Chapter 3 - Mikaela

Maggie had been coming to the base for little over two weeks, and she was beginning to wonder if she'd ever see Deuce for more than 2 minutes at a time. The mech was born to hide, she reasoned. How else could he have billion year old war veterans chasing after him, cursing when they realised he'd slipped out of sight again?

"I don't care how much Bumblebee complains. I'm taking over his training when he's old enough to specialise," Jazz had mentioned when she brought it up. "Kid could be a good scout, but anyone with optics can see he was born to go into infiltration."

"Isn't he a little young?" Maggie had asked, and Jazz sighed.

"Yeah, but he's a unique case being…ah…created on earth. His development is way accelerated – back on Cybertron he'd barely be forming words yet."

"Still," Maggie mused, "it seems pretty quick."

"Ratchet will be elated he has another supporter." Jazz replied dryly. "But we don't have much of a choice. He's armed and untrained, and there's few combinations less dangerous. Plus probably do wonders for his confidence."

That Maggie admitted, was probably true.

"So when will you start?" she asked, and took a step back when Jazz gave a smile she was beginning to recognise as 'evil.'

"Oh, given our little buddy's desire to start, we figured the day after he's willing to be in the same room have a civil conversation with you."

Maggie hit her head against the control panel and groaned. "Why am I even surprised anymore?"

Jazz cackled. "You make it waay to easy."

He swung back to the control panel and the smile faded.

"Wait a nanoclick..."

The mech punched in a sequence, and the monitors immediately changed from the rudimentary firewall the two had been deconstructing to airwaves and an image of the solar system. For almost a minute, he stood stock still, optics focused on the screen, oblivious to Maggie's calls. She was starting to think about calling in one of the others when a red blip suddenly glowed on the screen, and Jazz punched the air in delight.

"Oh, yeah! Our weary traveller made better time than we guessed. He'll be here in days."

"Can you reach him?" Maggie asked, while behind her the door opened to admit all the Autobots save Deuce, and Will and Epps into the room.

"The signal, Jazz?" Optimus queried. "Can he receive?"

Both Jazz and Ratchet were at the controls, desperately trying to pin down the signal.

"Negative Prime. The tech just isn't up to standard, and even if it was, our traveller wouldn't recognise the signal."

"The issues with earth material again?" Will asked, receiving a distracted nod from Ironhide in return.

"Most of the systems here aren't close to Cybertronian standards," Epps explained to Maggie. "So there was a fear that Autobots wouldn't recognise our transmissions as friendly and ignore them. Guess it wasn't just a fear."

Ratchet snarled, slapping the panels in disgust. "This isn't going to work. We'll have to wait until he gets closer."

"But if we wait too long and still can't contact him, there's no telling where he'll land," Optimus said. "We need to boost the signal while we can reach him. Hax has done that before, perhaps he can make contact this time."

Jazz flicked on his comm. "Worth a try."

-You've been quiet for a while. –

-Hmm? –

-Spill it- Deuce snapped. –You're planning something aren't you? –

-Sheesh, somebody is on edge today- Hax moaned. –Oh, incoming. –

Deuce's comm. blipped, and Jazz's voice came through.

'Hey little buddy,' he said in greeting. 'Need a favour. Getting another signal from our travelling 'bot, but we can't get a hold of him. Need to borrow that voice in your head for a couple of nanoclicks."

'Is the hu-'

-Maggie! – Hax snapped, and Deuce groaned.

'Is Maggie there?'

Jazz sighed. 'Oh come on little buddy! Me, Optimus Bumblebee, Ironhide AND Ratchet will be there too, plus Will and Epps, and you like them don't cha?'

'…Promise?'

'Cross my spark and hope to offline. Again.'

Deuce sighed, and began the climb down, trying to ignore Hax's whoops of joy.

Jazz was waiting outside the door when he finally made it to the control room. Deuce immediately perked up when he realised Jazz was alone, and ran the rest of the way, easily leaping to the Pontiac's shoulder.

"Everyone inside?"

"Yep," Jazz said. "Figured you might want some height confidence."

Deuce raised an optic ridge. "So you came out?"

Jazz glared at him. "Hey, Ironhide was all for having you walk in. Beggars can't be choosers."

In reply, Deuce merely hugged Jazz's head. "I know. Sorry."

The glare was already gone, and Jazz chuckled as they entered. "I know, little buddy, I know."

While the majority of Autobots gathered round the controls, giving Deuce advice and instructions, Bumblebee kept back the humans, knowing Deuce and Hax needed to concentrate. It also gave him a chance to thoroughly confuse Maggie.

"Wait, I thought the kid's name was Deuce?"

"It is."

"So…who is this 'Hax' they keep talking about."

Bumblebee sighed. "Hax is…a unique case. He started out as a program in Deuce's head, but now he's more like a spark-joined twin."

This didn't really help.

"Spark-jointed."

"Think conjoined twins," Will offered helpfully.

"Hax is alive in some sense," Bumblebee continued, "but he can't survive without Deuce's spark. He can, however, be transferred into other machines for limited amounts of time. If he can connect to our friends signal, he can make planet fall inconspicuously with the right data."

Around the controls, the Autobots backed off, with Optimus kneeling in front of the Youngling.

"Hax has the data?"

Deuce nodded.

"Then in your own time."

Slowly, Deuce placed a hand on the panels specifically trying to contact the beacon.

-You ready Hax? –

-Hah! – the voice laughed. –This'll be a piece of cake. –

There was a tightness in his spark, the automatic tenseness Hax left when he was draining what he needed, before the connection snapped, leaving Deuce alone.

Hax liked being with Deuce. When he wasn't being miserable, Deuce was good company, and nobody knew him better than Hax.

But when he was on his own, the tender threads of spark reminding him of home, he could understand the need others had for bodies of their own. This was a different existence in and of itself. Lost in the hum of electricity and machines, he was prime, a master. Nobody could touch him.

He flew across the airwaves, trapping the signal and crawling to its source, formatting his own signal as he went. By the time he reached their new friend, the signal was gratefully accepted as Cybertronian, even if the original source wasn't.

"Bah weep granah weep ninni bong!" Hax chimed. "Due to technical difficulties, I'll be your travel guide for this transmission."

Amusement flickered down the line. "It's been far too long since I heard a Youngling." The mech uttered a Cybertronian name before continuing. "What's your name little one?"

"Hax."

The amusement turned to confusion. "I'm sorry, your designation was corrupt, what did you say?"

If he'd had hands, Hax would have slapped himself. Of course a new arrival wouldn't know English. He wouldn't be able to pick up the Internet until he was less than a day in. Which left him with a problem.

"My designation is only in the native language," he explained. "I don't have a Cybertronian one."

Which was true. Deuce had one, a word indecipherable for humans, hence the referencing as 'Sparkling' and 'Youngling,' but the topic had never come up for Hax.

"What!" the Autobot squawked. "Of all the-"

"It's complicated," Hax cut in. "Anyway, I need to send you coordinates. To make sure you land low-key."

The mech happily obliged, and Hax transferred the files from the computer, and dragged them up the channel.

"I'm impressed, youngling," the mech replied. "I didn't think Optimus had the tech to allow conversation from this far away. Much less be used by a youngling."

"He doesn't," Hax replied. "It's all me. I'm 'unique'."

The mech laughed. "So it would seem nameless one. I look forward to meeting face-to-face."

That's gonna be difficult, Hax mused. "I need to go."

"Goodbye, youngling. Give Ironhide my regards."

"Does he know you?"

"We've met," the mech replied. "His advice has been priceless. Perhaps he will remember."

And with that, they both closed the connection.

When the connection cut off, Deuce had expected Deuce to rejoin him. Instead, the program hooked himself into the still incomplete base comm. System.

"Mission accomplished, Optimus."

The mech smiled. "Good job, Hax. Did you get a designation?"

What followed was, to the humans, a random set of frequencies and tones, quickly followed by English.

"He says he's met Ironhide. I couldn't hold the connection any longer."

"That's all right, Hax. Ironhide, do you know him?"

The Topkick's arms were crossed, face twisted in thought.

"I've heard the name before," he replied. "But slag if I remember where. Think it was to do with a weapons upgrade."

"His designation is familiar to me, too," Ratchet admitted. "I think we met pre-war. He may have been a scientist."

"Perhaps memories will be revived on meeting him," Optimus replied. "Let me know of any new developments."

"Always, do boss."

Deuce, ready to leave, paced his hand on the console again, only to find Hax reluctant to rejoin him.

"Actually, Deuce, I wanna hang here for a while" the program said. "I want to introduce myself to Maggie. I'll come back when I run out of energy."

"Perhaps you should stick around 'til he's done little buddy" Jazz piped up.

Deuce furiously shook his head, and leaped for the door, only to find it blocked by Ratchet's foot.

"Fine," the medic snapped. "If you can't be civil you can come help me in the med bay. You're not performing that vanishing act again."

Cowed, Deuce threw a glare in the console's direction before following the medic, with Optimus, Bumblebee and Ironhide close behind.

"First things first," Hax said. "Maggie, I'm Hax. We probably won't see much of each other, for obvious and not so obvious reasons, but nice to meet you all the same."

Maggie smiled and gave a halfhearted wave. "Likewise. Maybe when Deuce gets more used to me we'll meet more often."

"That'd be good."

Jazz brought up the firewall they'd been deconstructing earlier. "So, you wanna help us out with this."

"Sorry, but I have something I have to do."

And the audio system shut down.

Hours later, Deuce was spitting complaints while he handled a mop, dejectedly cleaning the floor.

"I'm hearing more complaining than I am mopping, Deuce."

"Can't I go now?" Deuce moaned slamming the mop down for good measure.

"No. I need to keep this room in perfect condition, and my cleaning supplies are limited. Luckily for me, you're small enough to use human equivalents. After this you can help me polish the rest of my tools."

The whine that came from the Youngling was one of pure torture, and Ratchet chuckled.

"Get used to it, kid. You need to start learning how to pull your weight around here. No more slipping off to hide."

Deuce didn't answer, but when Ratchet heard the clink of the mop hitting the floor, he turned to berate the Youngling, only to see him starting to sway.

"Deuce?"

"Something…doesn't feel…"

His voice trailed off, feet repositioning themselves for better balance. Something was wrong, his basic functions were glitching.

The Youngling's knees buckled, and the red bike crashed to the ground. Ratchet bolted to his side, already scanning his young charge. He'd fallen into involuntary stasis.

"Deuce!"

Mikaela threw her bag on the bed and turned her computer on. She winced and ran her hands threw her hair.

"Gods…"

It hadn't been an easy few months. It seemed every time she went out the door she was halfway to the Autobot base before she realised what she was doing.

And part of her wanted to. She really, really did.

She just couldn't do it.

Msn popped up. One new email, from an address she didn't recognise. It looked safe, but the second she opened it, the computer cut out.

"Dammit. Should have upgraded my virus software."

Then the computer booted up again, frighteningly fast. Before she could register the action, Msn opened up with a new contact.

'Hey, Mikaela.'

She frowned and typed in. 'Who is this?'

'You know who I am,' Hax typed. 'I know they told you about me.'

Mikaela paled, and tried to turn the computer off to no avail. The same for the plug.

'You won't get rid of me that easily,' Hax replied. 'I'm in the computer, and I'm not leaving until we talk.'

"I'm not ready to talk," Mikaela muttered, only for the window to counter.

'Yes, you are. You're just too scared to.'

Mikaela sat back down, arms wrapped around her chest. "You're really in the computer?"

'I was in the email. Once you opened it, I took over everything, including the web camera and microphone, so you don't have to type. So, why are you avoiding Deuce?'

"It's complicated…" she started, only to be interrupted again.

'That was rhetorical. I already know, and honestly, the answer is probably yes.'

Mikeala bit her lip. "And the question?"

'Is Deuce always going to remind you of Sam? Yes. He can't help it any more than I can,' Hax explained. 'We're not him, but so many fragments are still flying around our systems. Fighting them is impossible, so don't punish Deuce for it.'

"I'm not punishing him!" Mikaela snapped.

'Yes, you are,' Hax countered. 'He's scared, lost, and desperately needs comfort. And one of the few humans he's comfortable around hasn't even come to say 'hi.' He's miserable.'

For a while, Mikaela didn't answer, eyes clouded in thought. She eventually loosened her arms and propped them on the desk.

"It's hard for me, too," she finally replied. "He's not the only one suffering."

'I know,' Hax typed. 'But the difference is that you can do something about it. He's too scared to leave the base without an escort, and the Autobots want 'to give you your space.'

Despite everything, Mikaela smiled. "Déjà vu."

Suddenly, the screen started to fizz in a way similar to interference on a TV set.

'Aw crap, that's me out of juice. I have to slingshot now.'

Mikaela nodded. "Are you coming back?" she asked, not sure what answer she wanted.

'No,' Hax wrote. 'From now on, the balls in your court. C U. xxx'

Her eyes widened at the farewell, even as Hax's status changed to offline.

That was how Sam had always ended chats with her.

Sighing, she turned the computer off and flopped onto her bed.

"All right, Hax," she said. "I get the point."

To be continued . . .