Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers.
Desperate Measures
Chapter Two: New Developments
The hospital, as usual, was incredibly busy. Ironhide had never been particularly comfortable near repair bays or anything of the like. Perhaps it was because he had spent so much time there over his considerable lifespan. Or maybe it was the fact that Ironhide liked to be control of his situation, to be able to grab it by the electro-horns and wrestle it into submission.
And if there was one thing he could not do while he was in a hospital, it was be in control.
It wasn't that he didn't trust the doctors; far from it. The doctor they were now on their way to see was one of the few Autobots that Ironhide would trust not only with his life, but with someone else's. It was that he had never, and probably never would, understand medicine, be it Transformer or organic, and though he would never admit it to anyone, this lack of knowledge scared him. He had no idea what was going on when any medic was repairing him, from wounds both minor and nigh-on fatal.
Kup was the only person he ever told. He had promptly told him to stop whining.
Looking back on the moment, Ironhide couldn't agree more with Kup's assessment. It was best to just put it out of his head.
He looked over at Optimus, whose expression was blank, as always. But Ironhide had learnt over the astrocycles to see through his leader's faceplate, and the façade he put on when in front of the Autobots who worked under him. In public, Optimus would be reserved, controlled and confident. Behind closed doors, his proud posture would slump and he would become the more everyday 'Bot that Ironhide knew him to be; a slightly insecure Autobot who had quite the temper if provoked.
But it was all so well hidden, few outside of Ironhide, Kup, Elita and Ultra Magnus could see it. Ironhide smiled at all the times that young upstart Autobots had given Prime attitude and had no idea how close to death they had been.
"Prime!"
The two looked up to see Trailbreaker approaching from down the corridor.
"He's in room 4A."
The Autobot leader nodded and followed Trailbreaker. Ironhide looked over at the black Autobot.
"So how're things at Uraya?"
Something flashed across Optimus' optics, but he said nothing. Trailbreaker frowned.
"The Autobots are all repaired, but all signs point to the Decepticons moving on to Uraya after they're done with Polyhex."
Ironhide nodded. "Who's taken over command?"
Optimus brought his head up slightly, as though something had just occurred to him, but he didn't want anyone else to notice.
Ironhide glanced at Trailbreaker. Judging by his expression, the black Autobot hadn't seen anything unusual.
"One of Ultra Magnus' mechs," Optimus said, keeping his gaze forward. "Prowl, I think." He paused. "He's doing rather well in the post."
They came to a stop at the entrance to one of the wards. The door slid open and a nurse 'Bot busily rushed past them with a tray of various tools. Optimus stood aside to let her pass before making his way inside, Ironhide and Trailbreaker following.
"Ratchet, eh?" Trailbreaker said, looking around the room.
Ironhide looked over at him. "You've met him?"
"I've just heard rumours," he replied, shrugging. "Mostly about his… unorthodox methods."
"And his bedside manner," Optimus added quietly.
Ironhide put up his hands in mock surrender. "All right, all right. It know it doesn't sound good, but trust me; this mech is the best there is."
A resounding shriek of pain came from Inferno where he lay on one of the operating tables.
"Aaah, quit your belly-achin'! You'd think I was operatin' on a newborn spark!"
"But it hurts, doc!"
"Oh, why didn't ya say so? Because pain isn't a part of what you do at all!"
After shooting Ironhide a 'You were saying?' look, Optimus made his way over to the irritable Autobot. It was a fact that Optimus Prime did most of communicating with looks, whether the recipient understood them or not.
"Look, if you'd just stop wriggling you'd be outta here!"
"Well, maybe if you stopped poking that thing halfway into my leg, I might STOP WRIGGLING!"
"The more you yell at me, the more painful I'll make it!"
"Oh, is that right?"
Ratchet looked up and stared Inferno in the optics, his voice lowering to the most deadly of murmurings. "You're damn right, it is."
Inferno promptly shut up and lay back down. Optimus seemed ready to speak when Ironhide put a hand on his shoulder. The Autobot leader looked over at him questioningly. Ironhide's only response was a warning shake of the head.
Ratchet didn't like to be disturbed while he was working.
Ever.
After pulling away the tool with which he was working, Ratchet made a grunting noise that seemed to indicate he was satisfied with his work.
"There? Now was that so hard, you little femme?"
Inferno said nothing. He just hoisted himself up off the table and made his way out, grumbling something long and very explicit as he went.
Ratchet turned his attention to Optimus, and then spotted Ironhide.
"You're in for repairs again? Ah, what the heck did ya do this time, ya-"
Optimus brought up a blue finger. "My apologies. Ironhide is with me." He extended his hand.
"I'm-"
"The great and illustrious Optimus Prime, I know." He turned to his tools, performing some kind of maintenance on them. "And for what grand purpose have you decided to grace me with your presence?"
Ironhide waved Optimus in front of him in a 'go on' gesture. The Autobot leader steeled his resolve and stepped forward.
"The Autobot Council has… requested that I lead a team of Autobots on an expedition into outer space."
"What kind of expedition?"
"I'm afraid that's classified. You'll find out if you agree to come along."
"Well, I'm not likely to come along unless I know what I'll be doing, am I? Am I gonna be repairin' 'Bots that have been ripped to shreds by Regulan Metal Mongers?"
"I should hope not."
Ratchet sighed, and set down one of the tools. He turned to look at Optimus. "Is this a scientific mission?"
"…of a sort, yes."
The medic opticed Prime for a moment and spotted something on his left arm. "Primus. How long have you had that?"
Optimus glanced down at his arm; there was a dent on the elbow joint that had been giving him some trouble, but nothing horrific.
"It's nothing."
"Nothing, my aft. C'mere." He reached out and grabbed the Autobot leader's arm, pulling it towards him.
"Really, it's all r-" Optimus' words were caught in his vocal processor as Ratchet twisted the arm slightly and caused the dent to make a popping noise. Prime inspected his elbow. It was as if it had never been damaged in the first place.
"How did you…?"
Ironhide grinned. "Told ya."
Ratchet leant against the operating table. "The mission is because of the Energon shortage, isn't it?"
Optimus brought his attention back to the conversation. "I can't tell you that."
A small smile appeared, but vanished as quickly as it arrived. "Right."
Optimus straightened his posture. "We need a medic for the crew. Ironhide speaks rather highly of you, as do others I've spoken to. Are you interested?"
Ratchet crossed his arms and bowed his head in thought for a moment. He looked back up at Optimus. "Tell ya what. I'll come aboard if-" he added quickly, responding to the smile spreading across Ironhide's face. "If… you do a little favour for me. Okay?"
An optic ridge rose behind Trailbreaker's visor. "What kind of favour?"
"You'll be needing an engineer, right?"
Optimus shook his head. "The position has been filled." He paused. "Why?"
"Because I've got a friend who'd be perfect for the job, and he needs some reason to get out of his lab. He's not just ignoring the war, he's cut himself off from the outside world entirely."
"I see. And if we agreed to take this Autobot-"
"His name's Wheeljack."
"…if we agreed to take Wheeljack as our engineer, you-"
"-will jump on board without complaint."
Now it was Optimus' turn to cross his arms in thought. "I'll consider it."
Trailbreaker came forward to object.
"If I can meet him," Prime added, putting up a hand to stop Trailbreaker.
Ratchet nodded, smiling. "All right. His lab's in sector 24."
Ironhide frowned. "That's it?"
"Don't worry. You won't be able to miss it if you tried." He smirked evilly. "Just look for the weird coloured explosions."
This time, it wasn't just Ironhide who could see the expression on Optimus' face.
It was one that seemed to say; 'What have I gotten myself into?'
It made Ratchet grin like a maniac.
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Elita One was a maniac.
Springer had decided. It had taken him a while to come to this well thought out and eminently intelligent realisation, but now he had finally reached the conclusion that Elita One was a completely and totally insane.
How else does one describe an Autobot who will run into the path of Megatron's fusion cannon for no other reason than to piss him off?
Maybe Optimus Prime was insane too, behind closed doors. That would explain a lot. Like, for instance, why he wasn't here helping them in battle but rather off doing something else that Ultra Magnus wasn't permitted to talk about.
"Wise Autobot Council, my aft."
"You say somethin'?"
Springer glanced over his large shoulder at Powerglide, who was busy inserting another power cartridge into his weapon.
"Nothing. Just wondering why the Autobot Council – being the great sages that they are – have elected to send us to this Primus forsaken city."
"Oh. Well, as long as it's nothing."
A tight smile spread across the triple changer's lip components.
"Okay… you ready?" he asked, preparing to leap out from under the toppled Autobot transport.
"Y'know… I'd feel a whole lot better waiting here for a better opening."
"Waiting is for femmes, my friend."
"Like that one, you mean?" Powerglide asked, pointing across the battlefield at Elita One, who was dancing between laser blasts as she darted from one but of cover to another.
"Good point. But still, if we wait here, someone's bound to spot us, and knowing your luck, it'll be Megatron."
Powerglide looked at his scorched back plating and sighed. "Fine. But I'd like the record to say that I didn't want to."
"Duly noted."
"So which way are we goin'? To our left, where Red Alert is currently talking Warpath's audio sensors off about tactical errors, or to our right, where we have the aforementioned crazy femme attracting all sorts of hell?"
Springer rubbed his optics. "You know, you make a mech not want to jump into the line of fire."
"It's a gift."
The Wrecker looked from one end of the battle field to the other. "You know what? Screw it. I'm going to go for the femme."
"Hey, it's the way I always wanted to die."
With a grim smile and a shake of his head, Springer decided that he was a maniac as well.
"Okay, on three. One, two… three!"
Springer launched himself into the air using his powerful legs, being careful not to go too high as to attract the attention of the Cone-head seekers, but not too low to be caught in the crossfire. Behind him he could hear the low pitch whine of Powerglide's engine as he flew at the same height.
He prepared himself for a landing and slammed to the ground, quickly going into a roll to get behind cover, joining Kup there.
"What took you, lad?" he said without looking at him, dipping his head around the corner and firing off a few sporadic shots.
"Just a little debate. Speaking of which…"
Springer turned in time for Powerglide to crash into him, knocking them both to the ground.
Powerglide pushed himself off with a grunt. "See? Piece a' oil cake."
"Yeah. Real easy."
"Oh, no…"
The two looked over at Kup, who had since stopped firing. Elita One dashed in, slightly breathless.
"What in the name of Primus are they doing there? They're supposed to be on the other side of the planet!"
Kup shook his head, his face a mix of confusion and fear. "Cosmos said they were!"
Elita peeked around the side of the cover. "I hope to Primus that Ultra Magnus was able to get to that stockpile in time."
Springer got up to look around, and Powerglide looked between the two. "Why? What's going on?"
The triple changer looked over at him.
"Looks like Devastator's decided to join the party."
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"Slag it! Take cover!"
Ultra Magnus quickly darted to his right, smashing down a door that once led into someone's office. Purple laser fire flashed past, bathing the room in its' brilliant hue.
Blitzwing and Octane had been effectively stalking them through the corridors of the building since they had first seen Magnus and Smokescreen enter it. They had been looking for the secret weapons stockpile that Magnus had planted in the city in case the battle didn't go their way.
Which, upon Megatron's arrival, it really wasn't.
Smokescreen had ducked into the room opposite, which had actually turned out to be a janitorial closet. He would occasionally poke his head out to fire off some shots, but for the most part, they were both pinned down.
The City Commander carefully walked over to the doorway and peeked around, firing his rifle the entire time. As Blitzwing and Octane took cover, Magnus quickly surveyed the area for any ways in which they might lose their pursuers. He looked above the two, and saw a very unstable ceiling.
He ceased fire and waited for the two triple changers to resume firing. Magnus fired one of his shoulder missiles at the ceiling above their heads, and ducked back into the office. Smokescreen winced as he heard the heavy metal collapse on their enemies, their yelps almost comical.
Smokescreen smirked grimly and nodded his way, and the two continued out into the corridor, turning right before the pile of groaning rubble before them.
They reached a door roughly twice the size of the others in the complex, with a small control panel next to it. Magnus punched in his clearance code and the doors loudly slid open, coming to a halt with a loud clang. The two made their way in, and Smokescreen saw to closing the doors behind them while Magnus prepared the missile launcher.
Usually, it would take four Autobots or so to push the launcher into the correct position, but with Ultra Magnus enhanced strength, it was an easy enough task for the two of them to take care of.
The City Commander looked through the rectangular slit in the wall and grimaced.
"Load it up quick, Smokescreen. Devastator's arrived."
Smokescreen nodded and opened the hatch at the back of the cannon, quickly inserting a missile.
He fired it, the missile roaring into life in midair, freeing itself of its protective casing before rocketing into the gestalt.
It exploded with a brilliant flash, and Ultra Magnus could have sworn he could hear some Autobots down below whooping for joy. After exchanging a quick smile with Smokescreen, he handed him the next missile.
Devastator wasn't giving up. The missile blast had only knocked him off balance, and now he was making his way to the source of the attack.
Smokescreen fired again. This time, Devastator's hand came up impossibly quick and batted the missile into the air, where it exploded above the gestalt's head. He continued coming straight at them.
"We may need another plan," Smokescreen noted.
A giant purple hand crashed through the wall, grabbing the missile launcher and tossing it into the middle of the battlefield. Although they knew it was futile, Ultra Magnus and Smokescreen opened fire on him regardless, hoping they would somehow get lucky. The hand continued forward, unimpeded by their laser blasts.
Then, the hand began to pull away. As it went, it seemed to increase in speed until Devastator was completely gone from their line of vision. Magnus and Smokescreen frowned at each other, confused. That was, until a booming voice assaulted their audio receptors.
"ASSISTANCE: OFFERED. DEVASTATOR'S CHANCES OF SURVIVAL: NEGLIGIBLE."
If such a thing were possible, a goofy grin would have crossed Ultra Magnus' face.
"Any time, Supreme."
If the hulking sentry acknowledged him, Ultra Magnus couldn't see it. Omega Supreme just continued forward at Devastator, who was picking himself up off the floor. The gestalt swung a huge fist at its opponent, who merely caught it in a claw like hand.
Magnus nodded at Smokescreen, indicating that they should get down to ground level and reunite with the rest of the troops.
Supreme brought about his laser cannon hand, and fired it at Devastator's shoulder joint, blasting it off. Yowling in pain, Scavenger transformed and fell into stasis before he even hit the ground. This seemed to send a shockwave of sorts through to the rest of the Constructicons, as Devastator's form began to fluctuate and shudder.
Omega Supreme swung his claw like hand around again, nailing Devastator in the chin and knocking it on its back, where the gestalt fell apart. Supreme continued his attack, attempting to crush, bludgeon, or blast the Constructicons as they fled the area.
Down on the battlefield, Powerglide turned to Springer, smirking.
"Told ya."
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Reflector thought that Megatron's jaw would separate from his head if he clenched it any tighter. It was quite the remarkable experience, actually. Megatron had gone from serious tactics to cackling smugness, and then to quiet, fuming rage.
The Decepticons spy knew which state of emotions was the most dangerous.
"What are your orders, Megatron?"
He didn't respond.
Reflector paused, and then decided to repeat the question.
"Megatron?"
"My orders are to get away!"
The small Decepticons leapt slightly and ran for cover. After looking around the area, Megatron transformed into his alternate mode of a Cybertronian tank.
A strange noise began to fill his audio receptors, as though all sounds were being pulled away from him. He looked over at Megatron, only then realising what he was planning to do.
He promptly took cover much further away from the Decepticon leader.
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Ultra Magnus skidded to a halt next to Elita, peeking over their makeshift cover.
"Why have they stopped firing?" Elita asked quietly, moving her head this way and that in an effort to see what was going on.
"I'm not sure… I-" his words caught in his vocal processor, and he brought up his wrist, activating his comm unit.
"Tracks, this is Ultra Magnus. Come in, Tracks."
Static filled the screen for a moment, but was eventually replaced by the grey and red face of Tracks.
"Yes?"
"See if you can get a look at what Megatron's doing, would you?"
"I'll try my best, Magnus, which, as you know, is pretty damn good."
"Right…" Magnus mumbled.
There was a brief pause as Tracks had a look with his optic enhancer visor, and then was back just as quickly.
"Magnus, I might suggest Omega Supreme make a hasty retreat."
"Why? What's going on?"
Tracks was silent for a moment. "Megatron is preparing to channel a black hole."
Ultra Magnus, Elita One, and everybody around them froze. Megatron had only channelled a black hole twice before, and each time he had almost died, at least according to their sources. But the devastation he would cause with just one blast…
The City Commander looked at his other troops, and then activated his comm.
"Omega Supreme, come in."
No reply.
"Omega! Respond! You're in danger!"
"DANGER: MINIMAL. CONSTRUCTICONS: RETREATING."
"The Constructicons aren't the only thing to worry ab-"
Omega Supreme cut the channel.
"Dammit!" Magnus angrily slammed the button deactivating his comm device.
Springer looked at the battlefield, then at Magnus.
"What's the plan?"
He shrugged. "There's nothing we can do, at least for Omega. If we try and stop him, either he'll trample us on his way to the Constructicons or a Decepticon will get a lucky shot in. And none of us could reach Megatron in time, or guarantee that they could stop him from firing if they did reach him."
Elita nodded. "Then that means we have to get all other Autobots in the area out of the line of fire." She lifted her wrist to her lip components, activating her comm. "All right, Autobots, listen up! Megatron's about to fire something pretty nasty at Omega Supreme, and it'll probably take anyone near him with it! Let's move it, Autobots!"
Autobots all over the battlefield emerged from their hiding places and moved away from Omega Supreme, hoping that whatever cover they chose was far enough away to hide them from Megatron's blast.
Suddenly, all noise from the battlefield seemed to drain away.
It was the usual precursor to Megatron firing his cannon, even when it wasn't powered by a black hole. The effect was just so minimal when he was using it normally, it was barely noticeable.
"Everyone on the ground!" Kup yelled, leaping down himself and covering his head with his hands.
Megatron fired.
There was barely any noise to accompany it; just a sound like something slicing through the air. Something that sounded like it could cut through anything.
Then, all the noises of the battlefield suddenly returned. Magnus slowly peeked around the side, and saw a shadow creeping over them as Omega Supreme fell back onto them, a gaping hole in his chest. Ultra Magnus quickly turned.
"MOVE!"
The group of Autobots all ran or transformed out of the way before the giant of an Autobot crashed to the ground, making what seemed to be the entire city shake.
Magnus and the others dove behind a bare skeleton of a building.
"Everyone okay?"
They all nodded an affirmative, checking themselves and each other over for damage.
With a grimace, Ultra Magnus brought his comm to his lip components.
"All Autobots; prepare to retreat."
Kup came forward. "What about Omega Supreme? We can't just leave him out there!"
Ultra Magnus cocked an optic ridge as he looked down at the elder Autobot. "Do you know anyone who can carry him?"
Kup was silent, although his frustration was evident.
The City Commander sadly turned to his troops.
"I'm sorry, everyone. But it looks like Polyhex is a lost cause."
Springer crossed his arms. "One down, two to go," he muttered.
Perhaps someone should have reprimanded him for the comment.
But no-one did. Mostly because they were feeling the same thing. The Decepticons had been winning battle after battle for too long now.
And it didn't look like it would stop anytime soon.
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(A/N: Not much to add to this except… review!)