Note: This is the third story in this series, so if you haven't read the first two I'd recommend doing that first. :)


Age of Smoke Part 1: The Autobot Code

Chapter 1: Sundry Fronts


Smoke rose over the city of Helex, blocking out the stars, illuminated by bright lights and explosions from below.

Prowl's optics darted between his monitor and the big screen that took up half the room. He had several live maps open in his processor as well, and over two hundred comm channels open, both in Helex and in Blaster City.

Sometimes he forgot that he wasn't there, among the fighting and smoke and explosions and death. Other times he almost forgot that the fighting was real amid the hundreds of tasks and decisions and statistics flooding his processor.

Right now, he was very aware of reality—aware that he couldn't help directly, aware that when a comm. line went down, it meant someone was dead.

Earlier battles had been quick. Either the Decepticons had attacked and had been rebuffed, or the city-state had quickly surrendered to them. But now the Autobots had been sucked into a long-term drawn out war for Helex.

And it wasn't going well.

Prowl sent orders to the hundreds of individual units, directing traffic, moving his army like an extension of himself. Thousands of limbs—thousands of guns. Sometimes it was exhilarating. Right now it was anything but that.

He leaned forward, engine growling as a group of soldiers fleeing a fallen outpost was cut off by Decepticon seekers. He could see enemy ground troops approaching the location as well. By the time Prowl got help to his soldiers, it wouldn't be much use—he might end up getting even more mecha captured.

He commed the leader of the unit on a two-way channel, continuing all of his other conversations as well.

"This is Commander Prowl."

The response was prompt. "Commander, what are your orders? We're pinned down and we need help."

"I don't know if I can get you back-up in time. If you leave someone to cover your exit, the rest of you might be able to go up a level and make your way to a safer position."

"Thank you, Sir," the mech said. Prowl sent him some more specific instructions before turning his attention to another issue.

When he checked back a breem later, no one in that unit responded. They'd been captured or offlined.

Prowl didn't let himself dwell on it, pushing it to the back of his processor as he focused on other things. He was doing all he could but they were still losing ground.

There was only so much you could do with inferior numbers, especially since the Decepticons had obviously found a competent strategist somewhere. Prowl checked on the battle in Blaster City, which was being run by some of his subordinates. Things weren't going very well there either.

Another position in Helex fell, but this time, Prowl got most of the mecha to a more fortified location. The line was buckling—he needed to order a mass retreat before it broke.

He started selecting new locations to fortify and pulling his mecha back, consolidating units. A notification popped up in his processor that there was a meeting in half a joor. He couldn't skip the meeting—he'd have to work faster if he wanted his forces to have a defensible position to hold until he got back from it.

He was almost finished when he ran out of time. He debated for an astrosecond, but then decided that he didn't want to be late. On rare occasions he sent subordinates, but this orn he needed to be there in person. He commed Flak, his third in command.

"I have a meeting. I need you to take command until I return."

The mech looked over from his computer console and nodded. Prowl slowly transferred all of his work to Flak, who would distribute it to the rest of the department. He didn't have a battle computer, but he was very good at delegating.

When he was done, Prowl shut down his battle computer, wincing as his exhaustion caught up to him. His helm throbbed as he got to his pedes and crossed the room. His second in command, Hurricane, was recharging on a bench by the door. They were taking turns in shifts, and the other mech should probably go to his quarters to rest, but Prowl didn't care enough to force him.

He left, and arrived to the meeting exactly on time. They waited for a few stragglers and then Optimus called them to order.

"Welcome everyone. I am glad you were all able to find the meeting room," Optimus said.

It was in a central location, which was very nice. In their temporary base, which they had only vacated a few orns ago, the meeting room had been much farther from Prowl's department.

"We have many things to discuss this orn, but we will start with the tactical report. Prowl, the floor is yours."

Prowl stood, though it made his processor ache worse. "Our forces are spread too thin," he said. "We can't continue to hold on all of our battlefronts."

They were disappointed—he knew they had to be disappointed, but he knew he couldn't win this time.

"As much as I abhor the idea," he continued. "I have to recommend that we retreat from Helex and consolidate our troops in Blaster City."

"We would leave the remaining civilian sectors to be overtaken by the Decepticons," Optimus said. "Can we evacuate them?"

"I can try," Prowl said. "Many have left already, or have gone underground. The remainder, if we can reach them and if they are cooperative, can leave with our soldiers."

"Are you sure we have to retreat?" Chromia said.

"We can afford to lose Helex, but we cannot afford to lose Blaster City," Prowl explained. "If we lose Blaster City, the Decepticons will have captured three of the five southernmost metropolises, and they will have Simfur nearly cut off. We can have victory in one city, but not in both."

Running five battlefronts, even with the help of his department, was taking its toll. Three were in smaller city-states, and Prowl had those under control, but the two metropolis battles were difficult. "I'm worried that if we keep our forces split, we may lose both cities and then we would almost certainly lose the entire southern circle."

"Simfur isn't technically allied with us, is it?" Chromia asked.

Elita shook her helm. "No, but we don't want the 'Cons to have exclusive access to the Allspark."

"Ah. Right."

"Prime, Sir?" Prowl said.

"I do not want to abandon a city," Optimus said, looking troubled. "However, if it is what you advise then I am willing to agree to it."

"If you give up Helex, are you certain we can win in Blaster City?" Red Alert asked. "Won't that give them an opportunity to consolidate their troops as well?"

"That's a good point," Ultra Magnus's voice said over the external comm. they had open in the room. He was in Blaster City, commanding from the front lines. "It would take time to retreat and the Decepticons will have time to regroup as well. They could secure one city, and then send soldiers to increase their attack on the other."

For a moment, Prowl wanted to snap at them, to insist that he could handle it and that he knew what he was doing and had obviously considered that. But he held himself back. "That is a valid concern," he said stiffly. "However, with a larger group of our forces together I am confident we can defend more easily against the combined forces of Decepticons."

Silence fell. Prowl's processor throbbed.

"Thank you," Optimus said. "We will consider our plans in that regard later in this meeting. For now, Prowl, is there anything else you have to report?"

Prowl nodded and continued to talk about the various battlefronts he was overseeing.


Blaster reached up and tapped in the code for the door. He wasn't supposed to have it, and he certainly wasn't supposed to use it, but he was fed up with sitting around in the living quarters they'd given him and his guardians. He almost wished that Cam had decided to leave Iacon again instead of staying here on the Autobot base. At least, then, he wouldn't be locked up.

He and his symbionts hurried down the hallway and stopped at the corner. They'd discussed their plans whenever Keepsake and Cam weren't around, and now they were making good on them.

Blaster expanded his range to make sure no one was in the hall, and then beckoned his symbionts to follow him. They crept around the corner. Rewind helped him get the vent cover off, and then Blaster waved everyone into the air duct before following.

"Oh," he said. "Keepsake and Cam will be back in four to five joors so I want to meet here again in two, and then we'll sneak back into the room."

"Got it," Eject said.

"We'll go in groups," Blaster said. "Rewind, you're with Steeljaw, and Eject will stay with me. Let's see if we can map out the whole base."

Cam thought Blaster was being manipulated. Cam thought he wasn't old enough to make his own decisions, but he was. He wanted to help the Autobots, and they needed him. He could find traitors for them, sneak into places, gather information. He wanted to be a spy, and he knew he'd be a great one. Besides, they needed him on their side because he was stronger than Soundwave.

So if they weren't going to give him permission to help, he was going to help on his own.

"What do I do?" Ramhorn asked.

"You stay here and guard this entrance," Blaster said. He wished he had another symbiont with a comm. Then they could warn him if Keepsake and Cam came back ahead of schedule.

"Okay." Ramhorn wiggled past him and settled down for a nap.

The rest of them moved forward through the vent and then split up at the nearest intersection. Within a few astroseconds, Steeljaw and Rewind were out of Blaster's range.

Eject walked ahead of Blaster, who had to crawl.

"This is exciting," he said, grinning. "Our very first top secret mission."

"Yes," Blaster said, expanding his range a little. "Be sure to keep quiet or someone might hear us."

They came to another intersection. Blaster hesitated, unsure which direction he wanted to explore.

"I'll run down one way then come back and tell you what's over there," Eject said.

"Okay," Blaster replied. "Be careful."

Eject saluted dramatically, and sprinted down one dark vent, around a corner, and out of range. Blaster lay down, feeling the atmosphere flow past him. He didn't love small spaces, but he'd done his fair share of squeezing through them when he'd been in the orphanage. He wasn't going to fit in these vents much longer, though. One more upgrade might make it impossible. Hopefully by then he'd have convinced everyone he was useful enough that they should let him help.

Eject came running back. Blaster didn't need him to give a report, but he whispered one anyway. "There's just more hallways I saw through vent covers. And then there's this drop. I didn't see how far down it was, so I didn't want to jump."

"Good," Blaster whispered back. "Let's go the other way then."

He started crawling down the vent with Eject scouting on ahead. "Do you remember that game we watched three off-cycles ago?"

"Of course."

"Remember when the backlobber threw the ball so high and it looked like it was going to bounce off the top barrier, but then it didn't, and it made it through the other team's defense I think that was his best throw all game…"

Eject rambled on, talking about the game and the various players' strengths and weaknesses. At least he was talking quietly.


Mirage looked out from under the overhang at the dismal gray sky. Acid rain fell in large droplets to splash on the streets and agitate the steaming puddles of liquid in the gutters.

"I knew we should have left a joor ago," Blurr said.

"It'll pass quickly," Autoceptor replied. "We're fine."

"But then the ground will be covered in acid," Mirage put in with a sigh. "I hate this place."

"Really?" Autoceptor said. "I would never have guessed. It's not like you complain about it every five breems."

Mirage glared at him.

The old enforcer glared back.

They were here in Kaon mostly to gather rumors about what Megatron's plans were, and what Shockwave was up to. They were hoping for news or information about Autobot prisoners as well. The three of them wore Decepticon insignias, but they still tried not to talk to too many mecha. Blurr was getting better at imitating the locals, but Mirage had a hard time hiding his Iaconian accent.

They'd been here for decaorns, and hadn't been able to accomplish much. If only Soundwave would leave Kaon, they'd be able to infiltrate the Decepticon base, but Jazz didn't want them to try that unless he was absolutely positive the telepath wasn't there.

Mirage wasn't sure how to feel about that.

He did not want to end up captured again, but his patience with their progress—and his team—was running thin. Admittedly, it was nice to have Blurr along, but he was much more used to working alone on more dangerous, less conservative missions.

Blurr crossed his arms, looking thoughtfully out at the downpour. "I think there's a public building around the corner—an archive—that we could take shelter in. If we're fast enough, we won't get too wet."

"Let's not risk it," Mirage said. "We'll wait the storm out, and then find somewhere to stay for the off-cycle. Next orn… Next orn, I want to get closer to the central sector. This place is full of civilians and they know practically nothing."

Blurr nodded.

"Good," Autoceptor said. "Maybe we can actually get something done then."

They waited while the rain came down. Autoceptor leaned against the wall and shuttered his optics. But he was right—the shower passed after less than half a joor.

"Great," Blurr said once the last few waves of drizzle had fallen and the sky cleared. He stepped out into the sunlight, then jumped back, hissing.

Autoceptor chuckled and shook his helm. "Just because the rain's stopped doesn't mean it's not acidic anymore."

"Yeah," Blurr stepped out again, this time careful to avoid puddles.

"All right," Mirage said, "Let's go."

"It's late enough we can find a bar or something," Blurr said.

Mirage frowned. "First I want to make sure we know where we're staying this off-cycle. Come on."

Blurr nodded and followed him. Autoceptor hesitated, but then rolled his optics and followed as well.

They tried to move every decaorn or so. Mirage usually found empty apartments and the like to break into. Hotels were pretty good too, but they cost credit and even though they were using fake designations, Mirage was worried about mecha tracking them.

It was easier when he was by himself—not to mention safer.

They found a nice little room down several stories below the surface of the city, and Autoceptor helped them find a bar. They stopped a few streets away from the establishment and Mirage turned his mod on and went inside, invisible.

He made sure there was no one inside who might recognize them and then went back out and tapped Autoceptor on the shoulder to let him know it was safe. He stayed invisible as he followed them in, careful not to bump into anyone.

Though they came in together, Blurr and Autoceptor didn't talk to each other or act like they knew each other. They went and sat at different tables, and Mirage took up a post by the wall, watching and listening.

It was strange to see how well Blurr fit in this environment. He quickly inserted himself into a group of Decepticon factory workers, and they were chatting like old friends, laughing and getting overenergized—or in Blurr's case just pretending.

Mirage remembered when they'd both been younglings in Translucentica Heights. Blurr had always been the more adventurous of the two, and Mirage's creators had often gossiped about how Blurr's kin were worried about him. But he'd grown up just as refined and poised as any other high-tower noble.

Yet here he was, blending in with a table full of commoners.

Autoceptor was deep in conversation with the mecha at his table. Mirage focused his attention on them for a few breems.

"…really think he can take over the whole world?" one of them was asking.

"I don't know," Autoceptor said. "Maybe."

"Hmph," one of the older mecha at the table said. "Honestly, I'd rather he didn't. I hope he doesn't."

Autoceptor looked down. "I… can't say I disagree with you, friend."

"Be careful what you say," another mech at the table put in. "They've got audios everywhere."

"Yeah?" The grumpy mech said. "Well, Megatron's warmongering hasn't gotten us anywhere. Remember when they said they'd overthrow the old government and we'd all be equal and better off?"

"Yeah," Someone else said. "And things have only gotten worse. I can barely buy energon for my family, and I've got a good job."

"You can always join the army," Autoceptor said.

"And fight? I don't know."

"Come on, mech," Autoceptor said, voice dripping with sarcasm. "You have to help liberate the world if you want a better life."

"Ha!" the mech who'd complained about the price of energon said. "Liberate. You heard about Helex? I got a friend in the army. He says in sector thirty, where he was fighting, they slaughtered all the civilians who wouldn't put on an insignia. He says that wasn't what he fragging signed up for. Megatron never liberated anyone but his gladiator buddies. He's just as much of a tyrant as the old Councils."

"You said it mech!" another mech called out from the next table over, raising a cube of energon.

In a few breems, a group of mecha were crowded around Autoceptor, hating on Megatron's regime, while those who weren't so bold relocated to other tables or left.

Mirage didn't like this—things were getting a little more out of hand than usual, but he couldn't get to Autoceptor without bumping someone, so he went to Blurr instead and tapped him on the shoulder.

Blurr made up some excuse to leave and extracted himself from his table. Mirage followed him outside the building and turned his mod off just for a moment so he could talk. "Head for the spot we picked to stay this off-cycle," he said, then activated his mod again and went back for Autoceptor.

He had to wait longer than he wanted for the older mech to extricate himself. Autoceptor did finally bid farewell to the group he'd been talking with, making some excuse or other. Mirage fell in beside him until they were in a secluded area, and then turned his mod off.

If Autoceptor was startled, he didn't show it.

"Could you have gotten out a little faster?"

"It was going fine," he said. "I've had more heated discussions about Megs' pathetic leadership than that… though granted, not this close to the central sector. And it sounded like there are discontents among the ranks too."

"There always are," Mirage said.

There was a loud bang behind them and they stopped.

Autoceptor looked over his shoulder as sounds of crashing and screaming drifted from the way they'd come.

"You think…" Autoceptor said.

"Keep going. I'll catch back up," Mirage said, and activated his mod. He waited for an astrosecond until Autoceptor reluctantly turned and walked the other way. Mirage could presume his vorns as an enforcer were calling to him to go investigate the ruckus.

Mirage ran, glad his mod masked sound as well as everything else—not that it would matter in all the noise. He passed a frightened mech running the other way.

He stopped around the corner and watched mecha flee the bar, chased by Kaon enforcers. They dragged off a few who he recognized as the most outspoken, but let everyone else go. They didn't trash the place either, which was probably a smart move. The public already wasn't in favor of the government.

Mirage transformed and drove away. He caught up to Autoceptor, who was walking, and transformed back to root mode to join him.

"What was it?" Autoceptor asked once Mirage had turned his mod off.

"Enforcement showed up to break up the mob," Mirage said. "Or something like that. Someone must have gone and told them."

"Anyone hurt?"

"Don't think so. They did arrest one or two so I guess someone might get hurt in the future."

Autoceptor glared at him.

"You know we can't get involved."

"Believe me, if I could, I already would be."

He was a good mech. Too good, actually—that was one reason Mirage didn't like him. He made it hard to ignore things like this. When Mirage was on his own and only cared about gathering intelligence, then he didn't have to think about how Megatron's regime was affecting the common mecha under his control.

They met up with Blurr at the room.

"Hey," he said. "You mechs had me worried. I heard some sort of commotion and then it took forever for you to show up again."

"We walked," Autoceptor said. "And the commotion happened after we were gone."

Blurr huffed out a sigh. "Well, that's good. Guess what?"

"What?" Mirage said, inspecting a rust spot on the wall. The places they had to stay in out here…

"Jazz answered. He says we can try going into Central Kaon. He's given us a list of places to stay away from, though."

"Good," Mirage said. "Then maybe we'll learn something useful and finally be able to go…" Mirage caught himself before saying 'home.' He wasn't even sure where home was anymore. They'd left before the new base had been finished.

"Home?"

"Yes, thank you Blurr, I'd forgotten the word."

Silence fell.

"At least your home isn't controlled by the Decepticons," Autoceptor said.

Mirage crossed his arms. It wasn't good to yell at subordinates for personal reasons so he settled for a burning glare and tried to think of an excuse to leave. His optics drifted to the rust patch on the wall again, and he narrowed them. "I think we're paying altogether too much for a room this rusty. I'll go see if we can get a different one."

He walked out and shut the door behind himself, but instead of going to the front desk, he left the building. The roadways and upper levels of the city above him obscured the sky, but he wouldn't have been able to see the stars anyway.

He needed to calm down, but being down here below ground wasn't going to help.

Autoceptor didn't understand. He was just as bad as the Decepticons in some ways. How was it Mirage's fault he'd been sparked into luxury? And didn't his great possessions just mean he'd lost more than anyone else?

He couldn't stand much more of this abuse and insubordination. He needed to get back to base where he didn't have to be in charge or work with mecha he didn't want to work with.

He hadn't been to the new base yet. He was hopeful that it would be well-designed, though he couldn't shake the nagging fear that Red Alert would have built security systems so ridiculously extensive as to make living there incredibly inconvenient.

And… he should go back inside. Being out here wasn't helping.

He told himself it would be over soon. A few more orns and then they'd go back to Iacon.

But not back home. Mirage didn't have a home anymore. It wasn't controlled by the Decepticons, it was gone, destroyed. And unlike Autoceptor, he hadn't had the opportunity to rescue any of the mecha who had lived there.

He took a deep vent in and let it out before returning to his team.


Notes:

1. I think I said I'd start posting this in early September, but I figured it's close enough. I don't want to wait another week.

2. I apologize for how gloomy this is so far, especially since this year has been kind of awful for a lot of people. This story is about a war that destroys a whole planet, though, so I'm not sure how to make that cheerful. There will be cheerful moments. Sometimes good things will happen. Sometimes.

3. As usual, I'll try to be consistent about posting once a week. I can't make any solid promises though because I am a first year high school teacher in the middle of a global pandemic. Yay.

4. That's all. Thanks for reading!