Disclaimer: Only Rachel and the NPC's of this story are mine, the Transformers belong to Hasbro and Takara.. Tho I wouldn't mind having Jazz and the Lambo-twins -grin-

A/N: This story starts out from the P.O.V of Rachel (mostly). Science-fiction with a healthy dose of romance and friendship. (fluff no slash) Jazz x Rachel (Rachel was independently rated an 18 on the Mary-Sue litmus test)

Rated T for a few strong curse words and graphic violence.

Synopsis: Rachel's work to help keep people safe, becomes the defining factor in a war that she was an unwilling participant in. She is forced to join up with the Autobots, a faction of aliens from the planet Cybertron, in a fight to save Earth and the universe from the Decepticons.

'Thrown' is based off of the Generation 1 universe of Transformers but takes place in present day (2007). Jazz is still the white 935 Porsche with racing stripes. All the other Transformers are the same alternate forms except for Ratchet, Ironhide and Bee, I used their movieverse alternate forms. In the Gen 1 series, Ratchet was a tiny ugly white van type ambulance that looked like a bad repaint of the 'Mystery Machine' and Ironhide was the ugliest red minivan in the universe. Ratchet as the SAR HumVee makes more sense, period. Ironhide as the black Topkick from the movie is perfect, minus one -very- important detail, his trademark Southern Good ol' Boy Accent. And Bee as the Camero not only looks better, but fits better than the VW Bug. Plus, the whole Volkswagen doesn't make war toys ideology is subjective.

I tried to keep as much of the original series mythology as possible, with as few writers prerogatives as I could.

Story Arc 1

Chapter 1 - Rachel

My name is Rachel Milne. I am 24 years old and I lived just outside Kirtland National Labs in Oregon. I have two doctorates in Electrical Engineering and Supramolecular Chemistry and I graduated top of my class at MIT from which I was recruited by the Department of Defense. I have led a Nanotech project, which I created, for the past three years. This project was for the governments' war machine. I had created nanoparticals that when applied to any metal surface would make the material impervious to any damage, anything from as simple as rust to the shrapnel of IED's and to the heat of a nuclear explosion. This was to help keep US and Allied Troops safe from the insurgents in Baghdad and elsewhere in the Middle East. It was also to be used to make Kevlar armor impervious to the nefarious "cop killer" bullets. This is what I did up until a few months ago when my life turned into a fight for survival.

Let me start at the beginning when my car was stolen…

I was having a day where everything went wrong. My laptop hard drive died while I was trying to upload new schematics for the delivery mechanism of the nanoparticals. I then preceded to knock a coworkers coffee all over the keyboard as I attempted to plug the flash drive back-up into the console computer. Not having my laptop working I missed the email that was to update me on the change of time for a meeting with General Sellers. Fifteen minutes after I was supposed to show, a very agitated aide found me informing me of my absence at the meeting, and I had nothing to show the General because of the earlier mishaps in the day. By the end of the day from Hell, I dragged my weary self to the underground parking only to find that my Geo Metro was gone. Some higher power had it in for me. After I filled out the police report and called my insurance company I got to wait for 30 minutes for a cab to pick me up outside the security post.

It was 8:30 by the time I finally made it home in the suburbs out side of the labs. I threw everything on the table and slipped into the kitchen to pull out a bland frozen meal. All I wanted to do was shower and crawl into bed and forget that today ever happened.

I called in to work the next day telling my supervisor, Charlie that I had to meet with the insurance company and try to find me another mode of transportation. It was a 20-minute commute from my house to the labs, and paying for a cab fare both ways was impossible on my government salary. My insurance cut me a check for the cost of my Geo and caught a ride to the local Chevy dealership to find something to get me to work. The sales rep was nice to me and I guess realized that I was having a bad week so he didn't even attempt to hard sell me. We looked at the small fuel-efficient cars and I took a deep breath, zoning out for a moment while the rep went over how much money I could save by buying a hybrid. Looking idly around the lot, my eyes rested on the area where they kept the used cars. I pointed over to the area and asked the rep if we could look over there. He smiled at me and we walked over. As we walked through the maze of vehicles, I stopped at the front of a black and white Porsche that had caught my eye when I entered the lot. It had seen better days.

The salesman gave me a wink and another smile, "You've had one of those days it seems. Maybe a little splurging will make it better."

He patted the dusty car, "Granted this is an older 935, but it runs well."

I ran my hand over the hood of the car; it had been sitting outside awhile by the amount of dust on it. "How much?" I inquired.

He looked at me, "This car hasn't been on the lot for long, no one want to give it a second look because of the wear on the body, but it runs like a dream. And seeing as dejected as you look I'll knock 25 percent off the price and let you have it for $3500."

I looked at the car again thinking it didn't really fit my nerdy scientist self, but my inner voice told me to go for it. I could afford it and thought that maybe I did need a little self indulgence.

"You only live once, Rachel," I murmured to myself. I smiled at the sales rep, "I'll take it."

I did feel better as I drove my new Porsche off the lot. The interior was beat up; the once nice leather seats were cracked and torn. Whoever had the car last didn't take very good care of it. The engine purred along the streets as I shifted gears. The rep was right; the car drove smoothly. I turned the radio on as I drove and tried to tune into a station at a light. When the light changed I stopped, putting both hands on the wheel figuring I could mess with the radio later, when the first of many odd things started to happen… The radio kept searching for a station until it landed on the local rock station that I liked. Now I knew from my old Geo that there was a seek button for the newer radios, but the Porsche didn't have one. That and the fact that I had been at the other side of the dial and it skipped all the other stations struck me as peculiar. It also seemed like the smooth purr of the engine was humming along with song playing. All in your head, Rach, I thought to myself.

I decided to go home and grab my gym bag and head to the earlier afternoon dance class at the gym. Other than work, this was my only social activity, and I reveled in every opportunity that I was able to go and dance. Dancing was my first passion in life; the sciences my second. Feeling a bit paranoid, I parked in front of the windows of the dance class so I could watch my car. I didn't want to have this one stolen as well. I ended up staying for two classes to work out my frustration from the day before and I felt immensely better afterwards. After class, I tossed my bag into the back of the car and crawled into the seat. I shut my eyes and inhaled deeply. The smell of sun dried leather and other car smells filled my nostrils and I felt strangely safe.

"Y' dance well, lil'lady."

I blinked out of my reverie and looked around. There was no one there. The parking lot was empty except for cars. I must be really tired, I thought. It had been a long and trying week, and maybe a little hallucination was a big hint that I needed to get some sleep.

The next few weeks went much better. Everything slipped back into its normal routine with the exception that I had drawn some notice from others in the garage that I was now driving a Porsche. The weekend was coming up and I decided to take him to a car wash and get him cleaned up, I thought to myself as I rode the elevator up. Him? When had I decided that the car was male? I had never thought of any of my previous vehicles as male or female. I shrugged it off as nothing and continued on my uneventful day.

On Fridays most of the office went out for drinks. Not being the social type, I went to my dance class and worked out all my kinks. I had parked in front of the window again to keep an eye on my car. Why was I paranoid of it being stolen? I must be getting an ego for driving a cute sports car. He was a sports car, after all. I pondered over the assigning a gender to an inanimate object, again. He, yes, he; there was no mistaking it, the car looked and felt like a he. I chuckled to myself as I went through the cooling down stretches as the class ended. Maybe I should name the car as well. Now there is an insane thought.

I gathered my gear and headed out to the parking lot. As I approached my car, something caught my attention. He shone under the parking lot lights. I had decided at work I was going to get him washed over the weekend, but he was sparkling clean now. I gently ran my fingers over the hood; over the same place I had touched while at the dealership. Not a speck of dirt or dust lay on his sleek body. Maybe someone at the garage cleaned him up? Opening the door to toss my bag into the back, I realized the once cracked and damaged leather seats were now perfect and supple. I looked around in utter disbelief. The car was definitely in better condition than it had been when I left work. What the hell is going on! Has the stress from the project really gotten to me? Cold fear gripped me. Other people in the labs who had stress-related problems ended up on administrative leave. Some of them were gone permanently. I decided I'd drive home and call the resident military doctor and set up an appointment. I drove home shaking, with thoughts about my future with the labs and my project flashing before my eyes.

"They'll take me off the project. My project, and put me on administrative leave for nerves and I'll lose my project to someone else," I moaned loudly.

"Y're not going mad there, girl."

I took my hands off the wheel and froze at hearing the voice again. The honk of a car honk snapped my eyes on the road. My car had turned off onto a side street, cutting off another vehicle in the process, and I had not touched the wheel. I started to panic and tried to regain control of the car. The wheel would not budge and I could not use the brakes. I tried the door handle getting more frantic by the minute. The lock wouldn't open. Petrified, I sat in the drivers seat and watched helplessly as the car turned off to another street and another. We were heading towards the wooded outskirts of town. Twenty quiet minutes passed as I sat in shock as the car drove itself. It finally stopped on top of a hill overlooking the labs. The engine quit and the door opened.

I stared out into the darkness.

"If y' would kindly take the exit t' your left, I could explain this better t' y'," it was the same melodic voice from before.

Gingerly stepping from the vehicle, and unsure if my legs could hold my weight; I staggered away from the open door. I will never forget what I saw next when I turned to look at the car. Two "hands" came out from the sides of the car, lurching the vehicle forward in a handspring motion. The sound of well-tuned pistons and gears rotating filled the air, the body twisting and turning, transforming before my eyes. It bounced off of its hands gracefully back onto two mechanical legs. What had been my Porsche sitting there a moment before was now a large robot figure striking a pose worthy of John Travolta.

I think that is when I blacked out.