A/N: Woo! Saturday :D here's another chapter! Thank you to everyone who's been keeping up with Nightbeat's story! You guys rock! X) Please Enjoy and Review!
To Vivienne Grainger: You know it's impossible not to poke fun at Skywarp, he's just a walking target XD glad I earned a chuckle (a big fat one, no less) outta ya ^_^ Thank you for all your kind reviews!
To SEZwho94: I'm glad you felt Starscream was really quite threatening during that scene, the part where he kisses Nightbeat on the forehead was actually inspired by a scene in the Godfather, where basically a character is giving another what I like to call an 'Italian kiss of death'. X) Thank you for all your awesome reviews!
Thank you to my other reviewers: MasterChiefAnderson, thepheonixqueen, and Crossblade's Switch!
Mirage speeds down the winding halls of the High Tower Pavilions Community Center, his uniquely designed air intakes enabling him to maintain a dead sprint the entire way. Glancing around to make sure he has no eyewitnesses, he transforms into his Ligier racer form and continues his way at speeds that leave heated tracks in his wake.
Things like this don't happen in the High Tower Pavilions. Sure, there's plenty of scandal, corrupted business ethics, affairs; enough to keep the posh locals satisfied at all the high-grade, swanky parties that serve as gossip centers. But kidnapping? Mirage had heard the rumors of the mighty politician of Kaon who had rented a temporary abode in the Towers for he and his sparkmate while they visited Iacon, and had heard how excited the high-born gossipers were to have someone from the 'dangerous' side of Cybertron coming to stay. He hadn't thought much of it, as hearsay was usually overblown by the time he heard of it.
He certainly knows better now. Kaon really is a dangerous place, its residents clearly responsible for the rep.
Mirage suddenly sees something thrown into his speeding path and transforms, attempting to avoid the obstacle. Big mistake. His bipedal form is sent tumbling pede-over-processor as his momentum continues onward until he meets resistance from a wall. Mirage's wild imagination is ignited with the possible explanations for what just happened: did the Kaon politician know that he was going for help? Did he send his Kaon gangsters after him?
Pushing himself up onto his knees, he is confronted quickly by the correct answer as he looks up.
"Where you off to in such a rush? Ain't you gonna even say hello?" A red youngling a little shorter than Mirage walks out from behind a corner from which the obstacle –a hollow metal bar –was thrown. He's joined by two taller sparklings, a pair of twins.
"I'm… I'm…" Mirage's vocal chords dry up as he tries responding with something brave, something to spook off his trio of bullies. They aren't of the High Tower Pavilions, not even close to being as high in the caste system as he. Cliffjumper, Sideswipe, and Sunstreaker are of the lower middle-caste; they tag along with their creators who act as the Towers' maintenance staff. They also detest rich kids like Mirage.
A common theme, it would seem. Mirage has never been fully accepted by his classmates who are of lower castes but still high enough to enter the heightened education system. This rejection in turn has made him… bitter. Bitter and shy, a combination that his creators can't seem to understand. What Mirage holds himself back from telling his creators, however, is that everyone of the High Tower Pavilions –including his creators –are just like him; bitter and shy. They hide behind their wealth and spit rumors about like venom.
It is these traits that lead Mirage to attract this kind of current attention –the painful kind that Cliffjumper and his friends offer. Speaking of which, Cliffjumper seems to be upset that Mirage is apparently ignoring him; this is made clear as the red demon-child sends a balled servo crashing into the blue and white youngling's midsection. The two twins laugh in unison as the little prince tumbles back onto his aftplate.
"You're, you're what? Come on, aren't you supposed to be smart or something? Can't you even finish a sentence?" Cliffjumper proudly accepts high-fives from his yellow and red buddies.
Sunstreaker, the yellow twin who would probably fit in just fine with the High Tower Pavilions crowd due to his sky-scraping ego, scrunches his faceplates in distaste as he observes the fine layer of dings and dirt covering Mirage's chassis, "What the frag happened to you? You look like you've been rolling around in a scrap heap."
The golden youngling's red twin, Sideswipe, branches off of his brother's insult, "Yeah, what, did someone else already pound you for the cycle?" He beams as his comment earns a round of chuckles from his company.
Cliffjumper steps in as he further incites the group's violent mentality, "Maybe, but it looks like they missed a spot—" he leans forward and roughly pokes a digit between Mirage's optics, " –right there. Why don't we take care of that?"
Mirage feels a burning sensation welling in his optics, and is horrified as he feels tears pooling around the edges of them. Blinking his optic shutters quickly, he knows it's already too late, the damage is done. His weakness has been made apparent.
Leaning forward and pursing his lip components in a mock-blubbering manner, Sideswipe earns more rewarding laughter as he teases, "Aww, is da widdle pwince gonna cwyyy?"
Wait. Mirage doesn't have time for this. Nightbeat's in trouble! Nightbeat, the kid from the poorest sector that he'd never even heard of. The kid who ignored Mirage's snobby outer shield and offered his servo to him. The kid who he's only known for a few cycles but already… already is his closest friend. These clowns, they don't matter. It's time Mirage let them know just that.
Taking advantage of Sideswipe's position of leaning his exposed face right in Mirage's, the blue and white sparkling balls his servo as tightly as he can –and sends it straight into the leering kid's faceplates! A short cry escapes the red youngling's vocalizer, one of shock and a little bit of pain. The other two bullies don't even realize what has just occurred until Mirage is transformed and speeding down the halls once more.
Helping his brother up, Sunstreaker's expression grows dark as he takes the reins of the group, "GET HIM!"
Ratchet eyes Nightbeat's 'new' leg –currently adorned with a layer of dirt and plenty of scratches –with a raised brow ridge, "Do you recall that 'no running or climbing' bit I mentioned?"
Nightbeat keeps his visored optics locked onto the distinctive red symbol on the mech's chestplate, struggling internally to bear the growing tension in the white room that has been labeled as 'his'. He's not alone with the medic. The Emirate occupies one section of the room, standing behind Ratchet and watching Nightbeat's every move. He knows this would be an opportune time for the youngling to send out an SOS.
Apparently having grown bored in the library, the patient and medic have also been joined by two Seekers, Starscream and his subordinate, Skywarp. The Air Commander, too, has his optics locked onto Nightbeat, a ghost of a smirk playing his features. He looks as though he's contemplating how he's going to cook Nightbeat for dinner. Skywarp, on the other servo, just looks dumb as he fidgets in the quiet room.
Letting out a soft sigh at the sparkling's silence, Ratchet continues the check-up as he gently removes the front cover plate of the white appendage. Observing the circuitry beneath with what looks like a stern expression, he turns his optics up towards the youngling with a smile, "Well, it looks like your body is accepting the leg with speedier results than I was expecting. Now let's test out the electrical network." He pokes a few of the wires with a fine-tipped instrument of some kind, spurring the leg to twitch with every prod.
"Emirate." Starscream breaks the silence of the room, "You've yet to tell me how your sparkling sustained his injury." He turns the corners of his mouth component upwards as his eyes narrow.
The Emirate stares at the Seeker with an unreadable expression before responding, "He was caught—"
"On second thought," Starscream interrupts, "why don't we let the little one tell?"
Ratchet is suddenly aware of the unseen pressure that seems to be rising in the room, and quickly traces the source to the Emirate and his supposed colleagues. He looks up from his work to see if the sparkling is planning on speaking.
Nightbeat slowly looks up and meets Ratchet's optics. For a splitting moment, Ratchet sees a desperate, fearful cry pass through the youngling's partially obscured optics. The little one speaks up, "I can't remember. I only remember being found by… my…" A wave of heat rushes through Nightbeat's processor that brings a chill to the back of his neck cables.
Finishing for him, Emirate Xeon continues, "Silhouette found him in a channel… he had fallen in and had gotten his leg caught in a grate." The Emirate makes the mistake of not looking at Starscream as he speaks. A clear sign of his dishonesty.
Fully catching the signs of a lie, Starscream lets it slip, for now. "By the great Primus, how awful that must have been for you and your mate, Emirate. And for your child, of course." Starscream speaks softly with a melodramatic tone, the ethereal smile never leaving his lip components.
Ratchet has a way of sensing when a patient is in danger, whether it is from a virus that tests failed to catch eating away at one's internals or, like in this case, an oncoming threat from the external. Something is going on here, and the fact that a sparkling is involved –and seems to be the center of whatever this is –makes Ratchet's teeth grit. Thinking quickly, Ratchet stands and turns to the Emirate, breaking the stand-off that was taking place between him and the Seeker. "Emirate Xeon, I'm going to need to take, er, Wilder in for some more in-depth assessments. Preferably now."
Seemingly at the mention of the sparkling's name, Starscream's optics brightly flicker for a moment. "Wilder…" His grin becomes more apparent and grows further still as though he's just had an epiphany.
Suddenly looking unnerved, the Emirate's optics fluster from Starscream to the medic, "I thought –You said his leg was doing fine –"
"I said his body is readily accepting the new circuitry, yes, but I need to make sure the rapid acceleration of the new connections isn't a symptom of a complication, such as a virus. It would be in your own and your child's best interest to have a few tests run at the hospital. I don't mean to alarm you, but time is of the essence in situations like this. It's better to be safe than sorry, surely you understand." Ratchet turns to begin putting his medical tools back into their compartments in his medical kit, trying to appear calm as he internally writhes at having his back to the suddenly threatening bots.
Emirate Xeon is at a loss of words for a moment, knowing that there is no way he can take the child to a public domain, knowing that his sparkmate would lose her only lingering grip on reality if the one thing keeping her in her blissful delusion were to be taken away. "My apologies, Ratchet, but I cannot allow that. Is there no way to conduct the tests here?"
Enjoying the Emirate's squirming and sensing that there's a terrible secret floating around the sparkling's true identity, Starscream intervenes, "He said time is of the essence, Emirate. Why do you not speed your child to the hospital? Aren't you concerned?"
Getting the feeling that things are spiraling downwards in this situation, Ratchet quickly interjects, "Let me rephrase, Emirate: I need to take your sparkling now. His welfare is in danger and it is my right and responsibility to take custody of him and bring him to a facility where I can better help him." Turning towards the sparkling once more, Ratchet lifts him up in his arms and turns back to the Emirate, "It would be preferable if you come with me, or at least your sparkmate."
"You're not taking him anywhere, Medical Chief Ratchet. Give me my child." The room comes to a standstill as all the mechs present turn to see Silhouette standing in the doorway, her usual smile nowhere to be seen.
Before he can respond, the femme confronts the medic and takes the sparkling away from him, cradling him like a newly-sparked. "We appreciate your services. As my sparkmate said, Kaon will remember the kindness received from Iacon's Medical Department. As for the immediate attention you recommend for Wilder, you needn't worry. I plan to take him to the hospital –as soon as we arrive home, in Kaon. In fact, we'll be leaving within the cycle. Again, thank you, Medical Chief Ratchet." Her tone is unreadable as her expression retains neutrality.
Ratchet looks a little dumbfounded at just how quickly the tables have turned, but quickly adopts a friendly smile, "Of course, Lady Silhouette. It's a pleasure to serve. Do come and visit Iacon again sometime. As for you, little one…" He doesn't feel right using the name 'Wilder', it just doesn't seem to fit the sparkling, "…Take care, and be more mindful of that leg of yours."
Nightbeat can feel his internals twisting painfully with anxiety. No, he can't let Ratchet leave, he's the last hope he has. Something must have caught Mirage, else security would surely be here already. The odds are against both he and the medic, however. Two Seekers, a corrupt politician, and a crazy femme? A sparkling and medic don't seem to have a good chance with details like these.
He can't go to Kaon. If he does, Nightbeat will surely be lost forever, never to see his mother again, never to see Sector Capri again. The medic is gathering his things, heading towards the front door-
"NO!" Ratchet is brought to an immediate halt as he hears the sparkling's scream. Nightbeat struggles in the femme's hold, desperate to flee, "Don't let them take me! I can't go to Kaon! Please help me!"
"Wilder, what –what has gotten into you? Sweetie, stop it!" Silhouette's visage is one of utter confusion as she strains to regain control of her child.
Before Ratchet can even react, the Emirate is forcefully pulling him towards the entrance to the living quarters by the arm. With his suspicions confirmed by the sparkling's outburst, he protests the rough treatment by tearing his arm away and jabbing a digit towards the Kaonian politician, "Now, just wait a klik! Just what is going–"
The Emirate interrupts, "You'll have to excuse my son's behavior, he has a way of telling wild stories to get attention. It would be best if you leave now. Your staying will only worsen the situation."
Ratchet shoots a mean look at the Emirate, "Now if you think I'm going to believe that, you've got a pit of another thing coming! I think there's something wrong going on here, and if you think you're going anywhere with that child—"
Leaning on one hip rather casually, Starscream tips his head towards his subordinate, "Skywarp, why don't you help the Emirate out and escort his guest off the premises. He's causing quite a fuss, and we certainly don't want that for our gracious contributor."
Taking the cue, Skywarp disappears from his place at his commander's side and reappears directly behind the arguing medic, "You're becoming a bother to the boss, doc. Hows 'bout some fresh air t'clear yer processor?" And with that, the Seeker thug grabs Ratchet and the two depart in a brilliant flash of purple light and vapor.
For a moment, everything is still. The Emirate of Kaon stands facing an empty place where a Medical Chief once was, gathering himself as well as his thoughts. A femme sits on her knees with a look of pained confusion as she hesitantly reaches towards a sparkling who has escaped her grasp and now sits with his chassis pressed into the corner of the room; the little one is curled in on himself as though he's just learned he has a one-way ticket to oblivion. The Air Commander watches the layout from a comfortable position, taking it in like fresh high-grade and savoring the bitter sweetness.
Then, the silence is broken all too soon by Emirate Xeon's sudden rush towards the cornered sparkling. "Get up, Silhouette." He takes the femme by the shoulders and lifts her to her pedes, quickly escorting her to the door of the room.
"Xeon, wait, what are you going to do? Wait, Xeon! Don't!" The femme's tone raises in pitch and her intakes become shallow as her hysteria rises. She is abruptly lead out of the room as the door shuts behind her. She begins pounding her fists against the blockade separating her from her child, "Xeon! Slaggit, what are you going to do? Don't you lay a single digit on him you fragging son of a glitch! So help me Primus I will kill you!"
Emirate Xeon does his best to block out the weighty threats from his sparkmate, turning to face Nightbeat, who is now standing on his pedes, still pushed into the corner of the room but ready to make a dash for it. Starscream silently observes, curious to find out more of just what is going on.
"What you just did… was very… very… bad." The brooding mech fights to maintain steady intakes as he approaches Nightbeat. Not wishing for Starscream to discover the truth, he withholds himself from further confronting the sparkling for now, "Starscream, I apologize for my son's behavior. I assure you he will not be let off easily for this misconduct." Not once do his optics leave Nightbeat as he speaks, "Please tell Megatron that I am pleased with his progress thus far; and also let him know that Silhouette and I will be returning to Kaon. Perhaps we will arrange for a meeting there."
Understanding that the Emirate is politely telling him to be on his way, Starscream internally pouts at not discovering more about this mystery sparkling, but responds, "Children will be children, Emirate Xeon. Their actions may not always make sense to us, but sometimes… they may tell us more than we ought to know." Not feeling like confronting the frantic femme on the other side of the door, Starscream instead opens one of the tall windows and easily steps through onto a ledge. He looks back, "I will let Megatron know all that he needs to, and a meeting will surely be in order. Good luck with your sparkling, Emirate, and your sparkmate." Dropping off the side and transforming, the Air Commander is briefly joined by a purple and black jet that opens a portal for the two to disappear through.
Nightbeat stands with his back pressed into the corner, wishing that he could just push straight through the wall and be anywhere but here. The Emirate stands his ground, unflinching as his optics remain locked onto him. The femme's screams on the other side of the door are washed out by the wind coming from the open window, striking against Nightbeat's audio receptor like crashing waves from the sea.