Under the Plating - 1 of 2 (too large for one post!)

[lstarrunner]

Title: Under the Plating, First Half

Sequel to Skimming the Surface

Universe: loosely G1 cartoon after the appearance of the Constructicons on Earth.

Rated: PG - what is that, now? K+.

Pairing: not the main storyline, but Jazz/Prowl in the background.

Author's Notes: Recognizable Characters/Names belong to Hasbro/Takara. I’m just playing with them. Starrunner is not me just a namesake, one of my offspring.

-:-radio transmission-:-

-:-Cosmos to Ark, come in Ark.-:-

Blaster's voice: -:-You're comin' in loud an' proud, Cosmos!-:-

-:-Mirage and Bluestreak have encountered a problem on patrol. They require assistance bringing in a prisoner.-:-

-:-No way. Are you prankin' me? Who are you and what have you done with Cosmos?!?-:-

Cosmos could hear Blaster's grin. -:-Sorry, Blaster. I'm not joking and I don't need Ratchet to scan my processor again. They have a Decepticon in custody and asked me to relay a message asking Jazz to come out to meet them.-:-

Blaster shook his head, not that Cosmos could see him. -:-It's the middle of the day-shift recharge cycle. Officer-of-the-Day is Ironhide. I'll page him so you can give him your report.-:-

-:-That's fine, Blaster, I'll fill him in while you track down Jazz. Mirage was very specific: they need Jazz. As soon as possible.-:-

Blaster brought up a window on his LAN console that rang Ironhide's quarters. Ironhide looked so resigned when he answered, Blaster felt obliged to make it quick. "Patrol has a Decepticon prisoner. They're asking for Jazz. Cosmos will tell you more while I look for him. Do I patch you through or do you wanna come down here?"

Ironhide looked significantly more interested. "Well, don't that beat all? I'll come on down there, Blaster, the walk'll give me a chance to get the energon flowin'." He moved to switch off his end of the line, then paused. "What do they want with Jazz?"

"Cosmos'll have ta answer that. Just told me Mirage specifically said he needs Jazz."

"Might as well track 'im down then. I'm on mah way." Ironhide closed the connection.

Blaster rang Jazz's quarters. No answer and no sign of movement when he brought up the camera view of Jazz's doorway. Jazz didn't have an office, but Blaster rang his console anyway, just to make sure he wasn't lurking somewhere nearby. No answer. "We oughtta rig boosters to use our internal radios in the Ark," Blaster said to himself. "Or get some new digs like in New York." No sign of Jazz in the common room, at least, not that the camera there was picking up. Beachcomber and Seaspray were visible down there, though, watching TV. He activated the link to that room and picked up a narrator saying "...the red coral glows brightly under a black light..."

"Blaster to 'Bots. Have ya seen Jazz in there lately?"

Someone off-screen scraped a chair across the floor momentarily. Neither visible Minibot jumped at his inquiry: Seaspray did his share of comm duty and nothing could possibly startle that Beachcomber. Seaspray answered, never taking his attention from the screen. "He wass in herrre earrliearrr, Blasterrr, but that wass beforrre Bluestrreak and Mirrrage left on patrrol. Ssorrry."

"No problemo, Seaspray. I'll keep lookin'." Blaster flipped through the hallway cameras, hoping to catch a glimpse of the Porsche.

Ironhide walked in to the communications center. "Evenin', Blaster. Er, mornin', I guess." The old warrior leaned heavily on the chair next to Blaster. "Hook me up to Cosmos." Then he looked at what Blaster was doing, flipping through the security feeds throughout the Ark. "Still haven't raised him?"

Blaster flipped a switch and indicated Ironhide should sit down. -:-Cosmos? I've got Ironhide here.-:-

Ironhide gave Blaster a stern look as Cosmos started in. Ironhide firmly pressed the mute button for the radio pick-up. "Check Prowl's office."

Blaster looked at Ironhide as if he'd said something impossible like "Check Megatron's cannon."

-:-Ironhide? You might follow Jazz out to meet them, but they've been very specific: their prisoner insists he will speak with Jazz.-:- Cosmos was saying.

"Have ya gone deaf, Blaster? Check Prowl's office. Quarters, whatever. Those links go to the same console, ya know. Stop lookin' at me like I'm speakin' in tongues and do it!" Then, toggling radio mute off: -:-Cosmos, why can't they escort their prisoner to the Ark? We do have holdin' cells.-:-

-:-Mirage reports their 'Con says he won't get far under his own power until his solar arrays have had a few hours in the morning. Mirage partially believes him: says the damage is bad enough Mirage thinks he may have to be dragged to the Ark. He insists he's looking for Jazz.-:-

Blaster rang Prowl's quarters. He was about to cut the connection and ask Ironhide who was spreading rumors when Prowl answered, his expression stern. "Ironhide is on call tonight, Blaster."

"Sorry, Prowl. Patrol is asking for Jazz. Ironhide thought you might know where he is?" Blaster saw a flicker of movement behind Prowl in the camera shot.

"Heya, Blaster. What's up with 'Raj and Blue?" Jazz asked, materializing behind Prowl to lean over his shoulder and tilt the tiny camera up so that Blaster could see him. Prowl looked distinctly displeased.

Ironhide was saying to Cosmos, -:-Mirage and Bluestreak didn't cause the damage, did they? They just found 'im this way. Has Mirage considered the possibility this is a trap?-:-

Before Blaster could get a grip on himself and answer Jazz, both he and Prowl registered Ironhide's question. "I'm on my way," Jazz said. Prowl cut the connection.

"Gonna be quite a party in here in a tick," Blaster mused.

Cosmos: -:-We have entertained that possibility, Ironhide, and I have scanned the area and the vicinity of the Ark thoroughly. No sign of other Decepticons in this hemisphere. If it is a trap, it will be sprung by only the one transformer.-:-

-:-So Mirage and Bluestreak are better off with some back-up anyway.-:- Ironhide drawled slowly, crossing his arms over his chest and smiling tightly at Blaster. -:-Now, why Jazz?-:-

Cosmos: -:-Their prisoner is adamant that he has information important to 'Number Four'. That can only be Jazz.-:-

Ironhide: -:-Sounds like they didn't find him, he found them. Lookin' like slag. No 'take me to your Prime' garbage?-:-

Jazz made his entrance, followed by an unreadable Prowl.

Cosmos: -:-No fight. He landed in the area sometime after the last patrol's pass and my first scan ahead of Mirage's patrol. I mistook him for a local; he was completely powered-down in jet-mode for at least 2 hours. He remained quiescent until Bluestreak came up on him but offered no resistance, only insists on communicating with 'Number Four'. Bluestreak is standing guard while we converse and Mirage scouts the area.-:-

Jazz gestured at the large number four emblazoned on his chest. -:-Cosmos, just patch him through and I'll keep 'im talkin' while Prowl assesses the situation.-:-

Cosmos: -:-I can't do that, Jazz. He says his radio's not functioning. None of us have the capacity to really confirm that, but if he's lying, he's being very consistent. Mirage and I have hailed him randomly on every frequency we've ever known Decepticons to use and he shows no sign of having heard us.-:- Pause. -:-Mirage says it looks like he crash-landed. No landing gear deployed.-:-

Three pairs of optics turned to Prowl, expecting his analysis of the news. He gestured at Ironhide.

Ironhide sighed: the one time he actively wanted Prowl to pull rank and take the situation completely in hand, he declined. -:-Send us the coordinates and tell Mirage we're en route. Ark out.-:- "Ah'm gettin' too old fer this."

-:-Data sent. Cosmos out.-:-

Ironhide looked directly at Prowl, waiting for him to make optic contact. "What do you think?"

"I need more information. Blaster, replay for me everything Cosmos relayed. Ironhide, get Swoop - we'll leave Ratchet out of this but it sounds like this one may need medical attention just to get to the brig. Jazz, choose the best route to the location Cosmos sent."

-X-X-X-

Mirage met them well beyond sensor distance from the scene. He appeared at the side of the road with his hand raised to signal a halt. "Jazz, this is easily the strangest behavior I have ever witnessed."

Jazz stopped and transformed to speak amicably with Mirage. "Sounds like it, 'Raj, just the little bit we got from Cosmos. Tell me more!"

Prowl and Ironhide pulled up beside them but neither transformed, opting to let Jazz work his magic with the stuffy mech.

As the smiling Jazz clapped him soundly on the back, Mirage found himself unable to do anything but return the grin. "Bluestreak had raced on ahead - he was full of energy this evening! - and I heard him transform and sputter a string of obscenities worthy of a Lamborghini. I also transformed and engaged my disruptor to approach with caution. I found Bluestreak standing a few lengths away from a jet plane, gun trained on the cockpit. The airplane was speaking to him very slowly in Cybertronian. He was saying, 'I will speak with Number Four.' I remained quiet. Bluestreak demanded the jet identify himself; he said he is called Starrunner. It means nothing to either of us. I am really quite proud of Bluestreak: he interrogated the mech as well as anyone could have and gave up no information in his usual verbose speech."

"Tha's good news. What more did he get outta this Starrunner?"

"Nothing really. He answers most questions with reference to 'Number Four'. I believe him when he says he cannot transform and that his radio is broken. When Bluestreak demanded he drop his weapons, he disengaged every article attached to his fuselage, some of which are not obviously weapons. I covered Bluestreak while he retrieved the articles: the jet had landed without using landing gear. One canister contains human artifacts; when questioned he again answered with reference to you." Mirage produced said canister from subspace and offered it to Jazz. "I am reluctant to look closely myself until Wheeljack or Perceptor has scanned it thoroughly."

Jazz took the proffered canister and briefly glanced at the contents: it was a collection of storage media. He could identify compact disks, a hard-drive, at least two USB drives and a tape. Shaking it, Jazz thought he saw a Cybertronian data chit among them, but even he wouldn't touch that without having it checked. "Hnnn. Could be anythin'. 'Number Four', huh?" He turned away from Mirage and spoke to Prowl. "I'm goin' in. I'm gonna walk right in, and act like I know 'im." Obviously still thinking, he turned back to Mirage. "Has he seen you?"

"Not as far as I know. I cannot vouch for which sensors he may be using. I have not vocalized in his presence and have detected no active scans but he may be lying about his lack of radio reception or have any type of passive detector." Mirage paused as if considering his next words carefully. He looked in Prowl's direction, "I get the distinct impression that this Decepticon knew our patrol route exactly, so it stands to reason he also knows we patrol in pairs. We are too predictable."

Prowl spoke up coolly. "Perhaps. We can address that later. Jazz, we'll proceed all together, but transform out of sight of your informant. Ironhide and I will circle through the woods as quietly as we can. You and Mirage 'walk right in' - with your disruptor engaged, Mirage - and make as much noise as you can. When Ironhide and I are in flanking positions, you show yourself. At least he will not know our true number. Swoop will continue to circle well out of sensor range.

"Where 're the actual weapons he dropped?" asked Ironhide while Mirage and Jazz returned to auto-mode.

Mirage led the party toward the scene. "Bluestreak claimed the one undamaged gun. Those that are damaged or unidentifiable are well away from both mechs. I set a small light among them; you will not overlook the pile in the dark."

"It's not overlookin' 'em I'm worried about," Ironhide replied.

They drove briefly in silence. As they rounded a bend, Mirage slowed and came to a stop, transforming. The others followed suit. Mirage made optic contact with Jazz and pointed to the next bend in the road. Listening carefully, they could hear Bluestreak, "...happened to your stuff? I mean it looks like someone really pounded on you in your alt-mode and all. This strafing gun's intact but the rest look like..." Jazz grinned and started walking slowly down the road, keeping to the unkempt edge where he could snap twigs and rustle leaves as he went. Mirage disappeared. Prowl made optic contact with Ironhide. Ironhide gestured to the right, then pointed at Prowl and indicated he should go to the left.

Prowl dimmed his optics as an indication of agreement and headed out silently.

Bluestreak's chatter stopped. Jazz hoped it was because he'd heard the sloppy noise he and Mirage were making. He made the turn in the road feeling the gravel dig into his feet. Mirage was right to be proud of the lad: he had positioned himself where he could easily watch both their approach and the prisoner and had a weapon trained on each.

Jazz decided to go for full flamboyance. "Evenin' Blue! I hear ya have need o' the Jazz-man. Whatchya got for me?"

Bluestreak immediately launched into the story of the night, almost turning fully back to watch the Decepticon. Then he heard more noise from Mirage, so he remained wary of both possible threats. Jazz kept his face turned in Blue's direction but behind the visor his optics studied the jet in infrared, rifle lowered but still ready. While Bluestreak prattled on, Jazz noted the cracked canopy, the dented fuselage, battered wings, and the obvious damage to the jet's undercarriage.

The Decepticon gave no outward indication that he was alive, let alone listening to anything in his surroundings. Infrared showed that he was using very little energy, probably only the most vital systems: processors, power distribution, maybe cooling. Jazz knew intimately how thoroughly looks could be deceiving. Waiting for Mirage to present himself as the signal the others were in place, Jazz interrupted Blue, smiling all the while. "Say again, Blue? Surely you caused at least a little o' the damage I'm observin' here!"

"No! Really he was like this when I found him just sitting in the dirt there looking like a human- made airplane. On infrared though it's hard to hide the fact that you're alive an--" Jazz saw Mirage on the road and cut Bluestreak off there.

"Why don'tcha keep watchin' the East, Blue?" Turning to the Decepticon, Jazz continued to hold his rifle up casually, "let 'Raj watch the West." This arrangement meant all three were at least looking in the direction of their prisoner.

Jazz turned his full attention to the damaged mech. Ignoring Bluestreak's resumed chatter, he stepped purposely closer to the Decepticon saying, "What news d'ya have for me, m'man?"

No response. Jazz continued to step closer to him. "I am the one yer lookin' for, right, Starrunner?" Still nothing.

He tried the common radio channels and got no response.

"Hey, man!" Jazz said loudly. No response. "Are ya still with us?" And again, as harshly as he was capable: "Starrunner!"

The airplane twitched once, violently. Jazz jumped back a bit and aimed his rifle full -on. Mirage and Bluestreak exchanged a look past Jazz and their captive.

"Sir? Repeat the question, Sir," said a muffled voice in Cybertronian that could only have come from the Decepticon.

Jazz stuck with the local language the Autobots generally adopted but went for precise grammar and enunciation worthy of Prowl. "Am I the one you seek?"

The Decepticon answered by transforming. Either the sound of tearing metal or the sudden movement spooked Bluestreak into firing on him once. It was a good shot, if the mech had still been in jet-mode it would have caught him squarely in the canopy. As it was, the blast caught him in the knee after he was mostly bipedal. He fell forward and caught himself on one arm, the other side of his torso not having transformed fully. He raised his head to look up at Jazz. "Yes Sir." He turned to look in Bluestreak's direction and said, "I offer no threat to you."

Jazz went with his basic reaction to help the mech to his feet, awkwardly grasping his 'good' elbow and heaving upward. "Can you stand?" he asked.

"Yes Sir," back to formal Cybertronian as he slowly balanced himself, wearing a stiff expression as he removed his arm from Jazz's grasp.

Jazz found himself completely at a loss: straight up interrogation was not one of his skills. He was used to getting information out of unwitting sources, plied with subterfuge or high-grade and flattery. He waited a tick as the Decepticon swayed a little on his feet, then made an executive decision. -:-Swoop, are ya listenin'?-:-

-:-Aye!-:- Swoop's answer sounded more like a bird call than a word, -:-Me Swoop hear. -:-

-:-Well swoop on down and see if you can't patch this 'Con enough to get him to the Ark. I ain't standin' out here all night!-:- He grinned broadly at the Seeker. "I think it's gonna rain."

Jazz paused, giving the Decepticon an opportunity to speak.

"Do you speak the local language?" Jazz asked, really just stalling for Swoop. "My Cybertronian ain't what it used to be." He wasn't sure which annoyed him more: the now- unaccustomed language or the strict formality.

"Yes Sir, I do speak English," the mech replied.

"So. I think you startled poor Blue over there when you transformed. We thought you said you couldn't."

Swoop landed near Bluestreak, transforming smoothly as he touched down. Jazz noticed that the Decepticon actually looked relieved to see the Dinobot.

-X-X-X-

Number Four had a dazzling smile. He remarked on the weather, as if they were having a completely ordinary conversation; Starrunner was tempted to respond. He recognized a tactic the other Seekers had used to get an excuse to punish him: no question asked, he would not address a Cybertronian of rank. "Do you speak the local language? My Cybertronian ain't what it used to be."

"Yes Sir, I do speak English," Starrunner was unsure how to interpret the insistence on using the human language. It made it more difficult to convey clearly that he knew his place in the ranks, more likely that he would commit some mistake of insubordination.

Number Four's smile never wavered. "So. I think you startled poor Blue over there when you transformed. We thought you said you couldn't." The winged Dinobot landed behind Number Four. He made all the other Cybertronians present look small.

Starrunner was so relieved to see one he knew was capable of deactivating him quickly that he addressed Number Four without hearing a question. "No Sir. I said it would be painful to transform."

The Dinobot walked past Number Four and addressed Starrunner. "Ra-ak! Not transform all the way, me Swoop see. Stand still while me Swoop check out hurt." Starrunner braced himself.

-X-X-X-

Swoop was excited to have a chance to do something other than fight and practice fighting and hang on Ratchet's every word. He was significantly larger than the Seeker and set one large hand on the Decepticon's good shoulder while shining a light all over the obvious damage. He made 'tut-tut' sounds as he looked closely at the seams where his patient had transformed. "You no transform back to jet-mode today. Me Swoop stop fluid loss but not fix torn skin here."

"We just wanna get him back to the Ark, Swoop," Jazz said, worriedly scanning the sky. He really hated being caught out in thunderstorms, and this night was weird enough without lightning and rain.

Swoop fired up a small torch and started sealing the obvious torn lines on the Seeker. He was enjoying the training as field medic but so far none of the other Autobots really accepted his help - this was his first opportunity to apply some of his recently acquired skills. The injuries from transforming out of a damaged alt-mode were mostly cosmetic but the metal was twisted and torn such that the fuselage would not go back together smoothly without work. The minor leaks this had caused were quickly sealed off. Swoop tut-tutted happily at his patient, "This part easy fix, Ratchet let me Swoop do this work later!" Then he turned his attention to the other side of the 'Con's chest.

"So, why didja transform just now?" Jazz continued.

"Sir. To converse properly with you as a Cybertronian." His face contorted with pain, the mech held very still under Swoop's ministrations.

Thunder rolled. Prowl spoke over the radio from his concealment in the woods. -:- Mirage, Bluestreak, continue on your patrol.-:-

Mirage looked relieved and smiled, "Come along Bluestreak! We have ground to cover." He transformed and revved his engine a little.

Bluestreak looked a little disappointed but he moved to follow Mirage. He handed the strafing gun to Jazz as he passed, saying, "We finally have some excitement on patrol and I can't even take the 'Con to the brig."

Jazz laughed, accepting the weapon. "Tha's okay, Blue, we'll let you tell it at turnover. There's nobody for Blaster to talk to right now 'cept Cosmos who already knows."

Prowl remained hidden. -:-Blaster won't be telling any of this until we have an understanding. Go on with Mirage, Bluestreak.-:-

Bluestreak smiled, "See ya back at the Ark!" As the first drops started to fall, he transformed and drove away with Mirage.

"Aahk!" Swoop's dismayed call made the remaining transformers wince. "No good! Me Swoop not fix broken hot-wires in rain - fry patient, maybe fry me Swoop, too." The rain started in earnest and a flash of lightning cut the sky. As the water ran into torn places on Starrunner, a few sparks flew, highlighting the damage to not only the transceivers and his fuselage on the only partially-transformed side but the leg-joint Bluestreak had shot.

While Swoop spoke, rain started to fall and Ironhide stepped into view. He thought he recognized the stranger. "Hey! Ain't ya the Seeker that pulled Grimlock outta the muck the other day? Yeah, that was you. Yer a strong flyer - what are ya doin' landin' in the dirt like this?" he drawled, replacing his cannon with his actual hand.

Prowl appeared where the Autobots could see him but Starrunner could not, scowling. Jazz's smile never wavered, but he was calculating. Starrunner looked abashed but responded to Ironhide, saying, "Sir. My landing gear was already damaged, Sir." Then he grimaced hard as Swoop caused something in his knee to crackle and spark. "Swoop, I powered down as many systems as I can but that section is unresponsive."

Jazz moved away to retrieve the discarded damaged 'weaponry' Mirage had lit up. "We'll hafta continue our conversation in the Ark, Starrunner, I'm not standin' aroun' in the rain 'til mornin'."

"Yes Sir. I can walk." Starrunner grimaced as something in his torso hissed.

"No," Prowl began, holding up a hand to preclude interruption by Ironhide and Jazz who both looked likely to protest, obviously thinking he meant them to stay where they were. Starrunner startled a little but did not even try to turn around to look for the new Autobot. Swoop squawked. Prowl addressed the Seeker, "You will not walk, Starrunner, because we are not going to expose ourselves for several hours just to transfer you to a holding cell under your own power. Watching Swoop work, I am not convinced you can walk that far. Can you fly?"

-X-X-X-

Starrunner grimaced, scolding himself for again addressing a senior officer who did not ask a question. He wanted this to go smoothly and not invite punishment for speaking out of turn. A fluid line in his torso where Skywarp and Thundercracker had nearly crushed him split and Starrunner felt fluid run slowly down the inside of his plating, then start dripping down inside his leg. He'd turned the diagnostic off hours before and so didn't know if it was hydraulic fluid, energon or coolant. The new injury hissed; it was a pressurized system. Transforming must have put too much stress on the damaged line. Maybe he could not walk, after all.

A new Cybertronian spoke from behind him: "No, you will not walk, Starrunner, because we are not going to expose ourselves for several hours just to transfer you to a holding cell under your own power... Can you fly?" Starrunner never imagined Number Four would come to meet him at all; it stood to reason that if he did investigate, he would not come alone. This voice spoke with emotionless authority that startled Starrunner a bit.

"No Sir," Starrunner answered, looking desperately at Number Four. From the Dinobot's exclamation and the look on Red One's face, Starrunner guessed that Number Four was no longer the ranking Cybertronian on the scene.

-X-X-X-

"No Sir," the Seeker answered without turning away from Jazz, optics bright. Ironhide and Jazz found the expression on his faceplates out of place on a Decepticon.

Prowl turned his attention to Swoop. "Swoop, can you fly him back to the Ark? I know you can get above the storm with the added weight; are you comfortable escorting him to the Repair Bay alone?"

Swoop looked appraisingly at Starrunner. "Yes, me Swoop carry Snarl back from Africa, carry Starrunner to Ark easy! He try anything funny," as he spoke, Swoop stood up from where he'd been kneeling to attend to Starrunner's knee. He looked the 'Con straight in the optic as he finished, "like scorpion crossing river on turtle - me Swoop drop him Starrunner like bad habit." Even with the rain pouring off his crest comically, Swoop looked intimidating at that moment.

-X-X-X-

-:-Cosmos to Ark, come in Ark.-:-

Blaster turned his music down a notch to respond, -:-I'm still waitin' here for news from far an' near!-:-

-:-Blaster, Swoop's inbound with the Decepticon. Prowl wants Ratchet ready in the repair bay and Sunstreaker and Sideswipe to meet Swoop at the entry. So far, this 'Con's been nothing but cooperative, but that could change at any moment.-:- Pause. -:-Be back with you in a tick.-:-

"Primus! This guy's gonna have the whole Ark awake early today!" Blaster waited, music completely off now, hoping he wouldn't have to roust Ratchet and the Dynamic Duo out of recharge. The Twins had only been back from patrol for a few hours, themselves.

-:-Delete that: Swoop's there. I told him to circle a few times to give you a few minutes to get everyone in place. Cosmos out.-:-

-:-Whoa, Cosmos! You mean y- -:-

Cosmos uncharacteristically cut Blaster off: -:-Fraggit, Blaster! I relay information. The information is that Prowl wants Ratchet in the repair bay and the Lamborghinis at the door, now. Actually, 30 seconds ago. Cosmos out.-:-

Blaster was shocked. Nearly speechless, he replied flatly, -:-Ark out.-:-

-X-X-X-

-:-Land now?-:- Swoop asked Cosmos over their radio connection.

-:-Yes, Swoop, you can land now. Just do it slowly in case Blaster hasn't carried out his instructions yet.-:-

"We go to Ark now," Swoop said to Starrunner. Swoop had a firm grip on his undamaged arm with both taloned Pteronadon feet. The 'Con's red optics glowed faintly up at him in the night. Swoop began his descent, continuing the slow circle above the storm clouds. When they reached the level of the weather, he changed their track to go directly in, as quickly as he could. Luckily, the storm had relented to a light rain.

"Flyer: identify yourself!" a large voice boomed out of the dark and rain.

-:-Me Swoop with Patient.-:- Swoop answered over the radio knowing he was now in range of the Ark and Omega Supreme on sentry duty.

"Swoop with Patient: proceed," Omega answered, remaining out of sight against the mountain.

Within sight of the light at the entrance to the Ark, Swoop slowed his flight. Nearly hovering, he released his cargo from only a few inches above the ground. Starrunner landed on his feet but his damaged knee gave and he fell forward, catching himself on his free arm. Swoop transformed and landed a few feet away. "Sorry," he said, closing the distance and helping Starrunner stand.

Starrunner just looked at him.

"Twins not hurt you Starrunner, just," Swoop paused as he started them tramping through the mud of the old riverbed toward the Ark, looking for the perfect word, "in-sur- ance."

The pair standing squarely in the doorway parted as Swoop approached, clearly in control of the situation. When Blaster rang their quarters, they'd been in the middle of a video game: Sideswipe had been losing and so welcomed the strange direction to report to the entrance post-haste. He smiled at Swoop. Sunstreaker was his usual self; "Keep your distance with that filth," he snarled, making it clear he meant more than the muddy mess covering Swoop's charge.

"We go to repair bay now," Swoop said.

"Lead the way," said Sunstreaker, gesturing for Swoop and Starrunner to proceed. He and Sideswipe fell in a few paces behind them, avoiding the mud the pair were tracking in. The four walked in silence to the repair bay doors.

Once there, Sideswipe actually passed them to get the door for them, just so he could taunt Ratchet. "Hey Ratch'! D'you need Sunstreaker and me to stand guard, in case this 'Con's too much for you and Swoop?"

Obligingly, Ratchet cursed Sideswipe, his brother and their maker to the depths of the Pit. "Out! Let us work!" Swoop ushered Starrunner into the room.

Smirking, Sideswipe stepped back out, throwing back over his shoulder, "You're right. With Swoop workin' on him, he may not be long for this world! G'night, Ratch'!" He closed the door behind him.

"So, I suppose you're the best Decepticon science has to offer?" Ratchet grumbled, turning from where he'd been laying out diagnostic tools.

"No Sir," Starrunner answered.

Not listening for a response, Ratchet got his first good look at what Swoop had brought him. "No." He shook his head emphatically. "No Primus-forsaken way am I working on you until you're clean! Swoop, what were you thinking, bringing him here like this?" Swoop almost had time to begin to answer. "No, I don't care what Prowl said. What's the first rule in treating unknown injuries when you're not on a battlefield?" This time he did expect an answer and he crossed his arms over his chest to wait for it.

"Awwk. Always clean: clean self, clean tools, clean patient," Swoop recited proudly. He had a good memory, and was fairly consistent in using it.

"Get to it!" Ratchet dismissed them.

To Starrunner, Swoop said quietly, "We go to wash rack now. Not far." Never letting go of Starrunner's good arm, Swoop steered them back toward the door.

Outside, the Lamborghinis were waiting. They looked surprised.

"Quiet," said Swoop in his best authoritative tone. Medicine wasn't the only thing he was trying to learn from Ratchet.

The Twins exchanged a look. Sunstreaker shrugged a shoulder slightly and the two again fell in behind Swoop and Starrunner. The four walked to the wash room in silence. Swoop led Starrunner inside, the Twins wisely flanked the door.

Swoop guided Starrunner into the first bay. "You Starrunner hold rail. Mud not dry, come off easy." Swoop decided that the best way to go about this was with the low-pressure hose: warm clean water took most of the mud off without even having to turn the soap on. Under the bright light of the wash room, Swoop got a much better look at Starrunner's injuries. The reason transforming had torn so much of his skin was that he was badly dented beforehand. Some of the damage was obviously from landing without his gear down; the landing gear housing was crushed thoroughly. Swoop could see that even with most of Starrunner in his bipedal form. The side of his torso that had not returned to primary- mode was damaged significantly worse than the other, even given the tears caused by transforming. Swoop couldn't tell where the transformation seams even were on that side, it was so bent.

As the warm water washed over him, Starrunner off-lined his optics.

Swoop noticed the darkened optics and turned the water off. Shaking Starrunner gently by the shoulder, "You Starrunner still with me Swoop?"

Optics back on-line, Starrunner replied, "Yes, Swoop." Unaccustomed to such attentive treatment, Starrunner decided to make a request. "Let me do this?"

Swoop thought for a moment, optics narrowed. Decision made, he stood up to his full height and held the water-wand out to Starrunner. "You Starrunner clean self. Be quick, Ratchet not patient." He didn't step away but he did remove his hand from Starrunner's shoulder.

-X-X-X-

Starrunner really hadn't expected Swoop to comply at all. Gratefully he took the hose from Swoop and held the nozzle up over his head, letting the water run down his helm, faceplates and neck first. He could feel the water running down inside his plating through all the tears in his skin, but the dirt had gotten in there first and unbeknownst to Swoop some of it was dried hard. Awkwardly, he moved the nozzle nearly into each of his wounds, wincing as the water shorted minor mechanisms and electricity crackled. Swoop moved as if to steady him, but Starrunner noticed. "No," he said wearily, "I can do this, Swoop."

It was just a few minutes later, but to Starrunner it seemed like hours that he carefully cleaned himself. The strain of keeping his balance became evident when his hand started to shake, making it harder to control the flow of water. Stubbornly, he poked the nozzle into the side of his injured knee and watched in morbid fascination as the water flowed out around his foot, first thick and muddy brown then oily dark water as the various fluids that had pooled there after Bluestreak shot him were washed away.

Swoop squawked, watching that. Starrunner swayed alarmingly and Swoop set one hand on his good shoulder (the one that looked like a shoulder and not like an airplane's fuselage) and took hold of the water-wand with the other. "Enough," he said emphatically as the water ran nearly clear. "Me Swoop say enough. Any more dirt inside plating, we clean when we find. Me Swoop need be clean before him Ratchet see again, too." He set the nozzle in a fitting in the wall and ushered Starrunner to the bay door frame. "You Starrunner stand right here and hold onto rail again. Me Swoop not take long."

Starrunner was too exhausted to answer. His internal systems check showed his energon levels at less than two percent nominal; now that he had transformed and seen the extent of his injuries he knew he was not going to be able to deploy solar arrays. He could not see that region of his back but if he acknowledged the sensors there they registered as much pain as his front. He had to conserve energy. He powered down everything except his audio receptors and his gyros.

Swoop saw the dimmed optics again and cursed softly. He quickly rinsed the last of the mud from his feet and turned the water off. "We dry, then go," he said by way of warning, before lifting Starrunner bodily and carrying him quickly to the dryers.

Starrunner chose not to power any other systems back up: he had to have enough energy to speak with Number Four when he arrived. Why were the Autobots being so attentive? Swoop set him gently on the floor under a dryer and turned on the flow of hot air saying something else to Starrunner that did not require a response. He'd had just enough energy left to wait the night out in that clearing if he had to; planning to fly here under his own power after a few hours' sun in his alt mode. But for some reason he couldn't imagine the Autobots had immediately sent the very Cybertronian he was asking after out to meet him. With a field medic, of all things. Starrunner had assumed the Dinobot would dump him in the repair bay to have his memory scanned and be deactivated by this Ratchet, certain that the simple consideration was mostly a ploy to get him to cooperate. Not that it was necessary: even before his last encounter with the other Seekers, he had resolved to do this. The continued kindness was unnerving. Who treated a prisoner like this? Why? It reminded him that he really didn't want to be deactivated, allowed him hope he might find a place in this garrison.

The dryer he was under cycled off. A tick later, the dryer Swoop was using also stopped, leaving the room silent again. Swoop said something that sounded like a question.

"Repeat the question, Swoop," Starrunner said.

"Not important." Swoop picked him up again and headed for the hallway.

"I can walk, Swoop." That may not be true for long with energon levels at one-point-seven percent, but this attention was humiliating. Starrunner wasn't sure why he cared, he had no reason to care what anyone thought. He would tell Number Four what he could and be done with it. Be done with everything.

"Not as fast as me Swoop can carry you Starrunner," Swoop replied, nodding curtly at the Lamborghini brothers as he strode out of the wash room.

"Now that's just too much," Sunstreaker began commentary on the scenario.

"You Sunstreaker explain to him Ratchet why it take so long to get back, if him Starrunner try to walk there," Swoop overrode him confidently. "You Sunstreaker not see what me Swoop see, what him Ratchet see very soon. You Sunstreaker not medic!"

Sideswipe again leapt ahead to open the repair bay door. Before he could harass Ratchet, Swoop stomped in with Starrunner. "Thank you, Sideswipe, leave now." Sideswipe looked surprised. He half-saluted Swoop and left the bay.

-X-X-X-

Watching the door open, Ratchet readied a verbal assault for Sideswipe. Swoop shouldered the red rogue out of the way without slowing down. Polite to a fault, his student said, "Thank you, Sideswipe, leave now." Ratchet chuckled.

Swoop carefully placed Starrunner on the repair table where Ratchet had prepared the diagnostic equipment. "What funny?"

Ratchet clapped the Dinobot on the back. "Sideswipe. You crushed him." He looked down at the Decepticon. "Is he functional?"

"Me Swoop not crush Sideswipe! Sideswipe function normally!" Swoop's vocalization strayed toward the Pteranodon-call range.

With another laugh, Ratchet ran the preliminary scans that were just part of his personal senses over the black Seeker. "I meant him. And you did crush Sideswipe, figuratively."

"Oh!" Swoop sounded relieved. "Yes, him Starrunner functions, listening only, very low on energon. Wind down like Snarl."

"Listening, hmmm? Is this a trick?" Ratchet chose the damage to Starrunner's knee as the top priority - the other large injuries looked older. He torqued something he expected would get the mech's attention, like he normally treated the twins: keep them alert and riled, keep them hating him so they learned to take better care of themselves off the battlefield.

Starrunner only twitched a micron and suppressed a moan.

"Swoop, hand me those pliers. So, Starrunner is it?" Ratchet accepted the tool from Swoop, "Thank you, Swoop. They roused me out of recharge," he snipped at twisted plating, briefly waited for a reaction that didn't come, "told me to get the repair bay ready to receive a prisoner." Snip, pause, "You look more like collateral damage." Snip, pause, find release mechanism for shin dermal plating, "Did I mistake my intel? I could have sworn he said to expect a Decepticon." Remove shin plate, assess damage. "Didn't know we had any neutral camps left on Cybertron. How'd you come to be here?"

Starrunner realized Ratchet meant to be addressing him. "Sir? Repeat the question, Sir."

"Formal Cybertronian is it?" Connect meter to cable, pause for reading, "no need for that here. How'd a neutral like you come to be here?" Remove meter and reconnect farther up, pause, verify lack of continuity all along wire, not just in the vicinity of the broken coolant line.

"No Sir, not neutral." Starrunner only winced as Ratchet snipped the unreliable cable along with the sections of broken coolant line and split hydraulic line to his left foot. "Swoop brought me, Sir."

"Not neutral. Hmmmm," Ratchet kept working on the lower leg, hadn't gotten to the joint damaged by Bluestreak's disperser rifle. "Smart-aft. What happened to your badging? Swoop, see how this bit of cable is spotted all along the length of it? That's either from a lightning strike or a weapon like Bluestreak's. If you see this, you have to check the rest of the 'Bot's wiring very carefully, even shut him down and check as much of his cabling as you can get access to. Lightning strikes can be deadly, even if the victim seems fine: little breaks in the wires will separate inside the insulation at the worst time or the weak spots you can see in the insulation will cause shorts. Bad enough to short to plating, worse to short to other wires, causing mixed signals, false signals or small internal fires. It's actually better sometimes," pause to open up the knee the rest of the way and allow Starrunner a moment to flinch, "when the strike damages something catastrophically. Gets the damaged 'Bot into the med bay as soon as possible. Sure it's," pause to inspect the joint mechanisms more closely.

"Starscream wanted it, Sir," Starrunner finally heard an opening in which to answer Ratchet's question.

Ratchet had forgotten he'd asked a question. "Hmm? Right. Stop that 'Sir'-slag, name's Ratchet." Running his fingertips over the structure of the joint, he felt nothing amiss, "It's messy when the strike passes through the cooling system or the hydraulic system, it usually ruptures major lines and bursts a pump or two, but," pause to gesture to Swoop, "Clamp here, Swoop." Pause to allow Swoop to place the clamp. "Good." Resume damage assessment up into the thigh as well as train of thought, "It's less likely to actually kill a mech before he realizes he's damaged and can get to medical. His friends notice the vital fluid all over the place and bring him in. Happened to Skyfire once while Prime and Ironhide were aboard."

Ratchet continued to evaluate Starrunner's condition, removing plating that was obviously damaged and the plating adjacent to it; checking electrical cables with a circuit tester; assessing coolant lines, hydraulic lines and motivity cables with hyper-sensitive finger pads; evaluating the patient's processor functions by watching his reaction to the most painful work; and instructing Swoop along the way. The Decepticon was young, possibly newer than the Dinobots. The inside surfaces of his plating hadn't built up their protective layer of oxidation yet. The injuries were far from fatal, but deep - the shiny new metal had taken a pounding. There were transformation cogs in the damaged side that would have to be fabricated from scratch, and Ratchet had no intention of spending that kind of resources on a neutral or a Decepticon. He considered leaving the Seeker one-armed but his sense of duty and Swoop's protest led him to go for symmetry and decide to transform the mech manually to his primary mode.

-X-X-X-

Starrunner tried to follow what the medic said, tried to retain some semblance of suspicion and alertness. The sense that he was being slowly disassembled by skillful hands did not alarm him like he thought it should: it was less painful than what had come before. He floated in a daydream about flying through a cloudbank that shucked his plating away with only little pinpricks of pain/pleasure until there was nothing left but his spark free in the gray twilight.

Until Ratchet got to his untransformed arm, then pain like the one time Shockwave shot him, 'To teach what pain is,' made him shake. He suppressed an exclamation and reflexively on-lined his optics to look at Swoop in shock, certain they were going to deactivate him before he had a chance to deliver his messages. "Give Number Four the contents of my data banks," he vocalized desperately.

Swoop squawked. "Transfer data later - go off-line now!"

-X-X-X-

Ratchet just started the process of opening the partially transformed plating and Starrunner tried weakly to sit up. Swoop held him down easily, hoping he wasn't making any of the damage worse.

"Give Number Four the contents of my data banks!"

"Tra-awk! Transfer data later - go off-line now," Swoop hated to see any creature in pain, never played cat-and-mouse with anything. If there was killing to be done, he'd do it quickly. There was no need for this mech to be alert to what he and Ratchet had to do next. With most of his chest open, Swoop identified his main data cable and disconnected it deftly. Starrunner's optics went completely dark when that connection between his processor and spark was opened.

"I don't often allow that," Ratchet grated to Swoop, "normally I think it's better for a mech to have to deal with the consequences of what he does to himself, and the reactions of an alert patient are the best way to gauge progress." He paused in his work a moment, something about this Decepticon obviously starting to bother him. "You did right."

Swoop preened a bit at the praise.

-X-X-X-

Driving through the rain in the darkest part of the night was not Prowl's idea of a good time. In fact, no part of this evolution had been Prowl's idea of a good time. The relatively quiet evening in his quarters had been a good time, interrupted.

"Gives meanin' to the term 'rain-check'," Jazz said to him out of the blue. Even in his auto-mode, Prowl could hear Jazz smiling.

He'd deny it if asked, but Jazz's knack for deducing his thoughts had grown on him. Ironhide was far enough behind him not to hear, so Prowl replied, "No need for a sale when the customer is loyal."

"You're gettin' better at this!" Jazz flashed his brake lights once before dodging a downed tree-limb, trying to give Prowl enough warning to follow his lead instead of just the middle of the road saying, "Watch that!"

Prowl slowed down. "Let's wait a moment for Ironhide to make sure he sees that. It is too big for him to clear, too." They waited briefly, then Prowl transformed and moved the limb to the side of the road. Ironhide approached at his own pace.

"Why thank ya, Prowl," Ironhide said slowly, arriving in easy audio-range just as Prowl dropped the obstacle in the ditch, "but I hope ya don't think I'm that decrepit yet!"

Jazz beat Prowl to whatever he was going to say, "You said you're gettin' too old for this, Ironhide! Prowl's just bein' considerate." All the rain in Oregon couldn't stop Jazz from being cheerful and teasing his friends.

Transforming, Prowl added, "We are not the only ones who drive this road but we are likely to be among very few who are equipped to move a blockage that large."

They drove in silence for a while after that, Ironhide bringing up the rear and Jazz leading the way.

On the final approach to the Ark, up the normally dry riverbed, Jazz broke the silence. "Whaddaya think, Prowl?"

"I think the storm is getting stronger again," Prowl replied, avoiding the conversation he knew Jazz intended to start. This was about as serious as Jazz ever sounded. They were nearly home; he'd hoped to put off this topic until then. "We cannot get back to the Ark fast enough." Lightning struck a tree behind them startling all three 'Bots into a burst of speed.

"If Swoop made it back in one piece through this, I'll be impressed," Ironhide drawled mostly to himself, skirting a deep puddle Jazz and Prowl had just plunged through, spraying muddy water all over themselves.

"Why was he askin' for me, though? When would he have seen me, let alone got the idea in his head that he wants ta talk ta me, of all 'Bots?" Splashing through another pothole, "Ummpf! Avoid that one, Prowl." Resuming his train of thought, "You or Prime, sure, all the 'Con's prob'ly know who ya are and what ya do. Skyfire, maybe, havin' briefly worn the purple haze, but me? I never saw the guy before tonight!"

Narrowly skirting the indicated puddle - his undercarriage was lower than Jazz's - Prowl processed Jazz's questions. "Ironhide is right, he was the unknown Seeker we encountered in Africa. Did he observe your behavior with the Ogoni?"

"If he did, it was from a distance - I'm tellin' you, Prowl, I never saw him before." They rounded the last bend in the riverbed leading to the Ark.

"Drivers: identify yourselves," Omega Supreme boomed. The huge 'Bot could get so much volume through his vocalizer that it was impossible to tell where he was, he sounded like he was right in their audios.

Jazz answered for all of them, pumping his vocalizer output through his speaker system, "Heya, Omega! This is Jazz, returnin' with Prowl an' 'Hide."

"Jazz, Prowl, Ironhide: proceed," Omega Supreme answered.

"Thanks, man!" Jazz replied, "Stay dry!"

Omega rumbled back at him wordlessly, appreciating the thought even though he couldn't get in out of the weather if he had to.

Transforming just inside the entrance, Jazz turned to Prowl, his grin returning, "Wanna play good cop/bad cop?"

"Only you'll be playing," Prowl groused as he transformed. "We should hit the washracks before going to medical to begin our interrogation," he mused, watching Ironhide roll in behind them with water pouring off of him. "Ironhide, you are not as muddy as we are. Would you go to the repair bay and see if Ratchet has left that Decepticon in one piece?"

If Ironhide had gotten any mud on him, the rain had washed it away. He was just wet; water ran off his boxy form as he transformed. "I don't think Ratchet'll throw me outta medical," he'd planned ahead: he retrieved a transformer-sized towel from what had been his passenger compartment. "I'll see ya there in a few?" he asked as he dried himself off.

"Yes. Try to find out what he wants," Prowl started walking away.

Jazz lingered a moment. "If he tells ya why he's lookin' for me, let me know?"

Ironhide smiled, "O' course, Jazz, but I bet he won't talk much ta anybot but you. I just have that feelin'." When Jazz lingered, Ironhide added, "Go on now, 'fore the place gets crowded."

Giving Ironhide a questioning look - this was easily the weirdest day Jazz had lived in a while - he walked quickly to catch Prowl.

-X-X-X-

Ironhide moseyed on to medical, in no hurry to insert himself in what he expected to be the most beneficial thing they could do with this Decepticon: let Ratchet deal with him. If the mech were one of the more violent types, Ratchet would quickly put him off-line whether he cooperated or not. If the mech were the confused youngster he appeared to be, Ratchet would treat him kindly and get more information out of him than anyone, regardless of what his connection to Jazz might be. If he were somewhere in between, Ironhide would trust Ratchet's judgment.

Sunstreaker and Sideswipe were lurking in the vicinity of the repair bay door, on either side of the hallway. They straightened a bit as Ironhide approached.

"Don't put on a show on mah account," Ironhide made stand-down motions with one hand, "I know ya wouldn't let anythin' get by. How long ya been out here?"

"Less than an hour," Sideswipe replied.

Sunstreaker spoke up, arms crossed over his chest and head bowed sulkily, "Part of that time was standing guard outside the washracks while Swoop gave his boyfriend a sponge bath. Can we go now?"

"That is not an image I needed in mah processor. Secure that nonsense an' come on in with me and I'll let ya know if we need yer services or not," Ironhide said, opening the door. "Hey Ratchet! How's ahr 'Con? Have ya removed his databanks yet?"

"Him Starrunner probably believe you Ironhide," Swoop replied quietly, coming toward the door to meet the trio. "You Lambos can go now, him Starrunner off-line, we handle when wake."

Sideswipe had breezed past Swoop, wanting a good look at the source of the chaos this morning. Now that he wasn't covered in mud, the Decepticon looked almost familiar. "Hey, Sunny, do we know this guy?" he turned to look at his brother who remained in the doorframe.

"No. How should I know? He looks like spare parts and we normally meet Seekers in jet -mode. Let's go so I can finish mopping the pavement with your aft." Only Sunstreaker could sound annoyed and teasing at the same time.

Sideswipe moved back toward the door, passing Ironhide and Swoop. "If he gives anything away, let me know," he glanced back at the partially disassembled mech, "I think I recognize him from somewhere." Ironhide gave a brief nod of his head and Swoop made to shoo Sideswipe out the door. "I'm going!" Sideswipe protested, shoving a little at his brother as he came up on the door. "Outta the way, Sunshine!" and they started to tussle a little as the door closed.

"They have too much fun," Ironhide mused, stalking over to the table where Starrunner lay. "Wooo. Ratchet did almost reduce him to spare parts. Wha'did he do, get belligerent when ya got him back here?" Taking a good look at Swoop he said, "You don't look any the worse for wear. Did he try to attack Ratchet? Or just refuse medical attention?"

"No," Swoop answered, shaking his crested head at Ironhide. "Him Starrunner quiet, too low on energon to stand in washrack. Him Ratchet kept finding more damage, then had to transform him Starrunner's side by hand." He looked back at their patient, "Me Swoop sent him Starrunner off-line - too much pain too low on energon. Started transfusion and him Ratchet went to talk to him Wheeljack about new cogs," Swoop thoughtfully picked up the mangled transformation gear cluster, "Him Starrunner unable to make jet-mode for now, maybe fix later. Ratchet think him Starrunner sparkling, maybe younger than me Swoop."

"Don't be identifyin' with him too much now, Swoop," Ironhide advised, "he's a Decepticon and might be here for any number o' reasons, most of 'em no good fer us."

"Him Starrunner say have data for him Jazz. Maybe data help Autobots, maybe data hurt Autobots," Swoop set the damaged cog down and started straightening out an armor plate that looked like it might be a shin guard. "We make him Starrunner whole root-mode then you Autobots decide what to do with him Starrunner. That not medic's call."

-X-X-X-
Continued in Second Half