Title:Crack in the Mirror 2/18
Continuity: G1 (part of ultharkitty's Dysfunction AU)
Rating: R (whole fic, this chapter PG)
Disclaimer: Sadly, I own nothing.
Beta: ultharkitty

This Chapter
Warnings: crack, comedy, some light angst
Characters: Blast Off, Vortex, Onslaught
Summary: Blast Off learns how to fly. Vortex is there, too. Onslaught is amused.


The next morning, Blast Off felt like a turtle.

Not that he thought about an animal, or even compared himself to an organic, but if he'd done so, he would have thought he felt like a turtle.

Waking up, lying on his back, his joints were still sore, but at least they ached less than the day before. With an annoyed groan, he wanted to get up, and found himself not being able to roll over.

His optics flickered, processor still not booted up completely, and he glanced next to him at the berth. The huff, vented by unfamiliar small vents, was full of disappointment when the memories came back.

Right, Blast Off mused. He'd fallen into a pond.

Rubbing his hand over his optics and face plates reminded him that he also lacked his battle mask. This probably had a lower priority to Onslaught than getting him armed up, but he would have to talk to their gestalt leader.

With another huff, Blast Off sat up. He looked over his shoulder at the rotor blade sticking out, and glared. He had the sudden urge to rip them all out, they were so inconvenient and uncomfortable. Last night, it had taken Blast Off over two breems to get comfortable on his back. Of course, he could have lain on his front, but he didn't like that, and he knew from Vortex that the rotor hub could snap flush onto the back.

Not being used to anything of this new frame, Blast Off had needed what he thought were ages to find the right command. He'd tried a lot from 'initiate lying position' to 'let the damn rotor hub snap back before I break my back struts'. In the end, it'd been 'retract rotor hub' - well, that was just too easy - and his back had landed on the berth with a clang, the shock of the unexpected landing reverberating through him.

In his old frame, Blast Off never had to initiate anything manually, not that he could remember. Everything had just come to him, and sort of just happened when he wanted to. It was more than a little unnerving that it wasn't like this with his temporary rotary frame. And now he'd need to find the right command to get the rotor hub back out. As much as it increased the comfort while lying on it - which was still more uncomfortable than just having ceramic plates on his back - it was a little itchy when Blast Off sat up.

- Extend rotor hub

It was the first thing his processor sent to subordinate systems and, surprisingly enough, it worked. The hub snapped back out, rotors wobbling from the sudden movement and then quivering for a while.

No, Blast Off really didn't like this new frame, and he'd refuse to get used to it.

An alarm popped up in his HUD. 0845 Earth time. In about 15 kliks he'd have to get out and do exactly what he didn't want to. Transforming, flying, and if this wasn't bad enough, there would be Vortex of all mechs watching him.

Already in a bad mood, knowing that this day wouldn't improve his mind at all, he stood up; the tips of the two lower rotor blades scratched over the berth while he did so, and he frowned. Great, did he have to be careful even while standing up? This wasn't funny any more.

Blast Off shoved the shelf away from the door which he'd used to block it as a matter of prudence in case Vortex tried to sneak into his room. The shelf seemed heavier than usual, but Blast Off forced himself not to think about it. He unlocked to door, and stepped out, only to almost run into Vortex.

Think of the devil and the devil shows up, Blast Off mused. Vortex jumped back a little, probably in surprise. An astrosecond later, he came closer again.

"Heh, just wanted to pay you a visit," the 'copter said, visor lighting up.

"You don't say..." Blast Off muttered, and pushed the button. The door shut, and locked.

"Awww, so grumpy already? We still have time before training."

"Time for what?" Did he really want to know? Blast Off doubted it; he slid away from between his door and Vortex, and started to walk to the base's exit.

"Well~" Vortex began, prolonging the word in a way he should have known would make Blast Off furious. The black rotors began trembling, and just in time Blast Off turned, seeing Vortex reaching out.

"Don't you dare!"

"C'mon, some tactile pleasure will brighten your mood. I promise."

Blast Off just continued walking. They had to start the training in about six kliks anyway, and Onslaught would get fragged off when they began later.

Behind him, Blast Off heard Vortex mumbling something, but he neither listened, nor cared.


They stepped out onto the heliport. The Sun burnt, and Blast Off's black plating heated instantly. He especially sensed it on his rotors, on his back, and that was something so different from the usual sensation of heat on his insulated circuitry.

It was the opposite to what he was used to, and completely against Blast Off's shuttle core programming.

With a deep vent of air, he forced the uncomfortable sensation not to take over, and turned to Vortex.

The 'copter stood there, battle mask hiding his face, rotors not quivering. He was still angry about being turned down.

"You wanna transform, or what?" Vortex asked, and crossed his arms.

Yes, still fragged because of the lack of interfacing.

What was about to come was another reason for Blast Off to be uncomfortable. Transforming for the first time with an unfamiliar frame and transformation sequence, with Vortex watching. The former shuttle definitely knew more entertaining things than that...

"I want you to be turned into a shuttle and then we're talking," Blast Off muttered, not caring if Vortex had heard or not.

The transformation sequence was something else Blast Off had to initiate manually. He'd spent a few astroseconds just thinking about it, like he'd used to. Expecting to change, but nothing happened. Fortunately, it didn't take him as long as the evening before to figure out just which commend he had to give. When the alternation started, it still took him by surprise.

Parts moved, folded back together to something else and formed a shape he couldn't see. That was the first difference Blast Off noticed. He didn't have on-board cameras, nor could he see what was behind him. His optical sensors only provided him the image of what was in front, and a bit of what happened next to him, but that was it.

The first thing he saw was Vortex coming closer. But that didn't matter right now.

Blast Off wiggled a little in alt-mode, rotor blades twitching. Something else was off. A sensation he couldn't explain, like something was missing.

He quickly came to the conclusion that he didn't like his new transformation sequence.

Under his skids, he sensed the asphalt - it was warm from the Sun as well - and how the weight of his alt-mode pressed onto them. They still could hold it, but it was odd. Blast Off needed to remind himself that he wasn't a shuttle any more - not for the moment at least - and that these small landing devices were enough for the form he had now.

"Hehe, nice," Vortex said, with that suggestive undertone of his, and dragged Blast Off out of his thoughts.

"What?" Blast Off asked, annoyed, rotors trembling. He couldn't see himself. He had no idea how he looked. Where which section of plating was, which colours they had; except for the rotor blades and the landing skids, which were all black...

He didn't even know the model of his alt-mode.

Vortex didn't answer Blast Off's question, and the former shuttle was quite glad for that. "So, you're gonna start your rotors? Let's start with the basics."

Blast Off had the sinking feeling that this wouldn't work like usual, either. Much smaller alt-mode vents heaved air in a sigh. "How do I do this?"

"Eh? Just, you know, like always. Start your engine and stuff."

Well, that was really helpful if he had no idea what command to give. Blast Off just thought of lifting off and flying, but as expected, nothing happened. Wiggling uncomfortable again, he started to be slightly disconcerted.

Eventually, he pulled himself together, and articulated a command.

- Initiate take off

It didn't have the desired effect. Instead joints, gears, bolts tensed and Blast Off's vision went blue. A list of warnings and error messages scrolled down, informing him that there was no response from his thrusters, that the sensor net on them was disabled for unknown reasons and the fuel lines were apparently clipped off.

The mass of errors didn't hurt, but for an astrosecond, Blast Off's CPU was overwhelmed, having a hard time to process everything.

It took almost a klik before the visual returned, giving him the data of Vortex staring at him.

"Okay, that didn't work," Blast Off muttered, the distress in his voice unintentionally clear. "What command do you give when you take off?"

The red visor flickered once, then Vortex tilted his head. "What do you mean? What didn't work?"

This was frustrating. "I can't just... activate my rotors. I don't know. I have to give manual commands, and what I just gave was certainly wrong."

"Oh. Okay... That kinda sucks."

Blast Off huffed, ignoring the human idiom which Vortex most likely knew from Brawl. "I would appreciate it if you at least tried to be more helpful than that. I do know that this is not very convenient."

"Testy, aren't we?"

An engine growl. "Vortex."

"Yeah, yeah... I dunno. I just activate them when I wanna fly. It's like walking or something. Whoa, does that mean you have to give commands to your new frame for walking, too?"

"No," Blast Off replied, hindering his engine from revving again, but his rotor blades still quivered. And this was not only evidence of how irritated he already was, it was also a sign that there had to be a connection between his processor and the blades.

What Vortex had just told him was what he'd already tried and which didn't work, so Blast Off decided to work it out by himself. Maybe he could push one of those buttons of the cockpit. Unable to see them, he still sensed that they were there. He could at least give commands to activate the buttons which then hopefully activated something else...

No sooner thought than done, Blast Off pushed a button near the cyclic. It had to be important if it was that close to it.

With a phopp sound, Blast Off's cockpit doors sprung open.

He wiggled in alt-mode. Vortex looked. The former shuttle could almost see the frown behind the visor.

"Uh," the 'copter uttered, doubtfully. "What was that?"

"I tried something," Blast Off grumbled, attempting to close the doors again, but couldn't. "Apparently it was again wrong. Would you mind closing these-," he suppressed the curse, "doors for me?"

Vortex giggled, and stepped closer. "Sure thing..."

Blast Off's new helicopter mode shook when the doors slammed shut again. The former shuttle already hated this fragile alt-mode.

Without a word, he transformed back. Like before, it was unfamiliar. The centre of gravity changed, and when he was back in root-mode, he stumbled a few steps forward, optics flickering. His rotor blades twitched once, and Blast Off looked behind him. Somehow he expected that a part of him was still not transformed, that something was off. But the landing skids were at his lower legs again, the rotors on his back. His arms were arms and his hands were hands, and only his battle mask was still missing. Uneasily, he shifted on his feet.

"What's wrong?" Vortex asked.

"I don't know. "Blast Off shrugged, his displeasure obvious on his face plates. "Something's off. I mean, despite the obvious."

"Eh? Uh... I mean why did you transform back?"

Right, Vortex didn't know, and truly didn't need to know that Blast Off was unfamiliar and uncomfortable with his new sequence. Turning, he headed back into the base. "I'm going to download a few human helicopter instructions. If you aren't helping me, I have to help myself."

"Hey, wait!" Vortex ran after him, but Blast Off didn't look back. When the 'copter walked next to him, he continued. "Why'd you wanna download human stuff?"

Blast Off exhaled a condescending huff. "Because with these, I hopefully can write my own subroutines later. Until then, I have to control my alt-mode the human way by pushing buttons."

In the control room, Blast Off activated the console.

"That makes sense. I wonder why you haven't got subroutines in the first place." Vortex leant against the console, watching Blast Off operating, and hacking into human databases.

"I'm a shuttleformer. I do have subroutines for my rightful frame."

The 'copter kept quiet after that and let Blast Off work.


About ten joors later, Blast Off and Vortex sat in Onslaught's office.

Their gestalt leader skimmed over the two reports in silence.

Next to Blast Off, Vortex began fidgeting, most likely bored, while Blast Off's rotor blades trembled slightly.

"So," Onslaught said, and the former shuttle was sure he could detect a light amusement in the voice. "Blast Off, you tried to kill Vortex?"

Blast Off raised an optical ridge. He hadn't written that, so Vortex must've done it. He himself wouldn't have called it an attempt to terminate the 'copter. Sure, he'd almost beheaded Vortex once with his tail rotor. And one time Vortex'd had to fling himself to the ground because Blast Off's main rotor had been about to shred him to pieces, but Blast Off was still learning. The new alt-mode was, well, new; he had no working subroutines, and wasn't used to the physical limitations of it.

"That hadn't been on purpose," Blast Off answered, then added. "Probably."

Onslaught laughed quietly, and Vortex crossed his arms.

Blast Off's rotor blades stopped moving; he was amused and in a better mood for the first time after he'd woken up that day in medbay.

Onslaught kept reading a little while, then he looked up, addressing Blast Off. "If you need help with controlling your alt-mode and coding, let me know and I'll talk to the Constructicons."

Tension crept into Blast Off's joints, but he nodded. The prospect of having someone prodding in his processor still made him uneasy, and he'd rather try to find a solution himself.

"Brawl collected a few guns," Onslaught said, "but Swindle hasn't got back to me about any laser weapons yet. Blast Off, you and Brawl will train tomorrow. Close combat and testing the weaponry at 0830. I want your report at the same time as today. Brawl already knows. Vortex," Onslaught turned to the 'copter who had started to play with his tail rotor. "You'll wait here. I may need you to fetch Swindle and whatever arsenal of weapons he got back to base."

"What? No." Vortex engine revved. "I don't wanna wait for slaggin' Swindle. I can train with them, and get him later, if I have to."

Blast Off tensed when Onslaught's engine growled in return. "Blast Off and Brawl will train. You will wait. Dismissed."

Vortex should have known that it'd been a useless protest, Blast Off thought, but kept quiet. He nodded in acknowledgement, and stood up, heading for the rec-room.

He was tired. His rotor hub ached from flying as it had to support all his alt-mode weight for the first time today, and he was looking forward to recharge.

All the training made him feel like he was fresh from the assembly line again. As though he was again an inexperienced youngster.

With an exhausted sigh, he activated the energon dispenser, and leant with his forehead on the wall next to it, staring at the energon tap. A quarter cube this evening, they were on rations again. It was filled quickly, and the energon flow stopped.

At the same time this situation made Blast Off feel very old. He'd never been fond of change. He liked routines and to know when to expect events. He generally liked to know. Happenings like this, different routines and the lack of knowledge of important things made him uneasy. They were exhausting, and annoying.

With another sigh puffing off his vents, he grabbed the cube, and was about to turn. He only then realised that Vortex had been watching him, standing close enough that Blast Off could see the doubtful frown.

"What?" Blast Off wanted to know, but his voice lacked any true sharpness.

"Nothing..." was Vortex' response, but it was clear he was lying.

Blast Off shrugged, and didn't ask again. It was better when he didn't know.

Surprisingly enough, that evening Vortex didn't drop any suggestive hints. And Blast Off was allowed to return to his quarters alone.