Chapter 3: Upgrade & Battle(rewritten)
Amidst hushed conspiracies among the men, it wasn't long before everyone in the house found themselves in the tight grip of cuffs, escorted away in sleek black cars. The drama elevated as a black truck with a rather ominous trailer rolled onto the scene, encircling me with a crew armed to the teeth. Unperturbed, I maintained my composure.
Approaching me, one of them dared to test my doors, and with an air of generosity, I allowed them to creak open. They delved into my boot and hood, scrutinizing every nook and cranny. Once satisfied, they meticulously aligned the truck with me, attaching a winch from the trailer to my front.
As I was unceremoniously pulled inside, the trailer slammed shut behind me. Then, with an unsettling 'foosh,' the atmosphere transformed into a deep freeze. A bone-chilling cold gripped every part of me, and let me tell you, it hurt like a rusted-out wrench to the bolts. After an excruciating 30 seconds, I gracefully succumbed to unconsciousness. Because really, who needs the hassle of dealing with hypothermia sassily?
Reviving in the dazzling lab, Bumblebee welcomed me with a chirpy ::HELLO~FRIEND::. I transformed and glanced up at him. "Where's the welcoming committee?"
He gestured with a wave, playing tour guide down the hallway alongside the humans. Following the convoy, I couldn't help but sassily comment, "Impressive digs. Does Optimus have his own suite?"
Arriving at the behemoth Cube, I raised an optic ridge. "Oh, it's big. Like, 'did we really need something this extra' big."
I turned to Bee with an expectant look. "So, shrink it down to pocket size or something."
Bee's response was a headshake. ::"NAH FOOL~ YOU CAN TAKE IT"::
Unsure whether Bee was trolling or serious, I tapped the Cube, hoping for a magical resize. Turns out, it wasn't touchscreen-friendly, and I got firsthand experience in high-voltage aerobatics. Electrifying.
Emerging unscathed from the electrifying display, I shot Bumblebee a sceptical glance. "Electroshock therapy wasn't on my list of self-improvement activities, Bee. Are you experimenting on me?"
Bee, the master of non-verbal communication, just shrugged. Apparently, my electric experience was as perplexing to him as it was to me. But before I could demand an explanation, a spontaneous impulse led me to scan one of the helicopters in the lab. In an instant, I grasped its essence and felt a surge of knowledge.
Now donning the form of an I-B668 helicopter, perfectly proportioned to my size, I couldn't help but revel in the novelty. Returning to my humanoid form, I found myself equipped with two rotor blades on my back. Treating one like a sword, I couldn't resist a quip. "Well, well, seems I've levelled up to the sharp and pointy edition."
Curiously, the smaller back rotors remained elusive, resisting my attempts at discovery. With a theatrical flourish, I motioned for Bee to take charge of the mysterious Cube, only to be met with a sigh-inducing reduction in its size. Bee is always the buzzkill at the party.
As the humans yammered on about their grand plans. I transformed with Bee, Sam and Michaela taking their usual positions. Just when we were gearing up for action, the Decepticons decided to throw a tantrum, messing with generators and dimming the lights. Like a cosmic-sized mood killer.
Joining forces with the Autobots and some military contraptions, I figured it was high time to show off my impressive helicopter skills. Transforming smoothly, I took flight, the wind in my...rotor blades? It wasn't as complicated as I thought – score one for Rusty.
In the midst of my aerial acrobatics, Optimus pinged me through the com link. -:"Rusty, Do you read me?":- Snarky as ever, I shot back, -:"Loud and clear, Optimus. Why? Need advice on your next heroic speech?":-
As the convoy rumbled down the road, I tested my blaster, thinking, "Well, at least I can contribute more than witty comebacks." Noticing two Decepticons trailing us, I couldn't resist a sassy warning to Optimus. -:"Optimus, you have two Decepticons on your tail, I'm opening fire now.":- My shots aimed at the ominous police cruiser, while Optimus did his best WWE impression with the other Decepticon.
Bingo! My well-aimed shot sent the cruiser spiralling off the highway, hitting an oil tanker and causing a dazzling fireworks display. Cue the mic drop – or in my case, rotor drop. With any luck, that Decepticon headache was cured, at least temporarily.
I hustled to catch up with the Autobot crew, leaving Optimus to reflect on his dramatic highway stunt. As we rolled into the city, the atmosphere shifted - cue the ominous flyby of none other than Starscream.
Using my excellent detective skills, I broadcasted a helpful PSA through the com link. -:"Ironhide, Starscream is here. Be sure to take cover!":- It's a friendly reminder to avoid unnecessary dents and scratches, especially for our beloved Bee.
In the chaos that ensued, I manoeuvred closer to the ground. No need for Starscream to notice an unconventional aircraft in the mix. But wait, there's more drama! A tank, probably late for its appointment with an action movie, rumbled down the street.
Ever the vigilant informant, I warned the Autobots. -:"Watch out, Decepticon coming from the west just down the street":- Ratchet confirmed receipt of my pearls of wisdom with a crisp -:"Copy that!":- The Autobots, like a team of metallic avengers, descended upon the tank, administering a firm robotic whoopin'.
Just when it seemed like the Decepticon would become scrap metal, the Megatron show began, prompting our heroes to make a tactical retreat. It's a Decepticon party, and everyone's invited to dodge and duck.
In the chaotic city mess, Megatron went full-blown director, snatching Jazz and dragging him to the rooftop. Oh, hell no. I zoomed after them at breakneck speed, transforming and whipping out one of my trusty swords and giving Megatron a dose of pointy reality right in his damn side. Perfectly timed, just as he was ready to dissect Jazz up there like a morbid science project.
Down we plummeted, a spectacular freefall into the street below. With a smooth move, I retracted my sword mid-fall, making sure our crash landing had a certain flair. Jazz and I transformed into our flashy vehicles, hitting the road with Megatron nursing his wounded pride.
As Megatron geared up for revenge, aiming to ruin my getaway, Starscream showed up fashionably late, serving as a damn fine distraction.
-:"Thanks for the assist, mate. Thought I was going to die there.":- Jazz gave props for the lifesaving theatrics.
-:"No problem. We got lucky as fuck there.":- I played it off, but stabbing Megatron? That's not your everyday achievement. I might need a frickin' vacation after this.
In the airborne chaos, I spotted Sam clutching the cube, and the Autobots diving into the skirmish. I figured I'd join the party, adding a sprinkle of firepower without wreaking too much havoc.
Optimus and Megatron swooped in, starting their duel, but my view got obstructed as they barrelled through a building.
I was gearing up to face Blackout when Starscream barrelled into me mid-air. Street meet Rusty.
Dodging his flail, I pulled off a nimble roll, only for him to slam me into a building. Recovering, I unleashed my arm blades, landing a somewhat satisfying slash. He retaliated with a missile, not hitting me but sending me sprawling forward.
As I stumbled, Starscream unleashed a kick, introducing me to the cold street. I recovered, arm blades out for round two. A missile whizzed by, just missing me but still knocking me to the ground. Bee and Jazz crashed the party, forcing Starscream to bug out.
Jazz offered a hand, a silent acknowledgement – "We're even now."
In the aftermath, as Bee and Jazz darted back into the fray, I took a moment to gather myself, contemplating how I narrowly escaped an untimely end. A reminder that luck had graced me once but might not be as kind next time.
Witnessing the distant explosions of helicopters, I zipped towards the cube's location. Just in time, I swooped down to catch Sam, plummeting past Optimus as Megatron slammed into him, sending them both careening off the building.
Transforming midair, I slowed our descent and set Sam down, witnessing the relentless struggle between Optimus and Megatron. Stabbing Megatron with a sword earlier hadn't slowed him down much, apparently.
Soon, Blackout landed, aiming to surprise Optimus. Urgently, I directed Sam to place the cube in either Megatron's or Optimus's chest. Transforming, I raced towards Blackout, sword in hand, and swung down, nearly severing his leg.
As Blackout stumbled, I ducked his wild saw attacks and coordinated with human gunfire. A swift swing, and his leg fell away, leaving him flailing. Transforming my hands into blasters, I unloaded a barrage into his face until he ceased to move.
Glancing up, I witnessed Megatron succumbing to an air strike, Sam embedding the cube in his chest. Optimus, looking down in remorse, retrieved a shard and acknowledged Sam's role, proclaiming the Autobots indebted to him.
In the aftermath of the colossal clash, Optimus Prime, in his grandiose fashion, extended gratitude, commended bravery, and offered a seat at the Autobot table. Bumblebee, the eloquent speaker through radio waves, chose to stick around with Sam, and they got the green light for their bromance.
Then there was me – Rusty. As Optimus beckoned me into the Autobot fold, I responded with a smirk, shaking my head like a cybernetic rebel. "Honor and bravery are my middle names, but someone's gotta keep an eye on the older Witwickys. Can't have Decepticons RSVPing for a revenge party."
Optimus, the wise leader with a nod that could probably put any human politician to shame, acknowledged my decision. "Your choice is honorable. You'll always be welcome with the Autobots."
And thus, the grand finale unfolded. The government, in its wisdom, did its thing – covering up the cosmic spectacle, gifting the Autobots a base, and dialling my number for a brief chat. My stance? Clear as day – guardian of the Witwickys, no more, no less.
As I roll towards my meet-and-greet with Sam's folks, Here's to keeping Decepticons on their toes and Witwickys out of their crosshairs!
As we pulled up to the rendezvous, Bee and I transformed, ready for the big Witwicky family introduction. Judy, hanging onto Ron's arm, was quick to notice the discrepancy in height. "That one is shorter than the other," she whispered, not knowing that my ears were top-notch.
In the grand moment of presentation, Sam proudly announced, "Mom, Dad, meet Rusty and Bee."
Bee's wave seemed almost as awkward as a giant robot could muster, and a nod followed.
"Nice to meet you properly." I greeted the Witwickys.
Ron, ever the pragmatic voice, quipped, "Yeah, er, you too. Would have been nice to know I was driving an alien."
In my typical style, I scratched my metallic head and replied, "Sorry about that. Didn't want you to freak out. Now, I'm here to stick around, protect you, and chauffeur you about."
Ron, being Ron, had reservations. With a stern expression, he declared, "Sorry, pal. We've already agreed on one alien. We can't take another."
I nodded, grasping his point. But, then came the twist. "I'm also a helicopter."
Judy's eyes sparkled with excitement. "I've always wanted to own a helicopter."
Ron sighed, giving me a stern look. "Fine. But no mess, and don't cause trouble."
With a hint of a grin, I assured them, "I'll be the most well-behaved guardian helicopter you've ever had," and with that, I embraced my new role – the not-so-troublesome helicopter chauffeur for the Witwickys.
Weekly Power Status
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