ESCAPE YOU

⬵⤁

Warning: Depictions of violence and war.

⬵⤁

"Nobody can save me now,
It's do or die."

⬵⤁

Cyclonus paced back and forth within his cell, his digits digging into the palms of his servos as he waited impatiently for Starscream to show his cowardly face. Truthfully the mech had always been baffled at Megatron's apparent choice of second-in-command, as he had served many more battles than the slimeball ever had. Instead of accompanying Megatron on the Nemesis, Cyclonus had been tasked with overseeing a dead Cybertron, as well as a few of its moons, which he delegated to his own inferior officers. It pained him to see his beloved planet in such a state, but he held on to Megatron's promise, which the mech had kept. It had taken many cycles, but finally, the planet was glowing once more.

And now he was stuck on a dirt ball of a planet.

It would be denial to say he was not bitter about the arrangement, however he could not also deny his loyalty to his master. Soon enough this planet would be conquered, and Megatron would likely send him back to Cybertron - hopefully.

That was, if he could escape this prison and restore his T-cog.

The doors opened and he paused in his pacing, a team of humans filing in with a truck full of a variety of tools. One of them wore a long white coat, its hair pulled back into a tight bun while a pair of glasses rested on the bridge of its nose. He immediately identified it as female, her slender hands holding a clipboard, which she was staring at intently.

"Are you these so-called 'Special Forces?'" He sneered.

"Yes," she said simply, tucking a slender something behind her ear as she looked up from her board and at him, her eyes a pale green. There was something unnerving about her that he did not care for. "You may refer to me as Iota. Please be patient while my colleagues set up our equipment."

"Where is Starscream?" He demanded, claws curling around the bars again. There were scratches and dents were he had attempted to wrestle out of them, his efforts only acquiring meager rewards, his forearms aching from the efforts. "I demand to see him!"

"Starscream is otherwise preoccupied," Iota said plainly, striding towards the cell. She was completely relaxed, and Cyclonus realized her face was unnaturally pale. He was used to the subtleties of color on the soldier's cheeks - of course, if it was not hidden by their darker complexion. Even those with much lighter skin had a splash of color across their noses and cheeks - but Iota was completely plain. Crisp. Symmetric.

"I don't care," he hissed, raking his claws against the bars and producing sparks. "If that coward has any ounce of honor, he will show his face!"

"And what will you do if he does?" She asked.

He paused, glowering. "I will destroy him," he growled. "I will reach past these bars and strangle his scrawny neck!"

"Hmm, then I suppose we will start with the arms, then," the remark was so casual it sent chills down his spinal strut.

"Excuse me?" He snarled.

"Greenie, prepare to stun," she instructed, one of the shoulders quickly shuffling towards the truck.

"Stun? Start with my arms?!" As uneasy as he was, he did not betray any of it, instead increasing his aggression. "What is that supposed to mean?!"

"Your Cybertronian biology is much easier to work with than a human's," Iota tapped on her clipboard. "Where with humans we have to inject a paralytic in order to induce the same effects, we just need brief access to your motor switch. Turning that off ensures you are still conscious, yet able to feel everything."

The Decepticon suddenly felt rather dizzy, the implications of the procedure nearly sending him into panic-mode. "My arms?" He squeaked.

If Iota was pleased that she intimidated a thirty-foot robot, she did not show it. "We will remove them so you are no longer a threat. We may remove your legs as well, since they do not contain organs vital to your function. From there, it will be determined what else we can remove to conserve energon usage and make you more fuel-efficient, as our Autobot troops require fuel as well, and we just need enough to keep you sustained."

He was horrified. She spoke with such cool confidence, as if she knew exactly what she was talking about. Cyclonus could see it in her eyes as well - she was visualizing each step with amazing clarity. She gave off the same vibe as Shockwave: cold, calculated, and insanely logical.

"You don't need to- no," he stuttered, his own faux confidence and anger melting away like a snowball in summer. "Don't do that; you don't understand how painful it will be!"

"No, I'm well aware," she replied. "Which is why we are doing it. Agent Fowler gave us permission to use what is necessary to extract information from you. And as we do not have one of your 'cortical psychic patches,' we must use . . . other methods."

"You would take away my T-cog, my limbs, all for some scrap of information?!" He was now visibly panicked, stepping back as humans approached his bars with what appeared to be a large stun gun. "Wait, perhaps we can make a deal? I can be very generous if given enough in return -"

"And what are you willing to offer?" Iota asked, tilting her head back up to gaze at him.

Cyclonus shuddered. "I . . . well . . ." he hesitated, then just started to list things. "I can give you Decepticon frequencies, detailed battle plans, the location of every Decepticon base on this planet, the various projects of Shockwave, which Megatron plans to unleash on this continent as soon as he discovers the location of the Autobot base . . . anything."

Iota was pleased with her progress, jotting down a few notes on her clipboard. "And how can I trust this information is correct? You are a Decepticon, after all."

The former second in command looked like he was going to be sick. "I assure you, I would never lie for risk of incurring the punishment you have promised to inflict upon me."

She seemed satisfied with that answer. "Then I will take two things: the plans you mentioned with Shockwave, as well as the Decepticon frequencies. What is it you wish in return, aside from the preservation of your limbs?"

He stared at her, wondering if she was being serious. Personally, he would have considered the lack of punishment reward enough, but if she was willing to provide a little extra incentive . . .

"Some form of luxury would be nice," he growled softly. "Such as a berth. I despise recharging on the ground."

"If that is all," she said, making one last note before turning away. "You will share your findings with Colonel Lennox here," she gestured to the man who had remained beside her. "And once he has deemed what you have given him satisfactory, we will provide a sleeping berth for your comfort."

Cyclonus watched her go, realizing his spark was shuddering a million times a minute, even after she had left. His red optics fixed on the human male, who he felt was much less intimidating than the female who had merely spoken to him. She had placed him on severe edge, making him cringe at the thought that she would eventually return.

"Alright, let's get talking," Lennox said, crossing his arms. "What do you know?"

⬵⤁

Optimus waited patiently as the Autobots filed into the meeting room, which was currently just an empty storage unit that was large enough to serve as a secret Cybertronian meeting area, should the aliens need to discuss things amongst themselves. However, Agent Fowler, Miko, Rafael, and Sierra were allowed to attend, as the majority had been present for his transformation and he wished to share his thoughts with his team. He did not want to announce what happened right away, understanding the human population could easily panic if they did not understand what this meant.

"What happened?" Bumblebee asked, sounding concerned when he laid optics on Starscream's frame. He frowned, noting how the Seeker stood a little straighter and was in an almost awkward pose, his jaw dropping when he noticed the bright blue optic. "Did you have some kind of accident??"

"I will explain everything once everyone has arrived," "Starscream" said calmly, his voice reverberating in a strange way, which made the scout most uncomfortable.

Rafael shared a look with his friend, the young man perched on his shoulder. They were nearly inseparable since Bumblebee had returned, his partner helping him transmit a rather large plethora of movies to Thundercracker, though they had yet to hear back from the Seeker to determine if he had received the message.

Once everyone had arrived, "Starscream" gazed around the circle of his friends, noticing Jazz was present, one of the new additions the Prime barely recalled from when he had been pulled from the energon lake. Despite being in Starscream's frame he still felt phantom aches from his wounds, trying to suppress such feelings while focusing on the present.

A presence brushed up against his consciousness, Starscream himself pushing away the corrupted files before they could overwhelm his psyche.

"Thank you all for agreeing to this gathering," he stated, returning his focus to the group, "most of you are already aware of what transpired, however I wish to provide clarification and ensure everyone is aware of the situation. I, am Optimus Prime."

Before either Jazz, Bumblebee, or Rafael could ask if the Seeker had gone mad, Optimus launched into his explanation, the others supplementing his story and convincing the trio that what they said was true. It took some time, as Jazz was convinced this was some kind of intricate, sick prank, however with Ultra Magnus in on it, he doubted it was a true joke. The commander never found anything funny.

"Glad we were included in the committee," the espionage specialist crossed his arms, only slightly bitter about the exclusion.

"We felt it was best that we kept this plan under wraps - there was too much risk involved in this, and we could not allow any potential information to leak." Ultra Magnus explained.

"You think one of us would tell the Decepticons?" Jazz demanded, suddenly offended.

"No, not intentionally," Magnus responded. "If this information spread throughout the entire base, it merely increases the risk that somehow the Decepticons will know Optimus Prime is alive. We needed this to be as secretive as possible to catch the Decepticons off-guard in the event an attack is open to us."

"We also had limited time," Agent Fowler spoke up. "The longer we waited, the more we risked losing Prime. We had to act quickly, especially once Starscream found the neuron refractor."

"So . . . both Optimus and Starscream are in Starscream's body?" Rafael asked reluctantly.

The Seeker nodded, answering him. "Yes," Optimus looked down at his clawed servo. "I am currently the one in control of this frame, and Starscream's consciousness remains within me. I am able to hear him."

"Kinda creepy, if you think about it," Miko said, standing on Bulkhead's shoulder.

"So, now that we've got Prime back, what's next?" Wheeljack asked, crossing his arms.

"We've gotta save Jack, and Mirage," Miko said, her ponytails bobbing as she bounced ever so slightly to attention. "Buckethead hasn't sent any transmissions, not even like those he sent after he captured Ratchet."

"Buckethead?" Starscream asked, sounding rather amused.

"Starscream has shared with me what happened," Optimus said. "I know the situation is dire, however without proper information about the Decepticon base, we cannot formulate a rescue plan."

"We've got Cyclonus," Agent Fowler posited. "Maybe he can give us a map of the Decepticon facility. From there we could send in a small team to retrieve them."

Optimus thought. "That is assuming Cyclonus is willing to cooperate," he replied. "As his loyalty to the Decepticon cause runs deep."

"Cyclonus is perhaps even more of a coward than I am," Starscream drawled. "Merely a few well-thought out threats is enough to get him to confess everything he knows."

"-Iota is currently working on him, so we might be able to get something," Optimus realized he had missed the first part of Agent Fowler's sentence, too busy listening to Starscream to focus also on the conversation of the outside world.

"In the meantime, I think it would be best if we remained at our stations and vigilant," Ultra Magnus said, his words more of a command than suggestion. "We should always be at the ready should the Decepticons either launch an attack, or provide an opportunity for us to gain more ground."

Sierra glanced at Miko, seeing the girl was far from pleased with these answers. Even Rafael looked upset that they were pushing back the rescue of their friends - of Jack. She bit her lip, wondering if there was anything they could do.

For now . . . it felt like nothing.

"I agree," Optimus said, nodding towards Ultra Magnus. "We must remain vigilant to the Decepticon's doings, and with time we may construct a plan with which to drive their forces off of Earth."

The other Autobots nodded, looking at one another with some sense of relief. Optimus Prime was back, and he was once again ready to lead. Yes, it was through an unconventional method, something extraordinarily weird to think about, however they would adjust accordingly. It also did not mean Optimus was somehow changed; he was still the Prime they all knew and respected, even in times of great adversary - such as now.

With this they were dismissed, Bumblebee and Rafael returning to the main hub of activity. Checking their messages they noted Thundercracker had sent back his thanks, and attached, another favor.

It's a screenplay I've been working on. Maybe you could slip in a good word for me?

Bumblebee and Rafael looked at one another, the two exchanging a small chuckle. For a Decepticon, the Seeker did not seem half bad. They sent back confirmation they would look into it, genuine about their gesture.

It helped to have an ally on the inside, even if it was a loose alliance to begin with.

⬵⤁

Soundwave constantly checked the camera as he stalked down the hall, however he had lost precious seconds before and after the destruction of the prisoner's one and only camera. What little evidence he had was Jack running to his supplies, which had been stored in a corner of his cell. The pile of meaningless equipment had been left as a mocking reminder, however it could only serve its purpose if the prisoner was locked up.

Ratchet had become far too comfortable with allowing his human friend to roam free, believing he had been too broken to attempt any sort of rebellion. The medic was naive; he believed that because Megatron had warped him so easily, the human would be the same - but that was where the difference in humanity and Cybertronians lie. The titans had been at war for so long that hope was a commodity few could afford; but humans had immense stores of it, which is what kept them fighting for their pathetic planet for so many years.

However, the third in command would make sure Jack lost any and all hope - the organic's meager weaponry would do nothing against the superior Cybertronian armor, and he would come to see that there was no beating the Decepticons. Soundwave had already posited his plan to his master, and Megatron was willing. Any small town would do - all they needed was enough casualties to demonstrate to Jack that he could be punished for anything, since his own physical beatings were not enough. Razing any number of human cities would do the trick.

Yes, it may shatter what small balance there was which prevented humanity from unleashing their nuclear might, however Soundwave could easily use those warheads against them. He already had the codes, and could select any weaponry and their subsequent targets. Humanity would kneel, in time.

Pausing at the door to Jack's cell, he checked the known camera footage one last time. Somehow Jack had managed to destroy the recording device in such a way that the last few seconds - which took time to transmit - had been lost once the camera was gone. It irked Soundwave that he was unsure what he was getting into, however it mattered little.

Clamping down his armor, he opened the door to the cell.

Jack was there to greet him, Soundwave noting the primitive weaponry in his hands. Immediately after the gun registered there was a loud, snapping crack, followed by impossible pain searing through Soundwave's chest.

He stumbled back, reaching up to grasp at the wound. Human bullets pinged, they never -

Jack flinched as the second shot bliterated Soundwave's mask, snapping his helm back full force and sending him backwards to the ground. The young man was almost convinced it was a trick, as taking down Soundwave had been too easy. Yet after several heartbeats, he realized the Cybertronian was not about to get up any time soon.

His body froze in absolute shock, not having expected such an outcome. At the most, he expected to have to slip past the 'con as he stumbled around blindly, nearly missing electrocution from his extra appendages. He knew the armor-tipped bullets cut through Vehicon armor fairly well - consequently, he expected more of a fight out of Soundwave.

Run. You need to run!

This was a death sentence for sure, Jack sprinting around Soundwave and taking off down the hall. He assumed Ratchet was with Megatron, which would make this easier. He hoped he did not run into either of them; the former because he knew he could never hurt Ratchet. The latter . . . because somehow, Megatron never died.

Still shaken by his initial kill, Jack ducked out of sight as Vehicons filed past, realizing they were going to happen upon Soundwave's corpse any second. Taking aim, his Carbine cracked with each pull of the trigger, followed by the crash of Vehicons hitting the ground. They did not even have time to turn around, Jack already running as fast as he could down the hall.

I have to get out of here. I have to get out of here. I have to-

He skid to a stop as he came upon a T, his hands trembling as he looked down each hall. Deciding he ought to stick to one wall, he turned right, continuing to run. His legs ached, and even as adrenaline coursed through his veins, his shoulders still threatened to give out on him.

"I just need to find a place to hide," he said to himself, looking up and around the hall. Likely there were cameras everywhere, and Megatron wasn't a moron - even without Soundwave, he could look through footage.

I killed Soundwave. I am scrapped.

Trying to keep that as motivation to get out, Jack turned another corner, this time practically running head first into Vehicon legs.

"What the-"

He threw himself back, shouting as he fired at the trio. One Vehicon died instantly, the other stumbling back as he was shot in the shoulder, then finished off with another head shot. The third survived long enough to aim his gun at Jack, but the human was much faster than any one of them.

He was running well before the final Vehicon landed on the ground, cursing as the alarms finally rang. Someone had discovered his carnage.

The growls and snarls of Megatron filled the intercom, though it wasn't in English, which just made Jack even more terrified. He hoped that the tyrant wanted him shot on sight - and not captured alive.

Jack ducked behind a corner as Vehicons sprinted past, looking for him. Slipping past he kept low, not wanting to make his presence obvious and now trying to conserve his ammunition. Energy pumped through his veins, drowning out any true discernable sounds as his eardrums throbbed, his knuckles white as they gripped his weapon. His heart nearly stopped, though, when the door immediately in front of his path swung open and a silver titan stepped out.

Throwing himself to the side, Jack somehow maneuvered himself behind Megatron's foot, staying out of sight. He took several steps back and pointed his gun up, ready to pull the trigger, then hesitated. Megatron was looking out, his red optics scanning the hall before he stepped forward. He had no idea Jack was there, which was perhaps the safest thing for the human - and almost comically lucky. Additionally, Jack realized he had made the slight mistake of forgetting his surroundings, so focused on Megatron he could only watch as the doors slid shut between them, trapping him in whatever room the mech had just stepped out of.

"Scrap," he cursed, then spun around to make sure there were no other inhabitants in the room.

There was, his eyes beholding the horrific leftovers of Mirage.

"M-" he stopped himself, his stomach twisting as a wave of nausea thrust itself into his gut. He had no idea what to take in first - the bare minimum frame before him, the energon wires which hung at twisted and odd angles, some of them obviously cut and cauterized off, or the spark which pulsed in its bare chamber. Even Mirage's helm had been surgically sliced open, cracked to reveal processor circuitry, some of which was dark and no longer functioning.

"Mirage," he said his name, choking on tears and horror. "What did they do to you?"

Blue optics flickered to life, the Autobot tilting his helm to look at Jack. He opened his mouth, but all that came out was a hydraulic hiss and groan.

"Hhhhhuuuuuuuunnnnnhhhhhhh."

Jack allowed his eyes to stare at his neck, seeing that all that was left was the vital energon cables, and what appeared to be a broken voice modulator.

Finally the human threw up, projectile vomiting yellow stomach acid mixed with pale blue energon, coughing and crying as his throat burned. He looked up at Mirage, the Autobot's face expressionless, his optics appearing on - and yet dead. If Mirage could still think for himself, it was not obvious in the slightest.

Who could have done this . . .? Jack knew the answer, but he refused to think that could possibly be the case. He refused to think his friend could be capable of such atrocities.

Capable, sure, but it was Megatron who made it a reality.

"Hang on, Mirage," he said, wiping his eyes and trying to keep it together. "I'm going to get us out of here. I'll find the Autobots, I'll get help. I swear. You just need to-"

As he turned around the Autobot groaned again, barely moving and whimpering with pain. He looked at Jack with that empty face, his helm falling to the side as if he could not even keep himself upright. Another mewl made it obvious to Jack what he wanted.

"I . . . I can't," he said, gripping his gun tight. "We need you-"

"Nnnggghhhnnnn."

The groan sent chills down his spine, promising to give Jack nightmares for the rest of his life. Yet perhaps he could recover from those nightmares. Mirage, on the other hand . . .

There was a long hesitation, with only the alarms breaking the silence. Finally, Jack nodded, shouldering his M4 Carbine and taking aim.

"Mirage . . . I'm sorry," he said, finger curling around the trigger. Gritting his teeth, the young man steeled himself, taking a deep breath and spitting out the taste of stomach acid from his mouth. His eyes burned, only seconds remaining before his vision would be compromised and he could not guarantee a clean shot.

Not able to stall any longer, Jack fired, first destroying the spark. Mirage made a strangled scream, throwing his helm back with force he probably did not even know he had, Jack aiming between his optics and firing once again. The screaming - the awful screaming - stopped, Mirage slumping forward. His green spark flickered out of existence, his lights dulling, then winking off.

He took several deep breaths, resisting the urge to scream himself. He could only think about what he had witnessed, turning in alarm as the doors swung open.

"Jack?" Ratchet asked, bewildered, his purple optics taking in the scene in shock. "What have you done?"