Author's Notes: Thanks for the reviews and remember to set "Story alert" on the lower left to keep up with updates. They will be sporadic on this version. First two chapters are a darker what if future time line that would have made more sense with last chapter and this one together. Alas, life mangled the writing urge and time buried it.
As always, I do not own Transformers in any shape, size or form. Anyone wanting to expand on plot bunnies herein feel free to e-mail me for additional help or suggestions. Links to inspired stories by other authors are in my profile. No Transformers were hurt in the writing of this chapter.
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Fight for the Future (part 2)
The Operations center in the Ark mountain base flowed with life both mechanical and human. The orange painted metal walls absorbed none of their chatter or the distinctly metal sounding movements of their gears and parts. The Autobots updated their battle reports while monitoring Prime's recovery under Ratchet's care.
At the center conference table, Bumblebee angled around Ironhide's black armored chassis to grab a schematic for his human family with an armored yellow hand from the giant sized table. "Thanks big guy," Sam accepted it gratefully, laying it down on their human size table to highlight areas.
"I still process this is a weak spot," Mikeala circled the narrow canyon on the far east of the rocky area. "Ravage or Rumble would fit between the sensors undetected. I did last test." She twirled the pencil super speed in her mechanized fingers as she thought.
"They lack your beauty to dazzle those sensors," Bumblebee's English accent no longer seemed strange to them as he sat on the floor by them.
"I saw her first in the second grade and she is still my girl," Sam stated firmly, placing an arm around his wife being careful to not entangle her long dark hair.
"Mine too or at least my parts," the scout teased back transforming his fingers and hand to his war cannon. He pointed out silver welds.
"How long are you going to ride that repair?" Sam quipped.
"Ahem, may I have your attention please," Preceptor's scholarly vocal interrupted them. The red and blue tall mech stood behind them, one black fist curled tight. His shoulder concussion rifle cast a thin shadow across the map.
"If you remember not everyone here shares your extensive scientific vocabulary," Mikeala exchanged a knowing look with her husband. His hazel eyes met her blue ones before rolling upward again.
"Contemplating the parallel time paradox I have discovered requires a base minimum of knowledge. Specifically time travel with time dilation based on velocity in the theory of special relativity as exemplified by the twin paradox, as well as gravitational time dilation in the theory of general relativity. Additionally, David Lewis' analysis of compossibility and logical paradoxes. " He stopped, realizing all eyes and optics were on him and many were unfocused or blank. His closed hand opened revealing multi colored human keys, "Focus point viewed against the context of pertinent facts relating to this situational factor."
Mikeala spoke first, her enhanced system processing faster than her husband's mind. "Focus point as in important? Those are my car keys, or were. Sam painted them yellow and black as a prank and the others found Bee shaped charms and beads to add to them. I lost them years ago, before we were even married."
"They were encased in the throne below Optimus' spark. Significance?" the scientist asked, trying to get them back thinking.
"Trophy of their ability to sneak onto the old Nest base and leave undetected?" Bumblebee guessed.
"You misunderstand," Perceptor corrected, transforming to his giant size microscope mode. "See these radiant particles?" A holographic image displayed to the side. The image sparkled with black and purple floating dots across the molecular structure of the keys. "A portal from now was opened backwards into the past to acquire them, altering the normal flow of events."
"Altered how?" Sam echoed, wrapping one arm around his wife's waist.
"Specifics unknown. Please describe the details of their disappearance."
"The day they went missing was the Quasar lab explosion," Ironhide rumbled, his optics altering to almost purple in anger and pain.
"I do remember," Mikeala said. "I was looking for my keys to drive home and the lab blew. Annabelle was caught in the blast field."
"She survived but we lost Bluestreak and Mirage," Jazz's blue visor dimmed nearly grey as he grieved for his friends.
"Wait a minute," Sam interrupted. "How do the keys factor in?"
"Multiple probabilities," Perceptor began transforming back to his bi pedal mode. The long scope transferred to his shoulder, the glass plates rotating out to allow the energy weapon charges to rotate in. "Mikeala could have offered a ride to Annabelle keeping her clear, or stopped to talk to the others, delaying their access to that area or changed the sequence of current time in ways we could not imagine."
"Can we return the keys?" Bumblebee asked what they were all wondering.
"Yes to restore the time flow but our world as it exists will end. The time flow will resume with our lives then, for better or worse," he admitted.
Silence filled the room as they contemplated a future worse than theirs. Ironhide shuttered his optics, imagining a normal Annabelle growing through her childhood without pain and surgeries. 'Hearing her laugh and chatter on would be a joy instead of the limited speech she endures,' he processed.
Sam wrapped both arms around his wife, breathing in her scent while trying to remember only her perfume and not the present tang of metal. No matter how many times he heard it was in his mind and not real, he felt the alienness of her implants separating them. None of their body language was lost on the youngest scout as he watched.
"My vote is to return them. Anybot disagree?" he asked. There were none. Preceptor's fingers closed over the keys before he turned and left for his lab.
May 5th, 2012 – NEST Base
Diego Garcia Island
The keys shimmered in to fall onto the desk top, the faintest pop sound betraying the time crossing event. Mikeala turned at the sound, spotting the yellow and black bumblebee colors. Her long black hair swirled as she moved forward. "Here they are. Strange, I swore I looked there a minute ago. Oh well," she shrugged, itching at the sudden sensation down her arm and side. "Owww. Need bug spray around here. Dang mosquitoes." Ambling out of her personal guest quarters, she noticed Annabelle sitting under the palm tree by the main doors.
"Are we in the mood for ice cream?" she asked the young girl while pocketing her keys.
"Yes yes yes! Can we get fudge caramel ripple with extra cherries and nuts? My throat feels funny and I know ice cream would make it all better please?" She asked breathlessly, dropping her datapad onto the ground by her pink backpack.
"Sure, let's go. I have time to spare," the young woman gestured for her to lead the way. Her bubbling chatter brought a smile from even the most hardened soldier as they moved across the base towards the commissary. Alien sensors detected their traces as both mechs strode around the corner.
Bluestreak noticed the backpack and datapad first, his targeting enhanced optics locking in on the unique shapes. "Annabelle knows better and I know that the others including her parental mech have spoken with her leaving her belongings, especially a datapad, with our technology accessible to others. She can quote the treaty and the rules as though Prowl was her guardian and not Ironhide. I have always wondered why him. Bumblebee with Sam made sense, as he is a mini bot and scout with a hot car alt mode for a young man. Why such a powerful truck alt mode for a little girl? She is small and her old child seat needed some room but not that big a cab. Only Optimus interior sleeper cab is larger."
Mirage glanced at his friend, considering going invisible and sneaking off with the backpack to leave him talking to the empty air. Venting in exasperation, he pointed towards the commissary. "Residual energy patterns indicate they went that way," his vocal mixing with Bluestreak's still running monologue.
"I wonder if ice cream tastes like aged energon? I remember that and I know you remember Mirage. My family use to own the energon factory on the main station base at Praxus. I remember touring the factory with my parental femme and asking about the vats and how did they discover the cube shape was the best for storage and dispensing when we need refueling?" Bluestreak continued all the way to the human sized building. Both girls walked out at that moment, ice cream cones clutched firmly in their hands.
Less than a second of supersonic screaming alarms gave them warning. Two sets of blue optics snapped towards Wheeljack's lab as battle computers engaged. Energon sped through their lines allowing movement faster than human thought. Automatically they cupped their armored hands around the girls, shielding them instead of their own systems.
The massive blast threw debris straight up as billowing smoke and fire rose into the sky. They watched as the upper reinforced walls melted and ran, red molten rebar flowing down like slow moving lava over white concrete. Their optics shuttered rapidly as building debris rained down among shredded pieces of palm trees.
"Stay here," Mirage ordered and hesitated long enough to see the girls obeyed. Coughing and blinking themselves, they ran back inside the building as the dropped ice cream began melting on the doormat. Both Autobots transformed down into their alt modes racing towards the fire.
:: Autobot teams to the lab, ascertain limits safe for human emergency crews to approach. Wheeljack report:: Optimus ordered, shifting from mech to Prime and Commander as he ran their direction.
The air shifted as the time line changed and locked.
Optimus slid to a stop, tearing up concrete as his huge feet pads dug in. He felt the matrix under his chest plates humming in approval but receiving no direct link. He never vented hard, optics dimming as his Prime link to the two mechs failed, feeling Mirage and Bluestreak's sudden offlining.
Wheeljack never grieved for them, blaming himself over not monitoring the lab better and becoming dangerously cross-looped in his processing. Emergency crews helped the Transformers douse the fire, paying up bets on who would cause their next call out. Annabelle watched them laughing and talking with Mikeala and Sam instead of being pulled out from under the broken palm tree and crumbled building edge, her face and throat damaged.
Optimus, Prowl and Ratchet never had to restrain and stasis lock Wheeljack when his processor glitched. They never debated and agonized on whether to reprogram him.
On that day instead, Prowl noticed the pattern to the Decepticon strikes and arranged a battle plan. Optimus led the counter defenses, using Wheeljack's new gun that fused to his hand, allowing Megatron to escape instead of falling before his normal Ion rifle. Ratchet removed Optimus hand with the still fused rifle handle, grumbling about inventions and power limits instead of directing the emergency surgery to repair Mikeala as she lay dying with a missing arm and side damage from Soundwave's blast.
Mikeala got romantic with Sam over the next weeks, marrying and enjoying their honeymoon to conceive their daughter instead of fighting for her life in critical care.
Megatron returned to the Decepticon base for repairs, keeping his dominance over the Decepticons instead of Starscream assuming his command and leading them. His plan to take Optimus' spark as a trophy of his command never crossed his processor, too busy planning ways to overthrow Megatron and grab Decepticon command for himself.
And the time flow continued…normally...