Warning: mentioning of torture
Note: I didn't bother researching Navy ranks and names, just went on with what I thought sunded good. Sorry for that.
9. Watching
Prime
"Sir, I accept full responsibility for my actions. I will accept any disciplinary action that you see fit to impose on me. But I ask you to first mount a rescue of Thundercracker. Starscream wants him deactivated and he won't stall it long, not even if he decides to torture TC before."
Optimus Prime looked at Bumblebee, standing at attention before his desk, wings held stiffly, optics studiously avoiding his gaze. He never saw the former scout look so guilty and troubled; it was practically written on every plate and line of him. He also saw a fearful intensity flashing in his optics, something that told him a lot about just how close he got to the former Decepticon Seeker over the last few cycles. An angry Silverbolt stood stiffly on his left, glowering at the yellow Seeker, not expecting him to be duped by Decepticons, even as the case was a lesson to his own gestalt-members who still had a lingering awe towards the enemy Seekers. Prowl on the other side looked calm and collected on the surface, but as Optimus looked closely, he saw a telltale movement of his doorwings, the one subtly betraying hiding much that he didn't want to speak about. There was something brewing between the three of them; the two Seekers and his SIC, he was sure; and it wasn't nice either. But still… it was not Prowl he had to deal with right now.
"Bumblebee, I don't have to tell you how disappointed I am at what you two have done. What did you think of to just meet with the enemy on your own, without permission or backup?"
"Sir… Prime… I… thought that you encouraged me to fully discover Seeker traditions. Thundercracker told me that at least some Seeker things were beyond factions… and I believed him. Those two Seekers… have acted honorably before. I know now that I was wrong to assume…"
"Bumblebee, you breached all standing orders, broke regulations and fraternized with the enemy – to appease your… lover?" – of course Prowl would approach the matter from the regulations standpoint - and he at the same time he wasn't above using underhanded tactics to slag the visibly desperate Seeker a bit more, already close to break down completely. Even Silverbolt cast an annoyed glance at the tactician and he was definitely not on the Seekers' side at the moment, although he chose not to interfere. Bumblebee looked ready to bolt the room and he couldn't answer with words… but his tortured look that he cast at Prowl was enough to thaw even the ice-cold SIC's anger a bit.
"I can't believe you can be so cruel…" – it was a comm message only but Bumblebee closed the channel already, not waiting for an answer, not even wanting one as he felt totally alone, deserted, excluded… as he had never before felt during his time with the Autobots. His wings drooped low and listless and his frame seemed like bowing, bending in shame and pain. Only the long-ingrained sense of duty and honour kept him in Primes office to face the consequences of his actions. He knew that if he had to, he would go alone to fly to TC's rescue, but he must be here first, remain here first because he wanted to face with any accusations and not slink away like a coward. He collected himself with a visible effort facing Prowl with an angry flash in his optics.
"With all due respect Prowl… Sir… Trine matters a lot for us… for our kind." – It was the first time really that Bumblebee openly and deliberately associated himself with Seeker kind as opposed to grounders and admitting or not, Prowl's attitude had a major part in it. – "There seemed to be a chance to undermine Starscream's authority over his Trine and we took it. Thundercracker clearly expressed before the time of the meeting that he considered his Trine bonds broken."
"And of course obscure Seeker traditions supersede Autobot regulations…"
Optimus Prime chose this klik to cut in the conversation that threatened to go to unpleasant and unprofessional fields. He could make an educated guess now as to what went on amongst these three and he was no going to let it decide the matter at hand.
"Let's focus on immediate matters. Bumblebee acted unwise and he admitted it so, even though I would be interested to hear his exact reasoning at a later time. We can mete out disciplinary action later, but he is right in that Thundercracker's situation right now is our immediate concern."
"Sir, Thundercracker is officially Neutral. We do not bear responsibility for his actions and his predicament. To spend our resources and possible lives on his rescue would be preposterous."
"While it is basically true, I cannot forget the fact that we pledged his safety when he defected and he notified yourself about danger to him, as Bumblebee has told it to me too. We do bear some responsibility for not giving him the means to defend himself."
"If it takes that… I will renounce my allegiance and go to rescue him myself." – Bumblebee was quiet but determined. – "And it is not just because I love him, but because it is the right thing to do."
"Let's not take it to such extremes, Bumblebee." – Prime was not even surprised by his strong reaction. – "We will consider a rescue attempt if it has a chance to succeed."
"Sir, with my teleportation ability the chances are greater than any spying mission we attempted before. It would only require some coordination with human authorities to arrange some sea-vehicles as the Nemesis base is far from the shore and deep underwater. Even if I take extra energon it would be to far to jump, especially with a heavy load."
"Now that is worth considering. It seems that you have already thought of a plan. Elaborate please." – Prime was impressed by the young Seeker; it couldn't have been easy to work out a plan while so troubled with the situation and clearly blaming himself for what happened. If anything he would have expected it from Prowl, who apparently took an adverse stand and was not at all helpful.
After that it took only a few, fretful orns to coordinate with the US Navy to haul a big enough ship out to the proper place to serve as final warping point; to await while Ratchet came up with a solution to the harmful effect of seawater on open injuries, and to work out the exact details of the jailbreak with Jazz and Mirage, who knew the Decepticon base best; albeit it was Bumblebee himself the last 'visitor' of the new Nemesis brig cell, he hardly remembered anything about his time there. Nor did he particularly want to. But when all was done and set, and he flew towards the Con base he couldn't help but wonder. Were they still in time?
Starscream
Starscream was watching from the outside corridor, his back and wings pressed flat to the cold, metal wall, as if for support, when the Stunticons dragged the kicking, shouting Thundercracker into the cell.
He watched as the blue Seeker was roughly hung handcuffed from the chains set to the ceiling, ruthlessly disarmed, searched and transformation cog disabled. They laughed nastily at the Seeker, knowing what was to come. He knew it too. Had seen it many times from the other side of the bars.
He didn't move when Thundercracker shot him a look full of hate, loathing and accusations. He knew what his former wingmate was telling without a single word uttered aloud. It was all that went around in his meta, even as he showed none of it outwards.
He watched impassively and without a visible reaction when Megatron stomped in and gave him a grudging, half-pleased, half-annoyed acknowledgement for capturing the defector. Starscream didn't do it for him, not this time.
He didn't flinch – albeit that was a close thing – when the Megatron called Thundercracker a traitor and landed the first blow to his faceplates. It was followed by several and he managed to watch them all still and unmoving. The blue Seeker didn't once beg for mercy. He knew there was none to come.
He watched when Megatron left the cell later and other Decepticons came in ones and twos like vultures to the prey; to pay him back all the grievances and envy they had for all Seekers. They glanced at him uneasily for the first few breems but disregarded him afterwards when he didn't react to goading.
He watched them to beat, whip, flay and inventively torture his former wingmate for the next few orns. He knew what each of them would do to him and they didn't deviate from their nature. He knew who wouldn't come either. Nobody was interested in getting information.
He stood unmoving while the blue Seeker screamed, cursed, keened, shrieked in pain and finally fell silent, when he couldn't any more. He never said a word to his former Air Commander, Trine-leader, friend and occasional lover. Nor has he.
He watched Thundercracker when he was left alone. He was broken, blind, the once beautiful blue wings almost shredded, the sensitive cockpit glass broken to pieces, wires and cables torn out all over his chassis, energon and other fluids streaking ugly lines on the marred dark blue of his plating. But he was still alive.
He watched unmoving as the Decepticons came for orns to satisfy their sick pleasures. No flier came down to the cell, except once when Silverstorm appeared at his shoulder, one servo touching his wing fearfully with a feather-light touch, almost pleading, wings fluttering nervously behind. He didn't look into the cell and went away after a tense, silent breem, the cube of energon left on the ground by his feet. It went stale soon.
He watched silently even when a yellow shape appeared in the cell with a sudden flash of light and shot him point blank with his null-rays. He fell to the ground incapacitated, and watched on from his new viewpoint. He didn't mind it. His meta seemed… empty for the last few orns. His processor crunched up what his optics sent to it but then it all seemed to go into a limbo. It was a welcome sensation to have the same limbo outwardly too. He had a strange feeling… a premonition almost. He saw freedom again, free of responsibilities, plots, consequences and others imposing on him. His spark soared up, up, up forever into the open sky... and he didn't see the ugly cell any more. Just a golden light encompassing his field of vision…
Bumblebee
The last jump was the hardest, but it was executed perfectly, thanks to the excellent intelligence and precise coordinates, and he appeared in the brig cell, right beside the chained form of Thundercracker. He didn't look at him though, because there was another mech outside the cell and the possible danger outweighed the concern in his meta. His processor identified the colours as Starscream's and he acted on reflex, without a conscious thought, null-rays spewing their charge into him, felling him to the ground, all system shutting down temporarily. He remained alive though and the dull, red optics watched them on from the ground with a strangely empty expression; but Bumblebee had a few more breems before he became a threat once more. He turned to TC and tried hard not to let his rage and concern colour his face or movements seeing his awful condition. The orns that went on since his capture painted all the injuries on his meta's picture and then some. After clamping down a few nastily leaking tubes, he started spraying the injuries with the special sealant gel that Ratchet and Wheeljack concocted and it hardened immediately like translucent rubber over the torn places. Clanging footsteps became louder on the corridor as some Decepticons run towards the brig but he didn't look up from his work. The steps stopped when the seemingly empty air opened fire and the appearing Mirage threw a grenade over the corner in the hallway, while retreating to the forefront of the cells.
"No mech will come from that way any time soon." – he reported calmly, while checking Starscream's condition. – "But this one will online soon." – despite of his assurance, Mirage kept watch for both the downed Seeker and the entryway from the corridor that he had just ruined, hopefully to the point where the Decepticons wouldn't be able to come through and surprise them any time soon.
Bumblebee nodded as he finished the spraying, picked the lock on the handcuffs, got Thundercracker down from the chains and laid the barely conscious mech gently to the floor. His face was unnaturally still, held that way by a force of will, his movements guarded, precise, constrained, wings folded back with that new mod Ratchet made for him… restrained in a way like Mirage never before has seen him; but the blue optics smoldered with a barely concealed rage. Thundercracker squirmed weakly, apparently not recognizing them with the dark, broken optics; the yellow Seeker soothed him with a few, murmured words and he seemed to understand them. After calming him, Bumblebee stepped out from the cell, through the bars that had been forced open and stood over the other Seeker. He crouched and looked into the still curiously empty-looking red optics. He looked into them intently for a few kliks, looking all the world like communicating, even though no words sounded and certainly neither of them were telepaths. But some things do not need words to be conveyed… The red optics flared and dimmed again as the ice-cold blue ones continued to stare into their smoldering depths.
Mirage
Mirage shifted uneasily, not understanding what was going on. He turned towards the corridor, giving the two Seekers some privacy even though he didn't quite know why they would need it. He had met with quite a few Seekers in his own time and he knew how strange their whole culture was; so much more than most grounders thought. He checked if Thundercracker was all right, or at least as fine as he could be expected – which was almost out cold, barely conscious and in a lot of pain. When he looked back next, he saw Bumblebee forcing open Starscream's chest-plates… only he didn't have to use any force to do it; impossibly it looked almost like Starscream was complying with whatever they agreed on without words. A regular pulse-rifle appeared in the yellow Seeker's servos, its muzzle pointing straight into the now visible spark. The Air Commander's optics looked peaceful; free of the weight he carried for so long, the guilt, the sins, the doubts, the wrongs and all those Pit-damned mistakes…
The single shot was unnaturally loud in the dark quiet of the brig. The red optics flamed up once more before the colour slowly drained out from them and the dark helm tilted back. The bright reds and blues on the body washed out, the wings jerked once, last, before they too turned to grey. Bumblebee stood up and without a word crossed back into the cell, gathering up Thundercracker's broken body. He took out two cubes, giving the first to the tortured Seeker, then topping up his own tanks for the way out; nodding to Mirage he gathered him too close, both clenching their armor close to be watertight and he warped out, going as far up as he could. The surface was too far to reach with one jump and he got his bearings after the first one, checking that the gel was holding up on TC's injuries; seawater going into torn, live wires would be fatal in his state. But he seemed to be all right and Bumblebee warped again, until they broke the surface about a hundred meters above the sea-level; firing his thrusters he slowed their plunge back into the ocean while his sensors searched for their target. His navigational computer worked furiously, as it was put to a hard test; three mechs, falling and swaying in the wind and with the water still flowing off of them; and a moving target at the edge of his range, on a waving sea… he warped again, and Mirage felt them crash down from hardly a meter above the flat surface of the flight deck of the USS Nimitz in an prime example of pinpoint jumping, Bumblebee somehow ending up on top of them both, weak from the long warps with a heavy load that took most of his energy.
The sudden appearance and the noisy crash of several tons of alien robots shook up even the huge aircraft-carrier a bit; enough so that several alarm started to wail suddenly on the decks. The commander of the ship was of course notified about the plan as were the crew, and they had a split-second warning when they saw them appearing a few miles off, above the water; but still no Human could stay really calm when the three waterlogged robots, each the size of a big plane came to rest – mostly sprawled on each other – on the flight-deck. The crew on the bridge looked down on them in an awed wonder – it was their first glance of the mysterious alien robots that they only heard of so far. They saw the smallest mechanoid standing up first, extricating him from the ungainly heap, checking his comrades and after getting rid of some water that he got in the vents approached them. He didn't come too close, but was still able to look in the bridge windows easily; a fact that caused some consternation in the Humans inside.
"Thank you for your cooperation…" – Mirage subtly and quickly checked the rank-signs against the internet – "…Admiral. Your help was most appreciated. We will leave your ship as soon as we are in warping distance to the mainland."
On the deck the yellow mech with the wings was up too, crouching over his blue mate and picking off pieces of some kind of a clear, rubbery gel from the other's face and vents, his wings held folded up, stiffly pressed into his chassis. The mech still lying on the deck was obviously heavily damaged and although they couldn't really tell his expression, but he seemed in pain too. The yellow one talked to him on their strange, clicking-whirring-whistling language while his free servo soothingly stroked an undamaged surface on the wings. As more of the sealant came off from him, some of Thundercracker's injuries started to leak and they saw that his optics were dark.
"Umm… some energon is dripping onto your deck as I see" – Mirage turned to the bridge crew once more – "It is harmful to Humans and flammable. After a day or so it looses the latter potency and you can clear it from there with water."
"Uhh… sure… thanks for the warning" – The Admiral answered him, going outside to the gallery – "May I enquire what is it that you have engaged in? I only got an order to be here and transport you closer to the mainland. I understand if it is secret… I'm just curious."
The blue optics turned to him and Admiral Nolan was proud that he contained the nervous flinch. He was huge and the optics were disconcerting as they looked at him. But he answered politely; Mirage knew that the Navy was doing a favor to them in this mission and he was determined to humor the high-ranking human soldier.
"Thundercracker – he is the blue jet – was captured by our enemies, the Decepticons. He was tortured and nearly offlined before we could put this rescue together - with your much appreciated help, as we are quite uncomfortable in salt-water, especially when damaged."
"Does he require assistance? Not that our engineers know much about your kind but they know jets… and maybe…"
"Thank you, but Bumblebee is capable of doing field repairs and he is stable enough to get back to our base alive." – or so Mirage hoped. He was less sure than back in the cell, now that Bumblebee's movements got more frantic by the second. He was tearing off more of the sealant and it was not a good sign; Ratchet said it would keep the Seeker going until they got back to the base.
"I didn't know your kind employs torture… or that you can be tortured."
"Decepticons are vicious generally and often use torture as means of gaining information…" – Mirage hesitated as to how much he should tell to this Human but decided that this information cannot harm anyone. – "But this time there was more than that in it. Thundercracker had defected to our faction earlier and the torture was his punishment in the hands of his former commander. We, the Autobots don't employ such methods."
"Mirage, come here." – Bumblebee was not panicking yet but he was more worried than before. – "I can't seem to stop the leaks, his tubes are… almost like disintegrating."
"Frag!" – Mirage ran to his side while comming Ratchet urgently. – "Ratchet, we have a problem."
"I know, Bumblebee has told me already. Get off the line." – comes the gruff answer from the CMO.
Mirage dropped to his knees beside the two Seekers and saw immediately what Bumblebee was telling. Some parts seemed to come apart, even under the sealant gel – maybe because of it? – and fluids started to pool underneath the translucent rubbery material threatening with a violent explosion if they reached live, sparkling wires. Thundercracker's limbs twitched again and he started keening low as fresh pain flooded his sensors, even as his strength ebbed away with the loss of more of his life-fluids. Mirage pulled out another cube from his subspace pocket and poured some of it into his mouth, but it is clear from the purging, coughing motions that little of it got into his systems. Bumblebee tore away a chest plate to reveal some deeper, underlying tubes that still seemed to be intact and after a hesitant choice jabbed a needle into one of them, connecting the remains of the cube to the makeshift drip. His spark-chamber was visible now and Mirage swore violently, not caring about who heard it; it was as clawed and scratched behind the protective plates as the remains of his outer armour – telling loudly of unspeakable torture of the spark that few survives, either physically or mentally. Bumblebee looked up from his work to Mirage.
"If I don't take you I can warp to the coast now, where Ratchet can work on him. The difference is 3.2 breems." – Bumblebee didn't ask, just told Mirage the fact; he was leading the mission and it was for him to decide. The yellow Seeker was quite simply afraid to act out of line again, not when he was already on probation, not even when all his emotions were screaming at him to do it already.
"Go already." – was it really a question, Mirage wondered. Thundercracker looked to be in a state where every klik counted. But he conceded that Bumblebee had been acting strangely withdrawn and nervous even before the mission… maybe he could find out what troubled him later.
The two Seekers disappeared in a flash of light and the aircraft-carrier gave a smaller, but perceptible shudder at the lightening of the load. Mirage stood to explain to the Humans what happened. The Admiral was surprisingly most understanding and didn't mind going closer to the shore to deliver Mirage and asked sympathetic questions about them. He apparently picked up the worsening condition of the blue Seeker and actually seemed concerned – not many humans could do that at their first meeting with the towering alien robots. He showed an uncanny perceptiveness with his last question too.
"They… I mean your two comrades are involved somehow, aren't they?"
Mirage was probably the last one to know how much the others told to Humans about Cybertronian relationships, so he felt a bit of ill at ease. But he didn't want to lie.
"They are, as human saying goes, romantically involved."
The Admiral's eyes betrayed extreme curiosity and not a little shock. – "You mean they are in love?"
"Something… like that. It is complicated though…"
"Hahh… when is love easy, I wonder." – the Admiral decided that he didn't really want details on how alien robots got about love, so he stayed with a generality that should have been a safe ground. Mirage approved and agreed to both the attitude and the cliché. – "Indeed. I frequently found it so." – he ignored the chagrined look that he got in return.
Ratchet
Bumblebee strained himself to the utmost to make it to the coast where Ratchet was already pacing, waiting his patient. When he heard the Seeker's worried then suddenly frantically nervous comm he didn't know what was going on. The gel should have sealed Thundercracker's injuries and give them a comfortable margin of safety to transport him to the base med-bay. Apparently though it was a vain hope and the more he heard about the disintegrating tubes the darker pictures his meta was painting to him before Bumblebee warped to the shore a scant few meters away, looking like he would fall into stasis straight away from the exertion. But despite of his own weariness he managed to lay Thundercracker onto the rocky shore gently before backing off from Ratchet's way.
It was touch and go for a joor, before he could clear his processor and realized with a few choice curses what caused the trouble with the Seeker's tubes – his own energon reacted with the sealant and the saltwater in a way to scare all of them. Since it was surface reaction only, he could contain the reaction and manage it; he rationalized himself that all of these tubes would have to be replaced anyway, due to the incredible damage to the body. Ratchet had many mechs to repair after torture in his long life, but never failed to curse the ones responsible to the Pit – the wrongs that could be done to a mech's body have always sickened him. Not to mention the recovery afterwards… the Seeker had no friends on the Ark only the already troubled Bumblebee, currently pacing nervously in the brig after the stunt he pulled earlier. Prowl was quite hard on the yellow Seeker, it was commonly agreed among the crew and Ratchet privately agreed with that opinion. For a supposedly unemotional tactician he sure displayed jealousy and resentment just like any mech from the crew and in the medic's book it dangerously skirted abuse of his position.
Nevertheless it was not his place to placate the angry Prowl, who would of course just deny that he had harbored any such emotions; instead he resolved to talk to Jazz who might be able to influence him more subtly. Thundercracker would need Bumblebee around to recover, it wasn't a question, but for now he would have to just keep him under until he finished the repairs.
