Still no reviews, but that's okay. Not much to say yet, other than I NEVER update this quickly, but oh well, they're usually longer. I'm borrowing Karategal's chart of times. Check out her stories! Here's more!

Breem - 8.3 Earth minutes

Joor - About 6.5 Earth hours

Orn - About 13 Earth day

Vorn - About 83 Earth years

:: blah ::- gestalt link

Disclaimer: I do not own Transformers or any of its characters. I do own Blitz, the gestalt, Lightfire, and anyone else that's not canon. Lyrics to "All Nightmare Long" belong to Metallica.

"Hunt you down without mercy
Hunt you down all nightmare long"

~ "All Nightmare Long" - Metallica

Shadows...dark...they always kept them in the dark, away from everyone, no sound, no sound but the terrible hissing and gurgling of the machines around them...

"Blitz."

...No, new sound...the steps, the STEPS! There were coming, coming again, bright light, bright light, too bright brightbrightbright! Light was bad, very bad, light meant loud sounds, too loud for tiny sensitive audios, light meant screaming, light meant pain...

"Blitz."

...Whimpering next to him, the littlest sparkling there, hands were reaching for him. No no no! He was too young, too young, they all were. Laughing, bad laughing, scary, laughing meant hurt, hurt was bad. He couldn't help himself; he let out a soft whine of fear. Bad hands reaching for him, reaching reaching grabbing squeezing pain pain pain...

"Bli-itz."

...No sounds, can't make sounds, sound means pain, pain is bad, very very bad. Don't cry, don't cry loud voices don't like crying, crying is a sound and sounds are pain...

"Blitz!"

...Laughing more laughing voices speaking speaking to him, don't speak back! Speaking is pain. Voice still talking have to listen, listen and pain is less, less pain when he listens. "You little slagger. You think you can get out of here? You're here, forever. You're ours, and we'll do with you what we'd like, and we make the rules here, one of them being that you." Squeezes hard hurts "Must" Harder pain fear tears no no tears tears bad tears mean crying crying means pain! "Be" Hurts so bad, so bad, bigger sparkling trying to help him, no, don't try to help! He'll get hurt, too, not allowed to help helping means pain. "QUIET!" Can't breathe can't think hurts so bad so bad can't see everything's blurry sound getting quiet, quiet, face gets hit, bad bad no falling offline when loud voices are there they don't like it. Face hit again, hurts more, keep the tears back, no tears, everything hurts hurts hurts pain so bad. Hit a wall, back with other sparklings in the dark, dark is safe, dark means pain goes away, steps leave, now they're alone, alone is good. Comfort snuggling other sparklings are here they make things better, better, getting sleepy okay to recharge when voices are gone...gone...gone...

He woke to a heavy weight on his chassis, thankfully kept off of his cockpit enough so that it wasn't painful, though it was annoying as all get out. Onlining his optics slowly, he looked through the dark one-way visor of his full-face mask at the smiling face above him, happy blue optics peering at him.

For once those optics weren't obscured by the usual gray visor that partially obscured most of his face, enough so to hide the jagged scar that bisected it. Then again, Crash only wore his visor in public, never when it was just the four of them, which they referred to as their "family". Crash's relationship with his visor was very different than the one between his mask and himself, i.e., he never took his mask off. Ever, end of story. Not in his quarters, not in recharge, never. It was something that only his family understood.

Not that they were actually family. He remembered his original family, vaguely enough that sometimes he thought that he'd dreamt them. Crash and 'Shade, both being a little older than him, remembered their families better, but only slightly. Sly didn't remember his at all.

"C'mon, Blitzy, rise and shine, let's see those happy optics, aye?" Crash was insufferable in the mornings, always so peppy. Blitz was not a morning person at all, and he verbalized it across their link.

:: I hate you. :: He sent.

:: Awe, c'mon, ya know ya love me. :: Was the reply.

:: No, I hate you, I really, really do, with my entire spark. ::

:: No, you don't, 'cause we are Best Friends Forever And Ever And Ever, more quickly referred to as BFFAEAEs. ::

Blitz's only reply was to grunt across the link before forcefully bucking his roommate and best friend off of himself and his berth. He sat up slowly, hearing his armor pop as he stretched, removing kinks that he'd acquired during his tense, fretful recharge.

The seeker was used to this by now; he'd been afflicted by horrible nightmares for as long as his memory chips could recall. It was just another thing about him that his gestaltmates understood- then again, they should understand it, considering they were there, and the dreams were more memory than dream. None of the others had night terrors like this, but then again, it was just part of his psychosis, part of him. He was used to it.

:: Was it the dream again? :: Blitz knew he was only asking for the effect and to be polite; Crash as well as the others could just peek into his processor and see everything he'd seen in that dream, but they didn't really need to, as they'd seen it all before. They'd lived it.

:: What else would it be? :: He replied with a rueful smile. No one could see it behind his mask, but his family could feel it through their link. Yet another thing that set them apart from "the rest".

Blitz had the ultimate "us and them" mindset. When he met people, his processor automatically set them into one of those two categories- "them" was a lot more populated than "us", considering "us" only consisted of the gestalt. But why did he need anyone else? He didn't communicate with anyone outside of his gestalt, literally.

Blitz hadn't spoken aloud or made any other sound that required the use of his voice capacitor in so many vorns that most mechs (okay, everyone who was a part of "them") thought that he couldn't speak. He could, he just didn't see why it was necessary. He didn't need to communicate with anyone outside of his gestalt, and he could talk to them over their link, so speaking verbally was deemed unnecessary. His gestalt understood his reasons, and they didn't push him to speak, so he appreciated that.

What he didn't appreciate was Crash's insistence that even if he didn't speak, he could still socialize. The only problems with that were the facts that 1) speech was usually needed to socialize and 2) Blitz didn't want to socialize. When he stated this fact, Crash just blamed his anti-social personality on his psychosis, which made sense, considering he'd been diagnosed as sometimes depressed, with slight sociopathic and manic depressive tendencies. But as a glitch among glitches, he was normal AND sane. Quite the combination, considering their location.

That location would be an Autobot base consisting namely of glitches, with a minority of troublemakers and mechs that had driven all of their commanding officers so insane that they needed somewhere to stash them where they couldn't do much harm. What better place than a base of freaks and weirdoes? The only admission price was having either mediocre skills or something clinically wrong with you, whether it was a glitch or a traumatic experience that affected your behavior.

The gestalt was no different when it came to being glitchy, and not just Blitz. Crash was hyperactive and a compulsive liar, though he was truthful with the gestalt, but then again, lying to people who can see into your CPU is kind of futile. He was also a field medic, perhaps not the best occupation for someone in his situation, but he was the best that the base had. That wasn't much of a compliment, considering that he was the only mech on base that was deemed "sane" and "stable" enough to be a medic. He was the only one they had, so that made him the best on the base by default.

Slysight was the youngest of the gestalt, and apparently being a tad bit naive came with the territory, but even that didn't stop him from being a formidable opponent. Sly had a glitch that caused him to have a slew of phobias, as well as trust and abandonment issues, with paranoia as the cherry on top of his psychological sundae. The upside was that many mechs thought he should be a shoe-in for Special Ops: he could move silently and hear others do the same, he could catch projectiles being thrown at his back with no warning, he was a walking lie detector, downright scary when interrogating, and at one point, he was able to accurately calculate how many mechs were in the hallways of the base and their status just by stretching out his sensor net. Most had been walking, some sitting, one particular couple participating in what he would only describe as "inappropriate behaviors for a corridor", and one was on the ceiling, which wasn't an odd place to be, given their amount of idiotic pranksters. One would think that with his record he'd have been admitted into Special Ops long ago, and he had been considered by multiple teams and bases, but once they discovered his glitch, he was immediately thrown into the reject pile. No one wanted a disgraceful glitch in their midst.

Nightshade, the gestalt leader and their oldest, appeared sane to an outsider, to the point where many thought that he was the rest of the gestalt's "handler", to keep them from going after somebody, presumably. The only problem with that theory was that Night was just as messed up as the rest of them, he just had more of a clear processor and better planning skills. Nightshade had two personalities: himself and Phantom. Phantom was similar to 'Shade, to the point that he could sometimes surface without any of "them" realizing it. Most times, though, Phantom was sarcastic and cynical and brash where 'Shade most certainly was not. The two consciousnesses were aware of each other and could communicate with each other at any given moment (thus giving the gestalt access to Phantom even when he was subdued, making him a pseudo-gestaltmate), but they could not control when Phantom would surface. They only knew that he appeared more often during times of battle or when Night was angry (which meant that Phantom probably was, too). All in all, the gestalt was a walking pysch ward and a psychologist's dream challenge.

A black servo was waved in Blitz's face. "Hello?" the silver mech in front of him asked. "Anybody there? You totally zoned out on me, mech." Blitz shook his head, trying to clear his processor. An announcement came on over the intercom system.

"Listen up, all of you fraggers." It was the base's commander, Lightfire. He was obviously named for his cheery personality. Unlike Blitz, he was like this all orn long, all the time. "We have some important mechs coming for a visit! And I mean IMPORTANT! That means no pranks, no backtalk, no inappropriate conduct INCLUDING what's currently going on in the hallway in front of storeroom A-7- yes I DO know what you're doing and I CAN see you- but most of all, no insults or cursing! Do you understand me, you pack of pit-spawned overgrown-sparkling slaggers?!" Not only did the commander find it necessary to emphasize all of his speech through shouting (and shouting louder to highlight key words), but he also obviously didn't practice what he preached.

"I expect everyone to be assembled in a NEAT AND ORDERLY FASHION at the main gate in EXACTLY ONE BREEM! If you are not there, I will make your pathetic lives even more miserable than they already are, you no-good excuses for slag! Everyone must be accounted for and on their best behavior and looking their best, or as good as you dumbafts CAN look! I don't care what you're doing, but be down at the main gate in a breem!" He paused for a moment, and then added before ending the announcement, "That one breem started back when I said EXACTLY ONE BREEM, so MOVE, you idiotic mediocre useless heaps of scrap!"

Sighing loudly, Crash grabbed Blitz's arm and began to lead him down the hallway at a swift pace; they were on the opposite side of the base from the main gate, and they had a long way to go. Forcefully pulling Blitz wouldn't have been necessary if it weren't for the fact that Blitz liked to annoy Lightfire, and walking extra slow just so he could be late would be one of his favorite things to do. In fact, he'd just been thinking of doing it once he'd heard the announcement.

Blitz had the curious ability to get under Lightfire's plating like no one else could. He loved to test his authority (and often ended up "winning" when trying to get his way) and insisted on breaking rules by the bulk and often. The reason he irked Lightfire so much probably had to do with the fact that he, like with the rest of "them", had never been spoken to by Blitz, so arguing with and yelling at him was like shouting at a wall. No, the wall gave more of a reaction. Blitz would stand completely still, of course silent, and he didn't show any emotion through his face plates either, even under his constant mask.

After racing across the structure, the pair reached the main gate. On their way they were joined by their other two gestaltmates. Slysight was a light gray mech, with orange on his helm and forearms and black servos. Nightshade was a glossy black, much like Blitz, the only differences being that Blitz, as a seeker, was the only flier, Nightshade was the tallest and Blitz was short even for a seeker (though not as short as Sly), and Blitz had electric blue lines of paint covering his body, stylized to look like a web of cracks. It was original, to say the least.

:: Anyone know what this is all about? :: Crash asked.

:: Nothing other than what you know; apparently someone "IMPORTANT" is coming. Whoever it is, Lightfire thinks they're a big deal. :: 'Shade told them.

:: Frag Lightfire! :: Blitz commented.

:: Hey, watch the language! :: Night scolded him. This was a comment he made often, as Blitz, for as quiet as he was, had quite a mouthy streak.

The commander then appeared, a gruff, angry looking mech painted in a dull green shade. He wasn't as threatening as he appeared; he was more of a blowhard. They fell into line, everyone standing at attention after one last glare from Lightfire. A ship was landing, a really, really big ship. The largest anyone had seen.

It landed and its crew unloaded. It was, to say the least, big. Huge, really. A tall, imposing mech decked out in red and blue stepped forward. Mechs gasped as they recognized him, and for once, 'Shade didn't chastise anyone when Sly sent the thought, ::Slag. :: They were too busy agreeing.

Optimus Prime, the leader of the Autobots. He was here. At the glitch base. Which meant that this giant ship was the Ark, and all of these mechs were its crew.

"I am Optimus Prime," he introduced himself.

:: No slag, really?! :: Phantom finally spoke up. Nightshade shushed him.

"Welcome sir, we are so excited to see you here!" Lightfire gushed. Everyone rolled their optics in a synchronized fashion. "May I ask what, exactly, brought you here?"

"We shall be staying for an orn to recharge and restock our supplies, but the reason we stopped here is to add a few members of your base to our crew." Shock echoed across the room, and more than one mech scoffed audibly. Lightfire voiced this thought.

"Um, sir? Why would you want a member of my base? I mean, they are, excuse my language, glitches." A red and white mech from the Ark's crew hissed at this language.

"Because we're looking for a specific group of mechs. We have heard that you have a gestalt here?"

"Them!?" the commander shrieked. Seeing the prime's look, he muttered, "Over there." He pointed at the gestalt.

"Um, hi?" Sly asked more than greeted.

"Well ain't this as fragged up as all Pit?" Crash laughed. To put it lightly, it didn't help anything.

I got the idea for a base of screw-ups and glitches from outerelf's awesome story Welcome to the Ark. Check it out, and please review!