A/N: Synapse is property of Hellsfirescythe on dA. Transformers property of.... whoever's gone and bought the copright at this point in time.

--------------------------------

Conversation died down as Ultra Magnus stoically paced through the door and surveyed the room, optics skimming over each small group of mechs to rest upon a solitary figure perusing a datapad, exhaustion almost etched into his calm face. The tri-coloured mech silently observed the smaller Autobot before exiting the room. It was no surprise to the other occupants when the solitary mech followed soon after, and there was more than one sympathetic look shot in his direction; the general assumption standing that, when one fragged off the mech in charge, one was in for verbal explosions. What none of them were privy to, however, was the radio conversation, which put into debate who exactly was on the receiving end. Of course, very few mechs were brave, or stupid, enough to even attempt listening in on Ultra Magnus's conversations.

: [Explain to me, Perceptor, why one of my best spies is currently inoperable after apparently trying to infiltrate Kaon on your orders.] :
: [Magnus, though I find your dedication laudable, you and I have markedly antithetic perceptions on how this battalion should function. While your warriors are scrabbling around for energon, Shockwave may have fabricated some commodity that could decimate us facilely. We must know.] :
Ultra Magnus merely glared at the small scientist keeping pace beside him, not noticing any and all mechs that took one glance at him and scrambled out of his way.
: [The last time I checked, Prime had left me in charge of the Autobots - ] :

: [And I wholly acquiesce with his volition.] : Perceptor interrupted, jogging to keep up with the towering mech's strides as they passed through the near-silent tunnel.
: [However, that judgement does not dictate the progressive running of this army, and it is unable to dictate how the Decepticons will act.] :
: [I'm doing the best I can, Perceptor! I'm sorry if you don't like it, but there's nothing I can do about that.] :
: [I'm not saying that you've done a poor job. On the contrary, I believe what you've done has been admirable. But it's time to face facts, Magnus. As an army, we are barely surviving on what we manage to scrounge from the Decepticons. As a civilisation, we've almost ceased to exist. What will we do when the energon we manage to glean from Decepticon stocks runs dry? We can't survive this way forever.] :

"You think I don't know that?"
Ultra Magnus's voice thundered down the corridor, causing everyone within audio distance to freeze. The mech himself was busy glowering at the now annoyed-looking scientist.
"I'm beginning to wonder."
It was the blatant disregard Perceptor showed in that instance for Ultra Magnus's rank that cause the tri-coloured mech to pause and stare in near-stupefaction as the scientist stepped around him and continued on his way. Shaking his head, Ultra Magnus followed.

: [Care to repeat that?] :
: [You heard me well enough the first time.] : Perceptor snapped back, picking up his pace enough that the larger Autobot had to speed up to keep up.
: [Magnus, you're a warrior, not a commander, but you've done a dynamic accomplishment as both. You have, however, one singular, fatal flaw. You believe in miracles.] :
: [Miracles.] :
: [Exactly. From the beginning, you've expected Prime to conceive a miracle. Even after he and his crew departed on their jeopardous mission, you've been expecting them to resurge and bring a triumphant victory in their wake. And Magnus, for believing that you are a fool.] :

Ultra Magnus paused mid-step as the scientist turned and poked his front transformation panels angrily. Gone was the normally calmly reserved scientist, and he was reminded just how well the mech before him could hold his own in a fight.
: [This is war, Magnus. Miracles were forfeit long ago. All we have now are facts, and they are my speciality. Facts dictate that we either find a way to stop the Decepticons, or find a way to survive. I for one will not risk my life if there is another way to live.] :
: [Are you suggesting we use any new weapon the Decepticons develop against them? We are Autobots, Perceptor, we don't work that way.]:
He was almost bristling at the mere suggestion.

: [Then how would you theorize we comport? Procrastinate and anticipate a miracle?] :
A soft rumble passed through his vocaliser as Ultra Magnus went to give his own irritated reply, only to be interrupted again, as a green blur slid to a halt before him.
"Sir!"
"What?"
He could have kicked himself as the much smaller mech flinched slightly at his sharp tone. The towering mech almost frowned at himself for trying to take his frustrations out on the scout before him. Reigning in his temper, he nodded to the green mech.

"What is it, Synapse?"
The shorter scout looked warily between the two officers as if tossing around the idea of whether it would be wise for him to walk away; in the end, he decided it was safe to proceed, but wisely stepped back a pace.
"Decepticons, sir. Seekers and a unit of ground troops mobilizing outside of Praxus. The base commander there has requested urgent assistance."
This caused Ultra Magnus to frown; there was no reason for any Decepticon forces to be gathered near Praxus, the city having been stripped of energon early in the war. A more serious note for concern was the fact that most of his own soldiers were still worn down from an earlier battle. Still, these were fellow Autobots in trouble. He focused his attention back on the waiting scout.

"Gather what mechs are able and see that they are prepped. I'll join you in Communications shortly."
"Yes sir.
Synapse threw a sharp salute before running from the room; Ultra Magnus watched until the minute-sized mech had vanished through another doorway before facing the scientist waiting beside him. Raising a hand to rub one of his helm projections tiredly, he sighed.
"Perceptor, I - "
The red mech held up a hand to forestall him, and Ultra Magnus' own hand dropped back down to his side.

"This warfare has begun to make ours an effete camaraderie, and we both communicated in a regretful way. But I meant what I said, Magnus. Miracles were forfeit long ago."
"Perhaps."
His gazed fixed on the wall as a small group of mechs rushed past, some with weapons already drawn. A small hiss escaped his vents.
: [Let this soldier be deluded for a little while longer. We all need something to believe in.] :
He glanced down as a hand landed on his shoulder; Perceptor had to stretch up uncomfortably to reach enough of his shoulder to pat. The scientist's mouth was twisted upwards in a part-smile.
"Be assiduous. Stay viable. We will descry a course of action to subsist through this contention."
Nodding once with a small smile of his own, Ultra Magnus left the corridor at a trot in pursuit of Synapse, not noticing the thoughtful look on Perceptor's face as he went to assist the medics in their preparations.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Silver
2008