Two hundred and fifty miles above the surface of the Earth, the space shuttle made final preparations for docking with the International Space Station.
"ISS, this is Commander Willard, of shuttle Discovery."
"We read you Commander Willard. This is Natasha Holt, chief science officer. Welcome to the International Space Station."
Commander Willard grinned at his co-pilot, Erica Lance. "We're not there yet, ISS." He switched to a different cannel. "Control, this is Discovery. We're ready to make final docking with ISS."
"Understood Discovery. Adjust attitude and commence docking."
"Confirmed, Control. Adjusting attitude."
A red light started blinking on the control board.
"Discovery," Natasha's voice came over the com. "We have an unidentified, incoming object. Abort docking! The object is on collision course with Discovery!"
Commander Willard didn't question. He flipped switches rapidly, changing Discovery's trajectory.
"ISS. Discovery. This is Control. What's going on?"
"ISS states there's an unidentified object on collision course with Discovery," Willard said.
"I see it," Erica said. "Off the port side. It's . . . good Lord in heaven."
"What? Discovery! ISS! What's going on?!"
"It looks like a huge metal sphere," Natasha's shaky voice said over the comm.
Commander Willard blocked out the conversation as he tried to maneuver the shuttle out of the way of the sphere. The thing was changing attitude with them, staying on collision course.
"Our Father, which art in heaven," Erica murmured from the seat next to him. Willard spared her a glance. Her face was white as she watched the sphere grow in the port side window. "Hallowed by thy name. Thy kingdom come, thy will be done, in earth as it is in Heaven . . ."
All transmission from Discovery ended abruptly. Several seconds later a burst of static filled Command's channels. After it stopped, silence reigned.
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Something was tapping on his window. Sam Witwicky rolled over in his sleep and muttered something unintelligible.
The tapping came again.
"Jus' 'nother five minutes, mom," Sam sighed, snuggling into his blankets.
"Sam."
The voice had Sam leaping out of bed and racing for the window. Bright blue optics, set in a huge metallic face were staring at him from the other side of the glass. Sam pushed open the window, leaned out, and looked around.
"Bumblebee, what's up? It's the middle of the night."
"The space shuttle's been destroyed," Bumblebee said, keeping his voice down. "NASA isn't releasing a lot of information right now, but I think we ought to go see Optimus and the others."
"Now?" Sam asked, wiping sleep from his eyes.
Bumblebee's metal face managed to look guilty. "No. Not now. I just wanted to tell you. Something about this situation doesn't feel right. We know some of the Decepticons were still functional at the end of our battle, but . . ."
"But you haven't been able to find them," Sam finished. "Better to be safe than sorry. We'll go see the others tomorrow." He looked back at his clock. It was two a.m. "Just let me get another few hours of sleep. We'll be out of here by eight. Good thing tomorrow's Saturday."
Bumblebee nodded. "Good night, Sam."
"Night, 'Bee."
Sam watched as the yellow Autobot stepped back to his place on the side of the house and transformed to his Camero form. Then he closed the window and went back to his bed. He dropped down and flung an arm over his eyes. Sam knew that other Autobots had answered Optimus's message and were coming to Earth. It made sense that other Decepticons would be coming as well, though he wished they'd just stay away.
With the Allspark gone, surly there can't be anything here that the Decepticons would want,Sam thought.
He sighed in frustration and rolled over, falling into a sleep trouble by dreams of war between a race of huge robots.
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Jess cried out as a hand clamped around her arm and dragged her from her bed. She landed hard on the floor and the hand around her arm disappeared. Bright light flooded the room, blinding her. She blinked, trying to clear her vision.
"Where's m'dinner, girl?" her uncle's harsh voice rasped.
Jess's vision cleared. She could tell right away that Richard had been drinking. He was swaying on his feet and his eyes were red-rimmed. Her eyes darted to the digital clock next to her bed. It was three in the morning. She turned back to her uncle.
"I'm sorry, Richard. When you didn't–"
The slap to her cheek stopped her words. She cried out and shrank back against the side of her bed.
"It's UNCLE Richard," her uncle roared. "Show me some respect, girl! You show that damned grease monkey more respect than you do me, your own flesh and blood!"
Jess bit her lip to keep from crying and blinked against the tears blurring her vision. A sob escaped her as Richard's hand clamped around her arm again and he hauled her to her feet.
"Get down to the kitchen and get my dinner ready," he snarled, his face close to hers.
Jess gagged on the smell of alcohol. Her uncle shoved her out of her room and down the hall. She stumbled and nearly pitched down the stairs. She caught herself on the banister, then ran down and into the kitchen. Richard stood in the doorway and watched her with his bloodshot eyes. Jess was shaking so badly, she cut herself twice and nearly dropped the hot pan of food. Richard snarled at her and smacked the side of her head as he took the pan and carried it into the living room.
Jess crumpled to the floor and sobbed. Long minutes later she got to her feet. She cleaned up the kitchen as quietly as she couyld, then timidly looked into the living room. Richard was asleep on the couch, the food not even touched. She slipped back up to her room and locked the door. She huddled in her bed for a long time, jumping at every sound and praying her uncle would stay asleep. Sometime later, she fell asleep, only to wake a couple of hours later. She dressed and slipped out of the house, heading for Liam's garage. It was too early for him to be there, but she knew where he kept a spare key.
She let herself into the garage, keeping the lights off. Quickly she made her way back to where her car stood in it's corner. She climbed into the back seat and lay down, curling into a ball, and cried herself to sleep. Liam found her there when he came in to open the garage for business. He sent Chris out to McDonald's to pick up some breakfast and gently woke Jess. Once she'd told him the story, he agreed to let her stay with him over the weekend. Jess spent the day with Chris working on her car. Liam occasionally joined them between customers and ordered out for lunch. He closed the garage early, since it was Saturday and took both Chris and Jess to an early dinner.
After taking Chris home, Liam took Jess back to his house and gave her the guest room.
"You lied, uncle Liam," Jess said, her tone teasing.
He blinked at her. "Huh?"
"You said your house was a mess. It's cleaner than Richard's."
Liam chuckled. "What can I say, Jessie Baby? I'm just a neat freak."
"So–"
"Sorry, baby, I still can't let you come stay with me for an extended period. But I'll go by Richard's tomorrow and have a talk with him." Liam's face went hard. "If he ever hits you again, you let me know. We'll work something out, 'kay?"
Jess nodded, though she was disappointed. Why wouldn't he just take her in?
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The Corolla was furious. It had listened all day as Jessie and Chris had talked, but one thing kept coming to its memory.
Richard had hit her.
My Jessie.
Richard was going to pay.