Chapter Text
Optimus had gathered Jazz, Ratchet, Red Alert and Ironhide in the control room for an emergency session. Blaster was also present just due to the fact that he was manning Teletraan I. They were attempting to plan a rescue of their kidnapped mechs. They first had to figure out just where their mechs had been taken.
Ironhide and Ratchet were visibly angry, Red Alert was just able to keep his panic in check and Jazz… Jazz was quiet and focused. Most telling, though, was just how still he was, every movement economical and calculated. As if he were saving his energy for the right moment to pounce and strike.
They were deep in discussion, looking at coordinate maps when they got a transmission from the Decepticons. Fearing it was so that they could gloat over their new prisoners, Optimus answered promptly.
It was Megatron on the other end of the transmission, but he looked sour and suspicious.
“Prime. Would you so kindly tell me where my Seeker armada has disappeared to?”
To his credit, Optimus didn’t let too much of his surprise show through. “I would like to know that as well, Megatron, seeing as how they just abducted three of my troops.”
This only made Megatron frown harder, but he didn’t bother to accuse Optimus of lying, it wasn’t the Prime’s way.
“Curious.” He muttered. “Perhaps it is a true mutiny, then.”
Ever the diplomat, Optimus said evenly and carefully, “Considering the circumstances, I would request that you not try to impede us from retrieving our troops when we come across the Seekers.”
Megatron focused back on the Autobot leader with a small smirk, “Considering the circumstances, I might just leave them to their fates.”
From off-screen the multi toned monotone of Megatron’s third in command intoned. “Megatron. Activation of space bridge: detected. Seeker signatures: present.”
The Decepticon leader’s optics sharpened, calculating. “I tire of my Second’s schemes. I have a proposition for you, Prime. Since you will likely try to overtake the space bridge to follow them anyway, I offer you a temporary ceasefire and a free trip to Cybertron to find out what those blasted Seekers are doing.”
“I doubt you are doing such out of the kindness of your spark,” Optimus said dryly.
Megatron laughed. “Of course not. Your Autobot will give them more targets to shoot at if they prove to be treacherous.”
“Allow me a joor to think over your offer, I will call you with an answer.”
Megatron was still smirking, likely already aware of what Optimus’ answer would be. “I will be waiting, Prime.”
And with that the communication cut.
“Prime-!” Red Alert tried, but Optimus cut him off.
“Red Alert, I want you to make a list of the most likely ways this could be a trap. You have half a joor.”
The Security Director seemed surprised for a moment and then he nodded sharply and left, heading for his office.
“Ironhide, put together a small force to take through the space bridge. No more than ten bots. Half a joor.”
“Ya got it, Prime.”
“Ratchet, Jazz, with me.” Then Optimus turned and led them out of the command center at a ground-eating pace.
The two smaller bots trotted quickly to keep up with him. When they arrived at his office, he closed the door behind him and went to stand in front of his desk.
“What’s this about, Optimus?” Ratchet asked.
“A moment, please.” The Prime requested. He stared down at an abandoned datapad pensively for just a moment before picking it up. He turned on the datapad and read it over at an amazing pace. He nodded his helm to himself and then turned his optics to the two bots waiting patiently.
“Whatever is said in this office is not to leave it, understood?”
Mutely, both Jazz and Ratchet nodded.
“I asked you two to accompany me because the Matrix encouraged it. Now I know why.” He held up the datapad. “Before our encounter with the Seekers in the National Park, Prowl was attempting to meet with me to discuss an urgent matter. He brought this with him. This is a dossier containing proof that he, Smokescreen and Bluestreak are creations of the Command Trine. They are, in fact, Seekers themselves. They have spent a long time hiding what they are, up to and including personal code manipulation and minor frame alterations.”
Ratchet and Jazz were both silent for a moment in shock.
Ratchet recovered first, he snatched the datapad from Optimus’ servos with a furious, “They did what to their code?” He started snarling creative curses under his breath
Jazz was quiet for longer.
“Jazz?” Optimus asked apprehensively.
“Jus’ connetin’ some puzzle pieces, OP. There’s a coupla things that make a whole lotta more sense now.”
He must have caught something in Optimus’ gaze or EMF because he hastened to add. “I ain’t angry at ‘em. I’m the last bot t’ get steamed ‘bout bots havin’ secrets.”
“I do not want this to adversely affect your relationship with Prowl. I know you two were becoming closer.”
“We definitely got some stuff t’ talk ‘bout when we get ‘im back, but I ain’t gonna drop ‘im just ‘cause ‘e ‘as ‘Screamer fo’ a parent.”
“If anything he’ll need extra support for that… or a therapist.” Ratchet muttered, optics still on the datapad.
Optimus ignored him and spoke to Jazz. “I am glad to hear that, my friend.”
Jazz leaned against the wall, “So, I take it we’re gonna take ol’ Megs up on his offer?”
“It seems to be the best option,” Optimus said. “It will be the easiest way to get to Cybertron if the Seekers have, indeed, taken them there.”
“I’d be willing to bet a large sum of shinax that they did.” Ratchet said grumpily, having finished reading. “And I’d be willing to take an educated guess of where on Cybertron they’ve taken them. With this information and an intoxicated conversation I once had with a Seeker medic back in my academy cycles, I would posit that they have taken them to Vos to complete their upgrades… whether they want that or not.”