Chapter 7: "Critical Recovery"

Disclaimer: Hasbro and Takara-Tomy own The Transformers, m'kay? I just hijack them for fun.

Warnings: Later we're taking a step into Marci's past. Tearjerkers and implied deaths.


To the casual observer, a red and blue Peterbilt driving down a dusty back road raised no suspicion, neither did the monstrous black truck shadowing it. If anyone could have seen inside the 18 wheeler's trailer however...
"You know you can put the guns down, femme."
Marci narrowed her brown eyes at one of the two holoforms. The one speaking was dressed semi-casually with a coal black muscle shirt and worn fatigue pants, sporting a massive healed scar over his left eye. His ginger haired companion had a ruddy jacket and a weathered cowboy hat but looked a little younger than the other man. His voice, however, sounded much older. "There really isn't a need for violence."
Marci's flat look never wavered. They'd loaded her cruiser in first and the Praxians in right behind her. Then the fake people appeared. She was feeling caged so she did what came naturally; defend. The guns hidden in the doors of the cruiser did a very good job at that. "Maybe from your view, but I've got two civilians and one is sick. I need your help."
"Bumblebee's friend's frame has been inundated with some form of metal and he gave her energon." Prowl added. Said scout tried to hide himself with little success, especially with Prowl pinning him down for repairs.

Optimus' holoform peered at the curious male popping out of the Interceptor's rear window, camcorder in hand. "Hi! Oh cool, you've got that hard light thing!" He climbed out of the car against Marci's protests and started firing off questions for the holoforms.

"Buddy Henderson if you don't get back in this vehicle right now—"

"He's fine with Optimus." She gave the police car an odd look. What was it with these weird names?

The holoform dipped his head, "Forgive me, I am Optimus Prime. Head of the Autobot ship: The Ark. This is my weapons specialist Ironhide, secondary special operations officer Prowl, and field scout Bumblebee." She watched each of them gesture when called, "Marci Peterson, United States Central Investigation NBO Hunter Division."

Bee whined as his circumstantial medic started on his doorwings. "That is what they call Cybertronians here." Prowl supplied, "And she also commanded Bumblebee to be silent."
She sighed, "You can talk now, kid."
"PROWL YOU'RE HURTING ME!"
"It's going to hurt, your previous wounds barely had time to heal. You're the most accident prone new-build I've ever met." His cold tone didn't match his actions. Marci tried hard not to see the deft care those once lethal fingers used in rearranging a tangle of kinked wires. Or the child-like antics the yellow one employed to get away. Wonderful, now the freaky robots were playing mind games.
Meanwhile in the back seat, Kyya had curled up into a tight ball on her side. Hurling only made the numbness worse and every five minutes a pain radiated from her bones that made death seem like a better option. Light and sound all blurred together turning a throbbing headache into a piercing migraine, making the dark seats her new friends. Every second was an eternity she would have rather spent passed out. To make matters worse, now someone was touching her.

Marci shook her arm, "Come on, get up. You can't go to sleep." Kyya snatched her limb free and buried her face further into the seats, "Stop."
"I will not repeat myself. Now what hurts?"

"My body's trying to kill itself," she rolled over stiffly, "Leave me alone."

She sighed, settling her against the passenger door, "At least sit up."

Kyya jerked away, muscles seizing, "Why didn't you ever tell me there was something wrong with me?!"

"Because it wasn't important."

"I kinda think it is. And you're not even a cop, you've been moonlighting with your old ARMY buddies!"

"Don't go there."

"Out of town my foot, this was all Michaels idea wasn't it? The guy is a creep! He just wants to get—"
"You don't know the half of it," Marci hissed through gritted teeth, "You want the truth? The same type of psycho robot that just tried to kill you is what tore your parents to shreds. Try explaining that to a three-year-old. The truth is: I work for some evil people and I've been busting my tail trying to make sure they don't come after either of us again so excuse me if I'm not exactly upfront about my job. I'm not the one who brought a frigging alien into the house AND STOLE MY RIFLE! What were you thinking?"

Kyya shrank backwards, stumbling over her words, "He was hurt and all alone...I just wanted to help."
"There are somethings you don't help, especially these freaks!" Marci winced at her own harsh words, noting the lime green light peeking from under her daughter's jacket. As a matter of fact, it was creeping all over her body now even into her eyes. It was confirmation of what she knew all along.

"Look I'm s-" But Kyya had already stumbled out of the car and was heading over to the Praxians. The woman banged her head on the front headrest, face reddening. All these years she'd never yelled and now the one instance it did happen it was at the worst time ever. She bit back tears only to catch Ironhide's projection watching her with an empathetic expression, "What are you looking at?"

Kyra curled in on herself at Bee's ped before her scooped her up in a cupped servo. "Everything hurts." He barely heard her whimper and he gave Prowl a desperate gaze.

:: It looks like she's going into stasis, everything in her body is shutting down. :: He laid her in the basin of where his neck cabling met his armor.

:: Bumblebee…a complete shutdown of vitals in humans means offlining. ::

The scout stiffened and jostling his friend awake, "Hey you wanna hear a joke? Two 'formers are walking down the street and one turns into a wall—"

"Not this one," she slurred, "It wasn't funny the first eight times."

Behind him, Prowl was on edge, :: The nano we get to the Ark, get her to Ratchet. Send him what you know. ::
~o~o~o~o~o~

Ratchet had seen all sorts of craziness in his many vorns but this one took the proverbial oil cake for being the oddest. Bumblebee had practically stormed his med bay holding three humans. "Hey Ratch!"

"Set them here."

The taller of the trio helped one stand while the other seemed to be excited about something. The medic got down to their level, "I'm assuming this is the patient?"

"Yeah, you mind helping us out here?" Marci bit out, "We're losing her."

Ratchet produced a handheld scanner and singled out the little female who shivered at the rippling light. White and red plating flared in a Cybertronian version of a curious snort and he passed a scanner over Kyya again. "Well I can say with absolute certainty you're a first in medical history. I've never seen anything like it." The teenager squeaked as he put out a harder scan. "Judging from Bumblebee's scans you never had DNA to begin with. Yours has always been a combination. In fact, it looks like the metallic content has increased in the last year, previously it seems it was undetectable."

Kyya's eyes widened as Marci confirmed it, "Her parents and I were in some type of explosion. It wasn't lethal, starting at zero we were the third group out of four that got hit. Everyone before us went unconscious. Kyya's got the same symptoms as a Zone 1, minus the glowing." She offered herself up for a scan, the results of which made Ratchet frown, "This is core metal from Cybertron."
"I TOLD you." Bumblebee jeered from beside the human's berth.

"This is similar to a type of ore used for making replacement parts... It's virtually nonexistent now... This type was next to rare and only found in tiny quantities, never this much. "Both adults shared a sharp look that was universal.

"Bumblebee, take Buddy out of here."
Now scout became desperate for any excuse to stay, "I'm still messed up, why are you kicking me out?"

"Because I'm going to have to take my clothes off and this is awkward enough already!" Kyya screeched.

That sent them out in a hurry.

She hung her head, tough visage rapidly failing along with her legs. She sat down hard, body thunking to the metal, "I'm going to die, right?"
"If the metal continues to bond with your body at the same rate it will run out of nutrients and you will slip into a coma. At best you'll be in a state of suspended animation..." He watched her eyes pool with tears, "Its stasis, not death; you did ask, youngling."

Ratchet turned back to Marci, "Is that what happened to your fellows?"
"I-I dont know. They separated and quarantined us, we never saw the first two groups again and they probably would have experimented on us more if we hadn't been useful."
"In seeking out our kind."
"Exactly. Zone 3s don't have it. USCIV still wants her because she's the combination of two Zone 2s. They know something is different about her, they just haven't had a chance to prove it." The brunette tensed at all the information she'd given out with barely any prompting but there wasn't any going back now. She wouldn't give them the chance to hurt her.

Marci draped an arm around her daughter, "What are our options?" Ratchet frowned, "She'll be unconscious in less than an hour, adrenaline has only made it worse." He turned to Kyya next, "You have a say in how it's treated as well, you're of age."

She balked at the huge mech. Bumblebee hadn't been lying, Ratchet was at least eight feet taller and much sturdier looking. It was obvious he was some sort of medical personnel from his markings and he had the same type of crest Prowl did, only wider. His inner optic workings gave him a critical stare but at the moment she liked him better than the fluid spattered police car. "Quickly, youngling."
"Oh, um, what do you have?"
"I can give you a prefatory shot of energon. It is a medical type so it has nutrients you're going to need." The injection tube looked miniscule in his digits. "This will stave it off for a little while longer but eventually you will have to go into stasis. I can't guarantee you'll wake up without the second option. That is: immersion in Cryogenic regeneration chamber. It's set up for Cybertronians, in your state you should be fine, but we'd have to test it." Kyya blinked, "Okay." Her aunt looked at her solemnly and she matched her gaze. "If it's okay with you I'll do it."
Marci nodded and Ratchet's pointer digit broke into pieces, rearranging itself into a tiny needle, "I'll need your arm." Kyya watched the dark blue liquid disappear into the vein he'd pinpointed. Surprisingly, it didn't hurt, in fact, she felt a lot better. The etchings around the injection site burned brighter, "You have any more?"
"No."
"Please?"

He gave her a hard stare, "Do you want energon poisoning? You've been in this form too long, a drastic change could end you."
"Well ask Bumblebee if he has anymore Jell-O treats, I'm hungry."

The medic growled, "I'm going to throttle that mech...I specifically told him not to eat organic products!" Marci shrugged with what little good humor she had left, "Kids."
"They should all be contained." He grumbled.
She watched him go further into the med bay finally trading her steely gaze for a forced smirk.
Marci nestled beside her, "You always did like that stuff. Mrs. Yamato was right about the taste never fading."

Kyya had her eyes shut, "Who else knows?"
"She and myself and maybe some robot kaiju."
"Auntie, that's not funny..."
"I'm not joking." she said with a deathly serious tone, "Something else knows about you and it's not the Autobots." The teenager slumped, "I'm a cyborg freak..."
"Look at me. You are not a freak. You're your parent's daughter. Rey was bat crap crazy and Sean was too curious for his own good. They both probably would have done the same thing for Yellowjacket."
"Bumblebee."
"Same difference. Now I don't approve of what you did—at all—and you're grounded when this is all over, but from what Bud said I can understand why you did it. Both reasons." Kyya tapped her leg, "I'm sorry I yelled."
"I'm sorry I yelled louder." Silence lapsed until Marci raised an eyebrow, "Just out of curiosity what did he look like when he grabbed you?"
"A bloody mess with blonde hair."
"And everything matched his car form?"
"Yup."
"Man these guys are weird. And clever. Prowl was disguised as a cop." Kyya made a face, "I don't like him." She ruffled her braids, "He's just doing his job. Carnage is a part of life; you'll get used to it."
"Never."

Marci stretched, "Well you're plenty enough like them. I was the bloodthirsty one of our team and they were the reasoning." Marci wore a fragile smile, "I also know your dad had a thing for blondes before he met your mother..."
"Eww."
"Either way, at least you finally made some friends, one's a walking banana colored weapons factory but you have to start somewhere." Marci watched her roll her eyes even as she cradled one arm. The green markings were now covering every part of her body but her face. She took one hand, "It's okay to be scared." Kyya scrambled into her arms, "I know..."
"I am too, but I'll promise you this: I'll be waiting right here when you wake up and when you do we'll have a long talk." The teen felt warm, wet splotches land on her head, "Okay."
Somewhere in the depths of the med bay Ratchet dropped something and grumbled before making his way back to the main room. "I need you slip this over your mouth and olfactory." Kyya took something similar to a plastic mask from him. Inside a thin solution sloshed around. "You can breathe in this, right?"
"It is oxygenated."
"It smells like electricity."
"Stop stalling." She winced and fastened it in place, holding her breath, jolting when she finally ran out of air. Marci kept a firm grip on her, "Ratchet-"
"Give it a moment." It molded to her face and she grabbed her aunt's sleeve. "Are you okay?" Kyya looked around and nodded, attempting to pull it off.

"Let it stay." Ratchet scolded, allowing them both to climb into his palm before scanning yet again. "It took, we're moving to step two."
Far in a back room, the CR chamber itself was just what it sounded like: a cylindrical tube, filled to the brim with the same liquid she'd inhaled and it was huge. Kyya dug her fingers into Ratchet's armor seams.

"It's going to be fine." He got on a raised platform and eased them to the top of the chamber, handing a sensor disk to Marci, "Place this over her heart, it'll give a clearer reading than scanning. Okay, youngling, when you get inside I want you to count back from ten." She slipped into the fluid, clinging to the edge of the black metal. Already she could feel it seeping into her skin, counteracting whatever had infected her. Marci squeezed her hand, "I'll be right here."
Kyya nodded and let go. Underneath the fluid, it was blurry and a lot harder to stay awake. The mask slipped off and she inhaled shakily, 'One, two, three...f-four...fi-' Her body quickly went slack and Marci broke down.

~o~o~o~o~o~

Nearly an hour later, Ratchet felt pretty useless just patting the human's tiny head. At his old clinic it was easy enough to dismiss their hysteria as unnecessary but he could justify her reaction completely. He missed the days when the worst sparkling case he ran up on was the little one swallowing part of a toy.

"Thirteen years and our cover gets blown because they just happened to be walking down the same street. How is that even possible?"

"Bumblebee's guardian was a scientist—I would say mad but that's up for debate. Anyway we found out he'd outfitted him with a weapons system and some experimental project when he was a sparkling. It's a called a Pretender suit, He can mimic next to anything for a period of time, the only drawback is it drains him severely. I hate to say it but that was the smartest thing that mech could have done. What's interesting though, is how similar Kyya's body seems to be to Bee's suit. Did you ever notice anything odd about her development?"

Marci shook her head, "Nothing. She never caught any colds, no allergies... There was this one time a scorpion stung her. That dog brought her into the house barely breathing with the thing still attached and she woke up five minutes later. And—she never got her time-of-the-month... I lost mine after the blast, every female did. Figured it was some radiation hoodoo or something. That's why I was so surprised when Rey had her..."

"Marci, that's not possible," Ratchet hesitated, "If I'm correct the only thing human about Kyya is her appearance. There's not a trace of organic material anywhere in her."

"What?! Why didn't you—"

"The last thing I need is a patient having an existential crisis after just finding out she's not what she seems."

"How?"

"I should be asking you. You are technoorganic: partially Cybertronian, partially human. Kyya is a case apart— it's much like Bumblebee's way of disguising himself. The difference in hers is that it looks like it was designed to give an extended human appearance both inside and out. But beyond skin, at her core, she's Cybertronian. I can get nothing conclusive after that."

Marci sighed, "At least will she be alright?"

"So long as nothing is disturbed, yes. It would help if I knew more of both of your backgrounds though…"

Marci watched her daughter's limp form floating still in the tube, "How long do you have?"

"As long as it takes to talk things out."

~o~o~o~o~o~

The first time Marci met the Pierces in a remote town that had become a battlefield. Several NBOs had found their way near it, the last of which was circling a building and the Pierces were stupidly trying to take it out unassisted. They reminded her of two foxes trying to fend off a grizzly in that one of them was probably going to get eaten sooner or later. The taller soldier she recognized as Sean peppered the thing's hindquarters with sabots while Rey antagonized his front, then they'd trade. And Rey was keeping up a one-sided conversation with the beast. It snapped about a foot from her rifle and she sprang back, "Too slow! Aw. Maybe next time. Hey you might want to get that dental problem checked out!"

On top of that every few minutes Sean would take pictures.

They were going to die. And she yelled so. When all three of them paused she spotted another human running across the street.

They'd been distracting it to help people get away...

The NBO came charging at her but didn't get very far as Sean promptly shot it in the back of the head, killing it. "How many points is a headshot worth?"

"Nine." His wife called back and he carved a notch onto his rifle, "Gotcha. C'mon, new lady, let's go help the civilians."

Marci though they were both crazy but it seemed they were pretty respectable soldiers—while being watched. They were fifth generation USCIV soldiers, everyone of their family members had served and she had to admit, she was intimidated. But Rey was nice and out-going if a bit loud, Sean was quiet type, and somehow they pulled her antisocial personality into their circle. What followed was a series of misadventures and near death experiences she wouldn't soon forget. Paramount was The New Zealand Incident.

They along with most of USCIV's ground soldiers had been excavating some odd machinery when an explosion went off. It happened in waves of pressure and shimmering light, too fast to escape. Zone 0 had been ground zero, point blank exposure; Zone 1, severe exposure; Zone 2, slight exposure; Zone 3, drift exposure. People found in Zone 0 were found unconscious, the people in 1 were conscious later dropping into the former. Men in white biohazard suits had come and taken them away and neither group was ever heard from again.

Back at USCIV's headquarters # 3 survivors were monitored uncomfortably close for weeks. Marci and the Pierces had been in Zone 2 and after hearing rumors of disappearances resolved to stick together. Strange things were happening, like Marci being able to detect everyone else in the quarantine or Sean's aversion to anything that had been in contact with an NBO. Still, the group hid their reactions. Those that didn't were taken away.

Then after the Zone 3s were released with a clean bill of health, things began to look even more bleak. They were being treated more like the creatures they hunted than the people they were. Yet all of a sudden, they were given new orders and assigned a new unit: NBO Hunters.

She quickly earned the name Mercenary or "Merc" for her raging hate for the creatures that had taken away so many of their first unit and the Pierces backed her wholeheartedly. In five short years they had tallied the most kills as the NBO raids increased in number and frequency and they reveled in it. In Marci's eyes things couldn't be better, she felt some small victory every time one of the screaming metal titans fell.

And then one night Sean was out on patrol, Rey wandered into her tent, dark hair slick with sweat and fatigue pants stained with blood. "I think…I need a medic." By morning, she was a mother, but no one was more stunned than Marci. She couldn't bring herself to go into that med tent, not after passing out after bringing the dark haired woman there. So she sat in the sand outside and glared at nothing. Later, she'd realize she couldn't bring herself to admit what this meant for their team.

Then Sean had come, gone in, and come back out again after a while with a stern look on his face, "You're gonna go in there and you're gonna like it. Rey's waiting." She didn't have a chance to protest as she got dragged in by her shirt collar.

Marci hated kids, they knew that.

She'd said it several times but Rey looked bushed and she loathed to make her lose any more energy in an argument. So she took the bundle of army blanket and pretended her flesh wasn't crawling. It-it wasn't that bad, holding a kid. She was kind of cute. "What'd you name her?"

"Kyra." Marci didn't take eyes off her though, poor thing was so pink and helpless. She adjusted her hold on her and pulled her closer, subconsciously flaring that resonance she had—and the little one responded. The brunette froze and cast a long, hard look at both parents. Rey had no trace of tiredness and Sean barred the tent flap with folded arms. The message was transparent: this matter stayed here. Marci nodded seemingly at nothing. No one was going take her away. She'd protect her as well, even in the absence of her parents.

That day came sooner than expected. Two days later, a surprise attack threw the whole camp into chaos. It couldn't have been more perfect, nearly all the Zone 2s were there. Bodies laid strewn across the camp as the trio made a break for it. There was an underground shelter nearby and they aimed to make it. Somehow though, a dead soldier's rifle discharged, grazing one of Marci's legs. She'd pitched forward but Sean yanked her back up, dragging her the rest of the way. Then she found herself in the dark, Rey probing her leg with the newborn swaddled inside her body armored fatigues. The round had seriously burned the flesh and the force shattered the bone beneath. Marci couldn't go anywhere.

Then there had been an inhuman scream outside and a volley of shots. Rey's eyes seemed to glaze over with determination as the titan drew closer and Sean's gunfire increased, "Marci, remember our little keep-away game?" The brunette looked up just in time to see the dark skinned woman pull Kyra from her vest and place a kiss on her forehead. "Rey, no." she stumbled even as the baby was pressed into her arms. "Keep it going for me, okay?" And then she was gone.

The screams finally halted along with sounds from the main fight sometime later, but neither Rey nor Sean ever came back. Whatever resonance they'd once given off was long gone from her detection, replaced with an icy pain. Kyra must have felt it too because she attempted to cry. She shushed her and flared signal, comforting her and enveloping the little one's frail signature. That instinctive decision effectively hid them from the NBOs that prowled above.

Marci didn't know how long she sat rocking herself and Kyra, but they were found by a rescue team. The next few days were a cocktail of excruciating pain, delirium, and nightmares. On top of that, someone was always trying to take the newborn from her. After Marci's yelling/swearing fit and Kyra's screaming following the first attempt they stopped trying to separate the pair.

When she was finally coherent enough to care for both of them unaided, a debriefing agent had come in. Marci knew they'd run test after test while she was bleary but they'd apparently wanted to hear it from her. So as the sole survivor of Delta Base she told their story…and fantastic lies about what she wanted to keep quiet.

To keep Kyra, she stuffed down the horror of what she'd seen and somehow held it together long enough for psychologist to give her a clean bill of health. But even then it wasn't over. They wanted her to travel back to the states and they would "work out" her adoption of Kyra from there.

Marci knew better, the second she got off the plane they'd go back on their promise. The five-month old didn't have any public birth certification especially after being born in an undisclosed area, so outside of USCIV she didn't exist. To make matters worse the Pierces had no living relatives for the same reason her two friends were dead now.

In the airport she'd been brought to, the young woman fidgeted between her two "companions", burly muscle in plainclothes sent to make sure she got on the right plane. If they were going to stay together she needed to make a move now.

Marci walked off, pulling her irritatingly light suitcase behind her.

"Peterson."

"I'm going to the ladies' room, Kyra needs a change," she turned around with a glare, "Unless you two want to invade that privacy too." They let her be, but still waited outside. Marci hadn't been lying. She went through the routine that had become so familiar to her and casually struck up a conversation with another mother. With two kids milling around and a third on the changing table it was hard to keep an eye on things. Namely her cell phone, which Marci stole and immediately rang a friend.

"Eric!"

She could practically here the wince in his voice after her hushed 'whisper', "Wha—MARCI? I you're supposed to heading here in a few hours…what time is it?"

"Are you near a computer? I need a hack job."

"Only verbal communication in months after I get word your whole team died and you yell at me!" there was a crashing sound on the line. "Oh and call your folks. Do you KNOW how much I hate talking to your dad? They think you've snapped or something since you don't write."

"I might have. I've got a kid."

"…" silence rang out on the other end, "Who's the dad?"

"She's not mine, her parents got shot and the ARMY wants to her to be adopted by someone else."

He let out a sigh of relief, "Who are the parents?"

"The Pierces." She held the phone away from her ear after a yell, "You mean those kamikaze psychos had a kid?!"

"They weren't psychos and her mother's last request was for me to watch her. Now Eric, are you tracing this call?"

"Yeah."

"Good, hack this airport's boards and get me on a plane to anywhere but the Americas." She could hear him already clacking away, "We're going to jail…"

"Only if we get caught." Eric groaned, "There. You're going to Australia. That's out of the way enough." He paused, "I hope you know what you're doing, for both your sakes."

"Me too. Thank you Eric, I owe you one."

"Dinner and a movie would be nice."

"What?"

"Nothing! Bye!"

What she didn't know was that somehow the files rearranged after Eric's hacking, sending her not to "The Land Down Under" but to "The Land of the Rising Sun".

When she got off the plane in Tokyo, Marci swore she was going to kill him if she ever got back to the US. She had no grasp of Japanese, no money, or baby supplies besides what she'd lifted or had been given, and now it was raining. They were in trouble.

And just like that an older Japanese woman in a yellow rain slicker approached her. She had an umbrella, an excellent grasp of English, a place to stay, and Marci's acceptance. On the way back to her hometown she'd told her it was a miracle they'd run into each other. The woman, Mrs. Yamoto, had smiled. "No, it was the kaiju, my dear."

Marci didn't have a clue what that meant but she was more than willing to go along with anything right now. Where she lived in was an isolated port town further to the north, Gētou~ei. Mrs. Y was widowed and her children had moved off so she had more than enough room and Marci found herself moving in with a woman she'd never met before. One that seemed oddly comfortable with it as well…

Now that they were safe her attentions turned back to Kyra. Kids typically cried a lot, right? That was what had kept her up throughout her recovery, but lately she hadn't been crying at all. Kyra would whine, but she acted like she was too tired to cry. The 'medics' didn't know what was wrong and allowed her to be released, if only just to get rid of her guardian. As the days wore on with less and less response from the infant, Marci was beginning to think she should have let them take Kyra. She couldn't handle losing three people.

Then one day Kyra did a complete 360. She was more vocal, babbling, and trying to move around more. Marci thought it had happened on its own until she walked in on Mrs. Yamato feeding her. She recognized that blue stuff anywhere. Oh, she'd been so upset with the poor woman to the point where she started yelling but Mrs. Y hadn't gotten mad. She'd just smiled. "Sit down, love."

Marci had sat.

"I know you are a soldier who hunts bad kaiju, not a young mother on the run. You may know the evil they're capable of, but you don't know the good. There are things that we are not meant to understand…and sometimes these things want to understand us. These braided kaiju have come here for many hundreds of years and they have always protected this town along with people in it. Apparently, one of them likes you. It's no mistake you're here." She'd nodded over at Kyra playing on the floor, "My brother was like her, 2 Shurui. He needed their food for a time. I do not know how it comes to be but she may have it only for a year. After that you must stop."

Marci gaped, "Wh—"

"Your eyes will turn colors."

"Kyra's mother…said she saw a blue one with horns. It was short."

"One of their little friends, also friendly."

Marci didn't question anything else after that. If some giant robots could attack people, then maybe…some could help? Kyra reached ten months and they had to stop giving her the NBO fuel on account of the strange marking that grew on her left arm. Mrs. Y hadn't seemed concerned even though it was odd.

So life went on. Marci got a job to help out and earn her way to the states. Mrs. Y got a cat. Kyra started talking, walking, and pulling the tabby cat's tail. She and Topples-the-cat became mortal enemies…

She was defiantly starting to see more of Rey in her personality. Kyra was sweet but she could be combative, which was hard when you couldn't properly say your own name. She had issues with the letter R. So her name sounded like Ky-wa. Mrs. Yamato started calling her Kyya instead and it stuck. Eventually they moved out and the next move was to America.

USCIV was there to meet them at the airport.

"Well, well, Marci Peterson…"

She would have sworn but she broke that habit long ago. "Simmons, so nice to see you!" the brunette eyed the two men accompanying him under the guise of airport security. "Michaels, Burke."

"You're about four years late."

"Mmm, well I got sidetracked."

Kyya swung on her hand, "We're going to Utah!"

He'd glared, "Not on my watch, kid. Peterson, you deserted."

Marci kept up her coy routine, "I distinctly remember being given discharge for psychological healing."

"Under the pretense you would come back to America."

"Well, I thought about it but Japan just seemed like a much better option. Zen and all that." The four-year-old tugged her hand, "That's China, auntie."

"Hush, love. Besides I assumed we were free to go."

Simmons glared, "Anything with a freaky resonance is property of USCIV, meaning you two, and we can call you back whenever we like." He made a grab for Kyya and she kicked him in the shin hard enough to bruise. Marci hid a smirk, "Kyra…apologize to the nice man."

"But he's a jerk!" The muscle he'd brought looked as if they were struggling not to laugh.

"That is not a nice word."

"I'm sorry."

The young agent stood from nursing his leg, "Scan her." Michaels pulled out a device that resembled a Geiger-meter, "Come against the wall, kid." Kyya dropped her backpack and reluctantly left Marci, spreading her arms like she'd told her. Just like she'd hoped, they found nothing. Her flare blotted out whatever dim signal the girl might have given off. "Nothing sir." Simmons turned as red as a beet, "WHAT? Do it again."

He did. It failed.

Marci shrugged and scooped her daughter up, "Guess you can't win them all, be seeing you boys." He'd lowed his voice to a hiss, "We WILL be watching you."

"I don't doubt it."

That had been the last they'd seen of USCIV for a while. Marci had picked a spot close to her childhood friend, Eric Tinner, then taken up in the local police force since she'd previous training and Kyya went to school. It was a major, boring shift from military life. Instead of monstrous NBOs and world traveling there were snobby soccer moms, their sadistic spawn, and the never ending car-rider line. Kyya seemed to be fairing a little better, she had friends and seemed happy, but even that came crashing down six years later.

If she was honest, Marci was losing her faith in humanity as well, she encouraged her to make friends but neither of their hearts were in it.

They had each other and that was enough.

Then a few years later USCIV turned up at her door in the form of Michaels.

"Look, I'm sorry about this but we're some of the only Zone 2s left. They want us back." She'd stubbornly refused until he'd pulled out a device with a live feed of Kyya at school. "They're poised to take her right now if you don't. It's either her or you." Michaels was just a grunt, the poor guy, but she went along with it.

As much as she hated to admit it, it felt good to be back in real body armor. Even if she was stuck training a bunch of rookie Zone 3s, even if it took her away from home, even if there had been virtually no attacks after Delta Base. It was what she was meant to do, so she did it.

~o~o~o~o~o~

"All these years, the ducking and dodging, and we get discovered through a wild fluke."

Marci pawed at her chest only to have the medic stop her. "It sounds as if you had a bond with both her and her parents. A frequency connection." The woman looked up thoughtfully, "So that's what that freaky thing was…we thought we were going crazy."

"Due to the levels of metal in your system you were able to pick up on each other's frequencies and grow used to them. In fact, it's almost as if you were beginning the transition to full Cybertronian."

"Anything like that ever happen before in your history?"

"There were rumors…but let's dwell on fact." He dug through his subspace and produced a small holographic cube. Various medical charts surrounded them both and the human wiped at her eyes, "Ratchet, I flunked high-school A&P and that was for humans, I don't think this is going to help."

"I have gone through the same course with Sideswipe and I'm certain you've a higher intelligence. Are you up for a crash course in Cybertronian anatomy? It could take your mind off things."

"Maybe later, I need to think."

He put the cube away, "For what it's worth, I am deeply sorry for your loss. War is a terrible thing, we've been at it for long enough and it cost our home. Cybertron is in ruins and her people are scattered to the stars, permanently. We haven't seen our loved ones or the core group of our faction in what would be close to a thousand years in your time."

"So? It's not like you guys have family—" she trailed off at the medic's grim visage and she thought of the overprotective Charger. Marci glared into space, "Are you KIDDING ME. You guys are alive. Really, ALIVE. Not factory made and programmed…even the Massicons?" He put his servos on his hips, "Yes, no, and to a degree for the Massis. The two children had an easy enough time believing it."

"You are going to drive me to drink; frigging walking, talking, feeling robots."

Marci rubbed her eyes, jumping back when he offed her a huge (for her size) warming blanket. "I should go repair Bumblebee, I'll be right back and then in the front room...is there anything you need?"

"I'll be fine; I just need space."

"Very well."

A voice just loud enough to be heard called back, "Thank you."

"It's no trouble."


Thanks for reading!