Disclaimer: The author of this fanfic does not claim to own the series, the characters, or anything else of the franchise. Moving on now.

This one really is an honest-to-gods multi-parter, focusing on more characters than it's convenient to list. But mostly Scourge and Mega-Octane. And Sky-byte. And the Spychangers. And Dr. Onishi.... ahem. Please do drop a review with any criticism or other comments.

Running on Fumes

Chapter One: Signs in the Entrails

Avoiding battle can be as risky as seeking it.

Mega-Octane had been intent on this assignment since the hours before dawn, and now as the afternoon drew on, he still didn't dare to let his attention waver. You couldn't let your guard down when you were the guard.

The green truck came to another bend in the road and came to a halt as he checked the map. After a few seconds he sighed and did a perfunctory sensor sweep. All clear.

"Mega-Octane, transform!"

His limbs unfolded as he rose to his feet, standing in robot-mode for the first time all day. He glanced at the human-built fence by his knees, then scoffed to himself and stepped over it.

It hadn't rained, so there was no mud to add to the patchy grass cover he was cutting across. Just dry soil, noisy insects, and a bunch of sheep huddled at the other end of the field. He couldn't see the others, of course. They were spread out over several miles, patrolling the edges along dirt tracks and gullies, through the sky and through the ditch. Alone, each was an innocent sight from a distance (except Armorhide, but for a tank he put up a good effort). Up in orbit, Movor kept position over them, and transmitted his data down to the Megastar, where Megatron and Scourge were watching.

The sky was clear, the sun was mild, and most importantly, their path was empty. And in the centre, somewhere far to his right, the Megastar was moving.

It wasn't fast, considering what the ship could do. It was a constant speed, though, and the ground-based Decepticon escort had to keep their attention on finding roads or level ground to follow. Sometimes this meant shortcuts.

Mega-Octane reached the next road and stepped onto it to transform back. He wasn't too concerned about keeping up. It was Autobots he had to watch out for, or any humans who might call them. Moving across land was always more dangerous than sea. And the amount of energy it used to get around made it hard enough to shift the base once. If they were discovered and had to move again too soon, it could be disastrous.

His comlink was on, and the others were talking. Their conversation made a background sound to his own thought as he drove. Every now and then he deigned to pay attention to them.

"Hey Movor, see any Autobots from up there?" Ro-tor asked.

"Nope. They must've all decided to stay indoors."

"On a day like this?" Armorhide snorted.

"Guess they must be wearin' thin on the nature-loving thing," said Rollbar.

"Too bad. Watching you guys drive in circles isn't what I call prime-time entertainment."

"Is that what you call a pun?"

"Don't get complacent," Mega-Octane reminded them. "One slip-up and the Autobots could follow us to the landing zone."

"And with those Spychangers' camouflage, we won't get a chance to spot them," Armorhide added.

"You'd know all about that, now, wouldn't you?" Rollbar commented, his tone slightly sourer than usual.

Armorhide laughed. "Still mad I got the drop on you?"

Scourge's image appeared on their screens, breaking into the talk. "Decepticons, hold your positions! We're approaching a suitable landing site."

Mega-Octane returning his own image, nodding slightly. "Which way, Scourge?"

"I'll give you the heading in a moment."

The information came through a second later. Mega-Octane compared the co-ordinates with his map. "All right, Decepticons. Let's go."

"I guess that's one good thing about having the Decepticons around," said Gasskunk. "This time we're not the ones walking around half the countryside."

"Yeah, all we have to do is kick back and relax." Darkscream sat back in his chair, arms behind his head. "They can do all the work for us."

"I wouldn't get so happy if I were you. You know how big Megatron is on getting more energy every time we move. He'll probably make us go and find him more once we stop." Slapper swilled the dregs of his beer around and listened to it slap against the sides of the can.

"You think so? I'm kinda' startin' to think he's forgotten about us. I mean, he didn't send us out early this time, did he?"

"Besides," said Gasskunk, "even if you're right, which is more fun: guarding the base or stealing energy?"

Slapper shrugged. "Hey, good point."

Darkscream yawned. "How much longer have we got, anyway? We've been moving for hours."

Sky-byte poked his head into the room and glared at them. "Will you three clowns get out here? We have to be ready to move as soon as we land!"

They got up, groaning. Slapper threw the empty beer can at Darkscream. "Nice going, nutcracker."

Megatron's good humour was obvious from the moment Mega-Octane stepped through the door. It vibrated through the room, and part of the Decepticon wondered how much of it was just his imagination. He delivered his report in the usual style, short and to the point. The move had gone according to plan; the Decepticon Commandos had checked the area and found it clear; they were now returned and would be ready for duty again shortly.

He waited, gaze fixed on Megatron. He was tired, and the dust on his shell was irritating him the longer he stood there. It didn't matter, he thought distractedly: Megatron was pleased.

And if I get out of here in time to get the first chance at the wash rack, so will I.

Megatron gave a short nod. "Excellent. I'll have need of you soon. Our fuel reserves are in sore need of replenishing."

"The Decepticons will see to it, my lord," said Scourge.

"I'm counting on it… and on one other thing." The main screen behind Megatron activated, showing the Predacons clustered around an open hatchway. He turned his chair to face them. "I want to ensure that the engines are in a fit state to actually use the energy you obtain. The state of disrepair the base is in has begun to pose an intolerable risk. Without the proper maintenance, the Megastar could break down at any time. That's why I have Sky-byte and his Predacons cleaning out the lower levels. This is the perfect opportunity to effect repairs in a safe location.

"But while our engines are inoperable, we are unable to retreat." He swung the chair around to face the two Decepticons over his folded arms. "This task must be completed as swiftly as possible so we are ready to move at any time. My entire strategy depends on it!"

"I understand." Scourge bowed his head. Mega-Octane waited behind him to hear their orders. Water-related thoughts were resurfacing, now there was a chance of being dismissed. "What would you have us do?"

"I want the Decepticons to inspect the state of the ship's propulsion systems. Report back to me on their condition."

Scourge is going to love this assignment, Mega-Octane thought wearily. Standing closer than Megatron, he saw the black Decepticon stiffen. Knew it.

"With all respect, sir," Scourge said in a low voice, "the Decepticons are not engineers."

"No," said Megatron carelessly. "However, I gave you your command." He leaned forward. "Don't question mine, Scourge."

Mega-Octane fought the urge to step back, away from the implied and the mech it was directed at. He'd had enough firsthand experience of how reckless Scourge could be with his temper.

It seemed far too long a moment before Scourge bowed. "As you wish, Lord Megatron."

The Spychangers didn't keep their headquarters in Cybertron Base. Theirs was a far smaller, somewhat older complex located in another part of the city entirely. T-AI knew where it was; Optimus Prime knew where it was; Hotshot was happy to observe that so far, all of his team remembered where it was.

Nobody else had any business knowing, which had two useful side-effects: one, if you were deeply involved in what you were doing, no-one was likely to disturb you with knocks on the door; two, if they did, they probably had reason.

If they didn't, W.A.R.S. was allowed (by longstanding arrangement) to greet the intruder with a non-lethal projectile of his choice. He'd only used the privilege once, thank Primus, and as Optimus had pointed out at the time, water balloons weren't going to deter a fire truck.

Which was a shame, because right now Hotshot could have thrown one.

"You've come too soon," he said, as Optimus appeared in the doorway. "We don't have any news for you yet."

"Nothing?" Optimus circled the table with its holographic display and stopped by REV. Hotshot looked across at him and shook his head.

T-AI's holographic image appeared over the map and turned to the Autobot leader. "If I can decrypt Dr. Onishi's microchip and find out what the Predacons want from it, we'd have better luck predicting their movements. But I still need time to work on that."

"With T-AI's help, we've tracked every instance of Predacon activity we know about," REV said, gesturing at the hologram of Earth below her. By now it had sprouted so many red dots Ironhide was calling it the measles map. "If you push it, you could say there's a cluster here and there, but that's probably just to do with the distribution of the energy sources."

"I see. And there haven't been any more sightings of the base itself?"

"Not since the last report we gave you." REV sighed. "Any time we catch sight of it, Megatron takes off on us again."

"A mobile base like that has to cost a lot of energy to run," Hotshot pointed out. "It takes time to stop and refuel, especially when you have to steal the energy. Megatron can't keep running forever. We'll get him - sooner or later."

Optimus folded his arms, frowning at the map. "Is there any way to find them faster?"

REV shrugged. "T-AI's running active searches with the sky-spies; we're investigating Predacon sightings round the clock. As far as pinning down their location goes... well, like you said: the amount of power they use has to leave a whacking great logistical footprint."

"Of course, you know what the problem there is." Hotshot waited until Optimus looked up at him before continuing, "We simply don't know the half of what they're doing. For every raid we do know about, there's probably a dozen smaller missions no-one's bothered to report. If the Decepticons burst into a major power plant, of course we're going to hear about it, but all those unmanned energy facilities where alarms aren't set off…"

"If a company realises they're losing oil, their first thought isn't 'Megatron's sitting on the pipeline', it's a rupture, or other humans sabotaging it," REV agreed dryly. "We tried checking up on oil leaks for a while, and the only criminals we ran into were contractors."

"And the problem's worse when you realise that it's those raids we really need to track," Hotshot said. "If their energy's low, they can't afford to go further afield, so that's when they'll be operating close to home."

"And when they can't afford to pick fights," Optimus agreed. He lowered his arms. "You all know just how short our timeframe is."

"Yeah." REV folded his arms, frowning. "Even if the doctor's a tough one, he'll be lucky to have lasted this long. We can't afford to push his luck."

"I'm afraid it's more than that."

Spychangers and AI looked up at him in concern. Optimus met their gazes one by one before he went on. "The Predacons aren't known for being gentle with their prisoners. On top of that, they're not used to handling organics – and their competence might be a joke for us, but Doctor Onishi's depending on it." He barely hesitated as he admitted, "When the Decepticons asked to join us last week I thought we could use their help… but I think that's another last chance that's slipped from our reach."

"What are you saying, Optimus?" T-AI looked worried.

"The odds of the doctor's surviving this far are dropping every hour. And in the meantime, we're using resources to find him that could be used to protect other people. We have to consider whether it's worth continuing such an intensive search." His voice sounded even; Hotshot wasn't fooled. Saying the difficult thing was a skill in itself, and good leaders got more practice.

"You're not suggesting we give up on him, are you?" she asked in dismay. Hotshot knew how she felt, but the look he shared with REV was resigned.

"I don't plan on giving up," Optimus said firmly. He looked around at all of them, reassuring the room on that point. "But until we've got something solid to work with – like the contents of that microchip, T-AI – we can't afford to spend our time chasing geese instead of Predacons. I want to warn you before I have to throw the orders at you."

"We understand," said Hotshot. And by that I mean 'I've got questions for you, but I won't ask them here'. "We'll keep going with this until further orders."

Optimus didn't say 'this may be your last shot'. He just gave the Spychangers a slow nod. "I know I can count on you. Just keep me posted." He started to move towards the door. He paused to look back at Hotshot. "If there's any way the rest of the Autobots can help…"

Points for persistence, Prime. "Get T-AI an omniscience upgrade and then we'll talk," Hotshot told him with a weary chuckle.

"Hmm." The Autobot leader's amusement was faint, but audible. He gave a nod of acknowledgement and left.

When he was gone, REV turned to Hotshot. "You know, if he actually follows through with that, it'll be your own damn fault."

Hotshot laughed and shared a look with the silent hologram. "I'll risk it."

"Yeah," said REV. "You said that last time, too."

The inside of the first section drew a collective 'urgh' from the Decepticons. At first Armorhide assumed the gloom was because the lights were powered down. It was a second before he noticed that some of them were on – they were just weak or flickering, casting a half-sparked, pale blue light.

That'd have to change, he thought grimly. He was standing in a shallow pool of water, leaked coolant and sludge, only a step inside the door. Rollbar leaned around the edge of the doorway, peering in. The section here was covered in pipes and cables, some visibly jury-rigged and left too long. Armorhide snorted into the damp, stinking air. Even under the slime and oil and crusted salt, it'd be hard to tell what was ship and what was fossilised dolphin.

It was… offensive, in some weird way. He wasn't afraid to get his hands (and everything else) dirty. No time to get fussy when there was a job to be done.

And still… some bit of his instincts grimaced and grumbled and muttered loudly that no engineering section in history should ever look like that. It was plain wrong.

Not that he wanted to fix it.

"Now that's pretty grim," Rollbar commented. He wandered in further. The floor splashed under him. "Is anyone sure there's an engine in there?"

"Well there's got to be something keeping this place going," Ro-tor said, behind them.

The jeep-bot chuckled, looking over his shoulder at Armorhide. "I guess we can't hook a hose up to your tank mode and get ourselves a water cannon."

"Heh." He shook his head. "This lot's way too delicate." He considered the room again. "Too bad: if you ask me this place ought to get a sandblasting."

"Hey, come over here a second!" Rollbar pulled a cloth from somewhere and started scrubbing at part of the machinery like it was his mission. Armorhide wondered if he'd gone funny from the fumes.

"What are you doing?" he asked, exasperated.

"Tryin' to figure out what this is."

"It's an engine," Ro-tor said, not getting it any more than Armorhide did. "Duh."

Rollbar stepped back and turned to them, gesturing so they could see. "Then why does it look like a gargoyle?"

"Predacon maintenance," Ro-tor snorted.

"Yeah, right," said Slapper's voice. The toad-bot was hunched in the doorway. "Like this is our fault. Everyone knows the Pit is the worst place on the base, that's why it's sealed off."

"Yeah, well now Megatron wants it up and running." Armorhide splashed his way over to the door, the others in tow. Slapper moved back in a hurry. "And you Predacons are gonna clean it."

"Well go figure," Slapper muttered. The Decepticons ignored him and pushed past.

Armorhide led the way to the next level. "Wonder how Scourge and Mega-Octane are doing," said Rollbar behind him.

"I'll bet they're not standing on any dead fish," Ro-tor grumbled.

Mega-Octane gave a grunt of effort, and the front of the casing finally came away. He lowered the sheet of metal. Beside him, Scourge's optics narrowed as they inspected the contents of engineering bank six.

"Just like the others," said the Decepticon second. "You know what'll happen if we try to fly this again?"

"Why don't you tell me?" Scourge said coldly.

"I'm not sure." Mega-Octane rested the panel he was holding on the floor. "I don't like what I'm guessing." The flight systems were in a state of total disrepair. Perhaps it was down to hard use and poor upkeep – that didn't matter to the two Decepticons. It was as good as sabotage.

"How are you going to tell Megatron about this?" he asked, looking at Scourge.

The black robot paused with his comm hand already raised and shot him a glance. "Oh, I think Megatron should see this for himself."

Mega-Octane nodded and fell silent as Scourge opened the channel. I hope Megatron was right about this site, because it looks like we're stuck here…