Chapter Text
"Pit no," Bumblebee said, with a strained voice. He winced as his arm was twisted further, nearly breaking the wires in his socket. When his voice box screech in pain and the wires nearly snapped, his arm was released. Gasping in relief, he was allowed to pull it close to his chest. He looked up, studying the mech holding him down.
Well didn't Primus want to test him. The mech, who had an Autobot badge, snickered "How 'bout now darlin'?" Bumblebee glared. "Come on." he drawled melodiously. "We want dat power cell as much as you do. De only difference is I'll be able to kill ya for it."
Bumblebee stayed silent, turning his gaze to the floor instead. This bot wasn't lying. (He felt weak and helpless.) Gripping his chin, the mech positioned his face for the...thing's benefit. His visor brightened as he asked "Mirage ya recognize this guy?"
'Mirage' appeared in front of him, normal looking as a bot could be but he screamed "High Tower noble". Oh he was an outlier. His mentor told him about those. Mirage knelt down, bracing himself with one knee. He examined Bumblebee. The minibot squirmed under him. Finally, the mech answered, turning his eyes away from Bumblebee "I've seen him around."
"What's he do for a living?"
"I steal," Bumblebee answered, before Mirage could. "The power cell's mine so lay off and get off," he forced his voice to grow darker at the last part. He wasn't a master of intimidation, but he was a master with his voice. The two didn't even blink at the implied threat.
The mech hummed; it was a tune that Bumblebee vaguely recognized. "Prime would like ya." That sentence set his processor on the wrong neural pathway (Bad bad Don't let them.) "Don't you think so Mirage?"
The mech shrugged awkwardly, most likely not used to the movement. "It's your choice Jazz." He flicked Bumblebee's optics curiously, as if that would explain why a thief saw him when no one else could.. "I will say that he vaguely reminds me of Cliffjumper."
Jazz laughed and standing pulled Bumblebee up to stand on shaking legs. "Ye ain't wrong darlin'. Let's just see what Prime says. If he doesn't like de kid we kill him. If he does, I get a new agent. Win-win."
"Sounds like a lose-win to me," Bumblebee muttered. They shot him an odd look. "With you idiots losing." Jazz grin grew wider, he patted Bumblebee's head.
"If anything, my opinion of him ought to sway the boss-bot."
Goldbug looked out the window, propping his leg up on the armrest. The Rust Sea was a beautiful place. Having never gotten the chance to visit but hearing all the old stories of the Thirteen tries...he had wanted to. Emphasis on 'had'. The incident with the Allspark soured that wish.
Swinging his good leg, his optics caught sight of the crystals the Allspark had grown in its time lost in the Rust Sea. From the reports, there were creatures, living and dead that lived there. Horrible monsters that forced the factions to work together to retrieve the Allspark and leave. Alas poor Moonracer and the poor doctor who had let her fall.
While reminiscing, he didn't hear Prowl sit across from him. It took the tactician to feign a cough to get Goldbug's attention. He really needed to work on his awareness. Goldbug refrained from shifting under Prowl's calculating gaze. That would just please Prowl. He signed absently, 'You need something?'
"Not at the moment," he said. He smiled, an expression that was more creepy than reassuring.
'Liar,' his hands moved without thinking. Instinctively, his hand gripped the seat, but Prowl didn't move an inch. He forced himself to relax. Pushing himself to meet Prowl's eyes he said 'What do you need?'
Prowl shrugged, his smile falling into his usual impassive expression. "I have to consider how to word my question in a way that makes you more easily manipulated." Well that was honest and Primus did that mess with his processor. There were no words to express how much he hated this mech.
(Well there were but none that he would say in front of Soundwave's brats.)
Goldbug sighed, focusing once more on the Rust Sea. Feeling Prowl's optics on him, he motioned sardonically. 'Take your time. I'm on the edge of my seat here.' Prowl made a noise that could have been a laugh but knowing that tactician. Rarely did he laugh.
The one that truly laughed at his comment was their transport. "That was the most sarcastic signing I've ever seen," Jetfire said, clearly amused.
Prowl kicked the shuttle, shooting the mech's cameras a disapproving look. "Shouldn't you be focused on regulating your flight systems so that the rust doesn't affect our escape?"
That was a good question. He smiled wryly behind his mask. 'I think he's reminiscing on his soured partnership with Starscream.' Prowl's shot him a smirk and played along.
"It happens to the best of us," the tactician soothed.
Before the shuttle could respond, Goldbug asked 'Does Chromedome make you act,' he paused for emphasis 'irrationally?' He looked out the window, hiding his laughter at Prowl's glare, optics glowing bright red. Not a good look for the stoic, apathetic tactician.
"Haha," Prowl said, in the most deadpan, monotone voice. "Shall I mention your time with Optimus on your kne-" He ducked, barely avoiding the knife. He stared at the knife a moment before glancing back at Goldbug. "I can't tell if you should work on your anger issues or work on your aim."
Goldbug pounced, flipping them both over the seats. They struggled for balance before wrestling. Prowl took advantage and released one of Goldbug's wrists to dig fingers into the seams of his legs. The spy's vocalizer staticed. In retaliation, Goldbug headbutted him and temporarily removed his mask to bite him.
"Ow for Primus' sake!" He wrenched his arm away and slammed Goldbug's hand into the flooring. "You're just as bad as Jetfire and his little broken spark." Goldbug grabbed Prowl by the shoulders and kneed him in the stomach (with his bad leg, Primus he was an idiot). The tactician choked and was forced to steady himself, while the spy switched their positions and began strangling Prowl.
"I will throw you both out of the ship into the Rust Sea," Jetfire warned, speeding up, then he did--something and it dislodged them. They yelped, airborne for a moment before they fell, sprawled out on the floor. "For Primus' sake! I thought you two were allies." They shrugged helplessly. (They never really have gotten along. With each other or any mech for that matter.)
A new voice spoke up "You don't like relationship drama do you Jetfire?" They sat up and turned.
"No one does if they're involved and unfortunately, I am very involved," Jetfire retorted. Arcee laughed agreeing. Memo to self, relationships (particularly his old one with Starscream) was a sore spot.
Goldbug signed at the same time Prowl said "Your voice." His expression grew cruel, a smile playing on his lips "It's not nearly as annoying."
Arcee snorted and helped Goldbug up. "Like I asked Prime to tear out my voice box." She winked at him as her hand rested on her hip. Unlike himself, she wasn't affected by words as much as he was.
Perhaps that made her the perfect partner.
(Wait no.) He dismissed that thought as quickly as it came. (Still, he couldn't be completely angry at her. Her voice box was restored. He couldn't say that. Literally.) He signed 'At least you're not a stuttering mess.' It was easy to be around her, all violence and cheer.
"Right?" She waved at a camera. "Thanks for the med drones." Vaulting over the couch, she settled and patted the seat next to her, her optics on Goldbug. He pushed himself up to stand, sitting next to her. (Caution B. Don't get comfortable.) Jabbing a thumb towards the shuttle she explained "Jetfire got annoyed by my," she held up her fingers in quotation marks "'warbled stutters and whistles'. So he sent a few of his med drones to fix me up." She pointed at the scar on her throat with a wide grin "We match!"
Despite himself, he let himself smile before activating his mask.
Prowl cleared his intake. They focused on him. "Alright we're coming up to an old sector of Praxus. Practice radio silence and silence in general until we get to the base." He gave them a would-be innocent smile if it was from anyone but Prowl. "I'm sure you two have lots of experience with that."
Goldbug stiffened, his leg bouncing as he clenched his fist. Arcee slung an arm around Goldbug. He flinched at the knife in his peripheral. It wasn't aimed at him, near his throat perhaps but not poised to cut him. (Perhaps Arcee would never aim a knife at him.) "You're right. I think you should start practicing now."
The tactician narrowed his eyes, evaluating. Finally, - whatever he saw, he didn't like - he forced himself to relax despite what he discovered. "I'll keep that in mind."
Jetfire spoke up "We'll be there in about a cycle or so. Might as well take a nap if you'd like."
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Out now," Jetfire said, curtly. Perhaps he was still angry about their improptu wrestling match. They exited the shuttle, though Goldbug was forced to jump and land awkwardly when Jetfire transformed. Arcee laughed but helped him up. Goldbug glared at her but let it go when they were forced to stumble out of the way of Jetfire's stomps. "Where are we Prowl?" The scientist seemed oddly fascinated by all the debris and radiation.
"A bombed city between the outskirts of the Rust Sea and Praxus," the tactician answered. "I can barely remember the name myself." (Liar. Goldbug refrained from calling out the falsehood. It was one of Prowl's few berserk buttons.) "Now shush," he hissed. They flinched but followed the orders as well as they could.
They kept quiet, following Prowl through the streets of the bombed city. Sneaking around reminded Goldbug of his days as a thief and a spy. (Strangely enough he kind of missed those days. No Prowl, no Optimus, no confusing factional loyalty. Heaven.
They made it to the base. It was humble but Goldbug didn't mind. State-of-the-art gadgets were a lot easier to track, older tech, not so much. Jetfire, amusingly, gave it a sour look. Prowl turned to them with a gesture.
"Jetfire, Arcee, get the door if you will."
Between the two, they were able to pry the door open, allowing Goldbug to slip in. The spy used a gun (gifted to him by Ironhide) to temporarily activate the system. Pressing a few buttons he let them in.
Prowl pushed him out of the way and wrenched the gun out, taking out the power. He threw the gun to Goldbug who caught it because of reflex. He glared at Prowl but Prowl was already busy with the next thing.
Using the door console to stand, he began walking, stumbling over the debris. Arcee grabbed him, steadied him. He restrained himself from focusing on it too much. (Autobots didn't rely on others. They shouldn't.) He snapped, gettting their attention. His hands moved absently as he examined the area.
Prowl waved his hands dismissively "It'll work. You know how to work these older systems thanks to your brief partnership with Blaster." He didn't plug anything in yet, didn't power up anything. Optimus wouldn't hesitate, if they made a mistake. He never interrupted his subordinates when they made a mistake. "Jetfire, Arcee, keep a watch out for spies, soldiers, anything. 97.6% chance of Optimus sending someone after us."
Goldbug nodded and activated his gun again. It was useful for situations like these, when someone needed to use low powered devices so as not to alert the tyrannical, maniacal monsteer they called leader.
He sighed when it buzzed for half a second before cutting off. He kicked it. Still nothing.
Darn that usually worked.
Sliding down against the wall, he hid a sigh of relief as weight was taken off his leg. He unsubspaced his own battery-powered radio. Rodimus had thrown it at his head to laugh at him. (Lo and behold it was a valuable tool for their attempted coup.)
"Bee," Prowl snarled. "The radio waves could alert Soundwave." True. He tilted his head. Did Prowl have something better to suggest? The tactician didn't suggest anything so the spy assumed not.
His hands moved lazily 'Blaster taught me things.' He flicked a few levers on and turned the knobs before Prowl could stop him. "Gentle Bee. They ain't a Decepticon's sensory relays. Turn the knob seventeen point eight degrees, adjust the antenna...Presto. Gentlemen we got em." The radio staticed and went silent before they heard some voices. He smiled triumphantly, seems that narcissist wasn't completely useless after all. The spy turned the volume up slightly and met Prowl's eyes. (What was he looking for? Permission?)
The tactician was silent, but apparently the logic didn't dictate a high enough risk as he said "If we get caught, I'm throwing you in the Acid Wastes." Squeezing his shoulder hard, the mech glared. (Prowl never did like to be one-upped or worse wrong.)
Goldbug shivered at the glare and turned to hide a wince. Regaining control of himself, he said 'Better to die alone than be alive in Optimus' hold.' Prowl cracked a rare smile.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
They were sitting around the radio, listening quietly. It was better for them to save energon until the rest of Prowl's very secretive plan came to fruition.
Arcee was rambling about...something. Goldbug may have been nodding along but he wasn't paying attention. The conversation had taken a weird turn at some point. (He did not want to know what his brother had gotten up to behind closed doors.)
"This place is really nice by the way. Makes me nostalgic for Jhixus' lab." Her voice was wistful. In Goldbug's experience, labs did not make one nostalgic unless you were the scientist. "After I tortured him and pushed his lab into the Acid Wastes." There it was.
Jetfire and Prowl exchanged a glance. Goldbug, despite his years as a spy, couldn't decipher the look passed between them. Instead, he turned to Arcee and asked with hesitant movements 'Do you mind helping me push Ratchet's lab into the Acid Wastes?' She smiled maniacally.
"First Optimus." Arcee gripped his servos. Her smile was maniacal. Her claws painfully dung into the seams of his servos. "After we kill Optimus, Ratchet is next." Goldbug was not sure how to react to this interaction.
Thankfully, Prowl interrupted, breaking the moment. (He didn't know how to react to Arcee's declaration either.) "Ratchet has an infirmary not a lab Bee," Prowl said, with the subtle lilt that he often used when correcting someone. He smirked at Goldbug's glare. "Sorry I meant Bug. As in Goldbug."
Goldbug's optics dimmed low then brightened in faux-disbelief at Prowl's statement. He offended of course but also-
He pointed at Prowl's processor, which was a gift from Ratchet...after putting Prowl in a coma, completely deconstructing his processor, installing a modification in said proccessor, and reconsctructing Prowl's head. (The tactician didn't realize that had happened until the twins pointed it out. (It was kind of funny actually.))
Goldbug could even use himself as an example. Though, this time he didn't need to. Prowl was quiet a moment. "Point taken," he conceded.
Voices crackled to life on the radio. Goldbug turned up the volume. Oh...oh no.
A cackle rang over the transmissions. <="Get in formation! We've already got a plan to smoke em out." =>
Jetfire stood. "I can distract them." He was already walking that way.
<="What's taking you idiots so long!?=>
Prowl nodded, calm as ever. "Do that. Backup will be here shortly."
<="Aerialbots transformer into...=>
Arcee pulled Goldbug up with her, a frown on her face. "Who are the Aerialbots?" The answer was given to her not a second later.
"Superion!"