Important Note: Strapped, not stripped. They were strapped to the table. Don't worry though, for those of you looking for dead bots and gratuitous violence, there will be plenty in later chapters!


Murphy's Law

Chapter 3: Slip Up

The optics, which had only an hour ago been dark and lifeless, were blazing bright blue, and met her gaze with as much surprise as her own brown eyes possessed. They stared at each other for what felt like eternity, neither knowing quite what to do. Grace shifted her weight onto her back leg, and the robot snapped out of his stupor. He (she was guessing it was a he, anyway. Giant killer robots did seem like a male thing) raised his gun and Grace found herself sprinting for the stairs, trying to wrestle her own .9mm out of it's holster.

She was almost at the bottom of the stairs when her old, tread-less sneakers flew out from under her. With a choked cry, she threw out her hands and managed to keep herself from a glorious face plant against the concrete. A bad pain shot up her arm, but she ignored it in favor of scrambling to her feet and searching for her gun, which she had dropped during the fall.

An echoing crash reminded her of why she was running in the first place. She turned to stare up at the catwalk, and saw the robot staring down at her. He was the shorter one, painted red and adorned with little horns on his head. The stairs were just a bit out of proportion for him, but it didn't seem that would deter him from killing her. He grasped the railing and leapt over it, free-falling the fifty or so feet to the ground and landing in a rather impressive crouch. Had Grace been holding a scorecard, she would have given him a ten. Instead, she was staring down the massive barrel of a huge gun, and felt like fainting or screaming. She wasn't sure which.

"Where are the others?" The robot demanded, shoving the gun (or was it a rocket launcher?) against her chest.

Grace went oddly pale at the question. He could talk? They could talk? What was this, some artificial intelligence experiment gone wrong?

"I asked you a question!" The robot continued to press her with the gun, and in response Grace backed up. All too soon she was cornered against the wall. She looked up at the blue eyes and felt her own fill with tears.

"Please don't kill me," she squeaked quietly.

The robot, who looked equally disturbed and disgusted by her tears, was saved from answering by the arrival of the other short robot. He hurried down the stairs, carefully placing his large feet to avoid falling.

"Cliffjumper, put that away," he snapped as he reached them. The yellow robot grabbed the muzzle of the gun and pulled it away from Grace's chest, and she was certain she would never feel this relieved (or terrified) again in her life. The red robot, Cliffjumper, yanked his gun back and glared at his comrade.

"Shut up Bee," he tried to point the gun at her again, but the yellow robot stopped him. "It's one of them. They did this to us. Do you have any idea how long we've been shut down?" His voice grew louder with every word, echoing around the vast room and into the hall. "Do you know where the others are? They could be dead for all we know!" Grace quite suddenly found the gun shoved against her neck and chin. "What does it matter if I kill it?"

"It matters because you are an Autobot." A new voice, deeper and stronger than the two small robots, spoke from the catwalk. All three turned and looked up to see the giant red and blue robot watching them, arms crossed over his chest. "Stand down, Cliffjumper."

The red robot hesitated a moment, before pulling his gun back and somehow making it disappear from sight. "Yes sir," he grunted, keeping his angry eyes on the girl.

The big robot nodded in approval. "Bumblebee, stay here with the human. Cliffjumper, come with me." He turned and left the room, and Cliffjumper stomped up the stairs to follow, grumbling all the while.

Her legs suddenly unable to hold her weight, Grace slid to the floor and dropped her head onto her knees. The yellow robot stood back for a moment, letting her catch her breath, before reaching out to touch her shoulder. She leapt a foot in the air at the contact and stared at him, not able to fathom what was going to happen next.

Bumblebee gave her a strained but sincere smile. "Don't worry, Cliffjumper's the worst. The rest of us are pretty nice." He had found her backpack at the bottom of the stairs and held it out to her. "Here you go."

Grace flinched, but took the bag and fished out her water bottle. She finished half of it in one gulp and replaced it, wishing she had brought more. She also wished she had thought to tuck her .45 Beretta in the side pocket. Well, if wishes her fishes and all that...

The yellow robot was looking at her curiously, but wisely stayed silent. Grace closed her eyes and tilted her head back against the wall, forcing herself to take deep breaths and willing her heart to stop outpacing the speed of light. The yellow robot sat on the bottom few stairs and simply watched her, something akin to fascination in his glowing blue eyes.


"Why'd you stop me?" Cliffjumper demanded as he followed his commanding officer into the first room off the hall. Optimus ignored him, and as soon as the red minibot was in the room he shut the door. "It was just a human! And he might have known where the others were!"

Prime rounded on the mech and did his very best to reign in his temper. "So you pointed a gun at his head?" He demanded, and the assembled mechs stopped their murmured conversations in favor of staring at the pair.

"Yeah. If it'll get us answers, then why not?" 'Jumper crossed his arms and glowered up at his leader. They had been in stasis for Primus-knows how long, and he was more than ready to bash in a few skulls. "That human has to be one of them if he's down here!"

"What human?" Jazz, who had been lounging on one of the berths he had set flat, sat up and looked at the minibot. "Is that why you took off running?"

"Yes! There's a human here in the hanger, and he has to know where the others are." Cliffjumper ran a finger over the trigger of his re-drawn weapon, eager for confrontation. "We should make him tell us what he knows."

"No." Prime reached out and jerked the gun from Cliffjumpers' hand. "We do not threaten innocent organics, Cliffjumper. You know that." He looked around the room. "You all know that." He subspaced the gun and glanced at his third in command. "Jazz, have you hacked the wireless communications network yet?"

The mech gave his commander a thumbs up. "Sure have, boss," he answered cheerily. "The humans call it the 'Internet,' and it has everything." He beamed at Prowl. "I can has energon?"

"No," the mech said flatly, running through the 'internet' himself. "According to this, it is the year 2014. If my databanks are correct, we arrived here in the year 1984." He looked oddly pale as he gazed at his comrade. "It had been thirty stellar cycles."

"Exactly!" Cliffjumper bellowed, having pulled another big-ass gun out of nowhere. "Who knows what's happened to our comrades! We have to find them."

"Cliffjumper, calm down." Prime entertained the notion of locking down his subordinates subspace, before deciding that they really just didn't have the time. He looked at his second. "Prowl, Jazz, I want you to research what you can about what has happened in the last thirty years. Look for anything that could possibly refer to the Decepticons or our lost comrades."

"No problem, Prime," Jazz chirped happily, and Optimus wondered how the mech could always sound so cheerful, even in the most dire of situations. He reclined on one of the berths and tapped his foot to a beat none of them could hear.

"Optimus?" Hound, who had been standing back with Bluestreak, took a step forward. "Perhaps I could go help Bee with the human? I researched them thoroughly before...well, you know..." He shrugged uncomfortably.

Prime nodded. "Of course. I'm sure they would both appreciate it," he stepped to the side and allowed the green mech to hurry out the door. As soon as the door shut, he looked at his remaining troops. "Alright, lets figure out our next move."


The next time Grace looked up, there were two robots. She blinked, and the boxy green one smiled at her.

"Hello," he greeted cheerfully, "My name is Hound." Grace made a sound akin to a mouse being trodden on by and elephant, and his smile faded a bit. "Are you alright?"

"No," she answered honestly before lurching to her feet, stumbling a ways along the wall and emptying her stomach on the ground. The yellow bot started after her, but the green one stopped him and shook his head. After a few minutes she stood, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand and blinking tears out of her eyes. She looked back over her shoulder and offered them a weak smile. "Sorry."

"No need to apologize, little lady," Hound answered, recognizing her body frame for what it was. He would have actually preferred interacting with a male human – they tended to be made of sterner stuff, and he had much more experience with them. Almost all of the scientists they had worked with before the incident had been male. He motioned for Bee to sit back on the steps and joined him.

Grace watched them warily, not moving from her spot. There was nearly twenty feet between them now, but she was sure they would be able to cross the distance in only a handful of steps if she tried to run. Not to mention they were blocking the only exit out of the room. The silence stretched out between them, and the green robot shifted uneasily.

"M'names Hound," he introduced himself, "and this is Bumblebee." He motioned to the little yellow robot, who nodded in greeting. Grace looked from one to the other, but didn't say anything. "What's your name?"

She hesitated, before figuring that there was nothing they could do with just a name. "Grace."

The yellow one, Bumblebee, smiled. "That's a nice name," he complimented. She gave a small, jerky nod. The green robot shifted, blue-eyes glowing and thoughtful.

"We won't hurt you, Grace," he relaxed back on the steps and gave her what he thought was a comforting smile. The girl didn't relax, but her gaze shifted from completely terrified to carefully curious. She chewed on her bottom lip for a moment, before deciding there was nothing for it and she was probably going to die anything.

"What are you guys?"

"We're Autobots, of course," Hound answered, pointed to the red face-like symbol on his armor. "Didn't your commanding officer brief you before you came here?"

"Commanding officer? Oh, no! No, no, no," Grace waved her hands in front of her, "I'm not a soldier."

"You aren't?" Bee sat up straighter and stared at her intensely, "Then what are you doing down here? And why did you reactivate us?"

"I didn't!" A note of panic clawed it's way into her voice. "I'm sorry about whatever I did to wake you up, but I didn't mean to do it!"

"So you're a civilian?" Hound's voice was quiet and thoughtful. Grace nodded eagerly. "Well that makes this slightly more complicated." Hound reclined on the stairs once more, optics dimming as he lost himself in thought.

Bee gave his comrade a funny look, then turned his attention back to the human. "How did you end up down here if you're a civvie?"

"It was an accident," she confessed. "I was looking around one of the hangers I was supposed to be guarding, and some bats scared me. I hit the wall, and a lift came up out of the floor." She shrugged. "And, well, I'm helpless against curiosity."

"Most humans are," Bee said sagely, but a smile tugged at his lips. "So what did you do when you saw the lift."

"I got some supplies," she motioned to her knapsack, "And came down to explore. I turned one the lights in the first two rooms – is that what woke you up?"

"No," Bee moved to sit on the floor at the bottom of the stairs, which was much more comfortable. "It was the heat."

Realization dawned. "So you were all frozen?" Bee nodded.

"Our bodies can't stand very cold temperatures for very long. It freezes our oil and energon lines. When you turned on the heat, we were able to 'thaw out' and stretch our legs."

"Why were you frozen?" Grace also sat down, still a good distance from the robots. "Why are you even here? Does the government know about you? And what exactly are you?"

"Your government is the one who did this to us," Hound had sat back up, and was glaring daggers at a spot in the wall above her head. Bee patted his knee reassuringly.

"How about we start from the beginning," he suggested softly to his friend before turning back to the human. "Grace, we're from Cybertron, which is a planet a long ways from here."

"So you're...aliens?" The two bots honestly hadn't thought the human could grow any paler, but she proved them wrong.

"I guess to you, we are," Bee affirmed. "Anyway, we lived on Cybertron, and everything was great. There were plenty of jobs and energon to go around, and for a while everything was perfect. Then a mech decided that he wasn't happy with his life, and decided to do something about it."

"His name was Megatron," Hound interrupted, fiddling with what looked like a rocket launcher on his shoulder. A moment later, Grace jumped out of her skin as a third robot joined them. He was huge, taller than the other two, and almost all white. On his right arm was a large, black bazooka, and his eyes were dark red and angry. The human waited with baited breath, expecting him to move, but the robot just shimmered there. After a moment, he disappeared.

"Was that...did you see that?" She pointed to the spot where the robot had been.

To her surprise, Hound began to laugh. "Sorry," he chuckled, "I should have warned you. That was a hologram." He fiddled with the rocket launcher/projector again, and a silvery ball appeared floating in mid air. It quickly formed peaks and valleys and lights, and metal cities popped up across the surface. "This one is Cybertron," Hound said fondly, and pointed at the largest gathering of light on the planet. "This is Iacon, the capital city of the planet."

"It's beautiful," Grace had to admit, "Why did you leave?"

Both of the robot's faces darkened. "This was a long time ago," Hound sighed, running a hand through the hologram. Immediately the planet changed – large planes of metal collapsed in on the planet, the cities burned into rubble, and the entire sphere seemed to darken. "Megatron decided that he didn't want to be a miner, but instead of training himself in another profession, he decided to start a war. He went to the underground Gladiator rings and beat up whoever he could to prove he was tough. A lot of bots supported him, and soon he was ravaging the planet in order to give himself what he needed to take over. The government in Iacon collapsed, and the world descended into what kindly could be referred to as chaos."

"The war took over the whole planet, not to mention the colonies. Anyone who refused to side with Megatron was killed, even the neutrals, femmes and sparklings." The hologram disappeared and Hound leaned back, a look of deep pain and sadness in his eyes. "There used to be a couple million of us," his voice had dropped to barely above a whisper, "Now I'd be surprised if there were a couple hundred." He closed his eyes – it looked like little shutters folded down over them – and didn't speak for several minutes.

"So what happened?" Grace prodded. "You guys don't follow this...this Megatron character, do you?"

"Of course not," Hound scoffed, sitting back up and glaring at her. The human cringed backwards, the the green robot sighed and directed his ire elsewhere. "Megatron and his followers took over much of the planet before we were able to combat them. They named themselves Decepticons," he spat the name with such venom that even Bumblebee looked surprised. "But then Megatron attacked a docking station, and he sealed his fate for good." The hologram flickered to life once more, revealing the big blue and red robot that had come into the room earlier. "He attacked a mech named Orion Pax. He was nearly killed, but an ancient mech who knew the old ways of the planets saved him, and he was rebuild as Optimus Prime. He gathered together the forces that were rebelling against Megatron, and under his command the Autobots were born."

Both robots seemed to sit up straighter at this, and for the first time Grace noted the identical red symbols painted on their shoulders and chest. "Is that what those faces mean?" She asked curiously.

Bumblebee nodded, glad she was catching on so fast. "Yes," he leaned forward so she could get a better look at the symbol on his chest. "The Decepticons have a similar symbol, only theirs is normally purple and much more...sharp."

"So what happened? In the war, I mean." Grace straightened her legs and leaned back on her hands, finding her fear of the robots slowly but surely diminishing.

"We ran out of resources," Bee picked up the story. "The colonies had been destroyed, and what Energon reserves there were on Cybertron were drained dry. Optimus Prime launched an expedition to explore the surrounding galaxies and find a way to restore power to Cybertron. He commissioned a pair of scientists – Wheeljack and Perceptor, some of the most brilliant inventors around – to build a ship." He looked sadly around the room and motioned to the odd, rusting metal spread around the large space. "This is all that remains."

Grace looked at the curved piece sitting near her, and reached out to run a hand along the metal. Some of the blue-green rust came off on her fingers, and she examined it closely. Bumblebee continued to speak while she gazed at the metal.

"We were all on the ship," he motioned back to the door at the top of the stairs, "And about twenty more of us as well. But Megatron go wind of our plans and used his own ship to follow us. He attacked, and several of our comrades were lost during the battle. We won though, in the end. The 'cons crash landed on a little planet at the far end of this galaxy." He squinted his optics, thinking hard, "I think you call it Pluto."

"It's not a planet," she said without thinking, "Not anymore."

"Oh?"

"It was demoted." She smiled to herself; she still found the whole thing ridiculous. "Scientists agreed that it was too small to be considered a 'real' planet so they labeled it a dwarf planet."

Bee looked equally confused and amused. "Oh. Well, you know what I'm talking about, right?" She nodded. "They crashed there, and when we scanned the ship we couldn't find any living energy signatures. Megatron and his elite forces were dead."

"Just from a crash?" Grace asked in surprise.

"More than that," Hound grinned thoughtfully, "I'm pretty sure I saw Megatron get an ax in the face. Not many mechs would survive that kind of injury, even with a medic."

The woman couldn't help but feel a little unnerved by the way they spoke of death, as though it were a casual occurrence. She shrugged it off – war did funny things to ones mind, as her eldest brother could attest. He had come back from Iraq nearly two years ago, where he had exchanged his left leg for a rather severe case of PTSD. Sometimes when the family was gathered for holidays, she could hear him crying in the guest room when he thought everyone else was asleep.

"So did you all go back to Cybertron?"

Hound shook his head. "No, we didn't have the resources for our ship. We searched the galaxy for a planet that could provide us with enough energy to get home, and found Earth. When we landed, it was the year 1983, and we touched down in what you call America. Your government met with us, and we told them the same story I just told you."

"Really?" Grace leaned forward, "And how did they react?"

The two exchanged a look, and Bumblebee began to speak again. "They offered to help, in exchange for information." He paused, browsing the internet for a moment. "You know your computers, and MP3 players and advanced vehicles? All thanks to Wheeljack helping your scientists and inventors develop more advanced technology in a short space of time."

"Well if they were helping, why did they freeze you and leave you here?" Grace asked bluntly.

Bee rolled his eyes. "We mentioned the 'O' word." At her clueless look, he elaborated. "Oil."

Realization dawned, and she gaped at them. "You're joking." They shook their heads. "The government turned and froze you in time because you needed oil?"

"Wheeljack wanted to see if he could form a type of synthetic oil to use on Cybertron to restore energy, but your Government balked at the idea. Apparently, a lot of large companies back several members of your government, and they convinced some of the leading agents that Optimus was out to take over the planet through oil."

"They thought he was a terrorist?"

The two grimaced and nodded. Hound continued, "Yes. The government split us up – there used to be around thirty of us. The agents called certain mechs to different areas in this country, and then attacked. They used liquid nitrogen to force us into stasis, and that's the last that we remember."

"Let me get this straight," Grace stood and pinched the bridge of her nose, hoping to keep the encroaching headache at bay. "The United States Government agreed to help you power your ship in exchange for information to help advance their technology. Then, when you mentioned you wanted to research oil, some crazy tycoons bribed them into shutting you down?"

"Yes, although it doesn't sound as dramatic when you say it." Bumblebee agreed.

"Gawd, I need some Aspirin," Grace picked up her bag and looked at the two. "Do you think it would be alright if I went up to my camper? It's just outside the hanger up top," she thumbed at the roof. "I really need something for this headache, not to mention my arm." While they were talking, her wrist had begun to bruise and swell.

"We'll have to ask Prime," Hound stood, and decided to ignore the way Grace flinched and stepped back. "Do you want to come with us and meet the others?"

"We won't let Cliffjumper near you, I swear," Bee held up two of his fingers in a boy scout salute.

"That's the little angry red one?" She guessed, and he nodded. "Well, as long as you all aren't going to step on me..."

"Perish the thought!" Hound carefully climbed the stairs, which by some miracle of '80s engineering held his weight. Bee rolled his eyes followed slowly, listening intently but keeping his eyes ahead. After a moment, he heard the humans tennis shoes hurrying up the stairs behind them. They reached the hall and approached the first door, which was now open and spilling light and warmth into the hall.

Grace trailed behind the two robots, deep in thought. She was hoping they would let her up to her camper; she couldn't get a cell phone signal down here, or send off an email. If they let her go back up, she could shoot Mr. Murphy a message and tell him that she had to speak with him. If worse came to worse, she could also speak to Simmons. They could tell her what had happened here thirty years ago, and maybe even confirm the Autobots story.

Hound stopped at the door and peered in. Prime and his officers were deep in conversation, while Sideswipe, Bluestreak and Cliffjumper stood off to the side, quietly speaking among themselves. Jazz looked up as the three appeared, and grinned.

"Hey there guys. Who's your new friend?"

The others in the room stilled and turned to the door, suddenly quiet. Grace fought down the urge to run and wished she had remembered to grab her gun before leaving the hanger. She looked at the mechs, who were each watching her with intense blue eyes.

"Well?" The visored mech had sat on one of the berths and was swinging his legs back and forth. "C'mon, Hound, be polite and introduce us!"

The green robot stepped into the room, and Grace swallowed her fear as best she could and followed. "Everyone," he began, "this is Grace. Grace, this is everyone."

She blinked, and then looked up at him. "I don't think that really helps..."

The visored mech chuckled. "Give 'em a break, Gracie, Hound's a shy bot. I'm Jazz." He tilted his head in greeting, then looked at the next mech. She suddenly found herself being bombarded with names.

"I am Ratchet."

"M'names Ironhide."

"I'm Bluestreak, and this is Sideswipe and you already met Cliffjumper."

"My designation is Prowl."

The last mech stepped forward. "And I am Optimus Prime."

Grace felt her heart catch in her chest. He was, by far, the largest and most intimidating robot in the room. A squeaky 'hello' escaped her lips, and the robot chuckled.

"We find ourselves in your debt, Miss Grace." He knelt before the startled girl, drawing her attention. "Without you, we may have been trapped in stasis for much of the future."

Grace flushed. "Really, you don't have to thank me, it was an accident." She insisted, holding up her hands. "I was just curious about the lift."

Hound, who had already told Prime what he had learned about the girl, coughed to catch the commander attention. "Optimus, Grace was hoping to return to her home and retrieve some medication before we carry on with our conversations and planning."

Prime considered the girl carefully, ignoring her fidgeting. The others had come closer, surrounding them, and he couldn't help but feel sympathy for the young human. "Are you alright, Grace?"

"Yeah, just a headache," she shrugged and showed him her swollen left hand, "And a sprained wrist. Nothing I haven't dealt with before. I live in a camper just by the hangers." She pointed up at the ceiling again. "It'll only take a minute."

"Prime," the red robot named Ironhide spoke up, "I'm not sure about this. Just 'cause she's a civvie doesn't mean she can't contact those humans."

"She wasn't even alive when it happened, 'Hide," Bumblebee piped up. "We can't just leave her in pain." The human shot him a thankful smile, but the red robot remained unconvinced.

Optimus heaved a sigh (did robots need to breath?) and looked down at her. "Grace, do you swear not to contact anyone else while you get your medication? We want to have some time to adjust to what has happened the past thirty years or so."

Grace nodded, and to her credit she didn't bat an eyelash as she lied to his face. "Of course! I'll just grab some Aspirin and an Ace roll and come back down." He smiled and nodded, and she turned to exit the room.

A large, red foot slammed down in front of her, and Grace fell back with a squeak of fright. Above her, Ironhide glowered and cradled his rifle as he snarled.

"You're lying."


AN: Thank you so much for all the reviews! They really blew me away! Also, I really enjoy constructive criticism, and apply it to my stories as best I can. So if you have any suggestions or note any mistakes, please let me know. I hope you enjoyed reading, and give me some great reviews to help fuel the next chapter!