Resonance

by Guardinthena

When Optimus Prime faces termination on the battlefield, Phage makes a desperate gamble to turn the tables on the Decepticons. Her plans go awry when she's taken hostage by Megatron, who believes she has the Matrix. Despite Decepticon concepts of hospitality, Phage objects to the claim that she has the sacred relic. What she does have and will not say, is Optimus Prime's spark.

19. Homecoming

Throughout the three hour flight back to the Ark, Phage-one's rest was broken intermittently by turbulent bumps, or else they were startled awake of their own accord by the fears that chased them relentlessly from the Decepticon base. Again and again they drifted off, catching rest where they could before the inevitable chaos that would bombard them at the Ark. On their final attempt at some minor stint of recharge, they were awoken by Sea Spray himself.

"Phage." Rumbled the M.T.O., his voice filling the cabin. "Phage-One."

"Hrk-!" They jerked awake in the chair, wide-opticed and crushing the armrests once again. "Decepticons?"

"No." Replied Sea Spray with a amicable chuckle. "We're home."

"Home?" Echoed Phage-One, visibly relaxing. The word never sounded so sweet. Phage-One found the window as Superion descended over the evergreen Oregonian forest. The mountain loomed before them, a dark point set against a gloomy gray sky. Pandora hoped it had rained overnight, as the fresh scent of petrichor always invigorated her. She had slight hope that breathing deep that clean air would cleanse her of the horrors she had just escaped and put as much distance between Then and the Now. And then, a sudden thought struck her as they came upon the charred and ruined clearing before the entrance to the Ark, where the fierce battle for the future of the Cybertronian race had taken place only a day prior. "Spike!" Phage-One came alert again and snatched at the chair's armrests. "He should be taken to the hospital in Portland! I don't know if-"

"Relax." Groused Sea Spray with a light chuckle. "Bumblebee broke off earlier to take him."

"Oh."

It was hard for the M.T.O. to disguise the amusement in his voice. "Don't worry, Prime, we can handle matters just fine while you recharge for a length."

Phage-One's cheeks colored a soft hue. "I cannot."

Sea Spray made a snort of a laugh as Superion touched down. "Mother hen over here.-Hold on. It's gonna be a bit of a bumpy landing." Warned Sea Spray. They soon discovered it was not so much Superion's landing he had meant, despite Superion's vast size the combiner was quite graceful and landed neatly, but what Sea Spray had referred too was when he and the remaining extraction team jumped off. Phage-One braced against the impact, and once Sea Spray had settled they began to disengage the safety restraints. His chassis plating pulled apart and immediately they were bathed in the weak morning rays of dawn. Phage-One stumbled out and clambered on to Sea Spray's waiting servo.

Pandora had been right. Dawn brought with it the cherished smells of morning dew and light rain over night had peppered the world, rejuvenating the air with such distinct woodsy scents that only Earth provided. Phage-One breathed it all in deeply, relishing the unique scents of the damp earth, dew, fresh bark, spruce and fir, the feel of the warm sunlight on their frame, and immediately felt her worries melt away as her nerves calmed and her soul settled in content. The moment was short lived as sudden movement startled Phage-One. They jumped badly and slipped an unbecoming squeal of alarm only to feel a fool when they realized it was Jazz. His red optics burned into them as he motioned with a grand sweep of his arm towards the mountain and the Autobot vessel lodged at its roots. "Welcome home, Prime, Lil' Katt."

"Already did." Grumbled Sea Spray.

Jazz waved him off before reaching to take Phage-One into his own servo. "You have to put some pazazz into it."

"Hm." rumbled an noncommittal noise from the back of Sea Spray's vocal processor. Unbeknownst to Phage-One, the M.T.O. focused his suspicious glance at Jazz's offered servo. As Phage-One moved to step onto Jazz's palm, Sea Spray drew them back towards his chassis.

"Oh!" exclaimed Phage-One as they adjusted their balance to keep from falling.

Sea Spray's cranium lifted slightly, attention refocusing on Jazz. The smile ran off Jazz's face and in a moment, his features carefully rearranged into his customary stoic frown. "Something wrong?"

"You tell me." Groused Sea Spray. Immediately processing the situation, Phage-One mumbled under their breath and rubbed at their forehead.

:This might get ugly.: The Prime sighed.

:Why? We just made it home!: Asked an exasperated Endurus.

:So many wires that bundle together.: Replied Optimus Prime cryptically.

:I do not understand.:

:Pandora, you know we, the Autobot's, have always been... overprotective of you.:

:When I was Alicean. Yes.: She drawled. :What does-oh. Oh, no.:

:Hmhmm.:

The Aerialbots disengaged from Superion and gently drifted to the barren earth around the team. The Aerialbots attention fixed on Jazz, but it was Skydive who first voiced their concern. "What happened to you?"

Silverbolt was shaking his cranium disapprovingly before he had fully touched the ground. "What he meant to say is, we have been worrying about you since the rendezvous. Are you okay, Jazz, sir?"

Jazz's frown deepened. "Just an old wound."

"So what Megatron said was true?" Clipped Sea Spray.

Fidgeting anxiously, the Aerialbots glanced nervously between their Elders. Being the leader, Silverbolt spoke for all his brothers when he inquired, "Megatron said what?"

"Nothing." Bit an agitated Jazz.

"Nothing?" Scoffed Sea Spray. "Selling out the Ark location and getting the remaining crew terminated in the bombing during Solhura Storm was nothing?"

"I didn't mean it that way and you know it." Said Jazz through carefully punctuated syllables that refined his emotions into solid conviction, red optics flaring angrily at Sea Spray's accusation.

"What?" Asked Silverbolt as he and his brothers stared on in a growing mix of alarm and confusion.

Fireflight glanced hopelessly around. "That doesn't make sense. The Decepticons have always known where the Ark is. Kind of hard to miss."

Skydive rolled his optics. "He means before launch, Fireflight." He murmured to his brother.

"Oh!" Expressed Fireflight, but at that moment Silverbolt turned and shot the quartet a stern warning glare that immediately quieted them down.

Jazz tensed at Sea Spray's accusation, clenched fists shaking. "If I could go back in time and prevent what happened I would, but I can't."

"What happened?" Tentatively asked Silverbolt with, what he hoped, was a good amount of respect in his words.

"What do you think?" Snapped Jazz. "I got sloppy. I was caught. When I refused to break, the Decepticon methods escalated-"

"-too Altihexing you." Sea Spray concluded. He vented heavily and shifted uncomfortably. A gentle servo touched Sea Spray's thumb. His attention drifted to Phage-One in the palm of his servo.

"Solhura Storm was... tragic." Phage-One's velvetine voice was a quiet soothing balm on Sea Spray's audios, yet tight with emotion. "Terribly so. Close comrades and loved ones were lost. If I had foresight I would have never assigned Jazz on the recon mission that led to his capture. But I did. And he was. These things, unfortunately, horrifically, happen. We were lucky to receive word that Jazz had been caught at all, and extract him quickly, or else the damage would have been one hundredfold worse than Solhura Storm. The knowledge that Jazz contained would have led to the destruction of the Autobot's entirely. The Ark would have never launched. And Earth would not exist in the state it does now. We all know the Decepticons would have strip mined the star system to refuel Cybertron. And yet, we were able to extract Jazz and had some forewarning the that Decepticons were coming. We survived. Earth survived. Despite that... If there is any fault to be laid for Solhura Storm, it should lay squarely on my shoulders."

The tension drained right out of Sea Spray's frame. "Damn it, Prime." He murmured quietly.

"You lost Greenlight in the attack, right Sea Spray?" Jazz asked gently.

Sea Spray gave a curt nod. "We were part of the same Wave. We onlined together. We've always been together. We thought we would terminate together. We...we... Well, it's just me now."

The whole of Jazz's frame sank. "I know no words can mend what happened, but, for what it's worth Sea Spray, there isn't a day that goes by that it doesn't haunt me. It's the last thing I think about before I recharge and the first thing I think about when I online. I...Primus, I recite their designations at night and ask myself: what could I have done different? How could I have avoided the trap? How do I prevent it in the future. How can I help other 'Bots, if possible, from avoiding the same fate." At the last line, his attention drifted to Phage-One, who cast her optics aside under the weight of Jazz's tired, but hopeful, gaze.

"What was her designation?"

"Come again?" Asked Jazz.

"If you're really keeping lists, what's her full designation?"

Without hesitation, Jazz squared off with Sea Spray and looked him straight in the visor. "Greenlight of the Forced Flood, Third Wave, Battle of Hydrax Plateau."

In the backdrop, the Aerialbots loitered around with Jetfire in uncomfortable silence. Fireflight and Skydive fidgeted anxiously, while Air Raid and Slingshot kept looking to Silverbolt for direction, who kept trying to gain Jetfire's attention with his optics alone but kept failing. The two mechs held their ground, then, finally, all remaining tension fled Sea Spray's frame and his cranium drooped towards his chassis. "Pitt, Jazz." He cursed after a time and shuffled, troubled and hurting but understanding. Then his attention landed on the Aerialbots at last and noted them staring on with wide optics and restless fidgeting. He puffed up in a halfhearted façade and said gruffly, so as not to loose too much more face in front of the vorners. "You should have warned us you were infected."

"Infected?" Squeaked Slingshot from the sidelines of the conversation.

"I've been coping with it." Murmured Jazz.

"Coping. Sure." Clicked the M.T.O. "Didn't look like it to me. Your measures to disconnect your audio receptors during combat makes a whole lotta sense now."

"I said I've been coping. And that means however I can so I can still do my job."

At last, Silverbolt bit the proverbial bullet and interjected into the conversation. "Hold the phone."

"Hold the what?" Said Sea Spray.

"Hold the phone. It's a figure of saying on Earth." Silverbolt linted.

Sea Spray stared on. "Phone? As in, commlink? Hold the...comm? -That doesn't make an iota of sense. Commlinks are integrated into our frames."

"Oh, nevermind." Exasperated, Silverbolt ran a servo over his face. "Just, wait-Hold on, Alto!" Struggled Silverbolt to find the right word in his people's tongue before recalling the Autobot word for stop, desist, or cease as he signed the motion for 'time out' with his servos. "What is going on?" He looked between his elders, of whom Jetfire was still trying to make his large frame disappear into the background. "You have a virus, Jazz? Does Ratchet know?"

"Is it treatable?" Popped in Air Raid.

Aggregated by the whole situation, Jazz vented heavily and palmed his forehead. He became a ceaseless storm of movement, gesturing wildly and shifting from pede to pede. "No! It is not treatable! Hhur...See, Prime? This is exactly why I didn't want anyone to know." He pleaded to Phage-One then turned abruptly to Silverbolt, of whom was confused why Jazz was calling Phage the Prime, and snapped. "Of course Ratchet knows!"

Sea Spray grit his denta. "Can't you tell, lad?"

The Aerialbots stared back at their Elders with blank expressions. It was Air Raid who said at length, "Uh...You, mean...his optics?"

Sea Spray gaped at the Combiners. "Yes. His optics!-"

"You can have red optics and not have the Altihex Virus." Interjected Jetfire, but his soft spoken voice was talked over by Sea Spray, who continued to say:

"-Spires of Iacon, how do you lot not know?"

Silverbolt splayed his arms wide to indicate his brothers, as if he could express so simply what should be obvious. "Sea Spray," Silverbolt tried diplomatically, "we weren't preprogrammed Made-to-Orders. We were forged with a clean slate."

"I do not understand the goal of the social experiment. The lack of information on your Cybertronian roots disconnects you terribly from the rest. Can't even remember alto of all words. The Witwicky's might know Autobot better than you." He grumbled then turned sharply on Prime. "What was wrong with my generation?"

Phage-One started as the conversation directed on them. "Nothing was wrong with your generation."

"Then why are you changing protocol with the Earth Gen?"

Phage-One's optical ridges popped up. "How did we get on to this conversation?"

"I'm just saying, removing the history and culture steps was a horrible idea."

The Aerialbot's shifted uncomfortably as the topic turned to them, but Slingshot was quick to flip the table back round. "Cliffjumper has been going on about a traitor." Jazz, Phage-One, Sea Spray and Jetfire tensed.

"This again?" Snapped Sea Spray.

Slingshot shrugged. "He has. Everyone knows it."

Jazz immediately shouted, "I am not a traitor! I would sooner terminate myself than betray the Autobot's!"

"You mean betray them a second time?" Murmured Slingshot but loud enough that they could still hear.

Jazz immediately went rigid, his red optics dilating to hot pinpoints. "Weld your trap shut, punk, before someone does it for you."

"That a threat?"

"Enough!" Thundered Phage-One. All optics locked on the femme in the palm of Sea Spray's servo. Her stance mimicked the rigid professional stance of an Autobot warrior. "Sea Spray, I demand you put me down. Now!" He did as commanded and no sooner had Phage-One touched the earth than they activated their matter displacement drive and shot back up to full size, which brought her up to Jazz's height. Their sharp, acid green optics burned first into Slingshot then everyone else. "I do not want to hear anymore talk about traitors. Am I understood?"

"But Cliff-"

"Cliffjumper nothing! I have had this same talk with him as well! There. Is. No. Traitor. And despite light duty, Jazz is still Second In Command. You will offer your commanding officer the respect he deserves or suffer the consequences. Am I understood, Slingshot? ...Primus, mechs. We just escaped the Decepticons and we are already at each other's throats? What happened here? We do not need any division within our ranks. We all have our scars, each a bitter tale of woe, but at the end of the day we must have sympathy, compassion and patience for our brothers-in-arms, because we have all been through so much hardship. At spark, we are all Autobots. If we cannot rely on one another we will surely fall apart."

A tense, awkward silence befell the group. After a time, Sea Spray shoved his servos onto his hip plates and vented. "I'm acting like a vorner, aren't I?"

"Naw." Said Jazz. "Just a good Autobot concerned for the safety of your cogsmechs. I would be just as upset."

"Jazz..." Phage-One began softly, her measured, thick cadence a soothing balm to the mechs ruffled egos. Her servo found his shoulder and squeezed. The red optics behind the shattered visor flickered on to her green ones. Phage-One offered a soft smile. "Yesterday was rough."

"Eh." Shrugged Jazz. "Typical monday."

Phage-One cracked into a wide grin. Jazz followed suit and the two shared a laugh. When they had calmed, Phage-One turned to the rest of the company and said emotionally, "Thank you. All of you, for the rescue."

Throughout the speech and ensuing conversation, Slingshot kept shuffling, and glancing askance at everyone, and despite a warning glare from Silverbolt he opened his mouth anyway. "Tch. I'm sorry, is nobody going to ask who died and made her Prime?"

Phage-One, Jazz, Sea Spray and Jetfire stared hard at Slingshot. "Oh." Remarked Jazz with a growing devilish grin. "They don't know."

"Know what?" Asked Slingshot with a sudden flip of a switch from cocky jerk to anxious vorner.

"Oh, yeah." Drawled Sea Spray. "They missed that part."

"What part?" Echoed Slingshot.

Phage-One's expression had collapsed into a stony façade. She turned sharply towards Jazz and remarked crisply. "I have a medical emergency that needs dealing with. See to this." Then, smartly, started off.

Jazz and Sea Spray took one look at each other and quickly fell in line with Phage-One, flanking the femme as an honor guard. She cast Jazz a curious look and he replied crisply, "Lost you once, can't have that again."

"What happened to patience!" Jeered Slingshot, then promptly was smacked upside the back of his helm by Silverbolt.

"Silverbolt!" Loudly called out Phage-One with such a familiar, commanding cadence that Silverbolt shot to attention. "Get your unit in line!" Gradually, Silverbolt relaxed and stared after her in growing confusion.

Ignoring the Aerialbots trailing behind them, Sea Spray remarked casually to Jazz; "In the future, full disclosure is all I ask. I didn't need that. No one did." He then glanced aside. "If I had to shoot you..."

"Megatron was going to do that for you." Murmured Jazz. "But, I would hope if I ever slipped so far down that it would be a fellow brother to end my suffering."

Slingshot's voice rose once again on the air; "What is going on!"

"Sooo..." Drawled Air Raid suddenly, drawing the attention of his Elders once again to the quintet. The mech motioned towards the Ark with both his servos. "This mean we can have a big 'hoorah' party now, right?"

Silverbolt's face immediately widened in embarrassment, but before he could lash out at his brother, Jazz tossed his cranium back and laughed. "I'm sure that's something we can arrange, yeah Prime?" And he slung an arm around Phage-One's shoulders and began to guide the team back towards the Ark's entrance. "Big ol' party to celebrate fending off a Decepticon attack, and retrieving the both of you!"

"Prime? Both?" Questioned Silverbolt.

"I can't do this anymore. I have to end their suffering." Jetfire sighed heavily.

"Spoilsport." Said Jazz over his shoulder strut to the much larger Jetfire. But the flyer just shook his cranium disapprovingly.

"This is vorner behavior."

"Doesn't harm anything letting them sweat." Challenged Jazz. "Besides, at my age, you gotta find some humor where you can take it."

Jetfire rolled his optics and addressed the Aerialbots. "You 'bots missed a lot while distracting Starscream and Bruticus."

"Missed what?" Piped up the reserved Fireflight.

"So. Much." Jetfire sighed lengthily. He was opening his mouth to explain when he was cut off by Sea Spray.

"Phage rescued Prime by nicking his spark on the battlefield. Oh, and, lifted his mind in a cortical psychic patch transfer." He added before speaking behind his servo to the Aerialbots in a conspiratorial manner but in a volume that mocked the premise. "You are addressing Optimus Prime by the way."

The Aerialbots stopped short and stared hard with differing levels of shock and confusion. Jazz dramatically called back over his shoulder strut to the Aerialbots; "Stop checking out your commanding officer! You're already in enough deep slag, Slingshot!"

That jerked the Aerialbots out of their stupor. They shifted uncomfortably, Silverbolt foremost of them who cast his optics downward, muttering, "I wouldn't- we aren't... Optimus Prime is a father figure to us."

Beside Silverbolt, Skyfire mumbled, "I am so confused right now."

Sea Spray and Jazz walked on ahead laughing uproarishly at the vorners expense with a reserved Phage-One in their midst. Jetfire glanced sidelong at the Aerialbots, offered a shrug of an apology and nodded silently for them to catch up to their jovial elders.

But ever the daring and cheeky one, Air Raid shrugged, figuring to himself if the elders were having a laugh at their expense, then all was fair game. He called after them, "If the commander looks like that."

Phage-One stopped short and openly gaped over their shoulder strut at Air Raid's boldness. "Air Raid!" Silverbolt hissed.

Jazz wiped around but kept walking backwards. "You are lucky I am in a good mood from a mission success, hothead!" He immediately turned back around, locked Phage-One's arm to snap them out of it, and said to Phage-One and Sea Spray; "Their reactions were priceless! How are we going to break the news to the rest of the crew?"

Phage-One sighed. "Why does there have to be a reveal? It is my medical issue."

"There is the fact it deals with yourself, Optimus Prime. The crew needs to know if for the morale boost alone. Besides that, I need the shock value right about now, Prime."

"Are you sure you're not a vorner?" Jabbed Sea Spray.

"Hah! As I've said, gotta keep life happening."

Phage-One shook their cranium and tried to deflect the conversation. "About that party, Jazz." Phage-One's face scrunched up. "Make it happen."

"-Yes!" Exclaimed Jazz beneath his breath.

"-It would be the best course of action for morale...But it will have to wait till after the crew has been repaired."

"Of course, Prime."

Movement at the Ark entrance caught their immediate attention. When the team looked up, a select number of Autobots had crept out from the shadow of the Ark's overhang: large, monstrous shapes deeper in the hanger bay alerted them immediately that the Dinobots were on guard duty, but it was the smaller mechs that ventured forth. Prowl was at the forefront with a grand smile sweeping his face and waving them home. To his right was Bluestreak, rifle in servo and scanning the skyline, and on Prowl's left was Trailbreaker on the same state of alert as Bluestreak. Phage-One broke out into a radiant smile at the sight of friendly faces and waved back.

"You made it back!" Called Prowl as the extraction team came within shouting distance.

Jazz splayed his arms wide and crowed jubilantly; "Did you expect anything less?" With his full faced battle mask, Jazz missed the side glare Sea Spray shot his way. But at that moment, and quite abruptly, a devious smirk stole over Jazz's mouth. His attention shifted to Phage-One beside him. With lightning reflexes he tackled the femme at the waist and stood, yanking her clear off her pedes. Phage-One shrieked, her long legs and arms flailing and omni-hair coiling tightly around her cranium in surprise. Deftly, Jazz twisted her around until he had secured her across his shoulders struts, then proceeded to fireman carry her the short distance back to the Ark. All the while, Air Raid was laughing uproarishly at his senior's antics. "And look, Prowl!" Jazz exclaimed and jostled Phage-One. "Mission success!"

Prowl tried to keep his face schooled in neutral, but his mouth kept quirking at the corner in amusement as he ushered the group inside. "I noticed."

"Jazz! Put me down!"

"I don't know." Jazz drawled teasingly. "You're in a delicate medical state. I think it'd be best if I carried you the rest of the way."

"Put me down! That's an order!"

"An order? I don't know, I think the Aerialbots are onto something. You don't look like Optimus Prime."

"Jazz!"

"Last time I let you walk Skywarp teleported you away. So no. Nope. If you want something done right the first time..."

"Skywarp is not here!"

"And what if something unforetold happened? Decepticons are tricky..."

Phage-One's tone changed abruptly into what could have only been Phage. "Why do you always mess with me like this!"

"You make it too easy, Lil' Katt. And I am still mad at you."

"For what?"

"Your moonlight phasing."

"Oh, come on!"

"It is dangerous to your health and you've been doing it anyway."

"It's not-"

:I am done with this. Get me back in my body.:

"JAZZ."

"Sorry, no. No way, Ratchet would severe my stereo system if I let you walk." Phage-One dropped her cranium in defeat and began to growl irritably, but the growl quickly turned into a small rumble from her engine. Phage-One jumped badly at the sound and clung desperately to Jazz's shoulders and back.

Jazz stopped and gawked. "Did you just-?" It took the team half a nanoklik before they realized she had scared herself, being unused to having an engine for an alt at all.

Phage-One glared daggers around at the mechs, in what was assuredly Prime, and growled, "If so much as one of you laughs..."

Jazz desperately tried to keep his face schooled to neutral. He was biting his bottom lip to keep from bursting out laughing. "I don't know what you're talking about, Prime."

"And that is why you are second in command."

"And here I thought it was for my charm." Jested Jazz good naturedly.

Trailbreaker and Bluestreak kept a watchful optic on the skies. When the company was within the shadow of the Ark, Trailbreaker asked sharply, "Were you followed?"

"Us? Followed?" Boasted Air Raid. "Naw."

"No, we were not followed, sir." Silverbolt responded respectfully.

"Now that we are in the Ark, Jazz..." Said Phage-One as they crossed the threshold into the hangar bay that served as the impromptu entrance to the crashed starship.

"Sorry, but no. Tricky Decepticons."

"Do you intend to parade me through the ship?"

"Just till the elevator."

Phage-One resigned to their fate with a noisy sigh, and took to propping their cranium up on the flat of her servo with a deadpan expression. Her omni-hair unraveled and fell in a cascading curtain that swayed with every pedefall Jazz took. The two groups blended together as the company trailed pass the watchful optics of the Dinobots and swept quickly through the hanger bay. No detail missed Prowl's attention as his optics scanned the group from cranium to pede, noting Jazz's shattered visor with interest and Phage-One's reformated frame. In particular, Prowl subconsciously pulled away from her mass of coiling omni-directional hair.

When they had passed from hearing range of the Dinobots, Prowl finally spoke up. "Ratchet was right." He said as he locked optics with her.

"About?" They asked boredly, nonchalant in their disposition.

His right optical ridge arched at the change in her vocal processor. "That your...Jazz, put her down. I cannot talk to her like this."

The two had a stare down, then Jazz huffed a sigh. "Alright. Fine. Spoil sport." Then, grumbling under his breath he added, "Not everyday I can carry Prime."

"Ah, freedom!" Phage-One teased once her pedes touched ground.

"As I was saying," Prowl began, "Ratchet mentioned we should account for the fact that you may be returning to us differently. That, given you had no alt to override, the reformat would happen quickly, and suddenly." And again his features crumpled in polite confusion as his gaze swept her from cranium to pede and back, his focus lingering on her omni-hair and, lastly, her optics. "I didn't think he meant this."

A bout of self consciousness came over her. "Jazz said I was fine."

"I said you were exotic and that only Ratchet could determine if you had suffered any internal damage from your risky gamble."

"A risk that paid off." Prowl interjected sternly. "We have Optimus Prime's spark thanks to Phage. But, did you also manage to retrieve the Prime's cranium?"

"Slag." Jazz cursed. "No." He added bitterly, upset with himself for such a critical oversight. "Got a bit carried away trying to retrieve Lil' Katt."

"I'll have to suspend all of Optimus Prime's accesses then until new passcodes can be set." Murmured Prowl. Phage-One was going to interject that that wouldn't be necessary to suspend Prime's passcodes when he could reset them himself now, but the two Autobot officers carried on with a fast paced debriefing.

"I got your message before you arrived." From his own subspace pocket, Prowl produced a brand new visor for Jazz.

"Thank Primus." Jazz sighed as he deftly depressed a button on his helm to jettison the shattered lens, traded that off to Prowl, and inserted the new one. Without missing a beat, Prowl inquired, "Who has Prime's spark?"

Sea Spray's arm popped up. "I do."

"Thank Primus." Echoed Prowl with his own sigh of relief, then promptly carried on. "Will the Decepticons be sending us their bill for house repair?"

Jazz guffawed. "If they do, send them ours. Whoever said you weren't funny was lying."

"How far back did you set them?"

"Without the Constructicons? At least half an Earth year for repairs."

"I would give it a quartex." Sea Spray interjected. "We only flooded their bar and sleeping quarters."

"That does sounds more like an inconvenient setback. Taking out their command center or thermal plants would have been helpful." Murmured Prowl.

A slow smile spread across Jazz's face. "Uploaded a virus to their central command."

"That's why your Second." Said Prowl.

Not for a lack of trying, Phage-One could not get a word in edgewise in the fast paced debriefing the Autobot Officers held enroute to the lift that would carry them up to the Command Center. Just as she resigned herself to the background of the discussion, Trailbreaker quietly intoned her designation; "Phage?"

"Yes, Trailbreaker?"

"I just wanted to be one of the first to say that we are so glad to have you back. Everyone has been worried sick."

The admission left her floundering. "They...are?"

Bluestreak, who had been near at hand and listening, was quick to gush; "Yes!" His enthusiasm and awe took her by surprise. "Why wouldn't we be?" She gave him a confused look, but Bluestreak kept on talking. "Ratchet figured out what you did!"

"For all of Ratchet's skill, I should hope so." Phage replied monotoned and unimpressed. "A simple cross examination would have revealed a lack of burnout in the spark chamber, thereby inferring that I had transferred Optimus's spark."

Bluestreak gawked and marveled at her in a way that she was wholly unused to. "No, not that! I mean, that was brilliant too!" Bluestreak exclaimed. "But the Matrix! That was amazing!"

Phage-One broke into a wide, denta-flashing smile. "Aha! So you did find it! I had hoped so!"

"It took awhile." Admitted Trailbreaker sheepishly.

Phage-One cast him an apologetic frown. "I am so sorry about that, Trailbreaker. I meant to say something more, but I was so distraught at the time..."

Trailbreaker waved her apology off. "It all turned out alright in the end."

Bluestreak, who was practically vibrating at the chance to speak again, finally burst back into the conversation. "Ratchet and Prowl figured out the Matrix riddle in the end."

Confusion swept over her. "Riddle?"

"And once we found the Matrix," Bluestreak barreled on, "and got it back from Roller," he added, muttering darkly under his breath, "Ratchet tried to place it back in Optimus Prime's chassis in the hopes that that would heal him up, ya know? But it didn't work." He moped.

:No, it wouldn't.:

Pandora perked up at the Prime's subtle thought. :Why? Mine is healing me instantly.:

:I said before.: Replied Optimus Prime after his typical brooding disposition. :I have to draw forth the Matrix energies. Yours is overflowing.:

Her processors fired off at the implication. :Whatever are you implying? Optimus?:

:Once things have settled, I need to have a lengthy and difficult discussion with you, Pandora Endurus.: A light hint of blush colored her cheeks at her level of frustration with how Optimus inflected her name but her optical ridges slid together over what Optimus wanted to discuss.

"Aah, Roller." Phage-One remarked carelessly as they often began to do when they tried to carry on the two separate conversations at once. "Did he protect the Matrix well?"

Bluestreak set his jaw, glancing aside, and pouted; "I don't wanna talk about it."

Phage-One's fine optical ridge arched high. She noted the scratches on Bluestreak's frame, then Prowl's and deduced, "Roller messed you up."

"It wasn't just me!" Bluestreak squeaked.

"Are you telling me the Autobot Elite could not handle one scout drone?"

Bluestreak became pouty. "It's not just any scout drone is it though? It's Prime's. We all got some sentimental value for little Roller."

Prowl caught an audio snippet of their conversation and ungraciously cut in. "Phage of the Ark!" Prowl cried in exasperation. "For Primus's sake, give us a better clue next time other than 'you don't have it!'"

"Prowl." Phage-One spoke calm and measured, "I was being chased by every Decepticon. What else could I have said without giving away its location?"

Prowl pinched the bridge of his olfactory and inhaled. "Fine." He stressed with a noisy exhale as he vented. "But if you ever end up in a similar situation you and I need to come up with a code word or phrase so I know what you're trying to do!"

"It's Phage-One of the Ark now." Jazz cut in.

"Phage-What?" exclaimed Prowl in shock, throwing an all too knowing look Jazz's way.

"Nobody owns the 'one' suffix." Jazz shot back.

"That is so...highly insensitive. Who came up with that?" Prowl snapped, but no one on the extraction team would own up to the creation of the designation. "Did you agree to it?" He asked Phage sharply.

They were taken off guard that they had been dragged into the dispute but replied nonetheless, "No, but-"

'No' was the only answer Prowl had been looking for and talked over her. "If Optimus Prime hears-Nevermind." He said abruptly. He became moody as the Autobot's arrived at the lift at the back of the hanger. Upon an unspoken understanding Bluestreak, Jazz, Phage-One, Prowl, Jetfire and Trailbreaker proceeded upwards, leaving behind Sea Spray and the Aerialbots to catch the next lift.

With a moment's lapse in their conversation, Phage-One finally got a word in to ask, "How is Sparkplug? Does he know about Spike yet?"

"About that." Clipped Prowl who reached across and shut off the lift by the emergency button. The elevator jerked to a halt, and whether it was Prime's militaristic mind, Phage's fight or flight drive kicking in or both, Phage-One immediately began processing that Prowl, Bluestreak and Trailbreaker formed an outer ring around Phage-One, Jazz, and Jetfire.

Calm, recited Optimus Prime's voice in her head.

"What's up, Prowler?" Queried Jazz.

Prowl pivoted on his pede to address the returning team. "Sparkplug and Hound have been gone for an cycle."

"An hour?" Questioned Jazz. "Why?"

Prowl crossed his arms. One fine optical ridge rose slowly up his forehead and disappeared under his helm. "You haven't checked the public Autobot comms have you?"

Jazz's face fell then crumpled into a stern frown. "No. Why?" But a stream of light flickered across his visor as he proceeded to check himself then promptly cursed. "Damn it, 'Bee!"

Optimus Prime quickly accessed Phage's internal comms and logged in to the Autobot public chat. In the last hour the comms had exploded. Scrolling through the tons of text revealed that Bumblebee had began texting right after Spike was admitted to the hospital. He had opened the chat by announcing mission success and then informing all Autobot's that Spike was in the hospital after suffering a lightning strike from Shrapnel and that someone needed to inform Sparkplug. What devolved was a storm of communique as ecstatic and worried Autobot's congratulated and asked a slew of questions. And Bumblebee, being the jovial, friendly talkative sort that he was, blabbed everything from witnessing Phage take a jab at Megatron in the Bar, the ensuing Bar brawl, to revealing she had nicked Prime's spark and psyche, and the inevitable healing, reactivating Spike, and cutting Megatron down to size.

"If you want something spread around the Ark..." Began Prowl.

"Tell 'Bee." Jazz grumbled. "Or Blue." He added with a curt nod in Bluestreak's direction. The dark grey mech straightened, opened his mouth to protest, paused to think the matter over then shrugged in silent agreement.

Prowl's stance relaxed as he fixed a curious gaze on Phage-One. "Is it true? Optimus Prime is really in your cranium? I heard Prime's designation dropped a few times." Phage-One inclined her head in a regal nod. Prowl beamed. "We couldn't have better news."

"You knew I had the Prime and said nothing?" Phage-One glared between Prowl and Jazz. "You're both trolls."

"Truth be told, Optimus Prime, I didn't want to say anything with the Dinobots around. They've been acting up since you fell. I was worried what Grimlock would do if he found out you were in Phage."

"They still have no idea how to use the comms?" Jazz asked.

Bluestreak made a disparaging noise. "Pft. No. Thank Primus."

Jazz waved his servo to indicate the lift. "And this?"

"You saw the comms. I had to give you a heads-up before we reached Medbay. The entire force is ready too...what's the word Spike and Buster used to use? ...Glom? Gloop?"

Phage-One's face politely wrinkled up. "Glomp?"

"That's it!"

"Ten car pile up." Supplied Trailbreaker.

Prowl seceded the idioms to Trailbreaker. "Exactly. They've been warned not to but, well," Prowl shrugged, "you're the hero of the hour, Phage. Well, except to Ratchet. He has been alternatively praising and cursing you in equal measure."

"Why?" Demanded Jazz while Phage-One's refined facial features scrunched up in consternation.

"Overworked." Prowl offered simply. "The pace he's going he's going to crack soon if he doesn't get a proper recharge. He's already had one full meltdown."

"He's doing the work of an entire medical team." lamented Jazz.

"I know." Prowl grit. "It shows. He's just pulled a twenty-four hour shift and is entering the next. When he found out he has to perform a disentanglement and severance procedure he about blew a gasket."

"I am not so sure Ratchet is just upset about the procedures."

The gathering of Autobot's focused their attention on Phage-One, noting her pensive tone and marking her brooding disposition. Prowl fancied an educated guess at their trouble. "Does this have to do with what Bumblebee reported? The healing and reactivation?" Prowl looked up from Phage-One and focused his attention on Jazz, then back again. "I assume it has something to do with having Optimus Prime's spark, but 'Bee said the light you eluded was neon green, not Matrix liberty blue."

The weight of every mech came down on her hard. "What was that about, Prime?" Inquired Jazz.

Phage-One struggled through an internal debate, mirco expressions flickering across her face. Finally, Phage-One looked between Jazz and Prowl, conflict writ across her face, and said; "Ratchet has been keeping secrets from Command. Phage...possesses a matrix of her own." As expected, disbelief sown through the faces of the mechs. They looked to each other as if hoping the other could confirm and realizing none but Phage-One could, they soon turned their wide-optic attention back on them.

"What?" Scoffed Jazz.

"Phage has a manufactured matrix?" Murmured Prowl, half talking to himself. His optical ridges met in the middle of his forehead as a cloud of worry darkened his features. "The Lazalt can grow matrices?"

Phage-One turned pleading optics on Jazz and Jetfire. "You saw with your own optics. Phage possesses a matrix. It heals and revives, and regenerates Phage as quickly as the Twins, as you must have seen at the Decepticon Bar. By luck, it has protected her from phase rot. And more. I have touched on it, and it is all that Megatron had hoped to achieve with the Heart of Cybertron. It echoes Primus's Matrix in all ways that I could probe in the small time I have had with Phage. It has even bequeathed her a title."

"How is that possible?" Gasped Bluestreak.

"What title?" Jazz asked sharply.

"As I am the Prime, she is the Endurus. Pandora Endurus. The First Who Endures." A pregnant quiet befell the group. As Optimus Prime had spoken through Phage-One, as he elaborated on the grave matter at hand, the Autobots had slowly drew from the femme until she stood in the midst of a ring in that small, confined space, speaking to half of the Autobot Command.

"This is..." began Jazz, for once at a loss for words. "Well, no wonder you refused to say anything before."

"Another matrix? We had no idea." Prowl muttered aloud, but his tone quickly rose in volume and became angrier as he carried on. "None! You were in the Decepticon clutches, in Megatron's palm and slipped right through. How many times now has that happened? Twice? This is completely unacceptable! Spires of Iacon- You healed 'Bee and revived Spike, can it also create new sparks?" Phage-One's mouth parted in a small 'o,' and stared at Prowl with round, innocent doe optics. So familiar with Optimus's expressions and Phage's mannerisms he understood a look of ignorance when he saw it. In that moment, it scared him deeply. "You hadn't even considered that yet?" Scolded Prowl.

"I just found out yesterday!" Pandora clapped back. Her smooth velvet voice dipped suddenly, taking on the deeper edge that reflected Optimus Prime had taken control. When he spoke through her, the femme glanced aside to the floor at the right as she did. "That is one of the matters I was needing to discuss with you."

"What?" Gasped Pandora.

The Autobot's glanced between each other in alarm at the exchange. Hoping to hedge off a strange argument at worse or discussion at best, Prowl continued to say, effectively drawing Phage-One's attention back to him; "If we hadn't sent Jazz and the team to extract you Megatron would have discovered this manufactured matrix." His large, frightened optics turned on Jazz. "We could have been overrun with an army of Decepticons and new combiners!"

"Assuming this manufactured matrix can create new sparks." Said Jazz.

"Why not?" Questioned Jetfire. "If it can regenerate her, heal Bumblebee and revive Spike, then logically it could also create new sparks."

"What does that mean for us, though?" Spoke up Bluestreak.

"Why does it have to mean anything?" Challenged Jetfire. "A spark is just energy."

"A spark is part of the sacred life essence of Primus. And the Matrix is suppose to act as a conduit between Him and us. If hers can create sentient life, what does that imply? Her matrix is created by the Lazalt, so any new vorners wouldn't be Primus's sparklings, so whose would they be?"

Illumination lit Jetfire's face then that he was dealing with a religious 'bot but he came back quickly, "Two things: Firstly, humans are intelligent yet not of Primus. What does that imply?" Bluestreak shifted, caught off by the logical fallacy. Before he could respond with anything, Jetifre continued on. "Secondly, I am inclined to believe that this matrix can create new, sentient life based on the functionality of her title, The First Who Endures. The First implies she is the first of many more that is yet to come."

"Exactly." Bluestreak said. "So whose are they?"

"They don't have to belong to any higher power, 'Blue."

"B-"

"Look at the humans." Interjected Jetfire. Mention of humans again caused Bluestreak to clam up. But Phage-One had become startled at the side conversation and was staring at a space of the lift wall with a deer in the headlights look ever since Jetfire had voiced his hypothesis. The large mech noticed and gave her a critical glance. "Are you unaware of a Prime's many functions?"

Her expression only deepened until it was stolen over by Optimus Prime who schooled it to a stony countenance. He glared up at Jetfire. "Enough. This was a conversation I meant to have with her privately once everything had calmed."

"Oh! Sorry, Prime."

An awkward silence befell the group then. Phage-One's facial twitches increased tenfold. They took to looking to the right and down at the floor again in what, Prowl correctly assumed, was the two consciousnesses having council with each other over what was said. Her omni-hair had come alive then and coiled tightly upon her cranium. Prowl tried to break the tension and Phage's anxiety by bringing the conversation back around. Prowl vented noisily and crossed his arms across his chassis. The shook his cranium aggressively. "What the Pitt was Ratchet thinking?"

"Is no one going to ask what The First means?" Said Trailbreaker into the tense quiet. "If that isn't ominous"

"Is it?" Challenged Optimus Prime. "Prima was the first of the Primes."

"Don't be naïve, Prime. It's different and you know that. What is Endurus suppose to be the first of? That's what worries me and it should worry everyone here. Humans never had a Prime-or, Endurus. Alicean was cyber ascended by the Lazalt. It is all by design. And I think I speak for everyone when I say that we are worried it is for a dark design. And may I say that I think we are all being hopeful here by assuming she could be the first of a new generation. She could be the first of a dark age."

"Trailbreaker." Warned Prime.

"Naw. I'm security chief. This is my concern. I doubt the Lazalt share or comprehend the Primus religion. Why, after Simanzi the generations that came after were so lost they started making up their own spin on what was what before or making up their own slag entirely. And then the Decepticons have their own idea on how to use the Matrix, Megatron especially. He sees it as a tool, a glorified battery. We don't know what the Lazalt had planned when they cyber ascended her, but we cannot rule out that it could have been for darker purposes."

Phage-One vented laboriously before Prime spoke again. "I do not have the answers to assuage your fears. The only peace I can offer is that Phage is as she has always been, our Alicean Witwicky thru and thru. She has no knowledge of the Lazalt's schemes."

"If you say so Prime." Prowl said. "Then it is good enough for me."

Bluestreak shuffled then, drawing Phage-One's attention. "What's troubling you, Bluestreak?"

"A lot." He admitted before he caught himself. He thought his next words over carefully before asking, "You said this manufactured matrix gave her a title? How long has she known it?"

All optics riveted back on to Phage-One. Optimus answered calmly, "Phage has known the designation since she first Woke, but could not accept it."

"Why not?" Questioned Prowl straightaway.

Surprisingly, Bluestreak interjected into the conversation. "Is it for the same reasons for the Chosen back on Cybertron, Prime?" All optics jumped on to Bluestreak, who continued shakily but grew stronger in his assurance as he carried on. "The Tenets of Primus dictate that the Matrix imparts the Chosen with the designation they will latter claim. The future Prime's designation is said to burn in their processors. It becomes an all consuming programme, inevitably forcing them to embark on an arduous journey to the first Primus Basilica deep within the bowels of Cybertron. The Manifold Nexus. A journey both physical and spiritual that is fraught with many dangers. We are blessed that we have a Prime to verify this." By indicating Phage-One, Optimus Prime gave a small noble nod. Behind them, Jetfire rolled his optics and crossed his arms. "Well then," Said Bluestreak with a small smile. "...Could Phage not accept the designation burned into her processor because she is on her own Manifold Nexus and has yet to be Attuned?"

"I believe so, Bluestreak." Answered Optimus Prime through Phage-One. Though Endurus thinks otherwise.

:You know I heard that.:

:Functionally.:

:I can Sense that cheeky smile in your thought.:

:And?:

:So that's how this is going to be, hm?:

"I didn't know you were so religious, 'Blue." Said Trailbreaker softly. But Bluestreak, with a humble air, merely shrugged it off.

"By your own admission, 'Blue, you don't believe her matrix is the same as Primus's Matrix." Bit Jetfire. "Why bring this up."

"I didn't say that." He challenged. "I said we have to ask whose it is."

"The Lazalt's." Grumbled Trailbreaker.

"Is it?" Bluestreak was quick to say. "The Decepticons made the Heart and it couldn't do a fraction of what Optimus Prime says this can. So you're going to stand there and tell me that some alien race imitated Primus's Matrix flawlessly?"

"High science." Intoned Jetfire.

"Shove off your high pedestal." Bit Bluestreak.

"Enough." Commanded Prime through Phage-One.

The Officers drew quiet and the atmosphere tense. Prowl broke it by speaking quietly. "Is it a manufactured matrix...or does Phage possess the Heart itself? What does your self diagnostic say?"

Phage-One slowly shook her cranium in the negative and Optimus Prime spoke through her yet again. "The shape of the chamber echoes my own, Prowl."

"That doesn't tell me anything. The Heart of Cybertron was a small crystalline star cluster that could have easily fit in an empty matrix camber. So, I ask again, what is the shape of this manufactured matrix? Have you actually seen it with your own optics?"

"We haven't." Confessed Phage-One.

"Then until we get a look at it we cannot rule out that it is the missing Heart. I would be partly relieved if it was, to be honest." Prowl admitted. "Then I would know that the Lazalt stole the Heart and do not, in fact, have the high sciences necessary for creating matrices."

"Maybe they do." Jetfire said at last. "Remember the photonic crystal we found in Peru? The temple was built on a shaft that tapped the core of Earth. The crystal was topping that, soaking up all that energy for thousands of Earth years. We never knew who built, how or why. Certainly primitive humans could not have the capability to drill a shaft to Earth's core or grow a photonic crystal. But if we look at that site from a new angle..."

"That it was made by the Lazalt." Said Jazz.

Jetfire nodded. "Things start to make a bit more sense, don't they? What if the Peruvian site was an energy harvester to empower the photonic crystals into manufactured matrices? And let's not forget the Decepticons found the photonic crystal mine in the artic circle."

"The crystals weren't powered." Jazz said quickly.

"No they weren't. But the crystalline formation matched the photonic crystal in Peru. And that is quite a long ways for primitive man to travel with large crystals."

"Under that theory, that would mean that Earth is just...a backwater energy facility." Prowl said.

"Primus help us all." Murmured Bluestreak.

"We need to reinvestigate these sites." Said Trailbreaker.

"Agreed." Seconded Prowl.

"If Earth is a energy facility for an alien race, wouldn't there be more than one site? Especially if these crystals take thousands of years to power?" Proposed Pandora.

"What would anyone need that much energy for?" Asked Bluestreak.

Once again Pandora chimed in. "Just a wild guess, but according to the Kardashev Scale we would be looking at a Type Three civilization that would require that kind of power to run a galactic spanning empire. Or...given the mines and Peruvian sites are abandoned, we could be looking at the remnants of a Stage One or Two civilization that inevitably collapsed in on itself and the Lazalt are just a new, opportunistic society on the galactic scale salvaging the ruins of the previous civilization." Jetfire gave her a peculiar look but said nothing. Then, Prime continued to add, "The meaning of this meet has gone off the track. We can stand around all day discussing hypotheticals but we are not going to get anything done standing in a lift."

"Agreed." Concurred Prowl. "The best plan of attack is to investigate the sites over again to see if we missed anything. Failing that, we need to scan Peru over for more sites."

"It very well may not be restricted to Peru." Jazz suggested.

"True enough but we have to start somewhere."

"What do we do about Ratchet?" Reminded Trailbreaker solemnly.

Once more, Jazz and Prowl looked worriedly between each other and then to Trailbreaker and Bluestreak, the latter of whom had pressed himself into the wall and was staring at Phage-One with round optics. He caught the Officers look, but Bluestreak's attention kept flickering between them and Phage-One.

Trailbreaker vented and bit the bullet. "I think an important question to ask is, did he know?"

His devil's advocate question was immediately shot down with finality by Phage-One. "There is no way Ratchet could have missed this when I brought Phage in two Earth years ago. He performed a full physical. He is the Doctor of Prime's, trained by Oscillate the Living Forge himself. There is zero chance Ratchet missed that Phage was carrying a matrix."

"Why." Jazz repeated over and over as he tried to grasp the severity of the situation dropped on their craniums. "Why? Why would Ratchet hide something like this?"

"Maybe Ratchet's infected with a cerebral shell?" Suggested Trailbreaker.

Prowl shot Trailbreaker a hard look. "Why would you suggest the Lazalt have cerebral shelled us?"

"If they can grow matrices and cyber-ascend organics then what wouldn't they do?"

But again, Phage-One shook her cranium. "Phage has spent a lot of time with Ratchet, first regaining mobility and independence after her cyber-ascension, then later when she began shadowing Ratchet to be of use. She has seen Ratchet drinking."

"So?" Challenged Bluestreak.

But Jazz and Prowl had set their chins in matching grimaces. Jazz spoke first, rumbling darkly to Bluestreak; "Back on Cybertron, did you ever hear mechs call him Ratchet the Hatchet?"

"Yeah." Bluestreak said with a bored inflection. "I thought it was just because he was a battle medic. You know, no time for pretty weld work when lasers are flying overhead. End up with a hack job but you're alive."

"Hm. Well, it's not common knowledge, 'Blue, but ol' Ratchet has a bit of a drinking problem. He's suppose to stay away from the stuff. If he's been drinking again..."

Prowl's expression darkened. "I walked in on Ratchet doing just that yesterday."

"What?" Snapped Jazz.

"He retreated to his office for another micro break. When I arrived, Wheeljack had already confronted him. I didn't think much of it. Wheeljack seemed to have handled the situation and I just needed Ratchet to perform his function."

"How does him drinking mean he's not cerebral shelled or the Lazalt equivalent of it?" Questioned Bluestreak.

Phage-One stared sadly at Bluestreak. "Ratchet resorts to his darker devices when he is under extreme pressure. Phage recalls catching Ratchet over the last two years. Thus, we can logically deduce that Ratchet is not being controlled. He is aware of his own actions and has chosen this path willingly."

"But why?" Prowl demanded. "This changes so many variables! Why would the Lazalt give Phage a manufactured matrix? Why forge her into a Prime at all? None of it makes sense. More frightening that they apparently possess the technology at all. I...I cannot commute Ratchet's logic."

"I think I can."

"Care to elaborate for us, Prime?" Asked Jazz.

Phage-One was quiet, contemplating before saying carefully, "We all know Ratchet. We all know his character. I think it is safe for me to say that I am one of the few mechs onboard that have known him the longest. Ratchet would not betray us. He would not harm us. He cares deeply and hates seeing his cogsmechs in harm. Can we all agree to this?" There was a chorus of agreements. Once all had quieted, Optimus Prime continued. "And can we all agree that Ratchet is also resolute in his resolve when he sets his mind on a goal? Or else how can a mech achieve such a high prestige as him?" And again there was a chorus of agreements and again Optimus waited for it to quiet before he carried on. "And with his honors, is he not tripped up time and again by his own hubris and authority?" And there was a round of grumbling agreement to this observation too. "Then, I conclude that the logical deduction is that Ratchet has, once again, got it stuck in his processor that he knows what's best for everyone under the guise that it is somehow protecting us." Prowl vented angrily and Jazz threw his cranium back to stare up at the ceiling. "Carrying his perceived burden is crushing him beneath its weight. It does not, however, excuse his behavior. When he is questioned, we must remember these facts about his character and understand that he has, in all likelihood, gotten in the way of himself again."

"The scope of this conspiracy will require that Ratchet be charged and court martialed." Said Prowl curtly before his mouth began twitching at the corner, threatening to curl into a sneer. "I don't think I can excuse this level of deceit Prime, no matter the source."

"Agreed." Seconded Trailbreaker. "This secret has such wide ranging effects that it could jeopardize every bot, and for what? Why? He's broken my trust in him and his professional integrity."

Phage-One's drew downcast and through her Optimus Prime remarked solemnly; "We have unilaterally invested too much trust and power in Ratchet it seems, and he has taken advantage of that. The only solution I can see to rectify the situation to prevent it from happening again is too train more medics."

"Technically, Ratchet has been with the Witwicky's." Reminded Jazz.

"True." Optimus said. "But it isn't enough. We need Autobot medics. Not humans."

"Agreed." Clipped Prowl. "We can pull some mechs aside and have them double function: Wheeljack already aides Ratchet when needed-" Phage-One made a face at the suggestion, a look that clearly translated what Optimus thought about Wheeljack around some bot's innards when he had a tendency of blowing up his own workshop on a regular basis. "I think Perceptor can be a good candidate."

"Didn't we haul in the Constructicons?" Jazz said suddenly. "Ratchet was training Hook."

Prowl's face twisted up in disgust. "How can you suggest that after what he did? I am not letting him anywhere near the Prime, let alone another Autobot!"

"We don't have many options here do we?" Jazz replied levelly. "We can't exactly afford to be choosy."

With a noisy exhale, Trailbreaker addressed Phage-One and, by extension, Optimus Prime. "What do you want to do, Prime?"

"I must be extracted from Phage."

"And that means you have to go through Ratchet." Jazz said, his stoic frown in place. "Who may be upset not that he has to perform your procedures, but that he now knows that you know who and what Lil' Katt is. His house of lies is about to crumble down around him."

"And that makes mechs dangerous." Prowl added in.

"Again, what do you want to do, Prime?" Asked Trailbreaker yet again.

"If you mean when is Ratchet going to pulled aside for questioning, it must be after I am extracted. I want to believe Ratchet is doing this out of some misguided judgment, but there is always that risk he is not. And if he is not under his own control, showing our servo now will jeopardize my extraction."

"Then we will wait till after." Prowl said curtly. "But as it stands, Ratchet cannot be trusted."

Phage-One nodded silently, the weight of command bearing down on her shoulder struts. Decisively, they said with solemn hues, "I will require all optics on the procedure in case the worst event comes to pass. As Phage-One and I will be incapacitated, we will require your vigilance in case of a situation."

"You can always trust us, Prime." Beamed Jazz. "You too, Lil' Katt. Don't either of you fret, we'll get you out of this safe and whole again."

"I certainly hope so." Sighed Optimus Prime.