[Fic] Story of a Lifetime, part 10.5
Part 10: Win some, lose some
Chapter 5 of 6
A rattling noise made Sideswipe raise his rifle protectively, and he saw the others in his unit fan out to identify it. A moment later he saw Cadmium press the barrel of his rifle against something hidden in a pile of rubble and shoot twice in quick succession.
He grit his teeth. Another survivor beyond help. Primus save them, were they going to find no-one left intact enough to rescue?
The orn had started out like any other. The command staff were agitated about something but there was nothing new in that. Then word had filtered out that a major offensive was underway and was going well.
How or why those nineteen targets had been selected he had no idea, but one of them was Perihex - where the largest Decepticon barracks were situated on Cybertron - and it was with images of the Perihex communications tower toppling that they had been informed of the attacks in the first place. They had all been on the defensive for so long that the move caught everyone by surprise and maybe that was why it had worked: the Decepticons can not have expected it either.
And then less than a groon later, the celebratory mood turned to panic as it became clear that the Decepticons were retaliating at their weakest point: Luciana.
Officially Luciana was not an Autobot base, it was a safe haven for bondpairs and breeders and sparklings. Every known carrier and sparkmated pair had been rounded up and sent there after the change in Decepticon policy while Prowl played decoy pretending to prepare bases out in the Plutes sector. The 'decoy' part had particularly appalled Sideswipe when he found out, knowing the terrible impact of that assignment on their tactician, but Prowl had apparently known the truth of his role from the start.
Sideswipe had wondered occasionally whether Prime knew that Prowl himself was actually a carrier. Given that Prowl had never even told Ratchet about the rape and the ensuing complications, it was unlikely that he would have told Prime.
In fact, Sideswipe sometimes wondered if Jazz knew his lover had that ability. It was something that was usually only known to a mech himself, and was not so common as to be assumed. Prowl obviously did not want to be stuck at Luciana and Jazz had been absent so long it was a question that he had thought may never actually be resolved, just something to ponder.
And now, of course, Luciana had been destroyed as thoroughly as Praxus or the Crystal City back on Cybertron, so the speculation was futile.
Something shifted in front of him and he saw a femme twitching helplessly on the ground, flailing weakly towards a rifle out of her reach. Her armour was torn and riddled with holes from close range blaster fire. She was slowly fading away.
"P-please." she begged him. "My-y bonded. They t-t-took... Please, he's a c-carrier... don't let them..."
Saying nothing, he swung his rifle up and aimed.
It was possible that with proper medical attention she might survive. Might. And it was possible that her mate was still in a condition to be rescued. Maybe. But neither were likely. At least this way they would be reunited in the Well of All Sparks.
A cold mercy, but better than lingering torture.
Team H3 - report his radio line crackled as it came online.
Nothing so far, base. he heard Greyline respond. What's the word from the others?
Nothing yet. Keep looking.
Muttering a quick prayer over the greying form at his pedes he moved on. Somewhere there had to be some survivors. There just had to be.
Prowl shaded his tired optics from the glare of the overhead lights as a shuttle made a low pass over the area, trying to focus on the datapad in front of him. His processor was threatening to crash on him with the stress it was under, struggling to handle too much data at once.
They had arrived at Luciana too late to stop the attack and abduction, but early enough that there had still been an ion trail to track. Optimus had dumped a unit on Luciana looking for survivors, leaving Prowl in charge, and had taken the rest of the crew of the Escaphalion to lead the approaching Autobot reinforcements in retaliation. This time, Prime swore, they would rescue the victims before they could be abused for the Decepticons' gain.
He was right to make the attempt, if for no reason other than the fact that all of the factories had now been destroyed and so this group would give the Decepticons a fresh start instead of being bereft of their source of new sparks as planned. There was a reasonable chance that some of the captives might be saved, might still be in a condition to be saved. Where they would go next was a problem that would have to wait until later but there was still a genuine chance.
Meanwhile the search at Luciana went on.
Taking the Escaphalion meant taking the ship's computers and Prowl had downloaded the strategic data of the various attack plans into his own tactical processor so he could continue to co-ordinate them. Nineteen separate teams constantly supplying new information and demanding new orders; plus the need to consider the reports coming in from the various other Autobot bases and ships about Decepticon movements; plus the search effort here at Luciana; plus the sporadic updates from the rescue fleet headed by the Escaphalion.
It felt like his head was very slowly exploding.
"Prowl?"
It was a shock to hear the sound of someone actually speaking to him vocally rather than through the dozens of data channels he was sifting, forwarded by Blaster who was sitting beside him. He swayed dazedly, simultaneously sending different instructions to two separate groups and acknowledging completion of phase five from a third.
"Prowl, we've found a sparkling." the voice informed him. "Where are we going to send him?"
"Forty-three percent probability of success with option b-2805d5." he muttered. "Too low. Re-plotting."
Primus below, he was actually vocalising his processes now? That was far from being a good sign. He moved to rub the side of his helm to try to allay some of the ache, then found there was something in his hand. A datapad? Why? Oh yes, he was recording the Autobot casualties and the civilian survivors. So far one list was appallingly long and the other was empty.
"Prowl, the sparkling?" the voice insisted.
Looking up he initially thought he had a fault with his optics as he seemed to be seeing double. He focused and realised it was Huffer with an unfamiliar yellow minibot badly in need of a trip to the washracks. A sparkling, had Huffer said?
"How old are you?" he found himself asking, sickened by the irony.
If someone had only thought to ask him that question all those vorns ago, he would have been here at Luciana himself and would never have met Jazz: his lover's fatalism would have gotten him killed long before Prowl could possibly have finished his basic training. Then again, Luciana itself would not exist if he had not had the idea, so... oh, his processors hurt.
"Two hundred and seventeen, sir." the sparkling responded. "Are you a commander?"
"Chief Prowl is a senior officer." Huffer answered the question before continuing. "His designation is Bumblebee. He's been upgraded into his adult frame, but he's too young to have a function-base yet."
Not so, Prowl mused dazedly, remembering the aches in his processor when his mentor had installed the tactical function-base when he was only a few vorns old. Similar, in some ways, to the pain he was experiencing now.
The name penetrated, familiar. Bumblebee? That was the designation given to that sparkling created on the Ark just before the ship had been sent back to Iacon, the one who had been inexpertly hidden away as a drone. His creators had never been identified. Whoever they were, they may well have died here today or been taken capture. Unless they had never admitted the truth and remained amongst the crew of the Escaphalion. It was possible. The migration to Luciana had been on a voluntary basis.
"Take him to Ratchet and get him checked over." he instructed.
"Ratchet went with Prime." Huffer reminded him.
Prowl pressed a hand against his helm as six reports came in at once, each updating the data in his processor and all demanding his immediate attention.
"Leave him here, then." he said shortly. "Go and keep looking until we've had the whole place thoroughly cleared."
"Here?" Huffer echoed.
"For the love of Primus will you stop bothering him?" Blaster complained. "This mess's nearly tearing my circuitry, and I'm just filtering it, not analysing it. The mechlet'll be just fine here with us - go and do your thing. Steeljaw - watch the sparkling, would you?"
Three more names for his list, courtesy of the updates, but also one for the other column. Bumblebee. Hopefully there would be more names in that list before this was over.
Sideswipe had to search for nearly three breems before he finally found where Prowl had hidden himself away.
The tactician was shuddering, the contents of his tank having been purged onto the ground around him. That was not surprising - the medics had predicted he would react like that when he released the pressure of trying to take the place of a mainframe in terms of processing power, and Blaster was doing much the same nearer to the temporary command centre. Prowl, though, would want to maintain morale by not purging in front of the troops, and thus had disappeared.
So that was not surprising, but finding a yellow minibot with him was.
"He's sick." the minibot announced worriedly, spotting Sideswipe. "Can you help him?"
Sideswipe nodded, moving closer.
"Yeah. You're Bumblebee, right?"
The minibot brightened.
"Yes. Who are you?"
"Sideswipe."
"S-sides..." Prowl grated, trying to straighten, then hunching over as more fluid forced its way back up through his systems.
"How many times've I gotta deal with you purging, eh?" he asked, feigning irritation. "I swear that's the only reason you keep me around."
"A... Any word from the Escaphalion...?"
"Not yet. You heard the Cons spaced a whole lot of the captives to slow down the chase? Latest word is most of them were already gone before they got ditched. A few've been saved, though."
Prowl nodded jerkily and raised his head a little, then clutched at it.
"Primus."
"You've got to charge, Prowl. Pipes says it's the only thing you can do until they can get a proper power drain installed to draw off the buildup in your circuits."
"No." Prowl said softly. "There's... work to do."
"You'll kill yourself."
"Not today." Prowl argued, forcing himself into a straight-backed posture, then froze there and his optics dulled.
"Prowl?" Bumblebee asked after a moment. "Sideswipe? What's wrong with him?"
"That's what happens when you overwork, Bee." Sideswipe sighed. "I think his processor just broke."
But then Prowl's eyes lit up again fitfully and he jerked upright.
"We search again." he ordered, swaying unsteadily. "If there are any more survivors, we will save them. I'll see to it, it's my responsibility."