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I love how Soundwave is brought into this and he's written perfectly...logical and dry as ever.

The banter between clashing personalities never ceases to make me LoL...literally out loud too, not just internet LoL.

Can't wait to see how this ends! You two are a dangerous mix, but in the best way possible.

Thank Toyz glad you're enjoying it

Ironhide was a little surprised the jet wasn’t whining. In fact, he was almost getting worried. The larger mech shivered, hard enough to rattle his frame, curled into a ball. A very large ball, but a ball. Ironhide was doing miles better, himself.

“You okay?”

“I am…marginally functional, human,” He flailed his gun in a large circle. “Do not try to attack me, Autobot. My targeting system is still online.”

“Not doing so good myself,” Ironhide admitted. “Maybe that was a bad idea.”

“It was the human’s idea,” Starscream muttered, as a way of saying ‘of course it was a bad idea’.” Another shiver racked him.

“Are you in pain, Starscream?” Nadya felt helpless. She should have figured that the gas would affect them. Nothing could be that cold and not have some impact on the mechs. Gently she placed a warm hand on his freezing leg. “I’m sorry Starscream, I should have known better about the effect of the geyser. I grew up in one of the coldest places on the planet. Got lost in a blizzard once, I was found half dead in a snow drift. All I remember is the cold and how it gets everywhere, one of the most painful, scariest things I’ve ever felt.”

“Oh that’s some good comforting. Are you trying to make him panic?” Ironhide grumbled.

“I’m just saying that I know how you feel, I wish I could help. I’m sorry I did this to you.”

“Unimportant,” the jet snapped. His turbines fired in irritation. Nadya felt a gush of hot air wash over her.

“That’s it!” Nadya said. “Can you burn your engines hot? If they generate enough heat into the surrounding area, couldn’t that help raise your internal temperature?”

The jet grumbled something about ‘another’ human plan, but he ignited his engines. Ironhide dragged himself closer to the jet’s back. Nadya could feel the heat through her space suit. This had to be helping. She watched as Ironhide slowly stopped shivering, and straightened up from his frozen hunch. “Better?” she asked the jet.

“No.” He cut off his engines.

“I thought you were supposed to handle extremes of temperature,” Ironhide said—the damn jet just wanted to whine again, he thought.

“Seekers have additional heat shielding than other mechs. That makes us able to survive at extremes of temperature, yes. But only in our vehicle modes. I was half-transformed to be able to grab you.”

“So this is somehow my fault?”

“And the human’s. I suspect that she, at least, is not enjoying my suffering.” He made a strangled sound in his throat. The shakes seemed to be getting worse.

“Oh look,” Ironhide said, catching the bobbling flicker of headlamps from down the tunnel. “The happy family reunited.”

“Can’t express my joy at seeing you again,” Barricade muttered, limping along behind Prowl. “What sort of perversion did we walk in on here?”

“You wish,” Starscream muttered.

“Yeah, I do. Would be a pleasant change from all this misfortune the Autobots seem to drag in their wake. That only splashes on us.”

“Starscream got hit pretty hard by the geyser blast,” Nadya explained to Prowl, who was at least pretending to listen. “Ironhide too, but Starscream’s engines warmed him up.”

Barricade crossed over to the jet. “Me,” he announced, so Starscream wouldn’t—he hoped—freak out and whack him. He recognized the greyish haze of the freeze from his own joints and legs. But several of the lines seemed to bulge, as if the coolant or liquid in them had gone sludgy hard. He tapped his comm.

“Blackout,” the copter acknowledged.

“Go hot,” Barricade said. “Got a question or two for Dr Slice and Dice.”

“What does that blasted mech want now?” Ratchet’s voice came over.

“Hypothetical question: suppose a bot got hit good and hard by that geyser stuff. What would happen?”

A pause. “Thought I explained that to you, Blackout. Figured first thing you’d do is chitchat to your little friend.”

“Oh he was going to,” Barricade said, resenting the ‘little’ friend bit, “But he got distracted talking about the hot way your aft moves when you walk.”

“Cade,” Blackout said, warningly.

“Do not call me that! I hate it when anyone calls me that!” He could hear the suppressed snickers from both sides of the line. “Can we get back on topic? Trying to increase my medical knowledge here.”

“As I told your galoot,” Ratchet said, “Could be anything from circuit-stalls to, well…let’s just say you don’t want it to hit the spark chamber.”

Barricade swore.

“Everything okay, Cady-pants?” Blackout asked.

“Shut up. Got to do something I already regret. About which you will hopefully never learn.” He cut comm. with a sharp snap. “All right,” he said, “Fire your engines.”

“We have already attempted that.” But the jet obediently hit his ignition.

“Don’t think you’ve tried this.” He tossed the Neptunium pack down by Nadya and, as they watched, walked under the jet’s engines. “This, incidentally,” he announced, “sucks.” He waited until his heat sinks teetered on shutdown, and came out. “All right, flyboy. Let’s see your spark chamber.”

“What?!” the jet screeched. “I am a nice bot. I do not do that sort of thing! And not with you! And there’s an audience!”

“Shut up, crack your chest. Or I’ll do it for you.”

The jet slumped back, his engines dying down. As they watched, he slowly retracted his armor and secondary systems, revealing a hexagonally shaped chamber. “This,” he said, “is the paramount humiliation. I do not think things can go any lower than this.”

“Oh, this is a real treat for me,” Barricade snapped. He reached up and lay his heated hands and forearms along the length of the chamber. The jet gasped, and, rocking back, snatched the smaller bot, still burning hot to the touch, to his chest, curling his arms and legs around him.

They sat like that for a long time, the jet curled around the smaller bot, like a child with a stuffed animal. Long enough that Ironhide muttered, “Well, this is awkward.”

“Is this how they have sex or something?” Stokes asked.

Nadya glared at him. “How should I know?”

“Will Barricade be okay?”

“Barricade,” the bot’s voice was muffled against the jet’s chest, “Is unfortunately fine. His sincerest prayers of dying so as not to have to live with this moment in his memory have gone unanswered.”

The jet pulled away slowly, his armor sliding back into place. He still shivered from time to time, but he no longer looked shocky. “Thank you, Barricade,” he said.

“Leave me alone,” the Decepticon said, sourly, shaking off the jet’s hands. “Didn’t want to be stuck alone with these fraggin’ morons.”

“Hey, wait. That’s right!” Stokes said. “Where’s Dead End?”

Warning: Detecting traces of slash!

LoL moment: “Oh look,” Ironhide said, catching the bobbling flicker of headlamps from down the tunnel. “The happy family reunited.”

“Can’t express my joy at seeing you again,” Barricade muttered, limping along behind Prowl. “What sort of perversion did we walk in on here?”


Dammit I love bot/con banter!

Surface:

Blackout was left a little perturbed by Barricade’s abrupt comm. cut off. Ratchet was watching him curiously.

“Who got hit?”

Blackout looked up at the unexpected question. He found Ratchet looking at him.

“None of your business,” he snapped, only after the words had left his processor realizing how stupid it sounded. His concern was making Blackout more than a little irritable. Constant surveillance, these fraggin’ Autobots. Copter couldn’t get a moment to himself.

Ratchet sighed and without warning placed a sympathetic hand onto Blackout’s shoulders, who barely felt the light gesture.

“Barricade seems to have sense, whoever it is I’m sure they’ll be fine.” He spoke softly. Then the hand was gone. Ratchet had moved back to checking on Prime. Blackout gathered himself for a moment. Curse his concern, he did not want nor need any Autobot sympathies. And maybe he hated to admit it, but hearing it from Ratchet made him feel better. A little surprised that the damn ‘bot had a nice thing to say, period. And about Barricade, no less.

Prime was being forced to stay seated by Ratchet, much to the amusement of the ever bouncy yellow ‘bot. Blackout rolled his optics at the retarded scene in front of him. This was no way to lead—overruled by your bossy medic, mocked by your mute droneling.

“Ratchet I’m fine, now please just let me stand up.” Optimus was frustrated and weary. Ratchet however was fiercely determined to get his own way. They both knew at some level Ratchet was right. Prime was just less happy about it.

“If you don’t at least rest for a fraggin’ minute I am going to stasis lock you. It’s your own damn fault your wound is this bad in the first place.”

He was waving one of his tools around animatedly as he spoke. Much to Blackout’s discomfort. It was a little better not being pointed at him, but he felt queasy at the thought of seeing another bot—even an Autobot—sliced open in front of him. Prime made one last attempt to get to his feet, finding Ratchet’s right hand pressed firmly on his chest, his left held just to the left of his helm. Ratchet was holding a small tool that he’d whipped out of nowhere.

“Just give me a reason, Prime.” Ratchet warned calmly.

“Ratchet!” Optimus glared at him, Ratchet did not back down. Prime found himself pushed back down to his aft and there he reluctantly stayed. If Blackout didn’t know any better he would have sworn that the Autobot leader was actually sulking.

“Spa day going to be over any time soon, ladies?” They both turned to glower at him. “While I’d love to see that little tool he’s got demo’d on you, so I could know how it works when I knock him cold and steal it from him, it seems to me we should have other priorities than Prime’s beauty rest?”

They looked shocked.

“What?” Blackout asked. “I’m the bad guy, right? No good without an evil plan.”

Ratchet muttered, “You’re not supposed to tell anyone your plan, you idiot.”

Blackout grinned. “You complaining that I’m actually not a very good bad guy or is this just more of your usual ‘shooting down any plan the copter has’?”

Prime sighed, a little relieved that some of Ratchet’s attention had been diverted to the Decepticon. “Blackout’s got a point. We need a plan.”

Ratchet huffed. “I would not recommend using the geysers. Exposure for more than a few seconds would cause irreparable damage. It wouldn’t be about having my work cut out for me. It’d be about who reached the surface first and even then I can’t guarantee I could save them.” He shook his head as he finished. “Optimus, there is only a 5% chance that any of them will survive if my internal calculations based on my scans of the geysers are correct. The humans however, won’t stand any chance. I won’t be able to save them.”

“Awww, that’d be a loss.” Blackout said.

“They matter, Blackout,” Ratchet retorted.

“To YOU, maybe.”

“Yeah, to me. And guess what, ‘con? I’m the only one who could—could—help your friends.” Blackout blinked in surprise. Was that a threat? The medic would really refuse to treat an injured bot? He sent a silent prayer of thanksgiving up to Primus that his side, at least, had repair bots. Dumb little things, but they couldn’t walk past an injured bot without at least trying.

“Could have your ship blast a hole through some of the thinner stuff.”

“Cave the whole place in? Good plan.” Ratchet huffed again. He was losing patience with this Decepticon. Why hadn’t he offlined the ‘con’s vocal processors when he had the chance?

“Controlled thermal—could melt through the crust.”

“Take too long. Plus, sudden change in surface temperature would cause cracking along the surface.”

“So?”

Ratchet sighed. “A) we’re on the surface. B) cave in. C) could cause even more geysers.”

“You know, you could try to be more positive.”

“Positive all your ‘plans’ are going to kill everyone.”

“At least I’m making plans! All you’re doing is shooting them down. Probably the only damn thing you Autobots can actually shoot down is a fraggin’ plan!”

Optimus pushed himself up to a seated position. “Ratchet, he’s got a point. All we’ve done, this whole time, is tear down all of his ideas.”

“Because his ideas are stupid!”

Blackout growled.

Prime felt his comm. buzz. He sighed, gesturing with one hand that the two should stop arguing. At least, not right in his audio. He raised his hand to his antennae and placed it on sub voc. “Go ahead Sideswipe.”

“Sorry it took a while the tremors kept rearranging the geological outlay of the terrain. I have come up with a surface analysis. I will send it to you now. The red zones are areas where the rock is too hard and will most likely shatter if you try and place a tunnel there…”

“Sideswipe it’s looking like we can’t use the geyser plan.” Optimus cut in before he could continue. “Frag. I am out of ideas Prime. I’m sorry.”

“Not your fault Sideswipe, continue to download the scans to my cortex, I’m sure we can make use of them somehow.”

“Prime there’s something else. Soundwave has gone radio silent on me. I don’t trust him. I think he’s up to something.”

Their conversation continued for some time leaving Optimus looking a little dazed as the reams of information were downloaded into his cortex.

Bumblebee, frustrated, wandered away from the group. It was fun to watch Ratchet pick at the ‘con, but Bumblebee was kind of on the copter’s side. They needed a plan. They needed to do something. He paced himself down a slight slope and kicked a rock absently in his path. Something caught his eye. Just a quick flash as he’d kicked the rock. Walking slowly to the spot where it had landed, he gently picked up the small rock, which would be a boulder to any human. He fingered it curiously in his hands, staring at it closely. It glinted faintly in the faint light and seemed a much lighter colour than the surface around it. He continued to walk, rolling the rock over in his hands. He picked up another one, similar but this time with more of a gleam to it. Realization hit him like a slap to the face. Almost tripping himself up in his eagerness he sprinted back to the others, clutching the rocks like they were precious human lives.

Blackout was in the middle of a sentence when Bumblebee came dashing into the centre of the group, gesturing and pointing at two lumps of rock in his hand. The others just stared at him in stunned silence. Having finished his conversation, Optimus sighed as the other two continued to stare at the excited Bumblebee. “Bumblebee!” He stopped instantly and gazed expectantly towards his leader.

“Will you tell us what you’ve found, before Blackout and Ratchet decide to quiet you down permanently.”

“Be the only thing I ever collaborate on with this stupid Autobot,” Blackout snarled.

He nodded eagerly and pointed once again at the rocks in his hand. He sub voc’d Optimus ‘I think it’s Neptunium.’ Optimus took the offered rocks.

“The whole moon is full of it, Bumblebee. That’s how we ended up here.” Optimus was a little short, the sensor block that Ratchet had given him was starting to wear off, now he just ached, everywhere.

Blackout made a strange noise which almost sounded like a short laugh. “I think the yellow idiot actually just gave us something to make a new plan with.” He smirked as he buzzed Barricade.

“Hey, Cade!”

“Don’t call m…”

“Yeah, yeah… do you still have those detonators you were going to use on the human ship?”

“Maybe. Who wants to know?”

“Someone who wants to spring your aft from your perpetual, though well-deserved torment.”

“Yeah, still got ‘em.”

The copter crowed.

“Gonna tell me what this genius plan is? Or am I going to have to wait for the DVD?”

“Tell you after you tell me what you didn’t want to tell me before.”

“Not on your life.”

“Aww, come on, Cade! Show me on the dolly where the bad robot touched you.”

“One, you call me Cade one more time and I will call you ‘Blah’ for the rest of your natural cycles; and two, that damn jet is a fraggin’ perv.”

“One, ‘Blah’ doesn’t even make any fraggin’ sense, and two, kinda figured that. Oh, and three? Blackmail.”

“One, ‘Blah’ describes your personality to a T, and three, plausible deniability.”

“No two? You’re slipping up.”

“Side effect of being snuggle-monkey for a fraggin’ jet.”

At this point Prime had dropped his head into his hands in disbelief at the ‘cons conversation. Ratchet and Bumblebee were sniggering much to his irritation. The sensor block having finally worn off completely, he glared at his two subordinates with enough ire to shut them both up.

Ratchet sub voc’d Bumblebee; ‘Tell me you’re recording this conversation?’ Bumblebee answered with a nod and a suppressed snigger, hiding his mouth behind his hand as Prime shot him a warning look. He sub voc’d Ratchet. ‘I am going to ask him, might cheer him up.’ He shot a mischievous grin to the medic who shook his head sternly. ‘Don’t Bee in this mood he might actually shoot you.’ Bumblebee ignored him and sub voc’d Optimus. ‘Yes?’ He snapped sharply as Ratchet rolled his optics. Bumblebee continued barely managing to hide his smirk. ‘What’s a snuggle-monkey?’ Optimus cut him off abruptly. His expression was hard, Bumblebee instinctively shifted behind Ratchet who tensed as his leader stood. Much to his surprise he was smirking. Speaking out loud he closed his optics and shook his head. “Bumblebee I’ll let Ratchet explain it to you sometime.” He opened his optics casting a sly grin at his medic who now glared at him.
“Thank you for that Prime.” He grumbled. Optimus looked all together pleased with himself. “No problem Ratchet, no problem at all.” Blackout was still on comm. with Barricade continuing their absurd discussion.

“The image that conjures in my processor is better than any blackmail.”

Blackout cut him off abruptly and smiled at his unlikely allies. “We now have a plan B. They have a bag of that Neptunium down there don’t they? It’s purer than those rocks; it’s the stuff they mined that they salvaged from the shuttle. We can use it with Barricade’s detonators and blow them a way out.”

He stopped and folded his arms looking rather smug. Until Ratchet spoke up. “One problem ‘con.”

“Know what? A little tired of your brand of constructive criticism.”

Ratchet frowned. “How are you going to stop the explosion from starting another cave in hmmm?”

“I’m not the demo expert—but neither are you!” Blackout retorted indignantly. “Don’t see you coming up with a better plan.”

“Blackout, that might work.” Optimus interrupted.

“It will?”

“We have the geological maps that Sideswipe has given us detailing the consistency of the rock. We can use that to gauge the right area in which to set up a controlled explosion.”

Ratchet sighed. “Oh what is it now?” Blackout cried out in frustration.

“The whole moon is laced with veins of Neptunium. If we aren’t careful we could set off a chain reaction that would blow half this moon to the pits and take all of us with it.”

Blackout was annoyed at having his plan shot down again. Seems like all the ‘bots did was shoot down plans. No wonder they were always on the defensive. “Would you please take a happy pill or offline yourself or something?” He grumbled.

“Ratchet your concerns are noted but I think we have a way around that.” Optimus smiled. Bumblebee pointed to the sky. He nodded. “Sideswipe.”

Even Blackout managed a smile at the new turn of events. It would be his plan that saved them, Barricade and Starscream would have to thank him. That is if they didn’t get blown all to scrap metal. And at this point, he wasn’t really sure if he’d mind that.

He rubbed his hands together. “Well I always wanted to go out with a bang.”

Ooops, I suck. Should have posted this yesterday. Sure y'all are foaming at the mouth in rage....

******

“Well,” Barricade said, snapping off his comm, “Blackout’s clearly lost it. Latest plan is to blow us up using the neptunium and detonators.”

“I for one second this plan,” Starscream said. “This has been the worst solar of my entire onlining. I have been pawed by Autobots; had my cockpit violated by a human; my spark chamber molested by, well, YOU…. The only problem I have with dying just now is that if it had happened earlier, I would have been spared at least some of these indignities.”

“You know,” Ironhide said, acidly, “ you can die alone with your dignity right now if it means that much to you.”

“I have none left!” the jet wailed.

Barricade dropped hard on his backside. “Don’t look at me. How ‘bout our alleged and self-appointed leader?” He shot a hot look at Prowl.

Prowl frowned, but he didn’t comment. He needed to lead. Thus far it seemed he’d been letting events dictate. That was not leadership. Prime hadn’t given him guidance because he had faith that Prowl would step up and lead. “All right,” he said, slowly, “Let’s recap. Everyone’s—“

“Injured except you.” Barricade rubbed his hands down his thighs, where his paint showed heat scoring from standing under the jet’s engines.

“I am still blind. Ironhide still has problems walking, even more so. Barricade has fallen into the Slough of Despond—“

“The what?”

“Shut up, Starscream,” Barricade said, dully.

“What? I read,” Starscream replied, primly. “It is why my vocabulary is more refined than yours.” He continued, unfazed. “The humans and Prowl are fine, proving that there is neither justice nor common sense in this world. And Dead End is possibly dead. Though I admit to mixed feelings about this.”

“Only damn one of you with a decent attitude and enough sense to keep his mouth shut.”

“And who had the map.” Stokes cut in.

Prowl said, “So, what do we have to work with? Inventory.” Perhaps he’d get an idea—perhaps some of the pieces would come together.

“My one chain gun is functional and at 80% load. Both missile launchers are operational.” Prowl had to admit that despite their bad attitude, they were cooperating.

“I have a more or less useless pulse gun,” Barricade sighed, playing along, but not happy. “And a quarter cycle of chem igniting detonation cord, which thought makes Blackout dance with aroused glee.”

Starscream groaned. “Do not put that image into my head. You know my optics are offline and I cannot substitute reality.”

“Is everything perverted to you damn ‘cons?” Ironhide said, irritably.

“Whenever possible,” Barricade said. “What do you bring to this potluck of doom, honey?”

Ironhide made a face at Barricade. “Pulse cannon, duh. Want a demonstration?”

“Only if I can pick the target. What about you, O estimable Prowl? What do you have on tap other than your perpetual positive outlook?”

“I have a semi – automatic rifle that fires highly corrosive acid pellets and a pair of electrified shuriken. I lost my pulse rifle when we were caught in the cave in.”

“We’re screwed,” Barricade said.

“There you go again with the double-entendres, Barricade. And you know how uncomfortable they make Ironhide. What kind of figure of collaboration are you?” Starscream said.

“Aren’t you going to ask us?” Nadya asked.

“You, female, have the Neptunium. That’s your contribution—even though I’ve been the one carrying it. All right, other, smellier human, what do you have?”

“Acetylene torch, crow bar and some rope. I had a screwdriver, but someone took it away from me. With extreme prejudice.” He glared at Barricade.

“Human, I swear if we find ourselves in the highly unlikely situation where the door between life and death can only be jammed shut by a fraggin’ flat-head screwdriver, that at that point—and ONLY at that point—can you get huffy with me.”

“So,” Prowl said. “We have a bomb. As Blackout said. And we’re sitting in a bomb, if this Neptunium is as explosive as you say.” He turned to Nadya. “How explosive is it?”

Nadya shot a grave look at Prowl and sighed. “In its natural form it’s riddled with rock and minerals, so it’s the equivalent of 100lbs of C4.” The mechs all stared at her baffled. Stokes gave her a small nudge. “Um… yeah what she means is one of these rocks could level a small sky scraper.”

“And in its mined form?” Prowl asked quietly.

“Well this stuff is used in nuclear reactors for fission. You guys wanted it as an alternative energy source so imagine a small city flattened instead of a building.”

“One rock?”

“Yes. If we’re going to use it on this planet, we have to use a small amount. We’ll need to chip some of the rocks we have. If we ignite any of it near the veins already in the rock, we could set off a chain reaction and end up blowing this moon in half.”

“Good job I have a sharp screwdriver then … ah wait… someone lost it.” Stokes glared at Barricade who had a sudden urge to peel the skin off the smelly human’s body.

“I volunteer Ironhide to test the Neptunium, preferably in a small tunnel. Alone.” Starscream said. “It is about time he contributed something useful.”

“Ah, the venerable Decepticon volunteering system,” Barricade said.

“I would volunteer myself, of course,” the jet said, feigning innocence, “only I cannot see to ignite the detonation cord. So a good leader, in these instances,” he said, an obvious dig at Prowl, “delegates.”

“We’re not going to send anyone to their death, Starscream,” Prowl said, flatly. Stokes snickered at the jet’s crestfallen expression.

“But what about Dead End?” Stokes asked, again. A little surprised that no one seemed to care about the other ‘con.

“Oh, very well,” Starscream sighed. “Barricade?”

“Do I have to? Fine.” He reached to adjust a small node under one of his four eyes. The eye took on a whitish glow for a moment. He snapped it off. “Offline. Back that way.”

“How—what did you just do?” Stokes looked fascinated. He rubbed his hands together, wishing he had his screwdriver. And a way up the ‘con without being noticed.

“In my glamorous previous life I was a combat controller. HUD of any mission in the area.” Barricade looked thoughtful, looking up at the ceiling. He tapped his CC monitor back on. He grunted, shut it off. “No such luck,” he muttered.

“Any read at all?” Starscream asked.

“Just a vague directional They’re thatta-way.” He gestured broadly with one hand. He sighed. “Well, leader, do we go back and get Dead End?”

Despite my hangover, you still got me laughing.

“I volunteer Ironhide to test the Neptunium, preferably in a small tunnel. Alone.” Starscream said. “It is about time he contributed something useful.”

Yay another fantabulous entry to Cave In... if I do say so myself (It's like one of my favourite parts)... This was just too fun not to do to Prowl *snigger* We hope you enjoy it!

Prowl gave Barricade a dark look before turning to Stokes.

“We shall search for Dead End. Barricade, I need you to contact the surface, we’re going to need access to their maps.”

“Flowers and chocolates after this,” Barricade griped. “Tired of being used as your damn walkie.” Really didn’t need to volleyball between Prime and Prowl right now. His head was starting to hurt. He hated CC and all the bad memories. “Care to explain your plan?”

“I will when I am certain the plan is viable.” Glancing at Ironhide, Prowl frowned slightly.

“I am going to leave you alone with the ‘cons. I expect them to be here in one piece when I return.”

“Oh, delightful!” Starscream exclaimed. “Shall we be left with the disgusting humans as well?”

Barricade sniggered lightly. “Hope you’re not expecting him to be in one piece.” Prowl turned on Barricade who was slightly surprised as to how fast the tactician suddenly ended up in his face.

“If you so much as twitch a threat in his direction ‘Cade,” Barricade twitched at the nickname, his optics flashing dangerously, “then I am going to restrain you to the ground and let Nadya loose on your wiring with her trusty crowbar and acetylene torch.”

Starscream snorted as he tried to stifle his amusement. “What if I threaten him, Prowl? Will that also punish Barricade?”

“You?” Ironhide scoffed. “With your aim, you barely pose a threat to the ceiling.”

Barricade stared at the larger mech crouched in front of him. “You wouldn’t dare,” he growled. To his astonishment an evil smile broke across Prowl’s features, he leaned in closely forcing Barricade to draw back.

“Just try me.” He replied quietly. Standing once again perfectly composed, Prowl offered his hand to Stokes who climbed up. “Now I am trusting you all not to kill each other.” He made his way back into the collapsed tunnel. Ironhide glanced at Barricade.

“Well, you wanted him to be more leader like.” He smirked. Barricade glared at him.

“Oh yeah, so this is all my fault? Blame everything on the ‘con. Seems that’s how we started ourselves a war.” Barricade rolled his optics. “He is overestimating his position greatly. Trying to restrain me would prove unwise.”

Ironhide shrugged absently. “Prowl is a tactician, Barricade; he will have already figured out a hundred ways of putting you on the floor and keeping you there without too much effort.”

“Yes, well, with Barricade, that is not difficult,” Starscream said, folding his hands virtuously on his lap. “Once you have him down, he is…considerably acquiescent.”

“Oh, you’re a fine one to talk,” Barricade snapped.

Barricade turned back to Ironhide. “It’s amazing you Autobots haven’t won the war already then,” he retorted much to Ironhide’s amusement.

“Told you he doesn’t like getting close to other mechs.” He paused flashing a grin in Starscream’s direction. “Well, apart from Starscream.” Even Barricade lightened up at the Autobot’s joke as Starscream shifted uncomfortably.

“I resent the insinuation, Autobot. Though I admit that I am…alluring.”

“Well, I wouldn’t get too cozy you might make him fall for you, literally.” Ironhide chuckled to himself as Prowl returned to the cave clutching Dead End’s head under his arm.

“Ironhide, I do believe that my personal preferences are not open for discussion.”

Ironhide straightened his face and proceeded to look preoccupied in his injuries.

“Great. We have the runt’s head. So, genius, do you have a plan for getting the maps out of it?”

Prowl turned to Barricade. “Yes I do actually.”

“Oh please enlighten us wise leader.” Barricade goaded, his voice monotone, folding his arms across his chest.

Prowl glared at him, his patience fading. “I can download the maps into my cortex.”

“Why should it be you in charge of our only means of escape?” Starscream questioned agitatedly.

Prowl sighed. “We do not have time to debate the eligibility right now. Our primary concern should be finding a way out of here.”

Barricade stood, drawing closer to Prowl who visibly tensed as he approached.

“So you finally found your leader wings?”

“Barricade, we don’t have time for this.” Prowl insisted indignantly. Barricade reached for Dead End’s head, causing Prowl to step back sharply in surprise, slipping slightly on the smooth rock.

“Oh come now, cup cake, don’t be shy,” Barricade drawled as he snatched the head from Prowl’s grasp. Ironhide’s cannon could be heard arming behind them. The cave was thick with silent tension. Prowl glared at Barricade, clenching and unclenching his fists by his sides.

“Tell your henchmoron to cool his cannons. You want the maps, you need access to Useless’s cortex. You don’t think we don’t walk around with bombs in our heads for just such contingencies?” Stokes paled. “Unless you’ve got some magic head-wiring skills, and know the Decepticon disarm codes, how ‘bout you let me make sure you don’t fry your own fraggin’ cortex?” Barricade stopped. “What the hell am I saying? Should let you fry yourself, ‘xcept your hired muscle would find some way to blame me.”

Prowl shot Ironhide a stern look. Barricade circled around to the rear of the taller ‘bot, reaching up he pressed on an access panel at the base of Prowl’s helm. Prowl jolted in surprise at the touch.

“This would go a lot quicker if you hold still and sat your pretty aft down.”

“Are you downloading maps or trying to initiate a spark bond, Barricade?” Starscream enquired lightly.

“Thought you’d already claimed him for yourself.” Barricade muttered as he opened an access panel on Dead End’s head, pinned between his arm and his thigh.

“Ah yes, but I know how jealous you are of my conquests. I suspect you might try to steal one away from me one of these days.”

Ironhide couldn’t help but be amused by the baffled and uncomfortable expression crossing Prowl’s face.

“Looks like you’re hot property, Prowl,” he quipped.

“Rowr,” Barricade said, dryly, working at Dead End’s processor. “Gonna fight me for him, hot ‘bot?”

Ironhide laughed. “Pulse cannon versus…what?”

“Rapier wit.”

“I’ve got better range,” Ironhide retorted.

“Maybe I’ll just have to pine after the both of you, then.” Barricade cursed as he dropped Dead End’s head.

Prowl’s logic processors struggled to grasp the extent of innuendo and flirtatious behaviour at such an inappropriate time. Barricade’s voice drawled behind him.

“Meanwhile, you can either sit down or bend over, baby doll; you’re a little tall for my reach.”

Prowl’s processors could take no more, his optics dilated rapidly and he fell forward landing with a crash. Ironhide winced as his head hit the rock with a clang. Barricade was left in his wake, stunned. Starscream shrieked at the noise his arms reaching out instinctively. Barricade opened his arms, showing his palms. “Didn’t touch him, I swear!”

“What the…?” Nadya exclaimed in utter disbelief. Ironhide chuckled. “Saw that coming.” Barricade looked at Ironhide who proceeded to roll his optics. Barricade was a little surprised Mr. Hair Trigger hadn’t tried to blow his processor out already. “Prowl’s logic center sometimes shorts out if he’s presented with a very illogical situation. Flirting with him in our current predicament completely threw him; he’s all business when on duty.”

“Really?” Barricade answered remembering to note that little piece of information for use at a later date. The positive power of perviness. Who knew? Oh well, back to business. At least the mech wouldn’t fight him this time. Or pontificate. Frag, he hated a wordy leader.

He knelt beside the unconscious Prowl, plugging in a small wire linking Prowl’s head to Dead End’s. His fingers drummed idly on the ‘con’s head while he waited. Once the maps were uploaded, he disconnected the wires, and bowled Dead End’s head back down the darkness of the tunnel. “A great loss, Dead End,” he said, sarcastically, to the shock of the humans.

“He will be remembered, barely,” Starscream added, “and not for very much.” The two astronauts exchanged looks—these ‘cons were cold.

Gently closing Prowl’s access hatch, Barricade hit the tactician’s reset button. Groaning Prowl sat up.

“Mornin’, sunshine.” Barricade said, brightly. “How’s the extra smarts?”

Prowl frowned as he came to grips with the increase of information in his head. His voice cracked a little as he spoke. “Barricade, contact the surface, we’re going to need their help.”

Barricade’s smile faded. “Yeah, you’re welcome.”

“Um… we have another problem.” They both turned to look at Ironhide, their optics falling on the limp form of Nadya in his palm.

“What is going on?” Starscream demanded, unable to remain quiet any longer. “This is tedious. Why will no one explain anything to me?”

“The Autobot killed the female,” Barricade sounded surprised.

“I did not kill her, she passed out.”

Barricade cast a side long look at Prowl. “Quite the trend-setter, Prowl? Have to say not that fond of it. Unless, of course, you’re swooning after me.” Ironhide shot him a warning look. Just got Prowl back online. Probably not good to send him back over again.

Stokes was beside Nadya. “She has a micro leak in her suit. She’s running low on oxygen, I need to patch it up, I think I have a spare kit but I need to get her out of the suit.” He looked earnestly at Prowl who thought quickly.

“Some of our alt modes can be made airtight; we can cycle oxygen through the thin atmosphere.”

“Well someone transform then!” Stokes demanded urgently.

“I have already been violated enough for one day,” Starscream mumbled quietly. “Plus it would be difficult to raise her to the cockpit.” In a smaller voice, he added, “Plus, you did not say please.” Ironhide was injured, Prowl, frustrated, turned to Stokes and was about to transform when Barricade spoke up behind him. “Fine, but if she starts messing up the interior, she gets to suffocate.”

They all stared at the now cop car in amazement. “Barricade I can do….”

He was cut off as the door swung open. “Don’t have all day, human.” He kicked on his cycler. “What? Let Starscream have all the right to complain? And who knows what’s going to make Prowl klonk out again. Better be someone who has a proven track record of consciousness.”

“Not sanity, however,” Starscream added. “And you are such a novice at complaining that it is sometimes embarrassing to listen to you.”

Stokes moved quickly, he carried Nadya after lifting her out of the suit, and gently placed her on Barricade’s backseat. He swiftly set to work on repairs. The car door slammed shut. Barricade sealed the interior and vented in air and heat to compensate for the near vacuum. He could feel Nadya stirring as she started to come round. He growled uncomfortably.

“She’ll be fine.” Prowl rested a hand on his hood in a silent gesture of thanks. “Could you contact the surface, Barricade?”

“Great a taxi and a radio. Anything else you’d like me to do, huh? Hot breakfast? Swedish massage?”

“Blow us a way out of here,” Ironhide said.

“Don’t think I wouldn’t if I could,” Barricade sighed.

I laughed sooooo much! What a great chapter!

Still giggling over this:

Barricade opened his arms, showing his palms. “Didn’t touch him, I swear!”

“Saw that coming.” Barricade looked at Ironhide who proceeded to roll his optics. Barricade was a little surprised Mr. Hair Trigger hadn’t tried to blow his processor out already. “Prowl’s logic center sometimes shorts out if he’s presented with a very illogical situation. Flirting with him in our current predicament completely threw him; he’s all business when on duty.”

Funniest scene in the whole story.

Tough sitch here, peeps. I either post two short sections by Carriemus for your weekend and leave you hONgry, or I post those two and a superlong one I wrote which is full of ridiculousness (upon which you should and can blame me) and...post a superlong one. Oh, screw it. I love that section so much....


******
Ark:

Sideswipe was busy analyzing the geological telemetry, when the ship’s comm. buzzed.

“Prime?”

“No.” Came the eerie one tone voice. “I require an update.”

“Soundwave thought you’d headed home for a minute there.”

“Home is Cybertron that is impossible. There will be approximately three more geysers at the surface team’s last known location.”

“Thanks for the head’s up.” Sideswipe replied suspiciously. Soundwave was being uncharacteristically forthcoming. The monotonous rumble interrupted his thought processes.

“Progress of the teams on the surface?” He prompted.

****

Unbeknownst to Sideswipe currently distracted by Soundwave, Rumble had managed to slip past the ship’s sensors. He crawled deftly up the side of the ship, scanning. He found the panel he was looking for. Prying it off, his hand transformed into a singular spike which he plunged into the access panel. Closing his optics briefly he released the hatch and pushed away from the ship.

“Soundwave nanovirus has been planted.”

“Acknowledged.” Soundwave replied curtly.

“You’re welcome.” Rumble muttered as he glided back to his protector swiftly.

The ship behind him began to flicker and groan.

Sideswipe worked the controls frantically. The consoles flickered and blinked at him before going dark. He slammed a fist on the glass in frustration. Lifting his head he listened to the faint hum of the engines stutter and the stop. His capacitor plummeted in his chest.

“Oh frag.” He swore under his breath.

****

Surface:

“You know, copter’s getting a little tired of the sub voc,” Blackout said. “Don’t do it in front of you guys. And don’t give me that old ‘it’s your fault that Megatron ripped out his voice box’ thing. Doesn’t explain the rest of you.”

Bumblebee buzzed Ratchet. Now he worries about fair? Ratchet shook his head. “’Con, this isn’t a conspiracy. We’re not planning how to offline you.” He smiled, tartly. “Could have done that already if I’d wanted to.”

Blackout’s hands balled into fists. “Comforting thought.” Before he could formulate a reply, Barricade hit his comm. He sighed. “Blackout,” he acknowledged. “Tell me something good.”

“Good? All right. Found an…interesting way to knock Prowl out of action.”

“Yeah?” The surface Autobots exchanged nervous looks—had they done something to Prowl?

“Flirt with him,” Barricade said.

“Uh, no thanks,” Blackout retorted. “Not my type. You know I don’t go for grounders.”

“Ahem,” Barricade said, pointedly. “Anyway, knocked him right on his faceplate.”

“Power of your manly charms,” Blackout speculated.

“That was your excuse. Apparently, he freezes up when things get too illogical.”

The copter snorted. “He’d never last five cycles as a Decepticon.”

“Imagine him trying to stay operational during one of Megatron’s staff meetings?”

“Huh. Only way I stay online is by contemplating how to kill everyone else with what I’ve got in my storage compartments.”

“Kill me at any time—mercy killing,” Barricade said. “Still, he starts pissing me off again, I’m going to see what happens if I tongue kiss him—ow!” they heard a sharp clang.

“Sounds like someone wanted to keep the romance a secret, Barricade.”

“Why do you not tell Blackout your other secret, Barricade?” Starscream’s voice cut over. Blackout blinked. Normally Barricade kept his comm. quiet. Still, the prospect of watching Prowl squirm while he gabbed about him was probably too enticing. Barricade did have a weird sense of humor.

Barricade sighed. “Only did this because I was tired of you doing all the complaining.”

“No one believes that,” the jet replied, tartly. “I suspect this is a new kink that you are developing.”

“This I gotta hear.” Blackout grinned broadly, ignoring the Autobots’ shocked looks. Damned things got shocked so easily it was easy to ignore.

“Naked xeno in my backseat,” Barricade said, proudly. A strange, tinny voice, “She’s not naked!” Prime recognized the voice as the male astronaut’s.

“Close enough. Warm and squishy.”

“You,” Blackout said, impressed, “are a font of perversions. I can barely keep up.”

“Truer words never spoken. However, experience marred by the fact that apparently opportunities for personal hygiene for these critters limited in space.”

“You know,” they heard a faint female voice, “I’m right here.”

“Indeed I do, carrion-breath,” Barricade said. “Ought to make you tongue-kiss Prowl, if it comes down to it.”

Prime sighed. “Barricade, is there a point to this call?”

“Dunno. Just following orders like a good little Autobot. Ask Prowlimus Prime here—whoa!” Barricade’s voice continued, muffled. “Okay, you? Stop moving like that.”

Blackout started giggling. Bumblebee was…vaguely disturbed. Nothing that big and that evil-looking should giggle. Ever. “Barricade, you’ve had passengers before, haven’t you?”

“No, actually. And not naked ones. Naked squirmy ones.”

“She’s NOT naked!!” Stokes sounded horrified, regretting he’d let himself get talked into this. If Nadya were in Prowl, instead….

“Naked enough. Anyway. Seriously, you, stop moving. No, you can breathe. I guess. No sense wasting all this good atmosphere I’m making for you. So, Prime, how’s tricks on the surface?”

Silence.

“What, Blackout—did I shock them into passing out, too? I am a weapon of mass destruction.”

“No,” Blackout said. “They’re sub vocing. Again. Do it all the time. Really creepy and REALLY FRAGGIN’ RUDE!”

Prime snapped off his comm. “Blackout, I was in contact with my ship.” He frowned, darkly. “Before we got cut off, Sideswipe informed me we have more temblors on the way.”

“Cut off? What do you mean cut off?” Ironhide’s voice. Another clang, and a muffled curse from Barricade.

“Don’t hit me, you glitch. I had nothing to do with it,” the ‘con muttered.

“I suspected something like this,” Prowl said. “You said Soundwave was being helpful. Too helpful, wasn’t he? He probably used the open comm. lines to break through firewalls.”

“And you mention this…now?” Ratchet said, hotly.

“Face it, Autobot,” Barricade said. “You Eloi haven’t exactly been comm’ing us to chat. More like making sure we Morlocks haven’t offlined your guys.”

“Elois?” someone said.

“He is merely trying to prove that I am not the only one who reads,” Starscream said. “It is petty of him, no?”

“He is right, if…odd about it. You haven’t exactly been consulting with us, Optimus.” Prowl sounded unhappy. Hard to tell if he were unhappy he was agreeing with the Decepticon or unhappy with Prime.

“Yes,” Prime said, distractedly. He was worrying about Sideswipe and the others above. “Prowl, more geysers are coming.”

“You see?” Barricade said. “This is why I don’t like calling the surface. Never any good news.”

“Get to talk to me,” Blackout said, petulant. “Gets lonely up here without reasonable conversation.”

“Which is no doubt why you tried too hard to join us way back when you almost crushed us with that cave in. Really great idea, slagging the lot of us.”

“Least I’d be with you guys,” the copter muttered, frowning. Ratchet looked over at him. The damn ‘con was actually lonely. Who knew the stupid things could even make friends?

“Correction,” Starscream offered. “You would be with us and these nauseating Autobots.”

“And the humans. Starscream loves humans. Even let one of them fly him. OUCH!” Barricade swore. “Dammit, Starscream, that really fraggin’ hurt. I do have this human in here I’m trying to keep alive, you know.”

“I’m in shock he actually hit anything.” Ironhide, laughing. “Stumbling around like that.”

“At least I can stumble, you filthy Autobot. I suppose when we get moving to avoid this latest batch of geysers, I shall have to carry your poorly-balanced aft again.”

“Should have known Ironhide would join in with all this fraggin’ banter, probably told them about Prowl’s glitching battle computer.” Ratchet grumbled.

“Hey I heard that and I’ll have you know the ‘cons decided to flirt with Prowl all by themselves. It’s got nothing to do with me that they find him so damn irresistible… Ow…” Ironhide chuckled as another clang was heard through the comm.

“Ironhide!” Prowl snapped.

“I believe someone is becoming flustered.” Starscream added with enjoyment. “Is he more cute when he is flustered?”

Optimus was failing to hide his amusement at the situation and chose instead to change the subject. “Prowl you really should get your battle computer fixed.”

Prowl could be heard mumbling something impolite in the background, resulting in another chuckle this time from Barricade.

Optimus sighed deciding to ignore them. “Could we all just focus on the problem at hand, the geysers are imminent.”

“Speaking of geysers and where the frag we are: change of map reader. The intrepid and very, very sexy Prowl now has the maps.”

“Runt’s dead?” Blackout asked.

“Dead and decapitated. Lovely human custom, apparently.”

“Lasted longer than I thought. Who did the honors?”

“Stupid geyser, I guess.”

“Lame enough way to go. I’m happy with that for him.”

“Eh, would be better if he were set on fire and squealing at some point, but, can’t have everything, I guess.”

Prime interrupted. “We need your location.”

“Judging by the vague directional we got from Barricade’s HUD I can work out roughly where you are using our maps. I estimate that we are approximately 7 clicks North, North West of your current location.”

“Can you narrow down the area any Prowl?” Optimus replied, fully aware of the clipped and terse response from his SIC. Prowl was clearly not happy with him, it would have to be something he dealt with later.

“I would need additional readings from where we are now. Barricade?”

“No way.” Barricade said, flatly. “Not doing that again. Did it once. Wasn’t helpful.”

“CC?” Blackout asked, sympathetically. The other ‘con merely grunted.

The surface Autobots looked at Blackout, confused. Blackout muted his voice. “Barricade used to do Combat Control. Ugly job. Drives most mechs insane.”

“That explains a lot,” Ratchet said.

“I can tell you’re talking about me,” Barricade muttered. “Stop it. It’s tacky.”

“Just explaining why you’re—“

“Stop telling the fraggin’ enemy secrets, you moron.”

“Not really a secret,” Blackout countered. “Everyone knows, just like everyone knows about that time you—“

“Shut up. Now. I am not speaking to you again.” All the humor gone from Barricade’s voice. He cut the comm.

Blackout hung his head.

Ratchet raised his brow in surprise at the sudden turn in conversation. Even Bumblebee went quiet and looked contrite. Blackout didn’t notice Optimus approach him. Resisting the urge to place a comforting hand on the ‘cons shoulder he lowered his voice. “I am sure it’ll be alright. Probably just bad memories that he’s sensitive about.” He said, rolling his optics and mentally kicking himself for not being able to come up with a better response.

Blackout shrugged. “Don’t fraggin’ care anyway…” He grumbled quietly, his voice trailing off as his foot dug absently in the dirt.

Oh. Little sensitive, Barricade? Yikes.

Good, though.

I can't decide what to quote. The entire comm call had me giggling non-stop...I didn't want it to end. Barricade is such a damned antagonist, I love it! And the slap-fest was great! I can't stop using exclamation points!!

I keep forgetting that it's my turn to post... I am sorry... Here is a myriad of scenes for you, some surface some ship truly mixing it up for you now! Not the longest section though but lots going on.

****

Ark:

Sideswipe blinked his optics as he looked around the Ark, one by one all the lights flickered and went out. Cursing his luck, he tried in vain to communicate with the ship.

“Teletraan 1 speak to me come on, tell me what’s happening.” He jumped back as the main console sputtered and sparked in front of him. The ship groaned and creaked the entire frame shuddered as Sideswipe felt the pull of gravity from the moon below him. The entire bridge was plunged into darkness. Uttering a string of vile curses in Cybertronian, Sideswipe switched on his headlights. Feeling his way across the blackened consoles he ducked beneath one and started tugging at different wires. Pulling one free, he winced as the electricity sparked around him. Bypassing the computer’s central processor he ripped open a separate panel and stripped down another wire.

“Here goes nothing.” His voice sounded strangely loud in the dark empty bridge. Static filled his audios.

“Prime, Optimus are you there? Can you read me?” The static got louder, “Frag it!” He punched the panel repeatedly until it whined. The static changed to a loud burst before clearing.

“Optimus can you read me… please say you’re getting this…”

****

Surface:

Blackout looked up sharply as all three Autobots suddenly cried out and clutched their helm. His optics widened as a loud burst of static infiltrated all their comm. systems.

“Come in… oh for Primus’s sake, tell me you read me?!”

Sideswipe’s voice sounded unsettled and quite frustrated through the comm.

“Sideswipe… what the frag are you playing at?” Ratchet shouted over the static, all three recovering from the assault on their audios.

“…Computer’s down… completely out. I have no idea what’s going on. All power is out on the ship. It was working fine then nothing. Even the engines have cut out.”

“How is this possible?” Optimus was frowning with worry. Ratchet looked completely nonplussed.

“Not a fraggin’ clue!” Sideswipe swore irritably. “All I know is that if I can’t get engines back online, I am going to be joining you guys down there as a fiery ball of slag.”

Optimus looked to Ratchet. “Any ideas how he can get power back online?”

Ratchet drummed his fingers absently on his forearm as he thought.

“Back up generator. It’s like a circuit breaker for Teletraan 1. Shuts everything down and then reboots when you hit the master reset. Sends Teletraan’s memory banks to the pits until whatever the glitch is, is cleaned out, but allows direct link to the ship and allows it to run a self diagnostic. It should give limited power, at least to maneuver the ship to a higher orbit.”

“It should?”

“Can’t promise anything Prime. It’s never been done before. It’s a failsafe.”

“Did you copy that Sideswipe?”

“Got it, where is the reset located?”

“Lower hold of the ship, toward the rear. Near the main engine room.” Ratchet answered swiftly.

“Alright. I’ll be in touch. If not just keep your eyes peeled for a bright light in the sky. I’ll make sure to wave.” Sideswipe finished bitterly. Not liking his odds.

The comm. cut off abruptly. Optimus’s frowned deepened. “What could cause a ship wide system shutdown Ratchet?”

“Circuit failure is always possible if ship isn’t properly maintained. The other possibility is a virus of some kind uploaded into the central processor; don’t ask me where he could have picked that up from out here.”

“Alright. Well there’s nothing we can do to help at the moment, let’s focus on getting our friends back on the surface. Sideswipe thinks on his feet I am certain he’ll pull through this.” Optimus stated reassuringly, determined to focus on something they could actually deal with. If only his own doubts weren’t playing havoc with his concentration.

Blackout had listened quietly. He was tense. Glancing up to the sky as if trying to sense him, his optics narrowed. ‘What is that fragger up to now…?’ He had a bad feeling that Soundwave was behind this somehow, which would mean he was under orders. He lowered his head and cursed under his breath. This wasn’t good, not good at all.

****
Ark:

Sideswipe struggled to make his way around the bridge. His headlights only illuminated so far and he hadn’t spent as much time on this ship as the others had. Palming his hands along the bulkhead he found the exit and started making his way to the lower levels of the ship.

A small panel slid open and a small pair of red optics blinked at the retreating ‘bot. It chuckled softly before scuttling in the opposite direction.

Sideswipe hated this. Muttering to himself in annoyance, he had to admit to being ever so slightly unnerved. More than once he’d stumbled into a wall, at an unexpected corner. Surely the ship wasn’t this big! Maybe the darkness just made it seem that way. Nervously he kept glancing over his shoulder. His capacitor cycled up each time. Unsheathing his sword he tensed, he could have sworn he’d heard something behind him.

He’d never put much stock in human sayings before now but one jumped straight to mind. He had an eerie sensation he was being watched. Backing off into the wall, he took deep intakes of air and began to jog towards his destination. Deciding the quick way was the best option. Ratchet was going to kill him for this. Reaching an elevator shaft he pried open the doors. There were no cables all their elevators ran on magnets. Stabbing his sword into the wall of the shaft he swung his legs out and let go of the door using his weight to propel him towards the lower levels. Sparks flew off his sword as it gouged a deep rivet into the ship’s bulkhead. Yup if he survived this he was definitely going to be stasis locked by Ratchet.

Landing unsteadily in the darkness. He pried open the lower doors. Glancing up the tall shaft, he could have sworn he saw the shadow of movement. Shaking his head at his own paranoia. He carried on.

“Get a grip on yourself you glitch. You’re acting like a damn youngling.” He scolded himself loudly. It did not stop him from breaking out into a run. Slamming into the bulkhead he came to a stop before turning sharply to his left. There it was blinking at him at the end of the corridor. He smiled thankful. At that moment the ship jerked forward as it hit the upper thin atmosphere of the moon. Swearing loudly as he skidded on his front. He clambered to his feet and pelted towards the small console.

“Ok reboot, shut down… where’s the fraggin’ shutdown? He punched the most likely buttons, to his relief the console beeped and blinked up a green light. He hit the button. Nothing. He hit it again. Still nothing.

“Ratchet… you glitch… what am I sup…” He was cut off as the engines thrummed into life.

“Yes!” He shouted swinging round. Only to be sent flying backwards over the console with a yelp. Landing on his back, he winced. His face throbbed. Coming to his senses as the emergency lighting flickered into being, he blinked as he focused on the shadow looming over him.

He saw a narrow red visor staring down at him. His own optics widened with growing dread.

“Nooo!!!” He cried out as his arms reached out to defend himself. Then fell silent.

****

“Have you got him?”

“Affirmative.”

“Good need to get back up here. Or we’re going to be comet fragments real soon.” Rumble scuttled across the consoles agitated.

“Have you purged the nanovirus?”
“Uuummm that's not going so well, I'm working on it. What are you going to do now?”

“We await Megatron’s orders. I will be there shortly.” Soundwave’s flat reply sounded through the now humming bridge’s consoles. “I am bringing the prisoner. He will be needed to override the ship’s codes.”

“Can’t you know just suck it out of his brain or something?”

Rumble almost heard his master sigh. “We need him to remain functioning. Will need him for negotiations with Prime.”

“Ah…” Rumble smiled. “Thought we were waiting for Megatron’s orders.”

A slight pause. “His order is illogical and an inefficient use of newly acquired resources. I will endeavor to retrieve the Decepticons on the moon before I destroy it and the Autobots.”

Rumble grinned. “Understood.” He said simply as the comm. fell silent. Knowing full well that Soundwave had no intention of abandoning the Decepticons on the surface no matter what they thought of him and no matter what Megatron had ordered him to do. Everything had gone according to plan. Now they just had to fool Prime a little longer to get the others back on the surface and then blow it to the pits.

Loved the tense atmosphere around Sideswipe and loved Soundwave's 'taking matters into his own hands'! (eagerly awaits next update)

Enjoy your weekend with more Deceptisnark, courtesy of us.

*****

“Barricade,” Starscream said, his voice on the thin edge of reasonable, “Blackout did not intend to hurt your feelings.”

“DIDN’T ‘hurt my feelings’,” the ‘con snarled. “Fraggin’ copter’s a walking security risk. Who knows what he’s blabbed to them.”

“I think it’s sweet,” snickered Ironhide, “Little lover’s quarrel.”

A long silence. “If I didn’t have this fraggin’ human in me.…”

“That’s your excuse,” Ironhide retorted.

“None of this is helping,” Prowl intervened. “Am I the only one who still wants to get us out of here?”

“Count me in,” Stokes said, straightening up from where he’d finished repairing Nadya’s suit.

“Count me out,” Barricade snapped. “If that moron’s up there, I’m just fine down here.”

“Barricade, now you are being silly.”

“Shut up, Starscream. Not like you’ve had anything to offer to getting us out yourself.”

The jet sighed. “I have a possible solution, if the matter is locating ourselves relative to the others.” They all turned to look at him—they’d become so accustomed to the jet’s whining that this sounded…odd.

“Care to enlighten us Starscream?” Prowl folded his arms across his chest patiently waiting for the jet to continue.

“The surface reported that we can expect more geysers. While my optics are offline, my targeting, and most of my flight calculation overlays are operational. During my…unfortunate intimacy with the geyser, I noticed that my flight calc ion displays signaled before the actual eruption, and were disturbed by the geyser itself. When a geyser next erupts, I will try to reach it with my targeting grid, which will give vector and range. From that, the surface team can do the same and triangulate our positions.”

“Primus, Starscream,” Barricade complained. “Even when you’re being helpful you’re longwinded. Like you love the sound of your vocalizer.”

“I am attached to this timbre,” the jet admitted.

“Can they do that?” Stokes asked. “The surface team?” The math involved would be…fun.

“Blackout can,” Starscream said. “His flight calc is, obviously, not as advanced as mine, but he requires many of the same systems.”

“Blackout’ll find a way to frag this up, you just watch,” Barricade muttered. “And isn’t that mentally-deficient human finished with the female’s repairs? Getting a cramp in my drivetrain.” Stokes approached with the suit. “Thank Primus!” Barricade said. He snarled and bumped uncomfortably as Nadya struggled to get dressed in the cramped confines of his backseat. As soon as she had sealed the respirator, he pushed back, dumping her on the floor. He rolled his joints, his atmospheric cycler spinning down.

Nadya brushed herself off as she stood. “Wow… when he gets pissy he really gets pissy doesn’t he?” She muttered to Stokes, who nodded in quiet agreement. “Thought for a while there, though he was really getting into you,” he whispered. She shot him a dirty look.

Prowl tapped his chin with one finger. “It could work. We’d know where they were, they’d know where we were, and we could work on a location to blow ourselves out of here.”

“We shall test that theory immediately,” Starscream said, unlocking his joints and rising to his feet. “Another geyser is coming.”

Nobody else felt anything for a long moment. Prowl felt the floor begin to vibrate, faintly. “Do you need help?”

“No, disgusting Autobot, you would only foul my targeting system.” Well, helpful didn’t necessarily mean pleasant. The jet shifted his operational hand to its missile launcher and aimed it at what looked like a wall. “This weapon has a longer range that requires greater-accuracy calculations,” he explained. “Please make sure Ironhide does not overreact.” They heard a distant crack. “It is some ways away,” the jet commented. “We are in no immediate danger.” Then, “I have the information.”

“Barricade, please contact the surface?”

“Slag yourself,” the ‘con replied.

Prowl looked…aggrieved. He’d even said ‘please.’ What more did these entirely irrational Decepticons want? “Barricade, we have information they can use to find us. Contact the surface.”

“Contact them your-fraggin’-self. Not talking to that retarded copter again.”

Prowl felt a flash of irritation: finally they had something useful to share with the surface. And the ‘con was holding some grudge.

“Barricade,” Starscream said, “Contact them, please.”

“Not the copter.”

“Someone else, then. Though I do not imagine any of the Autobots are a conversational improvement.”

Ironhide scoffed, “You think we’re going to give up a freq to you?”

Barricade glared at him. “One, payback for your friends hijacking Blackout’s when he was down—though that was his own stupid fraggin’ fault; and two, yeah, I think you will.”

“Make me.”

Barricade grinned. “So hoping you’d say that.” He lunged at Ironhide, closing his hands around the larger mech’s face. Two of his eyes glittered white. Ironhide stiffened, at first from surprise, but then from something else. He made a strange choking noise.

Barricade released his grip on Ironhide’s head.

Ironhide shook his head, as if he’d just walked through cobwebs. “You do that again and I’ll kill you.”

“Think you won’t,” Barricade said. “Remember, need my comm.”

Stokes asked Prowl, “What just happened?”

Prowl was disturbed. He didn’t know, either. And he didn’t like not knowing.

“As a combat controller, Barricade had access to systems of mechs on his teams,” Starscream explained.

“Starscream,” the ‘con warned.

“But that means…?” Stokes was struggling to put the pieces together. “Barricade controlled Ironhide?”

“Demonic possession,” Barricade snapped. “Just go with that.”

“It is…reasonably accurate,” Starscream said, his tone a little sad.

“Now, who’s on for a surface chat?”

Barricade's control of Ironhide is...vaguely disturbing. But good chapter.

Aww, Starscream's being nice.

“Barricade, please contact the surface?”

“Slag yourself,” the ‘con replied.

Prowl looked…aggrieved. He’d even said ‘please.’

This had me dying! I still giggle over how stubbornly pissed Barricade is at Blackout. Awesome stuff!!

Sorry for the delay (not that anyone is bothered) but here you go latest update... I have only just been able to get back on site. It is a long bit... sorry...

****

Optimus jerked upright at the voice in his comm. Bad enough the latest geyser erupted less than a mile from their position, pelting them with frozen chunks and small stones. Who was it? Bumblebee? Sideswipe? He wished he knew what was going on, on the Ark. Sideswipe was competent, but…Optimus hated not knowing. “Yes,” he acknowledged.

“Awwww, is that your reaction when someone comes to whisper sweet nothings in your audio?” Barricade’s voice.

“Barricade? How—why? Why aren’t you talking to Blackout?”

“Got it in one: I am not talking to that moron copter. Can see why they made you the leader.”

“I gathered that. He didn’t mean to--”

“To business: here’s our distance and vector from the currently erupting geyser.” He recited a string of numbers. “Triangulate from there.” A pause. “Surely one of you can do that.”

Prime looked over to where Blackout stood. Overhearing the entire conversation.

“Barricade, I’m sor—“

“Shut up, copter. Get the fraggin’ range and triangulate. And keep your fraggin’ mouth shut other than that.”

Optimus could swear he saw Blackout’s lip quiver. “Okay,” the copter mumbled.

“Got us?”

“Yeah,” the copter said, glumly. “Have a rough cone vector. Distance and elevation, no.”

“Great,” Barricade said, impatiently, “Comm us when you’re finally fraggin’ useful!”

“Barricade, listen. I’m really sorry—“

“You sure fraggin’ are.” Barricade cut comm. Blackout looked stricken. He dropped to the ground with such force Ratchet thought he had collapsed again. Bumblebee sidled up to him, whining sympathetically. The copter gave a half-hearted shrug. “Get off me.”

“He’ll get over it,” Optimus said, gently.

The copter shook his head. “You don’t know him.” He looked at them. “What? We can get closer and try again. Can we get this over with?” He pulled one of his rotor blades over his shoulder, petting it nervously. It looked…sad.

Optimus looked at the sky, as if he could see the Ark. Even if he could, not like he could do anything to help them. Still, Sideswipe had given him the surveys.

“Worried about up there?” Ratchet said.

“Of course.”

“No point,” Blackout muttered. “Really. Likely we’ll blast ‘em out just in time for Soundwave to bring the damn ship down on all of us.” The Autobots looked at him, surprised. “How he works. He’s hijacked the ship with a nanovi. Your guys up there? Toast. And we get to be the jelly.” He blinked, shocked. “Oh no, I’m doing it again!” He buried his face between his knees. “Talking too much,” he muttered. “Don’t learn. Stupid, stupid copter.”

Bumblebee looked stricken at the mumblings of the large ‘con who not so long ago had tried to offline him with what certainly seemed to be fierce loathing and determination. He glanced up at Optimus and Ratchet who could do nothing but stare at the emotional outburst in confusion. Neither one sure of what to do next. Autobots didn’t have these kinds of emotional…outbursts. What to do? Wait it out or speak to him? Bumblebee frowned. This was not good for anyone least of all Blackout. He walked over to the curled up ‘copter, his head still between his knees.

Much to Blackout’s surprise, he felt two small hands gently lift his shoulders, pushing the rotor back over his shoulder. Too stunned to speak to the yellow ‘bot now crouched in front of him, he stared his mouth open mid mumble. Bumblebee threw him a comforting smile and stood gently coaxing Blackout to his feet; he stood up obediently, his confidence shattered. Didn’t need this from the slaggin’ ‘bots. Had enough problems of his own, without their damn pity.

Bumblebee ever so slightly squeezed his shoulder armor and blinked towards Optimus.

“He says that you’re stronger than this, he knows this from fighting you and that you should stop acting like a sparkling and be the ‘con he…” Optimus chuckled.

“What? What did he say?” Blackout didn’t take his optics off the smiling ‘bot in front of him, but was now frowning. Stupid Autobot. Like he didn’t feel bad enough having no friends. Now he had to have the yellow one insult him?

“He wants you to be the ‘con that normally scares the slag out of him.”

Bumblebee nodded once at Blackout before heading back to Ratchet’s side. Blackout was a little lost for words.

“Really…? I scare him…?” Well, ‘bout time the mute moron showed a little respect.

Optimus shrugged ever so slightly, a slight smirk crossing his face. “His words, Blackout.”

“Youngling’s got a glitching circuit loose if you ask me.” Ratchet grumbled quietly, receiving a prod from Bumblebee for his consternation.

Blackout frowned and drew himself up to his full height. “What the frag are you all looking at? Don’t we have work to do?” There had to be a way to get a fix on their location. Then Barricade would talk to him again. And he’d be rid of these smarmy Autobots. Who had seen him look like such a ninny.

****

Sideswipe lay slumped against the bulkhead at the back of the bridge. Soundwave had placed a sensor block on him so he couldn’t move. His optics glared with loathing at the small ‘bot grinning stupidly in front of him.

“Not so big now are ya. Dumb Autobot.” Rumble chuckled. Soundwave came into his line of sight. The cold red visor staring down at him, the monotone voice sending chills through his sensor net.

“Give me the command codes for the Ark.”

“Go slag yourself… freakin’ ‘con… I knew we shouldn’t have trusted you. Should have blown you apart when we first detected you.”

Soundwave didn’t react as expected. “That is unfortunate.” The large mech leaned closer to Sideswipe who was unable to draw back.

“Get away from me! Stay out of my fraggin’ head!”

Tendrils shot out from Soundwave’s frame, and probed Sideswipe’s helm.

“Ack… Get out… I am going to slaggin’ rip you apart…” Sideswipe strained as the mech probed his mind further.

“Arrgghh!!!... No!”

Soundwave drew back sharply. Rumble didn’t even glance up. “Got them?”

“Affirmative.” He headed back to the console as the ship jerked sharply as it hit atmosphere.

Sideswipe was enraged. He felt his fingers twitch. Glancing up, he noticed Rumble was preoccupied with watching Soundwave working the ship back into a stable orbit. His extremities were coming back online; whatever Soundwave had done in his head had weakened the sensor block. He could move. Taking his chance he grabbed Rumble who shrieked. Soundwave turned sharply and froze as Sideswipe held his pulse rifle to his symbiote.

“Release him.” Soundwave commanded, no shred of emotion in his voice.

“You know, I think I’ll hang onto him for a while. For what was it you called it?... Negotiation. Well Soundwave negotiate this… you so much as twitch in the wrong direction then I blow his fraggin’ head off. Move away from the console.”

“You are an Autobot. You are bluffing.”

“HA! Got me confused with Prime there hot shot. I have no problem offlining the little runt.”

“This is illogical, if I do not correct orbit, we will all perish in the atmosphere.”

“Well now, I suggest you get off at the next stop.”

“I will not relinquish this vessel.” Rumble squeaked as Sideswipe gripped him tighter, preventing him from squirming. Soundwave frowned.

“You know what? I think you actually care about what happens to Rumble so I am giving you one last chance to get of my ship, before I give you reason to.”

“You are no match for me.” Soundwave stated blandly. “But if you injure Rumble, I shall have a reason to damage you. And your ship. Permanently.”

“Wrong answer.” Sideswipe raised his weapon and aimed at Soundwave. He squeezed the trigger. Rumble cried out: Soundwave didn’t even flinch.

Sparks erupted from the console directly behind the telepath. The console sputtered and died. Soundwave turned noting that the navigational controls were shot. Sideswipe charged at him, throwing Rumble ahead. Soundwave caught the spindly bot in one hand as Sideswipe impacted his mid section sending them both flying over the console. Rumble managed to scramble free as Sideswipe fought his master. Being more adept at fighting up close and personal he soon gained the upper hand against Soundwave who grunted loudly as a fist shattered his visor sending him sprawling across the floor. Sideswipe fired his weapon, but Soundwave was fast. The ship lurched violently toward the surface. Sideswipe was sent stumbling off balance.

Glancing at the damaged console Soundwave realized the situation was futile. The Autobot had sealed his own fate. Better to have the Ark destroyed if he couldn’t claim it. With any luck it would crash and the subsequent explosion would ignite the veins of Neptunium on the planet. At least then part of his mission would be a success. Even if it did mean wiping out everyone on the surface. Megatron considered it a worth while price to pay. He swiftly summoned Rumble to him. Holding up his hands to Sideswipe he drew back.

“I surrender.”

“What?” Both Sideswipe and Rumble exclaimed.

“This is a fight neither one of us can win. I will relinquish your vessel. It is yours.” Soundwave kept moving backwards, ever closer to the exit.

Sideswipe smirked. “Nice try. But I think you’ll have a much better view right where you are.” He fired his weapon, which blasted into Soundwave’s side, he fired again this time injuring his leg. Soundwave fell to the floor in obvious pain.

“Why you filthy Autobot!” Rumble screamed as he darted for him.

“Ah! Don’t make me shoot him in head, I would much rather we all watch the show together.”

Rumble hesitated his optics darting between Sideswipe and Soundwave. “Now I can try and save all of us. Or I can waste my time fighting you off. Which is it to be, short stuff?”

“Rumble, stand down.” Soundwave spoke up, his normally even tone, laced with barely disguised pain and reluctance. He sounded weak.

“Good thinking.”

“You can’t salvage the ship.” Soundwave grimaced as he tried to move to a sitting position.

Sideswipe laughed shortly. “Well now, that’s just the sort of encouragement that I like to hear. Call yourself a telepath. If you had any idea how the Ark actually worked. You’d have known that I only shot out the primary navigational controls. Or do you think all us Autobots are so stupid that we don’t have backups for just such an occasion?”

Soundwave glared at him pointedly. “It would be unwise for me to answer that question.”

Awwww, good ol' Bee, always there with encouragement.

::cheers for Sideswipe::

Not a terrifically long section, but I just want to make you gnaw your arm off for the update. I'm the evil one, remember that.

******

Inside:

“Barricade,” Prowl said, “Your resistance is illogical. We need those directional readings. You have done it before. Do it again.” Really, it was that simple. As much as Prowl didn’t care to have to depend on the Decepticons for anything, he hated their apparent ever growing moodiness even more. Autobots did not act like such sparklings.

“Please,” Nadya interjected. The ‘con seemed to listen to her. Well, better than Stokes.

“No.”

“The humans are beginning to run low on oxygen,” Ironhide reminded him, brusquely.

“Only problem with that is they’d be more dead weight to lug since you idiot Autobots would make us carry even their dead bodies.”

“You don’t think we’d just leave them here?” Prowl sounded a little shocked.

“Why not? Isn’t that what you made us do with the runticon? Bringing us his head?” Barricade countered.

Ironhide growled at Barricade, who stared him down coldly.

Starscream patted the floor around him until his talons bumped Stokes. “Human,” he said. “Take me to Barricade.” He held one talon still until he felt Stokes grab on and pull. Stokes had no idea what was going on, but the jet finally seemed in the mood to be helpful and Stokes didn’t want to hamper that. Anything that pissed off the touchy jet could ruin everything.

Stokes led Starscream over to where Barricade stood, pressed into a corner of the cavern wall. The jet reached out his other hand and rested it on Barricade’s arm. He released Stokes, but still held onto Barricade as he lowered himself awkwardly into a seated position. “Leave us, human,” he said.

“Sure.” Stokes retreated a few steps, but turned to watch. What was this all about? And why was the crabby Barricade just standing there while the jet’s hand grabbed at his shoulder?

“You have not gone far enough away, fleshsack,” Starscream said. “I can hear your respirator.”

Sheesh! Stokes stomped off. “What’s up with those lovebirds?” he griped as he rejoined the others.

“Having a conversation,” Ironhide said. “Look.”

Even though they weren’t making any noise, they were certainly acting like they were having some kind of conversation. Almost an argument. Starscream was making some hand gesture of entreaty. Barricade stood firm, almost rigid. Finally, Barricade’s frame relaxed. No, more like sagged. “Fine,” he said aloud.

“That is good,” Starscream said.

“You promise…?”

“I keep my word, Barricade.”

Barricade stomped over to Prowl. If he was going to cooperate, he was determined, apparently, to make sure everyone knew he wasn’t very happy about it. “What do you want from me.”

Prowl tried to figure out what in the world the jet had said to Barricade—one didn’t seem like a particularly masterful negotiator and the other didn’t seem too easily swayed. Still, Prowl’s logic told him that asking about that would defeat the larger goal of getting out of here. “We need your directional readings. Actually,” his eyes widened—why hadn’t he thought of this before—“surely your HUD can give a straight grid coordinate of our location.”

Barricade looked at Starscream, something almost frantic in his eyes. Then remembered the jet couldn’t see. “Fine.” He clicked on his HUD. “Nope. Too much rock to penetrate. I can get longitude only. And a cone vector to…that fraggin’ copter. Gets less accurate the further he actually is. Which we have no way to know.”

“All right.” Prowl gestured to the others. “Let’s go. We need to triangulate ourselves. And I think,” he accessed his maps, “I can get us to a higher position where he CAN get us a grid.”

“I’m not encouraged when you say you only ‘think’,” Ironhide said.

“You’ll be less encouraged by this,” Barricade said, taking the jet’s hand. “I’m leading the blind one again.”

“The blind one who dearly wishes not to have to carry you.” Starscream added.

“Fine,” Ironhide snapped. “I can walk on my own just fine.”

“One other thing,” Barricade said. “No humans on me. Or that’s the last reading you get.”

Wow, Stokes thought, Barricade was really using his clout here to be awfully petty. “We’re fine,” he said, stiffly.

The party set off, pace hampered by Ironhide’s gait which lagged even behind the shorter-legged humans. He refused to let Prowl assist him. Three times along the route, Prowl asked Barricade for another attempt. Each time, the ‘con tightened his hand around the jet’s claw before he complied. After the second time, Ironhide looked at him curiously. He seemed to be…shivering.

“Hey, Barricade, You not over that geyser stuff yet?”

“’M fine,” the ‘con mumbled, his eyes distant.

After the third time, the shiver had gone to a definite twitch, Barricade’s eyes jumping around like he was seeing things. Ironhide pulled Prowl aside. “Damn ‘con’s acting weird. You sure we can trust him?”

Prowl looked back at Barricade, who, in the halt, looked solid enough, if pissed. Well, Prowl had bigger problems than a ‘con’s emotional maturity. “He looks all right to me,” Prowl said. “Barricade. We’re here. Can you try to get us a grid?”

The smaller ‘con swore, which seemed unnecessary, his voice high and shrill. He dragged the jet a little further up the sloping floor of the tunnel with him. “This better be fraggin’ worth it,” he snarled. He lit up his arrays. Not just the one from before, but all of them. His eyes went white, the upper pair shimmering in their sockets like they wanted to slide out of position. He rattled off a ten-digit string. “Got that?”

“Yes,” Prowl said. “Thank you.”

“Ready,” Barricade said. He’d shut off his arrays, looking down at the floor intently. Ready? Ready for what? Was he talking to the surface again? Prowl stepped closer to investigate but before he could advance, the jet swung one of his powerful arms, striking the smaller ‘con hard at the base of his helm. Barricade collapsed forward, offline.

A/N Nice little/longish section for you! Things are happenin' now ^_^

****

“Blackout.” Blackout jumped as Starscream’s voice came over his comm, first surprised, then worried. “We have the grid coordinates of our present location.” Around the copter, the Autobots pressed in. How? It didn’t matter: they were finally going to be able to help. To do something other than wander around with this moody Decepticon.

“What happened to Barricade?” Blackout blurted. He checked his comm call freq—still Barricade’s boosted comm line. No way Starscream on Barricade’s comm spelled anything good.

“He is offline at his own request.”

“Do I need to guess how you got the grid?”

“They were already beginning. It was…unpleasant to watch.”

Blackout bit his lower labial plate. “Starscream? Thanks.”

“To be honest, I confess that I enjoyed hitting him.”

Blackout smiled, sadly. “I can understand that. He’ll be okay?” Hard to keep the worry from his voice. He didn’t care if the fraggin’ Autobots made fun of him or made their snide ‘is he your boyfriend’ jokes again.

“When he reboots, the worst of it will have been dumped as junk code. He shall be fine. And we shall dislike ourselves for missing him.”

“Look forward to that,” the copter muttered.

Prime intervened. “The grid coordinates?” He tried not to sound impatient, in what he gathered were some trying circumstances, but still. There was a time for this. And that was not right now, with Primus-only-knew-what going on in the Ark.

Starscream recited the string. “This is where we are. We have done our part. Now perhaps you Autobots will do your part to remedy this intolerable situation.”

“We know about the humans and their oxygen,” Ratchet said.

“I was referring to the situation where I have no one reasonable with whom to converse.”

They heard a faraway voice—the jet’s audio pickups were higher than the smaller ‘con’s. “Optimus, we need a plan. And what is going on with the Ark?”

“How is Ironhide?” Ratchet asked. “Is he the idiot glitch I think he is?”

A mutter of curses—Ironhide. “Ironhide is functional,” Prowl said, “provided we do not have to move.” Considering they finally knew a location, it would be idiocy to move now. “Now, the Ark?” The tactician’s processor was sick to over clocking of hearing about these Decepticons and their little interpersonal fracases. He wanted a new problem.

“We haven’t heard from them, but it appears Sideswipe is under attack. Blackout feels this is a nanovirus attack planned by Soundwave and that either us, or the moon itself, is his next target.”

Blackout hung his head, acutely aware that Starscream was hearing yet more evidence of ‘copter-with-rotor-mouth.’

“Highly likely outcomes. At this point it is too early to determine if we, or, more specifically, YOU, Prime are the main targets, or if it is the Neptunium.”

Prime frowned. He didn’t much like either option, especially for the collateral damage Megatron was willing to pay. Blow up a moon and his own mechs to destroy Optimus? That sounded wasteful—and vengeful—enough to be Megatron. But destroying the source of Neptunium so that neither side could have it was also in keeping with the crazed leader’s thinking. “The issue is,” Prime said, “What can we do to help?”

“You? Nothing. If I could contact the ship, however…then I should be able to analyze the nanovirus and my battle computer will be able to formulate an anti-viral code to render the nanovirus harmless. ”

“Yes Prowl, but to do that, you’re going to have to let down your central firewalls in order to analyze it and you’ll end up infected too.” Ratchet grumbled insistently.

“I believe that I will be able to reinforce my cortex adequately to prevent that, Ratchet.”

“If you get infected with a nanovirus with the strength to bring down Teletraan 1 then there’s no telling what it will do to your systems.” Ratchet frowned, even though there was no way Prowl could see his face.

“Yes but can it work, Ratchet?” Optimus asked quietly.

“Yes. It could work, but if you want my professional opinion it’s a fraggin’ dangerous and glitch-headed idea.” Well, the medic seemed to be maintaining a steady level of charm, Blackout noted.

“I am aware of the risks Ratchet. Thank you for your concern but this is the only way to regain control of the ship. This is beneficial to us all. The only flaw with my plan is that it requires a boosted system in order for my cortex to directly link to Teletraan 1.”

Optimus frowned. Well, there went that plan. “And Barricade is still offline?”

“Would I be talking to you if he were not?” Starscream said, nastily.

“No need to be so damn hostile, ‘con,” Ratchet snapped.

“Autobot, when you have had to offline one of your own mechs because he is having traumatic flashbacks he garnered in an attempt to further another of your ridiculous schemes to get us out of here, THEN you may tell me what is appropriate for my mood.”

“There are medical interventions for that, ‘con.”

“None available under this filthy rock, ‘bot,” Starscream replied evenly.

“We also need their comm.”

“Which means,” Ratchet said, “We have to get them out of there, ASAP.”

“Oh, right,” Blackout muttered, “Because we’ve had all the time in the world up til now. When it was just my fraggin’friends in danger.”

“Oh that’s just so untrue it’s not even funny, ‘con!” Ratchet burst. “Our mechs are down there too, for one thing, and for another—“

Optimus cut off Ratchet before he went on another of his infamous excoriations. “Ratchet, we have larger issues right now. As I have told Blackout. Blackout, I am sorry about Barricade. And I hope he recovers from…whatever has happened. But we need to work together.”

“Why?” Blackout bellowed. Fed up. “Why should we help you? Help you what? Defeat one of our own guys? Seriously?”

“Blackout,” Starscream said, coolly, “The Autobot ship may be our only way off this moon. We would do well to help resecure it. For our own uses. You know what use Soundwave would put it to.”

The sentence hung ominously in the air. Nobody wanted, or needed, a translation.

“The point is,” Optimus interrupted, losing a little patience. “The point is that we need boosted communications.”

“No, you don’t,” Blackout said, quietly. “You need a ramped code frequency modulator. Not a signal booster.”

“What’s the difference?” Ratchet snapped. “We don’t have one of those either.”

“I do.”

“Blackout,” Starscream said, warningly.

“What? You know what Soundwave is planning. You want that to happen?”

A long pause. “Very well, Blackout. But if you endanger yourself, you will leave me alone with these Autobots. Which will…displease me greatly.”

“Got another option?” the copter said, hotly.

“No,” the jet sighed. “Just…be careful.”

The Autobots stood by, in shock. No one had expected Starscream to sound so…decent. Blackout stared at the ground for a moment, bracing himself. “All right,” he said, quietly. He whispered to Ratchet, urgently, “Just don’t tell Barricade?”


****

Blackout squirmed as Ratchet had to use his tools to modify his freq modulator. The grouchy medic had become very subdued since being overruled by both Prime and SIC. He was bordering on the verge of being polite. For the medic to become this quiet after briefly arguing with Optimus in hushed tones to one side earlier, Blackout took as a bad sign. And the fact that, as usual, no one was telling him a fraggin’ thing. Stupid copter, he told himself. Barricade’s going to kick my security clearance back down to ‘toaster’ when he hears about this.

Which made him think about Barricade. Which made him worried AND sad. One of Ratchet’s tools slipped against his audio, causing a squeal of feedback. “Watch what you’re poking…”

“Sorry.” Ratchet mumbled. Blackout didn’t like this. When they weren’t calling him a whiner, something was wrong. Even the yellow one wasn’t making fun of him, even though he was sitting like a lump of slag, his comm. array exposed for Ratchet’s mods.

“You must think the plan can work if you’re going ahead with it, right?” he asked. The medic cast him a pointed look as he finished his alterations.

“I am following orders, Blackout. You’re ready.” Ratchet went to stand to one side, his arms folded across his chest. He did not look happy. Blackout didn’t like this at all. He tried to figure if Ratchet’s distance was significant—had he just moved out of some sort of burst range? Dammit: Barricade was way better with demo than he was. Barricade would be able to tell.

“Prowl, are you ready?” Optimus asked through the open comm.

“I’m ready.”

“I am not, though thank you for asking,” Starscream muttered. They had to run the comm. through Barricade and Starscream. “I am displeased that if this idiotic plan backfires, all three of us will be damaged. It seems like a convenient plot to eliminate all of your enemies at once.”

“Prowl will be damaged as well.”

“Is that supposed to be comforting? It is not. Just a hint, Prime. I have one of the humans in my hands. Should anything happen that would render me unconscious, I shall lose my grip. Do you think a fall from my height will be sufficient to kill? Enjoy those calculations.”

Oohh, Prime, you just got TOLD by Starscream!

"The grouchy medic had become very subdued since being overruled by both Prime and SIC. He was bordering on the verge of being polite." <----------

Oh, slag. Sorry, forgot to post update, and CP's without a computer right now, sooooooo, enjoy!

Inside:

Ironhide watched a seated Prowl closely as his optics flickered and dimmed.

“So what’s going on?” Stokes asked, rather nervously. He did not enjoy having the jet’s hand around him. It was very…spiky. It was also a long way down.

“He’s uplinking with the ship now.” Ironhide answered, all trace of animosity gone from his tone. He was worried.

Prowl remained completely motionless for a few long minutes. Ironhide was tense and to his surprise even Starscream appeared apprehensive, shifting his grip on Stokes, several times, tilting his head as if something was itching at his audio.

Prowl’s voice sounded strange, slower than normal and slightly digitized. “I have linked to Teletraan 1… detecting nanovirus…”His optics twitched slightly. “Analysing…” He fell silent again. “Initiating anti-viral code… formulating…transmitting now…”

They waited, their patience pushed to its limits.

“It is working; the nanovirus is shutting down… Aaahh…” Prowl stopped mid-sentence, his frame tensed and his optics widened.

“Prowl?” Ironhide prompted.

“What is happening, did he succeed?” Nadya frowned, looking worriedly at Stokes, who had gone rigid in his space suit.

“I’m not sure… Prowl?” Ironhide clenched his fists resisting the urge to shake the tactician.

Prowl’s air intakes had rapidly increased and with a sound that made both mechs jump, his cooling systems came on line. Optimus’s voice sounded over the still open comm.

“What’s happening down there? Blackout is reporting a surge of information.”

“We don’t know. He’s frozen up.”

Prowl’s body jerked suddenly, his hands clenching tightly. His voice was strained, forced.

“It is adapting… formulating… code…too fast… to counteract… need to siphon… from… ship.”

Ratchet’s voice shouted over the comm. “You can’t do that! You’ll get infected: it will shut you down! You damned glitching stubborn….” Ratchet reeled off a series of insults in their native Cybertronian in frustration.

Prowl looked in pain, Ironhide could only watch as he jerked sharply.

“Risk… have to… take… transmitting…” His optics shuttered with concentration. “It is… it’s working…”

Only Stokes noticed the jet’s sudden rigidity.

*****

Surface:

Without warning Blackout cried out in pain. The link was severed as Blackout fell to the ground on the surface. Ratchet was immediately by his side.

“Some of his circuits have been burnt out from the surge of energy. He’s clean though. He’ll be fine.” Ratchet glared at Optimus who was tense with concern and guilt in having given the order to go ahead.

“Fine,” Blackout mumbled, clutching his head. “You call this fine?” He heaved, purging a rainbow of fluids onto the ground. Bumblebee blurped nearby, distressed. He hated purging, himself. He leaned over to pull one of the copter’s rotors up before it trailed in the puddle.

“Is Prowl all right… Ironhide, Starscream?”

Starscream’s voice was thin. No hint of his usual snark. “I believe Ironhide is restraining your tactician now. He is convulsing, according to the humans.”

“And the humans?” Optimus prompted.

“Are fine.” A slow, shaky in-vent. “As usual.”

All of the mechs on the surface grimaced as Prowl’s anguished cries ripped through the comm. emphasizing Starscream’s statement.

“Ratchet what can I do?!” Ironhide bellowed. The medic thought quickly.

“He must stay online to fight the virus.”

“What about these seizures?!”

“Needs a sensor block on him…”

“I don’t fraggin’ come with a supply, Ratchet!” Ironhide swore.

Ratchet sighed. “There’s nothing I can do from up here.” He shrugged, defeated.

“I may be able to help.” Starscream said. “But you will not enjoy it.”