[ti]Ep 2.5[/ti]Moving in [Javelin/Open]

[Deleted]

Week 1
Day 5

Three whole days.

Three whole days of nothing and silence.

Quite the return to past days as a military grunt. Waiting for the mission or the next call to arms. Or as they alway put: “Hurry up to wait.” Called in for a morning patrol, 0600 sharp, only to wake at 0530, dress, stuff food down your face hole, get to the meeting point at 0600, and wait two hours before C.O. actually decided to show his shiny ass up.

Odessa let out a silenced grunt. Sitting on one of the many boxes brought over from his junkyard. Over the past two days, Dess had be feverently and excitedly preparing to move a large portion of his work from the dust strangled sun blasted lands of South Louisiana to the cozy confines of a dank concrete warehouse. Not that he’s complaining. Have you ever been in the military? People having to sleep under tanks and stuff. I digress.

Odessa was told that he’d have the company of one of the bots to help him in this endeavor. Not that he needed much. He didn’t have too much left and that alot of what he wanted to transfer here today was already packed and loaded onto the back of a large flatbed truck. Odessa had many plans on how to help the Bots. One of them being a large truck with gross towing capability capable of pulling around wounded bots that needed out of the action. Getting ahead of himself. He mentally started going over what was needed for his trip back to the base. Most notably a change of clothes and some Ramen.

Still mulling over the moments awaiting for the one who was to help him in this endeavor.

Geez, couldn't they hurry up? No, Calm down Dessy. Remember to have patience, this isn't something you aren’t already used to.

[Javelin]

(rewritten because I am dumb)

The heat of the sun on Javelin’s frame felt good.

Driving along the highway, the blue scout was returning from a patrol within Jasper when she had been asked to lend a hand to one of their human allies. Having been given an image of what he looked like, she figured it wouldn’t take too much to locate him.

Easing off the asphalt and onto hard packed dirt, Javelin turned down the Top 40 she had been blasting, scanning the area ahead. There was most likely no Decepticons around, but...she was cautious.

Always cautious.

Her holoform avatar peered through the windshield, green eyes looking for any signs anything was out of the ordinary. Shoulder length copper hair moved gently in the wind, freckles decorating pale skin. A bush hat hung on her back, ready in case of need. White tank top covered by a black and white checkered short sleeve blouse tied at the waist, and dark green cargo shorts ending mid thigh. On her feet were dark green army boots. She looked like an Archaeology student fresh from the field, complete with scuffed boots.

Up ahead, both her scan and eyes caught sight of a bored looking human male, seated on a box, and next to him the unmistakable sight of a freshly opened ground bridge.

Well, this was obviously her contact.

Javelin’s engine purred gently as she drove up to the human. As she approached, she let her holoform dissemble into blue pixels. There was a second pause, and Javelin transformed.

The vehicle seemed to lurch upwards, splitting in the middle. Legs, then arms appeared, her upper torso almost rising up out of the central mass. Panels rotated, shifted, and settled back in place, gears whirling and pistons quietly hissing, until she stood in her root mode, lightly stretching out a leg behind her. That leg always felt cramped a little after being in her alt mode.

Javelin cast a quick look around the area, taking into account barriers and places to hide, to shoot from, to take shelter. It was second nature to her.

Looking down at Odessa, she nodded.

“You must be Odessa Kerrick,” she offered a friendly smile, “My designation in your tongue is Javelin. I’m here to help with the moving of your resources.”

[Deleted]

Odessa’s eyes rose to the loud buzz off in the distance. The sound of tires squealing at the touch of a speedy drop onto concrete. A car had just touched pavement up the silo’s entrance. The Doppler effect becoming rather pronounced with the sound insulated by concrete. He caught sight of illumination as the sound reared a corner, followed then by the source of the lights - headlights, then a sleek and beautiful blue body with cool purple trim. Good choice.

That must’ve been his contact. He hopped off the box and took two steps forward shifting his body to give this newcomer attention. The car approached him. Humming to a stop. A familiar transformation of mechanisms. Writhing metal pieces lost in a swarm of metallic mass, Moving to and fro from inside and outside this body. He couldn’t even follow the ebb and flow of interlocking pieces but as each second passed, the form grew clearer and clearer. A sleeker and smoother body than what he’d seen before. His only experience with these creatures were heavy, bulky cores, with wide thick arms. This one was thing, streamlined and without a hint of harsh edge to her. Soft curves lined this one's body. A single word to separate this one from the others, feminine.

Then her voice came. Specifically having to mention the word, her. He shot this - Javelin - a quizzed glare. It never occurred to him to think the more masculine voices back in his junkyard to be “male”, but now that there was a contrast, it stood out. Strangely it made her proportions stand out as well. Bust - Waist - Hips. And a whooooole lotta legs. Damn girl.

“ErrrrYeah. I am Odessa.” Ok, so she was the one to lend help. “Alright, well it isn’t much left. I have a truck ready to come through. Its packed with alot of my things, but I’ve still got a few boxes that need to be loaded. Drive it through and I should be good to get started here. Gonna take it to one of the empty store rooms to use as a workshop.” He’d point off in the general distance towards his assigned room.

“Its nice to meet you Jav… er… Javelin.”

This was another brick thrown at the brain. Curious as to why to be dimorphic in their species. Still. Quite the welcoming one.

“Errr, Ready to get started?”

[Javelin]

Javelin had spent a few hours downloading as much information on the Humans as she could so she would understand them more. Her short time on Earth before being rescued from Soundwave by Bluestreak had taught her the basics: three main basic forms, adult male, adult female, and children, smaller versions of the former two. They came in various colors, sizes and shapes. Having spent a lot of time on other planets, she was familiar with this biological setup (as well as many, many others), but the nuances of Humanity were new to her.

This human’s face and tone seemed to suggest a slight form of confusion and hesitation, and she hoped she hadn’t somehow broken some earth custom already. Maybe she should have introduced herself before transforming? Maybe she had been too close? Not considered a large member of their race by any means, Javelin knew she was still taller than the majority of Humanity.

Deciding to not make an issue of it, she forged ahead.

A smile, “I am pleased to make your acquaintance. You’re one of the first humans I have actually interacted with, so excuse anything weird I might say or do.”

A quick glance around to the settings, and she nodded, “A human vehicle will easily fit through our ground bridge, and I should be able to deal with the other boxes easily enough.” Blue green optics settled on him, “Have you travelled by ground bridge before? I only ask because it can unsettle many people the first few times.”

At this Javelin gave a grin, “It still makes my componants feel weird.”

Javelin glanced towards Ratchet, who had entered the main room, moving towards the controls for the ground bridge. As she nodded to him, she kept talking to Odessa.

“I have to say, it’s odd having to try and conceal our presence from your species. We’re much more used to the top sentient race knowing of our existence before we arrive. Sadly, a great number of them want nothing to do with us. There are entire planet systems where Mechanized races aren’t allowed to enter, it’s shoot-on-sight.”

A glance to Odessa to make sure he was ready.

Another nod to Ratchet, and the medic opened the bridge. A loud Ka-chunk sounded as the heavy lever was activated. The bright blue green bridge exploded into life, roiling and moving in a circle, as if smoke made of light.

Javelin smiled down at Odessa, and extended an arm towards the bridge, servo out, “After you, sir.”

[Deleted]

“Likewise and you’re the first alien race I’ve ever met” He showed with a slight grin and giggle. “Don’t worry about it. Trust me, I was in the military for eight years. I’m used to weird stuff. I doubt you could match what we used to call, the Soppet Moppet… and you… don’t wanna know.” Saying the word brought back some undesirable memories. PTSD intensifies.

Her desire for proper etiquette was amusing and adorable in one. Like that kid that always wanted to fit in. It was cute.

“I think so. The trucks as big as Optimus, only longer. I’ma use it as a support truck. Carry supplies into the field. Carry supplies out. Ammunition, spare gear, wounded… “Medical” supplies. Whatever you guys use.”He was patient in allowing her to completely finish a though, even giving a slight pause of silence before returning an answer in the continued string of question. “This will be my third time through the ground bridge. First time, when I got with Optimus and talk to Fowler. Second time the other day to finagle things over and set ground rules, and this’ll be my third. I don’t have any problems with it. It could be some Electromagnetic resonance or radiation, judging by the fact that you’re metal. I wouldn’t know without instruments to study it, but I’m not sure Optimus would take kind to a new guy sniffing around things.”

Dessy took notice of a new bot who’d enter the room but ultimately paid him no mind. His attention turned back to Javelin. “I’m not too familiar with what happens on this base. How many other humans know about you all? Is this a trivial thing for me to be here?” Listen to him trying to be just as polite. After all, this was akin to a kid asking his best friend to stay the night, actually getting to, and their first time over. Don’t step on any toes.

Well, she answered his question in her next statement. Guess he's one of the lucky few to know of their existence. Back on the Black Ops list. No talky-talky about anything metal. And another realization. “Top sentient races.” Humans really weren’t alone. That was something to ask Optimus when he became more acquainted with the Bots. What really else was out there.

He turned back to the ground bridge as it flashed to life in a beautiful hissing of space-time abusement and rampant quantum entanglement.

“Oh my. I do declare’ you to be quite the gentleman.” He layered on a thick stereotypical southern accent. “Always taking care of a fine southern belle like myself.” He teased in giggling manner. Not really thinking if the joke might not come across. He took down the access to the bridge first. Turning to face her, walking backwards into the gate.

“You might want to stay in your car-form. Just in case someone's there. My Shop and Yard should be closed, and no one shoul-”

Odi misjudged his words and disappeared through the teleporter. In an instant of bright light and an audial flash of sound, Odessa walked into the dreaded Louisiana Sun. The instantaneous feeling one-hundred degree heat index hitting like a wall in contrast the the cool underground base.

“-d be here but just to be… dammit.” He turned to gaze over his scrap yard. Taking clear note that not a soul was here. She’d be safe to move comfortable in her robot-form. Ahead of his was a large, almost military looking Semi. As large as a Optimus, and some times longer. Mostly in that it held no trailer, but was all one long piece. Going straight from Engine and cab to trailer in one package. At the very end was an empty flatbed for miscellaneous cargo, or even so that a bot can be carried in our out on it.

The yard itself was rather clean for once. Having to had gone through the scrap to determine what was necessary and what was trash. By the large warehouse some fifty feet away were large silver canisters, larger than Odessa himself, roughly ten feet tall. Some of these were already onboard the truck. Odessa fumbled at the lock to the warehouse, opening the doors to an entrance of darkness, and stepped foot inside.

[Javelin]

Javelin observed and listened to Odessa as he spoke. She didn’t think anything of looking down at him, physically, not yet aware it made some humans uneasy. Javelin was quite used to talking to and dealing with other organic species. Some were smaller, some were larger, and it was just the way of things. If she herself wasn’t put out by looking up at a much larger Cybertronian or even another race as they looked down at her, why would anyone else mind? They were two different races. Sizes altered.

Soppet Moppet?

He almost seemed a little giddy, in her estimation, which was then explained when he told her theirs was the first alien race he had met.

Javelin wondered what it must be like, assuming for so long that your species was alone in the universe, only to be told that not only did others exist, but hey, there’s one now! Shortly after being forged, Javelin had been made aware there were millions of other planets out there with millions of other species. It wasn’t a big deal to her people.

When the Ground Bridge bloomed into being, and she had motioned for him to go through, his words confused her. Why was he suddenly talking in a different accent?

Southern Bell? I’ll have to search for that later.

She fell into step behind him, looking around the area curiously. There was a lot of…stuff…there, that was for certain. Remaining a polite distance behind him as he unlocked his warehouse, she followed him forward, peering in after him.

“Back up in such a system sounds like a good idea. Although the battles here on Earth probably aren’t as extreme as the others. There aren’t enough of us here to make for a large fighting area.”

Blue green optics flicked here and there as she continued to observe, remaining outside for now, “Although if Megatron and Optimus actually battle one to one, I can imagine it would encompass a large area.

Logistics can be troublesome. There have been times our soldiers had to wait quite a long time to refuel or get new ammo. At least that’s what I’ve been told. My own personal experience hasn’t been one of front line brawling or shooting.”

She turned, looking back over the yard again, then at the truck, with the large canisters, before looking back his way, “You are an inventor, right?”

Hands folded neatly behind her back. As a scout, Javelin had been first contact with many species, both familiar and non familiar with her kind. As a result, she remained in her “diplomat” mode.

Behind her, the Ground Bridge powered off, conserving fuel until she contacted them again.

She suddenly remembered something he had asked back at the base, and she spoke again.

“Your presence is a rarity in our base, yes. Although there are humans aware of us, they are military, as it was necessary for us to make contact with the leaders of this country. Apparently, when the Ark first crashed, the Autobots were in bad shape, and needed assistance.

Civilians, on the other hand, no. There are very few of them, save for the human children. There are three of them, two males and one female. I haven’t met them yet, though I have caught a glimpse of them as they run about the base. The youngest two, in particular, are rather…cheerful.”

A faint smile formed on her face.

A thought came to her, and she spoke again, waiting to be told what to help with, “Do you have any questions not already answered by Optimus Prime? I can do my best to answer them.”

She took another step forward, falling into the shadow of the building, optics and bio lights seeming brighter by contrast.

[Deleted]

One godray cutting slice through the darkness of the warehouse’s stomach revealing shining chrome. Not enough to reveal what was the object. Noise echoed the warehouse, Odessa meandering amongst the darkness of something. Clings and clangs as he moved through the area.

“The hell is it? What the shit?” More shamblings. “There we go!” He perked up within the darkness, and all was light.

Odi was standing beneath a pull chain which was connected to long tube lights above. Quite the stereotypical mechanics shop. One end of the shop had two long parallel benches cluttered with small parts, both complete and in pieces. A large open space in the middle with some retangular contraption in tarp. Off in the other corner, a car lift and a wall of mechanic’s parts. Finally an untold amount of clutter about. No doubt what he was tripping on. He looked proud of his little mound of scraps. They were his claims of greatness afterall.

One could pick up any object in the room and Odessa would have a story for it. He went around the Warehouse picking things up, examining them, setting some down and taking others. Taking a peculiar amount of time between the items. Weighing exactly which ones were needed, weighing how effective they were, or could be.

“You’d be surprised how terrible wars can be here. As a matter of fact, humanity hasn’t had a proper war in over forty years. Because we have a single weapon that can cause more damage in an instant, than years of conflict. A weapon powerful enough to even vaporize your race. Trust me when I say that even one human can cause a lot of damage. You have to remember that humans are creatures of necessity. We only make the bare minimum of what we need for a situation. Our small guns may not be effective against you, but they are gravely effective against ourselves. Imagine what happens if the world finds out you exist. Imagine what we would then start to make.” quite a dark turn, even for him.

He continued to move around his shop, grabbing items. Then a cardboard box, stuffing it full. “Can you grab that pipe please?” He motioned towards a large cylinder next to her. It was largely empty but still held some importance. “It’s hard to imagine Optimus getting into a fight. He seems so aversive to it.

…

Well, I don’t know how much help I can provide in combat. I can still help in my own small ways. At the very least until I can make something very effective against…” he paused for a moment. Realizing how touchy his words might becomes. “Against our enemies.” Odessa’s writer forgetting is Javelin ever mentioned Decepticons as their enemies and being too lazy to look everything back up.

“Yyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyep.” He said “matter-of-fact” like… in the midst of many creations. “Oh, speaking of which, can you grab that frame and the tarp and take it to the truck please?” He pointed to the large rectangular object off in the center of the room. “And then this engine for it.” He pointed reversely to an engine lift where a large engine was hoisted. “Here's one way I’ll help. When I was younger, me and my cousins used to strap engines to objects and ride them like go-karts. We put a chainsaw motor on a barstool. My cousin Keith lost two of his front teeth and got road rash over a third of his body. Was great. Then we put a go-kart motor on a recliner for my dad. I’ve just got to wield a few points, bolt down the motor with resistor pads so the frame doesn't twist itself in half and it’d be good to go.” He pulled back the tarp off the contraption and revealed a bare metal frame on wheels. It was a large dune-buggy frame with a large empty space for the engine. “Fowler can get me a bunch of gas for free right? Ehhhhhh yeah he’ll do it. Don’t worry. There's much more to come.”




“Mmmm, the brass then. I guess the president doesn’t even know. Even someone as powerful as the president… eight years isn’t long enough for this kinda knowledge. Guess I’ll consider myself honored.

…

Yeah. That's why I don’t really want kids myself. Always too happy… but I’m not surprised. A person is smart, intelligent, welcoming, even as some people like you, but people are stupid, scared little animals. Start crying out for the government to control you. Humans don’t like not being on the top of the food chain. We aren’t ready for y’all yet. Euuuhh, Sorry. I don’t mean to be a downer.”

“The only thing that comes to my mind at the moment are these peeps your at war with. Who are they? Optimus didn’t go into detail, and it seems like he already has a lot on his plate so I don't want to be a bother, but that also gives me an idea to make something for ya’ll. Maybe something I can do to help take the edge off.”

[Javelin]

Javelin continued to peer inside as Odessa moved through his warehouse, trying to hide a faint smile as he muttered to himself. Some things apparently were inherent in more than just one race, and one of those was that inventors were an odd group.

As the lights flickered on, she stepped inside fully, green blue optics peering around, taking everything in. The benches, the tarp, the car lift….everything was quickly noticed and analyzed.

Carefully picking her way through the warehouse, not wanting to knock anything over or beat anything up, she almost daintily side stepped to try and keep near him so he wouldn’t have to raise his voice to speak.

Javelin listened as he spoke, optics watching his movements. His words seemed to spark an interest in her. She had seen videos of human history on the internet, and all it entailed.

“You speak of Nuclear Weapons,” she said, nodding, “Yours is not the only species that has learned the power of splitting atoms. But there have been others who have used them, and destroyed themselves. Although the weapons are cataclysmic, there is hope in the fact you understand the devastation it can cause and haven’t used it yet.”

At his request, she turned, located the pipe he spoke of, and nodded, moving towards it. Slipping her fingers about it, she easily hefted it in both hands.

“War is….well. There really is no explaining it, is there?”

At his next request, Javelin paused. She still wasn’t entirely sure what he wanted with the cylinder, so she took it over towards where the frame and tarp lay. Carefully putting the cylinder down with plans to come back for it, she took ahold of the frame and gave it an experimental tug. Seeing it wasn’t too heavy, she drew it in closed, and stood, lifting it from the floor. Carefully watching her steps as she took the frame and tarp to the flatbed, and put it down with a clang. A slight adjustment to ensure it was positioned properly, and she turned to move towards the engine.

Javelin smiled as he spoke of his adventures when he was younger, though a little concerned. As far as she knew, humans couldn’t get their body parts replaced as easily as they did, but she wasn’t sure how important teeth were to them. Surely if they didn’t lose them all they wouldn’t starve? It seemed impolite to ask.

“Fowler? Uh….I’m not-”

Bemused as he seemed to forge on ahead talking without really waiting for an answer, she continued to listen as she walked towards the engine. She eyed it as she approached, calculating where to get a good grasp on it.

A faint laugh as she looked back at him when he spoke of children. It was a subject she literally had no experience with. The concept was utterly foreign to her, so she made no reply to that. There was no way she could say anything that wouldn’t sound wrong.

Standing before the engine, Javelin reached out and laid both hands on either side, looking for a good grip. A faint tug. Oh. This was actually heavier than she thought. Not heavy heavy, just heavier.

Getting a good grip, she heaved the engine off the lift, pausing to give it a slight heft up higher, ensuring a good grip, before turning and starting back to the flatbed.

“Oh. Uh..”

As she walked, Javelin went over the situation in her head. How to explain? Yes, humans had wars, but…not like this.

Her footsteps heavier now, she was silent as she made her way to the flatbed, and slid it onto the truck. She lifted it a few times as she adjusted it, making sure it too was centered properly, before standing, and looking back at Odessa.

“They’re called Decepticons. Our war is….complex. Depending on who you ask, I suppose.”

Subconsciously, Javelin rubbed one upper arm with the opposing servo, “It’s hard to understand to those involved in it, really. Don’t be offended if Optimus doesn’t tell you much. He doesn’t want to bring anything to your door you’re not prepared for. Your species, I mean. We’ve had….bad experiences with that before. But…yes. Decepticons. Their leader is called Megatron. We’ve been fighting with them for a very long time.”

[Deleted]

Odessa was grateful for the help, and as a result would do his utmost to rely on her as little as possible. Southern hospitality and all, even with volunteered help. It was still customary to try put as little work on others as possible. Still, some things couldn't be moved by human hands. Namely the chrome containers packed to the brim with parts and gizmos. No doubt even her would have trouble with them.

“Nuclear, Thermonuclear, Cobalt, Hydrogen, Pure Fusion, Boosted, Salt, Neutron, many names for many types. The only reason we don’t use them because of a policy we have. M.A.D. - Mutually Assured Destruction, if everyone has nukes then no one uses them. War ceases, but thats not the only thing that prevents our wars. We’ve found that waging an economic war is greatly more beneficial and effective than a proper war. It’s cheaper to just out perform your enemies and let them fall internally than to ever put boots on the ground. If we take away a country’s economy they can’t fund an army. Then our country gains even more power. E - Z - P - Z.” He carted his teeny-tiny personal crate outside to the truck. Setting it down on the flatbed. Then went to Javelin to help guide her place the engine safely on the bed. Grabbing up straps and strapping down the engine on special support blocks. Can’t have the engines weight crushing itself. Back into the warehouse he zipped. Eager to get back to the base and get to work. “I suppose that's good to know. About other races I mean. Humans always kinda knew we weren’t alone in the universe, but its still hard to accept.”

“I would say war is simply aggression. War doesn’t changes. People do. But then I guess thats just from a soldier.” Odessa already had a second box ready and halfway full. “Then those large chrome boxes please, they might be too heavy for you. Let me get my forklift and lemmie’ help you.” He skittered off to the corner, returning with a motorized yellow palletjack. He’d put the forks in a space under the crates. He was a busy little bee.

“I’ll keep that in mind. I’ll shoot first and ask questions later. Decepticon sounds somewhat on the nose huh? Deception cons. But it's a little late huh? You all are already on our planet and by the sound of it, already fighting. I’d say it's already here. Quiet or not. If its who I ask, let me ask you to explain it. I’ll just ask Optimus at a later time, when he’d be more accepting of strangers.” He leaned into the tiny jack, awaiting her assistance.

“Also, I hope you don't mind me asking something personal… Why do you guys have two genders if you're robots? I’m sure you guys don't…..Mmmmmm…uhhh Reproduce.”

[Javelin]

Javelin watched as Odessa ran around, organizing things and putting things together. She was quietly amused when he ran to get the forklift before she had even tried. It was very sweet of him, but probably not necessary. Still, she wasn’t going to fight over it.

She nodded as he spoke about weapons.

“Our war never worried about that, at least not that I’m aware. Weapons that could kill both sides, I mean. Of course, I’m not exactly on gossip terms with High Command. Some of the weapons that were developed, though, are horrible enough. Diseases. Spark extractors….”

She gave a faint shudder, plates chittering faintly against each other.

Shaking her head, Javelin stepped forward, and crouching a little, slid her hands under the crates as well, nodding for him to lift, adding her own strength to it. It would be easy enough to move it to the truck.

“Our war didn’t start as aggression, though. Not exactly. We had a class system…a very unfair one, and people wanted to change it. It was based on what you did for society, and it was backwards. The more you did to ensure everything worked, and was safe for people, like miners and the like, the more “manual” your duty, the less you were worth. But the scientists and the like? Well, they had it all. It was stupid and wrong.”

Javelin’s normally happy voice changed for a minute, sounding bitter, and angry, but she quickly stuffed it back. Still helping move the box, she spoke again, “Unfortunately, it was how the change was to be brought about that started the war. No side was really innocent. Tempers flared, and suddenly, war.”

His next question caused an odd reaction in the femme. She almost stumbled for a second before righting herself, and burst out laughing.

“I suppose it doesn’t make sense for you, really. Organics are so used to the “sex”, as you say, of a person, being for reproductive purposes. But it’s not that simple. There are races out there with 4 sexes, and many genders.

But mechanized races have genders, and don’t reproduce the way you do. So let me ask you the question this way: If genders AREN’T for reproduction, as I am a prime example of, why do humans have reproduction attached to it?”

Not really waiting for an answer, she kept talking, “The answer is, no one knows. Why do you humans look like us? Our god, Primus, looks this way. Why do you? Why do you have such short lives, while other organic species live hundreds of years?
Our bodies…our frames….just house our sparks. We can even switch frames if needed, although it’s a very uncomfortable process. We can change form at will. We come in more than two forms. There is mech, and femme, similar in appearance to what you call men and women, but then we have non bipedal individuals who can take on the shapes of what you would call animals or even insects. They’re not cassettes, like Bolo, the large canine you met, they are as smart and aware as I am. Some are built into vehicles to steer them. Frames aren't that important to us, really. Our frames are just random. Just like the bodies of humans.”

[Deleted]

Odessa inserted a key into the forklift causing it to spring to life.

“We have something similar. We just don’t call it a class system. Hundreds of years ago, humans did in fact live like that. More prestigious jobs were more relaxed ones, but mostly it was based on your own intelligence. If you were smart and could run a business, you could make a little money.” A button on the lift started raising the forks. “Manage your money well and you could become a merchant. Pay others to do the hard work so you could sit back and reap the benefits.” Another button gave the softest whirr. Tiny little motors pushing the wheels along. Stopped by a grinding sound and a jolt of the lift. “Now a days we have that same problem just a little better veiled. Damn lift. Can pick up fifteen-thousand pounds but can't roll over a zip tie.” Backing the machine up, changing direction and moving again. Sweeping off a broken black zip tie with his foot..

“Manual labor is still seen as the lowest. Mainly because anyone can do it. We can’t just program our brains to learn a much sought after skill. We spend lots of money to go to school to spend years of our lives for a job we may not like or for a position that is already over saturated. That's mainly why manual labor is so cheap and seen as so low. Anyone can do it, so there's a large surplus of labor available. More people, companies know they cna pay less because if YOU won’t do it, they’ll get some poorer unfortunate sap who will. Doesn’t sound as bad as yours though. The way you make it sound, sounds forced. We can at least choose our poison. What about you? What did you do?”

While awaiting her response. He’d continue wheeling the large multi-ton box out to his truck.

“Thankfully we can’t turn into vehicles… Our planets too big to just roll over and punch a guy we have in the next country. I’m sure it's gonna be different as human technology and the money disparity grows.

Her words felt like a slap in the face with a fish. Not insulting but more of… What?.

“Genders are what we gave to define male and female. So yeah it is tied to reproduction. Defining our genitalia through lexicon. Sex really only has one purpose, reproduction, so yeah I’d say sex is properly attached to the word. Gender allows us to differentiate between the two making identification easier. A secondary effect being hormonal release because of it. Nothing we have control over.”

“Who said we look like you?" He'd smirk. "I'd say you look like us since we evolved independent of a creator. But from an inventor's point of view, I'd say because it is the simplest design. I can’t explain the why the way you look you do, but I can mine. Evolution favored somewhat a first-past-the-post narrative. The easiest way to get it done is the best way to do it. The way that spends the least amount of energy. Effort-to-effectiveness. Two eyes for depth perception, no third eye for redundancy. Two arms for manipulation, no third. Two legs for locomotion. Two kidneys when we only need one? Splitting the body in half makes it symmetrical. Making things symmetrical makes things even easier. Why spend the energy to make more when good enough is literally just ’good enough’. Back to the argument with you. Why aren’t our weapons effective against you? Because we never needed them before now they were good enough for us. Now that you exist. We need to make something effective against you and the easiest method to doing so becomes the norm. Not the best, but the first and the cheapest method. Even at the cost of our own lives. Fuck, I remember getting my first interceptor vest. It couldn’t stop a five-five-six round. We could make a better armor, but Pentagon didn’t want to spend billions researching better to spend billions more outfitting expendables with proper equipment.”

Letting her continue before jutting back in.

“Because we didn't get to choose our lifespan. Our bodies stopped producing stem cells right out of the womb. Strange considering that certain injuries wouldn’t be permanent if we continued making them. Our lifespans are short simply based on our telomeres unwinding and Im sure stem cells are humanities next intuition towards immortality… Well. I’m not gonna give you an earful. I’m sure I’ve talked you up enough. Besides, I'm a mechanical engineer, not a biologist. I’m just sometimes speaking out my ass. I wouldn't say we're random at all... but that goes back to you. What need is there for cybertronians to have multiple? Seems like quite a bit of redundant effort." He gave her a look over once more. Appreciating her figure. Sleek curves where they mattered most. Edges to accentuate.

"Not that I'm complaining." He managed at a whisper. "If you have no need for sex you have no need to differentiate between you all."

He’d struggle to get the box onto the back of his truck.

“Thanks for coming to help me by the way. Thanks for being so patient with me.”

[Javelin]

Javelin listened as he moved the forklift. She nodded a few times, then interjected.

“Our class system was different, though. While you value certain jobs over others, you still generally have a choice as to which jobs you want. We didn’t. For instance, on Cybertron - our planet - before the war, I was an Energon scout and messenger. So my body was developed further to aid that. Leaner for speed. I was developed to sense Energon, and programmed with abilities to find it. Others were created to be miners. They were programmed on how best to root out the Energon using tools. While I could learn to use a miner’s tool, it would be considered useless as I am not strong enough to use it. I was only given what I needed to do my job, and nothing else. I wasn’t asked what I wanted to do, and….to be honest….we never really thought about what we wanted to do. Not at first. We did what we were made for, and that was that. Even questioning it was considered wrong.

As if that wasn’t bad enough, as I said, the more manual the job, the worse you were treated, even though you had no choice in it. A miner was considered low class, but he or she had been made to be a miner.

You humans….your lives are so beautiful. Your children grow up, learning so much, and then they’re told “What do you want to be?” And they’re allowed to be that thing!”

Realizing she was getting a little emotional, and repeating herself, she laughed, embarassed, raising a servo to brush it away.

As Odessa brought over the cargo, Javelin moved forward to help push it from the forks, “And who says you developed independent of a creator?” she smiled.

“We have people that argue about that as well. Were we created by a supreme being? Did we just happen? I think it’s silly arguing about it because there’s no way you can ever prove it one way or the other. You can’t use science to prove or disprove faith because one of the tenants of science is that it must be measurable, and you can’t measure faith.”

Her smile faded as he spoke of weapons, “I’m actually sorry that your weapons will develop now that you know of our existence. It seems the more powerful a weapon, the more likely it is to turn on it’s holder. The Decepticons made a lot of terrible weapons, including what you’d call Biological weapons. Diseases. War is horrible, and neither side is right.”

Javelin pushed off a box, and started adjusting it so it would sit properly on the flatbed.

Speaking out of his ass? What does that mean!?

“As for why we have different forms, that’s one of those things I can’t answer. Few species know the entirety of their creation.”

Patting one of the boxes, Javelin smiled down at him, “Oh, no worries. Thank you for putting up with me. Sometimes I tend to talk too much.”