TITLE: Convergence,
Crossover with Iron Man
SERIES: Imperfection Deviation
AUTHOR: Macx
RATING: PG-13
DISCLAIMER: None of the characters belong to me, sadly. They are owned by people with a lot more money :)
FEEDBACK: Loved
BETA: okami_myrrhibis, whose beta work is very much appreciated!



It wasn’t a common occurrence, but also not unheard of, and it had happened once or twice in the past, oh, twenty years, that Tony Stark, billionaire, engineering genius and CEO of Stark Industries, found himself with nothing to do.

Nothing at all.

At least until Jarvis was done calculating the latest settings to the Iron Man armor, and that could take a while. Even the prototype for the satellite long distance relay stations was at a point where it had to run through simulations on end, and until they were done, Tony couldn’t do anything there either.

So he had taken Rhodey up on his offer for a test sequence all of his own at Yuma Proving Ground. He wanted to run his armor against some heavy duty attack machinery, work on what the Extremis could do to confuse the enemy’s sensors, and generally have a good time.

Even Hot Rod hadn’t argued that it was stupid. That had been a first. The mech had been rather open to the idea of Tony getting pummeled into the ground.

::Sadistic spree?:: Stark had asked as they landed and Hot Rod had rolled out of the transporter.

::Sometimes it does you a world of good to get knocked down a bit:: had been the amused reply.

::Uh-huh.::



Tony checked the armor and had Jarvis give him full access to all functions, then launched himself into the air. Extremis was on full, scanning and preparing for what might come. He even logged into a satellite to get the bird’s eye view.

And then the games began.

Tony dodged missiles, diverted them with flares launched from the hip chambers, shot up into the air and let himself fall once again to fire up just above the ground. The smart missiles weren’t easily diverted and he had to use Extremis to blur himself into nothingness. He had perfected that with Hot Rod while training with his guardian. It wasn’t difficult with human-built machines, but with mechs it took all he had. He had to concentrate on that task alone, log off everything else, and confuse their various sensors.

Destroying three missiles coming for him, Tony grinned to himself – until he ran smack into something very big, very hard and rather unmovable.

Iron Man literally bounced off what had appeared like out of nowhere. Then again, he had ignored the armored patrol vehicle because it hadn’t come up as a danger on his scanners.
Now it was. Maybe not a danger, but it had literally come up!

The HUD lit up with data and Tony had to employ all his skill and maneuverability to not get caught by the twenty-four foot tall mechanoid that tried to bring him down. A four-fingered hand grabbed him and he blasted at the mechanoid’s face. He was released and rallied to focus Extremis on making him disappear for this alien life form, but he was too late, too slow, too human, and it got him a blast to the chest that hurled him across the desert.

All he could think of was ‘ouch’ and ‘this is going to leave bruises’ as he lay on the ground, dust settling over his armor. There was a pinging sound now and then as the hot metal cooled off and thankfully the HUD was still there.

“Jarvis?”

“Yes, sir?”

“Great. You’re still there.”

“Much to my chagrin, sir.”

“Hardy har-har.”

Tony felt the ground reverberate under the heavy steps of an approaching mech and he turned his head. All he could see were feet, a bit of ankle, and that was that. The color was desert sand.
Figures.

“You need to work on that,” a voice he had never heard remarked.

“My crash?” he quipped. “I’m a pro at that.”

“Coordinating your abilities to react faster when an unknown factor enters the game.”

Stark frowned and laboriously sat up. Oh yeah, bruises all over. Staggering to his feet he looked up. He had no idea who the guy was, just that he was as big as Ratchet, had red optics, and he looked amused. From the basic design he wasn’t built as a racer, like Hot Rod or Jazz, or even Barricade, who did the sleek deadly look well. This one was armored, but with harsher edges and the red optics did hint at his heritage.

“Like you?” he challenged.

“Like me. You didn’t see me as a danger and I had the advantage.”

“And you would be…?”

The massive mechanoid went down on one knee, leaning forward. There was a smile on his metal lips. “You can call me Scavenger.”

Tony stared. Thankfully his gape was hidden behind the helmet.

“You’re Cyberbuilder3?”

Scavenger nodded. “The very same.”

“Aren’t you and the other Constructicons on the Ark?”

“We were.” Scavenger got up.

“So you came back, thought of something fun to do and came up with ‘Shoot Down Iron Man?’.”

Scavenger chuckled. “Yes. It sounded like a plan.”

“Great first impression,” Tony growled.

Scavenger optics flashed with amusement. “In every way.”

“You never thought about dropping a mail and telling me to meet you here?”

“No.”

Stark rolled his eyes, which Scavenger couldn’t see, and muttered something uncomplimentary.

“I think we should go somewhere else for the explanations, Tony, don’t you think?”

Tony nodded, still stunned to finally see the mech he had been exchanging emails with for years. Someone he had believed to be some kind of genius engineer and hacker. Someone human.
Scavenger transformed and Iron Man climbed into the armored patrol vehicle. He wasn’t surprised that they were joined by two other military vehicles that apparently had no drivers.

“Your friends?”

“Yes, part of my team.”

“So this is the ‘Meet and Greet Tony Party?’.”

“According to Hook you aren’t that interesting – yet,” Scavenger replied, sounding amused. “Then again, Hook is hardly every interested in anything or anyone not associated with something he’s currently working on. Scrapper had a meeting with the Prime, so he was back here, too. The others are still on the Ark.”

As if that was their cue, the other two vehicles left the little convoy and drove off to wherever they were going. Tony watched the dust cloud, then his attention was back on Scavenger.

“And you came back to pound me into the ground?”

“You’re not that important, Tony.”

“Way to work on my self-confidence.”

Scavenger hummed. “I don’t think it needs extra work.”

“You’ve been talking to Hot Rod!” he accused.

“There is enough data on Anthony Edward Stark on your internet to get an idea on who you are. And we did exchange emails for a very long time,” Scavenger reminded him.

“Huh. Yeah.”

It was hard to wrap his mind around the fact that he had exchanged rather interesting and sometimes hot-headed arguments, emails and discussion with a mechanoid life form hiding on this planet, desperate, dying, barely able to scrape by day by day, and protecting his team because he was one of the only two strong enough to go for a longer time without recharge.

::You’re awfully quiet:: he sent toward the mech who was trailing them at a distance.

::Nothing to add:: Hot Rod replied.

::You knew he was here?::

::Yes::

::And you knew he was going to knock me down?::

It got him something like a shrug. He didn’t hear it, but Tony had had enough experience with Extremis-assisted communication to interpret certain sounds and warbles.

::Some guardian you are::

::It was your choice to train here. If you get shot down it’s also your bruises. Scavenger promised not to hurt you much::

::I feel so much better now, Roddy. Thank you:: he snarked.

::My pleasure:: came the laughed reply.

Sometimes he really, really hated mechs with humor. Especially sarcastic wannabe baby-sitters who pestered and nagged and were simply a pain in the ass.

But were also good friends, a part of his brain added.

Right now he ignored that part.

Scavenger drove into what looked like a giant cavern, which was actually the Constructicons’ home on Earth, simply called ‘Yuma’, and Tony was surprised to find a very sophisticated hangar-like reception room that branched off into different directions. The hangar wasn’t unlike the Nevada base’s topside structure.

“You guys don’t stay in Nevada?” he wanted to know.

“No. It’s inconvenient. Yuma has more room, we can test our projects, and the Ghost-3 can land here more easily.”

Unsnapping the helmet, Stark finally took it off, felt cool, dry air on his sweaty skin.

“Any of those projects related to our exchanges?” he asked slyly.

Scavenger chuckled. “I knew you’d ask. Come with me. I think there are some things that might interest you.”

And they did.

Immensely.

* * *

Scavenger was fascinated by the arc reactor. He had studied the Stark Industries version of a clean energy source and when he had read the files on Tony Stark, the ones the Autobots had in their computer, he had been even more fascinated by tiny-sized version of it in Stark’s chest. Scavenger didn’t know what interested him more: the arc reactor or Extremis. Both together had created something beyond human out of Tony Stark. Extremis had kept the arc reactor, hadn’t replaced it in his body, and while it irked the human, he had come to accept it.

Tony himself didn’t seem too thrilled to answer such private questions, despite the fact that the data was in the Autobots’ base. He slowly lost his reservations, but some part of himself he still protected. Scavenger knew more about humans and tact than Ratchet apparently did because he left it alone. This was their first meeting face to face and maybe future relations would reveal more, but for now he didn’t press on. He had read in Ratchet’s files how nasty things could get verbally when Stark was cornered. Extremis could take out a computer that was of hybrid origin and though there were none at Yuma, Scavenger didn’t want to risk glitches should Tony lash out in anger.

A first scan had revealed slight emissions that were comparable to a mech, but Tony wasn’t one, even if Iron Man did look it. He knew of the Allspark coding on the cocoon around Tony when he had nearly died from the injection and how his body had reformed itself inside the metal case.

Scavenger looked at the underarmor and hummed softly to himself at the signs of protoform design influence. He had watched as Stark’s skin turned a deep, polished black. Like metal. There were tiny reddish orange, crystal-like insertions visible in the forearms, torso and legs. They had been formed first and from them the blackness spread. The clothes had been absorbed, as if their material was needed to form Tony’s new outfit. Even his face was covered by the metal substance.

“Protoform skin,” the Constructicon commented.

Tony nodded. “Perfect replica, right down to the fluid/metal interface units. The Extremis and the P-Cells got together and this came out of it.”

“Could you absorb the armor into yourself as you do your clothes?”

“Never tried it, actually, but it crossed my mind.”

Scavenger tilted his head a little. “Protoform technology is the basis of all Cybertronian life. We weigh as much in protoform shape as we do with the armor, except when more armament is required. The protoform then uses material that is in our surroundings.”

“Like an upgrade.”

“Yes. For you the armor is the upgrade. Absorbing it would keep your weight the same as Iron Man’s.”

“Which is pretty heavy,” Tony conceded.

Scavenger smirked. “For a human.”

“I’ve been trying to expand on the subject of subspace pockets,” Tony told him, “but I keep running into dead ends. I know from files Ratchet forwarded to me that some of your scientists experimented with it a long time ago.”

“Yes. Subspace was abandoned due to the restrictions of matter that could be put there.”

“I’m small.”

Red optics flared a little. “Linking your brain up to subspace is dangerous, Tony. You need energy, a key code, and the concentration to access what you need in subspace to store and recall your armor.”

“Interested in a shared project?”

Another flare. Scavenger studied him for a moment, then nodded. “Forward your research to me. I’ll look over it.”

“Great. Now, about those defense satellite drones of yours…”

* * *

“Have fun?” Hot Rod asked, smiling, as Tony rejoined him outside Yuma after sun set.

“Still having it. Those guys are amazing engineers.”

“I’ve heard. The Constructicons were the architects of Cybertron’s Golden Age,” the mech replied. “They are impossible to beat when it comes to an engineering or building project. I know some Autobots really envied their skills. Grapple and Hoist were excessively talented, but they could never copy the Constructicons’ style and perfection.”

Tony stretched. “Yeah, I can see that,” he said quietly. “We got lucky in helping them, healing them as much as was possible.”

Hot Rod nodded.

“Scavenger said they aren’t who they were before, but if this is them handicapped, what were they before the Modulator?” Awe swung in Stark’s voice. “I can grasp a lot of your technology since I have Extremis, but Scavenger’s mind is impossible to understand. He showed me some of Hook’s designs and they are pure genius.”

Hot Rod chuckled. “They gained another fan, I see.”

“You got that right.”

The silver mech sat down beside his human charge. “Any plans to go up to the Ark?” he asked casually.

Dark eyes narrowed. “Why?”

“Just asking. I can almost feel your want.”

“That sounds dirty, Roddy.”

Blue optics flashed with silent laughter. “Only to your gutter mind, Tony. I just want to know ahead so I can make a quick retreat when Pepper finds out.”

“Coward,” Tony teased.

“You wouldn’t tell her, just call Pepper from the Ark and let her know,” was the retort.

“True. But no, not yet. I want to be there when the defense satellites are implemented, but that’s not yet ready. Scavenger asked for new configurations. Won’t be done for another month.”

But then he would accompany the Ghost-3 and see how Stark Industries satellites interfaced with Cybertronian technology. The Ark’s transformation into a battle station/defense satellite was entering the final stages and if the drones worked, they could be used as remote alerts. Ironhide had come up with a security net that required dozens of the little drones to spread throughout the solar system and maybe even beyond. Some of them were currently being tested, orbiting around Mars to look for any traces of Decepticon presence from over a decade ago.

Both mech and human sat together in amiable silence. Part of Tony was working, thanks to Extremis, relaying mails, accessing data files, keeping an eye on the different projects of Stark Industries, even holding a brief phone conversation with Keller. It was second nature to him now and while both Ratchet and Dr. Keyron had repeatedly asked him to submit to a new scan, Tony had declined.

He knew what the results would be.

Jarvis had scanned him and the scans had been disturbing enough. His brain had completely rewired itself with the nanotubes. Half machine, half human, able to do what Cybertronians did all the time – multi-task on a whole new level.

Part of Tony was scared; part was fascinated. The fascination was still stronger, but the fear lurked around the corner. He had already been told that he was ageless thanks to the virus. Now he was also beyond human.

He unconsciously touched the arc reactor, rubbing over it. It was hidden under layers of clothing.

::….::

It was a wordless touch, almost like someone squeezing his shoulder, and he looked up into the blue optics in a mostly shadowed face.

He didn’t say anything, simply nodded, then pulled his jacket closed.

“Let’s go,” he broke the silence after another minute.

Hot Rod transformed and opened a door. He let Tony drive, didn’t complain about spinning tires, taking corners too tightly, and the speed vastly exceeding legal limits. Tony simply drove, felt the powerful engine’s reverberations, listened to the growl of barely restrained horsepower, and finally floored the pedal completely.

Hot Rod just took the care of not colliding with anything and whiting out speed cameras.



Tony finally braked hard, the Audi sliding sideways and coming to an abrupt stop. Dust settled only slowly and he peeled his fingers off the black steering wheel. Leaning back in his seat, he hissed a curse.

“Always. Again and again! I got my brain rewired, my body remodeled, and I still can’t get rid of this… garbage in my head!”

Silence. Hot Rod wasn’t commenting.

Tony stared at the world outside the windscreen, wondering why his mind sometimes took the dive into fear and depression over what he had become. He had upgraded, he was stronger, faster, healthier… and he would live a long, long time. Not alone. Never alone. There were people around him who had just the same life expectancy. He would see things others could only dream about and he was working toward this goal.

“Idiot,” he grumbled.

Weak, human idiot.

Stark finally started the engine again and headed back onto official roads, driving within the speed limit, letting his mind wander around his projects once more. Safe ground. Fertile ground.

He had a job to do, a role to play, and he had a future to shape.

* * *

Tony sat in the workshop, looking at the design graphics for the drones. He finally switched them off, tired of watching the repeated tests. Jarvis had orders to record everything and create an error list. He turned to his latest pet project and studied the simulated subspace pocket. Scavenger had written a program that incorporated different variables that could be changed, like the size of the pocket, the matter one tried to store there, as well as access points.

Tony had added a program that allowed him to use a human being as the key holder, then given the human model the nanotube virus, the Extremis. He had replicated himself as a 3-D model and was running probabilities.

So far the results had been far from promising, though there was a sliver of hope the idea could work. Maybe it needed human thinking to make something this old work for real.

Tony leaned back, let the program run through several trials.

If subspace worked it meant a whole new realm of possibilities. He wasn’t just using the human-Extremis version, he had also added the mechanoid key holder to it. Apparently Cybertronians withstood the backlash of subspace folding back around the pocket a lot better than the human body. Still, the technology had never had its break-through.

Like the space bridge.

Another interesting concept. Especially when applied small scale: a mech able to teleport. It was the technology of the Ancients, the first Cybertronians to see the light, so to speak. They had apparently been able to do a lot more than their descendents. A lot had been lost. Later attempts at duplication had ended in catastrophic malfunctions, to and including death.

One step at a time, though.

Tony reached for his beer and emptied the bottle. The most important project on his list was the Ark, as well as the satellite drones.

“You have received mail, sir,” Jarvis interrupted his thoughts. “Private address.”

Tony smiled as he called up the sender. His smile widened into a grin as he saw what Scavenger had attached: his revamped plans for the deep space probes – mangled by Hook, riddled with comments.

“I like those guys,” he commented.

“Apparently,” was Jarvis’ wry reply.

“Copy the attachment, work it into a 3-D model, then give me a holler.”

“Very well, sir.”

Tony leaned back and watched it happen, smiling more and more. Yeah, they were geniuses, but even geniuses weren’t always right.

He was already looking forward to the arguments.