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Most users ever online was 29 on October 1st 2013, 12:09 am


    Shifting Gears.

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    Bad John
    Freelancer Operative

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    Shifting Gears.

    Post  Bad John on August 13th 2013, 11:22 pm

    The atmosphere is pretty thick. Typically, it would protect the Earth from ordinary objects, streaking through space. Once intersecting with Earth, the little, intrepid object is typically burned to ashes.

    Even if it CAN pierce through Earth's sturdy atmosphere, the odds are stacked so far against a little object finding Earth is...what's the right word...

    Infinitesimal.

    But there was a certain shooting star that defied those odds for two reasons. He burned through the Earth's atmosphere, the metal around his pod superheating. Despite his size, he was built as tough as any one of his kind. He pierced through Earth's defenses.

    The frost of deep space was licked away by the sky's capricious fire. In stasis, he couldn't feel the heat, as his pod vibrated and shook, falling like a stone thrown by God. The markings on his pod, and his signal beacon, were burnt away before he could pierce the clouds.

    Fire licked at all sides of the solid, tear-drop shaped comet. The being inside awakened as he felt the sudden cold rush of the wet, fluffy clouds. Unfortunately, the suffusion of chilly wetness was gone, replaced by wind and heat. He wasn't far from the ground, traveling almost parallel to it.

    TOUCHDOWN.

    The pod smashed the dirt and soft grass. It kicked soil through the air, obscuring his already limited vision. He shredded the earth, carving through it like butter. He made an impact upon the dirt nearly a quarter mile long, before coming to a stop.

    "...172, 893, 701?! 8930...?"

    The solid, tear drop shaped, superheated, metal stone waited there, dazed and in pain.

    N.E.S.T. Headquarters, Diego Garcia Island

    11:57 pm, June 9th, 2016.
    "General Pilgrim, our phones are ringing off the charts. The Pentagon, British Parliament, the Mexicans, even the CANADIANS are pissed." The General's aid, Lauren, stepped into William Pilgrim's office.

    Pilgrim stretched his legs in his chair, wiping his eyes. A dark haired, tired eyed man of thirty-eight, "Well...this isn't great. We didn't KNOW that this guy was coming, so we couldn't warn them. He's a small one, but him landing in Rural Iowa certainly helps. Easier to contain, even IF he goes mobile. We don't know if he's a friendly or a hostile, so we'll mobilize a strike team." Lenno

    "Why don't we know anything about this one? Why was he off the radar?"

    Lennox shrugged. "I donno. Ask the science teams. My guess, however, is that it's either just a busted satellite, or he's a 'con trying to stay off the radar. I don't know their politics, but if he wanted to lay low, Earth might be the best place to do it. Anywhere else, and they stick out like sore thumbs."

    "I'll notify Lennox and his teams."

    "I already did." Pilgrim waved his hand. "I'm goin' back to bed. That punk making planetfall is the only reason I'm up anyway. It's SUNDAY."

    Laura raised her eyebrow. "What is it exactly that you...DO here?"

    Pilgrim rolled his eyes. "I supervise."

    Rural Iowa.

    12:34 am, June 10th, 2016
    The rock had cooled off, and the being inside had time to relax.

    The massive stone began to shift and move. The immense comet, a shining, silver tear of metal, began to bloom like a steel flower. Moving parts clicked and buzzed as they shifted out of the way, sliding and peeling back like opening doors and moving levers.

    Soon, the massive ellipsoid object began to take a more sleek, recognizable shape. Its legs took form, and he stood. His arms and legs were formed out of the dozens upon dozens of moving parts.

    His face was simple, a sleek, humanoid visage with no recognizable mouth, and a pair of shining blue eyes. He stepped out of the crater clumsily. He slipped on the soft soil, thudding against the ground and sliding back into the crater.

    He got up, the pain giving him back his balance. This time, he moved with careful precision, his hands scooping through the dirt. He moved on all fours, until he climbed the wall of dirt out of the crater.

    He regretted his concussive impact. His peers, throughout their communications, had told him that this planet had life, but this wasn't what he expected.

    The grass was foreign to him. The life-forms, plantlife that would be mundane to humans, terrified him. Brittle, brown, tall things. Would they attack? The tickling of tiny green things on his feet. Would it corrode his outer plating?!

    He looked around.

    "...Holy shit..."

    Then the massive extraterrestrial saw it. A LOCAL.

    A twenty-five year old woman in a mechanic's outfit. She was clutching a wrench, which was clearly no threat to the immense, metal robot.

    Standing with fifteen feet between them the

    They stared at each-other for a moment.

    "1283214933!!!!"

    The alien made a series of noises that, although possessing a recognizable voice, made no logical sense to the human. It lifted one foot, and hopped backwards away from the creature, as if he were a human encountering a mouse. Everything about his body-language expressed abject terror and confusion.

    The woman stood her ground. "You...YOU GET OUTTA HERE! GIT! GO ON BACK YOU YOUR PLANET!!!"

    Her sudden, violent movements only heightened the alien's fear.

    Then it stopped being afraid. It realized how irrational its fear was, and how embarrassed it was to be frightened of such a small being.

    Language Comprehension Complete. English.
    "Hah. Hmmmm." He started slow. His process of learning english had been a subroutine until now. His mind comprehended it, but it was difficult to vocalize something you'd never spoken. He recomposed himself in a manner befitting an Autobot (albiet young, naked, and out of his element), and his visor, resembling the Autobot he had been built after after, snapped down over his bright blue eyes.

    He knelt down, looking at the human, and reached out his hand. He had thick, powerful metal fingers, so he would need to be gentle.

    She recoiled in fear, dropping her wrench and darting away, but he reached quickly, seizing the back of her shirt and lifting her in front of him. The fifteen foot tall robot held the woman in one hand carefully, not wanting to damage the small creature. His blue eyes dimly shined through his black, glass visor, as he made his first english inquiry.

    "Hello. I'm lost. As you can tell, I'm a little new here."
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    It's Kruger
    Freelancer Operative

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    Re: Shifting Gears.

    Post  It's Kruger on August 14th 2013, 2:07 am

    Haha, dope.
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    Shad0wChas3r
    Database Director

    Posts : 1190
    Join date : 2013-01-16
    Age : 22

    Re: Shifting Gears.

    Post  Shad0wChas3r on August 14th 2013, 3:27 am

    I take it this has to do with the conversation you were having the other day about Jazz? I assume he is another 'Jazz' like character?

    Very nicely done, had me fooled for a bit there before the word Autobot showed up!


    _________________


    \\'Boyo\\'

    Thanks for Reading!

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    Manny
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    Re: Shifting Gears.

    Post  Manny on August 14th 2013, 12:52 pm

    Autobots?

    Sweet.
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    I_IRONMAN_I

    Posts : 108
    Join date : 2013-02-21
    Age : 21
    Location : Stark Tower

    Re: Shifting Gears.

    Post  I_IRONMAN_I on August 14th 2013, 4:24 pm

    Autobots. (roll out!)

    Awesome :D
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    Bad John
    Freelancer Operative

    Posts : 1217
    Join date : 2013-01-17
    Location : A box in the United States.

    Re: Shifting Gears.

    Post  Bad John on August 15th 2013, 12:17 am

    12:39 am, June 10th, 2016
    "...Well?"

    The young autobot stared the "local" in the eye. She had been thrashing and cursing for a good four minutes.

    "Look, I'm not going to hurt you, and this is getting you NOWHERE. Just tell me where the other Autobots are, and I'll put you down."

    "What in Sam Hill is an Autobot?!" The woman, Brooke Niel, stopped thrashing and stared at the massive steel alien's face. "I demand to speak with your leader!"

    "...Alright. It's pretty clear you don't know ANYTHING." The autobot set Brooke down gently and slowly, then clapped his hands together, cleaning the woman's "contaminants" off of his hands. "So long. Thanks for nothin'."

    He began scans of the terrain, cross referencing things he saw with things he'd seen on his desolate home planet. "Hey," he turned, and saw the woman was still there, "the green stuff. What is it?"

    "It's GRASS." Brooke dusted her overalls off. "You're...you're not so bad, for a giant robot. You talk like those folks from Camden City though. I don't trust you, but I guess I won't be needing to call the feds."

    "Autonomous robotic organisms from the planet Cybertron." He looked her in the eye. "Autobot, for short. And what exactly are you?"

    "Human. From the planet humantron."

    "Humantron?" The Autobot began storing the information, before Brooke hastily corrected him.

    "No. I'm joking. This is Earth. You came here not knowing what this place was?"

    "Well, yes. My Leader, Optimus Prime, broadcasted a signal from this planet. I'm not good at tracing signals, and my own beacon was broken. I assumed landing here was a good start."

    "Well, see, that's where you're wrong." Brooke pointed to him.

    My friends call be brave, but this is CRAZY. Why am I making conversation with this thing? Brooke looked up at the robot, keeping her cool. Its eyes are glowing. Will the glow give me cancer? Is it brainwashing me?

    "How am I wrong? My leader's here, now I'm here." The Autobot rubbed his smooth, featureless face. "Ugh. Being in a protoform is cold."

    "Well, the moment the government finds out that an ALIEN is here, then it'll be BLACK HELICOPTERS. And you're a BIG alien."

    Heh heh. She thinks I'm big. The Autobot remembered standing beside his teachers and peers during combat drills. Being fifteen feet tall put him on the smaller side, but he was hopeful that he'd hit a growth spurt.

    "And what's a protoform? Do you transform?"

    Brooke had sincerely hit the nail on the head with that comment, so much so that it sent a shiver down the Autobot's nerve circuits.

    "Look, from the information I managed to skim from Optimus' signal beacon, there are things here called vehicles. If I were to wear my old armor and alt-mode, I'd stick out like a sore thumb. Can you show me a vehicle really quick?"

    "...Bullshit. I'm not helpin' you." Brooke took a step back, fearful.

    The Autobot knelt down. "Please?"

    "Fuck off, alien. Let Homeland Security deal with you."

    He retracted his visor, and she stared into his dimly glowing eyes.

    "...Fuck me. Whatever. C'mon. I'll take you back to my auto shop."

    "Nice." The Autobot followed her along for a few steps. "Actually, this is taking way too long."

    Brooke stared up at him. She'd given the look to children she'd babysat as a teenager. A wild, angry, authoritative look that she reserved for ungrateful people and ignorant city-folk. "Look, slick. If you have a FASTER way to travel-"

    "OOOOOOOH I have MANY faster ways to travel, but let's start with this."

    Before Brooke could object, the Autobot scooped her up with one hand, and let her sit in his palm. "Grab my finger, and point in the direction of your auto-shop."

    Brooke, trembling with total anxiety, pointed one shaking finger NorthWest.

    And like a bolt of lightning, the Autobot achieved his full running speed. His clanking footsteps were muffled by the grass, leaving a clear trail of jagged footsteps.

    Brooke held on, and couldn't fight back a feeling of childlike glee at being carried so fast, the wind against her face.

    WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

    Transport Helicopter.

    Ten minutes outside of Rural Iowa.

    1:03 am
    "We're having trouble tracking the NBE." A human scientist tapped away at a glowing, thick computer. "Energon readings are low, but definitely present. He's a smaller transformer."

    A dark red sports-car revved his engine on the other side of the chopper. A ferrari, and a new one at that, he was clearly impatient and claustrophobic.

    A row of motorcycles similarly brought their engines to life. Their headlights flashed, communicating with one another. Each was a different color, one purple, one blue, and one pink. The pink one reared back, popping a wheelie.

    "Calm down, Elita." The scientist wiped his nose. "Lennox, we've traced the STRONGEST signal to a small auto-body shop not far from here. It's not moving, so that's our best bet."

    Red Lennox nodded, rifle in hand. His hair was cut short, and he had a scar over his glassy right eye. He let the strap hold his firearm, as he struck a wooden match, lighting a thick cigar between his teeth. "Autobots. You guys wanna handle this, since it's just one?"

    The blue motorcycle honked once. The red ferrari, second in command, did the same.

    "Alright. Amigo, you move in first. Chromia, Arcee, and Elita-1, you corral him if the target's a fleeing decepticon. ASK QUESTIONS FIRST. You guys almost took Wheeljack's head off with friendly fire when he first arrived."

    Amigo honked once, as the doors of the Helicopter opened. The red ferrari backed out of the helicopter, free-falling out of sight.

    The purple motorcycle followed next. The blue one was next in line.

    "BYE LENNOX!" The pink motorcycle exited last, popping another wheelie, and ramping out of the helicopter.

    "PILOT. Land us a kilometer away, and maintain radio contact with Arcee. Let's see how this plays out."

    Niel Automotive Body Shop, Rural Iowa, USA.
    1:04 am.[/quote]"Nope." The Autobot scanned each car. Mostly vans and pick-up trucks. None fit his size criteria. "What is this place, anyway? Do you collect these things?"

    "Nope." Brooke sat in the corner, as she watched the robot trudge around her lot. "Most of them are for spare parts. Some are here for repairs. I get paid to repair cars."

    "Sounds gross. This looks like a really weird, primitive hospital to me." The Autobot turned jokingly towards Brooke. "Imagine if I had a shop that sold YOUR parts."

    "...Like a butcher's shop? It's meat, so granted, it isn't HUMAN parts."

    The Autobot gave her a curious look. "So, no humans eat other humans? That's good."

    Brooke gave the Autobot an uncomfortable glance. "What kinda autobot eats other autobots?"

    "Some Decepticons are into that kind of thing."

    "What's a Decepticon?"

    "Bad news, usually. Hopefully, target practice." The Autobot sat. "Well...I'm not finding what I need in this pile of junk, so I guess I'll regail you with a history lesson. Autobots are just that: AUTOBOTS. We believe in freedom, and the chance for everyone to get what they want out of life. Well, most of us, anyway."

    Brooke was at first frightened of the alien, but his ability to speak perfect english (although tainted with a city accent), and his amiable nature made him seem safe, and frankly, INTERESTING.

    "The Decepticons disagree. They're violent, mean, and they outnumber the Autobots at least ten to one. It's been a long hard war, from what my teachers told me, but with Optimus on our side, we'll probably win. Or we won't. Our planet is doomed either way. Without any energon to restore it, Cybertron is a withered husk of what she once was."

    "Hey." Brooke stood up, folding her arms. "So you're like a refugee."

    "Soldier, technically, but yup. Refugee is definitely on the list. Even though Cybertron is broken down, a lot of Decepticons still have control of it. Living there, for an Autobot, is a slow death sentence. I was being hunted down before I got off the planet."

    "That's sad."

    "Thanks for the sympathy, but what I need right now is a suitable car."

    "You can't fit in a car, but I can show you one that MIGHT suit your needs, city-slicker. C'mere."

    Brooke led the Autobot to a large garage in the back. "This is where I keep valuable cars that city-folk want fixed. A high class doctor fella brought it in yesterday."

    She opened the garage, and there it was. A hard top convertible. It was bright red, reflecting whatever light it could pick up. The hood was up, a brighter red racing stripe across the top of it.

    "...Yeah. The aspect ratio should fit my body-mass." The Autobot's eyes glowed brighter blue for a moment, as he prepared gis scanners.

    "Whatever that means. Just don't break it."

    A blue line of light flashed over it from his eyes. Brooke dove out of the way, fearing that it was some form of heat vision.

    In an instant, the Transformer's entire body glowed, and he crouched down.

    "Awwwwww yeah." His body was caked in a blue material that morphed over him. He crumpled and shrank like a piece of paper folding down, and in an instant, he was the exact model car that Brooke had shown him. He was dark blue, with a solid white stripe.

    Brooke cupped her hand to her mouth. "HO. HOLY WOW. OH WOW HE TRANSFORMED."

    "That's the strangest thing you've seen?" The car's radio spoke, and in an instant, he shifted his weight, the car's exterior fragmenting and folding, forming arms and legs. Once again, he stood, but this time he was totally different from his Protoform mode. He felt refreshed, and much warmer, wrapped in armor that resembled the car he once was.

    His visor was now blue, and he sported a helmet of sorts, his visor crested by a brim. Brooke likened it to a baseball helmet.

    Most striking of his changes was the addition of a face. His once featureless mask now had a mouth, a line extending down his eyes. His face was smooth, with lips and a nose like hers. He seemed more "human" now.

    "That's really somethin'." Brooke regained her composure. "But it's only the SECOND strangest thing I've ever seen."

    "You sure?" The Autobot grinned. "I BET it's the weirdest thing. Admit it. You freaked out."

    "NOPE. Second weirdest."

    The Autobot sat, chuckling. "It sucks that I haven't found any other Autobots, but you're not so bad."

    Brooke nodded in thanks. He can turn into a car, so if I tell him to lay low, that won't be a problem. He's a nice kid, and if the Government catches him, they'll take him apart. She smiled to mask her worry. This is like a movie. I found him. He's technically MY alien now. I'll keep him here until his mothership comes and gets him.

    "So, do you have a name, alien?" Brooke sat back on the hood of a car.

    The Autobot shrugged. "No. I'm number twelve in my class of hatchlings, but nobody gave me a name."

    "Ah." Brooke shook her head. "Damn shame. Kid like you deserves a NAME at least." She searched her mind for an idea.

    The car he'd mimicked. She turned to look at it. It was a custom built Dodge Viper.

    Viper? No. Better name.

    "Here's a name for you. Dodge."

    "Dodge." He mulled it over. "I avoided a missile strike from Brawl, Starscream missed shooting me once, and once Bonecrusher almost punched my head off, but I ducked the swing just in time. Dodge seems pretty appropriate."

    Dodge smiled at Brooke. "Thanks. From now on, I'm Dodge."

    "No problem, Dodge. I'm Brooke."

    "Brooke and Dodge." Dodge waved his hand through the air. "You and me are going to go places."

    "We sure are, city slicker."

    Dodge suddenly, sharply turned his head. His eyes flashed brighter blue. "Actually...we SHOULD go places. Right now."

    "The heck? You're being a little forward there, Dodge." Brooke chortled. "Itching to try out your new wheels?"

    "There's another Transformer coming. And he's coming FAST."

    Dodge crouched, and transformed. He wasn't used to his new form yet. "If it's a Decepticon, it'll kill ANYONE here for fun. You should get in."

    Brooke, for the first time since the onset of this ordeal, felt like she was in genuine danger, but decided to be brave. "You run. I'll tell him you weren't here."

    "He'd KILL you if you told him that. Come with me, I'll drop you off somewhere safe, then I'll lead him away, alright?"

    Brooke swallowed hard, nodded, and jumped into Dodge's driver's seat.

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      Current date/time is November 19th 2017, 1:31 am