Post by Deleted on Apr 11, 2016 21:19:48 GMT -5
{Week 2, Day 7}
There it was, hanging against the black backdrop of space, framed by the stars of an unfamiliar galaxy. She had been able to see it for quite some time now. It was so utterly different than Cybertron. Especially Cybertron as she knew it was now, dark and lifeless, torn apart by civil war. In contrast, this planet was completely and organically full of life. Blue optics shifted over the vis-screen as she took in the blues and greens of the planet’s surface. This Earth that Prime had called them to, it was already so strange to her. She briefly wondered if this world, too, would look like Cybertron when the war ran its course there. She could see no end to the conflict. Surely this planet was only their secondary battleground. It could not be where they would achieve peace. Too many long, violent vorns had passed for peace to be an achievable goal. But why bring the fight to this planet?
It did not truly matter. She was a soldier. She did not question orders, only followed them. Her digits tightened around the manual guidance controls as the planet loomed closer, the galaxy’s sun looming behind it. Soon, gravity would take hold and she would have to fight to keep the craft from crashing into anything important. She was close enough now that any bot with proper scanning tools could trace her signal, an Autobot beacon lighting up the dark sky. She could only wonder who would scan her first, allies or enemies.
Her ship passed into the upper layer of Earth’s atmosphere. The wings began to cut visible drag paths as gravity took hold, wrenching the craft towards the planet’s surface. Though her ship had been made for atmospheric entry, it had not been formatted specifically for Earth’s atmosphere, and the thought occurred to her that it might not hold up well in the entry. Not to mention, the low fuel warning had been flashing for quite some time. She was running on fumes. Her optics narrowed as she held firmly to the controls, refusing to allow nature to have its way. Warnings began to flash and beep, telling her of the overheating that would soon occur. She did not need the warnings, she could feel it. She could see the flames around the nose of her craft. But she knew that it would soon pass. She momentarily wished that she could gun the engine and push through faster, but she knew that would do more harm than good. It would waste the barely-there fuel she had, salvaged from the wrecked Decepticon ships she’d brought down in her escape, and should generate even more heat.
The alarms were abruptly silenced as the ship finally gave out, its engine dying as it ran out of fuel and, therefore, energy. The cockpit went dark. Xero gripped the controls tightly enough that they creaked. Either she was about to burn up, or she was going to pull through for a hell of a crash.
It was the latter that occurred. The fire around the edges of her craft disappeared as she entered the cold upper layers of Earth’s atmosphere. Then, she plummeted. The planet’s gravity wrenched her downward at a truly horrific speed, a speed that only grew as she fell. She vainly pulled up on the controls. Without power, she was left at the mercy of nature. There were no proximity alarms as she watched the surface fast approaching through the side viewport. It was nauseating.
Slag
Hopefully, it was the Autobots that had picked up her signal. She knew it was likely that she would need medical assistance after this one. And she probably wouldn’t hold up long if she was jumped by the enemy. Not when recovering from a crash of this magnitude. She quickly tried to think of a way to take the least amount of damage. The only thing that occurred to her was staying in her seat, strapped in.
This is going to hurt…
She burst through the clouds, trailing smoke and debris from what had broken off the ship upon entry. Her optics widened in surprise when she caught sight of what would be her crash site. Tall green, organic structures stretched out across the landscape, much like the towers back on Cybertron. Her craft was sent headlong into them, skidding off the bending and breaking giants. The ship flipped, jostling her hard. She gritted her denta and groaned as she attempted to keep a firm grip and avoid the danger of flailing limps. It flipped end over end a few more times before plowing into the forest of organic structures. Cracking and screeching sounded around the outside of the fighter as it tore through the dirt of the planet’s surface. It slowed as it slid, finally dragging to a stop, partially embedded in the soil.
Xero sat in the cockpit, slumpting as the craft halted. She had lost her grip and banged her arm hard enough against the side of the cockpit that her elbow joint’s pain receptors were already complaining. Her helm had been snapped sharply back, straining the hydraulics and cables in her neck and slamming the back of her helm into the seat. Her optics flickered as she groaned. The left remained dim as the other returned to normal. She groaned, straightening her neck with a wince. Her vision on the right side returned fully. The left remained blurred and unclear, flickering from time to time. She didn’t have the time to tend to it. She had to move. The crash site would soon attract attention. If it already hadn’t. Groggily, she unstrapped herself, struggling with motor control as her body recovered from the blunt trauma of the crash.