"Oww." I whispered softly. I ignored the lime green robot, and began working with my neural interface. I must have hit my head, because the damage report refused to display. Certain other displays refused to activate or de-activate

"Strange…" I muttered. "Computer, audio damage report."

"Port and Starboard wings sustained damage. Main struts one, two, and three broken. Flight systems offline, estimated downtime, one week. Mild concussion, no downtime, down an estimated four percent reflex, visual systems may be impaired. Damage report complete."

At that point, the large robot bent down to more closely examine me. "Are you injured?" he asked rhetorically.

"I'm fine." I replied, waving dismissively. "I'll just walk it off."

"It is not safe for you here." it said, transforming. "Get in." Sitting in front of me was a lime-green ambulance. Something about the tone of voice the ambulance used told me that I'd better not bother trying anything, and after a few moments, I entered the vehicle, sitting in the passenger seat and buckling his seatbelt. I sat with a practiced ease, as if there was nothing more normal than sitting in an ambulance with the capability to turn into a giant robot.

I'm on my way, Optimus. Ratchet said tersely.

What took so long? I had thought you were on you way three minutes ago. Hurry, or you will miss the rendezvous with the human called Samuel Witwicky. came a slightly irritated reply.

I accidentally ran over a human. He appeared out of nowhere, I never even saw him on sensors. There was an energy disruption, like an intense scan of some sort, and there he was. I barely had time to register his presence. Ratchet explained.

Was the human damaged? came the tense question.

Yes. It was unavoidable, Prime, I swear it. Ratchet replied softly. He is with me now.

How bad? Prime asked softly.

According to the human's own equipment, port and starboard wings had three struts each broken, with an estimated one week recovery, and a mild concussion. For the wings, one week of downtime, and for the concussion, just a four percent decrease in reflex. Ratchet replied. He has some…odd…technology.

What is he doing now?

For now, he is just waving his hands in the air. The movements are ordered, I think there is more that we are not seeing.

Of that you may be sure. Bumblebee is on his way with Sam and a human femme.

At last, I spoke up. "Am I a prisoner?" I asked, my tone slightly amused. It's not everyday that you see an ambulance drive itself, after all.

At that, Ratchet materialized a holoform in the driver's seat. "No, I just wanted to make sure you were alright." he said.

I snorted, not really believing his words, if he was even a he. "I already told you I'm alright."

"No, you said you would 'walk it off'." Ratchet corrected. "My designation is Ratchet, I'm a medic. Who are you?"

"My chosen designation is Ajax, seeing as how I forgot my serial number, and I'm a jack of all trades."

"Serial number?" Ratchet wondered out loud. A strange look flashed across my face, but it passed as quickly as it appeared.

"Ancient history, Ratchet." I replied. "Nothing to worry about."

"Sure." Ratchet said sarcastically. "I'm convinced." The ambulance pulled to a stop. "Get out." he ordered, the door swinging open.

I exited the intelligent vehicle, and walked farther into the alley. Suddenly, my glasses and the shoulder units lit with pulsing yellow, and there was a feedback squeal before a voice announced, quite clearly, "Yellow Alert. Status report, three vehicles, similar readings to previous anomaly."

"Come to think about it, I never did figure out why I woke up this morning." I muttered, tapping at a bronze bracer on my right forearm. Strange blue symbols flashed as my fingers danced across the surface, and a moment later, I pulled my favorite grey longcoat out of a swirling vortex of white-blue energy. The vortex faded away as I put on the coat, and pulled out a pair of handguns. Their presence was in my hands comforted me somewhat, and I settled on a course of action.

"Computer, mute lighting, engage assisted stealth programs." I ordered, before jumping sideways.

The lights vanished, and I landed softly, well out of the light, where I began crawling forward. I swore softly when bright headlights swept over me, and I stood up, holding my hands in the air in a gesture of surrender. My guns were already back in my pockets, thanks to my reflexes. No point in letting them see everything.

A teenaged boy and girl, approximately the same age to each other, exited the vehicle, and stepped forward as the other three vehicles transformed, and made themselves known, along with the ambulance.

The tallest one, who was initially a Peterbilt rigged for flatbed work, introduced himself as Optimus Prime, then proceeded to introduce the others.

"This is Ratchet, our medical officer, Jazz, our communications officer, Ironhide, our weapons specialist, and you've already met Bumblebee, your guardian." he said.

Ratchet spoke first. "Their pheromones indicate that the male wishes to mate with the female." he said. "And the one by the Dumpster is currently hiding his fear as best he can."

Jazz, a silver Porche, sat down on an abandoned and broken down car. "This looks like a cool place to kick it." he said by way of greeting. Ironhide pulled out a cannon, and charged it up with the words "Feelin' lucky, punk?"

I first reaction, which was almost immediate, was to jump sideways once more. A siren was sounding, keeping time with the ruby-red lights pulsing over my shoulders.

"Decepticon scum!" Ironhide said, swinging about, pointing his cannons at me.

I jumped again. I had no clue what a 'Decepticon' was, but I had no intention of sticking around to be vaporized. "Computer, raise shields, engage evasive maneuvers program. Disengage assisted stealth."

After several jumps that had Ironhide twisting about multiple times, waving around a glowing cannon, I wrapped himself around one of the struts of Optimus' left ped.

"Ironhide…" Optimus and Ratchet growled simultaneously.

"We do not harm humans." Optimus started.

"He's already a damage human, from an accident with me." Ratchet added. "I still haven't gotten the chance to properly examine him yet."

I cursed loudly at that, not wanting to be examined. "Computer, what are my energy reserves looking like?" I asked.

"Energy reserves at 76 percent." came the automated reply.

I nodded, it was plenty for what I needed to do, and pulled out my wand, before reaching up along my back to the base of my wings, under the coat. "heill." I muttered softly, moving the stick about. After a few seconds, I pulled my arm back out, and put the stick back into it's hiding place.

While I was healing myself, Optimus began telling the story of Cybertron to Sam and Mikaela. I furtively dropped into a crouch, and began slowly moving out of the alley, hoping that the robots, Autobots as they called themselves, would be more interested in the story being told. It was not to be. Ironhide had seen me leaving, and headed me off.

"Where do you think you're going, Decepticon?" he growled.

"I have no clue what a Decept icon is." I bit back. "And it's obvious to me that you aren't of Itex design, so what's your interest in me?"

"You have strange technology." Ironhide replied. "It is not human, and your signature isn't entirely human, for that matter. What are you?"

"I'm a human-avian hybrid." I breathed out. Ironhide was able to clearly hear it, but the others were not, with Optimus' storytelling occupying their attention. "Don't tell Ratchet. It's need to know information only, and he doesn't need to know. As for the technology, it's an imitation of a variety of things I've seen in my travels, including some future technology, and some magic. It was a right pain trying to figure out the whole thing at first. I've got a pair of sensor sets, masquerading as speakers with lighting, and a neural interface pretending to be sunglasses. Can I go now, or has this inquisition only just begun?"

Ironhide stopped for a moment, then pointed back to Optimus. "You stay with us for now."

I sighed, but decided that it was better than being blasted into a few dust particles. Coming back from that would be a royal pain in the ass. "Fine. I reserve the right to remain silent, and will exercise it as I choose." I warned. "I'm not sure I trust you."

"I know I don't trust you." Ironhide retorted. "Go back towards the group now."

I stiffly did an about-face, and marched towards Optimus, the weapons specialist directly behind me.

"Ah, there you are." Optimus said, seeing me. "You are Ajax, correct?"

For a brief moment, I considered passing myself off as James T. Kirk, but decided against it. "Yes." I said wearily. "I am Ajax, commander of the Tau'ri warship Phoenix."

"I do not know of the Tau'ri." Optimus said.

"Look it up." I replied. "Google may help you on that one. The Phoenix is a heavily modified BC-304, and only her basic shape remains unchanged. You will not find the Phoenix on the internet, or at least, not mine, but you should be able to find the faction and ship class easily enough."

"You have a space ship?" Jazz asked at last.

"Yeah, because I can't survive hard vacuum like I'm sure you can." I replied.

"Based on what I have been able to see, the BC-304 class is a formidable ship, mid-range cruiser for humans." Ironhide added. "However, it's biggest weakness is that it is fictional."

I snorted. "Not the Phoenix. She's currently running probes through the dark side of Saturn, and doing her best to stay hidden from sensors of any design. The cloak helps in that regard."

"I am beginning to suspect that your concussion was more than mild." Ratchet said, kneeling down to peer at me.

I decided to use something I had heard Luna say now and again. "I'm just as sane as you are." I replied serenely.

Ratchet made a humph sound, but let the matter drop.

"Where do you live, Ajax?" Optimus asked kindly.

My eyes flicked up to meet Optimus' optics. "Normally, I live aboard the Phoenix." I stated.

"Of course." Optimus said, as if talking to an overly imaginative child. "But what about when you are on a mission that requires you to live elsewhere? Or even, when you are on leave?"

"I am never on leave." I said. "Goes with the territory. And when I'm planet side, I live off the land. Dumpster diving in the city, catching rabbits in the country, if they happen to be in the area. I sleep wherever I can find a spot that I think I won't be found in. In short, Optimus, I live wherever I happen to be."

"My scans indicate he is but a youngling, Optimus." Ratchet said. "And there's something else that bears investigation. His damage report mentioned wings, and during the scans I could run without being too intrusive. He does in fact have wings, and his genetic code is significantly different from the other humans I have seen. He is as different from other humans as Seekers are from Grounders."

"So he is a human seeker?" Optimus queried.

"You could just ask me straight up." I interjected, slightly annoyed.

"Very well." Optimus replied, holding out his massive hand. I easily jumped up into the proffered hand, and Optimus raised me up to eye level. "What are you?"

"I'm a full blown human avian hybrid. Ninety-eight percent human, with a festive two percent dash of avian for cool party tricks like wings, air sacs, blood cells with nuclei, and an increased healing factor." I said, smirking. "I am, by the standards of the human race, a freak and a threat."

"How are you a threat?" Ironhide said. "I could step on you, and that would be the end of you."

"Be that as it may, I've killed six hundred flyboys in two hours before." I replied lightly. "Eighth birthday, battle of the Grand Canyon. Six hundred flying wolves were tasked with killing or apprehending me. They failed."

"Six hundred to one?" Ironhide asked, seemingly impressed.

"Yeah. Took me two hours, and left me with a number of scars to remember the fight by." I explained.

"I was under the impression that wolves cannot fly." Ratchet said. "Would you care to explain?"

"Illegal genetic experimentation. I was one of the lucky ones, since I came out rather intelligent. I could hide rather well in a crowd if I tried hard enough. Of course, heat sensing devices would make that so much harder to do…" I replied. "Erasers were essentially werewolves that lived for a period of time ranging from six to eight years before expiring. Flyboys were the same deal, with wings added into the mix. I was up against the very first production batch, and it showed. They were clumsy in the air, but the scientists quickly rectified that within two years. My story does not matter though. From what I overheard, you are looking for a pair of glasses that will lead you to a Cube shaped artifact called the Allspark." at that, I turned to Ironhide. "See, I do pay attention in class." Did I really just say that? O'Neill must be rubbing off on me.

"Our presence on this world must remain secret." Optimus said solemnly. "Will you consent to stay with us?"

"Can I at least bargain a little?" I asked, casting a sideways glance at Ratchet. "If I'm staying with you people or robots…Autobots….eh, I'll work out the syntax later. Point is, if I stay with this group, I'm staying with you specifically. Or of course, you could just let Ironhide vaporize me with one of his cannons, though I'd prefer to avoid that scenario."

"We do not harm humans." Optimus stated. "I find your terms acceptable."

"Cool." I replied. "You might want to transform though…giant robots are hard to miss in a world like this."

Optimus seemed to chuckle, and started to lower me back to the ground, but the I simply leaped out of his hand, flapping lightly a few times before touching down.

The various Autobots transformed, and a door opened, granting access to the cab of the Peterbilt. A holoform flickered into existence in the driver's seat, taking the appearance of a man in his thirties, wearing blue jeans and a red plaid shirt.

I sat down in the passenger seat, and buckled me seatbelt as the door closed. I relaxed in the seat, entering a light sleep as the convoy moved to Sam Witwicky's house.

Once there, I got out, and waited with a bored expression on his face as Optimus and the others transformed, and generally made a mess of things while Sam searched for his great-grandfather's glasses. Just as he found them, several government cars showed up. Of course, the Autobots had already managed to get away and hide themselves, but the yard was a mess, and they had left me behind as well.

I soon found myself handcuffed, and shoved into a van along with Sam and Mikaela, my bored expression still firmly in place as one of the people flashed an S7 badge and informed them that it was a 'do anything and get away with it' badge. It took me a little bit, but I pulled off a silent and wandless alohomora, freeing me from the handcuffs. I leaned forward, and put my arms in my lap, without the handcuffs.

Sam was about to say something when I winked and nudged him with me foot, but the agent up front noticed anyway, and turned around to face them.

"How did you get those handcuffs off?" he demanded. He turned to the driver. "Stop the van!"

I shrugged passively, and laid my head against the headrest. I seriously didn't like the guy, and pissing him off sounded like fun.

"I'm ordering you to tell me how you did it!" the agent yelled. "Speak, or I'll have you put away and I'll personally throw away the key."

"I was taught that if I have nothing nice to say, that I should say nothing at all." I replied. "Also, I have the right to remain silent. I will exercise that right as I please." I'm still not sure if it was the words or the bored monotone in which the words were delivered, but I was pleased to note that the agent went ballistic.

A moment later though, the vehicle was lifted up. "That would be Optimus, here to rescue us, I expect." I said dryly. "Not that I need rescuing…"

"Oh, I'm sure you have a plan for getting out of here, then?" the agent sneered.

I considered my options. Truth it is, then. "Yeah, actually. I was going to just sit around and wait for the Phoenix to lock onto my emergency distress beacon, and transport me out."

"Do you know who I am?" the agent asked.

"Yeah, you're the guy with the do-anything-and-get-away-with-it badge." I replied, feeling like a smart-ass. "Do you know who I happen to be?"

"Yeah, you're the guy in my custody, because I'm Director Simmons, and I'm in charge of S7, and you have no chance of getting out of my custody."

"Whatever." I replied, as the car fell back to the ground without a roof. "My name is Ajax, Commander of the Tau'ri warship Phoenix. If my calculations are right, then the Phoenix will start receiving my distress call right about….now."

"Why so long?" Simmons sneered.

"She's in orbit around Jupiter." I replied, deadpan. "She'll be breaking orbit and heading here at full speed. I wouldn't be surprised if she tries an in-system hyperspace jump."

"Taking the children was a poor choice." Optimus warned, looking sternly into the car. "Everyone out. Autobots, relieve them of their weapons."

I admit, I snarled a little as my precious .45s were snatched out of my coat pocket, followed by an assortment of knives and other small weapons, but got out of the car and waited, my posture relaxed. Anything to piss off potential enemies. "Ironhide." I said loudly. "I want my toys back. I think I can handle them responsibly."

"Then come get them." the weapons specialist replied. Figures. Why should he return them to me when I can go over and get them?

I walked over to Ironhide, and picked up my prized .45s, momentarily holding them as if they were my children. Ironhide quirked an optic ridge, recognizing my general attitude as the same attitude he had when working with his weapons.

I finished retrieving my weaponry, and smiled slightly as I placed the handguns into the pockets of my longcoat. I then walked back to my previous position, leaning against the roofless vehicle.

The Autobots picked up Sam and Mikaela after the agents had been handcuffed, then beat a retreat as air support appeared. I went with them, preferring aliens to government imbeciles. Soon after, Mikaela fell, then Sam fell, and while Optimus managed to catch Mikaela, Bumblebee was forced to break cover in order to catch Sam. The scout was quickly captured, and Sam went to try and help.

I snarled in rage as he saw the S7 goons attempting to freeze Bumblebee, and I dropped from my perch, winging my way towards the fallen mech. Twice my .45 roared, and twice a bullet ricocheted off of worn pavement.

"I missed on purpose!" I bellowed. "Release Bumblebee, or there will be a body count tonight!"

"Secure the robot!" Simmons ordered. "And subdue that freak too, he could be interesting to study."

"Study this!" I screamed, flinging a small throwing star. It embedded itself in Simmons' arm, missing a minor artery by a quarter inch. Nobody calls me a freak lightly.

The next thing I knew was an intense cold as someone turned a CO2 fire extinguisher on me. The automated systems in my neural interface screamed a temperature warning at me as the sensor nodes shut down from the cold. The display generated in my visual cortex by the interface flickered, strange colors flaring through the various generated readouts, then one by one, the readouts near the edge of my vision winked out, and my sight grew dim. A moment later, the last display blinked out, and I knew only blackness…

A/N: I'm finally coming back to this story. I was dissatisfied with how it worked out the first time around, so I'm rebooting and trying it again. Stay tuned!