Prowl methodically scrutinized the cell walls.
His demeanour blanketed his increasing anxiety about the hidden Decepticon weapon that had the Ark in its sights.
The solid barred cell door offered little means of escape.
Prowl would've needed two or three extra sets of Autobot muscle to help shift or damage it, even if he weren't injured and below full strength.
The tactician caught the sound of footsteps in the cell block corridor.
These weren't the arrogant, overconfident steps of Megatron, or the saunter of a high-ranking Decepticon, but Prowl was taking no chances.
He sat himself back on the bench, trying to ignore the pain signals from several different body locations.
Prowl folded his arms as Dragstrip entered the block and paused in front of the Autobot's cell.
The gold F1 did a double take.
Obviously Dragstrip hadn't before had the pleasure of witnessing or viewing Astrotrain's "skills."
"Megatron to Dragstrip! Come in, you flitter-brained simpleton,"
The F1 startled, then lunged for the computer console behind him, managing to answer his leader.
"Yes Megatron!"
"Observe the prisoner. Be sure he makes no escape attempt. I want him functional, to behold the total destruction of the Autobots at his hands,"
"But -but Megatron, you said he had some virus," Dragstrip said anxiously, trying to keep his voice down, glancing over his shoulder at the tactician.
"Do not question me, or I will put you in the cell with the Autobot!"
The Decepticon commander raged and abruptly ended communications.
Dragstrip shuddered and slowly turned around.
The black and white Autobot regarded him calmly.
"I carry the virus Dragstrip. I don't have it," he said quietly.
"I don't speak to enemy prisoners," the Stunticon said sharply, trying to mask his uneasiness.
Prowl shrugged indifferently.
"That's fine. I don't feel like talking anyway," he said palely, shifting painfully, and the Decepticon got a full view of his midsection.
Dragstrip paused uncomfortably, watching the Autobot.
Prowl slid slowly onto his side from his back-to-the-wall position, optics offlining.
"Hey," Dragstrip snapped, then, "Hey! Autobot! Wake up!"
The Stunticon's faint panic mounted as he fidgeted, trying to decide whether to disturb the volatile Megatron, or handle things himself.
"Rust! Why me!" the gold mech babbled, as he fiddled with and eventually managed to open the cell door.
He approached the Autobot with all the hesitation of an arachnophobic who's not sure if the spider's actually dead.
"Slag," Dragstrip hissed.
The Autobot's midsection had started trickling Energon again, and he looked a pitiful sight.
Dragstrip paused nervously, unsure of what to do.
Megatron wanted the Autobot functional, and here he was, unconscious.
He leaned down to check the prisoner's optics.
At that split astrosecond, Prowl surged up, caught the startled Stunticon in a textbook-perfect hold, and managed to disarm and stun him with his own rifle.
The tactician lowered him to the cell floor, and slipped into the cell block corridor, taking Dragstrip's weapon with him.
Prowl loathed playing roboto-possum, but conceded sometimes one had no choice.
He slipped silently through the Decepticon base, but met no one.
The sound level increased as he made his way through a section of tunnel that gradually grew lighter, and knew he was nearing the main control sector.
Prowl approached the cavern with extreme caution, and paused, concealed by a recent rockfall.
The Autobot looked around carefully, calculating the series of moves he was going to make.
He spotted the bank of monitors that stood out from the rest.
These were brand-new Cybertronian technology, courtesy of Shockwave, probably.
And Prowl knew beyond doubt that they were the key to destroying the Decepticon weapon.
He lay down the Stunticon rifle, and leaning on the cave tunnel wall for support, eased his chest casing open.
It was made a little difficult because of the damage, but he managed, and removed the implanted microcircuit.
Prowl broke the triaxium shielding, and paused briefly to brace himself.
"It's been great serving with you Prime," he whispered with great control.
"You too Jazz," he added, and activated the virus.
He felt a hot prickle go through his main nerve and motor relays, and knew with certainty that he was infected.
He stuffed the microcircuit in a secure subspace pocket, and left the 'borrowed' rifle where it was.
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Elita-One and Chromia turned to each other with identical looks of fear in their optics as their laboratory warning system went berserk.
Firestar screeched into the communications centre and transformed.
"Elita! The virus! All our "copies" have re-initiated!"
"No..."
The female commander whispered, stricken.
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"Bumblebee to Optimus Prime!"
The rescue team had just cleared the Ark and were preparing to hit maximum speed.
"Prime here," the commander answered, without decreasing speed.
"Prime, there's a priority transmission from Cybertron," the Minibot said, and every Autobot heard the desperate and fearful tone in his vocalizer.
"Autobots, all stop," Optimus Prime ordered.
He slowed, allowing all his troops to pass him, to avoid collecting anybody before he came to a standstill.
The Autobots braked, all violently, several skidding wildly.
"Put it through to me Bumblebee," Prime said as the Autobots gathered round him apprehensively.
"Optimus, this is Elita-One. It has been unleashed. The virus is active."
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Prowl glanced around at the Decepticon muscle occupying the cavern.
He knew that he would never have been able to hold them all off long enough to get at the weapon's console.
Both sets of Seekers, the remaining Stunticons, Soundwave and his minions, the Constructicons, Blitzwing, Astrotrain.
And Megatron.
The Constructicons, Starscream and Megatron were gathered around the console, arguing.
The rest of the Decepticons were involved in communications, monitoring, or what looked like to Prowl just the pretext of being on guard.
Prowl straightened up, slipped out from his hideaway, and stepped deliberately just inside the cavern.
"Move away from that console," he said coolly.
He did not speak loudly, but the determination in his tone resonated, cutting through the animated chatter and arguing.
For a brief moment every Decepticon present just stared at him, then almost as one, Skywarp, Thrust and Blitzwing pointed weapons.
Soundwave despatched Ravage, Rumble and Laserbeak.
Prowl noticed Megatron make no attempt to move toward him, and made optic contact for just a split astrotick.
And Prowl saw fear in the ruby optics.
"Wait!" Starscream shrieked, almost throwing himself at Skywarp and Blitzwing.
He closely eyed the Autobot.
"What the slag are you-" Thrust started to explode, but the Seeker cut in.
"He has infected himself!"
Starscream shrilled, transformed, and bolted.
The rest of the Decepticons looked on warily, no longer sure of themselves.
After all, Starscream had been a student of science before becoming a warrior, and knew what he was talking about...didn't he?
"He's correct," the Autobot spoke up coolly, "I am infected. And your weapons fire will spread the virus to all of you, whether or not I live."
He took a step into the room.
Megatron silently held up his hand, warning his troops to stay back.
"Do not approach me," Prowl said calmly, "If you make contact with my electrofield you will become infected. As of yet, there is no way to eradicate this virus."
"Wh- why did you do it?" Skywarp breathed, "You've as good as killed yourself,"
Prowl looked directly at Megatron.
"The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the one," the Autobot second in command said evenly.
He caught sight of Soundwave, his Casseticons having quickly retreated back into his chest, inching toward a standard servocontrol.
"Soundwave, trapping me in a forcefield will offer you no protection," Prowl said quietly, making his way toward the big mech.
Prowl of course had no intention of infecting anybody, and was taking great care with distances.
But the Decepticons didn't know that.
"Decepticons, evacuate the room," Megatron said in a controlled white-hot rage, moving back as Prowl slowly crossed the floor to the weapons console.
The tactician ignored the Decepticon commander's burning glare as he looked over the schematics.
The rank-and-file cleared the room, some panickedly, as Prowl proceeded to destroy the workings of the device.
It was pointed directly at the Ark, about three-quarters of a kilometre offshore, positioned on the Pacific seabed.
Right where Prowl had deduced.
That will buy Optimus some time, the tactician said to himself in satisfaction.
The console was irreparable.
He made sure to add a destructive feedback loop, and as he did so, Megatron pulled the control chip from a subspace pocket with a strangled yelp.
He flung the sparking, smoking remote across the room with all the force he could manage, probably wishing it was the black and white Autobot.
The weapon itself was undamaged, but the means to initiate it were obliterated.
Prowl knew it would take a while before another set of controls could be put together, long enough for the Autobots to locate and destroy it.
"You may have saved the Ark from oblivion, but you will not survive," Megatron sneered, "Your friends don't know how close to death they came if not for you, and after your behaviour, I am sure no one cares if their second-in-command lives or dies."
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The females had quickly sent the meagre information they had.
Ratchet, Wheeljack and Skyfire feverishly analysed the data.
The medic, in particular, was stunned by the damage it caused, and how quickly it spread through a Transformer's system.
"I have never seen anything like this,"Skyfire said apprehensively.
They'd duplicated a microcircuit from the schematics, appalled at how easy it was to copy.
The three Autobot scientists stared at each other, pale optic'd.
"We're not going to be able to rescue Prowl without a vaccine," Skyfire finally voiced the harsh facts, "Or it will spread to all of us."