"That's what you hear?" Cliff said in disbelief, shaking his head, "You think you're broken, that Bots will think you were defeated?"

{I was damaged beyond repair. Like this city, possibly even like our world will be. What else could anyone think?}

"You survived," Cliff replied in a cold voice, "When you stared into the face of the Pit itself, you spat in its eye. And you survived."

{For all the good it did.}

"Self pity isn't something Bots like you and I can indulge in, kid," Cliff said harshly, "We are the ones still alive and kicking, which means we have a responsibility to the ones who aren't. The ones like Tailgate. The ones we couldn't save, the ones who died fighting for what we believe in. We're not here to avenge them, revenge only gets you killed and that's not respecting the memory of the dead. We're here to finish what they started, because they can't. Because they died so we could live."

There was silence for a long moment, and Cliff wondered if Bumblebee intended to speak again. Then, very quietly, almost more to himself than to Cliff, he spoke.

{I made a promise. When I was dying. I don't know if I saw the well of Allsparks, or just the inside of my own head. Either way, I swore that, if I survived, I'd spend the rest of my life making sure Megatron regretted what he'd done. To stop him from succeeding. I'm willing to die for that.}

"Dyin' is easy, kid," Cliff commented, "And there's no deal you can make with Death that'll bring you back. You survived because it wasn't your time. Because you have something to give to this war. Something nobody else does."

{What's that?}

"Your voice. You're still alive, so you better respect those who aren't. You shouldn't be silent because you still have a voice. There are those less fortunate than you. Not just Tailgate. But also ones like Arcee, lost in shock and fear. You have the opportunity to try and bring her, and others, back. To tell them that seeing the heart of darkness, the beast they're really fighting, doesn't have to be the end. I believe that your voice can do that. Be the proof that all isn't lost. That we can survive."

Cliffjumper couldn't know that the report he wrote after returning from the rescue mission would one day, not even that far in the future, come to the attention of Optimus Prime who was searching for the right Scout to complete a most unique and quite possibly dangerous assignment.

Optimus knew of Bumblebee, of course. He'd met the Scout more than once. In fact, Bumblebee was his preferred Scout when he needed one. Bumblebee was reliable, and he was fearless but always cautious. He would fight whenever and wherever it became necessary, take whatever steps were required to insure victory, no matter how dangerous or difficult they might be. But he also knew when to favor stealth over fighting, and was capable of guiding one or even many through the most densely populated hostile territory unnoticed, if not unseen.

But Cliffjumper's report was the first he'd seen since Bumblebee had been captured. He hadn't seen the Scout in some time, and the soldier Cliffjumper described was not the same one he had known. And yet, he was somehow exactly what Optimus had expected. And exactly what was needed.

The decision was made almost at once. He wanted the Scout recalled from wherever he was now, and brought to him. If he could have, he would have gone to find Bumblebee himself. The Scout deserved that much courtesy considering what Optimus was going to tell him, and then ask of him.

Word got out inside of a week, and the Scout came in from the field and was shipped straight to Optimus at one of the few remaining Autobot bases.

{Reporting as ordered, sir.}

Optimus noted that Bumblebee did not identify himself by name. Protocol dictated that he do so, but many Scouts of his caliber had developed the habit of withholding that information. Typically they did so to protect themselves from potential traitors, but Optimus didn't think that was the reason here.

Bumblebee knew Optimus had gone to some lengths to see that he arrived here, and was undoubtedly already well aware of his name, even aside from their having met before. Optimus let the impertinence slide this time. There were more important things to discuss.

"Cybertron is dying," Optimus said, getting right to the issue at hand, "You shouldn't look so surprised. It was you who drew my attention to that fact, which has gone ignored for too long. You know that you are among the youngest Cybertronians in existence, one of the last to have come online. You know as well as I that the end is near, regardless of who strikes the winning blow in the war."

{I am aware,} the Scout admitted, {But I choose not to dwell on the negative. We are not dead, and so we have no right to act like we are.}

"Be that as it may, we need a contingency plan. In case evacuation becomes necessary."

{What would you have me do?}

"There is a planet some distance from here, known as Earth. I need you to scout it, determine the nature of its lifeforms and methods of evasion. Make no mistake, this is a planet belonging to others, not us. We cannot behave as Decepticons. We must coexist, or conceal ourselves. We must not interfere with the lives of these creatures, or hinder their development. It is their planet, not ours. Do you understand?"

{Covert op. Observe and report back,} the Scout said crisply, {Do not engage. If captured, do not resist with violence. Understood, sir.}

"Bumblebee," Optimus said slowly, "I have to make sure you really do understand. You cannot, for any reason whatsoever, harm the creatures of that planet. No matter what."

The Scout nodded, this time saying nothing.

"Take a good look around, because you may never see this planet again. Get some rest, you leave in the morning. Dismissed."

Bumblebee nodded again, turned and walked out. He didn't even ask how he was meant to communicate his findings over such distances, or how he was supposed to get there in the first place. Those details were taken care of, naturally, but the Scout didn't even ask about them. He was putting a lot of faith in Optimus. If asked, the Scout would have replied simply that he'd go where he was sent, do what was asked of him, everything else be damned.

Optimus hoped he was making the right decision. If he was not, there was no telling how high the cost might be, especially for the Scout he was sending out into the unknown.

But then, that's what Scouts were for. It's what they did. But that didn't mean it wasn't dangerous.

There were many reasons to send Bumblebee rather than any other Scout. He was experienced, he was exceptionally skilled. But he was also dangerous.

Cliffjumper's report detailed a Scout teetering on the edge of becoming a rogue. Optimus hoped some distance from the Decepticons and the war itself would help stabilize the Scout. He didn't want to lose Bumblebee, he was the best Scout the Autobot army had.

What the Scout did not know was that Optimus had an ulterior motive. Energon was in short supply and constant demand. Worse, the Decepticons were better at taking it than the Autobots were. They were at once stealthier and more aggressive. And their numbers were greater.

There seemed only one course, and that was to hide energon somewhere beyond Decepticon reach. Bumblebee was not the only Scout being sent out to find a place to hide energon. But he was one of the few who knew that the real reason for doing so was that Optimus anticipated evacuation.

That was, in part, why he did not discuss it. Bumblebee knew the score, perhaps better than anyone. He would know that energon must be taken to locations off world for the Autobots to stand a chance of surviving without Cybertron. Once again, the specifics did not need to be discussed. He either knew them, or did not care to know them.

That night, Bumblebee dreamed.

Once again, he was reaching for the truth buried in his memory, locked away to protect him from himself. He remembered little of the specifics of past pain and torment, all had blurred together in one intense moment of suffering, lived over and over in dreams, the memories coming unbidden and never leaving entirely in spite of what Bumblebee could do to dismiss them.

Only now he remembered something he had seen. After he'd been captured, as he was led away, he'd turned his head to see... if only he could remember it. It was something, a wide arch stretching away overhead, standing like a monolith, glowering down at all who passed.

But it wasn't made of stone, it was a marvel of technology beyond anything Bumblebee had seen before. What he didn't know was that this was a Space Bridge, or the prototype for one anyway. He had described it in detail to the bot who'd debriefed him after he'd been found.

He didn't know where it had gone from there, and he didn't really care.

It wasn't this scene that was haunting him. It was something before this. Something had happened to him, there was a face he couldn't recognize, a voice whose words he couldn't quite hear.

2011, Earth

Bumblebee stirred. It was night. He was alone. But not really. Never alone. Always there were the fallen, the dead whom he had a responsibility to honor. He could not believe he had forgotten, even for an instant, what Cliffjumper had said.

He had a voice, he must not be silent. He had four wheels, he must not be still. He had a mind, he must think. He had a weapon, he must fight back. If not for himself, than for all of those who had died, for the belief they had carried with them to their graves. He must finish what they started, because he could and they could not.

"When Megatron breaks you, tell him it was Pit Viper who gave you to him."

The distantly remembered words jolted Bumblebee fully out of his doze. He had forgotten those words because they were followed by so much pain, his only defense had been to blank out his mind. He had effectively shut himself down, thinking nothing. There had been nothing but the pain, nothing except the torment. He resigned himself to the fact it would never end, convinced his own mind that there was nothing he could do to make it stop.

Megatron had wrung screams from him, but no words. If only he'd known how close Bumblebee had been to breaking. As his voice box was crushed, Bumblebee had actually spoken a word. Only one before he could not speak at all, and Megatron had believed it was a curse. Pit.

Megatron had assumed it was a reference to the Pit. But it had been the first part of the name of the one who had wounded him, incapacitated him and left him for Megatron to find. The Viper.

If only Megatron had known. If only Bumblebee had remembered.

The Viper who pursued him was the same as the one long ago. The one who had cost him his voice, and very nearly his life. The Viper was after him once again.

But was it the real one, or only the distant memory of that ghost in the darkness who had come out of nowhere, killed so many in one violent act and then left Bumblebee to be tortured by another? Was he being chased by memory, or by reality?

He didn't know. But he was closer now. Closer to an answer. And closer to... home.

Not fully comprehending that thought, Bumblebee let himself fall back into sleep.