Orn is Two Weeks.
Vorn is roughly Eighty-Three years.
Bumblebee rolled into the Autobot hanger on Diego Garcia, practically trembling with excitement. His doors popped open and his two human charges climbed out before stepping back and giving the scout enough room to transform.
He bounced on his pedes, watching with wide-blue optics as Sam and Mikaela strode away to visit their military friends here on base. Major Lennox waved as he escorted to two teens.
Bee looked around, noting where Ironhide was practising with his cannons and where Ratchet was having a loud conversation with Jolt. His door-wings twitched, bringing the locations of the Autobots on base, as well as several of the humans.
Bumblebee trotted out of the hanger and headed towards the rec room, excitement making his door-wings flutter a mile a minute.
He'd heard of the thirteen bots to arrive; Ultra Magnus, Bluestreak, Blurr, Wheeljack, Prowl, Sunstreaker, Leadfoot, Topspin, Roadbuster, Bulkhead, Moonracer, Flare-up, and a femme he'd never met, Nightraid.
Bee liked to meet new bots, and people, so he was particularly interested in meeting Nightraid.
The yellow scout paused before the door and gulped in an intake of air, a habit he'd picked up from Sam. The Camaro stepped in, looking around with wide optics.
He'd never seen the rec room so busy.
"Are you guarding the door for a reason?" A femme asked behind him. Bee's jumped slightly, and flushed, turning.
"Sorry..." He muttered, using a particularly British radio clip.
"Hey! It's Bee!" Bluestreak grinned as Moonracer strode past, shaking her head. "Hiya, Bee! How are you!? I haven't seen you since I switched ships on Gamma-Twenty! How are you? Has Ratchet fixed your voice box yet? Can you talk? Not that I mind if you don't! I heard how you use radio clips! I think it's really cool! I wonder if I could do that too? I heard you have human-"
Bumblebee clapped a servo over his friend's mouth, though Bluestreak continued to mumble.
"Hiya!" Bee shook his head and removed his servo. "How are you, pardner?"
"The Xanthium is really boring!" Blue chirped, and he paused tilting his head. "Hatchet wants me for a check-up. See ya later, Bumblebee!"
Bumblebee waved and made his way into the rec room.
"Hey! Hey! Bumblebee! Come meet my twin!" Sideswipe yelled, waving his arms as he rocked back and forth on his wheels. Bumblebee trotted over, smiling.
"Bumblebee, this is Sunstreaker! Sunny, this is Bee!" Sideswipe grinned, crossing his arms to point at each mech with the opposite hand.
"Don't ever call me Sunny." The gold mech warned. Bumblebee nodded, and he turned as the twins focused on the rec room door.
"Hey! Nightraid! Come here! Bumblebee arrived!"
The tiny dark purple femme in the doorway raised an optic-ridge but strode over like she owned the place.
He smiled, tilting his head in the way he'd seen puppies do in the Earth videos Sam watched. She regarded him with bored optics before shrugging and looking to the twins. Bumblebee drooped. He'd totally just been ignored.
He was cute, dammit! So why did she turn to the vain and overly cocky twins?
"Have either of you seen Ratchet or Prowl?" She crossed her arms, tilting her head back to look at them.
"Why do you need them when you have us?" Sunstreaker grinned. Nightraid shook her head.
"I need to see Ratchet for my scheduled check-up, and I need to discuss things with Prowl. When I'm done being responsible," The dark purple femme prodded Sides' chassis. She was nearly a two feet smaller than him, so she had to look up to Bee, Sides and Sunny. However, of all the femmes, she was the largest.
"Maybe I'll come play with you."
The twins shared grins and they shooed her off.
"She's great!" Sunny purred.
"In berth, you mean?" Sides snickered, gliding out of the rec room with his brother on his heels.
Bumblebee stared after them, lost for words and shocked.
Had he really just been ignored completely!?
"-died in Mission City." Ratchet ground out. Nightraid paused by the Med-bay door, pedes silent against the ground. "My belief is that she was in emergency stasis at the time. That would be, along with distance, why she didn't feel it."
"How long should we keep it from her?" That was Optimus.
"Knowing Nightraid," Prowl spoke up, although what he was doing in the Med-Bay was beyond the femme. Poor Prowl was terrified of needles. "She will find out that Jazz is missing, soon."
"Yes." Nightraid decided it was a good time to step into the Bay. She startled the Prime and the medic, though Prowl didn't so much as flinch. "Where is my twin?"
"Ratchet, I believe this is in your capable servos." Optimus gave a quick smile and strode as fast as his long legs could carry him out of the Med-Bay. "Prowl, I will need your assistance."
"Good cycle, Ratchet." Prowl nodded, but sped out equally as quick.
"Ratchet, what is going on?" Nightraid growled, crossing her arms and glaring up at the medic. Even though she was a good bit shorter than himself, Ratchet flinched. An angry Nightraid was never a good thing, and with what he was about to tell her...Oh, Primus.
"Nightraid, I would strongly suggest you sit down." Ratchet frowned down at her, pointing to one of the medical berths. "Medic's orders."
"When have Ah eva' listen'd ta the medic?"
Ratchet cringed. Nightraid only ever talked like that when she was pissed off or feeling a certain emotion heavily, the complete opposite of her twin. Jazz's speech had always cleared up when he was serious.
Ratchet lifted an optic ridge and hauled her onto the berth, where she sat pouting.
The medic sighed, pulling his desk chair over to face her. He laced his fingers together and regarded her with a serious look.
How was he supposed to tell her that her twin was dead?
"Ah'm watin', Ratch." Nightraid's optics narrowed as she crossed her arms.
"I am not Prowl." Ratchet finally grumbled. "There isn't a logical way to say this. Nightraid, Jazz is dead."
Nightraid snorted. "No, he ain't."
"Listen to me." The bright yellow Hummer snapped. "Were you in emergency stasis anytime in the last ten orns?"
"Yeah. Ah was hit awful bad in a battle on Zeta-Pi-Nine. Wheeljack had ta patch me up, so Ah was in stasis a long time. Why?"
"Jazz died in Mission City, protecting the Allspark and buying us time, about four orns ago. While you were in emergency stasis, and had a large amount of distance between you."
"Ah don' believe ya, Ratchet."
"Can you feel him through your bond?"
Nightraid paused, optics dimming until they flashed a deep purple.
"Yes."
"What?"
"Where is he, Ratchet?!" Nightraid's accent vanished as she growled.
"But Jazz is-"
"Click buzz whirr grind frag."
Ratchet paled. "You mean all this time-?!"
"All this time what, Ratchet?" Nightraid cracked her finger joints. The medic bolted out the Med-Bay door, lights flashing.
Nightraid slid off the berth and followed at a lazy saunter. Wheeljack who was in the hall, giving the corridor Ratchet had vanished down a weird look, took one look at the femme and vanished into his berth room.
Moments later there was a message on the public communication link.
::Wheeljack to Autobots. Avoid talking to Ratchet and stay out of Nightraid's way if you value your life.::
Jazz's optics were dark, offlined to save his energy. His systems were on low, his cooling fans broken, and he couldn't move his lower half.
The saboteur blamed Ratchet for that one. He'd only done a patch job, and the medic believed he was offline.
Everyone assumed that Ironhide had scanned his comrade for signs of life, only to get none. However, Jazz couldn't talk, he couldn't see, he couldn't move, and his comm link was so heavily damaged that he wondered if it would ever work again.
Jazz was a stubborn little slagger, and Primus dammit, he was going to hold on with both his servos and not let go.
Besides, he had to see his twin again.
How long had it been since he'd seen her? Vorns maybe? However long it was, Jazz didn't care so long as he got to see Nightraid before he died.
If he died.
Would he die?
No.
Hold on with two servos, Jazz-mech. And don't let go.
Hold on a moment. Who was this who entered the room?
Ah, Ratchet was paying him a visit. About time the old fragger did. Maybe he'd see that Ironhide was wrong.
Ratchet, oi! Ah'm still alive here.
But Jazz couldn't talk.
"Alive. How could he...? That's not possible. Damn your stubbornness, Jazz!"
"Don't you damn him."
"Gah! Nightraid!"
Nightraid was here? Jazz wanted to grin.
"Is he smiling?" Ratchet frowned, and Jazz sensed -barely- that someone was hovering above him. The silver bot twitched a finger, and felt for the sparkbond he had with his sister.
/Heya, Night./
/What the frag did you do, idiot? I come down from space and find you like this?! I thought I told you to take care of yourself!/
/Ah did!/
/Then explain why you look like you were ripped in half. /
/Ah was./
/Who did it!? I'ma gonna rip that fragger apart!/
/Too late. Prime killed 'im. /
/Who did it?/
/Megatron/
/What were you going after Megatron for!?/
/To buy time. Tell Ratchet to stop doing whatever it is that he's doing. It hurts.../
"Ratchet, stop. You're hurting him."
"He's talking to you!?"
"He's weak, but he's still alive, and Jazz."
/Damn right!/
There was silence from the other end of the bond and Jazz was aware of the faint tingling of a medical scan.
/Jazz, did you know you're three inches shorter?/
The wail was both external and internal, but was only so loud as a moan from his mouth. The bond however, made Nightraid clamp her servos over her audio receptors.
"What is it!?" Ratchet was hovering again. "Is he in pain!?"
"No. I told him he was three inches shorter."
"Well, that's what happens when you get ripped in half and have to get your abdominal plating overlapping." Ratchet snorted.