Transmissions – Red Tale

Of all the Autobots living at the Ark, only Sunstreaker and Sideswipe refused to live in bare quarters. Shortly after awakening on Earth they each set about decorating their shared quarters in very different tastes. Sunstreaker managed to keep his side neat and simplified. Comprised of abstract art, his collection stood in stark contrast to Sideswipe's photos of humans, to which he kept adding to over time until the walls were a jumble of colors and images. Most prominent of all was a poster from a magazine Spike had given him, a curvy young female human (much too young for Sideswipe) lying suggestively on a red Lamborghini.

Sunstreaker had learned the basics of "suggestively" from Telatram one. It was suppose to only apply to humans, in fact as he understood it both the car and the female were suppose to appeal to the male humans like Spike, this then led to self-destructive behavior among human females which had not yet been corrected in their evolution. The relationships of males and females were a thousand times more difficult among organics. But this "suggestiveness" affected Sideswipe's programming. As much as Sunstreaker hated the poster in his room, it held "sacred" level for Sideswipe. There were some things you just didn't fuck with. Ever.

Out on patrol, a hundred miles away from the Ark, Sideswipe also contemplated his favorite poster, an image he'd committed to memory. He knew he should be fully focused on his duty, but the imaginary young woman beckoned to him. He'd never felt such pulses on his home planet, he and Sunstreaker were on the young end of their generation and endless war tended to put a crimp in normal maturity patterns. Despite being the exact same age and in the exact same endless war, Sunstreaker managed to hook up left and right, never resorting to daydreams about what he couldn't have.

Daydreams became reality in the form of a strange body careening from a mountain cliff and landing, after he transformed, into his arm. Larger than a human, her legs spilled over, but the rest of her settled in comfortably.

"Hi", he greeted, ever the friendly and social autobot, "You okay?"

She gulped, catching her breath with what sounded like human lungs. Two pink eyes, human shaped but with glass lenses, peered at him from under a shock of pink hair laced with metal beads. The pink touches complimented her brown skin and red clothing, both of which looked artificial but felt soft. Her weight matched that of an organism composed of water and bone, not the titanium armor of even the most delicate femme of his world.

"Yeah, I guess so. Thanks."

He set her down gently, she swayed a little on her feet, and silvery hands grasped his arm. Despite the tight grip, the skin yielded to his metal frame, these hands were organic.

Sideswipe studied her, trying to categorize her.

"What are you?" Sideswipe inquired, all the proper social customs tossed to the wind.

"Cyborg. Part human, part robot."

Sideswipe processed this for almost a minute. Human squishiness, yet mechanical enough to plug into. The rest of the world faded from his mind.

"And what might you be?" She asked, catching his stare.

"A Transformer. An Autobot, to be exact. From Cybertron."

"So…you're all mech, huh?" she commented, looking him over.

"M-my name's Sideswipe", he stammered, the oil in his cylinders heating up.

"T'Mary", she replied.

Reduced to the impulses of a thirteen year old human boy, he touched her hair. She gracefully turned the touch into a kiss, something new to Sideswipe as it wasn't a Transformer practice and he hadn't dared attempt it with a human.