Chapter Eight: Freeloader
I had to get out of here. They were chipping away at my resolve. Wheeljack especially. I wasn't expecting him to get involved like that. It took me by surprise, and I couldn't afford to be surprised. At least I got a handle on myself there and left an opening. If I could just lead them on enough to think I'm turning 'Bot, I'd have a chance at getting out of here. If I played my cards right, I could even bring that chance about myself.
The next solar cycle, Bumblebee visited like normal. He had welding marks going from one pede up that side of his chestplate to his shoulder armor, but he seemed as friendly and cheerful as ever.
/Hey, Freeloader! Heard you did some sparring with Wheeljack yesterday. How'd that go?/
"Not bad." I tried to look excited. "He's still on base, right? Is he going to join us today?"
My hunch that all the 'Bots were in on trying to turn me was confirmed. Bumblebee's expression—what I could see of it with his mouthplate up—grew knowing.
/Yeah. He's working on something with Ratchet, but I'm sure he'll be happy to take a break./ The sound of an explosion echoed down the hall. Bumblebee shook his helm. /If he survives the next few kliks./
I followed him. As we entered the main area, a wrench suddenly flew past our heads and hit the wall with a loud clang. Wheeljack was walking slowly backwards away from the angry medic. He spotted us and ducked behind Bumblebee.
"I'm just gonna hang out back here for a moment, Bee!"
/And leave me in Ratchet the Hatchet's warpath?/ the scout beeped. /I don't think so!/ He shoved Wheeljack back toward his pursuer.
Ratchet stormed up to him and hit him over the helm with another wrench. "You slagging idiot! I fragging told you to wait to add the nyotrinaline until I'd thoroughly integrated the taxon-bindex into the solution!" He continued, volume increasing with every word.
I winced. Accidental or not, scrapping an important project was grounds for an execution on the Nemesis. Wheeljack was dead metal.
But Ratchet didn't do more than the first hit with the wrench. Once his rant had finished, he thumped Wheeljack on the shoulder plating, called him an idiot one last time, and walked off to clean up the mess in the med bay.
"You want any help, Doc?" Wheeljack called after him.
Ratchet made a rude servo gesture without looking back. "You've done enough."
The Wrecker turned to us with a sheepish expression. "Think I'd better get out of his way until he's cooled off."
Inspiration struck.
"How 'bout a drive?" I suggested. "We could bridge into the middle of nowhere and take a few laps!" The excitement wasn't hard to fake; this could be my opening if I handled it right.
They looked at me in surprise. I shrank back. "If you're okay with that, I mean."
Bumblebee glanced at Wheeljack. Wheeljack glanced at Bumblebee. I wondered idly if they'd been practicing that look: a sort of "do-we-trust-him-well-yeah-I-think-he's-
going-to-join-us-but-how-far-do-we-trust-him-and-do-you-think-we-can-take-him-if-things-go-south" look. It encompassed a lot. They nodded to one another.
Bumblebee reset my stasis cuffs yet again so they separated to either wrist.
/Now you'll be free to use your alt but not your weapons./
And free to use my comm link, once out of range of the dampeners in this base. I could feel the block lift on it. Hopefully my alt would be able to get away long enough to call for a ground bridge. They could probably drive faster than me, but if I could create a distraction, I might get the head start needed to lose them.
"Hey, Doc," Wheeljack called, "we're gonna go for a drive. Mind opening the bridge?"
Ratchet turned and glowered at the three of us. "You know what? Fine. It will keep you out of my way for a joor." He strode over to the bridge controls and set coordinates. We lined up in front of the bridge: Bumblebee first, then me, and then Wheeljack in back. I hoped their vigilance would lapse once we got outside. Otherwise, I might never get away.
The medic bridged us to a huge, flat space surrounded by rocky hills. I whooped in excitement. It had been almost half a lunar cycle since I last saw the sky.
Bumblebee transformed right away. /C'mon, I'll race you!/ he beeped.
"You'll win," I protested, laughing. Freedom, so close at hand, was exhilerating. What the heck, I needed time to figure out a distraction anyway. "Fine!"
Transforming to my alt took more effort and focus than I remembered. Then again, it had been a long time since I'd used it.
Wheeljack folded his arms and smirked. "What do the kids call that one again? A Beetle? Aww. That's so cute!"
I honked my horn at him. "Better looking than that Lancia you scanned! Alright, scout, let's race!"
I pulled up next to Bumblebee and revved my engine. It didn't sound all that impressive coming from a tiny, round vehicle, but still.
/Five, four—/
"Three, two—"
/One!/ We shot off across the landscape. Well, Bumblebee shot; I puttered. It wasn't much of a race. He circled back around and started lapping me. I wasn't bothered. At least I could look around now under the pretense of my slow engine.
One cluster of hills looked like a promising place to lose the 'Bots. There was enough greenery covering them to keep my armor from immediately selling me out. But I'd have to go on foot since my root mode was faster.
I neared the place Bumblebee had stopped at as the "finish line." As I crossed it, I transformed and hurled myself at Wheeljack, knocking him over.
"Whoa!" he exclaimed. "What's the big idea?"
"Just proving that I can still take you down," I laughed as he pried me off, but inside I wished I could access my weapons to make taking him down him a little more permanent.
For some reason, my spark twinged guiltily at the thought.
No. I couldn't go soft now. I had to get out of here. My gaze drifted to the grenade hooked to Wheeljack's hip. I had some random parts in my subspace. If there was some wire, maybe I could…
/Hey, pal, you okay?/ Bumblebee put a servo on my shoulder armor, and I realized that both mechs were looking at me with concern.
"Huh? Yeah," I mumbled. "Sorry. Spaced out for a klik. I was thinking about exploring these hills a little."
"Sure, why not?" Wheeljack took my arm and helped me up.
/Let's get our scout on!/ Bumblebee chirped, and he took off for the hills ahead of us.
That was easier than expected.
We started after him. I transformed, but kept myself a ways behind. Wheeljack followed suit. He caught up to me so we were driving side by side. Good. It would take him a moment to shift back when I made a break for it.
When we'd passed into the maze of hills, I pealed away from Wheeljack—
"Whatcha doing there, pal?"
—and swerved around the base of the nearest one—
"Freeloader? Hey! Get back here!"
—then transformed and started running. All my time spent on the surface was a big help to evasion and covering my tracks, but once Wheeljack called in Bumblebee… scout would beat saboteur. I'd have to do this quickly.
One hill had a big, rocky overhang sticking out, and the hills around it provided coverage from all angles. I hustled into the sheltered area and scrunched myself against the deepest wall of the cave it formed.
Static was the only response when I pinged Breakdown's comm frequency. I tried again. Nothing.
Was his signal blocked? It couldn't be trouble on my end. I wasn't getting any error reports. This place was too far in the middle of nowhere to host signal dampeners unless the 'Bots…
Those slaggers. When had they gotten transportable dampeners? I should have heard of this—
A familiar voice broke through my brooding.
"Hello? Who's there?"
I jumped, hitting my helm on the rock above me. "Knock Out? What are you doing on Breakdown's frequency?"
"Freeloader?" His tone shifted from annoyance to surprise, then to something like benevolent panic. "By the Allspark! Where are you? Never mind that, I'll pinpoint your location... What are you doing in Wales?"
"Knock Out." I spoke slowly, unnerved by the worry in his voice. "Why isn't Breakdown answering his comm? Did your frequencies switch again?"
Silence was his only response.
"Knock Out, what's going on?"
The swirling light of a ground bridge blossomed into existence at the opening of my hideaway. The medic stepped through. From the look on his face, I knew more was up than a change in comm links. I approached him cautiously.
"Knock Out?"
He bent over to check my plating and joints for damage, speaking in the brisk doctor voice he uses when he doesn't want to acknowledge something outside of work. "Well, at least you're none the worse for wear after all that time in their servos. You really should take better care of your pede tires, but that's nothing new. No signs of inflicted damage. Honestly, those Autobots are such soft glitches, I don't know how they've lasted this long…"
For once, there was no vitriol in his tone for our enemy. But what was going on with Breakdown? If something had happened to him, wouldn't it have been the Autobots to do it? It's not like he'd ever let humans get close enough again to snare him like MECH did. Not willingly, but… The thought made my fuel tanks clench painfully.
"What's…" I had to clear my intake and try again. "What's happened to Breakdown?"
He stopped talking and let go of the wheel he'd been examining. A klik passed as he opened his mouth and closed it again over and over, trying to find words, I guessed.
"Did MECH do something? Did they catch him again?"
"No." He spoke softly, slowly, as if the slightest exertion of his voicebox would tear it apart. "Freeloader… he's…"
"No."
"He's offline." Knock Out's servos clenched into fists. "Dreadwing brought him 'energon scouting' in Bolivia—really as backup to take out Airachnid per orders from Megatron. She turned the tables on them. Dreadwing says he was webbed down and... couldn't stop Breakdown from going after the eight-legged terror alone."
I felt like the ground had opened up beneath my pedes. He couldn't be gone. Breakdown was a constant. He was an anchor. Without him…
Airachnid was to blame. She would pay. I latched onto the idea.
"Where in Bolivia?" I asked quietly.
"South of a city called Tarija." He immediately seemed to regret answering. "Look, I see what you're thinking, and… I'm going to speak about it just once before dropping the subject entirely. She will rip you apart. Just like she did to Breakdown. Dreadwing saw the aftermath. Breakdown wouldn't want you anywhere near that glitch. He'd want you safe." His voice wavered. "You should have seen him when you were captured. He—" Knock Out stopped himself. Coolant was welling up in his optics; he furiously wiped it away. "I've said my piece." He bent down to my level. "Listen to me. It's probably better that you don't return to the Nemesis."
"What?"
"Things aren't so good with the Decepticons. Lord Megatron is growing less stable by the day. Dreadwing isn't going to keep him in check, no matter what he thinks. And now that we've got Insecticons on board, it's only a matter of time before most of the crew mutinies. You're safer on your own at this rate."
"What, as an Autobot prisoner?"
He hesitated. "Maybe. The 'Bots aren't going to terminate you, so it's better than most options. You should neutralize your Decepticon life signal as soon as possible."
"And you?"
He didn't answer, instead turning around and heading back toward the ground bridge.
"Knock Out!" I lunged forward and grabbed his arm. "Knock Out, Doc, please—" The gaze he turned on me now showed only irritation. I worked my intake. "You're not going to just… just leave me here, are you?"
No answer. He pulled away from me with enough force to make me stumble back, and he disappeared into the bridge without a backwards glance. I managed to steady myself and tried to follow him through, but the bridge closed before I reached it, and I fell through the place where it had been, landing heavily on my arms.
I punched the ground in frustration. What the actual frag, Knock Out?
