Disclaimer: Me no own and you no sue, dooda, dooda...
A/N: Ok, so I'm sort of epic failing at keeping up with all the review replies. I hope you can forgive me. Here's a chapter (on time for once - yay!) that I hope will make up for at least a little of my tardiness last week. You have no idea how much I look forward to your reviews, and if you find the time to read this fic I humbly BEG that you take the time to drop a word or two for me. I know you are all busy with the return to school and all, but so am I, and on top of that I have my sister-in-law to be and niece to be staying here and a wedding to help plan/organize/prepare for. Oh, and a job. So, PLEASE review if you read this. Thanks.
Chapter Nineteen: Of Angry 'Bots and Radioactivity
Although she was new to the whole mechanoid alien, intergalactic representative negotiation thingy, Jenna was no newb when it came to strategy, as she had proven to Tech Sergeant Epps only the night before. By her estimation she and Jazz would not be on the winning end of this encounter if it escalated into a fight in the open field. Jazz was huge in comparison to any human, but next to his own kind he was downright short, not that she would ever dare tell him to his face. Maybe that was why he got along so well with Astrid.
But the two mechs approaching them across the field were big. Like, really, REALLY big. If it all came down to a fight, she had no doubt that those two together could easily take on Jazz, and she had even less doubt that she would be as much help as a cadaver.
Good thing that if it did come to a fight Jazz wouldn't have to depend on her alone. But then, she doubted the Decepticons would come without back-up, either.
None of that was her problem, though. Well, it would be her problem if they lost, but she had been ordered to forget whatever might happen in the field. Her mission was her own, and Jazz's mission was his.
"Whatever happens, whatever you hear, you do not turn around," Lennox ordered her. Another soldier was standing beside her, working an earpiece into the crannies of her ear and attaching several other wires in case something should happen to their first line of communication. She wanted to rip the weird little things out of her ear and off her skin, but she kept her hands stiffly by her sides. No point making the soldier boys more worried about this exchange than absolutely necessary. "We will always be right with you. You can talk to us, and we can talk to you, but you cannot stop. Do you understand?"
The lump in her throat said 'no' but her lips said,"Yeah."
"Good. Now, when things get started, here's what you need to do..."
Jenna had her orders. She was a soldier, too, now.
.O.O.O.
Over the last several hours, Astrid's condition had been rapidly deteriorating. Her breaths wheezed and the blood was still oozing - albeit slowly now - from her thigh wound. Ratchet could have made a list a mile long with all the supplies he needed. Sanitizer, bandages, aspirin and water were not nearly enough to deal with the results of Decepticon torture. He needed the sort of equipment a hospital possessed in order to deal with such injuries.
One hour and twelve minutes ago Astrid had stopped responding to his calls. If she did not receive adequate medical attention in the next few hours, Ratchet's medical training informed him that she would in all likelihood cease to function. His spark, however, refused to acknowledge such a fact.
The horror of energon coating his hands after a particularly cruel battle and the inevitable grueling sessions that always followed in the medical bay had ceased to phase him millennia ago. Now, he was discovering the horror of human blood dripping from his digits - the Priums slagging stuff that wouldn't stop flowing out of his patient. With mechs, all he had to do was solder or replace a wire, a length of tubing or part of a tank. Sometimes he was too late to save them, but the energon would always stop, even if their spark still sputtered out from the lack of it. The blood, however, just kept flowing and flowing. Such a garish red that crusted to brown. If only it would crust in the wound and not on his fingers.
She was so pale now. She almost resembled one of the humans' ghosts, the spirits of the dead returned. If the rescue he had been promised via that look over the viewscreen didn't come soon, he feared that Astrid might actually become such a spirit.
"Optimus," he said, "what's keeping you so slagging long?"
.O.O.O.
There was silence in the field for several minutes, and Jenna knew that each side was busy communicating over their private comm channels with their superiors. She knew because she was listening in to the Autobot's side of the conversation over her own ear bud. It was really weird to know that everyone was talking and yet... hearing... nothing.
"We've got two 'Cons incoming," Jazz said over the channel. "Just as we arranged."
"Good," Optimus replied. "Keep a sharp eye on the surroundings. I have no doubt that there are more nearby."
"Me neither," said Jazz.
"Jenna," Lennox's voice ordered, "don't forget your mission. If you slip up on this we may not be able to get to you before the 'Cons do."
Since she didn't want to alert the two approaching monsters to the fact that they were chatting with the home base (although they probably already knew) she didn't respond. But Jazz was watching her closely, anyway, and replied for her.
"She knows. And I'll give her a push in the right direction when the times comes."
"Good."
Then the Decepticons decided to make the conversation audible.
"Did you bring the Allspark fragment?"
"I- ahem - I've got it," Jenna said, holding up the little box with her one good arm.
The mech who hadn't spoken frowned and appeared to be squinting at the box. Scanning, Jenna thought.
"The fleshy has the shard," he said. "The container is saturated with Allspark radiation."
Radiation?! Jenna thought. Somehow the others had failed to mention that to her when she signed up for this job. Oh, well, too late now. If she died in a hospital bed with an extra head that argued with her all day, at least it would be in the name of a good cause.
"Have your squishy come to us," Ugly 'Con Number 1 ordered.
"Got two problems with that," said Jazz. "Firstly, she ain't my squishy, so she wouldn't do what I told her to anyway. Secondly - how stupid do you think I am?"
"Judging by that mark on your chest? Very."
Jazz's guns whirred to life, and were quickly aimed at the offending mechs. In another heartbeat, the two Decepticons also had their weapons out and trained on their Autobot foe. Jenna was just grateful that none of the guns were aimed at her, though she guessed that had more to do with the precious Allspark piece and less to do with her squishy self.
"You wanna make somethin' out o' this?" Jazz snapped.
"Only if you're willing to start something for once, Autobot," Ugly 'Con Number 2 said. "But maybe that won't be too hard for you this time. I heard that the human we've been playing with used to be yours before that slagger Mirage claimed it."
The growl Jazz issued was no threat at all compared to the growing hum from his weapons. Before he could act, several other Decepticons appeared from the rim of the woods, all with weapons primed and aimed at the silver 'Bot. Jenna's hands trembled with adrenaline and fear. Not yet...
"What did you think about the job Barricade did on the little fleshy?" the second 'Con continued. "Did your servos shut down when he snapped that tiny little appendage of hers? Such slagging, fragile structures these organics have, why, with just one twist..."
SshhreeewCLAANG!
"What the slag?" 'Con Number One exclaimed.
The first shot had been fired, but it hadn't been by Jazz. The twin terrors were charging out of the opposite side of the woods, and Sunstreaker's canon was still glowing from the heat of the missile he'd launched. Other Autobots came racing out after them, among them Ironhide with both canons aglow. But Jenna was still the only human on the field.
She wasn't for long, though. Soon there were no humans on the field. If she usually ran as fast as she did that morning she'd have a spot on the Olympic track team, but she had really never sped so fast in her life, and she never did after. So much for her aspirations of grandeur.
With all the fighting going on behind her, none of the 'Cons seemed all that interested in keeping tabs on the itty bitty human running around. Maybe they were a little more interested in the radioactive box she was holding, but Jazz took out the two mechs near enough to pose a threat and after that the box was easily ditched. As heavy as it was, it didn't have a chance against an icy creek. One good-sized rock cleared a hole in the ice, and the cute little container went sailing in after it like a clingy younger sibling. Jenna went a little farther upstream and found a stabler place to cross. The snow had her slightly worried, but the sheet of ice covering the water proved thick enough to withstand both her weight and the insulating effects of the snow. Behind her was a neat little trail for any interested Decepticons to follow, but she'd been assured that her tracks wouldn't be a problem: by the time the 'Cons and 'Bots finished beating the living snot out of each other in the clearing, there would be no way to tell which way she'd gone until it was far too late to worry over a measly organic. Even if they did decided to break off the fight and start tailing her, they'd lose interest once they found the box. That was the only value they assigned to her existence, so there would be no point in continuing chasing her after that.
"Package mailed," Jenna said aloud. "I'm clear."
"Good," Lennox's voice crackled. "Get to the designated rendevous point and meet up with your transport."
"On my way."
It wasn't too hard to wade through the snow, but by the time Jenna reached her destination she was swearing that some giant had gone and added hills to central Ohio that were definitely not there a week ago. As happy as she might have been in other conditions to see something besides flat farmland - how many times had she and Astrid whined about the scenery? - the snow and ice made the treks uphill very tricky and the trips downhill even trickier. By the time she arrived she was soaked through and had a muddy patch smeared up one leg. Hopefully her ride wouldn't mind.
He didn't. When Mirage arrived he was all business. One door popped open for her and he commanded, "Get in quickly."
She had no problem complying, and shuddered in delight to find that the Autobot had already turned on the heat for her.
"Is the container hidden?"
"Sorta. It's in a little river," Jenna said, pulling off her sopping gloves. "Beneath the ice. Should prove to be a little challenging to track in there."
"A little," Mirage agreed. "Enough to keep them occupied for the necessary length of time."
"Right. Good. How long do you think this is going to take, then, exactly?"
"If all goes according to plan, under thirty minutes. If it does not, much longer."
"Ok then. Let's make sure everything goes according to plan."
On a road in the middle of central Ohio, a flashy sportscar suddenly blinked out of existence.
.O.O.O.
Ratchet bent over Astrid, swearing up a storm in his processor and murmuring comforting nothings to his failing patient.
"Sparkling? Don't you dare deactivate now. Do you understand? Don't. You. Dare."
The little organic remained limp in his hands, and his processor returned to cursing. Every bandage and roll of gauze he still had on hand had already been used to bind the wounds that still refused to stop bleeding. It would ease his processor considerably if he could just ease a little water down her throat from time to time, as he was sure that she was dehydrated after nearly two days without water, and he knew for a fact that the human body could not produce adequate blood without fresh fluid in its system. The little matter of food was also bothering him. Although humans could go much longer than this without sustenance, they needed proper nutrients and food energy to combat both injury and infection. All it would take was one little microorganism to slip in somewhere it shouldn't be and the stakes against Astrid's life could raise considerably. Goodness knew the little sanitizers he had were not enough to properly clean the many holes and gashes.
But at least the leg was set - not to his satisfaction, but it was set. This was perhaps the one blessing to Astrid's catatonic state. Had she been awake the pain of realigning and setting the bone would have been tremendous, and Ratchet had no desire to hear more of her screaming that day. Mercifully unconscious as she was, though, she hadn't so much as twitched during the entire operation. Now the leg was held straight and steady by an iron rod (which had been the Pit trying to convince the Decepticons he actually needed) tied to her leg with some of the precious bandages. But it wasn't a perfect arrangement, and he feared long-term repercussions for the limb if it were not treated with a cast soon.
All was quiet in the halls outside. Strange. Usually there was at least one guard shifting and clanging about near the door. Perhaps Prime's trade was being carried out. Ratchet hoped so. Astrid's condition was rapidly deteriorating, and if she was not taken to a hospital in the next several hours she would cross the one line Ratchet couldn't drag her back from.
Hurry the slag up, Optimus.
.O.O.O.
The loading bay door opened without so much as a swoosh, and from the safety of Mirage's palm, Jenna peered inside. The place was big. Of course, that was to be expected when dealing with giant metal aliens, she supposed. Once upon a time the building had been a massive factory, but like so many of its kind, funding had been pulled in the face of declining profits and the building had been abandoned to the rats and cockroaches... and aliens.
In three silent strides Mirage had reached a human-sized door at the far end of the room, and he knelt to carefully place his cargo on the ground. Jenna peered up at the general area of his face (it was hard to look an invisible person in the eye) from her new vantage point and gave him a thumbs-up. "Let's do this."
"Be careful, and maintain radio silence. Soundwave could undoubtedly trace any signals sent from inside his own headquarters."
And then he was gone. She couldn't see that he was gone, because she couldn't see him when he was there, but still, there was an empty silence after that and the weird tingly sensation of being watched by invisible eyes vanished.
After the building had degenerated into its present state the owners seemed to have decided that it wasn't worth arming with a security system, so the keypad beside the door didn't so much as spark when Jenna slipped into the next hallway. This one was squishy-sized. That was the whole plan, really, using Jenna to get into places Mirage couldn't. While the 'Bot went in search of the control room, Jenna went tripping off to find Astrid and the captured Autobot.
Very few Decepticons were roaming the halls, at least that Jenna could hear and for that she was grateful. The thick concrete walls did much to shield her from the 'Cons' scanners - especially since they weren't looking for her in the first place - but the fact that there were only a few of them about made her more at ease. So far she'd only seen one, and that had been the one that they trailed back to this place - a messenger reporting on the status of the battle since all of the comms had mysteriously stopped working. Who might be responsible for that? As little as she knew about him, Jenna had officially decided that she loved Wheeljack.
She loved Mirage, too.
Really, she loved anyone willing to help her get Astrid back.
As she nosed around the halls like a rat, Jenna repeated the plan over and over again in her head. At the rate she forgot things, it was better to be safe than sorry. There were four stages to the Autobots' scheme. First was to initiate the 'trade' with Jazz and start a battle with the waiting Decepticon forces. Second was to jam Decepticon communications and follow a messenger or scout back to their headquarters. Thirdly, since the jamming unfortunately went both ways (and there was always the fear of being overheard by Soundwave), was for Mirage to find the control room and broadcast their location to Prime while Jenna found the prisoners and tried to spring them from their cell or cells. Fourth, Prime arrived with the Autobot forces he'd kept in reserve along with the human allies and stormed the Decepticon headquarters to rescue the prisoners and extract the two spies.
That part gave Jenna the tinglies. She was a spy.
The first two phases were complete. Now it was time to shine - and find her buddy... and buddy-to-be.
.O.O.O.
Ratchet watched over his scanners in mounting frustration as Astrid's heart gave yet another unstable flutter. Slagging Decepticons and their Pit-spawned torture tactics from their glitched processors...
Tap.
Ratchet's optics snapped over to the door.
Taptap... tap.
"Um. Hello?"
That was most definitely not the voice of a Cybertronian, and certainly not that of a Decepticon.
"This is Autobot medic Ratchet," he said. "Identify yourself."
"This is - uh - human student Jenna," said the tapper. "I think that you - um - fixed my arm the other night. Is Astrid in there with you?"
"Affirmative." For a second there was silence, and Ratchet was just about ready to roll his optics and say 'yes' when the human responded.
"Ok, good, that's what I needed to know... could I ... talk with her?"
Ratchet growled. "Not unless you are telepathic."
"And why is that?" the voice said snappishly.
"Because she is unconscious." Idiot was strongly implied at the end but left unsaid.
"Well that's not good."
"No it is not." If the human continued at this rate, Ratchet didn't plan on leaving the 'idiot' bit left unsaid for much longer.
"Well, I think I'm gonna need some help. I know I came to help you guys and all, but that keypad thingymahoochie is not anywhere near my height."
"Then it is fortunate that I am here to assist you."
"Whoa! Holy crap, dude! You've got to work on this whole invisible, sneaking up on people thing. You just about gave me a heart attack!"
"My sensors read that your heart was in no danger of malfunctioning."
Frustrated by the door and wall quite literally blocking his understanding of the conversation (and worried about the human lying in his hand), Ratchet bellowed, "IF THAT'S MIRAGE THEN YOU'D BETTER OPEN THE SLAGGING DOOR BEFORE I RIP YOUR CLOAKING MECHANISM OUT WITH MY BARE HANDS AND WELD IT OVER YOUR VOCALIZER!" There was silence on the other side of the door. "NOW!"
A furious series of beeps and clicks came from what Ratchet could only assume was the keypad as Mirage tried to override the controls. A minute or two of this ticked by, and then the door crashed open to reveal the Autobot saboteur and a gangly little human female. "It's about slagging time."
He moved to leave out of the cell but found himself intercepted by Mirage, who stood before him with hands outstretched. "Take off these restraints, will you, Mirage? We're wasting time."
"Give Astrid to me first."
"Are you out of your processor? At a time like this that's all you can think about? I'm the medic here, and believe me when I say the less we jostle her the more likely she'll actually survive this little trip. So get these things off of me, pick up the human there and let's move out."
Mirage hesitated, and Ratchet pressed his case. He cared about the fading little squishy, too, and he wouldn't let some upper class mech's high faluting sense of guardianship rights get in the way of what was best for his patient. "As a guardian you should want what is best for your charge, not what is best for yourself."
It took Mirage a few seconds, but then he nodded - jerkily - and severed Ratchet's bonds.
Both mechs shifted to battle stances and Jenna squeaked as the first round of explosions echoed throughout the base.
"Phase four has been initiated," said Mirage.
A/N: Alright, I beg your forgiveness for the occasional expository lump, but it's late and - let's face it, folks - this is fanfic. This is where my brain takes a holiday and has fun. Hopefully your brains do the same, otherwise there is no way you'll enjoy this sucker.
Replies to those without accounts:
Chio: Thanks for the review! Ha, yeah, I have way too much fun with lines like that. It's a mean, nasty and frequently cheezy thing to do, but I can't resist... I didn't realize that! I guess that's what happens when one takes a SIX MONTH hiatus... that'll teach me to update. Hope you enjoyed this chapter!
Sammy J: Thanks for both the review and the reminder! My brain thanketh thee. I am SO glad you got sucked in. Thank you for the prayers, and you'll be in mine as you start school. I hope you can keep up :( there are only two or three chapters left, so... yeah. Hope to hear from you again! And that your teachers don't kill you!
GodisGod!andIamnot...: Thanks for the review! I'm glad you made it, too. Thanks, I do have fun with that stuff, too. I always think of Vegitales, too! ha! Thank you very much, and I hope to hear from you again!
some dood: Thank you very much for the comments! I find stuff like that useful, and I really appreciate it. This stuff is like journaling for me. It's just what my brain puts out, so I edit it somewhat, and read through for gross errors or major cheeze, but I leave it at that. Unlike my other writing which I usually rip to shreds multiple times and piece together again. I would agree that the beginning is sort of inadaquate, but - as I said - my brain was going "Skip to the good parts!" and since I am generally a very lazy writer on first drafts, that's what I did. I am very glad you are still enjoying it, though! I hope to hear from you again!
Sienna: Thanks for the review! I make no promises. If I did then you wouldn't keep reading. ;) Lookin' forward to your next review!