Author's note: Reviews and comments are awesome, updates are slow since I've discovered a pressing need to rewrite the two chapters which follow this. Fortunately this shouldn't require me to edit the previous chapters to match.

Or I hope it won't.

Chapter Four: Location, Location, Dislocation

Some days it was good to work away from home.

Above the planet, Movor basked in the unfiltered sunlight and the smug feeling of watching other people do a lousy job. Yes sir, no Predacons, no bad-tempered commanders and no stinking DIY jobs up here. It's allll about location.

"I've found another site you might want to hit," he informed Rollbar. "Have fun being short-handed when the Autobots show up. They're going to be on the alert in no time once you start."

"Hey, we've still got Scourge with us," said Rollbar. He sounded mild, but Movor could tell he wasn't totally unconcerned.

The shuttle made a sceptical noise. "Better you than me, pal."

"You've got a problem with our commander?"

"Problem? Me? 'Course not!"

"Then can it, would you?" For once, Rollbar sounded like there was something bothering him.

"All I'm saying is, he's been in a mood all week. It's not like he hasn't blown it for us before…"

"Movor," Scourge snapped over the link, sending the shuttle into a mental frenzy of trying to work out how much he'd heard, "have you found anything or not?"

"Uh, yes sir! Just another manufacturing plant." He transmitted the co-ordinates. "Need me to keep looking, or should I go back to guard duty?"

"Not yet. Get your thrusters on the ground and join us." Scourge's voice took a turn for the poisonous. "We need all the hands we can spare."

Of all the glitching orders- "Yes, sir. I'm coming in now."

Scourge's image nodded slightly and disappeared. "Nice of you to help out," Rollbar said, grinning.

"Slag you. I'm gonna wind up carrying everything." Sulking, he altered his course to start descending to the surface. The sun was starting to disappear round the horizon anyway. "Can we get Scourge a punch-bag while we're at it?"

"Why? He isn't tired of you yet."

The sun was warm above him, and around him the air had the calm of a fairly sheltered valley. There were a few rivers around here, and the grooves left by rainfall runoff were obvious to him. He could hear the occasional stream and amused himself by picking out its course without getting close enough to see the actual water.

Ro-tor didn't mind guard duty. It was way better than most of the jobs he could have been stuck with, and with everyone else busy, there wasn't much point in free time. This way, at least he was outside and being useful while doing nothing much on his own.

All he really had to do was check the roads and the other routes from which people might stumble on the base, without drawing attention to himself. That was easy. Even if anyone happened to look up and happened to pick his shape out from the rest of the scenery, his alt-mode didn't stand out as much as a tank or a shuttle. He had given into temptation for ten minutes and run through a few aerobatic moves, just to keep in practice, but it wasn't like there was anyone around to see him. And it might even him look less suspicious.

He didn't show off as much as some bots, anyway. He didn't draw attention he didn't want.

Ro-tor swung around the curve of a hill, scanning up and down the road below. All clear, it looked like.

Or maybe not, he thought, sensors focusing on the gleaming red fire truck cruising in the distance. Hmm.

He checked his course and headed in to investigate. Now how many fire trucks would anyone need out here? And what were the odds of one having that outline? The Decepticons had plenty of chances to notice the differences between the fire trucks that turned up in, say, Athens and Metro City.

Hardly any of them looked that much like Optimus Prime. Ro-tor knew outlines.

He dropped lower, hugging the contours around him as he tailed his newfound target. It could just be a coincidence that Prime had turned up in their area.

It could be, if coincidences ever happened around there.

Delivery time was announced by Movor bursting through the door with an armful of boxes and calling "All right, who wanted the microchips?"

He had poor sense to stop in the doorway as he did so. Scourge was sore, tired and irritable, and certainly not waiting for his underling to stand aside. He shoved past Movor from behind, knocking the smaller bot to one side. The shuttle-bot was smart enough not to respond to that. He kept talking. "Come on, I've got half your fragging shopping list on me here. Copper sheeting? Circuit boards? What's in-five-inch floppy- what? What've we got these fdisks for?"

"Oh hey, those are mine!" Gasskunk dropped the motherboard he was holding for Slapper and scurried over, giving Scourge a wide circuit.

Before Movor could ask the obvious, there was a ripping sound followed by munching. "You actually eat those?" Scourge heard the shuttle ask disbelievingly.

"I was hungry."

Scourge ignored them before the temptation to slaughter a Predacon became too strong. He trudged towards the other end of the room and sat on the one chair they had. His armour felt battered from the day's work, dents marring the lines of one shoulder, traces of grey-black out of place on his paint – and yet, he hadn't had the chance to earn the damage. That fool Rapid Run took him by surprise, and Scourge could only give a hasty barrage in return before they retreated.

He understood the necessity – loathed but understood it – but so close after their day-long stint as Autobots, he could imagine something was trying to punish him-

Mega-Octane loomed by his side. "Were there many Autobots?" he asked. Scourge's gaze turned from scouring the floor to his second's face.

"Just the trains." He scowled. "We couldn't stay around to fight."

Mega-Octane nodded, looking at his shoulder. "I can repair you now."

"No," Scourge said curtly. "Carry on with your other work."

Mega-Octane frowned. "You should have it-"

His attitude was far too close to that he used on the lesser Commandos, and in the presence of an audience. Scourge's temper erupted: he surged to his feet and turned on the bigger Decepticon, optics flashing. "Do you think I don't know what's good for me?" he demanded.

Mega-Octane drew back immediately. "No, sir!"

"Then don't forget it." Scourge looked around the room. Movor just met his gaze, straightening up and tilting his head as if waiting for orders - the closest to an innocent look the Decepticons had. Gaskunk and Slapper hurriedly pretended they weren't watching; from the way Armorhide was looking at them, it was far too late.

"I don't think we'll get any more setbacks from them," Mega-Octane said, following Scourge's gaze. Apart from the incident between Sky-byte and Mega-Octane, there'd been hardly any argument between Predacon and Decepticon. Considering the amount of time they were spending together, doing irritating, boring work, it was no small miracle. "Megatron was down here while you were gone."

"Tell me something new." He didn't turn back to Mega-Octane. Megatron barely stayed in his chambers now. He was more than making good on his promise to personally ensure his troops' good behaviour.

The shock of finding their lord and master striding through their midst did much to keep even the Predacons quiet. Scourge might admit to himself that Megatron's presence gave him an impetus to control his own temper. He did notice that his lord's constant presence had begun to grate on him quietly. He couldn't explain it; he simply stowed the observation to one side. It was at the bottom of his list of problems.

Then it fell off. "Ro-tor reporting in. I've just spotted Optimus Prime."

"What?" Scourge tensed, focusing on the communications link. He could see the bigger Decepticon look up sharply: Mega-Octane could hear the report, too. "Where is he?"

Ro-tor relayed the co-ordinates and Prime's heading. "He isn't coming our way, but I'm tailing him."

"It's not worth attacking him yet," Mega-Octane murmured. "We're better off lying low for now."

"I know that," Scourge hissed distractedly. I'll kill him yet. "Do you take me for an idiot? Good, Ro-tor. Report as soon as you learn anything."

"Yes sir," Ro-tor confirmed. Scourge cut the link and turned towards the door, optics narrowed as he thought. This changed everything. Prime being in the area took priority over everything, without question.

"Uh, Scourge?" asked Mega-Octane. "Where are you going?"

Scourge halted and looked over his shoulder at the confused bot. What, are you afraid I'll do something… hasty? "To find out what Prime thinks he's doing in our territory."

"It's good work," Optimus said, looking up at the containment unit they'd erected beside the normal generator. "But somehow I don't think you called me here just to admire your installation skills."

"Actually, we really do have a few things to explain to you." Hotshot gave the door a casual glance. It wasn't openly guarded, though the other Spychangers were scattered around the compound and Crosswise was busy checking the energy readings nearby. "But yeah, we're hoping you'll draw some attention our way."

"So you want the Predacons to find this." Optimus looked back down at him, optics bright, waiting to hear the trick.

Hotshot nodded. "I know it scans pretty impressive, but we weren't going to risk a real power source like this. This one's nothing more than a clever fake."

"As long as they don't know that." The Autobot leader glanced back at the machinery and gave an approving nod. "But if they do try to steal it, you'll have another shot at tracking them to their base."

"Exactly. We've got it all set up."

Crosswise came over and gave the side of the casing a pat. "Not to give away all the spoilers, but I'll give you a hint: this baby's energy readings aren't just for reeling in 'Cons."

Optimus considered the Spychanger. "I see. It's a beacon."

"Disguised, but yes." Hotshot motioned towards the door. Optimus followed him out. "And we've got a few more tricks up our sleeve as well: we just need them to attack."

"It's a gamble. But it's very convincing."

"You know us Spychangers. We don't spare anything when it comes to presentation." Hotshot gave his friend a sidelong look. "I wanted to show you what we were doing. I thought you should see it for yourself."

Optimus glanced at him, then inclined his head gratefully. They'd worked together for a long time, most of it as fellow officers. They both knew how it helped to actually see progress being made. "Thanks," he said quietly. "I'm only sorry I can't do more to help."

"Well, I wouldn't count you off the hook yet. Are you going to visit the other site now?"

"Mmhm. I don't have long, but I'll stop for a look." Optimus looked around the compound and sighed. "You know, I just want to feel that we're doing something that's going to help."

"You still feel guilty about the doctor." Hotshot looked up at him. "I know, Optimus. This isn't the first time for either of us. But mark my words, we'll get him back safely."

"It's not just his physical health I'm concerned about." He turned away, bowing his head as his tone turned grim. "He's already been in Megatron's hands for months now. We both know what Predacon hospitality is like. I wish I could be optimistic, but the chances of him coming through that unmarked... Sooner or later, we'll get him back. I just hope we're not too late."

"I've studied his records," said Hotshot carefully, "and his notes. From what I've learned, he's a strong person. And people are resilient. Don't give up on Dr. Onishi just yet."

"No. I haven't given up hope. But we need this plan to work." There was an intense light in Optimus's yellow optics as he met Hotshot's gaze. "I made Koji a promise. And unless we succeed this time, I might have to break it."

According to the maps and Movor, there wasn't anything nearby that would be worth a visit from Prime himself. It could mean that they'd been found out, which was unlikely. Besides, Scourge was sure that if the Autobots had found them, the first they'd know about it was when the warp gate opened beside the Megastar.

More likely, it meant he knew something they didn't.

Waiting on a report from Ro-tor, Scourge was going to check on Armorhide's progress. He intended to make sure his team didn't embarrass him in front of Megatron like that again. Not while they wanted to live.

He strode through the darkness of the Megastar, the ever-present hum now broken up by the occasional rattle of components, the whine of a saw, loud discussions about which part was most important to do next. It was busier than normal, but he could take a turn, move up a level, and the new sounds were lost behind walls and struts.

The noise was mildly satisfying, to the part of him which was furious about their delays. But it was also irritating, and he wanted to be alone. He needed to move, and think.

He had been irritable to start with – in a bad mood from their failure (his failure) in infiltrating the Autobots, and from the fact that his underling was finding favour over him from Megatron. And the suggestion, however muffled, that he, Scourge, was an unstable liability…

His fists clenched. The colossal stupidity of the Predacons in creating this crisis angered him, and the interruption to the Decepticons' plans. He was annoyed by the lack of real fighting, by Sky-byte's interference and the way the fumes from the leaking smelter were making his tyres itch. And Mega-Octane setting a new plan in motion without even consulting him…

Scourge was not amused.

Mega-Octane had failed him, and Megatron had reacted even worse than Scourge might have feared – worse, because it was unexpected. It was unthinkable for him not to simply trust the Decepticons' word. Megatron was in a strange mood, and that bothered Scourge. And then the Predacon commander had focused on Mega-Octane and left Scourge powerless to compensate for his troops' failure.

It made him look like a fool.

It made Scourge wonder. That kind of carelessness was uncharacteristic of his subcommander, unless…

…Unless making Scourge look more incompetent than Sky-byte really was his intention. Unless he wanted to discredit his commander – and the only rationale for that would be so that Mega-Octane could take his place.

Scourge slowed his pace, brooding on that. Taking his lieutenant for granted was becoming second nature to him. It was easy to forget that Mega-Octane hadn't always accepted his position. Easy to forget that he could have his own agenda in mind, while Scourge was busy thinking of the Autobots and Megatron.

Yes, it would make sense. That so-called failure to ally with Sky-byte, the other Decepticons' discontent, and even before that, Mega-Octane's presenting his own plans to Megatron… He would have to be a good actor, but then, of course, he was.

Scourge had no tolerance for rivals within his own faction. There was Megatron, who was superior, and there was Optimus Prime, and as much as Scourge loathed the Autobot's existence, he was a worthy opponent, to be destroyed in time. He could accept an enemy. The only other non-Decepticon Scourge might spare a thought for was Sky-byte: no more than a nuisance, no matter how determined to win Megatron's favour…

Which left Mega-Octane. Scourge didn't count him as a true threat, not the way Prime was. He had seized power from the other Decepticon before and could do so again.

But, he thought, optics narrowed, perhaps he needs a reminder…

"Scourge!" Ro-tor's voice over the comlink drew his attention. Scourge stopped dead in his tracks.

"What have you found?"

"I followed Prime to a human power plant. There's Spychangers all over the place, and some human security." The copter-bot's sneer was audible. "He stayed there a while, then he stopped in at a warehouse not too far from there. I'm there now."

Scourge frowned as Ro-tor passed on the co-ordinates. "Where is Prime?"

"He just came out and hit the space bridge. But what's really interesting is the power readings I got at the plant. I couldn't get too close, but whatever they've got there, it's not the humans' regular fuel."

Finally, Scourge thought. Here was an interruption worthy of his time.

Hour after hour, section by section, one deck at a time, one minor crisis after another. Incoming supplies, desperate flipping through plans of the ship, fires hastily smothered, pests kicked out of doors, the endless grinding tension of performing a task that mattered so much and to which he knew he was so unsuited… and finally Mega-Octane found himself staring at the last standing post of this hated assignment.

If there was a symbol of all that made the Megastar a pain in the aft to work on, this leaking thing was it.

The idea was simple enough – it was the ship's primary fuel distribution module, responsible for directing power and energon as needed throughout the vessel at any given moment. It was surprisingly small, not just because it was highly sophisticated but because it linked to a series of less-sophisticated versions throughout the ship, plus the core computer. He could hold it in one hand. It was a lot like its counterpart in a living Cybertronian, if on a higher order of complexity. But different enough to confuse a would-be technician.

He couldn't shake the sense that there was a logic behind all these quirks. He couldn't figure out what that logic was, either, and that was annoying him almost as much as the work.

Mega-Octane turned the module to get at another side. Like the base itself, it wasn't so much broken as showing its wear, dozens of odd circuits or components degraded in odd and hard-to-reach places, the problems piling up to make the thing unusable.

They were so near to the end. Components raids had been dispensed with. Movor was on lookout duty alone. The Predacons had finally been banned from this last, crucial zone of repairs, and a trio of heavily armed and newly idle soldiers did wonders to enforce that. For that, and having them to hand when he needed, Mega-Octane allowed the rest of his lower-ranking team-mates to stay. They were no distraction to least, until he heard one abandon the pack and come his way.

He looked up as Armorhide came to stand on the other side of the workbench. Mega-Octane eyed his clean armour jealously. He must have just gotten cleaned off.

He dropped his attention back to his work as the tank-bot reported. "The rest of the repairs are finished. All we need now is that module for the engines to be operational."

Mega-Octane acknowledged that with a grunt. He had little attention to spare for anything that wasn't broken. Especially now, knowing they were so close to the end of this wretched swamp-trek of a task…

There was a pause, and Armorhide asked, "What's Scourge doing?"

…Scourge? Mega-Octane stopped his work and looked up at Armorhide, visor flickering. This questioning was new behaviour. He didn't have time to spend working out what to make of it. "I have no idea. Why are you asking me?"

The tank-bot tilted his head, looking more questioning than anyone knew he could. "You're his lieutenant."

"And I'm busy," Mega-Octane snapped and dropped his gaze again, trying to remember where he'd been a second ago. It had been a little over a day since he'd last seen Scourge storming off to investigate rumours of Prime. Nothing had been said since, so whatever the tanker had found to occupy him clearly wasn't urgent. "I'm seeing to it this job gets done right, before the situation gets any worse."

Apparently that was enough, as it should be. No more questions came: the tank-bot merely gave a grunt of agreement and went back to rejoin the others. Their quiet mutters resumed, part of the conversation intruding into the subcommander's broken concentration as he got back to work.

"…A hothead all right, but he knows what he's doing." Armorhide, solidly sure of his opinion.

"Sure, you'd figure that." Movor, actually keeping his voice down. "Me, I'm behind Mega-Octane on this one."

"You would be, wouldn't you?" Rollbar, amused as always…

Mega-Octane turned his visor on and off at the wall across from him, utterly bewildered for a nanoclick. Then he shrugged it off and bent over the worktable. There was too much to do, and no time to start caring about gossip. He wasn't even certain he had the right tools for this part, and he swore he'd outdo Scourge's fury if he screwed this up now. He'd made it too far. Where was the...

Wait.

What in the name of rusted slag is Movor doing groundside?

Megatron waited while Sky-byte prepared their prisoner for the newest interrogation session. Over the past few days the repairs to the base had inched along, with himself trapped into supervising his undependable troops and all other plans on hold. He'd taken to probing Doctor Onishi's mind when he could find nothing else to do. The sessions were always short, by his standards. Short, but intense enough to make Sky-byte mewl about the damage to the human.

Megatron knew he'd passed the line between interrogating and venting. He also knew none of his underlings would so much as whisper of stopping him.

Bored, he watched as Sky-byte set the human on a counter. Even if he could move, he couldn't get down safely. Ironic, Megatron thought, that despite the probing the doctor's physical condition was actually starting to improve, thanks to the regular care.

"Megatron," Sky-byte said, turning to his leader, "forgive me, but I can't help wondering… should we waste our time feeding him? Won't it be easier to probe him while he's weakened?"

Megatron laughed. For once, the question didn't annoy him. "Fool," he said. "Don't question me. You have no idea how the psycho-probe works." Sky-byte bowed hurriedly as he continued, "It won't make any difference against the power of our equipment: weak or strong, his puny organic mind can't resist the scanner."

"Lord Megatron," said Scourge, entering the room and approaching Megatron. He stood to attention between the two Predacons.

"Ah, Scourge." Megatron looked down at him, thoughts of interrogation cast aside for the moment. "I hope you've brought me good news…"

Scourge inclined his head, and he was smirking. Megatron's interest spiked. If Scourge was keen to tell him this, it must be very good indeed.

"The main repairs are almost complete. The only component we need now is the ship's fuel distribution module. It's not too different from one of our own systems: Mega-Octane claims he can finish working on it within a day. Once it's installed, we only have to activate it and our command centre should be fully operational again."

Megatron's optics glowed with the first real pleasure he'd felt in days. He was absently aware of Sky-byte, still fiddling with the slumped form of Doctor Onishi, but mere entertainment was forgotten now. "Excellent work. Finally, one of you comes through for me."

Scourge's optics flickered for an instant, and he gave a soft 'hn' of assent. "Perhaps now we should turn our attention to gathering energy for our takeoff. We've located a power plant within our range, and it seems the Autobots are keeping a new energy source there." Behind the Decepticon, even Sky-byte had stopped to listen. "Movor has confirmed that all six Spychangers are guarding it, and Optimus Prime has been checking up on them."

Megatron shifted with hungry interest. "Yes, it must be important to them. How much energy is stored there?"

Scourge lifted his chin slightly. "If we capture it, it will be more than enough to power our departure immediately."

"Excellent!" Yes, this was just what he had been waiting for – the very thing he needed to bring this cursed standstill to an end. His wings half-spread behind him as he thought of that – to finally be on the move again, no longer skulking like a wounded turbo-fox… His circuits surged in anticipation.

He turned on the Predacon to his left. "Sky-byte! You will take the other Predacons and attack this power plant!" From the corner of his vision he saw Scourge tense, optics flashing.

Sky-byte started hard enough to drop Onishi. The human was ignored as he spun to face Megatron. "Me?"

"Of course. I need the Decepticons here to guard the base and complete repairs so that when you return we can leave immediately." Megatron leaned forward, looming over the lesser Predacon. "Unless the thought of a few Spychangers frightens you…"

"No, of course not!" Sky-byte stood straight and bowed, remembering his pride, or at least his spine. "Thank you, Megatron! I promise you, the Autobots won't be able to stand in our way!" He hurried out, presumably to find the other Predacons.

"The Autobots will be expecting us to attack," Scourge said, when he'd gone. The black Decepticon's optics were narrowed unhappily, his stance tense and uneasy. But he's not questioning me, Megatron thought, feeling satisfied by the knowledge and his subordinate both. "He can't possibly succeed."

"Of course not." He didn't restrain his smirk. "Sky-byte and his incompetents will test the Autobots' defences for us. And when they fall, you will be waiting…"

When at last his captors moved away, busy talking, it occurred to him to lift his head and watch them go. He was strong enough to move. Aware enough to realise he'd been forgotten.

Doctor Onishi scrambled on hands and knees to the edge of the counter. He focused on the metal side dropping away in front of him, and the floor at the bottom. He didn't want to jump. But he knew he'd fallen farther than that before and lived.

He swung his legs over the side. Then he held onto the edge of the surface and lowered himself down as far as he could. Lucky that he'd been fed recently, that he was able to do this. He went as far as he could, and then let go.

He couldn't land properly. His legs buckled the instant his weight came down on top of them and he fell. Shocks of pain ran through his joints and bones at the impact. Maybe it was a good thing he felt so numbed, he thought.

He lay there for a few minutes. Then he pushed himself unsteadily to his feet and set off through the open door. There was no equipment he could use, he knew from having glimpsed the room earlier. Maybe the computers – if they weren't totally alien and probably booby-trapped.

He just needed to get away before they noticed he was free.

He stumbled though the doorway, and out into the ship.