Slag, I wish Prowl were here, Bumblebee thought as he wormed his way deeper into the crevice where he'd taken refuge. He'd have processor-over-mattered our way outta this in a nanoklik, or at least kicked afts and taken names. Hope he's enjoying his vacation, because we sure aren't.
This should have been a simple mission. Go to the island, check and see if the Dinobots were still there, ask Grimlock if he wanted to go to Cybertron, and hurry back to the mainland once Grimlock told them to slag off. It should have taken them an hour, two hours tops, and they could go back to helping to pack up the base and driving Ratchet up the wall. And on the slim chance that Grimlock actually agreed to go back with them, they could have brought back some help. Hauling all their junk to the new base by Sumdac Tower would go much more smoothly with three extra pairs of arms, right?
He should have known by now that things could never go smoothly for the Autobots on this dirtball. Yes, the Dinobots were still here… and so were three of Starscream's obnoxious clones. And somehow they'd managed to talk the Dinobots into joining their side.
Bulkhead hunkered low behind a litter of fallen boulders, trying to work his bulk behind the barrier. His back kibble poked out from behind the rocks, and Bumblebee wanted to tell him to find a better hiding place… but he didn't dare speak aloud. Not with the Starscream wannabes and their new pets within audial-shot.
Voices rang through the tunnels of Meltdown's old base, and Bumblebee worked himself deeper into the crevice.
"You LOST them?!" a shrill, oddly accented voice demanded - Slipstream, Starscream's female clone. "One's bright yellow and the other's the size of Grimlock's giant aft, and you LOST them?!"
"Me Grimlock's aft not giant!" came the indignant, gravelly reply - the aforementioned Grimlock.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" That voice sounded just like Starscream's, enough so that it sent chills up Bumblebee's spinal strut, but it shook with terror. "I almost had them, but they took off towards the old lab! That place is terrifying! Who knows what kind of horrible traps Meltdown and that spider creature left behind?"
"For Pit's sake," grumbled another Starscream-esque voice, this one more arrogant than frightened. "If you'd have sent me after the Autobots, I would have captured them effortlessly! I'm not afraid of a silly human-built lab!"
"Enough yapping out of both of you," Slipstream snapped. "Thundercracker, take Skywarp and search the rest of the tunnels. Grimlock, take the Dinobots and search the forest. They couldn't have gone far."
"Yes, flier-lady!" Grimlock roared, and titanic footsteps thundered away.
"Ugh… such an inelegant lug," Thundercracker grumbled. "I don't understand why you let him moon after you like that."
"If he's on our side, I don't care, so long as he keeps his paws to himself," Slipstream replied. "Get moving. I'll check the lab. If you find those Autobots, use any means necessary to put them out of commission. We're NOT going to let them offline us like Starscream, or lock us up like Ramjet and Sunstorm."
"Who made you our boss?" demanded Thundercracker. "If I were in charge…"
"Oh, shut up and get moving," Slipstream ordered.
Bulkhead and Bumblebee exchanged a glance as footsteps trailed off. Neither dared speak aloud, but Bulkhead thumped the armor on his thigh with a blunt finger, tapping out a rapid series of clicks - a code, similar to the Morse Code of the humans. Autobots often resorted to it in situations when speaking aloud, even over their personal comms, was too risky, and Bumblebee had to admit that this was just such a situation.
Three quick taps, two slower. Okay?
Bumblebee responded with a tap to his forearm plating - three quick taps, two slow, then one more tap. Okay for now.
Bulkhead nodded and tapped his thigh again - one tap, a pause, then three slow taps. Is backup coming?
Bumblebee responded with two slow taps. Yes. At least he hoped that was the right answer - he'd radioed Prime for backup before everything had gone to slag. And Prime was the most standup commander he'd ever had. There was no way he'd leave them to rust… right?
Three slow taps from Bulkhead, then three quick ones. What do we do now?
Two taps spaced about a second apart from Bumblebee, then two quick ones. Wait.
Bulkhead huffed in frustration. Bumblebee couldn't blame him - just sitting and waiting was pure torture. He wanted to charge these stupid Starscream knockoffs and their Dinobot pets and kick their skidplates, or at least give them a faceful of stinger blasts. But even as headstrong and reckless as he could be, he knew he and Bulkhead didn't stand a chance against six opponents, especially ones as powerful as Decepticons and Dinobots.
C'mon, Prime, where are you? he thought, squirming further into the crevice. Or did Ratchet make you leave me here? Is this my punishment for dropping his hydrospanner down the sewer grate? I told him I'd go down there and fetch it…
Footsteps clumped down the tunnel, and he froze, wondering if his movements had made too much noise. If he'd managed to attract attention, he hoped it was at least the scaredy-cat clone. Perhaps he and Bulkhead could come up with some means of spooking him.
A shadow fell across the tunnel floor… and Bumblebee grinned widely. It was the wide-winged silhouette of a Seeker, and judging by the fact that the Seeker in question wasn't yakking up a storm about how much better he was at everything than his fellow knockoffs, it must be Skywarp. And while Skywarp was still formidable in a fight, Bumblebee figured that if they could spook him badly enough, it would enable them to overpower him without too much trouble.
He hurriedly tapped out a quick message to Bulkhead. Strike on my signal.
Bulkhead looked unsure but tapped out a reply - three taps, then two. Okay.
Bumblebee raised one hand and counted off on his fingers. Three… two… one!
And with that, he lunged out of the crevice… or tried to. He'd managed to jam himself in tightly enough that his attempt to leap at their attacker ended in a pained grunt and the grinding of rock on metal. He tried again, but with much the same result. Slaggit, he was stuck!
Bulkhead's lunge was much more effective, and he threw himself out of his hiding place with a bellow as he flung his wrecking-ball weapon at the intruder...
Only for a clawed hand to reach up and grab the projectile right out of the air. Bulkhead stared, mouth agape, at the mech he'd just tried to clobber - not the cowardly Seeker, but the silent and menacing Swoop. Even as he watched the Pterodactyl Dinobot flexed his claws, digging deep furrows in the wrecking ball before hurling it back at Bulkhead and knocking him over.
The slagger, Bumblebee thought, thrashing to work himself free of the crevice. He kept his wings spread to look like one of the Seekers at first glance! I didn't think the Dinobots were that bright! Unless maybe Slipstream had told him to do that - the Dinobots weren't terribly intelligent, but they were certainly impressionable and would follow orders without question if they recognized someone as their commander.
"Hmph, not bad, Swoop," Thundercracker noted, stepping out from behind the slender Dinobot. "Though if I had come across him first, he wouldn't be in any shape to get back up again."
Swoop gave Thundercracker a look of utter disdain before pulling out his weapon - a flail that looked as if it had been crafted from molten lava. Bulkhead's optics widened, and he scrambled backwards… only for his back to hit the tunnel wall.
"Bulky!" Bumblebee gave one last desperate lunge forward… and tore free of the fissure with the horrible screech of stripped paint and complaining metal. He staggered forward, stingers crackling to life, and scrambled to put himself between his friend and their two attackers.
"You lay a servo on him and I'll kick your afts clear to the Fringe territories!" he snapped.
Thundercracker and Swoop glared down at the yellow bot, and Bumblebee gulped. Perhaps this hadn't been the smartest course of action after all.
"Out of my exceptional spirit of generosity, Swoop, I'll let you take the big one," Thundercracker ordered, cracking his knuckles with a sinister grin. "I'll eliminate the little one."
"Oh slag," Bumblebee murmured, and he dismissed his stingers and grabbed Bulkhead's arm, trying to drag the green mech further down the tunnel. It was like trying to budge a mountain, and Bulkhead was too dazed from his earlier blow to be much help. Still, Bumblebee refused to abandon him… even if it meant both of them got scrapped.
Thundercracker raised his arms, guns thrumming with power… only to give a screech of pain as something slammed into him with enough force to bowl him over. Swoop squawked indignantly as he, too, was knocked aside. His flail whistled through the air, leaving a comet-trail of flames behind as he swung it at his attacker, but the vehicle swerved to the side, narrowly avoiding the weapon and running over Thundercracker in the process.
"OUCH!" The blue Seeker gripped his leg, snarling. "You'll pay for that, miserable Autobot!"
The crimson fire truck unfolded and planted himself between Bulkhead and the Decepticon-Dinobot attackers, battle-mask sliding in place and axe in his hands. Optimus Prime raised the weapon, the plasmatic blue edge illuminating the tunnel and gleaming in bright splashes from the armor of everyone present. His optics burned with anger - not the rage of battle, but the righteous anger of a hero sworn to protect his friends at all costs.
"Boy, am I glad to see you," Bulkhead moaned, sitting up and rubbing his dented helm.
"What took ya so long?" Bumblebee demanded, dropping Bulkhead's arm and dashing forward with stingers armed to join Prime's side.
"You're welcome," Optimus replied, and though his mask hid most of his features his optics glittered with a sort of resigned amusement. "We had to get past Grimlock and Snarl to get down here. Sorry to keep you waiting."
"Just glad you're here now," Bulkhead admitted as he climbed to his feet. "Let's kick their cans!"
Swoop let out a fearsome scream and lashed out with his flail. Bumblebee expected Optimus to block the blow with his axe, but instead he raised his arm and unleashed a spray of flame-retardant. The flail impacted against his chest… and promptly crumbled to ash, its molten heat dissipated by the foam spray.
Swoop stared at the handle of his weapon, as if unable to process what had just happened… and that moment was all the opening Bumblebee needed. He slammed his stinger-weapons together and fired a focused blast of electricity, and Swoop squalled as he fell to the tunnel floor, his chest plates smoking from the blow.
Thundercracker, meanwhile, had managed to stagger to his feet by this point. He snarled and raised his fists, taking a step forward… only to shriek and fall flat on his face. Optimus had fired his tow cable while the Seeker was distracted, tangling his legs and tripping him up.
"Cuff them quick," he ordered, tossing a pair of stasis cuffs at Bumblebee and another at Bulkhead. "Then we'll take them back to the surface."
"What about Slipstream and Skywarp?" asked Bumblebee as he fastened the cuffs around Swoop's wrists, ignoring the Dinobot's furious snarls.
Optimus retracted his mask and smiled. "They won't be troubling us. Ratchet lured them into one of the reformatting chambers in Blackarachnia's old lab and locked them in. He magnetized the door too, so they won't be getting out anytime soon."
Bumblebee winced, remembering what had happened to Wasp in that chamber. "Isn't that kinda harsh, boss-bot?"
"The chamber's disconnected from any power source," Optimus assured him. "They're just being held prisoner, not turned into technorganics or anything." His smile faded, and Bumblebee felt a quick pang of guilt for reminding him about his past… but the moment passed.
"Help me get these two to the surface," Optimus ordered. "Then we'll come back for the other two Seekers."
"What about the other two Dinobots?" asked Bulkhead.
"Big lugs took off into the woods," Ratchet huffed as he entered the tunnel. "Far as I'm concerned, we can just leave them there. I knew sending someone here to see if they wanted to join us was completely useless."
"At least we seem to have gotten an answer of sorts," Optimus pointed out. "And we apprehended the last of Starscream's clones in the process, so that's something. Let's get the clones back to base and let Cybertron know they can send a transport by to pick them up. We'll undo Swoop's cuffs before we leave."
"Uh, Prime, no offense, but… you got a death wish?" Bumblebee looked nervously at the Dinobot, who curled his lip and gave an irritated hiss at him.
"If the Dinobots want to stay on the island, we'll let them," Optimus replied. "That includes Swoop." He gave Swoop a long look, then recoiled as he hissed again and took a snap at his foot. "Though maybe we'd better loosen the cuffs and make sure we're a safe distance away before he works himself loose."
"Good plan, boss-bot," Bumblebee replied. "Let's get home."
"Yes, let's," Ratchet replied. "Because I just got a communique from Iacon. Prowl's online, and he wants to talk to us."
"I never thought I'd be saying this," Prowl noted, "but I miss the entire team. Even you, Bumblebee."
"Aww, didn't know you cared, ninja-bot," Bumblebee laughed.
Optimus couldn't keep the grin off his faceplate as he, Ratchet, Bulkhead, and Bumblebee gathered around the viewscreen to address their friend. Prowl was only visible from the shoulders up, lying on a medical berth that had been inclined to a sitting-up position. His armor still looked slightly grayed-out, as if he'd been left to fade in the sun for too long, and his voice sounded weaker and frailer than normal. And during the pauses in his side of the conversation they could hear the beeping and humming of medical machinery and the occasional bit of chatter from the medics and nurses on duty.
Prowl was still recovering from his brush with the Well of All Sparks… but he was alive. Optimus couldn't ask for a bigger miracle than that.
"How are you feeling?" he asked. "Any pain?"
"None, surprisingly," Prowl replied. "I still tire easily, but Pharma says that should pass with time."
"You don't have to drink that gross medicated energon they always have in hospitals, do you?" Bulkhead asked, grimacing.
Prowl chuckled softly. "If the choice is between falling back offline and drinking the medicated energon, I'm taking the energon," he replied. "But thank you for worrying about me."
"Have they figured out just how you managed to cheat death a second time?" Ratchet demanded. "First time was Sari's key, but THIS time… I don't even have a proper explanation. Though if there IS one, Perceptor's the best one to figure it out."
"They don't have a definite answer yet," Prowl admitted. "Perceptor thinks it could have been Master Yoketron's armor - it was designed by a master of processor over matter, and may have special safeguards built in to keep a spark online under circumstances that should be fatal."
Optimus frowned, reading the skepticism in Prowl's tone. "You don't think that's the right explanation, though."
Prowl shook his head. "I… I heard something when I fell offline that final time, before waking up on Cybertron. A voice that told me that my time hadn't come yet. First Aid tells me it must have been a hallucination, but… I think it was the Allspark itself."
Ratchet snorted, but Optimus only nodded in reply. They still didn't understand much about the Allspark, despite it being what gave so many Cybertronians life… and there were plenty of mechs out there who believed the artifact was sentient and capable of communication. If Prowl believed the Allspark had spoken to him and saved him from sure death, he was inclined to believe his words.
"You missed a killer fight down here," Bumblebee pointed out. "We caught us some Starscream clones! And a Dinobot too! Though Prime made us let him go… but still, it was awesome!"
"Yeah, awesome that you got stuck and Prime had to save our butts," Bulkhead pointed out.
"Hey, I'm the one telling the story here!" Bumblebee snapped.
Prowl gave a tired chuckle. "It sounds like a lot has been going on since I left. I'm sorry I couldn't be there to help you."
"You just focus on getting better, Prowl," Optimus advised. "There'll still be plenty to do here when you come back."
Prowl nodded. "I need to go here. First Aid is giving me that look, which means I've been sitting up for too long. Hopefully I'll be strong enough to talk more later."
"You take care of yourself," Ratched ordered, then raised his voice. "An' all you medics listening in on this make sure he RESTS! Even if you have to sit on him to do it!"
Someone offscreen laughed, and Prowl gave a little sigh and a smile as the screen went dark.
"Man, he MUST still not feel great if he doesn't comment on how obnoxious I am," Bumblebee noted.
"Or he just misses us," Ratchet replied. "You don't realize how much you miss someone, even their more annoying traits, until they're gone." He looked wistful a moment, but the expression vanished as the viewscreen flickered back to life. "Huh… somethin' he forgot to say?"
"Hey Prowl, you're back alread-" began Bulkhead, only to yelp as a far different visage materialized. The mech onscreen stared at him, mouth open with surprise, before resuming his usual stern expression.
Optimus felt his spark lurch in its chamber, and he forced himself to suppress a flood of emotion - shock, dread, even a spurt of anger - as he saluted the screen. "Ultra Magnus, sir."
The Magnus inclined his head. "At ease, Optimus Prime. This is not a disciplinary call."
Optimus lowered his hand, though he couldn't shake the dread that clutched at his spark. Ultra Magnus looked somewhat worse for wear than the last time he'd stood before him - his armor still bore a few dents and scrapes, and a metallic patch had been fastened over his left optic. But given what he'd heard about the Magnus' condition after Longarm Prime - or rather, Shockwave - had worked him over, it was a miracle of medical and repair work that he looked THIS good. Naturally, he refrained from saying that out loud.
Ultra Magnus gazed long and hard at the four Autobots, until Bulkhead started squirming where he stood and Bumblebee ducked behind a stack of crates to stay out of view. Then, to Optimus' utter shock, the Magnus smiled.
"Jazz and the Council have updated me on everything that happened while I was in medical stasis," he went on, his voice warming by a degree. "It appears, Optimus Prime, that I was wrong about you. Perhaps being a hero is in your programming after all. Well done."
The dread and anger drained away, and Optimus allowed himself a smile in return. "I only did what was necessary to protect Earth and Cybertron, sir. Anyone else would have done the same thing."
"Not everyone, Optimus," Magnus replied. "What you did took the sort of courage that we rarely see among even the upper ranks of the Autobots. In fact… in light of your actions, I think you're long overdue for a promotion."
Optimus felt a thrill pass through his frame. Was he saying…
"Optimus Prime, I would like to officially promote you to the Elite Guard." He seemed to read the shock on Optimus' faceplate, and he chuckled softly. "I know, I know, you were expelled from the Academy… but I think we can overlook the past in this instance. If you return to Cybertron at once, we will make the promotion official and assign a new leader to your team."
Optimus frowned, his joy at finally earning his place among the Guard dampened by the Magnus' words. "With all due respect, Ultra Magnus… I won't accept the promotion unless my entire team is promoted alongside me."
"What?!" Bumblebee squawked. "Did you slip a cog, Prime? What are you-"
Optimus raised a hand to silence the yellow warrior. "I appreciate the generous offer," he went on, "but these mechs have fought alongside me for a long time. I wouldn't be where I am now without them, and it would be an insult to their courage and abilities to leave them behind to make a name for myself. If you make me an Elite Guard, make all of them Elite Guards along with me… or let us continue our work as space bridge technicians."
Ultra Magnus shuttered his optic briefly, the only sign that Optimus' words might have stunned or upset him. "Very well," he replied, voice even. "We can discuss this when you next return to Cybertron. We'll be sending Rodimus Prime and his team to help you find the remaining Allspark fragments and any Decepticon fugitives who may still be at large."
"The help would be appreciated, sir," Optimus replied.
"And Ratchet… I would appreciate it if you bring my hammer back at your earliest convenience."
"Yessir," Ratchet replied, saluting.
The screen darkened again… and Bumblebee took that as his opportunity to lay into his leader.
"Are you nuts, Prime?" he demanded. "You got handed the Elite Guard sigil and you just turned it down!"
"I meant what I said," Optimus replied. "All of you played a part in taking down Megatron and his minions. You deserve the promotion just as much as me, if not more. If they refuse to make a place for you in the Elite Guard as well, then I refuse to be promoted."
"Prime, don't be stupid!" Ratchet snapped. "This is the chance of a lifetime! And the Elite Guard needs mechs like you! Not old fogeys or space bridge technicians! No offense, Bulkhead."
"None taken," Bulkhead replied. "Prime… are you serious? You want us to be in the Elite Guard with you?"
Optimus smiled. "We've been together for a long time, my friends. I can't think of anyone else I'd rather have at my side in a tight spot. And if staying a team means I turn down the promotion, then so be it."
Ratchet sighed and shook his head. "Young fools." Then he gave a rueful chuckle and patted Prime's arm. "It's been an honor serving alongside you, Prime. You're a good mech, and quite frankly, the Elite Guard could use a hundred mechs just like you."
"Oh, come on, Ratchet," Optimus muttered, his faceplates blazing with heat. "Okay, Autobots, enough standing around running our vocalizers. We still have a base to pack up."
Sentinel Prime had never imagined that he would come back here. When he had finally received his adult upgrade and left for the Academy, he had sworn he would never return to the place he had reluctantly called home for most of his sparkling years. And yet here he was, standing before the doors and trying to gather up the courage to enter the building. Fate seemed to have a sick sense of humor.
It wasn't that the Iacon Home for Wayward Sparklings had been a miserable place to grow up. Indeed, the femme who ran the establishment, a bulky brown-and-green femme named Digger, had looked fearsome but been a warm and nurturing bot at spark, and she took good care of her charges. And Sentinel had made close friendships here, friendships that had carried over to the Academy itself. But even the best memories of this place stuck in his craw, and the knowledge that he'd had such lowly beginnings made him recoil instinctively.
"Are we to be going in, Sentinel sir, or staring at the door some more?" asked Jetfire.
Sentinel turned to glare at the orange flier. "Are you going to follow orders, or ask more stupid questions?"
"It is not being a stupid question," Jetstorm pointed out. "We have been staring at the door for half a breem now. It is not being very interesting."
Sentinel rolled his optics. "Why Perceptor didn't think to program you two with a few more processor chips as well as flight capabilities, I'll never know." He raised a fist, ready to knock on the door…
Only for the door to slide open before he could so much as tap it. A towering, broad-shouldered femme stared down at him, the treads on her legs and the bladed shovel on her shoulders marking her alt mode of a bulldozer, a slitted mask obscuring most of her face. She stared down at Sentinel with the glower of a bot who brooked no nonsense from anyone she came across.
"The sign on the door says no soliciting," she informed him. "Unless you're the Cyber Scouts selling grease cookies."
"I'm here on official Elite Guard business, ma'am," Sentinel replied, drawing his shoulders back and raising his chin to best display the crest on his chestplate. "I need access to your information databases."
Digger stared at his chest. Then her gaze moved up to his face… and her optics lit up with a smile.
"Sentinel!" she cooed. "It's been ages! Look at you, all grown up now!" And to his intense embarrassment, she flung her arms around him in a crushing hug.
"Oof!" Sentinel squirmed, trying to writhe out of her grip. Back in his sparkling days Digger's hugs had been the best thing in the universe, especially to a frightened child who was still recovering from the shock of losing his parents. Now the embrace was utterly humiliating… especially in front of his subordinates.
"Oooh, are we getting hugs now?" Jetstorm squealed. "I am wanting hugs too!"
"Me too!" Jetfire exclaimed.
Digger laughed and set Sentinel back down. "If you fellas want hugs, I won't say no." She swept the twins up in her arms. "Are these your boys? They're fine strapping bots."
"No," Sentinel replied shortly. "I'm here on business, Digger. I need to see your archives, specifically the spark-scans of your incoming sparklings."
Digger laughed softly. "All business, I see. That's all right - we can always catch up later." She motioned for him to follow her. "This way. Mind the little ones, classes just ended and they're enjoying some free time before their evening refuel."
Sentinel followed her, the Jettwins trailing behind. He kept his gaze firmly ahead - letting his gaze wander about, taking in the hallways and the familiar doorways to classrooms and dormitories and washracks, only brought back a flood of memories he'd rather not dwell on too much. Yes, he had happy memories of this place - Digger's comforting presence, favorite teachers, his friendship with Elita and Optimus that had held strong until that fateful mission to the organic world where everything had changed forever…
But those memories just got in the way of what was important - finding Megatron's sparkling, and ensuring they could no longer endanger Cybertron. And standing around wallowing in old memories wouldn't help him with that mission. He would just go in, get the information he needed, and leave. Not stick around and dwell on the past.
Besides, this was only his first stop in a long list of foundling homes, orphanages, and similar facilities. The odds of him finding Megatron's spawn here were slim to non-existent. All the more reason to spend as little time here as possible.