Systems struggled to reboot as lightning flashes of pain arced through his neural net. Habit from a hundred other such painful awakenings kept his mouth firmly shut. Disjointed memories tumbled through his head but he couldn't tell yet which ones were the recent cause of his pain and which had been dredged up by the fiery pain coursing through his head.

The flashes of pain began to settle into an unending throb throughout his entire body as one by one necessary systems flickered to life. He could hear a voice but the words were unclear. He kept his optics closed. His audios were saying the voice was coming from somewhere to his back right, but they were still calibrating. Crashing booms caused havoc with his sensitive audios and his equilibrium was so fragged he felt like he was moving, rocking back and forth. His internal comm. was trashed and when his sluggish processor finally began sorting through the tangle of memories he held back a curse.

He could feel energon pooled under him, cold where it wasn't on his frame, and isolated where the worst of the pain was coming from. He had a hole in his abdere, shoulder, and a bad burn across his back as well as the mess that was his head. And the shapeshifter, Jazz had gotten a shot off before he'd fragged up and hesitated. He'd tear a new recruit to pieces for something like that. There were no second chances in XOps, hesitation was a death sentence. He couldn't remember where he'd hit the mech. It wasn't his best shot if the mech was talking. Cursing himself seven ways to the Pit for acting like a green recruit he forced patience into his mind. He had as many systems offline as he did on and flailing around on the floor while he tried to get his legs to work was guaranteed to get him a one way ticket to the Unmaker. The storm was still buffeting the ship, the rocking motion he thought the product of fried sensors was the wind trying to roll the ship.

Redirecting his self-repair to his audios he kept his intakes shallow and quiet. If the glitched mech thought he was dead it would be to his advantage. He didn't assume anything though. Assuming, even a worst case scenario, led to expectations and if he acted on those expectations instead of the reality of the situation that was another trip to see the Unmaker.

With all of his self-repair focused on his audios it was only a breem before they finished calibrating and he had a muffled, but accurate, way to orient himself. The voice wasn't coming from behind him that was a quiet echo, most likely from the bulkhead. The mech was at the front of the ship. Somewhere near the console. A soft creak he identified as a chair. The mech was sitting but which way he was facing was impossible to tell. Jazz smelled burned circuits, but he couldn't tell if that was him or something in the ship. There had been a few wild shots, the console might've taken a hit.

Slowly, laboriously, his systems began inching up as close as they could get to waking parameters when Primus only knew how much of his energon was on the floor under him. His chronometer came online indicating it had been offline for almost a whole orn. He hadn't done a check-in when they landed. Prowl was already edgy and, Primus help him, he had no idea where Hound was or if he was even alive. If they found the scout they would know Jazz was with the imposter. But for the first time in centicycles Jazz had no idea what Prowl would do. His best friend was caught in a paranoid spiral and he hadn't heard from Jazz and he thought he still had an imposter loose on the ship.

The whole orn was an absolute frag up.

oOo

Prowl paced on the bridge like a caged animal searching for something to pounce on. Blaster hadn't been able to reach the shuttle through the massive storm churning the planet's atmosphere. Of course Red Alert would choose a planet to run to with heavy electromagnetic interference. He almost rolled his optics at that thought, but he was caught between the desire to shake Red Alert for running or hugging him tight and finding a way to keep his Senchineru from any kind of harm ever again.

The security team was going through the ship one mech at a time trying to find the shapeshifter but so far nothing had turned up. All those that had been verified using details not in their records were confined to quarters until the imposter was ferreted out. All function on the ship was at a standstill. Everyone was tense and on alert, it was only a matter of time before the frontliners became ready and willing to beat something to scrap. And the more mechs they verified the tighter Prowl's spark wound. He had no idea how they would begin searching for hiding places. They couldn't keep mechs confined to quarters indefinitely. The ship still had to run, they had colonies to stop by and the Decepticons could come out of space at any time and they would have to engage.

A warm hand came down on his shoulder startling him from the circle of thoughts that were beginning to resemble a loop. "Prowl, Jazz and Hound will find him," Optimus' warm voice held the utmost faith in their TIC and senior scout. Prowl nodded. He didn't doubt Hound or Jazz, but this whole situation could have been avoided if he'd acted a little faster. What was it Jazz was always saying about his job? Never assume. He had assumed his presence would calm Red Alert and had been taken completely off guard when Red Alert bolted. Had he been prepared for any outcome, he would have reacted faster, gotten ahold of him. "Prowl," Optimus said in a sterner voice startling him away from yet another loop. Softer he said, "Go to med bay, Prowl. I'll update you when Jazz checks in."

He thought about arguing. But he wasn't doing anything stalking the bridge. He thought about going to his quarters or his office, but he'd almost slipped into two loops in as many breems. He couldn't trust himself to not get trapped in his own head without someone to break him out of it. "Yes, Prime," he said, dipping his head once formally. Ratchet would keep him from a loop if only to save himself trouble.

oOo

Red Alert recharged in his burrow mostly unaware of the storm raging outside. A few times the crash of thunder pulled him from dreams to dim wakefulness but the sky's tantrum wasn't a threat to him. His burrow was safe and warm and dry. The rain and thunder could do as they pleased.

Curling up into a tighter ball he sank back into dreams of a quieter burrow in a small city. His dreams didn't torment him with smoke and fire, but lulled him with ordinary orns of going to work, talking to neighbors, his frequent trips to the library. He was safe in his dreams, of those times before the landing lights lit up the sky and before the Decepticons came and burned it all down around him.

oOo

Jazz was still bleeding which put a time limit on his patience. If he waited too long he wouldn't have the strength to bring down an opponent who sounded otherwise healthy if not for the broken mind. But the mech wasn't moving around much. The chair creaked every now and then as if he was spinning in half circles like Jazz did when he was thinking. But he hadn't made a sound like he was getting up, hadn't paced, as far as Jazz could tell he hadn't even stood up to stretch.

Thunder boomed loud enough to shudder through the ship and the mech cursed the storm and the Autobots and—Jazz assumed—him when he started on a rant about primitive creatures with blasters. The ship hummed quietly as a system was brought online and Jazz stilled even more. If the mech tried to leave the planet he would have to make his move.

The engines didn't come online though, but a crackle and static buzz told him the comms. were still working. Good and bad. He really didn't need Megatron on his aft right now, but at least once he brought the mech down he could call for backup from the Ark.

"Megatron?" the mech asked, a note of whining in his voice that ground down Jazz's already short patience for some reason. "Stupid Autobot tech," the mech muttered. "Megatron? You're on your way, right?" The comms. buzzed with static and Jazz didn't even hear a signal ping, but the mech continued talking. "I've done more than Starscream and Soundwave. I'm the very best. Shockwave was going to waste me, turn me into an experiment, but look at what I've done! I've done everything! I could even kill Optimus Prime himself!" The comms. clicked off and the ship powered down once more when thunder rocked them. "I could," the mech said as that quiet creak started up again. "I could kill Optimus Prime. And then I would be better even than Megatron. Then no one, no one could get me. No one, no one, no one…I could kill the Prime. Yes…I could. I don't need Megatron. I can kill the Prime."

A new sound, a loud creak, and then, at last, a footstep. Jazz readied his body as much as he could. The mech would only be surprised for a second after Jazz moved and if Jazz didn't get a knife in his neck in that second this whole fragged orn was going to freefall straight to the Pit. The mech's gait was awkward, one foot moving normally, but the other was dragging. Some his audio circuitry was fried, but enough of it was operating he could zero in on which side the wounded leg was on. He remembered now he'd gotten the mech in the knee. Not a debilitating injury, but it hurt like the Pit. Pain was as good as a distraction as surprise.

The mech paused after a couple steps breathing harder and made a small sound of pain. A good chance he wasn't a mech accustomed to battlefield injuries. Every frontliner on the ship could pretty well walk off a joint injury, they were as common as air in firefights. Mechs like Blaster and Cosmos who were rarely on the frontlines in active combat didn't do as well with them because they still hurt and pushing through the hurt was an adaptation. The mech started walking again after a few seconds. "Stupid—" a step and drag "—slimy—" another step and drag closer to him "—mud-sucking—" a step almost within reach "—Poly!" The mech was almost right next to him and Jazz lunged.

He opened his optics as he was moving and saw only blurs and smudges of color. But the mech was too close to miss. Jazz's sharp claws dug into the injured joint and the mech collapsed with a high scream of pain. Clamping a hand around the mech's neck he cut off the sound with a hard squeeze. The mech wasn't a skilled fighter, giving in to panic as soon as Jazz's hand was around his throat. Panic made him stronger though and Jazz dug into his reserves to keep him pinned. The energon loss sapped his strength and energy. Squeezing harder he reached with his free hand to a side compartment and pulled out a knife.

The mech landed a flailing punch to the injured side of Jazz's head and the world turned into a tumble of movement, color, and sound. But he'd been injured before, he kept his hand clamped on the mech's neck. Jamming his knife into the mech's chest he felt the blade skitter off a strut instead of sinking into delicate internals. Trying to get his optics to work he pulled the knife out. A hard knee to his abdere finally loosened his hold. The still bleeding wound sent starbursts of agony across his vision and his audios cut out for a brief second as he mind started to spiral back into emergency reboot. Snarling he slashed with the knife and felt the tip carve a line through armor but not through exoform. His vision came back as a blurry mess of colors. One of the colors was scrambling away from him leaving a glowing trail of energon and screaming.

He stood with one leg but the other failed him and another wave of nausea and darkness washed through him. It felt like someone was trying to pull his internals out through the hole in his abdere. The mech lunged to his feet and opened the door letting in a howl of wind and rain and crashing thunder. Jazz threw his knife and the mech screamed again as he tumbled out of the ship. Jazz fell to his side once more breathing hard. There was a medical kit in the back of the ship. It wouldn't have enough to patch the worst of the damage but he might be able to fix himself up enough to follow the mech. The storm wouldn't last forever and now the mech was outside with Red Alert.

oOo

Red Alert blearily opened his optics one at a time. His processor felt like it was on fire and his body was warm like he'd been overheating. His joints ached and he felt like he'd taken a beating from the Unmaker himself. He didn't want to know what had triggered the fit. He hadn't felt like this since the refugee camp. Ratchet was going to be in a fine mood if he'd regressed to one of those violent episodes. Lifting one hand he rubbed an optic tried to sit up before he knocked his horns on the ceiling.

A startled snort blew a fog of hot air out of him. Breathing deep he was overwhelmed by the familiar smell of dirt and water, not the acidic antiseptic smell he'd been expecting. Blinking more awake he realized he wasn't laid out in the med bay, he was in a small burrow nestled among roots. Curling his fingers into the dirt he lifted his head again until his horns touched the low ceiling. This wasn't a hallucination. The dirt under him and above him was very real. Looking over his shoulder he saw a sky almost black with storm clouds and lightning spreading spider webs along their bellies before thunder shook the air. Trees unlike any he'd seen before with long tendrils whipped and flailed in the onslaught of wind and rain.

"Red Alert," he breathed staring at the unfamiliar landscape. "What have you done?"

oOo

Optimus looked into the med bay but didn't walk in. No one walked into the med bay without gauging Ratchet's mood first. But while others might flee when Ratchet was in a throwing mood, Optimus had a small bit of immunity since he was after all the Prime.

Ratchet was reading a datpad, his face set in its usual scowl and he didn't swear when he certainly knew the Prime was hovering in the doorway. Deciding it was safe for now, Optimus walked in. "Prowl?" he inquired softly.

Ratchet put the datpad down and rubbed his optics. "I gave him a mild sedative. He's on the brink of a serious loop. I'm hoping by the time it wears off Jazz will have Red Alert back." Optimus nodded and hoped for the same.

"Keep an optic on him," Optimus said. He kept his voice low so he wouldn't inadvertently draw Prowl into waking early. Ratchet's sharp optics narrowed. "We've verified all ship personnel. The imposter has not been found. Security believes he's gone into hiding." And the monumental task of finding the imposter was now underway. "If Red Alert is out of reach, he may yet try for Prowl."

"Or a Prime," Ratchet retorted the same way Ironhide had. Until the imposter was found Optimus was in the unwanted and uncomfortable position of not being able to trust his crew. He didn't know how Megatron could live in such an environment. Ironhide, Prowl, Jazz, all the officers, they challenged him when they thought it was necessary, but he'd never had the thought that one of them might try to put a knife in his back. This was a lonely and alienating position and he wanted the imposter found for many reasons and one of them was so he could return to speaking to his crew as friends.

"Yes," Optimus said softly, meeting the medic's optics. "Or a Prime."

oOo

Jazz leaned against the bulkhead breathing hard with the med kit next to him. Water was pooling on the floor in front of the open door but he didn't have the strength to get up and close it. His energon loss was reaching critical levels. Snapping the clasps open he pulled out a packet of energon concentrate and used his teeth to tear it open. It was the consistency of gel and tasted like chalk and rust, but he forced the whole packet down. Dropping the wrapper to the side he leaned his head back and closed his optics. It would be a half joor or more before the concentrate hit all of his systems. Then he'd be able to function enough to get up and close the fragging door.

oOo

The filthy creature! It should have been dead. He'd watched in bleed for almost a half joor and still the unholy thing had attacked him. The wind drove rain into his face and it was impossible to see more than a handspan in front of his face as he stumbled and fell across the gently rolling terrain. His intakes rattled where the slimy primitive Primus cursed Poly had stabbed him. It felt like he was breathing fire every time he dragged in a breath. His frame was hot even with the cold rain soaking him. He had to stop, but he had to get away from the ship. The Poly wasn't chasing him, yet.

Megatron had made a mistake attacking Praxus. Praxus never did anything to anyone. He should've firebombed the entirety of Polyhex and wipe those miserable creatures out of existence. Megatron was a fool. He didn't need Megatron. He would be better than Megatron. When he was leader of the Decepticons he'd make certain all the Polyhexians were exterminated. Even half breeds. He wouldn't leave any trace of Polyhexians alive. The stupid miserable creatures would be put down like the diseased animals they were.

But first, he had to kill Megatron.

oOo

Jazz jerked awake and was rewarded with a wash of pain so intense it almost kicked him into emergency reboot. Overriding the command he groaned brought his head forward with more care. His vision was still fragged but his other systems were functioning better. That wouldn't last long if he didn't start plugging the holes.

Dragging the med kit onto his lap he felt around for the surgical supplies. His optics were still useless for anything but general shapes and colors. But he should be able to stop the bleeding in his abdere. Once that was fixed maybe it wouldn't feel like he was inhaling fire.

oOo

Red Alert checked his chronometer and tried to find his last memory of the Ark. Prowl had to be panicking. Ratchet was going to be very unhappy. He'd probably hit him with a wrench on principle. His episodes always left him with blurry memories that were sometimes hard to distinguish from dreams. Still curled in his burrow he stared out into the stormy orn and tried to remember. He knew he hadn't been at a library and most of his neighbors had died in the attack so he hadn't been speaking to them. But the fuzzy line between going to work at his security firm as a civilian and going to his shift as an officer was harder to distinguish. It was too easy for his mind to switch the faces of mechs he once known with the mechs he knew now.

His head started to throb again and he lay back down curling up even tighter as rain and wind whistled past the entrance. The timeframe wasn't important now. What he had to do now was remember how he'd gotten here. Prowl was looking for him, he knew the Praxian wouldn't recharge until Red Alert was found. And he still had some new base security protocols to review. And…an imposter.

His optics snapped open. Yes, there was an imposter on the ship. Prowl was in danger and he wasn't there to help protect him. He'd run from the danger instead of staying to keep Prowl safe. He got up and lifted a hand to crawl out of the burrow, but he still couldn't remember how he'd gotten to this place. He could leave and then…what? If he started wandering aimlessly he'd make himself even more lost and Prowl was looking for him. Imposter or not, not even the glitch could make him doubt that. Leaving the burrow without a clear idea of which direction to go in would complicate the search. Prowl knew him and Jazz was most likely with him. Between the two they would have a search pattern set up.

Retreating to the back wall of his burrow he pulled his knees up to his chest and tried to remember.

oOo

Blaster hunched over the communications console, his optics burning diamond white. Steeljaw and Eject both sat on the console with their optics also glowing instead of scampering around under his feet like they usually did when on duty. Optimus stood a comfortable distance from the younger mech and watched for signs of stress or returning awareness. If Soundwave was trying to get into the system the security team would have to be notified at once. Red Alert was usually the first to know about an intrusion since he had hidden "traps" throughout the systems that changed frequently. Searchlight was had gotten somewhat into the system but his processor was used to processor as much live data as Red Alert did. Something might have slipped past him.

Steeljaw blinked twice and lifted his head a fraction but his optics continued to shine white. It was something though. In a breem or two the young mech would be back with them. Eject stretched his wings and fluffed his feathers as his optics flickered back to their usual gold. Optimus was hopeful the mech had made it through to Jazz. Two orns without any contact with him was enough to make even Optimus feel a little anxious.

Blaster at last lifted his head but a frown stayed on his face instead of the bright smile he would have if he'd contacted Jazz. "Blaster?" Optimus asked. Rubbing his face and blinking a few more times Blaster looked at Optimus and gripped the console as he pulled himself out of the systems and network. Optimus had only seen Blaster dive that deep during attacks. It left him with lingering processor aches and exhaustion so he couldn't delve as deep as often as Soundwave. "Did you contact Jazz?" Optimus asked as neutrally as he could.

Blaster shook his head and flicked a hand at the view screen holding a live image of the planet their security director and TIC and Hound had disappeared on. "Fraggin' planet is ripe for ongoing electrical storms. Trailbreaker said it's some kind of cyclical thing. It'll dissipate eventually, but it'll take another orn or something."

"What did you find?" The news wasn't inspiring, but there was an end in sight. There was a good chance Jazz and Hound were still on the ship if the storm was bad. He hoped Red Alert had found a safe space to ride out the storm. He almost laughed at that thought. If anyone was going to find a safe space on an unknown planet during a massive electrical storm it would be Red Alert. He should be hoping the light craft Jazz and Hound were on would hold up under the strikes.

Blaster yawned and rubbed his face again while Steeljaw shook himself like he'd been doused with water. "I dunno. I thought I heard an echo, like a bridge opening but it was there and gone so fast it might've been a star echo. But…" he frowned as he stared at the console, likely reviewing whatever he'd heard.

"Did you get a good sample?" Optimus asked, glad to have some way to help one of his officers. Blaster nodded and his fingers danced across the console with almost careless ease. The young mech was—slowly—maturing into a very good officer. Given his love of all things in the network he might one orn revolutionize how they communicated and how they analyzed the constant noise in space. He could only hope when that orn came that it wouldn't be a discovery a thrown to the machine of war but something for a better world.

The sample played and Optimus' first reaction was to say it was indeed a bridge opening somewhere nearby, but there was a red dwarf not far from them. Their pulses did sound a great deal like bridge openings. Crossing his arms he considered the sound with a frown to match Blaster's.

"Play it again," Cosmos said leaving navigation to stand next to Optimus. The sound played again. "I think that was a bridge," he said slowly. "Skyfire might give better verification, but I'm about ninety percent certain that wasn't a star."

"But I'm not getting any ship pings," Blaster said still staring at the console. "I did a few sweeps as far as we can reach but there's nothin' new out there. If it was a bridge it popped opened and closed in just a few seconds."

"Possibly a test," Optimus said. "If they've made modifications to their bridging technology it would be prudent to make sure they work. I've asked Skyfire to come to the bridge." It could well be a star echo, but with two officers off ship and a missing enemy agent it was better to err on the side of caution.

They were silent until Skyfire entered the bridge with quiet concern. He nodded at Blaster and the sound filled the bridge again. Skyfire's dark optics narrowed and he tilted his head to the side. "Can you slow it by about twenty percent?" Blaster made the adjustments and when the sound played again there was a faint whump that came at the very end of the recording. "That," Skyfire said definitively, "is not a star."

"So a bridge opened and…something came through but unless Soundwave has figured out how to mask actual sound waves there isn't a ship out there," Blaster said frustrated.

Skyfire nodded. "I agree, there isn't a ship out there. The entry sound would have been thunderous even for a small craft. This is something much smaller, perhaps an ejection pod?"

"You think Megatron finally kicked Starscream off the ship and ejected him to random coordinates?" Cosmos asked with dark humor. "Did you get any smaller pings?"

Blaster shook his head. "If it's something as small as an ejection pod it won't give back a solid ping. I'll be picking up every scrap of debris out there." He gave Optimus a wry smile. "That's why Jazz likes using the pods for entry. Pit near impossible to pick one up unless you're doing constant sweeps of the exact same area and accounting for all unique pings of the surrounding debris." That had been a new development by XOps not long after Jazz and Blaster became a nigh inseparable pair. It had long been thought too risky to send in teams without a shuttle to give supporting firepower, but the pod technique had been an unqualified success. Optimus smiled at the young mech. Ironhide hadn't been certain the young, cocky, and rambunctious mech had what it took to be an officer, but Prowl had once again shown he knew exactly what he was doing. Blaster was a force and a half when it came to sound analysis.

The swell of pride was cut short when Cosmos said, "So a bridge just opened and ejected Pit knows what, but our best guess is at least one pod, more likely more, and we have no way of verifying where that bridge originated or what just popped into our space." Silence descended heavy and thick over the bridge.

"I'm trying," Blaster whispered as he stared at the swirling clouds on the planet's image. "But I still can't get through to Jazz."

oOo

Fire burned through the clouds brighter than the lightning. A dozen fireballs streaking through the rain to impact the ground with a jarring force louder than the thunder. Had Megatron come? He stayed huddled against the groaning tree he'd limped and dragged himself to. He was considering going back to the ship and shooting the Polyhexian a few more times and dumping him out in the rain. Lightning danced across the ground leaving scorched grass and trees but the relentless rain didn't let the flames catch.

Perhaps Megatron had sent him help to kill the Polyhexian and Red Alert. He would have to find the new arrivals and let them know Red Alert was his to kill. Pushing away from the tree he started limping again toward the glow where the pods had impacted.

oOo

Jazz woke up when an unnatural sound broke through the storm. He'd gotten the bleeding in his abdere stopped but the effort had forced him into emergency reboot. The ship shuddered again, but this time not from wind or thunder. The crack of a shockwave and impact shook the ship again. He counted twelve before it was only the storm raging outside. Pulling out another packet of concentrate he sucked it down while he set to work on the wound on his head. He needed to get either his audios back to full function or get his optics working better.

oOo

The streaks of color burning through the clouds made Red Alert's spark clench in memory. There was no reason for Prowl to send out individual pods, he would have sent a ship since he didn't know Red Alert's condition. The pods slammed into the ground casting and orange glow on the horizon and when the shockwave reached him it blew in mud and rain. He couldn't stay in his burrow any longer. He had to remember and if he couldn't then he had to move because whatever had just landed wasn't from the Autobots.

oOo

A/N: If you haven't listened to stars, I highly encourage you to go to the Kepler website and click around for a while. Space is a noisy place.

Also: Ahhhhhh! One chapter left!