Hot Rod and Jazz turned to face the assembled teams, their rivalry on standby as they listened. The break room an unexpected meeting place as both Wreckers and the Ark Operations bots assembled, many needing repairs as the situation report began.
"We intercepted a 'Con communication that the virus was meant for another. Ultra Magnus opened a data box he shouldn't have, designated for Optimus Prime only. We don't know why Magnus did, but he did thereby unleashing the virus. It was a delivery from Soundwave before the battle with Shockwave, a set up. Shockwave would hurt Ultra Magnus and he is transported here for repairs and they knew he would bring the data box for Prime only he didn't after being hurt but opened it himself," Blurr reported super fast as he always did.
"Soundwave got it from a mercenary named Black Shadow. He works for any bot willing to pay whatever he demands as a price. We confirmed he made the deal here on earth based on signal triangulation and is still here with a buddy of his until payment is received," Hound continued the narrative.
"How much is Optimus worth?" Jazz growled, the threat to Optimus overriding his irritation with the young Wrecker standing nearby.
"A Matrix," Bumblebee answered.
"WHAT!"
"Least you agree on that," Springer noted as they shouted simultaneously.
"What Matrix?" Jazz snapped, sending Arcee a command to lock Solspark in the Ark and never leave her alone until he sent otherwise. Further orders to follow.
"Matrix or a Prime?" Hot Rod snapped a second later, sending a private comm to Arcee to make sure both femmes were always fully armed and ready to fight. Explanations later.
"Black Shadow wants the Matrix of Leadership that Optimus Prime carries. The virus takes him out and it passes to another making it vulnerable to theft in whoever has it next. What else?" Hound clarified, seemingly confused as the others at their line of questioning.
"That's why we are keeping Optimus out of this. We tracked the signal location and felt like dropping in a welcoming party," Skids added.
"And take on the Decepticon army?" Hot Rod asked.
"Intel says even the Decepticons don't trust him. Black is known to betray the buyer mid deal without warning. Decepticons are keeping their distance from a bot willing to sell their own partner out for enough," Kup explained.
"He is a loose wire. No energon off them if Black Shadow or his entourage goes missing. And we owe him for what he did to Magnus," Springer reminded, the deadliness of his tone clear.
"Half of you are on the injured list and couldn't catch a cyber glider moth right now let alone this level of threat," Jazz noted, ignoring his own slung arm.
"That's why I will be accompanying as military strategist," Prowl's announcement could have been screamed and not caused a wilder reaction to his presence. One wing door crumpled and the other hanging low, the security enforcer and designated commander braced in the doorway. "You will need every tactical advantage."
"And who will be running the Ark?" Springer asked, exchanging a surprised look with Kup.
"Ratchet. His is fourth in command as highest medical and fully capable of handling a lesser crew. Optimus returns tomorrow night with the Elita's femmes and the South American exploration team. I would like to welcome him home without the concern of targeted attacks. Skyfire can fly us in with repairs ongoing en route before the target changes locations. The Aerialbots are returning from their training early and will team with the Dinobots to protect our treasures here until we return," Prowl explained.
"Then what are we waiting for lads?" Kup asked, sub spacing his musket laser to check the charge. "Let's go hunting."
"Is it me or are these earth visits getting weirder?" Hot Rod wondered, watching the various mechs checking weapons, doing repairs on the run or transforming and lining up to be transported once they shifted outside.
"Weirder is Prowl on this mission," Kup noted, rubbing the back of his helm with his hand.
"He's a strategist. You heard him," Hot Rod countered looking over and seeing the black and white armored mech consulting with Jazz and Skyfire, neither intimidated by the towering flyer. Arcee pinged in another message, her fury plain at being left but understanding she needed to fight alongside Solspark even if no bot explained why.
"I heard him say, to protect our treasures here," Kup quoted, gesturing back towards the Ark.
"And?"
"Prowl runs on logic. Reasoning conducted according to strict principles."
"His job is being Prime's right hand for running this place and Prime was the virus target," Springer reminded. The overlaid damage on his armor belied the missing propeller blades for his helicopter transform, a sealing cap over the transform cog. The dragging effects of the stun ray faded under his pain as he moved, resolute with purpose that made him Second In Command of the Wreckers.
"Treasures are plural. Mech didn't make a mistake picking that word," Kup stated firmly.
"How does that help us?"
"It's personal. This isn't a mission or revenge, it's to protect. Best motivator in the galaxy are ones of the spark."
"I care about Magnus, Prowl can get in line after I reach Dark Shadow," Springer growled, gesturing to them to transform and load into Skyfire's cargo bay as the super size flier transformed down into his jet mode.
"Of all the circuit glitched dim wittery. He is allowed on this raiding party while Blurr and Trailbreaker are ordered to stay behind and they have lesser injuries," Kup grumped, watching as Springer crawled on, literally on his hands and knees with his both vehicle transforms disabled.
"Eta two hours maximum flight. Every bot strap in, going to push it," the ancient scientist warned while firing up his turbos to their max capability and closing his bay doors. The bots inside braced as his jet mode rumbled before racing ahead and powering to a nearly straight up ascent into the atmosphere to hit the jet stream.
::Well?:: Arcee sent to Hot Rod on their encrypted Wrecker frequency.
::We are loaded inside Skyfire and going silent shortly. No contact until the mission is complete:: Hot Rod
::You said explanations later. It is later. And I love the upgrade you picked for Solspark by the way:: Arcee
::Thanks. An earlier conversation with her provided the processing. And you would not believe the explanation even if I told you:: Hot Rod countered, bracing on his alt wheels as the Jet underneath him shuddered. He trusted the ancient scientist but the idea of being inside and physically surrounded by another mech was still disconcerting to the younger warrior.
::The fact she is or was a Prime? Using my spark pattern numbers as your security code made it easy to crack your files:: Arcee stated, snickering with hearing the sputtering on the other end of the comm line. ::Never say a word to the rest, Wreckers honor. And I prefer the red armor cleaning brush, not the blue one you listed for me on your gift list::
::Fine. Don't let me keep any secrets. You understand what this assassin will do if we fail and he finds you both?:: Hot Rod
::I get my chance to take his spark without backup. Challenge accepted but if you are worried then don't fail. Jazz and Prowl sent me orders to keep her safe without detail, so I am guessing they know and won't say. I will have to try and guess what they use for passwords. Bring me back a souvenir and I call dibs on the next hunting mission. Wreck and rule brother:: Arcee sent, closing the line.
In the recharge room, Solspark vented softly. The transmission line closed without either Wrecker knowing she had listened in. Hot Rod and Jazz wanting to protect her made her feel cherished even as she struggled with the why. 'More bots now know I was a Prime than half my existence as a Matrix Carrier on Cybertron yet not bot is condemning or believe less of me. I do not understand. Was Alpha Trion wrong keeping me hidden and locked down?'
A soft knock on the recharge door warned her before Arcee slid it open. 'You still online Sols? If not, walk it off femme. You got homework from Jazz and I want company," Arcee grinned, gesturing to join her in the other room.
"High grade is in the far cabinet, code lock on it from Prowl but I bet you can break it in a breem," Solspark offered.
"I will save it for celebrating when they return. My status is on duty aft kicker and I want nothing to interfere with my spark taking."
"You always this fight happy?" Solspark raised an optic arch, moving into the main meeting area.
"Wreck and Rule. Evil never rests, why should we?"
"Hmm, not sure I want to answer that one."
"Have to," Arcee pointed at the datapad. "You need to continue lessons on ethics and morality. Important stuff. Dry, boring and required but important to some bot."
"A training requirement for all Operations. I actually covered the subject as medical and other studies," Solspark noted, settling into her favorite chair. A gift from Bluestreak for the new quarters, the adjustable recliner fitting her frame comfortably no matter how she shifted, with the soft blue color reflecting her armor colors.
"Answer this. How are the Autobots different than the Decepticons and did you choose or were drafted?" Arcee asked, a pink armored finger tapping the datapad. She listened to the standard answer from Solspark with a few details added.
"And that is why I joined the Autobots."
"Why not remain a neutral? Scientist and Medical were neutrals early on and during most of the war. Wheeljack is still a civilian scientist."
"Autobots were not fighters in the beginning, for no bot has the right to take another's spark. Neutrals often refused to join either side due to indifference but as the war progressed they either were victims or learned to step up. I was sparked after the war started and saw the results of not doing something. Autobots are defenders who sometimes sacrifice themselves for others."
"Decepticons die by the thousands for Megatron and Starscream on their orders. Are they defenders?"
"No. Autobots protect the defenseless, those who cannot take care of themselves like the wounded and we stand between the enemy in front of us and those we love behind us."
"And when we offline sparklings? How are we any different than the Decepticons?"
"What?"
Arcee became serious, her optics focusing on a spot on the far wall. "A mission vorns ago when the Wreckers were trying to capture Shockwave. He had disappeared off the radar and we tracked him from his victims, he was taking their sparks into portable containment cases and leaving a trail of empty shells. A brilliant evil scientist, command knew either we stopped him then or dealt with a bigger problem later. Intel figured weapons design was his game. It wasn't."
"What was he doing?" Solspark asked, switching her processor modes up without realizing it. Had her energy overlays been normalized instead of Matrix enhanced she might have caught them but didn't. The specialized programming similar to the coding altering her optics layered in, the Matrix created codes accepted into base programming as normal and routine even as it remained fragmented.
"Cloning. Or so we processed at the time of the raid. We found his lab more by accident and discovered eight containment chambers with monsters inside. Claws, horns and twisted frame shapes but they were close to being completed and released. The things were leader class size with a warrior protoform and natural weaponry. We blew the lab to the Well of Sparks using energon grenades at the power cores. Then we found out later they were sparklings, created from the stolen sparks as a breeding program by Shockwave to create Predacon level warriors. We offlined innocent lives not even hatched. So tell me Solspark, how are the we different than the Decepticons?"
"Intent and practice," she answered, feeling the need to have Arcee understand with the pain clear on the other femme's face.
"That fixes everything."
"Your intent was to stop a greater evil and not destroy sparklings. Hear me out," she raised a hand as Arcee started to counter. "Things go wrong, sparks are taken. Whether a mistake on the surgical table or friendly fire on the battlefield or an innocent caught in the crossfire. Our intent is not to target them. If happened once, twice or things go wrong. But we do not aim for it. Decepticons would blow the lab to offline the sparklings then target them again and again. They raided the youth sectors to get recruits and killed any who refused. The weak and unarmed are a chosen target. Decepticons choose to inflict pain as part of a normal protocol. You made a mistake in discerning them as clones. Decepticons a hundred vorns later would create a mission target to offline sparklings knowing it hurts us. Practice. Our horror we carry with regret they embrace and celebrate and plan for. Cruelty is their tool and destruction the result by design and choice. War is horrible and has devastated our race and nearly destroyed Cybertron. If the Decepticons laid down their weapons there would be no more war. If the Autobots laid down their weapons there would be no more Autobots, Earth, Cybertron or anywhere in the galaxy not under Lord Megatron's enslavement. That is why the Primes lead and why we fight."
"Fight to the end." Arcee agreed.
"Here is another difference. Any Decepticon can lay down their allegiance and join the Autobots. We offer medical aid to their wounded and keep prisoners in a brig. What happens to an Autobot they capture? Yes, ask Bumblebee. Intent and practice. They can walk away, and the war will end. Do I want to know what the next lesson question is?"
"That wasn't on here actually, " Arcee admitted, smirking and waving the datapad in the air.
"Say what?"
"Questions are on the differences between stealing from a fellow bot, confiscation of items for protection and war prizes or applying restrictive access to certain dangerous items. I wanted to see your processes on hard situations," Arcee laughed, tossing Solspark the datapad.
"You are a twisted spark you know that?"
"And that's why you love me."
MONTANA STATE, USA
"We are approaching the coordinates indicated," Skyfire's deep vocal echoed throughout his frame, alerting them as holographic displays flashed across his inner walls. Dead trees sagged over a barren landscape pockmarked with stubby bushes, no animal or high life signs detected on the long-range scanners.
"What happened here? The surface has been eroded and destroyed. Did the 'Cons do that? Deep core ion charges?" Bumblebee asked, peering at the relayed image. He paused in the repair on Mirage's leg, one of the few bots short enough to stand upright in the hold and work in his bi pedal mode.
"No, human made. That is the result of strip mining, an abandoned rock quarry to be specific. They retrieve the phosphate, releasing the byproduct selenium into the environment. In small amounts it keeps humans functioning. Here, the selenium poisoned the native aquatic life and made the land uninhabitable for indigenous species," Prowl noted, his alt mode appearing odd with the passenger door missing and bent roofing. The injury too complicated and sensitive to repair, the mech had allowed Jazz to amputate before sealing the energon lines. The cutting and welding to forcible remove it had hurt grievously. Only Jazz knew Prowl had offlined all communications and his vocals to hide the scream of anguish at the procedure, unable to lock out enough of his own damaged sensors. Ratchet's or Prime's wrath at their actions would be dealt with later, providing they all returned.
"Hiding in the middle of devastation, sounds like a 'Con base all right," Hound commented, his Army jeep alt mode the closest vehicle to the bay doors alongside Mirage's racer.
"Get ready. We have one shot at a coasting roll out," Skyfire warned with his engines shutting off abruptly into silence. "I'm going to glide in to unload then blast up beyond tracking range in the upper atmosphere without going subsonic."
"Glide not land?" Hot Rod echoed, feeling gravity pulling in rapid descent as wind whistled by the metal exterior.
"On my mark, releasing bay doors and ramp down now," Skyfire prepped, gauging the narrow distance precisely.
"Mark!" All the alt modes rocked at the skipping impact before rolling out backwards down the ramp and spreading out to the sides, the warriors transforming up with weapons hot. Springer balanced kneeling on Kup's alt mode to ride his way out before rolling off and onto his feet pads.
"Skyfire is running out of air space," Kup gasped, as the ancient red and white jet literally nosed straight up to stall on his tail fins, transforming. Skyfire spun on his feet pads, tearing up earth trenches to the dying forest edge, his arms swinging to keep balance before transforming straight up, feet tucking up as his nose pointed skyward and blasting straight up like a rocket. Trees cracked and fell in the after wash, the sound muted as their husks collapsed, the wood poisoned and rotted from the core.
"Did Prime teach him that?" Jazz asked, recognizing the spinning pattern to slow momentum and keep control.
"More uses than just the battlefield," Prowl confirmed, running multiple scenarios simultaneously with continuous updating. "Scouts go! We should be undetected. The rest of you continue repairs and standby for action."
"Reminds me of the sneak attack on Tri Citi Galvez. We could have used Prowl's expertise in strategy then," Kup commented while watching Hound, Bumblebee, and Mirage move out.
"A war story? Everywhere reminds you of somewhere else you have already been," Hot Rod teased, waiting.
"Comes with experience lad. And you're living one now." Kup replied, scanning for danger.
DARK SHADOW BASE, MONTANA, USA
"Got some funny readings on the base," Hound noted, displaying the shifting image in a 3-d hologram for all to see. Bumblebee and Mirage remained at the site, observing and tracking movement while he reported back.
"It's not a base, it's a ship. A DVX class Heavy Transport. Capable of faster-than-light travel and armed with high-energy lasers and plasma torpedoes and buried three quarters of the way in the loose rocks," Prowl detailed, recognizing it.
"We need a way in without disturbing half that rock pile," Kup noted.
"Springer, you are our flyer. Where would you land for entry?' Prowl asked, waiting for confirmation.
"There," the green armored triple changer pointed at a side hatch image. "Rest are too easy to target, and I would keep them locked. Land here," he tapped the screen. "Slide in and go."
"I confirm. Ground team one will make entry there," Prowl tapped the hatch marking it red. "Team two stand perimeter then clear engine room and launch bays," his hand tapped multiple spots around the ship. "Team three will breach this side to rescue team one and two or keep an escape route clear upon my command should the unexpected occur."
"You're expecting resistance that strong?"
"Would not be a strategist if I did not have contingency plans active and Black Shadow makes his living from offlining our kind, Decepticon and Autobot alike with the worst of methods and stolen technology," Prowl reminded. The mechs spread out, filing into teams as Jazz conferred with Prowl quietly.
"Which team is Jazz on?" Kup prodded, seeing an equal split between skill specialties and weapon users among the strike teams.
"None. He doesn't need a team," Skids commented, uploading his spare rocket piece.
"Is he really that dangerous?"
"Reputation says so. The number of sparks he has taken is a highly restricted count, but I wouldn't challenge him. No bot here would."
SHADOW SHIP SITE, ENTRY TEAMS
::I don't like this. Are we sure this is not a trap? No alarms or trigger guards in place on any doorway yet:: Bumblebee sent, moving into the second hallway unimpeded. Hound trailed at the outer doors, ensuring the passage remained clear behind them as the other team made entry before catching up.
::Probably feels confident in his own ship. Megatron and crew hid in the downed Nemesis for almost a year while we processed them offline:: Mirage reminded, suddenly blocking Bumblebee and pointing down as he materialized out of the air.
::Laser grid trip lines:: Bumblebee confirmed. Transforming his outer fingers, the tool enhancements made sort work of the wall control panel. :Basic wiring, standard location panel and I would say arrogant not confident::
::Would you look at that:: Hound soundlessly whistled, the sound transmitting over the comm lines as he moved into the chamber with them. The room's clear plasma cases, floor to ceiling, wall to wall displayed a trove of varied items. No labels or plaques identified them yet recognizable as Cybertronian.
::Sending images now. Anything worth grabbing on our way out let us know:: Bumblebee sent the images rapidly and wide signal.
::Confirming authenticity of items. Payments or trophies of Dark Shadow:: Prowl replied.
::Hey look:: Bumblebee stopped in front of a wide but low-level case.
::Is that?:: Hot Rod asked, recognizing the shape transmitted in the images.
::A replica of Megatron's arm cannon, flattened with tread marks:: Mirage said.
::Not a replica. Prime flattened it in battle by running over it on Simfur and it was never found. A prize or payment, target is not above extortion or robbery even from his own buyers:: Prowl corrected.
::I claim dibs for Arcee. She asked for a souvenir and every femme likes bad aft weaponry:: Hot Rod sent.
::Can we get on with this already? The only Prize I want is Dark Shadow's head for Magnus when he on lines. And keep the chatter down. This is a mission not a training conference:: Springer sent, his team clearing the engine room the deck below.
Across the ship, two sets of red optics watched the mechs moving through their ship intently from the flight console. Blue Bacchus snorted, tapping out entries to identify the ones currently in the engine room. "Wrecker and Autobot. No threat. Pity they die so easily, or it might be a challenge. We should double our payment request for dealing with them if there wasn't only one Prime left." The blue armored mech sneered, bracing against the console with his arms. Sleek and taller, he reflected his streamline spaceship form unlike his boss's solid frame.
Dark Shadow vented, agreeing with his criminal partner. None of them were categorized a threat level to his systems, their kind lacking the cruelty of the Decepticons or other space races known for conquering. "Bacchus buy me some time. I need to initialize the Apex armor to wear it. Then meet me north escape hatch. Let these fools roll here while we lay our next trap."
"How? I cannot defeat that many spread out even with my speed draw. And my anti-gravity puller won't work in these close quarters."
"Strike at a few then use your bargaining skills. Show them a prize, one that will enrage them and then take their sparks with your precision shooting. Autobot emotions are their weakness, caring and honor and duty to their Prime. Blah. Wipe the corridor with their sentimental frames and while the others mourn their fallen and wonder if they are the next victims we leave," Dark Shadow ordered.
Fifteen minutes later, Prowl swore at the injury report before updating scenarios. ::Evacuate out Bumblebee and Springer. Rest continue high alert and engage. Confirm injury to target?::
::Blue Bacchus and not a fatal hit. Bumblebee tagged him before going down. Slagger used hidden panels. Dropped in, fired and disappeared this ship section. Bumblebee's modifications protected his spark and Springer's armor slagged but held or we could have lost them both. Target is leaving an energon trail but I am unable to pursue:: Hound growled, the anger in his tone clear.
::On it. He's in my lane:: Jazz sent, realizing the backside of the hidden panel crossed into his narrow hallway between storage rooms. Energon colored drops on the floor confirmed the other's path as he moved.
Jazz stopped, tracking fluid drops to the ship hallway's corner's edge. His enhanced optics spun behind the visor, analyzing each drop pattern to recognize the last two were different with their shapes drawn out by rapid movement. His arm shield spun into place as he crouched anticipating the attack, the incoming blast reflected straight back automatically. White arc light dappled across the wall reflecting as the sounds of metal crunching had him peering over the shield's rounded edge.
Blue Bacchus leaned on the wall, his mid riff armor smoking and cratered, the damaged blaster falling from his hand with Jazz's reflected attack. Scorch marks from Bumblebee's blaster crossed his chest frame as energon seeped out the small hole on his left side. "You! I traded with you galaxy wide on stolen artifact cargo information for energon. The Cybertronian bounty on my head is greater than all your payments combined but you are not here for that are you? Is it revenge or do you seek a treasure? Glory in victory? I have faced greater than you little mech and survived. Your shield will make a nice addition to this prize."
Dull in the light, the sword subspaced down Bacchus arm from his shoulder to nearly touch the floor. The sword's elongated handle was scrolled with ancient glyphs with the double honed edge blade clearly designating it a Transformer relic. "Took this from a Prime on Cybertron. He fought two battles after his title announcement. Then the sword became mine, as his spark was no longer in being Prime, or should I say in him after I shattered it!" He laughed, a dark hollow sound of cruelty intermixed. "A pity it won't light. Only a worthy carrier of a Matrix can ignite it or so the hilt glyphs state. The Prime perished begging me to spare his troops, worthy of only contempt for his weakness. What are you worthy of?" He raised the sword, tip out. "Tell me Autobot, will you offline to save your friends and family?"
To be continued…
Author's Notes: Shockwave lab and the sparklings are from Transformers Prime episode where he was cloning Predacons. Technically they were adult clones ready to fight but I have seen the argument made for being sparklings as new. And Solspark's upgrade from Hot Rod will be revealed later. Until all are one.