Dear Karma

A Transformers Story

Co-written by Mein Benutzername and A Humble Reader

Beta and Advisor: icanhascamaro

Note: Hello again. After an unfortunately long period of an startling inability to write anything together that even resembles something acceptable to the plot, we have managed to scrape together the next chapter for our lovely readers.

Also, a warm thank you (and hello) to icanhascamaro, who did an absolutely magnificent job of beta-reading and editing for us. It is most appreciated! And though I haven't spoken to her myself as of yet, she seems positively delightful

Please enjoy the story, and leave a review if you deem us worthy.

Words: 5410

Pages: 17

Chapter 3

Moving Forward

In which the show must go on, despite revelations, and one can only hope that ominous sense of foreboding is just the drugs.

Knock knock knock.

Under a cocoon of various blankets and quilts in the middle of the Johnson living room, something shifted imperceptibly.

Knock knock knock.

This very same something shifted again, and released a small groan. It stilled, and the silence from before the annoying, repetitive noise began returned.

...Knock knock knock!

There was another groan, and slowly, layers of comfort were peeled away from one end of the lump, and the top of a messy head appeared. Sleepy, green eyes opened to slits glaring daggers at the tent above them.

...Knock knock, Knock-knock knock, knock knock-

"Oh my God! I can't take this anymore! Sam if you don't open up your door right now, and I mean RIGHT NOW, I'm using Pens as a battering ram and coming in there to get you!"

There it was. Was it sad that she was expecting this? Soon to follow would be the headache, and then thoughts of manslaughter. Damn. She wanted to sleep.

"Excuse you? I didn't exactly agree to these terms. How about I just shove you into the door instead, little miss impatient?"

"I'm the impatient one? Who was just knocking out a beat on the door every couple of minutes?"

"I was being polite."

"You're just as impatient as I am, you overstuffed bag of pretentious-"

"My my, when did we learn such big words?"

"Why you little-!" Sam couldn't take it anymore. She released a huge groan but the argument ensuing just outside her front door continued regardless. Well, she'd have to put an end to that.

"Just shut up!" She croaked angrily. That was supposed to be a violent shout, damn it. "Can't a person sleep in!? You guys are so annoying! And loud!" With a flourish that might have been something more of an awkward flailing, accompanied by another rather frustrated grunt, Sam disentangled herself from the covers and made to stand. She winced at the sudden pain that lanced through her foot and her stomach, but still managed to hobble her way onto unsteady legs.

Unfortunately, the memory of what had happened was still fresh in her mind, and she wasn't even allowed the simple luxury of being able to pretend, maybe for a moment, that she didn't almost die and then find about what might have been the hugest conspiracy theory ever.

She wondered where she had put the small bottle of pills the military doctor person had given her. Were they still in her pocket? And would they make her loopy? That'd be nice. Better than sorting out this jumbled mess of questions with no answers in sight.

Sam was grumbling to herself incoherently and wondering about those pills some more when she opened the door, one hand rubbing at her eyes to try and remove the after-goop of a sleep that, in her opinion, wasn't long enough.

Two brunettes stood over her, one looming dangerously with a kind of worried and angry fire in her eyes, and the other looking maybe a little annoyed, but it was clearly smothered by her concern.

Concern that became violently evident when she immediately gasped and attached herself to an unsuspecting Sam. The fire in her companion's eyes dimmed a little and she let her glare slip, stepping in behind the first and closing the door behind her.

Suddenly Sam was wide awake.

"Sam!" Anna practically cried. "Oh my god! I heard about the wreck! Are you alright? Oh my god! You could have died Sam! You're never allowed to drive again okay? Never! I-I can take you anywhere you need to go, but you aren't allowed to- why didn't you call us!? I was so worried! And when we got here, and you weren't here- I didn't know! But now I do! And- and-"

"ANNA!" Sam roared, somehow managing to pry her friend off of her. There was a strain in her voice. Oh, the sudden agony in her skull. "Slow down! Stop!" Sam held the frantic girl at arm's length with her hands on her shoulders, with a slight wince at the pounding in her skull. Sam hated headaches. She took a deep breath and gave both of her friends a steady, withering look.

"Listen to me. Look at me, I'm fine-"

"But that's just it." The second girl said, cutting her off. "You aren't fine, Sam. You cannot seriously stand here and tell us that you are all 'fine and dandy' after you got out of a car wreck. No way we're buying that complete and utter bullshit, and especially not from you."

Anna nodded in agreement, hands coming up to grasp the ones that were resting on her own shoulders.

"Now then." Anna said, suddenly all business. Sam sighed. She had been dreading this moment. "You are going to sit down, take whatever medicine they better have god damn given you for the pain, and Pens and I will make you some lunch."

Sam opened her mouth to protest.

"And then," Penelope continued, causing Sam to snap her mouth shut. "We're going to sit down, and call your mother, and we are all gonna talk about what the hell happened, exactly."

The injured teen groaned and allowed her head to loll backwards in defeat. "Please, no, I thought you were here to worry, not torture me-" Sam's whining was abruptly cut short when she was unbalanced by arms wrapping around her neck and shoulders.

"Idiot." Penelope snapped harshly. "We are worrying, you little piece of shit." Now it was her turn to hold Sam at arm's length while she glared. "Sit your lousy car-wrecking butt down in the kitchen while I cook, and Anna keeps you on lockdown." With a little turn and then a gentle shove, Sam found herself slumping her way miserably down the hall and into the kitchen.

She loved her friends, she really did. In fact, she was amazed by how much they worried over her every time something stupid happened and she managed to get hurt. (Being plowed over by a few wrestling guys at school had sent her to the hospital on multiple occasions. Why did they always feel the need to get violent when she was standing near them, anyway?)

While Sam absolutely adored them and worried just as much when one of them got hurt, however less often that was than when it happened to her, she dreaded what came along with that touching concern over her wellbeing.

That thing being violent over-protectiveness developed over many years of multiple injuries inflicted onto her being by way of stupidity. A certain degree of anger over being such an idiot too, for good measure.

So, Sam was guided gently into the kitchen, one of her best friends in the whole wide world grabbed a chair for her from the living room where they still sat forlornly, and sat her down at the table. She immediately requested a glass of water and began to dig around in her pockets and purse for the pills she knew she received at some point. Eventually finding them and subsequently noticing the water that had been sitting in front of her for the past five minutes, not to mention the Anna hovering behind her nervously, she popped two of the pills and washed them down with some cool, soothing, H2O.

Sam watched with mounting dread as Anna finally left her post behind her injured person and began dragging the rest of the chairs in from the living room and back to the kitchen.

Once she was done, she took a seat across from her at the table. Only a few short minutes later, some uncomfortable staring included, a steaming bowl of Chicken and Stars soup was put in front of her. Pens walked around the table and sat down beside Anna.

Sam stared down her friends a few moments longer, before shifting her glare to the soup. She wanted to make a nasty comment about how she was recovering from a car crash (except not), not a cold. But her resolve to do so slowly withered the longer she gazed into the golden depths of the broth.

Damn them for knowing how much she loved this soup.

Sighing with a certain air of resignation, she picked up the spoon also offered to her and scooped up some liquid heavenly deliciousness. Blowing on it delicately, she popped the spoon into her mouth and closed her eyes in satisfaction with a happy hum.

One eye cracked open at the sound of a small thump on the table.

Now in place of her bowl of soup, lay the house phone.

Damn. So that was their game. She couldn't believe she hadn't seen this coming. Penelope always was a bit of an extortionist. And maybe a sadist. But that was just her opinion.

"Call your mom, and then you'll get to finish your soup," Pen said smugly. Anna just remained frowning at her. "Until you've called her and told her everything is alright and that the really doesn't need to mess up whatever she's doing because she's so worried about you, you will sit at this table and weep silently while we enjoy warm, delicious, Chicken and Stars soup in front of you." Her face a stoic mask, the girl nodded to her partner in crime.

Anna returned the nod and held up a can of aforementioned soup.

"It's the last can, too." She intoned. "So you either call her now or let the soup get cold and then eaten. Or maybe we'll just pour it down the drain." The girl shrugged, smirking lightly.

Meanwhile Sam just gaped. They would do what to her soup?

"No." she said slowly. "Don't even- don't even joke about that. It's not funny." She looked to Penelope as the brunette shook her head.

"Not joking, Sam. Pick up the phone."

Sam looked incredulously between the two girls. They had to be joking right? Unfortunately for Sam, her disbelieving look was met with identical masks of determination. Shifting the shock on her features to something a little more common, a frown and a glare, she picked up the phone and began to dial without even looking at the number pad.

"I won't forget this, traitors." She muttered bitterly. "Threatening precious soup just so that I'd call my mom. This is the ultimate betrayal. Well, not the ultimate, but still pretty up there."

Anna just smiled at her and Pens allowed a small smirk to flash across her lips.

The dial tone buzzed in her ear.

Three rings and then-

"Sam? Sammy? Are you alright? Oh, god- they called me at the hospital, said you were in a car accident! I was so worried, my baby girl- You're alright, aren't you? Do I need to come home? Oh, sweetie! I'm so sorry! What happened? What was it-"

"Mom!" Sam interrupted, wincing. Oh man, she should have done this sooner. She hated it when they were right. And now she was feeling all guilty for not calling, and for not wanting to call. No no no, she didn't want to do the whole guilt-tripping thing right now! Augh.

"Mom! It's okay! I-I'm fine! Really!"

The older woman made a distressed noise on the other end and Sam winced again. Pens and Anna were leaning forward slightly, doing their best to listen in. Sam didn't notice.

"Samantha, my poor baby! They called me late last night, said the truck was totaled- what happened?"

Sam bit her lip nervously, shooting a glance up to her friends. Suddenly she was wondering if she could really do this.

Wait, of course she could do this! She had the whole car ride to freak out again and finally get a grip on herself. She was done crying. Well, at the very least she wasn't gonna do it here, and now.

"Mom, it's okay. I'm okay. Really, I am."

There was a sigh of relief on the other end. "But the hospital-" her mom said, "You had been checked into the hospital!"

Sam leaned forward and shifted the phone from her right hand to her left. She began rubbing her temple and rested her elbow on the table. "Yeah- well- I might have stepped on a piece of broken glass or something getting out of the car, and I have some other tiny cuts, and some bruises on my stomach, but it's nothing, really!" Damn, listing it out like that made it sound like a lot.

"They gave me some pain medicine and I hardly feel anything," she assured her mother. "just a little sore. They got the glass out, and I think I got out of the hospital sometime around like...three a.m. I had to wait a while in the ER, since my injuries weren't very bad." Sam stopped rubbing her temple and looked up at Anna and Penelope, twirling some hair around her finger. "Mom? You still there?"

"...I'm here, sweetheart. But I have a question for you..."

Sam stopped twirling her hair around her fingers, her mind blanching. Here it comes. Oh God, I'm not ready to die yet-

"What the HELL do you think you were doing!? Driving around willy nilly that late at night!? I should ground you for a month! Five months! A whole YEAR!"

Sam winced and pulled the offending device away from her ear. In front of her Pens was snickering behind her hand, but Anna was beside her mouthing the word "idiot" and not even attempting to hide her amusement.

Sam spared a moment to scowl in her direction, mouthing "You're dead" at her venomously before suddenly turning back to the phone a pile of pleading mush. "Mom! It wasn't that late when I left! Besides, the accident wasn't even actually my fault, and-"

"Not your fault!? Are you really going to do this, Samantha? 'No mom, it's not MY fault I was irresponsible!' Then whose was it? The monkeys that flew in front of the car and distracted you, right?"

Sam groaned and introduced her forehead to the table. Why did this have to be so painful? "No, Mom, I'm serious! It's not like that! The light was green! The idiot who T-boned my car-"

"Oh, so now it's your car, is it? Well, if it's your car I guess you can pay for what insurance doesn't cover."

Sam began contemplating whether or not it was worth it to repeatedly bash her head against the table. Right now, it was looking pretty tempting.

"Mom! Could you please just listen for a moment! Besides, you know that's not fair!" There was a tired sigh on the other end of the line. God, the woman sounded so exhausted.

"Alright, alright, Sam, I'm sorry...just...explain what happened."

Releasing a sigh of her own, Sam launched into the explanation that Paul had drilled into her head throughout the hours of sketchy contracts and non-disclosure agreement forms that she had suffered through.

When she was done regaling her tale, she could practically see her mother rubbing her temple in frustration, or worry, or maybe both.

Sam sent a furtive glance towards the two traitors sitting across from her at the table. Anna, for the moment, was texting someone, but Pens was listing with rapt attention, even though she was trying to hide it. Sam could tell though; she was staring at some stain on the tablecloth with withering intensity and fiddling with her hair with one hand. It was how Sam knew that Pens was either thinking about something serious or struggling with her math again.

A crackling came from the receiver as her mom shifted.

"Alright sweetheart. I understand, it wasn't your fault. Well, I wish that you had been maybe a bit more aware, even if you weren't in the wrong on this one."

"Only this one?"

There was a small chuckle.

"Oh hush, you. As I was saying, I get it. I'm just glad you're okay. And you're sure the pain isn't too bad?"

Sam nodded, even though the woman on the other end couldn't see it. "Yeah. The most I've had is a headache and some soreness, but I took some meds for that. Since I'm not loopy or anything, I'll assume it isn't that strong. So, I'm fine. They didn't even have to give me the strong stuff."

"Alright. I have to go now. Are Anna and Penelope there with you?"

Sam looked at her friends again. "Yeah, they are. Why? Was this planned from the start? Have I been tricked?"

"Stop being such a drama queen! Listen, I talked to their parents, they'll be staying with you until I get home. I'll be a little late, I've got to go and hash it out with the insurance company. You relax, alright?"

"Okay. Thanks, mommy. I love you."

"Love you too, Sammy-mammy. Bye."

"Bye." With that, Sam held the phone in front of her and clicked the off button. She sighed, again, and ran a hand through her hair. Ew. It was all greasy and nasty. God, she needed a shower.

"So what's the verdict?" Anna asked, tapping on the table top impatiently. "Life in prison or the death sentence?"

Sam reached for the bowl of cold soup. At this point, she really didn't care; she just needed something to fill her stomach. "I've been let off the hook, for now, anyway. Live to die another day, it seems."

Penelope nodded and Anna grinned. Sam shoveled some of the soup into her mouth before her taste buds could protest the lack of heat.

"So you guys are staying today, huh?" She asked in-between mouthfuls. Anna nodded enthusiastically and Penelope shrugged. Sam grinned and then lifted the bowl of soup to her lips. She gulped what was left down and sighed happily, using the back of her arm to wipe her face.

"That's awesome. Because I happen to have a living room full of snacks complete with tent and pillows, and I bet there are some movies just begging to be watched."

Anna squealed and made a mad dash for the TV, going straight for Netflix and The Transformers series.

To be honest, Sam wasn't sure how she felt about watching that. She mentally shrugged it off and told herself she'd have to deal with it eventually. Even if she did shiver a bit.

So the three spent the day munching on yummies and watching really corny TV shows from the 80s. Needless to say they had a blast. It was several hours later that her mother got home, but when she did it induced the long-over-due tear filled reunion everyone had been subconsciously expecting. After all of the drama that they could handle for one night was good and done, Anna and Penelope took the chance to make their escape.

When Sam nervously brought up the matter of insurance and how the hell was it gonna cover all of this when the older woman suddenly started glowing and sipping her hot chocolate with renewed happiness.

"It turns out it's not a problem!" Sam's mom was practically purring and quite frankly it was freaking the poor girl out. "The guy that hit your car? He's a rich international businessman and he was intensely embarrassed and horrified by what happened. The man actually came in while I was there, asking if it was possible to pay for the damage done to another's car." Katharine giggled. She giggled.

"Mom." Sam began, a frown plastered across her face. "Are you alright?" She waved one hand near her face. "Did someone sneak into the house and like, spike your drink or something? Should I call the cops? I'm sure they'll be happy to see me again." The woman just giggled and swatted her concerned daughter's hand away.

"Don't get sassy with me. So, I had a lovely time with the gentleman- "

"Gentleman?"

"Hush. Anyway, he just paid for the whole thing! In fact-" insert another giggle here, "-he, he took me out and we bought a brand new car!" Sam gaped.

"He- you- what?"

Her mom just started giggling some more and left her to look like a fish out of water. "You're so dramatic! He was just being courteous, is all."

Sam could not believe this. Had her mother been drugged. It wasn't like her mom was a genius or anything, but she certainly wasn't stupid! What the hell happened? How could she not see what was so suspicious about some dude coming up and not only paying for all the damages out of the kindness of their heart, but then buying a whole new ca-

Oh. Wait.

Buying a whole new car to replace the one she never crashed.

Duh. Thinking about it after realizing that it was not an anomaly of human nature, just the government trying very very hard to cover its tracks, she wouldn't be surprised if her mother had been drugged.

Sam snorted. She covered her face. Before long she was laughing like a mad-man and her mother was the one wearing the disapproving frown. Sam actually had to set down her mug of hot chocolate to keep from spilling it. Sweetie came up and licked her arms during her temporary break in sanity.

"What are you laughing at, hm?"

Sam wheezed as she tried to catch her breath and gather her thoughts. It wasn't like she could tell her mom she thought it was hilarious that the government might have either a) drugged her, or b), found the most charming dude in existence to keep her from getting suspicious of what really happened.

"The-The idea of you-" She giggled some more "-going out on a date."

Katharine went almost immediately scarlet and plopped herself down in one of the arm chairs while Sam continued to die on the couch. "Oh hush. I don't need my daughter laughing at me for going out to buy her a new car with an admittedly handsome foreigner when said daughter has yet to go on one date."

Sam's laughing stopped abruptly.

"Shuddup."

A sly smile crinkled the corners of Katharine's lips.

"Ah, hit a sore spot, then?"

Sam didn't answer but instead tossed a pillow half-heartedly at her in response.

Soon enough they were both laughing together and the night continued on in normalcy that to Sam felt too good to be true.

Two weeks later and Sam had fallen back into her normal routine. That's to say, doing absolutely nothing of importance and only occasionally leaving the house when necessary.

She was loving it.

Truthfully, Sam had found her wits about her only a few days after the incident. It felt surreal, almost like it never even happened. That didn't mean she wasn't going to relax for a while. And maybe not go near police cars anymore. (Every time she saw one she wondered if maybe it was that police car and wanted to throw up a little.)

And okay, so, maybe she now possessed a somewhat irrational fear of planes and was practically a bundle of nerves anytime she heard one go over head, but considering what had happened, she felt she deserved a little bit of room for crazy things like that.

Despite trying really hard not too, she also couldn't stop thinking about her "encounter" with the big black and purple one. So maybe it felt like it never really happened; it still did though.

After the first week of blatant denial and a lot of twitching whenever Anna went off on a rant about how absolutely wonderful and totally amazing and great and perfect all of the Transformers were, she cracked. She asked Anna if any of the bad guys ("Decepticons!") were purple and black and turned into a plane or something. ("Oh my god, you're talking about SEEKERS! AH! I LOVE THE SEEKERS!") She was then thoroughly educated on the Elite Trine and their ranks and personalities, and, most importantly, their names.

Now, she wasn't totally sure, but she was pretty certain that the...robot she "encountered" was indeed part of the Elite Trine and yes, it was Skywarp.

Which means she was actually kind of lucky.

After her crash course on the three Decepticons Fliers (as they were apparently often times referred to as), she felt positively blessed with the knowledge that it could have gone a whole lot worse.

Starscream would've done much the same as his (Brother? Underling? Friend? Nuisance?) trine mate and made some comments on weak, puny humans and how great and handsome he was, (She was recalling more as time went on. Woe to her and her excellent memory.) before squishing her mercilessly and having a good laugh about it.

Thundercracker? She didn't even want to think about God Damn Thundercracker. Mostly because all of her thoughts began with a sneer of disgust and ended with her being almost immediately dead.

She also wanted to know who the Hell thought it would be smart to make this a friendly child's cartoon with lessons about morals and laser weapons that never killed anyone.

Well, maybe she was being unfair. Apparently, according to her sources at least, (coughcoughAnnacough) the comic books were much more graphic and had some pretty serious shit go down. Especially with the bot that apparently was her Namesake.

Now that really made Sam want to throw up. She had been nicknamed after a psychotic, murdering, insane, bright sunshine yellow robot? Who was also somehow a twin?

It was here that Sam stopped trying to find out more about this stuff. She really wasn't sure she could take any more.

She especially wasn't sure if she could ever stand to find out which one that police car was- that had just been embarrassing. Telling those government guys that his(?) monotone and matter-of-fact-ness was calming? No wait, didn't she say soothing?

Would someone please shoot her in the face?

So, Sam supposed earlier thoughts of loving this "off time" of hers was more lie than truth. She was enjoying not having to do anything, but her brain was slowly and steadily pushing her closer and closer to just flat outshooting herself because she could not stop thinking.

So, two weeks later Sam was on the couch, bemoaning her inability to keep her thoughts still, and channel surfing lazily.

Suddenly, a new train of thought was thrust upon her, and she paused, Actually, she even stopped breathing for a few moments. (the channel conveniently landed on an Episode of Transformers Prime as if to mock her.)

She had spent all of the last two weeks thinking and thinking and thinking about those stupid transformers.

But...just what the hell was that thing she found in the crater?

Oh god. She was gonna be stuck on this for another two weeks.

God damn it.

"Auuuuuuugh. I hate. Everything."

Knock! Knock! Knock- SLAM!

Sam jolted as somebody slammed her front door open.

"Sunny~! I dragged Pens and Olivia over to watch Season Twooooo!"

"Honey, we're home."

"Hey Sunn- uh, I mean, Sam. Anna said if I didn't come then uh, Megatron would shoot me? Or something like that. Anyway, she said something about snacks, too."

Sam did not even hesitate in slamming her hand into her face.

Tonopah Testing Range, Nevada

(Also Known as Area 51)

Sunday, 2134 P.M.

Two Weeks after Accidental Civilian Sighting of *****(Highly Classified) Bogie 3.5 miles from nearest suburbs of Bullhead City. Debriefing with *****(Highly Classified) and other members of *****, along with any involved parties.

"At ease. Please take your seats."

Three men in formal military uniform sat down at a large oak-wood conference table. Around them in place of chairs and other persons were three view screens, and one man who remained standing.

"Gentlemen. We've gathered here for a debriefing on what is as of now an unknown ***** piece of technology. His view screen shows no image for security reasons, but we have with us today *****, *****. ****, could you please start us off?"

There was a nod, even though no one present could see it.

"Of course, General. The ***** has many lost ***** of our long *****. Things like powerful *****, *****, and ***** long forgotten were ***** for protection, in hopes that one day ***** would end, and we could rediscover all that we had lost."

The occupants of the room listened on in silence.

"Approximately two weeks prior to this day, a high danger level ***** was tracked landing approximately 3.5 miles from the suburbs of an Arizona City designation Bullhead, and two *****, Second in Command ***** and Sniper *****, were dispatched with a platoon of trained ***** soldiers to contain the threat. When they arrived, the *****, a member of the elite *****, designation *****, was found with a ***** hostage."

A few murmurs that quieted sprang up.

"Was the ***** killed?" One of the men on the view screen asked.

There was a slight crackle from the speaker, as though someone had sighed deeply.

"No. The *****, an adolescent *****, designation Samantha Hope Johnson, was mostly unharmed. She was removed from danger by *****."

"And what was the ***** doing there?" The men who were actually present in the room, having remained silent up until now, finally spoke up.

"The ***** were in the area the same reason the ***** were; they were tracking the signal from a crashed ***** that landed three days prior around 0330 A.M." One young, clean shaven man stated. "It seems that whatever was in the ***** was removed by ***** before the ***** could get there. But, coincidentally, the girl who was involved suddenly became a valuable eye-witness." The young man stepped back, and now an older, balding man stepped forward.

He had wrinkles on his face, but that did not dissuade the aura of youth he gave off. His eyes, normally shining with something lighter, were cold and professional as he opened a manila folder.

"The girl, Samantha, or just Sam, as she prefers, was able to describe, and to an extent even illustrate, in surprising detail, the object that was in the crash site." He flipped through a few pages. "Here in her statement she described it as such; "It was about the size of a beach ball, and pretty light. Round, too, like one. It almost looked like a puzzle, with lots of little lines and panels, and what might have been lights all across it. There was a band around the middle, kind of like a ring.

"It was indented, or inset, or whatever, into the ball, and there were a bunch of squiggly lines written on it. It made me think of hieroglyphics, except, Japanese hieroglyphics, since it was more lines and dots than pictures. When I shook it, it sounded like something inside rattled. Apparently, you shouldn't shake round, metal, mysterious balls, but I didn't know that at the time."" He cleared his throat at the end, trying to smother the smile that was threatening to overtake his lips. Once he regained his composure, he went on.

"Furthermore, she later went on to quote what ***** said while she was in captivity. "The ***** kept on calling that ball thing I told ya'll about earlier a 'sphere.' Well, not 'a' sphere, more like 'the' sphere. Aside from that, I was kind of too terrified to tell exactly what ***** was saying, except that ***** was upset when I wouldn't let go, as I kind of had it in a death grip at the time. Now that I think about it, there might have been some kind of clicking or crunching noise or something. I'm not sure.""

The man, finished reading, looked up from the folder.

"If you will please turn your attention to your screens, I will now display the image that Sam drew of the 'sphere', as it was called." Lifting a small clicker form his pants pocket, he pressed a single button and waited.

Elsewhere, the individuals behind the screens were intently studying a crudely drawn image, done in pencil on notebook paper. In another situation, they might have found humor in the small side notes, labeling the "Egyptian-Japanese hieroglyphs", and the "cool panels", and one in particular noting how shiny the object had been.

Instead, a grave silence settled over the room.

Finally, ***** spoke.

"I am afraid I do indeed know what this is. This object...was known as the ht/p87&9/**Nov*us Glo***b*e***/q502rf**."

"In the hands of the *****...I fear the worst."

Note: This was a true struggle in the beginning; we just couldn't seem to get the dynamics of her reunion correct, but after the first twelve pages it suddenly returned to its previous level of difficulty; long and exhausting but satisfying.

For those are wondering, as surely someone is wondering, the "bleeped" items in the teaser in the end are equivalent to those blacked out lines in top secret documents. It has been edited out for being classified as too sensitive for the public, or in this case, the readers.

The series of five asterisks can represent multiple words, and hopefully there are a few hints. We'd be interested to see how much of it you all could guess! (Benu wants to do prizes, but my availability is limited, so this may or may not become a reality.)

Thank you so much for reading, favoriting, following, and reviewing.

Thanks much, and please come again.