#tracksraoul

The sight is pushed to the back of his mind as Raoul dives for cover behind some large chunks of metallic rubble, heart racing a mile a minute as he holds his blade tight. Maybe the sniper was aiming for the alien, maybe they were gunning for him next, all that mattered was surviving long enough to make it home....whenever or wherever that was. For a few minutes it was silent, but just when the pilot started to move, he could hear a few sets of...mechas approaching? Daring a peek above the rubble, Raoul's eyes widened at the grouping of five mechas heading his way, a grin crossing his face as he scrambled his mecha up and onto his feet, sheathing his sword when the group stilled at his movement.

"Holy shit, I thought I was the only one here!" Raoul laughs as he fully steps into view, though the noise peters out when he takes in their...really weird appearances. "Whoa, you guys look sick as hell!"

The electronic noise that greets his ears when the tallest mecha opens its mouth makes Raoul cover his ears with a yelp, the noise making his entire skeleton vibrate as his mind screamed danger danger danger. He steps back when another mecha (which at this point he severely doubted they were) moved forward with its hands raised, its expression unfazed when Raoul jumped up, clinging to the side of the building beside him to create a little bit of distance.

"I don't know what you are, but stay back!"

Yea, definitely not any mecha he was ever familiar with.

The mecha that had stepped forward tilted its head for a moment, clearly looking at his chassis as opposed to the visored helm he had, which it shouldn't be as it opened its mouth.

Did it know?

"'M sorry for mah friend there." It...did not make the noise from before, Raoul remaining in place as a...what the hell, a Southern sounding voice escaped the red mecha. "Forgot you human's don't understand us."

"....the hell?" (Oh my god first contact with another alien species and that's what I go with???) "You, why do you sound like you come from the South? Better question, how the hell you know English??"

"Was taught by a friend, he comes from Earth too. Wanna come on down an' talk? We've got about five klicks before we've got ta evac, an' I promise I'll explain everythin' if you come with us."

"You can get me back?" Despite still not understand who these new aliens were, Raoul figured it wouldn't be all bad to trust the aliens that knew freaking English, hopping down and landing with a quiet thud.

"Sorta, but this is enemy territory, so no dice here." The other mechas that had been with the red one were quickly hurrying past Raoul with various alien guns raised, clearly wary. "Let's go."

"Alright man, I'm followin' you guys."

---

Raoul had been on a spaceship.

A spaceship.

A

Fuckin'

S p a c e s h i p

If it wasn't for the fact he was stranded on an alien planet who knows how far from Earth, Raoul probably would have gone full nerd mode for at least an hour. As it stood, he just followed the red mecha named Ironhide (which is so cool??? Holy shit??) as they land inside a full on city packed with more mechas than he'd ever seen in his entire life, glowing eyes honing in on him when he exits the spaceship. It wasn't hard to see why, even though he was smaller than most mecha back home, he was a good head or two above most of these non-mecha aliens.

"Another one?" A white and red mecha had been talking to someone when they arrived, the insignia on his shoulders registering to the human as some sort of medical marking when it (He? She? Oh god this was going to get confusing soon) hurries over to one of the injured mechas that he'd traveled with.

"To be fair, this one was kidnapped too." Ironhide rolled his eyes, clapping a hand on Raoul's shoulder. "Or, tackled I guess."

"I'd say it counts as kidnappin' man." Raoul wants to facepalm when everyone stares at him, settling for grimacing as he watches Ironhide let out some sort of electronic laugh. "I don't normally get blindsided by three putos gilipollas."

"Don't know what that means, but you humans are pretty resilient when it comes ta fightin' Quintessons, gotta give you that."

"Fighting what?" Raoul is led off the landing pad and down among the passing mechas, glad no one could see his face as the stares never seemed to end. "What's a Quintesauce?"

"Quintesson, an' it's the guys trying to take over yer planet."

"Oh..." Quintesson, the name felt wrong in his mouth as he travels through a massive military base, so distracted by the sights he doesn't see the mecha he runs into, jumping back at the offended spine rattling noise that escaped the other. "Shit!"

"Sorry fella, I forgot to send word ahead." Ironhide steadied Raoul with a shake of his head, the other alien looking lost as he motioned to Raoul. "Got us another human, this one can't seem to stand our native tongue."

"How unfortunate." The new mecha scoffed after a moment, arms crossing over its (rather shiny) chest. "Perhaps it should watch where it's going then, hm?"

"Excuse me for bein' distracted by a whole new planet, don't need to be a dick about it." Raoul challenged once he could move again, eyeing the red-faced mecha.

"I do not know what a "dick" is, but I can tell when someone is being offensive." The shorter huffed, two wings (jet wings? What??) twitching as they give the humans frame a once-over with a sneer. "Why is your frame a clash of so many designs? It is displeasing to the optics."

"It's called art, shame you can't pull your head out of your ass to see it."

"Art is meant to be beautiful and inspiring, that seems better suited to blinding the enemy."

"Just makes it even more functional then, blinding them with human creativity before I kill them."

"That is not what-"

"Femmes femmes you're both pretty, can we pack it up?" Both Raoul and the other turned to look at Ironhide, who looked both amused and annoyed. "C'mon human, I'd like ta get off-duty eventually, you two can go bother each other some other time."

"After you, big guy." Raoul shrugged, giving the stunned bot a two-finger salute as he hurries after Ironhide.

Neither mech nor human think to ask about each other's name until they're both far from sight.

Ironhide leads Raoul to some sort of command center, the various mechas inside turning and reacting in surprise at the sight of Raoul, save for the only true mecha in the room.

"Oh my god...SOMEONE FROM EARTH?!" The black and white mecha vaulted across the massive holographic table between them before anyone else could react, practically vibrating in place as he grabbed Raoul's shoulders. "You have no idea how happy I am to see someone from terra firma right now."

"I can guess." Raoul chuckled, looking the taller mecha over. "You're the guy who went missing in orbit, right? Jazz?"

"That I am, name's Jazz, and let me assure ya you're among good mechs, er, people." Jazz let go to motion to the curious group behind him, clearly at ease. "Got a name?"

"Raoul, it's nice to meet you man." Raoul gave a small wave, not sure what else to really say. "Where are we? One minute I'm fighting outside of Detroit, the next I'm...well, wherever here is."

"Cybertron, our home planet." The only mech (mech? He'd need to ask what they were called, mecha was not right) that had some height on both him and Jazz stepped forward, his deep voice washing off some lingering anxiety from his earlier battle the New Yorker hadn't even noticed. "I welcome you Raoul, and I apologize for your...unexpected trip from your home planet."

"Not your guys' fault, just a hazard of the job...apparently?" Raoul shrugged, looking around the room. "What happens now, Mr...?"

"My name is Optimus Prime. As for what happens next, I'd like Ratchet to look over your frame for any potential damage before I have Jazz give you a tour. Do you require any rest or food?"

"I probably have a few hours in me before the adrenaline crash hits, I'll survive."

"Very well."

---

Raoul crashed a few hours after his arrival, in fact falling asleep in his piloting chair while Ratchet ran more than a few tests. The medic shook his helm in amusement when he noticed before rapping on the plating above where Raoul should be located, stepping back when his mecha jerked up, ready to fight if needed.

"No sleeping in my medbay unless you're injured." Despite the lack of a face plate, Ratchet could see the confusion turn to understanding once Raoul was up and on his feet through his body language. "I also went ahead and dialed down your audial sensitivity, don't want your processor melting out of your audials."

"Oh...is there a way I can reset it, if I need it?" Raoul raised a hand to touch the side of his mecha, not really feeling anything out of place, but the lack of spin-rattling ambient noise was a relief.

"Of course, I introduced some programming to allow you full control, should be in your processor under audial control. Now out, Jazz should be waiting for you." The medic made a shooing motion toward the doors.

"Right on, Doc." Raoul made a two-fingered salute before hurrying out, having annoyed his own medics enough to want to avoid doing the same to a guy fifty times his height. Jazz was indeed waiting outside, chatting up a mecha (no, Cybertronian) in the strange language he'd heard before, something he was going to have questions about later as he made his way over.

"You survived the ol' Hatchet, congrats!" Jazz straightened as the other studied Raoul with an intense expression, the pilot not hearing his fellow human as he studied the expressive face in pure curiosity. He had no idea metal could be so expressive, and it's not until a hand waves in front of his face that Raoul forgets he isn't alone, glad no one could see his embarrassment. "Earth to Raoul."

"Oh, shit, sorry, what were you saying?"

"I know Prowler is pretty, but he's spoken for." Jazz chuckled, putting himself between the alien and Raoul while slinging an arm around the shorter mecha's shoulders. "C'mon, I've got show and tell duty, and this place is pretty big. Prowler, catch ya later?"

"It is still Prowl, but of course." The alien (bot? mech? Mech is easy enough) raised an eyebrow, the doors (??) on his back giving a small flick when Jazz tilted his head slightly. "Try not to take our new arrival anywhere..."fun"."

"Aw, but those are the best places!" Jazz whined as Prowl shook his head, moving past the two to continue down the hall. "Yer no fun!"

"Goodbye Jazz." The bot waved a hand as he continued walking, the pilot chuckling as Raoul watched in quiet amusement.

"Sooooo....how does the sex work?"

"Oh no, you don't get that until we're drinking the last of my whiskey."

"Well, good thing I happen to always have a store of tequila in my mecha, then."

"Raoul, my man, we are goin' to get along great!"

Four hours and a tour of the biggest military base Raoul had ever seen in his life later, found Jazz and the New Yorker halfway to drunkenness. They had set up in some sort of rec room/cafeteria (Raoul still wasn't sure, but he'd learn), and Raoul watched with how...at ease Jazz was disengaging from his mecha in a less than secure setting. He hadn't personally known Jazz before his disappearance over two years prior, but the man didn't look too different from the remembrance posters Raoul had seen around, save for longer hair and some nasty scarring along his side when he pulled down his outer flight suit to cool off. Jazz was just fascinated with Raoul's mecha suit, what started out as a plain blue flight suit now covered in patches and custom leatherwork fans had sent in through his career, even his helmet painted to the last inch.

"Man, I am so jealous, you look so cool." Jazz sighed, grabbing Raoul's helmet to examine while the other grabbed the mentioned alcohol from his mecha. "How come you got to personalize?"

"I punched a general when he started bitching about my first set of graffiti, said if I was bein' sent out to die, might as well go out in style y'know? The mayor of New York even wrote in about it, and I guess PR loved it or somethin', 'cause no one bothered me about it again after that." Raoul fishes out the first bottle he can grab, waving it in the air in victory as he carefully steps back onto his mecha's arm. "I get kids to help me change it up after every battle, keeps it fresh and excitin'."

"And here I got yelled at for adding literal black and white coloring, that is incredibly lame." The smell of tequila nearly made Jazz's mouth water, the two taking a seat as the bottle began to be shared back and forth. "Please tell me you've got a decent food synthesizer, I don't think I can last much longer on my basic diet."

"I got one of the newer ones recently, I've had a lot of downtime in stealth mode." Raoul shrugged, letting Jazz have the majority of the drink. "The Quinetseans started gettin' decent at ambushing smaller towns with some stealth bullshit, so we got better at finding them first."

"Quintessons, and damn, that sucks." Jazz frowned, head spinning as he took another swig. "I miss Earth, you have no idea how happy I am to see another human being."

"I can only imagine, we all thought you were dead." Raoul shook his head with a low whistle. "Seems like you've been with a good group, though, and Prowl? How did you manage that?"

"A whole lotta patience." Jazz hummed, sipping the tequila once more as he lay on his side, grinning at his new friend. "To be honest, I fell for him before I even knew these guys weren't mecha, so it didn't really change any of those feelin's much."

"Good for you, take every day you can, y'know? Not like we have many of those."

"How's the turnover rate?"

"Worse, we're losin' 'em faster than we can keep replacements. Part of that is because there's a haunted mecha, but that's a whole story."

"Tell it, now. Mecha ghosts are a thing???" Jazz's eyes widened as Raoul launched into a tale of a (suspected) pilot turning spirit haunting his mecha, and how some random medic or something had been the only one to survive so far. For some reason, Jazz finds that little fact hilarious, and the two are in hysterics before long, their laughter garnering the attention of off-duty bots who entered to get energon. One of them was the bot Raoul had accidentally run into earlier, eyeing the two giggling humans as he grabbed his ration before grabbing a table, leaning over to the bot closest to him.

"Blaster, who is the new human?" The communications specialist shot him a weird look at how softly Tracks spoke, but he had seen more bizarre things over the years.

"Raoul Ortiz, Jazz scanned his mecha files, or whatever the humans do for that sort of thing, and sent me what he found. He is a pilot as well, and is classified as something called a calvary scout, has been for just shy of seven jours." Blaster scanned the data pad he fished from his subspace with a shrug, looking up at the other mech. "Seems nice enough, haven't seen Jazz smile so much."

"I suppose that's not too surprising, he's not seen a human in a long time." Tracks watched Jazz sit up, pointing at something that made Raoul howl with laughter, falling back onto the tabletop with a face plate that was taking on a red hue as he grinned.

"Want a human of your own too?"

"No!" Blaster gives him an amused look, but says nothing else as he's drawn into another conversation, leaving Tracks alone to watch Jazz and the new human (Raoul, what an odd designation) get overcharged with their single bottle until Prowl finally swooped in and carefully tugged the small high grade (no, alcohol?) bottle from Jazz's hands. He didn't realize the room had mostly emptied until the superior officer looked right at him, doorwings twitching in exasperation as he motioned to the unfamiliar frame.

"I require your assistance in helping Raoul to his quarters, he and Jazz have become quite overcharged." Tracks fought back the urge to cycle his optics as he stood, setting his empty ration cube to be cleaned before sauntering over, observing the new human start the climb to his cockpit from the table.

"Does it need anything?"

"Time, and a steady arm." Prowl flicked over the location of Raoul's newly assigned quarters before returning his attention to Jazz, who had gotten back in control of his frame to drape it across the Praxian with a coo.

"Aw I love ya Prowler, even if ya stop my fun." Tracks couldn't help the vent that escaped him as Prowl shook his helm in exasperation, guiding his wayward partner across the room as Tracks waited for Raoul to do...whatever it was they needed to do in the frame. He'd never seen Jazz entering his mecha, eyeing the small piloting chair within what would be their spark chamber light up when Raoul sat down, the human tugging down a thick cable and plugging it into the back of his helm covering, his frame's arms and legs twitching as organic and machine became one.

"Like what ya see?" Raoul was not as overcharged to the extent Jazz was, but clearly had had a sip or two himself, standing with a stretch and low hum as his chassis covering slipped closed.

"I was merely curious." Tracks began to head toward the location Prowl had given him, the human following without a word.

"You can ask questions, I don't really care about answerin' them, I'm gonna have a bunch myself after I hit the sack."

"What does hitting something have to do with questions?" Tracks asked, the human laughing when they turned down a corridor. "What?"

"I'm not actually hitting anything, it's just an expression, just means me goin' to sleep." Raoul paused when he caught sight of a training room, his faceless helm moving as he took in the sight. "Whoa, this is so cool."

"Why?" Tracks paused as he watched the other. "Do you not have training rooms?"

"Not really, well, not mecha sized anyways. Lot of our trainin' is done in training pods that simulate the field, I only get to properly mess around when I'm in the field." The human entered the room, poking at some sort of training dummy with a finger. "So yea, this is cool to see training gear this size."

"That is...strange, but when you are all so small, I suppose having the space is not a luxury you can afford."

"Nope! When we get back though, I should show you the place a few of us pilots like to sneak off to, we throw parts of mountains at each other and it's so fun." Raoul laughed, stumbling slightly as he left the room with a shake of his helm. "Man...that's even if we get back."

"I am sure Wheeljack and the others will find a way, I know they have been for Jazz for some time." Tracks led Raoul down another corridor; the lighting dimmed down this one due to it being personal quarters. "It is not so bad, however, he's found good company."

"Like you?" Raoul glanced over, noting how the other bot tensed in a way that was far too familiar.

"No, I have only dealt with him in passing."

"Uh huh..." They finally came to a stop outside of a door, Tracks pressing a panel on the right side to open the door, revealing a room that held a bed, desk with a chair, a lamp and some floating crystals on one wall unit. A small bed that was his actual size had been placed on the desk beside what looked like a water cooler and some alien fruits in a small bowl, and Raoul sent out a silent thanks to whoever did that. "This is a pretty nice place."

"If you need anything, Prowl informed me that your mecha's internal comm system has been linked into our own, and that Jazz's line has been made your primary." Tracks watched Raoul sit his mecha down, the frame powering down as he unhooked himself (still weird to watch if he was honest) after opening his chassis, grinning up at Tracks before using an arm he positioned as a bridge.

"You've been a lot of help, thanks!" The human waved up at him, and Tracks gave a short bow, turning to leave. "Before you go, can I get yer name?"

"I am known as Tracks." The human looked to the side as he mouthed his designation, and his spark fluttered when a smile was sent his way.

"Nice ta meet ya Tracks, I think I'm just gonna have to make myself some good company for ya." The mech looked taken aback by the declaration, his eyes blinking(????) before a small smile crossed his face, glowing eyes focusing on Raoul as his engine rumbled quietly.