XII - New Recruit
"This is what you humans call the information superhighway?!" I exclaimed, skimming through a close encounters conspiracy website. "A trillion gigabytes of data, none of it useful!" The "useful" data I referred to was any sort of hint to the location of MECH's base. One would think they'd provide coordinates…
"Here, let me see." Raf offered, setting his laptop aside and came over to me, peering over my shoulder. I chuckled, scrolling through a list of images resembling clips from cheesy monster movies and people in bad costumes. "Wait!" He exclaimed. I clicked back through a few pictures, stopping on one of the yellow scout.
"Bumblebee, you really should be more careful." Seven suggested.
The scout buzzed out a halfhearted apology, watching as Raf darted back over to his laptop.
"I found it," he announced, pulling up the same website. "Okay, removing Bumblebee and replacing him with…" the computer's speakers suddenly let out small screeches.
"The tap dancing monkey strikes again." Jack chuckled, giving Raf a high five. I snickered quietly.
"Bumblebee sightings on the World Wide Web are no laughing matter," Ratchet frowned at us.
The comm unit on the computer I was using pinged.
"Who's that?" Jack asked.
"Oliver," I sighed, "he keeps calling me to speak of his field trip." That was the cover story my clone and I had invented to explain their absence. Thankfully, no one had questioned it so far. I bit my lip, not wanting to answer it but needing to.
Fearing the worst, I transferred the link to my personal channel, stepping away from the console. I walked off at a brisk pace in search of an area more secluded than the center of the silo, down an offshooting hall to be precise.
"Starscream, where are you–"
"I will be a minute." I replied hastily, glancing over my shoulder at the white medic.
I answered the comm once I was deep in a hall, away from prying optics, audials, eyes, and ears. "Starscream speaking."
My fears were confirmed as Silas answered, speaking what sounded like a set of coordinates. I memorized them without even trying. "So you offer yourself up on the right doorstep," he explained.
"What have you done to the humans?" I hissed.
His reply was cool and calculated, "Don't worry, it's less than I'm planning to do to you. But the food in the cells isn't exactly à la mode, so I would hurry if you value their well-being." A sneer had entered his tone, and the link cut out. Shaken, I dragged my pedes back into the main atrium of our base. Ratchet took one look and ordered me onto a med berth.
I gave the medic a stern look, "No. There are more important matters I must attend to at present."
"Oh, really now? And just what is more important to you than your very function? Enlighten us." Describing his tone as skeptical was like comparing a pebble to a mountain. My confidence eroded away beneath his glare and I shrunk away.
"Ah…" I looked to Seven, hoping he understood.
He appeared to, but simply didn't care. "I think Ratchet is right on this one." He didn't even try to look the least bit remorseful.
Fuming, I leaned back against the med berth. "I swear upon the Allspark, I'm fine!"
"Sure, you're only dying, but fine." Knock Out rolled his optics.
If looks could kill.
The Autobot medic swept a scanner over my chassis with a frown, "Your core temperature is a few degrees above the normal level…" he frowned some more, studying the device in his servo, "and appears to be slowly rising."
"Someone's got a fever." Miko crooned, crossing her arms.
I sputtered, "I do not!"
"You do, says your physician." Ratchet declared.
"Ooh, touchy, are we?" Knock Out purred, tugging against his cuffs.
"You stay out of this." I snapped.
"The best thing you can do for yourself at the moment is allow your chassis to rest," the white medic said stoutly.
"I believe Ratchet has the final say in this," Optimus agreed, "and your welfare is a priority. To all of us." He finished firmly, but there was an almost fatherly gentleness in his tone too.
What about Oliver, his family, and Will? What about their welfare? I wanted to snap, but held my glossa instead and remained silent.
Looking into the Prime's sad optics slowly became too much to bear, so I pretended to comply with their wishes for the moment. I shuttered mine, slowly allowing my intakes to even while my processor raced. Sure, I did feel a tad warmer than usual, come to think of it, but not nearly as much as Ratchet had said. I suspected he had exaggerated it to sway the others to his side of confining me to a berth.
And I was furious that it was working.
Miko's voice dragged me out of my thoughts, "Does he always scowl that much in his sleep—recharge… whatever you bots call it?" She wondered from somewhere off to my left.
"No, not usually, but sometimes after Megatron gave him a good trouncing…" Knock Out trailed off, his voice much closer on my right. Mildly worried, I leveled my expression out a bit, still keeping my optics closed tight.
Finally, after much too long, it felt like all their gazes were diverted elsewhere. I cracked open an optic, confirming my suspicions. Optimus and Arcee watched the main console's screens over Ratchet's shoulder plates. Bulkhead was in the process of examining one of his blasters in my peripheral vision, and Knock Out had his back to me. Seven stood silently behind the Prime, arms crossed, studying me. Throwing caution to the wind, I opened both optics and winked at him. His widened, eyebrows raising.
I cast furtive glances at each of the others before my optics fell back on Starscream, making sure they weren't watching.
"We need to talk," he mouthed at me. I nodded slightly, glancing at Optimus standing next to me. When I looked back to my double, his optics were shuttered again.
"Wait, what's that?" Jack suddenly asked, pointing at the screen of Raf's laptop. The three humans, myself, and Bumblebee leaned in for a closer look. Raf zoomed in on a bright portion of a grainy photograph labeled "Mystery Meteor."
"A Cybertronian escape pod?!" The younger boy exclaimed.
"Here, in Earth's atmosphere?" Ratchet affirmed, surprised.
"Here, of all rocks." I added, glancing at Starscream. But the med berth that had been occupied a moment ago was vacant, and I didn't see him anywhere in the room. My tank dropped.
Raf put the image up on the main screens, biting his bottom lip. I could practically see his gears turning.
"Autobot, or Decepticon?" Arcee asked, examining the photo.
"It's impossible to tell, given the image resolution." Ratchet answered, attempting to enhance it from the console. I slowly began to creep away, off in search of my double. No one took notice, fortunately, their eyes and optics still glued to the screens.
I backed around a corner and disappeared from their view, walking smack into something. I yelped in surprise and a servo clapped over my mouth, effectively stifling it while dragging me backwards.
"In any event, this merits investigation." Optimus said, turning to face his fellow Autobots.
"It could be a trap." Arcee added grimly.
"An Autobot may be in distress. Ratchet, bring your medical kit." The Prime ordered.
"Optimus, are you sure it's wise to leave Sta–where is Starscream?" The medic looked worried.
"Beats me." Bulkhead shrugged.
"None of you saw him leave?" Optimus asked, looking around at each of them.
"Wait, Sev's gone too!" Raf exclaimed.
"Don't look at me," Knock Out said defensively. So, naturally, everyone did just that.
"Arcee," Optimus began, "perhaps then it would be best for you to remain here with the children and our guest." He suggested.
"And us three can go hunt for Scream and Sev!" Miko offered with unrivaled enthusiasm.
"But Optimus, with all due respect, shouldn't Ratchet stay behind?" The femme protested.
"Ratchet's medical expertise makes him a better choice for this mission, given that an Autobot may be in need of medical assistance." He countered.
"If the bot inside isn't one of Megatron's goons." She muttered beneath her vocalizer.
"If he is, we'll make sure he gets a warm welcome!" The Wrecker bashed his fists together.
Optimus held out a servo, "Bulkhead, we will treat them, whomever they may be, as a friend until proven foe."
"All right, all right," Bulkhead conceded, deflating.
"Well, one thing's for sure," Miko chortled, drawing everyone's attention, "we're cooler than Wonder Woman! We have two invisible jets!" Jack and Raf exchanged an exasperated look.
"Shh!" I hissed, looking around frantically to make sure we were alone.
I released Seven's helm. "What are you doing?" He whispered shrilly, optics panicked.
"Shut up!" I hissed again, listening intently. The little pitter-patter of human feet sounded behind us. "This way!" I scowled, tugging my clone into a side hallway. We crouched against a wall in the shadows, panting quietly.
"Starscream?" Jack's voice echoed, bouncing off the walls on its way to our audials. A flashlight beam swung around a corner, lighting up dust and cobwebs on the ceiling.
"S-Seven?" Raf called out nervously, his voice echoing less than Jack's had.
"D'yeh think that Scream's gone, like, rabid or something and taken Sev prisoner?" Miko hissed excitedly.
"Ugh, thanks for the image, Miko." Jack groaned. I gave Seven a wry look, which he didn't quite return. The trio turned a corner and were gone, their voices fading away.
My clone hummed quietly, "Doesn't sound far from the truth." I punched him. "Hey!"
I growled, "That was uncalled for."
"Of course it was," he muttered, "why are we here?"
"I know the coordinates to the location of MECH's base!"
Bulkhead, Bumblebee, Ratchet, and Optimus exited the ground bridge in a line, blasters at the ready. The yellow scout walked forwards first, blasters raised and trained on the escape pod. It had left a path of destruction in its wake. Mud mixed with a long, thin pool of energon that had spilled from the pod's tank as it crashed. Trees were ploughed over or tilted sideways at steep, dangerous angles.
"This is the place, all right." Bulkhead said quietly.
Bumblebee transformed one of his blasters back into a servo, sweeping off a layer of grit hiding a faction's shield.
"It is of Decepticon origin." Optimus announced.
"Looks like the 'Con inside blew his way out." Bulkhead added as his optics scanned the pod's ruptured hull. Suddenly, the red plasma of blaster fire began to rain down upon them from the forest.
"How?!" I gasped, my wings flaring up.
"That's not important," Starscream replied, "but I have a plan… a plan to free the humans and steal the cure." He smirked avidly.
"Let me guess," I began, "I shouldn't disclose this to the others?"
"You read my mind."
A few minutes of sneaking around and looking over our shoulder plates later, we arrived at the vault housing the red energon.
"That's your plan!" I exclaimed, "We don't even have the resources to process it into fuel without the other Autobots' knowledge–and who knows how volatile it is!"
"Ah, but forbidden fruit is always the sweetest." he sighed, "And I'm fool enough to think that you, of all bots, would understand." I glared at the wall, he had me there.
I fluttered my wings, refusing to let my resolve slip, "Which is precisely why I am trying to put a stop to this futile endeavor." He didn't seem to hear me, a fevered look of determination entering his optics. I felt a sharp pang of anxiety, wondering just how sick he was at present. Had the virus already started to addle his processor? "Primus knows what the red energon will do to your systems–"
"If this is about the virus, save it," he spat fervently "I've been hearing you bots worry over that in my slagging recharge."
"Besides," I continued, "even if it is safe, we can't process it into fuel, and I imagine chewing on rocks wouldn't prove effective enough."
Starscream threw the door open with a heave, "We do possess the resources to process the energon in secret, my dear clone."
I shook myself and blinked, "You don't mean the Harbinger?"
"I do."
The Autobots returned fire on the five Vehicons and a pair of Insecticons that seemingly had materialized from the surrounding forest. Both factions had fanned out, making themselves smaller targets and sought shelter behind trees, scrub, or boulders. The ones who picked the latter were better off.
"All those 'Cons came outta one pod, huh?" Bulkhead wondered skeptically, ducking behind a boulder to dodge a blaster shot to his helm. Next to him, Bumblebee landed a shot on a Vehicon's chest plate and he crumpled to the ground, his front coughing out smoke.
"Humans refer to the phenomenon as a clown car!" Ratchet shouted back, transforming out his surgical blades. An Insecticon flew in from above the Vehicons and transformed, landing heavily. He began to trade blows with Optimus, but the Prime didn't waste time fighting him. He shot the pair of Insecticons in their helms without a second's hesitation, swiftly dispatching them.
Without warning, more blue plasma joined the mix from behind the four Autobots. They each glanced back, seeing a white mech with blue highlights charging at them, blaster raised.
"Incoming!" Bulkhead shouted, raising his blasters at him. Bumblebee followed suit next to the green mech.
"Friendly!" The unfamiliar mech shouted, door wings jouncing as he vaulted over a boulder and onto a Vehicon. He took out another with a shot from his blaster before being forced to seek shelter from the rain of red plasma behind a large boulder. The four other Autobots stepped back in shock as a stray shot from his blaster hit the pool of energon in the wake of the pod, igniting it. Unnaturally blue flames danced over its surface.
"Fall back!" Optimus commanded, already turning away. The five mechs turned and ran, a massive explosion of blue fire licking at their heels. When the dust and smoke had mostly cleared, they were met with blue tongues of flame curling around what was left of a few very charred trees and shrubs.
The white mech stood atop a boulder, pumping his fist with a grin on his faceplates. "Ha! Too hot for ya, 'Cons?"
"Friend of yours?" Ratchet asked Bumblebee. The scout shrugged, raising his servos.
"He's white enough all right, but he ain't Jackie." Bulkhead sounded disappointed.
The mech spoke up, "Torching that energon leak, pretty good plan, right?" He puffed out his chest plate pridefully.
"Except that it wasn't your plan." Ratchet countered, stepping up to him. "It was the result of a reckless shot that could have just as well terminated us all!"
The mech refused to be in the wrong, "Worked out, didn't it?"
"Thank you, fellow Autobot." Optimus interjected before Ratchet could build up more steam, seeing the Autobot shield on his chest plate. He spun around, facing the Prime. "Your… valor is to be commended."
The white mech gawked up at him, speechless. "I–don't believe it! You're Optimus Prime!" he looked at the others, pointing, "He's Optimus Prime!"
"We know." Bulkhead said.
"Yes, yes." Ratchet sighed. Bumblebee buzzed in agreement.
"What is your name, soldier?" Optimus asked, planting his servos on his hips.
"Smokescreen, sir!" He saluted the Prime, blue optics glittering with barely contained excitement.
"Welcome to Earth, Smokescreen." Optimus offered his servo.
"It's an honor to be here," Smokescreen said as he clasped the Prime's servo with both of his, "especially with you." he added eagerly.
Bulkhead rolled his optics, "Oh, brother."
I had filled my clone in on some of the finer details to my plan as to how we would infiltrate MECH's base as we stood in front of the massive chunks of the glowing red energon.
He held up a fistful of the scarlet crystals, plus a little bit extra, just in case. "Do you really think this is enough?"
"Let's hope, seeing as we cannot swipe more without them taking notice." I answered grimly and pulled the remote control for the ground bridge out of a gap between my thigh plating, activating it.
Seven saw me pull it out. "Of course you hold that in reserve, never allowing anyone to use it but yourself." He grumbled, playing catch with the chunk of red energon.
"Have you not used it plenty in the past? Off you go," I urged, a smirk tugging at the corner of my mouth.
He trotted through the portal with considerable amounts of complaints about how this still was a dangerous idea; one just as volatile as the crystals he carried. I had other ideas, sprinting off down the hall to another vault and snatched a relic up off its respected pedestal.
"What took you?" Seven asked impatiently a moment later, setting the chunk of energon on a desk inside the Harbinger. I threw a switch on the ground bridge remote, closing the vortex.
My reply was throwing the Apex Armor at him. He caught it out of reflex, examining its edges in awe.
"Why did you–?"
"Don't you know? A good hero always needs a sidekick." I grinned at him.
"Oh please!" He snapped indignantly.
"Sidekick, I think some redecorating is in order. Care to speed things along?" I smirked at him. He shot me a glare, setting the Apex Armor aside. I reclined back in a chair, the superior smirk still on my faceplates as I crossed my pedes up on a desk.
Seven set the red energon on top of the device which processed it into liquid fuel. A whole minute passed before the first drop even fell.
"We'll be here a week," my clone groaned. I frowned at it, unable to agree more.
"Now what?" Ratchet wondered, looking to Optimus. "It's not like we can just bring him back to base."
The Prime mulled the prospect over for a moment before speaking, "I see you received your training from Cybertron's Elite Guard." Optimus pointed to the shield indicating so on the mech's shoulder plate.
"True enough," Smokescreen agreed, "but it wasn't much more than a boot camp by the time I joined. I never even got a proper graduation ceremony!" he groused.
"There is a war going on, you know, hotshot." Bulkhead frowned at him.
The white mech was on the defensive, "Hey, all I ever wanted was to be a soldier, to serve the Autobot cause!" he shot back. "But what I got was security duty at Iacon."
"The Hall of Records, of all places?" Ratchet said skeptically. "Optimus, do you not find this highly suspicious?"
The Prime faced the white and blue mech, new authority permeating his tone. "Smokescreen, what was your assignment inside the Hall?"
Smokescreen didn't even hesitate, "Guarding Alpha Trion during what turned out to be the final days of the war," he shrugged nonchalantly.
Optimus looked mildly surprised, "You served under the Master Archivist?"
"Eh, I wasn't psyched at first, watching the back of an old 'Bot instead of kicking 'Con tailpipe!" He exclaimed, pounding a fist into his other servo. But then he wilted beneath the others' stares, "Sorry." he apologized awkwardly, "But the Big 'A' turned out to be a great teacher, and a true friend. I mean, he was the one who petitioned Halogen and the high council to make you a Prime!"
Optimus scrutinized the mech standing before him, searching for any signs of deceit. Finding none, he opened a comm patch to their base. "Rafael, open the ground bridge."
"On it, Raf's busy." Arcee replied on the other end. The link cut out.
"That's it!" Bulkhead exclaimed, "That's all you need to hear before tossing him keys to the base!?"
"If my former mentor shared this information," the red mech countered, "it is because he considered Smokescreen to be a trusted ally."
The Wrecker conceded with a grudging huff. "As long as the newbie learns his place."
I walked back through a ground bridge portal and into the base ahead of Starscream, not wishing to give him any more reasons for him to call me "sidekick" again.
"Where were you two?" Arcee asked accusingly. "The children have been combing the halls for almost an hour!"
"Time certainly does fly in your world, doesn't it, Arcee?" I jested.
"Word of advice," she growled at me, "watch what you say, or someone might clean your clock."
"And mine's already shining." I grumbled beneath my vocalizer. "Megatron made sure of that awhile ago."
"I could–" Knock Out tried to say before we cut him off.
"Stay out of it." The femme and I spat in unison.
"Pfft," he huffed, "there's hardly enough room in this excuse for a base to move, much less voice one's own thoughts."
But we never learned just what his thoughts were, being interrupted by a ping on the console's comm.
"Rafael, open the ground bridge." Optimus requested from the other side of the the link.
"On it, Raf's busy," came the femme's reply. She switched the link off, facing us again.
Her optics fell on my double. "Starscream, are you alright?" She asked in a noticeably gentler tone. I perceived for the first time that he had been uncharacteristically silent even before we left the Harbinger.
Starscream seemed to rise out of a stupor, "What?–yes, I think so." He visibly shivered.
"I don't believe that for a minute," Knock Out said adamantly as Arcee pulled down the lever activating the ground bridge, "C'mon, drag your sorry aft over here." The medic encouraged lightheartedly, the utter opposite of how I felt.
Starscream walked over to him, rolling his optics and shaking his helm as if Knock Out's inspection was totally unnecessary. Sporadic shivers ran through his frame, saying the opposite.
A telltale green glow a second later announced the opening of a ground bridge behind us. I tried to amuse myself by looking for missing limbs as Optimus strode out of the vortex first, followed by Ratchet, Bulkhead, then Bumblebee, and a white and blue mech I'd never seen before in my all my function. I stepped out of sight and next to Starscream and Knock Out, a bad feeling in my tank. We all exchanged tacit looks, seeing the Autobot insignia in the center of his chest plate. Things could turn ugly if he recognized us as Decepticons before someone offered an explanation as to why we were here, instead of sulking aboard Megatron's warship.
"The newbie's called Smokescreen." The green mech jerked a thumb back at him.
"He isn't our prisoner then?" Arcee confirmed.
"The Big 'O' said I'm good to go!" Smokescreen glanced eagerly up at Optimus, who met his optics. The white mech cleared his throat awkwardly, hanging his helm. "Sorry, too friendly, sir."
"Sir?" The femme shook her helm in silent laughter.
The Prime laid a servo on the white mech's shoulder plate—a habit he seemed quite fond of, "Optimus will suffice, soldier." Something that could have been described as amusement sparkled in the depths of his optics.
The three children chose that very moment to jog into the room, panting. "We couldn't find them," Jack puffed and ran a hand through his hair anxiously, clicking his flashlight off.
"I'm not surprised," Ratchet said sarcastically, depositing his medical kit on a table near the three of us. He glanced at Starscream and I for a millisecond, as if expecting us to come out from behind the wall in front of the med berth where we were hiding. I shrugged at him, my wings fluttering lightly, and brought on a glower from Knock Out as one of them smacked him in the faceplates.
"Whoa, are you the new guy?!" Miko exclaimed excitedly, dropping her flashlight in a frenzy to dash over to him. Smokescreen didn't seem to know how to reply, watching her with a mixture of shock and confusion on his faceplates. "We haven't had somebody new here since Starscream and Seven!" She bounced on the balls of her feet and I vaguely wondered for a moment about her average sugar intake.
"What am I, chopped liver?" Knock Out grumbled behind me, softly enough to ensure his audials didn't register it.
"Last I checked, you were still our prisoner." I smirked at him.
"Don't insult human food." said my double.
I was about to point out that most humans probably didn't eat such a thing, but Knock Out spoke first. "Oh, the injustice!"
"And they call me dramatic." Starscream rolled his optics. Ratchet shot us a look that screamed "SHUT UP" louder than a fifty-foot tall sign with neon lettering ever could hope to.
Miko continued as she bounded up the platform steps, oblivious to our hushed conversation. "What's your story, Smoke? Where'd you come from? How'd you get here? How many blasters you packing?!" She grinned up at him next to Jack and Raf. I suddenly wanted to punch something, knowing that Oliver and Will weren't here. They were probably locked in a cell in the belly of MECH's base… or worse.
"So…" Smokescreen looked disappointed, "these are the life forms we're supposed to protect? Are they all like–wait, did you say Starscream?!" His optics widened and focused on Miko with a newfound intensity.
"Why? You two pals or something?" She accused, like he was off-limits.
His features contorted in disgust and his servos clenched, "No way! But he's here?! I've heard stories about that stiletto-heeled creep back on Cybertron! Slimy little freak who'll do whatever it takes to get what he wants."
My servos balled into fists, and I saw that Starscream's had too.
Optimus frowned, "Then it would be best for you not to meet him at this time."
At that, Starscream stepped into his field of view, positively seething. "I disagree!" He snapped, visibly shaking. It was impossible to discern whether it was from outrage or the virus—probably both. All our optics, eyes, in the humans' case, were glued him in stunned silence as he stalked towards the new mech, each step more unsteady than the last. The jet finally stopped in front of Smokescreen. "Call me a stiletto-heeled creep again, I dare you!"
"You must be Starscream!" he exclaimed contemptuously, "Funny. I thought you'd be taller." My double glared at him with pure hatred and drew an arm back. The white mech took a few nervous steps away, "Easy–!" he exclaimed. Starscream stalked closer with mad optics, but then shuddered and stumbled, falling to his knees. A web of whitish-blue electricity crackled through his frame and I gasped and hurried over to help as his legs buckled and he wound up on the floor, wings hanging limply over his chassis. Electricity shot through his chassis again, fizzling out at the end of his left wing, the one hiding his faceplates. Optimus was at his side in an instant, half carrying, half leading the poor mech away from a baffled Smokescreen as the white mech watched with wide optics.