Chapter 27: Developments

"Good," Sunstreaker said as I blocked his blow with my practice sword. "You're still a little stiff with that pede-work, but you managed to block me still. That's progress. Even if I am going easy on you."

"Progress is good," I said, gusting air through my systems.

It had been a couple weeks since I'd been fully cleared for duty, frame healed from my time with the Decepticons. The time had been split between training under Ironhide for armor forging and combat training with several bots mostly.

During the course of painting my armor, a task the twin had assisted in, I had asked Sunstreaker if he could teach me swordplay and he had agreed more readily than I had expected with our disagreements about Drift. I appreciated it a lot, even if I could've theoretically asked a couple other bots, too.

"You're a good study," Sunstreaker said as we moved away from each other and he shifted into a different stance. "The fluidity of movement will come to you with practice and that's what our goal here is today."

I nodded and then moved as he lunged again, shifting my pedes as needed to get my blade into the right position to parry his blow. I didn't quite get the positioning right, so even though contact was made, his practice blade slid across mine to stab into my shoulder. I ducked and moved to avoid a swipe he took and lifted my blade to block the return blow he sent my way.

We kept training for some time, trading several blows with the practice swords as he guided me through putting the motions he had taught me into a more hands-on practice. As I started to become a bit smoother in my movements, he started picking up the speed. Not too much, just enough to be noticeable enough for me to have to adjust again. For me not to get complacent.

A ship flying overhelm distracted me after some time and he knocked me on my back with a hilt strike to my chin.

"Owww," I groaned. That had not been the first time I'd landed on my back.

"You can't afford to be distracted out in the field, femme," Sunstreaker admonished me.

"I gotcha," I said, accepting his help up, looking at the ship as it made its way toward the tarmac. It was clearly of Cybertronian make. "More bots, you think? Or neutrals making a pit stop?"

"I doubt many neutrals would make a pit stop here unless they're just unaware of the Decepticon presence," Sunstreaker replied dryly. "So they're at least dropping some bots off for us, I'd bet. I'm sure we'll find out who soon enough. Come on, back to it."

"Right," I said and moved with him back into position.

Dreadwing walked through the halls of the Nemesis with Spinister and Darkwing flanking him. His travel companions were silent, thankfully, as they traversed the halls to the bridge to meet with Megatron. Darkwing was actively catching up on the reports they'd been given to read—that Dreadwing and Spinister had already read through during the trip through the solar system.

He remained dubious of their leader's plan that had called them here, that had had them digging around back on Cybertron for what Dreadwing now carried in the case held at his side. He was not sure what Megatron hoped to accomplish.

He wasn't sure if he wanted to know why he had desecrated a grave.

"Ah, there you are," Megatron said pleasantly once they were standing before him.

"Yes and I have a few questions," Darkwing said.

Dreadwing had to fight not to show his annoyance with the smaller flier. Honestly the mech had had two cycles to read the reports and voice questions before now.

"Does this femme really have information about the future?" Darkwing asked skeptically. "And if Unicron is here…why are we?"

Megatron's lips curled in displeasure. "Darkwing, correct?"

"Yes, my lord," Darkwing replied.

"If memory serves, you've been a loyal Decepticon all these years and have been a valuable asset," Megatron said silkily. "You won me many battles back on Cybertron. So I'll forgive your insolence just this once." He leaned over, presence oozing menacing intent. "But if you ever question me again, you will know what it means to feel pain to your very core. Do you understand?"

"Y-yes, Lord Megatron," Darkwing stuttered a bit, feeling the very real threat behind his words.

"The answers you seek will be answered in due time," Megatron continued, standing back up to his full height. He looked back at Dreadwing. "Did you bring what I asked?"

"Yes, my lord," Dreadwing replied and held the case out to him. "Though I do not understand what you hope to accomplish with a dead mech's arm. It doesn't appear we are hurting for spare parts."

Megatron smirked, the expression looking close to something glee on the warlord's face. "That, too, you will understand in due time, Dreadwing," he said smoothly.

Darkwing shot the two larger mechs an incredulous look.

"You are dismissed to get settled and debriefed on the rest of your mission here," Megatron told the trio.

"Of course, my lord," Dreadwing bowed.

Then he led his travel companions back out of the bridge, where a Vehicon met them to escort them to their quarters.

"What the frag?" Darkwing complained. "How come you didn't get threatened with bodily harm for questioning him?"

"It's a matter of respect," Dreadwing replied. "Your tone lacks it. I have built my reputation upon it."

Darkwing scoffed at that, clearly not in agreement. "Whatever, kissaft," he said. "No such thing as respect in the 'Cons. Right? Tall, dark and silent?" Darkwing looked around Dreadwing at Spinister.

The dark red mech merely lowered his helm a little, red optics narrowing slightly. He made a noise that might be considered a grunt, but it was hard to tell.

Dreadwing sighed in annoyance. He was glad when the Vehicon came to his quarters and he could peel off from the two other Decepticons for the first time in two jours. Such a long timespan with only those two mechs as company was bound to drive any sane mech to the brink of insanity.

"Don't poke it if you don't know what it does," Ultra Magnus admonished.

Chromia chuckled as I looked up at the mech with a look I could even feel the defiance from and then proceeded to poke one of the shards he had added to our collection anyways.

"Do you intentionally disobey your superiors?" Ultra Magnus asked, tone irritated.

"It is a mild habit from what I have gathered," Prowl commented, watching as I puzzled over the new shard and how it compared to the ones we'd already gathered, which were currently in Wheeljack's lab for analysis.

"I do not," I said, standing up straight as I felt offended at Prowl throwing me under the bus.

"I believe we met when you left base before being cleared for active duty," Prowl said, looking as amused as he ever allowed himself to appear.

"That was different," I said. "And I've hardly disobeyed an order since. I even waited to leave medbay until Ratchet said I could."

"Yet you standing here arguing with your superiors does not give me faith in your propensity to follow orders," Ultra Magnus said, sounding like he was ready to give me a strongly worded lecture followed by several strongly worded emails following up three days later.

I gave him an equally irritated look. "I'm cheeky one time and all my following the rules suddenly doesn't matter, eh?" My wings flicked in irritation.

"Easy, fembot," Iornhide said, placing a hand on my shoulder. "Don't actually start a fight with Magnus now."

I huffed a little, turning away from staring up at the taller mech, the bits of armor that kept their feather-like properties from my altmode—kibble Ironhide had called them—bristling. I wasn't trying to start a fight with the mech, but the implication that I was an insubordinate underling that needed chiding rubbed me the wrong way after all the effort I had put into following orders and not outright disobeying directions over the course of my medbay stay.

"You two will learn to communicate in time," Prowl reassured, turning to tap the edge of his datapad on the table. "Now, seeing as how Optimus is occupied with another meeting, I will catch you up to speed, Ultra Magnus, and then you can share with us the tale of how you came into possession of your two shards."

Ultra Magnus gave me a long, hard look, as if debating whether he was going to let what he undoubtedly saw as an attitude go. Then he finally turned his attention to Prowl and motioned with a hand. "Very well," he said.

I sat in my seat as the others all did so and listened to Prowl recap how we had come into possession of our shards. As he did so, I inspected the shards some more, Elita's translations of the inscriptions pulled up on my datapad. Each one had a different inscription:

Chromia: Fierce

Sideswipe: Tenacious

Mine: Resilient

Ultra Magnus: Steadfast

Bluestreak: Persistent

I noted that they all seemed to be traits one could assign to be characteristics. It was like the shards were taking the bots who found them and labeling them with these words. Words that seemed to fit from what I could tell. I couldn't say for certain on Bluestreak, but I was more than certain those who knew the others well would agree with me.

"Have you been listening, Shadebreaker?" Ultra Magnus asked a while later as I was deep into reading Elita's translations of the inscriptions at the entryways.

I shifted a wing, looking up at the mech. "Yes," I said. "I'm listening. You found your shard in an ice cave on Pluto hidden in a set of ruins much similar to the ones we've found thus far here on Earth. And Bluestreak's was on the moon. You have provided the images of the murals painted in each of them and the inscriptions at the entrances that seem to match the ones from ours." I waved at the images scattered above the meeting table that Elita had been sorting through and updating notes fed into each of our datapads while the mechs talked. I stared at him, challenging him to be upset at me for double tasking when I was not the only one doing so.

Ultra Magnus's lips formed a thin line as he stared me down. He opened his mouth, but Elita cut him off.

"Actually," she said, raising a hand with a frown. "There is a difference in the inscription of one of them. The one they found Bluestreak's Shard. The one labeled Persistent."

I looked at the mentioned Shard and poked it, giving it a look of curiosity.

"It has a number," Elita said, pointing at a corner that seemed to be broken off of every other slab of inscription we'd come across. "Ten."

"Is that the total number of Shards?" I wondered. "Or is that Shard number ten out of whatever final number?"

"What makes you think the number means anything?" Chromia asked.

"Why would it be there at all if it meant nothing?" I asked.

"It could be the number of cycles that have transpired," Prowl pointed out logically. "If your previous thoughts of the murals alluding to some kind of cycle are accurate."

"That would require the number being changeable," I said, tone one of discussion, not argument.

"It does not appear as if it was inscribed with change in mind and doesn't look corrected either," Ultra Magnus said, looking closer at the image himself now.

"Could something in one of the murals tell us?" Ironhide asked.

Prowl typed and brought up the four big murals side by side in large windows. We all moved to the sides of the table where we could get better looks, which put Magnus and I right across from each other as I stood to get a better look.

I tried to ignore his imposing figure as I looked between the images.

"It's hard to tell with everything in black," Ironhide gruffed. "Shade'? You have an optic for art details."

"To a degree," I said dryly, leaning closer and squinting. I looked between the images. I reached out and zoomed one image super far into one of the depictions of a Shard. I titled my helm at it. "Unless I am missing it, there's nothing here differentiating one Shard from another."

"Such is the trouble with stylized images sometimes," Prowl said with a frown. He zoomed in on a different one. "Some will over exaggerate differences, while others might do away with them altogether."

"Lotta good that does us," Chromia said. "How are we supposed to prepare for Unicron if they leave our clues so hard to figure out?"

I sighed, frustrated that my previous knowledge of Unicron was turning out to be useless for us. Even the alternative version of events I knew from fanfiction didn't hold any bearing here. No mention of Xel'tors or councils of something, something like in my best friend's story to be seen in the inscriptions. Part of me had hoped for some familiarity to it with the Shards.

"Is there anything in the inscription ringing any bells, Shade'?" Elita asked gently.

I held a hand out, spreading my fingers. "No, not really," I said. "None of the timelines I knew about included this as a cycle. And none have had this…gather things to deal with it approach. And now Ultra Magnus comes bearing Shards from off-planet. How do we even know where to look? Or when we have them all?"

"How do bots deal with Unicron in other realities?" Prowl asked.

"Well," I said carefully. "One had Optimus use the Matrix to put him back in stasis, at the cost of his memories and that ended up temporary and later his spark ended up being trapped in the container for the AllSpark, leading to Optimus containing the AllSpark himself and then sacrificing himself to save Cybertron."

Some of the bots flinched.

"Another universe it was a massive battle that eventually lead to Unicron being killed by Wreck-Gar in the end," I said. "For us, that would look like letting Earth get destroyed, which we don't want. And I doubt anyone here wants to see Optimus ultimately end up dead if we can help it."

"Indeed," Ultra Magnus said. "As well as wishing his memories to stay intact."

I nodded my agreement, grinning a bit up at the mech. "Glad we are in agreement." I looked back at the images.

"What timeframe did you say you reckon we have on this?" Ironhide asked me.

"If it follows the same timeframe as the other reality in which Unicron is Earth's core," I said, pulling up a calendar. "Until the planetary alignment—the time of the prophecy. About here." I pointed to a spot on the calendar.

"Three months left," Chromia said. "Not much time to figure out the rest."

"I mean, there's always the Matrix as backup, but we all agree we'd rather not," I said. "There has to be some way to figure out what's missing."

"Your father might know," Elita offered gently.

"And how do you suggest we contact him?" I asked, crossing my arms. The only ways coming immediately to mind were unpleasant and I was feeling grouchy that not even having my life threatened had brought his attention toward me.

"Have you tried to portal to the pocket dimension he walked you through when he…recovered you from Shockwave?" Elita asked, not bothered by my irritation.

My wings shifted slightly and I ground my denta a bit. "I do not think it's going to be that easy," I said quietly. "But…for the sake of the mission, I will try."

"Thank you," Elita said gently. "I know it will not be easy for you to talk to him either. After what he did."

I gusted air through my systems. "An understatement," I said. "And there's no guarantee that I can get in. It's possible that only he can access that place, you know?"

"I know," Elita said.

I sighed and then looked up at the images again once more, optics analyzing them for clues.

"You said Unicron's spark is contained within the AllSpark container in one reality?" Prowl asked.

"Yeah," I said. Then I recognized where he was going. "Can we…make a container of similar properties?"

"That would be a question for Wheeljack and Perceptor," Prowl said. "But theoretically that would be the end all solution."

"The AllSpark is thought to be the spark of Primus Himself," Elita said in agreement. "It would stand to reason that something that can contain something that powerful should be able to contain Unicron's spark as well."

"But does it contain Primus's spark or does His spark just chill in it?" I asked curiously. "Cause I doubt Unicron would be inclined to cooperate with his imprisonment, even reduced to just his spark."

"That's….not something I ever considered," Elita said. "You continue to surprise me with some unique viewpoints, Shadebreaker. Thank you."

I shifted a wing, feeling sheepish as I rubbed the back of my helm. "That's just my neurodivergency. Nothing fancy."

Ironhide chuckled as the femme commander smiled softly. He reached over and rubbed my helm fondly.

"We will make sure to bring up this possibility with Wheeljack and Perceptor," Prowl said. "I believe Perceptor has studied the AllSpark before. He might have a grasp of how much we may need to reinforce the design to account for a more resistant prisoner."

"Indeed," Ultra Magnus nodded. "In the meantime, we should keep exploring these Shards. We may need them regardless."

I nodded in agreement.

"Are you certain about this, my lord?" Knock Out asked skeptically. "I mean, there's no guarantee this will work."

"I am certain, Knock Out! And I would caution you not to question me after you let her escape," Megatron snarled.

Knock Out flinched and resisted the urge to share a look with Breakdown. "Well, alright," he said. "You're the boss. I'll administer the sedative."

"No! I wish to bear witness to the attachment of my new limb," Megatron said firmly.

"Alright, then I suggest killing your pain receptors," Knock Out said, transforming his hand into his buzzsaw. "Amputation hurts like a bitch."

Megatron growled, but nodded at this direction.

Knock Out began carefully severing Megatron's fusion cannon arm with his buzzsaw and a torch to cauterize the wound as he went. He was half tempted not to be so careful.

Being restricted from ever leaving medbay, even to recharge, was making him grouchy and irritated. Little knicks and a little extra bleeding would be easy to pass off as mistakes and as long as the end result was perfect, Megatron would let them slide.

But the medic in him wouldn't allow it. He may be a Decepticon, but he still had standards. Even if his medical license wasn't entirely legal.

Still, he could imagine unceremoniously chopping the warlord's arm off in an act of catharsis. And he could imagine putting the new arm on incorrectly with a slow flow of internal bleeding that could lead the mech to eventually have to come back to have it re-amputated at which point he could chop it off again.

An hour later the new, dead, arm was attached to the Decepticon leader and Megatron was flexing the digits slowly.

"It will probably be sluggish while your system integrates its circuitry into your neural net," Knock Out said. "Recovery time for these types of procedures are typically weeks, sometimes months. And your systems might reject it. I recommend high monitoring and physical therapy."

Megatron galred darkly at him and raised the newly attached appendage as if to backhand him.

Knock Out squeaked and raised his arms up to protect himself, backing up a step.

Megatron smirked at the reaction. "There will be no need, doctor," he said silkily. "Hold onto my old arm, will you? Don't want to lose it like you did my prey."

"Ye-yes, my lord," Knock Out said, spark feeling like it wanted to fly out of chest and somewhere far away.

He watched the warlord walk out of his medbay as if he hadn't just gone through surgery while awake and needed time to recover. Even with pain receptors turned off, there still was pain involved in such a surgery and inevitably he'd have to turn them back on to avoid permanently damaging them. He doubted the mech would return for pain meds, though, as the war lord always denied them, saying they were for the weak.

"Remind me why we haven't bailed," Knock Out looked at Breakdown dryly.

"I've been questioning that myself," Breakdown said, touching his badge slightly. "Waiting to confirm what she said about the future. If she was being genuine."

"Right," Knock Out said, sighing. "He still lets you leave medbay. How's it looking out there? Any sign of the creepy crawly?"

"I saw her speaking with Soundwave on the bridge," Breakdown said. "Something about the look in her optics…" He shuddered. "Reminds me of Ratbat."

"Ick," Knock Out said, shaking a hand as if to rid it of something gross he'd touched. "That's a lovely image I could've done without. Whatever happened to that ugly bat anyways?"

Breakdown shrugged.

"Just as well," Knock Out said. "He was always getting under my plating with his preening."

Ultra Magnus was silent and thoughtful as he ran his patrol that night. He had requested to take over the patrol from the bot who'd been meant to run it in order to help familiarize himself with the base. He and the ones who'd arrived with him had each been given the grand tour, but he preferred this way of becoming familiar.

It was peaceful, quiet, without distractions. He did not have to worry about the necessities of socializing. He didn't mind, of course, speaking with his fellow bots, but he often found other bots minded talking with him. He did not do small talk well. Rules, regulations, official matters. Those he could handle. Whenever he tried to "loosen up" it was awkward and unpleasant.

Here, at night when the others had all retired to their quarters and it was quiet, he didn't have to worry about any of that. He could focus solely on learning the streets and marking down anything that he saw needed adjustments. It gave him peace when there was so much to disturb his peace.

His audials picked up sound as he came to the part of the road that passed by the bot-only beach. It was far from the quartering area, so whoever it was would not disturb anyone asleep. It was a slightly unfamiliar sound, bird-like in nature, but he recognized a note of frustration in it. And he immediately knew what bot made it.

"Why?" Her voice reached his audials as he moved toward the hill that separated the beach from the road. "Just work!"

Due to his height, he could see her before reaching the top. He watched as she opened a portal, poked her helm through and then pulled back, closing it again with a frustrated motion of her hand.

"Of course it's not so easy," she growled in frustration. She practically stomped in a circle as she talked. "Why would it ever be easy to find frickin' answers? I was supposed to be helpful! How can I be helpful if I don't even know what the heck we're supposed to be doing?" She kicked the sand, sending a dust cloud into the air and crossing her arms.

Ultra Magnus frowned at the sight. It seemed a rather childish action, a tantrum. Unbecoming of an Autobot of enough rank to be included in meetings. Judging by her words, though, she had somehow gotten the idea it was her responsibility to tell them how to proceed and that might explain her frustration.

Still…

Just as he made to move, he watched her wings shift as she gusted air, taking on a more relaxed state.

"Ok, Shade', think," she said to herself. "Relax. You're not gonna get kicked out just cause your information is questionable in its usefulness anymore." She tapped her helm with her fist. "Don't let those stupid fears cloud your judgment and get you all worked up. And we have a backup plan, kinda. So even if this doesn't work, it'll be fine…it's gotta be fine. Otherwise everyone might…don't go there, that's not helpful…"

Ultra Magnus watched as she began pacing in the sand.

"Why isn't it working to open a portal to Vector's mini-pocket-universe-place-thingy? What have I been missing all day?" She wondered out loud. "Is it cause I need the coordinates? I can't just tell my portals 'Vector's Pocket Universe'? Maybe. Could be. Or maybe it's my approach? Or my emotions? The portals first triggered out of emotion…" she stopped pacing, trailing off as she looked at her hand. "Do I have to…not be angry at dear old dad to be able to access his dimension?"

A long silence happened.

Her wings shifted as if she had suddenly become aware of something and she suddenly looked his way. Her wings shifted again, uncertainly and a hiss came from her vocs at a nearly inaudible level. She didn't know what to think about his appearance or him catching her talking to herself, is what he read.

He moved to approach her and she shifted into an attention stance, looking uncertain. Her wings lowered and she looked up at him.

"At ease, I am not here to reprimand you," Ultra Magnus said.

She looked up at him with a doubtful looking frown. Impressive emoting for a bot who kept her optics covered by a visor.

"You do not believe me," he observed.

"You seemed ready to find any reason to chew me out earlier, sir," she replied, tone guarded, but not entirely lacking bite. She resented that a little.

Ultra Magnus pressed his lips into a thin line. "Perhaps if you had not been obstinate, I would have found no reason to find fault." He said. "I do not know how the others have run this base, but I expect respect."

Shadebreaker's lips pressed into a thin line. "So do the others," she said tightly. "But I know them. I don't know you. And you don't know me. Coming at me like I'm a disobedient underling that needs put in her place from the get-go is not appreciated. I know I can be a pain, I acknowledge that. But you would notice the others didn't treat my actions as serious slights against you until you basically accused me of being insubordinate on the regular based off a very minor slight. At which point I listened when Ironhide told me to stand down. And then you proceeded to find fault in me for double tasking when I wasn't the only one doing so. You only didn't say anything because Elita didn't give you a chance."

Ultra Magnus narrowed his optics at her, debating how to respond.

"I mean no disrespect toward you, Magnus," Shadebreaker said, looking up at him. "I would much prefer it if we got along. However, I will not stand being treated unfairly by anyone. Whatever problem you decided to have with me, best you drop it and start learning who I am for who I am. Not whatever you perceive me to be based on whatever you see or based on one little instance of me being cheeky with you. If I wanted to disrespect you, I would've done so in a much bigger way than poking something you suggested not to. And had it been out in the field and there was an indication that it was dangerous then I would've listened. Meetings, while formal, are still relatively low stakes.

"And you and I had just met," she continued, tone softer. "I'm gonna be a bit obstinate until I'm comfortable with you. You're the new guy in authority over me. That puts me on edge and I have to navigate that. If you come at every little flaw of mine, that navigation is gonna be a harder fight for the both of us. I won't give you serious push back if you don't treat me like garbage."

Ultra Magnus flinched a little. He could see how she felt like that. He felt called out. He had called her out for not paying attention only to be shown he'd been wrong and he had almost said something about her double tasking. But she was right. Elita had been double tasking the whole meeting—listening and translating.

"You are right," he finally admitted with a sigh after a long moment. "I apologize I made you feel as though I was treating you unfairly."

"It was more than a feeling," Shadebreaker bit out with a growl. "Don't dismiss it as a feelings issue, Magnus. That puts all the fault on me for being sensitive."

Ultra Magnus ground his denta. "That is not-" he cut himself off and sighed, pinching the bridge of nose.

Shadebreaker waited with a frown as he searched for the proper words. She almost spoke a couple times, but stopped herself with a look of frustration at her own impatience.

"I apologize for the unfairness of my actions toward you," Ultra Magnus finally said after several long minutes. "I looked at you as an insubordinate underling when I should've looked at you as I do any of the other bots in that meeting. While I do outrank you, you would not be in those meetings if the others believed you were an impertinent brat in need of a lesson in manners."

Shadebreaker looked up at him, wings relaxing from their tense state. "And I apologize, too," she said easily, holding a hand out, palm up. "I did start to get an attitude and that's what prompted Ironhide to warn me not to fight with you. I was not wanting to fight with you, but I admit that I would've in a different setting. And that is unhelpful to us getting to know each other. As I said, I am on edge regarding new authority figures. You are not the only one to go through this stage with me."

"Prowl?" Ultra Magnus asked.

"Believe it or not, no," Shadebreaker said, looking amused. "Elita, actually. We were doing some combat training and she called it done cause I had gotten injured and it hurt to move that part of me and I tried to argue with her."

Ultra Magnus winced slightly. "That was unwise," he said.

"Yeah, no," Shadebreaker agreed, wincing as she rubbed her side. "She floored me pretty hard and explained quite thoroughly why I needed to listen when my instructor told me we were done. And, well, I am sensitive, so I cried a bit. Cause I have lecture related trauma that I'm still working through. It wasn't as bad as when Optimus lectured me, though, and it was partially cause I was in pain and pain exacerbates my emotions."

"So it is not just me," Ultra Magnus said.

"No, you're just the newest superior, who I just met," Shadebreaker said. "But we will learn how to work with each other, like Prowl said. I will learn to trust you and you will see I'm not as much of an insubordinate underling as you think I am. And maybe someday I can learn to accept new authority figures into my life with greater ease?"

"We'll see," Ultra Magnus said doubtfully.

"Forgive and forget this time? Mutually?" She asked, holding her hand out again, fingers splayed.

"This time," Ultra Magnus sighed.

"Great," Shadebreaker said. "If that is all, I'm going to return to my attempts to portal into my father's backyard." She pointed behind her and shifted to move.

"Do you not sleep?" Ultra Magnus asked.

She paused. "I do," she said. "But I have been struggling since moving into my quarters. I got used to having other sparks in the immediate vicinity. I…didn't realize it was going to be a problem. But I'll adapt. Might as well make use of my time if I'm awake anyways, though, right?"

Ultra Magnus raised an optic ridge at that, but merely shook his helm. "I must return to my patrol, but I strongly suggest you get some recharge before the night is out."

"No promises," Shadebreaker said, making a hand motion he was unfamiliar with. "But I will try here soon if I make no progress in the next hour."

"Acceptable," Ultra Magnus said.

He left her at the beach with a lot on his mind.

Megatron walked into the lab with an anticipatory grin of his faceplates that made Starscream nervous.

Starscream, like any other mech who knew of Megatron's intentions of attaching a dead mech's arm to himself, was highly doubtful of the warlord's plan. Biology just did not work that way. Anyone with more than an entry level of understanding of the subject would know that. Why Knock Out had gone through with the procedure was beyond Starscream.

"Did you prepare the sample?" Megatron asked as he strode over to him.

Starscream motioned toward the dark energon crystal sitting upon one of the work tables. "As you ordered, my lord," he said, keeping his thoughts to himself. "The Forge awaits your command."

Megatron's lips curled into a pleased grin as he moved toward the table. He looked at his new hand with a greedy gleam in his optics and then reached for the hammer. He took it in his hand and hefted it, a pleased smirk when the lights adorning it glew in rich blue.

He raised it above his helm and Starscream saw the lights go out as his master remained oblivious.

Megatron brought the hammer down hard on the dark energon crystal, shattering it into shards.

"What?" Megatron asked, optics widening. "Why didn't it work?! It activated when I touched it!" He whirled on Starscream. "Explain!" He motioned toward the destroyed dark energon.

"Perhaps," Starscream said carefully, walking over and plucking a shard of dark energon from where it'd gotten wedged into the wall. "The Forge was momentarily fooled by the presence of the blood of the Prime in the arm, but when it sensed the spark past that it was no longer fooled into thinking you to be of the lineage."

Megatron growled darkly.

Starscream held his hands up. "It is only a theory, my lord," he said. "Clearly this is another case of the femme's information being faulty."

"Hmmm," Megatron hummed. "Faulty, Starscream? Or sabotage?"

"You don't mean to suggest our dear Knock Out incorrectly connected your arm, my liege?" Starscream asked, making a dismissing motion with his hands.

"I do," Megatron said with a growl. "The Forge recognized me for a moment. What other explanation is there?"

Starscream could think of several, but he knew better than to argue with Megatron. For once his ire was not directed at him for a failure—he was still aching from the beating he received over not getting anything from Shadebreaker before her escape. He wasn't going to risk himself, or his brothers, to argue for Knock Out. The medic would have to argue for himself.

Starscream shifted his optics uncertainly toward the shattered bits of dark energon scattered around the lab as Megatron left, Forge in hand.

"Lord Megatron," Knock Out said, looking over and acting as casually as ever to hide what he had previously been doing. "Back so soon? Did you have second thoughts about that physical therapy?"

Megatron snarled, whole aura menacing as he stomped his way over to tower over the medic. He lowered the head of the great hammer onto the floor with a loud thud right next to him.

"You know, Knock Out," Megatron said, glaring down at the red mech. "You did such a splendid job changing out my arm."

"Why thank you, my lord," Knock Out said, preening slightly. "I do pride myself in my work."

Megatron's lip curled. "So splendid, in fact, that I failed to remember that you could've slipped something by me right under my noseplate."

Knock Out hesitated. "I'm afraid I don't follow, my lord," he said, stepping back a bit as Megatron loomed closer threateningly.

"I went to test my wonderful new appendage, doctor," Megatron said with a flourishing motion of his new hand. "And do you know what happened?" He shot him a look Knock Out could only describe as challenging.

"I-I don't know, m-my lord," Knock Out said nervously.

"For a brief, wondrous moment, the Forge recognized me!" Megatron said. "But as I brought it down on the material with which I meant to forge the weapon to vanquish my foes…it failed me! It rejected me! And shattered the dark energon into pieces!"

"H-how unfortunate, my lord," Knock Out said. "But I did tell you it may not work."

"You did, Knock Out," Megatron conceded, taking a step forward, causing the medic to step back again, pressing him against the med berth behind him. "But it did work, however briefly. Which leads me to one conclusion."

"W-what's that, my lord?" Knock Out asked, though he had a sinking feeling that he knew.

"I think you know exactly what went wrong, doctor," Megatron snarled, reaching out for him. "And your treachery has earned you a taste of the pain Starscream gets for his."

The next twenty minutes in Knock Out's world was filled with nothing but pained and agonized screams as Breakdown was forced to watch helplessly.

Breakdown was quiet as he worked on repairing his partner after Megatron left medbay. Patching every leak and administering pain meds against his orders. He was not about to let his partner suffer needlessly over a mistake he did not commit. And he knew Knock Out had not done anything to sabotage the attachment of the arm.

"Breakdown…" Knock Out said quietly through the pain the meds could not take care of. "I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault he would not listen to reason, doc," Breakdown said.

"No, I'm sorry I brought our loyalty into question by doing what I did back then," the medic said and then grunted. "If I hadn't let her go…if…" He flinched as Breakdown worked. "Maybe he wouldn't be so quick to distrust me and we wouldn't be like this."

"Yeah, and then maybe I would be dead or living as MECH's experiment," Breakdown reminded. "You did the right thing, doc. And I'm beginning to question if coming back at all was the right call."

"What? You think we should've gone with Psychic after all?" Knock Out asked, mildly amused. "I thought you weren't sure if you even believed her information."

"That was before I read the files," Breakdown said. "I just knew where we were sent, not why or how we knew where to go. And the fact the arm almost worked…it's gotta mean something about her information, right? In some other timeline, what if it did work like that?"

"Alternative timelines would explain where the information-" Knock Out paused to flinch. "-has been inaccurate."

"The Omega Keys," Breakdown nodded in agreement.

"So she really isn't psychic, just from another reality? Huh," Knock Out hummed. "Wonder where the limit of her information lies…"

Breakdown shrugged. "Megatron doesn't believe we have all of it," he said. "He knows Shockwave omitted things, but not how much."

"How did you manage to find out?" Knock Out asked.

"Lunarstrike owed me a few favors," Breakdown replied. "And she's picked up some spy skills in her time as a 'Con while trying to find her trinemates."

"Right, poor femme," Knock Out said. "She and 'Screamer…no wonder they've taken to each other, being in the same boat."

Breakdown hummed in agreement.

"Does this mean you are thinking of taking Psychic up on her offer?"

"We'll have to be careful," Breakdown said. "You need healthy before we move. And we can't go empty handed."

"Agreed," Knock Out said, smiling weakly.