Authors Note: This chapter took me so long because Starscream and Megatron had to have words with each other and Jazz's scenes are difficult to capture in general. Having a sick 2 year old and then 1 year old did not help either. XP Tennoda's review from the last chapter reminded me that I also should have stated that the character Oscillate the Living Forge is one of my original creations to help flush out our favorite Cybertronian's backgrounds. ;) On that similar note, the Autobot/Cybertronian word 'alto' means stop, halt, desist.

Also, a big thank you to Wolf Girl811! The Robosmasher machine from G1 was the initial prototype for the virus the Decepticons created that was mentioned in the last chapter! Thank you for drop naming it in your review, I could not for the life of me remember what it was called or find it on line!

**Thank you to DarkFlameBear98, Dina Sana, Laurenthalas, Sleepless Kueen, Aknamkanon, xXSweet Little BumblebeeXx for favoriting and following Resonance!**

Guest: I am glad to hear that people enjoy my writing and miss it. So thank you!

Wolf Girl811: I realize that Resonance has been pretty dark and depressing, and there's still so much more of it to go before the end. Unfortunately it is hard to capture more lighthearted moments, especially in the fast paced action that's going on. There might be a chapter coming up soon though where I might be able to have a few lighter memories, though the way it is planned in my head is bittersweet. And yes, writing out the scenes where Megatron is getting harassed by his fellow Decepticons is rather enjoyable for me! XD As for Shrapnel, she snuck her way into the story. She wasn't supposed to be in it at all, and what happened was I had separate pieces of the chapter written and needed to bridge them together. As I set out to do that, Shrapnel made her appearance and events started shifting and changing. It was actually the main reason why chapter 9 and 10 got split was to give me time to make accommodations in my writing for this new player. For awhile now I kept seeing Shrapnel as a femme and decided why not bring it up now. Again, thank you so much for the name drop of the Robosmasher!

SunnySides: Thank you for the compliment about Jazz! I was cracking up writing it out. And yeeeeah, they really do need to stop doing that. The reason I was writing that way is because it is slipping up between them. An unconscious effect. They do it when they become heated with each other and resume the mental chatter when they are more conscious about their surroundings. As for the Decepticon slapstick, if I told you how I was doing it I would have to send Rumble and Frenzy after you! XD But seriously, I have a 2 and 1 year old and am currently a stay at home mom. So at the end of a long day, it helps to unwind with a glass of wine and humor. That's where a lot of the Decepticon banter is coming from. Letting out the day's frustrations with a glass of wine and passive aggressive writing. ;D

Tennoda: Five points to Gryffindor for humor! Love to hear when I get a laugh out of people. And thank you so much for the wonderful comment! I was beaming reading that my writing was so convincing you had to check TFWiki to see if Oscillate was a canon character. Success! X) It took me awhile to come up with a name for Ratchet's predecessor. I knew I wanted him to have an outlier ability to control and manipulate sentio metallico, so his name is an anagram of it! It was actually suppose to be Oscillate Loom, but I dropped the second half.

Lereniel: I'm sorry about the confusion over Phage's background. I haven't written fanfics for years, and when I decided to jump back in I leapt right into the middle of Phage's story with Resonance. When I get the time I'll set up a rough time line on my profile page, but yes. Phage does have several abilities, phasing and foresight, though I was trying to downplay the latter. With my older works, her foresight was touched on in Golden Hour and the phasing was going to get revealed in its sequel, 'Games of Red, Green, and Yellow.' I originally had some chapters of 'Insecticons over Washington,' that included Phage when she was Alicean and the troubles she got into with the bug Decepticons, but I deleted that fanfic years ago from fanfiction because I didn't like the direction it was going. Part of me is glad I did because the story arc does not fit with what's going on now and it would have required a massive overall. More about Phage's powers will get revealed in upcoming chapters as well as a bit more about what happened that changed her into a Cybertronian. I am contemplating of writing a prequel to Resonance, I just haven't decided if I'll try to do that while I'm still working on Resonance or after.

Chapter 10

An inner rose-hued glow disrupted the heavy shadows within the depths of Megatron's fusion cannon.

"Whatever are you doing, Lord Megatron?" The high-nosed Vossian accent cut through Megatron's dilapidated concentration, jerking him away from the elevator shaft. "Other than destroying an elevator that I'm likely going to have to repair later...what with the Constructicons captives of the Autobots."

With his special brand of engex hitting his systems hard after the adrenaline burst from the bar, Megatron had to resist the urge to fling his head back and let out a long suffering groan. Instead he settled for gritting his denta before turning around to address the owner of the grating voice. He had only just swung himself around when he hesitated to retort, noting Starscream's sudden shock. The Seeker's attention shifted several inches south of his optics. "By Vos, what happened to your neck?"

A sudden defensive urge sprung up in Megatron to thumb the wound and yet he crushed the impulse with a prejudice. Rather than answer his second in command he retaliated with a question of his own. "Where have you been, Starscream?"

A sneer peeled apart his mouth to disrupt Starscream's otherwise charming visage. "I've been lacing the walls of our new phaser's cell with a null current—just as I was ordered to do. Seeing as I had finished the delicate work, I was going to retire to my hab-suite. Yet here I find you about to destroy the elevator."

"You were going to retire—" A hard edge like steel wrapped Megatron's words. "Even after hearing the klaxon alarms?"

"I was heading here to retire when the klaxon alarms went off." His optics narrowed of a sudden, sweeping in the whole of Megatron's frame in a single glance from pedes to helm and added quickly. "Why are you questioning me?"

Megatron wanted to retort back with 'why shouldn't he be,' but Soundwave cut into their back-and-forth before it could grow into the inevitable shout-all.

"The Autobots are escaping."

"Autobots?" Echoed Starscream with an air of genuine surprise. "Where?"

This time Megatron did let out a curt grumbling growl, just before he leaned back over the lip of the elevator shaft and fired off several shots haphazardly. The blasts from his fusion cannon echoed with ominous finality along the shaft and down the hall. When he had finished, silence befell their small group.

His cranium swiveled around and fixed on Soundwave. "And now?"

The mech in question stared at his commander briefly in complete muteness, then glanced back down the shaft. "You..." Soundwave's cranium turned back in his direction. Though the unique flanged lyrical vocals of Soundwave's vocal processor usually disguised his emotions, there was a sliver of meekness as he continued. "Missed."

"What a wonderful display of marksmanship!" Derisive dripped from every word that passed Starscream's gray derma. "I feel so confident in my lord's skills knowing that he's incapable of shooting Autobots in a barrel."

Gradually, Megatron's cranium inched around until he had Starscream in sight of his withering glare.

"You know," the Seeker continued, every word infused with the old portentous air of his city-state of Vos, "I expected that kind of bad marksmanship from Rumble and Frenzy. They are brawlers after all. But from you, Champion of the Gladiatorial Pitts of Kaon…" Tsk, tsking Starscream shook his cranium. "Well there is something to be said that your weapon of choice is a fusion cannon. There is simply no grace in the matter of finer accuracy with this high command." One slim flawless hand splayed across the glass of his cockpit. "My company excluded of course."

"The only benefits of your grace, Starscream is the edge it lends to your fancy flights of cowardice!" As the words poured from his vocal processor in hot, seething waves, Megatron advanced on the Seeker bringing to bear his towering height and physical power over the slimmer mech. The fusion cannon hummed ominously with energy. The power from within bathing his hand in red light. Nearly falling over himself to put distance between them, Starscream began to blabber incoherently. All words finally failed him as he fell under Megatron's long shadow. The light of his crimson sun optics bored into him from overhead, his face a stern mask of stone. One spark pulse, two...

"Remember whose kill count is higher."

Optics wide and round, Starscream's mouth hung open, gawking, then finally snapped shut. "Y-yours, Lord Megatron." He stammered.

A tense pregnant silence hung between them. Then, back near the elevator Soundwave shifted, servos straining under the weight. "Megatron."

"What?"

"The-" Soundwave paused as his cranium jerked two inches around, angling his helm back towards the elevator. The moment drew out long enough for Starscream to regain his composure and begin to glance between the two others suspiciously. "-Aerialbots..." Soundwave continued at length, the words dragging from his vocal processor as he forcibly tore his attention away from the shaft and focused on them, "They're leaving my range."

"Where?" Came Megatron's curt response.

Soundwave pointed back down the way Starscream had come. "Other side of the base."

"Diversion?" Prompted Starscream.

"Why?" Megatron bit back. "Phage is back that way. A diversion does not make sense."

Starscream's optics narrowed dangerously at Megatron's beside him, once more glancing him up and down. "Of course it makes sense. If the Aerialbots combine to form Superion we would have to split our forces to deal with him!" As he spoke, Starscream moved around Megatron and slide out from under his shadow. Far enough away to be out of immediate arm's reach. "And why is the phaser back that way. Matter of fact, why is she in the hab-suite section of the base at all. You were suppose to be interrogating..." his thoughts finally caught up with his mouth and his face screwed up to match his sudden displeasure. "Oh, don't tell me! Interrogating my aft."

Megatron whipped around and started off down the hall. "I do not have time for this." And initiated comm-link connection by depressing the button on his chassis. But Starscream's shrill voice chased him down the hall.

"You were drinking."

The accusation stopped Megatron dead in his tracks. Starscream's fine chiseled features flipped like thespian duality masks as his meekness gave way to a vicious countenance. "I told you—No! I warned you. I warned you to terminate her and get it over with. Instead you—what? Had drinks with her? Was your plan to sway the femme to our cause with a little sympathy chat over glasses of engex before you fragged her? Does this idea of interrogation pertain to all femmes or just Optimus Prime's? The track record stands at two to zero in favor of the latter."

"Starscream."

"What about the damage." The Seeker snarled over the warning as his optics burned into Megatron's neck. "Is that from her? She got the upper hand on you while you were engexed." Scowling at Megatron's backside the Aerial Commander stood his ground and said with soft acidity, "And you called Prime naive."

Megatron wheeled around on the heel of his pede and came to just as abrupt a halt at the crackling pop of his comm-link going off. {So, ah...} Skywarp's voice flittered through the hallway again. {I see you found Starscream.}

Glaring down Starscream, Megatron jabbed his finger into his comm-link responder. "Skywarp, have you found Phage yet."

{Yes, Lord Megatron! We found her! She's in the hab-suite wing.}

Exasperated, Megatron was just rolling his optics, mouth peeling apart to snap at Skywarp that he already knew that when Thundercracker cut in with more helpful information.

{What Skywarp meant to say,} Thundercracker strained, {is that she's outside of Shrapnel's quarters. With Rumble.}

{And our resplendent femme.}

{What did you say?}

{What, TC? I said resplendent. That means beautiful.}

{I know what it means and that's not how you meant it.}

{Aannnnd how was I suppose to say it. With feeling.}

With a snort through his olfactory, Megatron cut the chatter and caught Starscream's optics across the way. The Aerial Commander was posed with his arms crossed over his chassis. "Out of all the Seekers, I have them left to work with. And you wonder why-"

His leading arm with the fusion cannon snapped up and extended straight out, stabbing the air with a pointer digit. "Go round them up and disrupt the Aerialbot tactics before they have a chance to initiate them! Soundwave, with me!"

"And what are you going to do, oh glorious Lord Megatron."

The sneer was becoming a permeant fixture on his face. "I am going to contact all available Decepticons and tell them to meet me in the hab-suite wing. I suspect our Autobot guests," and his cranium jerked in the direction of the elevator shaft, "will meet us there."

The two Decepticon officers flanked him as they took up a brisk pace through the sea base's repetitive hallways. "You shouldn't be leading to repel this attack." Starscream said of a sudden. "In your state-"

"I'm not engexed to the point of a blackout, Starscream."

"But enough that you've already made bad decisions," his optics jerked towards the coagulated cut on his neck before flickering back to his face, "And your walk is unsteady."

"I. Am. Fine."

Starscream's optics flicked to Soundwave's behind Megatron's back. "Soundwave, make a note. I am taking command while our leader is intoxicated. Direct all-"

"This is the poorest excuse of a power grab you have ever attempted, Starscream."

"Power grab nothing." He snipped back. "You are in no state to be making split decisions! You couldn't even piece together that the Aerialbots are going to be a diversion to flood the rest of our base. I don't know about you, but I don't fancy pumping the base and fixing infrastructure without the Constructicons for the next three to six Earth months!"

"Then you should be overseeing that it doesn't happen!"

With his finer grace, Starscream dipped and whirled around Megatron's bulk, enough to capture Soundwave's attention. Beseeching, Starscream tried to implore the Communication's Officer. "Back me up here, Soundwave! As next highest ranking officer here—"

"Enough, Starscream!"

He whirled around and seized the Seeker before he could leap out of reach. In the next moment, Starscream found himself slammed into the nearest wall, pedes dangling uselessly in the air as Megatron held him pinned by his neck. "Stop the Autobots or I will throw you into solitary confinement myself."

Starscream clicked his glossa on the roof of his mouth. "I'll lead the Seekers, those Cone head drones and the Combaticons to deal with the Aerialbots."

"A wise choice."

Rumble shifted between his pedes. The red minicon adjusted his optics from Shrapnel, the floor and then back to Phage. "Look," he began, "just give me the Matrix and go."

Phage blinked hard once at Rumble then again rapidly at Shrapnel. She could not have heard right. But a nod from Shrapnel confirmed she had heard correctly. "Rumble has assured me he is speaking the truth...truths are subjective..."

Optimus's consciousness stirred uneasily in her cranium. City districts shifted and moved as the scintillating Cybertronian script of his thought processes tried to piece itself back together from the engex. Large pieces of script were slow to repair itself. She knew she was little better. He wanted to grasp at hope but millions of years of war and hardship had taught him to be cautious of treachery and deceit. That it was coming from Rumble and Shrapnel had him even more on edge. Coupled with Phage's own mistrust of people from her past human life, they were both more than leery of the offer. All of it complied to a very terse, "You expect me to believe you?"

Rumble's mouth pulled up at the corner in a lopsided sneer. His arms uncrossed and moved with jerky agitated motions as he snapped at Shrapnel, "Why are you even protecting her?"

Shrapnel's response was a very Insecticon retort—a sudden shrill chittering shriek that was as unnerving to Rumble as it was unnatural to Phage. Both cringed and shied away, but Shrapnel did not allow Phage to go very far. Her gray hand lashed out and latched on to Phage's upper arm and pulled her back, effectively locking her in at her side. The possessive motion threatened to blow open dark dusty doors in Phage's memories banks of Washington. And in the Infraspace, Optimus watched as her avatar scrambled to hold the bad memories at bay.

Across the mindscape, Optimus was aware of Phage's yawning undersea suddenly flowing by as though onto some greater destination as if draining from the lightless cavern. It was difficult to perceive purpose in the darkness, but there was movement on the mirror-like surface. As abruptly as it had began the transition ceased, and Optimus was left with the sensation that they were in a separate section of the undersea far removed from the entrance to the caverns where the memories stirred from their depths. The only thing to tell him the area was different was a lonely crag that rose from the midst of the endless lake. Nestled in to a crevice was Phage, curled in on herself. Head hung low and her slim fingers buried in the mess of her silver synthetic hair. The aurora borealis ribbons of her thought processes were still and silent. Leaving only her a fallen star lost in the cavernous depths of the earth.

Coming to a decision, Optimus moved from his shores and breached the mirror-like sea to reach her. His footfall did not drop into the opaque liquid, but rather struck solid ground. Glancing underfoot showed him he was creating a bridge of scintillating Cybertornian script and code where he trod. The bridge extended behind him to bind him to his half and stretched ahead before his step. The light of the bridge illuminated the oily undersea around him, rippling rainbow hues across its surface. Distance was a meaningless exercise in the mindscape. He reached the crag before long and knelt before her.

::Phage.::

::Optimus?:: Phage's frantic thoughts betrayed her growing unease.

She wanted to rip her arm out of Shrapnel's grip and thought better of it. Doing so had the potential to upset the crazy femme.

::I'll take Megatron over Shrapnel any day. Please!::

::Do not even think that.::

Her hands fell away to drape over her knees. When her head lifted Optimus was greeted to a surprise to find her avatar caught halfway between Alicean Witwicky and Phage. The half that was human flickered and broke at the edges in octagonal angles like any poor hologram. ::I'm sorry. I need a moment.:: The thought was as broken as her avatar's haphazard appearance. ::Found a center.:: He gathered from the shared thought that she meant the crag and with the thought came an underlying data that it was somehow important to her mindscape but he couldn't understand why. ::Just need to gather myself.::

::A rock, Phage?::

::Solid ground and a sturdy wall at my back.::

An infinitesimal stretch of silence passed between their minds. Then, Optimus said gently, ::I'll cover you. Take the time you need.::

Her optics met his. One stellar blue of her Cybertronian half, the other the bad hologram that reflected back the hazel iris that was Alicean's. ::Can you.:: The thought was hollow.

::I have to try.::

Wisely, Rumble backed off from the subject by offering Shrapnel a placating gesture with his hands. "Err, you know, never mind." Eyeing the Insecticon wearily behind his visor, he resumed his prior conversational direction as he gestured with his hand towards Phage, his digits curling and unfolding in a 'give me' gesture. "Hand me the Matrix and I'll let you leave with the Autobots."

Her fingers carded through her hair, one hand white and teal the other fair flesh with a long teal sleeve. Even her hair was trapped between the two extremes, the side that was Alicean the wild brown Witwicky curls he had been long acquainted with. ::No. No, I have to. This has to be me. They can't suspect us.::

The proposition snapped the two engexed consciousness's from their back and forth. Rumble stared hard at the femme as she stood staring at him for half a second before his words seemed to click.

"You're trying to trick me." She said slowly in that typical dazed state accompanied with too much drink.

"Trick you—" the Minicon scoffed, "Look, you're what—thirty Earth years? Is that right?"

"Twenty-nine." Half of her couldn't believe she had even answered him and the other half was irritated that she had responded with the tone of a child. Damn the engex. Now was not the time for lagged mental processes.

::Oh lord, maybe you should take over!::

::I tried to say-::

"Whatever. Just—pfft, what a joke. Primus, you're not even one vorn. Do you even know how long that is?"

"Eighty-three Earth years." The lint in her voice left the sentence open ended when it did not need to be. Twice damn the engex lingering in her systems, but it had whittled down the filter between her brain and her mouth.

::All the negatives and none of the pleasant buzz, thank you Megatron Buzz-Killer. Asshole.:: Her avatar scrubbed at her face with the palms of her hands. ::Oh god. Just take over.::

::Will it matter with you like this?::

She peeked at him between her fingers. ::Geez, what a pair we make. I'm a chatterbox and you…::

::Hrmm…silent?::

::Ughhh, shit. What was in that drink.::

Rumble caught himself as his speech tripped up. Several emotions struggled across his face before he settled on one. Muttering something that sounded suspiciously like 'she can imagine' before continuing. "I'm five million vorns. Approximately. I mean, it's not like I keep accurate count. It's more like you track Ages at this point-"

Abruptly, an unintelligent noise ripped through her olfactory before Phage straight out laughed at him. Rumble gawked and Shrapnel released her arm as she fell into a fit of engexed titters. The white and teal femme bent nearly double over and pointed accusingly at the red minicon. "Pfft—Hahahahaaaaah! You are so lying!"

Rumble's mouth screwed back up into his characteristic sneer. "I am not."

"You are too!" Phage pointed to herself and emphasized, "Wit-wicky! You think I didn't ask about that! Don't you think you can bullshit me with numbers because I was formerly human! Why even lie about it? As if millions of years wasn't enough."

The annoyance was palpable on Rumble's face as his frame stiffened and his hands bunched up into fists at his sides. "Look." he demanded, mouth tight. "Just, listen. If you stay here my fellow Decepticons will break you. Okay? Do you get that? Just look at Shrapnel." At the mention of her name, she echoed her former displeasing audio-piercing insectoid shriek at the minicon. It was shorter in length, but the other two still edged further from the her. For his own courage, Rumble rambled on as if nothing had happened, his speech only drooping in conviction before picking right back up. "That's about as nice as I can say it." His cranium swiveled and locked back in Phage's direction. "Do you think out of billions of Cybertronians that we few made it here to this bitter end out of luck? No. Every one of us –even your precious Autobots- we're all cutthroats in the end. Selfish. We made the hard decisions that landed us right and sometimes, just sometimes, that means cutting a deal with the enemy. My fellow Decepticons –they're nasty. Take ol' Starscream for instance. He's a sadist. Always has been. He dabbled in varying scientific fields before the war on Cybertron and his experiments weren't exactly ethical, you understand. Rumor was that he was experimenting on live subjects. Don't make me go further into detail. Just, he got his name because he'd make his victims scream so loud the stars would hear them. And I know that has to be true because he's done it so many times over the long vorns...to Decepticons he doesn't like. Especially too Autobots. And that's just Who. He. Is. And he want's you terminated. Starscream doesn't like quick deaths. That's our second-in-command. An upper social tier uber processing sadistic aft."

Through all the long spill, Rumble was increasingly irked by the femme's stoic mask and more so by the calm tempo of her following question. "Why are you telling me this?"

Rumble gawked at Shrapnel, a helplessness on his face. "Can you believe her? I'm making her a deal and she's questioning me." Shrapnel just shrugged, a certain tantalizing smirk pulling at the corner of her mouth. The minicon whirled back to Phage and growled, "To get the point across, Witwicky." The way he emphasized her former designation was injected with a similar strain of snark she had heard time and again from Starscream to Megatron. "You've pissed off every Decepticon here. Starscream keeps pushing to terminate you and eventually Megatron will listen because he always does. Maybe you could have avoided that, before you tried to slit the Boss's throat."

Shrapnel's cranium snapped in her direction, her facial features contorting to shock. "Why would you do that...hat...at?" A sliver strain of rage wrinkled her face, flickering just below the left optic and plucking at the corner of her mouth. The emotion was directed at Phage, who could only watch in growing concern as Shrapnel battled with herself over some internal struggle. She half expected the Insecticon to lash out at her.

::I think I just pushed whatever little help I was going to get from Shrapnel to the edge.:: Worried Phage.

::This does not make sense. The Insecticons never got on with the Decepticons.::

Then suddenly, Shrapnel turned to Rumble and asked, "Is he fine?"

Phage performed a double take at the femme Insecticon, gawking at her in disbelief. Most of the emotion spilled over from Optimus Prime. For Shrapnel to even say that, to ask. Genuinely ask if Megatron was okay... Optimus could not finish the thought, yanked from one 'Con to the next as Rumble continued to speak right over both stunned femmes.

"Yes." He snipped, then continued with Phage. "He was trying to do you a solid. Now he'll likely side with Starscream."

Her arm flared and burned with ghost signals of what Megatron had done not so long ago. God, it had only been minutes. Ten perhaps. Twenty? She resisted the urge to grab it and itch. "For the final time," she began and couldn't quite shake the tremble out of her voice, "I don't have the Matrix. Megatron already knows this." She threw in for good measure.

Behind the visor Rumble's optics narrowed, reflecting as a thin beam of light against his visor. From her peripheral vision Phage caught movement from Shrapnel as the femme's cranium snapped around to stare her down. It was enough of a forewarning for Phage to back away before Shrapnel could grab her arm again. The obvious withdrawal made Shrapnel scowl. "You've been naughty since last we met...humans were always quick to change…" Phage felt like a rock had suddenly settled in the pit of her fuel tanks. "Stealing the sacred Matrix of Life, hurting Megatron-"

"Since when do you care about him!"

Her cranium cocked to the side, mouth pulling apart in blatant surprise. Whether she was shocked that her pet had spoken back so rudely or at her question, Phage was not certain. Shrapnel started to replay, tripped over a false start in a moment of reconsideration and said instead with a note of solemnity. "Take Rumble's wonderful little offer...offer...er..."

It had to be a trick of her audios, but the nervous speech tick came back to Phage's audio receptors as off her. Phage shuddered visibly and stumbled further from the Insecticon, which only drew another agitated mechanical clicking and whirling from the femme.

"I just said-"

"I heard what you said." Rumble grumbled audibly. "Just drop the charade already."

"It's not a charade!"

"Then tell me where you hid it! You had to have hid it somewhere—in the forest." Rumble's face lit with realization. "In that cave! Its the only conclusion."

She wanted to blame the engex, or Shrapnel's lack of a concept of personal space as the Insecticon moved in to make another grab at her, or all of the above, but Phage couldn't help herself before the words slipped out of her mouth as she jerked out of Shrapnel's reach yet again and thumped into a wall. "Do I look like I'd do something that obvious?"

Silence descended hard on the hallway. Internally Phage cursed herself and the engex before Optimus could berate her for the slip. Near at hand Rumble stood gawking, processing. Finally, he said, "There was no where else."

Shrapnel's cranium inclined in the minicon's direction. "Humans will always surprise you, Rumble. They are resourceful. And clever. My banta is no exception...no one is exempt..."

Phage stepped back, tensed to flight or fight. Rumble kept staring at her and completely ignored Shrapnel. The gears were turning over loudly in his processor, but the minicon remained utterly flummoxed. "You did have it." His cranium tilted slightly. Staring at her, blinking. "The battlefield...you left it on the battlefield? That can't be right. Megatron would have found it in Optimus Prime remains unless-" his visor lit up a second time. "-during the run around! You traded it off to one of the Autobots!"

She kept glancing sidelong at Shrapnel in an attempt to keep the distance between them but the Insecticon was becoming increasingly agitated by her elusiveness. She kept Phage cut off from running down that end of the hall while Rumble blocked her path back. Gradually the two 'Cons were boxing her in against the wall.

"That can't be right either." Rumble suddenly grumbled, correcting his judgment. "The Autobots are here for you because they think you have it." His optics narrowed into an irate glare as his mouth twisted up once again. "Whose trying to trick who here? I'm making you a generous offer and you're trying to confuse me."

"Rumble-" Phage's voice came out thin and reedy, but he was not having any of it.

"Trade or no deal." Rumble snapped off. "Those are the terms."

"I don't-"

"I'm offering you time, glitch! Time for their tempers to cool off! -Shrapnel, back off of her! What is your glitch?- Pitt. I can't change that Optimus is terminated or that Megatron will engulf the Autobots and unite us," within the confines of her processor, Optimus scoffed at the very notion, "but I can give you the time to get away from here so when it happens the Decepticons might not care what you've done anymore. I can't guarantee though. We have long memories. Megatron has a very long memory. You Witwicky's should know that."

"Piss off."

"Hey!" Rumble snapped. "I didn't kill Radar or Buster! They both offed themselves following the stupid Autobot code so you can just redirect your anger elsewhere.

She dodged as Shrapnel made another swipe for her arm and hit the wall again with no space left to go as the two Decepticons encroached on her, blocking either path of escape. Her fuel pump was thudding loudly in her chassis.

"Matrix." Rumble snapped. "Tell me where it is. Now." And his right arm transformed into his pile driver. Phage nearly choked on her fuel pump.

Shrapnel whirled on Rumble, emitting that eerie mechanical chitter. Immediately, the blue arcs of electricity danced along her slender digits. "Don't touch my banta...banta...ta!"

"We talked about his, Shrapnel!" Rumble growled.

"You said she would be unharmed!"

"Pitt, you fragged up glitch! There's a pecking order, here!" Rumble argued back. "You might not want to harm her, but you'll have to sign up with the Boss! Soundwave was at the top, but I think Megatron's taken that spot after recent events! You'll be last in line, bug."

Shrapnel shrieked at the minicon. The unearthly animistic cry made Rumble step back. "I won't let any of you savage Decepticons hurt her!"

"Savage?" Rumble shouted back. "Look whose talking! I'm cultured next to you!"

"Hah! You can't claim to be cultured when you're the barbarian tearing it all down-all down-down!"

"Was that a jibe at what happened on Cybertron? You free downloading port!"

The cheeks of Optimus's avatar colored a particular shade of blue at the insult to Shrapnel as his optics went wide. Phage processed his stray thoughts and muttered, ::Did he call her a whore?::

Optimus shuffled beside her and refused to answer.

"At least we Decepticons never had to resort to pressing humans for energon!"

"You have no idea! You weren't there!" The edge of every word shrieking from Shrapnel's throat had an electrical hiss. "It was our survival or them!"

"No idea? We've been reduced to raiding human energy outposts to survive!"

"There were no human energy outposts several millennium ago!"

::This is more the Decepticon subgroup dynamics I am use too.::

The wall was uncomfortably cold against Phage's backside while she watched the rapid back-and-forth between the two squabbling 'Cons. Her digits rubbed along the smooth metallic sheets to either side of her, an aid to anchor her admist the chaos. A subtle repetitive tapping noise caught her attention. Her optics swiveled in her cranium and locked on to her right trigger finger double tapping the wall. A physical nervous habit of Prime's.

Behind a firm pressed mouth she ground her denta together and forced her finger to straighten and still. ::Optimus.:: she bemoaned in a hushed whisper even in the privacy of her own processor. A sliver of a wild thought cut through her that the minute noise would draw the attention of the bickering 'Cons.

In the breadth of the next half second that followed, an abrupt, raw idea struck her. ::Are they so preoccupied with each other that I-we can just—slip away?::

Optimus Prime's ancient consciousness stirred, and with it the headache from hell began to rear again. The engex had lessened the pain, eased the pounding behind her left optic, but as Optimus pulled hard on the reigns to gather himself back together it was returning in full angry force. His response that followed her proposition was shockingly lame. ::We could...try.::

In that very instant, Phage had the epiphany that Optimus was completely out of his element. At that moment, Shrapnel and Rumble's argument became distant thunder to her audio receptors even as they stood screaming at each other right in front of her. She wasn't sure why she had never come to this realization hours before. She supposed it was because he was Optimus Prime. That he was four million years old. Ancient by human standards. And by that very thought came the misguided notion that he should know everything. And therein was the problem. She had always just had blind faith in him. Completely and utterly. She kept trusting that he would have all the answers and she kept willingly following his orders when what she had done, with the resonance process burning in her chassis like a forge and the uncomfortable itch that something was worming, invading, snaking its way through her whole body—all of it was new to him. What he had hoped for with Megatron, a peaceful exchange of herself for supplies and energon, simply never was going to happen. They both knew that now. But they were still in a rush against the clock. They had to escape with the extraction team. There was no exception to the matter.

Everything—the situation, her- were frightening, unknown variables. And Optimus's consciousness was fumbling in the dark as much as herself.

No, no that wasn't true, she realized. She was use to this. This—she, her. As she was, her body, the lack of military software that Optimus had come to rely so heavily on. Worse than a human without a cell, she had to remind herself. She had to do this. For the both of them. Just like she had told Optimus in a fit of passion during the Stunticon attack in the washracks. She had to get creative for the both of them.

::You need to relinquish the reigns to me.::

::What?::

::Optimus...:: The thought drew out, loaded with the previous instance of him latching onto the engaged column that landed them in this situation. His avatar shuffled beside her then begrudging relented.

The headache lessened.

Hypersensitive to everything going on around her and inside her, Phage drew in a silent, steadying breath. Then painfully, gradually slow, began to inch into a crouch, sliding down the wall as the disagreement between the two Decepticons escalated. Shrapnel's whole frame was crackling with blue electricity. Beautiful yet deadly arcs leapt and ribboned from pede up along the twin pincers that framed her cranium like a crown, supercharging the air around her with crackling energy.

"-ou dare speak to me in such fashion, you minuscule basic program...program! I was a queen on this planet before-"

"Oh, shut up!" Snarled Rumble. "You drone on about your reign over this mudball planet as if it were an accomplishment! How hard could it have been? Humans are primitive now."

Her mouth curled up in contempt. "You want to talk accomplishments? Lord Megatron can barely sustain a foothold here at the bottom of the ocean while I bathed in the sun--in the sun!"

"Pft! I would have loved to see you make as much headway as you claim if the Autobots were on your afts all the time. But I mean, it's no wonder the Boss doesn't take you seriously. You claim you were queen but there's no record of you."

Shrapnel's denta flashed as she snarled, "It was before current recorded history! You have no idea how har-"

In full swing, Rumble cut her off before she could finish. "And it took you an army, the Swarm to conquer, what was it again? Some desert somewhere."

"Beautiful Kemet." Shrapnel hissed, her hands curling into tight trembling fists. "And I did not need the Swarm too-"

"Oh, wait! That's right. You lost the Swarm like you lost your crown."

A shrill, audio-piercing shriek ripped itself from Shrapnel's vocal processor. Her optics flared and burst with the energy that she had building up around her. Shrapnel's hands rose into the air, poised and ready to unleash the full brunt of her electrical current on the red Minicon.

"Are you sure you want to do that?" Rumble snapped off at her, bullheaded and challenging. "The Boss likes me. You wouldn't want to upset the Boss after everything he's done for you, would you?" Shrapnel hesitated, her frame seizing up. Then, Rumble added, "After all the progress you've made, what would Thundercracker think?"

Oddly, Shrapnel choked up at the last verbal jab. Phage's optics shifted from the emergency stairwell to the Insecticon femme. She was stunned as she watched the electrical field dissipate, hardly able to process the whys and wherefores. As far as Phage was concerned, and as far as Optimus Prime's intel went, Shrapnel should have left Rumble's circuits blackened. How such a simple threat could dissuade the Insecticon matriarch-

All of a sudden, Rumble was a blur of red. His transformation cog whirled and sung, his left arm alternating shape into the pile driver. The wall crunched in front of Phage's face. Close enough for her to feel the air whip across her face with the forceful impact. She froze, gaping hard at the object in her path. The scream of surprise that wanted to rip itself from her vocal processor got stuck behind her fuel pump. A tense silence descended the hall as the echo of the impact died. One second. Two. Gradually, Phage's optics followed along the pile driver and up its length until she could make optic contact with Rumble. His mouth was twisted into his characteristic vicious Billy Idol snarl.

"Where do you think you're going?" Her mouth peeled apart but for once, no witty remark was forthcoming. "No more games. Matrix. Now."

"How about we renegotiate the terms?" From a short distance down the hall, weapons whirled online. Rumble tensed, visor dimming as his mouth flashed denta in a self disparaging grimace.

Rising like the glow of hope that was soaring in her fuel pump, Phage jerked upwards to her full height at the familiar voice. The bright banana yellow of a certain Autobot's armor was like dawn breaking open in that dark cold hall.

"Sea Spray!" Phage cried exuberantly, her face cracking with a rare and brilliant denta-flashing smile.

Dripping salt water and leaving a trail of it in his wake, Sea Spray rounded the corner into view, entering the hab-suites wing from the emergency exit stairwell. His blaster was held firmly between both his hands, aimed resolutely at Rumble.

"Phage." The Autobot nodded once in her direction. His characteristic gruff voice was clipped and cold, immediately dampening her spirits like a chill spray of northern waters. She had a sudden flashback to Jazz's attitude earlier that day. The switch from the generally friendly mechs she knew to eons old warriors left her jarred.

Sea Spray's attention riveted from her and locked back on to Rumble. He indicated the minicon with his blaster. "Revert your arms and stand back, 'Con."

Only at Sea Spray's order did Rumble finally move. His head whipped around to acknowledge the Autobot M.T.O., and as he did so his T-Cog whirled again. His arm shifting back to his standard hand.

"Good. Now back up—Alto! Fragging glitch!"

With stiff, cold calm, Rumble took one step back from Phage while his arm was mid-process shortening and folding in on itself, micro subspace fields tearing open to slide parts and panels away for later use. True to his very faction's ideals, Rumble used the opportunity to tear open a much larger subspace field as his hand took shape and snatched his blaster as it materialized. Sea Spray's spluttering angry curses became a dull roar to Phage's audios as her whole sense of reality narrowed to the barrel end of the blaster pressed betwixt her optics.

"Stay right there Autobot," Rumble warned, "or I put a hole clean through her processor."

Time slowed to a crawl around Phage and Prime as her neural pathways fired off at lightning speeds in the fraction of that second. It was not the first time in her life she had experienced moments like this, as a life threatening situation arose and her brain module processed the threat and shot-gunned out a series of myriad paths for survival. It was cold, efficient hack and slash before she was left with one course of action that offered the highest chance of survival.

In her mindseye there was only one course of action. And there was only one little problem-

::Optimus! I need your expertise!::

The scenario around her played on as if it were a forgotten television programme left on in the background. She was only vaguely aware as Sea Spray locked up in the priceless second that she was devising out plans and collaborating with Prime.

"Don't give me your slag, 'Con." He had the weathered voice of conviction, but it sounded hollow to Phage. "I overheard the deal. Phage doesn't have the Matrix so just turn the lady over to me."

Her muscle cables tensed, ready to act out-

"Us, actually."

-and stalled. Her optics swiveled between both parties as she soaked in the new anomalies entering into the play. Jetfire, Bumblebee and Spike in his exo-suit. It was some television drama. All that was missing was the classic Quentin Tarantino standoff—no wait. Hold the thought, they were already there.

"Looks like we have you outnumbered, punk!" chirped Bumblebee, smug grin plastered across his face as their weapons trained on Shrapnel and Rumble. When Bumblebee's processor finally caught up with the input his optics were sending he did a double take at Shrapnel. "I thought you blew up!"

The Insecticon matriarch's only response was a terse unamused sneer.

The only indication Rumble gave to any sign of nervousness was the smile that ran away from his face only to immediately return. Following his gaze with her optics only, Phage grimaced inwardly. Stealthing his way behind Bumblebee was none other than Frenzy. The flick of his safety setting resounded in the tense hall like a gunshot. The Autobots jerked around to accommodate the threat from behind, like chess pieces shuffling on a board.

Frenzy's grin was wide and maniacal. "Looks like we have ourselves an old fashioned Kaonite standoff."

Half of her registered that Optimus's consciousness was processing their position but waiting on thinning patience for Sea Spray to handle the situation. Phage had no patience left. She was operating on pure adrenaline, and that left her shaky and in the state to act brash. Inevitably, their two consciousness began to clash over what course of action to take. It all boiled down to her standing there frozen in place like some blank faced piece of decorative statue.

"Mexican." She grumbled. Although she thought she had muttered it under her breath the affect was the same as if she had shouted it.

Several heads snapped in her direction but it was Frenzy's countenance that twisted up into extreme displeasure. "What was that glitch?"

She could feel her cheeks heating up again. "I said, Mexican. You mean Mexican standoff."

The head of Spike's exo-suit whipped around and glared at her. "Shut up, Phage."

Frenzy just continued to glare. "What the frag is a Mexican?"

"Mexico is a country on Earth, 'Con." Jetfire supplied. "Properly pronounced mAI-hEE-kOH. Mexican is the adjective."

"You know what," Frenzy adjusted his aim to Jetfire. "I'm going to blast your face off first, traitor."

Amid the stereotypical crazy banter that Phage was certain was some kind of pre-battle ritual for them, Prime and she had already selected what they deemed to be the best course of action for their dual survival. Amid their plotting they had taken the time to ponder her newly realized outlier ability to regenerate—and tossed giving any kind of reliance on it out the door. Although Megatron had sliced up her arm and it had healed near instantaneously neither one of them was willing to try a blaster shot through the processor. Not now, not ever. Even though she knew that on Earth, a certain species of lizard could loose its tail and regrow another. Even though she had read about how starfishes could loose an arm and an entirely new creature could grow from the lost limb. Even though she knew Sideswipe and Sunstreaker could regenerate because they had twaned sparks that refused to give out while the other still pulsed. Despite all of that, she was not willing to discover the extent of hers. She still felt pain and one demonstration and been enough. And who was to say that if she could recover from a head shot that Optimus's consciousness would recover with hers? What if there was some kind of reboot protocol that scrubbed anomalies away?

Completely unacceptable. All of it.

All the while, her optics jumped from one speaker to the next as she and Prime tried to keep pace with the macho banter that fell on one deaf audio all while trying to gauge what would be the last word that would trigger the shoot out. During the rapid back and forth, Phage had the sudden uneasy feeling that somebody was staring at her. Her optics leapt from the Autobots back to Rumble, but the red Minicon was shouting off typical taunting chatter and not looking her way. It was then that she realized Shrapnel was staring intently in her direction. Their optics caught across the way and held. Intense and silent, Shrapnel was trying to convey some meaning to her. Her optics flashed downwards then back to Phage's. She followed the direction of Shrapnel's gaze and caught sight of each of her slim fingers rubbing against the smooth worn pad of her thumb. A subtle motion that hadn't drawn any other bot's attention during the intense exchange, and one that could have been written off as a nervous tick. Only as Phage stared she realized for every digit that ran across her thumb there was a brief flash of light.

With a speed that foretold her fear that they'd be caught, Phage's optics leapt back up and caught with Shrapnel's. A wild hope bloomed in her chassis that she was desperate to grab at.

::Is she offering what I think she is?::

::We have to take the chance.::

::She could be mulling over her allegiances.::

::The Insecticons always were fickle.::

An unseated laughter rung out from Phage's avatar. ::And Rumble was just rambling about making deals with enemies.::

Optimus's avatar glowered with displeasure at the entire situation.

As the desperate conference conveyed between her and Prime, Phage found her lips pulling apart nearly of their own free will. Subtle and silent, she mouthed 'please.'

Shrapnel broke their charged contact and focused across the expanse of bodies before her, leaving Phage and Optimus to grasp at wild variables.

::Oh god, do we wait for her signal?::

::Are you willing to take that risk?:: posed Prime.

::I have a gun pointed at my head.::

::Given what Rumble was only just offering, I think it likely this is just for show.::

Once again, a harsh humorless laugh burst across the expanse of the mindscape from Phage's avatar. ::Hah! Sure. Let's go with the Decepticon may not shoot us because he has a sliver of a conscious. Or is pretending to at the very least.::

Around her the mechs prattled on as if they were at some kind of picnic. "I think you need to double check your math, Rumble-" Spike was saying, his voice echoing from the exo-suit with a flanged, synthesized depth before being rudely interrupted.

"I'm Frenzy, meatbag." The purple Minicon snapped off, taking extreme offense as if identifying his brother from himself should have been obvious.

Spike only returned the anger in kind. "I think I'd remember the purple patriotic 'Con that punched me!"

"That was me." Rumble snipped.

Spike's exo-suit's head jerked around and gaped at the very red Rumble, then back to Frenzy as the very royal purple Decepticon continued, "Hypocrite peace-talking glitch. Can't even tell the opposition apart."

"Don't listen to them, Spike." Bumblebee interjected. "Nobody can tell them apart."

"Fragger." Frenzy spat.

As with most any other person, Spike did the most predictable thing that most would do when being gaslighted—he snapped. "Shut the fuck up! There's four of us and three of you!"

"Whoa-ho! Where's the peace talk now, Witwicky boy." Shot off Rumble.

Frenzy's grin had never lessened. "You're going to need more than four to deal with us."

"This doesn't have to end in spilt energon, mechs." Intoned Sea Spray's rough garbled voice through the chaos. "Just hand over Phage and we'll go quietly."

"Pft!" Shot off Frenzy. "Quiet my aft. You call blowing a Devastator sized fist in our home quiet."

"Wasn't sure if you'd hear if we rang the doorbell."

"We took her as a medic. We're allowed to do that."

"Pretenses, mechs. Let's cut to the line of-"

Without warning, Shrapnel's electrical field crackled and flared up. Beautiful and deadly lightning arched up her body in bouncing currents to zip up to her crowning antenna. Then, all at once, the Insecticon matriarch discharged the force of her electrical storm through her hand that she shot out in a open palmed toss. The Autobots shouted and scrambled. Bumblebee tackled Spike to the floor. Sea Spray threw himself against the wall and Jetfire followed the veteran's movements, his much larger bulk narrowly avoiding the path of the streaking electrical blue arcs that zapped across the hall. So close that the underside of his left wing was singed. The only one left in the path who couldn't see it coming due to Autobot bodies blocking his view was Frenzy. The minicon took the full force of the lightning lance to the face in a violent bio-mechanical explosion that decimated his optical lens into a shower of a trillion pieces only to allow another opening for the chemical plumes of smoke to pour from his gaping mouth and sockets. When Frenzy hit the floor, he was already a convulsing mess of metal burn and singed nerve-circuits.

The beginnings of Frenzy's name were just ripping from Rumble's throat when it got cut off. Once more, Optimus seized control of Phage's body and struck out with her arms in precise, decisive martial art gestures. Her arms shot upwards in a crossed fashion, catching the gun in the crook and jerking it upward as she shifted to the side. The weapon went off scorching the wall overhead. In the next instance her arms were following through the remainder of the disarming technique with force and assuredly. The familiarity of the disarming technique staggered Phage with how second-nature it was to him. How easy it was to flow with the motions, startle Rumble, overpower him by bending his body against itself and push him to the floor. She ended up on top of the minicon, straddling his waist and jabbing his gun up under his chin.

From his prone position, Rumble gaped stupidly up into the grim face of the femme, mouth pressed to a fine tight frown and those shocking liberty blue optics borrowing through his visor into his own crimson ones. Their faces hovered a hands width apart. "You can tell Megatron that his hospitality has been deplorable." Her optics darkened to a deeper shade of blue, her face twisting further in anger to match the hostile expression. "Also, that he's a shit bartender and he can shove that Decepticon badge right up—ahem. I think you grasp the idiom."

::Are you censoring me now too!::

::You need to calm down.::

::Oh, this is me calm.::

Under Prime's directive, she jabbed the end of the barrel harder under Rumble's jaw. Briefly, her optics flickered between Shrapnel, who stood aside with her hands raised before her in a placating gesture of surrender, and the Autobots. "I am leaving."

Jazz knew the layout of the Decepticon sea base like the back of his hand. It came with the territory of war room meetings and intel debriefings. It was that knowledge that allowed him to easily navigate through the base and find his way quickly and efficiently to the command center.

The automatic doors slide open to permit Jazz entry into the Decepticon command hub. As with the kind of special operations training that came with five million years of experience, Jazz wisely hung back. Pressed into a corner of the door frame, photon blaster held up and at the ready as he strained his hearing into the room beyond.

"-ust admit it TC."

"Frag you."

"Come on! It's so obvious to everyone! You vounch on her behalf. You're taking the time out of your day to help her-"

"Somebody has to act as therapist around here and like Pitt I'd let it be the Combaticons or Constructicons!"

"You could have left it to Hook."

"She doesn't trust Hook. She trusts me."

"Look at you! You're defending her too!"

Realizing that the opening door hadn't given away his position, Jazz chanced a glance into the command hub beyond for visual confirmation of what his audio receptors were telling him. Thundercracker and Skywarp.

Karma was swift and payback was going to be a bitch.

His face screwed up listening to the two Seekers. What the frag were they going on about anyway, he thought, it couldn't have been about Phage, yet she was the only femme on the planet.

"There's something to be said of character for following a code."

"Aww—TC's a white knight."

Deciding that he didn't care about their senseless banter, Jazz chose that moment to cautiously spin out from the frame of the door. Hunkering low to the ground, weapon down, Jazz stealth sped across the open ground to close the distance between himself and the Seekers.

"That role's reserved for Megatron." To which Skywarp snorted derisively, Thundercracker amended with, "I'll admit he's harsh. Someone in his position has to be."

"Quit trying to redirect the conversation."

"I'm not-"

"Is the bug your conjunx endura?" Teased Skywarp then began chortling as Thundercracker tensed at the accusation. "So scandalous, TC. An Insecticon and a Seeker. Are you trying to create the first headline outside of Starscream's latest power grab? Come on, you can tell me. We're wingmates after all."

The blue and grey Seeker turned aside to divert his attention to the sea base's super computer, but the mech wasn't doing anything productive. A long slow grin plucked at the corner of Skywarp's mouth. "Shrapnel and Thundercracker soaring over Vos-"

"Real mature."

"Come on! Tell me what's with you two."

"Nothing is going on."

"Slag its nothing."

The world exploded in a vicious torrent of strobe lights and audio-wrecking noise pollution that rattled their endoskeletons with the bass alone. In the confusion that followed, Jazz descended on the Seekers swiftly and mercilessly. Knowing full well that a grounded Seeker was a worthless Seeker, Jazz sprang lightly into the air to gain the short distance he needed to deal Thundercrakcer a rabbit punch. His cranium crashed forward against the monitor from the force of the strike, shattering the screen as the Seeker rebounded off and dropped to the floor in a heap. Still reeling from the shrieking instrumental music and wondering why his optics were registering that life was snap shotting by, Skywarp was wholly unprepared as Jazz spun about and tackled the current Decepticon of his abject retaliation around the waist. Always a mech of constant motion, Jazz had his photon rifle shoved up at an angle against the mech's backside and fired off a single shot. Skywarp's scream was drowned in the music. And as with his scream, the racket of his body hitting the floor joined with the musical cacophony.

In the next moment, Jazz shut off the music blasting from his speakers and cut the light show. An audio-ringing silence descended the command hub. To anyone that might have heard the racket it could have been written off as an accidental pushing play with the volume too loud.

Eerie in his sudden stillness, Jazz observed his swift handiwork behind the cool blue glow of his angled visor, his mouth a grim pressed frown. He strained his audios to catch any hint that somebody might have been coming to inspect. One spark pulse, ten...

Nothing. No noise but the labored groans of Skywarp as he stirred, slow and painfully to shove his fist into the gaping wound in his chassis in hopes of staunching the loss of energon. The purple and black Seeker tried to stutter something at him. All Jazz saw was his other hand lift shakily off the ground by mere inches and his digits attempt to curl into a fist. The trademark trigger to fire a shot from his arm mounted blaster.

Jazz burst into motion. His leg shot out, his pede forcibly kicking Skywarp's arm aside before he followed up with a swift footwork, switched to the other leg, back again and curb stomped Skywarp's cranium into the floor. The mech's helm crunched under the impact and laid still after that.

A literal rolling force of energy, Jazz flowed with the motion to the console and began tapping away, keystrokes singing their own industrial chord under his determined strokes. Hacking the Decepticon systems was a piece of oil cake when Thundercracker and Skywarp had kindly left themselves logged in for him. Uploading his virus after that was no sweat at all.

The underwater base's speakers blasted to life.

Phage loved loud music, Optimus did not. But both of them could agree that the volume at which the strains of 'The Touch' by Stan Bush came out of the base's speakers was at obscene, audio-wrecking volume. The Kaonite-Mexican standoff ended with every one of them bending to cover their audio receptors.

Everyone but Rumble. It was just a factor of life with having Frenzy as his brother that sometimes the world just exploded into utter chaos like that. Seizing on his opportunity, he knocked his blaster out from Phage's grasp with a hard shove and followed that up by throwing a hard right hook that caught her across the jaw. Spit flew. Her head snapped around with the momentum, body going slack and off balance. Another opportunity that he quickly seized on to scramble out from under her and catch her with a kick that sent her slamming back against the wall. From his prone position Rumble flipped back up onto his pedes and transformed just one arm into a pile driver. None of the Autobots could stop him as he slammed the floor.

Disassembling cause and effect from one another was a difficult task for Phage after that between the world spinning around her and the ground rolling beneath her. The metal floor snapped underneath her in an effect similar to a human whipping a bed sheet. On the way down she kept going as the sea base's structure ripped itself apart in the initial shockwave. Down Phage fell to the level below. The sensation was similar to when one missed a step on a staircase. And then she hit pipes and got tangled in wires. The pipelines snapped off from the whiplash ripple and wires ripped out of the wall. Phage tumbled, grasping and then clinging to a severed pipe two inches around in diameter before she hit the level below and plunged into freezing salt waters.

The initial shock struck Prime's consciousness hard. Phage's body was much more hypersensitive to sensations than he was use to in his original form. Phage seized control and jerked back up, gasping from the shock. Sitting chest high in another hall that was rapidly flooding. Overhead, shrieking metal rendered the air, twisting, tearing, wailing. Phage's optics jerked upwards and she froze. The engaged column bucked and tore away from the wall. What should have been a powerful support beam bent and tore like paper and came careening down over her. Phage froze up, getting flashback's to the accident in Wheeljack's lab nearly a year prior. Sadly, screaming metal death was a commonplace factor in Optimus Prime's long life. He took control, ducked back into the icy water and pushed off.

Not fast enough.

The column careened and crashed over her. The Touch melded with rendering metal melded with snapping wires and thrashing water. A cacophonous shrieking noise pollution that became an indecipherable mess of just useless sound. Pain shot through her foot and lanced upwards. Breast strokes became a useless endeavor. Twisting around in the water, they found her foot had become trapped under the column and caught up in a mess of tangled wires caught around the broken column, an event that had likely happened on her way down.

The ensuing building pressure within their chassis was a foreign affair to Prime, who had no preliminary idea what it entailed. Phage on the other hand did. They needed air.

She stood on her one good foot and drew breath before diving back under to tackle the twisted mess of wires that held her leg as securely as a fisherman's net. Desperate fingers darted in and tore, tugging and pulling, succeeding in loosening one knot only to tighten another. An old Cybertronian proverb sprung to Prime's mind and rung between the space in her head, ::May your luster never dull and your wires never cross.::

::Not helping!::

They were both acutely aware of a pressing problem with each rise above water to draw another breath, that the rising water level offered them less and less room. What was once at chest level was now at the shoulder.

::Thousands and thousands of gallons pouring in all at once... How much time? Seconds. A minute? Not enough time. Not enough. How long does it take to drown?:: Her consciousness strained even as their efforts redoubled. ::They say drowning is the worst death...::

"Phage!"

She was imagining it. She had to be. Between the renewed vigor of a battle raging a level above and the water rushing in, the distant wailing of the seabase as the structure was buffeted by underwater currents and collapsing under structural duress...

Salt water sprayed her from behind. Phage jerked around and found Sea Spray wading over to her. Her fuel pump soared with relief. An emotion she wore on her sleeve as she reached for the mech.

"God, Sea Spray! Help me! Hurry! My foot! It's my foot!"

His blue hand enveloped hers and closed in a vice like grip. "Hold on, little lady!" Sea Spray said as he closed the distance between them and strained to keep her above water level. Hand grips loosened in the ensuing course of action as Sea Spray threw his shoulder strut against the fallen support column and pushed up. The twisted mass of metal inched and refused to budge, whining in protest against the Autobot's efforts. All the while, Phage had adjusted her hold from his hand to his arm and refused to release her death grip, using him as a lifeline to keep herself above the rising water. Sea Spray tried to ignore the fact that the water line had reached her neck and she was craning to keep herself above water.

The situation slammed the old M.T.O. hard, tripping recall memories from very vicious battles around the Rust Sea on Cybertron. It was hard to forget them when battle and death had marked his activation into life. Names and faces and places flashed across his mindseye, a long list that he did not want to see Phage's name appended to.

"Sea Spray! Sea Spray!"

"Stay calm." He had to shout to be heard, and shout near her audio. Damn Jazz and his music. Communication would be near nonexistent. Of course Commander Jazz had demanded they communicate by Inter Autobot Communication only.

"No!" The femme screamed back at him just to be heard. Her voice reaching him in barely audible strands. "Nonononono! Listen! Listen damn it!" And the hand that held his arm yanked him closer til her mouth was against his audio receptor. "I-" Phage spluttered and gasped to clear the salt water that was pouring into her mouth. "I have Prime!"

"You what?"

Behind the visor, Sea Spray's optics doubled and flared. He couldn't have heard that right. His head pivoted around to stare her down and the full faced battle mask retracted. Her optics flashed to the wicked deep scar that marred his face from his left cheekbone down across his lips and over to his chin, then flickered back to his optics.

"I-" More salt water filled the void of her mouth. She choked and spluttered and couldn't get it out. Water levels kept rising. Only her delicate straight edged nose was above the waterline and not for long. Sea Spray grabbed her under the crook of her arm and lifted her up as much as he could. As much as her body was willing to bend in the awkward position.

Phage gasped, face drawn and wane. "Sea Spray!" She spluttered on a cough, "I—I have Op! I—transferred-his spark and jacked his mind! Need-" His mouth fell open in gobsmacked disbelief. Relative to his own, her much smaller hand lifted off his arm and grabbed at his shoulder strut and squeezed. His head inclined, glancing marginally at her hand. The desperation in the squeeze eased to reassurance and became a more familiar sensation that was-

So. Like. Prime.

The femme sprayed salt water to clear her mouth that splattered uselessly across Sea Spray's face. He didn't even register the sensation. Gasping, she rasped shrill and panicky, "Take him! Sea Spray, take his spark!"

Sudden klaxon alarms blared in his processor. His head snapped back to its proper position. "Don't open your chassis!" His grizzled garbled vocal processor peaked on his own adrenaline. "You can't expose a spark to water!"

Quickly, she inhaled sharply just before her head went fully under. The water distorted the light of her optics, beaming bright and wide and fearful. He couldn't pull her up any farther. They both knew that.

Her death hold on the fine edges of his armor let off and her hand slipped under the water. She turned away from him and tackled the wires entrapping her leg.

With renewed determination, Sea Spray threw his back into the effort of lifting the column, all the while sending one desperate message after another to the extraction team. He didn't dare relate what Phage had just told him. He was old and wise enough to know that. That kind of information you relied in person and not over any kind of communication equipment. He only sent three words: Andromeda was chained.

And he sent that over and over.

Drowning was a concept familiar to both humans and Cybertronians, if the means were slightly different it was fundamentally eerily the same. It was just rare to hear of it happening on Cybertron before the Simanzi Massacre and subsequent Forced Flood. Drowning meant a compromised chassis. I can't make it back. Flooded air intakes. No air. Drowning meant water compromise to the spark chamber. Radical reactions. Plasma burst. Internal superheating. Melted internals. System failure catastrophic. Spark burst. Heart burst. Melting from the inside out.

Sea Spray had seen it all before.

Abandoning trying to free her leg of the wires, Phage and Prime lent their strength to aid Sea Spray to shift the column wreckage. The awkward position she had to bend to do it limited her ability to assist as she tried to push up.

"Ill get you out, Phage!"

Sea Spray's shouting was a distant, distorted affair. Beneath the water, sound was distorted. The Touch was a distant noise. The rapid pounding of her fuel pump was closer. Thundering away in her inner ear like a horrid drumbeat. More immediately, she could hear every thrash and whirl of Sea Spray's internals and the still unfamiliar thrum of her own spark core, rapid and unusual in its pace for the dual sparks she housed. Rapidly spinning, each fighting the other like dual collapsing stars attempting to resist the pull of the gravity well of each other and failing.

::I never thought I would die like this!::

::Neither did I.:: There was a note of calm finality to his thought. A regal acceptance that brought to mind the image of lords and kings knowing their end and greeting it like an old friend. ::Phage, if it ends here—like this- know that you went above and beyond what was called for.::

::Don't.::

::Alo Ata...:: The tears that sprang to her optics seamlessly washed away with the currents as one and the same. ::Et endura eyoto etu.::

::Why did you have to wait until now to tell me that! When our lives are in danger!::

::I told you years ago. When you were still human.:: A shameful bashfulness spilled over from the thoughts. ::You did not speak Cybertronian then.::

Adrenaline and desperation pooled in her breast to become a compressed point to fuel her sudden flare of anger. Her optics flared to an acidic green, the ill color illuminated off the water. ::You coward!:: She seized on the hot emotion to shove aside everything else. The energon hue between the seams of her armor drained and changed to green.

Optimus Prime's avatar stared sadly at her in the Infraspace, but the emotion in his optics shifted several times over as he observed her avatar echo the change her physical body portrayed. His battlemask was inched down indicating his mouth had opened but no thought was immediately forthcoming. She missed how his cranium suddenly inclined in the way that it did when he was picking up a transmission. Oblivious, in her anger, that he couldn't possibly be receiving a transmission at all. He abandoned what he was going to say and asked instead, ::What is that?:: He struggled to find the right words to express what it was he was seeking. ::It feels like a faulty connection.::

Her temper peaked again, and again Optimus's head inclined in the other direction, optics scanning the undersea and seeing nothing but the dark.

::What are you talking about. No, no just stop thinking.:: She grit. ::Need the air.::

Conceding to her wisdom but slow to give up on the familiar sensation, his determination pooled jointly with hers in cooperative unison and together they heaved against the column with Sea Spray, and felt it shift and inch.