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How Long Until He Works It Out?

Summary:

General Morshower returns back to Diego Garcia, and while everything is normal, it seems like everyone knows something he doesn't.

Notes:

Light swearing.

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

General Morshower had seen a fair bit of action in his time. He wasn’t the oldest officer in the United States Army, but by god, he felt it sometimes. His bones and joints would ache at the end of the day, especially after a flight like the one he’d just disembarked on. In the backseat of the Humvee that picked him up from Diego Garcia’s airport, he subtly tried to knead out the sore muscles that matched the lines on his face.

The familiar timeless bustle of the base was a welcome greeting. Soldiers ran from one place to another doing their commanding officer’s bidding, officers shuffled paperwork, and vehicles roared towards their destinations. Some of these vehicles did not look like they belonged on a military base, however, and Morshower found himself internally chuckling at the thought that some of these vehicles were, in fact, alien. The Humvee crested a rise and one of said aliens came into view - the broad figure of the Autobot known as Ratchet carefully strode between humans, possibly on his way to pester the local medics again about human anatomy.

The Humvee rolled to a stop outside the hangar where the Autobots resided and Morshower exited, the wind making his jacket flap. Since he’d last been here a few months ago, someone had added a sign to the hanger. Someone who hadn’t accounted for the drying time of paint had scrawled ‘The Shed’ across wooden boards and hung it above the entrance. The Autobot symbol was painted next to it, much neater than the giant letters.

A man strode up to him. While clad in the familiar uniform, Morshower didn’t recognise him but assumed that he was simply new.

“General Morshower,” he said, falling into step with him. Morshower fought to keep his face neutral; the man had a much deeper voice than expected. “Welcome back. I have a few things to report. In the time you’ve been away, an additional Autobot has joined our ranks, designation ‘Arcee’. She has fought with the team for years and now takes the form of a motorcycle.”

“Good, we can use all the help we can get against the Decepticons.”

The man nodded. “I must raise the security concern, however. Arcee snuck into the base undetected. We had no clue about her presence on Earth until she revealed herself.”

Morshower clenched his jaw. “Right. I trust that security has been increased?”

“Of course, General.”

“Good.” He checked his watch. “Now, you must excuse me, soldier. I have a meeting with Optimus Prime that I’m almost late for. Send any more reports to my email.” Morshower strode into the hangar, leaving the soldier behind.

If the General had glanced behind him, he would have noticed the hidden quizzical look on the soldier’s face before he blinked and vanished into thin air.


Optimus stared into space, processor busy with the results of the meeting he just finished with General Morshower, Colonel Lennox, Lieutenant Colonel Epps, and other higher ranking officers. They’d discussed recent Decepticon activity - which amounted to almost none -, the slightly depleted energon levels, and their new member of the Autobot team. As it looked so far, Arcee had made a good impression on the General and would be assigned to missions as soon as she had completed the customary training programs, up to and including ‘How to Deal With Humans Without Injury to Them, Yourself, or Others’.

“Everything okay, sir?” Arcee called from where she was sprawled in bipedal form against the wall, reading up on her new programs. Bumblebee looked up in interest from where he was sitting nearby.

“Fine, thank you,” Optimus replied. “Just thinking about something the General said.”

Ironhide scoffed. “What, is he complaining about damage costs again? Because my stats are down three percent from last month!”

“No, not this time, Ironhide.” The mech smirked. Optimus ignored him. “No, but I believe that the General has not been briefed upon our Holoforms. He apparently did not recognize me this morning.”

“You mean he has no idea?” Arcee said, sitting up. “None at all?”

“None.”

She shared a look with Bee. “Oh really? So we were successful.”

“In what, Arcee?”

“Our Holoforms effectively blending in with other humans. Let’s use that- see how long it takes for him to notice that we’re not actual organics. It’ll test our human skills, and hey, it may even help me pass my course.” She waved her tablet in the air.

Bee nodded enthusiastically, clapping his servos. Optimus sighed internally. Apparently it was once a spy, always a spy with those two. And any chance for a competition had everyone on board. Well, almost everyone.

“Good luck, you slabs,” Ratchet snorted, “but leave me out of it. I’ve got enough on my plate without having to worry about that.” Arcee and Bumblebee simply shrugged, abandoned Arcee’s course work and began conspiring, helms bent together and communicating in hushed tones. Optimus let them go. Arcee did have a point with testing how well they could blend in with the humans, and besides, the team could use a little fun.


General Morshower was convinced that everyone knew something he didn’t. People kept looking at him oddly, especially during meetings with the Autobots. After a few days, he narrowed it down to have something to do with them, but couldn’t figure it out for the life of him.

“Sir, you’re required in the medbay in a few minutes,” his secretary, Miss Collins, said. “Your yearly physical has been scheduled for today, and Dr Evans insists that you can’t evade it any more.”

Morshower sighed. Miss Collins was new; appointed as his temporary secretary while his usual one was away on honeymoon. She had been very productive while only a few days into the job, although she could sometimes be the bearer of bad news. Perks of the job, he reasoned. “Perhaps I have an important meeting scheduled at that time? Or someone else needs me?” Miss Collins’ mouth lifted at the edges.

“Sorry, sir. Dr Evans has ordered me to drag you there myself if you refuse.”

Morshower sighed again. He’d been trying to avoid it as much as possible, but it seemed like he had run out of excuses. “Fine,” he grumbled. “I’m on my way.”

The medbay, almost on the other side of the base to Morshower’s office, was a hated place for all personnel on base, with the exception of whoever worked there. Anyone who didn’t need to be there gave it the widest berth possible. Which was why Morshower was so confused at the presence of someone so willingly inside of the building.

Dr Evans, the Head of the Diego Garcia Medical Wing, was talking intently to another man in a matching doctor’s coat. The new man had over-long hair, something that was (, even neatly tied back,) against regulations, and wore no name badge.

“Afternoon, Dr Evans,” Morshower said. The doctor snapped out of his conversation.

“General! Good to see you. It’s about time you visited us,” Dr Evans said.

General Morshower peered suspiciously at the other man. “Who are you?” he asked bluntly.

“Dr Richard Hammer. I’m new from a few weeks ago.”

“I didn’t see a report of a new doctor on base.”

“Ah. Well, I’ve been here almost three years.”

Morshower raised an eyebrow. “I thought you said you were new?”

The doctor looked smug. “I am.”

Dr Evans chuckled. “He’s kind of my apprentice, right now.”

Dr Hammer threw him a glare. “I’m not anybody’s apprentice, Evans! If anything, you’re mine. Whe else is going to teach you about Cybertronian biology?”

“Who else would teach you about human biology, huh?” Dr Evans shot back. “The World Wide Web?”

Dr Hammer shuddered. “Never again.”

“I still don’t know who you are,” Morshower interrupted. “I am the General here, and I need to know exactly who is on this base at all times.”

“Fine,” Dr Hammer rolled his eyes. “My other designation is Ratchet. You’ll know that name.”

Morshower blinked in surprise. “The Autobot medic?”

“That’s me.”

“But.. you’re human.”

Dr Hammer huffed. “Tell me something I don’t know. It’s called a holoform, sir. It’s a way to blend in with local inhabitants of a planet without freaking them out.” He turned back to the x-ray he was examining.

Understanding dawned. “That’s what everyone knows,” he said.

“Hm?” Ratchet didn't look up.

“Everyone else on the base. They knew about your holoforms.” he frowned. “But I wasn't informed. Why, exactly, wasn't I informed?”

Dr Ratchet? Hammer?- snickered. “Yeah. Well part of the plan was to see how well we could blend in with humans. And since you didn't recognise any of the others, they’re having a competition on who can last the longest without you finding them out.”

“Wait, I’ve already met some of them?”

“Eh, most of them.” He picked up some files despite the fact that he was supposed to be a hologram. Morshower’s mind was reeling. Human holograms of the Autobots? And he had met some of them and didn’t notice?

“Are you….going to tell me who they are?” Would he? Ratchet obviously wasn't in on their little competition, so perhaps he -

Ratchet simply cackled. “Nope! Consider it an exercise in observational skills.”

Morshower scowled.


Over the next few weeks, Morshower kept an eye out for potential Autobots in disguise. He checked any fresh face to the logs, but someone must have doctored them because they refused to show any inconsistencies. That frustrated him to no end, how everyone on the base seemed to know exactly who the Autobot’s Holoforms were. Only the General himself was out of the loop.

The Autobots, as it seemed, were much better humans than he expected. Not to say he was completely unsuccessful, but some were just simply at more of a disadvantage than others. Bumblebee had been a spy, Morshower knew, meaning he was quite a good actor when he wanted to be. But there weren’t many other people under twenty-one on the base, and being mute was a rather dead give-away. And apparently at least one of those factors couldn’t be changed via holoform, so Morshower managed to pick Cameron out within three days, much to the kid’s disappointment.

He was on his way to the Shed to ask Arcee a few more questions about how exactly she'd snuck onto the base when a soldier bumped into him turning the corner.

"Watch yourself," Morshower growled, grumpy at the interruption to his thoughts. He turned around in annoyance when the soldier did not reply - no "sorry, sir", no nothing.

He was surprised at the apparent youth of the soldier. Blonde hair topped his head and a light layer of stubble covered his jaw, as if grown in an attempt to look older. He stood at stiff attention, getting increasingly nervous at the General's scrutiny.

"Usually, soldier, when you bump into someone, you apologise. So when you bump into your commanding officer, you apologise."

The kid shifted, refusing to make eye contact. His mouth opened slightly but no words came out. Morshower, now more than a bit angry at the kid's disrespect, raised his voice just a little. "Look at me when I'm talking to you, boy!" Wide blue eyes snapped towards him, staring fearfully. "You disrespect-"

Morshower stopped and took a closer look. The kid's eyes were blue - too blue - and the lack of response gave him two very important clues.

"Bumblebee?"

The kid’s face turned stormy, a tick working in his jaw, then he just sighed. Shrugging, he gave the General a lopsided, half-annoyed-almost-bashful smile accompanied by a rueful thumbs up.

“Not bad, kid,” Morshower grinned, previous anger replaced just as quickly with elation. “You got close.”


Optimus, it seemed, should have been realised earlier if he just connected dots just a little bit better to begin with. He'd walked into a meeting with some other officers to meet with Admiral McLennan, shook some hands, sat down, then finally noticed a man standing at parade rest in the far corner. He vaguely recognised him.

"Thank you all for coming," the Admiral started. "I'd like to start with welcoming Lieutenant Colonel Epps to the meeting. He's here to give his opinion on the Autobot's performance along with Colonel Lennox - they've spent more time around our Cybertronian friends than anyone. I'd also like to acknowledge Owen Price. He will be simply observing the meeting today." The man in the corner nodded at the recognition. "Any questions?"

"Just one, sir," Morshower said. He turned to Price. "Where are you from? Call me paranoid, but you have no rank on your uniform to identify you and this is a meeting for ranking officers in the US Army. Who do you report to?"

Price stepped forward into the light. Morshower recognised the deep voice with a start - this had been the man who'd reported the new member of the Autobots. "My rank is not your concern - though I have no commanding officer here. As to where I'm from, consider it… Sector Eight."

"Sector Eight? No such thing."

Epps grinned from where he sat nearby. "With all due respect, sir, the last time you believed a Sector didn't exist, you were mistaken." Quiet chuckles echoed around the conference table and Morshower cleared his throat, embarrassed.

"Thank you, General Morshower," Admiral McLennan said. "Apologies, Price, for the interruption. Now, the Decepticons have been awfully quiet lately, do we know why?"

The meeting commenced. Throughout, Morshower found himself continuing to glance at Owen Price. He kept his face neutral throughout the long meeting, simply watching and listening to the officers talk. He seemed completely at ease and completely ordinary, something quite unlike what a 'Sector Eight' member should be. Or perhaps that was the point, Morshower reflected, to blend in and be as unobtrusive as possible.

Then something changed.

Admiral McLennan stood up to turn off the lights for a presentation and if Morshower hadn't been studying Price in that very moment, he would have missed it. As the room went dark, Owen Price's eyes flared blue - a bright, light blue that looked distinctly familiar. A second later, Price had blinked and they were back to looking like everyone else's, but Morshower knew what he saw.

If he had later been asked what the presentation had been about, he would of had no idea. Morshower spent the rest of the meeting mulling over what he’d seen, and could only come to one conclusion; Owen Price was an Autobot. And with the additional clues of his voice, name, and apparent security clearance, it could only be one.

Optimus Prime.

An hour or so later, once the meeting was over, Morshower pulled him aside. “I believe I owe you an apology, Prime,” he said. Optimus merely smiled.


The motorway, usually so busy, was somehow quiet at this time of day. Thank Primus it was, though, or Ironhide and Arcee could never go at these speeds with civilians present.

They were roaring down the asphalt, wind in their gears, heading towards the latest Decepticon sighting in Lawrence, Kansas. A carrier plane had dropped them off 20 miles ago, direct from Diego Garcia, and they were now simply enjoying the scenery until they arrived at the scene.

Earth had its own beauty occasionally, Ironhide reflected. At least, when the landscape wasn’t full of scrappy humans. A cow startled as he rocketed by, loping away with an alarmed warble.

Their blasted livestock too, Ironhide added. If he was in bipedal form, he would have curled a lip in disgust. Most organics were filthy, dirty, dumb creatures with way too many bodily fluids to be normal. If Ironhide had his way, he’d use his guns to blast the stupid ones to pieces. But Will said that was wrong - apparently his guns were “scary” (wasn’t that good?) and “even pretending to shoot someone wasn’t their idea of fun” (that had to be a load of scrap, surely. Right?). So instead, Ironhide simply ignored the cows and continued on down the road.

That was, until he sensed a local law enforcement vehicle chasing after him, siren blaring.

Scrap.

Ahead of him, Arcee’s helmeted holoform turned to glance at him, sent a mocking wave his way, and proceeded to speed up to even higher speeds.

[Don’t you dare-!]

[Too late,] she transmitted. [Have fun!]

Ironhide forcibly vented, hard. That had been a bolthead move, Arcee. Reluctantly he slowed so the police vehicle could catch up to him, then flicked on his indicator and drove to the side of the road, police following. His holoform, Aaron Hyde, quickly appeared in the driver's seat only seconds before the officer rapped on his window. He lowered it.

“Can I help you?”

“Sir, were you aware of how fast you were going? One hundred and twenty three miles per hour is over double the speed limit here, and I cannot allow that.” The officer fiddled with his vest, scowl on his face. His badge read ‘Officer Dennis’.

Sigh. “Yes, sir.”

“Can I see an ID?”

Aaron handed him his driver’s license. It was fake and made of holomatter, but would do in a pinch.

Officer Dennis examined it for a moment, then asked, “You’re in the Army, Mr Hyde?”

Aaron latched onto his opportunity. “Yes, I am, and so is the woman on the motorcycle. We are currently on a high-priority mission, and don’t have time for this, so if you’ll excuse me…”

Officer Dennis had begun shaking his head before Aaron had even finished speaking. “I cannot do that, sir. You were breaking the law and therefore-“

Aaron groaned. “Just ring my superior, officer,” he said. “They will tell you everything you need to know.” He retrieved a white business card out of his glovebox, also holomatter, and handed it straight to the officer. “I can promise you that my C.O. can answer for me.”

The police officer glanced at him, noting the military-style haircut and broad, muscled shoulders. Not for the first time, Ironhide was grateful that he’d chosen this form. Reluctantly, Officer Dennis dialled the number on the card.

“…Yes, this is Officer Dennis of the K.C.K.P.D. I apparently have one of your men here who claims to be on a mission for the Army….Aaron Hyde?…Yes, Aaron Hyde.”

Ironhide got bored around this moment. There were things to do, ‘Cons to smash, motorcycles to accidentally damage. It barely took him a thought to rev his engine, spin his back wheels, and leave the officer behind in the dust. He watched him closely through his rear mirror - but instead of giving chase, the officer simply watched him go.

Back on base, Morshower’s head was reeling. He’d initially been annoyed that Miss Collins wasn’t around to pick up the phone call, but his feelings had completely changed once he’d heard the name of the accused.

Aaron Hyde. Ironhide. How could he have been so stupid to miss that.

On the dry Kansas road, Officer Dennis scratched his head, glancing down at the licence in his hand. Mr Hyde had driven off without it, but apparently he actually was part of the US Army and on a mission. Dennis shrugged. He’d go back to the station and look him up anyway, just in case he wasn’t actually who he said he was-

The license card in his hand blinked, grew transparent, then just simply winked out of existence.


General Morshower was properly pissed. It had been weeks since the discovery of Aaron Hyde, and he still hadn’t worked out who Arcee’s holoform was. She didn't even seem to be avoiding him, either. Whenever he saw her, always in bipedal form, she'd simply give a little mocking flutter of her servos like she knew exactly how frustrated he was. The lower-ranking officers and the other Autobots found it hilarious, though they never said so to his face. Only his pride (and maybe a Prime) had stopped him from saying something he’d regret.

Morshower had even gotten to the point of asking others to tell him who she was. Lieutenant Colonel Epps refused with a laugh, and so did Colonel Lennox. Miss Collins simply flat-out refused, simply stating that he’d need to find out for himself. An attempted bribe of a day off had her laughing ruefully.

“I never have days off anyway, sir,” she had said with a sly smile, even if that made no sense.

Morshower wasn’t mad at Arcee, he really wasn’t. If anything, he was impressed. He knew from clues given to him sparsely that her holoform was in fact very similar to her true form, and that her name was a clue. But for the life of him, he couldn't figure it out. Morshower knew every one of the personnel on the base, he always made sure of that. But not one supposed-human in any of the soldier records gave anything away.

A day later, Morshower found himself at the Shed, conversing with Ironhide about Decepticon strategies and weapon ideas when a thought occurred to him. Ironhide was obviously still frustrated about being ditched by Arcee when the police pulled him over back in Kansas, and the two of them were renowned for their friendly rivalry.

“Ironhide, would you like to help me out with something?”

The big ‘bot crossed his arms. “With what?”

“Getting back at Arcee for the stunt she pulled a few weeks ago.”

Ironhide quickly glanced at Miss Collins who had been taking notes up until now. She looked at him, a venom in her gaze that Morshower didn’t expect. Ironhide smirked and stared her down, optics unblinking. “Absolutely, what do I need to do?”

Morshower let a smug smile slip out. “Tell me who her holoform is. I haven’t been able to work it out for weeks and I’m sick of people knowing things that I don’t. Apart from the fact that it’s humiliating, the information could be vital to a mission.”

Ironhide’s helm split with a wide mischievous grin. Morshower could practically feel the glare that Miss Collins was giving Ironhide, and he vaguely wondered if she was helping Arcee to disguise herself. “Well…..you’ve definitely met her.”

Oh, so he was going to drag this out. Great. Morshower sighed, mentally running through all the possible people he had interacted with in the last few weeks. Nothing revealed itself, at least since the last time he tried.

“You’re not just going to tell me?” He knew the answer even before Ironhide grinned even wider.

“Let’s just say that she’s much closer to you than you think.”

What was that supposed to mean? There was no one that-

Oh.

Oh.

He was an idiot.

In an instant, he spun around to face Miss Collins. Rachel. Rachel Collins. R.C…..oh, well done.

There was practically steam coming out of Rachel’s ears as she glared furiously at Ironhide. He snorted.

“You bootleg, ‘Hide!” she growled. The mech just snickered. She turned to Morshower. “Close your mouth, General, before you eat a fly.” He snapped his jaw shut.

“You…. the whole time?

She gave a mock bow, still fuming. As she rightened, her hair shimmered before changing to a deep blue instead of her usual dark brown, shot through with a streak of pink, matching her true form perfectly. She sighed hard and rubbed at her face.

Morshower shook his head in awe. “If I said I was impressed that would be an understatement, ‘Miss Collins’.” That time he got a smirk out of her.

She shrugged. “It was fun while it lasted.”

Morshower scoffed. “It's a shame, really. You were a brilliant secretary.”

“What else would I do?” Arcee said. “There’s nothing for me to do here except target practice, and besides, the job gave me the opportunity to learn about human behaviour as well as you and this base. No offence, but I wanted to know that you and the people here were trustworthy. I trust Optimus and the others with my life, of course, but I like to be reassured. I’m a spy, it’s what I do. So you’ll be pleased to know that what I witnessed while under the guise of Miss Collins was satisfactory, and I would gladly take up the job again anytime you need the help.”

“And we’d welcome you back to your job in a heartbeat. Welcome to the United States Army.”

Notes:

Koschei and Mae have collectively decided to try and have an update on this series every Friday until we run out of ideas or motivation. However, because this is a co-author thing, we keep pestering and poking each other until we somehow end up with 4000 words in only four days.

TBC.