A/N: This chapter features another product of trauma from Borderlands 2. This gun probably confused the heck out of anyone who used it for the first time.

"Yee-hah!" Sunstreaker charged into fray, test-weapon out and ready.

Half of the Decepticons facing him backpedaled to a safe distance. The other half opened fire with a roar.

"Whoo, I think they remember me, Sides!" Sunstreaker gloated, even as he fell back into a defensive position with his twin.

"No joke, Sunny!" replied Sideswipe, opening fire.

The yellow Lamborghini brandished his latest gift.

"Time to show them what this baby can do!" he shouted, and pulled the trigger with a whoop.

*PUNG* went the gun, and the shot flew harmlessly over the approaching Decepticons.

"What the Pit was that?" Sideswipe teased as he backhanded Wildrider.

Sunstreaker growled, aimed the weapon straight at Spyglass and fired.

*PUNG*

The muzzle was pointed dead ahead. The acid round flew up at a perfect sixty-degree angle, arced back down and impacted several yards away.

"Oh, for the love of—this thing doesn't aim right!" he wailed, dismayed.

Sideswiped ducked a jab from the Stunticon and retaliated with a roundhouse. "Don't hate the gun…hate the wielder."

Sunstreaker groaned as he joined the assault.

Together, they fought Wildrider off. Sunstreaker threw a snap-kick and the Decepticon leapt back.

"Now!"

Sideswiped jumped into the air, and Sunstreaker grabbed onto his arm. The yellow warrior swung his twin forward at the same time Sideswipe's jetpack activated, and the red Lamborghini's fist slammed into Wildrider with all the force of a jet-engine.

Sideswipe crowed over the prone Stunticon. "And that's how it's—holy slag!" he cut off as a shot just missed him.

"Stunticons, to me!" Motormaster commanded.

The two Autobots turned tail and ran.

"Here, you try it!" Sunstreaker snapped, tossing the defective pistol to his twin.

Sideswipe deftly caught it, whirled around and popped three rounds at their pursuers.

*PUNG PUNG PUNG*

The volley overshot his targets by a distressing margin.

He threw it back to the yellow mech and drew his own blaster.

"What's WRONG with it?!"

They dove behind cover. Sideswipe peered over the top.

*BANG*

"Argh!"

Sideswipe's gun went flying. He hit the ground, shoulder smoking.

"Sides!"

Sunstreaker made to stand, but Sideswipe yanked him back down. "Don't! I didn't see them. They're hiding somewhere!"

Sunstreaker growled and shook him off, but nonetheless peeked cautiously over the top, scanning the battleground for any sign of their opponents. A flash caught his eye, and he barely ducked a hail of laser fire.

"Now we know where they are, and they know where we are. We're even!" he grinned cheekily. "No worries, bro, I got this."

He sprung up, gun at the ready—

-and fell backwards as another barrage from the Stunticons scorched the wall where his head had been.

Sideswipe snickered.

"Shut up!" Sunstreaker snarled. "You're not doing any better!"

The other twin raised an eyebrow and gestured at his smoldering shooting arm.

"Arrrrgh…all I've got this is defective piece of scrap that only shoots up!"

An idea suddenly formed in his processor. He turned, and pointed the gun at the wall blocking them from the Stunticons' view.

*PUNG*

The acid round soared up over the wall and out of sight.

An undignified howl came from somewhere beyond the barrier.

Perfect.

Sunstreaker aimed the muzzle directly at the wall where the Stunticons were lurking, and rapidly tapped the trigger. Each missile shot up into the air and dropped down right over the Stunticons' heads.

"Waaaaagh!"


The Autobots returned to the Ark after another successful counter-attack. The engineer was heading for his workshop when he heard someone call.

"Wheeljack!"

He barely had time to turn around before he was clapped on the shoulder—hard.

"Wheeljack, you-" Sunstreaker grinned maniacally, twirling his gun around his finger, "—are an insane, wonderful, moronic genius! This is the most retarded blaster I've ever used! You're never getting this back!"

With that, he dashed off in the direction of the washracks, leaving a bewildered Lancia in his wake.


The Decepticon plot of the week involved JPL and hostages, so Optimus commissioned Wheeljack to whip something up that was one hundred percent nonvolatile. If anyone was going to have difficulty with that order, it was Wheeljack.

Frontliners like the twins weren't needed in this kind of situation, so they were on standby at base. Sunstreaker finished his energon ration and was about to leave the mess hall, when he remembered what Sludge told him. The report of the hostage situation had come in the early afternoon, and it was currently evening. Thinking about it, the engineer must have been working all day.

Sunstreaker grabbed another cube of energon and headed for the lab. There was no answer at the door, so he let himself in. Sure enough, Wheeljack was at his workstation, surrounded by various pieces of clutter. A mechanism of some sort was taking shape on the bench in front of him.

"Hey."

The engineer frowned, grabbed a circuitboard, and held it up to his creation-in-progress. His headfins flashed, and he began wiring them together.

No one ignored Sunstreaker. Despite the dangers of navigating the literal mine field that was Wheeljack's lab, he strode up to lab bench and plonked the cube right next to the mystery device. "I said 'hey.' When's the last time you ate?"

"Hn? " Wheeljack's optics remained focused on his work. "Can you hand me that tungsten block?"

With his eye for detail, Sunstreaker quickly found the item in question. It was obviously used in previous experiments, as it more closely resembled a potato after it's been used for potato gun ammo than an actual block. "Drink your cube and then you can have this."

Wheeljack finally looked up. "Not funny, Sunstreaker. I need that."

"You need to eat. I know you don't eat when you're working, so drink that," he gestured at the energon cube, "and I'll give this back."

"There's no need to be childish."

"Then drink your energon like a good sparkling."

Cue staring contest.

Wheeljack groaned, snatched up the cube and opened his blast mask. "Since when did my eating habits matter to you, anyway?"

Sunstreaker placed the block on the countertop, as promised. "Since you had me testing out your firearms, I've almost been short-circuted, blown-up, ripped apart and mangled. I think it's best for my paint job if you're firing on all cylinders when you build things."

The engineer placed the cube back down, empty. "That's nonsense. I don't allow my fuel levels to affect my genius."

"Says the mech who made a gun that couldn't hit the broad side of Motormaster."

"Yes, and I'm the only Cybertronian in the galaxy who can make a gun like that."

Sunstreaker laughed.

The next day, Wheeljack's shrink ray saved the lives of hundreds of humans. Nothing blew up.


Wheeljack found Sunstreaker lying the floor, with Red Alert sitting on him. The security officer looked decidedly uncomfortable, probably due to the fact that Sunstreaker's face was buried between his legs.

"W-Wheeljack!" Red Alert stammered, stumbling off of the other Lamborghini. "What are you doing here?"

"I have something for Sunstreaker here to try out," the engineer stated, nonplussed. "But if you're busy, that's fine."

Sunstreaker rolled his eyes and sat up. "Me and Red were just sparring. Show me what you got."


"How come you never take those things to the range first?!" Sideswipe yelled over the sounds of close-range laser fire.

Sunstreaker used the remaining half of his blaster to gouge a handhold onto the surface of Dirge's jet mode as the Decepticon accelerated to Mach 3. "It's more fun this way!"