Their mining operation was officially underway, and the mood around the Ark was one of celebration. A second camp would be set up in the mountains, the party having set out that morning. And hopefully, in a few weeks, the Autobots would no longer have to ration their fuel.

It was a pleasant thought.

And the reason most of the crew was in the rec room tonight, Perceptor included.

The red and teal introvert didn't normally like to party - in fact, he had some carnivorous plants back at the lab that were begging to be analyzed - but Wheeljack had dragged him out of his lair, and it would be rude to leave early. He settled down in a chair, resigned to the surprise socialization.

A message popped up on his HUD telling him to check camera #46.

There hadn't been another sighting or attack so no one else cared. And apparently muddy cameras didn't warrant an investigation either. But Perceptor was determined to solve the mystery of the invisible predators.

So far, he hadn't found any progress.

What he did find were ruined cameras.

He hiked out every morning to fix them. It had become something of a ritual. He'd tried everything, from setting traps to putting the devices in a protective cage of their own, but the traps would be sprung or a stick poked through the bars. Sometimes the cameras disappeared entirely. Often they reappeared in random places around the camp.

The best so far being on top of Cliffjumper, who'd been recharging outside one sunny afternoon.

Admittedly, that had been a good one. Perceptor didn't know if he should be infuriated or impressed.

Speaking of impressed...he looked around. If Wheeljack caught him doing work during a party, he'd lock him out of the lab for an orn. Luckily the gregarious inventor was nowhere in sight, having gotten lost in the crowd of people filling the rec room with conversation and laughter. Everyone was busy mingling. No one was paying attention.

He pulled up the camera feed.

He remembered camera #46. He'd just cleaned it this morning. Which meant right now it was "their" turn, so it was probably already defunct or defaced. Another casualty.

But instead of the usual 'error: offline' that signaled a camera's untimely demise, he found the stream quite clear and actually capturing something for once. A branch floated through the air, shaking rapidly in front of it. Like whatever was waving it wanted his attention.

This was...new.

Perceptor felt a rush of excitement. An attempt to communicate?

Did that mean it was his turn? How was he supposed to respond? Why did they want to communicate now, in the middle of the night, when the creatures surely knew the route of his daily hikes?

Well, he simply had to investigate. Perceptor quietly got up and left.

Camera #46 was in the woods just outside of camp, right at the treeline that marked the edge of the clearing the Ark had landed in. It would be easy to walk outside and check.

And it was a nice night for a walk. But no one else was outside. Noting the lack of patrols - they'd probably ditched to go to the party, which meant Red Alert would have their hides in the morning - Perceptor unsubspaced his rifle. Just in case.

There.

A vague figure lay on the ground, concealed by shadows and moonlight. Perceptor brandished his gun. He couldn't quite make out the shape in the dark - it seemed off.

That feeling of wrongness only increased as he approached. One of the creatures, finally visible? But the shape didn't look right. Actually, it kind of looked like a mech.

It was a mech!

Perceptor ran the rest of the way, dropping beside the mangled body, and a sense of dread curled around his spark. Fireflight didn't respond.

/::Ratchet, Fireflight's down! We're just outside the Ark!::/

/::What?!::/

Perceptor sent him an image. /::I need you!::/

One of Fireflight's wings was missing, and he was caked in enough mud and grass to start a garden. Energon was everywhere. Perceptor wasn't a medic, but he knew how to weld. There were just so many leaks - Fireflight was leaking out. He couldn't possibly plug them all. In his frenzy to stop the bleeding, he didn't immediately notice when help arrived. Someone poked his shoulder.

"Perceptor, it's okay." Wheeljack pulled him off. "We got him. It's okay."

He'd brought Ratchet and First Aid, who immediately set to work. Wheeljack looked at him funny.

"You did good. Probably saved the kid's life. How'd you know he was out here?"

"My cameras…." Perceptor whispered. He realized his hands were shaking. They were covered in energon.

"Come on, you should get cleaned up." Wheeljack put a reassuring hand on his shoulder and steered him back towards the ship. The party was over.


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