"And I'm off to the races, cases of Bicardi chasers,
Chasin' me all over town,
'Cause he knows I'm wasted,
Facin' time again in Ricker's Island and I won't get out,
Because I'm crazy, baby,
I need you to come here and save me,"

»«

Chromia froze, staring at the human weapon that was far too close to Dana's head for comfort. Using slow movements she lowered Megatron to the ground, optics searching for a way to blast that human to bits without hurting Ratchet's charge.

Dana closed her own eyes, trying to take a slow, solid breath. She had thought Gamma would be dangerous, but when they spoke and interacted with one another she doubted her intial assumption. Now she wished she had listened to her intuition.

"Chromia, did it work?" Ratchet asked over intercom. "Is Dana safe?"

The femme pursed her lips. "It worked," she murmured. "But Dana is in the hands of a M.E.C.H human."

"I'm coming over-"

"No, Ratchet," she cut him off. "He has a gun."

Agent Fowler gripped the railing, cursing. "Put me in there," he ordered the medic. "Let me see if I can try to talk him down."

"You want to do the talking?" Ratchet asked, bewildered. "Forgive me, Agent Fowler, but I doubt you can do much better than any one of us Cybertronians in this situation!"

Gamma glared at Chromia. "I have a few demands to be met," he shifted his stance, feeling the resistance of the trigger. The safety was on, because the last thing he wanted was to actually shoot the girl, but he refused capture; Alpha would never forgive him for that. "If you do not attend to any of them, I kill her. Understood?"

"Put me in the field, now!" Fowler snapped at Ratchet. "She is my responsibility as much as yours, and I have been trained for hostage situations. If you want Dana to get out of this, alive, you need for me to negotiate with this guy."

Ratchet took in a deep ventilation. His energon veins were alive with energy, every move he made seeming to be the wrong one. Ratchet had never been one to want to hurt someone, but if that human so much as bruised his charge, he would not be merciful.

"Agent Fowler is coming to discuss the terms," he finally told Chromia, who relayed the message to Gamma. "He is Groundbridging now"

Gamma waited impatiently as the Agent strode through the portal, dark eyes scanning the scene before he settled on the pair of kidnapper and kidnapped.

"Son, put the gun down, and we can talk," Fowler began, though that only earned him a head shake.

"You listen, or I make good on my threat," the M.E.C.H operative hissed. "One: You will not attempt to capture me, or take you to your base. Two: Megatron is mine as well. Lockdown needs him, and if he doesn't get what he wants, we will be the ones paying. And you will not attempt to rescue him either."

The federal agent gazed at Gamma for a long time, eyes occasionally glancing over at his terrified intern. Fowler's hands had curled into fists without him realizing, and he took a deep breath before relaxing them. He had to remain focused, and not let his emotions get to him. It would be more beneficial to Dana if he treated this as any other typical hostage situation; though it was far from it.

His trained eyes noticed the safety on the gun, how it was clicking in the "wrong" direction. The M.E.C.H member had not prepped the gun to fire. This was new and intriguing development.

Megatron twitched as his systems came back up online, leaving him in a temporarily paralyzed state while he did a scan of the damages. The report came back negative for internal bleeding, however his nanites were busy repairing some patchwork, scarring of the plating minimal at the worst. External welding and mending had been done, work he assumed to be by Ratchet's servo. His fans kicked on when the heat finally registered, and he immediately wondered why it was so Primus-forsaken hot. Even the material beneath him was scorching.

"I'm not going to ask again," Gamma hissed. "Give me the Transformer, and let me go, or I shoot the girl."

The girl.

Dana.

Optics opening, Megatron shuttered them quickly as light nearly blinded them, his instincts warning him to remain still and suppress a grunt of pain, but the threat of the unnamed human hung in the air. Dana was in trouble.

Agent Fowler took in a breath, gritting his teeth. The last thing he wanted to do was give her up in exchange for Megatron; he could see in her eyes that she was hoping he would refuse the offer. It was questionable, though, how Gamma thought he would get away with Megatron now that the rest of his lackeys were gone. Fowler wondered if he had a plan.

Dana had since stopped struggling, her bright eyes drawn to the slightly moving Megatron, whose optics were half-open and looking directly at her. It was obvious he was trying to assess the situation inconspicuously. He would be too slow if he tried to rescue her, and they both knew that. When their eyes met he opened his a little more, Dana taken aback by the odd discoloration.

The center of his optics pulsed a delicate blue, though red still very much dominated most of the area.

Resolve formed in her mind, energy blossoming from within her gut and spreading to her arms and legs, priming them for action. She was not going to let Megatron fall in the hands of M.E.C.H, not when she could literally see the redemption forming in his very optics. The last thing she wanted was to see him fall by the hands of a monster like Lockdown.

"Dana - " he rasped a warning, wanting to stop her, but she took advantage of Gamma's freezing when the human realized Megatron was conscious. Her foot kicked back and slammed into the operative's knee, elbow hitting his gut as she spun out of his grip, grabbing the wrist with the gun and shoving it away, realizing with some relief that she did not hear it fire.

Gamma yelled in frustration, her blows coming more as a surprise than pain, slipping the safety off of the pistol and bringing it up to fire, desperate to evade capture.

"Look out!" Agent Fowler ran and tackled the former nurse as massive gunfire sprayed across the desert floor, narrowly missing the humans as it carved a path toward Megatron. The Decepticon rolled to his pedes and avoided the blast, the shriek of a ship flying by as it spun to make another pass. "Who in Sam Hill is that?"

"It seems Lockdown's activities has attracted the attention of another bounty hunter," Megatron rumbled, denta bared. "Blastwave."

Chromia stepped in front of the warlord as the ship circled back around. "Ratchet," she commed. "We need a Groundbridge, NOW!"

The medic hurriedly typed in the coordinates, Agent Fowler helping Dana to her feet, Chromia staying behind to make sure Megatron got through first as well, knowing that signaling the Autobot bounty hunter would be useless from the moment he found his prey. As inconvenient as it was, it was Blastwave's nature to shoot first, ask questions later - if he bothered to ask them at all.

When a Groundbridge opened the Autobots and their human companions did not think to pause, Megatron scooping up Dana and Agent Fowler without a second thought and darting into the portal, Chromia glaring at Blastwave's ship before following.

Gamma slid down a sand dune to take cover, cursing as some sand gets into his shoes and pants, but he worked as quickly as possible to make himself scarce, hunkering down as the Cybertronian ship swooshed out of sight, heading to the stars. He counted several beats, waiting for any sign of any Cybertronian activity, before slowly pulling out his radio to call for help. He paused when the unmistakable sound of a Groundbridge fired up, however it was only open for a moment before it closed again.

Megatron knew something was wrong the moment he stepped out of the portal, his grip on the humans subconsciously tightening when he was met with a row of energon cells, and the barrel of a canon pointed at him.

"Scrap!" Dana and Agent Fowler screeched when the gladiator deftly avoided the first blast, leaping backward as Blastwave attempted to hit him again.

"Hey!" Chromia lept out of the Groundbridge, tackling her fellow Autobot to the floor of his ship, Blastwave grunting in annoyance. He tussled with her, snarling and punching at the armor, yet much to his surprise the blows did not knock her down.

Meanwhile, his quarry set the humans in a hidden location, turning around and wincing as he began to notice the growing pain in his abdomen, right where the grenade had hit him. Looking down, he noticed a small leak of energon, likely from where he strained it, and a notification popped up shortly after, telling him he was running low.

"Blastwave, listen to me," Chromia hissed as she took another punch to the face, trying to hold the much bigger Autobot down. "Megatron is not our enemy! He is here, to protect Earth, the planet we're on. He is on our side - "

The bounty hunter managed to grab a hold of her armor and toss her aside, the femme grunting when she hit one of the cells. He made a dismissive gesture with his servo, one Dana recognized almost immediately as "out of my way."

Did he just use sign language? She looked at the Cybertronian quizzically.

Chromia got to her feet, clenching her fists. "Blastwave, stop!"

Megatron faced the bounty hunter, standing tall and proud, the two of them sizing one another up. The warlord's right fist curled up, preparing to deploy his blade should he require it. There was a tense moment of silence as they both waited for the other to attack first, the Decepticon tensing when the Autobot reached to activate his Light Bender.

"Wait!" Dana popped out of her hiding spot, Agent Fowler hissing and reaching to grab her, but she evaded his grip. "Wait! We're friends. Friends." She signed hurriedly, waving her arms dramatically so the titan could see. She was unsure how Cybertronian and American Sign Language would translate, but it was obvious the bounty hunter could hear and possibly understand English, so as long as he could put two and two together, the mistranslating could be minimized.

Blastwave paused, looking at her with an odd expression. He had not encountered native lifeforms before, and she was much too small to be any kind of Cybertronian creation. His optics followed her movements, taking in each detail carefully. Megatron's first instinct was to seize them moment and subdue the Autobot, but another, more reasonable voice told him to let Dana talk her way through this.

She seemed to be rather adept at taming Cybertronians.

"Megatron is not here to harm us," she spoke, still signing, though she had to pause to spell his name, her fingers occasionally tripping over one another. "He has joined the Autobot team. I know he has a bounty on his head, but he is not our enemy anymore. He's not your enemy."

Tilting his head, the Autobot bounty hunter relaxed ever so slightly, seemingly pleased to find someone else who understood him, who could speak to him. Megatron watched as he slowly signed back, hand movements just as exaggerated.

"Yes," she confirmed the silent question. "Chromia and Ratchet are with us. Soundwave is another Decepticon that has joined us, because he is loyal to Megatron." That sentence took longer than expected to sign with all those names. "But . . . I do not know where Soundwave went. Or Laserbeak. His Minicon."

Chromia had to give it to the girl, she was one pit of a communicator. Blastwave was becoming less hostile by the second, though his apprehension remained. He signed to her again, and though it took her a moment to recognize a particular gesture she did not know, she understood.

"There are humans here, under an organization called M.E.C.H, that use Cybertronian technology for their own evil gains. Lockdown, another bounty hunter, is with them," her brow furrowed. "I hope they did not catch Soundwave."

Megatron bared his denta a little at that. If those butchers had managed to get a hold of his most loyal follower, and closest friend, he would lay waste to their facilities. He almost wished he had grabbed the human threatening Dana; if he was a part of that organization, Megatron would have found a way to get that information out of him.

Blastwave's mouth twisted a little, thinking before he signed.

Dana bit the inside of her cheek, then nodded. "Yes. He means a lot to me, Blastwave. They all do. I would fight just as hard for them as they have done for me in their times of trouble. Protecting them is important to me, because they too need someone to have their backs. It is not easy, being human, but I am doing the best I can. And I promise I would do the same for you."

Megatron raised an optic ridge. Was she offering him a place amongst their ranks?

"And in the end, if you want to go off on your own again, it is completely understandable." She continued. "You are not bound to stay with us; freewill is probably the most important aspect of all with this team. We could use you, your ship, and your technology. But you have every right to chose whether or not to help us. As a liason for human and Cybertronian interactions, that I can promise you."

Agent Fowler was slightly annoyed that she had - somewhat - lied about her title, but by the way things were going, he was not going to complain.

When she finished her final sign, Blastwave thought for a long, hard moment. His optics drifted up to Megatron, a prize which would pay big money, to Chromia, a fellow Autobot that would do anything to protect who was once her sworn enemy. And that human, with her wild arms and desperate expression, asking for him to spare her friends, yet allowing him to walk away should he give her his help, wanting nothing more in return.

After a tense moment, he nodded, signing again.

She smiled a little, relieved. "Let's contact base, then," she said. "And find our missing comrade."

»«

"How do I know you did not divulge anything to the enemy?" Alpha asked carefully, stalking around Gamma like a hungry wolf. "That you did not share our otherwise secret location? Or perhaps offered to spy for them?"

He stared straight ahead, his mask off, allowing her to see if there was any fear in his eyes. "If I had given them my location, I would not have returned here to get caught up in the crossfire," he reasoned. "As for spying . . . I have no way to contact them. No new numbers are listed in my phone, no new frequency dialed into my radio. I still have a tracker in my car. If I was spying, I would be caught immediately."

Alpha grinned just a little, loving this game. "Why return here, Gamma?" She purred. "We clearly are doing illegal operations, something I'm sure your conscience has trouble dealing with. If you sold us out, I guarantee you would be offered immunity from such things. So, why come back?"

"I am loyal to the cause," he answered. "More than you give me credit for."

She laughed, running her pink nails through his hair. "Someone has become rather . . . flippant." The woman circled back around to his front, gazing at him. "My firing squad will be disappointed, they were rather eager for a traitor to return. But you clearly are not one to sell out your friends, leader. I'm quite proud of you."

He nodded a little, looking towards the floor. A few unhappy whispers sounded from behind him, and he heard the shouldering of rifles as the squad begrudgingly took their sights off of him.

"Beta," Alpha gestured. "Let us continue operations."

Gamma made to step forward, certain that the death of his comrade - due to the malicious swipe of the Cybertronian - had upgraded his position, but much to his surprise another M.E.C.H member moved the same time he did.

"Oh?" Alpha looked at him, grinning like a shark. "Did you think you had moved up, Gamma?"

The name suddenly had a sting to it, his teeth scraping against his lip as he spoke. "The former Beta is dead . . ." he said slowly. "I should have moved up in rank."

"Perhaps, but I thought you were unloyal to our cause. So, Eta actually took your place. She has the qualities of a second in command I was looking for," Alpha tilted her head, red lips twisted in a smile. "And I really don't think a shift in position is necessary. Unless . . . you want to challenge her?"

Gamma went still, his fist clenching and unclenching as he thought. To challenge a superior officer -

Alpha laughed cruelly. "Oh, you wouldn't challenge her even if you wanted to. You're too soft, too . . . empathetic." She stepped toward him, pulling the pistol from her side and offering it to him. It did not take a genius to know it was fully loaded, and her intentions for him should he take it. "Go ahead, shoot her, Gamma." When Beta made to move Alpha waved her hand. "Don't bother. He won't shoot you. Will you, Gamma?"

He stared at the gun in his hand, felt the weight of it in his palm. Before, he had the safety on, as to keep himself from accidentally hurting the girl, his hostage. Now, the safety was off, and he was meant to kill one of his comrades. To challenge was to take over their position; and there were only two ways to do it, but unfortunately a lower ranking officer could not downgrade the rank of a superior.

The M.E.C.H leader laughed again. "I thought so," she extended her arm out, asking for the gun.

Gamma looked up at her, into her sunglasses, staring at his reflection. He saw a coward.

Drawing up the gun he pointed it straight at Beta, the woman's expression freezing and falling in the half second she realized what was happening, and he pulled the trigger. The gun kicked hard that he expected, sending a shockwave down his arm and into his chest as her body fell with finality to the ground, leaving no one but Alpha above him.

Silence extended throughout the facility, leaking across the main hanger. Alpha looked at him with a geniunely shocked expression, then slowly began to clap her hands as a grin spread across her face.

"Well, well, well," she pulled back her lips to reveal white, glittering teeth. "It seems you have more to you than what meets the eye, Beta. But, do not surprise me like that again."

The man looked at the bleeding remains of his predecessor, nodding slowly as he handed the gun back to his superior.

"I understand," he replied lowly.