- Motto: "Transform and smoke 'em!"
- Weapon: Twin Shoulder-Mounted Rocket Launchers
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.
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?”