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Wheeljack’s Lab

Sleep mode. Yeah, sleep to recharge only to start back up and blow us all to smithereens. Internal monologue…some people just couldn’t do it, thankfully Axle was more than capable.

“Heh, yeah. Sorry, I guess I’m just prone to overreacting too…at times.”

Still slightly apprehensive but willing to finally move the medic stepped out from behind the chair and worked his way back to his own work station where he began his analysis of the replicated narcotic. Carefully he took a small amount of fluid and placed it on an examination slide securing it with a cover slip.

Axle then held the glass up and took a close look with his optics magnified to its maximum capacity in order to ensure that there were no contaminants included in the sample. Satisfied that everything seemed to be on the up and up Axle placed the slide under the scope and let out a low sigh. After a moment of quiet contemplation Axle set his optics against the eye pieces and studied the images. He remained in silence while taking in everything he was looking at and then pulled away.

He wouldn’t know for sure if the replicated drug contained all of the required elements until he actually placed the sample in the electron microscope’s diagnostic computer. Which is just what Axle did. A few manipulations of the key pad and the device began to scan over the sample breaking each element down.

A low beep indicated that the scanning was completed, and just in time. Wheeljack had just questioned the medic about his findings. Although he had the information in front of him, Axle still took sever moments to give the engineer an answer.

“The good news is I think your replicator did an admirable job…the bad news, it failed to replicate three elements.”

Axle looked over to Wheeljack… a somber expression plastered on the field medic’s face. He took a quick look at the vial that he set down on the work bench. Axle then turned his attention back to the scientist.

“Maybe that burnt out circuit board had something to do with your device not replicating the last three elements. Call me crazy, but I say we rescan the vial, cross our actuators and hope your replicator gets it right.”
____

Tracer’s retreat was stopped when Smokescreen took hold of her upper arm. It had the desired effect causing the femme to turn around and face the rallybot. In her haste she forgot that she was already on the downside of her last fix…the Syk was wearing off but it was leaving behind its symptoms in the form of burning optic receptacles and a failing vocalizer. She had also begun to feel the onset of withdrawal. It was inevitable after all…the shaking, the pain, the confusion…but it was the desperation to stop the suffering that scared Tracer the most. For now, however, she would simply have to wait until Wheeljack and Axle were done with their work. And as far as Razr was concerned…Smokescreen was truly the only other person the little turbofox knew and trusted.

“Of course he knows you.”

The troubled femme flashed Smokescreen a weary smile and pressed her cheek into his hand but her smile faltered when he mentioned that she didn’t have to worry about him.

“I know you feel better, Smokescreen, but I’m more worried about Sideswipe and Sunstreaker…I mean those two alone are a handful but together…”

Tracer shook her head slightly and then stepped up a little closer to the blue and red mech...caressing the side of his faceplate. The scout let out a quick low sigh followed by a slight nod.

“Alright. Just…just be careful.”

Tracer followed Smokescreen’s line of sight when the latter glanced over at Wheeljack who was working on his device. She met the rallybot’s optics when they both turned back to look at one another.

“I know. But you do realize that you leaving means I’m still here with those two and when that thing goes I might be the one dragging them to the med bay.”

The scout shook her head and let out a light chuckle. Now that would be something.

“You better go before Sideswipe gets bored or he gets tired of waiting and decides to do a room by room check for me. Oh, and take this…”

She took a quick look back at the medic and the engineer but then turned her attention back to Smokescreen stepped in close to him and placed another kiss on his lips. The moment lasted only slightly longer than the last before Tracer pulled away and whispered into Smokescreen’s audio.

“I……thank you.”

Corridor – Near Bounce Chamber

It was only slightly difficult for the minibot to keep in step with the much larger mech. He had always been capable to compensate for his smaller size by performing much more dangerous tasks. His skills in reconnaissance, scouting and espionage were second to none. He just wasn't sure why he hadn't been asked to join the Spec Ops. Oh well, maybe when I get back I can have a talk with Jazz to see what he says. Maybe I can convince him that I’d be a great addition…probably should mention Mirage being a pretty good candidate too.

Bumblebee’s musings were interrupted when the questions he had asked earlier were now being answered by their current mission leader. Prowl was a good mech but his explanations and answers always grated on…well, everyone. Maybe it was his voice. Or the way he carried himself…always so stiff. His personality was…well, he actually had no personality…in fact he was aloof…seemed to keep the illusion that he was always unapproachable…and he probably liked it that way. I wonder if he’d glitch if he had to smile and mean it.

He let his thoughts wander but kept his audio half tuned into whatever Prowl was saying. As always the report was very Prowl-like…long and precise…although the bit about Ratchet was pretty interesting.

“Okay. So in short, Hot Rod has gone off the deep end and he’s taken a few of our guys with him.”

Bumblebee grew quiet as he absorbed everything that had been explained to him. Although he’d rather be helping his friends retrieve their wayward comrades, he also knew that Prowl was right…their mission to find an appropriate location for their new on-world head-quarters was of high priority. Without it they were sitting ducks in orbit. They stood a better chance on the surface in an area no one could find.

“You know a lot of people say that…I should have seen "this" coming…but how can you really know what "this" is? You need to let things play out to be sure that "this" is what you should have been looking out for.”

Bumblebee placed his hand on the tactician’s forearm and flashed Prowl a reassuring smile.

“No one’s perfect Prowl, and as much as that battle computer and your ability to run statistics at fantastic speeds brings you close to that level…you’re not either.”

A routine scouting mission looking for resources with the added prospect of trying to avoid contact with the planet's inhabitants of bi-pedal apes. It didn't sound dangerous and there was probably enough amusement to be had listening into the local communications traffic to keep him entertained during the boring parts of the survey.

Though one new development did concern him. “No air support? Did Silverbolt's airheads decide that a recon mission was beneath them, though I guess that would depend on their altitude!” Freeway laughed as his processors calculated the mission now minus the Aerialbots. Maybe they would show up later but it would be better and safer to assume there would be no air support for the duration of the entire mission in which case he was going to have to get pretty inventive when it came dealing with any aerial threats. He followed the rest of the reduced team out of the door, following behind the others.

“I guess now would be a good time to ask if anyone has bothered to pack any surface-to-air missiles?” he asked Prowl, “Not that I am looking for any confrontation with the Decepticons, kinda defeat the point of a covert recon mission but just thinking they might be worthwhile if we find ourselves having to fight an aerial threat,” he suspected Prowl with all his logical computers would have figured this out for himself but it was worth making certain.

The Throttlebot had no idea what was going on with the whole Rodimus but it struck him that if the higher-ups were having difficulty commanding things then clearly there were some serious issues to be resolved, hopefully that would all happen whilst the team were down on Earth.

Wheeljack’s Lab

Wheeljack pulled his hand out of the guts of the replicator once the new circuit board was installed and then secured the cover back on top with one swift motion. Using a clean rag, the scientist wiped away the grime left behind by the smoke that had poured out of it less than a breem ago. Now the invention looked good as new and hopefully it would operate as such from here on out.

The mechanical engineer’s attention was quickly drawn away from the device by the sound of the field medic’s vocal processor. Unfortunately, what Axle had to say wasn’t what Wheeljack wanted to hear regarding the validity of the reproduced Syk. “Well, that’s disappointing,” the white mech replied plainly as he turned his head to look at the Autobot medic. “I suppose you’re right. We should try it again with the new circuit board now in place. I won’t give up until I get it right no matter how long it takes.”

Of course, they didn’t have forever to get the replication process correct. Tracer’s condition was worsening by the astrosecond and she would need her next fix soon if she was going to keep her sanity intact. Taking the original vile into his hand once again, Wheeljack placed it back into the replicator and had the contents scanned for the second time. Afterwards, he placed the vile back onto his workbench and then carefully checked the readouts on the side of his invention to ensure that all of the elements were accounted for.

“Okay, Axle, I think we are ready,” Wheeljack stated with some confidence as he again initiated the replication process and watched the device power up for the third time. “We should be good on this try. All of the ingredients were successfully scanned and included within the program’s algorithm,” the scientist explained, raising his vocals over the sound of the machine so that the field medic could hear him. The replicator then began vibrating again, causing a small amount of panic to wash through Wheeljack’s frame and nerve receptors. However, this time the vibrations were minor and there was no accompanying smoke. The circuit board was holding. Thank Primus it was working as it should.

A few more astroseconds passed and the device started its power down cycle, indicating that the replication process was near complete. Finally, Wheeljack exhaled what he had been holding in almost the entire time and glanced over at Axle again, giving him a relieved nod. The scientist then opened the side panel and reached into the mist that hung within the chamber, grasping ahold of a new vial of reproduced Syk. Pulling it out, ‘Jack held it up to optics level and smiled beneath his faceshield.

“It looks cleaner than the last sample,” Wheeljack commented as he handed the new vial over to Axle for analysis. “It’s not as cloudy in appearance. Perhaps that’s a good sign, don’t you think?” Of course, appearances could be deceiving and they wouldn’t know if the replicator worked perfectly this time until the field medic placed the most recent sample into the electron microscope’s diagnostic computer. Actuators crossed.
_________

Smokescreen smiled as Tracer’s concern for him was revealed not just by her words but by her facial expressions, as well. Even with her optics looking decayed and burnt out, her anxiety still showed through as clear as when her sight had been normal. “I can handle the twins, Trace. Sunny’ll probably be jealous of my new paint job and wish he looked this good. Heh.” The troubled femme then stepped in closer to him and finally agreed to let him go and get Razr. “I’m alway careful or....at least I try to be.”

The diversion expert chuckled slightly as he felt her caress his cheek plate. For a moment, Tracer’s attention broke away from him to check on Wheeljack’s progress. Her concerns were now on the resident mad scientist and that unstable contraption of his that may explode at any astrosecond. She was worried about having to drag both the inventor and the medic down to the med bay all by herself, a feat that she would have trouble accomplishing even if she wasn’t suffering from the effects of the Syk. “Well, I’m sure everything will be fine. Remember, those two did put me back together without blowing the place up. Everything will be okay, Trace. I promise.”

The rallybot nodded in agreement as she told him that he should go before Sideswipe got too restless while waiting for someone to come and retrieve her little pet. However, before she allowed him to leave, the troubled femme gave him one last parting gift - a kiss that he returned in kind. After a few moments, she pulled back and whispered a gentle thank you into his audio receptor.

Smokescreen smiled again as he looked directly into her deteriorating optics. “You’re very welcome,” the diversion expert replied as he gave Tracer a warm embrace before letting go of her and heading for the door. As the steel panels parted, Smokey paused briefly and glanced back over his shoulder plate at the worried femme. “I’ll be back before you know it,” the rallybot assured her before finally turning around and disappearing into the corridor beyond.

Corridor - Near Bounce Chamber

“I never said Hot Rod was in his right mind,” Prowl responded plainly to Nova Strike’s observations. “He clearly is not in his right mind in any way shape or form. His insane words alone spoke volumes which is why I should’ve done something when I had the chance. Prime’s death is no excuse for my inaction.” No matter what anyone said, the military strategist knew that he had failed in his job and now sparks were at stake. It was bad enough that they had lost Optimus, but now the Autobots were fracturing like a bunch of Decepticons fighting over the leadership mantle. It almost made the black and white want to purge his tanks in utter disgust. Still, the ranger was right in that Magnus would set things on the correct path once more and bring those who have strayed back into the fold one way or another.

Bumblebee’s subsequent sentiments echoed those of Nova Strike, trying to show the strategist that he wasn’t perfect and shouldn’t chastise himself over a situation that he couldn’t possibly predict the outcome of. Perhaps they were right to a certain extent. Even Prowl’s logic center couldn’t be correct all of the time especially in the face of such illogical assertions that the former cavalier had made. Still the black and white had a responsibility to protect those under his temporary command and he failed to do so. It was one more reason that showed Prowl was better suited to working behind the scenes and allowing someone else to take the reigns. At least now the situation could be salvaged with the loss of life at a minimum.

“I appreciate everyone trying to cheer me up,” Prowl began to say as the group rounded another corner. “But what’s done is done. Hopefully, Magnus will succeed in his mission which, in my opinion, is just as important and vital as ours. We can’t afford to lose any more of our comrades in arms. There are already so few of us left as it is.” The mission commander’s attention was then drawn to Freeway, whose comment regarding the wayward Aerialbots brought laughter only from the Throttlebot jokester. “Silverbolt and his team are not our concern at this point. They will back us up as needed. We should be able to handle things down there on our own just fine.”

The saboteur’s subsequent question regarding surface-to-air missiles was not one without merit, but it was also something that was already taken care of. “Good thought, Freeway, but I already have us covered with my shoulder-mounted rocket launchers. However, to take your point a step further, I feel that we should all make sure we are fully armed and ready just in case the Decepticons come calling either by air or even land.” The military strategist stopped in the middle of the corridor and turned towards his team. “Therefore, we’ll make a quick pit stop by the armory first and load up on the necessary ammo and weapons before heading down to the surface. By the time we reach the bounce chamber, Magnus and Kup will be well on their way and then we will depart on our mission. Now, let’s move.”

With that said, Prowl led the group of Autobots down towards the ship’s armory where he hoped to find a good selection of incendiary missiles for his shoulder launchers not to mention acid pellet cartridges for his rifle.

Wheeljack’s Lab

From the vial Axle looked back up to Wheeljack who had just finished repairing the replicator. Axle was apprehensive to use the device once more but it would be the easiest, not to mention the quickest way to replicate the Syk. Hopefully this time around with the new circuit board the device would actually work properly.

“Yes, very disappointing. But look at it this way, ‘Jack, it didn't explode and it performed a majority of the work…all pluses in my book.”

Axle flashed the masked scientist a genuine smile. It faded slightly as he took a quick look in the direction of Tracer who seemed to be heading toward the back room where the recharge berth Wheeljack occasionally used was located. The medic let out a heavy sigh and looked back to the white mech. Wheeljack, by that time, had already scanned the vial once again and started the replicator back up. Axle had to nearly strain to hear what the engineer was saying but he was able to make out that the device had successfully scanned the vial this time around and that the final three elements were actually included in the program.

Several seconds later the replicator shut down and ‘Jack opened the side panel. Reaching into the mist the vial was withdrawn and promptly handed over to Axle who in turn moved back to the electron microscope where he extracted a small amount of replicated Syk and mounted a small sample on a glass slide. In turn the medic placed the slide into the scope and set the program to scan.

The process went quickly, and with a soft beep that indicated that the scan was complete, Axle regarded the results. Sifting through the information that flooded the screen Axle took in everything that was pertinent.

“I think, ‘Jack, that you could actually start a business selling these contraptions, and I’d like to be placed on the top of that list.”

Axle took a look over his shoulder at the mech that was stationed next to his new working invention. The field medic flashed him a broad smile and a deep nod.

“It’s an exact duplicate of the original sample. Congrats.”
____

The embrace Smokescreen gave her was returned instantaneously. If she had been able to she would have gone with him just to be sure he would be alright and just to be in his presence. With her head pressed against his neck cables Tracer nodded gently at his response to her thanks.

The scout lifted her head slowly and stepped back giving the rallybot space to step around her and move to the door. For a moment Tracer kept her back to him but she then quickly turned to face him. Unfortunately the distance between them made it nearly impossible to make out all of his finer details Her optic deterioration had escalated.

She couldn't see him, but she had no trouble hearing him and with his final words Tracer nodded and smiled. Tracer heard the door hiss open, footsteps and then another hiss indicating that Smokescreen was now gone. Tracer let out a low sigh. The femme then turned on her heel and brought her hands up. As much as she tried to deny it she needed help getting around now. She began to slowly move toward the back of the lab where the small recharge room was located. There was no point in loafing around the lab…after all she’d just be in the way so the best place for her to be was the back room.

She slid her hands along the wall using the smooth surfaces as a guide to her destination. During her entire trek her processor was filled with more “what ifs” and “why couldn't I’s” than she could have ever recalled. What if this plan doesn't work? What if Smokescreen finds it impossible to help me and finally walks away before I can tell him exactly how I feel?

Tracer shook her head trying to clear her mind of such inane thoughts. As soon as her knee hit the edge of the berth she placed her hands down on its surface and climbed on top. Tracer settled in quickly and shut down her optics. She couldn't see anymore as it was there was no sense in wasting any more energy keeping them online.

The femme turned on her side and brought her knees up to her chest. A low moan escaped her vocalizer as the first pangs of pain washed over her body. She would need another fix as soon as possible.

Wheeljack’s Lab

Wheeljack took a deep intake of air as he watched Axle place the latest sample of replicated Syk under the electron microscope. Thankfully, the scan was over with quickly and would hopefully produce the desired results. The field medic wasted no time in examining the findings as a multitude of data filled the small view screen. Once Axle had completed his analysis of the narcotic, he responded by complimenting the mechanical engineer’s accomplishment.

“So, does that mean...” Wheeljack asked without finishing his question. Instead, the medical officer confirmed what he had been hoping to hear. “Thank Primus!” The scientist shouted as he threw his arms up towards the ceiling before letting them fall back to his sides once more. “Heh, I’m not sure I want to start a business, considering how long it took me to get it right. As it is, I wouldn’t recommend running the replicator too often. Even with a new circuit board, it’s still kinda old and clunky. We don’t want to overuse it. Otherwise, we’ll be right back at square one again.”

The mechanical engineer then walked over to the worktable where the reproduced Syk was sitting and peered down at the vile. “I guess this means Tracer will be good to go for awhile. Of course, that still doesn’t resolve her underlying mental issues. I have no idea how we’re ultimately going to fix that. But at least we’ve bought ourselves some time to figure it out,” Wheeljack said, letting out a sigh as he glanced over to where Tracer was now resting on his usual recharge berth, her legs pulled up into a fetal position. “She doesn’t look too good over there,” the inventor noted as he returned his attention to Axle. “As long as you’re in agreement, we should probably administer the simulated Syk to her now before she gets any worse. We should also keep the original vile safely in storage as a back-up just in case I have to scan it again. The replicator's internal computer already has all of the elements saved on the hard drive so we don’t have to continuously re-scan the drug. However, you still never know when something will go wrong, resulting in lost data. We should be prepared for that. Just a suggestion, of course.”

Wheeljack looked over at the troubled femme again as her suffering was becoming more and more apparent to any mech with half a processor. It was then that the mad scientist finally realized that something was missing or, more accurately, someone. “Hey, where’s Smokescreen? He was just here an astrosecond ago. Did he leave the lab? Is it even safe for him to got out alone?”

Wheeljack’s Lab

From his position on the stool not far from the scientist and his invention, Axle sent Wheeljack a broad smile at his reaction. The replicator worked perfectly although there was a chance that if it was needed more often it might not remain functional.

“That’s right, ‘Jack your contraption worked perfectly…this time around.”

Axle flashed him an even broader smile with the mention of Wheeljack not wanting to open a business selling his contraptions…thank Primus. Upon the mention of the addicted femme and the uncertainty of just what to do after her addiction was handled…if it ever could…Axle turned to look in her direction. Tracer had retreated to the recharge berth set in the small back room within the lab.

The scout was lying on her side with both legs drawn up close to her chest resembling a tight fetal position. Axle regarded her form with more interest than previously. He slowly stood from the stool and simply nodded in response to Wheeljack’s suggestion.

“Yeah. Storing the original vial’s a good idea, ‘Jack.”

The field medic stepped into the back room and placed his hand gently on Tracer’s shoulder. The femme shook visibly and let out a low painful groan. Axle pulled his hand away rather quickly as concern fell upon his visage.

“Tracer? Tracer, look at me.”

Axle moved to jostle the femme again, but halted his action for fear he might cause her more pain. Instead he maneuvered around so he was in front of her field of view and squatted down. Tracer slowly turned her head up toward the sound of Axle’s voice…her optics still dark.

“Online your optics for me.”

“I…I can’t.”

Axle let out a heavy sigh and gently shook his head.

“I can’t see anymore.”

Gritting his teeth the medic took a look over his shoulder and back at the engineer. He shook his head lightly before looking back at the ailing scout.

“Your optics…Tracer, I’m going to administer some of the replicated Syk, but I need you to tell me the exact dose you utilize.”

“Full…Full vial.”

Axle pushed back from the berth and nodded…his lips drawn in a tight thin line. After several astrosconds the medic patted the surface of the berth and stood back up. He moved to where Wheeljack was still standing and crossed his arms over his chest.

“I never thought…we’re going to need that replicator in top condition, at least for the foreseeable future.”

It was then that the engineer brought up the missing Smokescreen. Axle quickly lowered his arms and took a long look around the immediate area. The medic let out a low growl; a deep scowl set on his face.

“No. He should be here, resting. He still needs to be monitored. Unbelievable!”

Wheeljack’s Lab

Wheeljack nodded when Axle gave the go ahead to keep the original vial of Syk safely stored away until such time as it might be needed again. Grabbing said vial, the mechanical engineer wasted no time in moving to a nearby cabinet where he placed the narcotic inside and subsequently locked the door with a security code that only he and the field medic would be privy to.

At the same time, Axle had made his way to Tracer’s side to check on her condition and find out from her what the necessary dosage was that she normally took. Wheeljack watched the two mechs converse briefly as the scientist returned to his prior position. Moments later, the medical officer moved back over to where the scientist stood and mentioned that the replicator would need to be kept in top condition for the foreseeable future if they were going to keep Tracer’s addiction under control. ‘Jack nodded in agreement as Axle then became angered by the fact that Smokescreen had left the lab too soon without proper supervision.

“I agree, Axle,” Wheeljack replied as he glanced over at the troubled femme once again before returning his attention to the field medic. “I’m sure Tracer knows where he went. He’s probably off doing something for her, I’d imagine. Perhaps we should question her about it. Of course, in her condition she may not be able, or willing, to give us a straight answer.”

Not wanting to waste further time wondering about his recently rebuilt comrade, Wheeljack opened a secured comm line to the diversion expert:

>>”Smokescreen, this is Wheeljack. Where the slag are you? You still need to rest up. You’re not at 100% yet regardless of how well you may feel! If you’re going to leave the lab, you need an escort! Smokescreen! Please respond immediately!”<<

After several astroseconds without a reply from the rallybot, Wheeljack cast another worried look over at Axle. “It’s not like him to ignore a friend, especially considering the circumstances. So, either he’s turned off his comm so we won’t bother him, or he’s in some kind of trouble, again, and can't respond. Maybe I should go out looking for him before I perform any maintenance work on the replicator. All this could be for naught if he gets in over his head and someone, like say Red Alert, finds their way back here.”

A short time later....

Secure Message from Smokescreen to Tracer:

>>”Hey, Trace, it’s Smokescreen. I’m fine and you’ll be happy to know that Razr is away from Sideswipe. What an aft hole he was, but I’ll fill you in on those details later. The only unfortunate thing is that Razr has run off again, but I’ve got Bluestreak here helping me search for him so it shouldn’t be too much longer. Take it easy in the meantime and I’ll see you soon.”<<

Wheeljack’s Lab

The scowl on his face merely deepened as Axle ran through all of the possible scenarios that could be occurring right now while Smokescreen is off gallivanting. All the medic needed the rallybot to do was rest and recover…after that than whatever. But no! Instead the hero had to go running off in order to save his lady-love from some other peril. Slag.

Axle let out a low, nearly, inaudible sigh.

“No, she might not even remember what they last talked about. Look…”

The medic made his way to the replicated narcotic and took a firm grip on the vial. He then grabbed an injector and turned back to face Wheeljack. Axle turned his gaze from the equipment he had just taken possession of toward Tracer who was curled in to herself even tighter now. With a shake of his head the field medic loaded the vial’s contents…save the final 15%...into the injector.

"...I’m going to administer the Syk. Just so we’re clear…the effects will take hold rather quickly. Her pain will subside but she’ll wind up paralyzed. Circuit Speeders have the tendency to do that. It won’t last forever, but long enough for you to do a bit of work on her optics.”

Axle checked the setting on the device and took a quick glance back in Wheeljack’s direction.

“I’ll go and find Smokescreen. I have a feeling that if you head out there you and Red will cross paths and the inquisition will begin. I don’t think Red knows I’m helping you out so if we happen to bump into one another it won’t raise his suspicions.”
____

Tracer let out another pain-filled groan as she attempted to change her position on the berth. Every movement was torture. After a short rest the femme once more tried to extend her legs and turn over…the act only send tendrils of white hot agony through her every joint.

She finally relented and pulled her knees back up toward her chest where she wrapped her arms securely around them. With her optics non-functional Tracer needed to rely on her other sensors in order to ‘see’ the world around her.

Through her pitched intakes she could hear Wheeljack and Axle discussing something about a missing person…then something about Circuit Speeders. The light beeping that came across her processor let her know that she had just received a secure message from…from…Smokescreen…

“Smokescreen? Where…Smokescreen?”

As much as she wanted to, Tracer was unable to focus long enough to open the communique and determine just what the matter was….if there was anything.

Wheeljack’s Lab

Wheeljack paid close attention as Axle retrieved an injector before loading the replicated Syk into the device in preparation of administering the narcotic to Tracer. The field medic then explained what he was about to do and what effects could be expected once the drug had entered the femme’s systems. The paralysis he described should give the mechanical engineer just enough time to fix, or at least improve, Tracer’s failing optics.

“I’ll be able to restore her sight without much of a problem,” Wheeljack confirmed as Axle moved towards the drug-addicted femme. “As for the scorch marks around her sockets, well, I might be able to clean them up some so she can pass for a normal mech again. However, her vision is my primary concern.” The mad scientist then nodded in agreement when the field medic offered to go look for Smokescreen, himself, noting that if ‘Jack encountered Red Alert during his travels it would only lead to more intrusive questioning from the security expert. “Agreed. It’s better that I stay here, anyway, and work on Tracer’s optics.

With the important decisions out of the way for now, Wheeljack headed for a storage closet and began rummaging through it for the tools he would need to fix the troubled femme’s damaged eyes. Before long, he found an optical repair kit sitting on a lower shelf and quickly took hold of it. Peering inside, the inventor could see that everything he needed was included. There were mini-pliers, a laser cutter, optical screwdriver, soldering pen and replacement lenses. Now, all he had to do was wait for Axle to administer the Syk to Tracer. The mechanical engineer looked over at the field medic and watched closely, hoping the pain-riddled femme did not have any kind of adverse reactions to the reproduced narcotic.

Wheeljack’s Lab

Axle remained silent while he regarded Wheeljack. The engineer would be more than capable of repairing Tracer’s optics although the heat damage already done to the optical sockets might be a bit more difficult to reverse. Still it was something the both of them could work with.

With a nod indicating his agreement and understanding the medic took one more look at the injector’s settings before making his way back over to the addicted femme’s side.

Tracer groaned lowly as another wave of pain washed over her already tired and sensitized frame. The intensity seemed to be growing steadily with no sign of relenting anytime soon. The femme already knew exactly what would make it all go away. She nearly fell from the berth when she felt a hand gently touch her shoulder…the touch, although meant to be light, still sent shock waves of fiery agony coursing through her body.

“Tracer? Tracer…it’s Axle.”

The femme drew in a deep breath before turning her head in the direction of the medic’s voice. Her brow furrowed as she fought back a new groan of pain. Carefully Tracer reached up and took a hold of Axle’s forearm. Her grip tightened as she tried to pull herself up to get closer to the doctor.

“Ax…Axle…please. Hu…it hurts so mu….much. I need…make it stop. Please…make it stop.”

The medical officer shook his head slowly as he watched and listened to the femme beg for the one thing that she believed would make her suffering end. It was disheartening to see a perfectly good person reduced to begging for a drug that did nothing but ruin her life.

“It’s okay, Tracer. I’ll make it go away, but I need you to turn onto your back. Here, let me help…”

Relief washed over Tracer when she finally heard that the doctor would stop the pain. She nodded at his request for her to turn onto her back and accepted when took hold of her legs and helped her move into position. She ignored the discomfort knowing that it would go away if she cooperated.

Axle waited for a moment until the femme had settled down enough for him to sit on the edge of the berth without agitating her further. The medic let out a heavy sigh as he reached up and placed his hand gently against her lower jaw. Slowly he pushed to the side and up exposing one of the main energon lines that ran down her neck.

“Alright, you’re gonna need to hold still…”

She grew motionless as she felt the sharp tip of the injector press into the hard line…and then came the familiar sensation of warmth. Almost immediately her tense body relaxed and she let out a low contented sigh. Once the entire vial was administered Axle removed the ejector and placed it on a side table. From a storage compartment in his leg he produced a portable medical scanner and began taking several readings.

The Syk coursed through her systems quickly and Tracer was more than happy to be along for the ride. Everything went away…the pain, her highly sensitized sensations, and all of the muddled thoughts…all of them gone. And the more she relaxed the more things became clear.

To Axle’s relief the scans seemed to all be within normal parameters…for an addict. He lowered the scanner and watched as the femme’s mouth opened wide as if she was ready to speak but she produced no noise. Her movements then stopped…her body growing lax as paralysis took hold. Axle motioned for Wheeljack.

“Alright. She’s in that paralyzed state I told you about. It’ll last for a while so you’ll have plenty of time to repair her optics. One thing…”

He took a quick glance back at the blue and white femme before looking back up at his assistant.

“She’s still fully aware…she just can’t talk, move or react. And she can still feel.
The repair will have to be taken care of with her awake. I have no intention of pumping her full of sedatives or pain inhibitors. Primus knows how they’ll interact with the Syk.”

Axle got up off the berth, stored his scanner and placed a hand on Wheeljack’s shoulder. He gave it a gentle squeeze before moving past the white mech and back into the main laboratory.

“I’m gonna go reign in our wayward patient. I’ll be back as soon I can.”

His intentions made clear, Axle left the scientist’s lab to begin his search for Smokescreen.