Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Prologue: The Escape

Alert! Escape in process. Experiment number 60184 has escaped its containment cell.

“Which one’s that one?” Skywarp asked Thundercracker.

Thundercracker sighed as he got to his pedes. “Does it matter? We both know what will happen if we don’t respond.”

Skywarp groaned, throwing his hands up even as he moved to follow his brother. 

Repeat. Experiment number 60184 has escaped its containment. Security personnel to intercept at Sublevel Delta Subsection B.

“That’s near the space bridge, isn’t it?” Skywarp asked.

“Indeed,” Thundercracker said. “We won’t make it in time without your warping ability.”

“Too bad Shockwave disabled it so we couldn’t just leave ourselves,” Skywarp said, semi-sarcastically.

Despite this, they both transformed and began flying through the corridors, bypassing several Insecticons along the way that were also headed toward the escaped prisoner.

Once they reached the level where the experiment was being held, they didn’t stop, following blast marks and remains of offlined Insecticons to the large room that contained the space bridge. As they entered the room, they transformed, taking in the carnage around them.

“Was one experiment really powerful enough to do all this?” Thundercracker wondered. “I thought only the weaker ones were even kept on this level.”

“That’s because that’s true,” a voice said from behind him and Thundercracker had to hold in a groan of annoyance. 

Skywarp and Thundercracker were all but pushed aside to let a large femme past them. The femme stood taller than both of them by a few meters and looked more like a beast than a bot even in her bipedal mode, with massive wings and a long tail that ended in three massive spikes.  Her optics held a ferocious glint as they surveyed the damage and fallen Insecticons.

“She had help,” the femme, Ser-ket if Thundercracker’s memory served him, said. 

“Help?” Thundercracker asked. “But the alarms did not go off until she was out of her containment cell.”

“Clearly that means someone inside helped her, you imbecile,” Ser-ket spat viciously, tail swishing as she spun and towered over him. “You are lucky I know where you were or I would assume you’d gotten bold and had done so yourself.” She spun back around and sauntered away. “Too bad you weren’t faster. Maybe if you had proven yourself useful, Shockwave would’ve rewarded you with a glorious form like mine.”

Thundercracker and Skywarp shared a disgusted look behind her back. They decided to be safe and not point out the fact she hadn’t been fast enough to prevent the escape either.

“In any case,” Ser-ket said. “Shockwave’s not going to be happy about this when he returns and we better have some answers when he does. Check on the survivors, see what they know.”

“What about you?” Skywarp asked, annoyed to be commanded around like some underling by one of Shockwave’s pets.

“I’m going to check the security footage, see what it reveals,” Ser-ket said and then walked away.

Of course, Thundercracker thought in annoyance. Ser-ket would take the easy job that was all-but guaranteed results in order to look her best to her wonderful master who bestowed upon such a wonderful gift. Well, she could have Shockwave’s favor. Thundercracker didn’t care for it and he certainly didn’t want to be turned into some experiment.

“Come on, I’m sure they need medical care,” Thundercracker said to his fuming brother, nudging the slightly smaller seeker on the shoulder a smidge to get him moving. 

“Yeah, yeah,” Skywarp said, clearly annoyed. He followed Thundercraker anyways, though.

Despite their annoyance, neither seeker found it within themselves to be overly concerned about the days events as they tended to wounds and spoke with the not-quite fallen. As far as they were concerned, a prisoner escaping Shockwave was a good thing. So long as that prisoner still had their mind about them, at least.

“Where are we going?” I asked the bot I was lagging behind as we walked through some sort of tunnel. It was hard to keep up between his massive size compared to mine and the fact I was limping and every movement felt like pain. Nothing entirely unfamiliar to me even before all of this.

“Some place familiar,” the mech replied as he sorted through a box he had pulled out of seemingly nowhere. He pulled a cube of glowing purple and blue liquid out and paused long enough to pass it down to me. “Here, drink this, it will help build what Shockwave could not account for in his conversions.”

I made a face at it, not taking it. “What is it? How am I supposed to know I can trust you?” I asked.

“Strange thing to ask a mech who just rescued you from the ones who were torturing and experimenting on you,” the mech said, though he sounded more amused than offended.

“Can you blame me for being wary?” I asked. “I was snatched from a burning building by a bot who then stripped me of my humanity and, thus, everything I’ve ever known and loved. How can I not be cautious of anyone after that? You haven’t even told me your name. Or where you are taking me.”

“All fair points,” the mech said. He turned, putting the box away except for the cube he had offered me and then knelt down so we were closer to eye level. “My name is Vector Prime.”

I felt the appendages on my back shift, the ends of what could possibly some kind of metal feathers splaying a little, before settling again as I stared at him from behind my visor. I recognized that name as well as I had recognized Shockwave when I had first laid eyes on the mech that had snatched me.

“Why would the Guardian of Space and Time bother rescuing me?” I asked him, not sure how to process this information.

Vector merely smiled gently. There was something almost wistful and forlorn in his optics. Regret was swimming in them for a moment before it disappeared and he shook his helm. “You will know in due time, Little Wing.”

I just gave him a disgruntled look. “I’m not a little kid you’re talking to about an inappropriate subject,” I told him dryly.

Vector chuckled at that and my appendages—I was fairly sure they were wings of some kind—twitched in annoyance that it seemed like he wasn’t taking me seriously. “Perhaps not,” he conceded. “But I’m still not going to tell you yet.”

I huffed a little bit. “Whatever.” I said as we started moving again. “And the drink?”

“Energon,” Vector replied. “Mixed with some nanobots from my systems and minerals needed for your system to recover. They will not do the full job, but they will go a long way into helping you get healthy. As it is your frame is very fragile and missing a lot of key minerals. This will give your system a boost in starting to be able to create what it’s missing.”

“And what then?” I asked, taking the cube when he passed it to me this time.

“And then I take you to bots who can help you,” Vector replied. “And who, I believe, you will be able to help as well.”

“Hmm,” I hummed, looking at him in suspicion. “And why not continue to help me yourself?”

Vector sighed lowering his helm slightly before looking back at me. “I’m no medic, Little Wing,” he said. “You need a medic to get you to proper health.”

“Very well,” I said and then downed half of the cube in one go. “Where am I going?”

“A place where you’re familiar with,” Vector replied as we stepped into a large room with many different doorways, each marked with different Cybertronian symbols. 

As I looked around, I recognized a few of the symbols from when I somewhat taught myself how to write in English with the characters, but I didn’t know enough to know what any of them said. I focused instead on taking in the layout and the architecture of the room. The ceiling, if it even really was ceiling, was an endless scroll of space and between the doorways were flashes of different images going by too fast for me to decipher at the moment. Perhaps I could’ve deciphered them at a time I wasn’t in the middle of survival mode, but I doubted I would ever be back here. 

“Earth,” Vector said as we came to a stop one of the doorways.

I looked at him and then stared at the doorway as the symbols around it began to glow.

“Not yours, of course,” Vector went on. “I’m sure you understand why you can’t return to the Earth you came from.”

“No Autobots?” I asked. “Transformers really isn’t real in the universe I grew up in.”

“Indeed,” Vector confirmed.

Well darn, I thought to myself and then focused on downing the rest of the cube he’d given me to distract my mind from going down a rabbit hole before it was safe to do so. Get to where I’m going first. Emotions later, when I’m somewhere safe to recover. That’s how I survived all my near death experiences where I had any modicum of control in it.

“I will see you again, Little Wing,” Vector said as I passed him the empty cube. He stopped me before I turned to go and then passed me a smaller box than the one he’d pulled out earlier. “This has a few more doses of what I just gave you. Take one a day until it runs out on top of what the medic will provide and you will be in top shape in no time.”

“Ok,” I said. “You’ll understand if I run that through the medic.”

“Naturally.” Vector said.

I paused. “...How do I…?”

Vector chuckled lightly and then walked me through how to put things into my subspace and remove them from it as well. He had me do so a few times until he was sure I’d remember.

“Oh, and one more thing,” Vector said. He reached over and put his hand on the back of my neck. He dug his fingers in.

“Acchhssss,” I hissed in pain and started to flinch and move away, but his other hand came and held me in place.

“There,” Vector said as he pulled his hands away.

“A little warning, my god, geezus on a cheesestick,” I said, rubbing the back of my neck where it was clear he’d pulled something from.

“My apologies,” Vector said. “But we can’t have Shockwave tracking you to the Autobot base after the trouble I went through to get you out.” He showed me a tiny little chip between his fingers. 

“Yeah, well, next time, you ought to be more gentle, or give warning at least,” I reprimanded him. If he hadn’t been a literal giant compared to me and a literal Prime I might’ve stomped on his foot had I any less self control in that moment. “That hurt like hell.”

“My apologies,” Vector said. “I tried to avoid your nerve wires, but my fingers aren’t exactly small.”

“Fair, but still,” I said. “Geezus. I’m going now.” I started walking toward the open portal.

“Goodbye, Little Wing,” Vector said.

Despite my annoyance with the mech for small things, and especially that last thing, I gave him a wave. He had saved me, after all. That was something that warranted gratitude. 

“Thanks for the rescue, see you whenever,” I said. I turned just before the portal and gave him a dramatic bow before stepping backwards into the portal.

Chapter Text

Chapter 1: The Encounter

Each step I took, took me closer to the end of the portal Vector Prime had sent me through, and I was not quite sure what to expect. There were a great number of universes in which the Autobots had a base on Earth and a number of different locations for Autobot bases. Also, he didn’t tell me anything about how close to the base he was sending me. I imagined right inside would be problematic, even in my clearly not healthy state. Heck, even as it was, how was I supposed to convince the bots I wasn’t a threat?

My wings twitched. I wondered if in any of Shockwave’s experiments if he’d realized he’d nabbed a human from a world where this was all tv shows, comics and games. Had he seen any of the information in my head? How open should I be about the fact I knew things? How much worry should exist?

“If there’s even a modicum of risk, I should probably tell them,” I muttered to myself before taking my last step out of the portal. I blink at the rock wall before me. I heard the portal close behind me and turned around to see a large entrance to a cave.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I said, greatly annoyed. “I’m in pain, I’m fragile by your own words, I’m limping! And you just drop me off where I gotta walk through a cave?! What if I just…sit here and wait to be found?”

The sound of a jet flying overhead startled me and my wings splayed out further than they had so far before wrapping around me instinctively as if as a shield and I involuntarily squawked before covering my mouth, feeling embarrassed despite the lack of anyone to witness the unusual noise. It vaguely made me think of an owl…or at least some kind of bird. My wings certainly looked bird-like now that I had a look at part of them.

“Ooooo,” I said nervously as I listened to the jet continue on its way. At least, I hoped it was continuing on its way and not just silencing its engine. 

Without considering much more, I hobbled in the direction of the cave behind me. Surely, there had to be a reason Vector dropped me off at a cave and not, I dunno, in a jungle or literally at the Autobot’s doorstep, right? Or, well, this could be the Autobot’s doorstep for all I knew, actually. I took a deep breath as I hobbled through the entrance and into the dim light of the inside of the cave.

“Ok,” I said. “I can do this. Would be a lot easier if there was more light further in, but I can do this.”

I fiddled with my visor for a moment and found it had a flashlight attached to it. I let out some air in relief that I wouldn’t end up in total darkness if I kept going. As I made my way into the cave, I used the wall to help support myself. I had a hard time with quiet, though, so I muttered to myself about wishing I had something for music or someone to talk with before quietly singing to myself.

“Oh-” I said suddenly, cutting my own singing off as I came across something that startled me. Cybertronian writing on the cave wall. I moved closer to wear I spied it and looked around to see how much of the wall it spanned. That’s when I realized it was next to a doorway.

“Um,” I said to myself, trying to mentally access a camera function or something and then found one. I took pictures of the wall to go over the script later with someone who knew the Cybertronian language, spoken and written, a lot better than I did. Especially given my knowledge was based on the work of fans and not something official, I had no way to know if what I remembered was even accurate.

Once the pictures were taken, I moved toward the door before a stern, loud voice stopped me in my tracks. My wings hunched over, spreading a bit to protect my back from attack and I tried not to hiss in pain as my metallic muscles tensed painfully. I didn’t know what they said, but the tone was serious enough to stop me in my tracks. They said something else and I shivered, closing my optics for a moment. 

If it was the ‘Cons they’d probably have jumped on me already, I told myself. I released a large gust of air before finally responding. “I don’t know what you’re saying,” I told them.

They made a noise that sounded like surprise. “My apologies,” the voice said and I recognized it as being more feminine than Vector’s voice had been. “Most bots know Cy-Stan.”

Still shaking, I turned cautiously to face who I was speaking to. “There’s no way you could’ve known,” I told her as my flashlight revealed her to me. It was indeed a femme. Blue armor with some pink. Her optics, which had adjusted to the light of my flashlight, were blue, but even from this distance I could see hints of violet. “Apologies are unnecessary. At least you didn’t shoot me first, ask questions later.”

.:We got a bogey,:. Cliffjumper said over the intercom to Arcee as she was driving down one of the many desert roads of Nevada.

.:I’m picking it up, too,:. Arcee replied. .:Can’t tell if it’s ‘Con or not. I’m gonna check it out, since I’m closer.:.

.:Need backup?:. Cliffjumper asked. 

.:Naw, it’s just one signal, it should be fine,:. Arcee replied, not feeling worried.

.: Gotcha.:. Cliffjumper replied easily . .:You think it might be a neutral? Or a fellow bot? We haven’t added to our team in ages!:.

Arcee internally rolled her optics at her partner as he prattled on over the intercom while she drove closer to where their systems had pinged a signal from. She replied every now and then as she had a quip or sarcastic remark to make to something he said.

.:I’m coming up to the location,:. Arcee told him as she drove up to a cliff off the side of the road.

.:Roger that, I’m not terribly far away if you change your mind on that backup,:. Cliffjumper replied.

The comm went relatively silent as Arcee transformed and looked down the cliff at the small clearing beneath. She looked around for signs of anyone climbing out before jumping down. She immediately saw that she was in the right spot from the way the sand was disturbed. 

.:No signs of a fight, but someone was here,:. Arcee said. .: Sand’s disturbed, there’s a cave. Safe bet they went into it.:.

.:Ah caves, brings me back to the time…:. Cliffjumper started on about a time on Cybertron during the war where his group got ambushed by some ‘Cons.

Arcee didn’t quite chuckle, but she did smile. There had been a time where her partner’s constant chatter had only annoyed and frustrated her. Now it was hard to imagine life without it. She actually appreciated it as she made her way through the darkness of the cave, lit only by the lights from her wrist lights. 

It was about ten minutes in that she found what had likely caused the ping on their radars. A bot. Or a creature? It was hard to tell from this angle. All Arcee could see was what appeared to be a bot sized being with a large set of wings behind obscuring what little of their frame her lights caught initially. Either way, it was clearly of Cybertronian nature.

“Hey! Stop right there!” she called out in Cy-stan as the being moved, aiming not only her flashlights fully onto the being, but her weapons as well. 

The being’s wings flared, revealing how massive they were to cover the majority of the bot’s frame, leaving only their pedes visible just beneath what one could describe as tail feathers that shielded most of her legs. They also seemed to hunch a little—a protective maneuver, not a threatening one. At least that’s how Arcee was reading it when she saw the way the bot’s frame was shaking like a leaf in the wind.

“Easy there, I need you to turn around so I can see you,” Arcee said.

Arcee could visibly see the bot release air, releasing some of the tension in their frame. 

“I don’t know what you’re saying,” the bots said in English, voice having a strong feminine tone to it.

“Huh,” Arcee couldn’t help the small sound of surprise. Of all the things she might’ve expected, it certainly wasn’t a bot that couldn’t understand Cy-stan, but knew English. “My apologies,” she said more gently than she had been speaking. “Most bots know Cy-Stan."

Still shaking, the bot turned and Arcee finally got a better look at who she was talking to. It was definitely a femme bot and Arcee could tell from the care taken in turning around that the femme was injured. There was a limp as she shuffled her pedes to completely face her and one of her wings didn’t quite fold up like the other, along with a tail feather that didn’t shift to create the pieces of what seemed almost like just decoration over her thigh armor with the others—a spark actually came from that one’s connection point. Arcee’s flashlight glinted off purple and silver armor that could clearly use a good polish.

“There’s no way you could’ve known,” the femme said, tone holding no malice as she looked back at her from behind a glowing orange visor. “Apologies are unnecessary. At least you didn’t shoot me first, ask questions later.”

“It remains to be seen if I will,” Arcee said guardedly, though she was already fairly sure she wouldn’t. The femme had not stopped shaking and Arcee was wondering how much of it was fear and how much might be pain. “Who are you? Why are you on Earth?”

“Fair questions,” the femme said. Then she flinched and held her side for a moment. “Sorry, give me a moment.” She leaned heavily against the wall and gusted air through her systems, confirming Arcee’s suspicions that she was hurt.

Arcee lowered her weapons, but didn’t put them away yet. It could be a trick, though she doubted it.

“You can call me Shadebreaker,” the femme said after a moment, still leaning against the wall. “As for why I’m on Earth…” She shifted her pedes a little, movements careful. “Well, honestly, on the run from the ‘Cons. Seeking somewhere safe to heal…then I was thinking of joining the Autobots so I could contribute to stopping them from hurting others.”

Arcee raised an optic ridge at that and her guard went back up. A bot who didn’t know Cy-Stan, but knew of the war and was actively escaping the Decepticons? “Arcee.” she introduced herself. “On the run, huh? I thought you seemed hurt. Any chance they’re tracking you?”

“I don’t think so,” Shadebreaker said. “Someone helped me escape and they destroyed the tracking device placed on me before sending me here. He thought some bots here on Earth would be of better help to me than he would. And thought I’d be of help to them. I was assuming he was talking about the Autobots, though now that I think about it, he could’ve been talking about anyone. He was not really a straight forward mech.” She looked a little perplexed.

“How do I know this isn’t some kind of trick?” Arcee asked, lifting her weapons again. “How do I know the moment I take you to base that you won’t reveal our location to the ‘Cons?”

“I have nothing but my word to give,” Shadebreaker replied, lowering her helm and splaying her hands in front of her, palms up in offering. “I understand if that is not good enough for you. I will find a way to survive either way.”

Arcee was torn. This could still be a trick, but at the same time something in her spark was telling her it wasn’t. Shadebreaker was sitting here, completely vulnerable, not even trying to defend herself. She even admitted that she couldn’t prove her word instead of pleading or using emotional manipulation to ensure a positive outcome for herself like most Decepticons would. It would be simple to just shoot her and not take the risk, but that’s not what an Autobot should do. If Optimus was here, Arcee knew what he would do.

“Alright,” Arcee said, lowering her weapons again, putting them completely away this time. “I’ll bring you back to base with me. And then we-”

“Well, well, what do we have here,” a voice said just as Acree was about to move toward Shadebreaker so she could assist her after calling for a bridge.

Arcee jumped and spun, whipping her pistols back out in less than a second as she put herself between the voice and Shadebreaker. She glanced briefly at the femme to see she had shrunken against the wall and despite the visor hiding her optics, Arcee could see the fear on her face.

“Not a fellow ‘Bot, I take it?” Shadebreaker asked with a shaky voice.

“Definitely not,” Arcee said as a mech stepped into the light of their flashlights.

The mech wasn’t one that Arcee recognized in particular. They were brute-ish and built very much like many of the brute foot soldiers she’d fought during the height of the war.

“A couple lone femmes, boss,” a smaller mech spoke as he entered the light, cackling. This mech had a lithe frame clearly meant more for agility than brute strength. “And- And h-hey, doesn’t that one look like the files about Shockwave’s ex-experiments?!”

Arcee couldn’t help the surprise on her face at those words and she heard Shadebreaker whimper a little, heard her armor shifting from how much she shook at the name drop of the Decepticon scientist.

“Oh yeah,” the brute. “Little birdy must’ve escaped her cage. Well, you know how Shockwave feels about escaped experiments. They gotta be caged up or put down!” He removed a giant hammer from subspace and slammed it into his fist.

“Hey!” Arcee called to the femme, hoping she wasn’t so far in panic as to not hear her. “If you got any weapons, now’s the time to use them!”

“I-” Shadebreaker started, but was cut off as the Decepticons charged them.

Arcee was immediately occupied by the brute while the little one made for Shadebreaker. Cursing, cause even if Shadebreaker was armed, she wasn’t in any condition to fight, Arcee tried to knock the brute away, but the brute was bearing down with too much force against her arm blades she’d had to deploy to defend against his hammer.

.: Arcee to Cliff!:. Arcee sent over the inter comm. .:About that backup…:.

.:I picked them up just now, I’m on my way,:. Cliffjumper replied before she’d even finished talking.

.:We got a vulnerable femme here they’re after cause she escaped Shockwave,:. Arcee informed. 

.:Gotcha,:. Cliffjumper replied and Arcee could hear the determination to get here in time enter his tone.

An owl-like squawk called Arcee’s attention briefly toward Shadebreaker, but she couldn’t quite tell much beyond the fact Shadebreaker was now on a pillar looking down at the small mech, who was pulling his sword out from the pillar.

“Where’s your attention, Autobot?” the brute spat, sounding gleeful at the fact he and his partner seemed to have the advantage. 

Arcee gave a harsh shove against the Brute and managed to dislodge him long enough to slip out from under him. She curled her body up tight and then delivered a kick right to his jaw before he had a chance to change position or defend himself.

“Omph,” the brute grunted as he stumbled up and backward a bit. He wiped his chin when he recovered, catching her followed up kick with one hand. “Feisty.”

Arcee growl and pointed one of her pistols straight at his face. Before she could get the shot off, however, he yanked her leg to the side and then flung her away. She hit the side of the cave with such force that her optics glitched out on impact. They continued to flicker on and off as she slid to the ground. There was just enough light for Arcee to make out the brute making his way to where Shadebreaker was still just barely avoiding being skewered by his friend. 

Arcee saw Shadebreaker managed to trip the small mech, causing him to hit the wall behind her face first just before the brute made it to her and grabbed her by the throat.

“I think birdy has had her fun,” the brute said. 

Arcee grunted, forcing her frame to start getting up despite the warnings about her balancing system being off and her optics still glitching from the impact against the wall. 

A strangled noise came from Shadebreaker, one filled with pain and fear as the brute lifted her up high above his helm.

“Cowabunga!” Cliffjumper’s voice suddenly filled the space and the red mech crashed into the brute.

Shadebreaker fell to the ground with a cry as Acree began to get her footing back and Cliffjumper beat on the brute’s face.

What happened next happened almost too fast for Acree’s processor to comprehend. One minute Cliffjumper had the upperhand and then suddenly the small mech was right behind him. Arcee heard her own voice call out, and saw, as if in slow motion the small mech’s sword go straight through Cliffjumper’s spark, even as Shadebreaker leapt toward the tussle.

Hardly even a moment had passed after Cliffjumper been stabbed when Shadebreaker was tackling the small mech, the two of them going rolling away from the scene Arcee’s optics were fixed on. Arcee rushed toward him as quickly as possible as she watched as what happened registered and he turned toward her, flashing her one last smile before falling over sideway, optics going dark.

“Cliff!” Arcee cried as she finally made it to his side. She rolled him over so she could see his face. “Cliff…no, come on, Cliff.” 

She realized suddenly it had gone quiet and looked immediately to determine where the others were. She saw the small mech first, on the ground, energon pulling around him. Then she saw Shadebreaker, standing there. Clearly injured, but alive, and staring at the scene of her next to her deathly injured friend. Then, movement caught both their attention and Arcee shot the brute in the face with barely a glance at him.

Shadebreaker carefully and slowly made her way to Arcee’s side. “We need to go before anymore show up,” she said and Arcee thought her voice sounded just as empty as she felt. “Perhaps your medic can still do something?”

Arcee ducked her helm. “Perhaps,” she said. She knew better though. She knew the death of a bond when she felt it. Cliff was gone. That sword had pierced right through the spark.

.:Arcee to base, we need a ground bridge,:. Arcee sent over the comm channel. .: And prepare medbay. We got injuries. I need some help getting Cliff home.:.

.:Copy that, I’ll come through to help,:. Ratchet’s was the voice that replied.

.:We have a newbie coming in, too,:. Arcee thought it best to let him know. .:In much need of your attention as well.:.

.:Understood.:. Ratchet replied.

“Ratchet’s going to open a ground bridge and come help us get Cliff home,” Arcee told Shadebreaker, mostly so she wouldn’t be startled by the opening of a ground bridge nearby. If the femme didn’t even know Cy-Stan, it was impossible to know just how much would be new to her. Who knows what Shockwave had done to her, after all.

Shadebreaker merely nodded, seeming to be fixated on Cliffjumper’s face and the sword sticking out of his chest. She flinched slightly at the sound of a ground bridge, but barely seemed to notice Ratchet coming through and then running to their side.

“By Primus,” Ratchet said, kneeling by Cliffjumper’s side. “What happened here?”

“I’ll give you the play-by-play later,” Arcee said, knowing her voice probably sounded as empty as Shadebreaker’s had. She motioned with her helm toward the femme.

Ratchet looked up at the femme, who was dripping energon from one of her arms now and holding what looked like a feather from one of her wings loosely in her hand, energon dripping down the entire length of it. Her previously fine wing was being held at an even odder angle than the one Arcee had already identified as being injured. Even with the visor, she looked downright traumatized.

“Right,” he said. “Let’s get you lot home.”

Ratchet carefully removed the sword from Cliffjumper’s chest. While he did so, Shadebreaker made a small motion like she wanted to stop him—you weren’t supposed to remove such objects in the field unless you could immediately stop the bleeding and repair enough damage to keep them stable and anyone with any medical experience knew that. But she stopped as she must’ve realized what it meant that he, as a medic, was doing so without then going through and patching in the field, without more energon spilling out.

As Ratchet hoisted Cliffjumper’s corpse into his arms, Arcee moved to Shadebreaker’s side as she saw a shudder run through her frame.  “Come on,” she said, lightly touching the other femme’s elbow. “We gotta go now.”

“Yeah,” Shadebreaker said, voice so quiet Arcee almost thought she had heard things.

Shadebreaker limped along with Arcee helping her stay on her pedes as needed, Ratchet right behind them. Shadebreaker almost collapsed about halfway through the ground bridge, but Arcee was able to catch her, which was when she noticed she was crying. She was silent, but streams of tears were rolling down her face from behind her visor. Arcee could hardly blame her. It sounded like she’d just gotten out of a traumatic situation only to watch a bot be killed before her optics. She would probably be crying later herself, behind closed doors.

At least Cliff’s killer was dead.

Once back at base, Arcee started guiding Shadebreaker toward medbay, pausing only to make sure Ratchet had made it all the way through before turning the ground bridge off. Once at medbay, she helped settle Shadebreaker onto a berth and then glanced at where Ratchet was settling Cliffjumper’s body onto another. She hesitated.

I watched as Arcee hesitated as Ratchet was settling her partner on the bed a few feet away from where she’d sat me. Then I took a deep breath and prepared myself for the next bit of my day, whatever that entailed. Likely medical stuff. Which may or may not trigger PTSD symptoms because of the experiments and all that.

“You can go to him if you want,” I said quietly, lifting my hand she was holding slightly to make sure she was paying attention to hear. 

“Are you sure?” Arcee asked, sounding like she’d stay for me.

I nodded. “I’ll be ok,” I told her. “And if I’m not, it’s not like you’ll be a million miles away. It’s just a few feet.”

Arcee gave my hand a reassuring squeeze and patted my shoulder before leaving my side, passing Ratchet as he approached. I watched Ratchet stop her with a hand on her shoulder and say a quiet word to her I couldn’t hear. After a very brief exchange, Ratchet approached me.

“My name’s Ratchet,” he introduced himself. “I’ll be your medic while you are here with us.”

“Shadebreaker,” I replied, motioning to myself.

“And what’s your story?” Ratchet asked as he took my bleeding arm into his hands and began cleaning the wound.

I flinched. “It might be a hard one to believe,” I said quietly.

“Trust me,” Arcee said from where she stood not far from us by Cliffjumper’s side. “If it has to do with Shockwave there’s not much we won’t believe.”

Ratchet paused to look at her and then looked back at me with surprisingly wide optics.

I nodded silently. “He apparently decided he was god and had the right to kidnap a human and turn them…” I looked down at myself and then back up and motioned to myself with my free hand. “Into this.”

“You- what-?” Ratchet asked, his work freezing for a moment.

My wings shifted and I squirmed a little bit, causing me to flinch in pain. “Ow, hm, you wouldn’t happen to have pain killers, would you?” I asked through the pain. “I have been at an alarmingly high level of pain since…well…since….”

“I can’t say for certain if they will work if what you say is true, but yes,” Ratchet said as he carefully bandaged my arm. “You will not be leaving this medbay for a while, I hope you know.”

“I suspected as much,” I replied, flinching again as Ratchet manipulated my arm. “Ow. I can tell you’re trying to be gentle, but that really hurts.”

“I can only imagine,” Ratchet said, tone gentle. “I’m being as gentle as I can be.”

“Who was the mech who helped you escape?” Arcee asked.

My wings shifted slightly. “Well, he said his name was Vector Prime,” I replied. “But I remain skeptical of anyone I barely knew for twenty minutes. The best I can vouch for is he did have these giant portal doors which are how he sent me here to Earth and the stuff he had me drink has not seemed to poison or kill me, so there’s that. And, I mean, rescuing me from Shockwave is some kind of point in the ‘maybe I can trust you’ category.”

I stopped talking and realized both of the bots were staring at me in pure disbelief. “What?”

“You mean to tell me,” Ratchet said, fixing the bandage on my arm so that it would stay in place. “That the Guardian of Time and Space took time out of his schedule to rescue you from Shockwave?”

“Yup,” I said. “And, yes, I was that incredulous too. But when I asked him why, he was just like ‘you’ll see in due time.’ I-” I cut off when I saw the needle Ratchet had pulled out of a drawer while I was talking. I froze, optics fixated on it and made a scared noise and pulled my pedes onto the bed with me.

“Easy, easy,” Ratchet said, making a placating motion with one hand while he hid the syringe behind his back. “It’s just the pain meds you requested.”

My wings shifted upward a little, hunching like they had when Arcee had startled me in the cave. I was now holding the edge of the bed like it was my lifeline. “I might know that in my head Ratchet, but for the past few years, needles have been nothing but pain and torture, so there’s gonna be a resurface of my old needle fear…it’s probably worse than ever, actually, given I’ve never felt the need to flee before by simply seeing one.”

“And that’s perfectly understandable,” Ratchet said, taking a slow step back toward me.

I made a disgruntled owl-like noise and pulled myself further onto the bed as if preparing myself for a launch. My instincts were telling me to transform and fly away, but whatever system would respond to a desire to transform seemed to be down at the moment. That or really slow. AoL wants you to hang up the phone slow.

Ratchet glanced at Arcee and made a very subtle motion and I saw her move in the peripheral of my field of vision. I shifted again, seeing he sent her to cut me off in the event I made a break for it.

“You realize, if you tackle me, trust is gonna be harder to build,” I told him as he slowly moved closer.

“We won’t have to if you don’t run,” Ratchet said, pausing in his movements and holding up a hand toward Arcee and I suddenly realized she was behind me. “You need care.”

“I understand that,” I replied, watching him. “But fear is still real and I have some instincts I’m not familiar with so I’m processing on the go how I’m supposed to cope with the level of fear and the urge to transform and fly away that is screaming in my mind right now. And moving has always been how I cope with anxiety, so bigger movements are natural for me in this kind of scenario, I think. And that doesn’t even cover the fact it’s piled on the trauma and emotions I was already dealing with.”

“Would it help if I held your hand?” Arcee asked, coming up next to me.

My helm snapped to look at her in surprise at how close she suddenly was. My whole body tensed, but relaxed after a moment. “Maybe? There’s at least some level of trust I feel toward you. Not that there’s none toward Ratchet, but he is the one with the tools. And I’ve only known him for five, maybe ten minutes.”

Arcee chuckled a little bit at that. Then she reached over and took my hand. “I can assure you, you can trust Ratchet,” she said. “With your medical care at least.” She gave me a wink, clearly joking.

I could tell she was joking and trying to be lighthearted for my sake. I placed my free hand over top of hers and gave her a look of gratitude. She patted my hand with her free hand as Ratchet reapproached, giving me a strained smile before looking away.

I gusted air through my system, closing my optics so I wouldn’t see him move the needle toward me as he removed a piece of armor from my shoulder. He cleaned the sight and I almost wished doctors weren’t so methodical about cleanliness despite knowing the reason for it. Then he finally stuck me and I hissed, curling up and moving away as much as possible without interfering with the injection. I buried my face into Arcee’s shoulder as she rubbed my hand, crying.

Then things started feeling fuzzy. “Hey…that wasn’t just pain meds….” I said as I recognized the feelings. “Ya coulda told meh.” And then the world went black.

Chapter Text

Chapter 2: Troubling Thoughts

The memorial for Cliffjumper took place the following morning in a remote location the US government had provided the bots to bury their dead. Cliffjumper wasn't the first bot they'd had to bury while on Earth, his grave sitting in between two others—Huffer and Dion.

The team of five Autobots remaining on Earth—Optimus Prime, Arcee, Ratchet, Bumblebee and Bulkhead—stood around the graves in a half-circle, Cliffjumper's grave centered among them.

"We must not allow our anger over the loss of Cliffjumper to impair our judgment," Optimus said. "As of today, only we five Autobots remain on this Earth. We owe it to ourselves. To the memory of Cybertron. To any Autobots in any galaxy seeking safe harbor. To any neutrals like our guest seeking the same. To humankind."

Arcee stepped forward at that, kneeling in front of Cliffjumper's grave and setting a bouquet of gladiolus they'd been provided to honor her partner's strength and integrity. It would've been nice to have something more Cybertronian, but they made due with what they could on Earth.

"And we owe it to the memory of our fallen comrade," Optimus continued meaningfully. "To survive."

Arcee stood back up, frame tensing for a moment before she turned and walked away, bypassing the others entirely. Bumblebee whirled worriedly.

"Arcee," Optimus called.

"Cliff's gone," Arcee said, voice rather stern, as if she was the one calling the shots and not Optimus. "Standing around here sulking isn't going to bring him back. So unless anyone minds, think I'll get back to protecting humankind." With that, she transformed into her vehicle form and drove off into the desert.

Ratchet moved closer to Optimus as Bumblebee whirled worriedly again and Bulkhead placed a hand on the smaller mech's shoulder to comfort him.

"Optimus," Ratchet said to address him, watching Arcee go. "Helping humans is only going to result in more tragedy."

"Your opinion is noted," Optimus replied.

I groaned when I came to, feeling a stiffness in my entire body. The first thing I noticed was the fact I wasn't in as much pain as I had been in for a very long time. The next thing was the fact there was what appeared to be an IV attached to my arm. Followed by the fact my visor was gone. It also felt like my wings weren't squished behind me, but were hanging through a hole in the bed, yet my frame still felt properly supported.

"Fudge on a stick," I grumbled, rubbing my optics as I gusted air through my systems. I turned my helm after a moment, opening my optics to look around.

I saw my visor sitting on a counter across the room, some tools sitting next to it. Closer to me was the stand holding the container for the fluids being put into my system by the IV and a machine that was clearly monitoring my vitals. A small table sat next to the machine with what looked like a datapad or something on it. A glance around the rest of the room said that Ratchet wasn't in at the moment. It also revealed that Cliffjumper's body had been removed while I was out. I wondered how long that sedative had had me out for.

I shifted a little, testing if I could potentially sit up or not while I ran through the events before being knocked out by the sedative in my helm. I was definitely going to gripe at Ratchet about surprising me with the sedative. Had he talked about it with me, I would've been ok with it, but being sneaky like that was not appreciated. But the main thing my processor kept trying to go back to was Cliffjumper.

It seemed like I was in the same universe the TV series Prime took place, or a universe adjacent to it. Which meant I had already affected the events by my mere existence. When Cliffjumper had shown up on the scene my first thought had been "Oh, maybe I can prevent his death. Maybe I could-" and then my thoughts were cut off by him being literally stabbed in the spark. How did I even explain that to the bots? How did I explain the fact I had potential knowledge of events that might have no bearing at all, but could potentially prove dangerous if their base is the same as the show, cause there's a potential Shockwave got that information without my knowledge? And would they even believe me? And would Arcee forgive me if it seemed like his death was my fault? It felt like my fault.

I was pulled from my musings by the sound of the door opening. I lifted my helm a bit, having decided to not sit up just yet, to see who was coming in. Ratchet was coming in, followed by who could only be Optimus Prime. I started to shift to sit up.

"Up, up, up," Ratchet said, moving toward me immediately. "Don't you dare move from that position. Your frame is much too fragile for too much movement."

"Too fragile to sit up?" I asked dryly, raising an optic ridge doubtfully at that, but ceasing movement anyways.

"Who's the medic here?" Ratchet asked, taking out something from his subspace that looked like a scanner.

I just sighed and settled my frame again. "Ok, ok," I said. I turned my attention to Optimus as he approached my bed on the other side from Ratchet. "Hello. I see I'm meeting the big boss today." I half grinned up at him.

Optimus blinked. "My name is Optimus Prime, leader of the Autobots," he told me.

"And you will show him respect as long as you are here if you know what's good for you," Ratchet said grouchily.

I flinched slightly at his tone, pede twitching slightly. "I mean no disrespect, ever," I said, glancing back toward Ratchet. I looked back at Optimus. "I hope none was taken." My tone was hopeful, voice a bit small.

"None taken, my friend," Optimus replied.

I paused at that and couldn't stop myself from narrowing my optics at him. Him calling me "friend" warmed my spark, but it felt weird to be called that right off the bat. "Kinda soon to call me that, isn't it? We met, like, a minute ago."

"You will be here for some time," Optimus told me, resting a hand carefully on my arm. "It will be a lot easier for you to be our friend."

I chuckled a little bit at that. "I mean, you're not wrong," I said. "Forgive me if I don't immediately trust everyone. Life has taught me to be slow to trust."

"I understand, but know that you are safe here," Optimus told me.

"Luckily it appears you don't have any trackers on you, so the Decepticons shouldn't find you here," Ratchet said as he adjusted my IV.

I hesitated at that. "Err, about that," I said, pausing as Ratchet adjusted the bed I was on so I was sitting up, but still completely supported by the bed. "There's something I should talk to you about sooner than later. It's a potential problem."

Optimus blinked and looked me in the optic, as if searching for signs I had lied to Arcee or something.

"What kind of problem?" Ratchet asked.

"Well," I said. "Do you guys believe in parallel universes?"

"I have read theories, but no one's been able to prove anything," Ratchet replied, raising an optic ridge at that.

"Hm, well, you might as well believe, cause I'm from an alternate timeline," I replied. "One where Cybertronians are completely fictional beings part of several fictional universes created through tv shows, toy lines, comic books, novels and video games."

Ratchet stared at me. "You can't be telling the truth," he said. "First you used to be human. Then you were rescued by Vector Prime and now you're from an alternate reality where we're from works of fiction?! Preposterous!"

"Sounds it, I know," I said. "Believe me. If I had not spent the last few years in literal torture, I would not believe any of this is real either. I would be fully convinced this is some crazy dream and I'm gonna wake up with my fianceé at any time now. I would love nothing else than to have not spent the last few years going through a torturous change, escape it and then witness a bot get murdered while protecting me from a freakin' brute. You have any idea how traumatizing that is? To lose literally everything you've ever known in every sense of the word and then watch someone die in front of you? Why would I want that to happen and thus make it up?"

Ratchet was silenced by that and after a moment of staring at me in realization and a glance at Optimus, he sighed. "You're right," he said. "It's just so…"

"I'm aware how it sounds," I sighed. "But my point is, I don't know if Shockwave knew he was plucking a human from an alternate reality with some…rather sensitive knowledge. I don't know if he went through any of what I know or not, my knowledge of what exactly all he did isn't…completely clear. I don't know how much of my knowledge could actually end up useful, though there's a few pieces I think that aren't reliant upon prior events being consistent. My mere presence here has already had an effect on events, but there's at least one thing that poses an immediate risk if he plucked it out of my mind."

"What information is that?" Optimus asked.

I looked up at him and considered how to say it. "The location of the base, assuming it's a location of the Autobot base in any of the universes I have knowledge of," I replied. "And based on what I've seen, on your guys' appearances, the sounds of your voices, the bots I've seen so far and the," I glanced at the technology in the room, "technology, I'd hazard a guess we're in an old human military base located in a mountain in the outskirts of Jasper, Nevada."

Optimus and Ratchet shared a look and I knew I hit the nail on the head.

"Optimus," Ratchet said seriously.

Optimus nodded, then looked back at me. "Thank you for bringing this to my attention," he said, moving his hand to my shoulder. "I must go inform Agent Fowler immediately that our location may be compromised, but I will return to speak more to you later."

"Do what you need to do," I said. "That's why I wanted to share immediately and not put it off. I'd rather be thought crazy than have everybody at risk."

Optimus squeezed my shoulder a bit, just enough to reassure me without causing my fragile frame harm. Then he left without another word.

I sighed after he left. "God I hope I'm just being over cautious," I said.

"Better to be safe than sorry," Ratchet said and I heard him messing with something at the small table.

I didn't look, afraid he was preparing an injection of some kind and not wanting my fear to trigger any stronger than it already was. "You believe me?"

"I don't know how else to explain how you knew where the base is located," Ratchet said. "I know neither Arcee nor I told you. We came in through a Ground Bridge. And you haven't had a chance to snoop around. I'd have known if you'd have left that bed." I heard a clicking that reminded me of a nurse flicking a syringe to knock out air bubbles.

I chuckled, trying to focus on the conversation and not the medical stuff. "Fair," I said.

Ratchet moved closer and I focused on a spot on the ceiling as he injected something through the IV. "Out of curiosity, what event has already been changed by your presence?"

"Cliffjumper," I said quietly.

I heard Ratchet pause. "What do you mean?"

"The television show I know this reality, or maybe just one adjacent to this one, from?" I said, glancing at him briefly, only to look away immediately when I saw the syringe still in his hand. "He dies in it too, but in a completely different way. I don't know exactly how much sooner his death has happened, I don't have a clear reference point for where we are on that timeline cause it happens at the start of the show. I don't even know at this point if this timeline is going to be even remotely the same from here on out. I just know…he appeared, I thought 'Oh, maybe I can prevent his death. Maybe I could-' and then there was a sword in his spark and, yeah…" I trailed off, looking down now and wiping at some tears.

Ratchet was silent for a moment, but I could feel his optics at me and I turned my face further away, afraid of his judgment. Then his hand was laying gently on my arm. "It wasn't your fault," he said.

"But if I wasn't there he wouldn't have died then," I said. "If I had been faster to react to that 'Con suddenly being right behind him when seconds ago he had been knocked out behind me I could've saved him. I could've. I won that tussle. I don't know how. I don't know if it was adrenaline, luck or pure emotion or simply a matter of size difference, but that small mech was the one that died when I did fight him. If I had been faster or if I had fought instead of simply dodging him at the beginning, Cliffjumper would still be alive."

"You don't know that," Ratchet told me firmly. "And, besides, you were injured. It's a miracle you survived as it is. Your frame couldn't have moved any faster than you did, it wouldn't have been able to handle it. The fact you could move at all is rather impressive."

I scoffed a little at that. "My frame's in such bad condition and I get dropped off in the middle of freakin' nowhere," I said.

Ratchet huffed at that. "I have some words I could say about that Vector and his reckless disregard for life for that."

My wings twitched. "I'm glad I'm not the only one irritated at him," I said, a little quietly. "So many better choices could've been made and he was so not straight forward about a couple things. I don't know why he couldn't just tell me why he rescued me." I suddenly remembered the cubes. "Which reminds me…" I pulled the box of cubes he'd given me. "He gave me these, saying they'd help get me healthy, but I wanted to have you check them out. I drank one already, cause he gave it to me before sending me off and I haven't noticed anything bad from it, but I don't know that I'd notice past the vast array of…stuff going on with me."

Ratchet hummed, giving the box an interested, but suspicious look. "What did he say it was?"

"Energon mixed with his nanobots and minerals to help my frame create what it needs to get healthy," I replied. "He said to drink one cube a day until they're gone on top of whatever you have to provide me and I should be 'healthy in no time.'"

Ratchet scoffed a little at that. "Unless this is some miracle cure, that's probably an exaggeration," he said.

"I figure so as well," I said, not bothered by his doubt. It was the same doubt I felt, after all.

"Though if true, it could be a revolutionary formula," he said, lifting a cube and looking at it. "The purple is disconcerting."

"Reminds you of something, right?" I asked, wondering if he was thinking of the same thing I initially had.

Ratchet glanced at me. "You know what Dark Energon is?"

"Too well," I said, making a mental note about the fact Ratchet was familiar with Dark Energon, something the show had seemed wishy-washy on. "Not personally, but a book I read described it well enough. If that were to be in that, I definitely do not want to be drinking it."

Ratchet hummed in agreement and then returned the cube to the box and took the whole thing from my lap. "You're not touching this until I've had a chance to analyze it," he said.

"I appreciate it," I said, tone grateful.

Ratchet set the box on the counter across the room and then paused for a moment before picking up my visor and bringing it with him when he returned. He passed it to me. "This got damaged in your tussle, but I was able to repair it for you."

"Thank you very much," I said, accepting the visor readily. I hesitated just a moment before putting it back on my face. I felt just a touch less vulnerable with something covering my optics again. It was familiar. I let out a sigh of relief at it's replacement.

"You are welcome," Ratchet said, placing a hand on my shoulder. Then he shifted and took out a cube of pure blue energon from his subspace. "Now, you need substance and rest." He passed the cube to me. "Med-grade Energon, supplements for your health mixed in, no suspicious purple ooze."

I chuckled a bit at that as I accepted the cube from him with both hands. My hands shook as I held it and I was thankful when he used his own to steady my hands and help me drink it at a decent pace. He took the cube away once it was empty and then lowered the bed back to where I was laying flat once more.

"I don't suppose I could lay on my side?" I asked, knowing the answer was likely no.

"Not likely," Ratchet said dryly. "Give it some time before you can move much or risk any pressure on your wings. They got really banged up."

"Fun, fun," I said sarcastically, even as I was closing my optics. "Well, see you when I wake up again, I'm sure."

"We'll have lots of medical stuff to go over," Ratchet told me.

"Naturally," I said. "Though I could get distracted and go down a rabbit hole."

"Shadebreaker," Ratchet said sternly.

"Yes?"

"Go to sleep. Or I'll sedate you again."

"How rude."

A couple hours later, Ratchet was puzzling over the results of the tests he'd run on Shadebreaker's life-en after finding out she'd had an energon laced with Vector Prime's nanobots. He'd already run some tests prior, but that tidbit had prompted him to check something else. He needed to make sure her system wasn't rejecting the mech's nanobots after all.

It turned out he hadn't needed to be concerned about that. Not only was her system accepting the nanobots, it was behaving as if the nanobots were her own. But that wasn't the most puzzling part. The most puzzling was what that, combined with a comparison of them to her native nanobots, revealed about her.

"Hmm," Ratchet hummed in thought as he double-checked the results, again. He was so focused he didn't even notice the door to med-bay open until Optimus was laying a hand on his shoulder.

"Something troubling you, old friend?" Optimus asked.

"You mean besides the fact our location might be compromised by no fault of anyone?" Ratchet asked sarcastically. He glanced over to make sure Shadebreaker was still sleeping and hadn't heard him. He didn't need her hearing him and possibly blaming herself on another account that she shouldn't.

Optimus merely gave him his patented "I know there's more" look for a moment.

Ratchet sighed and then tapped the datapad with the back of his hand. "It's these test results, Optimus." he told him. "Shadebreaker revealed to me she'd be fed energon laced with Vector Prime's nanobots so I needed to check to make sure her system wasn't rejecting them."

Optimus nodded to show that he was listening.

"Not only is it not rejecting them, but it's treating them like they're its native nanobots," Ratchet said. "But that's not the weirdest part, Optimus. I ran further tests on her native nanobots to compare them to Vector's, cause most systems don't just treat transferred nanobots as if they're native without them being related." Ratchet paused to make sure Optimus was really listening. "Turns out, they are related, Optimus."

Optimus paused at that, surprise showing on his face. Then he shifted and held a hand out for the datapad, which was handed over readily.

"I don't know how it's possible," Ratchet said. "But somehow Shadebreaker is biologically related to Vector Prime. I don't know if Shockwave used his CNA to change her with or if some other foolery is going on, but we have a direct link to the Guardian of Space and Time among us now."

"Is it not possible that Vector Prime's nanobots affected the structure of her own?" Optimus asked, just to rule out that possibility.

"No, no," Ratchet said, shaking his helm and waving a hand in dismissal of that idea. "Nanobots don't work that way. If I donated my nanobots to you it would no more make us related than a regular old energon infusion. Nanobots don't interact together like that, they just serve as repair and immune systems. Shadebreaker was already related to him before the introduction of his nanobots."

Optimus looked over at the sleeping femme, who was likely unaware of this relation of hers to the old Prime that had rescued her. "Do you think Shockwave had access to Vector Prime's CNA?"

Ratchet gave an exaggerated shrug before accepting the datapad back when it was offered. "Who knows? But if she is related to Vector Prime, it might explain why he bothered to rescue her," he said. "Given that he's not been known to interfere in the realm of our affairs for a very, very long time."

"How close is the relationship?" Optimus asked.

"Very," Ratchet said. "If not a sister, then likely a daughter. It doesn't follow with her story of being a human prior, however. Do you think those are implanted memories? Or did she lie to us?"

Optimus shook his helm. "She has been entirely truthful far as I can say," he said, placing a hand over where the Matrix sat in his chest.

Ratchet nodded, understanding that meant the relic had given him some insight. "That leaves implanted memories or she really was human before," he said.

"I don't believe it was coincidence she knew our base location in such detail," Optimus said. "I do not believe Shockwave could've implanted that knowledge."

"But how does that work?" he wondered. "A sister or daughter of Vector Prime? Growing up human?"

"We've encountered stranger things, have we not, old friend?" Optimus asked, somewhat amused at Ratchet's incredulity.

Ratchet huffed a little, then looked toward Shadebreaker. "It's possible Vector told her, but then, why would the Matrix tell you she was being honest if she wasn't? It's never misled you before?" He looked back at his Prime, knowing the answer, but needing to hear it.

Optimus shook his helm. "You can't fool the Matrix," he said.

"Right," Ratchet said. He looked toward Shadebreaker again as the femme shifted in her sleep, one of her arms pulling up to drape across her chest and the other tucking her hand underneath her. "Assuming she's been truthful, I get the impression she's unaware of this relation. She says he dodged her questions why he bothered to rescue her. I don't get why he wouldn't tell her, though."

"The mind of a mech as old as Vector Prime is hard to know, old friend," Optimus said. "We could speculate, but we'll not know unless he deigns to come tell us."

Ratchet nodded in agreement, thinking in silence for a few minutes. "Do you think we should tell her?"

"What do you think?" Optimus asked, curious what he'd say.

"It'd be nice to have more information to give her," Ratchet sighed, turning back to the datapad. "All this tells us is that she's genetically related to him. It doesn't tell us how or why she was human, if it's prior to Shockwave's interference or because of it."

"We may never have those answers my friend," Optimus said. "But do you not think she ought to know? This could have an impact on her life if the wrong bot finds out. She should have the chance to choose how to prepare for that."

Ratchet sighed heavily. "You're right," he conceded. He tapped his finger on the back on the datapad for a moment, thinking. "How'd the conversation with Fowler go?"

Optimus sighed. "How you would expect."

Ratchet scoffed a little bit.

"He is going to talk to the higher ups about finding us a different base to move to," Optimus continued.

"Well that's a relief," Ratchet said, a heavy sigh in his voice.

"How soon will it be safe to move Shadebreaker?" Optimus asked, concerned that if they moved too soon it may hurt the femme's health.

"She's fragile, but I think we'll be able to move her via the Ground Bridge in a week," Ratchet said. "We'll need a stretcher, minimum. Ideally we'd have a rolling bed, but I doubt the humans will afford us that much."

"I will inform Agent Fowler of this need and timeframe," Optimus nodded. "With any luck, we'll be able to start moving supplies and equipment sooner than that and nothing will go wrong while we wait."

Ratchet nodded. "With any luck," he agreed.

Chapter Text

Chapter 3: The Trouble Begins

After Cliffjumper’s death, Arcee made a habit of patrolling Jasper alone quite often, keeping an optic open for Decepticon activity. Especially after Optimus had called a meeting and discussed the information Shadebreaker had shared with him with the team. She wasn’t entirely sure how to feel about it. She’d visited her once so far, but the femme seemed like she had a hard time talking to her. Arcee couldn’t entirely blame her for that. 

Between the likely survivor’s guilt and the trauma of what the femme had been through, it was no surprise. Even Bumblebee, the friendliest and easiest to like of the team, reported having a hard time getting her to talk a whole lot. She only seemed to talk with Optimus and Ratchet about her information and medical related stuff. Arcee was sure it’d be some time before she opened up to anyone about anything personal.

Arcee was pulled from her thoughts as her scanners picked a Decepticon signature. “Uh-oh,” she said, noting the location very close to the location of one of the humans Shadebreaker had said could potentially get caught up in things. “That’s not a good sign.”

.:Arcee to base,:. She commed base as she approached the burger joint and parked. .:Possible contact with one of the humans Shadebreaker mentioned happening. A couple of ‘Cons are lingering nearby Jack Darby’s place of work.:.

.:Copy that, Arcee,:. Optimus replied. .:Permission to do what you need to keep him safe. I’ve received reports from Bulkhead and Bumblebee about their human charges as well.:.

Already calling them our charges, huh? Arcee thought to herself as she identified the human teenager as he exited his place of work. .:What about his mom? Didn’t Shadebreaker say she eventually got involved, too?:.

.:Agent Fowler is on his way to collect her as we speak,:. Optimus replied as Jack noticed her and started fawning over her alt-form. .:If the ‘Cons have already identified them as our allies, their safety is more important than keeping our existence a secret from them.:.

.:Doesn’t this mean our base is most likely compromised? They aren’t going to be any safer with us until we move,:. Arcee replied as she watched the ‘Cons closely in her rearview mirrors.

.:We will discuss that once everyone is back at base,:. Optimus replied.

.:Gotcha,:. Arcee said, just as the headlights from the ‘Cons shone upon them, causing Jack to block the light from his eyes.

“Scrap,” Arcee let out outloud, unintentionally revealing to Jack she was sentient not quite as she’d intended. 

“Wha-?” Jack didn’t get his full question out before he suddenly had to hang onto to the motorcycle for his life as Acree pulled away at high speeds, dodging between the two vehicons. “Whooooaaa!”

“Hang on!” Arcee told him as she popped a wheelie and hopped over the curb to exit the parking lot and hit the road, the vehicons directly on their tails.

“Who are those guys?!” Jack asked as they dodged through traffic in hopes of losing the two.

“Decepticons,” Arcee replied.

“Why are they after us?” Jack asked.

“Because I’m an Autobot and they think you’re with me,” Arcee replied honestly.

“Decepticon, Autobot, are those words supposed to mean something to me?” Jack asked, voice full of panic as he looked back at them, only to duck to avoid a blaster shot.

“Scrap,” Arcee cursed again and then made a hard turn down an alleyway, using some debris to jump over a dumpster blocking it, turning just right at the top to dislodge the debris so the vehicons wouldn’t have a ramp to follow.

“Why do they think I’m with you?!” Jack asked.

“They saw you with me, that’s all the confirmation they needed,” Arcee said, realizing that herself at that moment. She wondered if by following Shadebreaker’s information if it had become a self-fulfilling prophecy. It didn’t matter if it was, though. The Decepticons would’ve acted on it with or without the confirmation. They gave little thought to killing innocent lives.

“But I didn’t know!” Jack protested. Then he yelled as she made another hard turn as a vehicons cut her off at the end of the next alleyway she’d cut through in hopes to completely lose them.

“Damn it,” Arcee growled. “They don’t give up. Hang on, we’re taking this out of town.”

“Great,” Jack said. “Just how I wanted to spend my Friday, running from deranged self-driving vehicles.”

“You have no idea, kid,” Arcee said as she pulled onto the highway.

The vehicons were hot on their tails, driving around traffic like pros until they were the only vehicles left on the highway for miles. Arcee swerved, hitting her brakes and sliding toward the side of the road and stopping near a boulder outcropping.

“Get off and stay down while I handle these goons,” she ordered.

Jack obeyed, looking too terrified to do anything else. Once Arcee was sure he was going into his hiding place, Arcee moved away a bit and then transformed into her bipedal mode. The vehicons stopped a few feet in front of her, sitting in vehicle mode for a moment. She got into a battle ready position and then made a “come on” motion with her hand.

They transformed, pointing their blasters at her. They took some shots, but she was easily able to dodge them, firing off her own. She missed a few, but she caught one on the shoulder as she charged at them. She deployed her arm blades and sliced the barrel of that one’s pistol and then kneed him in the chin. His partner went to grab him, but was suddenly knocked over by a yellow muscle car with black racing stripes ramming into him.

“‘Bee!” Arcee called, glad to see her friend.

Bumblebee whirled, skidding to a stop not far away. He transformed, holding a small human in his hands that he set on the ground and nudged toward the same outcropping Arcee had told Jack to hide in, whirling to him. Then Bumblebee joined the fight with the vehicons, charging in and punching one of them in the face before it could get a shot off on Arcee.

Arcee was locked in a melee battle with the one whose pistol she’d sliced. She knocked away a punch and then jumped up to kick off his chest, flipping in the air, pulling her own pistols out to double tap him in the chest. The vehicon stumbled back, but didn’t quite go down yet. She didn’t let him get a chance to recover, taking a shot at his helm, hitting the target easily.

Once that vehicon was down, she turned to check on Bumblebee, see him standing over the Decepticon, a fresh hole smoking from the mech’s spark chamber.

“Thanks for the assist, ‘Bee,” Arcee said as she walked back toward him, aiming for the outcropping where their human charges were hiding.

Bumblebee whirled in response, walking with her toward the outcropping.

They gathered their human charges from outcropping, relieved they had stayed there as they had been ordered and not run off. Both were clearly a little shaken and had questions, but after Arcee promised they would get answers at base, they agreed to go with them without much more fuss. 

They called for a bridge, just in case there were ‘Cons lingering around to catch them going into their base. They didn’t need the ‘Cons finding their base any faster if they hadn’t found that information among what they had pulled from Shadebreaker already. They had no way of knowing how much of her information they had pulled from her or how they were sorting through it. The more precautions they took, the better, which meant they had entirely axed entering and exiting the base by manual means. Even Agent Fowler had agreed not to use the helicopter pad anymore.

“Mom?” Jack asked as they pulled into the ops center to see not just Bulkhead and his charge were there waiting, but Fowler was there with Jack’s mom. 

“Jack? Why are you here? What’s going on? What have you gotten into?”  Miss Darby was asking, running up to them as he was getting off Arcee’s motorcycle form. “And why aren’t you wearing your helmet?” She was pointing an accusatory finger at him now.

Jack shrugged as soon as he was off. “It’s not like I planned to be riding a motorcycle today, mom,” he said, even as Arcee transformed behind him. “I know as much as you do right now.”

Arcee knelt behind him. “You must be Miss Darby,” she said. “I’m Arcee, the Autobot assigned to keep your son safe.”

“Wait, you were assigned to me? You weren’t just at my work by coincidence?” Jack asked, not sure what to make of that.

“Jackson Darby, Miss June Darby, Rafael Esquivel, Miko Nakadai,” Agent Fowler said, stepping forward as the four new humans gathered together. “We’ve gathered you here today because we had reason to believe your safety is at great risk.”

“And after what happened today at your work, that confirms it,” Arcee said, bringing their attention back to her. “Those ‘Cons were there before I was. That was no coincidence based on the information we’ve been given.”

“But why would they be after us?” Rafael asked, adjusting his glasses.

“Yeah, we’ve done nothing to them,” Miko said, sounding somewhat offended. “I mean, this is exciting and all, but we just found out you existed today!”

The gathered bots all shared a look, not sure how to explain it to the humans without making it seem like Shadebreaker’s fault they were targeted. Optimus stepped forward then, kneeling in front of them.

“The Decepticons came upon some information that led to you four as possible allies to us,” Optimus told them. “And then we received information that your lives may be in danger as a result and acted accordingly.”

“And may we ask how you came about that information?” Miss Darby asked, crossing her arms as she glared up at the bots.

“I’m afraid that’s classified information,” Optimus replied.

There was silence for a moment as the humans all looked at each other.

“So, what now?” Jack finally asked. “Are you guys just going to follow us around 24/7 in case of another attack?”

“No,” Optimus said, shaking his helm. “We do not have the man-power for such an under-taking.”

“You four are going to remain under federal protection until such a time that we believe the threat has passed,” Agent Fowler supplied. 

“What does that mean? We can’t go home?” Rafael asked. “My mom’s gonna be looking for me as soon as it starts getting dark. And are they in danger, too?”

“I will handle things with your family, Rafael,” Fowler assured the boy. “As far as we are aware, they are in no immediate danger. We will, of course, have someone keeping an eye out for them, just in case, but they will be safe and they will know you are somewhere safe.”

“Where are we going, then?” Miss Darby asked. “Are we staying here?”

Fowler shook his head. “Not for long,” he said. “Not even the Autobots are staying for long. We’ve made arrangements to move everyone to a different base, one that’s more secure and safe for everyone, but it’s not ready yet.”

“After today, Agent Fowler, I’m afraid we cannot wait if we are to keep the humans safe,” Optimus said. “The attack on Jackson Darby proves the Decepticons have the information we suspected. The sooner we move, the better it will be for everyone.”

“I’m-” Fowler started, but was cut off by the whole base rumbling and alarms going off.

“What’s that?” Raf asked.

“Blast it! Already?” Arcee asked, standing as Optimus did the same.

“The Decepticons know we are here,” Optimus said. “Bumblebee, get the humans out of here. Arcee, operate the Ground Bridge, you know the coordinates. Bulkhead, protect this position. I will go help Ratchet with his patient.”

“On it boss,” Bulkhead said, withdrawing his weapons, even as bits of the base started falling down around them.

Bumblebee transformed down and Agent Fowler ushered the four new humans into his vehicle form as Arcee opened the Bridge to the location of the new base they’d been promised. Once they were through, she shut down the Bridge and moved to the computer to make sure the data was wiped completely from it and set a detonation timer for after they were all out. Bulkhead stood ready to defend her in the event of any ‘Cons showing up in person before the whole base crumbled and to knock away falling rocks from her frame as she worked. Some took out computers as they worked.

“Arcee!” Optimus reappeared a few minutes later, Shadebreaker in his arms and Ratchet hot on his heels, holding his right arm at an awkward angle.

“On it,” Arcee said, reactivating the Bridge.

The four of them ran through the Bridge, Arcee hesitating just long enough to fire a shot back at the controls in order to make it deactivate just as they made it through. Then she hopped out behind the others just in time to not get caught in the vortex as it shut off. She looked around at the open grassy fields, at the buildings that were clearly just beginning to be built. There were a surprising amount of humans scattered around, working at various things. Many stopped to stare at their arrival, alarmed at their appearance, but not as surprised as one might expect. 

“This is it?” Arcee asked. “Not much, is it?”

“It’s secure and safe,” Fowler said, walking over. “The shielding system was built according to Ratchet’s specs from the best you guys used during the war and it was the first priority for setting this place up. We may not have a roof yet, but the ‘Cons won’t get us here.”

“We’ve been in worse spots,” Arcee said, watching as Optimus carefully sat Shadebreaker on the ground, supporting her against a stationary human tank as she grunted.

Miko ran up to her and started asking a million questions, causing her wings to shift uncomfortably before Jack pulled the eager and outgoing human away, leading her back to the others.

Arcee approached Shadebreaker as Optimus turned his attention to helping Ratchet tend his wounded arm, clearly struck by a falling piece of debris. She knelt next to the femme, who looked at her briefly, before looking away toward the ground. “How are you holding up?”

Shadebreaker sighed. “As well as one could be, I suppose,” she replied. She gusted air through her systems and then glanced where the human children and Jack’s mom were talking with Agent Fowler and a military man that was already on the base when they’d arrived. Then she looked back at Arcee. “I’d really hoped I was being over cautious alerting so quickly. That we at least would have more time. And now you’ve lost your base and four people have had their whole lives and world views completely uprooted in the matter of hours.”

“It’s not your fault, Shadebreaker,” Optimus said from where he was putting Ratchet’s arm in a brace with what materials they had on hand. “Without your information, we wouldn’t have gotten them, or ourselves, to safety so quickly. You didn’t give the Decepticons any of that information willingly and you are doing your best to prevent as much damage as possible.”

Shadebreaker was staring at Optimus the whole time he spoke and Arcee could read in her body language that she took everything he said seriously. Arcee doubted any of the rest of them could’ve gotten through to her like the Autobot leader. The way her frame relaxed at his words was reassuring to Arcee that the femme would be ok in the end. Then she looked out across the fields of where they landed. 

“Taking notes?” Arcee asked, joking for the most part, but the look on her face reminded her of one of the officers she’d known once.

“A little bit,” Shadebreaker said. “I recognize a couple of these human soldiers from a separate reality from the one I know the humans we pulled in from. I’m not sure what to make of that.”

“You said yourself you didn’t know if our timeline would be remotely the same anymore,” Ratchet pointed out. “It’s fair to assume that if there are multiple versions of us bots, there may be multiple versions of the humans as well. And we may encounter more of them now.”

“That makes sense,” Shadebreaker said. “It just brings up a few questions in my mind is all.”

“Agent Fowler has looked into the other possible human allies already,” Optimus said, clearly intending to reassure the femme. “The ones that exist in this reality are safe as well, you do not need to worry.”

Shadebreaker nodded at that, sighing. Clearly that was exactly what she’d been concerned about.

Arcee placed a hand on the femme’s shoulder, giving it a reassuring pat. Then she stood up as Fowler and the human soldier walked over toward them as the civilians moved over to where Bulkhead and Bumblebee were talking with some of the other human soldiers.

“Optimus,” Fowler said. He motioned toward the soldier next to him. “This is Major William Lennox. He leads the men you see here at this base. It’s a special squad we’ve been putting together to work with you bots as the need for human assistance may arise known as N.E.S.T.”

“You can call me Will,” William said, looking up at them in what Arcee was pretty sure was awe.

“Well met, Will,” Optimus said. “I am Optimus Prime, leader of the Autobots. This Ratchet, my Chief Medical Officer, Arcee, my acting  second-in-command and Shadebreaker, our newest member.”

The three all nodded or waved as Optimus introduced them. Then Optimus motioned toward the other two bots who were talking with a handful of soldiers and the civilians.

“The two you see over there are Bumblebee, our scout and Bulkhead, former wrecker,” Optimus continued.

“Wrecker?” Will asked, watching how careful the big guy was being moving around his men.

“It’s the bots’ version of our black ops,” Fowler told him. “He’s a heavy hitter, that one.”

“Ah,” Will said, nodding in understanding. Then he turned back toward Optimus and the other bots immediately in front of him. “It’s great finally actually meeting you. I’m sorry we weren’t more prepared for your arrival. We were expecting more time to get the base put together and didn’t prioritize getting any buildings put up.”

“We can hardly blame you,” Arcee said. “We didn’t exactly plan to be here this quickly ourselves. The ‘Cons kinda forced our hands. At least it sounds like you got some shielding up.”

“That was top priority,” Will said. “We thought it might look suspicious if they noticed a bunch of soldiers suddenly building on a remote island not on any maps. Wouldn’t do you any good to come to a base if they could immediately attack you with any kind of success.”

“Indeed,” Ratchet said sarcastically. “I just hope your technology is up to the task.”

“I’ve been assured there’s nothing to worry about,” Will said. “For now, I’m afraid, you’ll be under the open sky until we can at least set up a tent large enough to cover you. We’ll have to send for some larger tarps. Temporary shelter for you Autobots wasn’t in the cards. An oversight now that we’re here.”

Ratchet grunted, clearly not surprised by this oversight. 

“I told the guys at Pentagon to prepare for unexpected early arrivals,” Fowler said, clearly annoyed.

“Well, you know Galloway, sir,” Will said, causing Fowler to make a noise of irritation.

Shadebreaker’s helm snapped toward him at that and Arcee sensed irritation ooze off her frame at the mere mention of that name. She suspected the femme knew of this human and held no good feelings toward him.

Will seemed to notice this reaction as well, cause he gave her a weird look, but he turned his attention away as Fowler took him and Optimus away to talk more privately.

“Looks like you know that Galloway person,” Arcee said, amused at the femme’s reaction.

“If you guys think Agent Fowler can be irritating, just wait until you meet Galloway,” Shadebreaker said. “Fowler is actually a really good liaison to have, once he has a chance to understand you. Galloway, however, is the type you can’t get through to, and has his head stuck so far in his own butt he can’t see what’s right in front of him. If he’s anything like the version of himself I know, we’re all gonna despise any time we have to work with him. And if what Will said is any indication, I’d stake money on it, if I had any.”

Arcee chuckled a little at that as Ratchet grumbled at that.

Megatron strode onto the bridge, barely sparring the vehicons manning their posts a glance as they scrambled to follow orders they had just received. Soundwave and Starscream were at the end of the walkway, quietly conversing about some readings they had clearly picked up just before his arrival.

“Starscream,” Megatron said smoothly.

“Ah-ee,” Starscream jumped, clearly startled by the larger mech’s sudden appearance. “Lord Megatron! You’ve returned! We were just, uh, ah…”

Soundwave just silently pointed at the screen in front of them, which displayed some information.

“What’s this?” Megatron asked.

“Some information from Shockwave, Lord Megatron,” Starscream replied. “Apparently in his, ah, scientific,” he all but spat the word, for in Starscream’s mind Shockwave’s science borderlined on madness, though it still technically was science, “endeavors he came across a bot with some…information he thought would prove useful to us. I’m not sure how much of it will be useful. We’re still trying to sort through it. I’ve already dispatched some vehicons to investigate some of the more minor claims.”

“Hmm,” Megatron hummed. He shoved Starscream aside to approach the computer himself, looking through the information pulled up. Some possible human allies, some marked as being investigated, pointless if you asked Megatron—humans were of no consequence—though he could see how it was a low risk way of confirming if the data held any merit. Also in the list as it scrolled past, however, were possible location of Autobot bases.

“And have you thought, Starscream, to investigate any of these base locations?” Megatron asked.

“Er, no, my lord,” Starscream said, clearly getting more nervous as Megatron hovered closer and closer to him, his presence threatening bodily harm if his answer wasn’t good enough. “I thought it might be best to confirm the information to have any accuracy first, Lord Megatron. If we attack the wrong location and the Autobots figure out we’re hunting them, they could simply, move, my Lord.”

“Soundwave! Which of these bases do you find most likely?” Megatron asked him, not moving away from his threatening position to Starscream.

Soundwave looked at the list and then the screen on his face showed a wavelength on it. “Commander Starscream, target sighted. Human-Autobot alliance with the human Jackson Darby has been confirmed.”

“Ahh, I see,” Megatron said silkily as he finally backed off Starscream. “Tell our friends to continue their pursuit, it’ll keep one Autobot busy while we narrow the base down.”

“That human is noted to live in Jasper, Nevada according to the information we received from Shockwave,” Starscream said, as Soundwave typed on the console, hiding his unease with an air of achievement.

After going through a series of possible locations and ruling them out based on various factors, Soundwave highlighted the one he believed most likely. He looked expectantly at Megatron.

“A military base nearby that same town,” Megatron said. “Depending upon the humans to hide you, old friend? How the mighty have fallen. Set course for that base! We’re going to raze it to the ground.”

Megatron stepped through the rubble on the base they’d just bombed to the ground, looking for signs his old friend turned enemy had indeed been here. He was more than certain they’d chosen the right base among the potential ones, he trusted Soundwave to get it right. Plus, the equipment was sparking, as if it had been powered before being taken out.

“This place was kind of small,” Starscream commented as he kicked over a large piece of debris. He bent down and picked something up, turning it over in his hands. “I almost feel bad for them. Being cramped underground in such small quarters.”

“Feeling sympathy for the enemy, Starscream?” Megatron asked.

Starscream shuddered slightly. “Just typical Seeker aversion to being underground is all,” he said, moving away as he tossed the item aside.

A vehicon ran back to them from their own reconnaissance. “No signs of any of the Autobots being caught in the attack, my lord,” the vehicon reported to Megatron. “But I did find this.” He passed Megatron a datapad. “It’s blinking with a message."

“Interesting,” Megatron said as Starscream came over to look at it around his arm. Megatron hit the button to play the message.

The screen lit up, showing the face of a femme wearing an orange visor. The femme then held up a hand with her middle digit sticking up at them and stuck her tongue out at them. The words “Better luck next time, assholes” read across the screen. Then the message was cut off.

Megatron sneered, breaking the datapad with his grip. Something told him that Shockwave’s source of information was with and helping the Autobots now. That would complicate things. That meant whatever information Shockwave had sent them, the Autobots also had access to. They had to move quickly if they were to gain any advantage.

“What now, Lord Megatron?” Starscream asked.

“Back to the ship,” Megatron said. “I want to know everything Shockwave sent us in the databurst.”

Chapter Text

Chapter 4: Recovery

The weeks following the Decepticons forcing us to leave the Jasper base passed in a blur as far as I was concerned. It was hard to keep track of days when you weren't super involved with anything besides people watching. The bots and humans made conversation with me as their schedules allowed, though I was awkward with much of it and was still hesitant to open up to anyone beyond surface level stuff.

I was grateful when Ratchet finally gave me permission to start moving around, carefully. Even more grateful than when we had been supplied proper bot-sized beds so we could stop sleeping on the ground, albeit we were still all in the one tent thus far.

"Remember, don't go too far," Ratchet said. "Just a short walk around the immediate area around the tent."

"I hear you, Ratchet," I said, accepting his help to get to my pedes. Despite my eagerness to move, I was still grateful that he didn't let me go until we were both sure I wasn't about to collapse.

"Sir! Wait! You're not supposed to go in there!" a voice called both our attention to the small entry flap for humans that were allowed in the bot area.

"You can't tell me where I can and can't go, I answer to the president," a man said as he barged into the tent—stormed in, more like.

"Oh," I said, tone clearly disgruntled by the appearance of the man. "Him." I watched as the man stormed through the tent toward where Optimus was discussing something with Agent Fowler, a soldier hot on his tail, trying to tell him he needed to wait somewhere else.

"Who?" Ratchet asked.

"Galloway," I said dryly, watching as the man started yelling at Fowler about unnecessary troop movements and then cutting him off when he tried to speak. "I do not envy Optimus having to deal with him." My wings shifted slightly. "And yet, I wonder if my experience of having been both human and Cybertronian might help smooth negotiations."

"I wouldn't suggest stepping into this one," Ratchet said. "You should talk with Optimus before inserting yourself into such scenes."

I nodded in understanding. Given Galloway was yelling about military stuff, it wouldn't be my area of expertise anyhow. Then, I made for the front of the tent, carefully watching the growing argument between Liaison and Director as Optimus tried to calm them. I managed to slip out without somehow being dragged into it, thankfully, and took in the fresh sea air.

"Hey! It's the bird bot!" Miko's voice reached my audials.

"Bird bot?" I asked as she ran to join me as I started walking.

"I might have forgot your name, whoops," Miko said and I chuckled.

"Shadebreaker," I supplied. "I'm surprised you're not hanging with Bulkhead."

"He's off base right now," Miko said.

"Ah," I said, realizing he must've left either midnight or early morning, since he'd been here last night. Either on a ship or a carrier plane since we didn't have an operational Ground Bridge. Which meant he wouldn't be back for some time. Ratchet had begun the process of building a new Bridge, but it was mostly in the stage of negotiations for supplies.

"Sooo," She said. "You're finally up and at 'em!"

"Somewhat," I said. "Ratchet said just a short walk around the area is alright. But it is nice being able to move again, finally. I was going rather stir crazy."

"I bet! I'm going stir crazy and I'm not even bedridden!" Miko said.

I chuckled. "What? Island exploration not doing it for ya?" I asked.

"It's better with Bulkhead," Miko said. "And without helicopter mom." She motioned toward the human medical tent.

"Ah," I said. "Go easy on Jack's mom. She worries. For good reason. Being a single parent will do that to a woman. She'll calm down as she gets to know us bots, I'm sure."

"What makes you so sure?" Miko asked.

"I think I have somewhere to speak from, as the daughter of a single mom," I said, glancing down at her.

"Oohh, so you bots are born, eh?" Miko asked, running to catch up after having stopped for a moment.

"Hmm," I hummed, neither confirming nor denying her statement. I had no concrete answer myself.

"Anyway, you got some pretty cool wings! Can you fly? How fast? Does it help you lay on the beat down on the Decepticons?" Miko asked.

I raised an optic ridge at her. "I cannot answer those questions as of yet," I replied honestly. "Though I'm sure flight will give me some advantage over any non-flying opponents."

"What? How can you not know? Oh! Is it classified? Would you have to kill me if you told me?" Miko asked, tone one of teasing.

"What?" I asked, taken aback by that. "No, I mean…I don't think so? Look, can we not talk about it? It's not a pleasant subject for me to explain exactly why I don't know. That's all."

Miko looked up at me for a moment in consideration. "Ok," she said after a moment. "Do you like rock music?"

I almost chuckled at the abrupt subject change. "Depends," I said. "If you're talking screamo, then no, but general rock, then yes. And some screamo can be present in a song as long as I know what is being said. I like most music, but understandability is important in whether I like it or not. And subject matter."

"That's fair," Miko said. "We should totally hang out some time and rock out then."

"I mean, we could now," I told her. "Well, I can't dance or anything, but we could listen to music and chill out. It's not like my frame can handle training or missions or anything."

"Sweet! We can determine what kind of music we both like!" Miko said, hopping a little bit and then pulling out a phone. I noticed it looked different from the one she sported in the show. "Let's see…" she swiped a few times on her phone. "..here we go!"

Music started coming from her phone and we spent the next twenty minutes just walking and going through some songs to identify ones we mutually liked so she could make a playlist for Miko-Shadebreaker hangout sessions. Not all of it stuck within the same genre, as I actually was able to introduce her to some music I was familiar with that she ended up liking well enough.

"Well," I said as we came back to the tent where the Autobots were staying. "I need to return to my rest. My frame, it seems, is not yet ready for a lot of activity. But we will hang out again sometime."

"Yeah we will!" Miko said excitedly.

I gave her a wave and then stepped back into the tent. I glanced over to see that Optimus and Fowler were still discussing something with Galloway and I made a face. I moved back toward the area we had designated as temporary medbay—the immediate area around where Optimus had first settled me. The tank had long been removed, replaced by a makeshift counter, and we had a couple beds within it. It wasn't fully equipped yet, but it was at least getting there.

"Just in time before I started comming you," Ratchet said.

"I'm pretty intune with how my frame is handling things, then," I said, halfway grinning. "Which is good. I wondered how well I would be able to tell, all things considered. It probably helps that I had to be aware of how my body was handling life before as well. Lots of practice." I climbed carefully onto my designated bed, laying down on my stomach and sighing. "And I didn't go far. Miko and I basically just walked around all the tents the humans are using for their temporary quarters once. Which is, like, once around the block for us, I reckon."

"About," Ratchet said, raising an optic ridge as he ran his scanner over me.

"It'll be nice when I can go further and I can go to one of the beaches," I said. "Assuming any of them are within the shielding."

"There are three beaches I've been told are within the shielding," Ratchet said. "One has already been designated as bot-only, so we have a place to go relax away from the humans if we need. Once you are healthy enough, I'm sure one of us can take you to see it."

"You been yet?" I asked.

Ratchet shook his helm as he moved toward the makeshift counter. "There's too much to do," he said, picking up one of the remaining cubes from Vector. "Between dealing with supply requests, your healthcare, the others…I don't have time for a beach trip."

"Don't forget to take care of your health, too, Ratchet," I told him as I shifted to sit up as he brought me the cube and passed it to me. "That includes your mental health." I looked at him. "Trust me. You cannot take care of us, if you do not take care of you. I'm surprised you don't know that."

"I know that, of course I know that," Ratchet said.

I stared at him, raising my optics ridges at him in disbelief.

Ratchet scoffed at me, shaking his helm. "Fine," he said. "I'll go to the beach after sending the latest request forms."

"Good," I said. "And if you don't like it, you don't have to go again. But you gotta relax, too."

"Who's the doctor here, again?" Ratchet asked.

"I only pester cause someone's gotta pester you," I said, grinning. "And we both know no one else besides Optimus has the guts to do so. And he's busy. I'm sharing information cause I want you all to live. Won't do any good if you work yourself to death, will it?"

"You care an awful lot for a femme that keeps us all at arm's length," Ratchet observed.

I sipped my energon to buy time to think of a response. "I care a great deal," I said quietly, looking at the ground. "It's just hard to let people close when you don't know if you might lose everything again. It feels like every time I turn around….I'm losing. So…what's the point? The best I can do is help however I can. I just am not convinced I'm here for good, that I won't wake up one day to you all giving me the boot or life just being like 'you're going somewhere else now, thanks, bye'. I finally had some sense of stability, some sense that I belonged where I was, and then suddenly I was ripped from it and lost literally everything, even my humanity. So forgive me if I keep everyone at a distance."

I glanced up at Ratchet then and saw his expression had softened a great deal and he looked kinda sad. I looked away again, back at the spot in the grass on the floor of the tent I'd been staring at the whole time I spoke and took a drink of my energon. My wings shifted as I sensed Optimus's presence getting closer.

"You don't need to worry about us sending you away," Ratchet told me gently. "We would never do that."

"Even if I didn't have any more information? Even if I didn't have any to begin with?" I asked, feeling rather insecure about it.

Optimus's hand landed on my shoulder then. "Even then," he said. "While your information is valuable, your life is much more so. We would never turn you away."

"Unless you betrayed us," Ratchet said. "And I don't get the impression you are the type to do that."

I almost teared up, but I managed not to. I don't know why I felt the need to keep myself from it, but I did anyways. Probably the trauma. "Thank you," I said quietly.

"As for if life will take you away, we can't predict that," Ratchet said. "But if you spend so much time worrying about what life may take away, you'll miss out on what it has given you in the now."

"That sounds very Optimus of you," I said, glancing slightly up at Optimus and the big bot glanced back at me, a sparkle in his optics.

"Pretty sure he said it to me once," Ratchet said dryly.

"Ah," I said, slightly amused. My wings shifted a little as I looked back at the medic. "That explains why those words sound very wisdom-y."

"Are you implying I can't sound wisdom-y without quoting Optimus?" Ratchet asked, putting his hands on his hips. I couldn't quite tell if he was offended or amused.

"Not at all," I said, grinning as I heard the sound of Optimus sliding his battle-mask into place. I was amusing the great Autobot leader, at least. That was a win in my book.

Ratchet gave me a look of annoyed doubt.

"No, really," I said, grinning. "Actually, one of my all time favorite quotes is from you."

"Oh really?" Ratchet asked, crossing his arms. "And what's that?"

"In a contest between resources and ingenuity, never underestimate ingenuity," I quoted one of his lines from the Aligned continuity books.

"I don't know if I recall…" Ratchet said, looking thoughtful.

"I remember," Optimus said, battlemask sliding away once more to reveal a small smile. "It was shortly before we left Cybertron, after you repaired Omega Supreme."

"Ah, right, I remember now," Ratchet said. "Right after Ultra Magnus volunteered to stay on Cybertron to fight the Decepticons who remained there."

I was looking between them, absorbing this information in and comparing it to what I knew. "Hm," I hummed thoughtfully.

"Some of this contradicting anything?" Ratchet asked.

I shrugged. "Not really?" I said. "Magnus shows up sometime in the show, but it never directly contradicts how he stays on Cybertron in the books or your story. It says he follows a large Cybertronian signature to Earth, never really explaining why he left Cybertron—if the signal prompted it or if it came after. There are some contradictions in the show from the books—such as your knowledge of Dark Energon—so I'm mostly taking notes on what is accurate and what is not. Not to mention, the vast array other continuities and the fact there could be differences I don't know about. The information hoarder in me is just logging the information is all."

Ratchet chuckled. "You could've been an archivist, it sounds like. Back in the old days."

"Possibly," I said. "Though I see me ending up a lot like Optimus did. Dissatisfied and curious about what else there was. Can't hoard all the information stuck in a small section of the planet."

Ratchet shook his helm at me, chuckling slightly. He likely remembered those days of a young Orion Pax well, if the show was to be believed about him knowing Optimus since before the war. The books weren't clear on that, just that he knew Jazz since before then. It would make sense, though. Even Data Clerks would need a medic at some point.

"Hey you laugh, but my information hoarding tendencies is why I have so much information to share with you guys," I said, half-way grinning. I was ignoring the pang of guilt in my spark that it was also why the Decepticons had at least some of that same information and we had no way of knowing just how much. "It-" I stopped as the feelings of guilt hit me harder than I could ignore with the other emotions I was constantly dealing with. I almost wished I didn't have any of it, but then I would be useless to the bots. My wings made a motion as if trying to shoo off the feeling, but it didn't help.

Optimus's hand on my shoulder became a firmer grip. "We appreciate your knowledge," he said. "But remember, it is not the only value you bring."

"Is it not?" I asked, thankful for a refocus. I assumed he knew what I'd been thinking thanks to the Matrix. "I can't fight, not properly anyway, it's been too long since I've any practice, I can't even learn how to yet in my current state. We don't have littles around for me to babysit, except maybe the human children, in the event their assigned guardians are all needed for missions. I'm not a medic like Ratchet. Without my information, at the moment, I don't have anything else to give."

"You have your company," Ratchet said. "You just have to let yourself open up to everybot. Like you have to us now."

I raised my optic ridges at him. "What? Like, walk up to Arcee and be like 'I'm afraid I'm going to lose you tomorrow, so gimme a hug!'?" I asked sarcastically.

Ratchet snorted a little. "Clearly not," he said. "You don't have to spill your guts out to everybot. I'm just saying you could stop keeping everybot at arm's length. You let us in a little bit today. That's progress. Don't lose it, is all I'm saying."

I looked down, considering that for a moment. "I don't think my company is really worth that much, Ratchet," I said softly, quietly. I glanced up at Optimus. "But I will consider…trying to allow myself to make genuine friends again. It won't be easy. I have a lot of scars, recent events aside even. But you are both right. If I am too busy being afraid of the past repeating itself, I may watch my whole life go by sitting alone when I don't need to….nor do I want to. I've been alone before. It is a darkness I don't really want to feel again."

"I'm glad to hear it," Optimus said.

Starscream was not particularly happy to be walking through the halls of the Harbinger. He had kept the ship's locations out of the logs of the Decepticon warship in hopes to use it to his advantage at a later date, but Shockwave's data burst had blown those plans out of the water. How this strange bot—apparently it had been a bot—Shockwave had…interrogated? Mind-scanned? Whatever he had done to get the information from them. How this strange bot had even known about the Harbinger was beyond Starscream. The bot had known a great many things, it seemed, for which Starscream could think of no logical explanation for.

"I seriously doubt we're gonna find anything, Master," Starscream said, picking some dust out of his chassis. "I searched this hunk of junk thoroughly when we first arrived on this Primus forsaken planet and found nothing of use."

"Did you now, Starscream?" Megatron asked as they stopped at the entrance to the storage room mentioned in the data burst from Shockwave. He glanced at Starscream with a raised optic ridge and then casually hit the button to open it.

Starscream peered around the massive mech to see several containers within the storage room. He glanced back at Megatron only for the Decepticon leader to motion him to enter first. Chuckling nervously, Starscream did so, looking around the room as he entered. The containers were all labeled for weapons and ammunition.

"If you searched the ship so thoroughly, Starscream," Megatron said, entering behind him, looming over the Seeker. "Then why are there so many weapons left behind?!"

Starscream cowered, wings lowering in fear as he scrambled for some space between them, but for every step he took it seemed like Megatron closed the distance by twice as much until he was basically on top of him. "A-a m-minor o-oversight, m-my lord," he said. "You know, w-with you gone we all had to a-assume additional responsibilities. This r-room must've s-slipped through the c-cracks. T-that's all."

Megatron snarled. "Do I need to remind you of the consequences of crossing me, Starscream?"

"N-no! No, my Lord!" Starscream said, holding his arms up to shield himself. "I meant no disrespect! I swear!"

Megatron growled lowly. Then, much to Starscream's relief, he moved away toward one of the crates toward the back of the room.

Starscream took a moment to mostly collect himself before following cautiously behind his master. He peered around him as the Decepticon leader tore the top off the crate to reveal its contents. The giant mech reached into it and pulled out what appeared at first to be a staff with prongs on one end and a section about midway down the shaft looked to be controls of some kind.

"Is that…?" Starscream asked, trailing off. He had not realized such a weapon was sitting in this ship.

"The Immobilizer," Megatron said. "Captured from the Autobot Wheeljack during the Battle of Tyger Pax. Now, it will help us defeat the Autobots here on Earth and rid us of Optimus Prime once and for all!"

Starscream's wings shifted slightly as he considered the weapon in Megatron's hand.

.:No signs of 'Cons so far over here,:. Bulkhead reported over the comms as he sat in the parking lot of the museum they'd been sent to.

Bumblebee sent a message burst confirming the same on his side.

.:All quiet here as well,:. Arcee said. .:How's it going in there, Will?:.

.:Just waiting for the go ahead from our hacker,:. Major Lennox replied.

Arcee shifted slightly on her wheels impatiently, doing another scan with her sensors on high alert for Decepticon activity. She was a bit on edge. This was their second mission based upon Shadebreaker's information and while they had already confirmed its validity, it was the first mission they were working with humans on in their entire tenure on Earth.

It made Arcee a little antsy. Shadebreaker had mentioned it worked out in other realities, but she was still doubtful of the wisdom of going along with it. She was sure if it weren't for the fact they were needed for the extraction of the Energon Harvester from the museum, Optimus would not have been so easily convinced. Even Shadebreaker herself had suggested some drills and training before putting it into practice on the regular, despite being the most chill with the idea. The femme seemed to have some faith in this Major Lennox, however, deferring to him easily when the human had chimed in about how his men had been training for years already to encounter Cybertronians.

.:Moving in now,:. Major Lennox reported.

.:Acknowledged,:. Arcee replied. .:Still quiet out here. Bulkhead? Bumblebee?:.

The others reported back the same and Arcee gave a quiet hum of consideration. It was quite possible the Decepticons were too busy chasing a different strand of information to bother with this one, but Arcee found it highly unlikely. The Energon Harvester seemed like too useful an artifact for the Decepticons to just let go of. It wasn't like Megatron to just give them a win. And if they did pass it up for something else, that meant something else they found in her information was just too much more useful to pass up and that was a worrisome thought. Arcee knew there were more artifacts that Shadebreaker was sorting out the exact locations of and the Decepticons potentially had all of it at their fingertips.

As if summoned by her concerns, her sensors suddenly pinged at the same time two vehicles pulled into the dark parking lot. She shifted her rear view mirrors to get a good read on them as they approached. A red sports car and an armored van slowed to a stop not far behind her.

.:I got two 'Cons closing in,:. Arcee reported.

.:Copy that,:. Bulkhead replied as the red car pulled up next to Arcee.

The Decepticon whistled. "Nice rims, sleek design," he said. "Bet I could take you in a race sometime. Too bad I gotta take you out here."

"In your dreams, 'Con!" Arcee said.

The two of them transformed simultaneously and she dodged an attack from an energon prod before deploying her arm blades and making a play to slice his face. He blocked the blow with his prod, however, grinning as his partner ran toward them from behind her.

His partner didn't have a chance to attack her, however, as Bulkhead came barreling into him and the two large bots went rolling through the parking lot.

Arcee smirked and then pushed against her opponent's weapon, pushing him back. Now that she had a good look at him, she recognized him as Knock-Out, one of the Decepticon's medics known more for his penchant to take things apart than to put them together.

"Arcee, such a lovely face to spend an evening with," Knock-Out said, motioning with a hand. "Is now a good time to ask for your time over a cube of enegon some time?"

"Sorry," Arcee said as they circled each other. "You're not my type."

They came together in a clash again, sparks coming from where their weapons made contact. Knock-Out shoved her and then grabbed her by the helm with one hand to keep her off balance before shoving the business end of his energon prod into her stomach.

Arcee convulsed before he let her fall to the ground, laughing.

"Like taking candy from a sparkling," he said.

Before he had time to shift his attention to helping Breakdown with Bulkhead, a weight rammed into him from behind. He let out a shout of surprise as he dropped his weapon and shifted to try to pry a yellow bot off his midsection.

"Insolent pest! Watch the paint job!" Knock-Out cried.

Bumblebee whirled and clicked a response the Decepticon medic couldn't understand and pushed harder. Knock-Out growled and flexed his digits before viciously scratching at the Praxian's doorwings. Bumblebee let out a cry before heaving the Decepticon with all his might, lifting the medic up and swinging him away from where Arcee was now laying prone on the ground.

Bumblebee let him go to stumble away a step before delivering a solid punch right to the jaw and following up with an uppercut before he could recover. Knock-Out managed to block the next blow and backhanded Bumblebee hard enough to cause the scout to stumble a couple steps himself.

They traded several more blows before fire was suddenly peppering the Decepticon. Letting out a sound of annoyance at the sting of bullets, Knock-Out growled, looking toward the source.

"Humans?" He asked.

Before he could question the Autobots sudden partnership with such a weak species, Bumblebee started in on a series of blows taking advantage of his distraction. The humans ceased fire, not wanting to hit Bumblebee despite the fact their weapons didn't appear to have much effect on the Cybertronian. They instead regrouped to figure out a different strategy to assist.

Bumblebee knocked Knock-Out back several steps with a strong kick to his chest and as the Decepticon medic fumed over his scratched paint, Bulkhead threw Breakdown right into him.

"Ooo, you bots are gonna pay for that!" Knock-Out snarled as he and Breakdown got to their pedes.

Bumblebee whirled a challenge that anyone could interpret as "Bring it on!"

They didn't get a chance to, however, as a round from the humans hit Knock-Out square in the chassis, exploding on impact. Knock-Out was blown back and Breakdown was forced to catch him otherwise the mech would've crashed onto the ground. The mech covered his chest with a hand and then looked at the energon that soaked it.

"That one hurt?!" He said in both anger and confusion.

He growled, glaring at the humans as Breakdown helped him stand up again. He could tell he was no longer steady, losing energon as he was. And the humans were already loading another round of whatever it was they shot at him into their large weapon.

"Breakdown," he said. "Retreat."

The two Decepticons transformed and peeled out of the parking lot as fast as their wheels could carry them, leaving behind a trail of energon from Knock-Out's wound.

Bumblebee shouted a victory cry as Bulkhead laughed.

"You said it 'Bee," Bulkhead said. He turned toward the humans, seeing them celebrating as well, and seeing them wheeling the Energon Harvester toward their transport back to the plane that brought them from the island.

He heard a groan and looked toward Arcee, seeing the femme stir from where she'd been knocked out. The moment she was online enough, she jolted up, weapons at the ready, but lowered them when she saw the threat was gone.

"What'd I miss?" She asked.

"The humans sent the 'Cons running!" Bulkhead told her, grinning as he and Bumblebee walked over to her. "And the Harvester is allll ours."

"Sweet," Arcee smirked. "Sorry I missed that."

Chapter Text

Chapter 5: First Mission

"Shadebreaker!" Ratchet's voice suddenly broke me out of my concentration as I leaned over the datapads scattered in front of me in intense concentration.

"Huh? What?" I asked, straightening and looking over at him. I realized he and Optimus were both looking at me in concern. I paused the music I'd had on while I worked while they'd been out of the tent.

"Are you…well?" Optimus asked. "Ratchet was calling your name multiple times."

I rubbed my helm in slight embarrassment. "Sorry, I, uh, was simply very concentrated," I said, tilting my helm and motioned at the datapads. "Some of the remaining artifacts don't have exact locations, so I was trying to pinpoint them." I lifted my transcription datapad and then tapped it. "The Polarity Gauntlet I sent you guys toward, for example, never gave a specific place, nor coordinates, but there was enough of a map that I had an area to search through and cross reference map data. Some don't even have that, just vague surroundings with nothing that sticks out."

"Well," Ratchet said as the mechs approached. "The positive side of that is that if the 'Cons have the same information as what's in your helm, they have the same problem. That puts us on even ground."

I gave him an appreciative look at that. "I was trying to pull enough detail to pinpoint as small of a search area for those items as possible," I said, placing the datapad back down. "It just takes a lot of concentration to keep my focus on that much detail for so long without it straying to…related memories. Some of which I don't necessarily want to revisit."

"Bad memories?" Optimus asked.

"Yeah," I said, looking away sadly. "I mean…not all of them were bad, but…even the good ones get tainted when…" I trailed off and sighed, waving a hand. "It doesn't matter. It's in the past. No use dwelling on past trauma when you can't do anything about it."

"I understand," Optimus said, placing a hand on my shoulder. "We all have things we find difficult to talk about."

I gave him a grateful smile this time. Then I passed him my transcription datapad. "I did pinpoint a couple of the artifacts already," I told him. "There are some I still need work on, but what I do have narrowed down further is the location of the Phase Shifter and Star Saber."

"Did you say the Star Saber?" Ratchet said, sounding in awe as he looked over Optimus's shoulder.

"The legendary weapon of Prima of the Thirteen original Primes," I said, standing up straight. "Yes. Due to some of the conflicting information between the books and the show, it is mildly possible based on that alone the Star Saber might not even be here. But if it is here, I figure it's pretty important to keep Megatron from using it."

"Though you are correct, he couldn't really use the Star Saber, not to its full potential," Ratchet said thoughtfully. "Only a Prime can use it, if the stories are true."

"In the show he desecrated the Tomb of Primes and stole an arm to use the Forge of Solus Prime," I told him plainly. "Nothing stops him from doing that in real life, I'm sure. I mean, unless he doesn't have a Space Bridge, I suppose. I've noticed a lack of Dark Energon infused zombies and space battles, so some events from the show have already just…not transpired."

"Dark Energon infused zombies?" Ratchet asked. He shook his helm and then looked at Optimus.

"It does appear that our timeline has deviated from the one you are familiar with," Optimus agreed. "So far, however, it seems your information is leading us well. We were able to recover the Energon Harvester, though unfortunately the Decepticons appear to have beaten us to both the Polarity Gauntlet and the Immobilizer."

"Sweet on the Harvester, not so much on the others," I said, wings lifting. "The Harvester should help some with resources. I know at least one untapped Energon deposit on Earth we could use it on."

"We have a few logged in our data systems," Ratchet replied. "The only reason the Decepticons don't have their greedy hands in them is because they're unmineable. The Harvester will allow us access to them."

I nodded my agreement there, satisfied my information was turning out useful despite the changes taking place in the timeline. "Was anyone hurt during these missions?" I asked in concern. No one had returned yet that I'd seen, besides some of the humans delivering the Energon Harvester. I was anxious for our Ground Bridge to be rebuilt, as I was sure they were.

"Fortunately not," Ratchet replied. "Nothing serious, anyways."

My wings relaxed some at that news.

"You mentioned the Forge of Solus Prime," Optimus said. "Do you have its location as well?"

"Kinda. It's in China, like the Star Saber, but a different part of China," I replied. "I haven't pinned the exact spot, but…" I picked up the datapad I had a world map pulled up on and held it where he could see where I had places marked. I pointed out the area I had marked with a hammer. "It's somewhere in this rough area, in a cave. It was snowy in the show, but, given the location, that was due to the season, it's not going to be snowy this time of year. I haven't spent enough time yet on the Forge in particular to have narrowed down which cave, I'm not even sure if I can. I have to find out how many caves exist in that area of China first and then what they look like from the angle the show had the camera at. I mean, maybe there's a faster way, besides obviously just doing the footwork, but this is the system that works for me since we have to fly or boat anywhere we go right now."

Optimus nodded. "Forward me an image and I will relay this information to the away team," he said. "Then I will join them. If the Star Saber and Forge are on Earth, they must not fall into Megatron's hands."

I nodded my agreement. Then my wings shifted slightly and I hesitated only a moment. "What about the Phase Shifter? If you all go to China for the Star Saber and Forge, won't that leave the Phase Shifter free for the 'Cons to grab? They already got the Immobilizer and the Polarity Gauntlet. I'm not sure I want to add the Phase Shifter anymore than either of the Thirteen artifacts to that number. I mean, none of these artifacts were anything to scoff at if the show was anything to go by."

Optimus seemed to consider this for a moment. Then he looked at Ratchet. "Ratchet, is Shadebreaker fit for duty?"

Ratchet sputtered for a minute. "You can't be thinking of sending her alone?" he asked.

My wings shifted slightly. He hadn't said no.

Optimus leveled his medic with a look.

My wings shifted again. He hadn't said no.

Ratchet sighed. "Technically?" He looked between us and then pulled up a screen with my health readings. "All Shadebreaker's readings are in the clear now. That stuff Vector Prime gave her really did give her a boost. Ordinarily it would've been quite a lot more time before this would even be a question."

"I definitely am surprised at how well I feel given I just started moving again a week ago, when the team first left to fetch the Harvester," I commented, just registering how long they'd been gone. Ground travel was a lot slower than Ground Bridge travel, that was for sure.

"But you don't have the combat training the rest of us have," Ratchet continued. "And we have no idea if your frame will hold up to real stress."

"We can call it a field test," I said. "I'll be careful, I know how to pay attention to my limits. I spent years learning how to do that as a human with hEDS."

"With what?" Ratchet asked.

"Connective tissue disorder. Boils down to, I was fragile as heck," I answered, waving a dismissive hand. "And I have some combat training, it's just been a long ass time since I've done any practicing. I'm scrappy, I think I've proved that already. That said, I will avoid any unnecessary fighting."

"And she will not be alone, Ratchet," Optimus said. "You and a contingent of humans will go with her."

"We haven't even tested your T-Cog yet," Ratchet reminded, though he didn't sound like he was fighting quite as hard.

"Perhaps it is time to do so," Optimus said.

I nodded my agreement. "I'm down."

Ratchet sighed, but we moved out of the tent anyways. We moved out toward the field Optimus and Ratchet had been using to train their combat skills between dealing with liaisons, communications with the away team and other management tasks involving establishing a new base. I knew part of it was to alleviate Optimus's frustrations about not being in the field with his bots, even though he didn't say anything. The thing about reading the books over multiple times was knowing how at least some of the bots thought really well, and Optimus was one of those bots. Though I'd hardly say I had a full picture.

Ratchet walked me through how to activate my T-Cog as we walked, so by the time we got there I had a pretty good understanding of what I was doing. After giving myself a bit of distance from them, I gusted air through my systems and then activated it, my systems running through some pre-transformation checks faster than I could count a full beat before the sequence began. Parts shifted and it was decidedly a really weird feeling to transform for the first time. No amount of fanfiction or media I had consumed had prepared me for how…strange it felt.

I blinked at the end, realizing immediately that I wasn't a car. Nor was I a plane or a jet or anything remotely like a vehicle. I stretched a wing out, noticing it moved in place of an arm, my arms having disappeared. Then I twisted, looking at my back as much as I could, seeing parts of my back and tail feathers not unlike those of an owl's spread out. I wiggled them some, watching them as I raised an optic ridge.

"Well, if we had any doubt you're a beast-former before, now they're gone," Ratchet said dryly as he and Optimus approached me.

I turned back to face them, moving awkwardly and nearly falling over before Optimus reached out and grabbed my wing to help me steady myself again. "Well, I can't say I am surprised," I said, nodding to Optimus my thanks. "Beasts are Shockwave's specialty. Thinks beast modes make for easier to control bots." I stood as straight as I could, gauging my height in this mode and realizing it was about the same, which was only a little shorter than Ratchet.

Ratchet made a noise of disgust, grumbling as he ran a scan over me to check my systems. "Well, everything seems to be ok, other than your clumsy movements."

"Which will be better as I get used to this form," I said, shaking myself a little. Some of the smaller pieces of armor around my helm and chest fluffed as if they were feathers and then smoothed back out. It was an interesting feeling. "It shouldn't take too long."

"Hm," Ratchet said. "I still don't like it."

"I know, old friend," Optimus said, placing a hand on Ratchet's shoulder. "But I believe you will keep each other safe."

Ratchet sighed, then motioned me to follow. "Well, first, we should get you some weapons."

I transformed back into bot mode, taking a moment to make sure I wasn't gonna tip over before following behind him.

"What I don't get," Sergeant Epps said as we waited for the go ahead to deplane the cargo plane that had gotten us to the Big Apple. "Is how we're supposed to get you to the subway without you being seen. A large metal owl is not exactly conspicuous."

My wings shifted slightly. "Maybe, but your technology has grown a lot over the years," I said. "You could tell people I am an experimental military AI equipment and most will likely believe you. I could totally move in a way that backs that up."

"I'd buy that if you weren't so clumsy in your alt still," Ratchet grouched.

"Ou au contraire," I said. "My clumsiness is actually what would sell it."

Epps chuckled, shaking his head at that. "Hate to say it, Ratchet, but Shadebreaker's right about that," he said. "Humans haven't exactly mastered AI, as much as the tech gurus want us to believe we have."

"As long as I don't fly," I said. "I don't think the world is ready to believe realistically flying AI owls are a thing. Which means I gotta ride on top of a vehicle, or walk it. I might be able to sell the AI robot, or even just something less than AI, if I rode on top of a vehicle."

"We got just the vehicle for that," Cadet Williams said, grinning as he motioned over toward one of their rovers. It had a roof with a structure that would work perfectly for a perch.

"Oh, perfect then," I said, grinning at that. "If you painted me white I could be Hedwig."

Epps laughed while Ratchet rolled his optics. Then Epps was called away and I turned my attention to checking my weapon I'd chosen. It was a simple enough weapon, just something to start out with until I could get some time to practice and really decide what I wanted and would be comfortable with. I was joking cause I was scared and I was trying not to be and I didn't know how not to be other than turning to humor and deep breathing, the latter of which didn't always work for me. So, since my joking partner was called away, I was breathing deeply as I made sure my weapon was battle ready and my armor was fitting properly.

"Shadebreaker," Ratchet's voice reached me and I looked up as he moved by me, placing a hand on my hand. "Time to move. Subspace that, pull it out when you need it. Don't work yourself up before something even happens."

"Right," I said, realizing I was doing just that. I realized I had only ever ended up in situations unexpectedly before. I didn't really know how to handle it when I was knowingly walking into them. My post reactions seemed to be true for prior too, if my shaking was any indication. At least I knew now.

I put my weapon away, gusted air through my system one more time to refocus myself on what was directly in front of me and then transformed as Ratchet did the same. The ramp to allow us to exit the plane lowered as the few military vehicles being used to transport the humans helping us on this mission moved forward in preparation. Once they'd debarked from the plane, I glided out myself, carefully—clumsily—landing on top of the rover Cadet Williams had pointed out to me, hearing some sounds of surprise from the passengers as the truck shook and shuddered.

"Sorry," I said, leaning over to peer inside. "First time landing on a vehicle, a little clumsy."

"Don't worry about it," a female soldier said, waving it off despite a nervous look on face.

I gave her what I hoped was an apologetic look and then straightened back up and proceeded to pretend to be very robotic. The. Whole. Way. To. The. Destination. It wasn't easy or fun and many times I just wanted to break character and greet all the dogs I saw on the way.

Once we made it to an entry to the subway that seemed clear of most humans—due to construction—we stopped driving for Sergeant Epps to exit the vehicle he was riding and talk to the man in charge. It only took a little convincing that this was a covert military operation to test some features on a new military AI prototype—which was me—before we were delving down into the blocked off area of the subway.

"Alright," Epps said once all the construction workers had been vacated from the tunnels and it was only Autobots and allies left. "Where is this doohickey?" He looked up at me as I carefully removed myself from the roof of the rover.

I transformed and then looked around as one of the men stopped Ratchet from stepping on a third rail. I pulled a datapad from subspace to consult my information against our position.

"This way," I said, motioning before I began moving, cautious of where I stepped.

A small squad of the humans stayed by the entrance with all but one of the vehicles to protect the entry point and act as an early warning if the Decepticons came in this way. I hoped they'd be ok, but I didn't let myself dwell on it. They had a relatively good idea of what they'd signed on for, or at least what they'd stayed for, at this point. And the ones coming with Ratchet and I, walking carefully around our pedes and hugging the walls, were likely to see more danger if the Decepticons did show up.

"I'm starting to pick up faint readings," Ratchet said as he lifted his scanner a bit. "Two klicks ahead."

"Two what?" Cadet Williams asked.

"Kilometers," I replied. "A little over a mile, I think, roughly."

Ratchet made a so-so motion with his hand.

"Which sounds about right to my calculations I did," I said, feeling more relieved than I thought I would about that.

We continued on as another soldier teased Williams about not knowing that, to which he replied that math and distances simply weren't his strong point. I ignored the light banter as I kept my sensors on high alert for any signs of trouble. Something about how quiet it was down here was putting me on edge. Even clearing the tunnel of workers and such didn't feel like it should account for the quietness in the tunnels. Maybe it did, maybe it was just first mission jitters.

My wings shifted as Ratchet found a spot in the tunnel walls where the readings were coming from. After discussing a bit about how to extract it, I took out the hammer I had chosen for my melee weapon—albeit as a test and because I knew it might be useful on this mission. It wasn't huge, but it was nothing to scoff at and it would chip away at the rock between us and the artifact. While I chipped, Ratchet and the humans took up defensive positions around me, alert for any signs of Decepticons, or stray humans Ratchet and I would need to hide from.

A strange tingling in the air I sensed in my wings caused me to pause, wings shifting to pick up more of it. I glanced at Ratchet questioningly. He gave me a quizzical look, but didn't have time to ask before there was an explosion taking out the one vehicle that had been driven all this way with us.

"Aw shit," one of the humans said.

Pandemonium.

That was a good word to describe the immediate vicinity of the blown up vehicle as the humans scrambled to get anyone still alive a safe distance from the wreckage and fire. Perhaps any bystander would describe the scene as a whole with that word. It would describe how it felt to me as I moved with Ratchet to cover the humans from an as yet unseen threat.

"Where are you?" I asked quietly, wings shifting constantly to try to pick up any more strange energy readings as my optics scanned the area, hammer now switched out for the Path Blaster I had chosen from the armory. It was a standard issue model, though I already had ideas for how I might improve it once I figured out how to do such things.

A noise toward where the humans were trying to group the wounded alerted me before anything else and I turned, optics locking onto a shadow creeping closer to them. None of the humans seemed to have noticed the feline-like creature yet, but I was not going to watch while who I assumed was Ravage attacked the wounded humans. I took aim and fired two shots, catching the feline on the shoulder with one shot while he turned quickly toward me and then ducked the second.

The feline mech I assumed to be Ravage hissed and switched his attention toward me, firing off a rocket from his hip at me. Taking quick stock, I realized if I jumped out of the way, that meant the missile would hit the humans still helping the wounded-not-quite-dead. There were only a couple left to move, about half the humans in the vicinity of the vehicle has died on explosion, but that was still too many to just dodge. I was the one who'd argued for the humans being allowed the choice to fight for their planet.

With those things in mind, and guilt for those already lost, I face the rocket, optics locking onto it and put my Path Blaster away. I planted my pedes more firmly and when the rocket was close enough, I slammed both hands together to catch it. It kept pushing forward and the force of it pushed me back, but I dug my pedes further into the ground. I growled, digging my fingers into the sides of the rocket. The booster stopped and for half a moment I thought I was safe.

Then it beeped and a ring of red light flashed.

"Shit," I said.

Then it exploded. The pain was immense and my vision went white from the level of light that just happened when you had a bomb explode literally in your face. My hearing also seemed affected, as all I could was vague calls of my name from Ratchet and some orders being belted out by Epps to his fellow soldiers. I took some supplies from my subsplace quickly, patching things as quickly as I could with the limited information I had. I was interrupted by something biting my arm and I registered it immediately as the bot I had labeled as Ravage.

"You damn cat," I said, grabbing the cat around the middle with my free hand, ignoring the screaming pain. I yanked Ravage away from my arm he was biting even as he scratched and clawed up my arm.

"You think you can beat me, you rotten Autobot?" the feline asked. The voice sounded feminine, but it was hard to tell if it was because the bot was female or it was the ringing in the my audials distorting the still muffled sounds around me.

"I don't think," I said, knowing I just sounded tired. And then slammed Ravage-Maybe-Not-Ravage into the ground as hard as I could. Then I grabbed the remaining rocket that sat on top of their hips and ripped it off of her. I didn't know what else to do with it, not trusting my barely returning sight to get a good aim on the blurr I could see fighting Ratchet while the humans peppered it with distracting bullets. So I subspaced it for now.

Ravage-Maybe-Not-Ravage got up surprisingly fast and moved aside as they leapt at me again. They turned quickly, however, and pounced on me once more. I got my arm up in time to protect my neck from her teeth and claws as my vision cleared just a bit more as my internal systems worked to repair what they could on their own. The force of their pounce caused me to stumble back, tripping over a piece of debris from the first explosion.

What I wouldn't give to be at a remote beach with no one for miles right now, I thought dryly to myself as I fell backwards. I wasn't serious, of course, but it would've been nice not to feel like I was about to die because I rushed into a first mission due to our concerns about the Decepticons getting their greedy claws on too many artifacts.

I was bracing my frame to hit the ground, ready for the impact to wrack me with a fresh wave of pain from my injuries. So when I kept falling, I felt a jolt of surprise and, now that I could see a little more than blur on my opponent, I could see it surprised them too. They started to let go of my arm, clearly meaning to abandon their assault on me and let me fall into the portal that I could see peripherally now, but I grabbed them.

"Not letting you get out of this tussle that easily, kitty," I said as we both fell through.

The cat fought as we fell, but I didn't let them go until we exited and I fell hard onto my back into sand. I bounced some, the force making me let go of the Decepticon and they jumped off me to determine our location. Then they turned toward me and paced threateningly toward me as I got to my pedes.

"Where did you bring us, 'Bot?!" they demanded. I could just make out what they were saying, probably because they were screaming as loud as their vocal processor would allow.

I glanced around. I could make out enough to know we were at a beach. And no humans were around. I connected to the web and checked our coordinates to find we were on a remote island somewhere near Japan. Thankfully it wasn't our remote island. I chose to ignore the fact the Decepticon said I had brought us here for the moment.

"Looks like a beach," I replied with a shrug.

This was clearly not the answer the Decepticon cat was wanting as they became even more irritated. They charged me and this time I transformed, flying up to avoid them. They pounced again and this time I smacked them away with a wing, not without getting a good several scratches on my wing from them for the effort. I flew higher to get out of the cat's range, thinking quickly whether it was worth continuing this fight now that it was outside of the tunnels and far, far away from Manhattan. They could theoretically call for Bridge to return if I left them freely able to move.

The cat was yelling something I could no longer hear well from this distance. It was clear that as long as the Decepticon thought I was still engaged in the fight, they would stay and fight too. That at least kept one fighter out of Ratchet's bubble and away from the humans. So how did I make sure they stayed here, at least for long enough to settle things back in Manhattan, when I leave? Assuming I could figure out how to get back.

Remembering the missile I had subspaced earlier, I pulled it back out, holding it in my talons. All I had to do was figure out how to ensure it hit the target. I flew lower, back toward the cat, but the moment they realized what I had in my talons, they hissed something and started running, darting into the trees.

"Damn it," I muttered, but chased them into them for long enough to be convincing about giving chase. Then, when I was sure they'd gotten a good head start on me, I returned to the beach and subspaced the missile again. I didn't have time to chase a cat around a jungle when they had the clear advantage in hide-and-seek.

I flew along the treeline, looking for signs the cat had doubled-back or was returning in response to me cutting off my pursuit as I turned part of my focus inward. I had to figure out how to return to the tunnels if I was indeed the one who had brought us to this beach to begin with. How had I done it the first time? I had merely had a fleeting thought of wishing to be on a remote beach. If fleeting thoughts were all that triggered it, why hadn't one been opened up before now? Was it also the desperate feeling that I was feeling of wanting to be out of the situation that was likely about to kill me?

I focused heavily on my desire to return to the tunnel and assist Ratchet and the humans. I put some desperation into it and pleaded that a portal open up.

Then one did.

Right in front of me.

Seconds before I flew right into it.

I had enough time in the portal to focus myself and when I exited, I exited talons extended toward the mech Ratchet was fighting as he hovered over the medic—who was pinned on the ground by the mech's pede as he pointed a large gun directly at his spark. He barely had time to look up before I crashed into him, sinking my talons into his shoulder and his gun arm, screeching owl noises. I flapped my wings to forcibly pull him off of Ratchet.

The mech stumbling gave Ratchet enough time to grab his dropped weapon and fire two shots into his shoulder I wasn't dug into. The mech screamed and then moved away, twisting and then transforming as he dropped his gun. I let go of him, landing on the ground in front of Ratchet in a protective stance as the Decepticon drove away, tail between his legs. I stood there, protectively for a long moment until I felt Ratchet's hand on my neck.

"Easy, Shade'," I heard his voice in audials, still muffled but there. "He's gone, they're both gone. You can stand down now."

I looked at him, past my broken visor, past the blurriness that remained, and saw enough of his expression to see it was true. I could also see enough to know he was hurt. I made a noise of worry and nudged him a bit as I lowered my wings, relaxing some.

"Can you transform?" Ratchet asked.

I nodded and he stepped back to give me space to do so. Then we collected the artifact we'd come for as the humans who had stayed behind came to join us to help transport the injured and the bodies of the dead. Ratchet allowed some injured to ride in his ambulance mode with the human medic as well, though only a couple could safely be transported that way. I rode atop one of the vehicles on the way back to the cargo plane, doing my best robotic owl impression I could muster while in pain and under more scrutiny by the public this time. It was harder to ignore an obviously damaged giant robot owl than a non-damaged one, clearly.

I was grateful to be in the privacy of the plane again, and quiet as Ratchet tended to my wounds as best he could before we reached base.

"What happened back there?" Epps asked, walking up while Ratchet was patching my arm the Decepticon cat had torn up. "One moment you were there and then the next you weren't."

I motioned with my free hand in a "I don't know" way.

Epps paused at the silent answer and then shared a look with Ratchet.

"Are your vocs damaged?" Ratchet asked, sounding concerned. He made a motion to touch my neck, but seemed to hesitate, perhaps remembering Bumblebee's.

I shook my helm. Then I took out a datapad and wrote "Emotions are too strong to form sentences right now. A lot just happened to process, it's a little overwhelming. I should be ok in time."

"Ah, I understand," Epps said, patting my pede. "A lot of troops have a hard time with their first missions. And they don't typically get blown up."

I smiled a bit, to show I appreciated his attempt at turning it into a joke and his understanding.

"Do you think you can write what happened?" Epps asked.

And so I did. I wrote exactly how my fight with Ravage-Maybe-Not-Ravage had gone. Which is also how I found out it had indeed not been Ravage at all. Ratchet had gotten enough of a look at the bot to identify the feline as Howlback. A feline Decepticon like Ravage that partnered more often with Barricade—who he'd been fighting.

"More notes for differences in the timeline," I wrote for Ratchet after Epps had left the conversation. "Barricade and Howlback being here."

"I somehow feel there won't be much the same as what you know anymore," Ratchet told me.

I merely nodded as he continued to patch my wounds and ask me what hurt and such and I answered using the writing method.

"Looks like Megatron's beat us here," Arcee said as she peered out from the rocks she and Optimus were hiding behind.

Optimus focused his optics in on the mech for a moment, watching as he gave orders to the multitude of vehicons he had with him. He shifted his attention upward to take in the fact the Nemesis was hovering above. He could hope this meant Shadebreaker and Ratchet would have minimal resistance on their mission to retrieve the Phase Shifter, as well as Bulkhead and Bumblebee for the Forge.

"It would seem Megatron is desperate to keep the Star Saber out of my hands," Optimus observed.

"This might make things difficult with just the two of us," Arcee said. "How do you want to play this?"

Optimus took in each of the troops' location and current activity. It seemed they were in the process of carving out the mountain and hooking it up to the Nemesis. He considered the factors before turning to Arcee with a plan in mind.

Bulkhead grunted as he climbed the side of the mountain they'd identified as the location of the Forge of Solus Prime. Shadebreaker had mentioned a cave, but it turned out through her pictures the cave was merely a backdrop, located high in the mountains near where the relic was buried in the rock.

After they'd been climbing for around a half hour, Bumblebee and Bulkhead finally reached the top. They peered over the top to check for any Decepticons. And Decepticons there were.

"Breakdown," Bulkhead said, watching as the mech chipped away at the rock while his partner examined his digit tips.

Bumblebee whirled in response.

"Heh, yeah," he said in agreement. "They're about to get schooled a second time."

They lifted themselves over the edge and landed with a thud. Bulkhead slammed his fists together.

"Hey Breakdown!" He called. "Wanna rematch?"

Breakdown and Knock-Out shared a look before grinning and moving to meet their opponents for combat.

Steve the Vehicon was hard at work chiseling away at the rock on the edge of the shielding the Star Saber emitted. He heard Megatron urging them to go faster, but it didn't perturb him much—they were going as fast as they could. The drills ran as hard as they could handle and the brute frames added chip damage to the rock with their hammers in places the drills could not reach.

Steve hoped they would be done soon so he could take a break in the oil baths with his fellow Vehicons—Jerry and Tom. None of the Decepticons' regular troops understood why the trio took on names of Earth origin, but they liked them. It made them feel unique in a sea of Vehicons forged to be exactly the same as each other. It was hard being cold constructs treated as nothing but war machines with no identity of your own. It was their way of claiming their own identity.

These were the thoughts on Steve's mind when a sabot round hit a Vehicon nearby him in the back, exploding on impact.

And another.

And another.

Before long, several of Steve's crew were taken out by these human made weapons and he turned to see where they had come from just in time to see one was coming for him too.

"Scrap," Steve said.

Then he was blown up along with his friends.

"What in the Pit is happening?!" Megatron demanded as his mining crew was picked off by an unseen foe. He pointed in the direction the rounds had come from. "Find them!" He ordered the troops.

A group of Vehicons rushed toward the rocky outcropping the rounds had appeared from. Megatron watched with narrowed optics, not sure what to expect to jump out of the rocks.

It certainly wasn't just one Autobot leaping out. The Autobot known as Arcee leapt into the air, peppering the Vehicons with fire that took out several of them with shots that were aimed precisely to their sparks. Then she expertly engaged them in hand-to-hand combat, taking out several that her weapons fire had not while humans—what a surprise—covered her from behind the rocks.

"Interesting," Megatron said, raising an optic ridge.

But he knew this Autobot. He knew she was not the reckless type to jump into a battle where he would be present. Not alone. His optics searched while he calculated. Then they widened and he turned his helm.

"Optimus," he said as he identified the Prime descending the mountain toward the Star Saber, quietly but quickly, spark signature expertly masked. No wonder the first strike had been to take out the miners.

Megatron grinned and took aim with his signature Fusion Canon. His opponent, in the end, was all too predictable.

Then, moments before firing the shot, a warning from his systems alerted him just in time for him to whirl away from a shot fired from behind the outcropping, leaving a round to explode on a Vehicon to his left, blowing a hole in the poor mech's chest.

Growling in frustration, Megatron transformed, flying toward Optimus, who was almost at the Star Saber now. He fired at him, making Optimus pause in his descent to defend himself against his onslaught and fire back with his Ion Blaster with one hand.

Megatron easily veered to avoid Optimus's return fire and then transformed, extending his sword out. With a battle cry, he fell upon Optimus, bearing down on him, their swords clashing with a spray of sparks.

"I should've known you'd be here, Optimus," Megatron said as they both clung to the rock wall while pushing against each other's swords. "The Star Saber is much too tempting a spoil, isn't it?"

"I will not allow you to defile Prima's blade with your tyranny, Megatron," Optimus replied.

Megatron laughed at that before Optimus kicked him away with a strong kick to the chassis.

Optimus leapt from the cliff face to the ground as Megatron flipped through the air to land on the ground. This, Megatron could clearly see, put the librarian at an unfortunate advantageous position.

"You wound me, brother," Megatron said. "Do I not deserve such a trophy for all I've done for Cybertronian kind?" He gestured, placing a hand over his spark. "All I've done is for the benefit of all."

"Tyranny benefits no one, Megatron," Optimus said, pointing at him with one hand while the other reached out and grabbed hold of the hilt of the Star Saber.

Megatron narrowed his optics at the energy that formed around the hilt at Optimus's touch.

"You, of all bots, should know that," Optimus finished. "Perhaps, you need a reminder of where you started."

Megatron raised an optic ridge at that. "Perhaps, librarian, it is you who needs a reminder." He sheathed his sword and then aimed his fusion canon once more.

Optimus jerked the Star Saber once and that was all it took. The Star Saber was free from the mountain it had refused to budge from for Megatron.

And it was glowing.

For the first time in his life, Megatron hesitated. He doubted if he could win this fight. He took quick stock of his army, and the urgency Starscream—and even Soundwave—was calling over comms.

"Decepticons!" He called as Optimus pointed the end of the blade toward him. "Retreat!" He leveled Optimus with a long stare. "For now."

Sparks flew as hammer met wrecking ball over and over in a clash over the Forge of Solus Prime. For every strike Bulkhead landed on Breakdown, the other mech landed one on him.

And Bumblebee seemed to be equally matched against Knock-Out thus far. Every punch or kick Bumblebee landed, Knock-Out returned with gusto.

And then, Knock-Out whipped out the Immobilizer, shocking Bumblebee enough to give him a chance to use it. Knock-Out fired a shot at the scout, but Bumblebee ducked instinctively. Laughing, Knock-Out switched targets, easily landing a hit on Bulkhead.

Bumblebee whirled angrily as his friend froze in place while the Decepticons laughed and chortled. He stepped forward to do something, but Knock-Out pointed the Immobilizer at him while Breakdown threatened to bash Bulkhead's helm in with his hammer.

"Ah-ah," Knock-Out said. "I wouldn't take another step if I were you."

"Yeah, or Bulkhead gets it," Breakdown said.

"Now, you're gonna be a good little scout and let us collect the Forge," Knock-Out told him. "And then we'll let you go free."

Bumblebee whirled angrily, but he motioned that they could go ahead. As Breakdown worked and Knock-Out made sure he stayed in place Bumblebee secretly plotted over comms with the human contingent that wasn't far behind them in the air—courtesy of, and including, Agent Fowler.

"Well, such lovely time working with you 'Bots," Knock-Out said after they had the Forge and were about to disappear through their Ground Bridge. "But now's our time to part ways. Ta-ta!"

Just as Knock-Out was about to enter the Bridge, he was hit by a small explosion on the arm that was holding the Immobilizer, causing him to drop it. He growled and went to reach for it, but was forced to defend himself from a barrage of fire from overhead jets.

"Scrap, just go!" Knock-Out told Breakdown.

The two Decepticons ran through the Bridge with the Forge, but down the Immobilizer.

Bumblebee ran forward to grab the weapon from the ground and examine it. He didn't know much about the weapon other than it was a Wheeljack original. He knew Ratchet would know how to fix Bulkhead, though. They just had to figure out how to get Bulkhead back to base.

Chapter Text

Chapter 6: Aftermath 

Getting everyone back to base turned out a lot easier than expected. The discovery that Shadebreaker could open portals was going to be vastly useful until they got their Ground Bridge built and operational again. Assuming she agreed to transport them around on the regular and it didn't prove too much on her.

"You did well to recover the Immobilizer so we could unfreeze Bulkhead, Bumblebee," Optimus praised his scout, placing his hand on the Praxian's shoulder. "Do not worry about the loss of the Forge. I feel we do not need to immediately fear Megatron's possession of it."

Bumblebee whirled his appreciation of his words.

Optimus turned to take stock of his team. Ratchet was monitoring Bulkhead as the mech tested his mobility after being returned to normal while Arcee observed. Ratchet himself was sporting some healing injuries from a battle he'd been in.

Optimus frowned when he realized the absence of one of the team. He looked again at Bumblebee. "Where is Shadebreaker?"

Bumblebee shrugged, whirling quizzically.

"She slipped out while you were debriefing Bumblebee," Ratchet said, having heard him. "She's…having a hard time right now."

"What happened?" Arcee asked.

Ratchet paused, clearly weighing his words. "I can't say for certain of the trigger for her behavior," he said. "She hasn't said a word since she returned from wherever she disappeared to the first time she portalled. She answered some questions through writing, but I made her stop cause it was hurting her hands. I can tell you everything I saw and give you my hypothesis."

Optimus listened to Ratchet explain what happened in Manhattan with a solemn spark. The loss of human life saddened him greatly. It saddened him even more to hear the already quiet femme was falling more into herself just as she had been making progress to opening up.

"I believe she may be blaming herself for the death of the humans," Ratchet said softly. "Like she does Cliffjumper."

"She blames herself for Cliff?" Arcee asked. "But that wasn't her fault. I mean, even if what she said about knowing how he died in some other reality is true…how does that connect to what happened being her fault? I was there. She couldn't have moved any faster, especially given her condition. No one would've expected her to do more than stay alive in that scenario."

Ratchet sighed, looking frustrated. "That's what I told her," he said, sounding frustrated. "I think having the knowledge she does she feels a burden to prevent as many bad things from happening as she can, so each time one happens, she feels like she has failed. That's the impression I get, anyways. She's eager to make a difference and is grappling with the fact that for all of her knowledge there's only so much she can do."

"And what gives you that impression?" Bulkhead asked, rubbing his helm. He hadn't really talked to the new femme much so Optimus wasn't surprised he was confused by Ratchet's assumptions.

"She reminds me of Optimus in the early days of the war," Ratchet replied. "Always burdened with every decision, every life lost, pouring over every scrap of information."

"Optimus is still like that," Arcee said, lightly teasing.

"Difference is, Optimus has the experience, and the Matrix, to help shoulder those burdens," Ratchet said. "I'm worried Shadebreaker may break under them. Her muteness worries me. She was just starting to come out of her shell before our mission to Manhattan. This is why I didn't want her to go. I fear rushing into her first mission may have been too much for her."

Optimus listened to his team talk and considered their viewpoints and what he knew of their newest member. He had his own suspicions of what was troubling her. Not necessarily instead of Ratchet's theories, but on top of.

"Ratchet," Optimus said, breaking into a silence that had settled as the team contemplated what to do. "Did you tell Shadebreaker your discovery from when you tested her nanobots?"

Ratchet looked caught and he couldn't look him in the optic. "I-" he cut himself off. "Not yet, Optimus. I…wanted to find out more."

Optimus gave him a look that read clearly as "I'm disappointed in you." Then he turned. "I'm going to find Shadebreaker and talk to her," he said, not missing the way Ratchet flinched and looked down.

Optimus left the tent to the sounds of the team quizzing Ratchet about what he meant. The question had two purposes. One was to inform himself if Shadebreaker even knew where her portals may have come from. The other was to let Ratchet know the relation wasn't classified amongst their team. Everyone on their team currently were bots he knew could be trusted with this information and he knew Shadebreaker was going to need the support of these trusted bots.

Stepping out of the tent, Optimus looked around, but did not see Shadebreaker anywhere around. There were some humans gathered around outside the human tent, however, gathering some more things that were being moved to the parts of the human quarters that were completed. He moved toward them and they immediately took notice of his approach, coming to attention and saluting.

"At ease, soldiers," Optimus said, finding it strange not for the first time to be commanding such small beings. He crouched down to be more at their level. "Have any of you seen Shadebreaker?"

The soldiers all shared a look, questioning each other silently before one of them looked up at him and shrugged. "Sorry big man," he said. "Most of us just got here. We haven't seen any of you bots leave or enter your tent till you."

"I understand," Optimus said. "Thank you, for your time."

He stood back up and considered this. Then, he decided to take the easiest route and commed her.

.:Shadebreaker, where are you?:.

The reply came not in words, but a set of coordinates. Optimus recognized it immediately as the location of the bot designated beach. Moving away from the humans, he transformed and then drove off in the direction where he'd find the femme.

When Optimus came close to the beach, he transformed back in bipedal mode at the crest of the hill. He looked over at the beach to see if he could see Shadebreaker and there she was.

Her back was to him as she stared out at the water, standing pedes shoulder width apart with her arms wrapped behind her back, bandaged hands clasping her forearms just under where her wings connected to her chassis. Her wings were held low compared to their usual set, as were her shoulders. He could see where one of them was patched from a wound she'd sustained and he could see bandages peeking out from under her armor. Evidence, even from this angle, of the damage she had sustained protecting the humans from further loss.

He approached her, careful to make sure she would be able to sense him so she wouldn't be startled. His spark felt heavy at the way she shrank a little, as if expecting him to lay into her with his words, or, perhaps, with his fists—it was hard to tell.

"Shadebreaker," Optimus started as he took up a spot next to her, gazing out at the ocean with her.

She flinched at his voice and he realized if he drew it out the more she would suffer.

"You did well today," he said softly.

She hesitated, as if afraid if she looked at him he would take it back. Or maybe she was waiting for a but. When he said nothing more for a long moment she finally peeked up at him in perplexion. She had truly been waiting to hear him chew her out. Ratchet was right, then. She blamed herself for the humans. And she expected him to blame her as well.

"If it were not for your quick action, we would've lost more than we did today," Optimus replied. "You were willing to sacrifice your well-being to keep the humans safe and, from my understanding, without you, we may be down our medic as well."

Shadebreaker's mouth had fallen open and her uncovered optics—Optimus assumed her visor needed repairs—were wide and perplexed. They darted from one side to another rapidly as she processed his words and her thoughts in rapid succession. He gave her time, seeing that despite how much weight she'd given his words thus far she was still having a hard time.

"But…without me…none of them would've been in danger in the first place," Shadebreaker said quietly.

Optimus's spark hurt for her at those words. He knew that feeling all too well. And he knew why she felt that way. She had argued for the humans' right to choose to join the fight for their own planet. She was the carrier of the information that led the Decepticons to those tunnels. She was the one who asked to be put on that mission so a third relic would not end up in Decepticons' hands as a "freebie" as one of the humans had put it. And it proved Ratchet right even more, about just how much she was like how he was at the start of the war. Taking responsibility for that which was not his fault.

"Did you start this war, Shadebreaker?" Optimus asked, deciding to take a page out of Ratchet's book.

Shadebreaker shuddered and Optimus could see tears welling up in her optics before she forcefully turned her face away from him, looking down at where the waves met the sand.

Optimus did not press her for an answer. He could see she was struggling to accept that she didn't need to shoulder responsibility for what was lost simply because she had argued for the humans' right to choose. Simply for the fact that her existence in this reality had put everyone at risk because the Decepticons had gotten ahold of her information.

Shadebreaker closed her optics and brought her arms around to wrap around her midsection in front her. As if to guard herself from her emotional turmoil within. Or from the turmoil without. "I certainly didn't help it stop." She said bitterly.

"Shadebreaker," Optimus said. "If I have not been able to stop it in millenia, why would you be able to stop it in a few short months?"

"I don't know," Shadebreaker said forcefully, yet somehow still quietly. Optimus got the impression getting any sound out at all was an active struggle for her, but because he was Prime she felt she had to. "I don't know Optimus. I have all this information. I should be able to do something with it." Her voice was angry now, despite the quietness. "But because the 'Cons got it first all I can do is damage control and it's not fair." She put the heels of her palms against her optics as if it would stop the flow of tears now flooding from her optics. "I lost everything and I can't even use my knowledge to help you stop a fucking war that could've been avoided if Megatron wasn't such a fragging idiot that he couldn't accept not being the one on top. All I can do is try to mitigate as much bad as I can and I can't even do that right cause every time I'm in a battle scenario someone dies."

The crux of the matter. She'd confided in Ratchet that she felt like everytime she turned around she was losing. This must feel like a continuation of that, then. She arrived. She saw a chance dangle in front of her to save someone she knew would die, only for that chance to be ripped from her immediately. Then she argued for the humans a choice. And then she watched humans die as a result of that choice without her being able to stop it. And she almost watched Ratchet die. From what Ratchet said, she had gone pretty feral on Barricade and it had taken quite a bit of soothing tones to calm her out of that state.

"You saved Ratchet," Optimus reminded her. "Without you, he would be offline."

"Without me, he wouldn't have been on that mission," Shadebreaker argued.

Optimus resisted the urge to grind his teeth. Where was the Shadebreaker who took his words seriously? Why was she so determined to dismiss him? He watched her as she shuddered and sobbed silently, rubbing at her optics angrily. Then it hit him that he had not seen her cry the whole time she'd been here. Despite everything she'd been through, this was the first time he'd seen her cry and she was still obviously fighting it and just couldn't anymore. Not after having talked to him. She was fighting him so hard because she was so deep in grief she was incapable of listening to him. It was grief for the lost humans piled upon the grief she had not yet alllowed herself to feel over what she had already lost.

Optimus reached out a hand and didn't stop despite how she recoiled at the movement. His spark hurt to know she expected pain from him, but he had to show her she was safe. And he couldn't do that if he left her like this, if he abandoned her. Some bots required him to respect that recoil, but he could feel the Matrix guiding him to push forward. His hand made contact with her shoulder and her reaction took a turn for the opposite. Instead of recoiling away, she practically fell into him, seeking comfort as a sparkling would from their creator after a hard day.

He was surprised by this, but he couldn't say he was displeased. Not very many bots were comfortable actively seeking out physical touch from him, he reflected as he wrapped his arms around her as he would Bumblebee when the mech needed comfort. In fact, Bumblebee, sweet mech that he was, might be the only bot brave enough to get a hug from Optimus without so much as a word without first being invited in for one. He somehow doubted Shadebreaker would normally just hug him on impulse, but she was in a very vulnerable state at the moment and a hug is what she needed.

"Ssshhh," Optimus soothed, rubbing her arms gently as she sobbed.

It was then he noticed the texture from scratches on her arms. They were superficial, barely marking the armor, but they were fresh based off the fact some of her paint fell away as he rubbed her arms. His spark hurt at this revelation. He didn't know if she'd intentionally done it or if it was a nervous habit, but it was something he'd have to talk to her about.

He stood there, holding her and saying soothing things for sometime, however. The harder conversations could wait until she'd gotten her grief out. It was long overdue for her to do so and he felt he had failed her for not seeing sooner that she had not been allowing herself to feel it for so long. He sent a quick reply when Ratchet sent a worried message his way that he was with Shadebreaker and they were working through it.

Eventually, the sobs subsided and Shadebreaker shifted. Optimus loosened his hold on her as she moved away for a moment, looking a bit perplexed. She looked up at him cautiously and he looked back with a gentle, understanding look.

"Sorry," she apologized, rubbing one last tear from her optic as she moved away.

"Don't be," Optimus said, letting his arms fall to his sides.

She looked frustrated. "I am, though," she said. "You're Prime. You got more important things to do than provide comfort for a screw up like me."

"Is that what you think about yourself?" Optimus asked.

Shadebreaker opened her mouth and for a moment Optimus thought she about to argue or make a snide remark. That's what her expression said. But it was only a moment before that expression fell and she sighed, looking down. "I guess," she said, looking like she was just noticing. "I thought I'd gotten past it…but I guess what happened must've dragged those feelings back." She rubbed her arms, lightly scratching for half a moment before stopping herself and just holding her arm instead.

"I can assure you that you are not," Optimus said. "Like I said, Ratchet would be offline if not for you. A screw up, as you put it, would not have been able to save him. Nor would a screw up have been able to stop that missile from taking more human lives than the first one did. Ratchet tells me you knew where Howlback was before anyone else."

"I heard her," Shadebreaker said quietly, shrugging slightly. "Faintly. But I did. I've gathered over the time I've been here my hearing is more sensitive than the rest of yours. It's a little weird. I'm not used to being the one with sensitive hearing." She gave him a slightly amused smile, but he could tell it was covering her pain.

Optimus nodded. "Regardless, you acted on that input well," he told her, reaching out and placing a hand on her shoulder. "Do not be so consumed with failures that you miss your victories."

Shadebreaker looked away again, thinking and Optimus could see that she was weighing his words with a clearer helm this time. Then she sighed. "I suppose you are right," she said. Then she sighed, shaking her helm and running a hand over her face. "Who am I kidding? You're Optimus. You're right 99.9% of the time."

Optimus blinked. If only. He thought to himself.

Shadebreaker looked out at the ocean and then peeked up at him. "You…you really aren't mad at me?"

Optimus blinked at her.

"Or disappointed?" Shadebreaker asked. She flinched a little, wings shifting. "You're not just waiting for me to be ok enough that you think I can handle a lecture?"

Optimus blinked again. "Do you…think you need a lecture?"

Shadebreaker shrugged. "I don't know," she said. "I convinced you to let the humans fight with us. Despite knowing you didn't like it, I still argued for it. And, as a result, humans died. And…it's not like I didn't know it was a possibility. Like….this is war. Death happens." Saying that seemed to physically hurt her to her core and she rubbed her chest over her spark.

"But, like," she continued. "I suppose it's different knowing and experiencing. Which I should've known already, but…yeah…but mainly, I expected a lecture about the value of human lives or something, about how reckless and naive it had been to argue for their involvement."

Optimus considered this for a long time. He watched her while he thought and noticed she looked anxious and uncomfortable. It almost reminded him of Starscream when he was cowering under Megatron, except she wasn't quite cowering away from him. He didn't like the comparison all the same.

"Shadebreaker," he said and she flinched again, though not as strongly as before. "Is a lecture all you are expecting?" He kept his tone gentle, careful.

Her optics widened slightly and she took a step away from him as if by asking he'd unlocked a new fear. He felt like kicking himself. "I- yes?"

Optimus made a calming motion with his hand. "I'm not going to hurt you," he told her. He held his hands out to her, palm up and then motioned her back. "You just seem so frightened I needed to know."

Shadebreaker looked at his face, locking onto his optics and searching them. She stepped back toward him, arms in front of her as if guarding. "I…struggle with lectures," she said quietly. "They've been…preludes to traumatic things in the past. So I guess it's not all I was expecting ultimately, just all in the moment."

"I understand," Optimus said. "But know you are safe here and if I ever do need to give you a lecture, it will not be a prelude to worse. You will always be treated with respect and dignity."

Shadebreaker teared up again and she wiped some tears away.

"As for if you need a lecture now," he continued. "I do not believe so. You argued out of a good place. You sympathize with the humans because Earth is your home, too. You value freedom and you felt by denying them the ability to get involved I was denying them their freedom to choose. I could've chosen not to listen to your arguments."

"Why didn't you?" Shadebreaker asked, sounding sad, but also curious.

"In part because we needed human help on at least one of the artifacts that I knew of," Optimus replied. "But also because I realized you were right. I thought about how we Autobots would've felt if another, larger race had arrived on Cybertron and denied us the opportunity to protect ourselves in the same scenario, had we been used to having freedom. And I concluded that we could be unintentionally creating some ill-will among some of the humans by denying them that choice and that could end up 'biting us in the butt someday' as you put it."

Shadebreaker half grinned at that, though the amusement didn't quite reach her optics. "Well, I guess I have a better way with words than I thought," she said. Then her grin fell and she sighed. "Still, though…I can't get those lives back. I feel like I failed them."

"Such are the realities of war," Optimus said. "And command. I fear there will be a great many more casualties before this is over."

"Gross," Shadebreaker said, rubbing her arm. She didn't scratch this time.

Optimus reached out slowly, carefully taking her arm into his hand and lifting it. He held it up with one hand and ran the other over a scratch mark. "Tell me about this."

Shadebreaker flinched, but sighed. "I, um," she said, looking embarrassed. "I might've been a little…emotional…and sometimes when I'm highly emotional I scratch a little." Her wings shifted at his hard stare. "Not with the intention to hurt myself or anything like that. I've only ever left marks before when it was scratching an itch. I just…didn't realize…" She held her free hand up and Optimus realized what she meant.

"The edges of your digits are sharper than you expected," he finished.

Shadebreaker nodded. "As a human, the use of my nails was just a touch more solid of a feeling than my fingertips or I would just use pressure with my fingertips, but again, I would never leave marks. It was about the pressure, not pain. I slept with a weighted blanket a lot if I slept alone, especially if there were no animals either. Just a little pressure to keep focused on the present or to keep grounded or whatever the present need is. I won't tell you I've never been tempted, but I've done my darnedest to avoid going that route for coping. I've seen enough lives be self-destructed to know the dangers of that door."

Optimus nodded in understanding. "If this is too much for you," he said. "If the burden of war and death is too much, I can assign you as Ratchet's apprentice and you won't have to go on any missions. Or, if you don't want to be a medic, we can find something else for you."

Shadebreaker shook her helm. "I don't want to be relegated to the sidelines, Optimus," she said. "This is just new to me and I already had a bunch going on that I wasn't allowing myself to process. Ratchet was right. It was too fast for a first mission. Just…well. We're here now. In the end, we got the Phase Shifter. So success, I guess." She shrugged. "Not sidelined, but I do think training is in order. I was flying by the seat of my pants, as the humans say. I'm sure eventually my knack for surviving things that should kill me is gonna stop just working. Can't just rely on luck forever."

"Indeed," Optimus agreed. "I will speak to the others. For now, there's a very worried medic waiting for us to return. And there's more conversation to be had. There's some information that you should know."

Shadebreaker gave him a curious look at that, even as they both moved away from the water. "Can I ask? Or are we waiting until we're back with the others?"

"We will wait," Optimus replied.

Shadebreaker shifted her wings uncertainly. She looked like she might cry again for a moment before she gusted air through her systems. Optimus did not know what she thought she had that had brought on the near tears, but she clearly pushed it to the side, dismissing it. "Ok," she said. "I'm trusting you a lot, you know?"

"I know," Optimus said. He reached over and rubbed her shoulder. "And I hope you will see that that trust is not misplaced."

"I do as well," Shadebreaker said quietly.

They made their way back to the Autobot tent in silence. It wasn't an uncomfortable one, however. Optimus could sense that their talk had brought some level of peace back to Shadebreaker. Her volume had come back to a normal level by her last sentence and she was carrying herself with more confidence again. She looked less withdrawn as they walked and more observant of their surroundings, listening to the sounds of nature and watching as the island birds flew overhead. Occasionally she would wave at a human who called out to them as they walked, greeting a couple by name that must've been on the mission with her.

The others all looked up when they entered the tent and Optimus got the feeling they all released a held breath when they saw Shadebreaker didn't appear down in the dumps anymore.

"Welcome back," Arcee said as they approached. "Nice job getting the Phase Shifter." She nudged Shadebreaker with her shoulder.

"Oh, you know," Shadebreaker said, making a motion with her hand. She opened her mouth and then seemed to forget what she was gonna say. So she shrugged. "Mission success?"

Arcee chuckled at the fact she had obviously tried to act with bravado but was not used to such an act.

"I see you're speaking again," Ratchet said, voice filled with relief. He looked a bit hesitant, as if bringing it up might make her stop again.

Shadebreaker's smile wavered slightly, but didn't quite go away. "Yeah," she rubbed her arm a bit. "Optimus and I talked. It helped. I'm still not feeling great, but I'll be ok. I knew things were going to be rough when I signed on. It's war, after all. Knowing and experiencing are just two different ball games. It's gonna be some adjusting. And some grace with myself I was not giving myself."

Arcee reached out and placed a hand on her arm. "No one blames you," she said. "So don't blame yourself."

Shadebreaker placed a hand over Arcee's and gusted air through her systems, closing her optics. She was silent for a moment as if soaking in her words. "Thank you, Arcee. I think I really needed to hear that from you."

"I know," Arcee said.

She looked up at Optimus and he gave her a nod. It was as they had suspected and Arcee extending the same words he had gave Shadebreaker permission to stop blaming herself for Cliffjumper. It was a step in the right direction.

"Now, there's something you should know about yourself," Optimus said. "Ratchet."

Shadebreaker shifted her wings curiously and turned to look at the medic as he sighed. Then Ratchet went on to explain the same thing he had told Optimus that day after her first awakening, when she had first warned them the Decepticons might know their location.

"I didn't tell you before now, because I wanted more information first," Ratchet said with a sigh. "I was hoping something would come along to tell us something."

"What could've come along?" Shadebreaker asked, a slight bite in her tone. Then she seemed to realize that she reacted in anger and stopped, closing her optics and gusting air. "Sorry, I…shouldn't snap." She shook her helm. "I get it, I just…" She sighed, rubbing her forehead. "You agreed to tell me and then didn't. That sorta thing is…triggering…it brings up feelings related to S-" She cut herself off before saying a name and looked highly frustrated. "Damn it. Whatever. I just….don't give me excuses, Ratchet. Just….don't keep things from me if you guys agree I should know cause it could affect me in ways I should have a say in again? Please?" Her wings lowered and her optics were misty with emotion. There was a lot of pain and hurt in her optics in that moment. She was practically begging for honesty from him in the future and it spoke to how many times she must've been lied to in the past.

Ratchet looked very regretful. "I'm sorry, Shadebreaker," he said. "Truly. I didn't keep it from you to hurt you. I hope you know that. And I promise I will not do such a thing again."

Shadebreaker stared at him, optics searching and troubled. Optimus could sense the turmoil within and how it calmed a little when Arcee placed a hand on her arm again. She sighed.

"Ok, Ratchet," Shadebreaker finally said, relenting. "I forgive you."

Ratchet sighed, seeing easily that he had broken some of the trust he had built with her. Her walls were back up, but Optimus believed they would come down again. He knew Ratchet would not repeat this mistake seeing how much it affected her.

"Is this…relation to Vector Prime…the reason I have these….portals?" Shadebreaker asked, looking at her hands, likely remembering opening them to transport them all.

"It's very likely," Ratchet replied. "While there are outlier Cybertronians with special powers, none have had such powers to open portals except Vector Prime. And, if I had to hazard a guess, the relation is likely daughter rather than sister. He would've passed the power onto you. Though, I suppose sister would still make sense, I would've expected you to be among the number of the Thirteen if you were a sister."

"And you really don't think it has to do with the nanobots? The Thirteen are mysterious," Shadebreaker pointed out. "Such has been used as a plot point by fanfiction writers for years."

Optimus somehow got the impression she was thinking of one writer in particular when she said that. He wasn't sure why, though.

"Very sure," Ratchet said dryly. "If it would make you feel better, I could run some test with my energon."

Shadebreaker waved her hands in front of her. "No, no," she said. "No turning yourself into a test subject." She pointed a stern finger at him. "Ever. Period. Nada. Capice?"

Ratchet raised an optic ridge at her urgency about it while Optimus suppressed a chuckle and the other bots did chuckle about it.

"Okaayyy," Ratchet said uncertainly, not sure where this weird overprotective behavior had come from suddenly. It was clear she wasn't just talking about running tests on his energon, but he had no idea what else she could be referring to.

Shadebreaker sighed, rubbing her forehead not for the first time in this conversation. "So many questions this brings up," she said. "Starting with, but not limited to, is the relation because of what Shockwave did. And if not, then a slew of other questions."

"Answers we may never know," Arcee said sympathetically.

"The information hoarder in me trembles in horror at the very thought," Shadebreaker said dryly, clearly making a joke of it to Optimus and Ratchet, but his bots weren't as familiar with her dry humor yet.

Arcee pat her arm sympathetically, despite not fully understanding her words. Bumblebee whirled in empathy for her and gave her a hug while Bulkhead looked mildly confused, but expressed support as well.

Shadebreaker looked mildly amused at their reactions, but also touched and appreciative. She returned Bumblebee's hug gently, lightly touched Arcee's arm in return with a grateful look and gave Bulkhead a wide smile that almost turned into a grin when his own smile widened. She looked a little awkward afterward, as if she wasn't used to so much positive attention being on her, or maybe any attention at all, but she didn't retreat when Bumblebee invited her to play videogames with him and Raf, albeit she had to have Bulkhead translate for her.

"Well, that didn't go so badly," Ratchet said as they watched the four bots leave the tent to go hang out with the human children for a little while before getting back to work. "And Shade's even finally doing something besides work."

"Indeed, Ratchet," Optimus said.

Then Ratchet sighed. "I just hope I can repair her trust with me," he said. "I really messed up there."

Optimus placed a hand on his shoulder. "I believe she will trust you again, old friend." He told him. "For I do not believe you will repeat your actions that broke it today."

"No," Ratchet agreed. "I won't."

Chapter Text

Chapter 7: A Day in the Life

Early morning was perhaps my favorite time of day. The only other bot who seemed to wake up with the sun was Optimus and sometimes we would work in companionable silence, but often he would disappear from the tent to patrol the base. At least, on a day no one else was required to be up at the crack of dawn. I suspected there would be less crack of dawn departures now that we had a more immediate form of transportation. Though others would still take dawn patrol, I was sure.

This morning was different. While I had more work to do pinpointing artifacts, I had made a list and was chipping away at it, this morning had been designated specifically toward doing some proper combat training, which had started shortly after I had recovered from my mission to Manhattan. This wouldn't be my first training session, albeit, it was the first one to take place so early in the morning. No one was awake yet to do it, but I still had left the tent to the practice field to do some stuff on my own.

I gusted air through my systems slowly as I moved through some old forms I had learned many years ago, when I had been a teenager on the cusp of adulthood taking karate classes. I had felt the need to learn how to defend myself as I had started to attract the attention of the wrong kind of men —men much older than me who had no business looking at a 16-17 year old and trying to convince her to partake in sexual pleasures with them. I had been sheltered, but somehow not naive enough to believe I would never have to potentially fight someone over it. The lessons had paid off eventually and perhaps they played a part in why I wasn't dead now.

That was a slightly troubling thought to have when I was trying to calm my mind from its tendency to be anxious whenever there was a reason to be anxious. So I shifted my thoughts to focus solely on my movements, pulling from my memories the katas I had learned and wishing not for the first time in my life that I had been able to complete the training course all the way to the end. That was a dangerous line of thought, too, so I shut it out.

It was hard keeping my mind quiet without the help of music. I remembered Bulkhead playing music while in bot mode for Miko once in the show and wondered if I could do that. Even if I could, I didn't know how. So for now I just kept having to pull my mind off its straying paths back to what I was doing with my body. 

The sunrise was mildly distracting. The thoughts of how nice it would've been to share it with my sister over a cup of tea were more so. When the sun hit the clouds just right to put a purple hue on a cloud, I paused my movements to appreciate it. And mourn for a moment the absence of the one who instilled that appreciation so deeply within me. I doubted I would ever not feel that pain, but someday it might be easier to bear.

I wiped my optics as the sensors in wings picked up Optimus’s presence approaching. Coming this way on his morning patrol, presumably. I cycled air through my systems as I let myself feel the emotion instead of fighting it like I had previously done. Then, I imagined it leaving my body with the air as I gusted it out. As I remembered it being described in a Star Wars book once when a Jedi Master was guiding their pupil about emotions and then again when I learned Conscious Discipline. Such useful things the Jedi had, it turned out.

Optimus approached me shortly after I had my emotions back to a stable place. I looked up at him.

“Mornin’ Boss Bot,” I said, having taken a more casual tone with him since that day on the beach. And he had allowed it. I suspected it reminded him of Jazz and perhaps he missed having someone around who treated him as something besides just a Prime.

“Shadebreaker,” Optimus greeted. “Enjoying the sunrise?”

“What’s left of it,” I answered, motioning toward the sun that was almost over the horizon now. The purple hue was lingering, but was slowly being replaced by the yellow light typically seen past the sunrise. “And reminiscing a little while I practice some old katas I once learned. My sister would've had me sitting and drinking tea to enjoy it with rather than working, but…I never claimed to have healthy habits. She was the one good about things like that. I was the one who got up and went and never quite learned how to start a day slowly. Even if I do know there's merit to it.”

“I didn't know you had a sister,” Optimus said.

“It’s not exactly like I've told you any of my life story,” I said dryly. “Just small hints at some of my trauma.” I spread my fingers out, moving hands out in an arch as if making a rainbow. “I had a brother, too. And a mom. And a grandma.”

“No father?” Optimus asked.

“Not an involved one,” I replied with a shrug. “Divorced when I was young. Abandoned when I was a little older.” I shrugged a little. “I had a couple people I adopted as father figures, though.”

Optimus chuckled a bit. “Do the parental figures not do the adopting on Earth?”

“Hmm, well, officially, yes,” I replied. “But this was nothing legal. And a couple of them even adopted me back.”

Optimus chuckled again.

I grinned at that, glad to bring a couple chuckles to the Autobot leader.

“I must continue my patrol, but it is nice to see you in good spirits,” Optimus said, placing a hand on my shoulder.

“You too,” I replied. 

I watched Optimus leave for a minute, wondering for a moment if Elita-1 existed in this reality and, if so, where she might be. If she did, Optimus probably missed her as much as I missed my fiancée. At least he had a chance of seeing her again, though. The only chance I had was if similar happened to him and I didn't want that for him. 

I sighed at that thought and looked back at the fleeting sunrise—it was but a few minutes away from being over. There I go. Ruining those good spirits with thoughts as fast as the remaining colors on the clouds.

I went back to my katas and breathing to refind my center. Trying not to think about how my fiancée probably felt. If he was alive. If my movements were a little more violent and angry than before, there was no one here to notice anyways.

It was midday when I returned to the tent, tired and sore from a long and hard training with Arcee and Bumblebee. Bulkhead and Optimus had also joined but only for me to send them off to investigate the location of the Spark Extractor. They had not returned yet but neither had they called for backup.

“Welcome back,” Ratchet said. He looked me over. “You didn't consume any Energon this morning, did you? Your Energon levels are extremely low.”

“Um,” I said, scratching my cheek a bit.

“Shadebreaker,” Arcee said firmly. “Do you mean to tell me we just did a long and hard training session on a low tank?”

“Mmmaayyybbbeee?” I said, wings shifting.

Ratchet made a noise of frustration while Arcee gave me a withering glare. She looked at Ratchet and then back at me and seemed to weigh her options. Then she waved a hand. 

“Good luck with Ratchet,” she said and then walked out of the tent. She had joined me in order to have Ratchet give her some pain killers, but clearly she wasn't in enough pain to stick around for his wrath.

I peeked over at Ratchet and knew from his look that I was in for a lecture. Strongly worded and firm as hell. My wings lowered and I bowed my helm. 

“I hope you don't make a habit of skipping meals,” Ratchet said sternly, crossing his arms.

“Only breakfast, and only sometimes,” I replied quietly.

I heard Ratchet shift and chanced a peek at him to see he had uncrossed his arms and was looking at me. He sighed and moved toward where we kept the Energon cubes right now, up and safe from potential mishaps with humans who entered the tent.

“Even so, you shouldn't be skipping any,” he said, his tone less harsh.

“I know, Ratchet,” I said. “I don't usually. I wake up extremely early and I usually time how long I'm awake before grabbing breakfast. When I was human, my body wouldn't accept food until I'd been awake for so many hours, so it's a habit born out of that. If I left home before those hours passed, it just meant I went without breakfast and, if I could, had a snack at some point before lunch. Eventually it became I had to have that snack whether I had breakfast or not, so…” I shrugged a little, accepting the cube he'd brought me as I spoke without looking at him. 

“It became a careful timing and balancing act for when and how much I ate each time at that point.” I continued. “I couldn't eat if I wasn't hungry, but I had to eat within a certain time of bedtime or I'd wake up feeling bad from going too long without food and then have to wait even longer to eat or I'd just throw it back up. Yet if I waited too long, I'd throw up cause my body reacted so terribly to going without. I found out the hard way once. Carefully monitored my habits ever since. This morning was a slip up, that's all. I usually sit and work on the artifact locations or learning Cy-Stan in the mornings and I went to the practice field to get a headstart on battle practice and watch the sunrise instead, since my training was earlier in the day than usual. I forgot about breakfast cause I went and changed my routine.” 

I look into the energon in the cube, looking at the little flakes of minerals Ratchet had apparently mixed in it. I hadn't expected that. It was a nice touch. Thoughtful. Kind. It made me think of my fiancée again. The little thoughtful gestures he did when I needed food now but he still wanted me to enjoy it. Damn it. Now I was about to cry again.

Scratch that. I was crying.

“Shade’...” Ratchet said, sounding surprised and troubled. “I-I didn't…” He looked confused as I wiped my optics.

“It’s not you,” I said. “You didn't make me cry. I mean…you did, but you didn't? It's not your fault I mean.”

Ratchet looked confused, then he reached out and wiped a tear from the cheek I wasn't already wiping. “Bad memories?” He asked softly.

I leaned a bit into his touch. It was gentle and soothing. Like his had been. More tears fell. I couldn’t help it. “N-no,” I said. “Good ones. Your little touch with the energon, the minerals for taste,” I held the cube up a bit. “It just reminded me of my fiancée.”

“Fiancée?” Ratchet asked.

I looked up, intending to explain, but I recognized the faraway look on his face as him being internally connected to the internet to do so himself.

“Oh,” he said as his optics brightened, the small movements of his thumb on my cheek pausing. “Oh…” He looked heartbroken for me. “I'm so sorry.” His hand dropped from my cheek.

“Don’t be,” I said, taking his hand in my free one before it fell completely to his side. “Don’t be. They are good memories, even if it hurts that they are just memories now.” I gusted air through my systems. “I appreciate the gesture. Don't stop doing small, kind gestures. They help. They're reassuring. Even if it doesn't seem like it right now. I'm doing way better right now than I expected to when I saw how upset you were I skipped breakfast.”

“I'm glad,” Ratchet said. He rubbed his thumb over the back of my hand. “We will navigate how to handle your eating habits together, alright?”

“Alright,” I said, grateful. “First I should probably just try having breakfast when I wake up.”

“First you drink that cube before I shove it down your throat for you,” Ratchet gruffed.

He wasn't quite as gentle as my fiancée had been.

“Alright, geez,” I said, though I found myself more amused than intimated.  

Maybe because I knew he didn't mean it. At least, I didn't think he did. He might give it to me via IV, though. I let go of his hand to focus on my energon. I took a sip and was surprised just how good it tasted. I looked at it with admiration.

“I do know more than just medicine and building Ground Bridges,” Ratchet said, looking amused.

“Well,” I said. “Isn't that something?” I took another sip, feeling myself melt a little bit. 

Ratchet shook his helm at me as he moved away to do some work. I just stood there, entirely focused on the delicious energon. Fanfiction writers speculated that energon could be made more delicious with minerals sprinkled in, but I never imagined I would ever discover it to be true and get to experience it myself. My wings gave a happy little flutter as I sipped at it again.

I had moved from standing around drinking my energon to working some more on pinpointing where more of the artifacts were when Optimus called for pick up. I didn't even look up when I lifted a hand to open a portal for them to come home through.

Optimus and Bulkhead came through and that's when I looked up to check on them as my portal closed. They both sported minor injuries and Bulkhead looked tired. Nothing readily stood out as to the reason they were gone so long without even calling for backup. Bulkhead even appeared to be holding the artifact in question in his hand.

“You guys were gone for a while,” I commented carefully. My wings shifted. Ratchet had stepped out, leaving me alone. If this wasn't them somehow and were shape shifters who had gotten the comcode…

“Your location was a little off,” Bulkhead said, a little defensive. “And then the ‘Cons showed up and gave us the run around.”

“Off?” I asked and then pushed some of my datapads aside, looking for the ones with the information still pulled up about the Spark Extractor. I took my information gathering skills seriously and being wrong was an affront. “But… off? ” I repeated.

“At ease, Shadebreaker,” Optimus said, likely seeing how I was getting worked up. “It was only off by a small margin. And we were still able to retrieve the Extractor.” He motioned to the device in Bulkhead's hand.

“Yeah, no need to freak out,” Bulkhead said. “I didn't mean to sound angry. I thought you were grilling us.”

My wings shifted. “I was concerned is all,” I replied. “But if I was off, I did something wrong in my calculations. I apologize. I will do better with the rest.”

I didn't look up, but I had heard Optimus approaching my work space, so it didn't entirely startle me when he placed his hand on my shoulder, but I still jumped a little.

“I am sure you will, Shadebreaker,” he said. “You have been extraordinarily accurate in the locations of all the others. I am certain you will not lead us into nothing.”

I sighed, relaxing. “Right,” I said. “I don't need to be anxious. You're not about to fire me cause I wasn't one hundred percent on target.”

“Indeed,” Optimus said. Then he motioned toward Bulkhead. “We also got a little waylaid by a new friend.”

Confused, I looked at Bulkhead, then looked at Optimus. “Do you need me to call Ratchet? Cause that’s just Bulkhead.”

“Oh, uh,” Bulkhead said and then turned around.

“Heya!” said a smaller mech with a face mask and fins on the side of his face that lit up when he spoke, waving from where he was stuck to Bulkhead.

My mouth fell slightly ajar. I blinked, wondering if my optics were playing tricks on me without my visor and hoping it would be fixed soon. “I take it the ‘Cons had the Polarity Gauntlet on them?” I asked dryly.

“You could say that,” the mech that I was more than certain was Wheeljack said in an unmistakeable accent. I wasn’t sure what accent it was, never had identified it, but it was an accent that I had once just dubbed the “Wheeljack accent.” “I’m Wheeljack, by the way! Nice to meet you! Did you say Ratchet’s here? It’ll be nice to see that old mech!”

I took the mech in for a moment. He was decidedly much smaller than the Wheeljack from the show—much closer to the Wheeljack of continuities in which he was much more similar to his original G1 counterpart. Did this mean he was an inventor and a scientist rather than a Wrecker? And he seemed excited to see Ratchet, more evidence of being more science and less guns. Well, he probably made guns. Another difference for the notes.

“Eh, why are you looking at me like that?” Wheeljack asked.

I shook my helm. “Don’t worry about it,” I said, not sure if Optimus wanted to let any and every Autobot that arrived in on my knowledge base. “Considering how we might get you unstuck.” It was enough of a cover, if it came out in a rather Wreck-Gar like way, and not entirely untrue. “Did you guys happen to get the Polarity Gauntlet?”

“Unfortunately no,” Optimus said. “But I’m sure between Ratchet and Wheeljack a solution can be found.”

Hopefully not an explosive one, I thought, wondering how true the mech’s reputation in my home reality for his knack for blowing up, well, everything he touched was.

“What are we going to do with this thing?” Bulkhead asked, holding up the Spark Extractor as he glanced back at us.

Optimus, Wheeljack and I all looked at it.

“I vote we destroy it,” I said, some venom in my voice. “It’s a vicious and cruel weapon that has no business existing. It's an unfair kind of weapon. And if the ‘Cons got it back from us…” I knew I didn't have to finish that sentence.

“I say we study it,” Wheeljack said, looking all too eager in my opinion.

I waved a hand in dismissal, making a noise not unlike Ratchet’s disgruntled grunt as I turned back around to my work. “I’ve seen enough of it to know it shouldn’t exist and has no purpose to serve to warrant keeping it.”

“Well, how do you know?” Wheeljack asked.

No one answered him, but I knew Optimus got my message loud and clear.

“What if the ‘Cons have more of them?” Bulkhead asked tentatively.

My wings stiffened and I paused my work. “Then it would warrant knowing how to counteract its effects,” I said carefully. “But even getting there would be extremely dangerous. It’s a Spark Extractor. What do you think it does?”

“Uh, extract sparks?” Bulkhead asked.

“Ah, we can shut it off before it succeeds so we can figure out how to interrupt it,” Wheeljack said.

“And who are you gonna test it on to determine if there’s even a window of time to do that in?” I asked. “Whose life are you gonna risk, Wheeljack? Yours? Mine? Bulkhead’s? Optimus’s?"

“Uh,” Wheeljack said, and his voice told me my point was made.

I collected several of my data pads. “I’m going for some air,” I said and turned to go without looking at the new guy.

I expected Optimus to stop me, so it surprised me that he didn’t. Once I was out of the tent, I paused and cycled some air through my systems. I glanced around to see Ratchet returning from the docks with Bumblebee and Arcee with some supplies. Ordinarily I would go help them, but I didn’t want to return to the tent, so I went the other way, transforming in order to get to the beach faster.

Wheeljack watched the angry femme leave in mild perplexion. “What’s her problem?”

“I’ll tell you what her problem is,” Bulkhead said, sounding angry himself. “You were suggesting testing a weapon on us without knowing if it would kill us or not.”

“Shadebreaker has…strong feelings about experimentation,” Optimus told him. “Her past is…troubled. But she is not wrong. Testing on yourself or your fellow bots with dangerous weapons will not be tolerated. We cannot risk the wellbeing of anyone on this team on such a small chance at an advantage. Am I understood, Wheeljack?”

“Crystal, Prime,” Wheeljack said, fins flashing. “But, uh, what’re we gonna do if the ‘Cons do have more of these things?”

“We will have to figure that out without putting our sparks at risk,” Optimus said. 

“Does that mean we’re destroying it?” Bulkhead asked.

“Yes, Bulkhead,” Optimus said. “I believe that is for the best.”

“What’s for the best now?” Arcee asked as she walked into the tent just before Bumblebee. She paused. “What am I seeing?”

“Polarity Gauntlet,” Bulkhead replied.

Bumblebee whirled sympathetically as he moved further in so that Ratchet could join them.

“Ratchet! Just the mech I wanted to see!” Wheeljack said enthusiastically.

“Wheeljack? What have you gotten yourself into? And why did it look like Shadebreaker was storming off angry? What did you say to her?” Ratchet asked.

“Why do you think it was me?” Wheeljack asked, trying to sound innocent.

“Because no one else has managed to make her scowl like that in the months since she’s arrived,” Ratchet said, placing his load down by the door. “Not even when I upset her. And I upset her pretty good.”

“All I did was suggest we test the Spark Extractor out to see if we could interrupt it,” Wheeljack said, motioning to the device in Bulkhead’s hand.

Ratchet slammed a hand into his own face. 

“You suggested what now?!” Arcee asked, incensed herself. “No wonder she stormed off.”

“Wheeljack, you can’t just…” Ratchet groaned. 

“Relax,” Wheeljack said. “Prime’s already told me no. We’re gonna destroy it instead.”

“Why not use it?” Arcee asked.

“It is too dangerous a weapon to risk it,” Optimus shook his helm. “I am not risking an Autobot getting caught by it or it falling back into Decepticon hands.”

“Now that we’ve established that, can we work on getting me unstuck? I’m cramping here,” Wheeljack complained, squirming a bit.

Ratchet sighed. “Alright, let’s see what we got,” he said, taking out his scanner.

While he and Wheeljack discussed the results of the scan and possible solutions, Bumblebee and Arcee did their best to keep Bulkhead entertained with card games since he was stuck sitting in makeshift medbay with them. Optimus, meanwhile, saw to the destruction of the Spark Extractor before slipping out of the tent to attend meetings with liaisons. Shadebreaker had expressed to him a desire to take on some of those responsibilities, but in the interest of keeping her from taking on more than she could chew he had declined for the time being with the promise that in time she would be allowed to do so, once she had less learning on her plate.

Ratchet and Wheeljack worked for several hours on a solution before they finally found one, but find one they did. Both stuck mechs were highly relieved to be unstuck. Bulkhead and the others beat a hasty retreat from the tent, not wanting to be present if Ratchet went ballistic on Wheeljack over pissing Shadebreaker off. They knew he’d not gone as hard on her about the missed energon as he would’ve on them and they had their ideas about why.

“Great!” Wheeljack said, rotating his shoulder joints their full rotation. “Now that that’s done, wanna help me examine some stuff I found on Eberron?”

“Not right now, Wheeljack,” Ratchet said, crossing his arms. “Right now we’re going to talk about you and what you are and aren’t going to be allowed to do while you’re part of this team. Especially around Shadebreaker.”

“Come on, doc,” Wheeljack said. “It’s science! I test everything! You know that! Everyone knows that!”

“Sure, everyone who knows you,” Ratchet said, waving a hand. “But that’s besides the point, Wheeljack. Shadebreaker’s been through enough and has enough she worries about without adding wondering if her friends are gonna be experimented on by an ally to that number. You can’t just waltz in here and act like live experimentation on living creatures is ok. It’s against the Autobot code. I honestly can’t believe you’ve gone this far without getting that thoroughly into your cranium.” He tapped the side of his helm for emphasis. 

“Ok, I get it,” Wheeljack said. “I was merely trying to help. It seems like we’re in a tight spot here. Sometimes tight spots mean the rules loosen up a bit, you know?”

“Not with Optimus,” Ratchet said. “And not with me, not with this. And you will certainly never bring it up around Shade’ ever again or I will rearrange your parts. Do you understand?” He emphasized his point by waving a wrench at the mech.

Wheeljack waved his hands in front of him, looking very nervous. “Ok, ok, I read you Ratchet,” he said. “I won’t mention experimenting on living beings in front of your femme ever again. Promise.”

“She’s not my femme,” Ratchet said.

“Sure she ain’t, doc,” Wheeljack said, looking amused now. “But you’re awful protective of her.”

“She’s been through a lot,” Ratchet said, not looking at Wheeljack. “I’m just looking out for her while she recovers, that’s all.”

“She seems plenty recovered to me, doc,” Wheeljack said, highly amused. 

Ratchet huffed. “Whatever, you wouldn’t understand,” he said and moved toward the energon cabinet. He grabbed out three cubes and passed one to Wheeljack. He hesitated a moment before subspacing the other two. “I’ll be back, don’t wait up.” He headed toward the tent flap.

Wheeljack just chuckled, thinking his old friend was merely in a strong stage of denial.

I was sitting in the sand at the beach when Ratchet found me, surrounded by the myriad of datapads I had commandeered for my task of pinpointing exact location. It was like having multiple tabs open but I could look at more than two at a time without separating them into tiny as heck windows. They were all safely placed on a tarp some humans had kindly provided at one point when I'd come out here to work once before. It helped protect them from the sand.

“Were you planning on staying out here all night?” Ratchet asked, walking up to stand next to me.

I glanced up at him. “I mean I was gonna have to come back for some energon soon,” I said. “I was just trying to convince myself to do so.”

Ratchet sighed at that and then sat down next to me. “No need. I brought the energon to you.” He held a cube out to me.

“Why thank you,” I said, smiling at him as I accepted it. “I may stay out here now. It's just as safe as the tent. Haven't slept under the stars since those first nights here and I couldn't exactly enjoy those ones.” My wings stretched out a bit and then relaxed again. 

“Hmm,” Ratchet hummed, taking out a cube of energon for himself.

I took a sip of the energon and was disappointed by the lack of tasty minerals in it. I didn't say anything, though. I knew our supplies were still limited even if our energon gathering was a little easier now. I couldn’t start expecting Ratchet to mix minerals in everytime he got me my energon for me. 

“So, I heard what happened with Wheeljack,” Ratchet said carefully, as if afraid bringing it up would have me flying off the handle.

I sighed heavily, wings lowering. “Yeah?” I asked. I was silent for a moment, sipping my energon to buy time. “You know, I always expected Wheeljack to be one I got along with. I mean, in my reality he has something of a reputation for his creations exploding for the first prototype or two. Or otherwise going haywire. But he was always depicted as good natured and cheerful.”

“He is, for the most part,” Ratchet said and I gave him a look that said “really?” “He just has a hard time understanding where his limits are sometimes. He's always been willing to push the envelope, but if he knows the rules are hard fast, he will follow them. Most of the time. At least, he will listen to me about it.”

“So I won't wake up one day to him holding the Spark Extractor over me or one of you if Optimus says no?” I asked doubtfully.

“Well, Optimus destroyed the Extractor so he doesn't even have the option to disobey,” Ratchet said. 

“What about standing over me wanting to take me apart to understand my portals?” I asked.

“Wheeljack would never do that,” Ratchet said, sounding very sure and waving his free hand. “I've known him since long before the war. He's never enjoyed cutting into a bot. It's why he's an inventor and not a medic. He was med caste like I was, that's how we knew each other. We studied together under the same mech. But he hated the surgical aspect of it. He preferred working on tools and weapons.”

“Well,” I said, looking back at my datapads. “Good to know he has some limits of his own.” I sipped my energon.

We sat in companionable silence as we consumed our energon, both looking at my datapads scattered on the tarp for a while.

“So, made any progress on locating any more artifacts?” Ratchet asked, motioning toward the datapads.

“I have pinpointed the Tox-En and Apex Armor now,” I replied. “And one of what is referred to as Omega Keys, though I have doubts regarding those. In multiple ways, but mostly if I can locate all of them. Only two really had a solid indicator of location. One is not currently on Earth.”

"Omega Keys?” Ratchet asked, raising an optic ridge. “The only Omega Key I know of is Omega Supreme. And he’s back on Cybertron.”

I chuckled. “That's what the games called him, too,” I said, taking a mental note. “The show pulled the Omega Keys out of nowhere as the way to restore Cybertron and a way to Cyberform other planets. Remains to be seen if they exist. We should at least investigate the location I pinpointed to determine if they do. It will at least tell me if it's worth combing through the images to find enough information to locate the other two. As long as a particular bot is out there, the fourth will remain safe as long as he does….as long as my information about them is accurate to this timeline.”

“What bot is that?” Ratchet asked.

“Ever hear of Smokescreen?” I asked.

“Can't say I have,” Ratchet said.

I shrugged. “Doesn't rule it out. None of you knew of him in the show until he showed up,” I said. “I never really liked the idea. But that was the Transformers fan in me more than the practical or realistic side of me. I wasn't thinking of it as everything being real, just from a story perspective and the original source material. The AllSpark was always what was supposed to restore Cybertron. I was angry the creators had seemed to forget about it. It was an inconsistency and the writer in me raged about it for quite a while. Like, the whole reason you bots came to Earth in every other continuity was to find the AllSpark. Without it, it seemed like you were just here for no reason.”

“Well, it was our search for the AllSpark that brought us here,” Ratchet said. “We've had no luck finding it, I don't know if it’s even here. We've no way of leaving planet, though. And Optimus won't leave until we know Megatron will follow.”

“Hmm,” I hummed thoughtfully. “He followed you off every other planet. What makes you think he'll stay on this one?” 

Ratchet sighed. "Does it matter? We can’t leave."

My wings shifted. “May I ask what happened to the Ark anyways?” I asked.

“You don't know?” Ratchet asked.

I shook my helm. “There’s a gap between the books I read and the show. By the time the show started it was just the group of you that were here when I got here, including Cliff’ for a brief stint—all of one or two episodes.” I made a disgruntled face. “There was a book that bridged the gap, but I had just learned of its existence shortly before ending up here so I don't know whether it would've answered that question or not.”

“The Quintessons disabled it when we encountered them on Aquatron,” Ratchet replied. “We were forced to scatter in smaller vessels afterwards and our ship was destroyed upon arrival to Earth, stranding us here.”

“Ooohh,” I said.

“And Megatron and Optimus both seem convinced the AllSpark is here,” Ratchet said. “Somewhere.”

“It was here in most continuities,” I said. “Most it had to be found, anyways. I've been gathering the different locations in a document dedicated to it, but it's harder to pinpoint locations when timeframes are different in different ones. Some took place in the distant past for example. Landscapes change. Humans could interfere. Etc. I don't have a lot to go off of. I was going to present what I have to Optimus on it soon regardless if I get anymore progress. Starting somewhere is still somewhere.” My wings shifted. “In the show it was on a different planet. But I may have already checked it when no one was looking. My portals are quite handy. It wasn’t there.”

“That was reckless,” Ratchet said.

“I know,” I said. “But I was anxious. And angry. Wheeljack really upset me and when I am angry I need to be productive or I stew and stewing is not good. This is good and all, but it doesn’t get the angry energy out.” I waved at the datapads as I spoke and then rested my free hand on my knee. “I had already kinda snapped at the mech, I didn't need to risk lashing out at someone not responsible for my emotion or feeling tempted to punch him or something. He's a bot. Being violent with a fellow bot is not something I want to do. So I did something I thought would be most productive. Sucks that it turned out to be a wild goose chase. Guess not all of my information is good. Unless Megatron already got it, I guess. But I feel like Megatron would've called Optimus to gloat about his victory if he had.” I picked up a datapad and then put it down. “As he was prone to do in the books.”

“Hmm,” Ratchet hummed in agreement.

“And there was no evidence of anyone having been there before,” I said. “Nothing that was there in the show was there. I searched the whole dang place. Asked the locals. Nothing. They seemed like they hadn't even seen a Cybertronian before. It was…an interesting experience.”

“How did you do all that in a few hours?” Ratchet asked.

“My portals can go through time,” I said, lifting my free hand and flexing my fingers. “I just portalled back around the same time I left. No one was the wiser. Except maybe the people monitoring the readouts caused by my portalling within the shielding. Optimus probably knows I've been gone and back. I'm sure he'll have words about it to me. And I'm not gonna hide it from him or anything. I know it was reckless and I know I will get a lecture and I will hate it. But I think it would be more reckless at this point to go back and stop myself. It would risk a paradox or a time loop or whatever would happen to go back in time and meet myself. And then Vector would have to step in. Don't think that's how I want to get my next meeting with dear old dad.”

Ratchet shook his helm at me. “You knew all this and you still did it,” he said.

“Well, I didn't think of it at the time I did it,” I said. “Only after I portalled and was actively looking. At which point, if I was going to get lectured, might as well have it be for something. Except it's still kinda for nothing cause I went and still came back empty handed.” I sighed.

“And here I thought the twins were bad,” Ratchet said. “At least they have each other to back them up and combat training.”

“Hey! I have some now,” I said. “And I would've portalled back if necessary. It was mostly a reconnaissance mission. And, I mean, I did get information. Information that my information isn't all accurate. Not sure how to feel about it.”

Ratchet reached over and rubbed my knee. “We've survived just fine without your information just fine up until now.”

“Yeah, but-”

“Up,” Ratchet interrupted me. “If you're about to say it's all you're good for, don't. We've told you already. Your worth lies more than just in your information.”

“Sure Ratchet,” I said. “And the sky isn't blue.”

Ratchet gave me a withering look.

“I'll believe you in time,” I assured him. “It takes time for me to believe anyone sees me as more than what I can give them. It took me a while to truly see it with my fiancée even, and I saw it with him faster than anyone else. Especially after what happened with S- an old friend of mine.”

Ratchet was silent for a moment, considering me. “What happened?”

“You ever have a friend you thought was your best friend and considered a sister, but they did nothing but lie and manipulate and use you for their own ends?” I asked. “And treated you like shit? But you put up with it because they're like your sister, they don't mean to hurt you, they just had a messed up upbringing. And you keep making excuses even though you've tried talking to them and they won't change and then someday they just abandon you and you're left to face everything they've done both to you and others without the wool there to cover it up and it just hurts and you have to make the choice to stop accepting their surface level apologies as a way for them to keep hurting you. And accept that for all their words that they never saw you the same way you saw them and they find it acceptable to lie and manipulate and that's not the kind of people you want in your life because you don't find it acceptable so even though it hurts you shut them down when they do eventually apologize. I mean, it was a half ass apology, like they always were, but…it was a bit better than others had been. Still reeked of manipulation, though. Still couldn't trust it.”

Ratchet was silent for a long time. Then he lifted his hand as if wanting to touch my face, but then thought better of it. “That's why it upset you so much when I kept your relation to Vector from you, isn't it?”

I nodded. “If it had been her, it would've been something she did simply because she just didn't care. Or she was waiting to use it on me to manipulate me into doing something I didn't really want to do. She did that a lot. And I let her. I let her manipulate me. I let her get away with lying to me many times. I called her out on it many times, too, but it never helped, so I let it slide a lot to avoid fights. She’d promise never to lie again only to turn around and do it again. And then gaslight me about it, trying to say because we talked about it that it never happened.” I scoffed at that. “As if that's how it works. Water under the bridge only stays under the bridge if behavior changes. And it never did with her. 

“That's why I can only focus on this so long.” I continued, waving at the datapads. “So many of my memories regarding the show are connected to her. We met because of Transformers. It was our biggest thing together. Not all of those memories are bad, but not all of them are good either. It is, actually, the source of one of the worst cases of lying and manipulation she pulled on me. I'd rather not go into details. I promised her I wouldn't tell anyone and while she's not my friend and she wouldn't know, I'm still a person of my word.”

“I understand,” Ratchet said, placing his hand on my shoulder and giving a reassuring squeeze. “I hope you know I didn't keep it from you because I didn't care or because I wanted to use it against you.”

“I know, Ratchet,” I said, placing my free hand over his. “You’re not that kind of mech. I appreciate that about you. You just wanted to have more information. Kinda like how I've been pinpointing each relic before telling Optimus where they are, even roughly. Main difference is, I can pinpoint them more accurately. You were relying on random luck.”

Ratchet looked a little sheepish at that. “That's fair,” he said. He downed the rest of his energon. Then he looked at me. “Are you going to be ok out here by yourself? I can stay.”

I smiled over at him, though I could tell it didn’t quite reach my optics. It never did if the subject of my old friend came up. “I'll be ok, Ratchet,” I said softly. “Thank you, though.” I squeezed his hand slightly. “I appreciate your concern. I truly do.”

Ratchet smiled back and I could tell he was troubled. Whether by the idea of leaving me or by what I had revealed to him about my past or both, I wasn't sure. Or maybe by the simple fact I didn't want to return to the tent.

“Really, Ratchet,” I said. “I will be ok. It’s been several years since I last talked to that friend. I'm not fully healed yet. I don't know if I ever truly will be. It was a thirteen year long thing. But I'm not about to keel over just cause I talked about it. I'm not gonna run off and do more reckless recon on my own. I'm healed enough that talking about that won't send into some kind of mental breakdown. It's not nearly as fresh as…the other stuff.”

Ratchet sighed, looking at least a little relieved. “Good,” he said softly. “I'll still stay if you need me to, though.”

“I mean, if you want to stay you can,” I said, optics sparkling a little. “If it'll make you feel better not to leave me alone out here all night. But I chose the beach because the ocean soothes me. The water soothes me. Always has. Mom used to call me her water bug. While I can't swim anymore, just being in the vicinity of water is nice.”

“That makes one of us,” Ratchet said dryly, turning to eye the ocean.

“You don't like it?” I asked, grinning a little bit in amusement.

Ratchet huffed. “It’s not that I don't like it,” he said. “But it can lead to rust without proper after care. And it's not like we have proper showers yet.”

“There’s a hose,” I said, shrugging. “It works. Not the easiest, but it works.”

Ratchet grumbled. 

“We'll have proper showers before you know it,” I said. “I saw the building's almost done. The medbay one is almost done, too.”

Ratchet just sighed. “And then I suppose you'll be wading in the water with reckless abandon.”

“You already know me so well,” I said, optics sparkling in amusement.

Ratchet looked the very opposite of amused.

Chapter Text

Chapter 8: Trouble Unseen Pt 1

Wheeljack looked around the Autobot tent after getting up to see who was around. Most bots weren't, it looked like. Just Ratchet and Shadebreaker. Ratchet was, naturally, working on repairing something. As the team's only medic and engineer up till now, Wheeljack wasn't surprised repair work of any kind fell on the mech.

Shadebreaker was a curious one, though. The brief bit he'd seen of her he'd thought she was a hard worker. Now she was curled up on one of the medbay beds, huddled like a scared cyberkitten. The set of her wings told him she was upset. She wasn't still upset by what he'd said yesterday, was she? Had she been up all night crying?

He approached cautiously and reached out to rouse her, wanting to check on her.

“Up!” Ratchet’s sharp voice froze his hand midair. “Don’t disturb her. She needs rest.”

“Sorry,” Wheeljack said, moving away from her and approaching Ratchet instead. “Did she…cry all night about what I said or something?”

Ratchet sighed, glancing at him and then over at her. “No, nothing like that,” he said. “Though you did upset her greatly. She did something reckless and got a solid dressing down from Optimus about it this morning. She took it pretty hard despite knowing it was coming. Her systems are just worn out from the stress.”

Wheeljack winced in sympathy. It was never fun to get dressed down by your commanding officer. “Poor fembot.”

“Indeed,” Ratchet said. 

“What're you working on?” Wheeljack asked, peering at the item in Ratchet’s hands.

“It is- It was Shadebreaker’s visor,” Ratchet replied. “It got severely damaged on a mission. I'm trying to fix it for her, but it's more badly damaged than the last time and visors aren't really my forte.”

“Hmm,” Wheeljack hummed thoughtfully. “I could fix it.”

Ratchet paused and eyed him suspiciously. 

“Relax,” Wheeljack said, holding his hands up in surrender. “I mean no harm. If anything, I owe it to her as an apology. I didn't mean to upset her so badly. Plus, I bet I could add some cool features to it to help keep her safe in the field.”

Ratchet considered this for a moment and Wheeljack watched the cogs turn in his oldest friend's helm. He knew he had said the right things when the medic sighed heavily. “Alright,” he said, stepping aside and motioning toward the visor. “But if it blows up on her, it's your spark, not mine.”

“That's fair, Ratchet,” Wheeljack said. “But I would never blow up your femme.”

“She’s not my femme,” Ratchet growled.

“Keep telling yourself that, doc,” Wheeljack said happily. 

Ratchet walked away, grumbling even as he moved toward the boxes of supplies near the door.

Wheeljack ignored him. He knew what he'd sensed. Ratchet could deny it all he wanted, but Wheeljack knew a blooming romance when he saw one. He was one of the few mechs especially attuned to such things. He'd noticed it eons ago when Chromia had met Ironhide—and he had never even met that mech! And then again when Chromedome had met Rewind—two mechs! He had not expected that! But good for them. And now he was seeing it with Ratchet. 

He wondered if Shadebreaker had noticed. He glanced over at her to consider it, making sure Ratchet didn't notice. It was hard to know with how little he knew of the femme. His fins flashed a moment in thought. Then he turned back to his work. Best not think about it until he had a proper conversation with the femme. He had to make sure Ratchet was falling for a good one, after all. And the visor was the best conversation starter he could think of.

“So this is the place we'll find this Omega Key, huh?” Bulkhead asked, looking around the area Shadebreaker had sent them. “Sandy.”

“Egypt is mostly desert,” Arcee said, amused. “Reminds me of Jasper.”

“Be alert,” Optimus reminded them. “If the Decepticons have not already checked this location, the odds are high that they will be here as well.”

“Naturally,” Arcee said. “It feels like they're constantly on the same artifacts we are. Coincidence?”

“You’re not suggesting Shade's playing sides, are you?” Bulkhead asked as they made their way toward the pyramids, sensors and optics alert.

“I'm just saying,” Arcee said, shrugging. “It’s a little strange that we bump into them at every artifact. The only ones we haven't are the ones they beat us to entirely.”

Bumblebee whirled an argument, sounding a bit angry on Shadebreaker’s account.

“I agree with ‘Bee,” Bulkhead said. “Shade’ got pretty banged up on her mission. And don't forget how you found her. Kinda a little unfair to question her isn't it?”

“I'm just saying something's a little fishy as the humans say,” Arcee said. “The ‘Cons get two free grabs and we can't even get one? And the one we might’ve gotten is the one piece of her information that is inaccurate? I don’t buy it. Something’s off.”

Bumblebee whirled questioningly.

“That's crazy,” Bulkhead said. “How could there be a mole? We've all been here from the beginning. And Wheeljack hasn't been here long enough to account for your concerns.”

“Autobots, radio silence,” Optimus said as they neared the pyramids. “We are getting near the target search zone.”

The team fell silent, each with their own thoughts on the matter. It did seem a little odd that no matter the timeframe of when they went after anything they always ran into Decepticons. Except for when Shadebreaker hadn't even communicated to them about the artifact in question she was going after. The fact the AllSpark hadn't been there had likely been a fluke if what Arcee was implying was true.

Did they have a shapeshifter among them? Again? Optimus did not like the thought. But he knew from Shadebreaker it wasn't out of the realm of possibility. He would have to ask Shadebreaker to start sharing her information with him more privately. This also meant her relation, that he'd meant to keep classified, was likely known to the Decepticons if there was a spy they hadn't caught. 

And, if they were right, the mole was among those here, who had just discussed the possibility of it. Or, it was Ratchet. Optimus didn’t believe for a moment it was Shadebreaker and he knew Arcee didn’t either. She was merely making it seem like she did to let him know she suspected something without tipping the mole off, to lure them into a sense of false security thinking they suspected someone different. Which meant she believed it was one of the mechs with them. Or she was throwing them off her own tail. What was it Jazz had said once about spies and creating false trails?

“It’s too quiet,” Arcee said after they had searched several rooms. “And we’ve been in this room five times already.”

Bumblebee whirled an agreement.

“Yeah,” Bulkhead said. “I don't like it either.”

They moved carefully through the pyramid toward the one room that was left for them to check. There was an air of unease about them under all the factors surrounding them. The potential spy. The weird quiet. The emptiness of the pyramid. The sense that something wasn't right.

I shifted as I came online and then stretched out all my limbs like a cat waking from a nap, wings included. I would've yawned, too, had I still been human. I almost did for the familiarity of it. It felt nice to have slept more, despite not having meant to sleep. I’d meant to stay awake. I was supposed to be on alert with a new bot present.

“Rise and shine, sleepy helm!” Wheeljack's cheerful voice greeted my audials and my nice mood fell.

I grunted and then rolled over with my back to him.

“Aw, don't be like that,” Wheeljack said, wheedling a little. “I'm sorry I upset you.”

I flicked my wing that wasn't now pinned underneath me at him. I closed my optics as if I could block him out.

“I got you something to make up for being a jerk,” Wheeljack said in a chipper tone, sounding unmoved by my attempts at dismissal.

I flicked my wing again. His tone was much too lacking in seriousness for me to take his apology seriously. How was I supposed to know he was sincere if he treated it like a joke?

Wheeljack sighed now. “Look,” he said, walking around my bed. I heard him stop right in front of my helm. His voice was much more serious and calm now. “I get it. I know I was a Grade-A Afthole when you met me yesterday. It wasn’t cool of me to just….suggest we test something like that on your friends. I didn't…I wasn't thinking of the consequences of testing something called the Spark Extractor on living bots until you laid them out clearly for me to see. I understand why you are upset with me. And you have every right to never forgive me. Or talk to me.” Wheeljack heaved a sigh and I heard a shift and felt the energy of his hand coming near me.

My reaction was instantaneous and not entirely controlled. I flinched away from him hard enough I fell off the bed with a loud CLUMP and CLANG as I hit the dying grass below. We really needed to water the grass inside the tent too.

Wheeljack peered over the bed at me. “Are you ok?”

“No,” I answered. Then I got up, shaking my fall off and smoothing my feather armor. “I'm sitting here listening to an apology I don't know if I can trust because you started out not even taking it seriously. It feels like you just switched tactics to get me to believe you. And I'm done with being manipulated into believing apologies and accepting shit from people. Especially ones I just met.” My wings shifted slightly. “I want to believe you, cause you are Ratchet’s friend and he trusts you, but you have not given me a good impression. Not great when I already have trust issues.”

Wheeljack listened to me speak patiently and there seemed to be some sort of regret in his optics if I was reading them right. I couldn’t be sure though, and that could be faked. There was more than just his readiness to test the Spark Extractor weighing into my distrust, it just happened to be a convenient excuse.

“I understand.” He said when I finished. “I will leave you be for a while if that is what you need. But first I wanted to give you this.” He pulled something from subspace and I saw it was my visor. He passed it to me. “Ratchet was having a hard time so I fixed it for you, as an apology. I added some features, too, that should come in handy on your next mission.”

I took the visor into my hands, but hesitated.

“It’s ok,” Wheeljack said, looking bemused. “It won't blow up. Ratchet would have my helm if it did.”

I couldn't help the small smile of amusement at that. Then I put the visor on carefully. And was momentarily shocked when a hud booted up, telling me my own stats and the stats of Wheeljack. 

“Whoa,” I said.

“That's not all!” Wheeljack said enthusiastically and then launched into an explanation of all the features he had installed into my visor and how to work them.

And while he explained, I silently ran programs that would detect spyware or anything of the sort in them as Optimus had taught me that day when I brought up the delicate topic of Makeshift when no one was around. It was one of those early mornings he had patrol and the others were asleep. I had joined long enough to have that talk.

He was just getting into the finer points of the health scanner when a beeping was heard from the main computer a ways away. We looked over and then at each other before moving over.

“A signal from an Autobot ship,” I said, checking it.

“Looks like they're in trouble,” Wheeljack said.

My hands hovered over the console, debating. My scans of the visor weren't complete. I had to bide time for just a minute. “I'll try to raise them on the comms.” I pressed the necessary buttons, openning a channel isolated from the away team—they didn't need to be distracted. “Autobot Base Zelta to Autobot ship, come in.”

Static was our answer.

“Comms must be down,” Wheeljack said. “And everyone's out on patrol or something?”

“Investigating some information,” I said vaguely as my scan results came back. “We're not disturbing them unless we have to.”

“What? But what about the ship?” Wheeljack asked.

“How are you in a fight?” I asked.

“I thought you weren't in the field yet?!” Wheeljack asked, sounding slightly panicked as I opened a portal.

“In case you haven't noticed, we're a little tight staffed,” I said. “Coming or what?”

“Scrap, I'm coming,” Wheeljack said. “But it's your aft if you get killed. Ratchet’s gonna murder me for going along with this.”

I smiled ruefully. Then I ran through the portal, Wheeljack right behind me.

THUMP! CLUNK!

“That's not good,” Bulkhead said about the sound that came from the room as they approached it.

They stopped their approach and a couple of them even took a step back as a large form stepped out from the darkness within. The hulking form had a lot of jagged edges and the silhouette of wings spread against the dark backdrop as it began to walk into the light of their flashlights. Standing before them was a massive Predacon—something they’d only heard stories of in horror stories and from Shadebreaker’s warnings of what might be waiting for them in the future.

“Uh oh,” Bulkhead said.

The Predacon let out a massive roar and then darted out of the room at them. It was then they realized it wasn’t just the Predacon emerging from the room, but also a contingent of Vehicons.

“Uh oh!” Bulkhead said more urgently as he ducked under the Predacon’s claws.

Optimus pulled out the Star Saber and blocked a blow from the Predacon’s mighty claws. 

“Comms are jammed!” Arcee said. “Scrap!” She rolled out of the way of the Predacon’s massive tail only to defend against a strike from a Vehicon’s sword.

“Autobots! Retreat!” Optimus called.

“Not an option!” Bulkhead said, looking at the entrance, which was sealed off now.

Bumblebee whirled worriedly.

Optimus’s optics narrowed as he zoomed in on the entrance to see that it had indeed been sealed. From the outside. Which meant someone had been waiting outside in order to seal them inside with the Predacon. The feeling that Arcee was right about the mole was growing.

The moment I exited the portal I realized a crucial piece of information I had not realized before running into it. 

We were in the air.

“S-Shade!” Wheeljack cried as he flailed for less than half a moment before he started falling.

I transformed quickly and then caught him with my talons by his biceps. “No worries,” I told him. “I gotcha.”

“Good…good,” Wheeljack said. He looked around and pointed. “There’s our ship. Being hassled by those ‘Cons.”

“I'm gonna get you on my back, that missile launcher on your shoulder any good?” I asked.

“Any good? Ha ha! Just let me aim it and you’ll see good!” Wheeljack said, getting more into the spirit now.

“That’s what I like to hear!” I said and swung him up. I let go and ducked, swooping under him and he landed on my back as if we’d practiced this a billion times. I wondered how many times he must’ve swung out of a moving vehicle in the war for that to have gone so smooth.

Wheeljack kneeled on my back, placing a hand on the top of my wing connector to help keep himself steady against the beat of my wings as he took aim. I flew as quickly as I dared to with him perched up there. He fired off a missile and I watched it soar through the air and hit a flying Vehicon right in the engine. Wheeljack whooped as it went down.

“Get in closer,” Wheeljack said, sounding like he had a plan.

“Hold on!” I said. “This might get bumpy!”

I flapped my wings harder and pushed myself to fly faster and harder than I had yet to do. I saw a hole had been blown out from the side of the ship and a couple bots were firing out of it at the attacking Vehicons and they looked our way when they noticed us. One of the attacking Decepticons near the hole didn’t look like a standard flying Vehicon, however. It looked like a Seeker. Not Starscream, though.

“Wheeljack! Take a Vehicon. I’ll take the Seeker.” I said.

“No way! If you get killed, Ratchet will kill me!” Wheeljack said. “I’ll take the Seeker. You take the Vehicons.”

“Fine,” I grumbled at him taking my chance to really test out my air combat skills. It was fair. But he was at a disadvantage, so was it really?

I got in close enough and Wheeljack leapt off of me and directly onto the Seeker while I plowed into the neighboring Vehicon with my talons extended. I flung the Vehicon into another one and then dived to catch up to the falling Wheeljack and Seeker, grabbing the Seeker’s wing with my beak and ripping a gash into it.

“Gahhh!” the Seeker cried in pain, being forced to disengage from Wheeljack, who’d been struggling to get the upper hand.

Wheeljack took advantage and punched the Seeker in the face, not with his fist, but with a…

“Is that a landmine?” I asked incredulously.

Wheeljack looked pleased.

The Seeker looked panicked.

I flew around the Seeker quickly and snatched Wheeljack by one shoulder and dragged him quickly away from the impending explosion. We escaped the blast radius just in time and Wheeljack whooped again and was laughing when I veered into the Autobot ship to land between the Autobots that had been shooting from inside the ship. It seemed all the offending Decepticons were taken care of now.

“That was exhilarating!” Wheeljack said, continuing to lay on the ground after I dropped him. “I should fight in the air more often.”

I transformed and just gave him a tolerating look. “You’re a perplexing mech, Wheeljack.” I said. Then I looked at the Autobots that were looking at us, clearly trying to decide whether to shoot us or not. I tilted my helm and then gave them a small bow. “Shadebreaker, at your service. We got your ship’s distress call.”

“Autobot distress call,” the larger of the mechs said. He looked me over. 

“And we are Autobots,” I replied. “Optimus would probably be here if he wasn’t busy already when we got it.” 

The smaller mech, a Praxian, considered me for a moment. “Did you lose your insignia?”

“Haven’t got it yet, actually,” I replied. “Still kinda new. Technically not supposed to be on the field yet, but literally everyone else besides this guy is busy.” I motioned at Wheeljack. “And I’m the only one who flies…so I’m not sure it would’ve gone well if I sent just anyone through the portal to get here. I may have missed the coordinates being mid-air. Really gotta work on my geography. I thought it was a mountain.”

“To be fair,” Wheeljack said, sticking a hand in the air. “There was a mountain! That way!” He pointed.

“Are you just gonna stay down there, Wheeljack?” I asked, putting my hands on my hips.

“I feel a little motion sick,” he said.

I huffed a little. “My flying wasn’t that bad,” I said, crossing my arms.

The bigger mech laughed at that.

“Anywho,” I said. “If you point me to the bridge and I can provide your pilot with the coordinates to home base.”

“Can’t you just portal us all home?” Wheeljack asked. “Like, the whole ship?”

I looked back down at him. 

“What does he mean by that?” the Praxian asked.

I looked at him. Really looked at him. And realized I must be looking at Prowl. “I have the ability to open time-space portals at will. It’s how we got here to help. It’s currently our main form of transportation.” I looked around at the ship walls. “I haven’t attempted anything quite this large before. My portals have thus far just been big enough for us bots. I’ve been meaning to test their limits, but it has not been a priority.”

“Time-space portals,” the bigger mech said, calling my attention to him. “Like-” He stopped when I put a finger to my lips. I shifted a wing slightly and he raised an optic ridge. “What?”

“Like space-time portals,” I said. “They go through space and time. Very handy. Anyways, we can test— hold on.”

.:Shade’ where are you?:. Ratchet’s voice came through my comms and my wings instinctively tensed in preparation to get chewed out.

.:Wheeljack and I responded to a distress call,:. I replied, looking back at Wheeljack, who was now getting up to his feet with the help of the wall. .:All is calm now, we were just discussing whether to fly the ship home or test the limits of my portals.:.

.:You might want to change that to test the limits of your portals to go save Optimus and the others,:. Ratchet said and my wings shifted in alarm and my mouth opened.

.;What do you mean?:. I asked.

.:We’ve been receiving a distress call from Arcee,:. Ratchet said.

“Scrap,” I said. 

“What? Ratchet chewing you out?” Wheeljack teased.

“No,” I said, motioning them to follow me. “Optimus and the others need help. I need to either portal just us bots to go help them or try to portal the whole ship. Ratchet seemed to think portaling the whole ship was a good idea. And he’s not usually one to tell me to test things on the go.”

“Slag, it must be bad then,” Wheeljack agreed as the three mechs followed me toward the front of the ship. “He’s not even telling you to get your aft back to base.”

“Same day I’m lectured about leaving base without permission I’m leaving base and getting a pass, the world is strange when you’re in war,” I commented dryly.

“Are you just not good at following directions?” Prowl asked.

“To be fair, no one explicitly told me not to leave base before the first time,” I told him, turning toward him slightly as we walked. “But it was really reckless of me and it was a decision I made while really angry at that one.” I pointed at Wheeljack.

“I said I’m sorry!” Wheeljack said.

“Apology accepted.” I conceded, reluctantly.

“Yes!” Wheeljack cheered.

I rolled my optics behind my visor. “And this time…well, we covered that.” I said. “It’s habit, I guess. I jump in where I see a need. Unless I can’t.”

We made it to the bridge, where three more mechs were waiting, discussing whether the ship could make it somewhere or not. They stopped what they were doing to look at us and I immediately felt self-conscious. Prowl stepped forward and told them what the plan was in as few words as possible while it was still understandable as I stepped up to as close to the very front as I could. The front windshield was broken off the bridge and the shielding appeared to be down. I didn’t know if it mattered, but I thought it might be good that I didn’t have to test it.

“So,” a red mech said. “How does this work?”

“It’s difficult to explain,” I said, shrugging. Then I lifted my arms, gusting air through my systems. I closed my optics to focus entirely on my portals.

“How long does it take?” the mech whispered to Wheeljack.

“I need concentration, I haven’t done it this way before, please be quiet,” I told him. “And keep the ship steady.”

I found the program I had identified as responsible for my portals after some deep concentrating one day. I focused on it entirely and focused on where I was, where I wanted to go, how much further ahead of my hands I wanted the portal to open and how big I wanted it to be. I felt a physical strain as I felt the energy move and heard the audible gasp from the red mech as the portal opened in front of us. I flinched a little and heard Prowl tell the red mech to get the ship through the portal and stop gawking. My wings twitched a little.

“Ok, Shade’,” Wheeljack said quietly from beside me. His hand was lightly touching my arm. “We’re through.”

I let go of my concentration, whole body relaxing. “Damn,” I said. Then I looked out the windshield. “Really damn. That’s Ser-ket. Holy shit. That’s Ser-ket fighting Optimus.”

“Who’s Ser-ket?” the silver mech among the Autobot crew asked.

“Really fraggin’ dangerous Predacon that was a guard in Shockwave’s laboratory when I was one of his experiments,” I answered, aware of how panicked my voice sounded. “We gotta get our bots and get. Optimus has the Star Saber and still looks like he’s having trouble.”

I bounced on my pedes a little, anxious to do something but not sure what. I looked at Prowl, practically begging him to tell me what to do. I heard the silver bot chuckle a bit.

“She already has you pegged for the leader, Prowl,” he said.

Prowl’s doorwing twitched as he looked back at me. “Sideswipe,” he said, addressing the mech without looking away from me. “How close do you think you can get to the battlefield?”

“Depends,” Sideswipe answered. “On if that Predacon turns its attention on us.”

“I could distract it,” I offered.

“And get murdered?!” Wheeljack asked. “Ratchet will literally kill us if we get her killed Prowl! You cannot let her do that! ”

“I can portal away,” I said. “I know I cannot fight her. But I’m an escaped experiment. That wounds her pride. I spent enough time in that place to know just seeing me will drag her away from Optimus. And I am nothing if not good at avoiding dying when I ought to die.”

Wheeljack stared at me like I’d lost my mind.

“You can out fly her?” Sideswipe’s voice asked, sounding uncertain.

My wings shifted. “I have not seen her fly,” I admitted. “So I cannot say for certain. But she is much larger, and bulkier. There is more to such a game of chase than speed.”

Prowl nodded his helm to me. “Do it.”

“Prowl!” Wheeljack said in protest.

The larger mech grabbed my arm as I turned toward the windshield to climb out it. “Are you sure about this?” he asked.

“About this? No. What I’m sure of is that I don’t want to watch another Autobot die if I can do something about it,” I told him. “Honestly, that’s probably the only thing I’ve been sure of from day one.”

Then I pulled away from him and then climbed out the hole in the windshield. I balanced there for a moment, locating Ser-ket in relation to where we were. Then I leapt, transforming mid-air and then diving toward my target. When I came upon her, I shifted to extend my talons and caught her on the face, distracting her from what could’ve been a decisive blow on Arcee—who’d taken her attention off Optimus by the time I’d gotten to her.

“Shade?” I heard Arcee.

“You,” Ser-ket said, venom in her voice. “The escaped one.”

“Come and get me, you big sucker,” I said and wiggled my tail feathers at her.

She roared. “I’ll put you in your place, bird!”  

I flew away at top speed as she abandoned her assault on my friends to give chase. I led her away as quickly as I could, dodging swipes from her claws and jabs from her tail that kinda reminded me of a scorpion. I banked hard to the left to avoid one claw, hoping to get some distance if she had a harder time turning and weaved around her other outstretched arm. It was successful, but it lead to her shooting fire out of her mouth that I had to fly up and around to avoid, causing me to fly over her back and have to avoid her tail. 

I lost track of how long we flew this dance. I knew by the end I was getting tired and she was showing no signs of letting up. I was just wondering what was taking the bots so long when I finally got the message that they got everyone aboard the ship and I was good to portal away. 

“None too soon,” I muttered.

Then I portaled away just in time to miss being snapped by her jaws. I exited just outside the hole of the ship and then flew into it, landing a little unsteady next to Optimus and the large mech that had almost stopped me from playing my distraction game.

“Shadebreaker,” Optimus started.

“I know you’re Prime,” I said, transforming and putting my hands together. “But I’m gonna get us home first, then you can chew me out.”

Optimus blinked, but I turned and rushed toward the bridge. Once there, I repeated the process that got us here to get us into the airspace above home as Sideswipe piloted the craft through the portal. Once through, I worked with Sideswipe to communicate with the ground team about where he could park the ship.

“Well, glad that is over,” Wheeljack said.

“And you thought I was gonna die,” I said, leaning heavily against Sideswipe’s chair, causing the mech to look at me in concern. “Multiple times, in fact.”

“No offense, but you do look rather….exhausted,” Wheeljack said.

“I feel exhausted.” I said. “Opening my portals that big was a lot. And avoiding Ser-ket was a lot. The stress of Ser-ket was a lot. And…I need energon. Like…that thing you put on my visor is flashing red.”

“Oh slag,” Wheeljack said, moving forward and catching me as I was sliding off the chair.

“Ah, oh, a little urgently, huh,” I said. “Now I know what it feels like.”

“Indeed,” Wheeljack said, helping me lean against the base of the chair.

Sideswipe moved around his chair swiftly and was putting a cube in my face. “Here, take this one,” he said. “You probably need more than one, but this will get you up again.”

I looked up as Optimus came in with the large mech behind him and flinched as Sideswipe helped me drink the energon. Wheeljack moved away so Optimus could kneel opposite the twin. “Uh, hey, Optimus.”

“You overworked yourself,” he observed.

“Apparently my systems don’t like me opening large sized portals two times in a row with intense flight in-between,” I said, holding a hand out in front of me to test my vision. Then I moved it back to the cube as Sideswipe lightly bumped my shoulder to tell me to drink. “Now I know. Sorry I left base without permission again.”

“Ironhide told me it was to assist them,” Optimus said, indicating the large mech, who nodded to me when I looked at him. “I appreciate your initiative. This was not an act of recklessness, but an act out of necessity. Your stunt with the Predacon, however, is a different story.”

“Prowl told me to do it,” I said. “Sideswipe heard him. He can vouch.”

“Hey! Don’t bring me into this,” Sideswipe said, though he didn’t sound actually offended.

“Hmm,” Optimus said. “I will have a word with Prowl, then.”

I blinked and stared at Optimus a bit blankly. “Neither of us were gonna let you die, Prime.”

“And if you had died instead?” Optimus asked.

I blinked, then turned away. “Then you’d be sad, I get it,” I said and sighed. I let Sideswipe help me with another sip. “You’re not gonna convince me your death would be better, though. We’d sit here trying to out-self-sacrifice each other all day.”

Sideswipe chuckled at that.

Optimus gave a long sigh and then stood up. “When you’ve regained your strength, I want you to meet me at the building for the new medbay.”

My wings shifted curiously, but I merely nodded. “Yes sir,” I said.

Sideswipe raised an optic ridge as Optimus left to speak with Prowl. “What’s that about?”

“Ah ‘unno,” I shrugged. “Beats going to the temporary medbay and getting chewed out by Ratchet, though. Not that he’s chewed me out before, but there’s no way he’s letting me slide with dragging my energon levels this low without a lecture on being careful. And I hate lectures.”

Sideswipe chuckled at that. “I can agree with that one.”

A couple hours, and a firmly worded lecture from Ratchet when he stormed into the ship, later, I was standing in the empty main room of the new medbay building. It wasn’t nearly ready to be moved into yet. Power still needed connecting and some rooms still needed paint. With me were Optimus, Ironhide, Jazz and Prowl. I noted the lack of any of the bots that had already been here outside of myself and Optimus.

“So, now that we’re all here,” Jazz said. “What’s this about Optimus?”

“Do you three remember aboard the Ark? When Makeshift impersonated Hound?” Optimus asked.

My wings shifted and I crossed my arms, tilting my helm. Where was he going with this?

“Yeah, what about it?” Ironhide asked.

“Do you remember what happened to him?” Optimus asked.

“We trapped him on Junkion, before it got destroyed by Megatron stealing the Requiem Blaster,” Prowl answered. “Then….then we do not know.”

“Shadebreaker knows,” Optimus said, nodding to me.

I shrugged when their optics landed on me. “Kinda? I have a bunch of knowledge of stuff. The whole reason Optimus and the others were at that pyramid was because of knowledge I have. I’m still waiting to know anything about that, by the way.” I looked at Optimus, just feeling confused.

“We’ll get there. First, Makeshift,” Optimus said.

I huffed a little. “From my knowledge, Makeshift makes an appearance on Earth, trying to infiltrate the Autobot base,” I said. “I brought it up to Optimus, even though I wasn’t entirely sure it would happen because it’s still a threat. But I brought it up as someone who would be coming into the base later, so I’m uncertain why this is the group we’re talking about this with.”

“Because,” Optimus said. “I have reason to believe Makeshift has been among us for some time now, before anyone new joined us after you.”

I dropped my arms. “Tell me you are joking, Optimus. Tell me you are joking.”

Optimus shook his helm.

“He’s been here this whole time and I missed it?” I asked, frame trembling a little as I clenched my fists. I wanted to punch something in frustration.

“Easy, femme,” Jazz said, moving over and resting his hand on my arm. “We found him once, we can find him again.”

My wings shifted agitatedly. “How do you know, Optimus?” I asked quietly.

“There was a trap laid at the pyramid,” Optimus said. “There was no Omega Key. There, perhaps, never was. It is unclear whether that was a ploy by Ser-ket so that we wouldn’t go after the others or if she was telling the truth because she was so sure we were going to die. But they were lying in wait for us. The only way they would have known when we were going to be there is if there was a mole.”

“I mean,” I said, not wanting to believe I had missed signs of Makeshift being on base. But, then, I hadn’t exactly been social. “They might have been there for ages, couldn’t they have been? Like, camping out? Since they found that scrap of information in what they pulled out of my helm when I was Shockwave’s…. experiment.” I practically spat the word. “Knowing we would eventually investigate?”

“There’s something Ser-Ket said that makes me believe they were tipped off,” Optimus said. “About how Autobots are too trusting.”

“Ah," I said. “That does sound like someone who has planted a mole would say.” I nodded and then sighed heavily.

“Arcee brought up the fact that every artifact we go after we are met by Decepticons, meanwhile the one time you went after one without a word to any of us you went unchallenged,” Optimus said. “Which is also the one time your information seemed to be faulty.”

“Wait,” I said. “So the ‘Cons are….waiting for us to go after the relics before going after them? Why? Do they just want the challenge? Or are they just hoping to pick us off that way?”

“Probably hoping to pick us off,” Ironhide said.

And then something else registered. “And is Arcee insinuating it’s me?” 

“I do not believe she actually thinks it is you,” Optimus said, making a calming motion with his hand. “And I do not believe it is you either, that’s why you are here right now. I believe she was suggesting it to give the mole a false sense of security.”

“Or she could be trying to throw us off the trail,” Prowl said.

My wings shifted slightly. “Do…do you have an idea when Makeshift replaced a bot?”

Optimus shook his helm. “It must’ve been on a mission.”

I thought for a moment. “If I went through the mission reports, I might be able to find when it happened. Maybe I could even go back to save the bot and bring them to the present.”

Optimus gave me a look.

“Not changing the past,” I told him in reassurance. “I would go back, with backup, save them, and bring them to the present time. I mean, I guess it would kind of change the past. But it depends if it works on time turner rules or paradox rules, I guess. Vector would probably stop me if it would screw everything up….Wouldn’t he? Isn’t that his job?”

“Time turner rules?” Jazz asked.

“Like in Harry Potter,” I said. “You go back and as long as you don’t meet your past self, you’re fine! Everything that you did technically happened to begin with, you just didn’t know it! I kinda did it once already. Arguably I’m in my own past right now if you think too hard about it. Cause I went to a planet and then came back at the time of my departure, missing myself by a hair. I stopped trying to think about it after a minute of debating about going forward a day. I got too paranoid that I'd miss something important, especially being the mode of transport.”

“We will discuss the idea of going back for the mech after we find out what happened to them. Using your portals to change the past is too risky to act with too little information,” Optimus said. “As for going through the mission reports, I will put that to Prowl to do. If we switch up your tasks, the mole will get suspicious.”

“And what do we do about the fact Arcee brought it up while you were probably with them?” I asked. “Do we make a makeshift brig for me to sit in while I continue to pinpoint artifact locations and act like you caught me playing double agent for the side that caused my misery?” I felt myself sneer at the mere idea of it. “Ugh, even just thinking about pretending makes me feel icky.” I shuddered and wiped at my arms, feeling like there were webs on them or something.

“It would sell the bit, if you could muster the act,” Jazz said. “Give Makeshift a nice, cozy sense of security while we sus him out.”

“Do you believe you can do that, Shadebreaker?” Optimus asked me.

“Maybe?” I said, uncertain. “I mean, I’ve always had trouble with being trapped in a room and I can’t imagine my time with Shockwave made that any better, but…if it helps catch Makeshift? I’d rather deal with it than have him keep running around us. And I’m worried about the bot he replaced.” My wings shifted anxiously. 

“If I may,” Prowl spoke up. 

Optimus motioned for him to continue.

“I have an idea that would not require a brig,” Prowl said. 

“Great, since we don’t have one anyways,” Ironhide said.

Prowl gave him the most unamused look I had ever seen. “We can place inhibitor cuffs on Shadebreaker’s wings. And post a bot to guard her at all times. Make it look like we do not trust her anymore.”

“Inhibitor cuffs?” I repeatedly questioningly.

“They would restrict your access to subspace and prevent you from using your T-Cog,” Prowl replied.

“My work data pads are all in my subspace,” I said cautiously. “And, while I keep them password protected and all that, if Makeshift’s here I don’t want to leave them around like I’ve done a couple times.”

“We will not turn those settings on,” Prowl said. “They have settings where we can allow you to pull out specific objects. It is restrictive, not altogether prohibitive unless desired. We can simply say that is what we have done. While we want it to be believable, I do not wish you to be without the ability to defend yourself.”

“I was already planning on posting a bot with you at all times,” Optimus said. 

My wings shifted. “Why?” I asked carefully.

“If Makeshift has been here the whole time, he knows of your relation to Vector Prime,” Optimus said. “That alone could make you a target of special interest to the Decepticons. Plus, they may believe you hold more information than what they may have gathered, especially having been with us now. And the development of your portals could pull Shockwave’s optics back on you if they weren’t already set on reclaiming you.”

“Oh,” I said. “That’s a lot of reasons the ‘Cons might want me.” I laughed a little nervously. 

“Of course, it will only be bots we know are not Makeshift,” Prowl said reassuringly.

“What’s this about a relation to Vector Prime?” Ironhide asked. Then he realized something. “Ohhh. That’s why you shushed me on the ship when I was going to mention your portals being like the portal Optimus used with the Blades of Time to talk to him.”

I nodded. “At the time, Wheeljack was still a suspect to me,” I told him. “And he doesn’t know the relation yet. Everyone else knew because we thought we could trust them. The real versions of them are trustworthy bots. We’re not really sure on much details other than me being related to Vector Prime, likely a daughter by Ratchet’s theories. But we’re unsure if it has to do with something Shockwave did or if I was already his daughter.”

“How do you not know who your sire is?” Jazz asked.

My wings shifted a bit. “I mean, I know who my human sire was,” I said meaningfully.

There was silence. For several minutes as the new bots took in my words and turned them over in their processors.

“Oh slag, Shockwave really put you through it,” Jazz said as the full meaning of my words registered.

“No wonder you looked so freaked out when you saw that Predacon,” Ironhide said, reaching out and rubbing my shoulder. “Talk about ghosts from your past.”

“Mhm,” I said, nodding. “If you really want caught up to speed on Shadebreaker’s Trauma Story,” I waved a hand through the air as if it would make the words appear in it, “I’m sure I’ll eventually tell you everything. But I don’t exactly feel like going into it right now with bots I just met. We have more important things to do.”

“We’ll go with Prowl’s plan,” Optimus said. “I’m sorry, Shadebreaker, but the others will all believe you to be a traitor until we catch Makeshift.”

I bowed my helm. “I understand,” I said quietly. “I will bear whatever anger they send my way to catch him. Knowing it is temporary and the truth will come out should make it easier.”

Prowl moved toward me. “I am going to place the cuffs on your wings now,” he said. “Remember, you will be able to access everything in your subspace, including your weapons, but you will not be able to transform.”

“I understand,” I said quietly, helm still bowed.

“It is not going to be comfortable,” Prowl informed me. “They were more designed for the wings of a Seeker.”

“I figured,” I said.

“You don’t have to agree to this,” Optimus said.

“I already did,” I reminded him, looking up now. “I’m dreading the other’s reactions a little bit, because I know it’s going to hurt. I went and let myself get close and now they’re gonna think me a traitor. But I’m committed. We need to catch Makeshift more than my feelings need to be protected. It’s temporary. Once it’s done, we’ll move past it. One step at a time. Just as we’ve moved past all stumbling blocks in life, right? What’s that word? Resiliency.”

Optimus nodded and then motioned for Prowl to continue.

As expected, the cuffs were extremely uncomfortable. I rolled my shoulders a bit, trying to alleviate the feeling a bit, but it didn’t really help. Ironhide gave my shoulder another reassuring rub and I smiled a bit at him, feeling the sadness in it.

“Ironhide, I’m going to have you take the first watch with her,” Optimus said. “She’s probably gonna need the support of someone who knows the truth when we tell the others she’s betrayed us.”

“You got it, Prime,” Ironhide said and his grip on my shoulder tightened a little bit. Not painfully, but as if to make sure I knew he was there for me.

I doubted he knew how much it meant to me.

Chapter Text

Chapter 9: Trouble Unseen Pt 2

The Autobots, number grown too large to all gather in the previously established tent now, were gathered in the cargo bay of the damaged ship the new arrivals had arrived on. All, except Shadebreaker, Ironhide, Prowl and Optimus. They murmured amongst themselves as Jazz looked out at them and listened. Listened to get the general idea of how they were feeling and for hints at who might be the traitor.

Jazz knew some of these bots already. Ratchet, Bumblebee and Bulkhead had served with him on the Ark. And then, of course, were the twins, who were chatting it up with Bumblebee. Wheeljack and Arcee were the ones he knew the least amount about, but that could easily be rectified.

Jazz ran a mental list of the suspects:

Ratchet, the Chief Medical Officer and Optimus’s oldest friend next to Jazz himself.

Bumblebee, the young scout, the last to emerge from the AllSpark, semi-mute mech of whom it was difficult, but not necessarily impossible, to mimic.

Bulkhead, former Wrecker, hard to imagine a bot like Makeshift taking him down easily.

Arcee, the one he knew the least about. He remembered hearing her name from Ironhide when the mech was talking about Chromia once and he knew she’d been acting as Optimus’s second-in-command up to now. He intended to learn more.

Wheeljack they had already ruled out due to the timing, but he’d keep an optic on him, too. Just in case.

The twins had just arrived with him, so they knew it wasn’t either of them. Jazz had asked Optimus if they were going to inform them of Shadebreaker’s innocence and they had come to the conclusion that letting the twins think she was guilty was perhaps the biggest sell for the act. Anyone who knew the twins knew how they treated traitors. If they gave Shadebreaker slack, the real Makeshift would suspect something.

Optimus stepped into the room on the second level balcony then silence fell over the room as everyone looked up to see him walk up to the railing and wrap his fingers around it.

“Autobots,” he said as Ironhide stepped up beside him. “I regret to inform you we have discovered a spy amongst us.”

There was a murmur and Jazz watched each bot’s reaction carefully, noting each one. The frowns. The worried looks. The looks of suspicion shared. The scowls. The looks of accusation. The irritation. And he watched as they all seemed to register who it was that was missing at once and their collective reactions to that too.

“But,” Optimus said. “Rest assured. For we have already captured the culprit.” He stepped aside to allow Prowl to usher Shadebreaker to take his spot, hands cuffed for show for this farce of a scene. “Shadebreaker admitted to Prowl leading us to that pyramid as a trap intended to take us all out.”

Shadebreaker did remarkably well not showing a reaction to the shouts from her fellow bots at this, as Jazz watched her with one optic while the other kept an optic on the gathered bots. She stood there, posture straight, expression resolute, wings held as high as the cuffs let her. She only flinched when she locked gaze with Ratchet and he turned away from her in disgust, pain clear on his face.

Interesting.  Jazz observed. But what he found more interesting was the silence from a couple other bots. Interesting indeed.

Prowl stepped up to explain the course of action they were taking with Shadebreaker in the absence of a proper brig. She’d be cuffed by the wings at all times. Have a guard at all times. She was allowed access to subspace only for her datapads and energon cubes, nothing else. She would not be allowed off base for any reason. Would not be allowed to formally join the Autobots—she flinched at that one despite knowing it was an act. 

After the speech, Prowl and Ironhide both ushered Shadebreaker back through the door and Optimus turned to dismiss the bots before leaving himself. The bots left behind were left to wonder amongst themselves what was going on and how they had been fooled by the femme and if it could possibly even be true.

“You need your energon,” Ironhide said for what felt like the fifty-millionth time in the last two hours.

“I’m not hungry,” I said, staring at the datapad in my hand as I sat in the sand. 

Ironhide had agreed to walk with me to the beach after the meeting. So I could be away from the immediate reactions of the Autobots. But we’d been out here four hours now and he was getting irritable.

“Don’t lie,” Ironhide gruffed.

“I’m not lying,” I said. 

“Shadebreaker,” Ironhide growled.

“I’m scared of Ratchet, ok?” I finally said, putting the datapad down and looking at the black mech who sat in front of me. 

He looked back at me in surprise.

“I know what words he has for me. They’re the same words I have said to someone I once had in my own life,” I said. “They’re the words I would have for me if I was him. And they’re going to hurt a lot from him. I told him about that ex-friend and now he believes me to be just like them. Just like the friend I stopped talking to because they refused to change and I couldn't take it anymore. A lying, manipulative piece of shit with no care for how I hurt people along the way.” My frame shook in both anger and pain and I squirmed at how it made the uncomfortableness of the cuffs much more noticeable. Then I sighed heavily and ran a hand down my face.

“I know I need energon,” I said. “But I feel sick thinking of eating right now. My spark just hurts. It hurts so much right now.”

“Aw, femme,” Ironhide said and I could hear the spark break in his own voice. 

“And the fact Ratchet hasn't come out here to bring me my energon or commed me about it tells me enough about how angry he is,” I said, looking down. “He is very good about reminding me when I am caught up in work.” I waved at the datapads.

“You still need to eat.” Ironhide said.

“I know,” I said.

Ironhide shifted, looking up at the hill to his left. “Tell you what,” he said. “Since you're not ready to face Ratchet’s wrath, why don't we go to the ship and I can drop you off with Prowl while I grab some cubes from the stores? Primus knows Prowl probably needs a reminder himself.”

“Alright,” I said, relaxing some. “That's a fair compromise. I know I'm going to have to face the wrath at some point.”

“I doubt you’re going to be able to hide from everyone the whole time,” Ironhide agreed.

“I can sure try, though,” I said, smiling ruefully. “Somewhat. I’m sure you guys won’t always be able to bring me out to the beach to work…plus the others are likely to come to the beach at points as well.”

Ironhide helped me gather the datapads and make sure they were clear of sand before I put them in my subspace. Then we shook out the tarp and folded it up neatly and tight and put it away as well. After that was done, we used the hose to rinse off the sand that clung to our armor before making the trek back to the ship we had earlier vacated.

The trip to the ship was silent, Ironhide couldn’t risk conversing with me as if we were friends once we could be seen cause it could ruin the illusion. Occasionally he would lightly “jab” me as if to push me to move faster when I hesitated to glance at a passing person. The humans had seemingly caught on to what was going on, cause even the ones I’d made friends with scowled at me as we passed. It hurt, but not more than I’d expected. 

It hurt more to see the scowls on the twins’ faces when we passed by them. I may not know them, but I knew enough about them to hope to be friends with them and care that they thought I was a traitor. I also knew their reputation. I was a little scared of running into them at what to them would be an opportune moment. I was a little surprised they didn’t come harass me anyways.

We made it to the ship without incident, though. No one stopped us, by some miracle. Or maybe it was because it was Ironhide and no one messed with Ironhide. I remembered referring to him as the crazy gun-toting uncle and that hadn’t been for nothing.

“Prowl’s probably in the storage room we’d converted to a war room of sorts,” Ironhide said. “It’s where he does all his data sorting.”

I nodded as I followed his gentle directions via touch as I walked just in front of him. I froze a few steps into the mentioned room, having looked up to greet Prowl when he noticed us only to see Ratchet right there. Having turned from talking to Prowl. He had had his normal gruff look on his face, but upon seeing me his look darkened into a scowl I’d never seen on his face before. It took tremendous effort not to flinch away.

“I brought Shadebreaker for your turn on guard duty,” Ironhide said, likely to cover up the real reason we’d come here—intending to avoid Ratchet while getting energon in my system.

Prowl nodded. If this turn of events threw him off, he didn’t show it. “Understood,” he said.

Ratchet moved toward us and I moved quickly out of his way so he could pass. He paused when he was parallel to me, not looking at me. Then he shoved a cube of energon into my chest. 

I fumbled a little when I took it into my hands, whole frame shaking as it felt like my spark was being ripped out of my chest. Then I watched as he left without a word. I looked down at the energon cube silently, waiting for Ratchet to have a chance to be well out of earshot. 

“And here I thought it would be the words that would hurt most,” I said quietly as I felt a tear fall.

Ironhide reached over and rubbed my shoulder. “We’ll get through this, fembot.”

I gusted air through my systems, whole frame shuddering, and wiped away tears that spilled out. “I don’t suppose I could…pass on the energon…”

“If you do not want to get hooked up to an IV when you inevitably crash, and face the full brunt of Ratchet’s wrath, I would suggest you drink it,” Prowl told me.

“If I puke, it’s on you, then,” I said, tilting the cube slightly toward.

Prowl looked slightly disturbed.

I ignored him and leaned against the wall, sliding down it until I was sitting and began slowly drinking the cube. Maybe if I drank it slow enough I would be ok. I watched Ironhide go over to Prowl and talk to him quietly. Prowl’s optics were covered by a visor like mine, but his doorwings were expressive enough I could read some surprise and then concern when he looked my way again. I wondered what that was about briefly before dismissing it. They spoke a little bit longer before Prowl turned back to his work and then Ironhide came back over to me and knelt.

“I’m going to speak with Prime,” Ironhide said quietly. “Gotta make it look like I really was dropping you off for Prowl’s turn at guard duty.” He shrugged.

I shrugged as well. “You can relay the locations of two more artifacts while you’re at it. I managed to pinpoint another Omega Key somehow with the limited information about it I had, maybe we can confirm if they exist or not this time. And the Resonance Blaster. Both of them were pretty tricky ones. I’ve gotten through almost the whole list. Only two locations left. Just need to fetch them all—hopefully.”

“We’ll keep that you’re almost done to ourselves, huh?” Ironhide said quietly. “It might get dangerous if word gets out you’ve nearly run out of places to send us to our potential doom.”

“Heh,” I chuckled without humor. “I believe that. I’ve kept secrets for nigh on ten years. I think I can pretend like I had a shit ton more to do.”

“Good,” Ironhide said, patting my shoulder.

I pulled a datapad out from subspace and passed it to him. “Just give that to Optimus. He has the code to access it.”

“You got it,” Ironhide said. 

I watched him leave for a moment and then just focused on my energon.

Ratchet stormed back into medbay in a bad mood. He was angry, but most of all he was hurt. It had taken everything in him not to lash out at Shadebreaker with everything he had when she’d walked into that room where he’d been talking to Prowl. All that talk from her of being a bot of her word, of carrying herself with honor. Pfft. All an act. All a big, fat manipulation. Exactly the thing she’d claimed to detest.

His spark ached at how they had almost lost a number of their team. Almost lost Optimus. Because they had trusted her. Trusted her sweet face and act of dedication to the cause of minimizing the damage from the Decepticon having her information first. Clearly this had been Megatron’s plan all along.

And he had fallen for it. For her.

His spark twisted at this thought as he leaned against his medbay counter, grateful no one appeared to be in the tent right now. Everyone was on patrol or on the practice range, or doing some other duty while they managed the results of finding out they’d had a spy among them. They weren’t there to see him hurl a wrench into the most solid object in the tent—a stack of solid metal supply boxes. 

He collapsed, sitting on the nearest bed as he ran a hand over his optics. Wheeljack had been right, he was realizing now. To a degree. He had found himself developing feelings for the femme. He hadn’t been letting himself acknowledge them, but they were there as much as he denied it. She was still hurting from losing her last romantic partner, a partner she had loved deeply from what he’d gathered. So he’d dismissed his feelings as simple care for a new friend. There was no way she was ready to even think about romance again.

Unless that had been part of the act. He didn’t know. 

Had anything she said been real?

How could he be so blind?

How could he let his spark open like that?

It was the last time all over again.

He needed to do something to get his mind off things. The last parts had finally arrived to start work on the Ground Bridge. He should work on it. They were gonna need it all the more now that their easy transportation was a traitor.

He blocked out the pain in his spark as he got up and moved toward the supply boxes, comming Wheeljack to come help him.

The following days after the big reveal that I was a “traitor” were rough, but I fell into a kind of routine. Prowl often had me in the mornings, being the earliest rising trusted bot next to Optimus—and the bots who didn’t know had collectively bombarded Prowl with demands that Optimus not be allowed alone with me. It hurt. Because they—with the exception of the twins—knew I had been alone with Optimus plenty of times with better chances of taking him out than now with the cuffs on me. It was like the brand of traitor made me ten times more dangerous on its own so even had I been a snail I’d be treated like a defcon alpha threat or something. With Prowl, we would sit in the ship and work on our respective tasks silently.

Ironhide would take a midday shift with me, carting me around with him as he performed maintenance checks on all our weaponry in the arsenal. When no one was around to see, he would whisper to me the details of each weapon we had at our disposal and tell me stories about before the war. Sometimes of the war if I asked the right question.

Finally, Jazz got me in the evenings. Time with him was spent a lot more casually. He saw me when I was worn down from the day, from keeping up appearing as though nothing was bothering me. As if I was unbothered by the fact I had nearly killed five Autobots. As if nothing anyone was saying was going to crack me. He thought I needed time to recover from it—and was right. So he would take me to the beach, or just to explore the parts of the island that weren’t being built upon yet. Whatever would get us away from the others. And we just talked. One of us would info-dump about something or another and the other would listen. Or, if I was in need of it, he would listen while I expressed my emotions about the day’s events.

I could see why Jazz was Optimus’s best friend. But it was hard to think of the word friend during this time when so many were angry at me.

It was hard to be treated as a traitor by those I had started calling friends. Even though I took a while before I opened up, once I decided someone was my friend, I was all the way in there. There was no real acquaintance step with me, aside from maybe with work colleagues. You either were my friend or you weren’t. I kept you at a distance or you were right there in my heart with my closest friends. No inbetween. No “you just earned this title so you don’t get all my love, only a little of it.” Once you got access to my love, you got all of it. 

So each hard, icy look from Arcee was a stab in the spark. Each time Bulkhead shut up the moment he saw me and walked away if whatever task my guard had to do required me to be where he had been, it twisted the knife further. The twins sneered and called me names and purposely bumped me when they passed me. It hurt, but because I had not met them before that day, it didn’t hurt as much.

Ratchet’s behavior hurt the most, though. He hadn’t said a word to me yet, but I could read his thoughts in his optics just as well every time he looked at me. Traitor. Liar. Manipulator. I could see I had hurt him the most with my made-up traitorous ways. I could see he had taken this to mean everything between us had been a lie. I didn’t need to hear the words to read them on his face, in his body language, in the way he avoided me. In the way he threw himself into his work on the Ground Bridge.

Bumblebee seemed to be going easier on me, giving me looks of sympathy and motioning toward the cuffs while handsigning words—making me wish desperately I had learned sign language like I had meant to for years. I had a small impression that the mech didn’t entirely buy into the idea that I was a traitor.

Wheeljack perplexed me a little bit. Everytime I caught him looking at me it was with a contemplative look on his face. He looked like he was trying to figure something out. Like he couldn’t believe the farce we had cooked up. After our mission together, perhaps he had seen more of me than I had believed. Definitely more than the twins if he did doubt it. I wasn’t sure if it meant that he could still be the traitor or if he was just more observant. Maybe the fact I hadn’t hurt him as much contributed to his lack of hostility and ability to look at it more clearly. He was a mech of science, after all. Had I not hurt Ratchet so much, maybe Ratchet would be looking at me with the same analytical look instead of the anger and hate.

It was day four before I ran into any real trouble, however. The showers were finally complete and Prowl and I were both up at the crack of dawn. After a brief discussion we had decided that it should be safe for us to foray into the showers to use it and rid our frames of the accumulation of gunk that happened when you lived on an organic world.

“Remember, if anything does happen, just yell and I will be right over,” Prowl told me as we stood in the foyer of the building, before it split into a mech side and a femme side.

I nodded. “Understood, Prowl,” I said. “But no one else is typically up this early. And, if they were, it’d be for patrol, not showers.”

Prowl nodded. 

He knew this. He also knew I was saying it to fill the silence because I was nervous. I had warned him about that habit of mine already, because I knew he liked the silence we usually spent our mornings in. Neither of us were certain how it would go if Arcee walked in. For one, she was a suspect. For two, he didn’t know her well. For three, I knew her well enough to know she had a temper.

Before I could be tempted to eat up any more of that silence, I moved quickly into the femme side of the showers. It was stocked already with soaps, each one labeled with who they were for. Not that there were many on this side. Just two. One for Arcee. One for myself. I wondered if the one who did the stocking even knew what was going on or not. Some of the humans knew, but I didn’t know if they all did. But if they did, they clearly thought I would still be allowed to get cleaned. After all, I was still allowed to walk around mostly free.

I sighed at the thoughts and grabbed the one with the sticky note with my name on it. I took the sticky note off and crumbled it, putting it in my subspace. I wondered if I should put my soap in subspace when I was done as I chose a showerhead. I noticed a lack of privacy curtains and just assumed it was because Cybertronians weren’t as private as humans when it came to hygiene. I wasn’t here to be thorough, though, as much as I’d like to. The cuffs kinda prevented that.

I turned on the water and stepped aside to let it warm up. I wanted to shift my wings so the sensors could pick up the energies around me, but the cuffs prevented that, too. I had gotten used to the sensors in my wings letting me know when bots were approaching. Now, without them, I felt half blind. My visor at least allowed me to see lifesigns through walls, but not behind me or above or below without turning my helm. So I was left feeling rather vulnerable as I waited for the water and then as I washed.

I had just started to relax into the shower, rinsing the soap off when the consequences of being separated from my guard came. And the consequences of my sensors being tied up so I didn’t get an alert until it was too late.

“I see Prowl let the traitor out of his sight,” the voice was Sunstreaker’s and it was dripping venom.

My wings tensed, making the cuff feel all the more uncomfortable. I’d gotten used to it, but there was no missing it when my wings wanted desperately to move. I didn’t move, but I glanced over my shoulder. “I see your creators didn’t teach you manners,” I replied back with a controlled calm. I suspected I knew what was coming, but I knew for the sake of the act I could not act like I was afraid of him. I knew I should yell, but I found I had the same problem I had had as a human.

When faced with danger. My scream left me.

Sunstreaker sneered. He moved further into the room. “Manners don’t matter when dealing with traitor scum.”

I continued rinsing, counting the seconds as he walked toward me, calculating how long I had until he reached me and what I might do. He was not Makeshift, I knew that. I did not want to hurt him. I knew he wanted to hurt me, however. I had the right to defend myself. A traitor would kill him if capable and call it self-defense. It would be self-defense. But I wasn’t a traitor. Not really. I didn’t want to hurt him. But everything in me told me to fight. Because that’s what you did when threatened with violence. You fought back. But he was a fellow Autobot. A friend. In theory, even if not in name. I didn’t hurt my friends. 

“I don’t want to fight you, Sunstreaker,” I said calmly as he grew nearer. “I merely wished to get clean. Well,” I shrugged to bring attention to the cuffs. “As clean as I can get.”

Sunstreaker growled and then he moved forward quickly, slamming me against the wall. The water continued running above our helms, spraying us with bits that gravity won against the water pressure for. His forearm pressed uncomfortably against my throat as he pushed me against the wall. My wings hurt where they connected at the pressure, the action he was taking forcing them into an unnatural position due to the cuffs.

“That will make this all the easier,” he snarled in my face. “I don’t know what you said to Prowl and Prime to get them to let you walk around like you’re still one of us, but that’s going to end now.”

“I still have information you bots need,” I said, ignoring the pain in my spark at my own words. “Important information that, if accurate, could lead to the restoration of Cybertron.” I could barely get the words out because of the pressure he was putting on my neck and I realized his arm was right where my vocoder must sit. “If you kill me, the Decepticons will be the only ones with that information.”

Sunstreaker snarled again. “I don’t have to kill you to make my point.” He grabbed my shoulders then and slammed me into the ground. But he kept his hold on me while doing so, so even though it hurt he managed to do it without it making a loud sound that would alert Prowl to what was going on. He pinned me there, one arm pinned against my back with one hand and a foot on my opposite shoulder to prevent use of the other.

Damn my inability to scream in these situations. How had I not thought about it? Why did I assume a new body would allow that problem to go away when I knew strong emotions still made me silent? I needed to talk to Prowl about an alternate form of alert, cause my comm was not working either. Jammed or down, I wasn’t sure, but all I was getting from it was static.

Sunstreaker twisted my arm, grabbing it with both hands to add enough force that I felt a snap. I cried out at that, but it was a rather pitiful cry and the tears was more frustration that there was no way Prowl was gonna hear it.

“That was a really nice line on the ship,” Sunstreaker said, venom in his voice. “‘Only thing I’m sure of is that I don’t want to see another Autobot die.’ Real poetic.” He put pressure on my shoulder and I felt something in it pop.

I hissed in pain at that one. 

“I bet you were just laughing at all of us in your helm while you pretended to play hero, huh? What’d you really do with Serk-Ket, huh? Laugh about how naive we Autobots are together?” Sunstreaker asked. Then he grabbed one of my wings. 

But before he could do anything, there was a loud BANG as the door to the showers flew open.

“SUNSTREAKER STAND DOWN!” Prowl roared.

Sunstreaker snarled.

“I mean it,” Prowl said at a much more normal volume and I glanced up to see he was pointing his weapon directly at the mech’s chest.

I saw Sideswipe behind him, not peeking in as I might expect, but being cuffed by Ironhide.

“Why the slag should I?” Sunstreaker asked as Ironhide came in.

“You know this is not how we treat prisoners,” Prowl said. “Now. Get. Off. The. Femme. Now.”

I felt Sunstreaker shift, probably watching Ironhide as he moved around us and considering his options.

“Last time I checked, we don’t typically let prisoners wander around base, listen in on conversations and take showers either,” Sunstreaker growled. Pressure increased from his foot and I whimpered at the pain as energon leaked out from under my shoulder armor.

“Sunstreaker, there are a lot of things you don’t know,” Ironhide said.

“Like what?!” Sunstreaker snapped.

“It is classified,” Prowl said, wings taking on a stern tilt. “You will know in time. Now get off of Shadebreaker or I will shoot you.”

Sunstreaker growled, putting more pressure on his foot on my shoulder. I was sure it was about to get literally crushed by the weight. I felt his hand on my wing grip the edge.

Then Prowl fired.

The shot hit Sunstreaker in his shoulder by my calculations and it forced him to release my wing and lean back off my shoulder.

Ironhide pounced, tackling Sunstreaker to the ground behind me.

Prowl moved forward quickly, even as I started to crawl forward, away from the snarling and angry twin. He knelt in front of me, assessing my injuries. “This needs Ratchet,” he said. He placed a hand lightly on my uninjured shoulder.

I bowed my helm in acceptance. I thought about arguing with him to see Wheeljack about it instead, but I didn’t have it in me to argue.

“Frag you, she doesn’t deserve Ratchet,” Sunstreaker snarled.

I was glad he could not see the pain his words put on my face. 

Prowl saw it though and he stood up, giving the twin a dark glare before walking around me. “You are lucky we do not currently have a brig to throw you in,” he said firmly. “You know this is not how we treat our prisoners. All prisoners are to be treated with the respect due any living being.”

“She’s a traitor Prowl,” Sunstreaker reminded.

Prowl looked Sunstreaker over. “She did not harm you despite the fact you assaulted her when she was vulnerable and had explicit permission to defend herself. And we know she could have done damage to you had she tried given her brief mission history. She chose not to. Think about that while you and your brother stew in the ship for the next two days.”

“Frag you, Prowl,” Sunstreaker snarled.

Steps told me Prowl was returning to me where I was laying there, listening and absently watching Sideswipe watch us. Prowl stopped next to me and knelt once more. I looked up at him, seeing a face as unreadable as a blank paper. Then he carefully helped me to my pedes.

We stood in silence while Ironhide escorted Sunstreaker out of the femme side and then directed Sideswipe to follow them. I watched as the red twin watched them pass and then look back at us. He looked me up and down once, glanced at Prowl and then scampered after Ironhide when the mech called for him forcefully.

“You should get dry before we go,” Prowl said even as he moved to turn the water I’d been using off.

“How? It hurts too much to move either one of my arms,” I replied, tone tired. I was just tired. Four days. That was all it took before someone decided to take matters into their own hands. Not to mention the rest.

Prowl considered for a moment. “I will assist you, but we must be quick before Arcee comes.” He moved toward the towels.

“Well, that’s a lovely thought,” I said sarcastically. “Maybe if she does I can be assaulted twice in one morning.”

Prowl shook his helm. “She will not assault you with me here,” he said as he approached me with a fluffy white towel. “And I would not leave you alone over here again. Not until this is over.”

“Guess I just won’t shower until then,” I said dryly as he started carefully drying my shoulder. I did my best not to flinch.

“Why did you not yell for me as I told you to?” Prowl asked.

“My vocs glitched,” I answered, motioning toward them with my good hand. “I- I miscalculated, I guess. As a human in such scenarios I always found myself unable to scream. I guess I just thought having a new body meant that problem went away. It was foolish of me not to consider the possibility that it would still be a problem, especially given how I went mute after my first mission. Emotions, lovely things they are sometimes, when they negatively affect your physical capabilities.” 

I sighed heavily. “My instinct was to fight back.”

“Why didn’t you?” Prowl asked. “You had permission.”

“Because I know Sunstreaker is not Makeshift,” I replied. “And I know how he feels. Everything he wanted to do to me is what I want to do to Makeshift. I didn’t want to do any of that to him. He’s a good mech, if misguided. I didn’t really wanna hurt him. And I’ve been in enough tussles since ending up in this mess to know I could’ve if I reacted fast enough. So I confused my instincts long enough where I couldn’t anymore.”

Prowl took a step back to stare at me for a moment, towel in one hand. “You are a…”

“Self-sacrificing wreck?” I asked, grinning wryly. “I know.”

Prowl merely shook his helm at me. Then he finished helping me dry off and then we were off. We did, in fact, pass by Arcee on the way out, and I avoided eye contact with her.

“No,” Ratchet said firmly. “Get that traitor out of my medbay.”

“Ratchet,” Prowl said even as Shadebreaker shrank at the medic’s ire. “You cannot deny her medical care just because she is not an Autobot. Section Zelta Subsection 4250B of the Autobot handbook states that all prisoners have access to proper medical care provided on the base at which they are being held. That is your expertise.”

Ratchet growled, looking like he might keep arguing with Prowl.

Prowl kept his wings firm and his expression neutral. He would stand his ground and Ratchet would bend and provide Shadebreaker with the care she needed. It was unlike Ratchet to deny anyone care. He was the kind of mech who would treat even the worst Decepticon if they came into his medbay, especially if Optimus asked him to. Ironhide had told him he suspected Ratchet had broken some kind of bond with Shadebreaker upon learning she was a traitor. This meant the perceived slight had hurt the medic a great deal and that accounted for the hostilities. 

Still, the longer the two mechs stared at each other, the more Prowl wondered whether he and Jazz were looking the most closely at the wrong bots.

Then, finally, as if reading his thoughts and doubts, Ratchet sighed, relenting. “Fine, bring her in.” He moved away to gather what he knew he’d need.

Prowl almost sighed in relief. But he knew they were not out of the woods. Ratchet was still a suspect himself, after all. He doubted Makeshift had garnered enough skill in the med field to impersonate Ratchet, but the possibility was there. He’d have to watch the medic while he worked like a cyber-hawk.

He guided Shadebreaker gently over to one of the medbay beds while taking a look around the tent to see who was there. That’s when he saw Optimus just extricating himself from a conversation with one of the humans and coming over.

“What has happened?” Optimus asked.

“We went to the showers this morning, thinking it would be safe,” Prowl said. “It was a miscalculation. The twins slipped in while I was occupied and Sunstreaker assaulted her while Sideswipe stood watch. They planted a jamming device so she could not comm anyone for help and her vocs glitched, preventing her from calling out.”

“And Sunstreaker?” Optimus asked as Ratchet neared the bed again.

“Stewing in the ship with his brother,” Prowl replied. "Uninjured, except for a shot from myself and some scuffs from Ironhide." He finished in Praxian, knowing Optimus would understand it while Ratchet wouldn’t.

Ratchet glanced at him at that, narrowing his optics slightly, but then turned toward Shadebreaker, running a scan on her shoulder first.

Optimus placed a hand on Prowl’s shoulder.

"We thought you were on patrol this morning," Prowl whispered in Praxian.

"I had to ask Ironhide to take it, because something came up,” Optimus replied. 

“I see,” Prowl said. “It’s a good thing. You take different routes. Ironhide’s was closer and he noticed the door ajar by just a touch and went to investigate. Any later and this might be a completely different conversation.”

Optimus hummed solemnly.

“Do you two have anything better to do than talk ominously in Praxian in front of my patient?” Ratchet asked grouchily.

“Not really,” Prowl said, allowing a rare glint of mischief flash across his visor.

Shadebreaker chuckled slightly at that, but she sobered when Ratchet glared darkly at her. Her expression fell and it was obvious she was doing her best not to break into tears at the medics harsh treatment of her.

Despite his harsh manner, however, Ratchet was still gentle when he removed her shoulder in order to get a better look at her mangle joint. Prowl internally winced at the sight. Sunstreaker had very nearly completely crushed it and it was clearly out of socket. 

“This is going to need surgery,” Ratchet said, lightly touching it with his fingertips. It looked like a gentle and reassuring touch, but Prowl knew he was merely gathering information with the tiny sensors in his fingertips.  

Shadebreaker bowed her helm and looking at her hands, palm up on her knees. She was tired, both Prowl and Optimus could see that. She was tired and hurting and Ratchet would see it too if he wasn’t blinded by his own pain.

“Just as I finally got you out of my medbay,” Ratchet grouched, moving away to prep a sedative.

Shadebreaker took in a gust of air as if fortifying herself against a wave of assault. Ratchet’s words probably felt like an assault to the poor femme. Her frame shook a little and then she gusted the air out. By the time Ratchet returned, she looked unbothered, but Prowl and Optimus both knew that wasn’t true. They also knew they couldn’t say anything without ruining the cover. The three of them were not the only ones in the tent after all.

Chapter Text

Chapter 10: Trouble Unseen Pt 3

Sunstreaker glared at the wall. He didn't get it. Shadebreaker was a traitor. Why was Prowl treating her as if she wasn't? He knew Prowl. The mech had no more tolerance for traitors than he did. While what Prowl had said about prisoners wasn't wrong he had never made such an argument about it before. Merely stopped him, punished him and moved on.

"What did Prowl mean about her choosing not to hurt you, Sunny?" Sideswipe asked from next to him quietly.

Sunstreaker glanced at his brother and realized how uncertain he looked. Sideswipe had been uncertain from the start, having been conflicted by the way Shadebreaker had behaved on the ship. Sunstreaker had believed it was because his trusting nature had just led him to fall for her tricks more easily. Now he was second guessing.

"She didn't fight back," Sunstreaker said after a long moment, turning back to look at the wall. "While I was approaching, I thought she would. She'd tensed, her frame shifted as if preparing for a fight, but she did nothing. Just stood there until I was on top of her. And then she didn't even struggle. She didn't move until Ironhide tackled me off of her."

He felt Sideswipe staring at him with wide optics. "But why not?"

"I don't know," Sunstreaker said.

"She already confessed," Sideswipe said. "She doesn't have to pretend."

"Unless the confession was the pretend," Sunstreaker said, realization hitting him like a truck.

Sideswipe's optics widened even more—Sunstreaker hadn't known it was possible for them to get that wide. "What do you mean? Optimus said-"

"That's right," Sunstreaker nodded. "He said. Shadebreaker said nothing in that meeting. She was silent. Maybe they were afraid she'd give herself away if she spoke then. But how else do you explain Prowl's reaction? Has he ever asked me to think about a traitor's actions before?"

Sideswipe thought about that for a minute. "No…" he said. "But why would Shadebreaker pretend to be a traitor? Everyone hates her now….Well…almost everyone."

"There must be a real traitor," Sunstreaker said. "And she's pretending to lure them into a sense of security until they make a mistake. Remember what you told me about Makeshift?"

"Ooohhhh," Sideswipe said. "Slag. Who do-" He cut himself off as the door to their temporary cell opened.

Sunstreaker looked to see Ratchet walking in carrying a scanner. His optics watched him as he approached, wondering if it could be Ratchet. Ratchet, who had served on the Ark with Sideswipe. Ratchet who had known Optimus just as long as Jazz. Optimus would know if it was Ratchet, right? Unless Makeshift had really upped his game.

"Ratchet! Buddy!" Sideswipe said cheerfully. "How's our best friend?"

Ratchet glared darkly at him.

Someone's in a foal mood, Sunstreaker thought as Sideswipe flinched away.

Ratchet turned his glare to Sunstreaker. "I've brought your lunch and I'm here to see to your injuries."

Sunstreaker grunted in response. He felt Sideswipe nudge a question over their bond and he responded in the negative. They couldn't risk telling Ratchet their epiphany in case he was the shifter. In fact, Sunstreaker would feel a lot safer if… ah, he just saw Jazz peek in the doorway long enough for him to see him and then disappear again. That was reassuring.

Ratchet removed Sunstreaker's shoulder armor carefully and set it aside. Then he scanned the joint where Prowl's shot had hit.

"You're lucky Prowl didn't use his Investigator Special on you," Ratchet told him gruffly.

"I'm sure he just didn't want to risk injuring your pet informant," Sunstreaker growled bitterly. Had to keep up the act that he hadn't figured anything out.

Ratchet's expression darkened at that. "Look, I'm not too happy about the way it's being handled either," he said darkly. "But you can't keep going around beating up prisoners, Sunstreaker. It's against the Autobot code."

Sunstreaker scoffed at that, but he filed this information for later analyzing. He knew Ratchet well enough to know his words meant he wasn't in on the scheme. Which meant one of two things. He was a suspect, that much was clear. But either he was the shifter, or he was very hurt by Shadebreaker's imagined slights.

"I mean it," Ratchet said as he worked on his shoulder. "How many times am I going to keep having to patch you up over the same thing?"

"As many as it takes," Sunstreaker snarled. "These 'Cons need to learn not to play with our sparks if they don't want burned."

Ratchet was silent, mouth forming into a thin line. Sunstreaker didn't know if that meant he was agreeing or just giving up.

After finishing work on his shoulder, Ratchet ran a scan over Sideswipe to make sure he didn't need repairs as well and then provided them each with a cube of energon. Then he left them to continue their previous discussion in peace. They waited until he had time to get sufficiently away.

"Anyways," Sideswipe said, moving closer to his twin. "Who do you suppose it could be?"

"Anyone who was already here, I suspect," Sunstreaker said glumly. "Shadebreaker didn't fight me because she knew it wasn't me. That means those of us who arrived on the ship aren't suspects."

"But…if it's a Shifter, they could be be shifting between bots, couldn't they?" Sideswipe asked.

"And risk being in the same room as the bot they're impersonating? I think Makeshift must've upped his game since the Ark. Otherwise, I feel like he'd been caught by now, with as few bots who are here."

"Oh, well that's not good at all," Sideswipe said.

"Indeed," Sunstreaker agreed.

"You're going to need to go easy for the next several days while your nanobots finish the healing process," Ratchet said as he fixed my right arm in a sling.

"Because I'm doing such strenuous activities as it is," I said dryly.

Ratchet glowered at me and I tried not to flinched. He tightened the strap just a little too roughly and then adjusted it looser again when it ended up too tight. "Do not move this arm until I tell you that you can."

"Hm," I just hummed.

Ratchet glowered at me as he backed away and I could tell he wanted to say something as he stared at me for a moment.

I sighed. "If you want to yell at me, Ratchet, just do it," I said. I motioned with my bandaged, but not in a sling arm. "Have at it."

Ratchet got visibly more angry then and I sensed Ironhide shifting behind me. "Would anything I say to you even matter? Did any of it matter?"

I bowed my helm at that. I wanted to answer him. I really, really did. My spark ached at the fact I couldn't. Not until we knew who Makeshift was impersonating. It could be Ratchet, as unlikely as I thought it was.

Ratchet scoffed at my silence. He waved a hand as he turned away. "Get out of my medbay." His tone was scorching to my hurting soul.

I climbed down from the bed, Ironhide close enough to help if I really needed it. I took one last look at the mech's back before departing the tent, Ironhide right behind me. I just kept walking, standing up straight as if unbothered as Ironhide guided me with a hand on my shoulder.

I ignored the stares of the nearby humans. I ignored the glares from the nearby bots. None of them mattered to me in that moment in the face of Ratchet's pain. It hurt knowing I had hurt him in the same way I had been hurt. I had never wanted that. I could only hope I could repair the damage when this was over. If he even wanted to talk to me then. If any of them even did. For the same was true for them all, after all.

Prowl frowned slightly as he listened to Jazz's reports about his findings. Then he compared them to his own. Something he'd noticed between his observations and Jazzs's was that if this was indeed Makeshift, the mech had stepped up his game since the Ark. Not only were all the bots who were suspects of different mass than Makeshift, but it seemed like Makeshift was sticking to only one bot to impersonate.

There were no cases where any one bot was ever spotted twice. Every bot could be found for any given point of time. And no unknowns had been seen either. That was part of why the investigation was taking so long. They were trying to determine if Makeshift was changing forms or not. It didn't appear as though he was. Last they encountered him—he'd made it seem like doing that would kill him.

"Makeshift must've really upped his game," Jazz said, clearly having come to the same conclusion.

"If it is even Makeshift," Prowl said contemplatively.

"You think one of the bots may truly be a traitor?" Jazz asked, sounding skeptical.

"Or," Prowl said meaningfully. "This is a Shifter we have not dealt with before. One more skilled than Makeshift. Able to hold onto a singular form for long periods of time."

"That does sound like a possibility," Jazz said. "And even Shadebreaker has said there have bits of information that has turned out inaccurate."

Prowl nodded. "She has shared that with me as well," he said.

"You have an idea of which bot it is?" Jazz asked, tilting his helm.

"I think I have narrowed it down to two main suspects," Prowl said. "Based upon your observations and the reports on which bots the Decepticons might have had the opportunity to replace them."

"Great! Now we just gotta figured out which one it is!" Jazz said.

"I think I have an idea of how to lure them out," Prowl said. "But we might have to let the twins out sooner."

"Good thing you didn't tell anyone how long you locked them up for," Jazz smirked.

"Indeed," Prowl said dryly.

Convincing the twins had been easier than Prowl had expected. They both seemed eager to pay the Shifter back for playing their fellow bots like a hand of cards. And Sunstreaker, Prowl thought, probably felt itching to make up for his misjudgment of Shadebreaker.

He'd gone over the plan with Shadebreaker as well and, unsurprisingly, she'd agreed. She seemed to agree to anything that she felt would succeed in the intended goal. Prowl didn't know whether he approved or not. He suspected, however, that she knew how to use discretion. Her willingness to put her own life in danger worried him just a little, though. Self-sacrificing indeed.

The difficulty would be convincing Ratchet to go along with the plan. It was, after all, very risky. And the medic was likely going to resist it heavily upon learning what he was about to tell him.

"What's this about, Prowl?" Ratchet asked, looking highly displeased to be here. He was always displeased to be in the presence of Shadebreaker these days.

They'd called him to the almost ready medbay, the same place they'd held the first meeting to discuss the spy among them. It was dark inside and they could just barely see each other—Ratchet, Shadebreaker, the twins and, of course, Prowl himself. Jazz was keeping tabs on the suspects and Optimus and Ironhide were off base, trusting the remainder of the investigation to Prowl and Jazz.

"We decided it is time to let you in on what is going on," Prowl replied after a moment.

Ratchet raised an optic ridge. "And just what is that?"

"There is a traitor among us," Prowl said.

Ratchet scowled. "Do you think I'm blind?" He motioned vaguely at Shadebreaker.

"It is not Shadebreaker, you dingbat," Sunstreaker said bluntly. "It's a Shifter."

Ratchet paused, raising his optic ridges at the mech in surprise. He stared at him, then looked at Shadebreaker, who stood there without reacting in any visible way. Her wings were still cuffed and arms still bandaged and in a sling from the yellow twins beating that morning. Then Ratchet looked at Prowl for confirmation.

Prowl nodded. "Shadebreaker has been posing as a traitor to lure the Shifter into a false sense of security," he said. "They knew we suspected a mole from something Arcee had said. We came up with the idea that if they thought we believed we'd caught the mole they'd slip up."

Prowl watched Ratchet take in this information. He watched how he realized how horribly he'd been to Shadebreaker and she hadn't even been guilty.

"Do not feel bad, Ratchet," Shadebreaker said softly. "For how you treated me. It is how I would've treated me as well. I knew what I was stepping into. I do not blame you. Anymore than I blame Sunstreaker for hurting me and I don't blame him for that either."

Prowl saw Sunstreaker dart a look of surprise at Shadebreaker then glance over at him as if to confirm. He gave the twin a small nod to confirm that Shadebreaker had expressed the same sentiment regarding him to him as well.

Ratchet looked almost pained. "I'm so sorry, Shade'," he said. "For everything. Had I known…"

"That's the point," Shadebreaker said, tilting her helm with a rueful smile. "You didn't. It hurt, sure. But you just didn't know. I wanted to tell you, but it was important you didn't know. Just as it was important the twins didn't know."

"We did not know who the traitor was," Prowl said.

"And even if we had known you weren't, the reaction to the news of my betrayal had to be genuine to be believeable enough," Shadebreaker added, shifting a little on her pedes. "That was the whole reason we didn't tell the twins from my understanding."

Prowl nodded to that.

"Is the only reason you brought me here to tell me I've made a massive fool of myself?" Ratchet asked, sounding a little dejected.

"Ohhh," Shadebreaker sounded dismayed at Ratchet's take on the matter. She gave him a look of sympathy and Prowl thought she would hug him if not for the seriousness of the meeting.

"Not at all," Prowl said. "We are telling you this now and not after everything is resolved with the others because we need your help."

"You've identified the traitor then?" Ratchet asked.

Prowl nodded. "We just need to set a trap."

"And how do you plan to do that?" Ratchet asked.

Prowl laid it out for him.

"Absolutely not," Ratchet said firmly.

"Shadebreaker has already agreed," Prowl said. "Your involvement would help guarantee her wellbeing."

"Shadebreaker would agree to jumping in a volcano if she thought it would solve the problem," Ratchet growled.

"Quick turn around for a mech who five minutes ago was ready to throw her out," Sunstreaker said dryly.

Ratchet looked properly contrite, the sound of his cooling fans hitting Prowl's audials. "I-I well-"

"Relax, mech," Sunstreaker said, amused. "It's a joke. I would be a hypocrite if I faulted you for something I was also guilty of."

"And I would only jump into a volcano if I had reasonable belief I would survive jumping into it," Shadebreaker argued. "Or if I needed to to save someone else, but that would also require survival."

Ratchet gave her a long suffering look at that.

"Ratchet, we need to catch this Shifter," Shadebreaker said softly, earnestly. "I would not have gone through being treated like a traitor if it wasn't important. I wouldn't still be here under that kind of treatment while innocent if I didn't believe it was important to do this."

Ratchet considered her for a long moment. "Fine," he said, relenting. "Let the record say I don't like it."

"Duly noted, Ratchet," Shadebreaker said, smiling and Prowl noted there was a genuineness to it that had been missing for the last several days.

It wasn't until nightfall that the plan would fall into place. But it was set in motion long before.

Jazz returned to pick Shadebreaker up for his usual routine with her—they needed to keep up the act for just a little longer.

The twins were set loose to loudly complain about how Shadebreaker was being treated so lightly and even being protected by Prowl to anyone who would listen.

Ratchet returned to temporary medbay to prepare, both medbay and mentally.

When the time came, Jazz brought Shadebreaker back to the tent and temporary medbay. Ratchet came over scowling while Jazz spun a tale of Shadebreaker running a fever and concerns about a virus.

"We can't have our informant dying from an infection, can we?" Jazz argued.

"Very well," Ratchet said gruffly. He waved a hand. "Take that bed. I will see what I can do."

Shadebreaker and Jazz shared one last look, silently confirming with each other that they were moving forward. Then Shadebreaker moved toward the bed and climbed on cautiously, knowing it was not an antivirus Ratchet was preparing and if the plan went awry that she would not wake.

"What if he doesn't take the bait?" Sideswipe asked his brother quietly as they watched the two bots in the practice field quietly.

"He'll take it," Sunstreaker said, arms crossed as he leaned against the tree, watching their suspect as he sparred with their opponent. After a long evening of making a fuss, they were certain they had their Shifter pinned down.

The bots finished their match not long later and then walked over to the twins.

"Hey guys," he greeted.

"Nice match," Sunstreaker said. "Before long you might even give me a run for my money."

Their suspect chuckled at that. "I dunno about that," he said. "I think I could take you now."

Sunstreaker considered the mech for a moment, then shrugged. "Maybe." He gave a noncommittal answer. It wasn't time to test that.

"Well, I gotta go see Ratchet," Arcee said, rolling her right shoulder. "That last throw shifted something out of alignment."

"Great! We'll go with you," Sideswipe said. "I think I saw our resident traitor there earlier, so better safe than sorry, as they say."

"Indeed," Arcee agreed, look darkening a little at the reminder.

Sideswipe and Arcee started away and Sunstreaker started to follow, but their suspect stopped him with a hand on his arm. Sideswipe paused and glanced, but Sunstreaker waved him on.

"A word, Sunstreaker?" He asked.

"What about?" Sunstreaker asked.

"Our little problem sitting in medbay," the suspect replied. "What are we going to do about it?"

"What can we do?" Sunstreaker asked. "Prowl will have my aft if I so much as touch her again. And she constantly has a guard with her."

"A simple problem with a simple solution my friend," his conversation partner said, not realizing perhaps how weird it was for the bot he was impersonating to be saying those kinds of words. "You just have to distract whichever officer is on duty while Ratchet is busy with Arcee. I'll take care of the rest."

"And what's the rest?" Sunstreaker raised an optic ridge.

The mech grinned and slammed his fists together. The message was pretty clear.

Sunstreaker nodded and the mech patted him on the back, looking pleased. Sunstreaker had to resist the urge to sneer in displeasure.

Steadishift followed the Autobots as they made their way back to the original tent on base barely able to contain an expectant grin. He'd been fooling the Autobots for months and it was finally gonna pay off by allowing him to take out one of their potentially strongest allies.

Shadebreaker may not be their strongest fighter, but Steadishift knew her knowledge could prove, as it already had, problematic for the Decepticon cause. He had carefully angled to counteract her efforts to use it to negate the fact they'd acquired it first by informing Megatron exactly when the Autobots would be going after each relic. It was unfortunate she had gotten it in her helm to go after one without informing anyone as it had alerted the bots.

But what a fortunate turn that the Autobots had taken it and the following ambush to mean that she had been the traitor all along! And she had even confessed! If he was a lesser bot, like that sorry Makeshift who couldn't hold a form for more than a couple cycles, he might have even believed she was working with the Decepticons as well.

How Prowl got a confession out of an innocent bot, Steadishift didn't know. But it worked in his favor. And if he took her out now, before she'd finished divulging her information to the Autobots, the Decepticons would have the solid advantage. The pieces were falling smoothly into place, just as he'd expected they would.

"Ratchet!" Sideswipe called cheerfully.

Ratchet made a disgruntled noise as he looked up from something he was doing by a prone Shadebreaker. "What do you want?" He snapped.

"What's wrong with her?" Sideswipe asked.

"I have her in forced power down to sort out a virus," Ratchet replied, looking like he'd rather let the virus run its course.

"Well, anyway," Sideswipe said. "Arcee is here to see you." He bowed a little as he moved aside for Arcee to move forward.

Ratchet looked at her, looking her over, then glanced back at Sideswipe, catching his optics. Steadishift wasn't sure if he'd noticed him and Sunstreaker or not, but he still stood still until the mech motioned for Arcee to follow.

Sideswipe followed them, staying by Arcee's side to fulfill his role as bodyguard despite the fact Shadebreaker appeared to be out cold.

Sunstreaker moved over to Jazz and slung an arm over his shoulders. "Hey mech," he said, steering him away from Shadebreaker's form. "Do you remember that trick you did back on Doruka III? Can you remind me how you did that?"

"Right now? Is it important?" Jazz asked, sounding uncertain. He glanced back at Shadebreaker and the mech still standing at the tent entrance.

"Relaaaxxx," Sunstreaker said. "We'll be just over here. It won't take long."

"If you say so, mech," Jazz said.

Steadishift smirked as Jazz turned his gaze away. Finally. He stepped further in now that the only occupants of the tent were fully occupied and not paying any attention to his target. A quick glance toward where Ratchet was at the far medbay bed showed his back toward him and his frame was blocking whatever view Arcee might've had. Sideswipe glanced, but made a subtle movement to indicate he was in on the plan and then looked back to Arcee and spoke quietly to her.

Perfect.

He silently pulled a dagger from his subspace, gripping it tightly in one hand as he approached Shadebreaker's bed where she lay motionless. He was silent, stealthy—the opposite of the bot he was iimpersonating. At her bedside, he raised his hand holding the dagger, preparing to plunge it deep into her spark chamber.

Steadishift might've benefited from some common sense thinking that when something was too easy it might be because something wasn't the way it seemed. He didn't see or hear another bot enter the tent and was unprepared for the sudden shock through his system as something cold hit him in between his shoulder blades.

He dropped the dagger and it clattered to the floor uselessly due to the way his arm had spasmed. Then his arm froze up and his frame followed, his knees buckling. He started falling forward, but a hand caught him by the shoulder, pulling him backward to fall onto his back on the grass instead of on top of Shadebreaker.

That's when he saw Prowl standing over him with an unreadable expression. Prowl knelt by his helm and Steadishift wondered why he couldn't move.

"I would not bother trying to move," Prowl said. "The Investigator Special paralyzes its target for five minutes. You've lost."

"How did you know I wasn't Bulkhead?" Steadishift asked.

"You started slipping after Shadebreaker came forward as a traitor," Prowl said. "But you really gave it away this afternoon when you told Arcee your thoughts about what we should do with her. Bulkhead respects Optimus's decisions too much to be making comments like that unprompted."

Steadishift would have sneered if his face wasn't paralyzed with the rest of his frame.

The next morning, the bots were all gathered again. This time in the fields and the humans were gathered around to see what was going on. Shadebreaker stood next to Prowl, waiting, staring down at the cuffed Steadishift as the gathered bots murmured and wondered who this strange mech was and where was Bulkhead? It was as if she thought her stare alone was what kept him from disappearing into the ether and escaping.

Optimus motioned for quiet from his position atop a boulder that sat in the field big enough to hold him. The moment he did a hush fell not only among the bots, but also the humans.

"I know you have had questions," he said. "Many of you have had concerns about the leniency with which we have been treating Shadebreaker."

Some voices were heard from the humans, though the bots were silent. Even the few Autobots left who did not already know had a pretty good idea at this point. This meeting was more or less for the benefit of the humans, which was why it was held outside. It was merely a formality as far as the bots were concerned.

Optimus held his hands up again and the humans hushed, seeing the silence that had been kept by the bots and sharing looks amongst themselves.

"The truth is," Optimus said. "Shadebreaker was never a traitor to begin with. She merely posed as one to lure out the real mole."

Another murmur and Optimus had to hold up a hand again.

"We believed if the mole thought we'd believed we had caught the mole already then they would make a mistake that would allow us to identify them," Optimus said. "And we did. Steadishift-" Prowl shoved the mech, who seemed as unidentifiable as Makeshift had been in his real form yet somehow unmistakably not the same mech, "-is what is known to our species as a Shifter. A very rare kind of Cybertronian. He took the form of Bulkhead, of whom we are still determining the fate of, and proceeded to infiltrate our number.

"As of now, Shadebreaker is absolved of all charges that were put against her," Optimus continued.

He motioned and Prowl moved over to Shadebreaker. He released the cuffs from her wings and she stretched them out with an obvious look of relief on her face.

"And," Optimus added as Prowl subspaced the cuffs. "In recognition of her dedication to ensuring the safety of her fellows and the success of the Autobot cause, as well as a form of apology for the way she's been treated, we will be bestowing upon her official status as a member of the Autobots."

As Optimus spoke Prowl had stood in front of Shadebreaker and removed from subspace something no one could make out. Now, as she stood in slight surprise—having not been expecting this—he placed this object on her chest just over her spark and then stepped aside to reveal to the gathered crowd a shiny new Autobot insignia.

Shadebreaker looked down at it and reached up with her arm that was not in a sling and touched it lightly with the tips of her fingers in what looked like reverence.

"Now, we must move forward with our ongoing mission to protect your world from the Decepticons together," Optimus said. "I will answer any questions you have in the designated area of the tent we have resided in thus far starting this afternoon. For now, this meeting is adjourned."

Murmur broke out again and questions were asked anyways, forcing Jazz to take charge and quiet them down as Prowl and Ironhide escorted Steadishift away—taking him to the ship for holding.

Among the Autobots, they looked at each other, each trying to come to decision on what to do at that moment, but all knowing they owed Shadebreaker some kind of apology. But when they looked, she was gone already.

Bumblebee whirled in worry.

"Relax," Sunstreaker said to the mech. "Shadebreaker isn't mad at anyone. She knew what to expect and she already told me she wasn't mad at me. If she's not mad at the mech who broke both her arms, she sure ain't at any of you."

"Still," Arcee said. "We treated her pretty badly. It would feel wrong not to say something."

Sunstreaker shrugged. "Then let her come to you," he said.

"Yeah," Sideswipe said. "I'm sure she just needs some space."

Chapter Text

Chapter 11: Apologies

Ratchet transformed as he came to the top of the hill near the beach where he knew he'd find Shadebreaker. At first he'd feared she'd left base when she'd portaled away from the meeting, but after a brief discussion with Optimus he'd realized that wasn't the case. Optimus was kept up to date with any comings and goings from the base by the humans manning the security post and they would've alerted him if Shadebreaker had not reappeared elsewhere on base. So he'd guessed she'd come here to soothe her spark.

Gazing out at the sand he saw he'd been right. Sitting in the sand at the edge of the water was Shadebreaker, facing the water. She sat where the waves met the sand, pushing up and around her occasionally with the push and pull of the ocean currents. Her wings were wrapped around her as if they were a blanket and he could see that she was resting her helm on her knees.

Ratchet sighed, second guessing whether he should be here at all. He doubted she'd want to see him after the way he'd treated her. He knew she had said she didn't blame him, but he'd probably still hurt her. Just as he had been hurt by her. But she hadn't ripped a friendship bond from his spark while he had a questionable understanding of what was even going on. Whatever discomfort the coming conversation would entail, he deserved it.

Shadebreaker shifted a touch as he approached and then a little bit more when he hesitated a few steps behind her. She glanced back and up at him and he saw tear tracks on the side of her face he could see. His spark ached seeing that she had been out here crying.

"I brought you some energon," Ratchet said gruffly, his medical training having him immediately looking over the marks on her wings from the cuffs. He knew they couldn't feel well yet. "And pain pills for your arm and shoulder."

Shadebreaker heaved a sigh, and placed her helm back on her knees, looking back out at the ocean. "I'm not hungry."

Ratchet sighed and then moved closer, suppressing a shudder as the cold water washed over his pedes. He waited a moment for the waves to pull back out before taking a seat next to her. He reached out and placed a hand on her shoulder. "Do I need to make it doctor's orders?"

Shadebreaker sighed again. "I'm processing too much emotion, Ratchet," she said. "I have no appetite. I could sip on it, I suppose."

"I can accept 'sipping on it,'" Ratchet said dryly.

Shadebreaker sighed again and wiped at her optics. "Ok," she said quietly. She shifted as he took out the energon he'd mixed for her. She accepted it and looked at it for a moment, then at him. "I'm sorry, Ratchet." There was a lot of emotion in her voice. "It must've hurt you so much to think I'd betrayed you. Especially after I told you what I did about my old friend. I hope you know, that wasn't what I wanted. I only wanted to catch the Shifter."

Ratchet sighed, looking away. "I know, Shade'," he said, looking out at the ocean. "I know."

"But I did hurt you," Shadebreaker said, sounding sadder than he'd heard her yet. Ratchet thought she might cry some more.

"I hurt you, too," Ratchet said. "When I rejected you and ripped our friendship bond from you."

Shadebreaker looked at him, expression reading surprise that her visor couldn't hide. Her wings tightened around herself a little. "That's why it felt like my spark was being ripped out of my chest," she said. It was the statement of realization, of discovery. Of a scientist finding the answer to a puzzle they'd had difficulty with. "I'd assumed it was just because of how deeply I feel everything…that it was a me thing…"

"Aw Shade'," Ratchet said, starting to reach for her and then hesitating.

"It hurt so much, Ratchet," Shadebreaker said and tears did start falling again. "And it wouldn't stop hurting. I didn't know what to do, except block it out. It still hurts."

"I know, Shade', I know," Ratchet said gently. Now he did reach out and touch her, rubbing her back across her shoulder blades. "I'm afraid it will hurt for some time."

Shadebreaker sniffed, wings pulling tighter around her again and Ratchet flinched. She still hadn't even touched her energon.

"There-" Ratchet started, but hesitated because he wasn't sure how to broach the subject. "There is a way we could ease the pain, though."

"Yeah?" Shadebreaker asked, voice small but hopeful.

"If we re-establish the bond, it would help to ease the pain," Ratchet said gently, carefully. "My spark would support yours and the connection would heal over time. It won't quite ever be the same, but…"

"I understand," Shabebreaker said when he trailed off. "Kinda. Enough, at least. It could be too damaged for it to be as strong. Or, in the end, it could be stronger. What doesn't kill us and all that. Scar tissue is often tougher than what was there before. And sometimes the strongest friendships are the ones that went through shit and didn't give up on each other. Not always, but sometimes."

Ratchet listened to her and wasn't sure what to think. "You…you would accept me back? After I so cruelly treated you?"

"You thought I'd betrayed you, Ratchet," Shadebreaker reminded him with a rueful smile. "I literally would have done the same. I have done the same. Except…I think if there was an actual bond there with that person, they had ripped it out ages ago. And it never re-established itself. So I couldn't do it myself when I was the one who had enough."

Ratchet took in this information for a moment and wondered about the existence of a bond between humans for a moment before focusing back on the moment at hand. "You forgive me so easily?"

"If you forgive me," Shadebreaker said, shifting her free hand palm up. She couldn't extend it out toward him because of the sling that prevented movement of her shoulder blade.

Ratchet moved his hand to gently rest on her shoulder, careful not to agitate it. "Of course I forgive you," he said. "You were only trying to protect us from the damage Steadishift could bring."

Shadebreaker gusted air through her systems once more. Her frame shuddered from her emotions. She leaned her helm down a bit to wipe her optics with her free hand despite it being bound by the sling.

"So, um," she said after a moment. "How do we…re-establish our bond?"

"You'll need a free hand with which you can grasp one of mine in a proper hold," Ratchet said, gazing at her hands, neither of which he could grasp fully from the right angle as it stood. One was pinned away from him and the other was occupied with her still untouched lunch.

Shadebreaker chuckled and subspaced the energon. She wiped at her cheeks one more time and then reached across herself toward him. "Simple enough," she said.

Ratchet reached out and grasped her wrist with one of his hands, as if giving her a firm greeting between long time friends. He waited for her to wrap her fingers around his own wrist before extending a data-cord from his wrist and sliding it into hers. She made a face at the unexpected feeling. He moved his thumb gently across her forearm in a reassuring motion as he sent the offer of a friendship bond to her.

Shadebreaker had a look of mild fascination on her face as she sorted out how to accept it and then did so. The moment the bond was firmly established Ratchet was hit with a wave of her fascination riding on waves of the emotions she was feeling. There was a lot of sadness and pain in her spark still, but he also sensed that they were ebbing away, being replaced by forgiveness and acceptance.

Ratchet retracted the cord once the bond was established and the strength of the connection calmed a little, but there was an obvious openness to it on her end that he wasn't sure was due to her inexperience or if she just didn't feel like hiding. "You should drink your energon now," he said.

"Yeah, probably," Shadebreaker agreed with a shrug.

Ratchet gave her a stern look, but didn't say anymore, sensing that her resistance was minimal.

"Emotions aren't switches, Ratchet," Shadebreaker said, smiling gently at him. "It's hard for me to eat when they are too much or too many. It was….hard staying nourished through all that. But I knew you'd give me hell if I didn't once it was over…and I had Ironhide on my aft about it, too. And Jazz. Jazz helped a lot. I can see why he's both Optimus's and Prowl's best friend."

Ratchet shook his helm at that, not helping the slight smile. "Femme," he said. "You're gonna worry me to my grave, aren't you?"

"What can I say?" Shadebreaker asked, taking her cube back out. "I'm good at making people worry. I guess?"

Ratchet snorted at that.

I stood in thoughtful silence as I stared at my reflection in the mirror that lined one wall of the femme side of the shower. How was I going to make this work? I had parted ways from Ratchet after we'd spent some time at the beach talking over lunch, intending to come to the showers to get properly clean. Ratchet had considered showers as well, but he'd been called away by Wheeljack to deal with a snag with the Ground Bridge. I wasn't expected anywhere yet today—having some freedom to recover from the stress and from my injuries.

But my injuries were my dilemma right now. The sling Ratchet had put my left arm in was waterproof, as were the bandages, but the problem was that it would prove difficult to wash myself with two damaged arms. I could do most, but my wings really needed care and it would be difficult to do them as it stood. My wings needed care, but they were in need of cleaning the sand and water off them first. I had promised Ratchet I would come to medbay for salve as soon as I was done, but I wasn't sure how to get there.

My thoughts were interrupted as the door to the room opened and I looked over to see Arcee entering, in the middle of saying bye to someone on the other side. She turned and then stopped when she saw me. My wings shifted in uncertainty, not sure what to expect from her. I had played a convincing enough role—I didn't know if anyone might hold it against me that I was capable of such a pretense.

Arcee hesitated for just a moment before moving toward me. "Hey Shadebreaker…."

Back to my full name, then. I turned back toward the mirror with a contemplative look. "Arcee," I greeted.

I saw Arcee glance at the mirror in the reflection with a raised optic ridge, then she looked back at me. She looked hesitant, uncertain. "Look," she said, rubbing her arm a little before dropping her hand to her side. "I owe you an apology."

My wings shifted a little. "Nah," I said as I relaxed. "You thought I was a traitor. Like I told Ratchet, I would've treated me like crap, too. I hold nothing against you."

"Still," Arcee said, smirking a bit. "I am sorry."

I looked at her and bowed my helm. "Apology accepted, my friend," I said readily. I then extended my free hand out toward her, palm up. "And I apologize to you. For my deception. It was not my intent to harm my friends. If the Shifter had not already gone underneath my radar for some time, I would not have readily agreed to a plan that would've had me playing such a deceptive role."

Arcee chuckled a bit at that. "He fooled all of us," she said. "It wasn't until after your stunt that his charade of playing Bulkhead started to crack."

I nodded. "That was the purpose of the charade," I said. Then I sighed. "I only hope he cracks and we can figure out what happened to the real Bulkhead and save him. I-" I stuttered and my wings shifted in distress.

Arcee stepped closer and placed a hand on my arm. "Let's worry about that later," she said. "Prowl will find out. For now, you need to focus on recovering. Would you like some help getting fully clean? Your wings are covered in sand."

"I….would appreciate it, thank you," I told her quietly.

"No problem," Arcee said, smiling. "I get your back and wings, you get mine?"

I glanced at the wing-like appendages she was referring to, amusement playing on my lips. "I mean," I said and lifted my usable hand. "I might not be as effective. I've literally spent the last twenty minutes trying to decide how best to handle my wings when down to one damaged arm."

Arcee chuckled. "That's fair," she said. "I'm not expecting perfection. I'm not the one who looks like she rolled in the sand."

I felt my cooling fans kick on. "I was teaching Ratchet the wonders of slowing down and finding shapes in the clouds at the beach." I defended myself as we moved toward the shower heads.

"Really?" Arcee asked, sounding and looking amused. "Ratchet? Laid out on the sand with you? Grouchy Ratchet who hardly ever leaves his work?"

I chuckled at that, feeling a little bit self-conscious. "Well, he didn't lay down," I said. "Didn't want to get too much sand in his gears. But he sat with me and I got him to cloud gaze with me for a bit. He was a bit appalled I laid down when my wings are still raw and untreated from the damage the cuffs did and he hasn't had a chance to treat them yet. I kinda laid down a second before he was about to bring it up."

"It wasn't the first thing he did when he found you?" Arcee asked as I started the water on my chosen showerhead.

"I think I just looked so miserable he felt he had to work his way up to touching me with medical tools," I replied sheepishly. "I might have been huddled in a ball and crying when he arrived. I probably looked pretty pathetic."

Arcee gave me a look of sympathy and reached out to touch my arm. "It was rough, then?"

"So rough," I admitted as I shifted to start removing my armor. "And painful and hard. But it's over now. Now we just move forward. One step at a time. I hold nothing against anyone for how anyone treated me. I don't even hold it against Sunstreaker that he beat me up and broke both my arms. Actually, I was expecting you to do that."

Arcee smirked a little, not looking at all embarrassed or sheepish about the summation. "And I might've," she admitted readily as she turned her own water on. "I'm glad I didn't, though."

"I'm glad you didn't, too," I said, grinning at her. "I appreciate still having my legs."

Arcee chuckled at that, shaking her helm.

When Arcee and I entered the tent a couple hours later there was an alert flashing on the main computer and my wings perked. I immediately switched gears, moving to join Optimus and Ratchet over there—it wasn't like Ratchet was in the medbay to tend to my wings anyways. Arcee followed me over.

"What's going on?" I asked.

"A neutral signal has popped up on the network," Ratchet replied, glancing at me.

"More bots arriving?" I glanced around at the fact we were still in a tent and a damaged ship. "I hope we'll get some proper quarters done soon."

"Indeed, even if no one is staying from this one," Ratchet said. Then he pressed a couple buttons to open a comm channel. "Neutral ship, this Autobot Base Zelta, come in."

A response came in words that I only halfway understood. My wings shifted slightly. I listened to Optimus reply in Cy-Stan, feeling confusion and then leaned toward Arcee.

"Even Prowl and Ironhide answered me in English when I first met them on the ship," I whispered.

"Perhaps their system's connections allowing them access to the web are down," Arcee replied quietly. "Not everyone gets the ability to download Earth's languages before touching down. You just gotta finish learning Cy-Stan." Her tone was teasing.

"I'm trying," I argued. "Language is hard to retain for me. And I've had so many other things to do. Too bad I can't download Cy-Stan like you guys could do with English."

The voice said something and then Arcee turned her attention to the conversation herself. I felt a little left out and forgotten as she conversed with the voice in a conversation I could only somewhat understand and couldn't follow clearly at all.

"Shadebreaker," Optimus addressed me after a short while. "As our Ground Bridge is not yet operational and we have friends that are being dropped off by a passing neutral ship, we have need of your portals to greet them and bring them home."

"No problem boss bot," I said, my lack of understanding forgotten.

We talked a little longer, Optimus and Ratchet discussing a plan for them to drop a pair of Autobots off apparently. The neutrals agreed to drop them off somewhere remote in one of the many savannas of Africa and then Optimus, Ratchet and Arcee would meet them from there. I would just be in charge of transport, so I didn't need to go through. Which was just as well with the language barrier and my broken arms.

"Alright, well, while we wait for them to land, I'll take care of your wings, Shade'," Ratchet said, turning toward me.

"Sounds good," I said.

We moved toward the medbay as Arcee and Optimus stayed at the computer, saying a few more words to our incoming friends. I wondered who they were.

"Is there is any lingering pain or discomfort after your pain meds earlier?" Ratchet asked as he pulled out a box from under his makeshift counter.

"My wings are still sore and feel raw," I replied. "But it's a dull ache. My arms are ok."

"That's what I was expecting," Ratchet said, sighing as he took out a container. "This salve should be enough to alleviate those feelings in your wings."

I nodded. "Thank you," I said, bowing my helm as he moved behind me so he could administer it.

"Just doing my job," Ratchet said as he started spreading the salve on my wings with gentle fingers.

I held my wings as still as I could, ignoring the way my spark warmed at his touch. I blocked those feelings out and definitely hid them from our bond. I was not sure how he would interpret such feelings. I was not sure how I was going to interpret them. I wasn't ready to open that can. I wasn't ready to acknowledge the small pull I felt toward him from my spark that I wasn't entirely sure was the friendship bond.

"We'll want to change your bandages tonight, but they'll be alright for the rest of the day," Ratchet said. "I'm gonna bandage your wings, too. To make sure the salve doesn't get wiped off before it can do its job and keep them clean."

I made a noise of annoyance at that. "Just as I got them free," I complained.

"I know," Ratchet said. "But it's better than getting an infection."

"Fair," I said.

"And you'll still be able to move them," Ratchet said. "Yours sensors will be muffled is all. Not that they were working at peak efficiency anyways."

I sighed and accepted my fate as he worked and Arcee came over.

"Optimus thought it best to switch to radio silence so the 'Cons don't pick up our communications," Arcee said to my questioning look.

"Ah," I said. "So who's coming anyways? Your voices sound different in Cy-Stan and everyone I already knew the voices of are here already besides, like two bots, anyways."

Arcee looked amused by my small info-dump. "My sisters, actually." She crossed her arms and tilted her helm, looking at me expectantly.

"Hmm," I said, pretending to think as I could tell she wanted to see if I knew who her sisters were. I glanced toward Optimus, but he was as unreadable as he ever was. It wasn't too often I could read him because he opened himself to it. I looked back at Arcee. "Would that be Chromia and Elita-1?"

"Wow, you do know," Arcee said, not sounding surprised.

I resisted shrugging, knowing it would move my wings. "Information hoarding tendencies," I said as if that explained everything. "I look forward to meeting them."

"Elita might be able to help you learn Cy-Stan," Arcee said. "I mean, she'll be busy with her duties just like the rest of us, but she enjoys the art of language so she'll be more than happy to block out time in her day to dedicate to teaching you."

"That sounds amazing, actually," I said, not hiding my relief at the idea of having a proper teacher. "The only words I've gotten down are ones I've had help with. When it comes to language, I just need the help."

"I'm sure she'll appreciate your help understanding human idioms," Ratchet said, chipping in his two cents. "Downloading the language helps, but it doesn't give us the whole picture."

"I would be glad to help her where I can," I said, glancing back at him.

After Ratchet finished with my wings, Optimus came over to tell us it was time to fetch our new friends. We agreed it would be best to bring them into base outside to avoid immediately cramping them in a tight space. So we moved outside and I opened a portal to the coordinates that had been provided.

Then I waited.

And waited.

I kicked a small rock as I waited, feeling a little anxious sitting there with a portal just sitting there open like this.

I looked around, wondering if it made anyone else nervous.

Then I heard steps and looked back to the portal to see my friends returning through it. Arcee came through first, talking with a taller, lighter blue femme I recognized easily as Chromia. Behind them was Ratchet and then Optimus came through with a tall pink femme by his side that couldn't have been anyone but Elita-1.

I closed the portal once they were all clear of its vortex, wings relaxing.

"Elita, Chromia," Optimus said as the group approached me. "This is Shadebreaker. Our most recent addition to the Autobots, but a dedicated member nonetheless. Shadebreaker, this is Elita-1 and Chromia."

"Nice to meet you, fembot," Chromia said, smirking.

"It's a pleasure," Elita said, reaching out to shake my hand.

I reached out to shake her hand with my free hand. She took it carefully, clearly being aware of the fact I was obviously injured. "Likewise, I'm sure," I said, assuming Ratchet had fixed whatever problem they'd had that had prevented them from downloading English before.

"Shadebreaker's the one who opened that portal for us," Arcee said, probably to explain why I was here to greet them despite being so new. "She's got space-time portals we've been using as our main form of transport while Ratchet gets a Ground Bridge built."

"Just explain my powers for me, why dontcha," I said, teasing as I placed my free hand on my hip.

Arcee lightly punched my bicep on my arm that wasn't the one injured on the shoulder. I reached out and lightly pushed her back.

"You wound me, however will I recover now?" I asked as Chromia chuckled at our shenanigans.

"Fembots," Ratchet said grouchily. "If you break something, I'm gonna restrict Shadebreaker to stay in medbay."

Arcee and I sobered at that.

"We'll behave," I said, holding a hand up in surrender.

"I must take my leave," Optimus said a bit suddenly and I saw Elita's face fall. "Prowl has commed me that he has something important to discuss."

My wings perked curiously, but I knew better than to ask and delay him. I knew he would inform the rest of us when it was time to discuss a plan or to act.

"Perhaps Arcee and Shadebreaker will be willing to show you around base," Optimus offered, likely knowing I would be anxious if I wasn't given a task.

"We would be happy to, right, Shade'?" Arcee said, turning toward.

"Absolutely," I said, wings lifting and I grinned a bit to emphasize.

Optimus said a final goodbye to Elita, giving her a quick peck on the lips, which seemed to surprise her that he was comfortable doing so in my presence. Then he was transforming and headed toward where the damaged ship was parked.

"Wow, he must consider you a friend, eh?" Chromia asked, nudging me slightly.

"We're friends," I said confidently. "He and Ratchet were the first ones I really opened up to here. I appreciate his friendship. It helped me adjust to all the newness in my life. I don't think we could ask for a better Prime."

"You got that right," Chromia grinned. "Though you got me curious now with that explanation."

"Hmmm, maybe I'll explain," I said vaguely, wings making a mischievous motion.

"Oh, you're a brat," Chromia grinned more.

"Anyways," Elita said, interrupting before this had a chance to turn into a real argument. "Where to first?"

"Well, I don't know about you, but I like to shower after a long trip," Arcee offered.

"That sounds lovely," Elita said, smiling.

"Then let's go," Arcee said. "Shade' and I just showered not long ago, but I'm sure she doesn't mind hanging out there while you two get clean."

"Of course not," I said as we started walking away from the tent. "The only problem would be the potential PTSD from, you know, being beat up there, but that would've been a problem earlier and it wasn't."

"I still don't know how you're so chill about Sunstreaker," Arcee said.

"As I said, it was expected," I replied.

"I'm sorry, what?" Chromia asked.

Arcee glanced at me and I shrugged, motioning that she could tell the story if she wanted. Then she launched into an explanation of the recent events. About how I'd posed as a traitor in order to lure a shifter into a false sense of security so we could figure out who they were impersonating. I interjected occasionally with what it was like from my point of view as I was asked, but I mostly just listened to Arcee's point of view. Until she reached the point of Sunstreaker ambushing me in the shower, cause she didn't know anything beyond everyone departing.

"You didn't fight back?" Chromia asked incredulously after I told them about the ambush.

I shrugged. "I knew he wasn't the Shifter," I said simply. "I don't want to hurt my fellow Autobots. I mean, I wasn't officially an Autobot yet, but still. Instincts to fight when threatened aside, I don't hurt those I consider allies. Not intentionally anyways."

Arcee nudged me a little. "I think we all hurt unintentionally sometimes."

"Or as consequences to actions taken to sus out hidden Shifters that are really good at their jobs," I said dryly. "I hope I never have to do that again. It sucked. In multiple ways."

"Well, I'm sure we all can say we appreciate the sacrifice you took," Elita said, touching my shoulder gently.

I smiled bashfully at her. "I'm sure some might find it a bit concerning that I could pull such a trick. I'm just glad it's over now."

Elita rubbed my shoulder a bit. "I'm sure everyone is."

Chapter Text

Chapter 12: Shower Talks and Tours

"So," Chromia said as she started stripping her armor off in the showers. "Tell us about everything being so new to you."

My wings shifted slightly from where I sat on the counter, ankles crossed. I hesitated and glanced at Arcee. She gave me an encouraging look.

"It's ok, Shade'," Arcee said, looking a bit amused. "They're my sisters. And Elita's Optimus's sparkmate. We would know if they were Shifters."

I chuckled nervously. "That's not why I hesitate and you know it," I said, grabbing a towel and lightly whipping it toward her.

"What? Are you some kind of Shifter yourself or something?" Chromia asked, teasing.

My wings shifted, not sure what to make of that joke and how to apply it to how I felt right then.

"Shadebreaker dot exe does not compute," Arcee joked, seeing me trying to process.

"Heeyyy," I said slowly. "That's…true…but heyyy."

Chromia chuckled a bit, raising an optic ridge. "Come on, fembot," she said. "Whatever you have to say can't be that outrageous."

Arcee and I shared a look, which caused her sisters to share a curious look. Then I looked at them both seriously.

"Would you still say that if I told you I used to be human?" I asked. Then, deciding they were both likely to find out, I added, "Not only that, but I also happen to share CNA with none other than Vector Prime himself and that is why I have space-time portals?"

Chromia raised an optic ridge. "Ok, that does sound outrageous."

"Now Chromia, I'm sure there's a reasonable explanation," Elita admonished gently, but she looked uncertain.

"Shockwave is the explanation," Arcee supplied. "At least, part of it. Some details are unknown as of yet."

"And may never be known," I said, a little annoyed. "Unless my absent father deigns to come inform us of them or we stumble upon it or we hack into Shockwave's database someday and it contains those answers. Like, whether or not the CNA being related to Vector is because of his experiments or if it was a pre-existing condition. The latter of which would open up a whole slew of other questions that may never get answered." I sighed heavily. "Which is frustrating for an information hoarder such as myself." I motioned a bit dramatically.

Chromia chuckled a little and even Elita looked a bit amused.

"At least you can find some humor about it," Elita said softly.

"It's all I can do not to dwell on the negative points," I said quietly. "It's been several years since it began and several months since I arrived here, but it's still painful what I lost. Not a day goes by that I don't miss my old friends and family. I do not think that pain will ever go away. Humor at least provides some kind of positive outlet. If I can at least make someone smile, then continuing on is worth it to some degree. If I can do more to make a positive difference then all the more worth it."

"And that's why you dedicated yourself to the Autobots," Chromia said. "To make a positive difference."

"Try to, at least," I said.

We continued to talk and just enjoy each other's company while Elita and Chromia washed. They helped each other with their backs as Arcee and I had done and it made me miss my own sister as I watched them. They joked and had fun, but were very considerate of each other and it strongly reminded me of my sister and as much as I tried to push the thoughts of her away to focus on the present, they pressed on me more and more as the time passed.

"Hey," Arcee said softly, noticing my wings and expression had lowered significantly. "What's up?"

"Oh," I said and tried to give a reassuring smile. "I'm ok. Just…" I rubbed the back of my helm and motioned vaguely at Chromia and Elita, who I could tell were listening too. "Just missing my own sister a bit, I guess. It happens. I'll be ok. Such is life."

"We understand," Elita said, looking over to me with sympathy. "When we were separated, we missed each other all the time. We didn't know for sure that we'd see Arcee again."

"Yeah," Chromia said, looking contemplative. "We are at war, after all."

"You had a chance, though," I said quietly, trying hard not to let bitterness in my voice.

"Aw, femme," Chromia said, seeing that I was feeling bitter despite my efforts. "We didn't mean to be insensitive."

I raised a hand. "It's ok. Don't," I paused, flinching. "Don't take that to spark. I didn't mean to come off as bitter or angry. It's hard, but I appreciate the fact you still have each other. I would never begrudge you guys that. I would never wish you the same pain anymore than I would wish my sister the same pain I went through just so I could see her again. I have moments of weakness where I just feel angry about it, that's all, and I guess it slipped out. I'm sorry. It is not your fault and I should not take it out on you."

"It's not a weakness to feel angry about what Shockwave took from you," Elita told me, looking sympathetic.

"Yeah," Chromia said, understanding in both her tone and optics. "I'd be pretty pissed too."

"Yeah, you're right," I said. "But I still shouldn't let it affect how I treat those around me. I can always take it out on some poor, unsuspecting inanimate object."

Arcee chuckled. "Don't want to take it out on Shockwave?"

"I'd prefer never to see that mech again," I said, raising my optic ridges at Arcee, moving my torso away from her a bit.

"That's entirely fair," Elita said gently. "For your sake, I hope you don't have to face him."

"You might, though, if you go into the field," Chromia said.

"I know," I said quietly. "But I also cannot live my life in fear of what may happen. If I did that, I would've just not even made friends with anyone and lived as a hermit somewhere. Or not done literally, like, anything I have ever done in my entire life. Nothing worth doing is ever absent of something that is scary in some respect."

Chromia looked a bit impressed by my take on the matter and Elita smiled at it.

"I can see why Arcee likes you," Elita said. "And Optimus."

"I mean," I said, rubbing my helm sheepishly. "Optimus and Ratchet kinda had to remind me a little bit a while back. But tomayto, tomahto."

"What?" Elita asked, looking perplexed.

Arcee smirked a little bit and shared an amused look with me. Then I launched into an explanation of semantics and dialects in the human language, which Elita seemed to enjoy while Chromia looked awfully bored after about two minutes of it.

"As interesting as this conversation is," Elita said, seeing her sister had zoned out and was examining the tiles on the walls as she dried her legs. "We should move on before we lose Chromia entirely."

"Whoops," I said, chuckling. "I apologize. Language is not something I usually info-dump on."

"You probably don't usually have a captive audience for it," Chromia said, looking amused.

"Hmm, I once info-dumped about trees on my fiancée and trees are not a special interest of neither myself nor him," I said dryly. "I just info-dump sometimes. It's the way my processor works. Sometimes it's to fill the silence, sometimes it's just cause, sometimes it's cause of genuine interest in the topic from either myself or the other party."

Chromia chuckled at that. "And, let me guess, you have a bunch of information about non-interests because one of your interests is information hoarding."

"Yup," I said, grinning.

Chromia chuckled, amused.

"Believe it or not, language is actually one of my worst subjects once you leave the language of English," I said. "I struggle with new languages. I have made terrible progress with my Cy-Stan."

"That explains your voice leaving the chat," Chromia said, looking still more amused.

I looked sheepish at that.

"I can probably find time to help you if you would like," Elita offered, holding out a hand to me, palm up.

I held out my own hand, palm up as well. "I would love that," I replied. "A teacher is probably just what I need."

"I would be honored to be your teacher," Elita said, smiling.

I smiled in return. Then, feeling mischievous, I put my palms together and bowed as well as I could from my sitting position. "Elita-sensei."

Elita looked mildly amused while Chromia just looked at me in confusion.

"Sensei means 'teacher' or 'master' in Japanese," Arcee supplied to her sister.

"I know the tiniest bit of Japanese from years of watching anime," I said. "The only Earth language I know less words in that I know any in is sign language. I might also know less in German, too, but I haven't counted words to know for sure."

Chromia shook her helm in bemusement at me. "Well, I'll let you nerd out with Elita about the language and I'll just stick to my guns and my mech. Speaking of, I have sensed Ironhide, but haven't seen him yet."

"He was interrogating Steadishift with Prowl," I said. "So I imagine he was debriefing Optimus with him, too. I'm sure he'll turn up sooner or later. Probably sooner." My wings shifted as the sensors that hadn't been damaged by the cuffs picked up a presence. I turned to look at the door. "Hmm, indeed."

Chromia gave me a perplexed look. Before she could open her mouth, however, a knock was sounding at the door.

"Are you femmes decent in there?" Ironhide's voice came through.

Chromia gave me a very guarded look, clearly not sure what to make of my knowledge he was there. "How did you know?" She was clearly asking.

"Life sign scanner," I mouthed, tapping the side of my visor as Elita called "Not decent!" Out to the mech.

"Aw, well, hurry it up then!" Ironhide called back gruffly.

"Absence makes the spark grow fonder, mech!" Chromia called, losing her look of suspicion. "You'll just have to wait."

"I could wait forever for you, MyLove," Ironhide returned.

I smiled, spark filled with warmness at the sweet exchange as I heard the mech take a seat just outside the door.

"Mechs," Chromia said, shaking her helm. "Can't live with them."

"Indeed," I said, knowing she was only joking.

If I didn't know it from the stories, I would know it from the increase in pace she took in getting dry and replacing her armor. Then she slipped out while Elita was still replacing her armor with an amused look on her face, looking wistful.

I reached out and touched her elbow with a questioning look on my face.

"I'm ok," she told me.

"You sure you don't want Optimus to barge in, too?" I asked, daring to tease just a little.

Elita blush, looking a bit flustered. Still, she smiled softly, optics sparkling. "If I didn't know better, I'd ask if you'd spent too much time with Chromia."

I grinned at that, feeling like that was high praise. "I mean, I get the feeling, maybe I'm deflecting a little."

"Ratchet?" Arcee asked as she nudged me, clearly teasing me in turn since I'd dared to tease her sister.

"Oh?" Elita asked, optics sparkling.

I felt my cooling fans kick on. "No," I said, wings shifting. "He and I aren't- We're not-" I shook my helm. "I haven't even considered a mech here like that…not yet anyway." My wings and cooling fans betrayed me, but I was not about to admit to anything.

Arcee chuckled and Elita smiled gently.

Once Elita was fully armored, we moved out to the foyer where Chromia had gone to greet Ironhide. Where we found them deep in a makeout session, right where the mech had sat on the floor.

I looked down at them. They were really getting into it. I wondered for a moment if Chromia was gonna stay in the armor she had just put back on. So I cleared my throat at the same time Elita did.

Chromia made a rude gesture and my wings shifted uncertainly.

"Er," I said.

Ironhide gently pushed Chromia back and she scowled for a moment, but the look softened at his look of reproach and he rubbed her arms and spoke gentle words in Cy-Stan.

"Sorry, fembot," Chromia said, shifting to sit back against her mech as he wrapped his arms around her. "I didn't mean to be rude."

"It's fine," I muttered, a bit reflexively as I waved a hand. I shifted my wings a bit.

"That was a reflexive, non-committed answer," Chromia looked slightly amused, but also a little concerned while Ironhide frowned.

I shrugged. "We interrupted you, so, it's fine," I said.

Chromia considered me for a moment. Then she looked at Elita, who'd also cleared her throat. "I apologize for my rude gesture, Elita," she said. "It was out of order of me."

Elita bowed her helm graciously. "Apology accepted, sister mine."

Chromia looked back at me. "See? That's how you accept an apology and mean it," she said. "If you are resistant to accepting it, I need to know why so we can talk about it. You don't need to accept it out of reflex to avoid conflict with me."

I bowed my helm, wings shifting slightly.

"Fembot," Chromia said sternly, holding her arms out. She beckoned me. "Come here."

I hesitated, knowing her reputation for temper and also having my own experiences with others. I was not used to my automatic responses not being accepted. Very few had ever poked closer to determine genuineness in accepting apologies. But after gusting some air through my systems, I approached and sat down in front of her and Ironhide so we'd be on level.

"Now, fembot," Chromia said, reaching out and taking hold of my free hand I'd rested on my knee. "Why the resistance to forgiveness? I was under the impression you are a forgiving spark."

I looked down at our hands silently for a long minute, considering that. My wings shifted as I thought, and I felt some pain in my spark as I recognized it for what it was.

"It's an old trauma response, I think," I said quietly. "I…I think I mentioned a bit to you, Ironhide, about a friend I once had that I told Ratchet about?"

Ironhide nodded. "I remember." He said softly.

"She hurt me a lot in…a lot of different ways," I clenched my hand she wasn't holding a bit where it sat relatively closely to my spark. "I'm not fully healed. Your…reaction, Chromia, to us interrupting you reminded me heavily of her. So I reflexively pulled back into my shell and fell into conflict avoidance mode as I often did with her to try to avoid the worst of it. Part of that was automatically accepting apologies without considering them, cause so many were not genuine."

"Aww fembot, I'm sorry you went through that," Chromia said, squeezing my fingers. "I promise I do mean it, I am sorry."

"I know and it really is ok," I said, looking up at her and smiling a bit. "I'll get over it. It was a moment. And my trauma is not your responsibility to dance around. In time I will have all my trauma responses handled, I'm sure. Or, at least, I will be used to you enough that such mannerisms from you will not trigger them." I grinned a little wryly at that. "Assuming you don't get tired of me first." I said it like a joke, though I was mildly serious.

Chromia lightly smacked my knee as her mech nudged me with his pede. "Don't say that now. No bot's just gonna get tired of you."

"Is that what you felt your old friend did?" Ironhide asked gently.

I shrugged. "I mean," I said. "She did abandon me before I ended up telling her she couldn't come back into my life. But, like, she wasn't the only one to ever do it. Just the one who took the longest. She wasn't even the last. Not the first, nor the last." I sighed at that. "No one ever really gives me reasons. So the mind comes up with them. Usually self-blame is the go-to. It's hard to know, really. Without someone explaining it."

"Poor femme," Chromia said. "Well, we Autobots don't just do that to friends, so don't worry about that with us, ok?"

"No promises," I said. "But I can try."

"Good enough," Chromia said.

"If it helps, I made strong progress with my fiancée and his family and a couple outside friends before I was kidnapped by Shockwave," I said. "So I am capable of believing you. It just takes time. And patience. I might need some reassurance here and there is all. I will communicate if I do. My fiancée taught me well about that." I smiled a bit.

"Good," Chromia smiled back. "Cause we can't help you if you don't communicate you need it."

"I know," I said. Then I looked at Ironhide. "Are you going to join us on our tour?" I thought he might enjoy more time with his sparkmate.

"Hmm," Ironhide hummed, wrapping his arms tighter around Chromia, seeming to think about it. "As much as I would love to, I have to run some drills with the humans. Optimus wants them better trained if they're gonna keep going in the field with us bots like Agent Fowler is pushing for."

I nodded in understanding, a bit disappointed. I would've enjoyed seeing the two interact more. Ah well.

"We will have a chance to spend time together another time," Ironhide reassured me, misinterpreting my disappointment.

I chuckled, smirking. "I'm sure," I said dryly, glancing at the femme in his lap.

"Oh," he said, realizing. "You were asking for Chromia, were you?" His optics sparkled in amusement.

I shrugged, still smirking.

"You brat," Chromia said, amused. "We ought to find you a mech so you can worry about finding time for your own self and not about finding time for other couples."

I chuckled at that. "I'll find a mech if I am ever good and ready to move on from the fiancée," I said softly. "Life is short and we're at war, I will help facilitate whatever time I can for those who have someone. Even though I have very little control over it."

Chromia chuckled a little. "You're sweet."

Ironhide shifted and Chromia moved to get to her pedes despite clearly not wanting to. I got to my pedes as well, seeing that we were moving now. Ironhide gave Chromia a long hug and then kissed her passionately once more, brushing her cheek gently with his fingers. He rested his forehead against hers for a moment when they pulled away and whispered his love.

Then he wished us a good remainder of our day, told me to behave, and then left.

"Geez Shade'," Arcee said, looking amused. "You dared to misbehave with Ironhide."

I just shrugged, looking sheepish. "Not terribly. He just had to convince me not to starve myself because of my emotions." I shook my helm. "Again, I hope I never have to pretend to be a traitor again."

"Poor femme," Chromia said, sounding sympathetic.

We left the showers then, moving on in our tour to the next completed building, which was the medbay building. Ratchet was in the process of moving things from the temporary medbay to it with the help of Bumblebee, Wheeljack and Jazz, so we greeted them.

Bumblebee made a point to pause his work to pull me into a hug and whirl apologetically and questioningly as he motioned toward my wings.

"I'm ok, 'Bee," I told him softly. "Don't worry about it."

"Wait," Chromia said. "That pretending to be a traitor stuff. Did that just end?"

"This morning was the official end," I answered, shifting a wing slightly.

Bumblebee whirled, motioning with his hands.

"Sounds like 'Bee didn't even buy it," Elita said, looking amused.

"I didn't either!" Wheeljack called from a bit aways where he was carrying a box.

Ratchet looked a bit grouchy about his outburst where he was walking behind him.

"Well, thanks for your faith? I think?" I said, not sure if I was touched or offended at my poor acting.

Bumblebee whirled again, sounding reassuring.

I smiled at him, deciding to appreciate it genuinely. "You're a good friend, 'Bee," I said softly, reaching out and touching his arm.

Bumblebee looked happy. Then he turned to Elita and Chromia to greet them enthusiastically, giving them each a hug and whirling lots of things. I only somewhat followed what he was saying, having had a hard time deciphering his made up noise-language. I could make out intentions sometimes, but not enough to have full conversation like the other bots seemed able to.

We moved on fairly quickly, Bumblebee needing to get back to work, but we did so with the promise of more time to spend later.

"I didn't realize how fresh the traitor stuff was," Elita said as we walked away from medbay. "You have been rather cheerful and open for a femme who just went through being treated as such."

"Like I told Arcee," I said. "Nothing that anyone did was unexpected. Not even Sunstreaker beating me up. I was expecting her to do it, but, you know." I shrugged. "I don't begrudge anyone. I deceived them, after all. I'm just glad it's over. I'm not as over it as I may seem, but I'm not gonna take it out on anybot. I just have stuff to process."

"Speaking of the twins," Arcee said, nudging me. She nodded toward where the twins were loitering on the road.

"Hmm," I hummed.

"What are they up to?" Elita wondered.

"No good, probably," Chromia said, eyeing them.

"Imma find out," I said.

"No fear," I heard Arcee say in amusement as I walked a bit faster to get ahead of the little group of femmes.

"Even after being beat up. Impressive." That was Chromia.

I ignored them and jogged a bit ahead to meet the twins with some distance between us. The twins pretended not to notice me immediately and I raised my optic ridges.

"'Ello," I said. "What are you twins up to? Am I smelling a prank?" I kept my tone light, non-accusatory.

Sideswipe chuckled as Sunstreaker glared at that.

"You gonna tell Prowl if you are?" Sideswipe asked, optics sparkling.

"Only if it's harmful," I replied, amused. "Though the others might anyways." I motioned toward the other femmes, who had stopped and seemed to just be observing.

Sideswipe chuckled. "Probably." He agreed. He looked over at his brother then back at me, sobering up. "We were actually looking for you. Wanted to make sure you were doing ok."

I shrugged. "Ratchet's got me on pain meds, so I'm not in pain," I said quietly. "Otherwise, probably what you'd expect."

"Yeah," Sideswipe said awkwardly. He looked past me toward the femmes. "Is that Elita and Chromia?"

"Yeah," I replied. "Arrived this afternoon. Arcee and I are giving them the grand tour. Of our very much incomplete base."

"I got word earlier of a couple of the quarters being completed," Sideswipe said. "So that will help. So will having medbay complete. I'm sure Ratchet will move in there. And you, since you're currently injured." He reached out and touched my sling.

My wings tensed a little at the unexpected touch and I moved back a little as he pulled away.

"Sorry, I shouldn't have touched you without asking," Sideswipe said.

"It's ok," I said reflexively and then flinched at doing it again. I ran a hand down my face. "I mean…Well…it is, but…ugh…Sorry, I said that reflexively and I'm trying to be thoughtful about accepting apologies and not just accepting them willy nilly. It is ok, though. Just…respect my bubble for now. We gotta be friends first before you enter my space. We've hardly talked as it is. My main experience outside of a mission is your brother beating me up while you played lookout."

Sideswipe winced. "Right," he said, rubbing the back of his helm. "Sorry. About that."

"I do not begrudge you it," I reassured. "I merely mean I will require more positive interactions in order to be friends." I paused, hesitating. "If that's what you want, anyways. I would not be opposed."

"Really?" Sideswipe seemed to perk at that.

I nodded. "I mean what I say," I said. Then I paused and chuckled nervously. "At least, when I'm not pretending to be a traitor. Ugh, I'm never going to stop cringing about it. It's there now. Forever part of my character history."

"There, there," Sideswipe patted the air, pretending to pat my helm. "You'll be ok."

I chuckled at that, feeling more than a little awkward. I rubbed the back of my helm. "Well, anywho, I better get back to the femmes," I said. "We got a tour to finish."

"See ya around, Shadebreaker," Sideswipe said.

"After while, Sideswipe," I said, giving him a two finger salute. I waved to Sunstreaker and then jogged over to where the others were observing.

"You ok, fembot?" Chromia asked, eyeing the twins suspciously.

"Yeah, they apparently were looking for me to check on me," I replied, shrugging. "So I told them how I'm doing and then set a boundary about personal space and extended an olive branch, that is to say, offer a way to bridge the gap and rid us of the tension between us. A…um, I offered to be friends, basically. I'm not really sure how to explain that phrase, I'm realizing. I'm not even sure if I used it right."

Chromia chuckled and Elita smiled softly.

"I think you used it right," Arcee said. "But I don't know how to explain it either."

I shrugged. "Sideswipe said he heard a couple of the buildings for our quarters are completed," I said. "Perhaps we could go check them out."

"Oooo," Arcee said. "That will be helpful now that our numbers are growing so rapidly."

"Indeed," I said.

The rest of the tour went without any interruptions and was rather pleasant. Unfortunately, while there were a couple buildings completed for quarters, the humans in charge of construction weren't ready to let anyone in yet as the paint was still drying—they'd be ready for bots to move into tomorrow, though and then someone could tour them. But Arcee and I were able to show them the locations where other buildings were slated to be built, even ones not started yet, and the beaches—including the bot-only one, the one we could visit with humans and the human-only beach. And, of course, the field where the damaged ship had been parked.

After the tour, we separated a bit for dinner. And now it was just Ratchet, Wheeljack and I left in medbay as Ratchet tended to changing my arm and shoulder bandages in order to check on the healing process. Wheeljack had already retired to a room for the night—choosing to sleep here while waiting for quarters and using his old status as med-caste as an excuse we could use to any humans who could argue about it.

"Are the pain meds managing the pain alright?" Ratchet asked gently.

"I can tell they're starting to wear off," I replied softly. "But I felt no pain through the day after they'd first kicked in."

"How's your appetite?" Ratchet asked, concern in his voice.

"Seems to be returning," I told him, smiling a bit. "Dinner was a lot easier to consume than lunch had been."

"How's…" Ratchet hesitated, his medical tone faltering a moment.

"My spark doesn't hurt so much anymore," I answered gently, knowing why it was hard to keep up the professional tone. Because it was a personal pain that he had caused. "Re-establishing our friendship bond really helped…and I think I'm forming some more bonds with Arcee and her sisters. Arcee apologized and accepted my apology and 'Bee was kind and forgiving. Today was very conducive to healing for everyone, I think. All we need is to find Bulkhead and get him home safe."

"Let us hope Prowl can get Steadishift to talk," Ratchet sighed.

"Indeed," I said. I paused for a long moment as he finished wrapping my shoulder and started replacing the sling. "I ran into the twins today, too."

Ratchet paused, looking at my face with a searching look. "And how'd that go?" He asked carefully as he resumed his work.

I shrugged my free shoulder. "A little tense," I said. "But I offered an olive branch. Sideswipe, at least, seemed like he wanted to take it. Sunstreaker was harder to read. They at least wanted to make sure I was ok. Nothing bad happened between us, though. So…I guess we'll see how it goes?"

"Hmph," Ratchet gruffed. "The twins have always been trouble. They may not beat you up again, but I don't have my hopes up of friendly encounters. They're pains in the aft."

I chuckled a bit. "We'll see," I said. "I'll reserve my judgment until I see for myself. I expected one thing from Wheeljack and got something different, after all. I mean, he's not entirely different from what I expected, but different enough."

Ratchet hummed. "Just be careful," he said. "Even if they do end up friendly with you, they could steer you into trouble before you know it."

"I know, Ratchet," I said softly. "I'll be careful."

"I'll get you some painkillers, then I'll show you to your room," Ratchet said.

"Thank you," I told him, bowing my helm a bit to him.

Once he had me settled in a room, unfortunately still without blankets cause we were still fighting with requisitions about it, I fell asleep within minutes. A testimony to how tired I was given it usually took me ages to fall asleep.

Chapter Text

Chapter 13: Moving On

It was decidedly nice not having a meeting in secret in a darkened medbay, I decided first as I sat at the table in a room within that same medbay three days after Chromia and Elita had arrived. While medbay was still now the best place for meetings besides the ship, it was now lit and open and there was no longer a need for secrecy.

Besides myself, around the table sat Optimus, Elita, Ironhide, Prowl, Jazz, and Chromia. The twins had taken over guard duty of the prisoner for the day. Ratchet and Wheeljack were busy with the Ground Bridge and Bumblebee and Arcee were off base, investigating an artifact location. Our concern about Bulkhead and the hiccup of the Shifter didn't put a stop to the artifact concerns. Only now the Decepticons wouldn't receive word about when we'd go after them and eventually they would catch on to that.

"Any progress with our prisoner, Prowl?" Optimus asked, starting the meeting off.

"Minimal," Prowl said, his doorwings the only betrayal of his frustration. "All we have gotten out of him thus far is what we already know. That he replaced Bulkhead on the Energon Harvester mission."

I raised my hand.

"I know what you have to say, Shadebreaker," Optimus said, sighing. "And you are still healing from your ordeal with Sunstreaker. We are not sending you back in time."

"I would just be the transport," I argued. "And it's time travel. We're not limited to doing it now. Just pointing that out." I lowered my hand, and helm a bit to indicate that was all I had to say.

"Time travel seems….risky," Elita said, looking at me in concern.

"It is," I said, hesitating just slightly. "I'm just saying it's an option. I've already done it once without screwing everything up. But that time didn't involve interfering in anything. But…my whole presence here could be considered interfering." I shrugged a bit.

"Yes, but you're not interfering with the flow of time by merely existing," Jazz pointed out.

"Am I not?" I asked, raising my optic ridges. "I'm not native to this timeline, far as we know. The timeline has already deviated from its expected course by quite a margin. It's the butterfly effect. One small change can make big changes occur. Going back in time for Bulkhead could end up being the worst idea, but it might be the best option. It's impossible to know for sure as of yet. Just as it was impossible for me to know for certain if it'd be safe to share my information, but I felt the risks of not were greater given the variables."

"I think," Chromia said carefully. "We should stick with trying to find out where Bulkhead is for now. Time travel is tricky and dangerous business and it sounds like a lot of variables need to be taken into account before it is even attempted."

I nodded in agreement.

"It is not entirely off the table, but I agree," Prowl said, picking up a datapad. "Handled incorrectly or having one thing go awry could easily tip the entire cosmic balance into disarray. While it could theoretically go off without a hitch, the risks are too great to go into it without more information."

"Anyone else have any thoughts?" Optimus asked. When no one did, he moved on. "Very well, then. Shadebreaker, am I right that you have shared with us all of the artifact locations you have now?"

"All that I can pinpoint," I confirmed. "As you already know, there was one that never gave me enough information to go off of. The Cybertronian Data Cylinder. So unless we get a signal from it, it's a shot in the dark if we go searching for it."

"Which is unfortunate, given what you said it contains," Prowl frowned at his datapad.

"It would be quite handy to have a full formula," I agreed. "But I did provide Ratchet with the partial formula."

"Formula for what?" Chromia asked curiously.

"Synthetic energon," Optimus supplied.

"Coupled with the Energon Harvester, our energon supply worries would be pretty much over," Prowl said. "If we either acquire the cylinder or Ratchet can complete the formula on his own."

"If it exists and we beat the 'Cons to it, it would give us at least an even playing field, if not an advantage in the energy department," I said. "Given the 'Cons have their hands in most of the Earth's energon deposits."

"If?" Chromia asked.

"We have already identified some of Shadebreaker's information to be faulty," Optimus said. "Such as a potential location of the AllSpark she investigated. As well as the Omega Keys."

"You were able to confirm what Ser-ket claimed, then?" I asked, tilting my helm.

Optimus nodded. "It seems in her arrogance, she let slip a critical piece of information."

"So they don't exist or they are located in different places," I said thoughtfully. "Hmm."

"Which do you think is more likely?" Ironhide asked gruffly.

I shrugged. "I mean," I said, then looked at Optimus. "After obtaining the Star Saber, have you received a message from Alpha Trion at all?"

Optimus paused, as if not expecting this question. Then he shook his helm. "No," he said carefully. "Should I have?"

"If the Omega Keys existed?" I asked. "I would've expected you to. Unless the timing is off? Maybe? In the show that was how you even knew to look for them. But acquiring the Star Saber was the trigger for the message, as it was embedded in the sword itself. I would've expected it to trigger by now. My money is on they don't exist in this timeline based on that and the fact the second location showed no sign of one. Double confirmation seems pretty solid evidence to me, given that was the only continuity in which the Omega Keys even existed."

"I can agree with that," Elita agreed.

"So you almost got fried by that Predacon for nothing?" Jazz asked incredulously.

"Information?" I asked with a shrug. "Everyone survived, at least. And it led to us knowing we had to sus out a mole. It wasn't completely useless."

Ironhide made a noise of displeasure. "You came awful close to death for that information, fembot."

"To be fair, we thought we were going after something. And I faced that Predacon to keep Optimus and the others alive. Not just willy nilly. In case you forgot."

"She's as temperamental as you, Prowl." Chromia said, chuckling.

"I believe you are the temperamental one," Prowl shot back nonchalantly.

My wings shifted slightly and I frowned, tilting my helm. I was being temperamental, wasn't I? Why? Was it just stress? Was there something else?

"Is there any other information you have, Shadebreaker, that you feel safe telling us?" Optimus asked, bring my attention back to the meeting. "That you have not shared previously."

I thought about that for a moment. A long moment. A moment that was more like several minutes. I went over everything in my helm, as well as checked and cross-referenced dates. I tilted my helm with a frown.

"Not that I am certain will come into play," I said carefully. "Or that I'm certain we can do anything in the now about. Everything is different. There are…things…events, but…after Makeshift ended up not even being Makeshift…I'm inclined not to share things until something comes up and it's clear my knowledge will be useful rather than misleading. If I set us up to deal with one thing and then another thing happens, it could end up pretty bad depending on the scenario."

Optimus nodded. "I understand," he said. Then he pressed a button on the table. "Next up on the docket is the matter of the AllSpark." A holomap of the Earth appeared with the possible AllSpark locations I had provided him light up in three small blue dots. "These are locations Shadebreaker has provided where she believes it could be possibly be."

"Possible being the keyword," I said dryly. "I had only other realities to go off of. But starting somewhere is better than nowhere since the most likely location was a bust."

"What are the odds for these locations?" Chromia asked.

I shrugged. "Same as any other," I said. "Maybe a bit better. I don't know the stats on the odds of the AllSpark being in the same place in two realities not part of the same continuity family. Other than Earth as a general whole, anyways." I stopped myself from making a snarky comment about my wayward father and the fact he could probably tell us.

We moved on, discussing a plan to investigate each location. A couple of the locations we could investigate on our own, but the third one we would need human help, as it was located inside Hoover Dam. Whether the humans would cooperate with us if it was there was a whole other thing to be seen. I wondered if Sector 7 existed if they would be open to working with us or not.

As I wondered, I also shared my limited knowledge of the organization with the gathered bots. I made sure to make it clear that I did not know if the organization existed in this timeline or not. It didn't in Prime, but neither had N.E.S.T. and said organization was from the same reality. And I warned caution in the event they did. They ended up working with the 'Bots in that reality, but not before harming them and causing problems. It was hard to know what kind of organization they were if they existed in this reality and we had not yet heard about them.

After that, it was a matter of housekeeping. A decision had to be made about who would be given the next two quarters that were ready to be moved into. The first two that had been completed had been given to Optimus and Elita, as well as Ironhide and Chromia—everyone agreeing bonded pairs took precedence and that they deserved having space to bond and reacquaint themselves without worry of intrusions. As much as possible, at least. But, due to the way the quarters were being built, there were now two more quarters ready.

Eventually, we convinced Prowl to accept one of them—allowing him the privacy he preferred and a place of safety and rest we all thought he deserved as our hard-working second-in-command. The other one took some time to decide on. Ratchet was likely a permanent resident of medbay, as the base's only medic and I was still recovering, so we were easy to rule out. The problem was that everyone deserved quarters just as much as everyone else. Eventually, I suggested we make cards with every bot's names on them and do a random drawing. They accepted this idea and Arcee ended up getting it, which she was sure to be happy to hear.

"Are there any questions or concerns that anyone wishes to address while we are gathered?" Optimus asked after that was dealt with.

I hesitated before lifting my hand slightly. "I…have one…" I said quietly.

Bumblebee whirled as he and Arcee tromped through the snow of the arctic.

"You said it, 'Bee," Arcee agreed, looking around the snowy landscape. "Good news is, no sign of the 'Cons. For once. Now we just gotta figure out if the humans have found the armor like Shadebreaker thought might've happened or if it's still at the bottom of the sea." The scanner she held in her hands was definitely picking up something.

Bumblebee whirled in concern as they came to the edge of the icy sea.

"Good question," Arcee said. She pulled a device from subspace Wheeljack had given her. "We'll just have to hope this device Wheeljack cooked up works."

Bumblebee nodded and signed fervently, volunteering himself to go.

Arcee shook her helm, already placing the device on her bicep. "Uh-huh," she said. "I'm lighter. I need you up here to pull me back up."

Bumblebee made a noise of reluctant acceptance before taking out some climbing gear from subspace.

He helped Arcee get geared up to delve into the water in order to climb down the ice to descend. Once they were certain she was secure, Bumblebee checked all the buckles a third time and connected the rope to her, ensuring it was secure as well.

"Ok," Arcee said, turning Wheeljack's device on and running checks on it. It buffered the cold, aiding her systems in keeping her core temperature from dropping to too cold of temperatures. "I'll pull twice when I need you to pull me up. Got it?"

Bumblebee whirled an affirmative, a determined look on his face.

Arcee nodded and then they stood at the edge. They blasted a hole in the ice, opening a way into the water below. Then she began her descent, bracing against the cold that penetrated her frame. Even with Wheeljack's extra layer of protection there was no denying how cold the water of the arctic was. How the humans would remove anything from it was beyond her.

Every several yards, Arcee would pause to remove a scanner—waterproof and proven to withstand enough pressure to be safe at the depths of ocean they could potentially need for this retrieval—to check for vicinity to the artifact. It definitely was picking up something. It wasn't until Arcee was near the bottom, close to the end of the rope, that she found it.

There you are, she thought as she saw the form of something clearly not of Earth origin frozen in the ice wall. It was close enough to the edge to be seen in vague detail, but not quite in full detail. It might take a bit to chisel out.

Prowl, Ironhide and Chromia stepped out of the portal into the jungle not long after the meeting had ended. Optimus hadn't wanted to waste any time in investigating the AllSpark locations. It was only a matter of time before the Decepticons figured out they wouldn't be informed when they'd be able to ambush them at the sites of the artifacts, after all. And the AllSpark locations weren't a matter they might wait on to begin with.

"How do we know the 'Cons haven't investigated this place already?" Chromia asked as they started making their way through the dense jungle.

"We don't," Ironhide gruffed, keeping an optic on the scanner as he pushed foliage out of his way.

"If it was here, there will be traces." Prowl said, wings alert as his optics scanned their surroundings.

"And perhaps another trap," Chromia said.

Ironhide couldn't help but agree. Even if the AllSpark wasn't here, there was a very real possibility that the Decepticons were lying in wait for them to investigate. They may not be entirely reliant on their Shifter friend for that capability.

Too bad bonds don't work the way Shadebreaker had hoped, Ironhide thought to himself dryly.

The femme had hoped friendship bonds might open a way for them to reach her if they needed an extraction and their comms were jammed, but unfortunately the distance would be too great. She might get a vague sense that something was wrong, but there wouldn't be a way for her to know for certain which bond it was from. At least, not with her level of experience with bonds.

Plus, most bots preferred their bonds to grow naturally, so as good natured as her intentions were, they weren't practical when no one wanted to artificially boost their bond's strength. Ironhide was glad when she'd accepted those answers and apologized for any offense. She had asked the question with enough care and innocence in her tone that the bots had given her grace with ease. She still had a lot to learn about Cybertronian culture.

They searched the jungle in silence, alert for any signs of Decepticons, humans or the AllSpark. Anything that might give them some clue as to what their next move might be.

"Didn't Shadebreaker say there was some kind of temple for the AllSpark?" Chromia asked after they'd been searching for a couple hours.

Prowl nodded, looking around. "A large one," he confirmed, consulting a datapad for a moment. "Of similar make to the Mayan temples, if it were to follow the same specifications as that reality's location." His doorwings shifted.

"What if it don't?" Ironhide asked gruffly as he followed something the scanner had picked up. He took a few steps more and then pulled aside some foliage to reveal a large stone slab covered with Cybertronian writing.

Chromia and Prowl shared a look.

"Should we tell Optimus we found something?" Chromia asked. "It could be it."

"It could also be something else entirely," Prowl pointed out logically. He stepped forward, fingers touching the ancient writing. "These are written in the ancient language of the Primes. Dating this site well before the ejection of the AllSpark."

"Doesn't rule out it being here," Ironhide gruffed.

"Clear out more of the foliage," Prowl ordered. "Let us see what we are looking at."

The three of them hacked the vines away and uprooted some of the other plants as needed to clear the structure. It was a much larger structure than Ironhide had initially assumed, taking up more space than the three of them combined. And every inch of it was covered in the writing of the ancients Prowl had identified.

"Do either of you read Ancient Primic?" Chromia asked.

Prowl and Ironhide shared a look.

"Optimus or Elita might be able to decipher it," Prowl said after a moment.

They took pictures of the entire structure, making sure to get the entire inscription documented for decoding back at base. Then they looked closer around the structure to determine if there was anymore to it. They were about to move on when Chromia lightly touched one of the runes and then suddenly the writing lit up in a wave going out from that one character.

"What the-?" She asked, retracting her hand immediately.

There was a rumbling as Ironhide and Prowl moved to gather behind her to observe. As they watched, the stone structure shifted and moved, folding in on itself to make way for a passageway to appear before them. Once it stopped, a staircase sat before them, lit by lights similar to those found lighting tunnels back on Cybertron.

They all shared a look.

"Well," Chromia said. "Who wants to go into the mysterious passageway first?"

Prowl's doorwings twitched just slightly at that, but he said nothing as he made the first move to enter into the structure that had opened before them, drawing his weapon in case of an ambush. They had no idea what to expect, after all.

Ironhide and Chromia shared a look before following, though not without sending an update to base so they'd be aware of what was going on.

I sipped on my energon as I watched the main computer in the tent intently. I watched the lifesigns of each bot who was away and kept an optic on their coordinates as well—and the status of the comm-signals. Only the teams seeking out the AllSpark were away now, consisting of the same bots who had been in the meeting.

Arcee and Bumblebee had called for pickup not long ago—the confirmed Apex Armor in hand. They reported they had gone uncontested by either Decepticons or humans, which was a relief. I had sent them to medbay to go through defrosting procedures with Ratchet and they had taken the armor with them.

.:Optimus to base,:. Optimus's voice came through the comms. .:We have completed our investigation of our coordinates and request transportation home.:.

.:Copy that, boss bot,:. I replied.

I opened a portal and waited for the Prime to come through with Elita and Jazz. Once the three were through, each a little frosty, but nowhere near as much as Bumblebee and Arcee had been, I closed the portal. I glanced back at them, looking them up and down and noting the lack of anything in their servos.

"No luck?" I asked.

"That place was nothing but an empty wasteland of snow," Jazz said, brushing some of said substance off his shoulder.

I sighed slightly and turned back to the computer.

"Any word from our other away teams?" Optimus asked, stepping up next to me.

"Arcee and Bumblebee got back a bit ago," I replied, swirling my energon. "Apex Armor in hand, having had no 'Con troubles. They're defrosting in medbay. Prowl's team have made an interesting discovery."

"Interesting how?" Elita asked as I took a sip of my energon.

"They found something," I said. "Not what I expected them to find if it was the AllSpark. It could still be the AllSpark. Some kind of underground structure of seemingly Cybertronian origin. From some time before the war."

"Before the war?" Jazz asked, sounding perplexed. "Ya mean, Cybertronians have been here before?"

"Apparently," I replied. "It's not unheard of in the multiverse. In some realities our kind visits Earth periodically from the beginning of time for one reason or another. Like our planets' fates are forever intertwined in the cosmic balance. It's not entirely farfetched. But it's also kind of an easy plot excuse for why the war brings Autobot and Decepticon here. Plus the obvious energon deposits being evidence enough." I shrugged. "We could get philosophical about it all day and not come to a solid conclusion. I have my own theories that may or may not hold any water. We'll just have to see what they find."

"What does the Matrix say, OP? You think they're about to find the AllSpark?" Jazz asked.

Optimus hummed. "I cannot say for certain," he said. "But I feel whatever it is will be of great importance."

My wings shifted at that and I watched their coordinates move with a bit more focus. I also kept an optic on the readings around them for signs of the Decepticons arriving in the area.

"Strange," Prowl said.

"You don't say," Chromia said sarcastically.

Prowl shot her a withering look before turning back to the deadend they had run into. He reached out and traced the lines of light, analyzing the wall and the art that decorated it.

The art seemed to depict several bots facing down a great foe, but it was highly stylised. If he squinted, one of the bots depicted looked kind of like Optimus. Next to him, however, was a bot that looked kind of like Megatron, so Prowl thought he must be seeing things. Optimus and Megatron fighting side by side didn't make any sense.

These were ancient depictions, as well. From long before the two bots existed. Logically, it was more likely these two were the respective leaders' ancestors if there was any connection at all. Perhaps their ancestors had visited Earth and vanquished a mighty foe together at one time.

None of the other bots were detailed enough to make out any recognizable features. Those two seemed to be the prominent subjects of this mural.

"Taking pictures for the report?" Chromia asked.

Prowl nodded as he moved around the room doing just that. Then he came across a small rune and paused. He reached out to touch it. It glew red as if denying him something.

"Chromia," he called.

Chromia looked over from where she was analyzing the bots on the mural with Ironhide, debating with him if one of them looked like him. "What?"

"Come here for a second," Prowl said, not taking his optics off the rune.

He saw Chromia share a look with Ironhide before doing as he told her. Her mate followed, naturally.

"What do you need, Prowl?" Chromia asked, looking at the rune he was staring at so intently.

"This place opened at your touch, did it not?" Prowl asked.

"Yeah," Chromia said. "But what does that have to do with anything? It probably would've opened for either of you."

"It did not, however," Prowl said. "It opened for you."

"So?" Ironhide asked gruffly.

Prowl reached out and touched the rune, causing it to light up in red again. Then he backed up and motioned for Chromia to try.

Raising an optic ridge, Chromia moved forward and then reached a hand out toward the rune. Almost before her fingers had even touched it, the rune began to glow faintly blue. Once she did, it glew brighter and then that glow branched out in branching patterns. The wall shifted and folded in on itself as the structure outside had, revealing another hallway.

"That's…" Chromia said, feeling perplexed.

"Indeed," Prowl agreed.

After a brief deliberation, the three Autobots started cautiously down the hallway. They kept their sensors on alert for any signs of traps or other kinds of trouble. And along the way they gazed as the images on the wall seemed to depict a great battle against the same foe the previous mural had. There were smaller enemies as well that seemed to take on similar forms to the main one.

All along the images seemed to be leading back toward the mural they were leaving behind. Or from it, depending how you looked at it. On one wall it seemed like it was going toward the room they had come from while on the other it seemed to be departing, from what Prowl could decipher.

They came to another room—one much smaller than the previous one. The art ran along the wall, connecting the scene in what seemed like a great big circle. In the center of the back wall was a symbol that Prowl recognized vaguely as being similar to their current symbol for "time" and the presence and prominence of it perplexed him.

In the center of the room was a pedestal and sitting upon it was a shard of….something.

"What is it?" Chromia wondered as they approached it.

"Something," Prowl said, "I think, that is meant for you."

"What makes you say that?" Ironhide asked, not sure he liked the idea of his mate just reaching out and grabbing some unknown object and not knowing what might happen as a result.

"And what will happen once I take it?" Chromia asked.

"This place has only responded to you," Prowl pointed out. "As for what will happen. I do not know. We can only know by you reaching out and taking it."

"What if one of us takes it instead?" Ironhide asked.

"I imagine a failsafe of some kind will activate," Prowl said. "Though maybe not. Nothing happened when I touched the rune earlier. It merely denied us entrance."

Ironhide reached out to try to grab it, but a barrier stopped his hand. He retracted his hand and shook it a little as if it had shocked him, scowling.

"Well that answers that," Chromia said.

She tentatively reached out herself, hesitating at the distance her mate had hit the shield. When she moved forward, however, her hand met no resistance and she was able to pluck the shard off the pedestal with no trouble.

They waited with tense frames for a few moments, waiting for something, anything, to happen.

"That was anticlimactic," Chromia said dryly.

"I'll call Shadebreaker for pickup," Ironhide said gruffly, moving away.

Prowl shifted a doorwing, disconcerted as he stared at the shard in Chromia's servos. It looked rather unremarkable. Why was it hidden with such security measures? And why was it that Chromia was the bot to unlock them? And what was the energy that his wing sensors were picking up from it?

Optimus waited outside the tent with Elita, Jazz and Shadebreaker for Prowl's team to come through the portal. He could sense his bots' curiosity about what they had found in the jungles of Africa and couldn't deny how curious he was himself.

Prowl came through first with Ironhide and Chromia right behind him.

"Welcome back," Optimus greeted as they approached them.

Prowl bowed his helm in acknowledgement.

"You found something?" Shadebreaker asked, tone curious, but also containing a small amount of anxiety.

"Was it the AllSpark?" Jazz asked.

"Unfortunately not," Ironhide replied gruffly.

Optimus was about to speak, but then stopped as he got a notice on a line that had been inactive for a very, very long time. He pardoned himself and moved away from his bots for some distance, leaving them in concern and confusion.

.:Megatron,:. He greeted on the long dormant channel they had used before the war, when they had been Orion Pax and Megatronus.

.:Brother! How gracious of you to answer!:. Megatron's voice returned. .:A pity we cannot have this conversation face to face, don't you think?:.

.:What is this about, Megatron?:. Optimus asked, knowing the mech only used this line to gloat or to mock.

.:I have noticed a strange silence from one of my own. I suspect you have found Steadishift lurking among you. Don't you wish to know what happened to your Bulkhead, brother?:.

To taunt, then. .:We will find him soon enough.:.

.:Oh, but you may find soon enough may be too late, dear brother,:. Megatron said silkily. .:Unless, of course, you're willing to make a deal.:.

Optimus considered for a moment what Megatron might want in exchange for a moment. He could think of a few things. .:What kind of deal?:.

.:One where you get what you want and I get what I want.:. Megatron replied ignominiously.

Years ago, in the early days, Optimus might've had to resist the urge to grind his denta. Not now, though.

.:And what do you want, Megatron?:. Optimus asked.

.:A word, brother. With a certain daughter of a Prime. You know who I mean.:. Megatron replied.

Optimus frowned, optics moving to glance back towards the bots he had left behind. They were gathered, talking quietly as Chromia showed them something. Shadebreaker was reaching out to poke it with a frown on her face, clearly not recognizing it.

.:For what purpose?:. Optimus asked.

.:My purpose is my own.:. Megatron replied shortly. .:I'll give you time to mull it over. But not too much. Don't want you to get too cozy now, do I?:.

Megatron ended the connection there and Optimus was left feeling a sense of unease. His first thought was to decline the trade, to find another way to rescue Bulkhead. But Steadishift was being stubbornly tightlipped and he didn't feel much better about sending bots through time to change the course of events, even carefully as Shadebreaker had suggested. They had no way of knowing how removing Bulkhead from the timeline entirely for a stretch might affect things.

But he also had no idea what kind of words Megatron wanted to exchange with Shadebreaker and how that might affect things. Yet it seemed like the most controllable outcome. As much as he hated the idea of putting their newest member within arms reach of the tyrant mech. Megatron could do much damage to the poor femme who had already suffered so much. But messing with the timeline could do much more damage to everyone.

Optimus looked back fully at Shadebreaker, who had taken the shard fully from Chromia now and was holding it up to the sun as the bots looked at it as if doing so might give them some insight. He knew she wanted to do whatever it took to save Bulkhead. He just hoped it wouldn't cost her spark to do so.

He sighed heavily and moved to rejoin them. None of them were going to be happy about what he had to tell them.

Chapter Text

Chapter 14: Risks

"He WHAT?!" Ratchet was the first to react to Optimus dropping the bomb of Megatron's demand after they had gathered in the medbay meeting room.

The meeting consisted of the same bots as the one from the morning, but Ratchet had been added to the number as he was one of Optimus's most trusted officers and had completed work on the Ground Bridge for the day.

Ratchet wasn't the only one reacting with shock and clear anger at the idea. In fact, the only Autobots who didn't voice an immediate loud dissension were Elita, Prowl and Shadebreaker. Prowl because he was much too reserved for an over the top reaction and was more focused on observing the others. Elita voiced concerns, just a lot more calmly than the others.

Shadebreaker was another story. She frowned upon hearing what Megatron had asked for, wings shifting. She bowed her helm, clearly thinking deeply on the matter as she listened to her fellow bots dismiss the idea entirely on the basis of her safety.

Optimus held his hands up. "Calm yourselves," he said. "I have not yet given him an answer."

"You can't seriously be considering it, Prime," Ironhide said. "I know we want to save Bulkhead, but…" He trailed off, glancing at Shadebreaker for a moment and then looked back at Optimus. "You know what Megatron does with femmes."

Shadebreaker's wings shifted and she tilted her helm to look at Ironhide. "You do not need to dance around saying it, Ironhide," she said. "I'm not a youngling. I'm aware of the type of mech Megatron is."

Ironhide shifted slightly. "Yet I don't hear you protesting. You realize he could kidnap and rape you or just straight up murder you or enslave you or put you back under Shockwave's scalpel and yet you don't protest?"

Shadebreaker's lips thinned and her wings shook a little before she flicked them a couple times. "I do realize what he could do to me, yes," she said. "I have not protested because I am thinking."

"What's there to think about?!" Ratchet asked grouchily. "We cannot let him in a room alone with her, Optimus!" He turned to look at Prime.

"Do I not get a say in this?!" Shadebreaker snapped, wings lifting in offense.

"Of course you do," Optimus said, cutting off any protest from his medic and the others with a wave of his hands. He motioned toward her. "What are you thinking?"

Shadebreaker shifted a wing. "You said he just wanted a word? He didn't specify that he wanted a word alone with me," she said. "As long as we keep that from being specified, I do not have to be alone with him to use this as our way to get Bulkhead back. Without risking the dangers of time travel. Because the way I see it, it's this or time travel. They are both risky. This way…this way it is only myself at risk….and we can have more control over the risks."

"I still don't like it," Ironhide said gruffly.

"No one likes it," Prowl said. "But I agree with Shadebreaker. It is the less risky of the two options. The one with the least uncontrollable variables."

"Let me get this straight," Chromia said, lifting a hand. "You want to willingly let the mech within arm's reach of a bot with tentative knowledge of the future to have a conversation, the consequences of which could be anything. To save one bot's life. Risking the life of a bot of some importance and even possibly the rest of us depending on what Megatron learns from this conversation."

"I would not tell him anything that I would think would put your lives at danger," Shadebreaker said. "If he asks about the future, I can make some shit up. I've proven already I am capable of pretending under pressure. As much as I hate it. Unless I believe revealing something to him may ultimately benefit us as well, I don't have to tell him the truth. And, maybe what he asks will give me the opportunity to tell him something that is true and will lead to our benefit, making it easy and also beneficial." Shadebreaker shrugged. "It's hard to know since he didn't tell Optimus what his purpose for asking for me is. We can only hazard a guess that it has to do with my information."

"What else could it be about?" Jazz asked.

Shadebreaker held a hand out with her palm up, spreading her fingers out. "Literally anything," she said. "It could be about my information. It could be about something Shockwave was vague about in his databurst. It could be seeking more. It could be about something we couldn't predict at all. Maybe he thinks I know something about Vector Prime or one of his relics. Maybe he thinks he could sway me to the Decepticon cause. It's hard to know."

There was silence.

"Could he?" Elita asked delicately.

Shadebreaker looked at her and Optimus had the impression she had blinked blankly at his mate. "Could he…what?"

"Sway you to his side," Elita clarified.

"Absolutely not," Shadebreaker said, conviction filling her tone. "There's not a damn thing he could say that could change my mind. My loyalties are here. That's just that." She paused and shifted a wing. "If I were to ever work with them, they'd have to be holding something pretty serious over my helm. And I'd be hard pressed to see them find anything like that. Given all my ties in this reality are here."

"What about in other realities?" Jazz asked.

Shadebreaker looked at him.

"Shockwave kidnapped you to begin with," Jazz said. "Who's to say he didn't kidnap someone else from your reality? Someone you know?"

Shadebreaker opened her mouth, then hesitated. "I…try not to think about that," she said carefully. "But…it is possible." She seemed to consider for a long moment, bowing her helm with a frown. "Even then, though…I do not think he could convince me to cooperate with him. All the people I was close to in my home reality would encourage me not to let him manipulate me using them."

"Would you listen?" Ratchet asked meaningfully.

Shadebreaker looked at him, looking a bit chastised, knowing why he was asking. "I-" she sighed. "Yes." She sighed again. "I know I have a tendency to be self-sacrificing and it can be a problem, but I do have limits to that. I learned my lesson a long time ago about sacrificing who I am for someone else. There's a difference between risking my life and sacrificing my character. Even just pretending to be a traitor was on the border of what I'm willing to do. And that was really hard on me."

Ratchet frowned and looked down for a moment before looking at her sadly.

"It's good to know betrayal is not a worry," Elita said gently.

"It is a reasonable concern," Shadebreaker said. "Especially after the traitor thing. I showed I am capable of deceit. That surely comes with some doubts being created." She shrugged.

"We don't mean it that way," Jazz said, holding a hand out, palm up. "You are still relatively new, is all. And Megatron has a charisma to him. And is very good at manipulating bots. I just want you to be prepared for tactics he might use."

Shadebreaker nodded. "I'm familiar with the type," she said, tone sad. "And familiar with his tactics in particular as well. I know what to expect if that is his goal. He will not sway me. Even if he put on his best puppy-dog eyes."

Jazz chuckled a bit at that and a couple others smiled in amusement at her joke.

"That'd be a sight to see," Chromia said, tone amused.

"I doubt puppy-dog eyes are in his repertoire, however," Prowl said practically.

"Probably not," Shadebreaker said, shrugging. She was satisfied, having brought amusement to some of them about the situation. "My point still stands."

"We understand," Optimus said, nodding. "Any other thoughts?"

"Even if we prevent them from being alone together," Chromia said. "What's stopping Megatron from grabbing Shadebreaker and taking off?"

"We will keep a bot close at all times capable of preventing such an action," Optimus said with certainly.

"What bot would be such a deterrent?" Ratchet asked.

"I do not believe Megatron would attempt to take her if I was right by her side," Optimus replied.

"But then you'd be at risk, Optimus," Ironhide pointed out.

Optimus shook his helm. "If there's one thing I have learned over the past months it's that Megatron fears the power of the Star Saber. He would not dare face me in combat with such a power imbalance."

"He does have the Forge, however," Shadebreaker said carefully. "Caution is required either way. There's a reason he hasn't specified wanting a word alone with me. He thinks he has some kind of advantage. Or believes that whatever he might gain is worth the risk. Or maybe he simply thinks we won't do anything to risk Bulkhead."

"It is indeed hard to know," Prowl said. "Are you certain this is the action you wish to take, Optimus?"

"It may be our best chance at retrieving Bulkhead," Optimus said. "We have too little understanding of Shadebreaker's ability to time travel to risk interfering in the timeline."

"Very well," Prowl said.

"I don't like it," Ironhide gruffed.

Similar sentiments were held by everyone.

"I understand your hesitations," Optimus said, tone filled with understanding and patience. "I, too, do not like the idea of allowing our strongest enemy so close to Shadebreaker. She is new and vulnerable and the information she holds could prove dangerous in Megatron's hands, if he indeed doesn't already have all of it. That's not even mentioning the likelihood of his interest in her for her space-time portals themselves. If he knows she can slip through time, he could be seeking to use that to his advantage."

Shadebreaker's wings shifted and she frowned. She'd clearly not considered that possibility.

"But I have faith we will each do everything in our power to keep her safe and bring Bulkhead home safely," Optimus said.

"And if it comes to a question of if we bring Shadebreaker back or Bulkhead?" Jazz asked seriously.

There was a brief solemn silence as the reality of that choice sank into the bots in the room. Optimus watched as Shadebreaker became pained at the very idea of it. She did not want to leave Bulkhead. She did not want to be left either. Either choice would hurt.

"We will do everything in our power not to make that choice," Optimus said.

"If we must," Shadebreaker said quietly. "I have my portals. It is conceivable, I might find an escape. You should save Bulkhead over me."

"Now femme," Ironhide started.

"Don't 'now femme' me," Shadebreaker said and though there was force in her tone the volume wasn't there to back it up. "I'll not sacrifice a bot for my safety. Bulkhead's been here longer than me. Him being their captive for this long is due to my failure to see a Shifter had snuck in faster and differently than I expected despite knowing it was a thing that happened in the timeline. He doesn't deserve to be left there on my account."

"Do you think you do?!" Ratchet asked, slamming his hands on the table.

Shadebreaker's lips quivered a little bit. "N-no, but-"

"No buts, femme," Ratchet said.

"Enough," Optimus said, cutting off their argument. "If we are doing this, we aren't going to leave anyone behind." He turned to Prowl. "How do we ensure we don't have to make this choice?"

"I have a couple ideas," Prowl said, lifting a datapad.

Megatron stepped out of the Ground Bridge into the desert sands of Egypt, Soundwave and Starscream flanking him. Behind them Vehicons pulled the cart carrying the unconscious frame of the Autobot Bulkhead through, flanked by Knock-Out and his partner Breakdown. He looked around the desert, watching the winds blow the sand in swirls around them.

"What makes you so sure she has any new information, Master?" Starscream asked. "Or that she'll be willing to tell it?"

Megatron hummed thoughtfully. "You will see, Starscream," he said, watching as a portal opened up not far away.

He tilted his helm a little at it as he noticed the difference between it and the typical Ground Bridge. There was more purple and less blue. He raised an optic ridge as he watched Optimus come through first, Star Saber sitting prominently on his back.

Wants to make sure I know he's carrying it, Megatron observed this protective detail with interest.

The next bots that came through were Sideswipe and Sunstreaker, twins if Megatron's memory served—and it usually did. He recognized them from before the war, low caste bots who had fought in the pits much like himself. At one time he had been certain the duo would side with him. He readily noted the Immobilizer being carried by Sideswipe and the sharp glare on both their faces as they looked his way.

Just behind the twins came the bot he was here to see, stepping out with a neutral expression and flanked by the familiar forms of Ironhide and Prowl. An orange visor hid her optics, but Megatron still recognized when she saw him. Her wings shifted just slightly in way of recognition, as if seeing him had confirmed something in her mind. What something, Megatron wasn't sure. But it intrigued him.

The portal closed behind them, proving this was all the bots to be expected. Still, it was a heavy guard force. And Megatron watched as they exchanged short words after the femme glanced at Bulkhead for a long moment. Then they began their approach.

Only Optimus approached Megatron directly alongside the femme, however. The femme looked up at him with a surprisingly unreadable expression. Megatron had not missed the Phase Shifter attached to her just under the armor covering her shoulder.

"I'm here, Megatron," she said. "What do you want for the release of Bulkhead?"

Megatron laughed lightly. "Right to the point isn't she, Optimus?" He looked at his old friend, then looked down at the seemingly fearless femme. "We haven't even introduced ourselves. You know who I am, but I'm afraid I don't know your name."

The femme's optic ridge rose and she glanced up at Optimus. Then she looked back at Megatron still with that unreadable expression. "Shadebreaker, if you must know," she said calmly.

"Well, Shadebreaker," Megatron said silkily. "I was wanting to ask you about a peculiar piece of information my head scientist delivered to me. You see, he told me he plucked this information from an experiment of his and I have reason to believe that experiment is you."

Shadebreaker didn't reply, just looked at him, waiting expectantly.

"He said something very interesting about an old prophecy, you see," Megatron said carefully, watching her for some kind of reaction. "About a coming darkness."

There. It was small, but her expression flickered in recognition for a small moment.

"You know what I'm talking about," Megatron said, smirking.

"Unicron," Shadebreaker frowned. "Careful what information you seek. This may not go as you hope."

Megatron raised an optic ridge at this warning. He glanced at Optimus, but his old enemy didn't look like he had anymore answers than he did, judging by the subtle way his own optic ridge had lifted despite himself.

"You do know something, then," Megatron said. "Shockwave was rather…vague in his databurst."

Shadebreaker did something very peculiar for an Autobot then. She tilted her helm and frowned in…was that…concern? "Really?" She asked, sounding a bit interested to know that. "I would be cautious of treachery from that one, in that case."

Megatron laughed at that. "Do you forget who I am, Autobot?" he asked, amused. "I expect treachery from everyone!"

"That's sad," Shadebreaker said. Her tone wasn't sympathetic. It was matter-of-fact. As if it was just a fact of the world that to expect treachery from everyone around you was just a sad state of affairs.

"That's life, Autobot," Megatron said simply.

"Still sad," Shadebreaker shrugged. "So, if I tell you something about Unicron, you will give us Bulkhead?"

Megatron considered. He looked at Optimus, but found the mech uncharacteristically unreadable to himself. Then he looked back at Shadebreaker, who he could see was actively in thought. He motioned toward the unconscious mech.

"That is the deal," he said graciously.

Shadebreaker frowned, optics not leaving his face and Megatron felt like his very spark was being searched. It was a strange sensation to feel and he wasn't altogether sure he was comfortable with it.

"Very well," she said. "What is it that Shockwave told you and I will see what gaps I may fill in."

Megatron almost smirked at that wording. May was very diplomatic. It freed her from commitment to filling in all the gaps in order to fulfill her side of the bargain. He could press his advantage here. The Autobots were clearly desperate to get their Wrecker back.

"And what if may isn't good enough?" He asked.

"Do you want to risk the permanent destruction of Cybertron?" Shadebreaker asked. "Cause if I share too much, that's what I'm doing."

Megatron paused at her serious tone, raising an optic ridge. "Alright," he said. "Shockwave only informed me that the prophecy was about Unicron. Nothing more."

He watched as she took that information in and then mull over what she knew. She glanced up at Optimus once and then put a finger on her chin, clearly thinking deeply on the subject, finding something that was deemed safe to share.

"I can give you this warning, one your scientist should've if he knows what I do," she finally said. "If you have or gain access to Dark Energon while here on Earth, do not use it." Her tone was serious, carrying with it the weight of what felt like ten moons.

Megatron raised an optic ridge. "You are aware of my usage of it back on Cybertron, are you not?"

Shadebreaker nodded. "I'm aware," she said. "And maybe that means it might make no difference now. Maybe it doesn't. But…if there is any accuracy to my information, it should matter. Of course, if you want to disregard this and take the risk with your life, that's your prerogative."

"And what if, in theory," Starscream spoke up. "One has already partaken of it…on Earth?" Megatron saw him dart a glance at him, but quickly avert his gaze.

"Then I highly suggest purging it," Shadebreaker said. "And hoping it's enough."

"What is it, exactly, that's at stake?" Starscream asked.

Shadebreaker considered Starscream with that same soul searching look she had bestowed on Megatron a few minutes prior. "Like I said, Cybertron itself."

Starscream looked up at Megatron, but he ignored him.

After a moment of consideration, Megatron motioned for the Vehicons to move the cart forward.

"This was an…enlightening conversation," Megatron said.

"Indeed," Shadebreaker agreed as the cart approached.

A couple minutes later enlightened Megatron even more as he watched Shadebreaker open a portal for the Autobots to return home. What an interesting meeting that was.

Once we were through the portal and back home, Ironhide and Ratchet were immediately moving Bulkhead into medbay while Wheeljack inspected the cart for trackers or bombs or anything else dangerous.

Optimus placed a hand on my shoulder. "Shadebreaker," he addressed. "Is what you told Megatron truthful?"

"I mean, I completely exaggerated," I replied. "But that prophecy is about Unicron. It's one thing I'm fairly certain will happen in some capacity. Still determining what."

Optimus nodded in understanding. "I understand," he said.

Then he moved away, having to take a call.

I gusted air through my systems as I felt anxiety start creeping into my systems. I shifted a wing and looked to Prowl. "Am I still needed for anything?"

Prowl checked a datapad. "Negative," he said. "Not until our meeting in two hours to discuss what we found in the African jungles."

"Ok," I said. "I'll be at the beach until then in that case, if anyone needs me before then."

I portalled over there to get there faster. Mostly because I was still under orders not to transform unless necessary in order to go easy on my shoulder. I was out of the sling and bandages, but things were still a little tender.

I returned to medbay an hour and a half later, having settled my emotions in less time than expected and wanting to check on Bulkhead. I poked into the mainroom quietly, not wanting to distract Ratchet if he was still working. He was, so I ducked back out and wandered the building until I found Ironhide and Prowl in the meeting room already, drinking energon.

"Shade'?" Ironhide asked gently, beckoning me in when I hesitated. "We weren't expecting you until the meeting."

"I was able to calm my emotions," I said honestly as I entered swiftly, moving to stand awkwardly by the table. "So I wanted to check on Bulkhead. I saw Ratchet is still working on him."

"He will be ok," Prowl assured me. "Ratchet is a skilled medic. And Bulkhead is not in as bad shape as you were in when you arrived from what I have been told."

I smiled a bit wryly. "I was quite a mess," I confirmed.

Ironhide patted the chair next to him. "Come sit," he said. "Tell us how you are. You had to calm your emotions?"

I nodded, hesitantly taking a seat next to him. "Sometimes I feel my emotions at a bit of a delay. Like a 'get through the shit, then feel it' type deal," I told him. "Megatron terrifies me. But I didn't feel those feelings until we were back on base and safe. Because they weren't going to serve me in any way. I don't know how to explain it other than some kind of weird delayed emotional response. It only happens in situations where I feel like my life is in genuine risk. Not every time, but a good amount of times. Enough to call it my normal. So I kinda went and had a panic attack on the beach."

Ironhide and Prowl shared a look with raised optic ridges.

"What?" I asked, wings shifting.

"Nothing," Ironhide said. "Just, Ratchet's mood makes a lot more sense now. You two have a bond now, such strong emotions from you are going to affect him."

"Oh," I said.

"Also," Ironhide said, reaching over and placing a hand on mine that sat on the table. "Don't go off hiding by yourself to have panic attacks. We can't help you if you do that."

I looked down at our hands for a long moment. "I-" I mulled over his words. "I will try to remember that. It takes me a bit to feel safe letting people see me like that. Not many people have dealt with the rawer parts of me without leaving me, you know."

"I know," Ironhide said, tone understanding. "But we aren't all those people who abandoned you."

"I know," I said, turning my hand to wrap my fingers around his large palm. "And I will trust that more fully in time."

"Like you trust that telling Megatron what you did won't bite us in the aft?" Ironhide asked.

I shifted a wing. "Hopefully a little better than that," I said, smirking a little in amusement. "I was exaggerating to him to get him to accept that being all the information I gave him, but I have my own misgivings about what I told him. It could bite us in the afts, depending how he responds and how the Unicron business ends up playing out. But I'm relatively sure it'll work out either way. And if he listens we won't have Dark-En fueled Decepticons running around. Theoretically, at least."

"Let's hope that's more than theory," Ironhide said.

Chapter Text

Chapter 15: Mysteries

We sat around the table, gazing at the shard Prowl's team had brought back from the ancient Cybertronian temple they'd found in the African jungles. We had found some small inscriptions on it, but had yet to see if we could translate them.

"Did you find anything else?" Optimus asked, looking at the three bots who'd been on that mission.

"Well, the first thing we came across was a gigantic wall covered in the ancient Language of the Primes," Ironhide said.

"In Ancient Primic?" Elita asked, looking interested.

Prowl nodded. He pulled out a datapad and extended a cord from it to plug into the table. After tapping some buttons, several holo screens appeared displaying images of the wall.

I shifted in my seat, looking closer at it at the same time as Elita. As she was humming in thought, tracing lines with her fingers, I was trying to place why some of it looked familiar when I had not even seen any of it in all my time as a Transformers fan.

"We had thought this was it until it opened at Chromia's touch," Prowl said. He was about to continue when I spoke my thoughts out loud by mistake.

"This looks familiar," I muttered quietly.

Prowl's fingers paused over the buttons on his datapad as everyone looked to me. He gazed at me intently. "You know the Language of the Primes? Or is this from your information?"

"Neither," I replied, not much louder than my initial words. Then I pulled my own datapad out. I looked at it, then at Prowl's, then back at mine.

Ironhide leaned over and guided me how to replicate the action Prowl had taken to display the images from his datapad. Then, once I did so, the images I had taken of the structure in the cave when Vector Prime had first sent me to this reality appeared alongside Prowl's images.

"When dear old dad dropped me off in that desert cave and I delved into it, cause it beat standing out in the open and praying the 'Cons didn't find me first, I came across a structure with similar writing," I said. I reached up and traced lines on both. "The inscription looks identical."

"Interesting," Elita said. "Did you find anything else there?"

"I didn't really get a chance to look past this wall. Arcee found me after I took these pictures and then the 'Cons jumped us," I replied. I looked toward Prowl, silently giving the meeting back to him.

Prowl pulled up more images, this time of a mural. Or murals. "After descending into the structure we came to this room," he said, pointing to a picture that encompassed a large room with one large mural on one wall and more writing. "During our examination of this room, I discovered a rune that seemed to respond to touch. When I touched it, it shone a bright red color as many things do when denying a passcode or something similar. But when Chromia touched it…" He moved the windows so one was more prominent that showed a rune shining bright blue with branches spreading out from it.

"...it opened another passageway," Prowl continued. "The rest of these murals, the ones not part of that big mural, were lining the passageway. They seemed to depict the same thing as the main mural. A conflict of some kind, with what appears to be smaller versions of the foe depicted on the large mural in the first room."

I reached out and traced the line of the mural in one of the murals, then turned my attention to the image of the large mural as I listened to Prowl speak, focusing on it.

"At the end of the passageway," Prowl said, enlarging an image that I didn't see as I was focusing now on the large mural. "We came to a smaller room where we found the shard. The murals met and seemed to circle the shard, making their way from the previous room and then back to it."

"Like a cycle," I said absently. Then I paused my scrutiny of the image as I noticed everyone's silence and their attention had shifted to me again. I looked at them. "It's an artist's trick. Like an infinity sign. To have events depicted in a circle. Circles are usually used to depict cycles—things that are fated to happen in cycles, like the battle with the Reapers in the Mass Effect games that happen every ten thousand years until it's broken, or something like that. In science as well, the life cycle, for instance. How that applies here, I don't know. We don't even know what we're looking at yet."

"A cycle would make the prominence of the symbol for 'time' make a bit more sense," Prowl mused.

"You're scrutinizing that one image pretty hard, fembot," Chromia said as she saw me look back at the mural. "See something you recognize?"

"Besides the bots that look eerily like Optimus and Megatron?" I asked, pointing at the two most prominent figures.

"Yes," Chromia said, looking amused. "Besides them."

I poked the image a couple times before figuring out how to enlarge it. Once I did, I motioned at the large foe the bots in the mural were facing. "This guy," I said. "Looks like a stylized image of Unicron to me."

The bots were silent as they stared at the image.

"It…does resemble some depictions I've seen in my studies," Elita said.

"Yeah," Jazz agreed. "A little bit. If I squint."

"So, you think this shard has to do with Unicron?" Chromia asked, motioning to the object they'd found.

"Maybe?" I said, uncertain as I looked at the shard. "Or maybe it has to do with how to defeat him? Or to keep him in stasis at the very least? It would mean the Unicron business is definitely gonna take a different route than the route I have knowledge of if I'm right regardless. If this is a cycle, and the shard is related, then it is highly likely that every piece of my information that has been accurate has been more coincidence than because I entered into a timeline I knew. I mean, convenient that so much has been, but clearly we're on a separate timeline since before I even showed up if this discovery tells us anything."

The bots all shared a look with each other.

"What does that mean for what's left of what you know?" Jazz asked.

I waved a hand at all the images. "Based on this, vague ideas about what may be coming is all I got," I said. "Unicron was the one event I thought was a sure fire that I would have a handle on the details still with all the changes that were happening. This changes that. I may still be able to help in some events, but even the ones I know are quite open to being different, between this and the Shifter Incident. I mean, I know more than just events, too, that may be useful, but yeah."

"In light of this information," Optimus said, looking at me. "How do you feel about the warning you gave Megatron about Dark Energon?"

I shrugged a bit. "Not much different," I replied honestly. "There's still a chance that if he listens it might prove to cause a problem, but I think it's a navigable problem if it is a problem." I looked at the images of the murals for a moment before continuing. "Plus, it's Megatron. And he knows not all of my information has been accurate after the Omega Keys, so he might ignore it altogether, which would create its own problems."

"So either way, we got problems," Jazz said. "So you told him information that didn't mean much."

"I mean, it matters if he listens for what problems we face regarding Dark Energon," I said. "I'd prefer to deal with the problems of him not using Dark-En, which may not even be a concern based on this, over bringing back the Dark-En fueled Decepticons I read about from when the war was on Cybertron. It's much simpler, less prolonged, and at least somewhat less dangerous."

"Somewhat?" Ironhide asked.

I shrugged. "Jumping into a volcano somewhat," I said, humor in my tone a bit.

Ironhide raised his optic ridge, but I saw Prowl give a subtle smile at my reference to Ratchet's statement about me jumping into a volcano.

"I guess we'll see if he listens, then," Elita said.

"Indeed," I said in agreement. Then I glanced at the shard. "Were there any other…weird things like the rune only reacting to Chromia?" I poked at the shard.

"Yeah," Chromia said. "I was the only one it let remove it from the pedestal. Some kind of shield zapped Ironhide when he tried."

"Hmm," I hummed in thought. "Interesting."

"Do you have any theories based on the realities you have knowledge of?" Optimus asked.

"Nothing solid," I said. "The show is the only reality I really knew any details about dealing with Unicron from. Everything else I could tell would be pure speculation and theories. And we have little information to feed such theories."

"I understand," Optimus said.

There was silence for a little bit before someone spoke again.

"We should check out the location Shadebreaker identified," Prowl said. "The two locations seem connected."

"The Decepticons may have beat us to it," I said, leaning back in my chair and tilting my helm. "You know, since we got ambushed by them there."

"Even if they did," Prowl said. "If the place had the same security measures, they would've had to take the whole mountain."

"They could still be maintaining control over the place," Elita said. "If they decided it was a place of some importance."

"And I'd wager Megatron knows enough of the ancient Primes to consider it a place of importance," I said.

"I'd take that bet," Chromia agreed. "And add on that he might try to take the whole mountain."

"I believe it is worth checking out, regardless," Optimus said. "And, if these security measures and Vector's action of placing Shadebreaker there mean anything, Shadebreaker needs to be there."

I nodded, having come to that conclusion as well.

"I'll go as well," Ironhide said.

"And I," Chromia said.

"Very well," Optimus said. "We will also send the twins with you. Prowl, Bumblebee and I will standby in case you need backup."

"Understood," Prowl said.

I peeked out over the rocks we were ducked behind to determine whether it was safe to approach the cave Vector had dropped me at. I had portalled us a distance away so we wouldn't immediately be detected if the Decepticons were here.

"How's it look out there?" Ironhide asked, adjusting something on his cannon.

"The 'Cons are definitely here," I replied, counting. "I count ten at the top of the ridge that surrounds the cave entrance. My visor is picking up three more below at the immediate entrance. Invariably there will be more within, but that's outside of my range from here."

"Ok, so what's the plan?" Chromia asked. "If we just charge them from here, they'll see us coming."

"I can portal us closer. Theoretically, I could portal us right on top of them," I said, holding a finger up. "The ten up top are rather grouped together, looks like a collective break. I think they've been here long enough they've gotten comfortable. Complacent in the peace they have enjoyed."

"That, or whoever is in that cave is powerful enough they're not worried about an attack." Sunstreaker pointed out.

I frowned.

"We won't get anywhere sitting here and talking about it," Chromia said.

"Shadebreaker, why don't you just go ahead and put us right on top of them," Ironhide suggested.

I nodded, letting myself slide the little bit down the boulder to the ground. I pulled my Path Blaster out and checked to make sure everyone was ready before openning a new portal.

"Let's bust some afts," Sideswipe said, grinning.

The twins were the first through, followed by Ironhide. Chromia and I took up the rear. We came out of the portal literally right on top of the vehicles, falling to the ground from a small elevation just above where they lounged around chatting like this was a vacation.

I didn't pay much attention to the others other than to make sure no one was in need of help. Instead I focused on blasting the two Vehicons that had managed to slip behind where we emerged from. One of them got close enough to swing their sword at me, but I stepped back in time to dodge and then their helm exploded before anything else could happen.

I shot Chromia a "really? I had that" look and she shrugged before returning to the remaining Vehicons. I took out one more, then saw that the three posted at the front of the cave, plus a few more, were starting to scale the walls to join the fight.

I walked over and looked down as the others made short work of the one Vehicon left up here. "Ya'll don't really think you can make it here, do ya?" I asked as the others moved up too.

The vehicons stopped, looking at us and then at each other.

"We're dead." I heard one of them say.

And they were. It felt simultaneously like an Obi-Wan "I have the high ground" moment and a Mass Effect "Why shoot something once when you can shoot it 46 more times" moment. I wasn't sure whether I was amused by this similarity or if I felt bad for the Decepticons.

"You ever feel bad for the poor sods who get put on fodder duty?" Sideswipe asked, reloading his gun.

"Naw," Chromia shrugged and jumped down with Ironhide.

"Only a little," I said as I frowned at my gun. It felt abnormally warm in my hand. I checked it over briefly. "They chose their side, though."

"Why should we feel sorry for those slaggers?" Sunstreaker asked his brother as he approached.

"I was just wondering," Sideswipe shrugged.

Sunstreaker took my blaster gently from my hands for a moment, looked at and then gave it back. "I would put that away for something else. And have Ironhide look at it back at base. It's gonna explode on you if you fire it two more times."

I nodded, understanding. I subspaced it and then took out a different, more generic weapon I'd chosen as a backup for that first mission. Then we jumped down to join the others.

"What took ya?" Chromia asked as we joined them where they were peering into the cave.

"Weapon malfunction," I said, keeping the sigh out of my voice.

"I'll take a look when we get back," Ironhide said.

I nodded and looked toward the cave, focusing. "I'm not picking up anymore life signs." I said, tone cautious.

"They could be cloaked," Ironhide said. "Move in, carefully. Shade' stay in the middle."

My wings shifted slightly, but I didn't argue about it. All indicators said I needed to be available to get into the place to begin with. Plus I had the least amount of combat experience and it made sense to put the weakest in the middle, protected. It hadn't been lost on me, however, that Chromia had said I was a bot of some importance as well, whatever she meant by that—I disagreed, but the meeting hadn't been the place to do so.

The cave was quiet as we delved into it and I noted the fact it was much more lit up since I was last here. The Decepticons had strung up lights so they could navigate without the use of their flashlights all the time. I kept an optic out in every direction and my wing sensors on high alert.

It wasn't very long before we made it to the wall I had taken pictures of. There was mining equipment left around and scorch marks. There was still damage to the pillar the little cloaking dude had gotten his sword stuck in that day. The damage around the wall showed the Decepticons had been attempting to dig their way in.

"Was that really it for the welcoming committee?" Sideswipe asked skeptically.

"There was a cloaker last time I was here," I said, also feeling skeptical as I stared into the deeper part of the cave. "Hard to believe they put such light guard here."

"Unless they really did get complacent," Chromia said. "That was, what? Half a year ago?"

"A little more," I said, doing some quick math in my helm. Mainly with the dates, cause a lot of my recovery time felt like a blur. Time is weird soup as my would-be sister-in-law used to say. "Almost a year, actually."

"Damn," Sideswipe said. "And you're already in meetings."

My wings shifted slightly.

"Don't start, twins," Ironhide growled in warning.

"I didn't say anything," Sunstreaker said.

"I'm just saying, it took me a whole lot longer than a year to get invited to important meetings," Sideswipe said.

"You didn't have information on the future, though, did you?" Chromia asked as she moved toward the doorway that was situated in the language covered wall.

Sideswipe opened his mouth, but shut it as Ironhide glowered at him.

I shifted a wing again, having things I could say, but neither wanting to argue while out in the field nor ruin the chances we could become friends. Even if Sideswipe wasn't helping that right now himself.

"Hey Shadebreaker!" Chromia called.

I turned my attention away from scanning the darkness beyond where the Decepticons had lit up to and moved toward where Chromia was by the door.

"I can't find anything like what opened the one in Africa," Chromia said. She tapped the doorway and a shield wavered into existence. "But I think I know what stopped the 'Cons from getting in." She shook her hand as if shocked by static.

"Assuming they didn't get to tunnel in," Sunstreaker said from where he was now analyzing a hole. He knelt and reached through it, pulling his arm back out quickly. "Ah. That would be a no."

"Hm," I said. I reached out myself.

The shield made contact with me, but it didn't zap me nor did it create waves like Chromia's touch had. Curious, I pushed against it and my hand went through it.

"Optimus was right," Ironhide said. "You're the only one it'll let through, I reckon."

"It seems so," I said, backing up. I didn't like it.

Going into an unknown ancient structure alone? After everything that had happened? I would've done so gladly had I managed to make it in that day, but I had spent most of my time with the bots recovering and pouring over datapads. My combat training left a lot to be desired and after having real world experience in combat the idea I could face a battle on my own entirely made me nervous. My luck and strange skill to come out alive had to run out sometime.

"If it helps, we didn't encounter any troubles in ours," Ironhide said. "And, unless your father is dumber than we think, I doubt he'd have sent you here to known danger in that condition."

I gave Ironhide a dry look. "He dropped me in the middle of nowhere while I was only functioning thanks to my high levels of pain tolerance and pure stubbornness," I pointed out dryly. "I don't think he fully thought it through when he didn't just drop me right outside the Autobot Base."

"That's…a fair point," Ironhide said and then eyed the door skeptically himself now.

"Your father sounds like a fragger," Sunstreaker said as Sideswipe reached out toward the doorway.

I blinked as Sideswipe over pushed himself, clearly expecting resistance, only to fall through the doorway.

There was silence for a long moment.

"What the frag?" Sunstreaker asked.

"Well, at least I won't explore the mystery dungeon alone," I said, shrugging as I moved to join Sideswipe on the other side.

"We'll keep it clear out here," Chromia said.

"Or I could send you home and portal Sideswipe and I out without backtracking once we are done," I suggested, pausing for a moment.

"Nope," Chromia said, crossing her arms and leaning against the wall. "If the 'Cons figure out how to bypass that shield you will need us."

I shrugged. "Fair," I said. "And not wrong. We'll return after retrieving…whatever it is."

I stepped through the shield and looked down at the confused looking Sideswipe. He looked up at me.

"I didn't expect that to work," he said.

"Clearly," I said and offered him a hand up.

He took my hand and I helped him to his pedes.

"You think that means there's two whatever-they-ares here?" Sideswipe asked as we walked down the hallway.

"That would be my guess," I said, looking at the walls as we walked.

We walked in awkward silence for some time. At least, it felt awkward whenever I paid attention to Sideswipe's body language at all.

"I didn't ask to be involved in meetings, you know," I told him softly. "I'm sorry that it upsets you."

Sideswipe shrugged a bit. "I just don't get it, that's all," he said. "You didn't even have your badge until just nearly three weeks ago now, but the moment you do you get put in meetings."

I was silent for a long moment as we walked. "I'm not sure I get it either," I admitted. "I feel like I'm being treated as if I'm some important player in this war and I'm not. Just a femme who got kidnapped by a mad scientist, experimented on and happened to have a bunch of information in my helm. We don't even know if my relation to Vector Prime is genuine or not."

"Oh…oh!" Sideswipe said. "I didn't know that."

"That my relation to him is questionable?" I asked.

"No," Sideswipe shook his helm. "That he was who you were referring to when you and Ironhide were talking about your father. I thought he, like, kicked you out of your ship or something."

"Nope," I said. "First, he rescued me from Shockwave. Then he sent me through a portal to, well, here." I waved my hands toward the hallway, which felt like it was going on forever. "But, like I said, we don't know the details of the relation. Was it pre-existing? Did Shockwave do something that caused it? The world may never know."

Sideswipe hummed, but he seemed to have perked up, looking like he had gained an understanding. "Well, I'm sorry your father sucks and abandoned you."

I shrugged. "Eh, nothing new. The one who was supposed to raise me did the same, so I can't honestly say I'm surprised it happened again."

"Omph, O for two, huh?" Sideswipe winced sympathetically. "Sunny and I know a thing or two about abandonment as well."

"I'm sorry," I said genuinely. "It is a pain I wish none of us knew. But some of us know all too well, it seems."

"Yeah…" Sideswipe said.

As our conversation died out, we finally reached the end of the hallway. We entered a large room and I paused to take it in. There was a similar mural to the one found in Africa, except this one had more bots in the foreground. Simultaneously those bots were less detailed than the Optimus and Megatron look-alikes had been.

"Hey," Sideswipe said, moving closer to the mural. He pointed to a couple beside one with wings. "This one almost look like Chromia. And Ironhide. And…who's the winged bot?"

I moved up next to him and looked at it closely, squinting. "A Seeker, maybe?" I suggested. "About Starscream's height, compared to the others, if we assume they're the bots they look kinda like."

"The silhouette's off, though," Sideswipe said, doubtfully.

I traced it with a frown. It looked kinda how I had imagined my own self as a Cybertronian back before this all had transpired. When I had been but a human in another reality writing Transformers fanfiction. The height was off, though, and there was also the fact it had been merely theory and a silly little exercise.

"I hardly know all the Seekers in existence, do you?" I asked Sideswipe.

"Considering the majority of them are Decepticons? Nope," Sideswipe said. "You're the one with all the information."

"Not all the information in the multiverse, though," I said. "My information is still limited. Which is actually a good thing, considering Shockwave's foray into my mind."

"Fair," Sideswipe conceded. "You think Unicron was the only thing he withheld from Megatron?"

"It's hard to know," I said, shifting my wings. "It's also just hard to know how thoroughly he went through my mind. I don't know if I want to know, to be honest."

"I can understand that," Sideswipe said, looking sympathetic.

"Anyways," I said, wanting to move on. "Prowl said there was a rune that triggered another passage when Chromia touched it, so we should look for something like that. There might be two, one for each of us. Unless it's a linear path or they're stored in one place."

"Right," Sideswipe said.

We started searching the walls, going in separate directions and checking thoroughly for anything that reacted to touch. We were silent as we searched, but it was less awkward now, which I appreciated. I doubted the bit of conversation solved every issue that stood between us being friends, but it definitely made progress toward alleviating the tension between us. At least, I hoped it did. It seemed like it did.

"Found it!" Sideswipe called, even as a passage began opening where he was.

I glanced toward where he was to see the process at work and then back at the wall I was analyzing. After a bit more searching, I found a rune that responded to my own touch, opening another path.

"It seems we must split up, after all," I said, mildly annoyed.

"Comm. me if you run into trouble," Sideswipe said without hesitation.

"Same to you," I said, flexing a wing.

We turned from each other then, each heading down our respective hallways. I wasn't thrilled to be going alone, but at least there was a good chance of not running into trouble. Still, the silence of the hallway was more uncomfortable than the awkward one from before. At least I had known the cause of the awkward silence. This silence, the silence of the absence of any other lifeform in the immediate vicinity, was more disconcerting to me.

"I would've really much rather this be a linear trip," I muttered to myself.

This hallway, luckily, didn't feel like it went on forever, though it still felt quite long. The room I entered at the end of the hallway was only a little bigger than it needed to be to fit myself and the pillar holding the object I was looking for.

"Hm, I suppose that's about what I expected," I commented, eyeing the shard.

It looked much like the shard Prowl's team had returned with. The exact shape was different and it was a different color, but it was essentially the same. I reached out and grabbed hold of it, pulling it from the pillar. I looked at it, then around at the room surrounding it—at the strange absence of any more murals. Why had Chromia's had more depictions?

I considered the room for a moment longer before shrugging and turning to backtrack. I met up with Sideswipe back in the first room and we showed each other our shards. His was also a different color and a slightly different shape. Then we subspaced them and began making our way back to the others.

"We good to go?" I asked as we exited the doorway to find the three of them still waiting.

"Let's go, before the 'Cons figure out their guards here have gone silent," Ironhide said.

I opened a portal and we all hurried through it. I felt a surprising amount of relief to make it back home, sighing lightly as I closed the portal behind us.

I poked into the main room of medbay after the post-mission meeting where we debriefed Optimus and the others about how it had gone. We had also tested to see if anything happened when we put the shards near each other and, while the energy they emitted seemed to interact slightly, nothing seemed to take place.

"Ratchet?" I asked, looking around.

I saw Bulkhead, of course, still unconscious on the bed Ratchet had been working on. An IV ran into his arm to provide energon and probably meds and supplements as needed. I recognized another thing attached to him as a spark support device from my own recovery time—I hadn't needed it long, but there was a brief period during it where Ratchet had been concerned about my spark giving out.

Miko was present, sitting atop Bulkhead with her knees pulled to her chest. It reminded me of when Bulkhead had been hurt in the show. It was both spark breaking to see she was so upset, but at the same time a relief to know they were still forming a bond despite all the changes.

"Ratchet's not here at the moment," Miko said, voice small and sad as I approached.

"I see," I said softly. I looked at Bulkhead's face. It looked peaceful at least. "Did he tell you how he is?"

"He said he'll live and will recover physically," Miko said. "But until he wakes up, it's hard to know how he is. Mentally, I mean."

I nodded. "Such is the way it goes, unfortunately," I said sadly. "But I have been assured that he is not in as bad shape as I was when I arrived and Ratchet got me in pretty good shape." I reached out and gently touched Miko's back. "I'm sure Bulkhead will pull through as well."

Miko wiped at her eyes. "Yeah," she said. "Still hard to believe the Bulkhead I was talking to for months wasn't even Bulkhead. Those memories are fake."

"I'm sorry," I said gently. "I know it sucks. I wish we caught it sooner. But we're here now. And Bulkhead will get better. And you will make new, real memories with him this time."

"I will," Miko agreed. She was quiet for a long time.

"Do you need anything, Miko?" I asked softly. "Water? Food? A blanket?"

Miko sniffed. "Can you just…stay? I don't want to be alone," she said.

I rubbed her back gently with my finger. "I can do that," I said gently.

Eventually Miko did let me coax her away from Bulkhead so she could eat some dinner, but she refused to leave medbay, so I sat on the couch with her while she ate. I had my own dinner at the same time and we consumed our respective dinners slowly and afterwards she fell asleep leaning against my leg, listening to music play softly.

I rested my hand over her as if as a blanket and then sighed, closing my optics as I prepared to sleep right there with her. She had asked me to stay, so therefore I would stay. Unless I got called away, at least. I left the music on, afraid turning it off would wake her up and finding the presence of it soothing myself.

Chapter Text

Chapter 16: A Volcanic Encounter

Elita walked quietly into medbay, having been told she'd find the bot she was looking for here. She could've just commed her, but she didn't see a need when it wasn't urgent.

"Shade- oh!" Elita cut herself off upon seeing the femme still in recharge.

The purple and silver owl-bot was sprawled on her back across the larger of the two couches. One wing hung off the side of the couch, laying limply with feathers spread across the immediate floor. Her other wing, sticking out from against the back of the couch, was draped over her like a blanket. When Elita approached closer she saw that one of the human children she'd been told about was sleeping atop her, nestled underneath that wing and held gently in place by a hand.

"I would request you let them sleep unless it's urgent," Ratchet's voice interrupted her debate about whether to wake them.

Elita shook her helm as she turned toward the medic where he was entering the room. "I merely came to discuss a schedule with Shadebreaker about her Cy-Stan lessons."

"She'll appreciate that, I'm sure," Ratchet said as Elita moved to join him where he was working at the counter, a barely touched energon cube off to the side. "She's usually awake by now, but she was up late last night with Miko."

"The human child?" Elita asked, gazing at the green liquid Ratchet was analyzing.

"Bulkhead's ward," Ratchet clarified. "She refuses to leave my medbay until he wakes up. Shadebreaker offered to stay with her last night so she wouldn't be alone. They were both up periodically from nightmares or cause they were uncomfortable."

"Poor femmes," Elita said sympathetically.

"Indeed," Ratchet agreed.

Elita was silent for a moment, watching Ratchet. "What's that you're working on?"

"I've been working on completing the formula for synthetic energon Shadebreaker provided us with a partial formula for," Ratchet replied. "I could just wait to see if that data cylinder crops up, but there's no guarantee that it will. And, even if it does, there's no guarantee we will be the ones to acquire it or that the contents won't be lost."

"Hmm," Elita hummed thoughtfully. "How is it coming along?"

Ratchet backed up from the microscope, glancing at her. "Initial analysis of this batch looks promising. But it requires more testing."

"Well, keep up the good work Ratchet," Elita said. "We all appreciate it." She glanced over at Bulkhead, still unconscious. "Any idea when Bulkhead might wake up?"

Ratchet sighed. "It's hard to tell," he said, turning away from his work on the synthetic energon. "His frame still needs work, but it's hard to tell where his mind is. Processor scans show normal levels of activity, at least. He should wake up once his frame heals a bit more."

"And if not?" Elita asked.

Ratchet was silent for a moment. "Comas are not an exact science, unfortunately," he said quietly.

They were interrupted by the clatter of sudden movement from the couch and a shocked gasp from both bot and human. The two looked over to see Shadebreaker halfway sitting up, carefully shielding Miko from falling off her.

"I'm up! I'm up!" Miko said urgently, clearly woken from Shadebreaker's sudden movements.

"Sorry, Miko," Shadebreaker said, sounding a bit panicked herself. "Didn't mean to wake you."

Elita saw Miko frown up at her as she and Ratchet moved to approach them.

"Bad dream?" Miko asked softly.

Shadebreaker's wings shifted and she looked down a bit, embarrassed almost. "Yeah…"

Miko frowned and then moved forward to give the femme a hug as best she could. "You're safe here," she said. "Don't be afraid."

Shadebreaker gently hugged the child back. "Yeah…"

Ratchet placed a hand on Shadebreaker's shoulder as he approached. "Do you want to talk about it?" He asked gently.

Shadebreaker looked at him, then her gaze moved to Elita for a moment. Then she looked back down at Miko. "No," she said. "Not right now. Not this one."

Elita got the impression from the way her hand moved over Miko that it was to shield the human child from the knowledge of how dark her nightmare had been.

"Ok," Ratchet said, optics landing on Miko as the girl looked up at Shadebreaker with worry in her eyes.

"I can leave the room," Miko said quietly, seeming to understand Shadebreaker didn't want to burden her young mind with her inner demons. "You should talk to Ratchet. You woke up a lot last night."

"Not every time was my nightmares," Shadebreaker pointed out.

Miko pounded her chest with a fist and, even though Elita was sure it didn't hurt, Shadebreaker flinched. "Enough times were. Don't be stubborn."

"Can't help it," Shadebreaker said, smirking slightly. "Stubborn is my middle name."

Elita recognized it was a joke despite the lack of genuine humor either on the femme's face or in her tone.

"Bots have middle names?" Miko asked.

Shadebreaker raised an optic ridge. "I think you need more sleep if you don't realize the joke there," she said. "I have yet to meet a human who didn't know that one."

"I'm not that tired," Miko argued, but then yawned. She was clearly in need of more sleep.

"And I'm not plagued by nightmares." Shadebreaker returned. She shifted a wing. "If you sleep more, I will talk to Ratchet about my nightmare. Deal?"

Miko glared, crossing her arms. "Fine. Deal."

"You want to stay on the couch, or ask Ratchet if you can sleep by Bulkhead?" Shadebreaker asked gently.

Miko was silent for a moment, then she looked up at Ratchet hopefully.

Ratchet sighed. "Very well," he said. "You've already proven that you won't mess with the IV and such." He held out a hand. "I'll help you get situated, then I'll come back to talk to Shadebreaker."

"Thank you," Miko said quietly and Shadebreaker helped her transfer over to Ratchet's hand.

Shadebreaker watched them go for a minute before looking to Elita. She seemed to hesitate for a moment. "Um," she said, wings shifting uncertainly.

"I can come back if you don't want me present," Elita assured her. "I just came to discuss a time for your Cy-Stan lessons with you."

"Oh," Shadebreaker said, looking like her processor was taking a minute to process that and switch gears. "Are you on a time crunch? We could do that first, if you need."

Elita smiled softly, touched she was considering her even though she was clearly not fully awake yet and also still being affected by whatever nightmare had woken her. "I don't have anywhere I need to be until lunch today." She assured her.

Shadebreaker shifted her wings slightly. "If…if you don't mind stepping out while I talk to Ratchet, I would appreciate it," she said quietly. "While I… think I trust you, I still hardly know you as of yet…"

Elita bowed her helm graciously to that logic. "I understand," she said softly. "I'll check out the courtyard and you can come join me when you are done. Or you and Ratchet could talk out there in case Miko doesn't fall asleep and he can let me know when to join you."

"I think the second one is the better option," Shadebreaker said, glancing over to where Ratchet was tucking a blanket around Miko as the child asked him questions quietly. "She might take a bit to fall asleep. I had to sing her to sleep more than once last night."

"Oh?" Elita asked, intrigued. "Human lullabies?"

"The few I know," Shadebreaker said ruefully. "Coupled with some I made up entirely on the spot. I wasn't the only one who woke up from nightmares. She wasn't concerned about telling me them, though. I'm glad she seems to understand it's about age and not about whether sharing should happen that I am hesitant."

"That is good," Elita agreed.

Then Ratchet was back and, after they relayed the plan to him, he led Shadebreaker out to the courtyard, leaving Elita the lone wake bot in the main room of medbay. She had things to occupy herself with, however, such as working on developing a game plan for Shadebreaker's lessons.

She worked on the plans for about an hour before Ratchet returned from outside and informed her Shadebreaker was ready to talk to her.

"How is she?" Elita asked gently.

"A little raw emotionally," Ratchet said. "She'll probably try to act unbothered, though. Her nightmares are…rough on her."

"I understand," Elita said softly. "Advice? What does she need from me?"

"Patience, kindness," Ratchet sighed. "Compassion. All of which I know you will give her."

Elita nodded. "I can do that," she agreed.

Then she placed a hand on Ratchet's arm to show her support, seeing the mech looked tired and a bit worried himself. She knew there was a friendship bond between Ratchet and Shadebreaker that gave him insight into the femme's emotions. She also knew Arcee was convinced they liked each other as more than friends but were each avoiding those feelings for their own reasons. It must be hard on the medic to see Shadebreaker struggling so much, especially if Arcee was right, but even if not, Ratchet always hated when his fellow bots suffered.

Ratchet gave her a grateful pat on the hand before moving away, back toward his work on the synthetic energon.

Elita watched him for a moment, but then moved to head out to the courtyard. She spied Shadebreaker almost immediately, sitting on—not at, on—a bot-sized picnic table, pedes spread apart and elbows on her knees, fingers steepled together. She looked deep in thought, wings shifting periodically with her thoughts. An untouched cube of energon sat next to her. She looked up when Elita approached.

"How are you holding up?" Elita asked gently.

Shadebreaker shrugged lightly. "Better," she said quietly. "I'll get through it."

Elita sat on the bench on the same side of the table as Shadebreaker, facing the table and thus facing the opposite way as Shadebreaker. "Better is good," she said.

"Yeah," Shadebreaker said, looking off to the distance.

Elita considered her for a long moment. "Do you want to start out by talking about other things before getting into business?" She offered.

Shadebreaker tilted her helm to halfway glance at her for a moment before looking away again. "Nah," she said. "I'd rather focus on the lessons first. Then we can talk other stuff if there is time. That way we don't end up rushing through the scheduling and potentially overlapping something in one of our schedules."

Elita smiled softly as Shadebreaker shifted and moved to sit on the bench next to her. "That does sound wise," she agreed.

"I do try to do the wise thing," Shadebreaker said, halfway grinning. "I don't always succeed."

Elita chuckled at that. "I don't think anyone succeeds one hundred percent of the time."

"Even Optimus?" Shadebreaker asked, raising an optic ridge and looking amused.

"Even Optimus," Elita said, amused.

"Dang, there goes my totally unrealistic view of him," Shadebreaker said, very clearly joking.

Elita chuckled softly again and then she took out a datapad as Shadebreaker took out one of her own while simultaneously taking a sip of her energon. It seemed she had a habit of eating while working just like several of the officers.

"These are the coordinates?" Ironhide asked to confirm, looking around at the expanse of igneous rock that covered the landscape around them.

Bumblebee whirled in an affirmative and then continued, pointing at the flow marks in the rock that indicated what way the lava had flowed before it cooled.

"Yeah," Ironhide agreed, optics tracking the marks. "Let's go check it out."

The two mechs followed the flow of the cooled lava carefully. There were spots where the rock wasn't completely cooled, so they had to step carefully to not step into some patch of still too hot molten rock. Some of it was just squishy, but not too hot, but the majority was just fine for them to walk on as long as they were careful.

The sound of engines overhead is what warned them of the danger moments before a trio of fliers swooped down and fired rockets at them.

Ironhide shielded himself from the heat of the explosion from where a missile hit the ground next to him as he saw Bumblebee leap to the side to avoid one that nearly hit him square in the chest.

"Starscream," Ironhide growled as he pulled out one of his cannons.

Bumblebee whirled, deploying his wrist blasters and firing shots off at the seekers as they circled above.

"Get down here and fight like mechs, cowards!" Ironhide yelled.

He and Bumblebee shifted to stand back-to-back as the three Seekers rained down fire to keep them pinned. It was the Seeker Death Circle tactic. They would slowly decrease the circumference until the fire was shredding them to pieces. It was already tearing up the igneous rock around them, sending bits of it flying.

Starscream merely laughed at the idea. "Oh, but this is so effective, Autobot," he said.

Ironhide squinted at the two other Seekers to see if he could identify them. They didn't appear to be Starscream's trinemates, not at first glance anyways. One looked like the Seeker who had attacked their ship when they'd arrived on Earth, clearly having survived Wheeljack's landmine. The other might have been Slipstream, but he wasn't certain.

Bumblebee whirled a question as they shifted, trying to get a good shot on any of them, but they were flying too quickly.

"You sure, 'Bee?" Ironhide asked, glancing behind him.

Bumblebee glanced back and nodded with a determined look in his optics. He whirled again and Ironhide looked again at the Seeker that had attacked their ship.

That Seeker was moving just a touch slower than the other two. It was just noticeable, but it might be just enough to take advantage of.

"Ok," Ironhide said quietly. "We gotta be fast."

The two of them pressed against each other, continuing to fire up at the Seekers as the Decepticons slowly shrank the circle of fire around them. They watched closely and then when the time was right…

"Now!"

Bumblebee turned quickly and Ironhide gave him a boost to jump into the air, catapulting him into sky. Bumblebee grabbed onto the slower Seeker from below, taking a couple hits from the fire.

"Get off, bug!" The Seeker growled shaking as she tried to dislodge him.

Bumblebee held on, though and then slammed his fist straight through the armor plating on her underbelly. He pulled out a fist full of wires and then did the same on the other side.

That Seeker started spiraling toward the ground and Bumblebee road them closer to the ground before jumping down the rest of the way, landing in a roll to negate as much strain on his frame as possible. It still wasn't a pleasant landing, but he managed to avoid significant damage.

Starscream screeched as he and his remaining companion ceased their Death Circle—it was much less effective with only two Seekers. He transformed and fired off a rocket at Bumblebee's back.

"Watch out!" Ironhide called.

Bumblebee didn't even waste time to look to see what he meant, he merely leapt into a new roll to dodge.

The other Seeker swooped down on Ironhide, peppering him with fire and taking his attention. No matter, Bumblebee could handle himself against Starscream.

As the Seeker approached, clearly intending to get too close to miss, Ironhide put his canon away for a moment to reach out and catch them by the wings as she flew just overhead. He ignored the pain from the shots that scorched his armor on the approach and heaved, tossing the Seeker into a nearby rock wall. He quickly reproduced his canon and fired into the resulting dust cloud, hoping to finish the Seeker off quickly.

A moment passed as he watched closely. Then a missile emerged from the dust cloud, catching him on the shoulder. He grunted in pain, but was able to dig his pedes in to keep from stumbling. He fired again, but this time he knew he missed when the Seeker appeared from the dust cloud now in bot form, moving to the side quickly.

It was obvious Ironhide had done some damage himself, though. The Seeker's, who he could now confirm wasn't Slipstream, wing sat at an odd angle and there was damage to their left shoulder that left that arm dangling.

They traded several shots before Ironhide landed another hit, this one hitting her in the tank and knocking her off her pedes. He approached, standing over her with his canon pointing at her spark chamber.

"Surrender, Decepticon," Ironhide growled.

"Eat slag," the femme sneered up at him. She made to move, but he pressed the muzzle of his cannon against her chest, forcing her to stay down.

Ironhide glanced over to check on Bumblebee to see the mech was holding Starscream at gunpoint as the mech held his servos up, looking at where Ironhide held the femme Seeker at gunpoint, looking nervous.

"Easy, Autobot, n-no need to be hasty," Starscream said, making calming motions with his hands.

Ironhide and Bumblebee shared a look. Was Starscream…backing down? For…someone else?

Ironhide looked back down at the femme to find she was no longer looking at him, nor struggling. Her optics were covered by a red visor, but she looked like she had accepted her fate, whatever it was. He looked back at Starscream.

"S-surely we can come to some kind of agreement where you don't kill us," Starscream stuttered.

Ironhide considered the mech before them. He wasn't known for bargaining for anyone but himself or for holding to deals with anyone. Was this some kind of trick?

"What do we get for letting you go?" Ironhide asked.

"I know where the lava flow took the artifact that was at this location," Starscream replied, placing a hand over his spark. "I can lead you to it. If you release Lunarstrike back to me."

So Lunarstrike was the name of the unknown Seeker, huh?

Bumblebee whirled, demanding to know how they could know if they trust he wouldn't just backstab them.

"I-I know I haven't made good on things in the past," Starscream said, looking from side to side, wings making frantic movements. He looked at the injured femme Ironhide had pinned and Ironhide thought he saw some desperation on his face. "But I promise no tricks this time."

Ironhide considered him for a long moment, then looked down at the femme. She was frowning and he saw a tear track. He backed up, lifting the canon away from her chest and reaching out to lift the femme to her pedes.

"Very well," he said. "But she stays with us until we get to the artifact."

Starscream's wings made distressed motions, but he bowed his helm in acceptance.

Bumblebee whirled, indicating that he should lead the way.

Starscream looked at Lunarstrike one more time before turning and leading the way down the volcano. He was silent as he did so and they moved at a pace that wouldn't put too much strain on the injured Seeker as she was clearly having a little bit of difficulty.

Once they were at the artifact, Bumblebee approached the container and Starscream approached Ironhide carefully, clearly intending to take Lunarstrike. After a moment, Ironhide relinquished the femme over, albeit a bit reluctantly. The two Seekers stepped aside and spoke quietly and Ironhide was surprised that Starscream neither immediately called for a Bridge nor betrayed them.

Ironhide tilted his helm as the mech glanced back at him, seeming to consider something, then said something to Lunarstrike. She shook her helm, placing a hand on his arm, looking sad and regretful. Starscream's wings lowered at her answer. He glanced one more time at Ironhide before a Ground Bridge opened by them and then they walked through, the mech helping the femme.

Bumblebee whirled as he moved up next to Ironhide.

"I agree, Bumblebee," Ironhide said. "That was very strange."

Then Bumblebee whirled questioningly, holding up the container they suspected to contain Tox-En.

"Now, we confirm the contents," Ironhide said. "And, if it is what we think it is, we destroy it."

They opened the container to find something entirely different from what they expected. Instead of a green crystal oozing toxic fumes, inside was an item shaped similarly to Earth's oysters found in the ocean. It was purple in color and had a rigid texture to it.

Bumblebee whirled inquisitively.

"I dunno, but it ain't Tox-En," Ironhide said. "I'll call for pick-up."

"Does it look familiar to you, Shade'?" Ironhide asked as they congregated in the meeting room, waiting for Optimus.

"It does, kinda," Shadebreaker said, leaning over the table a bit to look at the artifact more closely. "It's not something I'm overly familiar with, however. Just briefly. Assuming it is what I think it is." She tilted her helm and then reached out and turned it to look at it from a different angle. It seemed to glow briefly at her touch, but stopped when she pulled her hand away.

"What do you think it is?" Elita asked.

"It looks like an item I saw an image of once labeled the Emberstone," Shadebreaker replied, standing up straight. She sat back down in her chair then. "I don't really know what the Emberstone is though. It was covered in a show I hadn't gotten around to watching yet. I was planning on doing so when I was so rudely snatched from my home reality. It had something to do with one of the Thirteen, though, I recall that from what little the brief splurt said."

"Did it say which one?" Jazz asked.

"Quintus?" Shadebreaker asked, sounding uncertain. "It started with a 'Q' anyway…"

"Quintus Prime," Elita said, voice in awe. "Not much is known about him. Much of the information about the Thirteen has been lost to time."

"I vaguely remember him being attributed for creating the Quintessons, who then tried to take credit for making Cybertronians in some realities," Shadebreaker said, tone dry and helm shaking. She clearly thought little of those claims.

Ironhide scoffed at that. "Quintesson propaganda they spread to justify their occupation of our world eons ago," he said, waving a hand.

"Sounds about right to me," Shadebreaker said dryly, leaning back and folding her hands across her chest. "That's all I really know about him myself."

Optimus came in then, before anyone could say or ask anything else. Prowl and Chromia entered with him. His optics landed on the maybe Emberstone.

"You have found the Emberstone," he said, voice in awe.

"So Shadebreaker was right," Jazz said.

Optimus gazed at the femme in question, then back at the Emberstone.

"I don't know what it does, though," she said, waving at it.

"It is said that Quintus Prime used it to seed life across the universe," Optimus said.

"So the idea that he made the Quintessons isn't that farfetched," Ironhide said, glancing at Shadebreaker, who merely shrugged.

Bumblebee whirled, expressing relief they got it and not the Decepticons.

"How did the trip to Texas go?" Shadebreaker asked, looking to Prowl.

"The Decepticons had already been to that location and acquired the Resonance Blaster, it appears," Prowl replied. "Based on the empty container they left behind."

"Looks like they stopped waiting to try to ambush us at every artifact," Chromia said dryly. "The shield generator location was empty as well."

Shadebreaker sighed, clearly frustrated by this.

"Minor inconveniences," Prowl said. "I am more concerned about the fact they still have possession of the Forge of Solus Prime."

"I would tend to agree," Ironhide said.

"Be that as it may, we are not currently equipped to raid the warship to retrieve it," Optimus said.

"So we just wait for an opportunity to present itself to taking it?" Shadebreaker asked, tilting her helm.

"For the time being," Optimus nodded.

After the missions were fully debriefed, the meeting was dismissed and everyone went their separate ways to their respective duties or such. Ironhide stopped by the main room in medbay to get his injuries seen to by Ratchet while Bumblebee left with Shadebreaker to do some combat training. The others all had more paperwork or liaison meetings to deal with. Ironhide himself had request forms to fill out about what all he would need to get his forge up and running once the building was complete after leaving medbay.

Chapter Text

Chapter 17: Uh-Oh

Time had a way of getting away from me, no matter what was going on in my life it seemed. A month had passed since we'd investigated the last of the locations I knew before I had even realized it. My days had fallen into such a rhythm of Cy-Stan lessons, battle practice, keeping Miko company and helping Ratchet in medbay to fill the rest of my time that I barely even noticed them passing. But at least I wasn't having that problem because I was laying around doing nothing again.

"Easy, Bulkhead," Ratchet said as he was helping the mech to his pedes. "You've been off your pedes for some time now, you're gonna have to take it slow."

"Ugh," Bulkhead complained and I shot him a sympathetic look over my shoulder from where I was organizing the cabinets for Ratchet. "I don't want to take it slow, Ratchet. I want to get back out there."

"I know, Bulkhead," Ratchet said, tone firm. "But if you want to get back out there, you have to take things slow. If you try to rush it, you will exacerbate your injuries. You know that."

"I can vouch for it, if it helps," I called over, lifting a hand to wave before returning to my task of organization. "When I was human and learning how to cope with my EDS when it started giving me joint problems, I accidentally over did it multiple times when trying to build supportive muscles and it would set me back by weeks. Listen to Ratchet and go easy on yourself. I know it's hard, but it's worth it."

"Ugh," Bulkhead complained, but didn't voice any more arguments as Ratchet helped him walk a few steps.

I returned to my organizing task, listening to the two mechs work through some physical therapy behind me. Bulkhead had gained consciousness several days ago, but it had been in and out for the first couple as his processor recovered from the torture the Decepticons had put him through. Whatever it was, I thought, must've been rough considering how long it had taken him to wake up after Ratchet had repaired the physical damage. I really felt for him, wishing I could take it away, but knowing if I tried to go back in time to change things I'd be risking everything all over again.

Part of me just wanted to do it sometimes, just as part of me wanted to go all the way back. Back to before the war, when Megatron was merely a revolutionary spreading ideas of a free Cybertron. Find some way to stop the war from happening to begin with.

But every time I thought about it, I also thought about the Lost Light comics. How their trip through time hadn't changed anything in their reality, but had created a new one—one where Cybertron just became even more dysfunctional. Optimus didn't even seem to exist in that reality, or had died by the time period the crew had ended up there, it was hard to tell. So, in the end, it didn't really do much besides create a new timeline wherein bots suffered and the main timeline remained the same.

And then, of course, were the thoughts of the stories where time travel to save someone like that led to unforeseen consequences that were very much undesirable. Dystopian futures and wastelands created due to something being introduced too early. One person is saved, but then everyone else ends up dying.

And with not having permission, there's a factor of what would happen between when I saved Bulkhead and came back, as it would clearly play out differently. I would have to come back around the same time I left to avoid a potential paradox. What if we went through with that meeting, but it was a trap, since the Decepticons didn't have their bargaining chip? Megatron could've easily just brought Ser-Ket and it would've gone much worse, probably.

There was just not enough information on my own powers to know how it would go if I disobeyed orders to go back in time to save Bulkhead before he went through the torture. Not to mention that, while I had combat training now and my experience thus far had shown myself capable, I could easily just end up being the one captured instead. And that also had potential to lead to a paradox or some other weird, unwanted consequences. Besides, he was here now. He was safe. And he would recover.

Having time-space portals sometimes felt like a heavier burden than necessary, I thought heavily as I slid a container of empty syringes into place in the drawer.

"Delivery!" Jazz's voice calling out broke me from my thoughts and I looked over to see where he was entering with Elita, both of them carrying boxes.

"What's this now?" Ratchet asked, glancing over his shoulder from where he was helping Bulkhead stretch his legs from a sitting position on his medical bed.

"We were able to convince the humans in charge of requisitions that blankets are not just luxury," Elita said, looking pleased. "Turns out, they just needed a little reminding about how important they are to them." She glanced my way and I realized she had employed the reasoning I had suggested to her one morning as we talked about it during my Cy-Stan lessons.

My wings perked and I couldn't help the grin that spread across my face. I was very pleased my reasonings had helped, even though I was sure it had to do with how she had presented said reasoning as well.

"We already dropped some off at the completed quarters for the bots who have them," Jazz said. "As well as the tent for those who remain there, but the rest we figured we'd bring here. We can shuffle them around as needed."

"Where would you like them?" Elita asked.

"There's a storage room down the hall," Ratchet said, motioning toward a door off the side of the main room. "Put them in there for now and Shade' and I will organize them soon."

Jazz grinned, looking over at me and the sparkle that flicked across visor was unneeded for me to read the tease that was all over his face. He had the grace not to say anything to me about how much time I spent in medbay while uninjured as nonmedical personnel in front of Ratchet, however. He left the room with Elita without another word.

"Did Shadebreaker start training to be your assistant or something, Ratch'?" Bulkhead asked, sounding a bit amused. "How come she's doing all your organizing?"

"She's doing it," Ratchet said and I heard some annoyance in his tone. "Out of the kindness of her spark, because she knows I'm a busy mech. That's all."

I raised an optic ridge at the tone of voice and shared a look with Bulkhead over the mech's shoulder. The medic kinda seemed annoyed. My wings shifted slightly and I turned my attention back to my task.

"No need to be touchy, Ratchet," Bulkhead said. "It was just a question."

"Hmph," Ratchet huffed.

I put the last of the items away for the cabinets I was at and then moved toward the doorway that led to the closet Ratchet had sent Jazz and Elita to with the boxes of blankets. "I'm going to see about that closet now," I told Ratchet as I passed them.

"Mhm," Ratchet hummed in acknowledgement.

I pointed lightly at Bulkhead. "Listen to Ratchet," I said, tone light.

"What are you? My carrier?" Bulkhead asked, teasing lightly.

"Someone's gotta be the mom friend," I said, halfway grinning as I put my hand on my hip.

Bulkhead chuckled and shook his helm at me.

I grinned, satisfied that my job of making him laugh was done and then moved on toward my destination again. I found Elita and Jazz along the way and waved to them, but then paused when Elita motioned for me to come over.

"What's up?" I asked as we met each other in the hallway. I waved to Jazz as he kept going.

"I just wanted to let you know I need to reschedule today's Cy-Stan lesson," Elita said regretfully. "I have to attend a meeting we weren't able to schedule around our usual time."

"Ah, no problem," I said, going over both our schedules in my helm. Mine was a lot more open than hers at the moment, since Optimus wanted me to get more battle practice in before letting me going into the field become a regular occurrence and not a no-one-else-is-here-to-respond-to-this thing or a we-need-a-flying-distraction thing and I hadn't joined the dealing-with-liaisons team yet. "We can just skip this one and meet on our next scheduled day if you like."

Elita smiled gently. "That's kind of you, but I should be able to do the lessons with you tonight, barring anything coming up."

My wings shifted slightly. "But aren't Tuesday nights your nights with Optimus?" I frowned. "I don't wish to take you from him. You're sparkmates. It's important you get time together."

"When neither of us are busy, you'd be right," Elita said softly. "But Optimus is going to be busy himself tonight, unfortunately."

"Aw," I said. "Very well. But if that changes, feel free to bow out and take time with him instead."

"You're very kind," Elita said, reaching out and touching my arm.

I looked down at her hand, then back up at her and smiled a bit shyly. "I just want you two to get your time together," I said softly. I ducked my helm, looking off to the side a bit. "I know how precious such time is."

Elita's thumb rubbed gently on my forearm and I felt her optics on me. "I heard you mention a fiancee to Ironhide," she said. "And I've since learned what that is. I'm sorry for your loss."

"Thank you," I said quietly. "I'll….hm." I wasn't sure what to say. The pain was an easier burden to bear than it had been, but I knew it was a burden I would always carry with me. Even if someday I found a mech, be it one I currently knew or not.

"You don't need to say anything," Elita assured me, likely seeing my struggle to find words. "I understand to a certain degree."

I managed a small smile for her. "Thank you," I said again. "Anyways, I should let you go. You probably have stuff to do…"

Elita smiled sadly. "Very well," she said gently. "Comm me if you need someone to talk to, ok? I'm always here to talk."

I smiled wryly at her, not sure if I truly believed that, but also not sure if my doubt had any credence to it. "I will remember your offer," I said.

Elita considered me for a long moment. "I mean it, Shadebreaker," she said, tone taking on a bit of an officer's commanding aspect. "I'd rather you talk to me than suffer in silence."

"I do have others I can talk to as well," I said, smile having fallen to a neutral expression. "But I will remember that you are in the number of bots willing to listen to my struggles. I cannot promise I will reach out, but I will remember and I will try to reach out to one of you. I'm….trying to move away from handling it on my own. It is not an easy habit to break."

"I understand," Elita said. She was silent for a long moment. "I must be going now. I'll see you tonight, Shade'."

"See you then, Elita," I replied with a bow of my helm.

We parted ways and I was left with my thoughts. I pulled a datapad from subspace and searched for some music to listen to while organizing the closet. I found an artist I was familiar with from when I was human, one I had listened to while going through some hard emotions before, and put it on once in the closet, setting the datapad down on an empty shelf just inside before turning my attention to the boxes within. There were the two boxes of blankets, as well as a few boxes of pillows—which had been waiting for organization for a while—and a few more boxes of towels. One of the boxes was open already with a towel spilling halfway out of it. Some shelves already had towels on them that had been used and laundered already.

I sighed at the amount of work and then set myself to it, deciding which item would go where as I went.

A signal interrupted the conversation Prowl was having with Ironhide about patrol schedules. The two mechs glanced over at the main computer, still situated in the tent that had been serving as a main center of operations thus far. They approached the computer and Prowl hit the buttons necessary to find out what was going out.

"A signal from a Cybertronian Data Cylinder," Prowl said.

"The one Shadebreaker told us about?" Ironhide asked.

"Possibly," Prowl said. "But also possibly not."

"I'll comm Shade' for transport," Ironhide said.

"Call the twins as well," Prowl said as he triangulated the coordinates. "And let Optimus know what's going on."

Ironhide nodded and sent a message to the mentioned bots.

It wasn't too much longer that the twins and Shadebreaker had joined them in the tent, all of them itching to do something. Shadebreaker normally would've been busy this time of day, but by the way she had appeared all but immediately told Ironhide that her normal lessons with Elita had been waylaid. The twins hadn't been far behind, being kept only because they didn't have portals to make transport instantaneous.

"Don't be abusing those portals of yours now," Ironhide said the moment the femme had stepped out of it.

"I won't," she assured him.

He merely gave her a firm look, not sure if he entirely believed her, as they waited for the twins.

"What's going on?" Sideswipe asked once they were all present.

"We've received a signal from a Cybertronian Data Cylinder," Prowl replied as he continued to triangulate its location.

"On Earth?" Sunstreaker asked.

"Is there any indication if it's the one I had information on?" Shadebreaker asked, wings and tone taking on an eager and curious quality.

The twins glanced at her in confusion, not having been privy to what all information she had shared.

"Unknown," Prowl replied as a beeping confirmed that he had found the source. "We'll know more once we retrieve it."

"Am I coming with? Or am I just transporting?" Shadebreaker asked.

"Just transporting for now," Prowl said. "However, stay on standby in the event we need backup."

Shadebreaker nodded.

It was moments later that she was opening a portal up for them to go through to the coordinates Prowl had pinpointed. They stepped out into what appeared to be a desert valley, flanked on either side by rock walls that towered over them.

"This kinda looks like the place Shade' described," Ironhide gruffed, stepping toward the device sticking halfway out of the ground, red light on top blinking.

"Indeed," Prowl agreed, optics and sensors all on high alert for signs of Decepticons.

"Well, we landed right on top of the doohickey, so we can just grab it and go, right?" Sideswipe asked, motioning toward the still open portal as Ironhide wrestled the cylinder from the ground.

A roar called their attention to the sky, where a Predacon was starting to appear over the edge of one of the walls of the valley.

"Slag," Sunstreaker said.

"Ironhide," Prowl said with urgency.

"It's stuck," Ironhide said.

.:Shadebreaker, we have a snag:. Prowl commed.

.:What kind?:.

.:Ser-ket.:.

.:Shall I distract?:.

.:Stay alive.:.

The channel closed and a moment later a purple and silver blur was shooting out of the portal and into the sky, cutting across where Ser-ket had been darting down toward them.

"You," Ser-ket's hate-filled word was heard clearly from the ground as she cut off her dive and looked after Shadebreaker as the femme swooped around to determine if she had grabbed the Predacon's attention.

"That femme," Ironhide said, clearly not approving of this tactic.

"She is merely answering my request," Prowl said, keeping his optics locked on the two beast formers as they flew around each other in the air. "This cylinder is important and she has proved she is capable of avoiding Ser-ket. She knows not to engage."

"She better," Sunstreaker said, his own optics tracking the owl's movements. The portal behind him closed as Shadebreaker's attention was taken up entirely by her efforts to stay alive and keep the Predacon distracted.

"Can you Autobots really afford to keep your optics skyward?" A voice called their attention away from the dance between the beast formers in the sky.

Prowl's attention moved from keeping an optic on the two in the sky to the source of the voice and he found Knock Out emerging from behind some boulders. Some Vehicons were dropping down from the wall behind him and Breakdown stood by his side.

"I would suggest you hand that cylinder over to us," Knock Out said, smirking as pointed his weapon at them.

"Not on your life, 'Con," Ironhide said, abandoning his attempts to unearth the cylinder for now and taking out his canons.

"I was hoping you'd say that," Knock Out said.

At that, a fight broke out over the cylinder. Shots were fired, but because of the nature of the terrain it quickly became a close-quarters brawl between the combatants. Prowl found himself facing the Decepticon medic while the twins dealt with the Vehicons and Ironhide faced Breakdown.

"Such delicate wings you got there, Prowl," Knock Out said tauntingly as he twirled his energon prod in one hand. "It'd be a shame if something were to happen to them."

Prowl didn't show any reaction, even as Knock Out charged forward. He blocked an attack toward his right and grabbed the length of the prod with one hand and extended his other to grab Knock Out's shoulder. He swept his pede out and took the mech's pede put from under him, tripping him up and prying the prod from him in the process.

Growling, Knock Out twisted his legs around to grapple Prowl's leg and then twisted, causing his knee to buckle and the mech to stumble forward. Knock out reached out to grab a hold of his prod again and yank it, pulling Prowl forward some more.

He made to kick Prowl in the rear, but Prowl had moved with the momentum, leaping into a twisting roll to free his leg as Knock Out moved his own to kick, separating the bots from their grappling contest.

Knock Out charged forward again, jamming the end of his prod toward Prowl's midsection. Prowl caught the prod with the crook of his thumb and redirected it away from himself, pede-work bringing him in close to deliver a solid punch to the tank of his opponent. He followed up immediately with a knee to the side and a headbutt that caused Knock Out to crumble to the ground.

"It would be wise to give up," Prowl told Knock Out, shifting his doorwings to get a rough idea on the situation around him. His sensors read only Breakdown was left of the other Decepticons.

"Frag you," Knock Out spat. He flung something at Prowl.

Prowl lifted his arms to shield himself only for a smoke grenade to be what burst against his armor. The sounds of transformation and a Ground Bridge were the most obvious indicators of the Decepticons' retreat.

"Well," Ironhide said as the smoke cleared. "They didn't take the cylinder."

"Indeed," Prowl said, taking in the fact that it was smoking from a hole that had been blown in it.

"Um, guys," Sideswipe said, voice sounding distressed. "That's not all."

Prowl looked at Sideswipe and saw he was pointing up. He followed the twin's line of sight to the sky and then his doorwings hitched.

Ser-ket was flying away.

With Shadebreaker in her talons.

"Slaggit all, I told you that tactic was gonna backfire eventually," Ironhide said.

Prowl's mouth formed a thin line. The two of them had disagreed on it a couple times before, it was true. Every time they had employed it. Which was, to be fair, only a couple times since the initial one. Only as many times as they encountered Ser-ket. The Predacon had an obsession with Shadebreaker, one they had used because the femme had proved adept at avoiding her thus far. It seemed that luck had run out.

"Slag," Sunstreaker said. "What do we do?"

"Unless one of you has randomly sprouted wings, there is nothing we can do," Prowl said.

Ironhide looked like he wanted to argue. He was angry, rightfully so. But there was nothing he could argue. Prowl was right. None of them could fly. Or open portals.

.:Prowl to Wheeljack:. Prowl commed the mech he knew would be working on the Ground Bridge. .:Tell me the Ground Bridge will work for a trip.:.

.:It might, hang tight:. Wheeljack replied. .:Why aren't you just calling Shade' for transport?:.

Prowl hesitated, looking at the agitated bots around him as Ironhide dug out the destroyed data cylinder in hopes something could still be retrieved from it. .:That would be a problem. Given what just transpired.:.

The other side was quiet for a moment. .:You better hope Ratchet accepts whatever explanation you got:. Wheeljack eventually said before a bridge finally opened up for them.

"Shadebreaker's been WHAT?!" Ratchet asked, leaning heavily on the table in front of him.

"We will get her back," Prowl said simply, watching the medic carefully.

Ratchet scoffed a bit. "How many have we lost to the Decepticons when they've been taken, Prowl?" He asked. "You don't know that."

"I know we will do everything in our power," Prowl said logically. "And I know she will do everything in hers. And we know her father rescued her once. It stands to reason that he should again."

"Sure," Ratchet said. "But he also has not spoken a word to her since. How do we even know he even knows she is in danger? She was a captive for years last time, Prowl. Who knows just how many?" He waved a hand helplessly.

Prowl shifted a wing. These were logical concerns, he knew. But they were also mired in emotion. "But she also has something she didn't have before."

"What's that?" Ratchet asked grouchily.

"Us," Prowl replied simply. "And her own portals."

Ratchet stared at Prowl for a long moment, considering this. "Lots of good having us did when you went and got her captured." He said snarkily.

"That is not fair," Prowl said, doorwings shifting. "It is not my fault. Distracting Ser-ket is her strategy."

"You are the senior officer," Ratchet countered. "You are quite capable of turning down reckless and dumb ideas! Slaggit, Prowl! You know how self-sacrificial Shadebreaker is! Yet you continue to allow her to put herself in harm's way against a Predacon you know none of us have a chance against!"

"That is precisely why I allow her to continue this tactic," Prowl said. "Until we find a way to deal with Ser-ket, distracting her is the only option we have."

"Retreat! You can retreat!" Ratchet argued.

"Shadebreaker has always avoided her in the encounters thus far," Prowl countered, not reacting to Ratchet's, admittedly justified, anger.

"Except she didn't this time!" Ratchet angrily pointed out, gesturing wildly with his hands. "And now she's at Megatron's mercy!"

Prowl couldn't argue with that one. "You are right," he admitted. "I, perhaps, grew too complacent in her ability to out fly Ser-ket in our previous encounters with her. Perhaps it was more luck than skill. I was under the impression whenever she said that it was a joke. She was so confident about it the first time and you know how she jokes."

"She jokes to hide her fear," Ratchet said, tone going softer. "To hide her pain."

Prowl bowed his helm a little. "I did not know that," he said. "I will not allow this tactic to continue in the future."

"If she is even here for you to tell her no," Ratchet said cynically.

"We will find her," Prowl repeated, feeling certain beyond reason that they would. He was not certain why he felt so certain, only that he was.

Ratchet only glowered at him, then turned away and moved toward the door leading back to the main room of medbay.

Prowl did not blame Ratchet for his cynicism. They had lost many throughout the war. Way, way more than they had ever saved. Normally Prowl would feel that same way. Some small whisper in his spark was pushing him toward optimism, however. Maybe, just maybe, Shadebreaker's attitude from when it was Bulkhead they were concerned about had bled in somehow.

Dismissing such thoughts as unimportant, Prowl left Ratchet's office himself and made for the medbay door. He had work to do. And none of it could wait.

"You serve me well, Ser-ket," Megatron said silkily as walked around their new prisoner at a leisurely pace. "Very well, indeed."

"I recaptured her for Shockwave," Ser-ket said testily. "When can my master expect to have her back?"

"Your master serves me, beast," Megatron reminded, keeping his hands clasped behind his back lest he lash out at one of his strongest assets, perhaps his only counter balance to Optimus's Star Saber. "You would do well to remember that."

"Of course, my lord," Ser-ket said, bowing.

"Shockwave will get his toy when I am done," Megatron said, stopping in front of the femme. He knelt and took hold of the femme's chin, forcing her to look up at him through the broken visor on her face. "You and I have a lot to talk about, don't we?"

Shadebreaker didn't reply, merely stared back in defiance.

Megatron laughed, shoving her face to the side and moving back. "Take her to the cells. And make sure the power dampeners are active."

"Yes sir."

Vehicons stepped forward to roughly grab the femme by the arms and drag her from the room with Ser-ket following behind.

Left behind, Megatron grinned to himself. Whatever information Shockwave had left out of his reports was soon going to be his. Along with whatever information the femme had gained since escaping the first time. And this time, Megatron would ensure the femme wouldn't be able to tell the Autobots anything she hadn't already told them.

"So the conversation with Shadebreaker had been a ploy just to confirm that she was who he was looking for?" Chromia asked as the normal bots all sat around the table.

"It would appear so," Optimus said heavily.

"Slaggit, I told her that tactic was gonna get her in trouble one of these days," Ironhide growled, slamming a fist on the table.

"I don't believe she doubted you, Ironhide," Optimus assured the mech.

"I don't think that makes me feel any better, Optimus," Ironhide said. "That makes it sound like she had a death wish."

"It's less a death wish," Ratchet said heavily. "And more that she doesn't care what happens to her as long as the rest of us come out ok."

"What's the difference? In the end?" Ironhide asked gruffly.

"The difference is that she was genuinely doing her best to stay alive, mech. She can't ensure our safety if she's dead and she understands that," Jazz said. "If she was gonna call it quits, I don't think she would've even survived Shockwave's experiments."

Optimus had to agree with that assessment of their newest member. Shadebreaker had enough resiliency to rival even that of Bumblebee's by all accounts.

"So what are we gonna do about the fact Megatron's got her?" Chromia asked.

The room was silent for a long moment.

"I think it is time we apply more heat to our captive," Prowl said seriously. "He knows something that can lead us to the warship."

"Assuming Shadebreaker's being kept there," Chromia said darkly.

"I will keep an optic out for her spark signature, in case it becomes trackable again," Ratchet said, though Optimus could sense he didn't have much hope for that tactic to work. "If she manages to escape on her own, who knows whether she'll be able to portal herself home or not."

"We should also keep our scanners peeled for her portal signature." Elita said softly. "In case her spark signature is too weak to detect, but she's able to portal out somewhere."

"Agreed," Optimus said heavily.

"This would be a great time to have the Blades of Time handy," Ironhide grouched.

"Wherever they disappeared to after their last use," Optimus said. "It is not helpful to us now."

"Just saying," Ironhide said. "If we could just tell Vector his daughter is in trouble, maybe he'd help her again."

Ratchet scoffed a little bit. "Like he 'helped' her when he dropped her in the middle of nowhere? When he didn't rescue her for years?"

"Was it years?" Jazz asked, tilting his helm.

"Do you think Shockwave changed a human into a Cybertronian overnight?" Ratchet asked testily.

"Probably not, but…what makes you so certain it was years?" Jazz asked.

"I'm her physician, Jazz," Ratchet replied. "I know how to read the Cybertronian frame like no other. We are lucky Megatron didn't get our prior location sooner."

Jazz made a conceding motion. "So this makes you believe he won't rescue her if he was made aware of her predicament now?"

Ratchet shrugged. "All I'm saying is that we shouldn't rely on an old mech who has poked into our affairs all of twice in over a millenia." He said. "That we don't even have a way to contact to begin with."

"I am inclined to agree with Ratchet," Chromia said, remembering Shadebreaker's own words on the matter. "It doesn't exactly seem like the two of them are on speaking terms. Vector might've rescued her out of some form of obligation or maybe the threat to time and space simply became too great."

"So he might not interfere this time either, unless something about her captivity threatens such again," Prowl surmised.

"We don't even know yet if Shadebreaker is his real daughter," Ratchet said, frustrated. "We don't know if he holds any real feelings of affection. Even if we could contact him, there's no guarantee he'd do anything."

"So we move forward as if Vector is a non-option," Prowl said.

"Very well," Optimus said. "Prowl, see to our prisoner. Use whatever you see necessary at your disposal. Ratchet, coordinate with Wheeljack to monitor for any sign of her spark or portal signatures, but don't let your work on Bulkhead's recovery suffer for it. The rest of us will scout in the field in shifts between our other duties."

There was a chorus of affirmatives from the gathered bots and then they dispersed. Optimus sighed heavily as he watched each depart, a heavy weight in his spark. He felt responsible. Despite regulating Shadebreaker to the sidelines pending further training he had allowed her to continue her distraction ploy against Ser-ket and now that had led to her capture. He had allowed it, because of the threat the Predacon posed and because of the femme's cooperation and display of skill in flight despite her inexperience. Because they had no other viable strategy against the beast.

He was angry at himself for allowing it.

A gentle hand on his brought him out of his thoughts and he looked over at his mate. Elita gazed up at him with sad, understanding optics. She could feel the self directed anger and the other feelings swirling in his spark that he kept hidden from his Autobots.

"We'll do everything we can," she assured him.

"Let us hope it is enough," Optimus said.

Chapter Text

Chapter 18: Interrogations and Insects

My optics tracked the Seeker as he perused the amalgamation of torture tools laid out on the table within the cell I was strung up in.

"Now, which tool will be most effective in dragging information out of you for Lord Megatron?" Starscream wondered, sounding rather chipper.

My optics shifted from the Seeker to the blue mech standing behind the table. Soundwave. The mech was silently watching, always watching whenever someone was interrogating me. Probably to record anything I might reveal.

"Ah yes, this one," Starscream said, plucking a tool from the table.

I shifted slightly as he turned toward me, not looking forward to what was coming.

"Ah, I see you are familiar," Starscream said, starting to circle me as my optics tracked him. "This will be a lot less unpleasant for you if you just tell me what you know."

"Heh," I said, lifting my pedes slightly against the weight of the chains wrapped around them. I let them drop. "Not likely."

Starscream sneered and then jabbed me in the side with the prod, sending a shock through my systems. I clenched my denta against the pain, wings reflexively contracting to press tightly against my back. It was a minute before my frame relaxed even after he pulled the prod away.

"If I were you, I would rethink that," Starscream warned icily, one of his claws running along my jawline.

I just glared at him and then shifted to bite at his digit as it lingered on my chin.

He squealed, pulling away just in time for me to miss his finger. He growled and jammed the prod back into my side at the same spot and I wasn't sure if the fact it hurt more was that he increased the setting or the repeated strike in the same spot.

Prowl frowned at their silent prisoner from the outside of the jail cell. Steadishift, as previously proven, was stubborn as always.

Steadishift laughed at Prowl's frown. "What's the matter, Autobot?" He spat the word like a curse. "Your code not allow you to pursue more effective means of extracting information?" His tone was mocking.

Prowl didn't react, merely waited. He had spent the last two hours asking questions and getting nowhere. Now that he had fallen silent Steadishift had finally spoken. Nothing important, but spoken.

Steadishift smirked. "I guarantee you Megatron isn't extending the same courtesy to whatever Autobot he's got in his grasp this time."

Prowl almost tilted a doorwing. The only thing that betrayed him was a tiny shift in his left doorwing.

Steadishift chuckled. "That's why you're here, isn't it? After you'd given up on me. Because one of your precious brethren has been captured again. Well I'm not giving you squat. Can't say the same for your compatriot. You see, the Decepticons are quite the interrogators. And Barricade has no problem causing pain to squeeze out every ounce of information from his subjects."

Prowl remained silent. Steadishift was unusually talkative. Eventually he would give something useful. And Prowl was a patient mech. Sometimes waiting patiently was the best tool in an interrogator's toolset.

Steadishift's amusement turned into a frown. "Aren't you going to ask anything? You realize you are running out of time."

"Am I?" Prowl asked. "Or are you?"

Steadishift raised an optic ridge. Or what Prowl thought was an optic ridge.

"I know how you shifters function," Prowl said. "You can only go so long without changing shape. Makeshift could only go a couple days. How long can you go before you perish, I wonder? It has already been a little over a month and a half since we have locked you up and you have yet to change shape. I have no problem leaving that cuff on you to prevent you from doing so until you perish if you do not provide us with any useful intel."

Steadishift looked suddenly nervous. "You wouldn't," he said. "It's against the Autobot Code."

"Is it?" Prowl asked, raising an optic ridge. He glanced around at the otherwise empty room. "I don't seem to recall."

"You're bluffing," Steadishift said.

"Am I?" Prowl asked.

Steadishift eyed him warily, clearly uncertain.

Prowl wasn't about to let him know one way or the other. Let him think he was in danger of offlining. Let him believe the Autobots were capable of such cruelty. Prowl would take every guard shift if that's what it took to push this tactic until he broke. Carefully, of course. 

Starscream growled, grabbing me by the chassis and I hissed in pain. He was about to speak when the door opening interrupted him. He shifted and I saw a familiar black and purple mech walking in. The one Ratchet had faced in Manhattan. The one I had gone feral on by Ratchet's description.

"What is it, Barricade?" Starscream asked in irritation.

"Megatron wants you on the bridge," Barricade replied, walking up. He snatched the tool Starscream had in his servos from him. "Which means it's my turn with the prisoner."

Starscream growled. He shoved me, causing the chains I was hanging from to clang loudly. "Try not to offline her, will you? She's useless to us dead."

Barricade smirked as Starscream walked away, optics glinting dangerously. "I won't kill her," he said. "I do owe her for mangling my arm, however."

Over Barricade's shoulder I thought I caught a glimpse of sympathy on Starscream's faceplates just before he disappeared. Given how harsh he was, I was pretty sure that spoke volumes to what I was in for from Barricade.

Barricade paced around me, much like Starscream had done multiple times during the course of our session. He tapped the tool in his palm.

"Starscream is quite fond of the prod, isn't he? I see it's all he's used so far, am I right?" Barricade asked.

I didn't reply, but Soundwave nodded when Barricade glanced at him.

Barricade tossed it over his shoulder. "Foolish to stick to one tactic for so long, wouldn't you say? It's clearly not loosening your glossa," he said. He reached out and stroked the edge of my left wing with the back of his fingers. "There are much more painful ways to torture. I've not worked with these kind of wings before. But I can find how sensitive they are easily enough."

His fingers wrapped around a feather and unceremoniously ripped it off, splattering energon from the disconnect, causing me to hiss in pain I wasn't quite prepared for. I hadn't had a feather ripped out since that day Arcee had found me, when that cloaker had ripped one out and I had promptly used it as a makeshift sword and stabbed them in the spark.

Barricade smirked. "I wonder how many I can pluck out before you can no longer feel," he said conversationally. He ripped another out, spilling more energon. "It must hurt. Wings are always the most sensitive." He ripped a third one and I bit back a scream.

My frame was shaking with the effort of holding myself up with the chains. The pressure on my shoulder joints was painful. The lingering pain from the energon prod was a lot. Now the pain from the feathers being ripped out, the energon loss. It was a lot.

"There is a way to get this to stop," Barricade said. A fourth and I flinched, grinding my denta to keep a scream from escaping, pulling hard against my bindings in a vain attempt to cope. "Just tell us what Megatron wants to know. Tell us what the future holds. Tell us about Unicron. Tell us Autobot secrets. Tell us something we can use to destroy Optimus."

"Never," I said forcefully, angrily.

Barricade smirked, a glint in his optics. He glanced at Soundwave. "I do love it when they resist," he said. He reached up to the base of my right wing, grabbing a hold of two feathers at once and yanking them forcefully.

The scream I let out was not loud by overall standards, but given most of the time high emotions made me shut up, it was rather impressive.

"Come on, Bulkhead! Hup to it! March!" Miko drilled.

"Ugh," Bulkhead sighed as he dragged his pedes across the medbay floor. He may have complained about taking it slow at first, but Miko's workout regimen was borderline pushing it. His frame hurt. "Miko, I need to rest." He sat down.

"The 'Cons aren't gonna let you rest, Bulk'!" Miko argued, stomping her foot. "You think they're letting her rest?!"

"Ugh," Bulkhead replied, shifting as he flinched at her words. He knew she was speaking from a place of worry and stress, but it still stung.

"Bup up up," Ratchet said, walking over. "If Bulkhead's frame is telling him he needs rest, he needs to rest, Miko. If you push a patient too far, you will set them back."

"If you take it too slow he won't get back out there!" Miko argued, crossing her arms.

"Miko," Bulkhead said as Ratchet helped him back to his pedes. "Ratchet knows what he's talking about. He got Shadebreaker on her pedes, didn't he?"

Miko looked up at him, heartbreak in her eyes and he felt Ratchet stiffen.

"Sorry," Bulkhead said, suddenly realizing that was the wrong thing to say. He rubbed his helm. The both of them had been touchy about the subject of Shadebreaker the past several days since the femme's capture. "I'm sure we'll get her back. Like you did me."

Medbay fell silent as Ratchet helped Bulkhead back to his bed for rest and Bulkhead sighed heavily. He hated not being in the field even more ever since learning of the femme's capture. She'd put herself at risk to get him back and in return the Decepticons had clearly pushed harder to retrieve her. He should be out there looking for her with the others.

"I'm sorry, Ratchet," Bulkhead said heavily as the medic ran some scans.

"For what?" Ratchet asked.

"It's my fault Shade' got captured, isn't it?" Bulkhead asked. "She put herself at risk, she confirmed she knows things in order to rescue me."

"Tsk," Ratchet scoffed. "It's not your fault." He admonished, waving the scanner at Bulkhead. "And if you don't want a lecture on why, I suggest not even suggesting that it is again. Shadebreaker made her choices and the Decepticons would've gone after her on their own eventually. Megatron already suspected her of knowing things because of Shockwave. And that was something none of us could do anything to prevent. Primus knows what all he knows about her from that-that…"

"Monster?" Bulkhead finished for the medic.

"...yeah," Ratchet agreed with a heavy sigh.

"I hate this," Sideswipe complained as he drove down the interstate, his brother trailing behind him.

"You've said that already," Sunstreaker said long-sufferingly.

"Well I do!" Sideswipe said with an angry rev of his engine. "The 'Cons have Shade' and all we can do is wander around and hope they show up?! It's a bunch of slag!"

Sunstreaker sighed heavily as his brother went on about what they were probably doing to the poor femme. "Shadebreaker's resilient," he reminded his brother when he had a chance to get a word in edgewise. "And stubborn. She won't tell them anything and she will hold out for us."

Sideswipe gave another angry rev. "It's still not fair," he said. "She's not even been that big of a pain to the 'Cons to be such a target!"

"She knows things," Sunstreaker said, remembering Chromia's words in that cave. "And she's related to one of the Thirteen. Not to mention her portals. Those things combined-"

"I get it! Doesn't mean I can't be mad about it!" Sideswipe growled.

Sunstreaker inwardly smirked. His brother had been jealous about Shadebreaker's quick inclusion in meetings, but after delving into that structure with her, he had come out with a different viewpoint. His brother didn't exactly have feelings of kinship with her, but Sunstreaker knew if he spent time with the femme the two would become fast friends if Shadebreaker could move past their actions from when they'd believed her to be a traitor. And evidence suggested that she would.

If whatever the Decepticons were doing to her didn't cause her to shut herself off from friendship completely like what happened to Prowl.

Sunstreaker let out a growl himself at the thought. He may not view the femme with warm fuzzy feelings himself, but she was still a fellow bot and obviously a dedicated one. And one who had gained his respect. To a degree. He did not like to think about what the Decepticons were doing to her anymore than Sideswipe did.

"Something's coming up on my radar," Sideswipe said suddenly.

"Decepticon?" Sunstreaker asked.

"Yes," Sideswipe replied.

"Let's check it out," Sunstreaker said.

After waiting a minute for the few cars around them to disappear around a curve, they pulled off the road, driving into the dense trees on the side. They transformed only once they were well enough away from the road and crouched low to maintain stealth. They moved as quickly and as silently as they could, but they couldn't avoid the snaps and cracks of branches and twigs as they moved through the dense trees.

They searched for some time before they found evidence of what had appeared on their sensors.

Sunstreaker knelt down and examined the liquid on the forest floor. "Life-en," he said.

"A trail," Sideswipe said, pushing back some bushes to reveal more splotches.

They shared a look and then pulled their blasters of choice from subspace. Sunstreaker sent a quick message to base to update about the situation so they could be on standby in case they would need reinforcements.

They followed the trail carefully, optics and sensors on high alert. Every noise called their attention in case it was the source of the Decepticon signal they had picked up. Or, by some chance, an Autobot that had escaped. It was hard to know, after all, the source of the spilled life-en.

"Sunny," Sideswipe said quietly as he came to a stop. He held a hand to stop the yellow twin.

"Oh slag," Sunstreaker cursed upon seeing what his brother did.

Sitting in front of them, having crashed through the trees, was a ship of significant size. A ship of Decepticon origin. It was clearly non-operational now, but it was concerning how large it was.

"How many 'Cons you think it holds?" Sideswipe asked quietly.

Sunstreaker was about to answer when something prickled on the edge of his perception. He paused and then whirled, firing his weapon into the trees behind and above them.

A hissing and scuttle was the confirmation that he aimed at someone.

"We're not alone," Sunstreaker said lowly.

"Comms are jammed," Sideswipe reported, having tried to contact base as soon as his brother had whirled to shoot at something.

Sunstreaker growled, optics searching the trees as a feminine laugh echoed out from them.

"My, my," a voice echoed through the trees. "What interesting prey has stumbled upon my nest."

"Show yourself, 'Con!" Sunstreaker called.

They laughed again. "Why should I spoil the fun?"

A scuttling sound said they were moving and then a thwoop was all the warning before something flew out and hit Sideswipe's hand that was holding his weapon. A web encased Sideswipe's hand, preventing him from being able to pull the trigger.

Sunstreaker fired in the direction the web had been shot from immediately as Sideswipe began trying to tear at the webbing.

A cry of frustration said that he must've clipped their assailant, but not got them directly, and a quick scuttling indicated they were repositioning.

"Frag it," Sideswipe said, struggling with the webbing.

"Just leave it, you still have one hand," Sunstreaker advised, shifting. "We need to keep our focus on the enemy."

"Right," Sideswipe said, taking a different weapon out.

They moved from their position then, following the scuttling sounds, listening.

"Interesting things are being talked about across the comm chatter," the voice said and the mechs turned, trying to pinpoint where it was coming from. "About a femme who knows the future."

The twins didn't react. They weren't about to confirm anything of the sort to a Decepticon. They kept their weapons up, optics scanning the trees and ground for any sign of the Decepticon, or potential other enemies.

"Aww, not so talkative?" The voice crooned, making Sunstreaker snarl in disgust. "That's ok. I have ways to make bots talk."

A hissing and branches cracking alerted them just in time for them to dive out of the way before a large spider-bot came falling out of the trees on top of them.

"Slag that's ugly," Sideswipe said, finally managing to get the webbing off his hand as some of it had been caught by the tip of the spider-bot's leg.

"I'll have you know I was the most beautiful in my hive," the spider-bot said, making a bow.

"The bar must've been in the pit, then," Sideswipe said, making a face.

The spider-bot hissed and lunged at him, but Sunstreaker grabbed hold of two of her legs.

"Now brother," Sunstreaker said as he grunted with the effort of holding her back. "It's not fair to pick on our lessers like that. Not everyone can be blessed with such glorious bodies such as ours."

The spider-bot hissed again and made to spin around to attack Sunstreaker, but the yellow twin heaved, pulling her off balance and then throwing her. She broke through several trees and came to a stop against an especially large one, making a large dent in it.

She got up and started to scuttle back toward them, but stopped as they fired at her. A shot hit her shoulder and she hissed. Then she suddenly jumped and started spinning and burrowed underground.

"Should we chase her?" Sideswipe asked as they gazed down the hole.

Sunstreaker considered for a moment and then looked toward the crashed ship. "No," he said. "We don't know if she has backup. We should report back to Optimus about this. He'll want to know."

Sideswipe nodded in understanding.

The twins made their way carefully through the forest, heading away from the ship, trying their comms every five minutes. They kept their optics and sensors alert for the spider-bot, but she didn't make another appearance. They doubted it would be the last they would see of her, however.

"Airachnid," Aree said with venom in her voice when she heard the twins' report of what they found.

The twins shared a look.

"You are familiar with this Decepticon, Arcee?" Jazz asked.

"She's the 'Con who killed Tailgate," Arcee said, fury in both her voice and optics. "She's a sick and twisted arachnid-bot who makes a hobby out of collecting endangered species. Doesn't matter if they were endangered before or after encountering her."

"Typical type for Megatron to recruit," Sunstreaker said dryly. "That ship of hers looks large enough to support a small army."

Arcee snorted. "Unlikely," she said. "The Airachnid I last encountered split off from the 'Cons and worked alone. Of course, things could've changed again. If-" She cut herself off from saying it, but everyone knew what she was about to say.

Shadebreaker might know more.

"Something on that ship might help us find her," Sideswipe finally said what he'd been think since laying optics on it. "She mentioned picking up Decepticon chatter about a femme who knew the future. What if…what if we could use the comms system to tap into that chatter?"

"Assuming Airachnid didn't decide to call in the calvary after you discovered her?" Arcee asked. "Or finding out the 'Cons have this future telling femme and wanting to see for herself?"

The present Autobots were quiet for a long moment.

"I believe," Optimus spoke up for the first time. "It is worth a try. Arcee, you are most familiar with Airachnid. I expect you to keep a level helm despite your history with the Decepticon femme."

Arcee bowed her helm slightly, but kept her mouth shut. She knew she couldn't promise anything, so she didn't.

"Sunstreaker, Sideswipe, you will be our guides in," Optimus turned to the twins next and waited for them to each nod in agreement. "And Jazz, I expect you will handle our hacking needs."

"You got it Prime," Jazz said.

"Autobots, roll out!" Optimus said.

Every muscle cord in Arcee's frame was tense, coiled and ready to spring into action. Airachnid. Her arch nemesis. Tailgate's murderer. Decepti-creep extraordinaire—that one was Cliffjumper's name for her. Here. On Earth.

And if that wasn't enough, they might find a lead to saving Shadebreaker on her ship. The anticipation mixed with fear and rage was enough to make Arcee's life-en boil.

"How far to the ship?" Optimus asked of the twins quietly.

"Not far now," Sunstreaker replied, optics darting around the trees.

A scuttling alerted them to the presence of Airachnid and Arcee reacted quickly, pointing her weapons in that direction. Only nothing was there by the time she was facing it.

"Stay alert," Optimus said. "Airachnid may very well have called for backup."

They moved carefully through the trees, each facing a different direction to cover all vantage points. They heard Airachnid scuttling about occasionally, but the Insecticon didn't fire upon them or approach. It wasn't until they were nearly within sight of her ship that anything happened.

Airachnid scuttled out into Arcee's view, looking her directly in the optics and smirking. Smirking. She gave a little wave and then scuttled away.

Arcee growled. "Airachnid!" She took off after her.

"Arcee! Wait!" Optimus called.

Arcee ignored him in favor of chasing after the spider-bot. She leapt over fallen logs and dodged around trees and bushes in an effort to keep up with the fleeing spider-bot. She fired the occasional shot, trying to slow the Decepticon femme down. If she could take down this dangerous menace, maybe Airachnid could share what she'd heard directly.

"Arcee!" Optimus's voice wasn't far behind, but because of his frame he was having a hard time catching up himself.

Arcee growled, pushing herself harder. She had to catch Airachnid.

"ARCEE STOP!" Optimus ordered, voice booming.

Arcee froze suddenly, optics wide. But she'd stopped too late. Her pede tip caught on a string of web stretched across the ground and the momentum from her enraged run carried her frame forward, careening over an edge. Directly into a web strown out across a ditch.

She would never admit to the scream that escaped her throat as she fell into the web, struggling.

Airachnid's gleeful laughed filled the ditch as she scuttled across the web. "Oh, Arcee," she said. "What a pleasant surprise!" She skittered around her lightly, legs adjusting the web to hold her more firmly. "Now, now. Don't struggle. You sit tight here while I go take care of your friends."

"You leave them out of this!" Arcee spat with venom. "Your fight is with me!"

Airachnid chuckled. "Oh don't worry, dear Arcee," she said, running her long fingers along her jaw. "I'll be back for you."

Airachnid scuttled out of the ditch then and Arcee heard her head in the direction of Optimus.

"Great, Arcee, good job," she grumbled to herself. "You compromised the mission."

Sideswipe shuddered as he looked around the ship. "Primus, Arcee wasn't joking," he said. "This femme's sick." He flinched at the disembodied head of something floating in some kind of liquid ooze.

Jazz frowned, optics landing on what appeared to be some form of mechanical lifeform not unlike Cybertronians. Offline. Hung on the wall like a trophy.

"Yeah, she's fragged up alright," he agreed. "Let's find the comms and get out of here."

Sideswipe agreed and they moved on through the ship, alert for any signs of trouble. They still didn't know for sure if Airachnid was alone. They stepped carefully over webbing that stretched across the floor, unsure if it was a trap or a warning system.

They stopped as the doorway to the bridge was suddenly blocked by a large mech dropping from the ceiling, filling the entire space. Insectoid legs wrapped around his midsection and hung over his shoulders and a scorpion-like tail protruded out behind him.

"Hello, Autobots," he said, smirking at the way they took a step back in defensive positions. "Come to join the party?" He motioned at the dismembered creatures lining the walls of the ship.

"So much for Airachnid working alone," Jazz said, aiming his blasters.

The mech laughed, the sound sending chills down Jazz's spinal strut as it reminded him of his time spent in the Sea of Rust looking for Grimlock and his team just before leaving Cybertron.

"You know my partner? Allow me to introduce myself, then," the mech said and gave a mocking bow. "The name's Scorponok."

Instead of coming out of the bow, the mech transformed into a beast of a scorpion. Jazz and Sideswipe fired on him, but he skittered easily out of the way of their shots, crawling along the walls. He hissed and jumped on Jazz, pinning him to the ground and trying to impale his helm with his giant stinger.

Jazz tilted his helm to either side to avoid, even as he struggled to knock the mech off of him.

A well aimed shot the scorpio-bot's shoulder knocked him off balance enough Jazz was able to escape.

Scorponok hissed and skittered across the floor to the walls again, darting quickly along them to avoid each shot. As he came back around to the doorway leading to the buried bridge, one of Sideswipe's shots caught him in the back leg and he hissed, falling from the wall.

"Keep on him," Jazz said, firing a shot into the joint of a front leg.

Scorponok hissed again and then skittered quickly through the doorway, a blast door closing behind him.

The two Autobots moved to flank the door on either side and shared a look. They could press on or they could wait for backup. Optimus and Sunstreaker had gone after Arcee after she had gone after Airachnid. It was clear the goal had been to separate them. And they already knew the ship was jamming comms.

After silently confirming with Sideswipe that they were thinking the same thing, Jazz reached for the control panel. Only for it to beep a denial, reading "LOCKED" in large, Kaonic lettering.

"We'll see about that," Jazz said, subspacing his weapon, intending to start hacking into the controls.

"Uh, Jazz," Sideswipe said uncertainly. "What's that noise?"

Jazz paused to listen closely, trying to hear what Sideswipe was hearing. After a moment he did and a sense of dread came over him. A low whirring sound and skittering of a thousand tiny servos.

"Oh slag," Jazz said, crouching low as he recalled his time sneaking through Shockwave's lab. He and Cliffjumper had barely made it out alive. "Sideswipe, we gotta go. Now!"

Sideswipe didn't take time to argue. He had never seen Jazz scared. Not since the Dark-En infused super soldiers had torn through their fellow Autobots at the Battle of Iacon.

The two Autobots made their way quickly back toward the rear of the ship, even as Insecticons started crawling out from the rooms on the sides.

"Ewww, where were these things when we entered?!" Sideswipe asked, shooting rapidly to take several out. Green splattered whenever one was shot, but for each one they shot on their way out it seemed like ten more were crawling out.

"Don't know, don't care!" Jazz said, blasting any that got in their way, batting away a couple that dared to jump at him. "Just go!"

Jazz almost transformed to speed up his escape. The only thing that stopped him was the webbing they had needed to step over before getting this deep. There was no way they would be able to just drive through it. It would certainly slow their escape.

"How do we deal with the webbing?" Sideswipe asked as it came into view.

Jazz took out his grappling hook and then reached a hand out for Sideswipe. The red mech took it without hesitation and Jazz aimed at the ceiling of the cargo bay as they grew closer. He fired, not ceasing his advance even as Sideswipe fired at an Insecticon that had latched onto his pede.

The grapple latched onto a beam and pulled taunt as Jazz retracted the rope. He kept retracting, pulling the two mechs into the air, helping Sideswipe in closer to his frame, holding him by the waste now as the mech clung onto him.

"Gah!" Jazz cried as an Insecticon landed on his extended shoulder and dug its pincers into the joint in an attempt to severe it.

"Off you go," Sideswipe growled, firing his weapon point blank into the bug's helm.

Jazz felt the heat of the shot and the energon splatter across his face and torso, getting his arm as well, but he ignored it as they swung over the intricately laid webbing beneath them.

"Get ready to jump!" Jazz said. "3…2…1!"

He told his hook to release and the momentum carried them the rest of the way. They landed with a loud CLANG and Sideswipe let him go to hit the ground running once more.

As soon as they were outside, Sideswipe transformed, driving away from the ship, toward where they'd last seen Optimus and the others. Jazz glanced around and saw an energon leaking from the engine.

"Sorry, Shade', we'll find another way to locate you, I promise," he said, lining up a shot as the sound of the swarm of Insecticons behind them got louder. He fired.

Before the shot even made contact, Jazz was transforming and following after Sideswipe.

Optimus watched Arcee fall into the ditch with a sense of dread, seeing another form dip into it from the other side. He continued to push through the trees, Sunstreaker slightly ahead of him thanks to his smaller size, but also not fast enough to stop Arcee's descent into the trap he had seen laid out before her.

"Slaggit," Sunstreaker cursed as he shoved a thick branch out of his way, snapping it so it wouldn't hinder Optimus when he passed. "Damn trees."

Airachnid emerged from the ditch and Optimus narrowed his optics, trying to discern Arcee's fate. But there was no life-en sullying Airachnid's frame. She looked smug and victorious, but it was unclear whether that was because she offlined Arcee or merely trapped her.

Sunstreaker growled as the spider-bot languidly moved toward them, taking a somewhat sideways route, laughing all the while.

"You look like you're having trouble moving in this forest, Prime," Airachnid said, voice dripping with mockery. "You really think you can save Arcee in these conditions?" She climbed a tree sideways and then disappeared into the leaves.

Optimus paused his movements, Ion Blasters at the ready as Sunstreaker moved to stand at his back, his own weapons pulled and ready. His optics roamed the trees, seeking out their opponent.

"Airachnid," he called out, voice booming. "You are outnumbered. You cannot win. Surrender and we will treat you gently."

Airachnid laughed. "Surrender?" She said, voice echoing a little bit against the trees. "You think I'm the one outnumbered? How quaint. Once my friends deal with your companions at the ship they'll be here very soon. And then we'll see who's outnumbered."

Optimus glanced back and shared a look with Sunstreaker. Clearly Airachnid was no longer working alone, or she had called for backup. They had to finish this, help Arcee and return to Jazz and Sideswipe quickly.

Movement had Optimus pointing his Ion Blasters toward the sound, but Airachnid had already moved before he could get a bead. He paused, listening, waiting, feeling with both his sensors and the Matrix. More sounds, fire as Sunstreaker tried to get a shot off at her then…

"Gahh!" Airachnid cried out as Optimus fired upward as she passed overhead and she came crashing down, the two mechs parting to avoid her frame.

"I will ask one more time, Airachnid," Optimus said, warning in his tone as he and Sunstreaker pointed their weapons at the Decepticon femme. "Surrender."

Airachnid hissed at him and her legs moved. Just as Sunstreaker was squeezing the trigger on his weapon, she was suddenly burrowing into the ground. Sunstreaker's shot caught one of her legs, dismembering it at the joint.

The two Autobots looked down the hole for a moment.

"Do you want me to pursue?" Sunstreaker asked.

"Negative, you-"

An explosion in the direction of the ship cut him off and both mechs looked in that direction. They looked at each other and Optimus nodded permission to Sunstreaker, who transformed and drove back through the trees they'd damaged on the way here.

Optimus moved toward the ditch Arcee had fallen in, hoping to find her still alive, dreading that she wasn't. He found himself feeling more relief than he'd felt in a long time when he saw she was functional. Very much trapped by Airachnid's web, but functional.

"Optimus," Arcee said, relief clear in her voice. "You're ok."

Optimus was silent as he carefully slid down the side of the ditch, subspacing his blasters. He took out his sword as he grew close to the webbing and cut it free from the ditch wall, careful not to let Arcee fall. The ditch wasn't much deeper, but there was no need for roughness.

"Optimus…look…I'm…I'm sorry," Arcee said. "I didn't keep my cool. I saw Airachnid and I- I…" Her optics wavered as she spoke even as he carefully cut through the webbing. "I compromised the mission."

"Airachnid's goal was to separate us," Optimus said, tone conveying the weight of his words.

"And I played right into it," Arcee said as Optimus cut the last of the webbing from her wrists and let her down gently to stand on her own pedes.

"We will talk about this further back at base," Optimus said firmly. "We must regroup with the others."

"If they're still alive," Arcee said, looking angry with herself.

Optimus placed a hand on her shoulder. "Jazz and Sideswipe are both resourceful. I have every confidence they made it out before the explosion."

"You'd be right there, Prime," Jazz's voice reached their audials and they looked up to see the mech grinning down at them.

Optimus nodded, then turned to Arcee to help her climb out of the ditch while Jazz called for a Ground Bridge. They were going to have a long talk when they got back, but for now they could be grateful no one had paid with their lives.

Chapter Text

Chapter 19: Drift

Ratchet found himself, not for the first time since Shadebreaker's capture, standing at the door of the room he'd placed her in when she'd been injured. She'd continued to stay in it upon healing, neither of them feeling a rush for her to leave medbay when she had no real quarters of her own. And she helped enough in medbay for the humans to buy that she'd become something of an assistant to him. He had yet to enter.

He sighed heavily as he opened the door and stepped in, looking around as his spark squeezed painfully. It was mostly clean, though whether that was because there wasn't much she had to her name he wasn't sure. Her datapads were strewn about the small desk they'd moved in for her hap-hazardly and the blanket was halfway fallen off the bed. It was the opposite of how meticulous she was about helping him organize the rest of medbay.

Ratchet shook his helm slightly, walking further into the room and straightening the blanket on the bed. She'd chosen one of the softest ones, he noticed as he smoothed it out over the bed. He told himself he was doing it because he thought she might like to come home to a straightened room, not as a way to cope with the fact they'd lost her. Not because it had been two weeks and the outlook was looking bleak between Steadishift's continued silence, the lack of other leads and the incident with the one they might've had being blown up to prevent an Insecticon infestation of the planet.

Ratchet swallowed back some emotion as his optics landed on a picture she'd placed on her desk as he looked up. It was one Wheeljack had snuck of the two of them, he knew. Sitting on the beach, looking out at the ocean, from behind them as she leaned against his shoulder with her wings folded up neatly against her back and his arm around her gently. He hadn't realized Wheeljack had given her a printed copy, but he clearly had.

Ratchet moved over to the desk and picked up the framed picture, optics taking in the simple frame. It was a black frame, nothing special, but when he picked it up, he noticed something attached to the back. He turned it over and frowned at the paper.

"What's this?" He asked quietly, carefully removing it. He opened the folded piece and felt his spark nearly skip a pulse.

'I know what I'm feeling. Why can't I admit it this time? Fear shouldn't hold me back…' The words were surrounded by scribbles and nonsense marks he didn't quite know how to interpret.

"Aw, Shade'," Ratchet said, placing his hand over his spark as he realized he'd just read something he wasn't meant to.

He folded the paper carefully and reattached it where it was. Then he carefully placed the photo back in its place on the desk. His spark gave another squeeze of pain at the knowledge of her feelings. This was something they should be talking about, not sleuthing out via snooping on each other. That's not what this was supposed to be.

Feeling like he'd stepped over boundaries without meaning to, Ratchet heaved a sigh and looked at the datapads littering her desk. His optics wavered as he fought with himself for a moment before leaving the room. There were things he could do to make better use of his time. Shadebreaker could worry about her desk when she returned.

She had to return. His spark couldn't handle it if she didn't.

Wheeljack watched his friend as he worked on the destroyed cylinder in hopes to rescue the data within. "Ratchet," he said carefully.

"What?!" Ratchet asked angrily.

Wheeljack didn't flinch, used to his friend's moods. "You need to take a break," he said gently.

Ratchet growled, frame shaking as he continued to work. It had been two days since he'd poked into Shadebreaker's room and he hadn't stopped working since.

"I'm fine," Ratchet said, tone telling Wheeljack that he was anything but.

Wheeljack sighed. "Ratchet, you can't do this to yourself," he said. "We need you at the top of your game."

"I'm fine, Wheeljack!" Ratchet snapped, whirling on him and whipping a wrench from subspace. He didn't throw it quite yet, but the threat was there.

Wheeljack stared at him for a long time. He knew what he was doing. He was throwing himself into work nonstop to distract himself. To keep himself distracted from the fact the femme he had fallen for was currently in Decepticon hands and they had no leads on getting her back. To keep his spark from falling into despair so deep they may not be able to pull him out. But it wasn't a healthy coping mechanism.

"We're going to find her, Ratchet," Wheeljack said gently. "And-"

"How do you know?!" Ratchet asked aggressively, emotion heavy in his voice.

This time Wheeljack did flinch.

"The Decepticons are doing Primus knows what to her, Wheeljack! And we have no way of tracking them! No way of- of finding her!" Ratchet continued, gesturing wildly with his hands. "And even if we did…I may not be able…what if I can't fix her?" He covered his optics with a hand.

Wheeljack watched his friend with sympathy as he ranted. His spark ached for him, it did, but he knew the mech was mostly speaking out of grief and fear. "Ratchet," he said, moving closer and placing a hand on his friend's shoulder. "You are the best medic in the universe. Even better than the mech that taught us. You are Chief Medical Officer for a reason. Whatever the Decepticons are doing to her, you will fix. Just like you fixed her up when she first came. Just like you've fixed up Bulkhead. Just like you fixed up Omega Supreme. And countless other bots who were on the brink of death. Cause you are Ratchet and there ain't a bot in this universe you can't repair."

Ratchet scoffed a little, but he seemed to have calmed down a little. Only a little, though, and seemingly only because he didn't have the energy to keep up a shouting match. "If only," he said, tears at the corners of his optics. "Tell that to Bumblebee's voice box."

Wheeljack's own expression betrayed the fact he was near tears at Ratchet's words and the spark break in them. He squeezed Ratchet's shoulder reassuringly. "I hear you, Ratchet," he said softly. "But this won't be like that. We'll do everything we can so that it won't be like that."

"It might not be enough, Wheeljack," Ratchet said heavily. "You know that. How many have we lost to this war?"

"Too many," Wheeljack had to admit heavily, frame sagging. "Too many."

Ratchet pulled away, turning back to the cylinder. "Just let me work." He sounded tired. Defeated.

Wheeljack watched him for a moment longer, wishing he knew what else he could say to reach him. He'd known Ratchet the longest out of anyone, yet he still didn't know how to handle this grief in his friend. How did you console a mech whose conjunx endura was ripped from him before he even told them his feelings?

"Okay," Wheeljack finally said softly. "But know that we haven't given up yet. It's not time to give up yet."

He watched as Ratchet's grip on the wrench tightened, shoulders rising as his whole frame tensed. Wheeljack knew it was pain, not anger, that caused it, but he still took a wise step back.

"I'll be back later," Wheeljack promised.

Ratchet didn't reply as Wheeljack moved to leave the room. Wheeljack was not oblivious to the sound of the wrench hitting against something after the door closed, however.

"We're picking up a signal," Arcee said from her station at the computer.

"What kind of signal?" Chromia asked.

"According to our sensors," Arcee replied, pausing as she finished typing. "A Decepticon escape pod?"

Chromia shared a look with Ironhide, who was standing not far away as he conversed with Major Lennox about how training with the humans was going. Lennox nodded and waved, indicating they could finish later.

"Any indication whether it's from the Nemesis?" Ironhide asked.

"It's impossible to tell," Arcee replied, typing furiously to get a read on a trajectory and an origin point. "All our sensors can tell is that it came from above the hemisphere."

"What about touch down point?" Chromia asked.

If there was any chance it could be Shadebreaker, they would want to investigate. While the odds of her orchestrating her own escape dwindled by the day, they weren't ruling it out yet.

"Calculating that now," Arcee replied.

The three Autobots and human standing by were silent as they watched the screen as the numbers were ran. The silence was a bit tense as each of them had their own thoughts on the matter, both hope and worries about what it might be. It could be Shadebreaker. It could also be a Decepticon. They wouldn't know until it was opened up.

"Got it," Arcee said as a set of coordinates showed up on the screen. "I'll call Optimus to meet you at the Ground Bridge."

"Prowl…" Steadishift said, voice weak and pleading.

Prowl's doorwing shifted at his name and he looked at their prisoner with an analytical gaze.

Steadishift shifted weakly. "Prowl…you can't…please."

"You know what to do to get the cuffs removed," Prowl said, remaining firm. He stared at Steadishift, calculating the odds the mech was faking the pain in his expression.

"F-frag you," Steadishift growled out. His systems gave a whine of protest.

"Prowl," Sunstreaker said quietly from where he sat at the monitoring station they'd set up to monitor the Shifter's vitals.

Prowl stepped over to look over the twin's shoulder at the readouts. Not faking it, then. And yet he was still not forthcoming.

"Would you really rather die than give up the codes to track the Nemesis?" Prowl asked, looking at Steadishift.

"Megatron will-" Steadishift winced, coiling in a ball as his vitals wavered. "-do worse instead if I reveal anything."

Prowl didn't doubt it. He knew the threat of Megatron, and the DJD, was enough to deter many mechs from talking.

"Prowl…" Steadishift growled, writhing.

Prowl's doorwings lowered as he glanced at the vitals readings. He moved away from the monitor and opened the cell to step in. He knelt by Steadishift and reached over, removing the cuff that prevented him from shifting.

Practically immediately the mech shifted forms a couple times and Prowl stood by, waiting for him to settle into one before replacing the cuff and moving to exit the makeshift cell once more.

"Prowl…"

Prowl paused at the exit, doorwing shifting to indicate he was listening.

Steadishift laughed weakly. "I knew you didn't have it in you."

Prowl frowned deeply, sharing a look with Sunstreaker and watched the mech flip a switch he knew was to the security cams. He turned back, moving back across the cell to Steadishift as the mech shifted into a sitting position. He delivered a roundhouse kick to the mech hard in the chest, sending him flying against the wall. He walked over and pinned him against the wall with his forearm against his neck.

"Do not mistake my action for kindness," Prowl warned darkly. "You will tell us something useful. Or you will rot in this makeshift cell the rest of your days."

Steadishift laughed darkly. "You think that scares me?" He grinned, optics wild. "Megatron will win and he will reward my loyalty when this war is over."

Prowl stared at Steadishift's optics for a long moment, analyzing. "You really believe Megatron will care about a mech who let himself get caught?" He asked. "I've seen him offline mechs for less."

Steadishift scoffed. "They didn't hold as much value as I do. You'll see. You all will see. Megatron will pry all the information he needs to win this war from that future seeing femme of yours."

Prowl tilted a doorwing.

"You think I haven't noticed? She's the only one who hasn't had guard duty," Steadishift said, grinning. "Besides that green lug, anyways. Who else could it be?" He cackled.

"Then perhaps he will know that you tried to kill her before he could garner that information," Prowl suggested.

Steadishift's cocky smirk dropped.

Prowl dropped him to the ground then and then promptly left the cell at that. "Keep an optic on him and let me know if he decides to talk," he told Sunstreaker as the cell barrier closed once more.

"You got it, Prowl," Sunstreaker said, glaring darkly at the mech staring in horror at Prowl's back.

Prowl left the room and headed toward the exit of the ship. He'd gotten a ping from Optimus that he was requested for a mission while he was exiting the cell. He transformed upon hitting the pavement and drove the most direct path available toward the Ground Bridge.

Prowl peered out from behind the cover of the trees surrounding the crash site of the Decepticon escape pod.

.:I count ten Vehicons and one Howlback:. Ironhide's voice came over comms.

.:Orders, sir?:. Chromia asked.

.:We hold:. Optimus replied. .:Wait until we know what we're dealing with.:.

Prowl shifted his weapon closer to his chest in preparation, making sure it was ready to be fired. He moved one hand to pull a device from subspace, placing it on the tree to pick up what the Decepticons were saying from this distance.

"Is the area secure?" Howlback asked in her growly tones.

"Yes sir, no sign of any Autobots," a Vehicon replied as a couple began cutting into the escape pod. "It appears the escape pod's doors have malfunctioned, but we'll have them out in a jiffy."

"Good," Howlback replied, tail flicking.

The Decepticon femme paced, optics staring at the pod. "We cannot risk this prisoner's successful escape."

.:Optimus:. Prowl said.

.:I heard:. Optimus replied. .:Autobots. Move in!:.

Prowl leapt from his hiding place at the same time as his fellow Autobots. Ironhide's cannons immediately took out two of the Vehicons before their enemies even had a chance to reacted to the suddenly appearing Autobots.

"Autobots!" Howlback cried, barely heard over the black mech's war cry.

Chromia took out two more as Prowl made short work of two of his own. Optimus was slicing through three with the Star Saber who had come around to prevent him from advancing on the Decepticon feline.

"Howlback," Optimus said, pointing the blade at her. "Leave. Now. And you may live."

Howlback hissed as the final Vehicons fell to the Autobots surrounding her. It had been an unfair fight, really. Vehicons against a handful of the fiercest of Autobots? They hadn't stood a chance.

"This isn't over, Prime," Howlback hissed, flexing her claws.

Optimus narrowed his optics.

Howlback glanced around her, then pounced to the side, aiming at a gap between them. Prowl shifted to intercept, but Optimus held a hand up to stop him.

After she was gone, they waited for a beat, sensors on high alert. Then they converged on the escape pod, surrounding it. Chromia and Prowl stood guard in case more Decepticons showed up while Ironhide took up a defensive position just in case the bot inside attacked once freed.

Optimus stepped up to the partially opened hatch on the pod and wrapped his digits around the edges of the door. He gave a couple good heaves before the door came all the way off and tossed it aside and peered inside.

"Well?" Ironhide asked.

"Let Ratchet know to prepare medbay," Optimus said.

Prowl moved over to peer inside as Optimus shifted to lift the occupant from the pod. It wasn't Shadebreaker inside at all, but a mech. Wearing a Decepticon insignia that appeared to be scratched and dented upon his white chest armor.

A Decepticon he recognized from the days the war was still on Cybertron.

Deadlock.

"What is the status of your patient, Ratchet?" Prowl asked.

"Still in stasis," Ratchet replied. "Energon levels were dangerously low when you brought him in. Broken leg struts, left arm is sprained, right shoulder joint was completely dislocated, back strut had a couple fractures. Several fuel line ruptures. And a number of other smaller issues, including a malfunctioning T-cog. It's a miracle he even made it into an escape pod, if he really made it in by himself."

"Deadlock was a formidable foe to any Autobot," Prowl said, looking at the mech laying on the med slab. "If any bot could drag themselves into an escape pod with a broken back strut, I suppose it would be him."

"You said Howlback called him a prisoner?" Ratchet asked, raising an optic ridge.

Prowl nodded. "Logic stands that he must have decided to leave the Decepticons. Between that and the state of his insignia."

"And we both know how Megatron feels about deserters," Ratchet said dryly. He sighed. "It's going to be a day or two before we can ask."

"With your skill, I will expect a day," Prowl said.

Ratchet waved him off and then moved back toward his patient to get to work.

Prowl watched him for a moment before moving on. He hadn't taken a break himself since Shadebreaker's capture and he could feel all the grime that had built up in his frame. He needed a shower.

Systems rebooting…

Deadlock had expected pain when he woke up. A lot of it. So when none came, he was confused. Was he dead? Had his injuries caught up to him? Had he bled out in that escape pod? He didn't feel dead. But then, what did dead even feel like? Maybe it felt like this.

More awareness came into his systems and he realized there were things attached to him. An IV was going into his arm, or what he thought was an IV—it felt familiar enough from the times he'd been in the hospital recovering from an overdose on circuit boosters. And something else…something connected to his spark. That wasn't good. He had been close to death then.

"I see you are awake, then," a voice said.

Deadlock frowned. That voice. It was familiar. He shifted his helm, willing his optics to open, but only managed to squint them open a sliver to see a blurry form of white and red.

"Easy," the voice said, messing with something on the line going into his arm. "You took quite a beating in your escape, assuming that's what you were really doing. Save your strength. Rest. We'll talk when you have more strength."

Deadlock wanted to know where he was and why the mech sounded so familiar, but when he opened his mouth he found he had no strength to speak. And then his optics were closing again. And awareness faded once again.

The next time Deadlock came into awareness it was sharper. And louder.

"Come on, Bulk'! Let's go drive circles around those twins!" A female voice called in that strange language Deadlock had downloaded just before making landfall.

The sound of heavy pedesteps reached his audials. "I'm not sure I'll ever drive circles around them, Miko," a mech, presumably this "Bulk", replied with a good deal of humor in his tone.

The heavy pedesteps faded and Deadlock heard a door close. Then another set of pedesteps approached where he was lying and he opened his optics to see who was approaching. Then he realized why the voice from before was familiar.

It was the medic who had saved his life that time he'd overdose on circuit boosters all those years ago. Ratchet. Autobot. Chief Medical Officer. He wasn't sure if he was relieved or terrified.

"Easy," Ratchet said, making a calming motion as his frame began to shake against his will. "My name is Ratchet. I'm your medic. I have no intention of hurting you."

"I know who you are," Deadlock said weakly, flinching at the coarse sound of his voice.

"I assure you whatever horrors the Decepticons have told you are probably wrong," Ratchet said, likely having heard some of the unsavory rumors that spread amongst the Decepticon ranks about the Autobot medic.

Deadlock smirked in amusement. "You misunderstand me, Autobot," he said. "You treated me before. Before the war, Ratchet."

Ratchet looked at him with a frown. "I treated a lot of bots before the war, mech," he said.

"For an overdose on circuit boosters," Deadlock clarified.

Ratchet considered the mech for a moment longer. "I'm sure I have records, then," he said. "You'll have to forgive this old mech for not remembering every face from before the war that walked into my clinic for such cases."

Deadlock chuckled. "That's fair," he said, genuinely not offended. He coughed.

"Save your strength," Ratchet said, running a scanner over him. "I've repaired most of the damage, but it will still be a day or two before you can be up and about. And Optimus and Prowl will have some questions before you are allowed anywhere outside this medbay."

"Not gonna just put me in a cell? I thought I'd be a prisoner," Deadlock said, narrowing his optics.

Ratchet pointed to his chest, at the insignia he had tried in vain to scratch off his armor. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but it appears to me as though you are done with the 'Cons."

Deadlock chuckled. "Yeah," he said. "I am. The Decepticons…they lost their way a long time ago. Took me too long to see it."

"Well, better late than never," Ratchet said. "Now, if you are up for it, I have some questions for the med logs."

"Fire away, doc," Deadlock said weakly, waving a hand without moving his arm. Not that he could. Despite Ratchet's words, they had cuffed him to the med slab.

"Designation?" Ratchet asked.

"Current or past?" Deadlock asked.

"Pre-war would give me the ability to look in my records for you, if you are comfortable," Ratchet said gently. "I wouldn't have anything from your Decepticon days, so if you want to leave that name in the past, you don't have to provide it."

"I'm pretty sure some of you know it," Deadlock said.

"I'm sure, too," Ratchet said and something about his tone confirmed that thought.

Deadlock sighed and told Ratchet both. Then told him he didn't want to go by either anymore.

"What do you want to go by?" Ratchet asked.

Deadlock thought about that for a long moment. "I don't know yet," he admitted.

"That's ok," Ratchet said kindly. "Take your time to think about it. Names are important parts of who you are."

Deadlock nodded in agreement.

They went over a couple more questions before Deadlock felt his systems grow more sluggish.

"We'll cover more later," Ratchet said, resting a hand on his shoulder. "Rest. You need it."

"Thank you," Deadlock said before promptly falling into recharge.

The next time Deadlock woke there were more bots there to talk to him. Ratchet was there, of course, urging him to drink energon after removing the cuffs around his wrists. Around him were also a Praxian and a tall mech Deadlock knew by reputation only.

"Deadlock-"

"He doesn't want to be called that," Ratchet said for him since he was sipping the cube of energon.

"As you have said," the Praxian said, giving the medic a bland look for the interruption. "But given he has not yet given us a new name by which to call him, Deadlock is the name by which we have to refer to him. Unless he would prefer Highjacks."

"Oh Pit no," Deadlock spat between sips. "Deadlock is preferable until I make a choice."

The Praxian looked at Ratchet and the medic made a conceding motion with his hands.

"As I was saying," the Praxian said, looking back at the ex-Con. "Deadlock, I am Prowl, second-in-command of the Autobots. Allow me to welcome you formally to the Autobot base and introduce you to Optimus Prime." He motioned to the tall mech.

Deadlock looked up at the big mech, red optics widening slightly. He had not expected to meet the leader of the Autobots so quickly.

"Greetings, Deadlock," Optimus said, deep voice soothing. "It is good to see you are on the road to recovery. I hope it is swift."

"T-thank you, Prime," Deadlock said, blinking.

"I hope you do not mind if we ask you a few questions," Optimus said, holding a hand out, palm up in request. Request, not order. "If you need more rest first, however, they can wait."

Deadlock frowned, somehow sensing a heavy air about them. He had a feeling not all of the questions would be easy ones. "I will answer whatever questions you have." He said, offering his own palm out, palm up in offering. "When I made the decision to leave the Decepticons, it was with the full intention of joining the Autobots."

The three Autobots shared a look.

"Perhaps you could first expand upon your reasoning for that," Optimus said, waving a hand in front of him.

"The Decepticons lost their way a long time ago," Deadlock sighed heavily. "It took me a long time to see it. We were supposed to be freeing bots from tyranny, not…not…spreading it. I don't know exactly when it flipped from one to the other. I don't know how I didn't see it sooner. All I know is that once I did, I couldn't stop seeing it. I spent a long time just… drifting through the motions after that. Just…surviving while I processed. My spark was no longer in it and I nearly died on multiple occasions because of it."

"What made you finally make the decision to get out?" Ratchet asked gently. "Instead of just…drifting?"

"It was on Vandar," Deadlock replied, resting his elbows on his knees and holding his cube of energon in both his hands. "The squad I was with was tasked with a simple energon scouting mission. That's what I'd been told anyways. Turns out my commanding officers had noticed my commitment to the cause had….dwindled."

"Your 'partners' were meant to eliminate you," Prowl said in realization.

Deadlock shook his helm. "To test me," he said. "They had created these…devices, you see? That could change organic matter into energy we could consume. Not…not energon, nothing as efficient, but something like it enough. They…gathered the indigenous life forms…they wanted me to…to…" His frame shuddered.

"I couldn't do it," he continued. "I killed the others and blew up the facility after setting the organics free. I fled the planet then, intending to find the nearest Autobot base to seek asylum."

"But you didn't make it," Optimus said solemnly.

"I did make it," Deadlock corrected, frame shuddering at the memory. "But the Decepticons, the ship I had been serving on, they made it there first. They had predicted I would flee there. They headed me off to make a point. 'No one leaves the Decepticons and lives to tell. We'll hunt you down wherever you go and murder whoever may shelter you.'" He shuddered some more, frame shaking again.

There was a pause of silence as the mechs took a moment to mourn the loss of life they'd just learned about. Deadlock was sure they would ask for further details about what base it was so they could investigate, but for now they solemnly let him finish his story.

"I fought them, of course, but they captured me," he continued. "After a few days of enduring their torture and listening to them brag about how they were going to turn me over to the DJD when they were done with me, I was able to escape my cell. I rigged their engines to explode and got in an escape pod, in which I drifted for a while, downloading languages from any passing planet that I thought the pod might crash on until I entered this one's atmosphere. I lost consciousness at landfall."

"Where we found you," Prowl said.

"That's quite a story," Ratchet said, sounding sympathetic. "You are safe now. You can rest."

Optimus nodded. "The Decepticons will not be able to reach you within our base's shielding," he said, deep voice reassuring alongside both his own and Ratchet's words.

Deadlock sighed heavily. "Thank you," he said. "Are there any other questions before I rest some more?"

"Just one for now." Prowl said. "Do you know how one might track a cloaked Decepticon ship?"

"Depends," Deadlock said, raising an optic ridge. That was not the question he was expecting. "Which one?"

"The Nemesis," Prowl replied.

"Megatron's flagship?" Deadlock asked, surprised. He shook his helm. "Sorry, but…only those who serve aboard were ever given that information. And I was never called to serve upon Megatron's personal vessel."

Deadlock might not know these bots personally yet, but even he could read the disappointment his words gave them. He frowned at the negative energy surrounding them.

"I can provide you with any information that could be useful for locating prisoners of high value outside of that, however," he said as consolation. "I don't know how helpful it will be. It entirely depends if they ever move who you're looking for."

"Thank you, Deadlock," Optimus said, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"Of course, Prime," Deadlock said.

"We will leave you to rest now," Optimus said. "I hope your recovery is swift and you enjoy peace during your stay."

Deadlock nodded to him and then watched the two mechs leave. Then his optics turned to watch as Ratchet moved to work on other things since he did not require any immediate care himself. He tilted his helm at the heavy set of the medic's shoulders. He wondered if it had anything to do with their interest in the Decepticon flagship.

"Ratchet," he said after he finished his cube and the medic returned for the empty receptacle. "I think I know what I want to be called."

"What's that?" Ratchet asked gruffly.

"Drift." He paused. "Also, can I ask you a favor?"

"What kind of favor?"

"I wish to change my optics back to their natural color."

Ratchet was silent for a moment. "I believe I can facilitate that."

"Thank you."

Chapter Text

Chapter 20: The More Things Change…

"Still no progress with our prisoner, Starscream?" Megatron asked.

"The Autobot is proving to be…very hard to crack," Starscream said, rubbing his talons together. "Not even Barricade seems to be having any luck and that mech has put her on Knock Out's medical table multiple times. I'm afraid much more from him and she'll be nothing more than scrap."

Megatron growled lowly and Starscream flinched, reflexively guarding himself. "Over a month, Starscream," he growled angrily. He turned his helm to glare at his second-in-command. "Over a month and you've made no progress?!"

"M-my lord," Starscream stammered, taking a step back. "We've tried everything. She just won't crack! M-maybe i-if you were t-to step in, my lord…you're much m-more imposing. A-and more c-convincing than the rest of us."

Megatron growled, then backed off, not missing the way Starscream's frame relaxed when the threat of him beating him seemed to subside. "Perhaps you are right, Starscream," he said, glancing toward the doorway. "If you want something done right, you have to do it yourself."

Megatron pushed the Seeker aside and strode down the walkway toward the way off the bridge. He walked down the halls with a purpose, thinking about what tactic he might implore on the Autobot that had remained steadfastly quiet this past month against all the tortures his mechs had used.

The cortical psychic patch would've solved the problem quite nicely—if they had a working model. Unfortunately, their resident oaf of a mech, Breakdown, had broken their only one in a tussle with Barricade when the mech had insulted the doctor. Unfortunate, but until it was repaired, it wasn't an option.

They'd tried brute force. They'd tried mnemosurgery and she'd almost fragmented Soundwave with the brief time he was in her helm with the force of her resistance. At least he had successfully blocked her T-cog access, adding a layer of barrier to escape. And he wasn't going to risk his most loyal and effective follower on another attempt at that with how high the rate of death could be with mnemosurgery. He had no one else he would trust with such a task.

Maybe it was time for a different approach.

The door to the cell their prisoner resided in opened upon his approach and he tilted his helm at what he saw. They'd stopped hanging her by the chains a while ago—Knock Out's orders if they wanted her to continue to function to get any information from her, something about tears in her joints that could lead to a slow bleed out. Instead she was chained to the wall by a length of chain that allowed her not much movement. She'd used that movement to wedge herself into the corner of the cell, wrapping her large bird-like wings around herself as if it would hide her from sight. He saw that her frame was trembling and her wings shifted tighter around herself as if they could protect her from him when she heard him enter.

How pathetic, Megatron thought, striding forward until he stood in front of her. He stared down at her for a long moment, wondering how this could be the same Autobot refusing to give his best interrogator answers. How this could be a member of the Lineage of the Primes. It was more pathetic than Sentinel Prime when the mech had fled the gallery without much fight, leaving his people behind to suffer.

It was a far cry from the femme who had faced him fearlessly in the desert of Egypts to get her fellow Autobot back.

Megatron knelt in front of her and reached, pushing a wing out of the way. She struck out with sharp digits and he caught her wrist, snarling at her. Her optics widened upon seeing who it was that had come to see her this time and Megatron couldn't miss the way her frame shook when he was this close.

"Still have some fight in you, after all," he said silkily.

She growled, trying to wrestle her wrist from him. "I have nothing to say to you," she spat.

Megatron chuckled darkly. "Oh, but my dear Shadebreaker," he said. "You do. You have so much in that little helm of yours."

He reached out and ran the back out of his digits down the side of her faceplates. She flinched, turning away from his touch.

"And if you tell it, if you swear your allegiance to me, I will ensure you won't have to suffer anymore of this torture," Megatron promised smoothly. "Why, you'll be treated like a hero. The femme who helped the Decepticons defeat the Autobots and bring restoration back to Cybertron! You will have a special seat at the table. And the best energon you can find."

"Eat slag," Shadebreaker growled. "And stop lying to me." She snarled at him.

Megatron snarled back and his hand moved quickly from the tender motions to wrapping around her throat. She let out a surprised gasp as he stood, lifting her up with him by the neck, claws pressing into the delicate wiring. "You seem to misunderstand your place here," he growled. He pressed her up against the wall. "You will tell me what I need to know. One way or the other. And if you do not tell it to me willingly, I will rip it from your mind and allow my mechs to torture you for a very long time."

Shadebreaker growled, squirming in his grasp, hands grasping at his claws as she kicked useless against him.

Megatron snarled, leaning forward, pressing his weight against hers and putting his helm near her audials. "There's more than one way to obtain your powers of time and space for my side." he growled in tones he knew would carry his meaning.

Shadebreaker's frame shuddered and Megatron felt the cords in her neck tense as she gritted her denta and the vibrations of the growl she managed to get out past his hold.

"But if you swear your allegiance, no one will touch you," Megatron purred, pushing her chin toward his face with his thumb. "Not even Shockwave and that vile pet of his."

"Like hell-" Shadebreaker growled and cut off into a whimper as he pushed her further against the wall, increasing the pressure on her neck. "L-like hell would I-I believe you f-for a s-second." She suddenly jammed her knee into his stomach. Hard. But not hard enough to cause the larger mech to flinch—her strength was too far gone from the many torture sessions.

Megatron almost laughed in amusement at the feeble attempt to get him to back off. "Perhaps you need a clearer understanding of what kind of pain awaits you if you keep up this resistance," he growled.

He clenched his fist and jammed it into her side, ripping a hole immediately through her armor, spilling energon and causing her to gag. He tossed her onto the floor then and she gasped in pain, scrambling to get away despite the chain restricting how far she could move. He approached her, ignoring the way her wings flared in warning and she glared death at him. Like a cornered predator faced with one higher up on the food chain with no escape.

"So brave," Megatron said in amusement, tilting his helm as a pleased smile formed on his faceplates. "It'll make it all the more fun to beat the fight out of you."

Shadebreaker growled and the sound was somewhat primal as her systems whirred, clearly attempting transformation against the codes Soundwave imported to disable her T-cog's function.

Megatron smirked before delivering a harsh kick into the same side he'd torn open with his fist. He knew Starscream had expressed concern over more beatings leading to her offlining, but he knew better than anyone the kind of resiliency in Seekers—and Knock Out had revealed to him that there was Seeker in her CNA. Starscream had not perished after any of his beatings, after all. And he knew Knock Out could repair her just fine—couldn't have their information well dying out on them.

Knock Out tsked as he looked over his scans as he walked over to the side of his patient. He had lost count of the times their Autobot prisoner had ended up on his med slab at this point. It was…unusual, but he knew why. She knew things Megatron desperately wanted to know.

"You're lucky, you know," he said, setting the datapad down and moving to work on repairs to her side. "One inch to the side and you'd have bled out."

"Tsk," Shadebreaker scoffed. "Lucky. Right. You wouldn't say that if you were the one in my position."

"Hmm," Knock Out hummed. "You're right. It'd be a travesty if my lustrous finish was as ruined as yours."

Shadebreaker chuckled lightly. "Such travesty, indeed," she agreed weakly.

Knock Out smirked slightly. He had to admit, he appreciated her sense of humor. She humored his own vanity when his own faction only ever mocked him for it. In another time, another scenario, he dared to think they could've been friends.

"Can't say I envy you, knowing the future," he said quietly. "Yet I must say I am curious. Surely you could tell me something. Do I become the Earth's first Cybertronian racing champion?"

Shadebreaker chuckled and the sound broke off into a pained hiss as he worked. "Sorry, doc," she said weakly. "I'm afraid it doesn't work like that." Her optics sparkled in amusement.

"Yeah, I know, you don't tell 'Cons future stuff," Knock Out said, waving a hand. "Can't blame a mech for trying."

"Heh," Shadebreaker chuckled again, giving him a look of mild distrust as he worked.

Knock Out knew she didn't trust him despite the jokes they shared. It was only natural. He was a Decepticon. She was an Autobot. Still, it was worth a shot. Clearly no one was making progress by beating her almost to death. He thought that by showing her kindness, maybe she'd share something with him. Something he could take to Megatron to win his favor and maybe some immunity from his wrath for a time.

Shadebreaker watched him with suspicious optics, listened as he conferred with Breakdown while he worked on her repairs. His job was to keep her alive, she knew, not converse with her as he did. Not convince the others that hanging her up with the chains was going to kill her if they kept doing it as he had—which she knew had been a lie, or at least was fairly certain it had been. She knew a manipulation when she heard it—she was fairly certain anyways. She just couldn't figure out why.

The door to medbay opened and Megatron strode in. Knock Out turned to look at him briefly, but didn't stop his work on her side.

"Report," he said.

"It will be a couple cycles before she is repaired enough to handle another…interrogation without risk of offlining, my liege," Knock Out reported smoothly. "You certainly did a number on her."

Megatron's optic roamed the frame of the femme, who had closed her optics to feign unconsciousness the moment the door had opened. He sneered, looking displeased at the fact she wasn't conscious. He moved to the side of the med slab opposite Knock Out and leaned over his patient.

Knock Out was forced to back up, pausing his work lest he bump into his leader. He shared a perplexed look with Breakdown.

"I know you are awake, dear Shadebreaker," Megatron said silkily. "You know what to do to make this end. I'll expect an answer our next session."

Shadebreaker was silent, still as she'd been since Megatron had entered. Knock Out wondered if she had actually passed out from the pain now, given he'd been forbidden from giving her any pain meds.

Megatron backed up and a snarl passed across his face at this lack of response. He looked at the medic. "Inform me the moment she is up for more interrogation."

"Yes, my liege," Knock Out replied, placing a hand over his spark and bowing, watching as Megatron walked out of medbay.

As soon as Megatron was gone, Shadebreaker peeked an optic open, checking if it was clear and then her frame shuddered as Knock Out stepped back up to continue repairs.

Bulkhead drove through the ghost town, tracking the energon signature they had picked up. It was good to be out in the field again, especially given what was going on. Any lead that might lead them to a possible Shadebreaker rescue was worth chasing. And they could always use more energon.

.:Anything yet, Bulkhead?:. Arcee's voice came over the comm link.

.:No:. He replied, huffing lightly. .:How about your location?:.

.:Nothing. This whole place is a ghost town.:.

Bulkhead rumbled his engine in agreement. It was a very, very large ghost town, but a ghost town nonetheless. It made him nervous, what with Arcee on the other side of it and all. It was the perfect place for an ambush. And who's to say the Decepticons weren't planting little hints of trails for them to follow in order to try to pick them off?

"Well look who we have here," a familiar voice broke into his thoughts.

Bulkhead slowed to a stop in the middle of a courtyard as he saw another vehicle on the other end. He watched them transform and then did so himself.

"Been a while, Bulkhead," Breakdown said, smirking. "I was afraid you'd perished before we could have a rematch."

"I don't go down so easily," Bulkhead said, transforming a hand into a wrecking ball in response to his opponent pulling out his hammer. "I've been looking forward to this for a long time."

The two ran at each other, trading blow after blow in a series of attempts to take each other out. Each dent Bulkhead gave Breakdown, he received one in return and he growled, venting heavily after several blows, frame struggling to keep up with the fast paced fight.

"Not looking so hot there, Bulk'," Breakdown taunted, circling him after knocking him back as he watched him stumble. "Are you sure you were ready to return to duty after the beating we gave you as a prisoner?" He twirled his hammer in his hand.

Bulkhead growled, not deigning to grace that with a verbal answer. Instead, he ran at Breakdown, aiming to deliver a blow to the side of his face. Before his blow landed, however, a harsh blow from Breakdown's hammer hit him hard in the side of the helm. His optics glitched as he fell hard to the ground and he struggled against losing consciousness for a moment before darkness overcame him.

I woke up in a lot of pain still. I wasn't surprised by this. Ever since my capture, my existence had returned to one where life was nothing but pain. Knock Out, as strangely kind as he was whenever I was in his medbay, was forbidden to give me any pain meds. And even with repairs, my frame ached in every spot damaged by the interrogation techniques employed by my captors. It was nothing unfamiliar, though.

My optics roamed the medbay to see who was here. Knock Out was next to the med slab, typing on the computer next to me. I was about to speak, to ask him a question, when the door opened and Starscream came in. I closed my optics to pretend to be asleep.

"Knock Out," Starscream's voice was strangely soft, uncertain.

"Yes? What is it, Scream?" Knock Out asked, looking over his shoulder. "Twist your ankle or something? Need your wings buffed?"

"Tsk," Starscream scoffed and I heard the scrape of his claws against armor, light. "Nothing of the sort." A pause. "I just thought you should know. Breakdown's been captured by humans."

"What?! Well, what are you doing here?! Go rescue him!" Knock Out demanded and I could hear the air movements as he turned and waved his servos.

"I can't," Starscream said, tone growling. "Megatron's forbidden it."

"What?" Knock Out asked.

"Megatron forbade it," Starscream repeated and he motioned, the action taking his servo closer to me and I felt a slight movement from the air. "He said Breakdown's not worth it if he's weak enough to be captured by mere humans. And demands I keep my focus on…other matters."

A pause and I felt their optics on me. I knew he meant me and my information.

"Tsk," Knock Out scoffed. "Get out, then. Leave me to my work in peace."

"Fine," Starscream said. He turned, moving toward the door. I heard him hesitate. "I just thought you should know. Since you're…you know."

Knock Out growled. "Get. Out!"

Starscream left then and then I heard Knock Out cry out and a clang and clatter told me he had thrown something rather hard. It reminded me of Ratchet and my spark hurt at the thought and I couldn't help the sympathetic whine that came out of my throat.

"You're awake, huh?" Knock Out asked, growling. His hands slammed onto the slab at my side. "And I suppose you're just gonna lay there and do nothing cause you don't tell Decepticons the future."

I opened my optics and looked at him searchingly. I found his optics and saw they were filled with anger and pain and fear. "If I help you," I said quietly, hopefully quietly enough any surveillance in the room would not hear. "Will you help me?"

Knock Out paused, clearly not expecting that. "Y-you would help me?"

"M-MECH," I said. "Is a threat to a-all Cybertronian, and human, life. A-and, though I'm sure it's been a ploy, you have been kind to me. Breakdown-" I paused to wince. "Breakdown doesn't deserve what they will do to him. No one does."

"MECH, huh?" Knock Out asked, standing up straighter. He looked up toward a corner. Then back at me. He seemed to be caught in an internal debate as he closed his optics. Finally, he exhaled air and opened his optics to look at me. "I'm risking a lot if I help you escape." His voice was unfathomably quiet.

"I know," I said. "You could always…" I turned a hand palm up, an invitation without words.

"I can't make that decision without him," Knock Out said, hanging his helm.

"I understand," I said, recalling Starscream's words. "But if we don't save Breakdown…much worse will befall him."

Knock Out stared at me for a long moment. He closed his optics again, expression full of pain and struggle.

I waited patiently for his answer, knowing it wasn't easy. Then he opened his optics, looking at me with the most serious look I had seen on the mech.

"We'll need to work quickly," he said. "I'm afraid there's not going to be enough time to complete your repairs."

"There is not," I agreed without hesitation. "I have functioned through worse, don't worry. I need only that you remove that which prevents me from using my portals. Then I can get us to where they are holding Breakdown."

"So easily? You know exactly where they are?" Knock Out asked.

"Precisely," I said, a certain growl in my voice that I suspected conveyed my feelings about MECH given the way Knock Out smirked, a sparkle in his optics.

Knock Out moved away and my optics tracked him. He typed on the computer next to me, paused to look at me with a look of consideration, then inserted a stick into a port and continued typing. He took the stick after a bit and put it into subspace before moving onto another computer. He left medbay for a time before coming back and going to the second computer again.

Eventually he came back to my side. "I've edited the footage to make it look like I took the Ground Bridge to go for a drive," he said quietly as he slid his digits behind my neck. I felt him pop something off my neck cables. "That'll do it. Your portals are accessible. You better not betray me, Autobot."

"You wound me, doc," I said, shifting to sit up with his help. "I'm a bot of my word. And I meant what I said about MECH. They're too dangerous. If I can stop them now, then telling you a little bit will be worth it."

"Dare I ask what they do to make you growl like that?" Knock Out asked as he got me on my pedes.

"One of us feeling rage is enough, I think," I replied and lifted a hand.

A portal opened next to us and we both ran through it despite the pain I was in.

"Optimus, we got a reading on Shadebreaker's portals!" Wheeljack said from the monitor.

"Good job, Wheeljack," Optimus said, walking over to him. "Where?"

"Near where we just picked up Bulkhead," Wheeljack replied.

"What? Why'd she be going there?" Arcee asked. "Nothing there but a ghost town."

"She may have chosen a random location upon her escape," Sideswipe suggested.

"That just so happens to be right by where we were investigating an energon signal that was a deadend?" Arcee asked. "Where Bulkhead lost to Breakdown and then got left alive while Breakdown mysteriously vanished? I don't buy it. There's a reason she went there. She knows something."

Optimus hums in thought.

"I have an idea," Agent Fowler said, walking over from the human sized computers on the catwalk that had recently been added to the tent, file in hand. "I just received word of MECH activity being reported in that area."

"MECH?" Wheeljack asked.

"A human terrorist group," Fowler replied. "Shadebreaker told me about them in confidence one day, expressing concern that she had not heard anything about them appearing yet. We've since looked into them. They're after the newest and most high tech technology they can find. And they think you guys are the gateway to that tech in order to create their 'new world order' as their leader, Silas, puts it."

"How come she didn't say anything to us?" Arcee asked.

"She wanted to confirm if they existed, first," Agent Fowler replied, passing the folder to Optimus. "I don't know all the details, but I can tell they make her antsy. And anything that makes our future telling bot antsy can't be good."

"So what does it mean that she portalled right to where there's suspected activity from them? She's not trying to take them on alone, is she?" Arcee asked, remembering how going after Airachnid on her own had gone.

"She's not that reckless to do that fresh out of the 'Cons," Sideswipe said. "Is she?"

"I'm afraid that if they worry her as much as Agent Fowler is implying, she may act rashly depending on what it is she knows," Optimus said, closing the file after perusing it. "Autobots. Prepare to roll out."

I peered out from behind a tree at the building I knew MECH to be hiding in.

"That's where they got Breakdown, then?" Knock Out asked quietly.

I nodded, wishing not for the first time that I had my visor back. "We should make sure they're there before we move in," I shifted and then flinched at the pain in my side. "It won't do him any good to go in before them and end up boxed in."

"You're the psychic," Knock Out said, picking a leaf out of his armor with a look of annoyance.

"I'm not psychic," I said, a slight amount of annoyance in my tone.

"Aren't you?" He asked silkily. "You know the future, don't you?"

"Yes? No? Kinda," I said, making a so-so motion with my hand. "But that's not how it works. I don't have visions or premonitions or shit like that." I ignored the fact that I had had dreams come to pass before, even as I flinched as that fact kinda made that a lie. It wasn't a lie when that wasn't the reason I knew this, right? "I'm not psychic. I know things, but I'm not….that."

"You don't sound convinced of that yourself," Knock Out observed.

I rolled my optics. "Whatever, doc," I said. I squinted at the building, trying to determine if our target was within. "Can you see anything that might indicate they are inside? It's hard without my visor," I said.

Knock Out squinted as well, leaning out from his cover. "I see tire tracks," he said. "Deep. Like they were transporting something heavy."

"Breakdown heavy?" I asked.

Knock Out squinted some more. "Very likely."

I nodded, shifting. "Alright, then," I said, taking my Path Blaster from subspace. "Then let's go wreck some assholes."

"My, my," Knock Out said, smirking as he took out his energon prod. "Never thought I'd hear an Autobot say that about humans."

"You don't know these humans," I said simply as we stepped out from our cover.

We moved low to the ground, stealthily and quickly. We entered the building and were immediately met with a handful of MECH soldiers. And immediately we began taking them out, each with differing reasons and expressions. While Knock Out took glee in taking out the humans who were holding his partner, I only frowned in acceptance that this was necessary. MECH and the soldiers making it up were evil. They chose this evil.

It wasn't long before we came to the heart of the building. Just as a drill was about to drill into Breakdown's optic.

Growling, I used my wings to give myself a boost of speed, grabbing hold of the machine just in time to stop it as the humans all yelled at stuff I was not listening to. I wrenched it away, breaking the arm off and then toss it toward the platform that held Silas, hoping to crush him. He, unfortunately, dodged.

"Rescue has arrived," Knock Out said smoothly as he made it to Breakdown's side.

"Doc?" Breakdown asked. "What are you doing here? How?"

"I'll tell you all about it when we get out of here," Knock Out said as he worked at removing the restraints.

"Why's she here?" Breakdown asked.

"What's it look like? I'm helping you." I asked, firing off shots to keep the humans off the mechs as Knock Out worked. I caught sight of Silas and growled, taking aim at him and firing directly at his heart.

I saw his glare bore right into my optics as I aimed. I saw him register the shot. And I saw the door close right before my shot hit him. I growled and made to pursue him.

I was stopped as an explosion rocked the ground beneath me, coming from the computer terminals on the far wall.

"Slaggit," I growled and reached over to help Breakdown to his pedes faster. "We gotta go before we get taken out with their fraggin' leave-no-evidence protocol."

"Don't gotta tell me twice," Knock Out said. "Can you transform?"

I gave him a flat look.

"Right, dumb question," Knock Out said. "Run!"

And that's just what we did.

"I'm picking up an energon reading this way," Ratchet said, looking at his scanner.

"A bit away from where her portal was, isn't it?" Sideswipe asked.

"She's clearly able to move," Arcee said.

"Autobots, use the utmost caution," Optimus warned. "It may yet be a trap."

They walked through the ghost town, following after the signature Ratchet was following with cautious hope on their sparks. They were headed toward the edge, they realized.

An explosion had them stopping, bracing against the rumbles in the ground that threatened to knock them off their pedes.

"What was that?!" Sideswipe asked.

"It came from the direction we're headed," Ratchet said, dread in his tone.

"Slag," Arcee said.

"Autobots, we must hurry," Optimus said.

My frame ached as we ran, every cord and fiber protesting the motion. I stumbled and my systems whined as I tried to keep up with my Decepticon companions.

"Come on, Psychic! Don't give up now!" Knock Out ordered as we neared the base entrance.

"Don't call me that!" I snarled out through heaving venting.

"Is now really the time to argue?" Knock Out asked.

I went to retort back, but my knees suddenly buckled from underneath me and I collapsed.

"Slaggit," Knock Out cursed. "Breakdown, help me!"

The two mechs were suddenly on either side of me, helping me. They basically carried me the rest of the way and just as we made it out of the building, somewhere inside a bigger explosion was set off. The mechs picked up the pace, Breakdown taking over carrying entirely as he lifted me bridal style and suddenly we were in the woods again.

They didn't stop until we were in a small clearing and Breakdown set me down against a tree and I hissed in pain, holding my side that had been wounded by Megatron. He looked down at me, clearly still confused why I was here.

"I'll call for a Bridge," Breakdown said.

"No! No, not yet," Knock Out said, holding up a hand to his partner as he walked up. He looked down at me. Then at Breakdown. "We need to hash out what we're telling Megatron first."

"Why?" Breakdown asked.

"Because if he knows we let Shadebreaker go he'll have our helms on a pike, that's why!" Knock Out growled.

I looked up at him weakly. "You…You're gonna keep to your word?" I asked, voice quiet.

Knock Out looked at me, then growled and looked away. "You did." He said as if that was all the reason and explanation he needed. "You could've let it happen. You could've let them have him."

I looked at him for a long moment. "Well then, I feel I should share something out of genuine kindness," I said softly. I looked at Breakdown. "Breakdown, if you ever find yourself on a mission to…deal with one called Airachnid, do not let her goad you into one-on-one combat. Under no circumstances."

"Uh, ok?" Breakdown said, looking even more confused. "What happens if I do?"

"You die," I said bluntly. "Gruesomely. It's not pretty. And-" I looked back toward the exploded MECH base. "Ya'll would learn why I hate those guys."

Knock Out and Breakdown shared a look of mild perplexion.

"Of course, both of those could be avoided if-"

"Up, bup," Knock Out said, waving a hand. "We have to talk about such an idea. Can't just go doing such willy nilly, you know?"

I smiled a bit. It wasn't a no.

"What?" Breakdown asked.

"I'll tell you later," Knock Out said. He started to move toward me. "Now-"

Branches snapping had the Decepticons pulling their weapons out and taking up defensive positions. I felt my frame shudder and I pressed against the tree in a vain attempt to fade into the background.

After a few tense minutes, Knock Out shifted.

"Autobots," he said. He knelt in front of me, taking a stick from subspace and holding it out to me. "Give this to your medic. It should help him help you."

I took it, a look of perplexion on my face. This seemed like kindness just for the sake of kindness.

"Don't read too much into it, Psychic," Knock Out growled.

"Don't call me that," I grumbled.

Knock Out flashed me a smirk and then stood again. "Let's go," he told Breakdown and then transformed, driving off.

Breakdown hesitated only a moment more, looking at me, before transforming and driving off after him.

I watched them go, mildly perplexed by Knock Out's actions. My attention was pulled away from their retreat, however, when Ratchet suddenly came through the trees, Optimus on his heels and Arcee and Sideswipe right behind them.

"By the AllSpark! Shadebreaker!" Ratchet said, scanner disappearing as he rushed to my side only to be replaced by another one.

"H-hey Ratchet," I said, smiling weakly, wondering if the Decepticons had gotten far as Optimus moved past us, clearly following their trail.

"How are you here?" Sideswipe asked.

"Had some help," I said, noticing Optimus pause when I spoke. "Turns out-" I paused to wince as Ratchet touched my wounded side. "Turns out not all of the rest of my knowledge is useless after all. And sometimes Megatron does stupid shit that leaves room for his troops to decide to screw him."

"You told them something?" Arcee asked.

"A calculated risk," I replied and then whimpered at Ratchet's touch again. "God, Ratchet, that hurts."

"I'm barely touching you," Ratchet growled.

My frame shuddered and shook. "It still hurts like hell," I said, growling back. "Anyways," I looked back at Arcee. "Nothing I told them could be used by Megatron. It's purely related to the mechs I told. Nothing on the overall grand scheme. I wouldn't have played it that risky. Even for the chance at escape. Ow, god da- fraggit!"

"Stop moving!" Ratchet hissed.

"You try staying still when your frame feels like it's on fire!" I growled, holding back tears. "It's not as if I'm trying to move."

Silence reigned.

"We should go back to base," Sideswipe said. "You can do repairs there, can't you?"

"I need to patch this leak before we move her," Ratchet replied.

"Don't you have any pain meds you could give me?" I asked, whining as I struggled against the urge to squirm away.

"My hands are needed in your side, femme," Ratchet said and I could hear regret in his tone.

I whimpered, tears falling.

Optimus's hand fell on my shoulder then and I reached up to grasp it as firmly as I could. "Ratchet," he said. "How long will it be?"

"I'm almost done," Ratchet said. "Just a little bit longer."

I whimpered, squeezing Optimus's hand and turning my helm as I covered my optics with my other hands as tears poured out.

"You're lucky this wasn't-"

"One inch over, I know!" I growled. "Megatron made it clear he wanted me beat, not dead. Can't fragging use me if I'm dead. I'd almost prefer if it was."

Optimus's hand tightened on my shoulder and I whimpered some more at the pain.

"Alright," Ratchet said softly and I felt his hands leave and armor be replaced, causing a sharp hiss to leave my lips. "I'm going to give you some pain meds now-"

"Thank Primus," I said, frame shuddering.

"And then we can go home," Ratchet finished.

The introduction of the pain meds to my system was sweet, sweet relief. Ratchet applied a fast acting one that dulled the pain to a throb and administered a second one that would take a bit more time to kick in but would knock the rest out in time. And then Optimus carefully lifted me into his arms as Arcee called for a Ground Bridge.

"This…this isn't a dream, right?" I asked as Optimus stood up straight. I looked briefly at Ratchet and then Arcee and Sideswipe in turn. Then up at Optimus. "You're here. Really?"

"We are here, Shadebreaker," Optimus confirmed. "Truly."

I sighed heavily, clinging to his armor as he began to walk toward the swirl of the portal that opened up. I buried my face in his chest.

"I am here," he reassured again.

I cried in relief at those words. Those wonderful words spoken by one so trusted.

"How is she, Ratchet?" Optimus asked softly of his medic.

Ratchet sighed heavily, looking up from the data Shadebreaker had given him—provided by Knock Out. "Right now? Not good," he said. "They did…so much, Optimus. They tortured her to near death, repaired her, only to do so all over again. Repeatedly. And that's not even getting into what Knock Out reported that Megatron planned to do." He shuddered in anger.

"Will she recover?" Optimus asked.

"Physically? Yes," Ratchet said, looking over where the femme was sitting on a medbay bed with crossed legs as she listened to Miko tell her about what happened while she was away. "Mentally? It is too early to know. What they put her through…the length of time they had her…it would greatly surprise me if it didn't leave a mark on her psyche. Especially given what she said."

Optimus placed a hand on his medic's shoulder, knowing he was referring to her words regarding her wound and almost wishing it would've killed her. It was always bleak to hear such words from a bot you cared about. "She couldn't ask for a better physician, Ratchet," he said. "We will all help her through."

Ratchet sighed. "I know, Optimus," he said lightly. "I know."

The two mechs watched as Miko moved in to hug Shadebreaker's knee and the femme laid a hand gently over the human child with a gentle look on her face. Her uncovered optics were filled with untold pain and spark break, but there was still hope swimming in them as well and that was a good sign. The soft gentleness that still remained was also a good sign.

Still, it saddened Optimus that her pain had been increased. She didn't deserve it. He approached her as Miko backed up, wiping tears from her eyes, and Shadebreaker looked to him.

"I am relieved you are back with us," Optimus said.

"As we all are," Ratchet said, having approached alongside him.

"Believe me, none of you are more relieved than I am," Shadebreaker said softly, optics wavering. She wiped at tears of her own. "But if it's all the same to you, I am tired. I need rest. Then I can talk and tell you whatever you wish or require to know."

Optimus nodded in understanding as Ratchet coaxed Miko away, much to her chagrin. "We will let you rest," he said, placing a hand gently on her shoulder. "And we will talk when you are ready."

Shadebreaker gave him a grateful look and settled down to recharge carefully.

"Can I stay?" Miko asked, voice worried.

Shadebreaker motioned toward Ratchet, indicating it was up to him.

"Shadebreaker still requires some repairs before it is safe for you to sleep right on top of her, Miko," Ratchet told her gently. "But perhaps Bulkhead will stay with you nearby." He moved toward where the mech was sitting on another bed nearby while he spoke.

"Ok," Miko said in acceptance.

Optimus watched them go for a moment before looking back at Shadebreaker. The femme was already starting to drift into recharge. Accepting that further answers would wait, which he'd expected, he reached out and tucked the blanket over her before moving away to go speak with his officers. There were a number other things that required his attention.

Chapter Text

Chapter 21: A Day in Medbay

I grumbled slightly as I came to, sensing a presence next to the bed I was laying on. An unfamiliar one. It confused me. Even on the Nemesis I had grown familiar with the presence of those who would interrogate me or make an appearance in Knock Out's medbay.

"You are awake." An equally unfamiliar voice said.

My optics shot open to be met by unfamiliar blue ones staring down at me. Said optics were framed by a white helm that had small gold accents. A quick perusal revealed a damaged Decepticon insignia on the mech's chest plate.

"Hasn't anyone told you it's creepy to stare at a sleeping femme?" I asked, raising an optic ridge as I reminded myself this was Ratchet's medbay, not Knock Out's.

"My apologies," the mech said, taking a step back as I sat up painfully. "You were mumbling in your recharge and I wasn't sure if I should wake you."

"Nothing sensitive, I hope," I shuddered a bit at the knowledge that I still sometimes did that. I had been told mixed information about whether I talked in my sleep or not. I rubbed at my forehead, closing my optics.

"Nothing I could make out," the mech said with a frown.

"Good, good," I sighed heavily, systems giving a whine.

"You are in pain," he observed.

"Yes," I admitted. "My helm is killing me. And my side. Where's Ratchet?" I was having trouble staying concentrated on the conversation past the pain.

"He had to step out," the mech said, looking away for a moment. "Should I go get him?"

"Are you even cleared to leave medbay? No, no," I answered for myself, cringing as I shifted. "I can see that you are still healing and given your insignia you are likely on probation, if not house arrest. It is not bad enough to risk you getting in trouble over. I do not know what kind of restrictions you have right now. I don't really know the protocol for ex-Cons." I shifted and cringed. "Just-ow-just talk while we wait. It helps a little bit…to keep the mind off the pain."

"You already know I left the 'Cons," he observed.

I peered at him and looked him over more thoroughly. I did, in fact, recognize him, even if his paint job was different—prechange from Deadlock to Drift. But I knew him mostly from a comic that took place after the war. So really, I couldn't say I knew from that. Plus, I didn't know if I could trust him with the knowledge that I knew things yet.

"Your insignia," I pointed to his chest. "Looks like you tried to pry it off. Decepticons affix it a little more permanently, huh?"

The mech reached up and touched it, looking a little self-conscious. "You…could say that," he said. "Ironhide has offered to make me new armor, so I can be rid of it. And my spark casing repaired."

"Good mech, Ironhide," I said, smiling, though the pain in my helm prevented me from fully making sense of his mention of his spark casing. "He will make you good armor. I mean, I haven't had Ironhide made armor yet myself, but I hear it's the best. I, uh, might have to ask him for some myself."

The mech looked to my side as I did so myself and he winced in sympathy at my mangled armor where Megatron had punched a hole in me.

"I'm Shadebreaker, by the way," I introduced myself, reaching out a hand to him.

The mech stared at my hand. "Drift."

I raised an optic ridge. "Not one to shake hands?"

Drift reached out and took my hand uncertainly and I gave it a firm shake.

"It is good to meet you, Drift," I said. "Welcome to the world outside the Decepticons."

Drift smirked lightly at that. "I am not sure you would say that if you knew how many Autobots I have killed."

"That was when you were a 'Con," I said, tightening my grip on his hand a bit. "You have left them. This is a new day. A new start. And we just met. I will judge you from now on for myself. Whatever you did in the past, it will remain there. Unless you intend to repeat it."

"I do not," Drift said.

"There you go," I said, releasing his hand now. "If I was going to judge you because you are an ex-Con we wouldn't even be having this conversation. Especially given where I just came from."

"The Nemesis," Drift said, looking sympathetic. "The others didn't say, but they asked me for information that could help them track the Nemesis or otherwise locate a high-value prisoner. I regret that I didn't have a lot of helpful information for any that might be held aboard the Nemesis. I did tell them what I could, however."

"Do not fret," I said, holding a hand out, palm up. "Megatron did not leave a lot of opportunity for rescue or escape. It is his own disregard for his troops that even allowed me to use the very thing he is after me for to gain access to an opportunity."

"What do you mean?" Drift asked with a frown.

I grinned a little, optics sparkling in mischief. "Oh, you'll find out if you stick around," I said. "I can't go spilling my secrets to a mech I just met."

The door opened then and laughter rang out from Sideswipe as he, his brother and Bumblebee came in. I flinched as it made my helmache spike and I rubbed my forehelm, turning away from Drift to focus on relieving the pain as much as possible.

"Hey, Shade's awake!" Sideswipe said, grinning.

"And in pain! Keep it down!" I whined, rubbing at my temples.

"Sorry," Sideswipe said, a lot quieter. "Ratchet's not far behind us. He got waylaid by Optimus and Elita."

I sighed a bit as the group came over more quietly. I saw Sunstreaker give Drift a very unfriendly glare as the mech moved aside to make room. I was about to open my mouth to say something when the mech spoke himself.

"I am going to retire to my room," Drift said. "And give you space to catch up with your friends."

"You do that 'Con," Sunstreaker growled.

Drift bowed lightly and slipped away as I glared molten daggers at the yellow twin.

"What?" Sunstreaker asked after he was gone, scowling at me. "Don't tell me you buy into his 'I left the 'Cons' slag, too. He's clearly playing us."

"Maybe," I said. "But everyone deserves a chance to change. I will judge whether it's true or not by his actions, not whether I'm convinced by words. He has to have a chance for his actions to speak first."

Sunstreaker sneered, but he didn't seem to have a come back to that as he just looked away.

Bumblebee whirled in concern as I returned to rubbing my temples.

"I'm ok," I said quietly. "My helm is just killing me. And my side hurts. And my whole frame is sore. Whatever pain meds Ratchet has me on wore off before I woke up. Or my frame is resistant to them. Or something. It just hurts."

Bumblebee whirles softly, sympathetically.

"We can come back later," Sideswipe said quietly. "Ratchet warned us you might not be up to guests, so it's ok if you need us to go."

"I just need pain meds," I said, quietly, frame shuddering. "Once I have those and they kick in, it should be fine. I would like some company. I…don't want to be alone right now. Too many thoughts to be had alone."

"Yeah," Sideswipe said quietly. He hesitated, then carefully climbed onto the bed next to me, placing a hand on my shoulder. "We can understand that."

I learned against him, feeling tears well up in my optics. I hadn't spent a lot of time with the twins outside missions yet, but I was open enough to them that his sympathetic motions now were enough to draw me in here.

Ratchet came in then, proving Sideswipe right that he was not far behind them. He came over immediately. "What's wrong?"

Bumblebee whirled softly, replying for me as I cried on Sideswipe's shoulder.

"Your systems must have built up a resistance to these pain meds from the last time you were on them," Ratchet sighed.

I whined at that. "They were the most effective then," I complained. "It wasn't even that long term."

"I know," Ratchet said, reaching out and rubbing my shoulder.

"And the others are needles," I complained.

"Yeah," Ratchet said.

"I don't like needles," I said, not caring how sad and pathetic I sounded at that moment.

"I know," Ratchet said gently, rubbing my shoulder.

Sideswipe snaked an arm around my waist and placed his other hand on my helm, rubbing it soothingly. My frame shuddered as I pressed into his hold, ignoring the awkwardness of the fact he was smaller than me. Our size difference mattered less while we sat on the bed like this.

"Shhh, we got you," Sideswipe said encouragingly.

My frame shuddered and I tried not to think about it as Ratchet removed my shoulder armor in order to give me the painkiller. I hissed when I felt the needle enter, clenching my fists.

"All done," Ratchet said after a moment and the needle was retracted. He rubbed the sight where he'd stuck me and then replaced my armor. "That should kick in soon. If not…"

"If not then I just deal with the pain until you formulate a new pain med that is effective for me," I said, grumbling a little.

"Hopefully I'll have one more effective before your frame decides to adapt to this one too," Ratchet said, rubbing my shoulder.

I reached out for his hand. "Don't forget to rest, too, Ratchet," I told him quietly. "I can hear the tired in your voice."

Bumblebee whirled in agreement.

Ratchet sighed. "You are the concern right now, femme," he said, rubbing his thumb over the back of my hand.

"Hm," I hummed.

Drift didn't really go to his assigned room when he left, but stood just outside the door to the hallway leading to the rooms. He crossed his arms as he leaned against the wall next to the door, his sharp hearing allowing him to eavesdrop on the conversation within. The bed Shadebreaker occupied wasn't terribly far from the door, after all.

Everyone deserves a chance.

That's what she told Sunstreaker. Even when she thought he wasn't there to hear her, she still defended him. He felt strangely touched by this strange femme's words. He winced in sympathy when he heard her whine and cry about her pain and needles. He could only imagine what the Decepticons aboard the Nemesis had put her through and none of what he imagined was good.

Once that subsided, he considered moving on. Surely Ratchet would come this way eventually and then he would be caught. But Ratchet's pedefalls took the medic the opposite direction when they moved, so Drift stayed and listened.

The twins, as Drift heard Shadebreaker call two of the mechs, and a third all kept her company for some time. Sideswipe, Sunstreaker and Bumblebee—he was not sure which ones were the twins, but he knew the angry yellow one was Sunstreaker and the one who spoke without words was Bumblebee so that left the red one to be Sideswipe.

The laughter was good to hear, if a bit foreign to Drift. Laughter was rare in his childhood home and non-existent in his life as a homeless bot before the war. Among the Decepticons, laughter was only heard in cruel and mocking tones.

This laughter lacked cruelty. It was light and friendly, brought on by lighthearted jokes. Including one he didn't quite understand involving Megatron. How could a femme fresh out from being tortured by the Decepticon leader find a joke involving him? Something about a video game.

"Seriously, though," Sideswipe's voice suddenly took on a serious tone and he realized in his confusion over the joke he had missed a different one. "You were sitting here, completely at ease with that mech. How? What do you know?"

Drift stilled himself completely, listening intently.

"I know what I know," Shadebreaker said cryptically. "Like I said, everyone deserves a chance. If you give Drift a chance, he will prove himself. Just…trust me on this."

Sunstreaker scoffed. "Not all your information has been accurate," he said.

Drift frowned at that. Information? Did Shadebreaker know something? About him?

"Obviously," Shadebreaker replied in a dry tone. "But it has not all been wrong either. Do not discount him. His actions will speak for him. Of this we can be certain. With or without my knowledge. And, no, I will not let my knowledge or my desire for him to be good blind me if he proves me wrong. I will not make that mistake twice."

Bumblebee whirled something about a Steadishift not being her fault.

"That's…that's not what I'm talking about, 'Bee," Shadebreaker said quietly, sadness in her tone. "But thanks. I appreciate it."

Bumblebee whirled something else, sounding concerned.

"No, I'll be ok," Shadebreaker assured. "I think I have it sorted. I will talk with someone if I need to, though. Don't worry."

"You better," Sideswipe said.

Drift frowned in thought, wondering. What kind of information did this Shadebreaker hold? Was that what Megatron had been after? Her information?

The door opening would've caught him off guard if he was a lesser mech. He was grateful it was Ratchet walking through and not Sunstreaker.

Ratchet saw him immediately and gave him an unimpressed, long-suffering look that said he did not approve of him standing there and eavesdropping. He motioned, clearly communicating for him to follow him.

Drift complied, walking with the medic down the halls. They were both silent, neither wanting the bots they left behind to know about his eavesdropping escapades.

"If I were you, Drift," Ratchet said dryly once they were out of hearing distance of the main room. "I would not make it a habit of eavesdropping around here. It is frowned upon."

"I apologize," Drift said, bowing his helm. "I won't do it again."

"See that you don't," Ratchet said firmly. "Especially don't let Sunstreaker catch you. He is unlikely to treat you kindly any time soon, if at all."

"He seems angry at my presence," Drift said, feeling disheartened. "I imagine many Autobots will feel that way. Sideswipe does not sound particularly pleased either. Shadebreaker sounds like the only neutral, almost friendly, party."

"Almost friendly, huh?" Ratchet asked. "Take spark, then. If Shadebreaker is almost friendly, she will be friendly as long as you don't screw it up. And others will follow. Not everybot, but some."

Drift glanced at the medic as they walked. "She knows something about me."

"Does she now?" Ratchet asked, sounding somehow neither surprised nor unsurprised. "Did she tell you that?"

"She did not," Drift said. "It was something I overheard. When asked what she knows in regards to why she was relaxed in my presence. The others pointed out her information hasn't all been accurate."

Ratchet hummed at that. "If you stick around, you may find the answers you seek," he said. "Or, you may not." He shrugged.

"You are as cryptic as she is," Drift said.

"Good, that means I'm not sharing what is not mine to share," Ratchet said, stopping as they came to the door to the room he was working on the cylinder in. "Now, I have work to do. I suggest you go get some rest. And no more eavesdropping, I mean it. I understand you are curious, but even Shadebreaker has her limits on what she will tolerate. And you are a freshly deserted ex-Con. You don't need any new marks against you."

Drift bowed his helm. "I understand, Ratchet," he said softly. "I will endeavor not to do so again."

Ratchet nodded, seemingly satisfied with that. He paused. "How's your pain levels?"

"They are fine," Drift said, wondering if the medic worried if his frame was resistant to the pain meds in the same way Shadebreaker's was.

"Good," Ratchet said. "Let me know if that changes."

Drift bowed his helm and then watched as Ratchet disappeared into the room to bury himself in work. He wondered if the medic did anything besides work. He had heard the concern in Shadebreaker's voice when she'd told him to rest and knew it was warranted. As a mech who never left medbay right now, he had grown to notice the medic also rarely, if ever, left medbay. The only time he'd seen him leave was when he had returned with Shadebreaker. He knew some Decepticons like that in his time. They had all ended up dead at some point.

Ratchet was continuing to avoid the subject, he knew. The subject he knew they needed to talk about. Their feelings. Mutual feelings going by that note on the back of her photo in her room. Avoiding it by only interacting when it was medically needed. Avoiding it by continuing to throw himself into his work.

It wasn't the right time, he was telling himself. She'd just gotten back from being a Decepticon prisoner. She had enough going on without worrying about navigating the potential of opening herself up to a romantic relationship. He knew it was a hard subject for her with her lost fiancée, her lost family. She didn't need that right now.

Still, his spark ached to reach out to her and pull her close at this time where she was hurting. He was hesitant to do so, however. His guilt over seeing her note kept him away. He knew he needed to tell her. That he'd snooped while intending to straighten her room. She would notice someone had been in there eventually. Whether she would think anything of it, he didn't know. He hadn't moved anything else but her blanket and the photo and the photo he had replaced in the exact same spot, or close enough to it.

He sighed heavily as a beep alerted him to someone entering medbay. He looked at the security cam to see Prowl entering and hesitated as he watched him exchange words and the three mechs visiting with Shadebreaker left. After a moment, he turned the sound on so he could monitor. Prowl had a habit of being work focused and Shadebreaker did not need to be doing work right now.

"...you holding up?" Prowl was asking once the sound started.

Shadebreaker shrugged. "My system has developed a resistance to the effective pain meds," she said. "So the ones that work have only brought my pain down to a dull throb, but it's better than it was when I woke up, so that's something."

Ratchet frowned at this, making note to start work on a new formula sooner rather than later.

"I am sorry to hear that," Prowl frowned, wings making a sympathetic motion. "Ratchet is working on a new formula?"

"I think so," Shadebreaker said, shrugging. "If we can find one. My systems have been finicky since the start about pain meds. They work for stretches and then stop being as effective. Maybe after a few days our normal will work again. I can hope."

"Indeed," Prowl agreed.

There was a pause of silence and Ratchet almost switched the sound off before Prowl spoke again.

"Have you met Drift?" Prowl asked and Ratchet ground his denta.

Shadebreaker should be resting, not be interrogated for her information for security. While the question could be considered social, he knew Prowl well enough it was more about the security concern an ex-Con might pose.

"Yup," Shadebreaker replied. She hesitated. "It's…strange meeting a bot of whom most the information I have is from a story from after the war while we are still in the war…when he is first leaving the 'Cons."

"You believe he is genuine, then?" Prowl asked.

Shadebreaker nodded. "Time and actions will prove him out," she said. "But I have no reason to doubt at this time. I…see hints of that future mech when I look at him. Small, but they are there. I may be seeing what I want to see. I didn't get a lot of time with him before the mechs came barging in and I was in a lot of pain." She sighed and shook her helm. "He wants to be good, I think. That much I can tell."

"I see," Prowl said. "You will tell me if you see a cause for concern?"

"You know I will," Shadebreaker said, smiling a bit in reassurance. "But I don't think I'll need to. Except maybe to express concern that Sunstreaker might beat him up. Mech is rather hostile regarding our resident ex-Con."

"Not without reason," Prowl said, shifting on his pedes. "I will monitor, however. Sunstreaker is known to haze ex-Cons and show hostilities toward them."

Shadebreaker gave Prowl a look. "Only haze, Prowl? Only haze?"

Prowl shifted a doorwing. "Your concerns are founded," he said. "I will monitor and act if he takes any undue action against Drift."

"Any action against him is undue, isn't it?" Shadebreaker asked. She bowed her helm, looking up at him as her wings shifted.

Ratchet couldn't help the smirk. Not many bots had the gears to challenge Prowl. Not many bots could challenge Prowl. Seeing her risk her life to protect Optimus had earned her the SIC's respect, that was evident.

"While you are not wrong," Prowl said. "The nature of the action would dictate the response. Verbal hazing, for example, may not call for as harsh of a punishment as a beating would."

Shadebreaker's wings shifted again. "I can see that," she said, tone relaxing.

"You are rather defensive of him already," Prowl observed.

"I know what it's like to feel like nothing you do matters for how bots see you," Shadebreaker said quietly.

Prowl was silent for a long pause as he waited for her to elaborate. When she didn't, he held a hand out, palm up. "I am sorry that you do."

Shadebreaker shrugged. "It is not your fault. Thank you, though."

"You are welcome," Prowl said.

Prowl lingered only a little longer, enough to say goodbyes and wish Shadebreaker a speedy recovery.

Ratchet sighed, turning the sound back off as the conversation ended. If the mech had asked her one more question that could be work related he'd been ready to march in there and send him away himself. Honestly, the mech could stand to socialize past work more.

Still, though, given the fact Shadebreaker was readily settling down to sleep, it was good he'd left. Shadebreaker looked tired from her socializing. She'd need some energon next she woke, but for now Ratchet would let her sleep.

I sighed as I stared up at the ceiling of the medbay main room, thinking. It had been a long day of scans and visits from my fellow bots. It was a mixed bag as far as I was concerned. Most of the conversations were pleasant. The only unpleasant parts were when the topic strayed to Drift, with some of them.

"I don't see how you can trust him."

"Once a 'Con, always a 'Con."

"I don't know about him, but I trust you. That being said, be careful. I don't want to see you more hurt."

Bulkhead, the twins, Chromia and Arcee were the main doubters. Or at least the ones who had voiced their concerns to me. Sunstreaker was the most hostile, but the others didn't exactly keep it hidden either. Sideswipe didn't trust him either, of course, but he at least seemed a little more open to giving him a chance.

I knew, of course, others had their own doubts, even if we didn't talk about it. I was willing to bet that Prowl had doubts even after our brief conversation. And that the others had their guards up despite not being openly wary about him. I understood where they were coming from. They didn't have the benefit of the knowledge I held in my helm. Plus, my knowledge had not all been accurate.

Except it had all been accurate when it came to the personality of bots. For the most part. Wheeljack was a small exception. A very small one. And only that he seemed more like himself from a reality separate from the one I was expecting his personality from.

Drift was thus far an undetermined factor in that determination. I didn't really know much about the Decepticon side of Drift or the Drift just starting out on the path of change. I knew the Drift who had been an Autobot already for years. Optimistic and spiritual, grating on Ratchet's nerves and…

And wiggling his way into his spark.

My spark squeezed a bit and I felt a tinge of jealousy.

I scoffed at myself as I rubbed at my chest, feeling a bit embarrassed at myself for the feeling. What right did I have to feel jealous over a mech to which I held no claim? It's not like I had never found that happiness.

Besides…what would happen if some day my fiancée did show back up in my life? As slim as that chance might be. If I pursued these feelings I had for Ratchet and then my thoughts that he had been lost to me were proven wrong…what then? There would be no choice that did not hurt someone I loved. And he would be hurt by the knowledge I did not wait even if I went back to him. It would forever mar our relationship.

I didn't want to hurt anyone. Especially not either of those whom I loved. I had never thought it possible for me to love two. But then, I believe the love had wiggled in for Ratchet because my fiancée was lost to me, or believed to be at least. I was not a polygamous person, after all, so that was the only explanation I could think of.

Yet, knowing, or believing anyways, that neither myself nor my fiancée were dead…it didn't truly feel like I had…permission to move on. And that was why I was scared to. Because what if the impossible happened again? My being here should be impossible. So who was to say it wouldn't happen again? As much as I didn't want him to go through the same pain. What if he did? And found the love of his life with another?

How long should I wait to see if it happened? How long did I wait until I could find some kind of information to tell me if it would ever happen?

Did it even matter?

Drift existed here.

Drift.

In another reality Drift was Ratchet's conjunx endura. What right did I have to claim Ratchet as mine? Just because I met him first?

I rubbed my chest again as it hurt in pain and confusion.

As a writer of fanfiction I had always had a rule. You didn't break up canon couples. I didn't break up canon couples. Obviously there was leeway for fandoms where realities changed things themselves. Or where things were left for interpretation.

Ratchet himself had only ever been canonically paired off in that comic. And a possibly interpreted relationship with Arcee in a different reality. Nothing ever said he was taken in any other reality besides those two. And that comic took place far in the future.

And this wasn't either of those realities. This also wasn't the same as that. Right? Why should I put myself in that box? Make myself stick to some theoretical rule about a theoretical relationship that may never happen even if I took myself out of the equation?

I paused at that thought. How would I even dare to take myself out of the equation? It's not like there was some other mech I had feelings for and I would never pair off with someone for whom I held nothing for. It's not like I held killing myself as an option—if I did, I would've taken it while Shockwave tore me apart and put me back together. And walking away from the cause was equally off the table. Asking for base reassignment was not something that appealed either.

Running away from my problems was so very not me that thinking about it only existed for me to dismiss all the options available to do so, it seemed.

But how was I supposed to face something like this head on when it was such a delicate subject? It's not the same scenario as it was that day I asked for my fiancée's number in the theatre. It wasn't that simple anymore. Was it? Wasn't communication the solution to all problems like this? I shouldn't find it so hard anymore.

I sighed heavily.

"You are still awake."

I almost startled at the voice. "You are very silent." I turned my helm to look at the white, black and gold mech in the darkness, wondering if he would take the white and red paint job I was more familiar with when Ironhide made his new armor.

Drift walked over, steps light. "I could not sleep, I thought a walk would help. Perhaps one would help you as well." He offered a hand out to me.

"Perhaps," I agreed, taking his offered hand and allowing him to help me sit up. "The company will at least allow me to escape my thoughts."

"I, too, have many thoughts," Drift said. "The darkness of the halls do not help me find my way from them."

"Perhaps some fresh air will help, then," I suggested as I got to my pedes carefully.

Drift tilted his helm. "I am not allowed to depart from medbay."

Well, there goes any chance I would have at sneaking off to the beach. He was as much a rule stickler as I was, eh? How far did that extend? I didn't recall him being such in the comic. Ultra Magnus had played that role. Drift was a voice of reason, not so much rules.

"What is amusing?" Drift asked, tone perplexed.

"Sorry," I said, trying to calm the amused smirk that had found its way onto my face at the thought of two rule-abiding bots sneaking off anywhere. "You do not have to worry. We do not need to leave medbay for fresh air. We can save sneaking around for when we are a bit healthier."

"What do you mean?" Drift asked as I motioned for him to follow me.

"No one has shown you the courtyard yet?" I asked, wings making small motions. "That won't do. We all need fresh air sometimes. Even us prisoners to medbay."

Drift raised an optic ridge.

"I mean that in jest," I chuckled as we approached the door. "We are kept here so Ratchet can keep a monitor on our health, not cause we're actually prisoners."

"You may not be," Drift said, sounding like he thought he was.

"Did Optimus or Prowl tell you that you are being held prisoner? I don't see any cuffs on you. Not even a subspace inhibitor device," I said, looking him over as I opened the door. "You are roaming the halls in the middle of the night with no body guard. Honestly, I had more restrictions when I was masquerading as a traitor to lure out a mole and I was being treated leniently. You, my friend, are no prisoner."

Drift tilted his helm, looking at me. When he didn't move, I motioned him to move through the doorway. After a moment he finally stepped through and then I followed behind him.

I stepped up next to him when he stopped, taking in the cool night air. I closed my optics for a moment, taking it in, taking in the peace of the moment. Then I looked up at the stars, tracking through them.

"I love how well you can see the stars from out here," I said quietly. I heard Drift shift slightly. "I thought maybe once buildings went up that star visibility would be lost, and it was a little, but we can still see lots more than I could where I lived before all this."

Drift was silent and I heard him shift again. A peek told me he had shifted his gaze up at the sky. "Where did you live before?"

"Still Earth, but…in a city," I replied softly. I hesitated, not sure how much I wanted to reveal yet. The Drift I knew so much about I knew I would trust, but I still just met this one. And he was just starting his journey of leaving his Decepticon life behind him. Who knows what he might think about an ex-human like myself?

"Among humans? Are we not supposed to be kept secret from the general populace?" Drift asked.

"We are," I replied. "It's a complicated story. I will tell you sometime, if you stick around, if no one else ends up telling you for some reason or another." I waved a hand lightly.

"I…see," Drift said uncertainly.

"Don't think too hard on it," I said, chuckling. "Trust me. I have thought myself in circles about it and I have all the information regarding myself there is available to us. I cannot imagine trying to figure it out with as little as I have shared with you." I half way grinned at him.

"You are a perplexing femme," Drift said, shaking his helm.

"Indeed," I said in agreement, nodding emphatically. "You can thank Shockwave for that, if you find it frustrating."

Drift frowned. He reached out and hovered a hand over my wing closest to him where it was wrapped somewhat around me. "Some of these scars are old," he said softly, referring to the scars at the connection point of my feathers. Not all of them had them, but a good many, especially now.

"Courtesy of a mech who thinks he's god," I said, hugging myself with my arms as I looked away, wings pulling in closer. "Thankfully, he does not appear to be on Earth. Or, at least Megatron didn't see fit to turn me over to him yet. Before I found an escape." I let out a shuddering breath.

"A blessing," Drift said.

"Maybe," I said, looking back up at the stars. "And yet…I wonder if I had ended up in his lab…if I might've been able to find some answers to some of my questions. Questions that his data from his experiments might be the only lead I could hope for."

"Are those answers worth going under his scalpel again for?" Drift asked.

I was silent, searching the stars for a moment as if they might answer for me. "No," I said finally. "Probably not. But those answers would go a long way to helping me find peace." I tightened my arms, and my wings, around myself.

"Is that why you are awake?" Drift asked. "You lack peace because of these questions?"

"In part," I said quietly.

I left it at that. I wasn't going to tell him that he was part of my turmoil. I wasn't about to do that to him. How would one even tell a mech that you were conflicted and confused because you had feelings for a mech an alternate version of them bonded with an alternate version of said mech in the far flung future? Would he think I resented him? Would it just complicate our tentative friendship? Would it make him feel like he must leave? I didn't want him to leave. Not because of that, anyways. If he left, it should be because of his own reasons, not because of me.

"What else?" Drift asked.

Of course he would ask. He really did have hints of that future mech, huh? Even though he was taking a different path there. And was just starting that path.

"Nothing that concerns you," I said a little guardedly. I inwardly cringed. I didn't particularly like being guarded. But I liked the idea of hurting his path toward goodness less. I liked the idea of chasing him away less. Even if that meant that maybe Ratchet might fall for him and not me.

"You have ill feelings about me too, then," Drift sighed, misinterpreting me.

"No! No," I said, alarmed as my body language opened up as I dropped my arms and opened my wings. I turned toward him and placed my hands lightly on his arms. "That is not it at all. Some things…" I paused to flinch, frame shuddering as tears pricked at my optics. "Some things…I am barely even ready to admit to myself, much less another bot." My voice broke a little as I spoke. "Especially one I have just met. It is….a personal problem." I put a hand over my spark.

"I see," Drift said, looking at me with a frown. "I am relieved I am not the cause for concern, then." He looked down at my hand that was still on his arm and I realized I must've confused him.

Cursing my overreaction—I was not usually one to overreact—I dropped my hand and took a step back. "Right, um," I said, rubbing at my arm. "Sorry, I don't usually react that strongly to things. I am…in a vulnerable spot right now."

"Understandably," Drift said gently, optics kind and understanding. "Don't worry. I know how harsh Decepticons are to their captives."

"I suppose you would," I said, frame relaxing as I saw he was not going to hold my over the top reaction against me. Or, at least, it seemed like he wasn't. It was hard for me to truly believe that was real. Even knowing what I knew.

Drift lifted a hand and then hesitated a moment before reaching out and placing it on my shoulder. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

My wings shifted as I thought. Well, if he wasn't with the Circle of Light, someone had to teach him how to meditate and be spiritual and stuff, right? "Have you ever meditated?"

Drift frowned. "I have not."

I motioned with my helm. "Come on, then," I said. "You're gonna learn something new tonight."

Drift didn't follow me immediately, but after a moment, he was following me into the square of grass in the middle of the courtyard and he sat cross-legged across from me.

"Now, young Padawan," I said, optics sparkling. "We shall begin your lessons."

Drift raised an optic ridge again, but said nothing about what I called him.

Ratchet grumbled slightly as he walked through the medbay early the next morning. He needed more sleep, but his internal alarm had woken him up, reminding him that he needed to give not just Shadebreaker, but also Drift their next doses of painkillers. He was not ready to be awake. Much less go outside, where the security cams told him they both were.

Honestly, what were they doing out there so early?

"Alright, you two…" he trailed off upon seeing them.

They weren't even awake. The both of them were asleep, leaning against the courtyard walls a bots-length apart from each other. At least they had the decency not to pile on top of each other's damaged frame like napping cyberkittens.

Ratchet sighed, gazing at them. It wasn't the most ideal spot for either of them, but it was the most peaceful he'd seen Shadebreaker since she'd returned and the same was true for Drift.

"Well, at least you can't fight me when you're asleep," he muttered.

He knelt by Shadebreaker first, reaching out and brushing the back of his fingers across her cheek. When she didn't respond beyond a light pur coming from her system, he gently removed her shoulder armor to administer the pain meds as gently and quickly as possible. She shifted, groaning as her frame registered the pain of the needle and he placed a hand on her shoulder to keep it still as he watched her, willing her to stay asleep. She did and he was able to finish and replace her armor without disturbing her further.

He paused when he turned toward Drift and saw blue optics watching him. He shifted closer so he could speak without waking Shadebreaker. "Light sleeper, aren't you?"

Drift blinked. "One of us has to be, sleeping outside," he said, optics darting toward the sleeping form of Shadebreaker.

"I guarantee you that it is safe out here, otherwise Shadebreaker would also be sleeping light," Ratchet said dryly. "In fact, I do not believe she would sleep at all if she felt it was unsafe. Much less stay asleep while I administer her painkiller."

"She must trust you a great deal," Drift observed as Ratchet took his shoulder armor off.

"She does," Ratchet agreed. "It's a trust hard earned. You should've seen her when she first came in. Thought she was going to run right out of my medbay."

Drift frowned at that. "She doesn't seem the type."

"She's come a long way," Ratchet said as he administered the shot to Drift's shoulder. "Now I can't hardly get her to leave. Even when she's not injured."

"You do not want her to anyways," Drift said it as a statement, an observation.

Ratchet sighed. "Something like that."

Drift watched Ratchet for a long moment as the medic replaced his shoulder armor carefully.

"Well," Ratchet said as he stood back to his pedes. "I'm going back inside. I'll be back to check on you by breakfast. Behave until then."

Drift merely nodded, understanding the need for the admonition.

Ratchet hesitated just a moment before moving back toward the door to inside, bringing up the security footage from overnight internally to review. While he doubted Shadebreaker would be sleeping so peacefully if something…untoward had happened, he had to make sure. This was still an ex-Con after all.

Once he was satisfied nothing happened that shouldn't have—it was nice seeing the two getting along if he was honest—he switched off the feed and went back to his quarters for a couple more hours of rest.

Chapter Text

Chapter 22: Memories and Truths

Drift stepped out into the courtyard and raised his optic ridge at what he saw. Shadebreaker was there in the grass, surrounded by a series of datapads and a small book that appeared to be made out of paper—a material Cybertronians didn't typically use. In her hands was a book made of Cybertronian material and he tilted his helm to read the title.

The Primal Sacrament: All-Faiths Edition.

He stepped closer, optics taking in the scattered datapads. Study notes, he realized. Some labeled for the "Human Bible" while others were labeled for the Spectralist religion and one was labeled as a specific comparison note datapad.

Drift moved his attention to the femme as he realized she had paused her reading upon his approach and was looking more than a little uncertain under his scrutiny.

"You are…comparing Spectralism with…human religion?" Drift asked skeptically.

Shadebreaker looked embarrassed, wings shifting as she motioned for him to join her.

He did so, sitting cross-legged across from her, the datapads between them.

"I…grew up with the human religion of Christianity," she explained. "I still believe in it…but…I guess you could say I'm having a bit of a religious…" she twirled a hand in the air, looking for the right word to describe what she was going through.

"Crisis?" Drift asked.

"Something like that," Shadebreaker sighed. "And when I started to look into Spectralism for…" she paused to look at him, but then looked back at the scattered datapads, "...reasons, I grew curious how they compared. And, I don't know…part of me…I don't know what words I'm looking for to accurately explain everything going through my helm regarding this subject." She looked a bit frustrated by this and then sighed.

Drift frowned, looking down at the datapads himself. "You…grew up with the human religion?" He asked.

Shadebreaker nodded and he saw her peek at him, watching.

"And you mentioned a few days ago that you previously lived among humans," Drift said.

"Mhm," Shadebreaker confirmed and watched him with the expression of a bot waiting for him to put the pieces of a puzzle together. To see how he interpreted this information.

"You…were you raised by humans?" Drift asked. That must've taken multiple generations, given the lifespan differences.

"Indeed I was," Shadebreaker said, tone one of caution. Whether she was cautioning him or just felt wary herself, he was uncertain.

"And…your human family…are they…here?" Drift asked, reaching for a datapad.

Her wings shifted defensively as her optics tracked his hand and she clenched her hands into fists. "They are not."

Her tone stopped him from picking up the datapad and he pulled back, watching her frame relax. He wondered if it was the subject or the fact he had reached for the datapad without first asking.

"Are they…?" Drift trailed off.

"I don't know," Shadebreaker said softly, frame slumping a little as the defensiveness left her. "I don't know if I will ever know."

"Are you not allowed to see them?" Drift asked with a frown. "If they raised you, they know about us, no?"

Shadebreaker laughed lightly, but it was a broken laugh filled with sadness. "Sure, if they had known I was…whatever I am."

"What do you mean?" Drift asked. "You are clearly Cybertronian."

Shadebreaker looked at one of her hands and then placed it over her spark, seeming to listen to her own spark pulse for a moment. As if confirming to herself the truth of his words. "Now I am, sure," she agreed. "There is a lot about me you do not yet know, Drift. About what Shockwave did." There was a growl in her voice when she said Shockwave's name. "I was not always the bot you see before you. My human family…they would not recognize me as I am."

"I'm afraid I don't understand," Drift frowned, tilting his helm. "What is it that Shockwave did? Even if he changed your frame, surely they would recognize your voice and your spark?"

Shadebreaker looked pained at that, tears in her optics. "No, they really wouldn't," she said softly, hand clenched over her spark.

Drift merely felt more confused.

"Well, anyways," Shadebreaker said, clearly wanting to move on. She waved at the datapads. "I have not done all this studying just for my sake. I thought, if you were interested, we could go over some stuff together as well?"

Drift considered for a moment. He had never been particularly religious himself, but he knew there was…something to the whole higher power stuff. He wasn't sure what, though. Maybe if he helped Shadebreaker with her own struggles on the subject, he would find a solution to his own. And she seemed to need this subject change, there was a look in her optics that said she was close to breaking if they stayed on the subject they were on.

"When I asked you if I could do anything to help, you taught me how to meditate, why?" Drift had asked Shadebreaker a couple days prior.

"Sometimes it is in helping others that we find how to help ourselves," Shadebreaker had replied. "You needed to find peace just as much as I. Plus…helping others is always the right thing to do. There is no greater thing than to help others, if you ask me. It is…soothing to the soul in ways nothing else can be."

Drift had found the explanation odd, but perhaps he would give it a try. "Perhaps a second pair of optics and an outsider's thoughts might help you sort through your crisis."

Shadebreaker smiled a bit at that. "A good enough reason to start," she said, accepting this offer. "But this…spiritualilty…having a relationship with that which transcends the physical…it is a very much personal thing. No one can force it upon you, though some might try. It is always good to have a study buddy, though. Even, perhaps, one who may not believe themselves."

Drift nodded in understanding at that.

Chromedome looked out over the blue water from his spot in the pilot's chair of the small ship he and Rewind had been given to use for their base transfer. They'd been requested quite suddenly by Optimus Prime himself for reasons yet unknown. More specifically, he had been requested. And where he went, Rewind followed.

"I don't like this," Rewind said from his co-pilot's chair. "You're always requested specifically for your skills in mnemosurgery. You know how I feel about it."

"I know, Love," Chromedome said gently, watching the waves far below them. "But I also know Optimus didn't request my presence lightly. He needed someone he could trust with a delicate task. And he has Ratchet on his team. Ratchet is more than capable of handling simple tasks of the processor. He wouldn't have reached out if he didn't need to. He knows I'm retired from mnemosurgery."

"In theory," Rewind crossed his arms. "Yet you keep responding to every request like your life depends upon it!"

Chromedome sighed sadly, spark squeezing in pain at the anger in his conjunx's tone. "I know, Love, I know," he said. "Let's hear them out, at least, ok? I really don't believe Optimus would've requested my help without good reason."

Rewind huffed. "We've come this far," he said. "But be careful about it."

"I know, Rewind," Chromedome said seriously, remembering the last time he hadn't been with a shudder. Mnemosurgery came with inherent risks on its own and sometimes the bots he performed it on were not entirely receptive. Or friendly.

They finished the trip in silence, each having their own thoughts on the matter as they came to an island in some remote part of the planet they'd been summoned to. After a brief conversation over the comm, Rewind input the codes into the ship's computers that would allow them to pass through the base's shielding.

They touched down on a tarmac that looked relatively new, brand new compared to most landing places they frequented in fact. After shutting all the systems down, they went out to the loading lift and lowered it, standing upon it as it did so.

"Welcome to Earth, Chromedome, Rewind," Optimus said when they approached where he stood with Prowl and Ratchet to greet them. "Thank you for coming."

"Of course, Prime," Chromedome said, searching the Prime's face for a moment for clues.

Optimus motioned toward Prowl. "I believe you have met Prowl."

"We've met," Chromedome nodded, nodding his helm to the enforcer. "Commander."

Prowl bowed his own helm in greeting. "It is pleasant to see you again," Prowl said. "I hope your stay on Earth proves more pleasant than not." There was a slight cynical edge to his tone that indicated he was not entirely thrilled about the reason Chromedome was here himself.

Chromedome tilted his helm a bit at that. He had never known Prowl to shy away from the idea of invading a mech's processor to extract information. The fact he seemed unhappy meant that was probably not what this was. Or perhaps he simply wished it was unnecessary because he was growing tired of the war.

"This is my Chief Medical Officer, Ratchet," Optimus moved on to introduce the medic to him properly. "He will be who you will be consulting with for…what I have asked of you."

Chromedome looked at the medic now, taking note of the heaviness that seemed to weigh on his shoulders. "Pleased to meet you, Ratchet," Chromedome said. "I have heard great things. It is a patient, then? That I am to work on?"

"With, Chromedome, with," Ratchet replied heavily. "And, fair warning, she may or may not be receptive…I haven't discussed it with her yet. I thought you would be able to explain it better and a better understanding might help her feel…more at ease…maybe." He sighed a bit.

"You didn't tell her you were getting a stranger to poke in her mind?" Rewind asked, giving Ratchet a look of scrutiny.

"I told her I was looking into something, but that I would explain when I had someone with more information to help do so. I didn't want her to get stressed out and worked up about it for too long," Ratchet replied, a defensive growl in his tone.

"Forgive my conjunx endura," Chromedome said, making placating hand motions. "He…has strong feelings on things like this."

"Oh I'm sure he'll get along with Shadebreaker swimmingly, then," Ratchet said dryly. "I'm sure if I didn't give her a heads up that I was looking into something she may find uncomfortable, she'd reem me over the helm for it."

Chromedome was curious who this femme was that Ratchet was talking about. As they moved away from the tarmac, he fell into step with the medic to discuss the patient in question in quiet tones.

Once they were at medbay, he thought he had a relatively good idea of why he was here. And a nudge over his bond told him that he had Rewind's permission to help the femme with what Ratchet was requesting. He wrapped his hand around the smaller mech's digits in gratitude, feeling sympathy in his spark for what the femme must've gone through as a Decepticon captive.

They walked into medbay to find a purple and silver femme with large bird-like wings talking to a white mech with fins on either side of his helm.

"Thank you, Wheeljack," the femme was saying softly, adjusting the orange visor across her optics. "I appreciate you making a new visor for me."

"Of course, Shade'," Wheeljack said cheerfully. "I understand your preference for the visor completely."

"Shade", who must've been Shadebreaker, smiled slightly at the mech, before glancing over as Chromedome moved further into medbay with Ratchet and Rewind—Optimus and Prowl had parted ways along the way, being required elsewhere.

Her wings shifted as they approached and she looked uncertainly between Chromedome and Ratchet. He got the strange sense that she had recognized him and knew what he did from the way her wings shifted closer to her frame and trembled slightly.

"I see Wheeljack finally saw fit to get you your visor," Ratchet said, tone lightly teasing. An attempt to ease the tension, Chromedome thought.

Shadebreaker nodded, but didn't speak.

Wheeljack looked between the parties. "I'll come back later, how's that?" He asked quietly.

"Sounds good, Jackie," Shadebreaker said quietly, giving the mech a strained smile.

Wheeljack placed a hand on her shoulder in a show of support before doing the same for Ratchet. Then he was leaving medbay.

"Alright," Ratchet sighed. "Anyways, Chromedome, Rewind, this is Shadebreaker. Shadebreaker, this is Chromedome and Rewind."

Shadebreaker held her hand out to them. "Good to meet you two," she said softly, tone genuine despite the clear discomfort she was in.

Chromedome shook her hand. "Good to meet you," he said.

"Yes," Rewind said as he took his turn shaking her hand as well. "Did Ratchet tell you why we're here?"

"Not…exactly," Shadebreaker said, tone careful.

"Why don't we sit down to discuss this?" Chromedome suggested gently, motioning toward the couches.

Shadebreaker sighed heavily and Chromedome suspected again that she knew where this was going despite Ratchet's less than forthcoming explanation. She didn't say anything, however, as she moved toward the couches.

Once the four of them were settled, Ratchet led the explanation. He started with explaining his findings about what the Decepticons had done to disable her T-cog's function—that a code had been placed in her processor to block her access to it. That he felt an expert was required to remove it without causing further damage than what had been done when the Decepticons had put it there.

"I…get that…I suppose," Shadebreaker muttered, her wings that had wrapped around her shoulders tightening a little bit.

"I know it is scary," Ratchet said, tone understanding as he placed a hand on her knee.

Shadebreaker's frame shuddered as Chromedome watched and she gusted air through her systems. "That's…an understatement, Ratchet." She said. "Is…is the T-cog the…only concern?"

"No." Ratchet said heavily. "You said it was Soundwave who poked into your helm, right?"

Shadebreaker gave another shudder and her frame continued to shake afterward. "Yeah."

"We also need to be sure he didn't leave anything else in your processor to be concerned about." Ratchet said gently. "While Soundwave is not an experienced mnemosurgeon and you said he retreated when you fought him pretty hard, he has been known to mess bots up mentally. While it's possible he treaded lightly out of fear of destroying the information Megatron seeks from you, it's still possible he did something you have not noticed yet."

Shadebreaker gusted air through her systems again. "Ok," she said quietly. Then she looked at Chromedome, almost hesitantly. "How…how does this work? And…what are the risks?"

Chromedome gave her a sympathetic look before launching into an explanation of how mnemosurgery works. She listened quietly with an attentive tilt of her helm and when he got to the part about the risks, about the fact he'd end up stirring up her memories as a side-effect, her wings trembled and tightened around her. And he didn't miss the fact Ratchet's hand tightened on her knee.

He wondered how much he was requested for his skill and how much was because Ratchet felt too close to the patient for something like this.

"Ok," Shadebreaker said quietly when he finished talking. "But…I can't help but notice…are there any risks to you?"

There it was again. That feeling that she knew exactly what he did and what it entailed. And what the risks were.

"You…are familiar with mnemosurgery," Chromedome said, tone careful.

"Kinda," Shadebreaker said, tone one of admitting something she had tried to keep hidden. She held a hand out, palm up. "But not…all of my prior knowledge to things has been…accurate. So…can I just…ask?"

Chromedome considered her for a long moment. "Will it affect whether you cooperate?"

"If there is a chance I could lessen the risk to you, I would like to do so," she said quietly, not truly answering the question. "I do not wish bots to suffer on my account."

"I know the risks involved to myself and I accept them," Chromedome said.

Shadebreaker glanced at Rewind. Not fully. It was barely even noticeable that she did so, but Chromedome saw it. Her helm tilted a miniscule amount toward his conjunx endura. She knew something. Perhaps everything he had just explained, and avoided explaining, she already had known.

"At least for this one last time," Chromedome said. "I am supposed to be retired."

Shadebreaker's wings shifted slightly and then lowered as she bowed her helm to him in acceptance.

"As for lowering the risks," Chromedome said gently. "All you need to do is not fight it."

Her frame shuddered. "That might be difficult," she said quietly. "My fight or flight reflexes lean heavily toward fight. But I do tend to have pretty good self control. I will endeavor to exercise it well." She seemed to think for a moment. "You…you said you will inevitably stir up memories?"

Chromedome nodded. "I will have to specifically go into the one where Soundwave entered the code to determine where to look."

"Just…so you are prepared, you might see some…unexpected and seemingly impossible things in my helm," Shadebreaker warned quietly. "And…it may get very rough. I have some very, very painful memories."

"I can imagine being a Decepticon prisoner was not kind to you," Chromedome said with understanding.

She gave him a rueful smile. "You have no idea."

Chromedome thought he had some idea. But the way Shadebreaker leaned heavily against Ratchet spoke of pain heavier than he'd seen for a while. Not since those days before he met Rewind. When he sat in that center providing bots with a way out. A way he'd intended to take. Yeah, he thought he had some idea of the pain she carried.

"If you want some time to get used to the idea of a bot you just met rooting around in your helm," Chromedome said carefully. "We can come back to this tomorrow."

Shadebreaker sighed and turned her helm to rest her forehead on Ratchet's shoulder. The medic rested his hand on her helm. "No," she said. "Then I will just have time to fret and worry about how the both of us will handle it. Better to get it over with so we can recover and process after."

Chromedome was not missing that she was putting them together in it. She definitely had some idea of the side effects he dealt with, he could tell.

"Unless you need time," she said. "You two just got here."

"We just recharged on the way in," Chromedome said. "This is about your wellbeing."

Shadebreaker looked to Rewind, as if seeing if he would protest.

"I understand your concerns," Rewind said. "And I appreciate you showing care toward Chromedome's wellbeing. But, like you said, waiting would just give us time to fret and worry." He paused. "And, since Chromedome is not being forthcoming on the risks to him, I will be. Mnemosurgeons can often experience flashbacks of the memories they file through in their patients. They will also eventually die. It's not a painless procedure for either party. And, if the patient is…malevolent…they can use the connection to damage the surgeon and fragment them."

Shadebreaker looked sad at that. Sad, but not surprised. "Thank you," she told Rewind. "For telling me." She looked back at Chromedome. "And thank you…for taking this risk…I do not like such risks being taken on my account…but…I can…understand the…call for it…" She glanced at Ratchet, who sighed heavily.

"Soundwave has caused a lot of damage," Chromedome said quietly. "It is better safe than sorry."

Shadebreaker sighed heavily. "Very well," she said in acceptance, spreading her hands out in front of her. "Whenever you are ready."

Chromedome stood, moving from the couch across from her to sit beside her now. He watched as her frame shook as he did so and she leaned more heavily into Ratchet as the medic wrapped an arm around her.

"Easy, Shade'," Ratchet said quietly, brushing her cheek. "He's here to help, not harm. Just remember that. You'll be ok."

Shadebreaker was silent, burying her face in Ratchet's chest as the mech held her. The medic looked over her shoulder at Chromedome and nodded.

Chromedome extended the needles from his fingertips with a soft click and watched as the femme's frame tensed and she pressed herself into Ratchet, away from him, frame shaking even more. He realized that despite agreeing to do the procedure, she was absolutely terrified.

"The longer you hesitate, the longer she will suffer, Chromedome," Ratchet said gently.

Chromedome gave the femme another sympathetic look before reaching over and inserting his needles at the base of her neck. She flinched the moment the needles touched her neck and he reached his other hand out to settle on her shoulder as both reassurance and to help Ratchet keep her still.

Chromedome looked around the white mindscape for a moment before settling on the uncertain and scared looking femme in front of him. She hugged herself and seemed almost afraid to look at him. As if looking at him and acknowledging his presence in her mind was too much for her.

Fear and pain were rolling off her in waves and the white scenery was wavering as memories fought to approach. He could feel her holding them back, however, with an almost desperate fervor.

"Easy, I'm here to help," he reminded her, reaching out with feelings of reassurance.

"I know that, but it's still scary," Shadebreaker said quietly. "The only mechs who have been in my helm have meant to hurt."

Flashes of Soundwave and of Shockwave flashed by before they were shoved away again, accompanied by unimaginable pain.

"I know, I understand," Chromedome said gently. "I am only here to find out what Soundwave may have done. I know it will be hard…but can you pull at your memories of when Soundwave was in your helm? I need to know what he did."

Shadebreaker shuddered. "I can try," she said quietly. "My mind likes to connect everything, so I will do my best to keep us on track. I apologize if we end up off it."

"I understand," Chromedome reiterated gently. "Many processors work like that. Especially when experiences are similar."

Shadebreaker gave him a rueful smile and he sensed a kind of sad amusement from her. "Pretty sure not many processors could go from very happy things to tragic tales of woes in less than a minute, but whatever you say, Chromedome. You're the one who's been inside helms."

Chromedome raised an optic ridge at that, but said nothing as the scenery changed from the stark white to the Nemesis. It wavered between events for a moment and he approached her, reaching a hand out to touch her shoulder, mirroring his touch out in the world, giving his support to focus on the desired memory.

The memory came into sharp focus then. They were in a cell. Shadebreaker hung from chains uncomfortably as she fought to maintain consciousness. Soundwave stood behind her, needles just sliding into the back of her neck.

Shadebreaker reached back to touch the back of her neck, but stopped as it was probably a reaction in the outside world to the memory and Ratchet had stopped her from tugging his own hand out. She shuddered and he sensed her desire to withdraw.

Chromedome squeezed her shoulder in reassurance. "You're ok," he said. "I got you. Not Soundwave. Not this time. Not ever again. Ok?"

"You can't be certain it won't ever be again," Shadebreaker said quietly, wrapping her arms around herself as tears rolled down her face as the scene changed to show what was happening inside her helm. "The 'Cons are after me. And I'm not gonna hide from them. Hiding from my problems is not my nature. Taking time to recover, yes. Hiding, no."

"But you will be stronger next time," Chromedome said. "Not so easily captured."

"Yes," She agreed with that, a determination entering her then and she looked up at the scene unfolding.

"He hid the code in a memory least visited," Chromedome said observationally. "Then….then he left, cause you forced him to when you fought…you fragmented him a little, good job for a bot with little experience. He didn't tamper anywhere else."

"A memory least visited, huh?" Shadebreaker asked, not wanting to dwell on the memory long enough to soak in Chromedome's praise about fragmenting the Decepticon. "There's…a lot of memories that could qualify….all of them painful…"

Chromedome felt the spark ache through the connection.

"Any clues?" Shadebreaker asked.

"Something about the beginning of it all," Chromedome said.

"Oh…I know where to go," she said. And the scenery began changing. "You may want to suspend your sense of disbelief."

Before Chromedome could ask he was met with the scene before him.

The first thing he saw was fire. The first he felt was fear, followed by heat and pain and desperation as he looked around through Shadebreaker's optics. Fire was consuming the buildings around him and people were running for their lives…

Wait…those were humans!

He looked at his—at Shadebreaker's—hand, and realized it was a human's hand.

"I told you to suspend your disbelief," Shadebreaker's voice came, humor rolling with it.

The humor was overshadowed by a great sadness that Chromedome could only compare to the feeling of loss he felt at having lost Cybertron, having lost everyone that mattered before Rewind.

Empathy rolled from Shadebreaker as she picked up his feelings that he found to compare to hers.

Before Chromedome could respond, he was being picked up by a hand. A Cybertronian hand. He looked down at it, startled as he felt the memory of fear and confusion. As human Shadebreaker reached for the ground—reached for anything to fight against this hand pulling her away from it—Chromedome felt a sense of surprise from the Shadebreaker that was his fellow observer.

"That's…not Shockwave's hand…" Shadebreaker said quietly, voice sounding stunned.

He paused at that.

"I spent years under that 'Cons scalpel after this," she said, explaining how she knew. "I assumed it had been him who had taken me. But…after all this time…I would know Shockwave's hand from anyone else's. This is not his."

"Do you recognize it?" Chromedome asked.

Shadebreaker was silent as the mech carried her human self. "I have a suspicion," she said and he felt the beginnings of anger building in her as they entered a portal. A portal with a lot of purple and blue swirling in it. "A strong suspicion."

Her human optics darted around the portal rapidly, taking in all the details. Then they looked over the hands holding her, trying to find a way to get the mech to release her. She coughed, rubbing at the soot of her face.

Then, finally, human Shadebreaker looked up at the face of her captor. Into blue optics surrounded by a silver helm, mouth set into a hardline. Those blue optics looked back at her filled with pain and regret.

"Where are you taking me?" Human Shadebreaker asked.

"You will see," the mech replied.

"Why did you take me?" Human Shadebreaker asked, tone angry.

"In due time, Little Wing," the mech said.

Shadebreaker growled in Chromedome's helm. "That fraggin'...what the actual fuck?!" She asked angrily. "Is this memory real?! Can you tell?"

The force of her emotions were almost enough to knock Chromedome over. "You need to calm yourself, then I can check."

She gusted air through her systems and he could feel her shuddering in the real world as she wrestled with herself. After a moment the emotions dulled to a mute roar and Chromedome could focus again. He did the checks for tampering alongside all the checks he was previously doing as the memory continued to play out.

The mech eventually exited the portal and that's when Shockwave did make an appearance.

"Have you brought the specimen?" Shockwave asked the mech, who was clearly much, much larger than the scientist.

"This is a one time deal, remember that. This is the only human it will even work with," the mech said, handing off human Shadebreaker. "And make sure you dull this memory, so she doesn't know I am the one who took her."

"Only dull?" Shockwave asked. "I could remove it entirely."

"I only wish it dulled," the mech said. "If you remove it entirely, she will seek answers and find the truth more assuredly. If you dull it she will simply assume you to be the mech who took her."

"Understood," Shockwave said.

"You will let me know of your progress," the mech said.

"If it is logical for you to know," Shockwave replied.

"Got it," Chromedome said as the mech who'd taken her frowned at the Decepticon scientist. "I have taken care of the code Soundwave installed. Nothing else seems out of order."

"Nothing?" Shadebreaker asked and he wasn't entirely sure how to read her tone.

"Nothing," he said. "I'm afraid the only thing that appears to have been done here was a dulling, which was undone through the very act of visiting it in this manner."

Shadebreaker was silent. "Understood. Shall we leave my helm, then?"

"It seems best." Chromedome said, sensing she was barely keeping a hold on her emotions.

Chromedome pulled out from Shadebreaker's neck, feeling heavy from the emotions and pain he'd felt from her. Rewind was by his side in an instant as he retracted his needles and watched as Shadebreaker shook, wings flaring and unflaring as if she couldn't figure out what emotion to feel first.

"Shh," Ratchet soothed, rubbing her back. "It's ok."

"No it bloody well isn't, Ratchet," Shadebreaker said hotly, tone tight. Her frame shook and she leaned forward, pressing the heels of her palms against her forehead.

Ratchet frowned and then looked at Chromedome for an explanation.

"Soundwave had hidden the code in a memory," Chromedome said carefully, watching as Shadebreaker shook, wings shifting as they struggled to figure out what they were supposed to be doing with the whirlwind of emotions. "The memory of when she was taken from her human home."

"Of when Shockwave took her," Ratchet said in understanding.

"Except it wasn't Shockwave," Shadebreaker said, lifting her helm and spreading her fingers, her wings splaying lightly in reflection of her hands.

"What?" Ratchet asked.

"Fraggin' Vector apparently grabbed me then, took me to Shockwave and had him dull my memory enough that I wouldn't remember clearly who took me, but remember enough that I would just assume it was Shockwave instead of poking into it too much to discover the truth," Shadebreaker said, tone still hot and angry. "And it's a real memory, Chromedome checked for me. So I could, you know, not be absolutely pissed off for no reason."

"Who's Vector?" Rewind asked carefully.

"Vector Prime," Shadebreaker said. "A mech I apparently share CNA with. Apparently my kidnapper and the real source of all my fucking suffering since my journey into being Cybertronian began."

"Vector Prime? As in…as in the Vector Prime?" Rewind asked.

"Yes," Ratchet said dryly. "There's…still a lot of questions surrounding her relationship to him, but CNA doesn't lie."

"And now there's more questions," Shadebreaker said, rubbing her forehead. "Gah, my helm hurts." Then she inhaled, sitting up straight as if bracing herself to face the future. She then gave a long exhale before tilting her helm to look at Chromedome. "Thank you…for doing that…I'm…sorry the pain it caused you. I know that was not easy and…I'm sorry my emotions got out of control there for a minute and…it must've…I'm sorry."

"It's ok," Chromedome said, wrapping his hand around Rewind's as the smaller mech slipped a hand into his for support. "I understand. If I were you, I'd be pretty furious and hurt too." He looked at Rewind for a moment and then back at her.

"I don't mind you sharing what you saw with him," Shadebreaker said softly before he could even ask. "I can see you are partners. Partners are there to help support each other. I would honestly expect anything I tell one to be heard by the other."

Chromedome nodded, stunned at the willingness to let him share something like that.

"Come on," Ratchet said gently, nudging Shadebreaker up. "Let's get you both some pain meds. I'm sure both of your helms hurt."

"Oh yeah," Chromedome agreed. "Mine is killing me. Nothing like pure rage from a bot you are mentally interfacing with to give you a massive helm ache."

Shadebreaker flinched. "I am sorry," she said, sounding genuinely upset.

"It's ok," Chromedome said. "It could've been much worse than a helmache. You calmed down pretty quickly."

"I bottled my emotions, more like," Shadebreaker said dryly as they stood. "Such strong emotion cannot be so easily calmed. I am merely holding it at bay to deal with later. When no one will be hurt by it."

"That's understandable," Chromedome said as they moved with Ratchet toward the cupboards.

Ratchet left Shadebreaker's side to gather pain meds. "Are you resistant to any pain meds or know a type most effective for these types of helm aches, Chromedome?" He asked.

Chromedome answered him quickly, watching him prepare a pain med in a syringe slightly hidden. He saw Shadebreaker idly looking anywhere but at Ratchet in the corner of his optics.

"We have that, fortunately," Ratchet said. He motioned. "Shade'."

Shadebreaker stepped closer to him without looking, frame shaking. "I wish your new formula was a pill." She muttered.

"I know," Ratchet said softly as he took her arm in his hands.

"Especially since I just sat with needles in my neck for ages," Shadebreaker griped.

"I know," Ratchet said. "But you're handling it. You've come a very long way from wanting to run out of my medbay."

"Because I trust you," Shadebreaker replied, looking up at the ceiling and flinching when Ratchet inserted the needle. "And because screw the 'Cons that made me afraid. They can't win forever."

Ratchet chuckled. "No power quite like those of trust and spite, huh?" He asked, rubbing her arm after retracting the needle.

"Indeed," Shadebreaker agreed.

"There you go," Ratchet said gently as he replaced her armor.

"Thank you," Shadebreaker said. "Can I retreat to my room? I need some time to process what I learned in there. Before I end up taking it out on someone."

"Go ahead," Ratchet said. "Comm me if you need me."

"Yes sir," Shadebreaker said.

Chromedome watched her leave, concern on his face for the way her wings had finally settled into a lowered position, nearly dragging the edges on the ground.

"Will she be alright?" Rewind asked as Ratchet prepared a shot for Chromedome.

"She's resilient," Ratchet said confidently. "Ok is relative. She will be alright in time. She just needs to process and be reminded that she has support from her friends. She doesn't need to shoulder it all by herself, as much as she seems to think she does."

"Should we really be letting her go off by herself?" Chromedome asked.

"She won't leave medbay," Ratchet said, turning toward Chromedome and motioning him closer. "She's been very good about waiting for my go ahead for that. And as long as she is in medbay, I can check on her often enough through the cams before she could do any serious harm to herself. Not that she is in the habit of doing so, anyways."

Chromedome nodded. "If you are sure," he said.

"I will check on her shortly," Ratchet assured as he administered Chromedome's painkiller.

Chromedome watched Ratchet as he finished up and then replaced his armor without rubbing the area quite as long as he had Shadebreaker's arm. He shared a look with Rewind, nudging him slightly over their bond.

Rewind sent a confirmatory feeling, tilting his helm. He had seen it, too. If the two bots weren't conjunx enduras, they were very close.

"So," Chromedome said. "Out of curiosity. Is she your conjunx endura?"

Ratchet paused, having turned his back to them to clean up. He didn't turn to look at them. "No," he said softly. "She's…just a friend."

Chromedome shared another look with Rewind, then looked back at the way Ratchet seemed to sag a little. Not a conjunx endura, but he wanted her to be. At least, he was fairly sure.

Chapter Text

Chapter 23: Some Human Recruitment

Admiral Hackett, head of the Department for Homeland Defense Against Extraterrestrials, walked down a corridor with Agent Fowler. They were heading to meet a man who could potentially aid with their mission.

"Are you sure he will be willing to cooperate?" Fowler asked, voicing his skepticism. "I doubt Stark will work with us if he thinks we've stolen his tech."

"We haven't stolen his tech, Agent Fowler," Hackett replied. "And I have no doubt he will notice the technology we will be showing him isn't made by human hands. He will understand the threat. Especially given his own encounter in Europe."

"But will he understand that not all of them are enemies?" Fowler asked.

"That's why you are here, Agent Fowler," Hackett replied. "You brought the files on them?"

"I did," Fowler said. "Though I am not convinced allowing him to know of Shadebreaker's knowledge of the future is wise."

"Tony Stark is a genius, Agent Fowler," Hackett said. "And no doubt he will have contact with the Autobots at some point. He will find out on his own if we do not tell him. If we are not upfront with him, he is liable to go rogue, you know that."

"Understood, Admiral," Fowler replied with a sigh. "In that case I will go set up. I will speak to you whenever you decide the time is right to tell Stark."

"Of course Agent Fowler," Hackett replied.

The two parted ways and Hackett continued on the way to the briefing room they had Tony Stark waiting in. When he arrived, the guards outside allowed him inside and he couldn't help but be amused by the staredown going on between the two men sitting at the table.

"Mr. Stark I don't think you understand the threat we are dealing with," Theodore Galloway, National Security Advisor to the president, said.

"No, you don't understand," Stark replied. "I am not building you weapons. Especially not if you won't even tell me what we're dealing with."

"That's classified information," Galloway said.

"I believe I will decide what Mr. Stark will be told, Mr. Galloway," Hackett said, making his presence known. "Who the hell let you in here?"

"I am the president's advisor, I go where I wish," Galloway countered, standing.

"And we've been warned about you," Hackett said, not being intimidated. "All you want is weapons of mass destruction. Which is precisely what got you kicked off the island. That is not why Mr. Stark is here. Now make this easy and leave the building or my men will escort you out."

"We wouldn't be in this pickle if your friends weren't here," Galloway said, grabbing his jacket and looking hot.

"You have a right to your opinion, sir," Hackett said. "But this is my debriefing room and I make the decisions about what happens in my task force. The Autobots have made it clear we are not to use their technology for weapons. We are not recruiting Mr. Stark to subdue that arrangement."

"It's a mistake if you ask me," Galloway said, making his anger clear. "One day they're gonna turn on us."

"Your concern is noted," Hackett said. "Now are you leaving or do we have to throw you out like Major Lennox did when you tried to subdue his mission in China?"

Galloway bristled visibly. "Just so you know, I will have the Major court martialed for that."

"Sure you will," Hackett said as Galloway was pushed out of the room by the guards.

"The president will hear about this!" Galloway called from the hall just as a young man in military garb walked into the room.

"So," Stark said, bringing the admiral's attention to him. "If I am not here to make weapons, which I do not do anymore, then why am I here?"

"You are here," Hackett replied. "To aid us in the defense of our world against a threat of an interplanetary scale. We face a special kind of enemy. One that requires special kinds of allies."

"I'm not agreeing to anything until you tell me what it is that Galloway wouldn't tell me," Stark replied.

Hackett looked at Stark for a moment, analyzing him. He then motioned toward the door. "If you would follow me, Mr. Stark, all will be revealed," he answered.

Admiral Hackett waited about ten feet away from the door between the room they were in and the hallway on the other side. He stood a few feet away from the remains of Decepticons that filled the room. While they were prevented from making weapons out of their findings by the treaty with the Autobots, they studied the technology in hopes of furthering other aspects of technology—environmentally safe cars and general advancements that would wreak less havoc on the environment while at the same time be more efficient.

Hackett was waiting for Tony Stark to finish his examinations of the remains. Every now and then the former weapons engineer would make a comment about the kind of technology he was looking at. After several minutes Stark walked back over toward Hackett.

"You need to tell me where all this came from, because it is clearly not made by humans," Stark said. He waved his hands at the remains. "A lot of this is more advanced than even my technology, so I can't even accuse you of stealing my tech. So spill it big guy. What's your secret?"

"Don't play coy, Mr. Stark," Hackett replied. "We know you encountered one of these guys in Europe some years back. While testing one of your 'flight' suits."

Stark fidgeted with the pen in his hand as he considered Hackett, biting his lip. He thought he had recognized one of the corpses—for he did believe them to be more than mere machines. "What are you? Spying on me now?"

"We have kept tabs on all humans who may or may not have had contact with any Cybertronian being at any point in time," Hackett replied vaguely. "That doesn't just include you."

Stark narrowed his eyes at Hackett, turning his words over in his mind.

"You think you're the only civilian to get caught in the crosshairs?" Hackett asked. "Be thankful you came out unscathed."

"You lost some, didn't you?" Stark asked.

"No, not yet," Hackett replied. "We have lost men, though. Good men. In the fight. Though, I won't lie, there's one civilian skeptical enough of us I fear we might. He refuses to allow us to take him and his daughter into protection. He has, by some miracle, not had a run in with the Decepticons like you have and has remained safe thus far."

Stark considered Hackett for a long moment. The man looked tired. Like a father who spent his days chasing after kids bound and determined to get themselves killed. "Alright, well, back to the point, sir," he said, twirling the pen in his hand and crossing his arms to move the topic away from the stubborn civilian. "You're saying that incident in Europe wasn't isolated."

"I am sure you heard about the incident in Shamsi back in 2007," Hackett said, watching Stark for his reaction.

"Yeah, I did," Stark said. "A giant robot crashed right next to a nuclear factory, almost causing a nationwide tragedy. It took out several U.S. soldiers and the government covered it up, made it look like an asteroid hit the center of the base."

Hackett nodded. "That was a crashing alien from another planet," he reported. "A Decepticon sent to scout our world to see if it was useful. He's now sitting behind you."

Stark looked back at the remains of the Decepticon with his usual detachment, then back at Hackett. "Let me guess, they found something they wanted and more arrived."

Hackett nodded. "More Decepticons arrived and on their tail the Autobots arrived," he said. "At first we thought they were enemies as well. Until they saved a squad of soldiers from a Decepticon strike on their camp."

"That's the second time you've mentioned Autobots," Stark said. "Who exactly are they?"

"If you would follow me to the debriefing room, we will explain everything to you in more detail," Hackett said, already turning to head out the door.

Stark looked like he might protest being taken to another room, but he shrugged and followed behind. He could just hack into their database and find out anything Hackett didn't tell him. He wouldn't agree to anything until he knew what he was being asked to do.

Hackett led Stark through numerous halls until he reached the debriefing room Agent Fowler had gone to set up. When he led the genius into the room, Agent Fowler was struggling with a projector, trying to get it to work.

"In the name of Uncle Sam's beard, work!" Fowler growled and smacked the projector.

"I don't think that's gonna fix it," Stark commented off-handedly as he looked around the room.

"Now I understand why Ratchet is always grumbling about our tech," Fowler said. "It never works right."

"Is everything ready to debrief Mr. Stark?" Hackett asked.

"As soon as I get this thing to work," Fowler said, adjusting a couple things on the projector. He set it down and it started to work before dying. "For Lady Liberty's sake! Is it too much to ask for a new projector?!"

"Here, let me see it," Stark said, walking over. He picked up the projector and tweaked a few things before setting it back down and pressing the 'on' button.

The projector whirled to life and displayed an image on the white screen Fowler had set up in front of it. The image was of a file on the Autobots, detailing a report about first contact.

"So what am I looking at here?" Stark asked, leaning against the table the projector was sitting on. He picked up a pen and started clicking it like a child who couldn't sit still during class.

"This is the report filed by then Second Lieutenant Lennox back in 2007, when the Autobots saved his squad from a Decepticon attack," Fowler answered.

"His squad was stationed in Shamsi to help locate and take out the threat that arrived a few weeks before the Autobots arrived," Hackett said. "They were returning from patrol when a Decepticon by the name of Dead End attacked them."

"Lennox lost two of his squad before a large blue and pink femme by the name of Arcee arrived," Fowler started to continue the story. He pressed a button on a remote and the image changed to show a picture of Arcee locked in combat with Dead End, taken by Corporal Epps at the scene. Stark blinked at the image and the obvious differences between Arcee and Dead End that looked distinctly like gender differences.

Stark tilted his head at the image, still blinking. "Do they have genders? Because I know of no men with hips and a chest like that. Well, besides Obadiah. At least on the chest part. Always told him to lose weight."

"Let's try and stay on task here, Mr. Stark," Hackett said long-sufferingly. "You can ask questions at the end of the slideshow."

"Oh yes, please continue," Stark answered. "But I will certainly be asking questions."

"The fight itself only lasted a few minutes," Hackett noted, pointing out the timestamp on the picture and then the one taken at the end of the fight. "Dead End wasn't much of a threat to Arcee."

"She's a good fighter, then?" Stark asked.

Hackett gave him a flat look. "Very."

"After Arcee saved Lennox's squad, we made first contact with the team," Fowler picked up from where he had left off. He changed the picture to show the six Autobots that had made up the team back then. "Ever since we have had a tentative alliance with them and we even have experienced three years hearing almost nothing from the Decepticons. They had a couple new arrivals during that time that unfortunately also met their end during the few scuffles, but it was mostly peaceful. During that time the Autobots mostly searched for resources to sustain themselves and aided us in advancing some of our technologies."

"I recall you saying they wouldn't allow you to make weapons with their technology," Stark commented, looking at Hackett curiously.

Hackett nodded. "It is part of our agreement," he said. "Idiots like Galloway are always trying to get them to budge, but Optimus Prime refuses. He believes giving us their weapons will do more harm than good."

"Who's Optimus Prime?" Stark asked.

"Their leader," Hackett answered, nodding toward the image of the team and circling the Prime with a laser pointer. "He was the one who agreed to help develop some of our technology, and refuses to allow us to examine most of theirs."

"Well, I can't blame him there," Stark said.

"I can't say that I do either," Fowler replied. He turned to the screen and clicked a button to show a picture of the Nemesis. "Recently the Decepticons have become more active and the Autobots have foiled their plots a number of times since their re-emergence. They have suffered loss in protecting Earth from this threat, but their team has also grown in recent months." The picture changed to show the seventeen current residents.

"Wasn't there a different red one before?" Stark asked, analyzing the photo.

Fowler nodded and changed the photo to show Cliffjumper's file. "His name was Cliffjumper," he reported. "He was lost just over a year ago when the Decepticons reared their ugly heads from wherever they were hiding. He was a little hot headed and a good fighter. Unfortunately he met his end while protecting an injured bot who had just arrived on the planet while fleeing from the Decepticons. Stabbed straight through the spark. Nothing Ratchet could do about that."

"It's like if you or I were to be stabbed in the heart," Hackett explained. "If you completely destroy the organ, you can't save it. Not like yours, where you can mitigate the damage." He motioned at the mini arc-reactor sitting in Stark's chest, hidden by the layers of clothing.

Stark frowned, but chose not to comment on how the man had known about the arc reactor. He had been very careful since Obadiah's betrayal not to share its existence with anyone.

"Can I get a head count of who we'll be working with and who is our enemy?" Stark asked. "If I'm to help with anything, I will not be kept in the dark."

Hackett and Fowler shared a look before Fowler looked back at Stark. "We anticipated that, so I took the liberty of creating dossiers," Fowler answered. "We'll start with Optimus Prime, the leader of the bunch."

Fowler changed the picture to show the file on Optimus. "Optimus Prime is a steadfast leader and from what I can tell, all of the Autobots under him admire him. He inspires the kind of loyalty that would have you jumping off a bridge if he asked it, if only because there would be something there to catch you or he wouldn't ask it of you."

Fowler played a clip of Optimus in one of the skirmishes. It was clear that Optimus did his best to be sure no bot under his command came into anymore harm than necessary.

"He's led the Autobots through the war since the beginning and eventually led them here when the Decepticons began to threaten our planet," Hackett added. "He's proven to be very determined to keep our planet from suffering the same fate as Cybertron."

"What happened to Cybertron?" Stark asked.

"It was ravaged by war and can no longer support life," Fowler replied. "Optimus has made it clear he does not intend to allow that to happen to us. It is part of the reason he refuses to allow us access to their weapons technology."

"I noticed those corpses seemed to be stripped of some of their technology," Stark said. "I'm assuming that's their doing."

Hackett nodded. "Before being shipped here, the Autobots salvage what they need and remove anything that could be turned into a weapon," he replied. "With such limited resources they can use, they have to get certain supplies anyway they can."

"None of them seem particularly happy about cannibalizing their fellow Cybertronians," Fowler said. "Even if they are evil."

The clips shifted to show a pink bot, clearly female, if they had genders, like the blue one before. This one was in what appeared to be a friendly sparring match with said blue femme.

"Optimus's…" Fowler hesitated, looking at Stark before continuing. "...sparkmate is next on the docket."

"They do have genders, then," Stark said in mild interest. Then he furrowed his brows. "Wait…you said sparkmate? What's that?"

"Think spouse, Mr. Stark," Hackett replied.

"Ah," Stark said. Then he waved his hand. "Carry on."

"Her name is Elita-1," Fowler said. "She's the femme's commanding officer. If they need anything specific that a mech can't handle, they go to her. She's also the Autobot's language specialist. If there's ever a translation error, she's the bot to turn to for help."

A clip of her diffusing some tensions between a couple mechs and a group of humans with the ease of a person used to playing mediator between those who often misunderstood each other. She bowed graciously to the humans after things were settled.

Fowler changed the picture to show the file on Arcee. "You saw Arcee earlier," he said. "She's significantly smaller than some of the others, even her sisters for reasons I'm unaware of, but she's no less deadly to the enemy."

He played a clip, showing Arcee in a battle of her own, taking out a group of Vehicons with practiced ease. She moved swiftly and gracefully with a deadly precision that Stark couldn't help but admire. Her expression was fierce as she tore into the enemy.

"A femme of few words, she gets the job done without question, and gets it done well. She was partnered with Cliffjumper before he was killed, and was hit hardest when he passed. She is guardian to Jackson Darby, a civilian who got caught up in the mix when the Decepticons got hold of some…delicate information." He switched the picture to one of Jack riding on Arcee's motorcycle form through their current base.

"You guys have civilians involved in this? Children?" Stark asked.

"The Decepticons assumed they were allies of the Autobots when they acquired information that made them believe so, without concern whether that information was accurate or not," Hackett answered. "Optimus feels it best to keep the children under their protection. If the Decepticons went after them again, they would be helpless."

"Besides Jack, there is also Rafael," Fowler said, displaying a picture of Raf looking concentrated on a laptop. "He's a lot like you, Stark, minus the womanizing. He provides a lot of technical support for Ratchet and Wheeljack when the need arises, since they have problems with the human technology required to make the base run. At twelve, I would say he is quite impressive."

"His guardian is Bumblebee, the team scout," Hackett added as Fowler put up a video of the yellow and black mech with Raf sitting on his shoulder.

They were chatting, the yellow mech bobbing his helm and motioning with his hands as he buzzed away to Raf as the child listened attentively with a happy look on his face.

"While Arcee is a bot of few words, Bumblebee doesn't speak at all, that we can understand," Fowler provided. "For good reason. The poor kid got his voicebox ripped out back during the war by Megatron himself. It was damaged beyond repair and Bumblebee only speaks in beeps and whistles because of it. Only the bots and Rafael can understand him. The warrior in training has more than proved himself in battle, you gotta wonder why he hasn't been promoted." Fowler played a clip of Bumblebee taking on a whole squad of Vehicons by himself before being backed up by a larger mech that was mostly an army green.

"The big guy is Bulkhead," Hackett supplied as Fowler paused the clip and zoomed in on Bulkhead.

"Bulkhead's the first to admit he's no rocket scientist," Fowler said. "But what he lacks in brain power, he more than makes up in brute strength." He paused to play a clip of Bulkhead pummeling a larger Decepticon, coming out of the match on top. "He's straight out of the Wreckers, the bots' version of Black Ops and there's very few missions you wouldn't want him on. He was missing for some time, but we're all glad he's back in the fold. None more so than his ward, Miko Nakadai." A picture appeared of Miko with a guitar in her hands.

"Miko, from what I understand of Optimus and Fowler's reports, is the reckless one of the bunch," Hackett supplied. "She has tried on numerous occasions to accompany the bots on their missions, but luckily, with Jack's mother around and so many human soldiers, there's always enough people on hand to keep her from endangering herself. She does enjoy sneaking off to areas more frequented by bots over humans, though. I wouldn't be surprised if one day she becomes a liaison herself for them."

A clip played of her sitting happily on Bulkhead's shoulder as she spoke with him and a few other bots. The next thing to appear was a picture of Miko sleeping atop a purple and silver bot with wings, one of which was draped over the girl like a blanket.

"Aw, well that's cute," Stark couldn't help but say. He reached for the coffee he had been provided. "Who's the winged bot?"

"That would be Shadebreaker," Fowler replied. "We're gonna get to her later. For now, we'll move on to Ratchet."

A clip played of a white bot with red markings, some clearly reminiscent of those on ambulances, turning from a counter to raise an optic ridge at the camera. He rolled his optics when told it was for some documentation while saying "Puh-lease."

"He covers much of the science aspect," Fowler said. "The medic of the team, he can be tightly wound and is known for throwing wrenches. He brings his a-game when the situation calls for it, but he is mostly in a supportive role. Despite his rough nature, he has a reputation as the best medic the Autobots could ask for and has a gentler side you can see when he works with his patients, especially one in particular."

Stark raised an eyebrow. Something about Fowler's tone there made him suspect there was something going on with the medic and that one patient in particular.

Fowler played a clip of Ratchet working in the medbay, repairing some damage done to one of the bots. Stark could see what he had meant when he said the doc had a gentle touch toward his patients. He suspected this was not the special one, however, and he was curious who he was talking about.

"The Autobots also have a set of twins on their team, known as Sunstreaker and Sideswipe," Hackett reported.

Fowler changed the picture and showed a picture of a red mech side by side with a yellow mech. The red mech had a huge grin plastered on his face while the yellow one seemed to have an eternal scowl. "They are quite the mischievous pair, known for their pranks," Fowler said. "Despite their immaturity off of the battlefield, on it they are quite the force to be reckoned with. They're frontliners and I certainly wouldn't want to be on their bad side." A clip played of them tearing up a battlefield just on their own.

"You called them twins?" Stark asked.

"I believe Ratchet described them specifically as split spark twins," Fowler answered. "I'm not entirely sure how that makes them different from regular twins."

Stark bit the end of the pen he held in thought.

"Sideswipe is the kinder of the two and I'm convinced he got most of the nice genes," Fowler said dryly. "Sunstreaker has a mean streak that makes me worry about what kind of trouble he may cause under the right circumstances."

An image appeared of the mech scowling darkly at another in medbay while the winged bot from before glared defensively at him. The next image was of Sideswipe snuggling the winged bot to comfort her as she appeared to be in some kind of pain.

"Next on the line up is Ironhide," Hackett said, bringing up a picture of an all black mech. "Their Weapons Specialist, Ironhide maintains the armory and knows every weapon inside and out. He's also a blacksmith and makes armor for the bots, though his forge isn't quite up and running yet. He packs a punch on the battlefield and is one of the most intimidating members of Optimus's team. He is not one you want to aim a weapon at."

A clip was played of Ironhide on the battlefield. His favorite weapons seemed to be a couple large cannons mounted on his arms and at one point in the clip he ripped one of the larger Decepticons in two with his bare hands.

"But when it comes to dealing with his fellow bots he can be one of the gentlest and kindest out there," Fowler supplied more optimistically. "Always offering comfort or guidance to anybot who may need it. Much like Optimus does."

The next clips were of the mech speaking kindly to Bumblebee as the yellow mech looked sullen, offering words of encouragement and guidance in a gentle tone. Another of the mech wrapping the winged bot in a firm hug as her wings were held low and she buried her face in his chest. A third of the mech gently chiding a white, black and gold mech for crossing a line he shouldn't have.

"Ironhide also has a sparkmate," Fowler said, changing the clip to show a light blue femme with a smirk on her face as she brandished a weapon before turning and running into a battlefield. "The fiery Chromia. Every bit the same force of nature as her mate on the battlefield, she proves the make doesn't make the warrior."

Stark couldn't help but agree. Where Arcee had been fierce in her own right, Chromia took it to a whole new level. Her enemies hardly stood a chance.

"She can be rough around the edges," Fowler said, rubbing his head. "I have yet to have a truly pleasant conversation with her, though I can tell she cares a great deal for her fellow bots. I don't think she means anything by it, she's just not one to trust."

"Which is understandable, given how long they have been at war," Hackett said.

Fowler nodded in agreement to that.

"Prowl is Optimus's second-in-command and a very strict law enforcer," Hackett continued as Fowler flipped to show a clip of a black and white mech with a very stern looking face. "He's by the book down to the dots and is a very capable soldier."

"Prowl runs almost entirely on logic," Fowler said. "If something is too illogical, he'll crash." He played a clip of Prowl freezing and falling over as some of the other bots hovered over his fallen frame. "It's like an overrun computer with a glitch in its system. Ratchet has said that his logical center is overdeveloped, causing this glitch that causes him to crash when faced with extreme illogicalness."

It changed to a silver mech laughing at a joke someone said and then grinning widely as he said something in return.

"Jazz is the sabotage expert," Hackett said. "He's also quite a good spy."

"I wouldn't want him to have cause to blackmail me," Fowler said dryly. "He's a reliable soldier. He has a southern-sounding accent he speaks in, though if he drops it that's when you know it's gotten serious. He's fun-loving and Prowl's polar opposite. Despite this, the two seem to be very good friends. He's also one of the best soldiers I've ever met."

A clip played of Jazz casually talking with the other bots. It was clear he was one of the more cheerful bots and to Stark it appeared that he was the team's moral support, acting to cheer up those around him.

"The next one on our list is a mech named Wheeljack," Hackett explained as Fowler played a clip of Wheeljack working on something before it exploded. "He is known for having his first prototype of anything explode."

"If he invented a pen, it would explode," Fowler put in as a clip played of the mech being seen to by an annoyed Ratchet, the inventor rubbing his helm sheepishly. "As the Autobot's inventor, it is wise to stay out of his lab while a project is underway, unless it is tempered by Ratchet's more cautious approach. He's created a number of useful gadgets for the Autobots, sometimes aided by the medic. I have heard numerous recountings of inventions the mech has created before, during and after the war on Cybertron."

"Next we have Rewind and Chromedome," Fowler continued, flipping to a picture of a mech with a smaller mech draped over his shoulders, clearly nuzzling him. "It's hard to talk about one without the other. The most recent arrivals, they are sparkmates."

"That's a height difference," Stark commented when a clip played of the two walking side by side.

Fowler was mildly surprised that was the chosen topic. "Some things aren't as much concern for Cybertronians as they are for us humans," he said, clearing his throat. He adjusted his tie a little bit, willing himself not to think about it. "They are both adults, I assure you."

Stark looked at Fowler. "So they can make babies."

"Mr. Stark," Hackett sighed as Fowler coughed awkwardly into the side of his fist. "Do try to keep focus here."

Stark made a conceding motion, chewing on his pen. He would play along. For now, at least.

"Back on topic, if you would, Agent Fowler," Hackett motioned.

"Right," Fowler cleared his throat. "Rewind is an archivist. It's rare that he isn't recording everything going on around him. If you have doubts about a story, it's possible he could collaborate for you if he was there."

The clip showed a closeup of the smaller mech's face with a little red light on to indicate he was recording the event taking place in front of him. Then it panned up to show the taller mech, Chromedome, as he talked to Ratchet in quiet tones the camera wasn't picking up.

"His partner," Fowler continued. "Chromedome is a retired mnemosurgeon, that is a Cybertronian specializing in intruding upon the Cybertronian mind to view their memories. He was brought in recently in order to help with some trouble Shadebreaker was having with her T-cog after a recent captivity she suffered at the hands of the Decepticons."

A clip played of the mech sat on a couch next to Shadebreaker, hand on her neck with something extended from his fingers into it while Ratchet held her comfortingly from her other side and Rewind rested a hand supportively on Chromedome's knee. Shadebreaker's frame was visibly shaking and Chromedome himself looked distressed. The clip was moved past quickly.

"That looked rather invasive," Stark said with a frown as the clip came to an end.

"It is," Fowler said with a heavy sigh. "He's retired for a reason. Mnemosurgery comes with a lot of risks. One of which is death to the surgeon with little to no warning. He did it for Shadebreaker because of the risk assessment made of not knowing what the Decepticons may have done in her processor. It was rough on them both, however, and I am told Shadebreaker hid away afterwards, having not emerged yet by the time I left base to come here."

"I don't blame her," Stark said. "I wouldn't talk to anyone after that either. What's her deal anyways?"

"Not yet," Hackett said. "One more before we get to her."

Stark frowned, wondering why they were insisting on saving this Shadebreaker for last.

"This next one is a bit different," Fowler said, pulling up a clip of the white, black and gold mech seen briefly in a couple earlier clips. It was now that the different insignia was clear in the image. "Drift, as he is now known, was once a Decepticon. He came to us on the run from them, out to defect. Many of the bots do not trust him yet, but Optimus believes his change is genuine and he seems to be taking guidance from those around him to spark."

A clip played of him sitting in the courtyard, cross legged across from Shadebreaker as she spoke to him in soft tones, explaining something to him. It changed again to him listening attentively to Ratchet as the medic lectured him about something he'd clearly done wrong and then promising to endeavor not to repeat the action. Then another clip played of him and Shadebreaker studying an array of datapads together.

"He spend a lot of time with Shadebreaker?" Stark asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Shadebreaker has become something of a mentor to him." Fowler said, sounding amused. "I asked him once and he said he was her Padawan."

Stark chuckled lightly.

"He's still medbay bound, having been heavily damaged when he came to us, but he's been respectful anytime I have encountered him," Fowler said.

"And now we move onto Shadebreaker," Hackett said. "Perhaps the most enigmatic of the bots."

"Enigmatic?" Stark asked.

"Her story is a bit of a mystery," Fowler said. "Hailing from another reality, she arrived here on the run from the 'Cons herself. Bearing knowledge of the future and, I'm told, a connection to the mysterious Guardian of Time and Space."

"Knowledge of the future?" Stark asked in mild disbelief.

"I'm unaware of all of the details," Fowler said. He played a clip of Shadebreaker holding a datapad up as she considered it and then looked at another one among several scattered on a makeshift table in what appeared to be a tent. "But she has used this knowledge to point us to several Cybertronian artifacts to aid us in defense of our planet and keep them out of the Decepticon hands."

The clip showed several in a row of a few items being successfully retrieved. Then it showed one of the bots finding an already pilfered location.

"Unfortunately, due to the Decepticons having had her captive before her time with the bots, they had the information first and it was a race we did not always win," Fowler said with a heavy tone. "Her information has saved our lives on occasion, though, such as when it allowed us to set up a place to go when the 'Cons attacked our old base. I don't have clips of that, but it was a close call."

"Not all of it has been accurate, however," Hackett pointed out.

The clips changed to show a scene where Shadebreaker stood in shackles alongside another scene where another strange bot was in shackles and she was being released.

"Shadebreaker had warned of a Shifter bot coming," Fowler said. "But we came to find out the Shifter was already among us, feeding information to the Decepticons about when we'd go after each relic."

"Why do that and not grab them as fast as possible?" Stark asked.

"At the time we thought it was to try to pick us off," Fowler said. "Now we believe they were hoping to snag Shadebreaker to capture her and garner more of her information."

Stark nodded. That made sense.

"When the bots realized what had happened, that the Shifter had replaced a bot sooner than expected, they hatched a plan to lure him into a false sense of security," Hackett said.

"Shadebreaker sacrificed her reputation and freedom temporarily and posed as a traitor in hopes the Shifter would trip up and expose himself," Fowler said, looking a bit proud of her. "And it worked. Hook, line and sinker. She gained the respect of her fellow bots then, and mine too. She used her knowledge again to negotiate Bulkhead's release from Decepticon imprisonment and then again to navigate her own escape from the same more recently."

"Impressive," Stark admitted. "How come she's got wings while the others don't? Her helmet makes me think of an owl too, kinda."

"That's cause her alt mode, what she transforms into, is an owl," Fowler replied. "The others all transform into a land vehicle of some kind. She's not only the only flying Autobot on Earth, she is also the only known Autobot that is what they refer to as a beast former."

"Why's she so different? Was she just born that way?" Stark asked, finding it strange that she'd be the only one of her kind.

"That, is part of why we are seeking your help," Hackett said. "We trust the Autobots, but we need humanity to be ready to stand ready in case a mech like Shockwave tries to do what he did again on a wider scale."

"I'm afraid I'm not following," Stark said.

"Shadebreaker used to be human, Stark," Fowler said, tone heavy. "Then Shockwave did something, experimented on her and now she's one of them. Completely. Body and soul."

Stark narrowed his eyes. "I can buy the body," he said. "But soul?"

"The spark is what makes the Cybertronian soul," Fowler said. He motioned with his hands as he tried to find the right words. "It's..it's like a physical manifestation of the metaphysical aspects of oneself. Or something like that. Look, I don't know the science! Or the spiritual mumbo jumbo! I can barely follow Ratchet half the time he tries to explain their biology to me! All I know is according to them, there's not a trace of her humanity left outside of her memories."

"So the baddies can take our humanity away?" Stark asked.

"Shockwave can, yes," Fowler said. "So it seems, at least. And he has an affinity for beast modes. According to Shadebreaker, he thinks they make a bot more susceptible to control. He tried to make her his pet, his slave, essentially. He just didn't account for someone assisting her in escaping and sending her to the bots."

"Any other questions about the Autobots, Mr. Stark?" Hackett asked.

Stark looked at him. "Is there any way we could get a couple of them in here so I can ask them how they make robot babies?"

This is going to be a long day, Hackett thought to himself, trying not to sigh.

"So," Agent Fowler said, turning the slideshow off after giving Stark a rundown of their enemies. "Will you join us?"

Stark looked at Fowler and then at Hackett with his usual disinterested expression. "On one condition," he said. "I get to meet them today."

Fowler and Hackett shared a look before Fowler spoke again.

"Mr. Stark," he said. "It will take time to arrange for a meeting. We still have to go through all your paperwork to get you cleared."

"So...we leave at three?" Stark asked, spreading his hands out in question, looking unmoved by Fowler's statements of paperwork.

"Did you not hear me?" Fowler asked.

"Two then?" Stark asked.

Fowler gave an exasperated sigh and facepalmed. "No, Mr. Stark," he said.

"So what? Four? Five?" he asked. "I'm not agreeing unless I get to meet them today."

Fowler grumbled to himself. "Fine," he said. "We leave in a few hours."

Hackett looked between the Autobot's liaison and the super genius before focusing his gaze on Stark. "Is that always how you ask for things?"

Stark shrugged. "It always works, why change it?" he replied.

Fowler sighed. "It's going to be a long day," he muttered.

Chapter Text

Chapter 24: Meetings

I sat, hidden from any satellite images or humans by the cave walls around me as I hacked into the world wide web. I searched for reports of a fire in the area I had been last as a human and found it buried a little under some AI results and misinformation. An article about a conspiracy by the government was the first result and I saved it to peruse later for clues on what might've started the fire. Not that I believed the writers had come to any proper conclusions, but I knew how to sift through it to find kernels of hints with what I already knew. And I wanted to know if Vector was responsible for the fire or not. Maybe it mattered, maybe it didn't. But if he was, it did add to his crimes and I wanted to be informed of such things in the event he ever actually talked to me.

An obituary was the second result, the main one I was looking for. I perused the article, searching the names for my human one. I found it listed among the dead. A body had even been found and identified, which I found strange, but also did not surprise me. Vector had probably planted it. The obituary written for my human self was very touching and made me cry a bit, made my spark ache.

There didn't seem to be any other articles, so I moved on and hacked into Facebook next. Into my fiancée's account to check on him. I had come several years into the future from when I would've died. I was relieved to see he was still alive, that he hadn't died in that fire. It pained my spark to see what my apparent death had done. It also pained my spark a little to know that while I was in the future from that day, this was still very much in the past compared to the timeframe of the reality I now called home—when I'd initially crossed over, I was so far in the future that finding this stuff would've taken long enough I hadn't felt safe lingering to do so, so I'd had to time travel.

The posts left on my old page showed how much those I had finally found a place with had genuinely cared. It also showed how much they had hurt at my passing. But I was thankful to everyone for supporting each other. And that they'd been able to pick themselves back up.

I almost thought about leaving something behind to show I had been there. But I didn't know how it might be interpreted and I didn't want to open old wounds. And the time as it stood parallel to my new reality, they'd no longer be around. And still they hadn't... what point was opening their wounds except to soothe my own soul? I had just needed to know they hadn't been hurt more than necessary by Vector's actions. I logged out, leaving no trace of my hacking behind.

Part of me desperately wanted to go and actually see him, but I knew it would be too dangerous. Cybertronians did not exist here. Between all the different factors, being seen by anyone was too dangerous. For them, even if not myself. Besides, it was best for him that I let him continue to live his life and heal. Hopefully he could find love again someday. I could go and check, but...the more I checked, the more I risked. It was better to ensure his safety than to assuage my worry and guilt.

Spark aching, I ducked back through a portal to the reality I called home these days and then back to the proper place and time. At least I knew he didn't think I had purposely abandoned him. That he wasn't dragged into this, too. That would have to be enough.

Tony Stark sat across from Agent Fowler in the helicopter that was carrying them to the Autobot base several hours after their meeting in Area 51 had concluded. He had perused the files provided him more thoroughly while listening to the man and Admiral Hackett argue with someone over the phone for a couple hours and had a pretty solid idea of who each of the Autobots were.

At least, who they were according to the reports. He knew reports only told part of the story, of course. Take this Shadebreaker for instance. There had to be more to her story that wasn't in the reports. One could not simply change the nature of one's very soul. If her soul truly was that of one of the aliens now, then had she truly been human to begin with? Or was it really not now? Was it simply something that they simply could not tell despite their claims otherwise? He had a hard time believing the story in its entirety.

"How do they know?" He asked Fowler suddenly, moving his hand away from his mouth as he considered the man before him.

"Know what?" Fowler asked, raising an eyebrow.

"That this Shadebreaker no longer has a human soul? How can they tell? It's not exactly like the human soul is visible," Stark said. "Even my scanners cannot identify it. And I have the best technology humans can offer."

Fowler sighed, shaking his head. "The Autobots are different, Stark," he said. "Like I told you earlier, it is respresented physically by their spark. Which is how they identified that Shadebreaker has a Cybertronian soul now."

"So," Stark said, tilting his head. "They're completely certain this Shockwave changed her very soul?"

Fowler hesitated. "I…don't know," he said. "I only know what I've been told. And what I've been told is that, if not for her memories and the fact they know they are genuine, there would be no traces left of her human self. She has a Cybertronian soul and it is unlikely that she has two souls without knowing it."

"No split personality disorder?" Stark asked.

Fowler scoffed lightly in amusement. "No," he said. "Nothing like that."

"So it's entirely possible she may have had a Cybertronian soul the whole time," Stark suggested.

"I don't see how that would be possible for a Cybertronian soul to exist in a human body," Fowler scoffed, waving a hand in dismissal.

"I've seen stranger," Stark said. "They used to say alien life was impossible. Also, I was supposed to die two years ago from the shrapnel in my heart." He tapped the arc reactor that powered the magnet keeping said shrapnel at bay. "And then from the poisoning from the palladium in my old arc reactor metal."

"Until you were led to the pieces of a puzzle to discover an element not found on Earth," Fowler said, having a knowing look on his face.

Stark raised an eyebrow. "How do you know about how I made Badassium?"

Fowler chuckled. "Is that what you call it?" Fowler asked, looking amused. "The bots call it Cybernite and it's a metal usually only found on their home planet, but the Autobots were able to find a way to replicate its properties. Information we subtly forwarded to you, Mr. Stark."

Stark frowned, biting the inside of his cheek. He had prided himself on discovering a new element and had even had it patented. "Why? Also, why didn't you do anything to stop me taking credit publicly?"

"The Autobots are still very much a secret, Mr. Stark," Fowler said simply. "Allowing you to take credit for this new element was no problem. It allowed its use in more public spaces without risking exposure. It provided more cover for our Autobots to hide in plain site as they tend to while on patrol. But besides that, we couldn't let the world's first and only super hero die from the very thing meant to keep him alive. And when Optimus heard about you, he didn't mind at all sharing the formula for the element they had discovered thinks to Ratchet."

"Hm," Stark hummed thoughtfully. "So the Autobots know about me. Did they come to you about recruiting me?"

Fowler shook his head. "No, Mr. Stark," he said. "Recruiting you was Admiral Hackett's desire. We wanted someone like you to help us convince the Autobots to share more of their tech. Not for weapons, but to further more of the other stuff. You already head the race for environmentally friendly forms of power and efficient modes of transportation. We brought you in as additional liaison support, as an inventor with strong feelings about weapons yourself, we thought your coinciding views on the matter might help ease Optimus's concerns.

"Plus," Fowler continued, "having a strong human defense against the Decepticons is always a plus, especially given Optimus only recently allowed us a more hands-on approach to our assistance. You have experience taking a Decepticon down on your own, you could give our men a few pointers that the Bots might not think of."

"I'll consider it," Stark said, tilting his head the other way as he watched Fowler. "I haven't talked to them yet, after all."

"Sir," the pilot said, peeking over his shoulder. "The scanners are picking up a bogie incoming."

"What kind?" Fowler asked. "Decepticon?"

"The readings match the records for the Decepticon Laserbeak, sir," the pilot replied.

"Which means Soundwave's likely not far behind," Fowler said solemnly. "Contact base, let them know we may be in trouble." He turned to Stark. "I don't suppose you have your suit with you."

"Agent," Stark said, stretching his arms a little to reveal the bracelets around his wrists. "I always have my suit."

Fowler nodded his approval. "Good, cause you may need it," he said.

"We got incoming!" the pilot said, changing that into a definite a mere moment later.

Stark peeked out the side of the helicopter just in time to see what looked like a robotic bird of prey flying straight at them. And it fired at the helicopter's rotors, taking out the blades that kept them in the air.

"Sweet Lady Liberty!" Fowler said in swearing tones as the helicopter rocked, trying to stay on his feet.

Stark spared him a look, already giving the commands to his suit to expand across his body. The nanobots activated in less than a blink, crawling from the bracelets to cover his arms and transform his clothes into his signature red and gold Iron Man suit.

As the helicopter spun out of control, Stark grabbed Fowler with one arm and the pilot with the other hand before using the pulsors in his boots to shoot out from the helicopter.

"You called the bots, private?" Fowler asked, grabbing hold of the pilot's clothes to pull him closer to the flying man's body.

"No sir! The signal was jammed!" The pilot replied.

"For the sake of Uncle Sam's Beard," Fowler growled.

"Hang on," Stark warned and dived to the side to avoid a barrage of fire from the pursuing bird bot. "Jarvis, can you get past the interference?"

"Possibly sir," the voice of the AI said in his ears. "But I would require the communication codes in order to reach the Autobots of which your new friends speak."

"Fowler," Stark said, hoisting the pilot up to hug him to his side as he clenched his fists around each of their shirts to maintain his hold on them. "I need the codes to contact your base if we hope to make contact with them for backup."

Fowler looked like he was considering that for a moment.

"Look, I see a bit of land nearby, I'm going to put you down and hold bird brain off, but I can't call for backup without knowing how to call them," Stark said firmly.

"Fine," Fowler said and rattled off the communication codes and his verification numbers.

"You got that Jarvis?" Stark asked as he sat the two men down on the sand.

"Yes sir," Jarvis replied. "Calling for backup now."

"Good," Stark said and then shot back up into the sky toward the mechanical bird.

He rolled out of the way of some fire and then punched the robotic creature in the face when he met it head on. The creature, Laserbeak the pilot had referred to it, squawked loudly and then turned and snapped at him with its beak. He was just able to back out of the way, and then move away from the grip of its talons.

He lifted a hand and shot a blast from his repulsor at the thing, disorienting it.

"Sir, backup has arrived on the island," Jarvis said. "They are trying to take aim, but are hesitant to shoot with you locked in combat."

Stark took in Jarvis's update as he darted around attempts to snag him by the bird, it having been minimally affected by his repulsor blast. He wasn't entirely surprised. His repulsor blasts weren't designed for combat against giant alien robots. He had armaments meant for this, though.

"Another Decepticon is inbound, sir," Jarvis reported. "The energy signature matches that of Soundwave. Two unknown signatures accompany him."

Damn. He could take the one bot if he switched to his weapons systems as he was about to. He would not be able to take four. And he was too far out for the Autobots to provide him proper support.

He switched gears and flew back toward the island, the bird hot on his trail. With the help of his AI, he veered out of the way of most of the shots, but as he came closer to the beach, a shot caught him on the back, hitting one of the repulsor lifts propelling him forward.

The force of the hit, besides frying that portion of the workings of his suit, sent him hurtling toward the water. He shifted his limbs, spreading them out and pointing his still active repulsors downward to slow his fall. He heard splashes as one of the larger bots he'd seen on shore entered the water, likely to catch him before he could sink in his armor. He appreciated the concern even if he didn't see it as necessary.

Then another shot hit him in the arm that he couldn't dodge in his frantic attempt to keep from crashing into the sea and he cried out as he felt his bone crack. Warnings flashed red on his hud, alerting him to the continual loss of fuel and confirming the break in his arm.

"Shit," he said through gritted teeth.

The water came up faster now. But he didn't hit it. The bot reached him first, catching him in one hand while shooting with the other. He rolled himself over in the hand cradling him, cringing in pain from the impact, even if it had been softer than he had expected.

The flying thing squawked in anger as it got hit in a wing and then seemed to reconsider its attack as a blast from a bot on the shore whizzed past it. It flew away, making angry noises the whole way to meet up with the incoming jets.

The bot that held him lifted him up to their face and whirled in what sounded like questioning tones. It was then he realized it was the Autobot known as Bumblebee who had caught him.

"I'm ok," Stark replied, looking at the blue optics looking back at him in concern. "My arm is broken, but other than that, I'm fine."

Bumblebee whirled again reassuringly and then moved back toward the shore, cradling him to his chest carefully. He thought about protesting being carried. It was his arm that was broken, not his legs. But they had some water distance to cover and he had broken repulsors, so he accepted being carried like a baby.

"How is he, Bumblebee?" A deep voice Stark recognized from the clips as Optimus Prime.

Bumblebee whirled and Stark could tell he was relaying information about his broken arm. It kinda sounded like it at least, but his head was starting to hurt and that made it difficult to tell past the sounds of weapons firing. Something, something about energon exposure? What?

Optimus said something else, but he was already slipping into unconsciousness before he got through a whole sentence.

"Who's the new guy, Fowler?" Bulkhead asked curiously from where he manned the Ground Bridge controls as he watched Bumblebee lay the unconscious man on a medical gurney.

"Tony Stark," Fowler answered. "He's joining the liaison team in Galloway's place."

Bulkhead groaned, shaking his helm.

"Relax, he's nothing like that jerk," Fowler assured, smirking.

"He looks…armed," Optimus observed. "A combat veteran like yourself?"

Fowler shook his head. "Former weapons engineer," he replied, watching the med team wheel him away. "Emphasis on former. He makes it very clear he will not make weapons anymore. He's a lot like you in that regard, Optimus. These days he puts his genius to use towards the development of environmentally friendly technology."

"Such as those you wish to pursue with our tech," Optimus said meaningfully.

Fowler nodded, seeing the Prime understood. "He is here so that we can come to better agreements," he said. "Ones we can all be happy with. And, it never hurts to have a liaison with Decepticon experience."

Optimus blinked his optics. "I was unaware of any humans outside this taskforce having contact."

"We left Stark alone for a long time for our own reasons," Fowler said. "You may recall the request to allow him use of the Cybernite formula to make a quote, unquote 'new' formula."

Optimus nodded.

"A year prior, he had come into contact with a Decepticon in Europe," Fowler said. "The one you lot identified later as Sideways. Took him down completely on his own. We kept quiet about it, cause we didn't know if he'd play ball. We still aren't sure now. But brass felt it was a good time and he seems willing, to an extent. Demanded to meet you before making a commitment, however."

Optimus nodded, though a frown was etched on his face.

"I'll check with the doctors and get back to you," Fowler said.

"Ratchet may need to take a look for the energon exposure," Optimus said. "I suggest you have the doctors coordinate with him."

Fowler nodded. "Of course," he said and then walked out, flagging down a passing tank of soldiers for a lift to follow the ambulance that had carried Stark to the human medical zone.

It wasn't until a couple days later that the doctors allowed Stark to leave the human hospital. And even then it was only because the man refused to stay any longer than that. It was hard to convince the man he needed to rest longer after the energon exposure from Laserbeak's shots.

"So, who should we start with first?" Stark asked through a mouthful of cheeseburger Fowler had brought him.

"I figured we'd start with Ratchet and the others we'd find in medbay," Fowler said easily. "Not only is it closest, but Ratchet wanted to make sure the doctors did an adequate job dealing with the energon exposure."

Stark raised an eyebrow. "Is he gonna know anything about what to do if they didn't?" He asked.

Fowler shrugged. "He just likes to be thorough," he said. "Plus he doesn't always have the most faith in human technology to pick up on everything."

"Hm," Stark said as they made it down the steps and entered the car. "Well, you're the driver, champ."

Fowler rolled his eyes as he started the car and began driving.

"So," Stark said after he finished the cheeseburger and they were well underway. "Who all will be at medbay?"

Fowler shrugged. "Guaranteed will be Ratchet and Drift. Shadebreaker, too. The medic and our two on medical leave. But all the bots pop in from time to time for repairs or just to visit, so there might be others."

"Drift is the ex-Con, right?" Stark asked. "Is he in medbay cause he's still restricted or still infirm?"

"A little of both," Fowler said. "While he's close to gaining access to wandering around supervised, Ratchet wants his frame to heal a little bit more before he forays into the outside world."

Stark nodded in understanding. "What about Shadebreaker? Is she allowed to leave?"

Fowler shrugged. "Allowed, but I wouldn't count on it," he said. "Last time I was on base she wasn't even leaving her room. And that was just a couple days before our interrupted helicopter ride. I don't know what exactly happened when Chromedome entered her helm, but whatever it is clearly upset her."

Stark could get that. After Obadiah's betrayal he had done a lot of introspection and that had him isolating himself for a few days himself while he considered what to do going forward. He wondered if she had learned of a betrayal she had not noticed before.

They came to the medbay a few short minutes later and Fowler parked in a small area designed for human vehicles to pull off the roadway. Mostly for events such as these where liaisons were visiting medbay, but also in the event June was bringing one of the kids by to visit one of their Autobot guardians in medbay. Or any of the soldiers to visit a medbay-bound bot, as happened on occasion.

The two men made their way into the building through the human-sized doors. Stark looked around, taking in the absolutely massive size of everything within. Not a single thing within was designed with a human in mind and it was interesting.

"Do humans not often come in here?" He asked Fowler curiously.

"Not to stay very long," Fowler replied as they walked across the massive room. "There are a couple human-sized rooms, just in case." He pointed toward a human-sized door at a distant wall. "But they are hardly ever used. Most of the time when a human does visit, they stay in the main room, with the bot they are visiting. You saw the image of Miko sleeping with Shadebreaker. That is the more common sight in the event a human stays in medbay for any length of time."

"Ah," Stark said, recalling the scene with amusement.

Fowler led them through another door and Stark immediately noticed the bot within. Huge. And sporting the white and red paint job of the medic from the clips and the reports. The medic was occupied with some task at the large counter off to the side.

"Ratchet!" Fowler called as Stark looked around the room at the bot sized furniture and equipment.

Ratchet paused in his work and glanced over his shoulder to glare at the interruption. His optics looked down, clearly recognizing it was a human who had called for him and they landed on Fowler and Stark within moments.

"You get the privilege of meeting Stark while he's conscious first," Fowler said, grinning in good natured humor as he motioned to him and winked.

"Technically that goes to Bumblebee," Stark said, shrugging.

Fowler and Ratchet both rolled their eyes, or what amounted to eyes.

"I also figured you could get your scans out of the way," Fowler said, sounding like he was placating the mech from irritation he had not yet displayed.

"Very well," Ratchet said and waved them over. "Come over and we can speak while I work."

Fowler lead Stark over to where Ratchet was standing and then the medic held a hand down to the ground. Fowler climbed on readily, but Stark just frowned at it for a second.

"Come on, flyboy," Fowler said. "Or are you suddenly afraid of heights?"

Stark raised an eyebrow, but then climbed on the proffered hand, holding onto the thumb for stability.

Ratchet curled his fingers around and lifted them with the utmost care until they were just above the counter. He rested his hand on the counter, indicating for them to get off, which they did carefully.

Ratchet moved his hand away and pulled a device from seemingly nowhere.

"Where did that just come from?" Stark asked.

"Subspace," Ratchet replied simply and Stark felt a tingle as he waved the device pass him. "A pocket dimension between the fabrics of realities in which we can store things. That's the…layman's terms anyways." His tone was dry as his optics flicked between the two humans.

Fowler looked sheepish.

"I may ask you for a more indepth explanation some time," Stark said, smiling a little.

Ratchet looked a little surprised at that and then narrowed his optics.

"Mr. Stark here is our new liaison," Fowler jumped in to explain. "To take Galloway's place in negotiations about technological development and such."

"We're not sharing anything you can make weapons with," Ratchet said sternly.

"Hey, I get it," Stark said, lifting his free hand as he paced a bit to the side. "I won't ask for that. I don't make weapons anymore, anyways. Don't believe in it. Not after Baghdad."

"Hmph," Ratchet grunted disbelievingly.

Stark stopped short of the large microscope on the counter. The thing was larger than he was. "What's this you're working on?"

"A formula for synthetic energon, our food, if you will," Ratchet replied, watching him with careful optics. "We have a data device with a full formula, but it was damaged and I have been unable to retrieve the information. Wheeljack is taking a crack at it, but I've returned to trying to complete it on my own in the meantime. With the Decepticons maintaining control over most of your world's natural deposits, we need any source of fuel we can get."

Stark nodded, looking impressed. "How's it going?"

"Most recent tests look promising," Ratchet said. "Still needs some more testing, however, before it can be deemed safe for consumption. And even then we won't really know if it is until one of us drinks it."

"What happens if you drink it and it's not safe?" Stark asked.

"There's a number of ways it could go wrong," Ratchet said. "From poisoning us to changing our thinking processes and personalities."

"Like drugs," Stark observed. "So you're trying to get something that does neither of those things."

"Ideally it won't be much different from our natural stuff, but I know it won't be exact," Ratchet said with a sigh as he looked at his scanner as it dinged with the results of the scan he'd run on Stark while they'd talked.

"What's the verdict on my scan, doc?" Stark asked, amused.

Ratchet considered the results, taking into account the arc reactor he had been told about during the consultations about the energon exposure. He read the readouts from it and compared them to the ones the humans had sent him when he'd first been hospitalized.

"Other than your broken arm and the shrapnel still in your heart, you're fine," he grouched. "Have you considered looking into procedures to remove the shrapnel rather than keeping it at bay with that magnet?"

"Human medicine hasn't quite reached that far," Stark said, tilting his head.

"Hmph," Ratchet scoffed a bit. "I can recommend a couple of our human doctors to talk to about it. You'll find where we have collaborated, your technologies have improved much further than you think."

Stark looked at the large mech before him and felt like the mech was subtly telling him that he knew he was making excuses. It was an odd feeling. To feel as if he'd been read so easily by an alien robot he'd just met.

"Ratchet?" A feminine yet still clearly mechanical voice interrupted, saving him from answering.

Ratchet looked only mildly irritated before the expression smoothed over to one of concern as he shifted his attention to the source of the voice.

"Shadebreaker," he greeted gently. "What do you need?"

"I- My pain's flaring up a bit," Shadebreaker replied, sounding more than a bit vulnerable.

"Ah," Ratchet said, sighing. "We still have an hour before you're ok for your next painkiller."

"Oh," Shadebreaker said, disappointed. "It's starting to wear off faster. Last time it was only a few minutes off and you could give me the next dose."

"Yeah," Ratchet said, reaching out and rubbing her shoulder. "We'll keep track and rotate when we need to."

"Yeah," Shadebreaker said with a sigh. "And hope my system unadapted to it." She sounded a little grouchy.

Ratchet rubbed her shoulder and paused. "We have a new guest, perhaps talking to him will help distract you," he offered, moving to motion toward Stark.

Stark could see the femme now and he took in the owl bot with a bit of sympathy. Despite the visor hiding her optics he could still see she was of a low mood by the way the massive wings sat low on her back and were pulled close to her frame and the way the feathers on her helm drooped. There was a hole in her armor at her side where he could see bandages covering her midsection and he saw bandages peeking out from under her armor in other places as well. Her armor in general looked pretty rough.

Something else he noticed, though, was the flash of recognition he thought he caught on her face. It was there for the briefest of moments and if he hadn't been watching her intently he would've missed it.

"Hello there," she greeted, holding out a hand to him. "Shadebreaker here."

"Tony Stark," he introduced himself, reaching out with his good hand and taking hold of one of her fingers.

She lifted that finger up slightly and then down in the best mimicry of a handshake they could muster between them. "And you are here…"

"As a replacement liaison for that shmuck Galloway cause he wouldn't lay off your weaponry," Stark replied bluntly.

Shadebreaker grinned a little as Fowler groaned, facepalming. "I'm glad to hear Optimus no longer has to deal with him," she said sincerely. "I'm sure you will be much better suited to technological negotiations. May your dealings with us be pleasant and conducive to bettering human-Autobot friendships."

"The reports didn't peg you as the diplomatic type," Stark said, smiling a bit.

"I can be, sometimes," Shadebreaker said. "I'm afraid I don't have the social energy to be much fun or up for storytelling or whatever. I'm merely trying not to put my foot in my mouth is all, quite frankly. But I do genuinely mean that, as well."

"Well, you are very kind," Stark said. "Do you mind if I ask you something?"

"Only if you mind if I maintain my right not to answer," she replied, tone light.

"That's fair," Stark said easily. "I've been told you used to be human. Can you tell me something about that? Should I be worried if the Decepticons grab me they might turn me?"

Shadebreaker's wings shifted and Stark saw Ratchet shift, looking ready to move from where he'd started back into his work on the synthetic energon to intervene. Fowler frowned off to the side, crossing his arms as he looked concerned he had crossed a line.

"I do not know for certain," she said sincerely. "Information I have come across says that shouldn't be a worry, but there's always a possibility of that being a lie to try to discourage Shockwave from trying. Plus, I do not think it would stop the mech from trying. If he has not already tried to replicate it and failed. There is too little information to say with certainty."

Stark nodded his understanding. "Can you elaborate? Or is that too personal?"

"That is something I am still processing and do not feel comfortable discussing at this time," Shadebreaker replied guardedly. "Perhaps in time." She seemed to consider him for a moment. "For now, know that we bots will do our utmost to keep you safe from the Decepticons as we do all our allies."

"I can appreciate that," Stark said and watched as a tension left the femme's frame. She had, he suspected, expected him to bring up the human casualties they'd suffered.

"I appreciate that you appreciate that," she said softly and there was a vulnerability in her tone that confirmed his thoughts and added some that she personally felt responsible for at least some of them.

"Can I ask what you did when you were a human?" Stark asked with a tone of genuine interest as he fiddled with a tool on a stand.

"Careful with that," Ratchet warned, barely even glancing.

Shadebreaker looked mildly amused as Stark raised an eyebrow at the disgruntled medic. "I did a few things," she replied. "I worked in food for a long time. Childcare briefly. Though the last thing I did was work as a receptionist."

"A civilian," Stark observed. "And now you're a soldier. A choice made for you?"

"I was given an option to sit on the sidelines as support," Shadebreaker replied. "And I could always walk away. But that's not the kind of bot I have chosen to be. I'm not a frontliner, but neither am I sideliner. Not even Ratchet stays out of the field entirely."

Ratchet grunted, shooting them a look as if he didn't like her using him as an excuse to keep going in the field. Stark got a distinct impression Shadebreaker would be sidelined if he had the final say.

She's the special one to him, he realized easily.

"I like to be where I know I can help," Shadebreaker said. "I am still learning the ropes of that, however. And learning where my limits are and aren't." She picked at a damaged piece of armor. "And how to adjust those limits."

"It sounds like a steep learning curve," Stark said.

"Indeed," Shadebreaker said. "Going from being human to suddenly having wings." She shifted one massive wing out a bit, where Stark got a glimpse of its actual size. It was rather massive and had quite the range of motion it looked like. "I've smacked a few bots with these suckers forgetting about them a time or two."

Stark chuckled at that.

"The ability to fly is nice, though," she said.

"Yeah," he agreed. "Flying is pretty cool."

"Hmm," she hummed and had a knowing look on her face that had him narrowing his eyes at her. Then she flinched and put a hand on her helm. "Ratch'..." She rubbed her helm.

"A little longer," Ratchet said gently, shooting her a regretful look.

Shadebreaker groaned slightly, leaning forward to rest her elbows on the counter as she continued to rub her temples.

Stark patted her arm sympathetically. "So, can you change what you transform into? Or are you stuck with owl?" he asked, hoping to help her stay distracted from the pain.

"I…haven't really considered it," Shadebreaker replied, tilting her helm as she rested it in her hands. "The others all have some control over their alt modes. They can chose what model of vehicle for their alt mode anyways. Theoretically, maybe I could choose between birds, but I don't know if it works like that for beast formers."

"That would be something to ask Optimus if he knows from the information he read in the archives," Ratchet said, leaning away from the microscope to look over. "That's how we even knew what your frame type is called to begin with. There aren't many beast formers around anymore."

Shadebreaker sighed heavily. "Go me for having a frame type of an almost extinct kind," she said dryly. "At least there aren't enough differences you can't keep me in health. Just seems to make pain management a, well, pain."

Ratchet huffed at that and then looked at his datapad, writing something down.

"Would you change your alt mode?" Stark asked curiously. "If it turns out you could?"

"Hmm," Shadebreaker hummed thoughtfully. "Maybe. I quite like owls, though, so also maybe not. It'd be a hard decision. Hawks are cool, but so are parrots and falcons and eagles and pterodactyls and, well, you get the idea. Kea parrots are really beautiful, and smart. And ravens. I might stay owl just for sheer lack of ability to decide on another."

Stark chuckled a bit. "I mean, theoretically, you could put several into a rotation," he said. "Like a change of clothes. Be an owl for a week, then a falcon, then a raven, and on."

"Hm, that's an idea," Shadebreaker said, sounding mildly amused. "The bot of ever changing alt modes. It could be my whole shtick. Another layer of eccentricity to go along with the rest."

"Yeah, well, who wants to be normal anyhow?"

"Exactly," she said, shooting him finger guns without moving her hands away from supporting her helm. "Bots could take bets on which flying bird I might choose next. It could be a whole game. Provide endless entertainment. No boredom to be found."

"Gotta keep morale up," Stark agreed, noting the grimace in her face.

"I wonder if I'd be limited on which birds I could take as an altmode," Shadebreaker said. "I mean, some don't fly, like the ostrich. Others, like the puffin, have entirely different wings. Are my wings affected by my alt mode or are they this and that's it and I can only be a bird with similar wings?"

"All very good questions, I'm sure," Ratchet said dryly, moving closer.

"Time?" Shadebreaker asked hopefully.

"Yes," Ratchet said gently.

"Yay," Shadebreaker said and despite how desperate she'd seemed for the painkiller she didn't seem particularly thrilled as she lowered a hand to offer Ratchet an arm.

Stark watched as Ratchet removed a piece of armor with care and cleaned a patch of metallic surface underneath. He explained everything he was doing, though whether it was for his benefit or to distract Shadebreaker, Stark wasn't certain.

When Ratchet brought a syringe filled with a liquid, Stark realized Shadebreaker was beginning to tremble and he looked up at her face. She was looking down, away from the sight of Ratchet administering the pain killer. Her mouth was a hard line as if focused.

He reached out and placed a hand on her arm that still sat on the counter, giving her a sympathetic look. Her face shifted enough that he knew she had turned her attention to him, even as she flinched when Ratchet inserted the needle. He maintained eye to optic contact silently as the shot was administered, only breaking when Ratchet announced he was done.

"Thank you," Shadebreaker said as she backed away from the counter and rubbed her arm where her armor had been replaced. "I'm going back to my room now." She bowed her helm to them. "I hope you enjoy the rest of your stay, Mr. Stark. Thank you, Ratchet. Good day, Agent Fowler."

They all wished her a good day and Stark watched as she retreated away.

"Her captivity really hit her hard, huh?" Fowler asked.

Ratchet sighed heavily. "It's," he paused, seeming to look for the right words. "While I'm sure her recent time in Decepticon captivity plays a part, her current mood is about something else. The information she mentioned, in fact."

"I'm assuming that's about her time with Shockwave," Fowler said, glancing at Stark. "Is it something we should know?"

Ratchet looked thoughtful for a long moment. "It did seem to indicate Shockwave cannot repeat what he did to anyone else, however, like she said, it is unclear whether Vector was lying or not. And it's a safe bet it won't stop the mech from trying."

"Vector? As in Vector Prime?" Fowler asked. "Isn't that the mech that rescued her from Shockwave? What's he got to do with it?"

"He's also the mech who put her into his hands in the first place," Ratchet said dryly.

"That doesn't make any sense," Fowler said, motioning with his hands. "Why would he deliver her to him only to take her away?"

"We are uncertain," Ratchet said. "But my guess is that it's connected to whatever made him think the process Shockwave went through to change her wouldn't work for anyone else."

Stark listened to the two of them talk for a little bit longer, coming up with his own theories. His thoughts of there being something different from a typical human from the getgo felt vindicated with this information.

"Well, we better be going," Fowler said suddenly. "We got lots more bots to meet."

"We haven't met Drift yet," Stark pointed out.

"Drift's busy meditating," Ratchet waved him off. "Besides, it's best you wait to meet him until he's been cleared with security. Not that I think he's a threat to you. Prowl might get persnickety about it, though. I'm sure Elita is open to visitors, though."

"Very well," Stark said in acceptance as Ratchet held a hand out to help the two humans back to the floor.

Chapter Text

Chapter 25: Trip to the Forge

"You're cleared to leave medbay today," Ratchet said.

Drift shifted on his pedes as he watched Ratchet filling out some forms. "Where will I go?" He asked uncertainly.

"Well," Ratchet said. "Ironhide mentioned he would like you to stop by his forge." He paused, checking over the form. "To be clear, this is a security clearance. You will still be staying here as if medbay is your quarters for a little while. Your…other quarter arrangements are still being discussed. And your frame is still healing, as well as the need to repair your spark casing still being an issue, prolonging your medbay stay."

"I see," Drift said, tilting his helm with a frown. "And am I to leave alone?"

"No," Ratchet sighed. "Seeing as how you are a recently defected ex-Con, Prowl believes it best that you have a bot who is at least semi-friendly with you at all times. For now."

Drift nodded. He wondered who, in that case, would be the one to take him to this forge of Ironhide's. If the mech himself would come fetch him or the Prime or some bot else. The number of bots he felt were even semi-friendly toward him were small.

"Is Shadebreaker cleared to leave medbay yet?" Drift asked. Next to Ratchet, she was one of the friendliest bot toward him, if not the friendliest.

Ratchet glanced at him and then back at his paperwork. "She is," he said hesitantly.

"You do not know if she will want to go," Drift observed. "Does it have to do with whatever has caused her to be…distant this last week?"

"Short answer is yes," Ratchet said. "I can't give you the long answer without sharing what is not mine to share."

Drift nodded in understanding.

"If it makes you feel any better, she hasn't talked to me that much either," Ratchet sighed, looking saddened by this.

Drift was about to say something, but stopped when the door to medbay opened. He looked over to see a light blue femme walking in. Drift recognized her as Chromia from when she'd come to visit with Shadebreaker.

"I have come to kidnap your patients, Ratchet," she said, smirking mischievously.

Ratchet rolled his optics. "Ironhide sent you for Drift, then?"

"And Shadebreaker, if she has clearance to leave?" Chromia raised an optic ridge, looking around. "Where is she?"

"I'll go see if I can coax her out from her room today," Ratchet said gruffly. He passed the datapad he'd been writing on to Drift and pointed to where he needed to sign.

Chromia made a face. "Hiding is she?" She asked. "What'd you mechs do?" She narrowed her optics at Drift as the mech signed the datapad.

"We did nothing," Ratchet said, beginning to walk away. "It's her father you should be angry at."

"And that's new?" Chromia asked, raising an optic ridge. "I thought we already knew he was a fragger."

Drift tilted his helm as Ratchet waved a hand. He frowned in confusion. "What'd her father do?"

"Not my place to tell," Chromia said, considering him.

"I understand," Drift said, bowing his helm slightly.

Chromia gave him what looked like an actual smile at that. "Good mech."

They waited in silence for several minutes for Ratchet to return. When he eventually did, it was with a subdued looking Shadebreaker, wings held low.

"Aw femme," Chromia said upon seeing her. She reached her arms out. "Come here."

Shadebreaker moved toward her, accepting the hug and falling into it a bit as the blue femme wrapped her arms around her.

"I don't know what happened, but know that I'm here if you want to talk," Chromia said gently, rubbing her back.

"Not right this moment," Shadebreaker replied quietly. "But…probably soon."

"We're all here when you are ready," Ratchet said, reaching out and rubbing her helm.

Shadebreaker's shoulders rose and fell a little bit and she tightened her arms around Chromia for a moment before pulling back. "I know."

"Good," Chromia said as Ratchet dropped his hand and she replaced it with her own. "Now, you ready to get started on some new armor with Ironhide?"

"That, I am ready for," Shadebreaker said dryly, ghosting a hand over her mangled armor on her side.

"Then let's get out of this prison of a medbay," Chromia said, humor in her tone.

Drift smirked a little as Ratchet rolled his optics. He handed Ratchet the datapad back and moved toward the door as Chromia motioned him and Shadebreaker took up a spot next to him, prompting Chromia to walk right behind them as they walked through the double doors leading out of medbay.

"Ah, sunshine sweet sunshine," Shadebreaker said as they started down the street.

"You would've gotten more if you had not hidden in your room," Drift teased lightly.

"Touchè," Shadebreaker said, lightly smacking his shoulder.

Drift had hoped this small banter meant she was done being reclusive, but she fell silent after that. He tried a few times as they walked to strike up a conversation, but all he got from her was short answers, a contrast to the larger ones she usually gave.

"The birds are active today," Drift observed.

"Hm."

"Do you think you will be permitted to fly soon?"

A shrug.

"When do you think we will study together next?"

"Soon."

"How are you doing?"

"Fine enough."

Drift was feeling frustrated by the time they'd even gone a block. "You do not seem to be doing fine enough."

"Compared to the other day when I wanted to smash a tank in for being loud as it passed by medbay, I am doing perfectly fine."

Drift blinked.

"Look, Drift," Shadebreaker sighed. "I usually enjoy our talks and I appreciate you trying to get me to talk like normal. I do. But I'm not in a good mood to talk and pretend to be ok. I learned something the other day that really pissed me the hell off and I am still processing it. I don't have the energy for socializing. I'm sorry. We'll get back to normal soon. And then figure out whatever normal will normally be whenever we're not both stuck in medbay when that comes and whatever. You know? I'm just trying to get through each moment right now."

Drift nodded. "I…can understand that," he said. "You are…drifting on the winds."

"That's a…poetic way of putting it," Shadebreaker said, chuckling. "It's more like I'm facing down a tidal wave and hanging onto an anchor, though. Less drifting and more shouting at the wind to calm the slag down."

Drift chuckled at that a bit. "I can see where that differs."

"Hate to break up the impromptu therapy session," Chromia said, humor in her tone. "But do you two even know where you are going?"

"I do not," Drift said readily. "I was following Shadebreaker."

"The building was being built before I got captured," Shadebreaker said uncertainly, looking around. "But…"

"Progress has been made while you were away and then trapped in medbay," Chromia said, optics sparkling as she motioned for the two infirmary-bound bots to follow her. "I wondered how long it would take you to notice, but after two wrong turns, I think I should just lead the way. Ratchet would be unhappy if I let you overdo it too much."

Shadebreaker looked a bit embarrassed. "To be fair, I also have only flown over the area," she said as they shifted direction to follow Chromia now. "It looks different from the ground."

"And that's why portaling and flying shouldn't be your only form of transport, even when you are solo," Chromia said, waggling her finger at the purple femme.

"And do you walk everywhere when solo? Or do you drive?" Shadebreaker asked, sounding amused.

"Touchè," Chromia chuckled.

Shadebreaker fell silent again, but this time Drift didn't pester her. He understood her need for quiet now, which was likely why she had holed herself in her room for so long.

Drift instead turned his attention to their surroundings as they walked. The buildings were clearly made out of Earth materials, even the Cybertronian sized ones, and he wondered if they would truly hold up to Cybertronian living. Humans were making their way through the streets and they had to step aside to let several tanks go by.

Eventually they were entering a large building and Drift noticed immediately how massive it was inside. There was a massive forge toward the back of the building and all the required tools and stations filled the space between that and the front of the shop. There were a few sets of ready-made armor on display on one wall and Drift wondered if they had purpose beyond displaying his skillset.

"Mech!" Chromia called. "I brought your bitlets!"

"Bitlets?!" Shadebreaker asked, sounding mildly offended. "We're not even small."

Chromia flashed a smirk, optics sparkling back at them as Ironhide emerged from behind the forge, armor covered in soot. He looked them over, optics taking in each of their appearances. His optics looked sad and gentle when they took in the state of Shadebreaker's armor.

"Good morning, MyMia," Ironhide said gently as he met them midway through. He moved to hug her, but she stopped him.

"You're filthy," Chromia said, making a face.

He took a rag from subspace, beginning to wipe his servos clean with it. "I was cleaning a mess that was made when the humans delivered the last batch of fuel for the forge. One of the containers burst open and it got everywhere."

"I'll say," Chromia said, eyeing him up and down.

"I was able to salvage most of it," Ironhide said, sighing.

"Well," Chromia said. "You are definitely going to the showers before coming home."

"That was the plan," Ironhide said dryly. He leaned over and quickly kissed her before she could retreat.

"Mech!" Chromia protested. "You even taste like soot!" She complained, but her optics and smirk contradicted her complaints.

Ironhide smirked in triumph, then turned to the waiting bots. His optics softened looking at them. "How are you two this morning?"

"I am doing well," Drift said. "Nice to broaden my horizons out of medbay."

Ironhide chuckled lightly at that. "I imagine," he said gently. Then he looked to Shadebreaker. "And you?"

Shadebreaker shifted a wing, wrapping her arms around herself, covering her side. She looked self-conscious now. "I am…ok," she said hesitantly. "Not great, but…ok."

Ironhide looked sad, gazing at her for a long moment. "Do you wish to talk about it?" he asked gently.

Shadebreaker opened her mouth, probably to say no again, but she hesitated. Something in his tone must've reached her in ways no one had yet been able to. Or perhaps there were other factors going into it, but she sighed and nodded lightly. "Yeah, maybe I do."

"Ok," Ironhide said. He took a datapad out and passed it to Chromia. "Why don't you go over some armor designs with Drift while I take Shadebreaker aside to talk?"

"You got it, mech," Chromia said easily, accepting the datapad.

Drift watched as Ironhide led Shadebreaker away, disappearing through a door and then turned his attention to Chromia as he heard her sigh. He saw some worry in her optics before it was hidden, smoothed over into a look of calm interest as she lifted the datapad and addressed him.

"Let's see what you like, eh?" Chromia asked.

Drift nodded and followed her to a couch on the opposite side of the forge from the door Ironhide had disappeared through.

"Now what's going on, fembot?" Ironhide asked gently.

I swallowed, frame shaking a bit as I remembered the event from a week ago.

"Is it something the 'Cons did?" Ironhide asked gently.

I shook my helm lightly. "Not…exactly," I said quietly. "Though something they did is what led to me finding out about this thing. So they are kinda connected."

Ironhide nodded in understanding when I looked up at him, his optics gentle as his hand rested on my shoulder.

I tightened my arms around me and my wings trembled slightly. "Soundwave had fiddled a bit in my helm to deactivate my T-cog," I said. "Not sure why he didn't just pull what they wanted to know that way. I guess Soundwave's not great at mnemosurgery without…damaging bots…and I fought him, fragmented him a bit, I guess."

"He has caused a great number of bots a great deal of mental damage," Ironhide confirmed. "Megatron might have thought he would destroy the information by mistake when you fought him. And he seems determined enough to get it to take precautions. Also, if you fragmented Soundwave once, Megatron might've not wanted to risk the one mech he trusts to a procedure known for its risks of fragmentation and death. Surprised they didn't use a cortical psychic patch."

"It's broken," I said, smirking slightly. "Breakdown broke it in a fight with Barricade early during my captivity. It would've been comical if I wasn't, well, you know…" I sighed, shaking my helm.

Ironhide rubbed his thumb over my shoulder as I shuddered.

"He hid the code that deactivated it in a memory," I continued quietly. "So when Chromedome, I don't know if you've met Chromedome yet?"

"I have," Ironhide nodded. "He seems like a good mech."

"He's a mnemosurgeon, supposed to be retired, but came to help with me, I guess," I said, sighing again. "Anyways, when he went into my helm to find it, we found the code in my memory of when I was taken from my human reality."

"Ah," Ironhide said. "That must've been painful. I'm sorry you had to relive it."

I nodded. "I learned something, too," I said quietly.

Ironhide was silent, but he gave me an encouraging look.

"Apparently Shockwave had dulled my memory of the event," I said. "Enough so I wouldn't recall who had actually done the snatching, but not enough for me to investigate too much into it."

Ironhide narrowed his optics. "How would he know how you'd react to that?"

"The one who took me," I said, trembling a little more. "Was Vector Prime, Ironhide. Stands to reason, he had probably watched me for long enough to know at least some of how I function to make that judgment."

Ironhide's grip on my shoulder tightened a little and then he pulled me into a hug as tears pooled into my optics. "I'm so sorry, Shade'," he said. "That's awful that he did that."

"At first I was just furious," I said as tears started to fall as I leaned into his hug. "And I still am. But I'm also confused and hurt and…I don't know. I'm not fully sure what to feel. I don't understand. Why me? What did I do to deserve being taken apart like that? Being torn away from everything? And then he turned around and rescued me? I don't get it."

"Don't you think it has anything to do with anything you did," Ironhide said firmly, placing a hand on the back of my helm as I pressed my face into his shoulder. "You didn't deserve any of it." He pulled back to look me in the optics. "You hear me? You didn't do anything to deserve it."

I hiccup slightly as tears fell from my optics.

"It's not your fault what you went through," Ironhide repeated firmly, fingers firm on my shoulders. "Your worth is not tied to what messed up mechs decide to do to you. Even if they are somehow related to you biologically. Understand?"

I swallowed again, frame trembling. I nodded and reached up, wiping tears from my cheeks, ignoring the soot that covered my armor now. A small price to pay for the comfort I had apparently desperately needed.

Ironhide pulled me back, sensing that I needed more time in his big old bear hug. He just held me there for what felt like a long time and I made no move to get away as I listened to his spark pulse.

"On one hand," I said quietly after a long time. "Vector told Shockwave it was a one time deal. And knowing it wasn't Shockwave who took me….I feel a bit better that what happened to me won't happen to anyone else…not from my reality at least. My human family is safe, or should be." I wasn't sure if I should confess to going and checking on them, even if I had been super careful. I would probably tell Optimus about it, but I wasn't ready to talk about it with anyone else.

"That is a positive," Ironhide agreed, rubbing my back.

"Doesn't make what he did any better," I said, sighing. "But at least I can stop fretting about wondering if somewhere out there someone I love is suffering my same fate and I don't even know it."

Ironhide tightened his hold on me a little bit. "You worried about that a lot, huh?"

"I worried cause they would suffer," I replied quietly. "I worried cause it was something the 'Cons could try to use against me, causing them to suffer. I worried cause some of them also have information. I worried cause others in that reality also have information and not all would be on your side. It was constantly in the back of my helm as something to watch out for signs of.

"So while what he did was wrong and I don't think I'll ever forgive him," I made a face. "Knowing it was him and not Shockwave, there is some level of peace that wasn't there before. I mean, he could change his mind, but he seemed pretty adamant. Said I was the only human it would even work with."

I felt Ironhide frown due to his chin resting atop my helm. "That's a strange thing to say."

"Yeah," I agreed. "The questions keep piling on, don't they?"

"Hmm," Ironhide hummed, shifting his hold slightly. "That's ok. It doesn't change anything here. You are still you and we are still us. No one will think anything differently if you share this new information."

I sighed, relaxing a bit more in his hold. "I appreciate that," I said quietly. "I don't know if I believe you. Not for everyone anyways. But I appreciate that it will be true at least for those present in my life. I am sure there will be some that may have…issues with me for any number of reasons."

"The ones that matter won't care what some ancient old mech did with you," Ironhide gruffed dismissively. "Or judge you for anything as shallow as optic color or altmode or anything else you are worried about."

"Eccentricities and previous status as an organic being," I said in a much more chipper tone than I felt.

Ironhide chuckled shortly.

"I haven't even told Drift I used to be human yet and I mostly trust him," I said. "I just don't know enough about his just-left-the-'Cons self to know how he will react. He does know I was raised by humans and seems not to think poorly of it. He seems fairly neutral on the idea of humans so far. He seemed rather confused when I called myself 'whatever I am'."

Ironhide chuckled. "Fembot, anyone would be confused by that," he said, sounding amused. He pulled back some and tilted my chin up with a finger. "Are you ready to rejoin the others and get started on sorting out new armor?"

"Hmm," I hummed. "I think so."

Ironhide gave me one more snuggle and then pulled back and looked me over. "I'm afraid now you need a trip to the showers."

I chuckled, looking down at the soot now covering my armor. "I'm probably due for one, anyways," I shrugged. "Small price to pay for snuggles."

Ironhide chuckled and reached over, giving my wing a touch similar to one I've seen him give Bumblebee. I was unfamiliar with the meaning, but it felt pleasant and like a friendly gesture so I just smiled and made a note to do some wing touch research later.

We went back out to where Chromia and Drift were waiting and I smiled at the sight of them hovering over a datapad discussing armor designs. Drift, who seemed to keep his distance from everyone, was sitting pretty close as they hovered over the datapad by nature of hovering over the same device. He didn't seem uncomfortable, though, which was good to see of the ex-Con.

"Hey you," Chromia said, looking up as we approached. Her optics landed on me and softened. She held out an arm in invitation.

I moved forward and accepted her hug readily.

"You feel better?" She asked.

"Yeah," I replied. "Talking helped me process a bit more. I found a positive, even. And Ironhide gives some good reassurance and hugs."

"Hmm," Chromia hummed appreciatively. "That he does. Now maybe next time you won't hole yourself up for a week, eh?" She teased lightly, tweaking my wing.

I squirmed. "Heyy," I complained as she tickled at my side as well. "I can't make that promise. But I will try to be better about talking sooner."

"Will you, though?" Chromia asked, as I started to try to wrestle from her grasp.

"Femmes." Ironhide's gruff chiding voice made us stop before we could start.

"Sorry, fembot," Chromia said, holding me firmly. "No wrestling for the infirm."

"Disappointment," I said dramatically.

Chromia chuckled at that. "Perhaps you can help Drift finish narrowing down his armor choice instead," she suggested.

I shifted to sit between the two bots, which caused me to be slightly squished between them and have to hold my wings tightly behind me so they didn't smack either in the face as I leaned forward. "What we got it down to?"

Drift shifted slightly so we weren't so pressed up against each other before holding the datapad where I could see. "I am between these three," he said.

I looked at the three displayed on the screen and found myself unsurprised to find two sets looking very similar to what I was familiar with seeing on the mech. Armor looking much like what he wore on his frame at the start of his venture aboard the Lost Light in that other universe and also a set much like what he bore upon returning from his unfair exile. The third wasn't bad either, but I knew which one I personally liked best for the mech.

"Do you have any preference for one over the others?" I asked him.

Drift frowned. "I am torn," he said. "I like them all for different reasons."

"Ah," I said. "Have you tried breaking those reasons down?"

"That's what we did just before you came back out," Chromia said dryly.

"Which do you think would be best?" Drift asked.

"Are you asking me to choose?" I asked, raising an optic ridge. "Or simply for more data points?"

"Chromia told me her opinion," Drift said and pointed at the one I happened to like more myself.

"Chromia has good tastes, I agree with her," I said bluntly. "That armor would look good on you."

"Ha! I told you!" Chromia said triumphantly.

"What do you think, Ironhide?" Drift asked, passing the datapad to the mech, who'd been standing there and watching silently.

Ironhide grunted as he accepted the datapad. "If two femmes are in agreement, I'd bet they're onto something." He said gruffly and then looked at the designs. "And they also have an optic for better protection. This armor is better suited for a mech that may be in the battlefield. I would be inclined to agree. That being said, if you like the other choices enough, I can make them, too, over time, for less dangerous occasions."

Drift looked surprised at this. "You'd do that?"

"Mech, most of us have more than one set of armor," Ironhide said. "For various reasons. One of which is sitting next to you with her side exposed."

I flinched a little, putting a hand self-consciously on my side. "At least the bandages cover it," I grumbled.

"We'll fit you with some temporary armor today so you have something while I work besides that," Ironhide said, looking at me with gentle optics. "Preliminary as well."

I sighed, tracing the damaged edge of the inner armor with a finger. "I appreciate that." I said softly.

"That goes for you, too, Drift," Ironhide said. "I've been told you don't even have preliminary armor."

"I do not," Drift said.

"I would've gotten to it sooner if the forge was up," Ironhide said regretfully as I blinked and slowly looked at Drift.

"How do I have prelim and not you?" I wondered quietly.

Drift frowned. "I lived on the streets before the war, proper armor was not something I could ever afford," he said. "And preliminary armor was not something afforded me by my commanders."

I narrowed my optics slightly. "Those fraggers," I said simply and decided to leave it at that.

"Indeed," Iornhide agreed.

"But how is it strange that you would have it when I did not?" Drift asked curiously.

I shifted my wing that had a bit more space to move. "I…that's a bit of a story," I said carefully. "Involving Shockwave, my father apparently, and a suspension of disbelief."

Drift frowned, tilting his helm.

I glanced up at Ironhide for encouragement and he nodded, optics communicating that he was here for me. Chromia's hand on my shoulder communicated the same thing.

So I told him, finally, the truth about me. At least part of it. That I had once been human, living in another reality where everything we knew here was a work of fiction. That I had been plucked from that reality by who I had thought was Shockwave, but had just learned was actually Vector Prime, a mech I was related to by CNA. About how I was given over to Shockwave and experimented on for years, turning me into the bot I was today. And then rescued by Vector Prime and sent here. For Primus even knew what reason.

"And now you are all caught up on Shadebreaker's Trauma Story, as told by Shadebreaker," I said, making jazz hands and speaking in a dry tone. "I mean, there's more, but that's the basics as far as understanding some of the weirder and confusing things I might say."

"Well, that explains Ratchet's words when I came to pick you up," Chromia said, pulling me in for a snuggle. "Finding out it was Vector and not Shockwave who took ya."

"It explains a great deal," Drift said, tilting his helm.

"And? What do you make of me now?" I asked, holding a hand out, palm up. "Think of me any different now that you know I was once an organic lifeform and have this weird mysterious past and have knowledge of which I may or may not tell you what it is?"

Drift look at me with a raised optic ridge. "Your story is what made you who you are," he said. "How could I judge you negatively when you have not judged me negatively? I am the one who has done bad things. You have merely had bad things done to you that you didn't deserve."

"Damn," I said. "Are you sure you have not encountered the Circle of Light?"

"Pardon?" Drift asked, tilting his helm.

"Nevermind," I waved it off, halfway smirking. "I appreciate your thoughts on the matter. How did you end up with the 'Cons for so long and come out so sweet?"

Drift raised an optic ridge. "I do not think anyone else would ever call me 'sweet'." He said dryly. "If you had met me even five months ago you would've found me cruel and vindictive and any number of other negative descriptors."

"Ah, but remember, that was then," I reminded, holding up a finger. "I judge on the now."

"Very well," Drift said. "In the now, I have a sweet teacher." He looked at me. "And I endeavor to make her proud of me."

Ironhide and Chromia both chuckled.

"Well, you learn well, then, young Padawan," I said, feeling tears in my optics.

Ironhide shook his helm while Chromia wrapped her arms around me and tickled.

"Padawan, eh? What are you filling this young mech's helm with, fembot, eh?" She asked, teasing.

I giggled, squirming and pushing her hands away. "He knows it's a joke," I said, grinning. "Mostly."

Drift grinned, optics sparkling. "Mostly."

"Can we get back on track now? We have a lot to do," Ironhide requested.

"I think I will go with the armor the femmes picked for now," Drift said. "Though I like the middle one for backup, perhaps."

Ironhide nodded, making notes in his datapad. Then he pulled a different one and passed it to me. "This one has different styles for femmes. We'll have to modify whatever you choose given your frame is different from any I have made armor for before, but it can give us a rough idea of what you'd like. We can, of course, stick with the style you came with. Nothing is really wrong with it, though I'd like to reinforce some areas if we do that. And do something about the lack of protection you have on those wings of yours."

I nodded in understanding as I listened to him. I figured he wouldn't have anything exact to look at. It's not exactly like beast formers were common. It was no surprise to me that I was Ironhide's first beast former customer.

"I'm going to take Drift to get him fitted for his temporary armor," Ironhide said, motioning for the mech to get up. "And do the scans I need for measurements for his regular armor."

"Ok," I said, watching as Drift stood and walked away with the mech for a moment before turning my attention to the datapad.

Chromia and I went through the datapad for quite some time, going over the different armor designs. We discussed a few options and I pointed out what I did and didn't like about each one as Chromia made notes in a little notepad feature for Ironhide. I tried not to think about how much part of me wanted to learn how to make the armor myself. I wanted to learn how to do everything even remotely creative if I was honest.

"What if-" I started as I tried to contain ideas bouncing around in my helm.

"Slow down, femme," Chromia chuckled at me as I bounced slightly.

"Sorry," I said and sat on my hands.

"You are awfully excited now that we've gotten into this, but I need time to make notes," Chromia said, looking highly amused as she finished writing. "There'll be plenty of time during the process for you and Ironhide to go over what ifs. This is just seeing what kind of looks you seem drawn to for now."

"Ok," I said, sighing a bit. "I just…always wanted to make my own armor back when I was human and never had the money for the supplies or tools, so…I might have got a little over excited to be able to customize my new armor. Anything creative my processor can go wild with sometimes. Writing, too. And painting things. Not, like, on a canvas, but, like miniatures. I painted several miniature dragons back home and had a model of Optimus I was supposed to paint, but hadn't yet."

Chromia chuckled at all that, listening with patience as I info-dumped about the reason I was getting excited. "Ironhide will enjoy that enthusiasm." She said. "And I bet, if you ask nicely he might even let you help."

"Yeah?" I asked, wings perking up as I brightened.

"Yeah," Chromia said. "You'd have to listen to him and follow everything he said, though. If he says not to touch something you don't touch it."

"I would," I said earnestly. "I wouldn't dream of not listening to him."

"Then I'm sure he'll let you," Chromia said, smiling. "Maybe you could be his apprentice." She winked.

I grinned at that. I had always written my characters to be Ratchet's apprentice in the stories I wrote and I often helped the medic in medbay, but…I looked around the forge with ideas in my helm. Something more creative would suit me more if I was honest with myself. And this would be creative and helpful.

Chromia chuckled at me. "Give me some time to talk to him about it first, femme," she said. "Butter him up for ya, as the humans say."

I chuckled a bit. "I should probably heal first anyhow," I replied easily, not entirely sure Ironhide needed much convincing, but knowing Chromia didn't want my hopes to get dashed on the off chance he said no.

"Indeed," Chromia said. "Now, let's get more data points while we wait for the mechs, eh?"

"Let's," I agreed readily.

By the time they returned, Drift sporting a set of plain temporary armor, we had a whole lot of notes for Ironhide of my likes and dislikes. They were very thorough.

"Alright, fembots," Ironhide said. "Time for Shadebreaker's fitting and scans."

"Great," Chromia stood, stretching languidly in a way that showed off her frame. "We'll do that while you iron out any kinks in Drift's temp armor." She passed him the datapad.

His optics took in the notes.

"There's plenty to keep you busy the next few days," Chromia said, grinning.

"Hmm," Ironhide hummed appreciatively. "I can appreciate notes."

I grinned at that and then let myself be pulled away by Chromia before I could say anything that might give away our idea of apprenticeship.

"Come on, fembot," Chromia said, sounding amused.

I grinned, wings fluttering as I followed her without any fight.

Now that I was in the room with the express purpose to use it, rather than have a heavy conversation, I looked around. It was small in comparison to the other room, but still big in its own right. Armors and prelims filled the space on one side while a big mirror took up one wall. A big machine stood across from the armors with a monitor and console sitting next to it and that's where Chromia led me first.

"Here's the scanner that will take your measurements for Ironhide," Chromia said, motioning to it. "You just stand still in the middle with your arms out and it will do the rest. You aren't claustrophobic, are you?"

"A little bit, but this shouldn't bother me," I replied, eyeing it. "It's similar enough to some of Ratchet's scanners, but a little bigger and standing up. And I can cope well enough with those."

Chromia nodded. "Stand with pedes apart, arms out, but not all the way, like this," she demonstrated her meaning. "Probably keep your wings out from your frame as well, and still. Not sure you have enough room to stretch them completely, but a little would be good."

I nodded. "Got it," I said, then looked at the machine again.

It did look a little imposing, but I was sure that feeling would pass in time, especially if Ironhide accepted me as an apprentice and I had the opportunity to understand it more. Understanding things always made them less worrisome. I went from being terrified of snakes to absolutely loving them after growing to understand them.

Chromia moved to the console and then motioned me to move into position. I did so and she typed some commands. I listened to the hum and sounds of the machine as it came to life and began doing its job. Chromia had me shift my wings into a different position for a second scan and I tracked the scanner with my optics whenever it passed in front of me on this one, feeling the tingle in my wings.

"Alright," Chromia said. "That should do it. I think your wings might be tricky, but Ironhide will enjoy the challenge." She ghosted her hand over one of them as I stepped out.

"I have ideas of my own," I said, turning my helm and looking at them. "Though, Ironhide will know more about what's possible." I smiled at Chromia.

Chromia smiled back. "Now," she said, pulling a chip from the console and plugging it into a datapad. "These measurements will also help us set you up with some temporary prelim and regular armor. Your back pieces are fine, so we'll leave them for now since we don't have any that accommodate your kind of wings. It'll just look funky."

"Temporary funkiness is a small price for proper coverage," I said dryly, touching my side self-consciously again. "I expected as much when it sounded like the forge had just gotten to running status. Plus the fact my wings sit so differently from those of Seekers and Praxians."

"Yup," Chromia said as she pulled some pieces from the rack. "Do you need some help stripping?"

"I think I got it," I said, shrugging.

It was a slow process, my frame didn't yet like some of the ways I had to bend to reach clasps on my armor. But I was able to get most of my armor off by myself. I did have trouble with the more severely damaged pieces and Chromia ended up helping with them, careful not to aggravate my healing injury.

"Slag," Chromia winced at the mostly healed scars across my frame that were free from the bandages now.

"Yeah," I said, wrapping my wings around myself self-consciously. "It was… a lot. But…I got through. And didn't tell them slag."

"I was less concerned with that and more with you, but that's impressive," Chromia said softly, a note of respect in her tone. "I'm sorry we couldn't find you sooner. We tried."

"I know," I said quietly. "I remember how hard we all tried to find Bulkhead. I trusted you all put the same into finding me. I mean…I doubted some. But…I tried not to let that doubt sink in. Told myself it was my own lack of feeling of self worth creeping in and that those were lies. I knew Megatron was unlikely to make it easy to find and rescue me. I just…found whatever hope I could in each moment and held onto it as tightly as I could. And…I told myself that if you didn't, that at least I could know that I could live with knowing I wasn't giving in. That he couldn't break me. If Shockwave couldn't when he tried to make me his slave, sure as pit Megatron couldn't."

Chromia smiled sadly at that. "You really are a resilient femme, huh?"

"For all the suckiest reasons," I said, giving her finger guns.

Chromia shook her helm at me. "Let's get this armor on."

She helped me re-armor up, careful of the pieces that didn't quite fit right. Ironhide would adjust those pieces, she assured me. She would take Drift outside while it was done to protect my decency and there would be no worries of Ironhide doing anything inappropriate.

Once I was fully armored, we went back out to the others. Ironhide and Drift had moved over to the forge and Drift was sporting a bare shoulder as Ironhide worked the piece that would cover it with a mallet on the anvil.

We walked over quietly and I flinched a little at the way some of the armor pinched and poked. "Adjustments definitely need made," I grumbled a little, twisting a little to tug at a particularly annoying edge.

"'Hide will take care," Chromia reassured gently as we approached.

"Not quite fitting either?" Drift asked, looking at me as we finished our approach, me still squirming a bit.

"No," I said. "Kinda expected that mine would need adjustments, though."

"It always does," Ironhide gruffed, looking over the shoulder piece. He looked satisfied with it and then plunged it into what I assumed was some kind of cooling vat that sat next to the anvil. "We'll get it sorted, though."

I nodded as I watched him pull the armor piece from the cooling vat. He took it from the tongs and turned it over in his hands, inspecting it. When he seemed satisfied with it, he turned, picked up another piece that had been set aside, standing and approaching Drift.

"Alright, let's try these pieces again," Ironhide said, fitting the pieces both over his shoulder. "How's that feel?"

As Ironhide backed up, Drift tilted his helm and moved his shoulder in a circle before outstretching his arm. "A ton better, thank you." He said, tone both genuine and grateful.

Ironhide nodded, looking pleased. "Perfect," he said. "You're all set for now, then. And I'll have your spark casing bits to Ratchet as soon as I have it separated from the rest of your old armor."

My optics widened, not that they could see it. I filed away that the Decepticons had that practice in this reality. Or, at least, they had it at some point. It would be good to know if we got anymore defectors—my mind went to Knock Out and Breakdown, wondering what decision they would come to.

"Thank you," Drift said gratefully.

"Of course," Ironhide said kindly.

"Come on, mech," Chromia said. "We're gonna wait outside while Ironhide helps Shade' sort out her temp armor."

"Very well," Drift said.

The two of them departed as Ironhide asked me what pieces I could already tell were ill-fitted. I told him, picking a bit at the edge of the armor on my waist and shifting my right pede a little bit. As I did so, a piece plopped off from my thigh and I caught it on reflex.

"Ope," I said, blinking. "I could tell that was loose." My tone was dry.

Ironhide chuckled. "I will take that and the matching piece on the other side," he said gently.

"Ok," I said, removing the piece on my other thigh. I passed them to him with one hand while placing my other on the piece on my waist.

"If you are comfortable, I can take the piece on your waist now as well," Ironhide said, setting the thigh pieces aside. "Just let me check how it is fitting so I know how to adjust it."

I considered it for a moment as he poked and prodded. I listened to myself how I felt with him this far in my bubble, touching me in this fashion.

"I trust you enough that the discomfort of the fit is more than the exposure," I said, voice a little vulnerable.

Ironhide nodded. "Alright," he said, removing the piece for me. Then he checked the prelim armor piece. "I'll have to adjust this, too. I'll have you remove it. And check your thigh prelims."

I shifted and moved for a moment before taking those off and passing them to him. "I think there's a shoulder piece too," I glanced at my left shoulder.

"Good audial," Ironhide smiled gently as I moved my arm a bit more with a frown. "It's not very bad, I almost didn't hear the rubbing myself."

"I got sensitive audials," I said quietly. "That rubbing would bother me even if it wasn't a problem." I removed the shoulder piece and then moved my arm again. "Prelim piece seems fine."

Ironhide chuckled softly. "I will get these taken care of and then we can check if there is anything else."

I nodded and then moved to sit on a stool when he motioned toward one that was nearby. I watched him work with rapt attention as he inspected a piece before beginning his work on it. He treated each piece with just as much care and attention as I remembered giving to my dragons I used to paint.

When he would hammer the pieces was the only bit that made me second guess my thoughts of being his apprentice. It was loud as heck each time he struck. But it was predictable, there was a rhythm to it that was almost calming in a way. By the time he was done with the first piece, the second guessing was faded and I was at peace in the presence of the noises caused by his forging.

Of course, it might feel differently if I was the one doing all that. I doubted it would be different in a negative way, though.

"There we are," Ironhide said after finishing the last piece and inspecting it. He passed it to me, as he had done each piece as he'd completed them. He checked the fitting himself as he felt the need. "Try that now."

I placed the shoulder armor back on and then shifted my arm in different ways, listening for the rubbing sound from before. "Perfect," I said simply with a small smile.

"Alright, now I'll have you walk and move a bit to see if there is anything else," Ironhide told me, motioning with a hand.

I did so, moving my frame and limbs in different ways to make sure I had full movement without anything catching. Everything else seemed in order. "It seems fine."

Ironhide nodded in agreement. "I'm not seeing or hearing anything either," he agreed. "Let me know, though, if something feels off later, alright? We can always do more adjustments later."

"Alright," I said as I came back to stand before him, looking up at him. He wasn't very taller than me, but enough that I had to look up.

He reached out and rubbed my helm fondly. "Now, I believe 'Mia and Drift are waiting for you, so you ought to scamper along now," he said, smiling gently. "I'll go over all your notes and we'll talk more at length next you come in, how's that?"

My wings lowered a bit in disappointment, having hoped to talk more about it now, but I understood he needed time to go over everything and he had stuff to deal with regarding Drift's old armor. Namely the mech's spark chamber bits, which seemed rather important.

"Sounds fair," I said after a moment, accepting I couldn't hold all his time. We probably weren't the only two bots in need of new armor either. "When will the next time be?"

"Hmm," Ironhide hummed, considering me with a small amused sparkle in his optics. "I will have to let you know, but hopefully it will not be too long. You and Drift are the most urgent cases I have to work on, after all. I don't foresee it being more than a couple days, but it also depends upon mission need."

"Alright," I said easily, accepting that answer.

I gave Ironhide a hug and then slipped away to meet Chromia and Drift outside. I found them lingering not far from the door, Chromia leaning against the side of the building and watching as Drift knelt to interact with a bunny.

I paused the moment I saw it, almost afraid to approach and scare the bunny away. But the bunny had already heard me and had turned from sniffing his outstretched finger to stare at me with its wide eyes. I looked it over with its orange and white fur. Domestic was my first thought. Had a human snuck a pet bunny in and then lost it?

Drift shifted his fingers to try to regain the bunny's attention and one ear shifted at the sound, but the creature didn't turn back.

Very, very slowly, I lowered myself as Drift was, hoping to demonstrate I was not a threat. I lowered a hand, palm up but fingers curled. I was much too far to reach the bunny, it would have to hop to me. But the movement still caused the bunny to hop twice away before it stopped and looked back, hesitating. It hopped around to look at me again, but when Drift moved just very slightly it hopped away entirely this time.

"Ah well, almost had a bunny in your hand, mech," Chromia said, sounding amused.

"That was a domestic bunny," I frowned. "I had not seen any among the wildlife. It must belong to one of the humans and escaped their home. They're probably looking for them." I tilted my helm.

"Are the humans allowed pets on base?" Drift asked.

"No," Chromia said. "Unless one of the children convinced someone to make an exception, maybe."

"Bunnies are not typically military animals," I said, standing up. "If we started seeing typical domestic animals around, I would've expected military dogs, or even rats for search and rescue or bomb squad. I haven't heard of bunnies having a role. Perhaps we can ask June if Jack, Raf or Miko got a bunny. And if it's missing."

"Will it be alright?" Drift asked.

"Domestic bunnies do not typically thrive in the wild," I replied. "They don't have the instincts. But they are also hard to catch, because bunnies are not very quick to trust and are very fast, but also very fragile. Left alone, I doubt that bunny will see longer than a month or two. Maybe a little longer, since we're in the tropics and won't see a true winter, but still."

"I can read on your face you don't want that bunny to die," Chromia said, smiling gently. "I'll alert the appropriate people and they will take care of it. I'm sure it's like you said, one of the kids got someone to make an exception for them and they chose bunny and bunny escaped."

I nodded. "I appreciate that," I said. "The humans will likely have a better chance anyways. Between our size and my wings likely making me somewhat resemble a predator. My coming out was probably the worst timing for catching it."

"I also did not know catching it might be needed," Drift admitted with a tilt of his helm. "There is much I do not know about this planet."

"You will learn it all in time," I reassured, clasping him on the shoulder as I approached him once he stood to his height. "Now, off to the showers we go."

Chromia chuckled at my chipper attitude, moving to lead the way.

Chapter Text

Chapter 26: Decision

To tell Ratchet. Not to tell Ratchet. That was the question I pondered as I stared out at the ocean from my chosen rock at the beach.

And as I wax poetic about it, everyday was more opportunity for me to miss my shot entirely with him to Drift. And I had yet to figure out if that was for the best. My worries about my fiancée suffering my same fate had been alleviated(a bittersweet thing as it confirmed I would never see him again), but that still left the fact that Drift existed in this reality and some part of me felt guilty about claiming Ratchet from him despite him not having a relationship with the medic beyond doctor-patient.

Of course, that was if Ratchet felt the same anyways. Which I didn't know. Because I was hesitating about talking to him. Because of my own pain. Because of Drift's existence and his other selves having a relationship with him. Because somehow I had fallen back into my old hesitations when it came to relationships. Because I had never expected to have to do this sort of thing twice.

Maybe Drift was the one I needed to talk to first? Maybe if I got his permission then perhaps I could stop hesitating so much. But how did someone even approach such a subject? It felt like such an awkward and strange thing to do. And it didn't feel like the right thing to do.

"I thought I'd find you here," Elita's voice reached my audials, interrupting my thought process.

I glanced back and down at the femme from my perch—the rock I had chosen being large enough even Optimus would have to climb to reach me here at the far end of the beach. "Good morning, Elita," I called down.

"Good morning," Elita replied, smiling in amusement.

"Should I come down?" I inquired.

"No need, I will be up in a moment," Elita told me.

I watched as she climbed the rock with an ease that told me she had climbed many similar surfaces over the course of her life. I wondered if any of them had been before the war, or if it was one of the many skills she'd developed as a result of it.

"Welcome to the Rock of Thinking," I greeted her once she was beside me, sitting down at my side with barely a gust of air.

"The Rock of Thinking, huh?" Elita asked in amusement.

"I am doing much thinking, thus it is the Rock of Thinking," I said simply, grinning slightly.

Elita chuckled lightly.

"Anyways," I said. "What brings the femme commander out to see the slightly infirm?"

"Visiting is all," she replied. "I wanted to see how you were doing. I haven't had a chance to do so since our last Cy-Stan lesson prior to the one you asked to reschedule."

I shifted a wing self-consciously. "I'm sorry," I said quietly. "I…had a lot on my mind. Has…Chromia or Ratchet told you what happened when Chromedome went in to deal with the code Soundwave put in to disable my T-cog?"

"They did," Elita said gently. She touched my hand softly. "I'm sorry to hear."

I sighed. "The universe refuses me a proper biological father, it seems," I said. "My human one sucked, too. Is what it is." I shrugged. "Don't be sorry for me. Be sorry for him. Someday he will face the consequences of his actions and it will not be pretty and he will realize how utterly alone he is. And that is sad."

"You've come to terms with it, then?" She asked.

"Somewhat," I said. "I mean, it still sucks and hurts and I will never stop missing everyone I loved before. But…at least I know now no one else is likely at risk. Or, at least, it appears that way. Some small part of me will always worry if that was a lie he told to Shockwave, but I have to hope that it wasn't. Until it is proven otherwise."

Elita lifted her hand and rubbed my shoulder. "Is that what you're out here thinking about?"

"Hmm," I hummed, debating whether to tell her or not. "No. Actually," I hesitated a moment before deciding if anyone could give me advice on a delicate matter it would be her. "I'm thinking about Ratchet. And Drift."

"Oh," Elita said, sounding both amused and perplexed. "I think I know why you are thinking about Ratchet, but why Drift, too?"

"I know of him from a different reality," I said. "A comic that takes place far, far in the future." I lifted a hand and waved it in an arch. "After the war, you know. Part of why I accepted his genuine turn so easily. The Drift I knew through that comic had been an Autobot for a long, long time, having made the turn many, many years in the past. That Drift was Ratchet's conjunx endura by the end of that comic's run."

"Ahh," Elita said. "So, you are afraid Drift might snatch Ratchet from you if you do not act on your feelings?"

"And I have not figured out if maybe he should," I said. "I mean, I haven't talked to Ratchet, obviously. I mean, clearly I'm not the greatest at hiding my feelings if you know I have them."

Elita chuckled lightly. "I am observant, my friend," she said. "I have noticed some looks from you during our lessons and the way you behave with each other. I didn't need Arcee's insistence or you not fully denying it to figure it out."

"Ah," I said, cooling vents activating. "I see. Well…" I cleared my throat. "Still…When I wrote fanfiction, back when I was human, I had a policy of never breaking up canon couples in any way. I never even worked around them, by having characters meet prior or using death or some such. I mean, some fandoms, Transformers being one, had alternate realities where pairings could differ even within canon but some were always hard and fast, like you and Optimus or Chromia and Ironhide. Ratchet and Drift weren't so much, but that was partially because Drift didn't exist in many realities. I just…I don't know…I guess I'm not sure what I'm supposed to be doing with these feelings. I mean, I know this isn't the same. I should feel no obligation to put myself under those rules and I certainly shouldn't be holding those two to them.

"Even if I step back they still might not get together, so why should I let a theoretical relationship that may not happen stop me? I dunno what push I need at this point." I sighed, shaking my helm. "I had thought finding a confirmation that my fiancée was really not part of life's equation anymore would be all I needed to give myself permission but I still find myself stalling. And is it really just Drift or is part of me still not ready to move on despite the feelings being there? I don't know. Part of me wonders if talking to Drift about it first might help, but he's got a lot going on learning how to leave his Decepticon past behind him, he doesn't need to add my romantic struggles on top of that. And it doesn't feel like an ok thing to talk to him about either."

"He does not need it, you're right," Elita agreed dryly. She rubbed my shoulder sympathetically. "As for rightness, it's a little dubious."

"It was easier talking to my old partner," I sighed. "Simpler back then. We met in a theater. Didn't have all this other stuff to worry about. I didn't have this weird knowledge about a mech who could potentially end up being his partner."

Elita chuckled, shaking her helm. "The curse of knowledge." She said. "But like you said yourself, you don't have to hold them to that relationship. This isn't like the stories you wrote. This isn't that other reality either and the future isn't written in stone." She rubbed my shoulder. "The three of you are all free to follow whatever path you want."

My wings lifted some as her words helped me feel encouraged. "Masters of our own fate, eh?" I asked.

"Optimus would say 'freedom is the right of all sentient beings'," she said, smiling with sparkling optics.

"I guess if Vector came and griped about me dating Ratchet because timeline shenanigans that would be overbearing," I chuckled. "Like a whole timekeepers scenario like in Loki."

"What?" Elita asked, looking amused.

"It's a show in the Marvel Universe," I said. "Very good. I would highly recommend it, if it existed in this reality, but I don't know if it does, given Stark is real here."

"Alright," Elita said, smiling lightly.

"So your advice is to screw what happened in the other timeline and talk to Ratchet like the brave femme I am instead of hiding like the coward I am pretending to be?" I asked to clarify.

"I never called you a coward," Elita said gently. "I would never call you that."

"No, but it is what I called myself about it," I said. "I was very brave about my fiancée, approaching the subject first with him, asking for his number and taking the steps when I did. But with Ratchet I have done nothing but stall and hesitate and hide from my feelings out of fear and uncertainty. The very opposite of facing my problems head on like I prefer to do."

"That doesn't make you a coward," Elita said gently. "That just makes you Cybertronian." She rubbed my shoulder again. "Many bots find it difficult to talk to the one they fall for about their feelings for the first time for a variety of different reasons."

"Did you have difficulty talking to Optimus?" I asked curiously.

"Are you kidding?" Elita asked, smiling wanly. "Of course I did. I mean, ours was an arranged meeting initially, but even so, when feelings came into the picture, it wasn't an easy subject. He had become Prime by then and our courting had been all but forgotten with the war breaking out. It would've never gone through had we not fallen for each other."

"So semi-arranged, semi-not," I said, somewhat amused by that.

"If it wasn't for the arrangement, I don't know that we would've met," Elita said, optics sparkling. "But I'm very glad we did. After he was made Prime and the war broke out, I thought it was over. But he made time for me and I had earned his trust as an advisor early on, so that helped. It just didn't leave much time for romance."

"I imagine," I said. "But you made it work. You ended up loving each other enough to make it work. I can't imagine many arrangements making it through the starting period in such a scenario."

"Me either," Elita agreed. "But, back to your question, the answer is yes. I do believe you should tell Ratchet of your feelings. Be brave. I have a fairly good feeling you will be pleased by the result." She gave me a knowing smile.

"Ohhh," I said, optics sparkling. "You think he likes me back."

"I didn't say that," Elita said, but the look on her face confirmed it.

"You can't fool me, I've learned how to read you," I said, tone filled with humor as I lightly poked her shoulder.

Elita chuckled at that and I grinned wider.

I nearly ran into Ironhide on the way into medbay and stopped abruptly, stepping aside to let him out.

"Ah, there you are," Ironhide said, smiling. "I was looking for you, but Ratchet said you weren't in and your intercom isn't working."

"Ah, yeah, I need Ratchet to look at it again," I said. "It's been all persnickety since getting back. What's up?" I shifted a wing, resisting the urge to look past him into medbay. I had been hoping to talk to Ratchet sooner than later now that I had come to a decision to do so. Once I made a decision, I didn't like hesitating too long. Lest indecision take hold again.

"I'm ready to go over some designs for your new armor," Ironhide replied, a cheerfulness in his tone.

"Ooo," I said, conversation with Ratchet not forgotten, but momentarily distracted from. I hesitated, torn. "Um, I had something I wanted to talk with Ratchet about…"

"I'm afraid he's gonna be busy for a next few hours," Ironhide said, frowning as he considered me. "He was just preparing to repair Drift's spark casing and it's a very delicate operation. Is it urgent?"

"Oh, uh, no," I said, frame sinking slightly, but recovering quickly.

"Did you need some pain meds? Ratchet can comm me which ones you need…?"

I shook my helm. "No, the ones from this morning are still going strong," I assured him. "It can wait till later or tomorrow or whenever he has time. I can come talk armor now."

Ironhide considered me for a moment before motioning for me to walk with him. "Aside from armor, there is another thing I needed to discuss with you," he said.

"Hm?" I hummed in question, tilting my helm where an audial tilted more upward toward him as we walked down the street.

"Chromia tells me you expressed interest in becoming my apprentice," Ironhide said and I saw him watching me. "Specifically, she said she suggested an idea of you helping when you mentioned having always wanted to make your own armor and you seemed ecstatic about the idea and even more so at the idea of apprenticeship."

My optics brightened and my wings perked, fluttering a bit as the idea was brought up again, this time by the mech. "Indeed," I confirmed. "I-" My wings fluttered, even as I stopped myself from going on an info-dumping spiel. "I would love to learn from you. It would be amazing." My wings fluttered again.

Ironhide chuckled. "I can see what she meant by enthusiasm," he said. "You are bouncing."

I realized he was right and I consciously smoothed my walk so as not to irritate my healing frame.

"You would have to follow my instructions," Ironhide said. "Especially in regards to safety."

"I would," I said, nodding, lowering my wings in deference to him. "I would not touch anything until you told me it was ok to do so."

"That includes only touching some things with my supervision for a while during your training," Ironhide said firmly.

"Yes sir," I nodded emphatically. "I understand forge tools are dangerous and need to be used certain ways of which I am unfamiliar yet. I know very well about being careful."

Ironhide gave me a dubious look.

"Ser-ket situations notwithstanding," I admitted sheepishly, embarrassed. "And I have no plans to do that anymore. Will definitely be approaching Ser-ket encounters differently from now on."

"You best do that," Ironhide gruffed. He reached over and tweaked my wing. "Once you are healed, we will be upping your combat training if you wish to remain in the field."

"I would and I would very much like more training opportunities," I said, nodding, unbothered by the way he said that. "Drift will need it, too."

"That mech's been fighting for well over centuries," Ironhide gruffed.

"With guns, maybe," I replied, reflecting his gruff tone, having picked the same tone up from Ratchet already anyways.

Ironhide raised an optic ridge.

"He admitted to me yesterday having only ever received training in firearms," I told Ironhide quietly.

"Really? No hand-to-hand? At all?" Ironhide looked as shocked as I had been.

"Nope," I said, shifting a wing. "I was rather shocked myself to find out. I taught him some katas and moves, but he can only learn so much while in recovery. Motions, only the ones that don't irritate his frame. And I'm sure he'll have more restrictions after his surgery today."

"Mhm," Ironhide agreed. "We'll make sure he is properly trained, then, if he wishes."

"He seems to. I hope not just because I have offered it," I said, frowning. "He goes along with what I offer quite a lot."

"He seems to have a lot of respect for you," Ironhide said. "It's not a bad thing. You earned it. You have shown him kindness where a lot of bots would shove him aside or even knock him when he is down. He appreciates that. Just make sure you don't take advantage."

"I would never dream of it!" I emphasized. "I'm hopeful he knows how to say no if I ever do push him outside of his comfort or tell him a wrong thing in general. But I don't know how to test that without going outside my comfort. I'm not sure how to impart that lesson. I may need help with that."

Ironhide reached over and rubbed my shoulder. "I'm sure he will garner many teachers while with us," he said. "It will not all be on you to teach him. It wouldn't be fair to expect that of you when you are still learning so much about our culture yourself."

I sighed and relaxed. "That's true," I said. "In some ways I am very much capable, but there is a great deal I do not know. But I know where to go to find out the answers. And if he asks me something I don't know, I can always tell him 'Let's ask someone who knows the answer'."

"Exactly," Ironhide nodded, smiling in approval. "And no one expected you to become his teacher to begin with, you did that to yourself."

"Indeed," I said dryly. "As a joke that turned serious. I mean, it was only partially a joke…the title of Padawan was a joke, but I did decide I would teach him things if he wanted to learn things I had to teach and he was very open."

Ironhide chuckled. "And that wasn't at all influenced by your knowledge, I suppose?"

I grinned sheepishly, cooling fans betraying me. "Maybe a little, but we also were spending so much time together as medbay inmates," I replied. "I will admit said knowledge is why I asked Optimus if he had information about Spectralism."

"I had wondered," Ironhide said, optics sparkling. He had been present when I had asked the Prime.

"It's actually been very interesting," I said as we walked. "The ideals are not that dissimilar to ours or to what I grew up with. I…haven't come to a conclusion how I feel about auras and all that, though. Or, I guess, specifically, how it might apply to me in particular. I'm still sorting through my religious crisis as Drift put it. Crisis feels the most accurate term I've come up with. Or confusion, maybe. I don't know."

Ironhide rubbed my shoulder again. "So, in learning it to teach Drift, which I hope you aren't pressuring him to believe, mind you, you are also trying to solve your own religious dilemma," he said.

"Yes, and I'm not pressuring him on anything," I said. "I merely invited him to study with me under no obligation to believe any of it. He has been insightful in his own ways. It helps to have a study buddy. He seems to enjoy the activity quite a bit, though. I daresay, Drifts are multiversally inclined toward the spiritual."

Ironhide chuckled at that.

"We got very far off topic from me being your apprentice," I commented dryly.

"Indeed," Ironhide said. "I think I would love to have an enthusiastic apprentice. Just be careful to temper that enthusiasm with caution about safety." His tone was stern as we approached the Forge.

"Yes sir!" I said, saluting him with a grin and barely contained excitement.

I spent several hours with Ironhide talking about the design of my armor and what the process would entail. It took those hours because he was very thorough about the reasons for each placement of armor and such.

Also because I had a particular idea about some wing armor that required very intricate and careful planning to make work with my wing structure, but I could tell from the sparkle in his optics that Ironhide was excited at the prospect of doing something he'd never done before. Most winged bots didn't have wings quite like mine and the armoring that did exist on their wings was always thinner overall. Some of the armor I was considering involved some thicker pieces at the top edge if we could find a way to make it work.

But now it was after that and I had left Ironhide to work some more on Drift's armor while we sat on what we'd come up with for mine. He would allow me to start working with him after I had read his manuals about forge care thoroughly. I complained a little bit about it, but accepted the importance of the knowledge.

I poked back into medbay, looking around the main room to see if Ratchet was there. It was empty and my spark sank a little in disappointment. It also gave a nervous jitter as I went looking through the building for him, checking first in the room I knew he performed sensitive surgeries in to see if he was still working on Drift.

"Nope," I muttered, seeing the ex-Con, but no Ratchet. My optics saddened to see the mech hooked up to tubes after he'd been walking around close to completely well the last couple days.

Then I continued on my search, checking around and prodding him a bit through our friendship bond. Eventually I found him in the laundry room, arms covered in suds as he washed them.

What a romantic setting, I thought to myself dryly, wondering if I should've set up some kind of date for this.

"Ratchet?" I asked quietly, trying not to cringe at how vulnerable my voice was.

Ratchet paused at my voice and looked over his shoulder at me in concern. He looked me up and down and I suddenly felt self-conscious about my plain, unpainted armor. "Shade'? Is something wrong? Are you hurt?"

"N-no," I shook my helm and rubbed my arm a bit. "But I was wondering if we could talk?" The laundry room really wasn't where I'd imagined having this conversation. Nor did I imagine having it in plain, temp armor. But here we were.

Ratchet frowned, considering me. He looked back at the sink and his suds covered arms. "Give me a minute to finish up here, then we can talk. Why don't you go wait for me in the medic lounge?"

The medic lounge sounded at least better. I nodded. "Ok," I said, smiling a bit.

I moved away before anything else could happen and found my way to the lounge easily enough. I entered and looked around. I had spent many lunches and dinners in here with Ratchet since the medbay had been built. It was much more suited to this kind of talk. At least, when it pertained to us. I was sure many would find it an appalling place. The beach would have been nice, but so was this.

I sat at the table and leaned back in the chair, folding my hands over my belly and looked up at the ceiling. I pushed lightly against the floor to tilt the chair back, balancing on the back two feet as I thought about how to approach the subject with Ratchet.

I could just come out and say it. I could ask him out on a date. I could simply ask if he wanted to go out to the beach with me sometime, but we did that from time to time already as it is. Nothing about just asking him to go somewhere really made it clear why. This was supposed to be a confession conversation, not asking him to hang out to confess while hanging out. It's not exactly like we had any proper date locals on base besides the beach.

I suppose I could ask around for some off planet locations I could portal us to, but that'd be a risk, I thought to myself. As much as anywhere on Earth outside the shielding.

I sighed a bit. I did decide to remove my visor for the conversation. It made me feel more vulnerable, but it felt appropriate given the intimate nature of my feelings and how I wanted to make sure he knew I was being genuine. The way it made my spark flutter more with anxiety almost made me put it back on, however.

"You're gonna fall," Ratchet said as he walked in, startling me and causing me to do just that.

I reached for the table to catch myself, but missed and found myself tumbling onto the ground off the chair. "Omph," I said and then sighed as I heard Ratchet walk over.

"Come on," Ratchet said gently, helping me sit up, optics running over me. "Any new pain?"

"Only to my feelings," I said, embarrassed. "And my pride. I rarely lose balance while doing that and I can usually catch myself."

"Yeah," Ratchet said dryly, looking mildly amused. "It's always fine until it's not."

"Hmm," I said, cooling fans kicking on as I looked down.

Ratchet's fingers brushed my cheek and I looked back up at him to see him looking at me with gentle optics.

"You took your visor off," he said gently.

I searched his face, hesitant. "I can put it back on…?"

Ratchet shook his helm. "I like seeing your optics," he confessed, fingers still touching my cheek. Then he seemed to remember himself and pulled his hand away. "I just thought you were more comfortable with it on."

"It makes me feel less vulnerable," I confessed quietly, watching him. "And gives me a bit of a sense of familiarity. I wore glasses as a human, so it's kinda similar."

"I understand," Ratchet said softly. He offered a hand to help me up and I took hold of his forearm for better leverage. "Does this mean you are comfortable being vulnerable with me?"

I swallowed a bit, not letting go of his forearm even after I was standing. "Yeah," I said softly. "Which is good, cause what I want to talk about makes me feel very vulnerable."

Ratchet looked at me with gentle optics. "I see," he said. "Would you rather we sit or stand?" He rubbed his thumb reassuringly over my arm.

I shrugged a little. Then I looked toward the couches. "Perhaps the couch?"

"Of course," Ratchet said gently and led me to the couch.

We sat on the same couch, sitting sideways so we could face each other. My wings made nervous motions and I saw Ratchet track them with his optics for a moment, attentive to my body language. He kept a hand on mine as he waited for me to speak.

"I, um," I said, feeling some heat rise in my cheeks.

This was so much more difficult than asking for a phone number and then just ending up kissing one day while playing video games on a couch—well, that was an oversimplification of it, there was so much going into that, but I remembered a lot less internal conflict and hesitation once the decision had been made. All that learning communication skills and it just left me here apparently.

I sighed slightly as he ran his thumb over my hand. I looked down at our hands for a moment, trying to think of words. What words had I used last time? I couldn't remember specific words for a first confession. My processor had filed that first kiss as the confession. There had been conversations that happened wherein we had each confirmed our feelings, late night confessions of "this feels like love", but nothing that would fit this kind of scenario right here.

I looked back up at Ratchet and saw he was starting to grow concerned at my prolonged silence.

"Shade'," he started gently, reaching his free hand up to brush my cheek.

I leaned into his touch, closing my optics, relishing it as he opened his palm for me to rest my cheek in. "Ratchet," I interrupted in his pause. "Please, I need to get this out. I'm just trying to find the words."

"You do not need to say anything fancy," he said as if he knew, or had a suspicion of what I was about to confess.

I opened my optics to look at him, emotion filling them. "I…I have feelings for you, Ratchet," I said softly. "Past the ones of friendship. I…somewhere along the way I found myself falling in love with you…with your kindness and gentleness…even your gruffness." I chuckled. "All the little things you do. For me. For the others. Our talks. Our time spent in silence. All of it."

"Even when I lecture you?" Ratchet asked dryly.

I chuckled lightly. "Maybe not then."

Ratchet chuckled in return. Then he grimaced and pulled his hands away, pulling away and I felt my spark break. "I…need to tell you something," he said. "I…already knew."

"What?" I asked, feeling my spark sink even more. Last time I heard those words they were followed up by a rejection.

Ratchet sensed my sudden emotional drop and reached back out, taking both my hands into his earnestly. "This is not a rejection," he said quickly. "I…I have feelings too. I-" He cut off and swallowed. He brought my hands to his lips and kissed my fingers lightly. "I have fallen in love with all those things about you, too. And your smile. And how I wish you wouldn't hide your optics, but I understand why you do." He reached out and cupped my cheek, tracing a line under one of my optics.

I smiled back in return to his own smile. "Then…why was telling me you already knew so heavy?" I asked, leaning into his palm again.

"Because of how I knew," Ratchet said. He looked regretful and then looked away from me. "While you were…away, I went into your room to straighten up."

"I could tell someone had been in there to do so," I said, halfway smiling. "You only did half the job, but I assumed you hadn't wanted to ruin my organized chaos."

Ratchet chuckled slightly at that. "Well, I was going to stack the datapads neatly," he said. "But when I picked up your picture of us to look at it I noticed your note on the back."

"Oh," I said. "I thought writing that down might kick me in the rear at some point."

Ratchet turned back to stare at me, clearly hearing the humor in my tone.

"Part of me almost wanted you to find it, if I am honest," I said, smiling sadly. "Kick me in the rear to get me to have this conversation. It is not like me to hide from my feelings. I mean, at one point it was, but not for a long time. I didn't know what I needed to move on. I thought if something didn't force my hand I might end up dancing around it forever." I shook my helm as he stared at me in shock. "I am no stranger to snooping out of curiosity rather than nefarious purposes, Ratchet. Am I thrilled? No. But I am not angry. Though I do wonder why you never said anything."

"You've had a lot on your mind already," Ratchet said gently. "I didn't think you'd want to add the start of a relationship to what you were already dealing with."

"Considerate," I allowed, squeezing his hand and pulling it in for me to kiss his fingers this time. "But unneeded. Also, when Elita completely called me out I resigned myself to the fact you had probably picked it up. We have a bond and I have been caught by people with less."

"Ah," Ratchet said. "And yet it still took you so long to come out and say it."

"It's not so simple this time as 'hey can I get your number' or just casually going through life together until we just naturally kiss. I felt like we needed the verbal communication," I said, chuckling. "With my history and your…well…youness."

Ratchet chuckled. "I think I could handle a kiss from you," he said, leaning toward me.

"Yeah?" I asked, leaning forward. "Was I totally overthinking the whole thing and could've just kissed you all along?"

"Why don't you do so and find out?" Ratchet asked, smirking.

I purred and then leaned forward a bit more to meet his lips with mine. He was kissing me back in an instant, wrapping his hand around the back of my helm. The kiss sent heat and electricity through my frame and I melted into it, closing my optics. I opened them again when he pulled away.

"Ok, yeah," I said quietly. "I know this feeling for sure."

Ratchet grinned, looking almost smug.

I raised an optic ridge at the expression. Then he leaned forward and gave me another kiss. Shorter, but no less impactful. I purred in response.

"So," I said as we shifted to cuddle. "I know partners are called sparkmates or conjunx enduras…are we…one of those now or…?"

"This would be considered the courting stage," Ratchet said, wrapping an arm around me as I snuggled into his side. "We intend to be sparkmates, which is the same as conjunx endura. Conjunx endura is the more proper and official term while sparkmate is the more common name."

"Ahh," I said. "I see. So Chromedome is simply more formal than Chromia and my using them interchangeably as I have is exactly right."

"Mhm," Ratchet said, kissing the top of my helm.

I hesitated. "What if…we didn't intend to be sparkmates?"

Ratchet froze his movements, frame going entirely still.

"I mean this purely as curiosity," I said. "Many humans never marry their partners. Some don't even intend to keep them long term. 'Courting' sounds like a term of commitment. Is it just a fling without that? Are there short term boyfriend-girlfriend type relationships? Do Cybertronians even do that sort of thing?"

"Some," Ratchet said grouchily, shifting. "There's not really a proper term for it besides, well, whore, but that's a…profession of sorts. Short term dating doesn't have a proper term for us the way it does for humans due to the fact it is not very common. Especially given the majority of us wait to be intimate until being sparkmates—that's often the marker of that stage of the relationship for many couples."

"Oh," I said, blinking at the fact such a profession existed for the Cybertronian race. "Well….that's not me. This is definitely courting for me…unless you don't want it to be, I guess…in which I'll leave…I…um…" I was hit with a sudden feeling that I should leave because why would he ever want me as a mate?

Ratchet tightened his hold, sensing my fretful feelings and sending me reassuring ones. "I do want it to be courting," he reassured. "I would've nipped this in the bud a lot quicker if I didn't."

"Oh ok," I said, relaxing. "I may need more reassurances as we go."

"I can do that," Ratchet promised

"Though, if we are doing this, I must ask," I said. "I asked my fiancée this early on, too. Kids. Yay or nay?"

"Yay," Ratchet replied without thinking about it. "Someday. Hopefully with the war over."

"That's fair," I said softly. "We can talk more about those thoughts later, but that's totally fair. I just have thoughts I need to speak and talk out with you on it. For my peace of mind. I do want kids, too, just so that's clear."

"I understand," Ratchet said, snuggling me. "We will have to run some tests to know if you can carry to begin with. With what Shockwave did and all."

"Also fair," I said. "But surrogates exists and adoption."

"Mhm," Ratchet agreed.

"And- oh! Ironhide said I can train as his apprentice!" I said excitedly, processor getting distracted. "I have to read his forge care manual first."

Ratchet chuckled. "You confess your feelings and then you tell me you aren't going to be my assistant after all."

"I never said I would be to begin with," I said, chuckling. "I'll still help out. I just won't be constantly hovering about."

"As long as you are happy," Ratchet said.

"I am," I said in content. I purred as he snuggled me. Then I remembered the other question I had had for him. "Oh yeah. I needed to ask you to look at my intercom. It's down again."

Ratchet grunted. "I will take a look," he said.

"Do you think Chromedome might need to get involved?" I asked, tone small even to my audials.

"No," Ratchet said softly. "We shouldn't need to do anything so drastic."

I sighed in relief at that. "It's been so finicky," I complained. "And I need it to work before I get back into the field."

"It will by then," Ratchet reassured. "Though I'd prefer if you didn't go out into the field."

"Sitting on the sidelines is just not for me, Ratchet," I said gently. "Even you go into the field sometimes."

Ratchet grumbled a bit and I smiled, patting his leg.

"It's ok," I said. "I can always count on you to patch me up. And I will do my best to need it less. Ironhide already said I will be getting more training after I finish healing. And I have no plans to continue the Ser-ket tactics employed thus far, even if requested. I will find another way if we cannot defeat her."

Ratchet sighed. "Optimus has been training hard with the Star Saber," he said. "Ideally we won't have to worry about that Predacon much longer."

"Indeed," I said dryly. "Just if Megatron decides to attach a deceased Prime's arm to his chassis to use the Forge."

Ratchet made a disgusted face. "Does he really think that would work?"

"It worked in the show," I said, shrugging a bit. "Morbid, but effective. Genuinely disturbing. I'd feel quite better if we got the Forge away from the 'Cons."

"I can understand the concern, despite my doubts," Ratchet said, rubbing my arm. "In the same way giving you his nanobots is not what made you Vector's daughter, an arm would not make Megatron part of the Lineage."

"Hmmm," I hummed, still having a lot of doubts and feelings surrounding the whole CNA-nanobot thing.

"You still doubt me?" Ratchet asked, a slight tease in his tone.

"I think there is a lot about the Thirteen we don't know as a collective," I said with a sigh. "And I haven't seen anything to prove or disprove your words or an arm working for Megatron. And with not much in the way of answers forthcoming about my relationship to Vector it is hard not to question that which is known. Especially after having what I thought I knew be proven incorrect already."

Ratchet sighed. "I can prove the nanobot stuff for you," he said. "At no risk to either of us, mind you."

I narrowed my optics slightly.

"Cross my spark," Ratchet said. "I would just need a small sample of each of our life-en containing our nanobots to show you that they would not interact with each other under a microscope."

I sighed. "Very well," I said. "It would take the small inklings of doubt away at least. Even if not providing any new information."

Ratchet kissed my cheek. "There you go," he said softly. "I don't see why you resisted that so hard."

"In the show you tested the partial formula for Synth-En on yourself and it made you behave unusually." I said with a sigh. "I was thinking about that. You almost died going after Megatron alone in that episode. Plus, well, you know how I feel about experiments. I'm a little touchy since Shockwave." I wiggled my fingers.

"And that's entirely fair," Ratchet said gently, brushing my cheek with his fingers and I purred. "We'll do the test in a little bit, if that's alright. I'd like to stay here and talk some more."

"I'd like that, too." I said softly, quite enjoying the snuggle time. "I am a bot of touch. I would spend all day snuggling if allowed. Most of the time. Unless I got terribly overstimulated. But even then…maybe with you it would still be ok. Overstimulated me could still find comfort from the fiancée's touch, after all."

Ratchet chuckled. "It is different with the one you love, isn't it?" He asked softly.

"Mhm," I agreed.

And so we settled in for a long talk about various topics. I told him a bit about why I had hesitated so long, figuring it was best to be open and honest about everything. That was how it had worked before and it was how I wanted to operate now. Relationships had to operate on integrity and trust to work.

He listened with a sympathetic audial and didn't judge me for my concerns. He was very reassuring with his replies and respectful with his reactions and touches and I appreciated it more than he could possibly understand.

It was a nice, calm talk. And I found myself at peace for the first time in a while.

Chapter Text

Chapter 27: Developments

"Good," Sunstreaker said as I blocked his blow with my practice sword. "You're still a little stiff with that pede-work, but you managed to block me still. That's progress. Even if I am going easy on you."

"Progress is good," I said, gusting air through my systems.

It had been a couple weeks since I'd been fully cleared for duty, frame healed from my time with the Decepticons. The time had been split between training under Ironhide for armor forging and combat training with several bots mostly.

During the course of painting my armor, a task the twin had assisted in, I had asked Sunstreaker if he could teach me swordplay and he had agreed more readily than I had expected with our disagreements about Drift. I appreciated it a lot, even if I could've theoretically asked a couple other bots, too.

"You're a good study," Sunstreaker said as we moved away from each other and he shifted into a different stance. "The fluidity of movement will come to you with practice and that's what our goal here is today."

I nodded and then moved as he lunged again, shifting my pedes as needed to get my blade into the right position to parry his blow. I didn't quite get the positioning right, so even though contact was made, his practice blade slid across mine to stab into my shoulder. I ducked and moved to avoid a swipe he took and lifted my blade to block the return blow he sent my way.

We kept training for some time, trading several blows with the practice swords as he guided me through putting the motions he had taught me into a more hands-on practice. As I started to become a bit smoother in my movements, he started picking up the speed. Not too much, just enough to be noticeable enough for me to have to adjust again. For me not to get complacent.

A ship flying overhelm distracted me after some time and he knocked me on my back with a hilt strike to my chin.

"Owww," I groaned. That had not been the first time I'd landed on my back.

"You can't afford to be distracted out in the field, femme," Sunstreaker admonished me.

"I gotcha," I said, accepting his help up, looking at the ship as it made its way toward the tarmac. It was clearly of Cybertronian make. "More bots, you think? Or neutrals making a pit stop?"

"I doubt many neutrals would make a pit stop here unless they're just unaware of the Decepticon presence," Sunstreaker replied dryly. "So they're at least dropping some bots off for us, I'd bet. I'm sure we'll find out who soon enough. Come on, back to it."

"Right," I said and moved with him back into position.

Dreadwing walked through the halls of the Nemesis with Spinister and Darkwing flanking him. His travel companions were silent, thankfully, as they traversed the halls to the bridge to meet with Megatron. Darkwing was actively catching up on the reports they'd been given to read—that Dreadwing and Spinister had already read through during the trip through the solar system.

He remained dubious of their leader's plan that had called them here, that had had them digging around back on Cybertron for what Dreadwing now carried in the case held at his side. He was not sure what Megatron hoped to accomplish.

He wasn't sure if he wanted to know why he had desecrated a grave.

"Ah, there you are," Megatron said pleasantly once they were standing before him.

"Yes and I have a few questions," Darkwing said.

Dreadwing had to fight not to show his annoyance with the smaller flier. Honestly the mech had had two cycles to read the reports and voice questions before now.

"Does this femme really have information about the future?" Darkwing asked skeptically. "And if Unicron is here…why are we?"

Megatron's lips curled in displeasure. "Darkwing, correct?"

"Yes, my lord," Darkwing replied.

"If memory serves, you've been a loyal Decepticon all these years and have been a valuable asset," Megatron said silkily. "You won me many battles back on Cybertron. So I'll forgive your insolence just this once." He leaned over, presence oozing menacing intent. "But if you ever question me again, you will know what it means to feel pain to your very core. Do you understand?"

"Y-yes, Lord Megatron," Darkwing stuttered a bit, feeling the very real threat behind his words.

"The answers you seek will be answered in due time," Megatron continued, standing back up to his full height. He looked back at Dreadwing. "Did you bring what I asked?"

"Yes, my lord," Dreadwing replied and held the case out to him. "Though I do not understand what you hope to accomplish with a dead mech's arm. It doesn't appear we are hurting for spare parts."

Megatron smirked, the expression looking close to something glee on the warlord's face. "That, too, you will understand in due time, Dreadwing," he said smoothly.

Darkwing shot the two larger mechs an incredulous look.

"You are dismissed to get settled and debriefed on the rest of your mission here," Megatron told the trio.

"Of course, my lord," Dreadwing bowed.

Then he led his travel companions back out of the bridge, where a Vehicon met them to escort them to their quarters.

"What the frag?" Darkwing complained. "How come you didn't get threatened with bodily harm for questioning him?"

"It's a matter of respect," Dreadwing replied. "Your tone lacks it. I have built my reputation upon it."

Darkwing scoffed at that, clearly not in agreement. "Whatever, kissaft," he said. "No such thing as respect in the 'Cons. Right? Tall, dark and silent?" Darkwing looked around Dreadwing at Spinister.

The dark red mech merely lowered his helm a little, red optics narrowing slightly. He made a noise that might be considered a grunt, but it was hard to tell.

Dreadwing sighed in annoyance. He was glad when the Vehicon came to his quarters and he could peel off from the two other Decepticons for the first time in two jours. Such a long timespan with only those two mechs as company was bound to drive any sane mech to the brink of insanity.

"Don't poke it if you don't know what it does," Ultra Magnus admonished.

Chromia chuckled as I looked up at the mech with a look I could even feel the defiance from and then proceeded to poke one of the shards he had added to our collection anyways.

"Do you intentionally disobey your superiors?" Ultra Magnus asked, tone irritated.

"It is a mild habit from what I have gathered," Prowl commented, watching as I puzzled over the new shard and how it compared to the ones we'd already gathered, which were currently in Wheeljack's lab for analysis.

"I do not," I said, standing up straight as I felt offended at Prowl throwing me under the bus.

"I believe we met when you left base before being cleared for active duty," Prowl said, looking as amused as he ever allowed himself to appear.

"That was different," I said. "And I've hardly disobeyed an order since. I even waited to leave medbay until Ratchet said I could."

"Yet you standing here arguing with your superiors does not give me faith in your propensity to follow orders," Ultra Magnus said, sounding like he was ready to give me a strongly worded lecture followed by several strongly worded emails following up three days later.

I gave him an equally irritated look. "I'm cheeky one time and all my following the rules suddenly doesn't matter, eh?" My wings flicked in irritation.

"Easy, fembot," Iornhide said, placing a hand on my shoulder. "Don't actually start a fight with Magnus now."

I huffed a little, turning away from staring up at the taller mech, the bits of armor that kept their feather-like properties from my altmode—kibble Ironhide had called them—bristling. I wasn't trying to start a fight with the mech, but the implication that I was an insubordinate underling that needed chiding rubbed me the wrong way after all the effort I had put into following orders and not outright disobeying directions over the course of my medbay stay.

"You two will learn to communicate in time," Prowl reassured, turning to tap the edge of his datapad on the table. "Now, seeing as how Optimus is occupied with another meeting, I will catch you up to speed, Ultra Magnus, and then you can share with us the tale of how you came into possession of your two shards."

Ultra Magnus gave me a long, hard look, as if debating whether he was going to let what he undoubtedly saw as an attitude go. Then he finally turned his attention to Prowl and motioned with a hand. "Very well," he said.

I sat in my seat as the others all did so and listened to Prowl recap how we had come into possession of our shards. As he did so, I inspected the shards some more, Elita's translations of the inscriptions pulled up on my datapad. Each one had a different inscription:

Chromia: Fierce

Sideswipe: Tenacious

Mine: Resilient

Ultra Magnus: Steadfast

Bluestreak: Persistent

I noted that they all seemed to be traits one could assign to be characteristics. It was like the shards were taking the bots who found them and labeling them with these words. Words that seemed to fit from what I could tell. I couldn't say for certain on Bluestreak, but I was more than certain those who knew the others well would agree with me.

"Have you been listening, Shadebreaker?" Ultra Magnus asked a while later as I was deep into reading Elita's translations of the inscriptions at the entryways.

I shifted a wing, looking up at the mech. "Yes," I said. "I'm listening. You found your shard in an ice cave on Pluto hidden in a set of ruins much similar to the ones we've found thus far here on Earth. And Bluestreak's was on the moon. You have provided the images of the murals painted in each of them and the inscriptions at the entrances that seem to match the ones from ours." I waved at the images scattered above the meeting table that Elita had been sorting through and updating notes fed into each of our datapads while the mechs talked. I stared at him, challenging him to be upset at me for double tasking when I was not the only one doing so.

Ultra Magnus's lips formed a thin line as he stared me down. He opened his mouth, but Elita cut him off.

"Actually," she said, raising a hand with a frown. "There is a difference in the inscription of one of them. The one they found Bluestreak's Shard. The one labeled Persistent."

I looked at the mentioned Shard and poked it, giving it a look of curiosity.

"It has a number," Elita said, pointing at a corner that seemed to be broken off of every other slab of inscription we'd come across. "Ten."

"Is that the total number of Shards?" I wondered. "Or is that Shard number ten out of whatever final number?"

"What makes you think the number means anything?" Chromia asked.

"Why would it be there at all if it meant nothing?" I asked.

"It could be the number of cycles that have transpired," Prowl pointed out logically. "If your previous thoughts of the murals alluding to some kind of cycle are accurate."

"That would require the number being changeable," I said, tone one of discussion, not argument.

"It does not appear as if it was inscribed with change in mind and doesn't look corrected either," Ultra Magnus said, looking closer at the image himself now.

"Could something in one of the murals tell us?" Ironhide asked.

Prowl typed and brought up the four big murals side by side in large windows. We all moved to the sides of the table where we could get better looks, which put Magnus and I right across from each other as I stood to get a better look.

I tried to ignore his imposing figure as I looked between the images.

"It's hard to tell with everything in black," Ironhide gruffed. "Shade'? You have an optic for art details."

"To a degree," I said dryly, leaning closer and squinting. I looked between the images. I reached out and zoomed one image super far into one of the depictions of a Shard. I titled my helm at it. "Unless I am missing it, there's nothing here differentiating one Shard from another."

"Such is the trouble with stylized images sometimes," Prowl said with a frown. He zoomed in on a different one. "Some will over exaggerate differences, while others might do away with them altogether."

"Lotta good that does us," Chromia said. "How are we supposed to prepare for Unicron if they leave our clues so hard to figure out?"

I sighed, frustrated that my previous knowledge of Unicron was turning out to be useless for us. Even the alternative version of events I knew from fanfiction didn't hold any bearing here. No mention of Xel'tors or councils of something, something like in my best friend's story to be seen in the inscriptions. Part of me had hoped for some familiarity to it with the Shards.

"Is there anything in the inscription ringing any bells, Shade'?" Elita asked gently.

I held a hand out, spreading my fingers. "No, not really," I said. "None of the timelines I knew about included this as a cycle. And none have had this…gather things to deal with it approach. And now Ultra Magnus comes bearing Shards from off-planet. How do we even know where to look? Or when we have them all?"

"How do bots deal with Unicron in other realities?" Prowl asked.

"Well," I said carefully. "One had Optimus use the Matrix to put him back in stasis, at the cost of his memories and that ended up temporary and later his spark ended up being trapped in the container for the AllSpark, leading to Optimus containing the AllSpark himself and then sacrificing himself to save Cybertron."

Some of the bots flinched.

"Another universe it was a massive battle that eventually lead to Unicron being killed by Wreck-Gar in the end," I said. "For us, that would look like letting Earth get destroyed, which we don't want. And I doubt anyone here wants to see Optimus ultimately end up dead if we can help it."

"Indeed," Ultra Magnus said. "As well as wishing his memories to stay intact."

I nodded my agreement, grinning a bit up at the mech. "Glad we are in agreement." I looked back at the images.

"What timeframe did you say you reckon we have on this?" Ironhide asked me.

"If it follows the same timeframe as the other reality in which Unicron is Earth's core," I said, pulling up a calendar. "Until the planetary alignment—the time of the prophecy. About here." I pointed to a spot on the calendar.

"About three months left," Chromia said. "Not much time to figure out the rest."

"I mean, there's always the Matrix as backup, but we all agree we'd rather not," I said. "There has to be some way to figure out what's missing."

"Your father might know," Elita offered gently.

"And how do you suggest we contact him?" I asked, crossing my arms. The only ways coming immediately to mind were unpleasant and I was feeling grouchy that not even having my life threatened had brought his attention toward me.

"Have you tried to portal to the pocket dimension he walked you through when he…recovered you from Shockwave?" Elita asked, not bothered by my irritation.

My wings shifted slightly and I ground my denta a bit. "I do not think it's going to be that easy," I said quietly. "But…for the sake of the mission, I will try."

"Thank you," Elita said gently. "I know it will not be easy for you to talk to him either. After what he did."

I gusted air through my systems. "An understatement," I said. "And there's no guarantee that I can get in. It's possible that only he can access that place, you know?"

"I know," Elita said.

I sighed and then looked up at the images again once more, optics analyzing them for clues.

"You said Unicron's spark is contained within the AllSpark container in one reality?" Prowl asked.

"Yeah," I said. Then I recognized where he was going. "Can we…make a container of similar properties?"

"That would be a question for Wheeljack and Perceptor," Prowl said. "But theoretically that would be the end all solution."

"The AllSpark is thought to be the spark of Primus Himself," Elita said in agreement. "It would stand to reason that something that can contain something that powerful should be able to contain Unicron's spark as well."

"But does it contain Primus's spark or does His spark just chill in it?" I asked curiously. "Cause I doubt Unicron would be inclined to cooperate with his imprisonment, even reduced to just his spark."

"That's….not something I ever considered," Elita said. "You continue to surprise me with some unique viewpoints, Shadebreaker. Thank you."

I shifted a wing, feeling sheepish as I rubbed the back of my helm. "That's just my neurodivergency. Nothing fancy."

Ironhide chuckled as the femme commander smiled softly. He reached over and rubbed my helm fondly.

"We will make sure to bring up this possibility with Wheeljack and Perceptor," Prowl said. "I believe Perceptor has studied the AllSpark before. He might have a grasp of how much we may need to reinforce the design to account for a more resistant prisoner."

"Indeed," Ultra Magnus nodded. "In the meantime, we should keep exploring these Shards. We may need them regardless."

I nodded in agreement.

"Are you certain about this, my lord?" Knock Out asked skeptically. "I mean, there's no guarantee this will work."

"I am certain, Knock Out! And I would caution you not to question me after you let her escape," Megatron snarled.

Knock Out flinched and resisted the urge to share a look with Breakdown. "Well, alright," he said. "You're the boss. I'll administer the sedative."

"No! I wish to bear witness to the attachment of my new limb," Megatron said firmly.

"Alright, then I suggest killing your pain receptors," Knock Out said, transforming his hand into his buzzsaw. "Amputation hurts like a bitch."

Megatron growled, but nodded at this direction.

Knock Out began carefully severing Megatron's fusion cannon arm with his buzzsaw and a torch to cauterize the wound as he went. He was half tempted not to be so careful.

Being restricted from ever leaving medbay, even to recharge, was making him grouchy and irritated. Little knicks and a little extra bleeding would be easy to pass off as mistakes and as long as the end result was perfect, Megatron would let them slide.

But the medic in him wouldn't allow it. He may be a Decepticon, but he still had standards. Even if his medical license wasn't entirely legal.

Still, he could imagine unceremoniously chopping the warlord's arm off in an act of catharsis. And he could imagine putting the new arm on incorrectly with a slow flow of internal bleeding that could lead the mech to eventually have to come back to have it re-amputated at which point he could chop it off again.

An hour later the new, dead, arm was attached to the Decepticon leader and Megatron was flexing the digits slowly.

"It will probably be sluggish while your system integrates its circuitry into your neural net," Knock Out said. "Recovery time for these types of procedures are typically weeks, sometimes months. And your systems might reject it. I recommend high monitoring and physical therapy."

Megatron galred darkly at him and raised the newly attached appendage as if to backhand him.

Knock Out squeaked and raised his arms up to protect himself, backing up a step.

Megatron smirked at the reaction. "There will be no need, doctor," he said silkily. "Hold onto my old arm, will you? Don't want to lose it like you did my prey."

"Ye-yes, my lord," Knock Out said, spark feeling like it wanted to fly out of chest and somewhere far away.

He watched the warlord walk out of his medbay as if he hadn't just gone through surgery while awake and needed time to recover. Even with pain receptors turned off, there still was pain involved in such a surgery and inevitably he'd have to turn them back on to avoid permanently damaging them. He doubted the mech would return for pain meds, though, as the war lord always denied them, saying they were for the weak.

"Remind me why we haven't bailed," Knock Out looked at Breakdown dryly.

"I've been questioning that myself," Breakdown said, touching his badge slightly. "Waiting to confirm what she said about the future. If she was being genuine."

"Right," Knock Out said, sighing. "He still lets you leave medbay. How's it looking out there? Any sign of the creepy crawly?"

"I saw her speaking with Soundwave on the bridge," Breakdown said. "Something about the look in her optics…" He shuddered. "Reminds me of Ratbat."

"Ick," Knock Out said, shaking a hand as if to rid it of something gross he'd touched. "That's a lovely image I could've done without. Whatever happened to that ugly bat anyways?"

Breakdown shrugged.

"Just as well," Knock Out said. "He was always getting under my plating with his preening."

Ultra Magnus was silent and thoughtful as he ran his patrol that night. He had requested to take over the patrol from the bot who'd been meant to run it in order to help familiarize himself with the base. He and the ones who'd arrived with him had each been given the grand tour, but he preferred this way of becoming familiar.

It was peaceful, quiet, without distractions. He did not have to worry about the necessities of socializing. He didn't mind, of course, speaking with his fellow bots, but he often found other bots minded talking with him. He did not do small talk well. Rules, regulations, official matters. Those he could handle. Whenever he tried to "loosen up" it was awkward and unpleasant.

Here, at night when the others had all retired to their quarters and it was quiet, he didn't have to worry about any of that. He could focus solely on learning the streets and marking down anything that he saw needed adjustments. It gave him peace when there was so much to disturb his peace.

His audials picked up sound as he came to the part of the road that passed by the bot-only beach. It was far from the quartering area, so whoever it was would not disturb anyone asleep. It was a slightly unfamiliar sound, bird-like in nature, but he recognized a note of frustration in it. And he immediately knew what bot made it.

"Why?" Her voice reached his audials as he moved toward the hill that separated the beach from the road. "Just work!"

Due to his height, he could see her before reaching the top. He watched as she opened a portal, poked her helm through and then pulled back, closing it again with a frustrated motion of her hand.

"Of course it's not so easy," she growled in frustration. She practically stomped in a circle as she talked. "Why would it ever be easy to find frickin' answers? I was supposed to be helpful! How can I be helpful if I don't even know what the heck we're supposed to be doing?" She kicked the sand, sending a dust cloud into the air and crossing her arms.

Ultra Magnus frowned at the sight. It seemed a rather childish action, a tantrum. Unbecoming of an Autobot of enough rank to be included in meetings. Judging by her words, though, she had somehow gotten the idea it was her responsibility to tell them how to proceed and that might explain her frustration.

Still…

Just as he made to move, he watched her wings shift as she gusted air, taking on a more relaxed state.

"Ok, Shade', think," she said to herself. "Relax. You're not gonna get kicked out just cause your information is questionable in its usefulness anymore." She tapped her helm with her fist. "Don't let those stupid fears cloud your judgment and get you all worked up. And we have a backup plan, kinda. So even if this doesn't work, it'll be fine…it's gotta be fine. Otherwise everyone might…don't go there, that's not helpful…"

Ultra Magnus watched as she began pacing in the sand.

"Why isn't it working to open a portal to Vector's mini-pocket-universe-place-thingy? What have I been missing all day?" She wondered out loud. "Is it cause I need the coordinates? I can't just tell my portals 'Vector's Pocket Universe'? Maybe. Could be. Or maybe it's my approach? Or my emotions? The portals first triggered out of emotion…" she stopped pacing, trailing off as she looked at her hand. "Do I have to…not be angry at dear old dad to be able to access his dimension?"

A long silence happened.

Her wings shifted as if she had suddenly become aware of something and she suddenly looked his way. Her wings shifted again, uncertainly and a hiss came from her vocs at a nearly inaudible level. She didn't know what to think about his appearance or him catching her talking to herself, is what he read.

He moved to approach her and she shifted into an attention stance, looking uncertain. Her wings lowered and she looked up at him.

"At ease, I am not here to reprimand you," Ultra Magnus said.

She looked up at him with a doubtful looking frown. Impressive emoting for a bot who kept her optics covered by a visor.

"You do not believe me," he observed.

"You seemed ready to find any reason to chew me out earlier, sir," she replied, tone guarded, but not entirely lacking bite. She resented that a little.

Ultra Magnus pressed his lips into a thin line. "Perhaps if you had not been obstinate, I would have found no reason to find fault." He said. "I do not know how the others have run this base, but I expect respect."

Shadebreaker's lips pressed into a thin line. "So do the others," she said tightly. "But I know them. I don't know you. And you don't know me. Coming at me like I'm a disobedient underling that needs put in her place from the get-go is not appreciated. I know I can be a pain, I acknowledge that. But you would notice the others didn't treat my actions as serious slights against you until you basically accused me of being insubordinate on the regular based off a very minor slight. At which point I listened when Ironhide told me to stand down. And then you proceeded to find fault in me for double tasking when I wasn't the only one doing so. You only didn't say anything because Elita didn't give you a chance."

Ultra Magnus narrowed his optics at her, debating how to respond.

"I mean no disrespect toward you, Magnus," Shadebreaker said, looking up at him. "I would much prefer it if we got along. However, I will not stand being treated unfairly by anyone. Whatever problem you decided to have with me, best you drop it and start learning who I am for who I am. Not whatever you perceive me to be based on whatever you see or based on one little instance of me being cheeky with you. If I wanted to disrespect you, I would've done so in a much bigger way than poking something you suggested not to. And had it been out in the field and there was an indication that it was dangerous then I would've listened. Meetings, while formal, are still relatively low stakes.

"And you and I had just met," she continued, tone softer. "I'm gonna be a bit obstinate until I'm comfortable with you. You're the new guy in authority over me. That puts me on edge and I have to navigate that. If you come at every little flaw of mine, that navigation is gonna be a harder fight for the both of us. I won't give you serious push back if you don't treat me like garbage."

Ultra Magnus flinched a little. He could see how she felt like that. He felt called out. He had called her out for not paying attention only to be shown he'd been wrong and he had almost said something about her double tasking. But she was right. Elita had been double tasking the whole meeting—listening and translating.

"You are right," he finally admitted with a sigh after a long moment. "I apologize I made you feel as though I was treating you unfairly."

"It was more than a feeling," Shadebreaker bit out with a growl. "Don't dismiss it as a feelings issue, Magnus. That puts all the fault on me for being sensitive."

Ultra Magnus ground his denta. "That is not-" he cut himself off and sighed, pinching the bridge of nose.

Shadebreaker waited with a frown as he searched for the proper words. She almost spoke a couple times, but stopped herself with a look of frustration at her own impatience.

"I apologize for the unfairness of my actions toward you," Ultra Magnus finally said after several long minutes. "I looked at you as an insubordinate underling when I should've looked at you as I do any of the other bots in that meeting. While I do outrank you, you would not be in those meetings if the others believed you were an impertinent brat in need of a lesson in manners."

Shadebreaker looked up at him, wings relaxing from their tense state. "And I apologize, too," she said easily, holding a hand out, palm up. "I did start to get an attitude and that's what prompted Ironhide to warn me not to fight with you. I was not wanting to fight with you, but I admit that I would've in a different setting. And that is unhelpful to us getting to know each other. As I said, I am on edge regarding new authority figures. You are not the only one to go through this stage with me."

"Prowl?" Ultra Magnus asked.

"Believe it or not, no," Shadebreaker said, looking amused. "Elita, actually. We were doing some combat training and she called it done cause I had gotten injured and it hurt to move that part of me and I tried to argue with her."

Ultra Magnus winced slightly. "That was unwise," he said.

"Yeah, no," Shadebreaker agreed, wincing as she rubbed her side. "She floored me pretty hard and explained quite thoroughly why I needed to listen when my instructor told me we were done. And, well, I am sensitive, so I cried a bit. Cause I have lecture related trauma that I'm still working through. It wasn't as bad as when Optimus lectured me, though, and it was partially cause I was in pain and pain exacerbates my emotions."

"So it is not just me," Ultra Magnus said.

"No, you're just the newest superior, who I just met," Shadebreaker said. "But we will learn how to work with each other, like Prowl said. I will learn to trust you and you will see I'm not as much of an insubordinate underling as you think I am. And maybe someday I can learn to accept new authority figures into my life with greater ease?"

"We'll see," Ultra Magnus said doubtfully.

"Forgive and forget this time? Mutually?" She asked, holding her hand out again, fingers splayed.

"This time," Ultra Magnus sighed.

"Great," Shadebreaker said. "If that is all, I'm going to return to my attempts to portal into my father's backyard." She pointed behind her and shifted to move.

"Do you not sleep?" Ultra Magnus asked.

She paused. "I do," she said. "But I have been struggling since moving into my quarters. I got used to having other sparks in the immediate vicinity. I…didn't realize it was going to be a problem. But I'll adapt. Might as well make use of my time if I'm awake anyways, though, right?"

Ultra Magnus raised an optic ridge at that, but merely shook his helm. "I must return to my patrol, but I strongly suggest you get some recharge before the night is out."

"No promises," Shadebreaker said, making a hand motion he was unfamiliar with. "But I will try here soon if I make no progress in the next hour."

"Acceptable," Ultra Magnus said.

He left her at the beach with a lot on his mind.

Megatron walked into the lab with an anticipatory grin of his faceplates that made Starscream nervous.

Starscream, like any other mech who knew of Megatron's intentions of attaching a dead mech's arm to himself, was highly doubtful of the warlord's plan. Biology just did not work that way. Anyone with more than an entry level of understanding of the subject would know that. Why Knock Out had gone through with the procedure was beyond Starscream.

"Did you prepare the sample?" Megatron asked as he strode over to him.

Starscream motioned toward the dark energon crystal sitting upon one of the work tables. "As you ordered, my lord," he said, keeping his thoughts to himself. "The Forge awaits your command."

Megatron's lips curled into a pleased grin as he moved toward the table. He looked at his new hand with a greedy gleam in his optics and then reached for the hammer. He took it in his hand and hefted it, a pleased smirk when the lights adorning it glew in rich blue.

He raised it above his helm and Starscream saw the lights go out as his master remained oblivious.

Megatron brought the hammer down hard on the dark energon crystal, shattering it into shards.

"What?" Megatron asked, optics widening. "Why didn't it work?! It activated when I touched it!" He whirled on Starscream. "Explain!" He motioned toward the destroyed dark energon.

"Perhaps," Starscream said carefully, walking over and plucking a shard of dark energon from where it'd gotten wedged into the wall. "The Forge was momentarily fooled by the presence of the blood of the Prime in the arm, but when it sensed the spark past that it was no longer fooled into thinking you to be of the lineage."

Megatron growled darkly.

Starscream held his hands up. "It is only a theory, my lord," he said. "Clearly this is another case of the femme's information being faulty."

"Hmmm," Megatron hummed. "Faulty, Starscream? Or sabotage?"

"You don't mean to suggest our dear Knock Out incorrectly connected your arm, my liege?" Starscream asked, making a dismissing motion with his hands.

"I do," Megatron said with a growl. "The Forge recognized me for a moment. What other explanation is there?"

Starscream could think of several, but he knew better than to argue with Megatron. For once his ire was not directed at him for a failure—he was still aching from the beating he received over not getting anything from Shadebreaker before her escape. He wasn't going to risk himself, or his brothers, to argue for Knock Out. The medic would have to argue for himself.

Starscream shifted his optics uncertainly toward the shattered bits of dark energon scattered around the lab as Megatron left, Forge in hand.

"Lord Megatron," Knock Out said, looking over and acting as casually as ever to hide what he had previously been doing. "Back so soon? Did you have second thoughts about that physical therapy?"

Megatron snarled, whole aura menacing as he stomped his way over to tower over the medic. He lowered the head of the great hammer onto the floor with a loud thud right next to him.

"You know, Knock Out," Megatron said, glaring down at the red mech. "You did such a splendid job changing out my arm."

"Why thank you, my lord," Knock Out said, preening slightly. "I do pride myself in my work."

Megatron's lip curled. "So splendid, in fact, that I failed to remember that you could've slipped something by me right under my noseplate."

Knock Out hesitated. "I'm afraid I don't follow, my lord," he said, stepping back a bit as Megatron loomed closer threateningly.

"I went to test my wonderful new appendage, doctor," Megatron said with a flourishing motion of his new hand. "And do you know what happened?" He shot him a look Knock Out could only describe as challenging.

"I-I don't know, m-my lord," Knock Out said nervously.

"For a brief, wondrous moment, the Forge recognized me!" Megatron said. "But as I brought it down on the material with which I meant to forge the weapon to vanquish my foes…it failed me! It rejected me! And shattered the dark energon into pieces!"

"H-how unfortunate, my lord," Knock Out said. "But I did tell you it may not work."

"You did, Knock Out," Megatron conceded, taking a step forward, causing the medic to step back again, pressing him against the med berth behind him. "But it did work, however briefly. Which leads me to one conclusion."

"W-what's that, my lord?" Knock Out asked, though he had a sinking feeling that he knew.

"I think you know exactly what went wrong, doctor," Megatron snarled, reaching out for him. "And your treachery has earned you a taste of the pain Starscream gets for his."

The next twenty minutes in Knock Out's world was filled with nothing but pained and agonized screams as Breakdown was forced to watch helplessly.

Breakdown was quiet as he worked on repairing his partner after Megatron left medbay. Patching every leak and administering pain meds against his orders. He was not about to let his partner suffer needlessly over a mistake he did not commit. And he knew Knock Out had not done anything to sabotage the attachment of the arm.

"Breakdown…" Knock Out said quietly through the pain the meds could not take care of. "I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault he would not listen to reason, doc," Breakdown said.

"No, I'm sorry I brought our loyalty into question by doing what I did back then," the medic said and then grunted. "If I hadn't let her go…if…" He flinched as Breakdown worked. "Maybe he wouldn't be so quick to distrust me and we wouldn't be like this."

"Yeah, and then maybe I would be dead or living as MECH's experiment," Breakdown reminded. "You did the right thing, doc. And I'm beginning to question if coming back at all was the right call."

"What? You think we should've gone with Psychic after all?" Knock Out asked, mildly amused. "I thought you weren't sure if you even believed her information."

"That was before I read the files," Breakdown said. "I just knew where we were sent, not why or how we knew where to go. And the fact the arm almost worked…it's gotta mean something about her information, right? In some other timeline, what if it did work like that?"

"Alternative timelines would explain where the information-" Knock Out paused to flinch. "-has been inaccurate."

"The Omega Keys," Breakdown nodded in agreement.

"So she really isn't psychic, just from another reality? Huh," Knock Out hummed. "Wonder where the limit of her information lies…"

Breakdown shrugged. "Megatron doesn't believe we have all of it," he said. "He knows Shockwave omitted things, but not how much."

"How did you manage to find out?" Knock Out asked.

"Lunarstrike owed me a few favors," Breakdown replied. "And she's picked up some spy skills in her time as a 'Con while trying to find her trinemates."

"Right, poor femme," Knock Out said. "She and 'Screamer…no wonder they've taken to each other, being in the same boat."

Breakdown hummed in agreement.

"Does this mean you are thinking of taking Psychic up on her offer?"

"We'll have to be careful," Breakdown said. "You need healthy before we move. And we can't go empty handed."

"Agreed," Knock Out said, smiling weakly.

Chapter Text

Chapter 28: Family

"You had something to show us, Wheeljack?" Optimus asked as we gathered in the meeting room once more a couple days after Ultra Magnus and the others had arrived.

Wheeljack's fins lit up in the way they typically did when he was excited. "Percy and I have been looking at the schematics of the AllSpark container," he said, bringing up a holo-representation of them above the table. "And we believe we can not only make a replica, but add the reinforcements necessary to account for a spark that may fight its containment."

My wings perked at this news and I grinned. "That's great!" I said.

"We just need a few more materials," Wheeljack said.

"I don't think the humans will mind relinquishing them if it means their planet will not be destroyed," Optimus said.

"Some might argue," I said, shifting a wing. "But I don't think we'll have too much trouble, no. Especially with Stark on the liaison team in place of Galloway."

"I concur, that man is much more pleasant," Wheeljack said happily.

"Indeed," Prowl said. "How long will it take you to build this container?"

"About a month and a half once we have the supplies," Wheeljack said.

"Let us hope negotiations go smooth and we can get the supplies quickly," Ultra Magnus said.

"How goes your attempts to contact your father, Shadebreaker?" Elita asked.

My wings lowered and I lowered my helm. "No luck so far," I said with a sigh. "I do not seem to be able to get into his pocket universe between realities. I don't know if my skills with my portals are simply not powerful enough or there's some other reason. But I don't think we'll be getting answers from him. I'll keep trying, but I wouldn't hedge our bets on him."

"Thanks for trying, anyways," Elita said gently as Ironhide rubbed my shoulder reassuringly.

"What about the inscriptions?" Ironhide asked Elita. "Have you gleaned any more clues from them?"

"I did take the murals to Sunstreaker," Elita said. "And he was able to identify several silhouettes that seemed to repeat themselves between each mural, each one appearing under a Shard." She brought up the five images of the murals.

"For the sake of identification, we labeled them as bots their silhouettes remind us of," Elita said, explaining the little names written off to the side. "But ultimately we identified a total of twelve bots associated with a Shard spread among them, several repeating in more than one mural, like Optimus and Megatron."

"What's this note you've made here about Shadebreaker?" Jazz asked curiously.

"If these bots are accurately representing the bots who retrieve the Shards, we're missing a representation of Shadebreaker here," Elita said. "Each bot who has found one so far aside from her there is a corresponding silhouette that looks like them."

"But not Shade'?" Jazz asked.

My wings shifted a bit and my optics went to the seeker silhouette I had identified before as my theoretical self.

"It gives us a bit of an idea of who else might have Shards," Ironhide said thoughtfully.

"Ironhide, Drift, Megatron," Chromia read, pausing to make a face at the warlord's name. "Bumblebee, Optimus, Sunstreaker and two unknowns."

"And that's assuming these are the only twelve, plus Shadebreaker," Ultra Magnus said.

"Maybe I'm already here," I suggested hesitantly.

"What do you mean, fembot?" Chromia asked.

"Well, theoretically…if these…murals are depicting bots who are…meant to find the Shards and not depicting past bots," I said carefully. "Then it stands to reason that I would be on them, wouldn't it? That my previous thoughts that I wasn't meant to be here are being proven wrong here, somehow." My wings shifted uncertainly as I made a face, uncertain about how to feel about this. I reached a hand out hesitantly.

"This seeker…one of the unknowns…it reminds me of some what if theories old friends of mine and I had of if we…well basically if we ended up in a similar situation to the one I did, minus the Shockwave treatment." I paused a moment. "It makes me wonder, is all, if…maybe I was meant to be here the whole time…and maybe if Shockwave had not been involved if I would be a Seeker. And Ratchet has said I have Seeker CNA in me. Of course, that's all theory just trying to make sense of my situation as much as anything else, so take it with a grain of rust. Just wild coincidence how the silhouette matches those what if thought exercises."

"That silhouette is on the one from your and Sideswipe's Shards," Chromia said. "You've been holding onto this theory for a while, fembot."

"It's wild speculation with no solid proof," I shrugged. "And I am not sure what to think or feel about it…not entirely sure I like what other theories it brings up."

"Stark has mentioned to me he thinks you've always had a Cybertronian soul," Wheeljack said quietly.

I waved a hand toward him "Case," I said. "Cause if that is true, there's a story behind how a Cybertronian soul sat in a human body and the answer to that is unlikely to be a happy one. And could likely add to the reasons-I'm-pissed-at-my-father. But it would explain him telling Shockwave his experiments wouldn't work on any other humans. But may also further the I-was-meant-to-be-here-and-that-seeker-is-possibly-me theory."

"There's still a possibility that we are missing bots, even if you are that Seeker," Prowl said. "Not every bot is on every mural, after all."

"It at least gives us a place to start," Optimus said. He started to say something more, but paused and held up a hand as he took a comm. His optics darted to me for a moment, as did Prowl's and I tilted my helm.

"Shadebreaker," Optimus addressed me after a minute. "Are you able to open your portals at a great distance from yourself?"

I raised an optic ridge at that question. "No, not last I checked." I said, shifting my wings uncertainly. "Whyyy?"

"A portal nearly matching the signature that yours give off has been detected in the jungles of Brazil," Prowl supplied.

My wings shifted. "The only other bot we know of with portals like mine is my father," I said.

"This may be our chance to get some answers from him," Optimus said.

"Who the Pit are you?" Megatron demanded of the red and orange mech that had suddenly appeared on the flight deck of the Nemesis out of a portal identical to those of the femme he hunted.

"Who I am is of no consequence," the mech replied. "I come bearing a message and instructions."

Megatron's lips curled into a snarl. "You think you can command me?"

"I do not seek to command you, however, I know you are seeking ways to deal with Unicron," the mech said. "I bear information on how to do so."

"Really now?" Megatron asked, cocking his helm and raising an optic ridge. "And why should I believe you?"

"You are, of course, under no obligation to do so," the mech said smoothly, waving a hand in front of him, expression unchanging from the unreadable look upon his face. "I suppose if you want the World Eater to destroy the universe, leaving you nothing to rule over, you can disregard my ever being here."

"Hmm," Megatron hummed, noting the similarities between the mech's words and Shadebreaker's warnings about dark energon. "You have my attention, mech. Speak."

"Listen carefully," the mech said. "There is an ancient Cybertronian structure on Io, a moon of the planet Jupiter of this solar system. Inside you will find one of what have most recently been called Shards. You will need that. You are the only one who can retrieve and wield this particular Shard. After retrieving it, you will await my word, at which time you will come with me to work with the Autobots to subdue the World Eater."

"Interesting," Megatron said. "And what if I don't want to play nicely with the Autobots for nothing in return?"

"Your survival and prospect of domination should be enough for you," the mech said, continuing to remain unreadable. "However, I will see what I can negotiate."

"I want my prize back," Megatron said silkily.

The mech narrowed his optics at the warlord.

"Shadebreaker," Megatron said. "Back in my clutches."

The mech was silent, looking contemplative. "I will see to it."

"Double cross me and there will be consequences," Megatron warned.

The mech merely bowed his helm and then stepped through a portal once more.

"Such intriguing creatures stepping out from beyond the borders of reality," Megatron said contemplatively.

I stepped out of the portal right behind Ultra Magnus and next to Jazz, optics scanning the jungle around us.

"Stay alert," Ultra Magnus said. "We have no way of knowing what to expect."

"Indeed," Ironhide said gruffly, optics flicking around as he readied his weapon.

My wings shifted slightly, searching out the energies.

"So, you have any plans for what you may ask him?" Jazz asked quietly as we began moving toward the source of the signal.

I shot him a dry look.

"Cut the chatter," Ultra Magnus ordered. "Shadebreaker, scout from the skies."

"Yes sir," I said easily.

I transformed and took to the skies without any preamble. Anything to avoid the topic of what I might ask my father barring mission related topics. I wasn't sure if I was truly ready for those answers. I wasn't sure if I ever would be, though. I knew I wanted them. Did I need them? I wasn't sure.

My optics roamed through the trees, seeking life signs or any sign the mech may have left. Vector Prime was a massive mech, so it was hard to believe it would be hard to spot him even in this dense jungle. And yet it was several minutes before I spotted something.

And it wasn't Vector at all.

.:I see a mech:. I reported. .:At the coordinates of the portal. Flier build, red and orange armor…no insignia or faction energy signature that I can read. Appears to be waiting, whether for us or someone else it is unclear. There are no signs of anyone else. It is not Vector.:.

.:Understood:. Ultra Magnus replied. .:Maintain air surveillance for now.:.

.:Yes sir.:.

I flew through a cloud, unknowingly just missing being seen as the others called out to the mech from the trees, keeping the comm channel open so I could hear their conversation.

"Hello! This is Jazz, Autobot!" Jazz called out in greeting first. "We mean you no harm, but we are armed. Identify yourself!"

The mech below me shifted as I circled, making a perimeter where I would occupy the air space while surveilling.

"My name is Solarcharge," he replied. "I am a neutral in your war. I mean you no harm."

The bots walked into view now, joining the mech in the small clearing.

"What is your purpose here?" Ultra Magnus asked.

"I have been sent here to help you deal with the World Eater," Solarcharge replied simply as if it was just another day in the park.

"What do you know of Unicron?" Jazz asked.

Solarcharge shifted his hand and produced something that I couldn't quite make out from my skyview. "I know how many of these you need. And how they work."

There was silence for a moment.

.:Shadebreaker, you may come down. We will return to base now.: Ultra Magnus said. Out loud he said. "You will understand if we take precautions while you are on base with us. We must take caution with any non-Autobot entity when they first come to base."

"I understand," Solarcharge said. "Take whatever security measures you deem necessary."

"Nothing serious," Ironhide said, stepping forward. "You will be restricted about where you will be allowed on base. As well as having an escort with you wherever you go."

"I see," Solarcharge said and I saw his optics track me as I came close to the ground, swooping a little before transforming and landing next to Ultra Magnus.

I ignored his optics as they bore into me and looked up at the mech questioningly.

.:We will return by Ground Bridge:. Ultra Magnus answered my silent question. .:We do not know if we can trust this mech with your identity.:.

.:His face looks like his:. I observed over comm. .:Related, too, perhaps. But I agree.:.

I looked back at the new mech now. Now that I was on ground level I could get a better look at him. His optics were the main stand out in his face from Vector's, being blue but speckled with orange. His wings had a downward tilt and it was hard to tell if that was just the way they sat or he was depressed.

The Ground Bridge opened then, saving me from whatever it was he was about to say and Ultra Magnus ushered me through first before following. My wings sensors informed me the new mech was ushered in next and Ironhide and Jazz took up the rear.

It wasn't much longer that we were once more congregated in the meeting room. This time I made a point of sitting between Ironhide and Chromia, feeling uncertain about the new mech in our midst.

"You have information for us," Prowl said, addressing Solarcharge.

Solarcharge was staring at me, but turned his attention to Prowl when he spoke. "Yes," he said and then pulled something out of subspace.

A familiar something.

A Shard.

"I believe you have already acquired five of these," Solarcharge said.

"Maybe we've acquired sixteen," I said, narrowing my optics as I stared at him.

"Impossible, there are only thirteen and, aside from myself, two others of the mechs required to fetch them don't reside among you," Solarcharge said simply. "I know how many you have, because I know their locations and the status of each of them. Only six have been found so far, and I have just sent a seventh mech on to find his."

My wings shifted slightly. I made a conceding motion with my hand. "Very well, you are not spying on us," I said, tone more amiable.

Solarcharge looked at me again, but then turned his attention away once more. "These…what are you calling them?"

"Shards," Prowl provided.

"These Shards were developed many millennia ago as a way to keep Unicron dormant within the Earth's core," Solarcharge explained. "You see, this is not the first time his existence as such has threatened this planet. Ancient Cybertronians once visited this planet and realized the truth of what happened to the World Eater.

"They saw a need for a solution, a way to suppress the dark god's strength, lest this planet and its inhabitants be destroyed," Solarcharge explained. "They could not rely on a Prime bearing the Matrix being on hand at any given moment the World Eater may awaken. Nor could they trust the Thirteen to always be available to call. So, together with Solus Prime, they forged these Shards."

Solarcharge motioned with his hand and the Shard floated from it to hover over the table, spinning.

"How are you doing that?" Ultra Magnus asked.

"The Shards obey their wielder, if you know how to command them," Solarcharge explained. "And know how, you must. This I will teach each of you. Along with what else you will need to know to suppress Unicron for the next cycle."

I raised my hand. "Say…we trapped his spark in a container…would that…break the cycle?"

Solarcharge blinked. "It-" he looked thoughtful for a moment. "Yes, I believe it would. We would have to check back, of course, when the next awakening would occur, but theoretically it would. To do so, however, you would still have to suppress the power of his spark in order to force it into such a container."

"So we still need these Shards even with Plan B," Chromia said.

"Can't we just…shove him in before he wakes up?" I asked. "Wheeljack's timeframe gives us time, provided we get the materials in time."

Solarcharge shook his helm. "While he is not awake, even now his spark is too tumultuous to contain without the power of the Shards," he said.

"Hm," I hummed, feeling annoyed.

"Who have found their Shards?" Solarcharge asked.

"Shadebreaker, Chromia, Bluestreak, Sideswipe and myself have all acquired Shards," Ultra Magnus listed off.

Solarcharge nodded. "That confirms what I thought," he said. "According to my information, the remaining Shards belong to Optimus, Bumblebee, Drift, Ironhide and Sunstreaker."

"That matches the bots we suspected," Elita mused.

"Hold up," Jazz said. "You said there's thirteen Shards. That only adds up to eleven."

"Counting the mech I just sent to his Shard, that's twelve," Solarcharge corrected. "As well as one more mech you are as yet unaware of who is in the process of retrieving his as well. You will meet him in due time."

I tilted my helm at that, wondering who this mystery mech could be. I suspected I knew who the mech he'd just sent to his Shard was, based on the murals and their apparent accuracy, but having no clue on the mystery mech.

"Now, we have just under three months to get all the Shards and teach you how to command them," Solarcharge said. "Those two tasks should take precedence over everything else."

"No offense, mech," Jazz said. "But you don't decide that. Optimus is Prime here."

Solarcharge's jaw clenched and I was pretty sure he was grinding his denta. "Very well," he said. "But I strongly suggest other things be put on hold for the bots with Shards."

"You are asking for the attention of a large amount of my bots, Solarcharge. And some of us are officers," Optimus pointed out. "While I agree this is a very urgent matter at hand and it should take priority. We also cannot neglect our other duties. We must maintain our watch for Decepticon activities and keep up our supply of energon and relations with the humans. There will be plenty of time, however, devoted to the efforts to defeat Unicron. You will turn over the Shard locations to Prowl and he will work with you to devise a retrieval and training schedule for our Shard wielding bots that suits the needs of the situation."

"Understood sir," Solarcharge said, bowing his helm.

"The rest of you are dismissed," Optimus said. "I suggest you take some time to get some rest."

I slipped out of the room with the others, trying to ignore the way Solarcharge tracked my movements with his optics. Once out, I beelined for where I could sense Ratchet's presence, needing the reassurance of my intended.

I found him in the main room, passing Drift a clipboard I recognized as discharge papers. My wings perked up.

"Finally being released from prison, eh?" I asked, joking.

Ratchet rolled his optics at me.

"Yes," Drift said and I grinned.

"Nice," I said. "New armor, new life, now healthy. Bet nothing feels better, eh?" I nudged him as I approached and he passed the clipboard back to Ratchet.

"It does feel relieving to finally be healthy again," Drift said. "Though I am uncertain whether I am prepared for life outside medbay on an Autobot base. I have gone around with you, Chromia and Ironhide, of course, but I know there are bots who do not appreciate my presence."

"Most bots will behave themselves," Ratchet said reassuringly. "And we're setting you up to share quarters with Bumblebee to ease the transition. He volunteered, so don't worry about intruding, and it's only temporary unless you two decide you want to stay bunk mates long term."

"Far as I know, you'll want to avoid running into the twins by yourself," I said. "At least for a while. I don't think anyone else will cause trouble. But I haven't met any of the bots who came with Ultra Magnus yet."

"And you can comm anyone you trust at any time you feel unsafe," Ratchet supplied. "I don't leave base that often, so odds are I can come help if no one else can."

"Optimus or Prowl would shut down just about anyone," I added. "Or Ironhide. Not many would mess with Ironhide."

Ratchet chuckled at that sentiment. "Speaking from experience?"

"Yup," I said, grinning. "Elita as well. Any officer, really."

"I will remember that," Drift said.

"Do not put up with mistreatment," I said.

"From the femme who let Sunstreaker beat her up," Ratchet said teasingly.

"A calculated decision," I said. "And not an action I would suggest one to emulate. I do not think it would serve Drift as it did me."

Ratchet shook his helm at that. "I don't know if it served you as you think it did," he pointed out.

I shrugged. The twin and I were friends now. Mostly.

"Were you looking for something before you got distracted?" Ratchet asked, looking at me.

"You," I said simply, holding my arms out toward him.

He looked me over and prodded me gently over our bond. I let him feel some of my stress and he sighed. He scooted back from his desk and motioned me over, holding his arms out in invitation. I moved around the desk and accepted his hug and being pulled into his lap.

"What's going on, femme?" Ratchet asked gently.

"Did you see the big jet mech who came in with us?" I asked quietly. I glanced back to make sure he hadn't appeared.

"I saw him on the security cams," Ratchet confirmed, tone dry.

I shifted a wing at his dry tone as he stroked my helm a bit. "We found him following portal signatures similar to mine," I said very quietly. "And his facial features…they look very similar to Vector's."

"You think he could be a brother?" Ratchet asked.

I nodded.

"Why does this stress you?" Ratchet asked softly.

"Something about him, I don't know," I said, sighing. "It's a weird vibe, but I can't tell if it's my broken ability to trust or my intuition is giving me proper signals again. Plus, well, my Cybertronian bio-fam doesn't exactly have a good track record so far."

"Hm," Ratchet hummed in agreement. He tightened his hold on me and then kissed my helm. "Whatever it is, rest assured we will handle it."

"Mhm," I agreed. I shifted and gave him a quick kiss.

"Hm," Ratchet hummed. "You best get before I get too distracted from my work."

"Would that be so bad?" I asked, daring to tease just a little.

"Femme," Ratchet growled. "I'm pretty sure you don't want to push your luck here with Drift watching." There was just enough suggestiveness in his tone to kick my cooling fans on.

"Fair play," I said, moving off his lap. I knew he'd not push things past where either if us were ready, but teasing each other about it was still fun sometimes.

For his part, if Drift was bothered by the almost audacious show of affection, he didn't show it. He merely raised an optic ridge at me as I grinned cheekily at him.

Just then the doors opened and Ironhide walked in with Solarcharge behind him.

"Up to no good, are you bots?" Ironhide teased, clearly reading the cheekiness in my body language.

"Hardly," I said easily, wings shifting as I sobered.

Drift raised an optic ridge, but said nothing as he eyed the new mech.

"Drift, Ratchet, this is Solarcharge," Ironhide introduced. "He will be staying with us for a while to help us sort out how to handle Unicron."

"Ah," Ratchet said. "Pleasant day, Solarcharge. As with all guests, I will ask that you submit to some medical scans and brief questions about medical history so I can properly provide your medical care while you are here."

"Are you the only medic here?" Solarcharge asked.

"As of yet," Ratchet gruffed. "But our base still contains few enough bots; it's not too much of a concern yet."

Solarcharge frowned a bit. "I see," he said. "Anyways, I was hoping to get a word with Shadebreaker while Prowl and Optimus were discussing housing arrangements for me."

My wings shifted slightly. "What about?"

"It's a…personal matter," Solarcharge said. "Could we talk alone?"

I narrowed my optics, not that he could see it behind my visor. "I don't make it a habit of talking with strange mechs alone," I said. "Whatever it is you can say in front of these mechs, I trust all of them implicitly and they will ultimately hear it anyways."

Solarcharge bowed his helm in understanding. His optics narrowed on Drift for a moment, however, as if he didn't trust him, but he didn't say anything. "It is a matter of parentage," he said. "I have been searching for someone for a long time, you see. And I have strong reason to believe that you may be her. Tell me, are you aware of who your father is?"

I raised an optic ridge at that. "The matter of my lineage is one of questionable knowledge," I answered vaguely, recalling Ultra Magnus's words of caution and my own feelings of misgivings.

"I see," Solarcharge said. "Perhaps a CNA test might clear things up for us, then? If you are amendable. I have been searching for my sister for a long time and my information told me she'd be involved in this reality's fight against Unicron, you see?"

"Perhaps your information could be wrong," I said, shifting a wing at that. "Cause unless your sister spent a great deal of time as a human, I couldn't possibly be her."

Solarcharge's optics brightened. "Actually, my information indicated such to be the case," he said.

Silence struck the room.

"I'm sorry, what?" I asked at the same time Ratchet said "WHAT?!"

"Perhaps we should do that CNA test," Solarcharge suggested.

"No need," I sighed. "Who is your father?"

"Vector Prime," Solarcharge replied. Not even the slightest of hesitation.

"You have portals?" I asked.

"Should I open one to prove it?" Solarcharge asked.

I considered for a moment. "Yeah, sure, for my peace of mind," I said. "Unless the CNA test is your preferred proof. The portals are simpler."

Solarcharge reached out a hand and opened a portal identical to my own in the space off to the side.

I shared a look with Ironhide. Then I sighed as he closed the portal.

"Convinced?" Solarcharge asked.

"Enough," I said. "You have his face and the same portals as I do and I share his CNA. So stands to reason we are siblings. I already had suspected that when I saw you myself. But I will tell you, what I said initially was not a lie. We are uncertain if my relation is genuine or if it is because of what happened that caused me to become Cybertronian."

"I can assure you it is genuine," Solarcharge said. "While I do not know the circumstances that led to you getting your Cybertronian body back, I can assure you that you were originally Cybertronian. Your existence as human was not your first existence, though it may be the first you remember. You were very young when our father hid you away as a human."

I blinked. "He…hid me away as a human? How is that possible when my human mother has pictures of me from the day I was born?"

"I don't know the details," Solarcharge said, shaking his helm. "Our father is not very forthcoming on the subject with me. He is not very forthcoming about much."

I scoffed at that. "Sounds about right," I said dryly. "Mech didn't even tell me I'm his daughter the one time we talked. Just gave me stuff about knowing in due time. I have multiple beefs with dear old dad."

"That, we have in common," Solarcharge said, frowning. "I do not know how it is possible that he hid a Cybertronian soul within a human body, but that is what he accomplished." He looked me up and down. "You look a lot different than I was expecting. Mother told me you were a Seeker."

"Ah," I said, sharing another look with Ironhide. He'd just confirmed my theory about the mural and explained my Seeker CNA in one go. I was supposed to be a Seeker. "I suspect that would have to do with the way in which I became Cybertronian again. But I am not inclined to share my trauma with a mech I just met, brother or not."

Solarcharge was silent for a moment. "I suppose that's fair," he said. "Well, we'll get to know each other as I teach you how to command your Shard."

"Indeed," I said.

"Speaking of," Solarcharge said, looking at Drift. "You have one we need to retrieve."

"Ep, ep," Ratchet said. "First, your scans. And Drift is off duty until at least tomorrow. Even then he's in training."

Solarcharge frowned. "Very well," he said.

"We will talk more later, I'm sure," I said and nudged Drift to follow me.

"We will," Solarcharge bowed his helm.

I left with Drift and didn't entirely relax until we were a couple blocks down the street.

"So," I said after a while. "I heard Mirage and Tracks claimed one of the buildings to turn it into a pub. You wanna check out what they've done with it so far? They were doing a soft open today."

Drift shook his helm. "I do not think I am ready for such a crowded place," he said.

"That's ok," I said. "We can swing by the lounge to grab a cube and then go to the beach or something if you want then."

Drift nodded. "That is acceptable," he said.

We made our way to the building that contained the lounge and I peeked inside to find the main area with the couches empty. Presumably most bots were checking out what Mirage had done with the pub idea. I waved Drift to come inside with me and he did so and we moved toward the kitchen area.

"Oh," I said, pausing at the sight of a Praxian I hadn't met yet alongside a green mech, and an unfamiliar femme. "There are bots here."

Drift peeked past my shoulder as the green mech chuckled.

"Indeed," he said, grinning. "We already relatively know what Mirage's pub is all about so we thought we'd let the bots on base get first dibs."

"Fair, fair," I said as I moved in.

"What about you?" The femme asked.

"We didn't feel like the crowd," I said nonchalantly, waving a hand slightly. "Anyways, I don't believe I've met any of you yet. I'm Shadebreaker, pleasure to meet you bots." I gave them a bit of a bow.

"Springer," the green mech introduced himself.

"Firestar," the femme said, a soft look on her faceplates.

"I'm Bluestreak," the Praxian said eagerly, looking at me with wide optics. He moved forward a bit. "Are you a beast former? I've never met a beast former before!"

"Blue'.." Firestar said uncertainly.

I chuckled a bit. "I can't imagine you have," I said, rubbing my helm sheepishly. "Since beast formers aren't common."

"Especially not on the Autobot side," Springer said. "But we're glad to have you. I've read the reports enough to know you're trustworthy."

I smiled and bowed my helm. "I appreciate that," I said, tone genuine.

"Though I don't know anything about you, neutral," Springer said, turning his attention to Drift.

"I'm Drift," Drift replied.

"You look kinda familiar," Bluestreak said, squinting at him.

Drift shifted slightly. "We may have run into each other on the battlefield," he said. "I only recently became neutral."

"I mean, it's been several months now," I said, frowning. "Plus, you're intending to be a 'Bot, you just have to finish reading the rules."

"That is very recent by Cybertronian standards," Drift reminded me. "Your status as an Autobot would still be considered a recent development."

"Fair," I said. "But past is still past."

"Fair." Drift said.

"So you were a 'Con," Springer said and I sensed something less than friendly enter his demeanor.

"And he is not now," I said firmly, spreading a wing to block him from Springers's view. "It does not matter what his identity was before. It matters his identity now."

Springer held his hands up in surrender. "Easy, femme," he said. "I'm not about to attack your friend. I don't trust him, but I won't attack him, I promise."

I eyed him for a moment and then lowered my wing, pulling it back in. "Very well," I said. "My apologies, I'm a little on edge right now."

"I can see that," Springer said. "You wanna talk about it?"

I frowned, wings twitching. "Not at this moment, but maybe after we settle."

"Hey, you drink high grade?" Firestar asked, moving toward the cabinets. "We brought some along with us on the ship."

"I have not had any before," I said, shifting a wing and raising an optic ridge. "I'm…not entirely sure I want to know how it affects my frame at this time."

"It may help you relax," Springer said.

"Do any of you know how high grade affects the typical beast former?" I asked.

Everyone looked around at each other.

I shook my helm. "I will try high grade at some point, but not now," I said. "Just regular old energon for me. With some copper flakes, maybe. I can get it."

"Nonsense, I'm already making our cubes, might as well make yours," Firestar said easily. "What about you, Drift? Anything special?"

"I'll take a regular with some copper and silver," Drift said.

"Ooh, really mixing it up," Firestar teased.

"Hey, they don't have to drink, I'm not drinking either," Bluestreak defended with a troubled frown.

"I know sweetspark," Firestar said, reaching out and rubbing the Praxian's helm. "I'm only teasing to ease the tension. I'm not intending to make them feel shame about it." She looked at us. "You don't feel ashamed, do you?"

"I do not," Drift said.

"I might have felt annoyed some time ago, but I am not that sensitive to feel shame about not drinking," I replied, waving a hand. "I was never super susceptible to peer pressure."

"There you go," Firestar said, smiling at Bluestreak, who looked relieved.

Firestar mixed some drinks up for everyone and then we migrated to the main room and took up spots on the sofas.

"Now, fembot," Firestar said, looking at me with gentle optics. "What's got you so wound up that you get defensive at the mere whiff of displeasure toward your friend?"

"Yeah, I get being protective, but that was a bit much," Springer said from his spot across from me. He took a sip of his cube of energon.

I sighed. "Some mech we believe to be my brother is on base," I said. "And you'd think that'd be something to be happy about. Oh hey, long lost brother I never knew I had, how are ya, let's catch up!" I rubbed my arm slightly, narrowing my optics behind my visor.

"Except that's not how you feel," Springer said.

"Something about him," I said. "He's here to help with a serious problem and he's not done anything to warrant my feelings of mistrust, yet…I don't trust him. And I cannot tell if it is just my ability to trust being broken or my intuition has finally started giving me proper signals again." I took a large sip of my energon.

"I don't think your ability to trust is all that broken," Drift said, tilting his helm with a frown. "You trusted me relatively quickly."

"How long did it take me to tell you my story?" I asked.

"Not that long," Drift replied evenly. "And you treated me with trust and kindness from the start even before that."

"Fair," I conceded. "But you had the advantage of certain facts that he does not. Just like these bots. And these guys have the Autobot insignia going for them and he doesn't have that either. I would need another non-Autobot entity of which I have no prior knowledge of to meet to compare to know for sure. Or even an Autobot I don't know anything of who gave me bad vibes. But I do know if it is my intuition then I can't dismiss it. Last time I did that, people got hurt. Brother or not, I can't just let people get hurt."

"I can understand that," Springer said, looking at me sympathetically.

"What is he here to help with?" Firestar asked.

"I don't know if you are cleared to know," I said, shifting a wing. "Though I'm not sure why we would hide something like this, either." I scratched my cheek.

"I'm pretty sure I rank higher than you, owllie," Springer chuckled.

I grinned sheepishly. "That would make sense for you to be such," I said.

"I don't, according to the roster," Bluestreak said, looking up from consulting a datapad. "You may be somewhat recent, but you have rank. Both those two outrank you by a bit."

"Still, to be safe, just tell us how long you think this mech will be around," Firestar said. "So we know how long to watch out for any trouble from him."

"Our time limit is roughly three months," I said.

"Time limit?" Springer asked. "That sounds serious. I'm going to have to ask Ultra Magnus to be filled in."

"I'm sure everyone will be eventually," I said dryly. "I just don't want to overstep my bounds. I've already butted helms with Magnus a couple times."

Springer chuckled. "Most bots butt helms with him at some point, don't worry," he said reassuringly.

I sighed, smiling sheepishly. "If it is my intuition, I would love to know why it was silent when we had a whole aft Shifter on base," I said dryly.

"Well," Firestar said. "From the sounds of it, your intuition has been silent for a long time. Maybe whatever system is responsible for it is just recently kicking back in after whatever trauma you've been through that knocked it out. Trauma, especially trauma in regards to trust, can knock out such systems for a very long time."

I sighed heavily. "That would make a lot of sense," I said. "I've had my trust broken a lot. And it definitely confused that intuition more than once."

Firestar nodded, giving me a sympathetic look. "But if it's giving you signals again, and they're correct, that means you've been healing and that's good."

"Here here," I agreed, raising my cube as a toast.

To my surprise, the others echoed my words and raised their cubes as well and we all drank.

We sat on those couches, talking for some time, even after completing our energons. It was nice despite the fact I could tell Springer was a little guarded because of Drift's presence. He didn't make it a big deal and wasn't rude or mean. He even laughed at a joke Drift made, which earned him some points.

I kinda felt bad for writing him to be an afthole in an old fanfiction once. Not that I would ever admit to it to the mech. Or any of the Autobots about what details I may or may not have written about them in the past. Even Ratchet would never hear such details. Just too embarrassing.

Chapter Text

Chapter 29: Preparing for the End

I sighed heavily as I took in the clean morning air of the beach. Fresh air, peace and quiet. Time alone in the quiet to process the recent events.

Finding out I had a Cybertronian brother was…interesting. I was a little sad he was triggering my intuition flags. It would be nice to be able to talk to him without feeling suspicious. To ask him questions and not have to wonder if he was trying to lead me into something.

To not wonder if it was a coincidence and I was a red herring as far as he was concerned because of Shockwave. Because, let's face it, there was always going to be that question. Until such a time that we got a hold of Shockwave's records. Whether my relation was artificial.

And, if it was, that would mean there is some other Seeker out there somewhere who was the actual sister he was looking for. And if she was out there, I wondered if I'd ever meet her and what she was like.

I gusted some air through my systems as I watched the waves of the ocean move onto the sand in the early morning light. Then my wings shifted as I picked up an energy.

I shifted smoothly to the side to avoid a sudden touch by Solarcharge, surprised I had not noticed him until he was practically on top of me. I gave him a look of suspicion and bit back a frown. I faced him fully, keeping enough distance between us that I could tell if he tried anything in enough time to react.

"Don't sneak up on me like that," I admonished, thinking back to the previous night. He'd shown up at the lounge when I was just finishing up my energon with the bots I'd met.

Apparently he'd convinced Ironhide to give him a tour of the base and the lounge had been closest for dinner at the point he brought it up. I didn't entirely buy that it wasn't on purpose. It was a little convenient if you asked me. But it could easily have been coincidence just as much as on purpose. How could he have known I was there? Unless he'd hacked the security cameras? We had no bond for him to track me with, after all.

"My apologies," Solarcharge said. "It was not my intention to sneak."

Then why were you hiding from my sensors? I asked in my mind, helm feathers shifting. And why did it feel like you were preparing portal energy?

"Just don't do it again," I said tightly.

Solarcharge dipped his helm slightly to me in understanding, though his expression was rather unreadable. "I merely wished to speak to you," he said. "Get to know my sister after all this time."

I narrowed my optics behind my visor. My internal alarms were blaring at me that he was lying to my face. Covering something up. I knew portal energy when I felt it by now. I had used my portals and gone through enough Ground Bridges to be intimately familiar with the feel of them.

"Huh-uh," I said instead of calling him out as my spark felt no small amount of fear. We were alone out here, after all. I had no idea what his true intention had been. Wasn't he supposed to have someone with him at all times? "Did you come out alone?"

"I'm not alone," Solarcharge pointed out. "You are with me."

"You know what I mean," I said, frowning as I commed Prowl, knowing he would be awake.

Solarcharge sighed. "Is it so surprising that I would want some one on one time with my sister?"

"I suppose not," I conceded as Prowl responded and assured me that he was sending Inferno out to join us. I sent back a grateful reply before signing off. "But you are here with specific guidelines not to go anywhere alone and you broke those to come here by yourself. I would suggest not doing so again."

Solarcharge's expression didn't change, but one of his wings did make a small motion that one could interpret as irritated. "Are you not enough of a guard?"

I shifted one of my own wings. "That's not what I said," I said, getting irritated. "It's a long way from the guest quarters to here. And I would've noticed if you had portalled over here. Which you shouldn't be portaling around base by yourself either."

Solarcharge seemed to consider me for a long moment.

"How did you even know where to find me?" I asked, helm feathers shifting backwards.

"Some bots mentioned you like the beach," Solarcharge said vaguely.

"Hmm," I hummed, trying not to let him see just how much I didn't believe him.

Inferno showed up then, saving either of us from any other line of questioning. I was relieved to see the taller mech—the mech was a bit taller than Ironhide. I hadn't met him yet, but I knew he was Firestar's sparkmate so I knew he was at least friendly and reliable.

"I have training to get to," I said as soon as I was confident Inferno would handle Solarcharge from here. "I'll see you mechs later."

"Indeed," Solarcharge said.

"May the AllSpark light your day," Inferno said, holding his hand out to me.

I smiled at the benediction and pressed my hand against his. I hadn't done this hand thing with many bots yet, so used to shaking hands that I offered it before it was even offered to me, but I found I quite liked it.

"And yours, Inferno," I told the mech softly.

Then I transformed and flew off in the direction of the training field.

I blocked Sunstreaker's strike smoothly and immediately moved into an offensive strike that forced him to take a step back as he defended against it.

"There you go," Sunstreaker said, smirking. "Keep that momentum up and you could get your opponent backed into a corner."

I grinned, gusting air heavily through my systems as they struggled to keep up.

"We'll call it there for now, though," he said, sliding his practice sword away and then sliding it into his subspace.

I wanted to argue—we hadn't been at it as long as normal even if we had gone a little harder than normal. The lesson had been learned that time I'd argued with Elita, however, and I could feel that my frame was just done with the training. So I subspaced my own training sword.

"You did well today," Sunstreaker said. "I can tell you are practicing on your own as well." He motioned me to follow him and we started walking the border of the training ground to cool our frames.

"Yeah, well, with the end of the world on the horizon, gotta make sure I'm better prepared," I said, wings twitching.

Sunstreaker frowned at me. "How are things going with that new mech? Sideswipe tells me he's your brother?"

My wings shifted, wondering how Sideswipe had even found out so fast. "Seems like it," I said. I crossed my arms. "He's…something. I can't tell what, but something. He keeps just showing up wherever I am. It's starting to unnerve me. Especially this morning. He snuck up on me and it felt like he was building up to open a portal and that was the only reason I realized he was there. I usually can tell when someone is behind me."

"That is concerning," Sunstreaker frowned, glancing at my wings. "Those wings of yours are almost more sensitive to energies than a Praxian's. To sneak up on you takes a tremendous amount of skill."

"And brings up the question of why, especially paired with the intent of opening a portal," I said. "He came to the beach alone, too, which he's not supposed to be doing. I had to comm Prowl and he sent Inferno over so I could leave. I had time before our session, but I still used it as an out." I sighed heavily.

"I don't blame you," Sunstreaker said, narrowing his optics. "Did he say anything about what he wanted?"

"Said he just wanted to talk to his sister one on one, but I don't feel like that's the honest answer," I said, feeling frustrated. "I hate feeling this way about an apparent brother, but I know better than anyone that just a CNA relation is not enough to keep people from wronging people and I don't know him or anything about him." I huffed. "I mean, I know you and I have disagreed on Drift and I understand why, but I had information about the mech and now I know him enough to feel solid enough to say the information was accurate. I know nothing about Solarcharge from any outside sources. And my intuition is screaming at me to turn and run, duck around corners and take the long way to avoid him, that kind of thing. And I'm not typically the type to hide from that which I find scary."

Sunstreaker chuckled. "You aren't," he agreed, recalling our encounter in the showers. "You just let yourself get beat up."

"I didn't let you beat me up because I feared you, I did that cause I didn't wanna hurt you if my fighting instincts took over," I said. "I faced Ser-ket multiple times and she's perhaps who I fear most next to Shockwave. Even Megatron, who also terrifies me, pales next to her in fear factor. I would defy all of them to my dying breath. My point is, my first instinct is not to run away, it's to fight. There's a particular kind of unnerving Solarcharge is dinging off my intuition and I don't like it."

"Hmm, I see," Sunstreaker said and nudged me slightly.

I looked at him and he motioned with his helm. I looked toward where he indicated and felt my energon lines go cold. Distantly, out of audial range luckily, was Solarcharge walking around a corner with Inferno looking annoyed—clearly having been pestered into going this way.

I made a noise. "I would ask how he knew I was here, but I know the answer this time. Plus, there's a small chance he's not here to stalk me this time."

Sunstreaker made a face. "I'm guessing he is," he said, eyeing the mech as he looked right at us. "My advice? Don't let yourself be caught alone with him again."

"I don't plan to," I said. "He's not allowed to wander the base by himself anyways."

"Good," Sunstreaker said. He paused. "Did you have breakfast this morning?"

"Yeah, why?" I asked.

"You just look a little sluggish still," Sunstreaker said. "Your systems are taking longer to recover than normal."

"I'd noticed, too," I said. "I haven't been sleeping well. I think it's catching up to me. I'm going to talk to Ratchet about it, I think. It's coming to a point where I need to do something about it. And I don't think running myself to complete exhaustion is a good idea right now."

"It's never really a good idea," Sunstreaker pointed out.

"Fair, but it's a tactic for resetting the ol' circadian rhythm." I said.

Sunstreaker rolled his optics. "Let's get you to Ratchet," he said. "He'll be glad to see you anyways."

"Fine by me," I said, glancing to see Inferno prodding Solarcharge into a different direction, possibly at Sunstreaker's request.

"It's probably best for you to stay with someone at all times while he is here as well," Sunstreaker said. "I know you live in your own quarters now, but I would suggest seeing if one of the bonded pairs or femmes will let you bunk with them."

"I could always hurt myself and bunk in medbay again," I joked.

Sunstreaker shot me a dry look.

"I could also just portal over and pick up a fellow morning bot in the mornings before leaving my quarters," I compromised. "I won't adjust to having my own quarters if I just run from them at a small sign of danger, Sunstreaker. It's counterintuitive. I'll set up measures within it to make sure I am safe within them. If you really don't think I am safe alone, I could always invite someone to bunk with me."

Sunstreaker sighed at that. "I suppose," he said.

"I'll ask Red Alert to help," I said. "I hear he's one of the mechs who arrived with Ultra Magnus. I haven't met him yet, but he's well known for being paranoid and well versed in security."

Sunstreaker grunted. "Ok," he said, relaxing. "That's an acceptable course of action."

Ironhide stepped out of the Ground Bridge and looked out toward the direction of the coordinates provided. He sighed.

"Why'd it have to be in the ocean?" He asked.

"Look on the brightside," Jazz said, grinning. "At least you can have company!"

Ironhide shot the smaller mech a dry look—the driest thing about this mission.

Jazz chuckled at the black mech's ire, greatly amused by Ironhide's aversion to water.

The two mechs walked toward the shoreline and came to a stop just before the water reached their pedes.

"Shadebreaker would've loved this one," Jazz commented.

"Mhm," Ironhide hummed in agreement.

He regretted that their one bot who absolutely adored the ocean was not here to join them. She was busy with her usual training and would also need to do some training with Solarcharge today. It would've made delving into the water a bit more bearable to watch the joy in his pupil's face as they moved through the water.

"You ready?" Jazz asked.

"As ready I can be to get rusted," Ironhide said grouchily.

"It won't be that bad," Jazz said.

Ironhide huffed.

They stepped into the water then, disappearing under the surface before long. It was cold, despite the warm climate they were in, but not so cold their frames couldn't handle it. They came to a drop off before they reached the coordinates and they looked down to see how far it went.

Sharing a look with Jazz first, Ironhide lowered himself over the edge to climb down carefully. He chose his handholds carefully, not wanting to damage the delicate ecosystem more than necessary. This part, he knew, Shadebreaker wouldn't have liked.

Eventually they found the bottom. And their destination, not far from it. There was just enough sunlight reaching down here for them to make it out without turning their flashlights on.

Ironhide moved toward the structure and searched it until he found the rune that caused the entrance to open up for them. Water rushed inside, pulling sea life and debris with it, as they entered.

They made their way through the structure with the current, fighting a bit to stay on their pedes. It wasn't too difficult, but the current was just enough that they had to brace their pedes with each step so it wouldn't be swept forward.

Eventually the current calmed as the water pressure evened out and they could make their way more easily through the halls. They came to a room with a mural, pretty standard for these locations it seemed like, and Ironhide began searching for the rune that allow them to progress.

When the way opened, it was a less standard hallway. It was, in fact, a stairway that led up and out of the water. Ironhide was grateful to be out of the water, though he longed for a towel and the warmth of Chromia's embrace. His sensors gave him all kinds of warnings about things that had found their way into the crevices of his armor.

It was very unpleasant.

It didn't help that Jazz was there laughing softly at him.

"Laugh it up, mech," Ironhide grouched, flinging a piece of seaweed at him.

Ironhide moved further up the stairs without pausing to see if the seaweed made contact or not. His optics followed the images that decorated the walls of the stairway. These ones seemed to depict a different kind of enemy than the others had.

"What do you make of these images?" He asked Jazz.

"It looks like more than just mini-crons are going to be involved on our opposing side," Jazz said, having noticed them as well. "I'm taking pictures for the others back home."

"Perhaps Shadebreaker will know what they are." Ironhide muttered, looking at the odd creature.

"And, if not, her brother probably will," Jazz said.

Ironhide grunted. He had some thoughts about Solarcharge, but decided to keep them to himself for now. They had too little information about him to know anything for certain. Regardless, Jazz was probably right. Solarcharge would probably know exactly what they were depicting. And what mattered was that they were properly prepared to stop the World Eater.

At the top of the staircase the space opened into a room similar to the one they'd found Chromia's Shard within. The mural inside had more of those new kinds of enemies, swarming above the depicted bots in droves and surrounding what looked like a stylized depiction of a spark chamber. Almost like it was a defensive system within a mech. It was an unnerving thought.

"I'll call base for a Ground Bridge," Jazz said as Ironhide gazed around at the mural. "At least this room is mostly free of water so we don't have to go back into the ocean."

Ironhide grunted in agreement, eyeing the ring of water that went along the borders of the room. The flow in the water revealed the purpose of the moat was to divert water that made its way into the room back out. He was grateful for the builder's foresight about it as he stepped up to the pedestal that held the Shard upon it. He reached out and took hold of it, pausing a moment to make sure nothing was going to happen before turning away as a Ground Bridge opened.

"Let's go home and get dried off," Ironhide grouched, walking toward the portal.

"Agreed," Jazz said, still clearly amused by how much Ironhide didn't like water.

"Focus your energy and will into your EM field," Solarcharge directed as I sat across from him with legs crossed next to Chromia. "And push your EM field toward the Shard."

I shifted a wing in confusion, frowning as I contemplated his words. I knew a bit about EM fields—that it was the energy I sensed flowing between bots that my wings were sensitive to. I knew they could also be affected by the emotions of the bot emitting them. It was very similar to the same fields talked about by some of the proponents of Conscious Discipline that existed between humans. Except Cybertronians were much more sensitive to and aware of the field. And due to the inherent differences, Cybertronian EM fields were also on a different wavelength that humans didn't seem to pick up at all. I didn't know how to actively manipulate it, however, besides regulating my emotions.

I paused my thoughts and glanced over as Chromia's Shard lifted from the ground a little and then moved through the air to hover by hands.

"Huh," Chromia said. "This is actually not that complicated. Interesting. Can anyone do this?"

Solarcharge shook his helm. "Only select bots are ever born with the ability to interact with these Shards," he said. "Someone in your ancestry must be connected to the original wielder of the Shard. And another Shard wielder would not be able to wield your Shard."

I frowned. "So, theoretically," I said. "If it has to do with genetics… does that mean you and I could command each other's Shard if necessary?"

Solarcharge frowned. "Theoretically," he said. "But it might be difficult to pull off what we need to do, given our Shards will need to be placed too far away from each other for one of us to place both simultaneously and our time window will be short once the first one is placed. But, given we have our portals, we could do it if absolutely necessary."

"Ah," I said, staring down at my Shard with narrowed optics.

"What's your concern, fembot?" Chromia asked.

I looked up at her, looking a bit sheepish. "While I know about EM fields, I haven't learned how to actively affect them at all," I said. "I mean, I know my emotions affect my EM field and thus I affect it whenever I regulate those, but, like…I've felt a few of you brush your EM fields against mine…I wasn't even sure if it was intentional or not. It didn't really strike me as something important to learn as of yet and there's been so much that I had not made it to it on my list of things." I pulled my wings in close, feeling the need to make myself small to avoid trouble.

"Ah, well, that makes sense," Chromia said. "Given everything going on, it does seem like a rather minor thing, doesn't it? Except now it's important to know."

"We can teach you that," Solarcharge reassured, starting to reach out, but then just flipping his hand palm up. "I suppose it makes sense that is something you would have to learn, growing up for so long as a human without any memory of your pre-human days."

My wings shifted as I frowned. "That's the second time you've mentioned me having pre-human days," I said uncertainly, still not entirely sure whether I believed him about it. "How…old was I when our father…'hid' me as a human?"

Solarcharge gazed at me for a moment. "From my understanding, you were still a sparkling," he said. "I don't know all the details. Obviously, there must be more to the story to explain you being an adult if you only lived the typical human lifespan."

"I lived about 32 years, to my knowledge," I said. "And I've been Cybertronian for…roughly…" I paused to calculate, muttering about my time with the bots being just over a year and a half then adding that to the time Ratchet thought my frame said it had spent being abused by Shockwave's experiments. "Several years. I don't have an exact timeframe, precisely. Maybe...ten years? Give or take?"

Solarcharge frowned and for a moment I thought he might press me for how I could be so unsure. "Add on the years you spent as a Cybertronian sparkling, you'd still only just be a youngling—a few years from your first transformation," he said, thankfully not prying into it. "We would have to ask our father more to find out why it appears you are much older than that."

"Yeah, cause according to Ratchet, my frame concurs with my mind that I'm an adult in the same relative age group as him," I said. "Younger, but not by a degree our relationship would be considered…weird..by Cybertronian standards at least."

Solarcharge tilted his helm, blinking. "You asked him about it?" There was a mild sense of disapproval I could sense from his field and tone.

"I was curious how my human age ended up translating into Cybertronian age with my change," I said, resisting the urge to snap defensively. Not to mention there was part of me that felt concern about if our relationship was weird or questionable. "I'd assumed it had to do with…how it happened. I mean, if I had returned to Cybertronian as a youngling, it'd be pretty strange running around as a kid with an adult mind for all intents and purposes. Humans mature a lot faster than Cybertronians." But, also, I doubted Shockwave would have wanted a little sparkling running around his lab.

"That's fair. And it is possible that the way it happened did affect your bodily age," Solarcharge said. "Without knowing how that came to be, I cannot say. It could also have to do with the original actions our father took."

My wings shifted and then I shook my helm. "All we can do right now is theorize," I said. "I'd rather focus on our task at hand than dwell on a missed childhood."

"Very well," Solarcharge said. "It is not vastly different from how you activate your portals. You just have to identify your EM field internally so you can read and control what it is outputting. Also not a lot different from how one might direct emotions through spark bonds."

"Hm," I hummed thoughtfully. Then I turned my attention inward, mentally searching for some sign of something to control the EM fields. Was it a feeling? Was it a program? Was it in the spark? Spark felt right, so I focused there, familiar with it from practicing with my friendship bonds. I felt those clearly, having grown used to their presence and how they worked. It was another moment before I noticed the energy that emitted from my spark around those bonds.

"Oh," I said as something clicked in my processor.

I felt Chromia's amusement over our friendship bond and it rippled into my EM field from that as well as her EM field where she sat next to me. Experimentally, I tried brushing her EM field with mine, directing some of the sheepishness I felt into it like I did sometimes with emotions and feelings through the bonds. Hers pushed back with a feeling of praise and encouragement.

I looked down at the Shard that sat on the ground in front of me. I focused on extending my EM field out toward the Shard, kinda like how I reached out through my bonds but focusing entirely on my EM field. I tried to put some intent behind it to tell the Shard to float, but nothing happened.

"It may not come as easily to you since you didn't grow up with this whole EM field stuff," Chromia said as she sensed my feelings of discouragement over our bond.

I sighed, wings lowering.

"Chromia is right," Solarcharge said. "Developmentally, you wouldn't have been at the stage of being able to manipulate your EM field for some time before the entire ability would've been placed outside your grasp. Even if you had retained it, you had no one to explain it to you or guide you. It takes years for this to be second nature to bots."

"We don't have years," I said in frustration, rubbing at my knee nervously.

"You're right, we don't," Solarcharge said patiently. "But what we do have is a base full of bots perfectly capable of helping you figure it out. You have step one figured out. I felt your shift in your EM field when you brushed Chromia's with it. It spread out all around you rather than being fully directed—you don't have full control. That will come with practice and focus. We still have time. You don't have to have it mastered today."

"How much more past what Chromia has accomplished is there to learn, though?" I asked, wings shifting anxiously.

"There is more, but don't focus on that," Solarcharge said. "You need to focus on where you are."

I huffed a little, feeling inadequate and like failing my fellow bots was inevitable. It always felt like things pertaining to taking something I felt inwardly and projecting it outwardly was something I just couldn't do. The whole Wishing Well exercise from learning Conscious Discipline was something I had failed to do. At least during the trainings. One could argue I did it just fine at times other times, though not always, not when I was stressed because my job had been threatened over something stupid. There had been plenty of times I had done just what Wishing Well was meant to accomplish, even if it never felt clear to me if the actual method was a factor or if it was purely the words and physical actions. While I was a strong defender of Conscious Discipline, it did not feel as if every aspect of it was something everyone could use consciously.

"Hey," Chromia said, placing a hand on my shoulder. "We're just getting started. Be patient with yourself. We've all had a lifetime of practice affecting our EM fields. You just learned that you could. Sure, there's a time crunch, but I believe you can do it."

"Ok," I said, not sure I wanted to voice my doubts in front of Solarcharge. Not yet. "One step at a time. Just like everything else."

"Exactly," Chromia said.

"But faster," I added.

Chromia gave me a long-suffering look.

"I can't take four months plus to get it down," I pointed out.

"Fair," Chromia said dryly.

Solarcharge frowned. "We will focus on honing your skills with your EM field today," he said. "And I will speak with Prowl about adjusting the training schedule to account for this. I need to teach the others the next step regardless of where you are after today and you will need someone to focus on helping you learn basic EM field manipulation."

I made a face. "I'm sure any one of the bots would be willing to help me with it so you can focus on the next steps," I said.

"I'm sure Elita will be willing to help you," Chromia said. "Or Jazz. Prowl even."

I nodded. "Any one of them I am comfortable with," I said. "Though anyone who has free time in their schedule would be fine."

Solarcharge nodded to that. "That would be helpful," he said, though he looked regretful. "I will check on your progress and as soon as you are ready, I will teach you the next steps as well."

"Very well," I said. "Let us practice, then."

"They're Unicron's antibodies," Solarcharge said after looking at the pictures Jazz brought up of the murals they had found in the structure where Ironhide's Shard was found.

"So we're going inside Unicron, eh? Fun times," Shadebreaker said dryly, not looking surprised at all.

"You don't look surprised," Ultra Magnus observed.

"One of the other realities I mentioned involved doing such," she replied, shrugging. "I was kinda expecting it. It's not going to be a pleasant trip."

"Indeed," Solarcharge said. "There are specific locations we will need to place and activate our Shards to force Unicron back into slumber. And then we'll need to enter the Spark Chamber to trap his spark within the containment device your scientists are creating. What is the progress on that?"

"Elita and Wheelljack are currently in negotiations for the materials they need," Optimus replied. "Once acquired it is projected to be complete in around a month and a half."

"Hm," Solarcharge hummed. "Very well, that is within our allotted timeframe. Provided everyone can find and master their Shards by then, we should be able to take care of Unicron before he becomes too big of a threat."

Shadebreaker's wings shifted slightly.

"Prowl, I will need to go over training schedules with you again as a snag has come up with one of our Shard wielders," Solarcharge said, being nonspecific.

Prowl nodded with a frown. "I understand," he said. "We can discuss that once this meeting is concluded."

"Will this snag affect our ability to meet our timeframe?" Ultra Magnus asked.

"That entirely depends upons how fast the wielder can catch up to speed," Solarcharge said. "But with concentrated focus on it, it should be no problem."

Ultra Magnus nodded, accepting this answer.

The meeting moved on then to Solarcharge going into more detail on what the murals were all depicting and the exact actions they would have to take when the time came. They would go over it all again, of course, but it was good to have an idea of what they were working toward.

Time passed. Shards were found. As the others practiced with them and came closer to mastering them, I struggled with mastering EM field manipulation. Unlike other periods of time, I was vividly aware of the time passing as I struggled with it as a few different bots tried to help me figure out how to focus my control over my field.

A month had passed and I was feeling stressed about it one afternoon after training with it with Arcee. In an effort to help me relax she took me to the pub and we sat at the bar where I sat down with a heavy sigh and ordered an energon with what I had determined to be my favorite metallic flavorings so far.

"I just don't understand why manipulating my EM field is so hard for me," I said in frustration to her as Mirage served us our respective energons.

"It's because you're a beast former," Mirage said in a matter-of-fact tone. As if it should be the most obvious thing in the world.

"Pardon?" I asked, not sure if I should be offended or not, but feeling a bit so.

Mirage glanced at Arcee, but she seemed neutral so far herself, so he looked back at me as he started cleaning an empty cube. "You're a beast former. A lesser frame type. You do not have the higher functions the rest of us have. You are likely unable to focus the direction of your EM field. Otherwise you could do so by now."

I blinked at him. "Oh, you're not insightful, you're just racist," I said. "Should I even trust this energon?"

Mirage glared. "I would not sully my title by poisoning energon," he said.

"You sully your insignia with your racism," I shot back. I pushed my cube back toward him. "Keep that, I'll get my own energon."

"Whatever, I don't need to listen or serve a Con-symp monster," Mirage said with a non-chalant tone.

Something old—cold, dark and angry—filled my very being at that word. At monster. I closed my optics, clenching my hands into fists as I clamped walls tightly around my spark and my EM field as best I could.

"Alright you," Arcee said, standing up with a loud slap to the counter. "You do not get to talk to Shade' that way. You have any idea what she has done to help us?"

"It doesn't change what she is," Mirage said coldly.

Arcee snarled.

I put my hand on her shoulder. "A fight is not going to help anything, Arcee," I said quietly.

"I'm not letting this go, Mirage," Arcee said in warning tones.

Mirage shrugged and turned away.

Arcee let me pull her away, but I suspected if I hadn't she might've jumped the counter to fight him. I appreciated the thought, but I wasn't up for getting in trouble for a fight. Even a warranted one. I wasn't up for defending the case for sticking up for myself after the stress of my struggles to meet expectations.

I didn't let Arcee go until we were outside and she pulled her arm from me.

"You should've let me deck him," Arcee said hotly.

"And what would that accomplish?" I asked. "I'm too stressed to add on assault charges to deal with."

Arcee huffed as we walked down the road, toward the lounges. "Fine, but he's not getting away with it."

"Of course not," I said. "Prowl will hear of it. At the very least."

"How are you so calm?"

"I'm not," I replied shortly, letting some of my emotions slip past the walls I had slammed around my spark and through our bond.

"You want to hit the practice field?" Arcee offered.

"We still need lunch," I reminded.

"We can get lunch after," Arcee said.

"Very well," I said.

"Ow," I complained as Ratchet worked on repairing my dislocated wings a couple hours later.

"Hold still," Ratchet ordered.

"I'm trying," I said.

Ratchet huffed. "I'm almost afraid to ask how you managed to dislocate your wing so badly," he said, sounding annoyed.

"We were probably just fighting much too roughly," I said, rubbing my helm sheepishly as I tried to ignore the pain the meds were not handling for me.

"An understatement," Arcee admitted, cradling her wrist as she waited to be seen herself. She was also favoring her left leg.

Ratchet tsked at us, shaking his helm. "I don't suppose it has to do with why you've blocked your emotions off from your bonds," he said, slight rebuke in his tone. I was not usually one to hide my emotions and I could sense his worry.

"Ermmm," I said, looking at Arcee as she winced in sympathy. "Yeah. Just a number of stressful things piling up. And then Mirage said some things that really didn't help."

Ratchet hummed and I felt a sense of protectiveness over our bond. "What'd he say?"

"Just some racist slag," I said, shrugging my wing he wasn't working on.

"You gonna be more specific?" Ratchet asked gruffly.

Arcee frowned as I tilted my helm.

"It doesn't matter that much," I said. "I will simply avoid him from now on and tell Prowl about it. I do not wish to add dealing with it to my plate right now. Figuring out how to sort out what I need to do to deal with Unicron is more important."

I could tell Ratchet was not happy with this stance. Neither was Arcee—especially not Arcee, as she knew what Mirage had said.

"If it becomes more of a problem then I will act accordingly," I assured them. "But dealing with Unicron is more important right now. I have enough stress trying to master my EM field in time to also master my Shard."

Ratchet sighed. "Still struggling with that, huh?"

"Yeah," I said with a sigh.

"Hm," Ratchet hummed in thought. Then he switched to comms. .:I think I know who might be able to help. You have to promise to keep a secret for him, however.:.

.:Of course! Always!:. I returned, feeling curious and confused.

.:Great. Meet me at the secondary lounge tonight at 10pm. Alone.:.

.:Ok.:.

I wondered at the secrecy of it.

That night I quietly slipped out of my quarters after taking a late dinner to account for being up late on purpose. I had taken a nap between my afternoon training session with Springer and Firestar—which had to be restricted to lighter work physically and EM field attempts—and said meal as well. I had no way of knowing how long this late night rendezvous was going to take.

I would've portalled, but the need for secrecy led me to taking to flying to the lesser used lounge instead. Portalling would call attention from security and I didn't know if the bot in charge of the station should be made aware of this meeting by doing such at all. If they knew anything about whatever secret I was about to be let in on that clearly Arcee didn't know.

I landed outside the lounge and checked for spark signatures and lifesigns around me. The only ones I picked up were inside already. Ratchet, who I was expecting, and one other, who I suspected was the mech whose secret I was about to learn. A mech I knew.

Ultra Magnus.

What secret could Ultra Magnus have? Was it one I knew? I thought of the Lost Light comics and the secret he held in them. When had Minimus become Ultra Magnus? How many bots from that comic were going to show up?

And, if he was Minimus, why was he the mech Ratchet thought might be able to help me?

After confirming the two inside were the only other bots present within distance to detect me, I transformed into my bipedal mode and knocked on the door. I waited a couple beats and glanced around with a frown before the door opened and Ratchet was pulling me in.

"Were you followed?" He asked.

"No," I said, glancing up at Ultra Magnus. "Though I'm not sure I follow why there's a need for such secrecy. None of us are the type to break laws here."

Ratchet chuckled slightly at my logic, shaking his helm. "What you are about to learn is sensitive information that some bots might use against Ultra Magnus here," he said. "You got a taste of how some feel about beast formers from what you said."

I frowned, bowing my helm. "As much as I don't understand it," I said dryly. I frowned up at Ultra Magnus, optics taking in his frame. "Though I'm afraid none of my information tells me why that is relevant to you, sir."

Ultra Magnus sighed, then looked at Ratchet with a doubtful look.

Ratchet returned that look with one of encouragement.

The larger mech looked back at me with that same hesitant look in his expression. "I am not the mech you think I am."

"Hm," I hummed thoughtfully. I tilted my helm, shifting a wing curiously.

"I suspect you may have some idea from what I have been told," he continued. "But the mech known as Ultra Magnus actually perished a long time ago. I am merely a stand-in."

"Hmm," I hummed again. "I do have some idea, you are correct. Though the relevancy to my struggles with controlling my EM field escapes me. The reality I know in which this was the case, wherein Ultra Magnus perished and subsequently was replaced by a series of bots with the capabilities of bearing the Magnus armor, none of the information I know of the bots makes this relevant to this struggle." I paused a moment. "Unless Dominus was naturally a turbofox alt mode, I suppose." I muttered at the end, finger over my lip. "Which means it would stand to reason Minimus might also be, even though his alt was never talked about…" I regretted never looking it up in that moment.

Ultra Magnus blinked and then sighed. "I see," he said. "You do have information about me."

I looked back up at him as he shifted. Then his optics grew dark as the armor shifted strangely and clasps I had not noticed opened. The armor opened and after a moment a smaller mech climbed out. A much smaller mech. Once he was out and standing before me, it was he that was looking up at me with red optics.

He looked much like the comic book Minimus, yet different as well. There was more evidence of his alt mode on his frame in this reality—including, but not limited to, a bushy looking metallic tail. It was the main difference, the rest being a lot more subtle.

"My name is Minimus Ambus, of the House of Ambus," the mech properly introduced himself. "Latest bearer in a long line of bearers of the Magnus armor."

I nodded, not helping the slight grin on my face as I reached a hand out to him. "Nice to properly meet you, Minimus," I greeted him. "Your secret is safe with me as long as you wish it to remain so."

"I do appreciate it," he said, taking my hand firmly in his smaller green and white one. "And to answer your question of the relevancy to your struggles, I do indeed have a turbofox as my alt mode. Like you, I am a beast former. And I had similar struggles when I was first learning how to manipulate my EM field. Ordinarily, it wouldn't be a problem to let you take your time to sort it out, but given our circumstances…"

"I need to figure it out," I nodded in agreement. "So Mirage wasn't entirely wrong. My frame type is a barrier."

Minimus frowned. "What, exactly, did Mirage say?"

My wings shifted and I ducked my helm. "Are you sure you want to know? It's pretty racist and harsh."

"I should know, so I know how to act," he replied. "It is not ok for him to treat you poorly for your frame type."

My wings shifted and I glanced at his dormant Magnus armor for a moment before looking back at him. I sighed and then told him exactly how my visit to the pub had gone.

"That slagger," Ratchet said as Minimus frowned deeply. "I'll have to give him an attitude adjustment at his next physical. You have all the same functions the rest of us have. Your type of alt mode doesn't change that."

I ducked my helm slightly. "I know that," I said. "His ignorance is his own problem."

"If he knew who you were, he would not dare say anything like that," Minimus said.

"It shouldn't take my parentage for him to treat me like a bot," I argued, not looking at the smaller mech in front of me. "Just like it shouldn't take your Magnus armor for him to take you seriously." I could feel that cold, dark anger bubbling under the surface again and clamped my walls down tight to block it from perception. They did not need to see that side of me.

"While I agree, some bots are steeply ingrained in their prejudices," Minimus said. "There's a reason I hide my beast mode."

I sighed at that. "And I choose to keep my parentage a secret for my own reasons. The bots who know at this point are all the bots I feel should know. Mirage has no reason to know. He is not my friend nor my commanding officer."

Minimus nodded his understanding.

"That all aside, while our frame type does mean EM field manipulation is inherently trickier to sort out for us, it is not impossible," Minimus told me. "It is merely a bit different than it is for most bots. It requires a bit of a different approach."

"Oh? So I'm not inept, I'm just approaching it the wrong way?" I asked, feeling an immense amount of relief overshadow my feelings of anger.

"No, you are not inept," Minimus reassured me, reaching out a hand and lightly touching my arm. "I am sorry you have felt that way."

I sighed heavily. "It's not the first time I have struggled with something like this," I admitted quietly. "And people once in my life definitely made me feel inept because I could not do things exactly the same way they could."

"They were wrong to make you feel that way," Minimus told me.

"Indeed," Ratchet said, placing his hand on my shoulder. "There is never only one way to accomplish something. Just because you could not do something exactly their way doesn't mean you couldn't have done it."

"Thank you," I said quietly, feeling a lot of emotions welling up inside me. "That really means a lot to me to hear. It is something I have struggled with a lot since then."

Ratchet rubbed my shoulder. "I must return to medbay," he said. "A couple bots are in medbay and I can't leave them unsupervised for too long."

"Alright," I said. "I'll see you tomorrow then."

"Mhm," Ratchet hummed. He gave me a quick peck on the cheek, which I returned before he left.

"Shall we get started?" Minimus asked when I turned toward him.

"Yes," I said, thankful to not dwell on the previous topic, and then followed him to the couches.

We sat on the couches facing each other. He walked me through his process of manipulating his EM field and then gave me a moment to try it myself. We sat there for some time practicing, trading back and forth as we described to each other how it felt as best we each could.

It was an interesting exercise not just in understanding my own functions regarding my EM field, but also in regards to understanding Minimus Ambus. At the end of the session I had finally managed to specifically direct my EM field toward his and not just outward in general.

Minimus looked at me with clear pride on his face. "Good," he said. "You are a fast learner once you have proper guidance. Not that the other bots didn't try, but they would not have known this difference in how to approach it."

I grinned sheepishly. "All this time I thought I was just bad at it and would never be able to do it," I said. "It was just a matter of being different." I shook my helm. "Go figure."

Minimus chuckled lightly. "Just don't go telling bots the reasons for the difference or you may give me away."

"Or just completely baffle and confuse them," I said. "Don't worry, Minimus. I said your secret is safe with me and I meant that."

"You have my gratitude," Minimus bowed his helm. "Most bots do not even know I am not really Ultra Magnus. Counting you now, that makes five bots on base who know who and what I am."

"May I ask who else knows? So I know I don't accidentally say anything around someone who doesn't?"

"Besides you and Ratchet, only Optimus, Elita and Prowl are aware of my true identity," Minimus revealed.

I shifted in surprise. None of those bots had arrived with him. "None of your crew you've been traveling with know at all?" I asked, surprise clear in my tone.

Minimus shook his helm. "There was never a need for any of them to know," he said. "And I would not say I am close to any of them either. I am not really close to very many bots at all."

"I can understand that," I said, frowning. Some things just didn't need sharing with everyone. Who was I to judge him hiding his beast mode and House?

"Do you have your Shard with you?" Minimus asked.

"I do," I said, pulling the object from subspace.

"Let us practice with it, then," Minimus said. "Wheeljack And Perceptor are almost done constructing the device to contain Unicron's spark. We don't have a great deal of time to catch you up with the rest of us. While we have another two months before Unicron fully awakens, it is ideal that we handle it before then."

My wings made a stressed movement. "Right," I said and then gusted air through my systems. I tried to ignore the inner voice in my helm calling me the weak link. Those thoughts would not help me. I was a quick learner when given direction and given proper tools and allowed to grow. I would have figured out the EM field in time, we just didn't have the time for me to take the usual years it took bots to master it. That was why Minimus had intervened to walk me through it so thoroughly. He could do that here too most likely. It would be fine. It just had to function, not be perfect.

"Don't stress too much," Minimus said. "This first step is the hardest step. Now that you can handle it, the rest should be pretty simple."

"That's good to know," I said quietly, turning the Shard over in my hands. "But we still don't know that I have the first step. Directing an EM field specifically toward you is one thing. Using it to make this thing float as if I'm using the Force is another."

"Let us try it, then," Minimus motioned for me to go ahead and do so.

I made a face and then sat the Shard down on the table between the couches. Then I sat back and focused in on my EM field, moving my hands in toward each other and then out toward the Shard as I concentrated on it. The Shard shifted a little, lifting a touch off the table…

And then it fell back onto it.

The disappointment made my concentration pop and it stopped moving all together and I sighed. I dropped my helm into my hands. Of course I could figure out EM field manipulation and then still struggle with this step that seemed easy for the others to pick up immediately. At least this was the hardest step, right?

"Don't beat yourself up," Minimus said. "I did not get this on the first try either. Sideswipe did, but I didn't. I did, however, get the step after this one pretty quickly while the others seemed to struggle with it."

"And you think it has to do with our frame type," I said. "That it just changes which part is difficult."

Minimus nodded. "That's my theory at least, given the similarities so far in your struggles to my own," he said. "Let's keep at it. I am certain you can do it."

"I am pressing x to doubt, but I am also not giving up," I said and readied myself to keep trying.

Minimus's expression said clearly that he didn't understand my reference at all.

And I did keep trying. Well into the night. Minimus fell asleep on the couch across from me at some point, but I remained focused on my task at hand. I did not stop trying until my frame was too tired and I was passed out myself in the wee hours of the morning.

Chapter Text

Chapter 30: Uncomfortable Situations

"So," I said as I sat down with Ultra Magnus and Solarcharge for breakfast before we got to training with our Shards. "You mentioned our mother once, Solarcharge. Is she still….around?"

"She is not," Solarcharge frowned, gazing into his cube of energon. "She perished at the hands of some Decepticons while we were separated one day. I was too late to save her by the time I knew she was in danger."

"I see," I said quietly, wings lowering. "I'm sorry for your loss."

"And I am sorry you lack memories of her," Solarcharge said and it was the first time his tone had truly felt genuine to my audials. "You were old enough to have some memories from my understanding."

I shrugged. "Well, you know dad," I said. "Hiding his misdeeds allll the time." I waved my cube a bit. "He probably blocked my memories so I wouldn't know what he did."

Solarcharge frowned a bit at that. "He's really not told you anything, then?"

I shook my helm. "Did you really expect him to?" I asked.

Solarcharge tilted his helm, a calculating look in his optics for a moment before it left, and then looked back at his energon cube. "I am uncertain," he said. "I never knew him growing up myself. The brief time I spent with him before coming here left a lot of questions. I do not know what to think."

"Welcome to my life for the last year or so," I said dryly, not showing how I once again felt like he was deliberately omitting something from his story. "But I can tell you what I think now. I think he's a slagging terrible father who can rot in his little pocket dimension for all I care at this point. Even if he came and tried to explain himself, I'm not about to forgive what he did to me. Nothing excuses it."

Solarcharge's frown deepened. "You are not just talking about hiding you as a human, are you?"

"Nope," I said and downed a quarter of my cube in one gulp. "I don't even know enough about that to judge much besides the fact he basically abandoned a sparkling." It sounded like he'd abandoned both of us and that was all the more infuriating. Children were not to be abandoned, no matter the situation.

"What did he do that is so terrible?" Solarcharge asked.

"Why don't you ask Megatron when you see him to bring him in to face Unicron? I'm sure he knows just what I'm talking about," I said, tone containing quite a bit of bite to it.

Solarcharge looked up, narrowing his optics. He looked me over, optics resting for a moment on my partially armored wings—we were still working on my wing armor—and the scars that were visible if you looked close enough.

"Anyways," I said, swirling my energon. "That is a depressing topic. What was mom like? Unless that is too depressing for you to talk about."

Solarcharge considered me for a long moment as if debating whether or not to accept this topic change. He looked like he wanted to press the issue and force me to tell him exactly what our father had done that made me feel the way I did about him.

"She was very stubborn," he finally said.

"Runs in the family," Ultra Magnus said in jest.

I shot him a mock glare, though amusement made my lips twitch into a bit of a smile despite my efforts.

"Indeed," Solarcharge agreed. "And she had a tendency to put herself in harm's way to protect those close to her. Made protecting her a full time job sometimes. It was how she died. She was protecting our close friend, Influx, during a Decepticon attack."

"I see," I said, wings shifting a little. If self-sacrificialness was inherited, perhaps I had gotten it from her then, cause clearly it wasn't from our father. It had taken some work to get to a healthy spot regarding that. One could argue I still wasn't. "Was she kind then?"

"I would say so," Solarcharge said. "Though there are those out there who might disagree."

"Hmm," I hummed. "There are discrepancies like that for everyone, I'm sure." I was sure there were those who thought I was the absolute worst. "How come she raised you away from our father?"

"After he hid you away, she feared he might do the same with me when she began to carry once more," Solarcharge explained. "So she left him as soon as she found out. He didn't even know about me for a long time, or that's what he said. He just found out about me not long before I came here."

I raised an optic ridge in doubt. It had certainly seemed to me like the mech had kept close tabs on me back when I was human. How else would he have known how I would react to the dimming of my memory? How could he not known of his sparkmate giving birth to a son?

"That…sounds unlikely to be true to me," I said, tone reflecting my suspicion. "Given my…experience with the mech. I'm fairly sure that mech keeps close track of everything that has a connection to him."

"Hmm," Solarcharge hummed. "If that is true, then I have even more reason to be angry with him than I previously believed. There are some things I allowed to slide by because I believed he didn't know of them."

My wings shifted a little, frowning at that. "Such as?"

Solarcharge narrowed his optics. "It doesn't matter," he said firmly. "Not to you anyways."

My wings shifted at that answer. A simple statement of not wanting to talk about it would've sufficed, but I wouldn't push him. And it wouldn't help to get into an argument about the precise way he talked to me right at this moment. I was as much a stranger to him as he was to me, after all.

"Mother was very independent after that," Solarcharge said. "Never took another mate. She didn't even entertain the idea of looking."

I shifted a wing at the shift back to our mother. "Well, can't say I blame her," I finished my energon and then gathered the empty cubes. "Practice time, so we can move our focus away from these topics fully."

Solarcharge frowned. "I don't mind talking about our mother with you," he said.

I shifted a wing again. "Let me rephrase, I will not be able to focus on my practice if we stay on this subject," I said. "And I need to focus on it in order to catch up. I have finally made progress, but I still have a ways to go."

"That's fair," Solarcharge said, bowing his helm toward me.

After taking the empty cubes to the kitchen of the lounge we were using for our practice session, I returned to them and sat back down next to Ultra Magnus.

We spent the next couple hours focusing on my EM field manipulation of the Shard to move it. It went basically the same the whole time. I would get the Shard to move a bit, but not exactly move the way I wanted it to.

"Keep your focus," Solarcharge said. "Move the Shard toward you now."

I shifted my hand, waving it toward me as Ultra Magnus had suggested in a prior session. The Shard wavered in the air where I had gotten it off the table. Then it tilted over sideways, staying where it was. I tried motioning with my other hand and that just caused it to start spinning a little.

I sighed heavily and dropped my concentration. The Shard dropped back onto the table with a clack. For the fiftieth or so time. The whole session had gone like this, albeit in slightly different ways.

"You've made progress at least," Solarcharge said, clearly trying to be encouraging.

I shot him a dry look. Then I looked at Ultra Magnus, seeking guidance from the one mech that seemed to have a grasp on why I struggled with this. Well, the one mech who had a grasp and wasn't racist about it.

Ultra Magnus looked thoughtful himself. "Perhaps the intensity of your concentration is what's holding it in place," he suggested. "If you are so focused on holding your concentration, perhaps the Shard is reading that as a command to hold its position."

"Hmm," I gave a frustrated hum at that. "But it's taking an awful lot to hold my concentration and not be distracted by…well, everything. And it's not exactly like I will have a void to perform this task in when we go to deal with Unicron. I have to be able to do this while there's all kinds of little noises around me to tune out and ignore. And I'm having to actively do that cause this is so new to me. You'd think all my practice from having animals my whole life would've better prepared me."

"You'd think," Ultra Magnus agreed. "But you've also mentioned before that your hearing is more sensitive. You are picking up more now. It stands to reason that it would be harder to tune out, especially while trying to learn a new task while under stress."

I sighed heavily. "I suppose," I said, feeling disgruntled.

"Keep trying, I'm certain you can do it," Solarcharge encouraged. "Focus on only your task."

"What do you think I've been trying to do? The macarena?" I asked snarkily. My wings shifted and I sighed. "It's too loud. My processor wants to listen to every little thing cause it's freaking out mildly, not feeling safe. So I'm actively trying to force it to focus on the task and that's probably why the Shard is stubbornly staying in a spot. 'Hold concentration' and 'focus' is somehow translating to 'hold position' here."

Solarcharge frowned. "Perhaps you need to stop thinking about holding your concentration so much."

"Then my concentration will fray," I replied. "I'm too stressed and anxious."

"Then what do we need to do to alleviate those feelings?" Solarcharge asked.

My wings shifted. I needed him gone so my intuition could quiet down. Or to somehow prove I could trust him. I needed to master this so we could handle Unicron. I needed this all to be over. I needed to know if he really intended anyone here harm or not. I needed to not feel like I was waiting for a bomb to drop.

"I'm not sure," I said instead of all that.

Solarcharge frowned. Whether it was cause he didn't believe me or because he did, I wasn't sure. He opened his mouth and then paused. "I need to go take care of something," he said. "Keep practicing and I will return."

"Very well," I said.

I watched him leave and then shared a look with Ultra Magnus.

"Are you certain you do not know what will help you relax?"

"I know I will relax when this is all over and I gain some insight into whether Solarcharge is actually trustworthy or if he's acting," I replied. "Or, at least, when I master this. But I do not know what will help before. I constantly feel like I'm waiting for a bomb to drop right now. Especially with him around and his sneaking and stalking. I can't figure out whether he's being truthful about anything or not either. I don't trust him, yet he hasn't done anything so it just makes me more on edge. If I at least knew why, it might be easier."

Ultra Magnus nodded in understanding. "I don't really trust him either," he agreed. "But we do need to figure out how you can make this work."

"Worse case scenario, he can handle my Shard, in theory anyways," I said with a sigh. "Though I got the impression from him that he doesn't intend to handle my Shard."

"Do not give up yet," Ultra Magnus said. "Let's keep at it. There is a trick to it and we will figure out what works for you."

I nodded and then focused again on trying to manipulate the Shard through my EM field as would be needed.

"I do not feel safe letting that mech on base for so long," Prowl said with a frown as he, Solarcharge and Optimus met in the medbay meeting room.

"I understand," Solarcharge said. "I certainly would not suggest letting him on base in any other scenario, but I do need to teach him how to control his Shard as well. I cannot be bouncing between here and the Nemesis for one mech."

"What about this other mech you spoke of?" Prowl asked. "Where is he?"

"He will be here soon," Solarcharge replied. "However, he is receiving training from his parents before joining us. You will meet him in due time."

Prowl ground his denta. "You are asking us to welcome in a strange mech we don't know and also our greatest enemy," he said. "How do you expect us to agree to this?"

"I am not saying you do so without precaution," Solarcharge said. "You keep me under guard, you can do the same for him, correct?"

"The only mech capable of preventing him from acting as he pleases is maybe Optimus," Prowl said.

Optimus nodded. "He fears the power of the Star Saber," he said. "I cannot spend 24/7 shadowing him to keep him in line."

Solarcharge frowned, ducking his helm. "I know this is a big ask," he acknowledged. "What if, instead of bringing him here to stay, I bring him here for training sessions and then return him to his ship?"

"And why can you not train him aboard the Nemesis?" Prowl asked.

"We have already lost time with Shadebreaker's struggles with her Shard," Solarcharge replied. "I cannot afford focusing any more of my time on a singular mech. I have already lost more time than I should've to train Megatron in focusing so much here."

"That is your own fault," Prowl said. "We specifically placed Shadebreaker with other bots so that you would be free to help the other Shard bearers and instead you butted into her sessions repeatedly." He glanced at his datapad where he had marked each time he had ducked out of a training session to check in on Shadebreaker and for how long and the number of complaints he had received.

"The others are coming along very well," Solarcharge said.

"And yet you say you cannot spare time away from them," Prowl said, a bite in his tone. "If you had allowed Shadebreaker space to sort out her EM field struggles then you would not be facing this difficulty."

"I understand that," Solarcharge said. "But the fact remains we are on a time crunch and I cannot afford to lose time by splitting my time anymore. I need to group our training sessions further. Regardless of where Shadebreaker is."

"And if Shadebreaker fails to master her Shard?" Optimus asked.

"Then we will have to hope I can take over her Shard for her and handle hers on top of my own," Solarcharge replied.

"I thought only the owner of each Shard could manipulate them," Prowl frowned.

"Theoretically, since Shadebreaker and I share the same lineage, we should be able to manipulate each other's Shards," Solarcharge replied.

"Have you tested this theory yet?" Optimus asked.

Solarcharge paused. "Not yet," he said.

"You should do that," Optimus said. "Knowing for sure it would work might alleviate some of Shadebreaker's stress and that could help her ability to accomplish this goal."

Solarcharge nodded in understanding, frowning. He thought the opposite. He thought that knowing it would work might demotivate her from trying. Perhaps the prospect of it had already affected her performance negatively.

"In regards to your request about Megatron," Optimus said. "I will accept him joining us for sessions located in one of the bot-only locations of the base only. And only for sessions for which I am present."

"Very well, I can accept those terms," Solarcharge said. "I will request leave just before our session this afternoon to fetch him in that case."

"Very well," Optimus said.

"Thank you," Solarcharge said, bowing his helm.

Solarcharge stepped onto the flight deck of the Nemesis once more and then waited. He placed his hands behind his back and glanced toward where he knew a security camera was located.

He didn't have to wait long before Megatron was striding out the large bay door toward him.

"The mystery mech returns," Megatron said. He held up the silver Shard in one large claw. "You said this thing would obey me, but you failed to tell me how to command it." He snarled. "It doesn't respond to words or to physical input."

"I have returned to invite you along for training sessions," Solarcharge replied smoothly. "At the Autobot base. I'm afraid I have focused too heavily on one of our Shard wielders and as a result our time is limited and I must train you while I further the training of the Autobot wielders. They have agreed to let you on base under the condition you are constantly under monitor by Prime and you are only to be allowed in bot-only areas of the base."

"Hmph," Megatron smirked. "Intriguing. I'm impressed you managed to convince them to allow such a thing. And it puts me at such close vicinity to my prize."

Solarcharge didn't allow anything to show in his body language or expression. "Time is of the essence. We have less than two months to complete everyone's training and we are behind schedule as it is. It is imperative we work hard. Your training sessions will be long and with little breaks unless you master your Shard with speed."

"And when do these lessons start?" Megatron asked.

"If you are ready, we will be heading to the base in a moment," Solarcharge said. "Under the stipulation that I place this subspace lock upon you." He held out the device. "And you must remove your fusion cannon."

"I trust you have the deactivation code?" Megatron asked. "After all, you remember our deal, don't you?"

"I do," Solarcharge replied, tone neutral as he slightly inclined his helm.

"Very well, then," Megatron waved a hand in front of him.

Solarcharge waited as Megatron removed his fusion cannon from his arm—his normal arm having been replaced, he recognized since the last time he had seen him. The mech then placed the weapon within his subspace for retrieval later and looked expectantly at Solarcharge.

"I'm afraid I never caught your name, Seeker," Megatron said as Solarcharge approached to place the subspace lock.

"That's because I never gave it," Solarcharge replied as he took Megatron's hand to wrap the device around his wrist securely. "You may call me Solarcharge."

"I've heard that name before," Megatron said. "In my studies into the Thirteen."

"I'm not surprised," Solarcharge said. He paused. "What did your studies say?"

"You are Vector Prime's descendant, are you not?" Megatron asked. "That's the rumor, anyhow."

"Perhaps," Solarcharge said. "Rumors do claim a lot. Not all of which are true. Speaking of rumors. Rumor has it, you know why Shadebreaker isn't on speaking terms with the aforementioned Prime."

"If rumors are to be believed," Megatron said silkily. "Then perhaps she blames said Prime for the experiments one of my mechs ran on her."

"I see," Solarcharge said. "How would you think that?"

"Why else would she tell you to ask me?" Megatron asked smoothly, waving a hand.

Solarcharge frowned at that. It was a good point.

"Shall we?" Megatron asked, waving his hand toward some empty space.

"Yes," Solarcharge replied.

He opened a portal to the Autobot base. Specifically to a buidling that had been designated for the training of Megatron with extra shielding put around it to scramble his sensors and such, formulated so that Solarcharge would be able to portal them in and out of it.

It was a couple days later that Solarcharge insisted on a group training session with all the Shard wielders on base. I had been made aware that he had started bringing Megatron on base for training, but I had managed to avoid the sessions involving him thus far.

But I had not made further progress and Solarcharge was getting impatient. He thought a group session might help. That someone might have an insight for me that the bots I had been working with had not had.

"Do I have to?" I asked of Ironhide as he, Chromia and I stood outside the building.

"Solarcharge, despite what he seems to think, is none of our commanding officer," Chromia said, glaring darkly at the door as she stood protectively between it and myself.

"But he is the one who knows what to do about Unicron," Ironhide said reasonably. "And he's not wrong about us needing to know how to work together for this."

I huffed. "If I am even going to be useful for this mission," I grumbled, wings flicking.

Ironhide reached over and rubbed my shoulder. "We all have your back."

I nodded, but it didn't make me feel better. I don't know what about me telling Solarcharge that I couldn't settle my mind cause I didn't feel safe meant bring our worst enemy after Unicron onto our base and put me in the same room as him. My mind was racing and my spark was filled with fear. And I knew the others couldn't be much more comfortable either.

"Well, standing out here isn't going to make him go away," Chromia said. "You ready?"

"No, but it would be way too long if we waited until I was," I replied dryly.

We entered the building and I immediately located the massive warlord where he sat crosslegged next to Optimus—who had the Star Saber strapped to his back instead of in subspace. I saw immediately the device around Megatron's wrist, but it didn't do anything to alleviate my fear of what he could do the moment he might think Optimus couldn't stop him.

"Ah, I wondered when you would make an appearance, dear Shadebreaker," Megatron said smoothly.

My tank churned and I felt like I was about to puke up all of this week's energon intake as I recalled the insinuation he'd made while I was a prisoner. "Don't ever fragging call me 'dear'." I said testily.

Megatron chuckled in amusement. "Just as spunky as ever, I see."

"Let me remind you, Megatron," Optimus said, shifting in a way that implied he might reach for the sword on his back. "You are only here on stipulation."

Megatron smirked. "Relax, brother," he said smoothly, holding a hand palm up. "We're all here to achieve the same goal, after all. I would never harm one of you until that goal is accomplished. We are at a temporary truce, after all."

I shifted my wings and stuck close to Ironhide as we joined the circle of bots. I sat between him and Drift as Solarcharge came in from another room.

"Ah, finally," my brother said. "We're all here."

"Twelve of us, anyways," Chromia said, annoyed. "You still haven't told us who this mysterious thirteenth is. Doesn't he need training as well?"

"He is receiving it from his parents," Solarcharge said as he sat on Megatron's other side from Optimus. "As I received training from my father."

"And the reason why they cannot do any training for any of the rest of us?" I asked, aiming my look at Megatron, clearly making a point that he could've been trained by them. Heck, why wasn't our father training me?

"They are…not easy bots to reach," Solarcharge replied.

I shot him an unconvinced look. So this mystery mech gets one on one training, but he can't even allow me peace to sort out my troubles with a mech who gets why I struggle while he focuses on the others? My wings and bits of feather kibble betrayed my irritation.

"Now, I believe we should begin this session by seeing where we each are," Solarcharge said. "I already know I have complete mastery over my Shard, but I need to know where you each are."

The next half hour was spent by Solarcharge calling on each of us to demonstrate what we could do. Nearly everyone could not only make their Shards float whichever direction they directed, but they could also compile their EM field's energy into them to build up power. Some of them that was as far as they got, but Optimus, Drift, Chromia and Sunstreaker were all able to release that energy in a pulse.

Megatron was the only one still on movement phase and even he was further along than I was.

I stared hard at my Shard after letting it drop back onto the floor.

"I see," Solarcharge said into the ensuing silence.

Part of me felt like this whole exercise had been one of humiliation. Hey, look, even Megatron is further after a mere two day's worth of training! Sure he's got a lifetime of EM manipulation under his belt, but what does that matter? He likely feels unsafe, too, right? Living everyday with the constant threat of betrayal at his back and now sitting in a room filled with his enemies!

I stood and then silently walked away, going to the other room lest I lash out at anyone who might address me while these thoughts and emotions were filling my processor and spark.

In the other room, I opened a cabinet, looking for something that I wasn't even sure what and then slammed it when nothing was there that felt like it was it. I placed one hand on the counter in front of me and my other over my face as I wrapped my wings around me.

"You are upset," Solarcharge's voice reached me.

"You don't say," I said testily.

"Why?"

"Why do you think, genius?" I snapped, turning on him and waving an arm. I waved at the other room. "Do you have any idea of who you have brought onto base? What that mech has done to me?"

"He will not hurt you while I am here, I will not let him," Solarcharge said.

"And how the pit am I supposed to trust you on that?" I asked with a growl, keeping my voice down enough it wouldn't carry to the other room. "When your response to 'I don't feel safe so my processor won't settle to let me focus' is to bring a mech who tortured me onto base and make me be in the same room as him? Oh, and then have him show off how much quicker he is at picking up controlling his Shard than me. Way to make me feel even more inadequate."

Solarcharge stared at me for a long moment and then he walked over to me and placed my Shard in my hands. He wrapped his hands around mine and was practically pressing me against the counter.

My wings shifted and I wanted to flee so much in that moment. I was a breathe away from panicking, in fact.

"You can do this, Shade'." He said. "We need you to do this."

"No you don't," I said, pushing him back and sighing with relief when he took a couple steps back. "You can handle my Shard. Cause at this rate you're gonna have to. If even fragging Megatron can do this while surrounded by his enemies, then what fragging hope do I even have?"

"But I can't, Shade'." Solarcharge told me. "I tried to move the Shard before coming in. I couldn't."

I stared at him.

"I swear, I'm not lying," Solarcharge said.

I looked past him at Ironhide and Chromia, who had appeared in the doorway when I was about to panic. They were narrowing their optics in suspicion.

"Slagging pit," I said.

"You can feel that way, but you cannot give up," Solarcharge said firmly.

I narrowed my optics at him behind my visor. Then I waved him away. "I'm not," I said. "Go on, I'll be back in shortly when I have calmed down. Go focus on the others."

"Very well," Solarcharge said.

As Solarcharge left the room, I signed to Ironhide asking if he could grab Optimus for me. He nodded and then moved back into the other room as well, as Chromia glowered at Solarcharge.

I crossed my arms and leaned against the counter as I waited for the Prime to join me. Chromia walked over to me and placed a hand supportively on my shoulder.

"I'm sorry your brother is turning out to be an afthole," she told me.

I signed that it wasn't her fault, but thanks anyways. My frame was starting to shake and if it weren't for me stubbornly holding the tears at bay, I would be crying.

"Too many feelings for verbal words, huh?" Chromia asked gently, rubbing my shoulder.

I nodded, grateful my endeavors to learn sign language to better communicate with Bumblebee were also benefiting myself.

Optimus came in then, frowning deeply as he approached.

"You want me to stay?" Chromia asked.

I shrugged and signed that it didn't really matter one way or the other.

Chromia nodded and then shifted in a way that made it clear she would stay as support.

"Shadebreaker," Optimus said. "I am sorry you have been distressed by recent events and put into this position. Had I known Megatron's presence here would affect you this greatly I would not have allowed a group session to include you both."

I signed that it was not his fault Solarcharge was pushy and did not manage his time well enough to train Megatron separate from the rest of us. I had believed I could handle it for the sake of the mission, but my struggles were making my stress build beyond my abilities to cope and then Solarcharge tried to manipulate me by lying straight to my face.

"He lied to you?" Optimus asked.

"He claimed he tried to move her Shard before he came to talk to her after she came in here to try to gather herself," Chromia explained for me as I huffed.

Optimus frowned. "I did not sense his EM field shift at all," he said.

"Neither did Ironhide or I sense it approach her Shard and we would've noticed it given our positions," Chromia confirmed.

I signed that he meant to make it clear that I absolutely had to master my Shard. I believe he meant to motivate me, believing perhaps that I was not already motivated. But I was motivated, which is why my failures were stressing me out so much that it was hurting my progress even more in a vicious cycle. And now he's brought Megatron, stressing me out further, and expecting me to train in the same room as him. And, on top of that, his manipulation attempt pisses me off and I want to call him out on it, but I do not know if it will help. And if it doesn't, I cannot work with him stress free. And the stress is not helping me master my Shard.

Optimus sighed, rubbing his nose bridge. "I see," he said. "What do you wish to do?"

I gusted air through my systems and then signed that I needed some space to calm down and then I needed to try to talk to Solarcharge again to see if maybe I could sort things out with him. If not, then maybe some other arrangements could be made for my training.

"What kind of other arrangements?" Optimus asked.

I signed that I would utilize my time-space portal to shenanigan myself more time to practice. Somewhere safe. Away from the reach of the war and Decepticons. Where I could master my Shard in peace so when I returned, it wouldn't matter how I felt about Solarcharge and Megatron's presence, I could do my task regardless.

Optimus frowned, looking thoughtful.

"Where would you go to do that?" Chromia asked. "And when would you come back?"

I signed that I had a few ideas and that I would return in plenty of time for the task at hand. Even in time to do the same for anyone who finds they need some extra time to master their own Shards. I could even return in just a few minutes from when I leave as far as they were consciously aware.

"I understand," Optimus said. "Perhaps it would be wise for you to take that route. Even if you smoothed things over with Solarcharge, there is still the matter of Megatron and I do not like him being in your vicinity either."

"None of us do," Chromia agreed. "None of us like him being here at all, but it would be one less thing to worry about if we didn't have to worry about him trying to drag you away with him after every training session."

I nodded my agreement. Worrying about it only at the time of dealing with Unicron would be ideal.

"I don't, however, like the idea of you going alone," Optimus frowned. "Drift has almost mastered his Shard and has offered his services as your bodyguard once officially inducted into the Autobots as is. I would like you to take him with you."

I bowed my helm in acceptance and signed that I would be willing to take him along no problem.

Optimus nodded. "I suggest you go gather supplies for your trip and stop by to see Ratchet before you go," he said. "I will inform the others and meet you with Drift after our session."

I signed that I would make rounds to say bye to everyone, just in case something goes wrong, though I doubted anything would. Where I was planning on going held nothing that should be a threat to Drift and I, but you never knew. Plus, while it would be a short time for them, it could be a long time for me.

"I understand," Optimus said. "I will comm you when we are ready."

I nodded in understanding.

"We'll keep Solarcharge focused on our training so he doesn't come try to talk you out of it," Chromia said.

I thanked her and gave them both a hug before slipping out the back door, leaving them to explain to the others why I wasn't rejoining the session.

"Ratchet?" I asked, peeking into the medic lounge some time later after having said bye to everyone else and stocking up on supplies I would need to at least get started.

Ratchet looked up from reading some datapads where he sat on the couch and then waved me over, placing the datapads down.

I walked over and sat next to him, snuggling close as he instinctively wrapped his arms around me and kissed my helm.

"Why are you so sad?" He asked softly.

I hesitated, unsure how to broach the subject with him. "You know how much I've been struggling with my Shard?" I asked.

Ratchet nodded, tightening his hold on me.

"Solarcharge had the bright idea to bring Megatron on base for his lessons," I said.

"I heard," Ratchet said with a sigh.

"He tried to get me to train in a room with him today in a session with everyone," I continued. "But I couldn't handle it. I might've, but the frustration over my struggles and watching Megatron make more progress than me in less time while surrounded by his enemies just…pushed me over the edge a bit. I had to walk out of the room to collect my emotions."

"I'm sorry," Ratchet said softly, rubbing my arm gently.

"And then Solarcharge tried to manipulate me by lying to me about trying to move my Shard and failing, but the others said they didn't sense his EM field shift to do that at all," I explained.

An angry rev came from Ratchet's chassis and I ducked my helm. "That mech," he growled. "That's not the first lie he's been caught in."

"No?" I asked. I'd only had suspicions so far, no solid proof on anything. Besides the whole claiming not to be sneaking when he obviously was thing.

"He told me he'd already told Megatron how to control his Shard," Ratchet said. "And then, when he was bargaining with Prowl and Optimus he claimed to have not started with Megatron at all."

I sighed heavily, shaking my helm. "Why do liars always think they won't be caught?" I wondered, remembering my old friend and how she'd acted like she would never be found out and even tried to gaslight me about her lying once or twice.

"Your guess is as good as mine," Ratchet said dryly. "But if he thinks he will be welcomed here after this Unicron business is over, he will have to clean up his act."

"Indeed," I agreed. "Even if he stuck around, he is not making friends."

"He spends way too much time trying to stalk you," Ratchet agreed.

"Hmm," I hummed, thinking of all the times he'd crashed my practice sessions that were supposed to be Solarcharge-free. "Agreed."

"How'd the session go after that?" Ratchet asked.

"I wouldn't know, I left," I said, shifting a bit as the topic moved toward the part I wasn't sure how to tell him. "Optimus and I agree it is not conducive to my ability to complete my mastery of my Shard to train within the vicinity of Megatron and Solarcharge."

"Hmm," Ratchet hummed. "While I agree with that, I am wondering why you seem so hesitant to tell me."

"We came up with a plan for me to use my time-space portals to shenanigan myself more time to practice," I told him quietly. "I'm leaving base. For you it may be for very little time, but for me it could be a long time. But it may be the only way I master my Shard. I don't think I can accomplish it with Solarcharge hovering over me, with Megatron nearby as a constant threat and time looming over me like a bomb about to go off."

"Aww, Shade'," Ratchet said, stroking my cheek as my frame shook a little in stress and fear.

"I plan to come back not long after the point I depart and Drift is coming with me so I won't be entirely alone," I said. "But…I'm going to miss you… a lot." I felt tears roll down my cheeks as I told my visor to snap back to reveal my optics. I looked at Ratchet. "We should be safe where we're going, but just in case something happens…I want you to know I love you very much, ok?"

"I know, Shade'," Ratchet said softly. "Are you sure you do not wish me to come along?"

"Of course I want you to," I said, taking his hand and pressing my cheek into his palm. "But you need to stay here. Just in case. The team needs you. You're their only medic."

"Wheeljack could take over," Ratchet corrected.

I laughed lightly. "I- Well.. I forget that sometimes," I said. "He is usually holed up in the labs. Is he available to take over medic duties, though? He and Perceptor have been working on that device…"

"I received word this morning that they finished it," Ratchet said. "I mean, it's in the final testing stages, but Wheeljack can handle any medic duties that come up while we're away. Like you said, for them it won't be long. You might need a medic yourself. Plus, the war is in a truce while we deal with Unicron. Megatron and Solarcharge wouldn't dare compromise the mission in the meantime."

"Hmm, it should be safe," I said, knowing the whole just-in-case thing was my over caution. "And with three of us, the odds of survival can only increase."

"Where do you plan to go, anyways?" Ratchet asked.

"You remember that moon? Where the AllSpark might have been?" I asked. "The one that seemed untouched by the war? I plan to go there, to one of the remote, uncivilized locations. To a timeframe before Shockwave could've learned about it from me, just in case, just to be over cautious. Where no one can bother us. Drift and I can focus on our Shards and combat training. You can…take a vacation, I guess. It won't be very thrilling for you."

Ratchet chuckled. "As long as I'm with you, MyFem, it will be thrilling enough," he said, a slight purr in his voice that sent warmth through my frame when accompanied by the affection he sent across our bond and the brushing of his thumb over my cheek.

"I mean," I said, trying to come up with a flirty response. I blinked, cooling fans kicking on as my processor came up with scenarios but not words. "Uh."

It didn't help that we weren't at that stage yet, so my literal processor could not always come up with teases and then also let me speak them. I coughed a bit, looking flushed.

Ratchet chuckled. "You're adorable," he said, leaning forward and nuzzling my face with his.

I chuckled in return and nuzzled him back before closing the distance and kissing him.

He made a pleased noise and returned the kiss, moving his hand to hold my helm in place as he deepened the kiss passionately. "I definitely would not mind taking a vacation with you," he said, voice a little husky.

My systems gave a purr of appreciation. "Yeah?"

Ratchet kissed me again before pulling back. "I'll comm Optimus to get permission if you wouldn't mind adding to your supplies."

"So convinced he'll grant it," I said, amused. I couldn't help the large grin on my face, though.

Ratchet grinned back at me. "It's not like they will know if we take a little extra time," he said.

"Oh, you are planning to be a distraction, are you?" I asked, placing a hand on my hip in mock disappointment.

"What if I am?" Ratchet asked.

"You remember Drift will be with us, right?" I asked, optics sparkling.

"Ah, right," Ratchet said. "Well, we can always ask if he wants to join."

"Pffft," I shook my helm. "Ah, no. I'm not into it."

Ratchet shrugged. "Neither am I, really," he said, looking highly amused at the slightly disturbed and uncertain look I was giving him. "Just wanted to see how you would react."

"Someone's feeling bold with the teases today," I said, amused now that he made it clear he was messing with me.

Ratchet chuckled. "I will try not to be too big of a distraction," he promised. "But I do expect we will get some good time together given we won't have several bots competing for your time."