Chapter 11: "The Off Weekend"

Disclaimer: Hasbro and Takara-Tomy own The Transformers, m'kay? I just hijack them for fun.

Warnings: Sideswipe is too friendly.


A week brought many changes, most notably Kyya being allowed outside where she discovered that the ship was cloaked as a very orange rock and that her new size presented many problems. Going anywhere but the woods was out of the question when your alt is a nine-foot-tall metal wolf. There weren't many of those roaming around town. Slowly, though, everything in her frame seemed to coalesce even if she didn't quite understand it yet. Her processor still insisted she was human and drinking flammables was a bad practice, but hunting?

Hunting came with a ferocity that frightened her.

Nonetheless, Kyya crept through the low brush in what was gradually becoming her favorite activity. From this angle he wouldn't see her coming. She crouched and rushed the shadowy figure in front of her just as it twisted to meet her with a resounding smack.

That was another thing…just because coding said 'do it' didn't mean it was always correct.

She yelped and skidded a few yards on her chest. "Slaggit, Prowl!" The Praxian swung his makeshift staff around, it landing squarely on her snout, "Where'd you learn that word?"

"Where do you think?"

He sighed with a longsuffering air, "Never mind, that is a bad word, don't say it." He maneuvered the branch to lift her chin up, "Come on, try again." She snarled. The Praxian wasn't gentle at all with his life lessons. Those deceptively small dents in her frame ached like human bruises. "Just so you can hit me with that staff-o-pain again?"

Kyya forced herself to jump upward when it came sweeping under her paws.

Prowl was firm, "You're never going to learn by not practicing. You want to test your new frame? First lesson: stealth."

"It's been four hours…." Jazz groaned across the large clearing chosen for today, "Tell her."

"Shut up."

"He's a ninja. He's got a bazillon years of training on your forth of a vorn!" Sideswipe yelled. The Preda sulked, "And you knew." He tipped his helm, "Had you been paying attention you would have noticed by now and adapted accordingly."

Kyya snatched the staff in her jaws and ran.

"Get back here!"

It was bad enough getting creamed in a fight without an audience and she wasn't all that fond of these types of lessons. Or Prowl for that matter. The mech reminded her too much of Topples even down to his narrow visor. Add in that conceited attitude and he and the old tabby probably would have been best friends.

She heard a crash as her pursuer underestimated the height of a low hanging branch. The thing about Cybertronians was, despite being an adaptive race, they had a learning curve when on a new planet. As noted by the scare they had earlier that week when Ratchet had discovered a "living rock". It had been a turtle and he'd been terrified of it. Kyya really didn't want to know what had spawned that fear. On top of that, their bulky vehicle parts made them not very good at maneuvering through the woods in either form.

It was still a work in progress but with some planning she could dodge through the wider spaced trees. With that knowledge, she jammed the staff between two pines and burst forward, relishing the sound of a frame hitting the ground.

Kyya slid into a hollow, lying deathly still. Prowl's peds stomped by and she smirked when he didn't see her.

"Paw prints," he finally deadpanned, "I can see where they lead."

She moaned, "I'm not getting this anytime soon, right?"

"No but it was a good idea."

The femme transformed and crept out, "Did you even really fall?"

Now the ninja looked put out, "Yes, I thought you were going to get caught in the trees."

"Been there, done that, got a concussion."

Prowl shook his helm, "So, have you settled on a name?"

Her tail cut the air aimlessly, "Can we go back to the Ark? Rilo never made me practice when cartoons are on."

"Pay. Attention." he enunciated, "Yes or No?"

"Yeah…Don't laugh: Turret."

The Praxian stopped in his tracks.

"What?"

"You're not even trying."

"Am so!"

"Really? It has nothing to do with any of your attributes."

Sideswipe cackled, "I knew this guy named Turrettone…he had this bad habit of—"

"I don't want to hear that story again, and your name is not that."

"Prick." Kyya muttered.

"What was that?"

"Term of respect."

Prowl didn't look as if he believed her but a rumble from the darkening sky had the Cybertronians tensing.

Now the frontliner wasn't too lighthearted, "The frag was that?"

Kyya looked up at the skies expectantly, "Will you babies calm down, its thunder. Forecast calls for rain." They shared a look and began moving out.

"Wait! What's wrong?"

"Rains bad." Bumblebee called back.

"How are you afraid of rain?! It's just water."

Sideswipe snorted, "You weren't on Cybertron, we had acid rain. The kind that melts frames in forty kliks."

She stopped outside the cave the others crowed in, "It never gets that potent here, I'll show you."

"Only the dumb stand in the rain." Prowl deadpanned.

"Whatever." She ruffled her plating and let the moisture rinse her off. Whatever that stuff was they had in their showers was weird. It smelled like chemicals and felt like hand sanitizer. At least rain was water. Bumblebee followed her lead, flinching at the incessant pokes on his wings, "You know this actually isn't so bad…"

Kyya nodded, "See? It's an outdoor shower."

One wing went into a soft spasm, "It feels tingly."

Her energon ran cold, "Tingly?"

Prowl's visor flickered in the growing dark, "Yes, there's a notable build-up of electricity—"

"Go, go, go!" she shoved Bee back into the cave, "Crap, everybody get down!"

"What's your prob—"

"Do it!"

A blinding light descended from the heavens and ripped down the trunk of a pine tree, sending splinters of wood everywhere, followed by a deafening clap of thunder and pouring rain.

Jazz pushed Bumblebee off his chassis, "Like he said, rain's real bad."

"It's a summer storm, they're always kinda crazy."

Bumblebee jockeyed for space and inadvertently swung a wing out. In turn, that sent Kyya into Sideswipe's grasp.

"Well look who's back for seconds!"

She glared up at him, "You smell like burnt plastic. Let go." The frontliner used one arm to lift the Preda up closer and he leered delicately, "What's the hurry, you can sit in my lap if you want."

There was dead, uncomfortable silence as Kyya turned around and then looked back at the rest of the group, "I'm going back to the Ark. Have fun, perverts."

"Ay don't group meh with him. I didn't say nothin'!"

She squirmed, claws gouging his plating, "'Sides, I swear if you don't put me down..."

"I was kidding!" he lied, still not letting the panicky femme alone, "Seriously, can't take a joke?"

"Quit picking me up, it's not funny!" Kyya hauled off and bit him, primary fangs slicing straight through the seams of his wrist armor and into his protoform.

"What the—OWWW!" he slammed his helm on the ceiling in his rush to put distance between them.

Prowl smirked, "She did give you ample warning."

Kyya moved closer to the entrance and Sides stuffed his wrist into his mouth, "Slag, that hurt!"

She spat, "Serves you right…and you taste horrible!"

He kept flexing his wrist as if it were on fire and muttered static. The red mech suddenly staggered, grabbing onto the cave wall for balance and dropped.

Jazz was already by his side, rolling the mech over with an intense gaze, "Yo, 'Sides? Sides? Annnnd he's out."

Strange pin-prick like holes dotted his chest and luminescent ooze trailed from the bite marks on his wrist. The saboteur's optics cut over to the Predacon standing there with the same green solution ebbing from the corner of her mouth.

"Ky…yah got a little something there."

She wiped it away and looked between the fluid and the unconscious frontliner.

"Ick, what—" she looked between her servo and Sideswipe again with growing dread, "I—killed him?"

"He aint dead, just drugged out of his processor."

"What else is new?" Prowl snorted, catching the femme by her arm, "Stand still, let me get a sample."

Kyya's stress levels hiked and her plating bristled: this time, spines rose from a thick strip running from her spinal strut to her tail tip. The ninja didn't seem phased as he just swiped a sample from her jaw, "That's different. You have dorsal projections."

Jazz fished a short sliver of metal dripping with green out of Sideswipe's plating, "Mor like dorsal projectiles."

"That came off my frame?"

"Yup, pretty shallow though, it didn't hit nothing vital, just kinda nicked the protoform." Kyya pulled her armor flush against her frame and huddled to herself, "So I can set these off at anytime?"

"When threatened. I suppose."

"So you're part porcupine and part snake?" Bumblebee chimed in, "Wolf-rattle-pine."

"And you're part school bus," she sniped back, missing his rude facial expression when she turned back to the frontliner, "Is he going to be all right?"

"Vitals aint changing, his systems are trying to fight the venom off. He should be up in the hour."

She sat next to the downed mech, "I'm sorry…"

"That's a pretty cool trick. Jus use it on the baddies." His grin turned to Prowl, "Dibs."

"Jazz no. You trained Bumblebee."

"Aw come on!"

"What are they arguing about?"

The scout flopped down on the other side of Sideswipe, "Who you're gonna train under."

"Train for what?"

"If you haven't noticed there's danger all over, somebody needs to teach you how to defend yourself. They've both got training in martial arts but Prowls more toward the ninja side and Jazz is—more interesting."

"What does that mean?"

"He's an assassin; he can kill you ten different ways with a piece of scrap. Prowl's just going to throw it at something vital and shoot you if he can't catch you from behind. Jazz is more fun though." Grey streaked audios hung at limp at the sides of her helm as she looked her yellow companion over. Bumblebee had that curious ability to put a cheerful spin on anything… Kyya didn't know what was worse: how blasé he was about murder or the fact that this was normal.

"He's not an assassin. He's too nice."

"Sure he is."

"No he's not."

"Sure I am."

Kyya stiffened at the voice in her audio, "Gah! Don't do that! You kill people for a living?"

Jazz straightened and rocked back on his peds, looking almost puzzled, "It's a war, femme. Yeah." He flashed a disarming smile, "Just 'meber somebody's attitude doesn't tell everything."

She bobbed understanding. If that was the case then the same rule of life applied with these guys: trust no one. That wasn't going to be hard at all. There was just one question left. "If you trained Bee how come he's so clumsy?"

"Eh. Younglinghood."

"He also can't stay quiet for longer than a cycle, Jazz tried his best."

"I am literally standing right here." Bumblebee ground out. Just then the comm.s lit with a message from Sunstreaker, ::Guys, what's up with Sides? He blacked out. :: For about a klik there were copious amounts of optic shifts and visor glints until Bumblebee answered, :: Ummm, we had a little accident. ::

~o~o~o~o~o~

Back at the Ark Sunstreaker slammed a servo on the control room console and growled, "Idiot."

His temporary human charge looked up, "What happened?"

"Your cousin bit Sideswipe."

Somehow Bud wasn't surprised. "Oh."

Sunstreaker proceeded to grumble in some unintelligible dialect while he pretended to watch the monitors. The teen gathered Sunstreaker had patience the width of a fiber optic strand but just maybe he could press it a tad further.

"So where are you from?"

"Cybertron, we've been over this."

"What city?"

"There are no cities in The Ferin Depths."

"And that is?"

"Dark, abandoned, urban wilderness."

"Yeesh, your parents raised you there?"

Sunstreaker leaned into his small, fleshy face, "We were raised by turbofoxes."

"You're serious?"

"I don't joke."

"So did you ever run into any cyberwolves?"

"Not the non-sentient kind."

Silence lasped.

"Sunstreaker, how did your war start?"

Now the mech looked annoyed, "Where'd that come from?"

"Marci said you guys were soldiers. You're not at a base…so?"

"Eons of anger and mistreatment finally met some 'formers who had the moxie to do something about it."

Bud got picked up by the collar of his shirt and deposited on the floor like an errant kitten.

"Go see what Optimus is doing."

~o~o~o~o~o~

In town, Marci stepped out of a mini-mart's sliding doors, looking for Ironhide. Living with the 'Bots was interesting to say the least but she valued her independence. She could pick up her own supplies.

"Hey, Merc!"

She went rigid. Only a couple of people knew her old nickname. "Owen, what are you doing here?"

He flipped his drenched coat hood backwards with a smirk, bright florescent lights catching the murky slicker. "There's a signal here, duh. Where've you been, nobody's seen you in weeks!"

The black Topckick's headlights brightened slightly and the brunette twitched her fingers in a 'back off' motion, "I'm beat, some stuff came up, so I took a vacation."

"You picked a fine time to go on leave, missed all the fun. You won't believe what we found behind your house. Its like those things had a battle royal back there. I don't care what the meter says, I get a bad vibe all over this town—there's more than one around here. Can't you feel it?"

She swallowed her unease. Michaels had always had a stronger sense that most. He'd barely escaped being among the ranks of those that never woke up. Ratchet surmised the weak systems in their bodies were so basic they could easily notice Cybertronians, since the devices were made to block more sophisticated scans. That was good news for USCIV, not so much for everyone back at the Ark.

"Yeah…Kyya thinks she heard something, it spooked her pretty bad. We're holed up across town for now."

Owen groaned.

"Shut up, she needs me. You'd know if you'd ever taken care of anything in your life."

He performed his famous eye roll, "I can name one right here...Besides, don't kids kinda take care of themselves after 15?"

"No." she snipped, hurriedly breezing down the covered walkway, "And as much as I'd like to go tearing through the woods with you I can't right now."

"If she's scared, leave her with the nerd. Stays over there enough…"

"Its not that."

"And what is the problem? Boy trouble?"

"You could say that…"

"Look you gave it your best, Merc," Michaels sighed, steering her to the wall, "Just stop and face it, you're not mom material—"

An EMP flare washed over Michaels that had him backpedaling. "Shut your mouth RIGHT NOW. My name is not Merc anymore. And we have made it this far with everyone and their brother breathing down our necks about this 'you can't be a single parent' crap, so don't you start. I'm not in a good mood at all right now." She drew back, thankful the outdoor cover was empty save for them. "I'm sorry."

He stuttered, "Is something wrong?"

She adjusted her bags and gave him an apologetic grimace, "I'll see you when I see you."

Marci sloshed out into the rain and swung herself up into the huge Topkick, welcoming a dry interior. "What happened to Ratch?"

The radio flashed in tandem with his rough voice, "A car hydroplaned and he felt obliged to help. Don't think anyone was hurt though."

"Crazy weather we're having."

Ironhide grunted. "It's the norm for liquids to fall from your atmosphere?"

"Yup, did it rain on Cybertron?"

"Very rarely. It used to be a beautiful thing now it's something to fear."

She nodded, "When there's a hard rain like this there're flash floods in low areas. Hate 'em."

They both watched Michaels sprint through the rain to his vehicle before pulling off. "So, who's he?"

"A work friend. He's the only other Zone 2 I know of, most try to keep a low key. He's kind of pushy but you won't find a better soldier."

He hummed, "Eric and Kyya don't seem to think highly of him."

Marci let out a too warm sigh, "It's been going on for years…they hate each other. You know those two put a live rattlesnake in his car? I don't even want to know how they managed that."

Ironhide had seen these so called 'rattling snakes'; they reminded him of Decepticons.

"Is Eric her father figure?"

"No. He's more of a friend—a really good one. He's always been there for us, but I can't say she's picked up the best habits from him."

"So what you're saying is she has none."

"No, I don't really think bringing in a guy would be the best idea. We can barely handle us. Haven't had a date since college." She grinned down at the steering wheel, "Why are you so curious, you want to volunteer?"

"Don't even joke. I am attempting to make conversation, femme."

Marci stared up at the roof of his cab, "Bumbles told me your Prowl's like your kid, right? How long have you been in the service?"

"For life, I was in warrior-caste."

"Was it hard raising him?"

Ironhide snorted, "Yes. Your little episode in Optimus' trailer summed our relationship up: yelling all the time. He's from the enforcer-caste and was grown when I got a hold of him. Didn't help Prowler's had differences with warrior-caste to begin with, we worked it out but he's still an aft." His engines rumbled, "You ever think about retiring from active duty?"

"All the time, but it's not my choice to make. They've got me barred in…maybe I could get out now but, Ironhide, you don't understand: if I stop—I'll break. I can't go back to the way things were. Besides, there more of those things out there. Gotta do my part."

He refrained from asking if it was a matter of not being able or not wanting to. "Fine, but it's not healthy to run from these things."

Marci shrugged, "Its worked for this long."

"That's what 'Mia used to say."

"And who's she?"

"My sparkmate. You remind me a lot of her."

She made a disgusted noise, "Don't say things like that when you're giving me a ride. Oh, and you broke rule number one; you got attached." This mushy stuff wasn't really his thing but he obliged, "You know, sometimes it is worth it. It's not for everyone but gives you something to fight for."

"Whatever you say. I've already got mine."

They found Ratchet backed up underneath an overpass, out of the flow of traffic with no other vehicle to be seen. Apparently, the only things they'd received were a minor arm sprain and damp trousers. They would live.

~o~o~o~o~o~

By the time the trio had made it back to med bay, a small crowd was gathered including a concerned Sunstreaker and a dizzy Sideswipe.

"Sup Ratch." The red mech slurred. Ratchet frowned, the frontliner could barely keep his optics open, "What happened here?"

"Ky bit Sides for groping her." Jazz called despite said femme's protests.

"Surprise. I'm venomous." Kyya deadpanned.

Ironhide looked mortified, "That's—your first thought? You don't know where he's been!"

She shrugged, "He wouldn't stop picking me up. It just—happened."

"What did I tell you about biting people? Nothing good comes of it." Marci scolded, adding a muttered, "I should know," under her breath.

"Oh yeah?" Ironhide egged.

"It's a long story…I am not allowed in the state of California."

Bud started laughing and a blue heat spread on Kyya's faceplates. "It was once and if she wanted her finger she shouldn't have put it in my face." She called back.

Sideswipe swayed dangerously and his brother had to force him down with a sneer, "Oh so there's another wolf bite victim out there? Better get the virus tests ready."

"Shut it, Sunny," Ratchet bit before turning to the Preda, "You. Sit down."

Kyya tucked her knees up to her chest and watched him examine Sideswipe.

"So what happened?"

"'Sides wouldn't let go, she bit 'em, an these spines came from her back. I got 'em all out but they're full o this green stuff. He's just now coming around."

The medic took a sample of his energon and frowned after a moment, "The good news is its diluting on its own. He's put worse into his systems."

By now Kyya had stuck her helm between her knees, hiding her faceplates. Ratchet put a servo on one ped, "Can you show me what you did?"

Green armor hiked to attention along her spinal strut and tail with a sharp snickt noise. From a distance, the strip looked like a fragmented plate. Up close there were dozens of hypodermic filaments, lit with green along with hundreds on her tail.

"I can feel you staring. Stop."

"Don't mind them, they're leaving." Ratchet said with a not too subtle warning, "Hold still." He prodded her back with a set of tweezers, carefully extracting a thin spine that oozed with neurotoxin. He set about running tests on the tox inside. "And you said this was in your mouth too?"

"Yeah."

"And a scorpion stung you at a young age… I think you might have repurposed its venom." When she looked confused, he explained further, "Taking the toxin directly into your system, building a tolerance, and essentially hijacking it for new purposes."

Kyya looked stunned and sickened, "Can you fix it?"

"Nothing needs to be fixed, you're fine. What we need is an antidote. It's has organic residue so it can cause complete system shut down in 'formers. Until then, do not bite your friends. Sideswipe, touch her again and it just might kill you."

"Okay."

"No problem there."

"Good, now every not hurt clear out."

Kyya leaned on the red mech's berth, "Sorry about the whole passing out thing."

A huge servo mussed her ears, "It's fine…had worse…"

Kyya got an eerie feeling and caught Sunstreaker glaring, "What?"

He didn't bother acknowledging her, instead turning back to Sides, "Stay away from her."

She slunk around the pair, "Sorry…"

In the recovery room she and Marci had been moved to, Kyya crawled up onto her berth.

Stupid Rilo.

Stupid Sideswipe.

Stupid frame.

Stupid self.

She eyed her tail, swinging limp over the edge and snatched it up. It was easy enough to ruffle the spines again and she violently yanked a patch of the silvers out, leaving ashen base metal. Her relief was short lived as she spotted the points of more preparing to emerge.

Kyya tapped her claws in frustration and stared on another section.

Before she could Ratchet knocked. "Can I come in?"

She rushed to hide the spines, "Yeah."

"How have you been? Any other problems?"

"Fine."

He looked at the tiny needles coating the berth, "Were you pulling your spines out?"

"I want them off." She said quietly, trying to ignore the stinging.

"Well, now you're bleeding. You have to be careful, that's part of your frame. I won't be able to see what I can do without a checkup. Are you ready for scans?" She groaned, spreading her arms out, "I hate this…"

"You'll live."

Fifteen minutes into the exam Kyya squeaked, "How—common are Predacons on your planet? None of you guys are. You're all umm…"

"Vehicle-modes." Ratchet paused, "And they weren't many on Cybertron in its later vorns."

"So even with giant robots I'm still weird?"

"Compared to us…yes, but being a Predacon isn't so much an alternative lifestyle as it is a different culture. One, I will admit, I'm not very familiar with. Does it bother you?"

"Yes." She snorted, "You'd think I'd be used to it by now… I always stick out wherever I go, why should it be any different this time? At least I won't be able to understand most of the name calling this go around." Bitter optimism seethed from her tone and he touched a servo to her shoulder, "That's not a bad thing."

"That's coming from someone on the inside looking out."

He caught her optics, "So you want to look like a vehicle-mode?"

Kyya shrugged, "If it'll help me fit in."

The medic seemed to mull it over and pulled an unassuming grey chip from subspace, "I had a feeling this was coming."

"What's that?"

"This chip can reconfigure your alt and its attachments for a short period. If I were to install this, it would be at the base of your neck cabling but—"

"You said 'but'. There's always a catch…"

"Depending on a 'former's system sometimes it won't take. There's a limit to how much our frames can adapt to at any given time. It may be too soon for any add ons."

She blinked back coolant and dug her claws into the table beside her, "Of course." Ratchet squeezed her shoulder softly, "Like I was saying, being a different frame type isn't a bad thing. You actually have a lot in common with Bumblebee."

"And I embarrassed him about the way he looked…"

"I highly doubt that. He did the puppy optics didn't he?"

"Yeah…"

"One thing you have to understand about hybridization in Transformers is it's not as simple as bigotry. It's not even that Bumblebee looks different. It's a matter of survival for the next generation. The two lines of coding, depending on the Transformers involved, might not be compatible and the result could cause glitching along with a host of other problems. Its exceedingly rare but that's why hybrids are looked down on. Bumblebee doesn't seem to have any issues besides boundless energy but that's typical of fliers. Him acting embarrassed might have been genuine at first but he was gauging you."

"For what?!"

"In times like these it doesn't do to rush into things. He wants to be your friend. Congratulations."

"Yeah, well I don't have many of those. Even more reason to get this 'poison bite' thing taken care of." She started picking at her tail again before Ratchet caught the offending claws, "Let's make a deal. You don't mutilate yourself and we'll see about the chip."

Somewhere in the back of her vocalizer Kyya made a soft growl, "Fine."

"It isn't all bad. I'll tell you a secret. If you find your niche, your own set of skills, no one will be able to catch you. I mean that metaphorically and literally. You'll be just as elusive as your little stalker friend in the woods."

He caught a glint of hope in her optics, "Are you sure?"

Ratchet nodded, "I have had one too many close calls with Predas in my old clinic."

"I thought you said they weren't common?"

"Openly Preda ones, no, but ones in hiding? Oh yes. They always have a way of finding me. I patched up one Saurian mech and had a whole horde of them tailing me."

Kyya snickered.

"But if you want to get better, you're going to have to have a mentor. So you'll need to listen to Prowl, okay?"

She pulled a massive tree limb from her back subspace, "Yeah, we'll have great conversations."

He gaped at the branch that was taller than her, "How did you fit that in there?"

"Very carefully." Kyya dusted the feathery leaves off the limb, "I love these! There aren't too many here but they smell nice and the fronds kinda look like my tail."

"What kind of tree is it?"

Kyya ran an internet search, "Uh, Taxodium distichum. The common name is—" She bounced on the berth with bright optics.

"What's got you so excited?"

"I found my name!"

~o~o~o~o~o~

Outside in the short hallway connecting the back rooms to the main med bay, Ironhide and Marci sat eavesdropping and mulling over a torn napkin stained with red scrawl. "So you found that in your supply container? What's it say?"

"One last roundup…"

"So Michaels is just a work friend, huh?" Ironhide jibbed.

"He means a takedown…" She studied the brief directions on the back, "They think they've found a target."

"You aren't seriously thinking of going?"

"They're calling me in. It's my job, it would be red flags if I didn't. I'm going. Besides I could give you all a heads up."

"Should one of us come with?"

"'Hide, Owen just barely missed sniffing you out. They trust Zone 2's to give them an alert. The whole team would rip you to shreds. I got it."

She heard Ratchet attempting to get her daughter to sit still for another invasive check and sighed. "You know, Ratch gave me that crash course but I'm still not too savvy on all there is to know about you guys…" Marci looked conflicted, "How do you feel about keeping an optic on—?"

"Nope. Pass."

"Well you sounded so eager."

"Nah—your kid is weirder than my kid and that's saying something. Now Ratchet here could handle her. He's practically an honorary Predacon. He gets them."

Ratchet stalled as he walked outside the recovery room, "Wha—I"

"Well?"

He feigned indifference, "I thought I was already doing that."

"So that's a yes?"

Ratchet mumbled.

"Thank you."

He jerked a thumb at Ironhide, "Well I can very well turn her over to him—or them." She heard a rising hiss in their native tongue from Bumblebee as he dove at the white and black mech teasing him. They quickly rammed into a shelf in their horseplay.

"Point taken."

The medic snarled, pulling a wrench from thin air, "Didn't I tell you all to get out of here?!"

Kyya leaned in the doorframe after Ratchet left. Sometimes she wished her hearing was back to human standards. "So, you're leaving again?"

"Yeah, early tomorrow…"

Her audios drooped.

"I promise I won't be gone too long; besides we've got tonight."

Kyya smiled sullenly before she remembered her news, "Okay—hey! I've got a name!"

"Please tell me it's better than Misfire." Ironhide groaned, "You're asking to be the butt of jokes."

~o~o~o~o~o~

Wanting to prove she could pick her own name Kyya crept into a hall she'd never been down before looking for Prowl. She took a long draft of air through her olfactory and turned left. That was another thing now. Everything smelled with an intensity she had never experienced. Energon, people, outdoors, this ship, everything had a scent. She could track someone based on the trail they'd left behind. Not that that she was going to spread that little tidbit of information around. This form was scary enough without having more disturbing wolf attributes.

She padded to Prowl's door in wolf-mode, dropped tree branch, and scratched.

He slid the door open, "Yes?"

"I found my name. I'm Cypress."

The ninja looked skeptical.

"Well if I wanna be called Cypress there's nothing you can do about it! I actually like it and I like this tree."

"It's good."

"What?"

"Your designation. It has no exact conversion but its acceptable. Next time don't damage flora in your haste to get samples." His visor flickered, "Oh…and that's Mr. Prick to you."

The Preda smirked ferally, "Took you long enough to Google it, Sensei Prick."

"The more you talk, the more practice routines I invent."

"I'd listen if I were you, Cyp-rash." Sunstreaker yelled from the other end of the hall, dragging his tipsy brother to their quarters.

"It's Cypress!"

Prowl snorted, "A nickname in two kilks, has to be a new record."


Yay, it's the last chapter before all pit breaks loose! What comes after this may be upsetting, don't say I didn't warn you.

"Savor the daylight. Things are about to get rather dark."—Steeljaw

Yes, Steeljaw is another wolf 'former...sort of. No, he's not set to appear in these stories, but that's not to say there won't be other cannon beast/wolf 'formers later. :) Besides, the quote is too epic not to mention.

On a side tangent, Cypress is based off an old childhood idea. The way I figure, spines/fangs full of venom are off-putting to any species and if you don't have size, you've got toxicity and teeth. I promise it'll make sense in the end.

Thanks for Reading!