H-095
Like asteroids descending upon our planet, the outer bodies of six Autobot rebels burned up upon entering the Earth's atmosphere. Much like asteroids, each metallic body had its own trajectory that sent the Cybertronian survivors on different paths. Paths which would leave each Autobot with very different first impression of the blue and green planet they had sought refuge for.
Coming in hot, the Autobot designated as H-095 hurtled towards Sector 7's base, crash landing on one of the Jeeps parked on the outside of the compound.
Stunned by the impact, H-095 adjusted his optics and honed in on a human with an annoyed expression on his face.
"Another alien robot from outer space. Why am I not surprised?" Agent Burns remarked with amusement to the Autobot laying on top of a crushed Jeep.
But this was no laughing matter. With no active energon signal nearby, H-095 had no way of tracking of finding his friends.
"Please, you must help me find the Autobots." H-095 got up from the flattened Jeep and pleaded, growing uneasy at the situation he found himself in.
"I don't know where your robot buddies are." Burns told him unhelpfully and began walking away to file a damage report. That would be a fun surprise for his superiors.
"You said you encountered one of my kind. Do you know of their whereabouts? H-095 asked again, reluctant to let his only source of intel leave. Without Optimus and the others, he would have to rely on unlikely allies.
"Bumblebee? Haven't seen him since he destroyed the Decepticons." Burns recalled his last encounter with Bumblebee, the day before. If anyone knew what the bot was up to next, it sure as hell wasn't him.
"So, what's your name soldier?" Burns asked H-095, when his optics betrayed a hint of disappointment.
"My name is H-095."
"Why don't I call you, Hound? Because that's kind of what you were doing before. You were hounding me." Burns gently broke it to Hound that he had been questioning a lost cause with him.
Hounding: harass, persecute, or pursue relentlessly. Hound searched up the definition of the word on the interconnected web and realized that he had irritated the first human he'd met on this planet.
Optics falling with sadness, Burns felt a twinge a guilt for giving Hound his honest opinion. "Don't do that, you look like a kicked puppy."
"What's a puppy?"
"It's a pet. Don't you have them on your planet? You know what, nevermind."
Ratchet
Working at a junkyard at the end of the day, two teens—Dean and Marcus finished updating the junkyard inventory, as their supervisor Anne headed out early.
"Don't forget to turn off the lights and lock up when you're done, OK?"
"Okay." The boys said in unison and re-arranged forms to make it look like they were busy. Once Anne was gone, Dean put up his dirt streaked sneakers on a table used for organizing spare parts and had some Oreo cookies with Marcus. As the teens relished their unsupervised freedom, something bright falling from the sky caught Marcus' eye.
"Are those fireworks?" Marcus asked, spotting a glare of light from the reflection in a window from the corner of his eye.
"No, man. It looks like an asteroid heading right for us!" Dean looked towards the window and exclaimed. Or was it a space shuttle straight out of Star Wars? Dean couldn't wait to find out.
Now in range of the junkyard, the celestial object plummeted into a junk pile with a deafening crash, making the boys cover their ears. After mustering the courage to go outside, Dean shined a flash light on a smouldering junk pile and a 20 foot robot standing beside it.
"Oh...my...God. Is it a terminator?" Marcus whispered, as if lowering his voice had a chance of making the potential T-800 robot not hear him.
While the boys discussed how having blue optics meant he was friendly, Ratchet conducted an internal diagnostic, which read: No damage sustained, on his display.
"Hey, mister Robot can you take that engine off the pile?" Dean asked Ratchet, to prove his hunch and pointed to an engine on top of a junk pile, otherwise unreachable without Ratchet's help.
"We want to make some money on the side... for our families." Marcus added to make Dean's request more convincing. Did robots even have families? Or were they just models off the manufacturing line? Marcus wondered and hoped Ratchet would be kind enough to help them.
The request seemed harmless enough. Ratchet thought and picked up an engine in near perfect condition from the pile and dropped it near the boys' feet. "Will this do?"
"Dude, that's rad!"
Happy to have been of service, Ratchet transformed into a Cybertronian ambulance and drove away to meet up with Optimus Prime and the rest of the Autobots. Leaving the boys with some thoughts of their own.
"Did you see that?! He turned into an ambulance!" Dean exclaimed, overjoyed at witnessing a giant robot turn into an ambulance.
"I want a toy like that."
J-472
Surrounded by beaches with beautiful views of the ocean, tranquil and lush forests and parks nearby, Brighton Falls was a rich and inviting place, J-472 thought as he cruised through the town that was to be his new home for the time being.
J-472 understood the appeal of wanting to settle down in a place like this. What he didn't understand was the humans' displays sprayed on walls, like iron oxidizing on metal.
"Looks pretty jazzy." A boy remarked about the graffiti of the red eyed skeleton spinning a vinyl disc, while walking by with his friends.
'Jazzy.' J-472 liked the sound of that. It might even come in handy as new name. "I wonder what Ratchet will make of humans depicting the inside of their frames as art?" Jazz thought as he drove towards the rendez-vous point with his friends.
Author's Note: After I saw Bumblebee, I knew I wanted to come up with my own Autobot roster. This is their introduction. The Charlie & Bee reunion story will be in the last chapter.
