"Optimus, I just picked up the decepticon warship on sensors," Ratchet said, a soft beeping coming from the console.
"How did you penetrate their cloaking technology?" Optimus asked.
"I didn't," Ratchet said. "I was experimenting in the variable frequency wavelengths when I stumbled upon it. Even still, it must be significantly damaged if we're managing to detect them."
A second beeping joined the first. "And on the same frequency, an autobot distress beacon."
"The decepticons can wait," Optimus said immediately. "There maybe autobots in distress. Ratchet, you will accompany me. Bring your medical kit."
Ratchet and Optimus disappeared a few moments later through the Bridge. They didn't get further than the command deck when they determined it was a plague ship, and Optimus was accidentally infected.
He seemed to be walking fine, until halfway through the ground bridge when his knee joints collapsed under him and he moaned painedly. Wheeljack and Ratchet helped him onto the berth, and he lay down, Ratchet helping his boots onto the thick slab of metal that acted as a biobed. Wheeljack recoiled at the thin layer of rust growing around Optimus's neck cables.
Margo watched, pale, as Ratchet said, "Cybonic plague. A deadly genetically-engineered virus invented during the great war. It is only contagious if contact is made with the infected Energon."
Margo had her scraplets carry her over to Optimus's berth, gently put her down, and let her curl up on Optimus's arm. "Why is he restrained?"
"Cybonic plague is just as much a virus that affects the mind as the body," Arcee said. "It wiped out millions of autobots during the Great War, and tons of decepticon drones, but none of the formatted decepticons."
"I always thoughts they had a cure, and so did everyone else, but no one could get to it," Bulkhead said.
"Well, obviously it wouldn't be a run-of-the-mill file accessed by anyone other than decepticon medics and the highest commanders," Ratchet said. "We autobots were never able to discover a cure, but we did study the virus in detail."
"Encroaching psychosis, rusting, energon recrystallization, massive sparkcasing damage. I saw my best friend get it. His.. doorwings fell off because the nuts were removed." Bumblebee rubbed his arms. "Almost as bad as scraplets."
"Yeah. A lot of limbs were replaced that year," Arcee said, winglets twitching.
Margo sobbed from her place on Optimus's arm.
"For the moment, we can still track the decepticon warship. We should try and access the file again. It's bound to be less protected than usual, none of the usual recryptions, since cybonic plague doesn't even exist on this world," Arcee said desperately.
Ratchet nodded. "Yes. Arcee, Bumblebee, you're the most stealthy."
"I'm better at computering," Wheeljack protested.
"But not exactly subtle," Ratchet said.
"I can be," Wheeljack challenged. "I got around the warship without assistance and managed to avoid any guards that might've caught me. I remember the route to the medbay, I found it by accident when I tried to find the air doors."
Ratcher sighed. "Wheeljack, Bumblebee, you'll go."
"Ratchet!" Arcee protested.
"Yip-yip! Wheeljack's the best option. You do tend to have a more direct approach when it comes to computer,s but Wheeljack's better at coding and computer deconstruction than anyone else here."
"Trouble is not getting picked up by Soundwave," Jack moaned.
"I can handle it," Wheeljack said. "Our leader killed is not what we need right now."
"Just go," Margo said shakily from where she lay on Optimus's arm. "The more time he's like this, the worse he gets."
Optimus's servos dug painfully into the biobed and he started cycling his vents very loudly. Margo moved so he would have room to struggle.
"NOOOO!" Optimus screamed suddenly, lacking all his usual controls for the second time in a month. His voice was pained, echoing around the base loudly, and obviously frightened and stressed. He tried tearing his servos out of the restraints. "MAKE THEM STOP!"
Ratchet pushed him back down on the berth, typed in the coordinates, and the two immediately left base. Margo sobbed and covered her mouth, looking away. Energon lines were visible on his faceplate, and rust was surrounding one of his optics.
"Encroaching psychosis," Raf murmured. "Rusting."
Margo twitched and cried. She lowered herself back down on the biobed and leaned against Optimus's cables, careful not to disturb the rust covering his wires. "Please, be quiet, Raf."
Only Arcee and Optimus's reports made it through the throbbing pain in her skull as she listened to her guardian fight to get better, losing his battle with the disease in his veins.
"Ratchet? Were you-"
"Infected? No."
Optimus moaned in response. His optics fell shut.
The scraplets shivered in response to their Queen's anxiety and fear.
"Sleep," she commanded.
They instantly fell silent and immobile. Docile.
Margo shivered and sobbed. The measured beating of energon lines under Optimus's audial fins were getting shakier, less strong and sure.
Ratchet's frantic yelling was no more than noise under a sea of fog as Margo's hand brushed against Optimus's helm, petting it gently, just to have something to do.
Jack's voice broke through the fog. "-Optimus?"
"Wha?" Margo asked.
"They're going to pull the plug on Megatron!" Raf said at the obviously confused look.
"I should have been paying attention," Margo said.
"It is understandable that you could not," Ratchet said soothingly. "Go back to sleep, sparkling. We'll have this sorted out in a few minutes."
Ratchet had never lied to her before. He'd done the impossible before. She gulped down a sob and looked up with teary eyes. "Promise?"
"I promise, sparkling," Ratchet said, and turned back to the monitor.
So Margo turned back into the conversation.
Apparently, Bumblebee was scouting through Megatron's recreation of Kaon in his unconscious mind and was bargaining for the cure.
"If you let Optimus die, you'll never get what you want most!" Bumblebee said.
Megatron laughed. "Oh, scout. And what is it I want most?"
"To kill Optimus yourself!"
He chuckled again. "Did you not see, Scout?" The sneering dismissal made the title sound like an insult. "I do slay Optimus by my own hand, at will, whenever I desire!"
"Sure, in your mind, but in real life, Optimus is totally dying, and that death is not on your sword. If you let the virus kill him, you'll never get to see it yourself."
Megatron paused at that. Raf's voice was muddled as she payed complete attention to the shifting on her back where Optimus's pulse lay, and Megatron's pondering.
"After ages of endless battle, to not watch Optimus's spark ebb before my eyes..."
"That's what you'd like most, isn't it?"
"Well played, Scout." A cubic formula appeared above his hand. "The chemical formula for the cure you seek."
"FREEZE!" Arcee shouted. Ratchet started and paused the image before the sleeping minds could continue.
"Wheeljack, we have the formula! Disconnect Bumblebee now!"
Wheeljack didn't hesitate for a second, and left Bumblebee only three seconds to get back to his own mind, leaving Megatron trapped in his own.
Margo laughed and patted Optimus's ear fin. "You'll be okay, Optimus."
He groaned in response.
"Hey, Margo," Miko called. "What say we leave a little gift for the 'cons?"
Ratchet smirked and activated the ground bridge.
"Adults of the hive, awaken. Ignore my marked, and go through the ground bridge."
The scraplets simultaneous whirred in response, and shot through the bridge.
She felt them all offline about a minute later, and resolved never to send them on the Nemesis again.
Margo was left with only youngling scraplets, a quarter of the size of her previous Hive, and a mortally sick guardian.
She took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. Those things would get better. There were still a lot of scraplets at home, at school, in the base - the younglings would survive.
Wheeljack was half-carrying Bumblebee, who was rather disoriented about the sudden ejection from two minds in one day. He quickly righted himself and stood on his own two pedes, watching as Ratchet followed the rather simple formula for the cure.
Margo sighed with relief when Optimus started breathing easier.