Ep 2: The 3 AM Wake Up Call (Closed)

[Deleted]

(Set day 1, week 1, ep 2. 3 AM in the morning)

Late night. Or early morning depending on how you look at it. Wheeljack grimly surveyed his workspace. It was neatish. Almost borderline clean. Tidy.

A state it hadn't been in since he'd first got it. Wheeljack generally didn't bother keeping track of his mess, he knew where he kept most of his things and so it really didn't bother him. But that itching under his plates had been growing stronger these cycles. The urge to roam and go wherever the slag he wanted, frag the consequences had been tugging away at his spark.

He needed to get out of here. Wheeljack didn't like staying in one place for too long, his wanderlust was almost comparable to his love for engineering. It had been a slow build but his wanderlust was weighing in just about equal now, in fact. He just had a few last things to take care of but Wheeljack knew it was any cycle now and he'd be gone from the Omega base. Where to, he wasn't quite sure but the Neutral base sounded like a good place to start. Red Alert had been kind enough to inform all Autobots about encountering Shockwave over there.

But first-

Wheeljack put away a box of assorted screws on a shelf before straightening up with a frustrated huff. He needed to clear his head. To think. It wasn't often that the Wrecker second guessed himself but Shockwave was one issue he had many, many thoughts about. And he'd been going in circles and driving himself a little stir crazy thinking about it here, by himself.

It was time for a change in scenery and nothing gave his thoughts clarity like the split-second decisions he needed to make during a fight.

Wheeljack didn't feel particularly like chasing down some co-ordinates and hoping to find a bunch of Vehicons there to work out his frustrations on. However, he did know that there was a mech only a ground bridge away who wouldn't ask many questions and likely would oblige him. And even if he didn't, well, the change of scenery would be nice and Wheeljack could always do with a long drive back to the Omega base to sort himself out.

The Wrecker left his lab and beelined towards the control room. It wasn't long before he had the ground bridge activated, same place he'd set himself only to a couple of cycles ago, except the co-ordinates had been updated, courtesy of Agent Fowler. Wheeljack paused only for a moment to key a brief message to warn Fortress Maximus he was about to get unexpected company before the Wrecker was striding down the ground bridge and through it.

::Hope you're awake, Max::

[Deleted]

There was a moment of silence across the commlink.

Then –

“Wheeljack?!” Shock rang through the link. “What are you – no, wait!”

An instant later the ground bridge whisked Wheeljack to his destination.

Bridge coordinates to the Black Rock military base had been provided by Agent Fowler himself, with the stern warning not to deviate from them. An incorrect entry – a misplaced number – would warp the Wrecker into a service hangar crowded with military vehicles, onto an active runway, a live firing range, the mess hall – any number of places where the abrupt materialization of a very large robot could spell catastrophe. Access to the base had been granted to the Wrecker with the proviso attached that he use only the provided coordinates to bridge there.

In a heartbeat, Wheeljack would see the reason why.

Rain drummed against the steel roof of the aircraft maintenance hangar he stood within. It was a massive structure, a steel–clad frame with anti–spalling lining and a worn cement floor, perhaps twenty thousand square foot in size. Its giant rolling doors were tightly shut against the damp weather outside.

Inside, the hangar was mostly dark. A few spotlights shone warmly in the dusty gloom, illuminating old metal scaffolding and a handful of second level gantries. The windows that ran along the lower walls were dark and streaked in rain. There was very little stored inside the hangar that Wheeljack would be able to see – a few steel tool cabinets, pipes and cables for the water and electrical systems, and two stacks of crates pinned down with tarps in the rear corner, where a small hanger office also lurked. Judging by the grime that coated its windows the office had not seen any use in years.

Behind him the ground bridge vanished. Wheeljack was left alone beneath a spotlight in the middle of the hangar, as if deliberately illuminated by a loving god. The rain beat gently over his head, echoing and hollow.

Something moved.

Backed against the rear corner of the hanger was a blue and grey tank. It sat between the stacks of crates, half–hidden by the tarps. It could not have wedged itself any tighter between them if it had tried.

Its turret swung to track Wheeljack’s arrival.

“Damn,” it groaned.

The tank transformed.

Fortress Maximus staggered up to his feet from a crouch. He grabbed a corner of the crates to steady himself as he stepped forward. His red optics were a little wild as he stared down at the Wrecker with blank incomprehension.

“Wheeljack?” he said. “It’s – it’s zero three hundred! What are you doing here at this hour?”

[Deleted]

The rain was the first thing Wheeljack was aware of as he strode through the ground bridge, distant as it came down overhead. Internally, he scowled at it, that might put a dampener on his plans. He hadn't bothered checking the weather before ground bridging and had simply assumed all would be well. Black Rock, after all, had been searing with heat last time he visited.

Although…

He peered into the gloom. From what he could make out, place seemed a lot fragging larger than the hangar he had that had been loosely converted into a workshop. Wheeljack didn't have time to get a better look, he caught sight of that turret pointed towards him. Internally, the Wrecker had tensed, it had not been so long ago that Fort Max had swung that thing in his general direction and given how startled Max had sounded over the comms, the Wrecker decided to err on the side of caution for once. He wasn't unduly worried about getting shot, only acknowledging that the possibility was maybe there.

Then the tank transformed and Max's surprised visage gazed back at him. The Wrecker may have chosen to ignore the wild look in those red optics or he may not have seen it all. He gave an one armed shrugged in response to the question being asked of him. "'m still running on deep space time. That hour supposed to be significant?" Wheeljack pondered.

He tilted his helm back, looking up at the ceiling and listening to the rain. Restlessly, Wheeljack shifted his weight on the spot. "Came here wondering if you were up to a spar," he finished, addressing the other half of Fort Max's question.

[Deleted]

Maximus said nothing.

The big mech sagged back against the crates. He propped himself up on one elbow and stared hard at Wheeljack, his gaze dark and his jaw tight. Judging by his agitated state the Wrecker had not interrupted a restful night of sleep.

An electric light buzzed above them, harsh and yellow. Gnats danced beneath the bulb. Beneath their feet the polished concrete floor was heavily scuffed, worn nearly white from pacing.

Rain pattered against the windows. Outside the hangar a gunshot echoed.

Finally Maximus ducked his head and pinched between his optics. He ran his hand down his face and pulled in two deep breaths.

"Space time," he said wearily. "Didn't even think of that. Sorry. I just - you surprised me. Wasn't expecting to hear from anyone at this time of night. Definitely wasn't expecting to see a ground bridge open. Gave me a turn."

He let his hand drop and offered Wheeljack a smile that was more like a grimace.

"Yeah, I'm up for a spar," he said. "Wasn't doing much here. Actually..."

A shadow passed across the warden's face. Maximus heaved upright and flexed his hands.

"Yeah. Yeah. You know what? That sounds good. Let's do it. Round two, huh? The rain and the dark shouldn't be an issue. The firing range is partially lit anyway. You thinking unarmed combat or swords?"

[Deleted]

A lesser mech might have fidgeted under Fort Max's hard gaze. Especially after disrupting the Warden's recharge, though judging by how tense he was, perhaps that disruption was a welcome one. One particular red minibot certainly would be looking for an escape strategy right about now in this point of time.

Wheeljack remained calm and placid, returning Max's gaze with his own bold stare. He waited patiently for a response. The Wrecker had been stared down by some of the most steel willed individuals ...back in academia. Nothing like defending your thesis against the extremely critical minds of your peers and mentors to teach you how to keep your composure. In some ways, Wheeljack looked back at those dim, distant, damaged memories as training for his life in the army. Certainly helped him keep his nerve in the face of a certain rule-bound commander.

"Space time. Didn't even think of that."

Wheeljack gave a soft snort. As far as the Wrecker was concerned, Earth had too few hours within one of their planetary cycles to get anything done. If he was following the planet's diurnal cycles, he would quickly fall behind in his work. The Wrecker gave a slightly apologetic shrug, it hadn't been his intention to startle the Warden. He quirked an optic as Max straightened up, coming to a decision.

A fight in the rain, huh? The Wrecker wasn't bothered. Hadn't been all that long ago Wheeljack had fought Buffalo Dump and Skywarp out in the wet and dark.

The Wrecker slightly twisted the top half of his frame, tilting to glance briefly at one of his swords jutting out over his shoulder. Wheeljack gave a slight flex of his shoulders and arms. "How 'bout unarmed?" he wasn't really concerned about a sword fight in the rain, it'd be slippery and probably just a bit more dangerous, true. That didn't bother him at all. An unarmed fight though, there was just less need to hold back.

And right now, Wheeljack really didn't feel like holding back at all.

[Deleted]

Maximus nodded.

“Unarmed, then,” he said. He absently rubbed one thumb across his optic. “Yeah. Yeah, yeah, yeah...”

All at once he strode forward, unsmiling and stiff. As he brushed past Wheeljack their electromagnetic fields briefly came into contact. Something dark and sharp seethed within the warden’s, crawling unseen across his heavy plating.

Two hard strides brought Maximus to the hanger doors. In one motion he hurled them open. The bottom roller screeched at the rough treatment, which brought a blustery gust of wind into the hangar along with a smattering of rain. Maximus ignored it as he scanned the ramp outside, his optics narrowed.

Even at that hour the base was far from quiet. A transport aircraft was taxiing slowly down the Bravo taxiway for runway 32, its landing and navigational lights and strobes glittering brightly in the night. Another big transport sat on a broad apron in front of row of hangars, lit up from below by the headlights of the fuelling trucks and tows parked around it. Base personnel worked on the ramps and trucks roared down the pavement, filling the air with noise and diesel fumes.

Two guards stood outside the hanger doors. Both wore dark ponchos over their uniforms, and carried rifles. They huddled together beneath the shelter of a side door and talked and stamped their boots against the damp chill. When Maximus flung open the hangar doors flung open they whirled towards him, startled.

“Sir!” One man hastily saluted, drawing his hand beneath the brim of his dripping hood. “Er, wasn’t expecting to see you at this hour. Miserable morning out here, sir.”

Maximus did not look down at them. Instead he scanned the horizon, where the distant glow of floodlights on the test range lit up the underside of the low–hanging rainclouds.

“I see that,” he said shortly. “This way, Wheeljack.”

The two guards exchanged glances.

“Sir!” The first guard took a step after Maximus as he strode out into the rain. He lifted his voice and shouted after him, “Sir, you’re not thinking of going out in this, are you? At this hour?”

Maximus did not stop “Yes. Just to the test range.”

“But–”

“It’s fine. The 221st are on the northern range doing live ammunition training, but we’ll be staying south and won’t be firing.”

“Yes, but–”

Alarmed, the guard shot an urgent look back at his comrade, who in turned squinted up at Wheeljack with a frown.

“You’ll be going with him, sir?” he said.

[Deleted]

All was clearly not well with Fort Max. Only one tight flick of the metal on Wheeljack's back was any sign that he'd picked up the sick emotion roiling away in the warden's field. Wheeljack cast a wary look at Max's back before trotting after him. They all had their demons. Wheeljack didn't even want to begin to contemplate the sort of things that would plague Max's recharge. The Wrecker was almost fortunate in that the worst moments of his life (probably) had been conveniently erased from his memory. There was nothing for him, so as to speak, to actually lose any recharge over.

The warden threw open the hangar doors, allowing in the wind that previously had been howling outside. Wheeljack treaded up to the door, peering outside to catch glimpse of the happenings going on outside. Though Max had implied something about this hour not being suited for activity, the base was clearly bustling right now as both humans and vehicles moved about with the same precision Wheeljack had witnessed in the daytime. Rain drizzled down on the Wrecker from where he stood, which he ignored. He was about to get a lot wetter in just a few moments anyway.

Curiously, Wheeljack turned his helm, watching the soldiers close by interact with Fort Max. One of them shot the warden a salute and the Wrecker briefly pondered over how Autobots fit in within human military structure. He did not have long to think over this, Fort Max was striding out into the rain and the Wrecker was quick to follow.

At the question addressed to him, Wheeljack stopped briefly, quirking an optic. He cast a deadpan look down upon himself, then glanced around as if looking for other people. Failing to find them, he looked back at the two soldiers.

"Guess I am," he remarked drolly.

[Deleted]

The guard grimaced at that.

He leaned to the side and gave the big mech trudging off into the rain a wary look. When he was certain that Maximus was out of earshot he settled back and grimly looked back up at the Wrecker.

"Better you than any of us, sir," he said in a low voice.

There was no trace of humour in it. Rain streaked down his tense, unsmiling face.

To the west a noisy roar echoed as the transport aircraft opened up its throttles, its four big turboprop engines howling. It thundered down the runway, its props thrashing the rain into a fine mist that spiralled back along its fuselage. After a short period of acceleration it lifted its nosegear from the asphalt and rotated, soaring aloft. Its gear clunked into its belly and it nosed upwards and into the ceiling. Its lights strobed within the clouds before fading, leaving behind only the lingering echo of its engines.

Ahead of Wheeljack, Maximus came to a halt. He stood at the edge of the ramp and watched the heavy aircraft disappear into the clouds. Then he looked back, his body lit from above by the airfield lighting.

"You coming?" he called back.

With a wince the guard looked up at Wheeljack again. His poncho shifted as he swung his weapon aside and lifted his hand to give the Wrecker a subtle thumbs up.

"Good luck, sir," he said. "Saw your last fight. I'll be pulling for you."

[Deleted]

Well, hadn't that been an interesting exchange. Wheeljack gazed steadily down back the soldier, his expression level. He ignored the load roar of the large aircraft as it prepared for take off. Instead he glanced briefly at Fort Max's back before returning his attention to the guards and the grim warning he'd subtly been given.

Hmm.

Interesting.

At Max's call, the Wrecker raised his head. He shot the guards a nod over his shoulder as he trundled off after the warden in the rain. As he approached Max, Wheeljack folded into his alt-mode. As he compacted downwards, his headlights flicked on in the darkness.

He revved his engine once. "Lead on."

[Deleted]

The guard waved to Wheeljack as he departed. If the Wrecker were to look back he would spot the other guard speaking urgently into the shoulder-mounted radio tucked within the hood of his poncho.

Meanwhile, Maximus waited for him at the edge of the ramp.

The big mech shifted on his feet, edgy and wide awake. A loading truck rumbled past them on the tarmac and he tracked it warily, his fists closed and his red optics glowing. When Wheeljack's headlights fell upon him he jumped and looked down at the sports car.

"Yeah, all right," he said. "We'll take a short cut this time. Just bypass the main range gate and go straight to the bunkers. Fewer guards to deal with that way. They're fine, the guards are fine, they just - they ask questions. Not in the mood to discuss anything with them right now. Follow me."

In a blitz of moving parts he crashed down into his alternate mode. The tank rocked on its tracks, its machine guns rattling in their mounts and its whip antennas snapping back and forth. The war machine shook itself, flinging rain from the seams in its armour. It shuddered and swung its turret around. One tread locked as the other ground into gear and pivoted the tank around on the spot.

"This way," it said.

The old hangar was isolated at the far end of the ramp, far removed from the light and bustle of the office terminals and aircraft hangars. From the ramp a narrow road led to the northern firing range. It was a winding road, rough dirt and poorly lit with a handful of post lights. A globe of yellow light shone around each lamp, glittering with falling rain.

It was with an odd reluctance that the tank took the lead. It rumbled down the road at crawl, its tracks grinding through the sloppy mud. As it had no headlights the path ahead of it remained dark. At one point the tank stopped in the middle of the road without any warning and sat idling, smoke trickling from its exhaust grill. It refused to budge for a minute or two, while the rain beat down against its armoured hull. Then it lurched forward again with a start.

At that jerky pace the two Autobots eventually reached a gate. It was a small one this time, lightly manned by two guards. They took shelter in a booth, but stepped out into the rain when the tank loomed up.

Whatever terse words they exchanged with Maximus went unheard in the rain. But one of the guards looked back at Wheeljack and shone a flashlight over his hood. He waved. Evidently word had gotten around about the Wrecker.

After the gate was lifted the tank led Wheeljack past the concrete bunkers and onto the flat, cratered surface of the firing range. Harsh floodlights filled the southern end of the range with an unnatural brightness. Beyond the edge of their radiance the desert was pitch dark. Now and then gunshots crackled in the night, followed by the booming roar of distant artillery.

The tank creaked to a halt and crouched low over its suspension. It went stock still. Not even the tip of an antenna twitched. Rain streamed down its flanks, cutting rivulets through the splattered mud.

It transformed.

Maximus rose to his feet. He stamped once and grimaced.

"Didn't think it would be this muddy," he said. He looked around himself at the puddles of water that saturated the mucky ground. "Hope you can find traction in this slag."

[Deleted]

Fort Max sure was jumpy tonight. The Wrecker didn't move, he kept still and listened patiently as Max somewhat stumbled through an explanation of their route before transforming. The way he'd repeated 'fine' suggested to Wheeljack that while the humans were okay, the mech he was dealing with wasn't in any near condition of the word. Slowly, Wheeljack pulled off behind after Max, keeping a reasonable distance between the two Autobots as Fort Max lead them through the base. The Wrecker recalled the warden's flight from the Omega base and allowed Max space so as to not make the big mech feel threatened. Rain poured down on the low slung sports car as it trundled behind Max, water splashing over his tires, streaking his undercarriage with dirt.

As they put the main base far behind them, the only source of illumination for Wheeljack was his headlights, pointed at the back of the tank ahead of him. It was fortunate he was keeping a close watch on the mech leading him on, there was a point when Fortress Maximus simply stopped in the middle of the road without a word of warning. The Wrecker halted immediately, keeping his distance and silence, waiting until Max was ready to move on. Wheeljack did not inquire what had caused Max to stall, nor did he entertain any thoughts speculating on the matter. Fort Max was entitled to his own privacy and unless he specifically decided to share whatever was troubling him with Wheeljack, the Wrecker would not address his flighty behavior. It had been noted, it had been dismissed as not an issue unless Max chose to make it an issue.

Eventually, they moved on, coming up to a small gate. Wheeljack regarded the two guards manning it with bemusement. What rotten weather to be stuck out here. Like last time, Wheeljack waited for Max to handle the guards, ignoring whatever words were being exchanged. It was doubtful he could even hear anything this time, the rain drowning out the sound. He did give a friendly flash of his headlights when the guard waved. Primus, the humans here really did seem to do that a lot whenever they saw him.

Then it was down onto the flat, scarred surface of the firing range. It was a lot brighter than Wheeljack was expecting, the powerful floodlights lighting the area. In the distance, the Wrecker listened to the crack of gunfire and artillery. He was becoming rather uncertain what was so special about this hour, given that so much activity was still going on out here.

Again, Wheeljack waited when Max went still. He could, of course, transform before the big mech as they had in fact reached their destination. Right now though, he wasn't certain how Fort Max would react to that. So keeping with the whole non-threatening schtick he had going this whole drive, he only transformed several long seconds after Max had gained his full height.

Wheeljack drove one pede through the mud to check the warden's assessment. Yup, the rain had transformed the dry dusty arena into sludge. He eyed the pools of water filling the craters with unbothered shrug. Well. What could you do?

The Wrecker flexed his arms before settling himself into a defensive combat stance. His battle mask slid up. He had a feeling he was going to be needing it and that every inch of his armor was about to get put through its paces.

"Well," Wheeljack said easily. "Let's find out."

[Deleted]

With a distracted air Maximus lifted one of his hands and held it beneath the rain. He turned it back and forth to watch the water seep from the joints of his heavy knuckles, his brow furrowed.

"Hm." He shook his hand out and turned to the Wrecker. "Yeah. All right."

Maximus slid his feet through the mud and lowered himself into a combat stance, his knees bent and his hands raised. Rain pelted against his armoured shoulders, hard enough to raise a misty halo around his frame. It trickled and guttered through his plating, across his face, and wound down his legs. He barely acknowledged it, not even to blink rain from his optics. His gaze was intently fixed upon Wheeljack, and Wheeljack alone.

There was no audience to watch them this time. Aside from the distant thud of guns firing they were alone in the dark and the rain. Maximus was a statue, still and stone-faced. The comraderie that marked their last spar was gone. The warden's red optics were like banked coals beneath the shadow of his helm, his expression cold.

Maximus tensed.

Mud splashed as he charged straight for the Wrecker, spattering his legs. His feet left deep footprints behind him as he coiled and leapt into flight, dragging an arc of mud into the air behind him.

In midair the big mech wheeled his arms, using his fists to gather power and momentum into his attack. He spun through a full turn and swung one leg up and around, the other tucked close. He thundered to earth, arms back and his his heel plummeting down in vicious axe kicked aimed squarely for Wheeljack's head.

[Deleted]

Wheeljack wasn't unduly worried about the mud. He'd fought on worse battlefields than these, with the gore piled knee high as he struggled his way through combat. The mud here was slick, made the ground slippery but it wouldn't cling to a mech and bog them down.

This was important because the Wrecker knew that he needed to be quick and agile for this fight, more so than usual. Fort Max seemed distracted and Wheeljack had a feeling the big mech wasn't going to remember that this was a friendly spar. This was made clear when the warden charged forward, then leapt, a powerful kick aimed right at Wheeljack's head. The blow would be brutal if it was allowed to land…

Wheeljack exploded into motion. He charged forward, not a dodge to the side or backwards. The Wrecker decided to work with the slippery terrain, not against it. Where Fort Max had jumped high, Wheeljack decided to go low. He bent one knee down, the other leg stretching forward as he slid underneath the big mech, flattening himself against the ground as much as possible. Mud slicked up the Wrecker's side as he aquaplaned but as soon as he was past, Wheeljack sprang nimbly to his pedes.

The Wrecker whirled round, facing the warden's back. He almost followed up with an attack but checked himself at the last moment, recalling the last time he'd tried such a tactics. Unlike last time, this wasn't a friendly spar and Wheeljack didn't think he'd be able to pull off the same moves twice to allow himself to escape.

Warily, Wheeljack stepped to the left, circling and waiting to see what Max would do next.

[Deleted]

Maximus slammed into the ground just as Wheeljack skidded clear. The impact sent out tremors the Wrecker would be able to feel through his frame.

He hit hard, landing in a crouch on both feet, one leg bent and the other extended with his fingertips dotted against the ground for balance. Mud splashed over his plating, over the filthy tank treads that jutted over his shoulders and fanned out from his lower back. It was good that Wheeljack hadn't struck while he was turned - the same treads protected much of Maximus' back from attack.

Already the big mech was hunting for his target. He pivoted and caught sight of Wheeljack circling around him. His red optics narrowed into slits, glaring through the rain.

In an instant he lunged again. One fist lashed out in a swinging backhand at Wheeljack's head while the other swiftly followed it in a balled-up punch that targeted the Wrecker's flank.

And then, Maximus began to speak.

"What do you think," he said, grunting from the exertion of his strike, "of the Autobot base?"

[Deleted]

Wheeljack met the fist aimed for his head with one of his own. Not to match Maximus strength for strength but to divert it, his fist slipping up to meet the inside of Max's wrist in order to prevent it from hitting Wheeljack's head. That fist become a hand as Wheeljack gripped Max's arm, lifting the pede closest to Max's other fist. Quickly, he used that hand as a foothold and, in combination with his grip, he pushed himself up for a kick at Max's chest with his other pede.

The Wrecker landed low, knees spread and mud sloshing over his pedes. He barely stopped for an instant, weaving to the side and resuming the circling. He quirked an optic ridge at the question.

"I think a lot of things about the Autobot base," Wheeljack answered honestly, an amused edge to his voice. "Few of them flattering. Though that might simply be because Optimus is in charge and I have, well, an extremely personal grievance with him."

Leaving Magnus in charge of the Wreckers.

Bulkhead.