A/N: Everyone point fingers at Wheeljack.

XXXV - On Three

Logically, Shockwave knew what Megatron would ask before he entered the room. When he did enter, the cyclops had perfectly prepared what he had to say.

The door to the Nemesis' lab irised open and the purple mech wasted no time. "My Lord, the cyber-matter's chemical structure is complex. I have worked diligently to create its formula, and it will not be much longer until I have it complete. However, I do not understand the logic behind your action of destroying the Omega Lock. It was irreplaceable."

"Shockwave," Megatron purred, "Indeed, it was irreplaceable, but with the cyber-matter formula, we can engineer as much of it as we shall ever need and more. The Lock itself was far too valuable to allow it to exist any longer, if it were to fall into Autobot servos it could mean a swift end to the war."

The cyclops nodded, understanding. "Agreed. Simply put, the raw cyber-matter could allow us to cyber-form entire worlds, build armies, or new generations of doomsday weapons. However, the formula is unstable while it remains incomplete."

"Then make haste and complete it! We do not wish to give the Autobots time enough to launch a strike against us, and cyber-forming Earth will rid it of the parasitic species called humanity, as well as the wretched Autobots and Optimus Prime." The warlord emphasized.

"Master," Shockwave added as Megatron turned to leave, "forgive my impudence, but I do not see the logic behind ruling two worlds."

The warlord paused, "It has taken me some time to fully comprehend, but Cybertron and Earth are inextricably linked, two halves of one whole: Primus and Unicron. And to rule only one would be to never truly rule either."

"I will be swift," the cyclops promised.

"See to it that you are." Megatron rumbled, and left the room.

A thin trickle of water spilled onto some exposed circuitry of the cracked metal shell, its tip baking in the hot sun. The wires sparked and caught fire, only to be doused by the water and extinguished just as quickly. But the electricity had been cut off and the ends of the wires were burned past uselessness. The shadows within the thick shell shifted, and a spindly leg slowly reached up to the crack, investigating it. Then another followed, and they pried it open, flooding the interior of the pod with glaring sunlight. A pair of purple optics narrowed against the light and their owner climbed out of the pod, flexing her legs.

She got a good look at her former prison, smirked smugly, and then saw her surroundings. Twisted and broken beams formed a convoluted mesh, orangish boulders and chunks of cement ranging from the size of a toaster to a house were strewn everywhere, some leaning precariously on others. A massive insignia stood out like a sore thumb on the ground, marred only by a few slashes from the boulders and spots of char.

"The Autobot base?" She purred, "Well, maybe not anymore." The black femme slashed a large X through the symbol and straightened, focusing her thoughts onto hundreds of little mental threads that all seemed to trail off into the same direction.

Airachnid transformed and started up her engine, her black helicopter blades cutting into the sky. "My Insecticons, we are back in business."

Later…

Bumblebee watched Seven walk into the mess hall and take a seat at a table at the far end of the room, not grabbing any energon.

The scout took a drink from his own cube and turned to Smokescreen, who had returned with the others a few hours ago, whispering, "Is it just me, or does something seem off about him?" He gave a slight motion at the Seeker in the corner of the room with his helm, the jet looked sullen.

Smokescreen shrugged, "Dunno. Whatever it is, it's his problem." Bumblebee gave him a look and grabbed his cube, getting up. "Hey, what'd I say?" The yellow bot ignored him and went over to the solitary mech, taking a seat across from him.

"I've learned from Raf that when someone sits alone in the cafeteria at school, it usually isn't for a good reason." Bumblebee prodded.

Seven gave him a look, "It depends on one's personality, however, this is hardly a human school."

"Same principles apply." The yellow scout added, watching Smokescreen get up and come over to sit next to him.

"Next time, Bee, try to ditch me a bit more subtly."

Bumblebee smiled and nodded, "Thanks for the tip. Sev, want some energon?"

"Pass. What are you doing?"

"We're just hanging out, things are pretty slow around here for once. Optimus and Bulkhead are off on recon, and Ratchet and Maggie are doing boring technical stuff. Something wrong?" Smokescreen said, watching him through the corner of his optics as he took a drink.

"I'm jet-lagged." He replied with a forced-looking yawn.

"Oh." The younger mech snickered.

Seven frowned at him, "What's so funny?"

"A jet getting jet-lagged?"

Bumblebee chuckled too. Said jet rolled his optics, "Yes, you two can have your fun. Now, Bee, remind me, who got a two minute head start, and who else won the race?"

"It wasn't fair," the yellow mech argued lamely.

Wheeljack came over to the table and sat next to Seven, who scooted away, "I'd like to see you beat the Jackhammer."

Seven raised an eyebrow, "Am I being challenged? By a ground vehicle, who somehow thinks his ship superior to me?"

The Wrecker smirked, "You bet."

Bumblebee took a closer look at the Seeker when he wasn't looking, "You don't seem to be jet-lagged."

For a moment, a flicker of fear flashed across the jet's faceplates, but it was gone just as quickly. He cleared his vocalizer and stood, "Maybe I will get a cube."

Wheeljack stood too, "Sit tight, I'll do it for you. I was going to get a refill anyway."

Seven sat back down, examining the tips of his talons. "Suit yourself."

A few other bots got up and followed the Wrecker to refill their own cubes with medium grade energon. The white mech refilled his, then tucked it under his left arm and grabbed an empty cube, filling it under a different tap.

Wheeljack leaned over and whispered in Bumblebee's and Smokescreen's audials, "What do you say about taking his edge off?" He jerked his helm at the silver mech behind them, oblivious.

Bumblebee shrugged, trying to suppress a smirk and the two looked to Smokescreen. The white mech shrugged too, "Sounds fun, but what would Optimus say?"

"Ah, but the Big 'O' isn't here," Knock Out added, grabbing a cube of his own over the bot's shoulder plating, "But I must confess, the last time wasn't terribly gratifying to watch."

"Ah, watch what?" Seven asked as they went back over. Wheeljack slid the silver mech's cube to him over the table and the Seeker grasped it, nodding in thanks.

"Oh, you won't remember it." The red mech replied, waving a servo.

Seven's expression darkened and he looked slightly shamefaced, which was a first. "What did you tell them?"

"Nothing, yet."

"Well now you have to tell us!" Smokescreen burst out, giving the bot beside him a push.

"Watch the finish!" Knock Out exclaimed, slapping his servo away. "All I was referring to was the time when Megatron interrogated him…" he trailed off at the look Seven was giving him.

"When?" Bumblebee asked.

The Seeker's wings drooped and he took a long drink from his cube, swirling it thoughtfully, "There's no avoiding it, is there? It wasn't too long ago, shortly after we fought to retrieve the Omega Key… Egypt, was it?" Bumblebee nodded, "Well, we battled and he brought me up to the Nemesis for questioning."

Smokescreen covered his optics. "So that's how Megsy found out where our base was!"

Seven slumped, "Well, not exactly… I must not have spilled anything, so Megatron put a cortical psychic patch into my helm and found out that way."

"What do you mean, you don't remember?" Bumblebee asked.

"Of course he doesn't," Knock Out said hurriedly so the Seeker couldn't cut him off, "long story short, Megatron got him hammered in hopes of coaxing the location of our old base out of him."

"The fact of the matter is that it didn't work," Seven argued haughtily, "I know I don't have much of a tolerance for high grade, but what was I to do? Megatron could have terminated me! Would have, I imagine!"

Wheeljack, Bumblebee, and Smokescreen exchanged a look. It would've been hilarious had it not sounded so dire.

"What now?" Arcee drawled, pouring herself a cube of medium grade energon and came over, joining the others.

"We're just talking about a time about when a certain Seeker got wasted," Wheeljack smirked, "It's pretty entertaining."

"Not for me!" Said jet burst out, scowling, and took a drink from his cube in an attempt to stall the conversation.

"We can talk about something else, like, aside from drunk jets…" Smokescreen trailed off, receiving a few halfhearted chuckles.

"How about this," Arcee began, looking to Seven, "it's been niggling me, besides you and Dreadwing, why haven't I seen any more Seekers? I thought Megatron's army would be chock-full of you, no offense."

The Seeker's wings fluttered and he took a drink before responding, thinking it over while staring down into his cube. He looked up and leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms behind his helm. "Seekers like myself were common before the war, but generally speaking, we aren't the best of fighters…" he let a confident smirk grace his faceplates, "myself exempted, of course." Arcee rolled her optics. "To my knowledge, many were killed or simply went missing over the course of the war."

"I'm sorry," Bumblebee said.

Seven waved a servo, "Oh, don't be. It is unfortunate that our race, the Seekers, that is, is dwindling, but once we restore and reclaim Cybertron—" he downed the last of his cube, "—with a bit of luck, we'll become populous once again."

Wheeljack finished off his own and grabbed Seven's too, "Want some more?" he shook it, sending a few blue droplets flying.

The jet shrugged, "I don't see why not."

The Wrecker glanced back over his shoulder, "Speakin' of, what's up with Scream? When I saw him earlier, he didn't seem to be doing so hot."

"He died," Seven said bluntly, downcast.

Wheeljack blinked, "Oh."

"Sort-of." The Seeker added, tracing a finger over a ridge in the table. He slipped and gave up, looking up to meet the white mech's incredulous expression. "I brought him back, using the cyber-matter in the Omega Lock."

Wheeljack tossed him the cube, "Think fast."

Seven tried to catch it but fumbled and the cube fell onto the table, beginning to spill out. He hastily snatched it up and took a choking drink to make sure it wouldn't spill again. "Sorry, heh…" he trailed off and wiped at it, wings fluttering, "I'm not usually clumsy."

Knock Out took a sip from his own cube, "Hmm… that isn't really an uplifting topic. I know: what's the worst thing about Earth?"

"As if that's any better. Why do you ask?" Arcee drawled, raising an eyebrow.

He shrugged, "So we all have good reasons to tell the humans we're leaving for Cybertron. I need ideas."

Seven laughed sharply, "Oh, that's a good one! I'll think on it…" he smirked, "just gimme a minute."

Bumblebee swirled his cube, "War."

"Uh, Bee? War isn't just Earth's thing, in case you've forgotten." Smokescreen pointed out.

Seven unsheathed Valor from its place on his thruster, gripping its crossguard to negate the speed boost it bestowed. "I didn't have Megatron make this for nothin'," he said, twirling it in a few circles.

"Whoa, Sev. Could you not do that near me?" Wheeljack cut in, raising his servo. "I kinda like having all my limbs, but I can't speak for the others."

The Seeker sheathed it, nearly taking off half of the red crest on his helm in the process. "You aren't fun," he pouted dramatically.

"We'll see." the Wrecker's optics glinted mischievously.

The scout looked to the other white mech, "Smoke, I know that war exists outside of Earth. But just because it's elsewhere doesn't mean it's not also an earthly thing."

The white mech's optics seemed to say suit yourself. "Well, mine's speed limits."

Knock Out nodded, "We should have lunch sometime… oh, wait!" he clapped a servo to his helm, eliciting a couple snorts.

Seven chuckled, flapping his wings smugly and crossed his arms, becoming more animated. "At least I don't have to contend with h-human traffic laws."

"Oh, Mr. High-And-Mighty, then what's yours? Air traffic? Birds?" Arcee gave him a look and took a sip from her own cube.

Seven struggled with his thoughts for a moment, "Ah… oh, I know: SAMs."

"What?" Knock Out, Smokescreen, and Wheeljack asked in unison. The others looked similarly stumped.

"Surface-to-air missiles. A nasty invention, one of the lows of humanity." He said, donning a serious expression.

"Is he joking?" Smokescreen whispered to Knock Out. The red mech shook his helm vigorously, and the room erupted in laughter.

Seven slapped the red mech's shoulder, grinning, "Course I'm joking, you slagger! 'Cee, what about you?"

"Can I only pick one?" She smirked, "I can't decide. Laggy Wi-Fi, probably."

"I'm with you on that," Wheeljack agreed. "Can't get anything done."

"Tell me about it!" Knock Out exclaimed, "I try to post a picture to Instagram, and then poof! No Internet!"

Seven rolled his optics, making sure he saw. "Oh, what a tragedy, dear d-doctor. Whatever happened to robots in disguise?"

"I didn't say they were of me," the red mech countered. "And you would know, you were plastered to every headline within a thousand miles of Los Angeles when you crashed into that building!"

Seven rolled his optics and chuckled, turning to Wheeljack. "You must keep the high-speed Internet to yourself on the Jackhammer, am I right or what?"

The Wrecker smirked, "Maybe. How about you go find out? She's parked right outside this wreck."

The Seeker smirked, "Maybe I'll take you up on your earlier challenge, and the w-winner earns faster Wi-Fi."

"So you can do what, purchase a life off of eBay?" Arcee rolled her optics.

"Remind us?" Bumblebee asked, exchanging a glance with Smokescreen.

"Racing the Jackhammer." Wheeljack clarified. Seven got out of his seat and went back over to refill his energon cube, using the same tap the Wrecker had.

Ultra Magnus entered the mess hall and suddenly it was like the room's temperature noticeably dipped. Wheeljack frowned.

"Sir," Arcee greeted.

Seven wheeled around, trying to keep his cube under the tap. "General," he inclined his sleek helm in a gentle nod.

"Soldier," Magnus returned the gesture, and took up a spot behind the slender mech. The Seeker finished with the and turned it off with a sharp twist of the lever on the spout. He went back over to the others, weaving slightly with each step. Several bots' nervous optics fell onto the drink in the Seeker's servo. They all knew Magnus would deeply disapprove of their actions, and Seven already had a couple cubes of high grade in him without realizing it. But all they could do was watch and wait, hoping that Magnus would either miss it entirely or simply leave before he could. The slight mech sipped gently from the cube, unaware of the silent exchange.

"Sir," Wheeljack piped up, wishing to divert his attention, "what brings you here? I thought you and Ratch were busy."

"The doctor suggested that I vacate his presence in order to improve his concentration in his studies." The blue mech replied, leaving his drink untouched. "Might I ask what is happening here?"

Everyone that was looking at Seven immediately stopped doing it.

"We're just hanging out," Smokescreen finally said. Magnus looked slightly dubious, but let it lie.

Wheeljack jumped in, seizing the moment. "Sir, Sev and I were planning on going for a little flight, to see who's faster and all that." The white mech got up, making it clear to the Seeker that he meant now.

Seven glanced up at the white mech, drained about half of his cube at once and stood, grinning while still holding it. He held it high in a tipsy toast, "I'll indulge you, Jackie, b-but as far as I'm concerned, I already won."

Suddenly there were three bots standing. "Soldiers," Magnus addressed the other two, "I will not tolerate riffraff from former Decepticons or deserters in this army, and that includes racing where the native population could easily view you."

"With all due respect, sir," Wheeljack retorted, "we're nowhere near the native population, and I wasn't asking for your permission."

"I don't recall giving it to you," Magnus replied cooly. "Neither of you will be racing the other, is that understood?"

"What's the h-harm in it?" Seven asked, giving him a mock salute. "My alt mode looks… uh, like an Earth jet."

The blue mech's optics widened then narrowed, "Soldier," he stated gruffly, "you will not be going anywhere but straight to Optimus Prime."

Seven raised his cube cautiously, but Ultra Magnus knocked it out of his grasp and it clattered to the table, spilling the meager amount that remained. The Seeker reached for it instinctively and the blue mech grabbed his wrist.

"You don't need any more of that." He rumbled.

Seven's euphoria evaporated and he scrabbled at thes larger mech's grip, "Lemme go! I didn' do anything wr-wrong!"

Ultra Magnus looked into his optics; the jet's defenses were mostly down and he knew Seven believed what he was saying. He released the jet, who took several nervous steps back and watched the blue mech warily. The Seeker brushed off his arms, a slight wobble in his posture.

"Has Optimus returned yet?" Arcee asked, raising an eyebrow at Magnus, trying to change the subject.

"Seven can wait if he has not. He will not be going anywhere but to Optimus." The larger mech gave the Seeker a disdainful glare.

Seven returned the look, "I still dunno what the slag this's all about."

Ultra Magnus looked around sternly, asserting a stronger air of authority. "Would any of you care to explain?"

Bumblebee cleared his throat and smiled apologetically at the jet, grabbing his attention. "Sorry, Sev. You should probably do what Ultra Magnus says; you're drunk."

The Seeker's mouth opened then closed, and he leaned on the table for support. "What! So that's your excuse to g-get me out of here, is it?"

Wheeljack got up too and went over to the Seeker, putting an arm around his shoulder plates to steady him, which wasn't necessary. "I hate to say it, but Bee's not wrong, Sevvie. I'll take you to Optimus."

Seven pushed him away, nearly losing his balance in the process and his wings flared out to steady himself. "I can walk!"

Ultra Magnus stood straighter, "I suggest that you all escort him to our leader, so each of you can deliver your own explanation for why he is overcharged in the middle of the day."

Wheeljack gave him a disrespectful look, "I think that's overkill, sir. Besides, you can't order us around, we're on our lunch breaks. We were just having a bit of fun, what's the harm in it?"

"It is not up for debate, soldier." The general rumbled, frowning at the Wrecker.

The others exchanged a look and followed the duo out of the mess hall, abandoning their energon.

The world was spinning slowly on a single axis, sliding back a few feet every once in awhile only to twirl again. Overhead, the lights were too bright, sometimes gently expanding or contracting in my slightly blurred vision.

The floor twisted beneath me without warning. I stumbled over my own pedes, and groped at the not-so-helpful air for balance, fanning my wings.

"Careful, Sev. These floors are hard." Wheeljack chucked from behind me.

"I blame y-you for this, Wheeljack." I growled, steadying myself against the wall. "It's not my… uh, my fault tha' I'm a featherweight!"

Laughter bounced around the hallway behind me. "We're not judging you, Sevvie." Smokescreen's voice assured, still chuckling.

"Yeah," Knock Out agreed, suppressing a laugh. He whispered to the others and I somehow caught it, "Did you see Magnus' faceplates when he got a second look at him?! HA! I'd give up a week's worth of energon to see that again!"

I spun around to confront the red mech and wound up staggering into him as the floor lurched beneath me. "Easy!" He exclaimed, "Primus, discounting that interrogation, I haven't seen you like this in forever!"

"St-Starscream," I corrected, scowling at myself as nausea made my tank roll. I stepped backwards, measuring each one carefully so I didn't slip and make even more of a fool of myself. "I've never been like this in forever."

Wheeljack clapped me on my thruster between my wings, "What do you say, you still up for a little race?"

I grinned, glad to think about something else. "Like you wouldn' believe. I'm the best flier there is, did you know that?"

Arcee came up beside me, "Uh, mechs? This idea might've had some merit earlier, but if you go flying now, Seven could crash." she enunciated.

"I said I'm the b-best!" I enunciated. "Stah graduated top of his class at the Cybertron War Ac-Academy, but I 'spect you don' get it. Flying is better than, uh, anything! Well," my brow creased in thought, "almost anything…" The others looked a bit uncomfortable, but my vision was still fuzzy and I couldn't be sure. "C'mon," I tottered onward, but reached a two-way intersection and stopped. "Uh… which way?"

The white mech led the way, taking a left. I followed with a weaving gait, somehow feeling less steady than I had earlier. Or did I? I frowned in concentration: even my reference frames were out of whack. And how exactly had I not noticed that I was overcharged before Bumblebee pointed it out?

"Well, I'll jus' have to pull through…" I muttered to myself.

Soon enough, we were outside. The sunlight was blinding enough that I had to shield my faceplates with my arms from the glaring rays. I turned around, lowering them enough to find that it was just Wheeljack and I now. How had I missed everyone else leaving? And why, why did it have to be high grade?

"You ready?" He asked, leaning against the Jackhammer's white hull.

I transformed, resting on my landing gear as the world did a rapid turn. "Yeah…" I felt ill, but the feeling was pushed down by the euphoric thought of taking to the skies.

He went into his ship and shortly after, it rose into the air just as several bots charged out of the Harbinger, Optimus included.

"Seven, transform!" The Prime urged. "Do not take off!"

Oh, what do you know? I thought, and jetted into the air. The ground fell away beneath me and the bots on it shrank to insects. Wheeljack's ship materialized next to me and we stopped in midair by some unspoken agreement.

"On three: one…" the Wrecker began to count off, "two…"

My comm pinged and I automatically answered it. Wheeljack, noticing my momentary distraction, paused in his countdown. "Seven, what you are doing places you and even Wheeljack in grave peril." Optimus' voice warned, "Please, do not trust your own judgement. Land, do not try to–" I switched the link off and did a corkscrew for good measure. The sky and ground sloshed together, swirling into a brownish-blue smoothie before separating again as I leveled out. Wheeljack apparently took my sudden motion as a cue to get the show on the road and the Jackhammer blasted forwards, buffeting me sideways. I fell into an uncontrolled barrel roll and my tank dropped. The dizziness was bad enough that it became a challenge to bring some semblance of order to my thoughts through the high grade's effects.

I twisted around in the air and adjusted my ailerons, which did the trick. Once I was fairly certain which way was up once again, I raced off after the Jackhammer. I was still high enough to not have to worry about rocky outcroppings, but the world sometimes careened to one side. When that happened, I skidded through the sky towards the hard ground like a tether was jerking me down in an unpredictable ocean current.

Gritting my denta, I sped up, closing in on Wheeljack's ship. I was a knife cleaving the air, held by someone with a slippery grip. The Jackhammer swerved left abruptly, diving. In a struggle to keep up, I executed the same maneuver but overshot and entered a tight barrel roll. I tried to straighten myself out this time, but I veered far to the right, and the world suddenly was spinning in a way I couldn't control.

"Hey, Sevvie? You all right?" Wheeljack's voice crackled over my comm. "You're flying like you're flirting with death over there."

Everything was happening so fast, like my clock was skipping every other tick. The air weighed heavily on my wings and I tried to slow my descent with my flaps, only managing to flip myself end-over-end. The sun whirled around me, it was so bright, glaringly so, like it was trying to use its gravity to whip me off the planet and into space. My tank tugged as I felt the familiar feeling of freefall and I finally got control of my spin, adjusting my flaps the right way.

"The sky's too slippery," I slurred, beginning to panic, "I can' hold onto it…"

The ground was coming up so fast, was it supposed to do that? It looked very solid but was inflating like a balloon, rushing up to meet me. Voices were shouting and vehicles transformed into bots beneath me, horror and shock on their upturned faceplates. I tried to make out exactly who was who, but my vision swam with shapeless blobs that distorted everything they passed through.

A white blur passed beside me and I let my wheels pop out of my fuselage: I was in for a landing. The blur smashed into me and pulled up hard, also pulling several g's. My right wing was hooked on it and I was jerked upwards as the blobs coalesced on the edges of my vision, growing larger and blacker. It seemed that we were falling upwards in slow motion.

"Whee—!" I squealed ecstatically before the world dissolved.