Phoenix here: This is the second story I hinted at. I got the idea after reading Defiant Nefelibata's Sparkbeats. Freakin loved that story. Dude if you ever read this, You're an awesome writer! That's also where I got the idea of a fledgling from. I hope y'all will enjoy this crackshow I have begun. Feel free to review anytime...although I'd advise you to not get your pitchforks yet, this IS just the prologue after all.

One last thing, I claim ownership over just the character's I have created, nothing else.


Name: Marcus "Rads" Pakowski

Age: 19

Position: United States Marine Corps Radioman (MOS: 0621)

Callsign: Warlock Actual

Appearence: Caucasian, standing at around 5'7. Black hair skirting the line of what's allowed for regulation. Blue eyes. Minus the eyes and hair, his face looks like Pac's from BF4. His voice is also that of Pac's.

He wears standard issue Desert MARPAT BDU's with black combat boots under his sand stone plate carrier, and wears tan and black combat gloves with fingerless cutout's for his index, middle, and thumb on both hands. His plate carrier when viewed from the front has six mag-pouches in the center near his waist, two magpouches for his M9 sidearm are to the right at his 2 o clock, and two pouches for M67 frag grenades are left of center at his 10 o clock. His flak patch is centered on his chest with pouches holding two pens and one notepad to either side. Between his flak patch, and his magpouches, he has a pouch for his primary gridmap. He has an IFAK at the 7 o clock position of his belt-line, and 2 more frags at his belt-line's 3 o clock. He has a water canteen on the 5 o clock of his belt, and a He wears a pack containing the AN/ PRC-150 radio, it's accommodating gear, and some basic necessities like rations, cleaning tools, and maps. The microphone for the radio is secured to the packs left strap, and is level with the top of his plate carrier.

He has his M9 sidearm strapped into a holster on his right thigh with two mounted magpouches for the handgun.

Weaponry: M4A1 Carbine with a picatinny-mounted vertical foregrip, top picatinny-mounted combination laser/flashlight module, and an ACOG scope. M9 sidearm with no attachments. 4 M67 Fragmentation grenades strapped to his plate carrier and belt. 1 M9 Bayonet strapped to his right leg in an ankle holster.

Personality: Basically a big kid. Always laid back, always ready to pound someone on Halo, and most definitely NOT READY for children. He's got a little bit of arrogance problem due to his status as a "Devil Dog", however most of the time he won't do something stupid. He's like your cool big brother who just so happens to be a radioman in the Marine Corps.


Name: Barricade

Age: Unknown (Appears to be a fledgling)

Position: Unknown

Appearance: Think a femme version of the newest design, however she retains the Saleen S281 police interceptor alternate form, and it's color scheme and decals. She has a holo-form, however it is just a miniature version of her true form.


Prologue

Everything was perfect. The room was quiet, I wasn't dirty, I had new clothes, and my BDU's would probably be dry by mid-afternoon. The cocoon of blankets I found myself in was very warm, and this bed was VERY comfortable. To be honest, I had forgotten I was stuck in a post-warzone, blown-the-hell-up city...and then reality came crashing through. Literally.

The door to my humble abode was slammed open.

"WAKE UP!"

I groaned, but refused to open my eyes. "Just give me like...ten more minutes..." I sighed, still half-asleep.

I heard metallic stomping traverse the carpeted floor from the general direction of the door to right beside my bed.

"WAKE! UP! FLESHBAG!" the youthful voice to the right of me demanded with accompanying stomps. "NOW!" she added with a growl. Except it wasn't exactly a grow, it sounded more like an angry rev of a small engine.

'Christ, something's got the kid riled up this morning...'

I groaned with a stretch and forced my eyes to open a smidge. My eyes were first greeted by the white roof of the hotel room I had..."gained access to". I looked to my right after rubbing the sleep out of my eyes and found the little alien kid's metallic face scrunched up in a snarl. Her four little red "eyes" were boring into my conscious with glares that could cut straight through the frontal turret armor of one of our Abrams MBT's. "Alright..." I sighed, "I'm up. What's the problem kid?"

She crossed her arms the way kid's would normally do when they were pissed off. There was another angry rev as she continued her tirade "You PROMISED me we'd go for a drive this MORNING!"

"Huh, I did...?" I questioned honestly. Really, I didn't recall saying that...

"YES!" the kid screamed in my face while throwing her hands back and rearing her head towards me. "When did I say that?" I asked. "Last! Night!" she snarled. The adult side of me wanted to knock the kid down a few pegs for having such a tantrum, however the adult side of me was in the minority. "Alright, lemme get cleaned up real fast. What time is it?" She jabbed her left index finger/ talon thing at the clock on the nightstand besides me "Eleven-Thirty!" she growled, "And you said that morning ends when the clock hits TWELVE!"

I sighed, deciding I'd let her attitude slide this time. "Watch out kid, I need to get up. Go watch TV or something, I won't take too long." She ripped the sheets off of me with a huff and turned right to head over to the TV mounted on a cabinet in the middle of the room, grumbling something under her breath about what she would do if I didn't hurry up. "You'd better chill out kid. I'm easy-going, but if you keep pushing it I'm not going to be so nice." I warned as I got out of bed in my white T-shirt and black basket ball shorts "pajamas".

"I'm Barricade, not kid!" she huffed as she slammed through channels in search of something interesting.

"Yeah, well around here, people your age are called kids. So if I'm "Fleshbag", you're "Kid." I countered. The little alien across the room dropped down into the chair near the TV with an angry huff. It looked like Ed, Edd, and Eddy would be this morning's entertainment. She didn't see it, but I gave a satisfied nod in regards to her choice. That show was my favorite cartoon, the kid had good taste...although she probably got it from me.


It's funny, a few days ago I was just a simple radioman in the USMC. Then everything went to crap once I was rushed here with my unit of mechanized infantry after things got hot in the City. Five days ago I found myself waking up in some abandoned warehouse I got thrown through one of the windows of, I guess something shot me off of the street and knocked me out as I careened through the window.

I began wandering around in hopes of finding survivors, hopefully from my unit...that didn't happen.

On the second day I found myself aimlessly wondering through another abandoned warehouse. I cleared the place without much care and moved on. Little did I know, I had picked up a tail. It took me a good while to realize something was following me, and what tipped me off was the sudden crunch of gravel behind me in an alley.

I spun around with my rifle at the ready only to find nothing. I pressed towards the direction of the noise and came around a corner that led to another abandoned warehouse. The place was dark, dark enough that I couldn't see much of anything with the trusty Mk. 1 Eyeball.

I switched my flashlight on and begun sweeping the cavernous space. At first there was nothing there...then my light hit something shiny.

I moved towards the unknown shine and eventually discovered an abandoned Saleen S281 police interceptor sitting in the far corner of the room. It was on odd find...I mean, as far as I knew, nobody used those for law enforcement. Heck, nobody used standard Mustang's for law enforcement. I brushed it aside though, this WAS Mission City after all. It wouldn't surprise me if the local police department acquired something as "exotic" as an S281 and modified it for police work. This place was always vying for attention since it was near the big cities like L.A and San Fran.

I moved on unfazed. Blindly believing that it was probably just a stray dog or something that made the noise. It couldn't have been the Saleen that made that noise, no way. The thing was abandoned, and last I checked, cars didn't drive themselves...oh how wrong I would be.

That Saleen did make the noise, and it WAS following me. I figured that out when a thunderstorm came rolling in later on. I was walking through the streets when a bolt of lightning struck pretty close to my location. I jumped a little out of shock, however my attention was immediately grabbed when I heard a very child-like squeal from behind me. I swung around just in time to catch a blur of black shoot behind a corner to my right and into what looked like a parking garage.

I advanced on the garage and thoroughly swept my surroundings upon entering. I called out a few times, but I got nothing. I kept going and found the very same police interceptor parked in a far corner. "No fucking way.." I told myself. I pressed forwards towards the car on the other side of the room. Someone was screwing with me, and they were about to catch a face-full of rifle barrel.

Just then another bolt of lightning struck, this time right across the street on the roof of an office building. The Saleen literally jumped forwards with a rev and spastic flash of it's lights.

I. Fucking. Split.

I sprinted out of the room and backed into a corner with the barrel of my M4 squarely aimed at the room I shot out of at mach speed. Eventually I mustered the courage to go back in there with that thing and figure out what the actual hell I just saw. With a white-knuckled grip I shot into the room and took aim, causing the Saleen to shoot backwards and smack into the wall behind it. The thing was literally shaking.

That's how I met the kid. She was something called a "Cybertronian", her name was "Barricade", and that was all she knew. At first I wanted nothing to do with the kid, however after a...certain event..I took her under my wing. Now she's my daughter...? Sister..? Hell if I know, but that doesn't matter. I'm the first human in history to adopt an alien child...an alien child that's and alien robot that turns into a police car...did I mention she has a temper...like when she's not being adorable...ah whatever.

I'm here, I'm stuck with her, and that's fine with me. Having company in an abandoned city works wonders...even if they're a little...metallic.