Consequences
Part 25-Condemnation
Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers. They belong to Hasbro and Takara. I am merely taking them for a short spin.
"I've taken my beating, I've shared what I made
I'm strong on the surface, not all the way through
I've never been perfect, but neither have you"
--Leave Out All the Rest, Linkin Park
The sealing ring on the cooling conduit wouldn't give. A few swear words in Cybertronian were swiftly replaced by the sound of a wrench being slammed repeatedly against the conduit.
"Fraggin' piece of slag. . ."
The Autobot suddenly found his right arm in a death grip as a hand shot out from around him, stopping him from inflicting further damage to the conduit.
"Tracks, that ain't gonna solve anything," Blaster said.
"The Pit it won't," Tracks said. "Makes me feel better. If this whole fraggin' ship blew up right now with me on it, I really wouldn't care."
Blaster frowned. "I know you don't mean that," he said.
"Don't I?" Tracks said, pulling his arm away from Blaster. "You're not going to have to be the one who has to explain everything when we make planet fall. . ."
"You're not alone in this," Blaster said.
"No, but I'm in charge," Tracks said, turning back to his work.
Blaster stepped away, started to walk down the corridor. He didn't get far when he stopped, looked back over his shoulder, giving Tracks one last look before continuing on his way to the ship's command center. He shook his head sadly, kept going.
Tracks felt Blaster's gaze lingering but he didn't say anything. He knew the communications expert thought he was losing his grip. Maybe he was, but with so much responsibility on his shoulders, it sometimes felt like it, and never more so than the past few days.
The Vindicator wasn't quite on its last legs, but almost. They were lucky to pick up the distress call, as faint as it was. Tracks had been ousted from his berth by Blaster, who had actually come down to his quarters to get him. It was so he wouldn't raise suspicion among the others. Sure, yeah, whatever.
The panic and fear in Blaster's optics as he told him over his internal comm who the signal was from nearly brought him to his knees.
It was a small incident compared to being roused from stasis from Optimus Prime's message, but disturbing nonetheless, especially when Blaster started talking about ghosts, earning himself a good smack to the head.
No, the distress signal wasn't from ghosts, but mechs who might as well have been. They'd detoured from their course to Earth, deciding it was worth checking out, just in case it wasn't a sensor. . .ghost, or just a signal beacon.
Good thing they had detoured--they'd found survivors from the Vector. Not all of them, but Blurr, Hound, Mirage and Red Alert, all in their cometary forms, all sporting damage.
Blurr still wasn't talking to anyone, not good, but he was now helping out around the ship. Mirage was still half-mad with grief over Hound's condition, but they'd finally managed to get his attention, snapped him out of it a little. Red Alert, on the other hand, was retreating further and further inside himself, spending most of his time in recharge, curled on one of the berths in the med bay. Even Inferno had given up trying to talk to him.
Energon and decent recharge seemed to be helping Blurr and Mirage, but when asked about how they happened to end up in the condition they were in, Blurr simply left the room and Mirage clammed up, staring at the floor. Hound was still in stasis lock, but at least they could monitor his condition in the med bay.
Tracks gave the uncooperative conduit another satisfying whack. The med bay. Another problem. They didn't have a trained medic on board, and none of them were equipped to deal with the trauma their friends were going through.
Yet another problem was tension among the crew (if it could be called that)--Scattershot was generally driving him insane, Roadbuster kept wanting to use Scattershot to align the ship's ailing targeting systems and by the Allspark if Knockout and Sandstorm so much as mentioned going to look for Arcee again, he would kill them both, preferably with the wrench in his hand.
Arcee, as far as Tracks was concerned, was the only one of them that had any sense--she'd gotten so tired of her cohorts' antics since coming out of stasis she was avoiding them all.
Not that he could blame her. They all wanted off the Vindicator, and the sooner, the better. It had seen better days but had been undergoing a refit to have the Ark-class AI installed before Tyger Pax. However, the refit hadn't been finished, the AI was onboard but dormant because none of them had the ability to uplink with the ship to force it online. Blaster could link up with the main computer, could do routine maintenance on the systems but anything beyond that was impossible.
And things kept getting better and better. Since picking up the Vector's crew, he'd been trying to figure out how to get them to talk, and to learn the fates of Ultra Magnus, Hot Rod and Cosmos.
An even bigger problem was the knowledge they were being followed--hunted actually. They'd picked up a short burst of Decepticon communications two days before, but nothing since. They could fight, if necessary, but so far, they'd been lucky.
Then there were his own disagreements with Blaster. He kept talking about separating the ship to lose unnecessary weight and get them to Earth sooner, but it would mean losing the ship's cloak and the med bay. That particular old argument had been what snapped Mirage out of his lethargy--he'd threatened to kill Tracks if they even mentioned it again. Not Blaster, who suggested it, but him. Because he, Tracks, was in charge. Speaking of killing anyone, if he ever found out who nominated him for the position of leader. . .
Tracks pushed it from his mind. He was tired, beyond tired actually. He set down the wrench, not caring. It would be there later. He vented air, sighing, making his way down the corridor. He'd been this way so many times he could probably make his way to this particular door without his optics or other sensors. He keyed in the code, entered.
He saw Blaster sit up on his berth.
"What's wrong?" he asked.
"Nothing," Tracks said. "Scoot over."
Blaster did as told, waited for Tracks to settle in next to him. Satisfied, Tracks threw an arm over Blaster and pulled him close. Despite their differences, they still had each other.
-----
Blurr sat at the navigation console, silent. His thoughts were racing, as usual. He hadn't spoken out loud since they'd been picked up by the Vindicator and her crew. He didn't mind the night watch--it allowed him to be alone. Uncharacteristic, but currently necessary. If he spent time with more than a few bots a time he felt jumpy. Paranoid. Not like himself at all.
He knew the Vector's crew had been sold out. Hound's condition, Cosmos' absence, his injuries, it all made him angry. They'd known what their mission was because Magnus had filled them in. Even though Blurr didn't agree with the method, he knew it was necessary. They'd volunteered, so there was no one but themselves to blame. Except no one had told them about the Decepticon abomination they'd encountered. The thing was called Menasaur. One of the reasons why he wasn't talking. Because he wouldn't talk about what they'd seen, what had happened.
He jumped when he felt a hand on his shoulder. Blurr looked up. It was Mirage. He held out a container of energon.
:Here. You look like you could use this:
:ThanksIreallycouldanditsgoodtoseeyoureoutandabouthowsHoundishebetter. . .:
:SLOW DOWN: Mirage said, sitting down at the station by Blurr. :Would it kill you to talk out loud?:
:Don't want to talk out loud. Feels weird after all that time out there: Blurr said.
:I know. But at least we're alive, and we stand a chance now. And to answer your question, some of Hound's automatic repair systems are finally starting to kick in. Blaster figured out how to make the computer listen, so it's jumpstarted Hound, although none of us know how long it will be before he comes out of stasis lock:
:But he will right?:
:He should:
:He will: Blurr said with more optimism than he felt. He met Mirage's optics, and the spy was smiling back at him. Tentative, and full of hope.
:Then I can kick his aft for scaring me like this. Blurr, I really thought this was it. When we first onlined after they picked us up. . .I couldn't feel Hound. I thought he was gone. But when I calmed down, I realized he's still there. Faint, but still there:
Mirage shuddered at the memory, and Blurr reached out, placing a hand on Mirage's shoulder. Waking up, frantic and panicked, not knowing where he was, and worst of all, he couldn't feel Hound, then he saw him laying on the med bay berth, realizing they were safe. And through his bond with the scout, Mirage could still feel Hound's presence, but nothing would rouse him. That was when he knew he was in stasis lock.
:But like you said he's going to be OK and we're safe for the moment and oh slag. . .:
:What?: Mirage asked.
:Just thinking:
:About?:
:Nothing: Blurr said.
Mirage let it slide. :I'm going to go check on Hound and Red. I'll be back up later:
Blurr nodded, turning back to his station. Nothing. Sure. He missed his friends, missed home, wanted to be off the ship to run free and race. He offlined his optics for a few seconds, trying to focus. Onlined them, took a sip of energon, got back down to the business of plotting possible courses to Earth while anticipating possible Decepticon incursions along the way.
What would happen would happen, Blurr knew. And he was just along for the ride.
-----
Optimus stood in front of Hot Rod's cell, watching the younger mech in recharge. Only a few short hours until the beginning of the inquiry and so much to say. . .but he pushed it from his thoughts, turned to walk away.
"Whatever you have to say, say it and leave," Hot Rod said.
Optimus turned back around to find Hot Rod sitting up on the side of the berth.
"How. . ."
"I can always tell when you're near," Hot Rod said. "You have this annoying tendency to hover when you don't want to say whatever it is you're going to say."
Optimus offlined his optics in surprise, onlined them. "I only wanted. . ."
"What?" Hot Rod said, getting annoyed.
"I did what I did out of duty."
"What?" Hot Rod asked.
"Not the inquiry. . .you know what I'm talking about," Optimus said. "At least you should. . .the bond did save your life, but now, I am not so sure."
"That's how you justify the bond between us?" Hot Rod said, surprisingly calm. "A sense of duty? What makes me different from anything else? I don't want your pity. . .you knew all along what I wanted. And you can't deny it."
Optimus couldn't meet his gaze.
"You can take your sense of duty and. . ." Hot Rod said. "Keep trying to convince yourself, Optimus, because you wanted it as much as I did. I know you keep trying to deny it. Good luck convincing yourself otherwise, because no one else believes it, either. Come find me when you feel like you can finally be honest with yourself."
-----
0730. Not much time left, Hot Rod reflected. Not that it really mattered. It had been a hell of a night, and the day promised to come off just as well. Given Springer's state of emotion, Hot Rod knew he was right. The triple changer was standing, watching, not really knowing what to say until he finally opened his mouth.
"This is bad," Springer said. "You have no idea. . ."
Hot Rod looked up.
"I have a pretty good idea," he said.
"Has he spoken to you?" Springer asked.
"Yes, but not about the inquiry."
"Why not?"
"Would you? It's called a conflict of interest," Hot Rod said.
Springer let it slide.
"They're talking confinement. . .or worse."
"I'll die before I go through that again," Hot Rod said.
"You'd take him with you?"
Again, Hot Rod didn't answer.
"Hot Rod, it's not like you have a lot of choice," Springer said.
"There is always a choice," Hot Rod answered.
"Is there anything I can do?" Springer asked.
"No," Hot Rod said, settling back on the berth.
-----
Only a few minutes. Optimus knew he had to act quickly, try to set things right between them. He'd been so damn stubborn. . .
Hot Rod looked up from where he was sitting on the berth as Optimus entered the access code, walked in side. The Autobot leader knelt down on one knee, bringing himself down on a level with Hot Rod, placing his hands on his shoulders.
"You shouldn't be here," Hot Rod said.
"This is exactly where I should be right now," Optimus said. "I've had much to think about, and I want you to be honest. What is it you're not telling me?"
"It's not that. . .I can't tell you," Hot Rod said.
"Can't, or won't?"
Hot Rod sighed.
Optimus changed tactics. He opened himself to Hot Rod through their bond.
We don't have much time. Optimus said.
I know, Hot Rod answered.
I'm sorry.
This isn't your fault.
It is. I could not stop it all those years ago. . .
Don't blame yourself, Optimus.
Hot Rod put his hands around Optimus' wrists, leaning forward until they were helm to helm.
You know things about me I've never shared with anyone else, not even Kup or Springer. I know those things you said last night--I know you didn't mean them. You don't think you deserve such trust, but you do. And when you bonded with me, you saved me. I trust you and more. You know that. And now, I'm asking you to trust me. I never betrayed anyone. But Magnus. . .he did betray your trust. . .I can't answer for him on that, but I can tell you in the end, he did try and make up for it the best he could. I can't say anything more than that. Please, believe me. And trust me.
I do trust you, Optimus said. I doubted you. . .and for that, I am sorry. It was myself I did not trust. Please. . .I hope it isn't too late. . .please. . .
Forgive you? Nothing to forgive as far as I'm concerned. . .although Ironhide. . .
Will be dealt with, I can assure you. That much I can do, but the inquiry. . .
You can't stop it , and I wouldn't ask you to. I told Kup as much last night. I'd do the same if I was in Ironhide's place.
How can you be so calm? And why aren't you angry with me, at circumstances?
I was angry at you. But I stopped being angry over everything else a long time ago. . .
Hot Rod stopped, Optimus stood.
Prowl stood at the cell door, flanked by Sideswipe and Sunstreaker. It was time.
-----
Prowl, Ratchet and Trailbreaker faced him. They were sitting, he was left standing.
Ratchet spoke first.
"Autobot Hot Rod, you stand accused of treason. How do you plead?"
"This is a travesty," Hot Rod said. "And you know it."
Ratchet continued.
"Do you have anything to say for yourself?"
Hot Rod stood silent.
"The evidence against you will be weighed, and your fate decided."