The Auto-morphs

Yes-sir this is my first attempt at writing one of these things, be gentle.

They freaked, literally; one instant they were shooting at a group of convoy trucks and the next a MGS Striker appeared and fired a 120mm smooth bore round at them. Little did they know that it was all an accident; they just ran, those that could still run of course. The turret on the striker swiveled about as if looking for something to shoot at; in all actuality the individual actually transformed into the striker and was having his own mental infraction trying to figure out what was going on. Ol' Taurus Dogg was just about to have his usual panic attack when he accidentally triggered a different system in the new form he had just managed to get into; the rest of the mechanics and the Air Force brass in the convoy were more than a little startled when the striker began the transformation into a bipedal robot. Normally this type of mutation occurs when the subject reaches puberty; but his parents' convinced him at a very young age that this was evil and should not be pursued, over time he forgot his Cybertronian heritage. Now there was no way of hiding it; oh the forces knew he was a mutant, the Don't ask, Don't tell policy applied to him.

"Sarge!" he yelled, "what's going on?"

"How the hell should I know?" The Sergeant yelled, "Keep Shooting!"

He knew how the weapons were supposed to work; but this was way different, he looked at an insurgent with an RPG and really wished he was back in the truck. A bright flash appeared on his left, and the fifty-cal machine gun there literally removed the weapon from the guys shoulder, through his head. He remembered thinking that brains actually were pink as the body flew back with recoil; he sneezed and the 120mm cannon went off again.

"My bad." He apologized.

The battle over he looked at the man who was now much smaller than himself; he looked at the door of the bullet riddled truck and scratched his skull plate.

"Um...now what?"

"You turn back into the Striker!"

"Oh...cool, um...how do I do that?"

"You don't know?"

"Duh...I wouldn't have asked if I knew!" Dogg growled.

They stood there for an uneasy moment before Dogg triggered the transformation; steel on steel, the clicking of metals, an eight wheeled APC with 120mm cannon settled on all four axles.

"You do know you're out of the Air Force now." the Sergeant growled.

"Yes sir, I have words to say to my parents." Dogg cranked his engine, "Um...let me guess, point."

"You do have the bigger gun."

It took all of two weeks to drum him out; even after he made it back to his human form. None of his bunk-mates wanted anything to do with him; for two weeks he went through his own private version of hell. He never got the chance to confront his parents'; their house burnt to the ground by an "unexplained explosion" and he had no one to pick him up at Tinker AFB. The board showed him leniency, uncommon to mutants, and gave him an honorable discharge by reason of the last living heir; he leaned against the light pole and fought back the tears, he was alone. He saw the new Dodge Challenger and looked over his shoulder to see if anyone was watching; he touched the car and shifted into his robot form, and then he added the challenger's body parts. He instantly grew to eighteen feet tall and jet black; he forced the transformation and drove the two-hundred miles to the small Texas town he grew up in. He stopped in front of a burnt out shell of a house just off of the highway; the house was a total wreck, but the barn and the workshop were still intact. He drove up to the workshop and was about to open the doors when a police cruiser pulled in behind him and blooped it's siren. The cop got out of his car and carefully approached the jet black car; he made sure he touched the rear of the car. Taurus opened the car door to show the officer there was no one inside.

"Dammit Jak-Jak you scared the crap out of me." She laughed.

"Jack Jackson can do this too?" Taurus asked.

"Dogg?"

"Yeah, it's me Shirley." He sighed.

"Wow an Auto-morph!" She laughed.

"So this is...common?"

"Around here, but don't tell anyone outside of town." Shirley said, "It's kind of a townie thing."

"Huh," he thought to himself, "I thought I was the only one."

"Pbbbt..." she laughed through her pressed lips, "Not by a long-shot." Shirley laughed.

"Who else can...do this and what the Samuel T. hell is an auto-morph?" Taurus asked.

"Can you...become a robot?" She asked.

He transformed into his robot mode and knelt to look at her.

"Dang girl, you sure got pretty." He grinned, "Wanna ride?"

"Maybe later, there are three big bunches of your kind here; Jak-Jak's bunch, Albert's bunch, and Hound's bunch, they do all the patrolling in this area." Shirley explained, "They are quite rowdy sometimes."

"What are they looking for?"

"Oh...deception cons or something like that." Shirley waved it off, "It's not like they'll find another one."

Taurus scratched his head and looked around; there was nothing here for him to fall back on.

"Does Phil still need help?"

"No, Jak-Jak is working there; when he isn't being molested by girls or driving on patrol." She smiled, "In fact I think he's there now."

"That's where I'm headed." Taurus said.

"I'll introduce you, Jack still thinks someone is out to get him."

"Lead on." He smiled.

A few minutes later they pulled into the shop and found Jack eating lunch with Patty, the Macy twins, and his twin sister Jamie; they locked on to the Challenger and Jack's eyes glowed a fierce hazel color.

"Easy Jack, do you remember Taurus Dogg?" Shirley asked.

Jack nodded.

"Still can't talk huh?" The Challenger said, "Come on boy, let's go for a spin!"

Jack waved his hands at his sister.

"He says, not until he's finished with lunch." Jamie's hazel eyes were glowing too. "Why don't you join us?"

"I will be naked."

"Wear one of Jack's coveralls." Jamie said.

"Jack, I am hungry...I think."

"He's new at this." Patty laughed.

"Jack, get Bulldog a pair of your coveralls." Jamie said, "There is no need to be rude."

Jack shot his twin a look, "I know you don't trust him; but there are four other autos than you here and five to one odds look bad in everyone's eyes." Jamie said.

"Yeah Jack, the guy just lost his parents; give him a break, and I don't mean his arm." Mandy said.

"Do hurry, the food is getting cold." Misty pouted.

Jack retrieved the oversized coverall from his locker and walked to the challenger; he whistled, it had all the amenities one would expect from Dodge, he nodded his approval. Taurus transformed and assumed his human form; he quickly hopped into the suit and walked across the gravel to join the meal. It was Texas barbecue, he ate too much.

"Ooh misery." Taurus groaned.

"But it is a good misery though." Jamie laughed, "Hound did the same thing."

"BURP, 'scuse me." Taurus groaned.

"Well howdy Taurus." Phil said loudly.

"Phil, good to see you bud." Taurus said.

"You home to stay?" Phil asked.

"Well yeah, it's not like I had much of a choice." Taurus groaned.

"Well It's good to have you home." Phil said, "It's been a while."

"Yeah, I just want to see how the town has changed."

"Jack, take him on the tour." Phil said.

Jack immediately transformed and spun out into the gravel; the jet-black Dodge Stealth had a good quarter mile on Taurus before the Challenger, but he soon caught up. Followed by a red Mustang and two Minis. They roared through town and stopped at a warehouse.

"The plant closed down?"

"They kind of had too Bull." Jamie said, getting out of the black Mini with white tiger stripes.

"What happened?" Taurus asked.

"Gearhead happened." One of the twins said.

"He blasted a Deception-con and tore off it's head." the other one said. "The chassis is still inside."

"Wow...so why are they after you?"

"Jack and I don't know; but we'll figure it out." Jamie growled.

Mark felt the aircraft jar on landing; the giant C-5 Galaxy was more comfortable than the Strategical Refueling aircraft they flew over on. Still, no one would have anything to do with him, even though he saved most of their lives a few days ago. The plane pulled in to a band playing and a bunch of cheers; those that had something to cheer about. Their unit lost most of the men when the sickness hit; it tore the Arab world apart, but not before they were attacked. Mark Smite had no one to greet him; he was all alone in the world not particularly because he wanted to be, it just worked out that way. His parents died in a mysterious fire that actually blew the house to kindling; they were attacked on the way to the aircraft. Several insurgents popped up behind a wall and began firing at them; they took out a M1A1 with an Rocket Propelled Grenade (RPG) and the people in the trucks piled out to take cover. Mark hit the back of the tank and waited for the morons to reload; the tank was cool to his touch, but hot to others, he was instantly transformed into a very large robot with a very big gun. Mark was frightened, and every weapon on his chassis fired in the direction of the insurgents; those that could still run, ran. Of course they were followed by several 50 caliper machine gun rounds. A couple of bullets bounced off the back of his armor; he spun and thankfully pulled the weapon up before tearing apart his own troops.

"Sarge!" Mark yelled, "What's going on?"

"How the hell should I know?" The Sargent asked. "What the hell are you doing?"

"I dunno!"

"Shit Smite, how are we going to get back to the airfield with that tank in the way?" The First Sargent asked.

"Wait, let me do something." Mark said, pushing the disabled tank to the side.

"Mark, you've fucked up." the sergeant said.

"I didn't know I could do this!" Mark yelled back at them; "If I did I forgot!"

everyone got up to get off of the plane; Mark just sat there and let them file out in front of him. He finally had the wherewith-all to change back into his human form; luckily someone had an extra set of pants to give him. He stepped off of the plane and walked straight to the hangar; no one greeted him, no one cared, and quite frankly, neither did he. The First Sergeant stopped him with a cold beer in her hand.

"I don't drink Mam." Mark sighed.

"Perfect time to start."

"When do you want me to report for duty?" he asked.

"What, uh...you're being released because you're the last Smite." she said, "I so don't want to see you here again."

"I will clean out my locker then." He growled.

"You can do that..." he walked off, "later?"

He walked straight to the lockers and knelt to get into his; he pulled out several items that he packed away for safe keeping. They were about to retrofit an F-5 dual engine small fighter into a T-38 trainer; they put it a little too close to the lockers.

"Hey Smite!" A woman yelled.

He stood straight up and banged the back of his head onto the wing; he cursed to himself about being so gullible and walked out of the hangar with his things.

"Where is Smite going?" An airman asked.

"Sarnie, weren't you there when he transformed into the tank? Damn girl he took point after that and drove us into the airbase." The Senior Airman said.

"So he saved our worthless lives; he needs to be thanked." Sarnie said.

"You thank him, I just want the freak to be as far from me as possible."

"Bitch." Sarnie spat.

She followed him outside to see his blank form standing there trying to figure out what to do next.

"Mark?"

He turned his head and looked at her with his hazel eyes glowing dimly; "You really should do what your friend says; stay away from the freak."

"She's a bitch." She said, "I see whom I like."

A pair of bulges pushed out of his back as he gained girth and height; a pair of short wings tore the T shirt he wore and his pants literally exploded off of him.

"Do me a small favor, please." The eighteen foot tall robot said, "Pack my junk and send it to me please."

"No problem Mark, I will start today."

"Something feels different, my form, it is different; how the fuck do I control this shit?" He snarled.

"I don't know but I heard of some rumors that there are giant robots in Texas." She said, "Maybe they can help."

"Gee, that's where I am going too."

"Hold on...I know...that's a...F-5!"

"You're hosing me?"

"You just banged your head on that fighter; maybe it's what you touch!"

"Maybe...ooh I can probably fly!"

"See you soon." She smiled.

He fiddled with the thought of cranking the twin engines on his back; a low groan was heard, and the engines fired like they were meant too. He looked to the sky and sighed, "I can fly." The afterburners kicked and he shot into the sky; he had an idea how his jet transformation would work so he tossed his bag and caught it in the cockpit the first try.

"Texas, huh, well...why not?" he thought to himself, "Home is where the bots are."

Hound and Big Momma were laughing; Big Momma was laughing in hysterical anger and Hound was just laughing at her frustration.

"Hound!"

"Hey I am not the one who tried to take a thirty mile per hour curve at ninety; I get to laugh at stupidity." He said.

"Get me out of this!" She screamed.

"Calm down first." Hound said, "I know what time of the month it is and I don't want to get the chrome kicked off of me."

"I am not going to kick your chrome." Big Momma swore.

"Oh alright." Hound smiled.

Hound was a huge transformation of a Chevy Avalanche; Big Momma was a Harley Fat Bob that was stripped down and tricked out as a monster chopper. Hound put his winch cable around her chassis and fought his way free of the Red River mud; he transformed and pulled big momma out sideways digging up mud in front of her fat wheels. This did nothing more than further enhance the bike-bot's already sour mood. As soon as Hound removed his tow cable she transformed and slapped the larger bot.

"The next time I'll let you sink to your fucking seat." Hound growled.

"Sorry baby, I am not in a good mood." She groaned, "I thought female bots didn't have periods."

"No, but your human form is being torn up by one; I told you to stay at the base and rest."

"But Jak-Jak's females don't..."

"Yes they do, that screwball will stay on patrol for a week if he could just to stay away from the twins." Hound laughed, "Now, let's get you cleaned up."

"Hound..." Big Momma said seductively, "What the fuck?"

Hound barely got turned around before the bike bot yanked him off his feet.

Smite flew in and saw a secluded road near the town but close to the river; he had been flying low-level since North Carolina and he was tired. He didn't notice the two bots near the river; one was covered in red clay and the other was red, perfect camouflage. He rolled in and extended his flaps and flared large enough not to realize the 'runway' was six hundred feet too short; landing gear down, speed at one-fifty, heavy flare, put the landing gear on the road just in front of the curb bouncing the small fighter into the air and waking him out of his droning state. He realized that he was going way too fast and tried to brake hard; he wasn't slowing fast enough, so he transformed and hoped for the best. His feet hit the asphalt and dug in; he rolled head over heels busting his windscreen and tearing off half of his split vertical stabilizer. He rolled past the two bots and looked at them as his back hit the opposite bank of the river.

"Ow." he said.

Big Momma lowered her energon cannon and blew a hole in the bank just above his crotch which was skyward since he was upside down; Mark scrambled to get to his feet and take cover. Another blast made him freeze; it appeared that both bots were armed. Mark raised his hands and turned to face the attackers.

"He's a Deception-con!" The female yelled.

"Woah Momma, look at his eyes!" The male yelled.

"They...they're the same as yours." She said.

"Yeah, what is your name bot?" Hound spat.

"Uh...Mark."

"Mark...?" The female growled.

"Last name breeder." Hound growled.

"Smite, Mark Smite."

"Slaphappy?" Hound asked.

"Yeah...I know your voice, sorry about your folks." Mark said.

"What about my folks?" Hound asked.

"They died last spring in a tornado." Mark said, "I sent you a card from Iraq."

"What did it say?"

"Dude, you'll pull through."

"You have no idea." Hound's arm transformed back into his hand.

"Dude, Tweedy Field is long enough for an F-5." Big Momma said.

"Sorry, I thought this would be a better choice; I was obviously wrong." Mark groaned. "I thought my kind of people were living in hiding."

Mark walked over to where the other bots were standing and got flattened by a sucker punch from the chopper.

"That's for making me lubricate myself." She growled.

"Hi Angie." Mark groaned.