Fire of Youth
Chapter 49: Hostage Situation
*I'm aware events are not exactly the same as they happened in the show, but isn't that kind of the point of a what if? Certain events may stay relatively untouched, but changing other events means other happenings could change drastically. And sorry about the delay! Work got in the way. ^^;
"Scrap, scrap, scrap, scrap!"
Infernus frantically paced around in the hangar. His pounding spark reverberated in his audials. Everything had gone wrong so fast. He was still trying to process it.
"Soundwave's gone. Ravage is gone. They probably know where we are. Ratchet is missing and we don't know where he was taken – we don't even know if he's alive!"
"Smokescreen, easy," Arcee urged.
He didn't realize his optics were glowing wildly until he saw them reflected on her silver faceplates. He quickly stifled the panic and rage to get it to stop.
"I'm fine. I'm calm. I'm fine," he insisted.
"We can make an educated guess where he was taken," Prowl told him. "That his spark signal is absent from scanners means he has most likely been taken aboard the warship, not that he's dead. That does unfortunately mean Soundwave used a groundbridge to reach the ship so quickly with his captive, and that does mean he knows our location. You are right to be worried about that, but that is a problem I am already attempting to solve."
"Solve?" repeated Bulkhead. "We've got the entire Decepticon army in their warship coming to get us! Unless you can turn this whole compound invisible, Prowl –"
"Even if I could do so, teleporting it to a different location would be more feasible," the tactician answered. "Invisibility won't help if the attacker knows your location. Moving locations is the most practical."
"Practical? How're we supposed to get you 'bots moved out that fast?" Fowler demanded.
To everyone's surprise, the normally stern tactician smiled a tiny, enigmatic smile. Who said they were moving out of the compound? The hangars were labeled alphabetically and Soundwave or Laserbeak had most likely noted their hangar letter before leaving: E. That would be the attack information told to Starscream and whoever else was sent to attack them because that was how Decepticon airstrikes operated: visually. Starscream was notorious for not being very bright and also being highly reactionary with his attacks. Knowing that meant all they had to do was fool their attackers into thinking Hangar E was somewhere else on the property.
Fowler caught on. "How long do you think we have before they show up?"
"Not long. We need to work quickly."
"What about Ratchet?!" Infernus demanded.
"Priorities, Prime," Ultra Magnus reminded him. "We won't be able to rescue him if we're obliterated by an airstrike."
He didn't like it but Magnus had a point. He yielded.
"What do we need to do, Prowl?" he asked.
The doors to the brig hissed open. Shockwave emerged. Starscream and Knockout were waiting for him.
"Well?" the Seeker asked him impatiently.
"He is stubborn," Shockwave droned, "and clever. His mind is not easy to navigate, but it appears as though he does not know what we need. He knows little more than I do about the creation of Synthetic Energon."
"Let me try, then," he smirked. "I'm sure with a little prodding from me he will speak."
"No."
The grey Seeker was baffled. "What?"
"He has vital knowledge Lord Megatron needs for Project: Phoenix. If you torture and kill him, we lose that knowledge. This extraction requires a subtler touch than yours. He will not give the needed information so long as he is our prisoner. Logically, we must therefore not treat him like one."
"What are you suggesting?" Knockout wondered.
"Allow him to recover. Then, we will release him."
Starscream was nearly floored at the suggestion. "Let the captive free? Have you lost your mind?!"
"Free is subjective. He is still classed as a prisoner. We simply will not overtly treat him as one."
Knockout hemmed. "What's that human phrase? Something about honey and flies...?"
Shockwave nodded. "If he sees we mean our homeworld no harm with this project, he might divulge the information willingly. He might even aid us."
"Does Lord Megatron know about this change in approach?" demanded Starscream in (perhaps understandable) suspicion.
Both officers stared at Megatron as he emerged from the brig, silently confirming he had been the one behind the decision. Ratchet followed behind him, battered and in cuffs. The murderous look in his old optics was hard to miss and unsurprisingly he stopped following in defiance. He didn't try to run; he merely stood his ground. Megatron stopped the moment he heard him stop. He didn't yell at him to keep moving. Instead, the two stood glaring at each other in a silent stand-off.
"I'd rather die than help you. Drop me off the ship for all I care," the medic growled.
Megatron was unmoved. "You might reconsider when I show you my latest project."
"Your projects are an affront to science and ethics," Ratchet sneered. "Your blasted 'patch' is proof enough of that. And don't even get me started on your cloning of Predacons – sentient beings with sparks – to use them as simple, dumb war beasts to be trained and used as living weapons."
"You prefer efforts that restore, just like he did," Megatron observed. "Then you will be interested to see this. Come."
He gestured for him to walk. Ratchet frowned but his own curiosity beckoned him onward. Soon enough, he, Ratchet, and Shockwave had vanished around a corner. But as they did, a private communication came through to Starscream:
"We have no need for his allies. Blast them into oblivion. You know where they are."
Starscream chuckled darkly. "My pleasure."
"Don't fail me."
Prowl's plan was so simple that Infernus honestly didn't think the Decepticons would be dumb enough to fall for it. Under his orders, teams of both humans and Autobots were rapidly repainting Hangar E to Hangar F and vice versa. Bluestreak, Grimwing, and Mark were handling their current hangar. Neal, Bulkhead, and Ultra Magnus were handling Hangar F. But at the same time, such a strategy was simple enough that they probably wouldn't catch on. As Prowl had pointed out, Starscream wasn't very bright and as second-in-command of the Decepticons, he would be the one leading the assault. Fool the leader, fool the group.
However, Prowl did point out one key issue: the 'Cons would be expecting retaliation. If they just sat back and hid while they destroyed the wrong hangar, they could get suspicious. Infernus, of course, wasn't exactly keen on the associated part of that problem: in order to make sure they didn't get wise to the trick, Fowler would have some of the personnel engage the enemy.
"I'd really prefer you not put humans at risk for our sake," he told the man frankly.
"Relax, Prime," Fowler reassured him. "The soldiers on this base are trained for this sort of situation. If things get too dicey, they know when to bail."
"The Decepticons will only be interested in downing their aircraft, not attacking the pilots," Prowl agreed. "So long as they parachute to safety before the vehicle fails, the risk of harm is negligible."
Infernus frowned but agreed. He only requested they use the bare minimum number of human soldiers. The fewer humans put in the line of fire, the better. Starscream was Air Commander of the Decepticons for a reason even if he was pretty dumb, and he was hardly going to be coming alone. Megatron would be sending as many soldiers as he could to try to wipe them out. For all he knew, Megatron himself might come with him to see the job done.
"Smoke?" came Bluestreak's voice.
The young gunner trotted in with something in his hands.
"What's up?" he asked.
"I found this just outside," he said as he showed him something small and metallic in his hands. "Sorry about it being a little smooshed, I kinda stepped on it a little by accident before I spotted it. Any idea what it is? It's kinda...beeping a little."
"Do I need to smash it?" grunted Brawn.
"Beeping?" Wheeljack repeated. "Here. Lemme see it."
Bluestreak handed it off to him. Wheeljack took it over to Ratchet's workbench to better examine it through the use of a magnifying lens and a bright light.
"No, don't think it needs smashing," he reported. "It's trying to give out a signal of some kind but it's not getting picked up or even going anywhere from what I can tell."
"So what is it?" Bluestreak asked again.
"I can't tell just by looking at it, but looks like it came off Laserbeak. It's too small to be something from Soundwave."
"I did shoot him," Bluestreak remembered, "and I know I shot something off him. I thought it was just plating though. Obviously, it's not 'cause it's beeping and flashing and I'm pretty sure plating doesn't do that. Unless Laserbeak is starting some new trend. That'd be weird. Do 'Cons even worry about fashion...? I mean, I know Knockout does but I'm talking about, like, everyone else. He doesn't count. And also Laserbeak is a drone, so that would mean Soundwave would be the one starting a new trend. So maybe it would be more like a pet owner giving their pet a cute outfit...?"
"Blue, focus," Arcee chided.
Bluestreak cringed. "Sorry."
Infernus smiled a thin smile. Even under stress, Bluestreak's little stream-of-consciousness rambles were always a little morale boost. If only it wasn't happening under such stressful circumstances.
"Leave it for now. We need to get ready for the main event," Infernus ordered. "If we're going to put on a show, we might as well get everyone involved in the act."
Wheeljack nodded and turned the device off. "Right. Just tell us where you want us."
"Get all of the equipment in here shut off and then meet the team at the fake hangar," he answered. "Prowl, I want you in here keeping an eye on everyone with Spritelight. If something goes south, evacuate with the humans."
Prowl nodded. "Understood."
"Aye, chief," chirped Spritelight.
"You don't sound very nervous, Prowl," Fowler observed, himself sounding harried and antsy.
"Autobot forces have been in situations like this at least a dozen times before now," replied Prowl. "We have prior experience with bases being compromised."
Wheeljack set about shutting down all equipment in the hangar while the rest of the team headed for the fake hangar where Magnus' team already was. Prowl simply took up a position on the inside wall near the hangar bay doors, just out of easy sight of aerial attackers. Mark took up a spot near him, gun at the ready. June, Fowler, Sami, and the kids took up positions as near to him as they dared while still staying in cover. Infernus kept near the doors, optics warily watching the skies. So far, nothing.
"Done," announced Wheeljack.
"Good. Come on," Infernus told him. "Shut the doors."
In a creak and a rattle, Wheeljack shut the bay doors to the hangar behind him. With the entire compound on lockdown, no doors anywhere were to be left open. That would make it harder for the airstrike squadron to see what was inside any of the buildings, therefore making it less likely their bluff would be called too soon. Infernus just hoped that Soundwave wouldn't be joining the attack squad. So long as he was left out, the chances of their bluff succeeding were pretty high. But he shook off his worry about possibilities and focused on the certainty. With his optics on the skies, he began arranging the team in a defensive formation around the false hangar. He put the heaviest hitters – Brawn, Wheeljack, Ultra Magnus, and Bulkhead – at the fore. Arcee, Bumblebee, Grimwing, and Bluestreak were placed around the sides where they had some cover to shoot from. Ribbondance he had positioned on the roof; from there, she could get into the air quickly to help the human pilots who were already prepping on the runway. He would join them in the air when the time came. The less risk to the human pilots, the better.
"Good idea," Arcee agreed. "I guess studying all those past battles while you were bored in the Hall of Records actually was worth something."
The young Prime grinned at her. "Told ya. Alpha Trion told me studying history gives you superpowers in a fight. It doesn't even need to be ancient history to do it."
'Indeed,' the old Archivist conceded. 'To know your enemy's past actions is to predict future ones more accurately.'
"Yeah. See? He agrees with me," he grinned.
She smirked, "You can rub it in later."
"We're set?" Bulkhead wondered.
"I think so," Infernus nodded. "Now, we just wait for the party to start."
"I wouldn't call being invaded due to a security breach a 'party', Infernus," Ultra Magnus commented dryly.
"Hey, if you like shooting 'Cons then it could be a party," Bluestreak argued, peeking his head around the corner.
"My kind of party," grinned Wheeljack. "Just a shame there's no high grade involved. That would make this a lot more fun."
Bluestreak giggled. Bumblebee trilled.
Ultra Magnus gave him a look and the young gunner went back to his ready position. He gave the same look to Wheeljack but the white Wrecker merely scoffed and rolled his optics at him. Infernus stopped a fight from breaking out between the two by parking himself in front of the hangar between both mechs. That proved enough to settle tensions.
"Prime, bogies inbound. Radar indicated," reported Fowler. "They're here."
"Everyone at ready," Infernus ordered.
Dozens of dark dots in the skies quickly sharpened into the form of two dozen Eradicon fliers led by a familiar sleek grey jet. On the ground, jet engines screamed as the military personnel shot up into the air to meet their attackers. Colorful blaster fire clashed with machine-gun bullets. Infernus feared the humans would be shot down almost instantaneously but they gave as good as they got. One Eradicon even had his port wing shredded by a machine gun whereupon they spiraled down into a flaming (and explosive) crash. Starscream didn't take that loss very well and rounded on the culprit pilot. He only managed to fire off a single missile before Bluestreak nailed him in the nose-cone, but even then it was slightly too slow of a response. Starscream's missile struck its target in the wing and the pilot's jet smoked and spun out of control. Worse, they didn't eject – maybe because they couldn't.
'No, no, no!' cried Prima in his head. 'The pilot!'
"Ribbondance!" shouted Ultra Magnus.
The crimson Avioid launched into flight and grabbed the falling jet in her talons. Blaster fire rained on her, but it didn't appear to do much more than irritate her, and even then she remained coldly strategic. She spat fire at her attackers to shoo them away, all while holding the damaged jet (and its occupant) in a vice grip. But her attackers didn't give her enough of an opening to place the jet on solid ground. She was stuck in the air without the use of her claws, and that was unsustainable. Fire could only do so much against metal enemies.
Infernus launched upward and took wing after Starscream. The grey Seeker spotted him in the air and rounded on him with five of his soldiers.
"Smokescreen!" the grey Seeker howled.
Blaster fire stung his plating. Infernus responded with a stream of fire. He knew it wouldn't severely hurt them, but hurting them wasn't the point. Fire was a pretty good means of masking movement. It was bright and hard to see through. Two of the troopers were thrown off and rather than crashing into him, they flew wide, expecting him to skirt around. Bluestreak managed to shoot them both down, and they crashed in flaming heaps. Starscream kept going forward and crashed into him. But he didn't get the chance to fire his missiles at him. Infernus grabbed him in both claws, bit down on his port wing and bent it out of shape, and flung him to the ground.
*That's Infernus to you!* he roared back over short-band.
Starscream crashed to the ground in a heap. By the time he managed to transform, the Wreckers were already on him. He seemed to deliberate whether to shoot them or the hangar. In the end, he decided on both. One missile roared at the Wreckers only for Magnus to block it with his shield. The other roared past them and struck the hangar.
"No!" Arcee shouted.
Infernus had to admit that she was a pretty good actor. So were Wheeljack and Bulkhead, who roared in outrage and let loose a volley of high-powered shots in retaliation. Two more soldiers fell and crashed, but Starscream laughed maniacally at them as the remaining troops rained plasma onto the burning hangar. Within a few moments, it had been reduced to a smoldering heap of twisted, warped metal. Then Starscream and his troops rounded their full attention on the team. But in typical Starscream fashion, he flew off and abandoned his soldiers to their fate, evidently content with the carnage and not willing to risk his own hide. Two pilots chased after him.
"Have fun finding some other hole to hide in, Autobots!" he crowed.
He disappeared into a groundbridge before the two pilots could reach him.
Infernus let out a sigh.
"Prowl?" he prompted over his comm. link. "I think it worked."
"Of course it did," the tactician replied almost smugly. "Starscream may think himself immensely clever. He is not."
"Do you think he'll come back?" Arcee wondered to him on the same channel.
"Starscream believes he has crippled us and forced us into relocating. He has not. He has every reason to believe will flee this location. There is no logical reason for him to return."
"Let's hope you're right," she murmured.
"I would rather err on the side of caution," Ultra Magnus stated in a low voice. "Soundwave is far more thorough. We will make as if to leave, but have Rafael groundbridge us back once we are out of sight."
Bumblebee trilled agreement. Infernus agreed as well. Starscream was cocky and short-sighted. Soundwave was the exact opposite. The young Prime wisely contacted Bryce and Fowler and let them know Ultra Magnus's idea, and Bryce was quick to respond with a suggested rendezvous spot. There was a hidden facility near the compound, hidden below one of the mesas. It was a large Cold War bunker used as an outpost by Area 51 workers – and more specifically it was the spot they were storing some of the more dangerous items collected from Darkmount's rubble.
"Oh, is that the same place you moved the Forge to last week?" Infernus realized.
He'd almost forgotten about that. Bryce had been skittish about leaving it in their hangar, military compound hangar or not, and had slipped it into the hidden mesa facility to make it impossible for the enemy to find. That place was locked up even tighter than Area-51. Even conspiratorial internet hackers didn't know about it because the feds had laid a very convincing false bread crumb trail for them to follow. It didn't even have an official name. Fowler had just called it "The Bunker."
"That's the place, Prime, and you know the coordinates and passcode I gave you," said Fowler. "Just don't try to take the Forge without running things by Bryce first. The crew there is a little...trigger-happy."
Infernus thanked him, and the team made preparations to "leave" the compound.
Ratchet was deeply unhappy. Being a prisoner of war was the last thing he wanted to be, more so because he knew what happened to prisoners who failed to give Megatron what he wanted. But oddly enough, he didn't feel overtly in danger. Shockwave, while cold, was surprisingly polite to him. No threats. No attacks. He actually seemed to openly appreciate his expertise. Knockout, of course, wasn't thrilled that he had gone from lab chief to lab assistant, but Shockwave was courteous to him as well. The same went for the lone Eradicon guard at the door, which was perhaps the most startling event of all. He had led him to the lab himself with a notably professional demeanor. He'd even given him his name, Killzone. His personality proved far friendlier than his name.
A polite Eradicon. He was surprised at that. So many others were brutes or else daft, brainlessly loyal soldiers.
"You said you found this substance where the cloning lab once stood?" Ratchet asked Shockwave.
"Correct. The cyber-matter appears to be a direct result of the lab's explosion. I suspect the hyper-evolution fluid in the cloning vats is the key culprit, though some of my other simulations suggest the Predacons inside the vats were the reason – though those simulations are variable and the success rate is small even in ones with supporting scenarios. It is illogical to hold those simulations in too high a regard."
Ratchet nodded. "Why would the hyper-evolution fluid be a key culprit?"
"It is a unique formula I developed while stranded on Cybertron," explained Shockwave. "It is in fact the only formula that would allow the growth of Predacons. I tried dozens of other formulations prior to that one success; all failed. Either the Predacon emerged frail and weak, or they died shortly thereafter. In some cases, they perished before they emerged or even finished developing."
"What is in the fluid exactly?"
Rather than rattle off a list, Shockwave merely handed him a sample of the amber fluid so he could scan it. Nothing about it was particularly remarkable; it appeared to be similar to the growth fluids used in traditional cloning but modified with much higher Energon and mineral concentrations. That checked, he thought. Predacons were far more durable due to their thicker armor, and perhaps something in their genetic makeup required higher concentrations for them to form properly lest their bodies fail and shut down.
"The issue is this: my remaining formula was used in my main cloning facility – that you destroyed. I no longer have access to that formula and I do not have the materials on this planet to make more, so I cannot test this scenario twice to validate my hypothesis."
Ratchet arched a brow ridge. "But?"
"But you may hold the answers I seek. You discovered a mysterious formula in a data cylinder some time ago, correct?"
The old medic's suspicion sharpened. "Why ask me to confirm it? You pulled that out of my head."
"Affirmation is better than assumption."
"Yes, we did," he confirmed, "but we weren't able to complete it. The 'Synth-En' I developed was an attempt to fill in the gaps but based on its volatility I suspect that is not its proper final formulation."
"Well, lucky for you that it seems Shockwave has had time to fill in some of those gaps," purred Knockout, "thanks to a sample I got for him."
Ratchet frowned at him. "And here I thought you simply use it as is to create a horde of hyper-aggressive super-soldiers."
He noted Knockout fell unusually quiet at that comment, and his focus instantly pulled away from him and riveted on anything but him and Shockwave. His body language became very tight and stiff.
Ratchet smirked at him. "So you tried to, didn't you? Just as I thought."
"Let's drop the subject, shall we?" Knockout asked nervously. "We don't like to talk about it."
"Oh?"
"He and Starscream did something incredibly stupid with it," Killzone grunted. "That's all you need to know right now."
"Killzone, I said drop it!" hissed the red medic.
Though he couldn't see Killzone's face, he got the distinct sense the Eradicon made a face at him and rolled his optics. Somewhat rebellious in nature to his superiors then, he noted privately. That could prove useful, and it was truly very amusing to see Knockout so hot and bothered.
"If you finished the formula, let me see it," Ratchet requested.
Shockwave nodded and pulled up a holographic display with a complex formula. Ratchet almost gasped. He recognized the equations and symbols used in it. They were identical to what Bulkhead had painted while under the data's influence. Shockwave wasn't bluffing. He had made significant progress on the formula. The math, everything – it lined up. Even in its still incomplete state, he could see hints of what the formula was supposed to be. He'd even been on the right track initially: the restorative properties he'd experienced from it weren't a side effect or even a fluke. They were intended. The formula was not for a steroidal enhancer meant to create a volatile super-soldier, that much was obvious. If his instinct were right, they were dealing with something far, far more precious – something thought to only be the realm of Primus himself.
"You agree with my calculations?" Shockwave wondered.
"I–yes," he gasped. "Yes, I can see where I made undue logical leaps in my own attempts, notwithstanding the fact some of your material inputs I lacked access to."
"Will you help me complete it? This could be the means to restore our home."
"So your assumption is the same as mine then."
"Indeed. I believe your 'Synth-En' was really an incomplete formula for creating raw cyber-matter."
Ratchet shook off his stupor long enough to realize a glaring logistical problem.
"Even if we can make it, there is no possible production avenue that can give us enough to revitalize an entire planet. That's," he shook his helm, "that's just not possible. That's the realm of fantasy, Shockwave, not practical application."
"Doctor," Killzone grunted.
Shockwave raised no fuss about Killzone leading him out of the lab. While he was led through the warship, he got the sense Killzone wanted to tell him something but Ratchet knew well enough how closely monitored they both would be. Then again, he didn't need to speak. When they entered the lowermost deck of the ship, Ratchet heard it: the sound of construction. The source of it left him reeling. Attached to the underside of the ship was a familiar ring – a dizzying sight when below it the blue and green sphere of Earth slowly passed by.
The Omega Lock.
"You – how?" he gasped. "He destroyed it!"
"Shockwave," Killzone answered.
Of course, the medic thought sourly. Shockwave. If anyone could figure out how to recreate the Omega Lock from its blasted and burned rubble, he could. That mech would dissemble Primus himself to make a Decepticon-loyal copy if he could.
"He's going to force you to help finish it," Killzone whispered urgently, "and Megatron will kill you if you refuse."
"Obviously," he harumphed. "I gathered that much."
"They have the ring, but they haven't been able to power it yet."
"...Why are you telling me this?" the old medic wondered.
"I think you know."
After being with Optimus for so long, and coming to know Megatron as well as he did, he did know. The last time Megatron had gotten ahold of the Lock and used it, his desire for conquest, not just the revitalization of their home, had become frightfully apparent. An evil twin of Darkmount had been created in Nevada, and Primus only knew what else he would have done if the Lock hadn't been destroyed.
"He isn't going to use it to simply reactivate Cybertron, is he?"
Killzone wordlessly nodded.
"Seargent!" snapped Starscream. "What is the prisoner doing out of the lab?"
"He requested to see progress on Project: Phoenix, Commander," lied Killzone. "That is all."
Starscream glowered and ordered him to be taken back to the lab. Killzone obeyed.
"I'll try to help you out. I've got friends among the construction crew who are trying to slow things down," he whispered without glancing his way and giving the game away. "You'll need to handle the lab side of things. I can't do much there."
Ratchet knew better than to acknowledge. Soundwave's eyes were all over the ship.
Once they reached the lab, Killzone went back to his guard post by the door. Shockwave was still busy trying to finalize his formula, but all he needed was one or two more variables. There was no way he could interfere that way.
"Knockout, retrieve sample B2-11," the monocular scientist droned.
Knockout muttered some choice words to himself and headed for the storage cabinet. His expression changed when he crouched, opened the cabinet, and saw something that displeased him.
"What the – Hey! Get out of my cabinets, Catscratch!" he barked. "Shoo! Out!"
Something small and black jumped out of the cabinet almost directly into Knockout's face. The red medic was startled enough that he fell backward onto his rump. Ratchet just managed to get a look at the culprit, a small black feline Predacon, before the little creature fled out of the door like their tail was on fire.
Ratchet coughed back a short laugh.
"Stupid cat, always getting into my things!" he grumbled, rising. "This is the fifth time I've found her in there over the last few days!"
"You know, if you'd asked her nicely she might have handed you what you needed," Ratchet smiled.
Knockout's anger briefly paused as he considered the truth of his words.
"Maiow!"
He turned. Catscratch sat on the floor at his trods looking up at him. How exactly she'd gotten back in without using the door wasn't obvious. The little feline looked friendly enough though, so perhaps it was safe to be friendly in return.
"Hello," the old medic greeted.
"Maiow!" Catscratch rose up onto her hind limbs.
Ratchet stooped down to give her a light touch on her head. He gave Knockout a smug look that said "Watch."
"Catscratch, was it? Do think you could grab another sample out of the cabinet for me?" he asked politely. "I'd like to get a better look at what Shockwave gathered."
"Maiow!"
Catscratch trotted over to the still-open cabinet and jumped in. After rummaging around for a moment, she jumped back out with a hunk of cyber-matter that was disproportionately huge in her tiny jaws. She reared up so Ratchet wouldn't need to stoop as far down.
"Thank you," he told her, giving her another pat.
"Maiow!"
Catscratch brushed up against his leg and wound around it. He chuckled. Friendly to a fault, this Catscratch. If only Predaking could learn from her.
"Stay out from underfoot," Shockwave droned. "These are sensitive experiments."
Catscratch pinned her ears back. A rowdy female voice declared: *I'm not underfoot. Lay off!*
"So you can talk," Ratchet realized.
*Of course I can feckin' talk, you bloody wee-yoo wagon!*
Knockout bit back a bark of laughter.
The little black feline trotted over and jumped up onto a countertop to observe. There, she declared, she was not "underfoot." She stayed sitting for a moment, watching Knockout and Shockwave get back to their experiments, before eyeballing one of the many small fluid-filled canisters lying so very temptingly within reach. Ratchet had seen just enough cat videos online to know what she was about to try. She started moving it ever so slightly with her left paw, quietly enough that no one but he took notice. Then:
SMASH!
Knockout spun to the noise and saw one of the canisters shattered on the floor, its contents spilled. It took everything Ratchet had not to laugh. Apparently, Catscratch's "cat-ness" went far beyond just her beast form.
"Cat..." Knockout growled. "Bad kitty."
Catscratch met his gaze with the placid expression of an innocent child, but Ratchet swore there was also a gleam in her green optics that came across as a taunt.
"You may only remain if you do not break any of the equipment or damage any samples," Shockwave warned. "If you cannot do so, you will be removed."
Ratchet was not at all surprised when she defied that order. A few minutes later, some tools had clattered to the floor. He feared that Shockwave would harm her in retaliation. However, Shockwave merely scooped her up and removed her from the lab. He returned a few moments after, empty-handed, but Ratchet then heard the faint pitter-patter of tiny metal paws somewhere close by. Bulkhead had mentioned the ventilation ducts had let him sneak through parts of the ship when he had accidentally been transported aboard. It appeared that Catscratch was making use of them for the same reason. He caught sight of a pair of glowing green eyes peering from a grate in the ceiling. She proved it was her by sticking a slender paw through the grate.
"Cat, please behave," Killzone ordered in a tight, terse voice.
A mewl came from the grate. The paw retracted back in, but the glowing green eyes remained.
The old medic stifled a chuckle. Catscratch, he suspected, was also part of Killzone's efforts to impede progress – but who would be suspicious of a cat simply doing cat things? Felines shoving objects off tables and countertops was an internet favorite for humans. He actually had to thank her for that supposedly poor behavior; it had given him an idea. The amber hyper-evolution fluid was incredibly flammable, after all, as proven by the destruction of the cloning facility, and the lab he was in was much smaller than that and well-sealed. But he couldn't attempt anything too soon. He needed to play along like a good captive and look for an opening. Perhaps Killzone or Catscratch would indicate when?
Getting everything in the true Hangar E back up and running was just a matter of flipping switches and control panels. What took time was the personnel scouting with their jets for any sign of Soundwave or Laserbeak in the area. Ribbondance and Spritelight also helped by sniffing around for Ravage. They didn't think he was hidden among them, but it was better to be cautious lest he call their bluff.
Once both teams reported to him that they were in the clear, Infernus was finally able to think. They needed a way to find Ratchet, but how?
'Hey, what about that thingy Blue shot off Laserbeak?' Amalgamous suggested. 'Didn't Wheeljack say it was giving off some kinda signal, but it wasn't connecting anywhere?'
He nodded. It wasn't like they had any other leads. But Wheeljack wasn't the best person to investigate that, as smart as he was.
"Hey, Raf?" he prompted.
"Yeah?" the tween answered.
"Can you take a look at this thing?" he requested. "I know Wheeljack took a look but I'd prefer an expert opinion – er, no offense, Wheeljack."
Wheeljack shrugged. "None taken. Kid's definitely the tech expert here."
The boy nodded and grabbed his laptop. Infernus ferried him over to the workbench where he spent a few minutes hooking the whatever-it-was up to his laptop and reading the feed from it.
"I think..." Raf's eyes widened. "Infernus, I think this is Laserbeak's transponder – the thing it uses to 'talk' to the warship."
"Uh, that's not a problem, is it?" Jack wondered nervously.
Raf shook his head. "It can't talk right now because the signal is too weak and the compound is blocking unidentified outbound communications."
"So what use is it if it can't talk?" Brawn grunted.
Raf's eyes sparkled. "Some parts are broken, which is why the signal is so weak, but that doesn't mean I can't fix what's broken."
"You really think fixing it will help us find Ratchet?" June wondered.
"Yes. It can. It can lead us to the warship."
Infernus was impressed at how confident the boy sounded.
*Just tell us what you need, Raf,* trilled Bumblebee.
"You guys need to help gather parts. I think we can get everything we need on-site, we just need to ask around," he explained, "but you're a bit big to help with some of this, 'Bee. Jack, Miko – can you help? I'll tell you what to do. Don't worry."
Both of his friends nodded. Sami offered her hand as well but Raf insisted it was okay; her dominant arm was still mending, and they needed to be careful while making and assembling things. He only really needed two extra sets of hands. What she could do was help shape parts and cut wires with Spritelight. Sami and the little dragon agreed, at which point Raf began compiling a list of the items he needed gathered. Metal, circuits, wires – bits he would need to fix up the transponder, but also what he would need to actually get it in the air. He didn't want to have someone carry it because the 'Cons would pick up the Autobot signal attached to it, figure it out, and attack on sight. He wanted to try and fool them into thinking it was just Laserbeak flying around. That might buy them some time to sneak onto the warship before everyone aboard was on high alert.
"Wouldn't they notice two Laserbeaks flying around?" Arcee wondered, highly skeptical.
"Not when I'm done," the boy hinted. "Now come on! Chop chop! We've got work to do!"
With that, the team scattered to collect what Raf needed. Infernus himself called ahead to Mark and Neal to see if they had anything at the auto-hangar, then went to collect. Apparently, they had way more than just car parts in the hangar.
By the time he came back, Bluestreak and Bumblebee had already delivered some of what he needed. Raf was already busy fixing up the transponder's damaged wiring, but he wasn't able to do much more until Arcee came in with a welding torch for him. Fowler was less than keen on letting a twelve-year-old mess with such a tool, but Jack did so for him while Raf instructed. The older teen had some prior experience with metal-working tools thanks to one of his elective courses at his old high school. And to his credit, Raf was a good teacher. Then again, Infernus thought, he had learned from the best: Ratchet himself.
They worked for hours getting the transponder back in working shape. But after that, Raf started to get creative. He had Spritelight start carving some of the metal slabs Bulkhead had gathered into fins. One wing was carved out rapidly thanks to the little dragon's sharp tail blades that cut the metal like paper. He then ferried the thing up to Raf on the workbench.
"'Bee, hold that wing in place," Raf instructed. "Put your hand under it so it has support."
Bumblebee whistled and obeyed. Jack welded the wing in place and the scout held it in place to make sure it stayed in the right position.
They kept working. Raf added more fins for stable flight, added a nose propeller from one of the old fighter jets and modified it to run on a little Energon so it wouldn't fall out of the sky at an inopportune time, and added some weird little device that would feed off the telemetry data from the real Laserbeak. Of course, they needed to know it would actually fly, but before they could even do that, Raf had to make sure that his system worked. Working with tools gave way to Raf being where he was always most comfortable: in front of a screen.
"So...what's it doing?" Miko asked.
"It's trying to talk to the warship," Raf explained. "It can't though because even though we've got its signal output capacity fixed, we're blocking all outbound communications. It wants to talk, but can't."
"So that's what all those numbers and stuff mean?"
"Yes. And it's not 'numbers and stuff', Miko. It's Cybertronian code."
"Cool," Miko breathed. "You can read that?"
"I wanted to learn so Ratchet kept teaching me. He made sure I understood Cybertronian coding language in case I ever got another opportunity to hack the 'Cons."
"Typical Ratchet," Bumblebee agreed. "He's happy to teach, you just have to be a good student and want to learn."
Raf chuckled "Yeah," albeit somewhat nervously. He still remembered what had happened when Ratchet had gotten ahold of his science fair project.
"Hey, if anyone can get the old doc back in one piece, kid, you can," Wheeljack reassured him.
Sorry for the delay! And sorry for this one not being quite as long as I intended.
