It happened in seconds. In seconds, one of their own perished in the flaming inferno. Shockwaves rocked the area. The rest left standing in the wake of the tragedy could not believe the offender was within their own ranks. If they had only known of his xenophobia, perhaps it could have been prevented, he could have been transferred to another base.

"They�ll be the end of us! End of us!" he yelled while forcibly escorted away by the military police.

Though, maybe it was meant to be�

"They�re right behind us," Ingrid signaled to Twyla as they crawled through the underbrush and trees. Twyla counted down from three before signal back, "Attack!"

Several paintballs pummeled their good friend Mac in the chest before he held his hands up in surrender. Loretta, another paint-covered friend, ran up behind him. "Man, you girls are vicious," he commented playfully.

The four of them shared in a cheerful laugh. They were all covered with dime-sized bruises and paint. Finished with paintball for the day, the four teenagers started back to Mac and Ingrid�s house when a deep bass rumble traveled through the ground.

"What was that?" Loretta asked as they looked up and around for the source.

"Don�t know," replied Mac, curious and confused.

Without any warning, what appeared as golden lighting shot past them and knocked Twyla unconscious. Seconds passed as the group looked at Twyla, unsure of what happened or what to do next. They kneeled closer to their fallen friend.

"Well, she�s not dead," Ingrid declared as she checked Twyla�s pulse. Mac and Loretta shot her strange looks. "What?"

Loretta slapped Twyla�s face lightly in attempts to revive her. "Help us carry her back to the house," Mac ordered in a less than pleased tone, still irritated by his sister�s remark.

The strong scent of the cinnamon in the Samson�s entryway aroused Twyla ever so slightly. Dropped less than gently onto the couch, the impact knocked her awake, but dazed. Ingrid and Loretta hovered over her while Mac informed his mother of what happened.

"Are you okay?" Loretta asked.

"Hungry?"

Twyla�s stomach responded to Ingrid�s question, much to Twyla�s embarrassment. The senior girl sat in the space vacated by Twyla�s legs. "What happened out there?"

"�I don�t know, really. I think there was some sort of strange light�after that strange rumble. Gold light," Twyla recalled. "But I feel really hungry, how can that be?" She covered her face with her hands.

"Don�t worry too much, it happens to us sometimes," Loretta comforted.

"That light was weird though."

"Yeah."

Mac, Ingrid and their mother entered the living room. "I hear someone�s not feeling well," their mother chimed and handed Twyla a glass of milk, "this should help."

"Thank you very much," Twyla replied.

"You probably just got worn out from paintball; don�t push yourself so hard," Mac suggested.

"Okay," she nodded and continued to drink the milk. "Thank you again."

"That�s quite all right, honey," Mac�s mother said. "You�re welcome to stay the rest of the afternoon until you�re feeling better."

"Okay, thank you."

"Not a problem," with that, she left the four teenagers to themselves.

After some time in thought while Twyla finished her milk and had set the glass in the sink, Mac suggested, "We could go watch G1, if you ladies want to." The three girls agreed.

"Here�s a hint," Galvatron stated from the television. The group of teens cringed and whooped as Starscream turned to ash.

"Classic," Mac grinned.

"That never gets old," Twyla agreed.

"Hey kids, how are things?" came a voice from the doorway of Mac�s room.

"Daddy!" Ingrid jumped up to give her father a hug. General Samson worked for the Air Force at the nearby military base. Doing what, none of them had the slightest clue.

"Hi," greeted Loretta.

"Hello, Loretta. Twyla, I have something to tell you," Samson started; Ingrid sat back down.

"Yes?"

"You know I can�t go into great detail, so don�t ask, but I will tell you this," he started. "Later, go back to your house and gather your school bags, books, and clothes for a few nights; you�re welcome to stay here for awhile."

Twyla and the others stared at him; something much bigger that he could not reveal was going on. "Uh�okay."

The general smiled weakly and left. "That was random," Loretta stated.

"I think something must have happened to your father, Twyla," thought Mac with minimal care. "I guess mom and dad don�t want you alone and wondering."

"Yeah," she agreed, "but it might be serious."

Twyla�s father was also a general who commanded alongside General Samson. General Morgan, unlike Samson, was not well liked by the four teenagers. While Morgan was not a bad person, he hated Transformers; the group�s most common interest. It was why what few transformer figures Twyla had stand safely among Mac and Ingrid�s.

"We can have group study sessions!" Ingrid suggested.

"Dinner�s ready!" Mac�s mother called out.

Loretta stood up, "I�m sure my mom�s waiting for me," she said, "Bye guys!"

The group helped gather her things and saw her to the door, "Bye, Loretta!"

"We�ll all go with you to get your things after dinner, okay?" Mac offered.

"Okay, thanks for letting me stay."

General Samson found Optimus Prime staring out at the sky the following day. If Optimus was aware of the general standing next to him, he did not show it.

"I am eternally sorry for your loss, Jetfire was a fine Autobot and soldier," the words came heavily from the general. "We are gathering the pieces for the memorial service."

Optimus turned to him, "There is no need."

"What?"

"Jetfire is not dead," Optimus explained. "I was alerted when the scans for life signs turned up nothing, and I could not find him within the Matrix.

"When a transformer is fatally wounded and cannot be saved, his spark becomes one with the Matrix. But on rare occasions and when the individual is strong, this does not happen, and the spark of the transformer is often found within another. It is then up to the individual spark and the host whether the spark stays, or is moved to another body."

"So does this mean that Jetfire is out there somewhere?" Samson asked.

"It is possible."

The general paused for a minute, "If I get what you�re saying, Jetfire�s spark is probably within someone now, maybe another human perhaps?"

"If anything, that person is not on this base, or the Matrix would have confirmed their location. In these cases, the spark usually does not stray too far from the scene. He may be somewhere within the city."

"I would authorize a search team, but that order is ultimately up to you, since he his one of your men. Perhaps this would be an opportunity to go ahead with Operation Fa�ade."

"Not a bad idea."

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