Author's Notes: Well, I know I'm late to the party, but last night I finally saw the Bumblebee movie. I gotta say, I knew the first 5 Michael Bay movies were bad, but they look even worse after seeing what a competent director and a decent script can do for a Transformers movie. It's obvious the people behind this one actually liked the original cartoon, and the actors were really good in this one as well. The main emotion I feel is surprise, since I had pretty low expectations. The emotion of a Disney film and the senseless violence of Mars Attacks. A weird combination, but it works.

Anyway, about the chapter for this fic. I know I updated pretty quickly this time, but I'm just excited to get this part out there. I feel like the length is wrong though. I don't know if I should have split this into two chapters or if I should have waited and made a monster chapter out of this one, but it feels off to me. Probably because I know where this is going. Hopefully it will still read well. I also finished a chapter of "The Rat Came Back", but I won't post that one until later since it needs editing. For now though, strap in folks, because this is where things really start to ramp up :)

Chapter 7

Someplace Better

Prowl had searched for leads all day long regarding the traitor. He had analyzed the text recording for speech patterns to see if he could eliminate anyone, he had retraced the path to the equipment vault to see who would have had the most convenient access, and had interviewed several crew members to try to gets deals. Nothing panned out. His two major suspects were Perceptor and Red Alert, but he didn't know if it was either of them, neither of them, or both of them working together. It felt like everything was hitting a dead end.

Out of all the mechs Prowl thought could help him, Bluestreak was the last one he would have guessed had any information to speak of. As it turned out though, he had something to say.

"Who did you say told you this?" Prowl asked for clarification.

"Sludge," Bluestreak replied, "It was late last night, somewhere between 2:00 AM and 3:00 AM according to our position on earth. Red Alert was talking to himself about you and tearing apart his own equipment. I don't know what it means, but it certainly seems suspicious."

"Indeed it does," Prowl confirmed, "I'll have to check this out for myself. Don't tell anyone you spoke to me about this, and inform Sludge to keep this confidential as well."

"I don't know if that will work," Bluestreak replied uncertainly, "Sludge is pretty dense. He's a nice guy, but I don't think he can keep a secret."

"You, Bluestreak, have no self awareness and no sense of irony," Prowl said dryly as he stood up from his desk and walked to the door, "Remember, speak of this to no one."

With those words Prowl left his office and headed for the security room; leaving Bluestreak confused and wondering if he had just been insulted.

Sparkplug showed up to the Ark for work bright and early as usual. His son Spike immediately went to find Bumblebee and Hound, which left Sparkplug to go to the labs as always.

The middle aged man could feel the tension on the ship as if it were smog choking the joy out of the atmosphere. This investigation had been going on for too long, and the Autobots were tired of being trapped inside. The only one allowed to leave without clearance was Optimus, and frankly this was a bad time for the big guy to leave since he was the only one left that could command any sort of trust or respect.

"Why can't you just admit it?!" Sparkplug heard Cliffjumper shout.

"I have already been acquitted, you uncouth troll," Mirage retorted.

Sparkplug just sighed and continued on until he found the labs. In the public lab he could see Perceptor and Skyfire working on something involving chemicals and test tubes. That wasn't Sparkplug's specialty, so he ignored it. He was there to see Wheeljack and help the engineer out like always. Out of all the academic types on the Ark Sparkplug found that he connected with Wheeljack the best. Wheeljack just felt like any other mechanic rather than some high-riding professor or uppity physician. That humble friendly attitude always drew Sparkplug to the wacky inventor.

When Sparkplug got to the lab he could see it was locked, so he knocked and hoped Wheeljack could hear him over whatever tools were whirring and grinding in there. At first there was no answer, so Sparkplug knocked again. This time the door opened and the human stepped inside.

Wheeljack waved at his small friend with the hand that was holding a blowtorch, and then turned back to whatever machine he was fiddling with at the moment.

"Hey Wheeljack, what'cha working on?" Sparkplug asked casually.

"A new security system for the Ark," Wheeljack replied excitedly, "I've been in here for two- oh wait, three days. I haven't refueled or recharged, and I won't until this is done. Once I'm finished, nothing will break into Autobot Headquarters! Hahaha!"

"Uhh, I think you need some sleep, Jackie," Sparkplug suggested, "You're starting to sound a little loopy."

"I can't sleep. They're all just standing around twiddling their digits, and someone has to look out for us," Wheeljack insisted, "When I attach these interconnected wires and diodes on the ship, no one will be able to hurt us. If a Decepticon touches the wires, they'll be shocked into stasis lock! After that I'll use the second part of my security system to sweep them away from us and down the mountain below!"

"Did you say sweep them away?" Sparkplug asked quizzically.

"Yeah. I got the idea from your broom and dustpan," Wheeljack said with an innocent smile in his optics, "The sweeper will be bigger than Omega Supreme, and stronger than a combiner! I thought about giving it a personality, but then I would have to name it. I mean, what do you even call a giant broom and dustpan machine?"

"I think the real question is why do you need something that big?" Sparkplug chuckled, "You trying to sweep Devastator off the premises?"

"Something like that," Wheeljack replied vaguely, "Listen Sparkplug, you're a father. I wanna ask you something about raising kids."

"Sure, ask away," Sparkplug replied jovially, always happy to talk about his son.

"Well, Spike is getting older, and he's a pretty capable young man," Wheeljack began almost bashfully, "He's even worked with Bumblebee to take down Decepticons before. I guess what I want to ask is, when Spike thinks he can handle something, but you know he can't, how do you get him to not do the thing that might hurt him?"

"Spike's a smart kid. I trust him," Sparkplug replied fondly, "And if he ever does do something stupid, then he has to fail on his own. Either he fails and never does the stupid thing again, or he fails and he finds a smarter way to do it. I know my way isn't perfect, but at least Spike knows he can come to me if he needs my help. I won't yell at him for failing, but I won't stop him from failing either. He has to learn how life really works."

"I've always felt that way too," Wheeljack told him.

"You have kids?" Sparkplug asked curiously.

"Yeah, the Dinobots," Wheeljack reminded him, and Sparkplug simpered sheepishly.

"Sorry," Sparkplug said with a wince, "I forgot building them is similar to procreation for you guys."

"It's okay. I know they don't look like typical sparklings," Wheeljack excused his friend, "The thing is, they were specifically built to fight. They can handle anything, or at least that was my intention. The problem is now I worry that there might come a day when they can't handle something, and I don't know how to tell them when to stop. I feel like I've been too soft on them. I couldn't help it though. They're more than just inventions to me. As cliche as it sounds, they're my family. Everyone treats them like disposable screw-ups, and I guess I overcompensated by spoiling them. Now though, I'm worried. What if I raised them wrong? What if they think they're invincible when they're not? What if...what if they break because I built something wrong? I don't know what I was thinking; creating life. I'm an idiot."

"No you're not," Sparkplug reassured him, "You're just a normal parent. As dads it's our job to worry about our kids. It just means you care. Don't worry though, you and Ratchet built them fine, and they can handle the Decepticons. Just trust them and let time take care of the rest. Now, do you want some help with that machine?"

"No, I actually think I should get some energon," Wheeljack replied timidly, his tiredness and hunger catching up with him, "You wanna join me?"

"Sure. I packed a ham sandwich," Sparkplug shrugged goodnaturedly, "Maybe we can hear some gossip about Prowl's manhunt."

"Yeah, I heard about Mirage. I'm glad he didn't do it," Wheeljack replied as he followed Sparkplug out of the lab, "Frankly I can't picture any of our comrades doing something like working for Megatron. Megatron's a jerk. Oh by the way, do you think adding a klaxon in my electric shock wires would be overkill?"

Sparkplug chuckled and shook his head at that ridiculous question. Everything Wheeljack did was overkill, so why should this be any different?

Prowl entered the security room to see Inferno trying to repair two monitors on the floor. Inferno wasn't the handiest of mechs, so he was just making a bigger mess by trying to fix the broken screens.

"Let me guess," Prowl began dourly, "Those monitors went to the security feed in this room."

"Yeah," Inferno sighed, "Red didn't want you spyin' on him so he tore them apart. I can't believe he did this in the middle of the night like some common vandal."

"Have you seen Red Alert?" Prowl asked point blank.

"Yeah, he went to the engine room," Inferno replied, "He'll be back in a breem or two. He said he thought he saw the twins doing something suspicious. He's sure fired up about bein' the one to catch the traitor. I think his pride got hurt when Prime didn't assign him to work with you and yet allowed me to. He barely talks to me now. Thinks I'm stealing his job. He'll get over it once the investigation is over."

"That might be a while," Prowl told him, "I'm running out of leads and don't have the slightest clue who it could be. Red Alert is actually one of my suspects, but I don't have any concrete evidence to say for sure he was in on it. I have other suspects as well, but again, nothing definite. I feel like I'm missing something. Some clue that would explain everything. Normally getting into the processor of the criminal can help me capture him, but I don't understand why anyone would betray the Autobots over something as trivial as a new Decepticon."

"New Decepticon?" Inferno asked curiously, "I heard new Autobots were coming to earth, but I didn't hear nothin' about new 'Cons."

"Ultra Magnus will debrief us when he gets here," Prowl stated, "I also don't know anything about them except the name of one of them; Trypticon. Does that name mean anything to you?"

"No, I can't say it does," Inferno shrugged, "Well, okay, so you don't know who it is, and you'll likely have no arrest by the time Magnus's team gets here. Yep, that's a problem alright. Now, you said an officer was most likely the culprit when you recruited me. Name off every officer again except yourself."

"Jazz, Red Alert, Perceptor, Ratchet, Ironhide, Wheeljack, and Blaster," Prowl recited, "The only one I've been able to eliminate is Ironhide. I don't suspect all of them, but there are a few that definitely stand out."

"Maybe that's your problem," Inferno suggested, "Maybe you're too focused on the ones you think did it. Maybe the mole is someone you overlooked. I'm gonna name each officer one by one, and you tell me if they had a motive or not."

"If you think that will help, then alright," Prowl agreed.

"Blaster," Inferno started.

"Hm...motive...he and his four cassettes are rivals with Soundwave and his brood," Prowl mused, "That would make them unlikely traitors. As communications officer he would have the means-"

"Not means, motive," Inferno reminded him.

"Then I can think of nothing," Prowl replied, "Optimus hates his music, but that's hardly a motive for treason."

"Alright then. What about Ironhide?" Inferno asked.

"He is Optimus Prime's oldest friend," Prowl noted, "I doubt there is anything the Decepticons could offer him that would make him betray his principles."

"Then what about Jazz?" Inferno continued.

"The most likely motive is power, but that hardly seems plausible," Prowl replied, "Jazz is TIC here. The only two mechs higher than him are myself and Prime. Of course that could change once Ultra Magnus gets here, and Jazz of all people would have ways of knowing about that in advance...hm, it's far fetched, but it is a possibility. Jazz is still on the list."

"And Perceptor?" Inferno asked.

"He is a suspect," Prowl replied simply, "He has aided Megatron in the past and has displayed a disdain for Prime's choices regarding battle tactics. He has motive."

"Ratchet?" Inferno asked.

"Ratchet..." Prowl had to think on this one. He hated to admit it, but Ratchet as a serious suspect never even crossed his mind.

"Well?" Inferno prodded.

"The only way I could see Ratchet being seduced to hand over information to the Decepticons is if Megatron promised an end to the war," Prowl concluded, "Of course I doubt Ratchet is actually foolish enough to believe Megatron, but if he felt like there was even the slightest chance...I don't know how he would react."

"So that's two suspects," Inferno nodded, "What about Red Alert?"

"Are you just going in alphabetical order?" Prowl inquired.

"Well...yeah," Inferno confessed, "It was the easiest way to keep track of the suspects."

"Very well then," Prowl replied longsufferingly, "Red Alert is a suspect because as security chief he had the means-"

"Prowl," Inferno chided him, "We'll get to means later. First tell me what you think his motive might be."

"I know Red Alert is your friend," Prowl continued as diplomatically as he could, "However, I have noted that the traitor is afraid of a currently unknown Decepticon named Trypticon. Red Alert is a paranoid and fearful mech, and has a history of working with Starscream; Megatron's second in command. If Red Alert were to believe his own life was in danger or that the Autobots had done something against him, I could see him betraying us to be with the Decepticons."

"Red's not a bad guy," Inferno lamented, "He just has some processor issues. If he did do it, and I'm not so sure he did, then it could've been when he was having a paranoid episode."

"That is possible. I won't rule anything out," Prowl told him.

"So, what about Wheeljack?" Inferno concluded.

"Wheeljack invented the ionic destabilizer. I doubt he would steal his own invention and give it to someone else," Prowl reasoned, "Besides, unlike Perceptor and Red Alert, Wheeljack has no history with working for Decepticons. Neither does Ratchet, or Jazz, or Ironhide, or Blaster. That just leaves two likely suspects."

"What about Skyfire?" Inferno suggested, "If we're just talking about motive, then Skyfire has the most motive of anyone here. He was once Starscream's best friend. When we met him he was a Decepticon. Maybe he misses his friend and wanted to give away our secrets to prove he was worthy of joining Megatron again."

"That scenario is unlikely," Prowl deduced, "Skyfire's beliefs differ greatly from the Decepticons. I doubt he could overlook their murderous tendencies for his own personal gain, even if it meant regaining a friendship he had lost. Besides, now that we've discussed motive, let's discuss means. Skyfire has no way of determining the combination of the vault where the ionic destabilizer is kept, nor did he have a way of knowing we even had such an invention. The senior staff has been my point of focus because they would be most likely to have the ability and opportunity to open the vault. Everyone we mentioned except Skyfire could have given the Decepticons the code. Red Alert especially would be able to coordinate such a thing since he can see what everyone is doing from this room."

"So, I guess your mind's made up," Inferno said with a hint of sadness, "You think Red is guilty. You gonna arrest him?"

"Not without proof," Prowl replied stoically despite Inferno's defensiveness, "I know things look bad for Red Alert, but I will not make the same mistake I made with Mirage. I will not throw anyone in the brig until I know for sure I have the right individual."

As Prowl and Inferno spoke about this, Red Alert was on the other side of the door listening in. He knew Prowl thought he was a suspect now, and he knew Inferno had been in on it the whole time. Red wasn't about to stick around and take this level of disrespect. He might get in trouble for it later, but he had to get out of the Ark as quickly as possible. He needed some room to think about his next move.

Several hours later Optimus received the comm that Metroplex and the Autobot crew had landed in the field the Autobots had requested from the United States government for their city-former. Spike and Sparkplug were amazed that the state of Oregon had been so accommodating for Metroplex, and had even deemed the small area of land as a new city on the map. Unfortunately, they didn't get the memo that the city's name was Metroplex, so the charter listed the area as Autobot City.

"I can't believe I'll get to see Hot Rod, Springer, and Arcee again," Bumblebee said excitedly to his two human passengers Spike and Carly, "We were all in scout training together. Hot Rod got all the highest scores for weapons training, but I was always top of my class in espionage. I wonder if Arcee is still as pretty as I remember."

"You said that Arcee was a girl?" Carly asked for clarification, "I'm surprised Autobots even have women. I mean, you're all robots, right?"

"We're mechanical beings, but we're still alive," Bumblebee replied as if it should be obvious, "Vector Sigma is the main way we reproduce, but there is a small percentage of our population that can make more sparks. These are known as femmes, which is your equivalent to a female. There aren't that many left, so I was really happy to hear Arcee is still out there holding her own."

"What's Springer like?" Spike asked curiously.

"He's tough as they come, but also a really nice guy," Bumblebee replied, "I think he and Arcee have a thing for each other, but I never asked. It'll also be cool to meet Kup and Ultra Magnus. I hear Ultra Magnus is one of Prime's best friends, and Ironhide told me he and Kup used to go on missions to protect alien planets from Decepticons together."

"Wow, that sounds so cool," Spike replied in awe, "I hope I can explore alien planets someday."

The trio drove to the meeting site while chatting away about the new Autobots on earth. Bumblebee had trouble keeping up with the convoy because he kept getting lost in his own thoughts. It was a small group since most Autobots still weren't allowed to leave the Ark. The only ones Prowl had cleared were Optimus Prime, Ironhide, Bumblebee, Mirage, Inferno, and because they didn't live in the Ark, the Protectobots.

When they made it to the landing area, Metroplex had already landed and had just opened his door for the Autobots to get out and see the planet they would be protecting from the Decepticons. Spike and Carly stuck their heads out of Bumblebee's open windows to see what they could see of the newcomers and the city-former.

Metroplex of course was huge, and was a shiny silver color. It looked like one of those cities of the future at the Epcot Center, if none of the exhibits were painted. Ultra Magnus of course was large and imposing with broad shoulder guards, blue and orange paint, and a blue visor that reflected in the sun. There was also a green helicopter-former, a pink feminine looking robot (Arcee, clearly), a sea green mech smoking what looked like a cigar, a smaller jet looking mech with shades of blue orange and white paint, and a flashy mech with flames painted on his red frame. In short, these guys looked impressive.

The human couple got out of Bumblebee so that he could transform along with the rest of the Autobots, and Optimus walked straight up to Ultra Magnus.

"I am glad to see you all made it here safely," Optimus greeted the unit commander, "Did the Decepticons give you any trouble along the way?"

"No, but Blurr got sick during reentry," Ultra Magnus replied wryly, "He's over there leaning over the edge of Metroplex purging his circuits out."

Spike and Carly looked up to see a blue mech throwing up purple liquid over the wall of the city-former, and Spike couldn't help but feel just as sorry for Metroplex as he felt for Blurr.

"Ironhide!" Kup shouted jovially when he saw his old friend, "How've you been, you son of a cyberhound?"

"Better than you look, you old turbofox," Ironhide jabbed goodnaturedly at his friend, "Pit, it's good to see you. Now the 'Cons don't stand a chance."

"Did they ever?" Kup asked cheekily.

"Um, excuse me, Prime?" The jet called for Optimus's attention, "Excuse me, my designation is Brainstorm. I heard that Perceptor and Wheeljack were among your crew. I'm an old friend of theirs and was wondering when they would be arriving."

"I'm afraid they couldn't join us on the trip here," Optimus replied regretfully, "However, all of you are invited to the Ark for a welcome to earth party in the rec room. We'll be serving energon and everyone will be there to greet you all. I'm sure you will have plenty of time to catch up with your friends then."

"Oh, wonderful!" Brainstorm exclaimed happily, "Wheeljack and I have known each other our entire lives. I can't wait to see him again. I've invented so many new things since we last spoke, and I'm sure he has many theories to discuss with me as well. It will also be good to see Perceptor. That mech saved my life."

"Oh? How'd he do that?" Hot Spot, the Protectobot leader, asked.

"He kept me out of Simfur," Brainstorm replied, "Oh, the suspense is killing me! Ultra Magnus sir, permission to leave now?"

"Yeah, let's go to the party already!" Hot Rod seconded the motion.

With all the young mechs (and some of the older ones) clamoring for the chance for energon and entertainment, Optimus and Ultra Magnus had no choice but to concede and go to the Ark. They said goodbye to Metroplex and promised to bring him back some energon, and then everyone drove back to the Ark.

Even when they got back to the Ark everyone was still talking. The group transformed back into robot mode in the hangar and discussed plans for the future. It was the most hopeful Ultra Magnus and his crew had felt in vorns, and the appeal of earth was already obvious. Everything was so peaceful and the weather was so warm. It felt like the new crew had stepped into some organic paradise.

The first member of Prime's crew to see everyone coming in was Ratchet, and since he knew Ultra Magnus he couldn't wait to see him.

"Ultra Magnus, I see you managed to avoid getting scrapped without me to look after you," Ratchet joked.

"Yes, somehow we managed," Ultra Magnus replied with dry humor, "It is good to see you again. Could you tell Brainstorm where the lab is? He won't rest until he gets to see his old friends Wheeljack and Perceptor."

"You knew them from before the war?" Ratchet asked in surprise.

"Indeed I did," Brainstorm replied joyfully, "Two finer processors Cybertron has never seen. I'm especially eager to see Wheeljack. He's my oldest and dearest friend, and I'm...I'm worried he might be angry with me. I want to see him to make sure nothing is sour between us. We had a bit of a falling out before Simfur, and I didn't know he had survived until now. I'm hoping we can put the past behind us, and that we can begin our friendship anew. I even brought an old photo cube from when we were sparklings. He'll be so happy I preserved it."

"I'm sure he will," Ratchet said with a warmth he rarely showed, "I've always wondered what he was like before Simfur destroyed his dreams and his career."

As the new group spoke with the old group there was a certain mech hiding behind the walls of the adjacent doorway. Wheeljack saw Brainstorm speaking animatedly to Ratchet, and he could only think of one thing...he couldn't be left in the same room with that mech.

The Dinobots had heard there was a party being held in the rec room, but they weren't allowed to attend right away. Optimus had said that the newcomers should be allowed to meet everyone at their own pace, whatever that meant, and that they could come a little later to the party when everyone was already in a good mood. Grimlock knew what that really meant though. Prime was embarrassed by them, and he didn't want them to upset the fancy new guests at their fancy party.

"Me Slag bored!" Slag complained from where he was laying on the floor in triceratops mode, "Me want to go party!"

"Me Sludge bored too..." Sludge groaned from beside their energon dispenser, "Me want to meet new people."

"We Dinobots not supposed to leave," Swoop reminded them, "We can go to party later. For now we Dinobots just do something else."

"Like what?" Slag snapped irritably, "Me Slag bored!"

Just then, their door suddenly opened, and standing in the doorway was-

"WHEELJACK!" Every Dinobot screamed happily before they collectively tackled their sire.

"Whaaa!" Wheeljack yelled before he fell to the ground with several tons of Dinobot on top of him, "Ow...that hurt. Okay guys, get off. We gotta go."

"We go to party now?" Grimlock asked eagerly.

"No guys, we're gonna go someplace even better!" Wheeljack exclaimed as Snarl helped him stand up, "We're gonna go far away, to a wonderful new place. A place where people like us can do whatever we want and no one will judge us ever again."

"We go to carnival?" Grimlock asked excitedly.

"We go to lumberyard?" Slag guessed.

"Maybe we go to farm upstate like in movie," Sludge suggested.

"That was metaphor for death, dummy," Snarl told his brother in a snide tone.

"Maybe we go to Bedrock," Sludge tried again, "Like in The Flintstones."

"Hey, when we've got each other, every place is Bedrock," Wheeljack assured his sons, "We've just gotta leave quietly. We don't want the partygoers to be jealous that we're going someplace better."

Grimlock nodded solemnly at the secret they were keeping with their sire. With the Dinobots on board, Wheeljack led the way down the hall. Soon they would be out of the Ark and into the wide blue yonder. Unfortunately, Wheeljack didn't actually have a plan for where they would go once they were out. He only knew that they had to leave quickly. Now that Brainstorm was on board the ship, Wheeljack was living on borrowed time.

The party raged on for an hour with no sign of Wheeljack. Perceptor, Ratchet, and Brainstorm had been engaged in riveting conversation about the best methods for treating a wound that threatened to penetrate the spark, but after several minutes of going over the same talking point Brainstorm finally had to ask-

"Is Wheeljack coming soon? I thought he knew I was here."

"I'm sure he's just busy, that's all," Perceptor replied comfortingly, "You know how it is when one gets in the zone and time loses all meaning. I'm sure he'll be along."

"Hey, you said you had some holo-photos of the two of you together. Why not show us those?" Ratchet suggested, "I for one think it would be funny to see what a sparkling Wheeljack looked like."

"Alright," Brainstorm replied agreeably, "Of course most of these pictures are from our academy days, both as students and professors."

Brainstorm then projected the first holo-image, a camping trip that had been taken by their entire biology class that vorn.

"See, there I am in the front row," Brainstorm showed them, "My face mask was a little crooked because I thought it looked cool back then. I was such a dork when I was a youngling."

"Where's Wheeljack?" Perceptor asked.

"Oh, he's right next to me on the right. You can tell because his helm wires are getting all over Quarantine's face! Hah!" Brainstorm laughed at the image, but Ratchet and Perceptor weren't laughing.

"That's not Wheeljack," Ratchet declared as he stared down at the image.

"Of course it is," Brainstorm contested, "Here's a closer image of when he won an award for outstanding achievements in quantum mechanics. This image was in several news articles."

The closer image was the same mech from the previous photo, but it looked about as much like Wheeljack as Ratchet resembled a human supermodel. This mech was a minobot, more or less. He was dark blue and grey colored, had bulging blue optics with silver rims, blue glowing wire follicles all over his helm, and large flat dental plates. This mech looked unattractive, yet very much like an upper caste mech. His armor was shiny yet wouldn't hold up to any sort of pressure, his servos looked delicate and small, his pedes were curved upward, and his demeanor seemed jittery yet serious. In short, this did not look like Wheeljack.

"Who is this mech?" Perceptor asked in puzzlement.

"I told you, that's Wheeljack," Brainstorm replied defensively, "How could you not recognize someone you've spent millions of stellar cycles with?"

"Brainstorm, there has to be a mistake," Ratchet insisted, "Not only is that not Wheeljack, but there's no way that was ever Wheeljack. The mech we know could have never looked like this mech in the picture. The frame is all wrong, as is the height and width. This guy doesn't even look like he transforms into a car."

"He didn't," Brainstorm replied, a growing sense of unease in the pit of his tank, "He transformed into a supercomputer. Why would a scientist in the Golden Age need wheels?"

Ratchet and Perceptor looked at each other, at a loss for what this could mean. Brainstorm, a mech that claimed he knew Wheeljack better than anyone, insisted that a stranger was their longtime friend. That couldn't be right, yet by the same token it couldn't be wrong. The proof was right there. That strange looking upper caste mech was the formerly famous theorist and inventor Wheeljack. So then, if that guy was Wheeljack, then what was going on?

Before their question could be answered or even asked, there was a comm sent out on all frequencies.

/Attention Ark crew,/ Prowl intoned through the comm, /Red Alert has violated Autobot sanction 42/8 Delta and escaped the ship during a routine investigation. Red Alert is now classified as MIA. Repeat, Red Alert is MIA./