Here's the next chapter! Originally it was going to be twice as long, but I've decided to split it in two. FFV, responses to your reviews will be written at the bottom from now on. On another note, please enjoy my readers! It tried to put some humour into this one.


Chapter Four: The Faces of Tomorrow—Part One

"Mommy, what are these?" The six year-old girl who spoke held up a bundle of faded papers, and her mother's face momentarily adopted a look of mild surprise. Carefully, the woman reached out to take them from her daughter's hands.

"Where did you find these?" She asked quietly as she reverently unfolded them and spread them out on the desk she was currently sitting at, having been writing out a report of her unit's last recon mission.

"In the box of books," Titania replied, pointing eagerly at the aforementioned box where salvaged books for the children were stored. There was everything ranging from picture books to twelfth grade textbooks.

The six year-old eagerly stood on her tip-toes, trying to see the papers over the edge of the desk; "So? So? What is it?" she demanded, and Miko chuckled lightly, pulling the girl up onto her lap where she could see the papers more easily.

"These are star charts," she answered, and a finger traced the lines that connected various labelled dots, "they show constellations in the night sky."

The six year-old frowned; "What's a constellation Momma?"

"It's a picture made of stars," Miko answered simply.

"Ooh…" The look of deep contemplation on Titania's face was the only warning Miko had before the girl asked; "Mommy, where did all the stars go?"

Miko ran a hand through her daughter's brown hair, sighing, "You can't see them anymore," she told the girl, "The clouds cover them up now."

Titania's shoulders slumped in disappointment; "Oh."

"I remember your father once tried pointing out the constellations to me," Miko murmured, resting her chin on her daughter's head as she stared nostalgically at the charts before her, "It was after he came back from Cybertron the first time; I asked him which of the stars he thought it was," she chuckled at the memory, "I wasn't expecting an answer, really, but then I ended up being treated to a boring astronomy lecture somehow and was tempted to throw him off the top of the base."

"Mommy!" the little girl reproached, horrified.

"Oh, relax sweetheart; that was a long time ago. And now…"

She sighed as her fingers traced Orion, the only constellation Jack had taught her before she'd lost even the vaguest shred of interest and left him standing there alone.

"Now I'd give anything to see the stars again."


The sun had risen about an hour ago, and Titania might've stopped to marvel at the colours of the untainted sunrise, a sight she'd never seen before, if not for the fact that her back had been turned towards it. The heat of the desert was making her dizzy, and certainly not helping her burns hurt any less. She trudged tiredly through the sand, having woken at dawn from a grief-induced, restless slumber filled with the last moments of her uncles' lives. With some effort, she had then forced herself to her feet, repeating Uncle Bill's last request over and over in her mind; save them all.

Now, she sluggishly forced one foot after the other in the direction of the distant highway, where an occasional dark blotch sped by on the horizon. Her pack remained strapped to her back, weighing her down even further, and every step shot pain through her body and made her head spin.

The sixteen year-old was vaguely aware that she was likely dehydrated, and not only had the overload from the bridge burned her rather badly, but the energon radiation from the blast was making her entire body shake painfully, her muscles sometimes suffering from random spasms. She thought idly that, if she wanted to live, she needed to get out of the sun and get somewhere safe where she could wait for the effects of the exposure to wear off.

If she was completely honest with herself, though, Titania would admit that she was sorely tempted to sit down and never get up again; to just stop and let it all end there with her because how, how, could anyone expect her to do this alone? She was never supposed to do this alone. It was only the voices of her loved ones in the back of her mind, desperately whispering to her—we're alive, you went back, it worked, we're still alive—which made her grit her teeth against the pain and take another step each time she was convinced she had taken her last.

She dragged her battered body and soul along like that for what seemed like an agonizing eternity, stopping only on those occasions when her trembling knees gave out; and then she would lie there for a moment before one of those whispering voices would speak louder than the others, calling frantically from behind the curtains of half-faded memories.

"—they need to be stopped!"

"There were no survivors."

"Decepticon BASTARDS!"

"Stay with me, Titania; I can't lose you too…"

And then she would pull herself shakily to her feet again and repeat the process over and over until, finally, she stood on the side of the currently empty highway, staring blankly down at the pavement, mind lost in half-jumbled thoughts of the then and the now.

Suddenly, loud music reached her before the rumble of an engine did, and she tiredly glanced up at the green off-road vehicle that was driving her way. It seemed familiar, and her thoughts told her she had seen it before, though never in person.

She walked out onto the highway at the sight of it, spreading her arms wide and standing in its path, vaguely aware she had to get its attention for some reason that a single voice was trying to scream at her from amid the many that drove her forward. She wished they would all shut up for just a moment so she could think, but, as the world seemed to brighten drastically, making the greens seem a little more yellow, and the yellows seem a little more orange, the voices only grew louder, ringing violently in her ears.

"Titania…"

"I have to do this!"

Brakes were slammed. Tires squealed. A door swung open and an angry face appeared above it, waving a petite fist in her direction.

"Hey! If you're looking for an anime convention, you're totally in the wrong place! So move it! I have a date with destiny to get to!"

She stumbled, hands against the hood of the truck, dry voice cracking as she tried to speak, knowing that, somehow, this loud girl and her car could help her. Had to help her.

"Prime…take me…to…Prime…"

Suddenly, the world grew too bright as it tilted and the cheerful yellow lines of the road rushed happily towards her.


Ratchet studied the formula for synthetic energon with a single-minded focus, knowing that the quiet hours of the early morn were the only chance he'd get to work on it today. He grumbled at the thought, already lamenting the soon-to-be deceased quiet that he had once had no short supply of. That had been before the humans came along, and Primus only knows how he managed to get anything done with them around, especially Miko. He shuddered at the thought of her and that infernal noise she called music. Hmm, he wondered if anyone besides Bulkhead would feel bad for the girl if he were to "accidentally" step on her favoured torture instrument.

The thought of how satisfying it would be, the high, discordant shriek and snap of the guitar strings as the hardened plastic cracked beneath his pedes, never to make a sound again, was enough to make him chuckle quietly.

"Is everything all right, Ratchet?"

"Gyah!" the medic whipped around, servo pressed over his chestplate, and optics wide. Optimus stood there, his face entirely impassive but for the optic ridge he had raised at the medic's reaction. "Optimus; are you trying to give me a Spark attack?!" How a mech the Prime's size could even sneak up on him like that would forever remain a mystery.

"I apologize, old friend; I did not mean to startle you."

"I…it's fine," Ratchet mumbled, turning back to his screen, feeling slightly embarrassed that his leader had been present during his darker musings, regardless of whether or not the Prime knew what those thoughts were. Recalling his little "daydream" made him pause, servos hovering over the console, frown on his faceplates.

Was he seriously taking pleasure from the imagined destruction of inanimate objects now? Seriously?

He wondered briefly what that said about his mental state, and he couldn't help but groan in despair at the implications and brace himself on the edges of the console.

"Are you not well?" Optimus asked, concerned.

"I'm fine," the old mech replied, "just thinking too much."

"Perhaps you should take a break then. The synthetic energon can wait."

"Maybe," he mumbled half-heartedly, rubbing at his helm; he paused, frowning, then glanced over his shoulder at Optimus. "I thought you were working on the weekly status report for Agent Fowler. He's stopping by to pick it up today, isn't he?"

"Yes," Optimus confirmed, "However, Bulkhead commed me a few moments ago; it would seem there has been an incident, and he will be arriving shortly for debriefing."

"Oh, wonderful," Ratchet muttered sarcastically as he considered what the nature of his recently discharged patient's "incident" could be, "What did he do this time? Don't tell me he walked into a powerline again; and so help me, if he damaged his repairs with that ridiculous 'dune-busting', I will personally weld him to the medical berth, and never let him leave!"

Behind the medic, Optimus' lips twitched briefly as though fighting an amused smile. It could never be said that the medic didn't care for his patients, no matter how idiotic the reason for their injuries may be.

Ratchet bit back a groan as he heard the familiar rumble of Bulkhead's engine, having momentarily forgotten one crucial thing. The arrival of Bulkhead meant the arrival of Miko.

Ugh. Primus, have mercy on my Spark.

Surprisingly, Bulkhead drove into the base without his radio on. There were no indecipherable human words being screamed and screeched alongside audio-aching instruments. There was no instant transformation and impromptu air guitar performance by both human and Bot that always ended with another frustrated shout of "I needed that!"

Instead, once Bulkhead pulled to a stop, there was an urgent cry from his human charge as she shoved the passenger door open.

"Ratchet! You gotta check this girl out!"

Ratchet's thought processes stuttered to a halt on a single word.

Girl?

No. Oh Pit no.

"Bulkhead! You brought another human?!" There was no way he would be retaining what was left of his sanity at this rate.

"Take it easy Doc bot!" Bulkhead cried, still in vehicle mode since Miko was now dragging a limp figure out from his interior; as soon as the unfamiliar human was completely clear, the Wrecker transformed, holding his servos up in a placating gesture, "It's not what it looks like."

Ratchet was about to give an angry retort, only to stop as Miko suddenly fell on her rear with an "umph!" still attempting to carry the mysterious teen, and began shouting loudly.

"Hey Doc! A little help over here? We've got a patient who's heavier than she looks!"

"Patient?" The medic repeated, bewildered, and finally looked down to study the figure intently. The girl's left hand was an absolute mess of black and red skin—undoubtedly a third degree burn; there would be definite nerve damage, though he couldn't say how much—and the left side of her face was marked with blisters and red skin, though he was relieved it was only a second degree burn, and it was fortunate her left eye was untouched.

Now in full diagnostic mode, Ratchet kneeled to pick her up gently in his servos, hurrying her over to the medical berth; "Call Nurse Darby," he snapped over his shoulder, "I'll need her assistance."

Miko flicked open her phone, and in moments was informing the ER nurse on the other end of the situation. Meanwhile, Ratchet was running scan after scan, frowning at the readings he was receiving.

Energon radiation? Baffled, he looked down at the girl again, and stared searchingly at the peculiar armour she wore; he found what he was looking for in the form of scorch marks. It wasn't so much the presence of the scorches that was most telling, but rather their randomized pattern; they weren't starburst shape, as from blaster fire, or even the longitudal streaks that would indicate a close call rather than a direct hit. Instead, they were like blotches of carelessly tossed paint.

Bridge burns, Ratchet deduced; they'd been rather common around the base when he had first built the groundbridge, and it had taken a month to work out the glitches (stupid and inferior human technology) to the point that there wouldn't be any unpleasant backlash. Of course, it had never caused any serious harm to the Autobots who went through—the groundbridge had never been unstable enough to cause that powerful a backlash—but it had certainly ruined their paintjobs. But they were made of metal, humans weren't, and a flesh-and-blood creature suffering the backlash of a groundbridge…

He looked once more at her badly burnt hand. He suspected that, had she been in whatever bridge it was for any longer, she wouldn't have made it out at all. The medic was then displeased to learn that, according to his scans, she had first-degree burns beneath her unusual skin coverings as well. Burns bypassing both the armour and body suit meant that whatever groundbridge she had used was unstable enough that the displacement of space took place not only around the groundbridge, but also within it.

That begged the question though; when would this girl have gone through a groundbridge? And what idiot would've sent her through something so clearly unstable?

Miko snapped her phone shut and rushed to the upper level where the TV and couch were located, announcing cheerfully; "Jack's mom's on her way!"

"That is good to know," Optimus' deep voice rumbled, and he turned to the green Wrecker, "Bulkhead, please tell us what has occurred."

"Uh…" the large mech scratched at the back of his head, frowning in confusion, "I don't even really know myself, Boss-bot; me and Miko were on our way here when she just suddenly jumped out in front of us on the highway, and then…" he trailed off, clearly thinking, but then shrugged, "Well, she was looking for you, Optimus."

The Prime's optics widened ever so slightly in surprise.

"Yeah!" Miko jumped in excitedly, drawing their attention, "She was all like—" the girl gripped the railing as though to steady herself, gasping dramatically as she did so, "'Prime…take me…to…Prime…' bleargh…" the fifteen year-old then promptly proceeded to collapse onto the floor, eyes closed and tongue half sticking out.

For a moment, there was a silent pause in which they both just stared, before Bulkhead bluntly stated; "Yeah, that's pretty much what happened."

A thoughtful look came over Optimus' features as he addressed the Wrecker once more, "Do you have any idea as to where she may have come from?"

"Eh, well, not really," Bulkhead confessed while Miko picked herself up from the floor and leaned on the railing, he then scratched at his plating uncomfortably as he spoke; "but with the amount of sand she dragged into my interior, it's like she crawled out of the desert or somethin'!"

"She might have," Miko added thoughtfully, and then her expression lit up; "Hey! Maybe that backpack she had has something it can tell us!"

"Backpack?" Optimus repeated questioningly, seeing no such object in sight.

With an exclamation of "Oh, right!" from Bulkhead, the Wrecker opened his chest compartment and pulled out a large, black backpack that looked to be of some military grade. He set it down at Miko's feet, and the girl promptly began to search through its contents with much more zeal than Optimus felt the situation warranted.

"Uh, she also had these, Boss-Bot;" Bulkhead began, holding his hand out to the Prime, something closed within the large fist, "You might wanna take a look at 'em."

Optimus held out his hand, and two small objects were dropped into it. He stared at them, magnifying his optics to get a closer look, and what he found startled him.

They were weapons, clearly; one appearing to be a human pistol, and the other—most disturbingly—a scaled-down and slightly altered version of a clearly Cybertronian cannon.

The first conclusion to pop into Optimus' mind was that MECH was somehow involved; they had cracked the code of Cybertronian biology, after all, it only made sense that they would find a way to alter Cybertronian weaponry for human use. However, that conclusion then begged the question of when and how a mere human child had come into possession of such weapons, considering that Silas—or rather, CYLAS—was most assuredly dead this time. He supposed it was possible the girl had become involved with them even before the Damocles incident, perhaps even before the revealing of the Prime's own, dark look-a-like. He couldn't quite see the remnants of MECH recruiting teenagers, but he wouldn't put it past them to stoop so low. It would, at least, explain how the girl even knew about the Autobots.

The Prime's musings were interrupted by the flashing green lights and blaring noise of the proximity alert, and he walked up to the main console, pulling up a video feed that revealed Nurse Darby's shiny red car approaching. He opened the silo's entrance for her, and turned to watch as the vehicle came to an almost screeching halt, its driver barely waiting for the car to stop before killing the engine and getting out, not even bothering to close the door behind her as she rushed towards Ratchet's makeshift medical bay on the other side of the room.

"Patient's condition?" the ER nurse demanded even as Ratchet reached down to offer her a hand up, gently depositing the woman on the berth beside the young girl.

"Third-degree burns on the hand, second-degree burns on the face, and first-degree burns scattered across the rest of her body, as well as mild bruises," the medic began rattling off, "Indications of extreme dehydration, and traces of energon radiation that is wreaking much more havoc on her nervous system than it should be, though it does seem to be wearing off on its own."

The medic's report was news to the others in the room, and it was Bulkhead who first managed to ask the question; "What was she doing near energon?"

Ratchet briefly looked at them, optics focusing on the optics of his leader as he spoke; "She's been through an unstable groundbridge, no more than twelve hours ago at the most."

Optimus' frowned; MECH hadn't yet reverse-engineered bridge technology, of that they were certain, so where had this girl come from? She surely couldn't have come from the Decepticon warship, though he was not willing to completely rule out that possibility, however outlandish and unlikely it seemed.

"Nurse Darby, what do you—"

"I need to remove the damaged tissue on her hand," June replied, cutting off the medic, "It doesn't look like she'll need any skin grafting, though there'll be definite nerve-damage; she'll probably lose all sensation on the back of her hand and possibly in one or two fingers."

June let out a tired sigh, looking at the girl before her, thinking that she was too young to be so hurt and remembering the sight of a grey, shallowly breathing Rafael. Then, as all mothers did, she couldn't help but think that, under different circumstances, this could have been her own son lying here. That one day, it might be.


Long after June and Ratchet had taken the girl into surgery—of which Optimus had been assured would be relatively straightforward and quick, barring any complications—in a sterilised back room where Agent Fowler had been storing human medical equipment ever since Rafael's encounter with Dark Energon, Miko continued rifling through the girl's things, becoming frustrated as she found more and more useless and boring things. There was some kind of weird sealant, a strange, cell-phone looking thing that wasn't quite a cell phone—it looked too…off, for that—a medical kit that looked like it had seen better days and was missing most of its supplies, military rations, an empty and beat up water canteen, military rations, ammo cartridges, flashlights and batteries, advanced looking glow-sticks, and…

Miko paused momentarily as she came across a pair of scorched and cracked glasses. She pulled them out with a frown, thinking that the square and mostly red frame looked familiar somehow. Humming in thought, she tapped a finger against her chin, then closed one eye and tilted her head, tongue sticking out in concentration as she tried to place exactly where—

"Hey Miko! What're you doing?"

The Japanese girl gave the small twelve—and a half—year-old an irritated look as he stared back with his curious eyes from behind the lenses of his red and square framed glass—

Hit with a revelation, Miko glanced back at the ruined spectacles dangling from her fingertips.

Oh. Oh.

Now that was kind of weird.

"Miko?" Rafael Esquivel repeated questioningly, mildly disconcerted by the fifteen year-old's thoughtful look and persisting silence.

"Hey Raf!" she greeted cheerfully, as though nothing strange had just happened. "You'll never believe what happened to me and Bulk today!"

Immediately, the girl launched into her tale, being sure to include her dramatic re-enactment of the mystery girl's dead faint.

Bumblebee jumped in with several clicks and beeps when she was finished, childish looking optics wide.

"Seriously?" Raf asked the teen, though Miko wasn't sure whether it was his own question or if he was just translating something the yellow scout towering over them had asked.

"Yep!" She replied enthusiastically, and, now ignoring the existence of the recently returned pair, went right back to digging through the overstuffed bag, wondering if she could find anything else weird like those glasses.

Bumblebee bleeped something, and Raf translated; "So what did you find so far?"

"Eh, nothing interesting;" the girl replied, waving to the discarded pile of stuff. Knowing that Miko's version of "interesting" was vastly different from anyone else's on base, Raf began rummaging through the abandoned contents himself, frowing at the presence of equipment that was so clearly military; didn't Miko say that their strange visitor was probably her or Jack's age?

He was distracted from his careful examination of the "uninteresting" objects by a surprised exclamation of "Hey!" that drew both his and Bumblebee's curious attention back to Miko, who was currently holding up a pink, old, and slightly beat-up cell-phone that looked just like her own.

"It looks like mine!" The girl exclaimed unnecessarily, holding up her own cell phone beside it as though in comparison.

"Does it work?" Raf asked, "It might have some videos or photos and contact information on it that could help us identify her."

In response, Miko flipped it open to reveal a slightly cracked screen, and held the power button for several moments. When it failed to turn on, even after several tries, Miko's shoulders slumped dejectedly.

"I guess it's broken."

"It might just be a dead battery," Raf suggested, and held out his hand, "Here let me see."

With only a smidgeon of reluctance—this was her great discovery after all, well, her and Bulk's—Miko handed it over to the diminutive computer genius, who promptly flipped it over and pried open the back, only to discover the battery compartment was abandoned.

"…Or it might have no battery at all." He concluded, "Maybe we can use Miko's."

"Great idea!" Without any further prompting, the girl popped out her own cell phone battery and eagerly handed it over, watching as Raf placed it into her cell phone's grimy twin with an audible click. Miko and Bumblebee both looked over his shoulder as he powered it on, the yellow Autobot letting out a whir of anticipation as the screen flickered to life with a minute vibration and Raf promptly selected the camera function, proceeding to scroll through the photos. Both humans inhaled sharply at what they saw, and Bumblebee let out a sharp buzz of surprise.

"That…" for once, it seemed as though the Japanese exchange student was at a loss for words, and it was Raf who formed the first coherent sentence.

"We've gotta show Optimus."


Well, there's that one; sorry if anyone seemed out of character; when I started writing this chapter, I had a set idea in mind, but then it just started growing and growing and decided it was taking a slightly different route.

FFV: First of all, sorry that Megatron's brief appearance last chapter was a "meh" moment. I know he's not usually so quiet, and I confess that the main reason I left him so, was because I couldn't think up any Megatron-like dialogue that wouldn't detract from the mood or moment of the story at that particular point in time. In fact, Megatron's probably the hardest character for me to write. Plus, I like to think that he considered their invasion of New Kaon as an annoyance hardly worth his time since, for the Decepticons at least, the war is over and done with, and they are the victors, meaning he would've just killed them and been done with it (It's not like he knew they were going back in time). Secondly; only two bots and one human are going to know Titania's parentage, and a few others are going to suspect bits and pieces, but it'll be a while before any of those pieces start fitting together. When I said Titania was going to reveal herself to one of her parent's this chapter, I may have been unintentionally misleading, considering she already has in the way that I meant it. And, yes, there's going to be some disbelief among those who know of Titania's parentage. As to your questions regarding Miko and Jack falling in love, in my mind, Miko has had a small crush on Jack since the beginning of Season 2 when she started seeing him as less of a boring dork and more of a man to be counted on when push comes to shove, and her volunteering to go to New York in Tunnel Vision was as much an attempt to impress him as it was to prove she could be useful too. As such, these feelings grew throughout the entire season (though admittedly I only conceived this idea after watching "Darkest Hour"). Jack, in my mind didn't begin to return those feelings until after Optimus' death, when Miko revealed a deeper and more mature side of herself that he'd never seen. Things just kind of went from there. I'm not quite sure yet how their relationship's going to develop in an altered timeline.

Now, as for Titania's nickname, she didn't really "get" it in any specific way; Fowler has been calling her that since she was a baby, in a way, it was to honour Bulkhead, who died shortly after Miko had found out she was pregnant and had once moaned to him jokingly about having a "mini-Miko" running around, who, as we all remember from Con Job in Season 1 as well as Hurt in Season 2, can "wreck with the best of them". So, just like June "knowing" that she'd have her father's heart and mother's gut, Fowler kind of just "knew" she was going to be a mini-wrecker. I know Titania doesn't seem to have done much Wrecking at the moment, but there's still plenty of chapters to go. Thank you for the Christmas wishes, and I hope you had a Merry Christmas too!

Whew! That was a long reply. And I apologize now to any reviewers whose reviews I haven't replied to; unfortunately, I was working all Christmas break. See you all next time.