Ghost in the Machine
By: Ghost of the Dawn
Chapter Four: Other Voices
The twins stared dumbly at their radio.
"What do you supposed he means by that?" Sunstreaker demanded, turning up his nose at Jazz's order.
"I dunno. I don't think Jazz has much confidence in us," Sideswipe responded. "I mean look at him, he's just standing there. All Prowl does all day is sit on his aft and order us to do all the fighting. I don't care if he's second-in-command, we're bigger than him, the two of us can take him."
Sunstreaker got an evil grin. "Maybe now would be a good time for us to get payback for all the things he's busted us for in the past."
"Yeah," Sideswipe agreed, body tensing in excitement. "We're just doing it for his own good, right? Can't have poor Prowlie running around as some human's slave. He'll thanks us for this in the long run."
He looked to his brother for agreement.
Sunstreaker grinned wickedly. "Let's get him."
Ignoring Jazz's continuous demands for their response, the twins lurched forward toward the black and white bot. Prowl had not moved the entire time nor did he make any attempt to defend or attack as the brothers charged him.
As soon as he was in range, Sunstreaker threw a punch. It connected solidly with Prowl's open palm and before he knew it, Sunstreaker was face down on the ground.
Sideswipe stopped his attack, stunned by Prowl's quick reaction. Sunstreaker was already down and it had all been a blur. Prowl was now looking at him and Sideswipe boiled with indignance.
"Hey! You can't do that to my brother!" Sideswipe lunged. Prowl seemed to move as effortlessly as water over rocks. In one smooth motion, Sideswipe's arm was behind his back and he was flipped into the air over Prowl's head and landed back-to-back on top of his brother. Both grunted as they collided, stunned at how quickly the tables had turned.
Prowl was standing over them and, this time, Sideswipe finally got the warning bells of common sense ringing in his central processor.
"Sunny! Scatter!"
The Lamborghinis scrambled away as Prowl attacked again. They ran several paces before turning to look back. Prowl was still standing there, just watching them.
"It's like he's taunting us!" Sunstreaker snarled. "Slagger thinks he's better than us!"
"Well he did kind of just kick both our cans," Sideswipe offered.
Sunstreaker glared at his opponent. "No, he can't be THAT good. There's no way he can take both of us out at once. We'll attack together on both sides. He can't cover two angles at once."
Sideswipe nodded. "I'm with you, bro."
They transformed into car mode. The twin Lamborghinis revved their engines. Prowl waited.
"Go," Sunstreaker ordered.
They both peeled out, racing toward the faceless Autobot. They meant to transform right before reaching their opponent and attack him simultaneously, but Prowl was ready. He ran forward, throwing off the twins' timing. Sunstreaker was in the midst of transforming when Prowl shoved his hand right through the yellow sports car's side window. Glass shattered and frames were bent as the snared Sunstreaker had his own momentum used against him. Prowl spun him effortlessly in a full arc, knocking him nose-first into a partially transformed Sideswipe. The two fell into a deformed pile.
"Sun!" Sideswipe gasped with realization of their mistake. "This is still Prowl! He knows all our moves!"
The second Sideswipe said those words, he felt Prowl's hand punch through his chest with deadly precision.
"No! No, no!" Dr. Kraus barked as he and his assisting technicians watched Prowl's actions on the monitor. "I need those two Autobots functioning! I can't reprogram totaled robots! Get that white one to stop attacking them!"
"I can't, sir!" The young tech typed at the keyboard frantically. "He's overriding part of the commands. It's as if he's choosing which orders to follow. The prime directive is the same, but he's carrying it out the way he wants to!"
"Impossible!" Dr. Kraus insisted. "It's just a machine! You programmed it wrong!"
"It was exactly the same as the others, sir," the young tech was sweating now. "It--it must have been that extra program we saw. It must be allowing the robot some form of choice."
"Tell it to return. We need to fix that robot."
"I'll try, sir."
"Sir, what about the other two?" another tech called. "We've got them cornered, but we're not gaining any ground with them hiding under that force field. The two on our side can't break through."
"Get the planes to help them out. We need to get those two deactivated before the others come."
"Been on it, sir," Astrotrain's tech called. "It's not moving."
"Keep at it," Dr. Kraus insisted. "Force fields take power. That robot can't hold it forever."
"Sir?" called the stressed tech at Prowl's controls. "The white robot is starting to do something else..."
Prowl had finished with the twins. It didn't take long. All he needed were the two to be non-functional and completely out of the game. There was no need for brutal acts of violence for this. Once the twins were down, all it took was a precise punch to the chest and removal of the motor relay component to leave the brothers unable to move their arms and legs.
These actions were not decided by the confused programmer feeding Prowl suggestions. The reprogramming process worked by making the body believe the outside suggestions were their own desires and that they were doing what they truly wanted and not something someone else was telling them to do. With Prowl, he received his prime directive-- the unprogrammed Autobots were the enemies and needed to be taken out quickly-- and fully believed those were the actions he wanted to take.
But everything else afterward-- the way his processor was telling him to handle the enemies-- Prowl didn't agree to. He kept having the idea that he should not damage them so they could be reprogrammed immediately, but Prowl was always second-guessing himself. He had better ideas.
Programmed enemies always had the potential for dissent. It didn't seem logical to rely on a hasty procedure during the heat of battle. This type of thing demanded proper time and attention to detail. No, he wouldn't risk a sloppy hack job in which an ally would suddenly turn on him during an opportune point of the battle.
His other idea was better. Disable the enemies with minimal damage, but render them completely useless. When others come and see the bodies, then intimidation would be on his side. They would see his victory and be hesitant to attack. Then he would swoop in with full force and take victory. Only then would he take the fallen bodies in to be assimilated.
That was the preferred plan of action. No matter how many times the other suggestion of reprogramming the bodies now flipped through his thoughts he ignored it. Acting upon his new plan, Prowl drove over to where all the others were attacking Trailbreaker's force field.
Trailbreaker saw Prowl coming. "Great, here comes another one."
"How're ya holding up?" Ironhide asked. "Can ya wait until the others get here?"
"I might, as long as they keep using this generic ammo on us," Trailbreaker replied. "Got at least 15 minutes of power left. Prime should be here by then. We just need patience."
Prowl walked up and looked the situation over. He only glanced at the two trapped Autobots for a second before looking skyward and sending a radio signal to Skywarp who stopped firing on them immediately.
Ironhide and Trailbreaker peered through the force field veil in curiosity as all firing on them ceased.
"I don't like the look of that at--"
Ironhide was cut off as Skywarp suddenly materialized within the force field, still in jet mode and going several hundred miles per hour. The seeker tore through the two Autobots, causing Trailbreaker to lose concentration and drop his force field in surprise.
The remaining two Autobots fell backward from the attack, damaged, while Prowl and Wheeljack quickly removed their motor relays from their chests.
Dr. Kraus was fit to pull his own hair out. Why were they all obeying that Autobot?! What was going on? Then, like lightning to the brain, it all made sense.
His appearance of having complete control over these robots had been an illusion. He wasn't really controlling them, merely making them believe his suggestions were their own.
His mistake had been to put a high ranking officer among his numbers. Autobot or Decepticon, both were soldiers and did what a higher ranking officer told them to do, whether they wanted to do it or not. The only question remained was why THAT Autobot was not doing what they were telling it to do.
Unbeknownst to him, Prowl was used to hearing voices in his head. They were always there, offering myriad different ideas and plans. He would pick and choose the most prudent course of action. Kraus' orders were merely one voice among many fighting for attention within Prowl's thoughts.
If Kraus had a higher ranking soldier than Prowl among his numbers, the problem would have solved itself. Prowl was a solder, too, and as such, took orders above his own. But as he didn't see anyone else ranking higher than him, Prowl took control and the others followed.
"What do you want us to do, Sir?" asked one of the programming team as he approached. "We finished with the blue one. He's ready to go out."
The scientist watched the screen and breathed out loudly from his nose.
"They're still fighting on our side. They'll still attack the other Autobots when they come. Send that new one out. We'll play the rest by ear." He looked down at the tech on Prowl's control. "Just keep me informed of what that white one is doing at all times."
"Yes, sir!" the tech responded. He looked a bit alarmed that they were still going forward, but turned back to the screen to do his job.
Dr. Kraus sighed again and turned to go back into his main control room. Maybe something in his research notes could help him figure out what was going on. The silence and the solitude would help him think.
He hadn't finished walking when the entire wall exploded and a great blue hand reached for him. Behind the carnage, a signal sounded new arrivals to the area.
The cavalry had arrived. With Jazz and Optimus Prime in the lead, the group appeared from the woods. They arranged themselves out of sight in the tree line to look down at the battle zone. Jazz was in the front, using his optic band to get all the information he could on the scene below. Autobots and Decepticons alike were milling about the open area. The lifeless bodies of the first team were clearly laying about. Ironhide and Trailbreaker were already being dragged towards the underground bunker.
Optimus turned to his team of remaining Autobots: Ratchet, Brawn, Huffer, Windcharger, Bluestreak, and Tracks.
"Autobots, we will need to move quickly and carefully. We need to remove the injured and then try to detain our comrades. Try to immobilize. Inflict only as much damage as you have to."
"What about the Decepticons?" Huffer piped up. "Do we just treat them like normal or..?"
"I only see two of them," Jazz relayed as he scanned the area. "Ramjet is down for the count. No sign of Starscream on the ground or in the sky."
"Do what you have to do,"Optimus answered. "Take them out, but do not shoot to kill. This incident goes above factions. We'll let Megatron sort out his own when this is over. Anyone have any questions?"
No one did.
"Brawn, cover Ratchet as he checks the wounded," Optimus continued. "See if you can get any of them back up for battle."
"Depends on their status, but I'll try," Ratchet nodded.
"They don't look in bad shape, aside from being out for the count," Jazz said. "Ol' Prowl needs them functioning for something."
"You mean whomever is controlling Prowl needs them functioning," Brawn clarified.
"What I mean is what I said," Jazz shot back.
Bluestreak just looked worriedly towards the open area. He didn't like the situation at all.
"Autobots," Optimus ordered. "Follow me."
They ran on foot until they reached ground smooth enough for driving.
Prowl paused from overseeing the operation to watch the group of Autobots driving toward him. He radioed those working under him. They all stopped what they were doing and turned to attack under Prowl's order.
Technical assistants and security personnel alike scrambled to get out of the way as Starscream forced himself through the wall and into the larger part of the hanger. Several men stopped to shoot him with their rifles. The bullets were little more than an annoyance to the Decepticon and he hardly took notice as he pulled his other leg out and stood to his full size over the startled humans.
There was a stinging on Starscream's leg, causing him to suddenly lose power. He glanced down in anger to see one of the techs running away, a sizzling disk left on his shin. He could feel that horrible contraption just sucking the life out of him at an alarming speed. It made him tired and furious at the same time and he fought it with all his strength.
A few more seconds and he would have lost all power in his limbs. It would have been the end for his tirade. But a red-haired human woman poked her head around his leg. Crystal saw the disk and instantly tried to get it off. The disk scorched her hands when she touched it, but she needed this Decepticon to get her out of there. Gritting her teeth, Crystal attacked it again. The electricity burned and made her muscles spasm, but she managed to tear it off.
Starscream felt his power come back instantly. At his feet, other humans had more of the devices in their hands. He snarled in anger as he fired a constant heavy beam from his null ray at them. Humans ran everywhere as the beam tore up the floor at their feet and then cut through their equipment. Panels and monitors melted and exploded in its wake. Within a mere matter of seconds, the entire operation center was scrapped and burning beyond repair.
Starscream smirked at his handiwork. That had felt so good. Now his captives were either wounded on the ground or running for their lives. Dr. Kraus was nowhere to be seen, but Starscream still felt thoroughly vindicated and took a moment to revel in it.
But there was one thing he had almost forgotten: the human woman who helped him escape. There would certainly be Autobots running around outside. He could use her as a hostage. He looked behind him where the human had been shadowing him for safety during the attack. She was gone. Starscream glanced all around. The human was nowhere to be found.
As soon as Starscream let loose on the equipment, Crystal had run. She remembered what Jazz had told her about him: Starscream double-crossed everyone. Crystal had no doubt that the moment Starscream had finished exacting his revenge on his captors he would turn on her. She certainly wasn't going to stick around for that. Jazz said he was coming for her and she was going to find him.
She ran up the ramp into the open night air as fast as her legs would carry her. Others were fleeing as well, but none of them noticed her as a stranger to the operation in the panic. Once outside, Crystal found that it wasn't as pitch dark as it had been before. As the staff evacuated, someone had flipped on several flood lights which lit up the area. The massive robots battling outside were hardly hindered, lights or no lights. The beams from their weapons glittered all over the area.
Next to Crystal stood one of those robots: black and white and faceless with his gun pointed right at her. Crystal froze.
The battle had been an interesting one. Prowl knew the strengths and weaknesses of the Autobots he was fighting and ordered his own team accordingly. Unfortunately, Jazz and Optimus Prime were familiar with Prowl's strategies as well. It made for slow movement on both sides.
Optimus Prime's team hit hard right off the bat and gained the ground where Ironhide and Trailbreaker's bodies lay. Brawn provided cover fire for Ratchet as the medic looked the two bodies over.
"They took out the motor relays," Ratchet observed as he peered into Trailbreaker's chest cavity. "Without them, there's nothing getting movement signals from the main processor to their limbs. This is definitely Prowl's work. We've had several conversations on the fastest way to take out an enemy with the least amount of damage and energy spent."
"Fascinatin', Doc," Brawn grouched as he tried to get a good shot at Skywarp. "But can you get them back online?"
"Possibly, If I can find those missing components and if they're not too damaged."
A blue light emanated from Ratchet's chest as he scanned the ground for mechanical parts.
"Ah, there's one."
Right as he was reaching for it, invisible tires sped past, crushing and shattering the component under their weight.
"What the?!" Ratchet demanded at the unseen assailant.
The sound of the growling engine sped off to the line of Autobots led by Optimus Prime. All called out in surprise as a solid force raced for their legs, knocking them all on the ground.
"I found Mirage," Bluestreak sing-songed as he raised his hand.
"Now comes the hard part," Tracks said as he got up. "Finding him again."
The blue Corvette lined up the dust trail from the speeding invisible car in his cross hairs and took several shots, hoping to hit the tires. He missed every time.
One shot, however, did hit its mark and Bluestreak grinned at the familiar pop of a ruptured tire. Tracks frowned at his silly grin.
"Get on him! Hold him down!" Optimus ordered.
"On it, Prime," Windcharger called. His magnetic field sought out the invisible Mirage and locked on him. The unseen engine roared in anger. "He's not going anywhere."
"That's one down!" Jazz announced.
"Only three Autobots and two Decepticons to go," Optimus nodded.
Just then, several small explosions rumbled from the underground bunker. Prowl, who had been standing right next to the hanger entrance, heard it clearly. Several humans, most of them armed and in uniform, were running out as smoke wafted out from underground.
Prowl took a moment to assess. These humans were not registered under his list of enemies. Were they his allies, then? They just seemed so frail and useless. The little creatures scattered in fear. They were no help at all in this battle. Maybe it would be best to get rid of them. Prowl saw no point in keeping them around. It just didn't seem logical.
As Prowl raised his weapon, considering all plans of action, Crystal ran out of the bunker. She stopped dead in her tracks and stared in horror at the gun aimed at her and then at the gaping exposed mesh of wires where Prowl's face used to be. What had they done to him?
Prowl paused when his optics registered her. She was neither in uniform nor was she armed. But she had been with the others. It didn't seem logical to spare some and not others. Either they were all his enemies or none of them were.
As Prowl balanced his options over the stunned human woman, a yellow Lamborghini swerved in the way. Sunstreaker arced wide between the two, side drifting right towards Crystal.
"Duck!" the yellow car ordered.
Crystal ducked as the car slid towards her, side door open. In an impressive display of finesse and control, the Lamborghini neatly scooped up the human in his passenger seat as he spun and then peeled out, leaving Prowl to wonder what happened.
Crystal also had to take a moment to realize what happened. One moment she was standing there staring down the barrel of a very large gun. The next moment she was sitting in a car and speeding away.
"Uh oh," Sunstreaker said as Prowl transformed and started racing after him. "Looks like I really pissed off Prowl this time."
Sunstreaker knew, as most Autobots did, that there was very little Prowl hated more than when one of his plans went awry. And Sunstreaker was definitely awry right now.
It was true that Prowl had earlier removed Sunstreaker's motor relay and, despite not being damaged any other way, that should have kept the yellow Autobot out of action for the duration of the battle. What Prowl didn't know was that Sunstreaker still had a second, smaller relay in his body. Its purpose was to help him be more precise in his hand work when he did painting and intricate architecture back on Cybertron. He hadn't done any of that for millions of years, but he always kept the component just in case.
It was lucky he did. The small relay had enough power to get the half transformed Sunstreaker all the way into car mode. He was stuck in car mode until he could be repaired, but he could still drive.
Sunstreaker drove for his life and Prowl was hot on his tail lights.
"Stop dinking around and help me, you slaggers!" Sunstreaker called as he raced by Optimus Prime and his team. "I can't transform!"
As they raced by, Jazz saw the human passenger in Sunstreaker's front seat. He saw her wide-eyed expression and her look of recognition as they passed by.
"Crys..." Jazz transformed and jetted after the two cars without a second thought.
Optimus Prime kept his attention on the matter at hand. Despite Mirage's earlier efforts, Ratchet had found the other discarded motor relay. He had quickly installed it into Trailbreaker with little trouble. Now Wheeljack and Hound were confined harmlessly inside his force field. That left the two Decepticon planes to deal with.
"Tracks," Optimus ordered. "Get in the sky and take out those planes. Everyone else give him cover fire. Ratchet, try Mirage first and see if you can get him fixed or at the very least shut down."
"On it, Prime," Ratchet nodded. He glanced down once at the immobile Ironhide who was still fully functional and aware of everything going on around him. He just couldn't move.
Ratchet tapped Ironhide on his helmet, knowing he could hear him.
"Sorry to keep you out of the action, old friend. Next time I'll give you the force field generator and we'll leave Trailbreaker out."
Ratchet smirked as he got up. He could just imagine what angry retort Ironhide had for him. Mirage was his patient now. Windcharger still had the invisible Autobot in his magnetic field as his engine was roaring his dissatisfaction with the whole ordeal.
Ratchet knelt on top of Mirage to keep him down and felt his way around the vehicle's invisible hood. He found the hatch he was looking for and flipped it open. Though Mirage's armor was invisible, his inner circuitry was not. Once Ratchet could see what he was doing he pulled out a small device-- a screen with a keypad and a long plug -- and plugged it into Mirage's motherboard.
"How's it look, Ratchet?" Windcharger asked.
"We'll see in a minute." This wasn't his specialty. Ratchet was far better at fixing physical parts than internal programming. Such a task was better left to someone like Perceptor or even Wheeljack, though he would never admit to that out loud. All he could hope was that this human hack job was as basic and primitive as he knew their knowledge of robots to be and that he could fix it soon.
Far away and moving farther still, Sunstreaker was running from Prowl while he was being trailed by Jazz. The chase was getting up to dangerous speeds and Sunstreaker's human passenger was feeling the affects.
"Too fast. We're definitely going too fast," Crystal panted as she dug her fingernails into the seat.
"Shut up and stop scratching up my interior!" Sunstreaker shot back in a highly agitated voice. "I'm trying to keep us from getting slagged, here!"
Prowl was gaining. Sunstreaker hadn't thought the police car was capable of keeping up with him. But then again, Sunstreaker was trying to find the smoothest path through the bumpy countryside to prevent dings to his paint while Prowl barreled straight on through everything.
"Jazz! Get him off!" Sunstreaker cried over the radio. "I don't know how much longer I can keep this up!" And it was the truth. From the earlier hole Prowl had punched, a large part of the engine was exposed and dust was clogging up everything. It was just a matter of time before he kicked up something that would really mess his engine up.
"I'm working on it, hold on," Jazz radioed back.
He put on the speed to try to intercept Prowl, but the Datsun was onto him. Prowl sped up, too. His nose moved slightly past Sunstreaker's rear bumper. Then Prowl gave the Lamborghini a very small, but very precise bump just at the right time.
At the speed he was going, one bump was all it took for Sunstreaker to spin out of control. His human passenger was gritting her teeth too hard to scream as he fish tailed over the uneven ground before hitting a large bump. That was enough to send them into the air and Sunstreaker flipped brutally nose over tail along the ground. The rocks and dirt ripped him up as he hit it again and again, parts flying everywhere.
Sunstreaker crunched to a stop on his hood, smoking and tires still spinning. Crystal was held upside down by her seatbelt and didn't dare move until she realized she was no longer moving and still in one piece.
She coughed as she looked around. There was a pressure in her chest and her cheek had a sharp stinging pain.
"Hey," she managed to rasp at the mangled dashboard. "Are you okay?"
The totaled car was silent.
"Are you alive?" she asked in a smaller voice.
No response.
Feeling panic creep over her, Crystal fumbled to get out of her seatbelt.
"Please don't be dead, please don't be dead," she repeated under her breath as she got free and tried to maneuver herself out of the car.
Broken glass cut into her arms and hands as she wriggled out of the bent window frame. Coughing again, she stood up to look the car over. It didn't look good.
"Come on, please be alive," She begged as she slapped her palm on his frame. "Make a noise, anything!"
Blinding lights fell on her and Crystal moved to cover her eyes. Prowl stood over her with his headlights on and this time, it was not funny. She blinked at the robot once thought of as a friend, but now feeling very much foreign to her.
Another pair of headlights appeared followed by a growling Porsche. Jazz drove head first for Prowl, transforming as he lunged for him at top speed. The two robots collided with a deafening clash of metal and hit the ground so hard Crystal felt it quake under her feet.
Prowl threw Jazz off him, He skidded several feet, heels digging deep trenches in the ground, before standing up. The two robots faced off, their own headlights the only source of light in the wilderness. It gave a shadowed atmosphere to a grave situation.
"Prowl," Jazz tried. "Listen to me, man. Those guys did something to you. They messed with your head. You don't want to do this."
Prowl did not respond and only crouched in an attack position. Jazz readied himself. This was a fight he had hoped would never come. He had known Prowl for a very long time and had a better idea than most what Prowl was truly capable of. Jazz had no idea if he would win this fight, but he would give it his best shot.
The faceless Autobot was still for several seconds. When it became apparent that Jazz wasn't going to make the first move, Prowl lunged to attack. Anticipating the strike, Jazz hopped backward out of his reach. Physically, he and Prowl were evenly matched. They were nearly the same weight and height. Jazz knew a lot of Prowl's moves. But while he certainly could take care of himself in a fight, he knew if Prowl got ahold of him, the fight had the potential to be over very quickly.
"Prowl, you gotta fight this," Jazz tried again. 'This isn't what you do, man. Look at me, I'm not armed. You don't have to fight me."
Prowl paused and inspected his opponent. He was indeed unarmed. But logic told him that an unarmed Autobot could still be a threat. Especially this one. Armed or not, it would be prudent to put this Autobot out of commission before he had a chance to try something.
For a moment, Jazz thought he had Prowl's agreement. But apparently not. Prowl tensed in the darkness and lunged. With his high beams directly in Jazz's optic band, it made it hard for him to see in either normal or night vision. As he was sure was Prowl's plan.
Jazz dodged again, trying to stay out of Prowl's reach. Not many Autobots had really seen Prowl in action. For one, because his rank dictated he orchestrate attacks rather than carry them out. And two, because Prowl's fights didn't last very long.
Everything Prowl did in battle was quick, clean, and precise. No move wasted, no weakness not taken advantage of. Every action planned for a quick victory requiring the least amount of risk and used energy. It was this approach that made him a brilliant tactician and a lethal opponent.
When Jazz refused to be a part of his plan of attack, Prowl decided to force his hand. He pulled out his blaster and attempted to fire. Jazz had no choice but to either lunge for the gun or get shot. That was just what Prowl was counting on.
But Prowl expected Jazz to go for the gun. Jazz knew he would expect that and charged the Datsun, catching him in the midsection and knocking them both to the ground. If he could get Prowl by surprise and throw off his strategy enough, he just might have a chance.
Jazz was instantly on top, trying to pin Prowl face down with an arm behind him and Jazz's knee pressing into his back. His mistake had been to think that if he kept himself between the cop car's door panels Prowl couldn't get to him. He as so intent on holding him down, Jazz didn't notice Prowl rotate his entire waist around 180 degrees until Prowl's legs grabbed him and yanked him backwards. to the ground.
One moment with the upper hand was all Prowl needed. He grabbed the car nose of Jazz's chest and swiftly jabbed his hand up through the undercarriage, wrapping his fist around several thick wires and savagely ripping them out. Jazz's motor relay was a lot harder to get to than most other designs. But this would definitely slow him down.
Jazz spasmed as wires and connections ripped and sparked. But Prowl wasn't finished. He had to make sure this fight was over. If an opponent couldn't see, they couldn't fight. Prowl climbed onto the twitching Porsche, balled his fist and slammed it into Jazz's optic band as hard as he could. The glass-like material cracked under the force. Prowl hit it again and again, shattering light blue shards all over the ground, injuring the face right along with the optics and showing no sign of slowing down.
"Prowl!" a female voice cut through the violence. "Stop! It's over!"
His fist stayed in the air as Crystal, bleeding and bruised, threw herself on Jazz's shoulder. Her eyes were wide and wet with terror as she turned to look at the disfigured face beyond the blinding head lights.
"He's not moving, Prowl. It's finished. You can stop now."
Prowl removed his knee from where he had shoved it in Jazz's mid section and stood up to grab his blaster. He pointed it at the shaking human kneeling next to his felled adversary.
Crystal was trying hard to keep her voice and her tears under control. She was scared out of her mind. Not just for herself, but for her friends who had something very horrible happening to them. She prayed for the wisdom to know how to help them.
"Prowl, it's okay," Crystal sniffed as her nose began to run. It was hard to see, it was hard to breathe. She was shaking so bad. It felt like her throat would close on her, but she forced the words out anyway.
"No one is going to hurt you. You got them all, you're safe now."
Prowl just watched her as if not expecting the response he received. His processor whirled with possibilities. Crystal kept her eyes rooted on the barrel of the weapon.
"Prowl," she said softly. "I'm your friend. Please put the gun down."
His response was instant, aggressively moving forward and fingering the trigger.
Crystal flinched and made a sound of fear. When she wasn't blown to bits, she opened her eyes to see Prowl still standing there in indecision.
The Autobot was frozen for a second as the usual barrage of voices filled his head. This little human that was addressing him was no threat at all, yet her words filled him with a type of fear he could not explain. She was draped over Jazz's shoulder as if trying to protect him, so how could she be Prowl's friend while asking him to stop attacking his enemies?
The voices suggested and argued through his thoughts. Even if the human was not on his side, what harm would it do to let her go? Or would he later regret underestimating her? Shouldn't all who are not helping him be destroyed? It only seemed the logical and practical way and most of the voices agreed with that.
Still, another voice was screaming some distance away in the very back where it could hardly be heard. The words it was saying were attached to fierce emotions that followed no logic at all. Prowl did his best to ignore it. It felt as if something inside him would break if he heeded that voice.
The decision was made. In war, you left nothing to chance. All loose ends needed to be tied up. His finger twitched around the trigger and Crystal closed her eyes, waiting for the end.
Still that one voice that didn't agree screamed at him. More than that, in the deepest corners, it was prying apart that wall he counted on to keep emotion out of his decisions and choose logic over personal feelings. That wall that he had installed so long ago was reaching its limit. It was breaking and everything it had kept in the darkness for so many countless years was threatening to come out.
Crystal refused to run. She stayed where she was and accepted her fate. Her eyes popped open when she heard a shot fired and nothing happened to her. She looked up and saw Prowl's gun was no longer in his hand. Even without the face, his body language indicated he was just as surprised as she was.
Another shot fired.
And another.
Prowl jerked as he was hit square on the crest of his forehead and then in the neck that was exposed when his head was turned. The lights of his optics and headlights flickered and then went out as Prowl fell to the side in a motionless heap.
All that was left in the middle of the wilderness was silence and darkness. From the distant tree line, Bluestreak sat behind a thick trunk, hunched in guilt and clutching his smoking gun. It was the last thing he ever wanted to do, but he had no choice.
"I'm sorry," he whispered to the darkness.
Down below, Crystal was left in unnerving silence and pitch black. She didn't know what happened and she couldn't see anything. She had no idea if she was with the living or the dead and had no idea what to do. All she could do was sit near Jazz's shoulder and wait.
There was a low hum of something mechanical powering up. Jazz let out a groan as his body rebooted his remaining systems and came to life.
"Jazz!" Crystal exclaimed, clutching his shoulder.
Jazz instantly paused at the sound of her voice.
"Crys? You okay? What's going on?"
"It's over, Jazz. Prowl's down. I think someone shot him. I don't know if he's okay."
Jazz didn't dare move. He could feel the human leaning on his shoulder.
"Who did it? Uh, I can't see."
"I can't see either," Crystal admitted. "It's complete darkness out here."
Jazz instantly flipped on his headlights. One flickered and went off but the other stayed on.
"Crys, move back a few steps. I'm going to sit up." His voice sounded damaged. It drifted in and out and was full of static like a radio on the fritz.
Crystal stepped back, giving ample room for Jazz to move without accidentally knocking into her. As he sat up, he grabbed at his damaged face. Tiny shards from his optic band glittered past the light and made a small tinkling noise as they landed on his hood.
"Are you okay?" Crystal asked in a small voice.
"I'll be fine," Jazz said with a seriousness in his tone she had never heard before. "Where's Prowl?"
"He's to your left. He hasn't moved."
Jazz swung a bit in that direction even though he couldn't see.
"I'll go over there and check--"
"No," Jazz cut her off. "You will stay right here next to me. We're going to wait for the others. You just tell me if Prowl starts to move."
Crystal nodded and stood silently where she was.
"Crys?"
"Yeah?"
"Where'd ya go?"
"I'm still right here," she insisted, sounding a bit annoyed.
"Well Primus, woman, I can't see!" Jazz shot back. "Put your hand on my leg or something so I know where you are! I don't want to end up rolling over you or something."
Crystal sighed and put her palm flat on his thigh near the hip joint. She was about to say something when a high-pitched scream came from the tree line and both of them froze.
Bluestreak had not moved the entire time. He didn't want to. It had felt wrong to fire. Even if it was to save an innocent life and save Prowl from a lifetime of regret. He still hated doing it. Even when he heard one of his fellow Autobots drive up and walk towards him, Bluestreak didn't move
"Hey Bluestreak, you okay?"
He heard Mirage's voice, but didn't look up until a hand was on his shoulder. Then Bluestreak lifted his head to see a faceless abomination in front of him and he let out a bloodcurdling scream.
"Slag it, Bluestreak! My audios!" Brawn barked from behind Mirage.
"It's okay, Blue," Mirage chuckled, offering him a hand. "The doc fixed my programming, but I still have to wait to get back to base before he can get me a new face."
Bluestreak took the proffered hand and allowed himself to be pulled to his feet.
"So what happened?" Brawn asked.
Bluestreak looked down at the ground. "I had to shoot him. I...I think I just knocked him out, but I'm not sure. I didn't try to hurt him. I just... wanted Prowl to stop."
The shorter Autobot put a hand on the gunner's shoulder. "You did your best. I'm sure he'll be okay. The others are headed there right now. Come on."
The wilderness was silent again. Jazz stayed on high alert, hearing keen and listening for anything. Several headlights shined in the distance followed by the rumbling of engines and tires. Crystal moved behind Jazz, unsure what to make of the convoy. But Jazz didn't move as the vehicles pulled up, a red semi in the lead.
"Jazz, what's the status?"
Crystal brightened. It was hard to mistake that voice for anyone else. "Optimus Prime!" She ran over and pressed herself against the flat nose of the semi.
"I'm not really sure what's going on," Jazz responded. "I have zero visibility and Prowl's down... somewhere over there."
For the first time, Jazz attempted to find his friend. He groped blindly to his left and his hand found Prowl's foot.
In the distance, Ratchet's angry voice sounded somewhere in the night.
"Primus! Look at Sunstreaker! I'm going to be repairing him all damn week!"
"It looks like you and I will be bunk mates for a while," Sideswipe's voice sing-songed.
"Oh no! No no no! You are NOT setting up camp in my med bay again!"
"But I get lonely..."
"Get a pet!"
"Will you make me one?"
"NO!"
Wheeljack, newly reprogrammed back to normal but still faceless, walked over to inspect Prowl's body.
"Definitely Bluestreak's work," said the inventor. "He would be the only one with enough skill to hit these direct spots and enough knowledge of Prowl's design to hit the right places since he's got the same design himself."
Wheeljack quickly flipped open Prowl's chest panel. He plugged in the same device Ratch had used earlier and began typing away.
"First we'll get him back to normal and then try to repair his injuries and put him back online. It's funny how such a simple human hack job became such a problem for us. It really surprises me how resourceful they are sometimes."
"So will he be okay then?" Crystal asked, wandering over but trying to remain a safe distance away.
"Eventually," Wheeljack confirmed. "Depending on the damage, I may be able to fix him enough to get him home under his own power. Just give me some time."
"Got another one for you, Prime," Ratchet said as he and Sideswipe carried what remained of Sunstreaker's car mode. "I need all available hands and optics looking for any pieces of him you can find."
"On it," Windcharger volunteered. "If it's made of metal, I can get it, no problem."
Optimus Prime opened the door to his trailer and Ratchet and Sideswipe loaded Sunstreaker inside. Ironhide was already there. He was still missing his motor relay. Sideswipe's was in good enough shape that it could be put back in, but Ironhide's had been crushed by Mirage. He would have to wait.
Ratchet then went to inspect Jazz, looking at the exposed wiring in his chest and then at what remained of the optic band.
"He got you good, huh?"
"It was a dirty trick," Jazz responded. "If he hadn't been brainwashed, Prowl would never have stooped so low."
"I'm sure he would agree," Ratchet said. He looped one of Jazz's arms over his shoulders and pulled him to his feet. "Come on, we'll get both of you back to the base and running right."
Meanwhile, Wheeljack had finished putting Prowl's programming back in order. Now he had a small pen like welder in this hand in attempts to fix the damage done by Bluestreak's impeccable aim.
Crystal wandered in closer, watching Wheeljack do his work. Every once in a while she glanced over at the different Autobots she was not familiar with. But mostly she watched Prowl, standing as close to him as she dared.
At the moment, his head was turned towards her and Crystal got a very clear view of what remained of his face. The mesh of wiring told of no facial features whatsoever. The optics were wide and dark. Blank, staring, soulless. Looking at him it seemed so unlikely that anything sentient, intelligent or caring was within that metal shell.
"Okay, here we go," Wheeljack announced. "I'm going to reboot his systems."
Prowl felt the power surge through his processors again. It wasn't like he had been sleeping, it was more like he had been frozen for a time and was suddenly in existence again.
His systems powered up one by one. Prowl felt the familiar order as one section would come online, then another. But then power hit a certain program. Prowl waited for its information to upload, but something was missing. A block that had always been there was gone. Information that had been currently locked away-- things that he had not thought about in millions of years-- were loose. And even more voices-- voices from deep in his past-- were now free to talk to him again.
Prowl rebooted with a start. He jumped back, hitting into a large boulder, clearly on the defense. He reached for his gun and glanced around wildly when it wasn't there.
"Not the response I expected," Wheeljack admitted. He was crouched on his knees, pushing Crystal back with one hand in case Prowl did something drastic.
"Where am I?" Prowl demanded. "What's going on?"
"Prowl," Ratchet ordered. "Run a diagnostics test and give me your results."
It took a moment longer for Prowl to sort out the memories of the past and the present and figure out where he fit in all of it. Then he finally recalled the humans who had captured him. They had messed with his programming. They didn't force him to do anything against his will; they made him believe that he was fighting against his friends. That he WANTED them as his enemies. And he had treated them as such.
"What-- what did I do?" he asked in a hollow voice.
Ratchet stepped forward. "Nothing that can't be fixed, now give me your hand."
Prowl still seemed a bit disoriented as Ratchet pulled him to his feet. The medical officer couldn't help but notice Prowl's distress levels were continuing to rise without any probable reason Ratchet could see.
"Prowl," Ratchet said, which seemed to shake him momentarily from his thoughts. "Are you... alright?"
Prowl shook his head, but it wasn't to answer Ratchet's question. Those inner voices were talking to him all at once. There were more now and they all tried to get his attention, unhindered by programs that had been in place before. It was impossible to make sense of any of it.
Ratchet frowned at him.
"You're going in the trailer, Prowl. I don't know if we should let you drive home."
Ratchet grabbed his arm in a fashion that brooked no argument. Prowl did not protest as he was led into Optimus Prime's trailer and sat down opposite of Jazz. Ironhide's body and Sunstreaker's smashed car form were in the back.
Prowl looked at Sunstreaker in regret as the trailer doors were closed and the Autobots left the area.
"Well, here we are!" Bumblebee announced happily as he pulled up in front of Clarissa's house.
It had been a busy night for the teenagers who had expected to spend a typical Halloween telling ghost stories and sneaking into creepy places they weren't allowed to go. Originally, Wheeljack had been their chaperone in the beginning, shadowed by Cliffjumper. But that had been before Decepticon airplanes had attacked them right in the middle of a grave yard.
Both Autobots had taken off after the Decepticons, leaving the teens alone. After giving a proper head start, they had attempted to follow in Trevor's car, just to see what had happened. By the time they had made it into the area, Cliffjumper had been left in shambles and Wheeljack was taken. They waited until a rescue team of Autobots had shown up as well as several policeman before deciding what to do next. The night was still fairly young and none of the teens felt the need to go home just yet.
At that point, Trevor's old junk car decided it had had enough excitement for one night and refused to start. Bumblebee, who had been part of the rescue team, happily volunteered to tow the car home and drive them around for the rest of the night. Daniel was less enthused about the idea than his friends, but he conceded and went along with it.
It turned out to be a pretty fun night. They went to the old hospital as planned and Bumblebee was small enough to squeeze in with them. They all had a ball trying to rouse spirits and telling each other ghost stories. Bumblebee had some very good ones to tell which he said Spike had told him when they would go camping. Chills and thrills were had by all and Daniel had to admit that he had very little to complain about by the time the early morning hours peeked in and it was time to go home.
"I had SO much fun!" Clarissa announced from the back as she reached from behind and hugged Daniel, who was sitting in the front seat. "We have to do this again next year! Thanks for the ride Bumblebee!" She happily fled the yellow bug and ran up the walkway before anyone could offer to walk her up. She waved one more time from the front door before going inside.
Bumblebee chuckled at Daniel's bewildered grin which was immediately replaced with frown.
"Not a word!" he threatened.
"Fine, fine," Bumblebee relented. "Now, oh, it looks like we still have someone else to take home back there."
"What do you mean? There's no one back there," Daniel insisted.
He glanced into the back seat and saw a glimpse of a girl his age with sunken eyes wearing a white dress. She disappeared instantly and Daniel whipped his head around to stare at Bumblebee's dashboard. Even the Autobot shuddered a bit before both let out a terrified scream that echoed through what remained of the night.
"Megatron," Soundwave radioed to his leader as he brooded in his quarters. "Incoming request to raise tower for landing. Decepticons requesting: Skywarp, Astrotrain, Ramjet."
This had Megatron's full attention.
"Let them in, Soundwave. I will meet you up there. Megatron out."
When he reached the top level where the landing docks were, three very animated jets tried to explain to him all at once what happened to them. Megatron didn't like that at all and demanded order.
"Some stinking humans captured us and messed with our programing," Astrotrain spat with disgust. "Made us do anything they told us! It wasn't our fault!"
"Yeah!" Ramjet jumped in. "They did it to Autobots, too! But don't worry, Megatron, their whole operation was slagged good!"
"Really.." Megatron mused. "How did that happen? How did you get away? No doubt Autobots with their noble intentions."
The seekers looked at each other.
"I think it was Starscream," Skywarp admitted. "He said he blew up their base."
"Yeah, yeah," Ramjet chimed in, still excited. "I came online and he was fixing me."
"And where is he now?" Megatron asked.
Ramjet shrugged. "He said he had to take care of something and then he would be back. Then he flew off."
Megatron looked intrigued. "Interesting."
The drive back to town was a long one. In Optimus Prime's trailer, it was quiet for quite a while before Jazz spoke up.
"So, what was it like?"
Prowl looked up at the sound of his voice and gazed with regret at the black gap where Jazz's optic band used to be.
"Did you know what they were making you do and you just couldn't stop them or what?"
"No," Prowl shook his head. "It wasn't like that. They could make you believe you were of your own mind. You felt as if every suggestion they gave you was your own idea and you wanted to do it."
"And what was that like?" Jazz asked with a small grin of morbid curiosity.
Prowl took a moment to think. "It was like... being a Decepticon, I would imagine. Everything was about the prime directive. If something helped you, you kept it. If it didn't, you got rid of it. You stayed the logical route. There was no gray area, no compassion, no mercy for anyone that was not on your side."
Prowl paused and glanced over at Sunstreaker again. "It was very easy for me to think that way, Jazz. So easy, it was frightening."
"Nah," Jazz insisted. "I know you. You love logic, but you love life more."
"Still, I am sorry, Jazz."
"Don't worry about it. I mean it. It wasn't your fault, man."
The semi they were in began to put on his brakes.
"We're making a quick stop," Optimus radioed to them. "I want Crystal to see a doctor. I'm leaving Windcharger here at the hospital to take her home when she is finished."
Prowl jumped to his feet before the vehicle had come to a complete stop. Crystal. He had forgotten all about her. He was the one that had brought her to that horrible place. He had left her. Then he had caused Sunstreaker's wreck and she had been inside. He flipped up the door to the trailer and stumbled outside.
"Hey, where are you going?" Jazz demanded as he groped around blindly. "What's going on?"
Crystal was climbing out of Optimus Prime's cab. She paused when she heard her name.
"Crystal, are you alright?" Prowl asked as he knelt to get close to her level.
She smiled at him, looking banged up, but in no great physical pain. She had a bit of dried blood on her cheek, but nowhere near as much blood as the last time. Prowl regretted that there had even been a last time.
"I'll be alright," Crystal shrugged. "Nothing big. I'll no doubt be sore for a while, but time can heal all things."
Even without a face, Prowl radiated an intense emotion at those words that had Crystal worried.
"I'll be waiting to take you home," he insisted.
"Oh no you're not," Ratchet's ambulance mode shot back. "You're not driving anywhere until I can give you a proper check up first."
"I'm functioning just fine. I can drive myself," Prowl argued. "I would not be putting any passengers at risk."
Both of them looked to Optimus Prime for the decision.
"It will be Crystal's choice," he mandated.
She walked up to the faceless Autobot, wondering what expression he would be making if he could make it.
"Do you feel okay to do this, Prowl?"
"You were my responsibility. I need to finish it."
Crystal shifted as she looked up at him. "That's not what I asked."
"I am physically and functionally sound."
She gave a small, sad smile. "Not exactly what I was looking for, but I'll accept it."
"Prowl," Optimus ordered. "You will return to base directly after you take her home for a check up of your own."
Prowl transformed into car mode. The scratches on his front bumper were the only evidence of the night's battles.
"Yes sir, understood."
"Good. That will be all then. Autobots, let's roll for home."
Tired, a little burnt, and deeply disheartened, Dr. Kraus had fled his underground hanger via a secret back door he had built for himself in case of such an emergency. He did not have to go back to know that Starscream did not leave anything worth salvaging. The entire bunker was a complete loss and he did not plan to ever return.
Falling back to his secondary, more secretive base, Dr. Kraus trudged inside. It was also a large warehouse-like building with tall ceilings to accommodate his large robot obsession, but no one knew of this place but him. He was looking forward to some peace and quiet. And a stiff drink.
He flipped on a small light or two which barely lit more than the area around his work table and booted up his computer. As it hummed to life, he poured himself a small glass of scotch and plopped heavily into his padded chair with a sigh.
So much work wasted. So much time and money and equipment gone. And hardly a soul knew he had invested so much. It was such a tragedy. After all, he was doing it for all of them.
It was for people, for humankind he had gone to such lengths. Those giant mechanical beings had been running rampant, ruining cities, homes, and killing innocent people for years. Yet there had never been any call for either exile from Earth or their annihilation.
Most people saw them as living, thinking, feeling beings. Something that had a right to life just like everyone else. Dr. Kraus, obviously, did not. He was a scientist, and as such, saw them for what they really were-- the result of another scientist's tinkering. Perhaps something that got out of hand and was now running loose throughout the universe.
But that was what they were: a product, a mistake. Someone's mess left for others to clean up. They were nothing but malfunctioning equipment and any reasonable person knew if the device didn't do what it was supposed to do, then you shut it down. That was exactly what Dr. Kraus had tried to do until everything had gone wrong.
Now it was back to square one and deciding what to do next. His computer finished loading and the scientist began clicking through all the research and data he had backed up at his home base. At least he still had that much to show for it.
He meandered aimlessly through his notes as he slowly nursed his drink. So much information. What should he do with it now? His mouse wandered to his newest findings: all his recent research on the Autobots and their inner programming and thought-processing. He had to know what happened with that one that wouldn't listen to them. Not to mention he still had the mystery of why Starscream couldn't be reprogrammed to tackle. He still had so much to learn. It had been arrogant of him to assume he could control such complicated machinery with the limited data he had. He should have had more patience.
Something to keep in mind for next time. There would definitely be a next time, just as soon as he solved these puzzles.
As he looked over his information, Dr. Kraus furrowed his brow as something clicked into place. He looked over Starscream's data and then the Autobot's data again just to make sure.
"No..." he breathed. "It's impossible, isn't it? ... Could it be?"
"Looks like someone discovered my secret," said a high metallic voice from the darkness.
Dr. Kraus jumped to his feet, spilling his chair and his drink.
"It's not true!" Dr. Kraus demanded as Starscream stepped into the dim light. The darkness and the size of the room had hidden him well. "It didn't work because I tried to reprogram you as the wrong type of robot?!" His voice was high pitched and full of horror and disbelief.
Starscream snarled and stepped aggressively forward. "Let's not advertise it around!"
Dr. Kraus jumped back, stumbling and falling on the floor.
"What are you going to do to me?"
Starscream reached down and snatched him up, bringing the human up to his eye level.
"You have very much disrespected us, Doctor. Decepticon law is clear."
"But-but you're not a Decepticon!" Dr. Kraus called frantically. "You're Autobot! You can't hurt me! It's in your programming!"
Starscream frowned. "Autobot design in origin, maybe." He squeezed his victim tighter. "But how I was made does not dictate my existence. It's how I choose to act that defines what I am. For you see, Doctor, I am indeed, truly alive."
The human's screams of terror and pain filled the building and then were forever silenced.
When Crystal stepped out of urgent care, her favorite police car was waiting for her. She climbed into the passenger seat and clicked on her seatbelt.
"How are you feeling?" Prowl asked as he started to drive her home.
"I'll be fine," Crystal said, looking at her bandaged hands. "Like I said, I will probably be feeling all the muscle soreness tomorrow, but it will heal itself. I feel far worse for that poor yellow Autobot. Isn't he the same one who crashed with me in him last time?"
"Sunstreaker, yes."
Crystal shook her head. "Poor guy. I hope he'll be okay."
"He will. Ratchet is looking after him."
Crystal paused thoughtfully and then looked at the dashboard with affection. "And how are you? Are you doing okay?"
"My condition is passable."
"Are you sure? You seem a bit... distressed about something. It worries me."
"It has been a very difficult night," Prowl admitted. "It has left me much to think about. It has... reminded me of things that I have long forgotten."
"Not pleasant things, I'm assuming."
Prowl pulled up outside her apartment complex which wasn't very far away.
"No, they were not. Thinking about it again makes me confused on what to do about it. I will need time to consider."
Crystal nodded in understanding. She wouldn't push the conversation further. Personal reflection was needed first before he would be ready to talk with others.
"Well if you ever want to talk about it, or just need a reason to get out for some quiet time, you can always use me as an excuse."
"Thank you, Crystal. I appreciate that."
"Anytime. Thanks for the ride and for looking after me."
"Anytime," he mirrored.
Crystal got out and patted the hood of her car appreciatively as she went around the front. She crossed in front of his headlights, then there was a soft whistle of something moving very fast through the air.
Something thick, warm and wet splattered over the front corner of Prowl's hood. Like the first, a second bullet flew near soundlessly through his front windshield. Crystal's body slumped and fell lifelessly to the ground. There were no witnesses aside from the blood-splattered police car.