Running from Shadows
By: Vierge
A Transformers: Generation One Fan Fiction Piece
Featuring: Shadowrunner and Nightraid
DISCLAIMERS: I don't own Transformers; they are the property of HASBRO and Takara, and I'm just borrowing them for the meantime so I can have some fun. I do own Shadowrunner and Nightraid, however, so unless you want the Lamborghini Twins to tear you apart with a little help from Ratchet, Wheeljack, Jazz and Prowl, you will not steal them. I also own Binary, Arclight, Hoverspeed and Undercurrent. Are we clear on that? Good.
NOTES: I know that most of the pieces involving Shadowrunner and Nightraid have been, for the most part, happy and cheerful and generally fun. That's going to change in this piece. It isn't always fun and games when it comes to the Lamborghini Siblings, and based on the title and inferences from previous stories, I think you know just who's getting all the pain this time around.
RATING: PG-13/T
TEASER: It is a well-known fact that Shadowrunner doesn't laugh, but no one knows why. Even Nightraid doesn't quite understand, and is almost afraid to ask. But when a raid the sisters conduct on Decepticon Headquarters goes terribly awry and they come back almost completely slagged, some questions about the sisters are answered – in the most unlikely fashion.
Running from Shadows
Part I
Two weeks. Sunstreaker had been counting, and it had been two slagging weeks. That was far, far too long for them to be away on a mission, not when they were usually back within a week – hell, within a day, as was often the case.
But two weeks? That was just ridiculous. Something had to have gone wrong, and Primus damn him if he didn't do anything about it.
He strode into the Command Center then, all but steaming around his head vents. He walked over to where Blaster was plugged into Teletraan-One, and grasped the red Autobot's shoulder in a grip that caused the Communication Officer to actually squawk and turn to look up at him. "Sunstreaker? What the-"
"Have you heard anything from them?" Sunstreaker's tone was deceptively calm and mild, but there was no mistaking the near-white glow of his optics. Sunstreaker was worried, and when he was worried, he got mad. Unfortunately for everyone else, Sunstreaker wasn't picky about his targets when he was in this sort of mood.
Blaster sighed and turned away. "Look, I promised I'd tell you minute I heard from them, but I haven't gotten anything from them."
"Then you contact them," Sunstreaker all but growled.
"No can do. Jazz said there wasn't to be any radio contact from our side to them. If there's any calling to be done, it'll be from them, not us."
"Jazz doesn't know slag!" Sunstreaker roared. "'Runner and 'Raid have been out there for two weeks! I don't care about Jazz's orders or even Prime's orders; I just want to know where the Pit my sisters are!"
"Sunstreaker, that is quite enough."
The yellow Lamborghini Countach whirled around, and narrowed his optics at the speaker. "Shut up, Prowl."
The Autobot strategist merely looked at him calmly – something that made Sunstreaker even angrier. "Nightraid and Shadowrunner are soldiers, and very capable ones at that. They will know to call us if they need help. If they do not call, then we will not interfere. I am sure they have their reasons for not contacting us despite the significant delay."
"What if they can't call us, huh? Ever thought of that?" Sunstreaker stalked over to Prowl, and stabbed a finger hard against the Datsun's chest plate. "Or has your spark gone so cold that you don't even care about what happens to them?"
Almost instantly, Prowl's optics flashed a brilliant blue – a sure sign that he was angry. "Do not try my patience, Sunstreaker."
Sunstreaker smirked belligerently. He was spoiling for a fight, if only to work off all this tension, and if Prowl rose to the challenge, well, that was just fine by him too. "Why? Are you gonna make something out of it?"
"Enough, Sunstreaker."
There was no mistaking that voice and the tone of firm command that backed it. Sunstreaker lingered where he stood for a moment, and then backed off just before his standing there might be considered an act of insubordination.
He turned to look at Optimus Prime. "What, are you gonna back him up on this too, Prime?"
"Prowl has a very good point," Optimus stated, and Sunstreaker narrowed his optics at the Autobot Commander. "This is a very serious and dangerous mission. If Shadowrunner and Nightraid need time to prepare, they shall have it. They will take the right opportunity when it is presented to them, and if that opportunity takes two more weeks, then they will wait."
"We don't have time!" Sunstreaker ground out. "For all we know, those 'Cons could've already built the slagging thing even before 'Runner and 'Raid had stolen the blueprints!"
That, so Sunstreaker recalled, was the main reason why his sisters had been sent out in the first place. They'd received reports that the Decepticons were building a new super-weapon, one that would actually work this time, and there was no way the Autobots would allow them to actually build the thing. The command staff discussed how best to get the blueprints and destroy whatever the Decepticons had managed to build of it, and it was decided that the Lamborghini sisters would go – and it would only be just the two of them.
Sunstreaker remembered when he and Sideswipe first heard the news from Nightraid. At first they'd taken it in stride – this was nothing new, and besides, that was the function the sisters were built to perform – but when they heard that the femmes were going at it alone, the Twins had come close to blowing their gaskets. There was no way they'd let their sisters do this alone. Even when they went on raids in the past, the brothers had taken care to shadow them, make sure they were all right. They were never needed, but it didn't matter. What mattered was that they were there in case they were needed.
The idea of sending them to Decepticon Headquarters on their own was something that did not agree with either Twin, and they were both very outspoken about it, especially Sideswipe. Sunstreaker remembered how his twin had argued with Prowl and Jazz, but had come up against a steel wall. Even Jazz said there was nothing he could do: this was the best plan all around, and they were going to push through with it.
If there was ever a day that Sunstreaker wanted to pull a mech's spark out through his aft end, it had been that day. He had been completely ready to do it, too, had not Shadowrunner come in and told him, in no uncertain terms, that she and Nightraid were going whether he and Sideswipe liked it or not. That pretty much put an end to the argument, because if Shadowrunner and Nightraid wanted to do this, then they would, whether Sideswipe and Sunstreaker liked it or not.
That had been two weeks ago – two weeks that had felt like vorns to him and Sideswipe. The sisters weren't anything if not efficient, and this delay troubled them both. Although the Twins' connection to their sisters didn't run as deep as the one that they themselves shared, something still nagged at them, troubling them constantly. They couldn't explain how or why, but they knew something was wrong, that this delay was unnatural, and that the femmes were in trouble.
All of a sudden, the alarms went off in the Command Center, indicating a Decepticon incursion. Red Alert was instantly at the console, flicking switches and pressing buttons, while Blaster immediately contacted all mechs who were on watch duty that day. In the meantime, Teletraan-1's primary screen flickered to life, and showed the three Seekers – and Sunstreaker grinned. Finally, something to take his frustrations out on that wouldn't get him sent to the brig!
"Starscream," Prowl muttered with distaste. "Red Alert, do you have any idea why they're here?"
"Any number of reasons," Red Alert replied, calm and composed as he took stock of the situation – as he tended to be during moments of crisis. "Whatever it is though, it's on the ground."
"Get a visual," Optimus ordered. "Starscream and his compatriots wouldn't come all the way here chasing something for no reason."
"Already on it, sir."
"Sir, I've gotten in contact with Sideswipe," Blaster announced then. "He's on patrol duty right now, and he says he's the one closest to where the Seekers are."
Barely a nano-klik had passed since the words had left Blaster's vocalizer than Sunstreaker felt a wave of terror and anger rush over his spark – backwash, he could tell, from Sideswipe's. At that same instant, the primary screen switched to a higher view, showing what it was the Seekers were after.
It showed a gunmetal-blue Gallardo and a matte-black Murcielago. The Murcielago was in the lead, but it looked almost completely slagged, and there was a slight jerk in its movements that indicated one of its tires was flat. The Gallardo didn't look as damaged, but it stayed right behind the Murcielago, weaving back and forth to avoid the null-ray blasts from the Seekers while occasionally touching its front bumper to the back of the other Lamborghini, as if giving it a nudge. Still, it was slow going, and the Seekers were getting more and more aggressive.
But the thing was, the Lamborghinis were not ordinary Lamborghinis: they were Shadowrunner and Nightraid, in their alt-modes, and obviously the former had been to the Pit and back.
It was more than Sunstreaker could take. Already he could feel the rage rising in his spark, fueled by what he was seeing and by the emotions he could feel emanating from his twin. He transformed, and roared out of the Command Center, out of the Ark, racing towards his sisters and his twin, whom he knew for sure was on his way, if not already there.
Hang on, he thought as hard has he could, hoping to Primus that somehow, even if they weren't connected to him like Sideswipe was, his sisters would hear him.
Hang on.
Deep in the spark of every Cybertronian slumbered a monster waiting for the right reason, the right opportunity, to get out of its cage and wreak havoc upon the world. It didn't matter whether said Cybertronian was Autobot or Decepticon: that monster existed in all of them. All it needed was the right trigger, the right reason, and it would come howling out of its confines.
That monster had just been unleashed in Sideswipe, and the Seekers were going to get the brunt of its anger.
He gunned his engine, the roar satisfying to his audios as he sped over the dust and sand of the desert, homing in on the Decepticon jets. Through the spark connection he shared with Sunstreaker, he could feel his twin's overwhelming rage, one that was filtered through a cold, remorselessly calculating CPU that was already deciding how best to tear the Seekers apart so that they felt prolonged and merciless pain, how best to tear out their sparks so as to offer the best satisfaction and retribution for what they had done to their sisters.
As far as Sideswipe was concerned, he would be more than content with whatever his twin did to them – as long as Sunstreaker saved him some scraps of his own.
As he cleared a rise on the terrain, they came into view: Shadowrunner and Nightraid in their alt-modes, with Shadowrunner looking as if she might fall apart at any minute, trying their best to dodge the null-ray blasts the Seekers were firing at them from above. For a long moment, Sideswipe could do nothing but stare, immobilized by the fear he felt, by the realization that, at any moment, he could lose the family he had only so recently found.
And then that fear blossomed into pure, unadulterated anger in his spark. How dare the Seekers try to destroy what he had found? How dare they try to take away one of the most precious things he had left in the universe?
There was no way in the Pit he was going to let them get away with that alive.
With another roar of his engine he started up again, going at full speed down the slope, and then using the increased momentum to hurl himself up into the air as he transformed. He grabbed hold of the first Seeker he could reach, and then pulled the both of them down, the both of them landing hard.
He didn't care which one of the Seekers he had in his grasp, nor did he engage in any preliminary taunting and humiliation. All of that flew out of his processors as he proceeded to pummel his victim, thinking only that the fragging malfunction had been firing at his sisters, who were practically coming to pieces, and someone – anyone – was going to pay.
"You."
Punch.
"Slagging."
Crush.
"Piece of."
Shred.
"Scrap!"
- -'Swipe!- -
He ignored the voice that came through his internal comm. link, assuming that it was just one of the other officers telling him to back off. Well, frag them. He wasn't going to listen to them, not now, not when he was going to turn this Seeker into a pile of parts too destroyed to be considered useable.
- -'Swipe!- -
The high-pitched shriek made Sideswipe snap to attention, and it took him a moment to realize that it belonged to Nightraid. Cursing himself, he hooked his internal comm. link up with hers. - -'Raid, what is it?- -
- -It's 'Runner,- - Nightraid replied, and there was a hitch in her voice that made Sideswipe's fuel pumps stop working for a moment. - -She's just gone into stasis lock!- -
For a moment, not a single thought process occurred in Sideswipe's CPU, but when they finally started working again, they were working at triple speed. After a brief glance at the Seeker he had been trying to smash to bits, he leaped away, and headed towards Nightraid. He radioed a quick - -Cover us Sunny!- - to his twin, and barely registered the sound of metal crashing against metal as Sunstreaker took over where he had left off.
He had hoped the damage done to Shadowrunner wasn't as bad as he thought it was. He hoped that her going offline was a temporary thing, that it was something she could be shaken out of.
But when he saw how she was, he felt all his hopes scatter and evaporate like smoke.
Somehow, Nightraid had managed to get her sister to transform back to her primary mode, but it only made the injuries more obvious. One of her knee joints looked as if it had been shot all to hell, and a part of her side bore damage from what looked like the edge of a fusion cannon blast.
"Something's wrong with her!" The thread of panic in Nightraid's voice made Sideswipe's spark flicker painfully. He couldn't have his sister coming to pieces, not right now.
He cupped a hand around the back of her neck, and pulled her down to him so that their heads were close together. "Listen to me," he ordered, keeping his voice low and flat so as not to give away any of his emotions. "You listen, 'Raid, and listen good. You stay here and back up Sunny, okay? Just hold them off while I get 'Runner out of here and back to the Ark."
Nightraid's optics widened with fear at the prospect of being separated from her sister. "B-but I can't-"
"You can!" Sideswipe tightened his grip to keep his sister in place, having already sensed the coiling and tension in her limbs in an attempt to break his hold on her. "It's really, really important that you stay here and back up Sunny. I want the two of you to cover me, make sure the Seekers don't get to us. And don't worry; the others ought to be on their way. Can you do that?"
"But 'Runner…"
"I'll take care of her. I'll get her to Ratchet as fast as I can. But I need you and Sunny to cover me for that to work. Can you do that?"
At her small, hesitant nod, Sideswipe gave her a quick reassuring smile and a brief kiss on the cheekplate, and maneuvered Shadowrunner a bit in his arms so that he could carry her easily. As soon as he was certain that he could carry her and run without her slipping out of his grasp, he stood up, and gave Nightraid a nod before he turned, and started running back to the Ark.
"Ratchet!"
Ratchet looked up from where he had just finished laying out the tools he would need when the others came back with injuries that needed tending to, and watched as Sideswipe came barreling through the door of the Med Bay, an offline Shadowrunner in his arms.
For a brief moment, he succumbed to the wordless panic that flooded from his spark into his processors, but shook it off just as quickly when he remembered that he could save her, that he could fix her. It was bad, he knew, but if he could fix it, then everything would be all right.
"Put her here." He indicated the nearest empty berth. When he saw the damage to her side, he turned and fired off orders at First Aid and Swoop, to bring him everything he would need for fluid transfusions, as well as an assortment of laser scalpels, clamps, and other sundry items for surgery.
"Sweet Primus…"
"What?" Ratchet snapped, as he turned to face First Aid and Swoop, who were tending to the initial injuries that Shadowrunner had sustained. When he saw the look of horror on First Aid's face, he knew that something was wrong – and whatever it was, it was bad.
And he knew, right then and there, that he couldn't have Sideswipe in the med bay. He could already tell just how fired up Sideswipe was, and if he found out just how bad his sister's condition was, he'd go right off the deep end. He whirled around again, and gave Sideswipe his firmest glare as he pointed to the door. "Get out."
Sideswipe shook his head and gave Ratchet a look so mulish that had this not been an emergency, the CMO would have decided to just pick him up and throw him out on his aft. "No way. I'm staying with her." He jerked his head to indicate Shadowrunner, who was being hooked up to the fluid transfusions that would give her self-repair systems a moment of reprieve.
"Get out!" Ratchet bellowed, the sound backed up by frustration and fear. Fortunately, it had the desired effect. Sideswipe turned, and headed out, the door hissing closed behind him.
Ratchet watched him go with a bit of trepidation. By now he was certain Sunstreaker would sense that something was wrong, and there was a very high chance that the yellow Countach would try to force his way in. With that in mind, he locked the doors, and sent out a message on the shared frequency that if there were any wounded who needed to be brought in, they'd have to tell him first so he could unlock the doors.
- -Huh? Why's that?- - Wheeljack asked over the private comm. link.
- -Because 'Runner was just brought in here, and she's in a really bad ways.- -
- -How bad?- -
- -Not sure yet. Look, just make sure the Twins and 'Raid don't come in here. You know what's going to happen if they come in. Try to distract them or something. And if 'Raid's hurt, you see to her. I need to concentrate on 'Runner.- -
- -… She's gonna be okay, right?- - The worry was clear in Wheeljack's voice, echoing a similar sentiment in Ratchet's spark.
- -I hope she is.- - With that, Ratchet cut the link.
When the femmes had first gotten their alt-modes, he and Wheeljack had made an agreement to make sure that the femmes stayed safe and happy: essentially, taking on what the role of their creator would have been. This was because the creator of the sisters – and of the Twins – was their old mentor, Matchlock. They felt that they owed it to their mentor to look after his creations, and since the Twins had proved long ago they didn't need much looking after, the both of them had decided to look after the femmes instead.
Though they never said it out loud, the two of them each had their favorites. Wheeljack was fondest of Nightraid, mostly because her cheery and optimistic nature was pretty much an echo of the Senior Engineer's own personality. It also helped that Nightraid was a bit of a tinkerer, and didn't mind working with Wheeljack in his lab when she didn't have any other pressing duties.
Ratchet, on the other hand, had taken easiest to Shadowrunner: her maturity in comparison to her siblings' immaturity (and ever since Nightraid had taken after her brothers in their pranks, Ratchet counted her in that estimation) was refreshing to him, as was her quiet thoughtfulness in all the things she did. It was easy to simply sit with her, and not say a word at all – something Ratchet found very relaxing.
And now he had Shadowrunner on his table, and while he thought it was simply the wound to her side and various dings, scratches, and dents, he slowly realized that much of the damage was actually internal – and far graver than he initially thought.
"This internal damage… She can't have gotten this from a fight." First Aid's voice was steady, but Ratchet could easily hear the horror underlying the words.
Swoop was staring at Shadowrunner's bared internals. "Look like she Shadowrunner dis-"
"Swoop, get the small laser scalpel," Ratchet ordered, cutting through Swoop's words before the Dinobot could continue with the thought. What Swoop had been about to say was the only answer as to why Shadowrunner's internals were so damaged, but at the same time it wasn't a possibility he liked to consider. He knew Hook was a sadist, but this… It was beyond anything that Ratchet could have imagined him capable of.
"Boss?"
Ratchet looked up at First Aid, who was looking back at him, concerned. In response, he shook his head, dismissing whatever question the Protectobot might have had, and took the scalpel that Swoop held out for him. He dived straight into his work, putting everything else out of his mind. He tried to think of each injury individually, and not of the damage as a whole. If he thought of it that way, he felt he might go crazy – or march straight into Decepticon Headquarters and tear Hook apart. He couldn't afford to do either.
"…chet…"
Ratchet turned his head so fast at the sound of that weak, feeble voice. He smiled back at Shadowrunner, trying to be as reassuring as possible. He wondered if she could actually see him; her optics were so dim that they might as well have been completely out. "You're going to be fine," he said, and as he did so he felt as if he were trying to convince himself as much as he was trying to convince her. "Sideswipe got you here just in time."
Shadowrunner's optics brightened up a little. "Take…memory banks. Give…data…right away."
"No." He cut one of her sensor arrays in her side, noting how she twitched at that, but it was for the best. That way he could repair her without causing any undue pain. "That can wait."
"Can't." Her optics were flickering again, dulling out as she fought against her overtaxed system's urges to go into stasis lock. "It's important… Prime has to…know…" And then her optics went out completely, stasis lock winning out yet again.
For a while, there was nothing but the sound of them working, and Ratchet was more than glad to ignore Shadowrunner's request. The removal of a Cybertronian's memory banks wasn't an overly difficult task for someone who was trained to do it; he was sure that even Swoop could manage such a removal admirably. The only reason why he didn't want to do it was because of the implication. The removal of a Cybertronian's memory banks was only done when the Cybertronian in question was on the verge of death, or already dead.
Or, if you were like Perceptor, very, very stupid.
Ratchet didn't want to think of Shadowrunner in either of those conditions.
- -Ratchet?- -
Great, he thought wryly, recognizing the voice that came in over his personal frequency. - -She's going to be okay, 'Raid,- - he replied, trying to sound as reassuring as possible.
- -But why'd you send 'Swipe out?- -
- -I can't work with him in here.- -
- -Okay… But Ratchet? We need 'Runner's memory banks.- -
Ratchet froze just before making a cut, finding it disturbing that Nightraid should ask for it when Shadowrunner had just done the same only moments ago. - -Why?- -
- We need it. 'Runner told me before we started that if something happened to her, I was supposed to get her memory banks so it could be shown to Prime right away.- -
Ratchet paused in his work, gazing down at femme Shadowrunner's face. - -… Is it really that important?- -
- -Yes.- -
Nightraid sounded tired, and obviously was sick with worry. He sighed, making both Swoop and First Aid look up at him, though their hands didn't stop doing their work. - -All right. I'll send Swoop over with it right away.- -
At last, some small measure of relief made its way into Nightraid's voice. - -Thanks. I'll be at the Command Center with everyone else.- - And with that, there was a brief crackle as the line was cut, and it was silent once again.
Ratchet stood still for a while, letting Nightraid's request sink in. She wouldn't have asked for this unless it was important. He was reminded of the fact that they were at war, they were all soldiers, and when soldiers had orders, they carried them out.
"Swoop, take 'Runner's memory banks and bring them to 'Raid. She's at the Command Center."
Swoop and First Aid looked up at him, then at each other, before Swoop stepped back, and did as he was told. He removed Shadowrunner's memory banks – really nothing more than a set of chips – and stepped out of the Med Bay. As he did so, Ratchet was relieved to note that there was no one in the hallway – at least, not yet.
Silence settled again in the wake of the door closing, but it only lasted a few nano-kliks, because First Aid asked: "What are you going to tell the Lambos later, when they ask what was wrong with 'Runner?"
"I'll tell them precisely what was wrong with her – but not until we've fixed her."
Ratchet sensed First Aid looking at him thoughtfully, but at length that invisible pressure that came along with being stared faded away, and Ratchet knew that – for now, at least – any questions that First Aid might have had were set aside in favor of the work in front of them.
Sunstreaker was worried. "Are you sure that Ratchet said he'd be able to fix her?"
Nightraid nodded. Although it was good news, she still couldn't help but feel worried. She would have preferred to be in the Med Bay with her, but she knew she couldn't be there. Ratchet had sounded more terse than usual, and she didn't care to try his patience right then.
Also, she didn't know if she could bear to see her sister on one of Ratchet's berths. Certainly, they had been injured before, both back on Cybertron and here on Earth, but this time around, things were different.
Someone nudged her side, and she glanced over at Sideswipe, who was giving her a concerned look. "Are you sure you're alright?"
She managed a small smile back at him. "Yeah, I am. Nothing that Wheeljack couldn't fix himself, or that my systems can't handle later. 'Runner…" She stopped herself from continuing when she saw Sideswipe's optics darken in anger.
"Sunny was telling them that they ought to call you," he muttered, his voice low and angry. "But no. They said that we couldn't."
"Because you really weren't supposed to," Nightraid said softly. "We had to do this alone."
"Yeah, and look where that got 'Runner."
"And if you tried that, we could've gotten killed." Nightraid glared at her brother, who stared at her as if he hadn't expected her to give him that answer. "It was a really tight situation, 'Swipe. If you had called, we would've been in even bigger trouble, and 'Runner…" She shook her head, not allowing her thought processes to go that far. Things were bad enough as they were. There was no need to imagine the worst-case scenario.
They were here now in the Ark, and they were safe. Nothing and no one could harm them here. And 'Runner was in the Med Bay, getting treatment from Ratchet. She would be alright. She had to be alright.
The doors to the Command Center opened with a pneumatic hiss, and when Nightraid looked up she saw Swoop coming over, carrying something very carefully in his hands.
But before he could reach her, Sunstreaker was already in front of him, practically blocking the Dinobot's way. "Is she okay?"
Swoop quickly sidestepped out of Sunstreaker's way. "Him Ratchet and him First Aid fixing her Shadowrunner. But me Swoop give this to her Nightraid. Him Ratchet's orders."
Nightraid stepped up, moving expertly so that she got in Sunstreaker's way. "Thanks Swoop," she murmured, smiling kindly as she accepted Shadowrunner's memory banks. "Please tell Ratchet to contact us as soon as 'Runner's okay."
"Me Swoop will tell him Ratchet." The Dinobot offered her a small, sympathetic smile, before he turned and left, most likely to go back to the Med Bay.
"Are those 'Runner's memory banks?"
Nightraid turned, and placed a hand immediately on Sideswipe's arm. She knew the implications of requesting for a Cybertronian's memory banks, which would explain the sudden fear in her older brother's voice. "It's okay. Ratchet said she's going to be fine, and I believe him. It's just… This is policy between me and 'Runner. If the one with the information's been injured so badly that she can't make a report right away, we're to take her memory banks and load them so that we can get the information without any delay."
"Don't tell me you've done this before," Sunstreaker muttered, glaring down at Nightraid. "I'm no medic, but you'd have to be an idiot with a half-powered processor if you think taking out a Cybertronian's memory banks is safe."
"I know that!" Nightraid snapped. "And yes, we've done it once before. I was so slagged after a run-in with some of Shockwave's troops, but I'd gotten really important information on the location of Shockwave's energon caches. We needed that information, so 'Runner asked Arclight, our medic, to take out my memory banks so she could give the data to Chromia and Elita-One. And I'm fine, aren't I?"
"Have ya got 'em, 'Raid?"
Nightraid turned, and nodded at Jazz. "Here they are." Carefully, she placed the metal chips onto Jazz's hand, who handled them with equal care as he brought them over to Wheeljack. The Lancia then carefully fitted the chips into a reader specially designed to allow Teletraan-One to read the information directly from the chips, and as soon as he put the reader into the designated slot on the console, the data appeared on the main screen.
There was a brief silence, and then Wheeljack turned to Nightraid, looking rather sheepish. "Uh, 'Raid? Something you wanna tell us about this?"
Nightraid looked, and realized that what should have been an arrangement of files and data was instead replaced by what looked like gibberish. Well, it wasn't really gibberish.
It was code.
"Oh! Sorry, I forgot to mention that." Nightraid headed over to the console, and started running a decryption program that she downloaded into Teletraan-1 by means of a finger jack. She smiled apologetically at everyone in the Command Center. "It was an extra precaution those of us who were left on Cybertron took. If we felt that there would be a chance our memory banks might fall into enemy hands, we'd automatically run an encryption program that would encode all of the data in our memory banks so that even if the 'Cons managed to get hold of them intact, they'd have a really hard time trying to decipher it. If we survived, then we'd run our own decryption programs to unlock all the data, but if we didn't, well… At least it'd take a while for the 'Cons to figure it all out. We'd change the code every deca-cycle, although…" She paused, frowning at how long it was taking her decryption program to crack the code, "I get the feeling 'Runner actually played around with it in her spare time…"
"Who created the code?" Wheeljack asked curiously, watching the decryption program at work. "And how come you're able to decrypt it if this is technically 'Runner's code?"
"It was Ultra Magnus' idea, actually, but it was Binary, our chief programmer, who came up with the basic algorithm. She made it so that all codes are based around one core algorithm, but we elaborate on it individually so that we each develop our own codes. Still, since the core algorithm is the same, we can decrypt each other's codes if we have to."
"It's a very good idea, but a little flawed from a security standpoint," Red Alert remarked. "If it's as you say and all the codes are based around one algorithm, then if the 'Cons find out about it the whole thing would be moot, and-"
A soft beeping sound from Teletraan-1 stopped Red Alert from proceeding, indicating that the decryption program had done its job. Nightraid narrowed her optics at the array of data on the screen, and homed-in on one particular set of files.
The data in a Cybertronian's memory banks was arranged and archived in a way that was unique to the individual, so sifting through the data was often a very time-consuming task. In order to expedite the process, those who were closest to the individual were the ones requested to accomplish the task of arranging and processing that data.
Nightraid had to admit that, while it was a rather painful thing to ask of someone who had lost a friend or a lover, it was also the most efficient way. It was usually assumed that closeness between two individuals gave them the opportunity to find out how the other "thought," which in turn would allow them to untangle the file systems faster. As far as Nightraid knew, it had worked: Shadowrunner had gotten the information out faster than anyone could have from that Shockwave incident, and had saved all of them quite a bit of trouble in doing so.
However, she was also aware of the sadder side of it. She remembered how difficult it had been for Binary to sift through the memory banks of her bond Hoverspeed, who had been on a courier mission for Ultra Magnus before he'd met an unfortunate end thanks to Shockwave's drones. Although the bond between her and Hoverspeed had allowed Binary to arrange the data with an almost intuitive speed, everyone knew it had caused her a great deal of spark-ache.
It didn't take long for Nightraid to find the file that she suspected contained the data she needed. There was another file that caught her eye, since it was pretty old and heavily encoded. Knowing that now wasn't the time and place for it, she simply copied it to her own processors and opened the other file – which turned out to be exactly the one they needed.
"It seems she did get all the information we needed," Prowl remarked, optics scanning the blueprints that were brought up onscreen. "Wheeljack, do you think you can work with these?"
"Yup," the Senior Engineer nodded in agreement. "I don't really like 'em much, but the Constructicons certainly knew what they were doin' when they came up with this. At least now that we know what they had in store for us, we can figure out how to fight back in case Megatron decides to use this."
"That's very good," Optimus Prime said then, and when Nightraid turned around she saw the Autobot Commander gazing at her with a warm look in his optics. "You and your sister did a very good job, Nightraid. Please inform me when Ratchet has her back online, all right? Since I plan to debrief you and 'Runner at the same time, you are excused from your other duties."
"Yes sir, and thank you," Nightraid replied with a nod and a grateful smile.
"That will be all, then. Prowl, tell Ratchet to send Swoop to get Shadowrunner's memory banks. Wheeljack, when you come up with an appropriate plan for dealing with this, come and see me in my quarters. Until then, everyone's dismissed."
As everyone except those assigned to do work in the Command Center started shuffling out, Bluestreak came up to her then, a sympathetic smile on his face. "Are you okay, 'Raid? You're not hurt, are you? I mean, I didn't see you going into the Med Bay when you came back so that means you're not hurt, right?"
Nightraid giggled. Count on Bluestreak to make her smile just by talking to her. "Yeah Blue, I'm fine."
"Oh! Well, that's good." Bluestreak's expression brightened immediately. "Say, why don't we go to the Rec Room? Mirage is there and he's been fiddling around with his rifle – remember what he told us before you and 'Runner left? – well he's finished it, and now he wants to test it out. But we wanted you to be around, and now that you are…"
Nightraid shook her head as Bluestreak continued to babble, but she followed him to the Rec Room nevertheless.
That file she'd copied from Shadowrunner's memory banks was still nagging at her, but she put it out of her CPU for the meantime. There would be time to look at it later.
He paced the hall in front of the Med Bay, certain that he was wearing a rut into the Ark's flooring. Not that he really cared right now; he simply had too much on his CPU, and too much worry in his spark, to do anything else. Every now and then he'd stop and stare at the door, hoping that through some miracle or other someone would come out and tell him that she was okay, and that he could go and see her.
"It's not your fault, Jazz."
Jazz stopped, and chuckled wryly, already recognizing the voice that spoke from the other end of the hall. "Can't help but blame myself, even just a li'l bit." He leaned against the wall. "I was th' one who suggested they go, an' I was the one who said we couldn't contact them 'less they contacted us."
Prowl walked over to stand next to him. "It was a tactical decision, and a sound one, as far as we could have foreseen."
"Not gonna ease my conscience, ol' buddy. And it ain't gonna stop the Twins from slaggin' me later once 'Runner's okay." The Twins had both been sent out on patrol duty by Prime. It was better to keep them out of the Ark where they might take their anger and impatience out on something – or someone.
"If she lets them do that. You at least have that one advantage."
But he – the both of them – knew that getting slagged by the Twins was really the least of Jazz's worries. It ran deeper than that, and far closer to the spark.
Prowl's voice, when he asked the question was almost tentative. "You haven't…bonded with her yet, have you?"
Jazz shook his head. "Didn't think it was the right time. Don't think it'll ever be the right time." He raised his head to look at his best friend. "I just… I dunno. Sometimes I think it might've been better if we were bonded, so I'd know if anything went wrong with her, but at the same time… I keep thinkin', it might be better when the war's over, y'know? Nothin' to keep us apart, and not havin' to worry about whether one of us is goin' to just disappear. Can't hurt her that way. Don't wanna hurt her that way."
Prowl remained silent, simply looking back at him, and Jazz could see the concern and understanding in his optics. They both knew what they were risking when they sent the femmes out on their mission, and Prowl knew it could just as easily have been Nightraid in her sister's place, or it could have even been the both of them in there.
But they also understood what they were, who they were. They were all soldiers, devoted to the advancement of the Autobot cause, and they would do whatever their duty called upon them to do – even if it meant getting killed for the cause.
Still, Jazz thought, it didn't mean any of them had to like it.
A long time ago, Jazz knew that he could answer the question "Would you willingly die for your cause?" with all the sincerity in his spark. He would do anything, even give up his own life, if it meant that his death would further the Autobot cause. But ever since Shadowrunner came into his life, the answer to that question had changed somewhat. Certainly, he would do anything he could to end this war in their favor, but when it got to the "dying" part, he hesitated.
Primus, he thought, call him selfish, but he couldn't bear to take leave of this life just yet if it meant leaving Shadowrunner behind.
"Ya think Prime and Ironhide ever feel like this?" he asked softly. "It's gotta be worse for 'em. I mean, they're bonded an' all…"
"I don't know." The Datsun remained silent for a while, before putting a hand on Jazz's shoulder. "Let's go to the Rec Room." His lips curled in a slightly wry smile: a reminder that yes, Prowl did indeed have a sense of humor – if one chose to look for it, or was close enough to him to know about. "You could burn out your optics staring at the door, but it won't open unless Ratchet or Primus himself does so."
Jazz laughed then, and followed Prowl towards the Rec Room, falling in step beside his best friend as they walked. He was about to ask if any progress had been made on a possible countermeasure against Megatron's latest super-weapon, but stopped when Prowl suddenly flinched.
Jazz frowned as he reached over to steady the 2IC. "Hey, what is it?"
This time, he didn't get an answer, because the next thing he knew, Prowl was hurrying down the hallway, taking the shortest path possible, not to the Rec Room or the Command Center, but to Nightraid and Shadowrunner's quarters.
With absolutely no idea as to what was going on, Jazz decided that it was in his best interests to follow him – and find out just what the Pit was going on.
REFERENCES:
The bit about Perceptor being very stupid, which in turn is tied to Ratchet's thoughts about the removal of memory banks, is a reference to one of Tanaigre's story titled "Science in Progress," written for Lonegamer7, wherein Wheeljack, Skyfire and Perceptor get into quite a bit of trouble while Prime, Prowl, and Ratchet are away – all in the name of science, of course. How those memory banks operate, though, is something I made up. The Swoop-as-medic idea may be credited to NightyIcons.
Oh, and about that whole mess regarding codes and whatnot, if it's not in any way possible for such an idea to exist, please chalk it up to artistic license on my part. I figured even if we humans couldn't figure out something like that, then I'm certain Cybertronians could.