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ironhide

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This time last year Ironhide was storming into the Bar to demand that someone explain Christmas to him. He got his explanation from several sources. It didn't really make sense, but he tried to go along with it anyway. It's been a year. He's been trying to get caught up ever since. It hasn't helped.

On the other hand, the first soldier he demanded an explanation from prior to coming to Milliways has managed to fill him in on some concepts that he does grasp fairly well. True, they're not as important to Corporal Wasserman as Christmas is to most of the other humans at Autobase, but it's still a winter holiday that Ironhide can grasp better than the others. (Redemption religions and original sin aren't part of the Cybertronian culture he knows, but 'the oppressor is gone, we're still here, and our supplies held out when everyone thought they wouldn't'? That, he understands.) Combine this with the fact that ten thousand muffins arrived at Lissar's house earlier this week, and it's small wonder that Ironhide arrives from visiting Corporal Wasserman's family for the evening tonight.

He's in a good mood. Not that it's easy to tell with a face like his, but still.

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Woah.

MC's version of Japan doesn't have giant robots. Or robots that look like robots, and he hasn't even met Aigis yet.

"Hi."

The mech glances up from his table- he'd just ordered a beer, and the rats are heading off to get it- and considers the new human. "Evening," he says. "I don't think I know you, do I?"

"Not as far as I know." MC says politely, "But I was staring, so saying hi seemed to be the polite thing. I'm new."

New, teenage boy, and Japanese. This may qualify as the highlight of his life to date.

There's a grunt. "I'm called Ironhide," he says, a bit gruffly. "Welcome to Milliways. Been here long?"

"I'm MC." he offers with a tiny bow, "This is my second visit. I still haven't heard an explanation that makes sense."

'Hide dips his head in return. "What've they told you so far?" he says. "It takes a while to find something that sounds like someone's got a clue."

"There are three rules, what the three rules are. That it might be magic, or it might be technology. No idea why it'd pick me. So far I've seen a man on the ceiling with pointed ears, you, and a person who looks enough like me to be a twin as my collection of things out of the ordinary."

It's not that he isn't tots confused and unhappy about the situation. It's just that he's not a terribly emotive person and is dealing with it by being laid back.

Ironhide nods. "Far as I can tell, and as far as any of my people can tell, we're at the end of the Universe," he says. "The one where it gets destroyed, I mean. There's a bunch of wormholes through time and space that connect this place to all the places the patrons come from. They tend to open more or less at random."

"If it's random what would the odds be of managing to get here more than once?" MC is asking the air more than Ironhide - adding, "Math isn't my best subject, but they'd have to be huge." to the robot

"Pretty high. Seems like the portals open more easily after someone's already been here once. I haven't really analyzed it- that's not my field."

"That doesn't make sense." he frowns as he thinks about it, "Unless it's not really random but that begs the question of why me again. I'm not special."

"Don't know," says Ironhide. "Most of the Autobots on Earth right now come here, and it was an accident the first time for all of us. Nothin' special there, either."

"Autobot would be your - species? Please correct me if I get the terminology wrong." He doesn't ask for forgiveness, that would imply he did something to apologize for. Just correction so that he won't do it again.

"Nah, my species is Cybertronian. Autobot's a faction of my people. We're workers- it's short for 'autonomous robotic organism'."

"The species is Cybertronian, the faction is Autobot. Are there others who are not Autobots, then? Correct me if I am asking questions you would rather not answer."

The mech waves a hand vaguely. Normally he'd make a comment about 'lay off, you sound like an anthropologist', but he's trying to be less touchy for the holidays. (Eight days from now, all bets are off.) "There's Decepticons," he says. "The name didn't translate out of Cybertronian real well. They were in law enforcement and the defense forces. Only ever met one here, though, the rest of 'em don't come here for whatever reason."

MC bows again, "Thank you. This is all very new to me and I am trying to find out the ways to be safe here. Information is key."

"Fair," says Ironhide. "Where're you infrom, exactly?"

"Japan, December of 2008." MC responds promptly, "I'm a first-year student in high school."

Ironhide nods. "I'm living on Earth myself," he says, "same year, same time of year, but in California, in the United States. Haven't been to Japan yet."

"I do not think that we are from the same world." MC admits, "I've never heard of American citizens who are robots."

"We're good at hiding," says Ironhide dryly. "But we might not be from the same world anyway. Don't suppose you've ever heard of a place called Las Vegas?"

"I think so?" MC says after a moment, "I'm not very good at Geography for the world outside of Japan either." then he shrugs, "I'm not the best student."

"It doesn't matter. If there's a Las Vegas in your world, it's not the one I live in," says Ironhide. "We've got a city called Mission City on the same site that other worlds call Las Vegas, is why I asked."

"Huh. Does your world have a Gekkoukan?" If not he can start asking other people if theirs do. It'd be nice to have some kind of way of telling. "That seems very convenient."

The mech cocks his head to one side for a moment, optics dimming fractionally as he runs through the geographic information in his downloaded files. "Not that I know of," he says when he surfaces. "I don't have data on small towns, though. I'd have to connect to the networks at home to verify anything smaller than a city."

"If you would be willing to I would appreciate it." MC says with a small bow, "There isn't much I can give you in return."

"I'll check. I'm warning, you, though, the Internet and I don't get along real well. If there's anything I might find out about that name that's something people don't want anyone to know, it'd be just my luck to hit it first."

"In my world there was an explosion ten years ago at the high school." MC says with a shrug, "I don't remember much."

"Eh, that's minor," says Ironhide. "Shouldn't be a problem then."

(Thankfully, there is not a Gekkoukan in Ironhide's world. If there were, his search for it would turn up a completely unrelated porn studio under the same name operating in New York City that catered to people with medical equipment fetishes, and an extremely rare poisoning syndrome that results in swelling of the extremities and lips. Ironhide is not kidding when he says he has bad luck with these searches.)

"Thanks. I appreciate it. I, uh, guess you can leave word with the bar?" MC says, "If there's anything I can do for you in return please let me know."

"It holds onto notes and pops 'em up for the recipient when they place an order, so that shouldn't be a problem," says Ironhide. "No big deal."

"Alright." MC agrees, "I wish I could offer you interesting insights or something, but I'm about as normal as it gets."

"Might wind up talking to you about your country at some point in the future," says Ironhide. "My compatriot Bumblebee tells me Japan's a lot more robot-friendly than the States."

"I'd be happy to." MC says with a nod, "At least people of my demographic enjoy giant robots a lot."

"And me not even my real size," says Ironhide with a bit of a chuckle. "Good to know."

" - How big do you get?" MC asks slowly, "Twice this size?"

"More like twenty-five feet tall," says Ironhide. "And in alt mode I'm a full-sized American-made pickup truck."

Not strictly true, as the TopKick was designed for other purposes and the one Ironhide scanned retrofitted into a pickup, but Ironhide doesn't know that.

"Woah."

MC is imagining that with stars in his eyes, "That's amazing."

"Optimus is bigger," says Ironhide. "Not by much, in terms of mass, but he's a good ten feet taller than me at home. Only about seven feet tall here, though. You'll know him if you see him- he's mostly red and blue."

"I'll look!" MC agrees, "This is - I am trying to be polite, but meeting sentient robots is amazing."

"Takes a lot more than enthusiasm to offend me," says Ironhide. It's been said before: he's not a showoff, but he does like an appreciative audience now and again. "Or Optimus, or Bumblebee or Ratchet, for that matter. Slag, even Rad and Cheetor'd be okay with it, if they came in again."

MC bows again, "I'm very glad to hear that, but I think that I'll beg my leave of you before I do become annoying. I shall look for your friends, and you again, in the future."

"no problem," says Ironhide. "Good luck with the place."

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