Jack and Arcee streaked across the dirt roads of North Carolina. The dust stained his jeans but Jack didn't care. There had never really been a deadline on their mission, but he couldn't shake the feeling that they were running out of time. Which is why he sent Mace, Flail, Vaccine, and the newly recruited Witch Doctor to Tennessee to retrieve Snipe, while he and Arcee retrieved Cleaver.
Mace had been bitterly disappointed that he wouldn't get to choose a partner for his friend but Jack assured him that he'd get a "cool" vehicle. Perhaps it was just as well they didn't bring Mace; Jack had caught him looking for auto shows in the eastern region.
"Bro."Arcee had taken to calling him that with gusto. Jack had simply sighed and went along. "We got a speed demon."
They had stopped at a red light ( apparently there were traffic rules in the near middle of nowhere) and beside them a flashy yellow car with black stripes pulled up alongside them, dust caked on it's expensive-looking tires. There wasn't a brand name, though Jack guessed it was a type of Camaro or Ubana. It seemed rather out of place here.
The car revved a challenge. Arcee's engine growled. "Come on, bro." she said eagerly. "I can choke his grill with his own dust."
"Arcee…"
The car revved again.
"Come on, Jack."
The light turned green.
"Oh, fin-aaaagggh!"
Wait- Primus started to caution.
Arcee whooped as the pebbles kicked up like a wayward shower under her churning wheels. They leapt forward so fast, Jack could have sworn they teleported. They sped along the road as a blur, the wind seeming to split for them. They were like gods, gods of the road. Except…
Except the car seemed like a road god too. Because at the speeds Arcee could reach and maintain, no normal car driver should have been able to keep up with them, let alone overtake them. But this one had.
Do you see the signal on his trunk? That's-
The Autobot symbol.
Yes. Wait a moment-
Images came unbidden in his head. Shooting at Vehicons. Bragging to the green bot he called brother.
Then more. Agony as the silver Warlord tore out his throat. Anger at the pity shown to him by his comrades. Acceptance as the orange and white medic, his faceplate drawn in exhaustion, pain, and shame, told him his translators would never work again.
Bumblebee. Scout of the Autobots. Known best for his speed. And an apparent fan of racing the unwitting citizens of earth.
"Hey…" Arcee had apparently realized something was wrong. "He's…fast."
"Arcee!" Jack barked "Evasive maneuver!"
Arcee didn't question him. Tires squealing, she leapt of the main road unto a side one. Bumblebee fishtailed around and came after them, apparently having come to the same conclusions as Jack.
Arcee pushed her engine hard, Jack helping her keep her balance on the muddy roads. Bumblebee roared after them, dirt, pebbles, and mud shooting out behind them.
"Enough of this," Arcee snarled suddenly. "We're warriors of Primus. We don't run.
Twisting around she transformed, sun gleaming off the expansion of soft protoform and strong armor. Jack leapt off her, rolling and coming to a crouch on the side of the road.
Standing tall and proud, Arcee glared at the Bumblebee, who'd come to a stop about ten yards away, still in vehicle mode. "What do you want?"
The scout transformed swiftly and glared back, blue optics narrowed, face guard set./I could ask the same/ he responded hostilely.
Arcee's glare melted into confusion. "What?"
/You heard me,/ the scout barked, or rather, chirped. /Who are you? You're not an Autobot./ He seemed to squint before remarking, somewhat grudgingly, /You don't seem to be a Decepticon either. But you're trespassing on Autobot protected space./ He puffed up importantly. /What is your designation?/
Jack heard it all perfectly. Arcee, apparently, did not. "…What?"
It appears her language code in preset to English. The poor sparkling can only speak Cybertronian.
"He asked who were are, and what are we doing here," Jack translated.
"You understand him?"
/You understand me?/
"Yes. As to who we are," he turned to Bumblebee, "that's of no concern to you. "
/Uh, yeah./ the scout snapped back to attention. /Yeah, it is./
Mace roared down the streets of Tennessee, Flail's powerful engine snarling as the radio's rock song rattled his six hundred thousand dollar Cybertronian mystically enhanced frame. Vaccine and Witch Doctor thundered above, though one would be hard pressed to see them. Among the gifts given by Primus, a stealth skin was apparently included.
Mace couldn't wait to see Snipe. She was a pretty gal, with a tongue like poison. The girl everyone wanted, but couldn't have. The girl that Mace would have like to meet in his lifetime. Not that he was going to be making any advances or anything. She'd lost her brother less than a month ago; her twin as a matter of fact. She was probably still grieving.
"We're here, Flail announced, pulling up to a normal looking condo, and miraculously finding a place to park. Not an easy feat for the huge vehicle.
The condo had a large roof, allowing Witch Doctor to land. It was three stories, with Snipe on the third. Vaccine was waiting by her door, when Mace came up, three stairs at a time. He was pleased to find he wasn't the least out of breath.
"Ready?" Mace grinned at his thin friend. Vaccine merely nodded.
They knocked. A beat passed, before the door opened. A man with fiery red hair and broad shoulders stood in the doorway. He blinked at them in surprise.
"Henry? Leroy?" Alroy "Cleaver" McDonald scratched his head. "What are you two doing here?"
Mace looked at Vaccine. Vaccine looked at Mace. "F***ck."
Bumblebee had needed a break from the oppressive, depressive atmosphere of the base. So, he'd gone to the ground bridge, typed in a random set of coordinates, and sped off. The response to his departure, or lack therefore of, spoke volumes. Ratchet was too weary to even yell at him.
He'd wandered the roads for a few hours breaking several laws, trying to et rid of the anger, the despair. They were the last of their race, and it was all the Decepticon's fault. Fowler brought more and more depressing news each week: the government wanted too much of them, the 'Cons were getting bolder. Even the team was starting to get divided. Chromia and Elita-1 were going out of their way to avoid Ratchet, who in turn, was severely anxious yet also very nervous to talk to them about the little fact that they had the best chance of continuing their race. Sure the other mechs could carry, but Ratchet, Optimus, and Ironhide were the only Sires.
Besides, for a mech to carry required sparking, and no one wanted to connect so closely when there was a chance of that bond being severed at any time.
What they needed was a victory, some inspiration. And Bumblebee was sure that if this was a neutral, they could have some new firepower on their side.
The problem was the human.
This femme clearly saw her "bro" as her leader. And what was troubling was that the human understood him. The femme would insist on taking the human along, and Cybertronian, their one secret, their safe language, would be useless. You couldn't have a private conversation around government officials if the officials knew that someone could translate.
"Look, how about you just forget you saw us?" the femme was talking again-in human English, the primary language of this world. That too was troubling. How come she couldn't understand him? There was the chance her voice box was damaged like his, but then there were no scars. Now that he thought about it, he didn't see any scars anywhere. It was like she had just come from the Well.
This was fishy. Bumblebee decided it was best to let Ratchet and Optimus know about this.
/I'm going to have to ask you to come with me./
The human lifted his chin. "Why?"
/You're trespassing./ Bumblebee snapped.
"I don't see a sign," the human smirked at him, reclining against the femme's leg.
Bumblebee had enough. He cast his optics around, and spotted just of the road the remains of a construction site. One lone crane truck remained, almost invisible next to a pile of dirt. An enormous hole was on its other side. Uncasing his gun, he shot one bolt into the air, watching as it went into the hole. He looked smugly at the two troublemakers. /See that? Warning shot. You are now prisoners of the Autobots. Surrender quietly, or I may be forced to use lethal force./
What Bumblebee didn't know was how dangerous his "warning shot" was. The construction crew, had they decided to dig a little more the previous night, would have encountered an oval shape metal pod of a kind. This would have inevitably led to them tampering with it. That would have led to a probable and very painful death.
As it was on a tiny tip of the pod had been unearthed-but that was enough. The plasma bolt hit its very peak. The pod's safety functions immediately activated. Identifying that it had been hit with a weapon of high heat, the pod's primary function's concluded that something was attempting to break in and damage its contents. And so, as it was programmed to do, the pod's stasis effect shut down, awakening the Insecticon inside.
The insecticon, seeing its pod was encased in dirt, immediately broke one side of its containment and tunneled the short distance to the surface, where the fresh air and unfamiliar surroundings gave it cause to open its mouth and let loose it's spine-chilling wailing roar.
Jack had been about to open his mouth in response to the scout's threat when the roar echoed over, and all turned to be greeted with the sight of the giant Insecticon glaring at them.
The Insecticon's excellent vision allowed it to see the Autobot symbol on Bumblebee's wing. It didn't see anything on the femme, but there wasn't a Decepticon symbol, and to its admittedly simple mind, that made the blue stranger as good as an Autobot.
Roaring, the giant bug thundered towards them on all fours. Seeing as his partner had frozen at the rushing attack, Jack seized her leg with his considerable strength and pulled, throwing her out of the Insecticon's path. Unfortunately, that put him in its path. And the Insecticon, seeing as it had bigger scrapelets to crush, simply picked him up and hurled him over its shoulder.
Thanks to his Prime strength however, the impact of hitting the bottom of the pit hurt Jack about as much as a slap on the back. The fact that he'd landed on the roof of the crane truck (the Insecticon had knocked it into the pit in its scramble out) made no difference.
The femme and the scout will be unable to defeat an Insecticon. Neither are skilled enough or strong enough either.
Then let's give them a hand.
His hands on the crane truck's roof, Jack felt the power surge. Transform….uh…uh
The Cybertronian, taller than Flail but slightly skinnier (but not as skinny as Witch Doctor) looked at him curiously. Its yellow armor shifted, and the long, arm-like constructs, each sporting a hook rustled as he struggled to speak. "Name…?" it finally managed.
Arcee came sliding down the sides on the side of the pit. "The scout's getting trashed up there…" she stopped. "Who's he?"
"Your brother."
"Name?"
"Can you help that Autobot out with us first?"
"Name."
"Now? Really?"
"Name."
"Oh for the love of-fine! Your name is…is…" Jack spotted a hat half buried in the dirt and snatched it up. "Your name is Steve."
Arcee stared at him. "Steve?"
"Yeah."
"I like Steve." The truck now known as Steve said happily.
"…Steve?"
"What? He likes it."
"Mace is going to kill you."
"If we don't help Mr. Spots Car, his Autobuddies will kill us first."
Okay. So the idea of the crane truck was that of MVPredicon, but that is not Cleaver's partner. His strategic value is high though. I decided thanks to Foxbear, to stick with a pick-up truck because, to paraphrase, clichés become clichés for a reason. But I'm thinking of using either a classic Dodge Charger or a Chrysler 300 for Snipe. You decide.