Le Legal Stuff: Transformers is not mine, just my OCs. 04/14 article 'Jagex Transformers Universe' has a Decepticon femme called Duststorm. Any similarity is accidental and not intended to infringe.
A/N: A special thank you to 2211Nighthawk and Bee4ever for reviewing! It really means a lot, especially with a long story like this, to read your comments, it's encouraging and helpful! Thank you for taking the time to review!
A/N: Thank you to Shane J. Cash and MaddySan5926 and wolviegal23 for adding this to your favorites! I really appreciate your encouragement and I hope I can continue to write a story you enjoy. And to Shane J. Cash, Br2nd66, Eleanora-Griffindor, MaddySan5926, and mordakthank you for adding this story to your alerts! Again, it means a lot to me, thank you!
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Cybertronian/Earth Time Reference:
Astrosecond/about .273 seconds
Breem / about 8 minutes
Groon/about 1 Earth hour
Orn/about 1 Earth day
Quartex/1 Earth month
Orbital Cycle/about 1 Earth year
Vorn/about 83 Earth years
Chapter 3 – Earth Campaign (Part 35) – Day 7 after the Liberation of Chicago
— Moon Base Alpha —
Before the femme shift change, Elita paced the command center as Kup watched her covertly from his sensor station. Greenlight and Lancer ignored their commander's disconcertment to study the data that scrolled across their station's screens as they prepared to take temporary command. The only Autobot in the center who seemed to be obvious in observing the troubled commander's movements was her first, Chromia.
The blue armored femme leaned back in one of the chairs that surrounded the conference table; her expression was one of amusement.
When they had first occupied the base, the Decepticon command center didn't have a conference table, as there was a dedicated room for meetings. Elita preferred open discussions so Ultra Magnus agreed to reallocate the conference room to quarters and moved the table here. It was a squeeze for the mechs as the table took up most of the open space but the femmes, used to cramped bases on Cybertron, easily adapted.
Said conference room table was littered with pads and plastisheets annotated with various projects, diagrams, and other related data. Elita had been seated at the table earlier but recently vacated her chair to pace. Given the nature of the topic, which was their energon reserves or the lack thereof, the pacing made sense.
Chromia's humor was not because she believed her commander's worry was misplaced. In fact, it was quite the opposite. Had Elita remained seated, it probably would be she who was striding back and forth across what remained of the open floor space. In the end, what Chromia found amusing was seeing a little of herself in her commander's agitation.
She continued to watch Elita as she balanced precariously on two of the four legs of the chair. The seat, like most Decepticon construction, wasn't crafted for longevity or abuse to this scale and creaked ominously. Finally Chromia decided it was time to break the silence and remarked teasingly, "You know, if you keep that up Elita, you'll wear the metal off your pedes."
The statement worked exactly as expected. Elita stopped, turned, and arched a brow already armed with a retort, "Chromia…."
Instead of allowing Elita to reprove her, the femme quickly interrupted smirking slightly, as she shrugged, "Since the discussion was about our dwindling energon reserves, I just thought I'd point out that pacing… decreases our energon supply. Something to think about." She rocked forward and slammed the upraised legs onto the floor as she rose to her pedes.
Elita simply lifted her chin elegantly as Chromia strode up to her.
"Elita," the blue armored femme's merriment vanished, replaced with military professionalism. She tipped her helm towards the newly upgraded science station Lancer was occupying, "Energon shortages are nothing new for us. We've gone through worse and we will find a way around this."
Chromia motioned for Elita to join her as she strode over to Lancer's chair and leaned over the femme to review the data that scrolled across the screen. Lancer quietly pointed out key details on her display.
Elita watched the pair for a moment and then joined them. She too leaned over and examined the same data Lancer pointed out to Chromia. Once she finished analyzing the information she stepped back. Her deep tones despite inner agitation were calm, "Chromia, as much as I approve of optimism, I disagree. True our recent scans are promising but this isn't helpful. This situation is nothing similar to what we've experienced and we must take that into account."
She placed a companionable servo on Chromia's shoulder to take away any sting her first might interpret, "On Cybertron we relied upon the Decepticons and Alpha Trion to provide already processed materials. Here, we must retrieve the materials ourselves and process it. Numbers don't lie. There isn't enough energon for us to do both."
Kup interrupted the meeting, "Excuse me, ma'am. I know it's against protocol for another unit's first to interrupt a meeting, especially with a seasoned commander such as yourself, but there's one fact you've omitted."
Elita tipped her helm to encourage the mech to continue, "Which is?"
Kup smiled, "The Wreckers. Historically, Sentinel's commanders rarely supplied us with adequate reserves because they saw our unit as disposable shock troops for one-way missions. Now, we kinda objected to that idea so we found ways to keep ourselves alive. I'm here as proof."
The comment made the rest of the femmes turn towards the elder soldier to listen. To Kup having this much femme attention wasn't a bother unlike some of the younger mechs, a fact he was rather proud of, as he leaned back in his chair to explain, "We've got many strategies for situations just like this and if you don't mind my saying, Ultra Magnus's plan is a good one. It works. We will find something to convert into fuel. Always have, always will."
As Elita digested the information, she unconsciously placed a fisted servo on her hip. The move tipped her frame into a strikingly seductive pose. Kup's pride, at that moment, was severely dented when his processor stalled for a fraction of a blip before he regained himself enough to catch up with what the commander was saying, "…. Kup, I applaud your confidence and it is true, your presence here is proof of survival."
"However, do your calculations include the supplies we sent off with Sky Lynx and his crew? Also consider, we're undermanned, we have fewer supplies, and we are potentially vulnerable because it requires those of us remaining to work longer shifts. We will suffer fatigue which increases the likelihood of mistakes, such as missing an incursion, mishandling a weapon or ordinance, or simply falling into recharge while on shift."
She paused to wave her hand gracefully, "We must carefully consider all probable scenarios and have options at the ready. I don't want to leave any avenue unexamined and catch us unprepared."
Kup looked away for a moment to chide his processor for getting the best of him and then answered the commander with measured words. He knew from experience it never boded well to earn the ire of a femme, regardless of age or rank, "Of course, ma'am, I expected no less. I'm simply suggesting you might consider placing a little more faith in our experience and in Ultra Magnus. We Wreckers, despite our reputation, are not simple shock troops bent on suicide."
Elita was taken slightly aback at his words and gently reprimanded the ancient mech for assuming she would think of them that way, "Kup, I have never held that opinion of the Wreckers…."
He rubbed his helm apologetically, "Slag, I'm just trying to reassure you. Optimus never treated us this way so I know you wouldn't either."
The femme smiled sadly, "But, I also understand why you said that. The mechs Sentinel assigned to command you did treat your unit that way. Just know that I have the greatest respect and admiration for you, Ultra Magnus, and the Wreckers."
Elita stepped away from Chromia to walk over to the view screen and looked out of the port ignoring her reflection and landscape. Instead she focused on the large blue world hovering on the horizon, "Until we can move forward into the next phase of this operation. My viewpoint is that we need to prepare as if we won't receive supplies or support. That's how I've kept my femmes on-line."
She motioned at the portal, "These regular meetings allow us to avoid becoming complacent. We acknowledge what we know and reassess our strategies. For example, the strategy for escape should the base be overrun. Is the location of the Updraft and our escape tunnel easy to find? Can we improve on that? Is that plan still effective or can we do something better? Then there is the matter of our fuel reserves. Are we doing enough to be economical? We've already begun to modify the base and we continue to upgrade it to make it run more efficiently but can we do more?"
Kup nodded, "Yes ma'am. You and Ultra Magnus have gone over and prepared for pretty much every scenario the 'Cons might throw at us. I'm just thinking you might ease up a little and rely on our planning. Bluntly ma'am? Give it a rest." He pointed to his helm.
When Elita's brow's rose he quickly amended, "Uh, I mean you can trust us. We'll keep our optics and audios open. I haven't lived to this crusty old age by bein' negligent."
Elita pinched her nasal. The move unconsciously reminiscent of Optimus when under pressure and nodded, "Again, true. And, it's a first's job to monitor those under his command as well as his commander. So I thank you for your observations and concern. It proves why you're an excellent first and why your unit doesn't suffer greater casualties."
"That being said, I'm also spending extra time on planning because of the lack of Decepticon activity. Silence like this usually indicates they're planning something big and that has me worried."
"Ah," Kup nodded, "the spark of the matter." He motioned towards Greenlight who was monitoring comms, "I agree. Normally silence like this would suggest imminent attack but I think this time, things are different. They've never lost their entire command before."
The mech leaned back in his seat and stared at the ceiling thoughtfully, "My gut says they've gone to ground."
His optics glanced over at the svelte leader, "I'm sorry to say this commander, but Prime has never been able to defeat Megatron. Stalemate, yes, but never an all-out defeat. So, my theory? They're wondering how he did it. How was Prime able to take out the Decepticon high command, baddest of the bad, with just himself, 8 mechs and a bunch of tiny organics with sub-par technology? Secret weapons? Humans? If I were a 'Con until I knew for certain, I'd run and hide as far away from Prime as possible to avoid being slagged in the mop-up operation likely to come. The only way I'd show my helm again is if there's a bot strong enough to keep me on-line and that ain't gonna happen any time soon. Megatron made sure that any mech capable of commanding like him was off-lined right away to avoid internal trouble."
The mech leaned back in his seat as he subspaced a cygar and popped it into his mouth without lighting it, "Realistically, most 'Con units are comprised of really scared bots just trying to stay alive. Without strong leadership, nothin's gonna happen. That bein' said, we still need to be prepared for those with a cracked engine block but for the most part things should stay quiet. So why not enjoy it? We could certainly use a break."
Elita regarded the pale green mech, "Agreed. However, I personally will not rest until I'm sure the Decepticons are no longer a threat to my femmes. I won't take anything for granted."
Elita motioned to the femmes in the room, "There are too few of us left on-line to risk relaxing our guard even for a breem. Also, there's something else to consider. Believe it or not, being this close to the Prime puts us in even greater danger than when we were on Cybertron."
The femme laughed wryly, "Optimus has always been the focal point for any Decepticon mission, large or small, because they know his demise will cripple the Autobots. I doubt the demise of Megatron and his command will change that fact."
She smiled softly at the mech, "But, I hear what you're saying. I'm not recommending we deny ourselves breaks or rest but simply balance that with what is needed to maintain readiness. And to that end Chromia, would you recap our fuel, weapons and munitions status again?"
Chromia walked back to the command table to pick up her datapad, "We divvied up supplies so Sky Lynx and his team could be ready and prepared for anything. As you know Sky Lynx's mission is to search out minerals and gas deposits for fuel and building materials. So, as long as things stay quiet, we'll experience a minimal decrease in reserves. The foundry and distillery are finished. All that's needed is the raw materials from Sky Lynx to get started."
Lancer turned in her seat, "Elita, the new scanners confirm this solar system has largely been ignored by most space-faring races, so it's relatively untapped. That means there's plenty for the taking, we just have to take it. The only thing we're really lacking is the bot-power to mine and process it all, which is the opposite of what we're used to."
"Alright then, I believe we've covered everything we can," Elita crossed her arms over her chassis and nodded as she looked over at her first, "Chromia, please adjust the roster so our science teams have more time to work on their assigned projects. Remember to include regular combat training; we can't afford to get sloppy. As to the rest of us, we'll take on the bulk of the patrols, be sure to include me in the rotation."
Chromia nodded and pushed her pad over, "Once step ahead of ya 'Lita."
Elita didn't blink as she walked over and picked up the pad to review the data and hummed her approval, "Does anybody have anything else to add?"
Chromia smiled over at Kup and spoke up, "Yes, it looks like our combined units are meshing well. There've been requests from the Wreckers for us to train with them and that includes you, Elita."
The commander's optics widened slightly, "Oh? Why?"
Chromia pointed at the tablet in Elita's servo, "Some of us use unique fighting styles and sharing this knowledge will benefit all of us. I've composed a list of training cycles to accomplish that, if you approve?"
Elita looked down and flicked a digit over the screen to the appropriate file. Although her eyebrow ridges rose her words were sounded pleased, "Interesting. Yes, I approve. Will you port this over to Ultra Magnus and Kup for approval? Once it's given, implement the schedule."
She handed the pad back to Chromia who quickly did as commanded. Elita looked around the room, including Kup, "Anything more?" The femme commander regarded each Cybertronian and as each shook their helm negatively she moved on, "Well, then, we'll leave you to your tasks. Comm us if you need us."
Chromia subspaced her pad and as the two headed for the door asked quietly, "Elita, would you like to look at the foundry before we refuel?"
Elita didn't answer until they were out in the hallway and only until she was sure it was clear of bots, "Actually, no, let's look at the foundry later. What I really want is your unfiltered assessment of our situation."
Chromia motioned her to follow and walked down the corridor to the rec room as she explained, "I said pretty much everything. As to what Kup says about them manufacturing satisfactory energon substitutes, I see no reason to doubt the mech. I think we can trust Sky Lynx's mission will be successful and remedy our fuel shortage if Optimus can't get the okay for us to land and retrieve some of theirs."
They ambled into the empty lounge and up to the dispenser to retrieve their daily ration and then moved over to a table the femmes claimed as their own. Elita smiled, "Well, it looks like there's nothing more to worry about. Oh, you mentioned earlier about the interaction between our two units, how is that really progressing?"
Chromia sipped the fuel and shuddered at the taste, "The problem between Arcee, Springer, and Hot Rod seems to have been resolved. As to the mini-bots, well, they're just like you'd expect them to be, which is generally cantankerous and easily riled. Kup's dealt with most of that by increasing their training, reassignments, like putting them on construction detail or mining."
"Let's see," Chromia placed her pad on the table and with swift digits she flicked at the screen, "Huffer's been a great help with construction of the foundry and the distillery but he's the crankiest of the lot. Frankly, I don't think there's anything we can do that will make that bot happy, so I figure why bother trying. Anyway, the real issue for him is that mechs like Sunstreaker and Hot Rod tend to antagonize him more than the others. So Kup and I have adjusted schedules to make sure Hot Rod and Sunstreaker don't mix with the bot."
"Brawn's got an ego too and that sometimes gets in the way but he's generally a good hardworking mech. Although I strongly recommend we avoid assigning him with Wheeljack on a consistent basis. Between the two, can you say 'BOOM'?"
Elita blinked and then smiled, "Ah, I see. Be sure Flareup's not assigned with them very often either."
Chromia winked, "One step ahead of ya boss. I'm not gonna let my precious charge blow up the place unless there are Decepticons inside."
"Chromia," Elita warned.
The femme smiled back cheekily as she continued, "Brawn and Windcharger have been assigned to Sky Lynx, their talents will be more useful in asteroid mining."
Chromia vented heavily as she leaned back in her seat, "And, that leaves us with Gears. I have never met a mech who complains as much as he does, but I'm starting to think he's doing that because he thinks he's being funny. Odd sense of humor, if you ask me. Thankfully he's not our problem to deal with. Kup's handling the Wreckers and mini's so that leaves us with Wheeljack and Sunstreaker."
"Speaking of, Wheeljack's up to his headfins in projects so I don't expect we'll have much trouble from him. What I'm more concerned about is Sunstreaker. Being this close to his brother has helped but he's still getting really antsy. He's not exactly the nicest of mechs to begin with and this 'enforced separation' is bringing out the worst in him. I don't think there's much we can do except make sure he's scheduled with mechs or femmes who can handle his 'attitude' and that he's part of the first team to join up with Prime."
Elita nodded trusting Chromia's experience with bonds to dictate her first's call as the blue femme finished her report, "Perceptor, Wheeljack, and Sky Lynx have been working really well with Greenlight and Lancer. And as soon as Sky Lynx returns with suitable fuel substitutes we'll get the distillery going. Once we have adequate fuel reserves the foundry will go into production. The first order of business is to create enough material to retrofit the Ark's hull to reinforce it for ship-to-ship combat and atmospheric entry, unless you have a different allocation in mind. All-in-all? Not so bad really."
When Elita's only answer was to nod Chromia leaned forward with a frown, "Okay 'Lita out with it. What's really bugging you?"
Elita blinked back somewhat startled as she shook her helm, "What? Nothing."
Chromia pursed her lips as she shook her helm with disbelief, "Yeah, right. Look, you can talk to me about him you know. I'm not going to break."
"Chromia, really, there is nothing to talk about," Elita shrugged as she finished her cube and rose to her pedes.
Chromia followed unwilling to allow Elita to change the subject, "Well, if you won't say anything I will. For starters you miss him and the fact that he's close enough to touch isn't helping, am I right?"
Elita paused at the dispenser station to clean her cup. She didn't look at her friend as she watched the cleanser swirl around in the container, "Chromia, this is nothing new and since I've waited this long, a few more vorns or so won't make any difference."
When the container was clean she placed it on the rack to dry and exited the lounge to head towards their quarters.
The blue femme stared thoughtfully at the retreating commander and then blinked as she digested all of what Elita had said. She chased after the pink commander exclaiming, "Vorns?! You don't seriously think it'll take that long do you?"
Elita pushed the button to their shared quarters, "No, I was exaggerating a bit. Honestly? What I've been thinking about is whether this is the turning point in the war we've all been praying for or worse, what do we do if it's not."
Inside their quarters, the two femmes prepared for recharge. Chromia looked up from her berth as her commander settled onto hers, "Well, that's why you're the commander not me." She smiled as she rolled onto her abdomen, "Frankly, I'm with Kup. Let's deal with things as they come. In the meantime, at least with the Wreckers we're in a better position than when we were alone on Cybertron."
"Perhaps," Elita responded, "but then the Wreckers are also well-known trouble magnets. But you're right we'll deal with things as they come as long as we're being cautious. Come, the next shift change is soon, we should recharge." With that Elita rolled over onto her side and adjusted her systems to simulate the process as she waited for Chromia's systems shut down.
Once Chromia was in full recharge Elita rolled onto her back and crossed her arms behind her helm. She frowned up at the ceiling but it wasn't the structure itself that annoyed her. What earned her ire was in determining if it was the current situation itself or her spark that was bothering her. Was it a sense of something really big about to happen or simply her feelings for Optimus; as Chromia so eloquently put it, being 'close enough to touch'?
Chromia was also right in observing that Elita did not wish to discuss her innermost feelings because she did feel guilty Optimus was living and Ironhide wasn't. They both knew from the start their mate's occupations would likely mean one or both might perish. But knowing that didn't make the reality of it happening less difficult to deal with.
As a Cybertronian citizen and commander in the Autobot military it was natural for her to be relieved the Prime lived. Without his guidance and leadership their cause and future would be lost under the heels of Decepticon pedes. What worried her more was her personal, emotional, involvement. Was she letting her selfish desires to be with her mate, despite the lack of a bond, override her command responsibilities? It would be a great disappointment to her if she had allowed herself to revert back to her ways before the war.
With a soft snort she reprimanded herself. Not only was she wasting valuable recharge time on unsolvable problems she was using processor space worrying about nonsense and wallowing in youngling emotions.
She chided herself again and focused instead on a comm from Optimus earlier. He'd advised them that Cybertron wasn't destroyed as Ratbat had claimed. It was good news, it meant there was still a chance to figure out how to restore their world and that Alpha Trion might still be alive. This new knowledge eased her spark immensely. She still felt pangs of guilt for abandoning Alpha Trion despite his orders that she do so. She trusted him then and she consoled herself that if he felt it was unsafe to remain he would've left with them.
She rubbed her forehead and realized her processor was still getting the better of her. The best she could do right now for herself and for her unit was to make sure things ran smoothly and pray the humans would allow them to land. If not, then between Optimus, Ultra Magnus and herself they'd come up with an alternate plan to move forward.
Shunting aside her mental gyrations, she ported to her HUD image files of Optimus she liked to view before allowing her processor to activate rest protocols.
Chromia rolled over to regard her friend and commander relieved that Elita had finally given in to recharge. She smiled worriedly at her friend, well aware that their friendship made them overly watchful and protective of the other. It was both an endearing and yet a very annoying aspect to the dynamics of their friendship but that was how they worked. No doubt it was one of the many reasons she was still on line and not chasing after Ironhide's spark into the Well.
Now that she was assured her friend was really resting, she too allowed her recharge protocols to engage.
— Washington D.C., HHS Building - NEST Facility —
However on Earth, instead of resting blissfully Sam awoke bolting upright as he gasped for air. The lingering image of 'the Doctor's' glowing red optics and tiny scalpel legs as they cut into his flesh was so realistic that he took a quick inventory to make sure he wasn't truly cut. He calmed after confirming it was just a dream.
He glanced over to Carly to see if he'd wakened her and thankfully, she was still asleep unaware of his distress. He sighed with relief, grateful she seemed to have been spared the nightmares their 'adventures' with the Decepticons had provoked. Knowing from experience he would not be able to get back to sleep, he carefully slid out of the bed and went straight to the bathroom to shower off his sweat-covered body.
Once the bathroom door closed behind him, Carly sat up and ran her fingers through her sleep tousled hair as she stared at the door thoughtfully. At the beginning of their relationship, their very first night together, Sam had woken up similarly; screaming. When she'd asked him what his dream was about he just shook his head and refused to speak of the episode. Pride, perhaps? All she really knew for certain was that pressing him on the subject made him withdraw from her even more, so she let the matter drop.
Another reason she didn't pursue her concern was due to the discussions she'd had with her brother about the stresses of combat. He'd said that it was quite common for soldiers to react to traumatic events in various ways, nightmares being one of them. She'd never thought to ask how to handle such matters as she'd promised herself she would never get involved with a soldier. Although Sam wasn't a soldier and 'technically' she'd kept her promise what she hadn't counted on was the lengths his dedication to his metallic friends would move him to take.
Surprisingly, it was that loyalty which both annoyed and yet made her love him even more. Truthfully, there were times she resented his devotion to them and how hard he struggled for them but that was who Sam was. He was able to see past their metal 'skin' and got to know them as individuals, living, feeling beings. He cared enough about them that he thought of them as a part of his family.
She smiled wistfully when she remembered their first date and seeing Sam's Camaro for the first time. She hadn't thought it odd, at the time, that he'd named it Bumblebee as many people named their cars. And despite the car's peculiar habit of the radio kicking on, albeit too well timed to be coincidence, she ignored it. Hailing from England where the odd bumps and sounds in the night were common-place to those living in older homes, she'd shrugged it off.
It was odd when Sam suddenly appeared with a beat-up old Datsun, a project car he called it but his excuse made sense. He claimed his Camaro was undergoing a lengthy period of maintenance and he didn't want to waste the money on a rental. Carly shrugged that off as nothing more than male eccentricity regarding cars, Dylan case-in-point. She had to admit the Datsun was cute in its own decrepit way but it lacked a certain something the Camaro had. She wasn't able to put a finger on why and it wasn't a priority at the time; since to her cars were simply modes of necessary transportation.
Things changed when the Camaro was back from maintenance. It was how she discovered it was back that put her off. One does not expect, returning home from a long hard day at work, to see a car parked in one's flat. Bicycles perhaps, but cars?! It didn't help matters that Sam had done so without speaking to her. That decision caused quite a row between them. Sam's explanation was simple and made sense; the Camaro was too big for the garage and if he parked it on the street it could get easily scratched or worse, stolen.
Still, a car in her home?! Sam's insistence went to the point of mulishness and coupled with her adoration for the quirky man, she finally caved. She tried to reassure herself that she really wasn't caving, their neighborhood wasn't the safest place for fancy cars like his and thinking that made her feel slightly better. But only slightly. Sam realized he wasn't entirely out of the doghouse and had used his puppy-dog eyes and quite an amorous apology to make up for the rest. Things were slightly better – except for the fact that there was still a car in her flat.
Her world view would be forever altered that day, when she learned that 'it' wasn't a car after all.
Later that evening she awoke to the sound of Sam's voice talking softly downstairs and an empty bed. As she listened, she easily identified his voice and that he wasn't talking on the phone. She knew this because he was being answered. It was how he was being answered that made her get out of the bed and creep carefully down the stairs bewildered. When she cleared the ceiling she froze. There in the middle of her living room was a giant yellow robot and worse, it saw her.
Her eyes widened in disbelief and then she fled back up the stairs in a panic. She sat on her bed and tried to make sense of what she'd seen. Gratefully the robot hadn't pursued her up the stairs so she sat there on her bed with her arms wrapped around her knees. She was proud of the fact that at least she hadn't screamed.
She hoped Sam would rush upstairs and give her a reasonable explanation. There had to be a reasonable explanation, right? A gas leak in the apartment was giving her hallucinations? Or, maybe it was some new 3-D game software Sam was playing with? There was no such thing as robots, right? A chill settled down her spine when she recalled the nature of their meeting at the White House. She whispered softly to herself in shock, "Was that why the President gave him a medal?" Sam, because of the classified nature of the Autobots, was forbidden to speak of why he received a medal. It was a mystery she'd always wanted to solve and she thought sourly, 'Be careful what you wish for.' Too true that.
Downstairs Bee froze when he saw Carly. As she bolted up the stairs he turned to Sam and made apologetic whines. Sam was confused at first until he realized what had happened. He quickly bolted up the stairs explaining at an impressive speed and would've impressed Blurr had he known the mech, because it was still understandable. The key words Carly finally managed to grasp was that 'it' was safe and not to be afraid.
The shock and subsequent explanation caused her to miss work the following day as she digested everything she'd been told and then actually met 'the car'. It was a challenge, as Bee could only communicate though sound-clips, but he seemed nice. For an alien robot. Who turned into a car that was parked in her flat. That was when she realized how much she really loved Sam because there was no other male on the planet who would've pulled off such a stunt without getting the boot, except for Sam.
Once the 'cat was out of the bag' Wheelie and Brains soon joined their unique community, having recently been evicted by Sam's ex, Mikaela. Over time she accepted them and started to think of them as people… well sort of people, two very tiny weird and perverted robotic people with an odd fetish for women's undergarments. Bumblebee at least was a gentleman when he was around. Which wasn't often and she regretted his absence, mostly because he managed to contain the tiny hellions. Bee did possess a rather large cannon. It was only after she was kidnapped by Dylan and her subsequent rescue by Sam and Bumblebee that her perceptions changed.
As she listened to the hiss of the shower, she puzzled over how to approach Sam about his nightmares. She wanted to help but she wasn't sure how. Thus far she'd simply pretended not to notice in the hopes he would confide in her or until she discovered how to deal with this. She tapped her cheek thoughtfully. Perhaps she should talk to Ratchet or FirstAid, they were doctors and could be relied upon for confidentiality. Maybe they could help despite the lack of similar biology.
Until then she would behave as if nothing was out of the ordinary, for them that is. She grabbed her robe off the foot of the bed and padded out into the living area to the kitchen to heat the water for tea and start the coffee. She looked over at Ellie's closed door and wondered if she should make extra when Wheelie startled her by leaping onto the counter attached to the kitchen island to grouse, "She ain't there."
"Excuse me," Carly pulled back in annoyance. Between the two, she found Wheelie overly crude and she didn't approve of that type of behavior, regardless of origins.
"I said," Wheelie crossed his little arms over his chassis sarcastically, "she ain't there."
"Then where is she," Carly asked tiredly as she busied herself about the kitchen.
"Sleepin' in Bumblebee again. I think you'd better have a talk with that femme, it ain't right for a human to be like that around us."
Carly frowned slightly as she ducked under the counter. Her voice was muffled as she reached into it to retrieve the coffee pot, "What exactly are you inferring?"
"Infer…? I mean she's just getting too close, you know, close. Like romantically," Wheelie made some obscene gestures with his hands and pressed on. "It ain't natural."
"First, ain't is not a word. Use isn't. Second, what Ellie and Bumblebee do is none of your business. And third, if that were true then why did you 'hump' Mikaela's leg if it isn't natural, hmmm," Carly countered mildly as she placed several mugs, a sugar bowl and creamer on a tray and carried that to the dining room table to set it.
"Who told you that?! Well, well… that's different, it didn't mean anything. With us it's different," Wheelie pulled back slightly astonished that she knew and then recovered his usual acerbic tone. "I'm just sayin' you need to talk some sense into her because Bee's too nice to say something."
Carly paused. Her expression clearly reflected the doubt she had in Wheelie's statement, "Wheelie. Bumblebee is quite capable of taking care of himself. I'm sure if he were bothered by Ellie, he'd say something to her."
"No he wouldn't," Wheelie argued, "he's too nice and wouldn't wanna hurt her feelings. That mech's far too soft when it comes to femmes."
With a sigh, she returned to assemble plates, cutlery, and napkins on next tray. Then she artfully placed light breakfast snacks onto one of the plates and murmured tired, "I see. I assume you have discussed this with him then?"
"Well…, no…, but he's a nice kid. So if somethin' isn't said…."
Carly quickly interrupted the tiny mech attempting to end the conversation, "Wheelie. I think it would be best if you minded your own business. However, I must admit it's a relief to see that you actually care for the other bots here other than yourself. So, if it will ease you concern, when the opportunity presents itself I will speak to her about it."
Mollified, Wheelie hopped off the counter and wheeled over to the sofa. Once he was snuggled into the plush cushions he turned on the TV with the sound off. It was another sign that the tiny mech was finally taking to heart their conversations about courtesy. She smiled thinking he was starting to mature into a more socially aware robot… person… mech, whatever.
Carly used the silence to consider Wheelie's words as she set the table. What he implied had shaken her. She'd accepted friendships with the Cybertronians but relationships? Was it possible for a human to fall in love with one of them? How would that even work? The idea was incomprehensible to her as she shook her head and immediately dismissed the very idea. There was a rational explanation for this, she was sure of it, she thought as she set the table.
The trailer door opened quietly and Carly looked up from setting the table as Ellie entered. The brunette was calmly scanning the living area and froze in place, her expression one of shock, when she saw Carly watching her rather curiously. A brilliant scarlet quickly dusted Ellie's cheeks as she stammered, "Uh, Carly, good morning? I wasn't expecting you to be up so early."
"See, just like told ya," Wheelie called out with a very annoying 'I told you so' tone of voice. When both women turned and glared at him he snorted dismissively, "Femmes, whatever."
All ideas of his burgeoning maturity vanished from her mind as Carly walked over to the tiny mech and plucked him off the sofa. She brought him up to eye level and admonished him mildly, "I think you've said enough. Don't you have duties in Ops to attend to? Please, don't let us keep you from them."
She quickly moved up to Ellie with Wheelie dangling from her hand, shouting curses in Cybertronian. With a polite smile the taller woman nodded at the door completely ignored the fuming mini-con and asked Ellie politely, "Would you mind?"
Ellie jumped aside allowing Carly better access to the exit and within moments Wheelie was dropped dismissively onto the deck outside of the trailer. To add insult to injury, Carly leaned over and politely said, "Have a nice day at work Wheelie and we'll see you later. Much later. Like 7. PM. But knock, just in case." Carly quickly closed and locked the door in the tiny mech's face.
Ellie stared in shock at the scene as Wheelie's curses, not entirely muffled by the thin material of the trailer door, were quite graphic and very loud. Needless to say her mouth had fallen open in shock.
Carly, turned to face the woman and behaved as if nothing untoward had happened, "Good morning Ellie. I just made tea and coffee, would you join me?" The tone of voice was polite but had a motherly tone that brooked no argument. This was not a question but a request.
Ellie meekly swallowed and nodded until she realized that Carly was now regarding the blanket and pillow in her arms. Within seconds Ellie quickly opened her bedroom door and tossed the offending material inside. As soon as her door snapped shut she quickly trotted over to the table and sat down to wait.
Carly returned to the kitchen to place the heated beverage carafes onto the tray. As Carly worked Ellie wondered why she was feeling like she'd done something wrong. She hadn't and yet this woman, who she didn't know very well, was making her feel that way. Ellie scowled down at her clasped hands in frustration and then grimaced when she saw the small band covering her wrist port. The reality of her circumstances quickly removed any feelings of guilt she might have had.
Once Carly placed the remaining items onto her tray, she looked up and spoke as one might when discussing the weather, "So, Wheelie tells me you've been sleeping inside of Bumblebee. Is there a problem with your room? If there is, please do say something. Sam and I will gladly change places with you. Ours is fine."
Ellie templed her fingers together as she tried to think of what to say; if she should say anything at all. She glanced again at her wrist port and acknowledged that it was likely Carly might be the only female friend she might have for some time to come.
With that on her mind, she decided upon honesty as it made no sense starting off a potential friendship with lies, "Yes, I have been sleeping in Bee and no, there's nothing wrong with my bedroom. It's more that I'm having a hard time sleeping. I don't feel safe in here… alone… without a bot nearby that I can see. Does that make sense?"
Carly nodded as she moved the coffee and tea to the table and sat down, "Do you prefer tea or coffee?"
"Coffee please," Ellie answered softly as Carly picked up the coffee pot and poured the steaming fragrant liquid into a mug. Then the woman looked up as she set down the carafe, "Cream? Sugar?"
"Both please," Ellie was amazed at how easily Carly, who apparently was close to her in age, could make her feel so self-conscious. It wasn't that Carly was talking down to her, far from it. It was more of a motherly approach that was rather disconcerting as well as unexpected. She'd assumed the blonde was a socialite, used to having things done for her. It made her wonder about Carly's background, who was she, was she part of a large family?
As for Carly, she used the time to prepare the beverages to think about how best to approach the situation. After she poured tea for herself, she offered Ellie a plate of cookies and asked, "Would you like to talk about it?"
The question surprised Ellie as she wondered why Carly would care. She blinked a few times as she considered whether she felt she could confide in the woman. It wasn't like her circle of human friends would be increasing any time soon and she deflated again at the reminder of her new life. She sipped her coffee thoughtfully as she mulled over what to say.
Carly waited patiently as she delicately bit into a biscuit. She didn't mind the pause or the quiet. Since her world had been turned on its ear, she expected Ellie's situation to be similarly jarring. Then there was the emotional context, what if Wheelie was right? She literally had no idea what sort of answer to expect from Ellie, if she felt comfortable speaking at all. Mental images of a romantic liaison between Bumblebee and Ellie made her shake her head scoffing at even considering Wheelie's theory in the first place. Drat the annoying bot for putting such thoughts in her head.
The trailer was silent except for small background noises, the hum of the refrigerator, the ticks and clicks of the building itself, the noises of Sam bustling about in their section of the trailer. Carly looked up when Ellie placed her spoon with a click on the rim of her saucer. As soon as Ellie made eye contact she shrugged, "Well, there's not really much to explain. In Chicago, I'd spent a great deal of time with FirstAid and Duststorm. Gurmit was creeping me out and I took to staying near them as much as he'd let me and then the attack came and we escaped. When we met up with the other bots FirstAid had to work on Optimus so Bumblebee acted as my guardian. I feel as safe around him as I do FirstAid."
Carly nodded, "Certainly understandable. Bumblebee is a very protective and caring robot. But now you're in a very safe facility," Ellie didn't quite understand the odd tone and pause as Carly remembered sourly what Sentinel had done to the place. The blone smiled, "You're safe here, in their med bay surrounded by them. So why would you need to sleep inside of Bumblebee when you know he's parked right outside the trailer?"
Ellie flushed brightly, "Uh, well, that's a good question. I'm not entirely sure. I guess it's kinda how some people use white noise to help them sleep. The bots make a sort of white noise that I find very comforting. The first time I slept in Bee was in Chicago, because it was really cold. I went out like a light, I don't think I've ever slept better."
"Here in the trailer, I couldn't relax so I guess you could say I'm using Bumblebee in a way… Don't worry, I asked him if it was okay and he said it was. I mean sleeping in him, not using him, I mean. Look, I know this is temporary because he's going to be leaving with you guys once the new embassy is ready. I just wanted to enjoy it a little longer. I know it's kinda selfish but there you go." Ellie shrugged as she took a sip of coffee. There was a slight challenge in her posture as she waited for Carly's reproval.
Instead, Carly simply took another sip of her tea cup and then set the cup down. She picked up the plate of cookies to offer Ellie more, to which the young woman gratefully picked up another and set it on her plate.
Neither woman spoke for a bit leading Ellie to believe that that topic of the conversation had ended. She picked up her coffee and took another sip and then sputtered it out when Carly said mildly, "Wheelie believes you're in love with Bumblebee."
Ellie choked on her coffee and she quickly placed the cup onto the saucer, grateful the delicate plate didn't crack under the rough treatment as she frantically grabbed a napkin to cover her mouth. Once her throat was clear of the coffee she asked, her voice hoarse from coughing, "Love?! Wheelie said love?! Why? Did Bee say something?"
Carly wondered at the woman's reaction and then chuckled, "Bumblebee? No. He hasn't said anything to me. As for Wheelie? I think he spends far too much time watching inappropriate sites on the web and TV. He isn't what I would consider the most couth Autobot on base, but all idiosyncrasies aside, his heart is in the right place."
Ellie used her crumpled napkin to blot the spilled coffee on her plate and mumbled, "I… I haven't really spoken much to Wheelie but I'll keep that in mind. He and Brains have decided to take up residence here."
Carly leaned back with a frown, "Oh? Are you sure? I had a hard enough time living with them and I had Sam as a buffer. If you do decide to let them stay, just remember this is your trailer, not theirs. If they step over the line, just ask Optimus to have the mechs stay away."
Ellie nodded but then she remembered Wheelie's comments about the location and why they wanted to stay. Frankly, she didn't have the heart to kick them out, not yet at least. She looked up at Carly, "No, no, it's alright."
Carly simply arched a brow at her but accepted the smaller woman's answer when Sam barreled into the room happily crowing, "Good morning ladies! Anybody interested in a Witwicky breakfast?"
Both women turned and watched Sam with surprise as he busied himself about the kitchen, not really caring what their answers would've been. He muttered happily to himself as he pulled out pans and banged them against the stovetop muttering, "I'm thinking the works. Except for the pancakes. Gotta watch my figure, you know."
To Ellie, it was a much appreciated reprieve from the earlier topic of conversation, she was grateful Carly didn't seem interested in pressing the matter further. Truthfully, she didn't really want to consider the topic herself.
While Ellie's thoughts were turned inward, Carly's were as well although for a completely different reason. Sam's breakfasts were the best but it was what he managed to do to the kitchen in the process that terrified her. The last time he cooked, it took her hours to clean up. She was slightly hopeful it wouldn't be too bad since he decided not to make pancakes.
His pancakes were utterly delicious. Once the batter reached the pan. The problem was not all of the batter ended up in the pan. She still hadn't figured out how he managed to get the stuff on the ceiling. A mystery, she decided was better left alone.
Ellie pushed aside her thoughts about how she felt to watch Sam to Carly. It rather amazed her how this couple, so disparate, worked. Sam could easily fit the stereotypical 20-something urban American boy, far too excited to settle down. While Carly, on the other hand, could easily have stepped off the pages of an elegant fashion magazine or be taken as a notable socialite dressed in British society.
Ellie smiled as she sipped more coffee thinking it was true, opposites do attract, if this couple was an example. Her eyes opened wider when the image of Bee popped into her head. She quickly quashed the idea as Wheelie induced madness. Instead she enjoyed the 'Sam and Carly Show', only partially acknowledging the mess Sam was making. All she knew was that it would eventually need to be cleaned up. But in the meantime, she was very hungry and there was a person happy and willing to make her something that was hot that wasn't a plastic-wrapped sandwich.
The morning progressed merrily as breakfast was quickly made and eaten. The conversation at the table was light and interesting but not too personal. When Carly finally retired to their room to wash up, there was a knock on the trailer's roof. Sam paused clearing the table to dash to the door hiding his fear. When he saw FirstAid peering under the counter he asked with concern, "Decepticons?"
FirstAid knelt beside the door, "Oh no, not at all. I'm so sorry for startling you like that. I was simply curious if Ellie was ready for her morning check-up. If she isn't, just tell her to call out when she's ready."
Sam stepped back to allow Ellie to step outside, "Hey FirstAid! Will you give me a bit to shower up?"
FirstAid nodded and watched as the trailer door closed behind his charge. He looked down at Bumblebee and opened comms, 'How is she doing?'
:'She's still having trouble sleeping.'
:'Hmm, I see. Thank you for telling me. I don't think it's a concern, given the situation. But I'll check her to see if there's something more serious going on. I hope she hasn't been bothering you?'
:'Oh, no, not at all! It really fries my circuits to see them suffer, you know? So I'm glad I can do something to help. I'd do the same for Sam or Carly if they needed it.'
:'I do.'
:'So, how's Duststorm?'
:'Fine, except for a little embarrassment.'
:'Ah, then I'll be sure not to let on that I know what happened last night.'
:'I would be grateful. She's rather touchy about making mistakes. Uh, Bee? Will you be staying by the trailer today?'
:'Yes, Sam and Carly are working on embassy strategies with Dino, I'm included. Why?'
:'Duststorm is staying on base today and I may need to check on her. Will you let me know if you pick up any changes in Ellie's readings?'
:'I will. Is there something wrong with her?'
:'No, no, I'm just being cautious.'
:'Ah, good to hear, I'll run scans and keep you informed if there are any changes.'
FirstAid nodded his helm and rose to his pedes, leaving the cabinet door open. He walked over to the section where the medcomp was located and activated the device. He was just starting to review data when Ratchet walked out of his office said a brief hello as he headed out of the bay.
—◊◊—◊◊—◊◊—
When Ellie finished showering, she dressed and quickly exited the trailer as she shouted to Sam not to worry about the mess that she'd clean it later. She stepped down and walked over to Bee pausing to whisper, "Bee? Thanks for letting me bunk in with you last night, I really appreciate it."
Bee whispered back, "Hey, no problem, any time."
She patted his fender gently and then walked over to the open cabinet door. She peered out and smiled as she recalled a movie she watched as a child called 'The Borrowers' and feeling a little like one herself at the moment. She called out softly, "FirstAid? Are you there? I'm ready."
Within moments the red and white medic knelt down in front of the opening and held out his servo for the young woman to climb onto. As he rose to his feet he asked, "So, how are you feeling this morning?"
"Good," she answered, "how are you?"
The medic set her on the counter next to the folded fabric for her to sit upon while he passed her the lead from the medcomp, "I'm Fine."
"Great! And Duststorm?"
"She's doing well. She had some difficulty transporting some minerals she mined yesterday but otherwise she's fine. She's resting today," FirstAid said as he waited for the link to be established and started the diagnostic.
"Mining?"
The perplexed look on Ellie's face made FirstAid chuckle, "Yes, mining. Technically that's what she is, a miner. Energon is a necessary substance for our race; we use it for fuel and weapons. It comes in various forms, sometimes as a mineral-like substance. So bots like her are specifically upgraded with enhanced sensors and tools to locate and extract it. Optimus asked if she'd be willing to use her skills to locate other minerals and metals that are rare and desired on this world."
Ellie looked at him with a bewildered expression, "Why would he do that?"
The medic waited for the data to start filtering through its medical algorithms, "I believe Optimus is looking for ways to make life easier for us. I assume obtaining these materials will help him do that. I haven't really spoken to him in detail about that."
"Oh. I see. So what exactly did she find yesterday?"
"I believe you call it gold," FirstAid said distractedly as he reviewed the data.
"Ahhhh," Ellie nodded sagely, "now it makes sense. Gold sells at a high price, so I bet he's doing that to have the money he needs to buy what you guys need. Smart."
Ellie drummed her fingers on her thigh as the minutes ticked by. Tired of the silence she asked, "So, how's Duststorm fitting in with the other bots?" Ellie watched the odd glyphs scroll across the medcomp's screen. She turned her head this way and that as she tried to make sense or find order to the symbols that rolled upwards across the raised holoscreen.
FirstAid continued to stare at the glyphs as he answered, "As well as can be expected but we've only been here a few days. It will take time for the others to accept her but the fact that she's willing to contribute should help." FirstAid's comments drifted off as his digits flew over the keyboard.
She caught an odd note to his voice and turned to regard her doctor, "FirstAid? Is there something wrong?"
The medic froze and then looked down at the worried human, "What? Oh no! Nothing is wrong with the data. I was merely reflecting on your keen observations regarding Duststorm and I. You were quite accurate in your assessment of our feelings, more that she or I was willing to admit."
Ellie's face blossomed into a huge grin, "Ah HA! I knew it! And…."
"I am not accustomed to discussing my feelings in such a public location," FirstAid demurred.
The small human blinked as she looked around the empty med bay, "Uh, there's no one here but you and me…."
His helm tipped to the side, "What about Bumblebee, Sam, Carly?"
"Oh," Ellie rubbed her forehead bumping the lead into her nose by accident, "well, yeah, I guess we're not really alone then are we." She sighed as she looked at the lead and the up at the screen, "As long as you two are okay that's all that matters. So, how do I look? Any changes?"
FirstAid motioned for her to remove the lead. Once the cable was retracted into the medcomp's storage port he flicked his digits across the holographic image and broke the data into two screens and quickly paged through the information, "It looks like you're maintaining acceptable levels. Using the medcomp, I can delve deeper than I could with my own diagnostic systems. It's going to take me a few days to run a deeper analysis of your brain activity and see if the core is adequately maintaining your life functions. Once we're sure you're stable, we'll start to examine the nanobots to see if there's a way we can disable the connectivity you have with Cybertronian systems."
Ellie hummed, "Okay…. Is that going to take a long time?"
FirstAid shrugged, "I don't know for certain. However, with Ratchet and Jolt here we should be able to analyze the data more efficiently. Don't give up hope." He placed his servo around her comfortingly, "I promised I would do everything I could to help you and I intend on keeping that promise."
She smiled, "I know. No doubts on my end."
"We're done for now," he said as he rotated his servo for her to hop on, "why don't you return to the trailer and enjoy Sam and Carly's company."
She shook her head, "Maybe later. They're doing embassy stuff. I'll just lay low until they're done. Truthfully? I wouldn't mind having another cup of coffee. I didn't realize how much I'd miss the stuff."
FirstAid's servo hovered for a moment and hummed thoughtfully, "Coffee? That has caffeine in it doesn't it?"
"Yeah," Ellie nodded unconcerned, "why?"
The mech hummed again as he continued to lower his servo to the floor, "Human food is not as consistent chemically as energon. I have to add those variables to my algorithms."
"Huh?" Ellie stopped at the cabinet door, "variables?"
"Nutrients and chemicals in the food and liquids you drink create different systemic reactions that need to be included with my diagnostic work. Don't worry," he chuckled at her distressed expression, "I don't believe I'll be banning coffee from you any time soon."
"Don't scare me like that," Ellie smiled. She paused as her expression grew solemn, "Uhm, if you get bored later or just want company, knock on the trailer okay?"
"I will," FirstAid nodded as he watched Ellie disappear into the darkness under the cabinet. He stood up and regarded the medcomp's data. Without pause he began to list out various food and beverages to analyze their chemical components. As soon as each query was answered, he moved the information into the system's analytical database.
Ellie walked past a silent Bee and quietly entered the trailer. Sam and Carly were seated at the table, cleared of breakfast debris and swamped with tablets and papers. The additional voices of Dino, Wheelie and Brains helped her to conclude they were still meeting. To avoid disturbing the discussion she retired to her room.
Sam noted her arrival distractedly and waved to her as he continued on with his point, "Doing regular news interviews isn't reaching most of the population. So we need to try something different. Maybe even outrageous? Something that'll reach the younger population. Maybe we should consider late night talk shows like Leno, Jon Stewart, Stephen Colbert, Letterman….?"
Carly shook her head, her expression dubious, "Really Sam? Talk shows? That just seems so….."
"I know but it's something to consider because shows like that are popular with the younger demographic," Sam interrupted. "Plus, they're all filmed in New York."
Dino's voice echoed from the tablet speaker, "I'm not certain. Our position here on Earth is a serious one, these shows are more comedic. Do you really think it might help humanity see a more personable side of us?"
Carly shrugged, "Personally? I think it would be a mistake. I find most of these shows to use low-brow humor and given our age, it would make us a joke. Besides, even if we do decide to do this, the bots can't even fit inside most studios?"
"Bumblebee might fit," Dino remarked.
Wheelie muttered over the comms, "Gee thanks, what am I chopped liver?"
Carly huffed, "No but tell me this Wheelie, how long can you go without swearing?"
"It was just the one time," the mini-con complained.
Dino, ignoring the discussion asked, "Bumblebee? How long did Ratchet say it would take for you to be ready?"
Bumblebee quickly opened a private comm before he answered, 'Ratchet, we may need to get me 'fixed' soon. How long sounds feasible.'
:'Can't I even get my first cup of energon without somebot bugging me?!' The medic grumbled at one of the tables in the rec room as he sipped his ration of energon, 'With three medics, no waiting, I'd say a day or two. Are you ready for this?'
:'Being able to talk again? Publicly?! Heck yeah! Being an ambassador? No! But, if it's what Optimus needs me to do, then I'll gladly do it.'
:'Alright. Tell 'em one day. Tomorrow morning you'll be 'cured'. I'll inform Optimus. Out.'
Bumblebee sent a texted his comm to the meeting participants, 'Ratchet says a day.'
Sam nodded, "Great! So, what we need to do is find out how hard it is to get onto one of these shows and how quickly we can do this."
He looked at Carly to see if she had anything to add. She simply rolled her eyes at him and then shook her head accepting the inevitable. Sam smiled at her, "Okay Wheelie, have Brains start calling the shows and see what it takes to get a slot. Now, next order of business, the embassy. Mearing says we've got another two and a half weeks before it's ready for habitation so we'll be staying here…."
—◊◊—◊◊—◊◊—
Optimus sat in his small office when his internal comms pinged to announce an incoming phone call from Director Mearing. He lightly tapped the exterior of his helm, it wasn't a necessary action as he could simply activate the comms via his HUD but it was a useful habit, "Director Mearing, what can I do for you today?"
"Optimus. I just left the White House. Believe it or not they've given us the go-ahead to use the Yucca Mountain nuclear waste repository…."
His optics flashed with hope, "That is rather unexpected but welcome news to hear. Was there a reason given?"
"Not to me," she answered, "I've a few ideas why but right now? Let's not look a gift horse in the mouth and move on this before they change their minds."
Optimus did a quick web search on the phrase and then shook his head bemused, "Understood. Did they also authorize the rest of my people to land?"
"Not yet," her tone was hopeful, "but there wasn't a firm 'no' either. I'll have Francine send you the information on the Yucca site. Draw up plans for your base. I'd like you to list out what materials you'll be needing, bots, construction equipment, and how long you think it'll take before it's functional…."
Optimus quickly interrupted, "Do I assume this is to be a joint base with NEST?"
"Of course, and Prime? I want you to send the Wreckers and the twins to the site. In fact, the fewer bots staying in D.C. the better."
Optimus closed his optics knowing how well the director got along with the bots in question. He opened his optics again to scan his desk and picked up a datapad, "How soon will you need this information?" As he waited for her response he began to write out supply lists and noted the file Mearing said Francine would send arrived.
"Yesterday," she replied with a dry chuckle, "I assumed you'd want to personally check out the facility so I've made arrangements to leave later today. We'll be flying into Creech Air Force Base since the Yucca site doesn't have a suitable landing strip… yet. Don't load up the plane with unnecessary bots, keep the party small. Be ready to go when I get there." The call ended abruptly, which didn't offend the Prime as he was used to Mearing's leadership style.
Optimus set the pad down and frowned up at the ceiling for a moment before he opened a general comm, 'This is Prime. Everyone, meet me in the training area in 1 breem. We've been granted authorization for a base in Nevada.'
—◊◊—◊◊—◊◊—
Initially, expanding the Autobot portion of the NEST site in D.C. had been refused but the nature of their mission required them to have places to train and store their rather over-sized weaponry. The NEST facility, ground level, no longer had space to expand. So, grudgingly Washington acquiesced and gave the JCS the authorization to expand.
With the help of the Cybertronians, a large level underneath the main base was built. It boasted a storage locker, armory, munitions fabrication room with reinforced walls, sparing room, brig, firing range, and small training area. The training area was created to look like a mock city, a human-sized city given the location and space limitations.
In the training area, the Autobots assembled and milled about as they waited for the Prime to join them. Optimus didn't give them long to wait as he strode quickly into the open 'street' in front of the mock city and raised his servos for quiet.
His bass voice echoed in the large chamber, "I'll be leaving shortly with Director Mearing to see the Yucca Mountain site in Nevada. Its original purpose was for nuclear waste storage and work had already begun before it was decommissioned. We'll build off what they started and go from there."
With a raised servo to his helm, Optimus projected a rough layout of the topography of the region and the site itself as was sent to him by Francine, "This is what we're going to be working with." He quickly added another layer, "And this is what I hope to build out to. We're going to construct a multi-levelled base…."
Roadbuster quickly interrupted the Prime, "For how many bots?"
Optimus regarded his fellows, "If we acquire our own materials and manage excavation on our own, we will build a standard Autobot base."
The room fell quiet as the implications of the size of such an undertaking. Optimus nodded, "Like here, we will be working jointly with NEST, so we'll need to build an area for the humans. Like here, I want there to be a separate section for us to move about freely without concern for human safety."
Optimus continued to explain, "The Yucca site affords us the ability to expand because it's on undeveloped land. We won't be hampered by human sewer lines, electrical, and other subterranean cabling human habitation requires. Our only concern will be stability, and security. I think we've done enough construction to handle any pitfalls this planet may offer easily."
Optimus quickly disengaged the holographic display, "Director Mearing wants half of our unit to transfer to the site. But that won't happen until it's capable of housing that many bots and humans adequately. So right now I'll authorize the relocation of the Wreckers, the twins Skids and Mudflap, and Jolt."
Before Sideswipe could ask Optimus added, "Director Mearing was not able to obtain permission for our people to land, but she also said it wasn't an outright no either. I believe D.C. will eventually acquiesce and once they do, I'll reassign all of the Wreckers to the Yucca site…."
Wheelie, ever annoying, barked out, "Yuck-a? Come on Prime, we've gotta come up with a better name than that? What about Autobot City?"
Optimus shook his head, "As comforting as that sounds, I believe such a name would make the humans nervous. We'll simply refer to it as the Nevada NEST site or Yucca Mountain Site."
"That sucks," Wheelie grumbled.
Mudflap gently kicked the little mech, "At least yer not goin' shorty."
Before the two could get into a 'discussion' Roadbuster placed his large pede between the two and slapped Mudflap against his helm, "Shut it and let the Prime finish." What surprised everyone was that both Wheelie and Mudflap nodded.
Optimus ignored the brief disruption and continued with his briefing, "Our bigger challenge is acquiring sufficient fuel and construction materials. Fabricate what you can with what we have. In the meantime I'm working on making us financially independent so we can purchase anything the U.S. refuses to purchase for us. That is all. Dismissed."
Dino stood up, "Excuse me Prime, may I speak?"
Optimus nodded as those mechs who'd turned to leave returned, "Go ahead."
"It seems odd that the U.S. government would authorize such a site so quickly. Two bases? It doesn't make sense."
Optimus nodded, "Actually, it does. Strategically speaking, placing us in one location makes us an excellent target to control or attack if they wished to move against us. This base is not suited for such a strike because it's too close to their central governmental offices and population centers to risk a direct assault. The Yucca Mountain site is not. It's situated near one of their military test ranges, is far from large human habitations, and isn't located to major traffic arteries. It's an ideal target."
Sideswipe frowned, "So in essence, we're willingly moving into a base that has a giant red 'x' marked on it. Excuse me for saying this Prime but it's not like you to let us walk into a trap like that!"
Optimus switched to Cybertronian. To allay suspicions, most of the human surveillance systems had been left in place and this was a conversation he did not want them to know about, "To the humans, yes. However, the nature of the landscape coupled with our knowledge of construction makes any facility we build impervious to any attack the humans could throw at us. And should the Decepticons recover, I would rather they strike us there and not here. I do not want any more human casualties as a result of our war. In the desert we will be able to maneuver and fight to the level we were accustomed to on Cybertron, and won't be hampered by humans and their buildings. True, there is a lack of cover but at least we won't have to worry about the damage caused if we were attacked here in D.C."
"There is also the added ability to expand underground, such as adding an underground hangar. We have a cloaked vessel and may have need of that ability. An underground hangar would allow us that option."
"Yer talking a mighty big hole in the ground to park a ship," Leadfoot remarked.
"True," Optimus nodded, "but the humans haven't been exposed to the full extent of our holographic technology either. Once we establish sufficient fuel reserves, we can easily create a holographic shield to cover the entry."
Optimus regarded all of the bots positioned within the chamber. With confidence he said, "I realize this will take time but I believe we can do this. Does anyone have any other questions?" He looked carefully at each bot and when he was sure he nodded, "Dismissed."
Optimus watched as all of the bots filed out of the room except for Sideswipe who rolled up to him, "So it's still a no, huh? Look, we've got a ship that can be cloaked… can't we just sneak him down?"
Optimus sighed, "We could, but then it would be a little hard to explain the sudden appearance of a new bot, don't you think?"
Sideswipe snorted, "Yeah, I know, but I had to ask."
"Of course, it is understandable," Optimus said as he gently nudged Sideswipe to follow him. "Oh, I've been meaning to speak with you. I found out what you did and I must admit it was rather… ingenious. Filling the air bags in Director Galloway's limousine with microscopic phosphorescent powder? I'm sure you were quite amused, as no doubt were the humans who helped you do this. However, Director Galloway was not. Especially when he realized the particles were fine enough to penetrate his clothing and coated his body. Moreso, when he realized it would not wash off immediately. I believe he said he glowed in the dark for a week."
Sideswipe felt Prime's fingers tighten on his shoulder armor and winced as the Prime continued, "I realize Director Galloway is a distasteful individual but we must put up with him. So avoid aggravating the man further. He does have a great deal of power within the U.S. government and until we are no longer under his or his government's control, let's avoid trouble shall we?"
The pressure increased a little more which made Sideswipe wince and nod, "Yes, sir. No more pranks."
"Good. Now how is the research going?" Optimus released the silvery mech as they continued up the ramp to the main level.
"Ah," Sideswipe smiled, "I have to admit, it's rather fun. I've set us up several different accounts. It seems there are some nations who don't mind you depositing your money with them and they don't ask many questions."
"Dare I ask if they're legal?"
"Of course they're legal," Sideswipe put a servo to his chassis offended, "when you're talking about our money, 'Cybertronian' money, that's gotta be above board. You didn't say anything about my own stuff."
Optimus froze and then shook his head after a gusty vent, "Keep your personal stuff legal too. I don't have any idea what the humans would do to you. I suppose they could incarcerate you by storing you in vehicle mode in a shipping crate…." Optimus smiled as the frontliner visibly shuddered and then added, "All I ask is that you don't take a personal interest in hacking, abusing or otherwise causing electronic mischief. Especially for Director Galloway."
Sideswipe muttered softly, "Take all the fun out of life why don't ya."
Optimus pinched his nasal, "You did, didn't you."
"Well….."
Optimus vented and then ordered tiredly, "Fix whatever you've done and do it quickly or I may rethink allowing your brother to land when authorization is given. GO!"
Optimus hated using that tact on his troops but sometimes it was necessary as he watched the frontliner zip hurriedly away. Still, he worried if that was enough to make Sideswipe undo whatever he'd done. The mech was rather helmstrong. The weary Prime paused in between levels to lean against the wall and muttered, "Sentinel picked a lousy time to off-line you Ironhide."
A shadow separated itself from the lower level, "He did have a way of managing twins, didn't he."
Optimus looked up and acknowledged Ratchet's arrival with a nod, "Sometimes. I'm lucky Sunstreaker is on the moon, I shudder to think of what those two might invent to torture Galloway."
Ratchet leaned against the wall, "Can you blame him? The man does tend to bring it on himself."
Optimus shrugged making the metal of his shoulder armor scrape against the wall softly, "True, but we're stuck with him until the next election and hopefully he'll be replaced."
"You realize that's about five of their orbital cycles," Ratchet pointed out grimly.
"Yes, every breem of every orn," Optimus muttered, "I'm just grateful Director Mearing is easier to work with. Speaking of, would you like to join me to check out the Yucca site?"
Ratchet shook his helm, "No, I'm supposed to be 'fixing' Bumblebee today. I trust you'll include a real med bay." Ratchet looked off wistfully, "A real mech-sized med bay."
"Of course," Optimus nodded, "we haven't had one since Cybertron it'll be a nice change."
Ratchet nodded as he motioned for the Prime to join him, "So, then the plan is we stay here until we figure out how to revive Cybertron… if that's even possible?"
Optimus nodded, "It doesn't make any sense to move locations, not with Decepticons still on Earth. I can't leave the humans vulnerable to further attack and I can't ask those bots in-bound to change direction again with fuel being so scarce. So no, this is where we will stand."
"That sounded grim," Ratchet commented as they reached the top level.
Optimus's helm lowered, "It does, doesn't it. Alright, let me try again. Earth is a perfect remobilization site."
Ratchet shrugged, "Better. Now we just have to figure out what we're going to do about Cybertron without the AllSpark."
"Ratchet," Optimus shook his helm wearily, "I am Prime, not Primus."
The medic gently tapped Optimus's chassis, "No you're not but with that thing inside you, you are one step closer than the rest of us. Has it given you anything to work with?"
Optimus vented again, "No. If I could attribute anything to it, I would say it feels like it's waiting for something. What that is? I have no idea. So, I do what I've always done and work with what I have. As for you, why don't you go 'fix' Bumblebee while I go view a potential future for us." Optimus patted the medic's shoulder as Ratchet knocked on the med bay door.
"Have fun," Ratchet called out as Optimus strode away earning a shake of the Prime's helm as an answer. Then Ratchet opened the door and called out feeling slightly whimsical, "Lucy I'm home!"
FirstAid looked, "Who's Lucy?"
Ratchet snorted with laughter, "Never mind."
A/N: I hope this was an interesting read. The chapters will take a little longer to produce but with school now in full-swing I might have more free time to write. YAY! Please review and let me know what you think! Thanks for reading and apologies for grammatical… heck any errors!.