[FICTION] Short Range Interactions Type C

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Summerhayes
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[FICTION] Short Range Interactions Type C

Post by Summerhayes »

Hi guys, anyone remember me? I doubt it. Anyway, I've written a dumb story about why Cosmos turns into a flying saucer. Hopefully, I'll be on here a little more when The Last Knight is out and I'm free from spoiler avoidance.

Short Range Interactions Type C


Cosmos watched Rung play with one of his model ships. It was sharp, and slick, and aerodynamic, and cool. Cosmos thought that was pretty dumb, seeing as there is no atmosphere in space. Having a big engine at the back of a wedge just meant a terrible turning circle. Cosmos was a flying saucer, with his flight technology in the centre, and knew a thing or two about manoeuvrability.

Rung put his toy on his lap and looked at Cosmos with an impressive look of concern, facilitated by his excellent eyebrows. “Tell me the last thing you remember, when you were still a rocket.”

Cosmos sighed. “I’ve told you a thousand times! I was cruising through space. There was a bright light. And that’s all I remember.”

Rung smiled. “Actually, that’s the first time you’ve mentioned a bright light.”

“So it is.” Cosmos muttered, sheepishly. “I’d forgotten all about it.”

“That’s the whole point. Little by little, we’re uncovering more of the story. It’s much safer this way than trying hypnotism or anything more invasive.”

“But it’s taking so long!” Cosmos moaned.

“Let’s shelve it for now.” Said Rung, figuratively, while also quite literally shelving the model he’d been playing with. “And talk about your memories after you woke up as a flying saucer.”


Officer Orion Pax was manning the desk at the Rodion police station. His wheels turned and his fingers tapped the table. He wasn’t cut out for office work. He itched for the streets, a natural response for someone who is literally a truck.

The communicator on his desk rang and he grabbed it excitedly. “Orion Pax, Rodion police station. How may I serve and protect?”

“I’m calling in regards to a missing person case.”

“Who’s missing?”

“Me.”

Orion paused dramatically, hoping he wouldn’t have to ask the obvious question. Luckily, the caller expanded on their statement.

“Well, obviously I’m not missing any more. But I think I was. I’ve just returned to Cybertron, my name is Cosmos of Arken.”

Pax typed the name into the database with powerful, heroic fingers. Tap, tap, tap, his index fingers thundered into the keys like the beating of war drums. Sure enough, the name Cosmos of Arken did relate to a missing bot report – one a millennium old. Cosmos had flown into space one day and never returned.

Soon, Orion was on four wheels and thundering towards the spaceport. He barrelled to a sliding stop, his tires throwing up thick clouds of black smoke, at a red light. He revved his engine, with power and control, then at the green light tore away at precisely the speed limit.

On arrival, he began the transformation. His grilles split apart, his doors swinging into arms and his wheels becoming legs with a thunderous clang of metal. He leapt, somersaulted, and landed with a crash on the pedestrian walkway.

His optics swept the atrium. It wasn’t hard to identify the lost bot- he was huge, green and had the weirdest, smoothest kibble. Prime strolled purposefully toward him and tapped him on the shoulder with the gentle concern of a hero.

“Cosmos?”

“Are you Orion?”

“I am. How are you feeling?”

“Fat.” Cosmos sighed, while Orion was thankful he had a faceplate. “Do you know what my alt mode used to be?”


Orion nodded. “A rocket. I read your report.”

Cosmos rose to his feet, as tall as he was round. “Look at me now! I turn into Metroplex’s nipple!”

“Nipple?”

“They’re thing’s some of the organics have.”

“Does Metroplex have them?”

“No, but we’re obliged to mention titans at least once per story.” Cosmos explained.

“Titans™.” Orion corrected. “Capital T, registered trademark.”

Cosmos nodded his understanding, and Orion returned to the topic at hand.

“Why don’t you tell me what happened?”

“Because I don’t know!”

“So, tell me what you do know.”

Cosmos sighed, slumped back to the floor. “I was a rocketship. Then, one day, I wasn’t. I woke up on a planet, surrounded by tall, dry organic plant life. I was disoriented, low on fuel. All I could do was scratch an SOS in Cybertronian before I passed out. Luckily, a passing ark picked me up. They gave me a refuelling, but when they told me the date I passed out again.”

They returned to the station. Orion was continuing to ask Cosmos questions, to which he had no answers, while one of his colleagues performed some scans.

“I can’t make heads or tails of this alt mode. Maybe if I could take him apart and put him back together again . . .”

“No, Prowl.” Orion pinched the bridge of his nose. “Just admit you’ve got no idea who built him.”

“I’ve got some ideas. They were organics. There are signs of multiple species being aboard – one as a crew, others held captive.”

“Signs?”

“Foodstuffs, water, faecal matter . . .”

Cosmos interjected. “I do know what poop is! That’s disgusting.”


Rung was stood at the window, watching the stars glide past the Lost Light. Cosmos was reaching the end of the story he’d told a dozen times before. Leaving the police station, working as a freighter.

“Do you remember when you joined the Autobots?” Rung asked.

“Of course I do!”

“Why don’t you tell me about it?” Rung sat back in his chair and steepled his fingers. Cosmos lied back on the sofa and switched off his optics, letting the memories wash over him.

“It was in the early days, before the war was much of a war. Optimus came to me himself and asked if I’d like to join him.”

“And what did you say?”

“No thanks.”

There was a long pause. Rather suddenly, Cosmos realised that probably wasn’t a good place to end a story. Rung, in fairness, waited patiently.

“He told me about the horrible things Megatron was saying, about conquering the galaxy and killing organics and everything, and asked if I agreed with it all. I said of course I don’t but if we turned to violence we’d be as bad as the Decepticons.”

Rung nodded sagely. “What did Optimus say to that?”

“He said, no it wouldn’t. And I thought, yeah, you’re right.”

“So you joined him?”

“Obviously.” Cosmos sat up. “This is getting us nowhere, Rung.”

“We’re making small steps, Cosmos.”

“I don’t want to make small steps. I want to know why I turn into an areola!”

Rung looked down. “It will be stressful.”

“I understand.”

“Make yourself comfortable. I’ll go and find Whirl.”

Cosmos would have collapsed if he wasn’t already supine. “Why him?”


The watch swung back and forth, a smooth and pendulous motion. Cosmos tracked it automatically, letting his body relax.

It wasn’t really a watch. Whirl hadn’t been able to work the parts properly. It was just a metal disk that made a ticking noise, but it worked perfectly for Rung’s purposes.

“Space.” Rung whispered. “Endless, black space. You’re rocketing through it. Suddenly, you see a bright light.”

“Yes.”

“What happens next?”

“I’m paralysed. I can’t move.”

“It’s okay. You’re safe now. What happens next?”

“I feel myself falling. Suddenly, I’m planetside. I’m on a dirt track. I’m surrounded by small people.”

“Picture them. What do you see?”

“Nipples.”

“They’re organics?”

“Yes. Skinny ones, with large heads and round eyes. They’re pulling me apart. Their ship has crashed, they’re using the salvageable parts to turn me into a ship. I’m mode locked!”

“How do you feel?”

“Violated. Scared. Bored, mostly. It takes ages with their little fleshy digits.”

“What happens, when you’re built?”

“It’s a blur. I’m flying from planet to planet, they’re capturing other species, experimenting on them.”

“You were conscious for this?”

“I mostly just napped. Helped them steer a little when they messed it up.”

“What planet did they live on?”

“They didn’t! Their planet was gone. They travelled from world to world, looking for another species they could procreate with, to save their dying race.”

“They couldn’t find one?”

“They found one, after many generations. They were almost extinct. They attacked the cities, tried to subjugate them.”

“They failed?”

“The aliens were able to hack my systems, vent the air from my hull.”

“That sounds unlikely.”

“Of course it was unlikely! But I emailed them instructions on how to do it and one of their scientists took all the credit.”

“And then they were able to defeat you?”

“They couldn’t defeat me. But they set me free, and I landed in one of their fields. When the mode lock was deactivated, I awoke with no memory of any of it.”

Rung returned the watch to his backpack. Cosmos sat up, shook his head wearily. “How do you feel?” Rung asked.

“A little grossed out.”

“But better for knowing?”

Cosmos nodded.

“Are there any more questions you want answered?”

“Yeah. Do Optimus’ windows count as nipples?”

By Luke Summerhayes
I like bears.
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Warcry
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Joined: Fri Aug 23, 2002 4:10 am
Location: Winnipeg, Manitoba, Canada

Post by Warcry »

Funny stuff!

Hopefully Cosmos figured out how to get all the poop out. Magnus probably knows how to sanitize one's insides.
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