Duty and Deceit
Chapter 23
Confrontations
The Prussian blue and black femme stood alone in the back doorway of the mess hall. She was standing because the other tables all had other mechs seated at them. Her usual table that she sat at with Skyquake was occupied too. He and his twin were deep in silent mental discussion, every now and then Dreadwing would smirk slyly, or Skyquake would bust up laughing at seemingly nothing at all.
He looked so happy to have his brother back. Poor mech's spark must have been in turmoil to be separated from him so long. Twin sparks were never meant to be separated.
Draining the last of her Energon, the spy threw away her cube and left. She was planning to visit Shadowlight after her last shift. The silver jet had been taken to the brig after attacking her and was still there to this day. The higher ups had her locked up because of mental instability. The femme would be released if and when she was stable.
She held no grudge against Shadowlight. In that position, she'd probably have done the same. Again, twin sparks were never meant to be separated.
Halfway down the corridor, she heard heavy pede-falls approaching from behind. Whoever it was was running. She kept walking at the same pace, not even turning around to see who it was.
Deciding that she'd go to her quarters to try to Shift between work shifts, the femme took a sharp left turn. The pede-falls, rather than fading into the distance, continued to get closer. Still, she thought little of it.
"Terabyte!" Skyquake called as he caught up to her. Lunging forward, he grabbed her elbow, bringing her to a halt. "Tera, wait up."
She turned around to face the green jet. She didn't lower her mask. "Hi Skyquake."
He grinned down at her before a concerned frown touched his face. "Hey. You haven't come to train for orns..."
She averted her gaze. It was true. She hadn't even bothered going to train. Soundwave hadn't given her any field missions since her little chat with the Lord Protector either. "I've been busy." The femme muttered, the tell-tale twitch informing her friend of the empty excuse.
"I waited for you." She lowered her helm guiltily. She'd figured he was busy with Dreadwing. He continued, "I hardly see you any more... And your mask is up."
In spite of herself, the two-wheeler smiled at her friend's whiny tone, though her mask didn't retract. She wasn't quite sure how to make him understand. "I just thought that you were... I mean with Dreadwing back, and..." Shaking her helm slightly, the femme started over, her voice firmer with a hint of bitterness. "Your twin is back now, you don't need me anymore. Besides, Dreadwing is... less than fond of me. You don't need that between you."
To her immense surprise, the green jet laughed. He laughed long and hard before he finally got a hold of himself. Pushing her chin up so she was looking into his optics, Skyquake shook his helm. "I know I've been with Dread since he got back, but he's my brother... It had already been several quartex since I'd seen him when you came along." A dark mist shrouded his ruby optics for a moment as he no doubt recalled the pain of separation. "Split sparks aren't meant to be separated like that. You're the only reason I'm still sane."
She grinned slyly, walking again at a leisurely pace towards the training arena. "Ish."
Optics twinkling, he accepted the suffix. "Okay, sane-ish." His tone quickly became serious again. "But Terabyte, don't you ever think that my brother being here means the end of our friendship. Dread's just jealous, he'll get over it."
The desperation in his voice was clear. And she understood. He didn't want to get stuck in a position where he'd have to choose between them. Not that there would really be a choice; spark split twin with whom he shared minds or close friend. Not hard.
"Don't be too surprised if we don't exactly get along though. Your brother's a bit of a jerk." She replied with a small chuckle as she lowered her battle mask. Her first impressions were still fresh in her mind and not too pleasant.
Skyquake laughed fondly. "Yeah... But he's my jerk."
Ratchet watched the Prussian blue and black femme approach out of the corner of his optic. The red and white medic continued to work on his medical report on the Decepticon, trying to ignore the femme very obviously coming to disturb him about something or other that was wrong. He wished people didn't look up to him so much. They always expected him to be able to magically fix their problems, no matter what the problem was.
"Medic." Terabyte called formally. Poor femme had been lied to by the 'Cons for so long. Couldn't even go to a medic without fear.
"What." He snapped tetchily. Truth was, he couldn't always fix it, so he couldn't get attached to anyone or thing lest it break in this pointless war. Similar thoughts had been foremost in his thoughts that day.
The femme's branding ceremony had brought many unwanted memories to mind. Prowl's ceremony had been so alike. Prompt and unplanned, not entirely adherent to protocols. He had protested Prowl joining their forces. Little did he know that the ex-Con would soon become one of his most trusted friends. Staying away hadn't worked with Prowl. Things would have been so much easier if it had worked, yet so much harder all the same.
"-Skyquake?" Ratchet realized that he'd completely missed Terabyte's request. Nevertheless, the medic smirked, knowing exactly what the femme wanted.
"His frame has accepted the new processor and it is now fully integrated. At this point in time he ought to have regained the majority of his memories." He replied gruffly.
Terabyte's whole frame sagged with relief until she seemed to catch herself and snap back into formality. She was a lot like Prowl in that way: trying so hard to hide that she had any sort of feelings. Trying to keep the whole world ignorant of her spark, and that she even had one. Prowl had been so painfully good at it.
Her voice had the slightest hint of annoyance, probably at herself, when she spoke again. "Permission to take the prisoner his Energon ration."
The medic nodded swiftly, returning to his report. When he could no longer hear her quickly retreating pede-falls, Ratchet smiled faintly and shook his helm. He always had been better at reading mechs than most.
'I'll never betray the Decepticons, sir. I wouldn't help those murderers if my life depended on it.' When he'd barely known her, that was how she'd responded when he'd questioned her loyalty. In all the vorns he'd known her, Terabyte had stood true to that declaration.
Until now.
Skyquake stared at the Autobot symbol etched into her armor. A million emotions flickered through his spark, but awe remained first and foremost. Blinking his optics as if to make sure that what he was seeing was real, the jet stifled a betrayed growl.
"What have you done?"
She must have heard his growl anyway. Terabyte's optics were filled with… anger, hurt. She seemed conflicted with herself.
He'd trusted her and she'd betrayed their cause. She'd betrayed him.
He stood up. "You betrayed us. After all this time, you've betrayed us. I trusted you." He took a step towards her, mostly unaware of how menacing he looked as he towered over her. "You're a traitor to your people."
The Energon cube in her hands crashed to the floor and she backed away a few steps. "I-it's not like that…"
The femme lay crumpled against the Earth boulder, a small trickle of life-En rolling down her frame from the massive dented gash in the proto-plating. Her bio-lights flickered as the femme blinked her golden optics, stunned. The setting sun reflected off her armor, sparkling; the beauty blissfully ignorant of the pain he'd just caused his best friend…
Every thought in his mind ceased, the femme's reaction painfully awakening the brief memory. The fear in her voice… the way she shied away as if wounded - as if afraid of being wounded again. He looked down at the spilled Energon and shattered glass at his pedes. What was he doing? How could he allow himself to frighten his best friend like that? He didn't want her to fear him.
She met his optics for half a second before she shifted her gaze away. "The Decepticons no longer care about life. They kill without a second's thought…"
"What about Protihex? That wasn't the Decepticons." He pointed out, his voice a little softer than before. He didn't back down completely. She'd still betrayed him.
Skyquake heard the femme's vents hitch. "The Decepticons have destroyed far more cities than the Autobots ever did: Uraya, Praxus, Crystal City, Nova Cronum, Altihex…" At her next statement, her left finial twitched repeatedly. He vaguely remembered that the twitch indicated something important, but he couldn't remember why. "I don't even think the Autobots were entirely responsible for the destruction of Protihex."
He cocked his helm curiously, "What makes you think that?"
"T-the Autobots have been nothing but kind to me. They value honesty, respect, life, and duty." Her finial twitched backwards several more times in succession. "They're like a family to each other."
His ruby optics dimmed considerably as he processed this. Finally he spoke up quietly. "Are you happier here?"
That was what mattered the most. As long as she was happy, he would learn to accept this sudden change.
Black finial twitching harshly, far more insistently, Terabyte replied firmly. "I am. I'm happy here …" She whispered, most likely not meaning for him to hear. "I am following my duty, this is my mission."
With that, she smiled at him before leaving him to his thoughts. Skyquake frowned. What had she meant by her 'mission'? He didn't seem to remember her believing in destiny…
Terabyte gave Skyquake a half-sparked smile and left the brig. As soon as she was out of hearing range, the femme sighed deeply. It had been two earth weeks since she officially joined the Autobots. She'd spent most of that time arguing with herself about when to visit him. It felt so wrong to not be able to speak freely with him.
Had she spoken with too much conviction? And the twitch! Surely he would have noticed the telling twitch. Or had he forgotten? Why did Soundwave order her not to tell him?
As she wandered through the halls, the spy's thoughts wandered too. Very soon she'd know the location of their base... In fact, her mission had gone far faster than anyone had expected. Her next report would likely contain the coordinates.
She scowled at the door to her quarters before walking past. There were so many questions in her mind now. She was beginning to wonder if the Autobots really were masquerading. Now that she was one of them, everyone had definitely been more relaxed. Yet their attitudes remained consistent, even when they didn't know she was watching.
Her recent conversation with Bulkhead lay heavy on her spark. Terabyte had had time to run his story through her logic centers and it all seemed to make sense. She could see how the scientist's cold, sparkless logic could have justified it. Destroy his evidence while bringing shame to the Autobots' name. If she had nurtured a hatred for the Autobots because of Protihex, it only made sense that others would have as well.
But the records never said anything about a lab under Protihex. Then again, Megatron had ordered a wipe of Shockwave's records in one of his deals with the mech shortly after her arrival in Kaon.
Terabyte shook her helm as if hoping to clear it of confusion. Logic may approve, but her spark was not willing to believe without hard evidence. She needed solid, irrefutable proof before she could accept it.
But what could she trust as an honest source? It wasn't as if she could go to Cybertron.
"A beautiful melody..." The Prime's voice cut into her thoughts. "Not one I'm familiar with."
Terabyte jumped at the voice and turned her helm to see that Optimus was walking beside her. "What? Melody?"
He smiled. "You were humming." To her surprise, the mech began to tentatively imitate the tune. He hit several strange notes, but she recognized it immediately. When he finished he had a slightly chagrined expression, knowing how off-key he was. "A Decepticon lullaby?"
Shaking her helm, the femme's optics misted over. "I hadn't realized that I was humming... No, it was a Protihexian poem that my carrier and sire put music to. We made a lot of our own music..."
After a while of silence, Optimus finally spoke up, changing the subject. They'd nearly made a full round of the base. "Have you been treated well?"
"Since this?" Terabyte gestured to the insignia centered on her 'belt'. "I have been treated well..."
The Prime chuckled lightly, prompting her to continue. "However?"
She averted her gaze as they continued walking, not really going anyplace in particular. "I still do not know just exactly what y-we believe in as Autobots. I know the regulations, but aside from them I know only what I learned in Decepticon ranks."
"Yes, I meant to address that matter directly after the ceremony..." His optics were shining brightly, as if he was excited by the prospect of spewing Autobot propaganda to her. He started with his famous quote, "First and foremost, we as Autobots believe in justice and freedom for all sentient beings."
Every casualty list she'd ever filed scrolled behind her optics. 'Freedom for all'; a good thing to believe. But the only freedom she'd seen come by Autobot hands was freedom from life. "Freedom from what?" Her tone was deceptively void of malice.
"Tyranny and oppression." He paused for a while. "We fight so that our world may live again in peace and prosperity. Free from the dictatorship of mechs who care only for their own wealth and power, not for the well-being of the people. We fight for a Cybertron that doesn't fear what the next day will bring."
Terabyte stared ahead, deep in thought. Something in his voice... such deep spark-felt conviction. She believed Optimus Prime.
She was much younger. Still a sparkling. Her yellow and blue armor sparkled in the light as she sat in the middle of the room playing with her dolls. Hearing her sire's heavy pede-falls, the sparkling looked up adoringly at Bullwing. Coolant was dried on his face.
Wobbling on her chubby pedes, she toddled up to her sire, who swooped down to catch her in a tight hug. She squirmed around until she could touch his face. With one stubby little servo, the sparkling traced the line of coolant. Poking out her lower lip, she asked him solemnly. "Da cwies?"
"My little Terabyte!" He hugged her closer until she felt squished. Then he set her on her little pedes and, gripping her shoulders, spoke more seriously to her than he ever had before. "Sparklet, whatever comes in your life, always remember what your carrier and I have taught you. And above that, always listen to what your spark tells you is right, no matter what everyone else is doing. Do you understand, Terabyte?"
With wide optics, the sparkling nodded. "Member Da's sayses an' lis-listen to spark. Awways."
Bullwing smiled and tickled her belly, making her fall backwards squealing with laughter. Chuckling, his pride shone in his voice. "That's it, sparkling. Awways."
Optimus smiled and nodded. "Wise advise... Advise that we as Autobots strive to stand by."
She frowned. Simultaneously she made two realizations. One, they weren't walking anymore and she hadn't noticed when they'd stopped. And two, the Prime was replying to something she'd said, though she didn't realize she'd spoken aloud.
"Sorry?" Terabyte felt rather foolish about having for the second time that conversation said something she'd meant to remain in her mind and having to ask to find out what she'd said.
"'Always listen to what your spark tells you is right': something your sire told you?" The Prime asked gingerly, seeming to understand the sensitivity of the topic.
She sighed deeply as she thought about her sire. "He told me that when I was just a sparkling. Bullwing was the best sire a mech could ask for..."
Optimus hummed thoughtfully. "Bullwing. He was one of the Decepticons greatest soldiers. Very early in the war he went neutral. You are very proud of him... I wish I could have met him."
"I didn't know that." Terabyte whispered, referring to her sire's past, her vocals cracking painfully. "There was a lot I never knew about my parents..."
Coolant tears welled up behind her optics and she lowered her helm, trying to hold them back. Finally she managed to croak out a quiet, "Permission to patrol the perimeter, sir."
"Granted." She was halfway through her transformation sequence when the Prime stopped her. "Terabyte. Take Cliffjumper with you."
The second half of her transformation was considerably less enthusiastic. She needed to get out, into the peaceful silence where she could drive away her troubles. She wouldn't be able to if she brought the talkative, overly optimistic fighter. That and the vehicle mode related restrictions...
"Must I?"
The Autobot leader chuckled knowingly. "You may choose one of the others if you would prefer."
Shaking her front wheel in the motorcycle approximation of an acknowledging nod, Terabyte rolled down the corridor in search of a suitable 'guard'.
The dry, warm winds of the Nevada desert rushed over the Prussian blue motorcycle's slim frame. Riding over a hundred miles an hour, a huge dust cloud billowed in her wake. Behind and to her left drove a yellow Chevrolet Camaro with black racing stripes.
She had chosen the scout because she figured Bumblebee wouldn't bother her. She knew she was capable of much higher speeds, but out of consideration for the mech, she was maintaining a relatively moderate pace.
The harsh air tore away the tensions that had built up in her frame and processors over the past few orns. It was just her and the earth beneath her tires. No disguises, no schemes, just peace. Finally she could analyze her problems objectively, reasonably.
Terabyte now knew the exact coordinates of the Autobots base. With this knowledge, she now held the sparks of these mechs at the tips of her servos. Normally she wouldn't hesitate. She'd fulfill her duty and vengeance simultaneously without a second thought.
But it was different now.
Now she saw the war from both faction's viewpoints. She'd seen the Autobots kill and the Decepticons kill, and she had an idea of each one's purpose. Who was she to judge one guilty and the other pure? War is war, neither side is ever innocent... but how could she decide whose intent was right?
She needed more information. Solid evidence against one side or the other. Until then, she would have to bide her time.
At first the femme had always counted Protihex as proof enough, but the statistics said otherwise. For every one city destroyed by the Autobots, the Decepticons totaled three. And now Cybertron was dark and the people scattered.
She would not judge without sufficient evidence.
Bing!
Terabyte slammed on her brakes, squealing to harsh and abrupt halt, having been surprised by the sudden noise. Moments later a blur of black and yellow zipped past before making a u-turn to come to a stop in front of her.
"Wha- oh; message." The scout interrupted himself as he too received the transmission ping.
/Terabyte, Bumblebee, come back to base stat. Optimus is ill./ Ratchet commed, his glyphs showing his concern.
Bumblebee flashed his headlights twice before shooting off in the direction of the base. The Decepticon femme was quick to follow.
It felt as if they'd been waiting for the medic's diagnosis for joors, though they all knew it had been only a few klicks. Ratchet now examined the scans of a small life-En sample from the Prime's frame. Around Optimus' right optic, the faceplate was rusting at an alarming rate.
Terabyte stood in the back corner of the med-bay, glaring at the Prime as if it was his fault she was worried. She tried to tell herself that she wasn't really concerned for the enemy leader's well-being. As if she would care if the Autobot lived or died!
Yet... She did.
"Well?" She growled finally.
Ratchet huffed. "Cybonic plague. It's only contagious if contact is made with infected Energon."
On the catwalk built specially for the humans, Miko frowned. "What was a plague doing in an Autobot spaceship?"
"It's passengers were infected." Ratchet explained.
"The virus wiped out millions during the great War." Arcee stated.
Double checking her database, Terabyte stepped forward to look more closely at the Prime's rusting optic. "Cybonic plague, also known as cosmic rust, was engineered in the Decepticon Biological Warfare Program. The exact mech that created it was un-"
The red and white medic interrupted her bitterly. "Of course since equal numbers of Decepticons fell to the plague alongside Autobots, he would have kept that fact off record in order to keep his troops in line. The Cybonic plague was invented by Megatron himself."
Raf glanced between Terabyte and the medic pleadingly. "But… you have a cure, don't you?"
A memory of Smokescreen enacting his infamous begging face flashed before her optics and Terabyte felt her spark long to give the boy the answer he wanted.
Optimus groaned, straining to say his part, finally croaking his calm answer, "No. Cure..."
Ratchet's whole demeanor softened instantly. "Optimus, please. Save your strength."
Jack pressed himself against the rail, gripping it firmly. "Would Megatron create a disease without having a cure? I mean, what if he caught it accidentally?"
Arcee snorted. "It's not like we can ask Megatron, Jack."
Across the room, Bulkhead huffed in agreement. "He's pushin' up lugnuts."
The Decepticon spy conveniently forgot to mention that Soundwave had detected her leader's life signal. "If we could somehow get on the Nemesis... My codes should still work, and if not, I could hack into the database pretty easily ."
The medic's turquoise blue optics widened. "For the moment... We still have a fix on their location!"
"I'll go with her." Cliffjumper, Bumblebee, and Arcee all said simultaneously.
Glancing at the three of them, Terabyte shrugged noncommittally. "Four will be too noticeable."
Cliffjumper stepped forward. Catching the worried and clearly unsatisfied gleam in Arcee's optics, the red mech grinned. "Relax, 'Cee, we'll be fine."
"Just watch your six, Cliff'." The blue and pink Autobot warned darkly.
The warrior snorted. "Even if she did try to turn on me, Short Stuff here couldn't do much on me."
'That's what you think.' Terabyte thought, growling at the new nickname. Out loud she said, "The Prime doesn't have time to chat, in case you have forgotten."
Opening the ground bridge, Ratchet gave them his final instructions. "Go quickly and maintain an open comm-line." With that, Autobot and spy stepped through the bridge, neither sure of what might await on the other side.
Emerging from the green portal, Terabyte and Cliffjumper looked around quickly, finding themselves thankfully to be in a small, deserted corridor. She took a deep vent of the Nemesis air, expecting to enjoy the familiar scent. It wasn't as nice as she remembered it. Instead it was stale and bitter, like... a battlefield.
She pressed her back against the wall, motioning for Cliffjumper to do the same, her sensitive finials catching faint, approaching pede-falls. The shadows wrapped around them as they waited. Finally, Knockout walked past.
Terabyte held her breath as the Decepticon medic stopped in the middle of the hallway entrance, listening. After a while the mech shrugged and moved on.
"Whew. So... which-" Cliffjumper started in a slightly loud whisper.
"Shhh!" The dark femme hissed urgently. In answer to his unfinished query, Terabyte jerked her helm to the left. Twice more between there and the lab she knew would be empty at that groon the two intruders had to avoid wandering Vehicons.
Their position still secret, the Prussian blue two-wheeler locked the door to the lab once both were safely inside. Immediately finding and activating the master terminal, Terabyte quickly found that the access codes had been changed.
Access denied. Trying several alternate combinations, the results were unchanged. Access denied.
Heaving a frustrated vent of cool air, she tried several more. Access denied. "Stand guard, Cliffjumper. This might take a while."
Access denied. Initiating intruder alert in ten, nine...
"Scrap..." Terabyte speedily pulled open a slat on her wrist and connected the wire, directly linking her processor to the terminal. Synced with the computer, her logic centers were able to input the possible codes a hundred times faster than she could type them.
Three, two... Access granted. Continue countdown? Yes/No... Cancelling intruder alert.
"Tell Ratchet I'm in..." She muttered as she formulated a search algorithm for any and all medical vaccines and cures. Terabyte wasn't expecting a very long list of solutions to the algorithm. She had expected wrong.
Showing 2,183 results in 3.792539 seconds.
Narrowing the search down to plague cures, the femme scanned the leftover four hundred and twenty one results. Nothing. Cocking an optic ridge, Terabyte tried yet another algorithm. None of the fifty two were for cosmic rust. She kept trying until her narrowed down searches came up with nothing.
/It's not here./ Terabyte commed calmly.
Glyphs frantic, the medic replied, /Are you sure, Terabyte?/
/Positive. Searched every file./
Ratchet's patience was long gone. She could almost see the medic's optics fritzing. /Well search again! Clearly, you missed something!/
The Decepticon spy rolled her optics impatiently. /I am directly linked to the system. By a hard line connection. It's not here./
/Did you use a redundant quantum algorithm?/
She growled in aggravation. She didn't need an Autobot medic to tell her how to do her job. She sent back a sarcastic, /Yes, I did. Because clearly Soundwave would have gladly kept incompetent femmes in his department./
Cliffjumper chose that moment to interrupt her silent argument with the worried medic. "Uh... TB? Think you might wanna come check this out."
She turned to the door he was staring through with disbelieving optics. The red mech had left guarding the door to explore a little bit and had apparently found something.
"What is i-" The words died in her vocalizer as she beheld the sight before her. Lying there, amidst a jungle of tubes and wires, was the Lord Protector himself. The only sign that he was alive was the monitor beside him reading mental activity.
Next to her, Cliffjumper spoke in awed tones. "It's Megatron... He's alive."
Apparently he was talking to Ratchet through his comm. speaking aloud out of consideration. After a few seconds he replied to an unheard skepticism. "Well, we're staring right at him. Good news is: ole bucket head's not exactly - ah - ship shape."
Terabyte stepped closer to the great warrior's berth to examine the readings more closely. Her leader was entirely dependant upon the life support systems. His processor patterns suggested that he was in a mere vegetative dream state.
"So, while I'd hate to be a glory hog, I'm going to end this here and now." As the red mech spoke, he had a harsh determination etched across his faceplates. Raising both of his blasters, Cliffjumper charged his weapons and took aim.
"Wait! Don't shoot!" Terabyte yelled, stepping between the Autobot and the warlord. At the same time, a similar message from Ratchet appeared on her HUD in frantic glyphs.
Cliffjumper cocked an optic ridge, wiggling his blasters impatiently. "Gimme one good reason. Better make it snappy too, gettin' a bit trigger happy here."
/Megatron may be Optimus's only hope for survival./
The Prussian blue and black spy smirked as the fighter's mouth fell open, his guns transforming back into hands as they dropped with his jaw. "What? How?"
/Does he display brainwave activity?/
/Affirmative./ Terabyte sent in instant reply.
"His sick mind's still at work." Cliffjumper muttered. "But what's that got to do with the Big Bot?"
Both medic and spy answered simultaneously. "If a cure exists, Megatron may be the only one who knows it." Ratchet continued to explain. /You must enter his processor and find it./
"Enter Megatron's processor?" She exclaimed, the idea seeming too disrespectful for words.
"Are you completely glitched?!" Cliffjumper roared, loud enough that Terabyte was certain half the ship would come running. Instead she only heard the faint grumbling of one of the Vehicons the next level up, "Shut up, Handles!"
/The Decepticon laboratory should have all the equipment you need for a cortical psychic patch./
Terabyte's optics widened marginally. Cortical psychic patches were the most painful way to retrieve data from a mind. The procedure was also incredibly more invasive than a normal sync, giving direct, total control and liberty in the other's processor.
This also meant that there was a much higher probability of one or both minds involved being fragmented beyond repair, resulting in insanity or, more commonly, termination. In essence, one could access the other processor with the exact level of ease that they have in their own. "Have you ever performed the procedure?"
/No... But I have thoroughly studied the theoretical literature./ Here the medic's glyphs stretched out in reluctant hesitation. /Invented by Decepticons, outlawed by Autobots./
"Hang on, can't we just haul Megatron through a bridge, buy ourselves some time to figure this out?" Cliffjumper asked nervously.
/Time is one thing Optimus does not have! One of you must try this! I will not allow Optimus to pass knowing that Megatron will outlive him./
The red mech shuffled his pedes slightly. "Doc, you know I'd willingly trade my life for Prime... But a mind/body split? That's just-"
"I'll do it." Terabyte whispered. Maybe, just maybe, a glimpse into her leader's mind would reveal some of the answers to her questions. More firmly, the femme repeated herself, "I'll do it."
/(Raf) Y-you will? Are you sure, Terabyte?/ Ratchet kindly relayed the youngest human's plea.
She shrugged. "Someone has to. I'm disposable; that makes me the best choice."
Cliffjumper looked at her with worried optics. "TB, you're not disposable anymore than I am. Don't do this for that reason."
She smiled sadly at the mech who seemed to have grown some form of brotherly attachment to her. He would be so devastated if he ever learned that she had abused his easily-obtained trust to forward her mission. "I want to do this, Cliff'. Nothing anyone says will change my mind."
The next half groon was spent gathering and connecting the various tools and cables necessary for the patch. At last the mess of cords and boxes were stacked back into their original positions, the only signal of their presence being a thick black cable strewn across the floor as inconspicuously as possible. Aside from its faint purple glow.
Spy and fighter sat hunched over in a small cavity in the wall, just large enough for two mechs. Cliffjumper sent the medic a short message, /Ok, Doc. We're set./
/Initiate cortical psychic patch./
Terabyte slid open the panel at the base of her neck, turning her back to Cliffjumper so that the data port beneath was accessible. Uploading a small package to the comm link, she sent it with the small note, /Sending audio-visual uplink data./
As the connection was made, Terabyte felt her frame involuntarily writhe away from the cable. Then all of a sudden, the strangest feeling swept over her as she felt her very consciousness being drained from her body. For a split second, the femme saw through two sets of optics, felt the frames of two bodies, her own tense, untrusting frame; the Lord Protector's, filled with fiery agony...
Just as quickly, the spy found herself in... Kaon? Shuddering, she saw that it was a different version than the city she once called home. It was harsher, more uniform. The streets were silent and the clouds appeared to be burning, the sky red and black. Peeking into a window she saw a family of thin, tired mechs. As soon as she was spotted, the father pulled down a steel shutter over the window. "It looks like Kaon... But definitely isn't."
As Terabyte walked along the deserted highway, she knew that those in the real world could hear and see all that she could. Unfortunately, she could not hear them.
"His mind is strongly shielded, even in this state. I can't hack it." Terabyte continued to report to seemingly no one. Unseen, her left finial gave its characteristic twitch.
The femme continued her path until she reached the Victory Square, empty and forlorn aside from two mechs. On the balcony of one building stood Megatron, battle blade drawn and gleaming. Below, in the center of the square, stood the Prime, mask raised and blades ready.
She watched the virtual reality curiously, though not completely unphased by her apparent proximity to a budding showdown between the two mechs. "Not real." She muttered in a reminder to herself.
Laughing, her leader jeered at the Prime. "Optimus, your Autobot armies are defeated. Bow before your new master!"
"Never, Megatron." Stepping forward, the Prime uttered the well-known prophecy, "One shall stand, one shall fall."
The Lord Protector laughed again, seeming to enjoy the prospect of slaughtering the Prime. "So be it."
With that, both leaders leapt at each other, running with weapons raised to come together with a resounding crash. They struggled for the upper hand for only moments before her leader sliced through the Prime, making him disintegrate; wisps of smoke quickly fading where the Prime had stood.
Suddenly Megatron stood only meters before her, though he hadn't taken a single step. Out of thin air, Optimus appeared just one step in front of her.
"Megatron, your treachery ends here." The Autobot said firmly, walking to his doom.
As she'd expected, the figment was quickly destroyed, becoming a mere vapor in the wind. Terabyte fell backwards a few steps as her leader again seemed to teleport, this time appearing bent over to meet her shocked gaze.
Megatron straightened, having recognized her. "Ah yes, the little femme with a Decepticon mind, but sickeningly Autobot spark."
She took a sharp intake. What did he mean she had an Autobot spark? There was no way she was one of those murdering-
Gesturing to the figment Autobot team approaching, he continued before her confused thoughts could fully form. "One day, the choice will come, Lieutenant Terabyte, second in command of Communications and Intelligence. The day will come when you must choose: My cause or theirs."