Transformers: Prime

Brave New World - Gilded Earth

"Where there is life, there will always be morality. The most difficult aspect about life, and saving life, is understanding that what is right is not necessarily moral, because 'right' greatly depends on personal perspective of the moment while morality is the culmination of cultural compromises. And it is difficult, if nigh impossible, to weigh one against the other."

- Quote taken from 1,001 Selected Lectures from Mer-cee, pg 523

Chapter 13: What is right

"No! I won't do it!"

Ratchet grit his denta at Wheeljack's deafening obstinance. He wanted nothing more than to throw the paint can at the wrecker but cool professionalism helped him maintain his demeanour. He did narrow his eyes though, and glare over June's shoulder.

"Wheeljack, this isn't up for debate."

"What you're planning on doing is basically suicide!"

Ratchet was eternally grateful that June didn't know Cybertronian, yet, or else she most likely would have had a fit. As it was, she still flinched when his hand twitched at the accusation, and the stray paint drops scattered across her neck.

"Sorry," he muttered and quickly returned to his careful application of the final layer of paint.

June didn't reply. She seemed to be under the impression that she was unable to speak with all her vents and intakes closed, a precaution she naturally did when this process first started. Ratchet hadn't yet explained that Cybertronians certainly weren't limited to that degree when communicating, like humans were. That was fine with him though. He had his hands full arguing with the wrecker.

"It won't be that dangerous. I have a plethora of experience that I can easily impart without it affecting my processor at all."

"And her? What about her?"

"As a new-spark, her memory files are virtually untouched."

"I don't believe that! She lived her whole life as a human before this. That has to take up some space."

"It does. But rest assured, Wheeljack, with the tests I conducted I've concluded that there is plenty enough data storage available for this procedure."

"ONE full test. Just one! And it lasted less than a half-sol. There has got to be information you're missing!"

Ratchet gave a long-winded sigh. "As I said," he grunted as he pulled away from June and turned off the paint sprayer. "She's a new-spark. The majority of her information pathways are blank. She doesn't even understand Basic Body."

Wheeljack started at that. A short wave of surprise and disbelief came from him. "Wait, what? How could she not… know? That's…"

"Impossible?" Ratchet finished lowly. He stepped past June, who was obediently standing still but dared to twist her helm to follow him and this worthless conversation. Handing the used paint sprayer to the other Autobot, he growled, "I'm getting real tired of hearing that word."

Wheeljack just frowned. He was silent for a moment, then spoke again, "Both the Scientific Advancement and Medical Imperiums would have you helm for this."

"Good thing they don't exist anymore."

Utter astonishment washed over the medic's EM field before the wrecker checked himself. "I'm surprised," Wheeljack spoke softly. "Of all the mech's I knew, you were the last I'd guess to just dismiss the Imperiums' rules. You of all people know why the Imperiums' existed. You were even part of them for a while."

"That was before the war," Ratchet ground out.

"And after, if I recall correctly."

Primus, this mech just wouldn't let it go! Unwilling to listen any longer, Ratchet started walking away. Infuriatingly, Wheeljack continued on in an almost desperate bid to get him to change his mind.

"One of the few medics that had chosen a side and still decided to uphold the creedences, even though Zeta had made it clear that rebels were to be left for dead. You had argued for a strict upholding of the rules on both sides. And now you're just abandoning all that?"

"This is war, Wheeljack!"

Ratchet spun around in his fury. His plating had puffed out, and his vents opened wider to let his built-up heat escape. Practically spitting, he shouted, "I did what I thought best then. And I'm doing what I think is best now. Times have changed. Everything has changed now with that new weapon of Megatron's. The Imperiums can get smelted for as useful as they've been during this pit-spawned war. So I am not going to let one more innocent life be manipulated and destroyed by that monster any more than it has been. If I can give her a better chance, anything to let her survive this hell, I'll do it. I can afford to lose a few memories of a practice I have done, even before you stepped into an engineering lab. It is of no consequence to me."

Ratchet lost the staring contest. He had forgotten how aggressive Wheeljack's stone faced scowl was when faced with authority. Abruptly he turned and continued his march, though it felt more like a retreat. He couldn't even get three steps away before Wheeljack called out.

"And that's why the Imperiums were created, Doc. Just so you don't forget."

He hadn't forgotten. That was his problem. If he had, Ratchet was sure he wouldn't be feeling this way. He wouldn't be struggling and regretting each and every tiny slip down that accursed slope. Oh, it had been a long time coming. He was old, quite old, and his youthful optimism had been eroded away long, long ago. It was only his stringent, hard-nosed sense of morality that had kept him away from such desperate, radical practices, but it seemed that too was steadily deteriorating over the course of this Fallen-cursed war. Ratchet thought he had corrected himself after that disastrous synthetic energon fiasco, but the last two sols had only shown how desperate he truly was. First he took a huge risk in waking a new-spark early to satisfy his own curiosity. And now he was preparing to lose parts of himself, and risk the new-spark's development, in a bid to mitigate danger to her. Danger that came from the outside. He didn't, couldn't, possibly know what issues may arise that would affect her internally. And that was the crux of the former engineer's current attitude.

But he had no idea what else to do.

So he ignored it all and continued plodding forward. His old struts and bearings didn't ache anymore, but somehow he still felt weak and decrepit.

"I'm tired," he announced. "I'm going to recharge, then I'll get to working on sorting those memory files. And it's my decision, Wheeljack."

The wrecker's face did an odd spasm when he wasn't allowed to butt in. With a snarl, he replied, "Yeah, but does she know all the risks of a P-2-P Data Transfer? And try as you might, this is not something you can do on your own!"

"Which is why I require your assistance."

And Ratchet left it at that. He finally walked into the Jackhammer and sat down. It was a long time before he could slip into recharge, but he blamed Wheeljack's excessive banging and muted cursing for that.

June was getting real tired of just standing around. She knew it wasn't the 'bots intentions, but leaving her alone after their argument did not help her anxiety. She didn't know what they were saying, but she had the strongest feeling it somehow involved her. That wasn't much of a surprise, though, as she was clearly the odd one out in this little group. Being a complete amature to the world of Cybertronians clearly puts them at a disadvantage, even she could understand that. That thought hurt more than it should have, but she pushed those feelings of vexation, guilt, and anger aside.

She didn't ask for this, any of this. Right now she was just merely going with the flow according to her best judgement, because quite honestly, this was a situation no human would be able to handle and still stay sane. She was trying to hold on, she honestly was, but right now it seemed that even the smallest decisions weren't up to her anymore. She couldn't even move or else that wrecker, Wheeljack, would snap at her.

June was just tired.

An odd thump and a muttered curse made her twist her head to see what had happened. She could just barely see Wheeljack's outline from around the corner. Curious, and feeling the need to move, she carefully stepped around the ship. What she saw surprised her; Wheeljack had pinned one arm between his forehead and the ship and was leaning into it. She could just barely see the corners of his mouth move, as if he was talking to himself. Or saying a prayer. The slump of his shoulders and the gentle rocking of his movements was so human-like that June could only stare in wonder. How could she have not understood how human these aliens really were? That pose was unmistakable to her. Wheeljack was exhausted.

"Are-" She started, but then changed her question as he spun around, "Is there anything I can do to help?"

It should have been impossible with a metal face, but somehow she believed she could spot a shine of fluid in his eyes. And even more startling his face seemed to pull and twist as he struggled against his own fatigue. When he just stood there slightly swaying, without saying anything, June frowned.

"You need rest," she stated bluntly.

Wheeljack scowled in reply, "I need to finish fixing this."

"No doubt," she agreed. It wasn't as difficult as she thought it would be to keep ahold of her compassion as she tried reasoning with the mech. A few minutes ago she felt like screaming, but after witnessing Wheeljack's personal moment June felt her own problems slightly abate. "And I'm… grateful to you for not blaming me for this mess. But I'm… I'm worried about you. I don't know much about Cybertronians, but to me you look tired. And I'm guessing that one of the rules about flying is to not sleep at the wheel, so even if you do get the ship fixed we wouldn't be able to leave right away."

Unfortunately, Wheeljack's scowl only deepened. "Ratchet knows how to fly."

June moved to cross her arms but winced when her fingertips touched wet paint. Settling for putting them on her hips, she said, "OK, but that still doesn't mean you don't need sleep, er, re-uhh, recharge." She silently kicked herself for the stumble, but then immediately plowed on. "What's the reason you can't do that?"

"I told ya, the ship needs to be fixed." With that, Wheeljack pointedly picked up a tool and forced his arm all the way up to his shoulder into the giant hole. He seemed to fumble around for a bit, completely ignoring the woman.

Taking a deep breath to cool herself down, she asked in a polite tone, "And is that the only reason why? Anything else? Because yes, the ship needs to be fixed, but I'm guessing that the more tired you are, the higher chance for mistakes, right?"

Right on cue, something happened. There was a bang as Wheeljack jerked his arm out and June swore she saw a tiny spark of lightning dance between his fingers. The white mech let loose several high whines and curses as he shook his hand.

June stepped forward in an instinct to help. Startled, the wrecker spun away from her with a growl. She stopped and put her hands back on her hips again.

"You need rest," she growled right back in what Jack referred to as her 'scary mom voice'. She had no idea how she compared intimidation-wise to a black ops soldier, but she knew when to crack down on a patient's stupidity. "So go take a break!"

It seemed that the mech was finally willing to talk. Still rubbing his hand, he stated, "Somebody needs to stand watch. Jackhammer here should be able to fly, but we'll need warning time to get off the ground. The thrusters will need several extra astroseconds to heat up before they can be boosted."

"And we'll be toast if we don't get those seconds," June surmised.

"Either because we burst a line and the energon caught fire, or the 'cons blasted us," he said with fake cheeriness.

June wasn't convinced, though. "Why are you so certain that they'll find us?"

"The energon spill." June looked to where Wheeljack pointed. Faintly she could see the slight blue-ish glow emitting from the burnt and dead grass. "The shields can dampen it, but the radiation is still slowly leaking through. The 'cons have the manpower to investigate every energon trace on this planet, maybe even the solar system. So a 'con is going to come around eventually. I hope to be long gone before that happens."

"OK." June thought for a moment. "So just one person needs to spot them, right?"

"Yeah."

"Great! I'll stand watch then, while you go get some rest."

"It's not that simple!"

"How so?"

"It's… they're flyers! You'll have to be watching the skies, and right now it's starting to get dark."

"They look like airplanes, right? With all the lights and everything? I can totally spot that. Better than you can under that wing fixing that hole."

"There's more to it than that! You- you've got to be aware of their scanners. Sometimes they can send out pulses to better survey what's around them. Sometimes you can't even see them from a distance when they do that."

"But they're not likely to, since they came to investigate one tiny little energon signal, right?"

The look Wheeljack gave her was pretty funny. His mouth was open and he blinked at her several times. Finally he slumped his shoulders and sighed, "You know, you're too quick, right?"

June just snorted, but she couldn't help glowing at her victory. "So it's decided then. I'll stand watch. I'm standing around already, so I want to be at least a little useful."

"I never said-"

"Go to sleep!"

She smirked a little when she heard the snap of his teeth… or whatever passed as teeth for Cybertronians. Turning around, she walked back to her original spot. "Just for a few hours. You'll feel much better. And I promise to wake you in case there's anything suspicious."

"You better," he grumped as he stomped after her. "Anything unusual, you hear? We need that extra time."

"Understood." June gave a little salute and a broad smile.

Wheeljack just pinned her with a long stare before sighing, "Leaving our lives to the rookie." But then he gave her a half-hearted smile in return. "I'll owe you a favor," he said before putting his hand against the side of his ship. Before June could respond, he braced himself then jumped. Scrambling for purchase, he heaved himself to the top of his ship.

June just stared in awe. How he managed to climb slick metal was anyone's guess. Wheeljack looked down at her and grinned. "What? Never seen a wrecker climb?"

"I wouldn't put Bulkhead down as one."

"True, he prefers to stand his ground. On flat ground. But he could surprise even me, sometimes."

June hummed in reply then leaned back to look at the wispy clouds. Immediately she frowned and snapped her head back to the other 'bot.

"Hey!" She accused, "You had better go to sleep and not just be up there to watch the skies. I'm doing that job!"

Something like a crackle from an old radio came from on top of the ship. It took June several seconds to realize that Wheeljack was laughing. She couldn't see him because he was laying down but he raised a lazy hand into the air and replied, "No worries. I'll go into recharge. I just happen to like staring at the stars."

"Uh-huh."

"It's true," Wheeljack's voice grew steadily quieter. "An' here's a tip for ya. Try not to lay down on the ground on organic planets for too long. There's usually creepy-crawlies that'll get stuck in your joints."

June froze at that. Bugs. He was talking about bugs. Crawling inside her. THAT was not an image she wanted, and something she most definitely wanted to avoid experiencing.

"Thanks for the tip," she muttered.

"Anytime, Blue-eyes."

Silence then fell upon the scene. For the first time, June felt that they were really stranded in the wilderness. The oppressive heat of the day only continued to rise even as the sun was quickly setting. June was honestly looking forward to the coolness of the night. The heat helped to dry the paint but it left her feeling too warm and uncomfortable. Cybertronians didn't sweat and she wasn't entirely sure how they managed their internal temperatures so well. Something to learn another time, she supposed.

Shifting her weight, June turned south. She figured if there was going to be any danger, it would most logically come from there. Somehow she felt her insides twist in the same way her real body did when she thought about distressing things. That same quessiness settled in her midsection, while near where her heart was supposed to be was the sharp pang, and to complete the triage of disconcerting feelings, a shiver trailed up her spine. Trying to get the varied racing emotions under control, June closed her fists tightly.

South. That was where her home was. Her few friends, her job, her son. ...Her life. She had to get back there. How or when were the questions of the day, but she knew she had to. June had to see Jasper with her own eyes. It was going to be difficult and she feared that she would have to leave the safety of the Autobots' side. They hadn't said much to her, but June could tell they were worried. Most likely they were going to abandon Earth. That thought gave June another pang of sorrow and fear. They were the only two Autobots left on Earth. If they weren't here to protect humanity from the evil Decepticons' wrath, who would?

June felt a bitter sense of some unnamable feeling settle in her heart. It was true that she hadn't known the Autobots for long, and a lot of it was more antagonistic than it should have been, but what else should she have done? Her only son and two other children got mixed up in an alien war! Optimus promised that they were only trying to protect the children, and June hoped with all her heart that they had. Because if they- if Jack, or Miko, or Raf had died or- or got turned into this…. June wouldn't know who to blame.

But what would she do if Ratchet did decide to leave Earth? June wasn't prepared for that. As sensible as the idea probably was, she just wasn't onboard. Leaving Earth meant leaving literally everything she knew and her heart couldn't take that. But how would she survive living on Earth? Cybertronians needed energon to live, right? She had no idea how to track down the liquid substance. And if she wasn't careful, some humans might attack her out of not-unfounded fear, or worse, she could injure them.

June silently groaned. She was going nowhere with these thoughts. They were all things she had reviewed a dozen times and she still couldn't come up with an answer. There was no easy way out, no proof for her to really know that this was real. June brought her arm up to inspect the new gadget now permanently welded onto her. That whole process shook her up pretty well. It was becoming less and less likely that this was all a dream, but she silently pleaded for it to still be one. Waking up in a hospitable bed even five years later still seemed more reasonable than this world straight out of a H.G. Wells novel.

She glanced at her upper arm, the only part of her arms to get painted. The metal plating that curved around was now a bright, almost sparkling white. At the widest point, several inches below where the arm met the shoulder, was an equally bright and bold red cross. Ratchet had asked her if there were any particular designs she wanted. June could think of nothing but the iconic medical logo. If nothing else, June wanted to appear less threatening to humans, and the bright red cross on a white background was universal. Thankfully, there were no complaints to her request.

A medic. That's what she was now. Well, medic's apprentice, she remembered with a slight grin. Ratchet was quite particular about that. But still, she was dedicated to helping others and she hoped her colors and symbols proved that.

Squinting at the device on her arm, June brushed her fingers over the buttons. The bottom one depressed and June almost jumped when the lid on the mediwrist popped up. It was strange. Even though it looked like the rest of her metal skin, the sensation of it opening up was just like she had taken something out of her pants pocket. It was her, but it really wasn't her. June promptly decided that she could live with the feeling, if only she could ignore the idea that the item was glued to her.

In the fading light of the sun, June could make out images or glyphs on the tiny screen, then sighed when she realized the obvious; it wasn't in English. She made a mental note to ask Ratchet for some sort of translator or beginner's book to basic Cybertronian. Not being able to understand anything was becoming more and more frustrating. Still, even though she couldn't understand the text she randomly pushed the buttons on the side, experimenting with what they could or couldn't do.

This kept her entertained for the next several hours. She quickly caught on to certain, repeating glyphs. Eventually she figured out what had to be an error message and how to return to the home screen. At one point she was startled enough to squeak when a ray of light shot out from her wrist. After a few seconds it went away and that annoying error message came back in full blinking, annoying glory. With a sound between a groan and a sigh, June closed the lid. Rubbing the back of her head, she closed her eyes for a minute. She was getting tired. It wasn't like a headache was forming, she didn't know how such a thing would be possible without blood or muscle, but she did feel sluggish. Like she could only keep track of one train of thought and only for a limited time.

But June ground her teeth. She couldn't fall asleep now, she had promised Wheeljack that she would keep an eye on things. And she had. Every few minutes she would look up to the sky and scan their surroundings, or even take a quick but careful walk around the perimeter. But there was absolutely nothing. Which was a good thing, she supposed, as she slowly dropped her hands and opened her eyes.

She blinked. And blinked again. There, off to the south was some tale-tell lights. She frowned. It wasn't satellites, they were moving too quickly. But it didn't seem like a plane. That queasy feeling came back again and June inched towards the Jackhammer.

"Um, Wheeljack?" She called out quietly.

He didn't answer.

She looked up but she couldn't see him from her position. "Wheeljack!" she called louder. She turned back to watch those mysterious lights. It didn't help her rising panic as they continued on a straight course right for them.

"Wheeljack!" She yelled. This time she struck her fist against the ship's wall and a satisfactory bong resonated with her words. "Wake up! There's something coming!"

Finally, the white mech was on his feet and wasted no time looking to where she was pointing. She didn't understand what cursings he muttered, but in an instant he dropped to the ground. June yelped at his sudden appearance but before she could say a word, he pushed her towards the ramp.

"Get inside!"

There was no need to argue, and June scrambled to do as he said. It was dark, and she hit her shin on one of the many boxes that crowded the space. She had to hold back a few grumpy words of her own.

"What's going on?" A calm and serious voice asked her though the gloom, and June again almost shrieked when glowing blue eyes stared right at her.

June had to put an arm out against the wall to steady herself and took a moment to breath before answering. "Not sure," she said, "But I saw something come flying in from the south."

"It's another ship. Bigger," Was Wheeljack's clipped tone. June snapped her teeth shut at his sudden appearance and tried to brush off this heart-jumping encounter as well. "Fire up the engines," he ordered, "I'm gonna have to manually monitor some of the thruster capillaries."

"Roger that," Ratchet said and he immediately turned around in the pilot's seat.

June was surprised at how calm and efficient the two Autobots worked. It had been less than a minute when she had first called Wheeljack, and already she could feel the ship rumble under her feet.

"You need to stay calm, June." Ratchet didn't even look up from the blinking graphs that he was observing.

"Right," she agreed. Calm, be calm. Tensely, she sat on top of a box and flattened herself against the wall as much as possible. She didn't want to be in anyone's way. She closed her eyes and hugged herself. Thankfully her new look had dried enough to not cause problems, but that was last on her list of things to care about right now. With great effort she reined in her spiking anxiety and tried to tune out the shaking and groaning of the ship. She couldn't screw this up. She couldn't be a distraction. Not while the other two were working so hard.

Breath in. Breath out. A part of her recognized the futility of breathing. This metal body didn't need to circulate air like an organic one did. But still, she breathed. And along with her breath, she focused on that energon exercise; Up, to the side, down to her core, then back up and over, and down to her other wrist. The trembling in her hands didn't stop but they did slow down. And when the ship groaned and shuddered, she managed to stay quiet, even though she was forced to hop off the sliding box.

A moment later, Wheeljack popped through the entrance and uttered all too calmly, "Fill 'er up, slow and steady Doc."

Ratchet merely nodded and moved his fingers across the glowing, holographic display. June saw the graphs rise and lower with rapidly changing glyphs off to the side that she assumed were numbers. Ratchet quickly moved out of the driver's seat and in a smooth motion Wheeljack took his place. Once four of the graphs were at the same level, Wheeljack took the stick shift in hand and pulled it back.

Immediately, the ship began to rise and June quickly found herself sitting back on the box with her knees tucked close to her chest. She wasn't quite sure, as it was unnaturally smooth and steady and unlike the standard take-offs she had experienced as a human, but she was fairly certain that they were flying. She squinted her eyes to look out the window, and yes, the tree tops were shrinking. So why wasn't she experiencing the g-forces like she normally would?

A shrill beep startled her out of her idle thoughts and right after Wheeljack swore in his native tongue again. On a screen that resembled some sort of bendy grid appeared a bright red dot. Ratchet, who was standing on the other side, frowned.

"We were spotted?" He asked all too calmly.

Wheeljack tsked. "We need to get a move on. So brace yourselves."

June's eyes flew wide, and she could only grasp the sides of the container as the missing g-forces instantly multiplied. Wild, screaming thoughts filled her head and she battled with her instinct to panic. No, she didn't want to be the weak link! She didn't want to doom everyone because she distracted Wheeljack again! Tighter and tighter she clutched the box.

Don't distract. Don't distract.

Distal phalanges. Middle phalanges. Proximal phalanges.

We're in the sky. We're in the sky.

Are then connected to the metatarsal bones.

Slow down! Slow down!

Wheeljack jerked on the stick and the ship shuddered then jerked to the right as well. If June could have she would have slapped her hands over her mouth and screamed, but as it was her hands were currently crushing the box she was sitting on. She pushed back her near-overwhelming desire to wail, but when her box decided to shoot toward Ratchet, she had a legitimate reason to shout.

"Watch out!"

Ratchet was thankfully already aware and faster than she could blink, he leaned over and grabbed the out-of-control box. June stopped, wide-eyed and senseless, mere centimeters from Ratchet's face. He stared at her with both a mix of worry and shock.

"Th-" June's voice hitched. Before she could start anew, Ratchet's eyes got even wider and he moved impossibly fast again. The hand that had pinned hers to the box left and rose to her face. June immediately froze. In the next second she heard the terrible smash of metal hitting metal and she flinched.

"You're OK," A soft rumble came from right next to her ear and June opened one eye to see nothing but white. Ever-so-carefully, June tilted back to try and move away from Ratchet's chest.

"Wait," Ratchet commanded. With a groan, he shifted again and June heard something sliding against the floor. Scrambling out of his way, June dropped to the side. She was now pinned between the box and the driver's seat, but that seemed OK for the moment. She wasn't likely to go crashing into anything or anyone like this.

There was a screech of metal when the ship was again violently jerked around and several more boxes crashed into each other. June yelped and curled into a ball. Again, she tried distracting herself into positive thoughts.

Don't distract. Don't distract. Think of Jack. Jack needs you to not screw this up. Don't panic.

She wasn't sure how well she was doing. She was probably failing horribly.

"Could you be a little less crazy, wrecker?"

June looked up to see Ratchet bending over the box to gently lay that giant hammer on the floor. So that's what he caught. June was rather grateful for his quick reflexes, as she knew that her head had to be tougher than before but she really didn't want it tested out.

"I told ya to pack light, sunshine!"

Wheeljack again pulled on the stick and June felt the pressure of gravity against her. Worriedly, she wondered if robots could throw up. But as soon as the pressure and sensation started, it stopped. Some glitchy rumbling came from the wrecker, and Ratchet responded in the same solemn tone. Then something happened that made June freeze. It was quick. If June wasn't trying to focus away from her fear, she would have missed that tiny flash of despair that came from both Autobots, one right after the other.

June stopped thinking. A cold, accepting conclusion settled over her. She probably wasn't going to see Jack again.

"They're catching up to us." She meant to ask it, because she really didn't know. But as she was speaking it simply came out flat and truthful.

Ratchet looked down at her sharply. She didn't meet his eyes.

"The ship's too damaged to out run them… right?"

There was a cold silence, then Wheeljack drawled, "That's right."

June's fingers twitched and she drew her knees closer. "So what do we do?"

Again, the silence was suffocating. It bared down on all of them like a heavy, imminent, doom's-day prophecy. June could practically see the problem and all the predicted outcomes at once in her mind's eye. Very, very few of them had a positive ending.

"I'm a wrecker."

June looked up, but she couldn't see Wheeljack from her position on the floor.

"I'm a wrecker," he repeated, but this time there was some tightness to his voice. Like he was desperate.

June swallowed, but the saliva wasn't there. She breathed, but she couldn't feel her lungs expand. She blinked and stared at her metal hands. Her mind was empty, and she frowned when she didn't know what she was supposed to think of right now. So she could only ask the obvious.

"Then why aren't you fighting?"

There was an immediate spike of agitation from her white companion. A scraping from her other side distracted her, and she saw Ratchet put a hand against the wall. He looked troubled.

June's frown deepened. Something wasn't adding up. What was it? Flipping through her memories, June tried piecing the puzzle together. They were being chased down and were losing the race. She wasn't entirely sure if they got enough time to lift off to avoid detection, but most likely sensors on the other ship had spotted them before she ever could. So the extra time to take off wasn't the problem here. They were unlikely to have ever flown out of the range of ship sensors even if one of the other two experienced veterans were standing watch. Ratchet was inside, sitting in the pilot's chair. He, at the very least, should have gotten an alert from the Jackhammer's systems… but no. The ship was totally dark when June scrambled inside. Nothing was on. Nothing was working. Were the dampers even shielding them? No, they had to be on. If they weren't then they probably would have been swarmed much earlier. And the ship was flying. Not in top condition, but it proved that some basic functions were working.

Some, but apparently not all. With a frown, June got to her knees. Wheeljack's erratic maneuvers had slowed. In fact, he seemed to only focus on going as straight as he could as fast as he could. It was strange. Last time they were flying, the wrecker was pulling any number of stunts to get around the flying Decepticons, even firing back with glee. But right now it seemed as if Wheeljack was only interested in getting away and the mysterious ship was just following. No shots were being fired.

"I told ya, the ship needs to be fixed."

What made the wrecker so insistent on fixing his ship to the point of exhaustion, when it was already capable of flying? Sure, the thrusters weren't in ideal condition, but Wheeljack and Ratchet seemed to overcome that problem quite easily, at least in her non-existent experience on fixing alien spaceships. And the dampers were working well enough to shield three EM fields. If that was part of the ship's defensive systems then there was probably minimal work on those systems, if there was any damage at all.

June wanted to snort at her own stupidity. She couldn't believe how long it took her to reach this conclusion. Idly, her thoughts returned to a moment in time, of what seemed so long ago. She was watching a movie with Jack, some Arthurian-esque tale about knights and castles and maidens in distress. In the epic battle at the end, Jack asked why the knights were so focused on destroying the catapults by sabotage, instead of storming the castle from the very beginning. She had to tell her little boy that the knights were actually really smart. If the enemies didn't have something they could use to hurt the knights, then the knights could storm the castle without worry.

The Jackhammer was a castle without catapults.

Using the back of the pilot's chair to brace herself, June rose to her feet. She looked out the windows to see nothing but blue skies. They were so high up it should have scared her, but instead she focused her energies on answering her own question.

"You're a wrecker," she spoke softly, gently even. There was no judgement to her voice, no panicked pleadings. Just a calm, cold statement of facts. "And you have no weapons. The ship is too badly damaged to fight back. And it appears we're losing ground."

She had no idea what the text was telling the others, but the distance between the two dots on the screen was closing quickly. "We're being run down, but they're not actually firing on us. I have no idea how long this ship can continue, but they'll eventually force us to land. Right now they want us captured, not killed. But you're a wrecker. For you it's better to go down fighting with your ship. But you have two passengers on board, both medics. Well, one highly experienced medic and a wanna-be apprentice," June quickly amended, with a sad half-smile. It was wiped away with her next words, and the seriousness in her tone matched the seriousness of the conclusion. "There's no good way out of this situation. What you feel you need to do is contradicted by what logic is telling you to do."

June's emotions caught up with her and she failed to bat them away. Fear mixed with sadness, and the ever present doubt bolstered her desires. She gripped the back of the seat and Wheeljack twitched. After a moment's hesitation, she whispered, "I don't want to die, Wheeljack. ...This still doesn't seem like reality to me, but despite that I don't want to find out what dying is really like. ...Will you listen to me?"

June was worried she had offended Wheeljack. Maybe she shouldn't have said things so bluntly, or maybe the hardened soldier was disgusted by her childish pleadings. She didn't know. Wheeljack was an iron wall to her right now. He was glaring straight ahead with both hands gripping the steering wheel. To make it worse, she could feel Ratchet's stare from behind her. He was so close that if she put her hand back she would no doubt touch him. But his feelings on the matter were silent as well. She had no idea if she was stepping out of line by pleading for his life, too.

Without warning, Wheeljack's grip slackened and the wrecker leaned back into his seat. He cocked his head up, and with a debonair grin said, "I hear ya, Blue-eyes. So what'cha thinking?"

A gasp escaped the former human. She couldn't exactly relax in this situation but great relief cleared her raging emotions. Relaxing her own grip on the pilot's chair, June gave Wheeljack an honest but brief smile.

"We contact the other ship," she stated solemnly. "Tell them that there are two medics on board and that we surrender. When we're clear of the Jackhammer, you should be free to… do whatever wreckers do."

"Not the worst plan," Wheeljack agreed. June was grateful for his swift reply. But when she turned to see Ratchet's confirmation, she was startled.

Ratchet looked downright fierce, with bright, nearly white optics and the biggest scowl she had ever seen on the crotchety medic. He started at her, then solemnly shook his head. "No. I- I can't. This isn't just about the three of us. There's also the Forge. If that is returned to Megatron's hands, then the Autobots will surely have no hope left."

"The forge?" June glanced around. Ratchet hadn't told her anything like that before. Her eyes landed on that giant golden hammer. Ratchet was standing over it protectively, as if June was going to be stupid enough to run away with it.

"The only relic of even having a chance against the Omega Lock at this point. And it's better to not have it at all, then for one more powerful item to fall into that tyrant's hands. And I have to make sure that happens."

June narrowed her eyes at that. "No." She refused. Ratchet had ducked his head to avoid her gaze.

"We'll make sure you're safely out of the blast radius, Ju-"

"NO!" The female spun around fully with all her hurt and rage. "Don't you finish that! Don't- Don't be stupid and going off to leave me behind. I can't- I don't know what I'm doing Ratchet! I don't even know what I am anymore, so you just can't leave me!"

"It's for the best-"

"No it's not! How could you believe that? Are you really that caught up in the idea of winning and losing that you're just going to give your life up to prevent Megatron from having a-a-a thing? An item?"

"It's not just that," Wheeljack butted in tersely.

"Oh, it's not?" June asked sarcastically. "Forgive me for thinking otherwise, as I'm a total stranger to Cybertronian customs. But here on Earth we value life."

"And so do we!" Ratchet raised his voice. He immediately dropped it, but it quivered as he continued to speak. "Optimus valued this planet and its inhabitants. He even called it home. He did everything he could to protect it from the Decepticon threat. But I fear he's made the ultimate sacrifice in his attempt to protect the Earth. So it's the least I can do to follow through with this."

"No," June's own voice was unrecognizable to her through the harsh static. "It's not! You- you need to teach me, Ratchet. I can't be a medic on my own!"

That seemed to give the Autobot pause. June wanted to plead with him, beg them both to not do what they thought they needed to do, and instead do what was right. She couldn't let them die. Not like this! Not because the ship was damaged and they couldn't outrun or fight back. Not because she-

A shrill beep made her jump and June whipped her head around. Wheeljack had touched a symbol and static filled the ship's speakers.

"What are you doing?" She demanded. Sharp, stinging betrayal shot through her and she thought she might just collapse from the agonizing hurt and impending future.

"We both thought of and agreed to this idea, June." Ratchet answered. His voice had returned to its unusually soft and caring tone. June refused to turn around. She didn't want to see that wretched, dejected face of his.

"Well I didn't agree," She snapped back.

There was no answer to that. Ratchet just continued his apology. "I'm sorry I wasn't able to give you the information you need to become a medic. If the Decepticons believe you are truly capable of being one, they might just train you. But you'll have to be-" Ratchet hesitated. June could almost hate him for saying those words. But with his next, she forgave him. "You're a strong femme, June. You'll survive. And I know you'll find Jack."

June couldn't stand it anymore. She flung herself around, ramming herself into Ratchet's chest and hitting her shin on a box. But she didn't care for her bruised leg or Ratchet's flare of surprise. Knocking her forehead into his shoulder, she squeezed her eyes shut.

"Please," she whispered. But she knew it was futile. She couldn't change his mind. It would take a miracle to get out of this situation.

A scrambling of sounds emitted across the tiny space, and June wasn't sure what to make of it. Whatever parts that were Cybertronain got lost in the static, so she had absolutely no way to piece together a single word. But the other two could hear it just fine, and she felt Ratchet stiffen under her. He rumbled something lowly and Wheeljack barked in laughter.

The wrecker drawled in English, probably for June's own benefit. "I thought you were tired of hearing that word, Doc."

An arm snaked around June's shoulder and gave her a tight squeeze, before Ratchet gently began pulling her off. June refused. She knew she was being stubborn and stupid but she honestly couldn't care. This idiot was going to go off and get-

"June, it's OK."

"No, it's not!"

She didn't want to believe the sudden change in Ratchet's mood. He had claimed earlier that EM fields couldn't really lie, but she had a hard time believing that right now. How could he be so happy and relaxed when their impending doom was drawing closer?

"It's Ultra Magnus," he stated as if that cleared everything up.

"Huh?" June snapped her head up. That was enough for Ratchet to successfully push her off and give them some space, much to her disappointment.

"He was Optimus Prime's second-in-command during the war on Cybertron."

"Huh?"

"He's an Autobot ally."

"...Huh?"