Seibertron.com Energon Pub Forums

Wheeljack’s Lab

Wheeljack watched Axle’s reaction to his counter argument regarding the medic’s inclusion in the lie they now had to tell. Clearly, something was bothering Axle and it was more than just being involved in all this. He appeared to be in actual physical pain. The mad scientist was about to question him when the field surgeon turned and apologized for his lack of thinking before instructing the engineer to contact Prowl and let him know what had supposedly happened to Smokescreen.

“No problem, Axle,” Wheeljack said as he gave the field medic a concerned look. The mechanical engineer decided it was best not to pry about whatever was bothering the medic as there was a more pressing matter at hand now. Speaking to Prowl was not something ‘Jack looked forward to doing as dealing with the military strategist was always a bit of a crap shoot. Sometimes, Prowl was very easy going and understanding, but that was only if he had something else on his processor that he found more important. Other times, he was a real stickler for protocols and following the rules right down to the letter. Hopefully, on this occasion, he’d been in a good mood.

Taking a deep intake of air, Wheeljack opened a secured comm line to the black and white mech: >>”Prowl, this is Wheeljack over on the 22. I need to speak with you at once in regards to an urgent matter. Do you have a moment to spare, sir?”<<

Several astroseconds passed by without an immediate response. The wait was enough to make any mech more than a bit anxious. Finally, Prowl sent a reply back on the same secured channel. >>”I suppose, Wheeljack. But you’re going to have to come over here to the Guardian and meet me in my quarters. I’m in the middle of preparing for an important scouting mission, and I have very little time to spare.”<<

Wheeljack sent a non-verbal acknowledgement back to the strategist and quickly took leave of his lab, heading for the Protectobot frigate as fast as his feet would carry him.
_________

Smokescreen remained silent as Tracer told him not to counter what she was about to say to him. He listened to her sincere words as though he had not heard her voice in many vorns. In reality, it had been many cycles since the incident down on Earth, but it seemed like a lot longer to him. His internal chronometer was brand new like the rest of him, and thus it was starting over just like he was in many ways. He felt different physically, but not too much so. As the troubled femme said, he was who he was and that would never change.

“I remember...telling you that,” the rallybot replied to her last whispered statement. “But, I must admit....I’m really glad....that I have you.” His smile widened as he gazed up into her brilliant optics.

It was then that Axle approached and glared down at the diversion expert, ordering him to get up off that slab and start walking around immediately. He was not to stop for at least eight cycles if not more, spending twenty minutes moving around and only five resting at a time. It seemed like a tall order considering his current condition, but Smokey was determined to get back to normal as soon as possible. Tracer still needed him, after all, as her Syk addiction had only been temporarily calmed by recent events and not cured. That goal would take far more effort to achieve.

“Yes, sir,” Smokescreen replied as Axle had already begun to pull his legs off of the make-shift medical berth while Tracer had quickly moved in and put his right arm over her shoulders. Before the rallybot knew it he was up on his feet, a strange sensation especially considering he now had a new body. Looking down at himself, Smokey couldn’t help but wonder what Earth-bound vehicle mode Wheeljack had chosen for him. The red and blue racer was about to ask the scientist when he made quick leave of the lab. “He’s in a rush, huh? Going to talk to...Prowl is he? Hope that...goes well.”

Smokescreen cast a sly smirk over at Tracer as she tried to support his body weight with her lighter frame. “You know, Axle mentioned incentives...to keep me going,” the diversion expert mentioned playfully to the troubled femme. “I’m certainly looking forward...to what you have...in mind, Trace. Heh.” The rallybot chuckled as he took his first step forward away from the slab he had been lying on for far too long.

(OOC: Sorry for the delay Smokes, needed to find the right time to catch up on writing while on vacation.)

Wheeljack’s Lab

“Yeah. Wheeljack’s got some stuff to discuss with our resident annoyance. And don’t worry; I’ve every faith in your friend, Smokescreen.”

Axle took a few steps back giving Tracer enough room to help Smokescreen up onto his new feet. He’d be a bit wobbly at first but of course that was to be expected. After all he hasn’t been online for more than a cycle.

The field medic took up a position next to the door Wheeljack had exited out of moments earlier. With any luck the mechanical engineer would pull off their ruse and Prowl would believe the Cosmic Rust story that would be spun.

Axle shook his head slightly as he placed a hand over his face and slid it down slowly. Convincing Prowl of anything was such a chore, and trying to get him to believe their story would be a crapshoot.

The larger mech took another look at both his patient and his femme and let out a heavy sigh. He’d gotten himself in deep before, but this was something else. Being found out about this…he wouldn’t receive a slap on the wrist and a simple demotion like last time…no this time he’d be incarcerated and possibly sent to one of the many prison institutes. Oh sure, it’d be one of the nicer ones, but who in their right mind would want to live out their existence in a cell?

His thoughts were quickly banished by a surge of intense pain radiating from the same location as his previous wound. During his work he had pulled a few energon and fuel lines lose not to mention tearing open a few new ones that had been installed.

Axle bit back a pain-filled yelp as he placed a hand on his abdomen and cringed slightly. He’d need to head back to the med bay soon to have Ratchet look at the damage, but there was absolutely no way he was leaving Smokescreen now that he finally got up and on his feet. No, he’d just have to grin and bear it.
____

Tracer smiled down at Smokescreen when he mentioned he remembered what he had told her so long ago. It felt good to know that he could recall something from that time. Before she could say anything more she found herself placing Smokescreen’s arm over her shoulder and lifting the heavier mech up onto his feet. She forced herself to stay steady as she leaned him closer into her side…placing her free hand around his back and resting it around the edge of his waist.

Once they were both balanced and Axle answered the rallybot’s questions, Tracer began to gently, and slowly help Smokescreen around the lab. They started out taking tiny steps with Tracer concentrating on how and where the mech placed his feet.

That concentration was broken when she lifted her head and took a quick look at Smokescreen who happened to be looking in her direction with a sly smirk on his face. Unsure of just what he had trolling around in his mind Tracer gave him a quizzical look…that was until he spoke. With a serious expression plastered on her face she looked at Smokescreen intently before casting him a suggestive smile.

“I’m not sure I want to give it away…but I will give you a sneak peek.”

Tracer stopped their movement around the lab and leaned in close. She gazed at him for a moment before placing a gentle kiss on his cheek. She pulled back very slowly and looked him in the optics…a delicate smile replacing the suggestive one she wore only recently.

“I hope that was to your liking.”

Wheeljack’s Lab

Smokescreen nodded to Axle as the field medic confirmed that Wheeljack was going to have a talk with Prowl regarding the events of the past several cycles, or at least the faux story they had apparently concocted to shield the truth from the prick-bot. “Annoyance is an.... understatement, Axle,” the rallybot commented with a chuckle as Tracer supported a good portion of his weight while he took small steps around the lab area. There was no real pain to speak of except for some minor soreness in his back where the T-cog had been transplanted. Smokey also felt a bit stiff all around, but it was nothing that wouldn’t work itself out soon enough. It was like a newly installed gear or other replacement part. It just had to be properly broken in. What the diversion expert felt most was weakness and instability. Getting used to the feel of a whole new body would take some time.

The unpainted mech reached the other side of the lab before slowly turning around with the intent of heading back the way he had come. As he did so, Tracer looked over at him with a suggestive smirk on her visage. She had heard his previous statement regarding what incentives she had in mind for him. Her initial response indicated that the troubled femme was not willing to tell him just yet. But a tease, well, that was another story. Tracer stopped his movements so that she could lean in and plant a delicate kiss on his cheek plate. Once she was done, the femme pulled away and allowed her naughty smile to fade into a more sensitive one.

“Oh....I liked that a lot,” Smokescreen admitted with a warm smile of his own. “And I look forward to....a lot more than that. Heh.” The rallybot chuckled under his breath as he began walking forward again. Feeling as though his strength was slowly beginning to return, Smokey attempted to take slightly larger steps but almost lost his balance in the process. Thankfully, he managed to reach out with his free hand and grasp a hold of a nearby stool. Between that and holding on to Tracer, the diversion expert kept himself from falling to the floor. “Well, that was close. Guess maybe...I should slow down some, huh?”

With his balance restored, Smokescreen let go of the stool and was about to continue his walking exercises when he suddenly paused for a moment and cast a serious look over at Tracer. He leaned in close to her, but it was not to give her a reciprocated kiss. There was something very important he needed to ask her, something he had only just remembered. “Tracer, did Wheeljack....get the other vile of Syk out of my....leg compartment?” Smokey whispered his question so that Axle would not hear him. “I took it off of...Oil Slick back on Earth. Where is it now? It wasn’t destroyed....with my old body...was it?”

Wheeljack’s Lab

From his relaxing position next to the door Axle watched closely while Tracer helped Smokescreen move carefully around the lab. They circled around slowly in order to keep the diversion expert as balanced as possible. Having him take a fall now would cause serious damage, damage Axle would not be happy to repair especially with his own wounds ailing him.

A small smile crossed his lips as he noticed both the mech and femme stop for a moment giving Tracer the chance to provide his patient with what looked to be a small incentive. The field medic shook his head and crossed his arms over his chestplate. From his vantage point the mech enjoyed the femme’s little gift…who wouldn't?

He pushed off the wall when saw Smokescreen take a miss step and grab hold of a stool and grip Tracer a bit tighter. From his vantage point it looked as though Tracer had everything under control as the diversion expert regained his balance and the femme led him on.
____

After pulling back from her kiss she flashed Smokescreen a broad smile after he commented that he enjoyed the gesture quite a bit. She didn’t want to linger too long in a stationary position so she stayed quite, but only until he mentioned that he was looking forward to a lot more. Tracer cast him a playful smirk before moving him along.

“There’ll be more, don’t you worry about that. But I’m saving the best for when we’re done.”

Tracer let out a low chuckle as they rounded the lab for a third time, but now the rallybot was taking larger steps…something Tracer hadn’t realized until he nearly took a tumble. She let out startled gasp when she felt Smokescreen lose his balance and, thankfully, grab a hold of a nearby stool to regain his footing. Instinctively Tracer gripped around the red and blue mech’s waist tighter than before.

“Yeah. Smaller steps would be for the best.”

She flashed him an uneasy smile while he steadied himself and let go of the stool. At the same time Tracer readjusted her grip and made to take her next step when Smokescreen paused and looked over to her with a serious expression. At first Tracer believed that he actually did hurt himself but when she heard the concern in his voice as he spoke her name Tracer focused all her attention on him.

“He did. He has it on his workbench.”

She placed her hand gently on his cheek and flashed him a pain- filled expression.

“I know you took it from Oil Slick. And don’t worry I had to tell Axle everything as well. He wanted no part in any of it unless he knew how and why you were hurt.”

She kept her hand on his cheek as she looked to the floor.

“I’m sorry. I never wanted to involve anyone other than Wheeljack, but even that was unfair. And now…now Axle’s involved. This is getting out of hand. I’m beginning to wonder if any of it is worth it…or me for that matter.”

Science Lab

Magnus mused quietly to himself at the sense of ease that washed over his optical sensors as he stepped off the docking boom linking the Ark 22 to the smaller and decidedly more cramped frigate, Guardian. His former and now current seat of command, he shook his head, he could not limit himself to the command of a single starship, Even still Ultra Magnus had once claimed the bridge of this magnificent vessel as his very own fiefdom. As the large blue and white officer navigated the halls as if by instinct and a hidden memory from years of habitation of this vessel, regardless of the fact that most of the Ark Class vessels were of similar make and construction, Ultra Magnus managed to meet and greet with several nondescript Autobot technicians, scientists and other soldiers and operators of the large city sized multipurpose star craft.

He took note of the general increase of morale as he advanced through the dimly lit halls. Spirited salutes were followed by murmurs as he returned respectful nods, the over all mood brightening as he walked. Perhaps Prowl was correct in his initial observation, Ultra Magnus rejected the notion outright. They were being respectful because of his rank. The fact he had assumed command was still not widely known across the small group of Autobots within the sector. As so far as it stood, most of them believed Prowl was still in command and either Springer or Grimlock was his executive.

Turning the bend Magnus approached a large red painted door trimmed in white emblazoned with a large Autobot Science Academy Insignia on its face. He stopped half way between the turn and the door leading to the inter sanctum of the sciences. His mind darted from the thought of breaking the news of transfer of command to the actual notion of how to deal with Grimlock and his actions. Ratchet's words still echoed in his processors as he attempted to shake them to the back of his thought matrix. The loss of Optimus had a detrimental effect on everyone. He, himself, had borne a large impact at the news when he had received Prowl's communique that lead to his current assignment. Ratchet was handling it as he always had, accepting the loss yet not demonstrating those emotional burdens, burying it deeper and deeper inside. Prowl, Magnus assumed Prowl allowed it to build to the point where such burdens began to seep into his judgement processors. At least in this coming mission Prowl would be tempered by Silverbolt should things go awry.

Magnus reached the large red door and pressed the access panel. It slid open quietly to reveal a small laboratory filled with various gauges, scanners and other replication devices that lined the farthest walls. The illumination strips were dimmed to conserve power as the hidden scientist and metallurgist was about doing his important research. "Perceptor?" Ultra Magnus called out as he stepped further in, the door hissing to a close behind him. "Are you here Perceptor?"

Wheeljack’s Lab

Smokescreen glanced over to the workbench where he could see the vile of Syk sitting there amongst Wheeljack’s tools and other equipment. The rallybot hadn’t noticed it before until Tracer had pointed it out to him, but then again his optical vision was just now returning to within normal working parameters. “Thank Primus,” Smokey whispered, knowing that all had not been in vain. “I was hoping to get more off of Oil Slick, but...that’s all he had. It’ll have to do, I guess. Better than nothing.”

The diversion expert returned his attention to Tracer, a smile never leaving his faceplate. “It’s fine that Axle knows. You did what you had to...to save me.” Smokescreen replied as the troubled femme wondered if it had all been worth it, if she had been worth all of the problems her addiction had inadvertently caused. The unpainted mech let out a low sigh as he lifted his free hand to Tracer’s chin, raising her head up so that he could look into her optics once more. “Of course, you’re worth it! Don’t ever think...not for an astrosec...that you’re not. All the pain...the lies...the risk...I’d go through it again in a spark pulse...if it meant helping you beat this thing.”

Smokescreen then leaned in again and pressed his lips against her chevron for several astroseconds before pulling back, his pristine blue optics gazing into her own. “Now, let’s get me over to that....workbench, okay?” The rallybot suggested, wanting to get a closer look at the vile of Syk he had stolen from the Decepticon chemist. He took another step forward, going slower this time to avoid any unnecessary tumbles. It would serve him no good if he rushed and fell, damaging his new, but still frail body. He would regain his strength in time, but for now he needed to take it easy and simply follow his doctor’s orders. Unfortunately, time was not necessarily on his side as Tracer’s Syk dependency would eventually become a problem again. At the moment she was fine, but that would not last forever and Smokey needed to be in tip top shape for when she would require his help once again.

As he moved across the lab towards the workbench that was now only a short distance away, Smokescreen tried to think of something more positive, allowing his processor to wander back to what Tracer had said in regards to saving the best for last. A chuckle escaped from the rallybot’s vocalizer as a sly grin spread across his visage. “You know, Trace...I can’t wait to see what your best is. Of course....feel free to show me now...if you don’t want to keep me in suspense.”
_________

It had been several breems since Wheeljack left his lab to go speak with Prowl regarding what had happened to Smokescreen. Of course, it was all a lie, one that the military strategist seemed to believe if not with a hint of anger and disappointment in his responses to the mechanical engineer. Luckily, the black and white had been in a rush. Otherwise, he may have pressed ‘Jack further regarding those made up events. As it were, Prowl accepted the report and dismissed the scientist with little more than a stern reprimand for not following protocol. At least, Red Alert was not present for the meeting. Then things wouldn’t have gone as well as they did.

Heck, if Red had been there I’d still be answering questions, Wheeljack thought as he approached the entrance to his lab and entered the access code. Once the doors had parted, the engineer stepped inside and looked across the room to see Tracer helping Smokescreen take slow steps around the lab. It was good to see his friend up and about again, even if he was leaning on a femme to maintain his balance. Still, the rallybot had come a long way since he was nothing more than a melted mess on the scientist’s worktable.

Glancing over to his left, Wheeljack spotted Axle standing nearby, watching as his patient carried out the exercises he had instructed the rallybot to perform. Approaching the field medic, the mechanical engineer gave him a curt nod before telling him the good news. “Well, Axle, it looks like Prowl bought our Cosmic Rust story. He was less than thrilled that I waited so long to report everything to him, but I’m confident he believed what I told him nevertheless. I guess it helped that it was a plausible scenario, and that I’m highly trusted by just about everyone within the Autobot ranks. Of course, I won’t be anymore if the truth is ever discovered.”

Wheeljack looked back over his shoulder just in time to catch sight of Smokescreen giving Tracer a kiss on her chevron. The scientist shook his head before returning his attention to Axle. “Looks like Smokey is doing pretty good over there, heh, in more ways than just his rehabilitation.”

Wheeljack’s Lab

Tracer relaxed but only slightly when Smokescreen had no qualms about Axle getting involved in their tangles web of lies and deceit. It was an act that the femme found morally ambiguous. After all she lied to the one mech who she trusted the most and found it to be…easy. Something even now she could not understand. Tracer gave him an uneasy smile before he responded to her doubts of their entire endeavor being worth the trouble or whether she was.

As always Smokescreen was honest to a fault. Reminding the femme that he would do anything for her in order to help her. The uneasy smile that she had been sporting before melted away and was replaced by a warm and grateful smile.

The scout lowered her head slightly and off-lined her optics as Smokescreen leaned in close and pressed a gentle kiss against her chevron. The loving gesture lasted for several seconds before the rallybot pulled away to gaze back into her optics. Without looking away Tracer sent him another smile before he asked her to take him to Wheeljack’s workbench where the vial of Syk was perched. The blue and white femme looked to the work station and back to the unpainted mech.

“Okay. But I’d rather you keep up with your walking.”

Even after voicing her opinion racer still led him over to his intended location. No matter how long she tried to put it off he would find a way to keep things moving forward. The trek was slow going but as long as Smokescreen remained on his feet and was balanced enough she didn’t care how long it took.

After a few moments of silence a light chuckle drew her attention to Smokescreen who had a mischievous grin plastered on his face. Tracer furrowed her brow and flashed him a quizzical expression. She cocked her head to the side when he started to tell her just what was on his mind. The mech’s statement elicited a chuckle from the femme. As she quieted down she gave the diversion expert an alluring smile before stopping their advance once more. Leaning in close Tracer whispered lowly into his audio receptor.

“I have been holding this back for far too long.”

She backed away slightly and took a quick look over her shoulder at Wheeljack, who was blocking her view of Axle. Once their positions were noted Tracer cupped the sides of Smokescreen’s faceplate and gently pressed her lips to his.

Tracer pulled away slowly…reluctantly. She lowered her hands from his face but she kept her optics locked with his. A very small smile edged its way onto her face while she pressed her forehead to his.

“I really should have done that the first time we met.”

----

From Axle’s locale he was able to watch every step his patient and his femme were making. It was times like these that the field medic could actually give all of his patients one on one care. It was the best way to ensure that they were doing everything in their power to follow doctor’s orders. As it was he needed to be responsible for one mech right now. In the coming future he would have to face Prowl who would no doubt question him on just what happened to Smokescreen. Perhaps the tactician’s exam would entail a vocalizer check requiring the medic to shut the mech up for the entire examination.

The thought brought a brief smile to his face before it vanished in the blink of an optic when Wheeljack arrived and took a place directly in front of Axle. The field medic turned his attention to the engineer as he knew Tracer would take good care of Smokescreen for the few moments he had to speak with Wheeljack.

“Well, that’s no real surprise. Prowl is never happy to hear anything that he’s had no dealings with. But let’s not get ahead of ourselves. I still have an exam to perform on him so there’s a good chance the subject will come up again.”

Axle brought a hand up to his abdomen and gently applied some pressure while turning his head to hide the pained grimace. As the wave of discomfort subsided the larger mech turned his full attention back to the white mech.

“I’m gonna try to keep him too busy with tests that way he won’t be able to focus on the story you fed to him. And if worse comes to worse I’ll put him out. Unfortunately it would only be temporary.”

Axle chuckled and shook his head slightly before he calmed down and peeked over at both Tracer and Smokescreen. The field medic caught the end of the rallybot’s affectionate gesture. Following behind Wheeljack, Axle let out a sigh and gave a gentle shake of his head.

“He’ll be just fine if he does more walking and less of his lovelorn pauses.”

Axle kept his voice down so as not to disturb both Autobots knowing that even if he did they’d simply ignore what he had to say. The field medic looked back to Wheeljack giving the engineer a worried expression.

“Tracer said this whole ordeal was over Syk …that Smokescreen was nearly killed over one vial. Did he even get it? And if he did…I take it he’s gonna want to reverse engineer it. Has he brought that up to you yet?”

Science Lab

For what seemed like vons…or perhaps it had been vorns, Perceptor had not taken the time to even check his chronometer so actual time within the lab stood deathly still…the scientist, what was left of it, was hard at work studying and testing the small sample of ore he found at the former site of the Decepticon base on Earth.

The ore was really quite fascinating. In all of his tests and exams it proved to be highly potent and it seemed to be capable of providing power to a number of devices…and to Perceptor’s surprise that power was enhanced.

He surmised that this one chunk of ore was one a tiny portion that had been available to the Decepticons. And he had a very good idea of how it got to Earth.

Perceptor was deep in his work when he heard the door to the lab slide open. The scientist laid his tool and scanner down while his sniper instinct kicked in. Carefully the red mech slunk past a series of cabinets and drew both of his side arms from his hip holsters. There had been a voice at the far end of the lab but being on high alert the sniper was unwilling to process the ID.

Perceptor rounded one last row of shelves and appeared behind the mech…both weapons aimed perfectly at the head of the hulking form of Ultra Magnus.

“I should have locked the door and activated the communications system.”

Wheeljack’s Lab

Smokescreen offered absolutely no resistance when Tracer cupped the sides of his faceplate and planted a passionate kiss onto his newly fabricated lips. It was a sensation he had not felt since the time before the war when he frequented the Iaconian casinos where his penchant for winning, and cheating, often drew the attention of many a femme. Some would say he was a real lady’s bot back then, but Smokey never let things progress too far with any of them. At least, that is, until a certain troubled femme had crossed paths with him. From the moment he saw Tracer, the rallybot knew that she was different. He just could never have guessed just how different she really was.

“Yes...you should have,” Smokescreen agreed once she had pulled back and pressed her chevron against his own. “If you had I probably would have let you keep those chips you tried to steal from me. Heh.” The diversion expert smiled as he allowed space to form between their foreheads. He needed to keep moving if he was to get better sooner rather than later. “Let’s get me over to that workbench then....another lap around the room. Okay?”

Turning his head back to focus on his destination, the unpainted mech took several more slow steps forward, keeping his optics on the prize he had risked everything for. The vile of Syk was right there only a few feet away. Finally, once he had arrived at the table, Smokey reached down and picked it up in his left hand while his right arm remained around Tracer’s shoulders. He brought the vile up to optics level and studied it for a moment, letting out a low sigh. “So much trouble caused by something so small...and seemingly insignificant,” the tactician commented, not really expecting an answer. “You know, Trace, I do have a plan.” He glanced over to her as she continued to help support his weight. “To get you off this slag. I just hope that Wheeljack is willing...to help me yet again. He’s already done...so much. He may not want....to do anymore.”
_________

Wheeljack nodded as Axle mentioned the tests he still needed to perform on Prowl and how he would try to keep him as occupied as possible so the falsehood they had concocted did not come up. The idea of sedating the military strategist made ‘Jack chuckled slightly, but he was still concerned that Prowl would become suspicious if the field medic tried to deflect the black and white’s possible queries too much. “Personally, I think it would be best to just answer whatever he asks you, Axle,” the scientist suggested as he rubbed his chin guard. “I mean, you know how tenacious Prowl can be. He could become distrustful if you come across as dodging his questions. And knocking him out, as much fun as that would be, will only delay the inevitable, I’m afraid.”

Their conversation then turned to the Syk that Smokescreen had risked his spark for and the possibility that the rallybot may ask Wheeljack to help him backwards engineer the chemical. “Well, I did find a vile of what I assume is Syk in a leg compartment of Smokey’s old body. I placed it on a workbench over there,” the mad scientist answered as he glanced over his shoulder and pointed to where the rallybot had already picked up the vile in question. “As for making more, he hasn’t said anything to me about it. I’m not sure what I can do. After all, I’m no chemist. I’m just a scientist and inventor. This is not to mention the legality of doing such a thing considering I’ve already broken too many regulations and protocols to count.”

Wheeljack let out a heavy sigh as he turned his attention back to Axle. “Still, something has to be done about Tracer’s addiction. That one vile won’t last forever and then she’ll need more or suffer from intense withdrawals. If that happens and her problem is discovered by Prowl, a lot more questions will follow that could ultimately lead back to the truth of what really happened here. I may have no other choice but to help them if we are to keep this lie going. It is what it is, I guess.” The mechanical engineer shook his head at the realization that he would likely have to continue down this dishonest road they were all on. It was something he wasn’t looking forward to, but there may be no other way. Otherwise, they could all end up locked away in Garrus-9 for a very long time.

“You know, Axle, you should probably head back to the Guardian. Last time I saw Prowl, he was about to head down to the infirmary for those tests, and he’s likely there by now. Don't worry, I’ve got things under control here. I’ll keep Smokey moving around and give him a push when he tries to stop for another one of Tracer's little incentives. As you said, more walking, less smooching. Heh.”

Wheeljack’s Lab

Tracer flashed Smokescreen a tentative smile at his remark concerning her being more forward during their first meeting. She had to admit she thoroughly regretted not taking a chance back then. But now is all that mattered now.

The femme gave the diversionary expert a slight nod before guiding him slowly, and gently toward the workbench where the vial of Syk was perched. The closer they got the more hesitant the scout was to, not only approach but to converse about anything concerning the narcotic.

Once they had reached the workbench Tracer’s processor went to work trying to figure out a way, anyway, to put off explaining anymore about her. The femme’s attention was brought back to the unpainted mech when he spoke of just how the little flask holding the chemical had already caused so much trouble and had nearly cost Smokescreen his life and Tracer the mech she had become so close to.

“To anyone but me it would seem insignificant.”

Her voice was kept low knowing Smokescreen’s comment was never meant to be answered. It was the sound of his voice speaking her name that had her look over in his direction. She remained quiet as he explained just what he wished to do once he was ready to speak with Wheeljack.

Tracer was hesitant to respond; instead her brow furrowed and she lowered her gaze to the vial clutched firmly in the diversion expert’s hand. After a few minutes she placed her free hand over the hand Smokescreen was using to hold the flask.

“Smokescreen, asking him to do more than he already has…to put him in a position that could possibly land him in a penitentiary or worse…we can’t do that. I can’t do that.”

The blue and white scout looked from the vial then to the mech she was supporting at her side.

“He’s not a chemist, and there aren’t any onboard either of the ships. Tell me..tell me you can ask him to do something that can’t be done.”

Her optics bore into his but they lacked their former fire. She already knew that without a chemist, replicating the Syk would be nigh impossible. Tracer forced a smile as she removed her hand from his and proceeded to help Smokescreen once more around the lab. Carefully the scout steadied the unpainted mech’s balance as she looked on in Wheeljack’s direction…the usual deep blue of her optics brightening to a near white hue…a common side effect of the drug that was running through her systems.
____

“Heh. I suppose you’re right. I know I don't want our beloved tactician to catch on to anything that’s transpired. Needless to say I’ll try to make the exam go as quickly as possible.”

Axle took a look over the engineer’s shoulder as he mentioned the vial that he had removed from the leg compartment on Smokescreen’s now discarded body. The diversion expert had not approached Wheeljack about creating more of the narcotic, but he was anticipating the move.

“I know. He’ll never let it go…strike that…he’ll never let her go.”

Axle let out a heavy sigh as he looked back to the scientist poised before him. The medic pursed his lips into a tight line before taking one more look over ‘Jack’s shoulder. His head cocked to one side as he watched both the mech and femme resume their walking. After a quick moment of observation Axle placed a hand on Wheeljack’s upper arm and moved to turn him around.

“Side effects are exhibiting.”

The field medic kept his optics locked on the two Autobots while he reached into his leg compartment and pulled out a scanner. He raised the device to optic level so the white mech could see.

“Take this. I want scans of her every fifteen minutes. Relay the information back to me over my private comm line.”

Axle pressed the scanner into Wheeljack’s hand and looked the engineer in the optics.

“I have some basic knowledge of chemistry. I’ll come back and give you a hand just as soon as I take care of that other business. Do what you can to get started.”

With a firm squeeze of the engineer’s upper arm Axle gave a curt nod and left the scientist’s lab. He’d have to hurry of he wanted to get back on the Guardian before he received the comm from Ratchet.

Wheeljack’s Lab

“I know he’s not a chemist,” Smokescreen responded to Tracer as more strength finally returned to his vocalizer and he began moving around the lab once more. “But he’s one pit of a scientist and an inventor. I’m sure he’s got something around here that can synthesize the Syk in this vile. And if not...I’m positive he could build a machine if I asked him to.” The rallybot looked away from the vile and over at the troubled femme who remained steadfast by his side. He gave her a reassuring smile as he stopped and withdrew his right arm that had been draped over her shoulders, managing to stand precariously on his own. “See? Anything is possible. After what happened to me, you’d think I’d be one with the Allspark right now, but yet....here I am alive and almost well.”

Smokescreen cast his gaze back at the vile before creating a fist around it like a protective shell and allowing his left arm to drop down to his side. “We need to keep this safe and....not laying out in the open.” The unpainted mech regarded Tracer again with a serious look. “And I’ll ask whomever I need to in order to help you, Trace....whether that be Wheeljack or Primus, himself. It doesn’t matter. What matters is you getting better and never...ever...having to see that ‘Con again.” The diversion expert took hold of her left hand within his right and flashed her another warm smile. “Perhaps it’s time I tried walking more under my own power and less...under yours.”
_________

Wheeljack nodded as Axle agreed not to doing anything too rash in regards to Prowl or any questions the prick-bot may ask regarding recent events. It was best to simply play things straight to avoid any unwanted suspicions cast in their direction. The scientist simply chuckled at the field medic’s next comment that Smokey would never let the drug-addicted femme go. “I think that goes without saying, Axle. He risked everything for her. Smokey will fight for her until his spark is extinguished for good, I’m afraid.”

The mechanical engineer than felt the tug of Axle’s grip on his upper arm as the medic turned him around to witness for himself the side effects that were already manifesting from Tracer’s optics. “I see it. Her optics are glowing much brighter than normal.” Looking down, the scientist took hold of the scanning device that Axle had just produced from a leg compartment and listened to the field medic’s instructions. “No problem, Axle. Hopefully, she won’t give me too much trouble. At least I have Smokey to back me up.”

The revelation that Axle had a basic knowledge of chemistry did not surprise Wheeljack as a field medic would need some experience with such substances in order to tend to those in battle that had been exposed to chemical weapons. It would be something that would come in handy in this particular situation if the need arose. However, ‘Jack was certain that he could find a way to replicate the Syk quickly and efficiently without having to drag Axle even deeper into this mess. Of course, Smokescreen hadn’t even asked him to do anything yet and here the engineer was already contemplating how he would accomplish the task.

Once Axle had left to administer the aforementioned tests on Prowl, Wheeljack turned and walked over to where Tracer and Smokescreen were standing, the scanner in hand. The scientist wasn’t sure just yet how he was going to broach the subject with them, but now was not the time to delay things as her symptoms would only get worse. “Well, you two are looking pretty cozy. Heh. And I’m glad to see you standing on your own, Smokey. Just don’t go thinking you’re ready to run a mile just yet. You’ve still got a long way to go before you’re completely healed.”

Smokescreen chuckled as he looked over at his friend with a grin on his new faceplate. “I’ll try not to ‘Jack. By the way, what alt mode did you pick for me? This isn’t the same one...as before...is it?”

“Ha! No, it’s not the same. I took the liberty of upgrading you to something a little more modern, at least by Earth standards anyway. The database refers to it as a Subaru BRZ. It’s brand new and looks pretty slick in my opinion. Once you’re all painted up again, you’ll be the sharpest looking ‘Bot in this sector.”

“Yeah, well, when can I get my paint job back? I’m still feeling a little...naked here.”

“Soon, but first I need to conduct some tests...” Wheeljack paused for a moment as his attention switched from the rallybot over to Tracer. “...on you. I’m sorry, Axle wants me to run a complete scan on your processor. He’s very concerned about the effects that the Syk is having on you and the possible long-term damage it may already have caused. I know you may find this intrusive, but it is necessary, especially considering all of the trouble Smokey has gone through to help you beat your addiction. This is simply the next step.”

Smokescreen was more than a bit surprised by the mechanical engineer's sudden request. “Don’t you think that’s taking things to...the extreme, ‘Jack?” The rallybot asked as he then finally noticed the increasingly brilliant glow of Tracer’s optics, which appeared much more white now than their usual blue color. How did I not see that before? Smokey thought, kicking himself for not immediately seeing what was right in front of him. He knew that the intense glow was a side effect of the drug, but somehow he had missed it, likely because he was still adjusting to his own, newly fabricated optics.

“Um, maybe Wheeljack has a point, Trace," Smokescreen suggested as he quickly changed his tune regarding the scans. "I mean, your optics...they’re getting so bright they seem to be burning your sockets a little. Perhaps a scan would be beneficial...so that we can better help you in the long run.”