When the Autobots returned to the tunnels, they maintained silence—at least conversationally. It was largely pointless: they had given their mission away when they discussed it out loud the previous day, and Arcee's doubts about her stealth capabilities proved well-founded, though Ravage noted that Wheelie moved with a soundlessness that spoke of long practice. Keeping pace with the Autobots, Ravage speculated that the only reason Wheelie insisted on silence was so that he could listen for him.
So much the better. He tracked them for a good hour, noting the locations of the cameras and microphones they installed, before he picked his spot: a small vent, missing the screen that would once have covered it. He settled in the shadows just beyond the opening, and when Wheelie glanced automatically down it in passing, Ravage let his optics gleam.
Immediately, the minibot plunged into the duct, Ravage already turning and running. Arcee's shouts to stop went unheeded, and she could not get through a passage this tight. Wheelie himself only went a few steps before transforming, making better pace in his streamlined vehicle mode.
Ravage didn't want that, but they were not going far. Ahead, the duct ended in another chamber, housing the broken remnants of an air filtration system. Ravage leapt the last stretch, spinning in mid-air to face Wheelie as he landed, prompting the Autobot to transform. To Ravage's amusement, he pulled out a slingshot, but importantly, he kept running forward, to the mouth of the duct, to the electrified plate Ravage had hooked up.
Wheelie screamed as the shock ran through him; then he collapsed.
The duct echoed with Arcee's frustrated cries, but she sounded no closer than before. Satisfied, Ravage used his teeth to pull a cable from the wall, cutting the power to his trap, before he sauntered around Wheelie, examining him. There was an unsteady flicker of blue in the fallen Autobot's optics, suggesting he was semi-conscious. Ravage gave them an exploratory swipe with one paw and was rewarded with another shriek of pain.
Wheelie flailed now, instinctively trying to return to full awareness, but Ravage hooked his front paws over the Autobot's shoulders and rolled them both onto their sides. In this position, his hind legs were free to kick; their claws raked the length of Wheelie's torso, and the Autobot started screaming again.
There was a distant explosion within the duct. Its force did little more than rattle the walls, but the accompanying photon flash was reflected from every angle, searing Ravage's sensitive optics. Shrieking himself, he released Wheelie, rolling away, instinctively seeking the shadows as they fell again.
He was coiled with eyes shielded when the second explosion hit; this one was close enough he could feel the shockwave, heard the duct tearing apart, the thudding as Wheelie was rolled across the floor.
"Wheelie!" Arcee hissed, and Ravage heard her finally entering the chamber. "Wheelie… are you OK?"
His vision was still sparking, but Ravage forced himself to look up, squinting at the blast hole where the duct used to be. Wheelie remained down, and Arcee was crouched next to him, one hand on his shoulder while the other held her gun ready. She was scanning the chamber, and although Ravage was fully exposed, it took her several seconds to discern him from the shadows. When her gaze finally settled on him, he pulled himself into a crouch and snarled at her.
Arcee narrowed her optics, levelling her gun at him before flicking a glance to Wheelie, alternating between checking his injuries and keeping an eye on Ravage. Eventually, she decided the scout's wounds weren't critical, and she focused on the Decepticon, lowering her gun. "Ravage, we don't want to fight. As far as the Autobots are concerned, the War is over."
It took two sides to end a war. Would she tell him what the Decepticon view on this was? Ravage stayed where he was, but he tilted his head enough to indicate he was listening.
"If you come with us quietly, we'll help you contact Soundwave. Or any other Decepticon out there. We know some survived."
How very like the Autobots: they would benevolently grant him asylum in the hopes he would lure other Decepticons to the humility of their peace talks. Ravage smothered the snarl that rose in reply, and he edged closer.
Her face softened in response. "You have our word, Ravage, we'll let you leave Cybertron unharmed."
He believed she was sincere when he saw her shoulders relax. However, he had no desire to be a pawn in Autobot political games. He pounced.
Caught off guard, she was knocked down by his impact, her gun clattering to the floor. His front claws slashed at her face—if she raised her arms to shield it, his hindlegs could lacerate her torso.
She was not falling for it. Ignoring the claws, she gripped his forelegs just below the shoulders and hurled him across the room. He twisted into the spin, landing on his feet before she got to hers, but she had snatched up her gun first.
"I might not have had much practice with stealth and diplomacy, but I'm really well drilled in combat!" she snapped. Nothing soft about her now; she was aiming directly at his optics. "Don't try me again!"
Ravage was sorely tempted, but he was unlikely to get away without serious injury if he tackled her while her guard was up. He regarded Arcee with deliberate coolness before he turned and leaped into the ruined machinery behind him.
He spied on her for all the good it did him. She managed to rouse Wheelie, and to his disappointment the smaller Autobot was able to stagger out by himself. Ravage stretched out his forelegs, remembering Wheelie's cries. He felt confident he would get another chance at him.
Springer looked Arcee and Wheelie up and down. "So… you found Ravage."
Wheelie bore deep gashes from head to toe, and Arcee supposed her head and right shoulder did not look much better. "While we're stating the obvious, he's not accepting our truce," she replied in a tone flat enough to indicate further sarcasm would not be appreciated.
Despite being half-blind and too woozy to transform, Wheelie had insisted on getting back to Iacon headquarters on his own feet. He was fuming as much at himself as at the escaped Decepticon, and in Arcee's experience, the worse an Autobot's temper was, the less dangerous their injuries. After today, she suspected that their odd little refugee had more traits in common with the average Autobot soldier than they had first thought.
Arcee herself was newly graduated from the training barracks and used to being the smallest party member on a field mission. She could have ferried the injured minibot in her vehicle mode, but her sympathy allowed Wheelie his pride, and she had patiently supported him on their long walk back to Iacon's Great Dome. The ancient shuttle launch was still functioning as an open-plan centre for Autobot operations until decisions for the city's future could be finalised.
When Springer made as if to scoop Wheelie up, Arcee waved him away, shepherding the minibot the last few steps into the area designated as a makeshift repair lab. She had radioed ahead to warn Perceptor that Wheelie would need repairs, but the scientist was still shocked by their condition.
"While I anticipated the lacerations, may I request a more detailed damage report?"
"Zap trap," Wheelie muttered, glaring into the middle distance.
"Ravage had an electric shock set up—enough to stun Wheelie so he could work him over," Arcee explained. "The photon bombs worked to drive Ravage off… may have put a few extra dings in Wheelie as well. I wasn't in the best position to aim."
"Lost my cool; played for fool."
Always fussy about electrical damage, Perceptor hustled Wheelie onto a workbench. "You require a complete reset to ensure your systems are properly calibrated and synchronised," he told him, ignoring the minibot's vague protests as he manually sent him offline. "Did you run a diagnostic on yourself, Arcee?"
"All my wounds are superficial. Focus on Wheelie."
He looked her over briskly, before transforming to microscope mode to examine Wheelie. "It is fortuitous that he missed your optics, Arcee, but wait here for a full examination. Ravage's claws are long and frequently penetrate further than the victim realises."
This less than reassuring remark left Arcee freshly aware of how painful each and every one of her scratches was. Unconsciously, she started picking at her torn shoulder, and Springer nudged her hand away.
"In my unprofessional opinion, you've survived worse," he told her cheerfully. "All you need to worry about is whether you want Perceptor to fix those scars or leave them so people ask you for the story."
She side-eyed him, resisting the urge to find a reflective surface. "Shouldn't you be worrying about how we're going to handle our Decepticon invader?"
Springer sighed, leaning back against a counter. "Would it be the craziest idea to leave him for now? It's not like he's got opposable thumbs… What do we expect him to do?"
"He poses a security hazard," Perceptor murmured vaguely as he changed back to robot mode and started working on Wheelie's optic.
Watching him was making Arcee's face hurt more, and she sought a distraction. "We did get most of the cameras set up… Want me to switch them on?"
"Please. I will incorporate all the available data in my next report to Rodimus, and we can await his instruction."
Arcee set her face as she ran up the steps of the raised platform that held the control centre and Teletraan Two. Obviously, their commanding officer needed to know the details of any Decepticon presence; another, equally valid perspective was that a full account of her mixed performance against a Decepticon less than half her size would be sent for review to the guy she had been flirting with for the past three years. Dissociation was a work in progress.
Springer, who had fewer complications in his relationship with the new Prime, persisted with the discussion. "Y'know, we can interpret that available data for ourselves, come up with some recommendations for our esteemed leader..."
Images suddenly started popping up on Teletraan's monitors, and Arcee grimaced. "Speaking of available data, here's what we got shredded for: Video feeds of empty tunnels."
Springer joined her in the control centre, only slightly less dubious as he studied the feeds over her shoulder. "If nothing else, at least we can monitor for any changes." He turned and leaned over the rail, trying to get Perceptor's attention again now that the scientist had moved on to less delicate repairs. "Ravage has been here three days, by Wheelie's estimate, and he only attacked when we provoked him. Rodimus is planning to get back here in another couple of days—"
Wheelie had barely finished rebooting, but he tried to push Perceptor's hands aside to get back into the conversation. "Why wait 'til then? I'll try again!"
"You wanna put that sense of righteous vengeance on ice, kid?" Springer casually hurdled the rail and dropped to the floor. "Let's figure out a plan first, get our latest Prime to sign off on it, then go Ravage-hunting."
Arcee took the more conventional route down the stairs. "Don't worry, Wheelie, we'll get—"
She broke off when Perceptor held up his hand. The scientist was frowning up at Teletraan Two which was emitting a mild pinging notification and scrolling a wall of text. Then a look of horror crossed his face, and he dove for the failsafe switch on the wall.
The next instant, they were plunged into darkness. Perceptor had severed all power to the Dome.
"I have been inexcusably obtuse," he told them, audibly upset. "Those surveillance systems you installed in Ravage's domain have a direct connection to Teletraan Two."
Realising what he meant, Arcee groaned. "And Ravage plugged into the surveillance system. Great Matrix, we all should have caught that… but there's nothing too sensitive on Teletraan anyway, is there?"
"Serendipitously not at this preliminary stage of our re-establishment. We will have to change the security codes, but that is a relatively simple procedure." The scientist flicked on some emergency lights and bustled off.
"Once everything's back up and running, remind me to tell Rod he's gonna need someone with a much broader skillset to handle Cybertron's defence," Springer muttered.
"Best defence is offence!" Wheelie's optics gleamed as he sat up on the bench. Arcee supposed she should be more worried by his newly-revealed penchant for violence, but right now, she was scarred, stinging and firmly in sympathy with Wheelie's sentiments.
"While you're at it, Springer, tell Rodimus to bring Steeljaw and one or two of the other cassettes back with him." She gave the minibot a conspiratorial grin. "If you can let your revenge go cold, Wheelie, we know a few guys who can help you serve it up. Stealth-experts and everything!"
"Because nothing says 'ceasefire' like making things personal." Springer folded his arms and gave them his best sardonic glare.
Wheelie paid him no heed, sincere enough to forego a rhyme as he nodded to Arcee: "Thanks."
Even though he was in cassette mode, Ravage growled into the dataport when the connection to Teletraan Two disappeared. He should be grateful for such an easy ticket into the Autobots' database—even getting those seconds of access had been a phenomenal stroke of luck—but with no time to look through it properly, he had been downloading blind. Now he could only hope that the files he'd taken were enough.
They weren't.
He had searched by date, ripping the files that had been uploaded to the system in the first days after Unicron's fall. These held a wealth of information on how the Autobots had defeated Unicron and retaken Cybertron, who had survived and the status of their military power. They would make for a highly useful report to Soundwave. What they did not have was information on any Decepticon's whereabouts. Save for a confirmed sighting of Blitzwing the day after Polyhex' abandonment, the Autobots appeared to have no knowledge of any Decepticon activity since Ravage had lost contact with them.
He should have searched by the file's origin, Ravage realised, snarling again. He now knew that the Autobot leaders had gone back to Earth with the intention of maintaining the Autobot headquarters there. Where Iacon fit into their new regime, he couldn't be sure, but it was clear that the Autobots here were only rebuilding. If any Autobots were tracking Decepticon activity, it would be the ones on Earth. If he had thought to take the most recent report from Earth…
Or perhaps it wouldn't have mattered. He reviewed his recording of Arcee's words again: We'll help you contact Soundwave. Or any other Decepticon out there.
Did the Autobots know as little as he did? Did they hope to use him to gain information on his faction?
He was reading the same files over and over again, he realised, staying in cassette mode long past the point of recharge. It was all too easy for a transformer to lose themselves to that form of catatonia, stuck in a loop of familiar datatracks, especially in a mode with no movement and few sensors. Still, what purpose was there in action? He was a soldier with no command, a spy with no information.
The confrontation with Arcee and Wheelie had brought up a more serious lack: he had no recourse to medical aid. He had sustained very minor damage, but even so there were dents and stresses to his exo-structure that his self-repair systems could not remedy. Ravage was no coward, but he knew that had it been a Dinobot flinging him across the room instead of Arcee, the resultant impact could have crippled him. If he were too damaged to complete his transformation sequence, his options for recharging would be virtually eliminated.
It would be far safer to stay in cassette mode in this powered dataport and await a change in circumstances.
With a mental wrench, Ravage ejected and transformed. Soundwave would expect him to survive; survival meant existing, however inconsequentially. He slunk into his well-worn shadows, avoiding the camera's lens.
Author's Note:
There's no canon reference to say that Arcee's bad at stealth, there just isn't anything to say she's good at it—the cartoon usually had her providing cover-fire for Autobots making a direct assault. So, as I wanted to give Wheelie a strength over her, Velvetverse Arcee is now rubbish at espionage. (And when it becomes plot-convenient for her to improve, I'll say Wheelie gave her tips.)