Roosevelt Lake, Jasper, Nevada
Daniel's mood was, for lack of a better word, average. On one hand, he now has his very first car, and a Lamborghini no less, albeit a very beat up and worn down one. At the very least it handled relatively smoothly, barring a few engine exhaust issues, but nothing too serious based on what he could tell. The engine was loud, but not deafeningly so, and he couldn't hear any squeaky belts, so that was a bonus. It even had working air conditioning, which was a necessity in Nevada.
On the other hand, his father was abruptly pulled from leave, just as they were going to take a little fishing trip together like old times. The timing was what upset him most, but he knew he could not blame his father, or even the higher ups calling him back. He could, however, blame whoever, or whatever, was bold enough to stir up trouble that required one of their ship captains to resume duty early.
Pushing aside the situation, he decided to go fishing regardless. The activity was always calming to his nerves, and he wanted to exercise his newfound freedom on the road.
What he did not expect was a party congregating at the edge of the lake.
When Daniel saw who was attending, he noticed that a lot of faces were from school. He even noticed one Mikaela Banes chatting with some friends of hers. It was no secret that many guys had a crush on her, and Daniel was no exception. He could try and talk to her before or after fishing, but wondered how well that would go. He then frowned when he noticed Trent was here as well, who deftly caught a football a fellow jock tossed him, to which he tossed it back. Daniel decided to not make direct contact with 'Mr. Rubber Band' and try to relax. Unfortunately for him, Trent took notice of Daniel and decided to get some entertainment.
"Hey, Wicky! That car's nice!" Trent called out in a sarcastic tone, causing Daniel to pause and tilt his head up with an exasperated sigh. He was tired of that 'roided up jackass mispronouncing his last name. "So, what're you doing here?"
Daniel decided to straighten up and go along with it. "Just here to do some light fishing," He answered, raising up his fishing rod kit with one hand to prove his point.
"That right?" Trent hummed before he remembered something that made him grin. "Y'know, I thought I recognized you. You tried out for the football team, right?"
Daniel instinctively rubbed his shoulder as he remembered giving it a try, but after coming out of that tryout pulverized, he decided against any future attempts to play football. Fortunately for him, he came up with an even better answer.
"Oh yeah, that," Daniel sighed. "That wasn't an actual legit tryout. I was doing research for a book I was writing."
"Oh yeah?" Trent feigned interest, wondering what dumb excuse his fellow classmate had conjured. "Well what's it about? Sucking at sports?"
Daniel gave a light scoff disguised as a laugh to Trent's answer. "No, it's actually about the link between football and brain damage.
Trent's grin immediately fell to a frown, while Daniel developed a grin of his own. "No, it's a good book. You and your friends'll love it. There's coloring sections, pop-up pictures, and even some mazes to work with. It's a lotta fun."
"That's real funny," Trent said in a dangerous tone. Daniel immediately recognized his mistake as the jock began to take steps forward. Sure, he could dodge a punch or two thanks to a few lessons from his father, but physically defending himself was something he had not gotten tips for.
"Alright, that's enough," Mikaela of all people stepped between the two and managed to call off the beast. Daniel breathed a sigh of relief and decided to return to his car, now not looking forward to fishing with the notorious jock present.
"Hey guys, I know of a party near here!" Trent announced to the party-goers. Daniel overheard this, glad Trent was leaving, but his mood was still fouled from wanting to go fishing.
"How about letting me drive?" Mikaela asked the jock as she looked over his customized black Jeep Wrangler.
"Aw, no sorry," Trent denied with a grimace as he gestured to the rims of his jeep. "This is not a toy. These 22s, I don't want you grinding them. How's about my little bunny hop in the back seat?"
Mikaela scoffed at the term and just shook her head. "If I've said it once, I've said it a thousand times. I'm not your 'little bunny.'"
With that, Mikaela walked off as the rest of the party-goers piled into their vehicles while Trent, off-put by her rejection, played it off. "Okay," He said, his face betraying his irritation. "You'll call me."
Daniel had finished stowing away his fishing rod kit when suddenly the car's sound system started playing 'Drive' by The Cars at a low volume.
"What the-?" Daniel muttered as he stared incredulously at the radio. As he got into the driver's seat and closed the door, he saw Mikaela walking away as everyone else drove off. He then stared at the radio again and raised an eyebrow. He then pointed to the radio, listening to the lyrics of the song, and then pointed to Mikaela, before shaking his head and turning off the radio. He admittedly did have a crush on Mikaela, but was not planning on working his way there today of all days. The more he thought about it, however, walking home in the Nevada sun was unbearable, and he had cool A/C to offer, so the good samaritan in him aligned with his feelings this one time. He gave the radio one more incredulous stare before sighing to himself. "Maybe Bobby B wasn't completely full of crap if my car's suddenly being a wingman…"
His mind made up, he fastened his seatbelt, turned the key and the engine roared to life. Shifting into drive, he slowly pulled up next to her and rolled down the passenger window.
"Mikaela!" Daniel called out. This caught the girl's attention. "It's Daniel Witwicky. Uh, If you're up for it, I can give you a ride home. Gah, Phrasing! Transportation via car. I've got A/C if that helps."
Mikaela simply gave a small shrug and decided to open the passenger door and fastened her seatbelt. Daniel proceeded to speed up and drive along.
"So…" Daniel began awkwardly. He adjusted one of the A/C vents on his side to help him cool off.
"I can't believe I'm here right now," Mikaela muttered aloud. Daniel felt a bit more awkward after hearing that.
"If you want, you can duck down," Daniel offered. "I don't mind."
"Oh, no I didn't mean here with you," Mikaela immediately corrected herself. "I just meant this situation I usually find myself in. I just have this… damn weakness for hot guys with tight abs, and big arms…"
"Well, uh, if it's any consolation, I stay away from juice," Daniel joked, now somewhat feeling self-conscious about his own physique. He could at least say he was fit, but he was not Trent levels of jacked. The joke did elicit a reaction from Mikaela, and from the corner of his eye, he could tell it was a snort of laughter considering the smile on her face. A few seconds of awkward silence fell in the car after that.
"Um, are you new to school this year?" Mikaela asked, trying to break the silence.
"Oh no no, I've been living in this town since I was a wee lad," Daniel answered. "I mean, I try not to draw too much attention to myself, but I think you saw my genealogy report earlier."
"Oh right!" Mikaela said as she remembered. "Daniel… Wicky?"
"Witwicky," Daniel corrected.
"Oh, my bad."
"Nah, it's alright. Trent calls me 'Wicky,' but sometimes I try to put the Wit in 'Witwicky' where it counts."
That elicited a small chuckle from Mikaela. Right as she did, the Lamborghini's key switched off.
"What the-?" Daniel exclaimed as the car began to roll to a stop. "Well, apparently my car disagrees. Gah, don't tell me you stalled!"
To make matters a bit more awkward, the car radio turned on, and played 'Sexual Healing' by Marvin Gaye.
"Ugh, Sorry, I need to get this to a mechanic," Daniel said as the car rolled to a stop into a field that overlooked the sunset as the song kept playing. "And also get this sound system out. I swear I was not planning on any of this!"
"Alright, just pop the hood," Mikaela suggested as she got out of the car and quickly tied her hair back. She was a touch bit weirded out by what happened, but maybe a quick peek under the car's hood could tell her what was going on.
"Shut up, shut up, shut up, shut up, shut up!" Daniel hissed as he kicked the floor of the car until the radio shut off. With an exasperated sigh, he unbuckled himself, pulled the latch for the car hood and stepped out.
Mikaela slowly opened up the hood of the car, and both teenagers were surprised by what they saw. The inside of the hood was a complete contrast to the outside as the engine was practically immaculate and looked to be of high grade.
"Whoa," Mikaela gasped to herself. "Nice headers. You've got a double-pump carburetor on this thing. I honestly never figured you driving a sleeper car."
"Sleeper car?" Daniel echoed as he looked at the engine, hardly believing that this was under the car's hood this whole time.
"It's a type of car that you wouldn't suspect being a high performance machine," Mikaela answered. "Old rustbuckets, boring sedans, but with all the workings to pull serious horsepower."
"Huh," Daniel hummed, genuinely impressed. "Where'd you learn that?"
"Uh, my dad's a real grease monkey," Mikaela answered as she adjusted a cap on the engine. "I could take an engine apart, clean it, put it back together, the works."
"That's actually awesome," Daniel praised. "I never figured you for a mechanic."
"Well, from my experience, guys don't like it when girls know more about cars than they do," Mikaela answered with a sigh. "Especially true with Trent. He hates it."
"Well, his loss, honestly," Daniel suggested. "I mean, I, for one, vouch for equal opportunity career paths."
"Thanks," Mikaela thanked with a warm smile. "Well, doesn't look like there's anything wrong with the engine. Try firing it up."
"Alright then," Daniel said as he got into the car once more. Before he turned the key ignition, he glared over at the radio. "Subtlety, please…"
Daniel proceeded to turn the key. After a second attempt, the engine roared to life, eliciting a relieved sigh from the boy. Mikaela proceeded to drop the hood and got back in the car and fastened her seatbelt.
"Okay, awkward moment aside, let's get you home," Daniel declared as he shifted gears and drove back onto the main road. Roughly 10 minutes passed before Daniel pulled up in front of Mikaela's house. "So, there it is."
"Well, that wasn't too bad, and thanks for listening," Mikaela thanked as she unbuckled herself. She then paused as a new question came to mind. "Um, Do you think I'm shallow?"
"Oh no, I don't think that at all," Daniel immediately answered. "Hell, right before Trent started something, you got in the way. Thanks, by the way. And honestly, based on what I learned, I think there's more to you than meets the eye."
Mikaela could have sworn that her seat rumbled when Daniel said that, but brushed it aside as possibly an anomaly with the engine she could not immediately see.
"Thank you," Mikaela smiled as she got out of the car and walked up to her house. Once she was inside, Daniel let loose a very tired sigh.
"Well done, Daniel," The teenager berated himself. "Couldn't have gotten cornier. 'More to you than meets the eye.'" He then chuckled to himself and patted the dashboard of his car. "Thanks."
No Problem.
High Earth Orbit
Far beyond the gravitational pull of Earth, a massive object was passing underneath the Moon's shadow. Many would dismiss this object as a rogue asteroid from afar, but upon closer inspection, the shape is found to be far too regular and symmetrical. Beyond that, light was emitting from it. When the object emerged from the moon's shadow, it revealed itself to be what can only be described as a massive starship. Its plating was a mixture of bronze and gold. Emblazoned on top of the hull were crimson insignias that depicted a metal face of seniority. Aboard the ship were several autonomous robotic organisms milling about several duties. A foolish person would mistake these as mindless and soulless machines, when such statements could not be further from the truth.
"This is the planet?"
On the bridge of the ship, one robotic organism stood taller than the rest and observed the planet with a pair of illuminated blue optic sensors. He was adorned in red, blue, and silver armor and stood at attention seeing the planet before him. As he surveyed the planet, he could not help but mentally remark upon its beauty. An interconnected ocean of salinated water broken up by several continental landmasses of unique biomes and landscapes.
"Sure is," Another robot answered, with a white paint job with blue and red streaks. Over his eyes was a matching blue visor. "This is where He said he found a rumored clue."
The taller robot hummed in acknowledgement as he continued to observe the planet. "Has he remained undetected?"
"So far nothing's turned up on the native's datanet," The white bot answered as he walked over to a terminal on the Bridge. "By the looks of things, he's also keeping a watchful eye on the one carrying the map. You'd think the kid would be less subtle, but he seems to be blending in smoothly."
"Good," The tallest robot nodded. "Inform me if he makes contact with us."
"Copy that," The visored robot nodded as he returned to his duties.
"Sir!" Another robot raced onto the bridge, adorned in a bright red color scheme. He was a bulky form with two large forearm-mounted cannons. "We've got trouble!"
Before the new robot could answer, two large ships soared overhead, each rivaling theirs in sheer scale. The eyes on the tallest robot widened before hardening into a glare.
"Prepare for battle!" The tallest robot ordered as a loud alarm blared throughout the ship.
Upon the ship's exterior, large gun turrets unfurled from beneath the hull and began to take aim at the large ships flying alongside it. On one side was a large flattened vessel with rear wings and a forward flight deck. The center was topped with several gun turrets and heavy ordinance, and was a dark purple with green hues along certain sections of the hull. The other ship was much larger, and far more imposing, resembling a massive predator hellbent on making the gilded ship its next meal. It was far darker than its accompanying counterpart and sported several sharp wings and spires with several gun emplacements laced between them all.
The assailed had opened fire upon both ships, explosions rocking both offending vessels. The green-accented ship fared worse than its bladed counterpart, but retaliated against the gilded vessel by deploying several cables from its hull which latched onto the shining, yet damaged, hull. The other vessel did the same as several robots poured from both vessels. The robots aboard the gilded ship were quick to retaliate and attempt to repel the boarding parties of both ships. Back on the bridge of the gilded vessel, everyone was in a panic as the ship was being latched onto.
"Sever the tow cables!" The tallest bot ordered.
Several fighter jets deployed from tubes along the gilded ship's frontal section and began bombarding the cables with missiles. The bladed ship was the first to be disconnected as the jets focused their efforts there first. This proved to be their undoing as the opposite ship began to unleash a volley of red-hued shots upon the gilded vessel, rocking it with several explosions, one of them near the very rear of the ship.
"The main engines are offline!" The visored robot shouted as the explosions rocked the inside of the bridge. "We're currently in freefall for the planet's gravity!"
"Order all batteries to fire upon the remaining tow cables!" The tallest robot ordered. "Have the ship divert its collision course to an unpopulated sector of this planet, and prepare the cloaking field!"
As the tallest robot gave the orders, the cannons outside fired upon the other tow cables as instructed, not only dislodging the offending obstructions, but also severely damaging the offending ship's engines in the process. The bladed ship had long since veered away as the two were now careening towards the planet. The flat ship was going to land right in the center of what is known as the Pacific Ocean, avoiding any land mass for kilometers on end. The other ship, however, was not so fortunate, and was heading towards a mountainous region along the western coast of North america.
"You two, assemble a team and enter the Transition pod launchers," The tallest bot ordered the red robot and visored robot. "He will signal us for a place to land and when."
"Is that the best course of action right now?" The red robot asked as the ship continued to plummet.
"We got crew here to control the ship's descent," The visored robot explained. "Worst case scenario is that they head for the stasis pods, but we need folks planetside now."
"Alright," The red robot shrugged. "But I'm also deploying Broadside, just in case we get any nasty surprises from the goons we shot down."
"A sound decision, old friend," The tallest robot decided. "Now, roll out!"
The three then raced deeper into the ship. As they ran, their plating began to shift and contort until they transformed into vehicular forms and sped down the hall.
USS Montana, Puget Sound Naval Shipyard, Washington
Coming in for a landing at one of the designated helipads dotting the northwestern naval shipyard was a CH-60 Seahawk helicopter. As it touched down and slowed down its rotors, the side door slid open and out of it stepped Captain Spike Witwicky adorned in Navy Casual and a duffel bag over his shoulder. As he scanned the shipyard, he saw a multitude of naval vessels, old and new, docked along its piers. He then eyed one particular vessel and smiled to himself as he marched towards it: The USS Montana, the only Montana-class Battleship of its kind. Despite the suspension of the class in 1942, the namesake ship was too far along to scrap, and thus saw completion just 2 years later. It had gone under several refits over the years as well as several captains that served to the best of their ability. Spike Witwicky was no different.
As he approached the boarding station, Spike was met by an unusual sight. Standing at the gate was a short, slightly portly man with dark skin and jet black hair that shot up, barring one section that was bleach white, in addition to a small, yet thick, mustache that adorned his upper lip. He was wearing a sort of scientist's uniform with black rubber gloves and boots. The man turned to Spike and his eyes widened ever so slightly before stepping forward.
"Excuse me, Are you Captain Spike Witwicky?" The man inquired with an Indian accent as he outstretched his hand. "I was told that he would be coming here today."
"The very same," Spike answered truthfully. "And you are?"
"But of course. My name is Professor Issac Sumdac of Sumdac Systems," The man in question answered as Spike took his hand and gave a firm shake.
"Sumdac Systems?" Spike echoed, now genuinely curious. "I've heard about your work, sir. You certainly put Boston Dynamics to shame, but what are you doing here?"
"Well, you see, one of my sales representatives looked over an order recently," Professor Sumdac explained as he pulled a document from one of the pouches on his belt. "He noticed that some of my programmable servo arms were ordered at your request. If it were anyone else, I would let the issue slide, but my company policy is to develop robotics for peaceful applications, not military."
"I'm familiar with your policies, Professor, but I never put in such an order," Spike explained. "Is there a signature on that document?"
"It's a copy, but yes," Issac answered as he handed Spike the paper. "It has your signature on it."
"But it's not my handwriting," Spike clarified after skimming the document. "Question is who would…" Spike took a moment to wonder who would make such an order without his clearance, and worse, under his name and finally came to a conclusion. "Oh God Damnit…"
"What is it, Captain?" Professor Sumdac asked, wondering what caused the man to curse in such a tone.
"I think I know who's responsible," Spike sighed as he readjusted the duffel bag over his shoulder. "Please, follow me."
The professor merely nodded as Spike sped onboard with an annoyed look on his face. Several sailors saw the Captain walk by and stood at attention, to which Spike immediately dismissed them to be at ease. He and the professor entered the fire control center of the ship, where a myriad of modern and archaic instruments were on display. Several Navy officers proceeded with their operations, but Spike found the one he was looking for. Hovering over the control console for one of the 4 primary gun turrets was a man in his early 20's that looked to have a hispanic heritage with dark olive skin and hair that grew into tight curls.
"Lieutenant Diaz!" Spike roared. This caused the man in question to stumble and fumble before returning to attention, but with an expression akin to a deer caught in headlights. The captain then shoved the sales order in front of the man. "Is this your handwriting? Because it sure as Hell isn't mine."
"S-Sir, I can explain," Lieutenant Diaz stammered.
"Please do!" Spike snapped back. "You had better give me a valid reason why I shouldn't have you court martialed for forgery of a superior officer's signature and illicit use of Sumdac equipment on my ship! So start talking, Noah!"
"Okay…" Noah sighed as he took a deep breath. "First off, if it helps, this came out of my own bank account."
"That's besides the point, Lieutenant," Spike deadpanned.
"Right. I know the main cannons have to be in tip top shape, but all the methods to load shells are antiquated and dangerous. I wanted to see about upgrading them to a means that held less of a risk. By using these servo arms and belts, we can easily minimize injury by allowing robotics to deal with the heavy shells and explosive powder, not to mention that it'll help increase firing rate."
"Did you consult the XO?" Spike inquired.
"Sir?"
"The XO of the ship is in charge when I'm not around. Did you speak to him about this?" Spike reiterated.
"I did," Noah answered. "But he claimed we didn't need to refit the ammo system like that, and even if we did, to use other brands. Unfortunately, I've seen other brands, and they're not as reliable as Sumdac machinery."
"So you decided to forge my signature to order the parts and go behind not only my own back, but the XO's back as well? And need I remind you that Sumdac has a strict policy for his equipment?"
"L-Look, this is civilian equipment. It wasn't designed for military purposes."
"This does not change the violation of my policy, Lieutenant Diaz," Issac spoke up. "I designed and built these machines for peaceful application. Regardless of their design, this is a violation of my policy, and I am afraid I cannot sit idly by while this happens."
"The professor has a very valid point, Diaz," Spike agreed with Sumdac's policy. "Not only did you go off the record with this, but you also violated policies the Navy, and all other branches of the military have to respect. I understand your motives, but your execution cannot be overlooked."
Noah stayed silent for a moment as all of his crimes were laid out before him. All he wanted was to upgrade the gun batteries in an effort to reduce the hazards related to them even further, but how he went about it had gotten him into deep trouble.
"Fortunately for you, this mess can be fixed," Spike added before turning to Issac. "If you want, I can have one of our engineers help you remove the illicit refit."
"I appreciate that, Captain," Sumdac nodded before realizing something. "Though you will be setting sail soon. I do not know if I should be a part of that."
"It's alright, Professor," Spike consoled. "We have space to accommodate a couple of temporary guests while you work. Once you have everything removed, I can call up a heavy lift chopper to take you and your equipment back home."
"I suppose I can work with that, but what will happen if you need to use those cannons?" Issac questioned. While he frowned upon the use of his own machines being applied for military means, he did not wish to be a burden, especially when it came to operations for the Navy.
"Again, it's all good," Spike added. "Those cannons are mostly for show nowadays, and we rely on other means for defense. In any case, welcome aboard the USS Montana."
"Very well, Captain," Sumdac sighed. "I shall try and work quickly and discreetly, and thank you for clarifying this issue."
"No problem," Spike nodded before returning his attention back to Diaz with a stone cold glare. "As for you, report to the brig immediately. I will deal with you later."
"Yes sir," Diaz meekly nodded before sauntering out of the control room.
Right as Noah left, the ship suddenly began to list aggressively, causing everyone standing to stumble.
"What the Hell…?" Spike muttered. Immediately he ran for the bridge, leaving Issac to his own devices for the time being. By the time he reached the bridge, he saw that a massive tide of water began to wash over the harbor. It was not a big enough swell to be tsunami levels of dangerous, but it was enough to crest over the walls and drench the ground, as well as apparently rock the ship. "What just happened?"
"Not sure, sir," A navigational officer answered as he looked at the water slowly calm down. "A massive swell of water just entered the harbor out of nowhere, which is really weird."
"Weird indeed," Spike nodded, just as perplexed. "Did we just experience the aftershocks of a tsunami?"
"No sir," The officer answered. "I already called in to see if there were any quakes that could've made one, but there was nothing."
This unsettled Spike a bit. Tsunamis can be dangerous, and what had hit the shipyard was akin to the residual leftovers of one, especially considering their location, but there were no reported major earthquakes that could have generated one. It was also unlikely that it could be a tidal wave, especially with relatively calm weather. Pushing his musings aside, he turned to the navigational officer.
"Are we still go for departure?" Spike asked?
"All systems green, and clearance has been granted, sir," The nav officer answered.
"Then take us out." Spike ordered.
With that, the engines of the USS Montana sprang to life, the propellers began to spin as the ship began its navigation out of the Puget Sound and into open waters. Spike hoped that no further complications would arise, but something in his gut told him otherwise, especially when a young girl with dark skin and brick red hair had snuck onboard while no one noticed.
A/N: TF:Animated presence?! What has this world come to?! In my defense, the rough outline suggested that such things would be here, and I decided to roll with it. Of course I needed to come up with an excuse to introduce Professor Issac Sumdac. Now as for the situation in high earth orbit, I was deliberately vague on descriptions until the big reveal, sorta like how Beast Wars was deliberately vague on what the robots looked like until they got their beast modes. It shouldn't be too difficult to figure out the whos and whats I was talking about. Now for you navy heads out there, we have a historical AU where at least ONE Montana-class Battleship was built before the entire class was canceled. Also, I have plans for the USS Montana to see action later on. As for that tidal wave that rocked the ship before it could leave, I wonder what could've caused that?~ In any case, I hope this was a fun read. Do leave a review with your thoughts. :)