Same Side

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AN: I will write another Transformers fanfi...er, novel. Seriously, look at the size of this thing. It's not really a sequel, since it won't be a crossover. Yes, I know this story will 'seem' incomplete, but I can't just let it end with the destruction of all of Earth's enemies! Where would the alliance be? WOULD there be one?

So...it'll be about the Twins, or focus on Ironhide. Since there's fewer stories about the former, I'm tempted to write them, but it's so gosh darned hard to ignore Ironhide's awesomeness.

One more chapter left. Besides this one.

Chapter Twenty-Five: Untrailbreakable

-

There was a quietness in the Compound that reflected the previous day's events. The cleanup went as smoothly as if it were in the wake of a celebration rather than a trial of disaster. Nobody wanted to admit it, but they had been unprepared for the worst and now that it was over, no one knew who to blame or turn to for advice. Airmen looked to their ranking officers, lab techs looked to their mentors and the Autobots looked to Optimus Prime for direction. Lennox had only himself to look to. Every tragedy they had felt and faced until now seemed almost trivial in comparison to the victory of today.

Many of the Wraith darts had turned kamikaze when their hive ship was destroyed. The ones that tried to flee were hunted down by highly trained pilots in F-302 fighters. If any managed to escape alive, they were off the monitor and likely would remain so until they became problems in the future. It was crass in retrospect, but to Lennox, they were someone else's problems. Right now, he had a bunch of boys to take care of and an alliance to partake in.

But first, he had a meeting with someone important in the Autobot residence. It had to do with Trailbreaker and the rest of the inactive alien nanites. Even though the immediate threat was gone, the aftermath was thick with the metaphorical flies buzzing around the decaying masses of their loss. Something had to be done.

Eighteen men and women had died during the attack on the Compound and twelve more were in serious condition. At least three dozen others had suffered non-threatening injuries and were assisting with the recovery of their alliance's base. Only three humans, aside from Ronon, had been reported to turn against their allies and only one soldier, a young woman by the name of Second Lieutenant Mackenzie Loyals had been spared a tragic fate; her commanding officer had put two bullets into each of her legs to stop her from strangling a fellow airman and thus saved her life. Major Oaks and Private First Class Garrick had not been as fortunate.

Everyone worked through the night and by six hundred hours the next morning, a shade of normalcy had returned to the top secret base. Lennox hadn't slept in over thirty-two hours and had to resort to a stimulant just to stay walking upright as he entered the CAR, taking in the scene before him with stoic reproach.

Ratchet had been neglecting his own state of injury in order to tend to the much more beat-up Mudflap, which was unsurprising considering his nature. Even though he had only one arm to work with, the red Twin had sustained plenty of damage during his fight with the Decepticon brothers in Smoke Hill and even more when Optimus had turned on him during his infection with Replicators. None of the Autobots were in danger of losing their spark, but when the commander of the Autobots had crushed Mudflap's one arm, he had made it next to impossible for the twin to transform successfully and thus made it much harder to recharge after an Energon boost. This is precisely what Lennox saw when he stepped into the large hangar, lit only by the few intact overhead lights and the glow of the rising sun.

Trailbreaker's body had been set aside from the wreckage of Vortex, now covered in a pale green tarp and surrounded by six very alert marines. The blue Autobot had not gone into stasis lock when his energy reserves were depleted. There was no spark in his chest. There had not been a spark in his body since his destruction on Cybertron. As such, there was no telling if the inert Replicators that held his parts together would ever revive him. The United States military and I.O.A. were not even close to allowing the nanites a chance to do just that. Under those circumstances, there was nothing any of the Autobots could do to change the collective minds of the most influential members of their human allies.

Major Lennox wanted to help in any way he could. He saw to it that Dr. McKay received the best medical attention in the entire Compound, and now he felt he needed to check in with the other half of his tri-cornered alliance. Optimus looked as though he had just finished a conversation with Sam Witwicky when the NEST leader approached him.

"Major," said the towering Autobot, turning appraising optics on him as he tured around. "I had thought you would be resting by now. After all, relying solely on artificial stimulants is dangerous to your health."

A war had just come and gone, and he was being lectured by one of the biggest alien robots he had even had the pleasure of befriending. Lennox couldn't help but grin, despite his physical fatigue. "Tell you what, big guy...I'll worry about what my body can handle and you worry about getting your guys back into shape. There's still lots of Decepticons out there, not to mention a lot of other aliens that want to dominate planet Earth."

"How is Dr. McKay? I heard his medical procedure went well," Optimus went on, turning his attention to his own medical officer and his loudly complaining patient.

"You're doing the small talk thing again. Bad habits are bad habits, Optimus, even for you. But the doc's just fine. Sheppard would be tearing what's left of the Compound down around us if he wasn't. Ronon, on the other hand, has to wait a few days before he's completely Replicator-free. It's one thing to stick someone with an electric needle and reprogram a bunch of microscopic termites, and another to wash the little buggers out of your bloodstream with pure adrenaline."

"One more reason I'm glad I'm microscopic termite free," Sam mentioned, looking just as weary and beaten as the major felt. "Not to mention the Allspark stuff in my head quieted down again. I never thought I'd say this, but I'm really looking forward to going back to class tomorrow."

"That reminds me, Sam," said the Prime, averting his attention to the eighteen-year-old. "I have decided to include two more Autobots in your protection for the time being. Megatron is still out there, and willing to try anything to break our morale."

Sam's face blanched several shades lighter and his eyes widened slightly. Clutching his hands together, he blinked up at the much, much taller Optimus and said, "Oh...'kay...um, y'know, Optimus, Bee's doing just great at his job. I mean, I'm grateful, obviously, but..."

The Autobot leader shook his great head. "The decision is final, Sam. Starting tomorrow, the Twins will be acting as additional scouts for potential Decepticon threats in your school's city. It is time I put my trust in their abilities, just as I have put my trust in you."

"Tha's right, princess," Skids quipped from the other side of the hangar. "S'bout time da Twins got all up'n personal with Decepticronies. Ain't that right, Mudflap?" He bumped a metal fist to the half-repaired one of his red twin, irking Ratchet to the point where the medical officer turned his welding laser on the more talkative Autobot. "Ow!" cried Skids, shaking the offended arm. "Cut dat out!"

"A mistake if I ever heard one," Ironhide muttered, picking up yet another piece of Wraith dart and tossing it into the growing pile of scrap. "Who needs the Decepticons when those two miscreants are in charge of keeping the Allspark's knowledge safe?"

"Thanks, Ironhide." Sam narrowed his eyes at the black Autobot. "I'm extremely moved by your concern for my safety."

Lennox listened and observed for a minute or two more, finally accepting that despite the gloom in the air, the mood in the CAR was returning to normal. He could rely on Optimus to make sure they were prepared for the next onslaught of chaos. It was a miracle there had been so few casualties during the past week's untamed madness; not that the current count of lost comrades wasn't hard to swallow, but considering the intricacy of their enemy's plan, they had suffered far less than what he had expected. He'd warmed up to Trailbreaker's sarcastic antics, but in the end, he had to think ahead to their next problem and leave the mourning to those who had known him best.

By the time he reached Compound 1, the stimulant he'd taken was starting to wear off. He almost ran right into Sheppard as his worn-out expression betrayed the depth of his thoughts to his fellow Compound Alliance leader. Colonel Sheppard put a hand on Lennox's shoulder to steady him and raised an eyebrow.

"That look's not good for you, Major," he said. "Seriously, you're as bad as McKay. Get some sleep; I can handle whatever gets throw our way for the next eight hours or so."

"Right, and what about you? Nice try, Sheppard. I've gone three days before without catching a cat nap. Now is no different. I'm still waiting for the other shoe to drop."

"You too, huh?" Now in a fresh change of clothing, the colonel stood with his hands buried in his pockets, looking oddly serious. "I just had a chat with Todd. Looks like he's willing to help us track down the hybrids and wipe them out in exchange for a comfy room with a nice view. I gotta say, I'm kind of surprised he's willing to starve himself to death when he could have easily grabbed one of the darts and made a break for it."

"From what I've heard, that alien is just about as old, or even older than Optimus Prime," said Lennox. "You may have some weird, creepy trust thing going on with him, but I'll take my chances with shooting blindly into the dark rather than trust his agenda."

"Yeah." Sheppard squinted at him a little. "We'll talk about it later."

"Galloway's on his way here," Lennox went on, as they fell into stride together, crossing the debris field that was the building's floor towards the Stargate. "I already set up a date for him and General O'Neill. Last thing Optimus needs is a bald thorn like him in his side."

"Nice move. The general's not a big fan of bureaucrats."

-

Teyla stood above Rodney's bed, trying to think of brighter things as she looked down upon her friend's sleeping face. In the care of these doctors, his health had improved greatly over the past nine hours. Over the past five years, she had many opportunities to feel proud of the scientist she held dearly in her heart, which reflected her feelings right now. If it had not been for his strained efforts, she and several others would likely be dead at the hands of allies forcibly turned against their comrades.

McKay's face twitched a little and his head stirred from side to side. "Jennifer...?" he slurred, cracking his eyes open. It took a few seconds before he made sense of the face looming over him. "Oh, Teyla...hi."

"Hello, Rodney," she said with a wide smile.

The astrophysicist's attention glanced back and forth. "This is familiar...wasn't I here just a few days ago...?"

"Yes, Rodney." Now she chuckled. "Do not worry. The Wraith are gone and the Decepticons will not return for a long time. You can rest for as long as you need."

He snorted weakly and closed his eyes for a moment. "Fat chance," he muttered. "Ugh...my body feels like it got fed on by a Wraith. Not that I'd...know what that's like...oh God," he said, his eyes snapping open again. "Did I get fed on? Be honest, Teyla. I really need your honesty right now."

"No." Teyla sighed. "You are as young, and as...questionably healthy as ever."

"Oh, thanks." A second or two later, he exhaled long and slowly. "Sorry, Teyla...I'm kinda...tired right now. Mind if I...just..." And then he was out again, looking far more peaceful than he had before he woke up. Teyla reached down and gave her friend's hand a gentle squeeze before turning away.

Major Lorne was waiting for her outside the medical ward, a P90 tucked under one arm and a gentle look on his face. "We're about to head to the alpha site now," he told her. "You know, you don't have to come with us, Teyla. These aren't the same hybrids that Michael was controlling back in the Pegasus galaxy."

She smiled at him, deeply appreciating his kind words. Even though they likely made sense to him, they lacked conviction. Their enemies were hybrids, and as such were partly her responsibility. Even if they were not, she was a part of Earth's defense now and she had long ago accepted her role as a protector—and now, an aggresor. "Thank you," she replied, dipping her head slightly. "Allow me to gather my things, and I will be as ready as you are."

There was still so much work left to do.

-

Ratchet finished welding the last of the fibers in Mudflap's right arm, finalizing the reattachment of the twin's lost appendage with a silent sigh of relief. It had been a difficult procedure with only one arm, but the young one's brother had been only too willing to provide the assistance he need to make up for his lack of coordination. The hole in the medical officer's own body would take a great deal longer to repair, and he may even have to resort to allowing Optimus to do most of the patching up.

That was an issue for another day, however. Ratchet dismissed the Twins, finding himself alone inside the residence aside from Optimus. After the younger Autobots vanished through the warped entrance to the hangar, the old mech stretched out his good arm and slowly approached the place where they had laid Trailbreaker down and covered him. The soldiers guarding the cadaver of his fallen comrade paid him no heed; their duty was to keep an eye out for suspicious activity and react in an appropriate manner—this was far from such. Ratchet simply intended to give his respects and examine the remains a little closer.

Optimus had noticed his behaviour and joined him, just as the medical officer lifted the tarp and leaned over Trailbreaker's sparkless form. They were silent together.

"Even at my age, I still believed there was such thing as a miracle," Ratchet said at last, as his scans showed him the same results as they had the past seven attempts to analyze the blue one's composition. "I saw with my own optics what became of him on Cybertron. Perhaps if we had treated him with suspicion from the very beginning, he would still be with us."

"Trailbreaker pushed himself beyond his limits in order to protect the human race. And his fellow Autobots," Optimus assured him. "Right until the very end, he felt more concern for the safety of this planet than himself. The fact that he performed all this without ever having a spark only speaks for the simple truth: it is not what we are made of that makes us who we are. It is what we do that counts."

A few seconds of reflection passed. Then one of the soldiers who had been standing on guard, a young marine Optimus did not recognize by name, stepped forward. "Sir!"

Surprised, the leader of the Autobots took a step back to view the much smaller human with a flicker of curiosity behind his impervious mask. "Yes, Lieutenant?"

Straight-faced and bold, the marine stood at attention and saluted briskly. He then reached around his neck with poised authority and removed what appeared to be one of two beaded chains with a metal tag attached to it. With determined eyes, the lieutenant held the trinket in front of him as though it were the most valuable thing in the room. "For what it's worth, sir. Every last one of us decided it would be appropriate to have this made in his honor, sir. You see, Trailbreaker wanted one of his own. He saw it on television. Sir, we thought he might like to have it now, with your permission."

Rarely Optimus felt speechless, but this type of honest openness triggered something nostalgic in his spark. He recognized the importance of the ornaments the members of the humans' military proudly adorned; the pewter-hued plate dangling on the fragile chain was etched with their name, identifying them and symbolizing their commitment. He also knew it was customary to remove these medallions from the dead in order to commemorate them. Silently, he lowered his hand to the soldier's level and allowed him to drape the chain around his smallest finger.

"Thank you," said Optimus gravely, with genuine gratitude. "I know he would deeply appreciate this gesture, Lieutenant." Not much more could be said, and it seemed to please the young marine to know that their offering meant something. He stepped back into line and stood erect, swallowing an obvious lump in his throat.

"You are right, Prime," Ratchet told him in a silent relay of their own language. He looked at his commander cradling the extremely tiny chain in the center of his hand. "The human race is full of surprises. I believe even Storm Jet realized what you and I know now, and that is why he gave his spark to save this planet from destruction."

"He did not want me to make the same mistakes he made with the Replicators," Optimus responded. The six marines were busy pulling the tarp back over Trailbreaker, with an unsurprising amount of respectful ceremony. "Sixshot, Gamble, Sharpshot and Vortex were dragged deliberately into his schemes. He lured many Decepticons to their doom. He may have even brought Starscream's tyranny to an end. I have never been this proud of my mentor than I am now."

"No sacrifice, no victory." Ratchet turned away to begin his task of self-repair. He transmitted an almost wistful conclusion to their conversation, "And what a victory it was."

-

TBC (one last time)