Warning: Switchshade's in a Very-Not-Good state of mind in this chapter for a bit, and while it will all get resolved in the end, there are some very Not-Good thoughts that he has (all of which are entirely unfounded, but he's feeling guilty and guilt does some sketchy stuff sometimes). It is important to note two things however. 1, the italics as Switchshade's thoughts are just that, his thoughts, and none of the humans or Autobots have any idea what's going on in his head-he gets his repression tactics from his sire. 2, things will get better, he will realize it's not his fault, and even if it was, that misplaced guilt is not the way to go about fixing the problem. However, I'd like to think they're enough like us that none of them are entirely faultless either, so count this impromptu pity-party as one of Switchshade's faults, if you'd like. If I could write a perfect character (spoiler alert: I can't! ;) ) I probably wouldn't anyway. Everyone has faults, and so here is one of his… Yeah. Thanks once more for everyone who's read/reviewed/etc. Always greatly appreciated!
Stunned by the realization of what, exactly, now rested on his shoulderplates, Switchshade bowed his helm in grief. This was my fault… He followed Ratchet with a heavy spark as the medic led the way to the pod. Their fears were realized as they came upon the empty shell, and wary nervousness lit in all four Cybertronians' optics. "It's a trap-a scraplet trap" the medic announced, his normally gruff voice even more rough than usual in an effort to hide his fear. "Uh… an empty scraplet trap…" Bulkhead pointed out needlessly, drawing his servos and plating closer to his frame defensively.
Watching the Wrecker out of the corner of his eye, Switchshade felt the floor spinning beneath his pedes at the sight of Bulkhead displaying behaviors that he himself had adopted not long ago in an attempt to make himself feel even marginally safer when faced with a deadly threat.
"Most likely ejected into space eons ago, only to wind up in the Arctic, where the temperature kept them in stasis." Ratchet muttered, activating a light on the tip of his servo as he carefully looked into the now-empty pod. The ex'-Con wanted to step forward, wanted to claim the guilt that he knew rested rightfully on his helm, but Jack beat him to it. "Until we brought the thaw…" With one, simple sentence, the human had taken the blame for this cluster-frag, and had spread it upon them all, just for bringing the pod back to the base. This was of Decepticon make. Pit, I slagging watched Starscream and Shockwave design a similar trap in the early stages of the war. Why, why could I not realize what this was sooner?
Unaware of the black mech's inner turmoil, the humans continued the conversation, as Miko spoke up, "Now they're wide awake and ready to brunch…" A moment of silence fell over the base, and then Raf asked the room at large, "So… how many are we talking about?" Switchshade heaved an ex-vent, murmuring guiltily at the same time as Ratchet's grumble,
"Thousands."
"Thousands, at best. I-" he cut himself off, but the medic simply waved him to continue, and Switchshade hesitated for a klik before doing so. "I… have no great personal experience with such traps, but this one was of Decepticon make. There would have been a minimum of three thousand scraplets contained in this single pod, and even a fraction of that number would be sufficient to cause unimaginable levels of damage."
Switchshade tried to continue, to apologize for his terrible failure in neglecting to recognize the threat sooner, but once again he found the words stuck in his vocalizer, and before he could clear the static, Ratchet was nodding his agreement. "And the power malfunctions and groundbridge damage are sure signs that their infestation is well on their way."
Surprisingly, there was no rebuke, no hidden anger in the medic's words that Switchshade could detect. The frustrated rage that permeated the base was focused solely on the scraplets and the damage they had caused. For now… Once this threat has been removed, perhaps then blame will find me. As it should.
The CMO hurried over to the computer, attempting to contact Lord Prime immediately to inform him of the circumstances, but even as he tried to get in contact, it was clear that there would be no response. Amongst the interference and static, the medic attempted to speak, "Ratchet to Optimus, do you read me? We have a situation." The screens bearing Lord Prime's vital stats, as well as Arcee's and Cliffjumper's, frizzed static for a moment as well before going dark, and Ratchet snarled. "The scraplets have gotten into the comm. link system. If we don't eradicate these creatures immediately, they will reduce the entire base to a scrapheap."
Bulkhead, ever a mech of action, was quick to pipe in, "Well I say we bug out of here and let them keep it!" Even as he spoke, the green mech was edging towards the exit doorway, Bumblebee whirring in enthusiastic agreement with the plan. Switchshade stared at them in disbelief, do they not realize…?, but it was Ratchet who proceeded to quickly point out the one glaring flaw in said plan. "Evacuation is not an option. If we don't get the groundbridge back online stat, Optimus, Cliffjumper, and Arcee will perish."
The severity of the situation finally began to settle upon the two remaining mechs, as well as the three humans, and Jack's eyes went wide with fear for his guardian/s abruptly. "They-will?" he asked desperately, shocked and horrified at the thought. Miko, for her part, channeled her fear to anger (as, Switchshade suspected, was her wont), and stalked over to Bulkhead, planting her tiny fists on her hips and fixing the Wrecker with a glare. "Bulkhead! You never run!"
"Miko, you haven't seen a swarm of these things devour a 'Bot. I have… They pick you apart from the inside out, going for the small, juicy bits first. Fuse by fuse, circuit by circuit, 'till there's nothing left, and I mean nothing! Not even your optics…" The humans looked properly cowed by this, as the understanding of the danger the mechs were in finally began to dawn on them, but Switchshade pondered Bulkhead's words with a darker spin. Torn apart from the inside out… It would be little more than I deserve, for all that has happened due to my failure…
He shook himself firmly from these thoughts, shaking his helm as well for good measure. This will do nothing constructive now. There will be time for blame later. For now, I must do all that I can to help Ratchet get Optimus, Cliffjumper, and Arcee back safely. The scraplets must be destroyed.
It would seem Jack was thinking along similar lines, for he stepped forward when Bulkhead finished, immediately declaring, "You have to let us help." Rafael nodded in agreement. "We're not made of metal." Miko joined in as well, a tiny spark of hope in her eyes that spread like wildfire amongst the three humans. "Yeah! The scraplets can't hurt us!"
Ratchet eyed them in contemplation. "Typically, I find your fleshiness to be your least engaging quality… but, it would appear to provide an advantage under these extremes." The admission seemed as though it cost the medic a great deal, although Switchshade knew even from his brief time among the Autobots that Ratchet had grown deeply fond of the humans, even going so far as to count them among his own, to be protected.
"Okay, good." Jack nodded once, decisively, and in that instant, a glimpse showed through the skinny 16-year-old boy of the wise leader he might one day become. The moment was lost a klik later, however, when he continued. "So, we pair off-one 'Bot, one human. I'll watch your back while you repair the groundbridge." Switchshade shifted closer to Ratchet as Jack spoke, silently declaring his intent to remain with the medic as he worked, and none amongst them disputed it.
"And we go on a bug hunt." Miko declared, gesturing at Bulkhead, and herself, and then Bumblebee and Raf contentedly. The Wrecker in question shuddered in primal fear, and the scout beside him looked little better. The humans and 'Bots paired off as suggested, and so began the scraplet hunt.