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 28: Moments
XxxX
It only took a moment to shatter the quiet serenity of the Autobot base. Only a moment for Ironhide's message to turned everything upside down.
The deep baritone thundered through the halls as Optimus Prime barked orders to his mechs. When he raised his voice, Sira felt the sound reverberate through her frame.
Prime took only a moment to go from the patient, gentle-natured leader to supreme commander and battle-hardened warrior. It was a moment Sira would never forget.
Optimus took her chin in his hand and leaned down; scant inches separated his face from her. Blue optics burned with a fierceness she had not witnessed before. "You are not to leave this base for any reason. No matter what occurs, you will stay here, where you will be safe." The forceful rumble behind his words left no room to question him.
Sira nodded in acquiescence, fearful of the violent power swirling around the Prime.
The massive Autobot stared at her for the length of a human heartbeat. The Prime appeared to want to speak before his facial plates tightened and he left.
Alone, she did not know what to do, how to help, or even to act. Instead, Sira stood inside of the doorway of Prime's office, a place she could watch without getting in the way. A disconcerting flurry of activity surrounding her. The hair rising hum of alien weaponry charging underscored the pounding footfalls and the orders shouted in a mix of Cybertronian and English.
Within moments the chaos vanished with the Autobots, and a hollow silence fell on the base like dust after an August windstorm. It clung heavily to every surface and dared anyone to try and violate the muffled quiet.
Sira stepped into the hallway and turned towards the descending platform. Empty. Above, the dull thud of the heavy blast doors slamming closed echoed through the walls and into the floor. Prime had locked her in. Anxiety tightened around her chest. While not claustrophobic per se, the thought of being locked away didn't sit well, even if for her protection. Locked in did not feel much different than locked up. She shuttered her optics and swallowed the rising panic, telling herself the Autobots would return. Locks would disengage, the lift would take her to the surface, and her freedom would be restored; this would be temporary, akin to locking the doors at night.
Stealing herself with the promise of temporary, Sira opened her optic shutters and paced the corridors. A quiet cough drifted towards her, and she looked downwards. Two humans stared expectedly at her. Sira took an involuntary step away from Sam and Mikaela, their tininess startled her. Living dolls, created from materials more fragile than fine bone china. Once, she had been that small and delicate. Gods, no wonder the 'Bots fretted about their humans so much.
Two sets of eyes stared expectantly at her. Curiosity, awe, and something indefinable filled the faces of the humans.
Sira took another step backward, clueless about what to say to them. What could she say? Her own fear choked her words. She lacked weapons, so she could not defend them. She could barely walk, so she feared falling or tripping on one of them. Shit, she did not even know what to say to them. She could not be responsible for them, did not want to be responsible for them. Turning abruptly, Sira stomped off, leaving the humans standing alone in the echoing hallway.
XxxX.
It took only a moment for terror to catch Tranquility in its clawed grasp.
A school bus sat in pieces, ripped in half, and left on both sides of the highway. Vinyl seats and forgotten papers were scattered along the roadway. Fortunately, the vehicle was empty when caught in the explosion. Other cars clogged the area, burnt husks of minivans, coupes, and trucks. Some abandoned and some charred and blackened, their burned drivers still clutching the steering wheels. The survivors stumbled blindly away from the battle, caked in dust or blood, dragging, or being dragged by loved ones and strangers. Screams and curses filled the air between gunshots or the bone-shaking womph of Cybertronian weapon.
The battle did not rage for hours. The Autobots did not pursue the enemy when the Decepticons rapidly retreated. The confrontation lasted only a few moments, but the damage had been done. The Autobots were exposed to the world, unable to hide any longer.
"Prime, I think we need to leave." Ironhide pointed out the obvious, his cannons still humming for something to shoot.
Optimus glanced at the chaos and destruction around him. Humans cowered and panicked. The handful of brave or stupid began holding up their phones and snapping pictures. Frustration rumbled from his engine. "I agree."
Strolling towards the twins, Optimus needed to triage Sideswipe, assess how to stabilize the warrior and return him to base. "Sunstreaker, may I look at him?" He could have ordered the other mech to step aside, but that would only create unneeded animosity.
For his part, Sunstreaker glared an unspoken warning but allowed the Prime to approach.
Kneeling next to the injured Autobot, Optimus began assessing the damage. Sides' suffered a grievous injury. Moving quickly, he tied off leaking hoses and ripped away plates digging into deeper mechanics.
"We were set up," Sunstreaker mumbled. "I think the 'Cons wanted to test our defenses. Now they know how few of us there are."
Without looking up, Optimus grunted. "Yes, and we cannot hide from the humans anymore. Look around; there are hundreds of witnesses. The government covered up the battle at Mission City, but rumors still circulated. Now, it will be impossible to do that." He looked towards Sunny. "We need to get him to Rachet."
XxxX
Wheeljack returned first, far ahead of the others. Before the lift finished its descent, the scientist jumped off. His long legs sprinting to the lab, an oddly shaped device cradled in his hands.
Sira followed at a slower pace, uncertain but curious. As she neared, the doors of the lab slammed closed, and a magenta-pink light flashed its warning. A clear message Wheeljack did not want any interruption.
With nothing else to occupy her, Sira turned away. She walked towards the entrance, intent on waiting for the others to arrive. Slipping into Central Ops, the femme found an oversized chair to curl into. From here, she could watch the rotunda through the thick glass and in relative comfort.
The dais descended again. Sideswipe lay draped over the Prime's arms. Energon slowly dripped from a wound on his side. Sunstreaker crowded Optimus, focused on his brother. As the dais came to a rest, Optimus carefully stepped off and headed towards the medbay.
Sira uncurled from the chair. Leaving Central Ops, she trailed behind, bringing up the end of the entourage. Uncertain why she followed, the femme stayed far behind, inconspicuous and innocuous. Even from this distance, the swirl of volatile emotions crackled and zapped in unseen waves. Barely contained rage pulsed cold and sharp, slowed her steps, and widened her distance from the group.
The assembled mechs disappeared into medbay, the doors closed, and separated the femme from the group. Muffled shouts carried through thick walls, causing Sira to stop and seek the shelter of a perpendicular hallway. Peek around a corner, she could see the medbay entrance but remain out of the line of fire.
Within seconds the doors parted. A yellow tangle of swinging limbs and galactic profanity tumbled out of the opening, swiftly followed by Optimus Prime.
"You were told to leave the med bay and assist the others topside," Optimus rumbled threateningly. "I understand you are concerned for your brother, and once we know the base is secured, you can return to him. Also, you know I will not accept that level of insubordination. Choose wisely, Sunstreaker." Crossing his arms over his chest, the Prime stared silently at the mech picking himself up from the floor.
Sunstreaker remained quiet, glaring at the Prime. Then, the warrior turned and headed towards Sira, his peds clanging loudly as he stomped.
Unable to retreat fast enough, Sira pressed against the wall. Sliding to a crouch, the femme attempted to make herself disappear.
Sunstreaker rounded the corner. Hate and violence sizzled around him as he passed her. His optics glowed a dark, brutal blue, daring the universe to challenge him. If the mech noticed her presence, he did not acknowledge it. Sira stayed still and quiet until Sunstreaker turned another corner and disappeared.
On shaking legs, she stood and glanced towards medbay. Optimus had gone, presumably back to help Ratchet. Alone, uncertain, and with nothing to offer, Sira did the only thing she knew how to do, she searched for a place to hide. Her steps led to her old room. Resting her hand on the door controls, she hesitated. Beyond lay the possessions of an organic woman, clothes, a soft bed, tiny books, items from a life she could never return to. She lacked the strength to revisit that life and chose to find a different room to call her own.
XxxX
The hours stretched onward as Sira lay in the dark. She knew she needed to sleep, or recharge as the Autobots called it, yet she could not figure out how to settle her mind and drift off. Cocooned in the empty room, her thoughts turned to the future. She lacked any unique talents or knowledge the Autobots would find useful, and the one thing that set her apart from humans vanished when her body died. Unskilled, uneducated, an alien among the aliens, the least capable, and the most likely to be cut loose if times got hard. Optimus said they would teach her and help her make her way, and she prayed to the gods he meant those words. What would happen if something happened to him? Would the others step in to help her? Would she be cast away? Do they consider her slow, or mentally deficient, a thing to be pitied? Could she ever reach their levels of abilities? Her thoughts tormented her as sleep evaded her.
"Fuck this," she whispered to the darkness. Dropping her legs over the side of the bunk, the femme hopped down. Immediately a wave of vertigo washed over her. Scrambling for stability, Sira clutched the side of the bunk until the dizziness passed. Slowly standing upright, Sira tested her steps - normal and secure.
Lacking any goal or destination, Sira headed towards the rec room. If nothing else, she could pick one of the tattered paperbacks lining the shelves. As she strolled, the seeds of an idea began to take root. The Autobots had money, and she had nothing but time. Perhaps she should turn the ragtag assemblage of books into a proper library. Several Autobots appeared to enjoy reading, as did some soldiers, and new material would be a welcome reprieve from boredom. Purpose bounced in her steps, and a list of desired titles began stacking in her mind. She needed one of those datapad thingies the mechs used to make notes, and she needed to poll the resident bookworms, what they would like. Also, she might ask the others if they would like anything, manuals, periodicals, technical journals, or similar.
A smile curled the corners of her mouth. A base library wouldn't be much, but it would offer her a task, a job, an accomplishment. Turning a corner, she slammed into, then immediately bounced off a solid mass of black metal. "Sorry, Ironhide, I didn't know you were there," she apologized, her mental list of novels disintegrating from the impact.
The big mech did not flinch. "There you are. Prime wants all of us at the meeting." Grabbing her by the shoulders, Ironhide turned her around, and half pushed, half guided her down the hallway.
"What meeting?" Sira whined, confused, and panicked.
Ironhide groused behind her, continuously pushing her forward. "For the glory of Primus. The debriefing with the EOD techs. Don't tell me you ignored the summonsing."
Moving forward, Sira turned her head to protest her importance at such a meeting.
"Yes, you too." The mech interrupted her before she could speak.
Optimus held the meeting in the cavernous conference room. The space offered enough room for dozens of Cybertronians. Along the back wall, a long shelf offered a place for humans to stand, closer to the height of mech. Today, people littered the floor space, too many to comfortably populate the ledge.
Sira stood at the back of the room. Next to her, Ratchet leaned against the wall, focusing on a datapad. She tried to ignore the glances from the humans. She did not look like the others, still a coppery protoform; she appeared more alien, less familiar. She felt exposed and naked and stupid for feeling that way.
The briefing covered the attack in Tranquility and what the Autobots discovered. For such a tragedy, the cold, pragmatic wording minimized the "event." Sira assumed this clipped, just-the-facts reference saved time and reduced any overexaggerating or grandiose storytelling, but it also removed the personal pain, deaths, and terror. Instead, she watched the humans. She noticed how the newcomers stole sideways glances at the Autobots, the small tremors when Optimus spoke, and the fidgeting of hands. Most of the people showed nervousness; only Lennox's men appeared at ease.
A movement pulled her attention towards the Prime. He stepped back, and on cue, Wheeljack and Ironhide approached the delegation. A round of introductions, then a flurry of technical discussion that made her head spin.
Leaning towards Ratchet, Sira whispered, "Is he going to introduce all of us?"
Look up from the datapad, the medic signed. "Of course not. Wheeljack and Ironhide will be assisting the humans. Fortunately, we will not. Anyways, Prime can't introduce you, at least not by your real name, because you are legally dead." Then he returned to scrolling through whatever he found so riveting on the screen.
Blinking, Sira tried to process the medic's words. She couldn't use her name. It had never occurred to her that a new body would require a new name. Yes, she had used aliases before, but that was strictly for practical reasons. She had still been Sira. Names were sacred; they defined a person and held identity. Who would she be if she wasn't herself?
Uncertainty tightened around her; she had to get out of this room with the nervous humans and their ill hidden glances. Sira slowly walked to the exit, holding herself together and refusing to run like a scared child.
She never noticed intense, brown eyes watching her leave.
XxxX.
Agent Simmons sauntered into the medbay, he did not need to be here, but he wanted to snoop. He enjoyed snooping; digging up clues and tidbits of information was his bread and butter. He trusted his instincts, and right now, they needled at him. The arrival of the newest Cybertronian did not surprise him; when Optimus sent the hail, everyone figured there would be additions to the group. No, something else about the new one caught his attention. Something in the way it moved, the vibes it gave out. It made his instincts itch, and he needed to scratch them by finding out more.
"How's the patient?" he called to the medic.
"I'm alive," A disembodied voice announced from a medical bunk.
Looking over his shoulder and down, the gloriously green Autobot CMO made a noise between a grown and snort. "Why are you here? Shouldn't you be topside with the rest of the humans?"
Simmons looked around, openly snooping. "Naw. I've done my time putting up GP tents. The younger guys can handle that. I'll keep my airconditioned hotel room with a free continental breakfast." The agent spoke the truth; he had no intentions of staying in the temporary military HQ on the old airport grounds.
"What do you want?" Ratchet turned and faced Simmons.
Unable to find anything suspicious, the Sector Seven agent gave the towering Autobot his full attention. "I was wondering where the big guy is. I have a few questions to ask him."
"I believe he is in a meeting with the President." The medic dismissed him and turned back to whatever he was doing to Sideswipe.
Undeterred, Simmons pressed onward. "Then, maybe you can answer my question? Why is it that I have seen an unfamiliar robot, and no one has been informed of the new arrival?"
Ratchet set a tool on the bunk with an ominous thunk. "She has been - and still is under medical care. We haven't mentioned her sooner, because quite frankly, we were not sure if she was going to survive," the medic answered.
"She? You called it a 'she.' Do big robots have 'shes'?" Simmons raised one eyebrow. A smile spread along his face. Now he found something interesting, maybe not report-worthy interesting, but interesting nonetheless.
"Agent Simmons, if you have several hours, I would be willing to sit you down and explain the differences between mechs and femmes, but right now, let's just leave it at its complicated. We do not have genders as you think of them. Most mechaniods will prefer the male pronoun, but a few will choose female pronoun. Go call Ironhide a "she" and see what happens."
"Hey, Ratchet, that hurts." Sideswipe yelped.
"I apologize. We will continue later when I am not being distracted." The last word contained a snarl.
Simmons took the hint; he had overstayed his welcome. Quickly retreating, he called to the medic. "Tell your boss I want the paperwork on the girl-bot as soon as all of this other stuff settles down."
XxxX.
Sira leaned against the wall, using the solid surface to keep her upright. Another torturous night without sleep and staring at the walls. The gears in her metal frame groaned in protest when she moved. Periodically, she had to stop and concentrate on remaining standing. The phrase "not firing on all cylinders?" trickled through her processor. Did she even have cylinders? Vacantly staring at nothing, Sira realized she needed - something. An indefinable ache tormented her.
She didn't know how long she sat there. She did not register the heavy pedfalls or the gruff string of expletives. A vicelike grip yanked her out of her stupor. Instinctively, she lashed out, sinking her hand deep into the neck cables of her antagonist. Grabbing hold, she pulled with her remaining strength. A weak snarl squeaked from her vocals.
The mech roared from pain.
Sira impacted the floor with tremendous force when her attacker threw her. Scrambling, she tried to stand, but a heavy ped slammed her back down. The more she struggled, the more pressure pressed against her. Metal groaned from stress, and pain lanced through her.
"Frag it! Would you just be still? I'm not gonna hurt you. Damn femme."
Sira forced herself to still, but her mouthparts remained curled in a sneer. Twisting to look up. Ironhide towered over her, his foot planted squarely in her back. She went limp, giving up.
"Of all the stupid - look at you. Are you too good to ask for a little help?" the warrior sighed.
"Everyone is busy. I didn't want to be in the way," she commented meekly.
"Of course, you'll be in the way. We are always in each other's way, and none of us would have it any different. Of all the stupid ideas." As he griped, his foot lifted from her back.
Sira shook as she made it to her hands and knees, determined to stand up on her own. Two large hands grabbed her around the waist. The weapons specialist effortlessly picked her up and flung her over his shoulder. "Shut up and keep still," he told her.
XxxX
Author's Notes: Thank you everyone for reading and commenting.
I am trying to post a chapter every week or two until this is done. Unfortunately, life and work get in the way. With greater position comes greater responsibility.
KEZZ 1 : Thank you very much.
d8rkforcen1ght7: Thank you, it is the details I wanted to add. Those seeming tiny pieces that make a difference and foreshadow. I am trying to stay safe, promise. You stay safe too, it's a big world out there.