[ti]Ep 3[/ti]Fishing for Piranha [Megatron/Open]

[Sparkplug]

Episode 3 | Week 2 | Day 1

The worst thing about having a completed chassis mod was not having any mecha to try it. A beautiful, compact unit of elegantly engineered destruction was sat on one of Sparkplug's work benches - just sat there - doing nothing, going nowhere, and certainly not wrecking anything. It was a waste, it was an insult to the mechanism to do nothing with it.

So what Sparkplug needed - all that she needed - was a volunteer.

How hard could that be? The vehicons were all much of a likeness, so surely some of them were interested in upgrading their chassis to be a bit more distinctive. She could even throw in a custom paint job, and what could be fairer than that?

::Sparklabs to Blackridge. Bridge for one, at your convenience::

::Signal acknowledged. With the bridge currently occupied, please await queue clearance::

The radio comms robbed the voice of any individuality, smothering the little details beneath the crackle of static, but there was an edge of boredom to the words. Not a bad place to start. Surely any mech stuck with pulling levers all day would welcome a little bit of excitement?

And what was chassis upgrade surgery if not exciting?

Drumming her fingers against her calf, Sparkplug waited as the minutes ticked by. Then, with a rumbling growl of tormented energies, the alcove set aside for bridge operation tore open in a blaze of unreality. A beautiful magic trick, hoodwinking the laws of physics; it never failed to inspire. Dropping smoothly onto her wheels, Sparkplug shot through the tunnel of light, skidding neatly to a stop as her tyres hit stone once more. The bridge hummed and sang to itself behind her, then collapsed in a final flare of pyrotechnics.

On most visits, Sparkplug would have stepped out into the base's corridors, with little more than a nod and a wave of acknowledgement to the vehicon operating the controls. But not today! This time, Sparkplug strolled over to the console and leant on the corner of it, nodding amiably at the trooper stood there.

"Thanks, that was helpful. Pretty darn useful. Can't imagine how tedious it'd be trying to get from place to place across this planet otherwise."

The vehicon blinked at her, his visor dimming then glowing again. There was a little crack in one corner of it, she noticed. "Good afternoon, and welcome to Blackridge Hold. Official statistics put the circumference of the planet at forty thousand klicks, with no continuous landmass - a true inconvenience for vehicle-based transport," he announced. "Will another activation of the bridge be required at this time? Over to you."

It was Sparkplug's turn to blink, with a little clack of spiral shutters. There was an oddly recognisable note to the vehicon's voice, one she couldn't place. "Nope, no more bridge. Not right now, anyway; maybe later. You real busy down here?"

"As of today, records show there has been a below average volume of bridge requests - good for the machinery, experts say. With little traffic between nodes that are not already programmed into the bridge system, a steady hand on the lever is all that is required."

"Yeah? Guess you must be pretty bored." She waved away his instinctive gesture of denial, shaking her helm and lowering her voice conspiratorially. "C'mon now, I'm not the kind who runs around making lists of things to snitch about. Got to be driving you out of your processor, right? What's your name, anyway?"

The vehicon paused, his fingers curling around the edge of the console as he thought, the glow of his visor shifting from side to side in a little glance around. "Statistically, demands on mental activity remain at historic lows. It remains to be seen whether this state of affairs continues. You're watching NRW-176."

"You never know your luck. Maybe something more interesting will come along!" Sparkplug suggested brightly. "I'm Sparkplug, by the way."

"Research officer Sparkplug, an expert in the field of weapons design and repair," agreed NRW-176. "Full briefings on personnel are essential reading." Leaning forward slightly, he gave her a look that somehow managed to read as inquisitive. "Will you answer a question? As always, it's down to you."

Sparkplug cocked her helm. "A question? Sure, ask me anything," she replied, trying to put him at ease. Her gaze tracked thoughtfully over his chassis. Aside from the visor crack, and some minor dings and dents, he looked in good shape. Definitely should be compatible.

"Witnesses have yet to locate superior Blackframe. Do you have any sightings to report?"

At the mention of the name, Sparkplug pulled a face. "Oh, him. That two-toned screeching psycho. No, haven't seen him." She paused, her head still full of schematics and sheer-lines, then shook herself. "Wait. What do you mean, no one's seen him?"

NRW-176 straightened up, with a doleful shake of his helm. "Superior Blackframe traversed this system over four planetary day cycles ago, and yet, no further signals have been received, and routine signals have not been acknowledged. Odds continue to mount that in the day cycles to come, tragic news will be reported."

A prickling ran down Sparkplug's spinal strut. Put aside the fact that she couldn't stand the mech; something was not right here. "He's not logged as being out on a long mission or anything? He hasn't sent any 'being attacked' transmissions?"

"According to our sources, Superior Blackframe is not logged out on any mission. With no signals received of any kind, the fate of this lone Decepticon is currently uncertain."

"So he left, wasn't expected to be gone long, then just... dropped off the grid. No signals out, no responses - guessing we can't track his location either?"

"With a signal strength of zero, it appears-" the vehicon began, then stopped as she held up a hand, taking a half-step backwards.

"If he'd run into a fight, he'd have signalled. Even if it was 'Oh Primus' he'd have sent something before getting taken out. But that doesn't account for-" jamming. The memory of the attack in the desert was very recent; the swarms of targeting drones, the electrical missiles, the explosive attack that could have blown her whole chassis into scraplet snacks. And the very thorough, pre-emptive jamming of all signals before the attack even begun.

"Reports indicate a misdriven vehicle of local law enforcement near to the last known coordinates of Superior Blackframe, shortly after drop-off," NRW-176 remarked cautiously, as if reading her processor. "No further updates from indigenous news at this time. We'll keep you posted."

"Those festering, scuttling little swarm-maggots wouldn't have the nerve," she breathed, while the slow-growing conviction bloomed within her that they most certainly would. "If you hear anything, let me know right away, alright?"

The vehicon steepled his hands on top of the console, nodding. "With the latest directive from our viewers implemented, there is little more we can do than wait. This is NRW-176, wishing you a good day."

Nodding with a brief, worried smile, Sparkplug stepped back and out into the hallways.

Okay. Who needed to know about this? The obvious answer was Commander Soundwave, but if any mech already knew, it would have to be him. So... why hadn't something happened? Was it just that she didn't know, and there were mecha already seeking Blackframe out?

Except the vehicons would probably know; certainly, the ones manning the bridge would see that kind of traffic. And NRW-176 sure hadn't.

Air-Commander Starscream, then. She didn't know where Commander Soundwave actually was - trying to guess at his movements was a fool's game at the best of times - but she could just casually walk past the Air-Commander's quarters and stop in for a quick, quick little check that some mecha was doing something about one of their own vanishing into thin air. He was a considerate mech that checked in on those under his command; he'd know, one way or the other.

She was most of the way through Blackridge's labyrinthine tunnels, turning the problem over and over in the depths of her processor, before she suddenly remembered something: Air-Commander Starscream wasn't in the quarters she was heading towards, not anymore. He'd been moved when the Warlord came back.

Rust and grit! Focus! Okay, he would probably still be quartered somewhere in the area. She just had to search a bit more thoroughly. She turned around, intending to head back towards the start of the section, and begin checking the turnings she'd walked past already.

And there was Megatron, a walking tower of bitterly impenetrable alloys and malice, heading straight down the corridor towards her.

Primus's chrome-plated exhaust vent!

If she said nothing, and she couldn't find Starscream - he was off out of the base, doing things she wasn't privy to or something - then she'd have to come back here. And then he'd ask why she hadn't just said something when she had the chance. That could be trouble. On the other hand, annoying him with trivia could also be trouble.

Her spectacular internal directory of cursing offered up a weary, oh, fuck.

Sparkplug straightened to attention, lifting her helm to catch the behemoth's gaze. He hates insubordination. Respectful, to the point, do not ramble. Go.

"Your pardon, my Lord," she began. "Blackframe - the mech who did not attend your briefing? - is missing. Has been for four day-cycles. No mission logged, no communications, no beacon. I suspect MECH involvement."

[Deleted]

Megatron had been moving from his personal quarters back towards the main hall when his thoughts had been interrupted.

His attention pulled from his own thoughts down to focus on a small femme, rolling to a stop. She stood before him, making direct eye contact, and was speaking.

Megatron paused for a moment to recollect her name. He really hadn’t much contact with her other than the meeting in his quarters with the others. At first, he wondered why she was bringing this information to him instead of Soundwave or Starscream. But he decided to let it pass, curious as to her thoughts.

Megatron set his peds, letting both arms fall easily to his sides, large clawed hands relaxed.

“Oh?” he asked, “I see. Blackframe, is it? I did not fail to notice one had neither attended nor given an acceptable reason for their absence. Not a good way to start.

Sparkplug, is it? Tell me, how have you come by this information, regarding his being missing for four-day cycles, and why do you suspect MECH? We are at war. Some Autobots would not hesitate to attack or destroy a Decepticon caught alone or off-guard.”

[Sparkplug]

Sparkplug wasn't fidgeting, nor restlessly tangling her fingers together, but that was solely because her chassis was in the ferocious, slightly-petrified grip of her main processor, and staying very rigidly at attention seemed like the best way to survive a chat with the atrocity vending machine that towered over her.

All the same... the gigantic mech's body language was relatively relaxed, and he didn't seem particularly perturbed by having been interrupted. It wasn't comfortable being the focus of those smouldering red optics, but he wasn't taking the time to loom over her and make her feel even smaller than she already did.

And his tone was... quite civil? A simple request for clarification? Inwardly, Sparkplug cautiously adjusted her expectations of the mech upwards a notch.

"Sparkplug, yes, my Lord. Research officer. I've been through a MECH attack before, and their tactics were to blanket the area with comms jamming before they made any overt moves, then move in with drone swarms for targeting purposes, electrical projectiles to short out systems and render unconsciousness, falling back to explosive missiles for particular threats." She flashed a nervous smile, and added, "I earned a missile. They did not like what I had to offer. Anyway."

Careful. Be concise, but thorough. Build your case. No asides. "According to the vehicons operating the bridge, Blackframe left four day-cycles ago, and was trackable via news reports of the native species until they suddenly had no more to say, the same day. No contact, no replies, no locator beacon, no logged mission. I concede it's possible he was taken out in a single surprise shot by an Autobot, but the complete lack of comms about being attacked leads more towards MECH tactics. In addition, even if he was taken by an Autobot, presuming they did not haul his deactivated frame home with them, that leaves a carcass for MECH to scavenge."

A low surge of remembered anger leaked into her field as she recalled, all too-vividly, the moment that it had dawned on her the natives could pose an actual threat. How dare they?

Lifting her helm, she looked up higher, meeting his gaze. "My Lord, I don't like Blackframe, and if you screwed his helm off right in front of me like a twist-off bottle cap, I wouldn't be the least bit saddened. But I don't want to see this planet's seething, crawling little corpse maggots using his technology and biology to try to gain an advantage over us. I don't want to see his Decepticon brand on some half-formed, mutant lump of native tech; it's an insult. They need to learn, like every other civ that ever tried to get into the middle of our war, that to tangle with Cybertronians is to be ground to pieces between two walls of steel. That is why I recommend finding out what became of him."

[Deleted]

“A stick!”

Flamesnort groaned in mock disgust and looked away from the vehicon to hide his broad grin. But only for a moment. “You, sir, are worse than GEF. Please never change.”

Flamesnort had been spending a lot of time with the vehicon troops, usually in the energon mines like today. They were as varied as any bunch of clones with loose quality controls, possibly moreso. He liked them. He was still getting to know them all, learn their names and quirks, and for Flamesnort it was a long process often fraught with mistakes.

MYK-367 and Flamesnort casually strolled into the control room only to stop short at the sight of their leader and judging by the small white frame, Sparkplug, friend to Vega.

“Carry on MYK, I’m going in.” As the vehicon carried on through the control room, skirting the edges and staying out of the way, Flamesnort took a few steps forward and paused to listen. It wasn't eavesdropping in such a public place he thought. But every word from the little femme emboldened him. He viewed humanity - squishies - as vermin and shared Sparkplug’s sentiment, though she seemed to be more eloquent in her distaste.

Flamesnort approached Megatron and Sparkplug, dipping his head in respect to each. “My Lord! Sparkplug. If I may be so impertinent, I agree with Sparkplug’s sentiment, though she is far more articulate than I could ever be. MECH appears to be a splinter faction of the squishies, the sooner we act to exterminate them, the less we need expend on their infestation.”

[Deleted]

Megatron turned his attention from the much smaller femme, to the newcomer. Flamesnort, he believed he was called. There was a moment’s lull in the conversation as the warlord silently looked over the reptilian mech before him, as if reacquainting himself with the other’s frame.

Megatron raised both arms, crossing them before his chest as he turned his attention back from Flamesnort to Sparkplug, and then back again.

“I am quite familiar with MECH. They are, as you say, a “splinter faction” of the humans. Normally, I would not consider them worth concerning myself with. The combined weight of the technology of all the humans put together amount to little more than some of the earliest natives within Cybertron’s system.

However, these individuals have brazenly set themselves the task of seeking out our technology and attempting to use it against us.

For that, alone, they will be dealt with, severely.”

Megatron shifted his weight, letting his arms fall to his sides again, “However, that does not mean I am willing to sacrifice my Decepticons to confronting them in a head long assault simply because one mech may or may not have fallen victim to them.

If Blackframe allowed himself to lower his guard and fall prey to the attack of a few organic individuals....perhaps he was not fit to join my ranks. As I have said.....we have been aware of MECH for a while now....if this Blackframe were blindsided....”

There was a pause.

“If the Autobots destroyed Blackframe, they would not leave his corpse for MECH to acquire. Optimus is far too...honourable...for that. He is as aware of the situation regarding MECH as I am. Just as I would not allow an Autobot to fall into MECH’s hands, dead or alive. We are Cybertronians. I will not allow a subsect of humans to crawl over the remains of my enemy to scavenge their frames like carrionworms, and neither would Optimus. That is one thing we agree on.”

Megatron raised his hands, resting them on his hips, “I will have Soundwave give instructions to the Vehicons and Seekers to keep an optic out for this Blackframe, as you have now piqued my curiosity as to his whereabouts. Should he return, I will demand answers as to his unexplained absence.”

[Sparkplug]

Sparkplug blinked at the interruption, so focused on the looming monolith of the Warlord that she hadn't noticed Flamesnort moving up beside them. He seemed to be a little out of the loop on MECH matters, but he at least understood who they were. More mecha on the job definitely equalled more safety; she hadn't forgotten the Autobot mech keeling over with a harpoon in his back with zero warning, and if he'd been alone, it'd have all been over that fast.

As she'd thought, the insult angle she'd taken rather than the threat they posed seemed to be the lever to pull on; Megatron was apparently moved more by the impudence of MECH's goals than their likelihood of achieving them. He was right to question whether the Autobots would leave a corpse lying around to scavenge, too; she'd wondered that herself, but she'd been trying to build a case, so she'd glossed over it. Presumably both sides now knew the fallen weren't to be left where they lay, not when their husks could be weaponised against them.

Alright. Bottom line. Searching for Blackframe was workable, and they'd get some mecha on it. Directly attacking MECH on the off-chance that Blackframe was an idiot and was holed up in a hangar somewhere was off the table. Although it wasn't as though they even had a MECH location to go raid, not that she knew of. Still... one step at a time. If the Autobots dropped off his carcass, that would solve a lot of problems.

In the end, she'd raised the issue, the Warlord had heard what she had to say, and that was that. Now was the perfect time to walk away, secure in the knowledge that she'd done her part. And she didn't like Blackframe, so putting her aft on the line for him was definitely not something she felt motivated to do.

And yet, and yet.

Some inner stubbornness, whether aimed at ruining MECH's day or even for the ghostly sense of being on the same team that she shared even with a pain in the tailpipe like Blackframe, prompted her to speak.

"Understood, my Lord, thanks. Do you mind if I take Flamesnort here out and have a poke about myself? I've got some precautions in mind that'll help deal with these uppity scuttlers if they're around, and if I find anything that hints at a heavy presence, I'll bug out and report back."

If he denied her permission... well, then she could go home with a clean conscience and get on with things. But if not, it appeared she was about to go on a little road trip.

[Deleted]

“If I may add my lord, I am a skilled tracker, if there's a chance we can find this Blackframe’s last location, fair chance I would be able to discover if any injustice has befallen our comrade, if such be the case. Sooner the better too, the weather on this mudball...it destroys evidence of our passing.” Flamesnort shrugged lightly, a small movement but amplified by his quad-frame. “I would enjoy employing my talents if I am to be honest.” The draconian hunter had long before the war learned to be simple and upfront with his words, he had not the articulation to do much more anyway, but he had learnt some cunning. His last statement was an admission that his skills were not boasting, but instead simple desire to be useful, which made the actual boasting pass as mere factual statement.

But Flamesnort did consider the idea of the troopers merely being more open optic to be simply placating. Blackframe wore a disguise like most ‘Cons to hide amongst the humans. There were probably thousands of cars that looked the same on this landmass, he thought. If Blackframe were to appear in his root mode, well tracking would likely not be necessary given human news coverage. But that was all really idle contemplation.

One word rattling around in Flamesnort’s processor finally slapped his mind into a fresh gear, “Honorable”. Megatron had called Optimus honorable, though with some distaste, though perhaps it had been sarcasm though. He wanted to know more but he was not in the right situation to ask directly.It gnawed at the questions that had increasingly been plaguing him.

[Deleted]

Megatron's crimson optics moved from Sparkplug to Flamesnort, seemingly looking each other quietly for a moment, weighing his options.

If Blackframe had been captured, well, that was his loss. Any Decepticon that couldn't follow orders and remain in a group or with at least one other, deserved to be captured. It was more of an annoyance that anything else. If he had been taken by MECH, that was just one more weapon given into the hands of an enemy, another chance to study them, observe them, learn about their biology.

He was not pleased.

After a second, he shifted, and then spoke.

"I give my permission to both of you to search for any clues to Blackframe's whereabouts. But you will work together. Blackframe may have been taken unawares because he was too foolish to follow orders - you will not be so foolish.

Any information you locate, bring to me or Soundwave, so that I can decide what's to be done. And do not lax in your duties within Blackridge. You are still expected to pull your weight."

He gathered himself to push past them, moving on, "Unless you have something else you wish to ask?"

His tone made it apparent it was probably for the better if they didn't. He would only humour so much.

[Breakdown]

( Permission granted to drop in for a bit )

     Everything in Blackridge was different from the Nemesis, and it had been taking the bruiser a while to accumulate to it. Back on the warship, he would find himself tripping over things that were moved out of place around the medical bay to where Knock Out would make an effort to ensure things remained somewhere once he'd gotten used to it in that spot. Now everything that he had gotten used to since arriving on Earth and rendezvousing with the Decepticons was in disarray and his processor was having a much more difficult time with holding onto the new information. Maybe it was because it was too much at once? Or perhaps the virus he'd been infected with had some underlying lingering issue? Whether it was a temporary thing or something more permanent, it was something he would need to take heed of and sweep under the threshold as not to draw attention to it. 

     Now, however, he was lost. He had left the medical bay and had planned to return to he and Knock Out's personal quarters to collect something when...

     Had he gotten turned around? Made a wrong turn? Something. Whatever it was, he was trying desperately to figure it out. He turned off to the right and... ran into a different branch of the residential area which wasn't where he needed to be. After what seemed like forever he managed to find a corridor that looked familiar to him, but whether it was because he had been down it just moments ago or the day before was the question left to be answered. He'd need to ask Knock Out if he wanted to split quarters- for the first time since the early days of them working together- so that he could have a place closer to the exit of this area so he wouldn't get so lost as fast... at least until he learned this new layout. It may have meant a smaller living space, which the CMO may not agree to, so maybe with everything going on a separate room may be for the best...

     Breakdown was busy trying to figure out this walking situation when he heard voices- faint at first, through growing louder the more he went forward. If there were others this way, maybe he had finally found a way out of this would be maze? He'd already forgotten the way back so there was no other way to go anyway. He had started to round the corner and then picked up on the familiar gravel-chewing voice of their Leader and stopped in his steps to hunker back and stay out of sight. It was bad enough to run into Megatron on a good day. Looking like you were losing your sense in the middle of what sounded like a pretty heated conversation was quite another.

     The bruiser stood there, shoulder to the wall as he inadvertently listened to what he was able to pick up on. His interest peaked when he heard 'Blackframe' and 'MECH' in the same breath and he turned his helm slightly to direct both audials to the conversations. Two other voices were there with their Leader. One was... perhaps slightly recognized? Heard in passing perhaps, but he definitely hadn't heard the other before. That wasn't what he was interested in figuring out, though. The context of their discussion was what he was tuning into. Blackframe he knew, and the mech had made him uncomfortable in their previous encounter. Now he was missing? If MECH were involved, he could only imagine what may have been happening if his disappearance had been going on for longer than his own had. That is, if Blackframe hadn't decided to just up and abandon them on account of their current situation. It certainly would have been the first. Breakdown listened, taking in what was able to carry to his audials to save for later.

     Eventually the abrupt words of their Leader's hinted end to their conversation alerted him that he'd better get moving, and he rounded the corner as he had been planning to from the start before he'd caught himself. He moved down the corridor, keeping to the left side as to avoid making physical contact with any of them with his broad framed self. When he approached with a reasonable distance, he stepped sideways with his back now to the wall and lowered his gaze to the floor to avoid making optic contact with the Decepticon leader and tilted his head respectfully down.

     "Lord Megatron." Breakdown spoke with acknowledgement of his Leader's presence and nothing more, as all who were not foolish enough to challenge being offlined would do. With any luck the Warlord wouldn't even be bothered with his presence and would continue on as he was, and Breakdown could peacefully return to trying to find his quarters without too much further hassle. 

[Sparkplug]

The quad frame was a tracker? Sparkplug couldn't help but glance curiously at Flamesnort, wondering anew what exact purpose his unique morphology had been constructed for. Given his degree of ignorance about the way the Decepticon cause had degenerated, he almost certainly hadn't been rebuilt that way during the war, so there'd been a civilian application that apparently required tracking skills and an internal flamethrower. Finding out about that tagged itself onto the end of her list of things to do as she looked back towards the Warlord.

The annoyance on his heavy, brutally-hewn features was plain to see, but he didn't dismiss the matter out of hand. His words were sensible and proportionate, and again, Sparkplug found herself wondering if she'd misjudged him slightly. Nodding quickly as he turned to depart, Sparkplug replied hastily, "Nothing else, my Lord, thank you for your time and consideration. We'll get right on it."

She was just beginning to relax, turning towards Flamesnort, when another mech stopped beside them, bowing his head respectfully to the massive silver and purple form of their leader.

"...huh. What d'you know. Hey, Breakdown," Sparkplug greeted him. Cocking her helm towards Flamesnort, she added for the quad's benefit, "Breakdown came and fetched me out of the desert I ended up in when I fell out of orbit in a pod that would've needed two solid vorns of renovations in a shipyard to qualify as 'trash'. First face I saw on this rock."

Of course, then he'd stomped off while Knock Out was examining her... Having heard the rumours about base since then, that made a little more sense. Hopefully the big blue mech would have gotten over whatever had caused him to make his abrupt exit without blaming her for it.

Sparkplug's green gaze shifted to the rough patch over Breakdown's missing optic and lingered there for a moment. She couldn't have said why that hadn't been replaced, but if there was one mech around that had reasons to want to go up against MECH even more than she did...

"...so Flamesnort and I are just heading out to do a bit of investigating," she added conversationally. "Blackframe's up and vanished. He's a mouthy, jumpy little pain in the struts, but I don't much like It when folks just 'poof', gone without explanation. Not sure what might have happened yet. Gonna take some precautions, just in case."

There. She hadn't mentioned the M-word, but it wasn't hard to guess one of the best candidates for Blackframe's sudden disappearance. Oblivious to the feelings of others as she could sometimes be, Sparkplug didn't want to hurt the mech unnecessarily. The potential for vengeance might pull him one way, and the desire to avoid the scuttling human scavengers might pull him the other; Breakdown could make his own decision about what he wanted to do.

[Deleted]

If it had been anyone else other than Megatron telling him to pull his weight, he might have scoffed. Pulling his weight was almost literally the primary duty of Flamesnort for the last three months. Taking care to remove vermin from Blackridge was of minor time consumption, so Flamey spent a great deal of time with the Vehicon miners hauling ore. His build favored this activity. His processor, not so much. It had been far too long between adventures.

He bowed his head briefly in acknowledgement to Meagtron. "Your wisdom coincides with my own thoughts." He shook his head just a little to indicate he had no further desire to interrupt their leader from his goings. Respect was earned, and Flamesnort felt he had done little in the last million years to earn much respect at all.

The sooner he went hunting, the happier he would be. He dipped his head in greeting to Breakdown. “Well met Breakdown.” Flamesnort spoke with easygoing respect. He knew the mech by name and face though neither had made the effort to really converse. The vehicons spoke well of the burly mech and that was more than good enough for Flamesnort.

“Sparkplug” eloquently as ever “has said the long and short of it. I can cover the air if you two can cover the ground.” He turned his head to face Sparkplug. “Do you have last known whereabouts yet?”

It might be a very short adventure otherwise.

[Deleted]

Megatron paused in his leaving once Breakdown appeared, pausing long enough to acknowledge the greeting given to him. He had been about to turn and leave again, when instead he paused, watching the three others interact.

Megatron was well aware of the circumstance surrounding Breakdown and his loss of an optic. Nothing had been said to him – the Warlord felt it was unnecessary to confront the mech. The loss of an optic was punishment for allowing himself to fall victim to the vermin of the planet. While Megatron felt that if Blackframe had been offlined by such a pathetic species as the humans then he was probably not worthy of being a Decepticon, he knew not everyone felt that way.

What Megatron was curious about, was how Breakdown would react to the news that another Decepticon had possibly been taken by MECH. Would he demand a chance to go and rescue him? Feel bitter over his fate and refuse to help? Cower back and declare he had no desire to tangle with MECH again? As a Decepticon, Megatron would approve of the first, not be concerned one way or another with the second, and be extremely annoyed with the latter. There was no room for cowardice in his Decepticons.

Megatron was somewhat bemused that while Sparkplug was attempting to feel out whether or not Breakdown was interested in going to find Blackframe – perhaps even thinking among the same path he himself was, Flamesnort clearly assumed the other mech was interested and would join in. Perhaps his sense of vengeance was different – that he could not imagine Breakdown not wanting revenge.

Megatron lifted an arm, resting a broad hand on his narrow hip, “Yes, Breakdown. Sparkplug and Flamesnort are going to search for Blackframe. Will you be joining them? If so I can ensure your duties here are put on hold while you are out searching.”

Crimson optics studied Breakdown closely, curious as to what the other’s answer would be.

[Breakdown]

     Breakdown looked at Sparkplug and acknowledged her with a nod after she said her name, then returned to listening to what was being talked about. He prayed silently that they would just carry on as if he weren't there and Megatron would proceed with leaving so he could sneak past without drawing further attention to himself. That was all wishful thinking, as Megatron stopped and suddenly the two switched the conversation to his involvement as if he were part of this planned outing from the start.

     'Scrap...'

     This was not the situation he had expected to find himself in when he had been wandering around looking for his way out of the labyrinth of tunnels. While he had to be cautious about following orders, but he also had to read between the lines of the words being said. Megatron hadn't commanded him to go with the two, but the suggestion had been made, and he knew that the Decepticon Lord was weighting his response before Breakdown even said it. Megatron did not say anything without having and underlying reasoning behind it. Making the wrong choice, saying the wrong thing, or having the incorrect body language were all things that could throw up a red flag. 

     He didn't like the thought of anyone falling to the hands of MECH, if that were the case, but not for the reasons Megatron probably assumed. He knew what they were capable of, why they were a danger to them, but unless one actually experienced it first hand they really had no way of actually understanding it. The vile scum had just been learning about them when he had been captured, and though he had escaped, they'd still managed to crack him open and collect data. That had been some time ago and as of now none of them really knew how far they had advanced and what they had done with the knowledge they had gathered. In ways, whatever they had learned and what they did with it was Breakdown's fault, and he needed to rectify that situation.

     His yellow optic narrowed slightly as he looked at the two and his frame tensed. To those around him, he could have been reacting to the news of Blackframe's missing, which was fine to him. It would at least account for the brief silence. No one said MECH, but the assumption was there, especially in regards to asking him if he were going to come along. Rightly to assume that Breakdown would be wanting to get his punches in as payback for what they had done to him, but also for what he had and still did suffer with as a result of it.

     An eye for an eye, right? Not that Knock Out would be too pleased hearing that Breakdown went right back into the fire, but it wasn't as if he could just say no, either.

     "Yeah, I'm in. It'd just be extra fun if MECH is behind it since I got some scores to settle with'em." Breakdown glanced between the two, then turned his frame slightly so he could look at his Master and added quickly, "permission to go with them, Lord Megatron?" 

    Even though he had agreed to this nonsense, he still had to follow the chain of command very carefully and ask if he had the right to go out there. Unlike Knock Out who could just go out and race willy nilly with little more than a slap to the servo, he had to tread a little more lightly. Knock Out was a ranked officer and their Medic- the CMO. Breakdown was cannon fodder and simply trash that was festering that could be tossed out at any time without much consequence.

[Sparkplug]

The sound of Megatron's voice behind her instantly tensed Sparkplug's spinal strut; she'd thought he'd walked on, while she was greeting Breakdown. Instead... right. Of course. Where she'd seen the opportunity to delicately give Breakdown the choice of pursuing or avoiding MECH, as he preferred, the Warlord would have seen the exact same circumstance as an opportunity to test Breakdown's resolve. Now the big mech couldn't walk away, not knowing that the Lord of all Decepticons was watching him choose.

The three of them were enmeshed in an instantly established net of inference, each knowing what the others were thinking without needing to speak the words: Sparkplug the unwitting instigator, Megatron the inquisitor, with Breakdown at the centre, his options narrowed down to one.

Oh, and there was Flamesnort, who was plainly oblivious to all of it.

The inevitable played out; Breakdown tensed up, visibly reluctant to fall into the trap, but Megatron had already offered to suspend his duties while he went out, so pleading a prior task just wouldn't work. All that was left was for him to agree. He duly did so.

"Alright. It sure won't hurt to have one more combatant on the ground for this," Sparkplug acknowledged. "I've got a couple of ideas for mitigating some of their nastier tricks. Might be nothing, but..."

Unwilling to go into further detail with the Warlord standing right there, not wanting to waste his time, she turned towards Flamesnort and answered, "NRW-176 is on bridge duty. He can drop us off near the last-known location that Blackframe caused the human media to make a fuss. Then we'll have a starting point and a vector, and we can take it from there. Meet you two at the bridge in ten, and we'll get going."

Bowing to the terrifying wall of silver-grey alloy, she added respectfully, "By your leave," and backed away a few steps, before turning to head off down the corridor. There were a couple of things she wanted to try out before they left, and she hadn't given herself much time to do it.

[Deleted]

It was settled. The hunt was on, some minor preparations then it was time to see if he could live up to his claim of tracking. A lot would depend on what trail this Blackframe took. If the grounder stayed primarily to paved roads, the task could be nigh impossible after four days on this weather beaten planet, Flamesnort thought. At least Blackframe was a grounder. Tracking fliers was best left to minds greater than his own.

The femme took her leave first. Ten minutes? Flamesnort wondered what Sparkplug had in her toolbox. He welcomed any advantage her tech could bring. He hoped to avoid any human tricks completely for now, until they were done scouting first though. Flamesort took his own leave too, a polite nod to his liege, and then about half a dozen paces over to NRW-176 at the console

"NRW, could you bring up a satellite view of the destination, real time if possible thank you." Flamesnort wanted to study the area first. He didn't know what Blackframe had been up to prior, nor any intended destination so ideally more information was needed to give a better idea first. "Please superimpose all previous location for Blackframe on that day, and patrol routes." 

Tracking sentients was both easier and harder than typical vermin. Avoiding the native sentient vermin at the same time would just add to the challenge.