In the midst of war, a lone protogen sets out to survive rather than thrive, after his ship crashes on earth. Will he make it back to a home he never had?
Disclaimer: this is a fictional work. Correlation between real world events and this story's c...
He kicked a pebble down the slope and watched it tumble into the river bed below him. Why couldn't things just go right for once?!
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He settled back on the rock he was sitting on and glanced around distastefully at his position under the bridge. It felt claustrophobic, but at least he was hidden from the blistering sun. Venturing out into the daylight was not something he would be attempting in the desert again. How could he even keep going at this rate? Why should he fight the inevitable?
The plan to get his satchel back had fallen apart immediately. First, the area where he had left his things was barricaded when he arrived, with police crowding every inch of the scene. He had barely been able to get within walking distance before he was turned away by an officer with a no-question asked expression. He remembered peering over the officer's shoulder at the empty spot on the ground where his satchel had been. It was all over now.
He kicked another pebble down the rocky ravine. It was dusty... just like him. He fluffed his fur and shook the earth out of his coat. To any passerby this may have looked a bit ridiculous, unless the groundlings shook themselves out too? No, they wouldn't have anything to shake besides the hair on their heads.
His last fuel cell was on half power, and without a way to charge it he would be without a disguise fairly soon. It had been two days of pointless running cross—contintal, and for what? The protogen would probably get captured and end up with the rest of his stuff on some dissection table. Should he just turn himself in now and get it over with?
He slumped backwards in dismay. He hadn't slept in... two of this planet's rotations? The protogen tossed and turned for a moment before letting out a short vocoded sigh. The more he thought about it though, the more he knew he didn't really want to get caught. It's just... why did he get to be the lone survivor of his whole crew? What about Kukri, or the Captain?
/][VOLUNTARY REST AND REPAIR CYCLE << countdown {0:30} >>][\
This would be his last slumber before the projector would run out of power, so he minus well enjoy it. Under the groundling disguise he could feel his visor tinting itself to rest mode, and so he shut his eyes to meet the oncoming darkness.
Silence. No sound but the muted trickling of the dried up river.
He could no longer feel his body, almost like he was floating in a dark void. He could feel the organic part of himself drift off to sleep, but there seemed to always be a portion of his consciousness that he could never shut off. Maybe that was the machine in his head, but wait... he could sense the creature part of him stir in its rest. Maybe he was the machine? He felt a twist of uncomfortable feelings and his heart began to speed up. No, he was definitely more than just the computer, but he didn't know where he started and where it ended within the paracosm of his own little existence.
