Eep! Here! Take it, I don't want it! *drops chapter and runs*
I could see why Hot Rod didn't like Tracks.
First Aid had more or less left me to myself in the repair bay, so I'd given it some thought and realized that Mirage and my brother had once mentioned someone named Tracks; Mirage thought he was ok, but Hot Rod had tried to shoot him in his sleep. Mirage might be used to overconfident mechs, being a bit of one himself, but Tracks grated on me.
He'd come with the other mech, Bluestreak. I'd been confused at first, since Bluestreak wasn't blue at all… But then he opened his mouth.
"It's so wonderful to meet you! Who would have guessed we'd find someone like you on a routine mission? I can't imagine what it must have been like! Weren't you flying? Where are your wings? Oh, never mind! I see them! Blades has wings sort of like that. Sometimes I wonder what that must be like! Tracks here can fly, it's a special mod he has. He's not a natural like you. Have you met? Tracks, this is Bravura."
"Nice to meet you, Bravura." When Tracks smiled I almost imagined a gleam of light flashed off his denta.
"Nice to meet you, too."
First Aid had moved back to his desk after introducing me to Bluestreak and Tracks. Bluestreak seemed to be in his own little world, smiling with a truly easygoing attitude. I could imagine myself liking him; sometimes, you just want someone else to do the talking.
But I didn't like the look Tracks was wearing. It was similar to that yellow mech, Sunstreaker, who knew he was good looking and expected others to respond accordingly, though there was less disdain in Tracks. The two mechs were obviously formidable soldiers, but Tracks was outright overdone. He had wings, giant guns on his massive shoulders, and a bright red faceplate.
"You wouldn't believe how long it's been since we saw a femme! Probably ten vorns at least, wouldn't you say, Tracks?"
"Maybe, Blue."
Ten vorns since they even saw a femme? How long ago was the femme extermination?
"Are there… many of us left?" I asked hesitantly. I wasn't sure if I was supposed to know this or not. Neither seemed bothered by the question.
"A few, if the rumors are true. We know two are under the protection of a unit running an armory. One had a sparkling a few vorns ago, if I remember correctly," Tracks said smoothly.
"But you know, those rumors make it sound like there are hundreds of femmes who've been captured or enslaved," Bluestreak said with disgust. "I can't decide if I'd rather the rumors be false and just a handful be alive, or if it's better they're alive at all… It's no way to live."
"No, it's not," I agreed with maybe a little too much vehemence.
The two exchanged a look, then turned back to me. "Who's protecting you, Bravura?" Tracks asked. There was more than one meaning in that question, and it made me bristle.
"The Autobot Devcon. He took me in against his better judgment."
"One Autobot?" Tracks scoffed. "You should have a dozen mechs guarding you."
"Devcon's worth a dozen mechs."
The winged mech's expression changed subtly. "Then why did we have to save you? You know, I'm really worth at least a dozen mechs."
Bluestreak laughed. "You're such a kidder, Tracks! I don't know where you get it!"
I forced a short laugh, not taking my optics off Tracks. I was having an extremely difficult time not slapping the slagger. How dare he insult Devcon?
Bluestreak took my hand suddenly, tugging me away from the table I'd been leaning against. "Come on, let's get some energon! We just got out of training and we could use it, and I bet you could too after being a prisoner!"
"I don't know if I'm allowed," I said, looking across the long room to First Aid.
"Hey, doc! Can Bravura grab a cube with us?" Tracks called to the medic.
First Aid looked up thoughtfully. "She isn't in need of repairs, and Magnus didn't ask me to confine her. Keep her with you at all times."
Bluestreak tugged again, and I let him lead me quickly to the door. "Thanks, First Aid," he called cheerily as we left the bright room.
Tracks followed closely behind, since there wasn't quite room for him, with his wide wings, to walk alongside both of us.
"Maybe we'll see some of the other Protectobots. Silly name, isn't it? But they like being called it, because they're combiners. First Aid's an arm, I think," Bluestreak chattered.
"What's a combiner?"
"They're bots who have a special ability to connect with certain other bots. They can combine into one big mech, and when they do it's just about impossible to stop them without another combiner's help."
"I've given Menasor a run for his money, and Sunstreaker and Sideswipe got Devastator to break apart once," Tracks pointed out.
"But it put Sunny in the repair bay for orns, didn't it?" Bluestreak added.
"Devastator… Isn't he the Constructicons?" I asked thoughtfully.
"Well, yeah. How'd you know that?"
"I've seen them. Not combined. What do the Protectobots call themselves when they're all combined?"
"Defensor, of course," Bluestreak chirped. He was still holding my hand, though he didn't seem to be aware of it.
"Of course," I repeated dryly.
The ship was large, and Bluestreak babbled almost the entire way. Tracks spoke up occasionally, usually to correct one of the pearly gray-white mech's exaggerations. We passed only a couple of other mechs, whom Bluestreak stopped to introduce me to.
"Springer, Blades, this is Bravura. Isn't she pretty?"
Both of the mechs were much larger than average; Springer must have been pushing thirty feet tall. They grinned at me good-naturedly, but I looked down self-consciously anyway.
"Always nice to have another flyer onboard," the green one, Springer, said.
I looked up sharply, finally noticing his digitigrade legs. "You fly? I've never met an Autobot natural."
"We both do," Blades said. "Similar alt modes, too. It was a coincidence," he added hastily. Bluestreak had mentioned Blades; he had thin wings poking up from his back. What could he turn into?
"Springer's a triple changer, though," Bluestreak piped in. "He can turn into a land-based vehicle and fly. I always wished I could do that!"
"I've never heard of a triple changer," I said, impressed.
Springer puffed his chest out a little, proud. "We're not common."
I was about to ask him what his flying alt mode was when Bluestreak tugged at me insistently. "Come on, Bravura!"
I waved to Springer and Blades, almost wishing I could stay and talk to them. Flyers seemed so uncommon among the Autobots.
"I don't see what's so great about those triple changers," Tracks grumbled.
"Aw, don't be sore, Tracks. They can't fly in zero-g, either. And you don't have those funny legs. No offense, Bravura! They look nice on you."
I twisted a little as I walked to look back at Tracks. "How do you do that? Fly, I mean."
Tracks basked in the attention. "I have a special upgrade. It's hard to find and almost never compatible with regular bots, but I had a flyer in my family a few generations back and I got lucky. It doesn't hold a candle to someone like you," he admitted. "It's not very efficient for long distance traveling or tight maneuvers, and just about useless without a little gravity, but it's an advantage over most bots."
I nodded and looked back ahead of me as Bluestreak slowed down.
"Here we are!" Bluestreak said, palming a glowing pad on the wall. The door slid open and he pulled me in behind him. "You two go ahead and sit down," he said kindly. "I'll grab us all some cubes."
Tracks replaced Bluestreak's hand with his own and led me to an empty table. Two bots were sitting at the back of the room, but he ignored them despite the fact that they seemed fairly interested in us. Or rather, in me.
He waited for me to sit down, then pushed my chair in for me and sat down next to me. I didn't miss that he slid his chair a little closer to me than it strictly should have been.
"You are very pretty," Tracks said to me quietly. He watched my reaction, which was to duck my face a little and look away. "You don't think so, do you? Is it because of the, ah, scuffmarks?"
"Marks? Where?"
"Your faceplate."
"I thought there was only one." I reached up and touched my cheek where I knew one scuffmark lurked. Tracks extended his hand to my face slowly, as if I might bite, and lightly touched above my own fingers, at my temple, then drew away again.
I felt there too and sighed. "Must have happened when that imposter Exo knocked me out."
Tracks shrugged, smiling. "I have some really great wax, if you want to try it. It helps hide that sort of thing. Scuffs like those won't smooth out for a long time."
"I don't really need to hide it. I wear a mech hologram in public, mostly. Mirage made part of it for me." I deliberately plugged my old friend, just to see if this was the right Tracks.
Tracks seemed surprised at the mention of Mirage and started to say something, but Bluestreak came back, interrupting.
"Here you go!" The bubbly mech had a cube in each hand, and a third balanced out top of one of them. He handed the single cube to me and gave the top cube to Tracks, then sat across from us. "Why didn't you sit with Blaster and Kup?"
Tracks shrugged. "They looked busy."
"Huh, they don't anymore. Maybe we should call them over? Hey Bl-" He started to stand up, but Tracks leaned across the table and stopped him.
"Come on, Blue, we don't have to introduce her to every bot on the ship!" Tracks
groaned.
Bluestreak sat down willingly enough, looking confused. "Why not? Doesn't everyone like meeting new bots? I love it, it's always fun getting to talk about new things!"
I smiled at the oblivious Bluestreak. Tracks wanted more attention for himself, that I was sure of, while Bluestreak seemed to enjoy showing of his new friend the femme.
"I don't mind meeting them," I said with a smile. "It seems like the only mechs I can trust are Autobots and a few medics, so I might as well get to know as many as I can."
Bluestreak frowned. "It must be terrible."
I shrugged. It was a fact of life now, kind of like not getting to eat my favorite Human foods anymore. "When life gives you…" I trailed off. There was no Cybertronian equivalent for a lemon, as far as I knew.
Tracks laid his hand over mine where it rested next to my cube of energon. I looked up at the soldier in surprise. He thought I was choked up! There was real compassion in his expression, as well as in Bluestreak's.
My shoulders slumped as I sighed. I was tired of people giving me that look. Butcher and Pinch had both worn it around me. Even Exo had pitied me. Devcon seemed to be the only bot out here who treated me the way I wanted to be treated. Well, mostly… I'd give almost anything for Mirage's easy companionship, Prowl's rare approval, Ratchet's obvious pleasure in teaching, Hot Rod's comforting presence when I recharged...
"We'll fix everything someday," Bluestreak said gently.
I shook off my homesickness and looked up at Bluestreak with a slightly forced smile "I know. I'm not sad or angry… Not very, anyway. It's not the Autobots' fault."
I used my free hand to pick up my energon cube and take a sip; Tracks still held my other one captive.
"Well, well! What have we here?"
I looked for the source of the rough, crackly voice and saw that the bots from the other table had walked over. The one who'd spoken was a roughened mech who seemed like he'd seen better days, wearing a green and brown camouflage paint job. The mech with him was red and yellow, with short antennae on either side of his face. His optics were partially shaded by a visor.
"This is the femme we found earlier!" Bluestreak chirped unnecessarily. "Her name is Bravura. Bravura, this is Kup and Blaster. Kup's been a war hero since before the war! He's seen everything, and Blaster can do things with radio frequencies that you wouldn't believe!"
Blaster tilted his head at me a little. "You should see what I could do with the right music." His optic ridges twitched suggestively and I very nearly burst out laughing.
"Maybe some other time. Nice to meet you two."
"Pleasure's all mine," said Blaster, pulling up a chair next to Bluestreak.
Kup remained standing, but when Bluestreak tried to talk him into sitting he waved the friendly mech off.
"I have a mountain of reports to look over, I should really take care of it. You don't let these mechs push you around," he said with a firm nod to me, then turned and walked away.
Blaster snorted. "Looks like Tracks is already getting pushy."
"What's that supposed to mean?" Tracks scowled at the offending mech.
Blaster waved casually to the table, and I looked down. Oh, his hand. He was still holding mine.
I slid it slowly out from under his, not wanting to hurt his feelings, but not wanting to let him walk all over me either. Tracks didn't seem bothered at all, fortunately, and simply folded his arms on the tabletop to lean forward a bit. I could practically feel his wing close to my back, but I tried to ignore it.
"We were beginning to think we'd seen the last of any new femmes," Blaster said conversationally. "How'd you manage to stay hidden for so long?"
"I stayed on an organic planet out in the middle of nowhere. Optimus Prime and a lot of his top mechs found their way out there eventually, following the Allspark."
All of the mechs straightened.
"They recovered the Allspark?" Tracks asked in shock.
"No… It was destroyed when they killed Megatron."
"Megatron's dead? That's fantastic! I mean, it's terrible about the Allspark, especially considering the femmes… Really terrible. But it's really good news to hear that tyrant is gone," Bluestreak said awkwardly.
"We need to take her to the Commander," Blaster said quietly.
"I don't know much," I protested. "I left before Starscream started causing much trouble. It's gotten worse."
"How do you know that?"
"Hot Rod, my twin."
Everything went wrong at that point.
"Hot Rod? The Autobot Hot Rod?"
I nodded slowly.
"Hot Rod doesn't have a twin. And certainly not a femme twin."
"Kup never mentioned a twin."
"We need to get Kup, too."
Tracks took my hand and pulled me to my feet. I suddenly felt that I was in hostile territory, so I didn't resist. These mechs could fold me into a pretzel if they cared to.
Bluestreak and Blaster flanked us on the way out, Bluestreak heading in the opposite direction of the rest of us. Blaster peeled off at the next corridor.
"What just happened?" I asked slowly.
"You slipped up, Decepticon."
I dug my heels hard into the floor. Tracks stopped, not because he couldn't pull me but probably because he didn't want to.
"I am not a Decepticon! How dare you!"
"I have to admit, it was pretty clever. We'd never suspect a femme; too bad you're as dumb as a pump."
"What in the Pit are you talking about?" I tried to yank free of Tracks, but he only tightened his grip.
"Your lie. We all know Hot Rod. Kup raised him from a sparkling!"
He saw the realization strike me and took it for a confession. "That's what I thought."
"Look, I'm telling the truth! It's really complicated, but it's the truth. I'm not a Decepticon! Optimus and his men were practically the only friends I had on Earth. Mirage was my best friend, he told me about the time Hot Rod tried to shoot you while he was recharging. I would never-"
"Save it for Ultra Magnus," Tracks said. He yanked my arm as he started on his way again, and my only choice was to stumble along with him.
"I'm not lying," I whispered miserably.
Tracks ultimately took me a to the brig. I wasn't surprised to see Exo, Argent, and the others behind bars there. Tracks didn't leave me in a cell, however, just put me in a small room with a couple of chairs. Tracks motioned for me to sit in one, so I did. After he glared at me for a few moments, he leaned back against the wall to wait.
We didn't wait long. Perhaps a breem later a very tall blue, red and white mech stepped in the room with us.
"Opti-" I cut myself off. The similarity of this mech with Optimus was… striking. This mech was probably shorter, but he had the same carriage, a similar air of leadership.
"Blaster tells me we've allowed a spy into our midst."
"Looks that way," Tracks said coldly. "Caught her in a lie."
"I was not lying! It's a long story, but I'll tell it to you if you'll let me!"
Ultra Magnus raised one hand to me, asking for silence. "What lie, exactly?"
"She said she was Hot Rod's spark twin. None of us have ever heard anything about a twin, so Bluestreak went to get Kup."
Ultra Magnus nodded, crossing his arms. "I see." He looked to me, his expression stern but not threatening. "Were you coerced into collecting information? Did they threaten to harm you, or maybe your mate? Your sparkling?"
"I'm not collecting information. Honestly, I was hunting Cons with Devcon when that fragging imposter from the chop shop caught me."
"Why would you lie about Hot Rod?"
"I didn't. He really is my twin."
The door slid open again, and the camouflaged mech from before slipped in. The room was starting to feel very small.
"Hot Rod hasn't got a spark twin," Kup said without preamble.
"He didn't. But now he does. Please, let me explain!"
"Ultra Magnus, maybe she's being remotely controlled. It's possible, and she doesn't look like the type to join with Megatron and survive," Tracks said, his optics on me.
"I don't know what the frell is going on, but I don't like it," Kup grumbled.
"Thank you, Kup. I'll let you know if we need anything else."
Kup shrugged and left after giving me a hard stare.
"Tracks… thank you for bringing this to my attention. I'll take it from here."
"But sir, what-"
"You're dismissed, Tracks."
"Yes, sir."
Tracks left reluctantly, eying me on his way out. Pity mixed with irritation.
"Well. Let's not waste any time, shall we? You said you had a story to tell." Ultra Magnus took a chair, leaning back comfortably. He didn't look nervous at all, but then he was close to twice my size.
I looked down at my lap, took a deep intake, then told Ultra Magnus the whole story, from being rescued by Skywarp to my rerescue by Hot Rod and Bumblebee, the arrival of Mirage, being taken to Skywarp's base by Thundercracker, being healed under Skywarp's machine…
Ultra Magnus seemed confused. "I don't understand how he healed you. You can't just zap your frame back together."
Slag it all… I hadn't explained it, not yet. "Well… you see, I was organic. I was a species called Human. Born and raised. Barricade broke the bone in my arm, and Skywarp fixed it."
"I don't understand."
So I continued, to being rescued from Thundercracker and the Constructicons by Prowl, to finding the base occupied by the military, to the accident that set off the metal hiding in my arm. How Skywarp brought Perceptor to help, how Hot Rod bound his spark to me in order to save my life, and how he and Perceptor preserved my memories.
Ultra Magnus seemed skeptical. "I don't really know if that's all even… possible. I've never heard of it before. You were an organic female, and after Hot Rod, a mech, saved you with his own spark, you became a fully functioning femme?"
"Well… no. Not fully functioning."
"In what way?"
"I… I'm sterile, I guess you'd say. I can't form or carry a sparkling."
Ultra Magnus frowned. "I see."
My posture drew inward slightly as I sighed. Any desire he had to protect me before would be tested now. I wasn't really his kind, and I couldn't help the race.
"This certainly wasn't what I was expecting," Ultra Magnus finally admitted. "It's almost… well, too farfetched to be contrived. Come with me, please."
I stood up when Ultra Magnus did, following along behind him like a whipped dog. He didn't bother to check to see if I was behind him.
Tracks was waiting outside, and he fell in beside me. The hostility was gone, probably because Magnus didn't seem to be concerned.
Magnus took us back to the medical bay. Nobody said a word on the way.
First Aid looked up from his desk as we filed in, then stood up to meet us.
"How can I help you, Ultra Magnus?"
"I need you to corroborate some testimony, First Aid. Would you please examine our guest, Bravura's, spark?"
I stood up a little straighter in surprise. He was asking me to humiliate myself, really? But… First Aid had gone in and restored some of my systems. He must have seen it already.
"Oh… ok. What am I looking for, exactly?"
"Any, ah, irregularities that would prevent her carriage of a sparkling."
First Aid seemed bewildered, but he motioned me to an exam table. I went and stretched out without protest, even opening my chest for him. The mech bent over me and looked down at my spark, his expression sharp and penetrating. After a long, painful stretch of time he looked up and shook his head.
"It's true that her spark isn't what I'd call typical, but I don't know that she couldn't bear a sparkling."
"Ratchet said I couldn't," I said almost defensively. "When that sla- when Starscream saw it, when he was trying to capture me, he called me an abomination and let me go."
"Starscream is a Decepticon, not to mention prone to exaggeration," Ultra Magnus said almost to himself.
"He'd have to take quite a stretch to call her an abomination."
I frowned angrily, shutting my chest with a click and sitting up. Why couldn't he see what the others saw? Was he not a good medic? Was he too used to mech sparks? He didn't really see the oddity that was mine?
"Well, it doesn't exactly match your, ah, story…" Magnus began, "but it doesn't contradict it, not entirely." The Commander looked at Tracks. "She's not a spy."
Tracks nodded distractedly. He was looking at me, but I wouldn't make optic contact. He'd been so quick to turn on me, and now he was staring at me like I'd grown a second head.
"Where's Devcon?" I asked abruptly. I heard the whine in my words, but I really didn't care. I wanted my friend slash guard dog, and I wanted him now.
"He should arrive within the joor," Ultra Magnus said after a moment's thought.
"Wait a minute." Tracks looked up at his commander. "You can't really be sending her back with him."
"It's her choice, Tracks."
"But he can't take care of her. We had to save her from a wretched little chop shop. What if nobody's there to help her the next time? She's too valuable, sir!"
"Didn't you hear First Aid?" I asked irritably. "I'm not typical. As in, not valuable."
"I didn't say that!" First Aid corrected me swiftly. "I said you aren't what's generally expected, and it's possible you're infertile, but frankly there's not much wrong with you!"
"Well Ratchet, Optimus Prime's CMO, said I was infertile."
First Aid crossed his arms, looking annoyed. "I spent much of my training under Ratchet, Bravura. If you're trying to imply that I'm incompetent-"
"Nobody would even suggest it," Ultra Magnus swiftly interposed.
First Aid nodded sharply.
I snorted and slid off the table. "Is there somewhere I can go to wait for Devcon?"
"She can stay in my quarters," Tracks offered.
I shot him a warning look, but he only smiled.
"Someone needs to keep an optic on her," Ultra Magnus said dismissively. "No offense, Bravura."
I shrugged and leaned on the table. "Is there a mech who will go to the training room with me? I could use the exercise." In other words, I wanted to blow off some steam.
"I'll go with you," Tracks said.
"You were just in the training room," I said quickly. I'd had enough of the winged mech.
"You can never get enough practice," Tracks said with a sly smile.
I sighed and looked to Ultra Magnus. "May I?"
The Commander nodded, so I looked to Tracks. "Lead the way."
Springer and Blades were training. And it was scary.
The room was big, big enough for Springer to live up to his name, apparently. The green mech was all over the large room, using double blades in each hand to chop holograms to bits. Blades wasn't quite as mobile, but he made up for it with what seemed to me like a madman's ferocity.
Tracks bumped into me when I halted in the doorway to stare at the two mechs. Tracks chuckled and nudged me on, then led me to the sidelines where a bench waited.
I sat down and stared at the mechs as they continued to tear up holograms. At one point Tracks nudged my chin playfully, so I snapped my mouth shut. These mechs seemed so nice, so friendly, so gentle. But they could turn into this.
Skywarp could turn into this. So could Hot Rod, and Mirage, and everyone else. Even Devcon, though his methods didn't usually call for it.
A hologram came within feet of us at one point, and Springer leapt across the room to slice it down the middle. It split apart and disappeared, leaving the grinning green mech to tower over us.
"Hey! You want to get in on the action, miss?"
I'd thought I did, but these boys were out of my league. I'd really look like a bunglebolt next to them.
"Go on," Tracks said. "Show us what you've got."
The other mechs were using blades, no guns, so I figured my lack of weapons systems wouldn't hurt me too badly. I stood up slowly and extended my knives, earning a crow of delight from Springer. Blades looked up from the hologram he was slicing to pieces and gave a whoop.
I stood there stupidly, looking at the several fierce looking holograms lurking around the training room. They were all bigger than me, more in Blades and Springer's league than my own, but I'd give it a shot. Springer was waiting for me, so I trotted into the training area.
A blue light flashed in the ceiling as soon as I crossed the white line, and two of the holograms looked at me. The closer one came at me quickly and I froze; a silver blade came between us, and then Springer was cutting the hologram down.
"Don't be scared, they're just holograms." He grinned at me and I nodded, then looked to the second hologram, which was stalking closer.
I made myself run at the big hologram, sliding to the side and flipping it to its back when it tried to punch me. I slashed my knives into its neck and the holograms faded away.
"Behind you!"
I whirled around and found a huge hologram practically on top of me, its red optics glowing convincingly. I dropped low and darted between its legs, grabbing its thigh and stabbing between its armor for the main tension line. It roared and fell to one side, slashing at me with one hand.
I found myself sliding out of the arena from the force of the blow. I stood up slowly, dazed, and Tracks was there in front of me, holding my shoulders and bending down to get optic contact.
"Are you ok? Hey, look at me."
I did, then smiled. "Quite a punch," I said, then twisted away from him and crossed back into the training arena. Blades had finished off the mech who'd punched me, so two new holograms were targeting me.
The rhythm of it soon came to me, and I was actually joining Springer into some double team moves; he'd come in and finish off a hologram I'd incapacitated, I'd leap off the back of his ankle to fight off a hologram coming in behind him. For some reason, I had no desire to try with Blades.
At one point Springer stopped me and pulled me to the side.
"Why aren't you using your thrusters? They're positioned just right for combat and stabilization."
"Thrusters? You mean, for flying?"
"Yeah. You can use them anytime, you know. See how I cover ground, what kind of advantage it gives me? You should do that with your thrusters. Keep 'em guessing, never stop moving. Just don't hit the ceiling."
I nodded, the new possibilities flooding me with excitement. "Thanks, Springer," I said, then ran with him back into the arena. For every one of his huge steps I needed three, but I kept up. When the next hologram came at me, instead of going around it at an angle I leapt over it with a quick burst of my thrusters.
I didn't quite hit the ceiling, but I did underestimate the power I'd given it coupled with my leap. I flew high over the hologram's head and landed halfway across the arena. I laughed at the agility I hadn't known I had, how dangerous it made me feel.
The hologram turned on me and I tried the maneuver again, flipping a little lower and landing just behind it. I twirled and leapt off the back of its knee, jamming my blades into the back of its neck before twisting backwards and landing on my feet again.
I felt unstoppable. Even when a hologram pinned me and I had to be rescued by Blades, I was ecstatic. Hot Rod was amazed and a little confused, but thrilled at my newfound confidence.
During the long training session his partner talked him into finishing their interface. Hot Rod was reluctant, tired, but soon he gave in and the first ripples of their intimacy washed over me.
I was able to fight it at first, but then took a hard hit from one hologram, and then another. The third blow knocked me down, and both Blades and Springer leapt to my aid. Blades picked me up while Springer went to the wall to shut off the training program.
"Wow, you just tanked there. You ok?" Blades cradled me bridle-style in his arms.
I nodded, distracted by the proximity of the battle-warmed chest I was being held against.
"We'll have First Aid take a look at you."
"What happened out there? Is she ok?"
"Yeah, just out of it I think," Blades said to a worried Tracks. "I'm going to take her to the repair bay just in case."
"No," I said, pushing against the invitingly powerful mech who was carrying me. "I'm fine, really."
"You don't seem fine."
"I can walk," I said grumpily. God damn it, Hot Rod! Way to rain on my fragging parade!
Blades set me down hesitantly as Springer clanked to our side of the big room. Standing wasn't difficult, but not giving Blades a caress before he straightened up was almost too hard to manage. I kept my hands to myself, fortunately.
This was getting ridiculous. Hot Rod had every right to what he was doing. I had to cope. Maybe… When was the next time I might get a chance to talk to a medic? Maybe I should ask First Aid? Besides, asking for his advice might help smooth over the little jab I'd made at his skills as a doctor.
"Maybe you're right," I said. "I think I should go see First Aid."
"You're sure you can walk?" Tracks moved up close beside me as if he wanted to lift me up himself.
"Of course I can. I'm tougher than I look."
It amused me that all three mechs came with me to the repair bay. Tracks made sure to be nearest me at all times, but that didn't surprise me. He'd gotten in Hot Rod's bubble, too.
First Aid almost seemed exasperated when all four of us came back into his repair bay. He got up and came to us warily.
"Yes?"
"Bravura took a few too many hits in the training room. Mind taking a look at her?" Springer asked.
"Actually, that's not what I wanted to ask you. It's kind of… um… private."
"Private?"
"As in… a femme related question."
I didn't miss the surprised look Blades and Springer exchanged.
"Oh! Right, out, soldiers," First Aid said quickly.
Those mechs wouldn't have run out faster if you'd lit their afts on fire.
"Come have a seat," First Aid said, gesturing to the chair in front of his desk. It looked surprisingly comfortable for something you'd find on a military ship.
Sitting down, I decided that it wasn't as comfy as it looked. First Aid took his chair across the desk and looked at me expectantly.
"I, uh… I've been having a problem lately."
"Can you describe it to me?"
"Well… my spark twin has been, um… interfacing with someone. They're too far away to contact, and well… I need to know how to cope. It makes me want to- I mean, it's embarrassing!" I finished lamely.
"How very interesting… The only thing for it is to learn a coping method, or to find someone to interface with. I would say to ask Sunstreaker, our resident twin, how he manages, but he's actually having the same problem you are. He's still adjusting to being separated from Sideswipe."
I stared at the doctor. Sunstreaker was a twin? Hadn't he come in complaining about Sideswipe just moments after I woke up to Hot Rod interfacing…?
"No way," I hissed to myself. Not possible. Not in a million years.
"I need to talk to him," I said to First Aid quickly. "I think… I don't know! I just need to talk to him."
"He's probably not in a very good mood," First Aid warned.
"Yeah, well neither am I. My spark twin is going at it right now," I growled at the medic.
"I see. Well… Computer, where is Sunstreaker?"
"In his quarters," A dull, sexless voice said from the ceiling.
"Where are his quarters?" I asked urgently.
First reached his hand across the desk so I could take it. He sent me a map of the ship, with a small highlight where Sunstreaker's quarters were. Not far.
"Thanks, First Aid."
I jumped up and rushed out of there faster than the mechs had.
Sunstreaker wouldn't answer the door. I tried the pad, but it rejected me. I tried beating on the door, but he didn't answer. Finally I started yelling at it.
"Sunstreaker! This is Bravura, the fraglet! I know what your spark twin is doing right now. I know how you feel! I think he's with my spark twin!"
The door slid open with a hiss, and a balefully beautiful Sunstreaker stood there, staring down at me.
"What the frag are you going on about?"
"Sideswipe is interfacing right now, isn't he?"
Sunstreaker growled. "That's none of your business, fraglet."
"But it is. He's interfacing with my twin, and it's driving me up the slagging wall."
Sunstreaker's angered faded a little, but without warning he grabbed my arm and pulled me into his quarters.
It was at half lighting. The first thing that jumped to my attention was a small hologram on a narrow shelf. I crossed the small space to the hologram and picked it up. It showed Sunstreaker with a red mech, both exuding confidence.
"Is this Sideswipe?" I asked before Sunstreaker snatched the hologram and put it back.
"Yes. Who's your twin?"
"Hot Rod."
Sunstreaker scowled. "A mech is your twin."
"It's complicated, but yes. Do you know him?"
"No."
"Everyone else on this ship seems to."
"I haven't been with them long. I was assigned to this ship after my unit had to leave me behind for repairs."
Sunstreaker didn't seem ready to move, so I slipped around him and sat on his berth. "How do you cope?" I asked.
"Just have to ride it out. There's not much else you can do." He came and sat next to me, the haughty show suddenly melting away. He looked haggard, tired.
"Feels like they're having a pretty good time," I mumbled, leaning forward to cross my arms in my lap.
"This is nothing. If they decide to bond…"
"Worse?"
"A million times worse. Sideswipe bonded someone else once, a long time ago. The mech died in the war, but every fragging time they went at it was torture."
The groan that escaped me was a little strangled. Hot Rod was reaching his peak. I held my intakes as he fell over the edge. Glancing over at Sunstreaker, he was looking at the ceiling, his fists clenched. He was beautiful, really. Shiny, broad, nice color. He glanced down at me.
"Stop staring. Makes it worse." His optics went back to the ceiling.
Instead of looking at the increasingly attractive mech, I glared down at my feet. Damn it, Hot Rod.
Once Hot Rod was unconscious, I could focus again. Sunstreaker relaxed slightly next to me, but if he was anything like me he didn't feel much better. I was still at risk of jumping the next mech I stumbled across, not to mention the soldier sitting on the berth next to me.
"Well… it's nice to know somebody else is suffering with me," I grumbled.
Sunstreaker's laugh surprised me. "Strangely, you're right."
You going to come say hi, kid?
Devcon?! You're here?
That's right. Ultra Magnus is already meeting me.
Where are you? Main docking bay, right? I'll see you there. I'd use the map First Aid had given me.
Sunstreaker seemed amused by my sudden distraction. "What is it?"
"My ride just got here. It's been nice sharing your misery, Sunstreaker."
Sunstreaker laughed again. "Get out of my quarters, fraglet."
Blaster passed me on my way to the docking bay.
"Blaster! Don't look at me like that, Ultra Magnus cleared me. Can you tell everyone I said bye? Devcon's here."
The red and yellow mech finally cracked a smile. "Sure, Bravura. I'm sorry to see you go."
Oddly, I was sorry to leave. These mechs were like a family and for a brief time I'd been part of it.
I hugged the soldier, then continued on my way at a half-run.
As soon as I saw Devcon's dark blue paint job I couldn't help but yelp his name. He turned to look at me just in time to catch me as I hurtled into him, wrapping him in a tight hug. His arms circled me protectively and his head ducked against my helm.
Thought you were a goner, kid.
Missed you too, Devcon.
R & R, lovelies!
