"Yes." Only the Autobots can hear the very slight trace of static and stress in his voice. "Thank you for letting us know, Greg."

Ratchet puts an arm around Endeavour, his optics fixed on his leader. "What do we do now?"

Prime looks at him, then turns to glance at Ironhide, who's quietly cursing to himself just inside the hanger. "Bumblebee, you're on guard duty. Ratchet, you too. Jazz and Ironhide, come with me. Endeavour, will you stay here?"

Greg looks up. "Where are you going?"

Prime shrugs slightly. "To go find some answers."