Age of Smoke Part 1: The Autobot Code
Chapter 9: Results
"Okay," Jazz's voice came through Rewind's comm. "Whenever ya're ready, mech." Since Blaster didn't have a comm. yet, and they didn't want to make a lot of noise they were going to communicate through the symbiont's comm. They could actually get in trouble for this—especially Jazz—so Blaster had to be very careful.
It was exciting, though. He was finally getting to do real spy stuff. He was going to catch a double agent.
He took a deep vent and put in the code to unlock the door. Then, cautiously, he slipped out into the hall.
"Okay, good," Jazz said. "I'll walk ya through where ya need ta go. Ya'll want ta make for the vents like we planned."
Blaster nodded and hurried down the hall, with Rewind sprinting alongside him. He wished he could take Steeljaw too, but Jazz had insisted that was too risky. If they attracted Red Alert's attention, the whole mission was ruined.
The vent cover came off easily. Blaster was pretty sure it was supposed to. This place had been built for sneaking around in.
"Now," Jazz said, "the mech we're looking for could be anywhere on the base, but we got about a hundred suspects right now. We're gonna start with the most high ranking subjects and work our way down, which means I need ya ta get inta the command complex. Follow my directions exactly, and keep your range out, but not so big that it'll hurt ya, okay?"
"Okay," Blaster whispered and Rewind passed the message along.
"Promise me ya won't spread your range too far."
"Promise," Blaser said.
"Good. The next left."
Blaster expanded his range. He'd been practicing and he could get it pretty far without it starting to hurt. Unlike Soundwave, he'd been taught how to control it shortly after becoming a telepath and he was stronger in any case. Jazz shouldn't be worried.
He listened carefully to the mecha around him, trying to find something suspicious while Jazz guided him through the maze-like ventilation system. As time went on, listening got a little distracting, and Jazz had to remind him to move quietly more and more often.
At one point, Blaster came in range of Jazz's processor and stopped, intrigued as he listened to the mech manipulating the cameras and microphones and sensors in the vents, hacking them one at a time and feeding them lies that kept Blaster invisible.
He's stopped moving. "Mech?" he said through Rewind's comm. "Everything okay?"
"Yeah," Blaster whispered. "Sorry."
Rewind passed along the message.
I wonder why he stopped…
Blaster started crawling again. He kept Jazz in his range, though, expanding as he went until he could hear all the mecha in the main command centers. Then that was too much so he shrank back until he couldn't hear the tactical department anymore. But he could still hear Jazz's department and the communications department, which was close by.
"So," he said quietly. "I can hear your department and Elita's."
He waited for Rewind to pass the message along.
Primus how many mecha is that?
"Only about… fifty," Blaster said. "That's not a lot."
I can't even imagine having fifty mecha in my processor.
"So… who am I looking for?"
He waited for Rewind to pass along the message. Rewind was a little confused since Jazz had stopped comming him, but he relayed the message anyway.
"Sorry you're out of the loop Rewind," Blaster whispered. "Jazz is in my range, so I'm just responding to his thoughts."
Rewind shook his helm. "It's fine," he whispered back.
Can you pick out designations?
"Not unless I listen for a long time," Blaster said. "They have to think it."
Well, take your time then. All of my mecha are under suspicion, of course, and there were a few of Elita's who were close enough to where we were keeping the combiner. I'll think about one and you can see if you can find them. Do you get visual data from mecha's processors too? It always seemed like Soundwave did.
"I get every kind of data," Blaster said. Visual, audial, tactile… It hadn't even been that long and he was so used to it already—being able to think and feel the things other mecha did.
He stretched out in the vent, careful to be quiet as he maneuvered to a more comfortable position. They had a couple of joors before he would have to go back to his quarters, and Jazz seemed to think it might take the whole time.
He listened as Jazz thought about individual suspects, and then he tried to pick them out in the sea of processors. He started with Jazz's mecha, trying to sense if any of them were traitors. That would be sad—he hadn't officially met any of them, but he knew some from back when they'd been watching him and his guardians.
He was halfway through trying to pick them out individually when someone from Elita's department caught his attention.
Something that mech had thought…
He paid attention, trying to focus. Despite his confidence that he'd be fine, he'd started to feel a little disoriented, and a dull ache was budding in his helm. He kept listening because he'd heard something—he'd heard something.
Hey, mech, how are you doing? Jazz thought.
"I think there's someone in Elita's department," Blaster said. "Can you send me over there so I can just listen to them?"
Jazz hesitated, then nodded. Okay, give me a breem ta plan your route. Frag, this is almost too fast.
Blaster let his range shrink. "You'll have to talk to me through Rewind again," he said.
Jazz commed Blaster's symbiont. "Got it. Now head south, then take a left. You'll have ta climb a little after that…"
Blaster followed his instructions until he was close enough to expand his range over Elita's department without picking up anyone else. That made it easier to focus and listen.
It only took him about ten breems to find the mech who'd had the weird thought. He listened for a little while, just to make sure, and then turned and whispered excitedly to Rewind.
"Tell Jazz we've found him."
Fireflight had actually forgotten what he was looking for. He knew it was something important, something he cared about. But he wasn't sure what or why he thought he might find it up here on the roof of the base. And wasn't it bad to fly around up here? For some reason?
He took off from the roof and flew up to a guard tower, trying to remember...
Was that… Slingshot sitting up there on the little flat roof? That was strange. Fireflight flew over and transformed to land next to him.
"Hey," he said.
The other mech kept staring off in the direction of the setting sun. "What are you doing here?"
"I don't know," Fireflight admitted. "I think I was looking for something, but I'm not sure what, or why I was up on the roof, since I don't think I'd lose something up here. What are you doing here?"
Slingshot looked down at his hands.
"Oh!" Fireflight said, suddenly remembering. They'd been looking for Slingshot, who'd disappeared after being locked up in that horrible dungeon place. He almost commed Silverbolt to let him know Slingshot had been found, but then hesitated. Slingshot probably didn't want to talk to Silverbolt, or he wouldn't be hiding. "Umm… Slingshot?"
"This is stupid," Slingshot said. "They don't want us, they don't understand us, they treat us like scrap and we… we're fighting our own mecha out there. Why are we even here?"
Fireflight sat down next to his friend. "What else would we do?"
"We'd stay out of it," Slingshot said. "If the Autobots don't want our help then I don't see why we should help them."
Fireflight didn't say anything else. He wasn't good at a lot of things, but he knew Slingshot and the mech was more likely to have a good conversation with you if you shut up and listened to him instead of giving him an excuse to snap at you.
Eventually Slingshot sighed. "I bet 'Bolt is worried about me."
"Yep," Fireflight said. "But he's always worried."
"I wish he wouldn't be. No amount of his worrying will fix this mess."
Fireflight nodded.
"You can run along now and tell him I'm not dead."
"You don't want company?"
"Pit, no."
"But are you all right?"
It was a dangerous question to ask and Fireflight knew that. But Slingshot didn't even snap at him. Instead, the silence stretched out between them like the open sky, until Slingshot finally spoke.
"I can still feel my spark pulsing too fast. I can still feel the walls closing in around me…and I can still feel…" he shuddered.
Fireflight didn't dare move.
Silence again.
"Go," Slingshot said. "Tell Silverbolt I'll be all right and that I'll come to our quarters before the orn is over. I'm going to watch the stars come out first."
"Okay," Fireflight got up slowly. "Slingshot?"
"Yeah?"
Fireflight needed to say something—something profound and helpful that would make his brother feel better, that would heal him.
But he couldn't think of anything.
"I… I mean… I just want you to know. If you decide you don't want to do this, I'll back you. I mean—if I remember to. Because… what you want to do matters. And you should make the decision for yourself."
Slingshot stared at him.
"It's like Optimus says—no one should be forced to fight for someone else's cause. If this isn't your cause, then you shouldn't be forced to stay here."
Slingshot sighed. "It's like you said. Where else would I go? Now frag off and leave me in peace."
Fireflight stood and leaped off the roof as he transformed. He should go find Silverbolt now and tell him that Slingshot was online and would join them after he'd spent some time alone, watching the stars blink on in the sky.
Ratchet made sure he was ready. Files open on his computer, equipment running properly. Everyone else in the medbay was taken care of and wouldn't need his attention. Most injured mecha were kept in the larger annex of the medbay and Ratchet only had a few in the smaller one where he spent most of his time.
The door opened and Pharma came in, followed by a few guards escorting the combiner team. They were in very bad shape. One of them had a nasty energon-stained hole in his side, and another was missing a hand.
"Primus, Pharma, you didn't say they were this badly hurt." He'd started seeing soldiers—Decepticon prisoners no less—who had wounds less severe than that one. This mech must have been missed because they put the combiner team somewhere different from the others.
"You get over here so I can patch that up." He beckoned to the badly damaged mech, but the Decepticon shook his helm.
"Him first," he said, nodding toward the red and white mech with the missing hand.
Ratchet huffed and came over to scan the gaping wound. "He's fine," he said. "This has higher priority." He winced at the readings. This could take joors to sort out. "I think I'll need to keep you here for a few orns, to make sure you heal properly. This is worse than it looks and that's saying something. Can I access your pain grid?"
The mech hesitated, then reluctantly allowed him access. Ratchet reduced the pain to nearly nothing. Then, curious, he went over to scan the red and white mech, who shied away from him as he approached.
"Hold still, I'm just checking to see how badly hurt you are." His optics were dull, which probably just meant he needed energon. That could explain how heavily he was leaning on his brother.
Ratchet scanned him and the little mech twitched as if he could feel the scan.
Primus…He commed Pharma.
"Yes?"
"This mech's spark is failing."
"What?" Pharma said out loud.
"Changed my processor," Ratchet said. "You first. Quickly."
He ushered the mech over to the nearest empty berth and helped him sit down on it.
"Hey," Pharma said quietly, putting a hand on the mech's trembling shoulder. "What's your designation?"
"F-First Aid," he stuttered and Ratchet realized he was probably terrified. Well, that was no surprise—not when the last 'medic' this mech had seen was Shockwave.
"Don't worry," Pharma said. "You're going to be all right."
"He's in a lot of pain," Ratchet said. "It's tricky because it's localized in his spark chamber. Could you manage that while I get him on spark support?"
Pharma scanned First Aid. "Oh, Primus," he said. "This… Ratchet, something's not right about this."
"Well, obviously," Ratchet said, pulling over a spark support machine. "And that gestalt bond is probably the only thing keeping him conscious right now."
"No, come look at this."
Ratchet stopped and came back over so Pharma could show him the readings from the scan.
Pharma spoke over the internal comm. "It's not normal spark failure, his spark's not fluctuating enough, and his tanks are malfunctioning, and it looks like his energon is running all wrong too."
Hmmm…
"And spark failure's normally faster than this. His spark shouldn't be this weak unless it's right about to collapse. His bond might be helping keep him online, but even so, these readings are insane. He ought to be in stasis."
That was true. But then again, it could have something to do with the whole gestalt thing. Ratchet hadn't done much with the other gestalt besides repairing their wounds, so he didn't know how that worked.
"I think we should do a deeper scan before we start hooking him up to anything," Pharma said. "Just to make sure we know what we're doing."
Ratchet hesitated. "His spark's weak enough that a deep scan could damage him."
"What's going on?" one of the others asked.
"Your brother's spark is weaker than it ought to be," Ratchet said. "We're trying to figure out how to help him. You, First Aid—do you have any unusual medical conditions you know of?"
The mech seemed to consider that.
"Besides being reformatted into a giant monster," Ratchet said, frowning as he realized something was wrong with the mech's faceplate too. It was warped and discolored at the edges.
"I… um…"
"He's only two and a half vorns old," one of the others said.
Ratchet turned slowly to face him. "Excuse me?" he said.
"Shockwave upgraded him prematurely," the mech said. "He's supposed to be a youngling still."
"Primus beneath," Pharma said. "But… younglings can't have bonds other than guardian bonds."
Ratchet looked back at the frightened mech sitting on the berth.
Pharma continued. "How would Shockwave…"
"Pharma, go change the settings on that spark support machine to match a youngling's metabolism," Ratchet said.
"Right," Pharma said. "Are you sure he's only…"
"It matches with his spark strength. Now," he said, trying to sound comforting. "First I'm going to stop your spark from hurting so much, all right? And then we're going to help you recharge. Does that sound all right?"
First Aid nodded, and Ratchet accessed his pain grid. He turned the mech's sensory receptors down slowly until all of them were completely off, and then helped the mech lie down.
He was unconscious before they even got him on spark support.
Once Ratchet was certain First Aid was stable, he backed off.
He wanted to throw something.
"What?" Pharma said asked, raising an optic ridge at him.
"I am going to kill him," Ratchet said. "I can't believe this! A youngling? He did this to a youngling? That sparkless…" Ratchet slammed his fists down onto an empty wheeled cart. He wasn't sure who to hate. Shockwave had been such a good mech, and the Council had destroyed him and now he was upgrading younglings prematurely and bonding them into gestalts.
Horror sank deep into his spark. He couldn't even imagine how awful that had been, or what that would do to you. No wonder the mechling was halfway into spark failure.
Ratchet took in a deep vent and turned around. "You," he snapped, pointing at the mech with the side injury. "What's your designation?"
"Streetwise."
"Get over here!" Ratchet waved him to another empty berth. The mech looked a little nervous, but limped over.
The others watched with anxious or mistrustful expressions as Ratchet repaired Streetwise. It took more than a joor, and Ratchet was still angry by the end of it.
And he still didn't know what to do about First Aid.
He checked over the others. All of them showed the effects of minor spark trauma and most of them had superficial injuries, which he dealt with before going to check on First Aid again.
"So…" the one designated Hot Spot approached him. "You… wanted to study us, didn't you?"
"That will have to wait," Ratchet said. "I have to figure out what to do about this."
"He's doing better than he was," Hot Spot said. "Thank you, by the way, for repairing us."
"I'm not done yet," Ratchet said. "And First Aid's only doing better because he's on spark support."
"Is he offlining?" Groove asked quietly.
"I don't know," Ratchet said. "I'm surprised he's not offline already—a youngling's spark can't take the burden of a full frame and a gestalt bond on top of that… Pit... I'll find a way to fix this, though."
"If…" Hot Spot said. "If you can find a way to reverse it—to break the bond…"
"The trauma would probably offline him," Ratchet said. "Does he have creators? Could we contact them?"
"They're probably still in Kaon," Hot Spot said. "His bond with them is gone, and I wouldn't know how to find them."
"I might need to do some sort of spark surgery… you need permission from a youngling's creators…"
"You care a lot about the legalities," Blades said.
Ratchet glared at him. "I care about mecha losing their sparklings."
"I doubt we'll be able to find his creators," Pharma came over to rejoin the conversation. "But the Prime could make Hot Spot his legal caretaker."
Ratchet nodded, then turned off the energon drip. First Aid's levels were still very low, but his tanks weren't processing it right, so he didn't want to give the youngling too much.
He had other things he needed to do. There were still a lot of injured mecha—though they'd worked on all of the life-threatening cases already.
Well, except for this one.
"I have things to work on," he said. "And I can't have you three under pede."
They were obviously unhappy about that, but Ratchet didn't have the patience for their protesting. He ordered the guards to take the three uninjured mecha back to their cell.
These mecha weren't like the last combiner the Autobots had captured at all. Judging by what they'd said and their attitude, they probably hadn't volunteered for this.
Well, Shockwave would never get his hands on them again if Ratchet had his way. He commed Optimus. They needed to make Hot Spot First Aid's legal caretaker so Ratchet could operate on him.
"Soundwave! Soundwave!"
I stopped in the doorway and held up a hand to catch Ratbat as he flew clumsily through the atmosphere toward me.
He hit his helm on my arm and I had to drop my datapad to catch him before he fell.
"Calm down," I said.
"You won't believe what happened," he grinned up at me. "I figured it out!"
I put him on my shoulder and bent down to pick up my datapad. "Figured out what?" I asked, though I already knew.
"How to read! Frenzy was trying to teach me and all of a sudden… I figured it out! I'm going to learn to read all the words. I'm going to learn all of them!"
Something stirred inside of me—something that reminded me of times before the war had started.
Isn't it exciting? "Soundwave I can read!"
"Hmm," I set him down on my desk.
"I taught him," Frenzy climbed up to the desk as well. I'm a really great teacher.
"You did not," Rumble said. "He figured it out on his own."
"He's not smart enough to do that."
"Aren't you proud of me?" Ratbat asked.
I looked at him.
I guess… Ratbat thought. I guess it's not really that impressive. I mean, Soundwave can read better than anyone… I thought I could…
"Good job," I said. "You learn quickly."
He perked up again. "I do?"
Too quickly. Far too quickly.
"Thank you!" Ratbat said. "Can you teach me some words Frenzy doesn't know?"
"Not right now."
He was disappointed again. "Why are you always so busy?"
I stopped what I was doing and looked at him. Something about him…
He's mad at me. Oh no… what did I say? Ratbat hunched over, raising his wings to shield himself. "I'm sorry," he said quietly. "I'll stop complaining. Ravage says I complain too much." I hate it here. I wish I had more friends to play with.
"Ratbat?" I said.
He peeked out from under his wings.
"You have Rumble and Frenzy and Ravage and Laserbeak here. Why are you feeling lonely?"
Ratbat wasn't sure.
He didn't think like a symbiont. But he didn't really think like a youngling either.
He was something else—somewhere in between.
And his thoughts were so innocent that it was easy to forget his spark was the same as that of the mech who'd destroyed my best friend.
Had Searchlight been like this? This innocent? This helpless?
Ratbat got to grow up with a bunch of symbionts. He got to learn how to read. Shockwave had given him the necessary upgrades to understand spoken language.
Searchlight had woken up in the mines, with nothing.
I had yet to see the senator in my new symbiont the way I could see Searchlight in Megatron, but maybe it was just a matter of time.
I didn't want to think about the alternative—the possibility that wiping someone's memories meant they were really gone.
"I'm sorry," Ratbat said again.
"You haven't done anything wrong."
He's annoying, Laserbeak thought.
He did do something wrong, Ravage glared from the corner. He hurt Searchlight.
Megatron commed me and I answered immediately.
"Soundwave, meet me in Shockwave's lab," he said. "I need you to verify something."
I took in a deep vent. "Acknowledged."
Ratbat stopped hiding behind his wings when I stood up. "Are you going already?"
"Yes."
"Where are you going?" Frenzy asked. "Can we come?"
Definitely not. I shook my helm and left.
I always kept my range close in Shockwave's lab, and even then there was a sort of sterile horror just hanging in the atmosphere. Not to mention all the ambient spark energy from his experiments, which felt uncomfortably similar to mecha offlining. It was so strong that sometimes even normal mecha could smell it.
I wasn't sure exactly where in Shockwave's lab Megatron was waiting, but it only took a few astroseconds of checking cameras to find him. I wasn't sure I wanted to 'verify' anything Shockwave was doing, but I obediently made my way through his lab.
I met them in a hallway outside of a private cell.
"Soundwave," Megatron said in greeting.
I nodded, cautiously expanding my range to cover the cell's occupant.
I didn't recognize his processor, though I picked up who he was from the minds of the other two.
Shockwave claims that after going through shadowplay Blackangle's entirely loyal to me now. Megatron thought. But I haven't forgotten how easy it was to turn Shockwave on Neurosis. I need you here to make sure this mech is loyal.
"Shall we enter now, Lord Megatron?" Shockwave said. I still do not understand why it was necessary to have Soundwave here.
Megatron nodded and Shockwave put in the key for the door.
Blackangle looked up as we entered. His optics widened as he recognized Megatron and his emotional core filled with a paralyzing sense of awe and reverence. He got up from the berth he'd been sitting on and knelt before the warlord, bowing his helm, speechless.
I can't even believe he's come to visit me. I would not be surprised if he killed me for my gross betrayal…
"Stand," Megatron said.
Blackangle rose slowly to his pedes, though he kept his optics lowered. "Lord Megatron."
"Blackangle," Megatron said. "Shockwave tells me you've seen the error of your ways."
"My Lord," Blackangle said, shame filling his core and drowning everything else out. "I cannot begin to express my feelings. I… you ought to have killed me for betraying you. I will do it myself if you wish."
"That won't be necessary," Megatron frowned. This mech is insane, which is a pity. Shockwave must have gone too far. Then again, Shadowplay always seems to do that.
"Then I only ask that you forget the mech I was before," Blackangle said. "I would serve you, Lord Megatron, with all of my spark. Whatever you ask, to atone for my betrayal."
Megatron looked at me. This sounds almost staged. Is he serious?
I nodded once, though something about him was different from other shadowplay patients I'd listened to in the past.
"Shockwave," I said mildly. "What did you do to him?"
"Are you familiar with the technique of shadowplay?" Shockwave asked.
"This is different." I looked up at the one-opticed scientist.
"Neurosis's methods were inefficient," Shockwave said. "He removed all emotions, and then attempted to rebuild from the ground up. But I implemented a new method, where only some emotions were removed, and others were merely replaced. Furthermore, if you are comparing the two of us, I was recalibrated for logic and creation, which have no loyalty. My goal with Blackangle was to produce a loyal servant."
But did he succeed? Megatron wondered.
"Lord Megatron," Blackangle said, bowing again. "I am at your disposal—do with me as you wish."
Megatron looked at me. "Soundwave what do you think?"
Blackangle's attention flickered to me. This mech has always been loyal, and a close confidant of Lord Megatron's. I should have been more like him.
"He is loyal," I said.
He seems to have lost some of his cunning. Megatron frowned. I can't reinstate him as head of the Quantum division. What should I do with him? Any ideas, Soundwave?
I sent Megatron a private comm. "I believe he will accomplish any task you set him to, though he is unstable and obsessed. Too loyal in a way."
Megatron nodded. That sounds about right.
"Thank you for your willingness, Blackangle. I will give you some more time to recover before we put you to work, but I will find a way for you to be of service to this cause."
"Thank you, Lord Megatron," Blackangle said.
I followed Megatron and Shockwave out into the hall, still listening to Blackangle in the room behind us.
I can't believe Lord Megatron actually came to speak to me in person. And it sounds as if he may even forgive me… either that or he has some suitable torture for me to punish my crimes… either way I will accept his will on the matter.
I pulled my range in.
"Thank you, Shockwave," Megatron said. "It seems Blackangle's reprogramming has been successful."
Shockwave nodded. "It is nearly complete. Though I am uncertain why, there is a tradition at the end of shadowplay called empurada, in which—"
"I know," Megatron said. "That won't be necessary in this case. Blackangle will not be one of your assistants or bodyguards, and I would prefer it if he didn't look like them."
Shockwave nodded.
I have other things to see to. We attack Nova Cronum next orn. This time we will not lose. Megatron left, but I lingered. While I was here, I might as well ask Shockwave a few questions.
"How is Ratbat?" Shockwave said. "I would like to observe him at some point."
Protective protocols activated in my processor. "He is fine," I said. "If you need details, ask me and I'll write a report." There was no way I'd let him touch any of my symbionts, even Ratbat.
Shockwave nodded. I see. I should have spent time observing him before I returned him.
"There is a concern," I said grudgingly.
He perked up. "What is it?"
"He does not act like a symbiont," I said. "He acts almost like a mechling."
Shockwave nodded thoughtfully. That is interesting. I managed to shrink his spark and his processor is that of a symbiont so he should not have higher-functioning thoughts, but perhaps there is something intrinsically different about the spark of a mech, regardless of size. I will have to study that. "I can attempt to correct it if you wish," Shockwave said.
"No thank you," I replied.
I wonder if there's a way to repair the connection between Soundwave's voice box and his processor.
I was done here.
I shook my helm and left.
I do not understand why mecha are so averse to scientific progress. Shockwave thought. Repairing the connection would be beneficial and it is not logical for him to refuse me. But I must comply with their wishes in order to receive the resources I need.
Shockwave, unlike his latest successful experiment, was not loyal to the Decepticon cause.
But I wasn't worried about him leaving, or defecting to the Autobots. They would never allow him to perform his experiments.
I went back to my quarters to rejoin my symbionts.