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Shuttle AR – 221

Her attention moved from the now blaring signal back to her knees that were still propped up on the seat. Again the femme wrapped her arms around them tightly, every part of her aching, every thought racing. The sound of the chatter coming through the comm line only made her already sensitive audios ring louder eliciting a low moan from the scout. It won’t be long. Just hold out a little longer. He’ll get us there, I trust him implicitly.

Her question concerning the Dinobots’ departure was answered in the affirmative giving her the excuse to let out a heavy sigh of relief. Tracer raised her head slightly and caught his optics when he looked over his shoulder and gave her a warm smile. It reassured her that he would get her to her meeting on time. She could always rely on him when she was in a jam.

At his warning to hang on Tracer lowered her legs from the seat and placed her feet firmly on the floor. She gripped the armrests in an attempt to brace herself from the turbulence from entering the atmosphere surrounding of the planet.

It didn’t take long for the shuttle to begin to shake and nearly toss violently. The quick and fierce movements only brought on another bought of pain causing her to let out a startled cry. Her intakes hitched as she fought to keep calm.

After what seemed like an eternity the shuttle finally passed through the envelope that surrounded the Earth and steadied. The scout let out a moan before she doubled over at the waist, her optics focused on the floor beneath her feet.

The pain that had been brought on by the jarring of the shuttle finally dulled to a mild ache that seemed to be much more tolerable. After a moment of quiet Tracer’s head shot up, her optics bright with surprise. A quick yelp escaped her vocalizer before she rose shakily out of the seat and made her way to the chair next to Smokescreen.

“He. He’s waiting. We don’t have a lot of time, perhaps only 4 breems, may...maybe less.”

She turned her attention from the rallybot and focused on the keys of the navigation system. Before she input the coordinates to the rendezvous location she noticed the shaking of her hands. The scout squeezed her hands into tight balls before relaxing her servos in order to type in the area she would be meeting Oil Slick.

Without looking to Smokescreen she let him know how things would have to go once they arrived.

“Smokescreen, I...I need to go alone. If he sees that you’re with me…”

She let her statement linger for a moment before she went on.

“You’ll need to land the shuttle a few miles from the rendezvous point. I think I'll be able to make the remainder of the trip in my alt mode.”

It was at this time that she finally cast her gaze to the mech by her side. A pained smile made its way to Tracer’s delicate face. She hoped he would understand the importance that he remained behind. If Oil Slick knew he had accompanied her he would never trust her again, thus cutting her off from the one thing that she completely depended on.

“The meeting won't take long. Once I get what I need and I’m on my way back to the shuttle, I’ll comm you. Please, Smokey, you need to do as I say.”

It was out of desperation that she used his nickname, something she never did before.

Shuttle AR-221 - Approaching Mongolia

The trip through Earth’s atmosphere was pretty much what Smokescreen had expected. It was a jarring and bumpy ride down for almost a full breem before the orange glow that surrounded the shuttle finally dissipated and the craft became calm and steady once more with the rallybot still holding on to the controls. “Well, that wasn’t so bad,” Smokey spoke aloud to no one in particular as he looked back at Tracer. “You still with me?”

The troubled femme didn’t respond to him, letting out only a moan shortly before jumping up and taking a seat next to him. She then told him that her dealer was waiting and that they only had about four breems at the most for her to get to the rendezvous point to meet him. It was obvious to Smokey that Tracer had received a communique from the ‘Con in question, instructing her on what to do.

Of course, Tracer had instructions of her own, making it very clear on what Smokescreen, himself, had to do. She was sure to emphasize that he needed to remain behind in the shuttle once they had landed a few miles away from the meeting place. The diversion expert let out a sigh, not liking the idea of her going it alone against a Decepticon, especially in her weakened and unstable condition. Fortunately, he had no intention of following her orders as he had plans of his own for this dealer of hers. She would never be alone again. She just didn’t know it yet.

“I understand,” Smokescreen replied. It was a lie designed to put her at ease. He took hold of her hand and squeezed it gently, giving her a warm smile before returning his gaze to the forward windows in front of him. He guided the small shuttle down into a mountainous region of Mongolia, a mostly desolate area that would be the perfect place to hide an alien craft from any indigenous prying eyes.

Using the shuttle’s scanners, the rallybot quickly located a small valley within the mountain range and aimed the small craft towards it. “I’ll set us down here, Tracer. This valley is nice and secluded and should provide us with adequate cover,” Smokescreen said as he extended the shuttle’s landing gear before finally setting it down on the rocky ground with a gentle thud. He then shut off the ship’s primary systems and turned once again to face the drug-addicted femme.

“Okay, we’re good. Now, from the air I saw that there’s a single route heading south that leads out of the valley. It’s not paved, but you should be able to traverse it.” Smokescreen stopped for a moment, placing both of his hands onto her own. “Are you sure you can do this alone, Trace? I’m afraid for you. Just tell me again that you’ll be fine and I’ll believe you.”

The diversion expert’s statement was partly true. He was very afraid for her, more than she would ever know. However, the rest was another lie. Even if she swore on Primus, himself, Smokey would never believe that she would be okay, not in her condition. The only way to ensure her safety and, furthermore, to ensure she would never have to meet with this dealer again was if he followed her to the rendezvous point. Tracer would hate him for it at first, maybe even longer, but it was something he was willing to risk in order to help the femme break her addiction and ultimately save her life.

Mongolia – Shuttle AR – 221

A small smile crossed her features as he responded to the instructions she had given him. That same smile twisted into a pained frown before she let out another low moan. Her optics offlined for a moment until the uncomfortable feeling passed and she felt him take her hand and give it a gentle squeeze. Slowly the cool blue hue of her eyes met his, but she quickly turned her gaze away. He didn’t respond, instead he returned his attention to the forward windows.

Tracer nodded when she heard Smokescreen announce his intended landing location. It was extremely secluded and would work perfectly as a cover for the alien shuttle, concealing it from the prying eyes of any inhabitants.

Once the ship was safely on the ground and the power down process was initiated, the femme couldn’t help but feel a twinge of fear run through her mind. It passed quickly as any and all of the thoughts racing around within her processor consumed the fear.

Tracer’s attention was quickly brought back to the present when Smokescreen revealed that he had spotted a single route heading in the direction she would eventually meet Oil Slick in. The fact that it was not paved meant little to the desperate femme. It just meant she would just have to be much more attentive during her trek.

The blue and white scout had refocused her optics outside of the windows, the whole meeting playing out in the forefront of her mind. She barely noticed Smokescreen asking her if she could do this alone and that he was afraid for her…for her well -being.

“Huh? Oh, yeah. I’ll be fine. I’ve done this plenty of times.”

Tracer cringed slightly at her last words. She truly had been doing this for a long time. For more vorns than she cared to remember. She quickly looked away from her companion, almost ashamed that the statement flowed from her lips so fluently.

“I mean, I can do this. You don’t have to be afraid for me.”

She lifted her head back up and looked back into his bright blue optics. The afflicted femme forced a smile as she raised her hand and gently stroked his cheek.

“I swear to Primus that I will be alright.”

After a few moments Tracer ran her thumb over the soft metal of his cheek and then stood from her chair. A slight wince made its way to her visage, but she hid it by moving past the rallybot as quickly as possible.

She stopped near the exit ramp and placed her hand on the control panel but paused for an astrosecond. This meeting had to go flawlessly. She needed this drug in order to just function. She let out a faint sigh as she finally depressed the switch and watched as the ramp slowly lowered.

Without looking back to her friend…no he was now more than that…she stepped out of the shuttle and quickly transformed into her vehicle mode and sped off in the direction of the coordinates given to her by her long time dealer.

Tearing along the rough roadway, she couldn’t help but think how much she hated herself for feeding the addiction. That thought was immediately pushed aside when she recalled just how good it felt to be like everyone else.

Southern Mongolia

Oil Slick landed a short distance from the rendezvous point. He would make the rest of the trip on foot to help disguise which direction he had come from, having actually landed a bit east of his final destination. As he walked he did a full systems check. Again he didn’t expect any trouble from Tracer, especially given the withdrawal she was likely going through, but one could never be too sure.

All of his systems checked out, including his chemical sprayers. He arrived at the rendezvous point and stood waiting and watching for the Autobot or anything suspicious. The appointed time had nearly arrived so he suspected his wait would be short.

Mongolian Valley - Shuttle AR-211

Smokescreen regarded Tracer with a concerned look as she assured him multiple times that she would be okay. The first two assurances didn’t sound all that convincing while the last time actually sounded like everything would be all right in the end. Smokey had to remind himself that she had been under the influence of Syk for a very very long time and had likely dealt with this dealer of hers on countless occasions. The rallybot didn’t blame her for the addiction she was afflicted with as he understood the need to feel like everyone else. No, he solely blamed the dealer for this. After all, that ‘Con wasn’t giving Tracer the Syk to help her but to help himself get richer with whatever credits he wanted from her.

That’s all about to change, Smokescreen thought confidently as Tracer touched the side of his cheek plate, letting her thumb move across the soft metal. She then stood and made her way to the hatch of the shuttle. She paused for a moment but did not look back at the diversion expert. Instead, she simply activated the control switch that extended the ramp to the rocky ground beneath them. Once she was outside, Smokey got up from his kneeling position and moved to the open hatchway just in time to see her vehicle form streak off down the dirt path going south out of the valley. He waited until she was gone from sight before turning back into the shuttle.

“This meeting will go better than you think, Trace,” Smokescreen muttered to himself as he sat down in the same seat the troubled femme had initially occupied when she first entered the craft. The rallybot pulled out his electro-disruptor rifle from subspace and checked it over to ensure it was in proper working order. He then loaded it with one of the appropriate clips he had obtained from the Guardian’s armory before stowing it away once more.

Smokescreen rose from the chair and quickly extended his shoulder launchers that were fully equipped with his usual circuit scrambling warheads. Smokey doubted he would need these, but since the dealer in question could be any ‘Con, including a flier, he wanted to be as prepared as possible. Once satisfied that his two weapons were adequately armed and ready, he retracted them into his back again before stepping to the hatchway. He looked out down the valley as he let out a nervous sigh. He needed this to go well for Tracer’s sake. If it didn’t then the troubled femme would be in even worse shape than she was now. On top of that, she would hate him for it and rightly so since it would all be his fault if his plan failed.

It won’t fail. It can’t, Smokescreen reassured himself before descending the ramp to the valley floor. The hatch then closed behind him as the ramp disappeared into the side of the shuttle. The diversion expert didn’t look back, but remained focused on the rocky roadway in front of him. He took another deep breath before transforming into his Nissan 350Z rally car mode. His holomatter avatar appeared in the driver’s seat as a small blip began to pulsate on a dash board monitor.

The blinking dot represented Tracer, who now had a very tiny tracking device attached to the side of her knee joint where Smokey’s hand had just rested before she departed. She would never even realize it was there, especially not in her present condition. Unfortunately, it was something the diversion specialist needed in order to follow her since the signature inhibitors they both wore prevented his internal scanners from picking up her movements otherwise. It was another one of Wheeljack’s carefully crafted gadgets that actually worked the way that it should, giving off an encrypted signal across a frequency of Smokey’s choosing. No one else would pick it up whether it be a ‘Con or another Autobot.

“Let’s roll out,” Smokescreen stated through his avatar’s faux mouth before speeding away down the path that lead out of the valley. Please don’t hate me for this, Trace. I’m doing it for you. I hope you understand one day.


Heavily Encrypted Message from Razorclaw over Oil Slick's Comm Line:

>>”Attention all Decepticons, this is Lord Razorclaw on board the Ultrax. I have beaten Air Commander Starscream in melee combat and thus assumed the role of supreme leader. Regardless of Shockwave’s recent message to all of you, he is not worthy of the throne left behind by Lord Megatron. Only a seasoned, capable warrior and former gladiator such as myself can successfully lead the Empire to ultimate victory over the Autobot suppressors. However, we are being hindered by a rift within the ranks created by the Military Operations Commander. I will need all of your support in order to quash his little rebellion and thus make our forces whole once more. Only then can we hope to eliminate the Autobot threat once and for all. If anyone sees fit to oppose me, you will face a similar fate that has befallen Starscream. Like Megatron before me, I will not tolerate weakness or betrayal. Both will be dealt with swiftly and harshly as I see fit. Consider all that I have said and accept the new Predacon regime and you will be rewarded in the cycles to come.”<<

Southeast Mongolia – Rendezvous Point

The trek from the valley, in which Smokescreen had set their shuttle down, to her destination took less time than expected thanks to the fact that she was capable of faster speeds than a typical human vehicle. The unpaved dirt covered road was murder on her undercarriage, but that didn’t matter to her, not since she knew that in moments she would be standing before the one mech that could give her exactly what she needed to go on.

Tracer slowed her advance as she approached the intended location and quickly transformed to her robot form. The shifting of parts was almost too excruciating for her to continue, but after a low hiss and a slight groan of pain, the transformation was complete. The scout made the final few feet of her journey on foot.

She emerged from the thicket and made her way to the clearing that Oil Slick was waiting in. The femme stopped her only a few meters from the mech. The pain coursing through her body was almost unbearable, but the only outward expression of it was a slight contortion of her delicate visage. Once the sensation had subsided Tracer stepped closer to her dealer.

The femme pulled out a data slug from a storage compartment on her left leg. She held the small slim device tightly in her hand before she finally raised it so Oil Slick could see it. The scout then gestured to the slug and then to Oil Slick.

“Th…Th…This is the information you wanted as payment. I..I’ve included the repot you requested on the effects of the new mixture. Take it and give me the Syk and then tell me what information you want as payment for our next meeting.”

Southeast Mongolia – Rendezvous Point

Oil Slick turned as he heard Tracer approaching. She was obviously in some physical discomfort as her approach was a bit louder then usual. Still, she hid it well, only a slight grimace on her face any outward appearance of pain. Of course he had designed the narcotic she had taken so he was well aware of the side affects and possible withdrawal symptoms. The Autobot was simply trying to maintain some dignity, an admirable trait but one that didn’t particularly interest the Decepticon.

The chemist watched and listened to her as she walked towards him. Once she proffered the data slug he took a step towards here and took it in one of his long hands. He brought the slug up to his optics, giving it a cursory visual evaluation. It appeared to be authentic, but he would have to load it into a computer to be fully certain. He would have to take her at her word, for now.

Oil Slick looked back over at her as she demanded more Syk and what his next payment would be. He considered her words for a moment before replying. “First I would like some additional information, face to face, for research purposes. How did the chemical affect you? Tell me. And remember, this is for posterity so be honest. How do you feel?”

Southeast Mongolia - Approaching Rendezvous Point

Smokescreen raced out of the valley in his rally car mode and headed southeast towards the rendezvous point. Tracer’s signal was several miles ahead of him, which was no problem since the tracking device he had secretly planted on her was capable of being picked up over a distance of up to ten miles before the signal degraded too much to detect. Smokey wouldn’t allow himself to fall that far behind, not with so much at stake.

An infinite number of thoughts invaded the rallybot’s processor as he followed the dirt road away from the mountainous region of Mongolia. Would his plan work not only here in the short term but once they returned to the ships in orbit? Even if he succeeded here, that didn’t necessarily mean he would succeed in weaning her off the Syk. She had been an addict for so long it was probably an alien idea for her to be clean. Of course, even once she was eventually clean, her mental condition would still remain and her suffering from that would endure. It would be all too easy for the femme to fall back into her old habits and then she’d be back at square one again, probably looking for another dealer.

I can’t deal with all that now, Smokescreen thought as he rounded a bend in the roadway. I need to focus on one thing at a time here. First, I take care of this dealer of hers and then I’ll worry about freeing her from the Syk. The diversion expert sped up as he noticed that Tracer’s signal had stopped. She was at the rendezvous point and her dealer was likely there with her.

As Smokescreen closed the gap between himself and the troubled femme, he realized that the sound of his engines would alert the dealer of his approach. Slowing down, Smokey transformed into his robot mode and continued his trek on foot, quietly moving through the tall grasses and brush that littered the landscape. It would take longer to reach the rendezvous point this way, but it was better than being discovered by her dealer. In fact, neither Tracer nor the mystery ‘Con could know that he was nearby until it was time for him to finally act and reveal himself.

Coming upon a large thicket, Smokescreen kept low as he stopped behind the dense clump of trees and tall shrubs. He then knelt down quietly and moved some branches aside with his hand in order to peak through to the other side where he immediately noticed Tracer standing off in the center of a wide clearing directly in front of her dealer. Using his other hand, Smokey pulled out a pair of binoculars and placed them in front of his optics in order to get a better look at the tall, gangly ‘Con in question.

Son of a glitch! Oil Slick! Smokescreen thought, not all that surprised that it was the Decepticon chemical specialist who was Tracer’s dealer of choice. He was the obvious one, considering his ability to create all kinds of chemical agents, usually weapons, but whose talents could easily be applied to addictive drugs, as well. He’s going to be a tough one to beat here. I can’t get into a physical confrontation or I’ll lose my spark for sure. And I’ve got to stay far away from those weapons of his or I’ll end up a melted heap on the ground. No, I have to approach this situation with caution.

As Smokescreen considered his options carefully, he could see that Tracer had handed Oil Slick something small, but he wasn’t sure exactly what it was. She’s not offering him credits that’s for certain, the rallybot thought as the Decepticon held the slug up to his optics. What is that thing? It looks like a data storage device of some kind, but if that’s the case then what could be on it? Smokey’s optics widened as a worried expression crossed his faceplate. Could be anything. She could have downloaded something from the Autobot mainframe, likely something important. What else would a ‘Con like Oil Slick want if not credits? Tracer, what have you done?

Smokescreen let the branches in front of him close before placing the binoculars away and pulling out his electro-disruptor rifle. All this time he thought Tracer was going to offer her dealer credits for the Syk and now he finds out that she’s offering him potential information that could put their Autobot comrades at great risk. She was even more desperate than Smokey had ever realized, willing to place her own kind in danger just to satisfy her drug habit. He was very disappointed in her, but his anger was still squarely directed at Oil Slick as he was the one feeding her addiction and taking advantage of her weakness in any way that he could. This had to stop before more lives than just their own were put in jeopardy. This whole situation had become even more serious than expected.

Carefully peaking through the branches once again, Smokescreen kept a close watch on everything that was going on, looking for just the right opening to make his move. He still had a plan to execute, after all, but now he also needed to get the data slug back from Oil Slick’s clutches as well as steal whatever Syk the Decepticon chemist had on him. With enough of the drug in Smokey’s possession, Tracer wouldn’t need to worry about meeting her dealer again, and the rallybot would be able to slowly wean her off the narcotic. It was a bold plan, one that had just become more complicated, but the diversion expert remained undaunted. He was determined to help Tracer out of this mess no matter the risks to himself.

Southern Mongolia – Rendezvous Point

Her hand was shaking again. It was becoming harder to keep them still. She nearly dropped the slug when Oil Slick stepped forward to take possession of the small device, but she held fast. She didn’t need to destroy all of the information before she received her reward.

Reward. How could she even consider the concoction Oil Slick created a reward? At best it was a crutch. At worst it was a means to a slow death.

The mental image of dying a slow agonizing death filled Tracer’s processor. The scout tried desperately to shake the uneasy thought but nothing seemed to help. Everything and anything was filling her mind, all of it moving at the speed of light, it was so hard to focus.

Tracer lowered her hand when the chemist took the data slug from her and carefully looked at it. He seemed to be satisfied with the instrument as he turned his full attention to Tracer herself. A grimace formed on her face as another surge of pain washed over her already sensitive frame. A low groan escaped at the same time she placed a hand over her mid-section. What is he waiting for? Just give me the Syk so we both can get out of here.

After what seemed like vorns Oil Slick finally responded to her request. However, what he said shocked the femme.

“Wha…what? How did it affect me? How can you even ask me that?!”

Tracer’s optics grew bright, but the illumination only lasted for a moment as the pain from her sudden forward movement caused her to fall to one knee. She slowly looked up to the Decepticon and knew that she would never get what she needed until he got what he wanted.

“It didn’t even last as long as the last batch. I can’t even focus anymore.”

The femme remained on the ground in front of the chemist, now on both knees. She averted her optics not out of fear, but shame.

“You want to know how I feel. I feel like my whole world is collapsing around me. The pain coursing through every circuit and every nerve sensor is excruciating. It takes every ounce of energy I have just to leave my quarters. I need the Syk just to function. I…I can’t go on without it. All of the thoughts, all of the plans; all of it racing in my processor, I just want it to stop.”

Tracer grew quiet as she finally turned her gaze up to Oil Slick. She knew he would feel no remorse or have a care for what happened to her in the end. The chemist was only concerned with gathering information in order to refine and perfect his narcotic.

But she was desperate.

“Please. I gave you what you wanted now give me the Syk and tell me what information you’ll want in exchange for our next meeting.”

She raised her hand and placed it gently on her forehead just below the chevron. The pain had now migrated to her cranium causing another low groan to escape her vocalizer.

“Please.”

Southern Mongolia – Rendezvous Point

Oil Slick looked down at Tracer as she spoke. He saw a brief flash of anger on her face before it was buried in pain. He watched and listened as she tried to describe the pain of withdrawal. He was able to glean a few valuable nuggets of information from her ranting and begging, which had no effect on him. Emotions like pity and sympathy just weren’t a part of him anymore. Scientific curiosity was the only thing he felt at the moment. “Interesting.”

The Decepticon opened a hatch on his hip and produced a sealed vial. “This sample should be sufficient to maintain you for sometime. It is another new variant, so I will want another full report on the affects as part of the payment.” He held the vial down in front of her optics so she could see it, but maintained his grip on it. “The cost of your next batch will be the locations of all Autobots in this system, including orbiting vessels and any Autobots planetside. That information will earn you a significant dose next time that should keep you satisfied for quite some time. I am working on another variant that is quite potent.”

The chemist moved the vial down towards Tracer’s hands. “Take it, and speak of our meetings and arrangements to no one or you will never receive any more Syk again, and you know what that will do to you.”