Alright, I know that I'm updating quickly. I'm making the next chapter long and good, so I want to hurry up and post this one. You can thank me later.
I don't own it. Review.
The military base was small, only able to hold a minority of the N.E.S.T troops. It was nestled in the corner of Florida, right next to its border. It was one of the bases, though, closest to Diego Garcia. Trees surrounded it on three sides. You could see the ocean clearly, a shimmering mass of light blue. There was a town less than a couple miles away from the base.
Now, Optimus sat in the med bay, watching Ratchet work on the human female. Her conditions were stable, something he hadn't expected from a victim of a wound of this magnitude. She wasn't writhing around in sheer agony like the female in Seattle had been, but she would twitch occasionally, as if she were trying to expel some disturbing thought from her brain.
Ratchet was muttering to himself, working away, paying no attention to the human slowly slip across the room, coming to stand beside Prime's foot. Optimus looked down at the tiny male human, optics curious. It was Drake Talent, Zora's friend, who was looking pale, and sick, a ghastly green color. He still carried a slight limp, but not as badly as before.
"H-hey….um…you're a robot, like him…." the male said, glancing at Ratchet and stumbling over each word.
"The correct term would be 'Cybertronian'," Optimus said, not one ounce of venom in his deep voice. However, the human cringed, as if hearing his voice pained him.
"S-sorry. I was just wondering, is Zora going to be all right?" The boy asked, peering up at Optimus.
"Yes," Prime said. "You are her friend, I presume?"
"Y-yeah. And you're a giant ro- I mean Cybertronian. The government has kept you guys hidden for this long?" Drake's eyes were wide, and for a second, they held anger and disbelief. Then, they softened as he glanced at Zora. "I mean, lives are at stake, man. They could have told us sooner."
"Humanity is not yet ready to know of our presence here on Earth," Optimus knelt down, offering Drake a gigantic hand. Drake stared at it, unsure, fearful. Then, slowly, ever so slowly, he slid onto it, sitting and clutching onto one metal thumb. Prime settled back into a sitting position, the fragile human sitting in the palm of his hand.
"Please don't drop me…." Drake breathed. Optimus chuckled, the sound echoing off the walls. Ratchet twisted his head to glimpse at the duo, before going back to his work. Not wanting to disturb the medic with further conversation, Optimus stood, Drake still in his palm, and walked out of the med bay.
The base wasn't as full as usual, most of the soldiers having gone to town or still residing at Diego Garcia. Optimus was thankful, since he didn't have to worry about stepping on any humans. It was something that still haunted him, especially after seeing how the Decepticons held no respect or reverence towards the flesh creatures. He had seen them be stepped on one too many times.
He liked the base, it being so close to town that his won soldiers could take time off, and he liked the fact that it was so close to the beach. He only wished that Sam and Mikaela were here. They were two of his closest human allies( minus Lennox and Epps) who understood the Autobots for who they were. He only hoped that Drake and Zora would turn out like them. Although, that might have been to much to ask, considering the fact that there were a fair number of humans who would rather blast the Autobot's into deep space than have them on their planet.
Drake spoke up suddenly, his face a sickly shade of green. Optimus wondered if he enjoyed heights that much. "So, like, the incident in Egypt, it was all a fake? No terrorist?"
"Yes." Optimus would have said more, but he didn't feel like recalling the terrifying events back in Egypt. Too much pain and suffering. Plus, he only remembered fighting The Fallen, and the description Lennox had given him afterwards had lacked details.
"Oh. Well, at least I was right about one thing. You know, Zora didn't believe me when I told her."
"Humans have a tendency of having to see something before they decide if it is real or fake." Optimus pointed out.
"So, do you, like, fight these…Decepti-bots or something?" Drake asked.
"Decepticon's. They are bent on enslaving the human race."
"Ah. Fun, fun," Drake shrugged. "Ah well. I guess…. If they want to enslave the human race, someone has to stop them. I mean, I'd be glad to help or something."
Optimus saw right through the lie. The was his voice quavered at the end was a clear indication that he was bluffing. Optimus did not blame him for being afraid, though.
"Are there more of you? More Autobots, I mean." Drake asked, shifting his position as Optimus turned a corner, making his way towards the hangar. He saw Ironhide, standing, in deep conversation with William Lennox, who stood in front of him. Ironhide's optics shot up to focus on Optimus, before focusing back on the human before him. Arcee and Chromia were in a corner, in their alt modes, probably speaking through internal communications.
As soon as Drake took in the scene, his eyes went wide. Then, he smirked. "Question answered. What is this, an alien funhouse?"
"You could say that." Optimus replied, kneeling down. He began to transform, a simple process that he was used to. He was also used to the look on the human's face as he transformed. Awe.
Drake gulped, hands sweaty. "So, you turn into cars, too?"
"There are many things our species can do. However, there are many things our species and yours have in common. Some just choose to ignore it the truth."
"Yeah. I've heard that end part often. Just….not coming from a thirty-foot, metal alien."
Zora Parker was dead, and nobody seemed to notice.
Wait. Dead people didn't think. Dead people didn't hear. Dead people didn't dream, and Zora knew for sure that she was dreaming.
She was in space. That's right, the place where little kids always wanted to go. A barren, cold place with stars so close that it seemed you could reach out and grab them.
Reach for the stars. Huh, Zora now understood the phrase.
Zora couldn't pull herself together. Literally. She felt herself torn apart, cells, molecules, nerves, atom's, all split apart and spread out over the universe. She could see clearly, but she couldn't move. Couldn't do anything as a voice spoke in her mind, clear, audible and defined though Zora's confusion.
We are watching you.
The voice lingered in Zora's subconscious mind, and she found it quite irritating. She wanted to see the owner of the voice, see its face, speak to it. The owner did not present itself, and Zora feared she would have to find it. Make it a game of hide and find-the-mysterious-voice. Zora tried twisting her head, realizing that she couldn't move. She wished her body wasn't split apart, atom by atom. That would make the task a whole lot easier.
Do not fear, child.
That same damn voice! Zora seethed quietly to herself. She wondered if she could speak in a dream and actually have control over what came out of her mouth. She decided to experiment.
"Who the hell is there?" Zora shouted, surprised when her voice came out recognizable.
You will find out in time, Zora Parker. Be patient.
Then, pain. Excruciating pain. Pain so bad that every atom burned. If she had been in her regular body, she would have been writhing in agony. In her split body, she could only scream, scream, and scream some more. Zora felt her body coming back together, unable to do anything about the pain, unable to control her own fate. Sort of like life.
Because in life, you didn't choose your own fate. It chose you.
What have I gotten myself into now? She though, before blackness filled her vision.
