Gears and Pistons | | Bayverse | | Book 1

Chapter 10 | | So Much More | |

"The birth of a star will often go unseen for years."

★☆★☆★☆★☆★

The woman fiddles nervously with the jewelry around her neck. It's not much more than a ring on a piece of string, but it means the world to her. The ring itself is very dense, the metal crafted expertly into the gorgeous ornament that hangs at the ex-mechanic's neck.

Toby is anxious. Not only that, but she is afraid as well. She's aware that the Autobots were excited to know that she would be coming to the base, and she's aware that she has permission to be at the new NEST base, but it doesn't stop her nerves. The Autobots haven't seen her since the day of her surgery—nearly two months prior to this moment—and don't know how she's been. In summary, she's worried that she'll be judged for her new disability and scared that she won't be accepted properly.

"You good back there, kiddo?" Her uncle asks her, turning in his seat to look at the woman.

"Yeah," her voice cracks as she numbly stares out the window.

Below them, the ocean ripples and sways, its power and might left forgotten in the mid afternoon heat. Small wisps of cloud part for the military plane that Toby had—out of boredom—learnt was called a Boeing C-17 Globemaster iii. Occasionally, a bird comes into view, only to disappear again a moment later.

The woman sighs to herself, now playing with the bandanna she had tied around her neck earlier in the day. She wears an army green sleeveless top that her uncle allowed her to borrow and a pair of denim shorts that only just cover her bandaged stump. Her wheelchair is strapped down against the wall of the plane, between two seats occupied by unfamiliar NEST soldiers that send her odd looks every now and then.

"Take a picture, boys, it'll last longer," Toby snaps, growing tired of the judging stares of the soldiers. Robert chuckles as the young men turn their heads away in a flash.

"Careful, Tobbes, you don't want them fearing you just yet," he laughs, adjusting a bag at his feet.

"Mmm," the woman hums as she 'thinks', shaking her head quickly, "no, I do. 'Cause they shouldn't underestimate the one in a wheelchair," she says the last bit a little louder than necessary for the men to hear her.

She returns her gaze to look out the window, mentally noting the lightening shade of blue in the ocean.

"We are about to make our descent to Diego Garcia. Please remain seated during this time," the captain's voice notifies the men onboard, also causing the young woman to stiffen.

Her grip on the arm of her chair tightens, her knuckles turning white as she gulps. Flying has never been her thing. Sure, she can handle it once up in the air, but taking off and landing? Nope.

"Hey," her uncle soothes from his place a few seats over, giving Toby something to focus on, "it's alright. We're just landing, nothing's gonna happen. Just breathe and stay calm."

One of the young men, likely a new recruit, looks over at the woman in sympathy, but not for her disability. "Nervous flier?"

She nods stiffly, face paling as the plane drops slightly in the air.

"Well," Toby opens an eye at the man's shaky tone, "you're not the only one."

To her left, she sees the soldier, skin pale and shining with sweat. His chestnut hair sticks up at odd angles, looking like he often runs his hands through it, and his eyes remain tightly shut. She would have laughed had she not been feeling the same way.

"The name's Will, Will Evans," he says breathily, still refusing to open his eyes. "I'm working as an engineer and programmer. What about you?"

"Toby Hills," the woman bites her tongue to keep herself from letting out a small scream as the plane drops again. "No occupation as of yet, though I hope to train to be their medic. Currently an inventor in my own time."