Author´s notes: Thanks guys, for reading my story and for your reviews. I love to receive feedback :o) I´m enjoying holidays so I updated faster than I use to. Is there anything better than writing fanfiction from the comfort of your own bed?

Thanks for beta reading my stuff, sista KayDee Blu.

Chapter 10

Skywarp paced nervously between the energy generator and the closed door.

"How much longer are you planning to do that? You're starting to scratch the slagging floor!" Motormaster complained.

Skywarp stopped, more for the urgency of trying to pull himself together than any kind of polite consideration toward the Stunticon. He leaned against the wall, clenching his fists frantically. The mess inside his mind was doing very little to help ease the situation any.

Motormaster watched the Seeker's predicament with an evil smirk. The anguish of others had always been a reliable source of sick amusement to him.

"So, what are you going to do to help your dear friend, Skywarp?" continued the Stunticon leader, bare sarcasm exposed in his voice.

"I'm trying to think, Motormaster!" was the disorganized answer.

The nasty scoff heard from the other end of the room increased the tension on the black jet's face. Having paid careful attention with no less fun than his commander, Drag Strip stood up from the energy generator he had been sitting on and approached both Decepticons.

"There's nothing to think about. It's not our problem, Moto. We only have two cycles off duty and I don't plan to spend them hearing this Seeker whine!"

Skywarp's optics blazed deadly crimson beams. Under other circumstances, he would've happily embedded his fist into the middle of the Stunticon's visor, but at the moment, there were far more important priorities.

"Shouldn't you be watching that Empty, Drag Strip?" Skywarp shot back, his anger more than obvious.

The Stunticon glanced to a closed door on the opposite end of the room. "That junk pile can barely stand! Where's he gonna go? That storage unit is locked!"

Skywarp ignored Drag Strip and folded his arms across his chest. For the first time in many vorns the latent threat of desperation seeped through him.

"You didn't answer my question. What are you going to do? When are you going to inform Megatron?" The smile on Motormaster's face components became wider.

Skywarp didn't reply. Contacting Earth Headquarters was definitely not in his plans. Even though Thundercracker was one of the Decepticon Aerial Elite's top lieutenants, rescuing a single soldier deep within enemy territory would never win favor with Megatron. The politics and constant scheming of the High Command were beyond the black Seeker's understanding, not to mention he preferred staying as far away as possible from it all.

His first thought had been focused on Starscream. But Skywarp knew perfectly well the Air Commander wouldn't lift a finger for Thundercracker. The same went for Shockwave, who wouldn't blink his only optic without Megatron's approval.

All alternatives were being drastically reduced. Only one solution remained.

"We'll have to rescue him ourselves," Skywarp concluded finally, his voice sharp and serious.

"Us?" Drag Strip snickered. "Did I miss something? Who died and named you leader, you buffoon?"

The Stunticon glanced at his leader for support but Motormaster remained smugly silent.

"This is Thundercracker's problem! If he was stupid enough to let those Autobots capture him, it's none of our business! As far as I'm concerned, he's history!"

Skywarp stepped toward Drag Strip with a murderous shine in his optics. "None of your business, you said? Aren't you a Decepticon, you slagging idiot?"

The answer came from the cold voice of Motormaster. "We are Stunticons."

Skywarp faced the big grey mechanoid. "And what are the Stunticons but Decepticons? Where is your loyalty?"

Antagonizing contempt unveiled itself then. "We serve Megatron because he created us. Seekers are nothing more than dispensable flying accessories," Motormaster stated coldly.

Rage circled through Skywarp's spark. Dispensable flying accessories? Since when did mechs who favorably adopted earthling habits - using their verbal slang, being proud about the fact they had been created from Earth vehicles - get off calling anyone dispensable?

Sparklings were all they were… not even real Decepticons at that… just young defectiveimitations of Cybertronians whose lives didn't even exceed two terrestrial years. And although their brutality had proven effective enough, it still was nothing more than, in Skywarp's opinion, a fake appearance of maturity.

Nevertheless, the Stunticons' youth also left open doors and advantages – advantages that needed manipulating.

"Accessories are useful, Motormaster, which is much more that could be said about you," Skywarp said, laying the bait. "Since your creation, your only claim to fame has been causing painful defeats from your incompetence and complete failure to work as an organized team."

The little antic worked. Motormaster's smile vanished, his face turning into maddening fury.

"You will shut that trap hole you have as a mouth, Skywarp, or so help me I will..."

This time, it was the Seeker who smiled with something more than superiority. "Nothing is more painful than the truth, is it Moto?" mocked Skywarp. To call the Stunticon leader by the nickname only used by his fellow gestalt mates proved to be a successful choice. The anger shining in his optics proved so.

Savoring his victory, Skywarp continued. "Don't even waste your time, Moto. You're too slow for me!"

The Seeker accompanied his words with actions. A violet beam of light welcomed Motormaster's gargantuan fist impacting the wall brutally.

Reappearing directly behind Drag Strip, Skywarp violently shoved him, making the yellow Tyrell collapse against his leader.

"You're nothing more than a bad joke, Motormaster! Why don't we continue this when you form Menasor? I like to fight rivals on equal conditions, you know…"

Motormaster roughly pushed Drag Strip aside and pounced on Skywarp.

"Stop teleporting like a coward and fight!" he roared.

Skywarp manifested his answer again with an empty space. Drag Strip barely noticed the shinning light reappearing in front of him. His attention was absorbed by the fist crashing painfully against his face, throwing him to the floor.

Making good use of the Seeker's distraction, Motormaster charged after him. This time though, Skywarp didn't avoid the attack. What good was a healthy dispute if it was solved in an astroclick with a laser beam? Decent hand to hand combat was knowing you had the advantage to end it violently and quickly. Exceptional combat was using your advantage into violently prolonging an opponent's demise slowly and painfully.

Motormaster held Skywarp by the shoulders, pinning his body against the wall. The Seeker gave no signal of pain, counterattacking by slamming his fist into the facial components of the Stunticon leader. Knowing he didn't posses the massive strength of his rival, Skywarp decided on another tactic: sharpness of words.

"Your anger only shows your fear, Motormaster!" he said, stifling the disastrous urge to scream in pain as he was slammed against the wall for a second time, his wings receiving the most damaging part of the punishment.

"Fear? What the fuck are you talking about, you stupid Seeker?!" Motormaster yelled angrily, using the human curse word that had become a staple to the Stunticon's vocabulary.

"You're a coward, that's what I'm talking about! I've never bought that brutality mask you wear so proudly! You're more afraid of failure than the Autobots! Don't deny it you useless beast! You and your team of junk piles would be unable to carry on this rescue mission and you know it!"

Motormaster lifted Skywarp and threw him against the energy generator. The Seeker avoided the collision and landed agilely on his feet.

"We Stunticons know no fear!" roared the big grey robot.

"Prove it!" Skywarp defied.

Drag Strip, who had witnessed the fight from the floor, abruptly stood up and pounced on Skywarp. However, a brusque gesture from his leader stopped him.

Suddenly, all fury was gone from Motormaster's expression, leaving in its place a cold, purposeful glance.

"You talk too much," he said. His hatred assumed a tranquility scarier than any rage explosion.

"I just said the truth", Skywarp replied, whose voice had lost any trace of mockery.

Motormaster folded his arms across his chest and remained thoughtful for a moment. Once again, a quarrel between Decepticons had finished as abruptly as it had started and, just as so many others that had happened before, there was no winner or loser. Sometimes the best way to deal with an uninterrupted war was to allow fists to punch freely among comrades.

"We'll help you," Motormaster finally announced.

Skywarp suppressed a satisfied boastful smile as Drag Strip stared at his leader with offended disbelief.

"What?! Are you insane, Moto?" he cried.

"My decision is made. Send an encrypted message to Breakdown, Dead End and Wildrider, summoning them... they must be near."

Drag Strip growled something unintelligible but obeyed the order.

Half managing to walk toward Motormaster without revealing the pain still burning on his wings, Skywarp sighed. The violent tension between both Decepticons had vanished.

"I suppose gratitude is unnecessary," the Seeker said.

"Your assumption is correct."

Skywarp turned around and headed toward the closed door at the end of the room.

"However…"

Motormaster's voice made him stop. He looked over his shoulder and saw the grey mechanoid smirking maliciously.

"I hope you're not thinking we're doing this for comradeship, are you Skywarp? Or, as you would say… for loyalty?

Skywarp dimmed his optics. He should've known better. There was no such thing as a complete victory.

"What do you want, Motormaster?" was the cold answer.

His smile huge, the Stunticon leader advanced toward Skywarp and hugged him by the shoulders.

"I wouldn't risk the lives of my Stunticons for nothing…" he rhetorically continued.

You slagging traitor! Skywarp had to make an effort at stopping from shaking that hypocrite arm off him.

"I said, what is that you want?" he repeated.

"I'm glad you asked. As you probably have noticed, my boys get… bored easily, and they tend to lose control."

Have they ever had control in the first place? Tell me something I don't know, you filthy piece of terrestrial junk! "So? You want me to tell them stories before their recharge cycles?"

Motormaster burst into heaps of laughter. "You really never do lose the ability to amuse me! But seriously, I was thinking about something different…"

Leaning in toward Skywarp, the Stunticon proceeded to whisper something in his audios. The Seeker's optics widened in shock as he violently shoved Motormaster backward.

"Punching bag!" he repeated, not even fully comprehending what he just heard.

"Was there a part of the phrase you didn't understand?" the gestalt leader asked with sugary innocence.

Punching bag... an Earth component to a very slow and soft activity when compared to the ferocious excitement the gladiator fights of ancient Cybertron produced. And while he didn't exactly command the Stunticon's annoying human culture knowledge, Skywarp knew exactly what a punching bag was. It was one of the few (if only) amusing aspects humans did, the contact sport known as boxing serving as an entertaining enough venue, considering. But like most other things, its amusing hold soon turned into boredom.

"But…" he hesitantly started saying.

"All you have to do is stay still as we hit you, no big deal," interrupted Motormaster.

"If you want to crush something so slagging bad, why don't you practice your little games on the Combaticons? Or better yet, why don't you just go kidnap some Autobot and shred him to pieces?"

Motormaster growled disdainfully. "The Combaticons have serious problems of controlling their impulsiveness toward using firepower and the Autobots always hang out in groups. Besides, nothing would be more satisfying than kicking the living energon out of a presumptuous Seeker shit like you."

If there was anything Skywarp was grateful for, it was Motormaster's sincerity. The Stunticon leader never disguised his opinion and was always painfully straight.

"How do I know being your punching bag won't cause me permanent deactivation?" Skywarp asked, clenching his fists.

"You can't know."

The Seeker folded his arms across his chest and began drumming his fingers on his forearm. "And just how much time would our… arrangement… last?"

Motormaster's optics dimmed evilly. "That depends on you. How much is the life of your friend worth?"

Low hit, even for a Stunticon… Skywarp wasn't able to hide his angered grimace. Definitely, Motormaster was more intelligent than what he seemed to be.

"We have a deal..." the Seeker finally gave up. However, his optics glared defiantely. If he was going to become the Stunticon's punching bag, then that was all the satisfaction they were going to have.

Drag Strip, having finished sending the gathering message to his teammates, stood with open delight at witnessing the conversation that had just unfolded.

"Can I start breaking his head, Moto? He still owns me one!" he yelled excitedly.

Skywarp raised his arm rifles at the yellow Tyrell's face. "First thing's first, Stunticon. You'll have your chance to beat me as much as you want... once Thundercracker is safe."

Drag Strip let out a heated huff.

Skywarp lowered his weapons. "Now... let's interrogate that Empty piece of junk. He has a lot of explaining to do," he continued, heading toward the door.

Motormaster and Drag Strip followed swiftly behind without another word.

To be continued.