Transformers 3 concept

Chapter 11

Sketch

Bumblebee pulled up in front of Leo's apartment, but he already knew that Sam wouldn't bee there. He had been gone for hours. Surely Sam had caught a cab back to the house. The Camaro sighed through his air conditioners. He had been running off a lot lately, perhaps too much.

But it was necessary. The Decepticons were near, he had seen glimpses of them. They were planning something big. He could feel it in his spark.

His thought processor returned to the battle in Egypt. He remembered the horrible moment when Sam's heart had stopped beating, from the blast of Megatron's cannon. Bee could never forgive himself for that unbearable moment. He had sworn that he would never let a Decepticon hurt the human again, and he planned on keeping this promise.

Yet, how could he protect Sam if he was away fighting Decepticons? And staying near Sam meant the 'cons could grow stronger, increasing their ability to hurt Sam. Either way, Sam was left in danger.

Bee started toward the house, darkening his windshield so he wouldn't need to use a hologram. His thoughts turned to the girl, the one that would be staying with them. She struck him as… odd. The whole situation with her coming to live with Sam and Mikaela was too convenient. All of Bee's internal alarms were ringing, but then again, the Decepticon activity had them ringing already.

Bee shook off the feeling. He was just over-reacting, that was all.

He pulled into the garage, shutting off his engine just as Alex poked her head through the door.

Alex looked at the garage, her eyes resting on the shiny yellow Camaro.

"Ooh," she gasped, stepping inside to run her hand over the hood, right along the edge of the black stripe. The metal was warm, from the engine running recently, yet she didn't seem to notice, or if she did, didn't care. "Sweet ride,"

Giving the hood a gentile pat, she moved to a workbench, pulling out a few sheets of paper and a pencil. She knelt, beginning to draw.

There was a metallic sound behind her, and she turned, eyes searching the garage. She stood, walking over to pick up a blue remote-controlled monster truck. She flipped it over, turning a wheel forward and back. It made the same sound she had heard before.

"Hm…" she ran a finger down the car's undercarriage. It was metal, not plastic. The plating on the sides and top as well. Not too common for a toy car.

"Alex?"

She turned, lowering the car. Sam stood in the doorway, looking at her with confusion, then at the toy car in what could have been fear, and finally at the Camaro with unsure-ity.

"Hey, what'cha doing in here?" He asked, stepping inside and sitting on the Camaro's hood.

"Nothing much," she said, placing the monster truck on the ground and turning to lean against the Camaro's passenger side door. "Nice ride, by the way."

"Oh, this old thing?" He patted the hood with a knowing smile.

"Old, my ass!" Came a muffled voice from the radio.

Alex cast the car an odd glance, her eyes scanning the interior, resting momentarily on the symbol in the center of the steering wheel, but only momentarily.

"What's up with your radio?" Asked Alex.

"It's broken. Always has been." He said quickly. "Mikaela's going to fix it, I hope, so he… it, will be in the shop every so often."

The radio made a noise as it cycled through channels, but it cut off suddenly as Sam bumped the hood with his fist.

Alex opened her mouth to ask something when Sam noticed the papers on the workbench. He walked over to them, picking up the top sheet.

"Did you draw this?" he asked, holding up the paper. It showed a partially-detailed sketch of a camaro.

Alex blushed. "Uh, yeah. It's not done yet." She said, trying to get to the pile of papers, but Sam grabbed them first, flipping through them. His face suddenly went pale. He stammered a bit, then locked his jaw. Alex saw his reaction, and quickly said "What's wrong?"

"H... er, what are these?" he asked, fanning out the papers for her to see.

Each paper had a different vehicle in the background. But that wasn't what frightened Sam. It was the corresponding robot in the fore-ground. There was a police motorcycle, its robot a compact one in a sort of martial arts pose. Another showed a moped with a sleek looking femme. Still a third had both a tank and a jet, and a robot with a changing face, with three separate drawings of the head to show them. There was a Ferrari with an alt. form that looked made for speed, and a taxi-cab, it's alt-form only semi-completed. Perhaps the most jolting was the perfect Decepticon symbols on some, while others had an empty space, as if unsure of their side.

Alex colored. "They… they're based off of that broadcast a few years back. I saw this symbol on the… the things," she motioned to the Decepticon symbol, "and figured, what would others look like? So I started doodling some, and realized that they looked like certain vehicles, so I would look at cars and stuff and try to turn them into… whatever those were. It's stupid, really."

"How come only some of them have the symbol?" he asked, trying to keep the frightened squeak out of his voice.

She shrugged. "It didn't fit some of them, I can't really explain it."

With a quick nod, he handed the pile back to Alex, as if glad to be rid of it. "That's cool. Hey, you're going back to school tomorrow. You need your rest."

Alex opened her mouth to protest, but decided to go easy on Sam, and leave the teenage attitude for later. "Alright, I guess. See you in the morning, Sam."

"Night, Alex." He called as she left the garage. As soon as she was gone, he collapsed on the bench, cradling his head in his hands.

"Bee, could she know?" he murmured, the toy car rolling up to transform beside his foot.

"Who knows?" the radio portrayed Bee's confusion and unsurity.

He looked down, spotting a paper that had fallen to the floor. He picked it up and looked at it. The image nearly made him feint.

A police car was in the background, a rough shape of a transformer in the foreground. It wasn't detailed, and there was no insignia, but Sam didn't need one.

It was Barricade.

Alex was halfway to her room when she realized she was missing a picture. Hoping to grab it without being noticed, she hurried back to the stairs. She stopped halfway down at the sound of voices.

"It has to be him."

"The drawing's barely detailed, it could be…"

"Look at the shape, and most of the other drawings had…." The voice stopped, then started again, but too quiet for Alex to hear. She crept forward silently, making no noise. Sam and Mikaela stood in the doorway to the garage, looking at her drawing.

"Could she know?"

"What if she's… whatever Alice was?"

"Bee, would you be able to tell if she was…?"

"Most likely… nothing's coming up…" came a garbled radio from within the garage.

"She's just a girl…"

"But then how…?"

Alex didn't want to hear anymore. She crept back upstairs, then grabbed her cell phone, pressing the first speed dial.

It picked up on the first ring, though there was no greeting needed.

"We need to talk." She said quickly.

"When?" came the other voice.

"As soon as possible."

"Alright, I'm coming now. can you get out?"

"You're seriously asking?"

"Sorry, habit. Be right over."

She flipped the phone shut. She shoved a few wadded up sweatshirts beneath the bed covers before climbing out the window, hopping down to the ground effortlessly, despite being on the second floor.

A squad car was already idling a few houses down. Alex jogged up, sliding into the passenger seat.

"What happened?" Princeton asked, his face in what might have been concern, but it was always so hard to tell with those dumb glasses.

"Just drive." She said, cradling her throbbing head, the contents of what her temporary guardians had said washing over her. "I need a minute."

Princeton put a hand on the girl's arm, but she shook it off. Looking slightly hurt, Princeton put his hand back on the wheel, gazing at her another second.

"Dammit, P, stop staring at me and just go!" she shouted, not even looking at the man.

The car's lights turned on and pulled off into the night.

Prime walked into the med-bay, taking a look around. Soundwave gave a sort of hiss at him. Optimus took a step toward the cage. Soundwave challenged him with ruby eyes, daring him to do his worst, but OP just gave a small sort of smile.

"We need to get you a more hospitable holding cell, now don't we? This cage is hardly humane. I'll see what I can find." He gave the bars a little tap before turning to find Ratchet, leaving a dumbstruck Soundwave sitting in silence.

"Greetings, Ratchet." He said to the yellow doc-bot.

Ratchet, who had been working on something on the computer, looked up. "Hello Optimus. You needn't be so kind to our prisoner."

"I know," Prime said with a very human shrug. "You've been cooped up here for days. What is bothering you, my friend?"

Ratchet crossed his arms, looking at the screen in annoyance. "A computer glitch. I've been working on it for megacycles, and still I cannot find the source." He motioned to the screen for emphasis. "Yet the information this virus is sending me is not possible."

"What is it telling you?" Prime asked.

Ratchet hesitated, and Optimus picked up on it immediately.

"You can tell me, Ratchet." Optimus placed a hand on the other bot's shoulder.

Ratchet looked at his leader, then pulled up a display with a few keystrokes. It showed the solar system, but there was something different about it.

"Where's Pluto?" Prime asked.

"Exactly. The Virus is feeding this false satellite transmission to the computer. But there's no way it could be accurate, right?" Ratchet turned to Prime, as if asking him to assure his suspicions.

"Right," Prime said, not looking at Ratchet. He seemed distracted. "Go recharge, you look exhausted." He patted the yellow mech's back.

Ratchet was about to make one of his quite awkward state-the-obvious comments on Prime's distraction, but decided against it and simply nodded, leaving Prime to stare at the screen.