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sirassban · 4 months ago

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I need this

The Arcturus Missions

Part Thirty Four - Compromise

Part Thirty Three

———

Time for humans is different than time for Cybertronian’s, a life time for some had passed since September the 17th, back in 1984. For most of our pilots it had been more than their lifetime to almost exactly it.

That same amount of time was a drop in the bucket for a Cybertronian, fashioned to live for hundreds of thousands of years, generations lasting dozens of human lifetimes.

The difference is staggering when facing it head on, to look upon life that for one has been a lifetime and the other sees the last blink in their life. For humans the cybertronian lifespan is nearly unimaginable, longer than most civilizations that exist on Earth now.

An extension of life, the shifting perspective of man and machine, the will of a soul to last for longer than it’s supposed to is being researched. Earth is desperate for it’s survival, no matter the cost.

–

The medical tent was still in chaos, though a controlled chaos, as those who weren’t nearly as hurt as they seemed were moved out of the space and the two corners were closed off from each other.

Separating those there in service of the prime and the humans, like a physical cultural divide, the gaping chasm between the two groups. Not dissimilar from the one that had stood between the citizens of Cybertron years before.

Breakdown was still holding back Knockout and Flatline, watching as Hound struggled both with his suit and through his cameras, the man looked at the edge of death.

With a careful hand, Knockout rested it on Breakdown’s shoulder, “Breakdown, can you explain why he’d die?” His voice was shockingly soft, even as his grip tightened. Sighing slowly, Breakdown shook his head a bit, “Not in a way that you’d find justifiable.” Knockout’s fingers dug into the shoulder of his suit, he ignored the strain alerts.

”Then your unjustifiable reason will have to do.” After a look that Breakdown didn’t see, Flatline retreated, nodding a bit, he couldn’t help but sigh as Hound got to his knees and disconnected.

The suit went limp and Knockout nearly slammed into Breakdown’s arm again, “Calm, he is merely in recharge now, as you say.” He kept an eye on Hound in his cockpit though, biting at his lip as the man dragged himself to a comfortable position.

Sighing, he turns to look at Knockout, resting his hands on the strange mechs waist instead of shoulders, not wanting to intimidate. Not noticing his infrared as Knockout’s face grew hot, “This is what happens when us pilots over-tax ourselves, our bodies try to kill us.” Shrugging weakly, he glances back at Hound.

To the world around them, he was completely unconscious, but he was barely conscious even in his cockpit.

“Why?” Knockout’s voice betrayed him, breaking part way through the word, he cleared his throat a bit, “Because, it doesn’t know how to save us and it doesn’t realize the actions we take are to save others, not only ourselves.” He shrugged weakly, “Our wants and our instinct to protect ourselves come into conflict. Some by design, others not, it is simply, life. Messy, complicated, painful, short, and beautiful.” Sighing, he lowers his hands and turns back to Hound.

Staring at him, Breakdown rests a hand on the foot of Hound’s suit, “We live and we die for the betterment of our planet, to protect the innocent, and some of us don’t know the limits of what we’re meant to take. People like Hound want to be the sword and the shield, most pilots do.” He chuckles weakly, squeezing the foot of his friend's suit.

It was like for a moment, he could see the hospital room, holding onto the one thing he could reach, still so young and desperate for just another minute.

Blinking back at the memory, Breakdown pulls back, briefly staring at his hand, “We can’t help it, it’s in, how do you say it, our coding?” He looks over his shoulder at Knockout and freezes.

Knockout was standing there, with Megatron behind him, who was staring at Hound with such pain in his eyes it was hard to describe. Straightening, Breakdown clears his throat, “High Protector, sir.” He salutes even as Megatron waves him off, looking at Hound again before leaving just as quickly as he came.

Both men sighed slowly when Megatron was gone, though Knockout started towards Hound. Breakdown pushed him lightly back, “Leave the man to rest Knockout, that’s what he needs right now.” Shuffling footsteps brought his glance up and he bit back a swear, Sunstreaker did look pretty unsettling without a visor.

“What's going on?” Knockout had hold of Sunstreaker before Breakdown could even blink, moving him back over to his own curtained off area, “You’re supposed to stay put,” he looks over his shoulder at Breakdown, “Our conversation is not over.” Nodding a bit, Breakdown pulls the curtain back closed and lowers his suit down to the stool.

He couldn’t help but stare, frowning down at Hound who was disconnected and curling up on his cot. Well, not really curled up but certainly in pain. It was almost hard to watch, he patched into the comm, “I’ve got watch Hound, get the rest that you need.” Hound hardly waved as he pulled his pillow over his head, sighing slowly, Breakdown sat back and adjust his weight.

—

For it being a medical bed, or the closest thing to it, it somehow was more uncomfortable than the ones back home at headquarters.

Sunstreaker shifted uneasily as Knockout was checking over his cameras, the finest tools in hand and moving nearly painfully slowly. It was making his skin crawl. Shifting again got a wack to his shoulder, “Stop moving or I’ll break the glass.” Sunny grimaced, placing his hands on his seat to hold as still as he could.

There was some shuffling behind the curtain again, though this time several footsteps. Knockout shifted back and poked his head through, keeping his voice quiet for only a moment, “What? No, you can’t come in here right now.” There was a light shuffle behind the curtain, whoever was speaking was either being very quiet or speaking over comms.

With a shift of the curtain, Knockout tried to elbow someone out of the way, before Bluestreak pulled back the curtain. Sunstreaker tried hard not to wince, but he closed his eyes, unable to face him with how gruesome he probably looked, “Oh primus,” “And that’s why I said you can’t come in!” There was a crash and Knockout pulled the curtain closed again, sighing, “I’m sorry Sunstreaker, we're almost finished.” Nodding slightly, he opens his eyes and looks up at Knockout, “I’m good doc, all I need is that sheet of glass.” The look Knockout gave him was unpleasant to have to face.

It was pity, worry and pity smashed into one glance that they kept getting from their allies.

Shifting a bit on the seat, Sunny sighs and puts on a pained smile, “Come on doc, let’s get this over with.” With a nod, Knockout goes back to fixing his cameras, making the lightest tweaks he can. Sunny closed his eyes again.

Time seemed to drag on, every adjustment to a camera was almost painfully loud, each quiet swear from Knockout rang in his head. Sunstreaker only looked back to the cameras when it went quiet, Knockout’s back was to him and Ironhide was staring, holding back Bluestreak.

Raising a hand lightly, Sunny offers an awkward wave and Ironhide smiles sadly, “Hey Civi, how are you feeling?” Shrugging, he shakes his head slightly with a smile, “Feeling fine, how’s things going outside?” Ironhide shrugs a bit, leaning against Knockout, “Eh, not great but that’s just cause it’s sand. Clean up is going good.” Nodding some, he shifts on the medical slab with a smile, “I’ll be out to help when Knockout has my glass reinstalled.” Ironhide nodded slowly, “Don’t be afraid to get some rest kid, we’ll be cleaning for a while.” Slowly Knockout shoved them out and pulled the curtain.

“Don’t listen, they never listen.” Knockout shook his head before moving back over, “Now, sit still and you can run off with your partner after.” Sunstreaker had to close his eyes again as Knockout got back to work.

—

Sideswipe did manage to get the most, with two, as everyone else came up empty handed though he wasn’t sure if that was anything to gloat over.

Sitting at the heater, he leaned forward with his eyes closed, breathing slowly.

Chromia was next to him and the others were shifting through patrols, who weren't asleep or recharging as they’d say, were checking the area, “So, you mentioned the need for humans to sleep more?” Suppressing a yawn, Sideswipe nods and tries not to rub his eyes, “Uh, yeah. Our bodies work on a twenty-four hour day, roughly twelve hours awake and twelve asleep.” Chromia stared, “Always?” Nodding, Sideswipe shrugs a bit.

“It’s just life, you know? One day you’re at home watching your planet get torn apart and the next you’re with an entirely different species being torn up by their unearthly stamina. I swear, I don’t think I’ve ever met someone who can stay up as long as you guys can without a deadly amount of caffeine.” He shakes his head a bit even as Chromia stared still.

She shifts a bit on her seat, “Get some rest Sideswipe, it’s been a long day. Uh, you’ve probably been up longer than you’re supposed to without that, caffeine.” Sideswipe tried not to laugh but nodded a bit, “Let me know if you hear anything from New Kaon?” She nodded a bit and he shifted back before darkening his visor, moving about to get unplugged.

It had been a long day, a very long day.

—

It took hours to get the glass installed, Sunstreaker had managed to get in a nap which was nice, almost snoring. Knockout had to rap against the glass to get his attention, “Sunstreaker, we’re done. Take a look and let me know if everything is alright.” Sitting back up slowly, Sunny was quick to adjust his settings, bringing the world back into focus. Into a clearer focus than it had been in years.

“Wow Knockout, it’s so clear.” Knockout, hummed and was moving a dish filled with the broken glass to the side, “It’s just standard visor materials, minus the ocular connections.” He was frowning at the dish in his hands, “What was your visor made out of before?” Sunstreaker almost shrugged but stopped to stare at the dish, at the slightly tinted glass and the fractures running through it, “I… Uh, I-I don’t know.” Shoving up, he stands and stretches.

Glancing back at the dish, his throat tightens, “Why do you ask? There something wrong with the glass?” Sighing, Knockout holds it up to get a closer look, “If a visor is made right, even if it were to crack, it shouldn’t shatter the way yours has. The way your companion Breakdown mentioned to the Prime, that this happens frequently.” He needed to get the sample away from Knockout, his gut was twisting up in knots.

He had to think for only a second before pinging Bluestreak, leaning a hit on the slab casually, “Maybe it’s just a thing about our visors from home?” And then Bluestreak did the incredibly stupid, pushing through the curtain and bumping into Knockout, hard, “Hey, Knockout, is Sunny doing okay?” And the small dish fell and smashed on the floor. Scattering the ruminants of his busted visor.

”Bluestreak!” Knockout turned as Blue ducked around him, wrapping his arms around Sunstreaker’s middle with an almost prattled ease, “Is he going to be okay Doc?” Knockout was attempting to look over his back, “If you scratched my paint—“ “I’ll pay to get it fixed! Sunny, you feeling okay?” Sunstreaker was relieved, putting an arm around Bluestreak, “I feel fine Blue, come on, I want to check on Hound.”

With a not-so-subtle tug, they slipped past the preening Knockout, he only sighed when the curtain was tugged back shut, “Fuck.” Shaking his head, Sunstreaker looked at Bluestreak and smiled a bit, “Thank you.” Bluestreak smiled sadly, “Your welcome. Mind telling me why I did that?” Sighing, Sunny peaks past the curtain in on the area where Hound was, who was still asleep.

Shaking his head a bit, he pulls back and leads Bluestreak outside, “He was going to study my old visor, I don’t know if our glass is made differently.” Blue hummed and gently takes Sunny’s hand, leading him towards a heater set up with a few others from their unit, “Come on, you should get some rest and let everyone know you’re not dead.” Sunstreaker couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled up.

—

It felt like he was waking up from death, it was the only way of describing it. Groaning painfully, the pillow over his head was just a bit of relief. He felt like death warmed up and all Hound felt like doing was going back to sleep but if his watch was even remotely right he’d slept for a while.

Stretching painfully, he brushes a hand over his implants and sighs slowly, they for the first time in weeks they were dry. Scabbed but dry. Peeling back the gauze and bandage, he drops it to the floor for the moment. Breathing was painful but he couldn’t help but take in a deep breath to let out a sigh of relief. His entire body hurt, every inch of it, but the relief was far more overwhelming a feeling. Though not out of the woods yet, there was something about knowing the hurdle he’d been throwing himself towards was passed him.

There was another long moment before he pushed up from the cot and swung around to put his feet on the floor. The room spun for a moment as he reached down for his water and toiletry kit, sipping water while trying to get out his toothbrush. He was thankful that his cockpit was dark and familiar, able to grab what he needed without specifically seeing it first.

Toothbrush in mouth, Hound finally got up and shuffled towards where he’d left his assistance suit. He didn’t even cringe anymore at swallowing the weird toothpaste substitute Jazz had made, it wasn’t minty but it also made his teeth feel cleaner than the paste pods that had gone up with them on the Odyssey. Tucking the toothbrush back in the toiletry bag, he starts to shuffle on his assistance suit.

It felt lighter than it usually did, clipping everything into place, though his hands were shaking slightly. Even balling his fist didn’t prevent the tremor. Sighing slowly, he moved slowly over to the piloting seat and lowered himself down to it carefully. Picking up his helmet as he started to online the basic parts of his suit, bringing up logs and cameras without connections yet.

The light was painful, blinding even, Hound winced and raised a hand carefully, “God, damnit.” He turned down the brightness and started to adjust the cameras more carefully, frowning at the ceiling view he had, “Ah.” He pulled up a few other camera and finally got a view that would give him a clue of the outside.

Mirage.

Mirage was there.

Why the hell was Mirage there?

The poor mech was sitting on a stool, with his head on the end of the medical slab, clearly asleep.

It reminded him of, oh god.

Clearing his throat painfully, he continues to adjust the camera and Breakdown comes back into the space, moving to sit as well. His visor was darkened slightly, the outward sign that he was tired, probably exhausted. Shifting in his seat, he pings Breakdown.

The spaced was silent for a moment, for longer than a moment, before Breakdown picked up, “I figured you sleep for a while yet.” Hound smiled weakly, shrugging a bit, “I feel fine.” Scoffing, Breakdown shook his head, “You are a terrible liar.” He couldn’t help the pained chuckle, shaking his head too, “I know.” Sitting back a bit, Hound sighed slowly and hung his head.

They sat in silence together, before Hound looked back up, “How long was I out?” Breakdown shrugged a bit, “Just shy of fifteen hours, you had The Crash around eleven yesterday. It’s the middle of the night now.” Nodding slowly, Hound looked at his hands for a while, turning them over and checking over the assistance suit slowly.

“It was worse than I thought it was, I just wanted to get past it, being more susceptible towards it.” His voice was quiet, wiping at his hands weakly, “When it was happening, I was hallucinating that it was the first time I went through the crash.” Breakdown nearly jumped out of his seat, “What?” Hound sighed, “When I was a hunter class, the reason why I became a striker class. I just, forgot.” It was easier to say that he'd forget than admit it hadn’t been there before, “Hound.” He closed his eyes, hanging his head again, “God Breakdown, I forgot. It’s not like any of you changed class, I don’t think you go through it every time you hit that wall in overuse, just, when you’ve been really fucking stupid.” He rubs his face.

Breakdown worried his lip, shaking his head slowly, “We’ll speak to Jazz about this when we get back to Cybertron, but for now, it’ll stay between us.” Nodding, Hound sat back, brushing his hand over his implants, before glancing back towards Mirage, “How are the Cybertronian’s taking it?” Breakdown groaned and shook his head.

Hound winced, “That bad?” Breakdown gave him a look and Hound sighed, “Damn.” Nodding some, Breakdown unplugged as his suit sunk, rubbing at his implants, “They are worried, of course, Prowl has been on comms with the crew's new commanders for hours.” Hound winced again, he wouldn’t wish one of Prowl’s lectures on anyone, “Fantastic.” Sighing, he picks up a water pouch and starts to drink.

“I don’t wish to ask, but I have to know. What did it feel like, Hound?” Breakdown’s voice wavered slightly and Hound shook his head, keeping his gaze down, “No, no I’m not going to tell you. You are one of the least likely of us to go through the crash, ever, so you don’t need that eating your brain.” He sighed and put down his water, shifting in his piloting seat, “I’m gonna eat then let everyone know I’m okay, you get some sleep.” Breakdown started to shake his head but Hound leaned forward, “BD, we can’t all be pulled to the breaking point, get some rest.” They shared a look before Breakdown nodded and disconnected the comm.

Hound sat back and stared at the screens and looked around the cockpit slowly, getting back up to get real food. Not the stuff that would just sustain his life but actual food, sighing as his fingers brushed lightly over the connector cables. A shudder ran up his back briefly, entirely involuntary, sighing he sat down to put together something decent to eat.

He’d have to connect soon regardless, or else fear would root in.

The bowl was at least decent, just a new cube, the food though was still hard to get used to. Poking at it with a fork, Hound sighed, the pink goop was steaming lightly. Not needing much effort to heat other than the quick stir that was instinct now. The crystal like structure would break and heat before turning to a near porridge texture.

It was delicious but just didn’t have an appetizing appearance. Far to pink to let his stomach settle, a denser and warm Pepto-Bismol in his mind. Lacking much smell at all other than hot starch. It made his stomach turn and he had to turn away from it, taking slow, deep breaths.

Not now, not after everything. Sighing, he closed his eyes, he started to eat even as his stomach turned uneasily. Thankfully, it tasted good, and the nausea ebbed.

All the favor was almost simple, salty and soft with just hints of something that was still foreign to him. The closest memory that he had to this would be a slightly over salted parmesan pasta. Like someone had sprinkled salt on the parmesan rind, before adding it. Someone trying to make the last of it stretch for just one more meal.

Only when the cube was empty did Hound open his eyes, staring at the grated floor of his cockpit for a minute or more.

Dread was already starting to fill the gaps that normally held confidence, shaking his head, Hound got up and moved back to his piloting seat. Standing there, he picked up the connector and held it for a moment, taking slow, deep breaths.

“Fuck me, I guess.” And connected.

The wash of his systems didn’t even hurt, just the familiar comfort he’d lived with for the better part of a decade, at least. Sighing slowly, he looked up and the suit responded in par.

Slowly, he sat up and stretched, the cockpit washed away as the unnatural connection took hold, stretching his fingers lightly and tilting his head one way then the next.

Blinking slowly, he took a breath, shifting the weight of the suit finally and dislodged his foot from under Mirage’s hand. Swinging them down to the floor. Mirage shot up quickly, optics onlining in an instant and Hound raised his hands lightly, “Hey, it’s alright.” Mirage’s breath slowed and he stared.

”Hound, are you alright?” Hound smiled a bit and nodded, “Yeah, I’m okay.” Sighing, Mirage shifts a bit, stretching his back, “What happened? I was told you were brought in basically unconscious.” With a slow nod, Hound tries not to rub at his neck.

Worrying his lip briefly, he turns to face Mirage, “We’re not made to go for as long as I did, or as hard.” Shrugging weakly, Hound shakes his head again, “I’ve been experiencing overuse for right around the last month or so, maybe longer, but overuse is the first sign of potentially facing the crash.” Mirage nodded slowly, “Which can kill you?” “Which can kill a pilot, yes.”

Hound got up and offered a hand to Mirage, “Come on, I hate being in medical.” Mirage looked at it before taking it, Hound helped him up before heading out, leaving Breakdown to rest.

Mirage followed, watching Hound carefully, “Why are you so calm about this?” Humming, Hound tilted his head slightly, “I love being a pilot, what I do is important.” Mirage frowned, “Not as important as your life.” And Hound tried not to smile even as Mirage’s face heated.

“What life? Honestly, being a pilot is my life. Even back home, if you're a pilot that is your identity, it is more than just what you do, it's a way of life and is the life that you live. More than just being a career military, if you're a pilot then every moment is that. Being a pilot.” Shaking his head a bit, he sighed, “I love what I do, but it’s more than that. It’s who I am now.” Mirage stared, walking with him slowly.

Glancing at him, Hound shook his head again, “You don’t understand it, but I don’t expect you to.” Mirage shook his head, “Hound, you could have died, for what?” Closing his eyes, Hound sighs, “New Kaon.” “For a city and people you don’t know.” Nodding a bit, Hound smiled sadly, “On Earth, I defended countries where I did not even speak the language,” He looked at Mirage.

They stared at each other, “Breakdown and I don’t even share the same first language, he defends a country he was raised to hate, and I might not know New Kaon inside and out but it’s still people that my unit cares for. That’s what’s important.” Mirage took his shoulders, shaking him.

”Hound, your life is worth more than you let it seem! You're important!” Shaking his head, Hound sighs, “Mirage, I know what my life is worth, but I’d die defending you and your kind. You know this.” Shaking his head, Mirage stared at him, “Why?” And the word rang loudly in his mind.

Why, why would he have died for these mecha, for this cause, for this painful life.

Because he loved it and them.

Nudging Mirage’s hands off, Hound shrugs a bit and looks at the horizon, “The joy of being a human is knowing that none of us are the same, we all think and act differently, we’re unique even in our similarities. Some would and do think I’m crazy like you seem to, but pilots, they get me. Because pilots have to be willing to risk everything to save everyone.” He shrugs a bit.

Looking back up at the stars, he sighs slowly, “Dying doesn’t scare me Mirage, regretting not doing what I can does.” He looks to Mirage and smiles, tilting his head slightly, “I don’t think I could live with myself if I didn’t do everything I could to help, the regret would eat me alive.” Mirage shivers, resting a hand on Hound’s shoulder.

“Why did you push yourself to that crash Hound,” His voice broke and Hound closed his eyes, “Because I hadn’t felt that alive in a very long time and I want to feel that way every minute until I die.” Carefully, he leans his head towards Mirage and they gently lean into each other. His head still angled up to look at the stars.

They were twinkling in the distance, “I was meant to die on this mission, I want to feel alive until the very moment that I’m not anymore.” Mirage’s arm wrapped around his back, and he did the same for Mirage, both staring at the stars, “I don’t want you to die Hound, you’re more than a pilot.” Closing his eyes again, Hound hummed quietly, “You all seem to want to remind of us that, but it’s slightly hypocritical to say that and then have the commanders forget our limits.”

He sighs, “Humans have limits Mirage, you’ve gotten your first proper glimpse at how much more fragile our lives are, you sure you want us out there with you?” Mirage shifts to look at Hound, “We’re keeping you here until you realize how valuable your life is, no matter if you sleep for an entire week or year.”

Hound laughed and shook his head, “It’s freezing, let's find a heater, you can talk about how precious life is there.” So they left the stars as they were, though arms still around each other comfortably.

———

A/N

I’m finally starting to feel better! Yay! Now, this chapter was meant to be a time skip chapter, a recap of what is going on in the time skip.

Clear that’s not this chapter and now next chapter, this arc of the story is finally wrapped up. What is like… a couple week period from around part 13 to now.

I am so excited for this first (second?) time skip, so much is going to start happening.

TAGS

@lunarlei68 @whirlywhirlygig @loop-hole-319 @pixillandjester @alek-the-witch @not-a-moose-in-disguise @goddessofwind8water @neurologicalglitch @dersereblogger @pixel-transformers @mrcrayonofdoom @wireplaces @twilightfreefaller @original-blog-name-2 @devilangel657 @robbin-u @miniartistme @starwold @tea-enthusiasm @valeexpris606 @celticdoggo @bird599 @agentsquirrelsgotrobots @aquaioart @thatwandercat @artdagz @seisha974 @halenhusky309 @leethepiper @cat-cassette @blue-wrens @sirassban @cosmique-oddity @garbageenthusiast @xervias @azulabutterfly @fryseem @spring-mc @echo-circuit @aghostsnail @wooblewooble @ask-glory-haddock-and-others @nonsscrapheap @magichats @iminahole247 @omgflyingderpywhale @thetrexartist @naaaafam @elegantmantaray @emichusai @waterlilykitty @diabolichare @ham4ponyo @osqindaxend @sunnyvibesanddoodles @ratatatata248 @ijustneedausernaneplease4444444 @sprook-children @fooolisher

And once again thank you to @Keferon for this amazing AU

#transformers #maccadam #the arcturus missions #tf mecha universe #tf mecha au #mecha pilot jazz au #mech pilot jazz au #breakdown #knockout #hound

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sirassban · 5 months ago

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The Arcturus Missions

Part Twenty Six - Feelings

Part Twenty Five

———

Pilots seem to come from all walks of life, it really depends on how or who recruited them. As the death tolls rose, they started scouring the Earth for compatibility in every place that was reachable by both government agency and private industry.

Compatibility testing is not standardized across the planet, across agencies, or private companies.

Those first few years a significant portion of pilots were underage, found more compatible than older people, the youngest pilot back in the start of the program was registered at thirteen years old. After years of regulation, it was made mandatory that pilots must be of the same age to enlist to become a pilot.

As the number of attacks increased and the number of pilots was rapidly decreasing, many of those regulations were repealed in certain countries; namely the US.

It is legally viable to become a mech suit pilot as young as fifteen in the United States if they are found compatible. One private company accepts people that young for compatibility testing, while the written test is now given with the selective service paperwork to boys once they turn eighteen.

The written test is offered with voter registration, but not required.

—

Archa Three was in a system with two nearby stars, the one the planets actively orbited around and one of an extremely close system. At night the sky would shine with the distant planets and stars, Bluestreak was enjoying the night sky in the quiet. Arm around Sunstreaker’s shoulders, staring at the stars reflecting in the water.

It had only been a few minutes from when Bluestreak went quiet to Sunstreaker falling asleep, the suit slumping just enough to alert him. Ex-venting slowly, he kept his arm comfortably around Sunstreaker, staring at the horizon.

Until his comm buzzed and he nearly growled. Answering silently, “What?” The bite in his voice would have been enough to scare most people, but the voice on the other side of the comm laughed.

Though he was still laughing, it took Prowl a moment to clear his voice, “I apologize, I didn’t realize you were so invested with your overnight watch.” Bluestreak’s face burned, “Oh just shut up, fragger.” Prowl chuckled lightly again, shaking his head a bit.

Prowl and Jazz were on the edge of Paraxus, as Jazz had left Iacon sometime during their hectic day, leaving Sideswipe and Breakdown on effective lockdown in the Iacon apartment. Paraxus though the city was still rebuilding from the war it had become a tactical hub at the start of the battles with the Quintessons, realizing it could not and would not remain neutral to destruction again.

“How is Sunstreaker handling the change in command?” Prowl was keeping his voice down, likely meaning even on internal comm that Jazz was asleep somewhere nearby. Glancing down at the sleeping mech, Bluestreak smiled a bit, “It’s going like you thought it would.” Humming, Prowl fell quiet for a moment.

Bluestreak leaned his cheek against Sunstreaker’s helm, turning up his sensors. Checking the perimeter cameras and sensors with a quick scan, humming then, “He’ll be fine, just has to communicate.” He could almost feel the teasing from the other end of the comm, “That’s why I paired him with you and Ironhide.” Rolling his optics, Blue tucks one servo against Sunny’s side.

“He’s been angry, really angry then so calm. Is that normal or something that’s just Sunny?” Prowl ex-vented slowly, and Blue knew he shifted his weight. One of the mechs few tells, “So, not just Sunny?” Humming again, Prowl shook his helm slowly, “When Jazz went through overuse, it wasn’t this bad. But for him it was fight or die, he couldn’t show who he was. With Sunny and the others, they are out of their suits enough that every time they go back in it’s worse, but this is how they do things on Earth.” Venting shallowly, Blue shifts closer to Sunny, who seemed to move closer and lean more into him.

Looking back out at the ocean, Bluestreak stared, “They're more stubborn than a miner from Tarn.” Prowl’s comm cut out briefly, likely to choke back his own laugher which brought the slightest smile to his face, after a moment Prowl returned, “That is certainly one way of phrasing it, so then, how are things going for your relationship?” It took everything in Blue to not make a sound, gears grinding painfully as he adjusted in his seat.

Prowl just waited, probably wearing his stupid smirk on his faceplates, “It’s fine. Thank you for asking, you slagger.” The chuckle rang through the comm, “These things change and grow, human relationships are different from ours, not horribly so but different enough.” Venting slowly, Prowl stared out the window of the habsuite he was in, Jazz sleeping on his shoulder like Green would, “You have to have meaningful conversation, not just talking at him.” Blue rolled his optics.

The sand was warmed from the suns in this system, but even now away from the heaters it was starting to cool quickly, “We talk.” Prowl hummed, “Sunstreaker is the quietest human I have ever met, versus you.” “Hey!” Trying to hide his grin, Prowl cleared his vocal components briefly, “I am just saying, you two are different. That’s not a bad thing, it just means you both have to have patience.” And Bluestreak’s face burned, glancing down at Sunstreaker.

Though he could see him, he knew the real Sunny was asleep somewhere safe, tucked inside the suit and away from the toxic and corrosive things this planet seemed to be blanketed in, “Yeah, patient.” He vented before looking back out at the ocean, nodding a bit, “I’ve gotta get back to watch, say hi to Jazz for me.” Prowl glanced over at his own companion who was sound asleep, “I will once he wakes up, keep a vigilant optic Bluestreak.” Bluestreak hummed before disconnecting the comm.

He checked over the cameras and sensors, nodding a bit before going back to scanning the horizon. The way Sunstreaker reacted to the Quintesson ship was more than instinct, it was personal anger.

It would be something that they’d have to talk about some cycle, but Blue figured it would be the same one where he explained the so-called inside joke, “Ah, Primus.” he chuckles lightly and shakes his head a bit.

—

Staying connected to the suit while asleep was not smart or safe, but many pilots had done it before and many would do it after Sunstreaker was gone. It exacerbated overuse symptoms and increased the chances of the crash, but sometimes it was easier than dealing with the after effects of disconnecting.

The suit jolted at the same time Sunstreaker did, still connected even in his sleep, and he was gasping for air. He couldn’t see as his cockpit was shrouded in darkness.

A hand collided with his chest and he tried desperately to grab it, “No,” his voice was choked, struggling to get air in and out, the hand on his chest shoved him down, “Relax!” Sunny wasn’t familiar with whatever the muffled voice was saying. Finally, he hits the emergency start up for his visual feed.

Ironhide was over him, pinning him to the sad, practically snarling at him, “Online! Fragging online!” Sunny’s visor brightens just a bit as the rest of his external feeds kick online, sand was spraying all over them, “What the hell?” Ironhide pulls him up and points, “We’ve got company!” He stared for a moment before swearing and online the rest of his suits systems, “Damnit, damnit!” He grabs hold of the controls and adjusts the suit to standing.

The beach was in chaos, it was just shy of morning and there were craters everywhere. It looked so much like the field in Santa Monica. Sunstreaker finally got his head up and stared for a long moment, it was only one ship but it was doing a lot of damage, meaning Sunstreaker had probably pissed them off.

Ironhide still had him by the shoulder and pulls him back behind cover, “When I put you on overnight watch that doesn’t mean give it to Bluestreak so you can recharge!” Hitting the sand again, Sunny groans slightly, “I didn’t mean to fall to sleep! Fuck, alright, just let me handle this.” He slowly rolls and pears over their cover at the ship that was shooting at them.

He could just see Bluestreak tucked in cover, holding his shoulder with his rifle leaned against his side, “Goddamnit, I can’t even get a decent nights sleep.” With a deep sigh, he adjusts the extension for his bracers before going over the cover and towards the gunfire.

—

Sand was still blowing against his suit and it had been hard to sleep, but it wasn’t entirely unpleasant. Hound had disconnected from the suit for the most part, but kept a screen up with the external feel along with a hold on Mirage’s arm.

He was sitting on the floor, helmet off and eating while watching the outside for the clearing of the storm. Every few minutes Mirage would shift them both and send him tilting the other direction. If he got motion sick, it would make the experience only mildly unpleasant. Right now, he didn’t mind.

The external audio was turned down, mostly wind noise, but some of it was Mirage’s murmurings. Some of it even sounded like praying. Sighing slowly, Hound leaned against the side of his piloting chair, adjusting again as Mirage’s grip shifted again. Grabbing his helmet, he pulls it on before turning on his comm and pinging Mirage.

It took a second for Mirage to answer, “I thought you were asleep.” Hound smiled a bit and leaned his head back against the arm of his chair, “I slept for a bit, but after a while the wind isn’t just white noise anymore.” With a hum, Mirage shifted again, “Are you comfortable?” He chuckled lightly, “Yes Mirage, I’m alright.” Hound sighed slowly.

The wind was still howling, “How close to sunrise are we?” Hound closed his eyes for a moment, breathing slowly, “Only a few klicks or so, least it should be.” Hound nodded then hummed, realizing his mech wouldn’t move, “And then we find the source of the storm?” Mirage chuckled lightly, “If there is one, yes.” he sighed slowly and held Hound that little bit closer.

Hound slid a bit on the floor and tried not to laugh as he adjusted, “I really am fine Mirage, sandstorms happen on Earth too.” But the mech remains quiet and Hound’s breath caught, “Mirage?” There was a moments pause, “Yes?” Sighing slowly, Hound stood, “Do they have storms like this on Cybertron?” And Mirage sighed shakily, “Not where I’m from, no.” Hound stared at his visual feed for only a moment longer.

Back in his chair, he connected with a bit of a jolt and moved quickly, trying not to hurt Mirage while he moved them both. The wind was trying to shove his suit back to the ground and Mirage wasn’t much help, wiggling and thrashing before finally they had switched places.

Hound was now pinning Mirage to the ground, though not face first in the sand, and Hound’s mech was cradling the poor man’s head, “You should have said something.” He really couldn’t see Mirage, the sand was that dense in the dark, but he had him on infrared, “You were asleep when the storm hit and I couldn’t wake you. I was fine.” Hound scoffs and shakes his head, “You’re insane.” But he continues to hold Mirage’s head away from the ground.

To be fair, Hound knew if he wasn’t in his mech, it would be incredibly awkward to hold any person like this. Watching Mirage’s face get warmer on infrared was proving that fact, but he just held on as still as the suit would allow, “Back home, I’m from essentially a desert. I only lived there a few years but it’s still home.” Mirage’s optics turned towards his visor, though Hound wasn’t sure if he could see him through the storm.

“We didn’t get storms this bad and there wasn’t a ton of sand, but we’d still get them. We’d also get the densest fog you’d ever see.” Hound just hoped that his talking would help keep the poor guy calm, he sighed slowly.

Clearing his throat a bit, Hound lowers his head slightly and closes his eyes, “On Earth, more specifically back home, out in the fields on the really windy days we’d get very weak tornados that would really only move the dust around. They were small and harmless, but they’d still send sand and crap into your eyes. Uh, they were called dust devils, I think. But it could be the most clear and beautiful day and it would be ruined by the fucking sand.” His helm lightly touched the edge of Mirage’s chest plating.

Mirage was staring, just able to see Hound through the sand and to say the least was deeply embarrassed. It was one thing to be frightened by a sand storm, it was another to be comforted by the most oblivious mech in the universe. His own hands had been stiff at his sides, as Hound’s had held his head just above the sand, the poor mech's elbows buried in sand. Slowly, painfully slowly he’d rested his hands back around Hound who just kept rambling on about Earth.

It really was a comfort to listen to him, and Mirage smiled softly, brushing a hand lightly up Hound’s side, “Earth sounds so nice.” Hound looked up, visor brightening, “I miss it, sometimes.” He sighed slowly, shifting slightly in his chair while keeping the suit as still as he could. His implants felt like they were burning and the skin around them was swollen, “But the work is here. I wouldn’t wish to be there, when there’s so much to do here.” He smiled a bit, “Do you feel better?”

Mirage really wanted to punch the oblivious idiot, “Yeah, I do.” Hound smiled, “Good, I’m glad.” He lowered his suit’s head back down, “Get some rest Mirage, I’ve got you till the storm breaks.” Mirage stared at him like Hound had grown a second helm, the mech was insane and oblivious. Rolling his optics a bit, he vents out.

Tapping a few things in the controls, Hound locks up the suit, keeping it in place. He doubted it was the most comfortable thing for Mirage, but it might be the most comforting. Yawning, he removes his helmet and tosses his legs over the arm of his piloting chair, “God, it had to be the middle of the night, didn’t it?” Mirage chuckled in the dark, “That is the way things go.” And Hound smiled, closing his eyes.

—

The room was pleasantly dark and the bed decently comfortable, his arm thrown over his eyes. Since it was just himself and Sideswipe, the apartment was almost pleasantly quiet. It had been hard, the first few days of bed rest but his overuse symptoms had been limited before the concussion and he had yet to be back in the suit since.

Almost all overuse symptoms were gone, though Breakdown had experienced them in the past. His were slightly different from the Americans, as his implants didn’t bleed or drain, as most of the skin around them had been cauterized. It was only once on loan to MECHA did any of his integrated hardware get updated.

Almost all of the new stuff was still in fact new. For the twins, their implants and things were only a few years old, Hound and Jazz had had them for almost or around ten years, as had Breakdown with his original integrations. The ones for the upgrades though, those only came about in the last year or two, they would still itch and burn.

Right now his right arm was burning and he thought about getting up to get some water to put on it, but Sideswipe’s music was being played at unbearable levels in the living room.

So, Breakdown just turned over and tried to go back to sleep.

Sideswipe was playing his music while checking through part of the wiring on his suit, nodding along to the few familiar sounds from home that were withstanding. At the end of the week, if Breakdown was cleared by Jazz, he’d be shipping out to join Megatron and Hound while Sideswipe was still wondering who on earth this Elita-One person was.

They couldn’t be that bad, most of who he’d met had been nice enough. Sometimes a little scary but he doubted anyone reached Megatron’s level of intensity.

The little comm on the wall started to ping, which would go ignored until Sideswipe could get his helmet microphone working again, so it would just sit there and ping. He swore loudly as the wires he connected burned his fingers lightly, kicking his assistance suit off the table.

Breakdown covered his ears and turned into his pillow.

—

It wasn’t particularly hard to disable its small shuttle craft, these were run of the mill and more typical back home than they had been in the nearly seven months that they’d been among the Cybertronian’s. Then again, they were fighting an army of these freaks compared to the one or two that was able to topple an Earth city.

Sunstreaker was breathing heavy, mask back on as the air in his tanks was starting to drain with the exertion, “Fall back!” He throws his arm behind him a bit, tangled with the Quintesson, whose ship was above them and still laying down covering fire through the cybertronian camp, “Sunstreaker, don’t be stupid!” Ironhide was behind him, just barely covered by an overturned crate and holding his arm.

It was singed and sparking painfully.

Barely sparing a glance over his shoulder, Sunstreaker drags his blade across one of the tentacles of the Quintesson, splattering his mech in that familiar disgusting green, “Ironhide, fall back and get the others to a safe distance! That ship isn’t going to be able to stay up there if it uses up all its energy on the covering fire!” The Quintesson quickly tugged him back and screamed, trying to pry at his plating.

Someone yelled loudly and several blaster shots came incredibly close to Sunny’s visual feed, one camera cutting out with a flash as he swung around, foot colliding with the beak of the enemy. It shrieked and reeled back, Sunny bringing one of his bladed bracers down on it again, splattering more green across the light sand.

There was no more yelling behind him and he could finally focus on just the fight, Ironhide pinging him to alert him of their retreat location. With a bit of a smile, Sunstreaker dove at the monster again, pulling at its limbs with a horrific squelching noise. Wrapping its limbs around his arms and pulling, tearing them away from the alien and cutting them when they wouldn’t give, it screamed and tried to get hold of his legs again.

He stomped on it and headbutted the thing, though he thought for a second he heard his visor crack, another camera was quick to pop offline, which he doubted was a good thing. Sunstreaker was still able to maintain his entire visual feed, resorting to auxiliary cameras.

This particular specimen had denser skin than other Quints he fought, harder to pull apart and nearly impossible to cleave in two without Sideswipe there, but he was still trying. Spraying the beautiful beach in green as the ship above lets out its final pathetic shots on the distant sand, its menacing hum turning into a pathetic whine.

It started to let out an alarmed sound, which caused the Quintesson to look up and gave Sunny the perfect moment to jump forward, arm going half way deep into its body. It gurgled briefly, spraying the front of his mech greener still, before its tentacles fell from around Sunstreaker and it’s body gave way. It almost dragged Sunny to the sand too.

He hardly had a moment to catch his breath before turning than diving the other way, the absurdly large scout ship crashing onto the beach where it’s energy cells were quick to explode upon impact. Spraying the once beautiful organic paradise in a horrible mix of technological and organic shipwreck. Leaving the beautiful beach on fire.

The concussive wave hit last, slamming into Sunstreaker’s suit like a perfectly placed punch, enough to knock the wind out of him.

Laying in the sand, the water comes up and brushes over parts of his mech and Sunstreaker tried not to laugh. There, on the beach, staring up at the brightening sky, it really did remind him of home for a long moment.

Chuckling and sitting up, he rubbed a hand over his covered face, moving to remove the oxygen mask before stopping. Starting. The hand of his mech had glass sticking in its seams, a light blue glass, “Oh shit.” He didn’t know how bad it would be, but that would be a part that would be incredibly difficult to replace or explain having to replace.

With a shove off the ground, he pulled up the coordinates sent to him by Ironhide and started that way, a few mechs already appearing from around the area to try and start putting out the fire. A few had upgrades that were able to put down extinguishing agents.

Sunstreaker kept walking, even as a few people he knew stopped to gawk at him, which was not a good sign to be able to explain this away.

It got even worse when Flatline came running up to him, the mech was large and intimidating but an incredible medic, “Sunstreaker, you need to stop, just hold still!” His hand lightly grabbed Sunstreaker’s suit, and Sunny pulled back, holding up his hands lightly, “It looks worse than it is, I swear.” Poor Flatline looked horrified, “There are going to be mechs who actually need your help, cause of the explosion and stuff.” Sunny added lamely.

This was not going to help his case, even as he kept backing up, now in the tree line and edging close to where Ironhide had ordered the retreat to. More mecha were gawking at him or even gasping, this was bad, “Sunstreaker, it is more than just appearing incredibly painful, your optics,” “Are fine! I swear, it’s just the visor, I think. I can see.” He tries sidestepping the medic, when sends him colliding with his commanding officer. Today was just turning into the perfect mess.

Ironhide looked ready to yell when Sunstreaker turned to him, before going pale, or cold, Sunny wasn’t entirely sure which to describe it as for a mech, “Sweet primus, how are you still standing?” Sunstreaker winces, “Is it really that bad?” Ironhide gawked at him as someone nearby was sobbing.

”That bad? Kid, your visor is shattered and you’ve got a graze that took out part of your finial.” The sobbing got louder, “Oh Blue, he’s alive! Calm down, for sparks sake.” Ironhide sighs slowly, staring, “Does it hurt?” Sunstreaker could only offer a shrug and the truth, “I don’t feel a thing, but I was designed that way.” Flatline made a strangled noise and Ironhide looked ready to either pass out or murder mankind, he wasn’t sure which at the moment, “Come on kid, sit down, let Flatline at least, at least cover it.” Nodding a bit, Sunstreaker slowly sits.

Flatline filled most of his visual feed in the next second, “I don’t have the parts to replace this,” “I don’t think you could if you wanted to. A lot of your stud won’t integrate with our systems.” Flatline looked to Ironhide, who could only nod, then Flatline swore and started to put god knows what across his suit's visor.

It went quiet for a bit after that, Ironhide disappearing out of Sunny’s field of view and Sunstreaker couldn’t move without being growled at. Intimidating indeed.

It was only once the shattered visor was mostly covered and Sunstreaker had adjusted his cameras did Ironhide reappear, with Bluestreak to his left looking horribly distraught. Sunny smiled and realized that Blue wouldn’t see it before sending him a ping, which opened far faster than would be humanly possible. He still offered a smile, but it didn’t seem to improve Blue’s mood.

Ironhide cleared his throat a bit, “Sunstreaker, I gave an order to Bluestreak here to fire on the Quintesson when he had a clear shot.” He pauses and looks at Blue then back at Sunny.

It honestly looked Sunny way too long to put two and two together, he paused before staring with a slightly slack jaw, “Wait, Blue shot me? In the face?” Bluestreak made a pained noise, “To be fair, he was shooting the tentacle that was trying to wrap itself around your face that you were ignoring. The second shot just hit your face since the first one severed the thing.” Nodding slowly, Sunstreaker goes to rub his face in thought and three mechs were quick to grab his arm.

”Don’t touch it! It’s only a cover till you can get it repaired.” Flatline was glaring now, so Sunstreaker slowly lowered his hands. Ironhide sighed deeply, “This could have been a lot worse, if we were using the weapons from the war.” Nodding for a moment, Sunny looked to Ironhide, “You’re not using the weapons from the war?” “Primus no, those things were designed to kill us. To go through cyber-mater. We only use the new stuff now.” He nods a bit, clearly worried but unwilling to show it.

Bluestreak’s hand lightly covered his mouth, “It’s… It’s only supposed to-to hurt organics.” His voice wavered and rose, but Ironhide’s hand came down, “See? It’s nothing personal, kid. We all get shot by an ally at some point, though it’s usually Mirage as the high caste bastard can turn himself invisible.” Bluestreak looked at Sunstreaker, clearly still distraught and horrified, but Sunny nodded a bit and moves over, taking his hand, “I’m not hurt, I swear.” Ironhide and Flatline shared a look.

With a deep sigh, Ironhide rests a hand on Sunstreaker’s shoulder, “I think it’s fair to say you're off punishment Civi, just, get some rest while we try to recover anything from camp. Try to recall Skyfire and the shuttle to get the pit out of here.” He nodded a bit before going off, barking orders again.

Sunstreaker stared after them, “That Quintesson comms station was at camp.” Bluestreak took his hand and held it tightly, “That doesn’t matter.” Looking at Blue, Sunny shakes his head lightly, “I’m not hurt Blue, it just busted up a camera or two.” But the pain on Bluestreak’s face wouldn’t be going away any time soon, “But you look hurt and I caused it.” Sunstreaker sighed, leaning his head against Bluestreak’s shoulder.

Even though they were in the tree line, the waves were still audible, “I’m human Blue, whether I was hurt or just my suit, we both know this is what I was made to do.” Bluestreak’s grip held tighter, “I hate that you pilots feel the need to live and die for this.” Sunstreaker smiled sadly, “What else would there be to live for? When your world would die if you didn’t at least try.” He sighed slowly, running diagnostics.

They sat there, silently, Bluestreak looking both at the suit and the human in the corner of his visual feed, unable to stop thinking about the fact that his gun was re-designed specifically to kill organics.

———

A/N

So I basically wrote this all tonight, cause I lost track of time and forgot it was Monday after posting an earlier chapter on Ao3. I was busy today anyways.

It’s not likely that I’ll have part 27 for you guys on Friday, just cause I have to write some personal statement for applications this week.

Also also, earlier when I mentioned it being action and fluff? Yeah, I have written up till Sunny was just starting the fight with the Quint, I did not anticipate the later part of this chapter.

Sunny’s visor for his suit has a small chunk taken out of it, right near where his right eye would be, and it had spider webbed the glass. It’s not a pretty picture, plus the tip of his finial thing had been sheered down. I promise if you look at @cosmique-oddity ‘s art for Arcturus you’ll know what I mean.

Uh, anyways. I hope you enjoy this late chapter. P. 25 didn’t do great last week so we’ll see?

Also I have no idea who Flatline is. I know he is a decepticon medic from IDW and I needed a medic that could be on Archa three with them.

TAGS!

@lunarlei68 @whirlywhirlygig @loop-hole-319 @pixillandjester @alek-the-witch @not-a-moose-in-disguise @goddessofwind8water @neurologicalglitch @dersereblogger @pixel-transformers @mrcrayonofdoom @wireplaces @twilightfreefaller @original-blog-name-2 @devilangel657 @robbin-u @childofprimus @miniartistme @starwold @tea-enthusiasm @valeexpris606 @celticdoggo @bird599 @agentsquirrelsgotrobots @aquaioart @dimencreasatlas @thatwandercat @artdagz @seisha974 @starscreamloverfr @halenhusky309 @leethepiper @cat-cassette @blue-wrens @sirassban @cosmique-oddity @garbageenthusiast @osqindaxend @xervias @azulabutterfly @fryseem @spring-mc @echo-circuit @aghostsnail @wooblewooble @ask-glory-haddock-and-others @nonsscarpheap @magichats @iminahole247 @omgflyingderpywhale @pour1tin @thetrexartist @naaaafam @elegantmantaray @emichusai @waterlilykitty @diabolichare

And once again thank you to @keferon for this amazing AU

#transformers #i will never get over this #tf mecha universe #tf mecha au #the arcturus missions #i just 😭😭😭😭#The updates to this make me insane #best part of my day #every update makes me #aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa #sunstreaker #jazz #mech pilot jazz au #hound #maccadam #mecha pilot jazz au

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