The Energon Pub

Wheeljack’s Lab

Wheeljack nodded as Tracer took hold of Smokescreen’s spark and held the container it was in close to her chest. “Excellent. Now, I’ve got two more organs that I need to salvage if this rebuild is going to go smoothly.” The mad scientist moved back to the worktable where Smokey’s ruined body lay dormant. “The spark is only one third of what’s called Rossum’s Trinity. I need to remove both his brain module as well as his transformation cog. According to my previous scans, both are intact. Although, the T-cog did suffer some slight damage from the acid, but it doesn’t appear to be anything that can’t be repaired.”

Rummaging through his toolkit, Wheeljack finally found and pulled out a small blow torch that he would use to gain access to both organs. The mechanical engineer opted to begin with extracting the brain module and approached the head of the worktable. As he peered down into Smokescreen’s dead optics, he heard Tracer suggest calling in a medic in order to assist with the reconstruction. ‘Jack scoffed at the notion that he needed help and simply waved his free hand at the troubled femme. “That won’t be necessary, Tracer. I may not be a medic, but I think I can remove a couple of organs. I’ll be fine. Don’t worry yourself over it.”

Wheeljack then ignited the blow torch and bent down over top of the rallybot’s cranial unit. He brought the intense flame into contact with Smokey’s forehead and carefully moved the hot instrument around the upper portion of his friend’s head until he had completely encircled it, returning the torch to the point of origin. Once that was done, ‘Jack easily pulled off the top of the diversion expert’s cranium and discarded the bowl-like piece of metal into a pile of nearby junk.

The mad scientist then squatted down to get a better look at the now exposed brain unit. The module appeared much more complex than ‘Jack had initially anticipated. There were numerous wires and cerebral circuitry that interconnected with one another, forming a maze-like assembly. It all culminated at the base of the cranium interior which was not presently visible to the naked optic. This certainly wouldn’t be as easy as just pulling out the brain like the spark had been extracted.

“Mmmmm,” Wheeljack let escape from his vocalizer as he rubbed his chin guard with his one hand. He dove into his toolkit again, looking for something he could use to safely latch on to the top of the brain module so he could pull it out at least part way and therefore gain access to the primary connections underneath. However, the only thing he could find was a standard metal clamp which would do him little good. No, he would have to get his own hands dirty on this one.

Remaining in a squatted position at the head of the worktable, Wheeljack reached both hands forward and carefully worked his actuators into the small area between the brain module and the interior walls of the cranial unit. Once he had a decent grip, ‘Jack slowly pulled out Smokey’s processor until the multitude of wires at the base became taunt. The mechanical engineer then laid the brain down, half of which onto the table while the rest remained within the now hollow cranium.

“Well, that wasn’t so bad now was it?” Wheeljack asked rhetorically as he glanced up at Tracer, who looked more than a bit concerned. He then stood all the way up and stretched his legs. “Now, I just have to disconnect all that stuff.” The scientist leaned forward once more to get a closer look at the various connections that would have to be severed in order to free the brain unit successfully. He could just use wire cutters, but being that this was an actual biological organ and not just a technological device, it would be unwise to simply cut the cerebral couplings. No, as much as ‘Jack hated to admit it, Tracer was right. A real medic was needed here as the engineer was clearly out of his league.

Straightening his posture back up, Wheeljack looked over at Tracer again. “All right, so maybe I’ll need some help with this after all. If you know a medic on board the Guardian that you feel we can trust then call him in. Meanwhile, I’ll hook up an energon line to Smokey’s body in order to keep the brain unit and T-cog functioning.” With that said, ‘Jack got down to business and hooked up not just one but two energon lines to the rallybot’s wrecked and melted form. Considering the T-cog was located in the lower torso region, there would be no way for one line to reach both that and the cranium, as well. There was simply too much acidic damage and obstruction between the two organs. Fortunately, the pair of tubes did the trick just fine and would keep the vital components operational until Tracer’s medic arrived.

Mess Hall

Everything had gone downhill so quickly that Bluestreak had a tough time understanding what the slag was going on. The only thing he understood was that Red Alert’s paranoia was in full swing and nothing was going to abate him from discovering some kind of conspiracy within the Autobot ranks, whether it was real or imaginary. Everything that the anxiety-riddled mech was saying or eluded to sounded crazy, but Red clearly didn’t want to hear that. He just wanted confirmation that something bad was going on and he wanted to be the one to discover and stop it.

The security director asked again about Wheeljack and some damaged shuttle. Blue was about to reiterate his prior answer but was cut off when Red Alert received a transmission back from the engineer regarding a cyber-rat trap. The suspicious ‘Bot then went on a verbal tirade to himself about how the scientist wasn’t even trying to fix anything and that he was just attempting to keep Red away from the truth about what was really going on. The mention of Prowl caused the gunner’s optics to widen in surprise, but not as much as the threat of being locked up if he got in the security chief’s way.

Bluestreak was actually speechless as Red Alert left the mess hall in a huff, having had not even one drop of energon the entire time down there. The whole situation seemed surreal to the black and silver mech as he had never seen Red’s paranoia reach this insane level before. If Prowl was somehow involved in something secret, then Red would be best to stay out of it as the military strategist was not one to take prying into his affairs lightly. I’d better go after him before he gets himself into trouble.

Corridor outside Mess Hall

Hurrying after Red Alert, Bluestreak entered the corridor and walked alongside his clearly agitated friend. “Look, Red, I’m not going to try and stop you. You are clearly determined to find out what’s going on here. But, as your friend, I have to tell you that routing around in something that may involve Prowl is not a good idea. He has his secrets, you know. He’s Prowl, after all. He’s always doing something behind the scenes that no one else is aware of. That’s just what he does. Not only that but he’s also the highest ranking officer in this sector. Even if you find something bad regarding him, who would you take it to? He’s technically your boss!”

Bluestreak paused briefly as he tried to keep in step with the anxious mech beside him. “As for Wheeljack, if he’s also involved in something secret then he’s probably just following Prowl’s orders. You know, in war time it’s very common for there to be covert missions that nobody is privy to except for the higher ups. It’s all top secret stuff and the like. It’s really par for the course. If you go searching for answers, you could be in violation of certain protocols. Prowl could very well end up throwing you into the brig for sticking that nose of yours in his affairs. I just don’t want to see you get in trouble over what is likely just some kind of clandestine operation against the ‘Cons. Believe me, I’m no fan of the resident prick-bot, but he is the interim leader and I’m sure whatever he’s doing is in the best interests of all Autobots. I admit that his methods may often be questionable, but he's never done anything in the past to hurt our cause, right?”

The Autobot gunner let out a sigh, hoping that at least some of his words were getting through Red Alert’s thick cranium. “You know, Red, you’re spending so much time looking for internal threats that you may miss signs of external ones. I mean, the Decepticons are planning something out there right now. I can feel it in my servos. They’re not going to just sit on their actuators all cycle and hope that we give up. Shouldn’t we be more concerned with what they’re doing and less about Prowl and his silly little secrets?”

Wheeljack’s Lab

Tracer became nervous as the mechanical engineer hadn’t answered her question about possibly calling a medic but instead moved back to Smokescreen’s inert form and began to explain the science behind Rossum’s Trinity. The femme had heard of it but never really knew the facts surrounding it. Upon hearing Wheeljack’s explanation of its concept, Tracer’s optics widened in fear. He can't possibly do that! He’s not a medic!

Tracer clutched the receptacle closer to her chest while she observed Jack go through the various tools in his toolkit that sat close by. Tracer shook her head in disbelief when she saw the blow torch pulled from the kit. Oh Primus! He’s not going to…Agh, he is!

It was only when he moved to the head of the table that the engineer responded to her question concerning calling in a medic. She looked from the body’s cranium and over to the white mech. His answer caused Tracer’s back to go rigid. There was no telling what kind of damage this mech could do. She may never see Smokescreen again.

She was ready to object to his assurance that he could perform the operation when he ignited the blow torch and went right to work at opening Smokescreen’s cranium. Had she proceeded she might have caused Wheeljack to jerk and possibly destroy the brain module. No, she’d have to keep her distance.

He had gotten halfway around when she just couldn’t stand to look anymore. Tracer averted her optics so she was staring at the floor in front of her, but that still was not enough. From that position she turned completely around and took in a few intakes of cool air. There was no need for it, but the anxiety was building...she needed a way to relieve it.

She relaxed, but only slightly, when she heard the torch extinguish, however she nearly jumped out of her armor when she heard a crash come from behind her. She took a quick peek over her shoulder to make sure the scientist hadn’t done anything damaging.

“Oh Primus!”

The sight of Wheeljack squatting down with his hands inside Smokescreen’s cranium was more than she could take. She quickly turned back around and doubled over. There was a slight urge to purge but she was able to hold back. She just had to remember to keep her optics off the gory scene going on behind her.

It took a few moments but finally she straightened back up and lifted her head up...eyes focused on the ceiling. Tracer shook her head when she heard him ask his ridiculous rhetorical question. Not so bad? You really are a nutcase. She shut off her optics as he began giving the play by play…not exactly what she wanted or needed to hear.

“Wheeljack, please. He means everything to me; I really don’t need to hear exactly how you’re dismantling him.”

It grew quiet, Tracer began to worry. Okay I said I didn’t want him to tell me everything he was doing, but not saying anything at all…that’s just cruel. She onlined her optics in surprised when he finally admitted he needed the assistance of a medic. Oh thank Primus.

The scout turned back around only to be greeted by the sight of Smokescreen’s brain module half resting on the table, the other half, mostly the wire harnesses, remained within the cranium. Tracer’s optics widened before she lowered her gaze to the floor.

“I don’t know any…um…personally, but once we arrived I added all of the Ark - 19s crew members' personnel files to the Guardian’s manifest.”

She took a quick look around and spotted a computer terminal situation on the back bench. Tracer quickly made her way to it and patched in to the Guardian’s computer. She was sure to redirect the data to keep the information from being tracked directly to Wheeljack’s lab, and more importantly to the Ark – 22.

Tracer scanned through the information and came across only one medic that fit the criteria that was required…familiar with transplants and insubordinate enough to keep his mouth shut. She wasted no time in contacting the mech.

>>”Axle. This is Tracer. I’m with Wheeljack in his lab on board the 22. Uh…we’re…um…going to need a hand with something. Could you get over here, like now?”<<

She picked up the canister holding Smokescreen’s spark off the bench and turned around to face Wheeljack.

“I’m sure he’ll be here soon.”

>>”Tracer, this is Axle I’m on my way.”<<

Tracer nearly jumped when her comm line lit up. Has to be him. She looked to Wheeljack with a slight smile on her face.

“He’s on his way.”

Outside Wheeljack’s Lab

Since leaving the medical bay on the Guardian, Axle had spent his time wandering its corridors. He was already a few corridors away and one deck bellow when he arrived at the air lock. He crossed the threshold and finally into the Ark. He knew the layout of the vessel as it was quite similar to the Ark – 19 that was docked on the opposite side of the Guardian.

“Okay, the lab is…this way.”

He took off at a sprint until he found the door he’d been looking for. He came to an abrupt stop and tried to enter the lab. He let out a sigh when he tried again and got no response from the door. Axle then tried entering the standard code, but that too had no effect. Finally the medic decided to resort to gaining access the old fashioned way. He raised his fist and knocked on the door.

“Wheeljack! Open the door!”

He gave a lighthearted chuckle before he knocked again.

“Don’t tell me you blew off both your arms and can’t access the keypad!”

Wheeljack’s Lab

“Axle, huh?” Wheeljack responded to Tracer with an approving nod. “Good choice. He’s no Ratchet, mind you, but at least he knows how to keep a secret, which is exactly what we’re going to need. Although, I’ve got to tell you I had a hell of a time trying to get Red Alert off your scent. And I mean that literally! He actually smelled something with that nose of his which lead him right to the hangar bay.”

The scientist then glanced down at Razr who was sitting a short distance away before returning his gaze to the troubled femme. “I’m going to go out on a limb here and assume that it was your little pet turbofox there that Red’s olfactory sensors picked up. Slag! That means as soon as Mr. Paranoid wanders anywhere near the bounce chamber, he’ll pick up the scent again and it’ll lead him directly here! Tracer, you need to get your pet out of my lab ASAP! Send him somewhere, anywhere! At the very least it’ll draw Red away from here so Axle and I can work on Smokescreen uninterrupted.”

Wheeljack didn’t wait for Tracer to act on his suggestion and instead moved over to the same terminal the femme had just used. With the diversion expert hooked up to the proper life lines, the mechanical engineer could do little more with his ruined body until Axle arrived on scene. In the meantime, ‘Jack accessed the Guardian’s central database, utilizing the same misdirection protocols that Tracer used in order to cover his tracks. There he found the latest design and schematics for Smokescreen’s body, taken directly from the last time the rallybot had used a CR chamber for repairs. Once the plans were downloaded to his terminal, ‘Jack cut the secured connection and took a closer look at them.

“Doesn’t look like his design’s changed all that much since he first arrived here on Sol-3,” Wheeljack commented aloud to himself. “Although, he could use an updated alt mode. He’s had the same one for several solar years now. Let’s see here...” The engineer scanned through the Ark-22’s own database of Earth alt modes, quickly finding a Nissan 370Z, which was the newest model of Smokey’s current form. “There we go, that should be....oh wait.” Looking closely at the logs he noticed that the 370Z was recently acquired by Bluestreak, who shared a similar body chassis to Smokescreen. “Yeah, this isn’t going to work. Smokey would kill me if he looked exactly like ol’ motormouth. I need to find something else.”

It took several more astroseconds for Wheeljack to scan through the database, but finally he settled on a Subaru BRZ, an alt mode that would suit the rallybot perfectly. “That’s it! That’s the one! Similar enough to fit his framework, but also different enough to maintain a distinct identity. Now, to apply the vehicle’s design to Smokey’s schematics.” With a push of a button, the diversion expert’s CG body model was updated to incorporate the BRZ. It wasn’t a drastic change in his overall design, but it would still be a nice upgrade that hopefully Smokescreen would be pleased with once he was finally whole again.

As Wheeljack finished updating his friend’s schematics for the eventually rebuild, a loud bang came on the main door to the lab. That was immediately followed by the sound of Axle’s vocal processor demanding to be let in. Of course, the field medic had to add in a joke about ‘Jack possibly blowing off both his arms, but that was something the mechanical engineer had gotten used to long ago. And considering how many failed experiments of his had really blown up in his faceplate, ‘Jack could understand the ribbing he got on a regular basis.

“I’m coming!” Wheeljack shouted back as he hurried to the door. Typing in the security codes, the scientist waited a moment for the door to slide open before greeting Axle with a wave. “Sorry about that. My arms are both fine. See? I just didn’t want anyone having access to my lab, especially not right now. Come in! There's a lot to do.” Once the medic was inside, ‘Jack closed and locked the door again before guiding Axle to the worktable where the diversion expert’s melted body was strewn out on with his brain module hanging half out of his cranium.

“Now, before you say anything, Axle, I DID NOT DO THIS! Smokey and Tracer here had gone down to the planet without authorization. I’ll let her fill you in on the reasons why. Long story short, they encountered Oil Slick who doused Smokescreen with a good amount of an acidic compound. Tracer then contacted me and I bounced them on board. I can’t fix the damage as it’s too severe so I’m forced to rebuild Smokey’s body from scratch. I was able to successfully extract his spark, which is in the container that Tracer is holding. Unfortunately, I’m having a difficult time removing his brain module, not to mention his T-cog, which I haven't even gotten to yet.”

Wheeljack paused a moment and retrieved the scanner he had used on the diversion expert earlier. “Here’s the scans I performed, showing the extent of the damage. His brain and T-cog are both intact, but there is some minor damage to the latter organ. I’m no medic, so I thought it was best to call in someone with expertise in the biological side of things.” The engineer then cast a concerned glance over at Tracer before returning his attention to the field medic. “Axle, I need your help here, but this must be kept a secret as no one knows that these two ever went down to the surface. I know it’s asking a lot, but we could all get into a slagload of trouble if Prowl or even Red Alert were to find out.”

Wheeljack’s Lab

A quick nod in Wheeljack’s direction indicated that Tracer was also satisfied with her choice of medic. According to Axle’s file he had been a doctor stationed on Babu Yar just after the skirmish with the Decepticons. He tried, as with the rest of his team, to help the Autobots who had been caught under the shower of Gideon’s Glue. As much as he wanted to remain behind the powers that be sent orders to evacuate the location.

Axle had refused to leave citing that as Autobot medics and doctors they had a duty to save as many mechs as possible. That act of insubordination, even if Axle had been right, gave reason to demote the doctor to the lower rank of field medic. His superiors stated, ‘If you’re so hell bent on saving the dead and dying, then perhaps the field is where you belong.’

There was no retaliation, instead Axle moved on quietly. The background information was interesting, especially for any medic.

Tracer was pulled out of her reverie as Wheeljack mentioned Red Alert and the Security Chief’s fine-tuned olfactory sensors. The scout gave the engineer a quizzical look not understanding what he meant about Red on some kind of scent. What is he talking about? She followed his optics as he looked over to Razr who was still sitting quietly in a corner. Tracer furrowed her brow as she looked back to Wheeljack who finally figured out what must have happened when she, Smokescreen and Razr moved through the Ark – 22. The femme quickly looked back down at her faithful turbofox and let out a low gasp.

Tracer had already moved to Razr’s side and knelt down, her hand petting his head gently. She’d have to let him go, but she had faith that he’d follow her directions implicitly.

“Razr, time to run interference. When the door opens head to the Guardian, but don’t go home. Run Red Alert around in circles. Don’t get caught.”

She gave him one last pat and a quick scratch behind his ear before standing up and heading over to Wheeljack. Satisfied that the Security Chief would be busy for the foreseeable future, Tracer waited for Axle to arrive. He’s taking his time. The femme paid little attention to the scientist’s inane banter to himself; instead she just stared at the lab’s door.

His unexpected outburst concerning Smokescreen’s newly chosen alt mode almost sent Tracer to the floor in surprise. She let out a low groan as she turned around to face him.

“Really, Wheeljack?! You cou…”

She was suddenly cut off by loud banging on the lab’s door. Again the femme nearly jumped out of her armor. Please, let this go as quickly as possible. I’m not sure how much more I can take. Tracer let out a heavy sigh when she heard the voice coming from the other side of the door. Finally. She moved closer to the lab’s exit and waited as Wheeljack opened the door letting Razr slip through between the scientist’s legs and then through Axle’s.

The field medic lifted one of his legs when he felt something brush past it. The small creature was too fast to actually see clearly, exactly what he was told to do. From the strange feeling Axle turned his attention back up to the engineer who waved and flashed his still attached arms. Axle flashed him a smile and moved into the lab. He couldn’t see anything other than the white mech poised in front of him. That is until Jack guided him to the work table where Smokescreen’s partially melted body lie.

The scene looked like something out of a human horror flick, only this one starred a Cybertronian. Axle tried to shake the shocked look off his face but it was almost impossible. He had seen disturbing wounds, even witnessed more than his fair share of killings, but this was…

Axle broke off his optics from the laid out mech and refocused on Wheeljack. The field medic had just opened his mouth to question the scientist on what he had done, but he was cut off with a declaration that he had nothing to do with Smokescreen’s current condition. The rest of the explanation, however, seemed too far-fetched, but he’d have to verify it after he finished his work.

He leaned to the side in order to see past Jack. He spotted the femme who had contacted him and who was the second accomplice in this tragic tale. Tracer met Axle’s optics but quickly averted her gaze to the bench the rallybot was laid out on. The medic brought his attention back to Wheeljack who was at that point explaining what he attempted to do. Axle nodded in understanding as he walked past the mechanical engineer and stopped at the head of the table where the brain module was hanging out of the cranium.

He squatted down and got in as close as he could nearly sticking his nose into the cavity. His eyes were focused on the brain and its inter-connecting wires along with the main line and its harness. He let out a contemplative sigh as he stuck his hand into the nearly void chamber and began rooting around. He was unable to see into the area due to the still connected brain along with his hand so he turned his head up and kept his optics locked on the ceiling.

“Tell me you weren’t going to sever these connections. Because had you, no matter how hard you tried, you would have killed him.”

There was a series of clicks as a small smirk formed on the field medic’s face.

“See, these lines encircling the cranium; they’re all vital connections that need to be released in order. Do it wrong…anyway, I just got the last one sooo…”

Carefully Axle removed his hand and gently took hold of the brain module and slowly began to pull. The organ slid out easily, all of its lines intact. Once it was clear of the cranium Axle cradled it in his left hand while he slipped his right hand back into the chamber. Gritting his teeth he grabbed hold of the main line and guided it out the rest of the way. He looked over to Tracer who had moved to the workbench.

“It’s Tracer, right? Listen Tracer I need one of those storage canisters on the bench next to you.”

The femme placed the canister holding Smokescreen’s spark down, grabbed one of the requested storage devices and quickly stepped to Axle’s side. The field medic carefully placed the brain within along with the slick energon soaked main line. Satisfied that the organ was now safe, Axle stood up and made his way around the table to Smokescreen’s right side. He leaned down and took a close look at the body.

“Yeah, I thought so. This frame design…the T-Cog is actually located in the back. Similar to one of the organs the humans refer to as a kidney. The two main lines, the one from the brain module and the one from the T-Cog run down the back just in front of the spinal column and connect to the spark chamber. It’s the same with Prowl and Bluestreak.”

After smoothing his hand down the side of the body Axle looked back up and cast his gaze over to Tracer.

“The same goes with you. Wheeljack, give me a hand turning the body.”

Wheeljack’s Lab

Wheeljack took a step back, allowing Axle to move past him and approach the head of the worktable. The field medic then squatted down to get a better look inside Smokescreen’s half-empty cranial unit, practically sticking his own head into the hollow cavity for a clear view. After a brief sigh, Axle reached his hand inside and began feeling around. The scientist could only surmise that his comrade was searching for the right connections to unhook, and he was right. However, it was what the medic said to him regarding disconnecting the wires out of order that produced a noticeable gasp from the mechanical engineer. Had ‘Jack gone ahead and severed those connections, Smokescreen would be dead right now.

“Ahhh....no....I wasn’t going to just cut them. I considered my options first and once I saw how complex it was in there I figured it would be better not to do anything and just call in a real expert on biology,” Wheeljack admitted as he then watched Axle remove the brain unit successfully and place it into a container that Tracer had retrieved for him. Once that was completed, the field medic walked around the worktable to Smokescreen’s right side where he examined the ruined body more closely. After commenting on the location of the diversion expert’s T-cog and the similar chassis design to both Bluestreak and Prowl, not to mention Tracer, herself, Axle moved his hand along the rallybot’s side and asked ‘Jack for help in turning the body over.

“Yeah, sure thing! No problem!” Wheeljack replied as his quickly moved around the table and stood beside the field medic. Placing both hands underneath the lower portion of Smokescreen’s battered form, the scientist had no problem lifting up the metal carcass and slowly turning it over. “You know, I'm really grateful for your assistance. I probably would've killed my friend if I had tried all this alone. Thank you, Axle."

Corridor

Red Alert stared at the Autobot gunner as he was told many reasons to stop what he was doing. For the past breem the security director had been trying to determine whether Bluestreak was a threat, a conspirator working along with Prowl's nefarious plot. It seemed that everytime Bluestreak did something to gain his trust, he would do or say something to potentially hinder Red Alert's progress in finding out the truth of the matter. All the while Red Alert contemplated getting the gunner out of the way- putting him in a holding cell like he had already threatened, or disabling him somehow. But Red Alert couldn't afford to, he may have already raised too much suspicion as it was when he stopped acting casual and returned to his normal, unhinged self.

"You think I don't know that there's a Decepticon threat out there?", Red Alert shouted incredulously, "Believe me, I am very aware of how dangerously close we are. And that's why I need to stop this conspiracy as soon as I can, so the Decepticons can't take advantage!"

In frustration Red Alert got up close to Bluestreak, much closer than would be comfortable for any mech.

"And understand this;", Red Alert said seriously, pointing his finger into Bluestreak's faceplate, "I am not some sulking mini-bot whose feelings were hurt because our acting commander wouldn't let me help; I am the Director of Security! It is my job to know everything that's happening! I've already worked with Prowl numerous times in Autobot Command on matters that even Grimlock and Kup don't have clearance to access!"

When Red Alert felt his point was made he lowered his finger and gave Bluestreak back some space. He then continued.

"And I don't care what their rank is! If I suspect any Autobot is lying to me, especially when our security and safety may be compromised, then I'm going to do everything in my power to find out what they've done! Ships don't launch escape pods before leaving on official orders! And I won't believe that a shuttle was left on Cybertron when I find sensors have been tampered to look away from the shuttle bay! Maybe if you stopped talking for once you would actually notice these details!!!!"

Red Alert was fuming. He had been delayed far too long already. Without saying a word he turned around ran away from Bluestreak.

Bounce Chamber

Red Alert ran straight to the Bounce Chamber without slowing down, determined to investigate Wheeljack's supposed "unintentional" bounce. He didn't doubt that Wheeljack would have easily altered or deleted the chamber logs and sensors to make it appear just as the engineer said. Physical evidence, on the other hand, Red Alert was confident that even a genius of Wheeljack's calibur couldn't hide everything from the security director's superior sensors.

The door to the bounce chamber slid open and Red Alert walked in, and the very first thing he noticed was the smell, one that he recognized from earlier. From what his olfactory sensors picked up it was Cybertronian in origin, but not an Autobot or Decepticon. It was more like a Cybertronian animal, like a cyber-rat or a mecha-mole. Red Alert still couldn't quite determine the exact species, but there was one thing he could say.

"I knew it! Wheeljack's whole story was a lie!", Red Alert announced, "This is the exact same scent from the corridor leading to the shuttle bay! He never activated that cyber-rat trap, something else was there! I knew it!"

Wheeljack’s Lab

Axle caught the mechanical engineer’s hesitation when he was asked about whether or not he was going to sever the connections in the cranial cavity. Instead of dwelling on the subject matter Axle simply pushed on. The examination of the body and the relative location of the T-Cog made it necessary to turn the body over and when asked Wheeljack responded quickly.

With both mechs standing on one side of the table they carefully flipped the battered and lifeless frame onto its front leaving the back exposed to be worked on. Now that he had the carcass in the proper position, Axle ran his hand along the right side of the back where the torso meets the hip. With the proper location mapped out Axle activated his laser scalpel which was located in a wrist junction.

The field medic leaned down close and ran the tool along the area slicing a smooth straight incision into the body. As soon as the opening was large enough, Axle retracted the medical device and reached in. With its size a T-Cog is simple enough to find, but difficult to remove. Having performed the same procedure, that is total transplantation, at least three times before, Axle was confident he could remove the organ without any complications.

A broad smile gave away the success of the endeavor and slowly the field medic raised the piece of biotech to take a scrutinizing look at its entire exterior. There was no damage to its casing which meant he’d have to scan the internals.

“Yeah. There’s some minor damage in the interior structure, but it’s nothing I can’t repair.”

Axle lowered the cog and motioned to Tracer that another canister was required. The femme quickly complied and rushed the storage device to the medical officer. When the cog was secure Tracer returned to the stool in front of the work bench. From the counter she gently took possession of the containment unit that held Smokescreen’s pulsating spark.

Satisfied that the work on the useless husk was complete, Axle made the short trip to the work bench and took a hold of the container holding the brain module. With both secured organs in his hands Axle walked over to Wheeljack. He took a quick look over his shoulder at the femme embracing the spark’s containment unit; she remained completely focused on the bright blue orb that levitated within.

“Wheeljack…”

The field medic carefully handed both organs to the engineer and turned back toward the distraught scout.

“…give me a minute.”

Axle slowly walked back to the work bench and stopped in front of Tracer. The blue and white femme stared up at him until he squatted down in front of her.

“You know, someone told me a long time ago that even though they don’t have bodies…”

With his right index finger he gently tapped the glass on the spark canister before looking back up to her.

“…they can still hear you.”

Tracer studied his features before giving him a small smile. Axle rose back up to his full height and without another word, expression or gesture walked back to Wheeljack and took possession of the two containers.

“We need to get to work. You start on the frame and I’ll get those repairs done on the T-Cog. I’d like to get this work completed as soon as possible. Keeping everything apart is never a good thing…not in any situation.”

Corridors

Razr had darted off in the direction of the Guardian as soon as the door to Wheeljack’s lab opened up. In fact he had nearly knocked over the tall mech sporting the black and bright green paint job that had been standing outside.

The small turbofox had covered several corridors in only a matter of moments on his search for the paranoid security chief. He slowed down when he caught the scent of Red Alert near one of the rooms that smelled of energon. Razr quickly darted around avoiding Bluestreakin order to keep on the white and red mech's scent. He did make a note that he’d have to come back to the room in order to check it out.

Not seeing his intended target Razr moved on, this time he moved at a slower pace, which was still quite fast for a turbofox. Finally picking up the strong scent of Red Alert again, Razr stopped in front of the Bounce Chamber. The door hissed open allowing a yellow blur to slip inside where he took up a position in an obscure location.

With Red Alert’s acute sense of smell, sight and hearing, Razr remained still and silent. He only needed the mech to smell him and once he caught that he could lure the security chief around the entire ship buying Wheeljack and Axle all the time they needed to get Smokescreen back up and running.

Corridor

It was very apparent to Bluestreak now that nothing he said or did would convince Red Alert to give up on his wild paranoid theories. The security chief simply got into his faceplate and shouted back at him in a long tirade that rivaled many of the gunner’s own neverending rambles. In a way, Blue had now gotten a taste of his own medicine and he didn’t like it one bit. Still, the black and silver mech felt sorry for Red as his paranoia had clearly taken control of his senses.

Before Bluestreak could reply any further, Red Alert had taken off down the corridor, running away from him and quickly disappearing from sight. “Red, wait!” The Autobot gunner shouted after him before letting out a defeated sigh. It was no use. He could not help his friend any more than he could stop talking once he got started, at least not without someone telling him to shut the frag up.

Instead, Bluestreak decided to turn around and head back towards the mess hall. I guess there's no sense in letting all that synthesized energon go to waste, he thought, hoping in the back of his processor that Red Alert wouldn’t get himself into any real trouble during his ridiculous investigation or find a way to pull even more high ranking officials into his delusional fantasies. His loss. I just wish I had someone else to talk to. I can only take the quiet for so long before it starts eating away at my circuits.

Wheeljack’s Lab

Once Smokescreen’s body had been completely turned over, Wheeljack took a step back and gave Axle plenty of room to work his magic as it were. The mechanical engineer watched with great interest as the field medic used a laser scalpel to slice into the lower right section of the rallybot’s back before reaching in and removing the T-Cog. After examining it closer, Axle confirmed what the scientist’s previous scan had detected. There was some internal damage but nothing too serious. The medic then motioned for Tracer to provide him with another storage container for the organ, which she did without delay.

After retrieving the brain module from the workbench, Axle gave both organs to Wheeljack for a moment before moving over and kneeling down in front of Tracer in order to speak with her about Smokescreen’s spark that she was cradling in her arms. The medic suggested that a Transformer was still capable of hearing someone even without a body. ‘Jack was quite taken aback by this notion as it seemed very mystical in nature and not grounded in science or fact. Still, the idea appeared to give the troubled femme some comfort, which was likely the intended purpose all along whether it be true or not.

Axle then returned to where Wheeljack stood and took both organs from him. The scientist nodded when the field medic suggested that he start working on the new frame while the damaged T-Cog was being repaired. Time was still of the essence as keeping these three organs apart for too long could prove fatal for the diversion expert. “Understood, Axle. I have all the parts here to build a complete body frame. I’ll get started right away.”

Wheeljack then grabbed a hover cart and pushed it over to a large storage closet located across the room where he entered in a security code that allowed him access to the contents within. Once inside, the mechanical engineer quickly found exactly what he needed in order to construct a new framework for Smokescreen. He began loading a variety of metal components into the cart that floated just outside the doorway, working diligently as he knew that Smokey’s spark could not sustain itself forever without the rest of the Trinity connected to it.

Thankfully, it took him less than half a breem to retrieve all of the necessary materials. Wheeljack then exited the storage room and pushed the hover cart over to another empty worktable where he would have plenty of room to toil away on. A nearby monitor displayed the recently upgraded schematics of Smokescreen’s new body, providing the scientist with a guide to work from. With his toolkit by his side, ‘Jack had everything he needed to proceed with the fabrication.

Grabbing an armful of metal pieces from the hover cart, Wheeljack placed them neatly onto the worktable before retrieving a laser torch from his kit. He then glanced over at the melted and empty husk that used to house the diversion expert’s spark. “You know, we probably should jettison his old body into space as soon as possible. If Red Alert ever found that, he’d freak the frag out and accuse us all of being murderers,” the mad scientist said, giving a quick look to both Tracer and Axle. “Just a suggestion, of course.” The mechanical engineer then ignited his torch and went to work constructing the rallybot’s new frame.

Bounce Chamber

Red Alert was getting closer to the truth, he could feel it deep down. Now that he had rediscovered the same scent from the hangar bay earlier, he was certain he would find other clues as to what happened. He noticed there were a numberous small, somewhat sparkly objects on the floor of the bounce pad.

"What have we here?", Red Alert asked himself as he stepped closer.

Leaning down he got a better look. Small metal shavings, drops of energon.

"What could this be? One of Wheeljack's inventions break? Or someone nearby when it happened?"

As Red Alert was about to increase the magnification of his optics for a more thorough inspection, he heard the chamber down open.

"Finally decided to help, Bluestreak?", he asked just before he turned around, "Or do you still think I'm para-"

Red Alert stopped talking when he saw the door close, but no one was there.

"Hello? Anyone here? Anyone!?!"

He slowly moved to the center of the room, his optics circling throughout the chamber. He reached for his rifle.

"Who's there? Who is it?", the security asked, becoming unhinged "Is it Mirage? Did Prowl send you here? No, no, I don't hear or smell Mirage. What could?"

Red Alert finally realized that the earlier scent was now stronger. Whatever it was that he had been chasing after earlier- it was here! He put his rifle down, he didn't want to seem to threatening to whatever this creature was.

"It's you! Whoever or whatever you are, show yourself!" Red Alert ordered as he moved slow, following his olfactory sensors to the source.

After a few astroseconds he was sure he had a lock on his target. Creeping toward a ventilation shaft that had been left ajar, Red Alert was sure he had whatever it was cornered. He would soon get some answers.

"There's no sense in hiding! I have the eyes of a cyber-hawk, the ears of a boltbat, the nose of a robo-hound, and the cunning of a turbofox! Come out now!"

Red Alert crouched down a little, his arms spread out, ready to catch anything that would come his way.

Wheeljack’s Lab

The small curl at the corner of her lips pulled downward as Tracer watched both mechs get back to work on bringing Smokescreen back to her. After a moment she turned her attention to the canister still cradled gently in her arms. The glowing blue orb seemed to radiate thin tendrils of light even at the slightest touch or movement of the container.

A gentle smile forced its way back onto her face while watching the whole of Smokescreen’s being pulsated slowly. Tracer had become lost in her gaze while both Wheeljack and Axle went to work on the other organs required for the trinity.

The soft sound of metal being worked on broke the femme’s concentration. Tracer looked up and watched Wheeljack begin the first stages of constructing Smokescreen’s new frame while Axle was working diligently on the inner workings of the T-Cog.

Taking another quick glance down to her arms, Tracer stood up from the stool she was seated on and quietly moved to the area the mechs were working in. Tentatively she stepped in closer until she was standing behind Axle.

“You…you said before that you had performed this procedure on three other mechs.”

Axle stopped his repairs when he heard the soft voice of the femme coming from behind. The medic let out a low sigh before he returned back to his work.

“Yes. I did.”

There was a moment of silence before Tracer decided to press him further.

“Are they all…”

“Still alive? No.”

Even with his back turned to her he knew she had stiffened in fear.

“I lost one when he was ordered back to active duty before he was properly healed.”

The medic lifted his gaze from the T-Cog and stared at the ceiling for moment before he decided to continue his story.

“The official reports stated that he collapsed in the middle of the battlefield. At first the medics thought he took a bullet to the cranium that pierced his brain module, but there was no hole. Their next assumption was that he took a direct hit to his spark. It was only when they transported him to the medical facility that they found out what caused him to suddenly drop.”

Axle let out another sigh, this one much heavier than the last. The memory of being told of one of his patients dying so needlessly was hard to forget.

“Since there hadn't been enough time for all three organs to heal his spark simply reverted back to its reprogramming state. In other words, there was nothing left of the mech he had been. No memories, no personality...a complete blank slate. And to think he never took a shot nor did he even fire one.”

Axle lowered his head down so he could refocus on the repairs he was previously doing. Tracer grew quiet as she stared at Axle’s back. The silence between both mech and femme lasted for nearly a klik until finally she spoke, her tone soft.

“And the other two? How are…are they…?”

There was a low chuckle that came from the medic before he answered her unsure question.

“You can ask them yourself. They’re both on the Guardian right now.”

The femme’s features brightened at the revelation that the other two transplant candidates were still functional and in close proximity. A waft of relief settled over her entire frame before she stepped in further.

“Is there anything I can do to help?”

Soldering iron imbedded deep inside the damaged organ, Axle gave Tracer his answer.

“Unfortunately, this is a one person job, but Wheeljack….?”

Tracer looked up to the mechanical engineer hoping he would have something, anything for her to do. Before she even received a response concerning her query Wheeljack had interjected with the suggestion of jettisoning Smokescreen’s now empty carcass out into space. Tracer gave the engineer a disgusted look before letting out a low grumble.

The recommendation caused Axle to look up from his work casting his gaze on the femme and then turning his attention over to Wheeljack. The medic narrowed his optics as a deep frown formed and settled in. He shook his head slowly as he let out a heavy sigh.

“You’re not used to being tactful are you?”

Bounce Chamber

The small turbofox had moved quickly to one of the stacked piles of containers that had been situated at one end of the chamber. Razr watched closely as Red Alert placed his rifle onto the floor hoping to coax the creature out by nonaggressive means. It didn’t work.

When the mech ordered Razr to reveal himself the creature remained in his place. He noticed that the security chief had begun to almost literally sniff around in hopes of finding where he was hiding. Not going to happen.

Razr cocked his head watching curiously as Red Alert moved away from his location and stopped by the adjacent wall near an unhinged vent grid. Carefully Razr ducked back behind the containers and weaved his way through until he popped his head out from the opposite side…the far end away from where the red and white mech was crouched down; arms spread wide, waiting for him to dart out.

The lithe little creature paced himself before finally darting out from behind hind his hideaway and streaked for the Bounce Chamber door. With an audible hiss the obstruction split down the center and spread open wide, just in time for Razr to breeze through them and stop just down the hall.

If the slow dissipation of his scent didn’t catch Red Alert’s attention then the opening of the doors would.

The Bridge

For a moment, Arcee genuinely believed that she had been bolted down to her chair.

In open defiance of the growing sense of tedium, she stood tall; exorcising a long and much needed sigh as the slender femme extended her frame upright. Relief flooded through her system at even this small gesture, the light pink and white Bot stretching her arms high above her head, fingers pointing towards the ceiling. Finally she released, almost standing on her tip toes before her hands swayed down and she relaxed, a noticeable look of ease settling across her features.

She paced towards the command consul, acutely aware of how quite the Bridge had become, after the likes of Bluestreak, Red Alert and Wheeljack had vacated. It was calm, deceptively so she was sure, but it allowed her a moment to consider what had been happening, what had happened, how so many certainties had been torn away so suddenly.

Almost serenely Arcee tapped away across the keys of the command dais, retrieving the required file and averting her sapphire gaze as a holographic projection hovered clearly into view. It shimmered as she swiftly clapped her hands, the femme spreading her arms wide in a gesture the three dimensional image took as a silent command to expand and grow. It hovered there, spinning slowly on its axis, the holographic sphere spinning sombrely as though it hung within the vastness of space.

Cybertron, as it was once, as she remembered from her earliest of memories. Iacon, Baal, the House of Dorn, the Trench of Eva Vigilance, the Seat of Sanguinius.

Golden, magnificent, home.

With a barely audible sigh she leaned forwards, her elbows resting against the command consol as everything she had been forced to leave behind twice rotated before her.

“We’re going back you know,” she decided, her words directed towards Springer, “me, you, Hot Rod...all of us. When this is done, this war, we’re going back.” She smiled, turning her sapphire gaze from the sphere to the emerald mech.

“It’s going to be our reward.”

Wheeljack’s Lab

As Wheeljack toiled away on Smokescreen’s new frame, he had mostly ignored the small talk between Axle and Tracer. It wasn’t that he didn’t care, the mechanical engineer just wanted to focus on the task at hand and not make any mistakes, or at least any large ones. His suggestion to expel the diversion expert’s original body out of an airlock had not gone over well with either the femme nor the field medic, the latter of which questioning his ability to be sensitive in the face of such adversity.

Turning off his blow torch for a moment, Wheeljack turned around to face both of them, his expression one of deep regret. “Oh my, I’m so sorry, Tracer! I didn’t mean to come off sounding so crass. I just didn’t want Red Alert to find Smokey’s old body that’s all. I had to do a lot of lying in order to protect you two from being discovered by that overly paranoid mech. Even now, he’s probably still very suspicious of everything. At least we have Razr running interference for us.”

The scientist paused for a moment, placing his torch down on the worktable before moving over to where Tracer was standing. “You know, while Smokescreen and I were stationed here on Earth together for several solar cycles, he sometimes spoke of a femme that had touched his spark like no other, one that he wished he would see again some day. I don’t remember him mentioning a name specifically, but I can now only assume he was referring to you. I suppose it was fate that you two finally found one another again.”

Retracting his face shield, Wheeljack offered the troubled femme a warm smile. Most mechs didn’t know it, but ‘Jack actually had a real mouth. He just seldom showed it, except on special occasions such as this one. “Again I’m very sorry for being so crude before, Tracer. It was not my intention. Just remember, the real Smokey is no longer in that body anymore. He’s right there in the canister you’re holding. Now, if you prefer, I can place his remains into storage under lock and key so that even Red Alert can’t get to them. Later on, once Smokey’s back online in his new form, I’ll handle the disposal process, myself. How’s that sound?”

Bounce Chamber/Corridor

"You've been in there long enough! Come out here now or I'm coming in there after you!", the security mech threatened, still waiting anxiously for whatever was in the vent to show itself.

Red Alert was running out of patience. As innocent as this creature might have been, he needed to know what it was and what part it played in this conspiracy. It was a piece of the puzzle that would help show him the entire picture of Prowl's corruption and drive for power, Red Alert was positive of that.

"That's it, I've waited long enough! You had your chance, I'm not playing nice any more!"

Red Alert got down on his knees to the level of the vent.

"You think you can hide in there from me?", Red Alert shouted as he opened the vent completely, "Well, no one can hide from Red A-"

Much to his astonishment, there was nothing behind the vent. Flabbergasted, Red ALert was taken by surprise when he heard the Bounce Chamber door open and close.

"Now what!?!" he exclaimed, quickly getting up and turning around to find no one had entered. A quick sniff and Red Alert knew the creature must have left the room.

"Oh no you don't!", he shouted, "You're not getting away that easy!"

He went to the door as fast as he could, leaving behind his rifle on the floor. The door slid open, and down the hall Red Alert finally saw his query, Razr. It was a surprise to say the least.

"A turbofox!?! How is that even possible? They all died out on Cybertron!", the security director asked himself, "Could one actually have survived all this time? Or is it a clone, or some copy meant to look like one?"

Before too many questions about the origin of Razr filled his processors, Red Alert shook himself back into the moment. Regardless of how a turbofox got there, Red Alert needed to learn what it had been doing, with whom and why.

"However you got here, it doesn't matter!"

Red Alert ran out of the Bounce Chamber, the door closing behind him. He ran just as fast as his mechanical legs would go, and once he was close enough he lunged as Razr, hands out in front of him ready to grab the turbofox.

"I've got you now!"

Wheeljack’s Lab

Axle kept his optics on Wheeljack for a moment before he turned his head to look up at Tracer whose disgusted expression remained, as her optics focused on the mechanical engineer. The field medic certainly knew where Wheeljack was coming from, if the shell was useless then there was no point in holding on to it, but the femme seemed to believe otherwise. Unfortunately the white mech hadn’t thought his suggestion through especially with blurting out his intentions with someone who was emotionally attached to the patient present.

The medic was just about to speak on behalf of Wheeljack in order to ease the tension but he was beaten to the punch. Now that the scientist understood just what his abrupt statement meant Axle resumed his work on the damaged T-Cog’s wiring, but he kept an audio tuned to the two just to be sure their discussion didn’t turn ugly…which was highly unlikely but one could never be too careful.

When Wheeljack’s apology came Tracer couldn’t help but feel a bit guilty for responding in such a negative manner to his suggestion. But to know that the shell that she once knew as Smokescreen…how could she just let it go without a second thought. To her it just felt so wrong. The reasoning behind Wheeljack’s suggestion was a valid one, and she could understand why it should be done, but she just couldn’t bring herself to let it happen.

Tracer lowered her head to gaze at the floor in front of her when Wheeljack mentioned that he had to resort to lying just to help she and Smokescreen, and for that and putting his career on the line, she would be forever grateful.

“My apologies, Wheeljack. I owe you so much for sticking your neck out for me…for us.”

Her head remained lowered but when the engineer’s feet came into view. Tracer looked up and caught Wheeljack’s optics with her own. When he spoke it was a confession that caught her by surprise. It was difficult for her to believe that Smokescreen would have mentioned her…even if not by name…to Wheeljack, and possibly others. When they were separated millions of years ago she had let herself believe that he was gone. That he had already joined with the Allspark. And even after that she still thought about him, hoping she was wrong.

“I..I don’t think it was fate. Luck, but not fate.”

Tracer turned her gaze to the wall to her left as she tried to absorb everything that had occurred. There couldn’t possibly be any more surprises. She wasn’t sure she could handle anymore. The soft click of Wheeljack’s face shield retracting caught her attention causing her gaze to be pulled back to the white mech still standing before her. The scout had never met the engineer until she arrived back on the 22, but after spending such a long time with him recently she had grown used to the face shield. To see him without it was quite a sight.

“No, there’s no need for an apology on your part.”

She forced a small smile but it soon faltered when he mentioned that Smokescreen did no longer inhabit the remains of his old body but in fact he was already in her arms within the canister. Tracer looked down at the pulsating blue orb and nodded in understanding.

“If you could wait until he’s online I would greatly appreciate it. It just…feels right to me that way. I hope that doesn’t make me come off as insane.”

From his position at a smaller worktable Axle had put down his tools and watched the final bits of their conversation with a soft smile on his face. His optics moved between the two until he focused on Wheeljack, who he gave an approving nod.

“Ahem I believe we should get back to work. And I distinctly remember that Tracer had asked whether we could use some help. How about it Wheeljack? Anything she can do?”

Corridor

Razr was not surprised when Red Alert nearly jumped through the Bounce Chamber’s doors. He was especially delighted that the security chief had left his rifle in the chamber as if the red and white had caught up to him he’d surly be a smoldering pile of what ‘used to be’ a turbofox.

The little creature’ audios perked up as, not only did Red spot him, he spotted the mech. Now Red knew just what he was after and it didn’t seem as though he knew where Razr come from or that he was a pet.

Razr sat on his haunches and stared at Red as if he were beckoning him to chase after him. The turbofox’s head cocked to one side as he tamped his right paw on the floor. As soon as Red Alert took off in his direction Razr stood up and headed directly for the security chief at half speed. When he was within range the creature leapt up and over Red Alert and padding down the white and red mech’s back in order to keep up his momentum.

After his leap Razr ended up completely down the corridor. The small creature stopped and took a quick look back and tamped his right paw again as if challenging the mech to catch him. Of course he never would. But at least the chase would be interesting. Hopefully catching Red’s attention Razr set off in the down the remainder of the corridor and away from Wheeljack’s lab.

Wheeljack’s Lab

Wheeljack smiled as Tracer asked him if he would wait to dispose of Smokescreen’s old body until after he was back online in his reconstituted form. The femme hoped that she did not sound crazy for making such a request, a sentiment which caused ‘Jack to shake his head. “Of course you’re not insane, Tracer. I completely understand. I was the one who was crazy for asking you to dump your dear friend out an airlock. So, no worries. I’ll move his old body into storage ASAP. That way you won’t have to look at it anymore. Out of sight, out of mind.”

The mad scientist walked over to where the melted carcass still lay motionless, stopping to glance at Axle as he suggested that they get back to work. The engineer nodded in agreement as the field medic then followed up his recommendation with a friendly reminder that Tracer had previously asked if there was anything she could do to help them. “I’m not really sure. Let me think...” Wheeljack replied as he loaded Smokey’s destroyed body onto a hover cart and pushed it over to the large storage closet on the other side of the lab. It would probably be a good idea to keep the troubled femme occupied in some way in order to keep herself from growing bored or having her erratic processor wander too much in thought, which could result in her becoming unstable as she grew more and more worried for Smokescreen’s well being.

As he considered what task he could assign to Tracer, Wheeljack entered his encryption code, unlocking the storage closet once more. Thankfully, there was now plenty of room within since the scientist had already removed the metal parts needed for the frame. The doors slid open and ‘Jack pushed the diversion expert’s remains deep inside before swiftly exiting again and securing the entrance with an even stronger set of codes that no one would be able to break. He needed to made sure that the carcass would remain undiscovered in order to allow ‘Jack time to properly dispose of it in the future.

Once that unpleasant chore was done, the mechanical engineer turned and walked back over towards Tracer. After a few more astroseconds of contemplation, Wheeljack simply shrugged as he stopped a few feet from the troubled femme. “Well, Tracer, I suppose I could use some assistance in constructing Smokey’s new frame. If anything it would make things go faster. Are you any good with a welding torch?” The scientist asked as he motioned for the femme to join him. 'Jack turned and pointed at the monitor near the worktable where the beginnings of a torso was already taking shape. “These are the schematics for Smokescreen’s new body. As you can see, I upgraded his alt mode but it’s nothing too drastic. If you have basic tech skills then you should have no problem fabricating a new pair of door wings for him. Think you can manage that while I continue to work on his torso?”

Wheeljack’s Lab

Tracer had kept her attention on the canister that she clutched to her chest keeping its contents as close as possible. She turned her gaze back up to Wheeljack when he reassured her that she was not insane for wanting to keep Smokescreen’s empty shell for just a while longer. It was just what she felt was the proper way to do things…at least to her, and thankfully Wheeljack understood her reasoning.

With a delicate smile the femme placed her hand gently on the mechanical engineer’s shoulder and nodded.

“Thank you Wheeljack. I really appreciate it. And you weren’t crazy, you’re doing your job, and for that I can’t complain. You’ve already done so much.”

That small smile disappeared as she looked away from Smokescreen’s trusted friend. She caught sight of the bench where the vial of Syk had been placed and she couldn’t help but wonder that if Smokescreen didn’t make it she wouldn’t be able to cope. I’ll have to go back to Oil Slick; try to mend the fences. Try to get him to understand that it was a mistake, a misunderstanding. It'd be the only way because I can’t stop using by myself. I can’t do it on my own. But most of all, I don’t want to do it on my own.

Tracer let out a frustrated sigh while focusing on her thoughts that were filled with nothing but what ifs. The movement from Wheeljack caught her attention making her turn around to watch him place the empty shell into one of the storage closets and then locked it. She was put slightly at ease with the gesture but she would only be satisfied once Smokescreen was finally up and functional.

The scout remained stationary when Wheeljack finished with his gruesome task and made his way over to where she stood. She lowered her optics to the floor just before he stopped in front of her. Even when he mentioned he could use her help with the task, Tracer simply couldn’t lift her optics to meet his. It had been difficult to do so before hand, but now it was almost impossible.

“I prefer computer hacking and reprogramming, but yes I can weld.“

Tracer followed along behind the scientist and took a look at the monitor next to the work bench where the beginning of Smokescreen’s new body was being constructed. Her focus left the frame work and moved to the schematics that Wheeljack had worked up. They looked quite similar to Smokescreen’s old look putting her more at ease. Seeing him with a new body, that was to her unrecognizable, would be too much to bear.

“I can do that. No problem.”

The femme took a quick look around and spotted a good location to set the canister she had been holding down where it would remain out of the way and safe. Her hands now free she stepped back to the work bench and gathered up several sheets of metal and placed them down in an area large enough for her to work.

Finally settled in Tracer arranged the metal into the likeness of what would soon become Smokescreen’s door wings. Satisfied with the look, Tracer began to weld the pieces together.

The Bridge

Springer had been stuck on the bridge for quite some time. He wasn’t too surprised though as there didn’t seem to be much else going on. It looked like they had come back from Cybertron to some battles taking place on the surface but they had quickly wound down. He had watched the Ark-19 pull away and leave, a surprising development he hadn’t been informed of. When he asked the Guardian about it they assured him it was being send off for repairs, which was enough to satisfy him. So here he sat, waiting to be relieved, new orders or for something to happen.

He looked up from the helm as Arcee spoke up. He had almost forgotten that there was anyone else on the bridge. The triplechanger flashed her a smile. “Well it will certainly take a lot of cleaning up to get it looking that good again, not to mention a fresh coat of paint. I’m sure we’ll get there eventually though, each day is a step closer.”

Wheeljack’s Lab

Wheeljack appreciated Tracer’s thanks for all the help he had provided both her and Smokescreen. It was unfortunate that everything had gone so wrong for them, but at least they weren’t both off-lined during their unauthorized excursion to the Earth’s surface. Granted, the diversion expert was in as bad a shape as one could get, his old body so badly damaged that repairig it was simply not an option. Thankfully, the rallybot’s Trinity of primary organs were successfully harvested with Axle’s assistance, and the mad scientist, himself, was already well into the construction of a new body. Still, Smokey wasn’t out of danger yet. The Trinity could only be separated for so long before each began to fail and shut down. Time was of the essence, not just because of that reason, but also because the longer it took them the greater the chance of discovery by either Red Alert or someone else.

“You’re welcome, Tracer,” Wheeljack began to say as he made his way back to the berth where the half-built torso was resting. “I’d do anything for a friend. Besides, I kinda owed Smokey for a past mistake of mine. Not to mention any friend of his is also a friend of mine.” The mechanical engineer flashed the femme a smile just before his face shield slid back across his visage once again. ‘Jack reached down and picked up his laser torch from the worktable as Tracer confirmed that she could, in fact, weld even though she preferred hacking and programming computers. “Sounds good to me. Some reprogramming may be required once Smokey’s body is finished, but for now welding is all we can work on. There’s some sheet metal over there you can use for the door wings. Should be about the right size I think.”

Wheeljack then iginited his torch, waiting for a moment until he saw Tracer find and retrieve the metal parts he had pointed out. Once she began the fabrication process, the mechanical engineer turned towards his own worktable and went back to work on the partially constructed torso. Sparks flew as he welded two support pieces together in the lower abdominal region before moving on to the upper chest area. With two mechs working on Smokescreen’s new frame, it should cut down the time by at least half, allowing Axle to transplate the organs into the completed body all the sooner.

Corridor

"What the!?!", Red Alert shouted in surprise as the swift turbofox jumped off of him.

Too focused on where Razr was going then on his own movement, Red Alert went into the floor sliding. Some sparks flew from the friction of his metal body along the metal floor for several astroseconds until his momentum came to a stop.

"Rrrrrrr, you slagging mecha-fleabag!", the security director grumbled, more embarassed than hurt as he got up on his feet.

Turning around, Red Alert saw Razr facing away from him. If the security director didn't know any better, he'd swear the turbofox was toying with him. Red Alert wasn't going to have any of that, though.

"Think you're so clever, huh?", he asked, believing the little creature unable to understand him.

He may be quick, but he doesn't have access to the Ark-22 security systems.

Red Alert lifted his right arm, and a panel opened revealing a communications pad. Still looking at Razr, he punched in a complex security code that sent a signal to the Ark-22 computer. He grinned confidently at Razr, sure that he was outsmarting the little turbofox, as a small force field hummed to life further down the corridor.

"All right you little fur-bot.", Red Alert gloated as he closed the panel on his arm, "I've got you now!"

Red Alert ran again toward Razr, hoping to chase the turbofox into the force field and incapacitate him. He wouldn't escape this time, and Red Alert would have his answers.

Wheeljack’s Lab

The three ‘Bots remained silent as each of them worked diligently on their separate projects. As time passed the frame that would soon become the new body for the diversion expert was taking shape. The torso that Wheeljack had been constructing was transforming gradually into something very recognizable. And as for the work Tracer was doing…the fabrication of Smokescreen’s door wings were coming along a lot faster than she had even anticipated. Then again she was very familiar with the construction of said appendages. After all she was also out fitted with a pair herself.

“Damnit.”

Axle carefully removed the clamp from the inside of the T-Cog and placed it down on the bench. For a moment the medic simply stared at the organ; his digits interlaced and his chin resting on top. He let out a low sigh before he quickly stood up.

“What’s wrong?”

The femme’s worried voice broke through the din of the welding torch being used by the mechanical engineer. Tracer stopped her work as she watched Axle get up from his stool, a frustrated expression plastered on his visage.

As Axle moved around his bench his expression turned to something that seemed to be a bit more upbeat.

“Everything’s fine. I just need to gather a few more tool and wires.”

The field medic flashed the upset femme a reassuring smile and gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze. The gesture lasted for only a moment before Axle moved on to one of the storage closets and collected what he would need to complete his work. Tracer watched from over her shoulder but she stopped knowing that if something actually did go wrong the medic would have asked for Wheeljack’s assistance. With her mind at ease, she let out a relieved sigh and returned back to her work.

Silence permeated the lab as each one of them continued to focus on getting everything completed as soon as possible, but to Tracer the silence was deafening. It was simply crushing her from the inside out. She was having a very difficult time coping and finally broke through the curtain of no sound.

“Wheeljack? Wha..what was it that happened that made you feel you owed Smokescreen? If you don’t mind my asking.”

Corridor

From just half way down the corridor Razr watched with interest at just what the security chief was up to. And to the turbofox it looked as though Red Alert was utilizing his credentials in order to set some kind of trap. It was then the little speed demon heard the white and red mech’s angry inquiry. Razr lifted his head and cocked it to the right slightly. Red Alert wanted to know if his nemesis was clever, Razr obliged him with a deep nod of his head.

The sound of the force field humming to life caught the creature’s attention. Razr turned his head back in the direction he was headed and simply stared at the barrier that now blocked his path. Not wasting any time, and certainly not giving the paranoid security chief the edge, Razr turned around fully to face him and lowered his head. At the same time the little Cybertronian game sat down on his haunches and waited patiently for Red Alert to move in closer.

As the obsessed mech finally came into range Razr rose onto all four limbs and took off directly toward the hunter. As he closed the distance to Red, Razr used his momentum once again, but instead of vaulting up and over, Razr slipped to the right of the security mech and used the wall to make his escape.

With his stalker now behind him and the corridor ahead fair game, Razr didn’t bother to goad instead he kept his pace at half speed and headed toward the docking tube that connected the 22 to the Guardian.

Wheeljack’s Lab

Wheeljack remained focused and steadfast as his work on Smokescreen’s new torso continued unabated. The scientist barely noticed when Axle moved to one of the smaller storage closets to retrieve more tools and wiring before returning to the damaged T-cog. Tracer and the field medic had exchanged words but those statements were lost on the mechanical engineer as he was only interested in getting the frame done so that the diversion expert would be whole once more.

Having welded the final chestplate into position, Wheeljack stood back for a brief moment to view the completed torso section for Smokescreen’s new body. It was still unpainted and a little rough around the edges, but at least it was finally taking shape overall. Now, work could begin on a pair of arms and legs as well as constructing a new cranial unit.

It was then that the silence that had surrounded him and the other two mechs for a while was at last broken by a sudden question from Tracer. Her query seemed to be one of small talk, but it didn’t bother the mad scientist any as he began to gather up additional metal parts from the hover cart nearby. “I don’t mind at all, Tracer. It happened a while ago well before things had escalated on this obscure planet. Neither Prime nor Megatron had even gotten involved at that point and things were generally very quiet on the battle front as we waited for the Decepticons to make any kind of move.”

With what he needed gathered up in his arms, Wheeljack moved back over to the worktable and set the metal down next to the finished torso before continuing his story. “Basically, I had tried to enhance a few of Smokey’s ECM warheads for his shoulder-mounted launchers in order to make them more powerful. The idea behind the concept was to make it harder for the enemy to shield themselves from the rockets’ disrupting effects on their guidance systems. I thought I had it figured out, but during a small skirmish with some seekers, one of the newly-enhanced warheads exploded in Smokescreen's faceplate when he tried to fire it, and he ended up in stasis for a few cycles. I felt terrible about the whole thing, but Smokes just told me to forget about it and that accidents happen. Of course, he’s never been one to hold a grudge, especially when friends are involved, but I still felt that I owed him for my mistake that almost cost him his spark.”

Wheeljack then returned his full attention back to the task at hand. He thought for a moment before coming to the conclusion that it would be better to build a new cranial unit first as a finished set of arms and legs were not required in order to transplant the Trinity organs into his body. “Axle,” the scientist said as he turned towards the field medic. “I’ve completed Smokey’s new torso, and I’m now going to construct a new head unit before I get to work on his appendages. I figured that once you’re done with the T-cog, you can then just transplant the three organs into his frame and cranium without having to wait for completed limbs. It should save on time that way and get the Trinity reunited all the sooner, don’t you agree?”

Wheeljack’s Lab

Tracer turned the welding torch off and placed it on the worktable’s surface. She took a good look at the first completed door wing and then to Wheeljack who was more than willing to tell her just what happened to Smokescreen that made the mechanical engineer want to redeem himself. From her location Tracer made her way around the bench slowly with her optics completely focused on the mech.

The rendition Wheeljack offered came as quite a surprise to the scout. She had no idea, and she never would have since she was never stationed on Earth, that something like that would have occurred. But the response from Smokescreen, however, was typical Smokescreen. Forgive and forget. A delicate smile curled her lips as she looked down at the new frame the engineer was working on.

“Yeah. He’s always been like that. Never one to hold any kind of grudge."

The smile faded as quickly as it appeared as Tracer turned back around and moved to the workbench.

"I really miss him."

The femme let out a low sigh as she arranged the last pieces of material in the desired shape she was looking for. As soon as everything was in position Tracer fired up the welder and went back to work.

The story Wheeljack had offered went by Axle’s audios while the medic was concentrating on getting the diversion expert’s T-cog repaired. His previous outburst was something he tried to cover up by admitting that everything was fine. In reality the innards of the organ had been compromised. The wires and clamps he had collected were vital in keeping the cog functional.

Axle didn’t want to alarm the femme as it seemed she was already worried more than she needed to be. After a few minutes he was able to get the first several wires connected, but the integrity of the organ was in jeopardy.

“Jack. I need you to get the cranial unit done as soon as you can.”

After speaking to the mechanical engineer out loud, Axle quickly turned to a private comm link.

>>”I don’t want Tracer to hear this, but the T-cog is starting to fail. I need to get the entire trinity housed. If this organ shuts down the brain module will quickly follow. After that it’ll only be a matter of time before his spark extinguishes.”<<

Axle looked up at the white mech with a worried expression on his face.

Wheeljack’s Lab

Axle’s verbal answer to his question was not as alarming to Wheeljack as the private one the field medic quickly sent to the mechanical engineer right afterwards. Smokescreen’s T-cog was failing and it needed to be housed and reconnected with the rest of the Trinity organs as soon as possible. The mad scientist could clearly sense the urgency in Axle’s words. This was just as much a life and death struggle as any battle with the ‘Cons. One wrong move or error in judgment and Tracer would be missing Smokey forever.

Keeping with the private channel already established, Wheeljack responded, flashing the medic an equally worried look: >>”Understood, Axle. I will expedite my efforts and alert you immediately when I am finished.”<<

Closing the comm link, the mechanical engineer turned his attention back to his worktable where all of the parts he needed were laid out next to the completed torso section. Fabricating the helmet portion would be easy enough. Using a blow torch, Wheeljack heated up a thick piece of metal, which allowed the scientist to easily bend and mold it into the appropriate shape. Once 'Jack was happy with the overall look, additional smaller metal bits were then welded together to form the rallybot’s signature chevron that decorated the front of his helmet. It was all coming together nicely, but now came the hard part. Smokescreen’s faceplate and neck regions were comprised of many more intricate pieces to allow for range of motion and facial expressions. It was nothing Wheeljack couldn’t handle, of course, but he couldn’t rush it too much, either. After all, it was a very delicate task to manage.

Okay, hands steady, now let’s do this, Wheeljack thought to himself confidently as he continued with his work. Thankfully, time passed with little to no distractions coming his way, allowing the scientist to completely focus on fabricating a new faceplate. Afterwards he inserted two brand new optics into the empty holes and covered them with blue tinted glass. Once that was done, ‘Jack moved on to the neck, which had to be flexible enough without also being too weak and thus vulnerable in battle. Using sturdy but more pliable alloys was the key here to ensure everything functioned properly. Ahh, there we go! That's perfect! His thoughts signaled that the most difficult part was finally done. Pleased with the results, the mechanical engineer smiled under his face shield as he straightened his posture up and placed his welding torch back down on the worktable.

Wheeljack then cracked his stiff knuckle joints with satisfaction before reaching back down to assemble the larger fabricated pieces. First, ‘Jack carefully installed the faceplate into the helmet portion of Smokescreen’s new cranial unit, making sure the edges were aligned and hooked together properly. Then, the scientist lifted the neck piece up and attached it under the base of the cranium via a ball joint. Finally, once all was secured, the engineer connected the diversion expert’s newly constructed head module to the top of the finished torso, utilizing another ball joint as everything fitted perfectly into place.

“There, his head and torso are done,” Wheeljack exclaimed aloud, looking over at Axle. Checking his internal chronometer, ‘Jack quickly realized that several breems had passed while his concentration had been so focused on completing the new cranium before it was too late. Hopefully, he had not taken too much time in doing so. Otherwise, there would not only be a dead diversionary tactician in his lab, but a very distraught femme, as well.

Corridor

"AGH, NO!", Red Alert yelled in frustration as the turbofox managed to slip away from him. The security director made a futile attempt to grab him as Razr darted to the right of him, but he was just too small and too quick.

"No, no, slaggit NO!", he grumbled to himself as he stopped and turned around.

Red Alert expected to find the turbofox waiting just down the hallway like the last two times- but he wasn't. Instead Razr had continued running down the hallway. Still determined not to let the small creature get away, Red Alert ran after him.

Red Alert ran as fast as he could, though it nowhere near fast enough to catch up to the turbofox. The security director might have had a better chance in his much faster alternate mode had they not been aboard an Autobot vessel. Maybe some of the Autobots with much smaller alternate modes could traverse quickly through the corridors without problem, but most alternate forms were too big to safely make some of the sharper, narrower turns.

At some point Razr was too far ahead for Red Alert to see, but fortunately his olfactory sensors could still pick up his sent. After rounding a corner, the security director stopped in his tracks. In front of his was the docking tube that led to the Guardian.

"You're taking me to the Guardian?", Red Alert asked rhetorically, "But why?"

Red Alerts processors worked overtime as he contemplated where Razr was leading him. He thought back to the missing shuttle, Wheeljack's lies, tamped sensor readings, the Ark-19 leaving and launching an escape pod, Prowl's lies, the "unintentional" orbital bounce, the turbofox leading him around right now.....

"Dear Primus,", Red Alert said as he came to a conclusion, "This is what Prowl wanted all along, isn't it? Everthing on the Ark-22 has just been a distraction to give him time to prepare. And now he's leading me right onto his own ship, his territory on his terms."

Red Alert felt a fool that he hadn't realized it until now. He had been running around for the past cycle trying to find answers, suspicious of some of his own friends like Bluestreak and Inferno. He had run himself ragged, and now he was most likely heading into a trap of Prowl's own design. Of course, Red Alert had to admit that the military strategist's logic was sound. Red Alert's had never been on the Guardian before. As opposed to the Ark 19 where he'd been stationed for some time and knew all of it's security systems, Red Alert would have limited access on the Protectobot's frigate.

"This is exactly what Prowl wants.", Red Alert said to himself, questioning whether to continue after Razr or not, "There may be no one I can trust over there, not even Kup or the Dinobots, if they're even still alive."

For a moment Red Alert thought about turning around and going back to his quarters, come up with some plan to be better prepared. But no, he couldn't. It would take too much time, time that Prowl probably use to strengthen his own means. It may have been a trap, but Red Alert had already gone too far to turn back.

"All right, if that's the game you want to play, then I'll play. Just don't expect me to play nice.", Red Alert said to himself with purpose as he continued after Razr, into the Guardian.