Hi guys, I'm so sorry about any email spam from uploading a bunch of chapters. The rewrite ending up changing chapters so the count is all off, so I couldn't just replace them.
Plot is over all the same, its mostly dialogue changes and small character changes. If you decide to re read, I hope you enjoy!
Blackbird
…
It was twenty after five pm when Aria arrived at the Steven F. Udvar-Hazy Center. She walked upstream of a river of tourists who made their way down to hundreds of busses that would return them from where they came.
The Udvar-Hazy Center was a part of the National Air and Space Museum. It was not only the home of thousands of air and space artifacts, but home to her as well. It had been that way since she first walked though these very doors when she was eight.
Massive planes strung up like toys were the first thing that could be seen walking out onto the balcony. Nearly every day she watched people's faces express the childish wonder she felt when she first laid eyes on them.
She walked down the steps of the balcony onto the main floor of the museum. It was there the SR-71 Blackbird sat on display. The distinct aircraft stood out from all the others. It was massive, black, and distinctly curved. The fastest and highest flying plane ever built, even to this day.
But it was also the strangest display the museum had. Sometimes her skin would tingle when she was near it when no one else was around, as if it had a presence. The story at the museum was that it was haunted. Even as she walked past, one of the tour guides was telling a lingering family the story.
"—and then, days after it flew into the Bermuda Triangle, something unexplained happened…" the man paused dramatically. "One foggy morning, it appeared back at the base, not a scratch on it. But when they searched for the pilot… he was nowhere to be found."
The children of the small family gasped in horror, while the parents laughed politely.
"Looks like old man Ernesto is at it again."
Aria turned to acknowledge the man, Frank, a plain looking, middle aged man. He was also her co-worker.
"Hey, at least he's having fun," said Aria, falling into pace with Frank. "Plus his story does have some validity. The pilot was never found."
"Yes, but who would want to haunt that old piece of junk?" Frank nodded his head back to the plane where Ernesto waved goodbye to the family.
Aria gaped. "Did you just call the Blackbird a piece of junk?"
"Sorry, I keep forgetting you're obsessed with this crap." His tone was not at all apologetic.
"I know. It's crazy that some of us work here because we happen to like what's on display."
"You mean the tour guides and educators? Cause I don't think most janitors give two shits where they work. Cleanings, cleaning and that's that. At least I'm getting out of here."
Why did the man have to be so miserable all the time? Sure life wasn't all it was cracked up to be growing up, but that was just how it was. At least he had a wife and kids to come home to, unlike her. Not that she wanted to get married or have kids, but maybe just a friend to visit would be nice.
"In my defense, I did apply to be a guide, it just turned out they were only hiring janitors at the time."
"And how long ago was that? Three, four years ago?"
"Five, but that's beside the point," Aria said, her eyes fixed on the expansive body of the space shuttle that sat in the space exploration exhibit.
He shrugged. "Just thought after you graduate you're s'posed to get a job in that field."
Her eyes drifted back to meet his. "I only graduated a year ago, and I want to work here, just not as a janitor."
"Have you ever heard of the term 'overqualified'?"
"It's Astronomy, not rocket science."
Frank squinted at her out of the corner of his eye, but said nothing.
It was true though, Astronomy wasn't a very competitive field. Sure there were some amazing jobs out there such as researching for NASA, but the majority of graduates went on to basic educational jobs. In fact, educating guests at the National museum would probably be an honor for aspiring astronomers.
They parted ways when Aria entered one of the public washrooms. The large sterile room was completely empty. She took her bag off her shoulders and pulled out her gray jumpsuit. She pulled it over the sundress she wore, not bothering to take it off. After zipping it up, she put on her work boots. In the mirror, she took her time putting her long dark hair up in a ponytail. It was always a struggle to contain the mass of hair and have it not look like a disaster. Finally, she fixed her dark framed glasses and was out the door.
She turned to go down the hall when something, or rather someone caught her eye. A man was lying on the floor, twitching strangely outside the men's bathroom. He wore a gray suit identical to hers. It was Frank. Was he having a seizure? He was fine just a minute ago when she left him.
Aria ran over to his side, kneeling down to get a closer look at him. Frank, are you okay? Do I need to call an ambulance?" she asked him.
In response, Frank started to jerk his eyes towards the men's washroom door. "Ba-bathroom," he wheezed out, looking back at her.
Her gaze turned from the downed man to the washroom door. What was in there that he wanted her to see? Maybe medication, or an EpiPen? With a nod, she ran into the washroom, ready to find whatever he was looking for.
Instead she found four other twitching, huffing, and distressed looking security guards on the floor. Something was definitely wrong here. She backed out the door until she tripped over Frank, falling back partially on top of him.
"Sorry, Frank!" she glanced down at him in alarm, fearing she may have hurt him more.
The man merely let out another huffing noise.
Aria got up and brushed the stay hairs off her face. A faint buzzing and distant panicked voices caught her attention. What in the hell was going on here? Did the noise have something to do with the inebriated men in the bathroom?
Should she run away in case whatever happened to those men happened to her? Or should she find out exactly what was happening? No no, she should stay with the men and call an ambulance first and foremost.
She pulled her cell phone out of her pocket and jammed in the numbers. Her hands shook with anxiety. What was going on? Maybe they were attacked. Did that mean she was in danger too?
The operator picked up after a single ring and she explained the situation to them as calmly as possible. The operator responded by sending out a nearby ambulance.
More yells distracted Aria from the phone call. Something was going on. No longer able to resist, she stood up, sending Frank an apologetic look and told him she'd be right back. She grabbed the taser from his belt and took off towards the noise.
Catching up to the commotion, the source of the buzzing noise turned out to be a remote controlled monster truck and the voices belonged to four people, one girl and three boys. The group was crowded in front of the Blackbird.
Aria had to stop and backpedal behind a nearby plane to avoid detection. There were four of them and only one of her. Her eyes flickered from the group to the taser in her hand. She had never even used a taser before, would they even be threatened by it? They somehow managed to inebriate every security guard in the building, so how could she stand a chance?
But they were obviously here for the Blackbird, and no one messed with the Blackbird, not while she was around. With a steel resolve, she sprung out from behind the plane, taser pointed at the group as if it were a gun.
"S-stopwhatyourdoing!" Instead of yelling, her voice came out higher pitched. Her face heated. That was not how she intended to sound.
The group spun around with alarmed expressions. One of the boys, who looked of Hispanic descent, even had the decency to put his hands up.
But that wasn't what caught her attention. No, it was the small toy truck transforming into a robot.
"What, never seen a Cybertronian before?"
An ear piercing screech tore from her throat. There was no robot that advanced on this planet. It moved perfectly, and spoke like it had a mind of its own. Human technology wasn't even close to this level. And yet, here it was in front of her.
"Whoa, calm down there lady," the older man spoke up, stretching out a placating hand. The others looked unsure of what to do, so they simply watched.
Despite the man addressing her directly, her eyes and taser never left the robot. "What the hell is that thing?"
"Don't worry about it, he's harmless. Just go home before you do anything too drastic."
"I'm right here," the robot muttered.
Sure he looked harmless with one eye like light dangling from its socket, but that was beside the point. These people broke into the museum, did something to the guards, and had a perfectly functioning robot with them and they wanted her to just go home? So when the police came knocking on her door she could pretend nothing happened?
"You can't come here and tell me to go home! You have to leave, not me!"
"Uh, guys?"
Everyone's eyes landed on the piece of metal the short hair boy hand clasped in tweezers. Was the boy shaking it, or was it vibrating? She didn't spare it another thought because it flew out of the boy's raised hand and hit the Blackbird with a clank.
A pulse of energy rattled the large building. The girl and the short haired boy ran under the Jet's fuselage where that weird face looking symbol was. Like her, many have noticed it before. It was just another mysterious thing about the jet.
But instead of confusion or wonder like everyone else, the girl whipped her head towards the others and yelled, "It's a Decepticon!"
What the hell was a Decepticon?
An overwhelming tingling sensation made the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end. It was similar to the presence she always felt around the Blackbird, but intensified tenfold.
The floor shook as the Blackbird started moving on its own accord. Parts noisily rearranged into limbs resembling as arms and legs. A head appeared and it started coughing, trying to stand up while transforming. Aria's legs wobbled and she fell to the ground.
The Blackbird was standing. Standing. They weren't supposed to do that. None of this was remotely possible. The Blackbird was a military plane from the sixties, not a massive robot. This had to be a dream. There was no way any of this was real.
"Behold! The eternal glory of Jetfire!" it hollered.
It had a name? It couldn't, and if it did, it would be Blackbird. The dumb aircraft didn't even know what it was! It was a SR-71 Blackbird, not a giant robot named Jetfire! The thing was hunched over using the biggest cane she had ever seen to make its way to the steel doors that were used to move large air and space craft in and out of the building.
The older man turned to her. "Do not tell anyone, you hear me? Not a soul."
Aria swallowed and nodded. Without another word, the man ran to catch up with others.
The Blackbird pointed a mechanical arm at the doors, commanding them to open. When they didn't, it changed tactics and yelled fire. Again, nothing happened.
Getting angry, well it was already angry. Getting even more angry, it shouted fire again. This time a missile shot from its arm pointed at the steel door. It arced behind the robot and hit a hanging plane some ways behind it.
Aria jumped about six feet in the air at the noise, and another twelve when it exploded. Could the Blackbird not aim? Not only was it going to kill her, but it was going to destroy the museum in the process.
The giant robot resorted to swearing and smashing the doors down and wandering outside still yammering on. She was about to get up and run the opposite direction, but her body refused to get up. So she sat there, eyes trained on the broken doors. This could be the most exciting this to ever happen to her. She would regret it for the rest of her life if she ran now. After what felt like hours, she took a deep breath, her decision made.
Instead of fleeing like a normal human being, she ran out the huge doors and followed the path of destruction towards the talking Blackbird.
A yellow Camero and two other smaller cars, one red and one green, were parked near the group. The short haired boy was on his hands and knees doing…something. Coming closer, she could see he was carving strange symbols into the ground. He was damn lucky she wasn't in charge of the lawn.
The Hispanic boy was the first to notice her presence. He nudged the girl with his shoulder and pointed at Aria. "Mikaela, Mikaela, she's back! What do we do?"
"Simmons!" The girl named Mikaela called to the older man.
Simmons followed the pair's gaze towards her. "What are you doing here!" he yelled.
"That's no way to treat a dame," the Blackbird interjected.
Simmons looked up at the robot with a disgruntled face. "Says who, huh? The senile robot that took out half a museum?"
"How the frag did I get caught up in this?" said the much smaller robot from beside the girl.
"Guys, guys! Let's just stop for a minute. Maybe we can talk this through." The Hispanic boy walked towards them, hands up to show he meant no harm.
At least one of them was willing to talk to her. "I would love that. Maybe you can explain how you turned a decommissioned aircraft into a talking robot?"
Said robot hammered his cane down into the grass. "Bullocks! I'll have you know the only decommissioned aircraft is the one I scanned before it crashed off the coast. I, however, am the glorious—"
"Jetfire!"
"Hrm?" the Blackbird looked down at the boy, now standing beside the symbols he carved into the ground.
He told Jetfire that the symbols were stuck in his head, and someone named Mega- something rather and "The Fallen" wanted what was in his mind.
At this point, she was totally lost. Just who were these people? And who were these robots that had so much history?
The old Blackbird started hollering again after the boy's mention of The Fallen. He crowded them all together as he spouted nonsensical words. Apocalypse, chaos, mission, the Fallen's search, Dagger's tip, a key, hold on.
Wait… Hold on? Why are they holding on?
They were crowded together in between Jetfire's hands. Flashes of light sparked from his massive fingers. The air buzzed around them, now supercharged with electricity. Static pricked at her skin like hundreds of bee stings. The sensation of weightlessness consumed her being, then blinding white light.
And then nothing.
