The Energon Pub

Medical Bay – Private Room

“What happened was you vanished. You and Megatron just…” Optimus’s optics narrowed. “You two were engaged in a fight and it was…one minute you were there and the next, nothing.”

“Hmm…” Optimus couldn’t count how many times it seemed like he just suddenly was someplace else in the past vorn, but it almost sounded as if Ratchet were referring to a particular instance. His blue optics slid toward Pharma as the medic expressed his own indignation. It seemed as if it were news to Autobots not stationed…wherever this was.

“We searched but you were gone.” Optimus let out a sigh, leaning his head back onto the slab. It seemed he had caused this Ratchet and the Autobots here some grief. “But everyone is fine.”

“I am sorry, old friend, for the trouble I’ve caused you,” Optimus stated lifting a hand a placing it lightly on the CMO’s shoulder. After a moment, he let his hand fall away to allow Ratchet to continue. Minutes passed as Prime stared patiently at his dear friend. He knew not when this pleasant reality would be stripped from him, and he would be thrust into another nightmarish landscape. He intended to enjoy it while it lasted.

Talk of another patient piqued Optimus’s interest. However, Ratchet pulled Pharma to the side out of earshot. Ratchet seemed intent on keeping something from him. Optimus had sensed it earlier but hadn’t wanted to press the matter. As the other medic left the room – presumably to deal with this other patient – Optimus rose from the slab, swinging his legs over the side to stand.

“Optimus. Can you remember anything, anything at all, that happened to the two of you?”

“You’ll have to be more specific, I think, Ratchet. Megatron and I have had our fair share of encounters over the vorns,” Prime stated simply. “Earth, Cybertron, countless other worlds in recent memory…” Optimus looked over to Ratchet, “Where are we now? What was happening before I vanished?”

Medical Bay – Secluded Area

Wheeljack kept his focus on Trailbreaker’s damaged shield emitter as Blurr staggered over to a med berth right next to the black mech and plopped down in a very tired fashion. The blue speedster’s entire ordeal down on the surface had clearly taken a lot out of him. The mention of an energon plague seemed to re-enforce that fact. “I can imagine it was nasty,” the Autobot inventor commented as he continued his work. “And, yes, everyone made it out okay. ‘Breaker here just has a burnt out force field emitter. He overloaded it. I’m almost done fixing it, though.”

The mechanical engineer then sighed at Blurr’s final query, an answer to which had already been given. That and the longer his attention was diverted from Trailbreaker’s shield emitter the longer it would take to finally get it fixed. Regardless, Wheeljack put on a friendly face and smiled at the former race champion. “To my knowledge, Blurr, we didn’t lose anybody. Like I said, everyone made it out okay. Many ‘bots were severely damaged, including Veneer, who seems to have suffered the most critical injuries. However, even he will ultimately pull through.

“As for what else you missed, not much as far as I'm presently aware. Everyone’s just healing or enjoying some downtime. But, bear in mind, since I got back I’ve been preoccupied here in the med bay with fixing Smokescreen and now ‘Breaker. So, I’m a little out of the loop on what’s going on elsewhere. You might want to check the frigate’s logs for any additional information.” The mad scientist paused for a moment before adding, “Once you’re feeling up to it, of course.”

Wheeljack then returned his full attention to Trailbreaker’s left palm and the broken emitter within as the defensive strategist gently swayed from side to side. It was a bit annoying but nothing the mechanical engineer couldn’t work around. In fact, he got used to the movement after a while. The black mech then cried out in pain, but managed to keep his hand still. “Sorry about that, ‘Breaker. I’m trying my best not to burn the surrounding nerve receptors, but it’s not easy. Just bare with me a little longer.”

Once Trailbreaker noticed the presence of Blurr, he couldn’t help but mention that he had the great pleasure of watching one of the courier's races a long time ago. “I bet it was a fun time for you, ‘Breaker,” Wheeljack agreed as he soldered another connection before moving on to the next one that needed to be fixed. “I, unfortunately, never had that pleasure. I wasn’t really into racing, I’m afraid. Too busy inventing stuff even before the war broke out. Still, I did see a race on the video feeds once while I toiled away in my lab. Seemed exciting.”

After another half breem the final connection was finally soldered together and the inventor withdrew the implement, placing it back into his toolkit. “There, all done. You’re force field emitter is as good as new, Trailbreaker. Try not to overload it next time. Ok?” Wheeljack chuckled as he stood up with his toolkit in hand. Before he could say anything more, the drunken mech gestured towards Tracer’s med slab, taking note that a tear was trickling down her cheek. “I’ll check on her. Thanks, ‘Breaker.”

Wheeljack then made his way to Tracer’s side and leaned over her, placing his toolkit down on a nearby table while pulling out a portable scanner. After activating the device, the engineer held it out over top of her prone form and did a slow sweeping motion across her frame. Once done, the inventor checked the results which appeared to be in the normal range, at least for a troubled femme with the types of problems she had. The drug-addicted scout seemed to be very slowly waking up from the high dosage of Syk she had previously taken and which was now fully integrated throughout her systems. However, she was still mostly unconscious and thus ‘Jack could not immediately determine why she appeared to be crying. Was she in pain and, if so, why? Was something upsetting her? Was she dreaming or was it something else all together? Unfortunately, the scanner’s results were inconclusive in those areas.

“Tracer,” Wheeljack whispered near one of her audio receptors so that no one else could hear him. “Can you hear me? I need you to wake up. Come on, now, snap out of it. I need you to tell me what’s wrong. Please, Tracer.” The inventor gently shook the femme in the hope that it would help to finally wake her from her paralysis.

Medbay

Side Burn had transfered off the Trion a while ago; and while they had fought hard, the sudden assault by the Fallen had left almost the entire crew in various forms of dissassembly. Thankfully, they had managed to fend him off, but not without losses.

He slowly ambled into the medbay of the Guardian, his right leg mangled in the excursion with the Decepticon spy aboard the ship he'd gotten here on, and laser burns lacing his body. The mangled leg was holding on by a thread, and every step was painful; but he knew there were members more seriously injured than him, and so he waited his turn. His optics glanced over the rest of the crew. Almost everyone bore the wounds of this battle, both physical and emotional. As of now, it was a matter of picking up the pieces left by the Fallen's rampage.

Looking over the medbay, even with medics and the whole group working as fast as they could, Side Burn felt a drop in his spark; they were now extremely vulnurable to a Decepticon raid; and in the sorry state this whole team was in, they'd be utterly decimated. Especially with Prime out of commission for the moment, which would only cause more friction and tension.

Pulling up a map of the surrounding area on his scouter, he waited for any possible signs of incoming vessels. So far, there were none; but he had to remain vigilant, just for everyone's safety.

"Primus, we're in a sorry shape. If the 'Cons make a jump on us now, I'd say we're toast!" he said, leaning against a wall and trying not to shift a lot of weight upon the mangled leg.

Medical Bay – Secluded Area

“Oh hey! If it isn’t the fasted mech alive!”

Blurr grinned and gave Trailbreaker a tired wave. It seemed like the outlier had seen one of his races back in the old days. Heh. Those were the days. But the blue speedster didn’t exactly miss them. His function in the Autobots let him race all the time, and these races meant something. That was enough for him.

“I think your other patient is crying.”

“Hm?” Blurr leaned up off the slab curiously to peer over to the indicated femme. What do you know? It did look like she was crying. Weird… Before Blurr could do or say anything about it, however, Wheeljack got around to answering him.

“To my knowledge, Blurr, we didn’t lose anybody. Like I said, everyone made it out okay. Many ‘bots were severely damaged, including Veneer, who seems to have suffered the most critical injuries. However, even he will ultimately pull through.”

“Phew,” Blurr sighed with relief, “I’m glad.” It seemed like he hadn’t missed too much while he had been out either. Definitely a plus. Now he just needed some energon to feel like his old self again. Wheeljack went off to check on the crying femme. Probably for the best. He could wait. Well, slag, he could go get some energon, couldn’t he? He had two legs.

Blurr slowly and carefully got to his feet – he didn’t want to just fall back down onto the slab again. “I think I’m going to get some energon, ‘Breaker. I’m not feeling too great,” Blurr chuckled and shuffled around the corner into the main section of the medical bay. He stopped when he heard a familiar voice.

"Primus, we're in a sorry shape. If the 'Cons make a jump on us now, I'd say we're toast!"

Blurr’s optics widened for a moment as they alighted upon the warrior. He grinned widely. “Well, look who it is! Side Burn! I didn’t think you were stationed on Earth. What happened to your leg?” The blue racer asked, nodding toward Side Burn’s leg. Resting against the wall, Blurr took a moment to gather some strength. Primus, moving around was really taking it out of him.

Medical Bay

Foximus wrote:Blurr’s optics widened for a moment as they alighted upon the warrior. He grinned widely. “Well, look who it is! Side Burn! I didn’t think you were stationed on Earth. What happened to your leg?” The blue racer asked, nodding toward Side Burn’s leg. Resting against the wall, Blurr took a moment to gather some strength. Primus, moving around was really taking it out of him.

Side Burn smiled as his eyes spotted Blurr.

"Yo, Blurr! Surprised to see you again."
The question caught him off-guard, but Side Burn wouldn't let Blurr figure that out.

"We were caught off-guard by a Decepticon spy when getting over here in the Trion; in the crossfire, I got hit in the leg...and you can see the results." he said, rubbing the back of his head in slight embarrasment.

"And really, if anything good came out of this battle, it's the fact that with Megatron out of commission for a while, rounding out the rest of the Decepticons will be much easier...hopefully. Without the leader, the rest will crumble."

((OOC-Going to dabble with Grapple for a bit, for the sake of keeping things flowing here and there. We'll see if he sticks.))

Medical Bay

Grapple had bounced around from one ship to another, checking on varying energy maintenance procedures and generally keeping the current Autobot fleet running in tip-top condition. He'd received a request for proposal from Kup about some of the Terran operations and he hadn't quite got around to looking at them yet. But that was next on his list, certainly next. At least he thought it was. The list never really seemed to get any shorter, no matter how much he worked.

He walked through the doors of the medical bay, datapad in hand, before looking up to see where he was. Oh. The medical bay. Bug it, that's not where he was going. How'd he get turned around?

As he started to leave, he heard voices coming from another area of the bay.

"...We were caught off-guard by a Decepticon spy when getting over here in the Trion; in the crossfire, I got hit in the leg...and you can see the results. And really, if anything good came out of this battle, it's the fact that with Megatron out of commission for a while, rounding out the rest of the Decepticons will be much easier...hopefully. Without the leader, the rest will crumble."

The Trion? Someone from that impressive new battleship he'd read so much about was actually in this med bay? That was intriguing...

Grapple followed the sounds of the voices until he found the owners of the voices--Blurr and Side Burn. And apparently Wheeljack. And Trailbreaker. Good lord. Just how many casualties had they suffered down in that fallen debacle?

"Ah, sorry. I, um, I didn't intend to eavesdrop. But did I hear correctly? Was someone actually aboard the Trion?"

Medical Bay: Security Isolation Ward

Ultra Magnus could feel each of his actuators dig deeper into his palms, to the point where he swore if he left his emotions unchecked they would rupture against his impenetrable armor. "No Prowl, it would not solve anything." He finally forced the words up from the depths of his vocorder, though in a half believing tone. "Megatron's venom has spread far and wide. Corrupted far too many of his followers to his immeasurable will that even if we were to execute him, it would change nothing."

He slowly looked over his shoulder, barely absorbing the silhouettes of Prowl and Jazz out of his peripheral vision. His expression was barely readable as he schooled his emotional turmoil."Let us not forget, even in his brief absence, they have managed to at least exist. Eliminating him now would only serve to further him as a martyr and embolden the Decepticon forces into an even greater fervor. Thus killing Megatron now would serve no purpose beyond satisfying the basest need or desire for revenge."

The phrase was allowed to settle, though he know Prowl would see the ultimate if unwanted logic in his decision, Magnus himself barely wished to acknowledge those words for the truth they held. Megatron had not only been the sole architect for the war they had endured for eons, responsible for the deaths of countless life forms... cybertronic or otherwise, no he had also corrupted one of the few purest elements Cybertron had ever brought up from the well. Again he slowly returned his icy filled gaze at the slowly stirring Megatron. The sight of gunmetal gray sickened him.

"Whether or not Optimus desires to take charge of Megatron's fate is also irrelevant Jazz," he continued without preamble. "If we are to stand above the ideals or misguided rhetoric of the Decepticons, we Autobots must serve a higher function. That means we must honor the laws that have been in placed for these potential eventualities."

A palpable silence fell over Magnus as he absorbed the sight of the former gladiator, the instrument of so much destruction. "Jazz, have Megatron's confiscated weapons and equipment transferred from holding to Ironfist. Tell him that these weapons were recovered from the last engagement. They are probably rigged with safety protocols to prevent tampering, so remind him to use extreme caution..."

He stepped forward as the former gladiator stirred again, this time barely turning his head to take in the powerful figure of Ultra Magnus himself. Inwardly Magnus imagined the roles reversed, were he on the slab and Megatron the one staring down at a nemesis, an object of constant strife and anguish. The only difference in that scenario and this was that Megatron was not staring down the barrel of a fusion cannon. Magnus again allowed a brief sneer of contempt to edge the corner of his lips as the brows above his optics forced them to narrow. "That is correct Megatron," he kept his tone as neutral as he could as he responded to the captured leader of the Decepticon military. "I am indeed Ultra Magnus."

The defacto Autobot Commander paused briefly, narrowing down what he wished to reveal to their prisoner. It was best not to tell him anything that would test the weakened mech's reserves and threaten the Guardian. Sooner or later, once Kup completed his assignment, Megatron would be left to the tender mercies of Ironhide, Prowl and well, it was probably too cruel to include Ratchet into that mix... given the Medic's personal history. Still courtesy demanded at least the most basic of information be given... even Megatron would have shared that much before melting one's processor unit to slag. "You are currently in a secured facility... you were grievously injured, and are to be treated for those injuries in according to the ancient treaties."

Armory

Hot Spot walked into the armory and noticed he was the third one in the group to make it in there. He kept to himself and instead walked around finding the equipment he needed. His processor kept on going over a fear that hopefully will be avoided. Rarely did Hot Spot deal with the 'what ifs' of a situation but the thought of having a fight with the Cons so close to the humans bothered him. They were still in phase one or possibly two but if a fight broke out, than they would jump much farther down the phases quicker than either side probably wanted. However, the missing weapon may have already done that depending on how much the Earthlings have learned about their technology. He hoped Prowl wouldn't go over the line this time and think logically on how to deal with any confrontation. If it is the Combaticons who are sent to retrieve the missile and knowing Onslaught it will be them, then maybe a somewhat peaceful solution could be found if they are confronted by the Cons even if it meant giving them back their rightful equipment. His mind then refocused on the actual mission so he went to the ship's database to look up possible avatars. The only ones which made sense to him was a local fire department outfit or a military looking one. After some consideration Hot Spot went with the local civilian look. The real catch is their cover story for being on the base to start. As quickly as he entered in, he left the armory and headed down to the bouncing pad.

Bounce Chamber

Once Hot Spot entered the bounce chamber, he noticed the log indicating the bounces down to the Earth location of Peru where the new Autobot base is currently under construction. To his surprise, a good number of Bots already went down beyond the expected construction and engineering teams. Either Ultra Magnus is really concerned on how the project was going or maybe this was a form of R&R due to the recent headaches they have had. Hot Spot wasn't sure if such a project would be good for him or his team but he has his current mission to do and his team will be left on the Guardian with the exception of First Aid.

Medical Bay – Private Room

“I am sorry, old friend, for the trouble I’ve caused you,”

The CMO caught that but waited several moments before he responded. He stared hard into the Prime’s optics and smiled. “You’ve been causing me trouble since the day we met, Orion. There’s no need to start apologizing now.”

His Prime sounded lost; almost unsure of whether he was absolutely positive he was speaking with one of his oldest friends. Ratchet was only slightly worried though. Optimus had already been through so much, this was not something his Prime couldn’t handle.

Ratchet straightened to his full height, shoulders back and down, chest lifted, chin lifted. This was Optimus Prime whatever he needed to work through; Ratchet would be by his side.

That was about the time Prime tried to answer his question, but he didn’t quite get the answer he was expecting.

“You’ll have to be more specific, I think, Ratchet. Megatron and I have had our fair share of encounters over the vorns, Earth, Cybertron, countless other worlds in recent memory…”

Ratchet regarded Optimus for a moment before he made his way by the Prime’s side.

“Where are we now? What was happening before I vanished?”

The CMO let a short moment pass before he rubbed the chevron adorning his forehead. He looked down to the floor and let out a heavy sigh. “I think the better question to ask is what hasn’t happened since you’d vanished…” Ratchet looked back up and offered Prime a forced awkward smile.
Ratchet gestured back to the slab that Prime had previously risen from. He waited a moment until Optimus was seated comfortably and then sat down beside him.

“You want more specific.” Ratchet waited a moment. “You’re on the Protectobot’s medical frigate, Guardian.” Ratchet shook his head.

“You and Megatron vanished while we were all on Earth. There was an explosion…the ‘Con’s base within Mount St. Helens it was destroyed, the volcano erupted…and then you were gone.” Again Ratchet shook his head.

“We searched for any remains but we didn’t find anything.” His shoulders slumped slightly as he went on. “This escalated after your disappearance. Something else happened, I don’t know if it came about because you were gone or if it was just a fluke…” Ratchet looked to Optimus his optics locking with his leader. “The Fallen arrived. He took possession of Hot Rod’s body called himself Rodimus Prime. He then, either possessed or manipulated four other mechs… two of ours, Hardhead and Hex and two of the ‘Cons, Darkride and Drag Strip.”

“We stopped him. With the help of the Decepticons, we stopped him, but that temporary truce was just that; temporary.” He looked back at Prime and smirked. “And then we found you.”

“Now…” the CMO refocused, his brow furrowed as he took in Prime completely, “How about you tell me everything you remember. Hell, I’ll even take everything you don’t remember.”

Medical Bay – Security Isolation Ward

Prowl’s attention was drawn away from Megatron and Ultra Magnus as Jazz spoke to him. In the special operations director’s opinion it was Prime’s call to make in regards to the fate of the imprisoned slagmaker. It wasn’t that Jazz was against the idea of killing Megatron. Not at all. He just felt that maybe Optimus saw something within Megatron that the rest of them didn’t. The military strategist scoffed at the idea, but he wouldn’t be surprised if it was true and Prime did, in fact, see something worth saving in the Decepticon leader. Furthermore, the possibility that the two of them had managed to work something out while trapped in whatever hellhole they had disappeared to seemed very unlikely.

“I doubt they worked anything out, Jazz,” Prowl stated plainly as Megatron stirred again on the holding slab, drawing the black and white’s attention back to the slagmaker. Before the prick-bot could say anything further, Ultra Magnus gave his own response to Prowl’s previous question as to why they couldn’t just kill Megatron once he had been sufficiently interrogated. Magnus reasoned that executing the Decepticon leader would change nothing as the slagmaker’s influence had spread too far and wide. The Decepticons would fight on without him as they already had during his brief absence. They had rallied behind a new leader, Razorclaw, and had clearly shown their intent to continue the war even though Megatron was seemingly gone. Killing Megatron at this time would only enrage his followers and make him a martyr. Thus, the slagmaker’s death would be nothing more than an act of revenge.

Of course, Prowl was not above getting revenge just as long as it served the greater good of the Autobot war machine. Killing Megatron would do just that, but the military strategist also understood the reasoning behind the City Commander’s stance as flawed as it was. That reasoning was based more on fear of the slagmaker becoming a martyr and less on eliminating a great threat. “I understand your position, Ultra Magnus. The Decepticons would continue fighting without him as they already have under Razorclaw. But, bare in mind, they are still unaware that Megatron is alive and has been found. As far as they know, he’s still missing and likely dead. Thus nothing for them would change from what we’ve already seen if we did decide to execute him after interrogation,” Prowl pointed out as he paused for a brief moment before continuing. “Of course, there is always a chance that the ‘Cons could find out that we executed him and then your concerns of Megatron becoming a martyr might come to fruition. But I feel that risk is worth taking if it means the most dangerous Decepticon alive would be permanently removed from the overall equation.”

Prowl relaxed his fists and took one step forward towards Ultra Magnus, speaking in a more calm and collected tone. “It’s not about revenge for me, Magnus. It’s about protecting our fellow Autobots from a powerful adversary that could single-handedly wipe them out. Keeping the slagmaker alive and imprisoned is all well and good as long as he doesn’t manage to escape. And what if he does? What if he somehow finds a way? You and I both know how smart and cunning he is. We might be able to hold him for a while, but I can’t imagine any cell capable of holding Megatron forever. If he got out he would tear through everyone here like a whirlwind force of destruction. Countless lives would be lost as a result. Not to mention if the 'Cons eventually discover that we have him. They would come for him. They wouldn't stop searching until they found him and then we'd have a fight on our hands along with the ensuing slaughter when Megatron was finally freed.”

The military strategist let out a deep sigh as Magnus then spoke to Jazz about serving a higher function and honoring the laws that were already in place. “That’s all well and good, but Megatron has no honor and he won’t follow any laws if he gets free. He’ll kill everyone in sight. And with Prime laid up for the foreseeable future, there will be no one to stop him. That being said, I will abide by your wishes in regards to Megatron’s ultimate fate, and I still would like to participate in any interrogations that are conducted once my mission is done. However, don’t say I didn’t warn you of the dangers of keeping him alive long term.”

Having said his peace, Prowl turned and began walking towards the security corridor that led out into the med bay proper as Magnus gave orders to Jazz in regards to Megatron's weaponry. Stopping at the threshold, the military strategist transmitted the appropriate security codes and the various force shields flickered off. The black and white then glanced back at Ultra Magnus. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, Commander, I need to get down to the armory. I’m sure my team is wondering where I’m at. I’ll provide you with regular updates as to our progress with retrieving the missiles as I am able.”

With a respectful nod given, Prowl turned and entered the security corridor, walking its entire length before ultimately leaving the isolation ward all together.

Main Science Laboratory

Ironfist absorbed the rhetoric, the hypothetical and highly improbable as he silently worked on a complex series of mathematical calculations. He placed each solution to each formula into working models that he had been toying with since the beginning of the first official meeting of the Superior Titan Project. Initially, he had taken the first concept that had been proposed to the group with regards to a requirement to combination, and while had attempted to refute it there as potential in its simplicity. Thus he narrowed down the possible candidates who fitted a stringent set of requirements focusing on service time, functional compatibility and various other quantifiable elements too numerous to quote. Eventually the list he had created featured several hundred Autobots spread out across the galaxy. Given the parameters of the models, the Protectobots managed to barely qualify due to time served together since the beginning of hostilities. Even units that were less obscure fell upon the list, the Aerialbots however did not. Ironfist reasoned it was because the squadron itself was a relatively knew construction, cobbled together for the defense of Earth itself. The Wreckers headed the list.

Making sure his face plate was secured, the weapons engineer allowed a feint grin to trace his lips at the mental image that immediately emerged as he caught sight of the names of the Wreckers at the top of his monitor. Three triple changers, Broadside could serve as the torso, Sandstorm and Springer could serve as the legs while Topspin and Twin Twist could serve as powerful arms. The very mention of the Wreckers was enough to send shivers through most every Decepticon in the cosmos... the sight of a Gestalt made up of them?...

Ironfist set the list aside into a separate file before he turned his attention to the next line of discussion. It was interesting and insightful, it also gave him a factor he had not initially considered. Returning to his model, the weapons engineer installed a new dynamic into his equations, not simply service time... in fact he scraped that qualification all together, and instead replaced it with another element that he had not initially considered. IF his own hypothesis was true, then physical connection was as common as the transformation cog. But the true power behind the Gestalt was not only genetic... He paused on the idea as he glanced up to the conference.

"Look," he finally broke his silence. "We can speculate about who is actually compatible with this new potential procedure and who isn't till we run out of energon and our pipes rust. The Aerialbots may very well be compatible, same with the Protectobots. But the same could also be said for the rest of us. At present we just do not have enough evidence to determine what makes them unique... yet."

Ironfist brought up his working model to the main holographic projector. Immediately five separate orbs each flickering in familiar colors. One was colored green and another hard ultra violet. The engineer shrunk the two orbs to the far left corner of the display where they pulsed. The remaining holographic representations were that of the three most common forms of Spark core. "However, I may have a hypothesis that could give us a better insight as to how to determine who is compatible and to what degree. These three images are of the most commonly found spark cores across Cybertron. They are almost indistinguishable from one another except for subtle phase resonance frequencies that each type uses. But I propose that within those resonance frequencies, there is a sub-harmonic resonance that runs on an entirely separate subspace phase frequency. Furthermore, I would also suggest that resonance matches with those in to which it is compatible." He allowed his mathematical model to play out its little animation.

"Secondly," He paused briefly to pause the animation after the third run through of the three spark cores being broken down to lines of numerical data to represent the hypothetical resonance he sought. "I would like to think that these resonance sub frequencies are already active by sheer proximity to matching frequencies thus allowing compatible units to instinctively react to one another... almost as if they are mentally united in some gestalt mind already."

Ironfist placed his hands at the edge of his work station and leaned forward. "If I am right, it may be possible to use that sub-harmonic resonance frequency to merge portions or attributes of the original units. Each one donating or contributing a portion of their own spark resonance, or perhaps a duplicated version of said wave to form a coherent and unique individual. Thus the sum of the parts become the basis of the whole."

Medical Bay Proper

As Prowl exited the security corridor and entered into the primary medical facility, he received an encrypted transmission from Bluestreak down on the surface. The blue and silver gunner was requesting that Construct-bots be sent down to assist with the excavation and building of Autobot City along with the services of both Grapple and Hoist if they were available. The black and white groaned under his breath at the irritating sound of the chatterbot’s vocals filling his comm line and internal audios. Thankfully, the request was brief, at least by Blue’s standards.

The military strategist glanced around the room, catching sight of the familiar orange mech in question. “Grapple!” Prowl shouted over all of the commotion within the busy med bay as he quickly approached the architect who was talking with Blurr and Side Burn. The black and white wasted no time with pleasantries and simply got right down to business, keeping his focus on Grapple and ignoring the others. “I have a new assignment for you. Round up as many of those construct-bots as you can find and take them down with you to the construction site of Autobot City in Peru. From what I understand you have already received an RFP from Kup, correct? Then let's not waste time, shall we. Also, find Hoist if he’s available and take him with you, as well. The two of you used to work marvels back on Cybertron before the war and I expect nothing less here.”

Prowl then paused and pulled out a datapad before handing it over to Grapple. “All the details of what has been done thus far in Peru is contained therein. Huffer’s already on site and leading things. Once you are down there take charge of the operation and work with him on what still needs to be done. He may not like handing the reigns over to you, but you are the Autobots’ chief architect. Therefore, he should understand and bring you up to speed.” After another brief moment of silence, the strategist continued. “Now, if you have no questions for me, I have to get going. I’m already a bit late for a mission of my own.”

As the black and white waited for a response, he sent a quick non-verbal reply back to Bluestreak, informing him that help was on its way.

Medical Bay – Secluded Area

"We were caught off-guard by a Decepticon spy when getting over here in the Trion; in the crossfire, I got hit in the leg...and you can see the results. And really, if anything good came out of this battle, it's the fact that with Megatron out of commission for a while, rounding out the rest of the Decepticons will be much easier...hopefully. Without the leader, the rest will crumble."

“Yeah, yeah. We can only hope. Heh. Only, it’s a bit harder for us without Optimus,” Blurr replied. He glanced down to Side Burn’s leg. That looked pretty nasty. Blurr winced in sympathy. “Hopefully one of the medics can get to you soon, but I know they’re busy.”

"Ah, sorry. I, um, I didn't intend to eavesdrop. But did I hear correctly? Was someone actually aboard the Trion?"

“Hm?” Blurr turned slightly as he glanced over his shoulder to note Grapple standing in the medical bay. Why was he here? He didn’t look really injured. Maybe the medical staff needed the skills of the Constructbots. “Hey Grapple! No worries, c’mon over,” Blurr said with a smile, waving the engineer over.

“Yeah, Side Burn here was on the Trion. Apparently there was some excitement in getting it over here too. Something about a Decepticon spy,” Blurr explained pleasantly, chuckling at himself for a moment, “I’d actually prefer a Decepticon spy to what we had to go through just a little while ago. Blazing demigods and crazy heralds. That Drag Strip bit me!” Blurr lifted up his arm indignantly, “Little glitch gave me an energon virus for my trouble, but thankfully Smokey got him.”

Blurr stopped when he heard Prowl’s voice carry across the medical bay. The blue speedster looked over to him. The strategist marched over to them with his usual urgency and stiffness and issued orders about an Autobot City. Autobot City, huh? That sounded interesting. He ought to go check that out after he refueled and felt somewhat alive again. He looked over to Side Burn.

“Autobot City sounds kinda interesting. Wanna check that out after you get your leg fixed, and I get some energon?”


Armory

“Alright, I’ve done the rounds three times, reset my security codes, briefed myself on the latest reports…double checked and rechecked all of that…I feel like I’m forgetting something…” Red Alert muttered consulting a data pad as he walked into the armory. “Something…important…Maybe I should retrace my steps…”

“Autobot Presence Detected…” Echoed a voice as he entered the armory. It immediately gave Red Alert pause, jolting him still for a moment with wide optics as he looked all around. He relaxed by degrees when he saw that Eject was the only one out in the open. “Subject: Red Alert has entered the Armory.” Had Eject set that alarm? Why? Only noticing the ranger in the armament platform now, Red Alert realized that it must have been Nova Strike who had set it. Very sensible. In case of attack, one would be alerted beforehand. The computer’s welcome might even scare away any attempts on one’s life.

Nodding with approval, Red Alert walked over to one of the weapons lockers and resupplied his rocket launcher as well as began to clean and fine tune his other weapons but always careful to keep one at the ready. Just in case. “Are you alright, [n]Nova Strike[/b]? That looks a little painful,” Red Alert commented, keeping an optic on the ranger and another on the doorway. Maybe Nova had caught himself in some sort of death trap. If he didn’t answer, Red was primed to spring into action at a moments’ notice. He’d give him three astroseconds…two astroseconds…one…


Medical Bay – Private Room

” You’ve been causing me trouble since the day we met, Orion. There’s no need to start apologizing now.”

Optimus smiled wryly at Ratchet. That perhaps might be a bit too true lately. He must have caused various Ratchets varying degrees of sparkache by now. He let out a soft sigh and shook his head. He watched as Ratchet considered his question and made his way over to his side. He looked as if a heavy burden weighed on his mind. Optimus rested a reassuring hand on Ratchet’s shoulder.

“I think the better question to ask is what hasn’t happened since you’d vanished…”

Ratchet offered him an awkward smile, which earned the CMO a concerned look from the Prime. His friend gestured to the slab. Uh oh. If Ratchet wanted him to sit, it was likely some fairly dire news. Obliging Ratchet, Optimus moved back to the slab and took a seat somewhat impatiently. He was eager to hear this Ratchet out. Perhaps he could alleviate some of his friend’s worries.

“You want more specific.” Ratchet paused. “You’re on the Protectobot’s medical frigate, Guardian.”

“The Guardian? I should have known…but it has been a while…” Optimus glanced around at that. He should have noticed…but he couldn’t be too hard on himself for not realizing. Still.

“You and Megatron vanished while we were all on Earth. There was an explosion…the ‘Con’s base within Mount St. Helens it was destroyed, the volcano erupted…and then you were gone.”

Optimus frowned at this, his brow furrowed. Earth? Mount St. Helens? But that had been…

“…vorns ago…” Optimus muttered softly, clearly vexed.

“We searched for any remains but we didn’t find anything.” Ratchet’s shoulders slumped slightly as he went on. Optimus looked to him and rested a hand on his old friend’s shoulder once more. “This escalated after your disappearance. Something else happened, I don’t know if it came about because you were gone or if it was just a fluke…”

“Escalated? How so? What is it?” Optimus asked. Ratchet locked optics with him. ”The Fallen arrived.” The Prime’s blue optics went wide as he placed a hand over his chest. His optics almost immediately narrowed as Ratchet continued. ”He took possession of Hot Rod’s body called himself Rodimus Prime. He then, either possessed or manipulated four other mechs… two of ours, Hardhead and Hex and two of the ‘Cons, Darkride and Drag Strip.”

“That does seem too convenient a coincidence for the Fallen…My and Megatron’s disappearance…”

“We stopped him. With the help of the Decepticons, we stopped him, but that temporary truce was just that; temporary.” Ratchet looked back at Prime and smirked. “And then we found you.”

Prime looked away and rubbed his chin thoughtfully. The Fallen. It was hard to believe. But of course, he did believe that this Ratchet was sure that all had happened. That these Autobots had gone through all of that suffering and turmoil. Yet they had emerged victorious. Without either him or Megatron. Optimus wanted to help. To aid these Autobots in rebuilding and recovering. But…He…this reality might simply be stripped away from him in an instant as many already had been.

“Now…” Optimus’s optics flicked back over to regard his CMO’s familiar face. “How about you tell me everything you remember. Hell, I’ll even take everything you don’t remember.”

“Of course,” Optimus replied, “But you may not be satisfied with my answer.” He paused a moment to collect his thoughts. His memories were all quite hazy. Some were more vivid and distinct than others. “I remember Mount St. Helens. Megatron and I were fighting while the base began to crumble around us, and…then…I remember waking up in the medical ward on this frigate. You were treating me for my injuries. I began to plan our next move with Prowl and Ironhide…but we were suddenly attack by the Decepticons. It was a chaotic battle…I recall seeing you…”

Optimus stopped. His fists clenched, he trembled for a moment before calming himself. “We lost. There…were…executions. I broke free and attempted to stop them but…” Optimus shook his head. “I was shot or…attacked from behind perhaps? I can’t…” The Prime held his head in his hands for a moment.

“I woke up marooned on a moon of a different world, I think? Or perhaps that was another time…” Optimus sighed and shook his head. “It was a few orns before I saw you again. Alive. Whole. Intact. You didn’t recall the attack on the Guardian at all. There were several other times later when I saw…you and many of the other Autobots dead. Others you were alive. Sometimes you remembered. Others not. The only constant is Megatron.”

Optimus gazed sadly at Ratchet. “I’ve told you all this before. On multiple occasions.” He went silent for a moment, offlining his optics.

Suddenly, the prime jerked up, optics wide and alert. Hastily hopping down from the slab, he slung a protective arm out in front of Ratchet, drawing his blaster with the other. The wall of the room glowed bright red for an instant, then exploded outward. Optimus shifted himself in front of Ratchet protectively. His friend would not die again. Not if he could help it.

Through the smoke came hostile figures. They darted around in the smoke. One leaped to attack. Optimus whipped his blaster around to it and fired. The next came attacked from the side. Another shot from his blaster to deal with it. His optics darted around as he stood tensed, anticipating another attack from…from somewhere…

Medical Bay--Security Isolation Ward

"That is correct Megatron. I am indeed Ultra Magnus."

Megatron allowed the response to settle in his mind, while also adding it to the countless series of interactions he had previous to this one: interactions that seemed to filter their way through the cognitive dissonance and others that only seemed to make it worse. It was becoming a literal nightmare to try and discern what was real and what was not. Straxus back in Kaon? Starscream on the Nemesis? Being forced to kneel in chains before Nova Prime ? Engaging Optimus in some Terran jungle? All had parts that he could see...hear...touch...remember, just as this one would, no doubt. And yet all of them had an element of the foreign that he could not quite identify.

Regardless, he had decided to accept each interaction as if it were real. Eventually he would slaughter whatever was ultimately responsible for forcing him to undergo this manipulation. Nobody manipulated Megatron and lived.

"You are currently in a secured facility... you were grievously injured, and are to be treated for those injuries in according to the ancient treaties."

"Good. I'm pleased to see that at least a few among your number are still capable of observing the rules of engagement," Megatron sneered, casting a smoldering glare in the direction of the departing Prowl before returning his focus to Ultra Magnus. Whatever his current predicament, Megatron knew that there were no other Autobots that would give it to him as matter-of-factly as Ultra Magnus. The real Ultra Magnus, at least.

"So...after my grievous injuries are addressed...what then? Where are we? Where is this secure facility? Are we still on that wretched, carbon-filled mudball I found out here in the backwaters of the universe? Will you have me answer for my crimes here, Ultra Magnus? You know as well as I do, we have no jurisdiction here. None except for what I will institute when you relinquish this world to my inevitable control."

Armory

A pair of powerful plasma torches plunged deep into his right shoulder armor plate. Their intense beads of concentrated energies tore at the hardened seals around the circular plate until the outer layer of cybertonium was melted away. The torches pulled away as the large gantry crane lowered a modified boon that ended in a magnetic clamp. Swiveling at its base, the clamp pivoted ninety degrees and like a bolt of laser energy, lanced from its position to attach itself to the damaged armor plate. Without remorse, the magnetic clamp pulled back the crumpled and deformed plate and retracted towards the top of the mechanism where the collection bins were located. Nova Strike's face contorted in pain as connecting wires and circuits, sensors and sinew were torn loose.

As the clamp disappeared, a pair of smaller manipulator actuators emerged from the rear of the alcove and dove deeper into the now opened wound. Their miniature devices began wrapping around the modular cylinders that were the magnetic locks that held his forward armor plates together in cohesion...

Ten minutes of anguish passed as the equipment alcove dug into his torso, removing the standard scouting sensors he had installed before his assignment to Peru... an ever drawn out practice of agony and pain, as well as the removal of damaged components that had been neglected by the CR chamber. His cannon's main focusing crystals were replaced with newly refined gems and the power conduits were replaced as part of over due maintenance. Once that was concluded, the alcove crane lowered large black boxes that fit in the recently excavated compartment in his forward right shoulder. A newer more sensitive form of sonar was installed at the rear of the compartment, followed by a more robust radar/sensor module as well as a communications frequency scanner. While not standard issue, it would afford Nova Strike an opportunity to at least avoid pursuit by local authorities should the operation devolve to that particular point.

As the final piece of equipment was replaced or reinstalled, newer conveyor belts to his hip holster launchers as well as a generous new supply of smoke grenades, flash bangs, sonic grenades and a more efficient recharge battery for his weapon clips... the computer announced the arrival of first Eject followed, however briefly, by Hot Spot. Red Alert followed shortly after the Protectobot commander came and went. Before Nova could acknowledge them properly, the gantry drove a charged plasma bolt into the wound in his back sending a jolt of pain and electricity coursing through every joint in his body.

Nova attempted to fall to one knee but felt his descent arrested by the spike in his back. It was the worst part of his re-equipment regimen. The powerful burst of energy was necessary to kick start his body's natural repair and reconfiguration mechanization. Inside he could feel the small microscopic wires plunging into the newly installed components. Each one adapted and re-positioned to establish better connections. Immediately a flood of new data raced over his optics as his processor struggled to absorb the installation protocols of each component.

When it was done, the metal shaft retracted from the breach in his shoulder and Nova collapsed to his left knee. A waft of smoke slowly rose from the wound but was swiftly smothered as the gantry crane lowered a fresh plate to replace the one that had been removed earlier. The entire armory flickered a few times as the bright lights of the plasma torches reconnected the seams of the ranger's armor before they too fell silent as a coating of carbon fiber enhanced cybertonium was applied.

The alcove light flickered gold and the magnetic locks on his feat released their hold. Nova Strike pulled himself up to height and allowed himself a moment of rest along the back of the alcove. "Painful Red?" He coughed out as he fought to school his features. "One could say that."

After a moment he pulled himself out of the alcove and began flexing his arms and testing his joints. He ran a comprehensive diagnostic and smiled as his body successfully integrated the newer pieces of equipment. While they were not much more different than his last sensor complement, they were smaller, lighter weight and did not sacrifice on detail or range. Only problem was that they were more fragile and could be damaged if he were too careless. Once he was satisfied that everything was in proper order, the ranger emerged fully from the alcove and made his way to the armory proper.

"It is good to see you too Eject. Though I haven't been called that in too long a time." He smiled briefly at the mention of his past. "It would appear that Hot Spot has been and gone..."

He glanced back to Red Alert and offered a nod. "I hope both of you have established a set of workable covers for our operation. We won't exactly have a chance to wing it on the fly... particularly if we are dealing with the human military."

Medical Bay--Secluded Area

“Hm? Hey Grapple! No worries, c’mon over,”

Grapple smiled, nodded and walked further in, acknowledging the racing superstar directly. Certainly a rather genial Bot, for one who had achieved so much fame and success in life. To be fair, Grapple hadn't exactly struggled during his time on Cybertron once his work became more and more renowned, but Blurr was something different altogether. The architect was pleased to see that he had retained a pleasant humility even after all these vorns.

“Yeah, Side Burn here was on the Trion. Apparently there was some excitement in getting it over here too. Something about a Decepticon spy. I’d actually prefer a Decepticon spy to what we had to go through just a little while ago. Blazing demigods and crazy heralds. That Drag Strip bit me! Little glitch gave me an energon virus for my trouble, but thankfully Smokey got him.”

"Oh. Oh that doesn't sound good at all," Grapple said, doing his level best to be empathetic to Blurr's plight while also still being overwhelmingly curious as to what it was like to take a ship like the Trion on its maiden voyage.

"But you were on it?! That's just fascinating. Truly fascinating. I wonder if you'd indulge me in a few-" but before he could get any more of his thought out, there came a new interruption, though not an especially unwelcome one, if only for the fact that Grapple wanted to hear more of what the Trion ran like.

“Grapple! I have a new assignment for you. Round up as many of those construct-bots as you can find and take them down with you to the construction site of Autobot City in Peru. From what I understand you have already received an RFP from Kup, correct? Then let's not waste time, shall we. Also, find Hoist if he’s available and take him with you, as well. The two of you used to work marvels back on Cybertron before the war and I expect nothing less here.”

"Yes! Of course. I'd just finished perusing it before I wandered in here." Grapple said pleasantly, nodding in the affirmative to Prowl's question about Kup's RFP. Grapple had no aversions to Prowl. He'd overheard more than a few referring to him as a "prick-bot" and other unsavory terms, but he'd never interacted with Grapple in that manner. So he saw no reason to respond in kind. Moreover, when it came to assignments, they didn't go much higher up the chain than Prowl.

“All the details of what has been done thus far in Peru is contained therein. Huffer’s already on site and leading things. Once you are down there take charge of the operation and work with him on what still needs to be done. He may not like handing the reigns over to you, but you are the Autobots’ chief architect. Therefore, he should understand and bring you up to speed. Now, if you have no questions for me, I have to get going. I’m already a bit late for a mission of my own.”

Grapple nodded again in response, taking the datapad in hand and looking it over.

"No. No questions from me. Seems relatively straightforward, as these things go. I'll get right on those requisitions and get down there. I don't know where Hoist might have wandered off to, but I suspect he shouldn't be too hard to find."

Grapple let out a wistful sigh as he returned his attention to Blurr and Side Burn.

"Well, duty calls, it seems. I'd love to hear about what all you saw on the Trion and how she functioned. But...another time!" the architect said with a pleasant wave to both mechs before heading off to undertake Prowl's latest assignment.

Medical Bay:

“Uhh my head,” said Cliffjumper as he awoke in the medical facility. The last thing he remembered seeing was a lot of crossfire, a combining monster of some sort, and then, nothing after that. “What happened?” Cliffjumper asked himself. He then got out of the medical repair unit and said, “I need to find someone.”

Corridors leading from the MedBay:

"Welcome to the Guardian” said a mechanical voice as Cliffjumper entered a long corridor. “Apparently these computers scan whoever walks by to greet them according to how they showed up. Nice.” Cliffjumper was not impressed.

As he walked down the halls, he was quite impressed by how lost this place can get someone. “This place just keeps going does it?” said Cliffjumper to himself.

Cliff paused in the halls, and then propped his back against the wall to rest a bit. He still felt a little weak after awakening from medical repair, yet he felt slightly more alive at the same time. He felt shook up from that huge battle. “What was it that knocked me out though?” asked Cliffjumper to himself. He couldn’t quite remember.

The red mini-bot then tried to contact some Autobots to see who was on the ship. Finally, he got ahold of Hot Spot.

>>"Erm, is anyone there? Hot Spot sir? Sorry to bother you, just trying to figure out where everyone is. I just woke up and have no idea what the layout of this ship is.”<<

Cliffjumper was hopeful that Hot Spot or someone could help him find where the armory was especially. He needed to restock his ammo after that intense fight.

Medical Bay

“Excellent,” Prowl responded to Grapple in an even tone without a hint of emotion. The black and white was not one to partake in idle small talk with other mechs and especially when it involved subordinates. There were far more important things that warranted his attention. In this case, there was a job to do down on the surface and he expected it to get done. Pointless chit chat accomplished nothing more than to delay the completion of a task. Thankfully, a ‘bot like Grapple understood that time was of the essence and quickly ended his conversation with Blurr and Side Burn in order to focus on his new orders.

As the architect left the med bay, Prowl regarded Side Burn and Blurr for a moment. “If you two need something to do I suggest you join Grapple and head down to the surface to help with the construction of Autobot City. I’m sure a fast mech like you Blurr could be extremely helpful in expediting the work that needs doing. Wouldn't you agree?” Not waiting for a response from either ‘bot, the black and white turned and headed for the exit, quickly crossing the threshold and entering the corridor beyond.

Armory

It didn’t take long for Prowl to traverse the corridors of the Guardian and reach the frigate’s armory. He was in a bit of a rush as he had spent far more time than he had anticipated down in the medical bay, primarily because of the surprising revelation that Megatron was a captive patient in the security isolation ward. The military strategist had only expected to visit Optimus Prime and not the vile slagmaker, as well. Be as it may, it was a necessary delay to ensure that all of the proper security measures were in place to protect the crew from the Decepticon leader. And while the specific details of both commanders’ disappearances were still to be ascertained, the unique opportunity now arose to interrogate Megatron, himself, on a wide variety of subjects. Of course, getting the former gladiator to talk would likely be next to impossible, but that’s what mnemosurgical techniques were ultimately for. Ultra Magnus might not like that way of procuring information, but what he didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him.

“Autobot presence detected. Subject: Prowl has entered the armory.”

The sound of the computer’s voice echoed through his audio receptors as the black and white made his way towards the back of the chamber. It was there that he found Nova Strike, Red Alert and Eject getting re-equipped for the upcoming mission. The one mech that was missing was Prowl’s second-in-command, Hot Spot. “I see that we are all here, save one. My apologies for being a tad late, myself. I was unexpectedly delayed down in the med bay. Nothing to worry about, though,” Prowl said, lying through his mouthpiece. Luckily, the strategist was so good at it that no one would suspect a thing, not even the resident paranoid security director. The presence of Megatron on board was on a need to know basis and these mechs did not need to know.

“I take it that Hot Spot has already been through here?” Prowl asked no one in particular as he approached the nearest weapons locker and entered his personal access code. Once the door slid open, the black and white retrieved numerous cartridges for his acid pellet rifle before then moving over to a set of racks that contained incendiary missiles and warheads for his shoulder-mounted launchers. “Well, knowing him he’s probably already down in the bounce chamber waiting for us. He certainly doesn’t waste time, does he?”

After Prowl had fully loaded up on rockets, he turned to address his team, picking up one of the mission data slates Magnus had said would be waiting for them. “So, has everyone read through the information regarding this region and the possible cover stories we could use to gain access to the human outpost? As a law enforcement vehicle, I can modify my alt mode’s paint scheme slightly in order to pass as a military police car and thus gain access to the base. My presence can be easily explained and Eject, given his tiny alt form, can be easily hidden within one of us. However, a fire truck, a fire chief’s car and a blue Ferrari might have a more difficult time getting onto a military base without a good reason for being there. So, we need to get our stories straight now and be prepared. These humans may not be as technologically advanced as us, but they should not be underestimated, especially those within their armed forces. I am open to hearing any and all ideas.”

Corridor

Ironhide stood by the wall, with Pipes next to him.

"So what do we do?" Pipes asked. "Do ya want to get in the bounce chamber and get outta here?"

"Shut yer trap, sawed off! I'm thinkin'!" Ironhide answered.

"About...?"

"Didn't ya hear what I said?" Ironhide said irritably. "And I'm thinkin' about the Decepticons. About how we just kinda left them without any surveillance or any kinda tabs on 'em."

"Yeah, but don't we have a truce now?"

"As far as I'm concerned, that ended with The Fallen's defeat. I'm ready to bust some Deceptichops again!"

At this point, a fembot unfamiliar to both of them came around the corner.

"Oh...hello." she said. "I don't think we've met. Ironhide...right? I'm Starfire."

"Yeah, that's me." Ironhide said, the gruffness from his voice gone. "And this is Pipes."

"Hiya!" the smaller bot said with a wave.

"Umm...can you tell me where I could find Arcee?" Starfire asked.

"Last I saw her, she was headed toward the medbay, to check on Hot Rod." Pipes answered.

"Do you know how the bounce chamber works?" Ironhide asked.

"Uhh...not exactly. Are you planning on going somewhere?"

"I'm not sure yet."

"There are other ways off this tub than the chamber." she said as she walked past, with a small smirk.

"I like her." Pipes said, looking after Starfire. "A lot."

"Could ya pick up your jaw from the floor before I trip over it?" Ironhide asked.

Medical Bay – Private Room

“…vorns ago…” Optimus muttered softly, clearly vexed.

Ratchet’s expression did not change even at hearing Orion’s slightly distressed remark instead he continued with his explanation of what had occurred during Prime and Megatron’s disappearance.

After getting Prime up to speed and asking for some answers in return Ratchet simply waited.

“Of course,” Optimus replied, “But you may not be satisfied with my answer.”

At that Ratchet began to watch Prime even more carefully.

“I remember Mount St. Helens. Megatron and I were fighting while the base began to crumble around us, and…then…I remember waking up in the medical ward on this frigate. You were treating me for my injuries. I began to plan our next move with Prowl and Ironhide…but we were suddenly attack by the Decepticons. It was a chaotic battle…I recall seeing you…”

Ratchet grew concerned with this version of Prime’s memories. None of this ever happened. The CMO leaned in a bit closer his optics narrowed as he took in Prime’s movements and mannerisms. He seemed convinced that this memory was real that it actually happened.

“Prime…Orion, that’s not possible…” Ratchet reached out and placed his hand lightly on Optimus’ shoulder.

“We lost. There…were…executions. I broke free and attempted to stop them but…” Optimus shook his head. “I was shot or…attacked from behind perhaps? I can’t…”

With that Ratchet squeezed Prime’s shoulder hoping the contact would give the Prime some relief in that whatever he’d been through wasn’t real...that he was real this, was real. But that’s when things got even stranger.

“I woke up marooned on a moon of a different world, I think? Or perhaps that was another time…” Optimus sighed and shook his head. “It was a few orns before I saw you again. Alive. Whole. Intact. You didn’t recall the attack on the Guardian at all. There were several other times later when I saw…you and many of the other Autobots dead. Others you were alive. Sometimes you remembered. Others not. The only constant is Megatron.”

Ratchet sat upright slightly, sliding his hand off of Prime’s shoulder. His optics focused solely on the Autobot leader. Nothing seemed to make sense. He had never worked on Prime on the Guardian, there was never a battle that they lost while on board this particular ship. What…who...did this to him?

Optimus gazed sadly at Ratchet. “I’ve told you all this before. On multiple occasions.”

Ratchet met Optimus’ optics, his expression just as pained as his Prime’s. “Orion…” Ratchet’s features softened as he shook his head. “You’ve never told me any of this before. We’ve never been on board the Guardianduring anybattle; neither of us and certainly not together.” He made to reach out and grab a hold of Prime’s hand but that was when Optimus suddenly jerked up his optics wide. As a reaction Ratchet pulled back while Optimus hopped off the slab and slung his arm out in front of the CMO all the while pulling his blaster.

“What the slag?” Ratchet grumbled as he was bumped hard on the chest with Prime’s outstretched arm. His optics widened as Prime took aim at the far wall with his rapidly heating weapon.
“Orion! PRIME!” He reached out, instinctively, pulling and then pushing against the protective arm in front of him. He tried shaking the appendage to get Optimus’ attention but he was already too late as Prime let loose a blast from his gun. A stream of heated plasma blasted through the wall and into the medical bay proper.

But before he could get off another shot Ratchet was able to get around Prime’s outstretched arm and shoved the gun’s muzzle up toward the ceiling.

“Look at me, Orion! Damnit LOOK At ME!” With his free hand the doctor gripped Prime’s shoulder and shook almost violently.

While he tried to get Prime’s attention he contacted Axle whom he knew was on duty in the medical bay. >>”Axle?! Is everyone okay out there?”<< He received a response quickly. Everyone was okay, with the exception of Brakeline who nearly had his head taken off by laser fire. Ratchet quickly explained what had happened but to keep it as quiet as possible. Axle’s response to the request was none too happy but the former surgeon agreed and closed the line.

“Can you hear me Orion?! Answer me!” Ratchet shook Prime’s shoulder trying once more to get his attention.

Med Bay

“WHAT THE SLAG?!” Brakeline had ducked just in time. The blast that had come from the adjoining room just barely skimmed his head finial. He rose slowly to his full height, his hand raised, fingertips just grazing the singed metal. “What the hell was that?!” He looked off in Axle’s direction who was making his way, rather quickly, to his side.

“Axle stopped beside him and took a look at the nurse’s head. “Are you alright?” Brakeline swallowed hard but let the medic have a quick look. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m okay. But what was that? Is someone shootin’ in there?”

Without missing a beat Axle finished his initial exam and offered an excuse, as per ratchet’s request. “One of the security guns malfunctioned. Ratchet’s taking care of it.” To his relief the flummoxed nurse took the response in stride and remained quiet, letting Axle finish his once over.

“It’s just a slight graze. It should heal on its own in a few.” Axle refocused his attention looking Brakeline in the optics. “You sure you’re okay?” Without a word Brakeline simply stared almost in awe and nodded. That was before he caught himself. “Umm, yeah, yeah, I’m good. No problem.” He let out an awkward chuckle as he broke off optic contact. Axle gestured towards Vee’s prone form with a slight jerk of his head. “Why don’t you head over and get those readings.”

Brakeline smiled broadly and bounded off to finish his task in the meantime Axle went to work resetting the security system that had been triggered when the laser blast came through the far wall. He’d need to set up a temporary hold on the system while he wrote a short preliminary report…no need to have any armed guards storming the place with so many patients lying around.

Medical Bay – Security Isolation Ward

After a quick stop in the medical bay’s supply locker Pharma made his way to the isolation ward where Megatron was being held. The doctor stopped just before the door, took in a deep breath and schooled his uneasy expression into something sterner and hopefully more intimidating.

Pharma entered the security code and let the door slide open before he slipped inside. Within lay Megatron, leader of all the Decepticon forces, strapped to a magnetic medical slab with a series of autoguns trained on his form.

The flier cleared his throat before he stepped in fully and made his way towards Ultra Magnus. “I’m here to satisfy Article 7 of the Autobot Code.” Pharma looked from Magnus to Megatron before he continued. “Of course he didn’t exactly surrender now did he.” It wasn’t a question but a fact that he was found.

After only a moment he moved into position beside the slab and placed his equipment down on the side table. He could end this war so easily….if need be.

Medical Bay – Secluded Area

“Sorry about that, ‘Breaker. I’m trying my best not to burn the surrounding nerve receptors, but it’s not easy. Just bare with me a little longer.”

Trailbreaker just listened while Wheeljack laid out the recent events for both Blurr and Grapple’s benefit…wait, Grapple was there? When did that happen? Maybe drinking something that can send a War World into hyper-space really wasn’t good for him. I should probably lay off the Nightmare Fuel for an hour or so, he thought.

Breaker shook his head slightly in order to clear it a bit, and to his surprise his buzz was already starting to wear off. Maybe I’ll just lay off for a half hour, came another rushing thought.

“Well, look who it is! Side Burn! I didn’t think you were stationed on Earth. What happened to your leg?”

Breaker’s attention was quickly shuffled toward the latest arrival. A broad smile formed on the larger mech’s faceplate. “Well now! We’ve got new faces coming out of the woodwork, don’t’ we?!” He looked down at Side Burn’s leg and winced slightly.

“Hey! Stick around long enough and you may get a doc to look at that leg. Just maybe not Ratchet, yeah? Heh.” Breaker flashed the blue mech a wide knowing grin.

“There, all done. You’re force field emitter is as good as new, Trailbreaker. Try not to overload it next time. Ok?”

Breaker slowly drew his hand in and began to flex the digits which had stiffened up only slightly. He ran his thumb lightly over the emitter feeling the sensation rush over the nerve circuits. It felt good. Hopefully the damned thing wouldn’t blow up. “Feels good as new. Thanks, Jack.”

“I’ll check on her. Thanks, ‘Breaker.”

Trailbreaker’s smile faded as he looked over at the mechanical engineer stop beside tracer’s bedside and lean down slightly. “Yeah. What happened? I don’t’ remember seeing her in the battle. She get hurt or something? There anything I can do to help?”
____

“Tracer,”

She could hear her name, it was as clear as day and it was coming from Wheeljack.

“Can you hear me? I need you to wake up. Come on, now, snap out of it. I need you to tell me what’s wrong. Please, Tracer.”

Yes, I can hear you, Wheeljack. But her answer was all in her head. She could hear, see and feel but she was still paralyzed and couldn’t move or communicate verbally. But she could think about her responses. I can hear you, Wheeljack. Is Smokescreen okay? I can’t see him. Where is he?

When she didn’t get a response she sighed internally. Another tear fell from the corner of her optic.

From beneath her slab Razr crept out and slowly made his way into Tracer’s view. His optics met hers and he leapt nimbly onto the slab beside her and lay down. Carefully he shifted closer to her face and licked it lightly.

Tracer let out a heavy sigh and offlined her optics. Slowly she moved her jaw and onlined her optics. “I…I…” Razr snuggled a bit closer and licked her face once more.

Tracer cleared her throat and looked up at Wheeljack concern plastered on her faceplate. “Wh…where is he? Is...is Smokescreen alright?” She whispered to the mechanical engineer.

Medical Bay – Private Room

One of the Decepticons had gotten behind him somehow. It clung to his arm and jerked it, so that his second shot ended up in the ceiling of the private room. Ratchet! Where was he?! Optimus wrestled his arm away from the Decepticon, whirling on it and pressing his blaster to its chest. His finger lingered on the trigger, but something…something gave him pause. A lingering sense of doubt.

His optics quickly flicked around, searching for his old friend. Where…where…Was he gone? Optimus focused back in on the Decepticon. Something about…about his frame was…

“Ratchet!”

Optimus’s optics widened in horror as he stepped back, jerking his blaster away from Ratchet’s chest. He turned away, covering his faceplate with a hand as his blaster dangled at his side. His grip tightened on the blaster. “I…” Optimus shook his head. “I apologize.” He glanced over to the wall that he had thought Decepticons had stormed in through. It was intact except for a hole with a familiar shape.

Panicked, the Prime looked back at Ratchet urgently. “Is anyone…?!” Optimus looked down and away, regaining his composure a bit. “Did I hurt anyone?” Even if he hadn’t…He couldn’t trust his own senses. Yet he also couldn’t disregard threats as they came. He needed to treat each one as real. Because they could be potentially. Prime shook his head again. But at the same time, he couldn’t…risk harming any of his friends or comrades. When it came down to it, Prime knew which mattered more in the end.

“Restrain me, old friend. Please.”

Medical Bay – Secluded Area

As Wheeljack continued to closely monitor Tracer’s vitals to make sure she didn’t take a sudden turn for the worse, Trailbreaker inquired about what had happened to her and if there was anything he could do to help. Unfortunately, there was nothing the defensive strategist could do. Even ‘Jack could only wait for the drug-addled scout to finally wake up on her own. And on top of that, the inventor now found himself in yet another uncomfortable position as he once again had to lie in order to protect Tracer’s secret addiction as well as Smokescreen’s involvement in all this. Of course, Axle and Wheeljack were also both involved in the deception and thus keeping the secret from getting out was of paramount concern for multiple mechs.

“I’m afraid there’s nothing you can do, Trailbreaker,” Wheeljack said as his processor raced to find a suitable reason for Tracer’s current condition. “She....she wasn’t down in the battle, itself. But...” And then it came to him. “...Tracer did ingest some bad low-grade energon and she is apparently having some kind of allergic reaction to it. She’ll be fine, however, so no worries. I’ve got everything under control here. Thanks anyway, ‘Breaker.”

Wheeljack cast the defensive strategist a warm smile and a thumb’s up before taking a seat on a stool next to Tracer’s medical slab. The white mech’s focus returned to the troubled femme as he continued to scan her vitals. All was still normal. She just needed to wake up now. ‘Jack wouldn’t completely relax until that happened.

A few astroseconds later, Tracer’s pet, Razr, came out from hiding and leaped up onto the med berth beside the paralyzed femme. The little turbofox quickly laid down and began licking her faceplate. Wheeljack watched this cute display of affection as he noticed another tear streaming down her cheek. Suddenly, both of her optics off-lined as she let out a deep, heavy sigh. Her jaw then moved and her optics on-lined again. The mechanical engineer leaned forward, placing both hands eagerly onto the edge of the slab. Tracer tried to speak, but had a bit of trouble at first. Clearing her throat, she looked up at ‘Jack and managed to whisper to him. The look of concern on the troubled femme’s visage made it obvious that she was going to ask about Smokescreen, and ask about him she did.

“Smokescreen’s fine, Tracer,” Wheeljack replied with a reassuring smile, reaching out to place a firm, comforting hand on her shoulder plate. But it wasn’t just for comfort alone. No, it was also to make sure the femme didn’t try to get up too soon. She was no where near 100% yet and trying to do too much too quickly could only make matters worse for her. “I finished his new arm and placed him in that CR chamber over there,” the inventor continued as he pointed to the unit in question. “His cycle’s about half way done so it won’t be that much longer until you two are reunited. In the meantime, Trace, you need to remain still and relax. You’ve been through a lot.”

Wheeljack then switched over to a secured, private comm line between himself and Tracer:

>>”I told Trailbreaker behind me that you ingested some bad low-grade energon and that you had a severe allergic reaction to it, which is why you’re in my care. That’s our cover story as there are too many other ‘Bots nearby right now to risk discussing what really happened out loud. Okay, Trace?”<<

Outer Hull

As it turned out, the next nearest ship in vicinity was actually docked to the Trion. Sky Lynx had actually flown out a fair distance before realizing that. Fortunately, no one had been aboard to notice his little blunder. It went without saying that the misadventures of Sky Lynx were not often told. Who wanted their hero to look the fool, after all?

Sky Lynx settled upon the hull of the Guardian, sighing softly to himself. He could not let it bother him. He had to report Grimlock’s utter regard for any semblance of…of…something. To be honest, the lieutenant commander was still a bit perturbed. Grimlock had been quite rude. Opening up a comm link to the bridge, Sky Lynx lowered his long neck to peer into the bridge through the view ports.

>>”Hello? This is Sky Lynx. I have a matter of utmost importance to discuss with the Supreme Commander. Please, someone get me Optimus Prime.”<<