Airborn is Reborn (One shot flashback)
Oct 30, 2014 18:11:06 GMT -5
Post by Deleted on Oct 30, 2014 18:11:06 GMT -5
Within the midst of the Strategic Air and Space Museum in Ashland, Nebraska, a circular portal of scintillating green energy emerged. It was a doorway in space, a wormhole between two points, and through it emerged a creature. Constructed of metals and ceramics and numerous other durable materials, the local intelligent life forms would have referred to the creature as a robot – possibly Japanese. The creature was alien to the planet it was on, instead it was native to a planet loosly translated as Cybertron. Its name very directly translated as Sunspot. Bipedal, white and yellow, it stood in stark contrast to the hangar full of Terran Aircraft. The creature turned its head to watch the portal from which it came disappear. It then turned to survey its surroundings. The light from its huge blue optical orbital support ring failed to provide sufficient illumination. On either side of the creature’s head was a disc like structure, and from these structures, two lights appeared shining wherever the creature aimed its head.
It looked around the hangar and marvelled at the vehicles of the native life. The creature was significantly smaller than the biggest vehicles but about the same size as the smallest. It moved with delicate caution around the aircraft with obvious curiosity. It leaned in to look closer at details as they took its interest. The creature, although not intelligent by the standards of its peers, considered these vehicles of the air, and the life forms they were designed to carry into battle. It marvelled at the designs, so crude and yet functional and elegant...and mostly boring in color. Some of the vehicles were cruder than others, but the speed at which the intelligent life evolved their technology was staggering. All of this was irrelevant however as the creature was looking for one singular example of aircraft. The creature had been informed that somewhere in this museum was a vehicle that was a close match for size and mass to its own. It was looking for it.
After much inefficient searching as it examined one aircraft after another, the creature found its object of desire. It was the smallest aerial vehicle in the hangar. The creature considered the form of this vehicle simultaneously amusingly and wonderful, with its many tail surfaces and rounded bulbous fuselage. From the creature’s blue optic emerged a green scanning light that played over the vehicle and measured every physical detail and dimension.
For a moment the creature stood and stared at nothing in particular. Soon though, there was a series of sounds from the interior of the creature, gears spinning, pistons sliding, parts, so many parts moving against each other. Within the space of three seconds, the creature, the alien robot, had transformed into a replica of the XF 85 Goblin jet fighter it had scanned. Slowly, it tipped to lean on one wingtip with a click of metal on concrete. This aerial vehicle had no landing gear on which to properly sit. The original was sitting in a cradle while the alien clone was on the bare concrete. Then other small changes happened. The riveted skin of the alien Goblin smoothed over, seams disappeared, and the nose hook retracted and fused it mass with the rest of the nose. Four gun ports emerged and most notably, the unpainted silver skin turned white with a yellow pattern, and lastly, the US Air force roundel was replaced with an alien one.
The creature still appeared to be a XF 85 Goblin jet, but a different one, and hopefully less suspicious for it. It transformed once more to its primary bipedal state, and there were small differences in the details from before, those picked up from its disguise. The transformer now had two options, it could summon another portal to take it back from whence it came or it could go for a test flight. It was really an easy decision, already made before it was really offered. It strode over to one huge hangar door, causally broke locks with its imposing alien size and strength and slid the door open. Alarms were instantly triggered. The creature was startled, even though it expected the alarms. Strong legs took the creature to a sprint in half a dozen foot falls, enough speed for it to leap into the air, transform into a small yellow and white jet and take off.
Mindful of the radar systems the natives employed, the tiny jet skimmed tree lines and rooftops with barely a score of meters clearance. While the thunderous noise it made in passing might have been trackable, the fact that it was moving at half the speed of sound would make such a task less than easy. The creature, headed west, chasing the setting sun. It followed rivers and roads, sometimes the natural terrain and sometimes no obvious path at all. Sunspot was a sentient creature, and possessed a soul of sorts. This soul was filled with the pure and simple joy of flying.
It looked around the hangar and marvelled at the vehicles of the native life. The creature was significantly smaller than the biggest vehicles but about the same size as the smallest. It moved with delicate caution around the aircraft with obvious curiosity. It leaned in to look closer at details as they took its interest. The creature, although not intelligent by the standards of its peers, considered these vehicles of the air, and the life forms they were designed to carry into battle. It marvelled at the designs, so crude and yet functional and elegant...and mostly boring in color. Some of the vehicles were cruder than others, but the speed at which the intelligent life evolved their technology was staggering. All of this was irrelevant however as the creature was looking for one singular example of aircraft. The creature had been informed that somewhere in this museum was a vehicle that was a close match for size and mass to its own. It was looking for it.
After much inefficient searching as it examined one aircraft after another, the creature found its object of desire. It was the smallest aerial vehicle in the hangar. The creature considered the form of this vehicle simultaneously amusingly and wonderful, with its many tail surfaces and rounded bulbous fuselage. From the creature’s blue optic emerged a green scanning light that played over the vehicle and measured every physical detail and dimension.
For a moment the creature stood and stared at nothing in particular. Soon though, there was a series of sounds from the interior of the creature, gears spinning, pistons sliding, parts, so many parts moving against each other. Within the space of three seconds, the creature, the alien robot, had transformed into a replica of the XF 85 Goblin jet fighter it had scanned. Slowly, it tipped to lean on one wingtip with a click of metal on concrete. This aerial vehicle had no landing gear on which to properly sit. The original was sitting in a cradle while the alien clone was on the bare concrete. Then other small changes happened. The riveted skin of the alien Goblin smoothed over, seams disappeared, and the nose hook retracted and fused it mass with the rest of the nose. Four gun ports emerged and most notably, the unpainted silver skin turned white with a yellow pattern, and lastly, the US Air force roundel was replaced with an alien one.
The creature still appeared to be a XF 85 Goblin jet, but a different one, and hopefully less suspicious for it. It transformed once more to its primary bipedal state, and there were small differences in the details from before, those picked up from its disguise. The transformer now had two options, it could summon another portal to take it back from whence it came or it could go for a test flight. It was really an easy decision, already made before it was really offered. It strode over to one huge hangar door, causally broke locks with its imposing alien size and strength and slid the door open. Alarms were instantly triggered. The creature was startled, even though it expected the alarms. Strong legs took the creature to a sprint in half a dozen foot falls, enough speed for it to leap into the air, transform into a small yellow and white jet and take off.
Mindful of the radar systems the natives employed, the tiny jet skimmed tree lines and rooftops with barely a score of meters clearance. While the thunderous noise it made in passing might have been trackable, the fact that it was moving at half the speed of sound would make such a task less than easy. The creature, headed west, chasing the setting sun. It followed rivers and roads, sometimes the natural terrain and sometimes no obvious path at all. Sunspot was a sentient creature, and possessed a soul of sorts. This soul was filled with the pure and simple joy of flying.