"Jazz, we cannot attempt a rescue without a vaccine," Optimus Prime said with immense control.
"The whole point of this was to remove the virus from Cybertron and destroy it on Earth. It could kill all of us. The plan did not include a capture by the Decepticons."
The saboteur was nearly beside himself.
"Optimus, what on Cybertron is going on! How was the virus activated? How-"
"Jazz, settle down," Prime said in a low voice, even though he too felt like kicking and screaming.
"Ratchet is testing a variety of vaccines. We just have to stay calm."
Jazz roundly cursed Shockwave, Megatron, his minions, and Prowl himself.
He'd had enough.
"Slag it!" Jazz suddenly yelped out loud and leapt to his feet before Prime could stop him.
Optimus Prime laid his face in his hands, close to total despair.
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"Ratchet man, how's it going?" Jazz demanded as he burst into the medbay.
"We've got a promising test vaccine, but it's so hard! Testing on an infected inanimate droid just isn't good enough!" Ratchet cursed, even more colourfully than Jazz.
"But what choice do we have?" Skyfire asked softly.
Jazz glanced around and spotted the test droid within its containment field.
"Ratchet, what about testing on a living Autobot?"
"Perfect Jazz," the medic snapped in frustration, "We're trying to save Autobot lives, not endanger them!"
Jazz braced himself.
"Ratchet man, I'm volunteering myself,"
Wheeljack dropped the instrument in his hand with a clatter, and Ratchet and Skyfire stared at him, open-mouthed.
"No. Not even if hell freezes over!" Ratchet exclaimed, "Jazz, have your common sense algorithms taken an absence of leave? Primus!"
Optimus Prime chose that exact moment to walk into the medbay.
"What's going on?" he asked in concern.
The medic explained.
"Ratchet, you need to test this thing!" Jazz snapped.
"How can you administer a vaccine if you're not sure it works!"
"I hate to agree Ratch, but he's got a point," Wheeljack said quietly.
"Prime, please," Jazz openly begged the commander, "It wouldn't be active right now if I hadn't stopped Prowl in the desert that day!"
"Jazz, you'll be laying your life on the line," Optimus Prime said quietly.
"And what the slag's Prowl done?" Jazz snapped.
He shouldered past the big Autobot and fronted the medic.
"Ratchet, do it now, or I'll do it myself,"
Ratchet glanced at Prime.
The Autobot commander tilted his chin down, once.
He felt the weight of making life or death decisions was going to crush him one day.
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Prowl glanced up from the defunct monitors as Dragstrip stumbled into the cavern.
"Megatron! The prisoner..."
The gold Stunticon trailed off as he spotted the Autobot, and his furious commander.
"I will deal with you later," Megatron raged at Dragstrip.
"Thanks to you, he has released a fatal disease!"
Dragstrip froze.
"Oh no! Primus! He touched me! I'm going to die!"
"Dragstrip. You are not infected," Prowl informed the panicked Stunticon flatly, "I had not yet activated the virus when I came into contact with you."
Dragstrip fled, and Megatron suddenly launched himself across the room to the servocontrol Soundwave had attempted to access.
He managed to enclose the Autobot in a maximum magnitude forcefield.
Megatron turned to Prowl with a malevolent smile.
"No virus can escape a forcefield of this strength,"
Prowl regarded him calmly.
"I didn't say it could. The virus can be held within a containment area. We don't know how to destroy it permanently,"
Megatron stalked to him.
"I will destroy it, Autobot, by destroying you, along with this base."
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"Jazz, are you sure about this?"
"Ratchet man, if you ask me that one more time, I'll magnetize you to the ceiling and do it myself!"
Jazz snapped, "Get on with it!"
"This goes against everything I stand for as a medic," Ratchet declared, preparing the potential vaccine with a slight tremble in his hands.
"I've taken a vow to heal, not cause illness,"
Jazz nearly choked on his frustration, but managed to keep quiet.
He realized this was hard on everybody.
Particularly the medic, who tended to take the Autobots' injuries and illnesses personally.
And Optimus Prime, with the weight of the Universe on his shoulders at the moment.
Ratchet turned to the saboteur.
"I'm giving you a double dose of this vaccine. Once it works through your entire system, then, and only then, I'll...I'll..."
He couldn't even say it.
Jazz nodded, thinking -something felt wrong.
"Wait a tick man! You can't infect me, you'll get it too!"
Jazz stared at the medic, who looked back steadily.
"Jazz, if we get Prowl out, I'll be in direct contact with him. So I'm-"
"You're not," Jazz declared, jumping off the medbunk, "We can't risk you right off the bat! Ratchet man, that's why I volunteered. See if it works on me first! Then inoculate yourself, before we go and bust Prowl out of there!"
He snatched up the containment cylinder.
"Just tell me how to activate it man,"
Ratchet geared himself to argue, but realized time was running out.
He gave Jazz the vaccine, explained how to initiate the microcircuit, and led him to a medbunk that stood apart from the rest in an alcove.
"Jazz, I'll have to isolate you," he said painfully, "I'll put a forcefield around this bunk...but if the vaccine isn't effective..."
Jazz knew what he couldn't say.
If the vaccine doesn't work, you're toast.
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"Optimus, it looks like the Decepticons are evacuating the place," Silverbolt said anxiously, "They're removing pieces of equipment, weapons, you name it,"
"And we weren't harassed," Fireflight added.
Optimus Prime had sent Fireflight and Silverbolt on aerial reconnaissance of the Decepticon base.
The two jets, knowing now that Prowl had not deliberately put them in harm's way in the Bahamas (especially after Prime had quickly explained that Powerglide had been sent to New York that day specifically to guide them in, even though the red mech hadn't known either) came close to breaking the sound barrier getting there and back.
"That doesn't sound good," Ironhide said darkly, and glancing around the crowded control room, saw that everyone was in agreement.
Optimus Prime turned to the Ark supercomputer.
"Teletran, link to the Decepticon base's main communications device. I have to speak to Megatron,"
Even though the room was overfilled, complete silence reigned.
Each and every Autobot felt the danger closing in.
More than one mech present startled when Teletran suddenly crackled to life.
"What do you want Prime?" Megatron snapped, clearly distracted.
"Megatron! Where is Prowl?"
The Decepticon sneered.
"The fool. He is dying as we speak, riddled with the deadly disease!"
"Megatron, listen to me," Optimus Prime said desperately, "Please. Let me send a team to bring him back to the Ark. My scientists are working on an antiviral agent. If they're successful, we will be able to control the virus and destroy it without endangering anyone else. We just need time."
"Time is a luxury you don't have Prime," the Decepticon declared, "I will blow this base sky-high, with or without your second in command inside. I will not risk further exposure!"
"You cannot dispose of the virus that way Megatron! It will spread further-"
"Do not take me for a fool Optimus! Once the infected one is dead, the virus will die too!"
"No," Prime said, almost pleading, "I have the diagnostics here, I'll transmit them to you as proof Megatron!"
The Decepticon waved his hand dismissively.
"Spare me your fairy tales Prime. Once we have removed necessary components, this base will be destroyed!"
"No!"
"One more thing Optimus Prime," Megatron said darkly, "Any rescue attempt on your part will result in the severest retaliation."
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Jazz paced within the isolated, confined space like a caged tiger.
He'd initiated the virus some time ago, and unless it killed silently and painlessly, (which they knew it didn't) had not experienced a single symptom.
"Ratchet man! How long do I have to wait?"
"You still don't feel anything?"
"Yeah, I feel like kicking Decepticon cans!"
Ratchet couldn't help chuckling, and by Primus it felt good.
He, Wheeljack, and Skyfire had been monitoring the saboteur in every way possible, and it was true: nothing untoward had shown up.
"So we can use the vaccine?"
Skyfire asked, more than a little hopefully.
"I think so Skyfire...and Primus help us if I'm wrong," Ratchet said.
He looked at his fellow scientists.
"Prowl," he said softly, glancing toward Jazz's medbunk.
"He's going to be in a bad way, isn't he," Wheeljack didn't ask.
"Yes," the medic confirmed, "And this is only solution I can think of to prevent the vaccine being destroyed by his infected system. A complete Energon transfusion. We have to remove every drop, get the vaccine into him, then get the transfusion into him as quickly as we can,"
Ratchet looked at his fellow scientists.
"It's very risky," he whispered, "Removing all his Energon could kill him alone, especially in a weakened state,"
"Ratchet? What's going on man?" Jazz spoke up suspiciously, and thethree of them parted.
"Jazz, we're trying to work out how to treat Prowl," Ratchet explained gently, approaching his quarantined space.
Jazz looked at his feet.
"Do you think they'll be able to get him out of there?" he asked with an un-Jazz-like waver in his tone.
"Yes Jazz," a determined, authoritive voice rumbled in answer, and Optimus Prime strode into the medbay.
"I'm tired of trying to make Megatron see sense. Actions speak louder than words, so it's time for some action on our part,"
This made Jazz feel better, and boosted all their determination.
Prime looked at the big Valkyrie.
"Ratchet, can you spare Skyfire?"
The jet looked at the medic uncertainly.
"Go ahead Skyfire."
The Autobot commander looked around at his focused scientists and gutsy saboteur.
"I'm proud of all of you. Good luck,"
"You too man," Jazz called as Skyfire followed Optimus out.
Ratchet turned back to Wheeljack.
"It has to be Energon that's already partially broken down,"
"Donors," the Lancia summed up correctly.
Ratchet sent out the call for Energon donors, and within astroseconds the medbay hall was clogged with volunteers.
What a turnaround, Ratchet couldn't stop himself thinking briefly but wryly.
Most of those Autobots would have just recently been happy to rip off the tactician's door-panels.
Wheeljack threw open the medbay doors.
Sideswipe and Sunstreaker forced their ways to the front of the crowd and into the medbay, closely followed by Bluestreak and Ironhide.
"Ok, ok! Four of you are plenty," Ratchet declared to the mob, "But thank you all,"
"Ratchet! I'm the first you call if you need anyone else, hear me?" Cliffjumper asserted.
"No problem Cliffjumper."
Bluestreak paused near Jazz's medbunk, full of admiration for the saboteur.
"Jazz, are you ok?" the gunner asked worriedly.
"I'm fine! Bluestreak man, get out there and kick a few Decepticon afts for me, ok?"
"Definitely Jazz," the youngster grinned and joined Ironhide and the two Lamborghinis.
"I'm going to take a few microliters from each of you," Ratchet told them, "But you'll hardly feel it,"
"Better not! I want to be wide awake when we're giving those Deceptiweasels the thrashing of a lifetime!" Sideswipe exclaimed, totally wired.
"Just get it over with!" Sunstreaker whimpered, right arm outstretched and left hand over his optics.
Jazz couldn't keep back a snicker at the yellow warrior's sudden wussiness.
Ratchet collected the donated Energon, and placed it in a device that would keep it at body temperature.
"All right Autobots, let's get out there," Ironhide declared, and turned to Ratchet.
"We're counting on you buddy," he said quietly.
Ratchet managed a thin smile.
"You get him back here, and I'll do everything under the sun to save his logical aft."
The donors left to join the hasty strategy session -Sunstreaker rubbing his inner elbow joint- with many Good Lucks and Be Carefuls from the medic, Jazz and Wheeljack.
Jazz thumped the wall, just once, with the heel of his hand, wishing he could be part of the rescue raid.
"Jazz, you're doing plenty," Wheeljack said quietly, studying the microcircuit schematics yet again, and picking up the saboteur's unspoken frustration.
"Ratchet man, how long..." Jazz trailed off with a shudder, as a hot wave began to creep through him.
Medic and engineer glanced at him, dropped what they were doing, and hurried over as the Porsche steadied himself against the foot of the medbunk.
"Jazz, lay down," Ratchet ordered anxiously.
The saboteur dizzily pulled himself onto the medbunk.
"Tell me exactly how it feels," the medic continued, hastily scanning the automatic monitoring he'd set up.
"Uh...hot," Jazz mumbled.
"Can you be more specific?" Wheeljack asked in concern.
"It hurts! All over!"
Jazz panted, clinging to the sides of the medbunk.
"Man, I can't imagine what Prowl's going through," he added shakily.