Ep 2 -- Dam Tourists (Closed)

[Deleted]

Max ducked into the passenger seat.

He did so awkwardly, as if he did not ride in cars very often. When he sat down he gingerly stretched out one leg at a time to rest his boots on the floor mat. He looked around the inside of the cab warily.

"Not a glove box, no," he said. "But there are storage spaces. They're secure."

He shut the door with a thud and then uncomfortably held his hands in this air, as if unsure of a safe place to rest them.

"I won't lie to you," he said. "This is a little strange. What can I touch that won't break if I rest my arms on it? You're a lot less reinforced inside your hull than I am."

He glanced into the backseat. "And… are those cans?"

[Dart]

The bucket seat held Max just fine. Underneath him the heavy grey fabric of the interior was heavy-knit and designed for wear and tear.

Strangely enough, her vehicle mode was surprisingly solid and sturdy. The interior was streamlined and simple, with a dashboard that resembled a plane or a military vehicle more than a modern car. No electronic fancy bells and whistles. No billions of buttons controlling everything from the turn of a mirror to a millimeter of seat position.

The only thing that looked like it might have been an aftermarket part in the car was her stereo; but even that wasn't glowing blue and fancy. An old tape player, with a worn tape sticking halfway out of it. Most of the words had faded, except for a few letters that spelled Dura- The deck had a bunch of tiny slide levers on it, and a scan-seek button.

Dart looked over at him. The young woman had settled back into her seat, hands wrapped exactly at ten and two now on the sleek black steering wheel. She nodded thoughtfully. Of course tanks had to have storage spaces. They carried crewmembers. A scan would pick that up, it must. Also anything in there was certainly secure.

However, she realized something. He'd ridden in a some sort transport at some time. He knew enough to not hit his head on the roof, how to carefully stretch each leg so he didn't smack anything. He was being cautious and wary, but it didn't feel like he was worried about being here in the enclosed space, but as if--- ohhhhh.

The avatar ducked her head, blue eyes peering out from under her bangs. You know, now that he mentioned it.... wow. It was either like a really bad movie moment starring Leonardo DiCaprio, or one of those strange Thanksgiving dishes that involved stuffing birds inside of each other.

Let's go with the former, okay Dart? Sure. This is not even on the same level of weird as Turduckens.

"It's okay, I won't lie either, sir." A tiny sloping smile touched on her lips before she straightened her shoulders. "It was a lot less strange before I really thought too much about it too."

"Oh. Oh gosh. Nothing will break, honest," she reassured him quickly, lifting her hand. Dart didn't think it would anyway, she'd carried passengers before. It had been a while though. Hopefully nothing had come loose. She understood; he'd probably really never had to look or think about the inside of a car, the same way she never would rather be confused by the interior of the tank, or a plane. "If it's comfortable, you can rest on that arm rest there."

Dart motioned to it. "That's designed for that. Or the console in the middle. I can roll down the window if you want. I like leaning my arm- er, the avatar's arm up on the frame. Humans drive like that all the time."

A quick glance to the back seat. "Yeah. Cans. They have a bottle deposit in Oregon. Five cents a can or a bottle. You bring them back in and they cash you out. I can sniff out a lot of cans people throw out in the backcountry."

"It takes money to do a lot of things. I mean, human money..."

A chuckle. "I have no idea if we even have money," she admitted quietly with a shake of her head, even as she reached a hand back for her seatbelt to pull it over her shoulder.

[Deleted]

Satisfied that there was nothing inside he could damage, Max laid his arm on the rest and settled back into the seat. The fabric even creaked under the weight of his avatar. He still looked out of place, something not helped by his height, but no longer uncomfortable.

"Yes," he said absently. "Well, no. Not anymore. Cans. Huh."

Max looked around himself. It was clear that cars were foreign to him. He touched the crank for the window, then thought better of it and left it alone. He lifted one foot to frown at the floor mat. The dash caught his eye next, and he leaned forward slightly to study it.

"This looks - a lot different from the only other car I've been in," he said. "Not as - what's the word I'm looking for. Digital. And what the hell is that?"

He pointed at the tape deck.

[Dart]

"What is--?" Dart echoed with some surprise, following his fingerpoint. It took her a moment; her avatar's brows drew together, puzzled. She wrinkled her nose; a soft huff came from the car's vents, since her first behavior when confronted with confusion was to sniff. "That? Oh, that's a stereo."

A pause as she glanced down at the tape cassette and worn tape, contemplating it for a second.

"Honest."

The floor mat was grey, but unlike the outside of the courier, it showed little scuff or wear. There were old pine needles scattered along the edges and a dried up Vine Maple leaf, the delicate edges crisp and lacy.

So money had once existed on Cybertron. Okay, yes, now she remembered she'd heard the term credits a few times in passing. However, that was also a thing on Earth. Maybe it was a universal word, or a word that translated like that into English.

At his swift, cautious touch at the window crank, the courier's avatar paused. Then the car carefully cranked the little lever and rolled down the window for him, even as her avatar finished buckling her seatbelt with a click. She straightened up.

The fact that he'd ridden least one other car - okay, she hadn't expected that. It made sense though, he'd settled in all right now. However, she totally had a moment where she almost had to laugh. Even a guy who'd been in only one other car was commenting on the differences.

"Different," she mused, and then nodded. "This car is nearly thirty years old now. Which I guess isn't much for us, but no, no digital stuff- well okay, maybe on TV, sure, but it wasn't real. Humans have changed so much technology-wise in a short time."

Fascination lifted the courier's voice. "Like. Everything. Computers were just starting to be made when this vehicle was was new. Cell phones- no one had them, right, because they were these huge brick things, and now just about every human does in their pocket. No internet, really, and--"

Dart reached out and tapped the faceplate of the stereo with a wry grin. "Tapes. Music was mostly recorded on cassette tapes, not CD's or MP3 files. They're mostly hard to find now."

A quick lift of the courier's chin as she focused on the terrain in front of them. There was a soft click from her ignition switch as it moved with no key, and then the long-hooded sports car rumbled to life. Lifters rattled; the courier's engine ran rough and out of tune for a few moments as it revved, rattling a bit of the dashboard and the occupants within before she settled back to an idle.

"Speaking of hard to find..."

The girl leaned slightly forward in her seat, teeth chewing slightly at her lip in concentration. The Trans-Am's headlights popped up slightly and then half-shuttered as the car shifted in the dirt and then eased forward. Rear tires spat up a bit of gravel and sand before she found traction and then the low-slung vehicle eased forward.

"I think this part is the part where we're both going to wish I found some of your off road abilities," she said with a sheepish smile. "I run. Dun drive this terrain. I might really need some advice along the way, sir."

[Deleted]

Max blinked.

"Advice about - oh." He leaned back into the seat and looked at the terrain ahead. "I don't think there's much I can help you with. I'm no driver. All of this is-"

He waved vaguely at the wheel and dash. "Unfamiliar to me. You do seem to have low clearance with this alternate mode, however. The best advice I can give is to drive slow. And since you don't have tracks, to avoid anything bigger than your headlights."

He said it with a touch of dry humour.

As the interior rumbled with the vibration of the car's engine, Max ran one hand over his unshaven jaw. A thought struck him, and he reached back for the seatbelt.

"So why did you choose to scan a vehicle that is thirty years old?" he said. "I'm not criticising your choice. It just seems off, given how much time you seem to spend outdoors."

[Dart]

The Trans-Am moved forward, slow and cautious. The long sloping nose pointed down the ridge as the vehicle began to pick her way downward at a slow, steady pace. A rock scraped up under the wheelwell and the courier rocked carefully to one side to avoid the worst of it. Red dust drifted behind them, but quickly settled back. The ground was so dry that their trail would be hard to notice.

Her motion would perhaps bump Max gently against the seat but that was all it did. She even straightened out immediately without any jarring, mindful of her passenger.

At the mech's advice, the femme's nose crinkled slightly with her lopsided grin. The tangled strands of her ponytail flicked along her neck. A loose thread dangled off the worn sleeve of her t-shirt as she kept one foot over one of the three pedals; toe nearly brushing them. However they depressed all on their own, she never touched them.

"Got it. Avoid anything bigger than my headlights," she agreed with a soft laugh. "Drive slow. Good advice, will do..."

"Scan a- oh. No," she admitted. "No. It didn't work like it's supposed to. Couldn't get the problem resolved, so... my commander at the time gave up, and just- well, hard-loaded one set of schematics in. I think. I'm not sure why that worked okay, but it did. I- I honestly don't understand how these things go."

She paused and lifted a hand off the wheel to brush her bangs back from her eyes. It didn't last long, they just flopped right back into place. "Aw, no. I promise, I know you're not criticizing, sir. Best guess? Well mine, anyway? I think the thought on it was er -four tires, drives, looks more like a plane, so it must be a good car - now done."

A little smile. "But it's okay. I've grown to appreciate it for what it can do amazingly. It's solid. It's fast off the line. Neat history, too. Old cars were built to hold up. Driving in cities, where I can't run, it's perfect. No one really notices it. I never understood why so many folks have brand new specialized super sports cars as alt modes sometimes, you know? Seriously. Just be a Toyota Corolla. No one would look twice."

"So yeah, it is not what I might have picked myself originally. But then I realize maybe that's exactly why I've come to love it."

A soft puff of air escaped her vents, like a rueful chuckle. "Really though, I don't spend too much time in my vehicle mode though. Good thing I love the outdoors, yeah."

Dart glanced over at him. "You spend more time in your main mode too, though, right?"

[Deleted]

The grunt from Max suggested that he shared her sentiments on flashy sports cars.

"Yeah, usually," he said. "It's easier to fight and get around in. Much faster too. Being a tank is useful when mechanized heavy infantry is required. Like when you need to fire a very destructive penetrator round very rapidly over very great distances, while shrugging off enemy return fire. But it's not of much use outside of that. And it's virtually useless as a disguise outside of limited wartime situations, or for travelling."

It was perhaps the most the tank had ever said at once.

"So, like you said: I appreciate it for what it can do. Not everyone can be a jet or a car. I'm restricted to certain alt-modes due to my size, armament, and armour class. This was the best one I could get. It does the job."

Max shrugged. As the Trans-Am rolled forward he lifted one hand and braced it against the roof. His boots spread against the floor mats to hold him in place as the courier thumped across the rough ground. He glanced over at her avatar.

"So, why go for a car in the first place?" he said. "Most Decepticons I've - met - have all been fliers."

[Dart]

The courier was silent, listening to the mech speak. He normally kept his comments short, to the point. Not all the time; sometimes there was that bit to him that found something comfortable and secure to talk about. When he was like that, it was fascinating to her, a look into an entirely different worldview and function than her own.

It made sense. A tank was built to get into bad places over rough terrain, and to be support as well as a frontliner.

The young woman looked over him. At first she was surprised he'd even brought up the Decepticons - he'd been so, so careful never to do that. But... something else struck her too, because she had reason to be aware, she had reason to focus on it.

The car carefully skirted a rock and then jounced a bit over some rough ground. Her undercarriage scraped; and the courier's avatar snorted and tossed her head slightly in a mirrored attempting to shake off whatever rock had caught her unawares. Across the trunk of the car, the spoiler twitched and adjusted instantly like no real car did; a counterbalance for her motion.

"It makes sense," she said as the Trans-Am settled back and found smoother ground. The vehicle pushed forward; all of the power came from the rear wheels, like her robot mode did from the leg. Once in a while they would slip; but all she did was ease a bit off the throttle and straighten herself out. "I mean, restrictive, but also incredibly useful for a lot of situations no one else would be."

"Aw, I can't even think of a car that big," she mused. "Trucks maybe, but not armored. Wait, maybe a Bushmaster, or an APV. They were out in Australia. I remember those, they were huge, but still not as big or as armored. Planes, yah. There's some big planes..."

At his last question though, their gazes met for a fraction of a second. A flash of utter embarrassment was raw and obvious, ducking her chin. The hood of the the sports car dipped down low, practically slinking across the hardpacked dry terrain for a moment.

Decepticons did fly. They all flew. A mech like Maximus had faced them often, no doubt. Even the lowest Vehicon had no problem on the Nemesis. They were often prideful about it; this ship, we loft it over the Autobots. They are nothing to us, we are superior in the air. She'd known more than a few troops who once awakened, the first thing they wished for were wings.

There were a few who were cars. Those who understood that it was easier to travel like that on this world, to blend in specifically on the ground in human culture. But most of them did not hide; they flaunted it with shining, modern curves and sleek systems. Also, they certainly didn't care when being called to the Nemesis. They would all be happy if the Autobots vanished tomorrow and they were brought up on board in victory, not thrashing like an idiot in uncontrolled panic.

"Don't fly," Dart mumbled as she focused on the steering wheel. Instead of the sweeping wings of Pontiac's Firebird in the center, there was another sigil. The stern lines seemed to judge her. Angles of disdain.

"Terrified of it, sir," she admitted.

[Deleted]

Max nodded.

"I've met a lot of Autobots who aren't crazy about it either," he said. "Even drop troops that needed to get airborne just to get to their lines. Maybe it's not that uncommon among bots with ground modes. I haven't exactly spoken to many ground-based Decepticons, so I couldn't tell you."

He absently watched the desert ease past his window as he spoke, with no indication that he thought her fear was a strange one. At the jolt he simply pressed his hand firmly against the ceiling to steady himself. When a shadow passed over the ground he leaned against the window and craned his head to look up at the hawk circling overhead.

"Still, that's gotta be tough, living aboard the Nemesis," he said. "To my knowledge the Decepticons don't land that thing. Ever. They must need to fly it up to an altitude of sixty thousand feet or higher just to avoid the worst of the weather systems. That can't be very pleasant if you don't like flying."

[Dart]

Against the grey fabric of the chair, the courier relaxed slightly. Her shoulders tipped back, her body language which had been tight and unsure settled gently back. The car's vents puffed once, as if she suddenly been able to draw in air again. No yelling. No derision. That was nice, to hear just hear him talk quietly between them as about there being other Cybertronians who also couldn't do it, didn't do it.

"That's good to know," she said, and there was a grateful touch to her words that thickened her accent slightly.

"There aren't many," she agreed, her fingers uncurling from their hard grip around the wheel. "Ground based, I mean. More in Australia, but that might be because of terrain. Which is kind of baffling to me, it's as varied there as it is here in the States."

She shifted her weight and stretched her arm out on her window-sill. The breeze coming through the window was warm. The car shifted to avoid some brush, sliding easily past a bit of cactus. Her avatar's ponytail flickered; the dishwater blond paler in sun-faded streaks.

The hawk drifted over, a dark rush of feathers against the sharp blue sky. As he moved; she instantly responded, keyed into the stretch of plaid across his avatar's shoulders. Something's there, is it dangerous? Her mirror tilted, and she admired the bird and settled again. They made it look so effortless.

Fliers did. She could appreciate the skill it took to fly, the power. The way they had no fear of losing contact with the ground.

"I don't," the courier explained after a moment. "I mean I don't live there. Never have. I'm Earth stationed and have been since I came back on line." Probably a good thing, too. Passing through, she could do, but spending a night there... even the thought made her queasy.

"You okay with flying?" she wondered.

[Deleted]

Max settled back into his seat.

"Flying?" he said.

Looking relaxed, he shrugged again. "Yeah. It's never bothered me. Wouldn't go out of my way to put in a request for an aerial alternate mode, but I don't mind it. I had to do a lot of it while I was on the front lines. Rapid repositioning, shuttle trips to report back to field outposts, that sort of thing. You got used to it."

He gazed out the front windshield, at the dust that blew over the hood. Then he glanced over at the courier.

"You remain stationed ground-side?" he said. "That sounds like an all right arrangement. Seems like you'd have more freedom to get out and patrol than if you were on the ship. That must be why I keep running into you while I'm out."

There was a trace of humour in his gruff voice. "Given this vehicle mode and how well it blends in, you must be sent out often. I've seen the ground Vehicons. It's hard to miss them. Identical black and purple sports cars. Very discreet."

[Dart]

"Didn't- weren't there bridges? Or was it like- like in space?" she asked. "Like from one planet to another?"

Dart cocked her head. "Or was Cybertron just that big? Bigger than Earth?"

Then she nodded solemnly. "Mmm-hmm. Discreet. Much discreet. Like oh, Formula One racing cars, expensive new sports cars, concept cars, and Lamborghinis."

Which was true. Over the years Dart had found herself flinching away from those vehicles whenever they appeared on the road. Most of the time they were driven by middle aged men out for an afternoon, she'd come to find.

However, until she saw them, until there was a soft whiff of human scent that drifted from the car as they passed by.... there was always that moment where the courier desperately searched for a sigil and calculated an escape route if need be.

The avatar held onto her straight face. She really tried her best. However, the car gave her away. The left headlight squinched slightly, a vehicular wink. Yes, true, the Vehicons were discreet as a gold brick wrapped in lemon. She wasn't even going to think about Lord Megatron's alt mode. Then again really, who was going to nit-pick that he wasn't really in disguise.

The Trans-Am had picked up speed in a flat area; she still didn't go fast, but it was a good steady clip, eating up the miles. Her intakes whuffled; tested, looking for anything vehicular on the wind that would be out of place in this remote landscape - the Wash was the only thing out here with consistent traffic.

"Yeah," she replied. "It's nice. I can sometimes take a little detour, if I'm careful. I like patrolling for the most part. It's quiet and I get to know all the neatest places. I learn so much about the world."

"Aw, I think it's more because I can cover a good amount of distance on my feet," she admitted. "The only way you're getting around a lot of places on Earth at speed is to fly over it or trot through it."

"But yes, probably why we do keep running into each other a bit, not many folks can travel well on ground in the backcountry, not like you or me. Well, minus that first time, back in the Canyon. That was totally a Vehicon moment of delegation."

[Deleted]

Max grunted.

"Don't remind me," he said.

But then he paused. His brow creased as he gazed at the desert ahead. He rubbed one hand over his unshaven jaw, and his weathered face relaxed into an expression that was a little less irritated. After a moment he twisted in the seat to face her.

"No," he said. "You know what? I might as well admit it: while that whole experience isn't exactly going to go down as one of my finest moments, it wasn't that bad."

He squinted at the windshield. Each word was spoken with slow deliberation. "It put me into the medbay for a couple days, but being out on the river itself - it was different. I don't think I'd go out of my way to get myself ambushed by Vehicons again just to get thrown back into that sort of a situation, but all things considered - it was okay. It wasn't the worst thing to happen to me. And - you handled things well. It was good you were there."

Max lapsed into another moment of contemplative silence. Then:

"Never thought I'd hear myself saying that to a Decepticon. But, there you go."

[Dart]

Dust made soft red and grey patterns on the slope of the windshield ahead of him. Kicked up by her tires, it drifted in rippling bands that echoed the scope of the hills around them. In the distance, one large plateau was brilliant in the morning sun, bright iron red and harvest gold stripes shot through the sandstone.

His gesture at that moment was incredibly both Cybertronian and human at the same time. A soft rub against his jaw in thought; it worked on the mech, and his avatar. The soft, worn grey plaid of his shirt caught the breeze; so hard to remember it wasn't real, except there was no scent.

When he twisted in the seat to face her, there was a brief moment where Dart hesitated. The young woman's avatar peered through her bangs at Max. The Trans-Am slowed down a bit as if her focus was entirely on Maximus for a second, not on the stretch of land in front of them. The low grumble of the big car's powerful engine drifted off a bit, as if the courier had cut a power to the accelerator.

"Oh gosh..." she murmured. Then she started to say something else, but got stuck for a second, as if she was trying to figure out her words, all the things she wanted to say. Maximus was not one to give this sort of admission lightly or freely, or say something like that just because it was a feel good thing to say. Words like this, letting down his guard was rare, and he trusted her with it the same way he trusted her to send him strange places.

Dart trusted him with those places too. Trusted him with people.

What to say. How to say it. Her avatar lifted her hand off the wheel and brushed her fingers through her bangs, tucking them back behind her ear.

"Thank you."

Now it was her turn to pause.

"I'm glad I got sent," the courier said simply. "Glad it was you down there. Never thought I'd say that to a frontliner, does that help?"

A smile.

"I dunno," she said after a moment, settling back in her seat. Her voice came easy. "No, oh gosh no, don't go get ambushed again by Vehicons, ugh, heck no, no - that part was not the good part. But the humans. The raft. The Canyon itself. You talking about Cybertron, the monuments and stuff...

"There was so much that was amazing and neat. I mean, I think about it a lot and I think, wow we rafted down a river that very few beings do; human, us, someone from some planet mostly made of ocean with giant turtles or something even - and think about it in the grand scheme of the universe and-- you suddenly realize how amazing that is. One of those moments not many people get in their lives, and we got to have it."

"But next time, no, I'm putting my foot down, sorry. Absolutely no Vehicons."

She laughed and then her attention was caught by something outside. "Oh yay, there's the Wash... an actual road, hooray. That's good."

Looking out the front window -- well she was right. In the sense that the band of dry soil cut in front of them in the distance looked like it could possibly be a road. (Okay, more useful for Max's alt mode than hers, but still, hey it was a road.)

From here, they could see it wind and switchback up a hill. Dart's vehicle mode warily skirted the edge of a shallow cut in the land; they'd come across a few of them so far - sharp dips in the landscape that had tumbled rocks at the bottom.

"Just have to get across a couple of these run-off points. This will be the fun part where we both wish I was that Jeep."

[Deleted]

Max leaned forward to get a better look.

"Hm," he said.

Having said his piece about the Canyon and the ambush and their trip down the river, he gave no further comment upon it. It was as if the matter had been discussed to his satisfaction, then set aside. Instead he focused his attention on the road ahead. Or rather, the lack of one. What looked more like a trail lay ahead of them. It was not hard to see that it would be a bumpy ride.

Max settled back again.

"Probably a good thing I can't feel a lot of discomfort as an avatar," he said. "That looks pretty uneven. I'm surprised there's even a road out here. I would have thought the terrain unsuitable for one. This is pretty rough countryside. I'm sure even a Jeep would have its difficulties."

He paused.

"Although… will you be able to drive over this without damaging yourself? Don't get injured on my account. I can walk, if needed."