The hangar that served as the Autobots' Earth headquarters was one of many, set at neat and orderly intervals along smoothly laid concrete. Only one piece of the pattern was out of place, the charred area where Unit E's mess hall had stood before Starscream and his armada strafed it. It had surprised Ultra Magnus how easily the Decepticons were duped into attacking the wrong target.
Shifting the plasma rifle laid across his knees, Ultra Magnus studied the site through the window where he held his vigil. The blackened concrete was the only sign that a building had once stood there. A construction crew, brought in by Unit E, had cleared the debris; Bulkhead's proffered assistance had been politely refused.
Ultra Magnus had approved of both those decisions. Although he was not as familiar with Earth's natives as the others on Team Prime, Unit E's attention to safety and adherence to regulation had earned his respect. And if the human soldiers trooping around the base in orderly formation had not awakened a kinship in him, they had at least stirred a nostalgia.
Now he was guarding his teammates against those same humans. The morality of the individual humans did not matter. Nor did the feelings they stirred in him, which a more sentimental bot might have called wistful. No. Good soldiers with a bad commander were just as dangerous as chaotic beings who valued no rules, no law.
Long before Ultra Magnus had been charged with the task of bringing the undisciplined Wreckers to heel, he had gained a reputation for demanding that other Autobots—be they his superior, subordinate, or equal— strictly adhere to the Autobot Code. Only Optimus Prime's unusual devotion to morality and principle had precipitated Magnus' rise in rank. By and large, officers did not care for those who reported their shortcomings. Ultra Magnus had not cared; he was there to do a job, not make friends.
He still had a job to do, yet now he was expected to make friends.
He was not good at it. But since Optimus had ordered—no, asked— him to do so, he would persist in his attempts.
It wasn't easy.
The discussion with the rest of Team Prime had started well enough. Upon gathering in the hangar, Ultra Magnus's first point—that they should set a guard—had garnered unanimous agreement. From the way the other bots uncomfortably glanced towards the hangar's entrances, it was not lost on them that they would be sleeping, if not with the (potential) enemy, then at least in close proximity.
His next point, however, had met with strenuous objections. No one had been happy when Ultra Magnus stated that, if they had no means of bringing an Earth native to justice when said native inflicted grievous injury on a Cybertronian citizen, then the planet was not safe enough to maintain a permanent base on.
Bulkhead had raised his voice, Arcee had complained about his"tyrannical attitude", and Bumblebee seemed torn between being personally offended and falling into a panic. Wheeljack's unhelpful suggestions were that they permanently bring "the kids" to Cybertron or "pound Bryce into the pavement." (An abhorrent proposal of vigilantism, although Magnus would not complain if a court of law conferred a capital punishment on the human miscreant.)
Through effort of will Ultra Magnus had remained silent, allowing Optimus to be the one to chastise Wheeljack before firmly ordering the Autobots to recharge. All except Optimus and Ultra Magnus, guarding the entrances, and Bumblebee, manning the communications array.
Ultra Magnus frowned, remembering Optimus' reaction. Unlike the others he had shown no anger, but had suggested the danger would be minimal if they found a new base. The argument made little sense to Ultra Magnus, seeing as Knock Out had not even been near the base when he was abducted. Optimus' arguments, while passionate, did not align with the Autobot Code and since Magnus knew the Code backwards and forwards, he had little trouble pointing out the discrepancies. And finally, Optimus had capitulated.
Ultra Magnus took no joy in his victory. This little planet and its natives clearly provided some kind of solace to the Prime and the rest of the team. Even Knock Out had always been enthusiastic about Earth (or at least its racing circuits) despite having been a Decepticon, a faction that had actively tried to cyberform the planet.
"If you liked it so well, why did you assist in such a scheme?" Ultra Magnus had asked him, back when he still regarded the shiny red mech's every move with suspicion.
Knock Out had given him a cautious smile; he was still diffident back then. "Well, Megatron didn't really like hearing 'no'."
Ultra Magnus sat a little straighter, remembering that exchange. He was no Decepticon. He could tell his leader 'no'. Perhaps it would foster resentment and dislike, as it had with the Wreckers, his superior officers, and the various soldiers who'd chafed under his devotion to regulations. That couldn't be helped. To speak that word was still his duty. Even to his Prime.
As if on cue, he heard Optimus' voice call from across the room: "Ultra Magnus, will you join us? Raf has contacted us yet again."
Magnus made his way across the room, studying Optimus' gentle (if tired) smile and sad eyes.
I will make a good-faith effort to find a way to preserve our link to this planet, Magnus thought. That, perhaps, could be his expression of friendship.
Knock Out listened as Raf began to explain his idea to Optimus, Ultra Magnus, and Bumblebee. And to himself, since this was the first he'd heard of it.
Raf began with a rundown of what he'd seen. Maybe he was expecting too much of the young human after seeing him build a working radio from basically nothing, but so far Knock Out was underwhelmed by his observations. He didn't see the relevance in Raf's discovery of a bunch of junk. Now, finding the giant cage and a collar— THAT was relevant. And terrifying. But a bunch of expired rations and old cots—no.
Optimus Prime and Ultra Magnus, on the other hand, seemed very interested by Raf's description of his walkabout. (Bumblebee, to Knock Out's relief, seemed as nonplussed as he was.)
"—and the PC was so old it had Windows 95 on it," Raf concluded a summary of his explorations. "Even a computer from ten or fifteen years ago wouldn't be using that. So it seems like this was a place to dump stuff no one wanted anymore. So, um, maybe they don't have a lot of resources or support. "
"Yes, if Bryce and his followers are forced to use whatever obsolete equipment is lying around. . ." Optimus said.
"Then it follows that he does not have the full support of the United States military, or even Unit E," Ultra Magnus finished.
"Not yet. But when I was in that one warehouse, with the computer? I hacked into General Bryce's email." Raf gripped the side-hanging seat belt nervously. "There's someone coming to meet him, a couple people actually, and they're connected to some kind of governments weapons email chain started two days ago—"
"When Knock Out arrived on Earth," Bumblebee said.
"Yeah. Bryce was pretty cagey about what he was doing and at first they kinda blew him off, but he kept talking about 'new, advanced weaponry' and they started to get interested."
"Do you know the names of these individuals, Raf?" Optimus Prime asked after a long moment.
"No. The one answering the emails signed them 'Smith', but that sounds fake, right?"
"Smith, how quaint," Knock Out scoffed, trying to ignore the nervous pulsing of his spark. A weapons program. He was the weapon. "That's—That's just—How silly. So what's the plan? We have a plan, of course?"
"Well," Raf said, "I was thinking we could delay the rescue until this Smith person meets with Bryce."
So far Knock Out hated Raf's plan.
As soon as they were out of the hospital, Miko pumped her fist in the air and gave a victory whoop. "Yesss!"
"Miko, wait until we're in the parking lot at least," Jack scolded as he took off his face mask. But he was grinning too.
Even his mom looked triumphant and mischievous. "You kids are a bad influence. I broke a dozen rules in there and I barely feel guilty."
"Mrs. Darby, you're saving two people's lives," Miko pointed out as they climbed the concrete steps leading to the elevated parking lot. "And that guy back there feels great."
"Until the morphine wears off," June answered wryly, looking around for Ratchet.
Jack spotted the ambulance first, but of course Miko sprinted past him, picking up so much speed that gravel jumped and scattered around her as she skidded to a stop. She banged her hands on the Autobot's hood. "We got it, Ratch! We got it!"
"Wonderful. Do you think you could tell me about it without denting my chassis?" Despite the dour nature of the words, there was an undercurrent of excitement in his voice. His doors flew open. "Well, get in, get in!"
They did.
"Don't worry about dents and dings, Ratchet. You'll have a medic to fix you up soon," Jack grinned.
"Yeah! And Raf to hand him tools!" Miko said.
"We'll see," Ratchet said. "But with luck . . . Well, we'll see."
Knock Out did not need to be informed of Ratchet and the humans' arrival at the Autobots' Earth base; Miko's exuberant call of "We're ba-aaaack!" came over the comm loud and clear.
He wasn't the only one who heard her, either; sleepy voices and the faint clink and clatter of robot pedes could be heard in the background.
"What's going on? Is it time?" That was Smokescreen.
"Miko! How'd the mission go?" Bulkhead.
"You did it? Good job, Jack." Arcee.
Despite being in the dark, huddled in a cardboard shack, Knock Out could picture the team gathering around to greet the newcomers.
"Hey, Raf! Hey, arch-nemesis!" Miko's voice was much closer now and the bots (and humans) around her were quieting down. Plus, knowing Miko, she was hogging the comm. "Guess what weeee got!"
"My mom got the coordinates; we can bridge you out of there!" Jack put in. The Autobots let out a collective cheer (which Knock Out would gladly have participated in if he wasn't in a warehouse full of enemies). "You two are okay, right?"
"Doing well enough," Knock Out said eagerly. A list of his injuries could wait. "But before you come blazing over, there are some things you should know."
Before he could explain about the thugs with taser guns Raf nodded, leaning forward from his perch on the driver's seat with a serious look on his face. "Yeah, we were actually thinking the rescue should wait a little bit."
Knock Out instantly regretted letting Raf, Optimus, and Ultra Magnus ramble on about their plan to—as far as he could ascertain—embarrass Bryce. Or something. He hadn't really followed the logic of this since Bryce was a dangerous man who controlled minions loaded with advanced weaponry, not some school bully like Vance. However, he'd stayed quiet and let them discuss their little what-if in case something useful came of it. Besides, he owed Raf.
But now that there was the possibility of being rescued right now, immediately . . .
"Well, I don't know about postponing it, Raf," Knock Out hedged. "You said yourself there were a lot of unpredictable variables . . ."
"But if it worked, you guys wouldn't have to leave Earth," Raf said earnestly.
Knock Out hesitated. He could swallow his pride and admit that he hadn't really understood the point of Raf's plan. Or he could tell Raf that he didn't give a frag if the Autobots never came back to this planet. Either option would hurt Raf's feelings.
So he didn't say anything.
The rest of Team Prime, of course, had plenty to say. They positively cheered. Their excitement was not only palpable, but loud enough that Knock Out lowered the volume on his comm, lest the prowling guards overhear.
"I should have expected as much from you," Ratchet said (a phrase that Knock Out had also heard from the ambulance, albeit not in tones of glowing pride). "Tell us all about it, Raf."
Most Decepticon plans had their genesis in a single source: Megatron. Sometimes the warlord would ask for input, but that was rare. More typically, he would tell them what to do and they, the officers, would troop out and do it.
Team Prime provided . . . a different experience. Members could, and did, offer advice freely, frequently, and all at once. (Ultra Magnus' stony disapproval was the only evidence Knock Out had that this was not standard practice for all Autobots units.) And so Raf's plan unfolded more slowly than it had the first time.
Knock Out listened more closely this time and grudgingly admitted that the idea had some potential. Essentially, Raf thought they should drive a wedge between Bryce and the rest of the army (or whatever military branch Unit E belonged to, Knock Out had never cared enough about it to find out). Then the military would punish Bryce in order to avoid an international incident with the Autobots.
The trouble was the plan was rather skeletal; long on 'if we could do this' but short on 'here's how we do this.' Knock Out relaxed a little; the Autobots weren't stupid, they would realize the plan was untenable after they talked it out. And then they'd bridge his bumper out of this terrible place.
Bumblebee and Smokescreen noticed when he fell silent, which surprised him, and tried to pull him back into the conversation, which gratified him.
"This just isn't my area of expertise," he told them. "And I'm tired. I drove a long way—"
Before he could finish his sentence ('and was attacked') Smokescreen interrupted: "So did we! Bet we drove farther!"
"Yeah?" Knock Out's curiosity was piqued. "How far? And how did you find me, anyway?"
They began to explain and everyone joined in, offering details with no regard for chronological order. Car chases and phase shifters and car dealerships. A name that sounded like a car and a plaza they reached a little too late.
Knock Out listened in fascination. He pictured the Autobots racing across the country, searching for him, and that made the misery of his blank, dark surroundings recede. He wanted to convey that to them somehow, to give them something more profound than just 'thanks', but Jack spoke up while he was still trying to find the right words.
"Wait a minute, mom. A car dealership?"
"Yes, but if you think your first car is going to be a luxury model, then think again."
"No, I know, but I was just thinking—"
"Ohhh!" Miko interrupted. "Yeah!"
Those two. Here comes trouble, Knock Out thought indulgently.
In tandem, they babbled out their idea. It was nonsense. But it was nonsense in a way that sort of made sense. Knock Out found himself remembering that wild impulse that had made him approach the spymaster Soundwave, boogeyman of the Decepticon army, and ask . . . could he have a little seed money to buy a hamburger restaurant?
The other Autobots were making the same progression from skeptical to attentive, he could hear it in their voices. They were offering suggestions of their own now, bulking up the skeleton of a plan. Bulkhead proposed adding a radio. Bumblebee said something about remote control. And Wheeljack offered to be on "scuff duty."
"This . . . could work." Ultra Magnus' steady voice still managed a hint of surprise.
"It could," Optimus said, and his voice held more than a hint.
Ratchet was still determined to be a buzzkill. "If we open a ground bridge, who knows which part of the base it will open onto? It could dump us directly in front of the soldiers."
"We can open a bridge a couple miles away and I can scout out the area," Bumblebee suggested.
"Well . . ." Ratchet struggled to find another objection. "I suppose that would work. But don't forget it will take time to acquire all the necessary components."
"Rafael." Optimus Prime's gravelly voice caught a bit of static as it transmitted through the device on Knock Out's dashboard. "When is General Bryce scheduled to meet with these experts?"
"Um." Raf absently fiddled with the seatbelt as he tried to remember the current date. "Six days from now."
Knock Out couldn't help himself, the words escaped in a squeak: "Six days?"
He hated the panic in his voice, the way his engine whined and clunked. The others fell silent and the silence stretched; he struggled for a glib remark or witty rejoinder but the darkness was pressing all around and all he could think of was a week of hunger and aches and that awful human gloating over him and his vents were picking up speed, whuffing excess heat out his front grill in a most embarrassing way—
"Guys . . . we've got to get him out of there." Bumblebee sounded worried and Knock Out tried to summon a shroud of indignation. Before he could shrug into it, the other Autobots were murmuring their agreement.
"Knock Out, hey." Arcee must have been leaning towards the instrument panel, her voice was clearer than before. "Never mind about the plan. We'll get you out of there. Tonight."
"Yeah, and—and if anyone gets in our way—"
"You aren't going, Miko."
"—we'll crush 'em, right Bulk?"
"Darn right."
"Ratchet, the coordinates—"
"Yes, I have them, Optimus, but we still don't know exactly where the bridge will land."
"Open it a ways away like Bee was saying! Me and him can scout it out, I still have the phase shifter!"
Knock Out's engine steadied and his ventilations quieted. Through his mirrors he could see Raf biting his lip, guilt written on his face as his damp palm pet the plush of Knock Out's cushions.
"Stop," Knock Out said, surprised at the calmness in his voice. The hand paused in mid-stroke and the Autobots paused. "I hear someone. Raf?"
"Oh my gosh. W-we'll call you guys back!" Raf flipped a switch on his invention and the lights on the front stopped blinking. Gathering the contraption in his arms, he began to clamber into the back seat to hide.
"Raf, wait! Wait. Put that thing back. It's all right, no one's coming."
Raf blinked owlishly, cocking his head to the side. Not hearing any footsteps or voices, he slowly set the device back on the dash. "You were lying? Knock Out, why? We've got to give them more information. How many soldiers and what building we're in! So they can rescue us."
"I know. I know. Just . . . that plan of yours. It could work. Six days is a . . . a bit much. But if we could speed things up—" He cleared the static from his vocalizer. "Turn that contraption of yours back on, will you? I need to make a quick call to Japan."