Author's Note: Many thanks to the new followers, and thank you to both jynkx and TheGhostWriter710 for your reviews! Please enjoy this new installment!

Disclaimer: I do not own Transformers in any shape or form. Electro is my creation.


III


"Human?" Optimus asked.

Electro glanced up from her data pad. She had secluded herself in the med bay corner, perched on the berth while she unfolded a groundbridge equation. With the loss of Cliffjumper and the unknown whereabouts of the Decepticons, she had engrossed herself in a problem she could solve—or, ideally solve. She had been formulating the possibility of opening multiple groundbridge vortexes simultaneously; however, based upon her calculations, there was a high probability that an unfortunate Autobot would merely be trapped in limbo with zero chances of escape.

Meanwhile, Optimus had relegated himself to the monitors while Ratchet recharged, his somber silence making the atmosphere heavy and fragile. Electro knew gentle words and hopeful promises would not ease his troubles—they would feel empty in the wake of sudden loss and despair. Nevertheless, she stayed close, harboring the same space in a quiet offering of comfort and support.

Arcee and Bumblebee had returned to base a few kliks ago, recounting their encounter with the Decepticons—the third attack in a short span of time. Electro had been lingering on that information, wondering if her own encounter during the street race had been more than coincidence. Optimus's voice, however, had returned her to the present.

Bumblebee beeped and held up two digits.

"Two boys," Optimus rumbled, servos stilling on the keypad.

Arcee folded her arms, bristling with irritation. "I guess a second one caught us in action—I don't know! Was a little busy at the time."

Electro tilted her head, amused, and said, "And you call me reckless."

Arcee leaned back and glanced toward the med bay, apparently unaware of Electro's presence. She scoffed. "Racing with humans for fun and evading Decepticons are two different situations. I held my cover until I had no choice. The human wouldn't have been a problem if he hadn't been trying to impress his girlfriend with me."

A bubble of laughter erupted from Electro. It loosened the tension in her spark. "Arcee, a human matchmaker? A fascinating concept."

"Save it."

Optimus turned from the computers, appearing less amused. "If the Decepticons are targeting us," he said, "anyone perceived as our ally will be at grave risk."

Electro powered off her data pad and rose, stretching stiff joints. "They're humans. I doubt the Decepticons would waste their resources looking for them." She measured a unit between her digits. "They're small."

Bumblebee beeped timidly, "But the 'Cons got a good look at them before they retreated."

Electro paused, frowning. The Decepticon troops were not necessarily strategic or diabolical; but, if they presented their findings to Soundwave, the humans would have few places to hide. "Soundwave does keep a tidy record," she mumbled, stashing her data pad in her subspace.

Bumblebee nodded and whirled, "So…we go get them?"

"Absolutely not!" Arcee said, waving a hand. "We are supposed to be a secret. If we start bringing humans here, then who knows what will happen."

"Arcee, though I agree that bringing humans here is…less than desirable," Optimus said, "we cannot willingly leave them in danger."

Electro, Arcee, and Bumblebee all exchanged glances. Finally, Electro said, "I volunteer to break the news to Ratchet."


Electro had barely managed to say bringing humans to the base before Ratchet exploded into a stream of expletives and protests. When he started to blame her, she pointed at Optimus, who had appeared around the corner at the commotion. Then she ducked away as Optimus calmed down the old medic and explained the situation.

She slipped into her and Optimus's room and removed her data pad from subspace, sliding it onto the singular, rudimentary shelf in the room. She had welded a discarded piece of metal to the wall and stored her research there; and, eventually, Optimus had placed his own datapads alongside hers. He had three: two historical records and a classical work. He also kept a hologram cube on the shelf, which she accidentally touched and activated. An image of her and Optimus attending a social event appeared, arms entwined while they danced to a soft, lilting tune. Electro was occupied watching their pedes, worried she would trip them both; and Optimus was staring at her, amusement lifting the corners of his mouth. Such a distant memory, she mused, turning the cube to see the hologram at different angles.

The door whooshed open, and Optimus ducked into the room. His optics flicked from her to the hologram, then he closed the distance between them. When he was beside her, he grabbed the cube and studied the image, his features soft.

Electro elbowed him. "Is that your favorite memory of me? Embarrassing myself?" she joked.

He hummed. "You were not embarrassing. You were beautiful that evening." He rotated through the images, bypassing several memories until he settled upon one of her. "But I suppose I am partial to this one."

It captured her at an angle, from the waist up, holding an archaic data tome in one servo while staring coyly at the viewer. She had been in the Iacon Hall of Records restricted section, much the chagrin of Orion Pax. He had been preoccupied with an influx of requests that cycle and refused to take a break; however, when Electro had managed to bypass security to the oldest section of the Hall, Orion had appeared rather quickly. Electro was surprised he saved that memory.

"I suppose it would serve as a good wanted poster," Electro said. She studied the hologram for a couple more kliks, then closed her servo over the image, disengaging the device. "Are you sure it's wise to bring humans here? I understand your concern about the Decepticons, but we're not quite equipped to care for another species. Especially one so small."

"It is not preferable," Optimus relented, replacing the hologram cube on the shelf. "But the Decepticons' recent aggression is concerning. If they are planning to weaken us, then may seek any means necessary–including innocent humans."

"They were only bystanders—not soldiers. Wouldn't associating with them further draw unnecessary attention?"

Optimus shuttered his optics. "If there is anything I have learned about the Decepticons throughout the centuries, they will exploit every advantage. Even the briefest meeting opens the door for them to attack."

Electro crossed her arms. She could not argue with him—they both knew too well the danger of relationships during this war. However, the open wound of Cliffjumper's death still bled; and the idea of caring for a couple of children only compounded the stress on the team. Of course she did not want more casualties, but her immediate concern revolved around her comrades. Ratchet was not far from the truth: protecting humans would only cause more problems.

Venting softly, Electro said, "Shall we join the welcoming committee?"

Optimus rested a servo on his shoulder, his thumb brushing over her Autobot insignia. "I will join you shortly."

She laid her servo over his briefly, then strode out of the room, turning toward the main hangar. As she drew near, she heard the rumble of engines, signaling the return of Arcee and Bumblebee. When she entered the hangar, however, she saw a new issue: Bumblebee had one small human, and Arcee transported a male and a female. Electro was decent with mathematics, and that certainly added to more than two boys.

Ratchet, who had resumed his post at the monitors, confirmed her theory. "I thought there were two," he groused.

Arcee transformed, resting a hand on her hip. "Haven't you heard?" she sighed. "Humans multiply."

"Biology is a bad excuse," Electro quipped, sidling beside Bulkhead.

The young boy who accompanied Bumblebee waved, staring at all of them with an awed expression. He was short compared to the other two, indicating a young age, and he wore a pair of optical enhancers. "I'm Raf," he said.

The girl with color-streaked hair ran toward Bulkhead. "I'm Miko!" she said, radiating excitement. "Who are you?"

Bulkhead glanced at Ratchet, then Electro. The latter shrugged. "Bulkhead," he said timidly.

Miko gasped. "Are you a car? No, I bet you're a truck—a monster truck! Do you like heavy metal? How much do you weigh? Ever use a wrecking ball for a punching bag?" Suddenly, she pointed at Electro. "You're both green—are you related? Do you fight together? Oh, do you date?"

"No way," they said simultaneously. They glanced at each other, then each said, "No offense."

Raf raised a hand. "So…if you guys are robots, who made you?"

"Puh-lease," Ratchet snorted.

Behind the humans, Optimus was approaching. He quizzically noted the three humans and glanced at Electro, an optic ridge raised. Electro smirked and gestured to him.

"If you want a history lesson," she chuckled, "ask OP."

The humans turned and gawked up at Optimus. Despite the species, Optimus never failed to garner awe and respect from others. Prime, for his part, humbly introduced himself. "We are autonomous robotic organisms from the planet Cybertron, also known as Autobots. I am Optimus Prime, leader of the Autobot resistance." He gestured to Arcee and Bumblebee."This is Arcee and Bumblebee, who you have already encountered on your…escapade last night."

Bumblebee waved, wings perking up. "Sorry about the car again," he whirred.

Interestingly, Raf understood and replied with a nervous chuckle. "It's okay. You're easily a lot cooler."

Optimus continued, "Ratchet is our chief medical officer, and Bulkhead, one of my fiercest warriors." Ratchet rested his hands on his hips, still bristling, and Bulkhead punched a fist into his hand. Finally, Optimus looked to Electro, his gaze softening. "And this is Electro, our groundbridge specialist."

Electro looked at Miko and nodded to Optimus. "I'm with him."

One of the humans—undesignated, sporting dark hair—stepped closer to Optimus and asked, "Why are you here?"

Optimus returned his attention to the humans. "To protect your planet from the Decepticons," he said.

"The jokers who tried to bump us off last night, Jack," Arcee supplied.

"Okay," the human–Jack–said slowly, "why are they here?"

Optimus knelt. He still loomed over the humans, but Electro found the gesture endearing. "A fair question, Jack. In part, they are here because our planet is uninhabitable—ravaged by centuries of civil war."

"Why were you fighting a war?" Raf asked.

An uneasy tension settled over the base, and the team exchanged glances. The war had consumed significant portions of their lives, and memories of the Golden Age had faded in the wake of destruction and loss. Even before the war had devolved to the shedding of energon, political unrest and silent insurrection had plagued their planet. It felt pointless to explain such a long, complicated history to a species so young.

Nevertheless, Optimus offered his best explanation. "Foremost, we fought over control of our world supply of energon, the fuel and lifeblood of all Autobots and Decepticons alike. The combat was fierce and endured for centuries." He paused, then added solemnly, "In the beginning, I fought alongside one who I considered a brother. But in war, ideals can be corrupted; and it was thus that Megatron lost his way and led the Decepticons in a different direction."

An ominous pause filled the space. Then, almost comically, Miko asked, "Is there gonna be a quiz?"

Jack glared at her before saying, "So, what does Megatron or any of this have to do with us?"

"Megatron has not been seen or heard from in some time," Optimus said slowly. Electro heard the worry belying his tone, reminding her of their conversation the other night. "But if his return is imminent, as I fear, it could be catastrophic. And since you now know of our existence, I fear that as of last night, the Decepticons know of yours."

Jack raised his hands. "Got it, if we spot any strange vehicles, call 9-1-1." He glanced at them all. "Can we go now?"

"Are you insane?" Miko barked. "I'm living a dream here in Botswana, and I will not allow you or anyone else to shatter it."

Optimus rose to his full height. "It is best that you three remain under our watch. At least until we can determine our enemy's intention."

"Optimus," Ratchet said, stepping next to Optimus, "with all due respect, the human children are in as much danger here as anywhere."

"Children?" Jack gawked.

"They have no protective shell!" Ratchet continued, waving his hands. "If they get underfoot they will go…squish."

"Then, for the time being, Ratchet, we must watch where we step," Optimus deadpanned.

Electro began to speak, but green lights flashed in the hangar, followed by an insistent alarm. It was merely a proximity sensor, as Bumblebee explained to the panicking humans, but Electro dreaded who the visitor may be. Ratchet approached the computers and checked the cameras. A helicopter hovered into view.

"It's Agent Fowler," Ratchet sighed.

"I thought we were the only humans who knew about you guys?" Jack said.

"I wish," Electro mumbled, leaning against the wall.

"Special Agent Fowler is our designated liaison to the outside world," Optimus explained, giving Electro a sideways glance. Optimus knew that Fowler was more annoying than helpful on most days. Then again, Electro usually conducted activities that created more paperwork for Fowler, so perhaps the feeling was mutual. Optimus continued, "As he tends to visit only when there are issues, it may be best if you do not meet him at this time."

The humans ducked beneath the scaffolding, concealed by the concrete reinforcements. Team Prime gathered near the whooshing elevator, preparing for the government representative to appear through the chrome doors. Electro meandered between Optimus and Bulkhead. Eventually, the elevator opened, and Agent Fowler strode toward the railing. He did not greet anyone–only began listing offenses.

"Seven wrecks, thirty-four fender benders, a three-hour traffic jam, and–a particular note–numerous reports of a speeding motorcycle of unknown make and a black and yellow custom muscle car." He gripped the railing and leaned forward. "I'm surprised to hear your need-for-speed girlfriend wasn't in on this too—unless I'm missing something."

Electro shifted her weight to one pede and crossed her arms. "To you, Fowler, it's Electro. And I'm not a criminal."

"The paperwork on my desk says otherwise," Fowler snapped at her before glaring at Optimus. "So, anything you care to get off your tin chest, Prime?"

"We're not made of tin," Electro mumbled.

Optimus waved a servo at her, then turned to Fowler. "We have the situation under control, Agent Fowler."

Fowler narrowed his eyes. "They're back, aren't they?"

Unease filtered between them and the liaison. Agent Fowler was informed about the Decepticons and their presence on Earth; however, they had been able to avoid direct confrontation for the past three stellar cycles. Now that the Decepticons were staging attacks, Fowler would feel the need to involve the human military–an unnecessary response, since Cybertronian technology outweighed human advancements. Fowler, unfortunately, had yet to establish his trust with the Autobots.

"If you are referring to the Decepticons, I have doubts that they ever left. Your planet is much too valuable," Optimus rumbled.

"Then it's time to wake up the Pentagon."

"Hear me, Agent Fowler, we are your best, possibly your only defense, against the Decepticon threat."

"Says you," Fowler growled.

"Hey fleshy," Bulkhead interjected. "Did anyone get splattered on that freeway?" He snatched a random tool from Ratchet's kit, making Electro wince. "Team Prime knows when to use force…" He crushed the tool, sparks flying. "…and how much to use."

"Bulkhead! I needed that!" Ratchet shouted.

This was why Electro kept her tools in her and Optimus's room.

"Enough," Optimus ordered. To Fowler, he said, "Military involvement will only result in catastrophe." He straightened. Electro did not have to see Optimus's expression to register the anger emanating off of him. "Perhaps you can condone widespread human casualties, Agent Fowler. I, however, cannot."

Fowler glared at each of them. Finally, he said, "Then do us both a favor and handle this, Prime—under the radar. Or I will."

He spun on his heel and reentered the elevator. Once the doors sealed, Electro let her shoulders drop. "Can we request a different liaison?" she asked.

"Pretty big bearings—for a human," Bulkhead mumbled.

The tension leaked from Optimus's frame as he regained composure. "Agent Fowler is concerned for his world, Bulkhead, as he should be." He shifted, glancing at Electro. "His threats are not against us."

"Not threatened," Electro clarified. "Just annoyed."

The humans emerged from hiding. Miko raced toward Electro, and Electro froze. She understood Ratchet's concern: the humans were small and quick, and one misstep would be disastrous. Miko launched a volley of questions at Electro: "How fast can you go? Are you a racecar? Can you take me for a spin?"

"Don't encourage her," Bulkhead warned.

Electro laughed. She liked the human girl. "Maybe one day," she said, winking.


"You spoke to Ratchet."

Electro, who was sprawled on the berth, glanced away from her data pad–same equation as earlier–and watched Optimus enter the room. He sat on the edge of the berth, looking down at her. It was late evening, and the base felt quiet. Optimus had dispersed the Autobots with the humans, to ensure that the Decepticons did not launch an attack upon them. Arcee was charged with Jack, Bumblebee with Raf, and Bulkhead with Miko. Jack seemed less enthused about the idea, but the other two humans nearly burst with joy. Electro was secretly relieved she did not have guardianship–though, she sympathized with the team's new responsibility. She would offer to switch with one of them, for the next night.

"Maybe," Electro hummed, laying the pad on her chassis. She pursed her lips. "You worry me sometimes."

Optimus did not respond. He gently grabbed the data pad, and Electro released it with a reluctant sigh. He analyzed the information. "Simultaneous bridges?" he murmured, curious.

"It's a theory. But it's too dangerous." She rubbed her optics. "Unless, of course, you want to step between realities."

Optimus hummed, still perusing the data. Electro watched him, remembering a different era: when Optimus had been a librarian, always engrossed in various data vats. She had met him in the archives of Iacon. She had been searching for research concerning spacebridges and energon consumption, in the hopes of finding a breakthrough calculation in her current project. Optimus–then Orion–had been one of the few mechs who actually understood the words leaving her vocal processor. He never interrupted or dismissed her, either. He had been a fresh wind in a sea of rusty minds.

Finally, Electro shattered the silence and asked, "Is it Megatron?"

Optimus rested his elbows on his knees, optics still focused on the data pad. "If he has returned–"

Electro sat up. "We will handle it, remember?"

"We have lost Cliffjumper."

She winced. She regretted her brusqueness earlier, when discussing the safety of the humans. Cliffjumper's loss was a barbed wound for him, too. "I know. I miss him."

"I cannot lose more Autobots."

Scooting to the edge of the berth, Electro settled beside Optimus and slid the data pad from him, powering it down. She laid it on the floor, then grasped one of Optimus's servos. His servo dwarfed hers as he closed his digits.

"Neither can I," she whispered. "You all are my family. I would give my spark for any of you." Optimus squeezed her servo tightly; again, she wished she could feel the innermost emotions of his spark. Nevertheless, she continued, "But you said it yourself. For each other, for humanity, for Cliffjumper–we're going to keep fighting. Megatron or not." She paused, then added softly, "I will not leave you. Ever."

Light danced in Optimus's optics as he turned his helm to look at her, and he leaned forward, pressing his forehead against hers. She cupped his face with her free servo. They held that position for a few moments. Too soon, Optimus pulled away, and Electro let her servo fall away.

After a klik, Optimus said, "I hope you do not plan to take the one called Miko driving."

Electro chuckled. "I wouldn't race with a human." She shrugged. "But…maybe a quick spin around the base?"

"Electro."

"You're jealous that a sports car is more attractive than a semi."

"That is not the point."

She traced the Autobot insignia on his shoulder. "Honestly, it depends on how long the humans stay. I don't want to get her hopes up." She tilted her helm. "Admittedly, I like her. And Raf understands Bumblebee, which is a surprise to all of us, I think. And Jack…he's responsible. Like you, I suppose."

"You're comparing me to a teenage boy?"

"Actually, I was comparing him to a tall, Autobot commander with a good spark. But, if you prefer the other…"

Optimus shook his helm, a gentle smile on his face. He nudged her to the inside of the berth, and he lay beside her. Normally, she hated recharging on the inside of the berth, with the wall corralling her. However, as Optimus turned to his side, allowing Electro to draw near and press her forehead to his chassis, hearing his sparkbeat, she relaxed. She was reminded of their time on Cybertron, in the midst of the war. During the rare occasions they were able to recharge together, Optimus placed himself as a barrier between any entry point and her. If anyone attacked, he would take the first blow. She wondered if he felt that vulnerable now–if he worried, by some cruel workings of the universe, that Megatron and his army would come crashing through those doors.

As Electro allowed her systems to shut down, she said, "If you do want to go for a drive, at least take me with you."

"I will not leave," Optimus assured, his arm closing around her.

She believed him.