Crossover with Iron Man
SERIES: Imperfection Deviation
AUTHOR: Macx
RATING: PG-13
DISCLAIMER: None of the characters belong to me, sadly. They are owned by people with a lot more money :)
Author's Voice of Warning (aka Author's Note):
The spell-checker said everything's okay, but you know how trustworthy those thingies are....
FEEDBACK: Loved
PLOT-BETA and SEEKER OF INCONSISTENCIES: Sapphire
GRAMMAR-BETA: okami_myrrhibis (can't say enough how much I appreciate it)
He had come to Earth millennia after Megatron's crash on this organic world. He had followed the trace left of his leader, the trace of the Allspark his leader had been pursuing, and Starscream's flight pattern. They all had led here.
It was a small planet, but rich in energy sources, and populated by a species that had not been heard of before. The species was technologically advanced enough to attempt space travel in a moderate way, but it was in no way equal to Cybertron.
But he was too late.
Too late to save his leader.
Too late for the Allspark.
Too late to change the course of history.
By the time of his arrival years had passed since Megatron's defeat and the Allspark's destruction. Without the cosmic cube, restoration of Cybertron was futile. Their homeworld depended on the alien cube and it was no more. Cybertron was dying and would probably be dead should he ever return. Dead like many of his comrades.
So he stayed on Earth, watching and waiting. He snuck into the humans' Internet, the web, their secret files, and their satellite surveillance. He sent out his spies to keep an eye on the surviving Autobots.
And he learned.
Of the Allspark shard. Of Megatron's final resting place. Of the accident that had fused the shard to a human. That had been the hardest file to get into and it had cost him dearly. His energon supplies had been so depleted, he had been unable to support the symbiotes for a while and had been left vulnerable. The files the humans kept were vague, barely containing any viable information, and he had felt an unaccustomed wave of frustration at the fact. He had sacrificed too much for so little intel.
He learned of the enemy's allies and kept tabs on them, though some were too well protected for his spies to remain long. The fact that one of his faction had defected to the enemy's side was of no matter to him. He would perish with Megatron's rebirth.
And he formed a plan.
It took a while to raise Megatron's body shell from the bottom of the Laurentian abyss, to restore circuits and repair damage. While the humans patrolled the area that had become a grave to many Decepticons, they couldn't be there all the time. Technology could be influenced and he had had little problem disabling the scanners and sensors, fooling them, as he had sunk to the bottom of the ocean and collected Megatron's body.
All in secret, all with no pressure or time limit. He had time.
He was patient.
His spies kept him well-informed, especially of the human he was interested in. Yes, he was protected, but no protection from a weak Autobot could keep him out of his hands. He called the drone to him, keeping him close. He would be useful.
The remaining problem was the fact that he didn't know much about possible remains of the Allspark within the human. Will Lennox didn't venture out into the open a lot and infiltrating the Autobot base was foolish for now. What he had were blurry images and the fact that the human hadn't been killed by the shard, which could easily have sliced him in two.
So maybe remnants of the shard were still there.
It was his hope.
Turning to his delicate network of spies, he opened a channel.
"Lazerbeak, report."
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It was a glorious summer day. The sky was an impossible bright blue, there were hardly any clouds, and the sun's rays were reflected off the ice patches that covered the rough and gray-brown flecked terrain. Here or there green showed. Flowers were rare, but they existed in the brief period of rather warm conditions up here in the north. It was a short, intense spectacle of colors until the snow came down again and ice covered the ground in a thick blanket.
Even now little flurries could be seen, mostly in the afternoon, and those who lived here year round had told Sam that autumn was coming with winter not far behind.
Sam Witwicky, PhD PhD, part of a group of scientists who had been hard at work at getting the Ghost-2 prepared for their second launch, gazed out the window and enjoyed the landscape in its currently colorful variations as long as it lasted.
He had come here a week ago since preparations now were reaching the final stage. Not only had the Ghost-2 been rebuilt – keeping her primary design mostly as the first model had been, just larger -- but a launch window had been found. A month from now they would go into space a second time, and this time it wasn't just a trial run. This time was for real. They had a mission.
Sam smiled a little to himself, feeling the apprehension and nervousness again. He knew the ship was perfect. He knew she would fly like a dream. She had to. Tony Stark had made sure all his changes had been implemented as well and while some on the team had been doubtful, the latest batch of tests had shown just how perfect handling had become. Barbara Tanner, the Ghost-2's pilot, had commented on it multiple times. She was in love with the new version.
One more month and they would be up there, Sam mused, gazing at the blue sky. Beyond the Earth's atmosphere, in space, heading for the moon where the Ark was still kept hidden. And how cool was that?
He'd happily spend those four weeks in the middle of nowhere. He had a job to do here and he was good at it.
Sam felt Bumblebee's agreement float through him and he smiled more. Bumblebee had come along, just like Hot Rod and both would accompany their human friends to the Autobot ship. Tony had buried himself in one of the labs in the underground base and hadn't surfaced for three days until Hot Rod had pulled him out by force.
So far, Tony was still travelling back and forth between the base and LA. He had a company to run and a cover to keep. Former Secretary of Defense – now chairman of the board of directors of Stark Industries – John Keller, in alliance with Colonel Jim Rhodes and Tony's personal assistant Pepper Potts, did his best to keep Tony's schedule more or less clear, but now and then the CEO of a multi billion dollar company had to make an appearance.
Ironhide and Will Lennox had left for Maine the day Sam had been told about the new launch window and how they now had to prepare the Ghost-2 to make that window. Two days after that Sam was in the high Arctic, underground, hip deep in work. Jazz had arrived three days after that, with Barricade, much to everyone's apprehension and surprise – except Sam's. While the former Decepticon had never officially involved himself in the project, he wasn't in the way either. Actually, he was helping, mostly with refresher courses for both the pilot and commander of the Ghost-2.
Snow flurries drifted down from the sky and Sam frowned a little at the now more numerous clouds. It was nothing worrisome and it didn't hinder work, but he had planned on getting out – even if it meant bundling up – and watch the wildlife around the base.
Choosing the high Arctic hadn't been a matter of personal preferences or good weather conditions. It had been more pragmatic. The first Ghost had been built and sent into space here over forty years ago. The operations center was still here and it had only taken some refurbishment, dusting off the shelves and installing a whole new set of greatly advanced computer systems.
The place had looked like an old and hollow sore underneath the deceivingly innocent surface of the Arctic. It had been and still was a difficult to reach spot; rugged and wild and even the Inuit hunters never set foot here. The wind howled on a good day and threatened to tear even the rocks from their foundations throughout the bad ones. Summer was brief, autumn went seamlessly into winter, and only a few more adventurous souls went for walks outside in the brief weeks of tamer nature.
Sam loved the solitary landscape. It gave him time to think, to get away from the machines that his technopathic mind so easily logged onto, and it was nice to be just himself with his thoughts and no runaway technopathy.
The base as such appeared like a large animal hunkered down to wait out the never-ending bad weather and the old launching site had been partially reclaimed by the local fauna and flora. Nothing had changed all that much since the last time Sam had been here. Appearances were kept perfectly.
Sam had never felt like he was boxed in or trapped underground. Everything was spacious and open, especially where Autobots might move through, and he had shared quarters with Bumblebee – like Hot Rod had bullied Tony into a place where the mech could fit, too. At least Tony called it 'bullying'. Hot Rod called it practical and needed. Even here he was Tony's guardian and he took his job seriously.
Stark grumbled and snarked and groused about it, but Sam had yet to see him actually trying to ditch his guardian and make off on his own.
The cover of a science station was still kept and the group of diligently working agents who played the parts of the scientists still did everything to maintain it perfectly. They went out, took readings, set up meters, studied the weather patterns, flocking birds, small mammals and whatnot. The rest was all done underground.
Sam drew himself out of his musings and turned back from the window. He still had mountains of work to do and he would have to start some time. He also had wanted to check in on Tony since breakfast, but he hadn't found the time so far. The little break had evened out his mind and he felt well enough to dive back into work now.
Bumblebee met him on the lower level and accompanied him to the lab.
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About twenty miles outside the Arctic base, hidden from the sensors and alarms, a sleek, deadly looking machine moved stealthily through the rough weather. Red eyes surveyed the nothingness that surrounded him. A Cybertronian would call the form 'raw beast mode'. It wasn't even a protoform. It was adapted to the environment, but not as camouflaged as the mechs already on the planet. Despite its designation as a spy module, it rarely employed transscanning. Should deep camouflage be required, steps would be taken. Right now it was a waste of energon.
Finally the creature lifted its head, scanning the sky.
"Lazerbeak, report," an inflectionless voice transmitted over the secure frequency that connected him to his symbiote brothers and their master.
"The humans are preparing their ship. Launch date unchanged."
He received an affirmative, then the frequency fell silent again.
Lazerbeak remained where he was, waiting.
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Tony had never felt so good. It was almost ridiculous considering how woozy he had been just twenty-four hours ago. The long hours in business conferences, shareholder meetings and talking to various military heads, coupled with the fact that he hadn't really seen his bed, or his cot, for a longer period of time because he kept working on his armor or models of space ships in his spare time, had played together. He had caught a few moments of dozing on the plane, but since he refused to shut off the Extremis all the data had run through his mind continuously. In the end Hot Rod had put his foot down and told him in no uncertain terms that he wouldn't let Tony fly to the Arctic base unless he had slept at least eight hours.
It had been close to ten in the end, a testament to his level of exhaustion, and Tony had refused to acknowledge how badly he had needed it. Hot Rod hadn't said a word, neither had Pepper, but he knew they were thinking the same.
Right now he felt like he could move mountains with his bare hands. Or shovel through the Arctic snow field with a household plough. Mainlining coffee for the past three hours had nothing to do with it. Honestly. Not a thing. And they made one hell of a good coffee here. One of the science assistants had mentioned Blue Hawaii and Tony knew how horribly expensive the stuff was. And good. Damn good. He had sent Pepper a note to pack up a big crate of the stuff and ship it here.
Working on a project had never gone so smoothly like in the last few days before his arrival here. All the puzzle pieces were clicking into place at last and with the launch window coming closer and closer, Tony knew they had to.
The Extremis was a huge asset. He could multi-task like no one else, and combined with Sam's technopathy, the two men were making progress. Finch Tomczyk, Laura Maitland and the team were their back-up and with Jazz and Bumblebee green-lighting new installments, Stark was confident that they could make the launch window easily.
Someone placed a plate of sandwiches next to him and Tony looked up, shooting Sam a small smile. The whole pot of coffee was very welcome, too.
"You're running on all cylinders," Sam remarked.
Tony shrugged, drinking the hot liquid. It tasted like heaven. And intense. Like jolting his nerves even more awake.
"When I'm on a roll, I'm on a roll." He frowned as he discovered that he was alone. "Where's everyone?"
Sam chuckled. "You really are absorbed once you get working. Finch called Laura away to test some of the new developments you made. Jazz is talking to Walker. Barricade is still in the simulation chamber with Barb. The others are going over specs from the Ark one more time with Bumblebee."
"Oh. Right. Okay."
Tony let the fingers of his right hand fly over the keyboard as he held the mug with his left, sipping at it. The wire model of the Ghost-2 and some of the parts he had 'removed' twisted and changed and then realigned.
It was the finished model, the one that was currently in the last stages of assembly several levels above them. He switched to the model of the Ark and Sam leaned over his shoulder, studying the Autobot vessel.
The second flight of the Ghost-2 wasn't just for a brief visit. This was a real mission with real work. They had a week to make it and then return.
"You think this will work?" Sam asked quietly.
Tony was silent for a moment, then nodded. "Yeah. She might look like a heap of junk, but it's alien junk and she's still running. They didn't dump some wreck on us. The Ark might be old and outdated by Cybertronian standards, but for us she's worth more than all the defense satellites of this planet."
Sam had to agree. Especially since according to Jazz and all the tech specs they had studied, turning the Ark into a surveillance station was no great feat. Katie had jokingly called it their future moonbase, the dream of all science fiction authors out there, and it was true. Plans were already in the making to station a crew up there permanently in the future, using the Ghost-2 as a shuttle.
But that was the future.
Now was now, and they had to get to the Ark first, start work on powering her up and get everything running, then they could talk about what to do next.
Sam's comm beeped.
"Meeting," he sighed.
Tony smirked. "Have fun," was all he said before he immersed himself in work again.
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The morning of the launch had started with three inches of snow that had come down overnight. Mother Nature had dumped the whiteness on them without any regard for the mission, it seemed. People underground didn't really care about what happened outside, unless they had to go there. Sam didn't mind snowstorms as long as he didn't have to be outside, experiencing one first hand. Sitting in a warm base and watching the snow outside was preferable.
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Tony, in his Iron Man armor, stuck out like a sore thumb among the astronauts of the Ghost-2. Their space suits were leaning more toward the conservative NASA style, though there had been modifications. There was less bulk, for one. And the color was a more silvery gray.
Helmet in one hand, Tony watched the team around Commander Kyle Walker assemble. He had checked their background himself, even though he knew they already had been approved and had flown the first mission. Maybe it was his paranoia, maybe it was just him being careful. All had checked out okay. Not much of a surprise. Banachek was kind of tight when it came to such things.
Flight preparations were done professionally and without much fuss. Tony stood back and watched everyone, smiled at Bowman, who had the honor of flying the Ghostbuster again, and was told to keep an eye on WiFi. The little cell phone mech was dumped into his hands as Bowman walked back to the pre-flight checks, and WiFi looked indignantly at him.
"Hey, don't blame me. I don't get to be in on the action either."
WiFi chirped.
"Sure, I get to fly, but so do you. Don't tell me you're not in the cockpit of the Ghostbuster."
The Nokia's optics flashed and he seemed to puff out his little chest. Tony smiled.
"See?"
He beeped accusingly.
"Hey, space is not all it's cracked up to be."
Another beep.
"Then again, yeah, I'm lying." He chuckled.
And how strange was it to talk to a sentient cell phone? Actually, not all too much. Tony had become fluent in WiFi-speak, which was mainly because he used the Extremis to help him translate the chirrups and whistles. Bowman had no such luxury, but the captain had grown so accustomed to the Nokia's language, he simply knew what his little friend wanted.
WiFi chirped again and settled on his palm, watching everything with interested optics.
It was an hour later that Bowman joined them again and the little Nokia warbled a greeting, though it sounded rather miffed.
"I'll make it up to you," the captain promised.
WiFi transformed and he slipped the phone into his pocket. Tony smirked a little.
"Hey, not a word," Bowman warned, grinning nevertheless. "You have your own problems, pal."
"My 'problem' is a different one from yours."
"Probably. So, nervous?"
"No, not really."
Tony was excited, but not nervous. He had spent the last night tinkering with the suit, talking to Hot Rod, and in the morning he had tried avoiding Pepper, which hadn't worked. She wasn't here in person, but that didn't stop her from sending him text messages or emails, sometimes forwarding all the junk mail just to give him an idea how pissed off she was. He knew she didn't approve of his 'idiot adventure', but she had stopped telling him so at every corner.
Hot Rod would be part of the team going up to the Ark, which was mollifying Pepper only a little. Aside from the human crew and the two passengers, Tony and Sam, Bumblebee and Jazz had been chosen because of size and weight matters.
"Everything's ready," Sam interrupted his thoughts.
Tony turned and bit back a smart remark about Sam's armor. They had developed the armor from the Iron Man suit and while it looked basically like Tony's, it wasn't at all like his. Sam had chosen a different helmet design, one with a visor band instead of two eye slits, a rounder head design, and a different color scheme. It was the color scheme that had Tony teasing his younger friend for days. Yellow and black. Bumblebee's. Could the kid make it any more obvious?
Hot Rod in turn had teased Tony back about changing his color scheme to red and yellow – instead of gold -- to match the Iron Man armor. Tony had threatened to make his life hell if he ever did. That he found a model of the possible paint job in his email had only let him rant about how stupid a flame design looked on an Audi for about an hour. Hot Rod had enjoyed the snark. Tony had to confess he had, too.
Sam's armor was capable of flight, like Tony's, but the arc reactor was installed inside the collapsible suit. There weren't as many offense weapons, but the same defense, and then some. The armor had been constructed to suit Sam's technopathic abilities, so in a way it gave him immediate access to everything with just a thought. The computer program running the more complicated HUD had been adjusted to Sam's personally. Unlike Tony, who had Jarvis uploaded into the suit, Sam had no backseat rider.
Tony nodded now and followed Sam to where the crew of the Ghost-2 was waiting for their shuttle to get them to the space ship. The Autobots were already on their way and probably loaded into the cargo hold. Bowman was waiting for the Ghostbuster.
And the launch window was coming up.
tbc...
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Important Author's Note:
I'm
trying to use a mix of what-might-be-movie-Soundwave and G1. In my
mind's eye he looks like the movie version I've seen as a toy. I think
he looks really cool.
I call the cassettes 'symbiotes' because of it
8He isn't a tape player ;) Hm, that makes me wonder what Bay calls
them...). I'm also using all of them. All he ever had attributed to
him, so pleae bear with me in case of confusing names. Two of them I
never encountered myself because I didn't read the comics. I wikied his
spies :P
And yes, they talk. All of them. While I can't remember Ravage, Lazerbeak and co ever to speak (unlike Rumble and Frenzy), I gave them voices here.
Don't hit me :) Hope you enjoy it nonetheless!