Hello Dear Readers! Here is the next installment of Freedom!

Warning: this chapter contains suicidal thoughts.

Thank you to the wonderful people who reviewed last chapter; Akari Wolf Princess and ScarletSea.

Chapter 46

Thundercracker was not the best mech for reconnaissance. His designation, after all, was partly attributed to the pair of booming thrusters that adorned his frame. Starscream, in his sleeker and silent alt, should have been the one to fly over the targeted human base. From what it seemed, those organics were not only intelligent but far more dangerous than his wing leader gave them credit for. They would suspect something was off when a mysterious jet starts flying overhead, even with his signal blockers.

Thundercracker did his best to maintain a wide distance from the target; instead of pushing his sensors as far as they would go to pick up any useful details. Luckily, everything seemed to align with what Mirage had reported. Consequently, it appeared the human informant within the facility was honest. He sent the scans back to Starscream as he went higher in the atmosphere to disappear past the clouds.

His leader seemed overly confidant before the oncoming battle. It took some convincing for him to go with the original plan and coordinate with the human, Silas. Thundercracker had yet to actually meet a human, and what he could ascertain from their World Wide Web did not show them as much of a threat, but at least he had some caution. It was no secret a human had been the one to slay Megatron, showing that with the proper weaponry, they could be dangerous.

Starscream seemed to think them being organic made them too simpleminded to mount a counteroffensive. But the very organic Starscream was organizing with seemed to be calling more of the shots. She, after all, was apparently credited with not only infiltrating the Autobots but played a role in offlining at least three Decepticons. When asked about a potential betrayal, Starscream brushed Thundercracker off.

He landed at their impromptu base, just a thick collection of trees with a clearing in the middle. It was close enough to the Division facility for the grounders to reach it. Mirage had already gone to Division, leaving just Dead End there. The smaller mech looked somber as usual.

"Everything alright End?" Thundercracker probed, already knowing the answer.

"Of course not. I only came here for energon, so I at least didn't have to offline slowly, but we only have enough for half of us. Maybe it would be better if these humans took me out now."

In their travels together, Thundercracker had learned how to deal with his comrade's depressive moods. He kneeled down and offered a small part of subspaced energon. Starscream insisted on giving an unproportionate amount to the seekers, claiming an imagined superiority. Knowing Dead End's greatest fear was offlining by starvation, he stored some away for later. The mech gave him what could amount to a grateful smile for the 'con. With his tank at least half full, he would be less inclined to anything intentionally reckless.

Thundercracker wished he could stay and help the mech in the coming fight, but he was needed at the Southward target. It was his job to take the facility with Vortex, mostly keeping the latter under control. The mad seeker could follow basic orders, but if any fuel was spotted, he would destroy anything in his path to get to it. Once there, he would be of no use until everything was consumed. Starscream would take the more controllable Hardshell to the North. Mech had already prepared their soldiers nearby each target.

Shockwave would not fight, instead, he was at their main base, torturing Octane with his experiments. Starscream deemed it fit to punish the mech for his attempted treason by giving him to Shockwave for experiments. The oversized seeker could have been a valuable asset, but he tried to take the prisoner- no more than a youngling at that- in hopes of exchanging him to the Autobots for protection on Earth. Thundercracker normally would be more supportive of the chosen punishment, but a discomforting feeling was lodged in his spark.

How far had the Decepticon Cause fallen? Since when did it go from removing the caste system to creating a new one based on frame type? When did so many troops strive for treason or simply offlining rather than face the next cycle? When did his leaders forget their promises of a liberated Cybertron and decide to conquer another planet? Where did this apparent superiority come from?

A churning, sick feeling had settled itself in Erin's stomach and she called it dread. Her attempts at calming those incessant nerves failed once Erin left Franky. The plan was in action, and she wouldn't be able to stop it if she tried. Come the next day, Division's financial and physical resources would be attacked by a coordinated team across the globe.

Erin had sent orders to her spies, mainly those she trained with who respected her more than they did Division. 24, her hacker, set a timed virus for the financial institutions Division used, as well as targeting their stocks. 14 would work with Mirage to lead an attack on the Virginia base with an agent called 19 in Florida and 74 in Vermont. Both the 'cons and Mech had sent word of their readiness to join the fray. Once the bases are secured, the server hard lines will be used to further cripple Division. Erin had instructed her human allies to hide what resources they could from the 'cons and mech. The fewer spoils they received the better.

It was also 14's job to ensure the Decepticons follow through with the plan to attack Mech after they've used up resources to take on Division. A crazy bitch like that would have no problem stirring up another conflict.

Meanwhile, in Russian, C Tech- Divisions' largest partner was to be targeted in both their manufacturing location and supply lines. The oil fields they own will be destroyed like a pyre. The damage will subsequently raise the price of oil and put money in the pockets of C Tech's strongest competitors; some of which Franky had already prepared for the attack to ensure the market made the greatest impact. Meanwhile, what energon they may have produced will be confiscated. 25 had been ordered to get the precious fuel to the Autobots, either through a third party by drawing them out to the offering.

To protect the Autobots from what information she'd already leaked, 24 had been ordered to show that said data was unreliable to any purchasers. Thus, discouraging any immediate threats. Once the rest of Division's network is hacked, all their buyers will be listed for the Autobots to see. That way, they could prepare for the worst, knowing of their potential enemies.

The last key was to leak mission reports to the United States and its allies through the Canadian Government, which had already been infiltrated by agents sympathetic to Erin's cause. These missions will show how Division targeted those entities on the behalf of their enemies. This will limit the number of willing clients Division could cling to. In one such report, was Erin's mission three years earlier, when she had been sent to assassinate a group of United States soldiers and special agents and ended up fighting a Decepticon instead. She'll no doubt be targeted by the government, as well as Division. She ordered for her current mission file not to be released, meaning there would be some time before her location and new alias are discovered, but she couldn't bet on that lasting long. Not that it mattered too much.

As long as Division was too weak to continue its pursuit of the Autobots and Mech would be removed as a threat, Erin would be satisfied. The agents she recruited would have a shot at freedom and an option to continue their revenge against Division. 25 and Franky had already volunteered to take point in their efforts, assuming Erin would be incapacitated or killed.

All that was left was the conversation she dreaded the most.

Her nerves only got worse as she laid in the med bay. After leaving the barracks, Erin allowed Sideswipe to drive her back. The whole while, she felt as pleasant as breathing hot steam. Subtly jamming her thumb into her sore knee was enough to distract from her mental storm. Any moment could be the last she has with the twins. She should have told them, they deserved to know. But Erin shamefully remained silent as she was dropped off. Sideswipe gave her a lopsided grin and promised to be back with Sunstreaker so they could keep her company and torment Ratchet. Erin simply nodded.

Being in the med bay was never pleasant for Erin. The air was filled with welding fumes and antiseptic, Ratchet has once promised the former was harmless but it was off-putting regardless. Ratchet's bedside manner was as pleasant as ever as he went through every inch of Erin with his scans. Since she already received treatment for her injuries, all Ratchet ordered was for her to hydrate. He'd left her in the med bay under orders to 'lie down and rest before those Primus-forsaken menaces come'.

Erin waited all of three minutes after the medic departed. Then, she hauled herself on unsteady legs and moved for the ramp leading down from the berth, sans crutches. Glancing over the edge, she briefly imagined just letting herself fall. Headfirst, she'd probably be out without feeling anything. Then, she wouldn't have to worry anymore. Her usual vertigo didn't even seem to fight the thought too hard. But no. The Autobots needed to know what was going on.

With a heavy sigh, Erin made her way down to the ground and left the med bay. She was slowed by the brace, the time not helping her resolve, but not enough to break it either. A glance past the med bay door showed she was alone.

Ironhide had been in one of Ratchet's berths when she arrived. His armor was scratched deeply in what he claimed to be training that got out of servo. The mech looked worn but mostly unhindered. He left for energon but wanted to speak with Erin before the evening. It seemed she had some time before he would be searching for her.

When she reached Prime's office door, she was about to knock when the brig door a few meters off slid open. Past the threshold came Jazz. His pace was quick with an agitated gait. His servos were clenched and shoulders hunched. What little of his faceplates was visible around his visor was set in a dark scowl. Heavy pede steps showed no remanent of the stealth with which they used to roam. When Jazz turned to see Erin, his gaze was searing, somehow both hating her very presence and not even seeing her. He opened his mouth as if to speak but stopped when another mech came through the same door.

Prowl, apparently having returned to the island gave his comrade a concerned look before noticing Erin. His door wings stiffened and optics narrowed. It was subtle, but Erin had a handle on the Second in Command's mannerisms. As usual, he was heavily displeased to see her.

"Welcome back." She stated flatly, not willing to put effort into pleasantries in the face of such disdain. Prowl had every right to hate her. He knew who she was, but couldn't do anything about it without his Prime's approval. Luckily for him, she was about to make his day. "I need to report in with Prime. You two should probably hear it as well." Without waiting for a response, she turned back to Optimus Prime's door and knocked heavily.

Erin stared straight ahead at the door. The mechs' glares felt hot on her back. She could hear they were standing directly behind her, even Jazz moved and vented with a mechanical buzz.

When the door opened, Prime first looked straight past Erin to his Second and Third in Command. Only his lingering gaze hinted at his confusion. When his attention was redirected to Erin, his expression intentionally softened. "Specialist Brook," he greeted cordially as he stepped back to let her in, "to what do I owe this visit?"

Erin had half a mind to blurt everything out then and there. The panic that she'd been suppressing was starting to overflow. But she felt as if her throat was stuffed with cotton. She tried to speak, but no words came. Steeling herself, she stepped into the office, hearing the pair of mechs follow.

Erin wasted time by using the steps up Prime's desk; her braced leg made the motions awkward. She glanced at the human-sized chair in the corner. It was raised a little higher on a small platform, allowing guests to comfortably sit closer to the giant mech's optic level. She quickly disregarded it, deciding to stay standing. She turned to see the mechs standing before her. Prime had yet to move towards his chair behind the desk. That left her with three Cybertronians blocking the only exit and she hoped that was to her advantage. Playing off Prime's sympathy, a human who is injured and incapable of escape didn't pose much of a threat. Hopefully, he wouldn't let her get crushed before she said her entire piece.

"Specialist Br-"

"I'm a spy for Division." Erin announced. Everything came rushing out; she felt unbelievably energized and weightless. It almost was like a high. All three mechs seemed frozen in place, but in an adrenaline-fueled state, she was hyperaware of Prowl's taught door wings, Jazz's clenched denta, and the fact that Prime stopped venting. Erin shattered the silence, "I'm guessing you read all the files I sent to Prowl."

"And Mr. Walker?" The Second in Command probed, his normal controlled façade falling to seething hatred. He had every right, that didn't mean Erin had to like it.

"I killed him and used him as a scapegoat." She replied, allowing herself to display the sadness she felt at those memories. Sometimes Erin imagined she could still hear his wet gasping as she strangled the life out of him. Bruises were already forming around his neck, visible just past the fabric of the jacket she used. His eyes had become bloodshot and his lips blue so quickly. Erin had killed many times before, but it wasn't often she watched the light slowly leave the eyes of her victims. And it had been a long time since she considered one of her targets a friend. "But he wasn't innocent either. He was a spy for Mech and he was the one who stole weapon designs from Que."

"And what proof do you have of this?" Prime asked, his tone surprisingly even.

"By now you should be able to hack my datapad and see all remaining correspondence I have with Division, code translations included. As for him stealing the designs, that's conjecture. But he made friends with Que and would walk him back to his lab when they drank together. The mech can't exactly hold his high grade. I'm certain Adam took advantage of that." Dimmed optics from the larger two mechs showed they were verifying her first claim. The datapad would show the hit Division put on him. It wasn't giving them much to go on, for the moment at least.

Jazz, however, seemed less reactive. His faceplates went slack as he seemed to stare off at nothing.

"Why tell us this?" Prime asked, clearly perplexed.

"Because if you read my reports, you'll see I've betrayed Division for a long time. What you haven't seen is the spy network I've been building. In just a few hours they will attack Division's financial and physical resources. They should back off any plans against the Autobots, considering the losses they are about to incur. I planned to run when I had the chance but things changed. Starscream had started dealing with Division."

"Did he tell you this himself?" Prime asked, not giving too much in the way of expressions.

"Yes. The Jackhammer's power core was only meant to lure us out so he could find me." She explained, shocked they were still somewhat calm. "Division and Mech have been long-time enemies and Starscream offered information on their location and operations in exchange for me. I found it important to warn you that Starscream is after the All Spark and he knows Jazz has it."

Jazz's helm lowered, optics shuttered, blackening his visor. His entire frame was lined with tension, practically shaking.

Prowl gave his comrade a worried glance but refused to stray his optics from Erin for more than a moment. "And who exactly told him?"

The small silver mech was vibrating, his fists clenched and creaking, armor clanging roughly against itself.

"Mirage." Erin replied, eyes batting between Prime, Prowl, and the spiraling saboteur. "I only just found out. They were in those files he stole from you before he escaped."

"Your report claims you helped with that." Prowl retorted.

"I brought him to Division, but it wasn't like it took much convincing. And I didn't tell him to steal that data; he did that on his own." Stay calm, tell the truth.

A miasma of anticipation was filling the room. The three seemed to be aware of Jazz's ominous behavior, but none knew how to react. Prime had a servo ready near the mech, either to comfort or restrain. Prowl's door wings splayed slightly; interactions with Bluestreak taught her that meant he was gathering environmental data through the wing's sensors. His optics were distant, likely putting more focus into processing possible scenarios.

The Second in Command still pressed Erin, seeming to avoid bringing attention to the land mine next to him, "Why should we believe anything you have to say?"

"You don't have to," she sighed, "just be ready for what's coming."

"And where do you benefit from telling us this?" Optimus added.

Before she could answer, there was a low sound. It was like pained moaning. At first, Erin confused the ethereal sound for her imagination. She refocused her attention on Jazz, his servos had slowly risen to meet his helm. His visor blazed with a white glow. The light bathed his wrists as he gripped at the crest on his dented helm. The whole display brought to mind a dying animal. It wasn't her imagination. The noise rose to a piercing chuckle, racking his frame like a smoker's cough. "Who cares!". His grinning faceplates pointed towards her. "You were right Prowl, and I had no clue!" Pained cachinnations seemed to tear out of him, his faceplates twisted in a mix of mirth and panic. "And who even cares."

"Jazz."

It wasn't clear who called out. All focus was on the mech before them. His convulsing laughter stopped, entire frame going still. The white glow seemed to flash before he darted to Erin, clawed servo jabbing forward like a spear.

Erin forced herself to fall backward, hitting the table and causing a rising pain in her sore shoulder. The dodge gave Prime enough time to tackle Jazz before he eviscerated her.

Erin fought the pain throughout her body to get in a standing position. She was unarmed but wouldn't go down that easily.

Jazz, with ungodly strength, shoved Optimus Prime off him, the red and blue mech crashed through the far wall. He kicked Prowl's legs from under him before rolling to his pedes. His armor seemed to tremble before Jazz dug claws into his own chassis and tore out two sparking devices with black wires from between gaping armor seams.

Electricity visibly flew off his frame as his sickly weld marks started to fade. Once disheveled armor seemed to be rightening itself. He did not stay long enough for Erin to witness much more, as he turned and tore through the door, darting out of view. His pedesteps were inaudible.

Erin, ignoring her injured leg, leaped down the steps and past the mechs before they could get out of their prone states. A sequence of clanging metal alerted Erin to Jazz's direction, heading towards the main entrance to the hanger. If he was going in that direction, he was likely intending to go outside. Erin didn't know what her plan was, but needed to do something. So, she hobbled to a familiar set of blast doors.

"Que!" she screamed, hoping the mech would hear her. She bashed against the entrance, trying to catch his attention.

One door opened, nearly brushing her away in its wake. "Are you ok Deary?" His optics were wide and worried. Prime probably alerted the Autobots to the situation.

"I need by wrist-blade." She explained. The inventor had taken it for maintenance after her return.

"Dear, you are in no condition to fight him." Que answered, aghast.

"I need to do something! Just hand it over!" There was no time to argue. Jazz could be slaughtering the island's soldiers already. They would be hesitant to turn their weapons on a friend but he was too fast to run from.

Sensing the urgency, Que relinquished the tool. She strapped it dutifully to her arm as she ran outside. Blaster fire and heat were the only indications Erin needed to track Jazz. Trees were alight with flame along her favorite running path. Roaring engines were audible beyond the tree line, towards the beach.

The sprint there was agony on Erin's body. She prayed her injured leg wouldn't give out on her. The blood pumping in her ears wasn't enough to drown out the clear sounds of combat; metal against metal, the groaning cries of trees torn in two, and earth spraying the landscape.

As sand and water met her sight she was thrust into the energy of battle. Sunstreaker and Sideswipe flanked Jazz while Prowl held back, likely ready to corral Jazz away from the humans. No other soldiers were present. Optimus wanted to keep the situation as contained as possible. Where were the others?

The twins were far bigger than the Third in Command, but Erin had long proven size did not count for everything in a fight. Sideswipe was slowed by the sand under his pedes so Jazz had little trouble dodging his swords. The blockers Sideswipe kept on his weapons during training were visible to Erin. But with each missed attack from Sideswipe, Sunstreaker partnered, aiming his fists for Jazz's escape routes. They were only trying to contain him. The remaining mechs must be protecting potential escape routes.

The yellow mech managed to land a heavy blow on Jazz, bashing him to the ground with enough strength to shatter armor. The contact cracked like thunder.

A blur of silver showed Jazz was hardly affected. Cannon glowing, he wrapped an arm around Sunstreaker's leg and shot the side of his pede point-blank. His roar of pain was preceded by an eruption of metal and flame as he dropped on the sand. Jazz aimed his blaster at Sunstreaker's faceplates.

Erin powered her cannon full blast and aimed at the mech's shoulder, wanting to disable him enough to control. She shot her mark, making the weaponized arm drop away from Sunstreaker. Her bare arm burned from the weapon's uncontrolled heat.

"Don't hurt him!" Prowl yelled as he left his post to join the fray.

Sideswipe jumped in from the other side, arms out to restrain Jazz, but the smaller 'bot's injured appendage clawed his side.

All of Jazz's damage disappeared with a few sparks.

Erin aimed her weapon again, waiting for Sideswipe and Sunstreaker to fall a few meters back, the latter forced to limp back but still on what remains of his pedes. They were joined by Prowl in circling their target.

"The All Spark is healing him," she reasoned to Prowl, "the damage won't last and you can't restrain him like this." It wasn't only Jazz that was posing a problem. Sideswipe was pulling his punches, Prowl was unwilling to even fight, and Sunstreaker had no root to support his powerful attacks. Erin wasn't in any better shape.

Analyze. Jazz was aiming to take advantage of his larger opponent's weaknesses. That meant that he had retained some form of intelligent thought and awareness, even if it boiled down to battle instinct. His logic would follow patterns. Erin just had to predict them and react faster than Jazz moved.

The silver mech darted his helm around, surveying those surrounding him. His first goal would get a high ground, which at the moment was where Erin was standing. To escape, he had to pass between two of the three mechs. Sideswipe was slowed by the terrain more than other mechs, Sunstreaker could barely stand, and Prowl didn't want to risk harming Jazz. Passing between the twins meant they could coordinate grabbing him. So, Jazz would pass between Prowl and Sunstreaker instead.

Jazz moved to do as she predicted, but her analysis turned out to be too weak. A glowing blue cannon aimed past the Cybertronians and directly at her. When did she stop factoring herself into the equation?

Erin jumped off the rocky outcropping, trying to aim for cover among the larger stones. The ground where her feet once were erupted. A hot shockwave threw off her landing. Erin hit the ground painfully rolling forward as her wrist mount caught between two rocks. The resulting 'snap' was heard far before she felt her arm break or shoulder disjoint. A crunching noise warned of her knee's condition.

Erin gritted her teeth through the pain and forced herself up to see what was happening next.

Sunstreaker was on the ground, wrestling under one of Jazz's claws while his cannon waved dangerously close to the yellow mech's faceplates. Giving up on pushing him off, Sunstreaker dropped his arms and forced his entire frame off the ground, flipping them over. Sunstreaker struggled to contain the smaller mech when Jazz freed his servo long enough for it to spread into a sparking weapon with four appendages.

Sunstreaker jerked back but wasn't fast enough to stop the electricity from riddling his frame. He slumped over in a yellow heap as Jazz crawled out from under him.

He headed for the high ground where Erin once stood, aiming his cannon at Erin again. She was barely on her feet when Sideswipe tackled Jazz, just a moment too late.

Erin felt as if her entire body was on ice. She could barely move and nearly everything was cold, save for the warmth on her fingers. Her uninjured hand was at her side and she fell backward. It felt a deep depression and sticky wetness where her shirt should be. She was aware of hitting the ground long before feeling the impact. Her mind stalled between Jazz, the twins, and the gaping hole through her flesh.

Barley aware to her, Prowl and Jazz were wrestling, Jazz's cannon being pushed into the air. A blur of silver in her peripheral meant the Sideswipe was kneeling over her. His voice was too muffled for her to understand. Her fingers were brushed aside as Sideswipe pressed his out larger digits against her wound.

Sunstreaker, somehow back on his pedes, traded blows with Jazz, their servos too fast for Erin's light-headed mind to track. Jazz seemed almost unaffected by the onslaught. A set of razor-sharp claws dug into Sunstreaker's side, the mech unable to dodge with his injured pede. When he paused to react, Jazz took advantage and clawed again before kicking him down. His weaponized servos aimed for the few weaknesses in Sunstreaker's impressive armor. How did Erin not realize how dangerous he was? Sideswipe growled in pain and glanced over his shoulder; optics nearly white. He could lunge forward and easily hit Jazz, but he remained by Erin's side.

Once Sunstreaker hit the ground, Prowl appeared to battle his friend. It didn't take long for him to be knocked down by the smaller mech. The blue of a cannon glowed over the black and white 'bot. When Erin thought it was going to fire, nothing happened. It just glowed menacingly. Neither Prowl nor Jazz moved. Was time slowing for Erin in her last moments? No, the twins were still moving at a normal pace. But Prowl and Jazz were still.

Why?

He was hesitating. There was still an opportunity to stop him. But she couldn't move. Not with her injuries. The twins could attack, but any motion towards him would spur his fight or flight instincts. She needed to break him down another way.

"J- Jazz." She croaked; the sound too weak. Sideswipe mumbled something but Erin ignored it. "Jazz." She tests out her voice. "Jazz!" Finally, recognition lit his faceplates. "Jazz! You have to fight it!" Erin didn't know what she should say. Desperate instinct was all that drove her words. "I know, at the moment, it seems easier to let something else make the call, whether you're just following orders or falling to the All Spark's influence." Erin caught her breath, trying to keep her volume from wavering. "That way… you don't have to blame yourself when someone else gets hurt. Because in your mind, it's that thing's fault for making you do it. But that doesn't change the aftermath you will suffer through. Think about it! The future this thing would make you bring. This planet could be wiped out, your friends offlined… fight against that future!"

Through her blurring vision, Erin sees Jazz relax. The glow of his cannon disappears as he transforms it back into a clawed servo. A faint glow appears within his grasp before a glint of metal falls through his palm, hitting the ground in time with his own collapse.

Sideswipe, his servo still pressed against Erin's side, reached for the red glowing object. Before his digits could make contact, he jerked, jostling Erin roughly, and fell over in a limp heap. His pressure on her slacked as blood started flowing freely from her wound once again. She'd pass out before help arrived.

But first, this thing that seemed to melt through Jazz's servo was dangerous to the four unconscious mechs. Did he drop some kind of weapon?

Fighting through the numbness overtaking her body, Erin rolled to her stomach and dragged herself over the shallow stones, all half-buried in the sand. If she could reach the object, maybe she could disable it. Her body felt light, but her arms struggled as if she was weighted down. The few yards she needed to crawl through led her between the mountains of limp metal.

She felt heat radiate off the object, only a couple dozen centimeters in size. It was jagged and glowing like coal. Her vision swam as she got close enough to touch it. It sizzled in her skin, but she couldn't feel anything. Whatever she held was no weapon. It appeared to be a broken piece of metal.

Was it the All Spark?

She wouldn't stay conscious long enough to take it away from the mechs. That much was clear. As reason flowed away from her mind, she was able to grasp one last, terrible idea.

The searing of her open flesh upon contact was barely audible to her.

After that, there was only blackness.