Chapter Text
As the smoke in the cutter's cockpit cleared, Smokescreen scanned the control board in front of him. It didn't look good: main engine was out, right rear thruster was damaged, and their shielding was wavering somewhere between 'barely working' and 'inoperable.' Never mind the long-range sensors that were throwing up ghosts, and the communication systems that were only connecting to static.
"Well, that got unexpectedly messy," Devcon said, working his own side of the controls with the focus Smokescreen had come to expect of him. "We were set up, you know."
Smokescreen shook his helm immediately. "No way. The plan came straight from Prowl, and I helped with the analysis. It was a straight in-and-out, with no complicating factors or expected issues. Prowl gave it a 91% chance of success, I calculated it to be 98%." He glowered at the controls as he tried to stabilize the ship's lazy spin with their remaining thrusters. "Something must have changed between when we collected the intelligence and now."
Devcon's non-committal grunt was almost worse than an angry retort.
The asteroid and its previously hidden base drifted into view as the craft continued its spin. Smokescreen peered through the front window, watching for any sign of pursuit. But the only lights he could see were the faint glow of flames in one of the asteroid's craters, all that was left of the Decepticon communication post. "Why would they rig their own base to explode?" he asked, gesturing towards the crater. "That doesn't make sense."
"It makes sense if the base was meant as bait for a couple of Autobots intent on stealing some Decepticon ciphers," Devcon said. Smokescreen didn't know Devcon very well, but the firm stabs of his fingers into the control panel were evidence of his simmering anger. "Ciphers which weren't even in the base's systems, I might add."
"Something must have changed," Smokescreen muttered again, turning his attention back to the controls.
A full minute passed before Devcon spoke again. "I've seen this before." When Smokescreen looked over at him, the other Autobot was still focused on the controls. "They leak a rumour that some high-value information is available at a specific location, knowing that Autobot High Command is desperate enough for that info that they send a team to collect it. Then the Decepticons spring the trap when the team arrives." Devcon finally threw Smokescreen a glance. "You said yourself the base's systems were wiped practically clean. There wasn't nearly enough crew for a base that size, and the 'Cons who were staffing it looked like they hadn't seen maintenance in ages. Not to mention that the equipment was running on backup systems. It had already been stripped for parts." He looked back down at the controls. "It was a trap, and we walked right into it."
"Well, the trap didn't catch us," Smokescreen said. He ran his fingers across his board one more time, then smiled. "And good news... I think I can reroute some things to get the main engine working again. We won't be gate-capable, but we should be able to limp our way to the Rotan Trade Station in a month or so." He spun around to the engineering console. "Give me a minute or so, and-"
"Wait." Devcon snapped out a warning, freezing Smokescreen's fingers in place. When Smokescreen looked back at him, he saw that the blue bot was frowning at the sensor readings.
"What is it?" Smokescreen asked, leaning over to peer at the readings. Wisps of data flashed across the screen, showing something that might have been a ship, before it vanished into a fog of sensor ghosts again.
"I'm not sure. It looked like..." Devcon tapped again on the control panel, refining and clarifying the readings, but the shreds of information would not resolve into anything more coherent.
"It looked like what?" Smokescreen said, disquiet making his haptic net tingle.
The cutter's spin had finally turned it so that the front window now looked out into the blackness of space, away from the asteroid and the system's distant star. Devcon stared out the window intently, his optics narrowing and his frown deepening.
Smokescreen stared, too, trying to see what Devcon was looking for. He thought he caught a flicker as something passed between them and a couple of distant stars, but it might have been his imagination. However, he knew that Devcon had much more acute visual sensors than he did. "What do you see?" he asked.
Devcon didn't reply. Instead, he launched himself from his seat and flew across the cockpit, pulling open the panel to access the cutter's main relays. Without a word, he started indiscriminately ripping connections out, stretching wires and snapping delicate relays in his haste.
"Hey!" Smokescreen yelled, jumping up to grab at Devcon's shoulder. When the larger bot shook him off, Smokescreen's engine snarled in frustration. "What are you doing? We don't have enough spare parts to fix all that! Stop, or-" The lights in the cockpit flickered and then went out. The low hum of the cutter's systems faded and went silent, and everything that was not clamped down started slowly floating into the air, including the two mechs. Smokescreen threw his hands in the air with an exclamation, causing him to list to the side as he floated upwards. "Or that will happen. Great. Fragging great. Now will you tell me what you're-"
Devcon turned and grabbed Smokescreen, pulling him close and clamping a hand over his mouth. "Be quiet," Devcon said softly. "Stay away from the window. They might see our biolights and optics." He gestured towards the front window of the cutter. "That was the fastest way to shut everything down. We need to play dead. We need them to think we're just debris from the base."
Smokescreen stared into Devcon's blue optics, but the only thing he could see in them was an echo of the warning he'd just given. Smokescreen nodded to show his obedience. When Devcon removed his hand from Smokescreen's mouth, Smokescreen quietly asked, "Who is it?"
They'd floated further back in the cockpit, away from the window. Devcon stole a quick glance at the front window of the cutter, then pushed himself off of the ceiling. They floated towards the floor together, and Devcon nestled them both behind one of the passenger seats.
"I've seen that ship once before," Devcon said in a whisper. "It's the Peaceful Tyranny."
Smokescreen's engine made a squeal before he could stop it. "The DJD is here?" he asked. Smokescreen had read enough reports of the aftermath of attacks from the Decepticon Justice Division that he'd prayed he'd never encounter them in person. So far, he'd been lucky.
Smokescreen closed his optics and prayed that his luck had not just run out.