Sorry! I am sooo sorry! *ducks behind Captain America's shield*In my defense, my education kinda hit me with a flaming two by four, but ya know; life goes on. In apology, I give you a new story that is...pre written! So expect quick updates until my chapter supply runs out. *cringes* Anyway, a great motivater is that little box, under my amatuer text, that tells me how to get better...it's kinda like magic, don't ya think? So anyway, ON WITH THE STORY!

P.S. Warning: Bee's in a S7 lab. It's not pretty.

P.P.S. I don't own Transformers or any variation of it, although I can lay claim to my character Amy Ridiner.


The young blonde briskly walked from her car in the Hoover Dam parking lot, and towards the staff entrance that few knew of. Inside the door she showed her ID and entered a code that changed monthly. Upon gaining entrance, she entered a corridor which hosted more extensive and specific security measures. When she finally passed through security, it was 10:30 am, a complete half hour since leaving her car. Needless to say, she did not take lunch breaks outside of the facility.

Glancing at her watch, she entered the women's locker rooms and grabbed her lab coat, clipboard, laptop, and flash drive. When looking in the mirror provided for employee convince, she recognized a 23 year old women, with brown- highlighted blonde hair, slim build, and striking glacial blue eyes. Approving her elegantly twisting hairstyle and straightening her nametag, upon which read Amy Ridiner, she exited the locker room and proceeded to her office outside the lab.

Although Amy was not a grunt taking readings of the ice sculpture in the first hanger, she was still expected to be available for any possible new arrivals. A hint of unease blossomed in her stomach, but she quickly quelled such notions with the doubt that Sector 7 would ever find any more live extraterrestrials in her career, just as they had been absent in her mentor's. A keen watch from the guard on duty didn't hurt either. She dropped her materials and began work on processing the latest data, losing herself in the flow of numbers and statistics.


There was a reason Amy was as member of S7's scientific research division. Amy had been recruited out of high school with a promise of an online degree, substantial pay, and a shiny badge to boot. It was an uncommonly known fact that she was recruited for high IQ reading and a nearly infinite understanding of physics, chemistry, and biology. A nice catch for a secret division of the government. Not that it earned her any special treatment. In S7, nobody asked questions. Ever. Especially not with Simmons in charge, and especially especially not with his paranoia kicking in. It was just safer to look at her computer screen than her colleagues' faces.

A few hours later, the alarm went off throughout her station, and she froze. Amy had never heard that bell go off except for drills. Lab technicians were required.

Immediately.

Amy's earlier fear and indecision rose in her stomach, only to be furiously stamped down. It was probably just a drill, or a weird test to show loyalty, just another crackpot scheme of Simmons' to weed out potential defectors.

With that vain effort in mind, Amy dutifully went to scrub up and reported to her assigned testing site. As she entered the observation room, she stopped dead. There was a NBE. Restrained to the lab table, Nitrogen in use.

The Observation room was soundproof, unless the communication system was switched on(which it wasn't), and the glass was mirrored, so the alien couldn't possibly know she was there. Maybe that was what was so heartbreaking about its expression. He was in pain,…and he was afraid. Those cobalt blue optics were alive with fear and the poor being was shaking slightly.

Aware that her boss was studying her quietly, she swallowed hard and entered the chamber. The mech sluggishly trained its optics on her moving form as she prepped monitors and scanners. She found herself quite unable to meet them. He's so helpless. She thought, trying to ignore her reeling stomach.

This NBE was so different than the one in the first hanger, red optics, teeth bared in a terrifying snarl, forever entombed in ice. This one was so alive, so innocent, so, so pitiful, if that word could be used to describe a giant metal robot.

It's just a machine. She tried to repeat in her head, as if that could drive her feelings away. She knew the consequences if she disobeyed orders. She did not want to experience them herself. But now she could hear the robot as well, electronic moans and cries from forced cryostasis not completely pushed to unconsciousness, the cold ghosting off his metal skin that made goose bumps rise on her arms.


She sat down at her monitor and gripped the edge of her desk tightly. Amy dared to look up, and faced those pleading, terrified optics. It melted her heart. Her heart was one thing her mentor never addressed before he retired. He never had a situation like this, so probably considered it an unimportant topic. As a member of Sector 7, Amy ignored multiple morals she once kept. But this was too much. When she looked at scheduled scans and tests, it broke her. Electro shock treatment, invasive research, samples taken. This was the problem Amy had with early researchers. In order to study the organisms they wished to learn about, they destroyed them.

Just like what they were doing now. In complete obviousness, Amy was being shown that these aliens were very sentient, and very capable of emotion. Her defense for her studies; that they were unfeeling machines; was stripped away, leaving her perched on the brink, wrestling with moral righteousness and self preservation.

Fortunately for her career, her superior stepped in at that moment, leading the robot's gaze to the entering human.

"Well done Ms. Ridiner, excellent prep work." she said in clipped tones.

Mrs. Engelhard was a heartless woman. That was putting it nicely. She had been lobbying for the capture and dissection of a NBE for years, being denied by the lack of NBE's. She was the supervisor necessary in these demented operations, chosen specifically for absolutely no emotional conflict, with some sadistic tendencies thrown in as well. And now she had a NBE before her.

I have to help him. She thought. "Yes, this specimen is fascinating," Amy replied trying to throw some enthusiasm into her tone, "I believe this is the first NBE that we have found with blue optics, and the general frame design is different as well. Maybe it is a subspecies?" she questioned.

"Perhaps" Engelhard answered indifferently, her eyes gleaming with cold curiosity. Amy tried again, "If so, this specimen could prove invaluable in our research, and would be good comparison to NBE1 in the hangar. We could even store them with the same generators, the equipment is already set up!" she gave a nervous laugh, trying to pass it off as a pretend fear of the giant creatures.

"I seriously doubt that this specimen will be kept for an extended period of time." Mrs. Engelhard replied, eyes narrowing and probing Amy, who quickly turned to face her monitor, which energy detectors picked up increased pulse of energy from the mech. She bit her bottom lip, knowing that their conversation had only succeeded at scaring the robot further. Mrs. Engelhard was distracted from Amy as the rest of the crew walked in, excited whisperings filling the chamber.