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do you love me? do you, surfer girl?
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Remember Me, chapter 8
Title (chapter): Remember Me (08)
Series: Transformers, G1-based âBlueâ AU
Rating: PG-13
Notes: if/when her family get her back, Skydash is going to have a very interesting vocabulary.
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In Nemesisâ monitoring room, it had been quiet for a while. Ramjet wasnât entirely sure what that meant. He wondered for an instant if the brat had actually died? Or vanished somehow â wouldnât be the first sparkling with the annoying ability to walk through walls, after all.
Not sure heâd like what heâd find, it took a few moments to summon the desire to lift the databoard.
In the bottom of the bucket, Skydash was cuddled down into a ball, hugging her knees. Still alive, fortunately.
Ramjet waited an astro-second or two for a response before prompting: âAre you gonna behave if I let you out?â
Threads of frightened static emerged from the depths of the pail, but she didnât respond otherwise.
The big jet vented a terse sigh, optics tightening, and glared down at her. âFine. Stay in there then.â
Alarmed, the sparkling suddenly came to life â scrambling out and tipping the container over in her haste. âNo bucket-!â
âDoes this mean youâre gonna be good, now?â Ramjet hefted the pail in one hand, meaningfully.
âNo bucket,â Skydash blurted out, scuttling backwards until her back impacted the side of the terminal. âNo bucket!â
âIâm assuming thatâs a yes.â
She disappeared into a small gap at floor level, still repeating the words like a mantra. âNo bucket. No bucket.â
â...frag sake.â Ramjet covered his face with one hand and counted inwardly to ten thousand, before giving the slot a cursory examination. It was too low and awkwardly-angled for him to get much more than a hand into it, let alone grab for the runaway. Getting the sparkling back out would require a plasma cutter, unless she decided to emerge of her own volition.
Although by now sheâd picked up a new noise that seemed to make every single last armour plate vibrate against its neighbour, and he didnât want to get that much closer to it to be able to experiment.
Almost as bad as Dirge. âAm I being too complicated for you?â At least that horrendous siren-scream was still offline. âCome on, Tiny. Please. If you donât quit making all that fragging noise, Megatron will come down here and silence the pair of us, permanently.â
âNo bucket.â
âFine.â He flipped the can over and propped his thruster against it. âNo bucket. Are you gonna finally come out of there now?â
Little blue optics peeked out from the crevice into which their owner had wriggled. She gave a single questioning chirp.
Ramjet wondered briefly if he should attempt a grab, or if thatâd just trigger more noise. Instead, carefully, slowly, trying not to spook her, he put out a hand.
Skydash inched closer to it, and stared at it for a very long time before finally climbing into his palm. He could feel her vibrating very subtly as he lifted her back up to the top of the terminal.
When he opened his fingers, she slithered limply off his hand like a rag doll, flopped out across the top of the terminal, and just lay there, unmoving.
Ramjet watched her, and pinched the bridge of his nose. A mixture of relief (because damn did the silence feel good) and concern (what new horror was the tiny brat cooking up?) washed over him in equal measures. âYeah. That looks like a good plan.â
No new horror was forthcoming, though. Perhaps those tiny batteries were finally depleted? Her dim blue gaze slipped briefly sideways. âSorry bite.â
Ramjet shrugged. âEh, no big deal. Had lots worse than bites before.â
âDay say bite bad.â
âFigures that the master slaghead would be the one to teach his sparklings whatâs good and bad.â Ramjet snorted. âHe's probably right.â
She was silent for a few astroseconds, before adding, in a watery voice; âNo bucket.â
âSure. Whatever. No bucket.â
Peace reigned for a few breems. The sound that finally broke through the quiet was one of subtle movement â a little scuffly noise, as of someone trying not to draw attention to himself. Ramjet glanced behind to find Thrust lurking in the hallway, trying not to make it too obvious that heâd positioned himself within lunging distance of a strategic doorframe.
âSo, Dirge said you smashed a mop over his helm and kicked him out,â Thrust said, warily, by way of greeting. âIs it safe for me to come in there?â
Ramjetâs expression flattened into a tired glare. âWell that all depends on why youâre here. If itâs just to heckle and make my life difficult? Then no, probably not.â
âWell, Iâm meant to be on duty now, so I guess Iâm here to relieve you? Buuut I can just go back to the galley if youâd rather, the Triples broke out some high grade and yâknow.â Thrust jerked a thumb in a backwards point over his shoulder. âAinât gonna say no to that.â
Ramjet snorted, and stood up. âIf anyone deserves the high-grade, itâs me. No way am I gonna stay here and let you scurry off to have fun while I do all the work.â He offered Skydash his palm and she climbed uneasily onto it.
Thrust slipped into the unoccupied chair. âYouâre taking Tinybot with you?â
âYeah. Iâm gonna go stash her with her bro, assuming Hook managed to get the kid to finally stop bleeding.â Ramjet let Skydash perch on his arm; she clung to it unsettlingly tightly, turning her face away from Thrust. âWhy; you wanna look after her?â
Thrust actually leaned away, subtly. âNo-ot especially?â
âThen thereâs your answer. Good job.â He gave his wingmate a condescending pat on the helm; Thrust swung a half-sparked return fist at him but missed by several miles. âBesides, youâd only end up scaring her into running off. Thereâs plenty of derelict bits on this tin can and Iâm not keen to go hunting through all of âem.â
âThatâd make being on sparkling duty pretty easy, though.â
âFor you, maybe. Personally? I donât wanna spend the rest of my life tearing the ship apart looking for a frigginâ sparkling that you couldnât even keep one optic on.â
âYeah yeah, fine, whatever. Donât go blow a fuse, Captain Overwound.â Thrust put his hands up in surrender. âAnyone would think you were worried about it.â
Why was he being so careful with it, anyway? Ramjet shooed the niggles away before speaking; âJust taking a sensible precaution. Donât wanna think about what might happen to us if we go and break it.â
âDude, seriously â why would it matter if we did?â Thrust turned to scowl up at his wingleader. âYouâre not actually scared of that bunch of cowards back on Cybertron?â
âI⊠didnât say that?â
âMegatronâs not gonna care, âspecially if it gets the Screamer over here quicker.â Thrust blew out a loud sigh and let his arms flop down. âCanât believe you, sometimes. Weâve got the upper hand for a change and youâre assuming weâre gonna lose already.â
âHate to remind you that losing is kind of a habit, for us? Even when we do have the advantage, someone will take time out to gloat, or work on their own little scheme in the background, and oh, will you look at that, itâs all gone to slag again.â
âRight, except the usual reason it all goes to slag is sat there on Cybertron, smirking at us from a distance.â Thrustâs voice descended briefly into unintelligible mutterings. âI just wanna see the traitor get a decent punch in his ugly face, all right?â
âAnd when we screw up because youâre too busy trying to punch him, then what? You think Megatronâs gonna pat you on the head and say ânever mind, at least you tried your hardestâ? Or dâyou think heâs gonna maybe kick you into the closest smelter?â
Thrust sulkily pursed his lips and didnât reply.
âIf we have to go plead our case with those guys, I donât wanna be shot on sight for breaking Tiny.â Ramjet tried to swallow the words but they mostly blurted out anyway: âI donât know about you but Iâm not feeling like the most happy, fulfilled little Seeker right now, having seen how nice home looks right now.â
âWell Iâm sure happier than I would be playing beast of burden under Acid Tripâs command.â Thrustâs sneer chased him across the room. âWhen did you get so scared of a couple of ex-Cons, anyway?â
Ramjet paused in the doorway, and looked back to meet his wingmateâs glare. âTheyâre ex-Cons, right. Ex-Decepticons. Traitorous slaggers, granted, but we fought alongside âem long enough to know theyâre not that woolly in the struts. Do you seriously trust them not to run you through a mill a few times when they get their claws in you?â He shrugged, one-handedly. âThree fit, healthy, well-built mechs with a whole army behind them. How long do you reckon weâd last?â
Thrust made a psssh sound. âAn army of dirt-crawling non-warriors, sure, and even theyâre not scared of that blowhard slaghead. Who, by the way, hasnât had to fight anything âcept his own spreading aft in vorns. So yâknow. Whatever. Forgive me for not immediately lubricating myself in fear.â
The white jet sighed and covered his face with his hand. âYouâre worse than Dirge. Do you seriously think thatâs it? Thereâs a reason they let the Screamer keep his helm bolted to his wings, and it wasnât âcause they liked his voice when he asked nicely not to be executed.â
Thrust gave him the worldâs most condescending long-suffering look, and it was only the idea itâd get the kid squalling all over again that squashed Ramjetâs urge to punch him in the faceplates.
âWhen all you have are your wingmates, and oneâs dense as slag while the other couldnât make a decision to save his spark? The Strutless Wonder was outnumbered,â Thrust explained, sounding like a teacher with the worldâs dimmest pupil. âWhat other option did he have except squeal and beg for mercy, like he did every time with Megatron?â He directed his glare back onto the monitors. ââŠSucks to find out my wingleaderâs scared of a glitching slagmunch that even a bunch of dirtbots arenât even afraid of any more.â
âThrust.â Ramjet leaned his head against the doorframe, letting his free arm dangle. âPrimus. I just wanna be able to go home, some day. My life right now revolves around mud, and you guys, and thereâs only so much of either a mech can take without going completely barking. Right now Iâve had it about up to here with you guys, today.â He waved his hand in the air as far above his helm as he could reach. âSo if youâll excuse meâŠâ He bowed, steeply. âThereâs some high-grade with my name on it, and I think I actually deserve it.â
Thrust grunted a dismissive goodbye, and sat and stared at the monitors for all of ten astroseconds, before blowing a tired raspberry and letting his arms flop down at his sides. âThis is such a fragging waste of time.â He rocked his chair back onto its rear legs and propped his thrusters on the bank of terminals in front. âWhat are we even meant to be monitoring for these days anyway.â
He directed his attention up at the ceiling and tried counting tiles to encourage his brain to cycle into a dormant state, to take away thoughts of the high-grade his wingleader had made him miss out on. But there were only a half dozen really big tiles up there and it didnât take very long.
âYou really suck sometimes, RJ.â
The chirping alarm became the unwanted topping on Thrustâs personal slag-pile. He covered his face with both hands and tried to ignore it, for a few seconds, but it felt particularly shrill. âAgh!â He used the rim of one thruster to deliver a sour-tempered stomp to the terminalâs speakers. âWhatâs a mech gotta do to get a few fragging breemâs peace and quiet around here, anyway!â
The kick jogged the terminal out of sleep mode, and a fast-moving blip showed up on one of the screens. Thrust eyed it uninterestedly for a second or two, then frowned and rocked his chair back onto all four legs, leaning closer for a better look. âOh, hey. What are you?â
The blip didnât seem to just be passing; it drew a series of wide, flat loops through the air above the sunken Nemesis.
Thrust toggled the display to a live satellite feed for a better look.
Skimming low over the ocean like a giant black alien albatross, drawing big circles and throwing up spray from his wingtips, broadcasting an array of threatening insults on as wide a frequency range as he could access, was a former comrade.
Thrust promptly lost all desire to nap. His lips widened in a smirk.
âMighty Megatron, sir? Weâve got companyâŠâ
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Starscream looked nowhere near ready to back down, doubly infuriated by the chastisement by Skyfire, of all people, so when the communications terminal in the corner of the room chimed, it was only having Thundercracker sitting in the way that stopped him outright shooting it. He let loose a volley of inventive curses instead, stomping across the room and punching the accept call dialogue hard enough to break it in half. âWhat?â
The screen came online to reveal a single Autobot, sitting primly at his desk; Prowl. Nobody seemed willing to commit to a decision on whether the fact it was just Prowl was a good sign, or a very, very bad one.
Unfortunately, the Botâs politely inscrutable half-smile made everyone fairly confident that Prowl himself wasnât entirely sure that this conversation was going to be a good thing, either.
Starscream threw up his hands, and resumed pacing. âWhat do you want, Autobot.â
Almost anyone else would probably have stammered their way into an apology, but Prowl was far too habituated to the red Seekerâs histrionics, and didnât so much as flicker. âWould you like to explain why Skywarp just came through the spacebridge?â
âNo.â Starscream folded his arms and lifted his chin, just a little. âWas that everything? Because weâre quite busy here.â
âAllow me to rephrase, as you seem to think Iâm giving you an option. Why did Skywarp just come through the spacebridge?â
âChanging the way you ask the question doesnât change my answer.â
One brow came up. âAm I to assume heâs flying solo for some reason?â
âAssume what you like. I have far better things to be doing right now than stand here talking to the likes of you-â
âTo what end, Starscream?â Seeing the blue palm descending onto one of the buttons, Prowl hastily added; âDo I have to come and confront you in person so you canât switch me off?â
A microsecond away from ending the call, Starscream caught himself with his fingers hovering just above the broken control panel. âItâs none of your concern! We have precious little time as it is without you wasting it all for us-â
âThen explain why your wingmate has just flown back to your former base! Reassure me you arenât about to follow him!â
âJust tell him, mech. Primus!â Thundercracker snarled, feebly, from underneath his icepack. âTheyâre meant to be our allies, now. And we need all the damn help we can get.â
Starscream gestured grandly at the terminal with a swoop of one arm. âThereâs a difference between being an ally, and expecting to be privy to all our private trauma-!â
âItâs hardly private if theyâve already spotted him, is it. And Iâm pretty sure we can trust Prowl not to let the entire Autobot army get themselves involved until we invite them to be.â
A flicker of blue and white in the periphery of his vision caught Starscreamâs attention. He turned just in time to focus on Celerity as she stepped up close enough for their static fields to mesh uncomfortably together. Before he could react, the giant lifted a hand and firmly pressed a big finger to his lips; so startled by the unexpected invasion of his space, Starscream actually just complied.
âPlease,â she said, faintly. âKeep them in the loop. Just this once. Just until we have our family back.â
Starscream backed out of range, visibly puffing up, wings flaring. âWe donât need-â
âWe do need. Please. Even if itâs just for them to keep us informed. Theyâve already proved they can see whatâs going on better than we can.â Celerity drew in a long draught of cold air and folded her hands together, straining to keep her self-control squeezed between them. âIf you let our tiny ones get hurt because youâre too proud to accept Autobot helpâŠâ
They were all looking at him, now.
âFine! Fine.â Starscream jerked his arms folded across his chassis, huffily. âSo long as Prowl gets to the point sometime this Vorn.â
Prowlâs expression flattened into an unimpressed glare. âI see why Thundercracker handles most of the calls to Earth, now,â he drawled. âFine. Let me use short words. When an ex-Con arrives unannounced through the spacebridge, fails to respond to greeting hails or transmit his own, and flies directly towards the site of his former base, concerns are immediately raised. Even you should understand the rationale behind that.â
âYou donât seriously think heâs defectedâ
âItâs a reasonable assumption to make. He always was the most loyal of the three of you.â
Starscreamâs optics tightened. âItâs funny that you notice Skywarp come through, within mere breems of him slipping away from our attention, but donât notice three fully armed Coneheads making a return trip, with hostages.â
Prowl sat quietly for a while, his gaze slipping to one side to check a display screen just out of view. When he spoke again, it was with an anxious, measured quiet; âIâd not been made aware of that.â
âWell, consider it a favour. Perhaps Red should spend less time spying on us, and more time upholding your end of our agreement. Now perhaps you understand our urgency to figure out what to do?â Starscream resumed pacing.
Prowl let the professional mask slip, just a little, swallowing a sigh and resting his chin on his laced fingers. âWhat can we do to help?â
âStay out of our way. Weâve already been pushed off-balance. I donât need the added stress of wondering what a bunch of overzealous Autobots are going to leap in and do.â
âSlipstream is one of us, remember? He has plenty of friends here whoâd be willing to help you if they knew he was in danger.â
âThatâs the whole point.â Starscream ground the words out from between gritted teeth. âWarp may be renowned for his lack of brains but youâre not short on idiots either, over there. Itâs halfway to the Pit already. Itâll turn into outright war if Primeâs Merry band of Morons decide to try and leap to the rescue.â
One eyebrow crept up, ever so slightly. âWell. Iâll do my best, but I canât guarantee Iâll be able to keep our âmerry moronsâ from taking it upon themselves to defy you if they find out.â
âFine. Whatever.â Starscream flapped his hands, exasperated. âJust⊠give me a heads-up when Warp starts back. If he starts back. I donât know.â
âOf course. Weâll keep you informed if anything else meaningful happens.â
The instant the call ended, Starscream plonked down next to Pulsar on the couch, smarting, features compressed in a glare, almost bouncing her into him. The bike hastily scooted herself back into the furthest corner, leaning away but unwilling to relinquish her spot.
Starscream gave Thundercracker a loaded glance. âThat icepack looks really good, right now.â
Thundercracker found a tiny smile from somewhere. âYou can have my icepack when you prise it from my dead grey fingers.â
After much gentle cajoling from Celerity, the blue Seeker finally acquiesced and allowed himself to be led away to his room, to defragment and let the medical patch finally take.
...leaving just Starscream and Pulsar in the lounge. For almost a whole breem, they studiously ignored each other. The sour feeling of stressed electric fields saturated the entire building; even the potted maple had pulled in on itself, folding its leaves into staticky needles.
Finally â unexpectedly â Starscream broke the silence. âSorry.â
Pulsar glanced up at him. ââŠwhat?â
The bigger mech rearranged his folded arms and glared off into a corner. âI donât have a lot of people I consider friends, so it matters when they seem intent on inadvertently killing themselves. Taking it out on you was probably counterproductive.â
âUhm, apology accepted.â She felt a little lost for words and for an instant nothing would come. She rebooted her vocaliser. âFor the record, I donât particularly like Skywarpâs idea.â
He snorted a curt laugh. âThat wasnât difficult to work out for myself. You didnât even try to call it a plan, this time.â He finally glanced down at her. A little of the overt sneer had gone from his expression. âWhen we eventually get him back, you can punch him first,â he offered.
âThatâs⊠rather generous of you.â
Starscream curled his lip. âThere might not be much left worth punching if I get to him before you do.â
She smiled back, although her denta showed through a fraction and it looked somewhat like a snarl. âYouâre assuming thereâs going to be much left when Iâm done with him. Iâm pretty persistent, for a small bot.â
âTouchĂ©,â he accepted. âLetâs just hope we get him back in one piece, then. Itâll be very unsatisfying so find someone walloped him first.â
The silence drew out between them.
âI have to kill him,â Starscream said, quietly. âMegatron. And Iâm not sure how.â He studied his fingers. âYouâd think all those millions of vorns of failure would have given me a few ideas on what might not be a total disaster.â When Pulsar didnât reply, he found a sour smile. âStill surprises me a little when Iâm seriously discussing killing someone, and even a committed pacifist Autobot doesnât argue about it.â
Pulsar looked back, unflinching. âSurprises me a little that weâre discussing the only way to stop the greatest threat our world has ever seen, and you think Iâll argue against it.â
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Megatron heard them approaching long before the origin of the infernal noise appeared in his throne room. He settled more comfortably in his seat to watch as his loyalists half-marched half-carried their new prisoner through the doorway.
The teleport was definitely making them work for their prize â fractionally smaller than the warlord remembered, with lighter armour and a sleeker build, but no less spirited, and definitely no less violent. It took four mechs to control him; everyone was equally covered in black and purple scuffs of paint already.
For almost half a breem, Megatron just studied their new prisoner, chin propped on one hand.
Skywarp glared back, optics blazing, no hint of fear in his bearing. He glowed with the faint purple nimbus of personal shields, making him difficult to keep a good grip on â almost slippery. His cuffed wrists kept his arms pinned at his sides, but he leaned forwards in the restraining hands, like a prizewinning terrier waiting to be released into a dogfight.
A few vorns of being allowed to fly solo had filled the mech with undeserved confidence. It was obviously going to be necessary to remind him why anyone with half a brain still feared him.
Of course, Megatron noted, not everyone in the room actually possessed half a brain.
Finally the old warmech straightened, drawing himself up to loom more effectively over the small assembly. âSkywarp. Good to finally see you again,â he drawled. âRumours of your untimely death were obviously somewhat exaggerated.â
Skywarp wasnât interested in pleasantries. âWhere are they?â
Megatron shrugged one shoulder. âSomewhere safe. While I decide what to do with them. What value they may provide. Although I wonât make the same mistake of allowing them to live, seeing what a noble little Autobot you allowed your offspring to turn into.â
Skywarp made a strangled little noise of fury and struggled briefly in the retraining hands, almost succeeding at jerking himself free.
Thrust kicked him in the back of one leg and took him heavily down to his knees. A little ripple of jeers followed him down.
âAnd where is your pathetic excuse for a wingleader, I wonder. Trying to sneak up on us with force, no doubt. With his, ah.â Megatron chuckled. âArmy.
Skywarp glowered up at him, darkly. âI punched him in the head and locked him in a box because I didnât trust him not to come after you, Megatron. Heâs a liability.â
The warlord actually laughed out loud at that. âI would be more inclined to say you coming here on your own was the liability. Now I only have to wait for two more idiots to come and join the party.â
âYou better hope they donât come here. I came alone to give you the opportunity to end this peacefully, Megatron.â Skywarp used his best âofficialâ voice. âYou know who we are. You know what we can do. Release my family, and it wonât go any further.â
âI remember a bunch of cowardly, poorly-organised thugs who couldnât have co-ordinated their way out of a wet paper sack if you gave them directions.â The warlord smirked. âYes, Skywarp, I know you very well. And I donât think Iâll be running from you in terror just yet.â He leaned down, just close enough for the trapped Seeker to hear the low throb of the big generators in his broad chassis. âPerhaps I need to remind you why you all followed me so loyally for all those vornsâŠâ
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We always joke about Ben Schwartz voicing blue characters
but we forget about Josh Brener voicing nerds
#tmnt#rottmnt#ben schwartz#tmnt leo#sonic#dewey duck#skidmark#Skydasher Steve#coach freebird#rutabaga rabitowitz#josh brener#tmnt donnie#dylan dalmatian#mark beaks#hailey's on it#A.C. Aychvak
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âTouhou Multi Scroll Shooting 2â Now on Steam PC
âTouhou Multi Scroll Shooting 2â Now on Steam PC | #gaming #indiegames #indiegaming #Steam #pcgaming
On Wednesday, independent game developer Skydash Studios released Touhou Multi Scroll Shooting 2 on Steam PC. Crafted as a derivative of other Touhou Project works, Touhou Multi Scroll Shooting 2 is a âtop-down, 3D bullet storm shooter featuring 3 female characters in sexy costumes.â Thereâs also no time wasted on plot or story sequences, just hot chicks dodging bullets and blasting baddies toâŠ
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Happy Birthday, Ben Schwartz! đ @rejectedjokes
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#Ben Schwartz#Ducktales#Rise of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles#Bojack Horseman#Sonic#Pinky Malinky#Eight Days of Latkes#The New VIPs#Wallykazaam!#Turbo#Dewey Duck#Leonardo#Leo#Rutabaga Rabitowitz#Sonic the Hedgehog#Coach Freebird#Lenny#Skydasher Steve#Skidmark
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Sa mga taga-Cebu! If ganahan mo pa haircut og color sa inyo hair, adto mo sa Skydash & Co Salon and quote âEmododongâ para makakuha mo og 10% discount on major services! Aron makabantay na nah si crush ninyo anang inyong nindot na buhok! http://bit.ly/2sjsU2B
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Okay so one time ladybug got into a contest with another bugger (g1, just able to eat organic stuff I guess) over who could eat a tree fastest. She lost, but if you see her digging into a pine she's stressed. She used to be a termite which explains the wood thing. She LOVES being scratched where her elytra meet her wings. It calms her down instantly. Next is the ladyjet herself skydash!
HRUVHDKJBFHKJHTJH
BEING INACTIVE FOREVER DUE TO SCHOOL THEN COMING BACK TO THIS MADE ME HAPPY. AAAA I LOVE THEM SO MUCH
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via Twitter ( Oathkeepers)
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I'm thinking about what I can do next (I want to design smt but I have no idea whatđ
) Do you guys have an idea? #design #boring #bored #skydash
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tentative designs for my nextgen babies, kitten caboodle and princess spindrift
#gildapie will get at least one more baby. MAAAAYBE skydash can have another too#kittyâs hair and tail are actually feathery too btw just like spindriftâs#these two are friends but spindrift annoys kitty a little but she is cordial with her#because she has to deal woth her constantly because spindrift is always hanging around (she has a crush on kittys best friend)#kitty also just has a sweet reputation to uphold. itâs very important to her
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Remember Me, chapter 12
Title (chapter): Remember Me (12)
Series: Transformers, G1-based âBlueâ AU
Rating: PG-13
Notes: In which we find certain teleports are still sneaky assholes, Ramjet isn't sure how he got to this point in life, and Celerity has a helluva right hook. And we STILL don't know what that "one last job" was that Megatron has for Skywarp...
(...sloooowly catching up with posting this on here...)
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Teleporting blind was hard to define to anyone who wasnât a teleport.
Worst that could happen is you crash into a wall, theyâd say. Haha, look at Skywarp, how clumsy, stuck in the furniture. What an idiot. But itâs only a wall. Why are you so upset. Just detach that bit, and carry on with your day. Itâs really not a big deal.
What no-one seemed to realise was that it was never just like bumping into a wall, and never just a minor body part. More like⊠throwing yourself through a doorway where there could be anything on the other side â like the boiling inside of a volcano. And you wouldnât know anything about it until you were already dissolving your spark in lava.
This insanity went against every instinct he possessed. He was only mostly confident that there was only air at the other end of his careful triangulations. Air was fine. His pre-materialisation field could push air out of the way. Liquids were⊠mostly fine, too. (OK, maybe except lava.) But solid objects â like walls, and floors, and bulkheads⊠â didnât move. And this visual-only carefully-calculated little hop into a corridor had a margin of error as narrow as the tissue blade heâd stolen to cut out his beacon. Teleporting into solid objects was a particularly not-fun thing, and usually explodey into the bargain. (And look what happened last time: he disappeared into a time vortex for half a lifetime.)
âŠSkywarp successfully stepped out of his jump a few microns above the deck, in the middle of the corridor, as far from any walls as he could make it. The clunk as his thrustered heel hit the deck sounded unrealistically loud, but even the idea that it could have attracted an entire garrison of triplechangers to his escape took second billing to immediately checking himself over. He did six big agitated circles on the spot before finally being satisfied that yes, he was still in the same number of pieces heâd been in before teleporting, no, he hadnât left anything behind in the cell, and no, he definitely wasnât permanently attached to a wall.
And aside from his own clumsy footsteps, all was silence. That was good.
The lack of alarms felt like it was probably a good thing, as well.
Thank frag. He covered his face with both hands and blew stale exhaust into his palms.
OK. Stage two. Find the kids and break the slag out of here.
He cautiously brought all his systems back online and allowed himself a few long cycles of cool air before giving himself a good shake and telling himself to quit being a sparkling and get on with the plan.
It took every last ounce of self control not to break into a run. When his weight and certain hollow bits of anatomy were taken into account, especially against metal deckplates, thrustered heels werenât really built with sneaking in mind, especially not quickly â they might not have noticed him escaping but theyâd definitely notice the gunshot clatter of a running seeker. Instead he was reduced to skulking down the corridors with a weirdly delicate, deliberate stride, trying hard to minimise the echoes.
There was a time he had been good at this, and he was definitely out of practice. Turning into a semi-responsible adult had a lot to answer for.
In a further complication, since his teleport, he couldnât seem to get the broken line in his helm to crystallise. It was still bleeding; trickling round under his chin and into his collar, before finding one of his many broken bits of fuselage to drip off. Only the occasional spots and smears, maybe, but even tiny droplets would light his way like glowing breadcrumbs. The quicker he could scoop up the little sparks and get out, the better.
He followed the subtle sounds of static down the corridor, homing in on the pinpoint labelled Seem that heâd stuck in his mental map. He figured it prooobably hadnât helped the kidâs frame of mind, seeing his sire captured by the same bunch of thugs as had made his own life a living Pit for the last few orns⊠but hopefully Seem would still have enough of a grip on himself that heâd be helpful and not need carrying or some slag. (And hopefully the kids were on their own, or this would be the planetâs shortest rescue mission.)
He peered around the bulkhead and finally located the source of the sounds, huddled up in the corner of his cell. At least Slipstream wasnât totally in the dark. Small blessings.
âHey. Psst?â
âS-skyw-âŠ!â Slipstream visibly jumped, and rocked forwards onto his knees, startled. âBut, but⊠I thought theyâd caught you-! I-I saw you with them-!â
âThey did.â Satisfied the youngster had no babysitters, Skywarp turned his attention to the controls. âBut you know me. I donât like to stay caught for too long.â
âHow-how did you even get out?â
Skywarp grinned. âSee, when someone puts you in cuffs, youâre a good little cop and treat them like theyâre meant to be treated. When someone puts me in cuffs, I take it as a challenge.â He gave the controls a wary poke, just in case it was booby-trapped, but the field obediently just fizzled out. âHuh. Thereâs no baffle on it? Why didnât you get out?â
Struggling to stand, Slipstream glanced away, awkwardly, and gestured with his cuffed wrists. âWhere was I going to go, exactly? We couldnât exactly walk back to shore.â
ââŠFair point. Letâs get your hands free.â Skywarp leaned briefly over the threshold and gave the cell a visual once-over. âUh. So, uh. Whereâs Dash?â
âI donât know.â Slipstream crept to the front of the cell, tucked close to the wall, looking rather like a frightened animal. âIâm sorry. Probably with Ramjet. They donât leave her with me very often, any more.â
âGreat. That does kinda frag things up. I figured youâd be together.â Skywarp vented a terse sigh, and noticed the youngster flinch ever so slightly. He made a mental note to try not to spook him any worse until they were out âCan you see her? Iâd have a look myself but it might clue them in that Iâve slipped the leash.â
Slipstreamâs gaze meandered while he looked for his cousinâs signal. ââŠI see her, but⊠Iâm not sure where exactly. Couple of decks above.â He studied the floor. âIâm sorry. I⊠kinda didnât imagine Iâd need to know, right now, or I-Iâd have asked her more about where they took her. She-sheâs always fine when they bring her back. I thought that was enough. Iâm sorry-â
âHey. Hey!â Skywarp caught his shoulders before he could get too wobbly. âItâs fine. You did what you could. Donât beat yourself up over this, all right? Youâve taken enough of a beating from those guys already, donât go and join in with doing it to yourself.â That was putting it lightly; the youngster looked like heâd taken a trip or two through the mill already. âDo I need to get the Hatchet to meet us at the Spacebridge?â
âItâs not so bad.â Slipstream shrugged and refused to meet his gaze. âMostly just dents. I think they all had a turn at it, at one point or another. Got Dash to behave if she thought theyâd punch me if she didnât. I-I can cope. For now.â
Skywarp arched a brow at the lie, but let it rest. Theyâd have plenty of time for playing pin-the-blame-on-yourself later, when they werenât still navigating this tightrope to safety.
Slipstream waited patiently while Skywarp fiddled with the dented cuffs and tried to get them to unlock. âMaybe we should try and find Ramjet.â
Skywarp gave him a wary glance. âWhat? Why?â
âHe-he usually comes and collects Dash, and she says she normally stays with him when sheâs not here. I think maybe heâs in charge of watching over her. And-â Slipstream cycled cold air and dragged up enough courage to put a little weight behind his convictions. âI think heâs maybe having second thoughts about all this? I overheard him say he wanted to come home, back to Cybertron. He might be willing to help, if we give him a bit of a break?â
Skywarp gave him a very long stare before finally saying âhm.â
âHe-heâs⊠not been so bad. Compared to Dirge.â Slipstream chased, before that limited burst of spirit could run out. âDirge absolutely wants me to know heâs going to kill me, eventually. Ramjet just⊠seems⊠bored of it all, I guess. He never looks interested. Heâs just⊠flat.â
At last, the lock on the cuffs released. It took a little force, but between them they managed to peel them open.
âYou donât think itâs a trick? Or bait?â Skywarp tossed the broken cuffs into the cell, while Slipstream quietly examined his wrists for additional damage. âI mean, if thereâs one person I know isnât gonna be affected by a good punch to the head? Itâs Ramjet.â
âAfter they caught me, heâs never really joined in when his wingmates decided I was due a slagging. I only really see him when heâs come to get Dash, or drop her back.â
Skywarp thought back to the aftermath of his own beating from Megatron, and recognised that actually? The youngsterâs words did make a lick of sense. While everyone else grandstanded and tried to remind him how intimidating and scary they were all meant to be, Ramjetâs contribution had been⊠perfunctory. He had looked tired, more than anything. âYou think heâd talk to us?â
âI donât know.â Slipstream deflated, a little. âI havenât dared broach the subject, in-in case I was wrong. Besides. Iâm an Autobot, remember? Heâd never talk to me.â
ââŠAnd Iâm a traitor. I donât know who they hate more. Chances are decent that he wouldnât talk to me, either.â Skywarp returned his attention to the corridor. Still quiet, still empty. âCome on. Letâs at least quit hanging around in your cell doorway, seeing as this is precisely where everyone seems to be visiting right now. If anyoneâs gonna accidentally spot us, itâll be here. We can figure slag out on the way.â
Slipstream followed him, obediently. âSo, um. When are the rest of the guys getting here?â
Skywarp winced. âI, ah, might have asked your ama to cover for me while I snuck out. With any luck they only figured out what I was up to when I dropped off the registry. Hopefully it means theyâre still back on Cybertron.â
âOh.â Slipstream just quietly nodded at the news, looking disappointed but not unduly surprised. Ideas like Skywarpâs tended to run in the family, after all. âOkay. So itâs just us?â
âYeah. I figured dragging the others along for the ride wasnât the right thing to do, right now.â Skywarp checked around a doorway, and blew out an annoyed sigh. âTC has one of his six-orn migraines and canât see slag, and I didnât want to immediately get murdered by bringing Screamer along. Thought I stood a better chance of surviving if it was just me. Itâs⊠kinda worked so far, I guess. Still alive, anyway.â
âHow are you going carry us when we find Dash? Do you know if you can even still fly?â
âSure. Iâve flown with dings worse than this.â Skywarp offered an ambivalent shrug. âIâve still got both wings, both thrusters, and hopefully most of my usual dumb luck. Weâll figure something out.â He glanced back at his sparkling and offered a lopsided smile, but Slipstream didnât smile back. âWeâre just gonna have to be lone heroes, all right?â
Slipstream laughed, humourlessly, and looked away. He was visibly deflating. âIâm not sure Iâm hero material.â
âHey. Quit that.â Skywarp gave him a light cuff on the arm. âThe fact your confidence has taken a beating doesnât mean youâre any less of a warrior than you were before a bunch of pitglitched âCons got their claws in you. They dumped you in a cell on your own with nothing to do except worry and it sucks.â He placed his hands firmly on the youngsterâs upper arms, and crouched, subtly, to be on his eyeline. âLook. Weâre gonna get out of here, but youâve gotta focus for me, all right? I canât do this and carry you as well.â
Slipstream stared through him for a second or two before finding his sireâs optics, and managing to focus on him. He nodded, shakily.
âI wonât lie to you. This situation sucks. Thereâs a pretty good chance neither of us are getting out of here in the condition weâre in right now, let alone as a functioning whole. But I need your attention. I need absolutely all your energy focused on us getting out.â Skywarp offered a wan smile. âYou can be a snivelly wet blanket all you like once weâre home. Frag, Iâll come be a snivelly wet blanket with you. But letâs save it until weâve got your cousin and got out.â
Slipstream had to reboot his vocaliser, and even then sounded hazy. âHow is it youâre not scared?â
âWho said I wasnât?â
Slipstream just stared at him, silently.
âNot looking scared doesnât mean not being scared. You donât survive war as long as I did without learning a few tricks, and looking like you have your slag together? Sometimes thatâs enough to convince everyone else that you genuinely do.â Skywarp managed an ugly laugh. âI mean, Pit. Iâm walking around here like I still own the place. Megatronâs already given me a slagging, Iâm only reasonably confident that he wonât kill me on sight if he catches me, and thatâs only because I know he wants Starscream to watch me die. And Iâm not even totally confident of that. If we frag this up, he might decide sending him a video works just as well.â
Slipstream leaned into the stabilising grip for a further astro second or two, before lifting his own hands to cover the larger ones on his arms. âThatâs⊠not really helping, Day.â
ââŠyeah, I know. I figure thatâs why I never got the job as staff counsellor back home.â Skywarp let out a tired whistle of exhaust and let his helm bonk gently against Slipstreamâs. âI also know, weâre gonna do this. Weâre survivors. Weâve got through everything else and weâre already halfway there. We just need one last little push, and weâll fetch Dashie, and be out.â
Slipstream nodded against him.
âRemember. Itâs not about being scared. Everyone gets scared. Even I get scared. Iâve got the surges right now.â Skywarp grinned in a way that bared his denta in a determined snarl. âItâs about knowing youâre scared, and still telling it exactly where it can go frag off, because weâre gonna do it anyway. Right?â
Slipstream finally managed to dredge up a more genuine laugh â shaky and halfway to a sob, but at least there was a bit of energy behind it. He wiped his face with one hand and made an effort to straighten his twisted antennae. âRight. Letâs go tell it where to frag off.â
 -----
He might in reality have been sat on his aft, but in his head right now, Ramjet stood on a precipice, with his own weight in concrete around his thrusters, debating whether he dared step off into the unknown. Sure, even loaded up like this, he could still fly, but he was at his limit. Add one more tiny thing â like the weight of a first-instar sparkling, perhaps â and that might be enough to turn flying into falling and the drop in front of him was a very long way down with no way back up.
And that was just the little problem. He had no idea what to do about the big problems â the two massive spanners in his turbines called Thrust and Dirge. If he tried to discuss any of this with them, he knew Dirge would go straight to Megatron. Or âaccidentallyâ let it slip to Soundwave. And it didnât take much thinking to know who Thrust would side with.
Ramjet knew the trine was in trouble.
Worse, he knew, deep down, that they were right. It was his fault.
Even during the better times, when they had an actual cause worth fighting for and things werenât all so fractured and pointless, before The Traitor defected and the âCons ended up stuck the wrong side of the spacebridge on planet Mud⊠he didnât exactly have a great track record as wingleader. Not that his wingbros were any better, but Dirge had at least found the capacity to be kinda proactive for a change.
âŠWhich meant Megatron was looking more closely at the three of them, all of a sudden, so whatever Ramjet did do, he didnât have the luxury of taking time making the decision.
And that was discounting the idea that Starscream would beat him to the punch â finally make his move, get himself caught and horribly executed, the Autobots would move to try and stop the âCons reinvading Cybertron, and their stupid meaningless war would start over again.
Assuming he did get out, Ramjet knew heâd have to be really careful about how he played this, because yeah, theyâd abducted (and traumatised) the kids and shot â maybe killed â Skywarpâs femme. Maybe he could spin it that hey, he was acting on Megatronâs orders, not everyone has the Screamerâs compulsion to defy him at every turn. Right? If he grovelled low enough perhaps he wouldnât immediately get shot. You could eventually come back from planetary exile, he figured. Couldnât come back from being dead. And if it came to the worst, Autobot prisons had to be better than this dump.
Once heâd bought himself a little favour with the enemy, a little space to think without constantly being aware of a timer counting down to a deadline he didnât actually know, he could work on figuring out what to do with his trine.
Heâd probably frag things up irreparably no matter what option he took â but sitting here just staring at screens and hoping itâd just spontaneously somehow resolve itself wasnât an option either.
Make or break time.
If he left, his bros would either follow him because they saw something worth saving, or they wouldnât, because it was over.
Was he clutching at contrails, hoping theyâd think he was worth following?
âUgh.â He covered his face with both hands and rested his elbows against the control panel.
Skydash squeaked questioningly at him, but he ignored her for now.
Frag.
Frag.
Clutching at contrails.
Ramjet made up his mind. âCome on. Letâs go for a walk.â He held out his hand.
Skydash examined the big palm for several seconds before climbing warily on. âWalk where?â
âDoes it matter? I mean if youâd rather stay in this liâl room, be my guest. But you might get kinda bored. And Mean Blue might come back.â
She chirped uneasily and clung tighter to his thumb while he lifted her to his shoulder. He let her wriggle into a convenient crevice, tiny fingers finding just enough gaps in his plating to anchor herself. It felt very strange, but he figured it wouldnât be for too long.
Hoped it wouldnât be for too long. And not for the wrong reasons.
The instant she was secure, Ramjet puffed himself up, arms stiff and hands fisted, just in case anyone was watching, and strode out into the corridor.
Just going about my business, nothing to see here.
I am a totally normal confident Decepticon warrior, where I belong, not even trying to sneak out with one of our prisoners.
âSee ama now, Arrgie?â she asked, quietly.
âMaybe. If you behave.â He felt her perk up, and hastily added; âAnd be quiet, all right? You know Dirge will say no.â And instantly grass us up to Megatron. âIf the guys spot us, thatâs it. Curtains.â
She was silent for an astro-second. âWhat curtains am?â
âCurtains are what we close on the end of the world for both of us.â At the second little questioning noise, he went on: âSomeone might even put you back in the bucket.â
Alarm flashed through her field. âNo bucket,â she whispered.
âRight? No bucket.â
She managed a whole astro-second of silence. âWhen to get Unnolseem?â
Frag. âUh. Iâm⊠gonna⊠have to come back for him,â Ramjet lied. âThe two of you together will be too heavy.â
If she sensed the lie, she didnât call him out on it, and settled again, satisfied for now.
Then they rounded a corner and ran smack into Skywarp.
âFrag!â Ramjet leaped back and immediately went into a defensive half-crouch, fisting one hand in front of his chest, ready to deliver a punch if needed. âHow did you get out?!â
âBy being cleverer than you bunch of pitglitches, how do you think?â Skywarp had already put himself between Ramjet and Slipstream, using his wings as a shield, equally ready to fight. âHave you never upgraded the brig since we jumped ship?â
âUnnolseem!â Skydash ruined the tension. âFind ama!â she squeaked, excitedly flailing her arms. She looked like she was on the cusp of toppling clean off. âArrgie say!â
Ramjet hastily grabbed her before she could fall off â and more importantly, before anyone else could snatch her. It unfortunately ruined the whole fearsome Conehead look that he was trying to carry off.
Skywarp gave him a very long, curious stare. âAre you defecting?â
âAnd fling myself on the tender mercy of you guys? Donât be ridiculous.â
âYou havenât shot us yet.â
âOf course not. I donât want you falling apart in the hallway, itâd ruin Megatronâs plans. Iâm calling for backup right now.â
âReally.â Skywarp folded his arms, unimpressed. âWe all heard what Dashie just said about finding her bearer, and Seem thinks you want to come back to Cybertron. If you are quitting-â
Ramjetâs expression darkened. âI do want to come home; so what? It sucks that weâve been stuck here all these vorns, slowly rusting and going decrepit, while you guys sit around enjoying the good life. It doesnât mean Iâm defecting. It means, Iâm gonna wait until Megatron finally puts his plans into action, then swoop to victory the instant youâre out of the way.â
Skywarp arched an eyebrow, and they all just stared at each other for several seconds, the words hanging unspoken in the air. Which is why youâre sneaking out with half of Megatronâs plan.
Ramjet sighed. âOkay. Fine. Just for an astro-second, say I was. Say I didn't want to wait for Megatron because I know it'll instantly go to slag and weâll have a derelict planet again. Would you give me a chance, or just shoot me when my back was turned?â
âYou jumping ship now isnât going to stop Megatronâs grand plan-â
âMaybe not? Who cares. At least heâll have one fewer pairs of hands to help wreck the joint.â Ramjet closed his mouth with a little snap, and glared. ââŠAnd you are not tricking me into saying anything else. Not until I get some assurances of safety from you.â
Skywarp put his hands up, defensively. âOkayokay. You have my word that I wonât shoot you â yet, anyway â but Iâm still just the grunt of my trine. Itâs my wingbros youâre gonna have to convince.â He held one hand out. âHand Dash to me, and Seem can get you out.â
âSo you can all immediately leave me behind?â Ramjet tightened his grip, subtly. âNo deal, traitor. Sheâs my guarantee that you at least listen to me.â
âI hate to break it to you, RJ, but last time I checked you couldnât teleport.â
âSo Iâll take the lift? Like I was about to do, before you two fragheads showed up. How do you think I normally get off this disintegrating tin can?â
âAnd you were planning to not get caught⊠how?â
âBy⊠living here? And not being suspicious because Iâm not sneaking around where Iâm not meant to be? If Tiny keeps quiet, Iâll just leave the same way I normally do, using the docking gantry.â Ramjet lowered his voice to a hiss. âWhich is looking less and less likely, by the way, the longer I stand here chatting with you two idiots. Just get yourselves out, and Iâll meet you up there.â
âOr youâll run straight to Megatron and let him know weâre making a jailbreak. I think not.â
âThe frag would I do that when weâve already established Iâm defying orders myself?!â
Skywarp rubbed the back of his helm. âFine. Weâre gonna have to work together, then. All four of us at once. If we synchronise our gates, we can just perform one big jump at once. Everyone knows where everyone else is, no-one betrays anyone, no-one gets shot.â He gave his niece a look. âYou all right with that, Bit?â
Dash nodded. Having her family around had emboldened the sparkling. âFind ama. No bucket,â she asserted.
âBucket?â Skywarp wondered.
Ramjet ignored him, just glaring tiredly at the sparkling. âDo I look anything like I have a damn bucket on my person anywhere?â
She just stared up at him.
âAll right, all right, I get it. No bucket.â
âYou good for fuel?â Skywarp gave Ramjet a loaded glance. ââCause when we leave here, we ainât stopping for anyone until we get through the spacebridge.â
Ramjet shrugged, ambivalently. âHow are you for fuel?â he returned, sidestepping the question. âWe havenât exactly fed you while youâve been here.â
âI havenât leaked it all on the floor yet.â Skywarp dragged up a cynical smile. âThis plastic refit you lot have been having so much fun sucking sump about does have a few perks. I can go lightyears further than you bunch of lead-forged bulk carriers-â
The sudden shrill pulsatile scream of Nemesisâs general alarm made all four jump. Scared, Skydash jammed her hands up over her audios and joined in a microsecond later.
Skywarp rankled at the accusatory looks. âOkay, fine! Weâve been chatting in the corridors for too long and I guess someone finally looked at the monitors. That or someone spotted Iâm still dripping and is following my trail. Seem? Better get our gates synced.â
Slipstream nodded, gulping down cold air. âIâve not done this in a long time,â he stammered. âGive-give me a second--â
The rattle of running footsteps was obvious even over the din of alarms.
Skywarp glanced down the corridor in the direction they were coming from. âWe might not have a second, âcause that sounds like company,â he snapped, turning to face the approaching enemy. âIâll try buy us some time. Just donât stop.â
Thrust skidded around the corner without leaving himself enough room to stop, and crashed side-on into the wall. In the instant it took to rebalance his gyroscopes, Skywarp already sprinting towards him, in an irregular teleported zigzag across the corridor.
âOh, frag!â Thrust scrambled to lock back onto his target, but Skywarpâs quick hops ruined his tracking, and by the time he thought to rely on his vision, his assailant was already within striking distance.
The teleport threw a punch and connected his fist with Thrustâs unprotected face.
âHowâs that plastic feel for you?!â
Thrust lost his balance and went crashing down on his aft, swearing the whole way.
ââŠTraitor!â Apparently aiming for a pincer movement to box the escapees in, Dirge had appeared from the opposite direction⊠but was so shocked to be seeing Ramjet together with Skywarp and the kids, he had no idea how to handle it.
Slipstream seized the chance â Dirge was within striking distance, hadnât yet brought his cannons up, and the younger mech was still running hot with alarm.
He launched himself at the blue jet, arms wide and head down, and ploughed into his midsection. Smaller he might have been, but the youngster was heavy and sturdily built, and as tackles went it was pretty solid. One of Dirgeâs thrusters skidded out from underneath him and they went sprawling.
Slipstream used both hands against the jetâs face to push himself up and away, out of reach. Dirge swore and made an unsuccessful grab for one arm, unable to recover from the shove quickly enough to catch him.
âSeem! Finalise the sync-!â Skywarp bellowed, urgently.
Thrust was already up in a crouch, pushing off in a lunge.
Slipstream snatched out a hand and secured his grip on Ramjet. âDone-!â
Thrust made a grab-âŠ
-âŠbut his fingers closed on empty air.
Then momentum carried him wildly over his centre of gravity and he collapsed onto Dirge.
It really wasnât their day.
----- Â
Up in the monitoring room, the escape hadnât gone observed.
Megatron stood squarely in front of the screen, arms folded. A motley assortment of other mechs had clustered around the margins of the room behind him, wanting to see but not particularly keen to be within reach. Just in case.
Astrotrain stood at the back of the crowd, at a respectful, harder-to-slag distance. âFar be it for me to tell you how to do your job, mighty Megatron, but, uh. You⊠donât want us to hunt them down?â
The warlord stared at the screen for several seconds, listening to the confused murmurings of his followers, before finally speaking.
âNo. This might not be the outcome I had been hoping for, but it still works in my favour.â He turned away from the screen and everyone took a collective step back. âWhether he realises it or not, Skywarp is still working for us. With a little luck, he will carry our plan right to his own doorstep.â A small smile traced the thin lips. âHe never does learn from past mistakes, does he?â
----- Â
The flight back to land was uneventful. A blind sprint over the ocean, granted, trying to become invisible by sticking so close to the waves that seaspray often stung their fuselage⊠but no-one appeared to be following them. So they were all getting covered in salt-spots for no reason.
It left Skywarp deeply uneasy â too quiet, where was the pursuit, how far back were they, was there a trap ahead â but he kept his concerns to himself. Wasnât about to challenge the advantage, just in case Primus decided the escapees had been granted quite enough good luck, now, and dropped a Blitzwing in their way.
The irony that their âprisonerâ was the only mech that was still functionally armed was not lost on him. The last thing they needed was a triplechanger to deal with.
Ramjet had been moodily silent since leaving the Nemesis.
-might not count for much coming from me, but think this is pretty brave of you- Skywarp pinged.
Ramjet replied with an obscene image.
-mean it! not even slagging with you-
-whatever. coulda got out without the bros being any the wiser, but you had to go screw that up- Ramjet replied, sourly.
-theyâd have known eventually-
-would have figured out an excuse by then! cook it so dirge thought it was his idea. no hope now. total slagfest-
Skywarp let the matter drop, aside from a final -sorry- that he hoped was good enough to convince the conehead he was genuine.
Ramjet didnât respond.
They finally arrived at the spacebridge to find Vantage had already cued up the Deixar address, and the wormhole was glowing hot. Only two other familiar figures stood nearby â Jazz and Prowl, of course â but Skywarp could pretty much guarantee the presence of a dozen other Autobots, minimum, hiding close by in the trees.
Relieved to be back on solid ground, Slipstream took two steps before stumbling and sagging against Skywarp, as if his knees had forgotten how to work. Skywarp let him lean â the smaller mechâs acrophobia was no secret, and heâd spent the entire journey clinging to him with both arms, optics offline, trying not to tremble too much but still distractingly shaky.
âSkywarp,â Jazz greeted, coming forwards, looking relaxed but keeping his gaze fixed on the uncomfortable Ramjet. âWe spotted your coming and let Cybertron know you were on your way, but does anyone need Ratchet before you ship out?â
Skywarp snorted. âThanks, but no thanks. No offence, but weâre not planning on hanging around.â He pulled carefully on Slipstreamâs arm and got him back onto his feet. âOnly a few more steps, Seemo, then you can fall apart in safety. All right?â
Prowl stood quietly watching them approach the spacebridge; he gave Ramjet a very long, meaningful stare, but didnât challenge them.
Skywarp gave the Autobot a nod, but otherwise ignored him, hustling Ramjet along in front and hoping Prowl would play into the ruse the mech was his prisoner â or at least wouldnât call him out, because his own sleek arms and absence of weaponry was kinda obvious.
Thankfully, no-one challenged why Ramjet was still carrying Dash, either. That would have been harder to explain without publically going into the detail Skywarp wanted to avoid.
The four emerged from the transport wormhole to a bristling blue wall of defensive shielding, scattered in a big circle between a loose perimeter of hastily-erected barriers. It looked like half the Deixar force was there, anticipating Megatron himself to be coming through.
âWhoa.â Even Skywarp took a step back, surprised. âThatâs a bigger welcome than I was expecting.â
Ramjet tensed and stumbled backwards behind Skywarpâs wings. Heâd have probably ducked straight back through the spacebridge if it hadnât (inconveniently) already deactivated. âI thought you said Iâd have to convince your bros?â he hissed. âNot the entire fragging police force! You never said anything about this.â
âHate to break it to you but I havenât had a tonne of contact with Cybertron in the last few orns?â
A big white shape with blazing blue optics broke through the vanguard, closely followed by a familiar set of blue wings, and advanced with a thunderous stride that made the ground shake. Skywarp heard Ramjetâs fans kick subtly to a higher frequency. With the femmeâs field broadcasting her emotions so scorchingly hot, it did feel rather like having a hostile blue-white star bearing down on them.
The giant wrestled her self-control back and stumbled to a halt an armâs length away. âHand her over,â she instructed, shakily, then added; âplease.â
For several seconds, Ramjet just stared. Celerity was easily as tall as him, and must have massed getting on for double. He barely even noticed Thundercracker approaching behind her.
Skywarp kicked him in the back of the leg. It was enough to break through the haze of fight-or-flight and he realised the sparkling was on the point of squirming out of his hands all by herself anyway.
Ramjet hastily plonked the tiny bot into the large palms, and the supernova rapidly deflated.
For several long seconds, Celerity just held her sparkling, the tension visibly draining out of her. Skydash clicked and squirmed and tried to mould herself all the way into her chassis.
âAma, ama, ama,â the sparkling repeated, like an excited mantra. âAma, ama!â
The instant Skydash had calmed enough to handle, Celerity peeled the baby carefully off her armour, and gently passed her into Thundercrackerâs confused hands; Skydash shrieked and flailed excitedly and scrambled up his arm to latch around his neck. âBe good for a moment?â she said, with a smile, although it wasnât obvious who exactly she was talking to.
Then she turned, and sent Ramjet reeling with a piledriver right hook to the face.
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OMG BRO I WAS JUST THINKING OF THIS CZ I JUST STARTED WATCHING DUCKTALES (2017) AND OMG WHEN I HEARD MARK BEAKS I WAS LIKE WAIT A DAMN MINUTE NOW- IS THAT BOOTYYYSHAKER9000?!?! AND IS ALSO A NERD?!???
We always joke about Ben Schwartz voicing blue characters
but we forget about Josh Brener voicing nerds
#yep oh and btw about Ducktales i fcking love it omg#WHY DID I HAVE TO WATCH IT SO LATE AGHHH#I WISH THE FANDOM WAS BIGGER WHYYY#i love how both Ben and Josh are in that show yeyey#josh brener#ben schwartz#tmnt#rottmnt#tmnt leo#sonic#dewey duck#skidmark#skydasher steve#coach freebird#rutabaga rabitowitz#mark beaks#ducktales#ducktales 2017#jackie reblogs#jackie rants
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Remember Me, Chapter 6
Skywarp comes up with a plan to rescue the kids. Itâs a terrible plan, but itâs better than no plan at all â right, Screamer?
He probably ought to have run it past his bros before swinging straight into carrying it out, though.
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Slipstream had already lost track of the number of times heâd been sent sprawling, when his captors finally hustled him into a cell and kicked his feet out from under him again. He wasnât completely sure what they had planned for him, but was fairly confident it wasnât going to be comfortable⊠and when Ramjet vanished with Skydash, he was certain it wasnât going to be. He made a spirited effort to follow them, fear of what they might do to his cousin lending him a strength he didnât normally have, but was ultimately no match for the two large, well-armed Decepticons.
Dirge backed him into a corner. The jet wore the kind of smile that anyone with a half-developed sense of self-preservation would have run away from â if theyâd been able to. Heâd still made no effort to clean Longbeamâs bright yellow finger-gouges off his cheek. âSo, superstar. Look at you. All grown up,â he purred. âAlmost a miracle. I wouldnât have put money on it â not with parents like yours. I guess thereâs just something in the family code that makes you slaggers hard to convince to die, huh?â
Slipstream somehow managed to keep the static out of his voice. âWhat do you want.â
Dirge paced back and forth in the space between his prisoner and the door, casually. âWho said I should need a reason to come see my favourite person?â His smile broadened. âYouâre in my territory now, Slippy. And I have a little old score to settle. Remember that time in the desert, where you helped sneak TC out from under my watch, and made me look like an incompetent idiot?â
Slipstream felt his pumps stutter, uncomfortably. He tried offlining them, but it didnât feel like it helped much. ââŠyes.â
âYeah! I sure remember it. Thatâs what makes it such a shame, you know? This whole thing.â The blue conehead examined his fingers, artfully, and shook his helm, casting a sly glance sidelong to check for Slipstreamâs reaction. âI mean, price of scrap metal has really taken a nosedive lately. We coulda got a much better price off the squishies if weâd took the chance to smelt you down a vorn or two earlier.â Seeing the smaller mech visibly cringe, his lips spread wider in a smirk. âWhat, did you think I was gonna say it was a shame you didnât join up when you had the chance? Like weâd need a depressive little nonentity like you in the ranks.â
Thrust snickered. âYeah, Dirge here has that market cornered already. He doesnât need the competition when it comes to depressive nonentities.â
Dirge glared and gave him a swift kick in the back of one thruster; the red jet gave a startled yelp of pain, and hastily shoved back, embarrassed by the over-reaction.
He was sure he probably wasnât supposed to have heard, but Slipstream picked up Dirgeâs frustrated growl of stick to the plan, will you? And Thrustâs immediate return hiss of WHAT plan, you always frigginâ wing it and blame me when you screw up. For an instant, it looked like they were more interested in coming to blows with each other, right up in each otherâs faces.
Slipstream almost dared to hope that theyâd get too invested in their own quarrel, and forget about him⊠but hadnât counted on the strength of feeling that would have brewed behind forty vorns of simmering resentment.
After a brief session of shoving and posturing, the two coneheads managed to get back on track.
âSo, where were we, Slips?â Dirge moved to close the gap between himself and his prisoner. âReminiscing about the good old days, right? Canât deny that Iâve been looking forwards to the time we got to meet again. Especially after that big white blob kept me from shooting the two of you after you snuck out.â He pressed his fist into his palm. âThat woulda spoiled the party today though, right? Now come on. Get up. On your feet.â
âIâd rather stay down here, thanks.â
âIâm sorry, did I sound like I was giving you a choice? Get up. Or do I have to get Thrust to help you?â Dirge flicked a hand at Thrust, who rolled his optics a little but obediently moved in closer.
Slipstream hastily scrambled to his feet. Often, having a wall at his back reassured him, but now it just emphasised the fact there was nowhere to go. He tugged uselessly at his wrists, wishing he could get the cuffs off â not that having his hands free would actually help that much against two fully-armed warmechs, but it might have made him feel a little better. Like he at least had the option of trying to defend himself.
Even if that might have only involved covering his face.
âSo.â Dirge leaned down very close to their prisoner, and was gratified to see the younger mech flinch and turn his face away. âI guess now is a good time to educate you on a few things, yeah? Like how when you were tiny and stupid, we had this unwritten rule that we werenât to hurt you. That you were too young to understand what we were fighting for, and maybe, if we treated you nicely, let you figure out for yourself that we were legitimate, maybe youâd grow up as one of us.â His voice lowered to a murmur. âWell, guess what? Youâre all grown up, now.â He smirked. âAnd you invited us into your life by choosing to become our enemy.â He tapped a finger against the little Autobot insignia etched into Slipstreamâs chassis.
Slipstream hunched his shoulders and leaned back, just a little, just out of immediate reach. âYou can blame the Triplechangers for that.â
âYeah â blame, or thank, one of the two. I mean, itâs a lot less politically-incorrect to beat your enemy to a pulp than it is to squish some dithery little neutral, right?â Dirgeâs lips pulled thin, showing his denta. âWho am I kidding. Like Iâd not take the chance to bludgeon you over the head just because you werenât an Autobot. This just makes it easier to justifyâŠâ
The first blow wasnât exactly a surprise, but it still caught Slipstream off-guard â a solid punch in the side of his helm, crashing him backwards into the wall. Pain rang like a thunderclap through him; he couldnât be completely sure, not with all his senses destabilised, but it felt like the crystal of his sidelight had shattered. There was certainly something leaking â stinking sharp and volatile where it ran down into his collar armour.
He tried to be brave â to do his family proud, to hold up his strong Autobot heritage, and not be defeated by a bunch of Decepticon thugs⊠but it hurt too much to do anything except curl as best he could into a self-protective bundle, trying to shield sensitive components from the beating.
Ultimately, even Dirge finally got bored. After activating the forcefield that closed the cell, he headed off in a very jovial mood with Thrust, apparently going to find some high-grade to celebrate their successful mission.
Slipstream wallowed in self-pity for a little while, curled up in his corner, trying to ignore the bright pink smears on the walls, the floor, his own armour⊠trying to concentrate on slowly disconnecting or rerouting systems away from all the spots that hurt.
Hard to think what they might be doing to Skydash, while he wasnât there and couldnât protect her. Although âprotectâ was a bit of a stretch. More like, keep their attention away from her by offering himself as a better target.
Concentrating on fixing up what he could helped keep him at least slightly grounded. Energon crystallised off, obediently, plugging up the damaged, leaky vessels. Coolant vapours made the air stink; he deactivated a handful of pumps and let the broken pipes run dry. Heâd have to rely on his fans until he could get repairs, but that would probably be all right. Heâd maybe be a bit sluggish but at least heâd be functioning. Right?
Because he was going to get out of here, somehow.
Repairs werenât just a daydream.
Primus. What were they doing to Dash?
When you were tiny and stupid, we had this unwritten rule that we werenât to hurt you, Dirge reminded him, out of the recent past. Slipstream latched onto the memory, hoping that perhaps Skydash would likewise be âtoo small and stupidâ for them to want to harm. The idea theyâd want to turn her against her parents for no reason other than to punish her family seemed altogether too plausible. Maybe theyâd never bring her back-
The clump of heavy footsteps drew his attention; Motormaster appeared in the doorway, and deactivated the forcefield. Slipstream automatically cringed away.
The big mech wasnât interested in doling out violence, however. âHere. Catch.â
Before Slipstream could gather his wits, Motormaster flicked his wrist and sent a small bundle flying through the air.
A small Skydash-coloured bundle.
Alarm shot through him. Slipstream hurled himself forwards, and just managed to get underneath her, rolling with her to the ground to try and absorb a little of the impact. She still tumbled off him and hit the deck, but it was with only a little clunk, not a horrible wet broken crash. He curled over her, automatically, as if he could somehow protect her.
The stunticon outside the cell gave a dismissive snort, and â miraculously â turned away.
Slipstream waited until he could no longer hear footsteps before finally straightening up and checking Skydash over. He almost cried to see she was completely totally uninjured and perfect. She was scared, and crackling with static, and wanted her mama, but that was all. And Primus did he ever sympathise. Heâd not wanted his parents like this quite so badly for a long time. All he wanted was to curl up next to his damâs spark and let the rest of the world go dim around him.
âHey, Dash. Come on, bit. Talk to me?â He leaned down and bumped her with his cheek. âItâs just me here now. Youâre here with me and itâs all right.â
It took a good portion of a breem for Skydash to respond, during which time he gently shuffled her into his corner, where he could con himself into thinking he could perhaps protect her. She finally uncurled from her ball, looking fearfully around the small cell, still vibrating softly in distress but growing braver now she was satisfied they were genuinely the only two present. She climbed into her cousinâs lap, then wriggled her way up his chest, thrusting her small head up under his chin.
âHey Dashie.â Slipstream tucked up his knees and rested his cheek against the top of her head, gently. âAre you all right? Did they hurt you at all?â
âNot hurt,â she confirmed, quietly. âWant Ama.â Most of the static had faded from her voice, but she still crackled every now and then.
âYeah. I know. Me too.â He sighed, softly. âJust⊠have to be patient, all right? Do you think you can do that? They wonât hurt us while they still need us.â
Skydash stared up into his face. âUnnol hurt,â she challenged, reaching out a small hand to touch the glitter of crystallised energon on his cheek, and watched him flinch â only a tiny bit, but enough to make her snatch her hand back. âMake lies.â
He found a smile, and bumped cheeks with her. âAw, Iâm all right. I can get bashed around without hurting too badly. I had good teachers; you remember the Twins, right?â
She gave his features a brief but intense scrutiny â the dim, broken optic, the dried energon still crusting the damaged aerials, the new little dents and paint transfers â apparently trying to decide if she believed him. Even Sunny and Sides hadnât put him through the mill quite this badly, even when he was at his most argumentative and asking-for-it. He kept up his smile for a little longer, and eventually she decided she didnât want to challenge the lie, jamming herself back into the top curve of his chassis, the top of her head coming up under his chin. ââŠsee Ama soon?â
âYeah. I hope so. Soon.â
~~~~~~
For as long as he could remember, Thundercracker had been prone to headaches â although they were usually caused by his beloved wingmates. And never this bad.
It was only after the Triplechangers caught them so catastrophically off-guard, many vorns ago, that the headaches turned into incapacitating migraines. Stress usually set them off, spiking the pressure in coolant lines around his helm and destabilising his optics badly enough that theyâd cut out altogether.
When his vision started to bleed into false-colours and static, he knew he was in for a bad one. He wasnât quite sure how heâd got home, when even barely moving still managed to upset the precarious stability of his cortical pressure.
Right now, he cut a spectacularly unwarriorlike figure, sitting in the atrium with a foil around his shoulders and a coolant pack weighing his helm down, wishing heâd gone and done something about it last time. It wasnât even as if this was the first time heâd regretted not going to a doctor and getting it fixed! But every time he considered it, there seemed to be something more immediate and important that needed his attention. (Usually, that thing was what triggered the migraine in the first place.) Heâd put it off, and put it off, and eventually itâd fade off his radar⊠until the next one rolled around.
Knowing he was a walking liability was making his migraine worse. It kinda hurt to know you actually were the burden you thought everyone was talking about behind your wings.
Starscream had fussed noisily until a long-suffering Forceps had found a patch to force a temporary pressure bleed, but Thundercracker knew itâd take a while to kick in, and that didnât guarantee heâd get his vision back any time soon.
As a much younger mech, new to the Decepticon cause and unsure how much of his weight he wanted to throw behind it, heâd been accused of being a ditherer â irresolute, couldnât make a decision, always left everything too late.
Now, when he absolutely knew with a hundred percent conviction what he wanted â needed â to do? To go straight out to the spacebridge, fly direct to Earth, storm Nemesis, scoop his family to safety?
Didnât matter what he wanted, any more, did it? Might as well put a little gift ribbon around his neck and go hand himself over.
At least he wasnât the only one stuck for a response. Celerity still sat on the floor next to his feet, one arm stretched lightly round behind his thrusters, her head resting against his knees, purring quietly for him. Sheâd pitched it so that the subtle near-infrasound harmonised with his electric field, supportive and soothing â something she usually did for their sparkling when Skydash was having a tantrum. Figured.
Her field felt a fraction less strangled than it previously had, but now worry and exhaustion bled across their bond, in spite of her best efforts not to let it.
=you donât have to be strong for everyone all the time= he reminded her.
She⊠acknowledged it, sort of, but not with anything verbal.
He shuffled awkwardly off the seat and down to the floor, to sit beside her. =Be all right. Just have to wait for Star to come up with a masterplan= he consoled, although it felt a little flat to him, too.
If only Starscream would make an effort to at least try and find his volume controlâŠ!
Wanting more information, the red jet had contacted Vantage, their reluctant silver spacebridge monitor. Finding out the mech had actually gone and let the Coneheads through with no questions and no notification? Had triggered another outburst of bad temper. He wasnât quite as glass-etchingly strident as he had the capacity to be, but he was being unnecessarily loud, and to Thundercracker it felt like the words were echoing inside his head.
On the Earth end of the connection, Vantage looked like he'd have appreciated it if the ground would open and swallow him. âI-I thought they were coming for the whole New Vos thing.â
Starscream threw both arms up. âYou didn't think to challenge it?!â
âNo? Theyâre Seekers. I thought it was a Seeker thing? Why would I have challenged it?â
âWell I donât know, perhaps the fact that theyâre still fully-paid-up members of the Decepticon regime?! How did they even know about it?â
Vantage visibly cringed. ââŠI mighta asked them if it was why they wanted to come through.â
âWell thank you very much for making my job infinitely harder. Did you remember to invite Megatron while you were at it?!â
In the corner of the room, Skywarp put up his hands, and disappeared silently upstairs. He was apparently as tired of the noise as everyone else.
Pulsar watched him go into their shared room. She knew he tended to overthink, particularly when he was anxious, coming up with outlandish ideas that often made any bad situation worse. Quietly she slipped away from the atrium, and followed him up to the top floor.
She found Skywarp standing at the big terminal built into the wall, fiddling with his shield emitters, running diagnostics. The faint purple nimbus of active riot screens glowed around him. He didnât look particularly anxious; his lips were compressed into a determined line and a small, serious frown furrowed his brow.
He startled at hearing her footsteps, but quickly relaxed upon seeing who it was. âOh, itâs only you.â
âThanks. Nice to know youâre glad to see me.â Pulsar gestured at the atrium with a sweep of one arm. âWhat are you even doing? Donât you want to be with the rest of us, helping out?â
âTo do what, exactly? Arenât there enough folk down there already, getting in the way?â
She folded her arms, unimpressed. âYouâd rather be up here instead, faffing about with unimportant things?â
âIf youâre gonna get on my case, at least keep your voice down about it.â He pursed his lips, and slotted his fingers into a dedicated grip in the terminal, turning it through ninety degrees; the light of a green scanning laser swept once up and down his armour, checking for weak spots. âOr are you trying to tell the whole world what Iâm doing?â
Pulsar obediently lowered her voice. âWhat are you doing?â
At last, Skywarp looked satisfied, straightening up. The subtle glow of his shielding finally winked out. âIâm going to fetch the wee sparks back.â
Pulsar just stared at him for a full few seconds, mouth open. âWhat, on your own?â
âOf course on my own. Why do you think Iâm trying to sneak out?â
âBut you canât just-⊠thatâll be suicide!â
He set his hands on his hips and cocked his head, expectantly. âSo, you got a better plan, have you?â
âYes, I have an amazing plan. Itâs called âletâs actually wait for Starscream to think of something practical and not take on Megatron singlehandedlyâ?â
He gave her a weird sort of patient glare and flapped a hand. âI canât be sitting around waiting for Screamer to scheme his way to something that might work if he manages not to get distracted by gloating about how much better he is as leader. Besides, all of us going together is exactly what old Buckethead wants. Why should I make it easy for him to kill the three of us?â
âRemind me how this makes your plan a good one.â
âWell, heâs not gonna kill me if I go on my own, right?â Skywarp grinned, although he couldnât quite hide the tension that tightened around his optics. âHe wants to force us to watch each other dying. Itâll ruin everything if I go and grey out before Screamer can see it.â
âUnless he decides to record it, and sends it to him as a gift.â Pulsar stepped closer and caught his hand, and folding it into both of hers. âPlease. At least discuss it with everyone before you launch into the unknown.â
Skywarp could feel her trembling, slightly, genuinely alarmed by his impetuous plan. He almost felt guilty for suggesting it. âSo Screamer can put a total nix on it? Great idea.â
She looked away. âThat might have been why I suggested you do it.â
He squeezed her fingers. âEh, itâll be fine. I⊠kinda know what Iâm doing?â He lowered his voice. âMegatron thinks he knows me, right? I was a âCon most of my life and thereâs not much about me thatâs ever been subtle. By which token,â his expression brightened, optimistically, âmaybe heâll underestimate me.â
âThereâs way too many maybe-s in this plan. What if this is exactly what he knew youâd do?â
âIf Megs just wanted us dead, he wouldnât have given us any warning. Heâd have come here and done it. Letâs face it, Ramjetâs trine proved we let our attention drift way too far away from where it shoulda been, it woulda been easy to knock at least one of us off if theyâd tried hard enough and werenât a bunch of idiots. But?â He shrugged, gesturing with his free hand, palm out. âMegatronâs⊠basically told us what heâs planning? I guess itâs because he knows all Screamerâs triggers, and heâs baiting him in? He knows our wingleaderâs just as stupid as me, at times, and if he can get him worked up, heâs easier to deal with.â
Pulsar leaned back a little, as though somehow capable of anchoring him, keeping her grip on his hand. âThat doesnât mean you have to go now.â
âIn an ideal world where he gives Screamer a chance to scheme up something decent? Sure, maybe. But this isnât that world, and if we donât do something soon, heâs gonna get bored and encourage us to fly blind by posting bits of them back to us.â Skywarp pursed his lips. âI played the âPulsar scavenger huntâ once before, and it sucked. I donât wanna play it again.â
She winced and looked away.
He peered out into the street, and checked the weather conditions. âSo youâre gonna cover for me, right?â
âCov-⊠no. What? No!â She recoiled subtly in alarm, letting go of his hand and putting both of hers up in a stop gesture. âI canât cover for you, what are you even talking about. Iâm not getting involved in this stupid plan of yours-!â
He gave her a vaguely smug look, brows arched. âI hate to break it to you, but you already are. Ever since you snuck after me to make sure I wasnât getting up to no good.â
âI was worried about you-! Not that youâd understand the concept.â She covered her face with both hands, briefly. âI could yell for help. Stop you going.â
âBut you wonât, because you know Iâm right. And you want our family back together just as much as I do.â
âThat doesnât mean Iâm happy to let you sacrifice yourself in the process-!â
âWell, you canât stop me, so you might as well help out. I just need you to run interference until I can get through the bridge, all right?â
âWarp-⊠how?â She spread her hands. âMy inability to lie convincingly is a running joke. Starscream will see through me the instant I engage my vocaliser.â
âI didnât say you had to make up an excuse.â He gave her a sneaky smile and strummed a finger across her antennae. âI know one thing you could do that would be guaranteed to keep them from coming up to investigate.â
She just⊠stared at him, for several seconds, before finally locating her voice. âDid you miss the gravity of the situation, or was it just too entertaining for you to suggest I try and fake an overload to distract the guys downstairs?â Â
His expression broadened into a pleased grin.
She folded her arms across her chassis, stubbornly. âTheyâd never believe it anyway. Even youâre not that insensitive.â
âLook, even if you just buy me a breem or two, thatâll give me a head start. Theyâre gonna notice Iâm gone the second my signal falls off the registry so itâs not like you have to do it for long.â
âUgh. All right.â She covered her antennae with both hands. âIâll think of something.â
âThanks, Squeaks. I owe you one.â He plopped a kiss onto the top of her smooth helm, and disappeared in a flutter of collapsing air.
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Remember Me, chapter four
Title (chapter): Remember Me (04)
Series: Transformers, G1-based âBlueâ AU
Rating: PG-13
Notes: In which Slipstream realises just how big this thing might be that he and Dash are caught up in, and Starscream finally gets back from New Vos to a hostile welcome.
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The command centre on Nemesis was every bit as sickly purple and ostentatiously oversized as Slipstream remembered it.
He didnât remember ever seeing it from this angle, though.
âShow proper respect to your new master, scum!â
The shove to one shoulder made him stumble and fall to his knees. Before he could recover, scramble clumsily back to his feet, something heavy â and hot; someoneâs thruster? â pressed down on the back of his neck, forced him to bow his helm.
Slipstream snarled in pain and bucked, trying to squirm his way out, but the bigger mech just kept increasing the pressure on the back of his neck until he was almost crushed flat to the floor. Ultimately it hurt too much to keep struggling, and he went limp. The scorching weight on the back of his neck disappeared.
âGood boy,â a condescending voice cooed, close to his helm. Felt like Dirge. âKeep this up, and maybe we wonât feel forced to use you as target practice⊠quite so much.â
The ripple of unkind laughter which simmered through the crowd was quickly replaced by a weirdly expectant lull, broken only by the sound of mechs jockeying for position, and the sound of approaching footsteps.
A new voice spoke up, somewhere just above and in front. âI should admit to being impressed, Ramjet. Your trine have actually done well, for a change.â
Well, there was no mistaking those gravelly tones. Suddenly, Slipstream didnât really want to get up, any more.
âThank you, mighty Megatron. It is an honour to serve!â
There were jeers from the rest of the assembly. An honour to serve! Get up off your belly, Ramjet; whoâd you think you are; Screamer? Yeah, well done for kidnapping a sparkling.
Someone caught a hand under Slipstreamâs shoulder and hauled him upright. He had to work hard to restrain a flinch.
Barely an armâs length away, Megatron sat scrutinising him â elbows propped on his knees, leaning down towards him. The warlord looked good; not the scruffy, half-starved bundle of desperation the youngster had expected, from the disparaging way his family had taken to describing him. Poor Megatron, stuck on the wrong side of the spacebridge, squabbling with Autobots.
No, the mech sitting staring down on him looked clean and capable, well-oiled and powerful. Every inch the nightmare that could flatten everything on Cybertron, if he wanted.
âSlipstream,â he said, at last. âConsiderably larger than last time we met.â
Slipstream didnât recognise his own voice â thin and fracturing. âYes, sir.â
Didnât hurt to be polite, even if you did feel like purging a tank, right?
âI did expect more from you,â the old warlord finally said, at last, relaxing back in his chair. âAs a sparkling, I could see the potential in you. A small mirror of your sire, who had been loyal to me for a very long time. With a littleâŠâ He wafted a hand. ââŠcoaching, in the right direction? A little reminder of why this was the only faction that would ever truly understand you? The two of you could have been valuable assets in my campaign.â He elaborated a sigh. âInstead, I see just another unimaginative, whining Autobot, with the lack of ambition that comes as standard.â
Slipstream bristled. The words might have still been faint, but they were out before he got the chance to evaluate whether they were actually sensible to say; âI donât think I asked for your approval.â
The blow came out of nowhere â an almighty, needlessly violent kick to the head, it sent him skidding across the deck. He fetched up against someoneâs legs, puffing softly in alarm.
The bellow chased him across the floor; âWatch your manners, dirtcrawler!â Only just able to pick up the words through a haze of distortions, he wasnât even sure who was yelling. The owner of the legs used their feet to hustle him back to the centre of the room.
He could feel a trickle of⊠something⊠begin to ooze down from his temple. His diagnostics couldnât make up their mind on what they thought it was. He hoped it was only energon.
Megatron watched with a smirk. âPlease donât kill our guest before weâve had the chance to make use of him.â
Dirge chose his moment perfectly. âDonât worry, sir. If that one gets broken, we just use the spare.â
When the blue jet didnât immediately elaborate, Megatron lifted his head briefly off his hand, and waved his fingers, impatiently. âGo on.â
Dirge waited until he was sure every optic was on him before opening his cockpit and extracting something small. He strode through the centre of the mass and with a flourish, placed it into Megatronâs hands. âFirst-instar sparkling,â he said, for the benefit of anyone without optics.
âWell this is very interesting,â Megatron purred, holding the small body up in front of his face; Skydash curled up, facing away from him, hugging her knees. âDirge, I am very impressed.â
Dirge preened at the praise, thumbing his nose at the jeers from his comrades. âThank you, sir.â
âNow. Where did you come from, I wonder.â
âWell, the little superstar hereâŠâ Dirge gave Slipstream a little shove and knocked him sideways, âwas meant to be looking after it. Wasnât counting on us coming along to spoil his orn, I guess.â He snorted and waited for Slipstream to wobble back to his knees before pushing him back over. âI figure they were so disappointed with their first effort â Iâd be disappointed; I mean, not only a dirtcrawler, but an Autobot, too? â they decided to try again? That or Skywarp just never understood the concept of protection.â
âAlways disappoints me when I realise you might be right. Thereâs grounder in it, again,â the warlord said, disappointedly. âJust canât keep from polluting his code, can he? I canât tell if itâs desperation leading to this lack of standards, or heâs just that easily swayed by a pretty face.â
Thrust leaned closer to his wingmate. âDoes this mean youâre gonna lay off with the Primusawful Pit-screech, now?â
Dirge flattened his hand over his wingmateâs face and gave him a shove. âThatâs one noisy little scrap of tin. Next time, you can try flying with it caterwauling in your cockpit.â
âSheâs not caterwauling. Sheâs scared,â Slipstream spoke up, quietly. âIâm surprised a bunch of cowards like you donât understand that. Sheâs had no part in your squabble, leave her out of it.â
âDid you forget the part weâre at war, you worthless nonentity?â Dirge closed a fist on the antennae spreading from the right of Slipstreamâs helm, and dragged him halfway up off the floor. Slipstream squeaked in pain and scrambled to get his feet underneath himself. âThat makes everybody fair game.â
Thrust folded his arms and glared. âGood going there, scrappy. He was almost in a good mood, there. Now Iâm gonna have to put up with him sulking all night.â
Megatron set the sparkling down on the arm of his chair; Skydash stayed huddled in the smallest ball she could manage, but looked too scared to try and escape. âOh, I have a very specific reason for wanting you, Slipstream. Iâm not going to make either of you fight.â He propped his chin back on his hand. âNo, thereâs one thing I know I can always get from your kind of pathetic, snivelling coward. You make excellent bait.â
Slipstream stiffened. A very large penny had apparently dropped.
âI know your, ah⊠family⊠will feel obliged to rescue you. Starscream wonât be able to resist the urge to try and show me up. Skywarp wonât be slow to follow, since he doesnât have the brainpower for anything else. As for Thundercracker, well, when has that ditherer ever made a decision on his own, hmm?â Megatron sighed and shook his head, as though in regret. âBut when I have finally destroyed all three traitors, in full view of the watching planet, no power in this universe will be able to stop me taking back what is mine.â His lips curved into a smirk. âIt was so kind of that fool Starscream to do all the work for me, even if ultimately all he has created is another bloated, stagnating Autocracy. Waiting for me to step in and develop it to its true capacity.â
âThey wonât come here. Theyâll know itâs a trap. Theyâre not stupid!â
Megatron actually snorted. âIf thousands of vorns of war has taught me one thing I can rely on with absolute certainty? Itâs that your sire is most definitely stupid.â He gave the smaller mech a flat look. âDisappointing that it appears to run in the family.â
* * *
Starscream made remarkably good time back from New Vos, but didnât appear to have the most appropriate target for his frustration in mind, as evidenced by the raging scarlet ball of temper that appeared in the empty infirmary doorway, wings hiked high on its back. âRemind me why I seem to be the last person to find anything out, around here?!â
âExcuse me?â Skywarp rounded on him so fast, Starscream actually flinched a step or two backwards. âI told you within a handful of breems of finding out for myself. You shut me down, saying I didnât understand how important what youâre doing out in Vos is. Now youâve apparently decided I wasnât being a total moron for interrupting you, I should have told you faster?!â
Starscream puffed himself up, trying to avoid the need to admit Skywarpâs unexpected pushback had made him jump. âYou know that wasnât what I meant.â
âNo? Educate me.â Skywarp leaned in. Their faces were almost touching. âWhat did you mean.â
A soft, fracturing voice broke through in the brief silence. âGuys⊠please?â
With one final glare at each other, they turned to find Thundercracker perched on the edge of the empty berth, looking surprisingly small and sick, helm propped in both hands, wings drooping.
âYouâre both being kinda loud right now. I think this is gonna turn into a migraine and I really donât want to be laid up for five orns, again.â He drew in a long stabilising sigh of cold air and shuddered, wingtips trembling. âI havenât even started to think what Iâm gonna tell Lara.â
âPrimus, dude.â Skywarp leaned down and bumped cheeks, briefly. âIâm sorry. Lemme find you a cold pack or something.â
âThatâd be good. Thank youâŠâ
The medical supplies in the adjoining office werenât strictly for machines to help themselves to, but most staff had learned that Skywarp wasnât the sort to be put off by rules and regulations, and making things hard to obtain just increased the likelihood that heâd make an unholy mess while searching. Thundercrackerâs personal supply of icepacks were in a small easily-accessible chiller just inside the doorway; his âmigrainesâ were thankfully infrequent, but fairly infamous as well, and having an icepack on hand sometimes made the difference between it lasting one orn, or six. And him being able to still see.
Skywarp helped himself to two, and waved a threatening finger under the nose of the mech that had followed him into the office. âDonât. Even start.â
Starscream put his hands up in defeat. âI wasnât going to. Iâm sorry, all right?â
Skywarp grumbled wordlessly through his vents, but appeared somewhat mollified. âWhat then?â
âI was going to say, once weâve got TC comfortable, maybe we should go home.â Something dark passed through the smouldering scarlet optics. âSomeone wants our attention. I donât feel inclined to keep him waiting.â
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Remember Me, chapter five
Title (chapter): Remember Me (05)
Series: Transformers, G1-based âBlueâ AU
Rating: PG-13
Notes: After a âbrief, friendly chatâ with the âCons still on Earth, the family try to take stock of what options they have. Â Anybody got any ideas?
--------------
It really shouldnât have taken this long for their call to Earth to be answered.
Starscream paced and muttered to himself the whole time. âTheyâre doing this on purpose. Keeping me waiting.â
âWhat if theyâre just not there.â Already on edge, Skywarp had to keep his arms folded to keep from acting on the urge to punch him. Starscreamâs stupid, angry electric field was polluting the entire building. âWhat if theyâre on their way here, right now, because they know weâll be stood here wasting time, waiting for them to answer the fragginâ comms.â
âOh, no; theyâre there, all right. Theyâre doing this on purpose, to get at me. Thatâs what this whole thing is, some stupid⊠political⊠mind game.â
But itâs not your little sparks that have been turned into political currency, is it. Skywarp swallowed the words before they could escape, and instead said; âOf course it is. Mech, itâs not only me and TC that know the quickest way to get you flying blind into a situation is to make you think you donât have personal control of it.â
Starscream glared at him for an instant, but apparently didnât have an adequate counter-argument. âAre you implying Iâm a liability?â
âIâm not implying anything; Iâm saying it quite happily to your face. Theyâre trying to get you to rush into this because youâre easier to catch when you disconnect your brain.â
Starscream opened his mouth to say something that would no doubt have been particularly cutting, but never got the chance to vocalise it.
The terminal chirped and they both lunged for it, wings clashing.
âHi, Starscream! Skywarp.â Dirge smiled the universeâs most sickly, insincere of smiles. âOh, Iâm sorry, did I keep you waiting?â
Starscream glared and folded his arms. âI have no desire to swap small-talk with an imbecile. Where is Megatron.â
âYou want to get rid of me so soon? Aw, but we used to be f-âŠâ Dirge stopped to think about it for a second. âFellow cannon fodder!â
âAnd you remained it, you unimaginative blob of tin. Where is Megatron.â
Dirge propped his helm against one hand, contemplatively. âWhat do I get in return for reuniting you two old lovebots?â
While Starscream spluttered wordless outrage, Skywarp leaned in towards the pickup; âJust get him, Dirge.â
Dirgeâs smile turned into a smirk. âBut Iâd forgotten how satisfyingly easy it was to get under the Screamerâs plating. Just once more, for old timeâs-â
âNow, Dirge?â
âOh, fine. Whatever.â The blue mech reached up towards the visual pickup, and the scene abruptly skewed around to the left.
As it turned out, Megatron hadnât been very far away the entire time. Just off camera, in fact. Listening in, apparently amused by the speed at which Starscreamâs temper had flared. âGood to see some things never change.â
Skywarp was close enough to feel his wingmateâs field flush with a small additional storm of fireflies, angry and embarrassed. He set a hand on the leading edge of his wing. -steady, dude.-
-donât you âsteadyâ me- came the return snap⊠but the red mech seemed grateful anyway, a little of the prickliness easing off.
In the space in front of the big command chair, Megatron had arranged his trophies. Slipstream, now looking somewhat battered, and still cuffed, was half-kneeling half-dangling between Ramjet and Thrust, who held one arm each. Skydash sat by the warlordâs feet, curled up into the smallest ball conceivable.
âYou certainly took your time, Starscream,â Megatron drawled. âCan I read into it that youâre glad to have got rid of these two?â
Starscream puffed himself up, arms stiff at his sides. âDonât blame me for the fact the only followers you have left are a band of incompetents who canât figure out how to work the communications terminal.â
âHaha! Figures that youâd know what one of them looks like, right Screamer?â Thrust chimed in; Ramjet gave him a frustrated shove.
Starscream ignored both of them. âYou wanted my attention? Youâve got it. Letâs get to the point, shall we?â
Megatron shrugged, casually. âOld friends arenât allowed to call each other for a chat, every now and then?â
âYou have never been my friend, Megatron. Obstacles rarely are.â
Megatronâs jaw tightened, subtly. He directed his gaze towards Skywarp, as if to say oh really.
âGet to the point. What do you want.â
âI suspect you know what I want.â Megatron relaxed back in his throne and wafted a hand, grandly. âI must admit to being⊠grudgingly impressed with what youâve done with the planet. Not particularly impressed by the way you did it, but then I probably shouldnât be surprised at your willingness to crawl on your belly if itâs a useful means to an end; Iâve seen it enough times.â
Starscream visibly took offence, rocking forwards onto his toes, hands balling into fists. âI worked hard for this and not once did I crawl anywhere-!â He had to make a visible effort to tame his increasingly shrill voice. âThis is what happens when people trust that youâre as good as you say you are, and donât treat you like an imbecile.â
âWell letâs hope those same trusting fools are equally forgiving, when they realise you have no way of actually protecting them from danger.â
âWhat precisely do you mean by that.â
âHavenât we just established that you are not an imbecile? You work it out.â
If he was alarmed by the threat, the Seeker didnât outwardly show it. âHow many followers have you actually got left, Megatron? Since I defected and almost your entire air force followed me?â
âHow many do I need?â The warlord smirked. âA handful of trained warriors should be plenty, against a district full of sluggish politicians and failed soldiers. And when they see how quickly you are defeated, I suspect the transition will be⊠somewhat peaceful.â
Tiring of the two mechs posturing, Skywarp put himself in the way; âHey, Seem? You all right, mech?â
âBeen better. Still alive.â Slipstream managed to croak, before Thrust took offence and delivered a quick punch to the side of his head.
âWho gave you permission to speak?â the conehead bellowed.
Slipstream cringed away from him as best he could, but added, hastily; âDashisfinetoo!â
Thrust made a half-step closer, as if to assault him again, but Ramjet shoved him backwards. Thrust made an obscene gesture but settled, glaring. No words came through audibly, so presumably the white jetâs snap of annoyance had gone over their private channel.
Skywarp leaned in towards the pickup, a little. âKeep your chin up, eh? Donât do anything stupid to annoy these guys. Weâll come and get both of you soon, all right?â
ââŠright.â
Megatron glared at the two coneheads. The microphone obediently picked up words which probably werenât meant to have been broadcast; this wasnât meant to be a social call, you two morons. Get them out of here.
âSo much for two old friends having a cosy chat, mighty Megatron,â Starscream observed, flatly, watching as the three coneheads hustled the two prisoners away. âLet them go. They have no part in our dispute.â
Megatronâs lip twitched; he couldnât quite get the smirk to fit as well over his face as it had done previously. Looked rather like he was biting down on the need to snarl. âNo part? On the contrary. I think those⊠insignificant little dirtcrawlers⊠have become a convenient weak point for you. Buut⊠if you want them so badlyâŠâ He shrugged and waved his hand, irritably. âMaybe we could be persuaded to send them back to you. One limb at a time. Or less, depending on how generous weâre feeling.â
Skywarp stiffened. âIf you so much as think about it-â
âYouâll what? Come here? Good! I look forwards to it.â The crimson gaze flickered briefly across the room. âJust as I look forwards to welcoming Thundercracker when he arrives. Weâll make sure heâs, ah. Well-cared-for, until youâre all here.â
ââŠwhat?â
âDonât take too long thinking about your options, now.â Megatron flattened his palm and made a side-to-side slicing motion, and the signal abruptly cut off.
Skywarp flopped out on the couch, arms sprawling. âWell this sucks slag.â
Starscream perched awkwardly beside him. ââŠum. Are you all right?â
Skywarp knew his wingmate probably actually meant please tell me youâre not going to fly off and do something moronic, now but it was nice to pretend he actually just meant are you all right for a change. He blew out a long whistle of exhaust and pressed the heel of both hands into his optics. âYeah. Iâm good. Thanks. You?â
âFrustrated.â The scarlet jet hesitated for a second, and added; âAll right, yes. Worried as well. I donât have an answer for this whole mess yet. But,â he lifted a triumphant finger, âmy computing capacity has never been better. Weâll think of something.â
Skywarp managed a small smile. âBetter not be that same computing capacity that gets us into trouble almost as much as I get us into trouble.â His smile faded. âJust wait until TC gets home. Then youâll have both of us to look after. Itâll be like Egypt, all over again.â
Starscream made an exasperated pfft noise through pursed lips, and rolled his optics, but it looked like it was mostly for effect.
Skywarp laced his fingers, and studied them quietly. âI know what youâre gonna say. My sparklings are always causing problems for you. The whole mess in Egypt was their fault, as well-â
âThat⊠wasnât precisely what I was going to say.â Starscream interrupted. âFor one, itâs not just your sparklings causing problems, this time; itâs Thundercrackerâs, as well.â A small smile curved the dark features. âI was going to say; this is what living with you feels like. Constant helmache.â
Now it was Skywarpâs turn to snort.
The rest of the family arrived en masse a breem or two later. Skyfire touched down incongruously lightly in the yard for a shuttle of his impressive bulk, apparently having followed Pulsar back from the station; the bike held the door open for him, and lingered there after heâd passed, watching while the remainder of the little party caught up.
Celerity had followed at a slower pace on foot, features drawn tight in a worried frown, carrying Thundercracker on her back, piggyback-style. The blue Seeker looked⊠dull. Grey and dusty. It was probably a measure of how bad he felt that he wasnât even protesting at the undignified way of getting home; just let his arms drape down over her shoulders, rested his helm against her, and let her carry him.
Once indoors, she crouched and allowed the mech to slide gracelessly onto the couch next to his wingmate, before taking up her usual spot on the floor by his thrusters, resting her cheek against his knees. Thundercracker stretched out an arm and rested his fingers lightly against her antennae.
Skywarp could sense both of their static envelopes â stressed and tightly-wound, trying not to upset each other any more than they already were, and only succeeding at making each other worse. The teleport swallowed the click of annoyance. More importantly, he could feel the heat still pouring off his wingmate; no wonder the guy looked so drawn. He hastily fetched him a coolant mantle.
âSo what did I miss?â Thundercracker finally asked, in a watery little voice that sounded nothing like his usual no-nonsense boom.
Skywarp let their wings touch. âNot much. Bit of posturing between Screamer and the Psychotron, but we didnât find out much we didnât already know.â
âYou called him already?â Thundercracker turned and stared blindly through him. âYou didnât wait for me to get back?â
Skywarp rubbed the back of his helm and glanced away, guiltily. âEh, well. Didnât wanna make your migraine worse, you know?â he lied.
ââŠalso didnât want to let him know our trineâs strength is down by a third already?â
âHe thinks youâre on your way already, mech.â Skywarp gave his hand a squeeze. âAnd the Dashletâs fine. All right? Weâve seen her. Scared, sure, but sheâs not hurt. We donât know if he even realises sheâs yours.â
Thundercracker sagged against him, like a deflating balloon. âSmall miracles.â
âAinât it just?â Skywarp moved his other arm out of the way to allow a small, prickly body to climb into his lap. âHey, Squeaky. Whereâs Footloose got to?â
Pulsar offered a sigh and tucked up against him, stretching a small arm across his chassis. âStaying with the ambulance crew, for now. Theyâre better at getting her to calm down than me.â
Starscream settled gingerly on the drinks table in front of them, not entirely clear if it would hold his weight. He waited until everyoneâs attention was on him before finally speaking. âWe need to get a plan together, and fast. Megatron thinks heâs got us in a corner, but weâll figure out how to escape.â A frustrated smile pulled his lips into a tight line. âNow. Has anyone got any ideas?â
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Remember Me, chapter three
Title (chapter): Remember Me (03)
Series: Transformers, G1-based âBlueâ AU
Rating: PG-13
Notes: In which Skywarp has to deal with a meltdown, and Screamer, what are you even doing still out in Vos, you ignorant glitch.
Down in the small station infirmary, Longbeam cut a particularly pathetic figure on the oversized berth. Her optics were back online, but dim, and her angular features looked strangely gaunt. An external pump fed a slow, steady drip of energon into her damaged primary circulation via a line just under the surface of her neck. At least she wasnât bleeding any more â the place didnât need to be covered in any more tiny bright purple crystals. Someone had found a coolant mantle to support her shattered fans, but it looked like it had been designed with Hardline in mind, covering her whole upper body like a poncho â and even that couldnât quite hide the big carbonised semicircle of missing superstructure. It looked as if someone had taken a huge bite out of her midsection.
Vector sat beside her, her bikeâs one remaining hand enclosed in both her own big ones. She looked torn between furious and terrified, optics blazing a vivid cyan. Her discordant field left the room feeling heavy, as though a thunderstorm were brewing somewhere close by.
Probably not too far off the mark, Skywarp figured, keeping back just enough to let the duty medic move around him. He stood quietly at the foot of the berth, arms folded tight over his emotions, still wearing his shields and covered in scuffs of someone elseâs paint. Wouldnât want to be a Conehead if the riotbot latched her claws into them.
Frag. Wouldnât want to be a Conehead if I get my claws into them.
Heâd been mid-arrest when the sudden cacophony of frightened messages on the police waveband turned Deixarâs atmosphere an electric blue. Knowing he was going to be more important here, heâd completely bypassed the custody sergeant and dumped his prisoner straight off in cells. (He knew heâd get flack for it later, but couldnât bring himself to care, right now.)
Damage control was definitely not his forte, but maybe he could soften the blow a little when his wingmate finally made it back from Vos. The idea Thundercracker somehow hadnât heard about the attack and Seemâs abduction, and hadnât automatically extrapolated out to perhaps that would have meant Dash would have also gone missingâŠ?
He just wasnât sure what he was actually going to say. It was taking most of his limited brainpower to keep from storming the spacebridge and trying to fetch Slipstream back. Concentrating on being official and efficient was using enough processing power to keep him stable, and distract him from thinking too hard about what condition the youngling would be in when they finally tracked him down.
Spotweld was already hard at work, divided down the middle; while Weld was working on stabilising the bike, crimping off the final few lines still oozing fluids, it left Spot free to talk to the assembled crowd that had packed into the infirmary like mechanical sardines.
âWeâve got her stabilised, out of immediate danger. Sheâs crystallised off most of the damaged lines herself?â the polymorph confirmed. âBut sheâll need to be moved to hospital as soon as we can get her there? Weâre just waiting on Flatliner for transport. He should be here soon?â
âIâm sorry,â Longbeam wheezed, faintly, unable to manage much more than a few words at a time from her broken vocaliser. âI tried to get her away. They were quicker. I told her to hide but-⊠I couldnât see her. I donât know if they-⊠if they took her. Too damaged to look. I had to get back here. Iâm sorry.â
âSâokay, Beemer,â Skywarp counselled, sitting on the urge to shout and vent frustrated heat. âDonât stress out about it, right now. Donât want you blowing any more fuses before you get the chance to give us your scan data, all right?â
âSure, boss.â She squeezed out a huff of laughter that turned into a groan of pain. âGive you my scan data now. If you want it? Not like I can do-⊠much else, right now.â
âNo you canât,â Spot cut in, waggling a chastising finger. âIâm not having anyone go hunting for your upload connectors, youâre quite damaged enough already?â
âWe need her data, Spots,â Skywarp reminded, leaning closer, wings pulled high and stiff. âWe need to know how they got in, how they got out, and what other fraggery they might have got up to while our wings were turned.â
Spot failed to react to the implied threat in the jetâs pose, far too habituated to Seeker posturing to know the threat was mostly empty. âWell, you can wait for it? Like on any other case?â
âThis isnât any other case, Spots-!â Skywarp threw his hands up, frustrated, then caught the medicâs shoulder and forced the mech to turn and face him. âDid you miss the part where three fragginâ Decepticons got into our airspace, totally unchallenged, managed to cause chaos then escape â with two victims! â before we could do a slagging thing about it?â
âNo.â Spot refused to meet the hot crimson glare. âI also didnât miss the part where Beemer is laying here in pieces because of a squabble over territory she didnât need to be dragged into.â
The chastisement stung. Skywarp leaned in closer. âTheyâve got Seem, in case you forgot,â he said, unable to keep the growl from his voice. âAnd probably Dash, too.â
âI know. Donât try and act like you think Iâm not worried about them?â Spot ducked under Skywarpâs arm, out of the way, to rejoin Weld; his two halves zipped carefully together, returning him into a mech that looked somewhat normal. âBut it wonât help anyone if Beemer greys out on this table while we argue about what not she should be doing to help, right now?â
âWonât be at hospital long,â Longbeam spoke up. âGimme an orn or two. Back on my feet. Iâll help you hunt.â
Anyone with two cortical relays to rub together knew that was far from the truth â sheâd be in hospital for a while, assuming the medical team didnât decide it was safer and more straightforward to simply decant her spark into a completely new frame.
âAppreciate it.â Skywarp sighed, forced a smile, and patted her foot. âBut I guess Spots is right. We need to get you fully repaired before you can do anything. Canât have you chasing Coneheads if youâre still on the point of snapping in half.â
âTheyâre targeting you,â she said, softly. âThought I was Pulse. Said to say âthanksâ.â
ââŠdid they tell you what they were up to-?â
âHey.â Spotweld waved a daring finger in his face. âNot now.â
Skywarp batted the finger away, and opened his mouth to argue, but a ripple of disturbance out in the corridor (and approaching fast) preceded Thundercrackerâs arrival.
Great.
The blue jet barged his way to the front of the room, fairly radiating alarm, knocking people out of the way with his wings. âWhereâs Skydash?!â
Skywarp stepped in front of him, hands up, wings flaring subtly in an attempt to shield Spotweldâs patient from view. âItâs not a good idea for you to be here right now, TC. Come on, letâs go talk out there-â
Thundercracker tried to push past him, peering over his wings. âI-I heard weâd had- Ramjet? What were they doing here? And where is Dash?!â Then he clocked Longbeam. His optics visibly widened and his fans kicked into a higher gear. âWhat-what happened hereâŠ?â
Skywarp saw his wingmateâs legs wobbling and steered him hastily into a chair before he could end up in an unbecoming heap on his aft on the floor. For several seconds, Thundercracker could only cling to him, hands tight on his shoulders, concentrating on drawing cold air through his core.
âConeheads?â he managed, at last. âDid-did they-⊠to LongbeamâŠ?â
âYeah, and yeah.â Skywarp stayed in a crouch, so his brother had something to lean against, and watched his gaze flash around the room, trying to take it all in. He underlaid his words with a soothing harmonic, hoping it might help keep Thundercracker stable. âWeâre not sure what they came for, yet, except to cause trouble. We know theyâve got Seem.â
âAnd Dash?â Thundercracker finally looked down at him.
Skywarp kept up the subtle harmonic. No avoiding it now. âYeah. We figure maybe they have Dash as well. Pulsar and her sibs are out checking where they were last seen, just to be sure she hasnât hidden up in a crevice.â
âAnd youâre all just sitting here?â A flash of something ugly â a mixture of alarm and fear and outrage, and not all of it directed against the invaders â passed through the pale features, brightening the crimson optics. Thundercracker staggered halfway back to his thrusters. âWeâve got to get after them-! Why arenât you chasing them?â
âMech, theyâre already through the spacebridge! What do you think youâre gonna be able to do except stroll into an ambush-?â
Skywarp leaned his weight back in a futile attempt to weigh Thundercracker down, but it didnât have quite the desired effect; the blue jet pushed against him, unbalancing him, and used Skywarpâs inertia to vault himself over the teleportâs head. He lurched for the door, leaving his wingmate flat on his wings.
âAh, slag.â Skywarp scrambled inelegantly back to his thrusters. Knowing heâd never catch him in a straight footrace, he teleported to just out past the doors, already bracing for the impact.
Thundercracker collided with him with such a crunch, it was a miracle neither broke anything. Both went sprawling on the floor of the foyer. âWhat the Pit, Skywarp-!â
Skywarp was back up first, arms open, ready to tackle his wingmate again if needed. Times like this made him appreciate the marginally increased physical capabilities that came with his riot gear. âWill you just⊠stop, for a second? Take it from the expert; you canât go blundering off like this! Or do you want your head kicked in?â
âSince when do you tell me what I can and canât do-?â Thundercracker rounded on him, fists swinging. âJust because youâre too pitfragged stupid to think up a plan doesnât mean Iâm going to sit around and wait for them to call all the shots-! Now get out of my way!â
Skywarp caught the oncoming fist easily, caging it in his own hand. âFragging Primus, TC.â He used his bulk to force the blue Seeker back into the wall, and carefully pinned him there. âCan you even hear yourself, right now? This is exactly what they want us doing. Fighting each other, charging straight off into danger. Theyâre probably sat there on the other side of the bridge with a big fragging net, waiting for you.â
Thundercracker thrashed against the teleportâs superior strength, unable to get free. âAt least Iâm doing something, instead of sitting on my lazy aft waiting for someone else to come along and fix it for me, like always-!â
Skywarp had heard all the insults before â but it didnât make them easier to hear coming from his brother. He pursed his lips, hurt, and leaned harder until Thundercracker finally stopped struggling.
For a few seconds, the only sound was the ragged cycling of two sets of fans. Even the little crowd of curious onlookers that had gathered, alarmed to see the district chief of police brawling with his wingmate in the foyer, had fallen silent.
âIâm not sitting on my aft,â Skywarp corrected, quietly. âI didnât get here much before you. And Iâm actually using my processors, for once. Which you seem to have forgotten you have, and in far greater quantity than me.â
Scorching air continued to vent from Thundercrackerâs core, but the heat had begun to die out of his optics.
âDâyou seriously think Iâm still here for the fun of it?â Skywarp pushed his advantage. âTheyâve got Seem. Youâve seen what they did to Longbeam, and she was only in their way. I canât even imagine what theyâre doing to the poor brat, right now. The frag will he look like when we get him back?â
ââŠlet me go, Skywarp. You made your point.â
âYou gonna leg it again, if I do? Because I donât care what message it sends to the grunts, dude, I will cuff you to a chair if I have to.â
Thundercrackerâs features tightened in a small, subtly humiliated glare, but he shook his head. âI have control. You can let me go. Thank you.â
Warily, senses still on high alert, Skywarp carefully unpeeled his fingers from around his wingmateâs wrists, and stepped back from him.
Good to his word â and knowing Skywarp wasnât a mech prone to false promises â Thundercracker didnât immediately bolt. âYou better have a good plan.â
Skywarp visibly sagged. âPrimus, I wish. You were right on one count; Iâm not smart enough to come up with something on my own.â He spread his arms and half-shooed Thundercracker back towards the privacy of the medical suite. âIâm stuck on whether weâve got any course of action that doesnât involve probable suicide. Or having to beg help off the Autobots, which we seriously need to avoid because Primus, itâll all go direct to the smelter if we get them involved.â
Spotweld had finished preparing Longbeam for her trip to the hospital; the clear plastic sheath protected the injury from dust, but not prying optics. Finally getting a good look, Thundercracker winced and looked away.
Longbeam finally let the mask slip; her carefully-stoic features creased and her fingers began to tremble. âIâm sorry, sir. It was my fault. I thought I was fast enough.â A flicker of static crept into her voice. âIâm sorry-!â
Still silent, Vector gathered her up off the berth, and tucked her up against her broad chassis. She cast a frustrated/pleading look to the two Seekers, although Skywarp couldnât quite tell if it was meant to say catch the slaggers that did this or please donât be angry with her.
âDonât,â Thundercracker said, simply. âGoing against those three, I donât-⊠Thank you for making the effort.â He managed to drag his gaze away from the bikeâs sickening injury, and made an effort to straighten up and look professional. âWhat about you, anyway, Warp? Holding up all right?â
The teleport forced a grin. âSeemâs a survivor. He's got out of worse scrapes.â
Thundercracker clapped him on the shoulder. âIf there was anyone I'd trust to be kidnapped with her...â His words broke. âPrimus.â He covered his face with one shaking hand.
Skywarp guided him back into the same chair that had saved his dignity a breem or two before, and crouched next to it, offering his wings for Thundercracker to lean against; the blue jet didnât need to be invited twice, sagging into him. âItâll be fine,â he murmured, folding his brotherâs hand into his own. âThey'll be too busy wrangling my brat to hurt Dashie.â
âShe wanted to come, I-I should have taken her-â
âHey, quit that. Donât you even start trying to blame yourself for this, I mean Primus.â
From somewhere outside came the questioning uuu-whup? of Flatlinerâs siren; Spotweld went out to meet him.
Unfortunately the duty medic wasnât the only one to have spotted the ambulanceâs arrival.
âHey, Flatso? What are you doing here?â
Skywarp groaned inwardly at hearing his sparklingâs voice, out in the hallway.
âAh, Footsie. Right on time. Officer injured on duty, Iâm taking them to hospital. I could do with a hand, if youâre free.â
âReally? I hope itâs not Seem, haha.â Footloose voiced a nervous giggle, following him in. âUseless glitch vanished off-district without telling me he was going anywhere, and he was meant to be sparksitting.â
âNot to my knowledge, no. Patient is a bike.â
The small flier stopped in the doorway, looking baffled for an instant, confused by why half her family were already crowded into the room. âOh, hey? Does anyone here know why my idiot twin just fell off the registroh slag!â Finally spotting her aunt, Footloose leaped backwards and collided with the wall, covering her mouth with both hands. âOnnie?! What-what-â
Giving Thundercracker one last quick wingbump and a hasty apology, Skywarp turned to his sparkling with his hands out. âHey, spark. You really didnât ought to be here.â Right, because that worked so well on TC.
Her shaking thrusters skittered across the floor, scooting out from under her and dropping her gracelessly to her aft. âWhat hap-happened? Primus! Whereâs Seem? Is-is he hurt as-as well?â Her vocaliser skipped. âPrimus-! Is this why I canât see-see him any more? Where is he?!â
âWe donât know exactly where he is, but weâre pretty sure heâs all right.â Skywarp took both her hands into his own and wasnât entirely surprised when Footloose launched herself bodily into his arms, vibrating in distress. âWe think heâs been taken to Earth-â
âTake-taken? Taken by who?â
âBy Ramjetâs trine.â
âC-coneheads?â Her fans stuttered harder. âLike-⊠you mean Dirge?â
âYeah. Exactly like Dirge. Theyâve got your bro, and we think theyâve got Dash. Weâre figuring out what to do. But itâll be fine. Weâll sort it out. All right?â
âBut-but-⊠Dash? I was meant to take-⊠I swapped with Seem. We swapped! I had-⊠emergency, I couldnât-âŠâ She spotted Thundercracker in the chair; her fans hitched and her words got even more disjointed. âIâm sorry-⊠oh, Primus, Iâm sorry! Itâs my fault. I swapped with him!â
She hurled herself across the room and into the blue Seekerâs lap like a miniature freightliner, sobbing staticky apologies. After a second of startled immobility, he opened his arms and let her hug him.
Skywarp vented a sigh and folded his arms. Trust Footloose â now sheâd started bawling, it was setting everyone else off, including TC. (The poor mech had had a decent grip on his emotions until the wee spark had shown up, but now both of them were incoherent. Primus.)
It felt like all the air had been sucked out of the room. Leaving his family self-destructing in the infirmary, Skywarp teleported up to the roof, where it didnât feel like the full weight of every machine in there was packed on top of his wings.
Now what, world?
Never a good sign when he was expected to be the emotionally-responsible one.
And where the Pit was his fragheaded wingleader, anyway?!
-screamer, where are you-
-in vos. why?-
-vos? still?- Skywarp covered his face with both hands and allowed himself the luxury of a long, hot sigh of stressed exhaust. It didnât make him feel remotely better. -so, you deaf or just stupid?-
A stinging, wordless obscenity immediately came back, followed in short order by the sort of scathing remark that usually signalled a communications shutdown. -figures you wouldnât understand the importance of this-
-did you not hear whatâs going on back here-
-evidently not. what is going on-
He realised Starscream probably actually didnât know. Thundercracker would have got the signal by merit of being chief of police, but if he hadnât said anything before racing back to Deixar?
-coneheads, star. they attacked beemer, took seem and dash. already back through spacebridge-
There was a long pause. -on my way. donât let anyone get near comms-
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