Sorry I know it's been a long time since I last updated, but I've been busy getting my first brown in Tang-su-do and passing finals.

Also, it was hard to submit this chapter as wasmessing with me earlier and kept giving me this "error" message.

Anyway- here's another chapter!

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A midnight black hovercar sped through the freshly plowed city streets, a phantom shadow of gleaming metal alone on the four lane highway that constituted the Ribbon. Though outwardly ShadowStriker appeared coolly emotionless, inside his thoughts raged with inner turmoil. He raced away from the Ark as fast as he could. He raced along the streets, trying to loose himself in the hypnotic sight of snow bank after snowbank flashing past. He tried to outrun his past, but like the intangible ghost of misery that it was, it clung to him and refused to be shaken by mere speed alone.

"Get a grip! You are a warrior, not some soft-hearted, blubbering fool!" ShadowStriker berated himself irritably. Yes, that was it. He was a warrior. A coldly analytical warrior, without feelings or friends. It was safer that way. If you didn't have friends, there was never the chance that you might loose them. If you didn't have a heart, it could never be broken.

Yet all the same, he knew that it was the Decepticon indoctrination talking. Before he had gone turncoat on his former comrades, it was all he had known. Like the ignorant mech he used to be, he accepted those principles without question- until now. There was a saying that understanding bred sympathy, and it certainly appeared to be true now that he knew what it was like to be an autobot. They were by no means as weak as the Deceptions thought them to be. To love as the autobots did was to invite hurt.

Perhaps, in a way, that was what made him a coward compared to them.

And then there was that human, damn it all. If only she was "weak" and deliriously happy! Then he would not feel such a connection to her as he did. Oh no, she had to be just as much of a hard ass as he was.

Primus! He didn't know what to do about her. She was like a little hornet, so small and easy to crush yet possessing a painful sting. Yes, that was it. Shadowstriker felt a little flitter of amusement despite himself. Hornet. It was the perfect nick-name for her.

"Prime to ShadowStriker. Shadowstriker, come in."

Prime? What does he want?

"This is ShadowStriker. Go ahead, commander."

"Return to base immediately. These bombings are more than they appear to be on the surface."

"How do you mean?"

"I have recently received evidence that Rattrap is still alive and at large."

"WHAT!"

Shadowstriker slammed on the brakes, skidding along the highway to a dead stop.

"How can that be? He was killed during the attack by Omega Supreme!"

"Not necessarily. His body was never found. It is entirely possible that he was rebuilt."

"Sir, I think one of the Autobot workshops would have informed us of an unknown spark transfer."

"True, an AUTOBOT would. But what if rattrap was given a different body? What if he was given a robot body that was built by humans?"

Shadowstriker felt his fuel pump seize up, his CPU grinding in incomprehension. Rattrap, alive! That son on a bitch...

"Where is he now sir?" He asked urgently, speeding off again with the sound of screeching tires.

There was only answering silence.

"Sir?"

"I believe," Prime started slowly, "That he is currently disguised as none other than Detective Roberts"

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"Explain to me again WHY I am doing this?" Raven snarled nervously, lying down on the metal slab Rachet indicated to. Spike smiled innocently.

"To help you remember those visions." She shook her head.

"I STILL say you're high on SOMETHING if you think that I'm psychic."

"I would also like to prob the upper parameters of your telepathic abilities." Raven groaned at Preceptor.

"In english please, doctor Spock."

"He means that we want to test your powers." Rachet explained as he attached a lead to her forehead. Raven scruffed at her eye nervously with the long sweat shirt sleeve that she had opted to change into if only to get out of her PJ's. Her heart contracted at a painful speed within her chest, and her nose already had the faith dew of cold sweat on it.

"Brilliant. First I was blackmailed and now I'm being turned into a guinea pig." She grumbled, watching as the two bots in the room moved between various machines around her, attaching different leads to her, one on each arm in the crook of her elbow, one on the side of her neck and three along her brow.

"Just do me a favor; if you DO end up frying my brain, just make sure it kills me- I don't want to be a vegetable the rest of me life."

Spike gave her a weird look.

"I don't think you have anything to worry about. They're very good at this sort of thing."

Raven grunted disbelievingly.

"Alright, just relax now Raven. And hopefully if we've done our job right you won't feel anything except for a moment or two of disorientation." Rachet said placatingly, reaching across to a machine and flipping a switch.

And all went to Hell.

She was gone from the brightly lit room, thrown headlong into a fiery torrent of words, thoughts, and feelings, moaning whispers and sighs of a lustful evil. Images- merely unrecognizable glimpses of objects in the void- flashed by her and around her, worming their way under her eyelids and into her mind. Beautiful things. Sad things. Lonely things. Terrible things. Evil things. Somehow all there at once yet occurring nowhere and no-when near each other. Something so enormously important and overshadowing yet invisibly hidden.

It was coming- no it was there.

It was both

Here. There. Everywhere. Nowhere. Something so big yet so obvious.

Just one little point.

So crucially important.

Just.

One.

And then the whispers started again.

Gono' dehayd'ay. Na for ogh say'la'dya...

And she saw the door, the door that stood in its way, locked firmly against it but not for long, the blinding light behind it roving, searching, banging, looking for a crack to get through.

La' day...

La' day...

La' day...

ItwasatthekeyholeandunderthecrackandOHGODTHEREITISITSLOOKINGATME!

YOU.

CAN'T.

SEE.

ME.

I'M.

ALREADY.

DEAD.

Raven bolted upright against the arms holding her down, the all consuming fear that enveloped her exploding out in an earth-shattering scream.

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"Towline here. What can I do for you, 'Striker?" ShadowStriker looked meaningfully at the image of his friend on the monitor screen.

"Call all the cleanup crews back, Towline. Prime's gotten a whiff of something covert."

"Oh! That reminds me. I found something mighty interestin' that he might want to see."

ShadowStriker shook his head. "Not now, Towline. This is more important." If he were human, ShadowStriker imagined that he would have heard a sharp intake of air from Towline, but instead all the mech did was stand a little straighter, looking nervous. If something was 'important' to ShadowStriker, someone had died or was going to.

"What is it?"

"Now don't go spreading this around. Prime wants to keeps the rumors to a minimum, if you know what I mean."

"I do." Towline said simply, not a hint of his usual joviality present. Something big was going down. It was no time to be cracking jokes.

"Well, from the limited amount of information I've received, something has lead Prime to believe that Rattrap is still alive- in a human built robot body."

Towline looked faintly sick. It was a moment before he responded.

"That bastard." He said softly to himself. Then, more loudly, "Then what I found will interest you. I-I don't really see how he can be, though, ShadowStriker. Or rather, if he was somehow still alive, he isn't anymore. We found a human built robot body at ground zero. 'Shadow, this one had a

'con's emblem on it."

It was ShadowStriker's turn to freeze in shock. But...Prime had said that he believed Detective Roberts to be Rattrap in disguise. And if the good detective wasn't dead, it meant Rattrap couldn't be either...could it?

"I'll inform Prime immediately. Be ready to give a full report to him yourself, though." He finally responded.

"Primus, I hope I don't have to. This whole business makes me sick."

"Me too, Towline, me too."

"But you know, something occurred to me, 'Shadow. Why would the guy we're after for the bombings plant a bomb to bring down an abandoned building?"

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What do you mean 'they're on to me'! Didn't you follow my instructions?

"Y-yes master" Rattrap, back in robot form, sniveled, his head bowed against the plush apartment carpeting.

Well then, what went wrong?

"An unforseen circumstance, Master. The human- Raven Sigil- who is with them now was able to see through my disguise and alerted them to the fact."

Ah... A human psychic...interesting...

Rattrap was surprised that his master sounded amused rather than upset.

Use the controlling device implanted in Teletran 1's CPU distract the Autobots while you capture the girl. Then bring her to me.

"But master! How could one human be of use?"

SILENCE! YOU WILL DO AS I SAY!

"Y-yes master." Rattrap quipped dutifully. Hopefully having absolute control over the Ark's main computer would make infiltrating it to retrieve the girl easier than it seemed. After all, it had come in handy in the past.

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He pressed a button on the side of his chest, his brother's following suit. A greenish- white light enveloped them, and when it faded, three young adult humans stood in their places. He glanced at his brothers- still recognizable despite the holograms- and by and unspoken signal he lead them out from their secret passage into the empty terminal of the subway.

The trains had stopped running because of the blizzard, but that was easy to fix. While his brothers went to patch into the tram's computer, he brought a small metal ball out of the compartment in his chest, pressing in on two of its sides to that it lit up with a blinking red light. Glancing around once more to insure that the terminal was indeed deserted, he tossed it high into the air and it went sailing across the large cavernous expanse, stopping to hover a few inches above the ground near the ticket booth.

Seeing that his brothers were done, he hurried over to them and piled in the now-active tram car. A thick wire shot out from his wrist and attached to the computer console. The doors slid shut of their own accord and the tram shot froward through the tunnel.

Behind them, they distantly heard the sound of the bomb them had planted going off.