sirassban

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guy

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I Hate him I hate him I hate him

“M’lady”

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Starscream as one of those tiny airplanes

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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

[sirassban]

Batwave

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Hey cheese!

[sirassban]

I created some horrors (If they all had normal- sized chins)

THIS IS PART 1

[sirassban]

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

[sirassban]

Saw this picture on Pinterest and thought of him(:❤️

[sirassban]

Me every time we get a new chapter:

The Arcturus Missions

Part Twenty Three - Worrying the Medic

Part Twenty Two

———

Most mech suits were initially designed to have remote pilots, to not have a human being in the cockpit of the suit, hoping effectively for a drone. Clearly, that was not successful and the first countries to get functioning suits were ones who did not initially plan for that. Several other countries attempted that as their main strategy and in turn were delayed by the lack of progress. 

Those suits went on to help with modern design for perception and maneuverability for the use of pilots. 

Now, because of those designs most pilots have a widened visual perception, easier maneuverability, and enhanced UI. Unfortunately the new connections leave the pilots with the feeling of body dysmorphia. Both from the physical connection to the suit through their implants but also the visual, audial, and mental connection.

Scientists are still currently studying the effects of this on pilots, it is not currently in consideration to reduce the enhancements back to previous renditions for safety reasons, but new options are being considered for the sake of the pilots.

It’s unknown what this would do to pilots that have the ability to retire since the new generation of suits came about. 

—

Cosmic rust was not taken lightly among Cybertronian’s. Whenever it was mentioned around Hound or Breakdown it would remind them of the diseases that would run rampant through military units, but this was a lot worse than the flu. It was spoken about in revenant tones, more akin to cancer. 

Hound’s skin crawled and his implants burned. 

Megatron was the first one up and stepping lightly away, “Alright, we know what the regulation states. Medic smells or sees rust then everyone gets checked. Knockout?” With a deep sigh, Knockout nods, “Of course, so, whose first?” Hound glances up and that was the wrong thing to do, “I see I’ve got a volunteer.” He gestures and starts to walk away.

At first, Hound stayed put before Mirage gave him a look, “He meant you Hound.” Sighing slowly, Hound pushed off the bench and started to follow the medic. Even back on Earth he hated going to the medic let alone a doctor. 

Ducking slightly at the doorway, Hound moved into the medical tent, “You’re going to have to tell me if whatever I do is uncomfortable or dangerous Hound, I can’t read a person's visor, I’ve never been able to.” Nodding slightly, Hound moves and sits on one of the medical slabs, “Neither can I, Doc.” Knockout pauses and cracks a bit of a smile, “No one calls me doc anymore, they haven’t since the end of the war.” Hound tried not to smile, nodding a bit.

”And what do you mean, neither can you? Every single one of your kind, at least that I’ve met, has visors.” Hound chuckles lightly and shifts a bit, “Call it a feeling, we can tell in other ways how someone is feeling.” Nodding a bit, Knockout turns back around with a swab and dish, “Like an EM field, except you don’t have those either.” “Can’t say we do.” Knockout chuckles as he started to swab plating, frowning a bit after trying to get a seam.

Hound tries not to kick his feet, tries to sit still but it felt like he was back in the physical he had to take before the mission.

—

The room was white, not grey or blue but white except for the almost checkered floor. It looked like any normal doctors office but how could you call a doctors office one building over from where giant mech suits were stored normal. 

Hound shifted on the examination table, wearing his working uniform, after all he was just on loan to MECHA from the army, as much as he might like it here. 

Boots were shuffling through the hall and there were plenty of people talking outside, slowly he leaned back against the wall and closed his eyes for a moment. What he wouldn’t give to be back in his suit, it had been almost a month since it went in for the upgrades it would need for the Arcturus mission and pilot 2162 was covering his region. She was a fantastic pilot and doing her job well but he’d be more comfortable handling his region.

Then again, space wasn’t exactly his region and that’s where he’d be in a few months time. Sighing, he opened his eyes when there was a knock, “Come in.” The door opened and an older man came in, clipboard in hand and white coat swaying, “Oh thank god.” Hound sighed a bit and Ratchet looked up, rolling his eyes, “Third time I heard that today. Has Shockwave really gotten so bad you’d rather have my medical advice over his?” “Yes.” Ratchet rolled his eyes again.

Although Ratchet was a bio-engineer by trade, he did get his nursing degree before that, which was better than Shockwave and his medical school to any pilot. 

“Alright, well, your chart looks good and your vitals are typical.” It was hard to define anything about a pilot with the quantifiable normal anymore, “Everything else is consistent, I understand they have taken you off your SSRI and ambien?” Nodding a bit, Hound shifts, “Yes sir.” Ratchet hummed and tapped his pen against the clipboard.

Shifting a bit, Hound clears his throat, “I’m feeling fine and sleeping well, my side effects have been limited.” Ratchet hummed again before pulling up the stool and sitting down, grabbing Hound’s wrist for a pulse reading, “Yet, your resting rate is high.” Hound couldn’t help but chuckle, “Yes sir.” Barely sparing him a scowl, Ratchet grabbed the ear and throat light.

They went through the motions, Hound responding to statements or answering questions and Ratchet kept referring back to the clipboard, scowling deeply before rolling backwards to look at Hound square on, “Why do you want to go to space Hound? Hmm?” Hound chuckled slightly, “What do you mean?” With a glare, Hound held his hands up.

Sighing, Hound shifts and fixes his shirt sleeve, “I want to end this damn war Ratchet, I mean look at me. Look at all the pilots, what we go through, what we put our bodies through. The sooner it's over the sooner we stop getting put through the blender.” Ratchet’s gaze softened, “Hound,” “I’m serious Ratchet, this shit isn’t removable and we’re pilots till we die or move up, most of us don’t want to move up.” Ratchet gave him a look and Hound sighed.

“Don’t you think I of all people know that the technology isn’t removable?” Nodding, Hound runs a hand through his hair, “Ratchet, the list of pilots grows every day and there is a longer list of dead ones than active ones.” They hardly could look at each other, but Ratchet sighs, “I don’t want to see your name on the longer list Hound.” Cracking a smile, Hound shrugs a bit, “Come on Ratchet, don’t you have some faith in me?” “In you, yes. In those lambo twins? Never.” Hound laughed.

The room shifted a bit, turning from bright to nearly dull, ”Now, can you shift your weight to the other side for me?” Shifting on the table, Hound sighs a bit, “Sure Ratchet.” Everything was coming back into focus now, no longer was the same doctor's office on Earth but an oversized medical tent. 

“My name isn’t Ratchet,” “What?” Hound glances up and nearly startles at the sight of Knockout. Glancing around he cut the microphone to swear before turning it back on and clearing his throat, “Sorry, Knockout. Uh, Ratchet was my medic back on Earth. Has been since I became a pilot.” He nodded a bit awkwardly.

Humming, Knockout lifts up his tablet, “I’ll mark him down as your primary care then Even if he’s thirty lightyears from Cybertron.” Hound chuckled weakly and adjusted in his seat, shifting on the slab just enough, Knockout looks up, “Alright, base plating shows nothing, mind if I check the under plating?” It took a moment before Hound tilted his head slightly, “I’m sorry?” Knockout smiled, his smile even when kind was wicked looking.

He turned the tablet towards Hound, “Your under-plating, from Jazz’s schematic.” TO be fair, it almost looked similar to the blueprints for the suits back on Earth, but missing the cockpit entirely, “Do you mind if I take a look?” Shaking his head a bit, Hound shifted on the seat again, “Uh, no. Go ahead.” He cleared his throat as Knockout went around to the other side of him.

It was harder to not move when Knockout was behind him and prodding him, while pulling at his— at his suits plating. 

“Alright, I’m going to be removing pieces to scan them, is that alright?” Hound shifted a bit, “From back there, yes, you won’t be near anything terribly vital.” Knockout hummed and gently started to pull the plating away with precision only a medic or engineer could have. Hound was still sitting perfectly still, leaned back against the piloting seat.

All of that had been disorientating, just another symptom, another side effect that he now had to deal with. Rolling his shoulder a bit, he sighs before getting the alert to the missing piece of plating, “You got it doc?” Knockout hummed again and activated his scanner.

It was quiet for a minute.

“What in the name of Primus is this?” Hound tried to shift to look but Knockout had moved away from the direct cameras and was holding his plating, gawking at it, “What?” Knockout came around and showed him a piece of his plating, which was stamped with ‘Property of the United States Government’, “I have a translator for written language, why does this proclaim the plating property of your government?” Hound stared at it, the stencil familiar and sprayed on most military machinery.

It was hard to explain why it was sprayed on the inside of his plating, “Uh,” Knockout nodded before storming out of the medical tent, shouting, “Lord Megatron!” And Hound stayed put. 

He was still wracking his brain when both mechs came back in, Megatron was holding the piece of plating and had pretty well crushed it, taking a breath Megatron’s hands were shaking, “Why is this piece of plating attached to you?” Hound slowly sighed and nodded a bit, “It was a repair.” His voice was a little quiet, Megatron’s fist hit the wall, “Don’t you dare lie!” Hound jumped, he couldn’t help it. 

They stayed in silence for a moment, Hound stared at the pair before deflating slightly, “It was a repair, but it’s part of being a pilot. The numbers across our chests, the paint, all of it is for identifying the pilot in the armor.” Megatron nodded slowly, “Armor?” “It’s not removable, not after the testing, but because I was a military pilot it is technically owned by the US government. Same as any materials I needed in the army.” Hound was recording the conversation and sending it to Jazz, it wasn’t the best of stories but he was no writer or actor. 

Megatron moved over slowly, “So, these people own the plating you wear, put you through apparently incredibly painful testing, launched you into space without a way home, and expected you to die for data. Is that all correct?” Knockout leaned in, “They also reek of iron oxide, for a reason I have yet to find.” Hound’s implants itched, “That would be some of our lines, I’ll attend to the repair myself but it’s likely I have a small leak to my internal system.” Megatron threw his hands up before throwing the chunk of Hound’s plating across the room.

Wincing slightly, Hound sighed as Megatron turned back towards him, grasping his shoulders, “This was the other reason I wanted you in this unit, you don’t see your life beyond your so-called purpose and that is infuriating.” Sighing, Megatron pulled away before starting outside, “Mirage, get in here now!” For a second, Hound thought he heard a cube crack.

A second later the room went from being a medical tent to a get together just about, now Megatron, Knockout, and Mirage had joined Hound inside the tent. Sighing, Hound stood and rested his hands on his hips slightly, “What is this, an intervention?” Glancing at each other, Hound nodded slightly before starting out of the tent, “Now that the mystery of the rust is solved I’m going to get my internals to start patching the leak and get some sleep.” And he somehow made it out of there without being grabbed.

They barely had to spare a glance at each other, “Mirage, I want you to keep an eye on Hound.” Megatron’s voice was still rough with anger. Nodding, Mirage watched the mech go back over to where he’d been sitting and slump, turning off his visor, likely for fuel consumption while the internal repairs were happening, “Is he hurt?” He glances over at the two cons, frowning.

Both spare each other a look before Megatron shakes his head and Knockout shrugs, “We don’t know.” Mirage sighs slowly, “And how can he smell like rust if it’s not rust?” Knockout nods a bit and leans against the examination slab, “If what he says is true, it could simply be a mild corrosion of wires that have iron infused in them.” He shrugs weakly.

Mirage stared at where Hound was, before starting back out the medical tent and moving to sit next to the mech. His cube shattered on the ground but he really wasn’t hungry anymore.

Everyone was silent and staring, mostly worried about rust but also worried for Hound, you didn’t get visited by multiple people in medical at Knockout’s request unless you were dying. They were all sparing each other's looks, especially once Megatron and Knockout returned.

Knockout gave one glance around and swore, “It’s all clear you idiots, do you honestly think I’d let him back out here if it wasn’t?” Only a few people relaxed.

—

Bluestreak was sitting alone, the whole shuttle was lined with seats but he was sitting by himself. Maybe it was the big gun that he had leaning against his knee or the fact that most mecha wouldn’t normally be awake at this ungodly hour, while he seemed to have endless energy, but regardless Sunstreaker took the seat to his right with ease. 

Glancing up, Bluestreak’s face lit up with a smile, “Hey.” Sunstreaker smiled a bit and sat back, adjusting in his seat, “Hey yourself.” Then he sent a private comm invite, which Bluestreak joined near instantly, “I’m gonna unplug from the suit, so it’s going to look like I’m asleep but I still wanted to talk.” The visual input from inside his suit was offered to Blue, who also accepted that.

His smile was small and Blue shifted to lean back as Sunstreaker seemingly fell asleep, leaning his helm against Bluestreak’s shoulder. 

It took a second for Sunstreaker to get unplugged from his mech, removing the top part of his assistance suit and helmet before setting down near one of his internal microphones, “Can you hear me Blue?” Trying to hold back a smile, Bluestreak nodded slightly, “Yeah, I can hear you Sunny, I can see you too.” Sunstreaker smiled, “I wasn’t sure if that was going to work or not.” He brushed a hand through his curls, sighing. 

Bluestreak sat silently, waiting for Sunstreaker to get comfortable, trying to keep the smile off his face, “You disconnect cause that overuse stuff going on?” Nodding some, Sunstreaker grabs a container of food, “Yeah, Hound’s orders. It’s just to try and alleviate the symptoms.” Blue hummed and rested his hand lightly on Sunstreaker’s suit, just above the knee, “So, are you going to get some rest?” Shaking his head, Sunstreaker chuckled and opened the makeshift container.

”Nah, I’m gonna eat my lunch and talk to you. Ask about my new boss and all.” Bluestreak tried not to wince, nodding a bit, “Right, Ironhide.” He sighs slowly and Sunstreaker smiles a bit, sipping some very vibrant blue broth which was just shy of being sweet, “He that bad?” Blue bit his lip, “Uh, well, it's not really that he’s bad per say.” He sighed slowly.

Sunstreaker shifted his attention to the screen right below the camera, “But?” Bluestreak groans a bit, “I don’t think it was a coincidence that you were paired with Ironhide and Sideswipe was paired with Elita-One. Even before the last war, they were, let's say, involved with military affairs. Then during it they were Optimus’s best commanders.” Sunstreaker sighs slowly, setting down his food, “It’s because we're civilians, right?” Blue gave a barely audible answer.

Barely glancing at the camera, Sunstreaker got up to pace a bit, “Is he a hard-ass?” Bluestreak chuckled, “I’m sorry?” Sunny smiles a bit, “Is he grumpy?” “Very.” Blue continues to chuckle, rubbing his neck a bit. 

Whistling quietly, Sunstreaker shakes his head, “Damn, they were conspiring, huh?” Bluestreak shrugged a bit before clearing his throat, “Yeah, it would seem that way, but I think you got off better than Sideswipe did.” Sunstreaker glances at the screen, “Really?” Bluestreak hums, “Oh yeah, Elita is a little more rough around the edges especially to mechs over femmes. It’s not a thing but it’s about trust.” Nodding a bit, Sunstreaker hums. 

Blue shifts a bit in his seat, adjusting Sunny on his shoulder, “Sideswipe is going to be fine though, it’ll probably be good for him.” Sunny nods for a moment before shaking his head, “No, he doesn’t take to authority well. So, Ironhide the grumpy hard-ass, so, what do I need to know about him?” Blue smiles and closes his eyes, leaning back, “I don’t even know where to start.” Sunstreaker smiles softly, “Maybe from the beginning?” Blue grinned. 

“Ah well, I guess I could start with the old prime guard stories. Now, I wasn’t around for those. I wouldn’t come online for a few hundred stellar cycles at the very least.” Sunstreaker goes back to eating, smiling and nodding, sometimes it was just nice to be able to talk to someone or listen to someone without having to talk. He’d usually get that with Sideswipe but this was different and it made his smile turned from a nearly forced one to soft. 

———

A/N

So, this was not what I had planned to post today then I got busy, so it is what was done.

That does mean, on Monday, I might not be posting Part 24 but something else… we will see.

Also a bit of Lore stuff cause I posted it in a comment of the last chapter, the implants as we all know are foreign objects to the human body which our pilots bodies are at present trying to reject. So the reaction is slightly autoimmune but they are also dealing with a shock to their n system as they encounter new bacteria on all these new planets they are going to. They have some anti-biotics but nothing is perfect.

Also if you saw what was at the bottom of that comment… ☺️

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 @astridkolch @cosmique-oddity @garbageenthusiast @osqindaxend @xervias @azulabutterfly @fryseem @spring-mc @echo-circuit @aghostsnail @wooblewooble @ask-glory-haddock-and-others @nonsscarpheap @magichats @iminahole247 @omgflyingderpywhale @pour1tin @thetrexartist

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

[sirassban]

I love her

[sirassban]

The Arcturus Missions

Part Twenty Two - Outlier

Part Twenty One

———

Iron is the 26th element on the periodic table, symbol Fe for Ferrum in Latin. It is the fourth most abundant element on Earth and was primarily deposited by meteorites.

Humans have been using iron since before the Bronze Age, initial use linked all the way back to the second millennium BC. 

It also is the mineral that the human body needs the most for growth and development, the human body uses iron to make hemoglobin which is a protein in red blood cells. Hemoglobin is why human blood is the shade of red that it is and why blood is a significantly different shade upon contact with oxygen.

Iron oxide is the reaction of iron to oxygen and water, which turns the iron to a dark red nearly blown tone, also known as rust. 

Rust is incredibly dangerous to Cybertronians and humans alike. 

—

Their walk through New Kaon was quiet and informative, Hound was trying to ignore the blood and discharge sliding under the collar of his assistance suit with each step. It was unlike Iacon and unlike Earth, it was something entirely unique to Decepticon culture and clearly Megatron was proud of it, smiling a bit, Hound kept walking and listening, “Just past those buildings is where we first landed on this planet, it’s where the space bridge usually stands though deactivated and dismantled due to the war.” His hands were folded behind his back, he walked with the same ease as any man who knew this was his city.

Nodding a bit, Hound continues to look around, “So, I understand why you have fighting pits, they’re probably a lot like our military bases back home, but why have them off cybertron?” Megatron hums, nodding some and glancing towards the sky, “Other than for the obvious reason, I take it?” It took a second for Hound to chuckle weakly, “Other than your million year civil war, yes, I mean why not have one there now?” Megatron nodded slowly, bowing his head slightly.

”Cultural differences and a desire to move on from unsavory pasts.” Hound came to a hard stop, staring at him and he cleared his throat a bit, “Wow.” Megatron chuckled deeply, “Jazz had a similar reaction, then attempted to explain some history of your planet while we walked. I think it just confused us both, he said he was not a history major.” Nodding a bit, Hound moves to catch back up.

Scratching his jaw again, Hound sighs, “Neither am I, so I don’t think I’ll even attempt that. I’d ask Breakdown on that, it’s much more up his alley.” They lapsed back into comfortable silence, walking the streets of New Kaon. Awkward companions that had similar goals. 

—

“Sir, why did you want me for your unit specifically?” They were still walking towards these ever elusive fighting pits. Megatron hummed deeply, “I figured that would be obvious Hound.” Nodding slightly, Hound picks up his pace slightly, “I don’t exactly see it that way.” With a chuckle, Megatron shakes his head, “No, I guess you wouldn’t. You and Mirage work very well together.” Nodding, Hound sighed a bit, “Ah.” With another chuckle, Megatron rested a hand on his shoulder, “That is not a bad thing Hound. Not many can work so closely with outliers and come out unscathed.” Nodding again, Hound went from nodding to slowly shaking his head.

Glancing toward the sky, Megatron bit back a swear, “Sometimes I forget that it seems your people don’t communicate the same way we do.” There was something in that statement, bitter and sounding almost painful.

In a breath, Megatron shrugged lightly, “We try to spread those with outlier abilities through different units, but maintain the bonds they make with more typical mecha. It’s not… easy to get along with mecha who have outliers. They can be abrasive and crass. Overwhelming both in EM and in personality.” Hound nodded a bit, really wishing for a pen and paper in that moment as they kept walking though now shoulder to shoulder. 

“Um, sir, forgive me but I still don’t quite understand and believe me it’s not making me feel like the brightest bulb in the box for having to ask this but what exactly are outlier abilities?” Megatron chuckled deeply but glanced towards Hound before frowning, “When i said that your kind don’t seem to communicate, I did not mean that literally. Has Jazz not told you?” Shaking his head a bit, Hound sighs, “It can be hard for him and I to have a moment to discuss things not related to the war or more everyday occurrences of, forgive me, your kind.” Nodding, Megatron fidgeted lightly with his digits, “I see.” Clearing his throat a bit. 

Nodding some, Megatron started to walk at a significantly slower pace than their already reduced one, “Outlier abilities are generally unexplained, they aren’t particularly connected to a mech’s altmode or anything else it seems. Back before the last war, they had to remain hidden or hide their capabilities.” Taking a breath, Hound just above a whisper, “Because Functionalism.” Megatron bowed his head. 

These were not topics that were usually brought up, it was suggested by Jazz to steer clear of them, but sometimes that just simply couldn’t be avoided. 

“They were persecuted and often hunted back then, now they are seen as the treasures that they are. In all honesty, it is one of the many reasons why Starscream remains my second in command, because of his trine’s capabilities.” Hound chuckled a bit and Megatron shook his head, “I wish I were joking Hound, but they were valuable assets. Still are, hence why they are here and not on Cybertron starting their lives,” He stops and sighs, “Now that the civil war is over that was supposed to be what everyone got.” Nodding a bit, Hound steps forward and nods encouragingly.

Taking a breath. Megatron continues on, “Now, generally, those with outlier abilities are spread throughout units. Clumping them all together doesn’t do us much good. We work with surrounding them with the right soldiers, mechs who can stand to work together without killing each other preferably.” Shaking his head, he sighs, “Hence why when you brought up the fighting you were dealing with in your own unit Optimus was willing to compromise.” Hound stared and bit back a groan, “Got it.” Finally, Megatron showed the barest bit of a smile.

Tilting his head a bit, it was almost as if Megatron was mocking Hound, “What? You thought your speech was that rousing?” Biting back a worse retort, Hound lowers his head a bit, “No, sir.” Megatron chuckled, “Regardless, we try to keep those who can get along with the outliers around and Mirage has seemed to take a liking to you. You seem to be able to find him very easily even when he is hiding.” Shaking his head a bit, Megatron laughs more than chuckles, rubbing at his jaw. 

Hound was staring and shaking his head clears his throat, “Sir, uh, I don’t entirely know what you are talking about. What do you mean, hiding?” Megatron waved a hand through the air, “Mirage is able to make himself imperceivable, generally.” He clears his throat slightly.

Hound wasn’t really sure what to say, “What do you mean, imperceivable? Like, invisible? Outliers can do that?” Nodding a bit, Megatron shrugs, “Only Mirage so far, everyone’s ability is different. As for the invisibility, to everyone except your kind it would seem. Jazz in his first few weeks with us grabbed his arm while he was invisible to our eyes, said he just felt like someone was standing near him. Then there’s you.” “Me?” Pointing lightly to his own chest, Hound shook his head a bit, “I don’t,” “You end up next to him half the time in these fire fights while we can’t see him, while the enemy can’t see him. Scared him half to death the second time it happened and you started talking.” They walked for a minute, Hound opening and closing his mouth before muttering, “I thought he wasn’t there.” Megatron laughed and bent at the waist slightly.

Glancing towards Megatron, Hound shakes his head a bit, “I didn’t realize, I swear it sir.” Megatron nodded, smiling and chuckling lightly as they slowed at the edge of something large and circular, “Yes, I believe that was what Jazz called a ghostly feeling.” Hound nodded before looking out at the circle in the ground and he stopped dead. 

The space was huge and horrific, but it was understandable with how long Cybertron had been at war. Everyone had their dirty secrets, even if they were training pits that looked like illegal fighting rings. No wonder they didn’t want any on Cybertron.

Megatron leaned against the railing, staring out at a few mechs that were training, who were also wearing what was the purple sigil of the Decepticons, now the emblem of one of the many political parties that made up Cybertron’s government. Which probably meant they were either high in the military, never stepped foot on Cybertron, or were a part of the council Hound had been avoiding. Very few mechs still wore their badges, less they were in the military or involved in politics.  

Back in the first few weeks they’d been out here, him and Jazz had talked about it. Back then when it was all so new it had seemed so interesting, how similar their planets were, then horrifying. Now, politics were the last thing he wanted to think about or focus on. 

Taking a breath, Hound leans against the railing, “Sir?” Megatron nods a bit, “I hoped this would not seem familiar to you. Your kind has gone through so much already in life, this was an aspect of it that I hoped you’d avoid. No matter how similar our pasts may seem.” Bowing his head slightly, Hound brushes a hand along the railing, “It is familiar, isn’t it?” “Yes sir.” Megatron sighs slowly, fist hitting the railing hard before shaking his head.

”I apologize for my anger Hound, I swear it is not aimed towards you.” Laughing a bit, Hound glances towards him, “Just my government?” Megatron pauses, frowning slightly, “… Yes.” Hound couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled up, even as it made his head pound, leaning a hit against the wall, he looked up at the sky.

He hadn’t really noticed that the color of the sky here was orange, every planet that they had gone to had been different and none had yet reminded him of clear Earth blue skies. 

“So, who is in there right now? I don’t recognize them.” Megatron hummed and looked down, “Ah, you wouldn’t. That is part of team Chaar, they live here in New Kaon and one of my old commanders is the head of their unit. They are highly skilled and even more unpredictable.” Nodding some, he sighs, “They have not made their way back to Cybertron since the end of the war and now are the primary unit for this sector.” Hound glances over at the two mecha circling each other, covered in weapons and both mechs huge. 

Megatron stares and sighs, bracing slightly, “You might want to grip the railing,” “Why?” Though Hound’s hands quickly grasp it just as his vision fills with dust and sound cuts out to prevent hearing loss. 

For a second, he wasn’t sure what the hell happened till Megatron came in over internal comms, “That would be Lugnut, he has a special weapon that causes overly dramatic explosions. It’s not very reliable, unfortunately. The mech he nearly just blew up would be Blitzwing, I’d suggest we move on before their argument starts.” Hound still couldn’t see anything, “Uh, sir, I can’t see where to go.” His cameras were trying to cycle the lenses to clear them.

A hand grabbed part of his plating and held on, pulling him away from the expanding cloud of dust.

—

Iacon was shining in the daylight, while Sideswipe was enjoying it the best he could, turning up the brightness on his visual feed. He’d slipped out of the apartment while everyone inside was still asleep, though technically breaking the rules he didn’t much care for any of them at the moment.

Copper and silicon tubing is what he was looking for, Breakdown had said he wanted to also start making vodka so that his concussion would be manageable. It was smart of him to only mention that once Hound left. 

Sighing deeply, he tilted his head back slightly for the light to hit more of his cameras, brighting the visual feed further, “God, I miss Earth.” His implants were draining unpleasantly down his neck and arms, his shoulders painful. All of them besides Jazz were experiencing overuse and it was becoming more unpleasant by the day. 

Rolling his shoulder, Sideswipe swore and grabbed it, falling into the nearby wall, “Fuck!” His mech collapsed as he sank into his seat, holding his shoulder. It wasn’t the first time he’d dislocated it and it wouldn’t be the last, but it was the first time since he became a pilot let alone while piloting. 

He was stuck, well and truly stuck, he couldn’t get up without the use of at least one arm and the weight of his assistance suit was tugging on his dislocated shoulder. Making all this worse with every second, it was as if the weight of the whole suit was on just his arm. A shadow fell over him and he looked up, visor dimmed from the pain.

Prowl was staring down at him, frowning lightly, “Sideswipe, why are you on the floor?” Lowering his head, Sideswipe swore again, grasping his shoulder painfully, “I dislocated my shoulder and can’t get up, and please don’t say I told you so. I know we are not supposed to leave by ourselves.” Nodding slowly, Prowl reached down and pulled Sideswipe up carefully, “That’s right, you're not, and now you see why.” Sideswipe swore again as they started to walk back towards the apartment.

He’d hardly been out for twenty minutes, just had enough energy to enjoy the sun projected through screens onto his face before his body started to reject it’s purpose. 

A hand came down on his good shoulder and he swore, looking over his shoulder at Sunstreaker, “You’re lucky it was the two of us to find you Sides, not Jazz or Hound. Come on, we can get the tubing later, we need to spend time not in the suits while we still can.” Nodding, Sideswipe hung his head, swearing every handful of steps from the pain. 

“You make it sound like I don’t have the intention of telling Jazz,” Prowl frowned at Sunstreaker, “Or assume that he doesn’t already know.” Sideswipe looked to Prowl, stared at him and sighed deeply, “Fuck…” Sunstreaker laughed and started to cough, Sideswipe closed his eyes.

Even without their cameras on, he knew Sunstreaker was coughing up blood, just as Sunny knew he was bleeding and his shoulder was dislocated. 

—

New Kaon really was like Fort Irwin, the buildings were squat and there was dust everywhere. None had gotten into his ventilation system yet but it was only a matter of time. 

It was a military city and made during the war, in a way for the war, but people actually lived in the cities they made for target practice. Adapting for their new society and life as it is. Megatron had gotten him out of the dust cloud and started back towards the edge of the city.

All the soldiers were loitering around some unpacked heaters, Mirage was helping a few seekers. He looked over and froze for a moment, biting back a grin, “Uh, get caught up in a dust storm?” Megatron shook his head, “Very funny Mirage,” he sighs, “There was an incident at the pits, do you mind assisting Hound with hosing off? The mechs perception has been limited by the dust.” Mirage nodded, “Of course.” He walks over and takes Hound’s arm.

To be fair, Hound still couldn’t see that well, one of his cameras had cleared up but the rest were still blurry and had turned off after the first ten minutes. Mirage helped Hound over towards the set up wash racks, “Come on, let's get this dust off. Jazz has the same problem, saying that the visors weren’t great with the visual input.” Mirage kept a hand on his shoulder, helping him along. 

What he didn’t see was other mecha making lewd gestures towards Mirage, same as they had done on the shuttle, everyone knew what the outlier felt for Hound other than Hound. 

“There’s a step up here, just to maintain drainage.” Hound cringes slightly, stepping up and nearly slipping on the tile, “Damn, I hate not being able to see.” “We’re fixing it, don’t worry.” Mirage shuffled him around and rested his hands on his shoulders, “Alright, don’t move.” With a few creaks, the solvent turned on. 

It was already bringing the internal temperature of his suit up, which Hound didn’t realize had started to drop already. He sighed slowly and shuffled his suit to open the worst of the seams, brown and red dust started to hit the floor. 

Mirage stood back for a second before moving over, “Do you need help?” His face was burning, “No, thank you.” Hound sighed again and started to work on his helm, trying to subtly clear off the camera, “I heard from Prowl that communal wash racks were a thing for your enforcers and military?” Biting back a smile, Mirage nodded slightly and cleared his throat, “Uh, yes. Of course a Prowl would tell you that, he’s been both. But, yes, usually though you can feel the other person's EM field.” And Mirage just about choked on his words.

Embarrassment was clearly running hot through the poor mech, though Hound still couldn’t see, let alone feel it, “Yeah, I’ve been told our EM fields are faint to non-existent.” Mirage hummed and shuffled his feet a bit.

“So, I’ve been told you wash primarily with water.” Hound had the helm of his suit shoved under the spray of solvent now, rubbing at his visor and activating the cycling for the cameras, keeping his visual feed to a minimum, “Uh, yes. Solvent in too high of an amount can leave burns.” Now that he was here, he honestly wanted an actual shower not just the car wash. 

Clearing his throat again, Mirage shifted, “You going to be okay then?” Hound smiled a bit and glanced over, visor finally lightening with recognition, “Oh yeah, once in a blue moon isn’t going to kill me.” Mirage winced slightly, “Can you see?” Hound brushed some of the solvent off and started to check through his visual feed, “Uh, yeah, I think so.” With a sudden jerk, Mirage had his arm and was pulling, “Come on, you need to sit near one of the heaters to dry off then.” And he was fast when he wanted them out of there, leaving the solvent running.

Hound was almost embarrassed as his suit was dripping with solvent, dragged over to where Megatron had set up a heater, Mirage frowning deeply at him before looking at Megatron, “Sir, keep an eye on him and I’ll retrieve your ration.” Before even Megatron could say anything the man was gone.

Mirage was burning up with embarrassment and everyone but Hound could see or feel it. 

Sitting down near the heater, Hound leaned back and sighed, whiplash is what he’d call that. His mech was still dripping lightly with solvent. At this moment he was thankful for the tight seals that had been installed for this hapless mission. Megatron leans forward slightly, “Are you alright Hound? Losing a sense like that is never easy.” Nodding slightly, Hound shrugs, “I could see a little bit, but the dust just was sticking to my visor, it’s not a perfect sheet of glass unfortunately.” He lightly touches the visor, taking a second to wipe some of the blood on his face.

Megatron cleared his throat, “And you are sure that you’d be incompatible with some of our replacements?” Houch chuckled slightly, “That is very kind, but unfortunately no. Most of your upgrades won’t work for us. Other than the external weapons you’ve given us, though energon is still toxic.” Megatron hummed, bowing his head slightly.

One hand rubbed over Megatron’s face briefly, staring at the glowing heater as the sun was starting to set, “Your kind are both strong and weak, I apologize if this offends, but your incompatibility with us could get you killed.” Hound smiled sadly and nodded, “I know.” They both stared at the heater.

Hound shifted a bit before sighing slowly, “Sir, do you mind if I ask you a question?” Megatron looked over and nodded slightly, “Go ahead.” Sighing slowly, Hound rubbed at the bandage on his jaw, “Why do you have Mirage on your team? The way Jazz talked about it was that he usually works with Prowl.” He hummed and nodded, “Optimus suggested it, said he would work well with the team I was assembling, which included you of course.” Hound nodded a bit, rubbing his jaw.

”Yes, about that, why exactly did you choose me? There are five of us, you could have had any one of us.” Megatron hummed and shifted on his seat, “Yet, you’re the one who is here.” Hound tilted his head to the side slightly and Megatron held back a groan, “I don’t need your spilt sparks running rampant on my battlefield, they're terribly young. Jazz has worked with Prowl for five and a half stellar cycles, plus they are seeing each other. And I will have Breakdown on this battlefield once he is healed.” Biting his lip, Hound clasped his hands briefly. 

Shaking his head again, clearing his throat was a bit uncomfortable, “Yes sir, but why specifically me. You could have sent me across this insane universe and we’d probably get the same levels of coordination and ground.” Groaning, Megatron shook his head, “That is not the point. This is not about you being a soldier, let alone one because it’s what your creator did. Because that is your function, it is not for that.” Sitting forward again, he leveled his gaze at Hound. 

“I enjoy getting to speak with you Hound, that’s honestly why I requested you for my unit, aside from Mirage. I am a speaker, I was the voice of a revolution and now my voice only carries when speaking to or with the mech I love. Being able to speak to you and be uninterrupted while having simple conversation, reminds me of a simpler time. You hold no expectations, what is that phrase you use? A breath of fresh air. Intelligent conversation with no expectations, no strings, is a very rare and valuable commodity.” It took Hound’s breath away, sitting back a bit he stared at Megatron.

In the months that they had been planet side, he hadn’t felt like he was getting close with any of them, felt rather alien among the mecha. Glancing around at the small group, away from the other pilots for the first time in months, Hound took a breath and nodded a bit, “Thank you sir, I am glad I can be that breath of fresh air.” Mirage smiled over at him as he walked back over with two cubes, handing one to Megatron, though a light blush still covered his face. 

Smiling a bit, Megatron nodded his head, and Hound sat back to look up at the sky which had gone dark a little while ago, turning the orange to red then dark to nearly black other than for the scattering of stars. 

Knockout comes over with his own cube, sighing deeply, “Do we know when they will be entering the system?” Mirage shook his head a bit, sighing deeply as he sipped the warmed energon, “We’re tracking them the best we can, but that still isn’t great.” With a huff, Knockout sat down, frowning. 

With a glance up, Megatron smirked, “Are you pouting because Breakdown is still on medical rest?” Knockout scoffed, “I don’t pout.” Mirage snorted, “That’s scrap and you know it. Hound, what was wrong with Breakdown anyways?” He glances over and Hound turns his mobility assistance back on, setting down his own food and turns on his microphone.

Clearing his throat a bit of the makeshift alien noodle, he tries not to choke on the overly sticky stuff, “He has what we call a concussion, that’s uh, a head injury that can hurt some of our hardware.” He had been waiting for this question, “He’ll be tired, have a hard time with external lighting, be dizzy and have headaches for the first week or two. We all know what to check for so we’ll know when he can go back to duty.” Knockout leans forward, “How do you treat it?” Sighing, Hound rubbed at his neck, dislodging the soaking bandage and tried not to wince as it made a splat sound hitting the floor.

Nodding a bit to cover up the movement, Hound sighs, “With rest and some medications we had stored on the Odyssey. There’s no external work we can do to help this and no software that can be downloaded to repair it. It just takes time.” Humming, Knockout sat back, frowning. Mirage nodded, “Have you had a concussion before?” Chuckling, Hound nods, “Around six of them, I’m lucky to still be a pilot.” Megatron scowled.

“Is it easy for you to experience this injury?” Shrugging slightly, Hound shook his head, “As a pilot, sure, but we’ve done all we can to prevent them. It’s just something that happens.” Megatron nodded and bruded into his energon, Mirage smiled a bit sadly and rested a hand on Hound’s knee.

Mirage cleared his throat a bit, “How’s it been? Separated from your team?” Nodding a bit, Hound glanced around their small group at the edge of the city, enjoying the night and outdoors instead of being up in some tower or building before looking to Megatron briefly and back to Mirage, “It’s a breath of fresh air.” Megatron smiled a bit, shaking his head some.

Knockout was looking around, frowning, while the Hound, Megatron, and Mirage spoke. Relaxing and being able to simply talk.

“Does anyone smell that?” Knockout was frowning intensely, looking around the assembled group, “What?” Mirage glances up, still sipping his cube, “Rust.” Everyone who was eating nearby briefly choked on their food and it went eerily silent as the few people still moving started to glance over their plating. Hound gulped slightly, his neck burning with itchiness. 

———

A/N

I AM ALIVE! But in all seriousness, I have taken the LSAT and now have time to write for a little bit.

I wanted this chapter to be a bit longer since it has been like, two weeks since part 21, so enjoy over 4k words everyone.

Also sorry if the writing is a bit all over the place, it’s my first time writing in just about two weeks.

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 @astridkolch @cosmique-oddity @garbageenthusiast @osqindaxend @xervias @azulabutterfly @fryseem @spring-mc @echo-circuit @aghostsnail @wooblewooble @ask-glory-haddock-and-others @nonsscarpheap @magichats @iminahole247 @omgflyingderpywhale @pour1tin @thetrexartist

And as always, thank you to the amazing @keferon for this amazing AU and everything involved with it.

[sirassban]

Inspired by ch 2 of the blurr story line written by @keferon . (you might want to turn up the brightness on whatever you’re viewing this with)

[sirassban]

Soundwave x Miku anyone? Mikuwave Perchance?

[sirassban]

The Arcturus Missions

Part Nineteen - Radio Waves

———

Back on that September day in 1984, scientists were more concerned with making a better bomb than they were anticipating needing to drastically change direction. 

The first countries to have mech technology were, in order; Japan, the United States, the USSR, Ireland, and China. Japan had initially been working on the technology for deep sea exploration along with nuclear power plant maintenance and construction, effectively a way to use a human operator in environments non-conducive to human life. They had their first pilot ready and capable within six months of the first attack, Pilot 001, name Kantaro Tomiyama, died two years after the first attack. 

Another four months after their first launch, the United States had their first suit and pilot, no number was assigned initially, now recognized as Pilot 002, name William Witwicky, callsign Sparkplug. He died three months into the program, many of his immediate successors remain alive though no longer pilot mech suits, his son is a notable engineer along with several other family and family friends. 

People wondered initially where Ireland obtained the materials for their three launched mechs at the defense of the Isle of Man, then people began to see the similarities between the structural supports in the suits to oil rigging equipment in the North Sea. 

As the list grew larger and more countries were able to provide assistance in the battle, the compatibility technology began to advance, no longer were pilots being jury rigged into the technology but adapted into the brain of the machine. Yet side effects remain, as human biology struggles to adapt to the needs of advancing technology. Though scientists continue to try and adapt the systems to be more compatible with biology.

All modern pilots have extended lifespans thanks to the sacrifices of these pioneers of mech technology. 

—

It was still very bright in Iacon, even as it started to grow later in the day, Mirage was walking with Hound, smiling, “So, how do you find Iacon? Now that you’ve lived here for a bit.” Nodding a bit, Hound shrugged slightly, “It’s a beautiful city. Certainly bigger than any on Earth.” Of course it would be bigger, human cities were designed for significantly smaller beings but Mirage chuckled still, “It’s bigger than most on Cybertron to be fair and has been around for a very long time.” They go through the gate and back down to the road, Mirage walking with his hands folded behind his back, “But it’s home.” That brought Hound a bit of pause and he smiled some, “I almost forgot you said you were from here.” Mirage’s smile was bright, “Forged and educated, though north of here,” He gestures to some of the taller structures in the distance, “I don’t spend much time in that part of Iacon anymore, it’s lovely of course but to be out of the way from everything and work.” Hound tilted his head slightly, “Then do you live closer?” Mirage, nodding gesturing in the same direction as where he was staying, “Most of us live towards the markets, too much happens on that side of town to not have rapid responders.” Hound hummed, nodding a bit again.

The buildings blocked the sun some, much to Hound’s relief as his head still ached, his hand came up and held it for a second. Mirage was looking around absently before looking at Hound and resting a hand on his shoulder, “Hound, are you alright?” Nodding a bit, Hound sighed a bit painfully as the sun his his visual feed again, “Yes, I am alright, just trying to manage a migraine.” Frowning, Mirage glances around before taking his arm and starting to lead them, “Come on, I know a place where you can have a moment of peace. I understand you’ve been sharing a living space with your entire unit, that would hardly be restful.” Shaking his head a bit, Hound covers Mirage’s hand with his own, “Mirage—“ Who was already shaking his head, “No, meetings like the one today are taxing enough, you don’t need to return to a hab full of chaos with a migraine.” He nearly stumbled when Mirage dragged him around a corner and started down some stairs.

”Mirage, where are we going?” With a shake of his head, Mirage kept hold of Hound’s arm, “Someplace quiet at the very least.” He finally slowed down outside of a shorter building, Mirage sighed and started inside, “It’s still early enough in the cycle that most people won’t come in till later,” the inside was pleasantly dark, with only quiet music coming from the speakers nearby. There were booths and tables, but also some low slung chairs, the bar was in the center of the building with soft lightly and a mech behind it cleaning some cubes, “Afternoon Mirage,” Mirage raises a hand briefly before leading Hound to one of the areas with the low chairs, “Sit down and relax, I’m going to get something to eat and join you. Just, try to ease your migraine.” He smiled softly before heading back towards the bar.

Hound sighed and turned off his visual feed, turning down the lights in his suit for a moment, then disabling the assistance suit for a moment to grab his water pouch and some pain killers. They were starting to run low on the ones from Earth, he frowned at the ones in his hand for a moment. How could the smallest things make you homesick, shaking his head a bit he takes the pills quickly before turning the mobility back on and his visual feed on low just as Mirage came back over with a cube. 

After taking the other chair, Mirage sips from his cube, “Are migraines typical for you?” Shrugging a bit, Hound adjusts the setting on his visor, “It’s common to get them after the compatibility programming, it’s just a side-effect.” He sighs in a bit of relief once the worst of the glare was tuned out of his visual feed, “It was one of the many warnings we got during the testing process.” Mirage was frowning, leaning forward a bit, “The more I hear about this compatibility testing, the more concerned I grow.” Hound chuckled lightly, rubbing at his head, “It was necessary to be able to handle the upgrades, back in the beginning, they were just,” he pauses and sighs deeply, “They were just upgrading people, without the testing, and that got a lot of good people killed before they could become pilots.” Mirage winced, nodding slowly, “I’m sorry,” shaking his head, Hound held up a hand, “Don’t be, they didn’t know better. The technology was still so new at the time and everyone knew the risk.” Hound looked down for a moment before sitting back in the chair.

Mirage was staring and Hound shifted a bit, shaking his head a bit uncomfortably, “You know, the staring makes it feel like you’re trying to see my soul.” He chuckles a bit even as Mirage leans back slightly, Hound sighs, “I take it the word soul translated to spark, huh?” “How’d you know that?” Shrugging, Hound turned down his visor as he darkened his visual feed, “Jazz said it would.” They drifted easily into quiet togetherness, Mirage sipping from his cube as Hound turned off his visual feed and closed his eyes for a bit. 

—

To be fair, they got their inspiration from a TV show about a war, so it was only right that they do this now. Jazz was watching as Sunstreaker adjusted the hot plate, shifting the cube before sealing it again, finally sticking one of the copper tubes through, “Now we have a functioning, hopefully, gin still.” Sideswipe was grinning, scratching at his jaw lightly, Sunstreaker shakes his head, hands on hips, “This is the stupidest thing we could have done.” Jazz grins, “Which is why it’s great, come on. If this works we’ll be able to wind down when we have down time,” he moves over and leans down to watch the contents bubble in the cube, “Wow.” They all take a step back to watch with a grin. 

The door to the bedroom opened and Breakdown came out, wearing his helmet and visor, tinted as dark as it could be as he made his way to the table, “What are we all doing today?” Sideswipe grinned and leaned over to the ladder, offering the man a hand up as Breakdown climbed the steps, “Making alcohol.” Breakdown’s eyes shined, “You got the copper?” Sunstreaker looked over, “Wait, how do you know about this? Sides only told me a few days ago.” Waving it off, Breakdown goes over and looks over the still, “Who do you think told him to get the oversized cube? It will be easier to maintain than a typical copper still, that is for certain.” He was smiling, though clearly his own head still ached from the concussion. Glancing around at everyone and their suits resting across the room, Breakdown pauses, “Where’s Hound?” Jazz sighs a bit, “At a meeting with high command. We all were supposed to attend but the poor guy has a migraine.” Each pilot winced, Sunstreaker lightly brushing a hand over his own implants, Breakdown adjusted his helmet slightly, darkening his visor more.

Sideswipe lightly scratches at his implants, “Do you think it's a normal migraine or an overuse one?” Jazz sighed, “Overuse, I got them all the time when I first got out here, they started around this time for me.” Sunstreaker swore and sat down heavily on one of their makeshift chairs, “It can’t be overuse yet, right? I mean, we all disconnect at night.” With a slight shake of his head, Jazz gives a so-so hand gesture, “Hound also works more than the rest of us, as commander he has to stay up longer for more meetings and things, I just would debrief with Prowler but overuse systems are coming for us all, other than maybe Breakdown, Mr. I-have-concussion-and-get-two-weeks-off.” Breakdown snorts a bit and easily flips Jazz off, “Stuff it Jazz.” Sideswipe had the best reaction, hands going up, “Woah, watch out, the old man is angry!” They all get a laugh out of it, smiling and watching the still bubble and steam lightly, enjoying the moment of peace, trying to not think of the overuse side effects that would come for them all. 

—

When the lights came on Hound had to suppress the wince, Mirage had finished his first drink a while ago but had ordered a second in a significantly different color. They were sitting around, not really talking but being able to enjoy one another’s company without gunfire forcing them together. The music started to turn louder and Hound had to pause, frowning at the nearest speaker, “Wait, wait, has it been playing this the whole time?” Mirage frowned and leaned towards one of the speakers before pulling back and rubbing his audial as it increased in volume, “Yeah, the old mech picked up this frequency a few years ago and it brought in a load of new customers after the war. Nobody knows what it is but a bunch of mecha seem to like it.” Hound tilted his head slightly, “I know what this is.” He smiles a bit and starts to nod, “Yeah, yeah this is 102.7 out of California.” His foot tapped lightly.

”Wait, this is from Earth?” Nodding, Hound smiles, “Yeah, it’s from Earth. Yeah, this is Rick Dees, listen.” They both leaned in as a voice carried over the waves, “This is K-I-I-S F-M, Los Angeles. I’m Rick Dees and these are the hot hits.” Before a song started to pour from the speaker and Hound laughed, covering his mouth, “This is from the eighties. This is from home.” Mirage stared at him, smiling a bit, “I take it you liked this frequency?” Hound nodded and rubbed his jaw, “Yeah, I listen to it whenever I’m in Los Angeles, which is more than I would like.” Slowly, he pushes off the chair and moves closer to one of the speakers, starting at the odd connection to home, “I thought I’d be stuck listening to the twins mixtapes for the rest of my life.” Mirage gets up and moves over, resting a hand on his shoulder, “I don’t know what a mixtape is, but I am glad to see you happy.” Hound nodded some, smiling as the tones of Time After Time by Cyndi Lauper flowed. 

Mirage watched, shaking his head a bit, “I don’t know what’s being said.” It clicked for a moment and Hound turned to look at him, “Ah, well, the songs just starting and it starts with,” he clears his throat a bit, “Lying in my bed, I hear the clock tick and think of you.” He wasn’t singing it, not even close, but Mirage looked ready to melt, “A lot of her music is like this and she’s an amazing artist.” Mirage nodded and smiled some, “Uh, you listened to a lot of music?” Nodding, Hound looked to the speaker again, “Whenever I could, if I could afford the tapes or CD’s, um, compact disks.” It clearly soured Mirage’s mood, “Afford?” Hound sighed deeply, “Yes, I don’t know how many times I have to bring up the cost of living to get it through your processors. Music and entertainment were luxuries that we couldn’t always afford.” He crosses his arms and stares at the speaker, sighing a bit, “Radio was free, if you could tune in,” his hand brushed over the speaker for a moment and he whispers, “Millions of miles and it’s still so clear.” Then his fist collided with the wall and Mirage took his arm, shaking his head some, “Come on, don’t be like that. Just enjoy the music. Don’t think about the mission for a klick or two.” Sighing slowly, Hound turned and looked at Mirage, nodding. Mirage smiled and offered a hand, “Come show me what this human music is about, huh?” Hound, shaking his head slightly, takes his hand, “You’re crazy.” Mirage smiled wider, “And you’re feeling better. Besides, we agreed to talk about your home the next time we were in Iacon." He spreads his free hand wide, “Welcome to Iacon.” Hound laughed and followed Mirage to the bar, leaning against it, though his visual feed was still turned down to the bare minimum and audio sensors only tuned for Mirage and now the music, a few more hours here wouldn’t kill him. 

———

A/N

Alright, sort of a short one today but I wanted to get a part up on Christmas for everyone to read when they need to avoid their family. Late on Christmas but still.

I swear I am going to write more for the twins, Breakdown, and Jazz next chapter I just have an easier time writing for Hound, even though he is a little OOC. I promise man’s love for nature and stuff is coming.

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 @astridkolch @cosmique-oddity @garbageenthusiast @osqindaxend @xervias

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

[sirassban]

You guys have moved on from the language barrier but I haven’t 😔

The people need to see the absolute POTENTIAL this concept has, see my vision, guys. Extra shitty doodle today bc it’s late and I need to wake up early tmr :)

Mecha au by @keferon!!

[sirassban]

I Drew Mech pilot AU jazz & prowl (I love them so much it hurts) by @keferon  (this is definitely ooc but 🤷‍♀️)