Disclaimer: I do not own Transformers in any way, shape or form.

Notes: A huge thank-you to everyone who reviewed!

(The G1 Rainmakers (as far as I know) had no name for their third trine member.)


The meeting was set in the usual place, farther underground than any of Cybertron's many conspiracy theorists cared to scan. Autobots milled about with their handpicked bodyguards, contemplating the various points each wished to bring up at the unofficial meeting.

The tallest, and probably oldest, finally stood and rapped a makeshift gavel against the table. The other Autobots took their seats, the lack of lighting made the bodyguards shift nervously. The bots faceplates were obscured in shadows, creating an illusion of anonymity…and safety.

"Autobots," the eldest said. "We have a slight problem."

"I wonder what that could be." a voice said. Slight laughter broke out; there was always a problem. That was why there were these meetings. These meetings kept Cybertron society functioning.

"A retired Prime, I'm sure you recall him from the Terracon Investigations, has discovered the shell of Highbrow Prime and taken it to the media."

Confused babble broke out, echoing around the tunnel.

"We hid the body so well!

"How?

The eldest rapped the gavel down.

"The Prime in question received a piece of Highbrow Prime's spark which was kept for surgical purposes. Using it, he was able to track down the shell of our disposed-of Intelligence Chief, and raise questions over his 'disappearance'. Namely, the disappearance his successor caused."

"The media needs to be controlled," a smooth voice spoke from the shadows. "We can't have conspiracy theorists running around saying Longarm killed Highbrow. It's enough trouble trying to keep you as Intelligence Chief while you go claiming one of the nobles is a traitor!" the accusation was pointed to their newest member.

"Hey! I had evidence! The traitor was sneaking around the stockades." An angry voice reprimanded.

"Enough!" the eldest exclaimed. "To add to the mess, the reporters have been going into the tunnels, trying to find Agent Blurr and Longarm! So we don't need your digressing on who's a traitor and who's not!"

"Another note," a scratchy voice added. "How would Highbrow's spark have gotten into the servos of the Prime?"

"That doesn't matter now." The eldest replied. "We need a way to contain this damage. If not, we have no case against our scientist's top test subject. If he were to go free, it would only be a matter of time before he engineered a way to get his leader out. And we're not ready for another war just yet."

"Why not let the press know Longarm is Shockwave?" another asked. "Then the case would be solid."

"Too risky," the eldest shot back. "Then those bleeding sparks would want to know why the fugitive Wasp wasn't let back into society by now. The Predacons, as far as the citizens of Cybertron are concerned, do not exist. We've already made the error of overpublicizing Wasp's escape."

"No one believes Decepticons anyway," the smoother voice said. "We have another matter to discuss…"


Not too far away from the meeting, Arcee cursed listening to Swindle at all. The route he had given her was ever changing and required many trackbacks and diversions. So far, she'd wandered into three collapsed tunnels and tripped over two potholes.

Overly paranoid glitch, she thought darkly. Why'd I let him into my apartment?

She wasn't even sure what she was supposed to say to Acid Storm and Ravage when she found them.

A soft clang to her right echoed through the tunnels, and Arcee drew her blaster. She hadn't used the thing in stellar cycles. It crossed her mind that Swindle might be able to teach her to use more advanced weaponry, after he finished scamming her into buying it. Perhaps he could even—

An unseen force slammed her into the wall, causing her to let out a gasp as the air was shoved out of her vents.

A seeker, twice her size, glared down at her.

"What're you doing here?"

His arm-mounted weapon pressed her to the tunnel wall. Despite his size, the seeker stood upright in the tunnel easily.

"Swindle sent me!" she choked out. The impact had left her breathless.

"Talk is cheap, Autobot. You have ten nanokiliks, or I'll feed you to Ravage."

He released her.

"Swindle told me to come here to find Acid Storm and Ravage and organize the prison break. He said you guys would handle the rest."

Faster than she could blink, the seeker had snapped a pair of stasis cuffs on her and was dragging her along.

They entered a room dimly lit, cluttered with spare parts and bots in various states of disrepair.

A scuttling around her feet caused Arcee to look down. A bot with several spindly legs scuttled along the floor, pausing to look up at her before it scampered off into the shadows.

What's this? A cold voice spoke in her processor. Arcee flinched; she really didn't want another bot poking around in there. This new bot was probably a telepath, a subspecies of Cybertronians that had been much more common before the war began.

"She said Swindle sent her." apparently, the seeker had heard the voice as well.

Interesting. A lithe black form leapt up onto a medical table and studied her.

It was a black and gray panther bot, red optics aglow with energy, a sharp contrast to the apparent listlessness of the seeker and small bot.

Who are you, femme? It asked, cocking its head to one side.

"Arcee." She cursed how soft her voice sounded.

The seeker jostled her. "She's a spy, Ravage. Swindle never said anything about her."

Ravage purred deeply, stretching and leaving claw marks on the table.

She's on our side for now. Relax Jetlag. Tell Acid Storm to call off the lockdown. I'll deal with her.

"But-"

Leave. Now.

The seeker grunted and left Arcee alone with the panther-bot.

You can take the stasis cuffs off. They're not online.

She complied and said aloud, "What if I tried to run?"

Ravage bared his teeth, which were covered with dried energon.

You'd be dead before you made a move.

"Swindle said you and Acid Storm would come up with a plan."

And we will. But you and Swindle need to know it, don't you.

Imaged flashed in her processor, layouts of the stockades, personnel files, forged identities, and hideouts. A vague plan was formulating inside both their heads.

Tell Swindle what you now know. And tell him he has ten more solar cycles before time's up for him.

"What did Megatron do to him?"

Ravage purred in a way that resembled a laugh.

Planted a bomb in his helm for abandoning his lieutenants onboard the Steelhaven. Swindle was not pleased.

That explained things a bit.

You may go and contact Flip Sides. And while you're at it, learn to use a slightly more…modern weapon. Blades perhaps.

"How'd you know about Flip Sides?"

I'm in your mind, aren't I? Perhaps the fourth visitor, but the one who will leave the least impression. I would suggest giving whoever fixed your memory chips a huge thank you. The exit is to the right. Farewell.

The eldest cleared his throat. Not much time had passed since the beginning of their latest meeting, but it certainly had become one of the most productive.

"As soon as possible, the Prime will be dealt with, in a way the conspiracy theorists won't suspect. Or will look ridiculous for trying to say we instigated it." He paused before continuing,

"Our scientists will continue attempting to unravel the program of mass shifting.

"Our experiment will proceed as planned. No one short of a telepath can discover our scientist's programming."

"Are you sure?" A voice asked. "You've been wrong about her this whole time. The subject hasn't been behaving like your scientists said she would. The first thing she does is run to the Decepticons!"

"Neurological programming is a very hypothetical study." The eldest fought to keep his voice even. "Have no fear, the subject will behave as programmed."


Ratchet waited outside her apartment.

"Your door must be broken," he said gruffly. "It won't let anybot in."

She swallowed. Swindle.

"Yeah. I have to call a maintenance bot over soon." Arcee had a feeling Ratchet wasn't standing around to discuss the broken door.

Ratchet shuffled his pedes for a cycle before beginning.

"Arcee, I know I told you it would be at least five decacycles before they would ask you to witness before the Council, but several breakouts have already been attempted, and Security wants to get the whole thing over and done," He handed her a form. "They're expecting you in two solar cycles."

She studied the form halfheartedly. The usual witness protection the Council coated potential witnesses with false promises of protection in order to make them fell safer if they testified.

Right now, Arcee was more worried about the Autobot's witness protection.

"And since you refused to allow Perceptor or Wheelack to examine your processor for anything that slagger Shockwave might've left in, compliance of protection laws he passed are necessary." Ratchet looked angrier than Arcee had ever seen him. Then again, she didn't know him all that well.

"But if he was just an imposter, wouldn't anything that Longarm passed be ineffective?"

Ratchet looked uncomfortable for a cycle.

"Yes and no. The Council is trying to cover up the whole imposter mess. That's the basis they're keeping him on; the murder of Longarm and your abduction. You need to testify that Shockwave abducted you from the medical centre and forcibly restored your memories."

"Even if half of it's on false charges?" that had been he wrong thing to say.

His blue optics studied hers. "Are you sure he didn't leave anything damaging in your processor?"

"Yes I'm sure! Wouldn't I be running around with the Decepticons by now if he had?" she exclaimed; Ratchet's suspicions had been bothering her as well.

The look in his optics forced her to take back her hard words.

"A mock advocate will be coming by to help you prepare tomorrow. I am sorry Arcee. This was too soon."

He patted her shoulder awkwardly and left.

As soon as she could without raising suspicion from Ratchet, she pounded on her own door.

"Swindle," Arcee said loudly. "Let me in."

The door hissed open to reveal an unsmiling Swindle. Five energon cubes lay discarded on the counter.

"I heard all about it," Swindle said. "We've got a lot to discuss."


End notes: Hope you enjoyed. How's my writing? Press the review button and tell me!

Next Chapter: What's Shockwave been up to all this time? Nothing pleasant; that's for sure.