I believe I need no introduction. If you do not know who I am, you soon will.
Hatchet makes all his guests feel welcomed~
And ignore the glitch in the corner. He is irrelevant, aren't you, pet?
Y-yes, sir. C-completely irrelevant...
Residual taint from dark energon was always fascinating to study. It crept about the lines, slowly corrupting the systems from the inside out. The beautiful part, the part Ratchet normally enjoyed watching the most was the infection seeping into the spark. It started at the edges, flecks of insidious purple spearing inward. The infection would slowly overwhelm the spark, twisting it, snuffing out Primusâ given life into a twisted mockery of it.
Ratchet would have liked nothing more than to watch it snuff out the Seekerâs spark.
âV-vital signs are-â
The medic let out a low growl, silencing his so-called assistant. He knew what the wretched Seekerâs vital signs were. It had grown stronger within the bowels of the ship, the taint within his systems reacting to dark energon diffused within the ship. Heâd been unable to cope, collapsing under the strain of his own spark redirecting much of his energy to fight against the corruption. It was a losing battle, a slow march to death if he remained confined on the Harbinger.
And naturally his Prime wanted the winged pest alive, and safely caged within the ship.
Heâd already managed to stabilize his spark somewhat, returning a sufficient if slightly crooked balance to his energy levels. It would hold for now, but something else would need to be done for the long term. A full system flush of fresh energon would set back the infection well enough, but it would only slowly succumb once more because the corruption had already taken residence in the Seekerâs spark.
âContinue monitoring his vitals,â he barked. The Decepticon engineerâs little jump and stuttered âyes, sirâ would normally amused the old medic, but heâd spent too long silently fuming over the flier. He would make his Prime see reason. The Seeker would make just as fine a pet as a Terrorcon.
Turning sharply, Ratchet stalked out of the Medbay, leaving Wheeljack to edge closer to the inert Starscream. He knew it wasnât his Starscream, but it was still difficult to see the Seeker laid out on the berth. He had not spoken to his friend in quite some time, and he was worried about what might have happened to him. For now, however, he could at least try to help the Seeker before him.
âW-weâll get you set straight, Star. I promise.â Tentatively he patted the Seekerâs servo.
Consciousness returned slowly, though painfully, and the Seekerâs optics onlined with sparse flickers. Immediately, he attempted to rise, a snarl on his faceplate, before he sat back with a dull groan. Primus, everything hurt, from his pedes to the tips of his wings. What the frag happened, he wonderedâ
Wait. Was that⌠Wheeljack? Touching him? And calling him âStarâ??
Crimson narrowed to slits, and what little movement of his wings allowed by his position was directed downwards, his entire posture that of a frightened viper, using his frame to look as menacing as possible⌠despite how he was clearly bound to the berth. Scrap.
His optics darted around briefly, in search of something, anything to aid him, then focused back on the mech present before him.
"What are you doing? Stop touching me, you littleâ ugh. Well? What are you waiting for? Set me loose, frag it!"
Howâd Wheeljack get out to begin with? Where even was he? Whatever. Heâd think about it more in depth later.
Oh dear.
The tell tale spikes in his vitals barely had time to register across the monitoring systems before Wheeljack realized the Seeker was suddenly waking. Normally he was expected to sedate the patient immediately if Ratchet was not present, but⌠He did not move to do so, part of him curious, part of him wondering. The crimson optics were jarring, as was his posture, like he was the en- Well.
Technically he was, and technically he wasnât.
Jumping at the sudden demand, he drew his servo back as if Starscream had struck out at him. âS-sorry!â The apology was automatic though no less sincere. His second demand was met with hesitation. He couldnât let him loose, Ratchet would- He didnât even know what the medic would do. he wasnât sure he wanted to. âI-I really donât think that is wise. Youâre s-still recovering andâŚâ
And the medic could return at any moment.
Starscream: Starscream squinted at the smaller mech. Something was wrong here, though he didnât care to find out what. âSo,â he hissed. âThatâs never stopped you before. Let me up, right now!â
He yanked at his bonds, attention momentarily distracted, before he turned back to Wheeljack. Optics scrutinized the mech further.
"Oh. Youâre one of those. Does that mean youâre going to try to kill me? What with your backward nonsense. Stupid fragging Autobots.â
He lied back on the berth, vented heavily in exasperation. Great. Just great. He was stuck here forever.
Wheeljack frowned, winglets dropping down a notch at the suggestion he would ever willing kill any bot. âN-no, I donât want to kill you. A-and Iâm not. Not an Autobot, I mean.â He tapped his chest over his sigil. Why he had been allowed to keep it, unmarred had always puzzled him, but he wore it with a quiet pride.
He hoped it would help calm the Seeker down. They were from separate universes but they followed the same cause. Maybe⌠maybe he would know what happened to his counterpart. Heâd been worrying a lot lately. âStar told me⌠he was able to reach your forces. I-Is⌠is he okay? Do you know?â
Unimpressed, the Seekerâs red-tipped helm turned back to the engineer, narrowed gaze again present. So⌠he was a Decepticon, then? And that meant he was one of the âfriendlyâ ones, didnât it? And this was their version of Wheeljack. A stuttering, frightened little thing.
He could almost hear the jokes directed at the Wheeljack he knew, and couldnât help but grin at the thought.
Starscream scoffed at the mention of his blue counterpart. âYes, yes, heâs fine. Personal opinion aside. If youâre one of the Decepticons, shouldnât you⌠let me out. Now. Fellow Decepticon. Donât make me connect the dots for you.â
Wheeljack was aware of what he wanted. Heâd spent so long beneath the heel of the Autobots, that even thinking of defying them made him anxious. It wasnât like such thoughts could be plucked from his processor and used against him but Prime always seemed to know everything.
If he didâŚ
"I-If⌠if I d-do, youâll take me with you, r-right? F-fellow Decepticon."
If he did heâd finally have escaped his prison. It could mean his eventual death if these bots could not defeat the Prime, but something inside him stirred. He was tired of never being able to do anything. Inaction killed as surely as action could.
He just hoped he wasnât making a mistake.
Starscream snickered on the inside. What a little fool this one was. He would definitely have to tease the Wheeljack of his dimension⌠if he ever got off this blasted ship.
Then again, with this mech having lived on this ship for a while, surely he knew his way around. Wheeljack may very well be his flight path off this ship.
"Of course Iâll take you with me! Why wouldnât I? Err⌠What would my counterpart do? Trust me."
Yes. Heâd take little Wheeljack with him. And then heâd ditch the mech. No remorse. Excellent plan, if he said so himself.
Still he hesitated, optics flicking from the otherâs gaze to his bonds. This wasnât his Star but still he felt compelled to offer him some small bit of trust. Perhaps he was just being too hopeful. Either way, his decision had been made. Winglets set upright firmly, he moved quickly to undo the straps holding the Seeker down. Despite his general nervousness, it was worth noting his servos were steady as the bolts were taken off.
"Take it e-easy when you stand, okay? Your s-systems are probably still adjusting." With that advice, he offered him a servo to help him sit up. If they were going to get off the ship successfully, they would need to move quickly. He really hoped Starscream didnât have a relapse by pushing himself.
As soon as he was free, Starscream clambered off the berth, ignoring Wheeljackâs warning. Immediately, he stretched his sore joints; staying in the same position for so long left him feeling more stooped than usual, and his wings had been crammed between the wall and his backstrut the entire time. And at last, he was free!
Turning back to the white mech, he said, âYes, yes, woe unto me. Now, letâs get the frag out of here.â
Wheeljack drew back his servo and then stepped back as Starscream got to his pedes. The Seeker seemed unconcerned with his warning, so hopefully that meant his systems had successfully compensated. He didnât seem unsteady or off balance.
"R-right. I think the best way to get off the s-ship would be off one of the f-flight decks. The ship isnât currently cloaked right now soâŚ" As a prisoner, Wheeljack was never told these things, but heâd lived on the ship long enough to pick up certain clues. There was always an almost indiscernible thrum whenever they were within the Shadow Zone. The lack of it was the deciding factor on how they were going to escape.
Inhaling and exventing, the engineer steeled himself. He was actually doing this. âThis way.â Leading him out of the Medbay, he glanced both ways and started down the corridor quickly. âI-If anyone sees us⌠the -w-whole ship will be put on alert.â
Starscream watched with beady gaze as the other made his decision, a pleased expression on his face as he followed after. Sneaking around a ship? He could do that.
Well. If anyone saw them, he could kill them. That was one solution to the problem.
"Lead the way, then. Quickly."
Wheeljackâs steps were rapid as he led the Seeker through the maze that was the Harbinger. It was deliberately designed in such a way that anyone not familiar with the layout would likely wander in aimless circles. There were a few times he was forced to take an alternate route to avoid detection. The closer to their freedom they got, however, the more optimistic the engineer became.
They could do this. Heâd actually get off the ship once and for all!
"There m-might be someone posted to the flight deck, soâŚ" How they had managed to make it this far without a single incident defied all his expectations but he was not going to question their luck. Ratchet could return to the Medbay at any moment and set off a ship wide alarm. Hesitating only a klik, Wheeljack hit the controls to open the bay doors.
After a while, Starscream began to wonder if Wheeljack actually knew where he was going. All the passageways looked exactly the same, and still they hadnât run into anyone. Starscreamâs lip component parted to complain just that, when the engineer paused in front of him, looking more twitchy than usual. Or, well. Starscream didnât know his usual. This could just be how he was. Twitch, twitch.
The Seekerâs optics widened when he recognized the outline of a mech in the distance, and he yanked the stupid Autobot/weird Decepticon/whatever the frag he was back with him, hissing. âPay attention, you idiot. I canât be the only one with a working processor.â
Wheeljack barely had time to realize someone was nearing them when the Seeker dragged him backward. No amount of willpower could stop the yelp that escaped his vocalizer. Flatten himself against the wall, both servos were slapped to his face, optics wide. Between the doors slowly rolling open and the noise, he was sure they would be caught at this point.
Blue optics sliding over to meet red, he tensed as he heard the hurried pedesteps of someone coming to investigate. They were so close⌠he wasnât going to just surrender, not now. Venting quiety, he readied himself. They could rush past the mech, knock him out, something.
Great. Just great. Annoyance coiled in Starscreamâs lines, and as the smaller mech appeared to ready himself â though what for; he didnât look like he could harm a glitchmouse â the Seeker couldnât help but roll his optics.
"You. Stay put."
Starscream straightened then, not daring to risk a quick peek â the sound of pedesteps were close, so there was absolutely no reason to blow whatever cover they had.
The mech passed through the doorway, glancing around, weapon at the ready. It didnât seem especially bright; it had yet to look their way, butâ
Oh, scrap.
It turned suddenly, staring at them, before its weapons systems activated. The Seeker didnât hesitate, shoving it against the wall with all his weight, bladed claws sinking as far as they count into the metal of the mechaâs chest â the odd pulses of his Spark seemed to align with the beat of this oneâs though he ignored it, snarling savagely into the thingâs audios. It grew slack soon after, spark fading, and Starscream stepped back, watching it fall to the ground with disgust.
He turned back to the cowering little engineer.
"Move!" They didnât have time for this scrap.
Wheeljack opened his mouth to protest, but thought better of it last moment. Heâd help whether the Seeker thought he needed it or not. It would be- His thoughts came to an abrupt stop when one of Primeâs soldierâs walked past them through the doorway. They could sneak by if they were quiet. He edged closer to the door, hoping Starscream would follow his lead.
No luck.
It turned toward them and before the engineer could decide what to do, the Seeker had rushed forward and slammed it into the wall. Wheeljack looked away, optics sweeping the flight deck instead. There didnât seem to be anyone else present.
He jerked when the Seeker barked at him, taking an instinctive few steps forward. âR-right.â Walking forward a bit more purposefully, he slowly came to a stop when the horizon met his optics.
The landscape⌠was so green. Not burning⌠not destroyed. They couldnât let this Earth fall like all the others. They just couldnât.Â
Starscream swept past the white mech, ignoring him completely. His optics were sweeping the flight deck for more guards, but it seemed the only one nearby as the one heâd disposed off.
The seeker glanced at Wheeljackâs back then, a twisted grin curling across his faceplates, before he took a few running steps and jumped off the edge of the Harbinger.
"So long, little fool!"
The quick burst of his transformation sequence was heard next to the high cackling of his laughter.
 âW-what!?â
Wheeljack spun around, just catching a last fleeting glimpse of the Seeker as he dove off the flight deck. For a few precious kliks, he could believe what he was seeing. Starscream was trying to leave him. What-why-NO!
The engineer bolted forward. He could not stay here, not this close to freedom! Ratchet would- Prime would- He didnât want to think of what would happen if he stayed. Fear of staying overrode all other.
Reaching the edge, Wheeljack took a leap of faith.
⌠And landed directly on top of the splayed wings of Starscreamâs alt-mode. The Seeker screeched, wobbling up and down from their combined weight.
"Get off me, get off me, get off me!"
He spun down in a straight dive, attempting to drive the smaller mech /off him/.
"GET OFF MEEEEEEE!"
The world spun and Wheeljack yelled, servos scrambling for purchase. Just when he thought he might be thrown off, he was able to clamp down on something.
"Donâtdropme!" he screeched, spark pulsing wildly. "Dontdropmedonâtdropme!"
The Seeker had tried leaving him and now he was trying to kill him! If he fell from this height⌠there would be no walking away from it. âPleasepleaseplease!â
The imbecile was latched onto the space between Starscreamâs wings and his frame, and frag it hurt! In spite, he performed a loop in the air, hoping that might dislodge Wheeljack from his back.
"I wouldnât drop you if you would justâ letâ GO!"
He put on an extra boost of speed at that.
Wheeljackâs grip just tightened, face smooshed against Starscreamâs back as they looped through the air. âNotlettinggo!â he yelled. âWhat happened to âfellow Decepticonâ, huh!? Yourfaultyoutriedleavingmeeeee!!!â
If the engineer managed to live through this, he might never let his pedes leave the ground again.
"YOUâRE HURTING ME!"
Starscream would have leveled off if he could, but that was becoming increasingly impossible as Wheeljackâs grip tightened; instead, he found himself moving into several rapid aileron rolls in an another attempt to knock the white mech off.
"YOU LIVE ON THE FRAGGING ENEMYâS WARSHIP, FOR FRAGâS SAKE! LET ME GOOOO!"
"NOT BY MY CHOICE!" Wheeljack yelled back. If letting go would not mean his certain death, he would have the moment he realized he was hurting the Seeker. How in the world could he loosen his grip without being thrown off?
And what assurances did he have this Starscream wouldnât send him plummeting to his death? Given his behavior up to this point⌠he was not letting go. He tried wiggling his grip down further, yelping when another roll threw one servo off.
Scrambling, he barely managed to grab another part of the Seeker. âSTOP IT! YOUâRE GONNA KILL US BOTH!â
Oh, no, Starscream didnât like that at all. In fact, that deserved another nosedive, and the Seeker proceeded to do just that, only pulling up when they were nearing the ground, then activated his transformation sequence right before they would meet it. His pedes slammed into the ground, heedless of Wheeljack â hopefully he was tossed off in the maneuver.
Glaring around, the seeker yelled, âI hate you!â then proceeded to stomp away.
There was no way the engineer could keep his grip during that stunt. One moment he was spinning in the air, and the next he slammed into the ground and rolled to a rough stop. He did not immediately move from his resting place, systems in a chaotic mess as he tried to make sense of what had just happened.
He wasnât dead.
The aches and sharp jabbing pain in various parts of his body made that clear. with a groan he managed to roll onto his stomach and up on his servos and knees. Glancing up at the yell, he was tempted to reply in kind, anger he didnât know he was still capable of boiling up before suddenly sputtering out.
They had made it. Somehow. Stumbling to his pedes, he stubbornly trailed after the Seeker. There was n where else for him to go, and wandering the planet would nt help anyone. âYou- You are not leaving me behind!â
"Oh, good, youâre still alive," Starscream muttered sarcastically, glaring at the smaller mech. "I wouldnât possibly leave you behind, oh no. What a tragedy that would be."
He turned away from Wheeljack then, activating his comm systems for the first time since his imprisonment. âSoundwave, open a ground bridge at my coordinates. I have one of those odd Decepticons, so if you would be a dear and bring me a fewâŚâ He glanced back at the white mech then, who was no doubt listening. ââŚÂ things, I might be able to present my find.â
"Starscream, out."
Wheeljack decided then and there he did not like the crimson opticked Seeker. Winglets drooped and lifeless, he could only vent out slowly. The Starscream he knew would have never done such a thing.
Frowning sadly at the Seeker, he shook his helm. He doubted the mech was even going to mention his help, and he doubted even less any of his comrades would believe him either. Not if they all acted like this Starscream did.
At least heâd be with Star again. That was at least one bot he could trust implicitly. Staring at the Seeker before him, he wondered if the mech thought him so stupid he didnât know what things were being requested.
"T-thank you." His voice was quiet, but there was an odd little lilt to it.
As the ground-bridge opened before them, Starscream couldnât help but laugh. âOh, you can thank me later. After youâve received a full Decepticon welcome, of course.â
 Wheeljack was sure it couldnât be worse than an Autobot welcome.
He paused to glance around the base, wings twitching. if they caught him communicating with Wheeljack, the consequences might very well be severe, though he felt a sense of doubt at that. What he had seen thus far was not a suggestion of cruelty should he do something wrong, and he wasnât exactly doing that to begin with.
Still, better safe than sorry.
| -- I have the feeling they would not believe me if I told them everything. Too little has happened for them to believe anything I say. |
| Have you- I mean, have you tried at all? Even if they don't believe you... if something happens at least they'd have the knowledge already... |
Wheeljack hadn't even paused to think whether the bots in this universe would believe anything told to them. Still, even if they refused to use that knowledge at first, once they saw just how ruthless the Prime's forces were... they'd have to believe Star then!
| I'm sorry... you probably know what's best for the situation over there. I just... I just really want this all to be over somehow. I don't know how many more worlds I can see burn, Star. I wish you'd told me you were leaving. Maybe between the two of us they would believe the truth. |
Wheeljack let out a quiet vent, optics drifting toward the doors. He knew if he had been able to go with Starscream, he would not enjoy the same protection should they be recaptured. Prime's fancy of the Seeker meant he'd likely never be offlined, not unless he grew bored of him. The engineer probably wouldn't see the light of another day, but at that point...
He wasn't sure how much longer he could deal with everything. Maybe it was Starscream's absence that made everything so much harder. He felt tired and worn out, and knowing the Prime's forces were gearing up...
His smile widened upon picking up just how frightened Wheeljack had grown; that was a fantastic beginning to his visit. As enjoyable as it was, Jazz nevertheless sought to ease the tension, if only a tiny bit, so he now smiled a bit more amiably â even if his definition of amiable was ânot as scary the usual smileâ. With light and slow steps he approached the engineer, his optics fixed upon him.Â
âI think you can, yes. Iâd really appreciate it if you could tell me where Ratchet keeps the Cryo Inducer; Prime has ordered me to deliver it to our Earth friends.âÂ
It was then that he tilted his helm and was quiet for a short while, as if scrutinizing Wheeljack, then leaned against the nearest wall, still observing the other mech. âI was also wondering how you were doing, friend; I hope you can humor me with a⌠letâs call it a sit-rep. I havenât visited in a while and as your superior officer, I take interest in your well-being.âÂ
It didn't matter what sort of smile the assassin gave him, the results were almost always the same. Wheeljack had learned the hard way not to trust any of the mechs on the Harbinger, and Jazz was at the forefront right after his twisted master. Any smile from the mech meant danger, plain and simple. Even if he threw something resembling a genuine smile, the engineer's tension would wind tighter than a spring.
The moment he mentioned Ratchet's Cryo Inducer, the straightened even more, optics widening just the slightest bit larger. The medic would not appreciate him handing over one of his machines, especially one were he stored all his samples and specimens. Even after being told Prime had ordered it, the medic would rage at him.
It was Jazz's quietness that distracted him from his sudden worries. If any sort of friendliness was dangerous from the mech, his silence promised even more. Optics focused intently on the assassin, he did not immediately answer him.
An interest in his well-being? Wheeljack was more than aware to what that translated to, but there was little to do but answer him. Refusing would only invite greater scrutiny, and lying... was out of the question. The mech could simply check the feeds or order someone else to. He would if it meant messing with the engineer.
"T-things have been b-busy, sir. P-Prime ordered all the s-soldiers- to have them brought out of s-stasis. R-Ratchet has been having m-me focus on that, a-and h-helping him in the l-labs..."
Visits to Ratchetâs lab were always the most entertaining thing for him, never mind if Jazz could only stand the medic and his witty banter for little over ten cycles; the bickering was all well and good as long as it was interesting and made for fun chit-chat, but anything else and the assassin was bound to lose his patience unusually quick. Maybe that was one of the reasons why Jazz steered clear of the lab.Â
There was also another one that usually drew him in, and that was Wheeljack.Â
Though Jazz never liked easy targets, the meek engineer seemed to be the exception. Not that he minded, considering that creeping him out was a very welcome source of amusement. As he made his way inside the lab â with a polite knock, of course â he looked about in search of Ratchet, who hopefully wouldnât be there.Â
âHelloooo? Is anybody about or do I have this place all for myself?â It was then that he spotted the engineer, and he smiled. âApparently not.â
The cycle found Wheeljack alone in the Labs. Ratchet had ordered him to remain there until he returned but that had been over a joor ago. The engineer was not sure what the medic was doing, or why it required his presence elsewhere. He might have been able to enjoy the time alone, but the threat of his ever imminent return had him fidgety and nervous. His surroundings did not help either. The small section of the Labs that he tentatively called his own had become something of a safe zone for him. It was probably the warmest, most inviting space on the ship.
Ratchet's Labs...? Not so much.
He found himself drifting from one part of the room to the next, trying to at least appear busy for whenever the mech came sweeping back in. Ratchet hated idleness, which never ceased to bother him because half the time Wheeljack was expected to stand and wait.
The engineer sighed quietly, carefully setting down a tool he had just sanitized for the fourth time. He almost jumped straight out of his plating when the assassin's voice cut through the relative silence. Freezing where he stood, he stammered, "R-Ratchet's out, s-sir. Can I h-help you?"
He frowns as he listens to the rest of the alternateâs message. Ratchet took a moment to wrap his processor around what the other âmedicââs message could mean. Parallels? What parallels were there with him?
A pit formed in the bottom of Ratchetâs spark, anxiety coiling around and settling inside for a nap. This was starting to unnerve him, and he didnât know what to do about it.
{{ You are free to think what you will, of course. Whether you believe me or not, that in and of itself is telling enough. }}
Hatchet was quite patient when he started a project, and this one was already beginning to promise results. The longer he kept his counterpart on the comm, the more he could dig in and feel out the other's mental stability; how he reacted under duress, how he dealt with uncertainty, fear, despair...
{{ As a small example, we both work to better other's lives. It is a need born of a tragedy of the past. }}
The first step was ferreting out what the other's perceived opinion of him was. He already believed him to be a liar. Would he believe that statement, or refute it? Could he twist his perceptions to change that opinion? Just how malleable was his counterpart's processor?
Oh, this would be such an entertaining conversation.
Starscream worried for his friend, more than Wheeljack would ever know. Not only was Hatchet an absolutely terrifying mech, but Wheeljack had to live near himâŚ. and now he was alone, without Starscream there to comfort him.
And here Wheeljack was, worried about him. Starscreamâs wings fluttered slowly; at least in this way, Wheeljack was not focusing on the reality of his own situation. And yet, he also knew with a certainty that he was imposing more strain on Wheeljack, a strain that was entirely unnecessary. He just wished that Wheeljack could be safeâŚ
| I am completely safe, I promise, | he typed, hoping to alleviate the white mechâs fears. | I am finding mecha to help  us; you'll see. |
He made a point of ignoring the cuff affixed to his wrist; best not to let Wheeljack know about that.
The answer both relieved and surprised him. Star was... getting help? His winglets rose and fell only to repeat the process a few more times as he tried to process that. The seeker always seemed resigned to their fate, never seeking to slip away from Prime's cage. Why the sudden change now? Wheeljack was both happy and worried in equal amounts. He'd always worried what would happen if he ever found a way to escape. He would never leave without Starscream, but that always poised one problem: how to convince him to come?
And now Star had flown his coup all on his own volition.
A hesitant smile touched his expression before he quickly wiped it away, ever mindful that someone could be watching him. Maybe... maybe it would be different this time. Maybe there was hope to be found in this universe. If Starscream had warned them, had explained everything... maybe the bots here could successfully stand up to Prime and his cruel army.
| Stay safe then, okay? Do you really think they'll be able to help? And have you told them everything, Star? The more they know, the better prepared they can be, right? |Â
The way Wheeljack was stammering was like music to his audios and he chuckled, the sound as low-pitched as he could make it. {{ Damn straight they don't; good to see you're aware of such a fact. And of course, with you around and working as efficiently as you have until now... }} He grinned, the gesture palpable in his next words. {{ All the better, wouldn't you say? }}
The words were calculated and meant to stab into his spark, and they did just that. Wheeljack made most of their weapons, and every universe they came to and razed, was another burden of guilt for him to bare. He wasnât the one personally pulling the trigger, but he continued to supply them with more and more armaments.Â
If he were braverâŚ
âŚbut no. He was a coward, too afraid of dying to deny the Autobots what they were demanding of him. How could he possibly ever make up for the lives lost because of his inventions and weapons? Even what little he was doing now would never wash away all the blood and energon.
{{ âŚyes, sir. }} He was painfully aware of what would happen if he didnât meet their demands.
{{ So, Tiny. I suppose you're with Hatchet watching what just happened? What do you think about it, eh? Any thoughts you might want to share with me? }}
Wheeljack stiffened when the familiar voice of his tormentor slid across his comms with sanguine fluidity. Not now. Why did it have to be after all that destruction? He knew why, of course. The assassinâs reasons were all too transparent and there was little he could do but respond.
{{ T-t-hey never st-stood a ch-chance, s-sir. }}
Again, he gave the only response he could and his spark twisted and pulled deep within. He was aware the other knew that wasnât what he wanted to say. It was all apart of the sabotuerâs cruel game.
{{ T-they never⌠they never stand a chance⌠}}
The last part was whispered and full of suffocating despair.
He frowns at his consoleâs screen, shaking his helm. Ratchet would not deny his own curiosity, but his distance is justified. The medic was not going to let his walls come down for a copy of himself that is born from maliciousness.
{{ I do not trust you. I assume youâre well aware of that fact, correct? }}
Hatchet's smile only widened, and he tilted his helm further into his palm. Oh, this one had some sass to him, and the ball bearings to continue the conversation. Some had merely disconnected, and still others had never answered.
This one would be quite interesting to pick apart~
{{ I would be insulted if you were naive enough to trust me. I have no interest in deceiving you, dear counterpart. To be frank, while you and I are very different... what drives us is rather similar. I think you will be quite surprised by the parallels. }}
Ratchet stood watching the vid screen, the native Autobot's base burning and destroyed. Perhaps now they would know a fraction of the loss he and the others had felt time and time again.
Just a small taste of the beginning.
"...yes, sir."
Wheeljack was small beside the smiling medic, winglets hanging lifelessly. His response was mechanical and on cue. It was what the medic wanted to hear, and though he did not feel an ounce of the satisfaction the other did, a indescribable guilt settled over him.
Could the cycle ever be broken? His pleas had gone unanswered, as they always seemed to.
"Tsk, tsk, such a terrible liar."Â The medic reached over and patted his pet on the helm, ignoring the cringe and averted optics. "Come, Glitch. There is much to be done~"
{{ So I am not the only one whoâs universe youâve intruded on. Good to know. }}
Ratchet takes a seat at his own console, sitting with his frame straight. He maintained proper posture whenever he could, as it had become habit to the medic.
{{ Any particular reason why youâve decided to contact me? I am not in the best⌠mood at the moment. I would prefer if we could make this short. }}
Hatchet chuckled to himself, not the slightest bit alarmed or angry that his counterpart had picked up on that bit of information. It was a calculated comment, meant to bring forth a reaction. He could hardly call this an experiment if he couldn't get some sort of result, after all.
{{ I am rather surprised by that, Ratchet. You and yours know absolutely nothing about us and yet you would wish to keep the conversation short. Rather curious... }} Saying his own designation had long ago lost any particularity. He had started answering to Hatchet quite a while ago, and he had grown to perfer the name over his spark-born one.
{{ Ah, but I'm being rude, aren't I? Perhaps I might be willing to lend an audio. If something ails you, who better to serve as a sounding board than yourself? }}
{{ You'll have to forgive me for being so abrupt, but I have been meaning to pick your processor for some time now, counterpart of mine. }} The mech's voice was casual and oil coated with a fine silky overtone that might have been meant to come off friendly. {{ Shall I start by saying you are rather fine specimen? }}
He recovers from the other message after some time. Ratchet grunts as another message pops up on his screens, but it is clearly marked this time, and Ratchet can not resist a talk with his counterpart. Damn his curiosity.
Surprise floods through him at the tone of the message, which holds no detectable malice. He pauses for a moment and debates on replying. âŚCould it do that much damage?
{{ Rather fine specimen? Weâre almost one and the same. I do not think there is anything particularly special about myself. }}
Sitting at his console in his office, the medic leans forward to prop his chin solidly into the palm of a servo, an amused smirk sliding over his features at the response he received from his counterpart. To say he was anything like the red and white mech was amusing in and of itself.
They were night and day if any of the information they had gathered was even remotely correct. He was inclined to believe it was, given their expansive abilities in collecting information in general.
{{ Ah, but that isn't the case, now is it? I find it rather curious that two sparks that started so similarly could diverge so widely. I've noticed this in many of the universes we've traveled to. Each time it fascinates me how differently my counterparts react to certain circumstances. }}
[Wheeljack] | I have no idea if this will get off the ship or not, but I hope you're safe where ever you are... Miss you, Star. |
Starscreamâs wings jerked up and fluttered upon receiving the message; Wheeljack was still alive, and okay! Oh, he felt a weight lift from his sparkâŚ
| Wheeljack! Oh, I hope speaking with me won't get you in trouble. I miss you, too! Are you safe? Is everything okay? Have they-- |
He stopped typing, realizing he was bordering into unsafe territory. Should Wheeljack reveal such information as he desired on such an open line, there might be dire consequences. And he was not willing to risk that upon his friend.
He deleted the last two words typed and sent the message, waiting eagerly for a response.
Wheeljack had gotten jittery waiting on a response, part of him worried the message had been intercepted. He'd been confined to his quarters that day and sneaking out had been a dangerous move on his part. His room was located off of Ratchet's and there was no chance he could send a message with the medic so close. He couldn't stay put.
Worry and concern had driven him to take the risk, and now he was sequestered in the Labs. It was not much better, but it was hopefully improvement enough.
| I'm okay, Star. Things are... okay. I've just been really worried about you. Â You left and... and you didn't say anything. You're safe, right? |
Dear Wheeljack--I hope you're all right and didn't get caught sending outbound messages. Drop me a line and let me know you're alive, if you get a chance, okay?
Everything had been so busy and hectic lately, it was all he could do to stay out of the way and stay off the radar. Wheeljack had wanted to let her know he was okay much sooner but the few moments he was stealing at that point might be the only time he got for the foreseeable future.
| Dear Bansheesmum,
I'm really sorry it's taken me such a long time to get back to you. Activity here has geared up and its become far too dangerous to send messages off the ship very often. I'm doing okay, though, and I'm safe enough. Stay safe yourself, okay? Things are... just be safe. |
Dear Wheeljack:
To answer your questions in reverse order: You could say my species knows about the Cybertronians native to this universe. There are some of them on Earth, and theyâve been working with some of our native governmentsâwhich are legion and spend a lot of time and wealth rattling sabers at each other. Those governments do agree on one thing, thoughâthat we the civilian population shouldnât know anything about giant aliens who can disguise themselves as innocent, non-sentient machines. I found out about you through whatâs often called the âconspiracy networkâ. Some of those who talk about conspiracies to take over the world or things like Sasquatch and other boogeymen are truly nuts, but that just gives those of us gathering information about you and those like you some good cover. Sometimes itâs better to be dismissed as a wild-eyed nutcase than taken seriously. Iâve been in touch with some of the Cybertronians here on Earth, and while theyâre a little leery of meeting human fans in person, Iâm sure theyâd want to help you. I can forward messages to them if you like. They might think Iâm nuts, but from what Iâve heard Optimus Prime would insist on double-checkingâheâs not the kind of person who would just leave an innocent to suffer.
Believe it or not, thereâs a native Autobot here who uses the name âWheeljackâ. To give you an idea of what heâs like, he brews high-grade energon, teases everyone he knows pretty much relentlessly, and carries two swords and a grenade everywhere he goes. Rough around the edges, but a good guy. Heâs filled in some gaps for me, when I asked.
As for languagesâoh yes, weâve got a few thousand ânaturally-developedâ languages, some artificial ones created by people with noble intentions, and lots of âprofessional dialectsâ. I myself studied linguistics during my formal education, and I maintain a hobby-level interest in it.
Can you transform and drive or fly like the other Cybertronians here? I know about âtransformation cogsâ, and that if itâs damaged, the bot is stuck in whatever form heâs in when the damage happened. Which brings to mind another nosy questionâis it possible to get âstuck betweenâ two modes? That seems like it would be awfully uncomfortable. Iâm curious, though.
| Dear bansheesmum:
I feel terribly awkward for not realizing this sooner, but is there a name I may refer to you as? Is Banshee an acceptable designation, or do you prefer the full moniker bansheesmum?
It would seem this Earth and the one I knew are quite similar then. The governments of that world were similarly minded in keeping the general populace ignorant, but I feel this turned out to their detriment in the end. I believe if you are able, spreading the word, as it were, might prove very helpful to your Earth.
I do thank you for your offer to contact the Prime of this world as well, but I am hesitant to reach out to him. I would feel much more comfortable speaking with Lord Megatron, but my position here is perilous. If even this contact were to be discovered... well, I am safe enough as I am for the time being. Perhaps if an opportunity presents itself, I may be able to slip away as Star has done. |
Wheeljack paused here, digit tapping lightly on the screen of the datapad he was drafting the reply on. Even if he could slip away, he doubted he would live for very long if he were ever recaptured. His place among the Autobots had only been granted because Starscream had fought for it. He had no illusions what his fate would have been if the Seeker had not. His spark would have been snuffed out just as the other Decepticon scientists. Whatever Prime's fascination with the flyer, it kept Star safe. Wheeljack did not have this luxury, and he was painfully aware of that fact.
Reading back over the correspondence, his interest was piqued over this other version of himself. He sounded similar to other counterparts he'd heard of through out the multiverse, but it always interested him that he alone seemed to be the exception to the norm. This exception seemed to extend to their entire universe, as every other universe they had visited was quite different from theirs yet strikingly similar to each other. Autobots were 'good' and Decepticons were 'bad.' It simultaneously unnerved as well as fascinated him.
| This other Wheeljack, is he a Wrecker then? All of my counterparts to date have been Wreckers. I've never been all that great with weapons - well, other than building them, anyway - but I used to brew high grade myself. It was a fun hobby and the rest of the Decepticons always appreciated it when I brought in new batches. It's... well, it's been a long time since I could indulge in any hobbies. |
He frowned and shook his helm, banishing the more melancholy thoughts threatening to rise. This was fast becoming a welcomed escape from the constant fear and worry that followed him aboard the Harbinger. In the past, he'd always been able to rely on Starscream to give him a reason to smile, but now the seeker was gone and he felt truly alone for the first time in a very long time. It was not something he wanted to dwell on.
| To answer your question about transformations, though, yes it is very possible to get stuck between two modes. There are fail-safes built within the systems to help prevent this, but there are times the damage is so great even these break. It is these built in mechanisms that usually prevent a bot from transforming when there is damage to the t-cog or too much damage to the frame to allow a proper transformation. The few moments it takes to change modes can be very dangerous in the middle of a battle. Getting hit as you are transforming is almost always a recipe for disaster as several key systems could be exposed.
Generally speaking, though, it is possible to stop a transformation in the middle and hold it without any pain. It is awkward, of course, but not harmful. There are some bots that used to make it into an art form, a type of dance if you will. They were so in-tune with their systems that they could manipulate the change in such a way that it was amazing to watch. |
Wheeljack stopped again, this time to read over what he'd written and add any stray thoughts that came to him as he did so. It was nice to focus on other things, and while it was a dangerous risk, he could not quite convince himself not to answer whenever the curious human contacted him. His only regret was the delayed response time, but he was very careful only to write the replies when he was safely able to do so.
The sudden jarring ping across his communications system jolted him upright and he very nearly dropped the datapad in his servoes.
{{ GLITCH! Medbay. Immediately. }}
Winglets dropping, the engineer quickly sent the reply as it was and hurried to complied with the medic's demand.
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