22. Spy

The Autobots seemed content to lick their wounds, so we fortified our borders and focused on reconstruction. I drew on the logistical expertise of Shockwave, who knew well how to manage Kaon and the surrounding Decepticon states during wartime.

The Constructicons proved their worth repairing our soldiers and rebuilding our city. I finally relaxed, now that one attack by the Autobots wouldn't wipe us out. While I wasn't overseeing construction, I learned battleground strategy from Trannis. We spent orbits battling with holographic armies, Trannis constantly changing variables such as terrain and number of combatants, leading me to realize just how much I had yet to learn.

I spent orns in the Archives, immersed in the memory of some battle or another, seeing how Megatron had moved his troops, how Optimus had responded, how it had ended. I tried putting this to practical use in my sessions with Trannis, finding out what worked and what didn't. The Archivist directed me to whatever I was looking for with ease. I asked around about him, but most of those I asked just shrugged.

"He was here before me," Trannis answered. "Ask someone who was here at the beginning. Starscream or Soundwave might know."

But when I asked Starscream, he directed me to Soundwave, and when I asked Soundwave, he was silent for a time.

"Origin: unknown. Archives: predate War."

Soundwave continued his search for the Autobot spy, moving to the officers just below the High Command—a rank which included Skywarp (technically Starscream's lieutenant) and Ramrod (Trannis's lieutenant following the disaster at Praxus)—and declaring them loyal as well.

I continued my training with Ramrod, still losing much of the time. It was frustrating to be defeated again and again, though once as I lay dented and panting on the floor, he commented, "You're definitely improving."

"It feels like my dents are getting deeper."

"That's because I have to hit you harder now."

"Slagger!"

"I'm serious. You're getting better, really." He reached down to help me up. I took his wrist and tugged hard, kicking his ankles from under him at the same time. He toppled with a yelp, landing next to me. "You brat! What was that for?"

"Payback."

He laughed. "I deserved that."

"If I'm getting better, why can't I win?"

"I know your moves. Trust me, if I were anyone else, you'd have me every time."

I left Ramrod to go see Soundwave about his progress, but he hadn't made much. We knew it was a groundling, but there were no leads.

"Is there any way to narrow the search pattern?" I asked him. "The longer this takes, the more dangerous it gets. This spy can get information to the Autobots. He can do anything as long as he remains undetected."

"Understood. Effort: maximum."

I returned to my quarters to find a fresh supply of energon. I took one of the new cubes and retreated to my berth, fetching a report from Hook and reading through it as I refueled. It had been a long orn, full of logistics and dents, and this report wasn't hugely important, and I felt the barest beginnings of an ache in my processor…

I onlined sluggishly, systems booting up one by one. Alerts blinked from most of my processes. My chronometer read several megacycles later than it should have. My core temperature was unusually high, my plating felt raw and hypersensitive, and my fuel tank was churning. I felt an urgent need to purge my tank, but when I tried to roll over, I discovered that I had been restrained.

I onlined my optics, activating my sensory net. A visored face swam into my grainy visual feed.

"You've finally come out of it." Hook's voice. "Not that I was worried. I can cure anything."

"What happened?" I rasped, vocalizer grating painfully. My fuel intake burned as though I'd swallowed acid.

Starscream, too, appeared above me. "You drank something that disagreed with you. Someone contaminated your energon."

Hook set about releasing the restraints. "You were thrashing enough to hurt yourself," he explained, "so I had no choice but to strap you down. You're recovering, but be careful."

"You were lucky," Starscream said. "I tested that energon and it would have terminated an Omega Sentinel. But it seems that you, like a certain previous leader, have exceptional resistance to contamination."

"You'd know a lot about that," Hook snorted.

"As I was saying, whoever mixed that knew exactly what he was doing. Lucky that your loverboy found you when he did." I looked around, but Ramrod wasn't present. "That cube and four others were poisoned, but the rest of the stock is clean."

"Who could have done this?" I had to stop and clear out my intakes. "There aren't many mechs with access to my quarters. You, Skywarp…"

"Your friend Ramrod."

I had to leap to his defense. "Soundwave scanned him already. He's no Autobot."

"I'll speak to Soundwave. Hook, can he be moved?"

"I'd prefer to keep my optics on him, but if you must."

"I need to get to the Archives," I said. A sudden idea had come to me.

Hook started to disconnect me from the various machines as Starscream went to the door and opened it.

"You can stop fretting. He's awake."

Ramrod appeared beside me, helping me sit up. /How are you feeling?/

/All right, I think./

"It's possible the would-be assassin will come back to finish the job," Starscream said. "You will escort Nova to the Archives. The Archivist can watch over him there."

Ramrod threw a quick salute. "Yes, sir."

Starscream left for the Command Center. Hook gave us a final admonition before he would allow us to leave.

"Don't strain yourself. My tune-up will help, but no flying and no fighting, except in an emergency, does that register?"

Ramrod supported me as I tested the strength of my legs. The hallways swayed around me until Ramrod was the only solid thing left in the world.

"How do you really feel?" he asked as soon as we were out of the door.

"Like slag. My systems are shot. How did you find me? I thought you were going to recharge."

"I was going to. But I just had this feeling that I should go and check on you." I glanced up to see him frowning. Then he grinned at me. "I'm your knight in shining armor, remember? I went in there and you were offline, your core temperature way up. That cube was sitting next to you, so I put two and two together."

I was silent. He hesitantly began again. "For a few cycles I thought you would…" Air hissed from his vents. "Primus. I thought you were dead for sure."

"Well, then, it's a good thing you were around, isn't it?"

His arm tightened around my waist. "I'll always be around when you need me, Nova."

We arrived at the Archives without incident.

"Safest place in Kaon," Ramrod said, helping me inside.

"Thank you."

"Here's my tracking signal. Find me if you want. I'll see you later, all right?"

"All right."

After watching him leave, I turned to find the Archivist behind me.

"Are you recovering?" he asked in his soft voice.

How on Cybertron did he know? I wondered, but instead I said, "Yes, thank you."

"Is there something I can help you find?" he asked, though his steps were already leading me towards the Hall of Memory.

"You are aware that Soundwave is looking through each mech's processor to find the Autobot spy?"

"I am." He huffed out a half-amused, half-disgusted puff of air. "Soundwave is an amateur. A talented one, true, but his methods are sloppy."

"I was wondering—"

"I thought you would come to me sooner," he said as we entered the Hall of Memory. "When each mech uploads a memory to the Archives, the equipment notes and records any unusual errors or glitches. I can provide you with a list of suspects and save you the trouble of looking through every processor in the army."

"What kinds of errors and glitches?"

"A spy will not load incriminating memories into the Archives. They will be missing, altered, or corrupted. The Archives take note of these errors, or, in fact, any other processor malfunctions." He gave me a stern look. "You ought to recommend that Hook collect a list from me."

He sat me down before a console and linked to it himself. "Those suffering an excessive amount of errors are listed in red. These mechs you must investigate at once, before your life is threatened again."

Designations filled the screen, the list growing at first, then shrinking as the Archivist narrowed the criteria. One, glowing softly red, caught my attention. As though he had read my mind, the Archivist rested a hand on my shoulder.

"There are many explanations," he said softly. "It may not be as it seems. I would also like to examine this further, if only to satisfy ourselves that we have not been deceived."

He brought up further information beneath the burning symbols. "Most unusual. His memory suffers from gaps. I must admit to my suspicions."

"There must be another explanation."

"One can only hope." He leaned nearer to the screen; the blue glow and the red light of our optics battled before us. "Confront him. Find peace of mind, or find a spy. Answer these questions."

"I can't." Numb shock had frozen my Spark. "He is loyal. I know it."

"If you were truly sure, you would not hesitate. Go. Put your doubts to rest."

I stood, shoving back the lingering weakness. "I will."

He stopped me before I reached the door. "Commander, not all is what it seems. Remember that."

Despite my wobbly limbs, I could walk on my own. I hid all signs of my illness, nodding to those who greeted me, passing by wordlessly on my way to the surface. I held my unease close to my Spark. It all made sense, but it could not be. It had to be a mistake.

I followed the signal out of the base and through the city, tracking him to the outskirts. I ought to have brought backup, but I still could not believe what the evidence had shown.

Zeroing in on the signal, I rounded a corner and squeezed through a broken door half-blocked by rubble. Grey light filtered in through shattered windowpanes, lighting an abandoned room scattered with rusty scraps. My optics fell not on the scraps and windows but on the two mechs just across the room and the blaster aimed straight at me. The first was a green-and-tan groundling with a glowering Autobot sigil on his chest, the one who had the blaster aimed at me. I recognized him from our intelligence network: Highbrow, head of Autobot intel, subordinate to the Senate.

The other mech, kneeling submissively beside the Autobot, head bowed as though to hide himself, was Ramrod.