Notes: Chapter Warnings: This chapter is 50% guardian protocols and 50% unrepentant Seeker bitchiness. Enjoy!
The proximity alarm echoed loudly in the expansive hangar, a reverberation that Sam could almost feel in his bones. A flash of movement in the corridor caught his attention, and he turned in time to see a red Aston Martin, a red and orange Lamborghini, and a red Ferrari streak past the open entryway. Sam glanced back at Bumblebee, a frown pulling at the corners of his mouth.
"Starscream?" He asked in surprise, "Is he alone?"
Bumblebee rumbled, low in his chassis, "At present."
Sam's frown deepened. He could not imagine a reason for the Seeker to come to Diego Garcia, alone, so shortly after the failed parlay. If Starscream was intending to attack, he would have brought reinforcements, and if he was looking to negotiate, he would have transmitted his intentions prior to his arrival. Before Sam could voice his confusion, his cell phone began buzzing insistently in his pocket. The sensation startled him, interrupting his train of thought. Sam pulled out his phone, glancing down at the display—and then his breath froze in his lungs.
Judith Witwicky.
Sam's world narrowed down to the 5.5 inch display and then, all at once, he felt very calm. The klaxon wail of the proximity alarm faded away as he accepted the call, steady hands bringing the phone up to his ear.
"Ma?"
"Sammy, what's going on?"
"It's a Decepticon sighting, nothing to worry about." He reassured her, his voice composed and confident, "I'm coming to get you. Can you get to the bridge entrance?"
Sam glanced up at Bumblebee, who nodded once in understanding, and then he transformed into his alt mode. As soon as his tires hit concrete, his driver's side door swung open. Sam wasted no time, climbing into the cab as he instructed his mother to get dressed and to make her way out of North Quad. As he disconnected the call, Bumblebee drove out of the hangar, accelerating as he turned down the corridor towards the bridge.
/Bumblebee and Sam, en route to North Quad./
/You are supposed to be headed to the ground bridge./ Prowl replied immediately. His voice was calm and serious.
"I'm not going anywhere until I get my parents." Sam replied, just as seriously.
/Red Alert and Inferno are in the process of evacuating North Quad. They will bring your parents to the ground bridge./
Bumblebee did not alter his speed or direction, and Sam pressed an appreciative hand against the Autobot insignia emblazoned on the steering wheel.
"Tell them not to worry about it. We're on our way."
There was a protracted pause—a weighted silence, even by human standards—and then Prowl's voice washed over the cabin.
/Acknowledged./
Bumblebee's engine revved loudly, and Sam watched as the speedometer needle inched higher. 20 miles per hour. 30. 35. 40. The Transformer-sized rooms of West Quad flashed past them as they approached the bridge entrance. As they flew past the medical bay, a familiar Search and Rescue vehicle pulled into the corridor behind them. Sam twisted in his seat, grasping the headrest with both hands as he stared at Ratchet's alt mode through the back window. The medic flashed his high beams once, and Sam felt a swell of appreciation that he did not attempt to hide.
He turned around, settling back into the driver's seat as Bumblebee exited West Quad. The bridge was a bustle of activity in comparison to the quiet of the Autobot's section of the Hive. People streamed through the cavernous tunnel in both directions—soldiers hurrying south, while administrative personnel and civilian support staff walked north. Despite the press of bodies and the blare of the proximity alarm, Sam quickly realized that people were calm and orderly. The bridge was divided into two lanes: one for foot traffic, the other for vehicle traffic. As they accelerated towards north, Ratchet activated his sirens. The strobing red and white lights accompanied them through the bridge, causing both vehicle and pedestrian traffic to give them a wide berth.
As they approached the large, red doors of North Quad, Sam noticed two unfamiliar Autobots standing in their bipedal modes. Both were plated in red, white and black, but one had an impressive shoulder-mounted rocket launcher, while the other's chest plates were made up of the front end of a fire truck. In addition to the two Autobots, a handful of NEST soldiers stood in a cluster around the North Quad entrance. They were dressed in full combat gear with M4s slung over their chests. Together, the Autobots and the NEST personnel were clearly directing traffic as people streamed onto the bridge.
Sam sat up straighter as Bumblebee slowed to a stop, his eyes darting over the harried, disoriented-looking people in varying states of dress. He could not see his parents anywhere in the crowd and the realization sent a stab of anxiety through him.
/I have them./ Ratchet replied promptly, /We are almost to the bridge./
The medic's words caused a wave of relief that left Sam feeling weak-kneed in response. He pressed close to Ratchet's signature, a wordless gesture of appreciation, as Bumblebee opened the driver's side door. Sam quickly climbed out of the cab, making his way through the dozens of people milling in the corridor and striding towards the quad entrance. As he approached, one of the soldiers standing sentry near the large, red doors held up a restraining hand.
"North Quad is off limits during the evacuation. Please make your way to East Quad as quickly as possible."
Sam stared at the soldier incredulously for the space of a heartbeat, and then he narrowed his eyes.
"Get out of my way." He replied. He was distantly surprised that his voice was perfectly level.
The soldier turned to look at him, his expression darkening in disapproval, but before he could speak, Sam heard his mother call out over the din of the corridor.
"Sammy!"
Sam's head snapped up, following the sound of his mother's voice. After only a moment or two, he caught sight of her in the throng of people. She was walking with her arms crossed tightly over her chest, her face unusually pale. His father walked beside her, his thinning hair standing in complete disorder. Ratchet's holoform was at his mother's side, an imminently calm expression on his face, while Dave Carter walked beside his father. The agent was dressed for bed, wearing loose fitting sleep pants and a long sleeved Packer's shirt. To Sam's amusement, the agent was also wearing thin-framed glasses—he hadn't even realized that Dave wore contact lenses.
As the group passed through the large red doors onto the bridge, Sam stepped around the soldier in front of him to embrace his mother. He smiled at her, his expression all levity and good humor.
"And you thought fire drills were annoying." He said, cheerfully.
His mother stared back at him, her expression hard and searching. Before he could speak, however, one of the red, white, and black mechanoids stepped towards them, a serious expression on his faceplates.
"Please, Dave, Sam, Mr. and Mrs. Witwicky, I must ask that you proceed in an orderly fashion to East Quad."
/Red Alert./ Bumblebee informed him helpfully.
"Thank-you, Red Alert." Sam replied, guiding his mother away from the bridge entrance, "It's nice to finally meet you."
"You as well," Red Alert replied, briskly, "but further introductions will have to wait, I am afraid. We have approximately seven hundred people to evacuate and precious little time to do it."
Sam nodded in understanding, guiding his mother towards Bumblebee's waiting alt mode. As they approached, Bumblebee opened both of his doors and inclined his seats forward. Sam's mother and father climbed into the back of the cab and, as soon as Bumblebee re-adjusted his seats, Sam and Carter slipped into the front. As soon as they were settled into their seats, Bumblebee's doors snapped closed, and he reversed in a three-point turn and accelerated towards East Quad. Ratchet fell into pace behind them moments later.
"Oh thank goodness, it's quieter in here." His mother breathed, "That alarm is loud enough to split your skull in two."
"Yeah, it's loud." Sam agreed, "They'll shut it off as soon as the activation is over."
"How long will that take?" His father asked, voice tight.
Carter turned in his seat, opening his mouth to reply, when Sam cut him off.
"Not long. As soon as the Decepticon sighting has been checked out."
His father's gaze flicked towards him, his dark brown eyes so flinty that they looked almost black.
"So, what now?" He asked, gruffly, "We go twiddle our thumbs in a bomb shelter or something?"
"We are heading to East Quad, back to the ground bridge hangar." Dave replied, matter-of-factly, "In the unlikely scenario that the Decepticon sighting requires the Autobots to engage in combat, all civilians will be transported to Nellis Air Force Base via the ground bridge."
"In the 'unlikely' scenario, huh?" His father replied, and Sam could tell by the tone of his voice that he wasn't buying what Carter was selling, "Just how unlikely are we talking about here?"
Dave turned in his seat to pin Sam's father with a level look.
"With any luck? Unlikely enough."
Before his father could reply, Bumblebee slowed as he approached the large double doors of the ground bridge hangar. Four soldiers in full combat gear and holding heavy-looking assault rifles stood in pairs on either side of the wide entrance. They watched the stream of civilian support staff with sharp eyes and no-nonsense expressions on their faces. As Bumblebee neared, they snapped off crisp-looking salutes, before one soldier stepped forward. The middle-aged man extended one arm towards the hangar, waving his other hand in a 'move forward' gesture. Bumblebee obliged him, and shortly thereafter, he came to a stop within the hangar and opened his doors.
Sam and Carter climbed out of the cab, before turning to help his parents awkwardly clamber over the seats. As soon as his passengers were clear, Bumblebee rolled back several feet and then transformed. Sam turned, taking in the sights around them. The ground bridge hangar was bustling with activity. There had to be hundreds of people milling about and talking quietly amongst themselves. The result was a loud din of commotion that was audible even over the shrill wail of the proximity alarm. The ground bridge was located in the center of the space, and it was afforded a wide berth by all of the people surrounding it. That may have had something to do with the uniformed soldiers standing sentry around the archway with 'take no bullshit' expressions on their faces.
Ultra Magnus stood in his bipedal mode, surveying the hangar with a sharp, assessing optics. At his side stood First Aid, also in his bipedal mode. The medic's demeanor was alert and serious, but far less imposing than Ultra Magnus' stern countenance. Sam glanced over his shoulder in time to see Ratchet finish his transformation, and then the CMO made his way across the hangar. People scattered out of his way as he walked, like Moses parting the Red Sea. He eventually took up position beside Ultra Magnus, his arms folded over his chassis as the two officers conversed in low tones.
As Sam stared at the three mechanoids, Bumblebee crouched down beside him. The yellow scout bracketed Sam's body between his knee struts, his optics impossibly bright in his otherwise inscrutable face. Sam angled his head so that he could look up at him. He could feel Bumblebee's restlessness through their bond, a sort of tense and wary anticipation overlaid with fierce protectiveness. Sam smiled faintly, reaching out a hand to grasp the scout's cheek plate.
"Hey, it's alright." Sam murmured, giving the cheek plate an affectionate tug, "Not even Starscream is stupid enough to attack the base by himself."
"Starscream?" His mother asked, causing Sam to startle in surprise, "Which one is that?"
He glanced over his shoulder to see that both his parents and Carter had stepped close while he had been woolgathering, close enough to have overheard his words to Bumblebee despite the noise of the hangar. Behind his parents, Dave winced apologetically.
"It's not polite to eavesdrop, Ma." Sam replied dryly.
"Answer the question, Sam." His father commanded, sharply.
Sam stared at him for a long moment. His father's posture was tense, his face flushed, and Sam knew that his efforts at levity had been wholly unsuccessful. Unable to see any way around it, Sam shrugged helplessly and obeyed him.
"Starscream is one of the Decepticon jets. They are fast and agile, but they have minimal defenses."
"Is he dangerous?"
"All Decepticons are dangerous, Mr. Witwicky." Dave replied matter-of-factly, "But one Seeker does not pose a significant threat to the base."
Sam's father turned to look at the agent, suspicion written all over his face.
"Really? If he is not a threat, then why is all of this necessary?" His father demanded, gesturing around them.
"Well, that's because Starscream is an asshole." Dave replied, dryly, "Sir."
Dave's words startled a bark of genuine laughter from Sam, and he grinned at the agent appreciatively.
"He's totally an asshole." Sam agreed.
All of a sudden, Bumblebee tensed from helm to pede. The yellow scout's plating flared, as though in a threat display, but his battlemask did not engage. Sam glanced up at him in confusion, only to see that Ratchet, Ultra Magnus, and First Aid were talking animatedly to each other, their faceplates arranged in nearly identical expressions of angry disbelief.
"What is it?" Sam demanded, anxiously.
"It's Starscream." Bumblebee replied at once, his tone openly irritated.
"What about him?"
Bumblebee glanced down at him, raising one shoulder in a shrug, "He says that he's waiting."
Thundercracker pulled up as he neared the ground, his thrusters blowing up clouds of sand and debris before he initiated his transformation sequence. A moment later, he landed in his bipedal mode at the edge of the southernmost airfield, a short distance away from his trinemates. Starscream paced along the edge of the semi-transparent energy barrier that encompassed the Autobot base, his wings flaring with impatience. As Thundercracker watched, his Air Commander extended the clawed tip of one digit to flick at the obstruction. A burst of electromagnetic energy rippled along the barrier in every direction, as though a stone had been dropped in a pond.
Skywarp turned to regard Thundercracker as he approached.
"You made it." He replied, dryly, "I wondered whether you had gotten lost."
Thundercracker narrowed his optics at the teleporter, scoffing audibly.
"I have neither Starscream's impulsiveness nor your warp capabilities. I had to make do with common sense and a cobbled-together flight plan."
Skywarp shrugged dismissively, folding his arms over his chassis. Thundercracker turned his attention back towards his Air Commander, who continued to pace back and forth in front of the energy barrier. After several breems of tense silence, Thundercracker glanced back towards Skywarp.
"Any word yet?" He asked, lowly.
"No, but Screamer didn't ping them until he had already arrived."
Thundercracker scoffed again, this time in open disapproval.
"Of course he didn't."
Before Skywarp could reply, Thundercracker's visual display erupted in a cascade of proximity warnings. He shunted aside his battle protocols to his secondary processor and ran through his systems checks as a force of habit. In the distance, he could make out numerous approaching vehicles, their headlights cutting a swath through the darkness. As the distant sound of engines grew louder, Thundercracker and Skywarp exchanged a look of grim anticipation.
"It's about time." Starscream seethed, his wings drawing up in irritation, "Did they expect an engraved invitation?"
Thundercracker did not reply to his trine leader; instead, his optics focused on the approaching vehicles. As they neared the section of the airfield illuminated by floodlights, the identity of the ground frames became readily apparent. Optimus Prime drove front and center, his alt mode unmistakable even at a distance. He was flanked by a black and white Dodge charger, a military green pick-up truck, and a black GMC Topkick. In the distance, still more vehicles approached. Thundercracker caught glimpses of colorful plating and halogen lights, before turning his attention back towards his Air Commander. Starscream stood at the edge of the energy barrier, his body rigid and his faceplates twisted with impatience. Wordlessly, Thundercracker and Skywarp assumed their positions on his left and right flank respectively, watching the approaching Autobots with more than a little tension.
Prime came to a stop a short distance away and then he began to transform. The three vehicles that had accompanied him to the energy barrier quickly follow suit, and soon the bipedal modes of Prime's secondary commanders were visible in the darkness. They stood in a loose semi-circle behind him, their weapons primed and their battlemasks engaged. The remainder of their reinforcements took up position half a league away.
Starscream snapped his digits impatiently, gesturing towards the energy shield.
"Do you expect me to converse with you through plasma?" He asked, scathingly, "If I wanted to attack, I wouldn't be standing here right now."
Prime stepped forward, his brilliant blue optics narrowed over his battle mask. After a moment, and without any outward cue from the Autobot leader, the energy field shimmered and then disappeared. Immediately, Starscream stepped forward, standing pede to pede with the taller warbuild.
"Is it true?" He demanded, returning Prime's heated gaze, "Did Megatron share charge with the boy?"
Thundercracker grimaced internally at the Air Commander's tactlessness, but he could not deny that it had an effect. Behind the Autobot leader, two of his secondary commanders stiffened as though in surprise. The bulky weapon's specialist shifted from pede to pede, rumbling low in his chassis—an ominous sound that was echoed by the Elite Guard. Thundercracker had less than an astrosecond to wonder, incredulously, whether Prime had kept this information from his senior officers, when the Autobot leader pinned his trinemate with a disapproving stare.
"I am not about to indulge your grotesque curiosity, Starscream." Prime replied, naked enmity in his voice.
Starscream waved a servo, as though brushing aside the Prime's words.
"Spare me your sanctimoniousness," Starscream snapped, "I have already played twenty questions with one enigmatic mech, I will not do so with another."
"Watch your tone, Seeker." Ironhide growled, his voice like molten metal.
Starscream folded his arms over his chassis, lifting his chin a fraction of an inch to stare down his nasal ridge at the weapon's specialist.
"Be silent, you knuckle-dragging ground pounder. Your betters are speaking."
Ironhide's optics narrowed into azure slits, his frame tensing in obvious aggression. Thundercracker's fuel pump missed a beat, and he keyed up his flight protocols as a matter of course—even working together, his trine stood no chance in a ground battle against even a single war-frame. Before he could take action, however, Optimus Prime turned to regard his secondary commander. An unspoken conversation passed between them, and then the weapon's specialist crossed his arms and nodded minutely. The Autobot leader turned back to Starscream, his optics sharp and assessing.
"What is the purpose of this meeting, Air Commander?"
"I want to know to what extent the Supreme Commander of my Armada has bastardized my Creator protocols to serve his own ends." Starscream seethed, his tone sharp with proprietary fury.
"What happened to my ward in your custody is not a topic that I am willing to discuss." Prime rumbled ominously.
Starscream's affront burned through their bond, but before he could voice his anger, Thundercracker cleared his intakes insistently. Both the Prime and his Air Commander turned to regard him, one in expectation and the other in indignation.
"Respectfully, Prime, I see no value in doublespeak or innuendo. We are fully aware of what happened to Sam while he was in Megatron's custody." Thundercracker stated, flatly, "We are here to determine what is to be done about it."
Ironhide scoffed derisively, "What are you suggesting? Do you plan to move against your Master? Do you plan to defect?"
"Not hardly." Starscream snapped, "The Vosian Armada will never be commanded by a Prime."
Before Ironhide could retort, Prime held up a quelling servo. The weapon's specialist fell silent, but his optics remained narrowed in Starscream's direction.
"I have already informed you of our terms. I will accept nothing less than Megatron's unconditional surrender."
Starscream drew himself up to his full height, staring considerately up at the Autobot leader. After a moment, he jutted out a hip strut, and tapped the slender tip of one digit against his chin.
"You will accept nothing less than his unconditional surrender." Starscream repeated, thoughtfully, "And if Megatron will not surrender?"
Optimus's blue optics shone preternaturally bright in the darkness of the airfield. When next he spoke, it was with grim determination, the kind born of unspeakable loss.
"Then I will accept his death."
Starscream's optics sharpened as a predatory smile spread slowly across his face.
"Well then. I suppose that makes everything a great deal simpler, doesn't it?"