Mikaela stands on a crowded street at the center of a large city. She is surrounded by soldiers, ten or twenty of them, and more continue to arrive, patrolling the area in tanks. The fighter jets flying overhead combined with the shouting on the ground create a deafening discord
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Her head whips around when she hears her name. She recognizes that voice but she shouldn't be hearing it. "Veronica?"
She glances back at Sam, who assures her with a nod that he'll take care of the Autobot. She backs away slowly and with some degree of uncertainty, then turns and jogs over to Veronica. "Are you okay?"
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Mikaela brings her out of that stupor a little, and she blinks for a second before seeming to come into herself, back to the quippy girl that most people have learned to see her as. "Me? My feet hurt. No sweat. I do this everyday. What about you?" She tries to make as little of a show as she can about checking the other girl over. Her first aid isn't life saving, but she knows how to stop bleeding, bandage some things, and not throw up in the face of blood.
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"I-" She actually does do this every day. For the past week, at least. She's spent the last few days sleepless and hungry and on the run from the Deceptacons and Sector 7's lackies. The realization restores her motivation. She indicates the tow truck to Veronica and asks, "Do you think you can make it over there?"
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"If I got Veronica one of those, I'd definitely win the Father of the Year Award," he said to no one in particular.
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"I noticed!" he shouted. "What are YOU doing here?"
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