To those who asked, I currently have no plans for Arcee to be paired with anyone. That may change as the story reaches its end, but I don't want to take away too much focus from Airachnid and Optimus.

xx

Knockout would have been lying to himself if he said he wasn't inspired by Dreadwing's easy betrayal. He even caught himself eyeing the other sealed away relics; the Apex Armour, despite how garish it would look on him, could shield him from even Megatron's vicious blows. Even the Resonance Blaster could serve him well against a squad of Vehicons at his heels.

But he still had work to finish before he could even dream of defection. And he didn't fool himself into thinking his survival odds were any better than Starscream's on a good day. Speaking of Starscream, he still had him (and Soundwave) both locked in stasis. 'Maybe if I do the T Cog transplant badly enough his spark will just give out halfway through,' he thought. Knockout was far too good at his job for that to be a possibility, but he could always hope.

He almost forgot about the giant tear in the med-bay's wall until he stumbled across it just as Dreadwing did, and saw Breakdown trying to sneak across the floor ('trying' being the operative word considering how he plodded with his peds) to where Soundwave lay dead to the world.

"The one time he shows up on time to work and I'm not even there..." Knockout scoffed under his vents, but resisted the urge to break the suspense. Whatever Breakdown was up to, it could be very lucrative for Knockout to know... and unlike Knockout, the former Wrecker was far too stupid to know he was being eavesdropped on.

"Soundwave... I dunno if you can hear me, and... well, we're not really friends or anything. But... I know, for whatever reason, you care about Airachnid like I do. So like you helped me, I'm gonna help you. Try to, at least." Breakdown rubbed his elbow nervously as he made the offer, moving his hand to the back of his helm before he had a slow-forming epiphany that had his digits snapping together in front of his wide optic. "I know! I'll... I'll try and get Laserbeak back. Even if he's just a pet, he must mean a lot to you. I think Megatron's got most of the database decoded anyway, so... he won't miss him much." He leaned into Soundwave's static frame as he gushed, as if expecting the Comm Chief to leap up and embrace him in gratitude. But all that came was a thrumming thud coming closer from the south side of the ship, loud enough that even Breakdown in his unfocused state took notice of it.

"Speaking of Megatron, I think he's on his way... scrap." He looked to each of the two exits available to him, glancing between them before he finally saw a third one offered from the rift in the wall that Knockout just managed to hide behind before Breakdown's optic picked him out. Though it was properly a moot effort, considering the Wrecker didn't even see the medic flattened against the intact wall as he rushed himself through the hole towards whatever safety he had from Megatron's wrath.

"...He really is an idiot," Knockout muttered, pulling himself the other way through the hole so he was already at ground zero when the tidal wave of warlord fury hit.

"KNOCKOUT!"

The medic was surprised Starscream wasn't stunned out of stasis by Megatron's bellow as his lord swelled into the room, clutching something Knockout didn't quite care to recognise. "Yes, my liege?"

Megatron stalked across the med-bay, casting glares over Soundwave and Starscream's frames laying opposite each other on their tables. "Would you care to enlighten me on where my fragging Second in Command is?!"

For another suicidal nanoklick, Knockout almost considered keeping his word and telling the truth, if only to save his own armour. But those red optics were not ones you could confess betrayal to. "I... witnessed Dreadwing heading to the ship's flight deck, but I don't know where he could be now."

Megatron slashed at the air with his denta, but turned away with a current of his hot rage swamping over Knockout as the medic sagged with relief. "One fragging disaster after another... was it before or after Airachnid left that everything started going to rust?"

Knockout couldn't tell if he was being rhetorical or not, and either way he couldn't think of an answer. He was entertaining a much more dangerous question, one that had been clawing at his processor since day one of her defection. "...Sir, why do you hate her so much?"

Like a tank's treads hitting a rock, Megatron paused quite suddenly, betraying his surprise. Even the grip on whatever he'd brought back from Cybertron faltered. "... Hate?" It was liked he'd been snapped from a trance as he shook his helm at the word. Even his optics seemed dimmer now, sapped of whatever had been making them burn. Knockout was grimly reminded of those times Unicron was infesting the warlord's spark.

"No, Knockout. I hate Optimus. I hate the council that made war a necessity. I don't hate Airachnid. I... " Megatron trailed off, distracted from whatever point he was trying to get across before the anger took hold again. But he was too late; his optics grew sharp again as he shook the brief sympathy out of his helm. "Never mind that. There's more important matters to address now." He slammed his servo down... or rather, he slammed a servo down on the table in front of Knockout.

"Is that... a severed limb?" he asked over a wave of nausea, despite how many operations he'd gone through with hardly a hitch from his tanks.
"From a Prime's grave," Megatron confirmed. "Liege Maximo's, to be precise. You will attach it to me. Now." He was securing himself to a surgical table before Knockout could even attempt to argue, what with Starscream still awaiting his operation. But he knew well where his priorities were best placed, so he only allowed himself a sigh as he prepared the transplant procedure (and tried not to look too closely at the stolen servo as its ancient paint peeled away). Megatron refused the offer of stasis lock, and he seemed to stare at his servo while Knockout oiled his saw for slicing through it. Even when the metal filings flew up with a screech and his empty fuel lines were cut open, he didn't shift his gaze or even growl in pain. Not even with his servo was limp, powerless, and the Prime's arm was welded its his place. It was only near the end of the procedure, when the dormant nerve nodes were being linked to his frame, that he looked elsewhere, over to where Soundwave was trapped in his own mind.

"It's quite funny," Megatron mused to himself over the bubbling sound of soldering, only the slightest edge to his voice. "Soundwave's sire took on Liege Maximo as his gladiator name. If I killed him now, it would be with his own father's hand..." He tensed each of the Prime's claws one by one, forming a jagged fist as Knockout finished the internal circuitry against all his common sense. When the monstrosity was done, Megatron took precious klicks to admire the new appendage further; watching the red gloss reflect his optics under the harsh med-bay lights, scoring the claws across his palm, just enough time for Knockout to move onto Starscream's gratefully innocent transplant.

The Seeker was still swimming under the effects of stasis when Megatron found that the Forge was gone, so at least he didn't feel too much pain when the warlord tested out his new servo by repeatedly imprinting his faceplate into the Nemesis' hull.

xx

With the humans returned to safety and the sun low outside the base, Optimus gathered his uneasy team and its newest addition in the foyer. Airachnid was content to keep herself outside the circle, watching Scorpia doodle away on sheets of paper Miko left behind for her. But Optimus knew she'd be listening closely, no matter how her processor seemed to be elsewhere.

"So, Dreadwing... we've let you in our little home," Ratchet said through his gritted, lingering suspicion. "Now for you to start talking."

"We would greatly appreciate all that you can tell us, Dreadwing," Optimus added, if only to soften the sour command. It didn't help improve the Seeker's expression.

"Very well," Dreadwing intoned after a tense pause. "I am unaware of what you might already know, so I shall simply reveal everything as I know it." He cast his optics across the Autobots gathered around, only passing over the Wrecker's glares to dismiss them. "After my arrival on Earth, it seemed that nothing was amiss. All that was known was that Airachnid fled after having a child, the sire... unknown. Megatron expected her to perish without the Decepticons, so he turned his focus to finding the Iacon relics. It was only after Airachnid's survival was discovered that he... became enraged, obsessed with finding her and whoever who might be giving her aid. His prime suspect for the latter was Soundwave."

Dreadwing seemed to anticipate the confusion that rippled through the assembled bots, as he paused to let the information seep in. The only one not surprised was Airachnid... though that might have just been part of her act, Optimus assumed. She didn't betray much past the mask she showed for Scorpia's sake, and perhaps her own as well.

"Why would Soundwave of all mechs be helpin' her?" Wheeljack asked, hostility forgotten in the wake of bewilderment.

"I do not know," Dreadwing said. "His motives were always unclear to me. Megatron was to perform a Cortical Psychic Patch to uncover the truth, but Soundwave was able to induce stasis on himself. As far as I know, he is still in a static state." He waited for more questions, and only continued when none came."As for Megatron's plans, all I know is that he is in possession of a pair of very powerful relics, ones that Starscream brought to him to earn his favour back. Each one was identical, shaped like... some sort of key."

The realisation that hit Optimus was like an uppercut from Primus himself, a shock of cold terror around his spark that even Airachnid felt with her helm tugged up towards him. If finding Elita was a celebrated surprise, this was its polar opposite. Orion would have collapsed and even Optimus was struggling to stay composed knowing someone, anyone like Megatron had possession of the Autobots' only hope for returning to Cybertron.

"The Omega Keys..."

"The Omega what now?" Arcee asked.

"Ooh, ooh, I've heard of them!" Smokescreen chimed, shoving himself forwards to take Dreadwing's spotlight. "Alpha Trion mentioned them once, that they're, uh... a backup system for the planet! You get the keys, and then boom, everything's a-okay again." He crossed his servos and grinned like only a young mech could, something most soldiers had forgotten how to do this far into the war. Optimus wished he could share his hope, but unfortunately he knew it wasn't as simple as that. The details could come later, though.

"Four of such keys exist, and all are needed to activate the Omega Lock. The Lock is what restores the planet in the wake of disaster," the Prime explained, still failing to hide his grim tone.

Arcee was the first to piece together that which Optimus was already fearing. "If Megatron has two of them, that means the other two are still out there somewhere."

"And we must find them immediately," Optimus added. "Megatron knows what they are, and what kind of advantage they give him over us. If he succeeds in restoring Cybertron, he could only so easily establish himself as its tyrant."

Dreadwing seemed to accept that without argument, in fact he seemed most unsettled by the notion of a planet ruled by Megatron (though Bumblebee was a close second, struggling to stop his vocaliser bubbling over with beeps).

"Well, fittingly there's only two database files left unchecked," Ratchet said, bringing each of them up on his monitor. "One reads out like a co-ordinate set, same as the others, but the last... I have no idea what it's supposed to represent."

Optimus looked over the final file himself, but even he couldn't understand what it was. Pixelated lines filled the screen rather than coded numbers, like a broken jigsaw. "Keep trying to decode it, Ratchet," was all he could advise. "In the meantime, we must retrieve the third key before Megatron does."

Ratchet nodded, betraying weariness in a sigh. "I'll set up the Ground Bridge. It's in Egypt, so keep your windshields up. I'm not having sand tracked all over the place when you get back..."

As the medic trudged towards the controls, Dreadwing moved closer to Optimus."If I may, Optimus, I would volunteer for this mission," he said. "I know what the key looks like firsthand. And... if Megatron is there, then I have a duty to face him."

Optimus was inclined to allow it, but Airachnid had brought herself to the Seeker's side. "If he's going, then so am I," she decided, fully expecting him to let her go.

"Airachnid, you are in no shape to fight against Megatron-"

"What is that supposed to mean?" Even with only a few of her legs available to her she managed to lift herself up enough that she was level with his chest. Dreadwing couldn't see the glare she was giving Optimus or see the glint of her fangs, but he instinctively took a step back as Optimus tried to defuse her. Though he'd never been able to discourage Elita from taking part in suicide missions and risky raids before, why would Airachnid be any different in her stubbornness?

"It means you'll only get yourself hurt," he said firmly, an argument that he put to her hundreds of times before with little to no results. "You'll have your chance to face him again, I promise. Just not now."

They stared each other down, linked sparks burning in their shared glares, but it seemed Optimus was more intent on keeping her alive than she was at getting her overdue revenge. She violently pulled her optics away, reluctantly setting herself back down on her heels.

"Fine... but when that chance comes, don't expect me to keep him alive," she huffed, bordering on a hiss.

"I don't," Optimus told her quietly, though perhaps too late as she stalked away in a bitter stride. Elita didn't hold her anger for long, but with Airachnid... he just didn't know what to expect. He tried to calm a sigh as he turned back to Dreadwing and his infinitely more predictable processor. "Can I truly trust you to retrieve this Omega Key?" he asked, hoping to see the answer in the Seeker's frame rather than words. Dreadwing's stance didn't shift, didn't betray any hidden motive he might have had as he scoffed.
"Prime, if I was planning on betraying you then I would have done it by now," he said curtly, swiftly turning away with a rush of air whistling through his wings portal. And before Optimus could even move away Smokescreen and Arcee promptly took the Seeker's place before him.

"Hey, I wanna go too, Optimus!" Smokescreen said, wringing a fist in his other hand. "I'll keep an optic on him for us all."

"Count me in as well," Arcee added, not quite as enthusiastic as the mech but confident enough that Optimus knew nothing would hamper her abilities.

"And I'll bring that Phase... thingy with me as well!" Smokescreen offered. "Let's see Megatron try and catch me when I'm slipping through walls!"
It was a good plan, but Optimus narrowed his optics down at the young mech. "Smokescreen, did I not instruct you to stay out of the relic vault?"

"Well, yeah, but... I was only looking, I swear!" Smokescreen kept his grin plastered but the dip of his door wings betrayed his guilt. Beside him Arcee's winglets fluttered in amusement, and even Optimus might have smiled in better circumstances.

"You may both go," he said. "Take whatever you would deem necessary."

The two bots nodded, Smokescreen a little too eager to escape the Prime's probing gaze, and went to take their positions in front of the humming Ground Bridge. Only Dreadwing remained, trying to see where he'd fit in with the formation when something tapped on his ped. Scorpia flapped something up at him, and Dreadwing had to kneel to take the drawing carefully in his claws.

"What is this?" he asked, scanning the scribbled blue and yellow lines like they were an ancient language.
"Fwonywing!" Scorpia announced, pointing up at Dreadwing's face as he squinted at the giant black scowl she'd arced over his faceplate, the jagged attempts at his wings hanging down his back.

"...I don't frown that much," he grumbled, though he slipped the drawing into his subspace as he put himself at the head of the mission detail.