Both the autobots and decepticons divide into teams to locate the relics they have coordinates for. Knock Out believes he is truly learning who Breakdown is, but his newest mission may tamper his enthusiasm.
Meanwhile, vehicons are disappearing...

AN- The amount of transformers soundtracks I have listened to this week while writing this story is truly ridiculous.

XL-8K9C was a punctual vehicon. He had a schedule for every day and rarely strayed from his plans.

He was a miner class and much preferred the job. Miners were not supposed to have to worry about combat and deaths; or rather, they most certainly did worry (it was an unavoidable job hazard) but not nearly to the degree that a fighter class vehicon had to.

Earth was littered with different mining operations. Like many of the others, XL-8K9C was transferred from mine to mine on a scheduled basis. There were a good few shifts underground. Then one shift on board the warship. Then he'd be transported to the next mine. Rinse and repeat.

The job itself was tedious but rewarding. Most miners were transferred in the same units and found companions amidst these groups. XL-8K9C had many friends among his mining unit and many friends among the drones that he did not always work alongside of.

On his off shifts, he liked to meet with these friends.

They'd group up in one of the vehicon rec rooms to take energon together. XL-8K9C was far from the most boisterous of the group, but he made an impact. He loved to socialize and always took time to sit down with the quieter of the mechs. It was these mechs, the ones who hesitated to go into the rec room, that found themselves most enamoured with his thoughtful company.

When the rest shift was up, XL-8K9C left for the groundbridge control room without any hesitation. Others would slow, linger on, try to pull as much as they could from this snippet of peaceful life. Not XL-8K9C. He had a schedule to keep.

But when the work shift was over, he never lingered on in the mines either. He'd return straightaways and find the company of quieter mechs indebted to his friendship; mechs like XL-2M99.

The choreograph of his life never changed. It was a constant, just like dying or Megatron and Optimus clashing as if for the last time. It was predictable and expected; and in that, comfortable.

So when XL-8K9C did not arrive to the rec room for his rest shift, XL-2M99 found himself very worried.

It was the most exciting news he'd heard in this entire venture- and that was up against some pretty tough competition.

"Breakdown!" he spun around the corner of the training room and nearly ran into his partner. The blue mech dropped the ball of metal scraps in surprise at the contact. "Breakdown! Guess what?"

There really was only one correct response to that. Breakdown offered it: "What?"

Knock Out's grin grew. "We're gonna get out soon!"

To him, this had been big news. It meant Optimus trusted him enough to let him leave the base and see Jasper Nevada outside (not that the Prime knew he knew it was Jasper outside).

On the warship, no one trusted anyone. Knock Out supposed he stuck out in that regard. He'd always trusted Breakdown would act like an extension of himself. He had trusted Starscream, until the seeker had tried to blame the zombie thing on him.

Trust was a funny thing to him because, in complete honesty, Knock Out was naturally trusting.

Because it was hard for him to assume a mech would act for himself instead of in Knock Out's best interests.

But Optimus? The Prime acted so sacrificial all the time. In the past, the medic laughed at it. After being on the receiving of that, though, his opinions on the matter had taken a one-eighty. Sure, it was still a bit idiotic and far from pragmatic but- it sure was inspiring.

Could he trust that Optimus would always act in Knock Out's interests? Absolutely not. But it made the approval feel...less like a guarantee and more like something he had earned.

In other words, it was as addicting as a drug.

And hearing that he could leave soon had him high.

"Wait. Really?" Breakdown's one optic went wide.

"Yes!" Knock Out clapped. "After the next set of missions! First thing I'm going to do is just tear out onto the nearest road and drive."

The blue mech sighed with a smile. "Goodbye, cabin fever. You will not be missed."

Wise words. Such truth. Knock Out joined him with a choreographed happy sigh of his own.

"Seems kinda fast though, doesn't it?" Breakdown lost the mirth to ask. The medic shrugged.

"How long is it supposed to take?" he replied. "We've been nothing but helpful."

So far as he could see, at least. Although he had been trying very hard to see from another's perspective, it did always circle back to how he viewed the world; and that view insisted they had been model autobots.

"Eh. I'm not gonna complain," the other said. Then his grin returned with a vengeance. "Besides," Breakdown continued, "I bet we're the fastest deserters to be given that sort of trust. Bulk's gonna hate how quick I got in."

"That's the spirit!" Knock Out returned, although he had a hunch it wasn't the spirit Optimus wanted to see.

They'd go out and drive first off. Feel the earth beneath their treads and speed without worries. Then may-

Wait.

Knock Out's continence turned to carefully scripted interest.

"What do you want to do when we get out?" he made himself ask nonchalantly.

The other shrugged.

"I dunno. Drive in theater? Or a monster-truck rally?" the blue mech offered. The latter option made Knock Out snort.

"I think you'd do better going with the wreckers to something like that."

The stunned quiet that followed made him shift uncomfortably.

"What?" Breakdown laughed. "Are you telling me to take Bulk to something affably?"

Put that way, Knock Out could see how bad of an idea it sounded.

"Um, well." Well what? He tried to piece the words together to sound as natural as he could. "All I meant was... I don't particularly want to watch a bunch of nonliving vehicles bash each other." It was much more fun when they were living, after all. "But if you want to, you should! W-without me. You know."

The yellow optic narrowed. "No?" the blue mech replied. "Let's just think of something we can do together. A drive sounds jus-"

"No!" Knock Out interrupted. "I mean-What I mean to say is, if you want to do something, find someone who wants to too. Don't stop on my behalf."

The offense on Breakdown's face morphed into confusion.

"...Alright. If you say so," he said slowly. The medic beamed at him.

Look at that! The blue mech had made progress! They both had. His Arcee would be so proud.

"Wonderful!" Knock Out declared and put both servos on the big mech's chassis to emphasize joint happiness. Or what he figured was joint happiness. Honestly, the medic wasn't sure; but this seemed like the type of scenarios in the human movies for the character in his position to get all sappy.

"In other good news, I also spoke with the big guy about the autobrand."

In his former timeline, Knock Out had actually gotten the brand. It marred his perfect plating, but he had never felt better about ruining his aesthetic.

It had also been the first faction brand he'd gotten. In all the vorns he spent as a decepticon, Knock Out had never once taken on their badge. It took the war ending before he ever got his loyalty seared on his chassis.

But this time around? He'd get it while the war still raged on.

"I think, since we're already being let outside, that it could happen soon!" the medic kept going. "I've read all the stuff they've been giving me and we've been nothing but model autobot hopefuls this whole time; I think I could convince them to give us-um, me- the branding ceremony!"

The smile came hesitantly, but Knock Out hardly noticed the lack of enthusiasm on his partner's face.

"That's...great?" Breakdown tried.

Yes it was. It was completely delightful, to Knock Out at least. Why it wasn't for Breakdown, the medic wasn't sure and hardly cared. What did it mat-

Wait no.

Knock Out felt suddenly uncomfortable with this entire conversation.

"Well." His engine coughed. "I suppose we should be going. Must attend to the briefing about the latest mission. Yes."

His partner smiled at him. "Yeah, guess we should."

That smile brought all his spirits back. It felt like total confirmation that he'd done everything right. He'd listened to the other and they'd both discussed their individual opinions and what more were they supposed to do?

The medic spun around and left for the main room with a skip in his step.

With his back turned, he missed the way Breakdown looked after him in uncertainty.

"We must act quickly," Optimus said gravely. "For Megatron will not hesitate to obtain the potential doomsday devices which lie at the site of each. Each of us will have to leave; Rafael, you will control transportation in Ratchet's absence."

The young boy brightened up and straightened as tall as he could.

"You can count on me!" he declared.

All eight bots were standing together in the main room. The human children watched from the catwalk, still at the base after they had returned with the download of the Iacon Database. The fourth human was on a cot and currently far from being any help.

Ratchet spoke up after Raf. "But Optimus, when it comes to numbers-" the old medic cast a glance around the rest of them, no doubt thinking of the vast armies on the Nemesis "-we are already at a grave disadvantage."

It was a fair point, but eight skilled mechs had a strong advantage against mere vehicons.

"Under the circumstances, swiftness of action is paramount. This is one race that we absolutely cannot afford to lose."

The first set of coordinates were in New York. With Jack's help, the autobots decided on the manhattan subway system being the best option to travel through.

"Arcee, Bumblebee; you are the best choices to navigate through such densely populated areas."

The children argued over the need for this team to have a 'face man' and Optimus looked uneasy over the prospect of sending them.

The last time, Knock Out had gone to the same location. He even knew the spot where the phase shifter had been dug up.

But it was a little bit difficult to say that.

Ratchet moved to open the groundbridge and the two teens ran down the stairs.

"Take care of her, Bee-" Bulkhead said to the scout. The yellow mech buzzed out a reassuring glyph.

The two bots, with the two humans, drove out through the bridge and left the team a little smaller.

Optimus turned to the next mech he planned to send out.

"Bulkhead, Knock Out; prepare for departure. You are headed for the equator."

The younger medic shot a glance at the green wrecker. Next to him, Breakdown stiffened. Neither were happy with the idea of being separated, and Breakdown was especially uneasy with his smaller partner being sent off with his rival.

"I'll prep for tropical weather, wrecker style-" the big mech pounded his fist together and Knock Out's mouth turned down.

Oh, this would be lovely.

"Rafael and agent Fowler will be your communications and transportation hub," the Prime finished.

Fowler's ensuing confused blather about bananas did nothing to improve confidence. Knock Out and Bulkhead shared a stare that perfectly enunciated just how they felt about him being their communications hub.

The groundbridge opened again. No matter how they felt about it, the medic and his partner's rival had to leave.

"Breakdown." Optimus turned to the blue mech after their departure. "We have not yet had time to work alongside each other closely. You will accompany me as we embark to the Antarctic."

Even as the ex-stunticon was still trying to think about what that meant for him, Ratchet seemed to have a realization. A simple bit of mathematics showed only one bot to remain other than the medic himself.

"Optimus-" he got closer to the commander "-you can't be serious. Wheeljack is insubordinate, a ruffian. Besides, he's Bulkhead's partner."

The small wrecker crossed his arms and shook with silent laughter from where he was standing (in full hearing range of Ratchet's complaints).

"Your expertise is scientific," the Prime tried to console the old mech. "But Wheeljack is a highly capable warrior. You would be wise to welcome the temporary alliance."

With Optimus's words, the matter was closed. Ratchet stepped back and looked to the side, where Wheeljack was smirking.

"I'll go grab the Jackhammer," the wrecker drawled, "Meet you outside, doc."

His departure was followed by a grumbling medic. Only Optimus and Breakdown remained.

The Prime moved to triangulate coordinates and open a bridge to the artic.

Breakdown looked at the green glow and felt the cold air seeping through the bridge.

So. An outing with the autobot leader. All alone.

Lovely.

"Dispatching multiple squadrons will enable us to pursue all four coordinates simultaneously," Megatron said. His waiting audience made no compliant with the declaration.

"Soundwave." The communications officer waited for his orders in perfect stillness. "You will pursue the second set of coordinates."

The spy nodded.

"Troopers," the warlord turned his glare to a squadron of vehicons next. "Split up and take sufficient forces to both sets of coordinates. Bring me the relic under the city we hover over now and the one on this planet's equator."

The drone were hardly given another glance.

"Dreadwing."

The seeker straightened up. After so many disappointments and failures, he was determined to bring good news back to his lord.

"Take a team of eradicons to the lowest point of this world and find me the relic that awaits there."

The squadron leaders selected and locations assigned, Megatron turned away from the officers.

When only Soundwave moved, slipping through a remote groundbridge and disappearing from the bridge of the Nemesis, he felt the need to snap out "Go!"

That got the rest to move.

Dreadwing walked from the bridge towards the lift to the lower deck. Normally, he would chose to fly to whatever location his master sent him too; but the artic was too far to fly quickly towards. He and his team would need to take a groundbridge.

The seeker stepped into one of the vehicon recreation rooms and all noise quieted.

"Who among you is ready to depart on a mission of great importance?" the officer asked. A few vehicons who were currently on their working shift rose and silently made their way over to him. They were enough. Dreadwing nodded and moved away from the door.

A short distance down the hall, he heard the noise of the rec room's door sliding open. Pedefall clipped towards him and the seeker slowed to a stop. Someone evidently wished to join them or wished to speak; whichever it may be, Dreadwing would respect it.

But it wasn't a fighter that joined him. The short newcomer was a miner by build. The damaged faceplate was a signature that this was the current medic of the Nemesis.

"I hoped to find officer Soundwave about this," XL-2M99 spoke up. "But you are an officer as well."

The second in command of this ship, in fact. But Dreadwing was hardly prideful enough to boast of that or demand more respect from the medic stand in.

"I am listening," he said.

The vehicon took another moment, seemingly to gain all the courage needed to speak. "I want to make a report. We're...There are vehicons missing. Ones that should have returned to the ship by now."

Dreadwing knew nothing of that. But a sad part of him was not surprised; drones were not much missed.

"What are their names?" the seeker asked.

"XL-8K9C was meant to return last planetary cycle, but he has not reported in. I am very worried about him," the vehicon mourned. "Others are missing as well. I can construct a full list of designations, or you could ask any one of the troopers you have with you now."

Truly? Dreadwing looked behind him at the silent soldiers. "Do you have any you wish to report?" he asked them. Their blank faces turned to each other to mutter quietly. Then one looked at him and said: "XL-S33Y." Another piped up a seperate designation.

By the time each of them had reported a missing comrade, Dreadwing felt gnawing concern. Something about this situation unsettled him greatly.

"Thank you for telling me," the officer turned back to XL-2M99 and spoke distractedly. His mind was thinking of the missing soldiers and wondering why their absences had not yet circled up to high command.

The medic inclined his head.

"I will do my best to return your brothers to you all," Dreadwing promised. "I swear I will look into these disappearances."

It would have to wait until after he retrieved the relic for lord Megatron; but when he had finished, the seeker planned to find the autobots or rogue decepticons responsible for this situation.