Happy Canada Day!
Chapter 196 - Fragility
(PPOV)
Prowl had been dreading this moment, had been putting it off for orns.
"Have the statements from the Decepticon captives all been logged?" the Lady Prime asked him patiently, scanning the datas he'd handed to her.
"All but one, my Lady," Prowl murmured.
"It's been four orn," the femme observed neutrally.
Prowl forced himself to straighten somewhat, looking the mate of the Emperor Prime in the optics.
The optics of the host-bearer of the All-spark, a femme whose existence defied calculation. Prowl winced and looked down again. Not that the Lady Prime looked at him with anything remotely close to real chastisement; the femme had a spark as kind as her mate's. The Lady Prime had optics rather like his Silvermoon's, optics that tended to look directly into his spark, rather than his processors.
"You've been avoiding Barricade," Archangel Prime informed him calmly.
"I have, my Lady," Prowl admitted, fighting to bite down the flinch.
He failed.
"Why?" the femme's voice asked gently. Prowl sagged, and felt Silvermoon gently caress his spark, bolstering him. A gentle hand touched his shoulder plating, and Prowl glanced at the Prime once again, allowing her to guide him to the bench beside her in the central.
"My Lady-"
"Kae."
"Lady-"
"Is false advertising, I haven't been a lady since my seventeenth annum."
"Archangel-"
"Way too regal, and it's a mouthful."
Prowl looked reprovingly at the mate of his friend.
"Now you're starting to look a bit more like yourself," Kae stated patiently, lightly touching his chin with a fingertip. Prowl rolled his optics at the femme.
"Barricade and I were friends, brothers once," Prowl stated bluntly.
"And?" Kae prompted him gently.
"We were enforcers," Prowl stated sternly. "He violated his oath, our oath!"
"Did you never wonder why?" Kae asked him patiently.
"Every orn," Prowl whispered heavily.
"Go ask him," Archangel stated patiently.
"I can't," Prowl choked.
"Why?"
"I'm afraid of what I'll hear, he was even more devout in his duties than I!" Prowl answered before he could stop himself. But the femme simply nodded beside him.
"Do you wish me to attend to the final statement?" she asked gently.
For a second, Prowl almost said yes, the answer was queued in his vocal processors. A rapid syncing of processors and Prowl sagged once more.
"No," he stated quietly, rising. He needed to hear it for himself.
Kae followed him, and he found Silvermoon waiting for them in the bridge room.
"We thought you might want some company," Silvermoon informed him gently, the spark of his mate relaying her most recent conversation history with the Lady Prime and offering her sympathy and support.
Prowl sagged in relief and pulled his mate tightly into his chestplates.
"Thank you," he stated, looking up at the Lady High Protector as his mate's spark gently informed him that she had also been granted the requisite bridge clearance to the Nevada Base by the femme that had rightfully caught the devotion of his Prime.
(MaPOV)
"Miss Kulkarni, I'm so sorry I've kept you waiting," the man stated in an apologetic tone. Mala smiled and rose, shaking his hand. The minions of the Brotherhood had been quick to get her away from Sentinel's lecture hall, but after that they'd slowed down to a crawl, uncertain of their own actions as they called for their orders.
Which meant they functioned solely within the chain of command. Good.
Mala had been in these clothes for a solid twenty-four hours now, sitting in a sterile interrogation room. Had she been running things around here, that most certainly would not have happened. Regardless.
"Please," Mala stated with a smile. "Call me Mala, thank you for seeing me."
"Mala," the man smiled at her. It was a smile that failed to reach his eyes. "My people inform me that you escaped Sentinel Prime himself?"
"Yes, after he proposed to me," Mala stated seriously, idly cataloguing the incongruities between the man's words and his actions.
In the first place, he had absolutely no right to the look of surprise in his eyes, particularly when she was there to prove his very claims correct. Not that Mala had any intention of correcting that in him, it was simply something more to use against him. The surprise quickly changed to a look of sly calculation.
"Please, call me Cain," Cain stated in a suave tone, gently taking her elbow to lead her. Mala smiled and allowed the man to guide her from the interrogation room deeper into the complex the protesters had deposited her in. The place was huge... on the outside, at any rate, for what little she'd been allowed to see. Cain guided her into an office finally, settling her into the chair in front before he sat in his own. "Can I offer you a coffee?" he asked in a genteel tone.
"Tea, if you have it," Mala stated patiently, the man nodded and punched a button on his desk.
"Fetch a cup of tea for the lady," he commanded tersely.
"Sir? Yes Sir," the voice replied in rapid succession. Military training, military discipline.
The man perched proudly behind his massive-yet-still-utilitarian desk sat with the poise of a man accustomed to being obeyed, rather like Sentinel, really. But there was one major difference between the two: Sentinel's optics watched the speaker with interest, prepared to ask questions in clarification. In truth, he sat prepared to find some way to solve the problems brought forth by the speaker.
The man who sat before her looked at her with mild contempt, trying to decide how best to use her. Not that she'd ever let him know she could see his intentions on his face as plainly as if he'd written them down on perishable paper. Only people capable of the same had ever learned of that particular little skill in her repertoire.
"I apologize for how long you've been waiting," Cain stated calmly, obviously for the sake of something to say while they waited for her tea rather than in genuine contrite.
"Not at all, I see you're a busy man," Mala demurred, playing the part of a sweet, innocent, scared woman. By no means would she allow this man to walk upon her, or use her.
But she wasn't going to let him know that.
In five minutes a paper cup of tea was pressed into her hand, Mala gritted her teeth slightly, but bit her tongue. She wasn't here to correct the blasphemer on the proper serving of tea, either.
"Please, tell me everything you can, start from the beginning," Cain prompted her as she settled with the hot universal solvent.
"I came over from London to get a better sense of what's happening in the Americas with the treaties and whatnot with the Cybertronian kind for my employer, which I was happy to do," Mala began patiently. "I listened to your lecture on Wednesday, and Sentinel's on Thursday. When I left Sentinel's hall, the road exploded in front of my car and I got dragged down into a sinkhole; Sentinel pulled my vehicle from the mud personally." Mala paraphrased with a lovely little twist of stunned astonishment in her tone. "I came here for an adventure..." she purposely trailed off and looked at Cain with an artfully helpless little look.
"And you most certainly were granted one," Cain informed her in a passing impression of sympathy.
"Indeed, then if that weren't enough one of them brought me back to their headquarters, where Sentinel promptly demanded I become his bride!" Mala stated in an artfully upset tone. Once again, Cain looked surprised at that, though whether this time for her age or a conflict in behavioural reports she wanted to know. But for now, Mala purposely ignored it.
"A quandary indeed," Cain stated in a musing tone. The sly, calculating look never left his eyes. "I had information that another woman had been taken, we failed to rescue her. The Cybertronians have already taken two human women and turned them into metal demons. That's two too many," he finished firmly. Mala purposely nodded agreement.
"Then I'm to be the bearer of bad news," she stated flatly. "While I was there they referred to me as the fourth femme, not the third."
There was far too much a pause for the man's reaction to ever be considered genuine. He leapt to his feet and began pacing.
"God's fists!" Cain growled, pacing behind his desk. "It is worse than even I had thought, they're moving quickly. Did you happen to see this woman?" he asked with a frown.
"No, it was late, they informed me that she was sleeping," Mala stated worriedly.
Cain suddenly strode around the desk and knelt in front of her. Mala couldn't help but give him a small amount of approval for his seemingly earnest actions.
Even if his eyes stated he didn't give two bits about her supposedly 'horrible' fate.
"Never in my wildest imaginings would I believe myself possible of this," Cain informed her in a lovely impression of worry. "Mala, do you believe you could find that other woman? Perhaps more information on the guests of our government? Perhaps what weapons they possess?"
"Weapons?" Mala asked curiously.
"Yes, weapons, and whatever technology you come across," Cain stated firmly.
"I suppose..." Mala stated in a musing tone. "I suppose if I came back of my own will Sentinel may consider me less of a flight risk..."
"Excellent!" Cain enthused, rising and beginning to pace again. "We mustn't wait any longer, you've been away from them far too long already, you'll have to remain for some few days, gain their trust Mala, I will see to it that my man will put you in a cab far enough away from the hall that you won't be seen."
Mala nodded, and rose as Cain punched the button on his desk, barking out orders for her proper treatment.
"Take care, Miss Kulkarni, godspeed," Cain finally simpered at her, cupping her chin and jaw for a moment before his minions led her back into the world.
This could quite possibly turn out far easier than she had first assumed...
(SePOV)
Sentinel taught his class on autopilot, not really paying attention save for answering the numerous questions. It wasn't as though his class would actually notice, he had had far too much practice at teaching whilst attending to the rest of his duties.
Sentinel taught his class on autopilot, because his femme had not contacted him for five joor. Normally he would have scoffed at the bot worrying after a mere five joor without contact. However, his femme was a human, and his human femme had gone a full day and night without contacting him.
"Good evening, Ladies and Gentlemen," he rumbled finally, looking around at his class as the humans opened their eyes and began the same routine that the strangers held to; opening their eyes, looking at their external timepieces and starting in astonishment at the amount of time passed. Sentinel nodded to Arcee as the femme ushered the final few sparks from the mindspace.
::. You're going to overclock your processors again if you don't stop worrying.:: she informed him patiently. Sentinel threw a half-sparked glare at the regal femme. Arcee simply chuckled and ushered him out of the mindspace, shutting the systems down properly.
Sentinel onlined his optics and flinched, then immediately kicked himself for doing so.
Mala was already sitting on his leg.
"Your sense of touch is not so advanced as my own," she informed him gravely.
In an instant, he had his holoform sitting on his own leg beside her.
"Mala! Where on this planet have you been!?" he demanded worriedly, grasping her hands and cupping her face in turn. Her face held the cast of hesitance, her body language flinching from him still. But the woman's eyes flicked to one of the humans inconspicuously watching them, and Sentinel understood.
"Have you eaten? Taken any rest?" Sentinel rumbled worriedly, drawing his femme from his leg so that he could stand without worrying for her safety.
"No," Mala stated frankly, and Sentinel immediately drew the femme close to his holoform, looking to support her petite, fragile frame with his own. She drew back almost immediately, flinching away from him somewhat.
"Where were you?" Sentinel asked again.
"Here and there," Mala stated with a patiently evasive tone.
"Come, we will see to your fuel," Sentinel commanded with a frown, offering his arm to the woman. Mala rested her hand on his elbow this time, glancing at the human watching them once again.
In silence, Sentinel led his femme outside, transformed and helped the tiny creature to climb into his alt-mode. She sat silently, watching the world with a frosty gaze that seemed somehow... uncharacteristic of his femme. At least, she did until he rolled to a stop in the entrance by, then, and only then did she slide from his alt-mode, look around at the shocked, curious faces and burst out laughing.
"Kae!" She called out in a cheerful tone, immediately striding toward Optimus' femme as Sentinel transformed. Archangel immediately knelt down.
"Did he send you back to spy on us?" Archangel asked with a laugh, offering her hands.
"As though I were the most spectacular of gifts from Durga herself," Mala laughed, immediately sitting in Archangel's palm. "He of course phrased his orders to sound as though he wants me to find and save Symphony, but it's patently obvious that he wants whatever weapons and technology-"
"He what!?" Sentinel demanded.
"Another power play. Figures," Archangel stated in a weary tone, reaching up and rubbing her faceplates with her free hand.
"So it would seem, they're also running the old vertical hierarchy hence the sheer amount of time it took for me to get there and back. Now, where is that darling girl who promised to keep me in her sights?" Mala asked cheerfully.
"Mala! How'd it go!?" Lena's voice asked worriedly. Sentinel looked over at the little femme as she quickly strode to Archangel's side, looking intently at Mala.
"Well, they hustled me right out of there, that was the easy part," Mala began patiently as Archangel turned toward the central. Sentinel was almost on top of her, following the femmes closely. "They had me in a closed van, so I can't be entirely certain where we went, but did you manage to keep hold of my signal?" she asked curiously, squirming in Kae's hand to look at Lena.
"I did, they took you to one of MECH's warehouses, are you certain you're alright?" Lena demanded worriedly.
"Well, I am hungry," Mala stated with an amused look. "Cain did manage to let me sit long enough to-"
"Cain?" Archangel asked in a dangerous tone.
"Yes, Cain, the man who made the speech against the bots on Wednesday, that's what he told me to call him, anyway," Mala stated in a patient voice.
"Tall, clean cut and charismatic?" Lena asked darkly. "Scar on his cheek?"
"Not much of a one, but yes..." Mala stated with a frown.
"Cain is the name of the head of MECH," Lena stated flatly, looking at Archangel. "How many people name their children Cain? We may have just been duped."
"He's the one that made the speech for the Brotherhood," Mala frowned. "Are you sure it's the same?" Archangel brought up a holoform of a human male, the man speaking the short voiceprint sentence which had been captured of him and Mala scowled. "He's the same. His face has been done over but he's the same. We'd best update your photo: implants lifting his cheeks up, the scar has been smoothed out by around sixty-five percent and someone re-broke his nose and straightened it out again."
Sentinel sat down beside Archangel, and quickly accepted Mala as the femme gently handed the woman over. For good reason, the second her hands were free she was up and pacing in agitation, servos folded to torso in the flier's manner.
"If MECH is in charge of the Brotherhood it's a power play, alright," Lena stated darkly.
"And a good one at that, perhaps I will have Sabre attend to Mr. Cain Von Strictland after all," Archangel stated blackly.
"You're going to have to kill his legacy, first," Mala stated firmly.
"Would someone please define?" Sentinel demanded flatly.
All three femmes turned to look at him in astonishment.
"You ran a planet and you need a definition of a power play?" Archangel asked in a disbelieving tone.
"I believe I have already stated that had I had you for a mate Cybertron would have never seen war, and we are not currently engaged in your human sport of 'Ice Hockey.' Now what in Primus name do you mean by a power play?" Sentinel glowered. Mala patted the hand she reclined in, and Sentinel glanced down, smiling at the femme as she calmed him.
"MECH is going after our weaponry, because whomever possesses it will have the most advanced technology on this planet," Lena stated gravely. Sentinel nodded, he already knew that. "The brotherhood, however, is maintaining the stance of wanting all Cybertronians off of the Earth, which means that essentially, MECH is gunning for a war and whipping the people up into a frenzy to achieve it."
"But the brotherhood-" Sentinel began in consternation.
"Is a front, MECH was discredited after the Soaletron took out the forest around their compound, same group, different name." Lena stated with the patient tone he himself had oft used to explain difficult concepts.
"But the Brotherhood is designed to play on the sympathies of the people, they aren't MECH, not in the eyes of the people," Archangel growled irritably. "He who possesses the largest gun rules. If VonStrictland gets our weaponry, and the war he seems to be whipping toward us-"
"Then the balances will be thrown into disarray, the United States revamped their treaties with the bots after Chicago. Which means that as it stands to this second, when the brotherhood declares war on the Auto-bots, they'll be declaring war against the states." Lena stated blackly. "It's a power play without any kind of an ending I particularly want to deal with."
A heavy silence surrounded them, broken only by the soft footsteps of Archangel Prime as she continued to pace in the flier's way. Then, she stopped, turned to look at them for a moment more before venting a sigh in the human's manner.
"There isn't much left for us to do, now, Mala will need something or another to bring back to Cain, along with whatever news we can concoct about Symphony-"
"We can't send her back there with Mala," Lena interjected firmly.
"Agreed," Mala stated flatly. Archangel nodded.
"Mala your roll may have to be dialled back to your best judgement," Archangel stated firmly, looking at the femme in his hand. "The man who managed to build the greatest danger to my family out of another man's military contracting business most likely won't fall under your jurisdiction-"
"If he's already put one organization under his thumb he'll have a better chance of spotting sabotage," Mala nodded firmly.
"But we can still take him down with misinformation," Lena stated, leaning forward intently.
"Or at least slow him down..." Archangel murmured.
Sentinel sat in his place in the Central and watched the three femmes in astonishment as three extraordinarily different helms, both in size and design came together for a single purpose: the destruction of those who threatened the bots they cared for. He looked down at the tiny femme sitting demurely in his hand and felt one piece of knowledge settle firmly into his spark: Life with his human femme was going to be anything but boring.
(JPOV)
Jacobs crossed his arms and grinned up at the two mechs towering beside him.
"I need my paints, they'd never believe this at home," Sunstreaker muttered finally before shaking himself. "We should get back to patrolling, the energon signal is that way."
Jacobs snorted as Sunstreaker lightly caught him by the harness, idly depositing him on his shoulder. Jacobs settled himself comfortably and promptly began gawking around himself, munching on one of the nutrient bars Ratchet somehow always managed to sneak into his rucksack. Jacobs made a mental note to ask the medic for his replicator recipe for this batch, it wasn't half bad this time, filled with cranberries and whatnot.
After he'd finished teasing the medic for being such a mother hen, of course.
"You look like a hatchling," Sideswipe commented with a snort.
"You calling me short?" Jacobs demanded with a mocking scowl.
Sunstreaker laughed, striding down a path between the massive trees.
"I am, what are you gonna do about it?" Sideswipe grinned.
"I'mma kick your aft-plates," Jacobs laughed.
"Last time you did that you spent a solid breem hopping around on one foot and swearing," Sunstreaker commented with a laugh.
"This time I'll wear my steel caps," Jacobs sniffed in a superior tone.
"Never have I met a creature with a heavier dose of little-mech syndrome," Sunstreaker laughed.
"Hey, I may be short, but I can still brace a cannon," Jacobs snorted.
"True, you should try enabling the blades function of the suit, like Banshee did," Sideswipe grinned.
"Not on my shoulder," Sunstreaker immediately broke in
"Oh come on Thunny, you thould re-paint anyway, gold is tho last year," Jacobs grinned, purposely affecting the fashionista lisp and proffering a limp-wristed wave.
"Ugh, you sound like what's-her-face," Sideswipe groaned.
"Redlight," Sunstreaker grunted. "The femme had absolutely no taste in colour!"
"What did she want you in again?"
"Puce."
"No!" Jacobs laughed.
"With emerald highlights."
Jacobs promptly sprawled across Sunstreaker's shoulders, howling with laughter.
"Have you ever had a femme try to decide on your colours?" Sideswipe asked with a grin.
"My sisters, all three of 'em," Jacobs snorted, wriggling himself upright again and snapping a picture of a particularly interesting tree; huge and ancient, it had a colony of butterflies on it. "Although they never tried to dress me in puce. I did let them dress me in pink once though."
"You wore pink!?" Sideswipe demanded incredulously.
"Only real men can wear pink," Jacobs stated loftily. "Besides, black fatigues, pink t-shirt and my beret? I pulled that look off and whupped the runners while pushing one of the kids in a wheelchair."
"Wheelchair?"
"It's pretty self-explanatory, it's a chair on wheels for folks who can't use their legs, or don't have 'em anymore," Jacobs shrugged.
"So you ran with a youngling sitting in a wheelchair?" Sideswipe prompted him.
"He must have been terrified," Sunstreaker grunted with a small smirk.
"The kid had leukaemia, he was training for the statewide track and field before he started his treatments, his mum told me afterwards that she'd never seen him laugh and smile as much as when we were leading the pack." Jacobs stated fondly, remembering the boy as he spared an idle flick at Sunstreaker's helm.
"Sap."
"Nothing wrong with that, it costs nothing to spread around a bit of hope."
Sunstreaker turned his helm somewhat to look at him with a question in his optics, Jacobs returned that glance for a moment before looking straight ahead.
"When you hit the bottom, looking up at the light at the top of the hole you've dug yourself into: it's hope, faith, and a hell of a lot of work that gets you out again. And when you're at the bottom looking up, it's the real, true friends that are at the top throwing a rope down."
Jacobs looked off into the distance for a long moment in silence.
"You know, it was a random stranger that threw me a rope," he stated quietly. "He pulled me out, cleaned me up and put me on the right track. Lieutenant Colonel Thomas Corning."
"How?" Sunstreaker asked quietly.
"Thom dragged my ass out of the waterfront dives and beat the slag out of me. Then, once the two of us were so tired we couldn't hit each other anymore we sat, side by side at the mouth of an alleyway that reeked of piss, vomit, cigarettes and beer, and he asked me one question," Jacobs murmured.
"What?" Sideswipe asked softly.
Jacobs glanced up, looking toward the heavens and Thom's soul, the vision marred by a massive grenade.
"Incoming!" he bellowed.
Sunstreaker dove to the side, and Jacobs rolled as the clearing they'd wound up in exploded.
"Well well well, what have we here?" a massive mech purred with a broad grin. It required no thought, Jacobs had his plasma rifle formed and firing shots before he even had his breath back.
"You scratched my paint!" Sunstreaker bellowed, attacking the next second with Sideswipe right beside him. Jacobs blinked the sweat out of his eyes, a hammer appearing in the mech's claws from his subspace while Jacobs waited for the twins to clear out of his field.
"It's hammer time!" the 'Con bellowed gleefully. Jacobs swore as Sunstreaker went flying, crashing hard into the base of one of the massive trees, Sideswipe close behind.
The aiming eye promptly told him that he was rapidly running out of ammunition.
His energon reserves were being depleted.
Jacobs snarled as the con began charging him, the blades Lena always used sprang into his hands, handles into palms. Jacobs bellowed a war-cry, charging, rolling out of the way of the hammer and continuing on. Jump onto foot, stab exposed energon line extending down leg. Heave up, left hand plant grenade spike in knee.
A bellow of pain was his reward as fluid pressure forced the blade out again. Jacobs immediately whipped around, prepared to roll for cover and saw the flat end of a hammer just as it hit him.
The world was dark, airless, there was no sense of gravity.
He never felt his own collision with the massive, ancient tree.
"You did good kid," Thom's voice informed him gently. "You done me proud Jay, it's time to come home."