A/N Okey dokey, chapter three is continued! (P.S. Please do not blame me for anything I roll. If you don't like the way they wind up, let me know and maybe I'll weasel something in…maybe.)

:::Area 17-6:::

"Good morning, sir!"

"At ease, Clark. It's just me."

"Yeah, yeah, Lieutenant. Anyways, did you hear?"

"About…"

"The new computer."

"Oh, that. It was part of my morning report."

"Have you SEEN it yet?"

"They only hooked it up this morning!"

"But you've seen it, right?"

"…"

"Hah! I thought so!"

"I'll only tell you this: this program will either change the course of every war we ever encounter in the future, or it will be the undoing of us all."

:::Prime:::

It was a living nightmare just to consider.

"The next bot is WHERE?"

In the military base in Wyoming. You've been there before, remember?

Prime felt as though cold water had been run across his sensitive protoform. "That base…"

So, you DO still remember it? Cool!

No. Not cool. Prime clearly recalled the last time they'd been there. Humans had gotten hold of Transforming Technology, technology far too advanced and dangerous for them to handle. The Autobots had been forced to raid the base to retrieve the technology, along the way almost losing Skids. If the organic Charlene had not been there… Optimus shuddered to think what would have happened to his friend.

In the end, the raid was successful…but the base had openly declared its intolerance for all aliens, threatening to react without questions to any and all sentient mechanical beings that approached. If any other base had issued the threat, Optimus would not be worried. However, this base had, if only for a short time, access to and information on his species. He had no doubt they had invented several ways to theoretically damage anyone who approached. He vented slowly.

"Well, Prime?"

"Hound, you will stay here."

"WHAT?"

"That is an order. I will not endanger any of you on this particular mission."

Hound's usually laid-back expression hardened into a cold glare that he pointed somewhere above the Prime's shoulder before wheeling away from him. "Fine. Try not to blow a gasket or something. Ratchet isn't here to fix you."

Prime flinched slightly, though he knew Hound was only worried. "Very well. If it will make you feel more at ease, I will keep you as a "Battle Companion"."

Hound's frame relaxed considerably. "Thanks Prime."

"And us?"

Prime glanced at the two Seekers. "I don't want Megatron to know I have both of you just yet. Skywarp may seek out the last bot if he wishes. Starscream, you may monitor our movements from Teletraan-1. Let me know if there are any problems, please."

Starscream rolled his eyes. "Of course, Prime. Wouldn't want you offline just yet, anyways."

Optimus nodded and transformed, trying not to wince at the implications of that last statement.

:::Megatron:::

"In there?"

Yep.

"You're just as sadistic as my Second-in-Command." Megatron muttered.

Former SIC, and thank you.

That wasn't a compliment. Megatron growled as he examined the base from a nearby cliff. He still didn't see anything that could pose a threat, but he knew as well as Optimus did the potential for danger.

Unfortunately, Megatron's only choices for backup were a wimpy medic, a grouchy former-Autobot, and a whiny Insecticon. He'd selected the latter as his Battle Companion, just in case. He would have chosen Ratchet but he didn't trust that medic anywhere near his internals just yet.

He vented heavily and slipped around the cliff into full view before pelting across the open field towards the North Gate…

:::Optimus:::

Entire sections of the southern wall peeled away into large, semi-advanced technology resembling Ironhide's old energy cannons. Prime tried not to curse quietly under his breath as he ducked behind a large outcropping of rock. He'd been trying to sneak in the same way he had at the science labs. How did they detect my presence? He worried.

An intense yellow beam of explosive energy ripped through the ground next to him. Prime dodged out from his cover to get away and resigned himself to a headlong dash in the direction of the South Gate. I just hope that whoever's in there is still online when I reach him!

:::Megatron:::

Luckily, Megatron spotted the guns before they could incinerate him. He scanned them for a weakness, any weakness. The technology might not be entirely Cybertronian, but it was advanced enough to land him in a repair bay for orns he did not have. Another blast forced him to zig zag across the field, each spin bringing him closer to his goal. There was a pattern developing, Megatron could almost see it…

:::Optimus:::

Optimus waited for the guns to start charging before throwing himself out of their predicted lines of fire. He smiled beneath his faceplate as he got back to his pedes in one piece. I thought so. Once they've selected a target and begin to fire they lock in place. After firing, they need to recharge briefly before they can move again.

It was during this brief amount of time that Optimus made his moves. Quickly, if jerkily, Optimus came closer and closer to the gate.

:::In the Base:::

"They're getting closer!"

"How did they get here?"

"They DROVE you idiot!"

"Sir, do you think they know about…"

The entire team fell silent, turning towards the Lieutenant. "If they do, then maybe it's time we made our own move."

"Retreat, sir?"

"Not unless we have to. Get me a line to the main compter…"

:::Megatron:::

Megatron hopped out of the cannons' way as they all fired at once, just as he'd calculated, before running forward once more. This is just too easy…!

He spotted the beam three kliks before it left the barrel and dodged just as it erupted from the wall. Searing heat overrode his outer sensors for a brief moment and he was forced to dodge the next three shots blindly. They're getting smarter… He growled mentally.

Each of the cannons seemed to have a mind of its own now, and they were using them well, setting up traps, carefully herding him in directions away from the gate. Megatron let out a short howl of fury before activating his cannon. Yes, it would take longer to reach his goal, but since Optimus didn't seem to be anywhere nearby he was more than willing to spend it on smashing every single one of those weapons into shiny powder…

:::Optimus:::

The warm red glow of heated energon pulsed through Optimus's vision as he danced through the complicated maze of death. He couldn't keep this up forever, but he was too determined to turn back just yet. Think, Optimus. Think. These guns didn't get smarter on their own. Someone is controlling them. The humans? No. It's too coordinated, too precise. Too…robotic.

Optimus felt his engines rev in horror. But… how?

White hot pain ripped through the delicate circuitry in his shoulder. Too startled to gasp, Optimus ducked into a roll that carried him out of the line of fire and into the shadow of the building. He pressed himself to the wall as the guns tried to twist towards him from above. Optimus glanced towards the gate. He started to inch towards it and froze. There was no telling what lay on the other side. The computer had predicted every move he'd made so far.

Time to do something unexpected.

:::Megatron:::

The leader of the Decepticons grinned, drinking in the smoking carcasses of the guns as though they were the wounded chassis of his enemies. With a final parting shot Megatron leveled his cannon at the North Gate and fired at the same time that the western section of the south wall exploded into pieces.

:::In the Base:::

"They're in, sir."

"…Direct attention to interior defense systems. Prepare to evacuate immediately. Bring what we can."

"Blackrock is going to be ticked."

"I'd rather live to see that, wouldn't you? Let's move."

"What about the computer?"

"…If they want it so bad, they can fight over it."

:::Optimus:::

In the distance, Prime heard the distinct thumping of rotor blades as a helicopter left for the air. He ignored the sound, hoping it meant that the humans were getting out of his way. At some level, he wasn't sure he cared if they were. All that mattered was making sure his companion was okay before Megatron got here.

A brief scan of the hall revealed several motion sensors. Optimus grimaced. The hall was just big enough to crawl through. There was no chance he could avoid them. Now what?

You could try using your Search Companions.

"Skywarp is busy searching for the other Autobot." Optimus reminded The Voice.

How about Hound then?

"How can Hound help? He's supposed to be my Battle Companion."

Technically, you are fighting this Base's main systems.

Optimus quirked one eye ridge. "Are you offering me a loophole?"

Sorry, you like playing by the rules. I forget.

"But bending them isn't entirely out of the question?"

Whatever. I'm just bored.

Optimus chuckled. "Very well. How do I get Hound here?"

Just ask for him.

"Ask for him?" Optimus sighed. Of course. It's always that simple, isn't it? "Very well. Hound, I need your help." Optimus felt a little stupid for a moment as he spoke aloud to the empty room. "…Um…Please?"

There was a flash of red. "Hey Prime." Hound grinned. "Looks like you need me after all."

:::Megatron:::

Megatron strode into the courtyard as though he owned the place, his cannon still smoking from overcharge. He left it out to cool, not wanting to burn his inner arm's circuitry, and also so he could blast any idiotic human that got in his way.

The first room he entered was a hangar-like area. Several robots, obvious mimicries of Cybertronians, were scattered about in various levels of functioning, abandoned by ther human creators. Megatron deliberately stepped on and crushed several of their chassis before approaching the far door.

A sheet of reinforced steel fell into place, blocking the way forward. Megatron slammed his fist against it, creating a small dent. Frag. As much as he wanted to beat it into a pulp, he knew that with every second the chance of Prime showing up increased. The shimmering, no doubt reflective, surface of the metal made him reluctant to fire in any case. There had to be another way…

"A-ha…Kickback! Get your aft in here!"

Be nice. The Voice teased.

"Frag off. He's my soldier." Megatron rebuffed calmly as Kickback appeared.

Unlike Prime, Megatron had already asked The Voice how to summon Battle Companions. Also unlike Prime, he really didn't care for being nice to them.

"All right, Insecticon. Bring that wall down as though there's energon on the other side."

In moments, Kickback was slamming his back struts against the wall so hard the entire room shook.

You do know how to motivate your men, Megatron.

"That's why I'M in charge." Megatron preened smugly as the wall collapsed.

:::Optimus:::

"Well, Sniffer?"

Hound stiffened. "You know I only take that nickname from one bot, Prime."

"Sorry. You seem a little unfocused and the Mirage isn't around to tease you."

Hound sighed. "Yeah. Sorry, Prime. I guess I'm just worried about everyone out there. I mean, this is only the fifth bot and you almost got yourself killed out there."

"It's only a scratch."

"This time."

Luck of the draw, fellas.

Hound bit his lip to prevent any reply.

Optimus ignored The Voice. "Back to the task at hand, Hound."

"Right. I scanned as much of the base as I can see, and it looks like the control switch is on the other side of this hallway. The main controls are being filtered through some sort of central system…" Hound streamed a small map of the base to Prime's computer. "It's over by the east wall."

"So. What happens if we trip one of these sensors?"

"Well…this hallway will try to crush you."

"…I'm glad I didn't try to crawl through it then…" Optimus mumbled.

"Right. Wait here, OP. I'll be back." Hound then proceeded to slide into the hallway. Due to his smaller size, he had a bit more maneuverability than his leader. Nonetheless, his movements were executed precisely to move through undetected, sometimes with only human inches to spare. Crouched at the beginning of the tunnel, Optimus shook his head with admiration. "Jazz would be proud."

"Not as proud as Mirage. He's the one who taught me how to do that." Hound replied, chest plate expanded slightly with pride as he flipped the switch.

Prime joined him a few moments later. "Which way now, Hound?"

Hound checked his internal readout for a moment before nodding to the left. "This way. There's a pitfall trap on the way and then a clear shot at the control room."

:::Megatron:::

Megatron followed Kickback through the base at random, keeping the Insecticon in front to check for traps and smash blocked doors. Megatron was beginning to grow impatient when Kickback's antennae twitched suddenly. "I smell energon (energon)."

Megatron ground his dentae together, annoyed at the Insecticon's tendency to describe his activities with human verbs. Then again, Ravage did the same thing, but no one really cared. Slag, HE did it, too! He'd have to get a vocalizer recheck from one of his medics, probably Hook… "This is no time to think of your energon pumps, Kickback."

"Not THAT kind of energon (energon)." Kickback rolled his optics. Mentally, Kickback disliked having human words downloaded as his automatic language as well, it was so flawed compared to Cybertronian. But, Teletraan had seen fit to reformat them that way, so that's how he'd have to put up with it. "I'm talking about energon (energon)…the processing kind (kind)."

Megatron raised one eye ridge. "You can smell Cybertronian fuels?"

Kickback rolled his optics. "I know that you processed three different types this morning (morning)."

"What kind?"

Kickback frowned for a moment. "Well, Shrapnel's better at the specifics (-ifics), but…" Kickback stepped a little closer and vented in slowly before exhaling. "Some from last week's lightning storm (storm), a little left over from that first raid we made on Earth (earth)…and I believe that last bit is leftover crystallized energon…highly intoxicating and expressly forbidden by Shockwave for being unstable (stable)." Kickback's optics glowed with amusement. "Correct (correct)?"

Megatron logged that bit of information away for later. "Very well. Take me to the Autobot, Kickback."

"How do you know (know) it's an Autobot (bot)?"

"...call it a circuit feeling."

That and I told you.

"Shut up."

:::Hound:::

Prime stood frozen in the doorway.

"Um, Prime? If you don't move then how am I supposed to…"

"It's Prowl."

Hound felt something surge through his inner programming. "Prowl?" The green scout shoved his way around Prime and into the main room. A hulking gray mass of wires decorated the center of it. There was no sign of the police car. "Um…Prime…he isn't…"

"The guns. The traps. It makes sense. It's too logical for anyone else to be behind it."

"But…where is he then?"

"He's right there. It's his battle programs. I'd recognize them anywhere." Prime pointed at the mass of wires, forcing Hound to look again, this time with his scanner. His Spark skipped a pulse as it picked up a powerful signal near the center of the wires.

"Well?"

"Um, Prime. I don't know how to say this gently…"

"…"

"His mind is here. His body isn't."

Hound heard the vent catch for a moment before Optimus spoke again. "Then…where is his body?"

"I don't know. Probably elsewhere in the base." Hound worked his way around the tight mass of wires until he reached the opening. "Here. If you reach through this gap, you should be able to pull him out…"

"Can't you do it? It looks like a tight fit for me."

Hound shrugged unhappily, a rueful smile on his faceplate. "Sorry Prime. That's not allowed." With a flash of red, he disappeared.

Frowning, Prime knelt beside the computer and slowly wormed his arm into the hole. Given what had happened so far, he hoped that just touching the piece would enable him to "teleport" it out without damaging it, but he wasn't entirely sure what to do if the body wasn't anywhere nearby. A shudder ran through his systems. Prowl's mind…the very core of his life…tampered with by humans…Optimus wanted to purge at the thought.

Shoving the thoughts away, Optimus felt his way towards that faint source of life deep inside the computer…

:::Megatron:::

"Told you so (so)!" Kickback announced smugly as he stepped through the last wall. The Insecticon vanished.

Megatron peered through the dust. His expression brightened considerably when it landed on the sole occupant of the final room.

A shiny police car was parked next to a monitor that appeared inactive. Triumph surged through Megatron's frame as he strode forward. "Prowl. The great tactician of the Autobots. Too bad Optimus Prime couldn't save you." Megatron paused, assuming Prowl's lack of response was due to whatever experiments no doubt had been performed. "No matter." He lowered his servo towards the bot's hood. "You're mine, now."

:::A moment later:::

Sheesh. You guys must really like these Mini Games. Two already!

Optimus blinked, still in the position he'd been in while reaching into the machine. He unbalanced suddenly and fell onto his side. He heard a similar crash beside him. Megatron had put all his weight onto Prowl's hood, so he'd been similarly unstable when they'd disappeared. Both mechs looked at each other for a moment before rising, neither willing to bring it up.

Megatron did however take the opportunity to rub something else in. "That shoulder looks like it took a beating, Optimus. Should I have my medic Ratchet fix it for you?"

Optimus was about to say something very un-Prime-like when The Voice intervened to save delicate audios.

Okay, you two. Don't make me put you in time-out zones.

Prime immediately bit his glossa, not at all willing to find out what that was.

Megatron decided to avoid the subject entirely. "So. How do I win this next bot?"

Well…I was going to have you wrestle it out…but I decided to do something special for Prowl's sake.

"And?"

Welcome to the realm of video games! The voice cackled.

The world flattened. Optimus felt his sense of dimension stripped from him. A green bar appeared on his right, a blue one on his left. Another bar, white this time, appeared over his head. A small arrow was attached to the far right of the bar. Around him, a dojo styled room seemed to literally spring from the ground. His databanks supplied the images from old samurai movies Sideswipe had made him watch. Across the field, a ring of purple energy split in two and moved apart to reveal Megatron with his own set of bars.

Okay, now we roll to see who's first. Ready?

A bright yellow cube, spinning so fast Optimus could barely see the numbers, popped up in front of the Prime so suddenly he almost stepped back. Megatron glared at the thing for a moment. "Now what?"

Don't you play video games?

"Cybertron to Voice! I'm running a war, remember?" Megatron shouted.

Optimus, meanwhile, was scanning his databanks for the moments he'd glimpsed the Twins playing in the Rec room. He clearly recalled Sideswipe in particular finding the games fascinating. Sometimes he'd even forget missions because he was so busy "beating some level". The appropriate action clicked into place and Prime punched the cube. After a moment the cube faltered to a stop. Six. Optimus's spark sank. He'd clearly seen a twelve flash by. Megatron copied Megatron's movements.

"Six?" Megatron growled as the spinning began once more. This time he kicked the cube. "Ten! Much better." He smirked.

"Four." Optimus sighed.

Megatron grinned. "Sure you don't want to quit, now?"

"Not likely." Optimus muttered.

"All right, now what?" Megatron asked The Voice.

"Touch that little arrow." Optimus suggested, earning a stare. "I've watched Sideswipe play a similar game to this." He shrugged.

Megatron complied and a thick screen hid him from sight. Optimus knew that he was reading whatever was on the other side and took a moment to check his own screen. Four more bars were listed. Special, Melee, Battle Companion, and Forfeit. Mentally crossing out the last one Optimus was about to check the first menu when the screen vanished.

"Hey, Prime, process fast!" Megatron shouted.

Black mist billowed up around Prime's ankles. He found to his horror that he could not move away as it covered his entire frame. Electrical energy surged through it and he let out a muffled yelp. When it settled again, Optimus watched as the right bar seemed to shrink a little. Megatron laughed. "It's called Dark Storm." Megatron smirked as his blue bar seemed to vanish by a fraction. "It seems I saw more of Rumble's video games than I thought."

Optimus's optics narrowed as he dropped his screen and opened the second menu. Across the field, he heard Megatron being reprimanded for trying to attack again. "Sorry, Megatron! Looks like you'll have to wait your turn!" Optimus couldn't help shouting. After a moment he pressed his hand to the second option, something called "Strike".

His left hand disappeared. A glowing axe locked into place. Optimus hadn't seen it for a while. On Cybertron, it had been an effective weapon, since it fed directly off of the planet's excess transwarp energy. However, Ratchet had removed it when they got to Earth because it overloaded his systems after being used for too long away from Cybertron. Optimus felt his legs move automatically, far faster than normal, and secretly felt a tad of glee as he leapt into the air and brought the ake crashing down onto Megatron's helmet. A moment later he was back in place, arms folded calmly as an eighth of Megatron's green bar dwindled away. Irritated, Megatron retaliated with his own "Strike", his old mace and chain slamming into Optimus's chest from the other side of the field.

Optimus decided to try his Special attack. A moment later Megatron cried out as flames erupted from the ground, engulfing him briefly before taking away a fourth of his hit points. Megatron's fist slammed into his screen. A moment later, Kickback appeared at his side. The Insecticon crossed the dojo in a single bound and spun, kicking Optimus so hard he heard a distinct crack echo across the field.

He slowly climbed back to his feet, wincing. His green bar was three-quarters empty now. All it would take was one good hit from Megatron and he was toast. Optimus slowly dropped the screen. He wasn't entirely sure how much damage he could cause at this point, but if he didn't try then he'd be giving up on a friend. Prowl…you'd have this game figured out already. What would you do? Prowl had once pointed out that defense could be as effective as offense, if done properly. Optimus hoped he was right. The special bar dropped down.

A pillar of light appeared above Prime's head, followed by the corny singing of angels as a fairy dropped down from above and pecked Prime on the head. Megatron laughed so hard he almost collapsed. Prime let him, punching the cube that had appeared in front of him. Five. His green bar let out a pinging sound as it refilled. He was almost fully healed, he noted with relief.

His relief was short lived. Black mist once again surged around his ankles and Optimus instinctively held his breath to prevent a cry. The mist receded.

"Two can play this game, Megatron." Prime growled, about to engulf Megatron in flames again. At the last second he switched tactics, instead checking his battle companion's ability. What he saw gave him an idea. He used a strike. Megatron retaliated with his Kickback.

"Why don't you use your own comanion? Afraid he'll hurt me?" Megatron mocked. "Or maybe that I'll hurt him?"

"You wish, Megatron. Hound isn't an attack-based companion."

"Hound? You're using him? Why not Skywarp or...who was the other bot you acquired?" Megatron asked suddenly.

"None of your business." Optimus retorted, healing himself. His spark sank as the dice rolled only a one. A moment later Kickback's legs slammed into him again.

"No matter. I'll know soon enough." Megatron growled. "You only have one hit point left, Optimus. Sure you won't surrender?"

Optimus shook his head. "I've faced worse odds. Hound!"

Suddenly there were three Optimuses. They all laughed at Megatron's baffled expression as boxes fell on top of them and began to move randomly, too fast for Megatron to follow. Hound leaned against the wall where he'd appeared, a grin on his face. "Round and Round and Round they go, Megs. Where he stops, only I know."

The boxes stopped and disappeared. The three Optimuses looked at each other and grinned. "AmI really that thin these days?" They all asked at once. "No wonder Elita doesn't hound me about my diets anymore…no pun intended, Hound."

"Of course not." Hound chuckled. "You're acting like Reflector, Prime."

Megatron took a menacing step towards Hound and stopped when he wagged a finger. "Oh no, Megs. Prime can't hurt Kickback and you can't hurt me. That's how this works."

"Not only that…" The three Primes interrupted. "If you miss the real one, the remaining two get to do one damage each and I move next turn."

Megatron looked at his bar. If that was the case, then he'd lose all of his hit point in the next round. He growled.

After a moment, Megatron dropped the menu and clicked on his cannon. He leveled the weapon at the center Prime. "Frag you, Optimus."

:::Prowl:::

Prowl felt shudders run through his systems as he tried to sit up, optics still offline. His processor felt like it had been run through a compactor, dipped in oil, and then been chewed on by Devastator. Automatic memory flashes highlighted scalpels and laser-cutters and filthy, oily pink hands covered in his grease reaching into him, pulling, cutting, tugging…Prowl's optics snapped open, dispelling the nightmare as light flooded his processor. A Decepticon leaned over him. No hostility programs leapt to Prowl's defense and a surge of fear ran through him.

The other bot rolled his optics. "Yeah, he's fine. Just jumpy."

Prowl sat up slowly, his servo on his head. He groaned at the strain.

"Easy now. You had your entire processor unhinged. It might take a while to readjust to the program."

Prowl glanced up at him. Then he looked around in confusion. His spark flipped in its casing. A smile appeared on his faceplate as he realized where he was, and why this particular Seeker was nearby.

"Hello, Starscream."

:::Megatron:::

Hook ducked, letting the metal throne fly overhead and smash into the wall behind him. Megatron almost immediately collapsed against the wall, optics ruby red with fury. Of COURSE it was the one on the left. Of COURSE it was… A few seconds later his struts gave out and he sank to the floor moaning. Hook waited a long moment before approaching. "You'll need to get to the medbay if you want me to heal you, sir." Hook pointed out.

"Do it here. You might as well."

"HERE?" Hook sounded mortally offended. "I don't have the materials here. Do you want me to fix you or do some half-fragged quick-repair like some glitched field medic?"

Megatron's glare promised a lot of pain if Hook spoke like that again. He'd forgotten how picky the Constructicon was. "FINE." He transformed painfully so Hook could carry him, all the while silently swearing Pits on Optimus Prime. I hope that this last bot makes his life miserable…

:::Optimus:::

"Why are you so intent on bringing up bad memories for me?" Optimus asked.

Luck of the draw, buddy. It's fate, get used to it.

Optimus glared at the castle before him, his oil churning unhappily in his pumps. He'd wanted to head straight back to base and check on Prowl when Skywarp commed him. He's found the last Autobot. The elation he'd felt after his victory had dwindled to almost nothing as Skywarp landed beside him. The white Seeker folded his arms and waited. "Are you in stasis or something?"

"No. I'm just thinking." Optimus tried not to add that it wasn't as hard as Skywarp made it out to be. My, this venture is making me short on the circuits. "You're…sure this is the place?"

"Unless you know any normal blue sports cars with sparks that are native to Earth." Skywarp drawled.

Optimus rolled his optics. Skywarp's sarcasm was going to take getting used to. "Very well. Get me as close as you can, then fly back up and keep tabs on Tracks. Let him know I'm coming."

"Will do…Boss." Skywarp grabbed onto Prime's arm. "I know you've never done this before, so I warn you. The first step's a real…what's the human slang? Doozy?"

Before Prime could respond Skywarp shoved him into the portal.

:::Tracks (Blue Sports Car. Who'd you THINK it was?):::

"Decepticons!"

"So much for my new paint job."

"I hope that TRUCK is a hologram…I think we've been lured into a trap!"

Pain, shock, darkness. Bumbleebee moaning nearby. What was going on?

He was reliving a nightmare. Tracks could feel the heat of his engine beginning to warp the paint on his hood as he sped along the road that never went anywhere. Tracks on tracks. Very funny, organic. Tracks growled mockingly.

The narcissistic Autobot knew every inch of this track. He'd driven along that figure eight every lunar-cycle for the past year. He'd felt the heat of the electric charge building beneath his tires, replayed the burn of the lasers that scorched his paint job. He'd felt it burn through his systems when he wasn't fast enough to outrun it. He'd listened to the cackling voice of that fragged hunter Chumley over and over again.

"You're doing smashing, my Autbot friend! Simply smashing! I'm quite impressed with your speed!"

Tracks wished he was smashing, smashing that smug grin off that pudgy organic's face. "I'll get out of here, Chumley, and when I do you'd better hope Primus has good reason for keeping you online."

"Now, now, none of that! I'm not after you am I?"

"Maybe you should be!" The Corvette Stingray snapped back, spinning around the next corner a tad too fast and almost losing his balance.

"Oh really? And what is so special about you?"

Tracks felt his energon positively boil. Was the human blind? "I'll have you know that I am one of the rarest robots on Cybertron! My beauty is known planet-wide! The mere fact that you possess me would send my fans into a howling rage that would rip your castle to shreds!"

"Rare, then, are you?"

Tracks didn't like the tone in Chumley's voice, mistaking the mischief for doubt. "I'm probably worth more as scrap than all your pitiful collection of relics combined!" He growled. In truth, he was probably worth more energon than human money, but he didn't say that.

Chumley grinned. "Dinsmoore! Escort our friend into the trophy room and have him cleaned up. Let's figure out exactly how valuable he is."

Tracks suddenly had a very bad feeling; one that didn't have anything to do with the sudden surge of electrical energy that short circuited his consciousness.

:::Optimus:::

"Hey! Boss-bot!"

Optimus winced at Jazz's favorite nickname coming from the former Decepticon. "What is it, Skywarp?"

"They're moving Tracks inside somewhere."

"Where?" Optimus jumped in at "moving Tracks".

"Inside somewhere. Not sure where. Are you sure I can't just blast them? It would make things easier."

Optimus felt something deep in his circuits flinch. "We…don't harm humans…Skywarp."

"Not even this guy? I thought you hated him."

"…what makes you…."

"Blitzwing and Astrotrain. They said they'd never seen anyone so angry after what he did to Bumblebee, Tracks, Hoist, and those other three...Inferno, Blaster and Jazz, right?"

Optimus didn't respond immediately. "Please scan the building and track them as best you can. I'm going in to wait for them."

You'd better hope I find him before I find you.

Prime shuddered as the familiar phrase replayed in his mind.

You'd better do better than that, Chumley! You hear me, Chumley?

Unless you can do…better than that…You're finished, Chumley!

Not today, Chumley…

You're one major pain in the diode.

"Prime! We can't hold out much longer!"

The pain in Bumblebee's voice when it drew him out of stasis still haunted Prime. He could recall what started out as serious banter with a human he considered dangerous become something he'd feel for a Decepticon. He'd never hated anything before, but Chumley came awful close to breaking that habit. Torture isn't sport.

We'll see who's caught!

If that was your best shot, Chumley, you're in DEEP trouble.

The world had spun. He'd felt the rage snap. His fists had been a blurr as he charged into the last room, only to find Blitzwing and Astrotrain attempting to smash Chumley to bits.

Chumley didn't know it, but the Decepticons had probably saved his life. Optimus had cooled instantly and slipped into the final room to free his companions. Then he'd been forced to decide if he should go back. He still didn't know what he would have chosen. Bumblebee had been the first to charge when he heard Astrotrain's voice. Once again, Chumley was spared, this time by a spark so pure it even forgave its tormentors. Optimus would never forget that. He'd ended up leaving the punishment in Bumblebee's servos, not quite trusting his own judgment for the first time in vorns.

He'd just have to get in, grab Tracks, and get out. And hope that Primus keeps that fleshling out of my way.

"Bossbot! They stopped. I think I've got him!"

"Tell me when the fleshbags are out of the way." Optimus replied, his vocals a tad hollower than usual as he settled to wait.

"…wow, did you just call an organic a fleshbag?" Skywarp cackled, but didn't comment further.

:::Tracks:::

"What…what are you doing to me?" Tracks cried out when he onlined. Three of the walls had mirrors and Tracks was watching them with horror as Dinsmoore slowly coated him with the black spray.

"I've secured a buyer that claims you are as valuable as you say. He wants you for his car collection, but only if you come in black."

"You're RUINING my paint job!" Tracks wailed, his engine revving slightly as the cold paint began to cover his beloved flame design. Only the thick bars pinning his tires to the floor prevented the Stingray from tearing out of that room and taking Chumley out with him.

"Oh, pish posh! Black looks far better than that droll blue color anyhow!"

"Droll? Did you just call me droll?" Tracks growled. Dinsmoore stepped back for a moment as the bot radiated hostility. Then the car slumped slightly, wishing desperately that his transformation cog was working. "You'd better hope that when I get out of this, which I will, that I don't just sic Optimus Prime on you."

Dead static filtered over the communications system. Tracks felt a little surge of triumph. He'd found a nerve, had he? Well, then. "I wouldn't be surprised if he was on his way here to rescue me right now." Tracks scoffed. "So go ahead and do your worst….what the SLAG is THAT SHADE?!"

"It's pink, sir." Dinsmoore clarified as he pointed it at his hood.

"And WHY is it pointed at MY hood?"

"It's for the new flame, sir." The gaunt butler replied simply, switching the spray on and reaching for a set of earplugs as the Autobot let out a high pitched shriek.

:::Optimus:::

What are they doing to him? Optimus worried as Tracks' wails sounded out over the fields. "Anything yet, Skywarp?"

"Well, the fat guy's in the control room place, but that half-dead organic's stil hanging out with Tracks." Skywarp trailed off. "Can I go home now? I'm tired of flying in one place. And I'm bored."

"Just a little longer, Skywarp, I promise. I'm going in. Keep an eye on Chumley." He added, his vocalizer dropping an octave.

"…Sure thing, OP."

Wincing again, Optimus strode across the field and into the nightmare he'd thought he'd never see again.

:::Chumley:::

"Drat. That robotic horror was right! Optimus has come for him!" Chumley muttered, angling the camera to track the Autobot's movements. He felt a surge of fear and excitement run through him. On the one hand, he had no desire to confront Optimus again. On the other, he'd make an excellent trophy yet. On the other hand (yes, he has imaginary extra hands) Chumley didn't want him to steal his latest prize away from him when he'd won him fair and square. He reached for the red button, near the top of the control panel. "Sorry old sport, but I'm not in the mood for hunting today!"

:::Optimus:::

"There's another one on your right, Prime!"

Optimus leveled his blaster at the corner and fired just as a large robotic tiger tore around the edge. Unlike last time, Chumley had replaced his mocked replica of Cybertron with a smash-dash imitation of a jungle…complete with dangerous animal robots.

"BAT! Behind you, Prime!"

Optimus swung around, his fist connecting hard with the screeching robot's midsection. Acid covered fangs sprayed him briefly before it flapped awkwardly away. Optimus reeled backwards for a moment, the acid stinging his open optics. He neautralized the acid quickly with coolant, but the damage was done.

"Skywarp, we have a problem. My visual sensors are offline."

"Does radar still work?"

"Yes, but scanning often enough to give me a clear visual takes too much time. Chumley knows I'm here, and I fear he may do something drastic if we don't hurry. You'll…have to be my optics."

"Great." Skywarp muttered. This was the perfect opportunity to play pranks on his new leader and the worst timing in the universe. "Sigh…Okay, Boss. Start walking forward. You should have a clear…bird on your left. Okay, clear shot to the…"

:::A Short Time Later:::

"Sorry, Prime. I didn't spot him until it was on top of you."

"It's fine, Skywarp. My arm will heal quickly. The nanites are working on it now."

"How are the optics?"

"Still fuzzy. I've rerouted everything to get my blaster arm ready again. You are doing fine, anyways."

"Well…thanks!" Skywarp seemed a little unsure about how to take the compliment. "Okay, looks like you lost the scaly guy. Two rooms ahead and on your left…no, right."

"?" Prime commed.

"Sorry. I turned around for a moment and lost track."

Prime shook his head.

"Okay, stop there. Turn l-right. Open the door."

Optimus felt along the wall until he felt the doorknob near the floor. "It's a human door, Skywarp."

"Oh. Well, I guess you'll have to open it the old-fashioned way."

Optimus nodded and pulled back. The wall crumbled into nothing with a few hits. Normally, the idea of such extensive and unwarranted property damage would upset him, but given the organic footing the bill Optimus felt fully justified.

"Okay, Skywarp. Where is he?"

"Slag, they're moving him again. Looks like he's unconscious, too. The skinny guy's behind the wheel."

"Where are they headed?"

"Near as I can tell, the hangar on the left side."

"…How quickly can I get there?"

"If you take the halls, not nearly fast enough. But with a few shortcuts…"

"Get me there."

"You'll have to break stuff."

"Looking forward to it."

"…I like you, Prime."

"…That's good to know."

:::Dinsmoore:::

Dinsmoore slammed on the brakes as Optimus stepped out of hiding. The giant Autobot placed both hands on his hips as he straddled the driveway leading onto the ship that was preparing to leave. Shaky hands pressed a button on Dinsmoore's walkie-talkie.

"Um…sir? I'm afraid we may have asmall problem."

"Yes, yes, yes! Optimus Prime. He's walked right into my trap! Lead him into the room you just left and I'll unleash all of the system defenses on him!"

"Won't…I be in the way, sir?"

"Posh! It's better to have Prime offline, don't you think?"

"…If you say so sir." Dinsmoore opened the door and calmly clambered out, unhooking the small device from his waist.

"Dinsmoore? Dinsmoore! What are you doing?"

"Resigning, sir. I think it's time that I retired." The butler replied drearily. He glanced up at the blue and red transformer. "I don't suppose you'd be willing to bring me along? He has traps all over the place and I don't think my old limbs can carry me that far."

Optimus's optics stopped dilating from shock. He nodded. "You're…welcome to join us. Thank you…"

"Dinsmoore. Charlie M. Dinsmoore."

Optimus smiled behind his mask and knelt, extending his hand towards the old man and letting him sit in it. "Very well. You may accompany us to the Ark until we find another place for you."

"I'd hurry and make your escape, sir. Chumley will no doubt unleash his monstrosities into this room any moment now."

Optimus nodded kneeling down by Tracks and getting a good look at him. He chuckled. "He's not going to be happy about this when he wakes up, is he?"

"I find any other possibilities doubtful, sir."

Optimus pressed his hand to the hood. A camera to his right caught his attention and, for the first time in years, Optimus let his mask peel backwards so he could shoot Chumley his best triumphant grin as the trio vanished into thin air and the door collapsed with a thud.

::: Yep :::

A/N I have no idea what Dinsmoore's real name is. I made it up and it sounded good. I'm considering keeping him around just for fun…though Starscream will probably kill him at some point if I do. (Kukuku…)

Also, I think I did a little better this time. I wanted to make Prowl a real fight, since Starscream came in too early to mess with. It's fate. Yes, "The Voice" is invading my notes. (Get out of here, you!)

By the way, does anyone think I overdid Tracks a little? I've never written for him before, so…eh…

So. Comments, suggestions, and reviews. Up next…well, luck has it.

I'm thinking about writing some side stories once I'm a little farther along. Then I won't have to squeeze so much into each chapter. What do you think?