Heartlines
A/N: Once more, thank you so much for all the wonderful feedback. I love it so much to see a review in my Email. Have fun with this super long chapter. 8000+ words.
P.S. - All mistakes are blamed on Megatron.
CHAPTER 4. SECRETS
[a week and a day later: 1500 hours]
N.E.S.T. didn't get one new soldier that day.
They got two.
Though the second one was shorter (much shorter than the average war hero) and couldn't very well speak to give or receive orders, not to mention was more furry than some of the men who refused to shave, but he was a soldier all the same. He was loyal, exceedingly loyal to his main commanding officer, would go or move or sit or lay wherever he was directed without question because it would be the right thing to do. And, well, there was never a frown on his face either. He was rookie, still needed to learn the ropes, sights, scents of the place, but so did Soldier Number 1, so they could help each other out in that unknown department.
However, even if he was a soldier, he was always Man's Best Friend first.
Or, women's best friend, especially when she was as stressed as she was in this moment. His ears perked up, then flickered and pressed against his forehead.
"I need that, right there," Skylar instructed through her teeth, clenching a rubber band between her front incisors. She lamely pointed an elbow to her left as she threw her hair up in a tight bun. Her helper, a Mr. Santossteffano, hurriedly wafted in that direction, the huge, hefty box proceeding to be slapped down in the corner. Max sat quietly against a wall, panting a little at the heat of the N.E.S.T. Base, but attentive for when she needed him, "and that -"
With two free hands, she took the large box of industrial equipment from Sebastian, and sat it down on her main, shiny steel desk. It was already overflowing with papers and journals and knowledge so much that it was hard to find a decent spot without smushing what was underneath.
"- goes over here."
Maxwell the Dog shook out the dust and sweat from his coat when his person huffed out air in one big groan, practically throwing herself down in the leather working chair to take a break from her extensive organizing. He could hear her shoulder blade make that very strange cracking noise he had yet to understand as she rolled it, wincing right along with her. Pawing over, collar jingling, to where she rubbed her temples with her thumbs, he circled her desk once, sniffing for anything suspicious, and, perhaps, from curiosity as well.
"Finished." Skylar rubbed the back of her neck, waving goodbye to Sebastian who answered his walkee-talkee and had to excuse himself to help someone named Prim or Prime or something?
Honestly, she didn't know, and really didn't care. She had yet to memorize any of the other soldier's names, let alone their last or nicknames. Besides, that is, the very few friends she had made so far in the process of the last weeks events of transporting in things she would need for work. Those things in locked boxes were brought into base secretly to most eyes, and followed Classified Protocol as close to the books as possible. No one would know what she would be doing until instructed to tell, and only less than a handful knew the truth, despite the rumors. Those special few being: Joey (who cursed loudly as he kicked a cardboard box and something within jabbed him back), his friend Gabriel, who had helped her as well, but had to leave for a mission debrief, Sebastian, the mechanic, and, of course, Lennox and Epps.
"Christ, that took forever." She mumbled right in between a headache, hearing to her right as Joey made a retort she ignored. Max finally concluded with his adventure around her new working desk. Coming close, he placed his head on her thigh, tail wagging slowly back and forth. He gazed at her leisurely, tongue licking her bare leg. His eyes read: The boy is obnoxious; I love you, my person.
Skylar couldn't help it. Her frown flipped itself to a smile, and her fingers threaded behind his ears, ruffling the hair there until he collapsed onto his belly in content. His chin rested upon her boots, covered in wet dirt, but he didn't care on bit. He looked tired for a dog, eyes drooping.
"I know, Max." She almost whispered, her voice low as she pat his backside as well. "It's different here than home, but you're lucky that you're even allowed on base."
He rolled onto his back, paws up, waiting for a belly rub he knew she would give, as a way of saying he'd forgive her, per say. At his movements, the weaponry technician snickered a little and slid from the chair like putty, onto the cold, concrete floor. Her bare legs criss-crossed, boots tucked under her knees. Her shorts were a pair of light blue ripped jeans she had been forced to cut up when the Nevada Base's heat was just about throwing her into a heat stroke. Though she kept her face and actions controlled and straight most of the time, there was nothing that made her smile more than her dog.
"That's a good boy."
"You talk to your dog?" A sarcastic voice carried over her desk. Her smile turned into a pair of sourly pursed lips. Skylar flicked her shaded green eyes over her shoulder, distasteful. Joey with his dark black hair and pretty blue eyes was leaning against her desk, working glove-covered hands pressed against the top as he gazed down at them. One of his bushy eyebrows was cocked skywards, and it made her look at the ceiling in amusement.
"You talk?" She responded in the same witty tone, scratching her dog's ears for another time with her nails. He watched Joey like he was still very unsure if friend of foe.
"Ha," Muttered the man, irritated that she'd responded so smoothly, crossing his arms over his chest with a look. There was one thing he had learned about the very strange new sniper, and it was that she was a basket full of sarcastic comments if you hit her in just the right way to release them. It was a challenge he accepted when they clicked as friends on that first day. He came around the side of the desk to where the pistol and her dog were, and proceeded to sit in the chair behind Specialist Rosette in which she had left wide open just for him, so it seemed, "Ha, ha, Rosette, you're hilarious."
She resisted the urge to roll her eyes, and instead, felt her watch upon her arm vibrate. Looking at it, she noted it was 1500 hours, or, 3:00. In 10 minutes, she had a meeting with Lennox about some of her work. So, giving her puppy a final pat, she stood easily and cracked her knuckles against her back as she stretched.
"Shut it, Santa, and fetch me my backpack, will you?" She waved him out of her spot at his protesting, taking it back over and sliding up on the desk to begin unloading the box smack dab in the center. She made a comment about her seat being awkwardly warm, which he ignored. Looking for the black backpack that was a big center of her rumors, he thought on how he clearly wasn't at liberty to share anything she told him, due to many problems he would face, and out of respect for her job, but that didn't mean he wasn't listening to those who spoke quietly about the new soldier with an unknown past, and an unknown future as well.
"What's in it?" He finally locked his fingers on it's strap from where it had been dropped in an empty box, dragging the entire thing over to where she was stationed. He found her carefully placing journals in piles, files in others, and every once and a while letting her eyes flicker to a small picture frame next to a tiny white lamp.
Inside the glass was an angled and worn down Polaroid of what he guessed was Skylar's mother and father in front of a large house, with a younger version of the female on his side herself, standing with a huge smile in between the two adults. Next to her, despite Skylar's black hair that matched her father's, was a blonde female he could only guess was her sister. And, finally, in their arms was an even tinier version of Max.
From the corner of her eye, she noticed him watching what she was doing, as well as her picture, and was quick to respond:
"What's inside, you wonder? The blood of my enemies."
"Sounds pretty true." Looking away from her personal items, he burst into loud laughter at her straight expression and tone. It was a kind of chuckle that made even her break her attitude and leak into a beam herself. Taking the backpack and setting it next to her without another ask of what was inside, Joey rest himself against her desk, watching as stood and started tucking things away in the key-locked drawers. "So," He drawled out, hands digging into his pockets, "is it true?"
She slowed her roll, hands coming to a pause on the journal labeled mechanics and hybrid theories in black Sharpie, eyebrows popping up on her forehead. She was a bit taken aback by such a vague question, and was unsure how to follow up at first.
"That's a very wide scope of honesty you're looking for, Joey." Continued Rosette hesitantly, generating enough sense to continue her placing of books and paperwork into their new homes. "You'll have to speak up what you're thinking." She finished, crushing the box into a flat platform when it was empty, and tossing it upon the others that had suffered the same fate upon finding themselves clear of things she needed. She took her seat once more as he played with an un-sharpened pencil, corners of his lips perking up. Skylar grabbed her water bottle, sunk in on one side, half full, and took a gulp.
"You shot at Lennox and forced him to let you join the team."
The water left her body as she coughed out, eyes turning wide at the accusation - no, the rumor.
If anything, Lennox had threatened to shoot her!
Skylar did an actual spit take, having to shut her mouth in her black jacket sleeve to stop the obnoxious choking noise she was making. Mr. Santossteffano made a move to pat her back, feeling a little guilty, but she held out a warning hand for him to not come any closer. When she was done, her breath hard to catch, she thought about grabbing her inhaler, but another part of her shoved that thought straight from her brain. Not here, not in front of Joey - a friend she still barely knew. It would actually hurt her a little if she would have to show him that side of her.
"What?" Her throat was a quirky little rasp, and her fingers came to press against her collarbone incredulously. It really was like High School here; she wondered what other absolutely false stories were going around about her. "Where on Earth did you hear this?"
"Passing rumor." He quickly spoke, diverting his gaze away from her red eyes and her loud wheezing, waving a hand to release the conversation. She was a tad bit glad for that, and now hurriedly reached for her bag, and, more importantly, her inhaler. She didn't want to show him this weakness, but she had no choice, or she knew she'd go into a state of gasping no one should see. He pretended just for her confidence and ego to momentarily find interest in that pencil again, chipping the end, and she was more than grateful as she returned to normal. All the dry air was making it so hard to keep her breaths normal, and though her ego was now punctured, she would have to ignore it.
There was a long moment of silence where she dropped all conversation, and began drawing out equations on a notebook page half full of them. He teetered on asking her what he really wanted to know, or not while she truly calmed down. In the end, he couldn't keep as controlled as she could, and broke, putting the pencil back down where he found it.
"So what did you do?"
Surprisingly, maybe because she was just too tired to argue or dismiss him, or maybe, just maybe, she actually trusted him enough to not go and blab away what had transpired between her and Lennox, she jumped into a condensed version of the non-interview interview between her and her Captain (who, she was late in meeting) from start to finish. From sedation upon arrival to a handshake to secure her departure from everything she'd once known. She explained what she had been before in Captain Boot's Sniper Brats, and what she would be doing now with N.E.S.T.
By the time she had completed her story, she had nothing left in her hands but a rubik cube she completed in less than 30 seconds. She had cleaned up while talking, hiding away her classified data.
He pinched the bridge of his nose.
"You're serious?" She didn't respond, not entirely sure how, so he took it as a big fat yes. "Damn you, I want to be that awesome - I mean, where did you learn that, taking apart a weapon and actually fitting it into another?"
"Were you not listening, or...?" Though she sounded peeved, a part of her was completely okay with the fact that he found what she could do interesting, and not something to be afraid of. He would never wound her pride like that by voicing it, but he could see that fact pooling in her pupils and slightly red ears.
(Skylar herself found Joey to be an easy person to talk to, and could tell they would be good friends off and on the battlefield. He was the type of person that you could immediately know they'd have your back if the room suddenly caught on fire.
And that, was something she found honorable beyond belief.)
"I never learned it. I've just always known." She continued, sounding almost bored, tossing her feet upon the table when Max moved to go inspect something at the door.
However, though she might have sounded bored instead of upset by this point, Skylar allowed one more stolen glance at the picture by the light, picking her nails as she gazed upon the smiling faces of her family a little more than 4 years ago. It had been just when her and her sister, Anastasia, had left for college, placing behind them their parents and young, junior days, and continuing on to fulfill their lives, dreams and ambitions.
Skylar, finishing with her Bachelors in Technological Science, then abandoning college to join the army, had done exactly what she'd wanted with herself, and was proud of where she was now. Anastasia, with her teaching degree for English, and an extremely steady and happy relationship with her girlfriend, now lived in New York City, teaching High School students about Shakespeare and Homer. They had an older brother, Jonathan, who was a Radio Broadcaster for a Sports Team in Florida as well.
It would seem like family had parted ways for a long time, but it all changed 2 years ago when Skylar's father, a police officer in her home town, was trying to stop a man from robbing a supermarket, and unfortunately was shot in the line of duty.
There had been a funeral in the middle of a summer shower back in Delaware, where they were all from. Skylar on her own, Anastasia and her lovely other (Marina), Jonathan, his wife and son, all showed up, along side their mother, who was now a widow. After the ceremony where goodbyes were said and done, Skylar was approached by her teary-eyed mother, asking if she could take over for the care of Maxwell. He was a police dog, part of the K-9 unit with her father, and Skylar had been the only one of the Rosette's to learn all the sayings and commands the lonely dog knew.
Skylar hadn't thought twice about it. Maxwell and her moved in together in an apartment in New York, near where Anastasia lived, and since then, had moved and changed more times than she could count, due to her work.
A part of Skylar wondered how long she would be stationed with N.E.S.T. before the next move, or if she would finally have a final unit before taking a full leave.
"Maybe," She spoke again, her words gentle and slow as she recovered, "because my father was a police officer I picked things up, but other than that -" Rosette shrugged her bony shoulders, peering over at the door where Max began scratching at it. There was noise on the other end, so she gathered either he wanted to know just what was happening on the opposing, or, he just had to tinkle. Either way, the puppy had once more made her smile. "That, is where I got Max. He used to be his dog."
Joey didn't need to know her past to understand the past-tense she'd used, and understood that for some reason, her father was no longer able to take care of the dog who whimpered, and sat by the exit. He opened his mouth, to say what, they'd never know, for down in his many pockets of the belted camo pants, his phone buzzed. It's echoing noise like a tractor and the little light began flashing. He pulled it out of the patch upon his knee, read the ID, and stood.
"Well, I think Newman needs me." Snickered the soldier, reading the text with bright eyes. Thoughts no longer on Skylar, but of his other friend, this was when he would take his stuff and make his leave. With a wink at her bemused expression, Joey turned over his shoulder with a squeak of his boots, shuffling towards the door, where Max sat up on his back legs, tail ticking back and forth.
On his way, he grabbed his jacket and waved his fingers backwards to her.
"I won't be back!" He teased, and she finally allowed herself to roll her pretty eyes at his back.
"I won't be waiting!" She replied in the same tone, and when the door shut with a clink, she laughed just on her own. Relaxing into the silence and into her seat, it was quiet, comfortable, and, as the seconds ticked by, she didn't like it at all. Her smile had once more melted down into a belittled frown.
Being in motion was what she was used to, despite how she complained about her life never slowing down. That being said, she grabbed her nice set of keys to go with her locked up desk from her pocket, yanked open the first drawer on the right after freeing it from captivity and darkness, and locked her fingers onto her documents on a new generic kind of sniper rifle. It hadn't even been her work; this was just going to be some light reading.
She would have pulled it out, too, if Max hadn't begun growling, low, deep down in his throat by her side, and a heavy pair of boots made two steps towards her from a more than 75 feet away.
Pupils dilating, just like she had done when she had analyzed the busted gun, somewhere deep inside of Skylar, she sized up the noises and silhouette in the shadows of the other side of the large laboratory without even having to turn over her shoulder. The shoes were familiar: a size 13 in men. This male, alas, had enough bounce on his feet that he had to be lean, but still muscled. Only 5 people had access to this room, and only two of them matched that description. Them, being Lennox, and Gabriel, and it couldn't be Gabriel, due to the fact that Joey had stuttered off to find him.
In a matter of 2 seconds, not enough time for him to move a foot closer, she'd figured out who he was, just by the simple, ballpoint sound of his feet on the floor.
William truly didn't know the half of what happen in Specialist Skylar's mind.
"Take another step," She warned in a deep, cautious voice, not realizing that it had even been an almost instant evaluation of her surroundings. To her, it was just a quick couple thoughts of the mind, before she began plotting. The thing was: despite her devious little flick of voice, she was really, honestly, completely joking. What she was about to say, she'd never ever say to her commander and be serious. But, he didn't know that, and man, was she going to scare the real crap out of him, "and I promise, I'll kill you on spot."
"Skylar?" He had his hands up immediately, stepping from the shadows almost as fast. Especially when he realized she held a loaded gun in her left hand, clicked, locked and loaded. It was pointed straight at him, too, with his big, weary eyes, and for a good moment, she looked as if she'd pull it. Her pointed chin was angled dangerously - Skylar honestly looked menacing, and she was a very hot tempered, trigger-happy woman to say the least. He wasn't looking to get shot today; Sarah would kill him if he came home with a bullet hole where his foot should be. Or worse.
And then, just when she began to get light headed from holding her breath, she puffed out air from her mouth and laughed, having to grab the table for support. His face went from somewhat frightened for his well being, to blank, to pissed quicker than it took her to put the handheld down on the edge of the counter top, sift back into the chair and once more prop her feet upon the steel desk. Though he was thoroughly annoyed she had the audacity to point a loaded weapon at him, her Captain, it was a break in her character he didn't think she had.
Was she actually...smiling?
"I was joking." She hiccuped through her chortling, pulling her hood's hoodie right over her mass of dark curls. Only her beam was visible, not even her nose, and he had to do a double take to make sure he wasn't just seeing it wrong in the light. She was really, actually grinning, however. It was bright as day. "Relax."
Lennox finally crossed the empty, sub-hanger to lean against her desk with his pelvic muscles, arms over his chest like he always did when it was time to get more serious about the topic at hand. She didn't see it though, and instead was still in her pathetically wonderful little land of happiness and pride. It was an internal peace she felt in this room; it was everything she loved, and she was allowed to do whatever and tinker with it for as long as she pleased. She had some friends, her dog, and a great Captain. What could be better?
"I wouldn't tease like that." He reminded her with an eyebrow raise and an incline of his head towards the pistol resting in cold at the end of the table. "I was about to run for my money."
Lifting the hood a little, there was almost a childish glitter in her eyes he'd seen before in Annabelle before the little girl did something silly and adorable. Compared to his daughter, Skylar was no where near as innocent, but with this wall down like it was, Lennox could completely see that underneath that mask he and Ratchet had spoken of, there was a free spirited woman who was just a good and kind person. One may never see it again, but now, she was letting it go. Currently, this young woman also tried to keep her lips in a straight line, but they wavered more than once as she retorted with:
"Good, you need to run."
Putting a hand against his chest, he pretended to be wounded anyways.
"Are you calling me fat?" Questioned William in a droopy voice, lips turning down as she sat back up and threw her hood down. More jubilant snorting followed, and she wagged her eyebrows, closing her journals she'd had opened on the desk from before hand. They had a meeting to attend, didn't they?
"I'm not calling you skinny." Specialist Rosette sing-songed, whistling for Max to follow her to his crate. It was large, a couple bars he could escape through easily if there was ever an emergency. However when he was directed to the box, he would have to stay in there until she gave the okay. It was a trick her father had taught him about staying in the car when he went to investigate, and she'd witnessed first hand what it was like to see Max wiggle through the holes when yelled for. The little soldier knew how to follow orders almost as much as the taller one did. Their only difference, was that Max couldn't talk back.
Lennox, with a more than observing gaze, watched as Ms. Rosette locked up her dog and hurriedly tucked away her key ring that jangled like a song. She appeared completely at ease, unlike the beginning of the week, where he had to almost literally move her muscles with his own bare hands to make her chill out just a little about the new surroundings. Granted, she hadn't really been out of the sleeping bunker, food court, and her lab, for many reasons, but either way, it was an improvement.
"Settling in fine, then?" He inquired aloud. Quickly, knowing that he was always pressed for time, and she shouldn't have kept him waiting, Skylar took a seat on the edge of her chair, leaning over to tie up her boots. As she tightened the calf-high, army laces, her head nodded.
"Mhm."
"You look at those documents I sent you?" He followed up with another question, his words more well picked than before, taking a moment to grab one of the journals upon her desk she had previously closed tight upon his entering. She wasn't watching him directly, but could see it from her peripheral. Her right eye twitched, but she would not deny her officer the right to look at her work either.
"Mhm."
"And?" He pushed her just a little. It hadn't just been any measly file he'd had delivered to her, but a full on out-stapled theorem based analysis of a heat ray cannon that had enough power to cut through even the toughest of metals this world and the next had to offer. What they would need it for, she had no idea, however Lennox did.
Though she had joined N.E.S.T., Specialist Rosette's assignments had been less than explanatory. Read this paper and give her thoughts, tinker with this until it works again. But nothing that would show what she would really be working on for the basis of her time here, like the heat ray manuscript that had graced her mind.
She didn't fret, despite her lack of knowledge. Though it irked her to be kept out of the loop, a very smart section of her brain reminded her that everything would happen in due time. Jumping right onto a project on her first day would have been a stupid idea, for both her and William, to make. She still didn't know what she would be dealing with, and in reality, neither did Lennox. It would be better to find things within and externally naturally, rather than have it thrust upon her on her first day like it was.
Skylar grabbed open a drawer on her left and grabbed the red folder with the words sprayed in all caps: CLASSIFIED across the cover. He recognized it immediately and grit his teeth to suppress a flinch when she smacked it down.
"I finished." She responded in the same tone she had a moment before with her mutters. She braided her hair down her shoulder as he took it and gazed through it, not really hearing her until her words sunk in. She'd finished? Well that was good -
Wait, she had finished? A 15 page report not even meant for finish-ing? He had only wanted her to look over it and see what she could find, but to, what, fix errors he didn't even, that the Autobots, that is, probably didn't even realize were there? How on Earth had she managed that? Something in his deer-in-the-headlights, wonderstruck expression must have triggered those thoughts in her mind, for she gently placed the folder back on the table from where he had frozen with his eyebrows high, and gave out a cross look at his astonishment.
"Yeah, I, uh, well, finished the night after you handed them over." She slid open the papers, sliding each edited document out for him to take a look at her corrections, in a fan layout as if he was looking at a hand of cards. He braced himself on the edge of the desk, leaning over to scan over where she had marked were all over the place in dark red Sharpie. Her work ranged from words too long to fit on the page that he had never seen before in his life, x's and y's, to 0's and 10 thousands. When his brain felt like it was about to swell, he put his hands up and took a step back, giving in to defeat.
Skylar held in a giggle as she grabbed a tiny little laser pointer from her tool box of things and began directing him in the simplest of ways.
"Your issue was that you had a couple math errors. It was nothing to major, sir." Explained the Specialist, moving to page 6. "Whoever created these documents had the scaling all wrong again, some theorems as well, but nothing extreme that could have blasted a hole in the side of the Earth. I've gotten all the math correct to make that much pressure in a calibrated heat machine, but you had it set as if to equal a 30 foot person, and not someone who averages in at 5'6." She chuckled a little to herself, about to point at another page and continue on with her little debrief just for him, but, to her surprise, Lennox cut her off there with a hand on her shoulder.
So, she hadn't caught on, then, had she? The look in her perplexed eyes confirmed as much. There had been a paranoid part of Will who had started to fear she was coming to realized that there was something abnormally strange with the fact that he'd been giving her page of page of work with 30 foot scales instead of average human. She looked the errors over like a bug on water as simply that, errors, and not something to think and look into. She believed it could be explained by math and science, what they were doing here, and not something exotic and galactic.
And, in that moment, was when William Lennox realized it was time to tell Skylar the whole truth about N.E.S.T. that had been kept disclosed to everyone, even her friends, and not her.
It was time to tell her about the Autobots.
"Skylar," He started delicately, removing his fingers from her shoulders to motion them to her work. He chose his words with precision, wisely, and between a pair of worn down, chapped, pursed lips, "is there any way you could redo it to fit the original scale it was set to?"
Skylar was ultimately silent as she did as told, reaching for her work with a black pen instead. She was just as hesitant as Lennox had been, extremely conflicted on why she had to change it. But, again, she would not argue, for it was right and just. She studied it for half a second, all her math and fine red handwriting, before making large X's in some places over others, multiplying with a heavy duty SI calculator sitting near the lamp and the photo of her family, and finally finished up by capping the Sharpie and turning it all back to him.
She could have said anything, anything at all that would have been normal, but the sassy comment that followed shocked him like an electric prick, and almost her as well.
"Wanna tell me the reason I feel like I'm going to be making 30 foot heat rays?"
He held up a finger to reply when he recovered from being momentarily taken aback, turning on the heel of his boots, simultaneously grabbing a walkee-talkee from his back pocket. He'd reached 100 feet away in just a couple long strides away from her desk, her work, her.
"Give me a minute." Were his only words, before he opened the door he'd come through to begin with, walked through it, and let it fall to an ajar position in his wake. She could hear the hum of his tone on the other end, but he was too distant for her to pick anything up. Lonely in the awkward silence of her workroom once again, she grabbed a sticky note, and reminded herself to order some sort of music player for this place so she wasn't always left in the quiet when it was just her and Max, like it was now. Now, she was just Skylar, who gazed at the pup with sad eyes, in which he returned almost equally, squeaking a little chew toy she had in his crate for company.
"Max, I don't know, I think he's gone nuts." Skylar teased the thought of her Captain, crouching in front of the bars. But, could one blame her? She had expected an impressed reaction, but the one she got wasn't one she was ready to take in entirely.
Why had he wanted her to redo her algebra? Was she really going to be making something that...extensive? Could she make something that complex? So large? Where would she even begin to get the power for that? The protective gear?
The German Shepherd sat upright, ears once again tucked back against his forehead. Placing his nose against the cool gate between them, he could sense her anxiety, even if he could figure out why she was this way. The young woman stroked the hair above his nose, to between his eyes. It was calm for not just him, but both of them, as the repetitive motion put her nerves at ease.
"But," She continued, giving his forehead a final scratching, before standing tall on her legs and brushing her hands off on her shorts, "I like this job, and it pays well, so I won't quit on him."
"Have we paid you already?" The voice in the doorway carried her way, making her turn in a circle to gaze in embarrassment. Lennox was watching her, leaning against the frame with his arms crossed over his chest.
She mirrored him almost perfectly in stance.
"Not yet, but it better be soon and it better pay well or I might reconsider." She stretched her arms out, looking down at what she was wearing - her hand-crafted shorts, a pair of tan army boots, a black zip up jacket, and underneath a white sports bra. She tsked a little, feeling the urge of sarcastic wit for not the first, and not the last time that day. "I've worn the same pair of clothes for the last week. Don't worry - I've showered and cleanded them, so you can loose that look."
He didn't react, except motion for her to come to his side. When she did, shutting out the blinding white lights above, he ruffled her hair with his hand, expression a deadpan.
"Come with me, and when I'm done explaining, if you still want the job, I'll hand you your check and let you have at it."
She didn't argue.
She just followed him, and followed orders, like she always did, and probably always would.
When she entered the automobile hanger, little did tiny Miss Skylar Rosette know that when she would learn about her real job description with N.E.S.T. for the very first time, it would be 100% nothing like what she was originally expecting.
For the last 6 days, she'd had a couple theories.
When she was handed her first notebook full of studies on day 2, it had been about designing a simple outer skeleton suit that could reflect a pressure blast of 200 ATM's. She'd felt a little bit like Tony Stark at that moment, creating the Mark 1, but when she realized that the science would be completely impossible for the next 10 years, to create something that small for a human, she'd told them she was unable. Lennox had told her she'd passed whatever test that was, and would be back the next day with more for her to look over - which, he stayed true to his word. So many different ideas poured on in to her study spaces that she had no idea what she was looking for anymore, other than corrections and if it was logical or not.
Trying to figure out what she would be doing with this career was like trying to fit puzzle pieces together of entirely different games: she'd read up on new war processors to tackle tanks with armor made of a metal they couldn't identify (classified), the creation of outrageous biochemicals that could penetrate that same metal (classified), and the affect of radio waves interfering with air jet signatures (classified). She couldn't decide if she was going to help create a new line of armor shredding gun power, chemically active corrosive, or air frequency destroyers. If it was one of the three, or none of the three, she didn't know either. Whatever they wanted her to do, she would do it if she could, but what it was started her first set of problems.
Standing in front of the expensive cars, trucks and motorbikes, she was nothing like what she was thinking. What did she have to do with them? What did they have to do with her?
Lennox was quick to answer, a friendly face popping up next to him as well. Sebastian's white hair was slicked back with sweat and oil that offset the balance of pale skin, but his smile made everything better. His angled eyes were giving her a mental thumbs up.
"Weapons Specialist Skylar Rosette," Her eyebrows lifted behind her bangs, "may I introduce you, your partners: the Autobots."
Logically, everything she was about to witness was a farce. There were no such things as aliens - NASA could search the universe all they wanted, the cosmonauts could tag along as well, but for now, it seemed they were completely alone. Logically, a GMC Topkick shouldn't shake out like an exhausted dog like her own Max back in her lab, metal grinding as it, or he, stood on two metal legs, shifting and shaping until he was a great warrior in front of her. The rest of the lot shouldn't have done that either, and logically, she would have to believe she was hallucinating, this was a prank, or she had completely lost her marbles.
But, reality cut in through the logic, and staring her straight in the face were the just as curious faces of the 9 Autobots, as Lennox had called them. Their glowing optics taking in all physical information on her they could get, she couldn't know they were doing it, but she could damn well feel it. They documented her black hair, and how it was up in one of those very human knot things called ponytails, to the terrified shake of her lip, despite her calm composure. Her green eyes were guarded, unable to read, but her fists were, that had balled into white knuckled clutches. Her entire structure itself was skinny compared to most bodacious humans, however she had some muscle on her arms, calves and thighs from training and gun handling. They watched her suck in little gasps of air, not realizing she was loosing the ability to breathe.
Logically, they weren't real. In reality, they stared her in the face.
"She looks as though she's seen a ghost." Sideswipe mused. Lennox turned his face from watching the Cybertronians transform, to his newest ward. She was sickly pale, a small array of freckles dotting her cheeks he'd never seen before. Slowly, her attentiveness moved from Sideswipe, to one of the little Chevvy Boxes that spoke with a quite difficult to process vocal choice.
"N'aw, lil' honey's just frightened." The Bot had crossed his arms over his chestplates, metal clinking with metal. His twin standing next to him, a Sir Skids to his Mudflap, made a choked laughing noise, nudging his brother like they shared a joke, despite what he said next being an insult:
"Of yo' face, ugly."
Mudflap took offense to that instantly, like always, shoving his twin in the arm, rocking him into the tall, still standing yellow Autobot who whirled in distaste for their antics. The tallest of the three's face mask came down with a flick of his head, shifting into place before things got ugly for real.
"You're my twin, stupid!" Mudflap reminded the green Bot, shoving him back so that they rocked into the menacing Ironhide. There might have been a wrestling battle in the foreseen and on the way, but to save Ms. Rosette from seeing something that violent upon just meeting them was instantly forbidden over comm. link by their leader, who stood the tallest, eyes displeased. Bumblebee, the yellow Autobot in the center of it all, with his yellow mask locked just in case, grabbed the back of Skid's and Mudlfap's metal skulls. Much to their protest, he knocked their heads together, not unlike what he'd done in Egypt, and turned them forward again to face their guest.
"Thank you, Bumblebee." Lennox ran a hand through his hair, before taking a stand in front of the sniper who had been so entranced and flabbergasted in what she was watching, that she'd forgot that moving her muscles was probably a good thing to do. Not to mention breathing. She hadn't been doing that either. His generally concerned expression zipped her back to reality, and her shoulder blade cracked as she forced herself to release her bunched up nerves. He winced at the noise they could all hear.
(Secretly, just for himself to gain, Ratchet scanned the bone structure underneath her back tissue, trying to find the center of the ghastly noise they'd all just heard.)
William cleared his throat.
"So?" He prompted her to speak. To do something. She'd been acting like a statue, or as if she was a porcelain doll; completely still, eyes wide and face flushed with an emotion he couldn't place. Her vibe and position of being extremely fragile.
Skylar didn't something none of them were expecting, that was for sure.
She started to laugh.
"Oh my, ha, this is great, wow." She clutched her sides, arms wrapping around herself defensively as her snickers turned sour. Only Sebastian was able to truly see how she backed up her right foot, shuffling away from the entire scene in front of her. It made him frown; he would have rather her take this in with more spirit and perhaps more optimism than how she responded afterwards: "I can't believe this. I'm making weapons for giant robots."
Lennox made a movement to perhaps pat her shoulder or head, but she pointed a finger at him like a weapon. Her amused outlook was dust in the wind, and instead, her green eyes flashed as she advanced her Captain. She would never hurt him, or even touch him, but she could very much bitch in his face like a true Rosette would when given the information she had on her now. He put his hands behind his back, standing still as she took out her frustration through words.
"And - and you, god damn it Lennox, you didn't think you wanted to clue me in on this one minor detail when I was signing up?" She cried out in disbelief, throwing her hands over at the Autobots who were pretty quiet while watching her reaction. "What," Continued the soldier, hands clenching into fists once more, but with a very different emotion attached to them, "were you thinking?"
"Awh, man, she's pissed." Murmured Skids to Mudflap.
"Very pissed." Mudflap agreed.
"Zip it, Twins, or Primus help me -" Arcee began from her spot beside Ratchet, but he spoke over all of them, his attention on the woman who was still going off on Will.
"Autonomous robotic organisms from the Planet Cybertron, but you would be half correct."
That shut her up long enough to send her into more frightened chuckles. She put her hands up by her head, the signal for giving up this little tirade of hers.
"- what, I'm going nuts." She put her hands on the back of her hoodie covered head, turning away to face the wall behind them all. A nice, blank wall, with no towering giant alien robots who wanted her make weapons -
She heard the green Chevvy Box make another joke behind her, about her human behind, and she really tried to ignore this fact. But it sunk into her brain like the Titanic did in the ocean. He was talking. The car was talking. They were talking. They were tall and metal and alive and talking. About her butt, none the less! Her shallow breathing increased deeply through her nose to remind her that this was real life, she had asthma, and she had to keep her lungs in check. Reality. Not logic.
Her brain hurt.
"I-I'm insane." She finally concluded, turning to Lennox again. "Or this an illusion. I'm dying. I'm dead?" He shook his head. "Not dead, then which is it?"
"None. This is real life." Sebastian replied with a flickering smile, putting his hands on her shoulders from behind and giving a little squeeze. As he turned her to face the Autobots again, Lennox gave the mechanic a look to slow it down and let it process all on her own. Sebastian had originally had his own plan to aid his friend in coming to grips with the Autobots, but backed down and released her under order. "She's taking this better than some people. Remember Staff Sargent Waters?" He piped up, and Mudflap laughed out once.
"That pussy peed 'emself."
His twin fist bumped him.
"Not really. He just fainted." A Mech named Jolt spoke calmly, allowing himself to speak for the first time to the female. It didn't go too well, for she dropped onto her haunches, head between her knees. The Blue Bot winced at her reaction.
"Ooo, I'm about to." She admitted, and Lennox shuffled over to pat her back with support. However, she didn't leave the conversation there. No, she would get as much information out of this as she could before she allowed herself to actually freak out to the extremity of where her internal levels indicated (Ratchet was still keeping close watch on her, just in case). "Different planet." She repeated the Medical Officer's definition of who they were. "Did you say Planet?"
Arcee nodded her head once.
"You're aliens? Ah - okay." She finally stood back up, taking a couple steps away from both Sebastian and Lennox, who moved to help her. She threw her hands out, a signal for them to stay where they were, especially as she scuffed towards the exit a couple steps.
"Perhaps you should sit. Do you need your inhaler?" Will suggested lightly.
"Just," She swallowed, giving herself the opportunity to gaze at the Autobots from the corner of her eye, "just give me a couple minutes, okay?"
And then like that she was gone, only the sound of her boots squeaking on the ground any sign that she didn't dissolve into thin air.
"Well, that went well." Ironhide laughed darkly under his breath, while Lennox made the mandatory call to keep the place under lock down until he was positive Skylar wouldn't leave base until allowed. There had been too many mishaps where someone had learned the truth and tried to flee, so until he was positive she wouldn't make a break for it, he had to keep the place secure of breach.
There was a moment of silence.
Then -
"What in the name of God! - is this inhaler?" Bumblebee's external radio questioned curiously, innocently, almost like a wondering child.
Sebastian closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose.