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Characters: Open Location: Nevada Desert, NV Content Warnings: cursing Plot Summary: After being shot down during a dogfight, Aurelie wakes up in the Nevada Desert only a few miles beyond the Autobot Outpost.
Her head was killing her! That alien bastard had actually shot her down! She'd get it for this, and for the lives it had taken. Aurelie rubbed at her head, noting that her helmet was cracked across the visor. At least she was on the ground, but why hadn't she hit the eject? Why wasn't she under open sky strapped into her seat with a parachute sitting billowed out behind her from the fall? She remembered hitting the button, but she was still inside her jet, and the nose was fully buried in a thick gritty sand.
Fantastic, ejection had failed. So she was lucky to be alive. She started taking stock. She didn't smell fuel, so the tank wasn't ruptured. Lucky. She was still strapped in, pulled forward due to the angle of the jet. Crack in the visor, possibly concussion given how badly her head hurt. Ribs felt bruised at least. Breathing was painful but didn't sound wrong to her ears. She wasn't medically trained, but she did know how to make sure she was well enough to leave her jet. Even if the fuel tank wasn't compromised, and the jet itself didn't seem to be on fire, she needed to set up a distress call and get out. Just in case. The jet could be replaced, she couldn't.
The cockpit was still intact. Lucky break again. Nose down, at this angle, could she even get it open enough to get out? She'd find out.
The brunette took a breath and let it out slow, calming herself. She then grabbed the comms and gave a soft cheer when they actually came online. Excellent. She did remember relaying a mayday, telling them she was ejecting, warning others in the area to vacate since she was sure her jet was going to explode. She remembered yelling at one of the remaining pilots still in the air to get the bastard for taking them out, then nothing. So, now she was on the ground. Had her call even gotten through?
After a moment she punched on the communications. "Base, this is Blaze. Made a hard touchdown, deep sand, unknown location. Bird's a loss. Injuries minimal, requesting pick-up." She kept the message short and clipped, knowing that if a military base heard her they'd know that 'Blaze' was a call-sign and otherwise follow the signal. She made sure she left on the distress signal and finally evacuated the jet itself.
With nowhere to go and no idea where she was, Aurelie had no choice but to sit and wait. If no one had shown up by nightfall she'd scout out a little ways and see if she could find a road. She didn't want to have to leave her bird. The Air Force would have her hide if someone scrapped that jet.
Several weeks without an incident, and Jetfire had chosen today of all days to pull his shift monitoring base security. He wagered that it was statistically likely that any other Autobot could have been on deck today, and not have had a situation arise on their watch. Jetfire was biased towards himself, of course. From the sensors it appeared to be an emergency landing on the edge of their perimeter, just a few miles out. The Air Commander would've classified their crashed friend as a Cybertronian, had he not looked into the syntax of the distress signal. No, they were a human alright. They referred to their craft as a bird, for starters. No self-respecting Cybertronian would've called their alt mode a bird, besides perhaps Jetfire himself. Or Skylynx, but he wasn't here.
For the sake of secrecy, simply flying up and checking the crash out in person was off the table. Instead, Jetfire opted to visit the crash site in person.
His holomatter avatar materialized about 15 meters away from the reported impact site, taking a moment to get his bearings. His avatar was a blond Caucasian male of excellent health, in his late thirties. He was garbed in a brown bomber jacket with numerous patches stitched in on the chest and shoulders, prominently displaying a stylized Autobot logo on his right shoulder; on the bridge of his nose sat a pair of black aviators, reflecting the sun from the avatar's eyes with a distinctive sheen. Once Jetfire had silently appraised and approved of his new appearance, he quickly made his way towards the cockpit of the craft, approaching from behind.
Jetfire took a cursory glance at the pilot, still alive for the moment at least. Having already planned out his responses, he took a step closer to rap his knuckle on the side of the aircraft, attempting to get the human's attention.
She'd sat in the shadow cast by her nose down jet, pulling off her helmet to set at her side while she waited. It was already hot as hell out here, no reason to make things worse than they already were. She hadn't been waiting all that long, only fifteen or twenty minutes if she gauged it right, before someone knocked on the side of her bird. She started and looked up, coming to her feet and shooting a cursery look at who had approached her.
Male, mid-thirties maybe, looked civilian but had the baring for military. Retired or off duty? She didn't know. Man certainly wasn't active military if he was military at all. Not dressed like that. And the hell was that goofy looking logo on his shoulder anyway?
Well, beggers couldn't be choosers. She could be nice. "You are a sight for sore eyes." She held her hand out, offering it to shake. She looked around him as well and frowned. "How'd you get out here even? I don't see a vehicle, and it sure is too blazing hot to be hiking. Where am I even, could you tell me?"
She actually face palmed. "Listen to me, rambling on. Sorry, took a knock to the ole' noggin. Name's Aurelie." The jet spoke to her profession, so she didn't feel the need to explain that she was with the Air Force. Not that this guy would probably care.
She was pretty upbeat for a human who'd just survived crashing her jet in the middle of a desert, that much was certain. Jetfire shook the woman's hand, folding his arms over his chest once the non-verbal greetings were out of the way. She was definitely correct to be suspicious about the fact that a random human had arrived at her crash site, without a proper mode of transportation. Despite having changed virtually everything about his appearance, Jetfire retained his accent, "Don't worry, Aurelie; I am most certainly, definitely a mirage brought on by heatstroke."
Jetfire paused to stroke his chin, pointing off in the direction directly behind the human pilot, "Though, if your subconscious had to hazard a guess, I'd say you're about seventeen miles due south of a United States military base located in southern Nevada. Just my estimate." The avatar pressed a finger down on the top of his sunglasses, giving Aurelie a very trustworthy wink. "But, it is mid-day and I wouldn't advise making the trip on foot."
So, he thought she was stupid. Why the hell had he come out to her, gotten her attention, if he had no intention of helping her? He'd just gone from helpful civilian to Grade A jerkwad?
The genial smile she'd put on fell from her face as she drew her shoulders back and straightened her spine. Military baring and stance, not some ninny he could play his games with as it suited him. "You have some nerve, showing up here all nice like and then trying to pull that bullshit with me. If you don't want to help me then go the hell away, I'll wait." If there really was a base nearby they'd come to collect her and her bird eventually. "You aren't as cute as you think you are, and that derpy looking logo on your jacket looks like a constipated gecko."
She stepped back, taking a deep breath before she did something she'd get into trouble for later. Like hitting him. He thought he was being clever, winking at her and trying to seem helpful. Bullshit.
And then his words hit her. "Nevada?" So at least she was still in the state. But still. "Look, I just got out of a dogfight over Mission City. My entire squad are probably dead, I don't have the patience to deal with a damned civilian with ideas of screwing with my head. I have had enough for one day. So turn your ass around and go back to whatever hole you crawled out of, or actually do something to help."
Jetfire listened quietly as he was subjected to a ruthless battery of sass-fueled insult after insult, now partially understanding the Decepticons' distaste for humans. Despite having ample reason to, the Autobot responded to none of her provocations, instead meeting her gaze with steeled composure; after all, he wasn't the one who could die of thirst or heat out here. If Aurelie was truly expecting 'help' to come from Omega-1, she would be here for the rest of her days. In truth, her help was standing before her, with a logo that apparently looked like a gekko stitched into his shoulder. She wasn't going to die alone in the desert at least, not while it was Jetfire's shift.
"...give me a moment..." he asked, placing his index finger and thumb on the rims of the glasses. An alien-looking heads up display appeared on the aviators a moment later, backwards from Aurelie's point of view. Jetfire cast his gaze downwards as he diverted his attention to unlocking Omega-1's hangar bay doors. As his physical body took off from the old missile silo in jet form, he asked the human a simple question, his gaze still tilted down, "Mission City... who, or what exactly attacked you?"
Meanwhile, the actual Jetfire was covering a healthy bit of ground as he sped towards the crash site. At this point, what was another human that knew about the existence of the Autobots? The base was practically swarming with them at this point.
"A follow up question, if I may. Have you ever seen Top Gun?" Jetfire asked, just as his physical self could be seen on the distant horizon. "Or better yet, Knight Rider?"
She passed a hand through her hair then, realizing it was starting to come down. She'd fix it later. For now she was trying to decide how to feel about this situation and the hot-cold attitude of this idiot in front of her. She actually took a few steps back from the man and had the split second reaction of going for her gun, which she fought off. She really would get into trouble if she shot one in the ass of a civilian.
"The hell....?" She leaned against her jet, letting the reality of it keep her rooted as she started trying to decide if she really was hallucinating due to the heat. "F-22, covered in weird markings. Wasn't one of ours, kept shooting at a group on the ground. Fast, lethal. Took out my squad and two others like we were nothing." She knelt then and drew a fair imitation of the one marker from the alien jet she remembered. The logo that, unknown to her, marked it as a Decepticon.
And then came the questions about what she assumed were some sort of tv shows. "I haven't. What does that have to do with anything?" The sting was out of her words, at least for now.
"It was chaos. That thing changed how it looked, went from a jet to something else. I don't know what it was, but it sure wasn't from here." She hesitated to verbally use the word 'alien'. That may make her sound crazy.
The avatar's sky blue eyes glanced up to look over the symbol Aurelie had drawn in the sand between them, narrowing once he knew what he was looking at. "Decepticon, as I thought..." The fact that this woman had already had a sort of introduction to Cybertronians was a welcome thought to Jetfire, but not so much the part that they had obviously been Decepticons. Just another detail he had to iron out himself, when the time came.
"I hope you don't hold it against me, but I'm not from here either; and that's not just a comment about my accent." Just as Jetfire alluded to his extraterrestrial origin, his physical body closed the remaining distance. The craft made a sharp turn just as it passed over head, reducing it's velocity significantly enough to bring it to a gently descending hover just behind the avatar. Jetfire pushed his aviators back up, no longer needing to divert his attention to control both the holomatter as well as his manual controls.
The jet itself was painted red white and blue, with a pair of Autobot insignias painted on both wings. Jetfire parked himself on the sandy ground below, his landing gear unfolding to allow a safe landing. Once the grandiose spectacle was complete, the avatar spoke up again, this time removing his aviators entirely, "Now, it's against my code of ethics to force my actions upon the will of another sentient being, but you will eventually die of thirst if I don't help you, which is what I came here to do; despite the gecko comment."
"Or, we can just wait here while I answer whatever questions you've got while one of us boils away in the sweltering sun. But I warn you, I've got air conditioning..."
Her brain stopped working. As soon as the jet came into view her mouth came open and her eyes popped open wide in her head. First off, the jet itself was a beautiful sight. Of course, she enjoyed anything with wings, but that was aside the point. The hell was this guy going on about. She was having a hard time keeping her thoughts straight, and her head hurt, and she was sure there was blood down her face from where she'd cracked her helmet before.
"Benefit of the doubt." And the beginning of a new adventure. She could feel it in her bones. "I'll have to get the black box from my bird, eventually." So that everything that had happened could be sorted. She wasn't sure if her comms had saved, but hopefully so. She had actually announced she was in trouble, she'd done everything by the book as much as she could while fighting for her life.
She stared at the sleek jet another minute or two and then sighed. Did that thing even have a co-pilot seat? It was hard to tell, and she had never seen the model before. Of course, that didn't mean anything. "Nice wings." She offered, circling the jet once and nodding. It had the same markers on it as his jacket. It had to mean something. "Sorry for the hostile reception. Heat and I do not mix well." And he was offering her air conditioning, provided he'd boost her up. No way in hell was she getting up there without one. It was too tall, and she couldn't even see any rungs along the side. Plus, he needed to pop the cockpit.
Jetfire led Aurelie over towards the craft's cockpit, which simply popped itself open as they approached. His holomatter avatar was solid after all, so he had no reservations about helping the woman up inside. "Thanks, made them myself," he replied, responding to the wing comment. He really had made them himself, though. No way was he flying around his whole life with a pair of cheap cold constructed wings.
"Maybe, but you have gotten yourself mixed up in something important. If I'm right, and you didn't hallucinate an entire combat scenario, you were fighting aliens with the power to shift between bipedal and vehicular forms." He was still leading up to the big reveal, in case Aurelie hadn't deduced it already. But to her credit, she was probably a bit out of wack from the crash. "You're technically talking to one now, actually."
Before his passenger had the chance to object or question it however, Jetfire interjected, "But, you'll be happy to know my faction is sponsored by the United States Government. We aren't keen on the conquest of Earth like the rest of them, even though your pilots have a knack for looking a gift-jet in the mouth."
She was listening, trying to make sense of this entire thing. "If I did then so did about two squadron's worth of fighter pilots." She had been listening. Aliens. He was talking aliens and all she could think about was the insanity of the battle and the strange markings on the jet that had brought them all down. Not that she hadn't done her best to pop a missile up his thrusters and watch the bastard burn, but still.
"There was so much chatter on the comms. We kept trying to pin him down, all the while hearing some Army man on the ground asking if any of us were in something that could make a short landing pick up. Evac something important. Of course in a jet like those there's no stopping mid-battle. I remember them calling for cover fire several times, but we were barely holding ourselves." Once she'd gotten inside she leaned back in the seat and took a deep breath, putting everything into order while she concentrated on what he was saying.
"Your faction? There's more than one?" And the crack at pilots went ignored. "And you're telling me that you're a bonified alien? Like from outer space?" Sci-fi movie on crack, was what it all sounded like. "And that thing was one of your kind, different faction, and it wanted to kill us?"
This was obviously a one-seater aircraft, meant only for Aurelie. As the cockpit lowered itself and locked into place once more, Jetfire's holomatter avatar vanished in a small burst of light. The jet's controls and instruments all lit up at once, indicating the Autobot now had undivided control over his flight mode. Coincidentally, the sound of a small fan starting up could be heard, along with the feeling of a small jet of cool air flushing into the cockpit.
Jetfire's voice piped up again, this time no longer coming from a hard light construct, this time coming directly from him. "Absolutely, though I'm sorry to say that I'm not a little green man from Mars; I am much cooler."
He slowly began to hover away from the ground, blowing sand and dust in all directions as he ascended. "I can't imagine why one of us, us being the operative word for the group that's keen on defending humans, would engage a flight of F-22's. Now I'm not the kind of person to judge a bot based on their looks, but if they were blasting 'weird markings' all over their frame and sporting a Decepticon logo, odds are they're a Decepticon. The bad ones."
She actually startled when his holoform disappeared. "That is really cool." And again when his voice came from the jet itself. "So wait...are you the jet?" She'd thought he was somehow controlling the jet, not that he actually was the freaking jet. She had to snort then started laughing at the whole matter. "Wow, talk about the most unique way to alien." She grinned like an idiot and didn't care. This certainly beat explaining to her commander what happened in the city.
As the cockpit lowered her first instinct was to check all the controls as though she was running her preflight checks. Not that she was in any control of this thing, but some habits were hard to break. "What's your top speed?"
And the jet was ascending, leaving the pilot searching for the straps to secure herself in the seat. Standard safety for a pilot. "Obviously you've got environmental controls and the cockpit is pressurized. "Whatever that thing was, he sure didn't want us interfering." She took a breath, trying to recall anything else from the frantic battle. "I want to say I could identify him if I saw him again, but I don't know. I'm going to guess that I'm lucky to be alive right now. These Decepticons don't sound like a nice bunch."
"I sure am this jet. Name's Jetfire, coincidentally," he answered. It had been quite a while since he'd taken an organic passenger, so a check to determine the status of his inertial dampeners, life support system and air conditioning was taken to avoid any in-flight complications. Once everything was in order, Jetfire took off. At least his passenger was talkative about her experience; reciting the quantum chromodynamic gauge invariant lagrangian equation was definitely fun, but ultimately a lonely means of passing the time in flight.
"Mach 8, in atmospheric conditions. And on a good day. I'm capable of going over Mach 25 in space, however." Though he was well aware of his top speed in vacuum, Jetfire had never really had a reason to reach it. He'd merely been Cybertron's Air Commander. Silverbolt had been Cybertron's Orbital Commander. There really weren't any good orbital engagements these days.
"They're not, but they weren't always that way; I used to be one, actually." Jetfire had taken notice of a few similarities between the human's story and his own, and wouldn't have even bothered to share his tale if he didn't feel she could empathize with it. "There used to be a city-state back on Cybertron, called Vos. Every Cybertronian who first opened their eyes in Vos was most definitely a flier, of one shape or another." Jetfire paused for five seconds, before continuing. "The Decepticons bombed it, to prevent us from giving the Autobots any semblance of air-power. I already had my misgivings about the movement at the time, but that's what solidified my choice to defect."
"There aren't many other Autobot fliers like me, as you can imagine."
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altria : please dont be dead?
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