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: Holding onto the Future
Chapter 56: Femme Fetale
XxxX
She slipped through the deserted city, avoiding Autobot and Decepticon alike. Even in the bright day, she blended in, just another shadow among the shadows. She searched for one mech, the only one on this rock she cared about.
Creeping between two buildings, she found an alley behind them. Perfect for flanking and maneuvering, less chance of being seen. She had no idea what to do when she found her mech; it had been so long. Excitement and trepidation buzzed along her circuits. Should she run to him and jump into his arms, or maybe, strut alluringly up to him to watch his features shift with desire? Both options could lead to a long overdue fragging in the middle of a warzone, not like it would be the first time.
A battle rang out loudly ahead of her, blocks up and several streets over. It sounded bad; the torrent of profanity offered a clue to one of the combatants. Weaving in and through a couple of buildings, she closed the gap to the fight. Peeking between two buildings, she saw a mech surrounded by five, no six Decepticon, with two more on the ground terminated. It took her a few astroseconds to recognize the Autobot. He looked so different, the altmode he chose changed his shape and color, but it was the same old Ironhide.
A wistful smile tugged at her features. Unslinging her bow, she decided to give the old mech a helping hand.
XxxX
"Don't push," the nurse instructed from across the room as she rummaged through desk drawers. Holding up a couple of large binder clips, she beamed with pride.
Sam watched as she laid her supplies on the floor, several rolls of paper towels from the bathroom, water, soap, the clips, a knife, scissors, a lighter, and several trash cans. To him, it looked like an odd assortment, nothing remotely close to caring for his baby and wife.
A moan slipped past Mikaela's clenched teeth, and he reached over to hold her hand.
"Are you timing her contractions?" The nurse asked while running the lighter's flame along the pocketknife's blade.
"With what? How do I time contractions when I don't have a watch, and nothing works?" he snapped back. Micky wore a watch, but it was battery-operated and had died.
The nurse did not answer him but glared over the warming blade.
Tense silence tried to fill the space, but Mikaela's piteous moans and ragged breathing kept everyone focused on her.
XxxX
Velocity gave up trying to hide from the enemy. Whenever she thought she had secured a safe place, Decepticons came sniffing around. Inexperienced with war and warfare, it took her a bit to realize what they were doing - systematically searching the town. The enemy, without knowing it, pressed her closer to the active fighting. Now, she focused on staying ahead of the Decepticons while figuring out how to withdraw to a safer area - if such a thing existed.
Staying low and slinking beneath awnings and overhangs, the femme listened. Pedfalls, the scrape of metal against metal, the tumble of loose bricks kicked by a ped, anything to alert her to enemy presence. Only the occasional rings of titanic combatants clashing in the distance drifted to her audios. But this area held the silent echos of battle. Building facades had crashed into the street, exposing rooms, plumbing, and support studs. The concrete road and sidewalks lay cracked and riddled with craters. Broken glass shimmered like a little girl's glitter spilled on the floor. Anticipation tickled up her spinal assembly and ended with a shiver running along her shoulders and neck.
A nearby roar of triumph reverberated around the buildings, followed by the screech of warping metal. Velocity pressed tighter against the partially demolished buildings. When she moved on all fours, negotiating the debris piles and crumpled cars became shockingly easy. She had never explored quadrupedal movement, but her frame quickly adapted to the change, and she thanked the gods. While not as efficient as her former feline form, she could still stay low and smaller while trying to remain out of sight.
Coming to an intersection, she paused—a glance behind before she leaned past the corner of a bank to search the perpendicular street. To the right, nothing; to the left, several blocks up, Ironhide squared off against several Decepticons. Her pump pounded wildly, and she had to clamp her dental plates together to keep from calling to him. Pulling backward, she leaned against the building; relief flooded through her, and if she could cry, she would have. Shuttering her optics, she gave herself a count of five to regain control.
Pushing the emotions down, she opened her optics. Heading back the way she came, Velocity found a service street and quietly moved toward Ironhide. She did not have a plan, but she knew she had to help him.
XxxX
Sam winced in pain; certain Mikaela would crush the bones in his hand. The contraction faded, and she lessened her grip, but he could not have pulled his hand free if he had tried. Sweat trickled down her face, and her usually shiny hair hung in dull clumps along her neck and shoulders. Angry splotches of red marked her cheeks. To him, she was still the most beautiful thing in the universe.
The nurse huddled between Micky's legs, hands disappearing beneath a blanket the soldier had found. At some point, they had all moved to the floor; Sam could not remember when; panic and adrenaline kept his world in snapshots instead of the steady stream of existence. For their part, a couple of soldiers loitered in the distance, standing where they could not see the drama beneath the blanket; Sam had made sure of that.
"Try not to push. You aren't dilated enough," the nurse instructed, and Sam wondered if Mikaela even heard the woman. Sitting up, the woman, Lieutenant Patel, wiped her hands. "She is close, about eight and a half centimeters dilation." She looked at Sam. "You are going to be a father today."
"Can't you stop this? The baby isn't done, like premature." Sam silently congratulated himself on remembering the word.
Lieutenant Patel shook her head of bobbed black hair. "No more than we can stop the tides. Once her water broke, the baby must come out. Otherwise, we could lose baby and mom."
Sam blew out a puff of air. His child would arrive here in this dark building without modern medical machines. No doctor, he treated those injured in the Decepticon's attack. Sam's mind tried to tell him of all the things that could go wrong, but he did his best to ignore them. For her part, Mikaela ignored everyone; the pain racking her body kept her from focusing on anything else. Even talking became a struggle for her.
XxxX
She moved on silent peds. Lithe and agile, she easily negotiated the piles of rubble and trash blocking parts of the service alley. The sounds of combat rang louder as she crept block by block toward the fight. She still lacked any plan of assistance but allowed instinct to take over. The animal within roared through her lines and across her circuits. It purred with anticipation of the hunt.
Ironhide's bellows reverberated around the hard angles of the buildings. "Arrrraaaaaaaaaaa. I'll shove that up your tailpipe. Bring it fucker." Metal slammed into metal, and a building shook, raining dust and bits of bricks into the alley ahead.
Slowing to a stalk, Velocity continued forward, her movements controlled and cautious. All senses were straining to locate unseen or unheard threats as Ironhide continued his torrent of profanity against his foes. Sniffing the air, she picked up the tell-tale scent of warm metal and exotic alloys from the Cybertronians, the rot of garbage, and the dry dust of busted masonry. A gap between the buildings lay ahead, offering a peek at the street Ironhide battled the Decepticons on. Several vehicles, dumpsters, mounds of crumbled building facades, and fabric awnings that once covered store entrances choked the narrow gap and tumbled into the alley. It offered cover for her to hide behind while peeking to locate friend and foe.
Slinking toward the opening, she stopped, her instincts screaming danger. Crouching behind a deserted minivan, she gazed around her and upward, looking for the enemy. No hint of Cybertronian glittered in the sun. Ironhide's incessant comments and the crashes as he engaged the Decepticons covered any subtle sounds she could hear. Velocity waited. Her electrical field hummed close to her, and nothing entered its boundary.
The rubble pile between the buildings shifted, and a dumpster moved a fraction of an inch.
There. There hid the enemy.
Locking her optics on the hill of detritus, Velocity searched for the tiniest hint of movement to give away her target. A tiny twitch along the ground, and the predator identified her prey. What appeared to be several wrecked and twisted cars slammed into the side of a building, partially covered by the torn awning, untangled into a Decepticon hiding between a couple of totaled sedans. The enemy lay on his side, arms along a back bumper, holding a bow with a thick arrow notched. Somehow the 'Con draped his form around the wreckage to blend into the crumpled steel. Velocity realized she could have stepped on the mech without knowing he was there.
A cold smile pulled at Velocity's features, and she clamped down the purr rumbling in the back of her vocals. She had not hunted in a long time. On all fours, she crept from behind the minivan and toward the hidden 'Con. Had she a tail, it would have twitched with anticipation and excitement. Quickly closing into pouncing distance, her ped hit a rock, bouncing forward, pinging off a piece of metal. From the trash heap, a set of pale blue optics stared at her. Her cover was blown, and Velocity did the only thing she could; she charged.
XxxX
Miriam sat at the table, a bottle of water in her hand. Her head pounded from stress, lack of sleep, and minimal food. Very few people had shown up to the bunker. The Secretary of Energy, a portly man with a bald head and jowls, paced the room; his aide arrived with him, a young man with sleep-tousled hair and a shrew-like face. She ignored that they had come together, looking like they had been pulled out of bed. Hushed rumors of relationships meant nothing at a time like this. A couple of others had panicked and fled to the shelter, but not enough, and that worried her. As sixth in the line of Presidential succession, she did not want to run the country on a good day, and especially not during an emergency.
Candles flickered around them, the only source of light. Three waxy pillars sat ringed around the aide, illuminating the stacks of papers he shuffled through. Brian, the aide, looked up. "We have an hour to five days."
Miriam focused on the young man. "What?"
Brian opened his mouth to speak, but the Secretary of Energy, Mark Cranson, answered her. "The nuclear reactors. If the technicians cannot SCRAM the reactor cores, we have very little time before they meltdown."
Blinking in disbelief, Mariam took a long drink from her water bottle, wishing it was stronger. "Explain," she demanded after swallowing.
Cranson pulled out a chair and sat. Leaning his elbows on the table, he looked worn and nervous. Brian offered him a pat on the hand. The gesture seemed to embolden the older man, and he began speaking. "When power is lost, the motors holding the control rods above the reactors fail, and the control rods drop into the reactor core, stopping the fission process. The problem is that sometimes not all fission is neutralized, and a small percentage continues. Core Catchers are in place to contend with this, but they, too will eventually fail.
"Without pumps, the water within the cooling lines is not circulated. As this small mass of non-neutralized material continues its fission, heat builds up in the pipes around the reactor, turning it into steam which expands. Eventually, you have a catastrophic failure and Chernobyl all over again, but worse." He buried his head in his arms.
Turning her attention to Cranson's aide, the SecDef blinked in disbelief. Brian nodded slowly. "That is an oversimplification, but yes, that is what will happen."
"You said what will, not what could." Miriam's low-grade headache turned the pain up a couple of notches.
"There are ninety-two nuclear reactors in the United States. Five power plants totaling nine reactors are within fifty miles of our location. If the SCRAM works, we have five days to restart the cooling process. If the SCRAM did not work, we have a couple of hours before the twenty-three plants and thirty-five reactors make most of the east coast uninhabitable. Do you want to wager how many will meltdown?"
The Secretary of Energy moaned, the noise muffled by his arms and the table.
Paul stepped into the room, sweat soaking his shirt, the shoulder holster obvious for everyone to see. "Reports are coming in, and it isn't good. From what people are saying, the White House is gone, destroyed overnight by a group of alien robots."
"Has anyone seen the President?" A sliver of hope still smoldered within the SecDef but hearing that the Cybertronians had destroyed the White House, the symbol of the nation, the government, snuffed that hope out.
Paul shook his head. "No. Gather everything you can: food, water, blankets, candles, matches, everything. We are moving locations and getting out of the city before the looting starts."
The CID agent turned to leave when Cranson lifted his head and asked, "How? How do we carry all this stuff and get out of D.C.? I haven't hiked in years; I won't make it two blocks with my knee."
A sly smile tipped Paul's babyish features. "I hope you can ride a horse."
XxxX
A handful of steps to build momentum and Velocity leapt, powerful hypercoils designed for running propelled her toward her target. Claws extended, the femme aimed for the mech's optics. Peds slammed into her chest, then vaulted her into the street. Scraping pavement and paint, she tumbled to a stop. The mech had used her momentum against her.
Scrambling to stand up, Velocity shook off the dust as the mech stood.
Muddled colors, drab and dull, covered his armor. Slightly built, the Decepticon stood taller than her, but everyone did. The bow still held the notched arrow, pulling the string back and aiming toward Ironhide, the 'Con left himself open to attack. Again, Velocity charged, slamming into the mech and wrapping her arms around his waist. The impact sent them both crashing to the ground as a fist repeatedly crashed against her helm, jarring her gyros. She ignored them and tried to anchor the lethal claws on her ped into dingy armor and rake it open. Before she found purchase, a hand clamped onto her shoulder and yanked her backward.
Twisting to swing at the newcomer, Velocity found Ironhide staring at her from arm's length. "Would ya' stop?" He shook her like a naughty kitten.
In sharply spoken Cybertronian, the newcomer snapped, "I was helping Ironhide." He stalked towards her, anger shimmering in his pale optics
Dangling from Ironhide's grip, Velocity retorted, "How was I supposed to know?" Still considering taking a swipe at the new mech.
The old mech grabbed the Decepticon and pulled him into an embrace. Velocity dropped a few espes to the pavement when Ironhide released her and wrapped his other arm around the newcomer. With soft reverence, he purred, "Primus, I've missed you."
Ignored and the surge of the fight seeping away, realization and embarrassment crashed into Velocity. Crossing her arms over her chest, she tried to look anywhere else. Her optics lingered on a headless opponent dangling from the third floor, dripping fluids onto the street. Revolted, she watched another Decepticon weakly flail in the road; a bolt, the one she saw notched in a bow, sticking out of his head, a shot to the processor.
Eventually, Ironhide spoke, "Velocity, this is Chromia."
Glancing at the pair, the red femme mumbled, "Yeah, I figured that out." She dropped her helm in slight submission, apologies sitting on the back of her vocals. Picking at a scrape on her arm, she waited for the verbal assault.
Ironhide barked with laughter. For his part, the Autobot warrior did not appear mad that she had attacked his bonded. Still holding onto his femme, he swayed side to side, euphoria dancing through his electrical field. "Chromia, this is Velocity; she has never seen another femme and is the Prime's bondmate."
Chromia's optic shutters flew open in surprise. She looked between Velocity and Ironhide; confusion etched across her features. Pulling away from her mate's embrace, the older femme moved toward Velocity, scrutinizing her with every step. "She is a little thing."
"Yeah, but she makes up for it in attitude; I'll tell ya all about it later." Excitement and humor still shaded the mech's words. "I need her out of here. She is mostly a noncom, and the Big Bot needs her safe. Get her back to the base. I'll join you once this is done." Ironhide slapped his mate on the aft.
A rumble of laughter met Chromia's glare.
"The base," Velocity yelped, remembering why she wandered Tranquility. "It's gone. The Decepticons blew it up."
Immediately the joy of the reunion evaporated. A deep frown pulled at Ironhide's features. "Figured that with the dust cloud. I'll tell Optimus, but you need to leave. Chromia, get her out of the city."
Velocity pressed her lip components together in a frown. She didn't want to leave, but she didn't want to stay in a warzone either. Leaving with Chromia offered little appeal; Ironhide trusted his other half, but she did not. Defiantly propping her hands on her hips, she balked, "No. I'm going with you."
Ironhide and Chromia jerked at the vehemence in her words, their attention fully on her. The three of them stood staring at each other. Ironhide frowned, Velocity lifted her chin, and Chromia watched the other two curiously. Several seconds ticked by, each waiting for the others to make a move.
A lone Decepticon stepped into an intersection. His hate-filled roar shook the remaining windows in the buildings.
Ironhide lunged, grabbed Velocity by her armor, and shoved her behind him as he turned toward the newcomer. Stumbling, the red femme dove for the cover of an alleyway only to find it blocked by another Decepticon. Clawed hands hooked onto her before she could backpedal and lifted her off the ground.
"The Prime's - what's the human word? - Whore." he spat in her face, walking into the street. Red optics roved over her form greedily, the sharp angles of his facial plates tipped into a murderous smile.
Velocity desperately looked for help from the other Autobots. She would not receive any.
Ironhide grappled with a Decepticon, each trying to pin the other while they traded blows. The 'Con picked up the old 'Bot and slammed him to the ground. Ironhide caught the ped before it crashed into his face.
Chromia had notched another arrow and aimed away from her mate. "They have us surrounded," she yelled, letting the arrow fly.
The Decepticon holding Velocity hissed, "Let's end this war." He pulled a short blade from his back and adjusted his grip. Holding her away from him, he angled the point of the blade for a killing stroke.
Time slowed for the red femme. The sky darkened, and shadows cast by the bright sun retreated, hiding beneath what made them. The smell of the Decepticon's oils and fluids assaulted her olfactory sensors. The pulse of energon through his lines kept time with his pump. Velocity snarled, her clawed hands hooked into his wrist and quickly shredded his armor. Thin fingers slipped into the opening, allowing her claws to slice lines, hypercoils, anchors, and cyberneuro relays. Before the Decepticon could plunge the blade into her, the hand holding her became useless. She dropped to the ground in a shock-absorbing crouch.
Velocity didn't hesitate. As the Decepticon cradled his useless hand, she leapt. Landing on his chest, the femme used the talons on a ped to anchor herself. Growling her rage, she ranked her claws over his facial plates, tearing at his optics. The short blade forgotten, the mech punched her on the back, then tried to push her away. The talons on her peds dug into his armor, and he squealed in pain. Then returned to punching at her. The blows hurt, but he could not put enough force behind them to stop her as she tore apart his face.
With the shutters gone and part of his facial plates missing, the Decepticon's optic lay exposed. Velocity ripped it out of the mech's helm with a spray of energon. The femme did not stop there. Plunging her hand and forearm through the opening, she blindly tore at whatever her finger touched. The Decepticon jerked and dropped to his knees as his energon and other fluids coated her. The punches stopped, and the mech went limp. Velocity rode him as he collapsed sideways to the street. Detaching herself from the dying mech, she pulled her arm out of his helm, and part of his processor remained tangled in her claws. Shaking her hand, it loosened and fell beside the mech it belonged to. "I'm not a whore," she hissed.
Spinning, Velocity saw Ironhide trying to hold off three attackers, and more Decepticons entered the area. A hand clamped around her wrist. The red femme turned to face the new opponent and found Chromia trying to pull her down the street.
"We have to go. There are too many of them," Chromia snapped and continued to drag Velocity along.
Glancing at the old warrior, Velocity asked, "But Ironhide?"
"He's buying us time; as soon as we leave, he will retreat." The worry thickened the older femme's words.
XxxX
"Push," the nurse instructed. "Come on harder. You don't want to be here all day."
Mikaela strained, her face turning red and the muscles in her neck tightening beneath the flushed skin.
Sam held her shoulders, pushing her forward into a curled position. They were both covered in sweat, and he was certain his deodorant had disappeared long ago.
Micky relaxed a little, and her head flopped against his shoulder as she sucked at the air.
"Good job, Momma," the nurse between her legs chortled. "A few more pushes like that, and you will be able to meet your daughter."
"Hi, Spot," Sam greeted.
"Not Spot," Mikaela ground between her teeth as another contraction wretched through her. Sam supported her again, helping her curl forward to push little Spot out.
"Keep pushing, keep pushing, keep pushing," Lieutenant Patel coached, her hands gently tugging and guiding. "Almost there."
A wet splat proceeded the soft cries of a baby.
Sam watched Patel lay the cheesy, vernix caseosa-coated baby on Mikaela's chest. Tiny eyelids opened for a second before they closed, and the infant snuggled against her mother. Mikaela carefully touched their too-small baby, trailing fingertips along perfect little hands.
Tears welled in Sam's eyes, making it hard to see his daughter. So small and delicate - every emotion he could think of swelled in his chest, and he found it hard to breathe. "I love you," he finally whispered.
"Do you want to cut the cord?" The nurse asked, holding up the switchblade.
Sam followed the slick pink and blue umbilical trailing from his baby and disappearing between Micky's legs. Several binder clips pinched it shut in different locations.
"I'm good," he informed her and returned to gawking at his wife and child.
XxxX
Velocity trotted alongside Ironhide's mate. They did not full-out run, mainly due to trying to avoid stumbling blindly into a pack of Decepticons.
Clearing the downtown area, strip malls intermingled with gas stations then finally, just houses lined the streets. This area offered spacious multi-story homes with two-car garages and deep yards. They stopped, and Chromia bent over, bracing her hands on her knees.
"I'm too old for this slag. We can hide around here," Chromia huffed as she vented. Taller and heavier, the older femme had not been designed for running.
"I don't think that's a good idea." The words drifted to them on the wind.
Velocity spun to see a Decepticon detach himself from the side of a house. "Fuck me," she snapped.
The enemy mech stalked towards them, a smile on his plates. "Greetings, Chromia. I am surprised to see…."
Before he could finish his sentence, a red and blue flame-covered Peterbilt launched itself from between two houses and slammed into the Decepticon. Sparks showered the area where momentum dragged them both along the concrete.
Velocity ran toward Optimus as he transformed and began pounding the Decepticon with a massive fist. Movement alerted the femme to others, and more Decepticons poured out of the abandoned houses. Their optics locked on either her or Optimus.
Chromia backed toward her. "I didn't come here to fragging die," she snapped to no one.
After dispatching the Decepticon, Prime stood, stopping the ring of Decepticons advancing. "If I have to, I will kill you all."
"Not before we terminate your mate and you in the process." Someone taunted.
Velocity backed up until Optimus's energy field crackled along her back. Glancing back, she shared a look with her mate. Chromia joined them, completing the defensive triangle. The Prime turned his attention to her; only rapid blinking gave away his surprise.
"We will have a long discussion later," the Prime told the older femme.
Chromia only nodded.
More Decepticons joined their fellows, and Velocity knew they were surrounded. She could kill only one at a time, and after quick math, they were outnumbered a dozen to one. "Fuck shit, mother fucking cocksucking assholes. Shit, I am tired of this," she snarled, knowing she would be the primary target.
"Yes," her mate agreed.
Above, the sky darkened. Velocity, out of habit, looked up to check the clouds. No clouds marked the clear blue. Instead, an inky dot blotted out part of the sun. Around it, fireballs began to fill the air.
Several Decepticons followed her gaze skyward as a meteor slammed into a house down the street. Several more crashed in the yards and buildings. Around her, the Apocalypse rained, but along her bond, Optimus buzzed with elation. As the meteors continued, the first ones reassembled themselves and stood up while more crashed around Tranquility.
Optimus rushed the Decepticon line as they watched the blazing fireballs fall around them. His attack scattered the enemy, and they turned into the waiting arms of the new Cybertronians.
From there, the battle became a chaotic whirl of noise and violence. Velocity stayed near Optimus, using his electrical field to know his movements when she could not see him. Their bond was wide open, and she felt the torrent of emotions from her mate. The increasing strain and exhaustion, the pain from half-healed wounds, and the relief from knowing others covered his back. Over it all, guilt and revulsion from having to kill his own people, at times, this emotion became so overpowering, Velocity wanted to sob from the weight of it all.
Chromia moved with them, keeping Decepticons from flanking the Prime and barking orders to Velocity, where to attack, when to fall back. A Decepticon rushed them; an ax held high. Chromia engaged first, keeping the foolish mech occupied. Velocity slipped in low and fast, with her claws, crippled the 'Con before he realized she had invaded his electrical field. Optimus turned and grabbed the enemy, lifting him high before slamming him to the concrete. Stunned, the 'Con did not have a chance as Chromia shoved an arrow into his spark chamber.
They moved this way through the battleground. Those foolish enough to approach met their end. Velocity stopped thinking, letting the beast take over, becoming a lethal blur of red and talons.
Oils and spilled energon choked the streets and lawns. The bodies of Cybertronians lay across yards and roads. Houses sat demolished, some ablaze, others scattered and torn apart.
Another mech approached, his stride sure and steady.
Velocity snarled a warning and readied to launch herself at the threat. A familiar field pressed against hers as Optimus clamped a hand on her shoulder.
"Stand down," her mate said, his words gentle, but his grip kept her from moving.
As she relaxed, suppressing the desire to rend metal, Optimus pressed against her back. He bumped against her armor, touching as much of her as possible, then slid his hand over her chest, covering her where her soul sat.
The new mech stopped, his optics focused on the Prime's hand on her chest. Quickly he shifted his gaze to Optimus. "I believe I have arrived at a critical juncture."
"Yes, Ultra Magnus, you have," Optimus rumbled.
Around them, the new mechs assembled, their optics on the Prime. Some knelt, some bowed, and a few stood tall and rigid. Wheeljack aided a limping Ratchet into view. Above, the blot grew larger, and the ship's lines distinguished themselves from the sun's glow.
XxxX
Author's Notes:
Yes, Ironhide is alive along with several others; he is not in the last scene.
Scram procedures for nuclear reactors was greatly simplified, and information on the amount of time they could remain offline was based on a report from the Nuclear Regulatory Commission in 2009. I ignored more current statistics and took heaping amounts of artistic license.