Flamin' hot Cheetos, it's been a while! I apologize for the long wait, everyone. Things in my personal life got hectic and to be frank, I had a brief hiatus with this story. Thankfully I had a burst of inspiration just in time to deliver this Christmas present to you guys. Happy holidays!

Megatron onlined his optics to find his HUD filled with error messages. There were so many that they stacked on top of each other, making it nearly impossible to decipher them all. The only other time he had been greeted with such a sight was when he awakened from his century-long stasis lock, when all his systems were in a forced shut down and heavily damaged. From what he could discern from the alerts, his frame was in a similar state.

Every single wire in the Decepticon's being radiated with pain. It felt like Breakdown had thoroughly beaten him with his hammer. The gears in his joints were stiff and his stabilizers in his limbs were unresponsive. His pistons did not move. Primus, what had Trypticon done to him?

No, not Trypticon.

The Nemesis.

He was then stirred by a presence, and a small and familiar one at that, insistently poking at him with anxiety.

….Jack?

The reaction was immediate. There was a puff of air by his audio, so insignificant it could only come from an insect. The presence hastily retreated, constructing a wall of organic thought and emotion across the blood-bond. Megatron did not fail to notice it was sour and unpleasant. There were other little noises—the pitter patter of feet among them.

"Run!" he thought he heard.

Megatron chose that moment to reach out, still completely blind, only for his claws to scrape against the empty floor. There was a shriek from somewhere—loud and high-pitched and definitely not Jack. There were other humans aboard his ship.

When and how they arrived was inconsequential. What mattered was that they were trying to escape. And no one left his ship without his permission!

Megatron ground his fangs as he struggled to rise. He dismissed the alerts filling his HUD one by one. A couple of his systems required a hard reboot, stalling his progress longer than he liked. Finally his vision cleared. The first thing he registered was the manual bypass before him, in the down position. He did not remember pulling it.

The second observation had to do more with his surroundings. The violet hue that once filled the ship's interior was gone. The hum of energy, of power, was gone. When Megatron looked at the fuel lines directly feeding into the power core, his optics went wide. They were empty. The dark energon was gone.

It certainly explained why Trypticon suddenly stopped his relentless attacks. Even now, Megatron was picking up the remnants of ravaged data files. It would take time to completely repair the programs of processor. But that would have to come later.

Now, he had interlopers to catch.

If only it were so easy. Parts of Megatron's frame were still locked in place, making it difficult and awkward as he dragged himself to his pedes. Trying to walk in a straight line was even harder. He hobbled like an old 'Bot devoid of energon, hardly a fitting sight for a Champion of Kaon. Somehow he managed to make it to the main corridor, claws seizing the threshold to keep himself upright.

Glancing back and forth, he saw no signs of the humans. How could creatures so small be so fast? Megatron instinctively pushed his will across the blood-bond, only for his commands to be rudely swatted away.

The tyrant ground his fangs. Insolent brat! Jack had disrespected his master, allowed the Autobots to take him, and now—what?—he sought to sabotage the ship? He didn't even have the bearings to look Megatron in the optic! His punishment would be severe!

His frustrated snarl turned into a ferocious roar, "JACKSON!"

He had only spoken the child's true name a handful of times, back when Jack was nothing more than a tool held at arm's length. Or when Megatron found himself in the throes of rage. He did not receive a reply, not that he expected to.

He picked a direction, limping down the length of the hallway as fast as his stiff chassis would allow. He would pass drones also awakening from stasis lock, coming to life with rigid movements like Terrorcons rising from the dead. Megatron did not stop to acknowledge or assist any of them. He was only focused on one thing.

Just when he was beginning to believe he had chosen the wrong direction, a commotion reached his audial receptors. The rough vowels of English drifted down corridor, spoken with the metallic twang of a Cybertronian vocalizer. Then there was a clang of metal on metal, followed by a hum reverberating through the air. That was when Megatron rounded the corner.

He immediately saw the bright colors of a groundbridge, almost blinding in the gloom of the Nemesis. Beside were splashes of red armor. Knock Out, sprawled across the floor, and another figure. Ratchet. Even that lazy old fool was here?!

Then Megatron noticed what was in his servos. One held a silver transfer drive. The other held Jack.

Being held more like a cube of energon than a frail creature, his blue eyes were wide with panic and fear. Ratchet didn't notice the warlord, his gaze set on the groundbridge as he hurried towards it. But Jack did.

Dull blue eyes met blazing red optics.

Megatron lunged.

But he was too late. The intruding pair vanished from sight with a brilliant flash.

No!

The former Champion cleared the distance only halfway before the groundbridge vanished from existence. Leaving him in darkness.

Megatron skidded to a shaky halt, claws swiping the air where the vortex had once been. Stopping just before he toppled over Knock Out. The Decepticon medic was picking himself off the floor, rising to a crouch just as the titan's sinister shadow fell over him. Knock Out's helm snapped up once he noticed his lord looming over him.

"M-Master, I—" Knock Out started, but Megatron did not want to hear his excuses.

"You let them escape?!" he snarled, flexing his claws in agitation.

Claws that should be holding Jack! The boy was nearly in his grasp! And the vain fool let them get away!

Knock Out let out a string of senseless stutters, trying to make a defense. He was shaking so badly that his frame rattled. Megatron was drawn away from the pathetic sight when he noticed a flash in the corner of his optics. He turned his attention to the workstation to find the screen displaying the Iacon Database.

Five entries had been decrypted, each unveiling a set of coordinates. On Earth.

Beside them, was a line of glyphs, flickering in and out of existence.

Download incomplete.

Suddenly the transfer drive in Ratchet's servo appeared across Megatron's vision. So that's what Jack's mission was.

An impossible heist.

Jack was shaking and panting when Ratchet stepped into the humid air of Cape Canaveral.

Megatron saw him. Megatron saw him.

In a matter of moments, the mission had turned bad to worse to a nightmare.

Jack would have still been back by the power core if it wasn't for Raf and Miko. The army brat was frozen like a deer in headlights when his friends ran over to him, hauling him to his feet. Only once he straightened, one command came to the forefront of his mind: run.

It wasn't until he said it aloud that Megatron lashed out. Miko let out a scream when his claws swiped the air just feet away from them, a gust of wind slapped them in the face. It was Lennox that ushered them out and away from the rousing monster. Jack didn't even remember their frantic sprint through the Nemesis—no, Trypticon's hull—as the Decepticons came to life around them.

Ratchet couldn't summon the groundbridge at a better time. It was Jack that volunteered to stay behind, to take the transfer drive, while the others fled to the safety of the base. Knock Out would have captured him, or whatever he planned to do with that drill, if Ratchet hadn't come in just that moment.

Caught off guard and still disoriented, Knock Out didn't have a chance to protect himself against the old war veteran. The medic fell with a deafening clang. Ratchet took the transfer drive in his servo and scooped Jack up like he was an ice cream cone.

Then Megatron was right there. He was standing only a few paces away, clinging onto the wall for support with an inscrutable expression. His optics were narrowed into slits, burning with such intensity it was like the fires of Hell were behind them. It was a terrifying sight. It was the last thing Trypticon ever saw, before he was forced into oblivion.

Ratchet's frantic shout thrust him back into the present.

"Perceptor, deactivate the groundbridge, now!"

The Autobot scientist needed no further invitation. He rushed to the nearest console, inputting a command so fast that his fingers were a mere blur across the keys. Suddenly the groundbridge snapped close with a sharp pop, just as Jack swore he heard a roar of disappointment.

It continued to echo in his ears until it was interrupted by an orchestra of hydraulic hisses, grinding gears, and metallic groans. The boy's eyes widened as he watched the Autobots unlock from their stasis. Dull optics flickered online, bright and alert, but confused and disoriented. The ground reverberated with heavy thuds as several Autobots stumbled into wakefulness. Others, like Smokescreen and Bulkhead, fell to the floor with a thunderous crash.

While the commotion was enough to have the nearby humans squawk in startled fear, Ratchet only let out a sigh of relief.

"Thank the AllSpark," he breathed, placing a servo upon his chest.

Meanwhile Jack's gut only twisted. He was stiff as a board as the medic gently placed him onto solid concrete. The moment he was stable on the ground, Ratchet abandoned his side, rushing over to the delirious members of Team Prime. Perceptor hurried to Ironhide and his group of fighters. Raf and Miko were quick to join them.

"Bulkhead!"

"Bumblebee!"

The teenagers called out to their respective guardians, each in a different high-pitched sob. Raf dashed to Bumbleebee with tears in his eyes. The yellow scout didn't see him at first, his faceplates buried in his palm. His synthetic vocalizer let out a string of broken whirrs, but none of it was coherent Cybertronian. That was until he finally shifted his gaze to his charge and let out a single chirp.

"R-Raf?"

Meanwhile Miko had made to Bulkhead's side, delicately placing her little hands on his helm. Jack couldn't hear what she was saying, but her voice was still shrill and distressed. The Autobot could only rumble a reassurance as he slowly climbed to his pedes.

Then there was Arcee.

The femme's optics were shut tight was rubbing the side of her helm, an oddly human gesture, as if she was trying to ease a headache. She was in pain, but Jack did not go to her aid.

Instead, his mind was full of ugly black thoughts. Was she involved in Tryoticon's capture? Was she there, when he was tortured? What other secrets was she keeping from him? Who else had lied to him?

Jack turned his gaze to Optimus Prime. The Autobot leader had recovered the quickest, his battle mask retracted so he could vent properly through his intake. When Ratchet tried to check his vitals, he merely waved the old' Bot way with a stern frown. He was as impassive as ever, and it filled the teenager with fury.

He suddenly felt the urge to storm over to the Guardian Knight, and expose him in front of everyone to what he had done. Before he had the chance to make up his mind, Lennox's shout tore him back into reality.

"I need a medic over here!"

Fowler's arm draped across his shoulders, Lennox half-carried, half-dragged him away from the bustling activity. The liaison's head lolled side-to-side, his eyes open but seeing nothing. He was surrounded by a swarm of stone-faced medics. They checked his vitals while Lennox explained what happened. Apparently thousands of megavolts was unhealthy for the human body. As Jack could only watch helplessly as he was carted away.

Bile rose to his throat. Everyone got hurt because of him. Everyone lied to him. And at that moment, Jack couldn't decide which was worse.

Everything became a blur around him. The clanking of pedes, the chatter of voices, the groans of pain, and the laughter of relief, it all mingled together in a cacophony of noise. Suddenly he couldn't take it anymore. He shifted on his feet, and before he knew it they were carrying him outside the hanger.

Jack ran as fast as he legs would allow. He didn't know where he was going. He just knew he wanted to get away.

He barged past squadrons of soldiers, ignoring their startled shouts. He sped by building after building. He flew over cracked concrete and pale pavement. He did not know how long he went on. He did not know when solid stone gave way to dry dirt and grass, before that too shifted into grains of sand.

It was not until his feet became heavy, dragged down by the loose terrain, before Jack finally slowed to a stop. His breath came out as wheezing gasps, his lungs desperate for air. His shoulders and chest heaved. A coat of sweat made his clothes stick to his skin. His legs trembled so violently underneath that his knees gave way underneath him.

It wasn't until Jack was down on all fours he recognized where he was. Apparently his mad run had carried him all the way to the beach. The waves gently lapped against the wet sand, displacing flocks of foraging seagulls. The calm water glistened underneath the dying sun like it was made of a thousand diamonds.

It was a beautiful, ethereal sight, and it made Jack want to purge. A half-gag, half-sob sound ripped from his throat. He tried to muffle it by pressing his palm to his face, like someone could hear him, even though the closest person was over a mile away.

A piece of his mind taunted him then, reminding him the only reason he was capable of running such a distance was because of the dark energon pumping through his veins. Yet another difference between him and everyone else.

Jack curled into a pitiful ball, then, pulling his knees up to his chest and wrapping his arms around them. He buried his face between his legs, hiding his tears from the world. His cries were muffled against his jeans.

He hated this. He hated everything about this stupid war. Decepticon or Autobot, it made no difference. Each side was only out for themselves, and didn't care who got in the way. Leading to an endless cycle of death and suffering.

The army brat began to regret the day he got on that worthless motorcycle. He wished he never met the Autobots. He wished he never met the Decepticons.

He didn't know how long he stewed his in miserable thoughts until suddenly the ground quivered beneath him. Blinking the tears from his eyes, Jack lifted his head. He could hear the hum of machinery, drawing closer. Pronounced by the rustling of grass being trampled under pedes.

Too large to be Arcee, but not as heavy as Optimus's. Jack glanced over his shoulder to spy a flash of white plating. What was Skyfire doing here?

"Go away," he spat out, turning back around. "I want to be alone right now."

Of course, the stubborn Seeker didn't listen. He came even closer, settling beside the traumatized teenager, but was careful not to invade his personal space.

"I had thought you would be celebrating with the others," Skyfire mused softly.

Jack's voice dripped with bitterness.

"Celebrating what? Another pointless victory in a pointless war? That Optimus and Megatron get to live to fight another day, while everyone else around them dies? How many other people have suffered because of their selfishness? How many other Trypticons are out there?"

"Ah."

There was the groan of gears as Skyfire shifted into a sitting position. Apparently the flyer didn't mind grains of sand getting into his plating.

"So that's what this is about."

It was more like an observation than a condescending drawl. All the same, Jack gritted his teeth together so hard he thought they would crack.

"He never had a choice, about anything," he half-told, half-sobbed. "He was used by the ones he trusted the most. They stole his free will and turned him into a tool. Now he has to spend forever in a living death." Jack's rose voice into a broken wail. "A-And… And we put him there! So how could you possibly expect me to be happy?!"

He ended his rant with a breathless sob. He smothered the sound. He didn't want Skyfire to see him while he had another meltdown. So he turned back to the metal giant with a scathing glare.

"But you already knew about all that, didn't you?" he accused.

Skyfire merely regarded him with an impassive expression. Blinking, he turned his gaze towards the horizon, where the sun was already half-submerged within the ocean.

"A suspicion," he confessed quietly. "I heard rumors. Trypticon was the most powerful Decepticon ever to live. As much as Megatron revered him, the Decepticon lord also feared him. So he made a… contingency plan, as you humans call it, in the event should Trypticon ever betray him."

"You heard rumors?"

While Jack fixed him with a skeptical glare, Skyfire only shrugged.

"Well, I suppose I was in a unique position," the mech admitted, "being affiliated with several members of High Command."

The boy's thoughts stalled so suddenly it was like whiplash from a car accident.

"Y-You were a Decepticon?" he gasped.

"I was, until I changed sides to the Autobots."

"You mean, you just flipped?"

"It's a choice. Your allegiance is strict, personal decision." Skyfire closed his optics for a long moment. When he opened them, they were as bright and intense as the setting sun. "I joined the ranks of the Decepticons not to follow Lord Megatron, but Prince Starscream."

If Jack didn't feel so rotten, he would have laughed at the idea of the egotistical sadist having a following. Instead, he only commented in bitter sarcasm, "I think you bet on the wrong horse there."

"So I did," Skyfire agreed. "Starscream was something like a protégé to me. I taught him all I knew, in hopes he would be able to lead Vos through an era of prosperity. I was one of the few that protested his ostracism. He did not nothing wrong, other than standing ignorant in the political arena.

But when he returned, he was different. When before he was light and careless, his time in exile had made him dark and hateful. The power he seized was never enough. The cube he sought to fill had no bottom."

Jack knew so little of Starscream's life before the war. Just bits and pieces he had been told during his time between the Autobots and Decepticons. As Prince and Air Commander, he was Vos's political and military leader. He ruled during a time of peace, but apparently there were others that disagreed with his policies. His rivals ripped him from his position and destroyed his reputation. Banished from his own home, Starscream lived in isolation for eons. No wonder the mech went mad.

"And yet you stayed by his side," Jack mused.

Skyfire nodded, "I had hoped I could steer him away from the path he followed. But the longer I served Megatron, the more I learned that his society of equality was mere illusion. I worked under Shockwave, building weapons of mass destruction, one after the other. All the genocides. So much death, so much negativity. I came to realize that Megatron could never be allowed to carry the AllSpark."

Jack stiffened at the latter statement. Something clicked, then.

Megatron's memories came rushing back to him, cascading over his own thoughts. The warlord was left stranded, frozen, for centuries. All because he sought the AllSpark. Only for his vessel, the Harbinger, to crash. No. It was sabotaged.

"It was you," Jack realized. He turned back to Skyfire, eyes going wide. "You're the traitor."

TRAITOR...

"Megatron was quite upset when he learned of my treachery," Skyfire rumbled. "I barely managed to escape with my spark intact."

He shifted face Jack, gesturing to a long, jagged scar across his chestplate. No doubt made from Megatron's fury.

"I fell in the snow, not far from the crash site, where the humans found me a few centuries later," Skyfire went on. "While I broke free from my would-be captors, Megatron was not so lucky."

"So you've been alone. All this time."

Jack could hardly comprehend it, and he had seen Megatron's imprisonment. The warlord was trapped in a prison of iron, while Skyfire was stranded in a gilded cage. He was lost in an alien world, without resources, without comrades. He had no way to call for help, and his only companions were hostile aliens seeking his capture or his destruction.

"Not completely. I occasionally met with a wandering Cybertronian. And the humans certainly kept me entertained."

Skyfire's dermas curled in a ghost of a smile, then, like he was amused by his own joke. Jack pitied those poor fools that tried to chase after him.

Then that smirk disappeared as Skyfire continued his story, "But there were times I considered seeking out Megatron."

"To rescue him?"

"To terminate his misery. What the humans did to him, I would not wish that upon my worst enemy."

"Then why didn't you?" Jack asked.

"Because there would have been no honor behind such a deed. He was trapped. Defenseless. By ending his life, I would be no better than him."

The teenager swallowed thickly at his words. It was no different than when he found Megatron trapped within the mines. He was a monster that had done terrible things, completely at Jack's mercy, and yet he could not bring himself to do it. And what a mess it had caused.

"So instead you joined the Autobots."

"I did," Skyfire confirmed with a nod. "I expected them to terminate me, but Optimus chose to listen to my tale. I was a warrior with a broken code. I had done horrible things, both on Cybertron and on this planet. I was the last mech deserving of a second chance, but I was granted one, regardless."

Jack swallowed thickly as he listened to the mech's story. It was one that sounded all too familiar. It reminded the army brat of himself. His entire life, he was raised in the shadow of his father. He was expected to follow his footsteps-to be brave, to be strong, to be a leader.

Then that all went away the day John Darby died.

The path he followed had crumbled. Jack found himself walking through the hall of Jasper High, aimless. He was bitter and alone. Then he met the Autobots. Raf and Miko. They gave him a purpose. A reason to fight.

To protect the people he loved. To protect the entire planet.

But ever since he found Megatron within the mine, everything around him was falling apart.

Jack's grip on his legs tightened. Feeling a sob building in his throat, he buried his face once more.

"I screwed up," Jack choked out. "I screwed everything up."

"So it would seem," Skyfire murmured softly. The Cybertronian leaned forward. "Though we have all made mistakes, Jack. Not even a Prime is perfect. But they do not have to define who we are. It is what we do here and now that allows us to rise above them."

"How? No matter what I do I… I just make things worse."

"We would not be having this conversation, were that the case."

Jack blinked at his words. His eyes blurred by tears, he lifted his gaze back to Skyfire.

"You did good today," the mech praised gently. "By stopping the Nemesis, not only did you save your comrades, but an entire metropolis. Many lives are in your debt, including my own."

"But… I was just trying to do what I thought was right… then Trypticon… He was in so much pain…"

"Redemption is not an easy path. But it is a necessary one. So tell me, small one, what will you do now?"

The question hung in the air for a long moment before it began to circle around Jack's head. Still lost in the past, he hadn't even considered what to do for the future. A part of him wanted to continue his dash down the beach. To forget this living nightmare. But another part wanted to stand his ground. To finish the fight.

Today's mission was a victory, but the war was far from over.

Jack closed his eyes, sighing through his nose. He had not felt so torn since he saw his first battle between the Autobots and the Decepticons. Primus, that seemed so long ago. Back then, he had merely watched. He had stood helpless.

Not anymore.

He opened his eyes.

"I… I don't want to stand on the sidelines anymore. I want to help," Jack said. "And… it's time I redeemed the mistakes I made."

After Jack's solemn, reluctant vow, Skyfire said nothing more. Nothing else needed to be said. So a silence stretched between them. It wasn't until the beach was cloaked under the cover of night that they finally stirred. Only for Jack to groan as the soreness radiated through his legs.

Maybe running away after his marathon through Trypticon's systems wasn't a good idea. Or rather, the Nemesis, now. Skyfire offered to carry Jack back to back. The boy fixed him with a skeptical glare.

"I won't fly away, if that's your concern," he reassured.

"I haven't had the best experiences with strangers lately."

"Then good thing we are no strangers."

Skyfire knelt down then, offering an open servo. After everything he had been through, Jack knew there was no reason to take it. But the former Seeker's words were still ringing in his ears. He had made too many mistakes. He couldn't just walk away now, and leave others to deal with the consequences. His father had taught him better than that.

So Jack hesitantly stepped onto Skyfire's palm. Fingers curled around him in a protective cage, careful not to poke him. Although the flyer's talons weren't as sharp as Starscream's or Megatron's, it would no doubt damage a human being. He set off in a slow, lumbering stride. It took a long time before they returned to Hangar E, and it was only then Jack realized how far he had truly run.

There was no band of greetings when they arrived. The Autobots seemed mostly occupied, either being surrounded by a team of technicians, running self-diagnostics, or stretching their circuitry. Raf was buried in his computer with Bumblebee and Perceptor leaning over his shoulder, while Ratchet was inputting something on the console. Miko had gathered a small audience—Bulkhead, Wheeljack, Smokescreen, and Ironhide. Judging by her exaggerated movements and excited yells, she was retelling the story of their mission.

Then a familiar blue form stepped into Skyfire's path.

"Jack, what were you thinking running off like that?" Arcee scolded like an angry mother.

"I-It's nothing," the teenager stammered, only to be interrupted by a second voice.

"Jackson Darby, answer the question," June demanded, strolling up with her hands on her hips.

The poor boy whimpered. He could barely stand his own against one overbearing guardian. But two? Still, he wasn't ready to divulge what he had discovered on the Nemesis to everyone.

So he lied lamely, "I… I just needed some fresh air."

Jack refused to look either of them in the eye as Skyfire gently deposited him on the ground. Of course, his mother didn't believe him for a moment. After all, she could see his distress as clear as day.

"Oh, honey." Her severe expression melted away at her sigh. She rushed over to him, capturing him a tight, unyielding hug. "I was so worried about you."

Jack only hesitated for a moment before he returned her embrace, holding her just as tight. Their soft, loving moment was interrupted by the floor reverberating around them. The boy looked up, only to frown at the sight of Optimus Prime. His stoic gaze was too much like the one he had given Trypticon. The human looked away.

Thankfully he was saved from an awkward confrontation like the last bell of a long school day. Ratchet's voice called out to everyone in the hangar could hear, "Optimus! You are going to want to see this."

"What is it, old friend?" the Prime answered, striding over to the medic, who was still buried in the console.

"Intel. Retrieved by Rafael and the rest of our human compatriots."

"You're welcome, by the way," Miko interjected.

Optimus blinked when he looked upon the monitor. "The Iacon database?"

By now all of the occupants of the warehouse had come to huddle around the pair of 'Bots. Jack had even spied Lennox and Simmons emerging from the shadows, watching from the second railing.

"Although the download may have been incomplete, we now possess five sets of coordinates decoded by the ship," Ratchet reported. "Each targeting locations on this very world."

At his words, a map of Earth appeared on the screen, colored by five dots. On five different continents. It was Lennox that spoke first.

"But that doesn't make any sense," he protested. "One weapon of mass destruction was one thing, but five? Why send them here?"

"We Cybertronians were constructing technology beyond human comprehension long before the start of the war," Optimus explained. "When conflict consumed the planet, the manufacture of illegal weaponry increased exponentially. The Autobots seized many of these doomsday devices and sealed them within the vaults of Iacon. When the capital was besieged, they were jettisoned off-planet to keep them from Decepticon custody. Their locations were then logged in encrypted records for further use."

"The Iacon database," Jack realized quietly.

Lennox only narrowed his eyes. "That didn't answer my question."

The Autobot leader's optics flickered back and forth, looking everywhere but the commander himself. Whether he was looking for an answer or abashed by Lennox's bluntness, Jack was not sure. It wasn't something he saw very often.

Then finally, Optimus admitted reluctantly, "I… do not know. Alpha Trion was responsible for overseeing the shuttles."

"Well, that's comforting," Simmons scoffed, his sarcasm giving voice to everyone's doubts. There were few things outside of the Prime's knowledge.

"Nevertheless, we must act quickly," Optimus insisted, "for as Megatron possesses the same five sets. And he will not hesitate to obtain the lost weaponry that lie at the site of each. If we are to have any hope of recovering the Iacon relics before the Decepticons do, we must divide our resources."

"But Optimus, when it comes to numbers, we are already at a grave disadvantage," Ratchet protested. "Especially now, with one less member to our ranks."

Jack could feel the hair on his back of his neck stand on end as the EM fields around him were filled with distress and sorrow. It was then the empty space between Sideswipe and Sunstreaker became all too obvious. They had yet to find any sign of Mirage, not even during the humans' excursion upon the Decepticon warship. At this point, they could no longer deny his fate.

Optimus closed his optics and did not speak for a long time, as if he was honoring a moment of silence for their fallen comrade.

Finally, he optics his gaze and gave voice to his prayer, "Mirage's courage and sacrifice will not be forgotten. The best way we can honor him, is by continuing this fight. And under these circumstances, swiftness of action is paramount. This is one race that we absolutely cannot afford to lose."