HOLYYYYYYYYY PRIMUS this took a long time to do, im sorry D:
some of you probably think it's dead, but it certainly isn't! gosh i haven't even gotten to the good bits yet. It's just Uni and life and 'the cure' eating up my time and brainspace, so this is slow, but sure.
Well... i do get to a good bit in this chapter.
Yes, you find out what the Postcard is.
Oh btw i directly used some dialogue from 'where is thy sting', cause this falls before that episode but ive had to twist some of the timeline events. Wasp will come in much later.
I can't think of anything else to say and i'm too lazy to find and cut and paste in the time-measurements key and whatever, but if you've read the other chapter forewords you should know by now anyways.
Plz enjoy my sick twisted metalurgist mind. Being a jeweller has it's benefits when you can apply your own metalsmithing techniques as torture methods in TF fiction *evil laugh*
~Death out.
"Anything yet Ratchet?" Optimus asked for the third time that cycle.
With a heaving sigh through his vents, Ratchet pushed away from the console and ran a servo exasperatedly over his faceplate.
"Nothin'. Slagging nothing! Without Omega and teletran, I've got no hope of contacting them. Short of Bulkhead making that spacebridge, which'll take too long to be useful, we're completely cut off. All we can do is hope the Elite Guard are passing through by chance." Ratchet grumbled bitterly.
Optimus offlined his optics and ran his digits over the covers, hoping the temporary disuse of his sight might afford his processor some room to think of what they were going to do now.
"I'm going to review some more footage and see if I can't get a clue as to where their ship is at least." Ratchet said, going back to the console and typing away speedily, bringing up different images on the various screens. Optimus decided to help him, seeing as there was little to nothing else he could do.
And he still needed something to keep him distracted from the maddening itches in his joints.
"How could you have just LOST their signal? It was a whole SHIP for crying out loud!"
Jazz's face gave the smallest twitch, but he kept his back to his fragged off commander so it was not seen.
"It was headin' for Earth S.P. You know the moisture on that planet makes it a bad scene for signal detection." The black and white mech responded in his usual calming, smooth tones. Unfortunately, the information in his voice made it's tone useless.
Sentinel let out an overly loud groan. "Not THAT pit-slagging planet again. And you'll address me as SIR." The blue and yellow Prime added primly in his irritation.
"Sure thing Sentinel Prime sir." Jazz said flatly back as he continued to scan for the lost Decepticon ship.
They had arrived at the Space-Bridge port where Rodimus and his crew had been overwhelmed, and as soon as they had picked up the badly damaged unit of Autobots, they had chased after the fleeing Decepticons per Ultra-Magnus' orders.
Normally they would have been let go, but when they were tracked heading in the vicinity of earth (Megatron's last known location), it had been decided that they ought not to be allowed to re-unite with their leader and strengthen his troops base.
"What do ya wanna do Sentinel Prime sir?" Jazz asked, used to the game of having to keep up the formal address until his boss was in a good enough mood to let it slide again like he usually did.
Sentinel heaved a dramatic sigh of his vents. "I don't suppose we have much choice but to follow them down there."
Jazz set in the co-ordinates before getting up and mentioning something about going to see how the twins and their other tag-alongs were holding up.
He knew better than to hang around the Blue and yellow mech when they were heading somewhere the Prime detested. He didn't feel much like having his audios chewed off with constant complaints, especially the ones directed at Optimus, which tended to get under the black and white ninja's plating a little more, given he actually respected the Red and Blue Prime. If only he truly WERE still a Prime… Jazz would have transferred to Optimus' team in a spark beat given the chance… Pit, he'd still be willing to transfer, even if they went back to fixing space bridges, hanging with the other crew in any circumstance was preferable to taking orders from Sentinel.
Jazz sighed softly through his vents, drawing on his eternal well of zen like calm.
If it was meant to be, it would be. For now, he'd go with the flow the way he always did, and diffuse and deflect his commanders moods as was necessary. No point letting them rub his plating up the wrong way.
Jazz walked past the engine room and popped his head through the door to check on the jet twins. He had been a little surprised to find their competence for fixing and running ship engines was so great. He'd known they were formerly refinery bots, but it seemed they had always dabbled in engine repairs to earn some extra credits. He couldn't blame them. Refinery work was one of the worst paying and dangerous jobs on Cybertron. And as much as they seemed ecstatic at their new rate of pay in their prestigious Elite Guard positions, Jazz knew it would be too easy for the higher ups to take advantage of the two young, naive and highly skilled mechs. He had made it his mission to watch out for the two.
After ascertaining that they were both so bored working the engine with laughable ease that they had been playing 'I spy' for the last half a cycle, Jazz moved on to see how the others were doing.
They had picked up Ironhide and Brawn when they had finally reached the space-bridge outpost that Rodimus' team had been defending.
Ultra Magnus himself had gotten special clearance to take the rest of Rodimus' team straight to the space bridge nexus on Cybertron so they could receive urgent medical attention, but Ironhide and Brawn, upon hearing Ultra Magnus order Sentinel and his team after the 'Cons, had insisted on coming. And given that their injuries were the least significant of any of their team members, the Elite Guard commander had allowed it.
"You two bots cool down here?" Jazz asked as he strolled into the cargo hold where the two extra crew members were hanging out, letting their self-repair systems patch up their minor damage.
"About as cool as you can be when you've been kicked around by 'Cons and blown up once or twice." Grumbled Brawn, rubbing his cranial unit in an effort to soothe away his throbbing processor ache.
"You guys still sure you wanna go after these 'Cons? You look like you'd rather have a few cycles recharge." Jazz asked calmly, but he was pretty sure he knew what the answer was going to be.
Ironhide guffawed. "Recharge rather than chase those pit slaggers? Over my glitched and offline chassis."
Jazz gave him a crooked smile. "Alright, if you think you're up for it, I ain't saying the extra help isn't needed. We're headed for Earth. Got a team of bots down there that'll need our help if the 'Cons that attacked you end up going after them. Or worse, join up with the other forces Megatron has on that planet."
"What other forces are we talking about exactly?" Brawn asked with gruff apprehension.
"Just a few of Megatron's top lieutenants." Jazz replied casually.
The other two gaped at him.
"Like who exactly?" Ironhide baulked at him.
"Hmmm, well Starscream probably headed back when he escaped from captivity, then there's that triple-changing glitch-mouse Blitzwing and Lugnut usually hangs with him."
The other two looked from him to each other and back again.
"We gotta get those fraggin 'Cons before they meet up with any o' those pit demons, or your Earth bots will be in a world o' pain." Ironhide stated rather mater-of-factly.
"We wouldn't know any of these mechs stationed on Earth would we?" Brawn asked apprehensively.
"Probably not. They're space bridge techs. Got tangled in a whole lotta wacked out jive when the all-spark fell into their laps. If it weren't for Optimus' team the Decepticons woulda got a hold on it Megacycles ago." Jazz said with the smallest hint of awe in his tone.
"Wait… Optimus? As in Optimus Prime? Ain't he the one that got kicked outta the academy? Didn't know he'd been shunted into Space Bridge Repair. Who's on his team?" Ironhide asked curiously, having heard several stories from other Elite Guard members about the disgraced Prime.
"Well, ya might know Ratchet. He's their medic. Played a pretty big part back in the great wars, but I don't think it's something he's very proud of. Got a cyber-ninja on their team too, that's Prowl. An the other two are space bridge expert Bulkhead and their scout Bumblebee… what?"
Jazz gave Ironhide an enquiring if not annoyed look as the large red mech laughed heartily.
"Bulkhead and Bumblebee? Oh you gotta be kiddin' me, they got busted to space-bridge grunts? Why am I not surprised!"
"You know em?" Brawn growled in what for him passed as curious.
"Know 'em? They were in boot camp with me when I first signed up! Pair o' total glitch-detail-flunkies, those two were practically made for each other. One was big, dumb n clumsy, n' the other was small, over-confident and clumsy. Couldn't find two bots less likely to graduate training."
"Well technically Bulkhead DID graduate. He's the top subject matter expert on Space bridges. He WANTED to be an S.B tech as far as I know." Jazz replied coolly, not feeling sure the red front-liner was entirely justified in his scorn.
"Yea, well that may be, but it don't mean he's not still the clumsiest thing to come offa the energon farms. And that Bumblebee! Man, if I had a cube o' energon for every time that glitch got us all transform-up detail, I'd be richer than a tower mech."
"I don't suppose Sentinel is too happy about visiting his old drop-outs then?" Brawn drawled, still rubbing faintly at his helm, though the pain was slowly fading to a very dull ache.
Jazz pulled another crooked smile.
"Earth's never really been S.P's scene. First time we landed he got his body stolen by some organic kid, and Optimus had to save his skid-plates. And S.P never really sees eye-to-optic with the locals…"
"Wait… did you say organic?" Brawn asked sharply, his processor stabbing a little more forcefully again. Ironhide's optics widened.
Jazz smirked a little, knowingly. Ironhide would never admit to being afraid to any degree, but the look in his optics told Jazz that the Red mech only knew the stories about organics rather than any factual information. And Cybertronian tales of non-Techtronic life forms were wildly different from the earth realities Jazz knew.
But he wasn't about to spoil his own fun by letting them KNOW that…
"Oh yea. Place is covered in squishy stuff." he said with a broad smile, wishing he had Prowl there to share his joke with.
The other two gave each other startled looking glances.
"Is it BIG squishy stuff? As in, the kind you can't incinerate if it looks at'cha the wrong way?" Ironhide asked, as if wondering whether he should walk around with his armour plating activated the whole time.
"Well, no, not all of it is. The Big stuff doesn't move, it's just vegetation. It's the little ones ya gotta watch out for."
Jazz would have to rope in that organic girl that hung out with Bumblebee to play a little joke on these bots once they arrived. It would serve Ironhide right especially… Bulkhead and Bumblebee may not have been Elite Guard material yet, but it wasn't like Sentinel was the best drill sergeant to bring out a bot's finer qualities, and Jazz knew the sub-compact scout was progressing well over time, he could give it another go. And Bulkhead, well… he didn't really NEED much more training, he worked fine the way he worked. And once these two saw them in action, they might actually show them a little more respect…
Well, so long as Bumblebee didn't do something stupid, but hopefully Prowl could reign him in.
"How far are we from this squishy-sphere?" Ironhide asked with a dreading tone.
"Aw, why'd ya have to ask me that? Now I have to go back to the bridge to find out, and that means listenin' to S.P moanin' again." Jazz heaved a sigh through his vents as he turned to go back to the control centre to find out how long it would be until he could escape his commander's bad mood.
When he got there however, it was not the blue and yellow Prime's aggravation he had to endure. As he sat in his usual seat, a hailing frequency alert came through and he automatically punched it up onto the main screen.
It was Longarm Prime, head of intelligence… looking both alarmed and angry, not something Jazz thought was usual for the well-spoken Prime.
"Sentinel Prime, what are you doing in the earth sector? Return to Cybertron immediately!"
"All due respect Longarm, but I'm acting on Ultra Magnus' orders. It's not like I want to be going anywhere near that planet." Sentinel drawled back, the other Primes tone not doing anything to improve his mood.
"I don't care! I explicitly ordered all contact with Earth to be filtered through me. As chief of Autobot Intel, why was I not informed of this?"
"My apologies, Longarm Prime." Ultra Magnus' voice came through as he joined the conversation, his vid-feed sliding onto the screen beside the rather irate Longarm. "But we didn't want to risk tipping these Decepticons off. I ordered Sentinel and his crew to follow them and prevent them making contact with other more dangerous Decepticons in that area. They may even lead us to capturing some of Megatrons top lieutenants."
Jazz was distracted as his console lit up, beeping madly.
"Only they ain't headed for the other 'Cons sir… tracking just got a hold on 'em again. They're sittin' tight near the Autobots base." Jazz explained, his spark sinking slightly… he could only hope they WERE sitting tight and not wreaking havoc.
"Has Optimus Prime or any of his crew made contact with you?" Longarm asked, slightly calmer, but still sounding peeved.
"No one's heard word one from those goof bots in nearly a decacycle." Sentinel drawled, but he sounded a little calmer being able to get in a jibe at Optimus' expense.
"Course it's kinda hard to get a signal through to earth with all this moisture in the atmo'." Jazz added, taking up some of Sentinels aggravation as he was forced to bite back his own retorts against his commander.
"I'm sure Optimus Prime and his bots are already on top of the situation." Ultra Magnus said assuredly. Jazz was glad that at least their high commander had the processor-chips to judge a bot by his own opinions rather than those of others.
I hope he's right though… knowing what those 'Cons did to Rodimus' team… I just hope we get there before they try anything on Optimus and his crew.
Hey Jazz, you gonna tell us how far we got left to go or are we gunna make it into a guessing game?
Ironhide drawled exasperatedly through Jazz's comm. Link.
Sorry 'Hide. Had the head honchos on the horn. Stay cool, we're only three quarters of a cycle off from arrival.
Good. I can't wait to get my hands on those slaggin''Cons and pay em' back.
Ironhide replied, sounding satisfied that the wait would not be long.
Yea, can't blame ya. Just don't argue with any of Sentinels orders when we get there, dig? Last thing I need is his bad mood gettin' any worse. Jazz replied with a sideways glance under his visor at the still surly looking Blue and yellow Prime.
"Wait… take that back a second, what did she say?"
Ratchet ran the footage back a few astroseconds before replaying the bit which seemed to interest Optimus.
"You're gonna chip your paint if you don't quit that." Ratchet grumbled at him as Optimus scratched distractedly at a crease in his side armour. With a concerted effort he stopped with a mumbled apology, trying his best to ignore the dead rust flakes still setting off the sensors under his armour.
Ratchet replayed the vid-file and Optimus turned up the volume a little.
The femme's voice came through loud and clear, discussing how they were going to get their offline captives back to their ship.
"There! She mentioned water." Optimus pointed out, and Ratchet paused the file again.
"You're right… and they were talking about getting us through it… which either means they landed somewhere across an expanse of deep water or in it." Ratchet mused, frowning as he tried to run the most likely landing sites through his CPU with this information.
Optimus put a digit to the side of his left audio and activated his long-range comm. Link.
Prowl, Bulkhead, we have a lead on the possible whereabouts of the Decepticon's ship. Their leader mentioned getting through water and it sounded like they meant a lot of it.
Bulkhead, you search the area underwater near where we first landed, it's possible they were on the same telemetry as we were when we first crashed.
Prowl, you search Dinobot island, see if Grimlock or the other Dinobots have seen anything unusual.
On it, Prime. Came back two simultaneous replies.
"I'm going to go and help Bulkhead, there's a lot of empty space in that lake, he'll be there for megacycles if he searches it alone." Optimus said, giving the monitor screens a quick sweep of his Optics in case some other small clue jumped into sight at any moment.
"I'll stay here and watch the monitors for anything and keep trying to find a way through to the Elite Guard if I can, but there's not much more I can do short of seeing if any of them are within comm. Link frequency." Ratchet answered.
"Oh, so you're happy to ignore us when we're hailing YOUR frequency, but as soon as things start to get too hot for you chumps to handle you decide you want our help after all?"
Ratchet and Prime turned, stunned, to find Sentinel Prime and Jazz strolling into the base.
"So, you bots been ignoring me all this time? Or are you just too busy cosying up to organics to pick up a comm. Link?"
"We lost Teletran one and all communication with Cybertron after our battles with-" Optimus started levelly, not willing to get on Sentinel's bad side since right now him and his team were exactly what they needed…
"I've got more important things to do than listen to your excuses Optimus. We're in hot pursuit of a team of rogue Decepticons, last tracked heading this way." Sentinel said, chest plate thrown forward imperiously.
"Where's the rest of your team? It's a bad scene out there with those 'Cons runnin' around." Jazz said, serious concern under-toning his usual coolness.
"They're out there looking for those Decepticons. We've already had an encounter with them… I'm afraid it didn't end well." Optimus explained darkly.
"We're lucky they didn't get us all, if it wasn't for Bumblebee…"
"Any time that glitch is involved you're lucky to escape without a building falling on top of you, let alone anything the Decepticons would do to you." Sentinel guffawed, cutting across Ratchet.
"Actually, Sentinel, it's because of Bumblebee that we aren't ALL in the captivity of those Decepticons." Optimus said, scowling.
"Whadya mean Optimus?" Jazz asked levelly, cutting off any retort Sentinel might have been likely to blurt out. He was looking surly again, but Jazz could sense the tension of the other Prime and the Medic and decided it wasn't a good idea to let the situation explode.
Optimus and Ratchet gave each other a meaningful look.
"You should probably see for yourself." Ratchet muttered, turning back to the monitor console, bringing up the vid-file.
Sentinel and Jazz approached the monitors, Sentinel curious despite himself and Jazz apprehensive.
"This is a recording of our encounter with the Decepticons… they confronted us in the park on the outer limits of the city. You'll… well, you'll see for yourself what they wanted."
The two Elite Guards stood, watching the footage intently, optics narrowing as the 'Cons detailed their plans.
When Optimus and his team arrived on the scene, Sentinel sneered, and was quick to make jibes and criticisms at their expense.
Jazz merely seemed to grow more sombre the longer he watched, as though he had already sensed where it was heading.
Sure enough, even Sentinel winced with his second in command as they watched Optimus suffer the same fate as Rodimus Prime had.
Jazz shook his head slightly as Prowl remained standing, still trying to fend off the 'Cons on his own, but it was (as it seemed Prowl had realised) a futile effort, and once the Decepticons ganged up, Prowl was out for the count as well.
What happened next had both Sentinel and Jazz standing with the same open mouthed, astonished expression… if the situation hadn't been so dire, Optimus might have found it funny.
Neither mech spoke as they witnessed Bumblebee's solo attack on all five Decepticons. It wasn't the fact that he attacked them alone that shocked them… it was the fact that he was actually holding his own against them.
But Jazz knew there was no way it could last… he knew Bumblebee wasn't as big a failure as Sentinel painted him, but neither was the yellow sub-compact elite-guard standard yet. Even though he knew at that very nanoklik the scout was in Decepticon servos, he found himself praying the Bumblebee on screen would somehow escape.
As it was, the moment the Decepticons began threatening his offline team-mates, Bumblebee's attack fell to pieces. He became rash and impulsive, as was his nature, and it was too easy for the 'Cons to close in.
"What in Primus' name was he thinking?" Sentinel ground out harshly, optics gazing intensely at the yellow mech as he staggered to his pedes and challenged the Decepticons from whom there was obviously no escape.
But Jazz, with a soft hiss of his intakes, realised what the scout's plan had been all along.
"He sacrificed himself, didn't he? Made them leave the rest of you…"
Jazz's question was answered by the vid-file… Bumblebee was pinned down painfully by the purple jet's energy scimitar and knocked out with a hit to the head.
The Decepticon's leader ordered them to leave the rest and just take the scout… apparently he was sufficient for their needs.
There were a few moments of disbelieving silence once the vid-file cut out.
Sentinel broke it angrily.
"You can't honestly think I'm going to believe this isn't some kind of joke Optimus. No way in PIT did Bumblebee manage to hold out that long against five Decepticons on his own. When Ultra Magnus finds out you're spending your time down here pulling pranks-"
"Sentinel! This is no joke, they have Bumblebee, and we need to find them befor-"
Prime… come in, I'm under attack, repeat, I am under att-………
All four mechs jumped at the brief message that had issued from the monitor console. Optimus hastily leant over the communications unit and pressed the hailing frequency to answer Prowl's worryingly short distress call.
"Prowl, this is Optimus, come in Prowl! Where are you? What's your status?"
Only static replied to his hails. Optimus felt his tank churn with dread.
"We gotta get out there and find those 'Cons before they pick every one of us off." Jazz said seriously.
"Well lets not sit here with our pistons in our servos! Come on!" Sentinel growled, before changing to vehicle mode and roaring out of the room.
Jazz followed suit.
"Ratchet, stay on the monitors and contact us if you pick up anything on the city wide surveillance."
Ratchet nodded to Optimus before the red and blue mech leapt after the Elite guards, changing to vehicle mode mid sprint.
Tell me you brought back-up Sentinel…
DUH Optimus, I'm not as incompetent as you. Ironhide and Brawn are already out searching for the Decepticons, as well as two new recruits we've brought from Cybertron. Now are you going to explain to me why your Ninja-bot's signal came from slagging Dinobot island of all places, or am I just gunna have to chalk it up to your usual incompetence at managing your team?
Jazz was glad he was between the two Primes… he was starting to wonder who was going to throw the first punch this cycle given his boss' obnoxious mood and the evident stress Optimus and the rest of his team were under.
With a disgruntled rumble of his engine, Optimus answered.
We were reviewing the surveillance of the attack before you arrived, we picked up a clue from something the femme-bot said-
Hey yea, she mentioned something' about haulin y'all through water huh? Jazz cut in, having taken note of much of what the Decepticons had said in the recording.
Yes, and when I realised that, I sent Bulkhead to search the bay area near where we landed. I sent Prowl to dinobot island because he's about the only one of us that could ask the dinobots if they've seen anything without them trying to tear him apart.
Looks like some-bot else is trying to tear him apart instead.
I'll contact the others and tell them to rendezvous with us on the docks. If your ninja-bot has found those 'Cons, then we'll need all the backup we can get to save his and that Bumbling scout's afts.
Sentinel drawled snidely.
Optimus' engine gave an aggressive rumble.
Stay cool Optimus. We'll get em' back. Trust me, with all the bots we got on hand, those 'Cons won't know what hit 'em. Jazz said calmly, diffusing the situation before it could escalate any further. Not that he would mind if Optimus delivered Sentinel a well earned circuit breaker of a punch, but it was more important that they work together at the moment rather than sort out their personal issues with one another.
Optimus called Bulkhead, and by the time the two Primes and lieutenant arrived on the shore of the bay, five other mechs were already waiting for them.
Bulkhead was already conversing with one of the mechs that appeared to be Sentinel's backup.
"Look alive cogs, we've got a Decepticon threat to annihilate and some space-bridge grunts to save." Sentinel barked as he transformed with a sneer.
"Optimus, this is Ironhide and Brawn, they were on Rodimus' team and volunteered to pursue the Decepticons with us. These other two are the new recruits, Jetstorm and Jetfire. I should probably mention that those cats are flying Autobots by the way. Guys, this is Optimus Prime, he heads the earth base." Jazz explained, taking on the duty of introductions.
Optimus seemed genuinely curious about the new recruits' ability, but his interest was buried beneath the tense worry that dominated his processor.
He gave the newly introduced soldiers a curt nod.
"I'm guessing you all know Bulkhead now, ya seemed to be familiar from what we could see drivin' up here…" Jazz queried.
Brawn, Jetstorm and Jetfire all nodded. Ironhide didn't need to say anything, he'd known Bulkhead before anyone else there had met him. He still hadn't been able to gauge if the mech had changed any or if he was still the same big, clumsy idiot from boot camp. What he did know for certain was Bulkhead was exceptionally distressed over his small yellow companion's capture.
"What's going on Prime? Where's Prowl?" Bulkhead asked anxiously, fearing the worst.
"We received a distress call from him about four breems ago, we think he may have come across the Decepticons again. If they're on Dinobot Island, we may be able to enlist Grimlock and the other dinobots to fight with us-"
"Are you out of your processor Optimus? Ask those hulking micro-chip brained idiots for help? They're more likely to set US on fire!"
"That for me is no problem Sentinel prime sir." The orange flying Autobot piped up cheerily before giving his blue partner a high-five.
"Mute it cogs, or you'll be cleaning the flagship from nosecone to thrusters right after we've sorted out this mess."
That threat from the tetchy Prime shut the two up and sapped their jauntiness.
Jazz shook his head, but Optimus could just see the amused smile that had crept onto his faceplate.
"It's all a matter of how you phrase your request. If Grimlock thinks it's in his best interest to attack the Decepticons, and if he feels they're insulting him personally, then he'll at least make a very useful distraction. And whatever he does the other two follow, it's really not that hard." Optimus said coolly.
"Whatever, let's just get over there." Sentinel grumbled, surlier than ever.
"I got us a ship Prime, I guessed since we were meeting on the docks that you wanted to get across the water." Bulkhead explained, walking over to a large tanker further down the pier.
"Good thinking Bulkhead. Let's get over there as fast as we can. We can do some sensor sweeps along the bay on the way, we might pick up a signal from the bottom if the Decepticon's ship is somewhere down there."
Optimus said, following the large green mech, Ironhide and Brawn falling into step behind them.
"Jetstorm, Jetfire, fly on ahead and look for Prowl. If he needs backup, do whatcha do best n' help him out, dig? Otherwise, radio us if ya find anything." Jazz said to the two flying auto bots.
"Sir, yes sir!" They replied in unison with a salute, before changing into their jet modes and zooming off with a roar of thrusters towards the island just visible across the great expanse of water.
Sentinel watched them go with what seemed to be a calculating look, before he and Jazz followed the others onto the tanker and they set off across the bay.
Jazz and Bulkhead worked on the depth sensory sweeps along the way, but the sheer mass of water was difficult for their low power detectors to get more than a weak signal, and they drew a blank.
They were about ten minutes away when Sentinel got a ping on his comm. Link.
Sentinel Prime sir, this is Jetstorm reporting.
'Go ahead' Sentinel comm.'d back, making sure to make his end of the communication audible, but not Jetstorms. Optimus stood to attention immediately, on edge and obviously anxious for news on his team-mate. He glared at Sentinel when he realised the other Prime was deliberately taunting him by only letting him hear half of the conversation. Sentinel smirked.
We have located cycle-motor Prowl. He is being offline sir, but we are not finding any Decepticon signals nearby. Cycle-motor has been damaged, but we are not knowing why the Decepticons are leaving him here.
'Never mind Jetstorm. You and Jetfire keep up the sweeps, we'll be there in a quarter of a cycle. I'm guessing, since none of this is making any sense, that this is just another of these repair bot's stunts' Sentinel drawled, smirk widening as he saw Optimus' optics narrow and his servos clench into fists.
The comm. Link was cut with a slightly confused 'yes sir'.
"Have they found Prowl?" Optimus asked, trying to keep his voice calm as he fought the urge to shove the arrogant Blue and yellow mech overboard.
"Yea. Out cold. No Decepticons in sight. Who'd a thunk it?" Sentinel clipped snidely.
"Did they say if he was badly damaged?" Jazz asked from the side of the tanker where he and Bulkhead crouched with their scanning equipment held out over the railing, blipping steadily and softly.
"Nothing spark threatening." Sentinel replied, sounding bored.
Optimus didn't say anything else the whole way there. Mostly because he was afraid he might actually lose his temper at Sentinel, and this was not the time for it.
He would have contacted Ratchet and asked that he monitor the area they were in, but out here there was no surveillance, save for satellite, and they couldn't risk piggybacking one of those signals in case the Decepticons detected it, in which case it would be made useless.
When they landed, Optimus sought Prowl's energy signature and headed towards it before Sentinel could comment or make any more orders or demands.
Sentinel seemed content to let him lead, as it meant that any encounter they may have with the Dinobots would leave Optimus their first target given he was leading.
Sentinel was even a little disappointed when they reached Prowl and hadn't come across the archaic minded metallic beasts.
Jetstorm was kneeling by the black offline form. Prowl still hadn't fixed his paint after Ratchet repaired him. He'd been emphatic that finding Bumblebee was more important and he could worry about it later.
Ratchet had argued about the probability of rust and surface damage he'd have to fix later, but Prowl had won with the argument that at least with his chassis mostly black his stealth capabilities would be improved.
Optimus and Jazz knelt on Prowl's other side, inspecting the fresh damage. Optimus doubted a fresh coat of paint would have stopped the surface damage that had been inflicted now… there were multiple dents in his armour and one large, painful looking hole burnt into one of his shoulders. Optimus would have blamed Prometheus Black for the injury that had all the tell tale marks of an acid inflicted wound, but 'Meltdown' had the perfect alibi… he was still in prison. So who WAS responsible for this? Had it actually been Decepticons?
Optimus, surprisingly, didn't have to wait long for his answer. Prowl began to stir. With a quiet noise of discomfort, he booted up and his optics slowly came online.
"Prime?… What… happen-nnngh…"
Prowl had tried to sit up and was painfully reminded of the acid hole in his right shoulder.
"Easy Prowl. We're as in the dark about that as you." Jazz replied calmly, Bracing Prowl's good shoulder as he insisted on sitting up.
Prowl flexed his servos and frowned, looking down at his left. He raised it to his optics with a puzzled look, holding a data-chip.
"What's that?" Optimus asked, non-plused.
"I… don't know… wait…" His visor brightened as his memory files refreshed, "I remember now… that Decepticon motorcycle, he was the one who attacked me… he said something about…a postcard?"
Jazz and Optimus glanced at each other with confused, slightly worried expressions, but then back at Prowl as he gasped. Prowl wasn't looking at either of them, but he seemed ready to purge his tank.
"A Postcard from our yellow friend." He re-iterated, holding the data-chip away from him like it was infected with cosmic-rust.
"Wow. Really? That's great. Well, there's no Decepticons here, so if you bots are done pulling lame stunts, I'm heading back to the mainland to keep doing some real work." Sentinel quipped from where he'd been leaning against a tree.
Optimus didn't miss the scowl that passed Jazz's features for a moment before they smoothed again. It was clear even those best at dealing with the blue and yellow prime were pushed beyond their limits by him sometimes.
"So… this is being a joke?" Jetstorm asked, sounding exceptionally confused. "I am not finding it funny."
"Me neither dawg." Jazz sighed, shaking his helm and helping Prowl to his feet.
Optimus was about to comm. Ratchet and let him know Prowl's status, but the roar of jet engines deafened them momentarily as the orange recruit came racing out of the sky.
"Incoming!" He yelled as he transformed and landed, facing the trees he had just flown over.
"Brother, I cannot be stopping all three coming on my own-" He started to try and explain to his Blue counterpart, but then a very loud crashing interrupted him, and the trees at the edge of the clearing gave almighty shrieks and groans as three metal monsters crushed and snapped the thick trunks like mere twigs.
The Dinobots came stampeding into the clearing. But before either of the Autobot Jets could begin to initiate defensive manoeuvres, the three rampaging monoliths skidded to a halt (or landed in swoop's case) in front of Prowl, who was still leaning heavily on Jazz.
"Swoop tell me Grimlock that Prowl in trouble, so me Grimlock come to help." The Tyrannosaur at the head of the trio stated.
Prowl looked up at him with some surprise for a moment, mouth slightly agape.
"Oh… thankyou, Grimlock… but I'm afraid you're a little late. The Decepticon who attacked me is long gone."
"You and the other Dinobots wouldn't happen to have seen any strange mechs or crashing ships recently would you Grimlock?" Optimus broke in hastily, hoping to make use of the usually ornery beast's suddenly helpful mood.
The Tyrannosaurus turned his angular head and ice-blue optics on Optimus, considering his question a moment to make sure it was neither threatening nor insulting, and then answered with a shake of his head, the other two following suit.
"Me Grimlock not see any strange bots except them-" he threw his head at the other Autobots whom had come with the elite guard, "… Swoop only tell me Grimlock that Prowl was alone and hurt. Me Grimlock want to know who hurt him Prowl, so me Grimlock can destroy nasty robot! Nobody hurt me Grimlock's friends!" The mech roared imperiously.
Prowl seemed almost embarrassed by the Dinobot's sudden loyalty. Not that it was unwarranted, after all, if it wasn't for Prowl the three large mechs would have been offlined megacycles ago.
"Well, you could always help us look for the Decepticons. They've already attacked us twice now." Prowl said softly, putting his repour with the dinobot leader to good use.
Grimlock turned his icy optics on him again. "OK. Me Grimlock help puny Autobots find nasty robots that hurt Prowl. But only because me Grimlock want to." The huge mech stated imperiously.
Optimus gave him a nod in acknowledgement of his help and Sentinel gave a 'tch' in the background somewhere but made no comment.
Grimlock crashed back off into the trees with the other two dinobots at his heels, but this time heading for the perimeter of the island, apparently to start searching the whole place furiously for the Decepticons.
"Come on, let's get back to base. We'll need to… review the data they left with Prowl." Optimus said awkwardly. No one else said anything. It was clear every one of them was apprehensive about the contents of the Decepticon data chip… even Sentinel, though he was not about ready to admit it.
They all headed back to the ship on foot, Sentinel griping about the organic plant life surrounding them as he crashed his way through it, Jazz giving Prowl a squeeze on his good shoulder as he looked more and more irate with the blue and yellow Prime. He never easily tolerated wonton destruction of organic habitats, but there was little he could do about confronting the larger and higher ranking bot in his current condition.
It was a silent trip back to the mainland once they were on the water. Not even Ironhide or Brawn conversed with each other. They shared apprehensive looks, and Ironhide stood by Bulkhead with a servo on the large green wrecker's shoulder. Bulkhead's expression was worse than Prowl's. He didn't dare imagine what he would see on that data-file. He couldn't bear the thought of what those filthy Decepticons were doing to his best friend. And the thought of knowing scared him more than the thought of Megatron returning to hunt them down.
Once on the mainland, it was agreed that they should get back to base as fast as possible. Prowl, being too injured to transform and drive on his own, ended up riding on Optimus' trailer flatbed.
When they reached the plant, Ratchet was waiting outside for them, Optimus having informed him of the events as they walked back to the ship on Dinobot island.
He walked over and helped Prowl back into the plant while the others transformed again and followed.
Sentinel was the only one who seemed bored, and yet he didn't say anything. It seemed even he knew the limit to which his snide remarks could be tolerated in this situation.
He supposed he could understand… even if the video of Bumblebee's solo attack was a hoax, he had no doubt the scout was indeed in Decepticon hands. And despite his low opinion of the worth of Optimus and his crew, he did acknowledge the dire fate of the sub-compact as a serious and unfortunate matter.
Once Ratchet had repaired Prowl to a satisfactory level, they all crowded around him at the monitor console in the main room.
His expression was bitter as he inserted the Decepticon data-chip into an external reader, which he then plugged into the computer. It had a surge failsafe to protect the main systems, in case the Decepticons had implanted a virus in the chip to download and corrupt their codes.
The air was palpably tense as the data-file slowly booted up and opened.
When the image on screen cleared, they found themselves looking at a metal surface.
Almost immediately, a cool, chilling voice filtered through on the audio. The servo-held camera swung around to rest on the face of the bot holding it.
"Hello Autobots. We thought you'd like to know how your companion is enjoying his little vacation on our ship… consider this a postcard… I'm sure he wishes you were here… I suppose we could ask him."
Ratchet gasped as the mech came into focus.
"Oilslick" he ground out, sounding furious.
"You know-" both Primes started, but he cut them off.
"Yea, but I'll explain later…" Ratchet growled. The camera had just fixed on a black and bright yellow mech slumped against a wall.
Bumblebee glared with all the venom he could muster at the mech holding the camera. His servos were cuffed and there was a semi-dried trail of energon that had leaked from his mouth. His armour was dented and the wound in his shoulder caused by the purple jet was still leaking a little oil and energon as well. Ratchet hissed through his vents as the camera got closer and he could see the damage up close, and despite Bumblebee's defiant expression, they could see him shaking a little from stress and fear.
"So Autobot, got anything to say to the folks back home? Make it quick, we've got a lot of fun activities planned for you…"
"Slag off Decepticreep." Bumblebee spat angrily, and to his credit, his vocaliser did not waver.
Suddenly, a cruel pede kicked out and hit Bumblebee upside the head. There were two clangs as the hit connected and then Bumblebee's head smacked against the wall behind and he slipped sideways with a grunt of pain. Those watching flinched and hissed reflexively.
A clawed servo snapped out and caught Bumblebee by the neck, dragging him up against the wall until he was lifted off the floor completely. Bumblebee had shuttered his optics in automatic response to the kick, but he powered them on again to glare at the Decepticon holding him against the hull.
There was a soft laugh somewhere beyond the camera's scope, and a new voice was heard.
Bumblebee's optics flickered to something beyond the mech holding him up.
"I don't think you realise the point of this exercise, Autobot. You probably won't return from this 'holiday' of yours. If you have something to say to your pathetic comrades, this may be your last chance… unless we feel like sending them another progress report, but you may be a little past comprehension by then…"
This statement was followed by more laughs from other unseen 'Cons.
The look in Bumblebees optics turned from defiance to sick apprehension.
"I've decided I hate holidays. Really… I have no objections to going back to fixing space-bridges…" Bumblebee muttered through the pressure on his voice synthesising components.
Ironhide groaned. The words were so typical of the Bumblebee he remembered… apparently he hadn't changed much. But he had to give the kid credit, he did have guts not to be cowering and begging like many other mechs Ironhide had seen in his time (and those had been elite guard members no less).
"Come on, you can do better than that Autobot! Tell them how much fun you're having…"
The motorcycle 'Con suddenly threw Bumblebee towards his other colleges, whirling the camera around with his toss so that it came to rest on the others in what appeared to be a brig cell.
The Jet deftly caught Bumblebee, who gave a short cry of shock from the sudden tossing around.
A moment later though, he was screaming as a clawed digit of the Jet had been stuck into the wound in his shoulder and twisted.
The Decepticons laughed cruelly as fresh energon trickled from the damaged fuel lines and Bumblebee kicked and writhed in pain trying to get away from the digit embedded in his wound.
None of the Autobots watching made a sound. They were frozen stock still by the horrifying footage.
But it was far from over.
The Jet finally removed his claw-like finger and Bumblebee stopped kicking. He was being held up by his bound wrists and hung limply now, his ventilators working overtime. He grunted with the after-pangs of pain in his shoulder.
"See? Aren't you having fun yet Autobot?" crowed a mech they recognised as the weird frog-con… except he was in robot-mode now.
Bumblebee didn't answer. He kept his optics shuttered and tried to ignore them.
When there was no response, the hulking deception moved like lightning. Striding forward, his fisted servo shot out and landed a direct hit on the yellow scouts' chassis.
Bumblebee let out another shout of pain, and onlined his optics to glare at the Decepticons again. The Jet still held him up, but when he continued to refuse to respond, he dropped him and put one of his pedes on the large dent now in the yellow chest armour.
"Now-now Autobot, why so unco-operative? Do we have to keep drawing answers out of you like this?"
He gave Bumblebee a feral, terrifying smile.
And then the seeker activated the jet turbine in his heel.
The scream that left the small mech made those watching the video reel back and make noises of shock and despair. As they watched, unable to tear their optics away, Bumblebee's plating blackened, then fluctuated through a spectrum of colours before it started to turn a dull cherry colour, then bright orange, and finally with a piercing keen from the yellow sub-compact it went white hot and began to melt and distort. That was when the Jet stopped.
Bulkhead, who had run from the room halfway through this sick form of torture, could now be heard somewhere outside purging his tanks.
Nobody could blame him… Bumblebee was his best friend, and Bulkhead had never seen anything this unthinkable done to a mech before, let alone to someone so close to him.
But no-one could bring themselves to stop the vid-file… it was almost as if there was a silent vow amongst those in the room that they had to see out Bumblebee's ordeal for the scout's sake.
Bumblebee had been writhing beneath the 'Con's pede the whole time, but once his chassis armour had had a patch melted on it, he had stilled, shaking violently and grinding his denta against the agony. The sensors under that panel had white hot metal pressed against them now, and it was all he could do to stop crying out even though the flames had relinquished. The metal slowly diminished back to a dull cherry colour, but the Jet took his pede away and leaned down, seemingly to inspect the damage.
He then blew cold air on the metal.
Bumblebee couldn't help the anguished cry that left him as the metal popped and pinged, cooling and contracting faster over the sensory circuits.
The Decepticons laughed at him as he twitched and his ventilations hitched with the pain.
"Pathetic! You think we're even HALF-way done with you Autobot? Screw toying with his friends, we'll get him to beg us yet…" The frog-con declared, walking over as the Jet straightened. He kicked Bumblebee so hard that the smaller mech was thrown across the room into the wall again. Hitting it with another sharp cry before he moaned in a crumpled heap on the floor. The kick had pulled a few tension cables and the 'burn' the Jet had given him ached terribly.
"Not… begging…" he ground out, only just audible.
The frog-con strode over to him again, picked him up and slammed his back against the hull again, pinning him up by the annealed spot on his chest, making him groan and grit his denta again.
"What did you just say scrapheap?" The 'Con hissed.
"I'm… not begging… you for… anything." Bumblebee spat loathingly.
"Is that so? So if I were to do this…" the 'Con drew what looked like a laser scalpel from his subspace and put it to one of Bumblebee's bound arms. Activating the small device, he slowly began cutting through the armour. Bumblebee began to shake a little more violently, wide optics fixed with blank horror on the device as it was applied. His natural urge was to wrench his arm out of the way… but doing that with a laser scalpel only meant increasing the damage to yourself. He had no choice but to hold stock still. When it got through the metal and hit integrating circuitry, Bumblebee gave a yelp but quickly muted his vocaliser. "…you wouldn't ask me to stop?"
The 'Cons' grin was feral. The camera got closer.
Bumblebee shuttered his optics. It was clear all his concentration was on silencing himself.
The 'Con cut a neat tab of metal before turning off the scalpel. Then he dug a claw into the gap left and grasped the tab, ripping it back.
Bumblebee couldn't mute himself. He gave a loud anguished cry. The feeling of tearing circuits was excruciating, even if the wound wasn't as big as the hole in his shoulder joint. He felt wires spark in the open air, but refused to look at the wound.
"Ask me to stop." growled the 'Con as he started on Bumblebee's other arm.
"…No" Bumblebee ground out, Optics still shuttered.
"Ask me to keep going then." the 'Con laughed maniacally.
"No."
"The longer you resist the harder this will be Autobot… you want us to take you apart piece by tiny piece in front of your friends? You gonna make them watch that because you're too proud to beg for mercy? Bigger bots than you have broken down and pleaded much sooner… they weren't stupid, they knew no one was gonna save them, so they let it get done and over with quick. But the longer you hold out, the less likely we are to just let your pathetic spark snuff out. Come on Autobot…" He pinched the new tab and tore it back, but slowly this time. They could see wires strain and snap as another patch of circuitry was revealed. Bumblebee screamed through his still gritted dermal plates.
The other Autobots were vaguely aware of Jetstorm and Jetfire muttering something incomprehensible and leaving. No one stopped them. They, like Bulkhead, were much too young to have ever seen this side of the war, and for a first time, this was particularly confronting.
"They'll…nnngh… they'll get you for this… when they find you… you'll wish you were never sparked." Bumblebee growled, voice positively venomous towards the Decepticon.
The 'Con merely laughed in his face, the others behind him following suit.
"Is that so? After we kicked their sorry afts, what makes you think they would stand a chance? How about, if you're so keen to see em again, we go get one and bring them here, and they can join in the fun?"
"NO!"
The 'Con smiled cruelly.
"Ooooh, you Autobots… you're so predictable it's almost too easy sometimes."
The frog-con suddenly dropped Bumblebee, who slumped with an 'oof' on the floor. The 'Con then drew a strip of metal scrap from his subspace. Normally this might be used for field repairs… quick patch jobs welded onto armour, but he did not intend to repair the damage he had done to the Autobot. He grasped Bumblebee's stasis cuffs and hauled him up again so his pedes couldn't touch the floor. Bumblebee attempted to kick the Decepticon while he thought the bigger mech didn't expect it. He landed a few useless blows before he was hit hard around the faceplate, stilling his movements as his processor reeled. The Decepticon chuckled darkly at his pathetic attempt at a struggle and shoved the strip of scrap metal over the middle of the stasis cuffs before welding it to the wall behind with the torch setting of his little device.
"Here, Spitter, take this… it's my turn."
The voice behind the camera piped up.
Spitter seemed a little disappointed, but apparently he was satisfied that he'd had a good turn with their captive as he obeyed the motorcycle's wishes and took the servo-held camera himself.
Oilslick came into view now as he strode languidly towards their captive, drawing a few things ponderously from sub-space as he did so.
"How about we bring in your ninja friend and torture him in front of you hmmm? I bet THAT would make you beg." he said smoothly, softly, vocals laced with sick mirth.
"Don't…" Bumblebee's optics stared at him, wide and petrified at the very thought.
Prowl shuddered despite himself. He couldn't even begin to imagine what it would be like in Bumblebee's place… and Bumblebee had put himself in that position to spare the rest of them that fate. Had he known that this was what he was in for? Would any of them have guessed just how sickeningly cruel this bunch of Decepticons would be? Would Bumblebee have done it if he'd known?
Prowl's spark ached for the yellow scout as the motorcycle twirled a glass phial between his claws… because he knew Bumblebee would have done it anyway.
"I really wanted to use this on that ninja friend of yours… but I suppose it'll be fun just letting him know that you're going to be taking his punishment for fragging me off."
Oilslick turned his face to the camera with a wicked smirk on his features.
"And you Autobots have that medic of yours to thank for what I'm about to do… if it wasn't for you Ratchet, I wouldn't have lived long enough to concoct this wonderful little corrosive."
All heads turned to the medic momentarily. He said nothing, but his expression was one of devastation. He watched with wide, horrified optics, shaking his head slightly.
'no…' he breathed… he sounded more anguished in that quiet statement than anyone had ever heard him.
Their eyes were drawn irrevocably back to the screen as the 'Con approached Bumblebee, unscrewing the lid on the phial as he went. Bumblebee stared at it apprehensively. He'd had experience with corrosives before, dealing with 'Meltdown'. None of his memories of the incidents were pleasant.
"How do you know Ratchet?" He said hurriedly, apparently trying to stall the 'Con.
He laughed, stopping in front of the scout and looking him over, as if trying to decide what part of him he could hurt most with his little formula.
"Oh, me and the medi-bot go way back… back when I had only just started fighting for the Decepticon cause. I've been in the ranks for stellar cycles, but this was when I first started actual field combat, rather than sitting in a lab making weapons for other's use."
He seemed to decide on a spot and produced a dropper in his other servo, dipping it into his viscous liquid carefully to draw some up as he continued to talk.
"Admittedly I lacked field experience, and one of my weapons backfired… I was caught without an antidote on a field full of rotting shells… and who should come along but the young, warm sparked and naïve Ratchet… he very helpfully assisted me in creating a new batch of antidote on sight. To his credit, he's an exceptionally efficient medic… but a blind fool. He helped the bot who took out most of his comrades. I thought I'd left him for dead, but he somehow swiped some of the antidote himself. That was the end of that as a weapon, but all the same, I lived to create new weapons… and now he can see the fruit of his foolish mistake aaall those vorns ago."
Bumblebee had been so absorbed in the Decepticon's explanation that he hadn't noticed the bot hovering the dropper right over his shoulder wound. But when the acid hit it, he knew it.
Oh did he ever know it.
Bumblebee shrieked as the corrosive burnt raw into his exposed circuits and one of his transformation cogs. The pain was white hot, but just below a level that might send his systems into offline stasis.
"That's slow burn acid Ratchet. Serious damage takes a while, but the corrosion of the sensory units is especially slow… just to make sure he'll keep feeling it. A masterpiece if I do say so myself. Made specially for interrogation, not that he has anything else we need to know in that processor, but it's always good to have test subjects."
"The sick fragger…Oh Primus Bumblebee, I'm sorry." Ratchet muttered, sounding agonised.
None of them had felt so helpless as they did now hearing their smallest comrade cry out through gritted denta as he endured this unthinkable torture.
And the worst part was it wasn't even over. They weren't just going to leave him with a slow burning open wound and the other dully aching injuries… no, these Decepticons were true to their faction's reputation.
"Well, we were hoping you'd beg for yourself, but the next best thing, I suppose, is blackmail." Oilslick said smoothly, raising the other implement he'd taken from his subspace. It was a rod-like device with two prongs on the end and looked almost like an oversized wrench with circuitry.
Prowl let out a soft "Not that…"
He recognised the implement. He had used something similar when he had borrowed mods from Lockdown. This one was smaller, but it seemed to be of the same type.
Oilslick jabbed the prongs just under Bumblebee's chest armour and activated it.
Bumblebee screamed loudly as extra voltage burned through his circuits like fire.
It quickly relinquished, but it left him twitching as false signals hit movement relays with after pangs of pain.
"Want me to find your friends and use my little toys on them?" Oilslick murmured into Bumblebee's faceplate with a sick, twisted grin.
"Nnngh… no…" Bumblebee ground out, vocaliser now laced with static.
The 'Con's grin grew wider.
"Then beg."
"I…don't…" Bumblebee's growling sentence was cut off as he screamed, the shock-rod rammed into his midriff plating again. Oilslick talked into his audio over his own cries.
"I'm going to find that ninja-bot and that medic of yours and I'm going to use this on both of them, and then I'll bring them back, and they can thank you for letting me do it-"
"NO PLEASE! DON'T HURT THEM,AAAAGH- PLEASE!!!"
The 'Con's triumphant grin and Bumblebee's shouted pleas made them all sick to their tanks.
The shock-rod was removed and they could hear Bumblebee's engine and ventilators stutter, static creeping from his vocaliser as he shook and twitched in his bonds.
"I'm sorry… I didn't quite catch that… so you say you want me to bring them here?"
"NO, please, don't go near them, don't touch them, I'm begging you- AAAAAAGH!"
Bumblebee's pleas were once again interrupted by the shock-rod, but he continued to beg through the agony until his vocaliser shut off and all he could produce was static.
By this point the 'Cons seemed to get bored when he couldn't scream anymore.
Oilslick ramped the power up on his device until Bumblebee shuddered violently and finally offlined, going completely silent, a thick stream of energon trailing sickly from his mouth.
Oilslick turned back to the camera with a cool, calm expression, as though nothing had just happened.
"Hope you Autobots enjoyed the show… you can probably expect another one in the future, so you can look forward to hearing from your loyal little companion again."
He smirked and the vid-file finally cut out.
The control room was deathly silent.
What could any of them say… those who had lost their comrade were finding it difficult enough to accept what had happened to him, and those there to help didn't feel they had the right to voice any opinions right now.
The first to speak was in fact Bulkhead.
He stepped slowly into the room, large frame shaking with suppressed emotion.
"Why did you do it Ratchet?… Why… How could you let that…that THING live?"
A shiver passed through Prowl to hear Bulkheads' voice laced with so much anger and despair.
But he could understand completely.
They all turned to Ratchet, their silent agreement hanging in the air like a thick, palpable cloud.
Ratchet gave Bulkhead an agonised and apologetic gaze.
"It's like he said. I was young. Naïve. I used to have such ideals about life being more sacred than faction… I hadn't thought about the implications of saving mass murderers. It would be a weak excuse to say I never did it again after Oilslick… but that would be an insult to everything Bumblebee is going through right now."
His quiet, drained sounding words seemed to sap all the anger out of Bulkhead. He sat down slowly where he was, looking completely despondent.
"We can't waste time here. We need to go and find him." Prowl growled, fresh anger and determination flaring through him as though he had absorbed what Bulkhead had lost.
Ratchet's head snapped around to him with a stern look in his optics.
"You're right, but you're not going anywhere until I've finished repairing you. I'm not having you go out there with that much circuit damage."
Prowl looked ready to argue, but with a glance at Optimus, he kept his silence and followed Ratchet obediently back to the med-bay.
"Optimus, what primitive scanning equipment have you got I this scrap-house… we're going to be needing all of it to find those Pit-fraggers." Sentinel growled authoritatively.
It was about as close to sympathetically offended as he got. He had, by now, decided that even if this had started out as a hoax, there was no way what was going on now was a joke.
And he wasn't known for backing down when he had 'Cons to chase.
Optimus motioned him to their console, and slowly but surely, they mapped out their search.
