Chapter Seven
As the officers gathered into the meeting room, none of them noticed a pair of optics watching from above.
The young spy perched on a beam above their helms, listening in.
As Mirage walked in, the spy froze, pressing further into his corner, hoping that his superior didn't look up.
Or sense him there.
He had on other occasions, but not usually.
Steeldust wasn't sure that Mirage really cared anyways. He figured the head ops considered it a second pair of optics and audios present.
Soon enough, all the chain of command was present and Optimus Prime straightened in his chair to begin.
"Thank you all for coming this evening," he rumbled. He glanced to his right. "Prowl, start the reports."
Ultra Magnus shot the current second-in-command a jealous glare from across the table, but turned away before the Prime could catch it.
Steeldust was certain he seen the Praxian smirk before he began speaking.
"As you know, my lord, myself and your third-in-command run a very strict schedule. Most of your troops are willing to accept our rules and obey them. The few who do not are punished accordingly."
Up on the beam, Steeldust fidgeted.
"Were there any offences since the last meeting?" Optimus inquired, placing folded hands on the table as he leaned over to glance at Prowl's datapad.
The Praxian nodded once and turned the datapad towards him.
"Yes. Two accounts of misconduct that included racing in the base by Hot Rod, Streetwise, and Bumblebee.
"Sunstreaker was involved in five brawls, two being bar fights and the other three were in the halls. Cliffjumper was involved in all five of them as well. Gears and Huffer were taken to the medbay as a result once while the other two visited the brig or were assigned cleanup duty each time.
"Steeldust was warned three times by various officers and you sentenced him to the brig three times. All for talking back I believe."
Steeldust made himself sit still and keep his mouth closed at that.
Ironhide spoke up then from further down the table.
"I got something to add to that."
Prowl simply nodded for him to go ahead.
"Didn't get a chance to report to ya about today's fight. Swerve was running his mouth and happened to be talking at the wrong time. Steeldust got involved and it resulted in a fight."
"I believe Swerve started that one though," Whirr said. "I was present for part of it, though I didn't see it all."
Ironhide glanced at the helicopter. "Yeah. Steeldust finished it though. With my permission."
Optimus nodded. "Smokescreen already informed me of this instance. Is that all Prowl?"
"Yes, my lord."
"Magnus. Do you have anything to add?"
"No," grumbled the large mech, sitting stiffly in his chair to the Prime's left. "I believe Prowl updated everyone last orn on the energon status and mine raids, so there's no need to go over that. Nothing has changed this orn."
"Agreed. He's very efficient," Prime said smoothly, eyeing his top two commanders. "Very well. Ratchet. The medical report please."
Steeldust tuned most of that one out.
Ratchet was a bit on the sadistic side, often 'bots were sent to him as punishment as well as for treatment of injuries.
Which could turn out badly too. Hot Rod had woken up from repairs once to see his hand had been replaced with a saw. According to Ratchet, it was an improvement.
The spy shivered. He was glad he, like several others, could do most minor repairs himself. And had the option of another trained professional to go to for the rest.
Although, technically the mech wasn't actually a medic. Just a scientist who knew a lot about many fields of science.
And probably wouldn't try and figure out how to improve you like Ratchet. Or enjoy dissecting you like the CMO's young trainee, First Aid.
As Steeldust tuned out Ratchet's report, he glanced around the rest of the room.
Several of the officers were doing the same as him. Others were listening, looking like they might be sick. Others didn't even blink.
One officer in particular, however, caught Steeldust's attention.
The head scientist, Whirr was sitting near the end of the long table. He had several sheets of blueprints in front of him, likely intending to present them when it was his turn.
What Steeldust could see of the blueprints looked like science gibberish to him.
But that wasn't what had caught his attention.
Whirr was slightly fidgety, tapping his digits lightly on the table. Every few kliks, his optics darted towards the large clock mounted on the wall above Ultra Magnus' helm.
Steeldust narrowed his optics. "Why would Whirr be concerned about the time?"
And the scientist was rarely ever fidgety. That was Steeldust.
Fidgety.
Sending a scowl at his own tapping digits, Steeldust stilled them, crossing his servos over his chest.
"Maybe Whirr has a timer for one of his formulas or something," he thought. "Hopefully nothing that could explode."
Although, bombs and explosions were usually more Wheeljack's gig. Or that Decepticon Vosian, Arson.
"I don't think that's it."
Steeldust moved his attention back to the meeting when they moved on to Red Alert's report.
It always amused him just how much Red missed because of all the camera blind spots.
Not to mention all the times that Mirage or one of his spec ops hacked and edited the camera feed.
Either for practice or necessary reasons.
Steeldust's optics flicked towards Mirage.
Either the head ops didn't know he was there or was pretending not to notice.
The younger spy figured he'd probably hear about it later if it was the latter.
Whirr kept looking at the clock.
Steeldust kept listening to the reports.
Soon enough, everyone had finished, including the scientist.
"Now," began the prime. "As you all know we have lost one of our elite seekers."
He paused and everyone bowed their helm a moment, either in a real or fake show of remembrance and grief.
"However, we must move past this tragedy. We must decide what to do, both how to take vengeance on our fallen seeker and to decide if we select a new member.
"That is why I have invited Sideswipe's former fellow seekers to join us at this point."
Wordlessly, Ironhide rose and stalked to the door, opening it and sticking his helm out. The twin bodyguards outside glanced at him but said nothing.
"Ya can come in now."
Smokescreen proudly strode in, taking an empty seat. Blurr followed, seating himself beside the lead seeker.
After Ironhide had shut the door and sat back down, the Prime continued.
"Smokescreen. Do you have anything you wish to say about your fallen comrade?"
Smokescreen straightened, frowning deeply as he looked down at the table. "Sideswipe was a good mech and a good comrade. I will sincerely miss him."
As the seeker continued, Steeldust thought he might be sick with all the obviously fake sorrow that he was spitting out.
"He doesn't care. Not really. He just wants to sound good."
"And you, Blurr?" Optimus droned, clearly hearing enough of Smokescreen.
Blurr was quiet for several kliks before speaking, gathering his thoughts.
"I didn't know Sideswipe as well as some, but I'd like to think we would consider each other friends. I will miss him as my friend and comrade; however, I cannot imagine the pain his brother is feeling."
At Blurr's words, Steeldust flinched. He knew he was imagining it, and thanks to him, so was Steeldust.
"Indeed, Blurr," Optimus said, eyeing the special operative. "And I imagine his brother would agree with anyone who decided to take vengeance."
"Of course, we both would join him," said Smokescreen, speaking for both remaining seekers. "As would others."
"I am sure," agreed the Prime. "The Decepticons will pay for what they have done.
"For now, we must decide whether to choose another member, Smokescreen."
Mirage spoke up. "From my observations, many of the seeker's maneuvers and plans work better with three."
"I agree," said Prowl. "The trine is more beneficial than simply two."
"Smokescreen, you are head seeker," the Prime spoke. "What is your opinion?"
"I believe Prowl and Mirage are right, my Lord." Smokescreen glanced at Blurr before continuing. "As much as we hate to replace Sideswipe so soon after his death, it would be better to avenge him with a whole trine.
"And the sooner we choose a new mecha, the sooner we can have them trained."
"Do you have any suggested candidates, Prowl or Magnus?" Optimus asked.
Prowl beat his rival, as usual to the hidden spy's amusement.
Whirr stopped staring at the clock long enough to listen.
"I believe either Sunstreaker, Bumblebee, Skyshadow, Hot Rod, or Cliffjumper would be valuable assets to the seekers," the second in command said, eyeing Ultra Magnus as he spoke. "However, some of them have other jobs and obligations already that may interfere."
"Wheeljack, Tracks, Bluestreak, Steeldust, and Streetwise may be good candidates as well," added Magnus quickly, glancing towards the war leader. "They have fewer other functions."
Optimus steepled his digits and narrowed his optics in thought.
"If I may, Sir?" Mirage questioned briskly; optic ridges furrowed.
"You may speak," muttered the Prime.
"The seekers already have one of my special operatives, Sir," Mirage said levelly. "Taking another member would potentially cripple my team."
"Well, Hot Rod or Wheeljack would be taking from the Wreckers," muttered Kup, glaring across the table at the former noble. "You have as many mecha as I do."
"That may be true," agreed the head spec ops, returning the glare. "However, my team is not composed of cannon fodder as yours often seems to be. We have actual differing skills and jobs."
"Why you little-" Kup snarled.
"Enough!" Optimus thundered, banging a fist on the table. "Stop squabbling like little sparklings."
Settling back into his chair, he continued, still glaring at the black ops team leaders.
"You have valid concern for your teams, but in this case, Mirage's argument is more worthy. Mirage, you may keep Steeldust and Skyshadow, we'll consider Bumblebee."
Steeldust noted Smokescreen looked a slight bit disappointed while Blurr was relieved.
Ultra Magnus spoke again.
"Skyshadow is both special ops and Lord Prime's assassin as well. It would be better for her to not gain another position to maintain. In addition, I suppose having two siblings among the seekers may be potentially detrimental in Steeldust's case."
"Bluestreak is needed as a sniper," Prowl countered. "And Streetwise is needed with the Protectobots. Tracks would not pay enough attention to the mission instead of himself."
"Agreed," hummed Optimus. "Steeldust would have a similar problem to Tracks, only he'd be mouthing off instead of focusing on his vanity."
Above them, a certain figure bristled.
"It would be fitting if Sunstreaker took his deceased brother's place," mused Prowl. "Cliffjumper and Wheeljack are both brutal, but also have the ability to adapt to an extent. Either may be a good potential fit."
Smokescreen nodded. "So, our choices are Bumblebee, Hot Rod, Cliffjumper, Sunstreaker, or Wheeljack then?"
"You two think about it and then we'll speak on the subject again." Optimus nodded to his second. "Prowl and I will discuss it further alone. Everyone else, dismissed."
As the rest got up and filed out of the room, Steeldust noted Whirr's hurried pace.
"Stay and listen to Prowl and the Prime or follow him?" he wondered.
Making a decision, Steeldust lifted a ceiling tile and slipped back into the passageway in the wall.
He'd so far avoided detection with a room full of 'bots, two special operatives included.
However. Everyone eventually got caught. It was sometimes wise to cut your losses and move out before you did.
The longer he stayed, the longer Praxian doorwings had time to pick up his presence.
Especially now since anything they picked up couldn't be blamed on one of the roomful of other mecha.
Besides, he knew he'd find out who they decided to be Sideswipe's replacement eventually anyways.
He just hoped he wasn't missing anything about what actually happened to the assumed dead 'bot. Or what was presumed to have happened.
Blades wasn't the sort of mech to poke his olfactory sensor in other mecha's business. But even if he was often thought of as just a big oaf with a lot of muscle and temper, he was a pretty perceptive guy.
So, when he bridged back Sunstreaker and Skyshadow after their patrol was finished, he pretended not to notice their thinly hidden distress.
Somehow, he knew it wasn't related to something they'd found on patrol. And it wasn't that they'd gotten into an argument. If it was, they'd either be demanding to speak with one of the chain of commands or not speaking to each other.
But Blades could almost smell the fear, worry, and tension on them as they walked out of the communications room. Skyshadow said a quick thanks and then they were gone as quickly as they'd come.
Something was wrong. If those two, two of the best warriors they had, ones who had the talent and ability to keep all of their emotions under control and invisible, were showing those emotions?
Blades frowned deeply at the now empty doorway where they'd vanished through. Then, he turned back to his monitor screens.
He wasn't the kind of mech to go poking around. But when something like what had just happened found him, he couldn't help but wonder.
Something wasn't right.
But it wasn't his business.
He turned his helm back to the hallway entrance, furrowing his optic ridges.
Or was it?
Whirr stepped through the groundbridge into the forest and listened.
Nothing but the croaking of tree frogs, the hoot of an owl, and the whisper of the breeze rustling the leaves met his audios.
Clicking a button on the remote control in his hand, the groundbridge disappeared, leaving him in the dark.
After waiting a few astrokliks for his optics to adjust, the helicopter scientist moved forward, trying to be as quiet as he could.
For not the first time in his life, he was thankful for his small stature as he moved in between the trees that would prohibit many of his comrades from moving easily through the forest.
Soon enough, he had reached the coordinates he had been sent and glanced around. The trees were a little sparser here and almost immediately, Whirr spied a familiar figure leaning against one of them.
"I was beginning to think you decided not to come," the mech said quietly.
Whirr dipped his helm in greeting, drawing nearer to the other mech as he did. "I apologize, friend. There was a meeting that went longer than expected. I couldn't leave without raising suspicion."
Iron Blade nodded and pushed off of the tree, closing the distance between them further.
"It is not a problem, Whirr. I was just concerned."
"Thank you for your concern, but I am fine."
The young Decepticon nodded once, then reached into his subspace. He then handed Whirr a small bag.
"Here. This is what you asked for?"
Whirr took the bag and peered inside. "Yes. That should work perfectly. Thank you."
The helicopter then reached in his own subspace and withdrew a set of blueprints. "And as promised, here's the plans I was working on for that weapon."
Iron Blade took the extended sheets of paper and examined them for several kliks.
Then, he rolled them back up and handed them back. "Thank you. We'll be sure to watch out for that when you finish it."
Whirr shoved the blueprints back towards the younger scientist. He took Iron Blade's hand and wrapped his digits around the papers.
"Take them," he said with a small, grim smile. "You may need them yet too."
Iron Blade opened his mouth to protest, but Whirr beat him.
"I know, you already committed them to memory," the older scientist chuckled lightly. "But I have my originals. You wouldn't want me to have copied these for nothing, would you?"
Iron Blade paused, then subspaced the blueprints. "I guess not."
"I'd better get back," Whirr said, patting the young mech on the shoulder. "Thank you again, Iron Blade."
The white, black, and silver mech reached and clasped the older mech's servo.
"Thank you, Whirr. You are the one at more risk here. Be safe, friend."
Whirr returned the grip and smiled again. "Until next time."
Iron Blade quickly disappeared into the forest as Whirr clicked a button on his remote. Another groundbridge swirled to life and without looking back, the Autobot ran through.
Once he was in his lab, he shut the bridge off again.
It was quite handy to have a secret, remote groundbridge at your disposal.
Setting the remote down on a shelf, Whirr withdrew the bag from his subspace and emptied its contents onto one of the nearby worktables.
"Well, this should be exactly what I need," he said to himself.
"So. That's where you do your science shopping. And how the Decepticons figure out our plans."
Whirr froze, immediately recognizing the voice behind him. Slowly he turned around, fear in his optics.
This was bad.
Steeldust stood in the middle of his lab, his servos crossed over his chest. The unreadable look on his faceplate made the scientist even more nervous.
However, he outranked the young mech. Maybe, if he had to, he could use that.
The mech swallowed hard, forcing his voice to be calm. "Steeldust. How did you get in here? You do not have clearance, nor have asked for my permission. In addition, my lab is always locked and I'm the only one who knows the code."
The red and black spy didn't move, didn't even blink.
"I followed you in. Been following you since you left the meeting."
Whirr's optics widened. "That means he followed through the groundbridge and saw me with Iron Blade."
"Why were you following me?"
Steeldust shrugged. "You looked like you were up to something." His servos fell to his sides. "I guess I was right."
"This is bad." Whirr knew he was cornered. A special ops had caught him in the act of treachery. "Why did it have to be a special operative?"
There was obviously no fighting this one out. Steeldust might only be about a helm taller than him and more lightly built, he was much better trained in combat. Not to mention he was fast.
Whirr thought he might have a chance of talking his way out. Might.
"Steeldust," Whirr began, voice a bit shakily. "I want you to think about what I'm about to say with an open mind. And think about it very carefully."
The young mech narrowed his optics but said nothing.
"In war, as you know, we sometimes have to do things we don't want to. Sometimes, in order to reach a greater goal, we have to make choices that may look treasonous."
"Look?" hissed the special op, taking a step forward. "Last I checked, trading info, weapons plans, and material is treasonous, Whirr. Are you trying to get killed?"
"Well, yes. You're right," Whirr said, scratching the back of his helm. "But you see, I can't get certain materials for my projects and such. You know, being on an organic planet makes things hard to come by and I simply don't have the resources the Decepticons do.
"And I've never given them crucial plan information, Steeldust. This isn't what you think."
Steeldust had looked away, scanning the room as Whirr spoke. Only his optics and his helm moved, otherwise, he was as still as a statue. Except for an occasional twitch of his doorwings.
Whirr, not for the first time, wished he knew wingspeech better. Or the doorwinger's version of it at least.
It would be helpful in this case to discern the young mech's thoughts on the matter. Or if he was trying to use the hidden sensors in his doorwings to find something.
Whirr also wished he knew how much doorwingers could sense. And exactly how it worked.
At least it wasn't one of the Praxians in here, they could sense even more than other doorwingers. If it was Prowl or Smokescreen, he'd definitely have a shorter lifespan. Bluestreak was loyal to Prowl, he would have already called him if it was him in here instead.
But Whirr was sure his demise would come very soon anyways. A special agent had found out.
"He likely holds my very life in his hands," the scientist realized dismally. "And if he's loyal, he will tell Optimus Prime about what he saw."
Whirr knew this deep down even before he had started trying to explain himself to the spy.
"Steeldust, I know this is a lot to ask, but will you please not tell the Prime? I fear I wouldn't be around much longer."
The young mech didn't look at him, he was still scanning the lab. "You know that would involve me in your little treachery, right?"
"I know, and I didn't want it to come to this."
Steeldust jerked and turned his attention back to the scientist, looking at his hands.
Which were empty.
The spy visibly relaxed, although his optics held suspicion. Then, his helm turned, something catching his attention on a nearby worktable.
"He thought I was going to harm him," Whirr realized. "That wouldn't help my situation, I'd have to explain that. Not that I would of course."
The scientist watched the young speedster with a sinking feeling in his tank. The kid had made no comment to offer him any reassurance.
Whirr bowed his helm. "I knew it was hopeless to plead. You are a good, loyal servant of the Prime, Steeldust. I should have known that."
"Is that energon candy?"
Jerking his helm up, Whirr followed the direction of the younger mech's gaze.
"Uh, yes? It's just a recipe I was trying to recover. I'm still tweaking it, it's not quite right yet."
Even as he was speaking, Steeldust had wandered over to the worktable and lifted the lid on the small container.
"As you know, the art of it has been long lost since before Cybertron went dark," Whirr continued, uneasy at the lack of concern Steeldust was showing over his traitorous deeds.
Or was it pretended lack of concern?
Whirr didn't know Steeldust very well. Not enough to tell. But he knew he was crafty. He could be just getting him to relax before he struck.
He watched as the speedster picked up one of the small cubes and examined it closely.
Then, suddenly, it was in his mouth and gone.
A look of delight crossed the red and black's faceplate and he turned to face Whirr.
"That was so good."
Whirr just stood there, blinking.
Steeldust grabbed another candy and quickly downed that one too.
"But it maybe needs a touch more sweetener."
Whirr continued to stare.
"Hey, Whirr," Steeldust said, ignoring the stare he was being given. "Since you're into trading. I'll keep completely quiet about this whole thing if you give me some of these."
Whirr semi recovered and nodded, gesturing with a hand to the sweets.
"By all means. I'm glad they're good."
Steeldust scooped out a handful and placed the lid back on the container. He turned and walked towards the door.
"Mind letting me out? I don't know your code for the door."
"Oh yes, yes, of course!"
Whirr hurried over and quickly punched in the code on the keypad. As he did, he couldn't help but note that Steeldust turned his helm so he didn't see.
Once the door was open, Steeldust strode out into the hall, sending a grin over his shoulder. "Thanks again, Whirr."
"Uh, thank you?" the very confused scientist said.
When Steeldust had disappeared around a corner in the hallway, heading upstairs likely, Whirr retreated into the lab and relocked the door.
"That didn't make any sense at all," he muttered to himself, staring at the remaining energon candy. "Why would he promise to not tell about this in return for candy?"
He narrowed his optics, worry crossing his faceplate. "Or will he keep that promise? I best keep my helm down for awhile either way."
Knowing there wasn't much point in trying to figure out the strange young mech, Whirr went back to what he'd been doing before being interrupted.
"How on Cybertron did he follow me all around without my notice?" the bewildered scientist asked out loud. "And he must have escaped Iron Blade's notice too!"
Whirr wondered just how many other times he might have been followed.
He would have to be more careful.
Steeldust made his way quickly up from the basement where Whirr's lab was.
And the brig cells and interrogation rooms were.
"What a weird place for a science lab," the speedster thought to himself.
He didn't get very far before he turned a corner, almost running into someone. Who he felt more than saw.
"Sheesh, Mirage!" Steeldust grouched, glaring at the wall where he figured his invisible superior was standing. "We need to get you a bell."
A disembodied voice replied. "That would be counterproductive, don't you think? Perhaps we need to get you a tracker. Where have you been?"
"Here in the base all orn," Steeldust said, moving his helm to better aim his gaze towards the voice. "Were you looking for me?"
"No. But you just came from the basement. Were you in the box again?"
The speedster frowned. "Why does everyone always ask that? No, I wasn't in the box. I was in the passages."
He imagined Mirage raising an optic ridge at that.
"I see. Carry on. See that you behave yourself."
Steeldust sent the invisible 'bot one last scowl before stalking off.
"Well, I guess I'm good with having snuck into the meeting. I can't tell if 'Raj noticed or not when I can't see his expression."
"Sunstreaker and Skyshadow were looking for you," Mirage called after him.
Freezing midstride, Steeldust didn't turn around.
"Why?"
"Skyshadow did not say."
"Do you know where they are now?"
"No, but I suspect that you could guess. Or simply comm them."
Steeldust listened, but didn't hear anything more. He figured Mirage had left and he carried on.
"Why would they be looking for me?" he wondered.
A cold feeling crept up his spine.
"And why didn't they just comm me in the first place? Why ask Mirage?"
Steeldust stopped and tapped a section of the wall, sliding the hidden panel open.
Two pairs of optics met his.
"Hello, Steeldust."
Thanks for reading!
Disclaimer: I own nothing but my oc's, Skyshadow and Steeldust. And my story. My brother, Blaster 2.0, owns Iron Blade, Whirr, and Blades.
