of the Nevada desert swept into view, oriented itself, and zoomed in, lines blurring before resolving back into stark clarity.

While Arcee arranged data upon the monitors, Optimus turned to Mirage.

"Before we go into detail, I need to ask you," he said. His gaze was grave. "I know you have arrived only recently, but have you had the opportunity to bring yourself up to date on our activities - and our predicament - here on Earth? I specifically ask in regards to a human organization called MECH. An in-depth understanding of the threat they present to us will assist you well in the mission we wish to send you on."

[Deleted]

Ah. So the late night summons was of the “this task needs to be done immediately” variety. Mirage had not exactly been expecting one quite so soon after arriving on-world, but he was not about to complain about having something to do. Nor was he going to turn down an assignment for which he was apparently the most qualified mecha on base to preform. After all, if he had been called in despite having only recently integrated himself into the team, then clearly he must have been the best choice for whatever pressing matter needed to be seen to. He didn’t know what exactly the pressing matter entailed, but regardless, he was not about to say “no” to something the Prime called upon him to do.

He paid close attention to the map as it came into view, optics searching the layout of the desert for notable landmarks, or anything that looked particularly out of place. He did not get to search long, unfortunately, as shortly after he looked upon the map his attention was called away by the Prime. Frowning thoughtfully, he turned his gaze to the ceiling briefly as he considered the other mech’s words and gathered his thoughts. Truth be told, he had not researched the MECH organization in very much depth, but he knew the basics and then some, and he was sure whatever relevant information he was lacking would be provided for him. So, that being said, he was not terribly worried about going into things uninformed.

“I am familiar with the organization, yes, though I must admit my knowledge is not as extensive as it could be.” He replied, as he tore his gaze from the ceiling and returned it to the Prime. “From what I’ve gathered, they possess enough resources and technologically advanced weaponry to pose a considerable threat to us.”

He paused, before adding as an afterthought: “--To their fellow humans as well, though I suppose that really goes without saying.”

[Deleted]

Optimus said nothing in reply, although the grim look that came over his face spoke clearly enough for him.

"Unfortunately, we can't really claim to have a whole lot of knowledge of MECH either," said Arcee. She finished bringing up images upon the monitors and leaned back to allow Mirage room to examine them freely, should he so wish. "To this day their most personal attacks have been upon the Decepticons, though we have engaged in a few random skirmishes with their troops. All Agent Fowler can tell us is that they work in opposition to the United States government, that they have an interest in acquiring high-level technology, and that many of their personnel likely hailed from the US military."

She grimaced. "So... armed, equipped, and trained to use what weaponry they do possess, yes."

"Up until now we have been unable to ascertain the location of any potential bases of operation," said Optimus. "They have employed hit and run tactics across a wide number of states, as well as further abroad, and thanks to their in-depth knowledge of their operational territory they have been adept at retreating swiftly afterwards, leaving few signs of their presence behind them. We have had little success in tracing back what they do leave, either through human channels of administration or economy, or out in the field - until recently."

"Ha!" said Arcee. "Yes. Finally, we got a lead."

She tapped the green-lit topographical map on the monitor, which was slightly cluttered by digital images of dilapidated buildings, old water towers, a steep mountain peak, against which loomed rusted scaffolding.

"We got a report from a witness who, for the past eight months, has observed a significant number of strange helicopters flying in and out of an unknown location on Prospect Mountain, just northwest of the township of Eureka, Nevada, near an old ghost town that was once called Ruby Hill," she said. She laid her fingertip upon a dot on the map. "There are no reported airports or helopads in this area, and no nearby mining sites that would require the use of a charter helicopter service to fly its workers to and from the mines. So right away that raises some red flags in my mind. MECH has shown a preference for helos in their operations thus far."

Arcee looked back over her shoulder at Mirage. "The problem is, we can't get any of our Autobots close enough to this ghost town to give it a proper investigation. If MECH has indeed occupied it and turned it into some kind of hidden base, then they hold a significant high ground advantage and would spot one of our own agents approaching on foot from miles away."

She smiled at him with a mixture of wryness and oblique frustration. "That's where we're hoping you can help us out."

[Deleted]

So MECH was more enigmatic than he first realized. Hmm. Well, that was mildly disconcerting. Mirage was no stranger to invading hostile environments, and the thought of this MECH facility intimidated him no more than that of any other base he had infiltrated over the years, but he disliked the thought of so many unknown variables, and their potential for making things all the more difficult for him. It was one thing to have a lack of knowledge because of a lack of exposure to one’s enemies. It was another entirely to have a lack of knowledge because said enemies were remarkably competent and knew how to cover their tracks. Unfortunately, it seemed MECH was both.

Mirage took a half-step closer to the monitors, his optics glancing from image to image as he attempted to construct a mental layout of the ghost town, and commit it to memory. He disliked having to check maps and blueprints and the like whilst on missions, if only because distractions were right next to unknown variables on the great long list of things that made his job more dangerous and therefore more difficult. He appreciated challenges, and in fact he rather enjoyed the thrill of a job-well done, but there was a limit to how life-threatening a task could be before it became more daunting than exciting. With any luck, that limit would not be exceeded by the task they had in mind for him.

He nodded absently as Arcee spoke and explained the details of the suspicious activities taking place on the mountain near the once-upon-a-time town of Ruby hill. From what little he knew of MECH, the location seemed like one they would likely frequent, though only time and a bit of investigating would tell if they were actually operating in the area. Which is where he came in.

“If it is a ghost town that needs infiltrating,” Mirage began, as he glanced away from the monitors at last and turned to favor Arcee with a faint, wry smile. “--then you have come to the right mech. My skills are uniquely suited to this sort of work after all, so please. Consider me at your service.”

[Deleted]

Though Arcee remained sitting upright, her shoulders back and her optics clear, a little of the tension visibly left her frame at that. She nodded, and flashed him a look of gratitude.

"Thank you, Mirage," she said.

The moment passed in the pulse of a spark; at once she was brisk and ready again. She faced the monitors, her hands already lifted back to the keyboard. "I'll open a ground bridge for you in just a minute. It should open less than a mile to the south, leaving you with a bit of a gentle climb up the hillside to reach the ghost town. Nothing strenuous, but enough distance that the terrain should cover the distinct light show the bridge typically lets off. How you approach the town to maintain your cover we'll leave to your discretion."

She tapped the screen, and one of the blurry photos zoomed it. It revealed a rickety mine entrance into the side of the hill, boarded and worn.

"All we need is to know whether or not MECH occupies the area, and if they indeed have established a major base there," she said. Her gaze flitted over the monitors. "If you can map out where its entrances and exits are within the town - helipads, runways, anything of the sort - that would be of great help to us if a time comes when we need to launch a rescue mission. Which leads me to my second point..."

Arcee swivelled to face him. Her expression was grave.

"We have reason to believe that Air Raid has been captured by MECH," she said. "If you see any sign of him - or of any other Cybertronian prisoners - please, record all evidence and let us know."

[Deleted]

Mirage dipped his head in acknowledgement of Arcee’s thanks, though the gesture was likely lost on her as she turned to dive straight into work at the monitors. Not that it mattered whether she saw it or not, really. He realized there were more pressing matters to attend to than acknowledging a display of courtesy (though some small part of him very deep down at his roots balked at the idea of courtesy not being top priority. He very politely told that little voice to shut up, as it was being ridiculous and its input was not wanted nor required.)

He watched the monitors closely as Arcee described his objective, and outlined what he was to do upon exiting the groundbridge. The hill would be an easy climb, and in the dark he would have little difficulty blending seamlessly into the scenery. It seemed to be a rather simple task-- at least until Arcee spoke once more, and regarded him with a somber look as she revealed where the urgency of his mission truly stemmed. Then all at once the heavy weight of the situation settled upon his shoulders, and his supposedly routine scouting mission seemed all the more urgent.

Until now, Mech had only transgressed against Deceptcions. Now, they had possibly extended their reach to the Autobots as well. Mirage’s optics constricted slightly, gold oval rings narrowing into slits as his posture went rigid, still. Oh, but Mirage did not tolerate slights against himself and those he considered his very well. No, he did not tolerate them very well at all. If MECH had indeed been conducting business in the ghost town, then he was going to take great pleasure in mapping out every detail of their operation which would be conducive to planning ways to tear it apart.

“I assure you.” He said, in a surprisingly calm voice. “I shall do my utmost.” As he spoke his mouth curved ever so slightly into a smile was entirely perfunctory, and a little too sharp at the edges. "You have my word, if one of our own is being held captive, I will find them."

[Deleted]

Arcee nodded. Despite her answering smile a tightness pulled at the corners of her mouth, while a crumb of frustration gleamed in her optics. Evidently she felt as he did - but knew that where Mirage was going she could not follow, not without alerting the enemy to their presence.

"Thank you, Mirage," she said. Her lips twitched, and she wryly added, "It's a hell of a way to get started here, I know. Jumping in with both feet, so to speak."

She rose from her seat at the monitor and vaulted down to the controls of the ground bridge, landing easily. A throw of the switch brought the portal humming to life. It swirled with light and energy, telescoping outwards to link with a destination yet unseen.

Only when the connection was established did Arcee turn back to the spy.

"I'll be here on radio duty if you need to communicate anything back to base," she said. "We don't know yet if MECH has breached any of our usual channels, but I can provide limited intel over a closed frequency if you need it in a pinch. Otherwise, you're entirely on your own."

"Good luck," rumbled Optimus. He had remained silent through the briefing, allowing his officers to speak without interruption. Now he regarded Mirage with steady optics, a tall presence melding quietly into the shadows of the control room.

The ground bridge whirled, open and ready.

And on the other side of it...

Clouds scudded across the moon, which shed a cold and silent light.

The bridge opened at the base of a rolling hillside, broad and open and speckled with patches of tall, scratchy brush, gnarled trees, and loose dirt. It climbed to the north, where it rose steeply towards the peak. Already a handful of structures were visible on the slope - scattered houses, with rusted metal roofs, log walls chinked with clay and wood ash, and dark, broken windows. An old gravel road wound up the hill as well, scuffed with fresh tire tracks.

The sound of running water in the darkness trickled nearby. A creek perhaps, flowing downwards into the plains. The trees were thicker in that direction, hiding it from sight.

[Deleted]

For the second time, Mirage found himself dipping his head in acknowledgement of a word of gratitude, only for its recipient to turn and leave before it could be seen. He supposed it did not really matter whether it was witnessed or not---it was the principle of the thing, to maintain his manners even when he and Primus were the only ones aware of his curtesy that truly mattered in the end. Again, not that small displays of propriety were of the utmost importance at the moment (no matter what the blasted little voice buried deep down in the back of his mind claimed otherwise.)

Instead of following after Arcee and vaulting down to the ground bridge as she had, Mirage simply walked off of the platform at a leisurely pace, as he had the time to do so while Arcee set the bridge’s coordinates. He watched with something vaguely approaching interest as the technological marvel before him whirred into life, its light illuminating the room as it flickered and swirled in seemingly aimless patterns, before looking back to Arcee as she spoke. He was not terribly off-put to hear he would have limited radio-contact; more often than not, that was the case whenever he ventured into unknown territory. He understood the necessity of it full well; one could make full use of their communication channels and risk detection, or one could remain silent and avoid sending signals which could compromise their mission. It wasn’t a terribly difficult decision to make, really. As far as Mirage was concerned, if one could not think on one’s feet and solve whatever unforeseen obstacle came between them and their goal without seeking outside assistance, then they really oughtn’t be his line of work. If one was not fully prepared to complete their task no matter the difficulties in their way, then they were not fit for the ask. It was as simple as that.

“You have my thanks, Arcee. I shall keep that in mind.” ...No he wouldn’t. He had no intention of contacting the base until he had completed his mission and needed to be bridged back to base.

He nodded in both acknowledgement and farwell to both Optimus and Arcee in the order they addressed him, first to the latter then to the former. “I shall return before daybreak.” He promised, before turning on his heel and walking towards the bridge.

Once inside the tunnel of energy and light, there was a bright flash, and he disappeared from sight---and out of sight he stayed, even when the bridge deposited him miles away from the base, at the base of a hillside. He had activated his cloak shortly before walking through the bridge, so that by the time he arrived at his destination he would be fully concealed from sight. He attuned his senses to the area around him, his spatial and proximity sensors mapping out the objects nearest to him, noting what moved and what did not, as his thermal detectors searched for any traces of life. After a few moments, he confirmed there were no heat signatures in his immediate area which could belong to anything larger than a rodent, and so he dropped his cloak at last, confident there was no one around to see him as he returned to visibility, and his own sight returned to him. Once he could see once more, he glanced around, taking a more careful and thorough examination of the area.

There were a few ramshackle buildings scattered along the slope, long abandoned and left to decay. Shrubbery and dotted the dry, crumbling earth, adding a splash of color to the otherwise dull and desaturated landscape. Mirage could see why the place was a ghost town. It was far out in the middle of nowhere in a dry, dreary landscape which left much to be desired. The place would not call many visitors to itself, looking the way it did and being located where it was---it was a small wonder why the place might have attracted MECH. It suited their purposes well.

After examining the area for a few moments more, Mirage mapped out a path to the old gravel road leading up into the mountain, and set himself upon it. He weaved carefully between the brush and trees, paying close mind to where he took his steps, as to make as little noise as possible as he moved. Likewise, he made a point to leave the earth beneath his feet looking as undisturbed as possible, stepping lightly and avoiding patches of particularly loose or dusty ground which would leave rather noticeable footprints. He did not reactivate his cloak until he set upon the gravel road, but even then he left his optics semi-transparent, both so he could still retain a degree of vision. He did not know what if anything awaited him past the top of the hill, but until he knew he was not going to risk being visible, save for the faint, muted glow of his optics.

[Deleted]

The moon sailed free of a bank of clouds, illuminating the road ahead of him. With his cloak activated Mirage did not cast a tell-tale shadow as he walked along it. That was good - tire tracks were embedded in the soft gravel. Some of them looked fresh.

Beneath his feet the terrain climbed upwards. The night was quiet, save for the trill of insects in the scrub. Few human sounds could be heard; a car droned somewhere far in the distance. Without electrical lights to pollute it the night sky was a dark velvet blanket strewn with glittering stars. The warm air was crisp, the breeze carried with it the scent of sage brush and mildew - from the rotting buildings, most likely.

As he drew near the top of the hill the ghost town itself began to come into view. Dilapidated old houses stood to either side of the road, slat-boarded and gloomily water-stained. Some of the older structures had wearily collapsed into themselves with age, leaving behind only crumbled stone foundations filled with decaying timbres. Most of the windows were broken, their glass crushed into powder underfoot. Wild-grass poked up through open doorways and buckled floors.

Scattered in the grass were a few cigarette butts, cold but fresh.

Some of the buildings in the town were recognisable - an old white schoolhouse, a buckled warehouse with an overgrown yard full rusted scrap. Further up the hill was a water tower, perched upon a skeletal metal scaffold. Beneath it sat a mining office, half-buried in weeds. Power lines criss-crossed the street, their old wires sagging.

They hummed, faintly.

At the north end of the town the power lines gathered together and climbed up the rest of the hill, in darkness. The very peak of the hill stood out starkly against the night sky. It was faintly haloed in light.

Not a natural light.

[Deleted]

Mirage was not the superstitious sort; he did not believe in luck, or omens, or anything of the sort. However, as the moon aligned itself in his favor, escaping its bed of clouds to illuminate his path, he could not help but feel that things were going to go his way tonight. It was difficult enough to see more than a few feet in front of him with his optics half-cloaked without the clouds blocking out his only source of illumination; it was only by the light the moon so graciously supplied that he was able to make out how fresh the various tire-tracks along the gravel road where.

Some were more recent than others, but from what he could gather the freshest set had been made sometime within the past week or so, at the very least. He couldn’t tell the exact day--he was no expert tracker by any stretch of the definition, but the edges of the tire-prints were still sharp, and their shape held well. The imprints had yet to be worn away by time and the elements, to say nothing of whatever creatures resided in this place. Mirage couldn’t imagine why any animal would chose to call this place their home, but then, organic creatures were strange little things (at least by his measure.)

As he traveled beside the gravel road (taking care not to disturb the tracks or leave any of his own) he kept his sensors attuned to the area around him. His thermal detectors found no heat-signatures which would belie a present but disguised organic hiding somewhere amongst the brush, or in one of the abandoned buildings, for which he was thankful. He would hate to be discovered before finding out any useful information, and he wasn’t sure what the Prime’s standing was on eliminating organic threats that might compromise his mission. He never thought he would think such a thing, but organics proved to be more detrimental than Decepticons in that respect. At least with the Decepticons, he could stealthily rid himself of the obstacles in his path before they could alert others to his presence. With humans, even MECH soldiers, on the other hand….well, he had the feeling Optimus and Agent Fowler and his government would all frown upon him using lethal means to accomplish his goals.

Even if MECH had brought the problem onto themselves by forcing his hand by placing him in the position where he was required to spy upon them in the first place.

As Mirage made his way through the town, he looked for any other signs that the town had been recently occupied. Save for the tracks in the gravel road, and the scattered cigarette butts lying in the dirt, he found nothing. At least, not until he walked beneath the sagging, criss-crossing power lines and heard their gentle humming. Smiling, he followed the power lines towards the northern edge of the town, confident that they would lead him where he needed to go.

He was correct in his assumption. The power lines lead him towards a steep hill, the top of which was haloed in light. He knew then that he had found what he was looking for--unless some other organization had set up shop over the hill in the middle of nowhere for Primus knows what reason, MECH was undoubtedly operating within the area. With this thought in mind mirage attuned his sensors once again, his proximity and thermal detectors increasing their range to make up for his lack of vision as he fully cloaked his optics and began climbing his way up the hill. He was close now. Too close to risk someone taking notice of the faint glow of his optics floating in the darkness.

[Deleted]

As Mirage climbed the hill the sounds of the night began to fade - the sleepy chirp of insects died away, while the soft rustle of tiny creatures winnowing through the grass stilled. The hum of the power lines overhead grew louder, a steady buzz that followed the lines as they ascended the slope. The air prickled with electricity.

Slowly, the light grew brighter. Near the top of the hill it was bright enough to cast pollution into the night sky and white out the faintest stars. Moths and gnats danced above the weeds, drawn by the radiance.

When Mirage was less than one hundred feet below the peak he would spot his first sign of human inhabitance. To his left a narrow dirt path branched off through the grass and brush and wandered to an old wood-frame doorway into the hillside, butted up against a wall of loosely stacked rock. A fringe of grass and weeds grew ragged on top of the wall. The entrance to an old mine shaft most likely - except that the rotted old door had been replaced. While it was not a steel door, the woodwork was fresh and green, the latches made of steel that had hardly begun to rust.

A man stood guard at the door.

He was quiet and still, save for a subtle shift of his weight from foot to foot. He wore dark grey combat armour and carried an assault rifle close to his chest. A heavy pair of goggles sat over his eyes as he swept his gaze down over the hill -

- and straight at Mirage.

[Deleted]

Though the ability seemed glamorous to most, Mirage knew all too well that invisibility could be as much of a hindrance as it was an asset, in the wrong circumstances. It was all well and good when he was traveling through an area with which he was already familiar, as his concentration would not have to be torn between watching his step and trying to figure out where to go whilst blind, all while looking out for any pesky guards which might get in his way.

Unfortunately, he did not have that luxury. He had no maps or blueprints to work off of, and so he was going into the area completely blind--literally and metaphorically. With no sight or maps to guide him, he had to feel his way towards the hill with a combination of proximity and thermal sensors. The former allowed him to make out the location of the objects surrounding him so that he would not misstep, while the latter allowed him to scan the immediate area for life-signs. Neither fully made up for his lack of sight, but they certainly helped a good deal. Without them, he wouldn’t have been able to travel without stumbling over something, getting lost, or walking head first into the very people he was trying to avoid being detected by, which, needless to say, defeated the entire purpose of sneaking about whilst invisible.

It was only because of those sensors that Mirage noticed the figure standing a fair distance away from him, standing guard and on the lookout for trespassers--or in this case, him. The little organic glowed vivid orange on Mirage’s HUD, his body-heat alerting his presence to the spy just as he prepared to take another step towards the hill. He froze mid-step as the man turned to look at him, or rather, at the seemingly empty space he occupied. Slowly, he set his foot down, taking care not to make a sound, lest he alert the guard to his presence.

Well. Things just got interesting.

The guard had to go, one way or another, and Mirage did not particularly feel like receiving a lecture from Prime or Fowler for the use of lethal force, so simply killing the little organic pest was not an option. Frowning thoughtfully, Mirage considered his options for a brief moment before deciding to play a little mind-game with the man. Ever-so-cautiously he knelt down, plucked a shallow handful of stones from the gravel road, and concentrated on projecting an image a few yards away from himself, at the base of the hill. It was a simple illusion, a black, human silhouette darting behind the brush as quick as a blink. He tossed the stones the moment he cast the illusion, making sure to mask their travel as they glided over the ground then crashed into the brush. With any luck, the muted sound of rustling leaves, accompanied by the glimpse of a human figure disappearing into the darkness, would prompt the man to investigate.

Go on, Mirage thought, Stray from your post like a good little fool.

[Deleted]

The guard responded immediately. And in an instant he validated Mirage's decision that killing him was not a good idea.

He tensed, his rifle lifting. Without pause he reached up to grip a radio mounted on the shoulder of his combat vest and depressed the transmit switch.

"Base, this is South Gate," he said. "Checking in early, got suspicious activity here on the hill, possible contact. Stand by."

The answer was fuzzy, but perfectly audible. "Roger, South Gate. Standing by."

The guard let go of his radio and, with his rifle warily raised, began to pad off in the direction that Mirage's illusion had vanished. He walked low, sure-footed in the dark, his boots soundless in the dirt and dry grass. Before long he had melted into the night. Only his heat signature would register to the Autobot, slowly shrinking as he prowled into the brush.

With the guard removed from his post the hill was quiet and empty again, limned in light at the peak.