Author's Notes: Optimus Prime leads by making the right decisions based on thousands of years of experience with Cybertronian forces. How will he handle one misstep or rather, misroll on earth? Throw in Will Lennox, (NOT a pairing) a scenic mountain campground, and lots of unforeseen complications and go from adventure to disaster in the flash of a laser beam! Not a dark / angst fic. No slash, smut, gore or sleaze. Read and enjoy. Set story alert or author alert to receive notifications of updates.

Warning: As usual, please keep all food and drink away from computer and monitor or laptop screen and not in your mouth lest you spit and choke said food.

I do NOT own Transformers in any shape, size or form. This is strictly for fun and never for profit. If you want to use any of this, email me to let me know and I can read your fic, always looking for a good read and to share. NO SLASH OR SMUT though. I draw the line there.

OP OP OP OP OP OP OP OP OP OP OPTIMUS PRIME

"I am not sending an Autobot distress signal. The Decepticons can track it. I am a bit of a target," Optimus stated firmly, his regal baritone diminished within the confines of his sleeper cab. Major Will Lennox, leader of NEST balanced on the angled driver's seat, shifting to ease the soreness his stomach.

'Their favorite target,' Will thought, remembering the helicopters bringing back his destroyed frame, dropping it on the Nellis hangar tarmac nearly three years before. "You keep a link open with all your mechs as Prime. You have heavily encrypted comm lines to Ironhide, Prowl and Ultra Magnus. A special signal known only to Elita. Relay over one of those?" An ominous deep growl rumbled the entire cab. "Not even a compacted distress beam to Ratchet?"

"Especially Ratchet!" The mech snapped back. Pain sensors were fluctuating as gears and parts strained, caught in a barely started transform. Gravel filled every space, preventing smooth transitions unless crushed and that fine grit filled connections the pebbles missed. 'Shutting down primary sensors,' he began overriding medical protocols, fighting with his own safeties.

"Will, you'll have to reach in and pull them out by hand around my main processor. I cannot transform." The armor plate nearest the alt mode front left fender popped out with a hiss, rotating up to release a stream of pebbles back out. "If you please?"

"Sure, why not?" He fought to keep from smirking as he stood on the metal runner brace. Jokes and puns began running through his mind but he kept the conversation light. "I can't believe," he scooped out a handful of the small gray pebbles; "You didn't know what you were doing Optimus." Two more scoops of the pebbles were thrown out. He paused to look at the semi alt mode, its normal red and blue flames grey with scattered dust. The shape was twisted, distorted to the eye as though bent in odd ways no human could make. His blue jeans and green army t-shirt was rapidly becoming coated with grey dust.

"I expected a truck runaway ramp on a steep downward incline to use passive lasers, tractor beams or anti gravity lances. Not a five foot deep pit filled with tons of small round rocks! How primitive," the ancient Prime grumbled, sunk up to his axles in the runaway ramp. Will paused, looking around the sunken front bumper at the majestic mountain view spread out before them. An eagle soared in the distance, its scream floating back on the wind. Clouds drifted in the blue sky, white and fluffy. Sweating, he leaned on the warm metal, remembering the terror from moments before.

He had been enjoying the mountain cliff views, content to let Optimus guide them down the steep inclines of the highway when the warning alarm sounded

"What is that?" A career soldier, he recognized an alarm.

"Sensors detect oncoming collision, taking evasive action," Optimus intoned, shifting his engine power down, swerving to the right.

Two small cars, both brightly painted street racers zoomed by, barely missing them as Optimus skirted the guardrail, a cliff edge and fatal drop beyond. The human made and driven cars raced past, engines straining with the uphill angle.

Will hung onto the steering wheel tightly, palms sweaty. "They came out of nowhere on that curve."

"You may relax Major, they are past," Optimus chuckled. "And my steering wheel is disabled. Gripping it or turning it will not affect my navigation. And pressing my brake pedal does not engage my engine restraints."

"You can do that?" the human asked, releasing the simulated rubber wheel.

"My alt mode resembles a Peterbilt sleeper cab semi. I am not controlled by it," he gently reminded then applied the brakes, air hissing as the incline steepened on the curve. Spread out before them, the road zig and zagged down the entire mountain, descending its massive height in a few miles of sloping blacktop.

Will whistled in appreciation. "Can your brakes handle this? You are one heavy mech," he teased.

"Cybertron is not a flat planet Major and this is not my first driving experience on earth. But they may be a problem," he stated. Will's eyes scanned the road laid out below then groaned. Three more sets of racing cars were heading up from the valley below.

"Must be a cannonball type run," he realized. The first set of cars made it past, the red Mazda falling in behind the yellow Dodge racer. The next set raced size by side, forcing Optimus against the guardrail again. The last racers, a blue Ferrari and a silver Corvette dared them to strike, running in their lane.

"Taking evasive action, hang on!" Optimus commanded, locking his brakes, sliding to the right and the promise of safety in the human made runaway truck ramp. Will braced, seeing no way such a short distance of pebbled area could stop them from the abyss at its end.

Optimus slid, his alt mode rear end turning sideways then shifted back straight under his mech controls at ramps edge. He sailed onto the surface, tires grabbing for traction. "Oh frag!" he swore, the sound lost over the creaking noises as his alt mode mass sunk bumper first into the pit of massed pebbles. The sudden stop slammed Will forward against the wheel, knocking his breath out of him. Optimus shook, processors and safeties reacting to the impact force. Battle systems engaged, sensors targeting an enemy that was not there. Venting hard, he opened his alt mode's driver's door, pushing pebbles with its bottom edge. "Major, I need to transform to free myself."

Gasping, Will braced on the door, one hand rubbing his stomach. "Okay, need a minute," he acknowledged. 'This is great. A circular shaped bruise on my gut. How advanced a life form is he? Swear to protect the planet and forgets a simple air bag,' he thought then tried to jump down. "Arrggh!"His feet sunk into the pebbles, throwing him forward, arms wind milling as he fell. Optimus scanned him, detecting no fresh damage and began the transform sequence.

Will spun on his back, reaching for the 45 in his leg holster as Optimus screamed, alt mode twisting and heaving. Human eyes scanned the sky, road and nearby trees for Decepticons.

"What?" he yelled, trying to brace, sinking and unbalanced.

"They're inside me!" Optimus snarled. "I'm unable to continue."

Will's eyes went big as he realized what had happened. The smallest gap and the grey pebbles had poured in like water. Leaving the Transformer in his alt mode, barely shifted and trapped. "Are you sure we can't call for help?"

"No!"

"Fine, don't be a sparkling. I can only remove so much by hand. Then what?" The human asked, trying not to laugh. The movement would only hurt his sore abdomen.

"I need a tow truck," the mech admitted quietly. "And Major,"

"Yes, Prime?"

"Try not to enjoy this... situation too much. I do have some dignity."

"Understood."

Diego Garcia NEST base, Main Autobot Hangar

"Communications, has Major Lennox confirmed their estimated arrival time?" Prowl asked, his wing doors relaxed above his shoulders. The black and white armor glimmered in the hangar lights, not a scratch or mar anywhere across its smooth surface. He faced the wheeled platform squarely, optics lightly spinning with interest as he waited. He could have accessed the logs directly from the mainframe but chose to honor the human's wishes for verbal communication. His own desire for privacy kept from snooping on their activities while remaining alert for reactions indicating distress or trouble.

"No sir. No communication on any line," The tech confirmed, scanning the entries.

"You sure?" Ironhide strode over, his acute alien hearing alerting him. The black warrior mech exchanged a quick glance with Prowl before switching to internal comms.

::Prime change his plans? Fly back instead of drive from Cheyenne Mountain?:: Ironhide

::Failed to inform me. Conference ended and he specified driving to Nevada for rendezvous with Silverbolt. Specified he needed the 'down' time with Major Lennox through purple mountain majesty:: Prowl answered, his mental tone unhappy at the thought of missing information.

The tech waved for their attention. "No contact, no update since he called in 10:30 last night at the conference. Confirmed they left the base before sunrise. I came on at 05:45 hours sir. There has been no communications with us or Pentagon command."

Master Sergeant Epps bit his lip, not liking it. "Prime always keeps a link right? Can you reach him, ask where they are?"

Both mechs shook their heads human style, side to side.

"Prime signal tells him when we are offlined," Prowl corrected, actively scanning Autobot signal relays for a distress call or message. His blue optics dimmed as he multi tasked.

"Prime is a big bot. He does not need to check in," Ironhide huffed, patting one of his cannons to hide his growing concern.

::Anything?:: Ironhide

::Negative. Conferred with Bumblebee and Hound in the field, no relay in their area either. We can contact directly. Ask his status?:: Prowl

::If we needed to know Prime would let us know. Wait half a joor then relay a request for a command decision:: Ironhide

::What decision?:: Prowl

::Create one. Or the request will be for Ratchet to repair us if Elita One finds out anything happened to him and we didn't check it out. That femme of his scares me:: Ironhide

To be continued….next up, tow truck time.