Notes: This chapter was heavily inspired by scenes from [Giants of the Earth], an exceptionally well written story. If you haven't already read it, I encourage you to do so.
After their argument, and the subsequent admissions that it had revealed, Ratchet's medical exam was almost anti-climactic. The medic moved away to gather supplies, uncharacteristically pensive as he did so, and Sam pulled off his shirt as he sat down on the edge of the berth. Optimus stood a short distance away, solemn and watchful, but Sam was only peripherally aware of his presence. He was lost in thought, trying to come to terms with what Optimus had told him. The righteous anger that had fueled his argument with Ratchet slowly bleeding away, leaving profound exhaustion in its wake. Sam mentally recoiled from the knowledge that there was yet another secret involving him, one so profound that it greatly unsettled the Autobot leader. Sam's shoulders curled inward as he ran a hand over his face.
How does this keep happening? He wondered, despairingly.
Sam's introspection was so all-consuming that he almost did not notice Ratchet's return. The medic arranged his supplies on the berth, as a finger of one hand seamlessly transformed into an array of delicate instruments. Abruptly pulled out of his thoughts, his heart started to beat faster in his chest. He worked his jaw, willing himself to remain still as the medic approached. The moment the pincer-like appendage brushed the skin of his chest, however, Sam flinched back hard.
"Stop."
It was barely a whisper, but Ratchet froze instantly. The medic's optics flicked to his face, searchingly.
Sam swallowed around the lump in his throat. "Ratchet…" He started, before his voice trailed away, unsure what he intended to say. An explanation? An apology?
A plea?
The medic looked at him for a long moment, and then he stepped away and folded the instruments back into his servo. A fraction of a second later, his brassy-haired holoform appeared beside Sam on the berth.
"Would this be easier?" Ratchet asked, his voice gruff but not unkind.
Without looking at the holoform or the medic, he nodded slowly. He could feel himself flushing to the roots of his hair, equal parts mortified and discomforted. Ratchet was quick and efficient in his work, the holoform and the Autobot moving in tandem to finish the dressing change. Eventually Ratchet told him to put his shirt on, and then the holoform disappeared as the medic disposed of the soiled bandages.
"I am pleased by the condition of your injuries. They are healing well and there are still no signs of infection. How do you feel?"
Well, I haven't thrown up or cried yet today, he thought self-deprecatingly. Aloud, he replied, "I'm okay. Whatever you gave me last night helped."
For a moment, Ratchet looked as though he were wrestling with the impulse to say something sarcastic, but he eventually said, "I am pleased to hear it. You should have another course; the half-life of the medication is approximately 12 hours. If you aren't yet, you will be feeling your injuries again soon."
Sam lifted his shoulder in a shrug.
"If that's what you think, sure."
Ratchet had a wary expression on his face, as though he were waiting for the other shoe to drop. Sam rolled his eyes and sighed in exasperation.
"I'm not a masochist, Ratchet. If my options are pain and no pain, it's not a difficult decision."
"You'll forgive me. I have two years' experience that tells me you do not always make decisions in your own self-interests."
Sam huffed an annoyed sound, but there was no heat in it. He stared resolutely at the floor as Ratchet approached; there was a familiar snap-hiss and a brief stab of pain, and then it was over.
"You should wait to have a short rest around noon, and then go to sleep at your usual time this evening."
Sam nodded, his eyes flicking to the medic's face for the first time in half an hour.
"Come back if your pain becomes unmanageable. Otherwise, I will see you tonight."
Optimus extended his hand towards the berth. Sam climbed to his feet, and stepped onto his palm obediently. Rather than deposit him on the floor, however, Optimus brought him close to his chest and hesitated a moment.
"Sam, would you like to accompany Bumblebee on his patrol?"
He blinked up at the Autobot leader, who seemed uncharacteristically tentative. It only took a moment for him to recognize Optimus' offer for what it was: an olive branch.
"Patrol?" He asked, curiously.
"The scouts patrol the island three times every day, in pairs. Bumblebee and Sideswipe are preparing to embark. You may accompany them if you wish."
The emotional exhaustion that had overcome him in the aftermath of his argument with Ratchet vanished in an instant, replaced by eager anticipation. It had been days since he had seen his guardian, and the opportunity to explore the island together was too tempting to decline. Something about his expression must have been telling, for Optimus' optics softened as he lowered Sam to the floor.
"I've notified Bumblebee. He will be here shortly."
"Get something to eat first." Ratchet groused at him, from over his shoulder.
A faint smile pulled at the corner of Sam's lips. If nothing else, the medic was consistent.
It was no time at all before Sam heard the throaty growl of Bumblebee's engines, and the yellow Camaro pulled into the medical bay, transforming before he came to a stop. The scout jogged forward several steps, and crouched down in front of him.
"Let's go, you and me, keep it tight, don't wait." Bee's radio sang, and Sam smiled at him.
"Hey buddy. Up for a drive?"
Bee chirped in response, his optics bright.
"I need to grab something to eat first." He apologized, glancing sidelong at Ratchet.
Bee stood up and stepped back, transforming back into his alt-mode without another word. He didn't need to say anything—the scout's enthusiasm was obvious by the way he revved his engine and rocked on his wheels. Sam walked up to the driver's side door, running a hand affectionately over Bee's roof, as he glanced at Optimus. The Autobot leader had retreated to stand beside Ratchet, watching the two of them with an air of quiet introspection. Sam felt compelled to say something, to reciprocate the olive branch that Optimus had extended to him.
"Thank-you for walking with me earlier." He murmured after an uncertain pause, echoing Optimus' words back to him.
Without waiting for a reply, Sam ducked into Bee's cab, the door closing behind him. He barely had time to settle into the driver's seat before the scout was in motion, driving out of the medical bay and towards the bridge. He went first to the North Quad mess hall. Sam scrambled out quickly, ducking into the hall as Bee waited outside in his alt mode. He was surprised by the excited anticipation that spurred him—it had been a long time since he'd felt anything other than fear or anger or grief. Sam grabbed an assortment of packaged goods—cinnamon bun, fruit tray, croissant—hurrying to the cash registers with his selection. He barely waited to see the flash of approval from the terminal before he was off. He jogged back into the corridor moments later, climbing into Bee's cab again with a grin.
Bee was off in a shot, driving through the quad at a quick clip. Sam was half-way through his cinnamon bun, mindful of crumbs and sticky fingers, when Bee pulled into the large receiving room. Sideswipe was waiting in his alt-mode by the lift, and the convertible flashed his high beams impatiently as Bee approached. The two Autobots accelerated until they were on the lift, side by side. Bumblebee's radio brightened to life, and the scout started speaking.
/Bumblebee and Sam, checking in./
Sideswipe's exaggerated sigh burst forth from Bee's radio.
/Sideswipe checking in./ The mech said, his tone bordering on annoyed.
/Acknowledged. Your departure is approved. Good luck./ Sam recognized Ironhide's commanding voice immediately. As soon as the weapon's specialist finished speaking, the lift jerked beneath them and started to ascend.
"What's this?" He asked, curiously. He had never heard the other Autobots through Bumblebee's speakers before.
"It's our general comms channel." Bee explained, his voice cheery, "It is accessible by all Autobots within range. We use it for day-to-day communication—general chatter, discussion, it's relatively informal."
Sam smiled at the dashboard. He suspected that this was Bumblebee's way of welcoming him into the fold, of including him as part of their group—equal and wanted. They finished ascending into the large hangar, both vehicles accelerating forward as soon as the lift stopped. The large doors at the end of the hangar opened as they approached, and the armed men standing sentry outside snapped off crisp salutes as they drove past.
"What's its range?" He asked curiously, starting on his fruit tray.
"1000 kilometers or thereabouts, although it can vary based on topography and atmospheric conditions. In comparison, we can ping one another over far greater distances—sometimes thousands of kilometers apart—and Optimus can ping us from anywhere on the planet."
"Ping?" He asked curiously.
"A private message sent to an individual's comm channel." Bee explained.
"Like a voicemail?"
Bee's voice was amused, "More or less."
They had reached the outskirts of the base, which quickly receded behind them as they picked up speed. Sam glanced at Bee's dashboard, feeling a familiar thrill as the speedometer climbed steadily—40, 55, 60. Palm trees flashed by them for an interminable time before the vegetation fell away. They turned onto a narrow road that was bordered on both sides by white sand and turquoise water. The atoll was narrow here, less than 1000 feet from shore to shore. Sam sat up straighter, leaning towards the driver's side window. Vegetation on this part of the atoll was sparse, mostly scrub brush that separated the road from the drift line. The early morning sun glittered off the water, beautiful and serene.
/Preliminary scans complete, western-central all clear./ Sideswipe reported.
/Continuing on to southern quadrant./ Bumblebee informed immediately thereafter.
"Bee, this is so cool." Sam said, delightedly.
/Glad you think so, Sam./ Jolt's amused voice cut over the channel.
Sam blinked in surprise, taken aback.
"They can hear me?"
There was a brief pause before Bumblebee replied, "I have left the comms open, but I can stop transmitting for you, if you prefer."
Sam considered the offer for a moment, before he shrugged.
"Don't share anything embarrassing." He stipulated with a grin. He reached out to clasp the steering wheel, running his thumb affectionately over the leather.
They continued driving, and the terrain slowly changed around them. The atoll widened and vegetation became more established as they drove. Low, open shrubland was replaced by open-scrub, and then eventually by the dense foliage cover of mature palm trees.
/Preliminary scans complete, southern reef clear. Continuing to East Point./ Bee reported.
"How big is Diego Garcia?" He asked.
"The atoll is approximately 170 square kilometers in total. The continuous portion of the rim stretches 65 kilometers from one end to the other—it's the largest, continuous dryland atoll in the world. Its width ranges from 2.5 kilometers around the base to less than a few hundred meters by Cust point."
"Are there animals?" He asked, curiously.
"There are no large mammals on the atoll, but there is an assortment of rodents, birds, reptiles, and crustaceans."
Sam leaned back against the seat, comfortable and content.
"How long does it take you guys to do a full patrol?"
/It depends on whether we find anything worth investigating. On a quiet day, we can do the round-trip in less than two hours. Longer, if Sides is feeling prissy about it./ Bumblebee said dryly, and Sam could tell by the modulation of the scout's voice that he was on the comms channel. There was a burst of unflattering-sounding Cybertronian in response, and Sideswipe's engine roared as the Corvette pulled in front of them, taking point.
Sam laughed aloud.
The pavement gave way to crushed gravel, and the road narrowed to a single worn path through the dense forest of palm trees. The foliage was so thick and shaded that Sam could no longer see the glittering turquoise of the ocean on either side of the road. Ahead of them, Sideswipe's brake lights flared and the Corvette slowed to a stop. Bumblebee followed suit, his door popping open as soon as he came to rest. Curiously, Sam climbed out of the cab and stepped back as the two Autobots transformed into their bipedal modes.
"What's up?" He asked. Here under the dense canopy of palm fronds, the sunlight was slanted and mellow, but the air was remarkably hot and humid. Sam felt sweat starting to bead against the back of his neck.
"Come see for yourself." Bumblebee chirped good-naturedly, moving aside to reveal the cause of their delay. Sam stepped forward, blinking in surprise as he did so. In the middle of the narrow trail was the strangest looking creature he had seen in his life. It vaguely resembled a lobster, except it was far larger—about the size of a wastebasket. Its shell was a mottled red-orange, and it had ten jointed legs and two large pincer-like claws. The strange creature ambled slowly across the road, its legs moving in pairs.
Sam crouched a few feet away, glancing up at his guardian.
"What is it?"
"A coconut crab." Sideswipe replied instead, irritation in his voice, "They're all over the island."
"It's huge. I didn't know crabs could get this big."
"It's the largest land-living arthropod in the world." Bumblebee said, bending down to pluck the creature up with two fingers, transferring it off the road and into the forest.
"It's a nuisance." Sideswipe said impatiently, "And because they're a protected species, Prime won't let us exterminate them."
Sam glanced at the silver mech disapprovingly, "Hey. It didn't do anything to you."
Sideswipe shrugged, "See if you feel the same way in an hour."
As it turns out, it didn't even take an hour. When they had stopped for the fifth time in twenty minutes to move another lumbering crustacean off the road, Sam directed his gaze towards the dashboard and said, "Alright, I see your point."
Sideswipe chirped at him in smug acknowledgement, transforming back into his alt mode. Bumblebee drove ahead of the silver mech, resuming point.
They drove together in companionable silence as the dense forest thinned around them. It was only a short while before Sam could see the glint of water through the trees again, and then they were back in the bright sunshine of the open beach. The strip of land narrowed rapidly as they drove, until there was only a thin stretch of sand on each side of the road separating them from the water.
/Cust Point is clear./ Bumblebee reported.
Sam sat up straighter, looking out the driver's side window. He could see the airstrip and the base across the bay beside him, and he realized they had almost come full-circle. It was only moments later that the road came to an end, tapering off into a large swath of white sand. Turquoise water surrounded the point on three sides, and scrubby little plants dotted the high-water mark along the beach.
Bumblebee rolled forward several meters, and then his driver's side door clicked open. Sam climbed out of the cab, his feet sinking immediately into the soft sand. He bent down and pulled off his shoes and socks, and then rolled the hem of his jeans up several inches. He walked down the beach face slowly, staring out over the glittering expanse of ocean water. The sunshine was hot against his skin, and the smell of saltwater was fresh in the air.
Sam sat down slowly, suddenly painfully aware of where he was—and of why he was there. He wondered numbly where Mikaela was at that moment and what she was doing—the twist of grief he felt at the thought took his breath away.
He wasn't sure how long he sat there, staring unthinkingly out at the water, before a shadow fell across him. Sam glanced up to see his guardian standing over him, blue optics shining concernedly. The scout crouched down, bracketing Sam's body with his legs. Sam looked away from him, glancing back towards the water. Tentatively, Bee brought his hand to rest against Sam's back; he flinched at the touch, but did not pull away. Seemingly encouraged, the scout ran a single digit down the length of his spine.
Sam shivered.
Bee chirped at him soothingly, running his finger along his spine again with just the faintest hint of pressure. It was amazing how gentle the scout could be, given his demonstrated capacity for violence. Bee shifted slightly on his pedes, and then feathered his fingers along Sam's upper back and shoulders, rubbing softly. He stayed crouched like that for a long while, stroking and rubbing his fingers across Sam's back. Eventually, the tension eased out of Sam's body and he relaxed, leaning against the scout's struts.
"Thanks buddy." He murmured.
Before Bee could reply, Sideswipe laid on his horn, long and loud. Sam spasmed as though he'd been electrocuted, and he whipped around to glare at the Corvette.
"If you two are done, we have a patrol to finish." Sideswipe huffed impatiently.
Bumblebee stood up, warbling animatedly at the other scout in irritation. Sam climbed to his feet after him, surprised to find that his knees were stiff. How long had he been sitting out here?
Together they walked up the beach face, Bumblebee transforming as soon as they reached the road. Sideswipe reversed as Sam climbed into Bee's cab, pulling onto the road and heading back the way they came. Sam settled into the driver's seat as the door closed shut behind him, and Bumblebee accelerated after the other scout.
/Barton Point is all-clear. Returning to base./ Sideswipe reported, sounding huffy.
"Prissy is right." Sam said pointedly, staring at the dash.
Sideswipe brake-checked hard in front of them, and Sam laughed at Bee's affronted chirping.
He reached forward and opened Bee's glovebox, pulling out the last of the food he had brought with him. The sunshine had had a reviving effect on his appetite, and he ate quickly. They were just passing East Point when Prime's voice cut through the silence of the cab.
/All Autobots assemble in the command center immediately./ He ordered. The moment he finished speaking, Bumblebee's engine roared as the speedometer needle jumped to 60 miles per hour. Sam reached instinctively for the seat belt, pulling it around him in a single motion.
"What is it?" He asked, his voice sharper than he intended.
"I don't know." Bumblebee replied seriously, "It's not an immediate threat, whatever it is, or else Prime would have activated the tacnet."
The two scouts shot down the narrow path between the palm trees, kicking up a cloud of dust in their wake. Once they reached paved road again, their speed increased dramatically as the speedometer needle buried in the red. Normally Sam would have been ecstatic about the wild ride, but the tension in his guardian's frame quashed his excitement completely.
It was less than fifteen minutes before they were pulling into a dark room deep within the West Quad. Sam climbed out of the cab and stepped back, giving his guardian the space to transform. Not that he needed it, Sam reflected. The room they were in was huge.
The command center was built for simultaneous occupation by Autobots and humans. In the center of the room was an Autobot-sized table that contained several monitors and key pads intended for use by the large mechs. A complicated series of metal scaffolds and platforms were affixed to the walls of the room, at Autobot-height. The platforms were full of computer terminals and servers, at which sat dozens of technicians and operatives. The room was a noisy din of talking, typing, and movement.
Sam climbed the steps of the nearest scaffold, walking down the length of the room. Bumblebee and Sideswipe moved to stand around the large table, at the head of which stood Optimus Prime. All of the other Autobots were already assembled, including Arcee who stood off to one side next to Elita-One. Sam noticed Will and Dave halfway down the walkway, and he hurried to join them.
Optimus surveyed the room, before he nodded to Wheeljack. The engineer's servos flew over the keypad on the desk, and a three-dimensional hologram appeared in the center of the room.
The command center went quiet.
The hologram was immediately recognizable as a scaled-out version of their solar system, and it rotated slowly over the desk.
"Approximately twenty-five minutes ago, we received confirmation of two Vanguard-class starships entering the solar system." Optimus began. The hologram zoomed in near Pluto, where one red dot blinked menacingly. The image panned rapidly, and a second dot blinked at them from further away.
"The nearest of the two ships has just entered the heliosphere. The second is not far behind, currently making its way through interstellar space on this side of the Oort cloud. Given their current trajectory, we believe that their destination is Earth."
Lennox leaned forward, gripping the metal railing of the scaffold.
"Do we know if they're hostiles or friendlies?"
Prime turned to look at him, "We do not. We had to limit our sensor capabilities significantly in order to increase its range. We will not know more until the first ship passes the Kuiper belt in approximately six hours. In the interim, we must prepare for the possibility that these ships contain a Decepticon invasion force."
Sam shifted nervously, glancing at Lennox who had a grimly determined look on his face.
"In response, I am ordering NEST to full activation." Optimus continued, and the room erupted into a flurry of organized chaos. Technicians started speaking animatedly into headsets, as they hurried to follow Prime's command. Soldiers walked briskly up and down the walkways, carrying messages and orders from station to station.
Prime turned to look at Lennox, who seemingly anticipated the Autobot leader's next words.
"What flight activation would you like?" He asked preemptively.
"Scramble the F-22s. I want a full pass of our airspace every quarter hour. Also notify the International Civil Aviation Organization that our airspace is closed to all foreign traffic, effective immediately."
"Got it." Lennox nodded, heading to the nearest command terminal.
Optimus turned to Dave next, "I have briefed the United Nations on the unfolding situation. Please work with Wheeljack to ensure they have the necessary details to inform their own protective planning."
Dave nodded sharply, "Will do. Any restrictions on the information I can provide?"
Optimus tilted his head considerately, "Use your best judgment. Provide them with whatever they require to make good preparedness decisions, but nothing that would cause an unnecessary panic."
Dave nodded, starting down the stairs, "I'll be at logistics."
Now alone, Sam gripped the metal railing of the scaffold until his knuckles turned white. It had been, what, five days since they'd last faced certain annihilation from the Decepticons?
He became aware that Optimus was talking once again, this time to his soldiers.
"Sideswipe, Jolt, Ironhide, I want you topside at the airfield. If this is an attack by the Decepticons, you can be certain that Starscream or Megatron will harry our air forces in advance. Chromia, Elita-1, Mudflap, and Skids, begin continuous patrolling of the downtown facilities."
Arcee pushed off the wall, stepping towards Optimus with a protesting squeal of Cybertronian. The large mech looked down at her, shaking his head minutely.
"No, Arcee. Unless we engage with enemy forces, you are to remain here. Ratchet has not cleared you for return to active duty."
The lithe bot looked like she wanted to argue, but a serious and quelling look from Optimus had her ducking her head in acquiescence.
Bumblebee turned away from the conference table, and walked towards him. When the Autobot stopped up to the scaffold, the two were of a similar height.
"The fun never stops." Sam commented wryly.
"The city never sleeps at night." Bumblebee agreed.
Sam worried his bottom lip with his teeth for a moment, "What happens if—"
"Sam." Optimus interrupted him gently from his position at the table, "It does no good to squander our energies on baseless speculation."
He shifted uncertainly. Optimus was right, he knew, but how could he not?
"We will know more in six hours." Optimus continued, "Until then, we must be patient."
It was the longest six hours of Sam's life.
By the time the red dot on the hologram had approached the dashed line that signified the outer edge of their enhanced sensor range, Lennox and Dave had re-joined him on the scaffold. Sideswipe, Jolt, and Ironhide had also temporarily returned, standing in a semi-circle around the desk. Everyone in the room, human and Autobot alike, was closely watching the hologram in grim anticipation.
When the blinking red dot crossed the dashed line on the hologram, Optimus nodded to Wheeljack. The engineer's servos flew across the machinery in front of him, and then he nodded back at the Autobot leader.
"Unidentified vessel, this is Optimus Prime. You are approaching a planet that is under Autobot protection. Identify yourself and state your purpose."
There was a long, tense silence.
"Unidentified vessel—" Prime started again, but a loud crackling interrupted him.
"We are receiving you loud and clear, Prime." A calm, serious voice replied through the speakers, "This is the Trion. We are transmitting visual now."
The reaction was instantaneous. All of the assembled Autobots started talking animatedly at once, their voices pitched high in excitement and surprise.
"Prowl?" Ironhide demanded in disbelief, "Is that you?"
"—by Primus, it can't be—"
"—the Trion? I can't believe she made it—"
"—it's been megacycles—"
Optimus raised a restraining hand, though his expression was quietly eager. The sudden riot of excited chatter petered off, and Optimus nodded to Wheeljack. The engineer bobbed his head and tapped away at the keypad in front of him. After a moment, the hologram flicked, replaced by the visage of a serious looking black-and-white mechanoid.
"Prime." The mech greeted, inclining his head respectfully, "We received your beacon, and came as soon as we could."
"Prowl, my old friend. Your arrival is most welcome."
Sideswipe stepped forward abruptly, tension radiating from his entire frame. He locked optics with the hologram, and demanded something urgently in clipped Cybertronian.
Prowl turned slightly to survey him, but before the mech could respond there was an answering string of excited Cybertronian from behind him. Sideswipe sagged like his strings had been cut, optics bright with barely restrained emotion. Jolt stepped forward, ducking down to murmur at Sideswipe with an animated smile on his face.
Prowl continued as though he hadn't just been interrupted, "In addition to Sunstreaker, I also have Ultra Magnus, Hot Rod, Cliffjumper, Bluestreak, and Ripcord."
Sam noticed his guardian's optics brighten at the words, and Sam smiled at him encouragingly. He recognized Cliffjumper's name from the stories Bumblebee had told him about his time at the Simfur Temple.
"That is welcome news indeed, Prowl." Optimus replied, "There is a sizable Decepticon presence on this planet, including Megatron and Starscream. We have recently engaged them in combat, and welcome your reinforcements."
"Of course, Prime." Prowl acknowledged with another tilt of his head, "We can be planet-side in one cycle. You should know, however, that we were recently ambushed by Thundercracker and Skywarp. If we received your beacon, then it only stands to reason that they are not far behind."
Optimus' faceplates turned down in a frown, "That is unfortunate. A united command trine will give Megatron a significant tactical advantage, and will pose a great threat to the peoples of this planet." He paused a moment and tapped the keypad in front of him. A smaller version of the solar system hologram appeared, two dots blinking in tandem, "Prowl, there is another ship coming in behind you. Do you know its designation?"
"It's the Ark." Prowl replied, and Optimus jerked back slightly in surprise.
"The Ark?" He repeated, disbelieving and hopeful in equal measures. Prowl nodded once in confirmation.
"Yes. She was badly damaged, hence our delay, but she's operational."
"Who?" Prime asked, voice intense.
"Kup, Perceptor, and Mirage."
Optimus' optics shuttered briefly as he murmured, "Thank Primus."
Sam's mind reeled with this new information. By his count, the number of Autobots on Earth was about to double, and there were two starships to add to the equation. He felt almost giddy with relief.
Prime straightened, composed once again.
"Wheeljack is sending you coordinates to Diego Garcia. Be cautious on your approach; Soundwave is still in orbit around the planet, and Megatron and Starscream will surely be aware of your arrival."
Prowl nodded shortly, "Of course. Prowl out."
The image flickered for a moment, and then disappeared.
Optimus lifted his helm, surveying the room slowly.
"This is momentous news," He began, stately and dignified, "The arrival of our friends and comrades may well represent a turning point for this conflict. However, we must remain vigilant. The Trion and the Ark are high-priority targets, and they will be vulnerable to attack until they land at Diego Garcia."
He glanced around the room, his eyes settling on Autobots and humans alike.
"You have your orders. We will receive the Trion at the eastern airfield; be prepared for landfall at oh-five-hundred."
Optimus nodded to them all, stepping away from the table to speak with Ratchet and Ironhide. Sam turned to look at Dave and Will, who wore similar expressions of surprised relief on their faces.
"So that's not how I thought things were going to go." Sam said, conversationally, as he crossed his arms loosely over his chest.
Dave huffed a laugh, "No, definitely not." He agreed before he pinched the bridge of his nose, "I am going to be up all night trying to calm down pissy heads-of-state."
Sam laughed nudging the man with his elbow, "Better than the alternative, I suppose."
Lennox smirked at them, pushing away from the railing.
"I'm going to go prep the Lancers. I'll see you both tomorrow."
Sam raised two fingers in a crooked salute.
"Good luck, Captain."
Sam looked away from Will's retreating form to see that Bumblebee had stepped close. He smiled affectionately at the mech, leaning against the railing towards him.
"So Cliffjumper," Sam said, "You must be excited."
Bumblebee chirped expressively in agreement.
"I feel like I already know him." Sam admitted, "Think he'll be pissed you told me about his frag-up at Iacon?"
There was a burst of laughter-like static from the scout.
"I would consider it a kindness if you didn't mention that."
"Oh-ho. Do you know what that sounds like, Bee? It sounds like leverage." Sam replied, mischievously. The scout gave an affronted squeal, reaching out a digit to push against Sam's chest. He stumbled back a step, laughing delightedly as he swatted at the offending finger.
"What about the rest of them? Do you know them?"
Bee nodded enthusiastically.
"Many of them. I've worked most closely with Cliff, Roddy, and Sunny. Sunny, designation Sunstreaker, is Sideswipe's twin brother." He said, and Sam suddenly understood the silver mech's earlier behavior.
"I've served aboard the Ark with Mirage, Bluestreak, and Perceptor," Bumblebee continued, "Whereas I only know Kup, Ultra Magnus, and Ripcord in passing. Regardless of my personal attachments to them, Prowl, Kup, and Ultra Magnus are Prime's secondary commanders. We are incredibly fortunate to have them join us."
Sam smiled at his guardian in genuine affection, "I'm glad your friends are here, Bee. Really glad."
The scout whistled at him, optics bright. Before he could reply, however, Ratchet interrupted them.
"It's nineteen-hundred, Sam." The medic said, as though the statement were self-explanatory. At Sam's puzzled expression, the medic vented air dramatically, "It is time for your dressing change, food, and rest. In that order."
Sam shook his head in exasperation, "There's no way I'm going to be able to fall asleep now, Ratchet."
"Nevertheless, needs will out." The medic replied, dryly.
Sam stared at him for a moment before he shrugged.
"Alright then. Let's go."
The medic huffed slightly, as though taken aback, and rapidly transformed into his alt-mode. Sam jogged down the metal stairs, and approached the LAFD Search and Rescue Hummer. Ratchet popped his door and he gingerly climbed inside of the cab, wincing in discomfort. The door shut behind him, and Ratchet pulled out of the command center.
"Are your injuries bothering you?" The medic asked.
Sam shrugged, glancing around the interior curiously. He had never driven in Ratchet's alt mode before.
"Starting to." He admitted.
"Understandable, given the time since you were last medicated." Ratchet said. It was only the space of several moments before he pulled into the medical bay. Sam yelped in surprise as the medic unexpectedly transformed around him.
"Ratchet!" He barked, anxiety making his voice sharp, "A little warning next time!"
Ratchet huffed impatiently as he set Sam down on a nearby berth, on which a familiar assortment of medical supplies was already waiting. Sam barely had his feet underneath him before the brassy-haired holoform flickered to life beside him.
"Consider this my official warning: I'm an Autobot. I transform." The medic replied sardonically.
Sam pulled his shirt over his head, annoyed.
"That's not what I meant, and you know it."
"I do." Ratchet agreed, serenely.
Sam huffed a laugh, an exasperated smile tugging at the corners of his lips.
"Smartass." He said, without heat.
The holoform crouched beside him.
"I would prefer to change your bandages after I've administered an analgesic." He said, and Sam realized belatedly that he was asking for permission. Sam felt warm appreciation blossom in his chest.
"Sure." He agreed.
The holoform nodded, and Ratchet approached in his bi-pedal form. Sam did not look at the medic, resolutely turning his head to the side and waiting with closed eyes. He was aware that his behavior was transparently infantile, but he couldn't look at Ratchet's instruments if he wanted to maintain his composure. A moment later, Sam felt the familiar stab of pain and then heard Ratchet's instruments tucking back into his servo.
"How much longer will I need to do this?" He asked.
Ratchet and the holoform shrugged in unison.
"Your injuries are healing well." The medic said as the holoform started to pull at the adhesive tape on Sam's chest, "The bandages will only be necessary for a few more days. After that, your treatment will consistent primarily of pain management and rest."
Sam nodded.
"Good news about the others." He said, changing topics.
Ratchet's optics shuttered, "It is."
"You know them, I assume?"
Ratchet's gaze flickered to his face for a fraction of a second.
"I do." The medic said, his voice unusually guarded.
Not wanting to pry, Sam fell silent. Ratchet was quiet for the better part of a minute before he said, gruffly, "I knew Kup and Ripcord from before the Great War. Kup is older than rust, the tough old bastard, and Ripcord was a priest at the Temple Simfur."
Sam blinked at Ratchet's words, surprised the medic was confiding in him.
"A priest?"
A grimace pulled at Ratchet's faceplates, "Yes. As Prime has explained, the religion of Primus was once widespread amongst our people. Ripcord was one of the temple leaders that oversaw the Allspark."
Sam winced in response. That was going to be one hell of an awkward introduction.
"What about the others? What are they like?"
"They're good soldiers." Ratchet said gruffly, "Even the youngsters. Primus only knows how Prowl and Ultra Magnus managed to wrangle the three of them for megacycles."
Sam tilted his head at the mech.
"Youngsters?"
Ratchet cycled air in a huff, "Hot Rod, Cliffjumper, and Sunstreaker. They are highly talented, but they're young and like most younglings, they can be difficult to handle."
The medic's words were pointed, and Sam glanced up at him with a sardonic smile.
Message received, He thought wryly.
The holoform gestured for him to raise his left arm, and he started on the bandages on his side. They sat in (surprisingly companionable) silence for the remainder of the dressing change, and eventually the holoform handed him his shirt. Sam pulled it on quickly, standing as he did so.
"I'm going to take you to the mess." Ratchet announced, "After you've eaten, you're to go back to your room and rest."
Sam shifted on his feet. He strongly suspected that sleep was out of the question, but he didn't want to ruin the tentative comradery that had formed between them by arguing with the medic.
Ratchet huffed at him.
"If you can't sleep, at least rest quietly. I'll give you one night before I resort to benzodiazepines."
He recognized the compromise for what it was, and he nodded in agreement.
"If I fall asleep, will someone wake me? Before they arrive, I mean."
Ratchet looked at him as though he had just said something remarkably dense.
"Of course." He rumbled, "You are our ward. Prime will want you present when he receives them."
Sam nodded slowly, climbing onto Ratchet's proffered palm. This time he only grumbled at the medic when he transformed around him without warning.
"Sam. Hey, Sam."
He groaned disapprovingly at the noise, rolling over.
There was a huff of laughter in response, "Come on, time to get up."
Sam raised his head, blinking blearily to find Dave standing at his bedside. He looked around his bedroom in momentary disorientation—the lights were on and he was lying on the bed fully clothed—before his memories caught up with him. He had returned to his room after he had eaten and, apparently, he had managed to fall asleep.
"Sorry," He grunted as he pushed into a sitting position, "I'm awake."
"It's okay. Please accept my apologies for coming in uninvited. I tried the door chime, but there was no answer."
"I didn't hear a thing." He admitted, "I was out cold."
"I noticed." Dave replied amusedly, "Come on, get ready. We have to go."
Sam climbed out of bed, "Do I have time for a shower?"
"A quick one." Dave agreed as he walked into the living room. Sam nodded, pulling a change of clothes out of his closet and walking quickly to the bathroom. He was showered, dressed, and out of his apartment in less than ten minutes. He pulled the lanyard over his head as he walked, slipping his cellphone into his pocket.
"What's the news?" He asked.
"They're about an hour out. So far, there's no sign of a Decepticon attack, but things are tense top-side."
Sam nodded grimly, "I bet."
They walked through the North Quad door, and Sam smiled at the sight of Bumblebee in his alt form waiting on the bridge.
"Hey buddy." He greeted. The scout chirped at him in response, opening both of his doors simultaneously. Sam climbed into driver's seat, and Dave slid into the passenger's seat beside him. Bee was in motion the moment his ass hit the seat.
/Preliminary scans complete. South-central clear./ Mudflap's voice carried through the radio.
/We ain't seen shit all night./ Skids confirmed a moment later.
/Let us hope it stays that way./ Optimus replied, seriously.
/Downtown clear./ Chromia reported.
/East airfield clear. The Lancers are primed and ready to go./ Ironhide said.
Bumblebee came to a stop on the lift a moment later.
/Bumblebee reporting in, with Sam and Dave. We are headed topside now./
As he spoke, the lift lurched beneath him and began its lumbering ascent.
/Very good. Autobots, assemble at the eastern airfield./ Optimus ordered, and there was a flurry of acknowledgments in English and Cybertronian in response. Bumblebee accelerated forward as soon as the lift came to a stop, and it was no time at all before they were driving down the airstrip in the shadowy light of pre-dawn.
It was immediately obvious where they were headed. Optimus stood next to Ratchet and Ironhide at one end of a large, empty airfield. Behind them stood dozens of soldiers, all in full military dress and arranged in neat formation. Behind them was a long, tidy row of military vehicles—Humvees, DAF trucks, and Kamaz transports. It was an impressive sight, and Sam realized suddenly that Optimus was rolling out the red carpet.
Bumblebee slowed to a stop not far from the Autobot leader, and they quickly climbed out of his cab. As soon as they were clear, the yellow mech transformed and motioned for Sam to follow him. He walked towards his guardian, who stood some distance from Optimus, behind him and to his right.
"Stay close to me." He murmured, his voice serious.
Sam nodded in response, fully understanding the implication in his guardian's words.
Over the next twenty minutes, humans and Autobots alike continued to arrive. They all took their position, without needing to be told where to go. The Autobots arranged themselves around their leader according to rank, forming a loose semi-circle. Sam could make out Lennox walking down the row of soldiers, his gaze critical and assessing.
No one spoke.
Sam glanced up reflexively at the roar of a jet engine, tensing from head to toe.
"It's ours." Bee said, assuringly.
Sam nodded, his jaw tight.
"Good to know."
Optimus looked at Ironhide, who lifted his broad shoulders in a shrug.
"I'm not reading anything, Prime."
"Nor I." The Autobot leader rumbled in reply, his optics scanning the horizon with focused intent.
"Megatron knows the show of force we'd assemble to receive the Trion. I don't think even he would risk those odds."
Optimus nodded, but did not reply.
It was ten minutes later when the Autobots stiffened in comically perfect unison, turning their helms to look at a spot on the horizon. Bumblebee crouched, nudging him with a finger.
"Look, it's the Trion." He said. Sam followed the Autobots' gaze, and saw a pinpoint of light in the soft blue sky. As he watched, it grew steadily bigger. It was only moments before Sam could make out the faint rumble of the Trion's engines, which built to a roar as the ship approached. Once the vessel was close enough to see, Sam was taken aback by its beauty. It was a slick, gold-plated ship, long and narrow, with an elegant command bridge rising over its hull. It came to a stop over the empty airfield, lowering slowly as struts extended from the base of the ship. The struts sank into the soft soil of the field, as the ship completed its landing.
Sam shifted on his feet, practically vibrating with nervous excitement. Optimus walked forward, stopping a short distance from the Trion's hull. There was a pregnant pause, and then a large hatchway opened with a hiss of decompression and lowered to the ground.
Prowl walked down the ramp beside a red, white, and blue mechanoid, and together they stopped in front of Optimus. Prowl brought an arm up across his chassis and lowered his helm, bending deeply at the waist.
"Prime. The Trion is yours to command."
Optimus reached out both arms and clasped Prowl on his shoulders.
"Welcome to Earth, Prowl. You have been greatly missed."
Optimus turned and looked at the red, white, and blue mechanoid standing beside him.
"Ultra Magnus. It is good to see you once again."
The large mech inclined his head respectfully.
"I am honored to serve you, Prime."
Prowl and Ultra Magnus fell into formation at Prime's side.
"Greetings, humans! Nice little planet you've got here."
Sam glanced back to the Trion. A red and yellow mechanoid had jogged down the ramp, bouncing slightly on his pedes as he stopped in front of Optimus.
If looks could kill, the glare on Ultra Magnus' face would have done it.
"Welcome, Hot Rod." Optimus greeted, and the younger mech inclined his head respectfully towards him.
Four other mechanoids walked down the ramp behind the newcomer. Two were more heavily armored than the others—one was red-and gray and the other was sunshine yellow. The third was a smaller frame, paneled in silver and blue, and the fourth was tall and lithe, with black and silver paneling. They stopped in front of Optimus, nodding their heads or bowing at the waist in varying degrees of deference.
Optimus nodded, "Welcome to you all. It has been a long and difficult journey, and it heartens me considerably to welcome you to this place that we have come to call home. Together, may we hope to rekindle the best of Cybertron while protecting this planet from those who would seek to do it harm."
As though his words were a release, the yellow Autobot jogged forwards, crushing Sideswipe in a tight embrace. Cybertronian flew back and forth between the two of them, and it was evident even to Sam's ears that it was an emotional conversation. Hot Rod and the red-and-gray mechanoid walked towards them, and Bumblebee stepped forward to greet them.
"Hey Bee, my man! How's it going?" Hot Rod greeted enthusiastically.
Bee chirped back at him, and they grasped arms tightly.
"Bumblebee." The red-and-gray mechanoid greeted warmly, "It has been a long time."
"Cliff." Bee greeted, his optics bright, "It has."
Hot Rod's optics fell on Sam and he exclaimed in excited surprise, "Look at you! You are just adorable."
Sam's eyebrows rose to his hairline. Before he could reply, however, the mech abruptly crouched down, leaning completely into his personal space and poked him with a large digit.
"Is this your human, Bumblebee? They're so small."
Sam flinched back from the touch like he'd been tasered, startled by the unexpected contact. Beside him, Bumblebee bristled indignantly and snapped something in angry-sounding Cybertronian. Hot Rod blinked at him in surprise, raising his servos placatingly as he stood.
"Forgive me, Bumblebee. I meant no offense." He glanced down to Sam, his optics brightening in consternation, "My apologies, human."
Cliffjumper shook his head in exasperation, crossing his arms loosely across his chassis, "Read the room, Roddy."
The red and yellow mech whistled long and low in apology, and Sam released a harsh breath that he hadn't realized he had been holding.
Cliffjumper crouched down in front of him, maintaining a respectful distance, "Hello Sam. I am Cliffjumper. I have known your guardian for a long time."
Sam nodded at him slowly, "Yes, I know. I've heard all about you. It's nice to finally meet you."
Cliffjumper tilted his head curiously, "Is that so?" He glanced at Bumblebee who had stopped glaring daggers at Roddy long enough to look at his friend, "What stories have you been sharing about me, Bumblebee?"
Bumblebee shrugged, his posture loosening, "The good ones." He replied enigmatically, much to Cliffjumper's chagrin. He looked at Sam.
"You'll have to fill me in one day soon, so I can tell you how it really happened." He said, amused.
Sam huffed a laugh as Bumblebee rolled his optics dramatically. Hot Rod glanced behind them and tugged on Cliffjumper's shoulder.
"Look, it's Arcee and Sideswipe. Let's go say hello." He said, enthusiasm back in his voice. Cliffjumper nodded, stepping backwards. To Sam's astonishment, they both crossed one arm across their chest and bowed to him from the waist, as they had done to Optimus. As they walked away, he glanced up at his guardian, looking for an explanation.
"You're Prime's ward." He said, as though that explained everything.
"Not helpful." He replied, exasperatedly.
Bee tilted his head, "Sam, you are a ward of Cybertron and the de facto Ambassador to Earth. That in and of itself would command their respect—or rather, it should." Bee's voice dropped an octave in irritation. He blinked in surprise at his guardian, before he realized that Bee was thinking about Hot Rod's behavior.
"It's okay." He said with a nonchalant shrug, "No harm done. He was just excited."
Bee shook his head at him and continued, "But even if that were not so, Optimus Prime himself is indebted to you. As the last living Prime and the leader of the Autobots, his debt extends to all of those under his command."
Sam frowned, feeling deeply discomforted.
"Bee, that's insane. I'm not worth the fuss."
His guardian looked down at him in surprise, before his optics softened minutely. Rather than reply, however, Bee nodded towards Optimus.
"Let's go meet the others."
Pushing his hands into his pockets, Sam followed Bumblebee towards the group of mechanoids standing in a loose semi-circle around Optimus. The Autobot leader turned as he approached.
"Sam, it is my honor to introduce my secondary commanders. This is Prowl, Chief Military Strategist and this is Ultra Magnus, City Commander." Optimus gestured to each mech, who in turn inclined their heads deeply towards him. Sam felt himself blushing to the roots of his hair.
"It's… it's very nice to meet you." He said at last, struggling to find words in the face of the surrealism that had hit him like a ton of bricks.
Optimus gestured to the blue and silver mech who was standing next to Prowl.
"This is Bluestreak, gunner."
Sam smiled at the blue mech, "You must know Ironhide, then?"
He nodded jerkily, "Oh yes, I have known Ironhide for megacycles. I served under him onboard the Ark-23 after the fall of Iacon, and then again on Telus IV."
Before Sam could open his mouth to reply, Bluestreak continued talking, "He and I share a love of heavy weaponry, of course, but he also appreciates the skill it takes to fire a laser rifle. Does that sound vain? I do not mean to be, I only meant to say that Ironhide appreciates all weaponry, as a gunner must, and I respect him for—"
Bluestreak stopped speaking abruptly, silenced by the restraining hand that Prowl had placed on his chest.
Optimus' optics were amused, and he gestured next to the black and silver mechanoid standing beside Ratchet.
"This is Ripcord, analyst."
Sam looked up at the mechanoid, and was immediately taken aback by the intensity of his regard.
"It is nice to finally meet you, Samuel Witwicky." Ripcord rumbled. Although his words and manner were inoffensive, Sam felt inexplicably disquieted by the Autobot.
"Just Sam is fine." He murmured, eventually. Ripcord nodded in assent.
The conversation moved on, and Sam listened quietly as Optimus and the others discussed what had happened in Egypt. His mind was focused inward, however, trying to puzzle out the uncomfortable feeling that had lodged itself in his chest. Eventually, he decided that he must be projecting his own insecurities. With a concentrated effort, he ignored the anxiety that was niggling at the corner of his mind.
It wasn't until later, after introductions had been completed and they had returned to the Hive, that Sam realized Ripcord was the only Autobot who had not bowed to him.