Ark barely resisted growling in annoyance. Instead, she settled for merely pressing her thin lips together in an effort to prevent herself from snapping at a certain doctor. She tried to force herself to focus on the list in front of her, though the lines that were supposed to form words made no sense as her processor could only focus on Knock Out's needless pratling.
Finally, she turned to stare at him, optics narrowed as her servos gripped the edge of the desk. "Do you mind?"
Knock Out stopped and eyed her warily. With barely a sound, she turned back to focus on the screen that was demanding her attention. Her tense shoulders relaxed slightly as she scanned the list of names and occupations, expression never changing to betray her emotions.
"Well, maybe I could assist you if you would just tell me what you were looking for," Knock Out huffed. He leaned over her shoulder, closer than was needed, to look at the screen. "I assumed we were looking into deformed servo wielding mechs and femmes."
"We are," she stated, optics not leaving the screen.
Knock Out frowned and leaned in closer. "Since when did Ultra Magnus and Makeshift become deformed servo wielding mechs?"
"Ultra Magnus oversaw the preparations for the tragic hunt," Ark answered. "Makeshift was supposed to be one of the escorts, but he was called away at the last minute to attend to matters within the court."
Knock Out sniffed. "Alright, that might be suspicious. But it's stretching it a bit, don't you think?"
"I think it is worth looking into," she replied.
"Okay," he drawled. "But what does any of this have to do with deformed servo wielding mechs?"
"It has a lot more to do with the hunt," she stated. "Just as you had said, it would be best to look into those who organized, planned and provided for the hunt." She glanced at him. "It was quite a clever point, if I should admit."
Just as she had expected, Knock Out puffed up with pride. "Well, it was a spot on, if not obvious, suggestion." He then, surprisingly, deflated. "But dozens, if not hundreds of Cybertronians! And you are planning to look through all of them?"
"It is much simpler, and a smaller search then looking for deformed Cybertronians," she answered. "Do you want to know what the exact number of such Cybertronians fits the bill? Four billion, fourteen million, twenty-eight thousand and two hundred and twenty nine mechs and femmes."
Knock Out gaped. "Where did you get such a number like that?" he demanded.
"Soundwave," she answered simply. "I did as Arcee asked, spoke with Soundwave, and he worked incredibly fast for me. The files are sitting over there." She nodded tho them. "You are more then welcome to look through each and everyone of them."
Knock Out grimaced. "Nah, maybe later." He looked back at the screen she was scanning. "Even if this list is smaller," he started. "How do you plan on connecting any of these Cybertronians to the attack?"
"I follow the money trail and the communication systems," she answered. "As of now, I am looking over the credits of Thundercracker." She paused. "He likes to gamble, and so far, I have yet to see a connection between the money he has lost to the attack performed by terrorists."
"So I guess you do not need me-" Knock Out started.
"Performing a background check would be helpful," she interjected, holding up a datapad for him to receive without looking away from the screen. "It would save me time, and give you something to do."
Knock Out huffed in obvious annoyance, but he received the datapad. Marching over to a desk closer to hers, he plopped down in the chair, his expression bored as he activated the datapad.
Just when she had gotten used to the two hours of silence, Knock Out groaned and shattered the bliss she had taken for granted. "You know," he said, folding his arms casually. "There is some interesting stuff in here."
"If you have anything to share, then by all means, please do share it," she said, unable to keep the bite out of her tone.
"Oh, I have plenty to share," he said lightly. "For instance, there are plenty of mechs on this list who had considerable influence during the Great War."
Her optics flickered over to him with interest. She nodded her helm slightly, signaling for him to continue.
"But that would not matter so much, as it could have been anyone who was responsible for the attack," he said, rising up. "But, not one mech or femme was just 'responsible' for the attack. It had to be a team effort, with someone who had extreme influence in power."
"That does not eliminate anyone on the list," she pointed out.
"Yet you said to follow the money trail," Knock Out pointed out, leaning over her shoulder and scrolling through the list. After a few clicks, the list changed slightly. "You cannot just follow the money trail to one event, you need to connect it to all events that have a connection. For instance, the terrorist attacks."
Ark focused on the list with a raised optic ridge, skeptical.
"One of the most famous terrorists is Dirge," he continued. He shrugged. "Never met him personally, but he was a strong Decepticon soldier, if a little on the fragile side in the processor if you know what I mean. Anyway, how is it that he is able to launch these attacks with such elaborate weapons? Someone is supplying him with the weapons and the money."
"Which could be anyone," she repeated.
"But not all of them have connections to both Autobots and Decepticons." Here, he clicked on the list once more, changing it again.
She narrowed her optics. "What do you mean?"
He shot her a crooked grin. "My dear, in any war, you have double agents. Surely you are aware of that."
"I am aware of that," she replied, her face blank and hiding her true emotions. "But it is classified to me, as it is to everyone else. It was decided that both sides would not divulge the names and information of their double agents for the sake of the spies and their families."
"Yes, they were given freedom," he agreed. "But is it really freedom if you are constantly under surveillance? They may have escaped from the threat of death, or possible harsh judgment some might inflict on them. But it was at a price. Records of every single spy is kept in a within easy reach for both sides. But Optimus Prime will not know who betrayed him during the war for the side of the Decepticons, and the same for Megatron."
She leaned back slightly in her seat. "All that I am aware of," she said. 'What are you getting at?"
"Has it ever occured to you that I am a war veteran myself?" he asked sarcastically.
She stayed silent.
"What I am saying is that I am aware of all of them forbidden secrets, and while I am not allowed to offer you any information on the classified files, I can provide you with a list of Cybertronians that I personally despise, and those who just plain out stink of treasom."
Her optics focused on the list that had shrunk considerably. Her mouth twitched with barely contained pleasure. Yes, her job had gotten a whole lot easier.
"Is that a smile I see?" Knock Out teased, obviously proud of himself.
She leaned forward, overlooking the list. "Well doctor," she said. "Let us look at what you have supplied us with."
The next twenty minutes were spent with her and Knock Out pouring over the history of the mechs and femmes that were left on the list. Ark felt her optics beginning to throb from the strain of staring at the screen for so long. She blinked, pushing past the discomfort.
"If there was anyone who I'd bet my credits on being involved in the attack," KnockOut commented. "I would say StarDust."
Ark did not even look up from her work. "And why is that?"
"I suspect that she is involved in a cult dedicated to Unicron," Knock Out stated. "I never liked her, and I always listen to my first instinct. Some of the rituals she performs are downright disturbing."
"She dabbles, but she is not an agent of Unicron," Ark said simply.
Knock Out frowned. "Oh? And how would you know?"
"Star Dust, if she continues to do so, will eventually become one of Unicron's slaves, an 'agent' as they are called. But she is not at that stage yet. I would suggest Megatron do something about her before she continues her dangerous practices."
Knock Out leaned forward with interest. "How would you know that?" When she glanced up at him, he shrugged. "I could always go through your files and see for myself what you are not sharing."
She turned back to her work, a small frown on her face. "I was once under the apprenticeship of a femme named Angela. She, unlike StarDust, was an agent of Unicron during the war. Megatron had contact with her guild, but had no use for them and their ways. I was but a youngling when the war ended and I was taken away. Megatron remembered me, or rather, someone had, and they took me in. Though their methods of 'raising' were not so different from Angela and her Unicron guild. But at least I would not have the Chaos Bringer in my helm and using me as a host."
Knock Out leaned back in his seat. "So, how old are you exactly?"
"I still look young enough to fraternize with Arcee's age group," she stated casually, her clipped tone implying that she did not want to continue with the conversation.
"So, we just need to look at mechs and femmes with damaged, clawed servos," Knock Out commented lightly.
She frowned. "Maybe," she muttered.
She could feel Knock Out's sharp gaze on her. "You sound convinced."
"I am not thoroughly convinced that the ones responsible for the attack during the hunt are even Cybertronian," he confessed.
Knock Out leaned forward. "You think it was outside help, like another alien species?"
She shrugged slightly. "Possible." She glanced up. "It was something Arcee had said. She had been the first through the ground bridge during the attack, and the mech she spoke with mentioned fire, claws." She paused. "Beasts."
"Delusional ranting before death," Knock Out said. "Happens all the time."
She focused on him sharply, optics narrowed as she watched how his datapad was suddenly interesting to him. He was hunched over, as if he wanted to go unseen.
Suspicious behavior indicating one had something to hide.
"What else are you not telling me?" she asked.
He hesitated. "Now, helping you cut down a list of possible traitors is one thing. But this is top secret information. I can lose my helm for even divulging such a secret."
She crossed her legs. "Then where can I find such information?"
"Why not just ask someone else who might actually get away with telling you what I can't?" he asked. He nodded his helm towards the closed doors. "One such mech is a few steps away, even as we speak."
She arose from her seat. "Then it might be best to seek some answers." She strode forward with determined steps, hearing Knock Out following her. She pressed her servo on the door, pushing it open as she entered the dim room that was surrounded by datawork and electronic network.
Ark's mouth was open to speak, but she stopped when she took in Soundwave's hunched over form, the sound of a frantic voice screeching through the comm link system.
"Daddy!" a voice screamed, causing even Ark to cringe at the pitch. "Remember those top secret beasts we were not supposed to talk about? Well, they are not staying secret! One of them is carrying Arcee and the mean green femme who tried to shot me away-"
The voice was cut off as Soundwave locked onto the coordinates, his visor lighting up as a ground bridge opened up before him. Ark was already leaping into action, blaster out. Regardless if Soundwave wanted her to come, he could not stop her. She was tasked with protecting Arcee, it was what she was trained for. And right now, her charge was in danger. "Doctor," she started, addressing KnockOut.
The sound of a buzzsaw activating caught her attention, and she turned to look at Knock Out who was wielding his weapons with a smirk of delight. "Slice and dice," he said with glee. "Let us go collect some pretty appendages."
Bumblebee watched as Firestar rested not to far away from him. Her large, predacon helm rested in the dirt, her optics half closed. Yet, despite the fact that she said and did nothing, he could feel the despair washing over her. Even though she had fought tooth and claw against the captors and was the most vocal with what she intended to do to them, she was still like him and Smokescreen: vulnerable and seeking refuge.
She would find that in her fellow prisoners, that he would ensure.
He approached her slowly, curling up right next to her under the shadow of the looming walls of rock that was slowly becoming home. He said nothing to her, only offering her comfort with his very presence.
The sound of armor shifting caught his attention, and he witnessed Firestar transform back into her Cybertronian form. Her armor and frame was larger and more beast like, yet her likeness still stayed the same. If anything, he would have thought she had received an upgrade and a darker, red paint job if he had not known any better.
She looked up at him with blue optics that were sparking. "Transform, please," she said. "I cannot speak to you in such a form."
It was on the tip of his tongue to protest, to inform her that he could not. That after three days, he still could not transform back into a mech. Yet the look in Firestar's optics told him that she would not accept excuses.
He released a slow breath, flapping his wings slightly. He sat back, willing his armor to transform. To his immense relief, he felt his armor shift and form back once more into the familiar shape of his Cybertronian being. He glanced down at his slightly clawed servos with open optic happiness.
"It was the stress of the past events that prevented you from transforming," Firestar said as she slid down to the ground, sitting down in the dirt. She pulled her knees up to her chassis as Bumblebee sat across from her.
"I am glad you are here, despite the circumstances," she said finally.
His mouth twitched. "Me too."
"Where have the others gone?" she asked. It took him a brief moment to realize that she was asking about the two predacons, Skylynx and Darksteel.
He shrugged. "Something about a cortical psychic patch."
She frowned, interested. "A cortical psychic patch has not been found since the beginning of the war."
"Well," he said. "You know the Decepticons. Never one to stop tampering with the forbidden." His mouth twitched slightly, his mind going to Arcee and her boldness. "I would not be surprised if they have one already."
"First the Key to Vector Sigma, now a cortical psychic patch," she mused thoughtfully.
Bumblebee suddenly went stiff, and he and Firestar locked optics. It was with her panicked look that he knew she had reached the same conclusion as he. If Antagony, this femme who was holding them prisoner, actually got her servos on a cortical psychic patch, then she could pluck from all their processors all the information they had. Vast amounts of secrets and personal information would be found, including the Key to Vector Sigma.
In that moment, he could feel his very life line straining. He squeezed his optics shut, spark pulsing with terror as he realized what was coming.
"They think that out of the three of us," Firestar said. "That one of us is the Autobot Heir."
He nodded. "I know." It was almost hard to form the words.
"I've got you back," she said.
"As I have yours and Smokes," he answered confidently. Whatever happened, he would defend them, no matter the cost.
The sound of steel doors opening drew both of their attentions. As they looked up, Bumblebee's optics flickered over to watch as Predaking arose with vague interest, though from the way his tail curled, it could have been dread or hostility he was feeling.
"What's going on?" Firestar asked, rising up into a wary, crouched position.
Bumblebee followed after her, also rising up as his servos curled into fists. Whatever they were about to encounter, he knew they would be unable to fight, but that did not mean he would not try to defend himself or his friends.
"My beloved creations!" a familiar and unwelcomed voice proclaimed. Bumblebee stiffened up while Firestar growled.
"I have a little mission for you!" Antagony chirped, striding forward with an air of cockiness. "It appears that your senor brothers have gotten themselves in a mess, and I am sending three of you to clean it up!"
Bumblebee blinked. She could not mean…? Was she really sending them out? His spark hammered with excitement at the thought of escaping.
"Of course, I have to update two of you with your shots." Here, she giggled. It was then Bumblebee noticed two small, silver disks in her servo. "This will ensure that we will never be separated. I can hear everything you hear. I can also discipline you if you if you need to be corrected." She pouted as she approached Smokescreen who was still in his predacon form. "You won't need to be corrected, right?" she crooned, reaching up to stroke Smokescreen's neck.
Smokescreen recoiled back as she snapped the device on his neck, a blue light activating. With a satisfied nod, Antagony turned her gaze on Bumblebee and Firestar.
"Whatever happens," Firestar hissed as the other femme approached them. "Do not hesitate to escape. Forget about what you leave behind. Escape when you can."
"Darling," Antagony crooned as she stood before them. "You will always come back home. There is no need to escape." She frowned. "But because you tried to encourage your brother to go against my wishes and break up the family, you will stay for some discipline, and he will go." With that, she slapped the device on Bumblebee's neck, right over his voice box, causing him to choke. Whatever he had hoped for in escaping was literally choked out of him with that very device stuck to him.
"There!" Antagony chirped gleefully. "Now, follow King, and aid your brothers in their peril. Show no mercy, leave nothing left of your victims." Her optics hardened as a smile of deviousness slid across her face. "Rain fire from the sky!"