Ep. 1 - A Rook and a Hard Place - Closed

[Deleted]

Over the radio, Lancer chuckled.

"I just heard the racket now," he said. "Don't worry about me getting away. As soon as their backs are turned I'll disappear. Oh shit, there goes the boat...!"

Oh shit, was right.

As soon as Rook's foot hit the blue car it skidded on all four tires and rammed into the rickety support structure for the boat. Immediately the boat swayed from the impact; already a big and top-heavy cruiser, it lurched alarmingly on its rusting trailer, which protested with a chorus of rusty creaks.

Years spent baking in the desert sun had dried out the straps that fixed in in place. Now they strained against the sudden load. The boat rocked, and the straps withered and snapped. In slow motion the boat keeled over, then began a slow and magnificent collapse onto the car next to it.

The smash rang across the yard. Boat and car crumpled together, and a cloud of dust erupted into the air. Through it Rook would hear the astonished howls of the men. A moment later both of the tow truck drivers came running, along with a pack of hysterical rottweilers. The dogs milled about the wreckage and barked, while the men stood back and waved the hazy dust from their faces, coughing.

Behind them, a car could be seen driving nonchalantly towards the gate. It was not the red Civic that Rook had rescued from the parking garage however, but rusty green Tercel.

"I'm heading towards the gate now," said Lancer. "Ha! I wish I could have filmed that. Okay, through the gate and running for the desert. Just keep following the highway north, it's pretty empty a few clicks from here. I'll see you shortly behind the biggest damn boulder I can find."

The green car rolled through the gate. As soon as it hit the gravel side road it hunkered down and took off like a bat out of hell, dragging a cloud of dust behind it.

[Deleted]

Rook skid up to one of the corners of the yard, and perforce had to lose some speed once he was directly out of sight: while his alt-mode was low enough that the fence kept him from direct line-of-sight, if he sped away there was a chance the plume of dust he'd lift would not be missed in the middle of the cloud he'd created in the scrapyard proper. He watched Lancer (or so he hoped) race off like his tailpipe was on fire, and was in pursuit not a moment later. Gravel raked his undercarriage, but at the moment that was little more than a reminder that the footing might turn erratic.

Oh,he was going to be sore in the morning.

If anything, he grew even more keen of his surroundings at the moment. This, this was the time when things might go wrong in the worst of ways. Every sense and sensor cast out even as he raced to catch up with the Tercel. He wanted to be within touching range if (when) something went wrong. Call it when you got it, Lancer. Home's probably wanting to make sure you're alright personally, and I can drive home just as good as 'bridge to it if it comes to that.

Rook would infinitely rather Lancer got home to safety, a medic and some recharge and refueling, no matter what it took to get the mech to those. The Aero, after all, was fresh, armed and perfectly willing to go for round two, but that didn't mean he wasn't going to accelerate like a dusty gray demon to try and put his front fender up three meters back and one meter to the side of him.

[Deleted]

Lancer's reply came over his comm a moment later.

"I think I've got you behind me, about a mile back," he said. "There's no traffic here, so I'm gonna pull off-road and call for a bridge the moment I'm behind cover. You're a lot faster than I am - you should be able to catch up before the bridge fires. I'll try to time it to catch the both of us at once, with minimal exposure for the bridge."

Sure enough, further down the open stretch of highway another dust cloud had just burst to life. The green Tercel drove at the head of it, bumping and rocketing over the rough desert terrain. It slowed as its tires ripped through the hardpacked earth, and rocks clanged off its undercarriage.

Another voice rang through Rook's comm.

"Yo Rook, this is Aerialbot Air Raid," it said. "I gotcha on radar at flight level two-zero-zero here. I'm picking up some low-level traffic at your eight o'clock, thirty miles back - looks to be flying at one-point-two, maintaining altitude. I think it's a helicopter. It's not talking to anyone and it going north, parallel to your current heading. Doesn't seem to be trying to intercept you guys, though. I'll keep an eye on it."

[Deleted]

For a brief, startling moment, Rook felt a need to ask the Aerialbot if he was even speaking English. Long training, however, had taught him to think before he spoke. It wasn't long, but it was enough to decide that it might be a tad rude to ask that question of his aerial backup.

By the time he'd reached that conclusion he'd also figured out the basic gist of Air Raid's message. So, the MECHs might have send air backup after all. Just as well they were practically home clear.

Air Raid, it's good to know you're up there. Really, there was nothing else Rook felt safe saying, though he did try to put some warmth into it. Or at least not sound... puzzled. Primus knew if he'd managed either.

He put on further speed; odds were every single speedtrap and idling cop had gone into town or were heading that way, leaving no one to track his speed or ticket him accordingly. His next communication went to 'Lancer' as he chased into the other 'Bot's dust trail, ignoring the sting of rocks and dirt against his undercarriage and the returning, low-level diagnostic damage warnings. Fire it up, 'Lancer'. Eyes on the sky have an airborne tail trying to catch up to us, and I really don't want to have to deal with that one. That would be a lot of paperwork.

He kept his senses and his sensors open, unwilling by dint of long experience and hard knocks that something, somehow, wouldn't go wrong even at the last minute and with everything looking clear. Of course, a lot could have gone wrong already that he didn't know about, but that was for later, once he could sit somewhere quietly and peel asphalt off of himself...

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Air Raid's radio chatter rang in and out of the background. It was typical of many fliers, for whom situational awareness between individuals and elements over the radio was more crucial than it was on the ground.

"Still got your bandit, twelve hundred feet, steering three-three-zero," he said. "Negative on the aircraft type. Crazy helicopters. Ah, it's veering zero-six-zero, just picked up ten knots - looks like it's moving to intercept. Welp, I think I'll put a stop to that."

Lancer cut in shortly after that.

"Rook, I've just slid down a light incline, got a bit of shelter here behind a rock shelf," he said. "It should be a few hundred feet in front of you, at your one o'clock. I'm calling for the ground bridge. Air Raid, how far back is that helicopter?"

"Keep your wheel pants on, it's still twenty miles back. It shouldn't have a visual on you yet. I'm descending to three grand to engage. I'm gonna scare the crap outta this guy."

Ahead of Rook was a gentle escarpment, where the hard-packed earth trailed over a short drop of layered rock into a sandy basin, partly sheltered by a tall stone outcropping. A cloud of light dust hung in the air over it, and a set of tire tracks skidded through the light soil before disappearing the edge. Beneath the drop crouched the green Tercel, hunkered over all four tires behind the outcrop, its engine idling.

A moment later a green portal burst into life just beyond the drop, swirling with energy.

[Deleted]

Some part of Rook, in listening to the entirely alien language the Aerialbot was speaking, was vaguely insulted that 'Lancer' seemed to know exactly what Air Raid was saying, and was capable of replying in the same easy fashion.

Most of him was just very confused. All of him was overall very relieved that things were turning to some degree of chaos, however small. Chaos was normal, chaos was expected. Chaos was how you knew things were going your way, inasmuch as they could. Tail incoming, yes. Package almost-but-not-quite home, yes. Eyes on the sky, yes. This all was reassuring, in its own entirely non-reassuring fashion.

No unnecessary risks, guys, please. We're almost home, and no one's bleeding; I think that's the best way to show up at a medic's doorstep when you know he's waiting right on the other side, yes?

Word of an incline gave Rook a moment's pause. Many things his alt-mode was, but able to deal well with sudden angles found in nature was not one of them. The undercarriage was too low, too close to the ground; good for stability at high speed, not so much for hard dirt, sand and gravel on a slope.

He was not, however, about to lose speed so close to making a clean getaway. He locked his front wheels against the incline and drifted, a plume of sand rising up and the angle of the tires shifting flawlessly as he took the slop down sideways, rather than nose-first. He still felt the shale scrape his underside, but not nearly as bad as it could have gone, and by the time he noticed he was already down on the lee of the stone, out of immediate sight and facing the road home.

And everyone was still alive. Apparently he could reverse his usual mission parameters without being too shabby at it. Good to know.

"So." His voice utterly casual, he winked his lights at the battered green Tercel. "Ready to head home, or should we hang out? Me, I'm surely a fan of dust up where it never belonged, aren't you?"

[Deleted]

The Tercel jumped off all four tires in surprise.

"There you are!" it said. It spoke aloud this time, its voice relieved. "Oh man, am I glad to see you. I'm running on fumes, I've got more dust in me than I know what to do with, and I'm pretty sure that squirrel I hit in West Virginia is still lodged up a wheel well. I am officially ready to get the heck out of here. Ratchet is waiting on the other side - let's not keep him waiting!"

With that, the green car waved its side mirrors at Rook and peeled out, its tires spinning on the loose dirt as it swung through a dusty circle. It straightened out and shot straight for the ground bridge, where it vanished inside the portal with one last flash of its tail lights.

Over his comm, Rook would hear one last whoop from the Aerialbot.

"How do you like that, creep? Eat my wake turbulence. That's right, you'd better turn around!"

[Deleted]

I'm pretty sure that squirrel I hit in West Virginia is still lodged up a wheel well.

For a moment Rook didn't even know how to react to that, beyond a mental 'Gross' that he deemed was best kept to himself. Watching 'Lancer' vanish into the groundbridge, he felt all the stress that had come down on his shoulders when he'd been dispatched on the mission fade away.

Immediately, he felt the bite and sting of gravel scrapes, asphalt splashes and tiny shrapnel shards. He wanted the longest wash ever; he wanted time alone in his quarters to dig unwanted bits out, and then maybe a good, long drive from nowhere to anywhere until his next shift came up.

Air Raid, we're home-bound. Carefully, Rook measured his next words. If ever you need a nose to the ground, I'm happy to provide. See you on the other side.

He rumbled for the 'bridge. His mind was flicking through his report and, more importantly, over what he'd learned of these MECHs. He didn't like half of what he'd found out, and he liked even less that he didn't know enough. That would have to change.

Even as he felt the shift and twist of one place becoming another, and the heat of open desert turning into the cool dimness of their underground base, he asked out loud. "So, what's your real name?"

[Deleted]

"Right now, his name is Mud," growled Ratchet.

The control room of the Autobot base swirled into life on the other side of the ground bridge, warm and dimly lit and inviting. Behind Rook the portal quietly irised out, taking the green light with it.

In front of him, the old Tercel was nowhere to be seen. Instead, Ratchet braced up a strange blue and grey robot. The big medic had a firm grip on the stranger by the scruff of his neck, where his dusty blue armour met the rear mesh of his throat guard. The stranger hung limply from his grasp, exhausted.

Ratchet's gaze was steely as he gave the robot a shake.

"What did I say about someone with your condition running himself down to fumes?" he said.

"That he shouldn't run himself down to fumes."

"And what did you just do for the entire duration of your leg back from Washington?"

The blue robot giggled, as if he were drunk on relief.

"Everything you told me not to?" he said. "To be fair, MECH didn't really leave me with an alternative."

Ratchet snorted.

Over by the monitors, Optimus Prime softly cleared his throat. He stood apart from the others, removed from the scene to give the busy control room space, his arms folded, a calm and commanding presence.

"This is one of our operatives, Wash," he said. He spoke to Rook directly, while in the background Ratchet continued to scold his patient. "He was on assignment in Washington, D.C., when he was uncovered by MECH. Thank you for bringing him back safely. We feared he would be isolated and taken prisoner, or worse. Do you require any medical aid yourself before turning in a report?"

[Deleted]

Oh, Primus, medic on the warpath.

Welp, that was well above and beyond what Rook was willing to do for a fellow 'Bot. Decepticons, check, armed hunting humans, sure, but medics were all on a class of their own and he really didn't want to draw that particular kind of attention to himself. Still...

"I'd be careful how you shake him, doc." The Aero rose to his feet smoothly, dusty and spattered here and there with the faint tracery of the work done. "There's a squirrel up in a wheel well somewhere, and it's probably none too fresh."

He gave the Prime his full attention, moving aside as well. You never knew when someone was going to call for a 'bridge in a hurry, and just about every other 'Bot in the base would have trampled Rook with a fair degree of ease. "Nothing a wash and some picking around won't fix, sir. Best the doc focuses on the patient he's already got."

His voice dropped to a quieter note. "I don't much care for these MECHs, sir. They had sound tactics; they had numbers, equipment, and the right attitude for what they were trying to do. Cons wouldn't have made a cleaner go of this." Paradoxically, there was no higher compliment Rook could have offered, for all that it was meant as an insult. "They even had air support lined up when things went slagged for them on the ground, if you'll pardon my language. I hope we've got more on them than dust and bad memories."

[Deleted]

Optimus carefully ran his gaze over the inside of the control room. But aside from Ratchet and Wash, they were alone. The control room was empty, blissfully void of its usual activity. Even the children were absent. Nonetheless, he lowered his voice to match Rook's.

"Unfortunately, our present intelligence amounts to little more than that," he said. "Even Agent Fowler can only tell us that they are an organization working in clear opposition to his country's government. Of their directives, the only one that is clear to us is that they seek Cybertronian technology for their own aims. Beyond that, their objectives are a mystery."

He frowned. "We have encountered them twice already, once while assisting Agent Fowler in transporting nuclear material, and then again in the Kamchatka Peninsula. They had taken the Decepticon Breakdown prisoner and sought to dismantle him. On both occasions MECH revealed itself to be equipped, organized, and capable of inflicting damage upon both Autobots and Decepticons alike. Thus far they have shown themselves to be nothing but hostile against our kind, and as such we must consider their future intentions against us to be antagonistic in turn."

Grimly, Optimus regarded Ratchet and his patient for a moment in silence. The medic was prodding the cuff of Wash's armour, where the scarred blue chest plating met the layer of grey mesh around his throat. Wash had his hands in the air and spoke earnestly.

"So far, you have had the most prolonged contact with their ground forces in Nevada," he said. "It troubles me to learn they have sophisticated tactics in place to track and ambush us so close to our base. I believe you are correct in saying that in this, they outstrip the capabilities of the Decepticons, who typically display none such organization or subtly. Will you document what opposition from MECH you encountered today? It is my hope that from your report we might develop operational procedures that will help prevent any of our Autobots on the ground and in disguise from becoming drawn into such a trap as Wash was again."

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Rook stared at nothing at all, optics vaguely on the irate medic and his sheepish patient. Personally he figured half of whatever may ail Wash would be made right by a long wash and a longer rest.

Most of his attention was on the Prime's words, mouth closed into a thin line. This was as bad as it got: a capable and well-equipped enemy they were tackling on the field, practically blind. It cost blood, and life, to catch up to that kind of problem. He was sure as Pit not going to be going out again without a couple of surprises under his seats if he could help it.

"You'll have my report, and my impressions, soon as I can put them down on a 'pad for you, sir." Though it was likely to be a shot-himself-in-the-foot kind of moment, he added. "I don't think it'd be good for anyone to be going out alone if they're going long-range. You can call for a 'bridge for 'Cons, but I don't think it'd be so safe to let these guys know about that bit of tech."

He'd just have to get cleverer on how he snuck out of the Base to stretch his wheels over a good empty stretch of road. But then again, that was nothing new.

"I'll be going unless you need someone else brought in to the doc's tender mercies, boss." Rook offered the words in an attempt to find some less awkward way to phrase his next question. Bonds, social bonds of any kind, were not his thing, and he had next to zero idea as to how to handle them. He didn't want to sound like he doubted Ratchet, or like he was prying... Which meant he didn't know how to ask, other than to just... ask. "Is Wash going to be alright?"

Oh, yes, surely not awkward at all.

[Deleted]

Optimus inclined his head in gratitude for the concern for a fellow Autobot, however it was expressed.

"He will be," he said. "With rest. This has occurred before, I'm afraid. If not for your intervention, I fear that this time he would have been killed - one way or another."

The Prime glanced at Ratchet, who by then was brusquely ushering Wash from the control room. When their footsteps clanked off down the hall he looked back at Rook, his expression grim.

"I believe your suggestion regarding our future movements outside of the base is well worth taking into consideration," he said. "I will speak to Arcee about it. I suspect that she will also recommend implementing a suspension of single-Autobot patrols for the rest of the month, or for however long it takes to ascertain the full extent of the threat that MECH represents. This most recent incident has proven the danger in travelling alone. But it has also shown me that we can rely on one another for backup when it is needed."

Optimus paused. He gave Rook a knowing look, and amusement lightly coloured his voice when he added, "Rest assured when I say it will be a temporary suspension. In the meantime, get rest and a refuel as necessary. I will await your report. If you can think of any further recommendations based on your observance of MECH tactics today, please include them within it. I know Arcee will appreciate any feedback you can offer, and will likely wish to approach you should we find ourselves forced to make a move against MECH at some point in the near future."

[Deleted]

One way or another.

Because that was surely not grim at all. And weighted with a meaning Rook marked without his expression shifting. He'd missed something; something about Wash (who would likely be 'Lancer' regardless whenever the Aero felt like names might be risky... or when he thought Wash might need a bit of ribbing.) One way or another was the kind of thing you said when those two ways were all that was left.

He hesitated a bit as the Prime spoke. The praise might have made another mech straight with pride, pleased with approval; it made Rook vaguely nervous to be so pointedly noticed, and he knew it was stupid of him. It was a throwback to his being a spook, which did not apply under the current circumstances, but still that ripple of nervousness tickled along his spine. And yet, to know he'd been of use to the Prime, to the cause, that he'd made headway, however small, against an enemy - now that was a feeling he could allow himself, and Rook smiled a bit, optics brightening by the merest fraction.

And promptly deflated when Optimus' following words made it amply clear his shenanigans outside the base had been noticed easily. Well, he hadn't expected to get away clear all of the time, but really, was it common knowledge? Or was it just a guess as to what was expected of him, a shot in the dark from the big guy? He couldn't tell... and so, went into a minor nervous shuffle. Paranoia, my old friend, welcome back, he thought in resignation.

He had so much to think on already. Without staff elsewhere to digest the intel and give him gists, Rook found his own mind busy doing the same work; MECH was foremost in his concerns, but now so was Wash, and the possibility that he had to sharpen his skills. Restricted to base just meant he’d have to work harder on getting out, after all. It was either that or start putting realistic bug stickers on every camera he could find. His mind went all odd on him when he was pinned to one spot without work to do.

He gave his Prime a fairly relaxed salute that wasn’t quite a wave. “I’ll get to work on that report, sir. And I’m game for round two whenever you or Arcee want me to roll in.” He turned for the hallway, looking for a good wash before he got started, though he was already organizing the whole thing in his head. Besides, he thought, gingerly running a hand over the splintery pain of the bullet shrapnel in his armor, got a few bits and pieces to give them back next chance I get.

FINIS

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(( Thank you for game, Moon! That was tremendously fun. And thank you for an awesome closing post <3 ))