A/N: Quick update! Sorry if there's errors in this chapters, but I really wanted to get it out. Feel free to point out mistakes if you see them and I'll try to fix them.
And incase any of you are wondering about how time works in this series and the Cybertronian to Earth equivalents, I try to base it off official units of time as found on the Transformer's wiki, but I believe I've used some terms interchangeably, such as; megacycle and joor. Both of these are roughly the equivalent of an hour, but a joor is precisely an hour and fifteen minutes and is the standard 'universal' hour, while a megacycle is around fifty-five minutes on Earth, though it can change depending on the planet (I'll explain what I mean in further detail later in the story). An astrosecond is approximately 0.5 of a second. A klick is 1.2 minutes. A bream (or breem, I might be spelling it differently) is 8.3 minutes. But considering the inconsistency of even official stuff, feel free to ask me if you have questions about how time and the tracking of it works in this story. I'm bound to make mistakes and I appreciate you pointing things out or asking about things that don't make sense.
Transformers: Prime
Brave New World - Gilded Earth
Notice: Atte-on all local Decepti- for-s. Orders to merge at local -ordinates 41°52′55″N 87°37′40″W for military action.
Notice: Orders to ki-l -l humans on sight.
Notice: Exceptions includ- Jackson Darby, Rafael Es- -lan Gould. Except- include any collared sl-ves.
Notice: Orders to surround and des-y -man city known as -go.
Notice: Orders effective immediately.
- Intercepted Decepticon broadcast. Decode and file? Y/N
Chapter 15: The whispers
It was a dark, hazy fog that June wandered through. She couldn't recall how she ended up in this dream-like world, but a persistent feeling told her that she willingly walked into it. Out of the muddled darkness came bright flashes of images and sound of things that were completely alien to her. Garbled static shouts mixed with the droning buzz of lectures. Diagrams and x-rays popped up in countless waves with the accompanying data becoming clearer with each new surge. Conversations from the breakroom and stuttering verbal tests created the backbone- spinal shaft- of her communications. Gestures, feelings, and the nuances of Cybertron were clearer to her as each bream passed. How could she have missed all those social cues? She was a complete slugbot- but she was human... Wasn't she?
She was human.
Humans didn't have this… this sixth sense with which to communicate. They used verbality, tone, and expressions, not this open field of which there were limitless pathways to direct her thoughts and feelings. It was alien. It was far too alien.
Just when June thought her panic had reached a peak, all of the images, thoughts, and feelings she had experienced so far abruptly cut off. They were strategically folded and filed away, with each box being carefully, even caringly, numbered and marked. Sometimes she could feel a scowl of embarrassment when some files, like from the early days of university, were crammed together.
Not the highlight of my career, but I had to start somewhere.
There was a note of shame and bitter failure when the first patient died on the table. June cried. That shouldn't have happened. But it was the cost of experience.
Learn. Learn from my mistakes.
Abruptly, that memory was also sealed off. She shouldn't touch it until she had learned the basics first.
All the other memories were also sealed. She could barely fathom the techniques and snap decisions of the field medic as the fear and panic were quashed in an effort to save just one more fighter in the midst of battle. The attentiveness of listening for the commanding officer's orders became just as important to her as did ignoring the plantitive cries of the wounded.
But she wasn't at war! She wasn't on a side! She… she was a medic. She only wanted to care for the sick and injured.
And she was a mother. Her priority was Jack.
June found herself standing alone in front of the hospital's doors. It was the very same hospital she had spent a decade working at. A little confused, she turned to look around and saw no vehicles in the parking lot. That wasn't right. The hospital was always staffed.
Slowly and hazily, as if the sun was beating down so hard that a mirage was forming in front of her, a familiar ambulance rolled to a stop at the curb. She frowned at it, confused as to why no one was getting out, or delivering a new patient. After several seconds of just waiting, June felt to walk toward it. But the ambulance backed up.
Go inside.
June felt an invisible push and she shuddered. That was weird. This had to be a dream. But still, she followed that directive. She pushed the doors of the hospital open and found a familiar sight. There were the same brown and cream tiled floors, with the brown cushioned chairs lined up against the wall, and the front desk that was simultaneously intimidating and inviting. No one was around though, and no music was playing. It was off-putting, and June quickly hurried to the desk. Everything was much as she remembered it; clean, organized, and with files and paperwork stacked in somewhat hazardous columns. She sat down in the chair and rolled up to the computer.
She input her name, but blinked in surprise when her password didn't work. June tried it again. And again she was denied. A concerned frown formed on her lips. She didn't remember changing her password. So immediately she turned to the numerous binders and found one that she used often. But instead of the stickynotes she would leave for herself and other staff, she found slick, metallic pages that seemed impossibly delicate but sturdy. On the pages were lines and lines of embossed characters. It wasn't English but as she continued to stare at them, the words and sentences made themselves clear on their own. She flipped back to the cover and on the front it now said Encyclopedia of Anatomy, vol. 1.
June looked up at the stacks and stacks of information. Volumes upon volumes of what was apparently only the start of her education. She sat back in wide-eyed disbelief. This would take a lifetime to learn. Maybe multiple lifetimes.
As if handling a bomb, June carefully set the binder down on the desk. She saw her trembling hands and intertwined her fingers to keep them steady. It didn't work. She needed air. She stood up quickly and walked to the doors. When she pushed them open she was greeted with bright, blinding white light and June blacked out.
A garbled voice spoke to her through the fog of her mind, and June squinted. When the same voice spoke louder, she frowned.
"You know, that's not the wisest choice of words to tell a patient."
Ratchet hovered above her with the cybertronian equivalent of a pen-light in his hand. He blinked at her several times in surprise that matched the stunned EM field. When June moved to sit up, he put the light away and assisted her.
"Whoa," June muttered. Vertigo filled her head- helm, and she brought a hand- servo up to brace herself.
"Easy does it," Ratchet commanded though it was soft and sincere. "You need to let your systems recalibrate before you move around."
"Right, pressure line equilibrium." June stared at the floor beneath her, unaware of the other bots' reactions. She only knew she had a headache- an overloaded processor- and just needed to slow down for a minut- klick.
There was a low rumble that June identified as discomposure from the wrecker, though Wheeljack's words didn't align with the feeling. "So it worked," he stated flatly. June risked a look and saw that he was leaning charastically against the wall with his arms crossed and lipplates pressed firmly together into a scowl.
"All the better," that new mech, Ultra Magnus said. "Now we can focus on finishing fixing the Jackhammer."
"Wait, it's still not fixed?" June asked in surprise. She kept tight control over her relief though. The others had to be anxious to leave the planet, but not her, and she didn't want her personal grievances to interfere. "How long has it been?"
"Five joors." Six hours and fifteen minutes. Not as long as she thought. But it made sense. Slanted light was streaming through the broad windows so it couldn't have been too long since sunrise.
"Oh." June had no idea how long it actually took to fix a spacecraft, but to her it felt like it was dragging on. It had to have been seriously damaged for it to take two 'bots almost two days to finish.
Ratchet butted in as he gestured for June to stand up. "It's nothing you need to worry about. Let's make sure that you can still move. Don't want rudimentary static syndrome to set in."
She took his han-servo willinging, but frowned. Something quivered in the back of her brain- or was it processor?- when the medical terminology was rattled off. It was like the faint echoes of a test she had taken from way back in collage and the stupid little mnemonics she repeated to ace the test. But the feeling wasn't quite right. But by the time she stood up, the odd sense of -error-defective-misplaced-files- had faded.
It was quite awkward for her as everyone got onto the lift and were taken to the ground safely. Ratchet was, of course, holding her hand in a show of keeping her balanced, though it felt like he was unconsciously drawing strength from her. He had to be tired. It was explained earlier that both their bodies would remain still in stasis, but while June was fully enveloped in a sleep-like state, Ratchet was fully conscious and working to do whatever complicatedness it took to transfer information like that. He was still exhausted.
Wheeljack, too, looked unwell. Knowing what she did about the mech, he obviously returned to fixing his ship, instead of resting. And it was a little odd. Before, he would give her quick, disbelieving glances or occasionally scowl at her when she messed up the paint job but other than that first sentence after she awoke he seemed to completely ignore her.
Quite honestly, June was most comfortable with Ultra Magnus at the moment. Stiff and business-like, she held no expectations of a friendly 'get-well-soon' card from him. It was almost a relief when he immediately stepped off the platform and headed to the Jackhammer.
"Soldier, let's continue where we left off."
Wheeljack twitched, but stepped off the lift as well. "I'm not your soldier," he growled. "And it's my ship."
"We'll stay over here for a while," Ratchet butted into the escalating argument as smoothly as the cantankerous old medic he was. "We need to do some basic tests before I clear June."
"Joy," she muttered as she also stepped off the platform. But obediently June stayed where she was and waited for this next exciting session to begin.
When the other two had moved off, Ratchet dropped her hand and took a step back to examine her. Unimpressed, June folded her arms- upper struts- across her che- chassis.
"I thought it was our minds that were affected, Ratchet, not our bodies," she stated bluntly.
Ratchet flinched and dragged his ey- optics up from their feet- pedes to face her. He took a long moment before his optics cycled to awareness. "Correct," he said, as if nothing was wrong. "But I feel as if I shouldn't need to remind you that the mind affects the body just as much as the body can affect the mind. And you are a newspark. You still don't have the best control over your motor functions."
"Yeah, thanks for the reminder," June sighed as she dropped her arms. She tilted her head and gave a pout as she seriously asked, "And what about you? You're looking worse for wear. Anyone going to give you a check-up?"
Ratchet probably would have looked offended by that if he wasn't so tired. He still managed to sound affronted though, "I'm perfectly aware of my condition, June."
"Un-hun. And are you going to do anything about it?"
"After I check your wellness."
June gave a long, drawn-out sigh. Stubborn, stubborn mech! But dedicated. June tried quashing the irritation and replacing it with compassion. When she felt it was the right balance she flicked him with the EM field.
"Fine," she consented. She quirked her lipplates at Ratchet's startled expression, but didn't comment on it. "Let's get started before you keel over from exhaustion."
"Very well." Ratchet straightened, looking much more like himself. "To begin, stretch your right upper strut to forward-facing with your servo in-line."
June gave him a blank stare as she processed what the medic said. He gave no clue as to what he wanted, but stared impassively back. With a half-shrug, June decided to just go with it and stuck her arm out.
Ratchet nodded in confirmation. "Now, turn your palm up."
June did as she was told. They did this for the next hour; Ratchet giving her instructions on how to move her body, interspersed with questions reminiscent of his earlier testing. It seemed to go well but near the end June could tell that Ratchet was running low on power. He would take longer to give her the next command and it was as if he had to compute the answers to the questions he asked himself. It was at that point that June finally put her foot down.
"OK, I think that's enough testing," she said cheerily but with an edge to her tone. She, in contrast, was feeling rather energetic. She couldn't stop tapping her fingers or toes to an invisible beat.
Ratchet was slow to respond. "Very well. I'll clear you with a clean bill of health," he determined after scanning her with his own mediwrist.
"Glad to know I'm cleared to do nothing," she cheekily replied. A frown appeared on her face and she asked, "But seriously, what am I supposed to do now? I'm guessing it's too risky to help out the quarreling duo."
They had heard the loud bickering and even louder pounding coming from the Jackhammer. June personally wanted to stay as far away from that mess as she was allowed to. The medical officer seemed to agree.
He had to think for a moment, but eventually said, "We'll head inside Magnus' ship. There's some information I want to review."
"And for you to rest," June insisted.
"And rest," he agreed.
Once they were inside it was certainly much quieter. June raised an eyebrow and walked over to the far corner. Strapped securely to the wall was the hammer Ratchet was so insistent on protecting. June couldn't help but feel slightly bitter toward the item. That tool was something Ratchet believed was worth sacrificing his life over.
Hesitantly she asked without looking at him, "Is it really worth your life?"
She heard Ratchet move away towards the seats. "It's not necessarily the item itself, but the power it contains. And to keep Megatron from obtaining any more power than he already has."
June thought about that. It's not that she couldn't understand his statements, but more that she found them terribly sad.
"I realize it's not really my place to say it, but I don't think that it's worth your price."
"No," Ratchet spoke quietly, "You wouldn't understand. That monster destroyed our entire home planet in his mad quest for power. He even carried the conflict into the stars, affecting many other planets. Including this one."
June's fingers- digits? had reached out to brush the golden shaft of the hammer, but they paused. Somehow, it always came back to her home. Jasper was already destroyed, but how much of her world would be crushed under Megatron's pedes?
"And the war continues on. Will it ever end?"
Ratchet was quiet for a long time. So long, that June figured he simply didn't have an answer. But after the holoscreen changed several times with a swipe of his servo, he spoke. "Many have died or lost hope trying to find answers to those questions. But for me, it will not end until Optimus succeeds."
June raised her eyebrows at that. There was a lot wrong with that statement, but she didn't feel as if now was the time to rebuttal. So with a quiet sigh, she left the hammer and hovered behind Ratchet.
"What's it say?" she asked curiously. There were long lines of cybertronian text that at once seemed foregin and familiar.
"Reports on the Ark's progress. Ultra Magnus seems to have gathered more crew than I had hoped."
"You mentioned the Ark before, but what is it?"
Ratchet was startled enough to look away from the screen. "Oh, right. I forgot you're not actually Cybertronian and don't know what the Ark is." June just gave him an unappreciative look. He quickly moved on, "The Ark is possibly the greatest engineering feat of the Golden Age. One of several built for colonists, it's a massive spacecraft suited for not only carrying many Cybertronians to a distant planet, but with all the necessary tools and functions for both deep-space exploration and starting a new life elsewhere. Of course, near the end of the war, the Ark in particular was upgraded to include top-of-the-line defensive systems as it serves as the Autobot base off-world."
"Huh, so it's the Cybertronian version of the Starship Enterprise?"
Ratchet merely frowned. "Rafael also made that exact same connection, though I am of the opinion that the Ark is far more regal."
She couldn't help herself. June snorted before laughing out loud. Ratchet was such a stiffbot! Of course he would frown at the human's immediate first thought.
"Well, it's either the Enterprise, Noah's Ark, or the Mayflower that people are going to relate to when you explain it that way, so take your pick."
"Yes, I'm well-aware of your history. None of it, though, compares to Cybertron's Golden Age."
That got June thinking. "So how do you know so much about human history?"
Ratchet returned to the screen he was reading and spoke off-handedly. "Your world wide web was immensely helpful despite how discombobulating it is. Having an interconnected information network as complex as yours is a sign of civilization, and one of the reasons why Optimus chose to introduce us to your government. With nearly the whole world having near-limitless access to this information network it would actually be much harder to conduct our investigations in secret, unlike on some other underdeveloped planets."
"Uh, thanks?" June wasn't sure if she should be offended by the medic's tone or not. "But how did you access the internet without a computer? I mean, don't you need to be part of a line or something?"
This time it was Ratchet's turn to laugh. "Primus, you really don't know much, do you?"
This time June was offended, "Well, sorry, but I've spent most of my time working ten-hour shifts at a hospital so I don't exactly have a PhD in computer science."
Ratchet's outburst was over as quickly as it started, but a hint of a smile was still on his face. "To answer your question, no. But Cybertronian computers and software are far superior to humans'. It's…" he paused as he searched for the right analogy, "It's like the difference between a bed sheet and a ballroom dress. Both are made of cloth and cover an organic's body, but I'm sure there's a preference to which you would wear to a gathering."
"OK, I can admit that, but I'm the kind of person that would prefer to stay at home under the sheet with a bowl of popcorn watching t.v." June couldn't help herself. She just had to find a way to defend humankind, even if she didn't know a single thing about computers.
There was a light hum from her companion, but he had moved on to another report. June rolled her ey- optics. Soon, though, she found her mind cluttered with thoughts.
"Hey, Ratchet?"
"Hmm?"
"Seriously asking, how do you access the internet? I- I want to know what's happened since- ...since that light thingy. There's got to be news reports on it..."
June pattered off. Ratchet had frozen midway in swiping his screen again. Slowly, he turned to look at her. She didn't like that look.
"Earth does know about Megatron's attack," he stated carefully.
"Well, I figured that," she said stiffly. "But I need to know how bad it is. Ratchet, I can't leave here without some knowledge."
For a moment she thought he would refuse to tell her, but he gave a weary sigh. "I understand. Before we do that though, there's one last thing we should do."
June looked at him curiously, then frowned when he seemed to pull a cord out of nowhere. "How'd you do that?" she demanded.
"Subspace. Did you never see Arce-"
June's eyes got wide as she clearly saw a shadow of pain and hate slide across Ratchet's face. He gripped the cord so tightly she thought it would stay permanently bent. But just as quickly as it happened, Ratchet spoke up again, though it was certainly colder than it had recently been.
"Subspace is… well, there's been much study on the topic, but there's not a lot of factual information. Mostly just theories. But every Cybertronian has some indefinable 'pocket' within them that helps with transformation. This pocket is where extra mass is stored. Overtime, we learned that when not filled with our personal mass the pocket can be accessed and used as a means of storing small, non-living items."
June blinked at that explanation. There seemed to be a lot of information missing, but it was quickly set into a folder marked, 'burning questions to ask later'. "Huh, sounds useful."
"It is. I'll be sure to teach you later. For now, place this against your audials."
Bending over, June plucked the rounded end of the wire out of Ratchet's ha- servo. It was a giant sized version of disposable electrodes she would put on patients. Not entirely sure what she was doing, she pressed it against the side of her head where her ear should have been. Ratchet then pressed the other end against his head. A moment later June felt a light buzz and glyphs appeared in the corner of her vision.
"What the-" June yelped as she dropped the wire.
Ratchet gave a faint smile. "So, do you see my name?"
June ignored his question in favor of demanding her own. "What was that!?"
"Think of it as a personal phone number. I just gave you a way to talk to me in case we're not near enough to have a conversation. It should work for short distances, though."
June clamped down on her panic. Stupid, freaking robot body. It should not be normal to just stick a wire in your ear and then suddenly talk with somebody like over a phone. Gritting her teeth, she asked, "OK, I'll bite. How short is short?"
"Without help? One human mile. The majority of Cybertron's infrastructure was built with this function in mind so communications happened planet-wide. Here on Earth we managed to use your trashy satellites for that kind of range, though I had to write up nearly a dozen firewalls and protocols besides constantly run health diagnostics on the team to prevent infections."
And just like that, June came up with a dozen more questions. How one could get what sounded like a cold from just picking up the phone was beyond her. But hey, Cybertronians were weird. Ratchet at least gave her a straight answer.
"With that out of the way, I'll show you how to work the controls. But I'm warning you, June, you won't like what you find."
June was snapped out of her distracting thoughts. She had almost forgotten what she wanted help with in the first place, but with Ratchet's reminder her anxiety came back in full force. Taking a seat in the other chair, Ratchet stood up and showed her the controls on the chair's side. With just a tap a glowing holographic screen was before her. Ratchet had to type in a password and fiddle with it but soon enough she saw the familiar empty bar in the search engine.
"So even aliens use Google," she said drily.
Ratchet just gave a tired shrug in response. "I assumed it would meet your needs. I'll go into recharge now. If… you need help, would you mind asking one of the others?"
So that's how tired he was. June felt a little guilty making him stay awake this long just to answer her pestering questions.
"Yeah, I will. Get some sleep." She watched with pity as Ratchet slowly sank back into the other chair. "And Ratchet…"
"Hmmm?"
"Th-Thank you." For everything.
"Hmm."
His eyes went dark and his body slumped. June might have been a little freaked out with the sudden shut-down if she didn't feel a small pulse of gratitude a moment later.
"Sleep well," she whispered.
Then she turned to the screen with a frown and straightened her shoulders. "Let's get started," she said quietly to herself. Apprehension, curiosity, and a strange sense of gratitude overwhelmed her as she set about this next task.
"Protocol states that you are to fully drain the energon reserves before tampering with the influx valve."
"Yeah, I know what the book says," Wheeljack snapped, "A friend wrote it. Thrilling read."
"So why do you refuse to follow his directions?"
"Cuz he's wrong." OK, so not really. Truthfully, it was sound advice before the rationing started. Right now Wheeljack was not about to waste any more of the precious substance to follow a little thing called protocol. Especially since Mr. Protocol was standing right next to him and he could annoy the crap out of the stiffbot.
Pinching the line tightly in his servo, Wheeljack carefully unscrewed the broken valve for inspection. He lightly growled as he spotted the issue. There was a tiny crack along the back of the line as it met the joint. Not the worst of problems, but he knew from experience that it was only a precursor to more issues. As soon as he got out of this system he'd hit the closest resupply depot. No point in trying to escort the lady if they ended up getting stranded on a distant moon because of-
Startled by the newcomer's field, Wheeljack's servo slipped. "Scrap!" was all he managed to say before the energon spilled over.
"What do you need?" Ultra Magnus asked. Primus alive, the commander didn't even soften his tone for the poor femme. Couldn't he tell that she was upset with that kind of field?
Wheeljack spared a glance over his shoulder as soon as he got the spill under control. June didn't look too good. Her face was dark and her upper struts were pulled tightly across herself. She looked a little startled at Ultra Magnus's question, but calmed herself.
"Actually," she gave the both of them a quivering smile that was a lot closer to a grimace. "I was wondering if there was anything that needed to be hit. I'm just- I'm a little angry right now and wanted to blow off some steam."
A little? If this femme called that only a little anger, by the Fallen, Wheeljack would like to be at least three galaxies away when she really got angry.
"Not at the moment," Ultra Magnus answered. He didn't seem too bothered by her fluctuating field. He did frown at her and opened his intake to probably scold at her lack of control.
Wheeljack stepped in before that. "Hey, you can still help me out, though. I need a tool from the box over there."
June perked up at that and the anger dissipated. Quickly she walked over and knelt next to the tool kit and peered inside.
"Should be near the top. A clamp looking thing with needles on the end."
"A bracket infuser."
"Like she's gonna know what that is," Wheeljack snarked. He swore he heard a snort of laughter from her as she held up the item.
"Clamp thingy with needles on the end," June declared proudly. As she passed him, she smiled at Ultra Magnus in a friendly manner and explained, "Wheeljack's right. I'm a woman. I run off words like thingamabob and whatchamacallit."
The wrecker actually laughed along with her. As he took the tool out of her servo he explained to her, "Yeah, well, he's Ultra Magnus. Proper terminology is important to him."
"It is important for clear communication!"
"In fact," he continued without even acknowledging the commander, "Proper everything is his mojo."
The former human's laugh was like flavored rust-sticks; absolutely delectable and exceedingly rare to Wheeljack's audials. Surprisingly Ultra Magnus was also put at ease with her light chuckles, even if it came at his expense. Which is why the wanderer hated to ask what he did. But it was for the best. Rage like that shouldn't be contained behind smiles.
"So what's got you so angry right now?" He attached the clamp to the line, which both stopped the leakage and helped pull away any energon out of the line it wasn't supposed to into.
June sigh and turned to lean against the ship. Tipping her head forward she mumbled, "Everything, I guess. I just- I don't want this to be reality."
"Still haven't figured it out yet?" He asked with mild surprise. He figured the Data Transfer would have been solid enough proof for her, but maybe Ratchet did a better job blocking the majority of the files than he thought.
"Depends. Do you still have that grenade? Cuz I have a target that I'd like to try it out on."
"Excuse me, what's this about a grenade?"
"And what target would that be?" Wheeljack asked in growing glee. He had one guess and would bet the Jackhammer's entire supply of energon on it.
June's optics flickered to the commander but decided to answer Wheeljack's question first. "Megatron." It would seem that Wheeljack would get to keep his supply. But June's anger was coming back in full force. "Did you know he managed to send several nuclear warheads to Washington, D.C.? And they exploded. BBC news estimates that more than three hundred million people will die from radiation poisoning within the next six months. Three. Hundred. Million."
Wheeljack fiddled with some wires as he listened to her speak. This honestly wasn't news to him; He had watched his very own planet die. But it was new for June. It felt like she was having a hard time processing this. He couldn't blame her for wishing that this was just a dream. He, fortunately or unfortunately, it was difficult to tell anymore, let go of that falsehood long ago.
"You need to keep your anger in check, sol-"
The former engineer turned around as fast as he could when he heard that stutter. The commander wasn't known for stuttering, or cutting off his sentences. But there he was, standing rather uncomfortably, either because he didn't know how to address June or because she was giving him a glare worthy of death. The more time he spent with the femme the more Wheeljack liked her but also prayed that she wouldn't ever turn on him.
"Do you know, sir," June started icily, "what radioactive poisoning does to a human?" After a short, tense pause, the former nurse explained, "Depending on how close to the blast sight a person was, symptoms can being within just a few minutes or hours. Skin burns. Severe nausea and vomiting. Extreme nervousness sets in and is only amplified by the confusion as the central nervous system beings to go haywire before it shuts down. Death will occur within three days if treatment is not begun immediately. And ironically, it somehow gets worse if you're further away. You experience the same symptoms but it's only extended for longer, over the course of several weeks or months. But in the end, you die!"
There was a heavy silence. Ultra Magnus had shut his intake and narrowed his eyes with June's explanation. He seemed to be debating how to handle the outraged femme. June wasn't over, though.
Her voice somehow got lower and more controlled. "Washington, D.C., ground zero now, had nearly half a million residents. Half a million people are already dead or dying right now. Baltimore had six-hundred thousand. That's another six-hundred added to the death count. And New York city alone has over eight-million people. They're all expected to die within four months! Do you understand!? Millions are caught in the aftermath of this war of which they know absolutely nothing about. They have no idea why has happened to them. And you're telling me to keep my anger in check? If anything, I feel that I'm not angry enough."
Wheeljack didn't like Ultra Magnus, but he admired the ball bearings the mech had. With barely a pause, the commander stared at her impassively. Nothing could be read from his field, which was the exact opposite of the femme's. Her's was wild and dizzying, though the wrecker noted she was trying to stifle it.
"Megatron has been known to destroy entire planets before. He has crushed the lives of trillions in other systems."
Like Wheeljack noted, Ultra Magnus had ball bearings. Unfortunately, the Autobot Commander was sadly not equipped with the proper social protocols. Of all the things for the mech to say, that was probably one of the worst for the mutant to hear.
"Is that so?" June asked in a terrifyingly soft tone. "And is Earth to become one more statistic to your war? But it doesn't really matter to you because… What did you call us, Wheeljack?" The wrecker felt his engine stall for just a moment when he was suddenly called out. "Jack told me to ignore some of the slurs you Cybertronians referred to us humans as… Oh, right, fleshies was the term, right? Or squishies? Organics seems pretty mild but can still be offensive. But what's really- no… what's downright heinous is that you guys go flying around space fighting your bitter war long after what is beyond reasonable, destroying lives, sentient lives, and worlds, and civilizations in your bid to prevent 'the other side' from winning. Well, guess what!? There ARE no winners here! Just a terribly sad race of losers who don't know how to keep their own problems to themselves."
Wheeljack couldn't honestly think of a reply. There were no words that would be comforting. There were no facts that wouldn't hurt. And June's accusations weren't inaccurate. He, along with the majority of Cybertron, thought little of organics. They died so easily and so quickly that there wasn't a point to getting to know them. And Wheeljack had figured out long ago that he was a loser. He'd lost everything but he swore that if he was going to lose his life to you could bet that he would take as much Decepticon filth with him as possible.
At last, the femme seemed to run out of steam. She was still indigent, which could be told by how she avoided their gazes and wrapped her upper struts around her chassis defiantly, but her EM field was pulled in enough that the two mechs could relax their own. No words were spoken and the wind could offer only so much during this tense pause. Wheeljack sure as heck wasn't about to speak up. He was targeted one too many times already.
"We may not be winners in this war," the Autobot second-in-command began solemnly, "but if Megatron is not stopped he will continue universe-wide destruction. Of that, you can believe."
June curled her lipplates in a snarl. "I don't doubt it. What I can't believe is how long this war has gone on in a stalemate. You'd think somebody would have called it quits by now. Or died. Or sued for peace any way possible. But forget it. I know talking to you is pointless."
She pushed herself off the side of the ship and moved to stalk away but she didn't even get two steps before Ultra Magnus stiffened into attention and his optics cycled in agitation. Then, Wheeljack received the message from his ship.
Incoming fliers.
Moving on instinct, Wheeljack dropped his tool and grabbed June's wrist. With a tug he pulled her forward and she squeaked in protest.
"Gotta move! Drones incoming!"
Her intake snapped shut and her optics got wide. She turned to look at the other ship the Ultra Magnus had barreled to.
"What's gonna-"
"Get inside," he ordered and June stumbled up the ramp. The ship was a bit roomier with only two bots and several boxes less of junk so Wheeljack had no problems sliding into his seat. June took a corner for herself staring intently out the window as if she could see the fliers.
"Wrap your EM field in tight. I'm going to increase the ship's dampeners but it may not be enough if they get too close."
"Aren't we going to get out of here?"
Wheeljack's voice was clipped and he deftly managed the controls. "No. In this case it's better for Ultra Magnus to fly up and away as bait. The con's shouldn't know how badly damaged the Jackhammer is, but if they did, you can bet your last reserve they'd come in blazing. But, if there's a new ship on this planet that will become their main target, which buys me more time to get this pretty piece of junk flyin'."
"Will they come back for us?"
"Who? The con's? Only if Ultra Magnus doesn't time his getaway right."
"No, I mean…"
Oh. Of course the femme would ask about that. "Unlikely. Once Ultra Magnus becomes a target Soundwave will probably send more eradicons out to get him. So they'll bounce around the planet for a while before making for space. But don't worry. We'll meet up with them."
"OK." June had thankfully pulled in her field just like he told her. Anxiously, Wheeljack monitored the screens. Ultra Magnus had already lifted off and was pulling away at an angle. The group of five fliers the ships scanners had picked up were drawing closer, but he saw the exact moment they decided to give chase. He didn't allow himself to relax though. Anything could happen with that many fliers on your tail. But after a breem had passed Wheeljack sat back.
"It worked. We're in the clear."
He wasn't entirely sure if the femme heard him. She was pressed against the corner with her servos folded and pressing against her forehelm. She didn't seem willing to release her field, either. It was so tightly wrapped around her that she could have been a ghost. Slowly, though, she online her optics and Wheeljack was met with that startlingly deep blue color.
"Good," she whispered. June looked as if she wanted to say more, but didn't.
Wheeljack sighed. Great, now he had to think of what to do with the frightened femme. With her being so wound up like this wasn't good. "So you wanna help out?" he started. With her rapid blinks he took that as permission to continue. "I saw what you did with the communications' box. Confused the pits outta me. You did it correctly, though, if really sloppily."
June cringed, but it didn't stop her from pushing. Good, her field was stretching. "So can I?"
"Yeah, I need you to monitor the whispers."
"Whispers?" The femme was totally lost and effectively sidetracked. Their scare wasn't entirely forgotten but she seemed to be back to her curious self.
"Decepticon chatter," Wheeljack explained as he gestured for her to come closer. "I constantly hack their channels for information. It's partly what makes me so good at being a wrecker. But I can't do that and fix my ship at the same time. So you'll take over."
"OK… But I can't hack."
"You shouldn't need to. I've got a program that can crack the basic comms by itself. After that, it'll be Soundwave's whispers and you do not want to mess with him."
"I'll keep that in mind. So what do I listen for?" At least she seemed eager, though it really was a boring job. He had no idea how Blaster could keep doing it for so long.
"Coordinates. Locations. Times." He brought up the screen of audio files and pointed at the various graphics. "The grunts really aren't supposed to give away that kind of information, but they tend to slip up. It's how I can track their movements and find the energon mines."
His explanation continued and June was on the fast track to becoming a spymaster herself. As he got deeper into the details she looked less enthusiastic but continued along anyway. When he felt that she was sufficiently able to manage the communication's system herself, he wished her luck and exited the ship.
Primus, it had been a long sol. And the Earth's rotation was barely half over. But, he was at least alone for the moment. It was quiet, and he could actually hear himself think now, instead of having the rusty ol' commander objecting to his every move. For Vos, though, the bot should take an extra shot of oil to loosen him up.
He stood before the gaping hole and inspected the work done so far. All things considered, he had made incredible progress, but it just wasn't enough. Though the majority of the energon lines had finally been re-routed, several of the core powerlines spliced together, dampers fixed, thrusters thoroughly checked, and communications reset, they were still stuck. Of all the times for the Jackhammer to suffer a major blow, it was now. Of course, never was the appropriate time for something of his to get blown up, but good karma had never really been his thing. The pit-spawned eradicon that had done them in hadn't just gotten lucky. They had to of been blessed with the golden ring of perfect fortune to have oh-so-perfectly destroyed his anti-gravitational propulsion system. Without it, they were stuck on this rock. Without it, the Jackhammer just wouldn't have the power to break through the planet's atmosphere, let alone it's gravitational pull.
And he was pretty sure Earth was fresh out of cybertronian anti-gravitational propulsion systems. If the Autobot base was still around, and Ratchet could scrounge up the inferior materials for him, Wheeljack might have been able to cannibalize this busted up piece and recreate one that worked long enough to reach a proper supply depot. But that was far from reality. He hadn't specifically told Ratchet, and especially not Ultra Magnus, the problem, but he suspected that the medic suspected what the problem was. No doubt he felt the effects of the failing propulsion system when the ship's gravity sensors went haywire with the frenzied and unsuccessful escape.
They were lucky, though. Stupidly lucky that it was an Autobot that happened upon them, and not a Decepticon patrol. Time was running out for them, though. He could feel it in his struts. He heard some of the other wreckers talk about how they knew their end was coming, but he always scoffed at that. He swore that if he ever got those meaningless tingles in his struts he'd flat out deny them. But right now he was having a hard time concentrating while soldering the last few lines together. Which is why he jumped nearly sky-high when he felt overwhelming panic coming from the other side of the walls.
Leaving his work alone, he quickly entered his ship to find that June had stood from her seat and was so focused on the incoming transmission that she didn't even notice his approach. Wheeljack's optics cycled wide when she smashed the replay and the static-filled commands were again repeated.
No wonder she was going into a frenzy. This was about as close to undeniable proof the femme was ever going to get about wether or not her son was alive. And still human.
Wheeljack frowned. He had choices, big choices, to make within the next klick. It was suicide to take an untrained civilian into what would undoubtly become a war zone, or more accurately a genocide, but of all the things on this planet, Jack was the one she refused to leave behind. From their earlier conversations it was clear enough that June harbored some small amount of animosity towards the Autobots. And if they managed to get her safely off this planet without her son, the most civil thing she would do is ask to be left off at the nearest neutral zone. And that was only if they got off this rock. Which they couldn't because their anti-gravational proplu-
But the Nemesis was broadcasting its location. One of the largest Decepticon spaceships that was undoubtedly packed with spare parts. Parts that he could successfully steal while the troops were busy terrorizing the local population. Risky, but well worth it if it meant getting out into space.
And he could pick up Jack along the way. And if the spit-fire femme, Miko, was with him, he'd be sure to pick up his newfound wrecking buddy. The girl was always chatting about how she wanted to go to space. And if that quiet nerd completed the trio he had no complaints. He could use another nerd to bounce engineering ideas off of.
So it was decided. They'd go in. He'd do the sneaking around, find the parts he needed, find the kids, shuttle everyone away while the con's were distracted with a giant boom, and once the ship was in shape, they'd say good-bye to this spacerock.
Of course, Wheeljack's luck hadn't been up to snuff lately. Then again, he never really believed in luck anyway.