Finding Home

Chapter 1

By Voodoo Queen

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Author's Note: Hello, Dear Readers! This is a story that has been kicking around my head for a while so I thought I'd go ahead and try to get it written down. FYI...this story tentatively takes place immediately following the very first movie and will have varied elements of other Transformers continuities scattered in there. All of our favorite bots are very much alive and well (for the most part), as it should be. It's also going to feature bots who are either not in the movies or who make an appearance in later movies so if you're a stickler for movie canon, I'm sorry. Ha! At any rate, this will probably end up revolving around Jazz and a certain pair of twins (ya'll know who I'm talking about). I don't want to give too much away but most likely will end up SSxOCxSS depending on how I feel as I write it. Rated T for language but that could change, again, depending on how I feel, lol. As always, please read and review if you're so inclined. I read everything you guys send me and I really do listen to your critiques and suggestions. Much love!

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers, just my own original characters and plot.

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Operations Specialist 2nd Class Amy Doe checked and rechecked the data she'd received to ensure absolute accuracy as she updated the strategic and tactical displays within her ship's Combat Information Center. OS2 Doe truly enjoyed working in the CIC. It was the nerve center of all ship operations and gave her a feeling of purpose that she'd scarcely, if ever, felt anywhere else. She was good at her job, one of the best, but she certainly wasn't one to brag. It was just a matter of hard work and determination and she'd had to work harder than most.

She'd enlisted in the United States Navy the very same day she'd graduated from high school. While others had headed off stage to celebratory fanfare, she'd gone straight to the closest bus stop that would route her to the nearest recruiting station. She'd seen no reason to wait around or waste any time. There weren't any loving parents or excited family members waiting in the audience to snap her photo and tell her how proud they were of her. There was no graduation party to go to. No recognition of her achievements and hard work. There was only her, alone in the world and nowhere to go after graduating school and aging out of a horribly abusive foster care system.

Things will get better, she'd told herself. It was a phrase that she'd often heard from social workers, school guidance counselors, and her court appointed guardian ad litem. Mostly it was meaningless babble meant to soothe her pain after yet another disappointing or hurtful experience. After joining the navy, however, things had actually gotten somewhat better. She had a job she truly excelled at. She'd never been very good at making friends but she liked her fellow crewman and they, too, seemed to like her...at least enough not to say nasty things to her face which was a huge improvement over her school years. The officers and higher ranking enlisted personnel above her in the chain of command were fond of her. At twenty years of age, she'd managed not only to make the rank of Second Class Petty Officer but had also earned her Surface and Air Warfare certifications. All things considered, she thought she'd turned out all right.

"Hey, Doe!"

She looked up from her terminal, her fingers still hovering over her keyboard. "Yes?"

The sailor hooked a thumb over his shoulder, "Chief says you need to head up to the CMC's office ASAP."

"The CMC?" A puzzled look flashed across her delicate features. Her green eyes blinked owlishly at her screen as she wondered what the Command Master Chief could possibly want with her. She nodded and securely locked her terminal. Tucking a stray piece of blond hair that had worked its way out of her bun behind her ear, she rose from her seat. "Tell Chief I'm heading up now."

As she expertly navigated the maze of p-ways and ladder wells on her way to the CMC's office, Amy Doe racked her brain trying to figure out the reason she'd been summoned. Being called before Command Master Chief Iverson was either a really good thing or a really bad thing. She couldn't recall engaging in any activities in either extreme. Sooner than she realized, she was standing before his office suite. Swallowing the lump of nervousness that had formed in her throat, she pulled opened the water tight door and stepped through, dogging it securely shut behind her, and approached the yeoman's desk.

"Excuse me," she interrupted the sailor sitting on the other side of the partition. He looked up from his computer screen and she could see the name 'Espinoza' embroidered on his name tag. "My Chief sent me down here. She said the CMC wanted to see me?"

"OS2 Doe?" he asked and smiled when she nodded. Swiveling in his chair, he pulled a thick manilla envelope out of a filing cabinet and passed it over the desk to her. "Here, this is for you. You can head on back. They're waiting for you."

"They?" She looked at the man questioningly but he just shrugged before turning back to the work he'd been doing. Muttering a thanks, she moved off in the direction he had indicated and found herself standing in front of a gray steel door with the CMC's name upon it, engraved in a brass plaque. Taking a deep breath, she blew it out slowly, then gave three solid raps to announce her presence. Hearing the command to 'enter', she gave herself a quick once over, ensuring that her uniform was squared away properly before pushing her way inside.

OS2 Doe surveyed the room with slight apprehension. CMC Iverson, an older man with dark hair graying at the temples, rose from his seat behind his desk. Also rising from their seats were the ship's Commanding Officer, Captain Kenneth Davis and an unknown dark-skinned man dressed in an Air Force uniform. She momentarily froze, taking in the scene before her, before her military bearing managed to kick in. Her body moved to a position of attention, her hand flying up in a crisp salute in acknowledgement of her CO before her brain finally kicked back into gear.

"Sir," she acknowledged respectfully.

"At ease, Petty Officer Doe," Captain Davis returned her salute. "Please," he motioned to the only empty chair in the space. "Have a seat."

"Thank you, Sir." She settled stiffly into the offered seat.

"I'm sure you're wondering why you're here." It was CMC Iverson speaking. "This must seem a little strange."

OS2 Doe nodded nervously. In her experience, meetings like this never ended on a positive note. They always meant something had gone wrong, that her anchor to the world was being ripped out of the ground once again...a new foster home, a new school, a new counselor to tell her that things will get better. The old familiar desperation to hang on to what little she had in her life, to somehow fix whatever was broken and try to salvage what she could welled up from the depths of her being. Her wide eyes flitted between the three men. "If I've done something wrong..."

"Relax," the man in the Air Force Uniform shot her a friendly smile. "You haven't done anything wrong. In fact, you're doing everything very right. That's why I'm here."

Doe looked around the room in confusion. "I don't understand."

"Petty Officer Doe," Captain Davis started, "This gentleman is Chief Master Sergeant Robert Epps. Are you at all familiar with N.E.S.T.?"

OS2 Doe shook her head, "Not especially, Sir, no."

"We're sort of a super-classified special response team," CMSgt Epps added helpfully.

"Oh," Doe nodded, unsure of what any of this had to do with her. "I see."

"How long have you been on my ship, OS2?"

Her head snapped back over to look at her CO. "About two years, Sir."

"Two years," the man looked thoughtful for a moment. "In that time you've managed to climb quickly though the enlisted ranks, you've gotten your warfare certifications, and managed to keep an exemplary service record. You also received excellent marks in A School and all of your subsequent evaluations have been perfect 4.0s with recommendations of 'Early Promote'. You should be proud of yourself."

"Thank you, Sir," she muttered awkwardly. She was unused to being praised or complimented. It just wasn't something she experienced very often, if ever. "I try."

"I'd say you more than try." CMC Iverson cracked open a folder than lay in front of him and began to skim through and read. "Petty Officer Doe is an outstanding sailor. Always willing to put in extra time and effort to ensure combat and tactical readiness. She holds true to the navy core values of honor, courage, and commitment. An asset to the team." He turned the page and continued, "OS2 Doe approaches new and challenging situations with an open mind and with an eagerness and willingness to adapt and learn new things." He closed the folder. "Those are just some of the things your shipmates and supervisors have had to say about you."

"That last one is my favorite," CMSgt Epps remarked with a cheeky grin.

"That's...very kind of them to say," Doe felt her face burn with embarrassment. "But I still don't understand why I'm here."

Epps looked to the other two men in the room for permission to proceed. Getting a nod from both, he began to speak. "To be perfectly honest with you, Petty Officer Doe, I've been given the illustrious task of helping to recruit personnel for N.E.S.T.'s new Operational Headquarters. The work is highly classified and the guy in charge of the CIC over there has extremely high standards and a very particular set of qualifications and skills that he's looking for. We've been pouring over submitted personnel files and peer recommendations when your's happened to come across our desks."

"Mine?" Confusion clouded her face. "How?"

Epps merely shrugged. "Someone of pretty substantial standing must have thought you were up to the task and put your name out there. I'd definitely take it as a compliment in the long run if I were you. At any rate," he continued, "We were impressed enough by what we saw for me to fly all the way out here to the middle of the ocean to offer you the position. Captain Davis and CMC Iverson agree that you'd be a good fit."

"Me?" She blinked, still not quite understanding what was happening but feeling a cold, hard lump of rejection begin to fester in her gut she'd felt all too often as a child.

"This is a once in a lifetime opportunity, Petty Officer Doe," CMC Iverson remarked kindly. "You should think of it as a promotion of sorts."

"A promotion," She looked frantically between the men. "Wait, does that mean..."

"Your transfer is effective immediately," Captain Davis chimed in. "You'll be accompanying CMSgt Epps back to N.E.S.T. when he leaves tomorrow morning. Personnel has already pushed through all of your paperwork so you're all squared away on that front." He nodded toward the envelope she clutched in her hands. "Everything you'll need is in there. Consider yourself relieved of duty and take the rest of this evening to gather your personal items."

"We're scheduled to be on the first plane out in the morning at 0600 hours," Epps added. "I'd like you to meet me up on deck fifteen minutes prior. We'll discuss some of the details on the way."

"Any questions?"

Petty Officer Doe's mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water. It was completely unprofessional but she couldn't help it. Inside her head, her brain screamed. Yes! Yes, she had questions! Why? Why didn't they want her any more? Why were they so eager to ship her off to somewhere else before her EAOS was even halfway passed? Had she not done enough, worked hard enough? Sure, they'd said nice things about her but that was how these scenarios often went. It isn't you...it's us. It's not a good fit. The timing isn't right. The conditions have changed. Things will get better...

"OS2?"

"Uh," she snapped out of her dark thoughts. "N-no, Sir. No questions."

"Very well," Captain Davis stood, prompting the woman to do the same. "You are dismissed."

"Thank you, Sir." She saluted and waited for it to be returned before quickly exiting the room and closing the door behind her, shutting the three men inside to continue their conversation. She stood there, trembling, as her mind raced to comprehend what had just happened. A cold numbness settled over her body. She wasn't going to cry. No, she was not. She wouldn't. She couldn't. She refused to cry. That never accomplished anything, at least, nothing good anyway.

"How'd it go?" The yeoman, Espinoza, had looked up from his computer screen and was now eyeing her curiously.

"It-it went well." She forced a smile and made her way woodenly to the water tight door and wrenched up the handle. All she wanted to do was escape back to the familiarity of the female crew berthing, at least until she was forced to leave in the morning. She had to pack her sea bag, she reminded herself. She should have been used to packing up all her worldly belongings on short notice by now but it still stung to think about it. She wasn't going to cry. Things will get better. She swallowed the lump that has lodged itself in her throat. She grit out a quick, "thank you" before bolting through the door, leaving the yeoman to stare after her with a rather confused expression. She hadn't bothered to dog down the door.

End of Chapter 1