"Information extraction unsuccessful," Soundwave announced.
"What do you mean, 'unsuccessful'?" Megatron asked dangerously.
"Autobot Prowl is possessed of formidable mental barriers," Soundwave intoned.
He'd never admit to anyone, or even out loud to himself, but the black and white mech's mental discipline had highly impressed him.
The Decepticon commander glared into the cell.
The tactician's calmness infuriated Megatron.
Prowl glanced up with an air of disinterest as the Decepticon stormed into the cell.
Resisting Soundwave's mental probing had taken a good deal of cerebral concentration, and he felt slightly fuzzy.
But no more so than after half an hour or so of Jazz's tv soaps.
Prowl bit back a smile at the thought as Megatron fronted him.
"You begin to annoy me Prowl," he growled, "Tell me what you are hiding, or you will suffer the consequences,"
Prowl folded his arms.
Silently.
"Very well, Autobot."
Megatron activated his commlink.
"Starscream, send in our...skilled negotiators,"
He leaned in menacingly.
"Pain is a highly effective tool," the Decepticon hissed as Astrotrain and Ramjet swaggered in, cracking knuckle-joints.
Prowl eyed them without visible fear.
"Inflict all the damage you can manage, but I still won't tell you anything,"
"We'll "inflict damage" Autobot, don't go doubting that," Astrotrain sniggered as Megatron marched out.
"Your commander doesn't get his own hands dirty, does he?" Prowl said dryly.
Ramjet drove him back against the cell wall with such force the Datsun's windshield and police lights shattered.
"Hehehe, good one Ramjet," the purple triplechanger grinned.
He eyed the Autobot tactician, pinned by Ramjet's full weight, and zeroed in on his injured door-panels.
Ravage had left several deep vertical slashes on both.
Astrotrain deliberately drew the fingertips of one hand across the slashes, pressing hard, dragging great pieces of Energon-stained paintwork off.
Fresh Energon flowed as he looked the Autobot in the optics with a malevolent grin.
Prowl refused to break optic contact, and he refused to make a sound.
He felt intuitively that the big Decepticon got his kicks from watching beings, metal or flesh, suffer, and he wasn't going to give him that satisfaction.
No matter how agonizing it was.
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"Well?" Megatron demanded of his two "heavies," glancing at the Energon on their casings that wasn't their own.
"Zilch," Astrotrain complained, flexing his hands.
He was more than slagged off.
They'd given the Autobot their best going-over, and not only would he not speak, he hadn't made any sound.
Not even when held down by their combined weight and his midsection casing literally torn open.
Where was the fun in torturing someone when you couldn't make them beg you to stop?
"Get out of my sight," Megatron growled, his fury apparent in every syllable.
Astrotrain and Ramjet quickly made themselves scarce.
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"Have fun?" Thundercracker hissed in something like disgust, eyeing the Energon on their fronts.
Ramjet ignored him, but Astrotrain faced him with an arrogant smile.
"Yeah. But Autobots are weaklings, you have to stop before the fun really starts."
"I hear you didn't get a word out of him," Thundercracker needled, "You're a slagging sadist Astrotrain. Even if he had spilled his innards you wouldn't have stopped until he was unconscious or dead."
Astrotrain drove him against the wall in fury.
"Go ahead, you lump of harlequin metal," Thundercracker sneered.
He submitted, knowing full well how much the triplechanger hated it when opponents didn't struggle.
"Go on! Or don't you have the ball bearings? I'm not an Autobot half your size, am I?" the Seeker spat.
He'd never understood how anyone could enjoy inflicting such deliberate suffering.
Until he'd met Astrotrain, that was.
The triplechanger shook him, once, then common sense took over.
Starscream and Skywarp were both present.
While Astrotrain knew Starscream didn't really care too much about Thundercracker the person, he highly valued him as a wingmate in battle.
Skywarp was definitely a Friend, however, and Astrotrain knew the two Seekers wouldn't tolerate Thundercracker being injured at his hands.
He let go and stalked off.
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Megatron was seething; nothing he'd tried worked to break the tactician's iron will.
Mental probing hadn't worked, physical pain hadn't worked, but Megatron had another way.
Emotional blackmail.
Prowl saw the Decepticon commander appear at the cell's barred door, but did not acknowledge him.
Megatron eyed the Autobot second in command, upright on the bench, leaning against the wall.
His door-panels were a mishmash of Energon, bare patches and cuts, the black and white barely visible, and hanging at awkward angles.
One arm was pressed to his bleeding midsection, and Megatron realized casing was missing.
He was dented and damaged from crest to toes.
An involuntary but at the same time self-satisfied shiver went through the Decepticon, as he imagined how Optimus Prime would react to this sight.
"Poor fool," he said condescendingly, "Is it worth it Prowl?"
The Autobot slowly faced him.
"Yes," he half gasped, half growled, icy blue optics locking with red.
He turned back painfully, hand on chest.
"My Constructicons are putting the finishing touches on a weapon of devastation as we speak," the Decepticon commander informed him slowly, hoping to shake the Autobot second in command.
Prowl did not react.
"And once I have tested it, by levelling the Ark and every Autobot in it, I think I'll go on a tour of the earth's greatest sights," Megatron sneered.
"Sydney Harbour Bridge...the Acropolis...the Pyramids...Eiffel Tower...Empire State Building...all will be obliterated, followed by the cities that surround them, unless the worthless humans hand over enough energy reserves to get me back to Cybertron.
And without you sentimental fools to protect them, they will have no choice!
Then, my ultimate goal: A Cybertron without Autobots,"
Megatron strolled to the bank of computer consoles opposite the cells, and switched on a monitor.
"I actually believed it," he said, watching again Laserbeak's footage of Prowl decking Ironhide.
"Optimus Prime's trusty second in command, acting completely out of character. I'm surprised you weren't thrown out on your aft Prowl, following this little stunt,"
"Autobots do not abandon each other," Prowl informed him flatly.
"And why are you showing me this?" he demanded with an effort.
Megatron gave him a cold smile.
"I thought you might want to see your friends-" he emphasized the word with a sneer "- as how they saw you last, before I scatter their molecules across the solar system,"
Prowl felt his Energon run cold.
"Tell me what you are hiding, and as I told Prime, I may consider killing you quickly. If you don't, it will be bye-bye Ark, and all those inside its walls,"
The sardonic Decepticon held up a small remote chip.
Prowl got to his feet painfully, and got to the cell door reasonably steadily, only through sheer will.
"Harm them, any of them, and Primus help me, I'll kill you myself," Prowl spat.
The Decepticon leader leaned in close.
"You don't have it in you Prowl."
"Try me Megatron. Just try me."
Prowl did not break visual contact, and Megatron experienced, to his utter astonishment, a split astrosecond of apprehension at the look in the Autobot's optics.
The Decepticon quickly recovered and gave him a superior laugh.
"Difficult to do, when you're behind bars Prowl. Now tell me-" he held the chip out in his palm, finger poised, "What are you hiding? Most of the Autobots are in the Ark right now, only a handful remain elsewhere on this pathetic planet. Perfect timing for a test run, wouldn't you agree?"
Prowl clenched his fists so that his knuckle-joints cracked.
It went against orders, protocol, and his own strong personal sense of right...but the alternative was sit back and watch the Ark, Optimus Prime, and the Autobots be destroyed.
I will never let that happen.
Outwardly, he was cool and collected, but inside he was frenetic.
He knew Jazz had understood his underground message, but what could Prime do about it?
None of the Autobots knew where this weapon was.
Prowl had a fair idea, but he had no way of contacting the Ark; his captors had made sure to damage his radio and commlinks.
The main diagnostics for the thing were obviously in this rocky hideout...and were probably well-guarded.
Prowl considered the possibilities.
If he could get to it, he may be able to destroy the weapon via its control centre.
But could he find it before the Decepticons found him?
Probably not, the base was swarming with nearly the entire compliment of Megatron's troops.
He tensed involuntarily as a wave of pain shot forth from his door-panels.
"I carry a fatal virus, one that could kill every Transformer, on Earth and on Cybertron,"
Prowl said quietly.
Megatron's optics actually paled a shade or two.
"You are infected?" he demanded, dropping the hand clutching the remote.
"No. I was to bring it to Earth so we could destroy it, permanently."
Prowl felt his legs weaken, forcing him back onto the bench, to his annoyance.
"Wait...you carry nothing!" Megatron declared, "We detected nothing in the full body scans!"
"It is impervious to regular scans," the tactician informed him quietly, "It is shielded with a layer of triaxium alloy."
Megatron paused.
The Autobot's explanation was too simple to be a lie.
"Give it to me, and I will have it disposed of,"
"I cannot. It is embedded in my system. If you try to extract it from me -dead or alive- you will unleash it on yourselves."
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Prowl listened to the Decepticon commander leave the cell block, and gingerly touched his gaping midsection.
The bleeding was slowing, and it didn't hurt as badly as Astrotrain had obviously hoped it would.
In tearing off the tactician's midsection casing, he had destroyed a great many nerve motor relays, numbing the resulting pain.
The head to toe buffeting had given Prowl lots of dents and scrapes, and probably given the Decepticon "negotiators" sore knuckles, but the pain level was acceptable.
His door-panels hurt him the most, but were no longer bleeding.
Prowl recalled Ratchet's instructions, the ones he'd insisted on repeating and repeating to ensure every Autobot memorized them.
"If you're injured and away from medical attention, ie: me, first thing is to stay calm.
Try to stop any bleeding, and if possible, just keep as still as you can to give your self-repair systems a chance to go to work."
Prowl decided to allow himself about fifteen minutes, and felt his self-repair systems -the ones that were functional- "go to work" as he settled himself carefully on the bench.
What do you know, the tactician thought wryly as he counted down the minutes, the memorizing worked.
Fifteen minutes up and pain control accomplished, he turned his concentration to getting out of this cell.
Prowl eased himself up and thoroughly examined the cell door.
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"Come on Prime, let's move," Ironhide urged, already transformed along with Jazz.
Optimus Prime looked over the rest of the Autobots he'd selected for the rescue raid.
He was proud of how quickly his troops had dropped the collective grudge against Prowl.
"All right Autobots: transform, and let's go."