Setting Mirage down almost forcefully, Ratchet hooked up a proxy-device between them before beginning his scan safely through a firewall.

"...Soundwave?" Ratchet said grimly, question more statement than query. Mirage simply inclined his head, and Ratchet swore under his breath. The way his face only darkened as the reading's came in only reinforced his dire attitute.

Soundwave's viruses were a genuine pain in his skidplate.

Jazz, meanwhile, hovered close to Mirage's form; kneeling down to remain at hand as the noble was scanned.

::The computer console?:: Jazz questioned, switching over a secure, short-range comm-frequency.

::Indeed. It was armed and waiting for me. They knew.::