Author's Notes: I HATE YOU ALL! I HATE EVERYTHING! I EVEN HATE MYSELF, MORE THEN ANYTHING ELSE! I HATE YOU FOR MAKING ME DO THIS AND I YAHHHHHHHHHHH!

You'll have to forgive Bonecrusher he isn't much of a conversationalist; he suffers from chronic hate syndrome, or rather that's what some of we Decepticons jokingly call it.

DREADWING YOU ONE EYED SLAGGER I'M GOING TO AHHHHHHHH!

Sorry about that distraction, Starscream told me to keep him on a short leash as you fleshlings might say and that's not easy when he doesn't get to blow things up... Unfortunately we're stuck in the Middle East at the moment and on stand-by for a mission that isn't even featured in this chapter. Gives me plenty of time to have some fun though, so far I've spiked the gas tanks of five old clunkers those insignificant terror inducing wannabes use for transport and short circuited a few suicide bombers before they could get out of their base... Heh, heh, heh, what... Oh sorry apparently Sithicus said that was in bad taste, informing you and all that.

And another thing you faceless freak when I get out of this programming block I'm going to ram you like I rammed that bus, the faces on those hapless fleshies was enough to... ARGH!

Where were we? Oh right, as Bonecrusher has been demonstrating for you the bold type is our native language translated to your inferior English, I say inferior because some of our curse words can be rather imaginative and worlds better then the so called fecal matter you leave lying all over the place... Huh? Oh they invented indoor plumbing? How quaint, all roads lead to the Sea isn't it? And believe me I've seen the bottom of the Ocean up close and personal, apparently sewage doesn't get dispursed as well as you hoped. Better get this over with before Bonecrusher wakes up again...

This is what I am thinking, in fact I think I'm being more then polite with you unlike the so called venerable Sithicus who feels I'm being way to insulting, but hey I'm a practical joker and a hell of a lot better at it then that inferior Skywarp... How many Decepticons can actually siphon off the entire fuel reserves of a 747 without getting caught and redirecting it into the tanks of a sleeping former Decpepticon Air Commander? I ask you, Starscream would have my spark for that particular joke, he was hung-over, or at least the equivalent of it for three weeks. And that little anecdote was an example of a flashback, yeah, yeah, not a very good one yeesh.

Well I think I've damaged your sensibilities enough, probably insulted a couple of you to boot... Just tell your friends it's all courtesy of Dreadwing, that's D R E A D W I N G, don't you dare get me confused with those alternate spellings of my name like that inferior Mini-Con Dreadwind from that other universe Hasbro called Classics... Uh-oh I think...

CRUNCH! Slag it you talk too much you little runt, instead of shouting and cursing at you miserable flesh beings I'll just tell you the title.

Chapter Seven: Secrets

What secrets? I'm not tellin' you punks, I HATE YOU!

This is Sithicus cutting in before the actual chapter, just wanted to appologize for that... I'm afraid not all Decepticons can have a spark of good in their Sparks or act civil and those two are the worst of the lot... Er yeah, so Sorry, I'll make sure they never handle the Author's Notes again. SIGH

Hidden within Area Fifty-One the Decepticons had spent two years with a low profile, now their patience was well spent awaiting the completion of their newest plan. Shockwave spent hours giving orders to Stockades' puppets in Autobot reprogramming, it was slow going though perhaps not as slow as Shockwave had pretended it to be.

"We have the designations now sir." One of the humans reported. "Aside from Armorhide who you knew by name we have also captured Signal Flare, Sky Blast, Air Raid and Strongarm."

"I see, continue your task." Shockwave ordered pleased at this new information. The reason for the deception was something he was forced to keep to himself though some of the Decepticons would be excited to know of this, turning from his private monitors he made his way to the adjoining room. Here the fallen Decepticons were kept, Shockwave had repaired the damages to Devastator and Blackout out of necessity he needed to determine a method of defending against their sabot rounds.
But that wasn't the big secret, moving past the fallen bodies on the examination tables he approached the cryostasis chamber. "Amazing." He remarked examining the readings, despite his damages Megatrons' spark continued to weakly fluctuate. "I was certain you had perished Megatron, logic would dictate that surviving a direct assault from absorbing the Allsparks full energy levels would destroy your spark. And yet you continue to defy the natural order of things, if your spark were stronger I'd attempt repairs to your superstructure." Shockwave turned to the estimated number of cycles until Megatron could be repaired, they still indicated almost twenty Earth years. "Until you stabilize or he shows up to hasten the process your survival must be kept silent, I have no doubt Starscream would kill you rather then see you return." He observed, inputting a quick command he turned to leave, the humans required almost constant supervision. Shockwave would ensure Megatron remained hidden, despite Starscreams' belief that the Decepticons would follow him unquestioningly; the truth was crystal clear as far as he was concerned.
Without Megatron the Decepticons would eventually be claimed by extinction, thanks to Primes' negligence they were a dying species even now; somehow the Allspark and Cybertron would be restored no matter the cost to Earth or anyone else.

Hardtop idled in the parking lot of some store the humans frequented, he'd spent more time with the Brass family then he did on sight at Sector Sevens base. Obviously the nuisance called Simmons was slow to trust Brass with anything truly important, still messing with the girl proved a pleasant distraction. Currently Ella and Grace Brass sat inside of him, Ailita had taken the children shopping and unfortunately for her and him he was currently the only means of transport they possessed.
Gregory Brass had crashed the families other car while chasing that damn Autobot Bumblebee, he'd showed up unexpectedly in Houston Texas while Brass was meeting with some other agents and had used the car in place of Hardtop to be more discreet. Something about Texans not appreciating armed vehicles in their state, rather careless of Brass to be sure, then again Bumblebee had defied conventional traffic laws by shifting forms and escaping on an overpass at the time.

"Ella, will you stop glaring at the dashboard already you're creeping me out." Grace complained popping her gum annoyingly, Hardtop still had some stuck to his glove compartment door because of her and her disgusting habit.

"No." Ella shot back and then shot Grace with that pathetic weapon she favored.

"Cut that out you little gnat." She snapped. "Honestly why mom keeps buying you those Nerf guns after you always break them I'll never understand." She grumbled Ella stuck her tongue out.

"Doom bug breaks them." She proclaimed Hardtop wanted to groan. The kid was almost five and she still called him by that stupid name, it made him want to show himself just to make her say his name at least once.

"Sure he does." Grace said rolling her eyes and pulling her gum into a long string which she promptly began to twirl around her index finger. "It can walk and open windows with the help of magical fairy dust."

"That's dumb." Ella retorted shooting her sister again.

"You do that again and I'll throw that damn thing out the window."

"You swore, I'm telling mommy." Ella sang in a teasing tone, Hardtop had to admit, she excelled at tormenting her siblings and he did respect his quarry for that much at least.

"You do and I'll tie your favorite sweater into knots." Grace shot back, Ella fumed in what amounted to a back seat. Hardtop still wasn't quite sure what kind of dune buggy Sector Seven favored, it could seat four instead of two, had windows, a roof and proper accoutrements for human comfort yet it was still considered a dune buggy due to its design configuration despite its atypical nature.
He liked it despite this, except for days when the kids tagged along. Suddenly Grace started fiddling with the radio dial, pop tunes blared from his speakers and Hardtop literally ground his teeth despite not having any in vehicle mode, little did they suspect that Ella was actually sitting in front of his robot modes' head. She jumped at the sound and looked around confused.

"Oh baby, baby." Escaped from the speakers.

"Grace no." Ella whined, I agree. Hardtop grumbled to himself, this right here was the worst, Spears couldn't sing to save her life from a Decepticon. He was going to melt her in a pit of molten metal once they conquered this world just to hear her scream.

"Mom's gone I'm in charge of the radio." She shot back, like the pit you are. Hardtop knew he could blow his cover, but in matters of this magnitude he was the law, twitching the dials he tuned in to a local law enforcement dispatcher.

"Suspicious vehicles in the area, car six four three investigate. Repeat suspicious vehicles in the area, six four three investigate." The dispatcher alerted, Grace glowered and twisted the dial again only to hit a hard rock station.

"Instruments of Destruction tools of foul play, it's a violent eruption existence drips away." The lead singer sang, Grace tried again only this time Hardtop kept his dial stuck on that station, it was a good song. Most human pastimes were stupid or just plain confusing, but certain kinds of music could excite or more likely sooth his emotional state, especially when the kids were around.

"Stupid dial's stuck." Grace complained trying to turn the dial, Ella smirked knowingly.

"Nuh-uh, Doom Bug likes bad songs." She declared as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"Shut up."

"Grace!" Ailita chastised at last appearing her son beside her holding four bags nearly bursting with clothing a big smile plastered on his face.

"Grace is in trouble, Grace is in trouble."

"Sorry mom." She apologized looking sheepish.

"Your brother has his school things, now it ieeez time to get yours and Ellas." The Brass matriarch informed her tone slightly disappointed. "And for goodness sake Grace dis time try to be tasteful." She pleaded pulling out of the parking lot and heading for the next stop, Hardtop subtly turned the radio up to drown the humans chatter out and save for Ella no one seemed to notice.

Charles Nathaniel Witwicky or Sparkplug to his friends was a mechanic and somewhat of a black sheep in the Witwicky family, he enjoyed corrupting his nephews and nieces a little and gave them gag gifts on occasion, but at the moment he was studying a classic Camaro parked in his garage. It had showed up one day beat up and in desperate need of some body work, the thing looked like it had been through hell, or a demolition derby.
Not one to turn his back on a vehicle in distress Charlie took pity on the old car and was currently repairing the thing. His own Dodge Ram sat nearby the curious mix of dull-dark red and white a stark contrast to the man, he'd wanted to repaint it, but for some reason the paint wouldn't take.

"They keep hounding you." She sighed internal communications line open, Bumblebee had explained what he could limited as he was to communicating via radio signals. "It's almost like they think you're a Decepticon."

"They can't know they never tried to hurt ya." The radio sang out, Charlie shrugged considering everything else currently wrong with it a messed up radio was to be expected.

"If you wanted I could alert Prime." She suggested, Bumblebee rattled on his wheels.

"Don't worry, be happy." The radio sang Elita laughed internally trust Bumblebee to think of others rather then himself.

"I'll tell the others to watch out, but since we came down incognito I doubt they'll be in trouble or danger of attack… Arcee wanted to talk to you." She said changing topics, Bumblebee's headlights dimmed.

"Wise man say only fools rush in, but I can't help falling in love with you." The King sang over the radio; true it didn't express his genuine feelings concerning the pink and black femme, but Elita got the gist of it.

"The king, oh yeah keep it there you crazy car." Charlie spoke up, Bumblebee obliged allowing the music to continue. Sparkplug grinned as he finally got the last dent out of the car.

"It's disturbing how effective their weapons are against our kind, if I wasn't with the worlds best mechanic I doubt you'd be able to evade these humans much longer." Elita remarked with a laugh, Charlie eyed the Camaro thoughtfully.

"Well that's about all I can do for you." He remarked wiping his hands off. "That paint… Well doubt I could find a coat in your color little friend, they just don't make yellow like they used to." He complained with a shake of his head, grabbing a can of Dr. Pepper he took a swig of the lukewarm concoction and grimaced. "Damn." He cursed. "Oh well, suppose your owner'll be as mysterious in pickin' ya up as he was dropping you off." He mused wiping beads of sweat from his forehead. "So long as I get paid for the work I don't care, I'm used to this by now." He added before putting away his tools and heading for the door, the man lived just next door in a small house; he had little need for more considering his wife Laverne had died a couple years back in childbirth. Unable to raise his boy at the time he'd let his brother Michael take the kid in, he hated doing it, but he just had no other choice. The IRS took his bigger garage away to pay off taxes and he'd almost been forced onto the street. Hell his Dodge had been a gift from Aretha to thank him for all the trouble he'd helped her out of, but as the Witwicky family motto said, no sacrifice, no victory.

"No money down." Bumblebees' radio spat as the Camaro rolled closer to Elita.

"I know we have no means of repaying him." She commented. "This planet is certainly difficult to understand at times, but I think I have an idea for compensating Charles Nathaniel Witwicky for his help." She revealed a lightness in her tone that indicated a wide smile would have been visible were she in robot mode. "Here's what you'll do tonight." And she began to explain her idea.

The tow truck read Mike's Towing on the doors; a new window had replaced the one broken by Mikaela Banes that fateful day in Mission City, if not for orders to remain incognito Longarm might have intervened during the battle even if it had meant blowing his cover to Michael Francis Witwicky. Currently Longarm was once again towing a friend to safety, it was late at night and most of the family was asleep waiting the day of the funeral for Alex.

"I can't believe they attacked him." A soft whispered tone remarked clearly upset.

"Ah know Arcee ah know, but Camshaft ain't scrap yet ol Doc Ratchet'll have him up good as new before yah know it." The Autobot tow truck remarked with a grin implied in his voice.

"This means we're all targets now, how'd they find us?" Elita-One wondered pulling up alongside the others, Arcee shrugged her optics dulling slightly in her melancholy.

"I have my suspicions." The familiar voice of Optimus Prime stated as he Ratchet and Bumblebee emerged from the shadows, his optics fell on Camshaft and he frowned deeply troubled by the state of his comrade.

"Had tah be Payload Prahme." Longarm stated with a growl. "He's the only one with that kind of firepower."

"Agreed, I want the three of you to remain even more vigilant." Prime ordered. "The Decepticons could strike again at any moment.

"I don't like this Optimus." Elita remarked transforming into her twenty-two foot tall robot mode, she was close to Ironhide and Ratchet in height. Considering Optimus was twenty-eight feet tall it was practical, if she'd been Arcees' nine and a half feet their relationship would have developed serious complications. "They outnumber us, it isn't hard to think Wreckage or Incinerator could have also been aboard the Nemesis. Why aren't they more active?" Optimus sighed reaching down to brush her cheek manifold, it was the only amount of affection he could spare at the time.

"Starscream is not a fool or a coward, he's been leading the Decepticons for as long as Megatron was lost to them." He returned. "I suspect he is planning something and when it is at last revealed we shall not like it." He added, Elita nodded and moved to embrace him he wrapped his arms around her slender frame and turned to Ratchet. "Will he recover?"

"Yes Optimus, his internal repair systems have already begun the process of restoration. There will be little that I can do to accelerate this procedure I'm afraid, without access to the Ark my supplies are sadly limited." Ratchet replied completing his scans, Arcee rubbed her shoulders as if to stave off a chill and eyed Bumblebee thoughtfully; the scout brushed a hand over Camshafts' hood and closed his optics briefly.

"How are we gonna keep alert Prahme?" Longarm spoke up. "The Witwicky families are scattered across the States, we're easy pickin's fer the Decepticons." He noted bitterly, Optimus silently agreed and eyed Elita with concern; Bumblebee stole a glance at Arcee and turned to Prime.

"Maybe we should reveal ourselves to them, ensure that they stick together." He suggested.

"'Bee can talk again." Longarm blurted.

"Yes, the Allspark repaired him before our battle at Mission City." Ratchet explained.

"And yah didn't bother tellin' me that day?" Longarm demanded angrily revving his engine. "Yah coulda at least said somethin', that's the last tahme Ah haul yahr skid plate out of a battle yah ungrateful runt."

"Knock it off Longarm." Prime chastised doing his best not to smile. "You know you were under cover, had the Decepticons suspected your presence there you might have been injured or worse."

"Yeah, yeah Ah know Prahme. Bad enough I let that femme break my window, but then Ah got stuck with clean up detail in dealin' with those Allspark created scraplets." Longarm grumbled. "And that face suckin' steerin' wheel was a pain." He added under his breath, Bumblebee chuckled lightly and then eyed Prime expectantly.

"I'm afraid we can't reveal ourselves to the humans though, it would only place them in greater danger from the military… Especially after I told them we did not know what forms you took." He stated returning to the subject at hand.

"You know I'm a big girl Optimus, I can take care of myself." Elita pointed out.

"I do, but despite their good intentions I just can not bring myself to trust these humans completely. Considering those of Sector Seven denied any knowledge of our presence here since two thousand and three and pursued Bumblebee relentlessly." Prime admitted with a shake of his head. "Many have been honest with us, but this governmental structure; it is nothing like what we are used to. We have yet to even meet their President and Banacheck continues to ask some invasive questions."

"They are a curious species Optimus." Ratchet pointed out.

"Perhaps too curious for their own good." Bumblebee commented softly. "Their grasp of technology is impressive, but I have noticed they continue to strive beyond their current means."

"Since when did you get so serious 'Bee?" Arcee wondered playfully, Bumblebee averted his gaze and shuffled his feet.

"Arcee." Elita cautioned, the shorter femme sighed.

"We should not judge them." Ratchet spoke up. "I have been learning more about them through my contact with Gregory Brass and his family, they are both a remarkable and fascinating race and should be protected from the Decepticons at all cost." He stated. "I think the rest of the Witwickys deserve to know the truth."

"Wise council as always old friend." Prime laughed with a shake of his head. "Very well, you three shall reveal yourselves to your charges. But only to them, I still do not wish to expose your presence at large just yet." He cautioned. "It is possible the Decepticon that attacked Camshaft did so only to slay Alexander Witwicky as part of a ploy to wipe out the bloodline of the one responsible for Megatrons' death. They may not have known of Camshafts' presence." He added thoughtfully. "If that is the case I suggest we explain everything to them after they have had a chance to grieve, in a days time they will honor the dead with this funeral ritual of internment. Afterwards we shall reveal the existence of the Autobots to all remaining Witwickys and explain why this unfortunate tragedy occurred."

Payload marched purposely into the command center of Area fifty-one lone optic narrowed in thought, Stockade was standing in front of the monitor observing events from around the globe. His agents were spread far amassing data on a large scale and spreading the lies of American brutality and dominance, it was a great plan worthy of the Decepticons. Then again it also felt somehow beneath them, he was starting to feel that the Allspark should take priority over anything else. Dropkick was currently observing Ironhide and the Lennox family, Swindle the Witwicky brat and Barricade was off with Frenzy doing who knew what, leaving Hardtop and him to deal with everything else.

"Why can't Scorponok reacquire a popular vehicle mode?" Payload grumbled alerting Stockade to his presence. "I'm tired of doing all the legwork."

"You know the mecharachnid isn't smart enough." The current head of Sector Seven pointed out with a laugh, he'd switched from his cockney accent to a more refined and cultured British tone after watching some old spy films via the internet. "Did you neutralize the target?"

"Affirmative." Payload replied. "Witwicky Delta is DCM, Dead Compliments of a Missile." He added with a chuckle.

"Well that's brilliant." Stockade paused tilting his head as if listening to something else. "Really?"

"What now?"

"The virus we uploaded, it's become active again. Searching us out, I believe it's evolved to sentient level." Stockade relayed. Payload blinked in bewilderment; a virus usually did not develop sentience then again considering the technological state of this planet. Well anything was possible as the humans might say.

"Do we tell Starscream?" He asked thoughtfully.

"Later, first we have to track it down and build it a body." Stockade pointed out. "If we can." He muttered so low Payload barely heard him.

Scorponok had nothing to do and only his memories to take up his time, he'd been silent for far too long and no longer had anyone to communicate with. In short he was a Decepticon suffering from cabin fever, which was never a good thing; he needed to get out of this place. Activating his drills he bore through the pavement in an unused room and entered the desert, he had a bearing on the Autobot Ironhide and he knew the one who killed Blackout was his pet, as it were. Time was meaningless under the ground, Scorponok passed through many human made subterranean structures, and at one point he destroyed an electrical sub-station as well as knocked over several telephone control towers.
Reaching his destination Scorponok emerged briefly from the ground scanners attuned for the slightest sounds.

"Sarah I think Grace is going to take her first step." A male voice exclaimed excitedly.

"Oh Will." A female voice sighed exasperatedly.

"I'm serious." The man insisted.

"Captain Lennox I'm detecting…" Scorponok heard enough; racing at top speeds he burst out of the ground in the backyard weapons spitting angry fire. Ironhide was there taking the brunt of the assault, a woman screamed and a tiny voice was crying, eyes wide the target was rushing his spouse and offspring inside the house. "You twisted Decepticon scum." The Autobot cursed his cannons charged and firing, Scorponok leapt aside almost skittishly, his tail surged forward striking Ironhides' leg piercing it below the left knee. He bellowed in pain and fired while he was stuck in one place, Scorponok had lost all sense of reason, the blast destroyed his right claw completely.
Emitting a static hiss of pain he whipped around knocking the Autobot to the ground, automatic weapons fire exploded from the entrance to the house as the target emerged two guns in hand.

"Yahhhhhh!" He cried out a look of fury on his face, Scorponok literally flicked the nuisance aside sending him collapsing in a heap next to the house; the Autobot had to die first. Thrashing around he leapt atop Ironhide and stung him again this time in the spinal column, or at least what would be a spinal column on a human.
Ironhide growled, transformed and ran over him; a stupid move as the bladed turbines in his body tore the Autobots tires and armor up pretty bad. Firing with his one good claw he spun and targeted the house the murderer would feel loss as he had before the end, suddenly a pressure on his tail made him glance back. The Autobot had grabbed him by the tail, attempting to break free a silent cry of pain flew out as Ironhide tore the appendage clean off.

"You will not harm Sarah, William or especially Annabelle Lennox." He proclaimed in a low growl charging his cannons despite being reduced to fighting on his knees due to damages sustained. A haze of red clouding his higher reasoning protocols Scorponok spun to fire with his one good claw, Ironhide fired twice, the first shot destroyed his legs, the second damaged the turbines in his body.
Squealing loudly Scorponok leapt at Ironhide only to be knocked aside by a new Autobots' arm, flaming the turbines exploded blowing him to pieces and raining flaming death down upon the battlefield. Scorponoks' last thoughts were ones of contentment, his rage vanishing he knew this was what he'd truly wanted, to be reunited with Blackout in death.

"Ironhide you are injured." Optimus stated concerned.

"Yeah, but I got him Prime." Ironhide chuckled before collapsing into stasis, the low-rider pickup parked nearby couldn't believe how fast the battle had been. Dropkick wasn't about to move from his position in case they detected him as Ironhide had Scorponok, Starscream wasn't going to be happy.

To Be Continued Say it isn't so, Scorponok destroyed? A fitting end for one who calls himself Decepticon though. I hope you've enjoyed this glimpse into the Autobots thought patterns, and enjoyed the flashback introducing a certain Femme. Rest assured there will be even more surprises in the chapters that follow, and the War on Terrr plot Starscreams' got cooking might not be as long lasting as he would have hoped, not after the mysterious Organization Thirteen gets involved. If you've followed Transformers as long as I have or have the DVDs for the old cartoons then perhaps you'll recognize the name of the head of this illustrious British based counterpart to Sector Seven... Come now surely you didn't think that only the Americans would have foreknowledge of the N.E.S.? LOL Yeah I know Organization Thirteen might sound a little familiar to some people, to be honest I had no idea what name I'd call'em and it wasn't until after I did give them their name that I realized a rather prominant videogame franchise was where I'd heard it before.

Anyway I'm going off too much and revealing too many things, be with us next week as... The Transformers Will Return After These Messages. LOL