Oi! MSN's being stupid. It started holding onto my e-mails for almost a day before giving them to me. I got eleven e-mails all at once, which is really bad since there's a little alert that pops up in the corner and if I get more than one at a time they stack up on top of each other. So all the sudden the right half of my screen is covered in little squares saying 'you received an e-mail from fan fiction' and I had to peel myself off the ceiling. (me, high-strung? not at all. -twitchtwitch-)

But on a brighter note, my laptop's back. Will my updates speed up? … not really. Will my stress level decrease? Most definitely. Will my writing style improve? Uh, maybe? The story's gonna pick up the pace now that all the major players are in their place. There's gonna be more scene jumps now per chapter, as opposed to just one or two, and sooner or later I'm gonna find the courage to write the most difficult character yet- Optimus Prime.

And as a side note, there are hitches in the time-flow of this story that can't be explained unless it's from the point of view of a certain all-knowing being. The general order is: Decepticons head for Earth about two weeks before this begins and Megatron revives a day before Jazz. This explains why Barricade only picks up on Megsy's spark signal when he clearly could have sensed Jazz's as well.

Disclaimer: I no own, so you no sue.

--

The police car had been following them for some time now.

It didn't worry Megatron so much as it annoyed him. It darted in and out of his awareness; a black hood glimpsed in the rearview mirror, a flash of white paneling off to one side. If it weren't for the big 'POLICE' emblazoned on it he really wouldn't have paid it any attention at all. They were on a busy highway, after all. But the police part made the Clarice nervous and that in turn annoyed him.

Nervous wasn't the right word; the fleshling certainly got antsy, but it was with hope. It- she- would watch the car whenever it appeared in the mirrors, staring at it to the point where she had almost driven them off the road once. If it weren't for the fact that he didn't want to talk so much he would have explained the meaning behind the purple symbol that was in place of the police sigil. Seeing the hope in her eyes die just wasn't worth the effort he would have to put into the conversation. Instead he took a perverse pleasure in knowing that she was hoping for rescue from one of his fellow Decepticons.

Barricade. It had to be. It certainly wasn't Starscream, and the other two potential survivors weren't big enough to support such an alternate mode. During that fateful day Megatron had ordered the scout to stay away; he would be of no use in a fight against Prime, and Frenzy was too valuable to risk. So Barricade had survived, and clearly he had picked up on Megatron's spark signal. Now he had to deduce where the scout's loyalties would lie- would he look out only for himself like Starscream, or was he dependable like Soundwave?

He was hanging back for now, no doubt trying to figure out what he was sensing. It was a very wise maneuver and good news for his leader. Until he figured out what Barricade's reaction to this change would be Megatron intended to keep his distance. This was, however, proving to be difficult. When he'd been asking how far it was to Los Angeles he'd forgotten to ask how long it would take to get there. It was now early in the evening of their second day of travel and Megatron had given up on finding Jazz in time. The 'bot was a clever one; by now he had doubtless established contact with his fellow Autobots. It helped that he could trust his teammates, the 'con thought darkly. So he had ordered the Clarice to head straight south, allowing Barricade to pace them as Megatron tried to figure out what to do now.

The one mech he knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, would help him regain his true form was Soundwave. The communications officer had always been a loyal one, not even needing Megatron to beat that loyalty into him at any point. He'd had several opportunities to eliminate Megatron and take over himself, chances Starscream would have crawled through a smelting pit for, yet he seemed happy with where he was.

Maybe 'happy' wasn't a good word to describe Soundwave. Complacent, perhaps, satisfied maybe, but never happy. That was part of the reason Megatron put so much trust in him; he didn't allow his emotions to rule him because he didn't have any. Soundwave's forte was cool logic and rising up against Megatron was simply illogical. For those reasons Megatron had decided he wanted to get into contact with the communications officer. The question now was how, and the answer was hovering somewhere just out of eyeshot. If Megatron wanted Soundwave's help he needed to convince Barricade to help him first.

He leaned against the nose of his vehicle and tilted his head to one side as he considered the black-and-white 'con he could almost see across the parking lot. They had stopped to refuel the car and Megatron had caught sight of the now-familiar powerful-looking vehicle slip into the lot. Barricade's car form simply wasn't designed for blending in, which was both good and bad; it made it easy for Megatron to track him as he took up position in an empty spot across the way. No doubt the scout was scanning every vehicle in an attempt to locate the spark signal he was tracking. It probably wouldn't even occur to him to scan the fleshlings.

A soft metallic skittering noise drew Megatron's attention. He snapped his chin around in time to see… something… duck behind one of the car's wheels. The Clarice was still trying to maneuver the fuel pump, an awkward contraption with an unwieldy hose. She was back by the rear of the vehicle while the noise was coming from the opposite side. He shifted his weight and turned his back slightly to the noise, watching out of the corner of his eye. After a moment an optic-eyestalk peered around the tire, studying him intently. Megatron held himself still, waiting and listening as the little mech hummed and muttered to himself. Finally Frenzy shuffled out form his place and scuttled forward, taking one digit-blade and preparing to poke at the weird-sensing squishie-

Megatron spun around and seized the little thing, yanking him off the ground and slamming him across the hood hard enough to dent both machines. Frenzy gave a shrill whoop and started to transformed his arm, trying to bring out his gun or maybe his throwing stars but the human seized his hand and gave it a sharp twist. He was strong, too strong, and there was an ominous creak of metal skeletal supports threatening to snap. Frenzy was jabbering now, a relentless stream of nonsense interspersed by deafeningly high-pitched squeals for Barricade. He didn't really need his partner's help, though, as he brought his feet up and pushed off against Megatron's chest. His head snapped around and impacted with the human's chin hard enough to instantly split the skin. Megatron grunted and lessened his grip enough that the little 'con slid away from him and started to dash away.

The human snarled at him and spun around, reaching through the open window of the car and seizing the ice scrapper. He threw it at Frenzy and it tangled in those stick-like legs. The hacker went down with a very loud Cybertronian curse, then rolled over and readied his gun, yelling rapid-fire insults and threats. Megatron stood his ground, wiping the blood of his chin with one hand and growling.

"Stupid little insect," he spat. "Going to kill me? Just try it."

Frenzy froze, staring at Megatron and staying perfectly still except for the odd spasms. After a moment he scrambled to his feet and peered at the human, his head jerking around like a bird's.

"Mega-mega-megatron?"

"Very good," he drawled. "Certainly took you long enough."

Frenzy whooped once more and darted away, heading towards Barricade. Megatron watched him go. He turned and saw the Clarice watching his with wide eyes.

"What was that?" she asked. Megatron studied her, then smiled darkly.

"Good news for me," he answered calmly. "Very bad news for you. Your usefulness just ended."

--

Barricade had listened to Frenzy's frenetic gibberish over their internal line but had been unable to do anything; also unwilling, since the first words the hacker had said were 'squishie being mean'. Then the hacker began to shriek something about Megatron and came flying around the corner at a rate of full giddyup. He tried to stop too late and slid right under Barricade's frame. The scout tensed, not sure he trusted the little spaz to not damage anything, but the hacker scrambled out without pause.

"Megatronmegatronmegatronmegatron! Me-Ga-Tron!"

"Megatron is dead," Barricade stated flatly. The hacker hissed and danced on the spot, beating against Barricade's door.

"Megatronissquishie," Frenzy spat. "Megatronissquishie Me-gatronis-squishie!"

"If he were alive he'd toss you to the Predacons for saying that," the scout shot back. Frenzy screeched and head-butted the car's window. Barricade kicked his engine over and shot into reverse, leaving Frenzy scrambling to keep up as he peeled away. He spun around and came to a halt facing the only other vehicle at the gas pumps, a large green SUV. Leaning against the front bumper was the squishie in question, and Barricade had to admit that if any one human could try to pass itself off as Megatron this one came closest. It was staring at him in a manner that certainly reminded him of his late leader, a clear challenge in its face and stance.

Another human was behind him. This one was watching with fear written bold across it. It took a few steps back, then turned and bolted. Frenzy arrived just then, stopping too late again; unlike last time he careened off Barricade's side panel and bounced to the pavement. Then he scrambled to his feet and did a curious little half-hop-half-run until he stood between his partner and the human Megatron.

"Squishierunsquishierun run run! I goget?" He looked at the human and Barricade didn't know if he were relieved at the lack of responsibility or insulted at the dismissal. The odd human shrugged.

"Sure, go get her." And Frenzy took off, bounding forward on all fours. Barricade ignored him and instead scanned the human in front of him, who turned out to be the source of the spark signature.

"Frenzy says you're Megatron," he said after a few moments. The human pushed himself off the car and walked towards the scout, stopping just beyond arm's reach.

"And do you believe him?" he asked. His voice was very familiar; it even had the right overtone of icy disdain.

"I'm going to need more than an odd spark signal," Barricade answered carefully. The human took two more steps forward and leaned forward, hands on Barricade's hood, and the scout felt inexplicably anxious.

"I am Commander of the Decepticon Forces. I have forged an army and led it to many victories against the Autobots. I would have been the owner of the Allspark except those cowardly Senate members ejected it into outer space. I died a month ago at the hands of a human. And you are a low-level scout, still alive because of an oversight. Any other questions?"

Barricade carefully rolled backwards, out from under the human's weight, and swung his driver's side door open.

"No, sir."

-Frenzy!- he barked over the internal line. He was rewarded with instant silence; never a good thing where the hacker was concerned. -Stop playing around and get back here.-

-Squishiegone- came the bemused reply.

-Gone?-

-Squishiegofall and getgone. Squishiegone.-

"Where is Frenzy?" Megatron asked as he settled himself into the seat. Barricade tried not to groan.

"I have no idea," he muttered in exasperation. "He makes no sense anymore."

He followed Frenzy's signal and ended up on a dirt road surrounded on three sides by trees. The fourth side dropped into a steep cliff, where Frenzy was standing on the edge peering down. Megatron got out but Barricade kept his distance, wary of instability caused by his weight. His leader walked over to the edge and stared down, unmoving, until Frenzy began his twitchy dance once more. After another moment he turned and both headed back to the scout.

"She won't be causing any problems," Megatron said succinctly. Barricade let his engine idle as Frenzy squirmed around in the passenger's seat and the 'con-turned-fleshling stared at the Decepticon sigil on the steering wheel. Finally he shook himself and spoke. "Have you established contact with anyone off-planet?"

"No," Barricade answered, trying not to sound irate. "Starscream decided he wanted me on the planet immediately and refused to compromise. I had to negotiate the atmosphere during a meteor shower. My long-distance communicator works, barely." He didn't bother to mention the obvious crash and resulting damage of Starscream's decision. Megatron muttered under his breath; nothing kind from the sounds of it and all directed towards the absent seeker. Then the human tilted his head and looked at the 'con sitting next to him.

Frenzy recognized his cue and poked at Barricade's dashboard. "Screen," he ordered. The scout balked, remembering the hacker's attempt to download the viruses to him. Frenzy hissed and started jabbing him nonstop. "Screenscreenscreenscreen screen screen screen gimmegimme screen-"

Megatron tired of this game quicker than Barricade. He caught Frenzy's arm with one hand and used the other to deliver a swift punch just under the steering wheel. The scout grunted and grudgingly extended the data screen Frenzy had so kindly requested. As usual the hacker flew through the mountains of data faster than Barricade would have thought possible, hissing and muttering. Aside from a few rude comments, though, the little mutant minded his manners.

"Celltower," Frenzy announced suddenly, and Barricade uploaded the info from the screen. "Celltowerbeemintospacehacktowersendmessage go go go!"

Megatron said nothing so Barricade floored it, tires skewing wildly across the gravel of the road before he straightened himself out. Then he followed Frenzy's directions towards the nearest cell tower.

With any luck he wouldn't be stuck on this planet, with Megatron, for any longer than absolutely necessary.

--

Swindle had propped his feet up on the desk and leaned the chair as far back as he dared. He was bored, utterly bored, and he blamed it all on a certain seeker.

Normally he'd be wheeling and dealing, adding to his nice cushy nest egg of energon and credits, or conning some dupe out of anything valuable. Sometimes he'd contact his old team mate Vortex, who was with Shockwave now, and offer up a trade of information Soundwave wasn't quite willing to give up for one of Shockwave's new toys. The scientist and communications officer had a thinly veiled, intense dislike for one another despite the fact that they were now considered the two most powerful surviving Decepticons. They wanted nothing to do with each other, even though they needed each other for steady information exchange and reliable weapons. If not for Swindle and Vortex making deals behind the two officers' backs both teams would have run into serious issues long ago.

But no, he couldn't do any of that. Now that they were close to orbiting the little blue planet called Earth Soundwave had put a lockdown on all outgoing transmissions. None of his shipmates had anything Swindle wanted, so he was stuck babysitting jets in the brig. All of this because Starscream couldn't come up with a convincing lie about Megatron's death.

The jet in question was laying in a crumpled heap behind the energy bars. According to Swindle's chronometer he should be coming online soon- when he had first been put on this ship, trapped in a small space with a bunch of annoying midgets and a doomsday 'con, he had annoyed Soundwave often enough that he could predict exactly when to expect Starscream's revival.

Sure enough, the jet jerked upright as though he'd been touched with a live wire. He tried to transform one of his cannons but was rewarded with an error reading- another thing Swindle knew from experience.

"Why are my weapons offline?" the jet demanded.

"Cause last time you came up shooting," Swindle answered in a bored tone. "Put Ravage in the repair bay."

"Why am I in the brig?"

"You annoyed Soundwave."

"I annoyed- where are we?"

"On the far side of the fourth planet in Earth's solar system." Now Swindle grinned at the seeker. "We're almost to Earth."

"Earth?!" Starscream's voice hit a pitch about half an octave higher than the sound of Ravage's claws scratching a piece of sheet metal. "What are we doing back here?"

"Seeing if you were telling the truth," Swindle answered cheerfully. Starscream gaped at him for a moment of blessed silence. Then he found his voice.

"No! I said we weren't coming here and as Air Commander and your leader-!"

"Oh, shut up," a new voice said from the doorway. Swindle started to turn to see who it was. Before he could, a large hand clamped on his shoulder and tilted him a little farther back, just far enough that he went feet-over-head in a graceless tumble to the floor. As a final insult the chair landed hard across his back, causing him to give a very undignified-sounding squawk. He scowled at the feet in front of his face.

"I hate triplechangers," he muttered. Astrotrain merely laughed nastily.

"Do not tell me to shut up," Starscream snapped. He slammed a fist into the energy bars, causing them to shoot off sparks and probably giving the jet a nasty shock. Swindle set his chair upright and sat, pointedly leaning back again, although this time he kept on foot hooked on the underside of the desk so there would be no repeats.

"I'll tell you whatever I want," the triplechanger countered lazily. "Because you're a coward, I have to go down to that pathetic planet and find Barricade by myself."

Swindle wasn't quite brave enough to mock the space jet for that, especially since the other 'con was still standing directly behind him. Instead he snorted and shifted his attention back to the card game he'd been playing with himself. Starscream glared at them both.

"Fine," he snapped. "But don't come whining to me when Prime rearranges your internals and ties your tailfins into a knot."

Astrotrain scoffed and kicked at Swindle's chair. This time the smaller mech had himself balanced too well to fall but he hit the desk hard enough to send his cards sliding all out of place. For a moment he stared at the messy piles. Then he shoved his chair back and stood.

"Oh good, you're here. I'm off-shift now, so I guess you're taking over!"

"What?" Astrotrain blurted, startled. He had come down to harass Starscream, not get volunteered for a pointless CPU-rusting duty.

"Technically it's Dead End's shift now but I don't want to talk to him, and since you're here you'll do. Bye-bye!" The last part was accompanied by a cheerful wave as Swindle all but flew out the door, leaving the two jets staring after him and looking like they'd just been whacked upside the heads. Swindle didn't slow down, knowing that as soon as he figured out what just happened Astrotrain would be more than a little irked. Instead he made a mad dash for the bridge, trusting Soundwave wouldn't tolerate any infighting this close to their enemies' new stronghold. At least, not where he could see it.

Soundwave wasn't on the bridge but Dead End was, slouched by the viewport and studying the dull red planet they were passing. In the distance a small blue dot glowed.

"Prime is on that planet," Dead End said morosely. "And the twins…" Swindle almost turned right around and walked out, but the threat of an irate triplechanger kept him there.

"We're all doomed, right?" he asked instead. The former Stunticon peered at him.

"We've always been doomed," he answered, and Swindle groaned. This was exactly what he needed, and with such perfect timing too. Then he shifted his attention back to that little planet ahead of them and frowned.

As much of a pessimist as Dead End tended to be, sometimes Swindle couldn't help but wonder if he might actually be correct.

--

Jazz chewed on the pen's lid, trying to avoid a repeat of two hours ago when a different pen had exploded in his mouth, and stared at the computer screen. He'd spent the past two and a half hours researching every little thing he could think of. By now he knew such random things as how long a Senate member kept his office, in which city the world's largest ball of twine resided, and that there were more hotel rooms in the city of Las Vegas than there were people. The last part didn't really surprise him when he stopped to think about it, but it was certainly interesting.

For what had to be the fortieth time he got up, stretching and listening to the series of popping sounds issuing from his spine, and wandered over to the window. No yellow Camaro. No red-and-blue semi or giant black pickup, for that matter. He was lucky the library didn't close at night, he thought wryly, although the librarian was starting to look at him in a manner that indicated uneasy impatience. Jazz would need to leave soon, but by now it was well and truly dark and he simply didn't feel comfortable enough as human to risk the crowds.

He'd traded out a five for quarters an hour ago and tried calling Sam again, but the boy's phone had gone straight to voice mail. This could be good- there was a whole lot of nothing between Las Vegas and Los Angeles so it might be that he had no reception. This could also be bad, as Sam might have turned his phone off to prevent any more weirdoes claiming to be dead Autobots from calling him.

A flash of yellow caught his eye and he shifted, almost cheering when the Camaro turned into the lot and pulled into a parking space. He waited until Sam got out, not wanting this to have confrontation in front of the teen, before heading towards the door.

Bumblebee sat in the empty lot, just off to one side from a lamp post, acting like a normal car. He didn't react as Jazz walked over to him, even when the human stopped in front of him.

"Gonna pretend I'm not here?" he asked, folding his arms across his chest.

There was a long silence, then Bumblebee spoke in his newly healed, still scratchy voice.

"Who are you?"

"I'm Jazz, an' if you need me to I can prove it." He considered the car in front of him. "I should be givin' off a weird spark signal, a really weird one since humans don't have sparks. An' if you want I could tell you stories 'bout the trip. Like th' time Ironhide found his cannons loaded with paint pellets instead of ammo."

This time the silence was filled with disbelief. Not for the first time Jazz wondered how this had happened to him. Someone out there must really like him, he decided, and left it at that. An odd noise came from his right and he glanced over to see Sam, looking appropriately startled.

"Jazz?"

"Yup," the saboteur chirped.

"How did this…?" Bee began, and Jazz shrugged.

"No idea, kiddo. But it did, an' we gotta deal with it." He sighed at the last part, acknowledging a truth he'd so far done a fine job of ignoring- he had simply no idea how to change himself back. He didn't want to explain his fears to these two, however; there was no point behind alarming them, and some protective instinct in him wanted to keep them sheltered. They were both still younglings, after all. "First things first, we gotta get back to base. If you tracked me this easy then anyone else can too, an' Barricade's still runnin' around."

"I can handle Barricade," Bumblebee said, sounding stiff and insulted. Jazz grinned.

"I don't doubt it, but it's better not to take the chance."

So ten minutes later they were on the highway, heading to California. Jazz settled himself lower into the seat, content to let Sam subtly stare at him while pretending to drive and answer any occasional questions about what it was like being human. He was almost asleep when a pair of sports cars shot by, the deep roar of their engines causing him to sit bolt upright. Sam had done the same and was twisting around to look back.

"Was that…?" he began. Jazz glanced back but the cars were gone by now.

"It was," Bee answered grimly. He slammed on the brakes and swung around, skidding over the yellow line. After a second to reorient himself he was following the two sports cars at a clip considerably faster than before.

"Lemme guess," Jazz drawled. "Th' twins?"

"Prowl said he could handle them," Sam muttered. Jazz snorted and shook his head.

"He likes t' think so, and to give him credit most times he can. But I wouldn't've tried it here an' now. Too many new opportunities."

"Wonderful," Sam muttered to himself. "So now we're babysitters?"

"Where th' twins are concerned, everyone is."

And they were silent, with anger or poorly-hidden amusement, as they once again headed towards the neon-lit city of Las Vegas.