A/N: Well, that took forever. And look, it's another crappy chapter. Yee hah.

Funny, in the former version of this story, I remember that this part was one of the easiest to write.

Weaving the Net

At first it was quiet. The landscape was unsuspecting of any danger or future excitement. The flourish of activity coming from the underground had faded, replaced only by a dull sense of disinterest. It was back to as it usually was in space: still and obsolete.

Then, in a flash of light, everything changed.

Wheeljack felt himself hit the ground with an unrelenting force, just before his footing slipped and he went tumbling down a gully. He eventually hit something solid, which he wasn't sure he was grateful for or not. In any case, when the dust settled and his vision stopped spinning, he peered upwards in time to see Perceptor step over him and drop down into a tunnel.

'You have discovered the mine,' Perceptor informed him.

His vision regained focus and he examined his surroundings. It looked as though he'd crashed right into one of the upper tunnels of the abandoned mines. The place certainly had the stench of them; not that he had been in many mines, but he could tell that was dark, gloomy, and had a high probability of being haunted. It was his kind of place. Vaguely reminded him of the places he and Perceptor used to run around in back during the war, when sometimes you had to get dirty in order to survive a routine Decepticon raid.

'Oh, don't worry 'bout me, thanks!' Wheeljack rolled back onto his feet. 'I've been in worse condition.'

'And I have always been the one to repair you.'

'They weren't repairs. They were upgrades.'

'Costly upgrades.' Perceptor checked his scanner. 'I am detecting Hot Shot's energy signature. Shall we proceed or do you desire to argue your case?'

'No, no, let's get this over with.'

Perceptor cocked the blaster he'd brought with him. 'I will lead.'

Without waiting for a response, Perceptor retreated into the tunnel, with Wheeljack closely behind him. His headlights fell upon multiple footprints beneath them, one set large enough to easily belong to Ironhide. They followed them until the prints splintered off into an adjacent tunnel, while Perceptor's scanner guided them in an entirely different direction.

It was oddly still. Wheeljack kept imagining a number of obstacles in their path, but there was nothing there except the dreamlike echoes of Cybertronians who once roamed these hallways. The footprints, themselves, hurried through the tunnel. Perceptor kept his blaster poised, while Wheeljack covered the rear and saw the path they went through vanish behind them. Fortunately they didn't go so deep that they never lost a lock on the Passage, so in all frankness they could've transported back at any time. But it felt like those old one way journeys.

This reminded him of the Great War. Wheeljack hadn't seen much action since those glory days, mainly because of his knowledge of Project Omega and other classified matters. It excited him. It rekindled those old dormant instincts that shadowed him. At the same time, it reminded him of the risks they'd taken and he silently reminded himself to be weary. This was business, not pleasure, much as he wanted it to be, and to confuse the two would have disastrous results. He'd learned that the hard way a long time ago.

Eventually they stumbled upon a series of tunnels that were obviously frequented by Hot Shot. Lights were strung up on the ceiling, providing limited but satisfactory illumination. They came to a halt when they heard faint crashing from just ahead, followed by rushed footsteps.

Thus, they heard Hot Shot before they saw him. Up ahead, Perceptor paused at a corner and outstretched his hand, stopping Wheeljack dead in his tracks. He cocked his blaster and inched forwards.

'Impossible, impossible, IMPOSSIBLE!' Hot Shot exclaimed. He was in the middle of the room, rummaging through a pile of empty jars. When he came up with nothing, he started pacing in a wide circle. 'Where is it?'

The two of them ducked back.

'So, go talk to him,' whispered Wheeljack.

'This was your idea,' stated Perceptor.

'It was not!'

'You are a conversationalist, Wheeljack. Logically you should be the one to go reason with him.'

'But – '

Perceptor shoved Wheeljack into plain view.

Hot Shot rounded on him. For that instant in time, everything beyond the two of them seemed to freeze. There was just him, facing this maniac who may kill him at any given time, but just as likely to embrace him as a friend. For the moment Hot Shot's expression was one of incoherence; Wheeljack got the impression that he was only vaguely aware of him and everything else, focused on something beyond the realm of what he could see.

'…Uh…hi,' Wheeljack waved. 'What's up?'

'What's up?' Hot Shot shouted. 'What's up? Everything's falling apart!'

'Well, I'm Wheeljack, that's Perceptor,' Wheeljack indicated who was who. 'Look, I could go into a very long explanation as to why I'm here, but I get the impression that if I do that – are you listening?'

Wheeljack physically turned Hot Shot around to face him.

'I get the impression that if I were to explain why I was here, you would neither pay attention nor care,' said Wheeljack. 'So, I'm going to have to ask you to come with us back to our ship.'

'No!' Hot Shot cackled nervously. 'No! It's wrong! No JaAm! I can hear my thoughts! I need more! There is none!' He collapsed to the ground, rocking back and forth like a traumatized and lost protoform.

Wheeljack was about to speak. Unfortunately, Hot Shot beat him to words.

'You'll help me, won't you?' A crooked smile crossed the Autobot's face. Hot Shot clawed at his leg. 'You'll help me! You'll go to Oil Slick! He'll give me more JaAm! I need JaAm! I'll go crazy if I don't have JaAm! You'll help me, right? You're nice 'bots! You'll go quietly! I'll take you to him and he'll give me JaAm! You'll help me!'

'Uh, I – '

'MORE!' Hot Shot shrieked. 'Oil Slick will give me more JaAm when he sees I have you!'

He let out a final laugh before staggering to his feet. Hot Shot leaned against a pillar of rock. He clutched at his chest, like his spark was about to explode out of his chest. Wheeljack recoiled at an energon-curling scream, a final moan of pain, and a dull thud.

Hot Shot lay on the ground, face first. Perceptor hurried into the chamber.

'…Is he offline?' asked Wheeljack.

'I am unsure,' admitted Perceptor.

'…Get closer. Can't leave him here, anyways.'

'…You may proceed ahead of me.'

'No, really. After you.'

'I insist.'

'So do I. Move it or I'll make you test my next invention.'

Perceptor contemplated this. Then, with great reluctance, he edged closer to Hot Shot's unconscious and twitching body.

It was soon clear that Hot Shot wasn't going to wake up any time soon and Perceptor and Wheeljack loomed over him, uncertain about what their next move was.

'What now?' asked Wheeljack.

'We have progressed this far,' stated Perceptor. 'Since we have apprehended Hot Shot, we should continue our original plan. There is a slight probability that he will still be of some usage.'

Wheeljack and Perceptor slung Hot Shot's unconscious body between the two of them. In a flash of light, he felt the ground sink away from their feet and they shot upwards in a flurry of sound, once more consciously leaving behind the prisoners of Team Chaar.

Wheeljack stepped into the med pay with a datapad and the distinct feeling that if he entered, ninety percent of his body was going to have to be replaced again. And he was right. When he entered, he ducked just as a fireball flew his way and left a visible burn mark on the door behind him.

Glaring, Hot Shot resumed his pacing, muttering incoherent gibberish that made Blurr sound slow.

The situation was tense. They'd come back to the Passage with an unconscious Hot Shot and Perceptor's immediate suggestion was that they imprison him, something Wheeljack had argued against and quickly won. After all, starting a professional relationship with someone by imprisoning them wasn't exactly the best strategy. Things took a turn for the worse, however, when Wheeljack realized that in every way, Perceptor had been on to something. Now, Hot Shot – agitated and visibly annoyed, who hadn't said a word to them since regaining consciousness – was pacing on the far side of the laboratory. Free of restraints. Free to do whatever he wanted.

Perceptor was standing where Wheekjack had left him, his blaster trained on Hot Shot and probably the only reason the 'bot hadn't attacked them on sight. He sighed and approached, mind his thoughts momentarily wandering to Team Athenia and the lack of time they were dedicating to actually finding them.

'How is he?' asked Wheeljack.

'Unwell,' stated Perceptor.

'Just pulled out his profile from the database,' announced Wheeljack, handing the datapad to Perceptor. 'Confirmed his identity. He's Hot Shot, alright. Pyrotech.'

'That elaborates on a few details,' Perceptor eyed the flamethrowers mounted on Hot Shot's arms.

'He's from a cluster of energon farms located on the far edge of Autobot space, out near the Nebulan Republic,' continued Wheeljack. 'Our friend here disappeared 'bout 500 stellar cycles ago while on a routine transport job between colonies. The investigators found debris on a nearby moon and assumed he'd crashed and was offlined in the explosion. Had a bit of a history, so there wasn't really anyone to ask questions and the case was closed. He was declared legally offline.'

'I suppose it is best to assume that Team Chaar abducted him,' said Perceptor, 'for casual experimentation, I imagine.'

Hot Shot abruptly cackled. 'Casual experimentation…'

The agitated expression returned and he resumed his pacing.

'The mental state we discovered him in is induced,' concluded Perceptor. 'The effects wore off rapidly. More importantly, JaAm must be an invention of Oil Slick's.'

'That'd make sense.'

'Of course it does, Wheeljack. Everything I conclude is reasonable, which is more than I can say for you.'

'Glad to hear you have confidence in me.'

'I have confidence in your…creativity.'

'That's just a nice way of sayin' I'm not scientific enough, isn't it?'

'Precisely.'

SLAM.

Wheeljack jumped. Hot Shot had just opened a nearby locker and slammed it shut. He was now searching all of the lockers nearby.

'I am not certain that recruiting Hot Shot was the best strategy,' admitted Perceptor. 'I had been anticipating that he would be coherent.'

'How do you know he isn't coherent?'

'Does he seem coherent to you?'

'Only one way to find out,' shrugged Wheeljack. 'Hey, Hothead!'

Hot Shot froze and slowly focused his optics on them.

'Got something I want to show you,' he said.

Wheeljack held up a cylinder canister. A JaAm jar. Hot Shot screamed and scrambled backwards, pressing himself against the opposite wall.

'Relax, it's empty!' laughed Wheeljack, turning it upside down to prove his point.

'Does it matter? !' Hot Shot hollered. He pointed at the canister dramatically, as if it had wronged him in some horrible way. 'That's JaAm! It's the embodiment of evil!'

'It can't be that – '

Hot Shot glowered.

'Well, it's – uh…okay. It's evil. Fair enough.'

'You don't have any more of it lying around, do you?' Hot Shot demanded. He began to circle the med bay, checking in random drawers.

'No,' said Wheeljack.

'Oh, and just to let you know, I hate doctors. So don't come near me or you'll loose a few vital body parts.'

'I'm a scientist, not a doctor.'

Hot Shot didn't look entirely convinced, but had completed his inspection of the med bay and was now just pacing, rubbing his servos. He seemed to be at a loss of what to do next.

'Okay,' Hot Shot rubbed his head. He pointed at his surroundings. 'Okay, let me just make sure I got this right. This is an Autobot ship?'

'Yup. You're on board the Sojourner's Passage, near Team Chaar's base. We found you on the asteroid. Well, we didn't find you first, technically. Never mind.'

Wheeljack proceeded to explain the very complicated reason they were here. In all of the excitement he'd almost forgotten that they were really here to rescue Red Alert. He summarized how Red Alert had been kidnapped, then how they'd recruited Team Athenia to help them. Hot Shot only seemed to take in a small portion of this; maybe it was just the after effects of the JaAm, but he continuously circled the room and stopped several times, as if he'd suddenly forgotten where he was and how he'd gotten there. He had to repeat parts of the story several times before he was convinced that Hot Shot was fully informed of the situation.

'Okay,' Hot Shot said after he was done. 'You got some 'bots missing.'

'Yeah,' nodded Wheeljack.

'Kidnapped by Team Chaar.'

'That's right.'

'And you caught me because you thought I would help you?'

'Pretty much.'

Hot Shot gawked at him. Then he started laughing.

'You seriously thought I'd help you guys? !' Hot Shot laughed. 'Do I look reliable to you?'

'Well – '

'And do you even know who Team Chaar is? ! Do you realize what they do to prisoners? !'

'I got an idea and it's not pretty.'

'Well, whatever horrible fantasy you can come up with, it's about ten times worse. I've been trying to get off that stupid asteroid for years! I'm trying to get away from them and you think I'm going to go waltzing into their base, stare them in the optic, and ask nicely if I can have those Autobots? ! I don't think so!'

'Look, we went through a lot of trouble to get you and we probably shouldn't have in the first place. Whether you like it or not, you are helping us!'

'Yeah, sure.'

'…But if being's a prisoner so bad, you can help us save them from whatever you went through!'

'I'm not going back there,' affirmed Hot Shot. 'A long, long time ago – just after I was first brought here – I escaped and I went back to help some Autobots I'd left behind. Long story short, that was a big mistake. I'm not going through that again.'

Wheeljack sighed. 'I'm sympathetic, really – '

'We cannot risk allowing Team Chaar to remain in custody of these Autobots,' Perceptor raised his voice. 'Security is at stake.'

'I don't care,' snapped Hot Shot.

Wheeljack guided Perceptor aside. 'Let me take care of this, alight?' He turned back to Hot Shot. 'You actually know one of the kidnapped Autobots. You remember a guy named Rodimus Minor at all?'

'Who?'

'Rodimus.'

Hot Shot strained. 'Not really.'

'It would've been just in this last stellar cycle. About so high, kind of reddish, bow and arrow?...Acts like he knows everything?'

Hot Shot considered this. 'Oh, him? You're telling me that glitch got caught by Team Chaar?'

'Yup.'

'…Good riddance.'

'Hey!'

'Why take away the fun?' asked Hot Shot. 'Let him escape on his own.'

Perceptor sidled into the picture.

'This is not progressing,' Perceptor hissed. 'Allow me to access his memory banks and we may still obtain usable information.'

'Hang on, I got a back-up plan,' Wheeljack whispered.

'Oh?'

'Yup. Bargaining.' Wheeljack stepped forwards. 'Hot Shot, I could just maroon you back on the asteroid and leave you here to rot. But if you help us, I might consider not doin' that.'

'…What do you mean?' Hot Shot asked hesitantly. 'You mean you'd get me off of here? No strings attached?'

'One ticket back to Autobot space. What you do from there is your business.'

'…Where in Autobot space? Not Cybertron, right?'

'I suspect we'll be going straight back to Athenia.'

'And that's…where?'

'Obscure colony on the Galactic Rim.'

'Hm.'

'There's a catch, though. You have to help us get our guys back.'

'And if I refuse you'll throw me back to Team Chaar?'

'Ah, now you're getting it. You convinced?'

'When do we start?'

Wheeljack turned on his heel. He winked at Perceptor as he passed. 'Right away.'