Author's Notes: Oh...Well this is a tad late isn't it? Tee-hee. Ah well I had some tweeking to do. Couldn't be helped. I hit a snag whille writing this chapter and it wasn't finished until yesterday. So there's my excuse...and I'm stickin' to it!
Phase Nine: Lost in Translation
Chapter Twenty-four
A cacophonous "Huh?" sounded as the collective group of humans looked at the Mech as though he was crazy...or at least had several chief wires crossed.
Perceptor stood before them, optics positively aglow with obvious enthusiasm for the purposed endeavor. Of all of them, Annie looked the most skeptical as she softly lulled Becky back to the peaceful snooze that the cynical outburst had disturbed.
"Does Optimus know anything about this?" She asked.
"Of course! I have laid out the proposal to Optimus Prime," Perceptor replied with a nod, "And he felt the plan had merit and has given his approval, but only under strict guidelines."
The humans glanced at one another, attempting to gage each other's thoughts from mere expressions, however it seemed as though they all were as skeptical as the next.
"Wait, wait, wait," Craig said, motion his hands in a halting gesture, "You mean…you guys have schools?"
Standing beside Perceptor was Wheeljack, Jazz, and Bluestreak and the four of them glanced quickly at one another in mild incredulity before softly chuckling.
"Of course we do!" Wheeljack replied. "The Iacon Academy's the most prestigious institution on Cybertron."
"Depending on who you ask," Bluestreak added.
"Oh, the Tarn Conservatory's is all talk. We have the merits to prove it," Wheeljack replied with a dismissive wave. Bluestreak looked as though he were about to retort when Perceptor made a strange noise, supposedly the equivalent to a Mech clearing their throat, to glean their attention.
"If we could continue with the subject at hand…?" He asked politely though it was plain to see that he was slightly piqued at the conversation steering off on a tangent.
"So…I don't understand what you're getting at," Brea remarked, in effect redirecting the conversation back onto course. "You…want us to go to school?"
The Mechs all chuckled. "Essentially yes, but not to attend as a student," Perceptor assured quickly, "But rather as a teacher of sorts. It is collectively agreed that if we were to, for all intents and purposes, introduce the Human species to our young populous it could better suit us in the long run. There is a class readying to graduate within a number of orns and will soon have a credible say in politics as well as gaining the license to vote for public office. Should we endow them with a form of empathy for Humans and organics in general, I feel we may have a far greater advantage then should we ignore this possible demographic. The greatest benefit that I see in speaking to the younger generation is that most if not all, are not ingrained with a sense of prejudice concerning organics as they older generations are."
"So…you want us to go and persuade these kids to feel sorry for us?" Craig asked frankly.
"Well…" Perceptor replied in passable assent. "I would not choose such vocabulary as to insinuate that we wish to instate sympathy, in preference to empathy."
"We want them to understand our situation rather then just feeling sorry for us," Brea interpreted with a nod from Perceptor.
"Precisely!" He said. "They need to view you as 'who's' not 'whats'."
"But what about keeping this place a secret?" Caleb asked. "I thought we were all underground 'till the trial. Wasn't that like the number one rule?"
"Ah, but that's the beauty of it, Ceb!" Jazz interjected with a grin. "No one's gonna know 'bout this place just 'cause a couple of ya make a somewhat public appearance. You ain't the only humans in Iacon y'know."
"But who would go?" Brea asked and a disquieted feeling crept over her as Perceptor looked towards her, optics directed squarely at her. Already she knew the answer to her own question…but she hoped.
"In truth, Brea, I was most keen on your participation," He said. Brea felt her insides seize and a voice rang out clear in her head, 'No fucking way!' But she tried to keep her face as neutral as possible and not betray anything. He continued, "Your ability to understand and speak Cybertronian would be something I feel could be a great asset and might better our chances in persuading the young Mechs."
Brea was more then skeptical as her mind began to race. Never had she even considered leaving the Sanctuary, unless it was to go back home to Earth. Her stomach churned and she felt a little light headed. Oh dear god, she wasn't going to faint was she? Just what she needed…to faint…right in front of Caleb and everyone. Yeah, that would go down spectacularly! "Uh…I don't think that's such a great idea...see…I'm kind of on a hit list and…"
Perceptor surprised her when his mouth twitched into a small smile, "I am aware that Emirate Xeon has sought your life," He replied kindly, "But he wouldn't dare try anything if you were to go to the Academy. Presupposing that he knew for a fact that you are alive and that you would indeed be there, such an action could bee interpreted as solidifying his guilt in the upcoming trial. His entire estate, everything he has accomplished and then some, is at risk. He would be a fool to jeopardize it for petty revenge. And I do not feel I am out of line when I say that Xeon may be a scoundrel, but he is by no means a fool. He won't try anything."
She wasn't convinced and it appeared as though they could plainly see that because Jazz suddenly cut in. "It ain't like you'll be wandering around all by your lonesome neither. If anyone tries to mess with ya, there'll be Mechs there to kick 'im off."
She didn't smile, her mind was far to busy running circles around completely illogical scenarios.
Perceptor suddenly crouched down close to her, causing Brea to flinch. She looked up into the Mech's face, slightly disquieted by the intense expression. "Brea, please," he said softly, "I know you have little reason to trust me, and Primus knows your apprehension is far more then adequately founded, but I implore you to consider this proposal. What we are trying to accomplish is for the greater good for your people and I swear to you I will do all in my power to ensure your safety."
She bit her lip and she didn't say anything for a long moment. She wanted to refuse, politely of course, but for some nameless reason her mouth would not move when her brain told it to. She was aware of the expectant looks from those massed around her and it did not seem to help her current bout of 'Tongue-tied-ness'.
It was relatively quiet in the clearing near the pantry, save for the occasional light chatter or the playful giggle of a baby.
Brea was lost amongst the torrent of her own thoughts when Fixit came up along side her and sat down, holding what looked to be one of the foil-blankets tucked under his arm. A little ways off, Stakeout and Sea Watch were playing with Becky, entertaining her with a metal sphere that rattled when shaken. The older humans were off working in the garden, or sleeping, or some other nameless activity. Sea Watch, it seemed, was one of the Micromasters who had an intense fascination with Becky and was always willing to watch her if need be; playing with her and teaching her things that Brea was moderately convinced were far too advanced for an infant. And despite Annie's instances that she was far too young to do so, he was also liable to try and coax her to standing or to even attempt at walking. As futile as it seemed, it was very endearing.
Brea barely registered Fixit's presence.
"So you're going?" He asked, genuinely surprised as he handed her the folded piece of the foil-cloth. Brea's mind was still entirely somewhere else and she gave him a weak smile, accepting it without much thought. "Yeah…me and Craig."
Fixit smiled fondly at her. "You don't sound too happy."
"No, well yes, but it's not what you think…my head's just somewhere else," She replied absently, until she saw the Mech's face contort into slight alarm. She smiled. "It's just an expression. It means I'm busy thinking."
"Ah," He said. "So how did Perceptor convince you to go?"
Brea sighed and let her head flop down in a sign of resignation, which was all the elaboration she was willing to give. Fixit laughed and patted her on the shoulder, speaking to her jovially. "You'll do fine. Besides, if Craig's gonna be there too, you got nothing to be scared of. He'll watch out for you. They all will."
Brea nodded, mumbling noncommittally. She looked down at the folds of foil-cloth, seeming to notice it for the first time, and held it out in front of her. The excess cloth dropped away and Brea blinked at what the foil material had been fashioned up into. She turned her eyes over to Fixit. "Uh…what is this?"
He shrugged. "I think Annie called it a jak-ett."
Brea looked at him strangely and then, understanding, she broke out into a smile. "Oh. A jacket, you mean." A pause. "Wait, why do I need a jacket?"
"Not just you, Craig too. To keep your internal body temperature stabilized. The air outside is too low to for your own systems to cope and we don't need either of you getting hypothermia or anything like that. Perceptor will probably have the maintenance staff at the Academy turn up the heat in whatever room you're seminars will be held, but these are for 'just in case'."
"Oh…ok." Brea took a long look at the shiny material and scrunched her nose, muttering. "I'm gonna look like a bag of leftovers in this thing…"
"Practicality before style, small one," He told her, looking decidedly smug. She scrunched her nose up, sticking out her tongue at him, and flung the foil-coat over his head.
"Hey!" He cried as he reached up to tug it off. He looked down at Brea with an unamused frown, a contrast to Brea's smug grin. He reached out and poked her in the side, causing Brea to flinch away with a squeak. "Ah! Stop that!"
"What?" Fixit asked, smirking at the odd reaction. "You mean this?" He poked her again and Brea scooted away from him, biting back a laugh.
"Yes that!" She said, trying to sound angry. Fixit leaned over and reached out as if to grab her, but Brea scooted away, keeping his at bay with her foot. Fixit merely grabbed her ankle, his hand large enough that his fingers completely encased it, and pulled her back towards him. Brea squealed and tried to escape as soon as he let go of her ankle, but the Mech's hands shot out and grabbed her around the waist, lifting her up and setting her down in his lap. She squirmed against his grip, starting to get irritated…when his fingers wiggled into her stomach. She doubled over in an attempt to shield herself, giggling through her indignation. "Stop! I said-ah! Please! Stop it!"
Fixit mercifully stopped and Brea was allowed a moment to breathe. She looked up towards Fixit, intending to reprimand him, when he tossed the foil-coat over her head. "Hey!"
Everything had been set up. Perceptor and Bluestreak had been designated as Brea and Craig's chaperones for the outing and Annie had made sure Brea had washed the 'night' before. She attempted to do the same with Craig, but with less then successful results. Brea laid her head on her sleeping pad, mind all a-jumble with the next day's activities. She was a little more then nervous.
The 'morning' they were to set off, Brea was nudged awake by Craig. Groaning, she mashed her face into the sleeping pad, trying to ignore him. The man's deep chuckle was barely registered as she tried to drift back off. Brea jumped back to awareness when she was gripped by the shoulders and nudged again, none too softly. "C'mon, kiddo. Time for school." Had she gotten any adequate sleep, Brea might have found his words amusing, even a little comforting. However, in the aftermath of a less-then-successful attempt at a rejuvenating slumber, she wasn't feeling up to jests.
What proceeded was a very accurate re-enactment of the scene from Home Alone as the McCallisters ran about the house and hurried to pack everything and get ready to depart on their vacation. The scene in the Sanctuary was very much the same, excluding the house; people were scurrying about trying to get everything done and sorted out, yelling if anyone remembered where they stored what and if there was any of this or that left. The Micromasters had been lassoed into helping Annie pack the food and supplies into a large metal storage bin that would be taken with them to the Academy. When Brea mentioned the parallels of the situation, all three of the brothers put down their loads and clapped their hands to their faces, yelling 'Ahhhh!' in mockery.
The Micromasters paused, looking at the snickering humans with confusion and alarm. "What's wrong?" Sea Watched asked Sean as he past him with his load. The boy merely shrugged, "Nothing."
Ratchet came down as things were beginning to fall into place and some form of organization was reached; Perceptor, Jazz, Bluestreak, and Wheeljack soon after. He went over some guidelines with Perceptor and Bluestreak (mostly directed at the former) as well as some rules in case of emergencies, listing out situations and what he was to do in such cases…which essentially boiled down to 'get them the frag out of there'.
"If either of them does not feel comfortable with the situation or if those green-wired sparklings get too loud or rowdy," The medic admonished to the scientist, "You get them out of there so fast you better be leaving scorch marks."
Bluestreak nodded earnestly and Perceptor gave a curt tip of his head, seeming to have already gone through such a briefing. After the medic was done with them, he turned to Brea and Craig, expression sour. It was clear he was dubious about the whole arrangement.
"It's been set up with the Headmaster that this visit will last half an Orn with seminars being held every two joors, with each one lasting half a joor. That'll give you enough time in between to rest and such. You should be fine as far as that is concerned. Like I told these two, if you get scared or feel threatened or anything in any way, just give them the word. Are we clear?"
"Yes sir," Craig replied. Brea nodded. Ratchet focused in on her for a moment.
"Prowl has also wanted me to impart caution to you on his and Optimus' behalf. Especially you Brea, as you are more compatible in communications. You need to be extremely careful what you say regarding the trial and your experiences that could hinder our case. If you don't know or don't want to answer a question, don't. You're not there to be interrogated."
Brea nodded again. "Ok."
"And no mentioning of names either." The Medic added. "We don't know those green-wires' loyalties lay so it's best to be careful. Even amongst the staff."
"We understand," Craig replied, wrapping an arm around Brea's shoulders. "We'll be careful."
Brea felt absolutely humiliated in the foil-coat-jacket-thing and whenever she moves it crinkled faintly, but sounded like a cacophony to her and she made an effort not to move. While Craig look just as ridiculous, he seemed far less self-conscious of just how much so he did. But Brea was all too aware and she was very uncomfortable. Not the greatest state to start gallivanting off in…
Perceptor held both her and Craig cupped in his hands while Bluestreak carried the bin containing the supplies, following behind them. The trip up from the Sanctuary and through the halls was very uneventful and awkwardly quiet. They came up to a large door, bolted closed, with a security kiosk to the side. Perceptor muttered a quick apology and then set the two humans down. Stepping up to the kiosk, he performed the same act as Jazz had when he first took Brea down to the inner compound. The kiosk blinked and the doors slid away with a great hiss of pressure and cold air swept inside accompanied by the powerful sense of motion. As the doors slipped into the walls, leaving a clear path for them, Brea momentarily forgot her fashion woes and apprehensions.
Impossibly tall buildings stretched up to the sky like grasping fingers, walkways twisting around them at astounding heights with no visible supports. Lights danced from every sign and Markey, glowing characters of the Cybertronian script blinking down at them. Brea was instantly reminded of Times Square, but the visage didn't quite fit. For one thing…Iacon appeared to be a very clean city. Unlike Kaon, whose ground level streets had been littered with war refuse and leftovers, Iacon's floor level was clear and pristine. Metal walkways snaked around the base of buildings and towards entrances to the structures. The architecture wasn't anything like what was to be found in Kaon either, which was generally harsh and bold and…pointy. Theses buildings all around them now were tall and smooth and regal looking; gentle even.
Brea gawked as she looked up and up and up…the towers seemed to go on forever! She wobbled on her feet and Craig caught her before she could tip back into an ungraceful meeting of butt and floor.
His eyes trailed upwards as he steadied her. "…holy shit," Craig breathed in amazement. Brea nodded slowly, transfixed by it all. "It's beautiful."
"Thank you," Perceptor said as he bent down to scoop them back up, a pleased smile in his voice, "We're all quite proud of it."
"Just wait till you see the Academy!" Bluestreak added with an eager smile beaming on his face.
"How are we getting there?" Brea asked, suddenly feeling a twinge of excitement. Perceptor turned to his left as way of an answer. Parked beside the compound was what looked to be a space ship…maybe a little smaller? Brea instantly recognized it as a personal transport vehicle, AKA a Cybertronian car, like the ones she use to watch zip around the Kaon skyline from Xeon's window.
She beamed. "Awesome!"
Yay for tacky foil jackets! Michael Kors eat your heart out. But not really...you're my favorite judge on Project Runway and your purses are adorable! And if you haven't watched that show, you need to. It's on Bravo and it's fab-u-lous! My fav designer this season is Suade. He's such a sweetheart. I just wanna hug him! My fav of all seasns is Chris. Yay for drag queens! Even though I liked Christian's work (he was the winner last season)...and his hair. Oh man, he pulls off porcupine like no one else! It's fierce! a cookie to anyone who gets that reference. Oh! And Halla at cha' boi! another cookie who knows that one as well.
Tim Gunn, if you weren't gay I'd ask you to marry me. XD