Duty and Deceit
Chapter 19
Remembrance of Self
Breathe in, breathe out. Steady... take aim. Fire!
A black scorch mark appeared on the wall. Next to the target. The wall was smoking; several such marks covered its once-silver surface. She sighed. The spy hadn't managed to hit a single target.
"You okay? Normally you're a pretty good shot... something wrong? You aren't focused." Nightracer said, walking up to her and pushing her cannon down.
The Prussian blue and black femme smiled at her friend. "No nothing's wrong. I'm just a bit distracted... I think I'm going to cut our shooting practice short, 'Racer."
The light blue and gray sniper cocked her helm. "What's so distracting? Is it Shadowlight still? That was almost a quartex ago."
She looked at her friend sadly, but shook her helm. "No... I was actually contemplating getting a different paint job."
"Oh! That would be great... what colors were you thinking? I think you'd look fabulous in pink."
Under her battle mask, which she only left down when she was with Skyquake, the spy made a face and stuck out her glossa. "Pink? Yuck, I'd purge every time I saw myself. No, I was thinking a bit brighter blue, with a more silvery proto-plating, and sort of a yellow instead of my black. You think that would be good?"
Nightracer blinked several times before her red optics lit up. "You really had this thought out... those colors would be perfect for you!"
"That was my color scheme before-" She cut herself off before the memories could form in her thoughts. "When I was a youngling. I changed it when I got into the War. I don't remember the exact yellow though... maybe you could help?"
One and a Half Groons Later
She held up a bottle of gold paint for Nightracer to judge, turning around at the same time to look at the pale yellow the sniper was holding. With a long sigh, both femmes spoke up tiredly.
"Nope. Try another. Again."
The blue was out already as was the silver, but the two Decepticon femmes had been searching for a good shade of yellow for more than a groon. It had taken half that time just to find any shade of yellow. They were about to give up when Nightracer pulled out a bottle from the very back of the shelf.
The color reminded her of sunlight. It had been a while since Cybertron had a sun. The planet had floated out of its orbit about a vorn ago. She smiled softly. That was the right color; in fact, it was perfect.
"Terabyte, look at this one! Isn't it perfect?"
She nodded, "Just right. Now let's get started!"
She walked down the corridors to the mess hall, peeking around each corner before continuing. Her paint job had been great until she had to go to work. She felt like she stood out too much in a crowd. Yellow was an incredibly rare color among Decepticons.
Finally, she reached the mess hall. It was packed. Normally it was empty around now; she hadn't wanted to have lunch while it was full. Spotting Skyquake, the two-wheeler snuck through the crowd to the quiet corner that he was seated at, trying to look as inconspicuous as possible.
Her armor was too bright for a war zone. There was no way she could keep it. She loved it, but she couldn't keep it. Maybe after the War. When the Autobots' reign of terror ended.
Skyquake looked up at her and waved as she sat down. "New paint job? It really suits you."
Lowering her mask, the femme smiled at the compliment, but shook her helm. "I'm going to change it back as soon as I'm allowed."
He frowned. "Only an orn? Why?"
"How many other yellow Decepticons have you met? I stand out like oil in an Energon mine."
Skyquake laughed and took a long sip of his Energon. "I guess it's harder to sneak around when you practically glow in the dark... too bad; I still like it better."
She laughed quietly. "Maybe after the War... What'll you do, you know, after?"
He stared off into emptiness, a sad expression flashing over his faceplates before he brightened. His optics stayed clouded. "Oh, I don't know... I was on the streets before I found the 'Cons. What is there besides this? I'm happy now; I've got family, a home, and the best friend I could ever ask for. What more does a mech need?"
The walk back to the city was long and tensely silent. By the time they were in Jasper, Terabyte's mood was blacker than it had been in quite a while. Cliffjumper had wisely remained silent the rest of the trip... until they entered the city.
"Ho..." He breathed sharply, drawing out the 'o'. "Scrap, that hurts!"
Terabyte looked over at him quickly, her holographic red hair swinging with the motion. "What hurts?" She snapped, seeing nothing wrong.
"There's an organic walking on my hood." He groaned finally.
"What kind of organic?" She asked a little more gently, still remembering the extent of the damage her commander had dealt the red mech. She wasn't sure why Soundwave hadn't simply offed him. It was as if the purple spy had been playing with him.
"Coyote." He paused for a moment before his human face wrinkled up into a disgusted expression. "Ewww! It's lubricating on my tires! Blech, yuck, gross, ew... Do you know how long it takes to get the smell of organic waste fluids off? My olfactory sensors will be in torment for days!"
A few human pedestrians looked at the 'teenager' like he'd just lost his processor. They very pointedly left a wide space between themselves and him as they walked around. Terabyte heard a little boy ask his mother loudly.
"Aren't crazy people s'posed to be in a special hospit'l?"
His mother grabbed his hand and walked away even faster, her appalled whisper still reaching Terabyte, "Shh! Evan! The poor boy might have heard you!"
Terabyte's - until then - refrained laughter bubbled up in her chassis until she finally busted up laughing harder than she'd laughed since Skyquake left for his Earth mission. Doubled over and clutching her holographic stomach, the spy struggled to compose herself.
Cliffjumper's expression was distressed, yet amused at the same time. "It's not funny! The thing just lubricated on me and walked off!"
She looked up at him, biting her lip in a vain attempt to not laugh. It didn't work and soon she was laughing all over again. The sound of her mirth was contagious and soon Cliffjumper was laughing just as hard.
"Your face-!" She managed to get out amidst her silent laughs. She was laughing so hard that coolant began to fill her eyes. For a moment her concentration wavered and her holo-form glitched out. Thankfully, no one noticed. She wasn't even sure why it was so hilarious, but that was part of why she was laughing. Probably stress from her situation. "Should've seen your expression!"
Once they were finally calmed down, the spy and the Autobot continued towards the pay phone at the end of the road, both still grinning and stifling another round of laughing.
When they reached the phone, Cliffjumper motioned for her to go ahead. Terabyte cocked her head at the sign next to it, asking for '25¢'. She didn't have any human currency, though she was familiar with the substance.
"Do you have a 'quarter', sir?" Somehow, she forced her tone back to formality.
"Uh... no. Yes." Cliffjumper frowned. "In my backseat. Jack dropped it last time he rode with me."
Helpful. After thinking about it for a while, Terabyte shrugged and produced a holographic coin. It would make the machine work. She hated the dishonesty of it, but she didn't have a choice. If she ever got a chance, she'd pay it back later.
Dialing Raf's number, the spy held the device to the humans' version of an audio. The metallic ring echoed several times before the boy answered.
"Hello? Who is it?"
"This is Terabyte. Cl-"
"How are you using a phone?" Raf interrupted her quickly.
"I am using a holo-form. Cliffjumper and I n-" She growled lightly as the boy interrupted her again.
"What's a holo-form?"
Terabyte answered the question as simply as she could, hoping to avoid more interruptions. "A holo-form is a mobile, three dimensional image controlled and activated by a Cybertronian, which looks, sounds, and feels like whatever it is programmed for. We're using human holo-forms because our own frames are badly injured. Which takes me back to my initial r-"
"What do you look like? How'd you get hurt? D-"
"Raf!" Terabyte finally interrupted, feeling an illogical pleasure at being able to cut him off. "I'll answer any questions you have when we are back at base. Okay? Right now, tell Ratchet we need a bridge at these coordinates: 40 degrees north by -116 west."
"40 north by -116 west. Got it."
As soon as the boy confirmed the coordinates, Terabyte hung up and she and Cliffjumper dissolved their holo-forms. The spy heaved a sigh of relief as her processors were no longer split between two forms. At the same time, she was grateful for the kickstand holding her steady as the tiny motion upset her balancing systems again. Only through her senses could she know the world around her; not having streams of data about her surroundings constantly pouring through her made her helm feel empty and gave her a slightly light-helmed feeling.
She didn't know how humans did it, living their whole lives with only their eyes, ears, and nose to tell them of the world. They could never know the mass or density or temperature of objects... or anything.
Soon enough, a ground bridge portal appeared a few feet away from them. Cliffjumper groaned and started driving slowly towards it. Terabyte struggled to follow suit, but her steering was crooked and she had to make massive adjustments to her direction. In the end – after crashing into him multiple times – Cliffjumper slowed down and moved over just enough so that she could lean lightly against him for support and direction.
Arriving in the main chamber of the Autobot base, Terabyte looked around at the mechs gathered. All of them were wounded; scrapes, dents, and Energon marked the armor of everyone except Ratchet.
Terabyte considered transforming, but as she did so, a scenario played through her mind in which she rushed to transform, stumbled, tripped over Cliffjumper and landed in an undignified heap beside the red Dodge. Not such a great plan.
Cliffjumper whistled. "What on Earth happened to you guys? You look terrible."
Arcee, seated on a cargo box, snorted. "You're one to talk."
Meanwhile Ratchet was staring at the two latest arrivals with his mouth slightly open, his optics ablaze, and looking like he was genuinely about to blow a fuse in his processor. It took a considerable effort not to laugh at the medic. Absolutely everyone under his care required extensive repairs.
Optimus turned to look at Cliffjumper before replying soberly, "Our escort for Agent Fowler's DNGS - or, 'dingus' - was intercepted by a new enemy; a human organization known as MECH. Their technology is more advanced than any human organization we have yet encountered."
"Prime's mostly just beat up because he stepped in front of a moving train." Bumblebee whirred helpfully.
The picture of the regal Autobot leader just randomly walking in front of train flashed into Terabyte's processor. Before she could stop herself, the spy's handlebars tilted sceptically in the alt-mode equivalent of raising an optic ridge.
Ratchet walked over with a wrench in one hand and growled. "The children were on board, along with Fowler's machine. MECH destroyed the railway."
Terabyte inclined her helm slightly in acknowledgement. "The humans are unharmed?"
"Luckily for them." Ratchet answered grouchily.
Arcee's optics narrowed as she inspected the damage her partner had sustained. "The kids are fine. What I want to know is; what did you do to Cliffjumper?"
Hoping to feel less vulnerable, Terabyte slowly transformed into her bi-pedal mode, swaying a little before she regained her balance. Beside her, Cliffjumper did the same. It was very obvious that he had received far greater injuries.
Her armor flared out and she opened her mouth to reply in indignant self-defense, but Cliffjumper spoke first.
"Relax Arcee. Terabyte just saved my life."
Everyone in the room reacted in varying levels of surprise at the red mech's statement. Except the Prime. The bearer of the Matrix simply nodded as if he had been expecting something like that to happen. Terabyte maintained a neutral expression, scowling inwardly. She hadn't wanted to save the mech. He was an Autobot. She'd have let the warrior get offlined if it weren't for her mission. The strange feeling in her spark that had urged her to leap between him and the blade was long forgotten and ignored by the Decepticon spy.
Arcee glared at Cliffjumper, obviously not willing to believe it. Cliffjumper's engine growled in frustration. "Soundwave attacked me when Terabyte was at the school getting a holo-form on Prime's orders. She checked in and I requested back-up. I was severely injured and too weak to really fight back when she arrived. Soundwave had me in his grasp, ready to deal the final blow with his Energon blade when Terabyte leapt between me and the blade, risking her own life to rescue me."
The pink and blue femme's gaze remained skeptical. Bulkhead took a step forward in challenge. "We've already had one Decepticon spy get in here. How do you know she isn't a spy too? If she were a spy, she'd only have saved your aft to strengthen her cover."
Terabyte forced herself not to react to the accusation. Her snapped finial twitched, sending a massive wave of dizziness through her, making her wobble precariously as the world spun. The next breem could bring the end of her mission and probably, knowing the Autobots, the end of her life. Every action had to be perfect and totally supportive of her position.
"And if she really is on our side, why didn't she warn us about the Decepticon infiltrator? How did she always know where he was if she wasn't in touch with him?"
Terabyte pulled on a sickeningly pleading, innocent voice. At the same time, her balance failed and she crashed down on one knee, hands out to steady herself. "He was my mentor! I didn't know what would happen to him if you knew... The Decepticons torture and execute any infiltrators..."
Cliffjumper glared at Bulkhead and Arcee. "Hasn't Terabyte proved herself yet? Haven't you seen how kindly she treats the kids? She's gentle to the humans whether we're around or not, does that sound Decepticon to you? How can we ever have peace if we never trust? She was willing to sacrifice herself to save me from Soundwave. If she was only a Decepticon spy, would she have risked so much just for her cover?"
Bulkhead seemed to think over that for a moment before he nodded slowly and backed down. Arcee crossed her arms rebelliously, unconvinced.
The Prime looked at each one of them before turning to Arcee. "Cliffjumper has presented a valid point, Arcee. Terabyte has given us no reason to doubt her intentions and she has shown many of the very virtues we Autobots uphold. Her actions today were not the acts of a Decepticon."
Arcee stood unchanging for a moment before she reluctantly submitted to the Prime's authority. Satisfied that the argument was over, Optimus addressed the medic. "Ratchet, tend to Terabyte's sensor relays, they appear to be severely damaged. Then repair Cliffjumper and the others."
Terabyte shook her helm, shakily rising to her pedes, the motion causing her to nearly lose her balance again. "With all due respect, Lor- Prime, the damage I have sustained is in-insignificant, I am able to repair it myself. The medic's skill would be better used on someone more injured than myself."
"As you wish." Optimus answered with a nod of approval. "Ratchet?"
The medic stared at Terabyte in shock for a moment - knowing the pain her finials were know doubt causing her - before dipping his helm. With Bulkhead and Bumblebee's help, Cliffjumper was taken to med-bay for repairs.
Earlier That Rotation (Approximately One Hour After Terabyte and Cliffjumper Left for Patrol.)
The first thing Skyquake noticed upon waking was the sound. Someone was humming rather off-tune to an unheard music. The next thing he noticed was that that someone was very, very close to him. Finally, and perhaps the most disturbing thing, he realized that there was something squishy on his chassis. He could feel something wet being dragged across his chest, a smear of thick wet liquid sticking to his armor where the something had touched.
Skyquake onlined his optics slowly, a rush of ecstasy flowing through him at how the optics came online right when he wanted them to. His helm didn't hurt so bad either, though his processors were still not completely synced. Cautiously the army green jet looked down at his chassis.
He would have jumped upright if he wasn't so tightly restrained to the berth. Finally, he blinked. Laying on his chest was an organic creature of some sort. Its helm was black and pink and its finials were strangely floppy. Cords were sticking out of the sides of its helm. In its hands, the creature held a stick that was dripping a strange neon pink liquid onto his chassis. Beside it was a pile of tiny containers, likely containing more of the liquid?
It blinked back at him several times before standing up – on his chest – and shouting. "RAAATTCHET! He's awake!"
Skyquake cocked his helm at the little creature before tentatively asking, "What on Cybertron es vous?" Another thrill of excitement rushed through him as he realized that the words had come out properly, for the most part. Languages had gotten garbled this time. Cybertronian and a couple of human languages.
The squishy thing frowned at him. "Huh?"
The jet thought for a moment before trying again. His processors hadn't fully absorbed the data the medic had given him and being out of sync was still slowing the process considerably. "What... you?"
"Oh! My name's Miko. I'm a human." The thing replied cheerfully.
"Miko." Skyquake ran a mental search for the word 'human'. A short message appeared on his HUD. It read, 'Word not found. Consulting Archives... Error: Archives not found.' "Human?"
It gaped at him for a moment before muttering, "Sheesh, this guy doesn't know anything." Louder the creature explained, "Humans are the people of Earth. Like you guys are Cybertronians."
Skyquake considered this for a moment before nodding. He looked down at the rainbows, flowers, and other such scenery that had been doodled on his chassis in bright sticky colors. "Miko: messy. Why?"
He was guessing that the creature was a femme, though he still couldn't remember anything about these 'humans'. She grinned at him and shrugged her shoulders. Mimicking his inability to speak properly, the squishy laughed. "Fun: Pretty."
The large green jet regarded the sticky scribbles on his chassis. He shook his helm, unconvinced. He didn't even try to speak properly, rather he teased, "Not... Messy, gross, ugly. No fun."
The squishy giggled and bent down, dragging a stripe of the pink across his faceplates. Skyquake chuckled at the human's antics. He concluded that this femme was only a youngling. At this moment, Ratchet entered again. He took one look at the human and Decepticon and stopped in his tracks, dropping the welding torch he was holding.
Hearing the torch crash on the concrete, Skyquake and Miko looked at the medic simultaneously. Miko grinned. "Hi, Ratch! You sure this guy's a 'Con? He's way too fun to be a Decepticon."
Ratchet spluttered for several astroseconds before he finally managed to reply. "Miko, this- this monster is a known war criminal! He would kill you without a second thought, if he so chose. Get away from him."
Monster. War criminal. Merciless killer. Was that what he was before? Skyquake repressed a shudder. If that was who he had been, did he really want to remember? He didn't want to be the root of sparkling's nightmare stories. He didn't want to be feared.
"Doc, relax! He's got a scary voice, that's all. Besides, he couldn't move if he wanted to. You've got enough restraints on him to hold down an angry t-rex!" With that, the femme-ling sat down on his chassis and crossed her arms over her chest.
Ratchet didn't look convinced and walked up to the berth, picking up Miko's containers in one hand and the back of her shirt between two servos of the other. As soon as he touched her, the human began kicking and yelling at him.
"Ow! Ratchet, put me down! Lemme go!" When that tactic failed, the girl started screaming. "Bulkhead!"
This needed to be stopped. The youngling hadn't done anything wrong. Skyquake's engine growled and his processors were emerged suddenly in a memory. This memory was from much, much farther back in his database.
He was standing behind a blue and gold youngling. His spark seemed drawn to this youngling and they spoke in each other's minds. The blue youngling showed no signs of fear, yet somehow he knew that this youngling was terrified and angry.
His own arm was hurting and he was upset about something. Someone had just stolen his...
The memory was garbled and incomplete, like a puzzle that was mostly put together, but still had pieces missing.
... Whatever it was, it was important to him. He peeked around the other youngling and saw several older mechs closing in on them. Their armor was patched and didn't match, and each one of them held sharp weapons in their hands. They were much larger than he and the blue youngling.
The biggest one laughed cruelly, brandishing his scimitar. There was nowhere to run. "Hello, little mechs... remember us?"
"How could we forget you?" The blue one mocked, his courage radiating through their minds. "You smell so bad... My olfactory sensors haven't recovered from the last time we met."
Emboldened, he added to the other mech's mocking. "Yeah, we've been in waste pipes cleaner than you!"
The larger mech's gang started laughing before his angry glare silenced them. The leader growled and reached over the blue and gold youngling's helm to pick him up by the neck armor. He yelped in pain. "Lemme go! Let. Me. Go!"
"'Quake!" The blue mechling yelled. "Put him down! Pick on someone your own size."
The mismatched mech twirled the blade around several times and pouted in a falsely innocent tone. "Now what would be the fun in that?" He sneered. "No, why don't we see just how many more ways your spark can split, eh?"
During Skyquake's Glitch-out/Memory
Ratchet held the insubordinate child between his thumb and forefinger, her paints in his other hand. The murderer was growling in the restraints, stretching them as far as he could. Miko kicked and squealed in his grip. She had no idea of the unforgivable crimes committed by the mech now covered in her artwork.
Humans were too soft: fragile. Especially younglings. She needed to stay away from the Decepticon killer.
He was about to set the girl down outside of med-bay when he heard a loud cracking sound. Miko's kicking stopped and she went slightly limp in his hold.
"Awesome…" She breathed as she stared behind his back.
Ratchet turned around slowly just in time to see an army green blur and hear his fearsome bellow. The medic ducked out of the way and the enraged Decepticon painted in neon crashed into the frosted glass, smashing through it and landing on his hands in the main chamber. Bulkhead and Bumblebee rushed over to investigate the noise.
Quickly the medic shoved Miko under the medical berth and locked optics with her for a moment. His engine growled threateningly. "So help me… If you move a single cell away from this berth, I will tie you to it for the rest of your short human life."
The way she grinned up ever-so-innocently at him made Ratchet positive that she wasn't going to pay attention to a word he said. With a long sigh, he stood up to face the one who killed Prowl. The jet had regained his pedes and was charging towards him again, shouting.
"- last time we met… Lemme go! Let. Me. Go!"
Ratchet frowned slightly. The green mech's words were childish and made little sense. Why… His musings were cut short as the Decepticon's huge fist collided with his face. The Autobot medic blinked several times at the pain, trying to see through the stars floating in his vision. Energon started oozing from his lip
For less than an astro-second, Ratchet's gaze landed on his attacker's optics. The ruby red optics were dull, partially dimmed as if… the medic's own optics lit up at the revelation. As if the Decepticon were in recharge! He was sleep-walking. Something must have triggered a mental glitch-out in Skyquake's new, unsynced processor; possibly a memory of some sort, thus explaining the unusual words.
Bulkhead and Bumblebee rushed in just then and lunged at the prisoner simultaneously, only succeeding in knocking Skyquake off balance before the two warriors crashed into each other and landed slightly dazed on the floor next to the Decepticon.
Ratchet rolled his optics impatiently as Bulkhead groaned lowly. Klutz. "Take the Decepticon to the brig before anything else is destroyed." He snapped after resisting the urge to just brain the lot of them.
In spite of the fact that he knew the young girl was going to disobey, Ratchet nearly blew a fuse when he caught sight of Miko. She was standing no more than two meters away from where Skyquake had tripped and fallen. Her little pink cell-phone was out and held up. Photos. Again. The medic pressed his servos to the bridge of his nose and sighed.
"I thought I told you to stay put."
Skyquake gasped as the memory ceased abruptly. So much of it hadn't made sense. Who was the blue youngling? What had the gang leader mean by 'more ways his spark could split'?
"Medic! Put the human sparkling down!" He roared as soon as he remembered what had been going on.
"Uh... any clue what he's talking about?" Someone asked. He felt his arm jerk up slightly as another person shrugged. A strange beeping came from next to him, the sound resembling a cyber-cuckoo.
That was when Skyquake realized that he wasn't in med-bay. He looked around, confused. Now he was in a hallway. A large olive green mech was gripping his left forearm and a smaller yellow mech was on the other side. He was taller than both of them were.
His hands were cuffed behind his back and the colorful paint on his chassis was gone. He didn't know where he was or where he was going. He didn't remember getting here.
Skyquake frowned. "Where-? How?"
"The Hatchet said to take you to the brig." The yellow one informed him as they started walking again.
At Skyquake's puzzled expression, the green one explained, "He means Ratchet; the medic. You went berserk and attacked him, remember?"
"... No."
The green jet said no more after that and neither did his guards. Once he was safely secured in a prison cell, the two Autobots left. Soon the base was silent and Skyquake was left to delve into the murky depths of his mind. He needed to remember who he was.
Present. Onboard the Nemesis. Bridge.
"Soundwave! Where have you been?" Starscream shouted impatiently. "I did not give you permission to leave. Come here and fix this drone, it's malfunctioning again."
Soundwave glared at the whiny Air Commander through his visor. The fool actually thought he was in command. When Lord Megatron awoke, the Seeker would be dealt with. Until then, he must bide his time and allow Starscream to live.
He approached silently and examined the drone in question. He could sense its pain and confusion. It was the one designated Backfire. An accurate designation. It was walking into the wall, taking a step back and repeating the action. At this point, its visor had come off, and its faceplates were hammered into a flat, blank slate. Backfire had likely been slamming its face into the wall for the whole two rotations that Soundwave had been absent.
The solution was simple. Soundwave calmly pressed a tiny, near-invisible button just below the drone's helm. Backfire ceased. The facial damage was irreparable. A blind, faceless Vehicon was useless; merely a drain on Energon. Silently he ordered a crew of Vehicons to dispose of the carcass.
Starscream huffed. "Well, did you find anything useful on your unauthorized excursion?"
Soundwave showed none of his irritation, instead showing an image of his lieutenant, Terabyte. He held up the data chip she had slipped to him during the battle. Ignoring the Seeker, Soundwave walked to his console and inserted the chip.
Her encryptions were well organized; the coding structured excellently, though nowhere near his level. He tore the codes apart with ease, and in a few klicks the report appeared onscreen. The report was tidy, succinct, and precise; the lieutenant's work was always a prime example of his expectations from those in his department.
Starscream mumbled under his breath as he read the report to himself. Finally, the Seeker stood back. "Excellent... Your infiltrator is doing well... The Autobots will soon be at our mercies." Starscream laughed harshly. "That is, if we had any."
Soundwave gestured to the husk of Backfire. The Vehicons were loading the carcass into a mining cart; Backfire would continue to serve the Decepticon cause in the form of spare parts. However, Vehicon numbers were decreasing; too many were falling in battle. Their army was shrinking.
Starscream scowled. "Yes, I know." He snapped. "Begin cloning the remaining Vehicons. When we learn the location of the Autobot base, I want an army ready to destroy them."