Disclaimer: I do not own Transformers. Just the plot and OCs.

Enjoy.

Chapter 22

Saying Bumblebee has had a lot of, well, rather stupid ideas in his time is not anything but an understatement.

There were plenty of examples of said concept too. Many more then Bee would like to sit down and add all up, that's for sure. Currently, a few were running through his mind though.

You know, because he obviously needed a reminder of how stupid he could be at times.

Like now.

There was that time after he had just gotten his doorwings when he decided that they worked the same as flier's wings and threw himself off Prowl's filing cabinet. Then that time after he got his alt mode he decided it was a good idea to steal Wheeljack's current play project and point it at Sunstreaker. Then that time right after that when he decided not running from a dripping in lime green goo covered Sunstreaker was a good idea. Also that time real recently when he decided sneaking off the ship and getting hopelessly lost in the desert to prove he wasn't helpless was a good idea.

Yeah . . . all those.

Great proof of his skills at troubleshooting and problem solving right there.

This current plan though—the one where he was sneaking not away from Lockdown, but towards him—made all the others look like they were running in slow motion down the slope of bad decisions. Because this one was completely insane.

And it might just work.

Maybe.

If Bee played his cards right. And he got ridiculously lucky.

He was playing a dangerous game. He knew it, but the only way he knew how to steal enough time for Rider, Hammer, and Smokey to get here was to . . . well through a giant wrench in those slowly cycling engines floors below his feet.

He could hear them now, hunkered down beside a locked doorway on one of this gross ship's upper levels. The slowly building pulses of drives that had now slowed down to normal speeds. They had cooled from the astrosphere burn of before.

That meant they could heat back up.

He was running out of time.

Enough so that he didn't dare to try and sneak his way back down to the drives and try to through said giant wrench into anything. You know, if he didn't get caught and shot on the way there.

After looking through those security monitors Bee wasn't too sure he could pull that off.

So, instead, he was picking a door lock.

"Okay," He whispered to himself, trying to ignore the frantic beating of his spark in his audios. "You can do this. You know how to do this. Jazz has showed you a thousand times. It's easy."

Carefully prying at the paneling near the bottom of the lock, Bee slipped his fingers along the lifted edge. Looking for a catch of wiring he was praying would be there. Jazz said that almost all standard locks had it. That safety feature most didn't think could be a weakness. A simple kill switch programmed within to protect the ship in case of fire.

The same switch that trigger blast doors.

The one that could be inverted with the right amount of tweaking to open and close on a processor keying command.

Fingers blindly searching on the other side of the pried panel, Bee glanced over his shoulder. Checking the dark, damp, creaking halls behind him. Breathing just a bit easier when he reached out with his spark and still couldn't feel anybot coming toward him.

Suddenly, his fingers stumbled over a bundle of harder, courser wires and his optics lit up.

There!

Throwing his attention forward once more, he crouched down lower. Yanking harder, hoping the crunch of weak metal that followed wasn't as loud as he thought it was, he had a handful of ugly grey wires and an access point.

He grinned. "Hello you beautiful thing you."

Pulling it down further, he scooted as close to the wall as he could manage. Another quick look. Bright blue optics darting around the dripping dark corners looking for spooks that might or might not be there. Then, with a deep breath, he looked back to the cluster of wires in his hand while darting the other hand down to a sensitive, hidden panel just under the right side of his chest.

Pressing his slightly shaking hands hard enough the softer panel, he rerouted the errors and pop ups that argued the actions. Dismissing the warnings and slamming shut the safety protocols until the panel popped despite all the things in his frame telling it not too.

Folding away with a pressuring hiss his syncing hardware was bared.

He shivered against the feeling of the cold, wet air rushing at protoform and equipment that had never been exposed outside Ratchet's medical bay and Jazz's office lessons before. He was old enough now that the hardware and software functioned, but he'd never used it in a real situation before.

The fear curling in the bottom of his tanks, beating with the pulse of his spark, made the glaring weakness of the exposed cabling feel wrong. Jazz had told him it would though. All those lessons sitting quietly next to the silver mech, listening and soaking in all that he could. Jazz told him using syncing equipment for the purpose Jazz has mastered went against a frames natural reactions.

The hardware wasn't designed for the purpose their race had turned it into. Form an evolutionary point of view it was designed for medical purpose. For personal relationships. A direct line to a processor, with all the dangers that came with such a thing if not handled correctly.

It was not made to hack into systems, both sentient and not. To rip, and tear, and strip. To be turned into a weapon by a mind quick and clever enough to not get yanked apart in the processes. But it left traces of harm behind all the same. Even to one that could do this well.

Bee couldn't do this well.

He only had a vague idea of what he was even supposed to try to do. Jazz's metaphorical lessons he was never supposed to mention to anybot else. Because for all of Jazz's skill and practice he had never been willing to physically show Bee with his own syncing software. He'd been too afraid of hurting him. Or of Bee hurting himself in trying to do what Jazz showed him. He said Bee was still a bit too young. That they would take the lessons further when they were no longer hidden from everybot else.

Meaning, when Jazz braved Ratchet and Hide's temper in asking for permission to teach Bee something in the long terms caused a good deal of processor problems and in the short term ran the risk of completely wiping out his mind.

Yeah.

No big deal.

Right now though, Bee was silently thanking every rule Jazz ever dared break. Because it was the thing Bee could think of that might possibly stall Lockdown long enough and not get Bee shot full of plasma holes in the process.

No matter how scared he was to reach his trembling fingers down for that thin, smooth syncing cable to sync up with the cluster of wires in his hands.

Sucking in a deep breath, he clamped down as hard as he could on the fear boiling in his spark. Shoving it down as far into his tanks as he could make it go. Deep enough that even though it still made him feel sick it wasn't pounding so hard in his helm. Left him able to think.

He didn't have time for panic.

He didn't have time to think.

He only had time to do.

So do was just what he would have to be able to do.

Clenching his jaw, he wrapped still shaking fingers around the smooth, thin, bendy yellow syncing cable wrapped safely and snugly alone side his syncing ports. Tugging at the cable until he had enough line to work with. Balancing it and the cluster of wires for a long moment. Simply staring at the access port and his pronged cable until with a deep breath he jacked in.

Then, there was nothing but a hard, cold burn.

A burning wave of data that nearly knocked him flat on his aft.

Overwhelming, swelling, crashing, slamming through his thoughts and feeling until he couldn't tell which was up and which was down. Until he couldn't tell his own coding from the programming of almost every door on this whole damn ship.

It ached.

He crashed to his knees. Optics blown wide but seeing nothing of the dark wet floor below him. His audios screamed with a binary wail of data streaking through his conscious. Blocking out everything else until it was crushing in on his processing core. Slamming against his firewalls so hard and fast that half of them crumbled to nothing.

Taking.

Sweeping.

Whipping everything the data came across faster than Bee could snatch for it.

Somewhere, in the deepest part of his processing core he realized what it was. A hacking virus.

That damn bounty hunter put a fragging hacking virus on a stupid door lock.

Well.

Bee was screwed.

A high pitched screech left him, though he had no knowledge of it. His frame crumbling to the floor in a spasm of limbs and systems that no longer knew what or who they were. That were no longer obeying him. That no longer knew how because a damn virus was eating its way through his processor like a pack of scraplets.

It hurt.

It hurt, hurt, hurt, hurt, hurt, hurt!

Deep in his chest, his spark flared. A boiling hot, angry swell that crashed through the wall he had put there. A burning bright light that slammed back into the fires the virus was burning through his systems. An echoing voice he knew all too well filling his mind. Blocking out the high screech of data.

"No, Young Spark. Not like this."

Bee shook against the floor. Optics blown wide, coolant tears slipping down his cheeks. However, his breath caught, vents suddenly trying to obey again. The core of his processor, shivering in the middle of a fire storm raging around it, turned to take notice.

Not able to even form works at this point. Too broken up and confused, but a questioning whine it could do. Pleading with the bright, golden light pouring in from all around. Pleading for what it didn't know anymore, but pleading all the same.

Help, help, help, help please!

"You are stronger then this." That familiar voice growled. "You are stronger then you know. Who are you? Stop this! Fight!"

Help! Please!

"WHO ARE YOU!?"

Me . . . me . . . Bee . . . .

"Bee," The word grasped out his vocal processor, spilling out over the binary wailing.

Bumblebee. His fists clenched, his optics squeezed shut, his vents kicked hard, and his firewalls shoved back out. Slamming against the virus fire spreading through his mind.

Bumblebee. His optics snapped back open, vents heaving, frame shaking but going still. Staring blankly at the wet puddle of what looked like purge in front of him. My name is Bumblebee.

"What are you?" The voice pressed on. Wrapping around his core and pushing with him. Helping his firewalls fight back. Crashing at the edges of retreating burning fire.

I'm . . . I'm . . . Hide's and Mia's. Something in his chest settled, his fingers clenched and unclenched.

"What else are you?"

An Autobot. The fire fell back through another layer of firewalls. The rising deference beating at it. The bright golden light going with it. Rising cooling feeling over the trails of aching coding it left behind.

"What else?"

I'm . . . a solider.

"Yes," The voice purred, sounding proud. "Yes, you are now. Now. Get up and fight!"

His fists slammed into the metal floor below him. A hacking cough rattling through him as he rolled himself up right. Whole frame shaking and shivering, optics hazy and half unseeing but coming back fast. Processor chasing at the tails of the last of the fire like a pack of angry hounds.

Snapping at its heels, driving it back the way it came. Perusing it past the point it had come.

And he breathed.

Feeling returning to his limbs and to his insides. Control and understanding of what was what and what was who.

His breaths heaved, he shook on his hands and knees, staring at the nasty puddle of purge below him, still dripping from his lips.

Anger tightened in his chest. His optics narrowed. His fists clenched.

His attention turned inward, staring internally down the cabling he had pushed the virus.

He gave chase.

He needed that buried code. He wasn't leaving without it.

He dove head first. Crashing, grasping, ripping, tearing. Digging past the cowering virus. Tearing it to pieces. Shredding its coding to nothing as something hurt and vindictive slipped to calm in his chest.

Then, there! Right there.

He snatched at the code, yanking it into himself and then running like pit. Trembling hands reaching up to yank his cable back out of the access point. Leaving the smoking wires dangling as he crashed backward on the slick floor.

There, he panted.

Aching in places inside that he didn't know he had. A quiet whimper leaving him while he slowly balled himself up. Knees pulled up, arms wrapped around them. He buried his head down and simply hung on.

Slowly getting a feel of . . . himself again.

Shivering as he his processor carefully worked through every gear, every wire, every string of stinging code.

These are my toes. These are my wings. This is my spark. This is my plasma reserve. These are my tanks.

This is me.

This is me!

I'm me.

"I'm Bee." He whispered into his knees, shivering rattling his plating. "I'm Bee. I'm Bee. I'm me."

"Yes," His antennas perked up, attention shifting inward to the calm part of his spark he had walled up before, but now set open once more. Where that warm golden light glowed in pleasant pride. "Yes, you are, and who am I?"

"Star." Bee muttered, confused and scared but suddenly not of his foreign-familiar voice. Not anymore.

A please hum rumbled through his spark. One that he didn't make.

"Thank you." He whispered, doorwings plastered against back and voice scratchy.

"You are welcome."

Still shivering, the small yellow youngling glanced up at the smoking wiring dangling from the door lock. His fingers clenched against his knees.

"How about I never do that again?"

"Probably wise. There is still much for you to learn. But your bravery, I commend."

"Can you commend bravery?" Bee snorted, blinking down at his own chest. "You're a voice in my head."

"No. I am a voice in your spark."

"There is a difference?"

"Very much so."

Bee snickered, still feeling off balance and more then a little insane, but there sitting in his pull up commands was the coding for the doors. He did it.

He actually did it.

He almost didn't believe it.

The aching inside made it pretty easy to accept the fact though.

"Well," He sighed, wondering how much effort it was going to take to get up off his aft and get back to this brilliantly stupid plan of his. "Next stop, musical doors."

Granted, if Bee had any sense he just so epically proved he was born without, he probably would have hunkered down in a hole somewhere and wreaked havoc on Lockdown's ship from a place he couldn't be reached.

He did have a sort of plan for that.

He was mostly sure it would work.

He just had to work his way back down to that monitor room. Most of the doors he might have control of, but that didn't mean he was sure which ones were which. He needed to be able to see them. The best place for that to be doable was that room full of computers.

If he was lucky the bot he had heard down there would be gone. If he wasn't . . . well the weight of the dagger Sides gave him was a comforting feeling in his subspace. He had used it once. He could use it again.

He would ignore the sick feeling in his tanks at the thought as well.

Star had gone quiet once again. Seemingly content that Bee hadn't walled him back up once he got good enough control of his systems.

Considering he was pretty sure his odd little voice in his spark was the only reason he wasn't dead on the floor with a burned out processor, he didn't have any plans on walling him back up any time soon. And for now, he didn't have time to wonder any more about his weird little voice.

Maybe when this was all over Dust would actually get to answer that question he asked. First though, they were going to have to get out of here alive. For that to happen, Bee needed to get moving.

Not stand here in the cross section of a hall that split between the level his family was caged on and the one that held the monitor room.

His spark quivered in his chest. Still scared from what had happened with the hacking. Every instinct inside of him demanding that he seek out his sire. He wanted to be held. He wanted to feel safe.

He wanted the aching in his head to go away.

He knew better.

He knew it wouldn't help. He knew it was likely going to end badly.

But he still felt the left over pain seeping from Dustoff and Wardrums. He could still feel his family poking at his over his bond. Aware that he was alive, but worried about him. He didn't realize he'd shut off his bonds during that hack.

Or, more accurately, that Star had.

Bee knew better.

He knew he was running out of time if the pulsing he could feel through the floor meant anything. And yet, he swallowed his quivering reasons and snuck down toward the cells all the same.

Ironhide stood with his arms braced against the wall between his cell and Prime's. Head lowered, optics closed, focus trained on the warm flicker of Bumblebee at the other end of his bond. The little mech had closed up on him a little while ago.

Little fragger.

Blocking himself off from all of them if the way they all tensed up, went quiet, and waited was anything to go by. Not long, but long enough to send them all into a rapidly building panic. Then, suddenly, he was there again. Feeling weird and hazy down the end of the bonds, but there.

Attention so off onto whatever the frag he was doing that he didn't notice how much they were all pulling at him. Or at least, was pretending not to notice.

Ironhide was pretty sure at this point that his youngling was on the ship. He had to be at this rate with how near he felt. The massive ebony mech didn't know he was relieved or terrified by this concept.

He was on this bastard hunter's ship. Hiding somewhere. Likely planning something that was going to hurt him while he tried to figure out a way to get them all off.

Hide knew his youngling that well.

Just as he knew the little mech already figured out calling for help from Mia or any of the others they left behind though his comms or bonds wasn't going to work. The comms because Lockdown would track him in a nano on this ship. The bonds because they were now too far away.

That left a desperate little mechling, hiding and alone on a bounty hunter's ship with very few options.

And every single one of the mechs standing around in these damn cells staring at each other, waiting, knew it too.

The last thing he expected was for that tiny ball of yellow to do was drop down from the ceiling and land with a thud in front of his cell though.

Ironhide startled.

Stumbling back from the wall he was hanging his head against. Twisting around with a jerk that his aching cannon did not appreciate the same time the twins bolted up right, Jazz twisted around, Ratchet stumble up, Optimus surged to the front of his cell, Wardrums looked up from his knees, and Dustoff blinked open his optics again.

All of them staring in almost disbelief at the little yellow mech shoving himself up right there between Hide and Jazz's cells. Twisting this way and that as he looked them all over, bright optics a little frantic and doorwings pinned behind his back. But his antennas were up. Flickering to match the way he darted his gaze around before he finally twisted himself to a stop. Blinking up at Ironhide through the pulsing energy bars of his cage and a weary smile pulled up his lips.

"Hey Hide."

Ironhide surged to the bars before he even had time to think about it. Stopping just sort of burning himself on them, he wedged one thick arm through as well as he could. Cupping his large hand around the back of that small round head and yanking him forward.

Not close enough to risk the bars but close enough Ironhide could reach him with his field. Shoving it out to mesh against the tired tinge of his son's. Wrapping around him while he flared at the bond. Sending both forms of reassurance, checking, fear, exasperation, pride at him while he rubbed a thumb under those big baby blue optics.

For a moment, all he could see was a tiny yellow ball that once fit in the palm of his hand. With big, trusting optics and an open spark that burned brighter than anything else.

When the old black mech blinked the vison was gone. Leaving behind a tired youngling that didn't belong in this dark, damp place. Though he stood firm all the same. Too soft plating pulled tight to his protoform, and too bright optics dimmed against the dark of the cell block.

He was dimmed in the face of unknowing and fear, but he wasn't counted out. No, not Bee. Bee still burned brighter.

He was Hide's sparkling.

He wouldn't quit without a fight.

No matter how often that scared Ironhide's old spark more than it could take. This mechling would be the death of him one orn, and Hide would have it no other way.

"What the pit do you think you're doing, Bee?" His voice was rougher then he would have liked. Gravely and stressed, but Bumblebee simply smirked in the face of his rolling emotions. Poking back at the frantic pulling of his bond and field with a quick wash of I'm okay, I'm here, I'm fine, see I'm here.

Ironhide didn't even bother to hide the fact that he desperately needed it.

"What should I have done?" Bee huffed at him, looking amused and scared all at the same time. "Stayed in the sand and hid while he took you mechs away?"

Yes. Ironhide wanted to shout it. He wanted to shake the little mech until he ran and hid again. He shouldn't be here. He couldn't be here. Not on a bounty hunter's ship. Not this bounty hunter. Not somebot that could bring a mech like Wardrums to his knees. Not a mech that was hunting Optimus. Not a mech that would look at this tiny yellow ball of brightness and see only the credits it could make him.

Both dead and alive.

Ironhide didn't know which one he feared more. That Lockdown would kill him, or that he'd sell him if he got his hands on him.

"You shouldn't be sneaking around here." Sunstreaker hissed, his own voice an odd mix of relief and fear as he and his brother crowded the bars of their cell. Looking down the block at the little mech standing there.

Bumblebee turned enough in Hide's grip to look back at them. Not enough to shake off the big black mech's grip—not that Hide could let him go at the moment—but enough to frown rather epically at the pair of brothers staring at him.

"And what, let him sell you all who the pit knows where!? What was I supposed to do!?"

Not get yourself killed on this damn ship trying to save us. Don't you see, little one, we'd die for you. We'd never even think about it. You're not supposed to do it for us though.

The thought rolled through all of them—well maybe not War and Dust, Hide didn't know about them—but none of them said it.

Then, suddenly, Jazz growled.

Ironhide tensed.

Optics darting up expecting to find a large frame prowling at either end of the cell block. Nothing was there though. And when that dark blue gaze snapped back down to the shorter silver mech to find that blue visor locked on Bee.

Confused, Ironhide was about the snap about the saboteur's frankly awful timing when Bee wilted out of his hand. Before Jazz even hissed out.

"Get over here."

For a moment, Bee hovered. Looking like all he wanted to do was bolt back to whatever place he had been hiding. However, after a tense nano, he sank out of Hide's hold and drug his feet over to Jazz.

The much leaner silver mech had an easier time reaching through the bars. Longs, sharp claws grasping hold of thin yellow plating and pulling him closer. Close enough that the energy emanating off the bars crackled against his field.

Bee paid it no mind through. Focusing instead on the sharp glow of blue optics pinning him behind that narrow blue visor. It was those sharp claws catching at the underside of his chest that made him bite back a yelp. His optics snapping down to find a faint black scorch mark around the sensitive plating down to the protoform that was hidden underneath.

Oh.

Well.

Maybe that burn had been in more than his mind.

Blinking at it he tried not to shiver at the ache the slight touch brought before Jazz pulled back with a low rumbling snarl. Hissing quietly in the air between them.

"What did you do?"

Bee gulped, trying to pretend he couldn't feel the optics burning into his back.

"I . . . uh . . ." Ducking his helm, he slipped a bit further out of Jazz's grip. Those claws tightened, not letting him escape.

"Bumblebee." The saboteur snarled.

"What you showed me how to." He muttered, feeling as well as seeing the moment Jazz realized. His claws yanking away from the mechling as he stepped back a pace in his cell.

Then, he snapped. "I told you not to do that. You aren't ready yet."

"Well I did do it. And I'm fine!"

Mostly.

Besides the whole sucking in a virus and almost getting my processor whipped. Which would have happened if not for the whole freaking voice in my spark thing.

Yeah.

Just fine.

Jazz snarled at him again, but it was Optimus' deep rumble that had him spinning around. Allowing other dark blue gazes to take in the scorch along his plating.

"Where did you get that?" The Prime bit with such buried anger that Bee sank back, antennas pinning back into their slots.

"I uh . . . sorta . . . hacked the ship."

Silence.

Then, Ironhide's cannons cycled along with his growling engine.

"I'm gonna fraggin' murder you, Jazz."

Oddly enough, War started laughing.

And Ratchet exploded.

"YOU DID WHAT!?"

Bee ducked his head.

"WHAT!? YOU HACKED—what—how—when—what the frag!?"

"Jazz showed me."

"I DIDN'T TELL YA TO USE IT!" The silver mech shouted.

"You showed him and didn't think he'd do it!?" Ironhide screamed.

"Who the pit told you, you could teach him hacking!?" Optimus snarled.

Then, a plasma shot went off.

Booming, hissing, whizzing through the air.

Bee's doorwings flared, his antennas stiffened, and he fell backward in a scrambling heap just in time to watch a burning blue shot fly by his face.

Hitting the ground with a bang, he twisted before he hardly knew he was doing it. Back up on his knees, poised to spring which every way he had to. Vorns of Jazz's, and the twins', and Mia's, and Hide's words swirling into his mind. Moving muscle cabling and reaching for the knife hidden in his subspace without conscious thought. Energy field still burning from the shot that had torn though it.

When his optics snapped up to find what had caused it though, he froze. And suddenly, their whole building shouting match came crashing down when a chorus of feral growls echoed up from the end of the cell block.

Bumblebee's doorwings flared up ridged behind his back from where they had pinned in his fall. Whole frame locking tight with a hot surge of fear while every mech around him went silent.

Slowly, almost scared to look past the sound of building growls echoing down the hall, Bee glanced this way and that. Optics widening on the scene he found at the end. Six snarling canines. Two black hounds, three grey wire wolves, and one—holy pit!—white static hound with burning red optics. All chained and held back by the fist of one darkly sneering purple flier holding a smoking blaster.

"Well, well, well," The huge mech hissed in a reedy gasp. "Look what we have here. Seems the little mouse made it out of the hole. That's almost impressive, for a pretty little mouse."

Something in Bee's tanks clenched uneasily at the leer that curled up that pale black faceplate. His protoform feeling sticky and cold at the off orange optics tracing him.

Wrong. His spark clenched, confused at why every fiber in him screamed run. Not from the hounds, and not from the gun, but from that look.

The hounds barked, the wolves snarling, the white one glaring down a long pointed snout. Those fire optics blazing as they set in on him. Predatory intent in the surging they did against the chains holding them back.

These canines were use to kill bots. Used to eat them.

Bee didn't need to reach out and see that that was what that hungry pack wanted. It was written all over those snapping fangs and lolling tongues. What was written in that mech's orange optics rang even scarier though.

"Poor little mouse, all alone in the dark. Can the mouse run? I'd like to see him run."

The fist holding back those tight chains loosened.

"How about it, mouse? Lets see how fast you can run."

The chain fell, the pack surged, and the blaster lifted.

"Run, Young Spark. Run. Now!"

Yeah, didn't need to tell him twice.

Bee bolted.

The sounds of his snarling family left behind as he twisted and broke for the hall. Scrambling up and back the way he had come as a pack of snarling canines snapped at his heels. Laughing mech ringing up an alarm that blared through the ship over the sound of that distorted reedy laugh.

Well, he had been trying to get Lockdown's attention.

Guess this works. He laughed a little hysterically to himself. Breath too high and short in his chest as he ran as fast as he could for the stairs.

"Yes," Star snarked. "You've got a mad pack and a pervert on your heels on an egotistical bounty hunter's ship. Well done. Now run before they catch you!"

I am, I am!

He hit the stairs at a tumbling sprint. The hard snap of jaws crashing down just where he had been as a blaster shot burned by over his helm.

Oh yeah.

This was a great plan.

Running for his life, he keyed up the commands for the ship doors he had stolen. Randomly starting to ping them open and lock them closed as he waded through the strings. Just as, over the ship speakers, a snarling voice hissed.

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN THE YOUNGLINGS ON MY SHIP!?"

Yep. Wonderful plan.

Little mech really does need to get better with his planning skills.

-Jaycee