Author's Notes: I can't believe it's been a year since I updated this! Goodness, I doubt any of my original audience even remembers this story! Well, I remember it and I recently was inspired to write this chapter, so I hope there's someone left to read it. Sorry for the long wait. Thank you for your patience ':)
Chapter 6
The Shortage
As the days turned into weeks things grew more difficult for the Decepticons aboard the Nemesis. The one cube a day rationing made it so the larger Decepticons couldn't get enough fuel to power their weapons, which made them ineffective in battle, which meant they lost more raids, which meant even less energon. The shortage eventually progressed from being unable to power their weapons to sapping the strength from their very bodies.
The rationing process started off badly as newer models and recent recruits protested not being allowed their fill of energon. Medical grade was no longer being refined, which meant that while patients were being repaired after raids they weren't operating at an efficient level. Every mech suffered during the energon shortage, but especially those that had never known hunger before.
After a month and a half the one cube a day ration became one cube every three days. Megatron was even considering putting some of his soldiers into stasis since it was clear they would die if this kept up much longer. Even the fighting that inevitably broke out among the ranks was weakened and ineffectual. It was like watching a riot in a retirement home.
Amid this tribulation Breakdown did his best to fulfill his responsibilities to both his gestalt and Hook. He found himself spending more and more time in the medbay since sending a combiner unit into battle was impractical due to their massive fuel consumption. At first he didn't like being in the Stunticons' shared living area because he was scared of his brothers, but eventually he didn't want to be there simply because it was depressing.
The Stunticons had never experienced hunger before, and none of them knew how to handle it. Motormaster, once vibrant and strong, was now a shambling angry shell of his former self. Drag Strip's emotion circuits were on the fritz and he would randomly cry and yell at others for little to no reason.
"Why does it hurt?" Wildrider asked one day as he clutched his tank, "Ow! My tummy hates me! Fix it, Breakdown! You're a medic! Fix me!"
"I can't! You need energon!" Breakdown had snapped irritably, feeling hungry himself, "Hook says filling your tank with water will trick your body into thinking you've refueled for a few minutes. The water evaporates due to our body heat, but it'll help for a little bit."
"I don't want to die like this," Dead End mumbled from where he lay face down on the floor, "It's too slow...too painful...too passive."
"We won't die," Motormaster said unconvincingly from his spot on the couch, "Megatron will save us. He'll...come up with...something."
That conversation was haunting to Breakdown. Before his training Breakdown would've been scared of this strange painful phenomenon, but now that he knew what starvation actually did to a mech's body he was even more concerned. What surprised him however was how calm the Constructicons were in this situation. Hook was a pillar of strength in this time of need, and Breakdown didn't know how he managed it. Sure, Hook still snapped at him to do his job better, but it didn't feel like crazy talk like it did with his delirious brothers.
On this particular day Breakdown was mopping the floor after he had spilled some anti-rust gel. He felt so bad about accidentally ruining sorely needed supplies, but Hook was in a lenient mood and didn't scream at or hit Breakdown. Breakdown knew Motormaster would've busted his helm for that, yet for some reason he respected Hook for not doing that. He didn't understand why. Strength was paramount in the Decepticon cause, yet Hook could create an aura of power and authority around himself without lifting a servo. Breakdown still didn't know how he did that.
The doors whooshed open and Breakdown turned expecting to see Hook returning from the supply closet. Instead he saw Scrapper supporting Scavenger by holding the mech's arm around his shoulder. Scavenger looked barely conscious, and Breakdown would've suspected him of being overcharged if there was any high grade to be found anywhere.
"We need a berth!" Scrapper hollered at Breakdown, "Scavenger drank some of his fraggin' rust juice."
"Some of his what?" Breakdown asked in nervous confusion.
"He keeps near-empty energon cubes in his room that collect rust and fizzle out," Scrapper explained, "With the shortage Scavenger started drinking his garbage fuel so he wouldn't have to take from the community rations."
"It'll..." Scavenger wheezed before saying, "It'll give...the troops...a chance. More energon...means they'll be ready."
"Come on, sir. Let's get you to a berth," Breakdown said comfortingly as he took Scavenger's other arm and helped Scrapper guide him to a berth, "Now, let's find you some anti-rust medication."
Breakdown then went to the cabinet where Hook kept the aforementioned medicine. When Breakdown looked through their dwindling supplies however, he didn't see the anti-rust meds anywhere. Breakdown grew worried, and started checking other cabinets and shelves. It didn't matter where he looked, he couldn't find the medicine anywhere!
Hook came in at that moment, and before he could even notice his gestalt brothers Breakdown grabbed Hook by the arms and frantically asked "Where's the anti-rust medicine?!"
"You spilled the last of it," Hook pointed out in a flat tone of voice, "Without energon to clean and fuel their systems more Decepticons are getting rust infections, so we ran out quicker than expected. Whoever needs it is just going to have to wait."
"It's Scavenger," Breakdown replied, and Hook knew then that something was wrong.
"That bolt brain drank rusty energon backwash, didn't he?" Hook surmised.
"Yes, sir," Breakdown replied sheepishly.
"And he has a rust infection," Hook guessed.
"Yes, sir," Breakdown nodded; feeling even more nervous now that Hook was staring at him with a wry expression.
"Great," Hook sighed longsufferingly, "Well then, if we don't get him the medication the infection will eventually kill him."
"Kill him!?" Breakdown exclaimed in shock, "Can't we just put him in stasis lock? We put Starscream in stasis lock just last week!"
"Rust doesn't sleep, Breakdown," Hook explained, "It will continue to eat him alive even if he's unconscious. No, we need that medicine. We also need energon and supplies. Without these things this entire ship is going to die, not just Scavenger."
Breakdown watched as Scavenger was tended to by his brothers, and couldn't help but feel utterly useless as he watched the mech heave and retch in a vain attempt to clear the rust out of his system. They had no anti-rust medication, they had no energon, and if nothing was done they had no hope of saving the Decepticon army. This was not a situation the young Stunticon had been trained for.
With the medbay making Breakdown feel as depressed as the Stunticons' living quarters, he figured he might as well go home. Hook couldn't treat anyone, therefore there was little need for a medical assistant. He might as well lay on his berth and wallow in his own misery.
When he got to the Stunticons' common area he didn't see anyone in the room at first. As he stepped inside however he tripped on the prone form of Dead End. He was conscious, and staring up at the ceiling with his dim purple visor.
"What are you doing down there?" Breakdown asked in concern.
"I am conserving energy," Dead End replied stoically, "If I am to be a corpse, then I wish to be a stunning one. If I can avoid movement for the duration of my life then I will maintain the fine polish I administered to myself a few hours ago."
"We're gonna get through this, Dead End," Breakdown vowed, "I don't know how, but somehow the Decepticons are going to survive. We can't let the Autobots win."
"What are they winning, exactly?" Dead End asked pessimistically, "The opportunity to live a few more vorns on this planet? Hah! They don't even want it. They just don't want us to have it."
"Come to bed, Dead End. You can recharge there," Breakdown gently urged his brother.
"Don't you understand? Megatron gave this planet to us. It's ours," Dead End growled softly, "They're starving us out in the hopes of taking the planet from us, and then they're going to give it back to the humans. As if those apes can appreciate what they have here."
"You're delirious," Breakdown said anxiously, "The energon deprivation is making your processor run in circles."
"And it does not do this to you?" Dead End asked piercingly, "Breakdown, you're dying too. You might as well lay down on the floor with me and wait for our burial at sea. In fact, just punch a hole in the wall, and allow the ocean to consume us."
"Go to bed!" Breakdown snapped urgently.
"No!" Dead End shouted back at him as he stood up, "I may want to die, but I do not want to die without leaving behind a legacy."
"What are you talking about?" Breakdown asked.
"I'm talking about the energon shortage," Dead End whispered conspiratorially, "We can be heroes, Breakdown. Just you and me. Your medical knowledge and my cold ruthless efficiency...we would be unstoppable."
"I still don't understand what you're talking about," Breakdown replied in frustration.
"I'm talking about the Ark. Autobot Headquarters," Dead End replied as he leaned in closer to Breakdown, "You and I are going to break into Autobot Headquarters, and we are going to steal energon and medical supplies. All we need is a decoy, me, and someone to sneak in and get the supplies, you."
"That's insane," Breakdown argued, "That sounds like something Wildrider would come up with!"
"That's what makes it brilliant," Dead End replied; undeterred, "The Autobots have the greatest tactical minds in the galaxy working for them. They expect plans within plans within plans. They won't expect us to do something so obvious and so crude. Think about it. If we bring back that energon, then we'll be able to conduct raids again, which means even more energon. Are you with me, brother?"
"Well...I...Oh, alright. I'm in."
Driving to Autobot HQ was an arduous ordeal. Every mile felt like torture for their empty tanks and weary tires. Breakdown wondered why he allowed Dead End to talk him into this, but remembering the dim optics and hopeless faces of his comrades answered his own question. He was doing this because if he didn't then his people were going to starve. As a healer, Breakdown couldn't allow that.
/Picking up anything on the Autobots' frequency?/ Dead End asked over the comm.
/Not yet,/ Breakdown replied, /Are we in their territory yet?/
/Yes we are,/ Dead End practically purred, /Any moment now we'll have our subspaces filled with energon./
/You sound oddly excited about this,/ Breakdown commented.
/I am. I can't explain it,/ Dead End replied almost shamefully, /It's like another processor has taken over my logic circuits. I think it's called...instinct. I don't know. It's something inside me that says I don't want to die; that I must live at all costs. I fear I'm having what humans would call a 'crisis of faith'. All my life I've wanted to die, and now when I'm so close my body has changed its mind./
/Well why would you want to die in the first place?/ Breakdown inquired, /Life is everything. It's life. Every experience we have is life. Why would you want that to end?/
/Oh, I don't know. Let's tally up the totality of our experiences, shall we?/ Dead End sarcastically replied, /From the moment we were born every experience has led to pain. Motormaster's punishments equal pain. Megatron's orders lead to pain. Battling with the Autobots also leads to pain, and oftentimes humiliation as well. Even succeeding in our mission will ultimately lead to a negative outcome, because then we'll have to go back to Cybertron and leave behind the only home we've ever known. From the moment I was born I knew death would be the ultimate feeling of peace. No more pain, no more suffering, no more humiliation. And yet...I find in our darkest hour that I want to survive. Why?/
/Because life is the only real thing we have,/ Breakdown declared, /Life is all we're born with, our most prized possession, and we all know eventually it will be stolen from us. Still, we fight for it because everything we are is wrapped up in it. Why do you think I'm so paranoid, huh? Because I don't want to die. I want to survive no matter the cost, and now that I work as a junior medic I can use that same fevered energy to help other mechs survive too./
/You mean you feel this way all the time?/ Dead End asked incredulously, /Wow, I never knew your life was so terrible. I hope this 'will to live' thing leaves me soon. I don't want to turn into another you./
/You know what? You're a real jerk sometimes,/ Breakdown grumbled.
Breakdown didn't have to wait for a witty reply from Dead End, as they had finally arrived at the Ark. Both mechs transformed into robot mode and hid behind some boulders that surrounded the area. It was always weird to the Stunticons that the Ark was half buried in a volcano. It made the place look like an artifact. They were surprised the Autobots hadn't seen them yet, and wondered if they could both sneak inside. That hope was quickly dashed when five vehicles exited the large orange structure.
"Come on out, Decepticons!" A folksy yet tough sounding voice ordered.
Dead End poked his helm out slightly to see who it was, and noted that Ironhide must have been the one that spoke. The other four Autobots were Warpath, Snarl, some new guy with flames painted on his red body, and some pink guy with a weird looking chassis that looked quite nice. Oh wait, that was a femme. Dead End had never seen one before, and now wondered what all the fuss was about. It just looked like a mech with curves.
"Who is it?" Breakdown whispered.
"It doesn't matter who they are," Dead End hissed as he drew his gun from subspace, "Once the battle commences, sneak around to the entrance and get that energon. No matter what happens to me, don't stop until you get those supplies back to the Nemesis."
Breakdown gulped, and Dead End swiftly hoisted himself over the rock and charged for the battle line! The pink Autobot was about to ask how many other Decepticons there were in the area, but Dead End fired at her before the question could be answered. Soon everyone was shooting at Dead End, who was managing to dodge the attacks of the powerful but slower heavies the Autobots had sent out to defend themselves. Snarl tried swinging his spiky tail at Dead End, but the red mech dodged the stegosaurus expertly.
"Give it up, 'Con!" Ironhide shouted as he fired liquid nitrogen at Dead End, "There's no way you can beat us!"
"I can...certainly...try!" Dead End yelped in between dodging blasts.
Breakdown meanwhile snuck behind the rocks, and kept himself low to the ground. He knew this would be hard, especially since his loud blue and white paint clashed with the sandy color of the terrain. He wondered if maybe Dead End should've been the one to sneak in, but he dismissed the thought as the open entrance came into view. He wondered if an army of Autobots was waiting for him, with their staring eyes and merciless trigger fingers. He knew he had to risk it, but his fritzing nervous circuits were getting the better of him.
He looked one last time to make sure no one saw him. Dead End was still uninjured, Ironhide was missing every shot, Snarl was dizzy, Warpath was shooting relentlessly but kept hitting behind Dead End, and the other two were driving around to the other side in hopes of cutting Dead End off. This was it. Breakdown had to get inside. It was now or never.
Breakdown practically leapt into his alt mode and drove as quickly as he could into the building before abruptly stopping before he was all the way inside. Okay, there was no one inside the entrance. So far so good.
Breakdown transformed back into robot mode and slunk around to see if anyone was in the main control room. Gears was at the controls of Teletraan 1, and at first Breakdown was sure he'd never get past the temperamental minibot, but then heard a strange grinding noise coming from Gears. That was when Breakdown realized, Gears was snoring. That lazy bum was asleep!
Realizing that he would have to be very quiet, Breakdown placed each pede carefully on the floor as he walked. He couldn't allow himself to wake the minibot. He had to get to the nearest energon dispenser. If he could he would also go to sickbay. Hook needed supplies, or else the Decepticons would all fall apart. Without that anti-rust cream Scavenger could die. Breakdown couldn't let his mentor or Scavenger down, not after everything Hook had done for him.
Breakdown managed to make it past Gears and the control room, and proceeded to slink down the hallway, keeping his body close to the wall just in case there were cameras. It probably wouldn't help, but Breakdown's paranoia insisted he had to keep to the walls just like spies did on TV.
Breakdown looked into every room he came across where the door wasn't locked, and he quickly found the rec room. It was...beautiful. Chairs, a couch, a big TV, and two energon dispensers. Breakdown never realized how magnificent a room with energon could look. There was just one problem. The room wasn't empty.
Jazz was sitting at one of the tables with Wheeljack, both watching the TV screen. That was when Breakdown realized the screen wasn't showing an earth program, but the battle taking place outside. Dead End was leaking energon from several places, and it was clear that if something wasn't done soon he wouldn't survive. After all, he didn't have much energon left to lose.
"I can't believe they only sent out one Decepticon," Wheeljack commented; never taking his optics off the screen.
"Somethin's fishy," Jazz concurred, "There's gotta be more. What is ol' Buckethead plannin'?"
Breakdown couldn't enter the room lest he be discovered, so he stayed on the edge of the doorway watching the fight. He could feel Dead End's pain through the bond, now that Dead End was no longer strong enough to keep the bond closed off. Breakdown feared for his brother, and for Menasor, but maybe it was for the best. Dead End probably felt better dying like this than wasting away on the Nemesis. At least, that was what Breakdown told himself.
What Breakdown saw on the screen next however gave him some hope, not just for his brother but for the mission. Ratchet had gone out into the chaos and was treating Dead End's wounds! Dead End might become a prisoner of war, but at least the Autobots would keep him alive to use as a bargaining chip. Ratchet being outside also meant that the medbay was empty, and Breakdown would have a few precious minutes to steal energon and medical supplies.
He rushed away from the doorway and hoped that Jazz and Wheeljack didn't see him. No one chased him, so he assumed he got away. Breakdown didn't give himself time to breathe an intake of relief, instead continuing on his way in search of sickbay. He found it a few minutes later after trying several doors, and was stunned by the sight of it.
Just like the Decepticon medbay, this medbay was huge. It didn't feel as cold or sterile however. There were tools everywhere, especially wrenches, and there were no curtains sectioning off the different beds. Everything was open and warm and lived in. The walls and berths were orange, naturally, and Breakdown briefly wondered who in the pit designed this place with such an ugly color scheme. Purple seemed so much more dignified than orange.
Pulling himself out of his reverie, Breakdown started stuffing everything in the cabinets into his subspace. He didn't even look at what he was grabbing; he just grabbed. Then, quick as a flash, Breakdown went over to the energon dispenser and started pouring energon into empty cubes he had brought with him. He would grab the medical grade once he was finished getting regular fuel for himself and his comrades. He even considered hoarding some for himself and his brothers just in case Megatron decided to take the lion's share of their haul.
While Breakdown was filling up the second cube a shadow fell over him, and he gasped and jumped as he realized he had been caught. A red and white mech with a blue visor was standing before him, and Breakdown's frantic mind somehow managed to recall the name First Aid.
"A Decepticon!" First Aid shrieked in alarm, "You won't get away with this!"
Breakdown felt frozen as that ice blue visor stared into his spark. It didn't even occur to Breakdown that his opponent was unarmed and just as frightened as he was.
"My gestalt will be here any moment to apprehend you, so I suggest you run!" First Aid shouted, his vocalizer cracking slightly in nervousness.
"Can I at least fill up this cube first?" Breakdown dumbly asked.
Breakdown knew that was exactly the wrong thing to say, but he couldn't help it. Despite his fear he was still desperate; his haggard body crying for energon. They had risked too much to come out of it empty-handed.
"Fill up the cube? Are you crazy? I just said reinforcements are on the way," First Aid reminded him, "Wait, are there more Decepticons coming here too? Is that why you're still here?"
"Hey, are you scared?" Breakdown abruptly wondered.
"No, I'm not scared!" First Aid lied, "I'm just, uh, reluctant to engage in battle."
"Why?" Breakdown asked.
"Well, I'm a pacifist for one," First Aid explained.
"Oh, well that's okay. I'm from the Pastific Ocean too," Breakdown shrugged, "But I don't see what that has to do with fighting."
"No, a pacifist. It means I don't believe in committing acts of violence," First Aid explained as patiently as he could manage.
"Oh. So, uh...you don't actually have a gun, do you?" Breakdown realized.
"Well...no," First Aid admitted, "My brothers are coming though. I wasn't lying about that."
"You from a combiner unit?" Breakdown asked almost casually, feeling less afraid.
"Yes, the Protectobots," First Aid replied, a semblance of pride in his tone of voice.
"Oh. I'm from the Stunticons," Breakdown told him, "I'm a leg. You?"
"I'm an arm," First Aid replied.
"Well then, if Dead End makes it here could you not kill him? He's an arm too," Breadown requested.
"I would never kill an injured mech!" First Aid cried out in offense, "As a junior medic it is my duty to care for all sentient life, not just my comrades."
"You're a junior medic?"
"Yes, I am working under Ratchet to become a fully certified medic. I hope someday I will be good enough to be even half as renowned as he is."
"I'm working under Hook. He's tough on me, but I think I'm learning a lot."
"You're a medic's apprentice?" First Aid could hardly believe it, "But I thought the Stunticons were all bloodthirsty monsters."
"We are," Breakdown replied shamelessly, "But that doesn't mean I can't have a hobby."
"If you're a medic then how could you want to attack us without provocation and rob us blind?"
"You make it sound like this isn't your fault," Breakdown growled, and First Aid flinched, "Look, we're in a bad way. You stop our raids, and you keep us from getting any energon! If we don't do something, then we're all gonna die! We're out of medical supplies, out of food, and out of options! Even Megatron is losing power! Uh oh...I think I just said too much."
"It can't be that bad," First Aid replied somewhat defensively, "We don't steal energon, yet we always have enough."
"The humans give it to you," Breakdown scoffed dismissively, "I don't know how you brainwashed those monkeys, but for whatever reason they give you everything you want. You have access to their technology, their energy, and their experts. We have this-" Breakdown brandished his gun for emphasis, "-and we're gonna use it if that's what it takes to survive. So don't you act like you're better than us, because you would be us if our places changed."
First Aid looked conflicted, and Breakdown put his gun back in subspace as he prepared to take off before the Protectobots showed up to kick his skid plate. As he was almost to the entrance however First Aid cried out "Wait!"
Breakdown turned around and saw a dark purple cube in First Aid's servos, much richer looking than the stuff he shoved in his subspace.
"Take this," First Aid insisted, "You need medical grade. Especially if someone in your group gets injured."
"You're kidding, right?" Breakdown asked skeptically, "We're Decepticons. You're an Autobot. Why would you help us?"
"Because you need it," First Aid replied as if it explained everything, "I hope someday we don't have to be enemies. Until that day, just try to keep yourselves together."
Breakdown took the cube and put it in his subspace, still a little stunned by that unexpected act of kindness. He was about to go when he heard the telltale sound of ambulance sirens. Ratchet was back!
Breakdown hid behind a berth while Ratchet drove in and transformed, carrying a wounded Dead End in his arms. First Aid looked both nervous and piteous of the injured Decepticon, aware that it was the brother of their medical supply thief. Ratchet ordered First Aid to sterilize some tools, and he began hooking Dead End up to a cube of med grade energon. He had patched Dead End up on the battlefield, but the Stunticon would need surgery if he was going to survive.
As Breakdown watched them work on his brother, he knew he would be unable to provide the physical and emotional support Dead End deserved. No matter what, Breakdown had to get back to Decepticon HQ with the stolen supplies, and that was exactly what he did. He left his brother to be a prisoner of the enemy, and he snuck out to go back to the Nemesis with their much needed supplies.
