Ep. 2 - ' The Forecast Calls For...' (Closed)

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Week 1, Day 2
About 3 hours after Cooperative Effort

It was not quite three days since her 'eventful' arrival to the planet, but Nova Storm had recovered quite well. Her left optic had come back online after a decent recharge (and a 'mild' lecture from Ratchet). She busied herself with an in depth study of human culture and history, eagerly downloading terabytes of data. Meeting the children was a delight all its own. Meeting the US liaison, one 'Agent' Fowler, was less so, but still interesting none the less....right up to the point they (herself, Prime, and Fowler) discussed her ship and it's hopeful recovery from the 'Middle of the Slagging (her translation) Rainforest!'.

Somehow, the human had cooled his systems quite quickly and extended on offer to her of a tour of one of the military bases. Eager to interact with a brand new race, Nova quickly agreed. A time had been set, and that point was rapidly approaching as she casually moved through the hidden Autobot oasis. She gave a friendly greeting to the Bot stationed at the Bridge console, who knew her destination, even if she didn't. As the Bridge bloomed to 'life', she couldn't help scan it. Once it was stable, she stepped through and exited into the heat of a desert morning. Her cooling systems kicked in almost immediately, flushing her lines. Of course it was nowhere even remotely close to the hottest she'd been, but no need to go into that.

Even at this hour, the base was abuzz with activity, no doubt having to do with whatever the Prime had been called to earlier that morning. The soft rumble of ground vehicles, the distance thump and crack of weapons fire in the distance. It all brought a soft smile to her face.

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The Black Rock military base was busy, but not so hectic that the appearance of a giant robot went unnoticed.

The ground bridge deposited Nova in the middle of an active apron: a broad expanse of asphalt devoted to the movement and parking of aircraft, and the transfer of cargo. Lines of hangers crowded the field to the north of her position, in front of which were chocked a handful of heavy transport aircraft and sleek looking jets. Fuel and ordnance trucks drove back and forth across the pavement, hazing the air with the heat and fumes of their exhaust.

Two of the big trucks spied Nova as she stepped from the portal and nearly slammed to a halt. They veered around her instead, their drivers staring at her through the windows. Marshallers in vests and acoustic earmuffs standing guard near the aircraft tightened their grips on their marshalling batons but did not run in her direction. Evidently they had been warned of her arrival, but not how she would appear.

As the ground bridge closed behind her Nova would hear an engine rev. If she turned towards it she would spy a Land Rover SUV driving slowly in her direction from a small building on the other side of the apron. The vehicle was painted black, and had an orange signal light on its roof - the airport Follow-Me car, most likely.

It pulled up to her feet and stopped, but did not shut down its engine. As it sat there idling the passenger side door opened and a nervous looking man in glasses and a khaki uniform stepped out. Over his uniform he wore a bright neon-yellow vest that fit him poorly. He was slim, and carried a black folio case with him.

“Excuse me!” He had to shout over the sound of a nearby transport’s APU. He shielding his eyes from the sun with one hand and squinted up at her. His glasses shone white. “Er, are you Nova? Nova Storm?”

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Proximity sensors growled at her as she exited the portal, the two larger vehicles closer than deemed safe. She wasn't concerned. In fact she was far less concerned then she would have been had she gotten to the physiological data Rachet has 'requested' she read as soon as she could. A casual scanning beam danced across both trucks as they continued along to their appointed tasks.

Sea-green optics casually swept around to take in the controlled chaos around her. The subtle tensing movements of the humans didn't go unnoticed. While many of her cohorts would never understand the responses, Nova's near countless encounters with 'similar' organic species gave her an insight. It was Fear. Not the unbridled terror that comes with being presented with something truly unknown, but rather the fear that springs from not knowing what was going to happen in a tense situation and how one was going to react.

And honestly, she couldn't blame them. She was something somewhat outside their comfortable frame of reference. Something at once familiar and yet so Alien.

The sound of another vehicle approaching drew her attention away from the active inactivity. As the human male climbed out and addressed her, some of the universal signs of fear were as plain as the sun that shone down on all around. At least the marshallers were good at disguising theirs. She nodded slowly.

"I am, at least since the last time I checked my memory circuits."

She smiled easily at her joke. Humor was one of the first things she easily grasped about this race, along with their languages.

"If I'm late, I apologize. My internal chronometers are still having difficulties adjusting to your planetary cycle."

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The man lifted his folio and flipped it open. He checked something inside.

“No, it’s all right,” he said. “You’re pretty much right on time. Agent Fowler mentioned that you would be arriving via a, er… he called it a ground bridge. We haven’t had the opportunity to see a lot of those open here, so your arrival took us a little by surprise.”

He closed the folio and tucked it under his arm. With his heels pressed together he saluted.

“I’m Lieutenant Joseph Mercer, aide-de-camp to General Bryce,” he said. “The General is in Alden right now, but asked to give his regards to all Autobot visitors to this base. Welcome to Black Rock. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Mercer hesitated. “You’ll have to excuse the activity. Preparations are currently underway for tomorrow’s operation. But we shouldn't be in the way. Agent Fowler has informed me that you’re here to scan one of our aircraft for your own use as a transformable mode of transportation?”

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Long ago, the Cybertronian who would become Nova Storm grasped the import that a salute carried. While it had been quite some time since she herself had been the recipient of such an act, she understood all the same. Straighten a bit more, she returned his salute.

"Thank you, Lieutenant. In truth, the pleasure..." She said the word slowly and questioningly as though it were something truely alien to her. "is truly mine." At the mention of the preoperative preparations, she waved a servo...err...hand (she was trying to adopt their nomenclature, which was harder then one would have thought) in a slightly dismissive manner. "Prime did not discuss the matter, though I would assume that the operation has some connection to the group calling themselves MECH."

For a brief moment,the image of Air Raid flashed across her vision, which caused her plates to flare in response to the wave of anger that coursed through her processors before she vented a wave of hot waste air from her systems. Mercer's inquiry redirected her thought processes, which was what she needed. "That is correct, Lieutenant. I had undertaken a search of possible suitable civilian airframes, but none met the criteria I require. Thus, regrettably, I must turn to you for a possible military alternative." She had also gleaned, from the study of relatively recent history, that civilian aircraft were limited in the areas they could travel over, which wouldn't do for what she no doubt would need to undertake.

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Nova’s brief anger did not seem to deter Mercer. His air of professional calm remained unruffled, though behind the wheel of the Land Rover the driver stirred uneasily.

“It’s no trouble,” said Mercer. “We’ve had several Autobots come to this base in order to scan a military vehicle mode, so we understand both the need and the procedure. One of those Autobots was another flier like yourself. The other was a tank. He’s actually stationed at this base now, and has expressed a desire to speak with you once your scan is complete.”

Mercer hesitated. For a moment he looked uncertain. Then he waved to Nova with a smile.

“Would you please follow me?” he said. He pointed to the Land Rover. “We’ll provide you with an escort to the hangers. The F-22 Division of the 422d Test and Evaluation Squadron is currently stationed on-site, and have agreed to submit one of their aircraft to a scan if you deem it suitable for your needs. It’s this way.”

Without a further word Mercer climbed into the black car. Its signal light lit up as it slowly pulled away, waiting for Nova to follow it. Judging by the amount of traffic on the aprons - fuel trucks and taxiing aircraft - the escort was a good precaution.

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Nova's rounded plates slid back into the former positions as her anger was forgotten. Mercer's mention of another aerial Autobot must have been in reference to Thundercloud. While the mech was a glitch for processors, to know that she wasn't going to be the only functioning flyer at the Autobot base had been a welcome relief. And then there was the mention of a tankalt Bot, on station wanting to meet with her no less.

While certain she had met all the established members of Omega, Nova held no doubt that one or more might have been stationed outside the refuge. Well, at least she now knew she wasn't alone among these humans.

"I look forward to meeting him then."

She did take note of the Hyman's slight frown, unsure was to why he would do that. She easily dismissed it however mere moments later. The prospect of possibly gaining a new alt-form was appealing.

"By all means, Lieutenant, lead the way."

The escort was more then a good idea, it was vital at this juncture, as the femme was new(ish) to the planet. Until she came to understand some of how the human occupations functioned, she was lost, as it were. As the vehicle started toward their destination (her following along easily with her long gait), Nova pulled up images and video of the airframe that Mercer had mentioned.

"Quite impressive, considering your species has had flight capabilities for only the last hundred local solar cycles or so."

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The Rover drove slowly across the apron, its orange light flashing. The light was hardly necessary; Nova was hard to miss. The driver was careful to stay out of the way of the heavy aircraft that taxied along the pavement. Even when idling the jet blast of their engines was dangerous.

Mercer rode in the passenger seat. He sat sideways, and kept the door partially opened. It allowed him to look back and watch Nova as she followed.

“We work fast!” he said. He smiled. “I’m told that one hundred years is little more than a blink of the eye in the lifespan of your species. But in that blink we’ve achieved a level of flight technology that you Autobots consider suitable for your own use despite the millions of years of development you hold over us. It’ll be interesting to see what we will accomplish in another hundred, won’t it?”

The Rover led Nova down another taxiway and into a quieter area. Aside from a sleek white twin turboprop being refuelled by a truck and a handful of slate-grey single-engines, the ramp was empty. On the west side lay a row of massive hangers, painted tan to blend in with the desert and the nearby range of mountains.

One of them was open. The Rover pulled up next to its gaping doors and Mercer climbed out.

“This is it,” he said. He tucked the folio under his arm and motioned for Nova to follow him into the hanger. “This way, Nova. The scan aircraft is undergoing some maintenance in this hanger. Will it interfere with your scan at all if the maintenance crew are working on its avionics?”

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Nova didn't quite share Mercer's enthusiasm regarding the future, what with the War hovering in the back of her mind. Should the Autobots loose the conflict, Earth and it's inhabitants would be among the first to suffer. But let it not be said that she wasn't the least bit curious as to what this species might actually be capable of achieving.

As they moved away from the apron back toward what no doubt had to be maintenance hangers, she dialed back the noise canceling effect that had activated mere moments after she had arrived. Their arrival directly in front of one hanger, and Mercer's subsequent debarkation of the ground vehicle, seemed to indicate that this was their destination.

The airframe was still just out of sight, though she could hear several voices as well as music. She waved a hand dismissively at the question."For the preliminary scan? No. Nor should it have any effect on the full scan, should the craft prove adequate. " She followed him to the entrance.... And stood, entranced by what rested before her.

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“Very good,” said Mercer.

Bright light shone through the hanger. Both sets of doors were open at both ends, revealing a large and airy space. Spotlessly polished cement floors reflected the underbelly of the sleek grey aircraft that sat parked in the middle of the hanger. A tow truck sat in front of it, the unattached tow bar resting beneath the aircraft’s nose.

Power lines fed up into the fuselage, supplying the jet with electricity. Its canopy was popped. Two technicians stood on ladders alongside the cockpit. One of them leaned far inside, so that only the lower half of his body was visible. Their faint voices echoed down the hanger.

Mercer walked slowly to the nose of the aircraft. He touched it with one hand before turning back to Nova.

“This is 99-010,” he said. “She’s been with the 422 since October of 2002. I’m not really sure what she’s in for.”

One of the technicians leaned out of the cockpit.

“Just a malfunctioning IFDL, sir, nothing serious,” he said. “Should be back online in a day.”

He did a double-take when he spotted Nova and stared.

“You might want to climb down and scan back for a moment, gentlemen,” said Mercer. “This Autobot may require no humans fall within the beam of her scanner.”

He gave Nova a quizzical look.

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Nova stood almost transfixed, much like an autophile would be upon seeing a rare classic car. And as with classic ground vehicles, no image or video could replace the impact of physically interacting with something that held your attention so easily. The sharp angled surfaces easily spoke of high velocity, something she had come to enjoy since her conversion oh so long ago.

Her optics never turned from the aircraft, though she was vaguely aware of the humans working on or around the vehicle, as she brought her left arm up. Without looking, she keyed up a data log, which would allow her to look over the craft in a way not even the designers could have dreamed of.

As the maintaince crew cleared aside, she took a half step closer. A near invisible beam crossed the distance, sliding over and through every possible point on the airframe. Tires, control surfaces, engines, everything was scanned. A wireframe schematic appeared in midair just above her upheld arm, finally drawing her gaze away.

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The technicians backed away as Nova approached. Both men looked equally wary and curious as the beam spat out and passed over the airframe.

"That's how it's done?" said one of them. "Man. Wish it were that easy for us. What exactly just happened?"

They stared when the wireframe model appeared.

"I won't claim to know the technical details," said Mercer. His eyes were fixed upon the model that hovered over the robot's wrist as well. "All I've been told is that the scan prepares an internal and external schematic that the Autobot - in this case, Nova Storm - can somehow retrofit their own systems around. I'll admit, it's far over my head. How physical mechanical systems can be manipulated to that degree sounds a little like magic to me. But it works, and for now that's all that matters."

He cleared his throat and looked up at Nova.

"Will this aircraft suffice?" he said. "No problems? Everything okay?"

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Nova half-listened to Mercer's explanation, which wasn't too far off the mark.....though this mention of 'Magic' was intreging. It was something that would warrant investigation, at a later time of course. What had most of her attention at the momen, however, was the reading she was getting from the paint and skin of the airframe...or rather lack of said reading. From what was being indicated, the aircraft had a level of passive stealth capability that would normally be associated with a species more technologically advanced then currently indicated.


In other words, she was impressed. She lowered her arm and looked down at the waiting humans. "It will do well. Quite well in fact. I will need you all to step away, preferably somewhere beside the aircraft, as there will be rapidly moving metal." She moved a couple paces backward, setting some space between herself and the plane, before easing to on knee..

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The technicians glanced at Lieutenant Mercer, who nodded.

"You heard her," he said. "Clear a space."

He stepped back himself and motioned for the men to do likewise. Still wary, the technicians obeyed. A twenty foot space around Nova swiftly cleared as the humans backed away to give her room to transform. They all looked to her curiously; doubtlessly this was the first time they had seen a Cybertronian shift into its alternate mode before.

Meanwhile, at the entrance of the hanger, another man had appeared. This one wore the khaki uniform of a soldier. He was tall and gruff, unshaven, his eyes dark. He watched her apathetically, his expression neutral and his arms folded over his chest.

Transformation, it seemed, was nothing new to this soldier.

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Nova did not realize that she had a +1 to her little show. Satisfied that the humans were well clear, Nova started her transformation. From the human perspective, she seemed to suddenly fall forward, her armor and plating 'exploding' out from her form. Formerly rounded plating flattened as her form grew angular. Her smoky purple color shifted to a smoky blue-grey. In mere moments, where there was once a alien robot and a aircraft now sat two near identical planes, nose to nose, a dozen or so feet apart. A quick surge of electricity or something like it washed over the second plane before dissipating just as quickly. On close inspection, a red Autobot sigil was emblazoned upon the nose gear while a modified version of the 'Star and Bar', with a grey Autobrand replacing the star, being present on the port wing.