At the rendezvous point...

When Ironhide finally found the rendezvous point out in the middle of a field, he didn't even bother stopping before he transformed and skidded to an earth-tearing halt right in front of the silent gray-blue Balkan MK6. The black Autobot glared down menacingly at the vehicle.

"So...it's you."

The surveillance vehicle broke apart at every seam, growing massive legs and arms. A blank face jutted out from where the engine sat flashing a red-orange visor. Slowly, the form rose up as Soundwave. The Decepticon straightened his back, standing erect as a pole, not appearing to even look at Ironhide. But he was. His acute sensors detected instantly that Ironhide was still armed and right now he was the sole target of any attack the infamous Autobot chose to unleash. All of his logic circuits were crackling, screaming that this course of action was illogical and doomed for failure. But they were also asserting that if he made any hostile action first, he would inevitably ruin the plan. So he waited patiently, silently, for the Autobot to make the first move.

The weapons specialist thrummed his fingers next to his sides, his cannons rumbling, "Spill it Decepticon. I haven't got all day."

"Autobot, disarm and deactivate weapon systems." the melodic voice commanded.

Ironhide made his optics burn brighter, "NOT until I see Annabelle and Sara."

"Request denied. Weapons must be disarmed in order to disclose information." Soundwave informed.

The anger clenched at Ironhide's spark casing, but somehow his own logic circuits jolted to life to reign it in, "I'll disarm them ONLY when I have proof that they are alive and unharmed," he gave the stolid Decepticon a challenging look, "Would it be logical for me to disarm if they were dead?"

Soundwave seemed to process the question, "Negative."

Nodding the weapons specialist knew Soundwave was a very coherent thinker and if something didn't set right with his logic circuits he did whatever he could to correct it—a flaw of his mainframe.

"Then, the logical action would be to assure me with physical proof so that I KNOW my actions are not wasted." Ironhide continued his manipulations.

Again the Decepticon thought, "Logic, confirmed."

"So take me to Sara and Annabelle and then I'll disarm," the black Autobot insisted.

"Negative. Visual confirmation over communication line sufficient proof."

Ironhide narrowed his optics. Soundwave was definitely a stickler for logic but definitely not stupid. It was no secret that he was the veritable brain of the Decepticon forces, intelligent as well as a skilled combatant and spy— a lethal combination. For the briefest instant he thought about just blowing that mask right off his blank face and hacking the Con's processor for the information. But, Soundwave couldn't be easily hacked. The mech was pretty much a mobile supercomputer with vast memory storage and complex circuitry that only the most advanced technical Cybertronian engineer could possibly begin to unravel. He couldn't pull it off. Not on THIS Decepticon—some low-watt like Skywarp or Brawl, perhaps, but not Soundwave. A rare smart move by Starscream to send him.

Ironhide growled with displeasure, "Show me a current visual of them..." he suddenlyjabbed a whirring cannon in the Con's face and against his chest compartment, "and Primus help you if you pull any fancy tricks," he warned in a deadly tone.

Soundwave held in his emotions at all times, but his drones could all feel his apprehension when that cannon targeted his chest compartment; his most vulnerable area. Leave it to Ironhide to know precisely where he was most susceptible.

"What is wrong?" Ravage purred through the line.

Rumble patched through too, "You all right Boss?"

The mech fed all his drones a consoling warmth through their spark connections, to ease them and kept his emotionless façade as he made contact with Starscream.

"What do you want Soundwave? Did you have to terminate the Autobot?" the raspy voice of the commander seemed hopeful.

"Negative. Autobot demands to view current condition of prisoners before disarming. Logic is sound." Soundwave explained, his shaded optics focused solely on the cannons aimed point-blank at his vulnerabilities.

"He's NOT disarmed?" Starscream's voice heightened, "Terminate him!"

"Not probable. Probability for plan's success much higher if he is pacified to disarm and led to the attack zone," the communications officer clarified with insistence.

"Soundwave! DO NOT DEFY ME!" the jet's voice screeched with outrage.

Soundwave all at once produced at horrible high-pitched keen over the line making Starscream shriek, "AHH! WHAT WAS THAT?"

Soundwave's monotonic voice lowered to a frightening octave, "Lord Starscream, plan will fail if I try to terminate now. Failure imminent."

There was a very pregnant pause on the line until, "Fine! Give the Autobot the visual but nothing else," the jet Con's voice warned nastily, "You'd BETTER not screw this up with your blasted logic, Soundwave! Contact that glitch Thundercracker for the visual."

Severing the communication, Soundwave rerouted the line to Thundercracker.

Ironhide tapped his compartment with a warning impatience, "Tick, tick Soundwave..."

He didn't like the silence but knew he honestly couldn't kill Soundwave like he wanted to if he was ever going to find Sara and Annabelle. But the Con seemed compliant with his method of "persuasion".

"Soundwave to Thundercracker."

A pause before the blue jet grated, "Yeah?"

"Display optics visual of prisoners on this frequency." Soundwave hummed.

"What for?"

His melodic voice lowered a register making Soundwave sound irritated, "Do it."

"Hang on. You stupid chunk of—sending visual now." Thundercracker growled back, not hiding the weary tone.

A small projector rose out of Soundwave's shoulder and instantly a Thundercracker's visual map came into focus right in front of Ironhide. Very slowly, he backed his cannons off a bit to view the holographic display. He could see Sara and Annabelle huddled together on the ground being viewed presumably from the Decepticon's higher vantage point. They appeared unharmed and most definitely alive, just frightened and disheveled.

"Display their chemical/bio readouts." Ironhide demanded, clicking his cannons back.

Soundwave paused. He was ordered not to give anymore. The heat from Ironhide's right cannon seemed to shock his chest grate. Though he could easily deal Ironhide a crushing blow with one of his sound attacks at such a close distance, the Autobot would inevitably get the fatal shot, killing both him and his drones.

Thundercracker snorted, "What? We taking orders from Autobots now?"

"Do it." Soundwave ordered.

Grumbling, Thundercracker's acute visual spectrogram switched on, displaying the internal workings of both humans. Ironhide surveyed it with great intensity. Sara's bio readings showed high levels of stress and expended adrenaline. She was also displaying minor bruising over her body as well as larger ones around her shoulders, but no life-threatening injuries. Annabelle's body temperature was lower than it should have been but she was otherwise unharmed as well. They appeared to be in much better condition than he'd previously guessed but it still didn't pacify the rage threatening to consume his spark.

Boldly, Soundwave deactivated the image, "Proof established. Deactivate and disarm weapons."

Growling menacingly in his vocalizer, Ironhide looked at both of his cannons—his most prized possessions. He'd never had to face Decepticons without them. They were part of him, as reliable as two fellow Autobot partners in battle. The only time they were truly offline was during maintenance. Ironhide briefly felt torn to actually disarm them.

"Deactivate and disarm or the humans will be terminated." Soundwave demanded darkly.

Ironhide held himself back from knocking the Decepticon into the next county. If he wanted to recover Sara and Annabelle from the Decepticon's clutches alive he had to do the unthinkable.

As one the two monstrous cannons powered down, disappearing into the compartments on Ironhide's massive forearms. Darkening his optics in an almost pained way, Ironhide severed his connection with the weapons and triggered the manual releases that connected them to his arms. A massive gust of pressure and nitrogen gases blew out of Ironhide's arms as both 'holsters' and cannons banged to the ground, leaving his forearms bare. Though he tried not to show it, Ironhide felt his spark twinge hearing his cannons hit the dirt.

It was rare for Soundwave to allow himself to feel much, but he was honestly stunned Ironhide had surrendered his weapons. He also allowed himself a private glitch of relief. The probability of completing his mission now tipped strongly in his favor. Soundwave surveyed the fallen weapons a moment and then Ironhide. He could feel the Autobot's discomfort as well as a strong dose of grief. It eased Soundwave to know the Autobot was clearly out of his depth without his high-powered reassurances. It was a familiar feeling to the communications specialist. When his drones were forcibly separated from him he felt the same insecurities as well as grief for their absence. Soundwave forcefully swatted down the thought from his mainframe, refocusing on the task at hand.

Ironhide held up his arms forcefully, "There. Now take me to them!"

All at once Rumble's voice whined in Soundwave's telepathic pathways, "Can I bust him Boss?"

"Silence, Rumble." Soundwave replied telepathically blocking the pathway.

The drone rerouted to another pathway, "Aw, come on Boss! Let me out! I wanna pop him one right in the face!"

Soundwave fed the little brawler irritated static as a response before focusing on Ironhide again, "Autobot, follow."

...

Earlier back at Autobot Headquarters ...

Will banged against the side of the oil storage tank, shouting at the top of his lungs for a little over thirty minutes before Ratchet heard him.

The Autobot medic didn't quite hear the man until he wandered outside for a break and heard a faint banging coming from the other side of the airfield. Curious, he tuned his audio sensors to the noise and quickly found its source, peering down into the oil tank.

"Will!" he exclaimed, thoughtfully reaching in and plucking up the irate human, "What are you doing in there?"

Waving his arms wildly, Will shouted, "Ironhide put me in there nearly half an hour ago! Didn't you hear me?"

Ratchet shook his head apologetically, "I'm sorry Will. We weren't listening for you." Suddenly he registered what the man had said, "WHAT? Why did Ironhide put you in there? Where IS he?"

"I don't know! I've been in that blasted tank!" Will threw up his hands.

The Autobot medic looked around quickly, "Did he say anything?"

"Yeah, he got really quiet for about two minutes, like he was listening to something. Then he picked me up, put me in there, and told me he couldn't have anyone following him." Will explained. "Then I heard him transform and drive off."

Ratchet got a very worried look across his face, "Oh, slag." Then his expression morphed to anger, "That bolt-brained chunk of ballistic scrap!"

"Do you know where he was going?" Will asked hopefully as Ratchet put him down.

The medic shook his dark head, "Not exactly. But I have a pretty good guess. Come on! We have to tell Optimus."

....

In the Sierra Nevada Mountains earlier...

With their hunger pangs subsided, the two human prisoners felt much more relaxed considering their situation. Annabelle soon became bored, but busied herself by building a small "house" out of sticks, rocks, and pine cones. Sara watched her, marveling how calm the little girl acted even surrounded by so much danger. She kept a wary eye on their Decepticon guard who sat only a few yards away, eyeing their every move with his red optics. After an hour or so of silence, Sara felt the need to speak.

She looked right at Thundercracker, "I...I never did thank you for saving my daughter from the river."

The huge Con's optics shutters angled downward, "I don't need your gratitude fleshy." Thundercracker inwardly couldn't grasp why the human was thanking him.

"Well, whether you want it or not, I am obligated to thank you." Sara reasserted.

Thundercracker tipped his head a bit, "Why? Gratitude is a useless sign of weakness."

The woman shook her head, "You didn't HAVE to save her."

Growling deeply, "What are you implying flesh bag?" the Decepticon leaned forward menacingly.

Sara shrunk back a bit, trying to choose her words carefully. "I'm not implying anything."

"OH yes you are! What are you IMPLYING?" he demanded.

"Great Sara, just great. You started an argument with a thirty-foot-tall Decepticon who could crush you with one finger!" Sara berated herself. From his posturing and expression the woman could tell he wasn't about to let her off.

"Nothing. I'm just saying you didn't have to do what you did and I'm thankful that you chose to save her," the blonde gestured nervously.

That seemed to irritate him further, "You're saying I chose to save your spawn?"

"Yes?"

His head turned dangerously, giving her a look of anger, "I only did it because that glitch Starscream would've blamed me for killing a prisoner! Not because I, out of the goodness of my spark, chose to save her!"

Sara shut her mouth, fearing if she continued the Decepticon would grow even more agitated. She looked away, pretending to be interested in a pine cone. Quite abruptly Thundercracker flashed his afterburners.

"You think I'm lying!" he accused.

The woman shook her head furiously, "I didn't say anything!"

Suddenly, Thundercracker's colossal hand swooped down and snatched her right of the ground, bringing her within inches of his optics, "Don't you lie to me!" he thundered. "You were thinking it! Admit it!"

Frightened, the woman tried to deviate her gaze from the immense accusing optics, "Fine! Fine! I admit it! Just leave me alone!"

His grip tightened ever so slightly as he jabbed his other finger at her, "I'm not weak! You got that? What I did was for my own benefit, NOT hers and NOT yours!"

In that instant, Sara became very angry. She was tired of being treated like an insignificant bug. She was tired of being in constant fear for her daughter's safety. She was tired of being abused.

The woman narrowed her eyes at his, "If you're NOT weak then why do you bully creatures not even a quarter of your size?"

His optic shutters swiped over his optics.

She leaned her torso over the edge of his fist and clenched her teeth, "If you're NOT weak, then why do you take orders from a complete egomaniac?"

The woman cried out minutely as his metal tightened around her, his voice rasping with fury, "Why you insolent little insect!"

Even though his crushing grip was hurting her, Sara spat the last of what she had to say, "If you're NOT weak then why do you take that kind of abuse from Starscream?"

She waited for her captor to mercilessly crush her, but surprisingly his grip lessened. His red optics bore into her, still flashing with anger.

"You're bigger than him. Why do you let him push you around?" Sara asked brazenly.

Opening his hand, Thundercracker lightly tossed the woman, sending her rolling across the ground.

"Mommy!" Annabelle cried, rushing over to her.

The woman winced, the wind driven from her. She regained her breath slowly and stared harshly at the Decepticon. He wasn't looking at her.

"You...never answered my question. Why?" she gasped.

The big blue Con ignored her, yet he was tossing the question around his mainframe. Why did he take it? He took it because without the Decepticons, without their cause, he was useless. His life had no purpose. If he left the Decepticons what would he have? Nothing. But did the Decepticons HAVE a purpose anymore without Megatron leading them? Sure, Megatron commanded respect through brutality and threats, but he at least had a plan that made sense. Starscream led for the sake of power. Did that make their cause null? Was Megatron's leadership the only thing that kept the Decepticon ranks moving and filled him with some kind of purpose?

Then he began inputting the question deeper into his logic circuits. Starscream's leadership didn't give him purpose...it diminished him. But what could he do about it? Starscream was ruthless, he was conniving, and he was the Decepticon leader by rank. Would defying and overthrowing his 'leader' kill his sense of purpose indefinitely? If the Decepticons ceased to exist would he have a purpose?

Somehow this primitive, insignificant, flesh creature had struck him in his most vulnerable of flaws: self-doubt.