XXXVI - Questions
A few hours later…
Ratchet leaned closer to the screen in front of his faceplates, performing a manual check of Starscream's systems. It wasn't necessary because the machines hooked up to the Seeker did it automatically and constantly, but it put the medic at ease, providing the illusion that he was doing something productive. However, it soon was clear that nothing had changed with the mech.
He let out a sigh, "Just another day…" but the Seeker's clone stirred on the berth beside him. "Seven?" Ratchet asked quietly, going over to his side. Optimus sat next to silver mech and leaned forwards, setting his servo on top of the Seeker's.
Seven's fingers twitched and his mouth opened slightly, then his optics came online at a dim setting. He blinked, meeting the red mech's warm gaze.
"How are you feeling?" the Prime asked with concern painted over his faceplates.
Seven pushed himself into a sitting position while running a quick systems check, looking bleary and confused. "Never better, just tired…" he trailed off, brow creasing, "I'm hardly surprised to find myself here once again… but, heh, what happened, dare I ask?"
Ratchet ran a rag over one of his tools, "Try to remember."
The Seeker took that in silence and began sifting through his drives for his most recent memories. "Hm, we were having lunch and talking about nothing in particular. I think it was Knock Out who asked us of what we dislike most about this planet…" he checked another couple files before continuing, "let's see, I said mine was surface-to-air missiles, which is mostly true." he added, smirking and wings flitting. "The others got a kick out of that. The young doctor and Arcee mentioned something about Wi-Fi, but I think the femme was jesting." I frowned in thought, "Wheeljack wanted me to race him, and I did, except the air felt heavy and I was light… or maybe it was the other way around… Primus—I couldn't control myself." Seven nervously clenched a fist and opened it, moving his fingers individually to make sure they obeyed his commands.
"You tell him," Ratchet said to the Prime. "I will go find Wheeljack, so I can stick a wrench in his audial."
Optimus nodded. Seven raised an eyebrow expectantly. "Well?"
"Wheeljack gave you a bit too much high grade, and then proceeded to challenge you to race his ship in the air." The red mech said. The jet let it sink in and a tremble ran through his frame.
"I–I crashed, didn't I?" Seven whimpered.
The Prime smiled sadly, "You would have. Wheeljack used the Jackhammer to catch you in a maneuver that many other bots would not have been able to pull off. You are very lucky."
The small Seeker wore a look like a bird that had just fallen from its nest and had no idea how to get back up. "This is my fault, I know I can't handle high grade." He stood on the other side of the berth, facing away from the Prime and rubbed his arms. "I should never have touched that cube in the first place, I don't even know how many I had!"
Optimus stood as well and went over to the Seeker, bending to bring himself level with his faceplates. "Seven," he said gently, "it is not your fault. Wheeljack made a poor decision and the others should not have let him get you overcharged, certainly not to have raced him."
"You can't just blame everything on him," Seven countered, wings low. "I should have paid more attention to what I had been doing… that way, this mess wouldn't have happened in the first place."
"As an Autobot, have you ever had any reason to distrust Wheeljack?" Optimus asked. "It was not your fault, do not hold yourself accountable. You cannot be judged for your actions because you did not know what you were doing, and it was not your intent to be in that state."
He thinks I was more inebriated than I actually was, Seven realized. "I… I knew what I was doing," he choked on the words, "I just failed to recognize the consequences of my actions…" he trailed off, wings sinking further as he sat back down onto the berth.
"Prime is right, Sev." Wheeljack's voice startled the Seeker, and its owner entered the room. "I did save your tail fins, but this one's on me. I was just having a bit of fun, 'cept I didn't think you'd nosedive. Sorry."
Seven's wings snapped up. "It was hardly enjoyable on my end. 'Sorry' doesn't quite cut it."
"You said yourself that you're the best flier there is, and what's the harm in a little race?"
The Seeker's mouth ran dry. "I… my judgement was impaired! I didn't think I would nosedive either, yet here we are."
"You feelin' better?" The Wrecker asked after a moment of silence. "The others are worried, but the doc hasn't let them in here. He must've thought it'd be humiliating for you, but now there's a bunch of rumors flying around. The docs just wheeled you back inside and locked the doors."
"How considerate of him. You wouldn't believe the number of times I've woken up on a med berth without knowing how I got there," the silver mech muttered, "it's been getting old. To answer your question: yes, I'm fine. Well, I am better than I was. Ah, where exactly is everyone else?"
Optimus smiled, "We're glad that you did not sustain any injuries." The red mech went over and opened the doors Wheeljack had come in through, and Seven craned his neck cables to see. Every other Autobot was there, the humans included, even Magnus stood at the threshold, surprisingly. Only Fowler wasn't present.
Ratchet shouldered his way in through the small crowd of bots, careful to not tread on any of the humans. "There is hardly room to intake in here, let alone bend one's elbows." The medic complained gruffly. The others filtered in behind him, keeping a cautious distance from the humans. They all saw the Seeker sitting on the edge of the berth, looking overwhelmed.
"What's this?" he asked quietly, a faint smile flickering on his faceplates.
Bumblebee spoke up first, "Ratch wouldn't let us in. We all thought you were injured or worse…"
"You didn't bring flowers," Seven pouted.
"So… you're not hurt?" Bulkhead asked.
The Seeker huffed and got off the berth, "The only thing of mine that's been wounded is my pride," he frowned at Wheeljack.
The Wrecker raised his servos apologetically, "Hey, I said I was sorry."
"'Sorry' doesn't save lives," Seven argued haughtily.
"Quick thinking does," the white mech countered.
The silver mech scowled, "I've had enough." With that, he transformed and shot out of the ship into open air before anyone could protest. Might as well go scout for energon to make myself useful, he thought, frowning to himself. Our reserves are running low again as it is, with all the fighting of late.
Airachnid transformed and landed silently on the uppermost deck of the Nemesis, which was more of a landing strip than anything else. She strode forwards slowly, taking control of the mind of an Insecticon aboard the warship, and checked its memories to confirm her suspicions.
"Bring him to me," the black femme purred.
Belowdecks, a lone Insecticon entered the medical bay, half of which had become Shockwave's lab. The purple cyclops himself was nowhere to be found, the Insecticon noticed as his gaze settled upon the only other mech in the room.
"CYLAS," he growled in the garbled tones of his species.
The mangled blue mech's working optic watched him warily. "What… do you want… from me?"
"My queen wants to speak with you in person," the Insecticon growled, and broke the heavy cuffs binding the blue mech's wrists and ankles to the berth with ease. CYLAS, dumbfounded, got off the berth and flexed his fist, feeling rushing back into his limbs.
He looked up at the Insecticon, "You won't be taking me anywhere." The scarred mech activated his shoulder cannon and shot the him in the faceplates with a blast of plasma. He did it a couple more times just to be sure the bug was dead, and rushed out of the med bay.
No sooner than the doors had closed behind the blue mech, six Insecticons charged him. CYLAS transformed, a feeling that was still strange to him, and wheeled around, shooting down the opposite hallway. From another branching off to his right, more Insecticons flooded into the hallway, cutting him off.
The blue mech transformed back into his bot mode and raised his fists, powering up his shoulder cannon. But soon enough, he was overwhelmed by the Insecticons' sheer numbers even though they weren't harming him.
Yet.
"CYLAS…" Airachnid trailed off, positioning one of the tips of her Insecticon legs under his neck cables, "I believe we had a deal, in which you and I would work together and split the spoils."
"That was a long time ago, Airachnid, and even then, it was only until the arrangement no longer was mutually beneficial," the blue mech argued.
"Then why duck out when it wasn't?" She asked innocently, circling him like a cat toying with its prey.
"MECH had other resources to pursue," he replied cooly.
"Such as what? Or should I say whom?" The black femme pried.
"Ask Starscream or Breakdown."
"I suggest you answer me, because I would enjoy tearing you apart more than I did with him,"she purred acidly.
CYLAS hadn't expected that. "You were the one who… dismantled Breakdown."
She gave him a sweet smile, "But it seems that I gave you a new life through taking his, Silas."
"What do you want from me?" He growled, eyeing the femme.
Her Insecticon legs transformed away and she stood on two pedes again, her back facing the disfigured mech. "Oh, not much. What did you mention about that flighty Seeker?"
Nothing yet, CYLAS thought to himself.
"I caught a glimpse of a grave outside the Autobots' base, and it appears that dear Starscream will not be flying anywhere."
"That was MECH's doing." The blue mech gave her a look.
She smirked, "Getting your hands on Breakdown's remains wasn't enough for you, was it?"
"Air superiority would be a giant leap forward for MECH. Out of all you Cybertronians with flight capabilities, MECH has had the opportunity to see what made Starscream tick. But why," he growled, "are you here for me?"
She gave him a sideways look, "Oh, I'm not here for you. I'm here for Megatron, and unless if I am mistaken, you will join me and my Insecticons to repay him for what he has done to us."
"Take me to Starscream's chassis and then we have a deal."
"I can take you to his five clones, but what will I get out of it?" The black femme purred, examining the tips of her talons.
The disfigured blue mech drew himself up, commanding her attention. "Four more capable, highly-trained soldiers and eight sets of guns to point at Megatron."
Airachnid pretended to consider it. "If, for a second I thought that we needed more of Starscream and didn't have enough of an army already, I might have considered it. Besides, he was always so flighty, so flashy, with nothing beneath the surface. Always like a little moth: flitting around aimlessly and flirting with death."
"Then why enlist my help?" CYLAS countered.
"We share a common goal," the spider replied cooly, "and my Insecticons are mere puppets. If something were to happen to me, their queen, they would heed Megatron's every word."
The blue mech digested that. "My men will follow my orders regardless."
"Your point?" She prodded.
"We can catch Megatron with his guard down, and we have an advantage already: he knows Starscream is offline and in no way will expect us."
"An intriguing proposal," she hummed. "Follow me."
CYLAS glanced at one of the tires on his chassis, "How, exactly?"
A pair of Insecticons stepped up behind him.
"What's up, doc?" Smokescreen asked, leaning forwards on a table. "You're keeping us waiting."
"Smoke's just impatient," Arcee gave the white mech a disapproving look. "Take your time."
Ratchet scrolled through a few medical records, and selected one, pulling up a picture of a familiar silver Seeker. "While Seven was unconscious, I conducted a handful of minor scans of his systems, just for high grade concentration, actuator coordination, I'm sure you get the idea. However, when I overlapped the data, I discovered that there is a large anomaly surrounding—perhaps even within his very spark."
"Have you determined what it is?" Ultra Magnus asked.
"No," Ratchet frowned, "and because it appears to occupy a portion of his spark, I cannot tamper with it without facing potentially dire consequences."
"Wait, back up. You said a second ago that it's around his spark, now you're saying it's inside of the thing?" Bulkhead exclaimed, confusion clouding his features.
Knock Out leaned over the other medic's shoulder plate, "Sure seems that way from here. It's inside his spark, almost appears to be a… part… of… it…" the red mech trailed off, staring at the screen in astonishment.
"What?" Several bots asked in unison.
"Call him back here. We need perform further scans on his spark and its chamber." Knock Out declared. "If this is what I think it is…"
"What is it?" Arcee pried.
"I can't say without further evidence," he answered vaguely.
"Answer her, doctor." Ultra Magnus said firmly.
"I said I can't," Knock Out persisted.
"Uh, are we going to tell him about this, whatever it is?" Bumblebee asked, looking to Optimus.
"I think we should hold off until we know more, then break it to him." Arcee stated, crossing her arms.
"What's it doing?" Wheeljack asked, glancing at Ratchet. "I mean, it isn't hurting him, so why not just leave the thing?"
"The virus Starscream contracted didn't appear to be harming him at the beginning either," Ratchet countered. "Whatever is inside Seven's spark may have yet to afflict him if it has a progressive nature."
"Can you find out if it does?" Oliver asked, wringing his hands.
"Hence the scans," Arcee reasoned, raising a servo while looking to the pair of doctors.
The white medic nodded, "Arcee is correct, but to answer Bumblebee, no. Telling Seven this now will only strain him, and I do need to gather more information on the integrity of his spark while doing so without raising alarm."
"Doc, I think he can take it." Bulkhead huffed. "Sev's been through a lot, and most wasn't pretty." His optics fell onto Starscream's comatose form, sustained by an army of machines, "I think that Pit would be a vacation for what he's been through. Besides, we don't even know if it's something bad yet, right?"
All heads and helms turned to the green mech. "He has a point," Will agreed.
"Please, elaborate," Optimus requested.
The boy came forwards, "I mean, Ratch, you stitched him back from pieces when we got that sliver of Megatron's metal, and he's still fighting. Ollie and I've been with him longer than any of you have, and I know he hasn't given up. It's not too hard to see that he's fighting for Starscream." Everyone looked to the supine jet. "Scream called him his brother before he died, I can't imagine what that must've been like for Sev."
Silence reigned for a few long seconds, then Miko and Oliver started clapping. Will awarded the pair a deep, sarcastic bow.
"You make a strong argument," Ultra Magnus acknowledged, "but until we know what is is, precisely, withholding this information is in the unit's best interest."
"Agreed," Optimus nodded, asserting himself, "we will not cause Seven grief when there may not be a real reason for it."
"Each of you heard the general," Magnus said, radiating a familiar air of authority, "no one is to breathe a word of this to the Seeker."
A few bots and humans grumbled to themselves. "One person can keep a secret, but not two. And there are how many of us here? Someone's bound to let something slip eventually," Jack pointed out. Ultra Magnus gave him a stern look and the boy raised his hands, "Hey, I'm just saying."
"Jack's right," Bumblebee agreed, "but we don't need to hide it from him forever."
"Yeah," Smokescreen jumped in, "once Ratch here gets those scans done, we can spill the beans."
Said medic met the other white mech's optics, "I hope so."
"Airachnid!" I exclaimed under my vocalizer, dumbfounded, watching as the black femme transformed a couple hundred meters in front of me. She landed more gracefully than the swarm of Insecticons behind her did, two of which carried what looked like…
"CYLAS, we have arrived."
"I failed to notice," the blue mech remarked sarcastically, dropping out of the Insecticons' grip and landed on the ground in a puff of dust and leaves. "Where are they?"
The spider swept her gaze around and I shrunk back, watching her warily from behind a few trees, not quite processing what was happening. Last I checked, Breakdown was mounted on Silas' wall like some grotesque trophy, and Airachnid was locked up in our base—the one I reduced to rubble—in stasis in a similar fashion. We surmised that she had perished in the explosion, however, apparently the stasis pod encapsulating her was strong enough to withstand the blast.
We should have gone back and checked the site, no doubt. Slag, I was there, I should have known. But after finding "Optimus" in the rubble, it was just too much. And Airachnid had called Breakdown something… CYLAS.
"Silas…" different name, different body, but the same twisted person. "You survived, and are working with that glitch?" It didn't seem that insane of an idea, once I got over the fact that they both should be dead. It was a complete slap in the faceplates. Speaking of… this was the very place where we had battled the femme and her armada of Insecticons all those months ago, and where my fellow brethren perished in the fray. Before departing, we had "buried" them just past the mouth of the cave, a rushed affair because there were injuries that needed to be tended to and the clones hadn't lived more than an hour or two. We had laid Two to rest with them, it even though he had attacked Starscream. I was grateful that my double hadn't viewed me to be as expendable as them.
"Fan out," Airachnid ordered the Insecticons, "find their chassis and bring them to me."
"The other clones?" I breathed, slowly unsheathing Valor from its place between my wings. The action was more to grant me a feeling of security than anything, there was no way that I would be able to take them all on at once, unless if I had the Spark Extractor.
"Queen," an Insecticon called, mandibles clicking. My tank dropped: it had found the other clones.
Airachnid supposedly issued a mental order for the other Insecticons to stay behind and approached the mouth of the cave with CYLAS in tow. A few Insecticons went over and dragged the five chassis out into the light, and it wasn't a pretty sight.
The blue mech was deeply aggravated, "You told me that you would bring me to Starscream's clones, not this trash heap!"
My servos balled into fists.
"CYLAS," Airachnid purred, facing him. "I never said they would be intact, what did you expect?" She turned away and shook her helm lightly, "You humans are always just so feeble-minded."
The scarred mech growled, "I expected chassis that would not require assembly."
My comm link suddenly pinged. I answered it out of instinct, hissing, "What is it? I am in the middle of something here!"
"Seven, please return to the base." Optimus said. "Ratchet wishes you to perform something for him."
"Prime, please, have Smokescreen or Wheeljack, just someone else do it for him."
"We cannot do that."
"What can you do?" I snapped.
"Seven, you will return to base. I shall send a ground bridge." He commanded.
My wings flared up, "No! Wait–I can explain!"
The link cut out, and suddenly I realized that I had been talking in a tone much louder than a whisper.
Airachnid send an Insecticon over to investigate, and it was almost upon me. I loathed the idea of leaving my five brethren at the servos of these desecrators, but I had no choice. I sprang straight up into the air and transformed, catching a glimpse of the other clones' chassis. I gulped and entered a vertical climb, pushing my thruster.
"Do not pursue him, we have what we need…" Airachnid's voice faded away.
A/N: Seven needs bug spray.