[ti]Ep 3[/ti]Rocky Road [Closed - Nathan, Petrichor]

[Petrichor]

Week 3 | Day 1

Everyone had relaxed a bit once Ratchet had been found and returned to base, but things still weren’t the same as before. Not that Petrichor had really much to go off of on how things actually had been before, since their CMO had disappeared only five days after her arrival. Still, it was obvious that everyone was still pretty shook up. She had wanted to help, but had limited experience with any of the team members and wasn’t familiar enough yet with the proper field protocols for this planet. Sure she had been kept busy with simple tasks around base but there was only so much she could do during the high intensity week of scrambling and searching, and now…well now everyone was all paranoid any time anyone left the base – especially when it came to newbies like herself – unless it was for some routine task that held little risk. Needless to say, Petrichor had been feeling pretty useless and being cooped up inside for longer than she liked wasn’t helping. It was making her antsy and it was starting to grate on the others, she was sure.

Petra exvented a sigh, flicking half-heartedly through various human scientific articles on her datapad. She’d already read most of the ones on this particular site. Getting in some practice at the training room would have been an option she would have considered – if she hadn’t already visited it earlier that day. She’d even settle for driving around the nearest town, Jasper, but she hadn’t gotten a holographic emitter installed into her frame yet, what with Ratchet having been missing and not wanting to take away precious time from their only remaining medic, Patch, at the time. It wasn’t something Petrichor viewed as taking priority when somebot could’ve come in at any moment needing immediate medical attention. Not to mention the windows to her alt mode weren’t tinted enough to hide the fact that no one was sitting in the driver’s seat. That particular conundrum had been an oversight on her part. She exvented again and shifted in her seated position, switching the leg she had crossed over the other. The Rec-Room was usually empty at this time of day, but it was better than being holed up in her room. She couldn’t even find the will to journal, that’s how bored she was. Her optics went over the same line of text again for what was probably the sixth time, still not taking any of it in.

“Oh for the love of – “

She exasperatedly set the datapad down on the table in front of her with a light clack, both peds coming to the floor and leaned back in her chair. Her servos scrubbed at her face before dropping limply to her lap, head still tilted up at the ceiling releasing a groan. At least in space when she had nothing to do with Kamal, there had been nothing to tempt her with adventure. Here, there was a perfectly good, ready to explore world waiting for her right outside the base walls! But she had no real reason to leave. No reasonable task or excuse to give.

[Nathan Walker]

Miko was right in some respects. Being inside the wire sucked. But it was safe, usually.

Nathan was walking down the hallway of Omega One, keeping careful to walk along the sides of the hallway as instructed to avoid getting stomped on by a passing Autobot. He wanted to get a good idea of the layout of this base, in case the worst happened. It was something he had always done since he was in the regular army because it paid to be prepared for when the shit hit the fan. Because in his experience, it always did.

It had been a few days since he had arrived here, and so far...things seemed different than a standard military base. While there were rules and order, and a semi clear command structure, the rules were a lot looser than most bases he had been on. There was no emphasis on saluting or on military decorum. But there was a sense of high alert, especially over what had happened nearly a week ago. Nathan had heard that the Autobot’s Chief Medical Officer, named Ratchet had been kidnapped by the rogue human element MECH before being recovered. Makes sense they’d be a bit jumpy. Perhaps that was also why he was brought here...

Nathan turned down into a room, seeing it layed out with a set of tables and chairs, though they were a lot bigger than any tables and chairs he had ever seen. Over in the corner there seemed to be a dispenser of some kind, perhaps that is where they got their “fuel”. And speaking of them, it seems he was not alone. One of the Autobots was sitting at the table, reading something off what looked like a tablet.

“Oh for the love of – “

Someone was not having a fun day. Nathan walked closer into the room, but stayed close to the wall as he observed before speaking.

“Rough day?”

[Petrichor]

Petrichor heard the voice, but when she brought her gaze down from the ceiling to see who it was, there was no one there. Then her light blue optics traveled further down and saw a human male standing not far off near one of the walls.

“Oh! Sorry, I thought I was the only one in here…Uh, yeah. Not so much a rough day as a series of extremely boring ones strung together. I feel – ” She searched for a single word that would encompass the multiple different emotions she was currently experiencing: useless, anxious, bored, inexperienced, restless. “ – frustrated I guess. I can’t do anything or go anywhere. Not even out for a drive really; not without someone to accompany me. Those are more-or-less the rules right now.”

She moved in her chair to face the man, looking at him a little more closely now. He was tall and well-built for a male of his species, with dark hair and green optics.

Eyes. Humans call them 'eyes.'

Petrichor hadn’t really interacted much with any of the humans that could be sporadically found around base. She almost avoided being around the children, scared she might accidentally hurt them or do something that would upset them or their guardians. They were to basically be protected at all costs and that in itself made her nervous just being near them. The adults were a slightly different story though. They were, well, adults. They were responsible and old enough to make their own decisions and thus to an extent, could be held responsible for their own actions as well. The bots couldn’t really do that with the kids though. If something happened and you were nearby, then you would be the one held accountable. Her attention drifted back to the man standing along the wall. Was she supposed to help him up to the table so they could speak at more eye-level? That was polite, wasn’t it? Or should she move from her chair and crouch down to be more at his level? But wouldn’t it be rude to do either though since it clearly pointed out their difference in sizes? Why was this so confusing?!

This is ridiculous. You’re being rude by not even introducing yourself. At least do that.

“I don’t believe we’ve officially met. I’m Petrichor – Autobot scout and general ‘gofer’ here around base for the past week.” She smiled brightly though. She honestly didn’t mind doing generic tasks for others. At least then she was doing something. A pause and then she added somewhat sheepishly with a half-chuckle, “I’m pretty new here, so I’m not totally sure how exactly to umm, talk to you? Like, are you fine where you are or should I offer you a servo – err hand – up? I don’t want to insult you or anything…umm…”

ShutupShutupShutupShutup. Primus, why am I always so bad at introductions?

[Nathan Walker]

Nathan could always tell when someone was nervous, no matter the species. Human, deer, elk, hell even an alien from another planet it seems.

“I can relate. Something’s happened and you get locked down. Must be worse for you lot since you all can turn into cars and helicopters...”

This one seemed different than the ones he had met previously. Roughly about the size of the one who had introduced himself as Jazz, but there were numerous differences. One, she seemed to be a bit bigger than Jazz, though not as big as Skirmisher. That was interesting...for being robots they were individual and unique, much like humans. Different sizes, paint jobs, appearances...uncanny...

“Nice to meet you ma’am. Name’s Sergeant Nathan Walker, from NEST.”

It felt instinctive to call her ma’am. Something drilled into Nathan Walker from a young age as a mark of respect, even before joining the military. Plus it seemed like the right thing to do, since apparently these individuals lived to be millions of years old. Petrichor could have known his ancestors going back to the stone age and still would have been older than them.

“If it’s all the same to you ma’am, I’d like to look you in the eye while I speak to you. If that means a trip in your hand, that’s fine by me.”

He took a step forward from the wall, eyes on a swivel and open for the sound of footfalls. He was going out into a type of no man’s land, the chances of getting squished going up dramatically. But sometimes it required a leap of faith, like jumping out of a C-130 in the dead of night.

[Petrichor]

So he was a sergeant, with a casual but polite military greeting to boot. He carried himself and spoke with an air of confidence that always seemed to accompany such a position and life experience. Petra could relate to that a little, although she herself still lacked some of the more confident attributes. He appeared to be cautious though too. A necessity for his line of work, she’d imagine, eyes scanning their surroundings before stepping forward. She could definitely relate to being cautious as a scout.

“Well then, Sergeant, hop on.” She leaned down and offered him a servo, laying it out flat against the cool concrete of the floor. “And you can just call me Petrichor or Petra if you’d rather. I’m pretty sure if our places were reversed, you’d rank higher than me. In fact, I’m confident that would be the case.” She smirked at him. “Not that I mind being called ma’am. It’s just…different. Kinda makes me feel old to be honest.”

She kept herself perfectly still so he could safely step on. She did not want to cause him to fall off.

I’m about to hold an intelligent, sentient being of an alien race. Actually, pretty sure I’m the alien in this scenario. This is his planet. Just, whatever you do, don’t drop him.

Not that Petrichor thought she’d actually drop him – her self-confidence wasn’t that low. She was known to have steady and strong servos. She needed to in order to be a good excavator and climber; and since joining the war, a decent shot too. That being said, a mental warning/reminder never hurt, especially when she felt this excited about something new. She’d never held a human before. Were they heavy? She gave the Cybertronian equivalent of an amused snort. Probably not.

[Nathan Walker]

They did not teach you this at basic or selection...

Nathan approached the offered hand, climbing up into it while holding onto what would be the thumb of her hand. It was metal and cold, no surprise there yet strangely alive, like human flesh. He steadied himself by dropping to one knee on her palm while waiting for her to lift him up to a higher elevation. This was a...strange experience to say the least. Perhaps this was  

“With all due respect, I understand that you are significantly older than me. And I would be lying if it was not instinctive of me to do so since I was a boy. But as you wish.”

Petra huh. Did she name herself after the archaeological site located over in Jordan? No, that was unlikely. It was most likely, similar to Jazz and Skirmisher, that this was just what her name translated into when spoken in English.

“Ready, Petra.”

[Petrichor]

As soon as he stepped on her servo, Petrichor felt a spike of nervous excitement. He was just like her, only organic and small, although his size did not lessen the fact in Petrichor’s mind that he was no less intelligent than her. This was incredible! She could feel the warmth radiating from his endothermic body and transferring into the cool metal of her fingers where he latched on with his own tiny fingers. Petrichor marveled at the being she now cradled in her servo. For a moment, she just stayed where she was, taking it all in, before his affirmation of being ready snapped her back into motion.

“Moving up,” she said automatically before lifting herself and her new passenger up to the table she had been seated at. Her climbing protocols subconsciously booted up and started running, calling for clear communication between both parties before making any kind of movement forward.

Gently, Petra deposited him onto the surface of the table. Even though the whole thing had only lasted a couple of seconds, she felt almost winded – breathless – at the experience.

That was certainly something new.

She smiled at him, optics bright behind her half-visor, frame practically humming. She had so many questions now that her initial caution around humans had been breached, but she decided to stick with one that was still relevant to their current situation and was less personal or intrusive than something like ‘what’s it like to be warm all the time?’

“How’s this? Little more optic-le – I mean, eye-level, and reduced risk of accidentally getting underfoot.”

Settling herself once more in her chair – was it just her or was it more comfortable now? – to have a proper conversation with one Sergeant Nathan Walker.

“So what do you do when you’re bored out of your processor and have been kept inside for too long, Sergeant Walker?”

The fact that she had reverted to the Cybertronian version of 'mind' completely escaping her. She was still new to all this and hadn't really talked to any of the humans on base enough for it to be habit yet.

[Nathan Walker]

For centuries, mankind had wondered what it would be like to meet another life form, to interact with them. That sense of wonder and amazement was going through Nathan’s mind at hyperspeed while he was being lifted up in the air by Petrichor’s hand. This did not match any sort of ascension he had experienced in all of twenty nine years, and he had experienced quite a few during his military career.

As he stared into her eyes, he was surprised to see that behind that visor that her eyes were bright and full of life. Almost like a...flame, but not any flame that Nathan had ever seen before. It was artificial, but natural at the same time. Extraordinary, truly extraordinary.

“This is perfect Petra, thank you. Now as to what do I do when I am stuck inside and bored? That entirely depends on where I am and when. Back when I was on combat deployment in the regular army, when I was inside the wire, I got a book on origami and would practice that. Or I’d read a book, take a walk, play a game of basketball. If I am at home, I’d read a book, watch an old movie from my collection, cook some food if it’s dinner time...”

He paused and gave it some thought. Where would they get paper big enough for a Cybertronian to practice origami, or a basketball and hoop that she could play on. Cybertonian’s did not eat human food it seems...

“I don't know if that helps anything.”

[Petrichor]

Petrichor listened attentively as he listed off some of the hobbies he participated in. ‘Read, walk, play basketball, watch movies and Origami’ – whatever that was.

“I seem to recall hearing about ‘basketball’ somewhere, but I’m afraid I’m not familiar with the activity, and I have no idea what ‘Origami’ is. Reading however, is something I do quite a bit of myself,” she replied, nudging the datapad she had set down earlier with a finger and straightening it. “Though, I’ve had more than my fill of it lately, which is a statement in and of itself,” she chuckled and sat forward, bringing herself closer to Nathan. “Did you know that some of your scientists recently developed a synthetic peptide sequence based on a large lizard called the Komodo Dragon that helps hasten the healing process of organic tissues? I didn’t either until I read about it in an article today. It’s not necessarily useful information, but it is interesting none the less. Earth is so much more complex than I originally thought before arriving here.”

And I still can’t go explore it without an experienced partner.

Her gaze got a far-away look for a moment before returning to focus on Nathan where he stood on the table, an idea coming to mind. He was experienced; he knew about the planet – he was a native for crying out loud; he could be her partner while simultaneously be her cover for not being a self-driving vehicle. This was perfect! They could go out for a drive and he could tell her more about his home and the interesting things he and other humans liked to do. Totally, completely safe. They wouldn’t even have to go very far. Petra just wanted some time out of the base. But…only if Nathan wanted to. Petra certainly wasn’t going to push, but she could at least offer the idea.

“So I’m having a thought, Sergeant…I can’t leave base without a partner who knows their way around and I don’t have a holographic emitter yet to disguise the fact that I’m driverless. Would you be open to going for a drive with me? I’d love to learn more about you and your planet. I’d be more than willing to answer any questions you might have as well about us and Cybertron.”

[Nathan Walker]

She seemed a lot more informed than he would have given her credit for.

Nathan stayed in a kneeling position down on one knee while Petra spoke, maintaining eye contact with her while he listened closely. While some things were different, some things were the same no matter what culture, be it from Earth or from Cybertron. Appreciation for the written word seemed to be something that transgressed cultural lines.

“I can show you an example of both basketball and origami sometime if you want. Though I know what a komodo dragon is, the rest of that just went over my head. I am no scientist. I am just a soldier, Petra.”

He watched casually as she appeared to be deep in a train of thought, thoughts going through his mind as well. Of course she would think this place was basic and backwater. Despite humanity’s advancement over six thousand years, for the most part technology had been pretty stagnant until the early 1800’s. Humanity's greatest scientific achievements involved going to the moon. These Cybertronians have traveled across the galaxy. Of course they would think this place a backwater.

His eyebrow arched as Petra outlined her thought to him, his mind coming up with all sorts of reasons why to say no to it. They, she specifically, had orders to remain within the wire. But as he thought about it longer, he realized what she was saying was not as stupid as he had originally thought. He was a highly trained special forces operator. If he prepared for this right, should MECH ambush them he could give them a nasty surprise, which might lead to enough time in order to escape. He nodded.

“As long as you clear it with your boss, it’s fine with me. I will have to grab a few things from my ‘office’ before we head out though.”

[Petrichor]

“Ah. Well, while I may be familiar with many forms of science, I’m no biologist. And if it makes you feel any better, your scientists and researchers seem pretty similar to our own: we like to use big words. It makes us feel special.”

Petra grinned at him. Honestly, most academic papers were really only read by those who were in the same field or needed specific information to buff up their own research. While she enjoyed the subject of studying living things, it was not her forte. She had really only selected that particular article earlier that morning because it was one of the links at the top of the webpage. Most of the vocabulary that was subject-specific she’d had to look up to understand. Even now, her processor couldn’t recall half of what she had read, only the basics from the paper’s abstract remained.

When Nathan didn’t immediately shoot her idea to go for a drive down, Petrichor was ecstatic. His suggestion of clearing it with Optimus – or probably Prowl or Red Alert if he was unavailable – was without saying. Of course she’d ask for permission first. The last thing she wanted was to receive a verbal lashing and possibly spend some time in the brig for something as stupid as sneaking out without permission. The thought alone of going against orders without a valid reason made her anxious.

“Of course! I’ll see if I can’t ping Optimus on comms first.”

Sitting up straighter and lightly tapping the side of one of her audials, Petrichor opened a private line to the Prime, sending a ping alert tagged with her identification. It was a discreet way to get someone’s attention and – should they be available – answer at their leisure, but could be easily ignored if the receiver was otherwise occupied. Having done that, she returned her attention to the human waiting on the table.

“Done. Hopefully he’s around. If not, I don’t think I could see Red Alert or Prowl agreeing to this kind of outing. They’re kind of…” she searched for the right word. “High-strung? No, that’s not right…at least, not for Prowl anyway. Honestly, I have nothing but respect for them; they’re just doing their jobs, and they do them really well…”

She didn’t finish her sentence though; the unsaid ‘but’ hanging clearly in the air between them.

But trying to live up to their high expectations all the time is draining. I just want to do the best I can without disappointing anyone.

That wasn’t Nathan’s problem though. It wasn’t even Prowl’s or Red Alert’s. It was her own, and she’d be damned if she put any excess baggage on anyone else. Everyone had enough problems of their own as it was. She’d gladly take it all away for them if she could, but the most she could do was be there when they needed her. She sighed. Once again, she wished she could be more helpful.

Focus on the present.

“Would you like a lift to your office while we wait? Hang on...I don’t think I actually know where your office is.” Her face scrunched in thought, trying to recall if she had ever been shown the human quarters in the base. She wasn't certain. Weren't they near the Control Room? She was certain she'd never seen the interior of one. Were they like her own room? No, they were probably smaller to accommodate their size. But then again, the control room was an original part of the once-human base and was very large.

[Nathan Walker]

Scientists liked to feel important alright. Nathan sometimes found that they did this to conceal that their knowledge did not equate to wisdom...

Nathan had once asked his grandfather, Marcus Crane, who had been a soldier and sheriff before retiring into the rural parts of Arizona with his wife, what wisdom was and how it differed from being smart or intelligent. The old warrior had thought for a long moment, tapping the wheel of that Chevy K-10 truck before replying.

“Well Nathan, intelligence is knowing you know something, but wisdom is knowing you do not know everything...”

Those words had stuck with him for over a decade, even after the old man had passed on almost three years ago.

Nathan watched Petra as she pinged the big boss on the comms. He cocked his head to the side as she mentioned two other individuals. Red Alert and Prowl...he remembered hearing or reading those names somewhere. Ah yes, Red Alert was head of security around here. Something of a...paranoid, got his ears to the ground everywhere. And Prowl was the strategist, who was described generously as a bit of an asshole. Nathan had known a few officers like that back in the regular army, guys who only focused on the mission. Great at getting the job done. He sensed the unsaid but left hanging in the air, but did not press any further. If she wanted to say something, she would have. He did not pry. Everyone had their own little secrets they needed to keep.

“It’s not far, I’ll just walk and meet you in the control room. But if you could give me a lift down to the floor it would be appreciated.”

[Petrichor]

If she could blush, there would have been an embarrassed tint to Petrichor’s cheeks.

He’s stuck on the table, bolts for brains. You put him there.

“Right! Sorry, haha.”

Standing from her seat, she repeated the same motions as before, laying an open palm flat against the table for Nathan to climb onto and stating when she was about to move before doing so. It was just as novel as the first time, feeling his warm mass balanced on her servo. Her motions were smooth as she kneeled and deposited him near the wall where he had originally been before their conversation began. Petra straightened from her place on the floor and took a step back while doing so, giving him space so it didn’t seem quite so much like she was looming. Besides, she wasn’t sure she comfortable enough to have him that close to her peds just yet, not until she was more familiar with how he moved and could better judge when and where he was going to be.

“I’ll meet you in the Control Room then, Sergeant Walker. With any luck, we’ll be cleared and be on our way. If not though, perhaps you could show me that Origami you were talking about?”

Her tone was cheerful and nonchalant, but held a hint of underlying hopefulness. She really did want to know more; going outside would just be an added bonus. She gave a casual two-fingered salute that touched her bronze brow chevron before turning into a half-wave as her arm dropped back to her side and she turned to leave the Rec Room.

[Nathan Walker]

The ride down was as smooth as the ride up. Nathan hopped off her hand as soon as he was near the floor, before turning to look back up at Petrichor. He gave her a short nod.

“Sure, I’ll plan for both eventualities.”

He gave a soft smile before heading down the hallway, being sure to stay close to the walls as he did so. In his mind, he was already compiling a list of what he figured he would need, but as he did he double checked it against the contents of a bag he kept packed and ready in his office. Since joining Special Forces three years ago, he had a set of bags prepped and ready should he need to leave at a moment's notice. One for his house, one in his truck and one in his office wherever that was. In each was enough supplies and ammo to last for a few days with no support.

For this one though, Nathan wanted a little more firepower than a Glock. In his office was also where he kept his custom HK416 assault rifle, as well as extra magazines. From what he had been reading about MECH, they were highly trained and heavily armed. Most likely they were wearing body armor, which meant his Glock would be pretty useless. But the 5.56mm could cut through most commercially available body armor. Plus, having an assault rifle would give him an edge against the cars which MECH tended to drive, seeing as they most likely were without bulletproof glass.

As he came into his office, he spied his go bag located where he always kept it, right beside the desk. He threw it over his shoulder then headed over to the wall where he kept his HK in its case, as well as a few cans of loaded thirty round magazines. Nathan grabbed four loaded magazines and tossed them into his bag, as well as a bag of beef jerky he had sitting in the desk drawer. He then moved over to his M4 and pulled it out of the case, seeing it was on “safe”, and pulled back the bolt to inspect the chamber before taking the magazine and sliding it in, then slapping the blot release which chambered a round, meaning the weapon was ready to fire should he take it of safety.

Satisfied, he grabbed a blanket from the stack of supplies then began tracing his way back to the control room, making sure to keep the muzzle of the assault rifle pointed up and the stock couched on his hip, finger off the trigger as he ran through the list in his head, making sure he did not forget anything. Satisfied he was not, he continued on his way.

[Optimus Prime]

Petrichor believing Red Alert or Prowl were high strung or uptight in comparison to Optimus right now was... not particularly accurate.

The Prime was perhaps aggressively on edge.

After the latest confrontation with MECH nearly a week prior, and the less than acceptable outcome of that endeavor, the Prime was rather clipped away from others. He did not roam the halls as he had once he decided to make an active decision to try to be a bigger part of his team's dynamic, and he did not set out scouting missions in person. Assignments were issued through data transfers and postings alone, or simply left in the hands of others to contend with while the aftermath tried to settle enough. It was no grandiose surprise however that things had shaken Optimus, as even those who did not know how far back he and Ratchet's friendship went more likely than not knew they had been friends for some time.

It is because of this fact he was not prompt to reply to Petrichor as he may have otherwise in prior days. No return communication, no quick response to make sure things were alright. The ping fell into open air, more likely than not it implying that he was occupied in one way or another and did not intend to interrupt what he had been doing. Perhaps they would need to seek the approval of a different figurehead, Red Alert, Prowl, Avalanche, Jazz... all were likely viable to give such approvals. If it were any other time the duo would probably not even NEED approval for a little jaunt so long as it was within Jasper, though current events had shaken everything off kilter.

As the two would likely make their way into the Control Room eventually, they would see that Optimus was already present working upon the primary hub. He stood squared off with the keypad and screens, shoulders rocked back in their sockets while posture was straight and ridged. The stance was not relaxed in any way, a stiffness that was as if 'muscles' were taunt under frustration. Fingertips were quickly striking down upon the keyboard, Cybertronian glyphs being typed rapid-fire on what was already over a paragraph of data input and verbiage. Other windows were pulled up beside this one, coordinates and some maps of other galactic clusters of populated worlds that were known in space.

At the sound of footfalls, Optimus' attention shifted, looking from the corner of his gaze with a sharp focus, the apertures in his eyes cycled down into a focused and rather intense look.

Petrichor was an individual that Optimus had not met in person yet, however, given reports of her entry into Omega, he knew who she was by frame type and color distribution. Because of this he knew that she was the one who had sent the request ping earlier, and he now figured that it was not something he could brush aside. For her to seemingly seek him out ((even should it not be true and merely an assumption)), the situation must be dire and he should address it. As such, with a hard strike of the keyboard the main dialogue paragraph would clip down and minimize, though the other screens remained visible with jittering and twitching labels and data.

"I assume it is urgent."

Tense monotone words, almost robotic in a way. Optimus knew it was not a good first impression to a newcomer, yet he had basically lost his closest friend and found it difficult to care at the moment. While Ratchet was not dead, that was potentially even worse. He had to endure seeing the other mech the last week, while knowing 'he' wasn’t there. Unable to mourn, unable to find closure. This false sense of hope clawed at the back of his mind, a hope that may be futile since Ratchet had coded the program himself and he was not... inept. If he intended to nuke his processor? it was nuked as far as Optimus figured.

Easing back, the Prime's leg closest Petrichor lifted to then plant at a new angle, his mass turning to face her more direct, helm held high while awaiting her question, request, or report. He did not relax his frame to seem less imposing, not really feeling able to do so as pent up anger and resentment boiled within among a sea of grief.

As of now he wasn’t aware of Nathan entering the area after her, focused down upon the smaller Cybertronian sharp enough that the human was missed.