I'm doing laundry, and you know what that means… Chapter post!

Lots of nice reviews too, we've passed 200! Thanks guys, I love you too! When I finish the sidefic it will be a gift of some kind. I have no doubt there will be an occasion when the time comes.

Dierdre: (envisions Primus on a pogo stick[?!?!?!) That… what…?… Oh, there goes my diaphragm… Thanks for the hernia! …and the review.

Kyme, yet again you come to my rescue. I put the whole thing through the spellchecker every few… well, ok, I've done it twice. It's like trying to stuff a mech through a meat grinder. Thanks for watching my back. And I'll let you puzzle that one out on your own…

teh: "Don't believe in yourself; believe in me, who believes in you! Go beyond the impossible and kick reason to the curb! That is Tengen Toppa! That is Gurren-Lagann! Mine is the drill that pierces the heavens!" …You'll understand in time. (MECHS!) I finished Wing0. Photos forthcoming. W00t.

I hope I'm not about to bore you to tears… but there's a reason. A good one. I promise.

The Field Trip

Tom Banachek had been part of Sector Seven longer than anyone still working there; was the first to enter those doors before anyone not yet gone into retirement. When he strolled out to the loading doors in an old set of fatigues and carrying a backpack, no one noticed him any more than they did the pipes on the walls or the key card slots by the doors.

He was a fixture.

A fixture who, for nearly the past thirty years, had floated through every possible Above Top Secret area in the country as the head of the national Special Research Division. He had Clearance; try to keep up with the capitalization. So much clearance he was probably the only person alive who knew the whole story of Sector Seven and its contents.

When he had a conversation with a very polite semi tractor-trailer, who insisted it would be counter-productive for the moustached man to take a separate vehicle and left with it, the event barely raised eyebrows. His agents accepted it and moved on. It wasn't the strangest thing they'd seen by a long shot.

The five-hour, three-hundred mile drive was a pleasant one for both parties. They made small talk –and you'd be surprised at how much small talk you can make between a secret agent scientist and an alien robot- as Banachek gave the occasional direction and Optimus, well, rolled along up route 95. They spent all of two hours on the weather alone.

Although, that wasn't terribly surprising for either party. There was a lot to say about the weather, after all. The fact that Cybertron didn't have water in more than laboratory quantities was a point of no small interest to the human. Its almost non-existent atmosphere apparently left the sky full of stars all day long, even under the light of its closely-looming red giant, and its only bodies of liquid were small lakes of colorful acidic or metallic chemical compounds. It was an image the scientist wanted to see very much, and he could tell that the giant robot was just as intrigued by the tiny blue planet with its bright blue sky and its constant state of violent atmospheric turmoil.

When Banachek directed him up a small but paved mountain road to a log-cabin-style building at an elevation of over 11,000 feet, Optimus's interest was piqued. A sign marked it as a visitor center to the forest, but it appeared closed. After a moment of waiting an older man in a dark green National Forest Service uniform jogged out from a side dooe. He looked understandably surprised to see the huge truck idling there.

Banachek excused himself from the cab, ran around the truck, and firmly shook hands with the newcomer. "It's good to see you, Frank."

"Well Tom, you've sure outdone yourself this time. Can't believe you closed the whole park and drove up here in this monster of a thing just to visit your old friend." He was slightly shorter and broader than Agent Banachek, but even under his considerable grey beard Optimus could see a resemblance. "Not that I don't wish you'd come up here more often, maybe just to see your brother. You still up for Whitney in July?"

Tom gave him a rare, fleeting smile, "I don't know, Frank. Things have gotten hectic; I'll have to see what I can do. But I'm here on business today. I'm afraid I can't stay and chat."

This surprised the man Optimus surmised was one Frank Banachek, "Business? I'll be damned if you've ever brought business out into daylight before. What kind of business includes just you, a massive truck, and a bunch of trees in the middle of nowhere? This I've got to know."

"For the past forty years I've been studying extraterrestrials." He paused to gauge Frank's reaction.

"Well, I knew that one. You should know that for the past thirty-five the family's had a pool going on whether it was aliens or weapons. Looks like John and Cindy owe Jessie and me a cruise," his smile was warm and smug.

Tom managed to remain unruffled, "You realize this has to remain classified…"

"Of course. I'm a patient man. If you're telling me this now, you'll tell the rest of them eventually, and then we'll all go to Hawaii or somewhere to celebrate getting our brother back from the Man."

"This isn't a joke. The truck is an extraterrestrial, Frank." His tone was deadly serious.

His smile fading from everywhere but his eyes, the older man whistled and studied the vehicle with a newfound interest. "I can tell when you're kidding, when you bother to, you know. You're not joking now are you?" At a shake of Tom's head, Frank removed his hat and addressed the truck. "Well, what the hey? Welcome to Earth. I hope my brother here hasn't studied you into boredom yet."

Deciding to take the statement at face value, Optimus deemed it appropriate to respond. "Thank you, and not at all. Agent Banachek has been very accommodating."

"Well I'll be. You really are an alien truck, aren't you?" the forest ranger seemed more amused than surprised.

"Yes," Tom interjected, "This is Optimus Prime from the planet Cybertron, and Sir, this is Frank Banachek, my older brother and a ranger in the Inyo Forest Service." He allowed them to exchange 'How do you do's and 'Pleased to meet you's before continuing. "Unfortunately, the road won't take us any further than the visitor center."

"Ah, I see." With that Optimus transformed at length, once again allowed the luxury of time and space to get a good leisurely mechanical stretch.

Ranger Frank was awed. "Well that's just nifty. You're not a just an alien truck, you're a giant robot that looks like a truck. From space." Optimus inclined his head in the affirmative.

Tom put a hand on his brother's shoulder, "Sorry, Frank, but we want to hike the trail and make it back before dark. It will probably be slow going. Will you stay up here and make sure no one follows us?"

"Well, sure. I know I don't have to tell you to mind the trees with your large companion, but I'll tell you anyway. Mind the trees. And think about Whitney, will you? I've already made the jerky, so I'm going with or without you. And I know you wouldn't want your dear old brother to have to climb her and eat it alone, aliens or no aliens. Hell of a lot of jerky, Tom. See you on your way out." Smiling, he made his way back to the cabin to stand watch.

Optimus looked down at Banachek, "I believe he took that very well."

Tom nodded, a small twinkle of pride in his worry-lined eyes. "I wouldn't have told him if I didn't think he would. But this is going to become harder and harder to keep secret, and I didn't want to have this place overrun with S7 agents to bring you here."

"Yes, that would be unfortunate. This place is peaceful. If you are ready, Agent Banachek, we should not delay too long. I detect some dramatic changes in ground level in any given direction, which may take some time for me to navigate."

"Please, call me Tom. I know I told Frank that I was here on business, but it's not official business. I'm not an Agent today, just a person like any other. Please, follow me." And he led Prime, who took a small step for every five of Tom's, up a slope to the head of a broad trail. The accompanying sign rated the trail 'Easy' and appropriate for hikers and pets of any level of basic mobility. Though, the Forest Service probably didn't have Autobots in mind at the time…

Optimus's faceplates lifted in a smile as he carefully picked his way across the rocky ground after the human. "If I am to call you Tom, then please refer to me as 'Optimus.' I have been hoping for an occasion to speak more openly with a human of some experience. I believe that is the significance of being on a 'first name basis,' is it not?"

Tom turned to wait as the large Autobot ducked around a wide-flung tree branch across the path. "It is. I hope you don't mind coming all the way out here; you probably already learned the significance of this place via the Worldwide Web, correct?"

Finally managing to evade the coniferous offender, Optimus shuttered his optics and shook his head before taking his next great step. "No. Even if I were to do so, it would not tell me what importance you place on my coming here. I reserve that explanation for you, Tom."

The man moved along the trail with practiced ease, avoiding rock formations and tree roots as he spoke. "I appreciate that trust. Simmons had the right idea, but he took the wrong approach. You can force an introduction, you can even force civility, but you cannot force honesty when you're trying to hide everything yourself. That's why I wanted the chance to talk to you alone. Off of the record."

"I see. You wish to glean a better understanding of us than official relations might support. There is wisdom in that." The slope was getting steeper and, while the trees had thinned to a few twists of wood on an open slope, the grade had gotten steeper and the ground had become a jumble of loose stone. Optimus had to scan for the best footing and place his massive feet slowly to keep from sliding backwards.

"Not quite. The truth is, I'm breaking about every S7 protocol ever put to pen today. It doesn't matter if you choose to share anything or not; there are things that go beyond matters of national security." Hearing that the rhythmic crunches of rocks and dirt had stopped, Tom turned around to find Optimus considering the leaning form of a tree.

"Sam took Bumblebee to see a forest of exceedingly large conifers. He thought them very impressive, but I find that these are even more so. What is this specie of tree called?"

"These are all Pinus longaeva, Bristlecone Pines."

"I see." He turned and continued his careful way up the slope to rest his optics on Banachek, who came up to just above his waist where he was standing. "Tom, I have been fighting this war for a very long time. I have seen and done things that I regret more times than I care to recall, and I personally ordered that the Allspark be launched into deep space. That it landed here is entirely my responsibility. Your species was unprepared for that kind of discovery, and I am not so naïve as to believe that its power not explored in undesirable ways. I am only too happy to help clear the air between us, if that is your intention."

"I am glad to hear that." He gestured for his companion to follow as he continued up the slope. "The first time the Cube came into contact with something complex enough to transform was when the dam was already under construction, in 1932. A battery-powered wristwatch was accidentally dropped on it by a member of the construction crew. It killed six people before the workers managed to crush it with a steel pipe. Since then, there have been numerous experiments involving the Cube's mysterious power. In order to study its ability to animate machines and generate seemingly unlimited mass and energy, two-hundred and seventy-one documented experiments were conducted involving the creation of such animated machines. Because of their dangerous nature, all were terminated upon completion of their respective experiments, in addition to the various accidents and undocumented demonstrations in the seventy-two years of S7's operation."

Banachek couldn't see Optimus's solemn expression, but he could hear it in his voice. "I expected as much. Though they were unlike us, it is no less unfortunate. All beings of every manner of life deserve a meaningful existence. However, I cannot find it in myself to hold such acts against your race. You lost as many defending the Allspark as you killed to study it, and together we were able to defeat the Decepticons. It is something that I can forgive, if not forget; but I take it that you did not bring me on this hike to confess something so obvious as this."

"Unfortunately not. But this is what I wanted to show you."

The pair crested the gentle rise of the trail and were treated to an amazing vista of bright Californian mountains that the giant robot paused to appreciate for a moment before continuing down after Banachek. The man paused, not before the extravagant view, but at the foot of a gnarled twist of wood clutching the rocky ground for dear life. Half of the tree was a lifeless white husk, while the other stubbornly thrust out spikes of dark green bristles.

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This is one of the several scenes upon which this entire story is founded. I just discovered that, after five pages, I only have the setup, so it'll be in two parts. Considering that it took me 10 chapters to get out of the first scene and 33 before Jazz's situation was resolved, I can't bring myself to be too unsatisfied.

Boring? I hope not, but maybe. I accept that possibility and will counter it accordingly in the chapters to come. Just sit tight. Think of it as something deceptively mundane that comes before something utterly crazy. Like waiting for toast to pop up.

Timestop is a transforming wristwatch. He's dead now, but he lives on in our hearts.

Oh, and I'm going to the great land of Maine this weekend to see TSO and visit the best friend. So if I don't post again before next week… I'm not dead. I'm dying of hug-induced asphyxiation.

Alright, you can Go. Meaning the button. That says 'Go.' I kill myself sometimes…