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Aidan didn't hesitate. He swung open the driver's side door of the massive GMC TopKick pickup truck and leaped inside, the humming AllSpark clutched tightly in his hand. The interior was a strange fusion of human design and alien technology. As he gripped the steering wheel, his bio-suit sent out a wave of shimmering, blue micro-filaments that phased directly into the truck's console, interfacing with Ironhide's core systems.
"Give me primary control," Aidan commanded, his voice a calm counterpoint to the chaos raging outside. "I'll drive. You just need to assist with tactical data."
"Boy, are you questioning my driving skills?" Ironhide's rough, indignant voice boomed through the cabin's internal speakers. He was a veteran of the Cybertronian wars, a weapons specialist who had survived a thousand battles, and this tiny, arrogant organic was treating him like a common vehicle.
"I'm questioning your ability to process three-dimensional combat data while maneuvering a ground-based chassis through a hostile urban environment," Aidan retorted coolly. "Now, turn on your wide-spectrum radar and find me a route with minimal cross-traffic. Northwest direction." He slammed the gearshift. At the same time, his suit's own driving combat chip activated, flooding his mind with optimal vectors and trajectory calculations.
"In the northwest direction, there is a clear path for 1.2 kilometers," Ironhide grumbled, providing the data despite himself. "And behind you… Megatron is closing. Although I don't know who you are, human, I think your attitude should be better! Otherwise, I will teach you a lesson myself."
Aidan ignored the threat. He slammed the truck into reverse, cranked the steering wheel hard left, and stomped on the accelerator. With a deafening screech of burning rubber, the massive pickup performed a perfect J-turn, spinning 180 degrees to face away from the approaching Decepticon leader.
"Hey! Megatron is behind us! What are you doing?" Ironhide's panicked voice roared in the cabin.
"Don't hold me back!" Aidan yelled, his face a mask of pure concentration. He released the brakes, and with a guttural roar from its engine, the GMC truck shot forward like a black battering ram. The sensors of his compound eyes glowed red, expanding his detection range, predicting the attacks before they even happened.
Megatron, seeing the truck rushing toward him before its sharp turn, had thrown a massive punch, expecting to crush it.
"No! No! He's going to hit us!" Ironhide panicked.
Aidan's face was condensed in focus. At the last possible second, as Megatron's colossal fist descended, he slammed on the brakes and cranked the wheel again. The tires on the left side of the vehicle lifted directly off the ground. He released the brakes and stomped on the accelerator. The pickup evaded the punch with a beautiful, sideways drift, passing directly under Megatron's armpit.
"Wooo! By the AllSpark, that was incredible!" Ironhide's voice, now full of genuine, excited awe, cheered from within the truck's systems.
Aidan suddenly braked again, the truck fishtailing as a missile exploded on the asphalt right where they would have been. "Do you have a smoke screen?"
"No! I only have buckshot!"
"Useless," Aidan muttered. "Continue reporting the route. I'm leading them to the outskirts!" He made another abrupt turn, dodging a fresh volley of missiles from the sky.
"Turn right at the intersection 500 meters ahead! And watch out for the… oh, never mind the traffic lights," Ironhide reported, his own sensors now dedicated to helping his new pilot. "The Decepticons are all chasing us now!"
Two fighter jets, the unmistakable forms of Megatron and Starscream, now screamed through the concrete canyons above them, firing missiles in an attempt to block their path. The GMC pickup, its outer shell reinforced with a steel alloy containing radiant carbon fiber, absorbed the shrapnel from the near misses, its defenses holding strong. Aidan drove with a superhuman precision, using the jungle of skyscrapers as cover, easily anticipating and evading their attack runs. The US military had now scrambled its own jets, and soon, the skies above Los Angeles were a chaotic dogfight, intercepting Megatron and Starscream.
With the immediate aerial threat reduced, Aidan finally had a moment to breathe. "Hey, big truck, what's your name anyway?"
"My name is Ironhide, and you are truly amazing, boy! How about I become your guardian?" the Autobot said, his earlier indignation replaced by sheer excitement.
"No," Aidan pouted. "You'd better follow your own big brother, Optimus."
"You… you actually refused?" Ironhide said, his voice full of shock, like a rejected schoolgirl. "You'll regret this for the rest of your life, you know that!"
"I doubt it," Aidan retorted. "Besides, how could I let you be my guardian? You don't even have a proper laser guidance system. Your entire weapons package is archaic."
"Impossible! How could my body allow you humans to mess around with it?" Ironhide refused without thinking.
"Let me make some changes," Aidan said, his voice seductive with the promise of power. "And I promise, I can make you as strong as your leader, Optimus Prime."
Ironhide's internal processors went silent. Let a human inside my core programming? Unthinkable, he thought. But… to be stronger than Optimus… The temptation was immense.
Just as he was about to reply, a new voice cut through the comms. "Ironhide, where are you taking that human?" It was Optimus Prime, his Peterbilt heavy truck form blocking a missile from Starscream as he raced to catch up.
"It's not me driving, Prime, it's this kid!" Ironhide replied. "I don't know where he jumped out from, but his skills are… truly excellent. I like him very much."
"I'm heading to the northeast suburbs. Tyrell Hills," Aidan interjected, taking a sharp turn. "It's empty. A good location for a final battle."
"Hey! Can you hear me? I'm Sam! Who are you? Why did you take that thing?" Sam Witwicky's panicked voice now came over the comms, followed by a dozen other overlapping voices.
"Tiepi, quickly shut down your communication, it's so noisy!" Aidan said, his brow furrowed in annoyance.
"OK," Ironhide complied, and the chaotic chatter was replaced by a blessed silence.
They raced through several more streets, the sounds of the massive battle fading behind them, and finally arrived at Tyrell Hills. It was a wealthy suburb of sprawling mansions and immaculate green lawns. A beast-like, black pickup truck burst from a thicket of bushes, trampled over some decorative vegetation, and skidded to a halt on the vast, open expanse of a golf course.
Aidan opened the door and got out, holding the AllSpark. "So," he asked the air, as the truck beside him began to transform with a symphony of shifting plates and whirring gears. "Who do you think will get here first? Your leader, Optimus Prime, or the Decepticons?"
No one responded. Aidan turned in confusion. Ironhide had fully transformed and was now looking down at him with a puzzled expression.
"I told you to turn off the remote communication," Aidan said, slowly and deliberately pointing to his own ear. "I didn't tell you to turn off the internal system for receiving messages."
Seeing Aidan's actions, Ironhide suddenly realized his mistake. "Oh. Sorry. What did you say?"
But at that moment, the whump-whump-whump of helicopter propellers filled the air. "Okay," Aidan shrugged helplessly, looking up at the sky. "The answer has arrived." A squadron of military attack helicopters was descending upon them. It seemed the Decepticons had been intercepted by the Autobots.
The gunships landed in front of them, their propellers kicking up a storm of cut grass. But just as they touched down, the high-pitched scream of jet engines echoed from above. It was the Decepticons.