"What's the procedure for Decepticon seizure?" Wheelie asked as casually as he could.

After another shift of mapping Iacon's conduits and tunnels, he had come to the command centre to log his safe return—he didn't know if this requirement was because the Autobots were worried something would befall him or because they were worried he would run away. Regardless, after millennia of isolation, Wheelie was determined to keep his newfound position in society and scrupulously followed the rules he had been given.

Only Perceptor was in the command centre, and by now, he had grown accustomed to Wheelie's non-sequiturs. "The protocol for Decepticons is greatly dependent on the situation, Wheelie. Did you have a specific location in mind?"

"Iacon, Cybertron."

Perceptor looked up from his comparison of their daily energy consumption records. "Wheelie, would this be a theoretical question, or have you seen a Decepticon?"

Wheelie had realised something else was in the tunnels two days ago, although he had not bothered to inform the other Autobots at the time—he might be following rules, but he was not going to ask for more.

They were only a skeleton crew anyway: the Dinobots, Springer, Arcee and Blurr, all left in Perceptor's charge to hold Cybertron while Rodimus Prime was dealing with affairs on Earth. One week earlier, Wheelie hadn't known any of them, and it might have been a million years since he had needed to get to know anybody. He wasn't certain of his own timeframe; by habit, he avoided memories from a time before Quintessa.

Perceptor was useful in that regard as the peaceful and disciplined scientist couldn't remind Wheelie of anybody from his past. The others sometimes did—Springer and Arcee's ready banter or Blurr's nervous energy would have fit right in with a past life if Wheelie had cared to make the comparison. He didn't, but fortunately long solitude had left him with several eccentricities. Once he discovered that his rhyming speech disrupted conversation attempts, he decided he wasn't going to break that habit.

However, he did like the novelty of being around people who didn't want to kill him, of shutting down with the confidence of coming online again and of having a right to his own supply of energy. Wheelie understood that all these things were privileges, and so he noticed something was living beneath Iacon who had none of them.

Accustomed to a lifestyle of stalking and hiding, Wheelie was confident in his own abilities to figure out what sort of creature was there without putting it on alert. It had been stealthy, so until today he had never seen more than flickers of movement, tracing it mostly by scratches on surfaces that he pretended not to notice. There had been even fewer sounds, but for most of Wheelie's life, survival had depended on sketching an intuitive picture of activity from minor changes in air pressure, in echoes, in electrical fields.

His first suspicion that it might be a Decepticon had come when he had realised it was tracking him—and that had been the advantage he needed today. Unfortunately, he couldn't risk going further without checking in with the authorities.

"Hunter found, lurk around, underground." Exposition was not in Wheelie's skillset; talking to himself had never required context. "Wheelie trap sneaky cat!"

Perceptor looked back at his records, at the mysterious spikes in energy consumption coming from different devices on different days, and with great composure, he brought up a reference image of a feline Decepticon. "Do you mean to say that you have apprehended Ravage?"

Wheelie brightened in recognition. "Yes!"

"While I recognise that this is quite an achievement, Wheelie, I must insist that in future you alert a senior officer prior to attempting capture."

Perceptor was more flustered than appreciative, but Wheelie merely nodded, offering neither repentance nor explanation. Back on Quintessa, he had frequently trapped Sharkticons and Allicons for spare parts or simply mental stimulation; like much of his past life, he was not sure how ethical the Autobots would consider such behaviour.

He maintained silence until Perceptor broke it with a sigh. "If you can give me the coordinates for Ravage's present location, we can arrange for retrieval and… proceed from there."

In Rodimus Prime's absence, Springer was currently responsible for Cybertron's defence and the Dinobots represented their army, but that had been on the assumption that any hostile activity would be coming from above; neither Springer nor the Dinobots were small enough to reach Ravage's location. Perceptor had Arcee accompany them instead, and both the veteran Autobots came armed.

"Ceasefire expire?" Wheelie asked, curiously. He had thought they were avoiding combat.

"Technically speaking, we haven't had any Decepticons agree to the ceasefire yet," Arcee told him. She was more serious than usual, either due to the mission or because she wasn't around Springer and Blurr.

"In absence of current data, we should infer from previous interactions with Soundwave and his cassettes that it is advisable to proceed with the utmost caution," Perceptor explained. "However, our objective is indeed to execute our mission without ballistic discharge."

For his trap, Wheelie had chosen a long duct that had been showing some wear, pretending to reinforce the stressed sections so that his observer would assume this was a simple repair job. It was a squeeze for Perceptor and Arcee to get there, but Wheelie had had the foresight to position the trap at the point where the duct ran through a wider space—whatever machinery had once been housed there had long since been recycled—so the other two Autobots could comfortably stand and assist him in cutting out the relevant section.

"The mass is surely insufficient…" Perceptor muttered as he lifted it down.

Wheelie had already realised it felt wrong. Instinctively, he scanned the area, fearing an ambush, detecting nothing. Arcee had drawn her gun at Perceptor's words, so he left her on alert while he checked the trap. As suspected, it was empty, the front barrier collapsed without any sign of being forced.

"Pressure plate, hmm?" Perceptor was distracted by his handiwork. "Spring-loaded barriers… triggered by Ravage's weight—an ingenious use of resources, Wheelie. Let's see, the ceiling is too low for him to feasibly escape by jumping… ah, he must have braced himself against the walls to push the barrier back to its horizontal position."

Wheelie had already seen the scuffs Ravage had left on the sides of his prison, and he was furious with himself. It was such an obvious vulnerability, but Sharkticons and Allicons had never been that smart. He found he did not like being outwitted.

"Do not be discouraged, Wheelie," Perceptor told him with absent kindness. "Ravage is no fool, and you did well to detain him in the first instance—"

Wheelie wished he would be quiet. Ravage had watched him the past two days; he was certain he was watching them now. He took a step away from Perceptor, trying to sense anything from the shadows.

Arcee laid a hand on his shoulder. "Wheelie, don't try this again on your own. He's going to be on his guard now, and he's more dangerous than he looks."

"Absolutely, you must refrain from any further attempt!" Perceptor agreed fervently. "We shall alert Rodimus Prime to the situation and await his orders."

Saving Perceptor the bother of worrying about it, Wheelie thought, angry with everybody now.

Arcee looked keenly at him and then back at Perceptor. "I've seen that expression before… on Hot Rod."

Wheelie might not understand her meaning, but Perceptor plainly did. "Ah. Well, while I cannot sanction further attempts to engage with Ravage, Wheelie, you may assist in researching a solution by installing a surveillance system down here. With Arcee's assistance."

Wheelie looked dubiously up at Arcee. She was slim in build but nearly twice his height and would have to crawl through most of the ducts and conduits. "Must be covert so as not to alert," he pointed out.

"Stealth operations are part of standard training for all Autobots," Perceptor assured him.

Arcee was less confident. "We might have covered stealth in training, but I can't say I've had a lot of practice." She gave Wheelie an apologetic grimace. "I'll try."

'Try' rhymed with 'die'. Grimly, Wheelie reminded himself that cooperation was the price of society, and he left the couplet unsaid.

Wheelie was not the only one angry with himself. It took every bit of willpower Ravage possessed to keep his optics dimmed as he glared down at the Autobots from his hiding place in a broken pipe. The unfamiliar one was plainly a new recruit which made falling into his trap all the more humiliating.

For now, he had no choice but to stay where he was and wait for them to leave. It had been four days since he had lost his connection to Soundwave; never in his life had he been so alone.

Both Soundwave and Ravage had known danger was coming from the moment of Galvatron's arrival. Megatron's spirit could still be sensed within Galvatron, but Unicron's interference ran through him like static, and on some level, they had known then that the Decepticon cause was lost.

At the time of Unicron's attack, Ravage had been in the lowest level of Shockwave's towers, covertly browsing through four million years of database backups for information that might help Soundwave and his fellow cassettes survive the collapse of Megatron's empire. When Shockwave had called the Decepticons to defend the planet, Soundwave had transmitted a private order for Ravage to shelter in place. The planet's radio frequencies had fallen silent shortly afterwards, but the groans and shudders of the assault on Cybertron had continued for hours.

When the final stillness came, the Decepticon city of Polyhex lay in ruins. Every Decepticon who had tried to defend from the ground was dead. Ravage came to the surface only to try and re-establish his connection to Soundwave. He failed, but he saw a couple of Autobots picking through the ruined city. Unseen, he retreated, slipping through the crevices of the destruction to the lower levels.

He found a monitor station still operating on its emergency power cell and transformed to slot inside and recharge. He had faith that as long as Soundwave was alive, he would try to come back for him, but he could not know whether Soundwave was alive or dead, let alone when he might have the ability to return.

It was the maddening blindness of ignorance that drove Ravage to Iacon a day later. He guessed correctly that the Autobots would be operating out of their historic capital; they had power running to the old system, and finding underground ports to recharge from was not difficult.

Information was harder. The Autobots were concentrated in Iacon's Dome on the surface, and the risk of discovery was too great for Ravage to venture there. Instead, he tracked the unknown minibot roaming the lower levels, hoping he would repair, install or leave something useful—all that had netted him was a lesson in humility.

He eavesdropped intently on Perceptor and Arcee until they left, but their conversation yielded little. The name Rodimus Prime told him nothing about their new leader, and he had already gleaned that they were working with minimal resources… which made him more concerned about what had happened to the Decepticons. Surely now was the time to contest the occupation of Cybertron?

The only useful information was that Arcee would be back with their presumptuous little scout, Wheelie. He intended to be ready for them.