Hello there, people! It has occurred to me that I use these author's notes as some sort of ranting board and I tend to be pretty depressing when writing here, so today I shall be happy. So even though my foot hurts, my kitten stole my dinner, and my mother's birthday is Sunday and I have nothing to give her and no money to buy something, I shall be happy. Happy, dammit!
On a saner note, I am pleased about better timing with my update this time. I am by no means a punctual person, but I've been trying to keep some form of scheduling in regards to this fic. To those reading my Simmons-centric fic, I am truly sorry. As soon as inspiration strikes I shall post the next chapter. Those are much easier to write anyways, being shorter and with no real plot to them.
As an interesting bit of trivia, I have a small problem with my brain moving faster than my hands- or my computer, or the speed of light. As such I will occasionally and randomly type out a scene for a future chapter and leaveit to sit on my desktop until that chapter arrives. I did this with Astrotrain's encounter with Sideswipe, I did this with Swindle's shooting down the freeway bridge, and I did it with Swindle meeting Megatron. I also did it for one part in this chapter. Twenty points to whomever figures out which part it is.
This one jumps around a bit so try to keep up m'kay?
Disclaimer: If I owned TF, I would be rich. Which I'm not. Obviously.
---
"This day started out so badly, too," Jazz muttered. He was hunched over the security computer, following the painstaking procedure of perfectly balancing the lines of code. One little misstep and Ravage's firewalls would keep him safe. It was like a puzzle- trying to fit all the pieces together just so- and he had always enjoyed the challenge.
Of course, saying that implied that the day was actually improving. This wasn't entirely true. It was now late evening and a disgruntled set of twins had checked in less than an hour ago. Swindle and Barricade had seemed to have been waiting for something, or so Sideswipe said. This didn't stop them from splitting when the twins had shown up. After a brief game of hide-and-seek Swindle had transformed on a busy highway and dropped a truck trailer on Sunstreaker. The appropriate people had been called and Simmons was now on damage control. As soon as he came back to California he was probably going to park his scrawny ass in the middle of their base and not leave until they told him everything. Fortunately it would be a while before he could leave Ohio, so the Autobots had time to figure out what they were going to tell him.
Barricade had proven better at blending in and Sideswipe had lost him immediately. The twins had regrouped to gang up on Swindle, who backed over a mailbox and punched a hole in his main energon line. Naturally the twins had neglected to tell him this until he'd lost a sufficient amount of energon to keep him from doing anything.
The troubling part was that he'd found some way to jam his signals. All mechscould block most of their various signals, making them virtually invisible outside of a certain range. That range varied depending on the mech's role. As a saboteur-sometimes-spy, Jazz's range had been next to nothing. A scout likeBumblebee had about as small a range. Warriors like the twins, to whom stealthwas a foreign concept, almost didn't bother with any sort of shielding. They preferred to announce their presence; sheer intimidation was one of their greatest weapons.
Technically speaking a mid-level warrior like Swindle would also only have mediocre jamming abilities. In fact, as a former gestalt member he should have even less than that- the higher the jamming ability, the more interference the team faced when linking up. And jamming devices had an annoying tendency to block out most forms of communication. So either Swindle had found some way around the limitations of such devices- doubtful- or he'd waited until someone else did so and got his hands on a few- far more likely.
To be honest, the twins should havedestroyed Swindle when given the chance. Jazz understood why they hadn't- he was unpredictable and far too clever, but he was also useful and not particularly loyal. If needed, he could be bought or traded with. If the Autobots could find something he wanted, they might get a few jamming devices of their own.
"Penny for your thoughts?"
Jazz glanced back and saw Mikaela. She'd been pacing the base for hours now- Prowl's wait order was clearly starting to chafe.
"Just thinkin' 'bout how we might get Swindle to hand over some of his new toys," he answered.
"What, the jammers?" She came over and hitched her hip onto the corner of the table. "Maybe the twins should have asked for one in exchange for not killing him."
"Wouldn't've worked." Jazz began working on the next line, sketching it out in his mind before putting it in.
"Why not?"
"Believe it or not, there are rules ya gotta play by. You don't follow th' rules, Swindle gets mad, an' that's it. You don't see him again, ever."
"Rules?" Mikaela scoffed. "Please. We're talking about the same guy, right? The one who blew out the freeway bridge?"
"Yup. Hard t' believe, I know, but Swindle is so good at what he does that he can expect t' lay down rules an' have 'em followed. Once upon a time he just about owned th' black market. Now it's different, 'cause we're scattered everywhere, but once, if you pissed him off, life got a whole hell of a lot harder than necessary. Th' mech has connections everywhere."
"Even in the Autobots?" She frowned as Jazz nodded. "Wasn't he a Decepticon?"
"When it amuses him t' play-act it, sure. Other'n that he has no real loyalty. In fact, he's a 'con because Megatrondidn't like how rich th' black marketers were gettin', an' he decided he wanted a chunk of it. So he found Swindle, told him join th' 'cons or die, and got himself a genuine merchant. Did him absolutely no good, but he got one." Jazz rested his chin on his palm and smiled at the memories. "Matter of fact, Swindle an' his antics kept th' Combaticons in th' red most of th' time. He'd use Decepticon resources t' fund one of his… adventures, then pocket th' spoils himself."
"Wasn't he worried about getting caught?" Mikaela asked.
"Oh, sure. Actually happened fairly often- his boss Onslaught would notice th' difference in th' numbers, an' he'd go beat th' slag out of Swindle, assumin' he could find him. Then he'd clear out one of Swindle's accounts an' redirect it towards th' team's. What this taught Swindle was to be hard t' find an' keep multiple accounts under multiple names with nothin' in 'em."
Mikaela smiled at that, then nodded to the computer. "How's that going?"
"Ehh, decent." He scrolled up a little, studying his work. "Sam's still sulkin' 'bout his parents, I take it."
"He's worried about them," Mikaela said, her tone a warning. "He's got the right."
"Funny." Jazz cast her a quick sidelong look. "I don't see you workin' up a sweat over your folks."
Mikaela opened her mouth, then shut it. A moment later she tried again. "My family's different," she said stiffly.
"Well, the twins checked in again," Epps announced as he strolled into the room. "Decided they didn't want to leave Cincinnati and pretended to haveinterference on the line when Prowl tried to tell them to get back here. Are they always like that?"
"Like teenagers," Jazz agreed cheerfully. "They like to do their own thing, but if you yell at 'em a couple dozen times they'll listen. They'll whine an' complain an' call you names, of course, but they'll do as they're told."
"So why are they staying in Ohio anyways?" Mikaela added curiously. Epps shrugged.
"According to Prowl, they said they sensed something weird and were going to check it out." He shot a glance at Jazz. "Something about the way they were talking leads me to believe that the 'something weird' might have had a strong resemblance to you."
"They found Megatron," the saboteur muttered. He stared hard at the screen, listening to the silence around him. They all knew, but weren't willing to admit, that it would be best if the twins were to kill Megatron now, before he could recover his true form. The silence was awkward, and Epps hastily interrupted it.
"You've still got Sam's ipod?" he asked in amusement.
"Aren't you getting tired of hearing the same songs over and over?" Mikaela put in. "His playlisthas only like fifty songs on it."
Jazz cleared his throat and shifted in his chair. "Had," he corrected guiltily.
"Had," the sergeant echoed. "Meaning...?"
"Meanin' I might have, ya know, added to it."
Mikaela held out her hand. Feeling like a child caught stealing cookies, Jazz handed the little machine over. The teen scanned her way through the list, then abruptly stopped.
"Jazz!" she barked, waving the iPod at him. "What did you do to this?"
"I fixed it," he said defensively. Epps frowned at them, and Mikaela explained.
"It's a Shuffle," she said. "It's got two gigs of memory. Jazz has five gigs of music on it." She turned on the saboteur irritably. "So all this time you've been sitting here, you'vebeen messing with the iPod memory capacity and doing nothing about Ravage?"
"No!" the scandalized Autobot barked. "Not at all. Th' iPod took... ten minutes? Maybe fifteen?"
"You really like music, huh?" Epps took the iPod and studied it. Jazz shrugged helplessly.
"Not much music where I come from. 'Fore th' war, sure, but after it started, no one had time for anythin' so non-destructive. I was always considered somethin' of a freak 'cause I loved music. Comin' here, an' seein' how much music was a part of your culture..." He sighed and shook his head. There was no way to explain the joy he'd felt when he'd first tapped into the radio waves flowing around the planet and found himself submerged in an ocean of sound.
"It's all right," Mikaela said after a moment. She handed the iPod back. "So, just out of curiousity, how did you pay for all those?"
Jazz froze.
"Pay?" he echoed after almost a full minute of nothing. The teen groaned and turned away.
"Never mind, I don't want to know."
"Hey!" Sam came flying into the room, barely able to stop in time to avoid running full-tilt into the table. "Hey hey hey! Prime just called!"
Jazz shoved his chair back and lunged to his feet. Sam gestured hurriedly for them to follow him as he sprinted back into the hallway.
Prowl turned to regard them as they ran into the room. Jazz slid to a stop, momentarily considering but ultimately discarding the idea of climbing straight up the tactician's leg. Instead he bounced on the balls of his feet excitedly.
"Prime contacted you? Is he close? What'd he want?"
"Patience, Jazz," came the frustratingly calm response, and the saboteur caught himself just before he started cussing at his friend. After a moment he answered.
"Well, fine. You live a few days as human an' see how patient you are when your ticket out is takin' his own sweet time." He ignored the disapproving frown and took a few steps closer. "Is he still talkin' to you? Can I talk to him?"
"No. He didn't contact me; he sent a message through internal lines. He knows about Soundwave, and he says he should be back before midnight."
Jazz cheered and spun around. Seeing Sam closest, the saboteur tackled the teen, practically knocking him off his feet.
"What happened to three days?" Epps asked as he carefully put a healthy distance between himself and the exuberant Autobot.
"Who cares? He's comin' back tonight, that's all that matters!"
"Possibly Soundwave's presence encouraged him to hurry." As he was talking Prowl watched his fellow Autobot officer dance gleefully. "Jazz. Jazz!"
The saboteur stopped moving and took a moment to steady his breathing before turning back to face Prowl.
"I don't want Ravage here when Prime arrives," the tactician said slowly. Jazz grinned and nodded.
"No problem. I'll go take care of 'im now." Sending thanks to whichever deity happened to be listening, Jazz turned and ran back to the computer.
Poor Ravage, he thought. Then he laughed. Poor Ravage indeed. His conversation with Mikaela had given him an idea. He began to rework the code while directing the internet browser to a music download site.
This was going to be fun.
---
"—ke up! C'mon, get up!"
Megatron awoke suddenly but didn't open his eyes. He was hurt, he realized, although he couldn't locate any one particular pain. It was more of an all-over ache. He was also extremely uncomfortable, lying on something that only pretended to havecushioning and with his head tilted at an odd angle and jammed against something hard.
"Damn, he's still out of it. Exactly how much did you give him, anyways?"
"I don't know. I'm not a doctor."
"That's wonderful. You could have killed him."
"He tried to kill us!"
"Enough, children. He's not hurting anyone and he's perfectly healthy. Leave him be."
Slowly he opened one eye, trying to see where he was. He found himself looking at the back of a row of seats in a car. After moment he thought he remembered how he got here- Swindle let him out and drove off, and something had stung his neck... A man was sitting in the seat in front of him. Slowly he brought his hands up, remembering his first encounter with these cursed humans after becoming one. He was strong for a human, he knew. This fool would regret turning his back on Megatron.
The Decepticon lunged upright, bringing up his hands in preparation-
And yanked to a stop, painfully and suddenly.
"Holy shit!" The man in front of him jerked forward, twisting in his seat to stare with wide eyes at him. The other two men, even the one driving, both turned to watch as well. Megatron lifted his hands carefully and studied the metal bands around each wrist. A feeble-looking chain connected them to one another, and another chain connected to a small metal circle attached to the car floor. He nudged it with a toe and frowned at its firmness.
"Feel better?" someone asked. He snapped his gaze up and stared at the man sitting in the passenger's seat. It was that one who'd first drugged him. Megatron glared at him, torn between his own humilation and planning the human's slow and painful death.
"Friendly little thing, aren't you?" the boss laughed merrily. "So sorry about the cuffs, but we decided not to take any chances. You've made it plenty clear that you would turn me inside out if given a chance."
"No," Megatron said slowly. "I wouldn't. Your death would be much slower than that."
The man laughed again, but the other two both looked nervous. The one sitting just in front of Megatron spoke first. "Uhh... boss? I don't think he was kidding."
"Oh yeah, like I'm worried. He's not going anywhere and if he gets too rambunctious, we have this." The boss held up a small thing, a clear tube with a milky fluid in it, and Megatron recognized it as the thing that the human had jabbed into him twice. Drugs, then. He watched the man wave it around for a moment. "See? Instant respect."
Megatron snorted and turned his gaze down to his restraints. He curled both hands into fists and pulled, trying to snap the chain connecting his wrists. After a few moments his hands began to shake with the effort and he had to stop. The chain showed no sign of weakening. He scowled at that, then reached down and seized the chain near the floor and pulled up. Again, it showed no sign of budging.
"Done?" the infuriating man asked him when he sat back up in irate defeat. "You're not gonna break those, so don't even bother trying."
The 'con set his shoulders and sneered. He would not be defeated by mere humans. Not even if he was one. He twisted his hands, preparing to repeat his previous attempt, then paused. The cuff was loose- not the chain, but the cuff itself. Not built to stand up to as much stress as the chain, it had loosened drastically. Another two notches and he would be able to slide his hands out with ease.
Megatron gathered his strength and began to pull again. If he didn't keep trying the humans would get suspicious. He kept his head down, watching as the cuffs slid a little more.
"You're really annoying," the driver informed him. For some reason, when the man spoke, Megatron mentally labelled him 'Starscream'.
"Shut up," he answered, automatically disliking the man for the comparison. Then he smiled darkly, for the cuffs had slid enough that he could easily slip his hands out. All he needed now was his chance.
He fought the chain for several minutes longer, then slumped into his seat and stared out the window. One of the men in the front muttered "finally," but he didn't care which one it was. They would soon be dead men anyways.
Megatron stared out the window. And he smiled.
---
Swindle cursed and dodged around a minivan, trying to hide his neon bulk behind the beige road-whale. The black SUV had swerved into the lane ahead of him, meaning he was no longer shielded by the mobile home he'd been pacing. After a moment the car swerved back into its lane, now about half a mile ahead, and Swindle eased out from behind the minivan and nudged his speed up.
He'd been tracking Megatron's snatchers for half an hour now. At first he'd worried that he wouldn't find them, but he'd clearly underestimated the strength of the spark signal Megatron gave off. This worried him- if he wasn't quick, Barricade or Dead End might find their dear leader first, and then Swindle would be in trouble. He'd pretty much made his allegiances clear when he'd let the humans take Megatron, if not sooner when he'd set Starscream free.
Idly he wondered how the seeker was doing. He'd heard nothing about or from him since he'd told Screamer about Megatron. So far the seeker was doing an absolutely abysmal job at being a distraction.
Swindle's plan, such as it was, included taking a trip down to California. Getting off the planet meant relying on someone with a ship, and since Soundwave's ship had large holes instead of engines, that left the Autobots. Naturally he needed something a little harder to say no to than just strolling up to their base and asking if he could borrow the Ark for a while, and threatening to blow up random cities until they agreed gave them the chance to set up traps. No, he needed something more immediate and more personal.
He had decided on 'borrowing' one of their pet humans.
First, he needed to do something about Megatron. He'd worked over one of his jamming devices and was fairly confident that it would mute even Megatron's obmoxiously bright signature. So now he was following the humans, waiting until they stopped and got out so he could slip the jammer in.
He hummed a cheerful tune to himself, then laughed for no reason. Things were going remarkably well. All he needed now was a little bit of luck, and luck had always been with him.
Life had never looked better.
---
Ravage was off-line when it started.
An alarm went off in his processor, immediately waking him up. He did a quick scan and found his firewalls had been broken and a virus was being uploaded into his CPU. He tried to scramble emergency defenses but the hacker was obviously well-prepared for such a thing. The virus started reacting before it was even finished loading, seeping into his defenses and corrupting the processes.
The hack ended as soon as it began, but the virus remained. It went after his automotive and transforming systems next, shutting them down with ease. Then it stilled and sat there, waiting for his response to its presence.
He considered contacting Soundwave, whose firewalls were far superior and would be able to handle this with no problem. The he decided against it, thinking about the ragging he'd get from Rumble. He was piecing his firewalls together again when an odd noise stopped him.
"What's new pussycat? Whoooa! What's new pussycat? Whoooa! Pussycat pussycat I've got flowers and lots of hours to spend with you..."
Ravage did a quick scan of the area around him, then stopped. He was making that awful noise. And it was changing.
"We are Siamese if you ple-ease... we are Siamese if you don't please..."
The noise was coming from his own vocal processor. He shut it off and silence reigned for a moment. Then it clicked back on.
"Everybody wants to be a cat, cause a cat's the only cat who knows where he's at..."
"I've got a little kitty cat who never chased a mouse... all she want to do all day is lounge around the house..."
"Black and orange stray cats sittin' on a fence... ain't got enough dough to pay the rent..."
-Soundwave!- Ravage yelped across their internal line. -Soundwave, help!-
-Easy, kitty-cat, I'm... what is that?!-
Of course it was Rumble who answered first. Ravage tried desperately to stop the noise but the virus wouldn't have it. Anytime he shut off his vocaliser, the virus snapped it back on-line.
-I need Soundwave to help with a virus.-
-Virus, huh? Is that what it's called nowadays?
-Rumble!-
-Alright, I'm going.-
Ravage tried to shut his audios off and was finally, thankfully, rewarded with silence. Then the virus flexed, and that horrible noise came back. Between it and Rumble's laughter, Ravage was sure his audios were going to burn out soon.
If he didn't kill himself first.
---
His moment came as the sun was just finished setting.
They stopped at a gas station near a large forest. All three humans got out and the non-whiny one reached through the back door, swinging the seat in front of him down.
"There's an outside bathroom over there," he gestured as he reached over with a key. Megatron turned his hands so the cuffs' looseness wasn't clearly visible and watched as the man unlocked the chain from the floor. "You're only allowed in if one of us is with you, preferrably not me. We're getting food so if you have some special allergy or something, now is the time to tell us."
He didn't even know what an allergy was, so he shook his head and carefully climbed out. From the way he was talking, they expected one of them to be able to handle him. A foolish mistake.
The bathroom was filthy, and Megatron sneered when the whiny one told him to hurry up and go. He may be human against his own will, but he had standards and this didn't begin to meet them. After a moment of staring, he took one step forward and stopped, hunching over to hide his actions as he slid his hands out of the cuffs.
"Hey," the human behind him stepped forward, reaching under his jacket. Presumably he was going for a weapon, and Megatron watched him in the mirror in hope. Instead the man produced a cell phone.
Two seconds later the cell phone hit the ground as the Decepticon swung around and grabbed the human by the throat. Last time he'd been careless and hadn't ensured the human's death. This time he intended to make no such error. He wrapped one hand around the man's neck and hefted him off the floor, letting him dangle.
The man clawed at his hand for a moment. Then he reached under his jacket again, fumbling with what looked like a human-sized gun. Megatron slammed his back against the wall and grabbed at the gun with his free hand, careful to keep it pointed away from himself. The man was starting to make odd strangling noises and his struggles were growing weaker.
Then something hit Megatron across the back of the head and sent him to his knees in sudden, blinding pain. The whiny man crawled away, gasping for air, and the boss stepped around the kneeling 'con to check on him. The man straightened and scowled.
"Try that again, we rent a sedan and you spend the rest of the trip in the trunk." He reached into a pocket and produced the cylinder containing the drugs.
"... un..." the whiny man rasped.
"What?"
"...g... gun!"
Megatron whipped the gun up, trying to figure out how to work it as he did so. Evidently he managed, for the thing bucked and produced a thunderclap of noise. The boss recoiled as the bullet hit the mirror and shattered it. He grabbed at the weapon, and Megatron let him have it. He lunged to his feet, slamming one elbow under the man's chin, then took off out the door and into the forest.
After several minutes of running Megatron stopped and leaned against a tree, rubbing at his sore wrists and simply letting himself breathe. He was free of the humans, although now he was on his own. The only thing he could do was find someone to drive him back to Cincinnati and hope Barricade found him before Swindle or- Primus forbid- Starscream did.
From the direction of the road came a soft and steady thumping noise, accompanied by the cracking of branches and rustling of leaves. At first Megatron thought it was some sort of organic predator. Then he heard the quiet humming of mechanical systems and the rushing noise of vents cycling.
He growled low in his throat and ducked into the forest, heading deeper. He needed to find someplace small, someplace a mech couldn't get into. There was no point in trying to hide, for even in this nighttime forest his spark guaranteed discovery.
The noises faded and Megatron felt pleased with himself for losing his pursuer, at least for a moment. He slowed to a fast walk and pushed through a curtain of branches-
And stepped into a clearing in which Swindle stood waiting.
"You went in a circle," the mech explained calmly as Megatron gaped at him.
"What do you want?" he demanded finally. Swindle shrugged.
"Nothing much," he replied. "Just for Soundwave and the others to never find you. So I adapted one of my jammers to mask your spark and left it in the car while your friends were looking for you. And now we're going to go back to the car and we're not going to escape again, all right?"
"Why don't you just kill me?" he asked irritably. Swindle's utter lack of loyalty was no surprise, nor were the extents he was going to to ensure Megatron's disappearance.
"Because this is so much more fun." The 'con took a step forward and Megatron groaned.
He ran, of course. He couldn't not run. It did no good, as he'd known, and within ten minutes he was being tossed onto the road, dropping practically on top of the whiny human. He resigned himself to being chained, and to having one of the humans check his restraints every few minutes, and to the boss giving him a half-dose of the drugs, which kept him mellow but conscious. He looked around for the jamming device and couldn't care enough to be mad when he didn't find it.
He leaned against the window and watched the world flash by and half-heartedly hated every second of it.
As soon as he got his true body back, Swindle was a dead mech.
---
"Stupid... slagging... monkeys!"
Starscream tried to twist around and see if he'd gotten the last of the muck off his wings. The water dripping off his frame was clear, but he'd flown far enough that the filth on him had dried and caked itself to him.
The pond he'd found was a small one in a place called Colorado. He was surrounded by forests and mountains, which was why he'd chosen here to land and try to clean himself off. After a moment he gave up and transformed, scanning his wings repeatedly. He'd developed an alarming tendency to pitch towards the right during the flight here, no doubt due to the gunk on his wings.
His scans came up clean so Starscream took off, flying slowly to check for any more balance issues. Really, having a jet form was so frustrating. It needed constant care and more wear-and-tear repairs than any other form, but it was all worth it when he got to leave all the other 'cons in the dust. Seekers may be delicate, but if no one could keep up with him he didn't need to worry about that.
A flash of color below caught his attention and he banked widely, sketching a lazy circle through the air as he waited for the whatever-it-is to come out from under the shield of trees. When it did he almost fired up his engines and took off.
Optimus Prime.
The seeker turned sharply and was about to leave this place in the dust when he stopped. Prime hadn't noticed him, obviously. And there was a golden opportunity here, for Prime was approaching a stretch of road that followed a cliff. No trees, no guard rail... just open air.
And because he was a Decepticon at spark, Starscream simply couldn't resist.
He cycled out one of his guns and hung back, staying out of scanning range. As a seeker his scanners were far more advanced- they needed to be, to keep him from flying into things at mach oh-my-Primus. He carefully positioned himself, trying not to get too impatient even though the Autobot was driving almost painfully slow.
Then Prime was on the cliff, and Starscream moved.
He swooped in, firing not at the Autobot, but at the road and the cliff face below him. At first Starscream thought his oh-so-brilliant scheme was going to fail, as the frail-looking rock held its form surprisingly well. Then Prime, in response to being shot at, transformed. His shifting weight proved to be too much stress for the eroded rock, and the road began to crumble away.
For a moment Prime kept his balance, backing away quickly but steadily. He even had the presence of mind to pull out a gun, and Starscream was preparing to leave when something gave a loud crack. The seeker turned back just in time to see Prime slip and fall, vanishing into the not-so-comfortable cushioning of trees in the valley below.
Starscream waited until the rockslide stopped and nothing was moving. He took a few short, hopping flights closer but stayed away from the road itself. Prime was a tough mech; a drop off a cliff would be nothing to him. The seeker readied his guns, waiting for the Autobotto show himself- he inevitably would, if he wanted out of there. Otherwise he was trapped in a valley with no other way out.
Something laying on the torn cement glittered dully. Starscream hesitated, then moved a little closer and ran a scan. The energy signature was instantly familiar. A quick glance revealed no threat of Prime appearing, so the seeker blasted towards the road. He transformed mid-air and landed gingerly. After a moment to make sure he was balanced properly, he knelt and retrieved the scrap of metal. Engraved on it were a few glyphs and part of a circle.
Ah, well. If I can't find Megatron, I can at least guarantee he won't be getting this.
The jet chuckled darkly and tucked the scrap of metal into his cockpit. Then he stood and carefully leaned over to peer over the cliff, his null rays whining in preparation.
Prime wasn't there.
"Oh slag," the seeker muttered. He didn't bother with scanning or even transforming. He simply leapt into the air, intent on putting as much distance between himself and this place as possible-
A hand seized his leg and swung him around, slamming him into the ground hard enough that his CPU momentarily stuttered. As he cycled through his systems, trying to sort through the various alarms and shut them all off, a dark shadow interposed itself between the jet and the sky.
"Hello, Starscream," Optimus Prime said, sounding tired and annoyed. Quite understandably, really.
"How did you get on the road?" the seeker asked, then immediately swore at himself. Judging by his lack of a reaction Prime was as yet unaware that he no longer had the Allspark fragment. Starscream needed to leave before he figured it out.
"I climbed. You're just not observant enough. What do you want?"
"Uhh... to say hello?" the jet tried. Prime wasn't going to kill him, that much was obvious. The point of this conversation was to remind the Decepticon how much more powerful his enemy was.
"You always shoot at mechs before you say hello to them?"
"Formal Decepticon greeting," the seeker countered instantly. Which was a bluff, of course, but he doubted Prime believed him anyways.
"Sadly enough, that might actually be true." Prime cycled his vents and stepped away. "I don't have time to deal with you, Starscream."
Under normal circumstances Starscream would be grossly insulted by such a comment. This time he leapt up and transformed, anxious to get out of there.
"Thank you for your mercy," he said in a tone that had never failed to annoy Megatron into drop-kicking the seeker out of his presence. "I appreciate your generous allowance of my survival. I-"
"Oh, just... go," Prime snapped. Without another word the seeker blasted off, not easing up until he was several miles away. There he landed and transformed again, carefully studying his find. The Allspark shard. The only surviving piece of the great Cube that had forged their race. Megatron's one hope.
The seeker closed his fist around it and laughed. This day had just gotten a lot better.
---
The Allspark piece was nowhere to be found.
Prime stopped trying to shift a particularly large boulder and sat back with a groan. It was time to admit it- he had no idea where the small metal scrap had hidden itself, and it could take him years to find it. He'd scanned for it repeatedly but, as small as it was, it had a small energy signature that could only be read within a certain distance. The thing could be fifty feet away and he'd never find it.
He turned and followed the same path he'd taken earlier onto the road. The sudden assault had been a shock, but Prime had caught a glimpse of the seeker as he'd been falling. Starscream, ever the predictable one, had been too impatient to wait for a better shot and too cocky about his temporary victory over the Autobot leader to pay attention. Prime had climbed back onto the road a ways down, knowing the seeker would be congratulating himself, and...
And Starscream had been hunched over, picking up something small.
"Oh no," he muttered. He quickly pulled himself onto the road and headed towards where the 'con had been standing. There was nothing there, of course, but his scanners picked up a faint trace of the Allspark's energy.
Prime stepped back and stood still, scanning the sky and hoping against all reason that Starscream was still nearby. He should have known. He should have realized the seeker had been too compliant, too quiet, too hasty to leave. There had been not one insult or shrill whine, which Prime had been grateful for then. Now he knew better.
There was no helping it. The seeker had made good his escape and was long gone. Prime's only consolance was that there was no way Megatron would be getting the Allspark piece as long as Starscream had it.
Jazz was going to be furious.