Fallout: Apocalypse
Chapter Nine
By Nan00k

Dear Director Keller: I'm sorry. :D Also, Barns, stop being emo. Everyone else is fulfilling the emo quota for the story without your help.

Thanks again, Shantastic!

Also, as a shout out to the one reviewer who left a huge anonymous review, thank you so much for taking the time to write it! :) I appreciate any comments/critique and I do try to reply back as much as I can to questions. Feel free to message me or email me if you have other questions or suggestions. I do have a huge buffer of chapters already written, however, but if you think something is important to add, I'm all ears!

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Warnings: character death, foul language, violence, disturbing imagery and discussion, religious ideological discussions, theoretical science, and original characters

Disclaimer: Transformers © Dreamworks/Hasbro. The original characters found in this story were created explicitly for this story.

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Some things never changed. Even about aliens.

"Hey, it's the Witwicky kid!" Sideswipe crowed the moment Sam walked into Hangar C, Mikaela beside him. "And the hot chick!"

Sam grinned and waved at the red mech, who had been talking with several NEST soldiers he could almost remember the names for. "Hey, guys!" he called back.

Mikaela scowled. "Hello to you, too," she said irritably.

Sideswipe glided up on his wheel-enabled feet and stopped a few feet away. "Aww, I was just messing. Welcome back, you two!" he laughed. Mikaela sighed, but ended up smiling anyway; few could resist Sideswipe's charm after all. The red mech looked over at Bumblebee, curious. "I thought they weren't gonna come by until next week."

"Optimus got Keller to sign off on an early visit," the yellow scout replied simply. He peered down at Sam and Mikaela with smiling optics. "Come on, let's go find Ratchet and Optimus."

The base wasn't that large or complex, which always struck Sam as funny. He'd spent what felt like years of his life listening to Miles Lancaster, his best childhood friend, rant about conspiracy theories, which tended to be elaborate and expensive, with secret underground chambers and filled with alien technology. Sam was sure no alien conspiracy theorist would expect to find a "real" Area-51 like this one, made out of a collection of regular hangars, performing data intelligence work with standard, government issue PCs and scrounging for money all the time. Although he figured the take-over of the national park was somewhat diabolical. He was just glad it was close to where he lived, otherwise meeting Bumblebee even once in a while would be impossible.

They started walking after Bumblebee when two more mechs appeared at the end of the hall. "Hello, Sam, Mikaela," Ratchet said, noticing them before Ironhide did. The giant black Autobot looked more ticked off than usual, however.

"Hey, Ratchet!" Mikaela called back. She smiled over at Ironhide politely. "Hello, Ironhide. How's it going?"

"Like the Pit," Ironhide abruptly snapped. He continued marching past them without a second glance.

Sam balked at the suddenness of the mech's actions. "What the hell is his problem?" he asked, looking back at Ratchet and Sideswipe. Mikaela shrugged, unnerved as well.

"He has never quite mastered the art of being a patient jailer," Ratchet replied dryly. He did nod back at both humans and smiled. "Regardless, welcome back."

Jailer? Sam frowned and wanted to ask what that was supposed to mean, but the question was quickly forgotten when he saw Optimus Prime stepping out of the conference room behind Ironhide and Ratchet.

Sam couldn't help but grin as the Autobot leader approached them, Major William Lennox hanging back to speak with an aide. "Optimus," he greeted, instantly cheerful again.

"Hello, both of you," the giant said, smiling back. He looked more human without his battle mask on. He looked at both teenagers, acknowledging them specifically in a way that most human adults never bothered to do. "It's nice to see you again so soon."

"So soon?" Sam repeated, scoffing. "It's been like three weeks!" Bumblebee blurted out a string of apologetic radio voices and his eye guards drooped guiltily.

Optimus chuckled. "We've been busy. Forgive us, Sam, for keeping Bumblebee away for that long."

Mikaela made a pouting expression that made Sam grin. "I bet you just forgot about us," she complained, teasing. Bumblebee laughed.

"We'd never forget about you, Mikaela," Optimus replied, shaking his head with a smile of his own. He looked to his right and nodded at the medic standing there. "Ratchet, I believe you wanted time to meet with Mikaela?"

"Yes," the medic replied. He sighed and gave Mikaela a look one normally reserved for mundane household chores, though Sam knew the mech was actually pleased to see them. "You were serious about learning how to treat mechs?"

Mikaela grinned. "Yes!" she exclaimed. She took her bag from Sam's hands, her grin morphing into something apologetic. "Sorry, Sam, I'll be back soon."

Sam sighed as he watched his girlfriend jog after Ratchet, clearly excited. Any chance to help the mechs out was a good thing, though; if Sam was going to work on getting into NEST, he had to let Mikaela grab her chances too. Even if she got in faster or easier, he thought glumly.

"Soon! It takes vorns for a medic to learn how to properly care for a patient!" Ratchet exclaimed as they walked away, probably to the room he had taken over as a med-bay.

"Yeah, well, I've only got one, Ratchet, so you'd best get a move on …" Mikaela shot back.

Sam frowned as they disappeared into the maze of container units, computers and other miscellaneous NEST property that littered the hangar bay behind them. Someday, he thought.

"Heya, Sam," Lennox said as he strode up, breaking into his thoughts. He shook Sam's hand firmly, smiling and just as friendly as always. "Good to see ya."

"Yeah, you too," Sam replied. Smiling, he tucked his hands into his jeans, surveying the two figures in front of him and Bumblebee next to him. They were alone, so he figured it was okay to talk about it. "So, ah, what's been keeping you busy? The new mechs?"

Instantly, the hallway seemed to grow quiet… tense… and cold. Very cold. Sam blinked and glanced back up at Optimus, wary. Lennox looked like he was about to start cursing and Optimus just looked… well, kind of pissed.

Next to Sam, Bumblebee suddenly shrank back wards.

"…Bumblebee," Optimus began gravely, optics narrowed dangerously.

Sam felt a gasp strangle in his throat. "Oh, shit, wait, was I not supposed to know about that? You said there were other classified things you couldn't tell me, not that!" he cried. He was more alarmed when the glares shifted to Bumblebee, who whined and tried to sink down farther in on himself. Sam jumped forward, waving his hands quickly to get the attention back on himself. "Wait, wait, it's my fault, I pried. Only me and 'Kaela heard, I swear!"

Lennox, thankfully, turned his glare back on him. "How much do you know?" he demanded. He sounded more frustrated than actually angry, however.

"Just that there are new mechs!" Sam exclaimed. He quickly tried to think of a way to cover for their mutual screw-up. "A-and it's not like that's such a secret anyway, I saw one of them over by the other hangar door."

That didn't exactly help. "Jesus Christ…" Lennox groaned, slapping a hand over his face. He looked around and then fixed the teenager with a weary look. "Sam…"

"I don't know anything else!" Sam said, defensive. That was true. He only knew there were new mechs. Well, some of them were ex-Cons, but he didn't think what they were would really matter in the long run.

Bumblebee nodded, reluctant. "It's true. I only told him there were new mechs. It's my fault," he said, accepting the blame without complaint, because he was Bumblebee and he did things like that.

"No, I pressured you," Sam insisted. He saw Optimus and Lennox exchange incredulous looks and glared back at them. "I could totally pressure him into telling me if I wanted to. Obviously. And I did! You know 'Bee would never have said anything otherwise."

Optimus sighed heavily and pinched the bridge of his nose-like thing. Sam doubted it was an actual nose. "You're not in trouble, Sam," the Autobot leader said, looking down at the teenager. "I trust you."

"I do too, but Sam, you have to be careful," Lennox added, sounding exasperated. "This stuff is serious."

"I know, Will. I know," Sam replied, feeling meek. Man, did he ever know how to screw things up. "As far as I know, no one else knows. And neither of us will say word to anyone else. I promise!"

If he could keep a secret about his car being alive for over two years, he could definitely keep this a secret. Sam knew they couldn't tell him everything, but what little they could was safe with him.

Optimus and Bumblebee definitely exchanged words electronically, because Bumblebee looked increasingly cowed, but after a moment, Optimus looked back down at Sam.

"Sam, walk with me," he said, turning, leaving little room for Sam to do otherwise. Not that he would refuse to walk with the Autobot leader, anyway.

"Bee's not in trouble, is he?" Sam asked desperately as they walked away from the command room and headed for the outside. At least the Autobots could walk around the base, sort of, without fear of being spotted.

"Of course not," Optimus said. He now, thankfully, seemed more pleasant than he was before. Sam had to jog to keep up with him, even though he was sure the Autobot was practically walking in slow-motion for the human. "I was going to speak with you about the matter myself, although perhaps not so soon."

Sam winced. "Sorry." He sincerely hoped Lennox wouldn't make a big deal out of it; he didn't like the idea of pissing off a potential future employer.

Optimus chuckled. "It's alright, Sam. No harm was done," he said, denying the seriousness of it. "We can discuss it later. For now, Bumblebee informed me that you wanted to speak with me about something specific today?"

They passed some more soldiers and Sam stumbled mentally as they left the hangar. "Yeah. Uh, yeah," he managed to say. He felt awkward just coming out and asking Optimus for a request after screwing that all up moments ago. "I mean, um, it's kind of a request, so I understand if you say no."

"What is it, Sam?" Optimus prompted gently, looking down at him. Infinite patience, that one.

Sam took a deep breath. "Well… I want to help. With you guys. NEST. The whole works," he said. "A-and I know it'll be a while, Simmons gave me the whole run-down on how I have no experience and how ridiculous it is for me to think I can work with you guys officially right now. Lennox probably had to sell his kid to get me in here as it is."

To Sam's surprise, Optimus scowled. "That I don't think I'll ever understand. You are not a security risk, Sam," he said, shaking his head. "I would have you given unrestricted access to this compound if I had my say."

Well, that made him feel a million times better, actually. "I know you would. Heck, you're the only reason I bet 'Bee is allowed off grounds so much," Sam replied, smiling.

"You and he both deserve time together," Optimus replied. "You work well with one another and have saved each other's lives several times. You saved my life, Sam."

Sam almost tripped over empty air. "N-no, no, it's fine," he stammered. "I didn't do much." In fact, he really couldn't figure out where he had saved anybody. He just did whatever he'd had to do, even during Mission City—

"You killed our greatest nemesis. My greatest nemesis, Sam," Optimus began, slowing down to a stop. He peered down at the human, smiling in amusement. "You saved your planet and all of us. You did much. More than you realize, and more than your government will recognize."

Mikaela and his mother had called him a hero and his father had told him he had "done them proud," but Sam had never really thought about it. He just did what had to be done, as always. He might have done some things out of the norm, like killing Megatron, but… sometimes it was difficult to fathom how large of an impact that'd actually had on the world.

It him feel very, very small sometimes.

"…I guess…" he murmured, shoving his hands into his pockets again to keep from fidgeting like an idiot.

Optimus stood up straighter, gleaming red and blue in front of the container unit they had stopped next to. "I understand your frustration of wanting to help," the Autobot leader said. "You remind me of a mech I have heard much about from Prowl," he said abruptly, surprising Sam. "This mech, he is with the new group you have not seen yet."

Sam blinked. "Oh…"

"He was a survivor of a genocidal attempt Megatron made against one of our strongest city-states, Praxus," Optimus continued, expression and voice growing graver as he went along. "Most of the population there was wiped out, save a few lucky mechs, such as Prowl and Bluestreak." The last name was unfamiliar, so he must have been one of the new guys. "I was in Iacon at the time, but I have learned from Ratchet that although he was very young, Bluestreak demanded that he be admitted into the Autobot ranks to avenge his people."

"I don't want vengeance… just…" Sam began, unable to voice his intentions. He didn't really know how else to say them, in fact. "I want to help."

He just wanted to be there, because no matter what he did, this was part of his life from now on. He could have gone to school for business or anything at all, but he would still have had a talking car. He would still have nightmares about Decepticons crashing down overhead. No matter what he did, he would still be Sam Witwicky. That mattered more than anything, he figured.

"A common plea for soldiers like yourself and Bluestreak," Optimus stated, optics bright. He smiled in a way that could soothe any kind of internal drama. "It is not a plea of the useless. It is a plea that I have heard from some of my most brilliant and dedicated soldiers."

Sam ran a hand through his hair, suddenly unsure of what he was thinking or saying. "I want to go to school to learn something that will be useful, so that I can work for NEST. I…" he started, failing. "I wanted to see if you'd, you know, sign off on the idea. Like, once I graduate and have a résumé to hand in to whoever, I guess Keller, maybe…" He laughed awkwardly and gave the mech a sheepish grin. "I could use you as a reference?"

To his relief, Optimus laughed as well. It was a kind gesture. "Sam…" he began, shaking his head slowly. "I would be more than happy to support you in your endeavors to join NEST. Working alongside you would be a great honor."

"Really?" Sam exclaimed, heart soaring. He was grinning like an idiot, no doubt, but he didn't care. "Thanks, Optimus! I swear, I won't let you down!"

Optimus started moving again, this time back toward the hangar, letting the human be excited. "I am curious," he began, his questioning tone bringing Sam back down to Earth. "Why do you not enter the United States military? That is another way you could be admitted to NEST."

Sam hesitated and then smiled wanly up at the Autobot. "I asked Lennox about that and he told me not to. Apparently it would take more time to reach the level that NEST soldiers need, get the clearance and rank and experience and all, than if I go the academic route," he said, shrugging. It had been an option for a while, but when he weighed his options, it didn't seem like the better one. "Not to mention that I probably wouldn't even make it past basic training. I'm not really soldier material, you know?"

"There are many types of soldiers, Sam. You are brave and strong, on many levels," Optimus began, sounding both wise and amused again. Sam was jealous of his patience. "Do not think you matter any less than Lennox or myself, even if you aren't part of NEST yet."

"Even Mikaela gets to help out more than I do, with repair work," Sam complained, gesturing back toward the med-bay. "I feel useless."

"You aren't," Optimus replied firmly. "Go to school and do what you must to prove to NEST and the government that you would be able to assist us. Just know one thing, Sam." He gave Sam a reassuring look that meant a lot more than even his words did. "For the Autobots and myself, you have already proven yourself useful. If we had our way, you'd already be here with us."

To hear it from the Autobot leader was outstandingly comforting. "…Thanks, Optimus," he said quietly, meaning it. He could get there; he just needed to be as patient as his friends were.

"It's my pleasure," Optimus replied, amused again. Well, he was until he seemed to remember something else and he stopped walking, forcing Sam to look up at him expectantly. "Also, Sam. Bumblebee mentioned you wanted to meet the new mechs on the base."

Oops. Sam hesitated, not sure if he should say yes or not. "Yeah," he said, awkward. "Well, whenever it would work for you guys, of course. He said some of them were a bit, um, unsafe."

Optimus sighed and shook his head. "They are safe as long as we don't threaten them," he said firmly.

And then, shocking Sam, Optimus hesitated. He looked almost… reluctant. The Autobot peered around them and then slowly knelt down in front of the human. Having that giant face in front of him was even more startling than having to look up two and half stories to talk to him.

"Sam… I may have a job for you now," Optimus began, sounding careful. "One that I think even Simmons and Director Keller would approve of."

That was the last thing Sam had expected to hear that day. "Wh-what?" he exclaimed. He stuttered, adding, "Sure, what can I do?"

The hesitance was back for a brief moment. "There are more than just new mechs, Sam," Optimus replied lowly. His optics almost dimmed as he said, "There are humans."

For the life of him, Sam had no words to say, or think. He stared at Optimus, speechless, the sounds of the base droning on behind them, unheeded.

"…What?" Sam finally managed to ask, mind reeling.

Humans? Humans… with the mechs?

"There are ten survivors, but four of them are humans," Optimus replied, sounding grave again. "We are having difficulties reaching them, diplomatically speaking, so I had the idea that perhaps we are going about it the wrong way, with NEST soldiers being their only liaisons."

Sam peered at the Autobot in shock. "…What do you mean, 'survivors'?" he repeated. For some reason, he felt wary. Very, very wary.

Optimus looked down at him with a severe look that suddenly made the entire area feel ten degrees cooler again.

"We have much to explain," he said. He inclined his head at Sam, optics larger than ever so close to him. "I trust you Sam, so I will tell you the truth. Afterwards, I must ask for your help."

Sam tried to keep up with everything he had just been told, or not told specifically. "But what could I possibly…?" he began, still stunned.

"Let me explain. I'm sure you'll have many questions and I hope I can answer them," Optimus began, standing upright. He looked across the hangar, his gaze distant. "If I can't, I think we may have to introduce you to our guests sooner than expected."

None of this felt like good news. Sam hated bad news, even if he knew he would have to get used to it. Everything felt off about this turn of events, however. He didn't know why, but having humans show up with these other mechs was unnerving. Sam didn't believe in being superstitious, but he couldn't deny the uneasy feel of his gut.

But if Optimus trusted him with something as big as this… he just had to roll with it.

Sam nodded up at the mech, bracing himself. "Alright. I'm listening."

0000

All in all, Barns had to admit, things could have been worse.

Death, of course, was the poorest alternative to their current predicament that he could think of, although sometimes he wasn't entirely convinced they weren't dead and this wasn't some odd form of the afterlife. He hadn't thought he would need to eat in Heaven, but the fresh food that they enjoyed for the first time in… well, ever… was divine. Even if it consisted mostly of ham sandwiches, hot coffee, and canned vegetables with expiration dates that hadn't passed by decades ago.

At the same time, Barns knew that neither he nor any of his companions had slept easily for the last week. They were in an unfamiliar land, perhaps a whole different world all together, and they were surrounded by people they could one-hundred percent guarantee were not their allies and couldn't be fully trusted.

It seemed silly, because Barns knew that the Autobots were good creatures. They had defended Earth until the end, ultimately getting killed off in the same war that had annihilated his own species. The fact that there were human soldiers on the base should have made things easier as well; if this was the past, Barns knew he, they, should trust NEST. They were only trying to protect Earth from future harm, potentially Barns' world's version of it.

But they did not sleep well, the ten survivors, because they themselves were representative of the danger that might come and because of who and what their hosts were. While Barns, Danny, Kass and Rachel might have been exempted from possible permanent incarceration due to their species, that did not mean they would be unharmed or allowed free. Barns had heard from Goddard how desperate military leaders could become under stress. Also, they didn't want to be set free if the mechs were not.

And the mechs' case worried Barns even more than his own well-being. While Jazz was acting as if this were just another camp and another step toward survival, he was just as nervous, probably thinking the same thing Barns was. While the ten all knew that Wildrider, Vortex and Thundercracker were as harmless as any one else in their group (politically neutral when left alone, dangerous when threatened), NEST did not believe it. The human commanders, Lennox and Keller, had said they would deal with the mechs as they would any other political refugees, and those two had been fair in their dealings with his family. But Barns couldn't hide a twinge of fear every time he saw another NEST soldier look their way, judging and waiting.

"The only reason we aren't in a brig is because they haven't built one yet," Vortex had grouched. Jazz sent him a look begging for patience, but no one openly argued against that opinion.

Barns felt nervous every time the new Autobots were around, even more so than when the human soldiers were there. The smaller blue Autobot wasn't too bad and he wasn't sure where the yellow one disappeared to. But he didn't like the black one called Ironhide—he was aggressive and clearly biased against them. In Barns' eyes Ironhide posed the most danger to them, because he had the experience and the firepower to do a lot of damage in a short amount of time, if he chose to. However he particularly disliked the rude red one that would often throw snide comments toward Wildrider, Vortex and Thundercracker, the three members of his family who were barely holding it together as it was because of their innate distrust of the Autobots.

And then, of course, there was Prowl, the police car. Barns had never pried into Jazz's previous relationship with the Autobot (a tactician, interestingly enough), but now he wished he had gossiped more. The tension in the room that naturally existed whenever all the mechs were together increased ten fold when both Prowl and Jazz were there. It was even worse when Thundercracker was there, because he looked ready to tear Prowl in half… something Barns was pretty sure was entirely plausible. None of them wanted to deal with the consequences of that, however; Optimus Prime was more than capable of taking Thundercracker on solo.

The only Autobot who was half-way calm around the survivor mechs was the medic, Ratchet, and that seemed to be because of a new bias he had after witnessing Thundercracker's memories. The medic knew what they had all gone through, believing them with far more intensity than Prime or Major Lennox ever would. Barns normally disdained sympathy, but for now, it was their chief resource. At least that ensured they'd continue to get food and care.

What that meant for him and the three other humans in their group was unclear. They had received new clothing and took their meals with their own mechs as they always had, without NEST officials throwing any sort of fit. They had given up trying to remove them from the mechs' after their many panic attacks earlier that week, so they were all a little calmer by the fifth day.

Barns had more to worry about than having a bed or fresh food, however: Danny.

She'd said about twenty words total since they were dumped in this new world. She ignored anything but the most essential of requests and duties. She was aware of some things; she got scared if people got too loud or the mechs argued or if someone threatened them. But Barns watched as Danny silently went through their days sitting in that hangar just… staring. She didn't cry. She didn't have nightmares…

She just looked out the hangar doors, as if waiting for something else to happen.

It broke his heart, and it hurt even worse when he realized that no matter what he did, Barns would not be able to give her peace.

He himself had not grieved; in fact, none of them had had the time to sit down and reflect on what had happened. To Barns, most of their time there seemed almost too fast, too unreal. It felt like a dream. He wished it were.

Barns laughed at himself, ignoring the stares it earned him, when they were all alone in that giant empty room.

He would have given up every bed, every bit of food, every drop of uncontaminated water and every piece of clean cloth for the rest of his short life—if only to go back and stop Wheeljack from ever suggesting they use that damn bridge.

But they had no bridge here with them. They couldn't go back. Ever.

They had left their world, far, far behind them, and were trapped in this new one. It didn't matter if the Autobots incarcerated them or killed them or just let them go. Because as far as this world knew, none of them existed. None of them mattered.

None of their suffering would ever even matter now.

When he closed his eyes, he saw the drones. He saw the forests of his homeland and he was running through them. The forest turned into long metal hallways that never ended, never gave him reprieve from running. He was all alone, because the others were dead and he was all alone and when he finally couldn't run, he fell—

And he fell hard.

Barns awoke from those dreams drenched in sweat and breathing as if he had been running all that while. His heart pounded almost painfully and he felt cold, even as the August air around them in the open hangar was warm.

Throat strangled, Barns sat up and grasped his head with both hands. He felt everything move around him, like the Earth was rolling away from where he sat, also leaving him behind, like everyone else.

It was foolish. All around him, there were bodies in sleep or recharge. He was not alone. He wouldn't be alone ever, because if death took the others, it would surely take him at that time too. Because they were together.

Barns took deep breaths of air, but everything still felt cold. He wanted to just walk. Or run. But he couldn't, because they weren't allowed to run.

They had to, though. They had to keep moving, because if they stopped, they'd die. He knew that. They all did. They had to keep moving moving moving or else they'd be slaughtered, just like Goddard, or the Hall family, or Wheeljack—

"Barns?" a soft voice to his left asked. A hand, small and feminine grabbed his shoulder.

Barns inhaled sharply and yanked away from the hand. He saw Kass staring at him in the darkness, the only light coming from the far-off hallway and lamps outside the hangar. Her cot was next to his and behind her, he saw two blue optics peering at him like distant stars.

"Je ne peux pas …" he started. He swallowed and wiped a hand over his face, which was wet from more than just sweat. "Sorry. I'm sorry." He hoped he hadn't screamed in his sleep. Judging by the fact that only two of the others were awake told him he hadn't.

Kass drew her hand back and sat patiently as she observed him. "It's okay, mate," she said, calmly. "Relax."

Bluestreak, as it turned out to be, leaned closer toward the two conscious humans. "What's the matter?" he asked, in the same quiet voice; there was no point waking the others. Barns was glad Bluestreak was on watch duty and not Wildrider. He had become dangerously unhinged by everything that had happened.

"Dreams. Just dreams," Barns said, still wiping his face. He looked around and couldn't tell from the lighting outside what time it was. It felt odd having clocks hanging on walls, but it wasn't like he could see them now. "What time is it?"

"Four fifteen," Bluestreak replied helpfully. He kept his optics on him as he leaned in closer. "Are you okay, Barns? You're breathing really hard."

Barns tried to laugh, but the sound was hoarse and alien to his own ears. "Dreams, Blue," he replied, glancing the Autobot's way.

"Want to get some water?" Kass asked, still whispering. Although the entire hangar had had to be decontaminated, they still had access to the bathroom which had sinks with running water.

Running water. If she had been coherent, Danny would have been fascinated by the concept. Barns himself found it difficult not to play around with the faucets when he was alone in there.

"No," he said, shaking his head. He just wanted sleep. Restful, uninterrupted sleep.

Kass could sense his despair the same way she had always had, whenever things had gotten bad for them. They all looked out for each other like that. Although, usually he was the one giving the sympathy—not receiving it. It felt wrong.

"Barns…" she began, sounding upset.

He tried to wave her concern away. It was too soon for this. "It's fine," he lied.

"No," Kass replied firmly. "No, it's not."

Barns hated the fact that it wasn't just him who saw through lies or moods. They were all skilled at deciphering each others' actions and emotions in the worst of times. He couldn't afford to lose his own cool when there were some in their group who weren't even speaking. He had to be stronger. He had to be there for them.

When Kass gently placed her hand on his shoulder again, Barns almost sobbed.

"Why did we come here?" he asked the air, not directing his question at anyone. Beside him, Kass gripped his shoulder tighter and Bluestreak's optics dimmed even more.

"I don't know, Barns," Kass answered. She sounded sad.

Barns rubbed his eyes again. "Danny still isn't talking. Not to me. Or Wildrider, even," he said, though he was sure Kass had noticed that. "He doesn't look good either."

"Can you blame them?" Kass asked with a small sigh.

"Give them time," Bluestreak added quietly. He made a small mechanical whining sound. "It takes time."

Barns closed his heavy eyes. "I know." They all did.

"What do you think will happen to us now?" Kass wondered. She sat back and released his shoulder. "They are still trying to decide. It's taking bloody forever."

Bluestreak tilted his head at them, his optics proving it more than an actual image of his face did. "Well, they won't hurt us. They won't," he assured them. He sounded sure of himself. "And I know they are trying to make things better for you four especially."

"I don't want better if it does not include the rest of us," Barns replied, shaking his head. They were a unit of ten, not ten individuals. "They should treat us as our own entity, not just some Autobots, some humans, or some Decepticons."

"I agree," Kass said. The cot creaked as she shook her head. "I don't think they'll try to separate us again." Barns started to complain about that comment, but Kass cut his complaint off knowingly. "Oh, Barns, please. The whole decontamination thing was necessary, though that guy was a bloody jerk."

Barns looked away, frowning. "Perhaps." He could appreciate the medical concerns, but these people needed to learn tact.

Kass sighed. "Ha…" She was probably smiling, out at the darkness that seemed to encircle their meager encampment. "I am so tired," she said.

"Same," he replied. Everything felt heavy, from his eyes to his heart.

Bluestreak loomed more overhead. When he spoke though, it was comforting, however. "Try to get some sleep," he said.

Kass patted Barns' shoulder once before laying back down and Barns tried to imitate her calm acceptance of their situation. It would not help any of them to panic or refuse NEST's help. They needed the assistance, no matter how much it threatened to rip their nerves to shreds.

Barns laid back and tried to imagine himself a million miles away from everything. It didn't help.

When he shut his eyes, all he saw were one-eyed monsters that tore through his flesh, and when he woke up to blaring yellow sun, he woke up believing he was dead.

He woke up and died a lot that first week.

0000

Keller had just landed back on California soil on the base's heli-pad when he received a frantic request to convene at the tech center with Prowl and Lieutenant Epps. It wasn't good news either, judging by how panicked the entire tech crew seemed when he walked into the large room.

"Epps, speak to me!" Keller barked as he hurried over to the far wall, where soldiers were working on what looked like a repeat signal of what the NSA had found in Qatar two years ago. He looked up at the black-and-white mech standing by the overhead catwalk with Epps. "Hello, Prowl."

Prowl looked down at Keller respectively. "Hello, Director. One moment," he said, going back to helping Epps with something.

When the government had offered to build a computer installation here on the base that could rival that of the NSA, the Autobots had accepted. However, Ratchet and Prowl had reprogrammed the most powerful mainframe to process the data in a more advanced way, which made it the computer they used primarily for decryption and to aid Prowl in his tactical analyses. Although he wasn't a tech, Epps had spent a lot of time helping Sideswipe install the Cybertronian tech, so he'd gotten pretty good at using this highly advanced piece of equipment.

"We have the feed up," he told the Autobot before looking back down at Keller, still on the lower level, his expression strained. "Director Keller. An unexpected Cybertronian signal was picked up by NSA again this afternoon. It's most likely Autobot. Our translation software still isn't up, so Prowl's here to translate," he explained to Keller.

John Keller balked at that. They had not been expecting to hear from any more Cybertronians, at least on their side, until the forward crew they had cleared was approaching. That was a month away, however.

Without warning, the room was filled with an echoing, eerie sound that resembled electronic feedback more than language. But to Prowl and Sideswipe, who had escorted Keller there, it was understandable. Both mechs peered at the screen and the audio wave pattern, entranced.

"Wait… what? What's happening?" Keller demanded, trying to get answers as soon as possible.

"Director, please," Prowl muttered. He listened for a moment longer before making a sharp sound. "Primus..."

Sideswipe gaped at the screen. "Aw, shit," he said, his despair more alarming than anything else.

"What is happening?" Keller demanded, even louder. He waved his hand at the group in front of him, not caring who spoke up. "Someone talk to me!"

"That was a distress signal from the shuttle carrying the Autobot forward unit from Hyperion," Prowl summarized quickly. His door panels were flying up and down his back erratically; Keller had suspected they had something to do with body language, but it wasn't like they had the time to study it. "They received fire from what they assume is Starscream's trine and possible additional Decepticon forces."

"Oh, God—," Keller managed. Starscream, the mech on everyone's most wanted list at this point, was actually nearby? "They found him? ! Where? !"

Prowl kept playing the message, the warbling thankfully not so deafening now. "Your dwarf planet, Pluto," the tactician replied. "He was using the distance to hide himself and his ensemble. We aren't sure how many." Suddenly, Prowl drew away from the console and hissed. "Curses."

Keller braced himself. "What?" he asked, dreading bad news.

"They're approaching Earth now," Prowl announced. Epps whipped around on the catwalk and gave Prowl a startled look, while Keller personally felt like fainting.

"Who is? !" he demanded, mind racing. Starscream and the Decepticons or—?

"The forward team," Prowl answered, sounding peeved. The message had stopped at that point. "They will be arriving by week's end."

Epps opened his mouth to speak, but Keller beat him to it. "What? !" he exclaimed, rounding as best he could on the two-story alien. "It was supposed to take another month for them to get here!" They had been preparing for the forward team, but had not expected them to arrive so soon!

Prowl glanced at Keller, scowling. "I do not know why they will arrive so early!" he replied shortly. He looked back at the screen and looked even more agitated. "Primus, if the information they have sent about the size of Starscream's forces is true, they're lucky to be alive."

"Are you sure it's them?" Epps asked, worried.

"That signal is encrypted," Prowl answered. He paused and looked back at Sideswipe with a look that could only be sarcastic. "Good news, Sideswipe, your brother is only a few days away."

Sideswipe made a whooping sound by the door. "Yes!" he cried, ecstatic. Prowl sighed.

For everyone else in the room, including Epps and Keller, there were no reasons to cheer. "This is—this is unacceptable!" Keller exclaimed, grasping his head. He spun around, angry. "Where is Prime? !"

Prowl frowned down at the DNI. "They are early, but this was planned for, John," he replied slowly.

"Oh? And the six other mechs in Hangar B?" Keller shot back, unable not to be furious. This was completely ridiculous. "How the hell am I going to explain this, Prowl? !"

"The truth," the Autobot replied, blunt as ever. "This is beyond our control."

"Well, it shouldn't have been!" Keller shouted. Epps had the decency to sheepishly excuse himself from the room to go let Lennox know, leaving Keller to rail at the two robots and a human tech team that were out of their element. "Goddamn it—Washington is going to eat me alive because of this! This means we're going to have ten Autobots running around, plus those other six mechs, some of whom are ex-Decepticons!" he said. "This is completely out of control."

"What would you have them do, Director? Turn around? Fly back into an ambush and be killed by Starscream?" Prowl demanded, facing him completely. He tilted his head at the human, looking almost curious. "This is no longer about interspecies politics, or Washington rhetoric. We are here to save your planet. This is about more than what humanity likes. This is about what it needs."

Keller glared at him; he had stopped being intimidated by their height months ago. "Don't you lecture me on what this is. I know what this is," he snapped. "I know, God help us, we need you 'Bots, but Prowl, you have to understand, Earth isn't ready—"

Sideswipe made a scoffing sound, but Prowl cut him off with a glare. "Ready for what? Answers?" the Autobot tactician said, looking back at Keller patiently. "The time for the truth to be revealed is not going to wait for you or your superiors to feel better about your roles in all of this. This coming war will not wait for you to find a way to turn the situation to your political advantage. Mankind's greatest strength is its unity as one species, something our race no longer has. Do not waste that resource, Director."

He hated when the robots had a point against what he had to do. Perhaps teaming up with the smartest 'Bot had been a mistake; most of D.C.'s finest couldn't hold a candle to Prowl's intellect or logic, though Keller knew that might help them in the long run. At least he hoped it would.

"…Goddamn it," Keller muttered. He ran a heavy hand over his face. "Obama is going to rake me over the coals for this one." At least Michelle wasn't in on the NEST situation, because she probably would do worse.

Prowl nodded. "I will let Optimus know and I know he will take responsibility for the situation," he said. He looked at the door pointedly. "For now, we must prepare for the influx of Autobots arriving. Four is better than having the entire Hyperion crew arriving, after all."

Keller wished there were fewer names to remember. "How many Autobots were on that ship again?" he asked, distracted.

"The Hyperion hosts a forty-nine mech crew." Prowl paused, optics flashing as he retrieved the data he needed. "Galaxus has sixty-seven." Sideswipe snickered.

Sweet Jesus.

Keller did his best not to swear; that was Lennox's job. Instead, he ground his teeth together and stomped away from the tech center entrance. He heard the telltale sounds of metal feet walking behind him at a sedate pace, so he knew Prowl was following. Keller also tried not to imagine over a hundred mechs actually existing, let alone walking around or being anywhere near Earth, because at that point, they definitely would have to make the call to announce the truth to the world.

He hoped he was either dead, retired, or just too senile at that point in the future to be the one to make that call.

As they walked, Prowl was initially quiet, but Keller knew the mech very well at this point. He was smart—a genius by all standards—and had quickly mastered the art of human politics, if one could call it an art. However, he could use work on his subtlety.

"I do not think mentioning the bringing down of the Ark to Earth soil and the help it would offer to house the influx of Cybertronians is needed at this point, but just as a reminder…" Prowl began, just slightly smug, the rotten bastard.

Keller waved his hand at the mech, silencing the already heavily discussed topic immediately. "No ship, or shuttle, is coming down here. Not yet. The President was clear on that," he said.

They had talked about this way too many times in the past. While the practicality of bringing down an entire alien space craft, far larger than any ship humanity could build even though it was just a shuttle, was enticing when faced with the possibility of more aliens arriving, Keller could not convince his bosses of the safety of doing so. A ship-turned-base wasn't just something to make life easier for them; it was a sign of permanence that Washington was just not ready for when dealing with their Autobot allies.

"For now, NEST's compounds will have to work," Keller continued. "If need be, Diego Garcia is almost ready to handle you folk, if NEST decides to split its troops between there and here."

Prowl, probably in an unconscious gesture, smirked. "I'm sure the United Kingdom's officials will be so grateful for that," he said, dryly. His door panels danced on his back, so Keller figured he was amused.

"For a mech that's supposed to be humorless, you sure have sarcasm down," Keller muttered, though he was also thinking about how he would be having to deal even more with their British allies now if they did move some Autobots into the joint military base.

"I did not become the Autobot Chief Tactician without mastering the ability to adapt, Director," Prowl replied calmly. He opened the door to the empty conference room for the human. "Come. Let's call for Prime and see what we can do about our problems."

.

End Chapter 9.

Next, we get to meet the bestest most fun minor character ever in this story, AND some giant robot angst! You know you're excited for this, guys.

A/Ns:
-Diego Garcia, a real military base in the Pacific, is jointly owned by both British and American forces. Hence the random British soldiers in Revenge of the Fallen and this story.
-Yup, Obama's the President at this point. Might as well make this easier for myself and keep that in ahaha.
-Pluto will forever be a planet in my heart. RIP Pluto. I'll tell my grandkids about having nine planets back in my day…