Ep1.5 – Hunt Them Down – Closed

[Deleted]

“Well, you were right.” Fowler, over the video display, looked about as harried as a man might when in the midst of directing operations. He’d lost his suit and tie, it seemed, and was sweating slightly in what looked like a flight suit that didn’t quite fit him correctly. The man was clearly video-conferencing from Deigo Garcia – the floodlights on in the warehouse behind him, a narrow corner of an open bay door showing a slice of the night sky across the world. He pecked at a few keys and a series of small window opened on the screens for the Autobots. “Airforce One hit the Nemesis coordinates right after your team cleared the ship, but as you know, they booked. No contact with the primary target.”

“It is likely, Agent Fowler, that they have burned almost all their reserve fuel to quickly evacuate the site of our attack.”

Optimus tone was even, utterly matter of fact. You wouldn’t know by his tone that his team had very nearly single handedly taken down the Decepticon flag ship only 48 hour ago. You wouldn’t know from his tone that less than 12 hours ago, he’d confronted Megatron at the DMZ and seen Barricade walk back into life like he didn’t deserve. You wouldn’t know from his tone that he’d watched Shadowrunner break rank and go AWOL, benched Ironhide from active duty, had several 4 million year old world views altered. He gave no indication. Arcee was watching him sidelong, narrowly. If Jazz was looking at him in any particular way, Optimus wasn’t catching it.

“We’re going to send one of our new arrivals through groundbridge to your next location,” said Arcee, stepping in. “Air Raid. He’s an Aerialbot. Combat ready and he knows how to fight Seekers. I know you said there hasn’t been any contact yet, but if Starscream is the psycho we know he is and the Nemesis fragged as we think it is, he’ll definitely hit you. It’s just a matter of time.”

“Yeah, well,” Fowler picked up a bottle of water from off screen and downed the contents. “Ahh, it’s been three days of searching now. We’ve got international cooperation, eyes in the skies all over the world and still nothing. Our team's here refueling. I’ve got Captain Marissa Faireborn here. She’s CAG for the primary hunting party.”

Optimus nodded. “As the Autobots are currently recovering from the attack on the Nemesis and our team composed primarily of ground-assault specialists, the arena is truly yours, Captain Faireborn. We are on standby to groundbridge directly onto the Nemesis again if its exact location is again discovered, but barring that we will be conducting ground patrols to claim all possible Decepticon fuel sources as we are able.”



[[OOC: Set after ‘Five Minutes’ – this scene is open to Jazz, Air Raid, Marissa, and any other humans you guys think should be about. It should be understood that this operation was pre-planned and discussed between Team Prime and NEST prior to the assault on the Nemesis.]]

[Deleted]

"Understood."

Marissa was pulling back her unruly hair in an elastic, to keep it clear of her helmet when it went on. She wasn't quite facing the screen Agent Fowler was talking to, but she had half an eye on him and the Autobot's commander (Prime, she reminded herself, and let's take a moment to re-read that dossier about the Autobots' command structure when we have five minutes). So far Optimus Prime seemed competent enough, if a bit tired - no different from any other commander Marissa had ever worked under. Once you got past the "made of metal, would tower over her house, and is sometimes a truck" parts. Marissa wasn't quite sure she was past that.

When they'd told her she'd be working with beings from another planet, Marissa had pictured the Roswell kind of aliens - bug-eyed green things, "we come in peace," all that. She hadn't been prepared for the reality of these particular aliens, and only military discipline had kept her from embarrassing herself with high-pitched noises when she'd seen the security footage of the Autobots in combat. She had yet to meet an Autobot in person. ...Maybe she'd better just study the whole dossier again. Just to keep it fresh in her mind.

After this mission.

Dear dad: I finally got to fly again, only this time I was looking for a crippled alien warship in cooperation with another set of aliens. One of them turns into a truck. You'd like him. Oh, if only. Maybe the whole business would be declassified in twenty years.

Her hair not quite tamed, but at least told what was what, Marissa returned her full attention to Fowler and Prime. (The Prime? Or just Prime, like Batman?) The two seemed friendly, or at least like they understood each other. A stable working relationship. It was a good sign for interplanetary relations, she supposed. Fowler could be abrasive, but he was dedicated and more importantly, fair. The United States could have done worse for their liason.

That reminded her. "Agent Fowler," she ventured, "Prime. Sorry to interrupt, but - I'm told I will be flying alongside an Autobot. What should I know about him?"

[Deleted]

Meanwhile, twenty miles to the southeast of the coral atoll known as Diego Garcia, a green portal spiraled into the night sky at five thousand feet.

It spat out a white F-35 fighter jet, which dropped its nose and floundered briefly until it could blast forward at full throttle and recover the altitude loss. It was always rather awkward coming out of an aerial-based ground bridge, particularly when you flew through it as a jet. You could only get so much of a running start in the control room of the Autobot base before you were launched into the blue yonder with what little airspeed you were able to pick up before entering the bridge. Which usually wasn't a lot.

Air Raid fired up his afterburner and roared up into the clouds.

It was a gorgeous night. Perfect to begin a mission like this one. Warm, clear skies, a little scattered cumulus at four thousand, and nothing but wispy cirrus high above that. He could see for hundreds of miles in all directions. Even the upper winds were moderate. Perfect for flying.

And for kicking 'Con ass.

He rolled lazily, just for the hell of it.

The warm air felt good on his wings and fuselage. Air Raid rolled level and sobered. All right. Time to sharpen up. This was an important mission - not just to thwart the Decepticons. This was a big step forward in human/Autobot joint tactical co-operations. No messing around. His pylons would be loaded with AIM-9Xs and AIM-120s upon arriving at the air base, his internal bays with AIM-132s - a serious air-to-air payload, for a serious engagement. Of all the Autobots on Earth he was the one with the most experience in fighting the 'Cons in the air. He would be expected to set a sterling example to the NEST forces.

He had never flown alongside humans before. This was going to be so weird.

Ten miles back from the air base he pulled up the ATIS. He checked his database for the tower frequency and cycled that into his radio next. The Autobots could have bridged him straight onto the base, but it was deemed too great a security risk. Better to fly in like a normal jet. Less chance of exposing himself as a robot on a potentially unsecured ramp. And nobody wanted him exposing himself.

Air Raid cleared his mind, pushed down his nerves. Keyed his radio.

"Diego Tower, this is AB201, with Echo."

A pause. No doubt the humans in the tower were pulling up his military flight plan based on the call-sign Fowler had assigned him. Then:

"AB201, this is Diego Tower, go ahead.

"Tower, AB201 is an F-35, ten miles back at five thousand, inbound to land visual. Er. I believe I'm expected."

A longer pause this time. Oh man. Oh man. Fowler filed that flight plan for him, right? If this ended with him getting intercepted by human jets he was going to be upset.

"AB201, roger, you are cleared for a straight in final runway 31, report three miles back."

Air Raid breathed out a sigh of relief. Thank Primus.

Shortly after the atoll itself came into sight, a odd shoestring island surrounded by deep water and smooth white sand beaches. Moon and starlight glittered on the waves. The runway was easy to get a visual on - long and wide, flanked by taxiways and hangers and military buildings. Its runway lights were on, bright lines in the darkness. Air Raid saw transport aircraft on the tarmac, helipads on the northwest end. Nothing else was flying in the circuit as he throttled back and dropped flaps on the long final approach, his landing gear lowering and locking into place with an audible clunk. He wondered if they had deliberately cleared the airspace during the time block listed as his ETA.

His mains chirped on runway three-one a minute later and then he was barrelling down it, his nose gear lowering as his airspeed bled off. Air Raid mentally threw up the horns. Aw yes, perfect landing in front of the humans. He would have crawled into the ocean in embarrassment if he had bounced it.

"AB201, clear on Hotel and contact ground on one-one-eight-four for taxi instructions. Welcome to Diego Garcia."

'Be cool, Air Raid,' the Aerialbot thought to himself as he slowly taxied off the runway, his red and green nav lights glowing and his strobes blinking. 'And don't mess this up!'

[Deleted]

Jazz was not smirking. As everyone discussed the limping Nemesis, the critically low fuel situation for the 'Cons, and how they had the Nemesis so on the run that Megatron had had to put out decoys...he did not smirk.

Oh, who was he kidding.

It'd been a damn fine raid, and Jazz was proud of it. A handful of Autobots had kicked over the hornet's nest that was the Nemesis and gotten away free and clear in a patented spec ops shock-and-awe chaos-fest. Jazz had been the small, fast, sneaky mech in the big, tough, powerful mechas' war for long enough to LOVE it when speed, tactics, the good old element of surprise, and a hefty dose of "OMGWTFWASTHAT" ran roughshod over superior numbers and firepower.

It could have gone bad. But it hadn't. It had gone JUST RIGHT. Just right enough to make the gambler in Jazz want to push his luck. Just a bit more. Just a BIT MORE, and they could really, seriously start a new chapter in this war. Maybe the last. Take out the Nemesis? Probably wouldn't actually be so good for the humans--which Jazz wasn't sure if anyone was thinking about too hard--but wow, would THAT ever level the playing field for the Autobots.

They weren't likely to get the second chance, but it was possible that they could get a lock, and Jazz was raring for another go. He'd been the first to volunteer to go in again, and he was patched so far into the data the deployed Autobots and the humans were sending them that his visor HUD nearly obscured Captain Faireborn's face on the monitors as he moved close enough to be in the monitor's view. "Captain, your Aerialbot's named Air Raid, and he's just landed at Diego Garcia. His alt-mode is an F-35, and he's--"

Jazz grinned and didn't say "a happy Cybertronian puppy with wings".

"--born to fly and knows his stuff. He's never flown with humans before, so you two'll no doubt have to talk shop some about how best to work together in the air, but Air Raid's a solid fighter and's looking forward to giving you all some seeker-tagging pointers. I'm sure you two'll get along."

To say the least. Air Raid had nearly BOUNCED through the ground bridge.

[Deleted]

“Hear that Fairborne? You get your own giant robot jet.” Fowler, turning back to the computer screen, didn’t seem overly enthused. “Welp, won’t complain ‘bout having a friendly flier on our side for once, you Bots are all far too attached to the ground. Captain Fairborne, why don’t you go greet the newbie and see if we can't get him acclimated to how we do things.”

He frowned, looking directly at Prime.

“You know what’s at stake here. Joint Chiefs cleared this attack on the Nemesis because it’s the first time we’ve ever had a proper lock on them, but the risks of retaliation if we don’t finish this… I don’t know about you, but Megatron don’t strike me as the type ta appreciate getting his tin can kicked by the natives.”

Optimus didn’t overtly react to the mention of the risks. He knew them too well already, had gone over them again and again with Fowler and General Bryce but when it finally came down to it – not acting jointly on inside intelligence simply wasn’t an option anymore.

“Then we must finish this,” said Optimus simply, tone a notable degree colder. Arcee glanced at him once, for a second, before glancing over at Jazz – as if to see if anyone else heard it. Optimus didn’t notice. “The intent is to bring the Nemesis down, permanently. Your leaders know what nearly happened at Chernobyl – that informs their decision to act now and speeds our actions to starve the warship for energon. We crippled the ship itself of its primary weapons – if you find it, barring the Seeker armada itself, the ship is without defense.”

"Yeah," said Fowler, dryly, "barring an armada of super ancient Seeker soldiers who been space dog-fightin' since before the wheel was invented." Fowler thumbed his nose. "You're lucky we're the best there is, Prime."

"Of that, I have no doubt."

[Deleted]

Marissa smiled, having hung around long enough to hear that. It was nice to have something to live up to. "I'll comm you when we're ready to fly," she told the officers with a salute - technically unnecessary, since neither bot nor human was in her chain of command, but it never hurt to be polite - and headed down the hall.

She heard the commotion before she made it to the runway. A group of airmen (a handful of women among them, but 'airpeople' had always seemed clumsy in her mouth) was gathered around the knees of a - Marissa's step faltered for a moment. Giant robot. That's a giant robot, all right.

After a moment her brain got used to the size and she could pick out details. The wings were a dead giveaway as to what Air Raid turned into, but in the lines of his chest and legs she could see hints of the fighter jet altmode as well. Though certainly no fighter jet Marissa had ever flown been painted bright white along with the gray. He looked like the medical corps had gotten ahold of him. He was also smiling, and chattering animatedly to the airmen, hands fluttering through the air to illustrate his words. They're fanboying each other, Marissa realized, and muffled a chuckle.

"Captain Faireborn!" She'd been spotted. Squaring her shoulders, Marissa strode out to the flight deck, acknowledging the greetings and the open expressions of envy with a wry smile. The airmen moved aside to make room for her, and she walked up to the giant robot as if she'd been doing this every day of her life.

"Air Raid, I presume."

[Deleted]

Under the watchful eye of the tower, Air Raid had cleared the runway and followed ground control's directions to the apron set apart for the use of the NEST wings and their aircraft. He had taxied slowly past rows of huge transport aircraft, their props and turbines stilled while their great wings arched overhead, past fighter jets already laden with loaded pylons of ordnance. A ground crew member had waved him into a parking spot reserved just for him, his batons glowing in the dark.

Into this place the Aerialbot had settled, uncertain, his APU still idling while he shut his engine down. He had fretfully wondered what to do next. Must not screw up, Air Raid.

He had been forgotten for a little while after that, the apron bustling with activity as the ground crew worked to prepare the NEST jets for launch. That had been interesting to watch. Covers had been removed from pitot tubes, static probes and inlets, men scurrying about the aircraft in headsets and flight suits. Specialists had performed operational checkouts of radar and electric systems, and weapons crews had moved in to do one last check of the missiles and countermeasures loaded the day before.

Eventually the Crew Chief had made his walkthrough, that final inspection to ensure that nothing had been missed. Now the jets awaited their pilots, silent and ready.

Someone had noticed the odd white jet sitting nearby and had wandered over to kick his tires. That had sent Air Raid nearly into a panic. Was he allowed to transform? Was he allowed to speak with the ground crews? Would that get him chewed out for blowing his cover? Fret, fret, fret.

And then it had happened.

A military pilot had walked straight up to him and casually asked him what airspeed he cruised at. The question asked by fliers across the universe.

Assured him that yes, the entire base knew that he was a space robot.

And with great relief, Air Raid had transformed.

After that, it had taken him approximately ten minutes to draw a crowd.

Illuminated by the apron lights, he stood tall and gleaming white above his new friends and traced an elaborate manoeuvre through the air with his hands, radiating enthusiasm. They hooted and laughed and he grinned broadly, basking in the attention.

"- and we blasted down through their formation like this, blam!" Air Raid pantomimed a jet soaring downwards, his thumb and little finger spread wide. "Man, you should have seen them scatter! We totally got the bounce on them, the bastards didn't even spot us coming. Boy, did they yell at us over the radio, all the usual death threats and blah blah blah. Decepticons are such bitches. Whoa!"

Air Raid froze, his optics wide. Went mute and gaped at the woman who had just strolled across the tarmac to greet him. She had patches on her flight suit and shoulders that were probably important.

She had a flight suit on.

She was a flier.

He mentally went over the last few words he had just said, his grin fixed into an 'oh crap' grimace. Then he hastily scrambled to stand up straight, his heels clicking together. He ripped off a salute, his wings lifting to attention.

"Yes ma'am, that's me!" he said. "Aerialbot Air Raid, at your service. Um. Are you my contact here in Diego Garcia, ma'am?"

[Deleted]

<<Consider Jazz out, to let Raid and Marissa be bros! >>

[Deleted]

The 'oh crap' face was a study. Marissa was familiar enough with it from dealing with lower-ranked soldiers of her own species (or the occasional similar-ranked soldier who was about to learn exactly how much she did not suffer fools). She found herself grinning, the "giant robot this is so cool" factor combining with the reassurance that she knew exactly how to deal with this one.

"That's right," she confirmed. "Captain Marissa Faireborne, US Air Force. Welcome to Diego Garcia, Air Raid. I assume you've had your own mission briefing already...?" If not, she could pass on what Prime and Agent Fowler had told her. "If so, we can get in the air as soon as Control gives us the go-ahead. I'm looking forward to flying with you." And she was. Giant alien robot aside, Marissa had a fighter pilot's competitiveness, and she wanted to see what Air Raid could do.

The smarter or more studious of the flight crew were drifting back to their own duties, sensing that story time was over; the rest took the hint at a cool glance from Marissa, and scurried off.

[Deleted]

Air Raid remained standing at attention as the men and women of the ground crew returned to their duties. His hand was fixed to his brow, until he realised that he was still saluting and quickly jerked it down.

To his relief, the human pilot did not seem offended by his gaff, but had graciously – even good humouredly – allowed it to slide. Thank Primus. It would not have been the first time that he had allowed his foot to run headlong into his mouth. It would, however, have been the first time that his mouth had caused a cross–species military incident.

Well, Silverbolt always said that he was the one to find new kinds of trouble to get into. He was a trailblazer.

His embarrassment vanished. Air Raid took the opportunity to study the woman before him in curiosity.

She was a pilot, no doubt about that. It wasn’t just the flight suit that gave it away. An air of relaxed confidence and authority seemed to radiate about her. And she was a captain too. Captain Marissa Faireborne.

A captain. So, she outranked him.

That was–

That was kind of hot, actually.

“Yes ma’am, briefed and ready to get airborne at any time,” he said. He flashed her his best smile, loaded with charm. “And looking forward to kicking Decepticon ass with you, ma’am. And, uh. The rest of your team.”

[Deleted]

He certainly recovered quickly, Marissa reflected. That was a good sign. "I and the rest of my team," she answered with a level calmness that belied the amusement she knew showed on her face, "are equally looking forward to kicking Decepticon ass with you. Give me a moment to get my wings on, then come join me in the air."

'Looking forward' was an understatement, but Marissa schooled herself to outward calmness as she strode to her F-22. She'd checked it over herself before reporting to Fowler and the Prime - not that she doubted the Diego Garcia techs, but when one was entrusting oneself to thirty tons of metal and military technology and asking it to fling her into the stratosphere at speeds a human could barely contemplate, one just felt the need to make extra sure. Now she performed a quick visual check (again, just to be extra sure), received her tech's assurances that she was fully fueled and ready to go, and clambered into the cockpit.

"Diego Tower, this is Princess, requesting takeoff instructions." First two rules of fighter pilot training: you WILL get a nickname, and you WILL hate it. Marissa thought she heard a snicker over the radio and resolved revenge at the earliest opportunity.

"Roger that, Princess."

Marissa received her instructions; then she was in the air, and petty things like revenge fell away in a rush of euphoria. Even Air Raid, giant robot alien partner that he was, fit seamlessly into the spell that was flight as he settled into position on her wing. Marissa grinned out of her cockpit window at him, though she wasn't sure he could make her out. "So tell me about these Decepticon fliers - the Seekers. You've flown against them before, right?" she asked him.