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Wheeljack’s Lab

Although she had walked away from Smokescreen she still hadn’t put too much distance between her and him. She was angry, as she knew he was, but she had no desire to be too away from him. Tracer had turned to face him just in time to see the rallybot take a step away from the table he was using as leverage and try to make his way over to her.

She watched intently while he stood and admitted that he might not have been the best of all the Autobots but he was devoted. It was true. No matter what happened or what he had done in his past he was still willing to give of himself in order to make her and his friends happy. For that she was truly grateful.

Tracer’s features softened and her tense posture finally relaxed. But that changed as Smokescreen attempted to take another step forward and stumbled. He landed on both knees before her. Tracer pursed her lips into a tight line and looked down at him.

It was his admitting that he didn’t want her to suffer anymore that nearly caused her to drop to her knees in front of him but she was beaten to the punch by the arrival of Wheeljack who had raced over to his friend’s side to make sure Smokescreen was alright. Tracer hadn’t reacted to the rallybot’s excuse concerning their argument…as far as she was concerned it was something that could be worked out in private.
____

Axle’s head rose slightly as he looked down in Wheeljack’s direction. The engineer was next to Smokescreen and urging him to take some time to rest and get back into the CR pod. It was a sound idea and something the field medic would like to see implemented.

“I’d have to agree with that sentiment, Wheeljack.”

Axle took a quick glance in Tracer’s direction before he looked down at the kneeling form of the diversion expert.

“I am a medic and time in that CR pod is for the best. So up and in!”

He sent a gesture toward Wheeljack letting the white mech know that the idea was sound and doctor’s orders were given.
_____

The conversation between Wheeljack and Axle went ignored by the femme while she kept her optics locked on the mech before her.

It had gotten uniquely quiet in the lab. Without tearing her eyes away from him Tracer dropped to her knees and gently placed her hands over Smokescreen’s. She sat for a moment and searched his features. They had known one another for centuries but there were still things that he knew nothing about. That had to change.

“You’re right. I should have told you. And I do trust you…I trust you implicitly. But you have to understand…I wanted my past…just that…to stay in my past. I never meant to hurt you.”

Tracer shook her head as she lowered her optics to their hands resting on his legs.

“I’m not going to be the same person you know. When we met I was already using. You’ve never known me…you’ve never seen me the way I really am.”

She raised her head and flashed him a weary smile while she gave him hands a gentle squeeze. It was time to stop. He needed his rest and she needed some time to think.

“I think Wheeljack and Axle are right. You need more time in that pod to recover.”

Her smile grew wider while she raised her right hand and laid it gently against his left cheek. She waited a moment taking in his features and finally locking optics with his. She rose up slightly on her knees and leaned forward pressing her lips to his in a slow passionate kiss. There would be time to talk later.

Wheeljack’s Lab

Wheeljack nodded at Axle when the field medic gave him the go-ahead to get Smokescreen up and into the CR pod in order to help speed his recovery along. The mechanical engineer then looked back at the rallybot only to find that Tracer was now there, kneeling in front of him. As she spoke to the diversion expert, ‘Jack glanced away at the floor to give them some semblance of privacy even though he could still hear what was being said. The engineer paid the whispered words no mind as the concerns of a love-struck couple were not his own.

Smokescreen listened as Tracer knelt down and told him that he had been right. The troubled femme promised that she did, in fact, trust him and that she just didn’t want to revisit her dark past as it was an unpleasant one she'd rather forget. Smokey now understood her reasoning, his anger gone as her words touched his audio receptors. She then warned him that she would act very different once the Syk was expelled from her systems. It would be a side of her that the diversion expert had never seen before. The fear in her vocal processor was clearly evident.

“We’ll find a way to help you, Tracer,” Smokescreen vowed as she looked back up into his optics while her hands remained on top of his own. “I’m not afraid of the real you. Someday, what I see now, will be the real you.” He squeezed her hands back as she then agreed with both Wheeljack and Axle that he needed more time in the CR pod. The rallybot was going to respond but was quickly cut off when Tracer placed her left hand against his cheek plate. He knew what was coming as he’d seen this look on a femme’s visage before. It had been a long time ago, but it was a look one never forgot.

Finally, after what seemed like a vorn of her gazing into his optics, Tracer leaned in and gave Smokescreen a passionate kiss on his mouth. Wheeljack couldn’t help but glance over at them for a very brief moment, shaking his head slightly at the loving display of affection. The scientist waited patiently for the pair to finish their embrace, but when it didn’t come quite fast enough, the white mech had no choice but to end it, himself.

“Okay, you two, we gotta get Smokey into the CR pod now before his systems shut down,” Wheeljack interjected, not wanting to come across as being rude.

Hearing the engineer’s plea, Smokescreen slowly pulled back, not wanting the kiss to end but knowing that it had to. “All right, ‘Jack, we’re done,” the diversion expert replied without taking his optics off of Tracer. The rallybot smiled at her again as he felt Wheeljack grab a hold of his right arm and help him up to his feet.

“Tracer, grab his other arm please,” the Autobot inventor asked as he motioned towards the CR pod. “Thankfully, we don’t have far to go.” With the troubled femme’s assistance, Wheeljack guided Smokescreen over to the pod and held onto him tightly as the unpainted mech carefully stepped into the open CR unit. Once the rallybot was back inside and secured, the engineer looked down at him and smiled. “Comfy?”

“I guess,” Smokescreen responded as he adjusted his position within the small space that surrounded him. For a moment, Smokey wished this was a full sized chamber where there would be more room, but at least he’d be in deep stasis for the duration of his continued healing. “Will I finally be painted when I come out?”

“Is that all you care about, Smokey?”

“Well, no, but it’s kind of embarrassing to be walking around naked in front of Tracer, you know?”

Wheeljack cast a quick glance over at the drug-addled femme before returning his disbelieving gaze back at Smokescreen. Running his hand down his faceplate, the inventor shook his head and let out a chuckle. “Yes, Smokes, you’ll be fully painted and you’ll have your precious 38s on your door wings, too. Happy?”

“Yes, thanks.”

“Good,” Wheeljack replied as he grabbed a hold of the pod’s door with his right hand. “Now, lie still. You’ll be good as new before you know it.”

“Wait!” Smokescreen exclaimed, raising his vocals slightly. He opened up a small compartment in his forearm and pulled out the vile of Syk he had been carrying since picking it up from the workbench earlier. “Take this. See if you can make more of it for me. It’s essential for Tracer’s own recovery.”

Accepting the vile from the tenacious rallybot, Wheeljack let out a quiet sigh, having known that this was coming. “I’ll do what I can, Smokey, but I’m not a chemist.”

“I know. Maybe you have a replicator around here?”

“I don’t know. I have something like that. Maybe,” Wheeljack conceded as he held on to the vile in his free hand. “I’ll need to modify it some since it was originally designed to replicate solid matter and not a chemical.”

“That’s fine, ‘Jack. Whatever you can do, I appreciate it.”

“You’ll do more than appreciate it. You’ll owe me this time!”

“I understand,” Smokescreen replied with a nod before laying his tired cranium back into the proper position.

Without wasting any more time, Wheeljack finally closed the pod’s door, allowing a hiss of air to escape. He then immediately set the repair cycle and activated the CR unit. “There, he’s all set,” the mechanical engineer stated as he looked back over at the love-struck femme. “Tracer, I need you to keep watch over him. Make sure nothing goes wrong. Okay? I’m sure you’ll have no problem handling that.”

With that said, Wheeljack turned his attention back to Axle. “If there’s nothing else you need me to do, I’m going to get to work on my replicator. I’ll see if I can adjust it to work on a narcotic like Syk.” Looking down at his side, the engineer opened up his left hand and held up the vile Smokescreen had just given him. ‘Jack studied the contents for a moment before offering it to the field medic. “You want to take a look at this, Axle? You said before that you have some knowledge of chemistry right? Any help whatsoever would be greatly appreciated.”

Wheeljack’s Lab

Had she been even been given the chance Tracer would have extended their kiss for far longer than they had been allotted. As it was Wheeljack was right and so when Smokescreen finally did pull away she relented and leaned back into her previous position. As with the rallybot, Tracer too kept her optics fixated on the mech before her. If he was to be confined within that CR pod she wanted to be sure she studied every nuance of all of his features.

From the corner of her optic Tracer could just make out the grey hand of Wheeljack as he gently wrapped it around Smokescreen’s arm and helped the unpainted mech back up to his feet. Before she was even asked the blue and white scout got back to her feet and took hold of Smokescreen’s left arm supporting the mech as best she could. He was not heavy but with the Syk already running its course the strength she once possessed was steadily depleting.

The femme had remained quiet as the two good friends conversed about what Wheeljack conjectured as nothing more than something cosmetic. Smokescreen, on the other hand was adamant that his paintjob be completed as soon as possible. The comment concerning his walking around naked in front of her was just too humorous not to comment on.

“I won’t tell anyone if you won’t.”

Tracer let out a quiet chuckle as she looked down at Smokescreen who was still trying to settle into the tight confines of the CR pod. How Wheeljack could stand using that thing was beyond her. As it was the rallybot had to not only contend with the slim side, but also the fact that he had barely enough room to lie down what with the space needed to flatten his doorwings. She could only imagine just how uncomfortable he must be.

After the exchange between the two old friends and when Wheeljack had taken hold of the pod’s door, Tracer took a step back ready to watch as stasis took Smokescreen away temporarily. The sudden cry from the pod had her moving forward again…her hands gripping the opening. It didn’t surprise he that the mech that had always taken care of her was still doing so even when it was he who needed to be taken care of.

Tracer paid no attention to the vial that had exchanged hands…instead she kept her sole focus on Smokescreen. Even as the door was finally closed over the prone ‘Bot Tracer kept watch. She placed a hand carefully over the glass that was fixed directly over Smokescreen’s upper body. Even if Wheeljack hadn’t suggested it she would still have remained behind to watch over him.

“Don’t worry, Wheeljack. I’m not going anywhere until he gets out.”

She spared a quick glance over her shoulder at the engineer whose form was already deteriorating into a slight blurry smudge in her optics. Tracer looked back down to the pod and ran her fingers lightly across the glass surface a delicate smile on her face.
Axle had been watching the whole display and had kept his vocalizer on mute for as long as he possibly could. As touching as the scene had been it didn’t get any of them closer to a solution to the problem at hand.

“Ugh. Those two have got it bad.”

The medic shook his head slightly…a slight smirk plastered on his face. He looked up at Wheeljack and widened his smile. They had all been through a lot, but none more than the engineer. Not only was he thrust into helping save his good friend’s life but he was now thrust into saving another life.

“No, ‘Jack. You can go ahead and get to work on your replicator.”

Axle then took the proffered vial and went through the same motions as the white mech before him…the field medic lifted the container and swirled the liquid around before lowering it and looking back to Wheeljack.

“Yeah. Basic as in whatever was taught at the DMF. There was never much offered in terms of major medical chemistry. Deltaran Medical Facility…a great place to work...just don’t count on learning anything useful. Heh.”

The field medic let out a disgruntled sigh as he moved to a free spot on the workbench and went straight to work rummaging through the contents of the storage bins and cabinets for everything he would need in order to figure out just what the concoction consisted of.

“Let’s see here. Ah! You do have one.”

Axle took hold of the electron microscope that had been stored neatly in the back of one of the storage cabinets that sat at the back of the lab. Some more searching and Axle had gathered a table full of equipment…some would need to be used as improvised tools, others were just what he had been looking for.

A sample of the Syk was taken and promptly mounted on a slide and placed beneath the scope’s lenses. Axle then took a look at exactly what he had.

“You know, I never really asked you if I could actually call you ‘Jack, Wheeljack. I mean you and I had never met before our…well, before all this.”

He gave a slight shrug while his optics were still glued to the scope’s end. The determination of which compounds that made up the narcotic wouldn’t take very long…it was the synthesis, or rather the reverse engineering…unless Wheeljack had gotten his replicator to work…that would take a fair amount of time.

“Well now. This is really…disturbing. That explains the deterioration of the optic housing. A derivative of fluoroantimonic acid.”

Axle let out a low sigh. The findings were not what he had expected. The mixture of compounds was not what the field medic had wanted to find, but they would have to work with it.

“Looks like there are between two to three varieties of circuit speeders, and that’s not including the actual Syk. Damn, this one might be a hallucinogen. I’m guessing the dose she took before arriving back onboard didn’t contain it.”

Axle pulled away from the scope and took a hard look in Wheeljack’s direction. The scowl on the medic’s face conveyed all the ire that had recently welled up within him.

“I take it Oil Slick’s been her dealer since she began using. The ‘Con’s sick enough to include acid in his little compound experiments I wouldn’t put it past him to add the hallucinogen and the additional circuit speeders.”

His features softened as he took a gentle hold of the vial and looked back to the engineer.

“Wheeljack, we better get this right the first time. We get anything wrong and the mixture is off in any way…or the remaining sample is lost...then your friend is bound to lose his girlfriend. That doesn’t even include the possibility that if we do get it right and she’s weaned off…I can’t say for sure how she’d take it.”

Axle ran his hand down the length of his face and stood up from the stool he had been occupying. With one hand rubbing at his chin he gestured toward the pod and Tracer who was still poised over the glass.

“I don’t know anything about her underlying condition but if she was hell bent to seek out help at the Rodion Institute than I can assure you that it’s serious. No Syk might mean…well desperate people usually resort to desperate and permanent measures to stop their suffering.”

Wheeljack’s Lab

“They sure do,” Wheeljack replied to Axle’s comment regarding Smokescreen and Tracer before his face shield slid shut again, covering a grinning visage from sight. “Good thing Smokey didn’t die or there’d be no helping her no matter what we tried.” The mechanical engineer then nodded as the field medic gave him the go ahead to begin working on his replicator. First, however, he needed to find it amongst all of his tools, equipment and other assorted gadgets, both completed and half-finished inventions of his own making. It shouldn’t be too difficult, however, as the device in question is not very small, but it’s also not huge, either.

As Axle commented about the Deltaran Medical Facility where he picked up his basic knowledge of chemistry from, Wheeljack moved across his lab to a far corner and began searching through one of his storage closets. Moving a variety of things aside, some of which was just useless junk, 'Jack finally found what he was looking for. “Ah, there you are!” The scientist exclaimed as he reached down and carefully lifted the portable replicator up in his arms and carried it back out into the main lab area. It was heavier than he had remembered, but it was nothing that the white mech couldn’t handle.

Placing the cylinder-shaped unit onto the floor, Wheeljack squatted next to it for a moment, carefully looking it over for any signs of outward damage or decay from being in storage for so long. It appeared to be in perfect working order, but that was of little comfort as the device was originally designed to replicate tools and machine parts, not chemicals or drugs of any kind. The engineer would have to modify it considerably for it to have the ability to create more Syk for the drug-addled femme.

Hearing the field medic ask him about his nick name, Wheeljack glanced over at the former doctor and smiled under his face shield. “Of course, you can call me ‘Jack. Everyone does.” The scientist chuckled before returning his attention to the replicator, accessing a side panel and taking a peek within to see exactly what needed to be re-routed, added or subtracted, if he was going to make this idea work. It would be difficult but not impossible, or so the engineer thought.

While Wheeljack studied the internal workings of the replicator, he had one audio receptor tuned in to everything Axle was saying regarding the Syk, Oil Slick and how they had to get the concoction absolutely perfect if Tracer was to benefit from the drug at all. Otherwise, the troubled femme would likely die, and it would be Smokescreen that was left without his mate. “Well, I don’t know how long he’s been her dealer, but Slick’s one sick fragger that’s for certain. Regardless, if this drug needs to be perfect, then I’ll need you to identify every ingredient within that vile, no matter how small, so that I may program each element into my replicator here. I’ll also need to know the exact percentage of each component in order to avoid an overdose.”

The mechanical engineer paused for a moment to consider what he was about to suggest. “Although, if there is a hallucinogen included like you say, then perhaps we should consider leaving that part out. I mean, she’s clearly not hallucinating now, so she doesn’t really need that bit for the drug to be effective. I just think it's a bad idea to give her something that will make her see things that aren't there. She's got enough problems as is. Of course, it’s just an idea. Whatever you think is best, Axle.”

With that said, Wheeljack lifted the replicator off the ground and carried it over to the nearest workbench where he gently placed it down. Now sitting at chest level, the cylinder-shaped device was in a perfect position for the Autobot scientist to do his thing. He waited to begin, however, as the field medic expressed more concerns regarding how Tracer will act once she is finally weaned off the Syk. It was certainly a concern in the back of his processor, but not one the inventor wanted to think about right now.

"I'll worry about that when or if it happens. For now, I'm just going to focus on reconfiguring my replicator so that it can handle chemical reproduction as well as solid matter while you’re working on dissecting that sickening brew,” the engineer informed his medical comrade as he pulled up a stool and sat down in front of the unit. Wheeljack then opened the side access panel once more and grabbed a couple of items from his trusty toolkit before going to work on the reconfiguration that would change the very nature of the replicator to suit his current needs. Or, as was the case in this situation, Tracer’s needs.

Forward Observation Lounge

Nova Strike pressed the activation pad off to the right of the orange double doors. He waited briefly and patiently as the computer authorized his transfer to the new command system. To his right and down the elevated walkway at the end of the internal spine avenue was the spacious bridge of the Ark Class multiple purpose heavy star ship. The bridge was manned by a skeletal crew, its main deck officer down on the primary command deck maintaining the tedious task of basic command duties. Inwardly Nova smirked, at least he knew he would never be given the punishment task of commanding such a large battle wagon, or even a small corvette in this war. Rangers rarely lived long enough to rise that high in the ranks, and further more what need did he have for naval command?

Turning his attention back to the computer panel he reentered his codes and this time pounded the activation toggle with his closed fist. A sputter of static and a blip of authorization, followed by a sputtering smoldering wisp of smoke brought the door back online. The hydraulics pulled the doors back into the bulkhead with a muted strain.

The ranger stepped over the threshold and allowed his optics to readjust to the dimmer light of the observation lounge and the large blue orb that hung behind the distinct image of Ultra Magnus who stood peering out into the day night terminus. Between he and the new sector commander was a large oval table who's center was carved out and replaced by a holographic generator. "Nova Strike...." He started as the doors closed behind him. "Reporting as ordered."

"Oh great, so we get another hotshot racer bot to grace us with his presence." The ranger's optics darted over towards a shaded portion of the lounge and caught the familiar glint of the golden head of the loud mouthed Aerialbot.

"Enough Slingshot." Ultra Magnus ordered without the benefit of turning to face either of them. "Welcome Nova Strike, have a seat. We will begin when Prowl and the others arrive."

Nova Strike nodded and took a seat opposite that of Slingshot, a quarter of the way between himself and the star field. "Thank you commander. Though I am not sure why I am being included in a scouting mission. Not exactly my specialty... course if we find a Decepticon camp down there..."

The voice was left hanging as the double doors slid open again to reveal the next stage of operatives destined to investigate Earth for a new colony.

Forward Observation Lounge

Prowl had traversed the corridors of the Ark-22 without much difficulty, knowing the basic layout of an Ark class vessel like the back of his hand. During the course of his travel, the black and white briefly considered stopping by Wheeljack’s lab to check up on the progress of Smokescreen’s recovery, but ultimately decided against it. The analyst had already wasted too much time with side issues as it were, and he cared not to have any more pop up unexpectedly. The diversion expert was in good hands and needed no interference from a high ranking mech that most considered to be nothing more than an unwanted nuisance.

The Observation Lounge at the very front of the Autobot vessel was Prowl’s immediate destination. That’s where Ultra Magnus had signaled the scouting team to meet him, a place where they could sit and relax as the upcoming mission was discussed. The military strategist could understand the City Commander’s desire to rendezvous somewhere like that, but it could become distracting, as well. The admittedly beautiful views of the planet below along with the more comfortable seating were in direct contrast with that of a simple conference room where the chairs were hard and the view sorely lacking. Neither of those things were really required for a mission briefing as their attentions needed to be on the tasks ahead and not on the scenery.

Be as it may, Prowl approached the large double doors of the lounge, which parted down the center to reveal the spacious area within. Nova Strike and Slingshot were already there waiting for the briefing to begin while Ultra Magnus stood over by the large window, staring down at their intended destination below. The military strategist regarded both the Aerialbot and the ranger with a curt nod before crossing the distance between himself and the City Commander.

“Reporting as ordered, Commander Magnus. Sorry for the delay in my arrival,” Prowl apologized with the appropriate salute as he stood at attention next to the taller Autobot. The black and white then pulled out a datapad and handed it to Ultra Magnus. “This is my detailed report regarding the upcoming scouting mission. Silverbolt was of great assistance to the planning of said operation. I will give a full verbal rundown of its contents once everyone else arrives, sir. In addition, my medical check-up went smoothly, and I believe the others can say the same about their own exams, as well.”

Prowl remained at attention, not wanting to presume to take a seat at the large oval table without being granted permission from the new sector commander. The analyst’s role had changed dramatically over the past several solar cycles. Thankfully, he was now back to doing what he did best - strategizing. Of course, while the black and white would call it that, others might call it something else - manipulating. Regardless, Prowl now felt more at ease with his part to play in the overall Autobot war effort, and he wasn’t going to let anything stop him from doing what was necessary to win this eternal conflict.

Wheeljack’s Lab

Axle had placed his optics over the eye pieces that adorned the top of the electron microscope. It would take a considerable amount of time for him to extract each and every one of the chemicals that Oil Slick had so lovingly united. He had no clue as to just what was swirling throughout the mixture, but that only meant he simply needed to take his tome and be as though rough as he possibly could. And his first order of business was determining whether or not the hallucinogen that was found in the current narcotic was present in the narcotic already used by the addicted femme.

“I’ll need a sample of her energon if I want to ultimately determine just which and in what dosages these chemicals were used.”

He finally pulled his head up and cast an uncertain look in Wheeljack’s direction. Although the engineer was currently engrossed in his own world and work and had probably not heard a word the medic had said, Axle still felt it comforting to actually voice his concerns. It was something he got used to doing when Hex was around. The little pit stain hardly ever listened let alone paid attention but at the very least he was a constant presence.

The corners of his mouth curled ever so slightly as he watched Wheeljack put his all into reworking his own precarious invention. With any luck this would be one of the scientist’s crowning moments.

Axle quietly shook his head and glanced over the top of the workbench where an assortment of tools and devices were strewn. He’d need to straighten that mess up soon. With the wanted piece located Axle took hold of the device’s handle and stood from his stool. He took another quick look in the busy Wheeljack’s location and then turned and started toward Tracer.
____

She made sure that at least part of her was in constant contact with the CR pod. She wanted no space, in any fashion, to come between her and Smokescreen. It was her right hand that was now pressed lightly against the glass on the top of the pod. At the first sign of any growing condensation Tracer would gently swipe her had across the window removing it just so the mech’s face within remained unobstructed.

It hadn’t been long since Smokescreen was reintroduced to the inside of the pod. Even though he was still in plain view it still felt like those first few vorns they had been apart. It took time but she finally fell into a routine that helped her to cope while they on different sides of the galaxy. But this…this was just cruelty rearing its ugly head.

“I should have told you. I should have said something back then. I never wanted to hurt you. I never wanted you to think I didn’t trust you.”

Tracer let out a low sign as she ran her hand across the glass again removing the small accumulation of water droplets. She had always trusted him. After all she was the one who went along with him even after he caught her trying to swipe those chips. She never even hesitated….she just trusted him…it felt right…normal.

“I never planned on any of this. All I planned on was you and I…after this damned war.”

The sound of movement behind her had already been detected before Axle had even made it within five feet of her. The medic had raised his hand to his mouth after overhearing a last bit of what the femme had confessed but he was quickly cut off by her slightly off key voice.

“What is it, Axle?”

Axle shook his head remembering that the blue and white ‘Bot was a scout by function and was more than capable of processing sound much faster than most. He clamped his mouth shut for a moment as he tried to come up with something to say that didn’t involve what he had inadvertently overheard.

“I’m sorry, Tracer, but I’m going to need a sample of your energon. It’s necessary if I’m going to…”

The femme raised a hand stopping the medic before he finished. She already knew what he wanted and what it was for. And she was ready to give it up. Finally, for the first time since he had stepped up to her, and the occupied pod, Tracer turned around to face him. Her soft features were adorned by a troubled expression…her optics almost too bright to render a proper blue hue.

She tried to put up a front by forcing a small smile but it failed miserably. She offered Axle a slight nod and turned her head to the right giving him full view, and more importantly access to her main energon line.

Axle returned her apprehensive smile and small nod while he set to work removing precisely what he needed.

“He’ll be out soon.”

“I know. And don’t worry…I don’t mind that you overheard.”

Axle shifted uneasily on his feet…rocking slightly from side to side while attempting to keep the syringe from being jarred out of place.

“Uh…well….I didn’t mean to intrude.”

There was a long silence which just made Axle all that more uncomfortable before the femme spoke up again.

“After. After everything’s over.”

The medic wasn’t sure what she had meant but he had no time to start up a conversation that concerned her and Smokescreen and their complicated future after the war…besides he had his own plans for when that time came. Axle pulled the syringe out carefully once he had enough of the liquid that ran throughout her body and gave her a reassuring smile and a firm squeeze on her shoulder.
____

The smile that had graced Axle’s visage vanished while he watched Tracer turn her attention back to the CR pod and he made his way back to his workbench where he set the vial of energon down. He let out a heavy sigh as he took a small sample and placed it on an examination slide. The medic then placed the sample under the scope and began the process of taking the necessary readings…meticulously recording everything that popped up on the HUD in the eyepieces.

“I don’t think I’ll ever understand romantic relationships. They’re more trouble than they’re worth…sometimes.”

Wheeljack’s Lab

Wheeljack remained focused on the task at hand, his audio receptors only catching a little bit of what Axle was now saying. Something about taking an energon sample from Tracer. Yeah, good luck with that. The mad scientist was happy to be dealing with inanimate, non-sentient objects once again without the worry of how a certain troubled femme would react to what he was doing. The replicator made no arguments or complaints or other small talk. It was silent, allowing the mechanical engineer to perform his job and quickly. It was just how he liked to work.

After a few straight breems of intense work, Wheeljack soldered the last two new connections together before setting his tools down onto the workbench. He then replaced the side access cover and stood up from his stool, stretching his arm joints and servos in the process. “There, that should about do it,” the white mech muttered quietly to himself, confident that at least the hardware portion of the modifications was now complete. All that was left was the software aspect of the replicator and then it should work...hopefully.

Attaching a cable to the back of the replicator, Wheeljack connected the other end to the side of a nearby terminal, granting him entry into the hard drive and internal operating system of the device. He immediately went to work on reprogramming his invention to accept the physical changes that had just been made as well as adding two new subroutines, one that would allow for chemicals of any kind to be reproduced and the other to allow the machine to scan and analyze the intended object for replication. That way ‘Jack didn’t have to manually program each element into the device, himself. I should’ve thought of that before.

It took another breem for the revisions in the software to be completed and also acknowledged by the replicator’s on board computer. Once finished, the mechanical engineer disconnected the cable and looked over at Axle, who had just muttered something regarding romantic relationships. “Yeah, I don’t get ‘em either,” Wheeljack replied with a chuckle, wiping his actuators clean with a rag before tossing it aside. “Well, I’ve finished the modifications to my replicator. It should be able to handle the reproduction of chemicals now. I also added the ability for it to scan and analyze the object, chemical or otherwise, that is intended for replication. Thus, you don’t really have to break down each ingredient of the Syk anymore. However, I still suggest trying to rid the concoction of the hallucinogen element if possible. In the meantime, I’ll begin the testing phase and see if I can reproduce something simple at first before trying a more complex chemical.”

Without another word, Wheeljack moved across the room and retrieved a flask of a harmless liquid solvent that the scientist primarily used to clean his tools and equipment. This should do just fine, the Autobot inventor thought as he regarded the chemical in his hand for an astrosecond before moving back over to the replicator. Tapping a green button on the side of the device, a clear panel slid open which allowed ‘Jack to place the flask within the machine. Once the scientist had removed his hand, the small panel closed again and locked into place. The engineer then initiated the scan cycle and watched as a beam of light cascaded across the flask in a brilliant display, recording every element of both the glass container and the solvent that it contained. Once that was completed, Wheeljack removed the flask from the replicator and then set the device for its final cycle - replication.

“Okay, here it goes,” Wheeljack said, taking a deep intake of air into his systems before sparing a quick glance over at Axle. “Actuators crossed.” Without further delay, the mad scientist activated the replicator and watched as more light filled the empty chamber within. Soon he would know if his modifications had actually worked or whether his invention would simply explode in his faceplate like so many before. I hope Smokey’s almost done in there, ‘cause I may need that CR pod sooner rather than later. Heh.

Science Lab

At the very least Ultra Magnus was not Prowl…and for all of the Autobots recently stationed in this quadrant that was reassuring, however the Duly Appointed Enforcer of the Tyrest Accord was just as much a slave to protocol as the strategist. Bothersome to say the least.

Perceptor listened quietly to the acting Commander’s worries and explanations without interrupting. Primus knew just how much wished to counter Magnus’ arguments the scientist remained stoic.

As soon as his lecture was concluded Perceptor made certain to acknowledge Ultra Magnus as though he took everything that was said to heart. But he knew that without testing performed with the first sample he was able to successfully refine he would never be able to further his progress. If that happened and Shockwave was able to progress unhindered the war’s outcome will surely be tipped in the Decepticons’ favor. That could not be allowed to happen.

“Of course, sir. I will do everything in my power to move the project along as swiftly and proficiently as possible.”

Without further ado Ultra Magnus left the lab and moved on to his next assignment…something concerning a scouting mission.

“Prime would not allow it…initially, but if there were a possibility that the testing and the results were to save lives he certainly would not hesitate to sanction it.”

Turning from the door, the scientist turned sniper moved back to his work station and resumed his work…musing out loud in his normal fashion.

“What is the loss of one life if that life was given up to save millions of others?”

Perceptor stopped his work and took hold of the beaker that Magnus had been holding just moments before. His image had been blurred in the Commander’s eyes, but it was also blurred to him…things had changed and so had he. He now had two functions…and if truth be told he now held another…potential sacrifice for the good of his race.

(OOC: I abhor doing this, but I had to split this post from my Perceptor one only because I usually post monsters in ‘Jack’s lab. I hope I never have to do this again…it saddens me.)

Wheeljack’s Lab

This was tedious. The whole reverse engineering thing. Axle wasn’t sure who had the easier job…Wheeljack and his reworking of his own invention or him with the proverbial chemical dissection. But at this point it time it really made little difference.

After a few breems Axle took his optics away from the eye pieces and settled down on the stool. Contrary to popular belief robots were subject to kinked wires and stuck pistons, and this point the medic believed he had both.

With a slight grunt of discomfort Axle ran his hand over the small of his back and pressed his chest forward. The stretch felt good but he knew before long the kink and the slight pain would return once he started back up.

“This little side job is gonna be the death of me.”

He let out a disgruntled sigh while shaking his head and then leaned back down to continue where he had left off. Axle kept his focus on the small sample he had under the scope even when Wheeljack had announced that he had completed the reconfiguration of his invention. Thank the Matrix.

“That’s great…uh…'Jack.”

When the engineer mentioned that the breakdown of the sample chemicals by hand was no longer necessary Axle pulled his head away from the scope and looked to the white masked mech. That was possibly THE best news he had heard since before he’d been brought in on this project.

“Well, now that’s great news I was already developing optic strain.”

His cheerful expression faded, however, when he heard Wheeljack’s suggestion that they exclude the addition of the hallucinogen. If only that were possible. Axle looked down at the datapad he had been using while studying the sample. It contained the complete list of chemicals and their dose level, and on the bottom of the list was that damned hallucinogen. The dosage was still unknown.

“I’d love to keep it out, Wheeljack, but the sample I extracted from Tracer shows that it’d already been introduced with the last Syk push. It’s not a lot but it’s still enough to cause severe adverse effects if left out completely.”

The sound of the replicator’s door shutting caught Axle’s attention making the medic spin around so as not to miss the test run of the inventor’s contraption. He even made sure to follow Wheeljack’s instructions and actually crossed his actuators.

“Um…’Jack…is it supposed to be making that noise?”

Axle stood up quickly and took a tentative step toward the device and the scientist. If this thing was going to explode it would be best to be as close as possible to its intended victim. Quick medical intervention was a high possibility.

“Wheeljack! If this thing blows up I’m gonna kill you!”