Day 18

"Ugh," Ratchet moaned early in the morning at five in the Medical Bay, cube of energon in hand, as he walked on over to his patients. He slept at midnight at the sleep spots in the mall and bought an alarm to make sure he woke up in a couple of hours. He didn't want to spend too long leaving them with just Bludgeon, who volunteer to spend most of the night watching over the two of them. Said volunteer was leaning against a table, a hand on the side of his face propping him up.

"Sleep well?" he asked him, sounding tired.

"Well enough to get me through the day. How are you handling yourself?" he asked him.

"I'm feeling weary, but it's no problem for me. I have spent many nights as a sentry, standing guard over a valuable item," Bludgeon answered his questions.

"The valuable object in question being Nautilator, I assume," Ratchet muttered as he read the vital signs of the patients on the screen hooked up to them.

"…It's rather unfortunate that he is," he answered.

"It's no surprise. It's easy to tell you two have gotten along probably a lot better than you should have," he remarked. "Dead End's vitals looking good."

"He'll be disappointed," he said. "I have been interested a little too much in him."

"It doesn't appear to be just interest in him," Ratchet noticed. "You came running in here when you heard he was in trouble. You care about him."

"Don't say something so foolish," Bludgeon said, insulted.

"Nautilator's vitals are failing," Ratchet said, worried.

"What?! Do something!" he yelled, standing up.

"Oh, wait. His vitals are fine. My fault," he remarked with a smile. At that, Bludgeon glared at him before he walked off.

"I'm heading to my room. Take care of him, Ratchet," Bludgeon ordered as he opened the door.

"Sure thing. I just wanted to make sure you cared about him. Thanks for confirming it." Bludgeon didn't offer a response as he left the room with the door closing behind him.

"Deception. I like that," he heard a voice say and looked down to see Dead End looking at him, interested.

"You were listening?" Ratchet questioned him.

"Yes. I've been up for a few minutes, but I haven't said anything, because Bludgeon doesn't interest me," the cynic told him. "However, the deception was nice to hear."

"I had to get the truth from him, whether he wanted to tell me or not. It'll help him sort out his feelings," the medic told him.

"Is Nautilator actually doing better?" Dead End questioned him.

"Well, he's stabilized for now, pulse rate is okay, even if it's below the recommended amount, and he isn't having any seizures, which is always a plus considering the amount of drugs you and him consume," Ratchet explained to him. "At this point, it all depends on him."

"Then he's doomed," he remarked.

"I believe he will be alright," Ratchet murmured. "He deserves more credit than everyone gives him."

"He can't hear you. You don't have to lie to me," Dead End told him.

"I'm not lying. Frankly, anyone with the gall to actually be friends with Bludgeon deserves at least some respect," he remarked.

"Overblowing things, I see. Bludgeon has been effectively neutered thanks to Jhiaxus' death and looking for anything to feel the void, even if it's someone as pathetic as Nautilator," he told him.

"Maybe, but one has to wonder why Bludgeon chose Nautilator over everyone else here to be friends with," Ratchet pondered.

"More than likely, it's because Nautilator had no friends. Everyone else had someone to connect with. Bludgeon wanted someone all to himself," Dead End gave his theory to him.

"That's certainly a cynical way of looking at it, but it could explain why he was initially drawn to Nautilator instead of someone like Shockwave and Perceptor, who are a bit closer to Jhiaxus' profession," Ratchet agreed reluctantly with his explanation.

"Didn't think you had common sense," Dead End gave praise. "You're not long for this world."

"Ha, how funny," he sarcastically said.

"They like to go for the smart ones. I be careful around everyone," Dead End warned him.

"Right, well, if something's going to happen, it'll probably be today. Almost a day left until the motive is done," Ratchet reminded him.

"Anything happened while I was out?" Dead End asked him.

"Well, Blurr and Knock Out are having a race today at noon, if I decide you're well enough to go," he told him.

"No thank you. I think I rather stay here," he said with disdain. "I'll leave that to the idiots who find enjoyment in watching people go in circles."

"Come on, it'll be fun. Almost everyone's going to be there, including Wildrider," Ratchet told him.

"I don't think Wildrider wants to see me. May've said a few too many hurtful things to him, that wretched moron," Dead End murmured distastefully.

"Ugh, still need to make sure the drugs are out of that head of yours," he groaned.

"Don't worry, you won't have to worry about me for long," he comforted him.

"You think you're going to be murdered," Ratchet questioned, looking over to him.

"In a way, yes," he told him.

"What does that mean?" Ratchet questioned, walking over to him and staring down at him.

"You'll find out latter," Dead End cryptically told him. He glared down at him before walking off.

"I don't know what you're planning, Dead End, but I would advise against it. You're pretty useful during investigations and trials, and I would like you to stay around for them," he told him as he began looking through the anesthesia dispenser. It was a device attached to the wall that dispensed a syringe of anesthesia. There was five currently in there at the moment and he could make more just by getting some out of the cabinet and placing a syringe in it to suck some up before putting it in through the dispenser, putting it through the only hole, making the one dispense the most recent one.

"Someone has to be. All of you always wish for the best in everyone. You need me to give all of you a reality check," he reminded him.

"I'm a realist. You don't have to remind me that were constantly forced by this tyrant running the place to kill each other," Ratchet told him as he examined the tools on the table. Scalpel, retractor, welder…

"Good to see someone is thinking correctly. Just remember, anyone can be a murderer."

"I know."

"And we'll probably be finding Swindle's body soon, wherever that is," he mummed.

"I don't know. If he was dead, the culprit would've left his body somewhere already and we would've probably find it during the search. I think Swindle has another purpose than just dying," Ratchet informed him.

"You're being hopeful again," he muttered, disappointed.

"No, I'm just saying he's using him to help with killing someone, although how, I'm unsure of," Ratchet explained.

"That… is interesting," Dead End muttered as his optics dimmed. "I think I'll sleep some more."

"Good. Can help drive out the drugs in your system," Ratchet said as he looked over his EKG. "The sooner, the better."

"Geez, Onslaught, you look like death," Beachcomber said as he entered the lunchroom. Everyone else had already come and go in preparation for the race at noon, leaving him behind for coming in late for actually good a good night's recharge. Onslaught, indeed, didn't look that good, considering his optics were dim, scratch marks and stains were all over him, and he was walking sluggishly.

"I've looked for Swindle all night, from here to the racetrack," he told him as he got himself a cube of energon and took a seat across from him. "I can't find him, no matter what."

"Dude… you need to rest," the geologist said, worried.

"I know… but I'm worried about Swindle. The only people who's helped me a lot is Blast Off and, when he's not busy with organizing the race, Smokescreen. They've both been around until three to help until they went off, I assume to rest," he told him as he gulped the cube down in seconds. "I need another," he murmured as he quickly retrieved another one and sat back down.

"Dude, go recharge. Seriously," Beachcomber insisted.

"Nah… I just need some energon and I'll continue the search," Onslaught told him as he took a gulp of energon, downing half the cube.

"…Look, you need a break," he told him with a stern tone.

"I told you, I-"

"This isn't a request, you are going to take a break," Beachcomber ordered harshly. That helped wake up Onslaught as he gulped the last of the cube before slamming it on the table.

"I won't rest until I find Swindle," Onslaught responded haggardly. The two glare at each other before Beachcomber responded.

"How about you come to the racetrack at noon, them?" he asked him. "Everyone will be there. Plenty of special energon to drink. Could be a great way to boost yourself," Beachcomber attempted to persuade him. Onslaught glared at him, thinking the answered through his sluggish processors, before giving an answer.

"Fine. At twelve, I'll be at the racetrack. We'll watch it together," Onslaught agreed to his deal, while scratching the back of his head. "I'll see if I can take my mind off Swindle, if only for an hour or so."

"Alright, good dude. I'll remind Blast Off to bring you along," Beachcomber nodded. "Stress yourself out too much and you'll drop dead."

"Right, there we go," Mixmaster murmured as he closed the container on the last of ten boxes, each of them in a variety of colors. "Drinks are ready. They just need to be transferred over to the racetrack."

"That why I'm here?" Skywarp questioned him as he stood nearby.

"Yep. Just transfer them to the announcer's booth at the racetrack and we'll store them there until around an hour before the race starts."

"Right. Better get started," Skywarp murmured as he grabbed the first one and warped off, leaving Laserbeak behind to watch him and his fellow gestaltmate.

"Looks like a good batch of drinks," Scavenger said as he looked through the containers.

"Well, being a chemist is also useful for cooking up some nice drinks," he told him as he began washing out the equipment.

"Yeah… I hope I can remember how you do it," Scavenger said longingly.

"I wouldn't recommend it. Some of these are quite complicated and requires precise measurements, otherwise, it tastes like the aft of a sparkeater. Frag, it may even be poisonous," he told him.

"Oh… yeah, you're right. I'd probably mess that up," Scavenger consented as Skywarp came back and got the next one before warping off.

"Yeah. Trust me, you need some practice. If you want, maybe I can give you a few pointers next time I fix something up," he told him.

"That… would be nice," Scavenger agreed. "Could help me get everyone's mind off murder."

"Hmph, are you still pondering the idea of all of us living here in harmony?" Mixmaster questioned him.

"It doesn't hurt to hope. Eight people have died for nothing but someone else's entertainment. I just want a stop to the pointless bloodshed," he explained morosely. "I just want to feel safe again."

"Scavenger… as long as the one controlling Monobear exists, we can never feel safe. So what if we never kill each other again, you think he's just going to let that happen? Mixmaster questioned as Skywarp came back to repeat the process, warping off within a few seconds, leaving Laserbeak to look at the bickering couple. This was something of interest to it that Soundwave would've love to have to use later.

"It's something. Sometimes the best thing is doing nothing," Scavenger told him.

"Scavenger, people kill for all kinds of inane reasons. You think no one will act with all of these motives. Scavenger, how do you feel about the custom, miniature excavator that Long Haul ad Hook built for you is on the conveyor belt, ready to burn? Huh?" he questioned him aggressively, which was reflected by his increased force at using the cloth to clean the glassware.

"I… feel terrible. I want to save it, but I don't want everyone to die," he told him as he clenched his head in anxiety as Skywarp quickly got another container and went off, trying to ignore them.

"Well then, you see why that peace of yours won't hold up. You may have scruples, but some of them don't. You can't just keep going about, hoping that no one else will do what the mastermind says," Mixmaster said as he walked away from the sink and over to Scavenger, getting in his face. "They will kill you and everyone else here just to get out, so quit hoping for peace and start hoping for a way to find the mastermind so that we can end his life!" he said in a subdued roar. Scavenger was still holding on to his head, looking down now to avoid his face, leaving the two in an awkward silence that were only broken by the sound of Skywarp warping in, observing the weird scene, and warping off with a container. After the third time, Scavenger finally spoke.

"I'm scared," he spoked at barely above a whisper. "Death… death is everywhere and I just want to feel safe. You couldn't let me feel that for just a couple of days before some other poor slagger bites it." His stance had change now. He brought his arms down and was now hugging himself tightly, scared for his life. Mixmaster couldn't help feel sorry for him.

"Scavenger, I'm… I'm sorry. I'm just trying to make sure you know that there is danger lurking aro-"

"You think I don't that!" he yelled, putting a head to his head and poking it. "In case you don't remember, I was assaulted! Every day I'm talking to someone, one of them could've been the person to have done this to me and I won't know it. Do you have any idea what that's like!" After that, he hugged himself again and placed his attention back to the floor. "I can't depend on anyone here. No one can save me if someone wants me dead. I'm too dumb to stay alive. No one will care if I die. I'm too useless for people to care about me. If someone- urk!" Scavenger grunted as Mixmaster grabbed a hold of him and started hugging him.

"Scavenger, please, stop thinking like that. All we have to do is find a way to the mastermind and kill him. Then we'll be safe for a long time. And if someone wants to kill you, well… they'll have to kill me first," he told him, hugging him tightly, shocking him. "You hear me? I won't let anyone else here hurt you as long as I'm here. No one." Scavenger felt happy, but he had no idea why. It wasn't just because of Mixmaster declaration. It's because he felt something he hardly felt.

He felt wanted.

Scavenger hugged him even tighter, glad to have someone caring for him. He had been neglected for most of his life, even among the other Constucticons. Now, he really felt like he belonged with some.

"You two are way too affectionate," they heard Skywarp and Mixmaster turned towards him to see him glaring at them with Laserbeak on his shoulders. "All the drinks are at the racetrack, so I'm heading out. See ya later," he told them as he walked out. Mixmaster looked at where he was before Mixmaster attempted to break out, out to have Scavenger holding on to him. "Uh, Scavenger, you can let go now. Getting a bit awkward here."

"Oh, uh, sorry," Scavenger sheepishly apologized and let go. The two stood around in a uncomfortable silence before Mixmaster spoke up again.

"We should probably head to the racetrack and get ready over there," he recommended.

"Right."

"10 o'clock! All bets final!" Smokescreen yelled as he placed a lid on the container and walked on out of the observational booth. He could see Mixmaster setting up the drinks, Scavenger and Bumblebee setting up sweets they bought from the mall, Skywarp and Laserbeak flying around the area as he was 'sick and tired of not flying!' and decided to fly around the enclosed space, and Hoist was checking the racetrack to make sure that nothing would break apart from the spectator stands to the booths. Overall, today was setting up to be an excellent event. Nothing could go wrong today.

Which is why he's saw several other people expressing their worriment over the whole event. Smokescreen wasn't worried. He was confident everything would go well for once. He just had to make sure everyone felt comfortable, which was a bit of a challenge considering that they've had four murders within two weeks. Always a killjoy. But this was nothing more than a covert war between everyone, so it's like the past years of peace never happened. Or, to use a Earthen term, a cold war between every individual had occurred, everyone one of them waiting for the others to act. Pretty interesting, but also dangerous.

"Hey, Smoke," he heard as he saw Hoist coming on up.

"Oh hey. We can talk while I walk to my room to keep the bets safe," he told him as they walked the side of the racetrack together.

"Hey, Smoke, listen. I have to question whether we should do this while Swindle is still missing." Oh, yes. There was also that going on as well. That was also causing rising tensions. "I mean, it feels wrong to hold an event like this while he's possibly in trouble, maybe even dead."

"Now don't said that. If we haven't found him yet, he's probably isn't dead," he told him as he dodged a crate between the two of them as they crossed the white line on the racetrack.

"Maybe, but we still have no idea where he is," Hoist reminded him.

"Dude, I know. I was up late last night trying to find him. Onslaught and Blast Off can attest to that. Pretty tiring," he muttered as he looked at the two opposing stands. "Hey, how about we have the two opposing stands each represent a side."

"That's something I also had to talk to you about. You see, the ones by the starting are extremely rusted. I'm afraid to place so many people on there," Hoist told him.

"What about the other one?" he asked him.

"Slightly rusted, but it isn't dangerous."

"Alright, then we'll use that one. Cordon the other one to make sure no one gets on it. I don't want a disaster today," Smokescreen told him.

"Both of us. I'll make sure no one will be going up there. Keep everyone's money safe in your room," he told him.

"Oh, trust me. I will."

"Right, checkup done. Both of you are primed and ready for racing," Ratchet told Knock Out and Blurr as they were sitting at the table together.

"Great. Primed and ready to win this whole thing," Blurr bragged as he got up the table.

"That confidence of yours will be broken soon," Knock Out remarked as he got up with him.

"Really? You've come short every time we've had a practice run. That ego of yours is preventing you from seeing the obvious outcome," Blurr laughed at his claimed.

"Practice rounds don't matter. Only the actual race does, where you may have a few unfortunate things happen to you," he reminded him.

"Hey," Ratchet interrupted. "Just a reminder, I want a good, clean race. I've been called in for some nasty disasters at racetracks and they can be pretty ugly."

"Relax, there may be a few bumps or two, but most of the race will be spent him behind me," Blurr calmed him as he give Knock Out a playful tap on his side with his elbow.

"I believe I'll give you a better fight than you think," Knock Out responded as the two walked on out. "I want you to see me win, Ratchet!"

"I'll be there," Ratchet responded.

"Are you telling the truth?" he heard Dead End asked and looked over to him glaring at him.

"Of course. I am interested in who's going to win, plus I got fifty on Blurr winning, although I haven't told Knock Out that," he explained.

"Hmph, a smart bet," he agreed as he laid on the berth. Ratchet could hear him moan slightly as he was laying there.

"Are you alright?" he asked him, walking over to him and checking him over.

"It's the back of my head. Could you check it?" he asked him.

"Sure. I didn't do so on initial inspection so it might be a good idea," he told him as he grabbed a hold of his head and pulled it up to reveal a large dent on the back of the head. "Oh, now where did you get that?" Ratchet questioned him.

"Get what?" Dead End questioned.

"You have a large dent at the back of your head. Looks pretty bad, like it was caused by a blunt object of a sort," he told him.

"Strange… I don't remember getting that," Dead End told him.

"Uh… let me go check on Nautilator as well," he said as he gently placed Dead End's head back on the table and went over to Nautilator. He lifted it up and found a large dent at the back of his head as well. "There's one here as well."

"Huh… we were probably attacked last night while under the effect of the drugs," Dead End figured out.

"But… why?" Ratchet questioned as he placed Nautilator's head back on the table.

"I don't know. I hardly remember anything that happened that night," he told him, confused.

"Well, someone bashed yours and Nautilator's head. You obviously saw something in your drunken state, but what exactly?" Ratchet questioned to himself as he looked at a digital clock on the wall. "Dammit, race's about to start."

"Go. You wanted to do this," Dead End reminded him.

"True, but I want to-"

"It won't last that long and everyone will be there. I'll be in no danger," Dead End told him.

"Yeah, I guess," Ratchet nodded as he thought it over before walking to the exit. "Alright, I'm heading out. Don't die on me while I'm gone."

"Unlikely, unfortunately," Dead End muttered as Ratchet walked off.

"Glad to see you could make it," Beachcomber told Onslaught as him and Blast Off arrived together.

"You're lucky. I had to basically drag him over here," Blast Off told him as the two took a seat next to him at the front, overlooking the white line.

"I just want to make sure Swindle's fine," Onslaught told him slugglishly as he was bent over looking extremely tired.

"Well, here, got some drinks for you," as he gave each of them a cup.

"And this is?" Blast Off questioned as he examined his red liquid while Onslaught's was a red liquid.

"An energy drink for Onslaught and a nice tea for you, Blast Off," he told him.

"Hmph, how nice," Blast Off murmured as he took a drink. "Eh, it isn't too horrible. Guess I'll drink it."

"Right," Beachcomber said nodded as he drank a green liquid while Blurr and Knock Out were waiting at the starting line, ready to go and probably exchange final trash talks.

"Alright, Smokescreen here!" they heard Smokescreen shout through the megaphones around the area. "Everybody ready to get this race started?" A roar from the small crowd gave a yes. "Alright, this race starts on go. Now 3, 2- woah!" he shouted as they heard something crashing over the intercom. Everyone looked around, confused by the sound, when they heard someone else spoke up in a more annoying tone.

"Alright, I'm ready to get this race started!" they heard the high-pitched tone of Monobear resonate throughout the area, making everyone groan in annoyance.

"What are you doing here!" They heard Smokescreen shouted at him.

"What? Every announcer needs a co-announcer," he explained to him.

"But everyone hates you!" he shouted at the bear.

"Hey, either you're doing this with me or I'm doing this alone. Which would you prefer?" it told him. At that, they heard Smokescreen growled loudly in frustration before he spoke again.

"Right. Sorry everyone for the interruption, but we're back with me, Smoke-"

"Smokey the Bear and Monobear the Magnificant!" Monobear shouted. "We're the beary best of friends!"

"Oh Primus," they heard him groaned. "Alright, at go. Please be quiet for this one," he ordered as he prepared to countdown.

"Sure, thing, Smokey. We're equals here. Start the countdown!" he yelled as he finally went quiet.

"Okay. We're fine, everyone. We can endure this annoyance," he told them. "Okay, for real this time. 3, 2, 1 GO!" he yelled as Knock Out and Blurr drove off.

"Fifth lap. Both racers are pretty even!" Monobear told the crowd.

"A lot closer than I thought, but they have a lot more to go. Anything to could happen," Smokescreen added.

"Geez, they're both going really fast," Bumblebee muttered as he watched them drive around as he sat next to Ratchet and Skywarp. They were both pretty relaxed as they enjoyed them driving around.

"Quite impressive, although expected. Knock Out is as fast as he looks and Blurr is a champion racer. If they weren't fast, it would be quite a disappointment," Ratchet told him.

"True, this is to be expected," he agreed as he looked over to him. "So, how are things between you and Drift?"

"Hasn't talk to me since I've joined up with Skywarp here," he told him as Skywarp shrugged.

"Serves him right. Guys is a bigot against every Decepticon here," he told them as he took a drink of a blue liquid.

"You guys should really talk to each other again. You guys are friends," Bumblebee told him.

"I will when he stops acting so petulant," he told him. "Seriously, he started this whole thing when I floated the idea that not all Decepticons completely immoral."

"Fragger," Skywarp muttered.

"Really? Because I see him hanging out with Bludgeon all the time, which might fit the stereotype more than anyone else here," he told them.

"Probably because of similarities in specialties more than anything else. They are both highly skilled in bladed weapons and martial arts," Ratchet told him. "As much as he wouldn't want to admit it, Bludgeon is the one most like him."

"No surprise," Skywarp told them.

"Well, seriously, you should talk to him after the race," Bumblebee told him.

"I'll consider it."

"15th lap and Knock Out is trailing behind at a small amount. He can catch up if does pretty well," Smokescreen announced.

"Or ram right into him and send him into the crowd!" Monobear shouted.

"Let's try and avoid collateral damage," he muttered.

"As annoying as Monobear is, him and Smokescreen do play off each other pretty well," Rewind told Hound with a smile as they watched the race together.

"It is quite entertaining," Hound agreed with a smaller smile on his face.

"Yeah," Rewind sigh, not looking as happy before, something which Hound took noticed of.

"Hey, cheer up. Nothing's wrong for now," he told him while placing an arm around him.

"I know. It's just that… I still miss him and I'm actually enjoying something for once," he told him. Hound sighed at that. Fraggin' conjunx enduras.

"Hey, you gotta move on. Trust me, you can't just live on with Chromedome on your thoughts. Just relax and enjoy the race," he told him. Rewind glanced up at him before giving another sigh.

"Yeah, I know. It's just… well, you know," he replied meekly.

"I know and I assure you, when we get out, I'll find people to help you. There are groups out there for people like you, who can help you get through what they've gone through. Everything will be fine in the end," Hound told him, bringing him closer to him. "We'll all be fine."

"Lap 33. Knock Out is right on Blurr's tail," Smokescreen announced to the crowd.

"Ooh, this is so exciting!" Monobear shouted as one could tell just from his voice he was bouncing in his seat. "I feel like I'm on circuit boosters!"

"They are going so fast," Scavenger muttered as he watched them go around. "Wish I could go that fast."

"People are built differently. I've never seen anybody else excavate as fast as you do," Mixmaster told him with a smile.

"True, even if that's a much less popular thing to be capable," he said with a sigh.

"Scavenger, please don't act like that. Seriously, I've already dealt with it once today and-"

"You're right, you're right, I'm sorry," Scavenger sighed. "I overthink too much about my status in life. I should really stop doing that."

"Well, that's sure is the truth," Mixmaster sighed as he relaxed in his seat. "Just enjoy the show. Nothing's happening."

"Yeah, I'll do that. I need to relax."

"Lap 48! Almost halfway through and Blurr has led the whole way, but Knock Out is nearly neck and neck to him!" Smokescreen shouted.

"Ram into him, Blurr, and we could remove necks from the equation entirely!" Monobear shouted excitedly.

"Okay, there is something seriously wrong with you," Smokescreen told him.

"Knock Out is fiving a better fight than I thought," Jazz said with some admiration. "Still going to lose, but he's not bad."

"His speed is admirable," Perceptor agreed.

"Right," Wildrider murmured as he looked around. "Hey, you think anybody would be around the Med-Bay? I want to talk to Dead End privately."

"Honestly," Perceptor said as he looked around, "I think you'll be fine. Head on out and talk to him if you want."

"Right, I think I'll go do that. Be back in a little while," he told them as he walked off.

"Do you trust him to go off alone," Jazz asked Perceptor when Wildrider was out of listening range.

"I think with Dead End, yes. He does care about him and he wouldn't want to jeopardize his life, I believe," he told him.

"Alright, if you say so. However, if anything happens to Dead End while he's gone, he's first on the suspect list."

"Hey, Deady! I'm here!" Wildrider yelled as he entered the room, but paused when he noticed only Bludgeon there with Nautilator sleeping soundly.

"He's not here. He's not with you at the racetrack?" Bludgeon asked him.

"No. What made you thing that?" he questioned him.

"I woke up at the mall and saw Dead End walking back towards here. I figured he was going to watch the race today," Bludgeon told him.

"Huh? But he wasn't there," Wildrider said as he scratched the back of his head. "Where is he?"

"Huh, strange. I don't see any reason for him to head to the repair bay or the casino, so he has to be around here somewhere, I'm guessing," Bludgeon muttered as he looked around the large place. "Five floors around the area, but I imagine he's still on this floor somewhere. Might try some of the operation rooms or the supply closets."

"I don't know why, but I might as well look in there," Wildrider muttered as he began his search, looking through the closest operation room and found nothing. He looked at the next one. Nothing. He growled in frustration as Bludgeon observed him going through the rooms. He looked down at Nautilator. He wasn't doing much better. He'll pull through, but it'll take quite a while.

"What the frag! Dead End!" he heard him yelled, sounding scared. He looked to see a door open. He ran on over and saw looked inside to see inside the operation room that shocked him. Wildrider crouched over Dead End laying on the ground, energon all around him. Behind them was an energon-stained knife and Dead End's severed left arm. He saw Wildrider checking his pulse and looked back up at him. "He's still alive. Get help!"

"Lap fifty and the two are getting aggressive!" Smokescreen announced.

"This isn't going to end nicely!" Monobear shouted.

"For once, I agree with you," Smokescreen muttered gravely.

Blast Off could see them driving neck and neck and they were indeed getting aggressive. He wouldn't be surprised to see one of them knock the other out of the race in vehicular combat. Knock Out was the main aggressor, taking a few small jabs at Blurr, hoping to knock him slightly off course. Blurr was holding on very well to the lead, if only slightly, but one could guess he were getting annoyed with his follower. That came to fruition as they were nearing the white long that Blurr rammed into Knock Out as hard as he could. Knock Out was caught off guard by the sudden hit and got way off and started flipping. He transformed mid flip and hit the ground roughly, near the white line, as Blurr kept going.

"Oh, boy! That was an excellent hit! Good one, Blurr! This must be really familiar to you!" Monobear shouted and Blurr stopped suddenly. He transformed back into his bipedal form and looked back at Knock Out. He had a few scraps and dents, but overall, he was alright.

"Hey, Knock Out! Start driving again! I don't want to win like this," he told him.

"Oh, you are a moron," Monobear muttered, annoyed.

"I agree. Blurr, my money is on the line here," Smokescreen said, equally annoyed.

"Hey, shut it! I hear something weird!" Knock Out yelled as he looked around. Blast Off looked at scene confused before paying attention. He did hear something weird as well. What was that? It sounded like a banging noise and it was coming from across the tracks. The only thing he could see there was the large crate.

*Crack!*

Said crate had its top broke open and Swindle emerged from it, leaning over the side, not looking very good.

"What the fuck!" They heard Smokescreen shouting over the speakers as was the general thought of everyone as they were all stunned at his sudden. All except for a couple.

"Swindle!" Onslaught shouted as he got up before collapsing forwardonto the railing. Blast Off knew that lack of recharge was finally getting to him and he need to go get some sleep soon rather than continuing physically exerting.

"Onslaught, sit down. I'll get him," Blast Off said as he pulled him off the railing and jumped off. He walked over to him, walking over the white line, as Swindle looked on up, fear in his optics.

"No, don't! Bo-"

*Boom!*

Before he could finish his sentence, an explosion happened right where Blast Off was, engulfing him, sending Knock Out flying and shrapnel all around the area. When the dust had settled, people were screaming all around the area from fear, confusion, and injuries, none more than Blast Off, both of his legs blown off as he crawled away from the blast zone.