Chapter Nine: Aftermath

"He got away," Jazz said in disappointment. "Frag."

"Indeed," Prowl agreed, optics narrowed at the monitors.

The door opened and Sunstreaker limped in. "Sunstreaker!" Jazz called out jovially, immediately sensing from the warrior's tense expression that all was not well. "How ya doin'? Looked like 'Screamer did a real number on ya."

"This is not right," Prowl said with a frown, tracing Starscream's progress through the Ark. "It's too perfect, as if he knew exactly where to go."

"That's because he did." Sunstreaker folded his arms across his chestplate and scowled defensively when his officers turned to stare at him.

"Explain," Prowl said flatly.

Sunstreaker glared at them. "He was gonna shoot Sideswipe," he said gruffly.

Realization suddenly struck Jazz. "What did'ja give him, Sunstreaker?"

He continued to glower, his hostility palpable. "A map."

"A map," Prowl repeated, a trace of astonishment leaking through his customary stoic demeanor.

"Of the base?" Jazz asked, horrified.

Sunstreaker's optics flickered back and forth between Jazz and Prowl, his entire demeanor resembling that of a cornered animal preparing itself to fight. "It was blank and I attached a decaying virus to it, but I didn't have time to-" He stopped abruptly and was silent a moment before continuing. "It was accurate."

A stunned silence filled the room. "Are you aware of what you've done?" Prowl demanded sternly.

Sunstreaker stood at perfect attention and met his optics squarely. "Yes," he said without a hint of regret.

"Well, Prowl," Jazz said, standing up, "I have never envied you're position as chief of disciplinary action less. I'm gonna go help dig out some of the mechs who were trapped in the explosion – you can deal with this mess."

---

Even when it was apparent that the Autobots were no longer in pursuit, Starscream did not slow his relentless pace. The damage he sustained made flying at such a speed tricky if not outright dangerous, but he needed something to keep his mental processes occupied.

Megatron would not be pleased about his prolonged absence. It would take something momentous to appease his anger. With this in mind, he called up the blueprint he'd forced from the Autobot and noticed that it was noticeably less complete than the last time he'd checked.

A decaying virus. That was more amusing than anything. He simply made an uncorrupted copy of the file and used his impeccable memory to fill in the damaged portions. Easy.

---

"You guys go on ahead," Jazz told the others, noting that the corridor they were working on was mostly clear. "I'll move on." They obediently began gathering up the damaged Autobots they'd found and he left for the next hallway.

This one was a mess. It would take joors to sift through the wreckage by conventional means, and a quick scan indicated that the only mech there was trapped in the farthest possible spot. Feeling impatient, Jazz just whipped out a blaster and used it to blaze a trail through the debris.

He reached the end of the corridor before the others returned and pried open the door there. "Hello?" he called out, brightening his optics to see in the dim light.

No one answered so he stepped through the doorway, assuming that whoever the signal belonged to was offline. Behind him, the precariously balanced rubble collapsed into his narrow pathway, sealing off the room again. "I coulda planned that better," he muttered to himself, turning on his alt mode's headlights so he could see.

The room was trashed. Very little of the damage seemed to be directly engendered by the explosion, but everything that wasn't attached to the floor was busted and knocked over and the walls were dented and scoured. In a corner sat Skyfire, curled up with his legs hugged to his chest and his face buried in his knee joints.

"Skyfire?" he called out, concerned.

Slowly, unfocused blue optics rose. "Jazz?" he whispered hoarsely.

"Yeah, it's me." He scrambled across the room and brushed his hand lightly against a massive wing. "Y'okay?"

A cross between a humorless laugh and a shudder shook his huge frame. "I'm a flier. And I've been trapped in a dark, enclosed space…" This time it was just a shudder, and Jazz noticed that his hands were ripped and torn. That explained the destruction in the room, but it almost certainly wasn't the whole truth.

"Ya sure that's the only reason?" he said lightly, settling himself against the wall next to Skyfire. "Doesn't have anything to do with findin' that ya indirectly caused a war?"

Skyfire glared at him balefully. "You eavesdropped."

"Yep. Can ya blame me? Ya haven't exactly been completely honest with us, Skyfire."

"How could I?" He turned away and hid his face again. "It's only been a few orns for me. It's too fresh."

All was silent for a bit and Skyfire began trembling slightly, claustrophobia setting in without the distraction of conversation.

"Starscream broke out," Jazz said casually. It did the trick; Skyfire's attention snapped back to him. "It was quite a darin' escape. No fatalities, thank Primus. Perceptor an' Wheeljack are the worst off. They were closest to his null rays when they detonated."

"So it all comes back to Starscream," Skyfire muttered. "Jazz," he said after a moment. "I think I'd like to join the Autobots. If you'll have me, of course."

"Ya sure?" Jazz asked, though he was not truly surprised.

"Very."

"Ya missed most of he war. Ya can't really get what it's all about." This much, at least, Starscream was right about.

"I can understand enough to recognize that their way is wrong. Knowing this, how could I fail to stand up for what is right?"

If it wasn't such a serious moment, Jazz would have grinned. Skyfire was Autobot material, through and through. "I don't think you'll have trouble gettin' the others to let'cha join. They like ya. You're not tainted by warfare. Ya remind us of before. Tell me," he said, fully aware that he shouldn't pry but also that he needed to find out for certain, "what Starscream said—was it true? About… everything."

For a long time Skyfire did not speak. "The Council proposed the expedition, suited so perfectly to his tastes," he said softly. "I was only reluctantly permitted to accompany him after we both insisted. They provided the ship we traveled in and had their chief engineer inspect it. I found the explosives hidden in the paneling shortly before they were set to go off. There can be no other explanation."

"Ah." Jazz sighed and leaned back. There was nothing he could say to make any of it better. He had lost friends he had been willing to die for but he had never forced himself to sever all ties with one. He was unable to fathom the depths of Skyfire's sorrow and loss and never would be, Primus willing. "Well, it was nice while it lasted."

"What was?" Skyfire asked dully.

"Bein' able to blame someone else for everything that's gone wrong. Turns out the only time we all worked together was to bring this down on ourselves."

---

A/N: BlackMarketTrombones: Filling your angst quota for the week.

Sunstreaker took forever to get right. He's hard. And moody.

I am so tired I almost forgot to update. When I remembered, I almost just put off updating until tomorrow. Then I thought of Starfire 201, Meirelle, and Tugera and all my other faithful fans and said, "These people come regularly every week just to read this story when they have other things they could be doing! Knowing this, can I do less?" So your reviews really do help. And I'm going to bed.