First Impressions - Mobile Suit AUTOBOT
Title: First Impressions - Mobile Suit AUTOBOT
Fandom: Transformers
Characters/pairings: Ensemble
Rating: PG
Summary: Man meets Machine - a story old as time. But how many ways could the story have changed?
Warnings: AU, occasional disturbing imagery, language
Notes: Old writing, from back in the day, in it's mostly original format (very minor corrections may have been made) A set of AU's and crossovers of all of the different directions the main story could have gone.
Table of contents
o o o
Mikaela eased her mobile suit into the dock, feeling metal shudder around her as the green mechanoid came to a halt. There was a hiss of pressure released, and she climbed from Ratchet's cockpit. A vibration under her feet made her look up to see the big form of Ironhide docking beside her suit, his chest opening even before he stopped moving to allow Will to climb out. Mikaela grinned at her team mate. "Reg hates it when you do that," she reminded him.
Will jerked his thumb over his shoulder at the larger suit and its pilot, on one of the upper dock levels. "He's not paying attention to me, now is he?" he asked.
"I saw it anyway," called down their leader's voice. Will cringed, and Mikaela laughed. "Get up here," Reggie continued. "I want your opinions on this kid."
They clanged up the metal ladder, stepping under the shadow of Optimus Prime. Reggie sat in the suit's open cockpit, the various screens surrounding him showing not the dock bay where they sat, but the view from the high-angle cameras pointed at the training ground not far away. Two suits danced across the scarred ground, the smallest versions a human could pilot, barely more than enough to safely transport a human between earth and the colonies. Jazz was familiar, all smooth movements like dancing as he dodged shots and returned fire. Bumblebee, Mikaela noted, moved with very little of the usual clumsiness of a new pilot. The new guy was good.
"Not bad," Will said, folding his arms and leaning against the edge of Optimus Prime's cockpit. "Kid's a natural."
Mikaela tapped a button on her wrist bracer, bringing up Jazz's vital statistics on the edges of her vision. "And a good shot," she added. "Bobby's going to be hurting later."
"He got cocky," Reggie said absently. "Underestimated those little solar pulse cannons."
Mikaela's face darkened. "Dumbass," she muttered.
Reggie leaned towards the screen on his left, which showed the two suits locked in a grapple. "He's impulsive," he frowned. "A spazz. A kid."
"He's older than I am," Mikaela pointed out.
"Not everyone's a child prodigy," Will returned.
"You're expecting him to be like Tom," Mikaela said. The tactician had gotten slagged, and while they had been able to scavenge Prowl's CPU as a battle computer, Tom was never going to pilot again.
"Yeah, he's not as level-headed," Will continued. "But impulsive can be trained into improvisational. We send him and Bobby in; they could have the whole Decepticon fleet crippled before we even get there."
Reggie snorted, sitting back in his seat. Mikaela watched the screens, as Bumblebee changed his hold, rolling back to plant his feet in Jazz's torso and flip the smaller suit. Jazz went into a neat tuck and roll, and the comm unit in Optimus' cockpit burst into staticy cursing.
Will leaned over Reggie's leg, thumbing the intercom. "Having fun, Bobby?" he asked with a grin.
"Go to hell, Billy-boy," Bobby retorted.
"Ooh, if he's got you in a snit that bad, he's gotta be good."
"Enough," Reggie said. "Bring the kid in, Bobby."
"Yessir." On the screens, they saw Jazz make a slashing movement with one hand, calling an end to the fight. Bumblebee nodded, and both suits headed off-camera. Will leaned back against Optimus again. "Haven't seen a suit take to a pilot that well in a while," he said. "I think Bumblebee likes him."
"You're implying that they have personalities again," Reggie warned, exasperated, as he hauled himself out of the great suit. Will winked at Mikaela behind their leader's back, and the girl rolled her eyes even as she grinned. Maybe they weren't sentient, but the suits certainly did have personalities, her own being rather temperamental. Shaking her head, the mechanic followed the two older men down the ladders, past Ironhide and Ratchet to the smallest of the docks, where Bumblebee and Jazz were just approaching.
Parts of Jazz were still smoking, most of the damage centered on the suit's shoulder, "If I have to replace those shoulder mounts again," Mikaela growled at the figure climbing from the silver-edged cockpit. "I'm painting dear Jazz magenta."
Bobby smirked at her, completely unrepentant. The new guy looked equal parts terrified and exhilarated, his hands twitching at his sides as if he was fighting the urge to salute. "Can't blame me," Bobby said, clapping the young pilot on the shoulder. "Kid's got good aim."
"Aim you underestimated," Reggie snapped at him, before turning to the fidgety young man. "Sam, eighteen, only wore a grunt suit before," he said, confirming what he already knew when the boy nodded. "How'd you like the bug?"
Sam's face lit up in a brilliant grin. "That was awesome," he gushed. "Bumblebee, he's, I mean, just, nothing like the standard suits." He ran both hands into his hair and gave a brief tug, excited like a little kid at Christmas, and Mikaela made a note to ask Will or Bobby if she'd worn the same way-too-happy expression on her face the first time she'd crawled out of Ratchet's cockpit. The hair-pulling seemed to calm Sam down, and he dropped his hands back to his sides. "It was incredible," he said. "Easily one of the coolest things I've ever done. Sir."
"Good to hear it, son," Reggie said. "Because it's yours now." Turning on his heel, he stalked back to the ladder."
Sam gaped, even as Will whooped and Bobby threw a congratulatory arm around the boy's shoulders. "Wait a minute," Sam croaked. "I, you-" He turned on Bobby. "You said this was just a training exercise!"
"Well," Bobby drawled, "Maybe more like an audition?"
"Time to departure, five minutes," Reggie barked, already halfway back to Optimus Prime. "Mikaela, I want you to make sure the kid gets the bug home safe, got me?"
"Yessir," Mikaela called back. She turned back to Sam, who still looked flabbergasted. "Welcome to the team," she said. "We dock at the moon base, hangar four."
Sam seemed to snap out of his stupor. "The moon base?" he asked. "Why there?"
"Kid, you just joined the first line of defense against the Decepticons," Will said, heading for the ladder. "Gotta be ready to deploy at a moment's notice."
"When we get out, just follow the green one," Mikaela added, following Will. Sam nodded absently, gave himself an all-over shake, and went back to Bumblebee.
Settling in Ratchet, Mikaela slid her hands into the controls, already linking with the suit. He obeyed her commands, stepping back from the dock, his form already shifting for the brief space flight to the station. Information came to her in a steady flow, the states of each of her charges, her teammates. Bumblebee was already on the list, a yellow presence added to the white, black and blue, all of it over-colored with the brisk, slightly sarcastic tinge of Ratchet's presence.
"Time to departure, thirty seconds," came Reggie's voice over the comm, distorted by the odd acoustics of Optimus Prime's cockpit; deeper, more resonant. "Mobile team seven-three-four, active. Autobots, roll out!"
Fandom: Transformers
Characters/pairings: Ensemble
Rating: PG
Summary: Man meets Machine - a story old as time. But how many ways could the story have changed?
Warnings: AU, occasional disturbing imagery, language
Notes: Old writing, from back in the day, in it's mostly original format (very minor corrections may have been made) A set of AU's and crossovers of all of the different directions the main story could have gone.
Table of contents
o o o
Mikaela eased her mobile suit into the dock, feeling metal shudder around her as the green mechanoid came to a halt. There was a hiss of pressure released, and she climbed from Ratchet's cockpit. A vibration under her feet made her look up to see the big form of Ironhide docking beside her suit, his chest opening even before he stopped moving to allow Will to climb out. Mikaela grinned at her team mate. "Reg hates it when you do that," she reminded him.
Will jerked his thumb over his shoulder at the larger suit and its pilot, on one of the upper dock levels. "He's not paying attention to me, now is he?" he asked.
"I saw it anyway," called down their leader's voice. Will cringed, and Mikaela laughed. "Get up here," Reggie continued. "I want your opinions on this kid."
They clanged up the metal ladder, stepping under the shadow of Optimus Prime. Reggie sat in the suit's open cockpit, the various screens surrounding him showing not the dock bay where they sat, but the view from the high-angle cameras pointed at the training ground not far away. Two suits danced across the scarred ground, the smallest versions a human could pilot, barely more than enough to safely transport a human between earth and the colonies. Jazz was familiar, all smooth movements like dancing as he dodged shots and returned fire. Bumblebee, Mikaela noted, moved with very little of the usual clumsiness of a new pilot. The new guy was good.
"Not bad," Will said, folding his arms and leaning against the edge of Optimus Prime's cockpit. "Kid's a natural."
Mikaela tapped a button on her wrist bracer, bringing up Jazz's vital statistics on the edges of her vision. "And a good shot," she added. "Bobby's going to be hurting later."
"He got cocky," Reggie said absently. "Underestimated those little solar pulse cannons."
Mikaela's face darkened. "Dumbass," she muttered.
Reggie leaned towards the screen on his left, which showed the two suits locked in a grapple. "He's impulsive," he frowned. "A spazz. A kid."
"He's older than I am," Mikaela pointed out.
"Not everyone's a child prodigy," Will returned.
"You're expecting him to be like Tom," Mikaela said. The tactician had gotten slagged, and while they had been able to scavenge Prowl's CPU as a battle computer, Tom was never going to pilot again.
"Yeah, he's not as level-headed," Will continued. "But impulsive can be trained into improvisational. We send him and Bobby in; they could have the whole Decepticon fleet crippled before we even get there."
Reggie snorted, sitting back in his seat. Mikaela watched the screens, as Bumblebee changed his hold, rolling back to plant his feet in Jazz's torso and flip the smaller suit. Jazz went into a neat tuck and roll, and the comm unit in Optimus' cockpit burst into staticy cursing.
Will leaned over Reggie's leg, thumbing the intercom. "Having fun, Bobby?" he asked with a grin.
"Go to hell, Billy-boy," Bobby retorted.
"Ooh, if he's got you in a snit that bad, he's gotta be good."
"Enough," Reggie said. "Bring the kid in, Bobby."
"Yessir." On the screens, they saw Jazz make a slashing movement with one hand, calling an end to the fight. Bumblebee nodded, and both suits headed off-camera. Will leaned back against Optimus again. "Haven't seen a suit take to a pilot that well in a while," he said. "I think Bumblebee likes him."
"You're implying that they have personalities again," Reggie warned, exasperated, as he hauled himself out of the great suit. Will winked at Mikaela behind their leader's back, and the girl rolled her eyes even as she grinned. Maybe they weren't sentient, but the suits certainly did have personalities, her own being rather temperamental. Shaking her head, the mechanic followed the two older men down the ladders, past Ironhide and Ratchet to the smallest of the docks, where Bumblebee and Jazz were just approaching.
Parts of Jazz were still smoking, most of the damage centered on the suit's shoulder, "If I have to replace those shoulder mounts again," Mikaela growled at the figure climbing from the silver-edged cockpit. "I'm painting dear Jazz magenta."
Bobby smirked at her, completely unrepentant. The new guy looked equal parts terrified and exhilarated, his hands twitching at his sides as if he was fighting the urge to salute. "Can't blame me," Bobby said, clapping the young pilot on the shoulder. "Kid's got good aim."
"Aim you underestimated," Reggie snapped at him, before turning to the fidgety young man. "Sam, eighteen, only wore a grunt suit before," he said, confirming what he already knew when the boy nodded. "How'd you like the bug?"
Sam's face lit up in a brilliant grin. "That was awesome," he gushed. "Bumblebee, he's, I mean, just, nothing like the standard suits." He ran both hands into his hair and gave a brief tug, excited like a little kid at Christmas, and Mikaela made a note to ask Will or Bobby if she'd worn the same way-too-happy expression on her face the first time she'd crawled out of Ratchet's cockpit. The hair-pulling seemed to calm Sam down, and he dropped his hands back to his sides. "It was incredible," he said. "Easily one of the coolest things I've ever done. Sir."
"Good to hear it, son," Reggie said. "Because it's yours now." Turning on his heel, he stalked back to the ladder."
Sam gaped, even as Will whooped and Bobby threw a congratulatory arm around the boy's shoulders. "Wait a minute," Sam croaked. "I, you-" He turned on Bobby. "You said this was just a training exercise!"
"Well," Bobby drawled, "Maybe more like an audition?"
"Time to departure, five minutes," Reggie barked, already halfway back to Optimus Prime. "Mikaela, I want you to make sure the kid gets the bug home safe, got me?"
"Yessir," Mikaela called back. She turned back to Sam, who still looked flabbergasted. "Welcome to the team," she said. "We dock at the moon base, hangar four."
Sam seemed to snap out of his stupor. "The moon base?" he asked. "Why there?"
"Kid, you just joined the first line of defense against the Decepticons," Will said, heading for the ladder. "Gotta be ready to deploy at a moment's notice."
"When we get out, just follow the green one," Mikaela added, following Will. Sam nodded absently, gave himself an all-over shake, and went back to Bumblebee.
Settling in Ratchet, Mikaela slid her hands into the controls, already linking with the suit. He obeyed her commands, stepping back from the dock, his form already shifting for the brief space flight to the station. Information came to her in a steady flow, the states of each of her charges, her teammates. Bumblebee was already on the list, a yellow presence added to the white, black and blue, all of it over-colored with the brisk, slightly sarcastic tinge of Ratchet's presence.
"Time to departure, thirty seconds," came Reggie's voice over the comm, distorted by the odd acoustics of Optimus Prime's cockpit; deeper, more resonant. "Mobile team seven-three-four, active. Autobots, roll out!"