Chapter 8

I know it's been awhile, but it takes time for me to come up with ideas for this story. Enjoy!

When a wrench soared through the air, First Aid ducked, narrowly avoiding the object. Ratchet was now beyond pissed. Not only had the Decepticons captured his mate and put three of some of their best soldiers into forced stasis. They had also added another mech to that list of soldiers, their dearest scout. Bumblebee of all mechs.

The medic was glad that regardless of the blow to his cause, they now had the location of the base and Optimus could be retrieved. He was worried about this new mech in the 'Cons' ranks, however. Based on Jolt's description, Switchblade is extremely dangerous, a highly qualified assassin as Ratchet had been informed. He was the reason that their plans would have to be changed when they were already perfect, minus the previous lack of knowledge of the location of the base.

And there were two humans that were almost as angry as Ratchet. Sam and Mikaela were livid, pacing outside of the medbay doors, waiting for Ratchet to give them the okay. Bumblebee was Sam's lover and Mikaela saw him as her brother. They had always been able to look up to him and since he was young, he understood them and they understood him. Many of the other soldiers thought that the only reason for Sam and Mikaela's anger was the fact that they no longer had a means of transportation. But they didn't know the relationship that Sam had with Bumblebee, nor did they know that Mikaela had fallen in love with Arcee. The Autobots were more than just a means to get around from place to place to the young adults.

The two humans felt the same way right now. If they were Cybertronians, they would find this Switchblade and show him what happens if they mess with their 'Bots again.

All of the Autobots shared the anger that Sam, Mikaela, and Ratchet felt. Their scout was precious to them all, being that next to the younger set of twins, he was the youngest. They had practically raised him ever since he was a mere sparkling. Ironhide was in the middle of target practice when he found out. His shots became more violent and animalistic growls could be heard from the training room. He continued his somewhat contained rampage there as to not harm anyone that didn't deserve to be harmed.

Prowl was also angered by the new piece of information, but the stoic look on his face remained. He now sat in his office, reworking his entire plan, now that Bumblebee was in a forced stasis. As he worked, he got a comm from Wheeljack, who was currently on monitor duty. What the inventor told him lifted his spirits and he was sure that once his plans were reworked with a new factor thrown in, it would make the rest of the base happy as well.

Mirage was entering Earth's atmosphere as Prowl spoke into his comm, telling everyone to meet inside the meeting room. His new plan was slightly better than the last one, now that they had the power of invisibility on their side. As everyone, both man and mech, piled into the meeting room, Prowl was sure to let Mirage know that he was to cloak his energy signature so that the Decepticons wouldn't be prepared for Mirage's unique ability. If things went well during their attack, Mirage would be the one to deal with Switchblade and make fighting easier.

There was a five percent chance that the plan would not work. Prowl was going to make sure that it would never happen.

Optimus sat in his cell quietly, thinking about recent events. Megatron had been acting very strange before, as if he actually cared about his well-being. It made the Prime sick to know that he was trying to fool him by saying and acting as if he was concerned so that he could strike where it hurt the most.

As his processors raced, his thoughts went to his beloved mech. When he got back to the base, he knew that he was going to have to suffer through the multiple hits from his wrench-wielding medic. But he knew that he deserved it. As soon as he saw Ratchet again, he would apologize for letting himself get captured so easily.

But the more he thought about Ratchet, the more he worried. Megatron already knew how important the medic was to him and his team. He was afraid that he would use Ratchet against him.

While he sat deep in his thoughts, the cell door across from him was opened. He jerked and faced three Decepticons, two holding the other one's arms, restraining him as he was thrown into his cell. The new prisoner was in horrendous shape, leaking Energon from multiple wounds, his remaining optic flickering dangerously.

The Decepticon was sporting a large gash across his faceplates, as well as his abdominal plates. His right arm was only held on by a few wires. It wouldn't take much to cause it to fall off the rest of the way. The dull gray paint on his armour was chipped and scratched and several parts of the armour itself had deep dents. His chestplates looked the worse. It seemed as if he was nearly squeezed to death. If they were pushed any closer to his spark chamber, it would be destroyed along with his spark. Optimus knew that Megatron was behind this.

The Decepticons that brought him didn't bother to give him any Energon cuffs, knowing that he wasn't a threat in his current condition. Optimus frowned at said condition as the Decepticon stirred, one dull red optic focusing on him. His faceplates only showed pain, even though he felt a stronger presence in front of him.

Prime's curiosity peaked as he stared at the injured Decepticon. "Why are you in here?" he asked.

The 'Con swallowed hard and tried to shift, only to wince when that brought him more unnecessary pain. "Lord Megatron doesn't take mistakes lightly." The Autobot looked at him, silently asking him to continue. "Lord Megatron gave me a job; I messed up one thing, so now I'm here. Like this."

"Why are you here?" The Decepticon scowled.

"I just answered that question, Autobot." Optimus shook his helm.

"Why are you here in the Decepticon base? You knew what was coming to you if you joined the Decepticons. Why did you?"

"I, along with every other Decepticon, was promised change. A better life, something to look forward to. The destruction of Cybertron was not included in the deal. But where else can I go? The Autobots? Believe it or not, but I have killed my fair share of Autobots."

Optimus remained silent and once again, got lost in his thoughts. The 'Con across from him did the same, trying not to let the pain he felt running through his frame show on his face. He knew, ever since he joined the Decepticons, he knew that Megatron was sparkless and cruel. But he thought that with the power he possessed, the mech would be able to do everything he claimed he would. Destroying Cybertron was never a part of that. He was torn between leaving the Decepticons or staying to continue to endure the pain that Megatron brought to most of his soldiers, his failing processors, and the empty promises that he would continue to make.

The Decepticon winced when he shifted slightly and aggravated one of the wounds on his leg. Going to the Autobots was out of the question. He didn't want to fight against the Decepticons, nor did he want to fight with them, but he didn't have anywhere else to go. Neutrals were quite rare in their war. But after careful and long thinking, the mech decided that if he could, he would help the Autobots. Megatron's cause no longer suited him.

Ratchet was strolling down the hallways of the base after First Aid had, once again, kicked him out. He didn't have anything left to do. All of his paperwork was finished and he had a lot of free time. As he walked, he heard rapid, violent gun shots that he knew could only come from their weapons specialist. The medic sighed and made his way to the training room, greeted with a barely noticeable grunt.

"Ironhide," Ratchet said. For a while, he said nothing, so he just waited.

"We had a plan," the mech snarled. "A damn good one. And now we have to throw it out because of one 'Con?" Ironhide kept firing shot after shot, hitting his targets with deadly accuracy, gained over millennia of fighting in his planet's civil war.

Ratchet sighed as he watched his old friend blow up each and every target perfectly. It seemed as if every shot made him angrier. "Prowl's doing his best. If I can remain calm about this so can you."

"Why are you so fraggin' calm anyway? It's your mech they took! Our leader! You should be as pissed as the rest of us!" Ironhide finally stopped his barrage of gunfire to look at the medic, anger shining in his deep blue optics. Ratchet scoffed and crossed his arms over his chestplates.

"You think I'm calm about this? Please. I'm saving my anger for the battlefield," he replied. The black mech looked taken aback.

"Prowl's letting you go?"

"He decided that it would be best after he incorporated me into his plan. The success rate went up five percent."

Ironhide smirked. "Hey, it's been a while since you were on the battlefield, old mech. Don't get killed out there. When we get Prime back, he's gonna need a medic. His favourite one at least."

Ratchet glared and threw a wrench at Ironhide's helm. With nearly identical accuracy to the weapons specialist's, it met its target easily. "I may be old, but my aim is almost as good as yours."

"I can tell."

And there's the next chapter. Sorry it was posted this late, but I wanted to get it over with before I forgot it was finished. And who's as excited for Age of Extinction as I am?

Denali Prime out!