Trials, Tribulations, and Transformations
XXX - Snob Hill
00000
Denver, CO - June 13th, 2011 - Monday, 9:00 am
"Are we seriously staying here?" Miko exclaimed incredulously. "Isn't it a bit much?"
"It is among the most secure locations in the US my dear," Dr. Sumdac said. "As Agent Fowler no doubt informed you all before coming here, your families will remain under careful watch in the community just down the hill. They'll continue their lives as usual and you may visit them at your leisure, provided you have your respected guardians with you at all times."
Jack, Miko, Rafael, Sari, Sierra, Katie, Vince and Jon were standing before a house.
It was an estate actually. A mountain estate surrounded by forest. A private luxury estate with effective security and location, readily made available for a number of particular VIP's.
"Who's house is this anyway?" Vince asked skeptically.
"One of mine," the good professor said. "One of the homes I'm not using."
"And no one knows about it?" Katie asked.
Professor Sumdac shook his head. "It is a private home that I privately built. And it is technically not on the map."
"So…" Sierra said anxiously. "We'll be quite safe here?"
"Oh yes, quite safe. Besides, you'll have your respective guardians right here in the garages and driveways."
The youths looked over their shoulders to see a number of Autobots, their guardians, all in vehicle form and parked accordingly.
"A few things concern me," Jon said.
"For example Jon?" Dr. Sumdac asked.
"I understand that MECH will be out of commission for a while but I'm sure they're going to try to keep tabs on Autobot activity regardless. When the bots need a groundbridge, how do we prevent MECH from detecting it and thus triangulating our current position?"
Some of the kids looked at Jon with amazement. Even Rafael and Sari looked impressed. They had forgotten that MECH was able to detect the materializing of a groundbridge portal. Even in their crippled state, MECH was still a problem that would eventually, with time, rear its ugly head again. Was it still in a position to acquire information though?
"I'm glad you asked Jon," the professor said. "Communications Chief Blaster and Mechanics Chief Perceptor have constructed and programmed a radio device for the purpose of scrambling the radio waves and energy flux given off by the groundbridge, therefore making it invisible to any sort of scanner. They've been established and planted throughout the county so the Autobots should have no problem using the groundbridge in this area without being detected."
"Sweet!" Miko cried happily. "Can the bots go robot-form here?"
Dr. Sumdac scratched his head. "Well...we are quite far from the community but I don't think it is my call to make." The good doctor looked past the youths to address one of the Autobots behind them. "Officer Jazz, do you know if it is permitted for you and your associates to be in bi-pedal mode around the estate?"
"For the most part, no," Jazz said, shifting slightly in his vehicle mode. "We can transform behind the building because it is a blind spot, but as for the rest of the area, we can't risk anyone who might be traipsing about in the forest seeing us."
"I'm sorry to hear that Jazz," Jon said regrettably.
"Don't worry about it bud, I'm still pretty new to this whole robot in disguise gimmick, but...I can live with it."
"It's not as bad as it seems," Bulkhead said. "You get used to it."
"Speak for yourself Bulk," Sideswipe said. "I can't even go 100 mph around here."
"It's something we'll have to deal with Swipes," Sunstreaker said. "It's the law and we have to respect it."
If Wheeljack was in robot-form, he'd, at this very moment, be smirking deviously. "We may not get to go full-throttle Sideswipe, but there's other kicks on this planet that go with being a robot in disguise."
The twitching rear view mirrors betrayed sinister interest. "I'm listening," Sideswipe said.
Arcee sighed. "It's my lot in life that I have to be lumped in with these immature bozos."
"You know you love us," Bumblebee laughed.
"Do I know that?" Arcee said with feigned ignorance.
00000
"Man, this place is huge!" Jon cried as he observed the interior of the estate's living room.
The floors were tiled with polished marble. Oriental carpeting traipsed certain comfort areas in the room. The walls were encrusted with bricks which looked like it was carved right out of the mountain.
"Forget the size," Vince exclaimed. "Look at this view!"
And the most startling feature of this estate was the floor-to-ceiling windows, which showed an incredible view of the city of Denver. And hanging from the center of the room was a chandelier, its design consisting of three shining rings engulfing one another.
"I can see the city from here," Katie said in awe.
"Uh...seems kind of out in the open doesn't it?" Sierra asked nervously.
"What do you mean?" Katie asked.
"Well...in the unlikelihood that someone finds us and with a big window like this-"
"You needn't worry Ms. Krosney," Dr. Sumdac said. "The window is specialized one-way glass. We can see through it but no one can see through it from the outside. Plus, it is reinforced glass of my own design. Quite impervious to all manner of artillery."
"So…" Raf said. "There's no way this house can be traced?"
"Almost impossible," Dr. Sumdac said. "It was bought, paid for, and is being held by a holding company so it cannot be traced back to me."
"Holding company? Like from one of your shareholders?"
"Yes, exactly."
"What about school?" Katie asked. "We're not going to be in hiding forever?"
"In hiding forever?!" Dr. Sumdac exclaimed. "Certainly not! You will be attending a private school. Your credentials and records will not be accessible or made public. You will be quite safe there."
"Will there be school activities?" Sierra asked nervously. "Like…?"
"Cheerleading? I'm sure there is. If that is what you like."
"But don't we need to keep a low profile?" Jack asked.
"We do," Dr. Sumdac said. "But that's no reason to stop living your lives. You needn't worry, whatever you might do here in Denver, it will not reach unwanted attention or be leaked to anyone who might be in league with MECH."
"How?" Jack asked.
"I think I can explain that," a new voice rang in.
Agent William Fowler walked into the living room. Instead of wearing the usual suit, he wore civilian wear: a black polo shirt, khaki slacks and a pair of Ray-Ban sunglasses.
"Dad?" Jon said.
"Hi son," Agent Fowler said with a smile. "Now, Blaster will be in charge of seeing to it that nothing of your presence nor the presence of your families in this area gets out. Whatever image or word of any of you will be omitted and sanitized. You're all as good as ghosts."
"What about the people in the town?" Katie asked. "What if someone takes our picture or a picture which we just so happen to be in and they post it?"
"Blaster will either wipe it or doctor you out of it. No worries."
"I just have one question," Vince said, his brow bristling with suspicion.
"Just one?" Jack said.
Vince ignored him. "Are we just going to be spectators or are we actually going to contribute here? I mean our lives and our families are on the line here."
Agent Fowler smiled grimly. "You are a minor. And I can't officially sanction any action on your part."
"What about the…" Vince winced. "...the car chase?"
"It was a desperate situation and we had no choice in the matter."
Vince opened his mouth to protest but Agent Fowler cut him off.
"Just be patient son, I'm working on it."
Vince blinked. "What are you saying?"
"Later later," Agent Fowler said dismissively. "For now, let's get you all settled in. I'll show you to your rooms."
00000
Raucous laughter.
"Ok ok, stop me if you guys heard this one," Bumblebee said. "On second thought, don't stop me. Why does Jetfire turn into a jet?"
The mention of the name of a certain Autobot who had been counted among the missing sent a sting through the sparks of the Autobots present. But they decided to enjoy themselves in memory of their friend. No sense mourning his absence forever.
"Because he likes to...wing it?" Wheeljack chortled.
The other bots snickered, choking back laughter. With the exception of Arcee, who preferred to maintain her tough girl persona rather than laugh heartily with friends.
Bumblebee laughed. "Nope, because he's a robot in da skies!"
Stronger laughter followed.
"Nice one Bee!" Sideswipe said.
"Oh snap, that was good!" Wheeljack said.
Jazz's laughter subsided and his voice became melancholy. "I wish Ol' Jet were here to hear that."
Sideswipe sighed. "Yeah, he'd probably say something like…" And then attempting his best of the accent Jetfire was known for, he said, "Not bad ya little bugger."
The other bots continued in their laughter.
"Alright Bulk," Bumblebee said. "It's your turn now."
"Ok ok, hmmm," Bulkhead said. "Can you guess what kind of music I'm into?"
"Rock and roll out?" Jazz asked.
"Nope, heavy metal!"
The Autobots cried in joyous unison, "Ohhhhh!" And they laughed aloud.
Arcee almost smiled beneath her vehicle form at the joke.
"Oh man!" Jazz said. "When was the last time we had a good laugh like this?"
"I can't remember," Sideswipe said.
"What about all those times we stood in a circle and told jokes?" Bumblebee chimed in. His look became ashen in an instant as he was reminded why it had been so long. "That was before...before…"
"Ya had lost your voice box," Jazz said sadly, finishing the scout's chief thought.
"Yeah," Bumblebee said mournfully. "That's right." Then his voice became hard. "No, not lost. Taken, by Megatron."
"Easy Bumblebee," Sideswipe said placatingly. "Let's just continue."
Bumblebee sighed searingly. "Good idea."
"Alright, I guess it's my turn," Arcee said as though it being her turn to tell a joke pained her.
"Yeah!" Jazz cried with excitement. "Let's see what you got Cee-Cee!"
Arcee groaned. "I thought we'd agreed you'd stop calling me that."
"When did we agree on that?"
"Never mind, now, let me think…"
The other bots would lean in if they weren't in vehicle mode. They were quite anxious to hear what joke the steely Arcee would tell.
"Ok, here's one Jack told me that I remember, I think he got it from a...a movie." Arcee cleared his throat. "There was a boy and a girl, the boy said to the girl,'I just met an old man with a wooden leg named Smith,' and the little girl says,'Oh really? What's the name of his other leg?'"
No one laughed at that, not at first anyway. Arcee was a bit disheartened at first when none laughed.
That is until Bumblebee choked.
It seemed to cause a chain reaction as the other bots busted out laughing as well.
Arcee was very pleased with her joke.
Cliff would've loved that one.
The very thought of her late partner caused her spark to drop and she no longer felt pleased.
Her spark was no longer glad but melancholy, knowing that not only her but his friends would never share a laugh with him again.
"Arcee? You alright?"
Jazz's question seemed to bring Arcee out of her sad stupor. "Huh?"
"You kinda went away for a second there, you ok?"
"Just...thinking. That's all."
Jazz knew at once. "About Cliff?"
Arcee back pedaled in shock. "How…?" she croaked.
"Call it a hunch."
Arcee said nothing.
"I miss him too Cee," Jazz said.
"We all do," Bumblebee added.
Arcee still said nothing.
The other bots took a moment of silence as they each remembered their fallen friend.
"He was a great guy," Sideswipe said mournfully.
"Yeah, he was alright," Wheeljack said.
"You wanna talk about it Cee?" Jazz asked.
Arcee remained silent.
Jazz took it as a no. "It's cool. Just know we're all here for you, ya dig?"
Arcee turned away. "Sure Jazz, thanks."
"Where ya going?"
"For a drive." Arcee activated her hologram and she took the long driveway down the hill of the estate, out of view.
None spoke. The melancholy air was still quite thick, especially for those who knew Cliffjumper.
"Sheesh," Sunstreaker said, breaking the tense silence. "I've been gone longer than I thought."
"You don't know the half of it, Sunny," Bumblebee remarked wearily. "So where have you been?"
"You mean since before I came to earth?"
"No, I mean during the war. We haven't seen you in ages. Some of us thought you were dead."
"I've been searching for reinforcements in the Forbidden Zone," Sunstreaker said.
"Where?"
"The Forbidden Zone Bee," Jazz said as though he were describing a terrible omen. "That's basically where the Rust Plague hit the Cybertronian colonies the hardest."
"Yeah, I've heard of the Forbidden Zone," Bulkhead said. "But why is it Forbidden? The Rust infection died ions who."
"Because it's hostile territory," Sunstreaker said. "Some of the kingdoms and nations that inhabit those planets are staying out of the war. Some of them may sympathize with the Autobot cause though. Some, not so much. But that's not why it's called the Forbidden Zone."
The other bots leaned in in their vehicle modes, eager to hear this ominous story.
"I cannot say for certain but in the darkest parts of that region, I say darkest because nothing shines there, not even stars, rumor has it that it is the dwelling place for those who follow…" Sunstreaker paused as though he were unwilling to speak the name.
"They follow who now?" Wheeljack asked.
Sunstreaker cleared his throat and spoke in a deep voice. "They are followers of the Great Deceiver, Unicron."
Silence reigned for a moment.
Unicron.
Hearing that name sent an involuntary tremor throughout all had heard it.
According to legend, to ancient Cybertronian lore, Unicron was among the first of all Cybertronians to live. These were called the First Ones. And as far as history goes, he was the first to fall to evil and became known as the Great Destroyer.
Unicron, in his twisted and wicked imagination, saw the universe as a doomed and corrupted thing, and thus be utterly destroyed so that a new world could be born anew.
For ions, he ravaged the universe and even Cybertron could barely withstand the unstoppable mass of slaughter and catastrophe at Unicron's terrible hands.
This era would be known as the First Decimation.
Primus, another one of the First Ones, was the bitter enemy of Unicron, who was equal in might and power. Unicron hated Primus and cursed his name as he was the one who could stand in his way and prevail. In his wisdom, Primus appointed 13 Cybertronians to be the champions who would overthrow and destroy Unicron. Because they were pure of spark, they were entrusted with great power and authority that would aid them in their quest. They were called the First Primes or more commonly the Thirteen.
They all but succeeded and it was commonly believed that Unicron was forever vanquished.
But some suspect that Unicron had not perished and was still roaming the universe, seeking to recover his former strength, and remaining hidden in some pocket of outer space.
Some simply dismissed it as simply folklore and not true history.
Some of those were Bulkhead.
He snorted. "Ok...so what?"
"So what?" Sunstreaker said, almost incredulous. "Have you ever been anywhere near the Forbidden Zone Bulk?"
"Uh...no?"
"Didn't think so." Sunstreaker paused for a moment as though to think on his words before continuing. "Whatever actually lies beyond that dark cloud, I have a very bad feeling about it."
"Yeah but worshippers of Unicron? What's the big deal? They're just another cult aren't they?"
"The big deal?" Sunstreaker said. "They're more than just another cult Bulkhead. They're fanatics to the core, and they are said to be literally monsters. As rumor would have it, they're sparkeaters, sorcerers and deathdealers. Bloodthirsty beyond all reason. The colonies dare not leave their homes and risk it falling prey to them. Even some of the 'Cons prefer to avoid dealing with them."
The Autobots shuddered.
"Sheesh," Wheeljack muttered. "Have you seen any of these...Unicronians?"
"No, and no one has really seen much of them either but I've heard stories," Sunstreaker said. "Those who have seen these maniacs are hesitant to even talk about them."
"What do they look like?" Bumblebee said, more interested than intimidated.
"Big, adorned in an all black finish, and they wear masks, horrible masks the witnesses said, like some kind of otherworldly predator."
Jazz said nothing. He just listened intently.
"And what's really strange is how quiet they were. The colonists who saw them say they hardly made a sound."
"That is strange," Bumblebee said.
"What? Did they grease their joints?" Bulkhead asked, half joking.
"This is no laughing matter," Sunstreaker said darkly. "These guys are a menace and I wouldn't advise messing with them, at least not yet."
"And this dark cloud you mentioned?" Wheeljaxk said.
"Their home, it's this part of the Forbidden Zone where it is darkest. I saw it from afar. The Black Valley is what they're calling it."
"Who's calling it that? The Unicronians?" Sideswipe asked.
"No, just the denizens of the colonies. I asked about the place but most of them are too scared to even talk about it. One old man told me this at least. Never go there, he said." Sunstreaker shuddered a bit. "Spooked me a little."
The Autobots were silent once more.
"Are there any colonies who can help us?" Bumblebee asked.
"None that can spare their forces or are brave enough to cross Megatron. Or leave their homes vulnerable to the Unicronians."
"So we're on our own?" Bumblebee asked grimly.
"For now. Queen Minerva might be in a position to offer some kind of help."
"Who?"
"She's the ruler of Archon."
"Archon?" Wheeljack said perplexed. "That's one of the ancient Cybertronian colonies, the first no less. And that's like two galaxies away. How did you make it there?"
If Sunstreaker were in bipedal mode, he'd be smirking triumphantly. "By hiding aboard a trade ship traveling by space bridge."
"Space bridge?" Bumblebee said. "I thought space bridge technology was a lost science."
"It was," Sunstreaker said. "But someone rebuilt them. Who? I don't know yet but whoever it was had to be a genius."
"And these...witches, these Unicron fanatics, are they a threat? To the Autobot cause I mean," Bumblebee asked.
"Not at the moment, but I think in time they soon will be. But it's not like they have any reason to come to some nowhere planet like earth right?"
"Not unless there's something infinitely valuable here that they'll rip through entire worlds to get it," Wheeljack said humorlessly.
Jazz said nothing.
If they only knew.
00000
"Wow! I just can't get used to this view!" Miko squealed with delight as she took in the landscape from the estate balcony.
"I hear ya," Jon said. "You can see the range of the Rockies as far as the eye can see from here."
"I know, so awesome!"
"Did you see the grand piano?"
Miko turned in a flash to look at Jon. Her eyes were glowing with anticipation. "There's a grand piano?!"
Jon recoiled from the foreign exchange student's vibrancy. "Uh...yeah. In the upstairs dining room."
Miko jumped in the air with a hyperactive squee. And she dashed towards the upstairs.
Jon watched her go. He rubbed the back of his head. "Jack has gotta be some kind of superhero to handle that kind of energy."
"I know right?"
Jon turned his head to see a newcomer come in on the balcony.
"Hey Vince, done unpacking?"
"Yup. You?"
Jon Fowler shrugged his shoulders. "Eh, not yet." He leaned against the railing of the mountain estate, staring out towards the Colorado landscape which seemed to stretch as far as the mountain range.
Vince joined him. "You ok?"
"Yeah, just...processing is all. It's been a rather...chaotic past couple of months."
Vince snorted. "That's called an understatement."
"Without question. Ya think we'll ever go back to living normally?"
"Living normally?" Vince said ironically. "After all this? I doubt it." He raised an eyebrow. "Why are you saying 'you' like that?"
"Huh?"
"You're saying 'ya' instead of 'you.' What's up with that?"
Jon thought for a moment. And then he laughed. "I think Jazz has rubbed off on me. He has a very particular form of articulation."
Vince smirked. "Yeah he does."
Jon winced slightly and rubbed his right side, just below his ribs.
"You healing up ok?" Vince asked.
"Oh sure, it's mostly just the occasional sore spell. Just need to take it easy for the next couple weeks." Jon gave Vince a funny look. "How are you and Terror Jack coming along?"
Vince guffawed. "Terror Jack. Wheeljack hates that name you know."
"Really? I thought it was pretty awesome."
"Don't tell him that," Vince said. "He says 'Cons gave him that name to make him look bad, like he's some kind of terror bomber."
"Isn't he? For the 'Cons? The space robot nazis?"
"Well yeah, but that's not how he wants people to know him as."
"This is war," Jon said pitilessly. "There will be propaganda whether we like it or not."
Vince smirked. "Maybe we'll get some interesting names ourselves."
Jon looked at him.
Vince looked sheepish. "We're in this war now. You don't think we're going to be sitting on our hands forever?"
Jon frowned. "What do you think we can do?" He asked. "We're just kids."
"So what?" Vince said. "We're all in this anyway."
"We're not soldiers."
"Not yet," Vince protested insistently. "We don't have much choice anyway."
"What do you mean no choice?" Jon said.
"I mean that MECH has given us no choice. The 'Cons certainly won't give us a choice. We need to fight to protect ourselves or we're as good as dead."
Jon grimaced and turned back to the view.
Vince patted him lightly on the back. "I know it's rough, believe me I do. I'm still getting over my first blood."
"First blood?"
Vince nodded grimly. "Those MECH soldiers I ran off a cliff back in Jasper. I never killed anyone until that day."
Jon looked at Vince sympathetically. "I'm sorry man."
Vince shrugged. "Thanks."
"How's Sierra doing? I mean since she...you know."
"She's taking it well enough," Vince said. "She still has nightmares though."
Jon muttered something under his breath. "At least she has friends to support and comfort her."
"That's true." Vince sighed. "I can't believe got the drop on us like that."
"Well Dad said whoever double crossed us is being rooted out, even as we speak."
Vince clenched his fists. "I just hope whoever it is gets locked up for a long time."
"Here here."
00000
Agent William Fowler sat in the estate study, behind a mahogany desk, blinds drawn. He was on the phone, a specialized telephone that could not be traced or tapped, a courtesy of Dr. Sumdac and Blaster.
His unofficial partner, Captain Carmine Fanzone sat at a desk, adjacent to the far wall. He was looking through certain files and enjoying his third cup of coffee.
Fowler's brow was deeply burrowed.
"You're sure?" He said.
"I'm afraid so Bill. He fled before any of us could stop him. He killed two of our guys on his way out."
Fowler clenched his eyes, baring his teeth. "No," he choked.
"We're hunting him down as we speak."
"What does he know?" Fowler asked anxiously.
"Too much. But don't worry, he doesn't know where you and your gang is. I think it's safe to say that he doesn't even know about your increase in numbers."
Fowler nodded. The Autobots of course. Ever since they lost their mountain base, MECH communications has gone silent. Big win for us, at least until they finish licking their wounds.
"Bill, how's your wound healing?"
Fowler shrugged. "Well, I just sat down and I'm only a little sore, so I'm pretty good."
"Carving out your own chip? I always said you were crazy."
Fowler cocked a suspicious eyebrow. "Seymour, when did you ever say that?"
00000
"Blaster, status report."
Communications Officer Blaster taps at the holographic keyboard with lightning efficiency and skill, with his data tentacles implanted in the base mainframe, streaming and collecting data.
He answers, "Decepticon activity at a lull Optimus. MECH activity even less. Those sorry punks are hidin' like scraplets."
Optimus Prime nodded. "And communications."
"Silent and really dull. I think Ravage wasn't kidding when Airachnid told her that Soundwave went to pieces." Blaster thought better of it as he realized what he was saying. He said with increasing dread, "Can't say I blame him. If it had been one of my boys who had been captured and tortured for thirty years, and then our spark-link suddenly coming back online and then feel every inch of agony and fear of their captivity, as well as their resentment and hatred towards me for not rescuing them, I'd fall to pieces too."
Optimus looked sad.
Blaster stopped typing for a moment. His visage looked equally crestfallen. "Primus help me, I actually feel sorry for that unchivalrous boor."
"As do I Blaster," Optimus said. "As do I." The Prime paused in thought and after barely a minute, he continued his questions. "The children?"
"Fully established in their safe house. Their families too. I'll keep you updated and if anything remotely funky rears its ugly head, you'll be the first to know."
"Excellent," Optimus said, not at all put off by Blaster's colorful vocabulary. Having Jazz as his lifelong friend has made him quite used to it.
"Energon depots?"
"No new ones as of yet," Blaster said coolly. "The 'Cons have apparently pulled out, took whatever Energon they could and destroyed the rest."
Optimus' look was unreadable. "They've gone into hiding." It was not a question.
"Seems to be the case." Blaster sounded very pleased. But when he noticed the Prime's grim expression, his pleasure disappeared. "That's good news isn't it?"
"It is."
"You don't sound very happy about it."
Optimus regarded Blaster with a steely look. "I'm not displeased Blaster. This is the best news I've heard in a long time. But...I cannot help but feel this is merely, as humans put it, the calm before the great storm."
"Yeah," Blaster said nodding. "That sounds about right."
"Did you send the all-clear signal?"
Blaster gave an enthusiastic thumbs-up. "This morning. Encrypted per your instruction."
Optimus nodded. "Good. How soon can we expect arrivals?"
"Another month at least. Maybe two."
Optimus frowned.
"I'm sorry," Blaster said.
"Don't be," Optimus said gently. "I know you always do your best Blaster. We are very fortunate to have you and the rest of your company here."
Blaster grinned sheepishly. "You gonna make me blush boss."
Optimus turned away and he approached another Autobot, who was busy at his workstation.
Profoundly busy.
"Ratchet?"
"I just about got it Optimus," Ratchet said impatiently, who did not take his eyes out of his microscope. "It will require some testing before I can confirm the efficiency of the Synthetic Energon."
"And Perceptor?"
"He is still examining the Ground Bridge," Ratchet said, waving his hand in the direction of the transport. "He is hoping that with some tinkering he might be able to find a way to increase its transport range."
"To convert it into a space bridge," Optimus said.
"Precisely, but that is a long shot. Even if it is possible, we don't have the material necessary to make a space bridge a reality."
"True, but that does not mean they cannot be acquired," Optimus said.
"And where pray tell-" Ratchet took his optics out of his microscope to address Optimus faceplate to faceplate, "-are we to acquire this material? The Decepticons?"
Optimus did not answer. He just stared at the doctor. He blinked as though he saw something that baffled him.
Ratchet cocked a chevron brow. "What?"
The sound of snickering. Ratchet realized it was coming from Blaster, who was covering his mouth, stifling a laugh.
"What?!" Ratchet snapped, deeply annoyed. "What's so funny?!"
"Ratchet," Optimus said, getting the doctor's attention and with one finger, he pointed at his own optics.
Ratchet stared for a moment and then he too placed a finger near his optics and when he made contact, he felt something sticky and oily.
When he lifted his hand to examine what he had touched, he sputtered. His finger was lined with sticky oil.
He turned to his workstation and picked up a mirror. He looked in it and to his shock and outrage, his optics were circled with oil and it gave him the appearance of having ridiculous circular glasses.
"How did-?!" Ratchet stopped mid sentence and he examined his microscope and found that the eyepiece was smeared with the sticky black substance.
"Ratchet?" Perceptor said as he entered the command center. "Is everything alr-?" The mechanic paused as he stared at the good doctor, who was shaking with anger.
And then he saw what smeared around his optics.
Perceptor covered his mouth, not to stifle a laugh, as Blaster was failing to do, but to express shock.
Only one person could be behind this.
"He didn't," Perceptor almost whispered in disbelief.
"He did," Blaster said and he burst out laughing.
Ratchet exploded. "SIDESWIPE!"
Optimus simply rubbed his helm, as though warding off a coming migraine.
If the situation was not so dire, I might be amused.