Duty and Deceit
Chapter 40
Ghosts of the Past
A.N. Okay, first things first, this is a pretty awesome chapter, but I do apologize for it being so very late. We just had an international move to the other side of the planet, so, understandably, I was somewhat preoccupied for the past month or so... So yeah, late update. Should be well worth the wait though.
As usual, read, review, enjoy, etc!
Red lights were flashing all over Kaon as the whole city went on high alert. Civilians in the streets below were screaming and running in a frenzy, but Decepticon officers were quickly silencing their hysteria, escorting them to the labyrinths to hide. Sirens blared too loudly for comfort, making her finials and helm ache from their incessant wailing.
The whole HQ was in lockdown and she had about half a breem to get to her post before she would be locked out. Unfortunately, since the Autobots were attacking in the middle of the night cycle, she was currently twenty-five floors away, already having climbed twelve flights of stairs. Full lockdown meant no elevators which meant there was no way in the Pits she'd get there in time. Twenty-five floors in less than five klicks just wasn't feasible.
Swinging over the corner to the next flight of steps, the small femme didn't see the jet until too late, slamming right into his back as he seemingly materialized in front of her. The force of the impact set her off-balance, her frame straining as she tried to keep herself from falling pedes over helm down the stairs.
Skyquake caught her hand just before she lost the battle against gravity, grinning at her in spite of the city-wide emergency. "You hangin' in there?"
"Grand." The two-wheeler muttered, rolling her gold optics. "Just grand. I've got three klicks to be twenty-one floors up from here. The Commander's going to off me if the Autobots don't first."
The green mech winced as they resumed their climb. "Can't help there, but I can at least keep the 'Bots off you."
The whole spire shook, nearly knocking the light-weight spy off her pedes again. Again, Skyquake caught her as the obsidian staircase swayed dangerously. Autobot shouts could be heard from the lower levels as the enemy advance broke through to the capital building. The battle here could determine the outcome of the war, and the 'Bots they would be fighting at the Decepticon HQ would be the best of their army.
Her spark pulse sped up and her battle protocols kicked into maximum, her processors already supplying her with various scenarios and resistance methods. Tactics was not - per say - her strongest suit, but she was competent enough in the field. Weapons charged, the Prussian blue and black femme ran her glossa over her denta, tossing a glance at Skyquake.
The jet nodded almost imperceptibly and they stopped running, standing their ground at the platform they'd reached. The spiral staircase gave them a clear shot at any who tried to climb up; they could cut the enemy down before they got any where close to them. Higher ground, the element of surprise, and an easily defensible position. Just the two of them could keep a significant number of the Autobots from ever reaching the more important levels.
/Makeshift. Are you with Soundwave?/ The femme commed swiftly.
/Yeah. What's the deal? Where are you? The Wave isn't happy.../
/Inform the Commander that I am unable to reach the Communications and Intelligence Department, as I am over twenty floors below and lockdown was several klicks ago./
After a couple klicks without a reply her mentor sent, /Sure... you with Flyboy then?/
/Commander Skyquake is present, sir./
She signed out and took aim, cutting down the first two Autobots to begin the ascent. The Autobots far below started hollering and shouting, gathering around the graying frames, looking around for the source of the blasts. Skyquake pitched a grenade down the spiral, covering her finials in his huge hands as it blew.
Nodding her thanks, the femme peered down into the clearing smoke, noting that while most had escaped the blast, the two grayed frames had become half a dozen. The masked two-wheeler took a calming vent, forcing her thoughts aside. They had a long, bloody orn ahead of them. She couldn't get distracted.
A scream cut through the air and a Decepticon frame flew through the door two flights below them, crashing over the banister and onto the next flight down. She and Skyquake both snapped down into battle stance, weapons at the ready as they awaited whoever and whatever might come through the door next.
Another frame flew threw, this one completely grayed and sliced in half, followed by the saboteur, Jazz and a small team of mechs. The white and black mech's Energon blue visor glowed in the dim light, making the sinister grin he wore seem only eviller. He swaggered up to them, his motions seeming to define grace. His pede-falls didn't make a sound; the silence attesting to the skill of the spy.
"How's it hangin', mechs?" Jazz asked coolly, looking them both over. "Didn't know Megs still had femme-bots 'round..." He shrugged lightly, "Most've bailed by now."
She bit back a hiss, her tone coldly inflectionless, her gun-arm twitching. "It would seem you thought wrong."
"Are the two o' ya seriously th'only line o' defense?" He asked, his grin growing wider. "Well, I s'pose ya've got th' big guy for me. I owe 'im a couple wing-turns an' a ticket to the dark side o' the Well... That'll be a nice treat, won't it?"
It seemed as though he'd hardly twitched, but the half flight of steps between him and them seemed to disappear in the bat of an optic. The mech slammed her helm against the wall as he darted past. Next thing she knew Jazz was where she'd been standing and she was tumbling down the stairs. Throwing herself down into a controlled roll, the femme looked up to find herself crouched in the center of the saboteur's team with five sets of weapons leveled on her spark.
Lost in the battle, she smirked behind her mask, ignoring the life-En that had begun to ooze from her helm. Her tone politely innocent, she gazed into their face-plates for a moment. "Hello, Autobots. Welcome to Kaon."
She sprung at one of the mechs, dodging blaster-fire and sword-point, digging her blade into his spark as she knocked him to the ground. Astroseconds later she'd torn the dagger from the graying frame, skiing between another mech's pedes, slitting his knee-joints as she passed. Jumping on the wounded mech's back, she fired her mini-cannon directly in another's face, blowing his helm across the room with a spray of fluids.
Venting harshly, the Prussian blue and black femme stood dripping life-En - both theirs and hers - glaring at the two mechs that were left, circling around her.
"Impressive." The blue and white mech drawled. Mirage, according to her database. Possessed a cloaking device. This should be fun...
The mech disappeared and she whirled around, dagger whistling through the air in a blur of gold. Backing up against the wall, the two-wheeler meanwhile fired at the other Autobot, missing as the stubby green and brown mech - Brawn - dodged, blasting back at her, grumbling all the while.
She snarled as the mech's blaster fire hit her pede and shoulder wheel in succession, knocking her to her hands and knees. Scrabbling to get back on her feet, the femme felt an arm wrap around her neck. The femme's optics widened and she let out a little gasp of surprise. Mirage materialized behind her, pulling her to her knees as he tightened his grip around her neck, crushing the vital life-lines to her processors.
"However, not quite impressive enough, femme." Mirage sneered, continuing to tighten his strong grip. She vented as much as she could with the pressure. Her engine croaked, her HUD filling with errors and warnings. The edges of her vision tinged black before shutting down. Her audial array shut down in energy preservation.
Warning: Insufficient Energon flow to processors. Stasis lock imminent. Continued Energon deprivation will result in permanent termination.
The femme kicked and yanked on the mech's arm, elbowing him in the abdomen. Struggling as much as she could, the femme let out a staticky cry of pain as her fighting only made the mech squeeze harder.
"Slag, just pass out already!" The mech snarled to her offlined audials, hitting her upside the helm roughly, sending a spike of agony through her helm as her finial snapped. She howled before slamming her vocalizer offline, along with her pain receptors.
She felt the rumble of a mech roaring. She sat in the dark silence of her own mind, the dull pressure of agony that couldn't be fully felt through her disconnected pain receptors. The obsidian floor beneath her shook. The arm around her released and she collapsed limply to the floor, making no effort to stop her fall.
She lay there venting, feeling the simultaneous relief and agony as life-En flowed again through her helm. Several more klicks passed and she felt her audials click back on with a harsh internal screech of feedback before the world exploded with crashing metal, weapon's-fire, shouting, and grunting.
Her optics came online in a flash of white along with her pain receptors as her whole system rebooted. As soon as her vision came to her she was greeted with the grayed helm of an unknown Autobot at the same time as the agony registered.
Forgetting about her mask completely, the femme purged her tanks, gasping in shock as her face-plates were drenched in the contents of her own tanks. The Energon dripped over and around the mask, rolling down her neck. She let down the mask, allowing it to empty before purging some more.
Swiping her hand across her face, the spy snapped the mask back up and wobbled to her feet, her equilibrium thrown into chaos by the snapped finial. She pulled up her gun-arm and shot Mirage off of Skyquake's back, sending him falling down at least a dozen flights of stairs. The femme vented harshly, wiping more regurgitated Energon off her chin.
"Tera! Are you alright?" Skyquake roared into her still-ringing audials.
"Grand." She muttered rubbing the life-En off her finials. "What happened to Jazz?"
The mech shrugged, letting off a round of cybertanium bullets towards the climbing mechs, forcing them back into hiding. "Dunno... Pitched 'im over the edge."
Yet another team of Autobots burst into the room, some from above, some from below, and some pouring in from their level, blasting away. She backed up and braced her back against his, firing rapidly. Skyquake grinned down at her before mowing down the first line of mechs.
She smiled back at him from behind her mask, trusting the mech to watch her back. "Commence round two."
The femme took a deep vent as the flashback melted away. Ratchet was trying so hard not to lose his cool with her, but she could still feel the daggers of his agitated mind piercing through her. She remained perfectly submissive to his scanning, just like the first one.
It was painfully obvious that her memories angered him. After all, he was the one who had to catalog every grayed frame their victories had left behind, the one who had to try to put all those mechs back together when they broke.
Her second session was going much better than the first had though, for which both mechs were glad. Also, her insignia had been switched back to that of an Autobot, however she had refused the medic's offers to renew her previous color scheme and gold bio-lights. She needed to have that constant reminder of what she could become so that she could prevent it from ever happening again.
It was not your choice, Terabyte. Ratchet sighed, trying to assuage the guilt he could feel her suffering.
The hate was mine. It was already there, all they did was alter a few minor details to bring it out.
He scanned through several more portions of her mind in silence, taking care to not comment on some of her more personal memories that he occasionally ran into. It was inevitable that he would discover them, whether he wanted to or not. Truth be told, the medic could very well end up knowing her better than she did by the time she earned their trust back. If that was even possible.
Terabyte, Optimus never lost faith in you, and neither did Cliffjumper.
Shaking her helm gently, the black and midnight two-wheeler put a mental hand on his shoulder. A sad smile worked its way onto her futilely masked face. And you nearly lost a team mate because of it. You were right to have lost faith in me, Ratchet. You and everyone else. If you hadn't lost faith in me, I wouldn't be here today. For that I am grateful.
She could tell that her words - meant as an encouragement - had hurt. Ratchet huffed, pulling out of her systems and disconnecting from the hub, leaving her mind in blessed solitude again. Slipping a pain chip into her wrist, the medic moved on to tidying up his desk and pulling out another project.
"You're good to go. Decepticon thought-patterns are at 0%, yada, yada; go find someone else to mope around with."
Simply raising an optic ridge at the medic's brusque manner, Terabyte left the bay, passing Raf as she went. "Hello, Raf."
"Hey, TB!" The spiky-haired boy greeted cheerfully, pushing up the red glasses on his face. "What's Ratchet up to?"
She shrugged lightly. "Why don't you ask him?"
Terabyte headed towards the tactical bay with swift pede-falls, wincing as her helm throbbed painfully. She had just finished deducing the final set of coordinates for the sleepers in Antarctica and Africa - these last few orns had kept her busy with the humans working double time to make her feel welcome. She sent a brief comm. to Arcee and Skyquake to have them meet her there.
"No-rank Skyquake reporting for duty as requested, sir!" The jet barked out, saluting Terabyte smartly, a mischievous twinkle in his ruby optics.
Arcee followed in shortly after him, nodding politely in the two-wheeler's direction before leaning up against the wall and crossing her arms. "So what's the deal? Have you got more coordinates ready, or did you just want to ridicule the fact that we haven't?"
Cocking an optic ridge at the warrior femme's sour mood, Terabyte made note to proceed with caution. "Skyquake, report."
His optics went dim for several klicks before he muttered something about excessively complicated algorithms finally being out of the way. "As of... about two nanoseconds ago... I completed the task given. It appears to be in the middle of the ocean... At approximately -36.9334 degrees south by 128.8476 degrees east... Which would be off the southern coast of Australia."
She nodded swiftly, cross-referencing his solution with her own. Mostly she'd only let them help to make them feel better, doing their assigned calculations as well as her own. The two sets of coordinates matched. "Good. Any guesses as to whom it may contain?"
"Nope." Skyquake gave her a look that said, 'Seriously? I'm just glad I got that much'.
"Arcee?" Terabyte asked tentatively, mentally readying herself for the femme's fury, noticing with a glimmer of hope that the femme's optics had been dimmed the whole time.
The femme didn't say a word, simply sending her a cryptic comm. with a set of coordinates in Tokyo. She nodded to the simmering femme and activated the holo-map, putting in the new coordinates given by Arcee and Skyquake, as well as the other two that she had solved.
"Okay, we now have every continent with an approximate set of coordinates. As far as who may be inside those stasis pods... Unknown." Terabyte said distractedly, taking a mental image of the map before closing it down. She looked at Arcee pointedly. "We need to inform the Prime."
"I'll let you handle it... Lieutenant." The femme replied just as pointedly, shocking both defectors by her respectful address.
Just as she opened a comm. channel to the Prime, he commed in, /Autobots, report to the bridge room and be prepared to move out./
Next Day
"Hmm..." He shifted the canister around in his hands, examining the odd, lime green solution he'd spent the past two orns concocting.
He wasn't sure what exactly he'd been expecting, but it definitely was an odd color for Energon, synthetic or otherwise. So far, he was pretty pleased with it, all things considered. Here he was, tilting and swirling a potentially violently-explosive substance and he was still around to do so. This was very positive.
The formula for the synthetic Energon was so far out of his depth... He was a field medic, not a biochemist.
"Surprisingly stable." Ratchet muttered, shaking it again.
"Is that synthetic Energon?" A voice peeped from the ground, startling the old bot slightly. He looked down to see Raf scrambling to the top of the table with surprising agility.
All of the humans' fitness levels had risen dramatically in the year that they had known the Autobots; their muscles were growing stronger, their motions growing faster and more graceful. It was saddening how mature they were becoming in the short year as well. This wasn't even their war, but it's effects were still plainly seen.
Ms. Darby had pointed that out to him, forcing him to acknowledge what he had been trying to ignore. Their war was changing these children: for better or for worse was yet to be seen. And try as he might, he couldn't protect them from everything. He wouldn't be able to throw them back together like he could a Cybertronian if they were injured...
"Ratchet?"
"Oh, well, yes..." The red and white medic muttered, shaking the troubled thoughts aside. Pushing the canister into his syringe, he continued, "In fact, I was just about to test this sample."
Raf didn't even say anything. He just pushed his glasses up on his face, gazing up at him with the eagerness of a true lover of science gleaming in his large round eyes.
"I see you've come equipped with safety goggles..." Ratchet said with what he would refuse to classify as a smile resting on his lip-plates. No, he wasn't the least bit attached to these fleshy organic creatures. Not in the slightest.
Which is why the completely non-existent smile didn't grow at all wider when the boy exclaimed, quivering with restrained excitement, "I can watch?"
Ratchet laughed lightly at the boy's enthusiasm before he caught himself doing so with a disgruntled huff, thumping a large truck engine onto the table and prepping the synthetic Energon.
"Just add some of this to the engine..." He injected the Energon into the engine's fuel tank, watching intently as the engine thrummed to life, running smoother than ever.
"It works!" Raf cheered, jumping up, and punching the air with one fist, clutching his laptop in the other. Turning towards the entertainment center, he hollered, "Bee!"
"Aht-ut-ut!" He interrupted, silencing the eager youngling quickly, "This iteration of the formula requires further testing before we can even think about using it for fuel, ammunition, or first aid... which is rather unfortunate, since our own reserves are at an all time low... With two extra bots to fuel - one of whom happens to be a walking pit when it comes to fuel..."
He trailed off before he could get himself worked up into a fine rage. Optimus had no reason to trust these defectors, and while Terabyte seemed loyal enough, she'd also proven to be easily manipulated. And Skyquake... Ratchet scowled, shaking his helm firmly. The mech had no loyalties to anyone save perhaps Terabyte. A mech with no firm loyalties was the last thing this team needed, especially when said mech was consuming fuel that would be better off going to mechs that actually cared.
"Our severely outnumbered warriors have been rapidly burning through are stock-piles of late, as the Decepticons continue to run us ragged and grind us down." He sighed, running a hand over his face in exhaustion and stress. Going through inventory with Cliffjumper and Skyquake certainly hadn't helped his mood any. "Natural Energon reserves are so scarce on your planet, and Megatron seems to have his oily claws buried deep in every vein..."
"But, if we can successfully manufacture a synthetic form, we could easily acquire enough energy to win the war." Terabyte cut in, examining a jar of the solution curiously, her expression unreadable behind her ever-present mask. "This solution appears to be fairly stable... When will it be ready for Cybertronian consumption?"
Ratchet's helm jerked up to regard her with curiosity. "Unknown... Perhaps with your aid, much sooner than later?"
"I did partake in some extracurricular studies in the fields of chemistry and biochemistry..." The stiff femme said quietly, trailing off thoughtfully. "I may be able to assist you, however, what I came to inform you was that Arcee, Skyquake, and I have successfully triangulated the coordinates of the remaining sleepers."
The medic nodded slowly, trying to work out why she was telling him, not Prime. He was about to ask her as much, but a data transfer signaled in his helm, running a strip of coordinates on his HUD. The package was put together more tidily than he'd received in a decavorn... since Skyquake offed Prowl...
He growled, shaking his helm and scowling harshly. He wouldn't go there. In the words of Optimus, he could not allow the wrongs of the past to cloud his present judgement.
The formulas she would have had to use to come up with such precise coordinates... and the fact that Arcee and Skyquake were able to even comprehend the calculations, much less assist in them. Surely these coordinates couldn't be right.
"Terabyte, how did you come to these solutions?"
Another data transfer pinged in before he'd even finished asking. Cocking an optic ridge, Ratchet opened the package and his mouth just fell agape at the complex string of pure, hard mathematics that was streaming down his HUD. Portions of it were incomprehensible even to him. He rebooted his optics and gaped at the tiny, dark-colored two-wheeler.
She simply watched him expectantly, like a youngling awaiting approval. His mouth opened and shut like a dying electro-fish for several more moments before he finally shook his helm in awe. "You're waiting for me to approve of this?! I don't even know where to begin!"
Ratchet's optics widened further as the young femme - now known to be far younger than anyone could have guessed - seemed to wilt slightly, though her poise remained flawlessly stiff and formal. She looked down, her voice almost perfectly free of inflection, "I apologize if my means of arriving at the given solutions were unsatisfactory. I realize that many portions of the formula were redundant; however, the solutions should still be accurate. If you wish to double-check my calculations-"
"No!" He blurted out, interrupting the femme's somewhat-rambling apology. He realized as soon as he'd said it, that his tone had been far harsher than he'd intended.
Raf jumped back slightly, hugging his laptop to his chest as he watched them with wide eyes. Terabyte's vocalizer slammed offline with a hiss of static, her armor retracting fractionally as she took a small step backwards. Her expression continued to grow more and more confused.
"My apologies, medic. I did not mean to offend you by my clearly inferior calculations, forgive me." She said tightly, giving him a slight bow as she continued to back towards the door.
Scrap. That's all that came of his marvelous social skills. Every kind thing he thought of always came out in a botched up wreck of hurt feelings and frightened younglings. Why couldn't Optimus' tact have rubbed off on him over all the vorns?
Slamming the empty syringe on the table, Ratchet stomped over to her, angry at himself for being such an old, uncultured fool.
"Now see here, young lady," The way she cringed away from him left a sick feeling in the bottom of his tanks, making his voice soften more than he'd let it for a long time. "You are a brilliant little femme, Terabyte, and if anyone tries to say otherwise, so help me I'll reconfigure them into a garbage disposal."
"But you said-"
"I said I don't even know where to begin!" He said exasperatedly, only halfway succeeding in keeping his voice down. "And I don't. There are parts of your formula that are so far out of my league I can't even guess what they are! How in the galaxy did Arcee and Skyquake help you?"
The little femme's tightened armor flared back out, just a bit too much - as per usual. Moments later he received a concise databurst, initially seeming to mirror the one she'd sent klicks ago. At the bottom of the formula, she'd tacked on a brief, but incredibly detailed set of instructions explaining exactly how to successfully use the formula.
Giving a tiny, almost unnoticeable shrug, Terabyte said simply, "Instructions."
Ratchet snorted in disbelief at how little the femme realized her own abilities. No wonder she'd risen so rapidly through Decepticon ranks. One simply didn't get to be second in command of a whole department three vorns into adulthood unless they were downright genius.
Swiping a hand over his faceplates, the medic sighed deeply, studying the Protihexian femme as she awaited his response. He wasn't a huge bot, but she only came to just below his shoulders. So young too. The physical repercussions of having been upgraded so early... The strain it would have placed on her spark... It hurt him just to think about it. Too many innocent people had been drug into this War; few had actually wanted to join the war, even among Decepticons.
Optimus filed the report he'd just read and left his office with a stern expression on his face. Quartexly report days were never particularly enjoyable, especially given the events of the past quartex. Many of the reports during Terabyte's bout with the Decepticons were bordering on mutinous, while those of Skyquake and Cliffjumper were very plainly so.
Team morale this quartex was even lower than their Energon reserves.
Entering the medical bay to confide in his long-time friend, Prime found the medic standing with one hand on his hip and the other on his chin, thoughtfully watching Terabyte. The femme simply stood to attention, mask raised and armor flared, though she gave a deep bow when he caught her optics - now shining the color of human blood.
"Ratchet..." The scarlet and blue mech began cautiously, unsure of what he may or may not have just walked in on, "Report."
The medic just waved the order off to Terabyte, surprising the Prime further by the obvious growth of respect in the medic towards the femme.
She bowed again, "Skyquake, Arcee, and I have triangulated the coordinates of the remaining Decepticon sleepers, located in Asia, Africa, Antarctica, Australia, and South America." As she spoke, the Prime received a succinct transmission from her containing the coordinates. "As a result of this, I would advise immediate investigation, sir."
"More Energon on the move." Arcee called from the bridge room, interrupting the praise Optimus was about to give the black and midnight blue femme.
Instead, he gave her an acknowledging nod and made his way to the planet-wide monitoring terminal, closely followed by Terabyte and Ratchet. He leaned closer to the terminal, observing the Energon movements his second in command had pointed out. Beside him Cliffjumper moaned, "Again? I still ache from the beating we got yesterday..."
There was a muted crash as Skyquake hit the mech upside the helm, earning him a burning glare and growl from Arcee. The jet snarled, "As do we all, Autobot. Whining like a bruised sparkling will help nothing."
"Cliff's right." Bumblebee whirred despondently, "We don't have enough fuel to even repair ourselves, much less fight Vehicon armies day in, day out."
Bulkhead growled, "Well we sure can't just let 'em take off without a fight!"
"We need more Energon, and this is the only way we'll get it. We don't even have enough to mine our own, even if we did, the Con's have their slimy claws in all of Earth's resources." Arcee hissed in frustration.
"Their recent activity suggests a familiar pattern." The Prime interrupted his team's debating. "They are desperately scouting for new deposits to mine." He looked over them all with weary optics. "Autobots-"
Ratchet cut him off gravely, "Optimus... if one of you comes back wounded... well, our reserves are nearly depleted."
He nodded slowly, acknowledging his old friend's concerns. "Understood. Activate the ground bridge." Looking back to the team, Optimus took in a deep vent, "Autobots, roll out!"
She sped down the green and purple corridor, closely following the other Autobots. Skidding to a halt on the other side of the portal, Terabyte scanned their surroundings carefully, taking note of the coordinates.
Transforming, the little femme walked up to the Prime with her helm tucked down respectfully. "Sir, permission to speak."
He seemed to regard her curiously for a moment before he nodded; apparently deciding that reprimanding her formalities was a futile effort. "Granted."
She bowed slightly again. "It is my observation that we are in Antarctica. We also have quite a large group of warriors, considering that our only mission is to investigate a most probably minor Decepticon scouting patrol. The coordinates we have calculated to be approximately the location of the Antarctica sleeper appear to be-"
Arcee, who had walked up with her, cut her off with a wave of her hand. "She wants to split up and check out the sleeper region."
Terabyte shot a sharp glare in the other femme's direction before turning her gaze to glare at her own black, pointed feet. Her fuel tanks groaned quietly, her HUD popping up with a warning declaring her fuel levels to be at 17%. She grimaced behind her mask. That would make for an enjoyable battle...
"Your point is a valid one, Terabyte." The Prime acknowledged, "Take Cliffjumper and Bumblebee to investigate the sleeper. Arcee, Bulkhead, and I will continue with the primary mission."
The red mech huffed gently then hummed in acknowledgement. Bulkhead, however, growled deeply from his engine. "You can't put the defector in charge. She's already betrayed us once; we can't trust a back-stabbing Con."
"She wasn't in control of that..." Bumblebee bleeped with a light scowl.
"I don't care!" The large ex-Wrecker roared, slamming his wrecking ball into his hand with an echoing crash. "Whether she meant to or not, Terabyte has proven that she's easily manipulated."
The black and midnight femme's engine rumbled lowly at the Wrecker's accusations, her guilt bubbling back up in full force. Bowing her helm in respect to the angry Wrecker, Terabyte spoke quietly, keeping her voice free of inflection, "The Wrecker is correct... I am a liability to your team, Lord Prime, and as such I do not feel that placing such a liability in a position of leadership would be advisable at this time."
Bulkhead huffed in agreement, crossing his arms with a smug expression on his faceplates, earning him scowls from Bumblebee and Cliffjumper.
Optimus' optic ridges pulled together in a disapproving frown, the characteristic double EM field - one of the Prime himself, one of the Matrix - pulsing in an undecipherable emotion. His tone was sterner than she'd ever heard before, "My decisions are not up for debate. Terabyte will lead the expedition. I do not wish for the matter of Terabyte's loyalty to be questioned again, not even by the lieutenant herself. Have I made myself clear?"
"Yes sir." The team chorused soberly.
An hour and a half later.
Deep blue, clear ice glittered around them in solid walls. Perfectly formed stalactites hung from the ceilings of the glacial caves in which they were travelling. The incessant drip of slow melts echoed in the silent, majestic icy caverns. The cavern they'd just entered appeared to be a dead end, sparkling in a wet, icy mess of disappointingly not the sleeper unit they were hoping for.
She raised her right forearm yet again, checking the scanner's readings, pursing her masked lip-plates in annoyance.
"So what's the update, TB?" Cliffjumper asked, his flippant tone for some reason grating on her nerves just then. Most likely, it was due to her critically low fuel levels.
As if on cue, her HUD flashed yet another warning. Warning: Fuel levels at 13%. Immediate refueling advised.
"The 'update' has not changed since a breem ago when you asked previously." Terabyte snapped, growling as yet another drip of icy liquid splashed between her armor plates. "From this point on, do not ask me again. If and when there is a change of events, I will be sure to inform you, understood?"
The red mech saluted sharply, making a zipping motion over his lip-plates.
"Relax, lieutenant, it's just a scouting mission." Bumblebee beeped in concerned confusion.
Terabyte's optic ridges pressed together into a worried scowl, which stayed hidden since she was taking point. Running her glossa over her denta in a nervous habit she'd picked up over the vorns, the femme stifled a heavy sigh, allowing her over-tightened struts to relax imperceptibly.
For a brief moment, she considered voicing the reason for her heightened stress levels, but finally the two-wheeler simply shook her helm and continued to explore the canyon-like cavern floor in silence. All of her battle protocols and proximity sensors were boosted to maximum and every now and then the slightly jumpy femme whirled around in a full circle in an occasional reassurance to herself.
However, the yellow scout was not about to let it slide. After several breems determined that she wasn't going to reply, he spoke out again, "Seriously, I've never seen you so stessed, Terabyte. What's your deal? We've been at this for awhile, we can handle a little Con-hunt."
"A simple scouting mission, you say." She sighed aloud this time, her black finials flicking back in annoyance as she snuck around a stalagmite with her cannon charged only to find it as empty as the last. "The last time Iled a simple scouting mission, I led mechs I'd come to view as family to their deaths."
She could still see the fear in Darkshine's pale red optics, the desperation mirrored in Shadowlight's as Terabyte physically dragged her from her twin's dying frame. And now she recalled the look in the Prime's optics for what it truly was: the deep sorrow of a mech who had had to make that same decision that had left her friends dead or mentally disabled.
The Prime had let them go that day. He let them go because he understood.
Terabyte's troubled thoughts were interrupted when she noticed a small crevice in the icy wall beside her. According to her scans, there was a decent sized cavern on the other side, but neither Cliffjumper nor Bumblebee would fit through the gap. She, however, would.
"Cliffjumper, Bumblebee, stand guard here." The black and midnight blue two-wheeler ordered, already starting to squeeze herself through the gap in the ice, flattening her armor tightly to her frame to fit. "I'm going to investigate the cavern on the other side. If I do not return in a groon, return to Optimus." She raised a servo to the red warrior's instant objections, silencing him quickly, "That is an order, soldier, and it isn't up for debate."
With a slight grunt, the small femme pushed herself the rest of the way through, wincing at the harsh screech of metal as the jagged ice scratched into her chest-plates. Once on the other side, she charged up her mini-cannon and extended her dagger, repressing a growl as the whole cavern glowed red.
She looked around carefully, crouching down to a ready position and flaring her armor back to its usual position. Her deep ruby bio-lights dimmed as she entered stealth mode. Determining the area to be safe enough, Terabyte rose and silent as a ghost, began her exploration of the small, dead-end cavern.
Hardly a klick later, a bright glint of gold - bringing the instant thought of her own optics, soon replaced with recollection of the fact that her optics now shone scarlet - made the femme swing around to level her cannon on the source. A sealed cybertanium door, air-locked, with a clear window at the top revealing the silhouette of a mech's helm.
Rubbing a hand over the window, the femme stared at the dim, unshining golden optics on a face-plate hidden behind a silver mask. The white helm's design was unlike any she'd seen, except possibly in pictures of the Golden Age Cybertronians. The mech appeared to be an exceptionally large, white jet, accented with scarlet strips.
So far as she could see, the mech lacked any distinguishingly Decepticon or Autobot traits, seeming by all appearances - aside from the pointed, purple Decepticon insignia on his cockpit - to be a neutral.
She shrugged gently, smiling behind her midnight blue mask, muttering under her breath, "Must've caught the light of my optics just right."
Two servos lifted to touch the base of her right finial gently as she opened the comm link. /Cliff? Bee? It's all clear, see if you can widen the gap enough to get through. The sleeper is well and truly still asle-/
She trailed off, listening intently in the near-deafening silence.
/Short Stuff? What's up?/
A high-pitched, hissing squeal pierced the cold air, making the femme pause and glance around suspiciously. Last time she heard that kind of hissing, it resulted in her whole city burning. /It would seem the ghosts of the past are determined to haunt me this orn... I'll get back to you. Terabyte out./
Gentle misty fog began to puff up around the half-way buried stasis pod, but it dissipated quickly and soon the hissing came to an abrupt stop. Silence fell in the cavern, aside from a slow, steady drip from some melting stalactite.
She sighed softly, shaking her helm with another wry smile. /All is well. The sleeper sleeps. I just need a good, long defrag. I will meet you to assess the situation momentarily./
Staring back into those dim, gold optics, Terabyte ran a curious servo along the edge of the stasis pod door.
See? She thought to herself, Nothing to worry about. Just a simple scouting mission: no ambush, no dying, no catastrophe - just a drippy cave with a sleeping-
The gold optics flashed online, nearly blinding her wide, unprepared optics. At that exact moment a frozen hand the size of her helm clamped down on her arm with a tiny sizzle.
She screamed.
Trying to yank her arm away from the rising warrior, Terabyte shrieked even louder, slicing her dagger through the air, trying to detach her attacker. Instead, she only sliced the door off its hinges, allowing the massive white jet to fall forwards towards her with those piercingly bright yellow optics locked on her own.
Cliffjumper and Bumblebee were yelling at her both through the comms and with their voices, echoing through the glacier system, making the mech grasping her arm hiss.
Tripping over a stalagmite, Terabyte narrowly avoided being impaled by another one as the two Cybertronians fell to the ground with a resounding crash. She took in several deep, steadying breaths as she forced herself to calm down, feeling her spark racing.
The white mech's grip never faltered, and she was pinned between his arm and the wall. The mech lay in a crumpled heap beside her, his wing and arm preventing her from moving. Whoever he was, he was huge, bigger even than Skyquake, Megatron, or the Prime. Probably about Blitzwing-sized.
"Who arrrkkkzzzzt- are... you?" The jet forced out through static-filled vocalizers.
She squirmed and shoved against the mech's arm, but it seemed to be completely immobile. Something must have malfunctioned in the waking process, slowing the onlining of several of his systems, including motor functions.
"I am Lieutenant Terabyte of Autobot Outpost Omega 1." The little femme answered crisply, reverting easily to the Cybertronian language, though this mech's words were somewhat strange to her. Like those in the old datapads in the Archives. "State your name, rank, and intent."
"Jetfire, scientist... I am here to guard the Energon resources of this planet until such time as the Cybertronian people require it." The white jet replied with an air of pride. Parts of his frame were beginning to regain mobility, twitching spasmodically.
Cocking an optic at the way he referred not to any faction, but to the Cybertronians as a whole, Terabyte finally shoved herself out from under the mech, at about the same time as he was able to raise himself to an upright position. Ice cracked in the cavern's roof as he tried to stand, only to find himself too large for the cavern.
/Cliffjumper, Bumblebee! Enough!/ Terabyte groaned as her helm began to ache from the two Autobot mechs' frantic shouting; comm-link and vocal. /I am fine. The Decepticon is awake, but as of yet poses no apparent threat./
/So the guy's so docile that you screamed like you just found a nest of Spark-eaters?/ Cliffjumper replied, his messy glyphs oozing with skepticism.
/I do believe that should I at some point find a nest of Spark-eaters, your comparison will be proven quite flawed./ She sent back stiffly, the level of concern brought by her leading role not allowing for humor. /What is your ETA?/
/C'mon, Terabyte, loosen up: you said it yourself, there's no threat./ Bumblebee practically pleaded, adding as a sidenote, /ETA, half a breem./
/Advice noted. Lieutenant Terabyte out./
She looked over at the white shuttle-jet crouching in the cramped cavern, intently studying a dirty chunk of ice with a pleased expression on his focused face-plates. "Fascinating! This planet never ceases to amaze me... When first I arrived on this planet nearly five decavorns ago, this region was incredibly different!"
Five decavorns? The War was still a relatively new thing at that point... the Age of Rust having just passed... Optimus had only just received the Matrix after purging Vector Sigma of the virus-like Dark Energon that Megatron was rumored to have discovered and planted in the planet's core. This mech would have no idea how far the War had gone... How far the Cybertronian people had allowed themselves to fall...
Still baffled by that progression of thought, Terabyte spoke slowly, "Your stasis pod appears to have malfunctioned from long-time exposure to the harsh climate of the area... You say this is your first time to wake on this planet since the beginning of your mission decavorns ago?"
"Yes, yes, it does appear to have mistimed my awakening... Might I ask how Cybertron has progressed? Has the great Megatronus yet brought on a new Golden Age?" Jetfire asked distractedly, now poking around at the open stasis pod's frozen internals.
Dusting an accumulated layer of frost from her finials, the femme checked her chronometer. The rest of her team would be in in approximately one more klick. "Jetfire..." She didn't have the spark to just come out with the truth. Perhaps given time, and one more eloquent than herself to break it to him. "Much has happened in your sleep. Shall we discuss the matter in further detail at our base?"
Cliffjumper and Bumblebee barged in just then with weapons charged and ready to fire, their frames heated from the exertion it took to break their way in. The red mech slammed two matching plasma blasters into the white mech's chest, scorching the pristine paint and the etched Decepticon insignia. "Hands on your helm, Decepticon! Now!"
"You may speak an odd dialect, but your intentions are clear." Jetfire looked over at her with betrayal glowing in his golden optics. "These mechs are your friends? You failed to mention that you were sent by the Council..."
"Jetfire, please, do not jump to conclusions, my friends' actions are rash. We mean you no harm." The midnight navy and black femme glared at the two mechs whose weapons were still charged, noting the way the whole cavern shone red from her brightened bio-lights. Bumblebee subspaced his blasters with an acknowledging buzz, but Cliffjumper didn't budge.
Sent by the Council? She shook her helm slightly. They could worry about taking history lessons later. For right now, she had more important things to deal with.
"Cliff? Please cooperate." She asked gently, but firmly enough for it to be clear that she meant it.
The red warrior jiggled the blaster against the white mech's chest in a playful manner. "Respectfully, and all, the guy'sa Con. You can't just ask him over for tea when he decides not to bother murdering you for a few breems."
"Cliffjumper..." She warned, taking a step forward, her tone growing darker as she raised her mini-cannon to his spark.
Warning: Fuel levels critical. 7% remaining. Insufficient fuel for weapons' fire. Immediate refueling advised. Stasis lock imminent.
Her finials flicked at the hardly audible whirr of another set of blasters starting up, the crawling feeling on her flared armor alerting her to the fact that Bumblebee now had his weapons trained on her. Of course, the scout had very little reason to trust her judgement at this point, but she knew what she was doing.
Shoot Cliffjumper? No, she wasn't going to shoot him, that would be absurd and pointless, not to mention that being on half rations, she didn't have the energy to. But they couldn't afford to let another mech join the Decepticons' ever-growing ranks, and the red warrior was going to make that practically inevitable if he didn't stand down.
"That was a friendly request. This is not. Stand down now, or preventative action will be taken."
"Lieutenant!" Bumblebee shrilled in shocked indignation, "What in the galaxy do you think you're doing? Threatening to shoot your subordinates to defend a Con?"
Not taking her optics off Cliffjumper for an astrosecond, Terabyte's scarlet optics shone with worried determination. If this didn't work... she cut herself off with a shake of her helm. She'd worry about that when and if the occasion arrived. Speaking to both of them, the two-wheeler shifted her charged cannon slightly. "Trust me on this. Please... Just, trust me."
"Says the femme with a fusion cannon levelled on my spark: the same femme who blew my leg off last time she pointed a gun at me. Sure, I trust you." Cliffjumper snarled, "I trust you to keep betraying us, no matter how many times I put my spark on the line for you, you'll just keep blowing your chances."
She blinked, gun-arm dropping as if dead. And she blinked again. Just to see if she was somehow missing something. Her mask fell and her armor collapsed against her frame as she took a shocked step away from Cliffjumper, her deep red optics wide. Her mouth opened and closed several times to voice her objections, but all her vocalizers could come up with was a harsh static.
As coolant began to pool in her optics, Terabyte shut the systems down stubbornly, slamming her mask back into place, flaring her armor out just past relaxed - as usual. No time for sentiment. Straightening, the two-wheeler rolled her shoulder wheels in the only sign of the inward turmoil the red mech's words had just caused.
Of all the people to say such things - things that she knew they were all thinking - she'd never expected Cliffjumper to be the one to voice them so painfully. Of course they had no reason to trust her. She was a defector. A defector who had already betrayed them multiple times and she wasn't even a year in. At this point, there was an 97% chance that she would never gain their trust. Not completely.
Clearing her vents, Terabyte pulled her shattered thoughts back together. They still had a mission to complete. She could deal with how she felt later. "I- Your point is valid, Cliffjumper, and duly noted. For the time being however, my order remains. Stand down..." Glancing at Jetfire, then at Cliffjumper, she switched back to English, her tone revealing only a tiny portion of her pain, "Please? You don't need to trust me... Just trust the numbers. We're already outnumbered... we can't afford to miss this opportunity."
To her immense relief, the mech lowered his weapons slowly, his blasters transforming back into his hands. Stepping away from the huge white jet, Cliffjumper grinned widely at her, as though nothing had happened. As though he hadn't just crushed every ounce of hope she'd built up since they rescued her.
Jetfire cleared his vents loudly to gain all their attention, "Now that that's dealt with... Shall we?"