Author's Notes: Another update? So soon? Even I don't know how this happened. LOL! Lately I've been in a Dreadwing mood, so this chapter gave me a good excuse to write Dreadwing. The Omega Key portion of the fic is winding down, which means this is the part of the story where the plot will start to diverge from the show's canon. To be fair though, I guess it has already. Thank you for clicking and reading. Hopefully this chapter is one you will enjoy :)
Chapter 39
With Honor
The mood in the air at Autobot HQ was a combination of celebratory and solemn. The human kids had been informed about the Omega Keys and about the potential of restoring Cybertron as soon as they built a space bridge. Miko saw how happy this news made Bulkhead and fed off that positive energy, while Jack seemed a bit more skeptical of the situation.
"So, why didn't you tell us before?" Jack asked.
"In case you haven't noticed, things have been pretty tense around here lately," Arcee replied, "We didn't want to get our hopes up, in case the Decepticons stole our chances of a new Cybertron from under us."
"But instead we stole it from under their filthy nose cones!" Smokescreen exclaimed, "We got the keys, and soon we'll have Cybertron back too!"
"Now all we need to do is figure out how to free the drones," Chromia added, "Capturing them one at a time is a mighty tall order, but so far it seems to be the most effective."
"You guys can do it," Miko chirped from her spot on Bulkhead's shoulder, "You're the best team there is. When Cybertron is restored we'll be able to get our own place and stay up all night jamming to our favorite tunes, right Bulk?"
"Uh..." Bulkhead felt put on the spot, and didn't quite know how to reply.
"You are taking me with you, right?" Miko pressed, feeling a sense of foreboding due to his lack of response.
"Miko, it isn't that I don't want you around, but..." Bulkhead searched for the right words, but all he could think to say was, "...you got school."
"Forget school!" Miko shouted, "Earth is boring! You're my best friend, and I don't want to be without you!"
"What about your parents in Tokyo?" Bulkhead pointed out.
"They haven't seen me in six months and have checked up like twice," Miko countered, "They have their own lives. I just...I...so that's it, then? You're leaving."
"You can visit," Klunker suggested, "If we get the space bridge working, then you and your friends could visit Cybertron."
"Yeah?" Miko perked up, "Cool!"
Bulkhead chuckled goodnaturedly at how adaptable Miko's mood could be. It was one of the things he liked best about her.
Most of the Autobots and humans were chatting and dreaming about the future, but one Autobot seemed conspicuously absent from the conversation. Raf couldn't help but notice that Ratchet wasn't there. Ratchet wanted to go home more than any other Autobot, so why wasn't he there cheering them on?
"Bumblebee, Bluestreak, where's Ratchet?" Raf finally worked up the nerve to ask.
[He's in his quarters,] Bumblebee replied, [He's...]
Bumblebee's words died in his vocalizer, and he turned his head to the side to avoid making eye contact with the Raf and Bluestreak.
"He's what?" Raf prodded when Bumblebee didn't continue.
"The others have been avoiding him," Bluestreak explained, "Yesterday when Smoke and Klunker got the Omega Keys, there was a problem."
"What kind of problem?" Raf asked.
"Both mechs fell out of the warship, and Sire had to grab them with a ground bridge," Bluestreak recounted, "Smokescreen was knocked off course though, and Sire could only save one. Once he learned that Klunker had the Omega Keys, he kept the ground bridge where it was and refused to save Smokescreen instead. If it wasn't for Smokescreen having the phase shifter, he would have died. Several 'Bots are mad at Sire because he almost sacrificed Smokescreen just to get the keys."
"That is awful," Raf agreed, "But he couldn't save them both, and Klunker's life is worth something too, isn't it?"
[Yeah, but it's different,] Bumblebee said, [Klunker is an old mech, and he actually asked for Ratchet to save Smokescreen. I know it was a hard choice to make, and I would never want to be in that position, but it doesn't change the fact that Ratchet still chose the relics over an Autobot.]
"No, he chose a civilian and the relics over an Autobot," Raf pointed out, "Is Optimus mad at Ratchet?"
[No. Optimus understands better than most what Ratchet is going through,] Bumblebee replied, [But Arcee and Chromia are mad at him. Bulkhead isn't too happy with him either. Even Klunker just looks at him sadly. Saline was happy though.]
"How does Smokescreen feel?" Raf inquired.
[I don't know,] Bumblebee shrugged, [He hasn't said anything about it, but I can't imagine he's happy knowing Ratchet would have let him die.]
"But he asked for it," Bluestreak pointed out, "Smokescreen said for Sire to save Klunker. So really, Sire listened to him, and it all worked out. I think Team Prime should put it behind them. We can still restore Cybertron, after all. Hm...I wonder what a new Cybertron will look like? I was a sparkling last time it looked any good. Maybe it'll be like my memories. I can't wait to see Praxus again. I wonder if they'll still call it Praxus."
Bluestreak might have kept going on his tangent, but suddenly the room blared with an alarm from the computer. Optimus went to the terminal and checked for whatever was causing the disturbance.
"It is a high frequency transmission...with an embedded message," Optimus reported.
"Who's it from?" Arcee asked.
"It is from Dreadwing," Optimus replied, "And he wants to meet with us. Today."
"Whoa!" Miko gasped, "You think he's asking for a throw down?"
"Whatever it is, you kids need to stay here and out of harm's way," Arcee told them.
"Aww!" Miko whined.
"It's okay, Miko," Raf said reassuringly, "We can play video games while they're gone."
Miko still wasn't happy, but she climbed down from Bulkhead's shoulder anyway. She considered making a run for it, but then she saw that Klunker was sitting next to the catwalk and blocking her escape. Ever since Bulkhead's parents showed up, it made sneaking through the ground bridge much harder for the kids (Miko).
"It could be a trap," Arcee remarked.
"That is true," Optimus conceded, "However, the tone of his message seemed somewhat urgent. I do not know what has happened, but I hold out hope that Dreadwing could yet defect from the Decepticons. Just in case he has strayed from Megatron's path, we should meet with him."
No one protested the reasoning, though it was clear most were still uncertain. Whatever Dreadwing wanted, the Autobots would need to be ready just in case it was a trick. Only Ratchet and Klunker stayed behind to watch the children. They needed as many 'Bots as possible if the Decepticons were planning an attack.
Starscream paced around Thundercracker as they stood in Starscream's room. It had been a long time since Starscream had been directly angry with his trine brother, but it was clear that this peaceful time was at an end.
"How could you speak back to Megatron that way?" Starscream scolded Thundercracker, "He could have executed you! Were you trying to get yourself terminated?"
"Not really," Thundercracker replied stoically.
"Not really!?" Starscream shrieked, "That's not a good enough answer! What were you thinking? You could have given away our plans!"
"What plans?" Thundercracker challenged, "So far the only recruit we have for our insurrection is Elita One, and so far all she's done is the same job she's been doing on this warship for vorns. I'm tired of living in fear and waiting for Megatron to die. When are we going to strike?"
"Thundercracker...do you understand what almost happened here?" Starscream asked soberly, "Megatron was a mere one key away from restoring Cybertron. He came close to saving our home, but now that chance is gone because you just had to save that Vehicon. If the Autobots remake Cybertron in their image, then the Primacy regains its original power and status. What do you think happens to us then, hmm? Optimus will use the restoration of Cybertron to his political advantage. He will brand all Decepticons as war criminals. We will be slaughtered in the streets, and an entire generation will never know the suffering we endured during the so-called Golden Age. If Megatron can stop this from happening, then it is our duty to see his plans through."
"Even though he turned our own into Vehicons?" Thundercracker asked pointedly, "Even though he nearly had you terminated by Airachnid? Even though he frequently beats and abuses you? Is it really worth defeating the Autobots, just to live under Megatron's rule?"
"Yes," Starscream replied resolutely, "None of that matters now. Too much is at stake. Megatron spared your life because he understands the importance of teamwork during this final stretch of the war. If we are to ever have hope of seeing our home again, then we must remain united and uphold the chain of command. Do you understand?"
"Of course I understand. I just don't agree."
With those words Thundercracker left Starscream's quarters, unwilling to discuss the situation further. As much as it pained him to admit it, he had hoped that for once Starscream's ambitions would actually lead somewhere. Instead, it just seemed to lead to disappointment...again.
As Thundercracker stormed past room after room, he couldn't help but get the feeling that someone was following him. Fearing reprisal from either Megatron or one of his minions, Thundercracker slowed his pace and gave the mental command to power up his missile gauntlets. If anyone tried to kill him, they would be in for an ugly surprise.
Thundercracker turned around, but there was no one there. Just dark purple hallways and silence. The blue seeker continued walking, but as soon as he did he felt the presence of the unseen other. He stopped again, turned around, and again saw nothing.
Unwilling to play this game anymore, he lifted his arm and aimed his weapon.
"Enough! Show yourself!" Thundercracker hollered; his voice echoing through the hall.
From behind a support beam, a Vehicon tentatively stepped out and nervously walked toward Thundercracker, who was still aiming the missile launcher.
"Why do you follow me, drone?" Thundercracker demanded to know.
"Um, I don't know if you remember me, sir," The Vehicon stammered, "My serial number is SS-ICN-12, and I, uh...you saved my life yesterday. I don't know if you remember that. You probably don't, since you had a lot of important stuff to do since then."
"I remember," Thundercracker replied, his weapon lowering and his tone softening, "Who knew one drone could make such an impression, huh?"
"Sorry you got in trouble because of me," SS-ICN-12 said sheepishly, "If it helps, I got in trouble with my squadron. They said I put a real mech in danger by being an idiot. I couldn't help it though. Lord Megatron wanted me to fly, but I can't."
"It's a pity. Flying is amazing," Thundercracker said with pride, "Do me a favor, will you?"
"Anything, sir," SS-ICN-12 replied dutifully.
"Hold still."
SS-ICN-12 tensed up but didn't move from that spot. Thundercracker didn't want to scare the Vehicon, but in this type of situation it was unavoidable. Thundercracker then took out his portable spark reader and scanned the drone. If he was going to be in trouble for saving this mech, then he at least wanted to know who it was he risked his life for.
The spark reader took only a few moments to get a reading, and when the results came in Thundercracker felt really stupid. The mech's name was Huffer. He was the son of that green menace Bulkhead. He had also been a trained Wrecker in his past life. Thundercracker just saved a Wrecker. He had never wanted to facepalm so badly before in his life.
"Did you find what you were looking for, sir?" SS-ICN-12 asked.
"No," Thundercracker groaned, "I didn't."
With those words Thundercracker walked away from the drone, back to his berth and hopefully back to dreams where his trine was complete and Cybertron was free. At least in his dreams he might get to see his dead trine brother Skywarp, and fly in a V formation once again.
When the Autobots bridged to the designated location they were bombarded by fog and cool air. Not an ideal place for a seeker like Dreadwing, but a perfect place to conceal oneself for a sneak attack. The Autobots made sure to remain on high alert, just in case.
It took no time at all for Dreadwing to fly down to their location, indicating that he had likely been waiting for them. Everyone who had energy weapons drew them, and Saline and Bulkhead turned their hands into drills and wrecking balls respectively. They feared Dreadwing would attack, or that a horde of Vehicons would jump from the underbrush, but nothing happened.
Optimus noticed that Dreadwing was carrying something, and when the seeker emerged from the fog it became clear what that something was.
"The Forge of Solus Prime," Optimus surmised.
Dreadwing said nothing. He merely threw the Forge in their general direction and stood there, waiting.
"What is it that you wish in return?" Optimus asked the Decepticon.
"Only that you use it wisely," Dreadwing replied solemnly, "A stench of dishonor has infected the Decepticons from the highest level. It is a cause I no longer wish to serve."
"Then I appeal to you again," Optimus intoned, "Join us, and help us put an end to this conflict once and for all."
"Betraying my kind is not the same as accepting yours," Dreadwing said with finality, and turned to walk away.
"Wait!" Bluestreak shouted, and Dreadwing stopped without turning around, "What do you mean 'your kind'? Have I not given the same energon to the Decepticons as you have? Have I not risked my life for Megatron too?"
"Bluestreak, what are you doing?" Arcee hissed quietly.
Dreadwing turned around to look at the one who was speaking, and was less than surprised when an obsolete warrior class Vehicon walked toward him.
"Sir, my name is Bluestreak, but you knew me as PR-35. I was one of the first Vehicons to ever be built by Shockwave. My memories were wiped and I was conscripted into Megatron's fledgling army. Have we not both been deceived by the same mech? Are we not two of the same kind?"
"PR...Praxus," Dreadwing noted, "No, we are not the same. I come from a caste that was abused and neglected by our functionalist system. Seekers were used only for scouting energon and fighting in wars. Yet we were denied that same energon, and without war our frames were left to rust. We were given no alternatives to forge our own paths. We were looked down upon as less than Cybertronian by our brethren. So no, we are not the same. You lived in the Crystal City, likely as a noble or an aristocrat."
"I was a sparkling, actually," Bluestreak told him, "My sire was, is, a medic. We were not poor, but we were not rich either. I did nothing to you, or to Megatron, to deserve this."
"I did," Jazz interjected, "And I would do it again. Name's Jazz. You probably know exactly who I am already."
"I do," Dreadwing nodded, "Your reputation as a spy and saboteur speaks for itself. While you are my enemy, I respect your work. I cannot believe Megatron would deny even you a warrior's death."
"True that," Jazz replied, "But I get why you don't wanna join the Autobots. When I was a Vehicon I thought it was all a load of slag too. I was sure they just wanted to use me, and that it would be the same as workin' for Megatron. Well, I can tell you that even before they knew who I was, it was different. Prime cares about those under his command, and I was treated with the same dignity and respect as anyone else, even though I'm a Vehicon. I'm guessin' you left because you found out about the Vehicon conspiracy, right?"
"Yes," Dreadwing confirmed, "There is no honor left in our species...anywhere. I will not join the Autobots. I have no home now, nor will I need one."
"You could still stay with us," Bluestreak pleaded, "Please don't go, sir. We can prove that there is still reason to have hope."
"No, let him go!" Saline snapped, surprising everyone, "Dreadwing doesn't deserve to be an Autobot. He has no honor. He deserves the 'Cons."
"You question my honor?" Dreadwing growled as he stepped closer, which Saline met by stepping closer to him.
"Yes, I not only question your honor, but I argue that it doesn't exist!" Saline yelled at him, "Take a good look, junior! My name is Saline, formerly ICN-994, and if you had had your way then my bondmate and I would have been killed by Knockout!"
"Wait...the miners that were malfunctioning..." Dreadwing realized.
"Yeah, that's us," Saline hissed bitterly, "Well, we survived, no thanks to you. Since you're so determined to fly off into the sunset like some sort of tragic hero, let me leave you with these words. I am a femme! I was born a femme, I am bonded, and your slagging faction can never take that away from me! I am not malfunctioning! I worked in the mines in the Golden Age, and I worked in the mines for Megatron. I'll probably die in a hole, so if you want to talk about oppression, then let's talk. Because your so-called 'kind' are nothing more than a bunch of bullies. Optimus Prime might forgive you, but I don't. You don't want true justice and peace, you just want to feel superior while killing off every innocent Cybertronian you come across!"
"That is not true!" Dreadwing roared.
"Says the Decepticon to the civilian he tried to kill," Saline retorted.
"I did not know!" Dreadwing replied angrily, "I knew nothing of your true nature. How could I? Megatron has kept this disgrace from everyone, and he condones those who are just as dishonorable as him. I...I thought Megatron stood for something greater. That he was going to give the strong yet oppressed of Cybertron freedom from those who replaced true power with the false power of wealth and prestige. How could I have been so blind to his corruption?"
"You say you didn't know, but now you do," Saline challenged, "You know now. You know that the Autobots are the only hope of hundreds of drones, yet you still condemn them because they aren't seekers. That's it, isn't it? They're not warriors, not strong mechs like you. They're laborers, medics, miners, and data clerks. Real prestige there, huh?"
"Carrier, back away," Bulkhead insisted, "I know you're trying to help, but he's armed. If he rigs you to blow-"
"Carrier?" Dreadwing asked incredulously, "This drone is your mother?"
Bulkhead didn't reply, he just glared at Dreadwing while holding his carrier back protectively. Dreadwing's features softened then, and it was as if he were seeing that Vehicon as the femme she used to be. Seeing a drone as something to be protected instead of used and thrown away made the situation real for Dreadwing. These weren't mindless machines. They were people...and Megatron took that away from them.
"Dreadwing, the choice is yours," Optimus told him, "However, if you were to help us bring our fellow Cybertronians home, I would be honored to fight alongside you. Will you reconsider your decision?"
Dreadwing had hated Optimus Prime, and all Primes, for so long. It was hard to put those feelings aside and think objectively. However, when he turned his attention to the Vehicons his spark felt conflicted. They looked just like the drones on the warship, but something was different in their visors. They looked alive, alert, and...complete. Jazz, the once proud saboteur, held his arm cannon in his servo with a look of readiness. Bluestreak, the former sparkling, looked at him with a mixture of hope and sorrow. Saline, the mother, glared at him with a look that could shrivel a vibrant plant. Each one was different. Each one was real.
"Very well, Prime," Dreadwing finally conceded, "On a trial basis I will join your team. However, if I find you to be as treacherous as Megatron, I will kill as many of you as I can until I die myself."
"Welcome to Team Prime," Optimus replied; taking no offense to Dreadwing's face-saving statement.
Optimus held out his servo to shake Dreadwing's, but the seeker merely walked past him and stood beside Jazz. Jazz looked up at him, and Dreadwing was certain that despite the lack of facial features that the old saboteur was smiling at him. This arrangement was going to take a lot of getting used to.