The autobots bridge into the M.E.C.H. base in Arizona.
A few unexpected faces refuse to make this an easy mission.
AN- All previous chapters and the next 19 have been edited for english mistakes.
"Do we have a bead on the coordinates?"
Ratchet and Raf nodded together in answer to Optimus's question. Nearby, Fowler shifted where he stood.
"I got the boys ready to move in when you give us the all clear. M.E.C.H. is our mess to clean up," he said.
"I understand, agent Fowler," Optimus addressed him. "But with Airachnid headed there, it is too dangerous. I cannot condone human casualties."
This time it was Breakdown that shifted. "Except those on M.E.C.H.'s side..." he muttered. The mech avoided the pointed glare of disapproval Optimus sent him.
"One-eye is right," Fowler crossed his arms. "Now isn't the time to be pulling punches."
If it was possible, the Prime would probably have shifted like the other two had moments earlier. The entire base was staring at him. Ratchet was frowning.
For such a big, strong bot- you're soft
"Perhaps-" was all that he allowed.
"Speaking of that..." the human agent started up again. "Now also seems like a prime opportunity to deal some damage to the cons. Their ship is leaving a smoke trail. My guys could probably trace it down and we could bring this war to an end."
If only it were so easy.
A few feet away, Jack started to splutter.
"And split up the team when my mom's life is on the line?"
It wasn't really what Fowler had intended to imply. But no one could exactly blame the teen for his reaction.
"We shall do everything in our power to return June to you," Optimus tried to reassure.
Lotta good those reassurances did when other autobots ran around making the job impossible.
Jack remembered when Ratchet had almost been assigned his guardian. Optimus had turned to the old mech first and only gave the task to Arcee when Ratchet pulled out a distracted "busy" card.
He'd always figured that had something to do with the Prime not trusting Arcee would be calm enough to 'handle' him after Cliffjumper's death.
Whatever it was, he was more glad than ever that the medic had pulled that card.
Arcee knew what it was like to worry. All Ratchet did was make things worse.
That was harsh. That was an exaggeration.
Jack couldn't bring himself to focus on that fact though.
The conversation had already moved on without him. Optimus was looking his team over.
"Agent Fowler will run interference with the M.E.C.H. side of this. Arcee, Bumblebee; you will work with him."
Splitting Arcee off from the group assigned to scrapping Airachnid was probably tactically wise. But Jack wanted her to be the one he was trusting his mom with.
She'd rescued her before. He believed so badly she could do it again.
He had to.
"Bulkhead. Breakdown." Optimus turned to the big mechs. "Would you be able to work alongside each other and Wheeljack in taking Airachnid, and any warriors she brings through, down?"
The two rivals shared a startled glance and immediately looked pointedly in the opposite directions.
"Eh," the blue one shrugged. "We won't kill each other, boss." Bulkhead offered a slight thumbs up in agreeance.
Somehow, Jack didn't feel reassured that the mech without qualms over dead humans and the one who broke everything delicate in the base, along with a real lone wolf type, would be the crack team in charge of saving h-
"I will deal with Airachnid should you three be distracted by whatever back up she brings," the Prime said. "And Jack?" he moved his attention to look gently at the teen. Jack had the sudden uncanny feeling that all his thoughts had impossibly been heard. "My first priority will be rescuing her."
But-but-
The human sunk down on himself where he stood.
It wasn't like he could do anything better than Optimus Prime could. He still didn't like the helplessness of waiting alone for others to do this. At least when Airachnid and Silas had got his mom last time, he'd been right there on the front lines to save her.
...since when should he have started thinking of that horrible incident with the terms 'at least'?
"This mission will require precision, risk, and courage. And I presume it will incur injuries. Ratchet?"
The medic spun at the controls in confusion over being mentioned.
He'd been hiding there ever since he'd admitted to blowing the Tox-En into molten waste. As he should.
"You will come with me," Optimus let one servo extend his way.
There was, without a doubt, some reason why he'd ask for the old medic rather than the combat capable young one. Jack didn't know what it was.
"I...Optimus. Why me?" Ratchet's optics were wide. It was guilt, guilt, guilt and it all belonged there-
That wasn't fair of him to think.
But the alternative was thinking about his mom.
Hate was easier to manage than fear.
Nearby, the sound of Smokescreen folding down in disappointment became even more audible.
"Yeah-" the rookie protested. "What about me?"
Optimus leveled his stare down on the young mech. Even with their large (in human relativism) distance, Jack still felt targeted by the disapproval in those blue optics.
"You and Knock Out will remain at base to help Rafael operate the groundbridge and run our communications hub."
If he wasn't stressed beyond his coping abilities, Jack probably would've been amused at the sheer 'dad'ness radiating from the stoic Prime. So those two were grounded, were they?
"Are we clear on our plan and roles?" Optimus swept his attention over the team. Each member straightened up subconsciously. Arcee went ramrod in attention.
"We're clear-" she answered for the group. The Prime nodded.
"Good. Rafael? Open the groundbridge."
Its green flared to life. Agent Fowler started to climb down the stairs.
"Autobots-" Optimus turned to face the portal. "Roll out."
The cybertronians of the group sped out, except for those carrying the crates of red energon to bait Airachnid. But it would remain open until Fowler finally made it through.
Why was that important for him to take note of?
Somehow, the answer came in the form he was expecting least: a poke from one of the other humans at the base. Jack turned around to see her watching him impatiently.
"Well, Jack Rabbit?" Miko crossed her arms and looked unblinkingly at him. "We going or what?"
Excuse her but what?
The confusion must have been evident on his face. The other teen rolled her eyes.
"Get your mom. Get revenge on the rogues and cons and humans that hurt her and Bulk. Was the gist of it really that hard to understand?" she deadpanned.
The girl really had been truly stuck on revenge since Bulkhead's injury.
But Jack knew better. His mom had raised him smarter. He knew better.
He did.
The boy leveled his stare at Miko and gave a short nod.
"Let's go."
The site in Arizona was dark with night and terribly silent.
For a M.E.C.H. operation that had just seen a cybertronian portal form, there was very little reaction. No alarms started up. But when the bridge finally shut and its buzzing noise faded away, they could hear a few lone, muted alarms ringing.
Somehow that subdued, un-unified noise was worse than hearing the expected blast of alarms at their entrance.
Something had already tripped M.E.C.H.'s attention.
Optimus took a few cautious steps forward. His guns were pointed at the darkness, expecting to see some new human weapon or one of those deathlike 'chimera's.
There was nothing.
"Fan out," he ordered. The team split into the groups he had planned moments before. Ratchet followed him closely while the three bruisers trailed them; there was a noticeable distance between the two ex-wreckers and the other, but that remained a wise move on their parts.
The only light came from a few working yellow phosphorus, the light of their guns, and the pooling of luminous fluids. Energon. He felt his guard go up further.
«Prime!» Fowler's voice barked through his comm line. Optimus drew up short and waited patiently for the rest of the inevitable comment.
«We've got a situation. More than one.»
Of course. Nothing operated as planned. Flexibility was the most important quality a mech could have.
If only the Megatronus of old could've been flexible; perhaps then his reaction to losing the Primehood would have been far less extreme.
It served only to prove the vitality of adaptation.
"What is it?" he asked.
«I got no eyes on M.E.C.H. soldiers currently able to be a threat, but I'm looking at a whole lotta dead ones.»
"I see," Optimus sighed. "What else?"
«The kids ran past me when I was leaving the bridge.»
He would've stumbled if he was still walking. Blue optics went wide.
No.
Perhaps the M.E.C.H. casualties could be overlooked, but the children?
«Lost sight of them in the dark pretty quick. Keep a look out, will ya?»
"Will do, agent Fowler," he answered.
A worrisome situation. But one that joined a line of troubling situations all of which involved the too-quiet environment around them.
They continued to move deeper into the compound. It was larger than they had expected from previous facilities.
More broken lights. More puddles of coagulated energon and oils. More splashes of blood and unmoving human corpses.
Whoever had done this had the element of surprise over these otherwise well prepared little aliens.
Another warehouse lay ripped apart. Inside were the cooling remains of explosive damage. It seemed there were vehicon and insecticon remains among this cooling mess; the 'chimera' projects, then.
He continued to move until they approached the southern border of the compound. The order to stay on guard did not need to be said. It was obvious. They were not alone in this facility; hidden M.E.C.H. agents may still be prowling and whatever had dealt this damage had yet to b-
The shape was standing behind the large electrical fence. Staring outwards over the desert as he was, the decepticon's glowing optics were hardly bright enough to have been noticed before. It was his bulking silhouette that was first visible.
The form was distinct enough to recognize even with such low lighting. Optimus approached Dreadwing cautiously. The closer he got, the more details became visible, lit up as they were by his glowing gun barrels. The sword of the seeker was still held in one servo. Brown had crusted on pedes and legs; dried blood, no doubt left behind from kicking much smaller enemies around.
Optimus felt something in his spark sink and he had no time to question what it was.
"Dreadwing." The seeker had likely noticed their approach already but he still did not turn from where he stood looking away from the compound. "Why?"
Why ruin an otherwise good record? Why indulge in the barbarous tyranny over weaker life forms that his fellow factionmates did?
A sliver of red appeared when Dreadwing let his face move ever so slightly to the side.
"Do not waste my time with puzzles," he rumbled dangerously.
Despite the threatening cadence, Optimus felt no need to rush into battle.
"Why this slaughter?" he elaborated.
The seeker's shoulders shook with restrained laughter. "Slaughter? Slaughter? You are a fool, insistent on wasting my time."
"You massacred defenseless humans. While this facility could not be allowed to continue its actions, destruction of this magnitude was beneath you. Our war was not with them."
The statement was not the right one to make. The mirth vanished. Dreadwing turned around to face them all slowly.
Optimus recognized something had changed in the honorable mech's expression.
Something had been lost. It was a face of anger compensating for confusion, purposelessness. He wished he could help. It never mattered what faction or who the mech was; Optimus always battled with the instinctive reaction to try to help someone he could see was in pain.
Even when he knew there was no chance they would accept it.
"Defenseless?" Dreadwing growled and the noise chilled its listeners. "Follow me."
Despite the danger radiating from the seeker, Optimus did. They moved into the rubble remains of a warehouse and Dreadwing pulled up to a stop. The blue flyer pointed at one of many twisted purple forms on the ground. "He was defenseless. This human organization's technology can disable and damage a cybertronian with ease, just as it did with him. With all of them. They were defenseless. The monsters that did this were most certainly not."
Optimus had no reply.
The sight of pain, of twisted tortures, of remorseless experiments-
What reply could be given to that sight? What would not undermine the suffering here?
During this conflicted, miserable silence, a louder noise ripped to life.
A groundbridge.
Dreadwing looked away from where he had been glaring at Optimus to stare at the green vortex.
"Were you expecting reinforcements?" he asked in befuddlement.
The first shape to step out was small; a fragile, skinny cybertronian with enough sadism to make up for her size.
He had almost let himself forget that this was their trap when he had run into a different unexpected mech.
With their natural warble, insecticon after insecticon flew out over the femme's head.
It made him tense up and the seeker lift his blade in preparation. How easily the world had narrowed down just to them. How easily they'd let themselves be distracted by the atrocities here and the lull of inaction between two enemies.
"No," Optimus answered, almost pointlessly.
"I once asked you to set aside your hostility with us and stan-"
The decepticon cut him off. "I don't have time for your speeches tonight, Prime! I will stand with you and finish my battle with this scum. But only that," he cast a sideways glare at the autobot leader. "Only that."
The last time they had joined their swords, Dreadwing had said much of the same.
Optimus could not help but hope this farewell threat was as false as the last had been.
Smokescreen was pouting and it was driving Knock Out up the metaphorical wall. The rookie didn't have a thing to be mad about. He was new here and thought he deserved the exact same treatment as the rest of them? It made sense that he was left behind on such a delicate mission.
But him?
It was a slap in the face. He'd apparently botched the last groundbridge control mission he'd been given. That felt bad enough.
Very, very bad, if he was being honest.
So why was he given another one? What was the point of that?
For what felt like the fiftieth time, Smokescreen let out an exaggerated sigh and paused in his pacing.
"We should be out there," he whined, "We should be helping."
Sitting directly on the metal walkway, Raf barely paused in his typing to respond: "Even if Airachnid does bring back up, which she most likely will, the team is more than capable of dealing with it. They were capable back when it was just four of them heading out in the field and right now we have seven out there. Plus Fowler, and Jack and Miko because, quite frankly, they're idiots."
As if that made it any more reassuring to be tossed aside like scrap.
"Yeahh, but-" Smokescreen let out some sort of garbled, frustrated noise. "I could still help!"
How rude of him to only assume he himself could, or wanted to, help.
"I could-I don't know- I could do...wait!" the rookie perked up. "I've got it!"
The utter enthusiasm there summoned Knock Out's attention away from his own bitter pouting.
The same could not be said of Raf, who managed to breathe out a very audible sigh.
"We've got some relics of our own, but not all of them. Right?" Smokescreen didn't wait for the rhetorical question to be answered. "The human guy said something about the big ship leaving a trail, didn't he? So it's traceable; and you know what's on that ship?"
The medic was perking up at every new bit of madness the rookie said.
"Relics," he answered, "Weapons. Before we came here, Breakdown and I even brought the forge of Solus Prime on board."
Smokescreen was bouncing where he stood, enthused by this added confirmation.
"All ripe for the taking! All we need is to grab some of our own relics Jack showed me you're keeping in storage to use, trace down the smoking warship, bridge me on board and BAM!"
"We add another set of advantages to our ever increasing arsenal," Knock Out chuckled.
They shared a plotting grin.
From where he was sitting, Raf dropped his head against the railing with another sigh.
