Rated: M for adult themes: language, violence, mental rape, character death, mech erotica, torture, gore, and suicidal ideation. This varies from chapter to chapter, so read at your own risk.

Important Note: I started this series of fics before Revenge of the Fallen hit the theaters. This is an A.U. 2007 movie verse fic, NOT a ROTF/DOTM/AE/LK/BB or whatever follows fic.

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

XxxX

Full Velocity: Finding Salvation

Chapter 18: Feliformia

XxxX

The flat POP POP of gunshots echoed throughout the empty corridors. It took several seconds before the shouts of men and the thunder of massive robots running towards him created a chaotic cacophony. Simmons leaned against the wall, his legs shaking from abuse and adrenaline, but he managed to keep the pistol trained on Smith.

The other man glared daggers but did not move, keeping his hands in view as a massive goose egg bloomed on his head.

As the first of the rangers rounded the corner, Simmons slid down the wall and unceremoniously landed on his butt. The adrenaline rush dissipating, leaving him shaky and with the beginnings of a zinger of a headache. Yet, he still thought and planned like a covert operative.

"What the hell?" snapped Lennox, his hand resting on his own weapon but keeping it pointed downward.

"What happened?" thundered a deep voice. All eyes turned upwards towards the Autobot leader. His formidable mass towered over them.

Between ragged breaths, Simmons explained. "Sira confronted Agent Smith about stealing some of her property, and Agent Smith attacked her. When she started to get the better of him, he tried to shoot her.

"Prime, you better go check on your girl. Smith injured her in the fight, and she ran off. Down the corridor and to the left."

The massive Autobot glanced around the scene, a deep frown twisting his facial plates downward. For several seconds the Cybertronian appeared indecisive before he carefully stepped past them and ran down the corridor.

"Sir, shall I assist the Prime?" one of the soldiers asked.

"No," shouted Simmons. "Let him handle it."

Lennox pointed to Smith, and the soldiers aimed their weapons towards him. "Don't move."

"She is a freak! She isn't human!" screeched Smith, his face contorted with ugly rage.

Walking towards Simmons, Lennox called over his shoulder, "I know."

"She is a monster!"

Addressing his men, the Captain ordered, "If he continues, gag him." Then focused on Simmons. "Put the gun down."

Reggie forgot he had it in his hand. Triggering the release, he dropped the magazine to the floor and pulled the slide to eject the chambered round. Then, laying the weapon down, he pulled his knees up and rested his forearms on them.

Several more people appeared, along with the perpetually chipper Wheeljack. Simmons moaned as the audience grew.

Lennox bent and retrieved the Glock, then pocketed the magazine and loose bullet. "You're injured." Squatting next to him, the Captain pulled shredded fabric away from a wound and assessed the damage.

Simmons winced as Lennox examined him. "Sira had a knife, I was trying to stop her, and we went down together. She accidentally got me." He unflinchingly stared at the Captain as the lies rolled off his tongue.

"Bullshit," Lennox whispered. "These aren't knife wounds, not in parallel rows like that. What really happened?"

"Plausible deniability," Simmons breathed, barely moving his mouth.

The two men stared at each other; a silent understanding flowed between them. Then, Lennox turned. "Confine Smith to an empty room until we get this sorted out. I want a guard at his door."

"We need to get Agent Simmons to medbay." Ratchet directed as he trotted down the hallway.

XxxX

::Ironhide, seal the base. No one in or out for any reason:: Optimus called over his communication channel.

He followed Simmons's directions and immediately found a blood-smeared shirt. Plucking it from the floor, he noticed the garment bore long tears as if ripped from Sira's body. The creep of fear slinked along his spinal assembly. He knew the damage human weapons could do to an organic body.

Standing, the Prime slowly walked further along the corridor, his optics seeking the slightest drop of red against the pale gray. He found jeans and female undergarments at the next juncture, all torn but less marked with blood. Guided by the intermittent blood trail, Optimus followed an erratic path through the base. Every red drop weighed on his spark.

With only his ped falls to keep him company, the Prime's thoughts threatened to turn against him. Sira did not head directly for her quarters or the medbay. Instead, she stayed along lesser-used hallways and frequently changed directions. He knew of Agent Smith's advances towards Sira but had not become involved in the matter. He wondered if rejection fueled the male's violence; perhaps he should have been more attentive to the mating rituals of organics.

He knew Smith had reported their business activities to Washington. A concern most certainly, but they doubted they could keep the secret for long and already prepared. Never did he consider Smith becoming violent and attacking anyone. Grounding his dental plates, Optimus feared his inattention to the storm brewing around him led to those under his protection being harmed.

The red drops became smaller and more scattered, making it harder to follow her path. If she stopped bleeding, he might not be able to find her. The infrequent smudges meant maybe her injuries were not severe. So, he hoped, a dangerous thing to do, yet he could not help it.

Stopping in a four-way, Optimus carefully examined each potential path. Then he saw her. Head hung downward, Sira paced in a circle on four clawed paws. A strange repeating series of chuffs and growls flowed from her, and it took the Prime an earth second to realize she was talking to herself in a language he had never heard.

He cycled his vents, relieved to not find her dead in an empty hallway. The sound alerted her to his presence. Immediately, she crouched, her legs beneath her. Curled against the corner of a door frame and a door, Sira watched him intently with inhuman eyes. Those brilliant emerald eyes he had seen before and the only part of her he recognized. The Prime realized this was Sira's true form, not a mask she hid behind.

Stepping slowly, the Prime approached the beast. "Sira," he stated.

Triangular ears laid back against the leonine head, disappearing into the thick mane that ran down Sira's neck and shoulders. She did not growl, hiss, or snarl. Instead, she only watched him, muscles tensing beneath red fur.

"Sira," Optimus repeated, his voice soft, barely audible. He stopped and knelt in the corridor. Bending forward, he offered his hand to her.

Her ears perked forward, flipping pointed tufts of fur with the movement. She did not move but shifted her position. Then, glancing away, she sighed.

Optimus searched the feline. Delicate dark and light markings accented her face like a mask. Dried blood caked the triangular nose and across her mouth. Above the blood, the swollen flesh around her eye nearly obscured her vision. From where he stood, he could see a tear along her side, the burnt and raw path of a bullet. Cold rage crackled in his electrical field, and he had to pull it back before Sira noticed. Later, he and Agent Smith would have a chat, but first he needed to get Sira to medical.

"Please. You are injured." Optimus stretched towards the panther, encouraging her to come to him.

Sira slowly and stiffly stood on two legs; her short tail flicked rapidly. "Simmons. I hurt Simmons." The feline mouth slurred her words and made her speech halting and oddly accented. Then, hanging her head, the long, red mane hid her face from him.

Cycling his vents, Optimus weighed his options and decided on honesty. "Yes. Simmons was injured, but did you mean to hurt him?"

The beast shook her head side to side. "No. An accident." Sira raised her head, and wet lines matted the fur on her cheeks. "Sorry." Turning, she ran. Dropping to four legs, she sprinted away on silent paws.

A diesel engine rumbled in frustration, and Optimus yanked his hand back. "You're not going anywhere," he snapped.

She did not listen and continued bounding further away.

Frustration rumbled through him. The Prime stood and raced after her. She might be fast, but he had a longer stride and reach. Tired of the organic femme's stubbornness, he scooped her up.

Giving a startled yowl, Sira twisted in his hand. She pressed against his fingers trying for escape

"Stop it," he ordered, and immediately she stilled. Opening his hands, he saw her curled against his palm, fresh blood oozing from the ragged wound on her side.

"I failed you," she whispered, not looking at him.

Cradling her in his palm, he brought the cat near his face. "You have not failed me. You have surprised me, but you have not failed me."

Up close, Optimus noticed the thick fur and the way muscle rippled beneath it. He saw the tips of fangs long enough to catch the light, even when she closed her mouth. Mahogany striped the lower portion of her legs. He stood amazed at the way the living bone, muscle, and sinew had reshaped itself into a sleeker, more powerful form.

Anguished filled forest green eyes, and she pulled her lips back in disgust. "I lost control. Simmons tried to stop me." She began sobbing, all the shame falling out of her as tears.

"I do not believe Agent Simmons could have kept you from killing Agent Smith." Optimus felt the truth in those words in his spark. He didn't know if she lost control and regained it or never really lost control. All that mattered was her final decision to let Smith live.

He reached out his other hand to touch her and hesitated inches away. Sira closed the distance between them. Soft, warm fur rubbed against his fingertips as she pressed herself against him. Now, so much about her made sense. He understood her hesitancy around people and need to remain aloof and hidden, the lonely solitude she kept herself locked in. She did not act out of arrogance or indifference; she remained alone to avoid hurting others. Sira feared what she could do as much as she feared what others could do to her. Optimus wished he could weep for her.

Cupping both hands around her, Optimus pulled the woman to his chest. "You are no more an animal than I." He stroked her head and back, the fur tickling the tactile sensors on his fingers. "You need to see Ratchet."

XxxX

"Would you like an update?" Ratchet asked and set a couple of cubes of energon between them.

"How is everyone?" Optimus asked.

The medic took a seat opposite his commander. "Everyone will live. Agent Simmons's wounds are superficial and should heal on their own. Agent Smith is surprisingly uninjured. Speaking of Agent Smith, are you going to leave him imprisoned until they come and get him?"

"Yes."

The medic shook his head. "I am not sure this is humane treatment. "

"The - man - has been given food and water. He has a bed, toilet facilities, and clothing. His basic needs have been met." The Autobot commander picked up a cube of Lamborghini made high grade. Holding it to the light, Optimus peered into the swirling liquid. "How is Sira?"

"I think the human phrase 'dead to the world' is applicable. It appears that she uses inordinate amounts of energy to change her form, and doing so twice in one day has left her completely drained. Her injuries are numerous, but none are life-threatening. Bruising, broken nose, split lip, two broken ribs, a superficial flesh wound from a bullet. We are fragging lucky Agent Smith didn't get a better shot; Sira might not have survived."

Optimus took a sip from his cube. Each mech became lost in the melancholy swirl of high grade.

Finally, Ratchet spoke. "What did Secretary Keller say?"

Prime waved his hand dismissively. "He apologized for Smith's actions and referenced a future meeting. I believe the government is concerned that we may cut off all negotiations or even retaliate because of this debacle. I do not know what I will do about all of this. I want to keep her abilities a secret, but Simmons and Smith both witnessed her change.

"Simmons is afraid she will become an experiment if the government learns of what she can do," Ratchet offered and drained half his cube.

"As am I." The Autobot leader sighed over his drink. "I now understand her hesitancy to trust anyone."

"When I asked Simmons about Sira's other form, he acted as if he did not know what I was talking about. Said he did not see an 'oversized, fuzzy, pussy cat try to eat Smith.' Then he winked at me." The medic quirked a brow arch at the Prime.

Optimus stared at the CMO, this processor whirring rapidly. "That is informative," he finally responded.

XxxX.

Author's Notes: Sorry for the delayed update; it has been a heck of a week.

d8rkforcen1ght7 : Yes, I have changed quite a few things, things that always bothered me as this progressed to more than just a drabble. I will admit, Simmons is my favorite human character in the franchise.

Saraceaser: Thank you. Sira is a hot mess and lacks social skills. Smith is a nasty piece of work. If I get around to doing what I want to do, we will see him again.

TomRiddlesTwin I would love to see the Smiths of the world receive their comeuppance, sadly, that rarely happens. So, they receive it here.