We are a literate, intermediate to advanced AU Transformers RPG Based off of the first season of TFP with dashes of other incarnations sprinkled here or there. Characters from any continuity are welcome however must be restyled to match the TFPrime universe.
Active, with ongoing plotlines, we are always willing to integrate new characters into storylines once incorporated into the setting.
Whatever Smokescreen had been expecting, he certainly didn't think his rather non-descript and unexciting explanation of his Elite Guard training would provoke such a strong response with Fortress Maximus. Yeah, he knew it was boring and lame, was that really so surprising that it'd cause Max to brake suddenly, without warning?
The young soldier pulled carefully out of the tank's way, going wide. He circled round and then came to a stop as well, confused by the other Bot's reaction.
"When was I sparked?" he asked slowly, puzzled by the question and Max's odd tone. What did that have to do with what they were discussing before? "I was sparked during the war, one of the Last." Smokescreen almost added more but he fell silent, confused by Max's odd reaction and uncertain that more would be of any help.
The tank was silent. For a little while the only sound was of its idling engine. A low dust cloud eddied around its treads.
"I was forged at the onset of the War," it said. "Shortly after I went to the front lines. Served there for - I don't know. A couple million years. Long enough to rise in rank up to a field commander position. Long enough to fight at Simanzi and see half our race exterminated in the carnage that left our planet under near total Decepticon control."
Its voice grew irate, though the anger did not seem to be directed at Smokescreen. "Not long after that I went to Garrus 9 to serve as the Warden. And everyone on the damn planet knows how well that turned out. It took five years at a medical station for me to come around in the wake of it. Five years. We're nearly the same age, and yet I've seen Cybertron so damaged in the conflict it glowed red-hot for years, fought through the Endless Retaliation, and - worse. While elsewhere you were sparring."
There was another reflective moment of silence from the tank.
The McClaren idled in the dust for a long moment in the wake of Maximus's revelations.
Then it transformed back into root form in an explosion of parts. Smokescreen leaned over and rested his hands on his upper thighs. He peered down at the tank with a flabbergasted looked on his face.
He opened his mouth to speak.
Paused.
Pressed his lips together.
Opened his mouth and tried again.
"...Really?" Smokescreen said weakly.
"I…"
There was a lot to take in from Maximus had said but Smokescreen had been hooked by two details. It boggled the processor that the difference in age between the two mechs was so small, and yet Fort Max had accomplished so much more in the same amount of time. It wasn't normally in Smokescreen to be jealous but suddenly all the pride he had in what he'd achieved at the Elite Guard vanished. What did his marks and those glowing recommendations on his file matter, when Max had been out on the front line, rising through the ranks and proving himself as a warrior?
But he'd had no control over his circumstances, a small part of Smokescreen reminded himself. And he knew that, he really did. But it didn't make that sense of shame go away, that he'd been kept relatively safe and done nothing at all, when others had been doing their part for the cause. Since arriving on Earth, it had felt like he'd been miles behind everyone else and there's was an impossible amount to make up for.
But- Listen to him and what he's actually saying, Smokescreen gave himself a mental kick, pulling himself from the mire of thoughts about his own accomplishments. This wasn't about Smokescreen, there was bitterness and anger in Maximus's voice at what he'd been through and experienced. Smokescreen's head had been so full of his own notions of what it'd be like to be a warrior, existing in his nice, clean vacuum but Fort Max had been there, done that and it had left its mark on him. ...seen half our race exterminated…
...Cybertron so damaged, it glowed red-hot for years..
...worse…
What did worse even mean for a mech who had lived through all of that?
For the first time, Smokescreen caught an inkling that maybe this whole be a soldier thing wasn't all like the glory vids he used to watch.
"...had no idea."
"That it was like that."
Understatement of his lifetime.
His processor was a confused jumbled haze, Smokescreen wasn't quite sure what to think. World view shifting events hadn't been on today's plan and even for his easily adaptable nature, he was left flatfooted and internally disquieted . Scratch off pondering about working with Fowler, Fort Max had just given Smokescreen a whole new pile of things to think about.
"And I uh, have no idea what happened at Garrus 9," he offered up, his voice regaining some small measure of strength. This, at least, Smokescreen was certain about. "Apparently, there's a lot you miss out on when stuck in stasis for most of the Exodus and then some."
Maximus pushed up heavily to his feet and stood upright, facing the desert. The expression on his face was one of exasperation, but when he looked around and down at Smokescreen there was no trace of it in his voice.
"I won't got into the details," he said. "They're just a footnote now in the greater Cybertronian timeline anyway. I was just struck by the span of it for a moment. It hadn't occurred to me that you might have missed a big chunk of the more recent history."
The words were sober, but civil. Maximus grimaced and reached up to rub the back of his neck, like he had just experienced a sudden ache. Things whirred in the big dusty warbuild with every moving joint.
"Anyway," he said. "Don't let me make you think I'm trying to diminish your own contribution to the war. I'm not. The Autobots need ever proper soldier they can get. What's back at the Omega base right now could be called disorganized at best. I don't envy Optimus having to wrangle that into order, but I don't doubt he'll do his best. If there were more like you there, I might not have…"
He trailed off with a scowl. After a moody silence he said, "Look, if you're Elite, then you understand how discipline and good training work. That's valuable, and rare these days. Most of the soldiers who could once claim that are long dead. Even if you don't have frontline experience, be proud of that at least. It's not your fault if you were stuck in stasis for big events like the Exodus. Why were you in stasis?" he said. The red optics fixed upon Smokescreen steadily. "I read something about a prison ship in your file."
Smokescreen really didn't want to think about what could leave a tankformer needing a five year stay at a medical station. And since Maximus didn't seem all that interested in addressing it, he regarded Garrus 9 as Not His business.
Unbeknownst to him, that was probably the best way to handle the matter.
It was reassuring to have Fort Max affirm what he'd been telling himself. Smokescreen had known it intellectually, but emotionally hadn't been buying his own advice. External validation allowed him to push that bit of shame away.
"If there were more like you there, I might not have…"
Smokescreen politely did not dwell on why Fort Max was here and no longer at the Omega base. And what he had done a week ago that had seen the tank's relocation to Blackrock. No siree, not dwelling on that at all. Or that big gun. Or that shudder that had gone through the base when…
All of those were things Smokescreen definitely wasn't thinking about right now.
Because he was a disciplined and well trained soldier, just like Max had said. That was him totally. He was paying complete and total attention to the big mech, yup.
At the question about why Smokescreen had been in stasis, the Autobot gave a sheepish laugh and rubbed the back of his neck. Stasis. The bane and story of his short life.
"The prison ship came later actually. I was on guard duty at the Iacon Hall of Records when the attacks started, the ones that lead up to Iacon's fall. Got injured badly enough during the first bombings that I was set up in a stasis pod. I'm not really clear on what happened next because I didn't get out of that pod until the Exodus was well under way. Best I can tell, another round of bombings totalled the hospital I was in and buried the pod for forever pretty much. And then no one found me until some old mech went scavenging in the rubble. He fixed me up, we looked for a way of planet..."
"...And bam. This is where the prison ship comes in. Ambushed by some Cons, taken aboard their prison ship. More stasis in a pod. Eventual escape from said prison ship, then an escape pod. That put me into more stasis. Eventually Earth."
Smokescreen's tone was light through this retelling. It had been long enough since his arrival that he could see some humour in the whole thing. Stasis had been...nothing, really. He hadn't been aware of time passing, only made aware of it when confronted by huge gaping holes in his historical knowledge. From his perspective, the Autobots had gone from holding Iacon, to the whole planet being dead, and then the war front suddenly located on this strange organic planet in an incredibly small amount of time.
"So yeah, a bigger chunk of my life has spent in a stasis pod than out of it. It's kinda crazy when I think about it. So much time just...gone. Poof," Smokescreen mimed a little explosion with his hands. "If I never see the inside of another pod in my lifetime, I'll count myself lucky. I'm beginning to think there's a conspiracy against me."
"I'd wondered what the story behind that was," he said. He nodded. "We've- well, there have been a handful of shuttle crashes on the planet, some critical, some not. And a few escape pods have landed. But your case stood out when it came to light that you'd been on a prison ship before that. It definitely piqued my interest. Seemed like there would be a story behind it."
He shifted his weight and sized up Smokescreen appraisingly. There was a new light in his optics as he said, "Apparently there was. It sounds like you had a hell of a trip to Earth. I'm not sure if you were lucky to spend so much of it in stasis - it's not always pleasant - but it can't be argued you were lucky to get off a Decepticon prison ship. I don't think a lot of Autobots in a similar position ever did."
More rotors creaked in his frame as the big mech crossed his arms over his chest and squared off his stance into parade rest. He looked out over the desert, his manner lapsing into something a little more at ease.
"So, how was it to find out that, due to the big gaps in your internal history, Cybertron has gone from a planet at civil war to a burnt out husk?" he said. "Got to have come as a bit of a shock. And then there's this place, which is nothing like home."
His escape hadn't come easy. Smokescreen didn't like to think all that much about it. It had been incredibly nerve-wrecking, had there been the slightest deviation with his plan...well, it amazed him still that the'd managed to pull it off. That he wasn't still stuck on that horrible ship.
But now it was over, done with and Smokescreen was all too eager to put the past behind him. Maybe later, when he had some distance, he'd allow himself to look back over in depth of those cycles.
Smokescreen winced. "There was a quite a bit of shock to work through," he admitted. "For everything, between all changes with the war and finding myself on Earth, it was all equally surprising. My first few days were spent in this sorta hazy disbelief, like wow, 'this is one vivid dream I'm having here.' But after a while it began to sink that yes, this was real and you know, time to move on, accept it and start catching up. Nothing I can do about it and dwelling on all the time I'm missing doesn't really accomplish much except let more time slip by."
He cast Fort Max a curious look. "How was it for you? Your first days on Earth, I mean?"
For a moment Maximus stood in contemplation, arms crossed. A warm wind drifted across the desert, blowing with it a wisp of dust.
"Strange," he admitted. "I landed my dropship not far from here, in a lake. It's still there. I was greeted by- well, that doesn't matter. It took a while to settle in."
The shadows of clouds raced across the arid flats. Maximus frowned.
"I remember thinking the missile silo - the base - was far too small for the longest time," he said. "Given how much of it is in disrepair I could put forward the argument that it still is. Too small, and too many bots too close together. It was a bit of a rocky start."
He grimaced. "Had some trouble getting an alternate mode at first. I'm too big a frame for what the Autobots had been typically using before my arrival. Cars, mostly," he said, with a nod of acknowledgement to Smokescreen. "Agent Fowler was the one who hit upon the idea of having me scan a tank from the military base. Worked out well, as it turned out."
There was a creak as Maximus absently rubbed his jaw. "The first few days were mostly spent on patrol. I remember thinking the planet was damned strange. I've since re-evaluated that assessment. It's not that different from Cybertron in some ways. I've had a few people show me that since then."
A faint smile lifted the corner of his mouth. Then he looked over at Smokescreen and added more briskly, "I suppose this is your first off-Cybertron assignment then, isn't it?"
Smokescreen didn't disagree with Max's verdict about the Omega base. Heck, it was why he was out at Blackrock, after all. He wasn't the largest of Bots, indeed, he fell somewhere round the middle in terms of the Omega base's current roster, but even he found the place small and cramped. Too many Bots in a space that was still in the process of being converted properly to accommodate mecha meant that you could barely turn around without running into someone.
"It's not that different from Cybertron in some ways. I've had a few people show me that since then."
"That's what I've heard a few other mecha say around the base," Smokescreen chimed in. "Haven't been here long enough to see it myself, then again, my sense of judgement and my knowledge about Cybertron is mightily skewed." The Autobot flashed a self-depreciating smile. There, see. Making jokes about a living time capsule, he was getting better at this.
"All I've ever known is rubble and everyone preparing for a fight. Not..." Smokescreen struggled to pick something more unusual to him about Earth than all the other oddities. "Trees, the relationship between cats and the internet...and people come into the base to practice their guitar on full blast. Miko, really. There's a lot I don't understand about Miko," he said honestly.
"I suppose this is your first off-Cybertron assignment then, isn't it?"
"Oh it is," Smokescreen answered. "Never thought much about getting assigned off-planet until I popped out of the escaped pod and found myself here."
The inevitable path his thoughts took wiped the smile of Smokescreen's face. "Kinda wishing I had when MECH was the first thing I ran into."
Last Edit: Feb 14, 2016 22:34:49 GMT -5 by Deleted
"Yeah, I heard about that," said Maximus. "That they gave you a pretty unfriendly welcome to Earth. At least you made it out alive and in one piece. Others haven't gotten out of similar encounters intact."
He reached up and tapped one optic meaningfully. Click.
"Sounds like you brought that escape pod down in the wrong place at the wrong time," he said. "Either that, or they were waiting for you. It's strange, though. Other bots haven't come across so much as a glimpse of them. I know Agent Fowler's put a lot of effort into tracking their outposts down. From his description they sound elusive, a stray glitch in a system. I haven't run across them yet myself. I don't intend to take prisoners if I do."
A hint of menace laced his mild tone. Maximus glanced up at the sky as the distant roar of a passing aircraft thundered overhead.
"Anyway, don't let MECH colour your perceptions of humans," he said. His expression grew wry. "Let a day of leave in Las Vegas do that. Have you been to the city yet?"
Smokescreen blanched internally as he grasped Maximus's meaning. He'd been resolutely Not Thinking about the whole tankformer in a hospital for five years thing. And was trying to keep it that way. Yeesh, he really didn't want to know about the kind of Cons who could keep a Bot like Maximus down and also had MECH-like tendencies. The combination sounded terrifying.
Sounds like you brought that escape pod down in the wrong place at the wrong time. Either that, or they were waiting for you.
"I only woke up once the pod got near to Earth" he said with a shrug. "Dunno if it did anything weird when it got into this solar system that could have led MECH to detect it but the landing should have been standard, since the autopilot took care of it. So I honestly have no idea if they were waiting or if I just have the worst luck. The whole deal with stasis makes me lean on bad luck. If they had some means of detecting mecha landing on the planet, seems like a lot more Bots would have walked into them first thing."
The Autobot winced at the menace in Fort Max's voice and the whole 'take no prisoners thing.' It was safe to say Smokescreen had no love for the humans who made up MECH, but even so, the mental image of the small humans going up against the big bot was one in which the organics got reduced to little red smears with little effort.
Most of Smokescreen's weeks on Earth had thus been filled with repeated warnings about being careful and to look out for the humans, making him acutely aware of just how fragile they were. And yet MECH had proven to be dangerous and deadly. Just look at what they'd done to Air Raid. The dissonance between their innocuous size and level of technology to the amount of damage they could do to a Cybertronian kinda did his head in. Like, how the ever living frag.
Have you been to the city yet?
"Haven't ventured that far from Jasper though I've heard stories from some of the other Bots," Smokescreen admitted ruefully. "I've been assigned to running patrols since I got here. So really just cataloguing the various shades of brown of earth dirt." -And discovering new levels of patience as he dealt with his patrol partner. Most Autobots from the Omega base were fine, they really were. But Zoom-Zoom…
"Rocks and dirt and more rocks plus the occasional car is what I've been seeing the most. The Omega base sure picked a dull spot."
Last Edit: Feb 14, 2016 22:33:52 GMT -5 by Deleted
"You aren't wrong there," he said. "I'm inclined to agree. Though it could also be argued that's a good thing. Not many 'Cons - or humans - are going to closely investigate a location that remote. Not without good reason."
Like the sight of a sports car driving in and out of the ramp exiting the butte that disguised the missile silo. Primus, he had hated that entrance while he was there. Were he security chief he would have bricked it and restricted access to the base via the ground bridge. All it would take was one ill-timed satellite snapshot to reveal them to the world - or worse, Soundwave.
But he wasn't chief, and Maximus now forced himself to ignore it. It was Red Alert's problem to deal with. And the director was capable.
"Anyway," he said. "Patrols and dirt - I know how tiring that can get. Trust me. When you get cleared for patrols into the city, let me know. I'll join you. Not as a tank," he added. "For obvious reasons. An avatar. I could use a trip into Vegas myself."
Fortress Maximus's trepidation was actually shared by Smokescreen as well. When he'd first started patrolling, he hadn't realised how many of the Autobot's alt modes stood out and weren't seen all that much on the road. As time passed and he'd gotten a better understanding of the demographics that made up Nevada's traffic, the more leery he became every time he took the tunnel exit.
Smokescreen was still pulling his thoughts together, parsing how he felt about it when Maximus offered to accompany him on a trip to Vegas.
"Aw really? Sweet!" he said eagerly. Smokescreen may have even bounced a little where he stood. "I haven't had much of a chance to use my holo, Wash only went through and showed me how yesterday. It was pretty neat."
"That's good to hear," he said. "The holos are very useful here. Never thought I'd ever end up using mine, but I suppose I didn't ever expect to end up stuck on an organic planet either. They're a relatively safe way to interact with the human population. Fortunately their basic mannerisms aren't a whole lot different from ours, so you don't need a lot of coaching on how to blend in with the locals."
The big mech paused and looked amused by that statement. His demeanour was relaxed now, even friendly, despite his imposing stance. The hot noonday sun baked off his darker plating but he didn't seem to notice it as he stood and surveyed the desert with folded arms.
"Las Vegas would be a good place to put your holo to the test," he said. "From what I've heard even if your behaviour is a little… off, it'll mostly go unremarked upon. Unless I've just heard the wrong Vegas stories. That's one thing about the big human settlements: the citizens are less likely to pay attention to you there. Act foolish here-"
Maximus nodded back at the airbase. "-And you'll get noticed and reported. Do it in the city and nobody will care. Well, Optimus would probably skin you if word got back to him, but that's about it."
Smokescreen nodded, trying to curb his enthusiasm. He could go and explode with excitement later that an actual Autobot war-hero wanted to hang out with him. No, wait, what had Maximus called it? Joining him when he was on patrol, yeah that sounded so much better, so much more professional.
"Wash said something similar," he said. "That they were psychologically similar, it's the culture and the biology were things are different."
It was useful to know that oddities were likely to be overlooked within cities. Knowing that he wouldn't be so heavily scrutinised there was a relief. Smokescreen found himself nodding when Max pointed out how such behaviour would be taken on the base.
"Ahaha yeah, you've got that right," he said. "You should have seen how long the list was of rules I needed to know before I was allowed to come here. It was...thorough."
Smokescreen's tone may have slid to sheepish on that last sentence as he recalled he was still technically breaking those rules just by talking to Maximus.