The Energon Pub

A/N - So, I am fully aware how my formatting has evolved into a completely non-standard mesh of script and novel, but...I don't care. ^_^ It's my story...my first story in a long, long time, so I'm allowing myself the freedom to do what I want. =D

This update is HUGE. A lot going on, a lot of 'bots to account for, a lot of reactions to be had. I jumped around to so many heads in this section, I don't think I can return to my own. Oh well, not like I was sane before. ^_~


CYBERTRON - GLADIATORIAL ARENA

A Quintesson’s appearance alone is not intimidating. Their five faces, especially the face of Death, may still have the ability to strike fear into a youngling with its looks alone but generally speaking, any bot who was around during the Great War knows how incredibly cowardice a Quintesson is when confronted and stripped on his toys. To the misfortune of Megatron and his Decepticons, these particular three Quintessons beaming from the arena’s monitors have plenty of toys and a giant cloaked warship looming ominously overhead.

The Quintessons, each wearing a different face, introduce themselves as Brinn, Deliberata and Sevax. Deliberata is obviously filling the highest rank of the three, given his upstaged position from the other two. With his War face, he explains just how intimidating their warship is and how any hostile against it will only trigger a chain reaction of doom for anyone brash enough to attempt attacking it.

Megatron is too livid to speak. He is fully aware of the volatile situation and therefore makes it a point not to speak for fear his temper could very well get him destroyed on the spot. He isn’t sure which angers him more: the attack the Quintessons just made or the fact that he didn’t account for a third party interest in Kaon. All the Decepticons are dumbfounded with shock, and look to their leader for a sign of reassurance to a hopeful outcome. The tyrant’s expression screams a multitude of feelings, none of which can even be remotely interpreted as hope.

Deliberata continues the speech with a pride that belittles every listening ear in the arena.

DELIBERATA
We are the same three you have no doubt seen in archived images and videos of this very arena, for we were the ones who oversaw its operations during the war. Back then we were merely looking for a venue to sell our war-grade weaponry. And you, being the warmongering beings you are, gladly partook of our offerings, ignorant to the fact that we conducted business with both factions.

Starscream is not one to be intimidated easily, regardless of the odds stacked against him. Having served as Megatron’s second-in-command all through the war, a precarious situation such as this is nothing new. There were many times in their past where he stepped up to be the voice of their leader, be it from Megatron’s temporary incapacity or simply because the jet was stupid enough to over step his rank whenever he darn well felt like it. This moment was a clear case of an incapacitated leader and Starscream knew why. He is an expert in the field of Megatron’s temper and recognizes his leader’s current vow of silence as a means to protect his own chassis.

STARSCREAM
(fearlessly shouting upward)
Enough with the history lesson! Explain your intentions.

All the arena’s occupants lock their wide-optic stare to Starscream. Everyone expected another set of missiles to create a crater where the seeker stood, but that did not happen. The smallest Quintesson, Sevax, switches his face from Wisdom to Anger, but that is the only visible reaction from the three. Deliberata appears indifferent to the seeker’s outburst.

DELIBERATA
We are here for the crystal mines.

STARSCREAM
(sarcastically)
Who isn’t?

DELIBERATA
(growing slightly annoyed)
The Decepticons have failed repeatedly to overthrow the Autobot’s control of these mines. We are here to do the job right and ultimately take control of the planet.

STARSCREAM
How original.

Starscream looks over the faces of the other Decepticons, all of them silently screaming ‘shut the frag up’; He ignores their warning and continues the interrogation.

STARSCREAM
What makes you think you can overpower the Autobots? Iacon City is a veritable fortress, impenetrable by even your warship’s firepower.

The other Quintesson, Brinn, switches his face to Anger as the three murmur amongst themselves in regard to the questioning seeker who apparently doesn’t value his life. After a moment of deliberation, Deliberta turns to face the crowd.

DELIBERATA
What is your name?

STARSCREAM
(not missing a beat)
I am Starscream: Chief Science Officer and Second-in-Command of the Decepticons.

Shockwave crosses him arms in annoyance.

RANDOM BLITZWING
(tactless as usual)
I sought Shockvave vas Seco--

SHOCKWAVE
(snapping)
Silence, fool!

DELIBERATA
Well, Starscream: proclaimed practitioner of science…are you familiar with the latest technological breakthroughs in the development of weapons of mass destruction?

A chilling silences falls over the arena. Even Starscream is left momentarily speechless.

STARSCREAM
(knocked down a few notches)
Y-you…have…weapons of ma--

DELIBERATA
Yes, and if the Autobots refuse us access to the crystal mines, we will use our newfound technology and wipe this planet’s surface clean of its unworthy inhabitants.

Blitzwing has gained enough assurance, after witnessing Starscream’s example, that simple questioning will not threaten his life and he decides to join in the conversation.

ICY BLITZWING
(with cowering)
Von’t zat destroy ze minez az vell?

Blackarachnia leans toward the triple-changer, speaking only in earshot of him and the other Decepticons

BLACKARACHNIA
The mines are underground…they just said ‘wipe this planet’s surface clean’.

SHOCKWAVE
(chiming in apprehensively but curiously)
What is stopping you from unleashing your weapon now and taking the mines for yourself?

DELIBERATA
Because every sentient being deserves the right to chose between a life of slavery and certain oblivion.

More silence falls over the arena.

DELIBERATA
We need able-chassis to work the mines once we acquire it. Surely some of you value your spark over your dignity.

Megatron’s scowl deepens at the mere suggestion of returning to the sorry existence of a crystal miner.

DELIBERATA
It is not in our best interest to cause a mass extinction of Cybertron, but if you or the Autobots push us to that extreme, we will do it. There are plenty of less resistant and potentially grateful beings in the universe who are capable of working your mines.

Starscream is not pleased with the options. He is too brilliant to be a crystal miner and far too valuable to be offline. Times like these always bring out the best (worst) in Starscream, and rather than back away with his ailerons between his legs, he falls back on the one thing he is a master of. Treachery.

STARSCREAM
(stepping away from the other Decepticons)
What if there was a Cybertronian who could provide you with a limitless source of energon?

Megatron thought it impossible to get angrier, but this statement proved him wrong. His blazing crimson optics impale the seeker with a near spark-extinguishing glare and his ventilations increase dangerously, every loose bolt in his chassis rattling in response.

DELIBERATA
(with skeptical interest)
I am not fond of guessing games, seeker. Either state your purpose or stop wasting my time.

Starscream dares to look over the expressions on his comrades’ faces, all of them but Megatron’s that is. He can’t bear it. Blackarachnia’s mix of disgust and heartbreak is enough to give him second thoughts, but Megatron’s volcanic glare could very well stunt his plan of action. He looks back up to the mystery ship and steps farther away from the Decepticons.

STARSCREAM
(voice wavering)
I know a formula--

BLACKARACHNIA
(panicked)
Starscream, no!

STARSCREAM
(straining to ignore the predacon)
A means to convert organic material into energon.

Megatron, now fuming, drops the energon converter to the ground and crushes it under foot, his menacing glare never once averting from his betrayer.

Starscream caught the action from the corner of his optics. He shudders with a guilt he’s never felt, but stays focused on the threat above. He stands silently for moment that felt like an eternity.

STARSCREAM
(voice pitched uncharacteristically low)
Spare me a demeaning fate…(drops his head) and I will build you a large-scale energon converter.

That statement is the last straw for Megatron. He pulls both swords from his back with a vicious growl and charges at Starscream, forcefully pushing the other Decepticons from his b-lining path to the traitor. Starscream steps back with cowardice, preparing to take the wrath but a massive laser beam fires down from the sky, scorching the ground directly in front of Megatron. The former gladiator halts then takes a step back. The beam travels across Megatron’s leg, burning through his metal plating and nearly severing the mighty limb at the knee. Megatron roars in agony and frustration and stumbles down to his uninjured knee.

DELIBERATA
Let that prove as a minor example to what will happen to any of you who act out in defiance or attempt to escape the arena.

Before the ‘cons can properly react to their fallen leader, another beam shoots down from the sky and engulfs Starscream. Within seconds, the glowing image of the defiant seeker dematerializes and the beam retracts back up to the assumed ship. Everyone looks to the screens for answers but the Quintesson’s image fades to black, leaving the arena in silence once again.

BLACKARACHNIA
(utterly shocked and confused)
What happened to him!?

Lugnut kneels down and extends a claw to help his leader.

LUGNUT
(bitterly snaps at Blackarachnia)
Who cares! (shifting focus to Megatron) Master…c-can you stand up?

SHOCKWAVE
I would assume he has been warped onto their ship.

HOTHEAD BLIZTWING
(infuriated)
I hope zhey rip him apart piece by piece zen toss his remains back down here for me to crush wis my bare hands!

BLACKARACHNIA
(heartbroken)
How could he do this to us?

Megatron shuns Lugnut’s helps and plants his swords into the ground, using them as a support to stand up on his good leg. He raises both swords over his head then, with a raging grunt, forcefully impales the ground with them, leaving them standing in the shape of an ‘X’.

MEGATRON
(voice wavering in maddening anger)
Because, Blackarachnia, he is and always will be a traitorous piece of filth.

Megatron turns away and limps off the arena floor. He disappears behind a side door, leaving the Decepticons to apparently fend for themselves. Lugnut stands dumbfounded while Blitzwing continues to fume with his Hothead face. Blackarachnia looks to Shockwave for a shred of direction but the intel bot can only return a blank stare.

BLACKARACHNIA
He wouldn’t do this to us, Shockwave. Not now…not with--

SHOCKWAVE
(finally showing signs of emotion, namely irritation)
With what? A highly unlikely rebirth of morality? His actions do not surprise me in the slightest. If you had been around during the war and witnessed his behavior then, this would come as no surprise to you.

BLACKARACHNIA
(defensive)
I’ve been around long enough to see a change in him.

SHOCKWAVE
You let yourself be fooled because you wanted to see the good in him. (turns away in disgust)…I am also a fool for not predicting this earlier. He has probably been cooperating with the Quintessons for some time now…which leads me to wonder.

ICY BLITZWING
Do you sink Chromia iz in on it az vell?

Shockwave lingers quietly in calculating thought but is then distracted by the approaching green-striped predacon. Waspinator eyes Megatron’s swords curiously, reaching his claws out to wrap around the handle on one. Lugnut promptly backhands the disrespectful stranger, sending him hurdling several feet then crashing to the ground.

LUGNUT
Nobody touches our master’s swords unless they wish to challenge him.

WASPINATOR
(rubbing his aft with a disgruntled buzz)
Wazzpinator not afraid of challenge. (he staggers to his feet) Wazzpinator take revenge for interruption of fight.

Lugnut storms up to the blasphemous bug, all five optics locked disgustedly on the creature’s Decepticon symbol.

LUGNUT
You are not worthy of our insignia. Who gave it to you!?

Waspinator sizes up the former arena champion, recognizing him from the archived photos, then cowers slightly as the mech’s reputation becomes clear to him. He peaks around the Kaon Krushers’s massive form and points a claw at Blackarachnia.

WASPINATOR
She give it to Wazzpinator…(the sight of her ignites his grudge) after she turn Wazzpinator into a freak!

BLACKARACHNIA
(standing her ground)
You were a freak before I ever met you! I did you a favor and gave you powers beyond that of your Autobot form.

Waspinator buzzes angrily and attempts to advance on her but is blocked by Lugnut’s claw. He glares at the giant but continues his verbal assault on the femme.

WASPINATOR
Juzztify it all you want, zpiderbot, but we both know Wazzpinator’s intereztz were not yourzz! Zpiderbot never should have double-crozzed Wazzpinator, but zpiderbot ezzpezially should have never double-crozzed dealerbot. Wazzpinator zuggezt zpiderbot watch her back.

The Deceptions look to Blackarachnia with questioning.

HOTHEAD BLITZWING
What’s he talking about!? Did you give Svindle a reason to betray our faction?

Blackarachnia stands in guilty silence, looking over the optics that are locked curiously on her. She has little regret for her actions against Swindle and doubts her colleagues would have behaved much different in her situation. Her betrayal to the faction is nothing in comparison to the horrendous treachery that just took place. Her thoughts wander to her confrontation with Swindle, remembering how desperately she wanted that All Spark shard. She thinks about the resurrection and of Starscream then glances down at the wreckage that was her partner’s precious invention.

BLACKARACHNIA
(bitterly)
My actions against Swindle are hardly worthy of warranting (gestures upward) all this. He’s likely been in bed with the Quints from the get go. Our precious little spy bot probably is too. It’s no doubt one big traitorous Decepticon party up there now!

Shockwave is not pleased with her accusations of his protégé and he decides to determine the double-agent’s loyalty with a simple comm call.

SHOCKWAVE
(into comm)
Chromia, come in.

Blackarachnia is relieved to see her comrades’ focus move off her and onto Shockwave. She kneels down next to the converter and retrieves the All Spark fragment from its wreckage. She discretely slides it into her side pouch but continues to fumble with the converter as if confronting its symbolism with grief; a charade which takes very little acting on her part.

Chromia isn’t responding and Blitzwing quickly bores of the apparently fruitless comm call. He darts his attention around the arena, searching for an absent undecided whom he would like to direct his frustration at.

HOTHEAD BLITZWING
Where did zat miserable bounty hunter go?

ABOVE KAON - QUINTESSON WARSHIP

Starscream struggles against the tentacles wrapped tightly around each of his limbs. The instant he materialized into the small room, the things came streaming out of the walls and ceiling and prevented him from taking a single step. He didn’t expect a formal greeting from the aliens and it was no surprise that they continued to hide behind their defenses, but this assault seemed a bit over zealous. Directly overhead there is a screen on the wall, and it took only a moment for the three Quintesson’s image to appear on that screen.

DELIBERATA
(obnoxiously pompous)
Swindle informs us you have a history of betraying your faction…and I’ll admit to hearing your name mentioned numerous times during discussions of infamous incidences of insubordination.

STARSCREAM
(still struggling, voice strained)
I’m flattered.

DELIBERATA
If your own faction cannot even trust you then how do expect us to?

STARSCREAM
(regretfully lowering his pride)
Because you are the ones in power and I am obviously defenseless.

The Quintesson Leader pauses a moment, trying to decipher the seeker’s sincerity.

DELIBERATA
You realize we could use you merely for extracting said formula then send you back down below to have your fate determined by your…fellow Decepticons.

The idea sends chills down the jet’s back but he quickly stifles his fears, standing firm on the unique advantage his altered processor has given him.

STARSCREAM
The formula alone isn’t enough for you. You won’t understand its complexity. You need to me. I am the only one who can put it to use in a conversion mechanism.

DELIBERATA
(gesturing behind him)
Brinn here is a remarkable scientist, mastering not only in our race’s technologies but in Cybertronian engineering as well.

STARSCREAM
(unimpressed)
But what does he know of organic chemistry?

Brinn switches from his Judgment to Wisdom face, which doesn’t appear to offer much wisdom on the subject of organics. Deliberata grumbles as he returns focus to his prisoner.

DELIBERATA
Why makes you think we need another source of energon? The mines will provide more energon then we could use in a thousand lifetimes.

STARSCREAM
Are you controlling the mines right now?

The Quintessons all switch to their Angry face. Starscream ceases his struggling to deliver his next flood of convincing.

STARSCREAM
Let me build a large-scale converter for you and you will have more than enough energon to counter any attack against you, without resorting to the WMD. I simply request, for your own sake as well, that you keep me out of the mines and in your ranks. You’ll need me to maintain the converter’s upkeep. Also, when the time comes for your collection and conversion of Cybertron’s crystals, my experience with conversion technology will be most valuable to you.

The Quintessons murmur amongst themselves again, faces switching and tentacles waving in a variety of expressions. Starscream strains to interpret their gestures, leaning closer to the screen only to be yanked back by the seemingly alive defenses. The tentacles unwrap from his legs, then slither menacingly around his wings and start squeezing until the metal buckles and the seams split. Starscream screeches in shock, writhing and gritting his teeth as the squeezing tightens and maddening pain jolts through his entire body.

STARSCREAM
(shrieking)
Why…are you…doing this!?

Just when the excruciating assault to his most sensitive of body parts couldn’t get any worse, the tentacles release him and he drops to his hands and knees. He hangs his head, his ventilations intense as the pain throbs viciously through his wings. No response comes from his attackers, so he lifts a bitter expression to the screen. He instantly wishes he didn’t because the three, with their repulsive pomp, simply watch him with delight.

DELIBERATA
(War face smiling)
Just a demonstration of what we’re capable of. This entire ship is equipped with the same defenses, including the science lab, which from here on out, will be your new home.

Starscream sits back on his heels, body hunched as the pain lingers. He watches the screen go black then vents a sigh worth a lifetime of tense moments. He hangs his head again, optics wide open, processor racing. Treachery was not an easy game. Behind the grin of every previous backstabbing stunt against Megatron, a tiny piece of his spark dimmed, but this time is different; brutally different. This stunt is undeniably the most spark-devouring betrayal of his long, colorfully self-serving history.

IACON - ELITE GUARD HEADQUARTERS - CHROMIA’S ROOM

The winged double-agent sits at the edge of her berth, head buried in one hand, teeth grinding in stress. Shockwave’s familiar flat vocals drum from her comm, reporting the current events.

SHOCKWAVE
…we cannot attempt an escape. They are able to monitor our every move.

CHROMIA
(pinching the bridge of her nose)
And Swindle’s involved you say?

SHOCKWAVE
That is correct. I am surprised he has undertaken such alliances without notifying you of his actions. I thought the two of you shared a bond.

CHROMIA
We were created at the same time by the same slime-of-the-universe aliens, but we never developed any kind of bonds…not to them or each other. Bonding is not in our programming which is why it completely baffles me that he’s working for them again. I wonder if they’re forcing him.

SHOCKWAVE
I doubt it. As I stated, they have remarkably advanced weaponry and he is an amoral weapons dealer. I’m sure he has much to gain.

CHROMIA
(venting a long sigh of frustration)
Where’s Megatron?

SHOCKWAVE
He is…unavailable.

The vague response causes her to tense with worry.

CHROMIA
Wh-- What do you mean by that? Shockwave, please. Is he okay?

SHOCKWAVE
He is functioning…I must end this transmission now, Chromia, I do not want to risk an interception from the Quintessons.

CHROMIA
(desperate)
Shockwave, wait!

SHOCKWAVE
I am relieved to hear you are still one of us. Shockwave out.

The transmission cuts out, fueling the femme’s frustration. She rises up and stomps around her quarters, muttering a string of spark-extinguishing curses, most of it directed at Swindle but some referring to Shockwave’s typically unreadable lack of vocal intonation. She breaks to tap her comm back on and ramps up to resume venting at the bot whom she is calling.

SWINDLE
(answering with predictable and irritating mirth)
Heya doll, what can I do for--

CHROMIA
(fuming)
You depraved piece of Primus-fragged scrap metal!

SWINDLE
(laughing)
Wha-hoa sweetheart, cool your jets. Whattya, lookin’ in a mirror?

CHROMIA
(ignoring his mockery)
How could you let this happen!?

SWINDLE
I couldn’t stop it if I wanted to. The Quints are big now, darling, and I mean big…huge! Only a raving fool would pass up the opportunity to hop on their bandwagon. I was trying to rope you in earlier--

CHROMIA
(insulted)
I would never work for them again! They’re disgusting…degenerates!

SWINDLE
(dripping in sarcasm)
And Megatron is the poster sparkling of nobility.

CHROMIA
(optics widen)
Megatron is a symbol of power and perseverance. He has standards and codes of conduct.

SWINDLE
Spare me your baseless fantasies. If he’s so powerful, why has he pathetically locked himself away in the bowels of the arena?

CHROMIA
You’re lying!

SWINDLE
Quite the contrary. Megatron’s nothing but a burnt out wash-up who, once again, let his pride cloud his judgment. He should’ve handed his leadership to Starscream eons ago. I guarantee had he done so, the fraggin’ ‘cons would be much better off now.

CHROMIA
(pushed to her limits of toleration)
Bite…your tongue…And where do you get off speaking of your alleged faction as if you‘re not apart of them? Does that symbol on your chest mean nothing to you!?

SWINDLE
(bursts into laughter again)
You’re killing me with irony, doll. Have you forgotten that cute little red face attached to your neckpiece?

CHROMIA
That is different and you know it! I joined the Autobots as a means to survive because you left me broke and stranded with Kaon’s pathetic stragglers.

SWINDLE
Awwww, come on now. I thought you forgave me for that.

CHROMIA
(viciously)
Not anymore!…(she takes a few moments to absorb the facts at hand then forces herself to cool down a notch). Where’s Starscream? Have you talked to him? Does he have access to his comm?

SWINDLE
Doubtful. The Quints put him to work right away. Got him shut up in the lab and monitoring his every ventilation. He won’t be making or taking any comm calls soon and besides, what could you possibly have to say to him?

CHROMIA
(clenching her fists)
Oh, I have a few unsavory words selected just for him.

SWINDLE
Face it, Chromia, the ‘cons are history. The Autobots are too. You stick with either of them and you‘ll share their fate.

Her face pinches with insult and worry at what is predictably coming next.

SWINDLE
(best salesman voice)
Join us, doll. You are in a very unique and fortunate situation. Be our double-agent. It’s that or a life of slavery and I know that‘s not your bag. Join us and I guarantee, the squids will be grateful to have you on the bandwagon again.

His words sicken her. She sits back down on the berth, dropping her head into her hands.

CHROMIA
(hopeless)
And then what, Swindle? What happens to us after they take the mines? They don’t need us. They’ve never needed us. We were simply tools. You can’t guarantee our safety. You can’t guarantee scrap!

SWINDLE
(uneasiness starting to break through the charade)
Be-because they love us. You and I are special to ‘em. We got a history. They can’t-- They can’t deny that.

CHROMIA
(unconvinced)
You’re delusional.

SWINDLE
So are you if you think there’s a better option. At least tell me you’ll think about it. In fact, don’t bother…I already know that you are. I know you too well Chromia and I see right through you. Megatron is only a symbol of what you desire. You have no loyalty to him. You simply crave to dangle on the arm of power. Well…here’s your chance, only it’s not an arm, it’s a tentacle. Choice is yours, doll. I don’t need to repeat what’s at stake.

She sits quietly, head still captured in her hands. The thought of Megatron defeated again is too much to bear; too disheartening. A flood of questions rush through her processor. Has she really banked all her hopes on a failure? Has everything she’s worked toward only led her back to her oppressive creators? Why is Swindle so eager to help them? Does he not remember how unfairly the two of them were treated? The memories gouge mercilessly at her dignity, forcing her thoughts, purely out of survival instinct, to shift back to Megatron. He is always her light at the end of the tunnel and she refuses to accept his defeat, especially not to those lousy squids and that notorious snake, Starscream. Megatron wouldn’t go down without a fight. He must be planning something.

SWINDLE
What’s it gonna be, Chromia. I can’t wait around all orbital cycle, I got an arena to run.

CHROMIA
(emotionless)
I’m in…Tell the squids, they just got themselves a double-agent.

SWINDLE
Excellent decision. Wow, doll face, I thought I’d have to break out my big guns to sell you on this. Guess your devotion to the mighty Megatron isn’t so concrete when he’s not so mighty--

CHROMIA
(scowls in nausea)
Frag off!

She closes the frequency and mutters her annoyance.

CHROMIA
Stupid son-of-a-glitch.

After a couple self assuring ventilations, she rises from the berth, tapping a new frequency into her comm.

CHROMIA
Sentinel Magnus, when is Optimus Prime’s team due to arrive?

SENTINEL
Within the mega-cycle. Would you like to join me in greeting them at the space bridge?

CHROMIA
Yes sir, very much so.

EARTH - SUMDAC TOWER - SPACE BRIDGE

Team Rodimus, not easily disheartened and eager to continue the hunt for the Decepticons, returned to Cybertron immediately after the failed mission. Optimus promised his fellow prime that he would follow suit, but that he needed a day to discuss it with his team. He wasn’t sure if they would vote in favor of leaving Prowl behind; he himself was hardly willing to make such a decision, but all his Autobots, with very little coaxing, understood the responsibility of their Autobot duty. The majority of them concluded it was exactly what Prowl, the real Prowl, would want them to do. There was only one Autobot who didn’t agree with this course of action.

Optimus Prime stands with what remains of his team on the space bridge platform. He looks down upon the teenage girl, who’s standing with her father. Her tearful glare of disappointment stabs his spark, but he knows what he needs to do and only hopes she will eventually understand.

SARI
How can you do this, Prime!? Don’t you even care about Prowl? He needs us! We need to find him!

OPTIMUS PRIME
(trying to talk in his ‘leader‘ tone of voice)
He doesn’t want to be found, Sari. We’ve been over this.

Bumblebee looks regretfully down to the girl, spark aching at the idea of separating from her.

BUMBLEBEE
He’s right, Sari. And if Prowl doesn’t want to be found, there’s no way we’re gonna find him, what with his stealthy ninja--

SARI
(shouting in protest)
We gotta at least try!

Professor Sumdac attempts to console his anguished daughter but she jerks away from the loving reach.

OPTIMUS PRIME
(voice softening)
Once we’ve captured the Decepticons, I promise to do everything in my power to get Prowl back…(he pauses, ready to second guess his decision to leave then quickly stifles the urge and regains his stern tone) But Cybertron needs us now. The odd disturbances and energy readings coming from Kaon are too big to ignore. If the ‘cons have already mobilized for an attack, I want to be there to take them down.

SARI
(not convinced)
But…(speaking with flailing arm gestures) they have the entire freaking army to handle that! What difference are you four gonna make!?

Her uncharacteristic pessimism slaps the medibot with surprise and irritation.

RATCHET
(snapping at Sari)
The same difference a single cyber ninja made against a siege of Omega Supreme clones!

The other Autobots wince at the painful memory. Sari drops her head, unable to contain her sobs of frustration. Her tears stream through the fingers clasped over her eyes and Ratchet instantly regrets his harsh tone.

BULKHEAD
(chiming in with his ever-gentle way)
I think what Ratchet meant to say is, we’re doing exactly what Prowl…er, the Prowl I know, would want us to do.

RATCHET
(softening his voice)
Exactly. Listen, kid, my point…and I know you of all Autobots know this…

She raises her head at the mention of being considered an Autobot. She can barely see through her cloudy tears the medibot’s genuine expression, but she can hear it in his voice.

RATCHET
(continuing)
…is how much difference a single spark can make.

Jazz places a reaffirming hand on Ratchet’s shoulder and joins in the efforts to console the girl.

JAZZ
Ol’ bot’s right ya know. Every spark counts, including yours. Now, if you’re not gonna groove with us to the Cybs, then I suggest you, the prof, the DPD and any other cat that respect‘s Prowl‘s vibe, start scanning the city for his mixed up self. My bro’s smooth and he won‘t be easy to find, but he’s frettin’ with some bad tunes and it’s no doubt hinderin’ his cyber ninja gig.

Sari shakes her head questionably.

SARI
I-- I don’t understand.

OPTIMUS PRIME
He’s saying Prowl won’t be able to keep a steady mask on his energy signal, which means, the second you detect it, it’s up to you to track him.

Sentinel’s voice cuts in through Optimus’ comm.

SENTINEL
Optimus. You and your team ready?

OPTIMUS
(into comm.)
Yes, Sentinel Magnus. Just give us a couple cycles. (he pauses the call and focuses back down to Sari) I care about Prowl as much as you do, Sari and I promise you, when all this is over, and if you haven’t yet found him, I will return and together, we will bring him home.

The primes words finally show signs of sinking into the girl.

BUMBLEBEE
(chiming in with his undying optimism)
But you won’t need to bossbot, because she’ll have done the job. When we get back, I expect to see the two of them veggin’ on the couch, watchin’ nature shows and talkin’ smack about how bad I suck at that right-hand-on-yellow, left-foot-on-blue game.

Sari can’t help giggle at the image and how wonderful it would be if she could make it happen. She never considered searching for Prowl on her own because she expected Optimus would shoot down such a suggestion. The girl is pleased to be proven wrong and fills with a renewed confidence. She blinks away some tears and looks gratefully upon her towering teammates, stopping her gaze upon the little yellow ray of sunshine that is her best friend.

SARI
(smiling though tears)
You guys be careful, okay. I expect regular updates and nobody better even think about sacrificing their spark this time, not without talking to me first.

BULKHEAD
(surprised and confused)
You’d…let one of us give up our spark?

SARI
No, silly! I would scream and yell the idea right outta your thick processor!

BULKHEAD
(relieved)
Oh, okay. That makes sense.

Optimus Prime smiles as he signals Professor Sumdac to start up the space bridge. It never ceases to amaze him how tight the bonds are between his team and he’s reminded once again how lucky he his to have them. His spark fills with hope; a taunting hope, one he’s afraid to acknowledge because it sings of the same hope he felt when a ghostly cyber ninja form pulled him from the devastating blast of the final Omega Clone. His empowered mood downshifts a gear, leaving him introspective. The image that appears in his mind isn’t the ghostly blue visage of his savior however, it’s only a piece of it; a piece clearly distinguishable, with its vivid black and gold designs, as a past hero‘s helmet.

Epic update well done. How you manage all the different story arcs is nothing short of astounding!

This is getting intense!
I can't wait for Optimus' team to come to Cybertron! This is building up to something crazy! Autobots and 'Cons fighting against Starscream, Quintesson, Swindle and Chromia! I can't wait for next update!

A/N: Strangely enough, this chapter gave my beta readers a strong aversion to Swindle and the Quintessons. =P

Time measurements:

cycle - minute
mega cycle - hour
solar cycle - day


QUINTESSON WARSHIP - LABORATORY

Starscream is seated at the lab table, laying face down in desperately-needed recharge. His arms have been stripped of the null ray cannons and his wings are wrapped tightly in electrified cables. There’s an impressive machine behind him, bearing similar qualities to the original energon converter, but scaled up considerably in size.

Brinn, the scientifically inclined Quintesson, bursts into the room sporting his Anger face. He expects the sound of the door to snap the seeker out of his stasis, but Starscream doesn’t budge. Brinn grabs the edges of the table with two of his many tentacles and shakes it violently.

BRINN
Wake up, slave!

Starscream groans and slowly lifts his head up in irritation. The sight of a blurry Brinn at the other end of the table quickly reminds the seeker of his reality and he drops his head back down, burying it in his arms.

BRINN
(switching to War face)
What is the meaning of this? We did not give you permission to take a break!

STARSCREAM
(voice muffled, head still buried)
I’ve done all I can do with the supplies on hand…unless you can pull an All Spark fragment out of your aft, my work cannot proceed.

BRINN
(optics blazing)
Mind your mouth, worm…(switches to Judgment face) We have access to pieces of the All Spark.

Starscream peeks up with surprise.

STARSCREAM
You...you do?

Brinn relaxes with a ugly grin and glides across the room to inspect the machine.

BRINN
Of course. Swindle is quite the resource. I’ll have him bring you a shard right away.

Starscream sits up, now fully attentive and trying to mask his uneasiness. He glances over his shoulder, keeping an optic on the alien behind him.

STARSCREAM
(processor kicking up a notch)
But I need more than just a shard. I need organic material to run the preliminary tests…We need to send a cruiser to Archa Seven and collect--

BRINN
(interrupting)
We are not going anywhere…(glides back to the table, breaching Starscream‘s comfort zone with an attempt at intimidation) How much organic material do you need for these tests?

STARSCREAM
(leaning away from the creature)
Um…a considerable amount. And you don’t have to go anywhere, I’ll travel to--

BRINN
(grabs the seeker‘s chin with a firm tentacle)
You are not going anywhere either! (smiles deviously) We have a small supply of organic material below, in the arena.

Starscream cringes in disgust as the tentacle remains wrapped tightly on his chin and Brinn pulls uncomfortably closer.

STARSCREAM
(wincing)
What kind? What planet is it from?

BRINN
(enjoying the seeker’s discomfort)
This one…and Earth.

Starscream’s optics widen as the image of his predacon partner comes to mind. He’s about to speak out in protest but Brinn cuts him off.

BRINN
(basking in the seeker’s uneasy state)
I hope Swindle isn’t too attached to his freak-of-a-prize fighter. (does the Quintesson equivalent of a shoulder shrug) I’m sure he’ll find a suitable replacement.

The pompous alien releases Starscream’s face and drifts away toward the door. The seeker is relieved to be spared of any more fondling but remains uneasy at the thought using that poor stupid ‘Wasp’ creature as a guinea pig.

STARSCREAM
(growing nauseous)
You want me to use a living being as test material?

BRINN
(activating his comm)
Swindle, come in.

Brinn opens the door but turns to say some parting commands to the seeker.

BRINN
You’ll have a mega-cycle at the most to finish your recharge before I return with the shard and the freak, but do not let me catch you recharging without permission again. Time is valuable, slave, and your time belongs to us now, (switches to Death face) so I suggest you make the most of it.

The door slams shut and the auto locks click loudly into place. Starscream drops his head back onto the table, too exhausted in the moment to do anything but take his captor’s advice.

Brinn continues down the hallway, switching back to Anger and awaiting the dealer’s response impatiently.

BRINN
(shouting into comm)
Answer me, slave!

SWINDLE
(surprisingly non-salesman tone of voice)
Come on now, no need for name calling.

BRINN
Silence! I have a task for you and I want it completed immediately.

SWINDLE
(with a sigh a dropped pitch of voice)
Name it.

BRINN
Bring your bugbot to the arena floor.

SWINDLE
(skeptical)
What for?

BRINN
Do not…question me. (relaxing a notch, switching to Wisdom) Just bring the predacon within range of our transport beam.

SWINDLE
(pauses a scheming moment, then responds with sheer insincerity)
Predacon…gotcha. Anything else?

BRINN
Yes…We need one of your All Spark fragments.

KAON - GLADIATORIAL ARENA - VIP BOOTH

SWINDLE
(into comm with sarcasm)
Oh, is that all? What makes you so sure I have any?

Brinn doesn’t respond. All Swindle can here is abrupt face switching, which clearly answers the dealer’s question.

SWINDLE
Alright, alright…relax, I’ll get it to ya…just gimme a mega-cycle or two on that one.

He closes the call and grumbles in annoyance as he exits the room.

SWINDLE
(muttering to himself)
Slaggin’ squids. Might as well just hand ‘em my spark on a silver platter with my dignity as a bonus gift; all guaranteed with a lifetime warranty and personalized message reading, “shove your tentacles up your glowing afts and get the frag off my planet”.

He makes his way down the hall, following the echoing mumbles coming from the concession station. As he rounds the corner, a Decepticon gathering comes into view.

Lugnut, Icy Blitzwing and Blackarachnia are loitering around, raiding the concession stand of its energon goodies. Swindle didn’t expect his presence to be welcomed by the bitter group, but he puts on his best grin regardless and gingerly approaches them.

Blitzwing is the first to see him and predictably switches to Hothead. He hops off the counter and hurls his box of snacks at the dealer. Swindle attempts to dodge the attack but inevitably takes a few goodies to the face and accepts it with necessary humility. The triple changer, only just warming up to his intended assault, dives into tank mode and revs his engines menacingly.

HOTHEAD BLITZWING
You dirty double-crozzer! I vill flaten zat grin under my treads zen do it again until it iz a frown (switching to Random)…and zen I vill hang you upzide down so you are zmiling again. You know vhat zey zay, turn zat frown upzide--

BLACKARACHNIA
(snapping at the triple-changer)
Blitzwing, heel!…Let’s at least hear him out.

HOTHEAD BLITZWING
Vhy should vee?

Lugnut forcefully grips the tank’s gun barrel and wrenches his comrade to point away from the dealer.

LUGNUT
Because you fool, the warship backing him up will flatten you into a history lesson.

Blitzwing pops into robot mode, Icy face whirring into place.

ICY BLITZWING
Oh.

SWINDLE
(relaxing now that the hostilities have died down)
Why Blackarachnia, I’m flattered you’ve changed your tune toward me.

The predacon scowls as she tosses the dealer a pink glowing nugget.

BLACKARACHNIA
(not quite sincere)
Have a goodie…I owe ya that much.

Swindle strolls up to her and hops up next to her on the counter, tossing the snack into his permanent gaping smile.

SWINDLE
Nonsense sweetheart, we’re even. You took my All Spark shard, my employers took your freedom.

BLACKARACHNIA
It’s your freedom too ya know.

SWINDLE
(shrugging indifferently)
They’re my creators. What’s a mech gonna do?

LUGNUT
(shoves a threatening claw into the dealer’s chest)
You should be serving Megatron as long as you wear that symbol.

SWINDLE
(slightly intimidated)
See, the problem with that is…Quints got the power and Megatron…well, where is he right now?

LUGNUT
(confidently)
Megatron will return!

HOTHEAD BLITZWING
(getting in Lugnut’s face)
Can it, you broken frequenzy! Our leader haz abandoned uz!

LUGNUT
(rising to the challenge)
No, you are wrong!

The hulking mech slams Blitzwing into the wall, his claws pinching the triple changer’s neck.

LUGNUT
Take back what you said, infidel. (he leans in closer, all five optics blazing) Now! Before I make you eat your words.

RANDOM BLITZWING
(blissfully condescending)
Ooohh-he-he-he, I’m not zure I’m ready to take our relationship to zis level yet.

Lugnut roars and throws the jokester across the seating area, then promptly stomps after him, huffing and growling. Blackarachnia can only shake her head in embarrassment as she watches them through splayed claws.

SWINDLE
(not missing a beat)
‘Cons are coming undone, sweetheart…loyalty to faction is a thing of the past.

BLACKARACHNIA
(still uninterested)
And…here comes the sales pitch.

SWINDLE

(lightly elbows the femme)
Take a walk with me, doll. (gestures to the wrestling mechs) These two obviously need some alone time.

Blackarachnia wouldn’t normally consider giving this traitor the time of day, but considering the possible grudge he has against her, she figures it best, for her own safety, to do what he says. They slide down off the counter and stroll toward the stadium seating.

BLACKARACHNIA
(looks on him with a mix of revulsion and pity)
How long have you been working for them?

SWINDLE
(surprisingly sincere)
Not long actually. (waves his hand out as if presenting the surrounding architecture) I had every intention of running this joint on my own…then they just showed up. (shrugs with attempted innocence) Didn’t gimme much choice in the matter.

They meander down the steps, slowly passing each row of seats. Blackarachnia beholds the arena grounds, noting the burnt ground where the Death’s Head carcass used to be. The Quintessons had it hauled to the salvage yard where it has no doubt been picked cleaned by the vultures populating the city. Her spark sinks for the bounty hunter and she can only hope he escaped safely and has the merit to report the invasion to the Autobots. Her spark sinks even more at the sight of the crushed energon converter, still sitting next to Megatron’s swords, which no one has dared even go near. The declarative symbol is not an open invitation to any ol’mech who feels brave or stupid enough to take on the former gladiator. It is explicitly intended for a single, defining dual with a notoriously unpredictable traitor; an image that sends a shudder through the spider’s body.

The dealer grows quickly bored by the femme’s introspective silence.

SWINDLE
(apathetic)
What’s your story? You full-sparked Decepticon now or woulda go back to the Autobots if given the chance?

BLACKARACHNIA
(speaking softly after an annoyed pause)
I’d rather not discuss that with you. (promptly changing subjects) Have you talked to…Starscream?

SWINDLE
(answering truthfully)
I haven’t yet, but I’ve been meaning to. They’re working him pretty hard…makin’ him earn his keep.

BLACKARACHNIA
(with a deep scowl)
That snake…I can’t believe he’s actually helping them. (lifts her head to give the dealer a stern look) Will you deliver a message for me?

They reach the ground level and Swindle stops to tap on his comm link.

SWINDLE
Tell ya what, doll. (lowers his voice into his comm) Gotcher pred here. (switches his attention back to her with an unreadable grin.) You can deliver it yourself.

Before she can comprehend what he means, Swindle slaps a pair of stasis cuffs on her and a large beam emerges from the sky, engulfing her.

BLACKARACHNIA
(screaming in shock)
NO! Please…

Her pleading shrieks trail off as she dematerializes and is pulled up to the ghost ship.

QUINTESSON WARSHIP

Blackarachnia phases into the same room they initially held Starscream in, but the ship’s tentacled defenses don’t entangle her. She’s already partially immobilized by the stasis cuffs. With a painful groan, she collapses down onto her knees, head hung weakly in phasing awareness. Brinn enters the room within the cycle and immediately becomes furious at the sight of her.

BRINN
(opening a comm call and switching to Anger face)
This is not the creature I asked you for.

SWINDLE
(playing innocent)
You said predacon.

BRINN
The bug, not the femme!

SWINDLE
She is a bug…well, technically an arachnid--

BRINN
Silence you incompetent whelp!…Is she organic?

SWINDLE
Partly…(relenting to a little stretch of truth) Actually more so than my prize fighter. I believe her chassis is--

BRINN
Enough!…You are walking a fine line--

Deliberata intervenes on their call.

DELIBERATA
Brinn, we detected an All Spark fragment hidden on the predacon.

SWINDLE
(optimistic)
See, it all worked out--

Both Quintessons tell the dealer in unison --and quite rudely-- to quiet down.

DELIBERATA
Swindle, your failure to explicitly follow orders will be excused just this once. Any more attempts of duplicity and you will find yourself in chains and wielding a miner‘s pick…(his spreading smile can practically be heard) I guarantee it.

After an awkward silence, Swindle cuts his frequency without uttering a word; a very un-Swindle-like thing to do.

DELIBERATA
(dismissive of the dealer)
Brinn, deliver the creature and the shard to our slave.

BRINN
But Master, her presence may invoke some hostility and the lab is not equipped with--

DELIBERATA
(interrupting)
Our defenses are more than adequate! (Brinn hears the sound of a face switch) Your cowardice disappoints me, Brinn…Perhaps I should send Sevax to do the job for you.

BRINN
(Anger face lit hotly)
You will do no such thing! (taking a moment to cool down but still keeping the Anger face) I will take care of it. Brinn out.

The Quintesson takes a moment to regain his composure and switches to his Judgment face, figuring it a nice balance between intimidating and controlled. He wraps a couple tentacles around the predacon’s arms, pulling her to her feet and dragging her toward the door.

She gradually comes to as they travel down the corridor, and she beholds the alien surroundings with a growing fear. They approach the lab and the door whizzes open; the noise of their arrival pulls Starscream from his recharge. The seeker’s optics, barely online, brighten in shock when he sees the alien’s captive is a not a green blur but instead a black and purple one.

BRINN
Here is your requested materials.

Brinn releases the femme, letting her drop to a heap on the floor.

STARSCREAM
(jumps from his chair with heated protest)
This is not the predacon I asked for!

BRINN
(Angry faced triggered)
You will work with what we give you!

Brinn curses himself for losing his temper so quickly then regains his Judgment face. He peers down at the femme and slithers a tentacle up her leg. Starscream advances with wavering valiance upon seeing this. The tentacle stops at her side pouch, flipping the top open and retrieving her stowed All Spark fragment. Brinn abruptly tosses the shard to Starscream who was about to attack but halted when forced to catch the item.

BLACKARACHNIA
(aware but very weak)
How…did you know that was…

Brinn returns his tentacle to the femme, lifting her chin as a couple more tentacles creep onto her thighs and hips.

BRINN
(condescending)
We have these cute little toys called ‘trackers’.

Starscream launches his foot into the alien, kicking him through the doorway into the hall then slamming the ‘close’ button with his enraged fist. The swishing doors cut off the Quintesson’s revolted curses and Starscream immediately shifts his attention to the ceiling anticipating an attack from the ship’s defenses. He’s instead attacked from the ground as Blackarachnia kicks his feet out from under him, sending him crashing to the floor, practically on top of her. Her anger fuels her ability to shift into a kneeling attack stance and impale him with her stingers. Starscream shrieks as his body surges with electrical venom. Her upper arms immediately grow a set of null ray cannons and she proceeds to use her newfound, but temporary power, to blast the stasis cuffs off her.

Starscream comes to a moment later to find the barrel of his own weapon pointed directly at his face. His optics trail up the weapon, past a spiked shoulder then onto the inevitable fanged scowl that awaits him. He should be contemplating how deserving he is of the seething hatred bearing down upon him, but he’s instead distracted by the lack of tentacles streaming out from the ceiling.

BLACKARACHNIA
(with a deep, raspy growl)
You…pathetic…piece of back-stabbing…bottom-feeding…

STARSCREAM
(wide optics still focused on the ceiling)
Shhh!

Her jaw drops in disbelief, her four optics fluttering in rage.

BLACKARACHNIA
Exc-- Excuse me? You dare shush--

She’s so overwhelmed with maddening insult, the disappearance of her borrowed power goes unnoticed.

Starscream leaps up, walking straight past her and jumping upon the table to study the ceiling curiously. To his surprise and ultimate relief, he notices there are no panels for obnoxious little tentacles to come streaming out of. He smiles, his first instinct to share the news with the only other occupant of the room, but quickly finds his upper body constricted by a silken rope. He loses his balance and tumbles back down to the floor.

She huffs up to him, ventilating furiously and hunching over him. Her stingers lurch forward, merely a twitch away from his spark chamber. Starscream’s pleasure at his new discovery fades quickly as the reality of her emotional state becomes clear.

STARSCREAM
(going out on a limb)
You…need to calm down.

BLACKARACHNIA
(still growling)
That’s a lot to ask.

STARSCREAM
(quick with reason)
If they catch you attacking me, you’re slagged.

BLACKARACHNIA
They can slag me ten times over as long as I get to slag you first.

STARSCREAM
That is not wise. They are evil and unpredictable.

BLACKARACHNIA
(shouting)
So are you!

Starscream’s distracted by the static humming in on the monitor and quickly jerks his body to knock into her legs and throw her balance off. He breaks free from the web then grabs her from behind, pinning her arms down and holding her flush against his chest. She struggles and growls in protest but his strength is to much and she’s unable to wriggle from his grasp. Two of the three Quintessons appear on the screen with a mix of Anger and War faces, Brinn of the verge of his Death face.

DELIBERATA
(interrogative)
Explain your attack against Brinn! And why is your constituent not wearing her stasis cuffs?

Starscream tries to focus on the screen as he being jerked around by the spiderbot’s struggles.

STARSCREAM
(processor kicking into high gear)
He was upsetting her!…And I need her calm for the experiment to work.

BLACKARACHNIA
(hollering)
Let go of me you filth!

DELIBERATA
(skeptical)
That is not calm.

STARSCREAM
(with suppressed scheming)
Can you restrain her with the lab’s defenses?

The three quietly grumble at this request, shifting uneasily before responding.

DELIBERATA
We don’t wish to expend our resources on your problem. You claim to be the expert on organics so find the solution on your own.

The screen goes blank.

Blackarachnia continues to struggle but her energon levels are quickly dropping due to the recent drain from the stasis cuffs. Starscream’s chassis aches from exhaustion and the lingering effects of her sting, but somehow he finds enough strength to keep her constricted. Her growls turn to whimpers and she finally gives up and goes limp in his grasp.

BLACKARACHNIA
(dropping her head in defeat)
You’re going to turn me into energon, aren’t you.

STARSCREAM
(whispering gently)
Of course not.

Starscream’s fatigue catches up to him and he slumps down to his knees, pulling her with him to the floor. He loosens his grip but his arms are still wrapped around her. He vents a gust of regret and leans his forehead into the side of her helm.

STARSCREAM
This is not what I intended.

She squirms out of his hold and scoots away from him, looking him over with disgust.

BLACKARACHNIA
Don’t you dare touch me…and don‘t expect me to believe a single word out of that mutinous mouth.

Starscream doesn’t respond or make eye contact; he simply keeps his head hung. He can feel her venomous optics looking him over apathetically. He’s not expecting sympathy but a little conversation would be a welcome break to the longest, most regretfully unplanned two solar-cycles of his functioning. He peeks up curiously at her, holding his weapon-stripped arms out.

STARSCREAM
(slightly impressed)
How did you upload my null ray power?

She looks over the exposed circuitry on his upper arms and eases down a notch, almost feeling sorry for him--but not quite.

BLACKARCHNIA
(bitterly)
My power feeds off your programming, genius, not the weapons themselves.

Genius: he loves that title, even when spoken sarcastically.

STARSCREAM
(with a small smirk and brief optic contact)
Yet another perk. Your powers never cease to impress me.

Uninterested in his attempted civility, she shifts her attention to the newly-constructed and infuriatingly familiar machine behind him.

BLACKARACHNIA
Is that the converter?

STARSCREAM
(smirk fading away)
Yes.

BLACKARACHNIA
(pauses to shake her head in disgust)
How could you do this?

He lifts his head just enough to meet her optics but decides against trying to explain himself. It would be a waste of energon to try to convince her of anything now and he needs his energon to make some unexpected alterations to the machine. He searches the room for the All Spark fragment and spies it near the door. It takes all his strength to rise to his feet and retrieve the shard. The predacon doesn’t shift from her slump on the floor and simply watches him, repulsion blazing through her optics. He grabs a set of tools off the table and drudges over to the machine, his back turned to her. He opens a panel revealing a complex mesh of circuitry and goes to work embedding the shard into its place

KAON - GLADITORIAL ARENA - LOWER LEVEL

The lower level of the arena is designated specifically for the fighters. There are training rooms with a wide array of equipment and melee weapons, smaller rooms for taking breaks and receiving medical treatment, and…the champion’s room. It is as large as the largest training room and filled with the remnants of what were once regal luxuries: top of the line weapons (now antiques), energon cube casings that used to be filled with the finest high grade and, lastly, the trophy wall. This wall used to be decorated with the decapitated heads of defeated opponents, but Kaon’s desperate population picked it clean long ago and now only scattered pieces of scrap metal remain. This room is dark and quiet, with a massive lock on the door, to keep out the unwanted attention of past fanatics, but at the moment, it’s only keeping out a single purple intelbot, who’s been seated patiently outside the door for two solar-cycles.

At first glance inside the champion’s room, it would appear unoccupied, but Shockwave knows it isn’t. At just the right time of night, the star closest to Cybertron will shine its light through the single window and into a corner of the room, revealing the slumped but impressive form of an infamous champion. There’s a small pool of energon on the ground, beneath the champion’s leg, and reflected in that pool is a pair of intensely vibrant and carefully scheming red optics.

A/N: I refuse to make my three readers wait a week to see what the Autobots are doing during the ensuing madness.

IACON - ELITE GUARD HEADQUARTERS - SPACE BRIDGE

Sentinel Magnus and Chromia watch as Optimus Prime’s team materializes on the warp platform. Once the transwarp energy’s sound and light show dies down, Sentinel approaches the platform and reaches his hand out to Optimus. The handshake is about as stiff and by-the-book as they come. Sentinel would rather be slagged than lose his pompous heir, but Optimus can sense an uneasiness is his old comrade. The Autobots step down from the platform and greet their Magnus with a salute.

SENTINEL
At ease gentle bots. (turns to the femme) Chromia, scan them for any organic contaminates.

Chromia complies with a ‘Yes sir’ then approaches Bulkhead. Starting at his feet, she hovers a device over him and starts her scan. The device reacts to the paint splotches on his legs, causing her to look up at him with question.

BULKHEAD
Don‘t worry…that stuff’s harmless. It’s fer…you know, paintin’ pictures ‘n stuff.

BUMBLEBEE
(chiming in)
Personally, I prefer filling those rubbery, stretchy, colorful things with it. The humans usually fill them with water, but--

The yellow bot cuts himself off when Sentinal, Optimus and Ratchet all fire him the ‘now’s not the appropriate time’ look.

SENTINEL
As you know, we’ve detected some strange readings in Kaon. The energy signature matches that of a cloaked ship, which leads us to believe the Decepticons are hiding out there.

OPTIMUS PRIME
You said Swindle has reopened the Gladiatorial Arena?

SENTINEL
That is correct. We caught one of our own, the veteran Brawn, voluntarily participating in the fights. (Sentinel shakes his head in disappointment). We believe him to be the spy that aided in the ‘cons’ prison break.

Chromia tenses as she starts her scan on Ratchet, who watches her every move with a quirked brow and classic scowl.

RATCHET
(directed at Sentinel)
What proof do you have of his involvement? I’ve known Brawn for a long time and betrayal is not in his programming.

SENTINEL
(slightly miffed by the old bot’s doubt)
Not that I need to explain myself to you, but we have proof that--

Chromia straightens up with a salute.

CHROMIA
(interrupting)
Sir, permission to speak. There have been rumors about a Quintess--

SENTINEL
(snapping at the femme)
I don’t recall giving you permission to speak!

Chromia bits her lower lip in annoyance and strains to withhold her nervous frustration. She continues the scan on Ratchet.

SENTINEL
Back on topic…What was I talking about?

CHROMIA
(flat)
Kaon.

SENTINEL
Right! We intend to send a team of cyber ninjas on a recon mission to Kaon. Jazz, despite your insubordination as of late…I’d like you to lead it. Warpath has been training a new batch of recruits in Metallikato and I think you’ll find them adequately fit for the task.

JAZZ
(slightly flattered)
Right on, SP, I mean…Yessir.

SENTINEL
(to Optimus)
Have you located your missing comrade? We could certainly use his help on that mission…if he’s feeling up for it that is.

Sentinel’s dry ignorance pulls a wince from everyone but Chromia, who discretely lowers her head into her task.

OPTIMUS PRIME
(solemnly)
No, sir. We…left him back on Earth…in the humans’ care.

SENTINEL
(raising a brow)
Hmph! And you call me inconsiderate.

Everyone tenses in insult and Chromia shakes her head, flashing Sentinel a ‘good one, slick’ expression.

BUMBLEBEE
(unable to keep quiet, as usual)
What about the rest of us, sir? What do you want us to do?

Sentinel gestures for the group to follow him. Everyone leaves the room and heads down the corridor, the primes leading the pack. Sentinel attempts to convince the group, with his rambling of political fluff, that he has a solid plan. Ratchet trails behind the group, still wearing his scowl. He skeptically eyeballs the femme in front him then taps his thick finger on her shoulder.

RATCHET
May I have a word with you?

She eases up her pace and falls back to walk alongside him, feigning an innocent curiosity.

CHROMIA
Of course.

RATCHET
What do you know of Quintessons? What rumors were you talking about back there?

The femme is pleased to have sparked someone’s attention on the subject, but puts her processor into high gear about how to warn of the threat without revealing herself.

CHROMIA
Umm…well…I talked to Brawn…before they arrested him. And uh…he said Swindle might be in bed with the Quints.

RATCHET
I’ve heard rumors that you used to work for them.

She curses internally, ready to rip Sentinel’s face off for his inability to keep a secret.

CHROMIA
That was…(drops her head in shame) a long time ago, before I joined the academy.

Ratchet feels no sympathy.

CHROMIA
(continuing)
I use to work at the arena, during the war, when the Quints ran it…(looks back up to him). That is why I believe the rumors of their current involvement with it.

RATCHET
(softening up a little)
Suppose that would make sense. Have you shared this information with Sentinel.

CHROMIA
(rolling her optics)
Trust me, Ratchet, I’m trying.

Ratchet can sympathize a little with her frustration there, but hardens up again when he thinks about what he recently witnessed her doing to Prowl.

RATCHET
(with a shifting of his ventilations)
For medical purposes…I wanna know more about this, Spark Reading thing, specifically, I wanna know exactly what you did to Prowl…(twists his neck to invoke a -pop-) for medical reasons.

CHROMIA
(suppressing some tension)
Medical reasons, yeah.

She plays back the events in her mind, scanning over every detail of the encounter and settling on the fact that their Spark Reading session was totally harmless. Prowl didn’t even flinch with hostility until she unleashed her wings on him and directed him too attack. She relaxes in assurance, realizing this old bot would be easy to play, especially since he, and every other Autobot is absolutely clueless about her special powers.

CHROMIA
As you’re aware, Spark Reading isn’t the most reliable of psychoanalytical techniques. The methods most bots use are quite crude; a total bastardization of the true technique used by the ancients.

RATCHET
Yes, I’m well aware the young bot’s have ulterior motives besides what it‘s actually designed to do.

CHROMIA
(half smiles at his implication)
Yeah…I won’t deny my appeal to it…for that reason, but I will brag that I took it further than most bots. I learned more about it than your average peacenik did and actually became rather good at it.

RATCHET
(still skeptical)
Didja now…then ya mind cutting to the chase and telling’ me what ya did to our ninjabot?

CHROMIA
(confident)
I did exactly what he asked me to, which was analyze his human component…only instead of finding the…imposter, I only found Prowl‘s deep-seated bitterness at the Autobot faction. When I confronted him on this…we got into an argument.

The medibot freezes a moment then turns to grab her firmly by the upper arms.

RATCHET
Why didn’t you mention this before?

She beholds him with guiltily beaming, accepting his harsh reaction with humility.

CHROMIA
(dropping her head)
Because I was ashamed…I said something I shouldn’t have…about the Council…and the Hall of--

RATCHET
(optics lit with anger as he lightly shakes her)
Of all the dimwitted, ram-damaged…(releases her and pinches the bridge of his nose) Gaahh, how could you…?

CHROMIA
(with a defensive outburst)
Because he had a right to know!

Her volume catches the attention of Bulkhead and Bumblebee, causing them to glance curiously over their shoulders.

CHROMIA
(lowering her voice and gesturing to the bots in front of her)
You all…hid the truth from him. Someone had to say it. I never would have said anything had I known..(looks away in shame) Had I know he’d desert you. (looks back up to medic, optics fluttering). But someone had to tell him.

Ratchet loses his scowl and hangs his head, processor drudging over the raw details just given him.

Chromia carefully analyzes his behavior, looking him over with a raised brow, then gaining empowerment by the clear signs of a bot who’s been successfully played.

RATCHET
(after a thoughtful pause)
I won’t say you did the right thing, kid…but I will say I wouldn’t have done it any differently in your situation.

CHROMIA
(with a smirk)
Is that so?…Interesting.

RATCHET
(quickly catching himself)
I mean!…if the subject were to come up…not if I was…dahh, you know what I mean. (under his breath) Sheesh…can’t say a word these days without someone implying somethin’ kinky.

EARTH - SUMDAC TOWER ROOF

A teenage techno-organic sits with her chin planted on her palms and face awash in hopelessness. She had been diligently running energy scans all day in hope to catch Prowl’s predicted slip up, but has yet to detect a trace of him. She hums out a long sigh and is about to give up hope when an idea strikes her like the cliché light bulb over her head. She snatches her comm radio from her hip and taps a frequency into it.

CYBERTRON - HIGHWAY CONNECTING IACON TO KAON

A sleek, earth-model bike cruises down the dilapidated highway. Kaon is a fair distance behind it, shrinking to passing though in the rearview mirror. The bike has no interest in that city and steered clear from it immediately after Starscream aided in his escape from the Death’s Head. Prowl’s focus is on the city life of Iacon, a reality offering the simple life of a single bot who only need depend on himself. His processor attempts to drift into the possibilities awaiting him there, but instead it’s disrupted by a call coming through his comm. The signal is so faint, he can’t trace its origin. He wonders if Starscream is contacting him again, only doing so with a masked signal for fear the other Decepticons may be tracing his call.

PROWL
This is Prowl.

SARI
Prowl!?

The ninja hears a gasp of disbelief. The seeker’s voice is certainly high pitched, but this clearly is not Starscream.

PROWL
(offended)
Sari! I thought I made it very clear I did not want anyone contacti--

SARI
(interrupting temperamentally)
I don’t give a scrap what you ‘made clear‘! Your processor is all messed up and you need to come home right now!

PROWL
(irritated at the guilt forming on his spark)
I cannot do that…I am sorry, but I request you leave me alone. I am cutting of the freq--

SARI
No, you are not! Now, where the spark are you? Either you tell me or I’ll trace it.

PROWL
I’m closing the call now, Sari. Goodbye.

EARTH - SUMDAC TOWER

Sari leaps up and stomps around angrily.

SARI
How dare he!? What’s his problem?

She dashes to the computer and frantically taps in some commands, her optics locked on the monitor with expectation. Finally the results of the trace appear after an unusually long processing time. Her jaw drops, eyes popped.

SARI
Cybertron!

The girl springs over to the space bridge controls and pinches her eyes shut as she focuses on whatever it is that guides her mechanical fingertips to work their magic on the console. Just as predicted, her hands transform with a little beeping tune and her tiny circuited fingers go to work on the keypad. Within moments, the transwarp pad glows of blue crackling energy and, without a second thought, she hops onto the warp pad and prepares for her journey with nothing but driving hope.

CYBERTRON - BLASTER & VIBES NEWLY OPENED NIGHTCLUB

The dim lit club bustles with activity. All the patrons, with their animated conversations and colorful drinks, appear to be thoroughly enjoying themselves--all but one patron. He’s the only one by himself and, occupying a large plush booth that the group next to him envy as they’re stuck crowding around a two-bot table. The loner is a pathetic spectacle, his mostly green and black body doubled over, his hook wrapped around a near-empty glass, and his tattooed face flattened against the table.

Vibes spies her customer’s inappropriately low class behavior and decides it’s time for her to intervene. She strolls up to his booth, planting a firm hand on her hip.

VIBES
You be cut off now. No more. I cannot allow you to taint the standards of decency I have set in dis place.

Lockdown only grumbles miserably in response. Vibes instantly picks up on his despair and softens her approach a bit.

VIBES
What is your problem? You normally more vertical dan dis.

Another grumble, only more drawn own, more miserable.

LOCKDOWN
Trophies’re gone. Ship’s gone….Kid’s gone…I got nothin‘.

VIBES
You sound like oaky earth music me little brudda Jazz talk about. You know da kine, wit all da twang.

LOCKDOWN
Those cowboys got nothin’ on my blues.

VIBES
(tilting her head curiously)
How…emo.

The bounty hunters grows irritated of her heckling.

LOCKDOWN
Darlin’ you plan on playin’ shrink all night or you gonna fetch me another one a’these (he twitches his hook just enough to bring attention to the glass in its grasp.)

Vibes rears up with both hands planted on her hips now, her optic visor narrowing in offense.

VIBES
I say you cut off! And if you keep on wit dat attitude, (points sternly to the exit) I have me cuzin trow you out!

The bounty hunter groans some more and manages to sit up. He slouches back against the booth, and looks up at three images of Vibes, two of which dance on either side of her then finally merge into one, clearly unimpressed femme. She shakes her head and saunters off, muttering something about their strongest perk-up concoction. Lockdown has no doubt she is off to fetch that vile drink for him and decides to feign a semblance of sobriety so he won’t have to drink it. His attempts are short lived as he witnesses a green & purple dealer appear at the door.

The bounty hunter is up and locking Swindle in a choke hold before he even questions if he has the balance to perform such an action. He slams the dealer into wall, gapped teeth gritting and his hook merely a twitch away from the beady purple optics.

SWINDLE
(voice raspy from the choking)
Lockdown…what a pleasure--

LOCKDOWN
(with heartfelt rage)
You owe me a ship!

A tall and bulky red Autobot pops up next to the pair, grabbing each one by the collar and apathetically prying them apart.

BLASTER
Welcome to the B&V gentle bots. Home of the hip-hop, beat-box and super-fly (he tosses Swindle into Lockdown’s booth)…no brawlin’ policy.

Lockdown’s head rush catches up to him and he winces with a groan in the Autobot’s chokehold.

LOCKDOWN
(voice strained)
Yeah…I heard about that policy.

Blaster looks to his cousin for verification and she replies with a hitchhiking thumb pointing at the exit. With a swift kick to the door and two-handed toss, Blaster sends Lockdown to the plot of ground he’ll most likely call home tonight. The bounty hunter lands with a thud and grunt.

BLASTER
(strangely cheerful tone)
Brush up on yer cool, bro…then we might let ya kick it here again.

The Autobot disappears into the club, leaving Lockdown to the blandness of the repetitive drumming baseline that represents the area’s only sign of life. He was about to sink into recharge but the sound of a familiar engine hum grows louder. The engine’s pitch clearly distinguishes it as a smaller, earth model…one Lockdown has ridden with in the past. He props his head up just enough to see a single headlight on the horizon. It’s not until the vehicle passes by does the bounty hunter’s vision communicate to his processor that it’s a bike with a side car. Within a nanoklik, the sprawled mech becomes a menacing musclecar, revving his beastly engine and peeling out toward the highway.

Prowl sped by the B&V’s sign without the slightest interest. He didn’t even look in the club’s direction and therefore didn’t see the rejected patron out front. He could only focus ahead, his processor grinding with annoyed guilt over the call from Sari.

Lockdown’s speed was not hindered by his lack of sobriety, in fact, it tended to increase when overcharging was in the mix. He quickly closes the gap between his spiked bumper and the bike’s rear tire, working out a master plan of lightly clipping the kid, just enough to send him off road and slow him down. That plan could’ve been brilliantly executed by a sober bot. Instead, Lockdown proceeds to slam his full momentum into the side car, launching the bike off the highway and sending it skidding across the unpaved Cybertronian terrain. The musclecar slams on his breaks, attempting a one-eighty, but instead flips over and tumbles into the off-road as well.

Prowl pops into robot mode to weather the tumbling with shock absorbing limbs. The faint image of red highlights blaring in his rearview before the assault told him exactly who was responsible for the attack. He leaps to his feet, launching his throwing stars at the clumsily approaching menace.

A couple of shuriken to the chest would normally sting quite severely, but Lockdown has more important issues on hand, like how to work his mods. He cycles through each upgrade, nearly losing his balance when the chainsaw roars out.

Prowl relaxes at the sorry spectacle, highly disappointed by the lack of challenge and considers just walking away. That would’ve been a dignified plan had he not found himself slammed to the ground by an encumbering net.

Lockdown is impressed by his aim, considering the effort it took remember how to fire it. He staggers up to his captive, grinning stupidly at the sight of the seething expression belonging to this impressively immortal bot.

PROWL
(utterly offended)
Lockdown! Explain your contentious behavior.

The bounty hunter wobbles down to one knee then squints unevenly as he examines the ninja’s now dented and dinged black chassis.

LOCKDOWN
Looks like Prowl…Sounds like Prowl…(he leans in closer and sniffs a couple times)

PROWL
(thoroughly repulsed)
Ughh, get away from me…You smell like a low-grade landfill. Have you no dignity?

LOCKDOWN
Yep…definitely a spot on replica. ****, if I hadn’t seen the real Prowl blow up with my ship, I might be fooled by ya.

PROWL
Dammit Lockdown, I am the real Prowl.

LOCKDOWN
(shaking his head but restoring his grin)
Nah…can’t be…real Prowl never cusses.

He tosses Prowl over his shoulder and, after a couple attempts, manages to stand up. With a wavering stride, he carries his prisoner toward the blinking neon lights of the B&V.

LOCKDOWN
No matter…yer company’ll do. Bot needs someone to talk ta…‘specially after he loses everythin’ he‘s got.

PROWL
(struggling futilely)
What are you talking about!?

LOCKDOWN
(continuing, sarcastically indifferent)
Who knows, maybe you’ll be able to shed a little light on the subject of why a punk-aft kid, whom you‘re a spittin’ image of by the way, (nudges his hook in the ninja‘s side) would come to me seeking a partnership, then get himself blown-the-scrap up without discussin’ it with me first.

PROWL
Enough Lockdown. You’re not making any sense…Put me down at once! We can discuss this civilly.

LOCKDOWN
You can, maybe.

PROWL
(huffing)
You can’t…do this to me!

LOCKDOWN
Funny…coulda sworn I am.

The ninja eases off his struggles to vent a frustrated and humiliated stream of air.

PROWL
I apologize for leaving without informing you first, but I had no way to communicate.

LOCKDOWN
Ever here of a comm?

PROWL
I couldn’t risk detection from the other Decepticons.

LOCKDOWN
(stumbles a bit from insulted surprise)
Other? I ain’ no ‘con, kid…never was.

PROWL
I don’t mean you! And what’s with you? Are you overcharged?

LOCKDOWN
How‘dja guess.

Lockdown approaches the B&V and carries his hostage through the front door without a second thought to his recent ejection from it. They’re immediately greeted by a fuming Vibes who follows behind them waving a lecturing figure.

VIBES
Dis is not dat kine of club! Don’t make me call over Blaster again!

LOCKDOWN
It’s fine now, darlin’, I’m cool. (heads to his original booth) Your cous’ said I could come back when I’m cool again. (he spins to face the femme and tilts his head at the ninja). See…functioning ninjabot makes cool bounty hunter.

Vibes plants her hands on her hips, perplexed by his reasoning. Lockdown flops Prowl into the booth, much to the surprise of Swindle who now occupies it. The dealer watches the events with intrigue, leaning back while he regains his trademark smile.

SWINDLE
(in a ‘why-the-spark-not’ tone)
No harm, Vibes darling, let him stay. I deserved the attack, I was, after all, partially responsible for the destruction of everything he’s ever worked for. Lemme buy him and his…friend a drink. It’s the least I can do.

VIBES
(not amused)
Fine, but any more violence and all a ya’s will find yarselfs kissin’ the highway…and fer spark sake, free da poor ting from dat net.

She turns away with waning disgust, too mellow to let anything bother her for more than a cycle. Prowl is unhappily sandwiched in the middle of the booth, sleazy dealer on one side and boorish bounty hunter on the other.

LOCKDOWN
(tugging at the net with his hook)
If I untie ya, will ya stop behavin’ like a horse’s ass?

PROWL
(snapping in defense)
I am not the one behaving with acrimony.

Lockdown looks to Swindle for a translation.

SWINDLE
I’d call that a yes…say, shouldn’t you be pounding me into scrap?

LOCKDOWN
Later…right now, the three of us need to have a little spark to spark.

Once again thank you for posting it early. Made me smile and I couldn't resist reading it a second time XD excellent update!

"A/N: I refuse to make my three readers wait a week to see what the Autobots are doing during the ensuing madness."

Thank You!

"Sheesh…can’t say a word these days without someone implying somethin’ kinky."

Hilarious. Love it.

A/N: Meh, who needs a regular updating schedule, especially now that things are really heating up. =D

QUINTESSON WARSHIP - LABORATORY

Blackarachnia, in spider mode, is wedged in the corner farthest from the Starscream. She’s built a small nest of webbing between the ceiling and adjoining walls. Starscream has let the hours pass by without attempting to speak to her. He understands her distrust and figures it best to carry on with his disorganized crime rather then try to make sense of it to her.

He sits down at the table, scalpel in hand, and begins carving at his fingertips, creating a pile of metal shavings, and wincing painfully with each pass of the blade. The spider has kept her watch on him the entire time, but this new development of self-mutilation has sparked enough of an interest from her to break the silence.

BLACKARACHNIA
Why are you doing that?

Starscream doesn’t reply and continues the painful task, until all five fingertips are bared down to their circuits. He scoops the shavings onto a metal slide, then finally gives the spider his attention.

STARSCREAM
I’ll tell you if you stop behaving like a caged beast and come down here.

BLACKARACHNIA
Frag off! I’m not going anywhere near you.

Starscream rises from the table, specimen slide in hand as he drags his aching chassis over to the machine. His level of exhaustion is clearly slowing him down. The recharge he snuck in was only enough to keep his processor functioning at productive levels, but his chassis is clearly in need of some proper rest. This doesn’t escape Blackarachnia’s attention and she concludes that even if the seeker wanted to attack her, he couldn’t do so successfully. She lowers from her nest and transforms, lingering in the corner before finally approaching the table. She watches Starscream place the slide into a slot on the machine then make a few adjustments to the settings. She’s perplexed by the changes he made to the machine since her arrival.

BLACKARACHNIA
(trying to hide curiosity with snooty indifference)
Why did you change the interface so much? Couldn’t you just have scaled up the original design of your first converter?

Starscream keeps his back to her as he continues flipping switches and adjusting knobs.

STARSCREAM
(speaking quietly)
I could have if I was making that same model of converter.

He twists his focus to the blank monitor above.

STARSCREAM
(raising his voice)
Brinn, I need your expert opinion on something.

No response from the screen.

STARSCREAM
(making a second attempt)
Deliberata, are you there?

Still no response.

STARSCREAM
(with a light smirk)
Sevax, anyone ever tell you that what you lack in size you DON’T make up in intelli--

BLACKARACHNIA
(interrupting rudely)
They obviously aren’t listening now, you freak.

The seeker raises a brow at her choice of insult. He approaches the table and holds his uninjured hand out to her.

STARSCREAM
Come. Let me show why I altered the design.

She hisses at the gesture, eyeballing him skeptically.

BLACKARACHNIA
I can walk over there without you touching me.

She huffs past him, leaving a wide berth, and keeping him in her periphery with two of her four optics. He turns with a meek shrug and joins her at the machine. She observes the wide gap in the middle of it, pondering why he designed a chamber large enough to house an entire mech’s chassis. She notices the chamber is not connected to the slot where the All Spark fragment is. There’s an obvious opening sized exactly right for energon cubes, and it’s connected to the All Spark shard, but the chamber appears connected to something entirely different. Before she can turn to question the seeker on this, Starscream starts powering on the machine then turns with lightening quickness and abruptly pins her against him, her back pressed to his chest.

BLACKARACHNIA
(shocked and revolted)
What are you doing?

It’s obviously taking all his strength to keep her from escaping his grasp. She can feel an unhealthy and uneven vibration thrumming under his cock pit, but her full body struggles are still unmatched to his upper body strength. He wraps his skinned fingers around her forearm and shoves her hand into the chamber. She screams as a series of electric bursts strike her hand and she desperately tries to pull it from the glow, but Starscream’s grip is too strong. Her fingertips tingle and burn and she continues to scream. Hardly half a cycle passes but it feels like an eternity. The spiderbot watches some purple material travel through the clear tubes in the machine. Her stolen flesh comes into contact with the All Spark energy and transmutes into pink glowing liquid, which fills only a tiny fraction of the empty cube. Her aching fingertips throb and glow as the energy continues to focus on them.

BLACKARACHNIA
(voice wavering in painful rage)
You’re a monster, Starscream! I hope the energon my body creates will mortally poison your twisted spark and extinguish it for good!

Starscream remains silent, aside from the occasional painful groan, and waits for the machine to finish and the static to die down before releasing the heated femme. She immediately spins around, assaulted hand balled up against her chest and her good hand landing a slapping blow to his cheek. Starscream takes the attack with a turn of his head and anticipates more, but she backs off, fangs bared, good hand gripping the altered one. He glances at her balled fist then meets her blazing optics.

STARSCREAM
(calm)
Show me your hand.

BLACKARACHNIA
Go slag yourself!

STARSCREAM
(growing irritated)
Just…open your hand.

She festers a moment, boring her glare into him, then finally drops her optics to her hand and unclenches her fist. The pain her fingertips has subsided and only minor tingles and a slight numbing remain. Nothing shy of astonishment pops in all four of her optics as five light blue fingertips, shining of pure Cybertronian metal, emerge from her fist. Her jaw drops and she snaps her glance back up to the seeker.

BLACKARACHNIA
(dumbfounded)
I don’t understand.

Starscream’s face hints to an expression of satisfaction but it’s buried under layers of fatigue. He turns from her and staggers slowly to the table, collapsing in his chair. He lays his head down and vents a long gust of air. She continues to gape at her fingers, face awash with a bombardment of mixed emotions.

BLACKARACHNIA
Bu-- But how…and why?

STARSCREAM
(speaking soft but proud)
Isn’t that the reason you resurrected me?

Blackarachnia is left speechless. She can’t pull her stare from her fingertips and touches them with her unaltered hand as if to verify their existence.

Starscream smiles weakly and dims his optics, letting himself slip into recharge. His processor barely has time to shut down before he feels the heat from the femme’s body slide up to linger next to his shoulder. She doesn’t touch him, simply stands, staring, clutching her new hand.

STARSCREAM
(with a raspy, but sarcastic whisper)
There something I can do for you?

She practically falls onto him, gliding her hand up his neck to rest on the side of his face where she slapped him. Her four optics are screaming a mix of reverence and regret. Starscream can’t see her expression but he can feel it in her touch as her blue-tipped claws intertwine around his fingers (the ones he didn't carve up).

BLACKARACHNIA
(with awe-struck revelation)
You’re…still one of us.

Starscream presses his sheered finger to his lips, gesturing a ‘shush’ and points the same finger to the screen above. She lifts his hand and lowers her head, pressing the hand to her cheek.

BLACKARACHNIA
(soft and regretful)
Oh Starscream…I’m so sorry.

His only response is a tiny, sincere smirk. It’s obvious he has something to say but he has to build up strength to force the words out.

STARSCREAM
(nearly inaudible)
If you put the…All Spark fragment onto the specimen slide, then…I’ll instruct you how to…use the controls…Step into the chamber after that…and you will be cured.

She looks back at the machine, imagining the scenario in her head. She continues to pet the side of his face, almost autonomously as her processor sifts through too many possibilities. She turns back and leans her face into the hand again, clutching it as she presses it to her cheek.

BLACKARACHNIA
I can’t believe you did this…I don’t know what to say.

STARSCREAM
Don’t…say anything…just do…the one thing you…want to do.

She shrinks at the thought of her obsession. It seems so out of place now; so selfish. Why would he bother with her cure now? There are more important issues at hand, doesn’t he realize that?

BLACKARACHNIA
But…I can’t…not now…(she looks at him, her scientific reasoning speaking up) Won’t that consume the shard? And if my appearance is altered, your cover will be blown for sure.

Starscream only shrugs indifferently.

BLACKARACHNIA
No…Tell me your plan and let me help you. (she lightly glides her claws across the encumbering cables on his wings, shuddering at the apparent discomfort of them) I’m so sorry I doubted you…please, let me help you.

It takes a couple ventilation cycles from the seeker before he can mutter a response.

STARSCREAM
(barely audible)
Very well…we need…outside assistance.

BLACKARACHNIA
I can call Shockwave. The Quints don’t appear to be tracking our comm activity.

STARSCREAM
(lightly chuckles)
Fools…they’re making this…too easy.

This comment adds hope to her tower of emotions, but concern for his health takes precedence given how broken his speech is.

BLACKARACHNIA
I could call the Autobots…Optimus Prime will listen…I think. He can pull the Elite Guard in.

Starscream doesn’t appear to agree with this.

STARSCREAM
No…call the ninja…tell him to bring his…hologram mod here.

She tilts her head with pity, her hope slipping away.

BLACKARACHNIA
But he’s on Earth, Starscream…you…you need to rest, you’re not processing clearly.

She glides her fingers over his forehead and looks on him with worry.

STARSCREAM
(nearly purring from the touch)
You’re wrong…He’s on this planet…traveled with us…I helped him…He owes me a favor.

She stares blankly at him, trying to decipher if he’s hallucinating.

STARSCREAM
I have his…comm freq…stop gawking at me like…I’m a lunatic…and call him.

BLACKARACHNIA
(almost insulted but more impressed)
You’re just full of surprises aren‘t you…(she tries to imagine the scenario then shrugs it off and continues with the issue at hand). How’s he suppose to get on the ship?

STARSCREAM
(weakly shrugging)
He’s a ninja…he’ll figure something out.

BLACKARACHNIA
(leans in and lowers her voice)
How do you know he’ll help us?

STARSCREAM
(brow furrows slightly)
You going to…help or keep wasting…my recharge time with…useless questions?

BLACKARACHNIA
(clenches her teeth in budding frustration)
Well, I need to know where we’re coming from here.

STARSCREAM
Quints are…his problem too…he’ll help.

Blackarachnia is unsure of his confidence. She wants to believe him but still questions how his exhausted state is effecting his reasoning abilities. She looks over him introspectively, still amazed by his drastic change from their pre-Earth days. It’s either dumb luck or divine intervention that this strange seeker is still alive. She lets an adoring smile slip and nearly pats herself on the back for unintentionally transforming this selfish snake into an unsung hero.

Starscream is on the verge of blissful recharge, soaking up her consoling touch like a desert weed to precious raindrops.

BLACKARACHNIA
What about Megatron?

His purring stops. He watches his promise of blissful recharge flutter away.

STARSCREAM
(irritation rising)
What about him?

BLACKARACHNIA
Shouldn’t you tell him you’re…not a traitor. He locked himself away in his champion’s room. Won’t talk to anyone.

STARSCREAM
(chewing over the picture she just painted)
Sounds…unstable. Leave him…out of this…for now. Give him…time to cool down.

She clutches his hand in both of hers and brings it to her lips, dimming her optics at the feel of him on her flesh.

BLACKARACHNIA
(gentle whisper)
Oh Starscream.

STARSCREAM
(one optic barely illuminates)
What!…More interrogation or…can I recharge now?

She giggles into his hand then places her hand on the side of his helm, creating a link between their cortexes and uploading Prowl‘s comm frequency.

BLACKARACHNIA
Get your rest…genius. I’ll make the call.

BLASTER & VIBES NIGHTCLUB

Lockdown, Prowl and Swindle still occupy the same booth. The bounty hunter and the dealer appear relaxed but the ninja is leaning on the table, head pressed into his hands.

PROWL
A weapon of mass destruction?!

SWINDLE
(tilting some pink liquid down his throat)
You got it! Any and all surface life…woosh…deactivated with the press of a button.

LOCKDOWN
Ya mean like an EMP pulse? (cringes as he drinks his sober-up sludge)Thought you said it was a missile.

SWINDLE
It is. It’s both. With a long-range missile, they can keep hiding like the cowards they are, but target the dead center of Iacon.

PROWL
(voice muffled by his hands)
Why does its point of impact matter if it has planet-wide effects?

SWINDLE
Primus guys, you writing a report?

Prowl pulls his head up with disbelieving annoyance and looks at the dealer like he’s the dumbest mech ever.

PROWL
We’re talking about the extinction of our home planet. Don’t you think the details are rather important? How can you be so calm about this? (looks over to Lockdown) Both of you! Do you not even care?

Lockdown shrugs indifferently.

LOCKDOWN
Seen a few apocalypse threats in my time. (sets his cup down and shoves it away with a snubbing glance) Autobots always figure a way outta it, though. Never needed to make it my business.

PROWL
(eyeballs the bounty hunter with aversion)
You do realize who’s commanding the Autobots. They’re not figuring anything out anytime soon. (dragging the cup back in front of Lockdown) They’re too busy trying to pull their heads from their afts.

Lockdown chuckles then ascends into a guffaw, pounding his fist to the table and nearly spilling his drink. Prowl, not one bit amused, shakes his head and turns back to face Swindle.

PROWL
Answer my question. What happens at the missile’s point of impact?

SWINDLE
(smirking simply from Lockdown’s contagious laughter)
What do think? It goes boom. (hands gesture an explosion) Does a bit a good ol’fashioned physical damage before the surge spreads across the planet.

Lockdown descends from his hysterical high and plops his hand on Prowl’s head, giving it a friendly shove.

LOCKDOWN
Ohh, kid…I’ll admit I like yer processor like this.

Prowl jerks out of the insulting touch.

PROWL
Do not touch me.

Lockdown leans over Prowl, using the same teasing hand to reach out to Swindle and smack him in the side of the head. Prowl huffs at the invasion to his personal space and Swindle drops his smile and attempts a look of innocence.

SWINDLE
What was that for?!

Lockdown leans back into his own space, shoving his drink away again and raising an annoyed brow to Swindle.

LOCKDOWN
Th’spark you doin’ blabbing all your employer’s secrets to us? Can no one depend on yer weaselly aft?

SWINDLE
(replies defensively with vivid body language)
They’re pissing me off. They volunteered my prize fighter for their little scientific experimentation. They got no scruples. I wouldn’t be working for ‘em if they didn’t have our home planet by the ball bearings.

PROWL
Have they roped in anyone else in addition to Starscream?

SWINDLE
(confessional)
Uhhh, well…I kinda…convinced my ol’ partner to hop on the bandwagon…Chromia said she’d be be their eyes and ears of EG activity.

PROWL
(shocked)
What!?

LOCKDOWN
Who?

The club’s door creaks open barely, causing Swindle to glance over at who’s entering. Prowl and Lockdown keep their shocked and curious stare on the dealer, then twist to see what the distraction is when Swindle’s expression morphs to puzzlement.

A small, orange and yellow techno-organic surveys the bar, looking over all the patrons then locking a masked, but most likely livid, face onto the three mech’s staring at her. She fires up her jetpack and soars up to land on their table, hurling her tracking device directly at Prowl, and nailing him directly in the golden chevron.

PROWL
Sari!? (rubbing his assaulted forehead) What are you--

SARI
(pointing an enraged finger at him)
Quiet you! I get to ask the questions around here!

Lockdown bursts into laughter and leans over to Prowl.

LOCKDOWN
(teasing)
Baggage?

Sari kicks the cup of sober-up sludge at Lockdown, launching the black liquid across his white face. He stops laughing.

Vibes approaches to inspect the violent new patron.

VIBES
I should have known it be friends of yours. (waves a finger at the girl) Why you wear de mask?

SARI
Du-uh! To breath?

Vibes stands her ground, face washing over in an ‘oh really’ look.

VIBES
(threatening)
You going to barge into my club and pull attitude wit me?

LOCKDOWN
(wiping the liquid from his face)
Bad idea, kid.

Sari looks back and forth between Lockdown, Vibes and then finally at Prowl.

SARI
(unapologetic)
I’m sorry…I’m just a little upset that this bot (fiercely illuminates her optics at Prowl) made me travel across the entire universe to find his deserter butt!

VIBES
(waves the girl off uninterested)
Whatever, not my problem. I only mean to tell we have atmosphere simulator.

The fed up femme turns and leaves, mumbling a string of profanities.

SARI
Oh. (her mask retracts with -fwip-) Much better. (returns to a lecturing stance in front of Prowl) Now, as for you mister!

PROWL
(firm)
Sari, I’m not going back. I’m sorry you feel so strongly about it.

SARI
(desperately)
Have you seriously chosen the company of these (gestures to Prowl’s company) jerkbuckets to your own team!?

Swindle glances to Lockdown with an arched brow and mouths the word ‘jerkbucket’ with amused questioning. Lockdown shakes his head then twists around and pulls an object from his ‘trunk’.

PROWL
(frustrated)
Unless our ‘team’, as you so assuredly put it, has figured out a solution to this planet’s predicament, than I would rather not have anything to do with--

Prowl is silenced as Lockdown slams Master Yoketron’s helmet onto his head then pats the top of it a couple times for good measure.

PROWL
(stunned)
…them?

SARI
(shocked by the action)
Your missing helmet.

SWINDLE
(disappointed)
Awww, you’re just going to give it away like that? You coulda at least haggled a--

Sari and Lockdown fire Swindle a stabbing glare. The dealer hunkers down in the booth, optics wide and mouth shut.

The upgraded cyber ninja sits in dumbfounding realization as a flood of dawning thought overwhelms him. The other three just watch him curiously.

SARI
Prowl? Are you okay?

Prowl reaches out to Sari, his optic visor beholding her reverently. He rests his fingers on her tiny shoulder and his thumb to her cheek. She brings her hand to meet his, smiling sweetly in response.

SARI
Did-- Did that cure you?

PROWL
(optic visor glowing bright as he continues to process an overload of thoughts)
I was already cured…Something else was wrong.

SARI
What? How’s that possible?

The moment is interrupted when Prowl’s comm crackles with static and a raspy feminine voice emerges from it.

BLACKARACHNIA
Prowl, do you copy?

Prowl isn’t sure what to expect anymore, but responds anyway, looking over his cohorts’ optics with bewilderment.

PROWL
Yes, who’s this?

BLACKARACHNIA
(whispering)
It’s Blackarachnia.

Swindle sinks further down in the booth, face screaming guilt. He gestures desperately to the others.

SWINDLE
(whispering)
Don’t tell her I’m here.

BLACKARACHNIA
(continuing with apprehension)
How feasible is it for to bring your hologram mod to us in the cloaked Quintesson warship hovering over the arena?

Prowl’s confusion is about to send his processor back to a severe state of glitching.

PROWL
What? Why me? Why is everyone targeting me today?

SARI
(leaning into his touch)
Because you’re a hero…(growing confused) By the way, what’s a Quintesson?

Prowl turns and regrettably looks to Lockdown for some easier advice.

LOCKDOWN
(half shrugs and points at Sari)
Girl’s right.

Prowl drops his head with a relenting sigh.

PROWL
(into comm)
You want me to sneak onto the Quintesson warship, give you my mod that enables my undetectable stealth, then attempt to sneak off without the aid of my mod?

BLACKARACHNIA
Well…(meekly) yes?

Prowl groans in frustration.

PROWL
What for!?

BLACKARACHNIA
Starscream wants it. He has a plan to take the Quints down…I think.

The three mechs perk up with dawning hope.

SWINDLE
(smile creeping across his face)
Why that sneaky son-of-a-glitch. He even had me fooled. (quickly hops out of the booth and holds his hand out to Prowl) Give it to me. I’ll take it to em.

LOCKDOWN
(eyeballing the dealer skeptically)
Like hell you will.

Prowl chews over the situation, analyzing the dealerbot and his potential for sincerity.

BLACKARACHNIA
Prowl, are you still there?

PROWL
Yes, Blackarachnia, I am here…(pulls the mod from his chest and places it in Swindle’s hand). Swindle will bring it to you, is that acceptable?

BLACKARACHNIA
What? Swindle?! NO! He’s a dirty double-cross--

PROWL
(confident)
He’s seen the error of his way and I believe you can trust him.

Swindle freezes, unable to comprehend the idea that he can gain trust without first delivering a sales pitch.

BLACKARACHNIA
Do…you trust him?

PROWL
(taking a moment to study the dealer’s sheepish optics)
Yes, I do. He will deliver the mod. Is there anything else you need?

BLACKARACHNIA
No…Prowl, thank you…and…for what it’s worth…I’m sorry…for what we did to you.

PROWL
(introspective)
I am alive thanks to you…I hold no grudges.

He ends the call and lingers silently while his processor grinds through some memories. A vivid thought hits him and he looks over the others with a bitter expression.

PROWL
I take that back… I do harbor one grudge.

The ninja scoots out of the booth and heads to the exit, stopping to look back on the questioning optics.

SARI
(worried)
Prowl? Where are you going?

PROWL
(to Swindle)
You say Chromia is working for the Quintessons?

SWINDLE
You got it, bucko, but…(lower his voice) don’t tell her I told ya.

LOCKDOWN
(scowling at the dealer)
S’ere any bot you haven’t stabbed in the back?

Swindle can only shrug with a guilty smile. He walks over to the exit, giving Prowl a grateful pat to the arm then pushing past him out the door. Prowl watches him transform and speed off toward Kaon.

LOCKDOWN
(looking to Prowl with interrogation)
What now hero? Why are ya so eager to leave this joint?

PROWL
I have business to attend to at the Elite Guard Headquarters.

SARI
(insulted)
You mean you’re gonna leave me here with (gesture to Lockdown) him?

PROWL
I assure you Sari, Lockdown will see to it that no harm comes to you.

Prowl removes the Autobot insignia from his chest and walks back to the table. He slaps it onto the bounty hunter’s faceless black symbol then turns back to the exit. Lockdown beholds the action with offense.

LOCKDOWN
(shouting out)
Th’spark you think yer doin’?

PROWL
(replying with a shout but not looking back)
Giving you my trust.

Prowl yanks open the door again, flashing Sari a smirk and a wink.

LOCKDOWN
(pursues the ninja, waving a threatening hook)
You got some serious sparkplugs kid.

PROWL
(not intimidated)
Yes, you have said that before.

Prowl leaves the club, much to Lockdown’s annoyance. The bounty hunter turns back toward the booth and frowns at the girl, who stands with her arms crossed, equally sizing him up.

LOCKDOWN
(muttering under his breath)
Well ain’t this just…peachy.

Yeah go Sari! Prowl is back yay.

Lockdown is brilliant I love how you portray him.

*exudes more fic love*

PROWL
(eyeballs the bounty hunter with aversion)
You do realize who’s commanding the Autobots. They’re not figuring anything out anytime soon.

Hahahaha! Sentinel Magnus!

Have I complimented your Swindle yet? He's great, I really can't get enough, wish he'd have been in the show some more. And Like Carriemus said, Lockdown = Pure Win!

A/N: Not much to say other than the second scene takes full advantage of the PG13-rating =D

Special thanks to Hellkitty and Carriemus Prime for the beta read. ::hugs::

Armorock, here's some more Waspinator for ya. ^_^

KAON - GLADIATORIAL ARENA - LOWER LEVEL

Waspinator makes his way past the training rooms, peering curiously into each one as he passes by. He knows exactly who he’s looking for and his quest is completed once he reaches the end of the hall. Seated on the bench just outside the Champion’s room is a not-so-familiar face, but one he knows for certain he attended the Autobot academy with when they both used to wear the red insignia.

Shockwave heard the predacon approach, but he didn’t expect to be vengefully pinned against the wall so quickly.

SHOCKWAVE
(voice strained by the claws around his neck)
What on Cybertron do you think you‘re doing!?

WASPINATOR
(growling directly in the intel bot’s face)
Two-face bot destroy Wazp’s life! Now Wazzpinator get payback!

Shockwave drops his shoulders and rolls his optic in annoyance.

SHOCKWAVE
Now is not the appropriate time to rehash old grudges.

WASPINATOR
(fuming even more)
Geekbot wrong! Wazzpinator think it perfect time for confrontation!

Waspinator buzz-roars as he throws Shockwave to the other side of the hall. The intel bot grunts as his back slams into the Champion Room’s door. The predacon advances on him, rearing an arm back to lay a driving punch into the single optic, but the door rips open, causing Shockwave to fall back on his aft. The flying green fist is caught by an impressive black hand which twists it and forces the attacker, after a series of pathetic yelps and buzzes, to the floor. Shockwave looks up with awe to the formidable mech stepping over him, and looking back down on him with question.

Megatron emerges into the hallway, dragging the groveling techo-organic behind him. His leg is still damaged but he’s using an old rusty sword as a crutch.

MEGATRON
Shockwave!

The intel bot pops up from his humiliated sprawl and promptly appears next to his leader’s side, his optic glowing fiercely with optimism. They make their way down the corridor, Megatron pulling the predacon behind him like a rag doll.

MEGATRON
(calm and confident)
I do not know or care to know what your quarrel is about, but I request you continue it above in the designated fighting grounds.

SHOCKWAVE
(confused)
I-- I don’t understand, my liege…won’t that attract unnecessary attention from--

MEGATRON
(interrupting)
Precisely.

The three emerge onto the main level, near the concession stand, immediately catching the attention of Lugnut and Blitzwing.

LUGNUT
Master!

Lugnut rushes to his limping leader’s side, beholding him reverently. Blitzwing is quick to follow his comrade, but hesitant to speak. The group travels to the nearest arched doorway leading into the empty stadium seating. Megatron stops in the doorway, causing his followers to abruptly stop behind him. His internal temperature rises as he catches sight of his swords and the crushed converter, but he quickly stifles his anger to focus on the moment at hand.

MEGATRON
(quietly with scheming)
My loyal soldiers…I need you to create a diversion.

LUGNUT
Anything my Lord! What kind of diversion would you like?

Megatron looks over his shoulder at Lugnut, his optics conveying what could almost be an appreciation for his doting subservient.

MEGATRON
A big one (he points to the fighting grounds)…down there…distracting enough that I may depart these grounds, unnoticed.

WASPINATOR
(stupidly daring to speak up)
What kind of leader leave his botzz behind while he ezscapezs!?

Megatron forms a tiny smile as he hears Blitzwing’s face switch to Hothead and feels the heat radiating off of Lugnut. He lifts the doubting bug within view of his scheming optics then sends him hurling through the air and over the rows of seats.

MEGATRON
Go get him.

Lugnut and Blitzwing immediately heed their master’s call and charge toward Waspinator. The predacon has the sense to fly with the throw to prevent an unpleasant slam into the ground.

LUGNUT
(with a fierce roar)
How dare you doubt our leader!?

HOTHEAD BLITZWING
Get down here and fight like a Decepticon, insect!

Megatron allows himself a shred of enjoyment as he watches the spectacle.

SHOCKWAVE
(utterly perplexed)
I still don’t understand, my liege. Why are you encouraging instability in our ranks?

The screens around the fighting grounds suddenly fill with the image of Deliberata and Sevax. Megatron steps back, out of view from the aliens.

DELIBERATA
(with his anger face)
What is the meaning of this tomfoolery!?

Shockwave dawns onto his leader’s plan as Megatron limps away, aiming for a side door.

SHOCKWAVE
(ardently following behind)
But Megatron! Where will you go?

Megatron pushes the door open but turns back to face Shockwave. His smile replaced with a stern but humbled confidence.

MEGATRON
To seek help.

He slips through the exit, maintaining a commanding air to his walk despite the limp then transforms and disappears into the Cybertronian sky. Shockwave is left with a flood of processes, a enlightening mix of pride and hope. Despite his lack of knowledge to Megatron’s plan, he finds encouragement from his processor’s inability to access a single shred of doubt.

ELITE GUARD HEADQUARTERS - CHROMIA’S PRIVATE QUARTERS

The double-agent sits at her desk, looking very displeased and tapping at her comm.

CHROMIA
Fraggit Swindle, why don’t you answer your comm?

She reaches over and switches her stereo on, letting its soft hum of sultry music fill the room. She leans back in her chair, venting a sigh.

CHROMIA
I gotta relax…can’t accomplish anything if I’m behaving like a slagging sparkling ready to spring a leak.

There’s a knock at her door--most likely Sentinel.

CHROMIA
(responding loud but flat)
Yes!

A deep voice, barely audible emerges, simple speaking her name. It sounded way too calm and smooth to be Sentinel.

CHROMIA
(rising from her chair)
Who’s there?

PROWL
It’s me Chromia…it’s Prowl.

She freezes, not sure what to make of this.

CHROMIA
How’s that possible? You’re on Earth.

He was supposed to be anyways. Why didn’t anyone tell her he was here? Who’s processor needed fragging for keeping her out of the loop?

PROWL
Are you going to let me in?

CHROMIA
(skeptical)
Depends. You going to attack me again?

PROWL
That’s a loaded question.

She quirks a smile and approaches the door, slightly expanding her wings in case of a worst case scenario.

CHROMIA
Okay, I’m intrigued now.

She opens the door and beholds her old flame with quick heat flash to her chassis but his missing insignia immediately diverts her attention. Before she can question it, she finds herself pulled tight against him, dipped down and devoured by a deep, passionate kiss. She goes limp, her spark tingling with the rekindling of her past desire for the scrappy little bot. She moans into his mouth, wrapping her arms around his head. He pulls away from the kiss, standing her upright then walking deeper into her room. He approaches her desk, turning music’s volume up to fill the atmosphere with the appropriate mood. Still in a haze, the femme closes the door, locking it then gasps as a set of black and tan arms wrap around her waist and pull her so her back is pressed flush to his chest.

Prowl’s hands glide around her waist and hips, his entire body guiding her in a slow rhythm. His face is buried in her neck, kissing and occasionally nipping at sensitive wires. She leans her head back on his shoulder, lightly giggling in ecstasy and running her arms along his.

CHROMIA
(breathless)
You going to…keep me guessing?

PROWL
(purring directly into her audio receptor)
About what?

CHROMIA
(releasing a moan before speaking)
About…what the spark you’re doing here…and why your insignia is missing?

He twists her around to face him then pushes them both to her berth. She shrinks down to sit upon it once feeling it press against the back of her legs. Prowl kneels down over her, scooting her back and easing down on top of her.

PROWL
I want you to join me.

He dives back into a consuming kiss, lifting her arms over her head and locking them down with one hand. She can only respond with nonsensical noises of arousal. He pulls from the kiss, just enough to mutter his next thoughts.

PROWL
I work for the Quintessons now, just like you used to.

Her optics brighten.

CHROMIA
What!?

PROWL
(with a sultry smirk)
They are on the verge of controlling Cybertron now, Chromia. Join me and together we can welcome the dawning of a new Cybertron.

The ninja presses more of his weight into her body and lowers his mouth to her neck again.

CHROMIA
Hol-- Hold on there…(she lets a moan escape while he teases her neck). You don’t wanna work for the Quints.

PROWL
(whispering in her audio receptor)
Why not? Is there a better option for two bots like us?

CHROMIA
(confusing growing through arousal)
Um…because…they’re wretched, back-stabbing lowlifes.

Prowl can only laugh at the irony. Chromia attempts to move her wings but to no avail as they’re pinned against the berth.

CHROMIA
(now slightly frustrated)
What do you mean by ‘bots like us‘? Autobots?

Chromia almost feels sorry for this poor mixed-up Autobot and nearly regrets the job she did on his processor. She wants to question if Swindle got to him too but she can hardly think straight with the ninja’s merciless voice flowing directly into her cortex.

PROWL
No…I mean bots that are destined to be unattached, uninhibited…and free.

He cups her cheek in his hand and hints to a kiss, his head tilting and hovering merely a breath from her lips. She sighs longingly, unable to deny her vivid attraction to this unpredictable mech. No bot she’s been close to ever made her feel this way. She prides herself on detachment and manipulation in situations like these, but with Prowl it’s different. Even in their reckless academy days, the little scrapper had a way of bringing the sincerity out of her.

CHROMIA
If freedom is what you seek, you’re better off sticking with the Autobots. (she stares deeply into his optic visor)

Prowl runs fingers along her cheek, looking over her face longingly.

PROWL
I’d rather not. Too many of them have let me down…You’re the only Autobot I can trust anymore…the only one with the courage to be truthful with me.

Okay, that comment actually made her feel guilty, but she could work with this. He is clearly still under the influence of her hypnosis so perhaps she can mold him into a tool for her agenda.

CHROMIA
(going out on a limb)
What you desire…sounds an awful lot like the…Decepticon creed.

Prowl lifts his head up and looks over her optics with question.

PROWL
What are you suggesting?

He still has her arms pinned above her head, but his other hand continues the gentle caressing on her face and helmet.

CHROMIA
Well…I originally had this great plan for a…lifestyle change, if you will. That is before the Quints came back and fragged it all up.

PROWL
They’re not fragging anything up, Chromia. They have great plans for Cybertron.

CHROMIA
(hopeless chuckling under her breath)
Oh, your poor sweet thing, what I have done to you?

Prowl pauses his caressing but continues to study her optics. A tiny smirk begins forming on his mouth.

CHROMIA
(after a reluctant pause)
You…you remember the schoolgirl crush I had on Megatron during out academy days?

PROWL
I would call it more an obsession.

CHROMIA
Right, well…(she winces) I never let it go.

Prowl is now completely engrossed, his smirk spreading wider.

CHROMIA
(hesitantly)
I am…(she can’t believe she about to say this) somewhat affiliated with him…well, more like sworn to his cause.

Prowl stares deep in her optics, obviously processing the new information, but how he is processing it is a mystery to her. Damn unreadable optic visor.

CHROMIA
(with complete sincerity)
I really think it would be in your best interest…assuming we survive this whole squid invasion…to join me…as a Decepticon.

Prowl doesn’t respond with anything but a satisfied smile. She’s about to question him but her entire chassis electrifies with the stasis cuffs he slaps on her wrists. She hollers in shock before going limp with partial paralysis. Prowl pulls back, sitting up on his knees and glaring down at her with a quirked brow.

PROWL
Not the confession I expected, but it will suffice.

CHROMIA
(in denial and speaking weakly)
Primus Prowl, you know I’m into the kinky stuff, but you could at least ask…

PROWL
Save your energy. (he pulls her from the berth and tosses her over his shoulder). You’ll need it for explaining yourself to the Council.

Prowl carries her out of the room, stopping to pick up his master’s helmet which he left just outside the door, then continuing down the corridor.

Chromia can only dangle in bewilderment.

CHROMIA
(with a slight giggle)
Haha, very funny Prowl. You’d better not let anyone see us like this…Sentinel wouldn’t be very happy with you.

PROWL
(typically stoic)
I don’t imagine he will, but that honestly doesn’t concern me at the moment.

They reach the end of the hall which splits off in a “T”. Prowl slips his master’s helmet on and looks down both corridors, his optic visor shining with confidence. He chooses the path to the left.

CHROMIA
(now fully aware of her plight)
Where are we going? This isn’t the way to the Council room.

PROWL
(unaffected)
That was a feeble attempt at deception. Are you sure you’re cut out to be a Decepticon?

CHROMIA
(purely insulted)
Go frag yourself! They’ll never take your word over mine, and where’s your proof!? You don’t even have your insignia.

PROWL
(ignoring her threats)
We’ll see.

They come upon an open elevator and Prowl steps inside. He drifts his hand up the button panel, letting his instinct decide which one to press. The door closes and the elevator ascends smoothly.

PROWL
What do you know of the Quintesson threat?

CHROMIA
(gritting her teeth)
A considerable amount.

PROWL
(lecturing)
When were planning on sharing this information with the Autobots?

CHROMIA
(with guilty hesitation)
Um…soon?

The elevator reaches their floor and Prowl slides through the door before they can fully open, unbothered that he bumps his captive’s aft into the heavy door.

PROWL
How about within the next couple cycles? I expect you to explain in detail to the Council the Quintessons’ intentions. I also would like you to tell them of Starscream’s role of double-agent aboard the their ship and how the Autobots may use me to communicate with him if need be.

CHROMIA
(she feels really dumb now)
Starscream’s not…?

PROWL
Blackarachnia is with him as well. I believe they intend to disarm the WMD.

CHROMIA
(confusion now mixing in her state of angered humiliation)
Since you’re obviously such an expert on the subject, why don’t you tell them yourself?

PROWL
Because I don’t dare stay in that room longer than I need to. I may do something I’ll regret.

They enter a large open room with grand (pompous) architecture. At the opposite end are two large, overly embellished doors, which Prowl heads directly toward.

PROWL
(continuing)
Earlier, I told a friend…You-- You know what a friend is right?…Someone you can trust?

CHROMIA
(snapping coldly)
Spare me!…Trust is overrated.

PROWL
(simply shaking his head)
How sad…As I was saying, I told a friend that I carry no grudges accept for one…which is quite literal in our current situation.

CHROMIA
(fed up)
Do you have a point?

PROWL
Of course. (they approach the doors) I bear an even larger grudge than the one I have for you.

Prowl bursts the doors open with a strong, controlled kick then enters the Council chamber proudly. He sickens at the gaudy architecture then tosses the femme down in the middle of the floor. Only the three main Council members are present: Alpha Trion, Perceptor and Sentinel, and they all stare aghast at the disruptive actions.

SENTINEL
(infuriated)
What is the meaning of this!?

PROWL
(suppressing his anger)
Here is your double-agent. She’s been working with the Decepticons all along.

SENTINEL
(approaching the ninja, optics ablaze)
How dare you, of all bots, accuse my…personnel of treachery.

PROWL
(standing his ground)
Your personnel has just openly confessed to me her devotion to the Decepticons.

CHROMIA
(pleading from her undignified sprawl on the floor)
He’s lying sirs…his processor is still glitching.

SENTINEL
My thoughts exactly! Where is your proof, ninjabot?

CHROMIA
He doesn’t have any proof! He’s just trying to get back at me for--

She cuts herself off when she sees Prowl pull a small disk from the side of his helmet and toss it to Perceptor.

PROWL
Her confession is recorded on that disk. You will note its time stamp and its unaltered condition. (turns for the door but continues speaking with pride) However…seeing how Processor Over Matter doesn’t meet your standards of heroic technique, I don’t expect you to approve of my interrogation tactics here.

Prowl exits the room with a fierce slam of the door. Sentinel is left gawking stupidly while Perceptor plays the tape. The rooms fills with the soundtrack of the femme’s recent encounter with the ninja, no detail left out. She remains guiltily speechless and Sentinel has to take a seat, pressing his head into his palms. Alpha Trion is introspective while Perceptor shifts uncomfortably and averts his gaze from the femme to prevent unprofessional thoughts from entering his processor. Once the playback finishes, Chromia finally musters the courage to speak up.

CHROMIA
(sheepish grin)
Um, all treachery aside…there’s something you bots need to know about The Quintessons.

A/N: Sorry this is late. I blame Christmas. I also blame Christmas for making me write a bunch of Autobot angst and fluff. Eeesh, can we say out of my comfort zone?

[this is silent comm speak]

ELITE GUARD HEADQUARTERS

Only a couple cycles have past since Prowl’s encounter with the Council. He makes his way back into the maze of hallways of the Autobot base but his processor is too clouded to call upon his cyber ninja sense to guide him further. He finds the nearest bench and retreats to it, burying his head in his hands.

What was that? Why did I say that? Who am I to elect myself a hero? A true hero doesn’t act in expectation of praise. Master would be so ashamed…Perhaps that’s why the Well didn’t see me fit to enter; why I was left to drift in oblivion instead of fully merge with the All Spark. Are my past sins too many? Have I not learned from them? I nearly returned to my old ways, influenced solely by a mind trick. Chromia’s powers are not that strong, she knew…knows me; knows my flaws and weaknesses. Why wasn’t I aware of my cure when it happened? That may have prevented the damage she did to me. How did Starscream figure it out before I did?

I’ve spent the majority of my functioning serving only myself. Did I truly think I could achieve hero status with one impetuous action, one that may have been avoided if I had listened to Jazz? Perhaps there was another way. Perhaps it was not my place to play the hero. Perhaps the Council was right and the title of hero is reserved only for a select few.

STARSCREAM
Prowl, are you there?

The unexpected voice in the ninja’s comm snaps him out of his world of burdensome thought.

PROWL
Yes, who is this?

STARSCREAM
(sarcastic)
Do you really need to ask?

Prowl lifts his head from hands and looks both ways down the hallway to make sure no one is in earshot.

PROWL
(talking low)
Starscream…did Swindle deliver my mod to you?

STARSCREAM
Yes.

PROWL
Did he do so without complication?

STARSCREAM
No, he tried to sell it to us but Blackarachnia, with strategic use of her stingers, ‘haggled’ a fair price. Where are you?

PROWL
Elite Guard Headquarters. I am trying to locate my team.

STARSCREAM
Trying? What’s to try? Download the base’s map to your processor and trace Optimus Prime’s comm frequency. Are all cyber ninja’s this technologically inept or are you just--

PROWL
(frustration rising)
I thank you for that helpful information. Now what is it I can do for you, Starscream?

STARSCREAM
Have you told any Autobots of my plans?

PROWL
I don’t even know your plans.

STARSCREAM
I mean, who else knows I’m not in league with the Quintessons?

PROWL
I have only told Chromia and she is informing the Council of the Quintessons as we speak. However, I suspect they’ll be skeptical of her testimony.

STARSCREAM
Why? She is a trusted official. Why wouldn’t they believe her?

PROWL
Was a trusted official. I just blew her cover.

STARSCREAM
What the spark did you do that for?

PROWL
(growing more frustrated)
Wha-- Why didn’t you tell me she was a double-agent? You do realize how much damage she did--

STARSCREAM
So it wasn’t enough that I helped you escape the Death’s Head? You expected me to betray my faction, despite the fact we were unaware of the squid threat then? Are all Autobots this ungrateful?

Prowl drops his head back into his hands.

PROWL
(thoroughly frustrated)
No, forget it. (pinches the bridge of his nose and takes a few deep ventilations) Why did you call? Do you wish me to inform the Autobots of your position?

STARSCREAM
No, I prefer you not mention me at all.

PROWL
(confusion now added to his frustration)
What?…Why?

STARSCREAM
Tell them Blackarachnia is planning to disarm the WMD. They’re more inclined to trust her. She has Autobot programming. If you mention me, it’ll only complicate the matter. No Autobot will ever believe me capable of…you know…

PROWL
(softening slightly)
Selflessness?

Starscream doesn’t respond but Prowl can practically hear the Decepticon‘s processor spinning. He gives Starscream a moment of morally driven discomfort while he rises from the bench and downloads the base’s map from a “You Are Here” kiosk.

PROWL
You said I can trace Optimus Prime’s location using his comm frequency?

STARSCREAM
That is correct. You shouldn’t need to call him, simply plug the numbers into your personal scanner. When you find him, tell him to call Blackarachnia. She will provide regular updates to our status of disarming the weapon.

PROWL
Should I mention you at all? Perhaps suggest that you may be an ally? I don’t believe it’s as hard to fathom as you think. Autobots think differently from Decepticons.

STARSCREAM
(sarcastic)
Do they now? I had no idea.

PROWL
(not amused)
Starscream…

STARSCREAM
You obviously know nothing of the reputation I built for myself during the war. No self-respecting Autobot who knows their history will accept me as an ally.

PROWL
You speak as though you pride yourself on this.

STARSCREAM
Under normal circumstances I would, but since these are not normal circumstances, I suggest we desist the friendly exchanges and you get on with carrying out my request.

PROWL
I have accepted you as an ally, Starscream. Does that mean I do not respect myself?

STARSCREAM
Possibly, but you are the exception. You can relate to the influence of an alien personality altering your processor.

The ninja is not convinced by this explanation. He takes a seat again, leaning against his legs staring straight ahead at nothing in particular.

PROWL
(speaking softly and introspectively)
Your human influence was a far cry from mine. You have found strength from it while mine simply poisoned me…sickened me by my own dark desires.

STARSCREAM
If you’re trying to make me feel guilty, it won’t work.

Prowl runs his hand over his head, his circuits twisting in a self-loathing realization.

PROWL
You intentionally merged me with a detestable character because you knew I would relate to it.

STARSCREAM
(growing bored)
Honestly, we didn’t put that much thought into it.

PROWL
You must have. One of you must have known the human would have surfaced my true nature. It cannot be mere coincidence that he was so closely matched to who I really am.

STARSCREAM
(boredom replaced with impatience)
Not to burst your bubble Prowl, but my colleagues and I regarded you as nothing more than a convenient distraction for Optimus Prime while we went about on our agenda. We didn’t analyze your ‘true nature’ beyond the fact that you were an inherently noble Autobot who was in need a good moral compromising. Now can we please focus on the apocalyptic issue at hand?!

Prowl rises from the bench and paces a few times, his fingers pressing in his forehead.

PROWL
(shaking his head in self doubt)
I am not the one you should rely on for help. (he leans his forehead against the wall) I can’t even think straight anymore. Even after I was cured I abandoned my team for my own selfish desires. It probably took Chromia very little effort to manipulate me. All she had to do was draw upon a very prominent part of who I am.

STARSCREAM
(after a pause)
Are you done?

The Decepticon’s lack of sympathy reminds Prowl who it is he’s oddly enough chosen to bear his soul to. He feels a twinge of embarrassment wash over him yet he still can’t deny how good it felt to vocalize some of his maddening affliction.

PROWL
I…think so.

STARSCREAM
(typically sarcastic)
Are you sure? Because I can put the welfare of this planet on hold while you wallow in your useless pity party.

Prowl remains silent, dimming his optics and keeping his head pinned to the wall.

STARSCREAM
(softening his tone a notch)
Prowl…I’m not asking you to single-handedly take down the Quintesson ship. I simply require you get your superiors in contact with Blackarachnia…Can you do that?

More silence; not ideal to Starscream‘s agenda of impatience but he refrains from speaking as he can practically hear the ninja‘s processor spinning.

PROWL
(near whisper)
Optimus will listen to her…more than he’ll listen to me at this point.

STARSCREAM
(biting back irritation)
Is that a yes?

PROWL
Yes.

STARSCREAM
Good. We will attempt to analyze the trigger mechanism of the WMD, but I can’t say for sure when that will happen. We may just have to wait until tomorrow when the Quints unveil themselves to the Autobots.

PROWL
Why tomorrow? What are they waiting for?

STARSCREAM
(fresh out of tact)
Tomorrow’s Autobot Independence Day you ninja ninny! Primus, maybe I did pick the wrong bot for-- OUCH!

Prowl furrows his brow questioningly as he hears a -smack- and some raspy feminine vocals laying into Starscream.

STARSCREAM
(short)
We’ll be in touch. Starscream out.

Prowl shakes his head and take a few deep ventilations as he pries himself off the wall. He projects the newly downloaded base map on the inside of his visor, but before he can make sense of the image, a message flashes across it.

UNKNOWN
[You ask many questions to which you already know the answers.]

The text isn’t typical comm speak rather it glows an ethereal blue. It hovers in his vision field, even after he lifts his visor up and reveals his rarely seen narrow blue optics.

PROWL
[Who is this? Starscream? What are you talking about?]

UNKNOWN
[You let your worries cloud your spark, my student.]

A shudder travels down the ninja’s chassis, leaving him cold, disbelieving and guilty.

PROWL
(gasping)
Master Yoketron.

Prowl’s legs weaken and he braces himself on the wall, reading each word meticulously, verifying the realness of them. He leans his back into the wall then slides down to sit upon the floor.

PROWL
[Master Yoketron…is it truly you?]

MASTER YOKETRON
[Search your spark, Prowl. What does it tell you?]

Prowl drops his forehead to knees and ventilates heavily for an excruciatingly shameful moment.

PROWL
[Master…Why couldn’t I join you in the Well? Did I fail you?]

MASTER YOKETRON
[It was not your time, young one.]

Prowl lifts his head slightly, a flood of questions filling his thoughts again.

PROWL
[Was my sacrifice in vain? Too impulsive, too careless? Should I have listened to Jazz?]

MASTER YOKETRON
[Only you can answer that Prowl. I can only tell you it was not your time to enter the Well.]

PROWL
[Why not? Why did it reject me? Why was I subjected to all this humiliation and indignity?]

MASTER YOKETRON
[You were not rejected, Prowl, you were chosen. I do not expect you to understand this now, but you will.]

Prowl carefully studies the words across his visor.

PROWL
[Chosen for what? What more can I do? I’m not a Prime. I never even graduated from the academy. My spark is tainted with selfishness and pride. What use am I to anyone?]

MASTER YOKETRON
[Prowl. Even if I had answers to your questions, you cannot gain understanding from my words alone. It is not my place to reveal what you are to learn through time and experience.]

Prowl shakes his head in hopelessness and hugs his knees to his body, his head dropping again in shame.

PROWL
[I try Master, but nothing makes sense anymore. I don’t know who I can trust. I can no longer decipher my friends from my enemies.]

MASTER YOKETRON
[That is not true. You know who your friends are and you know they need you right now. Many depend on you. The girl, the bounty hunter and the Decepticon have all risked much on your behalf. Do not dishonor their faith in you.]

PROWL
[But Master…I cannot--]

MASTER YOKETRON
[You can and will. Self defeat is not in your programming…Get up, Prowl. Get up and rejoin your team.]

ELITE GUARD HEADQUARTERS - EXTREMELY UNEVENTFUL BREAKROOM

Optimus Prime, Ratchet, and Bulkhead are seated together at one of many uneventful tables, exchanging expressions of impatience, frustration and all out boredom. Bumblebee has worn a circular groove into the floor where he has skated a ridiculously huge number of laps around the room.

BUMBLEBEE
(speaking a single word each time he passes the occupied table)
This…royally…sucks…Junkion…wastevalves. Why don’t they give us an assignment?

Ratchet eyeballs the yellow bot with annoyance and resists the urge to shove a chair in the kid’s path.

RATCHET
Bellyaching about it won’t solve anything now will it! Why don’t you do something useful, like try calling Sari again.

Bumblebee screeches to a stop and taps his comm, his face a picture of rare pessimism.

BUMBLEBEE
She’s not gonna answer. She’s probably sleeping. Anyone know what time it is on Earth?

BULKHEAD
(chugging his fifth cube of military issue (low grade) energon)
Depends on where ya are little buddy. Earth is weird, it has a bunch of timezo--

BUMBLEBEE
Detroit, genius! Unless Sari has picked up and taken one of those caribou bean cruises.

RATCHET
(shaking his head)
Do you even bother to run a filter on your mouth before using it?

BUMBLEBEE
You’re one to talk!

OPTIMUS PRIME
(fed up)
Bumblebee, that’s enough!

The Autobot leader rises from his chair and falls into his autonomous habit of pacing and chin rubbing. Bumblebee bites his lip, sensing his leader’s frustration and amazingly holding back his next outburst. He rolls up behind Bulkhead, sheepishly elbowing him in the back.

BUMBLEBEE
Sorry Bulky, didn’t mean to be a jerk. (he plops down next to the lumbering mech) I’m just so slaggin bored. (looks to Optimus) Why couldn’t we go with Jazz on the ninja recon mission?

BULKHEAD
(speaking softly to his friend)
Cuz we’re not ninjas, I’m guessing.

BUMBLEBEE
(sulking)
Oh, right.

Static from Bumblebee’s comm breaks the tension in the room. Everyone looks anxiously to the yellow bot.

BUMBLEBEE
(into comm)
Sari! That you?

SARI
Bee! Omigosh omigosh you’ll never believe where I am!

Optimus approaches Bumblebee with concern, leaning over to speak into the small bot’s comm.

OPTIMUS PRIME
Sari, why haven’t you been answering your comm?

SARI
I think the transwarp energy made it go dead for a while.

BULKHEAD
Transwarp energy?

BUMBLEBEE
(concern rising)
Sari, where are you?

SARI
I’m on Cybertron!

OPTIMUS PRIME
What! Where?

SARI
(bubbling with excitement)
I’m at a night club…with Lockdown. He’s not as bad as Ratchet says. He’s actu--

RATCHET
(rises from seat, optics popped)
Lockdown!…Sari are you alright? Has he kidnapped you?

A calming, baritone voice emerges from the doorway.

PROWL
I assure you she is unharmed.

The room goes eerily silent as all eight unsuspecting blue optics lock on the unbelievable figure standing tall in the doorway. The silence is suddenly replaced with the ninja’s name shouted in unison accompanied by the sounds of shifting chairs and varying weights of footsteps clambering across the floor. Prowl grows slightly fearful by the pile driving force of Bulkhead b-lining for him but he’s unable to act before he’s engulfed in a hulking bear hug, lifting him off the ground and squeezing with a force that would be painful if it weren’t backed by so much affection. Bumblebee wraps around one of Prowl’s dangling legs and Ratchet stands back and watches the pile up with a rare, heartfelt smile.

Optimus is the last to reach the scene, hesitant to join in the mirth until he knows for sure his teammate is for real. After one final squeeze, Bulkhead drops Prowl to his feet but before the ninja can regain his composure he’s scooped up by two thick red arms and pressed into a firetruck windshield.

SARI
(from Bumblebee’s comm)
Lemme guess, Prowl just found you guys.

Optimus breaks the hug but keeps Prowl close as he grips his hands on the sides of the Samurai helmet and looks over his friend in disbelief.

Prowl, despite being overwhelmed by the barrage of affection, smiles warmly at his leader. He basks in the calming moment of hope that could only be possible with the odd collection of mechs he calls family.

OPTIMUS PRIME
But how, and when? And where did you find your helmet?

PROWL
I have had the fortune of encountering a number of unsung heroes. (raising his voice) Isn’t that right, Sari.

The Autobot leader’s optics widen as he recalls spark stinging worry. He drops his hands to Prowl’s shoulders and looks over the rest of his team.

OPTIMUS PRIME
Sari! We need to save her.

Prowl grips his prime’s arm and looks reassuringly into his optics.

PROWL
She is fine.

SARI
(still squeaking from Bumblebee’s comm)
He’s right guys. I’ve been making this crazy old mech sober up so he can drive me to Iacon.

BUMBLEBEE
I am so confused.

BULKHEAD
How did you get here Sari? And why are you--

SARI
I came to talk sense into Prowl, and it worked…well, after Lockdown gave him his helmet back. I’ll tell you the details later, right now we need to figure out how to save Cybertron from some squid things.

RATCHET
(with worry)
Squids? The Quintessons?

Everyone gathers around Bumblebee and attempts to comprehend the girl’s words. Their faces contorting in varying degrees of perplexing except for Prowl who’s fishing for a moment to speak.

SARI
Yeah that’s them. Apparently they’re pretty bad, hasn’t Prowl told you about them yet? They have some kind of nasty missile and giant invisible ship….oh, and they’ve captured the Decepticons, which I guess doesn’t make them all bad, but--

PROWL
(finally interjecting)
Sari! I’ll handle the explanation from here. Don’t worry about coming to us, we’ll come to you and make sure Lockdown doesn’t drink anymore.

SARI
He doesn’t dare, not with ME on his case. I’ll see you guys soon. I love you all and miss you, especially you Bumblebee!

BUMBLEBEE
(still gaping in disbelief)
Ditto kiddo. (the call ends and he turns to Prowl, optics widening) You left her with a drunken Decepticon!?

PROWL
He is not a Decepticon.

OPTIMUS PRIME
(now gripping Prowl’s arms desperately)
What is she talking about Prowl? What missile? What ship and--

RATCHET
And what about the Quintessons!?

PROWL
(raising his voice over the chaos)
They intend to hold the planet hostage in exchange for control of the crystal mines.

The Autobots look at each other questioningly.

BULKHEAD
(skeptical)
How do you take a planet hostage?

PROWL
With a weapon of mass destruction.

RATCHET
(doubtful)
How is it you know this but the entire Elite Guard is in the dark?

PROWL
Swindle told me. He was working for them but now he’s one of us.

Bumblebee approaches the ninja and pats his head with pity.

BUMBLEBEE
Dude, your processor is still glitching…pretty bad too.

Prowl pulls away from the prodding hand, his processor threatening to jumble up again.

PROWL
I know…it may seem that way…but it’s not…not in the way you think.

The ninja sighs, letting his body go limp, fully aware of the difficult explanation ahead of him.

PROWL
While I was on board the Death’s Head, Starscream discovered that I was cured of my organic contamination. Then, after a couple fruitless days of attempted mediation, I decided to go to Iacon, but Lockdown accosted me and gave me my helmet back, which was apparently all my processor needed to be broken of Chromia’s spell.

Optimus Prime releases the ninja and turns away pinching his brow in pure confusion.

PROWL
Look, I know it doesn’t make any sense, but I’ll explain it later. Right now we need a base-wide meeting to discuss what we’re going to do about the Quintessons.

The prime shakes his head, his expression heavy with sadness.

OPTIMUS PRIME
Prowl…(meets the ninja’s optics with concern) I can hardly call a meeting of that caliber with only your…highly unlikely testimony to go off of.

Prowl hangs his head, attempting to hide his frustrated defeat.

PROWL
I knew it…I knew you wouldn’t listen. Just…call Blackarachnia, have her explain it to you.

OPTIMUS PRIME
(not sure whether to be worried or irritated)
Blackara-- what’s she got to do with any--

Everyone is jolted as Sentinel’s voice bursts over the intercom system.

SENTINEL
Attention all Autobots! Please drop what you are doing and report to the Meeting Hall at once. An urgent matter of planetary security has been brought to our attention. It is mandatory that all Autobots attend this meeting, right now!

BUMBLEBEE
What the spark is this about?

SENTINEL
(continuing)
If anyone has any information in regard to the Quintessons, I need you to report specifically to me on the double. I repeat all Autobots…

The announcement continues but Optimus Prime and his team tune it out as they look to Prowl with an exhausting mix of emotion. Optimus falls into the ninja, trapping him in another hug. Prowl, despite his inability to move, dims his optics in relief and lets a tiny smile push out of the corner of his mouth

PROWL
(voice strained)
Then…I take it you believe me now?

OPTIMUS PRIME
(voice barely louder than a whisper)
Yes, Prowl…I‘m sorry I doubted you…and I can‘t tell you how good it feels to have you back.

PROWL
It is good to be back.

Have already squeedle-dee-dee'd (technical term) about this on FFN. So awesome! I can't wait to see what happens next!

*continues squealing like a rabid fangirl* he he he I saw you'd updated here too and couldn't help but read it again.

You nailed the angst, and when Prowl meets his team again I felt quite moved it was really sweet the way they all glomped him XD

Can't wait for next update.

YES! The 'Bots are back!
This makes me full of giddy excitement.
It's only a matter of time before Megatron, Blitz, and Lugnut decide to go and shoot up some quints or something and I can't wait!

A/N: More build up and tying off loose ends with a breeze of action.

For those unfamiliar with a Quintesson's appearance, visit TFwiki dot com and search, yes you guessed it, the name Quintessons. That page lists their what each face looks like, and supplies some awesome canon facts. Although the only canon I really draw from are the names and the fact that most Transformers hate their guts.

My apologies for sp/grammar errors in this and the next chapter. I was too impatient to wait for tEh huZband to beta read. =D

QUINTESSON WARSHIP – BRIDGE

Deliberata hovers in his captain’s chair in the center of the room. Sevax and Brinn are positioned in their respective places at the ship’s console and Swindle leans carelessly into the railing surrounding the captain’s chair. The three focus on the dealer, whose demeanor is typically pandering as he prattles on.

SWINDLE
Your plan to address the Autobots during their Independence Day festivities is brilliant. As usual, they’ll be pompously distracted in their overcharged revelries, too ignorantly buffed by their own hypocritical achievements to stop and wonder just how fragile their delusional little utopia is.

DELIBERATA
(in Judgment face)
Are you certain they will all be gathered in the main square?

SWINDLE
One-hundred percent certain. Well, all of them that matter anyway. There’s always a handful of unpatriotic rebels who either protest the holiday or avoid the hubbub altogether.

DELIBERATA
They are of no threat to us… (switching to Wisdom face). What is Chromia’s latest report? Has the Elite Guard discovered our presence yet?

SWINDLE
(his lies smooth as high grade)
No sir, they are still in the dark. Chromia said they detected the signals of the ship’s cloaking device, but they’re assuming it belongs to Lockdown’s ship.

Sevax twists around with a questioning expression on his Judgment face.

SEVAX
Who?

BRINN
(switching to Angry and snapping at Sevax)
The bounty hunter you half-wit…the one whose ship we blew up.

SEVAX
(switching to Anger face in retaliation)
How DARE you question my intelligence, especially since you rely on a pathetic Decepticon to fill your role of scientist!

BRINN
(switching to War face)
It’s call resourcefulness!

SEVAX
Or laziness! I now see why the elders dismissed you as scientific advis—

BRINN
Do not speak on matters which you’re ignorant to!

Swindle watches the catfight with a smirk but Deliberata is not amused.

DELIBERATA
(snapping to War face)
Silence you ingrates!

The two heed their leader’s request but continue to sneer their War faces at each other.

SWINDLE
(chiming in with goading intention)
Say, how come you guys never pull in resources from your home planet? Those Sharkticons would come in really handy as guards once we take the mines. Pit, I don’t even think Megatron would take on a group of them. You think you could get the elders to transport some over or are they still holding that bounty over your heads?

Deliberata averts his frustration to the dealer.

DELIBERATA
Do not try my patience, whelp! You know damn well of our situation with the elders.

SWINDLE
(playing to regretful ignorance)
Oh, that’s right, my mistake, how foolish of me. I thought maybe by now you’d have restored some alliances, but I guess that’s just wishful—

DELIBERATA
(switching to Death face and glaring hotly at the dealer)
Desist your vocalizations!

The Quintessons leader keeps his stare fixed on Swindle, reminding the dealer of the seriousness of the Death face. Swindle cowers a bit, feigning intimidation while stifling amusement at his creator’s classically disorganized methods. Deliberata switches to Judgment, allowing his internal temperature to cool a notch.

DELIBERATA
Why don’t you make yourself useful and verify the comm frequency jammer is still functioning properly.

SWINDLE
(crossing his arms in confidence)
Two steps ahead of ya there Boss. I checked it earlier…no calls coming or going from this ship or the arena that don’t originate from me. I…hope you don’t mind that I use my comm to talk with my fighters. They constantly need me to boost their confidence before matches and—

SEVAX
(interrupting the dealer with irritation)
Swindle! Your blather is useless!... (turning to his leader). Sir, isn’t it time Brinn checked on our slave and the prisoner. I am not comfortable with leaving them unattended in for extended periods of time, especially in a room unguarded by our defenses. (sliding a glare to Brinn) Perhaps if someone would’ve equipped the lab as well with—

BRINN
(anger bubbling through his War face)
Why would I equip my own laboratory with defensive weapons? And why must I personally babysit them when we have surveillance equipment?

Sevax holds tight to his War face and pulls the lab’s video feed onto their main monitor.

SEVAX
Because our slave found a way to tamper with it.

The image on the screen is not a live feed of the lab’s activity, rather a blown-up still image of a seeker’s hand with its middle talon stiffly pointing upward. Deliberata and Brinn’s optics brighten with insult while Sevax looks at the image with questioning. Swindle chuckles, slapping his hand over his mouth to quiet the burst of laughter.

SWINDLE
Nice display of Earth culture there.

SEVAX
I’m not sure what that means, but I don’t think he’s pleased with us.

BRINN
Perhaps if you hadn’t further tortured him after his arrival, he may not be so defiant.

Sevax switches to a wide-eyed Anger face and signals Brinn with flailing tentacles to stop speaking.

DELIBERATA
(glaring at Sevax with his Judgement face)
Further tortured? What is he talking about, Sevax?

Sevax cowers guiltily, switching to Wisdom face and attempting a sheepish grin.

SEVAX
Nothing, really…I just double-checked the functionality of his wing restraints after we put them on. You can never be too certain, besides…he needed to put be put in his place. His ego is far too--

DELIBERTA
(lecturing disdainfully)
You are a sadistic degenerate, Sevax. You very well may have jeopardized our future use of his brilliant intellect with your disgusting fetishes. One would think you’d learned after the incident with Chromia so long ago. I am amazed she agreed to work with us at all.

BRINN
(switching to Judgment face as joins in lecturing Sevax)
She probably wants back in our ranks so she can finally take her proper revenge on you.

Swindle winces at the rehashing of the horrendous actions performed on his old partner. He questions why she would so easily agree to work for these monsters again, but then it dawns on him. She played him, just like she plays everybody. She never intended to join them but saw an opportunity ripe for strategically playing all the fields…clever little brat. The dealer can only imagine the scrap storm he has to look forward with her. Prowl has no doubt addressed his grudge against her, which means the cat’s out of the bag as far as who she now knows is responsible for blowing her cover to the ninja. Swindle decides it’s probably better, for the safety of his own precious processor that the Autobots toss her in the stockades once all this apocalyptic stuff has blown over…if it blows over.

DELIBERATA
Enough pointless discussion on the matter. Brinn, go check on the Decepticons and see to it the lab’s surveillance is restored to proper working order.

Brinn reluctantly nods and floats his way across the bridge toward the doors, avoiding the pompous smirk Sevax was tossing him. Swindle peels himself off the railing and follows Brinn.

SWINDLE
If you don’t mind, I’d like to join you.

Brinn looks over his lack of shoulder, eyeballing the dealer skeptically.

BRINN
What for!? You’ll only infuriate them with your traitorous presence and I refuse to get stuck in the middle of a brawl.

They exit the bridge, door hissing behind them and make their way down the corridor to the elevator.

SWINDLE
(aloof)
Grow a pair will ya. Everyone needs a good brawlin’ once in a while.

Brinn halts and switches to Angry face, shock and insult brightening his optics.

SWINDLE
(stops and looks back with a huge grin)
It was a joke, ya ol’eggheaded sourpuss. Geez, learn to lighten up.

They enter the elevator, Brinn still huffing with his Anger face and Swindle still smiling satisfactorily. The dealer casually lifts his hand to discretely tap his comm.

QUINTESSON SHIP – LABORATORY

Starscream is stationed at the converter, next to him is a small stack of energon cubes. Blackarachnia sits at the table filling yet another empty cube with her spider webbing, her body a picture of exhaustion.

BLACKARACHNIA
(wearily)
How much more do you need to transmute to appear convincing? I’m running out of steam.

Starscream pulls a filled cube from the machine and adds it to the stack.

STARSCREAM
(sarcastic –as always)
Would you rather I use your body?

The spider’s optics widen at the suggestion and she forces herself not to be intrigued by a possible second meaning.

BLACKARACHNIA
(playing insulted)
You…shouldn’t even joke about that!

She brings the cube to her peculiar partner, placing it in his talons without meeting his optics then retreating back to her table to fill another cube. Starscream watches her curiously, surprised his sarcasm didn’t earn him another slap across the face.

STARSCREAM
If you’re tired, drink some energon.

She shakes her head in annoyed confusion.

BLACKARACHNIA
But…won’t that defeat the purpose of what we’re doing? (she looks at him, her four optics refreshing as her processor spins) What’s the point of draining my energy filling these cube if I just end up drinking the energon? Sounds like a waste of All Spark power to me.

Starscream rolls his optics and tosses her a full cube, which she catches clumsily.

STARSCREAM
If you’re tired, then drink. And don’t bother filling anymore…we have enough to prove the thing works. You’ll need your strength.

Blackarachnia doesn’t hesitate to sip from the cube, her optics dimming in pleasure at the smooth taste.

BLACKARACHNIA
(voice soft as she feels the energon course through her)
What about you? You need to refuel too.

STARSCREAM
(flipping switches and turning nobs, with a light smirk)
So you plan on drinking that entire cube yourself? A little selfish don’t you think?

Her optics illuminate as she’s mid-gulp and she yanks the cube from her lips, pink liquid trailing down her chin. She holds the cube up and studies the liquid’s level, wincing slightly that she drank more than half. She slumps her shoulders guiltily then gives Starscream her most apologetic face.

BLACKARACHNIA
Slaggit Starscream, why didn’t you say something before I…

STARSCREAM
(looking over his shoulder with a playful smile)
Before you what? Made a glutton of yourself?...Oh, I don’t know…I just thought you’d think of someone other than yourse—

Starscream’s teasing is interrupted by a silent comm message.

SWINDLE
[incoming Brinn. You guys ready?]

Starscream scurries to the table, grabbing the cube and downing the energon in one shot, spilling some down his cockpit. He slams the cube down, his focus whipping to the door. The spider watches him questioningly.

BLACKARACHNIA
(with a raised brow)
That was…abrupt.

Starscream snaps his hand to her mouth, shushing her while still focusing on the door.

STARSCREAM
They’re coming. (turns to her and grabs her arms, looking earnestly into her wide optics) Are you ready for this? We need to act quickly.

She peers around his head as the sound of Swindle’s muffled voice draws closer.

BLACKARACHNIA
(meeting his optics again)
Yes, I’m ready…are YOU ready?

Starscream releases her and points toward the door.

STARSCREAM
Of course I am. Stand over there. (she rises and glides toward the door, her ventilation rate increasing slightly) As soon as they enter you attack. DON’T hesitate or we’ll lose the element of surprise.

BLACKARACHNIA
(with a snooty sneer)
I know how an ambush works.

Starscream moves to the other side of the door just as it hisses open to reveal Swindle and Brinn. The instant the two step in, Starscream snatches Swindle away from Quintesson and Blackarachnia pounces on him, impaling him with her stingers. Brinn shrieks then immediately collapses, his levitation giving out which sends him to the floor with a thud. His egg-shape body rolls slightly as the spider stands over his pathetic tangle of limp tentacles.

SWINDLE
(impressed)
Nice pounce, sweethear—

BLACKARACHNIA
(with a heated hiss)
Shut it! I’m not through being mad at you!

Starscream pulls Prowl’s hologram mod from his cockpit and quickly scans the unconscious alien. He’s about to fasten the mod to his chest when a realization hits him, leaving his expression awash in worry.

STARSCREAM
(looking to the spider)
We should disguise you instead, make you look like me and I’ll just seek out the WMD without a disguise.

BLACKARACHNIA
(disapproving)
What? (straightens up from her lingering attack posture and meets Starscream’s optics with equal concern) No. If they catch you snooping around their weapon, they’ll…

STARSCREAM
(unaffected)
They’ll throw me back in here, maybe torture me. Big deal. (he hands the mod to Swindle) I can handle their pathetic attempts of punishment. Now scan me.

Swindle shrugs obligingly and runs the scan.

STARSCREAM
Ooo, that tickles.

BLACKARACHNIA
(protesting)
No, Starscream. Absolutely not. (she snatches the mod from Swindle and attempts a scan on Brinn) You can’t take anymore torture, it’ll weaken you too much.

Starscream snatches the mod mid-scan and projects its image onto the spider. Her appearance shifts to an image of Starscream’s body with Brinn’s head.

STARSCREAM
Dammit woman! (shoves the mod back in Swindle’s hands) Scan me again!

Blackarachnia holds out her arms, her Quintesson face gawking at the blue and black masculine arms. Swindle scans the seeker again then projects the image onto her, her alien head replaced with Starscream’s.

STARSCREAM
(looking her over)
Ahh, much better…and quite handsome.

The imposter Starscream plants her hands on her hips as Swindle attaches the mod to her back.

BLACKARACHNIA
This is a waste! If one of the others come in here while you’re gone, then won’t they be suspicious that I’M not in the room?

Starscream circles her, eyeballing his own image approvingly, but slightly put off at seeing himself speak with her voice.

STARSCREAM
Wrap the squid up in your webbing and say it’s you. Say that spiders do that when they feel threatened or something like that.

BLACKARACHNIA
(turning to face him, concern in her voice)
But…if they catch you and bring you back here while I’m in disguise, then our plans will be totally blown. Look, Starscream, I appreciate the chivalry, but it’s counterproductive to our original plan.

Starscream glances to Swindle with a surprised grin.

STARSCREAM
Well then. Someone thinks pretty highly of herself.

BLACKARACHNIA
(with a frustrated sigh)
Think about it Starscream, it makes more sense if you—

Swindle reaches the supply drawer on his chest and pulls out a mod, similar in size to Prowl’s.

SWINDLE
(interrupting)
If you BOTH have one. (he scans Brinn with new mod then projects the image onto Starscream) There now, problem solved.

Both of the disguised Decepticons looks to Swindle, drop jawed.

BLACKARACHNIA
You had one all along?

STARSCREAM
Why the spark didn’t you tell us?

SWINDLE
(shrugging it off)
Because I thought you only needed one…why I would give away a perfectly good piece of merchandise—

STARSCREAM
(fed up)
Enough! (points a tentacle to his egghead) Which face am I wearing?

SWINDLE
A hostile one.

STARSCREAM
That won’t do. I need to appear calm. (he drifts over to Brinn, his red and black demonic face cringing as he analyzes his choices) Which one is calm?

SWINDLE
The one pressed into the floor.

Starscream gestures at Swindle, backing away from the alien.

STARSCREAM
Then…roll him over…scan that face.

The dealer backs up a few steps, his expression shouting nausea.

SWINDLE
I’m not touching him!

BLACKARACHNIA
Oh for spark’s sake you big protoforms! (she kicks the alien with her jetted foot so the Wisdom face is pointing upward) Scan him already, we’re wasting time. My venom’s paralysis only lasts half a mega cycle.

SWINDLE
(apprehensive)
He uh…needs to have that face active or the projected image will make it appear he’s moving around sideways.

Without a second though, Blackarachnia crouches down and grips her seeker talons over the faces, forcing the Wisdom face to the front. Starscream backs up even more, tentacles writhing as he witnesses the spectacle.

STARSCREAM
Ugghhhh, she’s touching him…and it looks like I’M touching him.

BLACKARACHNIA
Grow up! (looks to Swindle and steps away from the alien) Okay scan him.

Swindle obliges and Starscream’s Wrath face is replaced with Wisdom.

STARSCREAM
(pouting)
Why are they so ugly when they’re calm?

SWINDLE
They’re ugly no matter what mood they’re in. (He secures the mod onto Starscream’s back) Let’s go. Time is short.

They head for the door, Swindle keying in the code to open it. Starscream turns to the seeker spider, gesturing at Brinn.

STARSCREAM
Wrap him up like we discussed, and make it look like it’s your alt form underneath.

BLACKARACHNIA
I got it! (she motions to fire her webs at the alien but pauses to look to Starscream with concern, her voice softening) Be careful, okay?

Starscream nods sincerely to her and the two mechs leave the room.

A/N: So, Autobot angst is no longer on the top of my list of 'out of my comfort zone.' Cramming every Autobot know to TFA into one room with a million loose ends to tie up takes precedence.

Oh ya, and Sentinel is still a jerk. I'm sorry I wasn't creative enough to do anything different with him. =/

[this is silent commspeak]

ELITE GUARD HEADQUARTERS – MEETING HALL

The hall is massive, filled with row after row of graduated seating that encircles a center stage. Nearly all the seats are filled with Elite Guard members, from grunts fresh out of the academy to high-ranking officials. The empty seats are those normally occupied by the small band of Cyber Ninjas, who couldn’t make the meeting because they’re still out on the recon mission. Standing proud on the center stage is Sentinel Magnus, accompanied by Alpha Trion, Perceptor and a cuffed Chromia.

Optimus Prime and his team are seated together only a few rows back from the center. They focus acutely on their Magnus as the royal blue bot commands the meeting with his typical bureaucratic jargon, thanking everyone for attending and pressing the importance of the new developments. Most of the audience is on the verge of shouting ‘if it’s so urgent then get to the slaggin’ point’ but they tactfully refrain, some finding it harder than others. Optimus eyeballs the fidgety yellow bot seated next to him.

BUMBLEBEE
(whispering through clamped teeth)
Dying here, Bossbot…when’s he gonna cut the crap and make the announcement?

OPTIMUS PRIME
(whispering in his calming leader tone)
This is how it works here, Bumblebee. You get used to it after a while. Judging by his uncomfortable shift of stance, I’d venture to guess he’s about to wrap up the preliminaries and finally address some important issues.

The Magnus finishes his last pre-scripted thought then turns to look at Chromia, gesturing to her as if to put her on display for the large gathering of questioning optics.

SENTINEL MAGNUS
Now! Onto more important issues. (he sneers at Chromia, still hung up on his disgust at her betrayal) Agent Chromia, or rather DOUBLE Agent Chromia here has been working for the Decepticons. It seems treachery has become the latest fad among our Intelligence officers.

There’s a wave of mumbles across the audience and an array of mixed expressions from shock to confusion to anger. Chromia tries to ignore the many disapproving stares on her and takes a deep inhaling ventilation as she holds her head high, attention disdainfully locked on Sentinel’s glare.

SENTINEL MAGNUS
Under normal circumstances, she would be thrown into the stockades and await trial, but unfortunately, events on Cybertron as of late haven’t been normal. We have learned of a Quintesson presence in Kaon, one that is potentially threatening.

The crowd reacts with more gasps and the mumbling grows louder.

SENTINEL MAGNUS
Please, hear me out before you jump to any conclusions. We have the situation under control.

Optimus’s team look at each other in doubt, shaking their head at the Magnus’s obvious stretching of the truth.

SENTINEL MAGNUS
Agent Chromia here has a unique history with the despicable aliens and I would like you to give her your undivided attention while she explains, in detail, just who these Quintessons are and what impact their race has on our current society.

Chromia resists the urge roll her optics, internally cursing the clueless Magnus for his inappropriately scholastic introduction to their apocalyptic situation. The Autobots don’t need a lecture on anthropology, they need a wake-up call to the frailty of their precious little utopia. A side of her is almost grateful for the squid threat. It’s slowly bridging the gap between the factions. Despite the humiliation of appearing in cuffs before all her peers, she feels a sense of pride to be an instrumental role of these potentially history-making turn of events. She ventures to label this feeling with nobility but decides that might be pushing it. With another ventilation, she readies herself to speak, but a private comm message appears before she can open her mouth.

PROWL
[Do not mention Starscream as an ally. Tell them Blackarachnia is our spy.]

She bitterly eyeballs the blue optic visor staring at her across the room.

CHROMIA
[Why?]

PROWL
[Which one of them are you more inclined to trust?]

Her expression softens as she yields a slight nod to her old flame.

CHROMIA
[Good point.]

SENTINEL MAGNUS
(impatiently tapping his foot as he holds his glare on the femme)
Feel free to speak whenever you’re ready, Agent Chromia.

CHROMIA
(ignoring Sentinel and turning to address the crowd)
When your Magnus speaks of Quintessons, I don’t think he realizes which Quintessons we’re dealing with here.

SENTINEL MAGNUS
What? What are you talking about? You said the Quintessons have a weapon of mass destruction. You didn’t what kind of Quin--

The room fills with more gasps and mumbles, cutting the Magnus off he realizes the news he just tactlessly spewed forth. Optimus and Prowl both drops their head into their hands.

CHROMIA
(rolling her optics)
Good one, chief.

SENTINEL MAGNUS
(addressing the crowd with some backpeddling)
Calm down everyone, please…there’s no need to panic. We haven’t received any official threats yet, all we know for certain is that they are in Kaon, hiding out in a cloaked warship.

More gasps and mumbles at the mention of a warship.

Cliffjumper rises from his seat, his attitude typically brash and straight to the point.

CLIFFJUMPER
Sir, with all due respect, if the squids have a WMD, how is it we’re ‘in control of the situation’?

SENTINEL MAGNUS
(snapping with insult)
Mind your rank, soldier! Remember who it is you’re speaking to.

Rodimus stands up next to his small, scrappy soldier.

RODIMUS PRIME
Magnus, sir, could you please answer his question.

SENTINEL MAGNUS
You mind your rank as well, Rodimu—

Alpha Trion steps forward, placing a firm hand Sentinel’s shoulder and speaking only in earshot of him.

ALPHA TRION
Answer the question, Magnus. Your soldiers have a right to know what we know.

SENTINEL MAGNUS
(responding quietly but defiantly to the old bot)
But we don’t know for sure. Nothing official has been confirmed. All we have to go on is Chromia’s unreliable testimony.

Several more Autobots rise from the crowd, all repeating Rodimus’s words ‘answer the question.’

Sentinel looks over the disorder with worry and cowardice.

SENTINEL MAGNUS
Everybody calm down…the WMD threat is only a rumor.

CHROMIA
(speaking loud, intentionally putting the spotlight on the Magnus)
It’s not a rumor! Why don’t you tell them!? Isn’t that the whole reason you called this meeting?

SENTINEL MAGNUS
(stubbornly maintains a fake sense of control)
We have no proof of its existence yet. And I called this meeting simply to discuss the Quintesson presence on this planet, not to plant seeds of widespread panic.

Prowl can’t take anymore and, to his complete surprise, finds himself rising from his seat.

PROWL
(shouting over the rising hysteria)
There will be much more to panic about if all of Iacon is to learn of the impending danger by the enemy themself, rather than their own Magnus!

The crowd quiets down, all optics locked on the improbably bot.

PROWL
(continuing with questionable confidence)
The Quintessons are planning to unveil themselves tomorrow. They intend to mock our celebration of freedom by announcing the reality that they, indeed, have a WMD missile pointed directly at the city and that they intend to use it if we don’t surrender control of the mines to them.

The silence hangs in the room. Everybot swears they can hear the fear building in each other’s sparks.

SENTINEL MAGNUS
(snapping at Prowl, unconvinced)
Where do you get your information, ninjabot?

Optimus Prime rises up, his form towering over the ninja yet exuding an air of confidence for his friend.

OPTIMUS PRIME
We have a reliable source on board the Quintesson ship.

SENTINEL MAGNUS
(shouting in skepticism)
A reliable source? What the frag is that supposed to mean, Optimus?

Before Optimus can defensively retort, a series of canon blasts erupts from the ceiling. Everyone snaps their attention up to witness in shock as a portion of the domed ceiling blazes red hot then finally disintegrates to reveal a gaping hole. Sentinel equips his shield and corrals Alpha Trion, Perceptor and Chromia to stand behind him. The sounds of every other Autobot unsheathing their weapons sweeps across the room.

The smoke is too dense to see what is responsible for attack, but the mystery is solved when a black fusion cannon falls through the chaos and lands directly in front of the Magnus’s feet. Chromia gasps, knowing exactly who that signature weapon belongs to, as does Optimus and his team. They look up and watch with wondering as the infamous Decepticon leader hovers down, his spinning rotors sending severe wind gusts throughout the room.

SENTINEL MAGNUS
Autobots! Ready your weapons and attack on my mark!

Chromia steps out from behind the Magnus’s shield, her cuffed hands held out in protest.

CHROMIA
No wait!

Megatron transforms and touches confidently down in the center of the room, his hands held out in a peaceful gesture of surrender.

SENTINEL
(grinding his teeth fearfully)
Ready…

Chromia studies every inch of her muse with awe and immediately notices his injured leg.

CHROMIA
(pleading to Sentinel)
Please, don’t attack him…Look at him! He’s disarmed himself…he never does that! And he’s injured…He hasn’t come here to fight!

Megatron glances gratefully to the femme then furrows his brow at the sight of her cuffs. He limps over to her and lifts her hands by the cuffs with a single, powerful finger.

MEGATRON
(speaking quietly to her)
What is this?

She can only shrug in shame, too intimidated to speak.

Sentinel has never faced the tyrant before when he wasn’t incapacitated from stasis cuffs and regretfully finds himself frozen, hiding with the other council members behind his shield, which has expanded to it maximum circumference.

Megatron can sense the pathetic Autobot commander’s cowardice and doesn’t feel the need to even look his direction. He breaks the link between Chromia’s cuffs with an effortless pinch and she nearly collapses into a pile of enamored goo. He then turns his focus away to pan across the room, searching for a more dignified recipient of his attention then the shuddering mech bearing the title Magnus. He locks optics to Optimus Prime and, with surprising dignity, limps across the floor to approach his familiar foe.

MEGATRON
The femme speaks the truth. My intentions are not hostile.

Rodimus is not one to be easily intimidated and he leaves his seat, walking confidently toward the tyrant.

RODIMUS PRIME
Then why did you blast a hole in our roof?

Megatron looks over his shoulder to the source of the annoyance.

MEGATRON
Because I highly doubt you would have let me in the front door.

Sentinel drudges enough courage to speak now that the Decepticon’s attention is directed elsewhere.

SENTINEL MAGNUS
H—How did you get past Fortress Maximus’s security parameter?

MEGATRON
I flew, now are there anymore useless questions or do you wish know why I am here?

SENTINEL MAGNUS
(under his breath)
B—but that doesn’t…how did he.

PERCEPTOR
(from behind Sentinel’s shoulder, speaking in antique robotic voice)
There is no one currently manning Fortress Maximus’s defenses. All of our forces are in this room right now.

Alpha Trion fearlessly steps out from behind Sentinel’s shield, his attention directed at Megatron.

ALPHA TRION
I know why you are here. (he pauses to look out over the crowd then raises his voice) Stow your weapons fellow Autobots. There is no need for them now.

Sentinel winces doubtfully at the old bot’s suggestion and holds fast to his lance and shield.

ALPHA TRION
(gestures respectfully to Prowl)
If this brave young soldier’s testimony is correct…and I believe it is, then the enemy is not standing before us now.

Optimus stands tall from his elevated position in the third row, looking down on Megatron, but unlike their previous confrontations, he doesn’t feel fear, loathing or pity. The Decepticon returns his gaze with enough alteration of his typically stoic face to convey the desperation he is feeling. The prime’s spark suppresses the justifiable grudges he should feel for this mech and instead fills him with empathy and an odd sense of connection. They have every right to be enemies, their opinions toward Cybertron’s future different as day from night; accept for one aspect. Cybertron’s future did not belong in the tentacles of alien race.

Optimus retracts the handle to his axe then replaces it upon his back. His signals his crew to put their weapons away and, after a moment of apprehension, they do obligingly. A few Autobots surrounding them follow suit and this triggers a slow, reactive wave of disarming across the room. Within less than a cycle, the entire room, outside the Magus, has stowed their weapon and a strange, optimistic calm fills the air.

Megatron pans his attention across the room, fighting to suppress the awe he’s feeling from showing through his face. He knows the Autobots rely heavily on teamwork; this is the reason he came to them for help, but he doesn’t realize until this moment just how bonded in brotherhood they really are. He shifts uneasily at the hint of envy pinging his spark.

Alpha Trion kneels down and picks up the fusion cannon at his feet. He glides over to Megatron and hands the weapon to him with a firm but accepting nod.

ALPHA TRION
We have been united by a common foe.

Megatron accepts the offering, returning the gesture with the slightest of nods then attaches the weapon to its rightful position on his arm.

MEGATRON
(respectfully)
Indeed we have.

The ancient Autobot steps aside, offering the center stage to the Decepticon.

MEGATRON
Thank you Alpha Trion. Your trust will not be forgotten. (raises his voice to address the masses) I assume this meeting was assembled to discuss the Quintesson threat?

ALPHA TRION
That is correct.

MEGATRON
Then you are aware of their destructive capabilities and lust for our mines?

ALPHA TRION
Yes, and we know they intend announce their terms tomorrow during out holiday celebration.

MEGATRON
(with a sneer)
How predictably overdramatic. (raising his voice again) How did you learn of this?

Optimus Prime works his way down to the main floor and approaches Megatron.

OPTIMUS PRIME
From Blackarachnia.

The Decepticon turns to face the prime but stumbles slightly as his injured leg buckles. He immediately regains his composure, attempting to play off his weakened state.

MEGATRON
How is this possible? She is a prisoner on their ship.

Optimus didn’t miss a beat. He reaches over his shoulder, pulling his axe out once again, and extending the handle to its maximum length. He holds it out vertically to Megatron, nodding his head at the mech’s wounded leg as he does so.

OPTIMUS PRIME
She’s able use to her comm and has been communicating with Prowl.

Megatron refuses the Autobot’s makeshift crutch and furrows his brow in confusion at the new information presented to him.

MEGATRON
What kind of ignorance allows their prisoner to communicate with the outside world? How do we know she’s not misleading your ninjabot.

PROWL
(speaking out from across the room)
Because she has help…from Swindle.

Megatron glances to Prowl with skepticism then focuses back on Optimus Prime.

MEGATRON
Swindle cannot be trusted.

CHROMIA
(confidently)
Yes he can.

She approaches the group with apprehension in her step, but her voice is firm.

CHROMIA
He does not wish a fateful demise of this planet anymore than we do.

PROWL
I believe this to be true as well. (he joins the gathering on the floor) He has proven himself a valuable asset to us but the Quintessons believe he is still sided with them.

CHROMIA
They still believe I am their ally as well.

MEGATRON
Then it appears we are at an advantage. What else do we know of these particular Quintessons?

The room hangs in silence but several glances shift to the incalculable femme. Chromia takes her cue with pride and steps up to stand tall next to her towering commander. She wedges her shoulder under the mighty black hand, signaling the wounded gladiator to shift some weight off his leg and onto her. Megatron relents to accept the offering, lightly groaning in relief as his pain is slightly lessened.

The femme wants nothing more then to bask in what is probably the best moment of her functioning but she forces the diplomat in her to stay in the driver’s seat and shifts her attention to the masses of optics awaiting an answer from her.

CHROMIA
The three Quintessons we are dealing with are rogues. Their own race sees them as nothing but criminals and put a steep bounty on their heads long ago. Everything they have, their ship, their weapons…all stolen from Quintessa. They appear powerful up front but they are nothing without their technology. Their methods are sloppy and disorganized, but they’re too arrogant to know any different. We have a unique advantage over them (looking reverently to Megaton) especially now. Their warship cowers in comparison to the combined power of Fortress Maximus AND the Decepticon forces. If Swindle and Blackarachnia are truly capable of disarming their WMD, then we will have nothing to fear.

Alpha Trion nods approvingly to the femme.

ALPHA TRION
Well spoken, Agent Chromia…(addresses the crowd in his wise, commanding air) Does anyone else have anything more to add on the matter?

The room responds with silent head shaking and curious glances to each other.

ALPHA TRION
Then we shall now adjourn this meeting. I request everybot return to their respective posts and be doubly alert to any possible breeches of our defenses. (turns to Megatron) I require our new ally be treated by our top medics and shown the same level of respect as any fellow Autobot…(looks down to Chromia) And I would like a top notch team of Intelligence agents assembled to work closely with Agent Chromia and see to it she is able to maintain her covert status as she communicates with the enemy.

Sentinel had finally lowered his shield after receiving several disapproving glares from Optimus Prime, yet he never stowed his lance…at least not until now since he realizes Alpha Trion is looking on him disapprovingly.

ALPHA TRION
Sentinel Magus…if I am not mistaken, we have a team of cyber ninjas that may be at risk of capture.

SENTINEL MAGNUS
(optics widening)
Oh Primus that’s right! They’ve got to be nearing Kaon by now! (activates his comm) Jazz, come in!

Alpha Trion walks back over to Optimus Prime, placing a confident hand on his shoulder.

ALPHA TRION
Optimus Prime. I would like you to lead the Intelligence team and report all communication with Blackarachnia and Swindle to Perceptor for further analysis.

OPTIMUS PRIME
It would be my honor sir…however I have one request. (hesitates briefly as he feels the weight of the room’s attention on him). I fear I cannot perform at my maximum potential…(looks back over his shoulder to his mismatched comrades) unless my team is working closely by my side.

ALPHA TRION
Very well, they will join you in the Intelligence division. (turns to address the masses, one final time) Fellow Autobots! I leave you to your duties with one final thought…tomorrow is the day we celebrate our Independence. Let us not allow anyone to deny us this hard-earned right of our freedom.

The room fills with warm cheers of patriotism as the collection of soldiers stream down from the seating and funnel out the exit. Ratchet waits for some of the crowd to let up before waddling down to the main floor and approaching Megatron. With his magnifying monocle, he looks over the tyrant’s wound carefully.

RATCHET
Nuthin’ more than a quick patch job. (meets the mech’s optics) There anything else wrong with ya, besides the obvious?

MEGATRON
Yes…your superior’s final words have left me quite nauseous.

Ratchet, Prowl and Optimus all fight to stifle a smile. Bumblebee skates down to join his comrades, screeching to a stop and eager to burst with his pressing thought.

BUMBLEBEE
Phew! Here I thought I was the only one.

A/N: I got nothing...besides being a hopeless Starscream fangirl.

QUINTESSON WARSHIP – MISSILE BAY

Swindle and a disguised Starscream crouch over a seemingly impenetrable missile, looking back and forth between it and each other, their expressions (or at least Swindle’s) a portrayal of frustration. The weapon’s length is equal to the seeker’s alt mode and it’s housed in a highly secured but transparent casing. The mechs can see every detail of the menacing weapon but they are unable to access it.

SWINDLE
This (rapping lightly on the casing) is not good. If we attempt to breech this, it’ll trigger the alarms.

STARSCREAM
Can’t you open it up from the bridge controls?

SWINDLE
(sarcastically)
Sure…if they gave me the access codes and let me even go near the console.

STARSCREAM
(quick to problem solve)
What about the trigger mechanism?...(looking up to meet Swindle’s hopeless optics) Is there a way to deactivate it?

SWINDLE
(shaking his head and tapping the casing again)
Trigger’s inside.

STARSCREAM
(tentacles slamming on the floor in frustration)
Blast it! There must be something we can do.

SWINDLE
This missile, to put it in a technical term, is a bitch.

If Starscream actually was a Quintesson, his face would be switching to whichever one would respond with a look of ‘what!?”.

SWINDLE
Think of it this way. You’re at a high class joint, sipping your overpriced spritzer, minding your Ps and Qs and then, from across the room, you see this picture of beauty. The loveliest femme you’ve ever laid optics on. She’s not the like broads of Kaon who’re easily won over by a single can of low-grade, oh no. This one takes some work.

Starscream’s tentacles start twitching in impatience but he vents deeply, allowing the dealer to continue.

SWINDLE
She’s basically unapproachable, her exterior is impenetrable. She ain’t letting you anywhere close…without the right moves.

Starscream gestures his tentacles in a ‘make your point quickly’ way.

SWINDLE
(signature smile forming)
However…once you get her outta her shell, she’s vulnerable to attack. You can manipulate her any way you like.

STARSCREAM
(now fully impatient)
Is this analogy really necessary!?

SWINDLE
(shrugs)
Not really, but my point is…once this baby is cut loose, all it has to depend on is its guidance system, which SUCKS. Whoever designed this missile put top notch effort into its pre-launch state but when the time came to rig up its guidance mechanism, they must’ve been (gestures a drinking motion) hittin’ the cube a little too hard.

STARSCREAM
What are you saying? We have to launch the missile to have any chance of disarming it?

SWINDLE
Oh no, there’s no disarming after that. All I’m saying is that it can easily be redirected.

STARSCREAM
You mean hack into the control console and guide it ourselves?

SWINDLE
Nah, I mean physically redirect its trajectory.

Starscream’s reaction to this is masked by his disguise, preventing Swindle from seeing whether his explanation is sinking in.

SWINDLE
Your thrusters are more than adequate to--

STARSCREAM
THAT is not an option…and neither is launching it. It’s too risky. We need to find another way.

SWINDLE
(doubting)
I’m all audio if you can think of something.

LABORATORY

Blackarachnia, disguised as Starscream, secures the web-wrapped Quintesson in her nest in the far corner of the room. She keeps anxiously watching the door and fidgeting impatiently. Finally the door hisses open, but the Quintesson emerging from behind it is not the hologramed one she would like it to be.

Sevax enters the lab, attempting a pompous air of control. He looks upon the seeker standing over the nest and switches to a questioning Judgement face.

SEVAX
Is that the prisoner?!

Blackarachnia’s spark begins racing. She never stopped to think how she would disguise her voice but she makes her best attempt, dropping her pitch as much as possible.

BLACKARACHNIA
Um…yes.

SEVAX
(approaching the oddly timid seeker)
Why is she wrapped up? What’s wrong with her?

She steps back to a more comfortable proximity, annoyed how these aliens have no concept of personal space.

BLACKARACHNIA
(trying to play indifference with a shrug)
I’m…not really sure…it’s some sort of organic…thing.

SEVAX
(looking the seeker over skeptically)
What’s the matter with your voice? It’s lower than normal.

Blackarachnia’s not sure who that’s technically an insult to.

BLACKARACHNIA
I’m…tired?

Sevax is not convinced. He circles around the seeker, eyeballing every inch of the chassis then pulls a device from a pouch on his body.

CORRIDOR

Starscream and Swindle move briskly down the hallway, the lab’s door barely visible at the far end. Starscream suddenly shrieks and pain and stumbles, his hologram fading away and the wing restraints crackling wildly with static shocks. He falls into the wall, cringing and groaning as the assault continues. Swindle whips around to witness the writhing seeker, his optics widening as he realizes what’s happening.

SWINDLE
They know!

The static stops and Starscream drops his head in relief but remains leaning against the wall as the residual pain courses through him. Swindle wraps the seeker’s arm over his shoulder and pulls him off the wall.

SWINDLE
Come on, we gotta get to the lab.

Starscream forces his feet to stagger into a quick but limping stride as he leans into Swindle, but after only a few steps, the assault starts again. He drops to knees, doubling over and suppressing his screams behind clamped teeth.

LABORATORY

Blackarachnia, still disguised, stands motionless, watching the Quintesson slam the button on the device. He points it her, War face seething as he doesn’t get his intended reaction. It finally dawns on the spider what he’s doing and this fills her with rage. She fiercely pounces on Sevax, her hologram disappearing as her stingers impale the unsuspecting alien’s body. Sevax hollars and falls limp. She lands on top of him, fangs bared and body crouching like a feral beast.

Swindle and Starscream appear in the doorway, the dealer’s arms wrapped around the seeker and practically dragging him. Blackarachnia straightens up at the sight of this and dashes toward them, immediately helping support Starscream’s weight.

STARSCREAM
(head hung, speaking weakly)
You okay?

BLACKARACHNIA
Am I…Are you okay? What happened? Did you find the missile?

Swindle releases his hold on Starscream as the spider guides the broken body to the table.

STARSCREAM
Yes, but we couldn’t access it.

He slumps onto the stool and flops his body on the table’s surface. She keeps her arms wrapped around him and looks worriedly into his half-lit optics.

BLACKARACHNIA
Then...we’re still at square one?

STARSCREAM
Not exactly.

Swindle shuts the door and paces nervously glancing back and forth between the unconscious Quintessons, his hand fidgeting erratically.

SWINDLE
Oh boy oh boy, we’ve gotta mess on our hands. (looks to the femme) How soon before Brinn comes to?

BLACKARACHNIA
(still focused on Starscream)
Anytime now.

STARSCREAM
(barely audible)
We need a plan.

SWINDLE
(still pacing)
Oh, you think?! (approaches the table, wide purple optics fixed on the spider) Do you have some kind of amnesia venom you can inject into them?

BLACKARACHNIA
Not…exactly…but my victims usually have short term memory glitches after they wake up.

SWINDLE
(with a clap)
Perfect!

The dealer gestures to the femme to follow him as he scurries to the spider’s nest where Brinn is.

SWINDLE
Help me unwrap him…I have an idea.

She reluctantly peels herself off of Starscream and attends to the hurried untangling of her webs. Once Brinn is freed from the silk wrappings, they drag him over to Sevax. After building up the courage to touch the aliens, Swindle starts tying a few of their tentacles together. He looks up and points toward the stack of energon.

SWINDLE
Grab me one full cube and few empty ones.

The femme agreeably follows his order and fetches some cubes. Starscream snickers lightly as it becomes clear to him what Swindle is planning. He slightly raises his head from the tabletop to watch the events play out.

STARSCREAM
Brilliant…I regret that I didn’t think of it myself.

Blackarachnia hands the cubes to Swindle as the dealer stands up from his crouch and drags the pair of aliens by their knotted tentacles to the door. He keys a code into the door and it hisses open.

SWINDLE
(chuckling)
Oh ho-ho, they’re gonna feel so awkward. I wish I could I be there to watch them wake up.

STARSCREAM
Wait…before you go give us the doorcode.

Swindle glances in both directions, surveying the hallway.

SWINDLE
It changes every couple mega-cycles. I’ll comm it to ya after the next changeover.

BLACKARACHNIA
Are you coming back?

SWINDLE
Not right away. An arena match is about to start and the bosssquid will find it odd if I’m not there to announce it. (he steps into the hallway, towing the aliens behind) Comm me if you need anything.

The door hisses shut behind him. Blackarachnia turns to see Starscream painstakingly lift himself from the table and attempt to stand. She grabs a full cube and brings it to him, setting it on the table and snapping her fingers as she points to his stool.

BLACKARACHNIA
Sit. Drink. Get your strength back.

Starscream scowls with a little humility but obliges, wrapping his talons around the cube as he takes his seat.

She leans against the table looking over his wing restraints with worry.

BLACKARACHNIA
We need to get those off of you.

STARSCREAM
(finishing a sip)
No. The Quints will know something’s up.

BLACKARACHNIA
The Quints are going to know something is up when those two jerks wake up. We might as well take away the physical advantage they have over you.

STARSCREAM
If Swindle’s plan works, they’ll be too embarrassed to acknowledge anything went wrong (gestures to the door) and this entire ship is a physical disadvantage to me. Aside from this lab, they have defenses hiding in every nook and cranny, waiting to pounce at the slightest of hostile activity. (shaking his head in frustration) I swear the damn ceiling tentacles have a mind of their own.

Starscream offers her some energon but she declines with half-hearted wave. Her thoughts are obviously weighing heavy on her.

STARSCREAM
(studying her expression)
Stop that. Stop worrying...You need to contact the Autobots.

BLACKARACHNIA
(meets his stern optics with helpless expression)
What am I going to tell them?

Starscream shifts with a wince, unable to mask the discomfort of his wing restraints.

STARSCREAM
I’m…not sure yet.

BLACKARACHNIA
(lightly sarcastic)
Oh…well great.

Her focus shifts to his burdened wings again, her spark sinking in pity. She steps around his wing and positions herself behind him, studying the restraints carefully. Starscream watches her from the corner of his optics.

BLACKARACHNIA
What did you learn about the missile?

She lifts her hands to his back and begins gently kneading her fingers into the base of his wings. Starscream dims his optics and relaxes his shoulders, unable to deny the blissful relief of her touch.

STARSCREAM
You (slips a light moan)…shouldn’t do that. They may have recovered the surveillance feed of this room and…you’re not exactly behaving like a prisoner.

BLACKARACHNIA
(glances to the security cameras with disinterest)
We can just say…(with a faint, dopey smile) I developed that whole infatuation for my kidnapper thing. (shifting gears before allowing a full blush) Now…fill me in on some details. What did you guys find out?

Starscream hangs his head quietly a moment, processing her behavior questionably.

STARSCREAM
We…learned we can’t disarm it from the ship…not unless we can get access to the bridge and hack into their systems.

She slides her fingers out to his wingtips, carefully avoiding putting pressure on the restraints.

BLACKARACHNIA
That doesn’t sound too bad. Swindle could take us to the bridge and we’ll just overpower them. (puffing up a bit) I could probably take all three myself.

STARSCREAM
(tensing slightly in irritation)
But you can’t take on their defenses. We wouldn’t be able to take two steps onto that bridge without a bombardment of tentacles which, mind you, have the capability of ripping us limb from servo.

She presses his shoulder plates down, signaling him to relax. Her hands glide back down his back, her thumbs kneading into the groove between his wings.

STARSCREAM
(relaxing again)
Swindle suggested we…suggested I redirect the missile away from Cybertron.

BLACKARACHNIA
How—

STARSCREAM
(interrupting and talking quickly)
By physically hauling it away after it is launched.

The massage stops.

BLACKARACHNIA
What!? No, absolutely not!

STARSCREAM
(defensively agreeable)
That’s what I said.

BLACKARACHNIA
(anger bubbling up)
If that’s the only solution he can come up with then he’d better get a jetpack and do it himself.

She vents some hot air then resumes the massage, her touch stiffer and uneven as she chews over the new information.

BLACKARACHNIA
Is that…really possible though? Flying it away from the planet?

STARSCREAM
(lightly shrugging)
I don’t see why not…but we’d have to recruit some sorry, flight-capable sap willing to martyr himself.

BLACKARACHNIA
(brow furrowing)
Why martyr? Couldn’t it just be redirected and released?

STARSCREAM
(processes the suggestion a moment)
Possibly…but it’s risky. The direct physical contact could trigger it prematurely, which could be fatal not only for flier but for the entire planet as well.

The spider shakes her head disapprovingly, her hands coming to rest on his shoulders.

BLACKARACHNIA
(with a sigh)
There’s got to be another way.

Starscream glances over at the blue-tipped claws on his shoulder then takes her hand in his, studying it carefully.

STARSCREAM
Perhaps the Autobots will think of something.

He tugs her hand so he can look it at in better light, which pulls her body flush to his back. If the seeker’s attention weren’t locked so analytically on the fruits of his labor, he might just notice her increase of ventilation. He brushes his thumb over each of her fingertips, his head tilting in curiosity. He lightly pinches her thumb a couple times.

STARSCREAM
Does this hurt?

She shakes her head. Hurt is the last feeling his touch is drawing from her. She feels a rose-tint wash over her vision as she watches his sheered fingers skate across her new ones. Her spark flutters and her chassis warms in anticipation. Her unaltered hand twitches on his shoulder and she lets it drift to his collar. She relaxes her body with intent to lean against him in an embrace but he abruptly twists around, releasing her hand and looking her over with a quirked brow.

STARSCREAM
(small smile spreading)
So how about it?

BLACKARACHNIA
(refreshing her optics from her dreamy daze)
How…about what?

STARSCREAM
(nodding his head to the converter)
How about you make your call to the Autobots…as an Autobot.

She fully snaps out of her daze with surprise and disappointment. Squinting her optics, she glances back and forth between him and the converter.

BLACKARACHNIA
But…(searching for any excuse) the Quints will know…

STARSCREAM
Disguise yourself with a hologram.

BLACKARACHNIA
But…

STARSCREAM
(rising from the stool)
No buts. You may not get another opportunity.

He attempts to walk by her but she shoves him back down to the stool. He’s about to protest but holds back his words when he sees how desperately serious her fixed expression is on him.

BLACKARACHNIA
Do you…want me cured?

STARSCREAM
(matching her serious tone)
You know how I feel about your organic form. I don’t think it is a cure, but that’s beside the point…it doesn’t matter what I want. It’s your body.

He tries to get up again but she keeps her hands pressed to chest, holding him down. She looks over his irritated expression with trepidation, her venting clearly visible by the rise and fall of her chest.

BLACKARACHNIA
What I mean is…what form would you prefer me in?

Starscream, oddly enough, is speechless. His gaze bounces everywhere except into her optics, which are intently locked on his. His first instinct is to play clueless in order to weasel out of the awkwardness but his respect for her prevents him from doing that. She is fully deserving of the truth from him and as far as he can remember, he has been nothing but truthful with her since she resurrected him. He’s pleased that his extremely valid opinions concerning her organic form has sunken in, but he’s disappointed that she would put the fate of her age-old obsession into his hands; and for what? An attraction? He shifts uncomfortably as her gaze bores into him. He can feel the anticipation bleeding from her hands into his chest.

STARSCREAM
(still avoiding her optics)
It sounds as though...you have finally…decided what you want.

She steps closer to him, sliding her hip against his knee and drifting her hands up to cradle the sides of his face.

BLACKARACHNIA
(near whisper)
I have.

Starscream’s discomfiture should be speaking volumes to her but she obviously isn’t getting it. She’s probably refusing to get it, unwilling to accept another heart wrenching reality to mountain of madness that is her functioning. He can’t tell her the truth, not now, not when he needs her to be his voice to the Autobots. The truth will crush her, enrage her; render her useless and most likely hostile.

Starscream finally lifts his head to stare back at her desperate gaze, relenting to do what is best for the situation. He observes the vast contrast between her helmet and the fleshy tissues of her lips then gently lifts her helmet off, causing her to flinch timidly.

BLACKARACHNIA
Starscream don’t—

STARSCREAM
(speaking truthfully)
You organic half is…(forces the word out) beautiful. I think you should keep it.

He sets her helmet on the table then runs his talons across the arachnid features on her cheeks, teasing a whimper from her. Her optics dim and she leans her cheek into his touch, her mouth parted wantonly. With a gentle tug to her waist, he pulls her into a kiss.

Her arms immediately wrap around his neck and she presses her mouth hard into him, her body going limp by the feel of his warmth. The feel of his talons exploring the curves of her back awaken sensors she’d forgotten were there. She breaks the kiss, but only to brush her thumb over his lips and look into his optics, verifying the moment is real and not a fleeting daydream. She pushes into another kiss, pressing her body flush against his cockpit, attempting to appease the swelled pressure of her spark fighting to be near his.

She feels good, he won’t deny that. Her lips are soft and her fangs are…cute. He likes the way they scrape against his mouth but her dreamy sighs leave him uneasy. This is not the kind of treachery he’s used to; not the kind he’s remotely looking forward to facing the music on. Noble human influence or not, he isn’t fit to be anyone’s lover. What does she think he could do for her? How is it she’s so intelligent in the scientific realm yet so foolish in her regard to him. He is not the one who should hold her spark, not by a long shot. She’s much better off seeking the company of Optimus Prime.

She breaks the kiss again keeping her lips only a breath from his. Her hands trace along the sides of his helmet, taking in every curve and groove. She looks over his sharp features with a well of emotion, some of which is breaking through in the form of a tiny smile. Starscream’s optics dim and he bows his head slightly, afraid of the truth his face could convey if he keeps allowing her a full view of it. His hands are resting on her hips and his thumbs twitch nervously over her waist. His processor races for the right words to break the moment but still keep her blissfully oblivious. He opens his mouth to speak but nothing comes out. He wishes she would say something instead of intimately fixating on him, but she can only speak with her touch. Her fingers explore his cheeks, his chin, his lips, her touch pouring with intense adoration, which only build on his awkwardness and shame. He finally illuminates his optics and lifts his head, rearing up to say…anything, but fate spared him the burden and the spider’s comm buzzed the moment back into a workable reality for him.

SHOCKWAVE
(via her comm)
Blackarachnia, this is Shockwave. Is it safe for you to communicate?

The spider refreshes her optics in surprise; the intel bot’s droning vocals chasing away her euphoria.

BLACKARACHNIA
Um…yes, Shockwave. It’s safe.

She drops her gaze from the seeker and drifts her hands down to rest on his legs.

BLACKARACHNIA
Swindle is keeping the comm lines open under the radar of the Quints.

Starscream rises from the stool and slips out of her touch. He walks slowly to the converter and pretends to address some important task of reading gauges and adjusting settings.

SHOCKWAVE
I am pleased to hear he can be depended on. Are you aware of Megatron’s current situation?

Starscream freezes and looks over his shoulder at the spider. She returns his questioning look and takes a seat on the stool.

BLACKARACHNIA
Didn’t he…lock himself away in the basement?

She lifts her helmet from the table and replaces it upon her head.

SHOCKWAVE
Not anymore. He has allied with the Autobots in hopes to unite our forces in a strike against the Quintessons.

BLACKARACHNIA
(disbelieving)
He…

Starscream chews over this information, his brow furrowing with doubt.

SHOCKWAVE
He is now operating from the Elite Guard Intelligence division.

BLACKARACHNIA
How did he escape the arena? I thought the Quints had you guys on lockdown?

SHOCKWAVE
Strategic diversions, which I do not have time to explain at the moment. Where is Starscream? Have you been in contact with him?

Before she can answer she looks to Starscream, who abruptly shakes his head and signals her not to mention him. She responds with a silent but frustrated shrug of “why the scrap not?” but he holds fast to his decision, continuing to shake his head.

BLACKARACHNIA
No, he’s…in another part of the ship.

SHOCKWAVE
Then I assume he hasn't harvested your organic components for conversion yet?

She continues to silently communicate her disapproval to the seeker.

BLACKARACHNIA
That’s right…I’m still in one piece.

SHOCKWAVE
I am amazed you're willing to collaborate with Swindle after his role in your kidnapping.

BLACKARACHNIA
(shrugging)
We work with what we're given.

Starscream shoots her a silent comm message.

STARSCREAM
[Ask about this “strike”]

BLACKARACHNIA
What do you know about this alleged strike? Are the Autobots aware of the WMD?

SHOCKWAVE
Yes. According to Megatron, they are fully aware of the volatility of the situation and are still in planning stages of the appropriate measures to take. All I know so far is that they have positioned their cyber ninjas in an undisclosed facility near Kaon.

STARSCREAM
(rubbing his chin with scheming as whispers to himself)
A stealthy approach…(nods in approval) I can work with that.

BLACKARACHNIA
Which facility?

SHOCKWAVE
I do not know. That is all the information I have. I suggest you contact Megatron or the Autobots and inform them on the details of the WMD…that is if you have any.

BLACKARACHINIA
We have a little.

SHOCKWAVE
We?

BLACKARACHNIA
(tensing a bit)
Sss--Swindle and I.

SHOCKWAVE
Of course. Very well then, I shall leave you to your task. Do not, under any circumstances, make it known to the Quintessons or to Starscream that you are communicating to the outside. Shockwave out.

Starscream shakes his head and rolls his optics.

STARSCREAM
As if you were going to. That fool has really let his SIC position go to his head.

The spider raises her brow to the seeker, but he ignores her acknowledgement of his hypocrisy and points at the cube on the table.

STARSCREAM
Do you have the energy to fill that up with webbing?

Despite his emotionless tone, she smiles softly at him and looks him over with a tilt of her head.

BLACKARACHNIA
Yes. I feel...good.

STARSCREAM
Alright, but don’t do it yet. Contact the Autobots, specifically Prowl. I want to know more about this stealth mission.

BLACKARACHNIA
Okay.

STARSCREAM
No, wait. I'll call Prowl. You get in touch with Optimus Prime. Tell him what we know about the missile.

Her smile fades as his voice remains cold and distant.

BLACKARACHNIA
Sure. (she bows her head and taps her comm on, her voice soft) Whatever you say.

"SWINDLE
This missile, to put it in a technical term, is a bitch."

All I have to say is Swindle FTW!

I love this! If TFA had continued for another season, I could definitely see all this happenin. You must keep going, this story is awesome. And I like how you put it in a script like format, its an interesting and different way to read a story.

A/N: As fun a fangirly kissy kissy scenes are, I felt it high time this story had a car chase. I mean, they are AUTObots after all. ^_~

ELITE GUARD HEADQUARTERS - MEDBAY

Megatron lay flat on his back on a berth barely adequate to support his mass. His face is picture of frustrated impatience as Ratchet tends to the injury on his leg. The humbled gladiator's optics are locked disdainfully on an image of a serene Cybertronian landscape tacked to the ceiling above him. Red Alert stands a safe distance from the patient holding a tray of instruments barely within Ratchet's reach. There are several armed guards standing tall on either ends of the room, all doing their best to appear aloof.

The medic is the only Autobot in the room who isn't stiff with intimidation. This isn't the first time he's tended to a Decepticon's wounds. This may not be the average Decepticon soldier wounded on the battlefront, but Ratchet sees no need to make a fuss. What good would that do? Megatron's not misbehaving. Perhaps if the tyrant started unleashing bloody murder with his fusion cannon shouting 'all will perish in the name of Decepticons,” then a fuss would be in order, but that wasn't going to happen. Not now anyway.

RATCHET
You say the squid ship did this to ya?

MEGATRON
That is correct.

RATCHET
And that's how they're keeping the other 'cons prisoner? With this...(voice slides into skepticism) laser beam?

Megatron turns slowly to shift his disdain toward the medic.

MEGATRON
Do not undermine their power. A Quintesson warship's weapons are eons ahead of Cybertronian technology.

RATCHET
(brushing him off)
Yeah, yeah, heard it all before.

The medic reaches to his arm's limit to swap out a surgical tool from the tray, giving Red Alert a dirty look for behaving so cowardly toward his patient.

RATCHET
So their keeping all of Kaon hostage in the arena, yet the fights are still goin' on?

MEGATRON
No, only my soldiers are prisoners. The populace of Kaon are a bunch of slovenly drunkards who care for nothing beyond their own pathetic overcharged existence. They couldn't pose a threat to a petrorabbit and are therefore of no concern to the Quintessons. They are free to move about the city at their leisure. The Quintessons do not track their whereabouts.

RATCHET
(looking at Megatron in confusion)
Then how in scrap did you escape? They mistake ya for a drunk?

MEGATRON
I do not appreciate your attitude, Autobot.

RATCHET
(crossing his arms)
Oh really...Well, I'll have you know this attitude could sever your leg with one cut, so I suggest you--

Ratchet cuts himself off as an idea pings his processor.

MEGATRON
(brow raised in annoyance)
Suggest I what?

RATCHET
You say they let the citizens of Kaon move about freely?

MEGATRON
(irritation rising)
Are your audios failing you? Yes, that is what I--

RATCHET
Then what's to stop our ninjas from disguisin' themselves and waltzin' right on into the city?

MEGATRON
Getting in and out of the city is not the hard part. It is getting aboard the ship without being detected AND bypassing all of their onboard defenses without provoking an itchy trigger tentacle to press the launch button.

Ratchet taps his chin and contorts his face as his processor grinds through some scheming.

MEGATRON
(gaze shifts back to the ceiling poster)
IF your ninjas could board the ship undetected and IF they could bypass the ship's onboard defenses, which I assure you is not a simple task, then they would have no problem overpowering the aliens themselves. They are weak and pitiful when stripped of their weapons and there are only three of them (fists clenching upon the berth) and one traitor.

RATCHET
I think we may just be on to somethin' here. (taps his comm) Ratchet to Prime, come in.

ELITE GUARD INTELLIGENCE HUB

Optimus Prime stands center stage, looking over what remains of his team (Bumblebee and Bulkhead) who're sitting along the massive span of computer consoles, diligently tapping away at the keypads. Perceptor is seated a short distance down from Bumblebee, meticulously analyzing some reports. The room is littered with monitors of various sizes, some displaying maps of Cybertron, others filled with the images Elite Guard members who blink in and out as calls come and go. Chromia is stationed at her former desk, two guards standing erect on either side of her. Her monitor is filled with a live feed of the Medbay which she watches with doting optics.

OPTIMUS PRIME
(answering his comm)
Go ahead Ratchet.

RATCHET
I believe we have the makin’s of a plan.

OPTIMUS PRIME
Who's we? You and Megatron?

RATCHET
(talking quickly)
Yes, me and Megatron, now listen up. We need to rally the ninjas together with our best strategists.

The prime’s processor picks up its pace in attempt to piece together what his trusted medic is plotting.

OPTIMUS PRIME
(looking to Chromia)
Who're our best strategists?

She points to Perceptor without taking her eyes off the monitor.

CHROMIA
The ninjas are too.

OPTIMUS PRIME
(with an approving nod)
That's...handy. (into comm) Most of them are already rallied at Blaster and Vibe's Night Club and Prowl's on his way there as we speak. (turns to Bumblebee) Bumblebee, patch Ratchet through onto the main feed, and get Jazz on the comm as well.

BUMBLEBEE
(with a salute)
Yessir bossbot.

Bumblebee fidgets questionably with some buttons but manages to successfully bring up the medibot's and Jazz's audio feed.

BULKHEAD
(chiming in with a little regret)
Um...Shouldn't we get Sentinel involved too?

Chromia peeks out from behind her monitor, shaking her head in protest.

CHROMIA
No, absolutely not. He'll only hinder the discussion. Contact him after we lay down some solid plans.

Prime, Bulkhead and Bumblebee all look to her with suspicion.

PERCEPTOR
(not bothering to look up from his data analyzing)
Agent Chromia is correct. Let us hear what the medibot has to say then we will relay it to Sentinel Magnus and Alpha Trion.

JAZZ
(via comm)
What's the word boss? You got a gig for us or what?

OPTIMUS PRIME
Working on it. Go ahead Ratchet.

RATCHET
(via comm)
Jazz, are you and your team equipped with cloaking devices and energy signal dampeners?

JAZZ
Yes doc, we are fully pimped with the latest mods.

RATCHET
How about rocket boosters?

JAZZ
That's...a no go. Only Prowl's sportin' those. Hey, was it just rumors buzzin' me or is that cat back and groovin' on our airwaves?

Chromia ducks discretely behind her monitor.

BUMBLEBEE
(excited)
He's back! Like, totally back! And he's on his way to you.

JAZZ
(his voice projecting his unseen smile)
Solid.

Megatron's voice can be heard murmuring through Ratchet's comm and the medibot mumbles back to him. The entire intelligence room hangs in silence trying to decipher their conversation. Chromia taps a few commands into her console and third audio feed is added to the mix.

CHROMIA
(casually)
Megatron's on comm.

RATCHET
Sorry about that...alright, according to Megatron, the Quintessons have a transporter aboard their ship. They're able to "beam" bots up from the arena.

Bulkhead perks up as the area of his expertise is mentioned.

BULKHEAD
(raising his massive arm apprehensively)
Permission to speak bossbot.

OPTIMUS PRIME
Of course Bulkhead.

BULKHEAD
Um...if they can "beam" then they can transwarp as well, which means we might be able to hack into their system from our transwarp network.

Bumblebee shoots his comrade a thumbs up and nod of approval.

MEGATRON
If you, Autobot Bulkhead, are as gifted in transwarp technology as I remember, then you are capable of performing this "hack"?

Bulkhead’s optics refresh in stupefied disbelief at unsuspected flattery and looks to Optimus for reassurance. The prime gives his prided spacebridge technician an encouraging nod.

OPTIMUS PRIME
(speaking softly with a smile)
Go ahead, answer him.

BULKHEAD
Uh...yeah, well...no, I mean...

Bumblebee facepalms.

BULKHEAD
(continuing with a little more confidence)
I could...if I could get the coordinates of their transporter and plug it into our system, then I could bypass their direct control of it and access it remotely...once I hack through their firewalls that is.

OPTIMUS PRIME
Who has access to those coordinates?

CHROMIA
Swindle does.

OPTIMUS PRIME
(speaking to Bulkhead)
And that's all you need to be able to transport the ninjas onto their ship?

BULKHEAD
Yes...but there's hang up. The ninjas' mods won't function properly if exposed to transwarp energy, so they would be detectable by surveillance the instant they warp onto the ship.

MEGATRON
Then we need to distract them from their monitoring.

CHROMIA
(eagerly)
I can do that. (she rises from her seat, her interest in the discussion finally piqued) I can call them on their main comm and use some delicately selected conversation to rile them up and get them arguing amongst themselves. Two of them are tirelessly at each other's throats and it takes very little provoking to set them off.

MEGATRON
(bitterly sarcastic)
Doesn't THAT sound familiar. (raising his voice) What about the third, the leader? I presume he isn't so easily played.

CHROMIA
(shrinking slightly)
Deliberata typically doesn't bother with surveillance duties, so we'll just have to hope he's true to form during my call.

OPTIMUS PRIME
(rubbing his chin in doubt)
I won't risk the safety of our ninjas on a fleeting hope. We need a smooth plan. (lifts a stern look to the femme) Is there a more concrete way of guaranteeing they won't be detected?

CHROMIA
(with a slight shrug)
I'll talk to Swindle...see what he can do.

BUMBLEBEE
(doubting)
We're putting a lot of responsibility on the planet's most well-known double-crosser.

MEGATRON
(more bitterness)
Second most well-known.

BUMBLEBEE
Whatever...I don't like it.

OPTIMUS PRIME

We work with what we're given, Bumblebee. (lifts his voice) Jazz, do you copy all this?

JAZZ
Loud and clear, boss. You want I should kick the plans down to my crew, start preppin' em for the shindig of subtlety?

OPTIMUS PRIME
Yes, but make sure you stay put and out of harm's way until we have a solid plan. I can't have you going near Kaon and risking detection by the Quintessons.

JAZZ
I dig...just need to wrap up some riff raff out here, then we'll await your word. Jazz out.

Bumblebee twists around looking to his leader with a dawning, worrisome thought.

BUMBLEBEE
Riff raff? What's he talking about? Are the ninjas at the B&V?

OPTIMUS PRIME
That's right.

BUMBLEBEE
Isn't that where Sari is...with Lockdown?

OPTIMUS PRIME
Yes, Bumblebee...what're you sayi-- (his optics pop wide) Oh slag.

HIGHWAY CONNECTING IACON TO KAON

Prowl cruises down the highway, quickly but without urgency. Despite the chaos of recent events, he was strangely at peace and enjoying the nostalgic rush of his home planet's atmosphere as it skated along his chassis. He basks in the residual high still lingering from reuniting with his team and his master, not to mention the sheer unlikeliness of a cross-faction alliance.

There was still so much he didn't understand about how and why he was chosen to hold the trust of so many. He would like to retreat to a marathon of meditation to sort out the details of it all, but such luxuries are not feasible now. Sari is waiting for him and so is Lockdown, a bizarre but very real situation that requires his attention. Primus only knows how they fared in each other’s company over the last few megacycles. A part of him wishes he could've watched their interactions. Sari would have undoubtedly vocalized her disapproval at each one of Lockdown's character flaws, and Lockdown --unexplainably compliant Lockdown-- would most likely retort with simple sarcasm and that aggravating grin.

Prowl nearly smiles at the imagery, but it's quickly stifled when he recalls Lockdown's past sin that took everything from his so long ago. He should be vengeful and grudging but can't erase Master Yoketron's recent words from his mind. Yoketron specifically mentioned Lockdown in their brief conversation, but he did so without grudge. Why would he do that? Why would he disregard such an intolerable act? Yoketron was...is not a defeatist. Prowl vaguely remembers, during their trip to Cybertron, calling Lockdown out on his guilt toward the crime, and Lockdown was unable to deny it, but guilt alone doesn't make up for what he did.

The ninja feels his circuits bristle but before he can feed his grudge for the stand-in ally he's moments from meeting up with, his comm buzzes, filling with the familiar vocals of his leader.

OPTIMUS PRIME
Prowl, listen up. There may be a situation at the night club.

Prowl's spark instantly fills with worry but he masks it with his typically controlled flatness of voice.

PROWL
What kind of situation?

OPTIMUS PRIME
(with undeniable concern)
Jazz and his team are there and I have no doubt they've found Lockdown with Sari. How close are you?

Prowl lunges into a bursting acceleration, his processor racing as fast his alt mode.

PROWL
Not close enough!

OPTIMUS PRIME
I don't think Jazz would let any harm come to Sari, but I don't anticipate the ninjas behaving too subtly when they find Lockdown. My biggest worry is that they'll cause a disturbance too close to Kaon and attract unwanted attention.

PROWL
(straining to keep his voice neutral)
I understand the severity of the situation but I can't promise I will get there in time to prevent an altercation.

OPTIMUS PRIME
Please do what you can. I'll-- (he cuts himself off as his comm buzzes from a third party)

PROWL
Prime?

OPTIMUS PRIME
It's Blackarachnia. I need to take this. Prime out.

Prowl continues at his maximum speed straining to make out the images on the horizon, hoping they're the neon signs pointing to his destination. The straight stretch of highway feels endless but he presses on. Through his worry, he questions what news Blackarachnia has to share. A part of him wishes she had contacted him, simply to keep him in the loop, but his logical side is pleased she didn't. The last thing he needs right now is another processor-fragging discussion with a Decepticon. He has more important things to deal with, like the set of red headlights that just popped up on the horizon which, much to his dismay, he’s suddenly distracted from dealing with because his comm buzzes again.

STARSCREAM
[Autobot, I need you!]

Prowl flinches at the shrill, demanding voice and his processor threatens to overload as the red headlights grow menacingly larger on the highway.

PROWL
[Now is not the time, Starscream. Can you call back later?]

STARSCREAM
[EXCUSE ME?! What could possibly be more important than--]

Prowl ends the call, having neither the time nor patience to deal with that.

The spiked musclecar races by with a near windshield-shattering roar of his engines. Prowl skids into a one-eighty, back tire spinning frantically as he fights Newton’s first law of motion.

LOCKDOWN
[Take your time why dontcha.]

The bike regains its momentum and quickly closes the gap between him and the hunter.

PROWL
[Where are you going? And where is Sari?]

Lockdown lets off just enough speed so the bike pulls up alongside him. He rolls his driver-side window down and from it emerges a disgruntled teenager dangling by her collar from a hook.

LOCKDOWN
[Take her.]

He drops Sari into Prowl's side car then quickly pulls head, engines roaring as he accelerates to maximum speed, leaving the bike in his wake.

PROWL
[What's going on? What happened?]

LOCKDOWN
[You failed to warn me of a little ninja reunion at my watering hole, THAT'S what happened.]

PROWL
[Where are they now?]

LOCKDOWN
[Check your rearview.]

Prowl's frustrated by the drag created by his side car, but even if he didn't have it or Sari with him, he still wouldn't be able to match the buffed-up musclecar's speed.

Sari climbs out of the side car and drags herself onto Prowl's main seat, her hands gripping desperately to the handlebars as the wind whips against her little armored body.

PROWL
Are you okay, Sari?

SARI
I'm fine, but I can't say the same for Lockdown when (points her thumb to the growing sound of engines behind them) they catch up to him.

Gaining quickly on the bike is a white Porsche and an orange Cybertronian-model race car.

PROWL
What happened back there?

SARI
Well...let's see. The ninjas confronted Lockdown, asking why the murderer of their sensei was wearing an Autobot symbol, YOUR symbol, and Lockdown, not one to back down, pulled the symbol from his chest and stuck it on his aft...like, under the coattails aft...

PROWL
(with a sigh)
For spark's sake.

SARI
(continuing)
Warpath, I think that's his name...big red gun-chested bot, didn't take to kindly to this and starting beating on Lockdown, narrating each blow he landed. An then Blaster kicked us all out.

Before Prowl can vocalize more frustration, Jazz and Firestar zoom by on either side of him, causing the bike to swerve by the wind gusts.

JAZZ
What up, hero? Glad to see you this side a'the universe.

PROWL
The feeling is mutual my friend, but I insist you stop this pursuit.

FIRESTAR
How did you rescue the girl so quickly?

PROWL
She didn't need rescuing. Lockdown was looking after her.

SARI
As if! I was looking after him.

PROWL
Please, stop chasing him and I'll explain everything.

FIRESTAR
Not a chance in pit we're letting that lowlife get away. What the spark's wrong with you? Don't you want to get some sweet revenge for what he did?

PROWL
Revenge is not the way of the Cyber Ninja. I should not have to remind you of this, and besides, this is clearly not an appropriate time to dredge up grudges. We are all allies.

JAZZ
No bro, not this one. Bots and cons are allies. Mister mismatch here doesn't meet either of those criteria. I'm surprised at you man, defending him and all. I thought you got your head straight again.

Prowl grows even more frustrated as the gap between him and the pair of racers keeps increasing.

PROWL
It is straight! Can't you wait up?

JAZZ
No can do. The hunter is now the prey and we ain't letting him escape.

PROWL
He's on our side, Jazz. You must listen to me.

Sari leans over so Prowl can hear her voice over his engine buzz.

SARI
You're not going fast enough.

Prowl responds with irritated groan.

SARI
You need to lose the sidecar.

PROWL
And how am I supposed to do that while in pursuit?

The girl twists around, studying the side of the bike where the sidecar attaches. After couple carefully placed kicks to the attachment mechanisms and a yelp of pain from the ninja, the side car goes trailing off, sparks flying from its contact with the highway.

PROWL
(with offense)
Sari! My rocket boosters were attached to that!

SARI
(feeling pleased with herself)
What was that saying? Oh yeah, it is the ninja BOT not the weapon. Now punch it!

Despite the knock of humility to Prowl's processor, he's unable to resist her delectable order and the streamline bike zips ahead, cutting through the atmosphere with ease and gaining quickly on the sports cars.

JAZZ
Now that's more like it.

SARI
What happened to Warpath?

FIRESTAR
(laughing)
He's a tank, love, not exactly the ideal racing model. My best guess is he's rumbling down the highway a good distance back, muttering string of curses that would send ya to the pit just for hearing 'em.

PROWL
Jazz, open your door. I want you to take Sari.

Jazz complies, popping open his driver's door and unfolding his arm to reach out and pull her off the bike. Her protests are cut off as Jazz slams his door shut.

JAZZ
Whatchu up to, man?

Up ahead, Lockdown watches keenly as the sports cars gain on him. As pretty as his alt-mode's aesthetic mods are, the hunter regrets his vanity for moments like these when their bulk inconveniently slows him down. He watches closely as the sleek black bike emerges from in between the cars then propels ahead, growing tauntingly close in his rearview. Before the musclecar has time to worry about Prowl's intentions, the bike launches into the air, transforms in a snap then tears the nearest billboard from the side of the road, each action executed with exquisite and practically unnecessary grace.

LOCKDOWN
(to Prowl's comm)
[Showoff.]

Prowl plants down onto the highway, creating a ramp with the billboard that causes Jazz and Firestar to unavoidably launch into the air.

SARI
(to Prowl's comm)
[I'm so telling Optimus you ripped off his move.]

The racers transform midair and spring elegantly into the off-road, cushioning their landing with strong, lean limbs, Firestar snapping a string of curses at Prowl. Jazz kept a firm, safe grip on Sari the entire time. He rises up from his crouched landing position, feeling not-so-cool as Prowl approaches him with a smooth gait, the ninja’s stern expression almost intimidating. Jazz looks over his friend, holding tight to what remains of his patience.

JAZZ
You better start explainin'.

Firestar rushes up to Prowl, her body language clearly displaying her aggravation at him.

FIRESTAR
(shoving Prowl in the shoulder)
The spark's wrong with you!? Now we’ll never catch him!

Sari rockets out of Jazz's hold and gets in the femme's face.

SARI
Back off, lady! He knows what he's doing!

The femme shoots a heated look to Jazz, hoping he'll get her back but he signals her to cool down. Prowl opens his mouth to begin the explanation but the group is distracted by the sound of tank tracks grinding along the highway as Warpath rolls onto the scene. The oddly lumbering ninja transforms and stomps up to his comrades, out of breath but trying to mask it by grumbling a variety of comic book action words.

WARPATH
What in the pit is going on here!? A slaggin' reunion? Why don't I see a blasted bounty hunter tied up and ready for a (motions some violent moves) WHACK, CRACK!

FIRESTAR
(still glaring at Prowl)
Apparently, that modded miscreant doesn't have to be held accountable for his actions.

PROWL
(standing his ground)
I never said that.

Firestar gently pushes Sari aside and gets in Prowl's face, her heated optics blaring into his visor. Warpath approaches the black and gold ninja as well, swallowing him in his massive shadow.

FIRESTAR
Actions speak louder than words, fellow ninja bot.

Jazz steps in, separating the confrontation with an easy push to the femme's and the tank's chest.

JAZZ
Back down, cats. Let my man explain...I think we can trust his judgment.

Sari jets up and plants her backside down on Prowl's shoulder, her arms crossed and chin held high as she glares at the aggressive ninjas from behind her mask.

SARI
I trust him too.

A gravelly voice emerges from a short distance down the highway.

LOCKDOWN
(speaking too casually for his own good)
Me as well...which puts the vote at four verses two in favor of NOT kickin' bounty hunter aft.

The group whiplashes to watch the undecided stroll up, his space poncho blowing in the wind. His posture is straight and proud but he can't hide a slight apprehension to his walk. Warpath and Firestar tense up, ready to equip their weapons, but Prowl gently grabs both of their arms, his visor beaming instensely.

PROWL
I cannot allow you to attack him.

WARPATH
(yanking his arm from Prowl’s hold)
Who said I needed your permission?

Warpath glares bitterly at Lockdown, his fist clenched tight, but Jazz steps in front of him, preventing him from advancing on the hunter.

JAZZ
(calmly assuming his role of leader)
I said, back down.

The elite ninja forces his hostile soldiers to shrink slightly with a dangerously calm glare from his optic visor. He can’t deny the craving in his spark to rip the piecemeal traitor behind him limb from limb, but he knows that’s not the approach Yoketron would take. He can oddly sense his master’s presence and has a distinct feeling it’s coming from the sleek black chassis standing in front of him. Jazz is not comfortable with whatever connection his beloved friend seems to have with the bounty hunter, but he refuses to let his jealously prevent Prowl from explaining himself. He shifts his glare to the optic visor glowing under the familiar samurai helmet and attempts to regain his characteristic cool.

JAZZ
Enlighten us, Prowl. Why are we sparing this buzzkill of a bot?

Prowl steps forward, gripping Jazz’s shoulder gratefully then shifting his gaze to Lockdown.

PROWL
Because he cares for the fate of Cybertron as much as we do, as much as any bot does, regardless of the faction they do or don't swear allegiance to. He is a skilled fighter and a valuable asset to facing off against our shared threat.

The bounty hunter straightens his posture and fights to hide the emotion Prowl’s words are pulling from his spark.

Prowl looks over each ninja as he speaks, surprising himself with the confidence backing each word.

PROWL
(continuing)
We must cast aside our grudges and remember all that Yoketron has taught us. It is not our place to judge him or to deal out retribution where we see fit. Master had a plan, from the time he chose to train this mech to day he went offline.

Firestar eyeballs Lockdown head to toe, unwilling to accept that her master could possibly see value in a traitorous criminal.

PROWL
He knew what he was doing and we must respect that he saw something special in Lockdown just like he saw in each of us.

Warpath tilts his head to the side, his neck cables stretching with a crack that tells everyone he’s not pleased with the situation.

PROWL
I do not believe Lockdown’s crimes should go unpunished (shifts his gaze to the hunter) but I do believe everyone is deserving of a second chance.

Lockdown returns Prowl’s unreadable stare and the moment hangs in a long, tense collection of questioning thought. The scraping of Firestar’s feet along the ground breaks the silence. She turns away, transforming and speeding off down the highway, back toward the night club. Warpath vents a long, rumbling sigh as he eyeballs the bounty hunter then follows the actions of the femme. Jazz looks over Lockdown with a mix of emotion, none of which he wants to express. His optic visor narrows as he turns to Prowl and shakes his head. He can’t meet his friend’s gaze but he leaves him with a firm, trusting squeeze to his shoulder.

JAZZ
Hope you know what you're doing, Prowl.

The elite ninja transforms and joins the other two on the highway.

Prowl watches Jazz disappear on the horizon then apprehensively turns toward Lockdown. A sly smile spreads across the tattooed face.

LOCKDOWN
Nice speech kid.

The hunter reaches under his coattails pulling a small red face from the void and approaches the ninja, nodding in light-hearted appreciation. He slaps the symbol onto the bike's chassis, causing Prowl to stagger back a step. Prowl looks down at the crooked red face, his visor narrowing in disgust at the thought of where his insignia had been.

LOCKDOWN
I believe this suits you much better than it does me.

PROWL
I beg to differ.

LOCKDOWN
Beg all ya like, but it won’t change anything. (nods in the direction of the highway) You made a good sales pitch to them…hell, you could teach Swindle a thing or two.

PROWL
(meeting the hunter's optics)
It wasn't a hard sell considering it's the truth.

Lockdown, holding fast to his smile winks at Sari then aims for the highway.

LOCKDOWN
Nah, you're wrong there. I'm only in it for the bounty on the squids. (looks back over his shoulder) But…(choking on the word) thanks.

He transforms and pulls onto the road, stopping to rev his roaring engine in a tune of 'you coming or what?’

Prowl and Sari sigh helplessly in unison as they gaze upon the unlikely ally. The girl shakes her head then turns to Prowl, smiling under her mask as she wraps her arms around his neck.

PROWL
(slightly taken off guard)
What's this?

SARI
I just...really missed you, Prowl...everything about you...even your lectures.

PROWL
(lightly chuckling as he rests his hand on her back)
I think you're the only who missed those. I doubt Bumblebee did.

SARI
(giggling as she hugs tighter)
Oh, he did...he just won't admit it.

Lockdown rudely blares his impressively melodic horn.

LOCKDOWN
Let's get this wagon train moving kids. We got a planet that needs savin'.

A/N: So here's the WTF update. A bigtime sequence breaker. As you can probably guess, the story is gearing up for the final, climactic action scenes and seeing how I'm not a fan of final climactic action scenes, I've decided to tackle them in a different way. Well, it's different than the TFA way but somewhat common in recent movies and TV. I'm going to use flashbacks to recount the final events instead of following a chronological sequence. I won't skimp on the action, suspense or drama, simply present it in alternate yet entertaining (I hope) way.

Don't hate me for my creative liberties. ^_^ (however, feel free to hate Sentinel for STILL being jerk)

ELITE GUARD HEADQUARTERS – THE DAY AFTER AUTOBOT INDEPENDENCE DAY – MAGNUS OFFICE

Sentinel Magnus paces behind his Magnus desk, rubbing his Magnus chin and nearly tripping over his Magnus chair, all under the scrutinizing stare of his loyal officer and top cyber ninja. Despite his lacerated chassis and cracked optic visor, Jazz sits straight-postured, arms folded proudly across his chest. He hasn’t properly recharged since the battle aboard the Quintesson ship but that does not bother him. He couldn’t recharge if he tried, not after yesterday’s events. He can’t help shudder at all the possible ways the attack could’ve gone wrong, all the lives that could’ve been lost. It takes all his cyber ninja training to suppress the negative and focus on the positive. Focus on the primus-sent acts of bravery each and every bot aboard that ship demonstrated. Focus on the brief but history-making stretch of time where there was no factional separation; only bots fighting together to save their planet. Jazz has no regrets to the outcome of the battle. His team fought to the best of their skill and beyond.

Sentinel never set foot on the Quintesson ship, yet here he stands, nitpicking his way through the details of a clearly a successful mission. The missile is destroyed, two of the three Quintessons are behind bars and the streets of Iacon are littered with the tell-tale signs of a roaring Independence Day celebration, but that isn’t good enough for Sentinel Magnus. None of yesterday’s heroic acts could be accredited to Sentinel, therefore he’s taken it upon himself to comb over the mission for any potential flaws that can be thrown in the face of whoever he decides is responsible for them.

SENTINEL
Explain to me how it is the only ‘con we have in our custody is the one who never left it in the first place? (the pacing continues) How, despite the number of soldiers we had lingering around Kaon after the battle, not one Decepticon could be put in stasis cuffs and brought back for questioning?

Jazz is baffled, once again, by how severely blind his superior is to the big picture.

JAZZ
(with a quiet but serious voice)
That woulda been bad form, boss. (he shifts slightly in the chair, straining to keep his cool) Had you been there, you too woulda felt the vibe to just let ‘em be.

The makeshift Magnus pauses his pacing, flinging a disapproving glance to the ninja.

SENTINEL
Well I couldn’t be there now could I Jazz!

Jazz looks away, irritated and uninterested in the mech’s excuses.

SENTINEL
(throwing his hands up)
Somebody had to stay behind to man the Intel room and somebody had to keep an optic on Chromia to make sure she wouldn’t hop sides AGAIN.

Jazz shakes his head slightly, dropping his gaze to the floor. It’s a battle not to point how ridiculous his commander’s reasoning is, but he learned long ago the futility of arguing with him.

JAZZ
So you want the low down on what happened or not?

SENTINEL
If it’ll explain why (he uses his fingers to brashly count each point as he speaks them) the head Quintesson escaped, why their ship is nowhere to be found and why no one has come forward claiming responsibility for detonating that missile, then yes, I would like the ‘low down.’

Jazz scoots forward, leaning into his legs and keeping his focus down. Displaying his rise of aggravation wasn’t going to make his testimony any easier.

JAZZ
All I can account for is what happened on the ship. You’ll have to talk to OP about the missile. (he pauses a moment, letting a long stream of air pass in and out of his intakes before speaking again) The scene was crazy…a collage of chaos. Alarms blarin’, tentacles flyin’ everywhere. We expected a showdown, but not like that.

FLASHBACK – QUINTESSON SHIP –TRANSPORT ROOM

CHROMIA
(via Jazz’s comm)
[Are you in?]

JAZZ
[Affirmative.]

CHROMIA
[Are you cloaked?]

The ninja team moves silently out of the room and into the hallway. They activate their hologram mods and disappear into the surroundings, then switch on their infrared which enables them to see each other.

JAZZ
[We are now.]

The elite ninja signals Warpath and Firestar to secure one end of the hall and Prowl and Lockdown to the other. That leaves Sari standing at his feet, awaiting her order.

CHROMIA
[Did Swindle upload the ship’s map to you?]

JAZZ
[Yeah, we got it.]

CHROMIA
[Okay, as you can see, the bridge has two entrances. Your best bet is to split up and ambush them from both sides. I’ll keep you posted to their actions, let you know when all three are a safe distance from the missile control console.]

OPTIMUS PRIME
(intervening via comm)
[Jazz, it is of utmost importance you wait for our signal before attacking. We cannot risk them launching that missile. I’d rather abort the mission then put the outcome of your attack to the fate of chance.]

JAZZ
[I hear you, boss. I ain’t makin’ a move ‘till I get the green light.]

OPTIMUS PRIME
[Is Sari with you?]

JAZZ
[Word. She’s right here, buffin’ my Ch’i with her bravery.]

OPTIMUS PRIME
[Ok good, but bravery and battle prowess aside, she is still vulnerable. Make sure she is with either you or Prowl at all times.]

JAZZ
[No worries Prime, we’ll keep her safe.]

Jazz signals Sari to join Prowl and Lockdown then heads toward the other ninjas, turning back only to flash Prowl’s team the peace sign.

ELITE GUARD HEADQUARTERS – MAGNUS OFFICE – PRESENT TIME

SENTINEL
(slamming his fists on the desk)
The attack, Jazz! Tell me about the fraggin’ attack! I was in the Intel room during this conversation. I don’t need it recapped.

Jazz scowls at his superior, trembling with a frustration that threatens to break his characteristic cool. The Magnus leans into his desk, boring into the ninja with an interrogative glare.

SENTINEL
At what point did the squids discover your presence?

Jazz flinches in disgust at the mech’s terminology. Enemies or not, a Magnus should know better than refer to an alien species with derogatory slang.

JAZZ
(with a shake of his head and a shrug)
I don’ know, sir! Once we split up, I had no clue what happened on Prowl’s end, other than they captured one of the Quints, which you already knew about. That to me sounds like reason enough to trigger the alarms. (vents some heated air then takes a moment to cool back down) What is it you wanna hear, Sentinel?

SENTINEL
I wanna know who’s responsible for blowing your cover! Was it that bounty hunter? Or the organic? Perhaps it was your glitched-processored pal and you’re trying to cover up for him.

Jazz rises to his feet in a snap and points a threatening finger at the Magnus. His mouth quivers as he battles a defensive outburst that could very well earn him a military discharge. Sentinel straightens his stance and crosses his arms –his most superior of stances.

SENTINEL
Something you wanna tell me, soldier?

Jazz withdraws his aggressive body language, venting some more hot air and dropping his balled fists to his sides.

JAZZ
My crew operated exactly as they should’ve. The gig was dicey and we knew that from the start. (he eases back down in his chair) We anticipated that defining moment of pushing forward or withdrawing and we chose to push.

FLASHBACK – QUINTESSON SHIP – CORRIDOR TO BRIDGE

Jazz, Warpath and Firestar stand pressed against the wall on either sides of the bridge room door, each of them struggling to keep a manageable level of control. Their internal systems race with a heating mix of fear, anticipation and impatience.

JAZZ
[Chromia, I repeat, what’s the status? Is Prowl’s team in place?]

No response.

FIRESTAR
(to Jazz and Warpath)
[This is taking too long. Something must’ve happened to them.]

Jazz shakes off the negative images threatening to infect his processor.

JAZZ
[Prowl, come in. What’s happenin’ on your end?]

The three wait in silence during the excruciating long moment before Prowl replies.

PROWL
[Go in. Do it now, before it’s too late!]

JAZZ
[What! What do mean, bro? Gimme some details.]

No response.

JAZZ
Frag!

The other two ninjas’ optics widen at their leader’s vocal outburst. They look to him for answers, their sparks welling at the uncertainly showing through his visor.

JAZZ
(after a couple courage-building air intakes)
You heard him…Let’s move.

Jazz equips his nunchucks, Firestar her twin sais and Warpath charges up his chest cannon. On Jazz’s lead, the three burst through the door and lunge into the bridge, immediately assuming a battle stance as they survey the room. Before they can establish the vulnerability of the two Quintessons in the room, they’re bombarded by waves of tentacles streaming from the walls and ceilings. They reactively fend off the alien weaponry, jumping, slicing and kicking, their entire focus dedicated to keeping their limbs free of entrapment. Warpath equips his katanas, a much more appropriate weapon than his slow, energy-sapping firepower.

The alien assault continues without falter. The three haven’t been able to move from their initial infiltration spot. Despite how many tentacles they cut through, the binding threat keeps coming. In between attacks, Jazz strains to catch a glimpse of the bridge and barely makes out through the chaos Deliberata and Brinn, hiding behind a protective transparent shield. The shield lowered around the center platform the instant the defensive tentacles were deployed. Jazz’s circuits prickle when he sees the pompous grins on the aliens’ matching Death faces.

The other bridge door slides open to reveal the missing ninja team. Prowl’s supporting Swindle’s injured chassis and Lockdown stands tall his chainsaw equipped on one hand, a captive Quintesson dangling off his hook by its tentacles. Sevax egg-shaped body lies limp on the floor but the alien is still conscious. The other two Quintessons are unaware of recent arrivals but the ship’s defenses quickly pick up on the intruder’s energy readings. Within seconds, the tentacles come streaming toward them. Lockdown attacks with his roaring chainsaw and Sari with her energy blasts. They shield Prowl and Swindle.

LOCKDOWN
(shouting to Prowl over the mayhem)
We got this! Go do what ya need to do.

Prowl looks at Sari with concern, searching for the reassurance that’ll she be okay. She blasts a couple more tentacles, impressing the ninja with her quick reflexes then gives him a confident nod. Prowl wraps Swindle’s arm over his shoulder and the two leave the room, the door hissing shut behind them. The Quintessons finally take notice of the new arrivals, their smiles fading quickly once they see their third being held captive.

DELIBERATA
(still wearing the Death face)
Fools! You don’t stand a chance against our defenses. Release Sevax at once or I will start the launch sequence.

Lockdown rips through a few pesky tentacles, buying himself a free moment. He lifts Sevax into view, pulling a pained and humiliated groan from the alien.

LOCKDOWN
(typically indifferent)
That his name? Huh, I was just calling ‘em Squid.

Deliberata switches to his Rage face, his fangs bared and optics slitted.

DELIBERATA
Why you pathetic excuse for a warrior. Release him at once!

Lockdown grins wickedly then starts swinging Sevax over his head like a ball and chain, knocking away the few tentacles that his chainsaw missed. His optics glow a wild red, his gap tooth smile obnoxiously wide.

LOCKDOWN
M’afraid I can’t do that. We’ve grown kinda attached to each other.

Sevax hollers, painfully and pathetically as he’s swung mercilessly into his own prided defenses.

LOCKDOWN
How ‘bout you surrender yer ship and I’ll spare this whelp from my trophy shelf.

SEVAX
(screaming to Deliberata)
Help me, please! Do what he says, I beg of you. Just please save me from him!

The Quintesson commander fills with contempt at the hunter’s brash disrespect. He takes a long, cold look at Sevax, noting the alien’s dented features and scuffed body as he’s hurdled through the air and lacerated by the tentacles meant to protect him. Deliberata wasn’t a compassionate being. The assault on his subordinate didn’t invoke sympathy but rather stung his pride. If Sevax survived this assault, he’d have to face a severe wrath for behaving with such cowardice. Quintessons are a proud race and should always behave in that manner, no matter the situation. Despite the exile from their home planet, Deliberata was proud of their accomplishments and their technology. How dare these pathetic Cybertronians mistake his greatness as some weak, ill-prepared, fly-by-night antagonist. He switches back to his Death face and turns to Brinn, giving him a simple nod.

DELIBERTA
Launch it.

Brinn nods in return then immediately accesses the control panel on the armrest of the captain’s chair. Jazz didn’t miss a beat of this. He strikes a couple more tentacles with his nunchucks then takes a few steps forward, his focus locked on Brinn’s actions. He freezes when he sees the main screen fill with the image of an active counter.

JAZZ
(gasping)
No!

ELITE GUARD HEADQUARTERS – MAGNUS OFFICE – PRESENT TIME

Sentinel is now seated in his chair, leaning into his desk, hands clasped. He looks at Jazz almost sympathetically, but his compassion is quickly stifled by an ignorant realization.

SENTINEL
So…it’s the bounty hunter’s fault?! (thumps his fist on the desk) He’s responsible for the missile launch.

Jazz shakes his head, his patience only running on limited reserves.

JAZZ
No, boss…that’s not—

SENTINEL
(pointing an accusatory finger)
You allowed his deranged aft onto your team which means, technically YOU are responsible for the launch.

That’s the last straw. Jazz jerks out of his chair, hard enough to knock it over. He takes a couple steps toward the Magnus then turns and walks back to the chair, pacing a couple times in a temperament that Sentinel has never seen in him before. Jazz picks the chair up in one hand and violently tosses it into the wall, his growls drown out by the crashing sound of metal striking metal.

SENTINEL
(rising from his seat and suppressing some intimidation)
Get yourself under control, soldier! Don’t make me call security!

Jazz whips around to meet Sentinel’s fearful optics with his blazing glare.

JAZZ
What in the spark is your damage!?

SENTINEL
Excuse me?!

Jazz advances on the desk, flipping up his optic visor and piercing his superior with a naked stare that could raze all of Iacon.

JAZZ
We won, commander! And all Autobots are safe and accounted for. There is no reason for you to conduct this interrogation other than one, chart-topping and pathetically obvious reason.

SENTINEL
(struggling to stand his ground as he responds condescendingly)
And what reason would that be, Jazz?

JAZZ
(not budging)
You feel threatened. You’re bent outta shape because, once again, you have no claim to heroics.

Sentinel’s stare darkens, his mouth pinching in insult. He steps around the desk and gets directly in Jazz’s face. The ninja still doesn’t budge and keeps his glare fixed on the Magnus.

SENTINEL
You must not value this (taps Jazz’s Elite Guard insignia) anymore. Sounds to me like you want me to relieve you of it.

JAZZ
(his voice quiet but confident)
Admit it, sir.

SENTINEL
Admit what?

JAZZ
You’re not fit to be Magnus.

SENTINEL
(his optics brighten and he practically growls his response)
Then who is? Optimus?

Jazz doesn’t respond but keeps his gazed fixed.

SENTINEL
(with a sneering smirk)
Go ahead…say it. I know you want to. I DARE you to.

Jazz vents deeply a few times, forcing his chassis to cool. He flips his optic visor back down then turns and heads for the door.

Sentinel pompously crosses his arms, mistaking Jazz’s behavior as a sign of defeat. Before the elite ninja leaves the room, he turns to gaze to the Magnus once more.

JAZZ
(his voice cool but still confident)
You know how I feel about Optimus. But after yesterday’s events and the acts of bravery I witnessed…I’d sooner elect Megatron to fill your role then go through another catastrophe under your watch.

With a slamming of the door, Jazz is gone, leaving the Magnus to stand, quivering with insult, mouth gaping as he wallows in his mix of anger, frustration, a touch of humility and maybe, just maybe…a hint of regret.

All I gotta say is it's about time somebody told off Sentinel

Armorock wrote:All I gotta say is it's about time somebody told off Sentinel

Ya no kiddin'. I always saw Jazz as the one to tell hime off, seein' as he works right beside him and takes the brunt of his attitude. Love ya Jazz!

A/N: Thanks again, my dear readers, for your love. ^_^ And fyi, that is only the start of the tellings-off Sentinel's going to get.

OFFICE OF THE MAGNUS – ONE MEGACYCLE AFTER THE MEETING WITH JAZZ

Sentinel’s next victim of interrogation was originally going to be Chromia, but after the agitated state Jazz left him in, he decides an encounter that doesn’t provoke his temper would be the best option. He’ll deal with the treacherous femme later; let her sit in the prisoner chamber a while and hopefully mull over her sins. The thought of this brings him slight joy, but overall the Magnus is flustered. Despite Alpha Trion’s suggestion to postpone the investigation, Sentinel chooses to continue it. He is dead set on figuring out what exactly happened aboard that ship, whose actions are responsible for the launch and most importantly, what he can expect from the collection of Decepticons still lingering in Kaon. Oh ya, and there’s that whole business of determining who the heroes are.

The next bot he has lined up to meet with is not one he’s looking forward to speaking to one-on-one. This meeting will require him to select his words…carefully. Primus knows this bot could lose it worse than Jazz did. The Magnus realizes he may have made a mistake when denying this bot a place in the Hall of Heroes, but then again, this bot could be responsible for the missile’s launch. If that’s the case, it could severely hinder his chances for reconsideration. This meeting is going to require a lot of tiptoeing, if anything, for the sake of Magnus’s expensive office furniture. Sentinel isn’t worried about his own safety. If push comes to shove, he could handle a skinny little ninja, but he’d rather it didn’t come to that extreme.

The door to the Magnus’s office creaks open, pulling Sentinel from his flood of thought and forcing him into his most easygoing of commanding roles. He watches analytically as the black and gold samurai glides in classically stoic. Prowl takes a seat at the single chair set in front of Sentinel’s desk, his posture straight and proud, despite his obvious level of exhaustion.

SENTINEL
(stumbling toward sincerity)
I thank you for coming at such short notice. I’ll try to make this as brief as possible so you can recharge and what not. (he rises from his seat and starts his typical pacing ritual) You understand why I called you here, correct?

PROWL
(calm and compliant)
I do.

SENTINEL
Good…Then you feel comfortable recapping the events aboard the ship?

PROWL
(his visor narrows)
Of course. Why wouldn’t I be comfortable?

SENTINEL
Well…

Sentinel fidgets awkwardly. This is one of those moments where he’s required to call upon his limited resources of compassion. He hates these moments but he reasons this…soldier deserves his sympathy, what with everything he’s been through.

SENTINEL
You know…because of your…thing.

Prowl raises an optic ridge, refusing to appease this transparent buffoon with the slightest glint of emotion.

PROWL
You needn’t worry about my condition. I was capable of carrying out our mission to the best of my ability and I am capable now of reporting the events to you.

The Magnus accepts this with an approving nod.

SENTINEL
Very well…Let’s see now. (he fumbles through some tablets on his desk, looking over his notes). Jazz mentioned he saw you with Swindle? And that the two of you left the bridge during the attack on the Quints?

PROWL
That is correct.

SENTINEL
Tell me, then…when did you first meet up with Swindle? And did you find Blackarachnia? What happened to her?...(Prowl opens his mouth to answer but Sentinel cuts him off) And what about Starscream? Did he get his comeuppance!?

This causes a hitch in Prowl’s thoughts. He knows the subject of Starscream and his heroics must be addressed, but he’s not sure how to approach it. He cycles over the Magnus’s heap of questions, deciding the best approach is to simply answer them one at a time as they were given and bring up Starscream when the moment feels right for it.

PROWL
We encountered Swindle on our way to the bridge, after we split off from Jazz’s team.

FLASHBACK – QUINTESSON SHIP –CORRIDOR LEADING TO THE LABORATORY

Prowl, Lockdown and Sari, all hidden by their cloaking devices, move slowly down the hallway. Prowl leads them, using the ship’s map Jazz sent through his commlink to navigate their passage. Sari is close to his heels, her spark racing with fear and excitement but she strives to keep a cool, ninja-like demeanor. Lockdown follows behind, his pace slower as he checks out every detail of the ship’s architecture and takes special note of the panels in the ceiling that no doubt hide the obnoxious tentacle defenses he’s heard about.

Sari’s suddenly distracted by a change in Prowl’s appearance. His infrared image in her visor flickers, blinking in with his normal colors.

SARI
Prowl! (she whispers) Your cloaking device is glitching!

Prowl holds his hands out and watches with frustration as they flicker.

PROWL
Ugghhh…it’s this faulty, standard issue, EG piece of scrap mod.

Sari’s taken back by his language.

PROWL
I could really use my own hologram mod right about now.

Lockdown approaches them, scowling at Prowl's dilemma.

LOCKDOWN
Damned cheap mods. Yer signal is masked, right?

PROWL
Yes, but that won’t matter if they have video survell—

CHROMIA
(bursting onto Prowl’s group comm)
[Prowl! Heads up! Sevax just left the bridge and he’s headed your way. He’s armed and moving quickly. Something has clearly upset him.]

PROWL
[Can you divert him away from us?]

CHROMIA
[No. They won’t answer my call. I think they’re onto me. Both you and Jazz need to move your teams onto the bridge NOW. Jump them before they activate the ship’s defenses.]

Prowl is not pleased with the disorganized urgency. He grows more frustrated as his hologram continues to glitch and struggles to keep his air of control. He turns to Lockdown, unable to mask the uneasiness showing through each flicker of his visor. Lockdown narrows his optics and slightly shakes his head.

LOCKDOWN
Don’t buckle on us now, kid. She said move, so we move.

Prowl stares at Lockdown for an indecisive moment then finally accepts his reassurance. He looks to Sari, expecting her beaming confidence to restore some courage in his spark, which it does without fail. He snaps his focus back to the map displayed on his HUD and signals his team to follow.

They only move a short distance down the hall when a loud blast and a painful holler shatter the silence. They advance with urgency around the next corner and freeze at the sight of Swindle collapsed on the floor with a Quintesson standing over him, a menacing blaster held in his tentacles.

SEVAX
You filthy traitor! How dare you--

The alien is distracted by the flicker from Prowl’s hologram.

SEVAX
What’s this?

Lockdown shoves past his teammates, his cloaked chassis radiating his anger at Sevax’s assault. He advances on the alien, who doesn’t realize the danger he’s in until a bulky, spiked foot breaks through its hologram and pummels him into the adjacent wall.

Sari and Prowl race to Swindle’s side, rolling him over to inspect the damage. He’s unconscious, his chest blackened and stained with energon around the hole blasted in it. His spark chamber is cracked but intact, the blue glow peeking through the split in its casing.

SARI
Is he okay?

PROWL
He’ll be fine…as long as he doesn’t take another blast. (glances down the hall at Lockdown and Sevax) But I don’t foresee that happening, at least not from that Quintesson.

Lockdown now has Sevax by the tentacles and he swings him around, alternating between the walls he smacks him into and making sure that multiple faces receive a proper rearranging. He doesn’t bother using a single mod in his assault, knowing well his brute force is more than enough to deal with this enemy. He pins him against the lab door and leans in to him with a menacing glare. His intent is to show the alien just how pissed he is about the attack on a fellow Cybertronian, regardless of that Cybertronian’s quality of character. Even Swindle didn’t deserve to be taken down by a cowardly squid that hides behind big shiny weapons.

LOCKDOWN
Don’t even entertain the thought of contacting your buddies.

Sevax shudders pathetically, unable to mask with his Death face --the most intimidating of faces-- the fear he’s feeling.

SEVAX
(spitting fluids as he speaks)
You’re too late! They know you’re here, I’ve already alerted them. You don’t stand a chan—

Lockdown releases him, letting him fall to the floor but keeping his grip on the tentacles. He looks worriedly to Prowl who now has Swindle draped over his shoulder and is coming toward him. The ninja caught every word of the alien’s threat.

PROWL
I don’t like the sound of that.

JAZZ
(via Prowl’s comm)
[Prowl, come in. What’s happenin’ on your end?]

LOCKDOWN
(to Prowl)
If this squid’s tellin’ the truth, we gotta make our move, pronto.

Prowl nods in agreement, shifting as he continues to support Swindle’s unconscious weight.

PROWL
(to Jazz)
[Go in. Do it now before it’s too late.]

The injured dealer comes to upon hearing Prowl’s voice. He groans in pain and lifts his head off the ninja’s shoulder. Lockdown relaxes slightly upon seeing this.

LOCKDOWN
Swindle! Th‘spark happened? Why’d he shoot you?

SWINDLE
(voice weakened)
No time to explain…we gotta stop that missile.

PROWL
The missile!? Have they launched it?

SWINDLE
Not yet, but it’s only a matter of time.

Prowl tightens his hold on the dealer then pushes forward, signaling his team to follow.

PROWL
Come on! We need to stick to the plan and get to the bridge. Perhaps we can still prevent the launch.

ELITE GUARD HEADQUARTERS – OFFICE OF THE MAGNUS – PRESENT TIME

SENTINEL
(perched attentively in his chair)
Well, what happened? How was Swindle’s cover blown?

PROWL
(shaking his head)
I am…uncertain. We separated before he could tell me what happened.

SENTINEL
But Jazz said the two of you left the bridge together. Where did you go? Why didn’t you stay and help your team? You realize Lockdown provoked the head squid into launching that missile.

The ninja’s face pinches in insult. He looks at his superior with doubt, shaking his head in disagreement.

PROWL
No, that’s not true. Is that what Jazz told you?

SENTINEL
(leaning back with an unjustified assurance)
Not exactly in those words, but he made it clear enough.

PROWL
I don’t believe that. The launch would have happened regardless of Lockdown’s predictably disagreeable behavior. That is why Swindle and I left the bridge. He knew the launch was inevitable. He insisted we go back for Sta—(he cuts himself off, unsure if this is the appropriate time to bring up the controversial subject).

SENTINEL
Go back for who? Starscream!?...Why, to take him down?

Prowl takes a moment before responding, deciding there’s no purpose in keeping Starscream’s involvement a secret, especially considering how important the seeker’s role had been in securing their victory.

PROWL
No…Starscream was on our side….He had been all along.

SENTINEL
(predictably disbelieving)
Say what!?...(he relaxes his posture, looking the ninja over in pity then shaking his head) You’re glitching again.

PROWL
(snapping defensively)
No I am not! Swindle and I had been communicating with Starscream all along, even before you were aware of the Quintesson threat. If it wasn’t for him, we…(he rises up, gesturing toward the window) all of this would be gone.

Sentinel’s still not convinced but he suppresses his instinct to chastise this mixed-up bot, drawing upon the little sympathy he has for his condition. He remains seated but lifts his glance to meet Prowl’s.

SENTINEL
You’re dismissed, soldier…(his voice softens as he sighs in disappointment) I suggest you get yourself a solid night’s recharge.

Prowl stands, bristling in offense. What was he supposed to do, lie? He wasn’t about to lower himself to a charade just to appease this sorry excuse of a commander.

PROWL
Why did you call me in here if you believed I wasn’t fit to give a proper testimony?

Sentinel fumbles with various supplies on his desk, oblivious to how much he just insulted the ninja.

SENTINEL
I, along with everyone else, seemed to think you were…you know…better. But don’t worry, I’ll have Chromia or Optimus Prime supply the details which you cannot.

Prowl crosses his arms and vents a long stream of hot air.

SENTINEL
(his tone is inappropriately casual)
Don’t take it the wrong way, Prowl. Your bravery yesterday and…(struggling to make optic contact) your actions back on Earth, during the Omega clone siege…all of it has been…duly noted.

The ninja turns away, fighting to keep his rarely-surfaced temper intact and aims for the door.

SENTINEL
(confused by Prowl’s actions)
What’s your issue, soldier? Don’t you want recognition for your acts of bravery? You’re in a very unique position, you know. No Autobot in all of our history has ever been considered for the Hall of Heroes, while he was alive.

Prowl stops at the door, his wing panels straightening stiffly. He doesn’t bother to even look in Sentinel’s direction and battles a cauldron of verbal retaliation bubbling in his processor. It takes all his self-control to leave the mech with just this single but vivid thought.

PROWL
I am sorry…

SENTINEL
(taken back)
Sorry? What for? The Chromia thing? (waves it off pretending not to care) She’s a traitor…why should I care that you—

Prowl rolls his optics underneath his visor and speaks up before the Magnus can unknowingly dig himself into a deeper hole.

PROWL
I am sorry that you are so remarkably clueless as to how the real world operates.

The ninja slips quietly into the hallway, leaving the Magnus to gape in stupor. Sentinel throws his arms out in a wide shrug.

SENTINEL
What?! What did I do wrong? I was nice this time.

He’s baffled how the business of electing heroes has become so complicated. What did Yoketron teach these guys? Put your servos on the line then throw a fit when it came time to be rewarded for your actions? Silly. Sentinel’s grateful he never bothered with ninja training. He brushes it all off with a shake of his head then strains to focus on the next line up of business.

SENTINEL
(speaking into his comm)
Magnus here. Bring Chromia in.

He ends the call, not even waiting for a response. Oddly enough, he’s not dreading this interview as much as he was before. It’ll be a nice change not to have some spawn of Yoketron spouting off their Processor over Logic nonsense at him.

HALLWAY LEADING TO THE OFFICE OF THE MAGNUS

Rounding the corner in front of Prowl is a pair of guards, escorting Chromia who’s wearing a pair of uncharged stasis cuffs. Everyone halts before bumping into each other, Prowl and Chromia exchanging surprised and curious looks.

CHROMIA
Are you coming from Sentinel’s office?

PROWL
Yes.

She eyeballs him head to foot.

CHROMIA
That explains why you’re so tense.

PROWL
(dismissive of her observation)
Is that where you are headed?

CHROMIA
Yes…(she cringes) my turn.

PROWL
He’ll probably ask you about Swindle and Starscream.

He steps closer to her, gripping her upper arms.

PROWL
You must tell him the truth.

The guards exchange questioning glances.

CHROMIA
Starscream? No one knows what happened to him.

PROWL
I realize that but Sentinel doesn’t believe he was ever on our side.

CHROMIA
Of course he doesn’t! You insisted I be all secretive about it. (her wings flitter restlessly in their clamps) And come to think of it, I’m not even convinced Starscream was on our side. Megatron didn’t seem to think so either.

Prowl raises an optic ridge as he releases her.

CHROMIA
Okay, bad example, but do you understand my point?

PROWL
Your point is moot. The truth is, Starscream was on our side and our Magnus needs to be convinced of this…for Starscream’s sake.

CHROMIA
(speaking snootily)
You mean your Magnus…and why does it matter what he thinks about that weaselly--

PROWL
(interrupting with a raise of his voice)
Because, Chromia, it is the truth. I know that’s an alien term to you but some of us value its importance.

CHROMIA
(quick to defend herself)
Starscream’s reality means nothing to Sentinel. If I try to convince him of something I’m not even sure about, he’ll see right through it.

One of the guards tugs Chromia’s arm, urging her to wrap up the conversation.

CHROMIA
(softening her tone)
I’m sorry Prowl, I can’t help you with this. Get a hold of Blackarachnia or Swindle…see if they’ll talk to Sentinel.

PROWL
(shaking his head)
They would never agree to that.

The guards lead Chromia away but she keeps her optics locked on Prowl, her voice echoing down the hall.

CHROMIA
If you truly believe Starscream is the unsung hero then it’s your responsibility to convince the rest of us.

Prowl turns away, unsatisfied with her reasoning. He drifts down the hall, his processor racing much higher than it should be given his level of exhaustion but he refuses to rest until this matter is settled. If one of Cybertron’s most well-known antagonists could be proven a hero, it would spurn monumental growth to the seeds of peace Optimus Prime planted yesterday. He can’t give up, for the sake of Cybertron’s future. The truth must be unveiled.

PROWL
(opening up a comm call)
Blackarachnia, this is Prowl…Are you there?