Duty and Deceit
Chapter 36
Rude Awakenings
She watched the jets and Seekers flying their intricate formations with perfect precision. Not a single flier was even a micron out of sync. The clouds parted around them, stretching back in articulate swirls and spirals in their wake.
It was a habit of hers, watching the fliers. They had such freedom up there. Nothing to bind them to one place, the whole world was in their reach. Her very spark and Energon sang with longing. She wanted to join them.
Most grounders like herself, despised heights, feared them even. Whenever the choice was travel by land or air, they would always choose land, even when air would be safer - logically anyhow. Grounders stayed grounded. Flying was for the birds.
This is what she told herself every time she watched them fly, or every time her shoulder-wheels spun in their sockets to shake off the itch of wing-bind. Her wheels would tingle whenever she saw the sky. As if they could somehow carry her through the clouds. She would try to convince herself that she didn't actually wish she could fly. Flying was for the birds.
But the little Prussian blue and black spy had never been like most grounders. She was a grounder in frame, but a flier at spark. Love of the wide sky was buried deep in her core programming. And it hurt. She wanted so bad to fly that it hurt.
Her sire had been a battle-class jet. She'd always wanted to be a jet, or a Seeker at least, but Vector Sigma had rarely given a Protihexian a spark able to sustain such large frames. Thus, Protihexians were known as the little people. They just didn't get big.
In spite of this, her parents had given her the flier's programming. Which made sense through a parent's optics. Fear of heights was one of the grounders' biggest weaknesses. The flier's programming all but eliminated that weakness.
/Terabyte!/ Skyquake sent, breaking her musing. /Still online down there?/
She shook her helm slightly to bring herself back to the present, /Yes, why?/
/Checked your comm. logs recently?/
Oh. Whoops. He'd been trying to talk to her for nearly half a groon. And she hadn't even noticed. Sheepishly, she responded, /Sorry... I was just thinking./
Above her the fleet dipped down into a spiraling dive in perfect unison before shooting off at the last moment, each flier in a different direction. The sonic boom and the roar of engines shook the little femme on her pedes.
Moments later, the olive jet transformed mid-air, landing with a light thump a few meters away from her. Walking towards her, he laughed. "What about? It must have been deep."
"Not really. Just..." She shrugged her shoulder wheels, "Flying."
"You want to, don't you." He stated softly, gazing up at the perfect clear skies. "It's in your optics."
Shuttering her optics briefly, the femme sighed bitterly, "But I can't. And I never will."
"Maybe I can help with that..." The jet said, grinning at her, a mischievous twinkle in his ruby optics.
She shook her black helm gently, her finials tilted at a depressed angle. "It isn't physically possible. My spark can't take the weight of a flier's frame. I asked Alpha Trion when he upgraded me three vorns ago."
His ruby optics went wide for a moment, his jaw hanging partially agape. "You're only three vorns past youngling?"
The spy's lips pulled into an 'o' behind her mask, which was only up because they were outside in public. Very public, public. And technically, she was supposed to be still in her last youngling frame. Not to mention after final youngling frame, she technically still had two femme-ling frames before adult. Traditionally, she still had at least eleven vorns until she would be considered ready for her final upgrade to an adult frame.
Yet here she was.
He wasn't incredibly old himself, but he'd at least been upgraded at the normal age... Compared to him, she was just a kid, a whiny little kid with emotional issues. She wondered how he would take that. How much that would change things. After all, he basically just discovered that his best friend was a sparkling.
"I- I thought I'd already told you that..." She winced at how pitiful she sounded, her voice cracking slightly. Her shoulder wheels slumped.
"No..." He trailed off before a horrified expression crossed his faceplates as he no doubt guessed what was going through her mind. "I mean... no. I don't care, Tera. And you shouldn't take some old Autobot bolt-helm's word for fact. You can and will fly... Today."
Skyquake transformed into his jet-mode and rolled forward a little bit. She just stared at him, not sure what in the world he was doing.
"Well?" He rumbled promptingly, "Get on!"
Still confused, the spy did as asked, just barely getting settled and feeling a little bit strange. Before she could really piece it all together, his engines roared as he lifted off, slicing through the air like a solar hawk.
She screamed, hanging on for her life as they ascended faster than her unpracticed processors could calculate. She'd never gone so fast, or high... It was terrifying. It was amazing! Once the shock dissipated a little, she dared to sit up, hanging on only with her pedes.
Whooping, screaming, and laughing, the little femme raised her hands up in the air, feeling the sharp, cold breeze rushing around her, through her. Her spark was quivering with joy and excitement.
She could fly!
Her processors whirred to life, battle protocols spinning instantly into action. She was on her feet, fists swinging, fusion cannon charging up, before all of her systems were even really online.
Blood red optics came online to reveal her cannon pressed into Skyquake's chest, Cliffjumper staggering nearby with a dent in his helm the size of her fist. Her vents heaved as she contemplated whether or not to kill them both. Voice said no: friends. Processors said yes: Autobots.
Audials came on to register Cliffjumper shouting, "Ratchet! Get us a sedative or something, now!"
Skyquake was saying calming words, which she chose to ignore lest they persuade her. Shoving away from the green jet, she snarled and leapt towards Cliffjumper. He was why she was here right now with a killer helm-ache.
Her red energy dagger shot out of her right arm as she swung at his spark. The Autobot reflexively lashed out in an offensive block, his arm hitting the flat of her blade. The force of her blow combined with his block caused the dagger to snap, shattering deep in her forearm, making Terabyte let out an audial-rending shriek of pain.
She wasn't even entirely sure why she was fighting. She'd gone offline with her battle protocols online, so when she woke up they were still online, urging her to fight. She didn't really have much of a reason to be fighting, but she was on their base, surrounded by the murderers. It was kill-or-be-killed and her processors were in no hurry to figure out why.
Nevertheless, as life-En ran down her dagger-arm, dripping from the tips of her servos, the little spy would not allow herself to be captured again. She would not fall prey to the Autobots.
Staggering back, her arm screaming pain, error messages flashing on her HUD declaring a breached primary power line, Terabyte gritted her fanged denta in determination. She ran full-speed towards Cliffjumper in a collision course, throwing her frame to the floor at the last moment, sliding between his pedes to kick him sharply behind the knees.
The mech whirled too late, slamming to the ground as his pedes were knocked out of underneath him. Leaping to her own feet, Terabyte sprung into the air to land hard on his dorsal plates as he was beginning to rise, smashing him face-first into the cement floor. Using her current momentum to shove off him, the tiny femme shot the medic in the foot as he hurried to get close to her with the sedative.
"Skyquake!" The red mech roared from behind her, "Do something!"
Ratchet bit back a string of insults, dodging her shot by a few inches, and tripping in the process.
But Terabyte didn't even slow for an astrosecond. Running straight towards the medic, she threw herself down into a roll, dodging several blasts from the red and white medic's stun gun. The electrical pulse from those things was nasty. But she was not going to be sedated. And that meant taking the medic out of the picture.
Rising swiftly, she leapt up, her fist swinging towards the mech's faceplate in a heavy punch, weighted with her whole frame. Her steel gray fist smashed into his face with a resounding clang.
The medic just gave her a flat stare. "Nice try, femme-bot."
The black and midnight blue femme glanced down at the steel gray armor of her upper arm. Protruding from the small gap between armor plates was a syringe. An empty syringe. She felt her processor functions getting steadily slower, her whole frame relaxing against her will.
She gave a weak, loopy giggle. That was a strong sedative. Most sedatives hardly affected her. By how she felt, it must've been enough to knock out the Lord Protector.
Her vision was getting kind of blurry... Huh. Last she checked Ratchet hadn't been pink and chartreuse... That was a weird paint-job. Very subtle.
Skyquake watched as all the tension in her frame just melted instantly, her pedes slipping from under her, leaving the well-and-truly passed-out femme laying on her side in a heap on the floor at Ratchet's feet.
Glaring at the medic, the jet was at Terabyte's side in moments, kneeling beside her to examine her injured arm. Her energy blade had shattered inside her arm, the shards slicing through primary energy lines and wiring, shredding into the protoform.
"How much of that stuff did you give her?!" Skyquake growled as he noticed just how dim her bio-lights had gone. He'd never seen them so dim. Even when she was recharging or in stasis, her bio-lights glowed a little. Now it was as though they'd shut down completely.
"Enough to knock the fight out of her for a good week or so, hopefully." Ratchet responded gruffly, scooping the femme up and lugging her off to the med-bay, Skyquake close at his heels.
"A week?!" The jet bellowed, slamming the med-bay door behind him. The action was closely followed by an angry, pained yelp. But Skyquake didn't really care. It wasn't like it was his fault Cliffjumper happened to be right there.
"She's a Protihexian two-wheeler! You can't just give her a normal mech's dosage! You can't even just give her a normal two-wheeler's dosage! What are you trying to do, kill her?!"
Ratchet set Terabyte down carefully before whirling around and smacking him upside the helm with a Cybertronian wrench. Multiple times. "You're right! I can't just give her a normal mech's dosage! It wouldn't be enough! I can't just give her a normal two-wheeler's dosage, 'cause that's twice the normal and it still wouldn't have been enough! Because she's a Protihexian two-wheeler!"
Cliffjumper walked in, rubbing his face-plate. Stepping right into their conversation, apparently unperturbed by the beating Skyquake had just gotten, the red mech said with a casual shrug, "You've known TB for how many vorns now? A dozen at least? You ought to know that by now. The smaller they are, the tougher they get."
He just glared at both of them. They were right. It was probably enough sedative to keep Megatron down for an orn. He snorted, "We'll be lucky if she's not up in a couple rotations."
"Precisely." Ratchet said huffily. The medic seemed upset that he didn't get to yell and thwack mechs for longer than he had. He seemed to have thoroughly enjoyed it. "Which'll hopefully give me long enough to figure out just how much Soundwave managed to screw up in that helm of hers."
Skyquake stood over Terabyte's inert frame, watching her with gentle optics. Her armor had relaxed completely to her frame, making her seem so small. Sure she usually stayed relaxed when she was with him and others weren't watching her, but still even he - after knowing her and spending almost every orn of five vorns with her - even he forgot so easily just how small she was. Even Skyquake had to be reminded that she stood only to his mid-riff.
Remembering the presence of others, and feeling their curious gazes, the fighter jet narrowed his optics, forcing a hard look into his ruby gaze.
"When will you begin, Medic?"
Said medic subspaced his wrench swiftly, staring down at his unconscious and leaking patient. By his expression, Ratchet too had just been painfully reminded of her size. It was even more of a shock so soon after the fight the little midnight colored femme had just put up.
"As soon as I can get her to stop leaking." Ratchet snapped, shooting the red mech responsible for her injuries a glare that made Cliffjumper wilt. Which was quite a feat in and of itself.
Cliffjumper wilted under the doc's withering gaze, his spark already plaguing him with remorse. He hadn't meant to shatter her blade half-way up her thin steel gray arm. In the heat of battle he'd not been thinking about her size, or how much force would be too much. Especially since, as Ratchet had said, she was by no stretch of the imagination weak.
He really hadn't wanted to hurt her. After all, he had already adopted her in his mind. She was the little sister he'd never had. At least never knew if he had. Shortly after he joined the Academy, the War began. His parents had jetted off with the neutrals. He hoped maybe one day he'd meet them again, but the way the war was going, that didn't seem too near in his future.
But the doc was right to be glaring at him just the way he was. And the hulking jet over there certainly had the right to be glaring at him like he was a dead glitch-mouse in the bottom of his Energon. Because that was about how he felt at the moment. Sure, the feisty little spy had knocked the wind from his vents, and jumped on his back, which now hurt like anything. But the femme that was now leaking in front of him had done little more than bruise his back and pride.
And she wasn't even in her right processors. Soundwave had messed around in there who-knows-how-much.
"Doc, this is my fault. I'll fix it. You get TB back in her right mind." Cliffjumper said solemnly.
The medic's optics burned bright with anger, armor puffed up and hands twitching for the wrench he'd just subspaced. Stomping up to him, Ratchet slammed an accusing finger into his chest-plate, yelling, "Oh, you don't know just how right you are, Cliffjumper! This," He waved a hand at the unconscious femme on the berth behind him, "This is definitely your fault. Stupid, unnecessary injuries, costing us resources we don't have! But what you don't get is just how badly you've hurt her! This isn't something you know how to fix!"
Just then, a large gray hand landed on each of their shoulders, flinging medic and red warrior apart with a low growl that rung in their audials for several klicks. "Enough!"
Having caught both Cliffjumper and Ratchet's attention, the green fighter jet snarled, "We all know this is his fault!"
Cliffjumper yet again wilted at the accusing servo thrust at him.
"So yelling at each other over how much it's his fault doesn't change that her life-En is now dripping onto the floor, because you're too busy stating the obvious to do anything about it!"
The red mech glanced at Ratchet before staring at the floor, which - as Skyquake had pointed out - was now damp with the life-En still flowing from her right arm. He was right. They were being childish. At Terabyte's expense. And they were wasting the precious time in which she was unconscious.
"Now if you'll excuse me," Skyquake hissed, his whole frame strung tight as he restrained an amount of anger that was visibly painful to keep in check. The jet's ruby gaze seemed to burn everything it touched, "I'm going to go slag your training arena before I'm unable to resist the urge to murder you both in ways neither of you perfect little Autobots could ever imagine."
And with that, Cliffjumper stared after the quickly retreating sound of pede-falls, sincerely hoping that the huge crashing sounds of breaking objects that accompanied his pede-falls wasn't anything too important. And he continued to stare for a good while. He'd honestly expected the jet to tear them to shreds before stomping off.
Without another word, Ratchet set to fixing the damage that he, Cliffjumper, had caused. The red Autobot meanwhile slid open a panel on his left wrist, making his way to the other side of Terabyte, gently unclasping the mini fusion cannon perched on her left forearm. Taking a moment to examine the intricate gold decorative attachments that matched her golden joints perfectly, Cliffjumper set it aside and slid open the panel on her wrist revealing a single dataport and a thin clear cord.
Unwinding his own cord, Cliffjumper glanced at Ratchet. "I'll start with this then, scout out the territory, if you will. Ah... You do realize that she'll rip our minds to shreds if she wakes up while we're in there right? Maybe this isn't such a great idea...?"
The medic huffed, continuing to wipe her life-En from the steel gray armor he'd taken from her wounded arm. Cliff waited for another breem, hoping for Ratchet to provide a solution. But the solution never came. All he got from Ratchet was a look that said, 'the only reason you're not dead is that Terabyte likes you and your presence might give us a chance'.
So with a deep breath, the red mech slipped his cord into the port on her wrist, mentally prepared to get creamed.
Instead of being greeted with a giant, overly complicated wall of code he'd never be able to figure out, Cliffjumper found himself standing - in a manner of speaking - on the inside of her firewalls. Glancing over his shoulder, the mech watched the wall he was expecting rapidly seal over the small opening that he'd apparently come through.
Subconsciously, Terabyte had let him in, but he wasn't going to relax just yet. Because she'd made it very clear earlier that she'd love to see his helm on a pike. At least part of her wanted to anyhow. And he wanted to make it out of here sane.
Dashing aside his slight confusion, he shrugged and looked around curiously. And then his jaw hit the silver streets of Protihex in all its glory. Beautiful towers curved and twisted to the clouds and probably a good way beyond, walled with glittering panes of gold-tinted glass.
Diamonds, sapphires, and rubies grew in sparkling clumps beneath the perfectly placed rows of jade and obsidian trees. The sweet smell of fresh Protihexian silver drops filled his olfactory sensors, making his tanks rumble. People Terabyte must have known walked the streets, their bright, happy smiles and cheerful laughter made his spark ache.
All of Cybertron had once been like this. Vorns ago. He'd seen the rubble of Protihex, and the abominations Shockwave left beneath it. But as far as she knew or cared, this was their fault.
He walked slowly, awed by the perfect accuracy of her memory. And she lost this so young, yet the memory had been painstakingly preserved. The reminder it must be to her. To constantly see it in her mind so clearly. Cliffjumper couldn't keep the wave of sadness from washing through her mind.
She'd done this on purpose.
To have that constant reminder of what she thought they had taken from her. No wonder she was so set on killing the Wreckers. Ultra Magnus and Wheeljack were the only ones left of that original team. He wondered if Terabyte knew that. Or if she was still hunting for Springer and Inferno as well.
It was a very good thing that Magnus wasn't here though. She may be able to restrain herself when it came to Jackie... But the red warrior could feel her hate even while she was so completely drugged into oblivion. The big, hammer-wielding commander would be too much for her self-restraint.
Cliffjumper shook himself. Mission. Right. Fix whatever that 'Con did to her. Get the little femme that was beginning to trust him back.
No matter what the cost? A voice sneered at him from somewhere in the crowd. The red mech whirled around, trying to find the source. That's how the Autobots work, isn't it?
Just as quickly as he'd spun around, the beautiful city turned gray, the buildings lying in crumbled, shattered heaps. Cliffjumper choked on his next vent of air as his vents filled with ash and smoke and the smell of burnt life-En that made him want to purge.
Grayed frames lay where they'd been offlined, crushed under rubble, impaled on sharp spikes that had once been the tops of majestic spires. Broken, golden glass glittered on the ground, mocking the beauty there had once been.
The owner of the voice laughed such a cold, broken laugh that it made the normally unswayed warrior shiver to his very core. Which only made the laugh continue. And yet he couldn't find the source.
Do you feel it yet? The pain in your spark? The guilt as you realize the horrors that your beloved Autobots committed? As you see it with your own optics? You wanna hear 'em scream? You wanna hear their pleas for Primus to spare them? How about the wails of the bonded as their mates go off in their arms?
T-Terabyte? He called, rage building in him. Cliffjumper's engines growled deeply. If Shockwave somehow managed to survive that explosion when he and 'Cee came to Earth... the red mech swore he'd rip that mech's spark out through that single calculating red optic of his. Is that you?
Well, duh. The voice replied. He could practically see her rolling her optics. Yet the voice wasn't quite right. It was just a little bit off. Whose brain did you think you were in, genius?
I just want to... talk. Oh yeah. Great. Cliffjumper rolled his optics at himself. That didn't sound at all conspicuous. He was just going for a stroll down her memory lane.
Enough sedatives to put the Lord Protector out for a week, your doc said? Just to talk. Nice.
Whoa, hang up a sec! Cliffjumper said, still wandering through the ruins trying to find her. I didn't say anything about that!
Her oddly wrong voice giggled like a sparkling. You sound waaay smarter when I can't hear your thoughts, mech.
This was getting nowhere. And where in the world was this femme? How big could her brain be? Surely he'd find her around here somewhere...
You connected directly to my processor, Autobot. No hub. No one-way sync. So I just thought I'd go for a bit o' sight-seeing through your helm. I'm sure you don't mind? But for sake of time, I'll just come see you face to face.
That would be helpful. Cliffjumper said, trying unsuccessfully to hide his frustration.
A small servo tapped his hip patiently to get his attention, startling him into jumping back with blasters leveled on the offender's spark.
Or rather, the air a couple feet above the offender's little blue helm. Blinking a couple times, the mech slowly looked down at the yellow and Prussian blue youngling. Hardly upgraded to second youngling frame by all appearances. Like within an orn of having been upgraded.
Her left arm was dislocated and hung limp at her side, her armor scratched, dented, and covered in life-En mixed with ashes. She stood with her body weight on one pede, keeping the other badly dented pede relaxed. One of those newly installed finials was bent at the tip.
Cliffjumper took an astonished step backwards, stumbling over the rubble as he did so. The youngling just raised an optic ridge. You expecting someone else?
As she spoke, two other versions of Terabyte appeared on either side of her. One was the Prussian blue and black two-wheeler that wore the shiny red Autobot insignia on her belt-plate, mask up and yellow optics gentle, but guarded. The other was the femme with midnight coloring, weapons charged and a deep red aura around her, all her bio-lights were shining so bright with rage.
Was it one of us? They asked simultaneously. The youngling smirked up at his confused expression. Now all three Terabytes spoke, We're all Terabyte... So get talking before I tear your mind to shreds and leave you to hope your medic's good at what he does.
But... you let me in... Cliffjumper pointed out, his processors not following the strangeness all too well.
What? I did no such thing, Autobot. You broke in here and now you're going to say whatever you came to say and get out before I make you. Her three very different voices all hissed in unison.
She had no recollection of letting him in. Which meant this was going to be rather more difficult. I'm here to help. You've got to trust me.
Noble Autobots that kidnap me, sedate me, and now most likely have me strapped to a medical berth while you hack me. I am to trust that all that was for my own good, right?
Yes! He said excitedly, her sarcasm going straight over his helm. Soundwave messed around in your helm when he kidnapped you and made you forget everything important. You've got to let me help you break through his lock!
All three Terabytes face-palmed. Yep. I could've sworn you were more intelligent. But I have to give you credit, you do a fantastic job hiding just how dumb you are behind that annoying grin of yours. Let's get this straight, mech. My mind, my rules. I don't have to let you do anything. And whatever's behind that mental block is my problem not-
For a moment he didn't see what had her spinning around with a look of sheer terror on all three of the versions of her faceplate. The two masked versions dropped their masks in shock and fear, at the same time the three sets of armor clamped down as tightly as possible. Her biolights - red and yellow - were completely shielded from view as every gap in her armor was sealed as it pressed tightly to her.
And then the medic's presence washed across to him.
She was so scared. Of Ratchet. Of an Autobot medic. The very medic that had saved his life and others' so many more times than he could count.
H-h-how did y-you get in here? She stuttered, backing away from the medic in sheer terror.
You let me in... Ratchet responded, confused and spark-broken by her reaction to him.
The femme shook her helm vigorously, the youngling and the angry versions of her melting away, leaving only the Terabyte they knew. She continued backing away from Ratchet, ignoring the soothing vibes that Cliffjumper was sending her. It hurt to see her like this.
He felt a light bump against his chest-plate as the little femme backed right into him. She let out a little squeak as she realized she'd backed herself into a corner. Her shivering frame stood there, leaning against him slightly, standing at her full height, her helm just level with his shoulder.
Good one, Doc. Cliffjumper muttered, laying a gentle hand on her trembling shoulder wheel, continuing to send calm thoughts towards her. Their surroundings had changed suddenly again, leaving them standing in a small grove of a jade forest. Even in the state she was in, her mind kept the mental charade so real that he felt... well, he could feel his servos and frame as though he were actually standing in this forest.
Seeming to teleport, the femme disappeared from under his hand, reappearing nestled against the stump of the furthest jade tree, arms wrapped around pedes curled up tight to her chest. Her engine whimpered, her left finial twitching like mad as she whispered repeatedly to herself that they weren't really in her mind.
That she was safe.
With a twinge of pain in his spark, Cliffjumper connected a few dots. Her finial twitched when she was lying. And now she was trying to convince herself that she was okay. And as far as she was concerned, it was a lie.
What? Ratchet snapped at him, All I did was show up. How was I supposed to know her mind was conscious and utterly terrified of me?
I don't know, but I was making progress! The red mech snapped back.
The medic snorted. Sounded more to me like she was complimenting your stupidity and threatening to fragment your mind beyond repair.
Cliffjumper watched Terabyte with sad optics as she sat there, curled up, trying to convince herself that the two Autobots - one of which was a medic - that were in her processor weren't about to tear her mind apart in the most painful way possible, stealing everything she knew.
She'd never had more than one other mind in hers at one time. Now she had two Autobots in her mind. They had got past her highly-advanced firewalls with no effort at all, claiming she'd allowed them to come in, when she'd done no such thing.
It was bad enough having one untrustworthy Autobot in her helm. But now there was another untrustworthy Autobot. Not only an Autobot, but also a medic. And that just made him twice as bad, and thrice the more reason for her to know they were going to kill her.
Their mental presences pressed so hard against her, she felt like she couldn't breathe. Her mind was so full it hurt. Terabyte rocked back and forth, clutching her knees to her chest, telling herself that she wasn't about to be murdered from the inside out.
So this was how the Autobots took care of their prisoners that didn't immediately beg to join them. She'd heard all the horror-stories, but this was so much worse than she'd ever imagined. And they hadn't even got started yet.
Not only did she have the two enemy mechs in her helm, she also had that voice in the back of her mind telling her to listen to what they had to say. That they wouldn't hurt her. She fought back all of her fear and doubts and stood up swiftly, visibly surprising the Autobots invading her mind.
I don't know how you got here, or what you are here for. And honestly, since you can both already tell, I'm going to be perfectly blunt with you. She said, trying to force her armor to puff out. And failing. I'm terrified beyond reason because I currently have two Autobots invading my brain, one of which is a medic, who knows very well the best ways to make your presence as... unpleasant as possible.
She hissed, letting out her weapons and taking slow steps towards them. But know this, if you don't get out of my helm right now, I will make sure that none of us make it out of my helm alive. Are we clear?
Cliffjumper opened his mouth, one hand raised to calm her, comforting feelings and thoughts rolling off him in a way that made some of whatever was locked away in the corner of her mind push against its bonds. TB, we're here to he-
I said, She bit out, shoving back the curiosity at what felt like a locked up memory, Are we clear?
Crystal. The two Autobots replied instantly. Ratchet looked at her with narrowed optics, Now. You've had your say, I'll have mine.
In spite of his forceful, no-nonsense tone, the medic appeared to be waiting for her permission. She received confirmation of this in the form of his thoughts which were, surprisingly, openly accessible to her. She didn't know why she let him have his say. She wasn't sure why her masked helm nodded firmly. Or why she didn't just fulfil her word and start shredding their minds.
But nod is all she did.
Maybe it was the voice getting to her. Maybe the commanding tone the medic used rang too close to a fatherly order for her to refuse. In any case, she would blame it on one of those. She was no longer aware of their shifting surroundings. Her memories were continually shifting from one setting to another.
Her quarters in Kaon, her child-hood apartment, the crumbled shack and her remembered self crying into Skyquake as they sat before the thoroughly dead frame of Pyro - earning a rather tense, disgusted, and angry vibe from the Autobots - the obsidian forest with the 'Terror Twins' stalking closer... The list rolled on.
That voice in the back of your mind... You have no control of it, do you. Ratchet stated frankly, instantly knowing that he'd captured her attention by the second word. She scowled at the confident, secure feeling passively emanating from the two alien presences in her helm.
It speaks when it will and you cannot silence it. And it is surrounded by a firewall of code that not even your skilled mind can tackle on its own.
A smug smirk that - since they could feel her every thought - was unhidden by her mask crept to Terabyte's face. The medic, in spite of his best efforts, couldn't hide the sheer awe at her processor power. She didn't think she was anything special, but she was at least decently intelligent. Enough to earn their respect anyhow...
Ratchet seemed a little distracted, outside concerns and worries seeping through the connection. Every now and then he would just freeze up as he did something in the real world. Something about the pink-helmed squishy and thingamabobs.
I am a medic, as y-
She cut him off with a snarl. As if you needed to remind me. 'Medic' is nothing more than a politically correct term for 'trained butcher'. You can't trust a medic. Not if you want to wake up.
Cliffjumper's expression was soft, pained even. In a second he had appeared at her side, one gentle hand inches from her shoulder as he - wisely - hesitated to touch her in her current mood. His tone held a quiet, unspoken plea. You can trust me, right?
Terabyte snorted. She wasn't in the mood for any of this, really. Recharge hadn't happened since the moment she noticed the locked sector of her mind, nor had she refueled in longer than she ought to have. She didn't have the time or mental power to waste on something as menial as refueling.
You can trust me... Trust me... His words echoed annoyingly in her helm for all to hear. The voice seemed to raise an optic ridge at her, again reminding her of how not so foreign the voice might be. It smirked, Well duh. Why wouldn't you trust him?
She growled. The growl deepened as she failed to come up with a reason not to. His bright, sky blue optics - the exact shade of blue that Smokey's were - were so hopeful...
"I'm ready fo' school now. I'll go with you, and you'll see me 'tween every class, and at recess. I'm a big mech now, all growed up; I c'n take care o' myself... 'Sides," The white youngling winked at her, his deep blue accents sparkling in the light. "You can trust me, right?"
The gold and blue femmeling had her hands on her hips. She loved her little Smokey... She just didn't want him to get hurt...
His bright, sky blue optics gazed up at her, seeming to pierce into her spark, melting her resolve - and the firm, logical explanation of why he couldn't - into a useless puddle. His optics were so hopeful...
You can trust me, right?
Terabyte gasped unnecessarily for the vent of imaginary air as she came out of the unwilling memory. Only a few astro-seconds had passed, but it felt like she'd just relived her whole younglinghood. She shook her helm, trying to ignore the sting of coolant in her optics, trying to rid her mind of the charred, mutilated image of the Smokescreen she saw in her nightmares.
Her spark ached. She and Smokescreen had never been bonded in any way. There was no mentor bond between them, no twin-bond - they weren't even really related, much less split sparks - there had only ever been that precious sibling bond. Sibling bonds, unlike other bonds, were not actually really even there, physically speaking. They were just a thought-process, purely mental in nature. No spark connection, no telepathy, no empathic link... There was absolutely zero reason for her spark to hurt from his absence.
But try telling that to her spark.
Terabyte locked optics with the red mech, normally so perfectly continually jovial, who now looked down at her with those optics. Those sky blue optics. How could she ever say no to those optics? Smokescreen's optics gazing down on her through Cliffjumper's face. Who could not trust them?
She didn't bother to tell him; they all already knew.
Ratchet nodded his red-chevroned helm slightly, his armor rustling, shifting to better accommodate the respectful atmosphere. Inclining his helm slightly on the stressed word, the medic spoke, his tone considerably softer and quieter, If you would like... we can look at the code for you and see what we can do to help.
Terabyte's optics remained hard and unrevealing, though it was pointless since they could still feel her every emotion. Then again, she could feel theirs just as well, putting them on somewhat level ground. Her lips pulled into a reluctant snarl. He was right. She needed help.
But she hated for it to be from Autobots. An Autobot medic. Medics knew too much about the way a Cybertronian functioned. Knowledge that could and would be used, usually to the 'patient's' detriment.
Nevertheless, she lit up a path of gold through her mind, leading them towards the dark shadow in her mind. She managed to cut off the flow of memories, returning her mind to the calming, yet so agonizingly reminding, image of Protihex in its prime and glory. She took a soothing vent of air, regaining her composure. Vaguely in the back of her mind, she was aware of the fact that she was lying prone on a medical table, unconscious and likely to remain that way for a good couple of rotations.
She was also aware of the fact that what felt like an eternity of her mind being occupied by Autobots was actually only about three klicks, or approximately six minutes.
She sighed faintly. Come.
Meanwhile.
Bulkhead's wrecking ball slammed into the Vehicon's face, crushing the 'Con's face, sending the towering purple jet stumbling backwards. That was an awesome left-hook...
Except that awesome left-hook now had way too many tons of giant alien robot falling directly towards her. Miko's hazel, slanted eyes went wide. Not good!
Looking around frantically, the girl sprinted off to the right, running like her life depended on it - which... it did. She grinned, leaping behind a boulder, rolling in the dust like they did in movies, heart pounding in her chest as the Vehicon came crashing down a couple feet behind her. Miko sprung back up to her feet, dusting off her now-torn navy and maroon tights.
"Phh-whoah..." That was close. She shook her pink-highlighted pigtails, dust floating down and around her at the motion. Huh. The movie-folks never got dusty when they did it. Nor did she remember them having headaches after doing a roll like that. Maybe she just needed more practice. She panted, still grinning at the adrenaline.
All around her, the Autobots were kicking serious Decepticon butt - tail-pipe? Bumper? Arcee was way over there across the canyon taking on Breakdown like a pro, while OP was trashing Knockout. A flash of light caught her eye and turning to see what it was, she saw that it was the data-thingy. That was what everyone was fighting over, right? So she'd go get it and save the mission!
"Sweet!" She whispered, darting out around Optimus' legs towards the silver thing. Luckily the huge Boss-Bot, as Cliff' called him, didn't see her.
Halfway to the cylinder a huge crash sounded from what seemed like two inches from her, followed by a ground-shaking thud. Miko stumbled, caught herself with one hand, and ran on, glancing over to see Breakdown tackling Arcee. Satisfied that the 'Con was getting owned, the girl leapt over the giant cylinder and dropped down, leaning against it and panting heavily.
"Whew! Okay... Aut-o-bot ba-se..." She muttered scrambling to find the number on her hot pink phone. Her fingers were a little shaky. Finding the number with Ratchet's face - ooh, he'd been so mad when she took that photo in the middle of his ranting/lecturing - attached, she dialed quickly. "Ratchet? Come in!"
"Miko..." Ratchet's voice came over sternly, though he seemed somewhat distracted, "This is an emergency line. We need to keep it clear for..."
She smirked as he trailed off, no doubt just now registering the sounds of battle around her. Ratchet made a few choking sounds, "W- Wait. Where are you?"
"D- Oy!" Miko started to say 'duh' before she caught the suspicious tone in his voice. She pouted indignantly. She was only helping! She winced as Bulk took a heavy hit to the helm. "I'm with the thingamabob!"
"Thingama- The data cylinder?!" The medic asked in disbelief.
She rolled her eyes in exasperation. The 'Bots could be so slow sometimes. "Yes! Can you like, bridge it out of here or something?"
"I'll..." Another long, distracted pause. Miko frowned, wondering what he was doing. Maybe it wouldn't have been so boring to have stayed after all... Nah. This was way cooler. "... reactivate arrival coordinates..."
Hearing the whirl of the portal activating several yards away, the fifteen-year-old girl groaned. This thing was huge! How did Ratchet expect her to get it way over there? "Dude... Couldn't you open it a little closer?"
"Supply coordinates." The doc-bot responded flatly.
"Uh..." Miko tilted her head, squinting to try and judge the distance. She hummed and hawwed before throwing out a hopeful, "Er... Fifty yards?"
She could just see Ratchet rolling his sea blue eyes/optics. Patience was not one of the doc-bot's strong suits. "Precise coordinates."
The girl growled, standing up and leaning all of her weight against the cylinder. She shoved with all her might, grunting loudly. The obstinate thing didn't even budge. It wasn't like she was weak, she was just better with the sneaking/pranking than the grunt-work. Easier to leave that to Jack.
Okay. Plan B. When push comes to shove... get momentum?
Miko ran a couple yards away from the data-thing and prepared herself. She didn't see Bulkhead getting beat back towards the cylinder. Running as fast as she could, the pink-haired girl let out a Japanese war cry, jumping into the air to deliver the best flying kick she could manage. Landing gracefully on her butt, Miko growled, punching the dust next to her. It didn't even... wait.
The silver and blue device was thrumming and vibrating, rattling loudly. Miko got up and looked around nervously. Uh-oh... Maybe she shouldn't have tried kicking it... What if she'd broke it? All of sudden the thingamabob clicked and clattered, bouncing up a good foot in the air as the end of it transformed, revealing what looked like a giant, red button.
Just as the thing had transformed and was now buzzing more and more insistently, Breakdown punched Bulkhead hard enough to send him toppling, right in front of the glowing red button...
The huge dark-green Wrecker fell flat on his back with his head inches from the device, a huge crash echoing through the canyon. Shortly followed by a BZZZAAAP! as the cylinder shot out a bright flash of red laser light straight into Bulk's head.
"Bulk!" She screamed, running a few steps towards him before having to stop as Knockout slid in front of her, obviously not caring if he happened to step on her.
The shiny, red 'Con grinned down at her guardian, mock awe in his voice. "You really took one for the team, Bulkhead." He chuckled, picking up the cylinder with an ease that made Miko's pride burn a little. His cultured, high-class voice echoed in her head. "My team."
And with that, the two Decepticons that the Bots hadn't slagged were gone, having driven through the slightly more purple ground-bridge. Miko ran up to Bulkhead instantly, asking simultaneously with Prime, "Bulkhead! Are you-"
The ex-Wrecker cut them both off with a chuckle. "Fine. Didn't even smart."
Miko let out a relieved breath. So she messed up and the 'Cons had the data cylinder now. She grinned up at her guardian, not at all worried about the small defeat. Bulk was okay, so it'd all work out in the end.