Rating: T for adult themes. Language, violence, character death.

Disclaimer: The only thing I own in this work of complete fiction is Velocity/Sira. She is mine. Everything else is copy righted and owned by some really rich people. I make no money from this, but wish I could.

Co- authored with Benjamin Bradt. Seriously, people ya'll have no idea how different and short this would have been without him. Beta read by Okami-myrrhibis, without her talents, it would look like a troll wrote part of this.

XxxX

Seeking Enlightenment

XxxX

"I will not be your prisoner! You can't do this to me! I have rights!"

Velocity stopped in the corridor and looked down at the woman cradled in her hands. The yelling had started once they were in the hallway and Catherine realized that she really wasn't going to get to leave. The femme had reached her tolerance level and the screeching was starting to make her audios ring. "Would you shut up before I clap my hands together?"

The threat was enough to stop the torrent of complaints and demands from the reporter. Miss Cutter had her arms folded over her chest and was attempting to stare the fourteen foot tall femme down. "That wasn't a very nice thing to say; especially coming from the Autobot's supposed Cultural Expert." The woman's voice held scathing sarcasm and was meant to hurt.

"Listen, this isn't the Country Club, so stuff your civil rights and 'I'm an American Citizen' bullshit, and pay attention you ungrateful little snot." Velocity snarled. If Miss Cutter wanted to play 'Who's-the-Biggest-Bitch', then she would play too…and win. "I don't care if you have Michael Coors as your best friend and he dresses you every morning, but the power is out state-wide and night is coming. You live in Vegas right?" Velocity didn't wait for an answer; she already knew it. "What do you think it is going to be like tonight in the place known as Sin City? Do you think your home security system will save you…oh, wait, that runs off electricity and you don't have any. There won't be any lights to chase away the shadows, or secure the gates to your complex to keep out the 'unwanted elements' of society. Optimus is trying to keep you safe and out of harms way until order can be restored. The least you can do is show a little gratitude. So sorry that the Autobot base isn't the Ritz-Carlton, but you will be safe here and can go home later. Stop carrying on like a menstruating school girl and be content that your situation isn't permanent…" The femme muted her vocals before she ranted on too much. There were some aspects about her life that she could not talk about.

The woman looked away and Velocity continued towards her destination; frustration and anger rolled off her and hung in the air; a fog of indignation was left in her wake. It wasn't just that she had to contend with the reporter. Oh, that irked her plenty; it was that Optimus knew she didn't want the title of Cultural Expert hanging over her head, and he forced her into the position anyways. She might know about humans, but she wasn't an expert. She didn't have formal education or training to pull from, just her own observations and experiences. He was pinning their relations with the humans on her and she resented it. She didn't want the responsibility, nor the headache. Her thoughts bitterly turned to a time when she was a small, flesh bound woman, similar to the one sitting in her hands. Once she worried about money, or being found out for the freak she once was. That was easy, compared to this. This was a race's future hanging in the balance and their leader thought that it was a great…wonderful…smashing idea to have her initiate the newbies. How did she wind up in this mess?

"So are things hard for you being the only Cybertronian female on the planet?" the reporter asked. That was not the question that Velocity wanted to hear. "Where are we going or where can I get a pedicure?" would have been easier to deal with. She didn't want to become the feature on some news special. She didn't have any desire to spill the troubles of her soul to someone who would only show them to the world. She had a class to teach and she had no clue how to go about it, nor did she even want to, but she would because he asked.

Stopping in the middle of the hall, she closed her optic shutters and cycled her vents. When she opened them again, she saw a dark vestige stomping towards her, and came up with a quick plan to dump some of her problems. Twisting her face into a small smile, she gave the larger mech a courteous nod and acted as if everything was right in the world. It earned her a suspicious look, but nothing more. As she passed her victim, she turned and deftly placed the woman on Ironhide's shoulder, then with a few prancing skips was well out the weapons specialist's reach

The change in the massive Autobot was instantaneous. The moment a fleshy foot touched him, he stiffened, a hand reaching up to secure the woman and keep her from falling. "What the…Velocity! Get this off me!"

Walking backwards away from the startled mech, she wanted considerable distance between the two of them… just in case. "Nope, she's yours now," she replied cheekily. Turning, she walked away from one problem and doubted she could get out of the other one so easily.

XxxX

Leaning against the wall, she counted to ten. It didn't work, she still wanted to run and hide. Twisting slightly so she could peer into the room Velocity shuddered at the thought of having to address the mechs that were assembled in there as their chatter rose and fell in pattern to whatever they were discussing amongst them selves. Occasional laughter echoed out of the conference room and into the hallway. Apparently, Optimus had never stumbled across the statistic that ranks the fear of public speaking above the fear of death; mix that with a her healthy mechagoraphobia and any cybernetic idiot could understand why she had been standing in the corridor for the past hour wishing for the world to end. Pressing her back against the wall once more, she shuttered her optics and tried to will her anxiety away.

The soft whine of gears in motion caught her attention and she looked to see who had caught her in the throws of a near-panic attack; the bold patches of black and white made her yelp. Casting her optics downward she deeply cycled her vents in an attempt to calm her racing pump.

"The Prime has explained that you were almost terminated by Barricade and that it was only by the Grace of Primus that Ratchet was able to repair the damage to your systems. I can assure you that I am not him, thought we share some similarities in form and preferred coloration. It would be easier for you to learn to trust me, and as far as I am concerned, that particular Decepticon is functioning on borrowed time." The words were spoken in a clipped, no nonsense manner while the mech's cool blue optics bore into her, noting every little twitch and movement she made.

"Optimus told you what happened?" she asked with more than a hint of skepticism in her voice while not looking at the mech. Maybe if she pretended that it was 'Bee she was talking to…

She glanced sideways; her mate's Second-In-Command stood ramrod straight and smartly clasped his hands behind his back. "Prime stated that you were on patrol in Tranquility when you crossed paths with the shock trooper. You should consider yourself fortunate; few survive such an encounter without lasting damage."

And you have been completely lied to Velocity thought to herself when she realized Optimus had twisted the truth to protect her secret. As far as one of his closest officers was concerned, she was just another mechanoid. "Um…Thank you?" was the only thing she could think to say that would continue the charade.

Prowl cocked his head to the side and gave her a curious look. "The Prime also asked me to come here and see how the class was coming along. He commented that you might try and 'worm your way out of it'." The last part was stated as if the mech was repeating from memory and had absolutely no clue as the meaning of the term. She narrowed her optics slightly. Her bonded's choice of words and actions was starting to infuriate her. Not only did he force her into giving this asinine lecture, without warning, he was so concerned that she would fail miserably he sent his right-hand-mech to check up on her. Anger reared its venomous head and chased away her fear.

Shifting her facial plates into a cold smile, she squared her shoulders and addressed Prowl. "Nope, I'm not going to 'worm' out of anything, just needed some time to prepare." Turning on her toes, she sashayed confidently into the room.

She didn't have to push her way through the crowd of Cybertronians; when she got close enough for her energy field to brush against another's, the mech would swiftly step out of the way. She didn't enjoy the sensation, but she knew that they were feeling her ire and were more than willing to step aside. Then the realization occurred, she just had a major insight to some of the social nuances of the Cybertronians. Quickly storing that bit of information away, she made note to ask Optimus about it, if she ever decided to speak to him again. As she took her place at the back of the room, she addressed the metallic throng. "Welcome to Earth 101." The echoing silence was not the response she had expected.

No one moved, and Velocity was waiting for a cricket to start chirping. Her first joke had died an immediate death and what little false confidence she had slipped away rapidly. In her head, she called her mate every foul name she could thing of and a few that she had just been inspired to invent.

"Ok…" she started anew with a meek tremble in her voice. "I'll tell you guys what. I won't waste your time explaining plate tectonics, evolution or the Nelson Ratings; all of which you can Google or Yahoo in your spare time, and you all just ignore the fact that I have no clue what I am doing." That earned her a couple of chuckles and one mech gave her a thumb's up and a warm smile…Hound; his name was Hound. At least there was one friendly face in the bunch. Paying more attention to the Autobots in attendance, she realized she recognized several of them. There was Mr. Wavy from the Ark; he now had an Earth alt mode and was covered in armor as red as hers. She saw a bulky silver-green shape attempting to fade into the corner; for such a dramatic entrance, Cosmos seemed rather meek and unassuming. At least he was up and around. The twins were off to the side and that didn't make her feel any better, they typically brought nothing but trouble. There was a long slender mech with a haughty expression. The red and blue Cybertronian standing with Hound seemed watchful and quiet. There was a large 'Bot almost the same height as Prime, but with a dour expression like he hated life in general. There were a couple of others she didn't know, one of which was so large he almost had to duck his head to keep it from bumping the ceiling. Damn, he was big. She had to strain her neck to look up at him. These mechs were allies to Optimus and she told her self that over and over. Gathering her thoughts, she decided to just wing it and use her cynicism to her advantage.

"Welcome to Earth or as most like to pronounce it 'Urf'. What can someone tell me about humans?" she asked.

"They are little and easy to squish," chimed Sideswipe. She couldn't help but smile, at least he was predictable.

"Sides', don't help," she said and some of the assembled group chuckled.

"Humans talk a lot," Mr. Wavy stated as he twitched with excitement.

"Yes, they do talk a lot, and sometimes they actually have something to say. What's your name?" she asked the red mech and he acted like he had just been shocked.

"Cliffjumper," he stated proudly as he jerked with barely contained energy.

Velocity shook her head. "Well, Cliffjumper, I think your timing belt is a little tight and you need to see Ratchet later." That had most of the audience laughing and the smaller red mech seemed decidedly embarrassed, but he was smiling. She relaxed a little and tried to enjoy herself.

"They come in two types, mech and femme…Smokescreen," said a blue and red mech in a soft voice as he nodded politely.

She corrected him. "Yes, but they are called male and female."

"They are a vastly inferior species and do not deserve the respect that we have been gracing them with." The comment had an immediate affect on everyone. Several of the mechs narrowed their optics and glared at the speaker, while some of the others tried to move away from him. Velocity was in shock.

"Ex…excuse me?" she stammered.

"I stated that humans are inferior to Cybertronians and this dirt clot that they live on should be beneath our notice. Once a shuttle arrives, we will be leaving this world and its primate inhabitants behind; therefore, I see little reason to be forced into in learning about them," a long, slender mech moved to stand in front of her. She studied him closely, from his metallic blue coloring to his arrogant sphinx-like face. He bent at the waist to close the distance and intimidate her.

She rose on her tiptoes to make sure he understood she couldn't be bullied. "If you don't like it here, leave, and let the door hit you in the aft on the way out."

The thin mech acted like he was going say something else when the sturdy shape of Cosmos came into her view. The stocky mech placed one green palm against the narrow mech's chest and shoved him back. "Rivet your vocal emitter, Mirage!" The short Bot's English was remarkably fluid, considering that he'd only been active a short time. "Whether or not you like the inhabitants of the Earth, the Prime has ordered us to familiarize ourselves to their ways, and the femme…Velocity, has been nice enough to instruct us, so curb your Decepticon-like candor and throttle back." Cosmos was not in anyway attempting to hide the warning in his voice.

"Ah, Cosmos," Mirage glowered sourly down at the shorter 'Bot. "While we're on the subject of this backwater little mud ball and its primate inhabitants, let us stop and consider the fantastic arrival of our 'communications specialist'. I hear that the monkeys are still tallying the corpses from your rapid evacuation from their military installation; so tell me, slaughtering the indigenous life forms, how satisfying was it?"

"Nowhere near as satisfying as this…" Cosmos' fist hit Mirage in the dead center of his chest with a resoundingly solid 'wham', sending the skinny spy flat onto his back. The green and silver mech moved to pounce on his antagonist. Without thinking, Velocity yelled and lunged at the two combatants to try to pull them apart, but quickly found Smokescreen's arms wrapped around her waist. "Easy there. Let the bigger 'bots sort this out," he whispered in her audios. Prowl came tearing into the room like someone had set his fuel tank on fire and grappled with Cosmos. The sound of straining gears filled the air as the tactician lifted the decidedly heaver mech off his target. Hound dragged Mirage to his feet and wouldn't let him go.

The SIC nodded to the tracker, who released his hold, and Prowl led the stout Autobot out into the hall. "Were it up to me, I'd have you in a dark hole until I figured out what the frag was glitching in your processor!"

"I apologize, sir." Cosmos hung his head, "I'm not sure what came over me."

"As it stands, Prime has informed me of your unstable condition, so I will not make a spectacle of this little...outburst. Instead, I expect you to go to Ratchet immediately for examination."

"Understood sir," Cosmos turned and started down the long hallway. Unstable? The communications specialist placed his arms behind his back as best he could, a gesture of reflection that he had seen both Perceptor and Optimus do for vorns, although their more narrow bodies allowed for the movement. Is that what this is about? Does Orion think I'm in need of special treatment for what happened on Titan? He sent a message to Wheeljack, informing him of his status; Ratchet might not indulge his curiosity, but the engineer was not one to trifle with trivialities like personal privacy or rules.

Mirage stalked out of the room. The cold, hard glares from the others sent him a silent message; he was not welcome. Velocity was pissed. The problem was that she didn't know who to be pissed at; turning to what was left of her students, she addressed them in a no-nonsense tone. "Alright, the fun and games are over. Let's wrap this up. I'm gonna tell you everything that you need to know about humans, and I will only say things once so pay attention… There are almost seven million of them on this planet and each and every one of them is a unique individual with a unique sense of self. Any particular person's sense of self or identity is created by their gender, age, race, ethnicity, religion, morals, ethics, social economic status, education level, family background, sexual orientation, hobbies, job, spouse, whether they have children or not, where they live, who their friends are, what car they drive, do they rent or own, what kind of pet they have, what football team they like and a hundred other seemingly unimportant aspects." With every item listed she tapped her fingers like she was counting. "The problem is that at any given time at least half the world's population is disgusted or enraged by any given part of any individual's identity…."

As the Velocity continued with her speech a solitary mech stood just outside of the doorway listening; his arms crossed over his chest, head hung in thought. Mirage had stormed past him without pause, not that that was unusual; the aristocrat barely acknowledged those he deemed to be lesser, regardless of rank. Prime wasn't going to like the report he had to deliver; Mirage was up to his usual hateful tricks and appeared to have found a target in the femme. Then there was Cosmos's out of character aggression towards the spy. Lost in his thoughts, Prowl didn't hear his commander approach.

"How are things going?" the Prime asked him.

Snapping to attention the tactician responded. "Not well; I'll have my report on your desk within the cycle. You were correct about the Cultural Expert. She was apprehensive, so I said what you told me to and her mood changed dramatically."

Optimus clasped his hands behind his back as he started down the corridor. "Hmm. I figured as much. Now, to find a way get my aft out of that trouble."

XxxX

He stood in stark contrast to the drab, dusty landscape that surrounded him; the sun glittered off of this polished armor and seemed to set him ablaze. As he watched, a small spec in the cloudless sky slowly grew into the shape of a Blackhawk helicopter. The machine's rotors thumped against the air, stirring up swirling clouds of debris that pelted his armor and lodged in his hundreds of gears.

Optimus was not looking forward to this meeting and that was a shame. Normally, he enjoyed visits from the Secretary of Defense; once their business was done, they would sit for hours and talk about trivialities. He knew all about Keller's childhood in Oregon and his marriage to Marsha Keller; Prime loved to just talk to the man. It was an un-obscured insight into the complexities of the human race. Also, Optimus just liked to talk to beings and get to know them on a personal level. Unfortunately, this trip would not be so pleasant. This meeting was bound to strain their friendship and test both sides' resolve to continue to work together in harmony.

The wheels of the 'copter bounced and then came to a rest on the tarmac and the Prime of Cybertron cycled his vents and mentally prepared himself to possibly have to negotiate for the life of one of his own. Before the rotors stopped turning, door slid open and Secretary of Defense John Keller stepped out and instinctively ducked to avoid the lethal blades that spun above his head. Following the statesman was a dark haired man with a thick mustache. Metal facial plated knitted together on a frown, Optimus had not been informed that Tom Banachek would be arriving. This changed a few things.

The men hurried towards him and it was Keller that addressed him. "We have some serious problems that need to be discussed." Prime just nodded and lead the way.

XxxX

The tension in the room was oppressive; it hung in the air like a fine mist, making the three allies hesitant and overly cautious. He could see the stiff postures of the humans, their faces tight and their hands clapped before them in matching closed gestures. He tried to keep his stance open and unintimidating; too much was at stake to inadvertently antagonize the Secretary of Defense or Tom Banachek.

For long minutes, neither side made a move; Optimus was glad he had ignored Prowl's arguments, and chose to be the only Cybertronian in the room. If things turned into a slagging pile of rust, he would be the only one burdened with the guilt. Keller poured himself a glass of water from the pitcher that sat on the conference table. Optimus watched as a bead of condensation slowly, and with increasing speed, rolled down the side of the crystal vessel. He felt a surreal kinship with the water droplet, the soft lull that he and his mechs had been enjoying was going to come to an end and with ever increasing momentum that none of them could control, they would be back at war. He knew in the depth of his spark, that darkness and despair was going to reenter their lives, he just didn't know when or exactly in what form.

Secretary Keller leaned back in his chair, the tip of a finger rubbing along his lower lip, tired eyes searching…him. Finally, the suffocating silence was broken. Banachek opened a plain file and asked, "Has N.B.E…I apologize…Has Cosmos, regained awareness yet?" Optimus caught the slip. He had made it clear that they didn't like having the humans number them like drones, and for their part, the humans were trying to remember that, but old habits died hard. He let the faux pas slide; it was a minor thing.

"Yes. Cosmos is online and I had to inform him of his involvement. He seemed somewhat unaware of his actions at the time, and was appalled at the thought of harming so many." It was the truth. The scientist was disgusted by his actions and felt that he needed to serve retribution for them.

Prime watched as the two men visibly relaxed. Apparently, they had been concerned about the Autobot's response as well. It was Keller that addressed him. "Are you implying that he doesn't remember what he did?"

Blinking his optic shutters, Optimus cocked his head to the side a little. "I am not implying that, I am stating that Cosmos has limited memories of what occurred within The Groom Lake Facility. Gentlemen, you must understand that he has suffered sever trauma due to events that took place just before he made Earth-fall. His team had been massacred by a Decepticon known as Sharkticon. This particular…monstrosity had a knack for literally cannibalizing other mechs. He would consume their energon and spark cores to fuel his own and then he would rip the deceased apart to acquire any augmentations he deemed useful." Prime paused to allow the full meaning of his words to affect the men. He was rewarded with wide-eyed shock; he didn't have to elaborate any further, not that he wanted to. "Through bravery and creativity, Cosmos was able to destroy his antagonist, but he himself was severely damaged and fell into stasis lock. As to what happened while he was in the custody of the United States, I can only guess at, and do not wish to do so. Over time, some of his energy levels increased and something happened to give him the fuel necessary to activate his higher programs and come online. It is my opinion that he registered the distress beacon from the Ark at the same moment that he realized he was being cut apart and panicked…"

"…Tearing apart everything in his path to reach you," Keller stated quietly. Optimus nodded slowly. The elder statesman shook his head. "If that had been a human soldier, he or she would have been heralded as a hero."

"I do consider him a hero. All of the mechs that have stood to fight the onslaught of the Decepticons are heroes, each in their own ways. Cosmos is one of the gentlest 'Bots I have ever met. He lives to explore other worlds and learn about other species. His bravery doesn't come from his willingness to destroy the enemy, but from the lengths he will go to, to get the job done. He will go out of his way to protect life, and he is an old friend. I know him well." Prime waited to see what the men would do. He hoped that they would hear his silent plea.

Keller nodded to Banachek who pulled a thick file out of his briefcase and laid it on the table. Turning the document stamped "Top Secret", he slid them forwards. "This is all of the information the Air Force had on the Area 51 UFO. You have full access to the documents to read for yourself. You will notice that on September twenty-sixth, nineteen eighty-eight, Sector Seven decreed that the spacecraft was not of the same origin as the Iceman and should be classified differently." Optimus carefully reached out and opened the cover of the file, his optics gazing over the information. With surgical precision, he turned the page and continued reading.

"This Sharkticon; he actually ate other Cybertronians?" Keller asked with some revulsion in his voice.

Prime continued to read as he answered the Secretary's question. "He consumed their sparks. My scientists theorized that that was the only way he could obtain enough energy to power all of his modifications."

"But you are basically machines. You can change and add onto your forms as you see fit, correct?" Tom had asked. Optimus was aware that there were glaring holes in what the government did not know about his people, and some of those holes needed to remain unfilled, but others were harmless enough.

"We are limited to the number and types of modifications we can perform to our bodies by many factors. Heavy armor inhibits speed. Larger weapons consume more energy. Flight capabilities literally take an entire overhaul. Each upgrade costs us something in return. What Sharkticon did was find a way to cheat. He upgraded so much that normal energy sources were inadequate and had to find an alternative."

"Normal energy sources?" Again, Banachek was asking the question. Optimus had forgotten that the man had a scientific mind and was very curious.

He had made it about half way through the stack of papers; by his estimate there were over a thousand pages, and he wanted to read them all before he continued to negotiate. Answering the question only took a small portion of his processor and kept the humans occupied. "Most of us prefer energon, but some of our number have the abilities to utilize other sources. For example, Bumblebee has receptors to convert solar radiation into a usable energy, and Cosmos has specialized chambers to process atmospheric gases. Allowing for both of them to be able to maintain top functioning levels for several eons without an energon supply."

"Gases, like liquid nitrogen?" Optimus looked up from his study to see a look of epitome on Banachek's face.

"Yes. Liquid nitrogen would be especially to Cosmos's liking."

"That explains why they were unable to subdue him."

"Let me guess, the people at Groom Lake attempted to freeze Cosmos?" The dark-haired man nodded slowly. Prime sighed. "You cannot incapacitate Cosmos as you did Bumblebee and Megatron. And the only reason you were successful with Megatron was because he was in such poor condition to begin with. Had he been at full strength, I doubt we would be having this conversation right now." Closing the back cover of the folder, the commander of the Autobots was satisfied. He saw no evidence that the government thought that Cosmos was anything but a ship from a non-Cybertronian race. He was deeply relieved. They could move forward. "It appears that the… researchers at Area 51 did not know they had a Cybertronian and neither did you."

"It appears that mistakes have been made on both sides, and we would like to do everything within our power to prevent such inaccuracies from happening again. Once this meeting is adjourned, I will have every Top Secret Project opened to see if any of them contain anything of possible alien origin. Any that do shall be passed along to you, but Optimus, this is for your eyes…optics only. Some of the material is still sensitive and you will not receive the full files, just what I deem to be important. The intelligence community is going to be up in arms and I am glad that a new administration will be sworn in next month and I can finally retire. Also, some members of Congress still want to hold a hearing on the subject, but the President and other key members have been stalling. I don't know how long it can be put off; some want heads to roll and others just want a formal explanation. You and Cosmos are going to have to come to Washington eventually. Also, I want your word that Cosmos will not be flying all over until we can sweep this under the rug and forget about it. As a matter of fact, I don't want his feet to leave the ground. Can we count on Autobot co-operation?"

Prime was hiding his frustration at Keller's comments. He understood the need to address the government; he would ask the same in their shoes, but he saw no reason to punish the scientist for something that wasn't his fault. Grounding the mech would be akin to the death sentence that they were trying to avoid. Keller had gone out of his way to assist and Optimus understood the need to play by the humans rules. "In as much as I can count on government cooperation. Thank you Mr. Secretary, I understand what a risk you are taking and will do everything in my power to help prevent another similar situation, but right now we cannot travel to Washington. Cosmos is still recovering and I fear that traveling might jeopardize his repairs," he said in dulcet tones that were heavy with concern.

"Optimus, you do know that the longer you delay the more it looks like you have something to hide?" Prime just nodded. Keller sighed. "I'll see what I can do. I'll play the pity card if I have to and remind the members of both Houses what sacrifices you have made and you are asking for nothing more than time so one of your own can heal. I think it will work, but, damnit, this is the last time I can postpone it, if at all. You still haven't explained how you managed to take out the entire power grid, and more than a few people are screaming for justice."

Prime rubbed his face in a gesture of frustration. There were several times in his long life when things didn't turn out as planned and instead of feeling disappointment or anger, he felt embarrassment. This was one such time; he was embarrassed that they had destroyed the humans' primary access to the electricity that they needed to run their homes and lives. Not one of his better moments. He had difficulty looking at the diminutive men as he spoke. "That was an…unforeseen occurrence. Had we known that the excess electricity would backlash into the Greater Nevada Municipal Power Grid, we would have attempted to do things…differently."

"What things?" Keller demanded.

Prime felt more like a disobedient sparkling than ever. To cover his discomfort he drew himself up to his full height and addressed the two men. "Cosmos had suffered a complete systems failure and was dead. In an attempt to reboot his systems, Wheeljack fed very large surge of energy through the scientist's body to shock his systems into restarting. This has never been attempted with a Cybertronian, and outcome was more than…we had planed on. Think of it as a similar practice to giving a human a defibrillator shock to start the heart. As a matter of fact, that is where Wheeljack came up with the idea. He enjoys watching E.R. with Ratchet."

He stood in silence as Keller and Banachek processed the information. "You approved for such a risky practice to occur?" the Secretary asked with skepticism and a look of disbelief on his face.

"There was little time to…debate all possible outcomes. One of my mechs was nearly dead and…we thought we could save him." With his head raised in a noble manner, he waited. A good leader always sheltered his own from the anger of others, and takes the blame when things go wrong.

The Statesman seemed thoughtful. "I am relieved you could save one of yours, but what are you going to do to fix the situation?"

Optimus was on firmer ground, he could fix this problem. These were concrete issues and they required concrete solutions. "I have assigned most of the Autobots to assist the utility company with their repairs. I also have Wheeljack working on some dampeners to protect against further surges. I wish I could say that this will never occur again, but the very nature of our technology would make such a statement inaccurate. Also, I have stared moving funds from C.E. Technologies to reimburse the state for the monetary expenditures."

Keller was nodding while taking notes on a pad of paper. "I cannot say for certain, but the money alone should calm some of the state officials down a bit. Throw enough of it at them and they might be willing to look the other way, once."

To Optimus, it felt like bribery. He couldn't count the amount of times he had been offered a startling sum of credits to ignore something or to push something past the council. Not once had he ever touched the tainted currency, not once had he ever lowered himself to be anything other than above reproach, and now here he was waving cash like some lowly Senator trying to obtain a new sky bridge for his city-state. When had he fallen from his standards, at what point had he given up? He must be tired, for his features had reflected his internal struggle, and the Secretary of Defense read him like a book. "I shouldn't have phrased it like that. Paying for the damage one has caused is a common form of retribution. Covering the cost of the damage and assuring them that it won't happen should be enough to convince them of your earnest intentions. If you would like, I am sure that the President would be willing to speak with the governors of Nevada and California."

A sincere "Thank you," rumbled around the room like long forgotten thunder. Optimus waited. He knew that this meeting was not over, as there were still items on the agenda to discuss, and anyone of them could unbalance their relationship. He watched as Keller motioned to Banachek once more and the former Sector Seven agent placed a laptop on the table and turned it on. Optimus was a bit concerned, he had no idea what was coming.

Banachek stood and addressed him. "We have detected several aborted attempts to hack into the Defense Department's computers."

Optimus' brow arched slightly. "You mean there have been recent attempts to access the mainframe, but our security steps have proven successful?"

"No," the man typed a few things into his laptop, "I mean that someone tried to access the mainframe, and upon seeing your security precautions they logged out." He clicked a few more buttons, "I am sending it to you now."

Prime downloaded the information, analyzing the logs thoroughly; apparently, someone had tried multiple times to infiltrate the DoD mainframe by knocking on the front doors, using a number of passwords directed at Wheeljack's encryption walls. Several of them used repeating letters: M, B, L, Y, E. A string of numbers caught his eye, and as he cycled through his own files, he came up with a scrap from a data log Velocity had composed months earlier.

265-89-7459

Melby, Anthony C.

Prime blinked his optics, "Interesting…someone appears to be trying to access the mainframe through Wheeljack's precautions by using information from our human allies' records."

"What do you mean?" Keller paled a little, glancing at Banachek.

"Does this mean we need to change passwords?"

"I would suggest using randomized passwords that do not coincide with alphanumeric data from the user's files; social security numbers, birthdays, addresses…none of those things are safe." The massive flame-covered 'Bot shifted anxiously, "I need to discuss this with my staff, if you will excuse me gentlemen."

"Agreed," Banachek and Keller rose, "We have some house cleaning of our own to do." Optimus allowed them to leave first, then made his way toward his engineer's workshop.

XxxX

A/N - Yes, Blackhawk helicopters have wheels, not skids. I checked.

Once again, my co-author has decided to chime in. Ya'll have no idea how bashful he is. Benjamin's responses are italicized.

To Tiamat1972 ~ Both 'Jack and Sides are clueless, and Side's has no idea what he is doing, or where things go. The poor mech just doesn't get it. To Elita One ~ Miss Cutter will be just fine, things turn out hunky-dory for her. Yes, history is full is mistaken bits of information, and just because this is a fanfic, doesn't mean the facts don't matter. Punk Autobot ~ Yes he does; and he will, but not just yet. He needs to come to terms with his own limitations, and get some pent-up aggression out of his systems. ~ And meds. He needs Zoloft. was down for three days, "It was like, OMG, the end of the world or something." you know we couldn't have some of the old Prowl not show up. He is a complex character, and I hope we can do him justice. To Taluliaka ~ I am pleased you are enjoying so much. This is the first time I have ever written anything about transformers, and considering the size of the fanbase, I was a little gun-shy at first. Thank Shielah, she's the one who dragged me out of my hole and made me start writing. ~ Don't listen to Ben, he is a darn good writer on his own, and keeps me inline. We aren't ending it until it is done, and it is a long ways from being done. Thank you so much. We are trying to make the characters appear as real as possible and give each of them their own distinct "voice". Exploring the different characters' psyches is one of the major aspects of these stories. Sometimes we even argue over what behaviors a char would and wouldn't do. A little note about Velocity/Sira; I was trying to create an OC with Mary Sue-ish traits that was enjoyable, likeable and interesting than she took of and became her own "person". All alerts and Favorites have been warmly received and appreciated. We Thank you for those.

Come on people, ask questions, critic (we want to get better), comment. Give us your ideas and thoughts. We don't bite…well, I do, but I've had my shots.