A/N: I... am not dead, and neither is the story. I would like to thank those late-coming reviewers who asked for continuation and mobilized me to dig up my story notes, and that one anonymous commenter on live journal, who kept prodding and poking me, and who wouldn't go away until I got my lazy rear in gear and delivered. Thank you, persistent anonymous person! :D (BTW, LJ seems to be still having problems, as it does something really strange to any text I try to post, so I won't be uploading this chapter there until that's resolved.) And now, I sheepishly present the horribly delayed...

Chapter 5
Technology

-5-

-5-

The second star to the right and straight on till four millions years ago...

The destruction of solar tower would be the final blow to shatter the Autobots' already crumbling morale, Soundwave assured his leader. They had been making pests of themselves so far, crawling around the place, trying to mine for resources, interfering with Megatron's own power-harvesting endeavors, and taking random pot-shots at his warriors. They even had the gall to steal the technology of creating energon cubes. It cost them a life of their spy, but they put the stolen data to good use - or so they thought. They cannibalized the Ark for parts to build a solar tower, as if they forgot that no amount of heroism and positive attitude could help them defend the construction against a war spacecraft lurking hidden above the blue sky. Megatron smirked lazily, watching the targeting screen. He'd called his troops to witness the destruction of Autobots' last hope. Strangely enough, it was the Constructicons, not Starscream, who dared to question his plan this time, but they were quickly put in their place, and a single shot from the Nemesis's main weapon was fired. Few breems later Astrotrain touched down next to the Ark. Megatron disembarked and with great satisfaction surveyed the smoking crater. Just to add an insult to injury, he unsubspaced a severed head of the Autobot spy and tossed the trophy in the pit, to rest among the remains of the tower and its operators. Then he turned to the Ark. "You have no chance of winning, Optimus Prime!" he called. "Surrender, and I might even allow some of your troops to live, if they prove useful to me!"

None of the Autobots surrendered. Megatron kept few of them alive anyway, stashed in stasis boxes for later use. The rest, he obliterated. Then he filled the Nemesis to the brim with energon cubes, turned it around and went back home.

The starved Cybertron welcomed him with open arms.

The second of Mondern, beginning of the second shift

It was inevitable that Grapple would be drawn to the most impressive piece of engineering art in the vicinity, Hoist thought, watching his friend fondly. He was glad to see that the crane was more interested in the construct than bitter about it.

Although Hoist wouldn't dream of saying so aloud, he'd been... seriously angry with Optimus, when the Autobot leader vetoed Grapple's solar tower project. It's been a splendid project; it would have provided the Autobots with energy in abundance, and make them independent of human governments whims. But Optimus said that they didn't have resources to build and defend it, and it would be too dangerous if it fell in Decepticons hands. On that pretense the project was dropped, which indirectly led to this whole mess with the Constructicons. Grapple got in trouble, while Optimus got to once again play the benevolent leader who forgives and forgets.

And not even a week later, Wheeljack got both permission AND resources to build a highly dangerous weapon under so meager as to be non-existent protection of human military base. Grapple's involvement in this project? Why, he'd been called to build a bunker for the token Autobot guard-unit to be stationed in.

It was like a slap to the face, and ever since Grapple was slowly drifting into depression. All his little pet projects sat unattended on their shelves, gathering dust. The only times the engineer would be seen with tools in his hands was when he was ordered to build another this-or-other-temporary-construction-for-the-Decepticons-to-shoot-at. Next to Red Alert's spectacular malfunction, Grapple's quiet withdrawal went mostly unnoticed. But Hoist saw, and he worried. He tried quite a number of tactics to lift his friend's mood, but they all failed in the long term.
So it warmed Hoist's spark to see the excited gleam in Grapple's optics, as he scanned the structure towering over them, and pointed out particularly interesting design elements.

Unaware of his friend's musing, Grapple craned his neck and stretched his sensors to their limits to get a clearer reading of structure of the lowest solar panel.

"This is rather remarkable," he said, pointing out a part of design to Hoist. "I wouldn't have thought of it, but it might-"

"What are you punks staring at?"

Grapple started and turned to look at the bot who emerged from the power station to glare at them hostilely. He was a good deal shorter than Grapple, with orange detailing, spread over his pristine white paint in almost organic twisting coils. There were even fine orange lines swirling over his facial features, at the moment intensifying an angry snarl.
"Well?" The bot snapped.
"We were admiring the design," Grapple said, since it was in his circuits to say the truth when asked. And then his devotion for all things technical got the better of him.

"It is quite unusual solution, to use duranium conducts in transmitter contacts coupled with Phrener's breakers; I imagine it allows for higher transition rate, but doesn't it cause fluctuations in the current?"

The mech's posture lost the aggressive edge. "It does," he said slowly, looking them up and down. "And what would you suggest we do about it?"
Flabbergasted, Grapple stuttered a little. "Oh, I, I can't really say without a proper brief of the problem, but surely some kind of wire coating would improve stability? And it's possible that field overlapping of multiple system loops could help, if calculated correctly."

The strange mech looked mildly impressed. "You don't say," he said, giving the two Autobots a look that could only be described as calculating. "You're engineers?"

"Why, yes. Although Hoist's main line of work is medical maintenance," Grapple said.
"And Grapple's is architecture and semi-autonomic systems," Hoist supplied.
The mech's orange optics shone a bit brighter.
"Cute. You're looking for a job?"
"No," said Grapple.
"Yes," said Hoist.
The mech huffed. "Yes or no?"

"We could use some extra credits, but we aren't sure how long we will stay in the city," Hoist clarified, quickly flaring his EM field at his friend to let him know to be quiet. He'd always been the voice of reason in their tandem, and Sideswipe's example seemed worth following. (Although it was probably the sign of end of the world coming when it was Sideswipe of all mechs to set a good example). "If you have a use for our skills on short time basis, we'll be happy to provide"

"I think we can work out some deal. I'm Chipswitch, and don't try to be smart about it," Chipswitch said curtly and glared, as if daring them to be smart about it.

A little at a loss on how to react to that, Hoist nodded and said "Of course," which apparently was the right thing to do, as Chipswitch put his metaphorical hackles down and turned to the tower entrance. "Come on in," he said, coding the door open and waving them in.

-5-

The inside of solar tower took Grapple by surprise. He somehow expected it to look like the rough-and-ready, hastily assembled constructions he'd grown used to building on Earth - full of dented, sometimes rusted parts scavenged from older projects, with barely-there, thin wall paneling - bare alloys and all - meant only to cover, not to protect important systems, and with cables strewn all over the ceiling.

What he saw instead was what he should have expected in one of, if not the, most important buildings in a prosperous city: a well lit corridor with flawless, brightly painted walls and dark floor panels, covered with layer of a protective, translucent synthetic. They followed Chipswitch past a row of doors, behind which Grapple not so much heard, as felt a low hum of working machinery. It tugged at his EM field pleasantly, and almost made him want to skip down the corridor like a sparklet. He didn't, of course. But he smiled a very happy smile and kept smiling until the corridor opened to a vast lobby and he looked up. Then the smile was replaced with an expression of absolute awe.
The innermost part of the tower was hollow. Not all the way to top, perhaps - that would be structurally unsound - but still high enough that he couldn't see the ceiling. There was a ramp spiraling upwards along the walls, and countless number of walkways spanning the room at seemingly random intervals. It took Grapple a moment to realize that there were sealed doors at the end of every walkway and along the winding ramp. His optics shone.

"Impressive, huh?" Chipswitch said, rather pleased with the reaction. "You can access every part of the tower from here, even on foot if you're not flight-capable."
Except, of course, if there was an emergency requiring to seal off some part of the tower, but one had to draw a line when disclosing trade secrets to hired personnel, and Chipswitch drew it at revealing the details of security systems.

He transmitted a code that opened the door to design office and showed the two mech inside. "Wait here, won't you. I'll be back in a klik," he said, discretely making sure that all security cameras in the room were recording and all the consoles locked. Then he left, sealing the door behind him, and rushed to the personnel room.

He pulled up his organizer and reshuffled the tasks he'd planned for today, to give himself some time to supervise the two bots in between tasks which couldn't be moved to tomorrow.
He went to his locker and dug out his archived notes from the University and downloaded several files on a sketch-pad. He hesitated over a handful of trash-cards. He sifted through them, and settled on one that held 55 credits. It was a little over a half of his daily wage, and more than a fair pay for a shift-worth of consultations, in his opinion. From the a filing cabinet he pulled several legally binding sign-and-go forms, and a few blank ones.
Lastly, he grabbed a ten-pack of coolant from the personnel allotment, and, after some deliberation, he also retrieved two cubes of very nice, highly concentrated energon. They came from his very own stash, but he decided to think of it as an investment. If those two walking antics could help him provide a valid improvement plan for the energy output, his pay would skyrocket. It would be well worth it.

He was moving to leave the room, when he heard a faint clatter above him. It was all the warning he got before something landed on his head, ten multi-jointed legs digging in the crevices of his helmet crest. With a startled yelp Chipswitch flailed and instinctively subspaced all items he held to avoid dropping them.
The next moment a tiny face with a bright, crimson red optical band swung down to get right into his face.

"Yo, Chipper!"
"Rust it all, Rattle, don't do this!" Chipswitch made to swat the casseticon off himself, but the little fragger was already leaping away and on a nearby table. Once there, he stood on three pairs of legs, keeping the better part of his segmented body upright, and started making mocking, cluttering noises at Chipswitch. The white and orange mech scowled.

"You keep doing that, you little scrapyard refuse. Someday, someone will mistake you for a virus-ridden retro-rat mutant and shoot you. And I shall relish that day."
He unsubspaced a cleaning cloth and ostentatiously wiped traces of grease and energon residue off his helmet. The casseticon just snorted to show his utter disregard for the prediction
"Whatever, Switchy. Would you happen to know why there are two unauthorized mechs in 'authorized personnel only' area?"

"I'm hiring them for consultations, pest. Would you happen to have some work to do? Away from here?"
"A-huh." As per usual, Rattle completely ignored the hint. "And the bosses know about that hiring thing, right?"
"They will when I tell them. You can stop prying into my job and go back to yours now, thank you."

"Your recycle service, Mr. Shiny. Don't expect me to cover for you if they screw up anything." With a final haughty clatter, the casseticon transformed into his alt-mode, which Chipswitch liked to refer to as 'a flying ring of flashy annoyance', and flew away into one of maintenance ducts, loudly humming the 'Chipper and Switchy' theme song.
"I hate that show," Chipswitch murmured.

After a few moments of wandering around the spacious office and admiring the highly functional layout, Grapple and Hoist settled in a pair of chairs, which looked like they were designed just for them. (And were as comfy as they looked too). They took a moment to calculate the amount of time they could spend at the tower before they'd be due to meet up back with their team. They were discussing whether or not it would be wise to split, with Grapple remaining at the tower to work in peace, while Hoist reported their newly found occupation to the rest, when the door pinged and swished open and Chipswitch walked in.
"All right, let's hop to it," he said, unceremoniously dumping contents of his subspace pocket on one of the tables. Something round and brightly colored bounced of the table top, but Chipswith immediately caught and hid it, murmuring something unflattering about his coworker. Then he fished out a pack of dark bottles and two energon cubes of the pile of items, and pushed them toward the Autobots. "Help yourselves if you need to," he said carelessly, and started picking through the scattered sketchpads and datapads.
The two Autobots exchange bemused glances, then Hoist shrugged and helped himself to a bottle of coolant.
"Ah, here it is," Chipswitch apparently found what he was looking for. "All right, so I know already that you know a Phrener's breaker when you scan it, but you apparently don't know about Phrener circuit. It's a recent thing, and it's still in prototyping stage. Here, this is the standard version, and this is my modification to it." he passed Grapple a datapad with two opened files. "You can see where the problem is?"
Grapple frowned, focusing on the schematics. Hoist stood up and walked to him to look over his shoulder.

Chipswitch stacked his datapads in a neat pile, then grabbed a bottle of coolant and sipped while the old-bots studied the files. After a few minutes the orange one - Grapple, wasn't it? - spoke.

"Why, yes, I believe I can see the problem. The original one, I believe, is quite stable but not particularly efficient. Your version significantly reduces the energy loss on transmission routs, but the stability of the circuit suffers, is that correct?"
Very pleased with the assessment, Chipswitch nodded.

"Eg-zactly. And just that you can see that is recommendation enough for me, so we may as well skip the whole qualifications test and what-not. But, you have to sign these." He thrust confidentiality forms at the two mechs. "It's a standard deal, you're not allowed to copy any of the materials I disclose to you, nor use them beyond this station in any manner, for any reason, yadda yadda, or else you face legal consequences. AND, much more importantly, my bosses will have your afts. And you don't want to mess with my bosses. They've been in the War, you know," he added proudly. The mechs looked properly cowed by mention of War-veteran bosses, and signed the forms without protest, after a cursory scan of the text. They promised to stay and work on a problem to the end of the shift at least, and they agreed that 55 credits was a fair advance payment for their time. They even forgo signing any formal contract, and seemed to be satisfied with a vague promise that, had they provided a valable solution, a higher remuneration could be considered. His day was looking better and better with every passing klik.

"Alright, then," Chipswitch said as he activated holoscreens, plugged in a datapad and pulled up diagrams of several components and enclosed technical documentation. "Here you go. This is a working copy of the files, so you can mess with them as much as you want. Have at it. I'll have to leave you for a bit, I've got things that need doing. Ping me if you need me."

-5-

"I hope he doesn't try to introduce us to his 'bosses'," Hoist said after Chipswitch left. "The odds that they know us personally are rather slim, but it could still get awkward."
Grapple, already immersed in the diagrams, merely made a sound of agreement. Hoist smiled and let him be. To occupy his time, he started looking through the datapads left on the table. Several contained some kind of document forms. One held a few hundred book-files, ranging from novels to research documentation to science essays, all neatly cataloged. One held a copy of files Grapple was reviewing right now, and one held... what looked like complete blueprints of the entire solar tower.
"Grapple," Hoist said, "you've got to see this."

And see it Grapple did.
"I must say you look quite smitten," Hoist commented after a while.

"I think," Grapple said with great deliberation, staring at the 3D display in front of him, "I'm in love."
The building was perfect. Not a single design flaw that he could find. Not a single excess support beam. Safety devices and back-up systems covered every single emergency he could think of. Not in a million years could he hope to build anything equally flawless. There were things he would have done differently, of course. There were angles that could be a little wider, and some lines that could be shorter, but those were just esthetic details. Structurally, this tower was pure perfection.

It took several prods from Hoist for Grapple to finally tear himself away from the building's blueprints. He moved to schematics of energon gathering systems, and those made him frown in puzzlement.

It was a curious blend of several different technologies. One he was familiar with - it was the very same system he'd based his own solar tower on. It was, of course modified to be used on much larger scale, improved and built upon... but the general concept was there, and it was easy for him to grasp all the mechanics and advantages and disadvantages stemming from them. What gave him pause were extensive patches of systems based on completely different paradigm.

"Curious," Grapple muttered, studying the schematics intently. "Why fuse two different technologies?" It wasn't that they didn't mesh well - they did seem to function on a satisfactory level at least. It was that he couldn't see why the foreign technology was implemented at all, as there was no discernible benefit to the system on the whole. It didn't make sense to break integrity of the system if it didn't make it work better.

There were also patches he could understand - they were obviously upgrades, implemented over time as technological development allowed.

The main capacitor and energy distribution center, for example, looked like something taken from a sci-fi novel. Perceptor would probably have little problem with understanding the workings of that part of machinery, but for Grapple it was a mystery.
There was also the one solar panel that Chipswitch wanted them to work on. Time stamp on this part of blueprints was not even a meta-cycle old, and there were many annotations informing of minor tweaks and modifications, complete with meticulous notes on effect they had on system's efficiency. Chipswitch was quite obviously trying out a newly developed technology, hoping to improve energy output.

The two main systems that made up majority of the tower inner workings, however, had been clearly developed at the same time. Grapple spent some time going over the unfamiliar system, to make sure he properly understood it, and then spent some more time trying to figure out why it was used. He came up with nothing, which rather upset him. He tapped the part of schematics showing a junction where two systems met. It was possible that in this particular area the familiar system would be inferior to the alien one, but he just couldn't see how. Perhaps if he could see how his preferred technology would work out... Decisively, Grapple circled the problematic area, drew a line from there to the nearest bit of empty space and started sketching out alternative layout and connections. When he run out of empty space again, he skipped to another clear place and went on, quickly changing a neat and precise schematics into a navigational nightmare. All Grapples design sheets tended to look like this. They were practically impossible to read, unless you were A) Grapple, B) present and watching at the time they were made, and also named Hoist.

Knowing perfectly well his friend's little faults, Hoist picked up an empty sketch pad and hastily copied everything that appeared under Grapple's stylus, arranging all the schematics and equations into something readable. Occasionally he'd ask a question or point out an alternative solution. They worked like that for a good hour, until Grapple huffed, threw his hand up and declared that he had no idea why the designers of the systems decided to replace parts of the it with different technology, when it was obvious that sticking with the original one would work just as efficiently, and would avoid several system-to-system transition problems.

Irritated with the unsolved mystery, Grapple moved to the files Chipswitch had originally displayed for them. Hoist created a new folder on his sketchpad.

The second of Mondern, three forths into the second shift

Chipswitch had meant to keep checking in on his unexpected hirelings every five or six breems, but the solar tower was one demanding lady today. First, the main converter decided to be finicky again. Then the security computer pinged him and he went to chase away a bunch of local graffitists. Then a main fuse blew in the forth sector of Science District, suddenly cutting off one of power outputs, and Chipswitch needed to store their due energy until they replaced the fuse. And then it was high noon, and he needed to manually control the movement of solar panels, to compensate for minute oscillations of overheated metal. Technically, he could have left it to the automatic control system, but that would mean that some of the panels wouldn't be set to optimal angle at the key period of time, which meant they would catch less light than they could, which meant that energy output would be 0,5% below optimum. Unthinkable!

So it was quite late into the shift when he finally made his way to the design office. The first thing he saw upon entering very nearly gave him a core meltdown. The blueprints of entire primusdamned tower were displayed on the main design table. He was about to fly into a magnificent fit of rage, demanding how they put their paws on it, when he noticed the datapad plugged into the table. His datapad, holding a complete tower documentation, which he always carried with him and which, he realized, he must have left behind by mistake when he'd upturned his sub-pocket earlier. He was seriously going to kill Rattle.

"The confidentiality slip includes ever mentioning you've ever seen those," he said waspishly, pointing at the display. The mechs looked up from one of auxilary tables.

"Of course," the greenish one said. "And speaking of which, could you tell us why the base system is actually a mesh of two different systems? It's been driving Grapple crazy."
"Huh." Well, it was nice to know he wasn't the only one. "It's because it's been originally based on an existing tower that got smashed up in the War. There were no blueprints, and the mechs who built it were dead, so they just figured out what they could from the pieces, and filled in the holes with what they had at hand. It worked, so it stayed that way." And rust but it was annoying. In the early stages of his employment Chipswitch'd tried to figure out how the original system would look in the patched up areas, but all he concluded was that it must have somehow employed co-influence of independent system loops, and those were juuuuuust a little bit above his level. "Anyway, have you got anything on the panel you were supposed to work on?"

Grapple looked like he was about to say something more about the tower, but at the question he brightened and snapped his attention to the subject at hand.

"Oh, yes. Hoist suggested rewiring several integrated circuits to configuration similar to the ones in powerplant in Cybertronian bodies, which would normally be impractical in industrial use, but with this new circuit layout, and several adjustments here and here..." The bot went on, pointing out parts on a... horrible, horrible mess of a blueprint. Chipswitch stared. His dread must have shown on his face, because the ...uh... Hoist, tapped his shoulder and handed him a datapad which made the other's explanations understandable. Apparently, they did find a possibly valable solution. And wouldn't you know, it involved co-influence of independent system loops. Joy.

With a determined frown, Chipswitch focused on Grapple's explanations; they made sense when he thought of each problem separately. When he tried to put them all into a coherent concept in his head, they floated together, gained shape, focused... and then, with an evil giggle, went right over his head, tantalizingly close but just out of reach. Primus fragging damn it. He hated it when he could quite get a concept, which he could feel should make sense. It made him feel like he was back at one of Shockwave's sub-space physics lectures. What's even worse, there went the option of presenting the new design as his own. Sure he could try, but his claim wouldn't last past first few questions his bosses were bound to ask. And he'd rather not loose the best post in the city for being caught lying, thank you very much. Speaking of which, if he wanted those two working on the problem for a longer period of time, he should really clear it with the bosses. He was already stretching his authorization to hire subcontractors, as it was really meant for seasonal maintenance personnel, not assistant engineers.

"All right, you two, keep working. I need to take care of few things." he groused.

"Of course," Grapple nodded absently, his processor already focused on another equation.
_

The second of Mondern, nearing the end of the second shift

"Good day, sir," Chipswitch greeted his main superior as soon as his call was accepted. The mech always detested beating around the wiring, so Chipswitch went to the point right away. "I found a pair of mechs I'd like to hire for consultations and designing works. They've provided some ideas I think are worth exploring, here," he said, plugging the datapad in the console for his boss to access, and only then he realized with some trepidation that the mech looked even more cross than usual, and there seemed to be some commotion in the background.

"I hope for your sake it's worth my time," the mech huffed, and pulled the files up on the screen. He perused them impatiently, with a half focused gaze that probably meant he was talking with someone on the comm at the same time. Chipswitch waited, not exactly patiently but silently. It took him a moment to realize that the file currently on display was not his pet project, but some part of the main tower system. He was about to mention that, when his boss suddenly focused all his attention on the schematics, and demanded sharply, "Who did you say made those?"

"Pair of mechs from outside Vos, Grapple and Hoist, they were-"

His boss's visor brightened, and he interrupted sharply. "Get them on screen, I want to see them."

"Uh, yes, just a moment," Chipswitch said, and patched the call to one of screens in the design office (for he was not going to let the two strangers in the control room). "Won't take a klik, sir," he assured and rushed out.

-5-

"Hey, you've got a call," he announced barging in the design office half a klik later. The two mechs turned to him as he booted up the screen and accepted the patched through transmission. His boss's face appeared on the screen, and a sound of two engines stuttering in surprise sounded, followed by a moment of complete silence, while the three mechs stared at each other across the screen.

"Hook?" Grapple finally said hesitantly; as if that were a magic word, Hook unfroze and with a lightening speed he hit some keys on a control panel in front of him.
An alert siren blared once, and with a hiss all doors in the solar tower closed and sealed.

Chipswitch jumped and looked around wildly.

"What? Sir, what?"

Not in the least moved by his employee's distress, Hook kept his gaze on Grapple's shock-blank stare.

"Chipswich, make sure he doesn't go anywhere until we get there." And just like that, the screen went blank. Incredulous, Chipswitch turned to the pair of mechs.
"What the rust was that about? You know the boss?" He asked, only to be completely ignored. From the wild buzz of static in his comm he could guess that they were talking frantically over the radio, and from the small tense gestures he could guess they were very far from happy. And that's when the entirety of situation sank in for him.

He was locked in an emergency-sealed tower, in a company of two agitated mechs twice his size. Two mechs twice his size, whom his boss seemed to know. Two agitated mechs whose frames were so outdated that they could easily be old enough to remember the War. And, to complete the picture, they were wearing badges which Chipswitch initially took for good-willers' sigil, but now that he took a better look, he could see they were a little different. And the 'Children of Space's sigil was allegedly derived from insignia of the Autobots. Oh. Dear. Primus.

There was a gun hidden in one of lockers across the room for just this kind of situation. Heaps of good it would do him, Chipswitch thought bitterly. Even if he managed to get past the possibly dangerous mechs to get to it, he wouldn't know which end should be pointed which way. He'd never handled a gun in his life!

Luckily for Chipswitch, before he could drive himself into a panic attack, his commlink crackled to live with Rattle's annoyed voice.

** "What the frag, Chipswitch? Are your hired bots going nova or what?" **

** "I don't know! The boss took one look at them and locked us in! It looked like they knew each other."** He commed back frantically, and then, desperately wanting to be told otherwise, he asked, **"You don't think could be Autobots, do you?"**

**"Pfft, yeah, Autobots on Cybertron, right"** pure dismissal in the casseticon's voice was a balm for Chipswitch's spark. **"Probably just a competition. Either way, I'll be right with you."**

And sure enough, after a few moment of tense silence, in which Chipswitch tried his best to become one with the wall while Hoist and Grapple continued to confer frantically on a private comm-line, one of the maintenance ducts entrances opened noiselessly. Rattle peaked out cautiously, spooling hacking cables back into his side. Unnoticed by the two possibly-intruders, he crept down the wall to the weapons locker, opened it and slipped inside. Moments later he was gripping a standard issue blaster, supporting it with six arms.

**"They try anything funny, I drop them,"** he said smugly over the radio.

In any other context he would look ridiculous. But right here, right now, he was a sight of wonder that made Chipswitch sag in relief. Thank the Primus below for sneaky cassettes with basic battle-training. Never ever again was he going to tease Rattle about his militaristic leanings. With that resolution, he settled against the wall and waited for the whine of space-bridge to come from the lobby.

-5-

**"All right, let's do it."** Hoist radioed to Grapple. Their moment of initial panic was done and over with. After a short discussion Grapple reluctantly agreed that they should probably make a break for it before Hook arrived. He insisted, however, that they try not to destroy anything on the way out, and Hoist agreed, though for different reasons than Grapple's. The architect simply couldn't stand a thought of damaging this wonderful construction. Hoist's reasoning was more practical - one, blowing their way through the walls would take much more time than opening the door, and two, if they were caught, leaving a trail of destruction behind them would make their situation even worse. It didn't matter what faction you belonged to, having your property damaged tended to piss people off. So they agreed to persuade, or, if that failed, bully Chipswitch into letting them out. The bullying part didn't sit well with either of them - terrorizing innocent civilians was the exact opposite of what they believed in - but the tower operator seemed so unnerved by the situation that they didn't think it would be really necessary. However the moment Hoist stepped toward the white and orange mech, an unmistakeable sound of a charging weapon sounded behind them, and a sharp voice said, "Stay where you are, pal!"

Hoist whirled around, automatically transforming his right hand into a gun. He raised it, ready to defend himself... only to find there was no-one behind them. Or rather, no-one easily seen, he discovered a nanoklik later, when he was shot with a nasty discharge that all but paralyzed his entire arm.

"There's more where that came from," the voice said, and only then Hoist spotted a... thing, barely bigger than his forearm, effortlessly holding a gun much bigger than itself. The sight was so absurd that for a moment Hoist and Grapple just froze. And exactly in that moment, the door beeped and slid open to let not one, but all six Constructicons in. The Autobots' sparks sank right through the floor.

The massive mech on the front whom they barely recognized as Bonecrusher took a look at the scene, sniffed, and jerked his thumb toward the door.

"Go check if you're not somewhere else, you two," he said. With a happy "Yessir" and nonchalant "Sure, boss", Chipswitch and the weird tiny mech made themselves scarce.

As soon as the door closed behind them, Bonecrusher rotated a gun on his arm to aim in their general direction, and leaned against the nearest table, assuming a nonchalantly threatening pose.
The rest of Constructicons stepped closer, and, as if to prove that there was indeed a worse to every worst, Grapple spotted a small blue figure among the obnoxious neon green.

"You too?" Grapple murmured.

"Sorry," Pipes answered dejectedly, not even trying to shake the hold one of the 'Cons had on his arm. "I didn't recognize them".

Grapple thrummed his engine in a poor attempt at comfort, and braced himself for the worst. He wasn't entirely sure what he expected to happen next, but a repeat performance of his last meeting with the gestalt, or the good old 'capture&interrogate' gig seemed viable option.
Instead, four of the Constructicons barely spared them a glance and crowded around the table, examining schematics Grapple's been working on. Bonecrusher remained where he was, while the 'Con holding Pipes scuttled closer to the Autobots. It took a quick elimination process for Grapple to identify the mech as Scavenger. Tentatively, he tried his radio, and when the transmission wasn't blocked nor commented upon by the 'Cons, he hailed Pipes to asked how exactly did he end up here.

-5-

Outside the design office, one relieved mech and one giddy cassetticon looked at each other.

"He had an in-built gun," Rattle said with an excited gleam in his visor, bouncing in place on his long legs. Chipswitch shuddered minutely at the memory. "Yeah," he said. And then, because he really couldn't stop himself, he added, "But you didn't actually 'drop' him."

"It was a warning shot," Rattle informed him haughtily. Then he cackled gleefully. "It was awesome. Hire more random mechs from the street in the future."
"No way in the Pit," Chipswitch murmured, then thought about the unfinished schematics of the new system, and sighed regretfully. "Wanna drink after the shift's over? I've got a tube of Lounge's Gold."
"Whoa, you bet I want a drop of that. See you in a few, then?"

Chipswitch nodded, and they parted to wrap up their duties for the day.

-5-

While Pipes and Grapple filled each other in on the day's events, Hoist studied the Constructicons. He could hardly blame Pipes for not recognizing the gestalt. They looked so different in Cybertron altmodes. They were more massive and menacing than when they were mimicking primitive, clumsy Earth vehicles. And they had such elegant, functional designs, too.

Hoist eyed Longhaul's frame enviously. The Constructicon had gained some extra kibble that doubtlessly translated to multitasking tools in altmode, but they were functional in root mode too - as Hoist watched, one of jibes tucked against the truck-former's back moved to pull up a chair. Hoist drummed his fingers against his still numb right arm and resolved to reformat himself into something similar when - if - they got back home. Then he scoffed at himself. Thinking about upgrades while kept prisoner by enemy forces was, to put it mildly, silly. On the other hand, as prisoner situations went, this one was... not really adding up.

Most of the 'enemy forces' were practically ignoring them.

Bonecrusher was watching them like a hawk, true, but there was no overt malice in his gaze. If anything, he looked simply curious, which was doubly strange as a good part of his frame was covered in blistered, flaking paint that gave of the characteristic smell of Pipes's battle gas. Speaking of which, the hold that Scavenger had on Pipes's arm looked more comforting than restraining. Whether the comfort was meant for Pipes or for Scavenger himself was anyone's guess. It was hard to tell which of the two looked more miserable at the moment. As the Earth saying went, it was all getting curiouser and curiouser.

Finally the bulk of the Constructicons straightened up from poring over scribbled on schematics and turned to face the unlucky engineers.

"So..." Hook said slowly. "You say you are Grapple..." he shifted his gaze to the other Autobot "...and Hoist."

"That's our names," Hoist answered with strained politeness, for it is unwise to be impolite to a complete gestalt team when you don't have one of your own behind your back.

"That's funny..." Bonecrusher drawled.
"... 'Cause Grapple and Hoist are de-de-dead," Mixmaster finished seamlessly, and Bonecrusher picked up again "...and we know, 'cuz we were there when that-"
"That High Commander," Hook intersected sharply, and Bonecrusher scowled, rumbling discontentedly over what was doubtlessly a lot less flattering term. "Yeah, him - executed them," he finished.

"But that," Scrapper said, waving his hand at the schematics, "has 'Grapple' written all over it. So..."

"Explanation, if you please?" Hook finished, staring at them expectantly.

Grapple looked over at Hoist, only to see that his friend looked just as dumbfounded as Grapple felt. If they'd disappeared never to return at some point in the past, it would stand to reason they'd be considered dead. But how having someone witness their execution fit into this? They turned to Pipes, who returned their blank look with a little shrug, as if to say 'what are you looking at me for?'

"Well?" Hook prompted impatiently, and all Grapple could do was to spread his hands helplessly.

"Would you believe we honestly don't know?"

The second of Mondern, beginning of the third shift

Breems passed. In the personnel room, Rattle and Chipswitch shared a drink, and warned the just arrived third-shift mechs to steer clear of the design office.

In the design office, nine mechs conferred.

Encouraged by the Constructions' continued lack of hostility, Grapple recounted the unusual circumstances of their arrival, carefully editing the not present Autobots out of the story. He needn't have bothered, as Bonecrusher gleefully informed them, picking flakes of blistered paint off his shoulder. Apparently, a detainment warrant for 'all ten of them' had been issued a few breems before the end of second shift, which, incidentally, was why the gestalt team captured Pipes. No, they didn't know why the warrant was issued, and couldn't care less. As further gentle prodding disclosed, they weren't all that interested in turning the Autobots in either. From the few offhanded comments the Autobots gathered that the Constructicons had been quite upset over Grapple's execution, and were rather pleased to have a second chance to meet him. Which, of course, led back to Grapple and Hoist's 'miraculous' return to life.

Unsure as to which one of their friends weren't on the warrant, and not particularly inclined to fully trust the gestalt team just yet, Grapple opted to play it safe, and made sure not to mention any names. So it was 'their inventor' who'd built a prototype space-bridge, in a company of 'couple of other scientists' and 'a guard detail'.

"...and something went wrong with the bridge. It sucked us all in and brought us here."

A skeptic red stare times six met his story.
"And that's it?" Longhaul asked, incredulously. "You just space-jumped here? So, who was it..." he started a question, "...that we saw vaporized, huh? Huh?" Mixmaster finished.

"What I want to know," Scrapper said thoughtfully, "is when did you have time to build a bridge?"

Preferring not to think about anyone being vaporized, Grapple did a quick count to answer Scrapper's question.
"About twelve years after we woke up from the crash."

"That's eleven meta-cycles," Hoist translated.
"That's not right," Hook said with a frown. "Are we thinking of the same crash?"
"The Ark getting buried on a disgusting organic planet?" Scrapper supplied for clarification.

Hoist nodded. "Sounds right. We crashed and spent close to fifty thousand vorns in stasis, until the volcano erupted and woke as up."

"What? That's not what happened!" Bonecrusher objected, and was promptly silenced by a gesture from Scrapper.
"That's not how it happened for us", the Constructicon spokesmech said. "Do you remember the Norcimo's cross-dimensional research project?"

Bonecrusher grinned a strangely predatory grin. "You mean the one they had to close down because that thing popped out of the space-bridge and totaled the whole research station? Pit, yeah. What about it?"
Hook's visor glowed as he looked at Scrapper in understanding. "It was based on Shockwave's theory of branching realities and common points of subspace," Hook said. "And that theory included his speculations regarding existence of different history lines that shared common root but differed starting from a specific point in time," Scrapper added with a nod.
There was a beat of silence.
"Okay, now translate that from Geek to Mech," Longhaul and Bonecrusher said simultaneously. Half-hidden behind Scavenger's elbow, Pipes snickered.

The second of Mondern, one tenth into the third shift

The Constructicons might not be strictly scientists, but they had vast experience with building/repairing/tearing down space bridges, and as such they had fairy good grasp on the physics involved. They were happy to theorize about the situation. Well, four of them were. Bonecrusher lost interest after the 'They are from different dimension. Think "Twilight Area" series with actual science' explanation. He was now just listening to the babble with half an audio, leaning against the wall and scanning the security and government channels for interesting info, while at the same time keeping a careful optic on their unexpected guests, just in case they sprouted carbon-based tentacles or something.
As for Scavenger, he and Pipes had at some point drifted away to one of the tables, and were happily tinkering with several small knick-knacks they pulled out of subspace. Grapple, having lost all reservations towards the Constructicons, sat in the middle of the science!huddle, while Hoist sat a little to the side, testing his recovering right arm and keeping a careful optic on their unexpected hosts, just in case they suddenly reverted to the energon-hungry machines of destruction from their own, war-plagued reality.

He also quietly vowed to himself that, when/if they managed to rejoin their team and go back home, he was never going to mention the details of this day to anybody. No matter the circumstances, he didn't think the Autobots would forgive Grapple for so eagerly teaming up with the Constructicons yet again. His friend had caught enough flak a few years back, after that other solar tower incident. None of the Autobots could understand how Grapple could so easily agree to cooperate with the enemy team. Well, how could they? They weren't there when Grapple was still a brand new, self-taught architect wannabe, full of dreams and hopes, while the Constructicons were one of the most famous and fought for design&construction teams. Back then, a chance to work alongside them was every architects dream, and Grapple was no exception. The War and destruction of Crystal City changed a lot, but some part of that youthful admiration stayed lodged in Grapple's spark, and it showed whenever given half a chance.

"Hey, guys," Longhaul said with an obnoxious layer of static in his voice, meant to draw everybody's attention, which effectively interrupting Hoist's musings. "Aren't we loosing focus here? We wanted Grapple, now we have Grapple. What do we need the parallel hocus-pocus for?"
Grapple opened his mouth and froze like that when the comment sank in. The look on his face a picture of conflicting emotions, with alarming amount of awe and happiness. Hoist reset his vocalizer. "Because we'd like to go home at some point," he said very carefully, making sure that the point got across both to the Decepticons and the Autobots present.

To his relief, it did have the desired effect. Well, kind of. The Constructicons seemed to get the message, but they also latched on the 'at some point' part of it.

At some point, the mechanics of their arrival would be discussed with some unspecified experts. At some point, contacts would be exploited and strings pulled to get the Police off their backs. At some point, means to get them back home would be discovered and realized. And until that point, the three Autobots would remind under Constructicons wings, working for them to pass the time. It was all very vague on the details, and delivered in small pieces by each Constructicon in turn, so when Hook finished it with "do we have a deal then?", none of the Autobots were entirely sure what exactly they were supposed to be agreeing to.

Grapple, still a little bit dazed, just nodded his consent. Pipes shrugged and followed suit, which left Hoist, who had some serious misgivings about all the vagueness, but decided to play along for now. "Fine with me," he said.

"Splendid!" Hook exclaimed enthusiastically, clasping his hands together. "Well then, Scrapper, dig up your contacts in 3H's science department. I'll make sure Chipswitch and Rattle know that today never happened. And 'Crusher, you'll have to find out what that warrant is all about, and cover for us until we sort it out."

Bonecrusher didn't answer straight away. He seemed to be staring into space, which meant that he was in fact reading messages displayed on his visor. Finally he smiled.

"Nice plan, but won't work" he said cheerfully, for finding flaws, be it in constructions or action plans, always made him happy.

Scrapper huffed a little cloud of steam impatiently. "Why?"

"'Cause while you were chatting about, the case was skipping up the confidentiality chain, and the orders kept changing faster than chamelo-bot on crack. Originally they wanted them brought to our PD, then to Kaon's PD, and now they're to be delivered straight to the capital."

It didn't mean much for the Autobot trio, but going by the looks on the Constructicons faces, it wasn't a good news.