Disclaimer: I do not own any version of Transformers nor it's characters...

AN: The plot is now slowly coming into effect! I am not good with sounding scientific when I write. Get used to it. I am not good with time so I guesstimated.

Jour - Cybertonian hour (a lot longer then an earth hour) :D


The Time After

chapter 4

A cold dreary place, the stockades. Trapped in a cell with little room for walking, or standing for that matter. Despite the room's inconvenient size, it was nothing compared to when he had pushed himself into the face friendly Intel-bot that came to be known as Longarm. Such a constricted build that seemed to crush his systems and officially force Shockwave to develop a slight claustrophobia towards it. That being the reason why he would risk transforming during private conversations with Lord Megatron. The poor conditions here did little to effect the bot who'd created his own mobile version of hell.

Pink energy bars were his only source of light, gleaming against the purple and black metal plating of the Decepticon. Gleaming against the scowling sigal.

A pair of stasis cuffs linked to both arms leaving Shockwave tired and nearly immobile in order to hinder his ability to elongate limbs. No, no. The Autobots couldn't allow that!

Had lip plates been visible, one could have seen that sinister smirk. Shockwave was no fool, the exact opposite really. To make things worse, Shockwave was a patient, enduring bot. A bot with many plans. Plans that would soon come into effect without the consent of his captors.

The bot rested his helm against the cold cell wall dozing off into recharge, shuttering his lone optic.

'Yes. Plans.'

~X~X~X~X~X~

Tense shoulder struts praised the moment Peceptor allowed his arms to dangle freely after setting down the data pad. Three of the monitors displayed virus coding, while the forth and fifth were of Ultra Magnus' systems. A steady spark pulse beeped reassuringly.

The complex coding did little more then avoid physical firewalls and focus Arcee's auto-repair systems on her memory banks. Without the guidance of codes, the damage would have gone over looked. Apparently, a virus possessed the ability to manually instruct repair nanites in a step-by-step process. To construct such a virus would demand exponential dedication and time from any bot in general, however, Shockwave was not 'any bot'.

Finally the Decepticons created a non-weapon based tool. From the looks of Arcee and her fully functioning processor, there is a new technological advance for medical purposes. However, the scientist decided it would be best to tweak a few things here and there so it could become a program instead of a virus, eliminating the need to remove physical firewalls. Why hadn't Shockwave done this himself? Virus's were easier to upload without so much a struggle from an unwilling victim.

The red mech reclined ever so slightly into his chair. To Perceptor's dismay, none of this provided exactly how nonexistent files could just... return. Illogical.

~X~X~X~X~X~

Last night had been spent with a group of old mechanics, Arcee, and Omega Supreme. Quite an enjoyable get together from Ratchet's perspective. All too generously the three guests were offered rooms to stay in since most of the building was now vacant. No surprise there.

Ratchet had only eight earth hours of recharge when an insistent ping alerted of a private comm. Propping up on the berth, he touched the side of his helm.

"Per-ceptor?" he spoke with a lagged groggy tone. What else could one expect from a bot still trying to get fully online.

"Sorry for the interruption, Ratchet."

"It's a little early, don't you think?" the medic slowly slumped back into his laying position.

There was a rustling sound before the other mech clarified his action, "I was reading up on organics, their online and recharge cycles are short. I believe... Sari... should be awake in what Earthlings call an hour, however, I could wait until her next online period."

Being the experienced medic he was, Ratchet could catch irregularities in a bot's voice. Percy was slightly rushing through his words.

"No, I'll get her. Besides, I would probably wake up around the same time." he allowed both peeds to hang over the edge and sat back up.

The medic had finally got into the habit of following earth's day and night cycles, and one can't immediately return to their original sleep patterns. Continuing, "Don't lie... is something wrong?"

"Negative." the microscope answered swiftly changing the subject, "Also, the virus has been analyzed. Classification, non-lethal with the purpose of processor repairs centered around the memory banks."

"So, Arcee is clear. I'll bring her over as well then-"

"Ratchet! You will not operate on any bot without a proper night's recharge."

Ratchet pinched the plating between his optics, a very human like gesture. "And what about yourself? I haven't had a proper recharge cycle in over two vorns. I can assure you that I will be a fully capable medic by the time I get there, not to mention the patient is not required to be online."

Perceptor was silent for a few clicks. "Fine. I expect you'll refuel before arrival. As for myself, only observation."

But of course, Ratchet would never dare to attempt any form of surgery (unless it was a do or die situation) on an empty tank.

"See you in a third of a jour."

The comm link broke leaving Ratchet to his own thoughts. Sari was most likely with Bulkhead and Bumblebee... wherever that was. Hopefully they hadn't tried to pull an "all nighter" again. Though, as of late, their little earth friend had matured greatly since she'd become what Sumdac refered to as a 'teenager'.

Now as to find her... Sadly Bumblebee, the energetic fragger that he was, would be easier to wake up. About to contact the yellow mini bot, the medic froze. She deserved that last hour of sleep. Maybe even a bit extra time.

Ratchet left his temporary room and walked silently to the nearest refuel station. He'd comm Bee afterwords.

~X~X~X~X~X~

His limbs felt heavy. Sleep was a top priority, yet he wouldn't give in. A leering theory hung over the colossal as a reminder to the pattern.

Recharge.

Enter stasis.

Lose time.

Wake up.

Stellar cycles lost, with the exception of himself. Incorrect. All of his kind were decommissioned and placed under a voluntary stasis waiting till their services were required. Hmmm...

What was one to do in a time of peace when he was built for war? Would he go mad? Is this the reason the others were put under? Or is his kind just too large for such a small world?

Once again his optics tried to shut and offline, nearly succeeding when the *clink clink* sound of peeds echoed down one of the low hallways.

"Ratchet?" Omega Supreme asked.

"Omega... Why are you not in recharge?" the medic frowned as he entered the spacious room, an empty cube in servo. It didn't take long for Ratchet to study his friends tired expression and poor posture"or better yet, have you recharged at all?"

The supreme straightened his back-struts trying to loosen his stiff wiring and joints. The medic knew him all too well.

"No."

"Okay then..." Ratchet stopped at the nearest energon dispenser, his gaze never leaving the other mech. "What's keeping you?"

"Avoiding stasis." The big mech came right out with it. No use in playing word games when it would only serve unintentionally annoy his friend.


AN: I would like to apologize in advance for the gonna be late updates of two of my stories that are stuck on a glitching computer. Hopefully it will be fixed soon. Sorry.