Chapter Four: Freeloader

Slag. How did he sneak up on me? The 'Bot held me by one of the wheels on my shoulder armor as he stepped forward toward his pals.

I concentrated, trying to at least activate my comm link's distress beacon or ping Breakdown, but the stasis cuffs had obstructed my signal. Nothing worked.

Those dumb drones had picked a great day to have a cave-in and force Breakdown to stay in the med bay assisting Knock Out with their injuries. I needed backup, and the Eradicon squad that had been following me at a distance wouldn't be able to take on two Wreckers and Optimus Prime.

Wheeljack seemed to have noticed my faraway look. He shook me roughly and looked at his Prime, who raised a servo to his comm link.

"Ratchet, send the ground bridge." The Prime's deep voice unsettled me, though I tried not to let it show. He sounded a little like Megatron, but he didn't have the gravelly, angry rasp that I was used to. I didn't like that it sounded so smooth. Autobots are tricky; they seem all righteous and pure and stuff, but they'll turn right around and yank out your spark chamber if you make a wrong step. I've seen too many Vehicons offlined that way to take them at face value.

The bridge opened in front of us. I vented shakily as first Bulkhead, then Prime disappeared through it. Wheeljack walked me forward after them. I didn't resist. There was nothing I could do with these Pit-spawned cuffs on.

The Autobot base was well-lit. That was the first thing I noticed, since my visor was in night-vision mode. Luckily the stasis cuffs didn't prevent me from flicking it into its slot in my helm armor. Now I could get a proper look around.

Almost every Autobot was present. Of course, they weren't many, but it was daunting nonetheless. I'd seen the aftermath of battles with them, and it was never pretty.

There was Prime's medic, Ratchet, standing by some primitive-looking Earth holoscreens. He was mostly harmless, I knew, but there had been that one time with the synthetic energon. The mech had taken out Breakdown and almost decked Megatron himself.

The two-wheeler, Arcee, whose partner Starscream never shut up about offlining back before he bailed on the Decepticons, glared at me from her position next to Prime near the opening of a hallway. If I wanted to get past her, I'd need to rely on something other than speed and agility. She outclassed me in both.

Bulkhead, Breakdown's rival, walked off down the hall and out of sight. I couldn't see where he went, but it was probably to complain to his pet human about how close I'd gotten to taking him out. The thought made me wish Breakdown was here. Well, okay, not here, but with me on the return mission. This wouldn't have happened at all if he had been on the strike team.

Wheeljack shoved me toward a medical berth across the room. I stumbled and inwardly cursed at myself for looking weak. I sat on the edge of the berth and glared around the room, daring the 'Bots to say something.

Ratchet shut down the bridge and walked over to us. He held a portable scanner and pulled out the cord.

"This will go much easier if you cooperate," he said to me.

I huffed at the idea. "Not likely, old mech. I'm not letting you plug that into me."

Wheeljack tightened his grip on my tire. "You don't get a say in this."

"Wheeljack," Prime reprimanded him, "we are not Decepticons. It goes against our values to force such things."

The Wrecker scowled and let go of me. I didn't move. It's not like I had anywhere to go—or any way, with the stasis cuffs on. I reconsidered that logic when Prime started toward me. If the cuffs hadn't been restricting my motor skills, I'd have run for it. To my confusion, he knelt down to get closer to my level. He overcompensated and had to look up slightly to meet my gaze.

"What is your designation, youngling?"

"Like I'm gonna tell you that," I scoffed.

"Don't make this any harder on yourself than you have to, 'Con," Arcee spoke up.

Ratchet waved a servo in dismissal. "We can ask our other prisoner to identify him later. In the meantime…" He switched the port-connection scanner for a simpler, cordless one. "It won't tell us as much, but we'll be able to see the abnormalities in his frame."

Wait a klik. What other prisoner? Is this where Starscream ended up?

The medic completed his scan and looked over the screen. "That's... odd." He must have found my extra fuel tank. I glanced away, a little embarrassed. I'd gotten over my defect kilovorns ago, when Shockwave found a way to make use of it during my saboteur modifications, but when mechs made a big deal out of it, I couldn't help feeling awkward. Fortunately for me, he seemed satisfied with his findings for the moment.

"Optimus, Wheeljack, I'd like to go over this with you. In fact…" He put a digit to his comm. "Bumblebee, I need both of you in the med bay. Yes, now."

Both? Who was with their scout?

Prime looked to Wheeljack. "Wheeljack, take him to the empty cell, please. Meet us back here."

Wheeljack nodded and took me by the arm. I made a noise of protest, but he pulled me along into the hall as Prime gave instructions to Arcee. Not for the first time, I wished my audial sensors were stronger. I couldn't hear what he was saying to the two-wheeler, so I just hoped it wasn't about me.

As we turned a corner, I glanced up from my pedes and vented sharply.

"Upwash?"

The Decepticon following Bumblebee stopped in her tracks. "Freeloader!" Her wings fluttered in surprise; the setting of her stasis cuffs must have been more lenient than mine.

"Soundwave said you haven't reported back in almost an orbital cycle! I spent three lunar cycles looking for you before we had to give up!"

Upwash looked at the Autobot scout leading her. He spoke in Universal Binary.

/You can catch up with your 'Con pal after Optimus sees you./

Her wings drooped for a moment, but they were back up almost instantly.

"I'll explain when I get back, 'Loader," she said, using the nickname Breakdown had given me. It was a little comforting, but not comforting enough. We continued on our separate ways.

Wheeljack keyed open the door to a cell and shoved me inside. To my surprise, he reached over and adjusted my stasis cuffs so that I could move more freely, but still couldn't transform anything.

"Berth's in the corner," he said gruffly. "Someone will bring you a cube in a few joors."

"I don't need your fuel," I sneered at him.

He narrowed his optics. "I suppose not, if the Jackhammer's energon went where I think it did."

I just smirked at him. Wheeljack shook his helm and left. The door slid shut behind him with a muffled whump.

My composure dropped. I leaned back against a wall, then slid down to the floor and rested my head in my servos.

How did everything go so wrong so quickly?

If only Breakdown had been able to join the strike team. It's all those stupid drones' fault for letting that cave-in happen. And Knock Out's for not being able to handle a full med bay on his own.

I knew I wasn't being fair, but I needed someone to blame. Breakdown's told me that keeping frustration inside doesn't help anybody, and we need things to target our frustration on in order to purge it.

Why the frag does it matter, anyway? Breakdown's not here. He's stuck in the med bay, patching up drones, and I'm trapped in the enemy base! They'll never find me.

I leaped to my pedes and charged at the wall, bouncing off it with a clang and a yell. I rushed the wall again and again.

"Slag—fragging—Pit-rusted spawn of Unicron—slag 'em all—"

"Freeloader!"

Suddenly Upwash was there, grabbing onto my shoulder plating and shaking me.

"Freeloader, calm down," she begged. "You're fine; nothing's going to happen to you, but you need to stop this."

I ex-vented heavily. She pushed me over to the tiny berth in the corner and made me sit.

"Look, being in Autobot custody for as long as I have, I've learned a few things. What you need to know is that cooperation will get you a lot further with them than open hostility."

I tilted my helm. "Not far enough to get released, I see."

She looked away. "If you can get their trust, then they'll let their guard down eventually. You'll find an opening. You're better at that than I am."

Someone rapped on the cell door. It slid open, revealing Ratchet.

"Time's up," he stated. Upwash nodded and followed him out. I slumped back on the berth, cycling air through my vents in an effort to calm my systems.

Less than a joor later, the door slid open again. I rolled over to face it and almost fell off the tiny berth.

At least the Prime didn't laugh. He just stood there, waiting. I stood up off the berth, wishing the cuffs didn't prevent me from crossing my arms.

"What do you want?" The question, intended to express defiance, betrayed my nervousness instead.

"Only your company for a few kliks, Freeloader," he answered. "Come, walk with me."

"I'm not going to talk, if that's what you want."

"That is your decision." He put a huge servo on my shoulder armor and nudged me along.

We set off down the hall. I expected him to turn and gut me at every step. Nothing happened. The corridor felt longer than it had on the way to the cell. I could see the entrance to another hall across the main chamber of the base. Where did it lead? Prime's torture chamber, maybe? I stared around the room every which way as we crossed it. Anything that could provide an opportunity for escape, anything at all…

My gaze landed on the holoscreen area. Ratchet stood there with Upwash. Upwash? She wasn't wearing stasis cuffs this time. They were talking quietly. Ratchet looked a little irritated, but Upwash was grinning. She reached up and touched his helm, saying something that made him roll his optics. Then one of his servos brushed her waist, and she leaned into his frame with an familiar expression.

Oh, frag, no! No fragging way!

"Hey!" I yelled across the space. They pulled away from each other, surprised.

Upwash's voice was all panicky. "Freeloader, I—"

I yanked myself away from Prime's servo. He didn't stop me.

"So this is what you've been doing all this time? Fraternizing with Autobots? What kind of Decepticon are you?"

"Freeloader—"

"Traitor!" I shouted. "When Lord Megatron hears of this, you'll be reduced to so much scrap metal!"

I started to charge toward her, but Prime grabbed hold of me again. I continued to rave as he forced me back the way we'd come, saying something about trying again when I was adjusted.

I was still ranting as he shut me back into my cell. How could Upwash betray us? How long had she been involved with the medic like this? What Decepticon secrets had she already revealed?

Frag her. Frag them all. If I ever got the chance, I'd scrap her myself. Even better: I'd scrap every last one of her precious Autoscum before her optics, then hand her over to Knock Out for some of his special treatment, then give what's left of her to Megatron for the ultimate traitor's penalty she deserved.

I want to go home.