The Honor in Duty
Chapter 13
Dark Reflections
Authors Note: Contrary to popular belief, I am not dead!
First of all, I want to offer a huge thanks and also apology to everyone who is still here and still reading. To be perfectly honest I have no idea how it's been over a year since my last update! IRL has been very busy and very exciting with promise of getting much busier and much more exciting lol. To everyone who wrote reviews and pm'd me, thank you so much for staying loyal and nagging me to keep writing XD. Here's to hoping I can get into a routine of writing again...
Anyway, you guys have been waiting way too long for this chapter so I'll let you get into it!
"We have fought bravely for our cause, for our world, for decavorns, crushing the enemy beneath our pedes. Many of our number have died for our world, but no matter the cost and no matter the losses, we, the Decepticons have continued to fight for our cause, for the peace and prosperity of all mechs and femmes: united and equal."
The Lord Protector paused to look out over the crowd of soldiers and civilians gathered to listen to him with awed and enamored gazes.
"However, the time has come for our noble cause to rise from our humble beginnings and spread throughout the cosmos. We must show the weaker peoples of the galaxy the true meaning of strength. The true meaning of peace. It is time for the Decepticons to leave Cybertron once and for all, to rise to new heights of greatness in the galaxy. Rise up in arms with me, brothers! Rise with me to bring the galaxy to its knees! We will quench the thirst of our blades with their very life-En until there is none left in the cosmos to deny us our destiny! Peace. Through. Tyranny!"
"Leave Cybertron?"
The femme blinked a few times and replayed her audio memory of the Lord Protector's words. So caught up in the idea of leaving her homeworld, the little femme lost track of what was going on around her. Had she been paying more attention, she would have noticed the sudden change in the tone of the speech. She also would have noticed the cheering crowd also jeering insults to the Autobots and neutrals alike, and chanting for their sparks.
We cannot leave Cybertron… the femme frowned, digging a fang into her masked lip with a disconcerted flick of her finials. Skyquake would not receive new coordinates to return to, he was out of communications. How would he find her again if he didn't know where to go? He would return to their beautiful world only to find it abandoned.
Not that there was much left to their world. The Senate, the Autobots, their War… it had destroyed their world. The whole world. And over what in the end? Power? Wealth? Energon? Well now no one had any of those things, so that had worked out well. Her engine growled with disgust with the whole situation.
Perhaps she would have been better off to stay with other few survivors of Protihex as a neutral. It wasn't as though she had succeeded in getting much revenge either. Magnus was the one she wanted most, he was the figurehead of the operation that her city fell to after all.
The little two-wheeler turned to leave the speech early only to find herself blocked off by a wall of charcoal plating.
"Goin' somewhere?"
"Meister!" She exclaimed, her processors not entirely set in reality at the moment, mumbling, "Uh, yeah, Protihex. The signal will be boosted by the proximity to the Allspark. Need to get… stuff… steal a bridge, too far to drive in time, get left behind, can't stay, can't go, Skyquake…"
The darkly painted minibot quirked an optic ridge at the femme's ramblings. Had the little spark finally fried her circuits? The way she worked herself, it would not surprise him. It would be a shame if she had, Meister mused, the femmeling – in spite of his desire to hate her for being the cause of Prowl's death – seemed to have grown attached to him. He couldn't say that he was unaffected by their little relationship either.
Which was, the mech thought darkly, the whole point of an infiltration op. But this femme was unlike any other Decepticon he had dealt with, and he had befriended a lot of mechs – many even decent mechs – in enemy territory over the vorns. It was as though she had no idea what the Decepticons were though. This jaded, spark-broken, brightspark was the most idealistic, honorable, and inherently good Decepticon he'd ever met, and she seemed to think that that was normal.
He had noticed it in how the other Decepticons treated her as well. In her presence, the whole Decepticon force seemed to put on a show of more decency than he thought them capable of mustering. It seemed like an awful lot of effort to go through for one femmeling. He wondered if their actions were a result of Megatron or of the murderous piece of slag that she seemed so very fond of.
Nevertheless, Meister followed the rambling femmeling back towards the main headquarters. Whatever she was planning, it sounded like she would need help.
Both in completing her mission and in surviving the consequences.
Ratchet looked at the femme before him, optics narrowed minutely as he focused on the readouts, waving a spanner in front of her face. "Follow the light…"
Her violet optics lit up slowly and chased the spanner with as good of reaction time as was to be expected from a bot straight out of stasis.
She rolled her optics at him and shoved herself up from the vertical berth with a little huff, "Not the best choice of words, Ratchet."
"'Cee, you okay?" Cliffjumper asked, concern tinging his normally flippant voice as he reached out to rub her arm gently.
It was unclear if he was only trying to comfort her or keep her on the berth, but either way he wasn't going to complain. The femme needed the rest; she never would take of herself without help. The medic felt a tenderness brush over his expression for an astrosecond when the femme didn't shrug him off like she normally would have.
Arcee nodded, still working her joints and fluttering her plating to shake off the numbness of stasis. "Other than being blindsided by Optimus, sure."
"Impossible." Ratchet snapped instantly, briefly glancing over at Terabyte, who'd spoken in unison with him. Everyone ignored Agent Fowler's smug exclamation of 'I told you!'
Hands raised defensively, Arcee shook her helm, "I'm just reporting what I saw."
"But why would Optimus try to knock off Agent Fowler?" Jack put a hand on his hip, gesturing confusion with his other hand, looking for all the world like a fleshy male clone of his guardian. It was interesting how much each human had bonded with their respective guardians. From all the data he had gathered, humans had no such aspect as a spark, their heart was no more than an organ. And yet the way they bonded and formed relationships bore an undeniable semblance to the bonds of a spark in every way except physical.
"Or maybe Optimus just thinks he's a Decepticon again?" Miko suggested hopefully, glancing up at Bulkhead with worry in her eyes.
Miko's guardian's recent behavior had been affecting her more than anyone else involved. Maybe even more than Terabyte herself, especially because of the girl's growing friendship with Skyquake: Bulkhead had begun to shun her as well to some extent. Bulkhead merely crossed his arms and grunted, muttering, "Or the Con's still in his helm and they've been faking it all this time."
Skyquake let out the beginning of a growl before he saw Taia flinch and duck back behind Raf with a squeak of fear. Everyone heard the child whispering to Raf, "Are they gonna fight again? Is Miss Byte gonna get hurt again?"
Ratchet rolled his optics at the Wrecker, shaking his helm minutely before bringing everyone's attention back to the matter at hand, "If Prime has gone off the rails – for any reason – we have a serious problem."
Just as the medic spoke, he was shoved aside by the smallest femme who had remained silent up until this point. Her mask was raised again, bringing a twinge of sorrow to his spark. Just as she had begun to open up to them, it seemed present circumstances and the high tensions running through the base had pushed her back to her defenses.
"You are all faithless fools." Terabyte spat, glaring at them all for doubting their Prime. "A simple location check will prove that our Prime is nowhere near the coordinates of tonight's incident. This is all clearly a trick arranged by either Megatron or MECH and you should all be ashamed of yourselves for falling for it so easily."
She pulled up the screens and checked his location, gesturing to the readout for all to see. The map showed Optimus's signal approaching the base at a leisurely pace. "Not only is he far from the incident, he is here, far too long a journey to drive in one night without bridging in."
"Whoever is responsible for this scheme wants to divide us and may we all rust in Pit if we let them succeed." Skyquake rumbled, the massive jet clearly trying to keep his tone slightly softened for the human sparkling's sake. He had followed Terabyte, not-so-subtly placing himself between her and Bulkhead, his wings tilted rigidly in an aggressive stance.
Just as he finished speaking, Optimus rolled in and transformed, his cobalt optics widening slightly with confusion as the whole group flinched and drew their weapons on him. "Is something wrong?"
Everyone exchanged glances and Ratchet sighed heavily. What wasn't wrong would be the better question. So much had happened in the past few months, the bots had been put through so much. First with Terabyte's conversion and then betrayal and then legitimate conversion and hacking, and Skyquake, Wheeljack, and Jetfire – though Jetfire was relatively unproblematic – and then Unicron for goodness' sakes and working together with Megatron. Then Megatron taking both Prime and Terabyte away, and Dreadwing's return. Now there was an evil Optimus trying to slag his second-in-command.
Never a break.
"We were just wondering where you've been." The medic settled with at last. "We haven't been able to reach you."
The Prime frowned, glancing at the weapons that were still drawn and at the ready. From where Ratchet was standing, he could feel a wave of grief and consternation as the Matrix-bearer no doubt noticed which weapons were drawn and which were not. "I… have been beyond our communications range."
The medic cringed at the hesitation, watching the wary bots bristle with suspicion. Optimus never lied and he wasn't lying now. Terabyte was right, they had lost all trust in anything.
Cliffjumper pushed Arcee's gun down and shook his helm at everyone in the room. "Even you 'Bee? C'mon, this is our mech, this is our leader. If Prime says he was out of range, he was out of range, and if he wanted to hurt anyone, he would've by now."
"We're sorry," Arcee said finally, looking around at the cluster of bots now gathered around Optimus with shame in their optics. The femme glared at Bulkhead for a klick before he too put his weapons away. "Can't blame them though, I was attacked earlier tonight by a big rig – one that bore a striking resemblance to you."
Optimus hummed softly, his optics dimming with thought. "We must be on our guard. It is possible that I am in fact at fault, we cannot rule out any possibilities."
"Especially with Soundwave hacking bots' brains." Rafael added quietly.
Two Weeks Later
She growled at the empty road in front of her. And the empty landscape on every side. And the empty sky. There was nothing and no one in sight for miles.
"This is a waste of time." She snapped finally, revving her engine as she sped up, churning up clouds of dust behind her. "My skillset would be much better utilized behind the computers, allowing Ratchet to assist Jetfire on the synth-En project."
Cliffjumper laughed, "You've been complaining this entire trip, lighten up, enjoy the open road."
The femme huffed, tilting her mirrors to look over the bleak, sun-parched wasteland. "I would be more inclined to go back to that mountain in Washington with all the sleet."
She couldn't help but smirk at the mech's cheerful outlook though. And she did have to admit that he had fine taste in music. She allowed her steering to loosen, letting her wheels sway slightly to the melody.
"Theeeeere we go, now you're getting there!" The mech swerved over to bump her gently with his door, laughing at her exclamation of mock pain. "Patrols are for fun, they're not work. If it's work, you're doing it wrong, just drive the route, enjoy the road, the view, the power roaring through your engine. And look for Cons and evil Primes, y'know, the usual."
"The usual." Terabyte snickered, her thoughts turning serious once again. "Supposing we do find this Optimus figure… what if he truly is our Prime under Megatron's control? Could he be controlled as I was?"
For a few minutes they drove in quiet, only interrupted by the sounds of their engines and the occasional cry of an eagle. She could hear the rustling of tumbleweeds still, and the heartbeats of the tiny fleshy creatures that lived in the wastelands, but she had grown accustomed to these background sounds.
"We should cross that bridge when we get there. I mean, like Boss Bot said, we can't rule it out, but let's hope not."
"It's been three weeks since Arcee was attacked, we should have heard something by now." She dodged a tumbleweed and growled at it. Cybertron was so much better than Earth. No dust, sand, water, rust, ice etc. Dumb organic planets.
He hummed in reply, getting distracted for a moment by his favorite part of the current song. She cringed at the loud beat in the background, drowning out the words. His music taste had a few artists she was not particularly fond of.
"Well we have been on patrol for some time, nearly an orn, maybe they have." Cliffjumper sent her a grimacing glyph, "We have so many bots in the base now, Optimus is probably just trying to keep some of us away at all times. It probably is about time we headed back to base though."
"While we are in the flow of listing things to hope for, let us hope that Bulkhead refrains from trying to off me again." She sighed a short breath of amusement. "That would make for a pleasant change."
/Ratchet, can we get a bridge home?/
/Negative, the human military base a few klicks north of your position is under attack, supply backup./
Cliffjumper jumped into the conversation with a string of glyphs indicating a whine, /Do we haaaave to? We've been on patrol for like two weeks, send 'Cee, Bee, and Jetbrain./
/You will be debriefed when you return, they're undergoing minor repairs after an altercation with an Insecticon./ Ratchet replied shortly.
"An Insecticon?" Headlights flickering to highbeams briefly in surprise, Terabyte spread her EM field over to the red Dodge to confirm that she heard the medic correctly. /An Insecticon? Are you certain?/
/Last I checked nothing else fits the description 'as tall as your tin-helmed lugnut, three rows of razor fangs, mandibles, strong enough to leave Megatron agreeing to a trade to spare his life'./
Her engine rumbled at the medic's frustration, but she knew he was only that way out of concern for them. But if he was worried – /Is Sky okay?/
/Get to the military outpost. You'll be debriefed after the mission./
She sent Cliff an inquisitive glyph, sighing when he replied with the equivalent of a shrug and a reassuring shoulder squeeze. Answers were what she needed, not reassurances. If Sky was hurt in any way…
"Sky'll be fine TB." Cliffjumper said softly, his engine purring gently to ground her. "If he was hurt, Ratch would've told you, he knows your connection and he knows better than to keep stuff like that from you."
'Knows better'. The way he said it made it seem like she'd go on a murderous rampage if he had been harmed. She loosed a disdainful huff at the thought; she had better control of herself than to do anything rash, even if Sky was involved.
The mech beside her chuckled, drawing her attention to his EM field brushing hers and practically sparking with amusement. "Well ya know, you kinda did go crazy last time you thought he was offed."
Terabyte let a wave of indignation flow through her EM field before pulling it away from his. She may have opened up a lot but she would have to be more careful with her field. Emotional privacy was something she still valued. If she trusted someone with her emotions, she would prefer to describe them.
Letting people feel her emotions so raw and unfiltered was simply too intimate for even the closest friends. It left a bot far too vulnerable.
Pulling up closer to the military installation, the gunfire that had been ringing in her audials for the past six miles grew nearly deafening to her sensitive equipment. Human weaponry was so obscenely loud compared to Cybertronian technology. It was a wonder they even had a grasp of stealth concepts at all.
She flung herself up into bipedal form and cautiously approached the base, before realizing they were approaching from the rear. "Jump the fence or go around?"
A human shriek of agony pierced their audials and she and Cliffjumper shared a look of urgency. Cliffjumper knelt on one knee and waved her over, bracing himself for a lift. "I'll help you over and then jump, it's too tall for you."
"Ten feet is sparkling's play." She objected, nonetheless stepping onto his hands and springing over the fence, turning a flip midair and landing with light thump on the other side. "Granted, that is faster and significantly less effort on my part."
"The fence is at your mid-riff, Short Stuff, go ahead, I'll follow."
The little femme rolled her optics, snapping her battle mask up, "Get your aft over the fence, if the attacker is in fact Optimus, engaging him alone would be ill advised."
She smirked as the mech, a mere two and a half feet taller than her sixteen-foot stature took a running jump and vaulted himself over, scraping against the barbed wire just enough to bend it slightly out of shape.
"Hush up, Short Stuff, I'm a frontliner, not an acrobat." Cliffjumper drew his ion cannons and scouted the area, wincing at another scream, followed by several contradictory orders being roared from two different sides. The humans were falling into chaos. "Let's go."
They ran towards the center of the battle, catching a glimpse of the mech responsible for the attack. He stood tall in the midst of the base, blasting at the buildings, vehicles, and people indiscriminately. The mech looked exactly like Optimus, but with a slapped-together purple paintjob over metals that were rusted, looking like each piece of plating was repurposed from a scrapyard.
His optics shone purple, but lacked any glimmer of life as they looked down over the base.
"Slag." Cliffjumper breathed, "They actually did it."
"MECH finally cracked the code." Terabyte finished before wincing as she felt a bullet chink off her leg armor. She cocked her helm at the imposter, judging his appearance, "I can see how it might be a convincing image at night, though it fails to impress in daylight."
"They called in reinforcements!" A human general shouted, "Open fire!"
The two Autobots backed away slowly, bullets bouncing off their armor by the dozens as soon as the order was given. Cliffjumper roared as a lucky shot hit between his armor, "Pit! We're only trying to help!"
Amidst the flurry of flying bullets and angrily shouting human faces, she noticed that one of the men refused to fire on them. He was watching them with wide eyes, glancing between them and the imposter-Prime, who was still firing on the base.
/Prime, the humans have opened fire, please advise./ She commed, putting a servo on the red mech's arm to cool his temper and prevent him from obliterating any of the humans.
/Withdraw and return to base. We must not inflict any human casualties./
Terabyte's optics widened as she saw the enemy mech's blasts growing closer and closer to a bunker that her initial scans for potential risks had revealed to be filled with the base's fuel supply. She ran a set of calculations and started running, bullets still stinging against her armor.
Cliffjumper swore under his breath again, /They're certainly not trying to return the courtesy./
Terabyte hissed as a stray bullet caught behind her knee-plate, /Awaiting bridge in three klicks./
"Terabyte! What are you doing, let's get the Pit out of here!" The red mech shouted after her, making his way towards her, watching his step to avoid the soldiers that had crowded tighter around him.
That was a good thing. Those soldiers were out of the way, and would keep him out of the way too. She just needed to get to the bunker in time to block the blasts…
There wasn't enough time to stop MECH, blocking his blasts with her own frame would most probably only spare the bunker for a few astroseconds before proving futile. Her optics locked onto the group of three humans only meters from the bunker.
"Terabyte!"
In less than an astrosecond her processors had gone through one last calculation and her engine growled, pumping as much energy as she could muster into a leap towards the soldiers. Mid-jump she heard the beginning of an explosion before she snapped her finials offline, curling her frame around the three humans as she landed, digging her claws into the ground to brace against the rush of searing heat and shrapnel tearing at her armor.
She opened her mouth in a shriek that she couldn't hear, curling tighter to ensure none of the blast reached the fleshlings in her grasp.
This was not exactly what she had originally had in mind. In her original plan, she thought wryly, she had imagined a much nicer pain to success ratio. One that was preferably mostly success. Granted, she still had the same amount of success, as the intended people to be rescued were all still, presumably, rescued. But this was definitely not as pleasant as her original plan.
She wondered if it was a bad sign that her mind was so calm. But honestly after what she had just been through under Megatron's control, baring her back to an explosion a few meters away seemed insignificant. Ratchet would probably be displeased with her. She could feel her breathing, ragged with pain. Her armor seemed to be trembling faintly.
The femme flicked her finials back online with a wince, uncurling herself from around the humans. She lowered her battle mask and returned their awed gazes with a little smile. "Are you all unharmed?"
She made a mental note to run a diagnostic on her pain receivers, as the signals coming through to her HUD were inconsistent, and far fewer than they ought to have been. Perhaps Knockout had dulled her sensitivity settings manually in an attempt to make his experiments less torturous?
The youngest of the three humans nodded, smiling back at her nervously until the man who was clearly in charge of their group pushed the other two back and glared at her, levelling his gun towards her with his jaw set determinedly. "Get off my base, alien, before we remove you forcibly."
"As if I'm still here out of the kindness of your heart." She thought, shaking her helm wryly, "Your species has much to learn about gratitude."
In moments Cliffjumper was at her side, helping her up and shielding her from the onslaught of weapons-fire that the soldiers had once again opened up against them and MECH's imposter indiscriminately. "Stupid femme."
Honestly, she wasn't that badly hurt. At least compared to how she could have been. Skyquake had conspired with Ratchet and Jetfire, and the result was getting together some light-weight military grade armor for her. Considering that such a blast would have previously left her unconscious, she was quite content to have gotten out with only a few wounds where shrapnel had poked through her armor.
It was quite clear from his EM field that Cliffjumper would strongly disagree with her positive analysis of her injuries.
"We can 'get the Pit out of here' now." The little two-wheeler offered, shooting him a small smirk.
"Stupid femme."
Fowler emerged from the call room with a scowl on his face. Or perhaps his face was just always like that, it really was difficult to tell.
"So what's the damage?"
The dark-skinned human tossed a glare at Cliffjumper's flippant tone, his eyes watching the mech as Arcee fussed over the dents and scuffs in his plating. The femme bristled at his gaze and shifted, glaring at everyone in the room, daring them to comment on her actions.
He cleared his throat and sighed, "All military personnel are under strict orders to destroy any and all bots on sight."
The children reacted with a chorus of indignant cries from where they stood on the balcony to be on the bots' level, Miko's voice ringing loud and clear, "But they're innocent!"
"Optimus was framed." Jack agreed, his eyes narrowing at the injustice.
Terabyte smiled ruefully at their naïve belief in a just world. She had lived on two sides of the same War, and yet both sides had their injustices. It was simply a fact of life; to grant freedoms in one area, compromises must be made in others. "The human leaders merely wish to ensure the safety of your people. In their eyes, we are all the same whether we be Autobots, Decepticons, or MECH's abominations, Cybertronians are a threat to humankind."
A rumble of agreement drew her attention to Optimus, "Though unfortunate, the military order changes nothing. Our imposter-"
From where he sat on the floor, wings against the wall, Skyquake chuckled darkly, "Your imposter."
The masked little femme shot him a glare as the Prime continued, pausing only a moment to concede to the correction, "My imposter, clearly poses a grave threat to humanity."
Rachet swore from where he stood just a few paces behind Cliffjumper and Arcee, watching the two-wheeler work on his patient with careful optics. "A thirty-foot-tall, transforming imposter. Primus. Those butchers actually did it. They cracked the code."
Her engine rumbled and she sent off a disapproving glyph to Ratchet through private comms, an unspoken reprimand for his choice of words with younglings present.
There was no way that this could be a good thing for Earth's future. If MECH had figured out how to create life-sized Cybertronian war machines, it would only be a matter of time before this technology was spread through the planet and these primitive fleshlings began slaughtering each other on a planet-wide scale. If after millennia of advancement, Cybertronians had still destroyed their world – a much sturdier planet by all means – in their quest to terminate each other, Earth would not stand a chance against such forces.
Jetfire's heavy pedefalls drew the room's attention as the massive white jet emerged from the med lab that he basically never left. Honestly, Terabyte often wondered if he would simply offline in there if it weren't for the base's residents bringing in Energon rations for him through the day.
The white jet was still gazing intently at his research tablet, "MECH abducted the Decepticon named Breakdown, and by all indications, disassembled him from heel strut to cranial chamber for their research."
"I was there." Bulkhead agreed darkly, bringing to their recollection the scene he had described to them on returning from his unapproved rescue mission.
Something about his Wrecker honor had been his excuse for rescuing the enemy. But she knew that if she had been in the same situation and had gone on a rescue mission for a Decepticon in MECH's clutches, she would be back in the brig. Trust was a senseless thing.
"And we know that, more recently, they obtained Starscream's T-cog." Optimus added, his armor fluttering ever-so-slightly in disapproval of Bulkhead and Ratchet's recent rescue of the Seeker.
"Which they evidently installed in a knock-off of you." Arcee concluded, popping a particularly deep dent out of Cliffjumper's armor. The ping echoed through the room.
Terabyte smirked behind her battle mask. She had failed to mention to Ratchet that the blast she'd rescued the human soldiers from had seared the right edge of her mask to her face-plate. She would need to peel it apart later on but for now it was not horribly urgent by her judgement.
She dug through her memory files and sent them all a snapshot of her scan of MECH's imposter. "A rather good likeness, paint job aside. MECH clearly designed it to turn the human governments against us."
"That isn't fair, you guys have done nothing but help us!" Miko objected, glaring at Fowler as though he were personally responsible for his government's decisions.
Bulkhead chuckled, "Yeah, well, the good guys don't always get their way." His optics ran across the little two-wheeler he still saw as the spy she had once been. "And bad guys aren't always the ones who gotta deal with the consequences."
The femme suppressed a growl of her engine, though Skyquake's displeasure rumbled loud and clear. A warmth filled her spark as she noticed Arcee's hand of restraint on her partner's shoulder as he too let out a growl of warning.
Small hands gripped her leg armor and tickled her frame as their owner scrambled her way up Terabyte's armor, coming to a halt right beside her finial and whispered, "Miss Byte… why is everyone so… growly? The fat green one doesn't like you, does he?"
She leaned her helm slightly to touch her faceplates against the little girl's fleshy frame, allowing her EM field to wash over Taia with a wave of comforting reassurance. She was unsure if humans were capable of feeling such a gesture, but she offered it anyway, replying softly, "Do not worry, little one, in time he will forgive, but we must be patient."
"Oh… I don't like being patient. Everyone should just get along."
"That would be a perfect world."
Her finials flicked as she sensed a piercing gaze on her back. When she glanced to see the owner of the gaze, she found Bumblebee's soft optics silently pleading. Her secret was tearing at the young mech's spark, she could see it in his optics.
"-ot necessarily." Terabyte pulled her attention back to the conversation around her, watching Jetfire connect to the base's main terminal, bringing up the map and making calculations, "While MECH may have learned much of our biology, they have had little to no contact with our technology."
Cliffjumper cut in, his optics lit up eagerly, "Which means Nemesis Prime's alt is his only mode of transportation."
"Precisely." Jetfire tapped in the last of his triangulations with a flourish. "Meaning, MECH's base of operations is somewhere within easy driving distance of both incidents. Which is to say, here."
"So what are we waiting for? Let's get out there and mash MECH's little science project!"
Terabyte stood up, taking a step towards the source of this enthusiasm, her tone cautiously level, "Agent Fowler, I do not know if it is wise for you to put yourself in harm's way of MECH's robot again."
He sneered at her, "Well I don't know if it's 'wise' for Bots to be running recon with the military out gunning for you."
"We will maintain vehicle cover until absolutely necessary. Jetfire will accompany Bumblebee, Bulkhead, Arcee, and myself to analyze MECH's work and retrieve any data we may find onsite." The Prime's engine rumbled minutely, dispelling any further arguments from their human liaison. He turned his optics to her and Cliffjumper, his voice somehow becoming even more final, "Terabyte, Cliffjumper, you are to remain here with Ratchet for repairs. Agent Fowler, take the children home."
Somehow no one mustered the courage to contend the orders given.
Later…
Skyquake huffed, slamming his fists against the berth with a snarl. "What am I? Invisible?"
She shook her helm, her thoughts elsewhere. She could hear their voices but could not drag herself out of her thoughts enough to respond.
"These bullet holes aren't even mesh wounds, I've been dispatched with far worse."
"Cut the slag Cliffjumper." Ratchet grumbled, half-sparkedly managing Terabyte's repairs. "The three of you are better kept out of trouble, bunch of slag-helmed fools with no sense of self-preservation, jumping in front of a fragging explosion for a group of idiots ripping into you with everything they had?! You nearly rival the twins, femme."
Optimus' voice had been more than just final. He was angry, offended even. Granted, his form had been taken to go against everything that defined him as both a leader and as a mech. But this was the Prime, he had to keep a level helm.
Then again, she could hardly be the judge of a level helm of late.
And every time Bulkhead glared at her, Bumblebee was always there. His advice was sound, if she told the others, something would be done for it and she would feel a burden lifted. Yet she could not shake the feeling that this was something she needed to do for herself.
You gotta fight your own battles, femme. Ain't gonna do that for you, nor should I.
"Shut up."
She growled at Jazz's voice ringing in her helm. Why was she thinking about Jazz/Meister so much lately? What was bringing him into her mind? Was it just that probing a few months ago? Or was there another reason?
Deep inside her spark, the femme flinched at a dull pain that had been resurfacing ever since Ratchet had been in her helm and brought it all to the front of her mind again. She shifted her helm and flared her armor in and out a few times, disrupting Ratchet's work.
After a moment of a silence she only just began to notice that she had incurred, the red and white medic cleared his vents softly, "I… I apologize for my gruffness Terabyte. I only wish that you would look after yourself."
She lowered her gaze and smiled at the medic's thoughtfulness. She knew he meant well, she understood that his apparent anger was only ever a cover for a spark that felt too deeply for patients that he was continually afraid he would not always be able to fix.
"You don't seem to have any regard for your own spark and wellbeing." The medic continued; his voice gentle, gentler than she had ever heard it except that one time in the middle of the night. "You throw yourself in front of your allies and enemies alike if you feel like some slight good might come of it, flinging yourself in cannon-blasts, punches, bombs, medical experiments. It's as though your life means nothing to you."
He ran a scan over her one last time with a heavy sigh at the results. "Your spark is strained from supporting a damaged frame for so long, you still haven't recovered fully from Knockout's handiwork, and your spark-casing is still cracked from the battle of the bridges…"
Cliffjumper snorted with disgust, "You mean from Bulk' going all Wreck-It-Ralph on her?"
Ratchet shuttered his optics for a moment before choosing to ignore the statement, "It's as though your life means nothing to you."
The little femme clasped her servos together, scratching at a nick in the paint on the back of her hand. She felt her battle mask twitch faintly as she fought the instinctive urge to shield her faceplates from his searching gaze.
Terabyte glanced over at Skyquake only to find he was waiting for her answer just as much as the others. The spy focused her attention towards her spark, probing it for answers. It felt weaker than normal, Ratchet was right.
Her spark pulsed and she felt a chill run through her. She had a lot of loose threads floating around, cut and broken ties within her spark. It felt as though she was searching for something, something distant and out of reach.
Protihex, her creators… Smokescreen… Nightracer, Darkshine and Shadowlight, even Thunderblast… Voltage, Meister… Makeshift... So many others. So many lost. She felt a keen rise up from her engine as she suddenly was washed over with grief. The bonds she had lost and never truly allowed herself to mourn. Other bonds, fresher, but chafed by recent events, frayed at the edges.
Her whole frame trembled as this dark, icy feeling threatened to engulf her spark.
It was all her fault, all of them. If she had only done something. If she had only done more. Why in all of it did she always survive? Why did her spark latch onto so many people only to lose them?
Little buds of bonds constantly forming with every bot she met, some faded peacefully in the natural course of things, but so many had been broken off by death and betrayal early on. Others, the ones that hurt, grew for vorns before being ripped away from her, leaving the tattered remains in her spark, aching.
It felt as though her spark was shattered.
"Guess the casing isn't all that's cracked." Terabyte choked out finally. Her face was damp with coolant she didn't realize she had been crying.
She felt Skyquake's warmth wrap around her in a firm embrace, his strong, steady spark-pulse pressing into her back and grounding her own. The rhythm overwhelmed hers until her spark fell in sync with it and she felt relief wash over her. Soon after, she felt Cliffjumper slide his arm in and hug her from the left.
To her surprise, even Ratchet joined on the other side, completing the circle of support and warmth around her. None of them spoke for several breems, but their fields all spoke the same words to her very spark: You aren't alone.
At long last Skyquake kissed the top of her helm gently and broke the silence, "It's alright to let yourself mourn. We are here."
Her spark caught at the tender action, her forehelm tingling from his touch. A new warmth bubbled up in her spark and her tears renewed with greater force as positive and negative feelings mixed into a confused mess that she couldn't will herself to try to decipher.
Terabyte's frame relaxed and she let herself lean into the group's embrace. They were all here for her.
"And we aren't going anywhere."