"The stars that are noticed first are often false, satellites sent into the sky by mankind."

★☆★☆★☆★☆★

When Toby said that the whole ordeal was going to involve a lot of paperwork, she hadn't been expecting the amount that had accumulated on her desk through the week. And she was expecting a lot.

The week had passed relatively quickly, though likely due to the fact that the young woman never once stepped outside, it was a relief to both the medic and ex-mechanic. There had been countless meetings and a list of people a mile long who wanted to shout at them. Very few were willing to allow the pair to go through with, or even plan the procedure, but Robert Epps and William Lennox stood beside them through every step. Of course, their opinions changed slightly when Toby started speaking to Figs in Spanish.

"¿Tienes más papeleo para firmar o leer?" The young woman tiredly looks up at the soldier, head in her hand and food untouched.

"Doc bot te necesita," he smiles, patting her on the shoulder before sitting down with his tray of food.

The others in the group, members of Lennox's team in Qatar, groan dramatically at the use of the language. Robert especially shoots his niece a glare.

"Do you have any idea how long we've been trying to make him stop speaking spanish?" The sergeant demands, pressing his agitation with a pointed finger.

"¿Más largo de lo que puedo imaginar?" She smirks as he facepalms, and rubs her eyes to rid them of exhaustion before turning to the bilingual soldier. "Did he say when?"

He shrugs, ignoring the relieved sighs of his teammates. "Right away, I guess."

"M'kay," she glances at Robert as he devours his burrito like an animal. "Can I borrow your radio, uncle?"

Seeing that he's unable to respond, Lennox takes the radio off his friend's belt and hands it to the woman with a smirk, earning a glare from him.

"Thanks. Also, uncle, aunt Monique would be disturbed by your table manners," she grins, taking her time to adjust the channel on the plastic device.

With the final adjustments made, she lifts it to her mouth. "Hey, Piston."

"~Don't call me that~" the men at the table laugh at his reply, making Toby roll her eyes.

"Sure thing, Piston. I've been told that you need me?"

"~Yes~"

"Right, well, what kind of thing is it? Because if it's a meeting, I'll smarten up, but if it's just more documents I won't bother."

"~Just come to the med bay~"

"Oookay," she says slowly, brows furrowed in confusion. "I'll see you in five."

The woman hums as the connection crackles out, quickly returning it to her uncle before abandoning her dinner. Lennox sends her an encouraging smile, while Robert just continues to stuff his face.

"Could one of you boys take my tray when you're done?" Figs sends her a thumbs up, just beginning to eat his bowl of gumbo. "Oh, and uncle," the sergeant glances at her briefly, "gators do have the most succulent meat."

The table erupts in groans and choked fits of laughter, and the ex-mechanic carefully turns away, using a small joystick to direct both wheels. NEST soldiers and workers alike all clear a path for her as she exits the mess hall, most sending her unreadable looks.

Rounding a corner into the hallway, Toby forces herself to stop on a dime, nearly running into the back of a young man with soaking wet hair. He takes no notice of her, fiddling with something in his hands.

The woman coughs subtly, causing him to whip around to face her. His eyes go wide in surprise and his cheeks quickly redden in embarrassment as he realises what he was doing. A multicoloured cube rests in his hands, which he hastily attempts to stuff in his pocket.

"Having fun are we, Evans?" She drawls cheekily.

"Toby! I-uh," he rubs the back of his neck sheepishly.

"Don't panic, I'm just teasing," Toby waves her hand dismissively. "Anyways, I'm off to the med bay to sort out whatever Ratchet needs me to deal with. Have fun solving your Rubix!"

She avoids her friend, going around him to continue on her way, not failing to catch the happy grin on his face. A crease forms between her eyebrows in her puzzlement, suspicious about his sudden change in expression. Nevertheless, she makes her way down the gigantuan halls towards the smaller hangar that has been fitted as a med bay for the Autobots and completely reorganised by Ratchet, twice.

When she enters the room, she's surprised to find the medic welding something together, occasionally glancing at the giant computer screen beside him. Usually he's grumbling over one of the 'bots, typically Ironhide, or completely glued to his computers. That being said, there was one time when she had to practically dive out of her wheelchair to avoid a flying wrench. It's safe to say that Bumblebee will never tease the medic to quite that extent again.

Toby cautiously knocks her knuckles on the wall, making him look up from his work. It's hard to miss the freakishly cheerful atmosphere around the mech, and it makes the woman shift uncomfortably.

"So, do you have anything for me?" She asks carefully.

"Yes, I have news," the woman visibly stiffens, every emotion imaginable conflicting in her mind. "It's been cleared."

She's pretty sure she stopped breathing, and she almost cries in relief and happiness. Toby slumps back in her wheelchair and laughs, cheering at the achievement. No words can possibly express how she feels. Nothing comes close to this.

"Would you like to see?" Her guardian asks with a small smile on his derma, amusement filling him as she frantically nods her head, unable to form words.

Ratchet carefully scoops her up, gently setting her between his shoulder plate and chassis. As he returns to his project, he notes how her hand trembles on his armour, a clear sign of her joy. With pride, he displays the lump of welded metal to the woman, watching in amusement as her eyes widen at the sight.

"Is that—?" The medic nods in answer to her stunned question.

"It's to be your stabiliser," he explains while she studies it profusely.

"I'll help you where I can," she pips, the smile having yet to leave her face.

"I can do most of it, Toby," Ratchet assures.

She shakes her head with a chuckle. "Just because you can make yourself our size, doesn't mean you won't need the extra aid."

"Maybe so, but I'd rather know that there are no mistakes."

At this, the woman huffs, bottom lip stuck out in a pout. She scowls at the medic, the mech completely unaware that he just insulted the young inventor.

"Thanks."

Catching the thick sarcasm in her word, Ratchet glances at her, flinching at the harsh glare. He vents, pinching his olfactory sensor with two digits, a habit he picked up from the young woman.

"You may help," the scowl disappears immediately, "but I will be building both it and your servo."

"That's better than nothing," she admits, shrugging nonchalantly.

Several hours pass without interruption, the only words said between the pair being suggestions and calculation corrections, mainly given by Toby. Ratchet stays almost silent, thinking deeply about the woman's place with the Autobots.

"Toby," she looks up from the schematics in her hand with a smile, "how would you like to become my trainee?"

If possible, her expression brightens even more, her small smile becoming a wide grin.

"Yes!" She squeals, bouncing in excitement before clearing her throat. "I would be honoured to study by your side, my friend."

Ratchet smiles. "Shall we begin, then?"

★☆★☆★☆★☆★

With a soft groan, Toby opens her eyes to the world of swirling colours. Everything feels numb, that she can be sure of. Especially after spending roughly twelve hours conscious through the most bizarre procedure she had ever been apart of.

A white light shines in front of her eyes, and in curiosity, she watches it bounce back and forth.

"That's it, follow the light," a deep, yet familiar, voice grumbles, though the words send the young woman into a bit of a panic.

"What?!" She jolts up, accidentally smashing her head into the other's. With another groan, she settles back down on what she presumes is a bed, rubbing her forehead with a hand.

"At least you're awake now," the small mech grunts, rubbing his own helm in pain.

"I'm sorry, Piston, but your choice of words weren't the best," Toby chuckles, gingerly scratching the back of her neck.

"Don't call me that."

"So what, Piston?" She childishly sticks her tongue out at her elder, observing his tiny frame as he shuffles around the sterilised room. Sure, she had known about his 'ability' to displace his own mass, in fact, she was the only human he had told. Not that she had been surprised, he really did not like humans save for herself.

"It's annoying and not my designation," he marches back over to her side with a sort of scanner in his servo, sitting down on an unoccupied section of the bed. Almost as though he's attempting to pester her, he roughly checks her pulse from her left wrist and forces her to open her mouth as he tries to spot any symptoms.

Irritated, Toby swats him away, only to freeze mid-swipe. Her hand. Correction: her servo. Good flipping Primus. It's her servo. Where there once was nothing but empty air, a gunmetal grey arm—wrist, servo, digits and all—hangs, it's armoured plating jagged and slightly too large for the soft protoform underneath. When the woman moves her digits, she can see the cables and pistons shifting to complete the action. It's beautiful.

Seeing her dumbfounded expression, the neon medic gives a rare grin, grasping her servo with his own before giving it a light squeeze. She gasps, not expecting to feel the action. Ratchet vents softly, shaking his helm as he continues his check up, not letting go of the woman's servo.

The digits of his free servo gently graze her new appendage, slowly trailing them up to the scarred flesh of her biological arm, scanning the raw muscle before wrapping it in bandages. Toby watches him work with wide eyes, not entirely sure if she's registered the events properly yet.

Having completed his check of her upper half, he looks into her eyes with a questioning gaze, his unspoken query already answered with a small nod. Ratchet carefully peels the white sheets away, smirking at the woman's increased heart rate as she sees her legs for the first time.

Similar to the Autobots', her stabiliser consists of many interlocking parts, though much of her armour slides over smaller and thinner plates due to the need to make it look more like it's biological counterpart. Her pede, however, resembles more of a toy robot's foot, as both Toby and Ratchet had difficulty creating it to allow her balance and mobility while also being able to fit in a human shoe.

Tears prick the woman's eyes as she wiggles her 'toes', being able to feel them move becoming too much for her to handle. A small sob of happiness is muffled by the hand covering her mouth, swiftly removed by the medic as he assesses her mental state. She gives him a watery grin, tears rolling down her cheeks.

"Thank you, Ratchet," she says with a hoarse whisper. "Thank you."

Just as the mech thinks he's about to get away, she latches onto him, wrapping her arms around his neck cables. Unsure as to how he is meant to respond, he remains frozen while the young woman nuzzles comfortably beneath his chin.

"It's called a hug," her voice is muffled by his armour, though he can still hear her chuckle. "You're meant to do it back."

Hesitantly, the old mech places his arms around her torso, being careful to hinder his strength. They stay that way for a minute or so, the situation growing slightly less awkward for Ratchet as the woman snuggles into his chassis.

A thunderous 'bang' startles the two apart, the sound echoing through the halls of the NEST base. As if he had suddenly remembered something, the medic clears his vocal pipes, pulling back from the hug.

"Do you feel any pain?"

Toby shakes her head. "Other than being sore, no."

Ratchet gently takes her servo and pricks one of her digits with something in his own. Gaining no reaction, he raises an optical brow.

"Did that not hurt?" He questions, unsure.

Again, Toby shakes her head. "I only felt the pressure."

The medic hums thoughtfully, making a mental note. "I believe that we may have miscalculated something. Keep an optic on it."

She nods, but grins widely when Ratchet hands her a set of clothes, even though it's only the basics. Taking them from his servo, she twirls a finger, making roll his optics as he turns his back.

"If you need help, ask," he demands, hearing several thumps alongside rustling fabric. Another thump sounds, followed immediately by a quiet curse, though he does not turn round, respecting his patient's request.

A short pause and moment's worth of groaning, the young woman asks for help. With her cheeks bright red, she avoids the medic's optics, freezing slightly as the metal of his softly traces the issue to its source. He carefully helps her pull her new appendage through the arm of her oversized t-shirt, making sure it doesn't catch on the fabric.

With the problem solved, Toby huffs quietly in embarrassment before taking the offered arm of her guardian for balance. The medic doesn't say a word, allowing his charge to put her weight on him as he guides her out of the human medical bay.

They walk in silence, though Toby pouts at the height difference between the two, having been used to being the tallest, it's a bit unsettling for someone to be two whole heads taller than her. Occasionally, a loud noise or shout makes the limping woman jump, only to be reassured that everything is alright by the mech.

In sudden brightness, they enter the main hangar, finding Ironhide firing small projectiles at targets with a smiling Evans at his pedes and Optimus conversing with Lennox. The captain responds to the Autobot's conversation in a quiet tone, gently trying to calm a pacing Robert Epps.

The young woman smiles weakly, her energy drained from the walk, and raises two fingers to her lips. A shrill whistle pierces the heavy air of the hangar, making all occupants to turn their heads to the cause.

With the sudden attention, Toby shoves herself away from her guardian—much to his protest—and starts to hobble towards the small group. Her smile broadens into a grin as her uncle rushes across the concrete floor, followed by a much more calm group of friends.

The African-American man sweeps her off her feet, the woman crying out in surprise as he lifts her into the air. She laughs loudly, the older man placing her on the ground before hugging her tightly.

"Uncle—can't-breathe," she gasps, patting him in yield.

"Sorry," he apologises, beaming at her. "You can walk!"

"Yeah, and I'm Mary Poppins too!" She teases, shoving him slightly with her servo. "Of course I can walk! That was one point of the procedure!"

"It is good to see you happy, Toby," the woman grins at Optimus, but turns once hearing the sound of shifting metal.

The medic nods at her in acknowledgement, now standing at his proper height again. Before anything more can be said, he delicately scoops her up, mindful of her recovering body.

"Y'all better prepare yourselves," Toby grins cheekily at the two Autobots, glancing at the humans on the ground, "'cause I'm gonna to be the scariest medic you've ever seen!"

Ironhide grunts humorously, shaking his helm. "I'm afraid Hatchet already has that title."

Robert gives him a wide eyed look, shuffling backwards slightly. "You've just doomed yourself then. There ain't nothing that'll stop her now, not since she has a name to claim."

The weapons specialist appears to be about to disagree, but stops with his intake wide open upon spotting the glint in the inventor's eye.

"Don't challenge her."

"Too late," Toby cackles, already plotting. She cracks her neck, formulating plans and schematics, making mental notes on what might need upgrading.

A low hum interrupts her thought process, causing her to look at Ratchet. "Not yet, there's still a lot of training for you to complete."

She shakes her head, correcting herself. "Well, I can make stuff now, so I'll focus on that and my studies."

"Thank the heavens," she hears her uncle mutter, chuckling at his relief.

"Don't worry, I'm sure there are more than enough duties to keep me from achieving that goal for quite some time," the woman smirks, turning her head. "Right, Optimus?"

The Autobot leader nods slowly, nearly smiling as he watches the remade woman salute to him.

As she makes her formal gesture, Toby observes those around her, smiling at all she has gained despite her losses. Friends. Comrades. Family. And she's perfectly happy with that.

★☆★☆★☆★☆★

One more part to go!

So, it's been brought to my attention that some of you are waiting for romance in this book. 

Well, I'm sorry to say, but, that ain't happening. At least for Toby. 

Sorry.

Drag0nRider out!