Chapter 29

-0-Med Bay before first shift

Ratchet felt a movement as an alert timer in his processor went off pulling him from an uncomfortable recharge almost faster than his hardware would allow. He sat up immediately, swatting at his face as if shooing flies. Then he stood swiftly to stared around in frightened disarray in his confusion before glancing down at Ironhide. Every part of his body was stiff and sore, his helm ached and he was exhausted. But he had felt a movement.

Actually, that wasn't true.

The internal alert timer he set was synced with the equipment monitoring Ironhide and the moment the big mech reached 85% or above on the spark monitor a series of alarms were tripped, messages sent, wires crossed, hot air balloons launched and the 'bestest yellow-aft mech in the entire fraggin' galaxy' was awake (relatively), alert (debatably) and focused entirely (indubitably) on the mech lying on the berth. Ratchet watched and waited as the movement registered prior was internal from Ironhide rather than external. But the wakening would come. Ratchet knew from a lifetime of work that if they got this far they stayed.

Then. It. Happened.

"Hey."

Ratchet stared at Ironhide's blue optics, his wretchedness falling away as that single syllable delivered in a mud colored voice retrieved his spark from the Pit where it had been circling at high speed for joors. He stepped forward quietly, as if to make a sound would shatter his delicate tenuous grasp of reality, then leaned down to stare intently. Ironhide had moved and he spoke. A servo moved, an arm flexed as Ratchet took Ironhide's hand, gripping it gently as he gazed into his optics. "Hey," Ratchet replied. "You planning on recharging all day?"

"Most likely," Ironhide said tiredly.

"Poor example of a Chaos Bringer for the younglings."

He grinned slightly, his optical shine drooping from fatigue. "I saw you."

"You did?" Ratchet asked, content to talk to him about anything including the odd disjointed remark.

"I saw you welding the chamber back together," he whispered.

Ratchet stared at him considering his remarks and a lifetime of hearing such things a time or two from mechs brought back from the edge of no return. "What did you see?" Ratchet said kissing Ironhide's servo.

"I saw you suffer," Ironhide said. "I was standing beside you the whole time." With that, he off-lined his optics and slipped back into recharge again.

Ratchet checked the dials, noting 92% already on the monitor. He considered Ironhide and his remarks, his quiet expression in recharge, then he gently lay the big mech's arm down. Leaning down, kissing him gently on the lips he walked slowly to his office. He shut the door, sat down wearily in his chair, then folded his arms and wept.

-0-At the offices of the Autobot-N.E.S.T Strike Force

Will Lennox got off the phone from friends he knew in the armies of other countries who had served in areas that Intel-Martin had worked, a couple who were in the State Department and a guy he knew in Pittsburgh who could get you anything/anyone/anywhere for the right price. All of them agreed.

They were fucked.

He sat back and threw a pencil on his desk as he put his feet up. He considered their problem. Niall had the same luck calling the UK and a friend he had in the Foreign Legion. Epps who had contacts in the private army business having received recruiting offers from any number including Intel-Martin searched and found out that the story they were piecing together probably spelled one thing: There was going to be The Incident they all dreaded because, first of all, they had no control over these guys. This group of slaggers were overpaid losers and sometimes criminals had ZERO respect for the regular military and they were here for a reason that no one could figure it out.

They could themselves but it was purely speculation.

Niall sighed and sat back, flexing his shoulder in tension. "I want to know what a bureaucrat needs with nine, count them nine armed men. It doesn't make sense."

"Maybe they feel they need to arm after Sunstreaker," Epps said. "I heard somewhere that Johnson and Hedges are making waves. Appears they were involved or at least their families were with militias."

"Homegrown frat boys with guns and beat up pickup trucks?" Will asked with a grin. "I grew up with the type … ultra macho and full of shit. Compare our rides with theirs, weekend warriors. 'Don't tread on me' bullshitters." He sighed as he leaned forward. "We need to bring this up with Optimus at the weekly. And we need to keep our eyes peeled. They might trigger a shooting."

"The pop guns I've seen won't hurt the Autobots but the hardware the bots have? We won't find a stain if they provoke a shooting and it will be provoked. All these years with no incidents and if one happens now it's provoked. Are we all in agreement?" Epps asked, his pointed look passing from one to the other.

They grinned.

"Hell yeah! Hoo-ah," Lennox said with a grin.

"What he said," Niall replied with a chuckle.

Epps leaned back in his chair. "Daniels has some kind of plan here and his connections with his family and their money makes him highly dangerous. We forget that at our own peril."

"There's always an 'accident' at the beach. Though … I've yet to see Daniels outside of a suit. I imagine he swims and takes a bath in a three piece," Niall said with a grin. "He's very British upper class that way."

"He wishes," Lennox said with a grin. "Come on. Let's see if they have attitude at lunch."

The three stood up and walked to the door, exiting into the heat and sunlight of another bright day on Diego Garcia. There were crowds everywhere, some of them doing jobs or going to and from them. But most were watching the Embassy and the Autobots. Some of them were sunning themselves, absorbing solar energy but mostly, they were there to be admired.

They were.

Crowds stood around them, the more adventurous leaning in to chat. The bots allowed it because they were mostly friendly, some were working to learn about humans and they liked the praise of their amazing formats.

Any number of them felt the ego buzz of being admired.

The stroll to the mess hall was made through crowds of sailors, marines, civilians, air force personnel and soldiers. This was a fully functioning base on the front lines of defense so it was busy and active on both land, air and sea. They entered the big building which was filling up with those who were here to partake in lunch. They could have gone to the officer's club but for Epps and solidarity was their code.

Picking up a tray, they joined the line. Sitting nearby were half the mercs while the others were in front of the line making their way forward.

Lennox watched them, memorizing their features and attributes. It paid to know your enemies. They got their food, watched as the mercs congregated, then sat down nearby. The mercs watched them even as they were watched.

The room was filled with conversations with different groups from different countries eating together. It was a base that catered to all manner of options. Most got along beautifully.

Sitting nearby, the women favored by the bots laughed as they chatted. The mercs were watching them, all of the five highly attractive friendly women. Then one of them rose to walk to where Lennox, Epps and Graham sat. Pulling a chair, he joined them.

-0-Bluestreak and Sunstreaker

Sunstreaker skated down the trail to the beach with Bluestreak's servo in his hand. The youngling gunner followed quickly to keep up. The bonfire they were lighting to celebrate the return to the fold of Trailbreaker was going to be a blowout. Wheeljack's stash had been 'mysteriously' appropriated and even though they only dared to take about four bottles it would be a nice buzz for one and all.

Unless everyone came.

Then some would do without, the 'freeloading slaggers'.

"But you took the bottles without asking, Sunny. How can someone else drinking them be freeloading when you're a thief?" Bluestreak asked as he grinned at Sunny.

Sunny grinned back, glancing over his shoulder as he felt the bottles tinkling against each other in his hold/carrier space. "Shhh," he said pausing to kiss Bluestreak hard on the lips. They continued onward moving toward the noise of conversation and Blaster's musical contribution as the sun began to descend into the sea beyond.

-0-Lunch earlier

Sam Hedges sat down across from Lennox and Epps.

Graham who sat next to him paused his lunch to look at the merc. "Can we do something for you?" he asked, noting that a number of others around the room had turned to watch the show.

No one liked the mercs.

"I was wondering if you could introduce us to some of the bots," Sam said. He didn't look nervous. He was relaxed and calm in his affect. It was disturbing.

"Why?" Epps asked. "You hate them."

"I don't. I'm here to do a job. What I'd love to do is take a spin. If you introduce me, I can ask," Sam said. "I never saw so many beautiful cars in one place before."

Lennox considered that. "I could. I can't guarantee that they would agree."

Sam nodded. "Understood. Thanks," he said as he rose. He walked back, sat down and began to eat again.

The other mechs stared at Lennox, then Hedges. Then they began to eat again.

"Are you?" Graham asked with a slight smirk.

Lennox looked at him, then grinned. "Ask what?"

-0-At the Transient Officer's Barracks later that evening

They sat on the patio enjoying the cooler temperature as they talked while drinking. Videos and games aside, there was little else for men such as themselves to do in an island base such as Diego Garcia. Todd sat with his feet up on a deck chair knocking back his third beer since dinner. "What the hell are they doing out there?"

Steve, himself eating a sandwich. He shrugged. "Who cares? They're robots. They could be building Buicks for all I care."

Todd snorted with amusement as two others, Laurence and Tony, laughed. They'd all been drinking for some time, poker long since past and they were bored. They all knew they would be but the pay was good and the atmosphere was currently devoid of warring factions.

Then again, the night was young, Todd thought. He rose to toss his empty beer can into the trash can nearby. Strapping on his pistol, putting on his Intel-Martin baseball cap, he walked toward the four wheeler at the edge of the lawn.

"Where you going?" Steve asked, his sandwich halfway to his mouth.

"To take a piss!" Todd said revving the machine loudly to peel out as gravel flew around him. He quickly disappeared down the road.

Steve watched him go with a frown. He was driving toward the noise and music on the beach. He shook his head in disgust. "You could take a piss right here, you dumb ass. We have trees enough for everyone." He sighed then continued his sandwich.

-0-Med Bay

Ratchet lay on a med berth deep in recharge. He'd come together in his office, walking out on the way to the wash racks. Standing under the steady stream of warm water, he had felt himself pulling together as a hunger in his tanks could be felt for the first time since Denver. He'd washed, energized then walked back to the Med Bay as tired as before but without the dread and doom that had buried itself deeply in his spark.

Prowl and Prime were there talking softly to Ironhide who was assuring them both that he would be on his peds in no time. Prime who was ecstatic and relieved held Ironhide's servo. He grinned at the steady patter of slag Ironhide was dishing.

They talked together, four old friends of many a campaign, then Prime and Prowl left, leaving Ratchet and Ironhide alone in the dimmed lights of the Med Bay.

-0-On the way to the beach

Todd rode the four wheeler across the tarmac avoiding the runways where big planes were parked. For all he knew, they could all be robots and some of them were as they recharged outside the hangars that were theirs, enjoying the warm air and the beautiful sky overhead.

He pushed onward heading toward the light of a fire, its sparks flying upward into the darkness overhead. The sound of laughter and talk that he could hear become louder and louder as he got closer was just electronic noise to him.

Sitting on the sand with Hound leaning against his shoulder and a bottle in his servo, Trailbreaker laughed at a pantomime that Sideswipe was doing of Ironhide and a mission they'd gone on the year before. He had enjoyed himself, cutting a Decepticon in half with his gigantic swords.

Sunstreaker who was jealous of the fight he hadn't been there to partake in hooted at his brother. Bluestreak who was sitting behind him with his arms around Sunny's shoulders laughed with delight.

It was all good.

The bottles were passed as jokes flowed. The Milky Way overhead was moving slowly across the softly velvet darkened sky. Toward that happiness, that gathering of a wounded tribe together in a small out-of-the-way place in a very big universe, a four wheeler was headed. That four wheeler was driven by a man who had had opportunity all his life, from good schools to good jobs. He had never applied himself at anything, taking whatever he was handed by his older brother who was currently an executive in Intel-Martin.

He'd never been hungry and alone, pinned down in a battle against overwhelming odds against truly ruthless adversaries that not only wanted to kill you, but obliterate every trace that you ever existed. He'd never seen his country fall to enemies, his people killed and scattered. He'd never been deprived and as a consequence he had no idea of the beings he was rushing toward gun at hip and attitude flying high.

He'd never been on the other side of the looking-glass watching others plunder his home and his culture, tearing apart everything that mattered and counted. He was an over paid overindulged dilettante from an over indulged culture and country, someone who'd never had to face himself and see where the bullshit ended and the truth began.

He was going to find out now.

-0-Nearing the beach party

He stopped his engine, shutting off the machine as he stared into the darkness toward a flickering light and voices. Stepping off with his gun in hand, he crept forward toward the light and bots dancing.

Dancing robots.

Fuck, he thought as he spied two or three couples swaying to a slow tune. Bending low, he crept closer and just as he was about to reach the safety of trees a huge hand gripped his body to yank him off of his feet.

He didn't even have time to scream.