Ratchet harrumphed and looked sidelong at Inferno. "When's the last time you beat Ultra Magnus' helm in? In a medical capacity, of course."

They were both of them in the med bay, examining the damage on the bent halberd shaft and blunted energon swords that Ultra Magnus and Optimus Prime had dropped off for repair.

"It's been a while; he's probably overdue," Inferno deadpanned. "Lately, I let Lancer do my dirty work for me." Looking more closely at the particular piece that was bent, he added, "I might have to use the engine of the Iron Will to fix this shaft. I don't know if anything human-built can get hot enough for Cybertronium."

"Just between us, I jury rigged a fission-based setup that will soften it enough to make it workable. You just have to use it at Boomtown under the excuse of 'experimental weaponry.' The human leadership doesn't get all that excited about properly stocking the med bay, but they give me pretty free rein if they think I'm trying to blow up Decepticons."

Inferno chuckled. "What a bizarre planet. Have you heard Beachcomber go on about it?"

"No, he's pretty quiet around me."

"He was enthusing about it to Lancer and Blaster for the first couple of days. I guess it takes a geologist to appreciate getting mud, sand, and salinated water on your finish all at once."

"Yeah," Ratchet huffed, "not so fun if that mix gets into a wound. Nearly killed Sunstreaker when he first arrived," Ratchet answered. "Also, it looks like there's an opening on the schedule for Boomtown this afternoon. I've put us down for it." Crossing his arms, he asked, "You've been here a few weeks now. What do you think is the biggest overlap between Cybertronians and humans?"

"They're primitive enough that it's the differences I've noticed most." Inferno shrugged and then tilted his helm, considering. "We both have verbal, mathematical, musical, and even spiritual intelligence, though admittedly to varying degrees. We both tend toward curiosity. They have social structures not too unlike clans, though without bonds, of course."

"With one notable exception."

"With one processor-blowing exception," Inferno corrected.

Ratchet smirked and nodded in acknowledgment. "Anything else?"

"Anything specific you're looking for?"

"Not really. It's just nice to have another medical mind to kick ideas around with."

Inferno grimaced and looked down.

"Problem?"

Inferno shook his helm and then, changing his mind, raised it to meet Ratchet's gaze. "I was the Autobots' last medic on Cybertron. Not that I was the best, but I could do some good at least. Now…there's no one. I'm here and … It's not just that I'll be doing something as menial as mining; I don't mind that part. But…I'm needed there. My skills are needed there. And I'm not needed here." With a half-smile, he gestured Ratchet's way, "Not when the Prime's medic is present."

"Why'd you come, then?" Ratchet asked.

Inferno snorted in grim amusement. "Ever the tactful one." He paused for a moment, gathering his thoughts. "I came because we didn't know what we'd find here. We thought Arcee had been caught and killed by Decepticons. We had no way to know that you were still online, much less training human helpers. For all we knew I was the last Autobot medic anywhere. Cybertron is dead now; those still online are clinging to life, but they won't be able to much longer. Even in stasis, the Autobots there won't last more than three or four centuries. Ultra Magnus is convinced that Earth is the last front that matters, the only place where we might be able to make a difference. He talked me into coming along, saying that his only other alternative was Red Alert, and he's a bit more unpredictable. Since I decided to come, Firestar refused to be left behind, not if her firepower could keep me functioning. Now I'm wondering if I made the right choice."

Ratchet stepped closer and rested a reassuring hand on Inferno's shoulder. "You can still make a difference here, and in ways that will help those Autobots still stranded on Cybertron."

"By mining?" Inferno doubtfully asked.

"By mining the ore for a solar harvester that will give us truly unlimited energon. But more importantly, it will allow us to reignite fallen Autobots."

"Moonracer?"

Ratchet's optics dimmed and he looked down. "No. It seems that the spark chamber must be intact, at least to some degree. Anyone who received a proper burial can't come back." He lifted his gaze to Inferno's again, "But if we can successfully recharge the All Spark, those potential patients on Cybertron can receive energon, can be repaired, and can be reignited even if they perish from energon starvation in the meantime. It might be the menial labor of mining asteroids, but you'll still be doing the work of a healer."

Inferno lowered his gaze, considering Ratchet's words.

In a soft voice, Ratchet added, "You have not neglected your duty nor failed your oath."

Inferno slowly ex-vented and then lifted his gaze. "Thank you. Especially coming from the Autobots' senior medic, that means…more than I expected it to."

Ratchet leaned closer, touching helm-to-helm as kin. "You're welcome, brother-healer." Straightening, he glanced again at the damaged weapons on the repair berth. "And tell Lancer she's slacking."

Inferno snorted in amusement. "Yes, sir."

…

In addition to the repairs made to the Iron Will, Roadbuster oversaw the renovations necessary to turn it into a makeshift mining vessel. Since the ship had artificial gravity and they all had human holoforms now, Earth-made mining equipment like mills, sifters, and centrifuges needed only minor modification before being installed on the Iron Will. Other tools, like plate magnets, needed no modification at all. Even building and installing a makeshift mineral lab in the hold and a science station on the bridge for Beachcomber hadn't been too terribly difficult. In fact, Ratchet's repair team had been tripping over themselves in their eagerness to help.

Inferno aided with the modifications where he could, but for the most part, he felt superfluous to the entire operation. He was grateful for what Ratchet said, but it still didn't really change anything.

While all that was going on, Optimus was leading out by exploring and tagging incoming asteroids. A couple of good ones had already left the safe zone before the Iron Will was ready, but their first destination was one of those promising, tagged asteroids.

In preparation for their initial mining run, all of the crew of the Iron Will were issued several locking, metal storage bins to hold what was normally the contents of their subspace pockets. In the barracks, Inferno emptied most of his medical equipment from his subspace, keeping just a well-stocked first aid kit and a standard field medic's kit tucked away. The rest of those precious, hoarded medical tools and supplies were instead going to be locked away in Ratchet's med bay, where he would keep an optic on them for Inferno until he returned.

Firestar sensed his mood, of course, as she emptied her own subspace pockets into a storage bin. She, too, was only keeping the bare necessities, like her best rifle and a high-end pistol Chromia had given her back before the War even started. Do I need to haul you off to that interfacing facility again? she asked.

We don't have the time, he pointed out, not even trying to hide his disappointment over the bond.

Glancing his way with a playful smirk, she said, Guess we'll just have to entertain each other with fond memories in the meantime.

He chuckled aloud in answer. Wait until we're in the quiet of space to get my engine revving, femme. We don't want any humans to offline from embarrassment – especially Lennox!

It was her turn to laugh, and she nudged him affectionately over the bond, pleased she'd been able to lighten his mood. Let's go. The faster we fill our subspace pockets with ore, the faster we'll get back here.

…

Ultra Magnus gave them a more-detailed mission briefing, including duty assignments, once they'd left Earth's atmosphere behind. "Windcharger and Blaster, for the duration of our mining mission, you're going to alternate shifts at the helm. We'll need to make sure we maintain a distance that's close enough to be convenient but far enough away that our own gravity doesn't interfere with the structural integrity of the asteroid we're mining. Communications should be straightforward and infrequent enough that the mech at the Nav station should be able to take care of both. Any questions?"

"Naw," Blaster easily answered. "Just keep pacing the asteroid, smooth and steady."

Ultra Magnus nodded. "Beachcomber will alternate shifts with Roadbuster, and they will remain on the ship to perform a preliminary processing of the raw materials we harvest. Using the equipment we've installed, they'll separate the ore from everything else, so that we're not needlessly hauling space rock or ice back to Earth. The actual refining will take place planet-side. Beachcomber's expertise is considerable, and I expect any orders he gives in regard to mining to be obeyed with alacrity. Any questions?"

He was met with silence, so he continued, "All the rest of us will contribute directly to mining efforts. Our first step will be to harvest what's most-easily accessible. Inferno and Firestar, you'll both take cometary form and, using those plate magnets we brought along, make a low-elevation flight over the surface. The goal is to pull all the iron you can out of the asteroid's regolith before we even really start. Continue to fly those low passes as we harvest raw material, since that will likely stir up the asteroid a bit, allowing you to easily catch any deeper deposits of iron or natural iron alloy. Any questions there?"

After a few astroseconds, Beachcomber said, "Not a question, but a comment, sir. Cobalt is a particularly difficult metal to source on Earth, but it can sometimes be found intermixed with iron. Inferno, Firestar, if you do come across any iron laced with cobalt, please notify me immediately."

Inferno nodded in agreement, and Firestar answered, "Understood."

Ultra Magnus waited a few more astroseconds to see if anyone else had a question or comment and then continued. "So…Firestar and Inferno will magnetically comb through the asteroid regolith and debris, then we'll bring anything promising back to the Iron Will. After Beachcomber and Roadbuster have completed their preliminary processing, we'll then bring the dross back to the asteroid and leave it there. Once we've all filled our subspace pockets, or once any of us are down to 50% on fuel or 75% on energon, we'll head to the storage and refinery site in Nevada. Any questions in regard to that?"

"What about Diego Garcia?" Bulkhead asked. "When do we report there next?"

"We'll take a 24-hour shore leave there between each mining run, perhaps longer if any repairs are needed to our mining equipment or the Iron Will."

Inferno noticed that every single mech and femme perked up a little at that – even Roadbuster. Chromia was right that Earth was fragging weird, and the humans were definitely a product of Earth, but the NEST base had felt more like home than it had any right to.

"We expect to reach our target asteroid, designated El Dorado, within 17 hours. Windcharger and Beachcomber will take the first duty shift, so everyone else, rest up. Dismissed."

…

Inferno was endlessly amused by the names the humans came up with for the various asteroids. All the mapped asteroids had designations based on official catalog entries, of course, but Earth-base included some kind of creative name for every actual mining target. He'd needed an explanation for "Five-and-Dime" (which had high concentrations of nickel and chromium), but after that, it was an easy guess what metal they'd be mining on "Penny." When multiple different metals were in an asteroid, whoever was behind the name assignments got even more creative, with names like Bingo, Jackpot, and Eureka. They usually harvested at least some iron, but when they did find any that was cobalt-laced, it was always in small amounts. Still, Beachcomber was getting to be a pretty happy mech, and Inferno kept reminding himself of Ratchet's words: that this work was still the work of a healer.

On average, they were able to mine a max load's worth of ore about once a week, so they were still able to see their friends – both Cybertronian and human – on a regular basis.

On Eureka, Beachcomber pulled Inferno aside as he and Firestar returned to the ship with their plate magnets full of iron. Roadbuster and Firestar started gathering the iron from her magnet while Beachcomber showed him a small, blue crystal. "Does this remind you of anything?"

The shape was irregular and didn't bring anything to mind. "Not really."

"The color is the same as Spitfire's eyes. I'm going to give this to her."

Inferno tried to imagine what Firestar's reaction would be to him presenting her with a spare optic as a gift. She caught the edge of his thoughts and was morbidly curious. So was Inferno, honestly. "Why?"

"It's a tradition called a 'souvenir.' Humans get small gifts for their friends when they travel, as tokens of fond remembrance."

Humans have weird traditions, she dismissively said and focused again on the task at hand, giving him a gentle nudge over the bond that he should do the same. But if it was a tradition, if humans were expecting souvenirs, maybe they should bring some home for the fleshlings. "Huh. I wonder if I should get some for Ratchet's repair team."

Beachcomber shrugged. "They'd probably appreciate it."

Several other mechs got into it, looking for stones or metals that were an interesting shape or color.

When they returned to Diego Garcia (after leaving their haul at the Nevada site), Spitfire hosted the usual get-together. Inferno made sure he was close enough to overhear the conversation when Beachcomber presented his gift to her. "I found this rock, and the color reminded me of you, of your eyes," he said a little shyly. "I picked it up as a souvenir for you."

"Oh, thank you!" she brightly said, holding it up in the sunlight and peering at it with interest. "What kind of mineral is it?"

"Oh, it's not a mineral, just structured carbon with a smidge of boron mixed in."

"Wait," Will said. "Did you just give my wife a diamond?"

"That's gotta be close to two carats," Spitfire exclaimed at the same time Will demanded, "A blue diamond?!"

Beachcomber said, "It's 3.15 carats, actually."

Spitfire kind of choked and her cheeks turned red as blood rushed to the surface of her skin. At first Inferno was worried she was having some kind of medical episode, but his holoform library informed him this was symptomatic of nothing more concerning than acute embarrassment.

"Yes, Major Lennox, but it's just as a souvenir," Beachcomber pointed out, and Sarah started shaking with a giggle fit.

Waving her hand toward her mate, she said through her laughter, "You explain."

Grinning himself, Will said, "Diamonds are a traditional gift given between mates, especially as part of a marriage proposal."

Over their bond, Inferno poked Firestar, who was conversing with Mia. You're not going to believe this!

"But diamonds are common crystals," Beachcomber protested, his own holoform flushing red with embarrassment as Firestar shared what was going down and the two femmes broke out in laughter. "Even here on Earth they're produced in labs and put to industrial use all the time!"

"Yeah, I know, but for us humans, diamonds in particular are a big deal. I mean, they have cultural significance."

"You're very kind," Spitfire said, having calmed down a little, "but this is way too valuable to be considered just a souvenir." She offered it back to him, and he hung his head, dejected.

Coming to Beachcomber's rescue, Inferno stepped closer and said, "Firestar and I brought platinum nuggets, some neat-looking titanium salt crystals, and a handful of peridots back for Ratchet's repair team. Blaster brought back a black diamond for Epps. Beachcomber isn't attempting to steal you away from your mate, Spitfire. This is genuinely a souvenir."

The humans exchanged a look, and if Inferno didn't know better, he'd have thought they were communicating over a bond. Then Spitfire closed her hand over the diamond again. "Thank you, Beachcomber. That's very thoughtful of you, and I'm grateful for this souvenir. I'll happily think of you every time I see it."

…

On their next mining run, everyone kept their optics open for the best souvenirs. Even Ultra Magnus made a point of hand-selecting some gold nuggets for Samuel Prime. Beachcomber managed to find both a black diamond as large as Spitfire's blue one and an opal. When they were back on Diego Garcia, he presented them to Iron Will and Spitlet respectively, just to make clear that the diamond for Spitfire had indeed been an innocent gesture. Once again, Inferno eagerly made sure he was close enough to eavesdrop.

"But the problem is we have nothing to offer you in return," Spitfire protested.

"You have given us a home here," Beachcomber said. "That's more valuable than any trinket or curiosity we can find on an asteroid."

Inferno watched with open curiosity as Spitfire sighed and again telepathically communicated with her husband without a bond. (He'd have to ask Ratchet how he thought the humans pulled that off.) "Thank you for your thoughtful and generous gift," Iron Will said. "But let's make this the last of the souvenirs for my family, okay?"

Beachcomber nodded and Spitfire waved Spitlet over. "Hey Annabelle, Bret has a souvenir for you."

The little girl broke away from Skids and Mudflap to see the opal shimmering in Beachcomber's hand.

"Oh! That's pretty!" Spitlet exclaimed, picking it up from Beachcomber's palm.

"What do you say?" Spitfire prompted.

"Thank you!"

"You're very welcome," Beachcomber answered.

With a grin, the child pocketed it and skipped off again.

...

Inferno was stumped when they were directed to the asteroid named "Mjolnir." He found Blaster on the bridge and asked him, "Okay, what's our target metal there? Vibranium?"

"Naw, mech, unobtanium," Blaster answered.

Inferno looked up the unfamiliar term and then snorted in amusement. "Where do the humans come up with this stuff?"

Blaster shrugged. "Dunno, but I'm sure Beachcomber's got a theory. To answer your question, the asteroid's got a major deposit of cobalt-laced iron there. People were cheering in the background when Earth-base gave me the news."

…

When they finished up on Vegas (which had rich deposits of both titanium and platinum), they were next directed to an asteroid designated Midas. It was an easy guess that the target metal there was again gold.

Inferno and Firestar had only made a couple of passes over the surface when he noticed that she was crowding him. It annoyed him that she wasn't staying more focused, but before he could articulate as much, she said over their bond, You're flying too close to me.

I'm on course, he retorted. You're the one who's drifted.

You're kicking up debris into my path.

If you'd stayed on course, you wouldn't be in the way of the debris.

Her anger lashed once across the bond before she reined it in and blocked the bond. She slowed to a stop, lowering the plate magnet to the asteroid before transforming. All the other 'bots on the surface turned and looked at her in surprise.

/Is there a problem?/ Ultra Magnus demanded over a public channel, clearly irritated by the interruption to their now-familiar mining routine.

/Just a mech who's out of line,/ she grumbled back

/Seems to be catching,/ Blaster lamely joked. /The chatter all morning's been pretty heated./

/Stay out of this,/ Inferno snapped at both of them. Over a private comm, he sent to Firestar, /What is wrong with you?/

/You're the one who can't fly straight! I can't believe you're being so petty about this! If you're too arrogant to correct your course, I'm going to work down here with the mechs and femmes who actually respect me./

Inferno cut the comm line, stunned that she would react like that when she was the one who'd been kicking debris at him.

Spark stinging from his mate's stubborn block on the bond, Inferno continued to orbit the asteroid in his assigned flightpath, catching whatever iron he could. After four passes, he gently leaned against the bond, trying to nudge it aside. When Firestar didn't yield, he sent, /I'm sorry./

She relented and dropped the bond. Her anger still radiated out like heat from a fire, but she stiffly said, So am I. Just…give me some space to cool off, okay? I can't stand blocking the bond any longer, but I don't want to say something I'll regret.

/Inferno, report back to the ship, please,/ Beachcomber sent.

Firestar didn't comment but did go to retrieve her plate magnet so she could take his place catching stray iron. She was still fuming, but she was also curious enough that she was half-listening over the bond.

Beachcomber was intently studying something on a monitor in the mineral lab when Inferno arrived, and he was irked that he had to say, "Reporting as ordered," to get his attention.

Beachcomber looked up in surprise. "Good. Here…" he stepped aside and gestured at the screen. "What do you make of this?"

Inferno glanced at the molecule currently diagramed and paused, tilting his helm. "Is that energon?"

"No. It's close, but it's chemically inverted. I've found several samples, all of them crystals no bigger than a few nanometers. It's apparently inert, so if it's some form of energon, it's basically depleted."

"Could we mine this?"

Beachcomber shook his helm. "There would be no point. Like I said, if it's energon, it's depleted. I'm more concerned about everyone getting exposed to it."

"What do you mean?" Inferno snapped.

"Exactly that," Beachcomber evenly said. "Ever since we started work on this asteroid, the crew has been unusually cantankerous. Even you and Firestar were at odds earlier."

Inferno again paused and considered what Beachcomber was saying. "You think this…inverted energon is making us irritable?"

"I don't know. This is a completely unknown substance, if you're unfamiliar with it. But I'd like to recommend to Ultra Magnus that we cease work on this asteroid, at least temporarily, until we know more. Will you stand with me for that recommendation?"

Inferno felt a flash of anger. "I won't be ordered around by a neutral who only joined up for the energon."

"I understand and yield to your superior experience," Beachcomber said, again with that gratingly-even voice. "Considering what this compound is doing to your relationship with your sparkmate, what do you recommend, sir?"

A part of Inferno wanted to go forward just to spite the arrogant neutral, but it was the mention of his mate that gave him pause.

Things haven't been right between us since we started work on this asteroid, Firestar grudgingly admitted.

Maybe there was something to Beachcomber's theory, Inferno thought. Shaking his helm, he said, "Recall everyone. We need to tell Ultra Magnus to recall everyone."

"Thank you," Beachcomber said, and this time Inferno heard the genuine gratitude in his voice.

Inferno commed Ultra Magnus. /Sir, we might have a medical issue. Could you please join us on the ship?/

It only took him a few minutes to leave the asteroid and stomp his way to the mineral lab. "What's the problem here?"

"Sir," Beachcomber began, "the entire crew has been unusually agitated today. I believe there might be a compound on the asteroid that's causing the discord, and Inferno is concerned it might be interfering with our systems. We recommend that the entire crew be recalled from the asteroid."

"You want to pull the plug on our best gold deposit yet because a few mechs woke up on the wrong side of the berth?" Ultra Magnus growled.

"No, listen to yourself, Magnus!" Inferno yelled back, exasperated that he couldn't see. "Listen to all of us! All fragging day long we've been sniping at each other. Beachcomber's right and we need to dump everything we've pulled in. Do a complete decontamination."

"Oh, Beachcomber's right?" Magnus said incredulously. Turning toward the pacifist and narrowing his optics, he said, "So much for motivation."

Ducking his helm, Beachcomber meekly asked, "Sir, would you be using the same tone and words in front of our Prime?"

"You're fragging right, I…" Ultra Magnus stopped mid-sentence, shuttering his optics in surprise.

"As soon as I began to suspect something on the asteroid itself might be the problem, I went through frame decontamination procedures and quarantined the regolith we'd harvested," Beachcomber continued. "I feel it would be unwise to bring more aboard."

"That's not your call to make," Magnus angrily said.

"I agree 100%, sir. Please, Optimus is also a scientist. Perhaps we can get his opinion?"

"Not via comm," Inferno said. A part of him recognized he was channeling Red Alert, and he wasn't sure how he felt about that. "If Soundwave's listening, we don't want the Decepticons knowing about this stuff."

Ultra Magnus used a public comm to contact Optimus. /Sir, your presence is required on the Iron Will./ Looking at Inferno and Beachcomber, he demanded, "Was that vague enough for you?"

"Thank you, sir, yes," Beachcomber quickly answered. "Your discretion is appreciated, sir."

They looked at each other for several seconds before Ultra Magnus said, "So what are we supposed to do for the day and a half it'll take him to get here?"

"Decontaminate," Inferno firmly said.

…

By the time Optimus came within visual range of the ship, the crew had all undergone decontamination procedures, and that seemed to settle their irritation down considerably. They were all still puzzled and, with the benefit of hindsight, Inferno and Firestar were pretty shaken by what they'd been through, but at least the atmosphere was much more serene.

Only Magnus, Inferno, Firestar, and Beachcomber were on the bridge when Optimus entered. "What's the emergency?"

"On screen," Magnus ordered, and Firestar (who was at the Comms station) put Beachcomber's chemical diagram up. Magnus continued, "We believe the problem is this substance. The asteroid we're mining right now is peppered with it."

"It has a structure similar to energon, but it's backwards," Beachcomber added. "Inverted."

"How much of this substance did you say you encountered?" Optimus asked, deadly serious.

"Just trace amounts," Beachcomber answered. "The biggest crystals I found were about three or four nanometers. If they're a kind of energon, though, they're depleted."

"Any…" He looked around the bridge again and amended it to, "How many casualties?"

"None," Magnus slowly answered, sounding puzzled. "I know it seems a bit ridiculous for us to have called you all the way back here when no one died or was even injured, but this inverted energon was having a serious effect on the crew."

"I have no doubt. These crystals are not inverted energon," Optimus solemnly answered, "and we're fortunate no one was harmed or extinguished as a result of exposure. This chemical was known to the Ancient Primes and is in Jetfire's databases. The Seekers of the Primes were vigilant about avoiding it. It is dark energon."

"It's what?" Firestar asked.

"Think of what energon does when you ingest it," Optimus said. "This is the antithesis of that. We consume energon to strengthen the frame and spark. Dark energon consumes those who ingest it, turning them into mindless husks that insatiably hunger for life."

"But energon comes from the All Spark, from an extension of Primus Himself," Ultra Magnus protested.

"Yes," Optimus answered. "And the source of dark energon is the antithesis of Primus."

"The Chaos-bringer?" Beachcomber incredulously asked. "Are you saying the crystals on this asteroid are physical, tangible proof of Unicron's existance?"

Optimus turned to look at him. "No. I'm saying they are physical, tangible proof of his proximity."

"Well frag," Firestar blurted out.

"The Fallen operated on Earth at one point," Ultra Magnus said. "Is it possible these crystals came from him or his goons?"

"It's possible," Optimus allowed. "But however they ended up in orbit around Sol, they originated with Unicron. How is it you are not all terrorcons ripping each others' sparks out?"

"Terrorcons?" Inferno asked.

Optimus glanced his way. "That's the term Jetfire's databases use for the walking dead who were completely consumed by the dark energon."

That could have so easily been us, Firestar whispered over the bond in horror.

For all we know, it might still be. Inferno let his own horror, acknowledgement, and apology roll over the bond. I'm so sorry, bold spark. We should have stayed on Cybertron.

Ultra Magnus said, "We never actually consumed this dark energon, and we've all undergone decontamination procedures on Beachcomber's," Magnus nodded his way, "recommendation. Also on his recommendation, we jettisoned the regolith harvest that started this whole mess and decontaminated the ship afterward."

"It was fortunate indeed you weren't exposed to the dark energon," Optimus said to Beachcomber.

"But I was. Sir. To the depleted kind, anyway."

Optimus tilted his helm curiously. "Entire warships have been destroyed when terrorcons attacked crewmembers."

Inferno heard the implied question behind the Prime's statement, and apparently so did Beachcomber. "I…as you know, I'm a pacifist, sir. I knew something was wrong when I felt good about aggression. That's when I underwent the decontamination procedures on my own initiative and then started analyzing what was so different about this asteroid. And the fact that it's depleted is probably why we were all able to keep our wits about us."

"I'm glad you are part of this crew, Beachcomber. Fate has truly favored us all," Optimus said. Resting a hand on Ultra Magnus' shoulder, he added, "This knowledge goes no further than the crew and Sam. Tell the others to not feel guilty about it and to not speak of it to anyone who was not here today. In the asteroid charts, list this one as being nothing more than worthless regolith. Move on and do your best to put this place and its influence behind you. If you encounter dark energon again, let me know immediately."

"Perhaps topping everyone off with energon would help to combat any potential lingering effects of exposure," Inferno added.

Something passed between Optimus and Magnus, but the Prime turned and nodded in agreement. "I have a single, empty vessel with me, but if that doesn't suffice, it will be close enough. Let's gather in the hold."

Once again Optimus drew energon from the Matrix for them, and once again, Inferno was amazed by how… improbably lucky they all were to have access to it again. As he drank freely, filling his tanks, he was struck again by the surety that he and Firestar and all the Autobots were not forgotten by Primus. Hope burned through him, and a determination to carry on.

After everyone had drunk their fill, Optimus again hid away the Matrix of Leadership and subspaced the vessel. Then clapping Ultra Magnus once on the shoulder, Optimus left.

As the ramp closed behind him, Magnus formally bowed to Beachcomber. "I have never doubted your professional skills; today, you've given all of us every reason to trust your good judgment. Thank you, Beachcomber. I owe you an apology. We are in your debt."

Inferno smirked to himself as Beachcomber's jawstrut fell open. As the medic for Cybertron Central Command, Inferno had interacted with the commander far more than Beachcomber had. Ultra Magnus was tough enough to go toe-to-toe with Optimus, but when he recognized he'd made a mistake, he admitted it. Maybe that's why he readily apologized – because he was that tough.

…

Roadbuster barked out over the comm, /Alpha Team, Beta Team, evacuate to the ship immediately!/

/Leave our equipment behind?/ Inferno asked, to be sure he'd heard correctly.

/YES! Get in the ship, now!/

A quick exchange of worry, dread, and encouragement flitted back and forth between Inferno and Firestar. They flew down to the asteroid's surface and cut loose their plate magnets, then headed toward the open hatch.

More dark energon? Inferno speculated.

Maybe, Firestar answered, but then why leave our equipment behind? That's only for when we detect Decepticon activity.

Inferno ran a sweep with his sensors, but he didn't pick up anything that would be cause for alarm.

They were the last ones to return to the Iron Will, and the ramp closed behind them. Ultra Magnus didn't wait for the interior of the ship to pressurize, though. /Battle stations./

Instantly, the entire crew leapt into action, taking up their assigned positions.

"The space-bridge opened," Magnus said, once there was an atmosphere again. "We're in communication with Earth-base trying to determine what, exactly, came through."

"Not an army?" Bulkhead asked.

"Iron Will," Wheeljack said, and Blaster put his image on the viewscreen. "We are unable to get a fix from here. Earth's atmosphere is interfering and their telescopes aren't agile enough. Recommend you go to the edge of the safe zone to investigate."

"Not an army yet," Lancer tightly said. "Helm, take us around."

"Way to be optimistic," Blaster muttered as Windcharger adjusted course.

"Earth-base," Lancer said, "we'll let you know the astrosecond we find something. Iron Will out."

"Beachcomber," Ultra Magnus ordered, "work with Roadbuster to see what you can do to boost the ship's scanners. It is imperative that we determine what we're up against."

"Inferno and I can help, too," Firestar volunteered.

"Probably more than I can," Beachcomber admitted.

Magnus looked her way and gave a sharp nod. Inferno followed his mate over to the makeshift science station.

For the next several hours, they tweaked and adjusted the sensors on the ship but still couldn't find anything. They even broadened the search by several degrees off of a straight line between Mars' space-bridge and Earth. Still, they found nothing but space and the occasional asteroid.

"Are we certain something came through?" Inferno finally asked.

"No," Lancer admitted, "but I want to rule it out 100% before we stand down. Widen the search parameters."

"How far?"

"All the way to the sun," Kup said. Lancer looked at him, but he just shrugged. "Call it a hunch."

Looking back at the science 'bots, Lancer ordered, "All the way to the sun."

Just a few tense minutes later, Beachcomber called out, "There it is!"

"On screen," Ultra Magnus ordered.

Firestar narrowed her optics at the device that filled their view. "What are we looking at?"

"It's a pretty standard probe design for exoplanet exploration," Beachcomber said.

"But it's moving fast," Inferno added. "Even Starscream couldn't catch it."

"Could it be weaponized?" Ultra Magnus asked.

"Sure, you could put a warhead on something like that," Roadbuster answered from the engine room over the intercom, "but it's relatively small. At most, it's a quarter of the size of the Iron Will."

"What's its heading?" Lancer asked.

"Sol. Earth's sun," Beachcomber said.

"Are they still trying to blow it up?" Bulkhead asked, somewhere between amused and exasperated.

"Not with that little thing, they aren't," Roadbuster huffed. "I don't care if Shockwave himself designed it, there's no way that probe could actually damage Sol."

Under his breath, Beachcomber muttered, "Slag."

"What?" Lancer demanded.

He turned and met her gaze. "Can BINDS withstand a solar storm?"

She blinked once and then turned to Blaster. "Patch us through to Earth-base."