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Pharma watched in silence, optics focused on the screen before him, as the cell doors deactivated one by one, their electrical energy dissipating with an audible zip.
The imprisoned mech on the screen stared and gaped in amazement, slowly and unsurely rising to his pedes, a single hand clutching the wall he'd been seated against. He appeared hopeful, but cautious. Pharma made a quick note on the data pad in his lap concerning the mech's mannerisms, such as his stance and movement speed, then quickly turned his optics back to the screen.
The mech was called Sidewire. A former con turned traitor when he'd dared to continue following a false order from Megatron (now also a traitor) to stand down. Tarn had had a fitting punishment in mind for the traitor, but had understandably switched plans when Pharma had presented him with the Red Rust virus. He'd always had a mild interest in virology but he'd never really done anything with the knowledge before now, always having his ideas looked down upon before he'd left the Institute. After waking up from recharge one night aboard the Tyranny, covered in coolant, the idea of the virus had merely popped in to his helm.
If one were to cause a cross contamination of the internal fluids...destroy a Cybertronian's anti-rusting agents...he'd hurried to a desk to feverishly write down multiple formulas, including that of an antidote. A vaccine could come later once enough had been infected. He'd written like a mech possessed, feeling as though something or someone had taken a hold of his hand. It was almost as if he'd done this before...
Now seated at a large table in what could only be described as their briefing room, Tarn had finally given the order to deal with the Red Rust-infected Sidewire.
Tarn stood before the screen, his back to the table. Pharma was seated at the exact opposite end while the four others, Kaon, Vos, Helex, and Tesarus, took up residence on the sides.
Pharma slyly turned his optics over to Tarn, his view easily hidden behind his data pad as he pulled it closer to his face plate. Tarn certainly cut a striking image with that unwavering stance, exuding confidence and fortitude as he stood there. Ever since that time in the medibay, he'd found himself sneaking glances like this whenever he could. What he'd said then wasn't a lie -- he didn't want anyone assuming he'd gotten where he was by interfacing with his division leader. But at the same time, he did like Tarn...perhaps a little too much.
But right now, he needed to stay focused. The idea of 'them' would have to wait for now.
Nothing interfered with the Cause.
Back on the screen, Sidewire continued to pause, obviously uncertain of whether to wait for one of his captors to appear in the doorway to the room or if he should attempt to force the door open and try to leave. With only his cell open, the mech was still trapped within the confines of the cell area.
It didn't matter what the traitor had planned though. It had already been decided for him.
Tarn's booming voice resounded over the ship's comms, "Sidewire."
The green mech jumped at the mention of his own designation and looked slightly upwards, as if the masked face of the leader of the Decepticon Justice Division would sudden appear in the metallic ceiling. The speaker box, through which Tarn's voice was projected, was hidden away in a corner of the room, unnoticed.
"Tarn!" The mech said, his voice pleading but otherwise normal, "Mercy! I'm...I'm still loyal! I was just following orders...Megatron's orders!" The mech tacked on as if that last little tidbit would save him.
"Megatron is a traitor. He is no longer leader, and therefore, that order is invalid. And yet...you sought to take refuge, to hide yourself away while the fighting continues." Tarn said, aptly moving his arms around in grand gestures before finally clenching one hand into a fist as if to punctuate his point, as if the imprisoned former con could see his actions.
"Oh slag..." the voice was a tiny whisper, filled with dread, barely heard over the speakers.
"But," Tarn began, unclenching his fist, "I am not without understanding. I am prepared to give you exactly what you wanted. Right now, the Peaceful Tyranny is docked on an uninhabited planet suited to support Cybertronian life. If you successfully manage to hide and evade my Division for one solar hour, you will have your freedom. You'll even be granted a head start."
Pharma felt a shiver run down his spinal strut although he wasn't sure why. His internal temperature was fine.
The green mech muttered, hands clasping together in praise as he held them over his helm, "Th-thank you! Yeah, I'll disappear! I promise you won't hear from me again, Tarn! That's what you want, right?"
Tarn flicked a switch on the control panel before him, underneath the large monitor, silencing the two way communication.
"Open the door for him." Tarn said to no one in particular.
The former scientist who spoke only in primal vernacular, codenamed as Vos, hissed a complicated amalgam of syllables at the con who sat across from him.
"I heard him," replied the red con, rapidly pressing a serious of buttons on his terminal. On his shoulders were two appropriately sized electric coils, both giving off a faint trace of electrical energy. As the only member of the Division without optics, Pharma supposed Kaon had picked up other methods of emoting to make up for this.
With a resounding clunk, the tumblers released, and the big, metallic door swung open. Given it's size, it was more like an entire wall had opened up. Then again, Pharma supposed that this was a necessity given the size of their two largest members. Helex was taller than Tarn, and Tesarus towered over them both. Helex was bulky, had two sets of arms, and a bad attitude; Pharma didn't have much love for the brash and loud-mouthed smelter but he figured that no one ever liked all their coworkers. Tesarus, on the other hand, wasn't as aggressive but was prone to fits of boredom. The largest con's alt mode was that of a grinder, and although they got along decently, he still chafed whenever Pharma ordered a medical inspection.
The sound of squealing tires brought Pharma's attention away from his coworkers and back to the screen. Only a small bit of smoke remained from where Sidewire had transformed in to his vehicle mode. His tires left noticeable black marks on the flooring.
It wasn't long before the rushing woosh of his alt mode speeding past the briefing room door was heard.
"Release the gangplank." Tarn said, finally turning around to face the division again and Pharma sat up in his seat a little straighter.
Kaon wordlessly followed the command as he punched more inputs in to his terminal.
There was no visual feed or any kind of tell tale sign to accompany the action so Kaon muttered, "It's done."
Suddenly, with all the finesse of a tire exploding, Helex slammed his large, navy-colored hands on to the table, "A whole solar hour?! What the scrap, Tarn? We should have just 'tooken' care of him here."
"It's 'taken', you lugnut." Pharma murmured under his breath, pretending to fiddle with his datapad.
The insult unfortunately was not ignored.
"Oh, you got something to say, doc?"
Pharma's optics shot over to the con; the lines running from underneath Helex's optics were beginning to glow bright with rage, "This is an uninhabited world. It's not like he can go anywhere."
"Not the point. Why are we doing this, Tarn?" Helex roared, "Never done this before so what gives?"
"Patience, Helex. There is a method to the madness." Tarn said, resuming his own seat at the head of the table. They'd previously had a circular table, a sign that meant all were equal, but with Megatron's defection, Tarn had the table swapped for a larger, rectangular design. He had explained it was meant to accommodate the addition of the doctor, but it also marked him as the unquestionable leader of the DJD now.
"The good doctor has presented us with a new method of torture and I am as eager as he is to try it out." Tarn explained, gesturing a hand towards the doctor still seated at the opposite end of the table, "Pharma, I'll let you take over the briefing."
Pharma smiled behind his data pad. He'd been prepared for Tarn to take point and explain to the division about the dangers of Red Rust, but...the doctor felt as though his circuits were swelling with pride. Tarn trusted him, saw him, acknowledged him...it felt...exhilarating.
"Of course," Pharma replied, standing from his seat before moving the backless chair off to the side. He shot a quick glance at Helex who continued to fuss, throwing his large body back against his chair as he crossed both sets of arms.
Projecting the image from the data pad, Pharma began, "I've created a virus -- Red Rust."
Sidewire's head start, all 15 kliks of it, ceased as soon as briefing was over.
The Decepticon Justice Division had gathered outside, standing rank and file to either side of Tarn; Kaon and Vos to Tarn's right, and Pharma, Helex, and Tesarus to his left.
"Remember what the good doctor has told you." Tarn warned, his tone flat despite his grim warning.
"Tarn, you want us to track him down by pede? I could easily find him through thermals." Kaon urged, stepping out of formation and turning towards Tarn, his hand firmly holding the chain lease of The Pet. Pharma couldn't help but roll his optics; if anyone had the advantage in a mech hunt, it was the mech holding the leash of a partially tamed Sparkeater.
"Yeah, seems like a waste of time to me. I get the doc wants to try out this new...thing, but..." Tesarus echoed, crossing his massive arms.
Vos garbled a series of growling hisses.
"Yeah!" Helex roared, "And not all of us can fly!" The smelter said, jabbing a digit in Pharma's direction as he quite literally pointed out the medic's unfair advantage. Tracking down the traitor wouldn't prove nearly as difficult with an "eye in the sky", and it was very likely that Pharma would undoubtedly find Sidewire first.
"Enough." Tarn said calmly as his voice boomed, the special outlier power he possessed lacing the single worded command. The entirety of the group, Pharma included, felt a twinge of pain through their sparks.
"The doctor and I will not use our alt modes, and to avoid the risk of infection further, no one else will either. The planet is small and desolate; his hiding places are limited." Tarn began, folding his arms behind his back. He had expected a bit of resistance, if only due to the differing method.
"Besides, the good doctor has provided us with the means to win this war, once and for all. We shouldn't squander an opportunity to test this asset. But if you're adamant...the first to find and dispatch him can name their prize."
This had the division quite interested, their attitudes noticeably shifting as they considered the prospect. It went without saying that Tarn would accommodate as long as the request was in his power to do so, but even something as simple as a mega-cycle of no paperwork would an acceptable prize.
"However," Tarn piped back up, "should he succumb to the virus first, the win will go to the doctor."
"Like hell," Helex grumbled, cracking the joints on his larger set of hands.
The quartet of cons quickly began discussing their plans and destinations amongst themselves. When it seemed as if they were ready to leave, Pharma quickly tacked on,
"Remember not to touch him; the infection is spread through contact with internal fluids. Try to avoid a fight if you can. By now the virus should be taking its toll on Sidewire, but he could still be able to fight back."
The group gave a low grumble of affirmation as they split up in to groups of two, an attempt to cover more ground at the start. Tesarus left with Vos riding on his shoulders, and Kaon and Helex stormed off in the opposite direction.
Pharma glanced at Tarn, an unspoken question of teaming up lingering on his derma but was more than likely reflecting in his optics.
Tarn said nothing, merely cupped the doctor's chin, lingered there a moment, thumb digit slowly moving over the plating, before turning to leave on his own.
Pharma felt like he'd been walking for hours. As a flight frame, he admittedly didn't bother walking long distances, and the ache in his joints was clear proof of that. But he had to be careful. He had to stay vigilant. He had to find Sidewire and make sure the virus took care of him first. Tarn was expecting this of him. The tank hadn't said so in words, but that final parting had told Pharma all he needed to know.
Find this traitor and take care of him. I trust you to do this.
Pharma didn't peg Sidewire as a genius, but it was still possible for the traitor to slip out of the shadows somewhere and attack him. If he was smarter than the doctor had planned for, the con might even try to weaponize his leaking fluids.
If even a single drop of his infected energon touched Pharma, it would be over. He had high hopes for his antidote, but it wasn't a sure thing yet. Tarn had promised him more test subjects to practice the antidote on in the future, but Sidewire had to be dealt with first. Still, as long as he didn't transform, the virus's symptoms would not activate. It was the failsafe he'd concocted in case their Division or other cons were accidentally infected. The only real issue was Tarn...with his transformation addiction, he was the most at risk.
Pharma bit his bottom derma in worry...what if Tarn found Sidewire first? What if the traitor attacked him and Tarn became infected? It made his chassis ache at the thought. Once they returned, he would devote himself fully to working on the antidote, even if he had to infect himself to do it.
The doctor traipsed through a small forested area, not unlike a jungle. The trees were taller than he was and the brush was thick and dense; a clear sign that no life had passed through this way in some time.
Pharma cursed as his pede snagged on a large vine, nearly sending him toppling over. If he could just use his alt mode, this would have been over with quickly. Still, Tarn had told the others that neither he nor Pharma would use their alt modes, and Pharma didn't dare disobey. Obviously he had no reason to go against Tarn, and he didn't want the others holding it against him if they caught flying overheard.
As he exited the jungle-like area, for the first time in mega-kliks, he could make out a small clearing up ahead. It appeared to be some kind of small settlement, or what was left of one as the buildings appeared to be crumbling. Whatever race had once lived on this planet had obviously been as big as a Cybertronian but much more primitive.
As he walked the path forward, he could see the buildings were made out of rock and other natural elements. There wasn't a sign of anything mechanical for miles around.
Pausing to listen, Pharma took the time to survey the area. The clearing was out in the open but there would be plenty of places to hide within the settlement's walls. It seemed as good a place to look as any; he just hoped none of the others were lingering around here. Tarn being the exception, of course.
Pharma had begun inching closer to the settlement when he immediately drew his pede backward, nearly toppling over for the second time that day.
There, on the ground, was a puddle of rusty red liquid.
From far off, it had seemed more like a mud puddle, but up close he recognized it immediately. Heaving a sigh of relief, he quickly made sure to side-step the puddle. He had a vial of antidote on him, but could it actually cure him if he got infected? It was a scary thought, but he just had to keep reminding himself that as long as he didn't transform he was fine.
Thankfully, he hadn't stepped in it, and he'd found a lead, so he supposed there was a silver living in all this.
As he breeched the settlements walls, a crumbling array of low stones, Pharma spied more puddles on the ground that inevitably made a perfect trail. They went forward and around a corner.
For a brief moment, he thought to call for back up but decided against it. Tarn had made the challenge clear and, if he were being honest, he did want to win. Badly. It would put the others in their place, maybe even mark him as worthy in their optics. Maybe then he'd finally get the respect he deserved without Tarn's usual assistance.
As for his prize...what did he want? Tarn didn't usually do, well, any of this when hunting down a single traitor. It was easy to say this was in the name of testing Red Rust, but Pharma felt there was more to it than that. It felt more like a test of his own mettle, his drive. He was naturally competitive, after all, even if he claimed he wasn't. Securing victory here meant that Tarn had essentially given him an open invitation.
He had already been promised a room of his own in the future. He had plenty in the way of rations and things to entertainment himself with; there wasn't much call for entertainment while he'd been busy with Red Rust anyways. But...time alone with Tarn...that was a worthy prize.
With that thought driving him, he pushed onward. Being a jet, he'd always had a tall frame, but did his best to slowly creep forward and around the corner. The trail went inside of a rocky home, probably the best looking one of the bunch. Now the only problem remained was if Sidewire was waiting for him. With this much leakage it was unlikely the traitor had been able to set up an ambush. Then again, if he'd done it before he began leaking...
Pharma transformed his hand in to a chainsaw as he headed for the door. It was a chance he was going to have to take.
He'd only taken a few steps in to the structure, careful to avoid the rust puddles on the floor, when a voice caught him by surprise.
"A doctor with chainsaws for hands...that's stupid."
Turning on a dime, weaponized hand at the ready, Pharma quickly relaxed when he realized who'd spoken.
It was Sidewire. The traitor was leaned up against a back wall, veritably leaking sticky rusty, red fluids all over himself and the ground.
Palming his chainsaw below the blade, Pharma couldn't help but smirk, "Stupid? They're quite...clever...actually..." His voice had started out strong, confident, but quickly faded in to uncertainty as he trailed off. Odd, he felt like he'd said that before...not to Sidewire specifically but to someone somewhere.
"No, it's stupid..." Sidewire huffed, his breathing heavy as he gushed more fluids from his frame with each intake of air, "Supposed to...heal...not hurt..."
Pharma's confusion vanished instantly, "Yes, but not to traitors. Now, before you rust from the inside out, tell me...how does it feel? Can you taste your optics at all? You know, there on the back of your glossa? And please, spare no detail, this is for research purposes." It seemed cruel because it was cruel, but Sidewire was a traitor. Mercy was not shown to traitors, and it was a line of thought that not even his medical coding could argue with.
Sidewire's frame shuddered, fans whirring on and off spontaneously as his engine revved at odd intervals. Not exactly the answer he'd been expecting, but Pharma supposed he'd make a mental note of that as well.
"You don't...seem like a...con..."
Pharma paused before transforming his weaponized hand back to his original blue digits, "Well I am. Unlike you, I'm loyal to the Cause. I belong here."
Sidewire's frame moved again and Pharma realized that the traitor had been attempting to laugh.
"How...long?"
Pharma gave a grunting laugh of his own, the noise coming out as a 'hmph', "Long enough." What was this traitor trying to do? Trick him? What good would that knowledge do him?
"No room...on the ship..." Sidewire murmured. Ugly red-brown patches of rust were beginning to take over his paint, slowly swallowing the dark green color.
No room? On the ship? What on earth was he blabbering about? Perhaps the infected suffered from mild delusions? That definitely would require more testing as it hadn't been an intended consequence.
Still, Pharma worked the sentence over in his mind. Was he referring to Pharma and his lack of a habsuite on the ship? It wasn't that big of a deal. The Tyranny had been commissioned as a 5-mech vessel, and Tarn had only advocated for a medic for the team after the ship had been built and put in to use.
"Long enough...but no room? Doesn't add up..." Sidewire muttered and Pharma wasn't sure whether he was being addressed or if the traitor was talking to himself.
Pharma felt an unpleasant tingling sensation beginning to rise in the back of his mind. It was the tell-tale sign of a headache coming on. The more he tried to focus, the worse his headaches became. It would be simple enough to take one of the pills Lobe had prescribed for him but he'd left them in the medibay back on the Tyranny, believing that he'd have no need for them for this task.
Still, his mind wouldn't cease. Through the small sensation of pinpricks against his brain module, his mind chased one train of thought. If he had been the DJD's medic for some time now (how long had it been exactly?), then why didn't he have a habsuite of his own? Did the dates add up? Why couldn't he remember when he started working for the DJD? Why did it seem like parts were missing? Was Sidewire just getting to him? What was happening to him?!
Pharma grabbed at his helm with both hands. The pain was unbearable! It was like his helm was splitting in two! It felt like a live wire had been laid right across his brain module. It was so painful, he couldn't stop the scream that came from his intake.
And suddenly...the pain was gone.
Pharma opened his optics, having shuttered them out of reaction to the pain, and realized he was no longer in the crumbling stone house. Sidewire was nowhere to be seen. The sounds of nature, the wind, the trees rustling...everything had gone completely still and silent. The world had seemingly gone completely black and white.
For a moment, Pharma feared he'd passed out. Perhaps the pain had offlined him and he was unconscious, stuck in some odd dreamscape. How else could he explain this sudden change of scenery?
The crumbling house made of stone and mud had been replaced with greyish walls and matching tiled floors. He wasn't in an entrance way but instead a long hallway that stretched out before him as much as it did behind.
Turning to look behind him, a sudden flash of gray bumped in to him and pushed him aside. Regaining his balance quickly, Pharma looked to see the figure of two bots soundlessly pushing a gurney down the hallway. They appeared to be making attempts to stabilize a patient.
The one at the head of the gurney turned around and looked at him. He appeared to be saying something but the face mask he wore shielded his derma entirely, making it impossible for Pharma to even guess at what he was saying. Despite this, the doctor had an overwhelmingly strong feeling that the bot was yelling at him, maybe...telling him to follow?
He did seem vaguely familiar but Pharma couldn't put his finger on why...the other bot who continued to keep his back to Pharma also seemed familiar.
And now that he thought it, even this gray hallway seemed familiar. Pharma couldn't say why. No matter how much he thought about it, tried to place it, the answer eluded him. But...he had been here before. He couldn't discern much but he had been here at some time point in time.
Was this a memory? A memory from a long time ago?
Eventually, the two bots rounded a corner without another care for him and disappeared. Should he follow like the first bot had wanted? Could he even follow after them? Where was here anyways?
Pharma grabbed at his helm as the pain suddenly returned full force.
"Ah, slag!"
With a start, Pharma jolted.
The sound had brought him back to reality. The grey hallway was gone, and sound flooded his audials once more. The pain was gone.
"Slag it...the doc got to him first."
Looking around, Pharma found he was back in the crumbling stone house with Helex and Kaon just outside the door way with the taller of the two brutes leaning down on a knee joint to look through the door.
Focusing his optics forward, he saw Sidewire. The con was completely rusted over from the inside out.
It was then that Pharma had another realization, another instance of familiarity washing over him, as if he'd been in this exact situation before.
He could have saved Sidewire.
It was entirely within his power to do so; the antidote was still securely in his subspace.
Instead, he had let Sidewire slip away, watched it all, and ultimately had done nothing to stop it...all for his and Tarn's sake.