Two weeks had now passed since Jazz's ceremony. Beneath the warm summer sun, Sam sat beneath a tree lazily to surf the internet on an old laptop Rachet put together for him. Beside him Bumblebee, in his robot form, leaned back against the tree and made sounds that sounded suspiciously like snoring. On a whim Sam went to his forgotten EBay items. His grandfather's old glasses, among other things, were no longer available for auction, so he decided to finally remove them.
He wasn't surprised when he found there were still no bids, and he moused over to delete them...and paused. There was a PM for him about the glasses, sent a bit over 2 weeks earlier.
Curious, he opened the message. Outwardly, it was addressed to LadiesMan217, but in the body of the letter it addressed him by name. Now, his interest piqued, he read on. Sam Witwicky. It read. Remove the glasses. They want the cube. They will come after you. They will hurt you.
Sam made a startled sound and Bumblebee sat upright beside him, instantly alert. "What...what is it Sam?" Despite the weeks since, Bumblebee's voice still had a slight scratchy quality to it and he looked around sharply for a threat.
"Look at this!" Sam said, showing the computer to the yellow Autobot. "I didn't read this before. Someone else knew about the AllSpark." Bumblebee peered at the tiny screen as Sam continued excitedly. "Bee...this was sent before I had met you..." Sam retracted. "Well, I mean before I knew you were an Autobot...you know...uh...when I thought you were just a car..." he glanced up as Bumblebee gave him a look, and continued quickly, "Yeah, like just a normal car. You know...not my all time best friend and the coolest guy I've ever known... ever!" He added with a wide grin, pouring it on.
Bumblebee chuckled, and reflected a bit on how much Sam had changed him as well, but then turned his attention back to the screen. He wondered aloud "Zoe7?" then watched as Sam Googled the name. When it came up empty, he tried a few more internet tricks. Finally, as Sam ran out of avenues to pursue this Zoe7, Bumblebee shrugged, his own internal internet searching, albeit infinitely more advanced and faster than Sam's human methods, had come up empty as well. "Sam, maybe Ratchet can trace it backwards to the source."
It was a good idea so Sam nodded and began to gather his mess. Beside him, Bumblebee stood up and transformed back into his alternate form.
Bumblebee was a limited edition Camaro, a concept car for all intents and purposes. He had rescanned it on a whim after Mikaela had scoffed at his previous form. At the time it had made sense. He had been the first Autobot on Earth, and as the scout he was, he had needed cover to do his job. The Decepticons were already on Earth at this point already and, like them, he chose an alternate form that would be both practical and useful. The battered old Camaro he had been had served its purpose in hiding him from the Decepticons and from the locals who seemed to be able track his alien signature.
At the time, he had not been aware of Sector 7, only that the rusty, beat up car-form he had chosen was all that he had needed, or wanted. It was that very form that allowed him to find Sam Witwicky, their biggest and best lead to the AllSpark and it was his job to protect him from the Decepticons who were after the very same. Sam's father had paid 4,000 dollars for the beat up faded Bumblebee then, and now, on just that same whim, that 4000 had turned into a 40,000 dollar ride. It was a skin that Bumblebee wore with no small amount of pride.
"Good idea." Sam agreed and in moments they were headed back towards an abandoned warehouse the Autobots called home. Home for now anyway. Spartan came to mind when Sam looked around the place. He supposed robots didn't need much in the way of amenities, but they still had basic needs. It was also perpetually too hot in here, but Autobots didn't seem to mind, or notice, the heat the way Sam did. They had hollowed out a pit and waterproofed it with plastic liners to use as an oil bath. Each of them had a small area roped off as their 'personal space' that contained a recharging platform and a few alien trinkets that Sam could only surmise were relics from planets across their known galaxy.
Rachet had set up a medical lab and engineering station for himself. The medic had begun the arduous process of stocking items and rebuilding the technology they would need in the future.
Ironhide's section seemed more suited to the grumpy warrior as well where he worked on his cannons and other weapons. Of all the personal quarters, Ironhide had the largest section as his recharging platform was the biggest. It was Spartan among Spartan. There was very little decorating, that had nothing to do with his cannons, the space he semi-shared with Optimus.
It was Ironhide's job, as the weapons specialist and thus tactician, to monitor for enemy activity. Not all the Decepticons had been destroyed. Barricade was still functional, and Frenzy, though he'd beheaded himself, had survived being beheaded before from Michaela, so it was entirely possible he was still alive as well. There was Scorponok who had disappeared in the desert somewhere after attacking Captain Lennox's team. Finally, there was the most dangerous threat of all. Starscream. Who had escaped the final battle with little more than scratches. It was entirely possible they could regroup and cause problems.
This being the case, the Autobot leader had set himself up a wall sized monitor to watch and record Earth's news broadcasts, CNN and All My Children. The news was watched to maintain a vigil for Decepticon activity, and he claimed to watch the soap in order to learn more about humanity. Sam wondered about that but didn't call him on that. At 32 feet tall, Optimus could be quite an imposing figure. He seemed grim at times and standoffish, but the weight of leadership of an entire race would weigh heavily upon anyone.
Finally even Bumblebee had a small area, dedicated mostly to 80's rock music and lots of colored lights, but he mostly lived in Sam's garage, and that was also where his recharging platform was. It was a place he could also unwind while he simultaneously protected, by virtue of proxy, the important humans in Sam's life. The Witwicky's eventually accepted the robot, though it took quite a bit of convincing. Convincing that took the form of Bumblebee taking his robot form in front of his quite naïve parents. They took it better then Sam would have expected. But he had expected them to run around screaming. While that didn't happen exactly, his mom did manage to break her best bat against Bumblebee's knee. It had also taken several words from Captain Lennox, in uniform, together with Sam, explaining exactly what Sam and the Autobots had done for the Earth. After extensive 'negotiations' Sam's father had finally agreed to let Sam and Bumblebee remodel the garage specifically for the Autobot. After all, Mr. Witwhicky had reasoned, Sam owed Bumblebee for saving his life, and thus he owed Bumblebee for saving his son.
Besides, it looked good to have such a fine car sitting in the driveway at times.
The warehouse was only a temporary location. The American government, while aware of the Autobot's alien natures, was willing to allow them unimpeded freedom out of gratitude. But that autonomy didn't protect them from John Q. Public, and regardless of what the Autobots had done for the world, humanity as a whole still bore quite a bit of trepidation for the giant robots. Located where they were, in the city, it was only a matter of time before they were noticed, and inevitably hounded, by the humans. For all their good intentions, Prime decided, humans were, overall, too curious for their own good. There were plans in the works to find a more permanent home but healing, both physical and spiritual came first. The Autobots had not only lost the cube in the war with the Decepticons, they had lost the ability to return life to their home world, and most importantly, they had lost a friend.
Ratchet and Ironhide listened as Sam told Optimus Prime about the strange message. Rachet had chuckled when he began to look up the name, thinking it would be an easy search. He was wrong. It took him quite a bit of time and hacking to eventually trace the message back to the source IP address. It was a small town 120 miles to the north of Tranquility called Boulder. The senders name was indeed Zoe, and Rachet held her address up triumphantly.
Ironhide thumped him on the back. "Good job, brainiac." he said huskily.
Ratchet scoffed at Ironhide's backhanded compliment. "You doubted?" He pushed back at Ironhide lightheartedly.
Optimus thought it over carefully before responding. He knew Sector 7 was supposedly disbanded, and he knew, thanks to CNN, that much of the world realized that at least SOME of the giant alien robots were not here to invade the Earth, but caution was still warranted. This Earth was still inherently dangerous to them, and many things, despite Sam's and Bumblebee's shared knowledge, were still unknowns to them all. "You should go check it out," said Optimus finally, to Sam and Bumblebee. "But," he added, "Take Ironhide with you." He cut off Bumblebee's protests with a wave of his hand. "We still don't know this world very well, even you Bumblebee. It is wiser to travel in pairs. And," he added ominously, "judging from the extent Zoe7 went to avoid detection, it is clear this person does not want to be found easily." Optimus didn't voice his concern that the fact that this Zoe had a '7' in their name, and that was ominously similar to Sector 7, the only group that knew extensively about the Cybertronians.
Bumblebee groaned while Ironhide drove his fist into his palm with a dull boom. "Good." He said with a wide, nearly feral, grin, "Maybe I'll get to shoot something."
Optimus sighed audibly. "Just make sure it's a Decepticon...this time."
Ironhide waved his concern away a bit sheepishly, "Feh... I did that demolition crew a favor." Ironhide took his alternate form and revved his engine strongly. The burly warrior was his oldest friend, and an Elder among the Cybertronians. He was stoic and set in his ways and did not often voice his thoughts, unless he felt they were warranted. It was just too often lately he would rather speak with his cannons, then his brain. The Autobot leader supposed it was due to the fact that Ironhide, and indeed them all, had been forced to become soldiers, to fight, kill, and to leave their homes, now forever. It could change even the most hardened soul. Though, thought Prime with a chuckle, his weapons officer liked to show his weapons prowess off as much as Jazz had liked to showboat.
It was much later that same day when the Sam and his Autobot friends pulled into the sleepy town of Boulder. As they drove down the main street, Sam found himself gazing out of the window idly. He had given up any pretense of driving, though Bumblebee was considerate enough to let him steer at times. Sam couldn't help but wonder what kind of feeling that was for the Autobot to let someone else control his body. He imagined it was the same as letting another human control your body while your brain remained cognizant. "Wow," Sam remarked. "This is definitely a one-horse town."
"I do not see it." Bumblebee replied seriously, scanning around. "Perhaps it is sleeping."
Ironhide snorted. "In this environment, horses would not be practical. Hmmph. No...Wait...I see horses. At your 2 o'clock, about 4 miles away. A field."
"Ah," Bumblebee acknowledged sending his sensors in that direction. "Definitely more than one horse though."
Sam groaned. He knew he had to watch his idle metaphors and idiomatic phrases, but had forgotten. At their serious comments to his casual chatter he reminded himself again he'd have to either further educate them on Earthly expression. The Autobots, after all, learned their language from the internet. They had done a remarkably good job of filtering out slang and swear words, though Sam wondered how many languages they'd actually assimilated during their stay here. He figured he should be glad they had filtered out actually saying 'LOL' or 'IDK' in normal verbal speech and they didn't talk like commercials, though Bumblebee did occasionally let his radio do the talking for him. Old habits, perhaps. "Let's see..." Sam interrupted, changing the subject. "This address...hmm...Bee, stop."
Obediently, the Autobot came to a stop and Sam rolled down the window to flag down a passerby and get directions. Moments later they were headed out of town towards what the local referred to as a bone yard.
"What is this 'bone yard'?" Ironhide asked over their internal communicators as they drove down the dusty road. "Is it a human graveyard?"
Sam thought about it carefully for a moment. He still sometimes had to watch what he said as he worried about offending his alien friends at times. "It's a place where we put old vehicles, cars, planes, or boats when they break down past, you know, the practicality of fixing them." He thought about it for a moment and suddenly felt a bit bad. "Um, does that sort of thing bother you? I mean...well, does it seem like a graveyard to you?" He started thinking about the recent funeral of their friend Jazz and he shifted nervously.
There was a slight hesitation before Bumblebee answered. "No, Sam. Something like that wouldn't bother us. Ratchet would enjoy it as well." Ironhide grunted in agreement and Sam let out the breath he'd been inadvertently holding.
After a moment they arrived at a fairly good sized wooden garage and country store. Roscoe's Fix It – When you break it...we re-make it! "Hmm," Sam thought as he got out and looked around, "This had all the makings of bad stereotype." He almost expected banjos to be dueling somewhere close by.
The store itself was a fairly large wooden building, with a wide porch complete with swing. A rollup garage door dominated the far end of the building and a gravel driveway, stained through with oil, lead up to the closed door. Something unseen creaked in the breeze, and soft country music could be heard from inside somewhere. There was the smell of old oil, dust and hickory. In the window, a sale on homemade pecan pie and beef jerky was painted in bright window soap, even over the few cracked panes.
Behind the shack an enormous junk yard splayed out across the rolling hills. Machines, mostly cars, of all types dotted several acres interspersed with small clumps of thick trunked trees. Even a few planes and a boat or two were intermingled among the debris from what Sam could make out. Cranes, bulldozers, backhoes, and electromagnets and compactors poked above the masses and a small tendril of smoke from a forge trailed into the clear Mojave sky. Dirt paths threaded between the piles of rusting junk and in the far distance Sam could see a wooden barn nestled against the rising hills behind it.
A Google search of Roscoe's Fix it came up with it was the dumping ground, and best foraging site for the county. A modest, well worn, oil-stained parking lot gave testament to the well-being of the stores profit. The sun was low, and according to the sign, the store was nearly closed. "I'm going inside." Sam said quietly to his friends. "Hopefully this Zoe is home." The two Autobots waited quietly outside as Sam entered the building their sensors alert for any sign of threat and listening in on the conversation inside.
An ancient looking man looked up through thick lenses as the string of bells on the door jingled merrily, if a bit obnoxiously. "Why, hello son." He said cheerily, looking up from his work of stocking cans of smoked beans next to Doritos on rickety shelves. Sam smiled brightly and he continued his greeting, "What can I do ya fer today?"
Sam blinked. The man had no teeth! Keeping his observations to himself, he approached the counter and asked, "Hi. Are you Roscoe?"
"Fer certain, that I am." The old man replied, still focused on his job of stacking canned goods. He flashed his toothless gums at Sam. "Ya here ta have sumthin' fixed boy? I fix it all, ya know. Toasters, cars, blenders, ya name it."
Sam smiled. "Well, actually I'm here to find Zoe. Do you know her?"
The man nodded "Certain that I do. Why ya wanting Zoe fer?" Sam shifted uncomfortably as the man's amicable gaze suddenly gained a touch of steel, a slight tone of protectiveness.
"I uh...I'm an old friend."
The old man shook his head. "That girl ain't got no friends. Who are ya really?" His gaze narrowed as he squinted at Sam though his bifocals. "Girl's a bit of a recluse, that one. Don't talk to nobody. Don't go nowhere. Durn shame really. Pretty little thing. Real good with machines." He continued to peer at Sam. "I asked ya who ya are."
Sam suddenly had the feeling this old man might pull a shotgun on him, but still; he couldn't tell him the truth...well not the whole truth. "My name is Sam Witwicky. And well, you see...she bid on EBay on a pair of glasses...and sent me a message, so I came here to talk to her."
Roscoe squinted at Sam a few moments longer. "I 'spose thar ain't no harm in letting you two talk wit about that new fangled computer dohicky stuff. But ya better keep yer hands to yerself...girls got a spitfire temper and strong as an ox to boot." He pointed out towards the barn. "She's prob'ly out that way...spends all her time out there, 'mongst the bones."
Sam nodded gratefully and started to thank the old man when he went back to his can job. "Though," Roscoe added with an eerie tone that caused Sam to pause in the doorway. "If'n ya ain't who ya say ya are...she's libel ta bust ya up, and hide yer body out in them wood ferever. So watch yerself. Hate ta see a nice boy like you get all broke up."
Sam blinked at the statement with a slight bit of alarm and then headed back out to his friends, unaware that they had heard every word, and repeated it a second time for them. "Ok. He says Zoe is out here, but out in the barn. Though," Sam added, "We should be careful. It sounds like she's a bit um...violent or something." Both Ironhide and Bumblebee started their engines and Sam shook his head quickly. "Wait wait...maybe all of us shouldn't go out there."
"What do you mean?" Ironhide asked. "Why not?"
"Well...if we all go, it might look weird when there is two cars and only one driver." Sam reasoned. "The guy in there says she's a real loner, a crowd might scare her off. And remember," He added. "She knows about the AllSpark...there's a chance she knows about Autobots too."
Ironhide thought it over. Sam was right. It was tactically sound and logical to assume that anyone, or agency, that knew about the AllSpark, knew, at the least, about Megatron. So far, to the best of his limited knowledge, the only humans to know, definitively, about Megatron and the AllSpark, were agents of Sector 7. Warning alarms sounded in his processors, this Zoe seemed like a threat, but she had sent a warning to Sam, so perhaps it was too early to judge. Ironhide decided to hold back his reservations for now and he grumbled deeply. Besides, Sam had a point; none of them had bothered to put their holomatter generators online yet, though Ironhide simply tinted his windows instead. It was still possible for an extremely astute human to notice the vehicles had no drivers. "Fine, I'll stay back here, but if you need anything, I'll keep my cannons ready."
Sam hoped mightily nothing would need shooting as he and Bumblebee headed towards the distant barn. It wasn't a straight shot to the barn, and the two quickly found themselves disorientated among the taller piles of scrap around them.
Bumblebee frowned as they took yet another wrong turn. It was as if the paths were designed to be confusing, though what truly confused him was how, even with his advanced sensors and processing ability, he was just as lost as Sam. After two dead ends and several long minutes of being lost Sam and Bumblebee, at last, found themselves at their destination.
As Sam stepped out of the Camaro, he noticed the large barn door was open, but the shadows were too dark inside to see. Several small sodium fixtures suddenly flickered to life as the twilight shadows activated the photocells. "Don't change yet Bumblebee..."
"I won't Sam. Just be careful." He said softly. "She might know about Mega ---"
He suddenly stopped talking as a smaller door opened and girl, who appeared to be several years older than Sam walked out. She eyed the Camaro for a long moment before she turned her gaze back to Sam. "Pretty nice car," she said slowly. "But what do you need?" Her tone was wary, guarded, and as she tilted her head to one side slightly, Sam got the impression that she was sizing him up. The girl's hair, a dark shade of white-blond, was tied back with a rubber band and a dirty pair of coveralls, stained with grease and mud, loosely covered what appeared to be a well formed body. She took a few steps to the side of the door towards Sam, moving with an athletic grace. Her eyes, bright blue against her deeply bronzed skin, never wavered from Sam. "Hello? You." She repeated when Sam didn't answer right away. "-What- do you want?"
"Are you...ah...You're Zoe right?" He paused as her gaze narrowed suddenly. "Um..." he faltered, "Yeah see, uh, I had these glasses on EBay...you sent me the message about the AllSpark...uh...I was just—"
She was instantly on edge. Her body language changed visibly and her nose crinkled somewhat in a small sneer. "Don't you know it's rude to not tell someone your own name before you ask questions from them?" She continued as Sam stammered out his name waving off his attempt to amend his rudeness. "Never mind. I know who you are, Ladiesman 217. Your profile has a photo."
Sam was suddenly reminded of Barricade and a cold chill passed through his body.
Unaware of Sam's sudden personal discomfort, Zoe continued as she took a questioning step towards him. "Who sent you?" Her eyes narrowed in suspicion as she looked out from under furrowed brow. "Did THEY send you?"
"They?" Sam thought quickly and the light of understanding began to dawn on him. She apparently thought he was from Sector 7. He started to tell her that Sector 7 had been disbanded. "Oh... Yeah...Sector 7---"
Before Sam could register the movement he found himself on his back the dirt, unhurt but very surprised. The speed of her sudden tackle startled Sam but he quickly shook it off as she sat on him. He kicked up suddenly they rolled in the dirt for a moment. From somewhere behind him Sam heard Bumblebee transform into robot form. He knew was not the most athletic guy in the class, nor was he the strongest but her body felt like corded iron. Sam understood all too well he didn't stand much of a chance against her. She slowly grew more and more serious as he continued to resist. "You'll never take me back there." She hissed rolling back on top of him, her hands now at his collar. "I'll die first."
Suddenly her grip faltered as she looked up. As Bumblebee's hand swiped at her, she rolled away in a dodge away dragging Sam along with her. Reacting first to the larger threat, she threw Sam down against the wall harmlessly and leapt upwards at Bumblebee to plant both feet into the Autobots chest. Grunting, she kicked strongly between the headlights on his chest to send the Autobot backwards in a stagger with a power that far exceeded the visible ability of her human body.
It was more of a shove then a kick though, and Zoe recovered with a back flip. She landed in a three point crouch and slid backwards a short distance to a stop, a trail of dust before her.
Bumblebee, utterly shocked that any human could possess such strength was unprepared for her next assault. Zoe ran forward to duck between his legs and kick him in his knee joint. It buckled easily, sending him off balance, and she launched her body upwards into his back, between his doors and fenders that stood out like wings. She shoved him forward again with another powerful kick that sent him sprawling forward, off balance even further, into the barn wall...which amazingly withstood his impact with a echoing boom.
Bumblebee recovered quickly, quicker then Zoe anticipated and he spun away off the wall to lunge back at her, his hand open wide. He simply couldn't yet find it in himself to punch her, plus he was unsure how much damage she could take. She might be an exceptionally strong human...but she was ultimately still human and still a creature of flesh and bone. And she was far outmatched by the Autobot before her.
It was a matter of tactics, Bumblebee knew. She was small and hard to hit, it gave her a speed advantage. Her only real tactic was to keep him off balance. In such a state, her physical attacks would have merit. Otherwise, they would bounce off his armored body uselessly.
His fingers clipped her shoulder she tumbled backwards in the dust only to glare up at him, holding her shoulder painfully. She quite obviously planned her next move even as she and Bumblebee locked gazes, like two predators in the wild. Suddenly she bolted from her position to avoid a cannon blast that left a small crater beside where she had just sat. On her agile feet again, she snarled towards the new threat. Ironhide.
Ironhide, monitoring the exchange from a distance had dropped all pretense of disguise when Bumblebee transformed. He hadn't taken the road Bumblebee and Sam had, rather he took the straight path, leaping from pile to pile. It let him join the fray quickly, though he too was hesitant to use the full power of his cannons, if at all, on a human, even one who displayed unusual abilities like this one. Ironhide enjoyed using his weapons but ultimately, he was still an Autobot. He was still a defender of those weaker then himself. To do anything less would make him a Decepticon.
But that didn't mean he couldn't miss on purpose. Scare tactics.
"NO!" Sam cried. "No no!!" This is bad! Really bad. He got up but had to dive for cover again as a nearby backhoe, devoid of a driver, swung its metal arm at Ironhide, not hurting him, but surprising him with a minor head shot. The machine, come to life on its own, now stabbed out with the metal claws on the bucket towards Ironhide again. "No!! Stop STOP!" Sam ran out between them, not registering the fact that the backhoe was moving by itself. "We're not here to hurt you!"
As Ironhide turned to face the mobile construction equipment, Zoe dodged between Bumblebee's attempts at capture and jumped up the back of the larger, and infinitely slower, Autobot and put her hand inside the space between the plating of his armored skin. Sudden smoke began to pour out of Ironhide's back. He spun around trying to grab at her, at the smoke, and she jumped clear with plenty of room to spare.
Worried at first that the smoke was Ironhide's, Bumblebee quickly realized it was simply a cover, it would be harder for him to attack her if he couldn't see her. It was a smart move on her part, and part of him wondered why she hadn't opted to place something stronger there, perhaps something explosive, but he didn't dwell on that long, as the backhoe began its assault anew on his comrade.
The backhoe, while sturdy, was only a minor distraction for the battle hardened Ironhide. Frustrated and tired, he ripped the metal bucket from the backhoe and sent it towards Zoe. It wasn't a serious throw and would have missed her, even if she'd stood still. Instead, she leapt straight up into the air and it slammed into the barn wall below her with another loud clang. She landed gracefully on top of the bucket, only to jump away again as Bumblebee reached out towards her again trying to subdue rather than injure.
The thought occurred to both Ironhide and Bumblebee at the same time and both Autobots took several steps backwards. Intimidation might work better in this case, and they both pointed their guns at Zoe, well out of range of even her swift melee attacks.
She suddenly had the look of a deer in headlights, but as Sam rushed out, he presented her with an opportunity.
A hostage.
Darting forward at him, she locked her hand around his forearm. Surprised, Sam managed to choke out, "We're not here to hurt you! We're not from – ugk!" Further words were cut off as she dragged him backwards, still by the arm, to a more defendable position.
"First of all," She scolded, "You shouldn't stand up in a firefight like the civilians on those shooting games. You'll get hurt. Second." She said quickly as she backed up. "I don't want to hurt you and I hate that you've forced me to resort to such a cowardly tactic." Her voice was full of pain, and she seemed different then just two minutes before. She pointed a finger in Sam's face as she spoke, as if this was his entire fault. She seemed alone, vulnerable...scared. "But I won't let your friends take me back to Sector 7. I'll die first. Thirdly...I won't let you hurt him. Tell your allies to leave now..."
Bumblebee's voice was menacing. "Let Sam go." He demanded speaking over her short tirade to Sam. A surge of anger flowed through him, and he was suddenly more serious than he had been even a minute before. How dare someone try to harm his best friend? HIS human. He lowered his gun just a bit, but remained ready. Beside him, Ironhide also pulled his cannon back a bit, unwilling to harm Sam by accident as well.
Suddenly a weak voice cut over them all. "W-what is with...all this noise?"
Ironhide and Bumblebee turned to look at the figure that collapsed in the large doorway and both gasped in shock.
"JAZZ??"
